#and you'll see why in the next drabble
Text
Bully! Sukuna
Bully! Sukuna who unhealthily obsesses over you. He loves your cute little face, loves it when you stammer and stutter over, loves how adorable you look when you study, glasses resting on bridge of your nose as you focus on taking down your notes.
Bully! Sukuna who sits next to you in class, hands shamelessly resting upon your seat, thighs occasionally nudging against yours, watching you with a smirk as a blush spreads across your cheek.
Bully! Sukuna who has no business with the library, but he comes anyways because he know you'll be there. Trapping you between a shelf and him, watching you look like you're about to pass out. Saying, "What d'you want, shorty?" when you can't reach a top shelf, only to tease you about it.
Bully! Sukuna who playfully tugs onto your hair, makes fun of you for being such a nerd, for not having a boyfriend, for being no fun. He sometimes snatches your glasses away and watches you desperately jump as you try to get it from him. To see your tits bounce...it makes him so fucking hard.
Bully! Sukuna who, every day, after returning to his dorm, has to "relieve himself" and it's all thanks to you. Imagining your lips glossed up, wrapped around his cock, slurping, licking— it makes him cum like no one before, not even the previous girls he has slept with.
Bully! Sukuna who glares holes into the guy who was hitting on you in the corridors. Only he can make you blush. He stalks over, arm wrapping around your waist possessively.
"Fuck off." he growls, and the guy respectfully backs off.
Bully! Sukuna who, for the very first time, looks upset when he sees you cry out of frustration.
"What is your problem?" you sob, wiping the tears with the back of your palm. He pushes you against the wall, hand next to your face, trapping you, the other reaching to wipe the tears falling out of your pretty eyes as he leans down to whisper into your ears, lips brushing against your lobe, "You."
Bully! Sukuna who avoids you ever since that day. Too emotionally constipated. Not sitting next to you, not teasing you, barely even looking at you. You feel strange—strangely empty without having him annoy the crap out of you. The thought of him pressing you against the wall, so close to you- making you heat up as you think of it again and again.
Bully! Sukuna who absolutely did not expect that you would approach him as he smokes, back resting against the wall. Who is glad to see you, but doesn't show it. Instead, conceals it with a cocky smirk and says, "Missed me, eh?"
Bully! Sukuna who loves the sight of your cheeks flush at his words, the angry pout upon your lips, your inability to speak from how flustered you feel. But can't help but freeze when you reply with a small, "Y-Yeah."
Bully! Sukuna who discards the cigarette butt instantly, grabbing you by the hands to pull you flush against him, pulling your chin up to see you closely. Fuck you for being so beautiful. "Why don't you tell me how much you missed me?"
Bully! Sukuna who is taken by surprise when you tiptoe to press a kiss on his lips. He growls lowly, the feeling of your soft, plump lips making him go wild with thoughts— all the ones he pent up in his mind. He bites your lower lip, tongue embracing yours.
Bully! Sukuna who's so glad he found his sweet little girl. Surprised that you even liked him, but decides that you're his now. His sweet girl he'll protect at all costs. Of course he's a bit mean, but it's only him who can tease you. The rest will face instant death if they even try.
+drabble
"So fuckin' wet..." he growls into your ear, fingers rubbing your swollen nub through your pink panties, the cloth dampening with every touch he gave you. God knows how many times he has dreamt of this moment, only to have to jerk himself off the next morning. But to finally have you like this, it felt so fucking good.
He nibbles onto your neck, finding a sensitive spot that makes you gasp. Pulling your panties aside, he rubs the entrance of your cunt before he inserts a finger, walls shamelessly clenching around it. "Such a tight pussy..." he growls as he easily, through experience, finds your g-spot and nudges against it. A single finger is enough to make you wither. Pathetic.
"S-Sukuna..." you moan out, the sound of it making him add another one of his long fingers inside you. You gasp as they curl against a particular spot, more of your slick covering his fingers as he continues abusing the particular spot. "How cute," he chuckles darkly, loving how desperately your virgin pussy is squeezing around his fingers. He pulls it out, a dark expression on his face when he says, "You've got no idea how much I've dreamt of having this."
He chuckles upon seeing your cheeks flush deep red, arms on your hips, pushing you up to sit on the wooden bench. He parts your legs, kneeling to get a better view. "You gonna let me have a taste?" Before you can say a word, his tongue grazes your slit, making you yelp "Suku—ah..!"
His tongue works wonders, lapping against your puffy folds, teasing you, driving you crazy each time it so agonisingly grazes your sensitive clit. He slurps around shamelessly, making you moan quietly, afraid that someone will hear you.
"Nggh...k-kuna..." you moan messily, slick dripping down his chin, creating a mess. He loves every second of it. It's just like he imagined. Lapping up your sweet juices skillfully with his tongue, hands holding your legs apart, nails digging crescents into the soft, plush skin of your thighs. His actions drive you to the edge, your hands desperately clamping down your mouth to remain quiet, "Mmh...C-Cumming!"
He parts from your lower half, the sight of your hazed, flushed face, looking at him so adoringly— making his cock strain painfully against his pants. He captures your lips in a kiss, leaving them swollen as he parts. You look at him, collecting all the boldness you can possible muster when your hands reach to tug at his belt.
"Sukuna...let me return the favour."
divider: @/cafekitsune
thefallofruins2023 © plagirising/translation/repost of my work is not permitted.
#sukuna x reader#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you#sukuna smut#ryomen sukuna smut#ryomen sukuna#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu sukuna#jjk smut#jjk x reader#ruins posts
16K notes
·
View notes
Text
gamer!bf sukuna drabble
·:*¨༺ nsfw mdni ༻¨*:·
gamer!bf sukuna who is always sat at his desk, shooting at something
gamer!bf sukuna who will lose track of time and play for hoursss, not even acknowledging your existence until you interrupt his game play with dinner
gamer!bf sukuna who buys you your own gaming set up after catching you playing on his computer when you think he isn't home (he positions your new monitor and gaming chair right next to his)
gamer!bf sukuna who laughs in your face when you ask if he wants to play minecraft with you (how dare you recommend something that isn't violent? silly little thing. do you even know him?)
"so childish... why the fuck would i play that?"
gamer!bf sukuna who feels bad after you pout at him for making fun of you, reluctantly agreeing to play fortnite (the tamest game he'll play)
gamer!bf sukuna who is never not yelling at someone through his headset
"you stupid fuck! ask your mother how my dick tastes"
gamer!bf sukuna who loves when you pull up a chair to watch him play
gamer!bf sukuna who let's you sit in his lap, the controller in your hands with his hands over yours, pushing the buttons for you... the elated grin on your face when you finally kill someone makes his dick hard
"baby! i did it! i got him!"
"that's my good girl, now let me reward you"
gamer!bf sukuna who loves that you play animal crossing at your desk next to him while he plays cs:go and valorant, you eventually put on your noise canceling headphones because he won't stop screaming
"what the actual FUCK was that? you're trash. GET OUT OF MY LOBBY"
gamer!bf sukuna who finally agrees to play minecraft with you after weeks of begging, enjoying it more than he thought he would (the face you make when he finally says yes causes his heart flutter just a little bit... but he'll never tell you that, constantly groaning at how boring it is, but playing it with you for three hours)
he runs around killing creepers and skeletons to quell his homicidal ideations instead of helping you build a house
"why the hell would we build a fake house when we're literally sitting in our real one?"
so fucking sassy for no reason
he'd run around collecting a mob of enemies instead, luring them into a pit before sealing it off and dumping a bucket of lava on them, laughing as they slowly burn to death...bro is insane i stg...
gamer!bf sukuna who let's you wear his headset while he plays a 1v1 in a custom lobby, laughing at his opponents obvious anger and frustration thinking they're losing to you (COD is so misogynistic, and sukuna is thoroughly amused when he gets to put them in their place on your behalf)
gamer!bf sukuna who beams with pride when you start picking up on gaming terms
"that guy sucks, he's just camping", you say, brows furrowed in annoyance.
"who the fuck did you learn that word from?"
"who do you think i learned it from, dumbass?" you retort, a taunting smile on your lips.
he just grins, "god, you're so fuckin' sexy. but drop the attitude before i fuck it outta you."
gamer!bf sukuna who attempts to teach you how to play call of duty, battlefield, and cs:go
"you'll get better, doll. just keep tryin'"
gamer!bf sukuna who refuses to admit that he actually enjoys playing minecraft with you, hoping you'll suggest to play it first
gamer!bf sukuna who looks down from his monitor to see you kneeling under his desk, head between his legs, sucking him off while he's on discord talking to his friends; tangling his hands in your hair, biting the inside of his cheek when you deepthroat him unexpectedly, his hips bucking off his chair. "you dirty fuckin' girl, it's like you want them to hear" he moans out. his friends erupt in laughter after hearing him, but he doesn't want you to stop. exhibitionist!sukuna has entered the chat
"you can stay and listen if you want, at least im gettin' some unlike you virgins"
gamer!bf sukuna who fucks you rough when he loses a game
"god you're so fuckin' tight for me" he groans, his grip tight on your hips. he looks down to watch your pretty pussy suck him in. you squirm, his cock burying itself deeper and deeper inside you with every trust, whining as he pushes your head into the mattress, his strokes unrelenting.
"uh uh. don't move...stay right fuckin' there n take this dick, brat."
‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾
author notes: hehehe...this was super fun to write. if you have any requests, send them here! if u wanna be added to my anon club, drop an emoji with ur submission and ill add u to my pinned post ☺︎
i've already written longer, smut-filled stories of gamer!bf sukuna,,u can read them here and here and here
thank u liking, commenting, and reblogging...it makes me kick my feet n giggle when i get the notification ♡
© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.
#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen writing#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk fanfic#ryomen sukuna#sukuna ryomen smut#jujustu kaisen smut#sukuna smut#jjk smut#jjk oneshot#jjk x reader#sukuna oneshot#bratbby333
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
yours, indefinitely
- geto suguru x reader
each memorable and meaningful moment shared by the two of you during your journey to parenthood ♡
genre/warnings:
18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact! (yes i can't resist it) pregnancy, a lot of comfort and love, insecurities, hurt/comfort, a dash of crack, soft!geto, massive and absolute fluff !!
note:
based on this and this. this... is an idea i got after writing drabbles about soft dad gojo :') you all know this is my first time writing geto and the first time in a while i'm writing a longer fic so i'm having a lot of doubts but i hope you'll enjoy it!! wc. 3k !
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
When you found out that you were five weeks pregnant, you were genuinely conflicted for two reasons— one, it was unexpected as you weren't even married yet, and two, you were anxious about your boyfriend's reaction to the news.
But contrary to your worries and fears, doubts and tears... Geto Suguru marries you. He led you to the city hall almost immediately— and just like that, in the eyes of the law, you were officially husband and wife.
Because he has always known that he wants to share his life with you, and with this newfound responsibility, it only reinforces his conviction that he wants that kind of forever with you.
MONTH TWO
Your pregnancy wasn't a breeze—no pregnancy is, to be exact—and you had resigned yourself to mornings of throwing up, but you definitely didn't expect that you would get so sick to the point of almost passing out in the bathroom.
You never wanted Suguru to see you like this, but when a strong arm got a hold of you and pulled back your hair, your heart soared regardless.
"Hey, you okay?" Suguru asked, clear worry lined in his eyes. It was five in the morning—he must've been awoken by the ruckus you caused in the bathroom.
When you heaved a breath and nodded, his frown deepened. "Why didn't you call me?"
"N-no, Sugu—" the words barely left your lips before the overwhelming urge to retch hit you again and you doubled over the toilet bowl.
Suguru maintained a steady hold on your body, and not once did he waver even when you puked your guts out. His grip only loosened when you were done, supporting you up and assisting you in rinsing your mouth at the sink.
"Do you feel better?" he asked gently, dabbing your mouth with a tissue. "Do you want me to get you some water?"
"Suguru, you don't have to—" you untangled yourself from him feebly, still feeling faint. "It stinks here—"
"I have to," he reinforced, gaze boring straight at you. "Do you really think a smelly bathroom will stop me?"
“I d-don't want to trouble you...”
Suguru sighed and the next thing you knew, you found yourself being lifted in a princess carry, his hands securely under your knees. Surprised, you let out a yelp. "Suguru! P-put me down!"
"I'm telling you, you should trouble me," he pursed his lips together, face inching closer to yours, his dark eyes captivating, almost drawing you in. "We're in this together, remember?"
And in that very second, the sound of your heartbeat echoed in your ears, and with it a renewed sense of love you had for this man, once just a figure you admired from afar and now, wholly your husband.
"Yeah..." you responded with a soft smile, completely unaware that Suguru cherished seeing that expression on your face more than anything else.
MONTH THREE
When you reached the third month, you thank all heavenly deities out there that your nausea was getting much better.
But in its place was your outrageous craving requests that more often than not sent Suguru into a daze.
"Wha? Say that again?" he looked at you with twitching eyes, mostly in disbelief. "You can't seriously ask me to... get what?"
"Ice cream with lemon toothpaste flavor," you looked at him with sad puppy eyes, almost resembling that glassy-eyed emoji. "It seemed tasty, Suguru... I want it."
His immediate response was clear this time. "No. Love, that... I doubt that combination even exists."
"Hmph... but baby wants it."
"But—!"
"Or I'll just get the toothpaste and—"
"No! Absolutely no!" okay, this was crazy, but Suguru would figure it out, somehow. "You can't eat toothpaste! I'll get it for you, okay!"
"Teehee~" your small giggle actually made his head spin even further, but if it meant you and your baby's wellbeing, Geto Suguru would cross the roads and did something to get you that non-existent ice cream.
In the end, he settled for mint and orange (because the parlor ran out of lemon) to recreate the nonsense of lemon toothpaste flavor. But when you tasted it, your eyes welled up with tears though.
“This... doesn't taste like toothpaste or lemon,” you sniffled, feeling betrayed. “Suguru, you liar.”
. . . oh, and here goes round two of wild goose chase of recreating edible ice cream for you and the baby. Sigh.
MONTH FOUR
With each passing day, your belly swelled, becoming increasingly prominent and rounder. And you wouldn’t believe it but the pregnancy glow was there—through your husband’s eyes, you looked most radiant, carrying his baby.
And it multiplied more when he saw you interact with his two girls.
"Miss Y/N, is it a boy or a girl?" Nanako inquired, touching your bump, her voice filled with excitement.
"Ah, we haven't found out yet..." you patted her in the head, quite touched that now she cared for you this much too. "What do you think it's going to be, Nanako-chan?"
"Ooh, it has to be a boy! If it's a boy, surely he'll be as handsome as Master Geto!"
Mimiko, ever the calmer of the two, hummed. "Hmm, personally I think it's going to be a girl."
"Ehh? If it's a girl... I guess, yeah— at least she's going to be cute!"
Maybe it was your hormones at play, but your spirits dampened somewhat when you noticed how Nanako leaned more towards the prospect of baby brother. The thought lingered in your mind even later that night on your marital bed, as Suguru spooned you from behind.
“Come to think about it, I think we can find out the gender right about now…” you mused, stroking your belly absentmindedly. “Suguru, do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”
Suguru chuckled, placing his warm, bigger hand over yours on your growing tummy. “Hmm, you first. What do you think?”
"Honestly... a girl. At least, if it were up to me, I want a girl though."
"Ah, cute." Suguru felt his smile broaden at the very idea. "Mimiko and Nanako will get an adorable sister to play dress up with."
You nibbled your lower lip. "But you'd want a boy, wouldn't you?"
"Hm? No," he responded almost immediately. "Quite the opposite, actually. I'm with you on this one. A girl would be nice."
"Even when you already have the twins?"
"Another baby girl— what's so bad with that?" Suguru sighed against your neck, his palm still tenderly caressing your belly. "One who will look like you—the woman whom I love the most... what are you worried about?"
One thing you loved about Suguru was his eloquence. His words had the power to persuade you, even when they seemed at odds with your own beliefs. And more often than not, his words were always aimed to make you feel safe.
And right now, you couldn't have loved him more.
. . .
In your next checkup, as if the gods were all granting your wish all this time— you're having a girl.
MONTH FIVE
“Why won’t she kick?” Suguru pressed his ears on your tummy on the bed, brows knitting together.
You grinned. “She was quite lively a little while ago. She's probably resting now.”
Suguru pursed his lips into a pout, snuggling closer to your round belly. “Hmm, little one, can you hear me? Just one kick for papa, please?”
Moments like this were ones you cherished the most. Your husband's love for your unborn child always filled your heart with warmth.
“She’s not responding.” Suguru sat up with a gentle sigh, a hint of disappointment shadowing his expression. Yet, he quickly mustered a warm smile for you. “Tired after bothering mama, huh?”
Suddenly, you let out a hearty chuckle. “You know, Suguru… I think our baby resembles you.”
He blinked in puzzlement. “Eh? How so?”
“She’s so peaceful, hardly causes me any discomfort lately—she’s idyllic, just like you.” You could feel your face getting warm but you just had to say this to your husband.
Suguru was visibly taken aback, but then the hints of pink tinted his face as he smiled. “Well… I’m glad that it’s been a smooth experience for you so far.”
Your heart swelled at his tender, genuine smile. Then, as if on cue, you felt the familiar stirrings and flutter inside—
“Suguru!”
You caught his hand and placed it on your tummy, just in time for your daughter to kick.
Suguru’s eyes sparkled with awe. "Did she just—?"
It was a profound moment for him, feeling the tangible sign of the new life you both had created. And as your laughter filled the room, light and joyful, Suguru knew with unwavering certainty—
He would do everything in his power to protect you and this baby. Who had become his whole world now.
MONTH SIX
It began as one ordinary day— before came the most horrific incident Suguru never thought would happen to you.
He got a call that you had passed out in the train station. Suguru had never truly known fear until then, feeling every hair on his body stand on end. The details he was provided were frustratingly vague, and he desperately tried not to think the worst.
He was teetering on the edge of a panic attack as he made his way towards the hospital you were brought to. The mere possibility of anything harmful happening to either you or the baby was unbearable. He didn't allow himself to consider any negative outcomes, driven by the need to be by your side.
By the time he arrived, you had regained consciousness, though you were still drifting in and out, clinging onto your swimming consciousness.
"Are you okay? Love, talk to me." Suguru got a hold of your hand as soon as he arrived, voice trembling. "What happened?"
"Suguru..." you managed to reply in feeble voice, still feeling the dull pounding in your temples. You could feel him squeeze your hand tighter. "I-I'm sorry... to m-make you worry..."
"Why are you saying sorry?" Suguru gritted his teeth in frustration. Always putting others first, he loved and sometimes hated that trait of yours. He stroked your hair. "Tell me how you feel. Do you feel better? Or should I call the doctor?"
Seeing how deeply concerned he was for both you and your baby brought a tear to your eyes. "I'm f-fine... just a little dizzy is all."
Once the doctor examined you and determined that you needed to stay in the hospital for a day due to low blood pressure, Suguru was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief.
"You really, really scared me," he said in a raspy voice. "So many things could've gone wrong. What if you fell into the tracks instead? You would— I —" his voice actually hitched. "I could've lost both of you today."
At his words, a new flood of tears threatened to spill from your eyes, and you couldn't help but sniffle. Suguru immediately comforted you.
“You’re okay, you’re okay… Don’t cry, please.” He cradled your face gently, thinking he had spooked you. “Just rest. I’m here,” and his other hand rubbed your belly for reassurance. “You and the baby are safe.”
Through this, you realized once again just how secure you were, with him.
MONTH SEVEN
You had been taking the prenatal classes lately—Suguru insisted on it because there was nothing he wouldn't spare for you— and the reality once again sank into you that you were going to have a little human to love and care soon.
"You need to hold her like this..." the friendly instructor guided, positioning her hand on the back of the doll's head. "Be gentle when washing the head, and make sure not to scratch her—"
Now you were once again learning how to bathe the baby. It felt complicated at first, but after the fifth session, you were getting the hang of it.
Not the case with Suguru though. He seemed to be genuinely struggling.
"No, sir! You're going to drown her like that!" the instructor gasped in horror, pulling the baby doll out of your husband's grasp. "I'm sorry, but the way you're holding her is too risky! You have to lower her slowly—"
It brought a wide smile on your face. It was a rare sight to see him not being good at what he was doing, so seeing him totally confused like this was refreshing.
"This is... not quite as easy as it looks," he let out a long sigh, still trying to wash the doll's head as gently as he was instructed. "And I can't really tell when I'm being too rough or not."
"Just imagine it's a real baby, how soft you think you can be?" you advised, almost giggling. "Babies are delicate, sort of like... oh! You can think of them as sensitive as Gojo!"
Suguru gave you a look. "If it were a baby with Satoru's face... I might just flip and toss him away."
And yet despite having a hard time for it, Suguru was persistent in this practice. Because no way was he going to miss out bathing his baby.
MONTH EIGHT
"Suguru... we—" you said in one intake of breath, but unable to continue as he crashed his lips into yours.
With skilled hands, Suguru deftly maneuvered the inside of your maternity sleepwear, unclasping your bra and your breasts—now heavy and full of milk—spilling out.
You didn’t mean to drag him into this. You just made one comment about how you thought that he no longer seemed to desire you as much now and Suguru responded by pulling you into a searing kiss, as if to show you that he, in fact, very much still does.
He groped your left breast and your body spasmed as you let out a hitched moan, writhing under him.
“What part of you—” he drawled, eyes blazing with certain electricity, voice deep and low—and you couldn’t help getting even wetter down there. “—that you said I’m not interested in anymore, mama?”
You mewled, feeling so small under him. You could only whine as he stripped you out of your silken undergarments and let you lay there bare, ready for the taking.
In Suguru’s eyes, you were the most divine. The mother of his child couldn't be less than heavenly. Seeing you so swollen and so full, with everything that was his—made him harder than ever possible.
You would learn it the fast way as his lips latched on your neck, nimble fingers worked through your breasts, and then your pussy—
“Ride me,” he commanded, right after turning you into a wet mush three times and tasting your cum—which was still as sweet as ever. He helped you get up and sat on his hardened member, that slid so easily inside you as you let out a whimper.
Gone was your gentle husband—he always turned into another beast entirely in bed.
“Look at you, sitting so pretty for me like this,” Suguru remarked with a meaningful grin as he placed his hands on both sides of your enormous belly.
“Mmnghh!” you scrunched your eyes shut. The sounds you made were completely beyond your will by now. Everything was just overwhelming you. The way his thick cock sheathed itself inside you and made you feel full, and the way your baby twisted and turned inside you at the same time was mind-blowing— and you haven't even started moving yet.
You could already see it already, how much of a mess you were going to be in once this ended.
Suguru noticed the baby’s rambunctious movement too and lightly tapped the skin of your belly, maintaining his sly smile.
“Oh, baby… forgive your papa and mama and buckle up, yeah? It’s going to be a rough ride for a bit.”
And soon, on one fateful morning, you were awoken by signs of labor, followed by your water breaking and full-blown contractions.
Suguru was beside you the entire time, worriedly hovering over you for support. He held you tight, providing comfort as you curled inwards each time intense contraction gripped your womb like a vice, hardening it into a rock-hard mass. Now is the real deal, he thought. Suddenly he was having doubts himself— he was going to become a parent. Both of you are.
Seeing you subjected to that much pain was almost unbearable, and even more so when your pained cries and screams echoed through the room as you brought your baby into the world, but then, then, suddenly—
His baby girl is here. She fit perfectly in his arms, round and snug in her blanket, with the softest black tufts of hair that she inherited from him. She cooed and mewled in her sleep—
—and Geto Suguru thought, nothing—absolutely nothing else mattered the very moment he laid eyes on his beautiful daughter.
"She is so tiny, so precious," Suguru whispered, his finger gently tracing the soft cheeks of the sleeping baby. Leaning on his shoulder, you could only sigh in awe, marveling at the sight of your husband and your new baby.
"Thank you," he turned to you then, eyes brimming with unshed tears and emotions. For giving me a another person to care for and love.
And you were at your happiest, finding yourself falling in love with your husband all over again, knowing well that he would cherish you with everything he had.
Days and months following the birth of your daughter was hectic and eventful.
Nanako and Mimiko had been a really great help around the house, and they adored your baby daughter more than anything, always taking turns to entertain her and make her all giggly, which brought you to another level of happiness.
And most of all, Suguru had taken his new role as a dad very seriously. You remembered him visibly struggling at baby care classes, but now he was a master of diaper changing and baby bathing— and you wouldn't be surprised if he was even better than you by now.
"Suguru, how are you so great at this all of a sudden?" you genuinely wondered with a literal question mark as you watched him washing your daughter in a bubble bath, her laughter filling the room.
"Hard work and perseverance, love," he replied, his tone light but proud. And you snorted when he gave you a wink.
Your daughter had never been shy to cry her heart out at 3 in the morning too, and each time she did, whenever you were about to leave the bed, Suguru would gently hold you back with a raspy voice, murmuring, "I'll get her. Go back to sleep."
He was the best husband a woman could ask for. Throughout the five months of your postpartum, he always made sure that you stayed hydrated, had a lot of rest and consumed nutritious food to replenish your strength. He always took over the baby-rearing duties whenever possible. You were treated no less than a princess, and honestly you were ever so grateful.
And so this time, despite his willingness, you got up from the bed and went to the baby's room. And the sight there caught your heart—
"There, there..." Suguru's voice was thick with sleep, yet he rocked your daughter back and forth with gentle patience. "Do you want to change your blanket? Is it not comfy for you?"
Your heart softened, melted—perhaps even fluttered away with the wind, turning into mush. When you first discovered a year ago that you were going to have a baby, you could never have anticipated that this was the life you would find yourself in.
Suguru opted to switch the blanket for a new one, but as you watched him fold and unfold it several times, confusion evident on his face, you decided it was time to step in.
"Here, you do it like this," your sudden appearance startled him, as you gently took the fabric away from him and wrapped your fussy daughter in it. "Looks like I finally found something you're still not great at," you teased, a playful smile dancing on your lips.
He was about to usher you back to the bedroom until you said that. "Heh."
You loved this life, and he too wouldn't trade it for the world. In the quiet tranquility of dawn, after both of you had successfully put your baby back to sleep, you spoke, "Thank you... and I love you, Suguru."
But he thought— you shouldn't have to thank him for anything, because after all, Geto Suguru lives for two princesses in his life; you and his baby daughter.
And after this, all that was left was giving you the wedding celebration of your dreams, one that both of you had been setting aside for a while now.
#geto x reader#geto suguru x reader#suguru geto x reader#jjk x reader#suguru x reader#jjk smut#jjk fluff#suguru geto smut#18+ only#geto suguru#geto suguru smut#geto fluff#geto smut#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x reader fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff#jjk imagines#geto suguru fluff#geto x you
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
meeting simon in the army.
18+ MDNI || nsfw || f!reader || oneshot/drabble || masterlist
wc: around 4.8k
cw: eventual smut, unprotected p in v, lil massage trope, spit kink, simon being his own enemy, reader being oblivious, simon loves tits, simon’s kinda mean at first but sweet at the end-ish, not proofread.
Lieutenant Riley is familiar with the process of adding a new addition to their little task force. but just because he's familiar with it, doesn't mean he's a fan of it.
a new member, a new person means that he has to most likely deal with another soap of sorts. don't get it wrong, he's okay with soap, but that doesn't mean he enjoys the constant questions soap seems to ask about him, even when he knows they irritate him, but that won't stop his curiosity.
you're confident when you show up to the meeting room, nothing new. recruits are either confident in themselves or they're completely terrified and it'll be written all over their faces.
soap is quick to befriend you, both of you snipers and demolition experts after all. it gives him a whole new buddy to talk with. simon takes this as a good sign, maybe he won't have to spend much time showing your around and telling you about the team and how things work here if soap is gonna spend all his time with you. right? wrong.
Price assigns soap on a mission with another task force soap had recently worked with before TF141. meaning that Simon is going to have to spend every free waking moment he has with you. and for a guy like Simon, this is hell. but don't take it the wrong way, he's like this with everyone.
you're quick to find the large man rude, dismissive. you'll ask barely personal questions and he'll shrug it off and blatantly ignore you. will roll his eyes or just walk away mid-conversation (which was one-sided anyway).
maybe you talked too much? had you asked him too many questions? maybe he just didn't like you for absolutely zero reason. you decided to stop thinking too much about it. you didn't do anything wrong, maybe he's just a natural-born asshole.
Soap had mentioned something about the lieutenant having a stick somewhere deep up his ass and to not worry too much about how he treats you.
however, after telling yourself you'd stop losing sleep over it, you continued.
maybe he just wasn't used to having a woman on his team. They are all men after all. but that wouldn't be professional, plus the others aren't like that with you. they kinda just treat you like their own. they knew about your background, and what you have done, and they respected you for it, so why couldn't he?
simon knows better than most about your background, he had to study your file after Price mentioned your recruitment.
"weapons of choice - melee; knives, axe."
a shared opinion.
he trains with you to see how advanced you really are. weapon training and all that is fine, but sparring? this has to be a joke. that mountain of a man versus you? you've got muscle to you, yeah, but even soap going against simon is an evident loss. and soap is a big guy.
you start off with Gaz. he's also tall and well built, but he's the more common build of soldiers. you guys spar for an hour, or two, and then you take a break.
you don't think much about who your next spar round will be with, so the anxiousness doesn't begin to settle in until ghost's rough voice calls you over to the mat. he's the only one there. and it settles in.
you look over at Gaz and the look on his face is one of pity, your face drops.
it's not even 30 seconds into the round when you're already dropped to the ground. the mat feels like concrete when you hit your back on it.
"c'mon, get up." ghost says in an almost pissed off way.
you groan and roll over, quickly getting back up on your feet. "no mercy?" you ask in a huff. "you won't get mercy when you're fighting for your life in the field, you should know this, sergeant." he states dryly, but the way he said 'sergeant' sounded like an insult rolling off his tongue.
after 30 minutes of repeatedly losing, you admit defeat. but at least he stays with you after hours when the others have left, leaving you both alone so you don't have to keep losing in front of a crowd.
3 months of dry responses, frequent scoldings, straight-up constant attitude from the man and not many interactions besides from when he was ordering you around or lecturing you about a fuck up in training or on a mission.
and even though he wouldn't interact with you much, it somehow seemed that he was always on your ass, always watching to see what your next fuck up would be, always so observant. because why the hell were his eyes always on you? every time you'd glance over at him, he'd already be looking at you with that dark 1000-yard stare, arms crossed and sitting across any room you were in at the moment.
3 months is what it takes for him to not act like a complete brooding asshole towards you even for just a moment. reason? you saved his life.
sort of.
simon was clearing a wide area in a warehouse on a mission and it seems one of the men there seemed to blend in far better than anyone else could. Simon was almost too late, almost the one standing at the receiving end of a bullet to the head, but you had him. and you saved him.
neither of you thought too much about it though, after all, it is your job to have each other's backs in the field. he only gave you a gruff "thank you" when he brushed passed you towards the exit. but you took that thank you as a sign that he didn't absolutely despise you like you had thought he did for the past 3 months.
or so you thought. not much changed afterwards. but at least whenever you'd start a conversation, he'd just stare at you instead of walking off. but he'd always stay quiet. you wanted to give up, you should've given up. but something deep inside you had you pushing.
what it was wasn't so obvious at the time.
but that's probably because you were so oblivious.
you didn't know him like the boys did, you were new. so no one could've blamed you for not seeing the obvious frustration you caused him. soap on the other hand thought it was bloody comedic.
you always assumed the triple checks on your comms and positions were just because he didn't trust you enough to know what you were doing. because why would you think anything else with the way he behaved towards you?
the way he'd suddenly appear when a private was up and flirting with you. he'd come and scold you for having chitchat when you should've been doing paperwork, his jaw tensed. he'd look behind you to give the private a glare that you would've assumed was a 'get back to work' glare and not the threatening glare it actually was, because why would you think otherwise?
when you all went out to the pub for a drink after a long exhausting mission to relax a bit, but you hadn't had alcohol in so long so you didn't think to slow down, eventually blacking out on Simon's shoulder, and ending up in your quarters at the end of the night, boots off and snuggly tucked in under your sheets.
what you did notice is that you'd never be assigned to missions that ghost wasn't on. you caught on eventually but you never mentioned it, too annoyed with him to start an argument you knew you'd lose.
but when you're all at the pub on another night, soap and gaz over by the pool table, drunkenly betting against each other, and price long gone back to the base and having called it an early night, leaving the two of you at the table alone, it slips out.
he's been ignoring your attempted starts of a conversation all night, the alcohol had given you the motivation you needed to try again, but you've had enough of the silent treatment.
"hey, i've noticed I only go on missions that you're on.." he tenses. "'s that because you don't trust me? or somethin?"
he doesn't respond as per usual, and you know he's already annoyed with you but you keep pushing.
"you can be a real prick, y'know?" you mumble out, earning a side glance from him, his hand on the table, fingers tapping on his empty glass. he stays quiet.
"I just don't understand why you dislike me or whatever. I haven't done anything to you personally, I don't think.." you trail off, furrowing your brows as if in thought. he just stares down at you.
"you're a real pain in my ass" you then state rather confidently. he raises his brow at this before looking down at his empty glass and muttering a "Seems we've got that in common."
you roll your eyes and groan, moving to grab your beer but he moves it further up the table before you can reach it.
"hey-" you start but he interrupts, "you've 'ad enough." he grumbles out and you scoff, standing up from the chair and walking over to where Soap and Gaz are laughing it up with each other.
but maybe he's had a bit too much to drink too.
because the moment a man starts flirting with you at the bar, his hand just a bit too touchy, Simon appears, his hand is gripping the man's shoulder and pulling him back with an angered "back off."
you can't even manage out a "what the hell-?" before he's grabbing your bicep and dragging you out of the pub. you stop protesting rather quickly, too tired to continue. you just let him drag you all the way back to the base where he only lets go of you when he reaches the doorstep of your barracks building.
"sleep. now. don't wanna deal with your lazy tired ass tomorrow when you're moping around because you didn't get enough rest." he grunts out before abruptly turning in his place and leaving.
it's the next week when you're in the break room sitting across from Soap who's on his phone and drinking his coffee when you voice your troubles. "I can't deal with him anymore, Soap, really. he gives me such a hard time and I don't understand why," you practically whine to him.
"bloke doesn't know what to do with you when you practically give him a hard on all the time." he says it so plainly. as if it's a common fact, no big deal.
though you, of course, take it as a joke.
"Oh shut up, I'm serious." you groan through a chuckle and he just looks up at you and smirks before excusing himself to go back to his duties, leaving you there to mope at the wall.
the hell does that even mean?
luckily for you, you forget all about your short conversion in the break room, your mind too occupied from the busy week to care about a little dumb joke that soap told.
maybe you should've sat to think about said joke for longer.
you zone out while you do paperwork, your mind running on autopilot so that you don't pay attention to the time on the clock running past 11:30pm.
you hands hurt. your wrists hurt. and your back is sore from uncomfortably hunching over this old desk in this dinky chair that doesn't even spin properly.
you're too tired and too caught up in mentally complaining about everything to notice the tall figure standing in the doorway of the office you're working.
so when he speaks, voice baritone and accent thick, it scares the absolute living shit out of you. letting out a short yell and flinging your pen across the room, you look over at him.
you roll your eyes, too tired to even deal with him right now, preparing for him to lecture you about how sleeping late is bad for you even though literally everyone on base knows that he has the most fucked schedule of them all.
"I know it's late, I don't wanna hear it. this is the only free time I had to do this." you explain, your voice low and tired.
"didn't say anything." he responds and you glare up at him, and he knows.
he walks across the room and picks up the pen that you flung, his heavy steps making their way over to you and handing you back your pen.
he hasn't done or said anything threatening, so then why does it feel like he did?
you whisper a small 'thank you' before looking back down at your sheet and writing a few things down. he just stands there, staring down at your with crossed arms, observing. always observing. that's all he does. all he ever does.
you try to not let it get to you but he's just so intimidating.
you clench your jaw and breathe for a moment before focusing back on your paper. but just as you do that, he rounds the desk and stands behind your chair.
he grabs the chair, pulling it back a bit before his voice demands out, "stand,". you don't hesitate a moment before standing up quickly.
silence.
why does it feel like ages before he finally speaks??
"you're tense." he states and you furrow your brows because what the hell is happening. "y-yeah, I guess?"
the air is thick.
you're so caught up in empty thoughts that you don't hear what he says. "sorry, what'd you say?" you ask but it comes out a whisper without you intending for it to.
"may I?"
you're not sure what he means but you still slowly nod.
you suddenly freeze and your eyes go wide when you feel his palm wrap around your hair and move it to the side, his other hand resting in the crevice between your shoulder and neck, bare.
he's not wearing the glove.
his hand is warm when he suddenly squeezes you there, checking to see just how tense you are and your mind is blank. your thoughts have evaporated and you can't fucking move, because what the hell is happening!?
"why're you so bloody tense?" he asks, his voice so fucking deep that it makes your skin warm up. you've always hated the effect that his voice alone has on you.
'maybe because you're touching me?' is what you think to yourself.
"I don't know? work?" you sound so unsure of yourself that it feels embarrassing.
he mutters a quiet "yeah." while he continues to massage the area.
you wouldn't say this is a complete 180º from the way he's been treating you for the past couple months, but... this is a complete fucking 180º from the way he's been treating you these past couple months.
but you can't deny how fucking good it feels. his hands are so big and warm. the roughness of them surprisingly adding so much more to the massage and it feels so. good.
you can't help the slight moan that escapes your lips when you dip your head forward, giving him more space to work with.
ghost would halt his movements but that would only make you suspicious of what's happening to him behind you he clenches his jaw hard, his entire body tensing as he feels his pants grow tight and fuck is he fighting back a groan.
he did this to himself. he should've just minded his business and muttered an order to you like he usually would. he should've put up the asshole act instead of strolling in and offering a goddamn massage because he would never in his right mind actually do this.
he's barely slept for the past three days, so he doesn't really have control over his own actions, especially when it comes to you. it's always you that gets him like this, only you.
it's quiet for so long while he just massages your shoulders. usually It would be awkward, but this time it's just comfortable.
when he finishes, his hands remain and you start to actually snap back to reality on where you are, who's behind you, and what's going on. you don't move, hell you barely breathe. how could you when you could feel every breath he takes hit the skin on the back of your neck or how you can feel the heat radiating off of him while he stands behind you as if he's a human furnace or something.
there's always been tension. whether it was negative or positive, you were never completely 100% sure which. but it was always there. and it bothered the fuck out of the both of you.
you feel his thumb caress your nape. just a small movement. you wouldn't've noticed if you weren't hyper focused on every fibre of his being standing right behind you, not caring for your personal space despite him always getting pissed about not having enough of his own.
you don't know how to move on from this moment. there're no words in your mouth, your body frozen still under his gaze, under his touch.
you want to say something, anything. but you don't know what.
"ghost," you start, but he doesn't answer, he just rubs his thumb over again. "ghost." you try again.
silence.
"simon." he stops.
"what are you doing?" you turn your head to the side when you whisper this, looking at him stand behind you out the corner of your eye, and he stares right back.
after his silence, you go to move but he stops you, his hands grabbing your arms and keeping you in place. you go to shake him off but when you lean your body back, you feel something against your ass and your breath hitches.
he shuts his eyes and clenches his jaw, he knows you felt it, and he knows he's fucked when he lets out a quiet groan.
"it seems you’ve been stressed too..." you mumble out and his grip on you only tightens. you don't think before you nudge your ass against him again but with purpose and his breathing stutters.
"Don't." he demands through gritted teeth, but you only do it again and he doesn't stop you.
he then pushes you forward and you gasp, your crotch hitting the desk edge as you bend over the desk.
he doesn't do anything for a few moments as he thinks over what he's doing. he's your superior. this is wrong. so why does it feel so good to drag his hand down your back.
he then suddenly lets go of you and backs up, confusing you in the process. you stand back up and turn to stare at him, your brows furrowed and you open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out.
the way you look at him, it's as if there's hope in your eyes and that only spurs him on to do what he does next. he moves his hand up to raise the bottom of his mask up to rest just over his nose. he then quickly loops his arm around your waist and pulls you in for your lips to meet his in a kiss born off of sexual frustration.
you're quick to wrap one of your arms around his neck, not caring at all for what this means because god it feels so good.
he groans against your lips and pushes you back against the desk, lifting you a bit to sit you down on it before he mumbles against your lips.
"you gon' let me do this?"
the man, your lieutenant, your superior who you thought hated you so damn much for the longest time, is asking for your permission as his hand squeezes your thigh.
this is crazy. all of this is crazy. yet you nod.
he spreads your thighs with his hands and stands between them while his mouth moves from your lips down to your jaw and then to your neck, his lips hot and wet against you.
you let him push you back until your back is flat against the desk, his hand moving to grab your hip to keep you in place just as he likes while his other hand loops under the waist band of your pants and palms you over your panties.
you can't help but whimper when he does this which only turns him on more. and he grunts against your neck when he removes his hand only to grind his covered bulge against you.
you huff out as he continues to grind against you, growing in need when heat begins to pool in your core while his hands grip at you tightly as if you'd disappear if he let go. and he's not about to risk that when he finally has you right where he wants you.
you pull at his clothes, a whine slipping from your lips and he knows what you want. one of his hands moves to slide your shirt up your stomach and you let him. when he does get the shirt off of you, he doesn't even go to unclip your bra, instead his hand moves to grab the front of your bra and drags it down, your tits falling out.
he grabs one of your tits and mouths it, sucking, while his other hand moves to pull your pants down.
he backs up and fully pulls your pants off before he's back on you, mouth on your tit while his left hand plays with the other and his right hand slips under the fabric of your panties, feeling how soaked you are.
his thumb applies pressure on your clit which has you already gasping and arching into his touch.
he teases you a bit, wanting to see how desperate you'd get before he actually fucks you with his cock. he slips a digit in and groans against your nipple when he feels how your wet warmth clenches around just his finger.
he adds another and then another, wanting to stretch you out enough for him to squeeze in.
he curls and thrusts his fingers in you, getting to that spongey spot in you that has you moaning and throwing your head back against the desk, whining fro him to finally put it in.
"y'want me?" he asks but you can't even reply.
"I asked if y'want me, love." his voice is gravel when he repeats himself, wanting an answer out of you before he takes this further.
you nod, frantic and and grinding against his palm for more friction against your clit. "y-yes, yes sir, please-" you answer and he feels his cock twitch in his pants.
he moves his lips back up to your neck and removes his hands from you, undoing his pants and pulling himself out, precum beading at his red tip.
you whimper at the sight of it. it's obvious to see how big of a man simon is in general, he's huge. and it seems that so is everything else about him.
he doesn't bother to remove your panties as he's too impatient. instead he just moves them to the side, his finger running down your slit before he brings it to his mouth to get a taste of you, letting out a satisfied hum.
he then brings his hand up to you and orders, "spit", and you do.
he pumps himself a few times to wet it before he aligns with your slit and you inhale when he starts to push in, stretching you out so perfectly for him. so fucking big.
he takes his time pushing into you, his warm breath against your neck when he groans as he bottoms out, deep inside you. “so fucking tight…” he groans through gritted teeth.
you clench around him, your hands slipping under the fabric of his shirt and your nails clawing at the skin on his back, wanting him to move already as you grow impatient and needy.
he does just that, drawing his hips back before thrusting back into you resulting in a yelp from you. and he doesn't stop.
his pace is already above slow and picking up with each time he hammers back into you, curses and moans falling from his lips like he's in heaven, because he is.
your lips meet his again and you moan into his mouth with each thrust. he makes out with you like a man starved, like he's been wanting this for so long…you under him while he fucks into you like it's the last thing he'll ever do.
the only sounds in the room being the squelching of your pussy as he thrusts into you and both of your moans. if anyone was walking down the hallway at this hour which is unlikely, they'd most definitely hear what you two are doing.
he moves his hand down and presses his thumb to your clit while he continues to fuck into you, rubbing it in circles which has you crying out through moans, tears of pleasure threatening to spill out the corners of your eyes.
your breathing becomes ragged as your back arches deeper into him, your hips bucking against his to meet his pace while he groans and nips at the skin on your neck, “takin’ me so well… s’ fuckin good f’me…” he moans and it sets your skin on fire.
he's close and so are you.
your fingers move under the back of the mask to pull at his short hair and he let's you do it, trusting you to not pull the mask off.
your lips against his ear, letting him hear all your pretty sounds and it only drives him further, his pace keeping steady, knowing just what you need when you moan out "i'm close..so close.." and he knows it too as he feels you clench tightly around him.
he surprises you when he places his thumb in your mouth when you moan, flattening it against your tongue and grunting a “open f’me, yeah?” and you do without hesitation, opening your mouth nice and wide enough for him to spit on your tongue. he doesn’t even have to tell you to swallow before you do it automatically, earning a smirk from him before he kisses you again.
the combination of his thumb rubbing in circles against your clit and him hammering into you has your body stuttering and spasming, feeling like you're getting possessed as you let out a strangled and broken quiet scream as you finally come undone beneath him, your vision going for a few moments while he fucks you through your orgasm.
you continue to moan when he keeps pumping into you after your orgasm, chasing his own high while he grunts out "'m gonna come... gonna come on your tummy, love.." before he quickly pulls out of you, leaning back up and pumping his cock a few times before he releases his load on your stomach followed by his heavy breaths.
he stares at you for a moment, his chest rising and lowering in heavy breaths before he leans over you to grab the tissue box in the corner of the desk and wipes his cum off of you.
he puts your panties back in place and steps back, handing you your pants. he shoves his cock back into his pants and then watches you pull yours back on, his arms crossed.
now that the foggy feeling in your mind is gone, you're shy as you stand under his gaze.
you just fucked your lieutenant.
he licks his lip before pulling the mask back down and sitting back onto the chair. you're confused for a moment before he nods his head in the direction of the door and mutters a "go t'sleep. it's late."
you look at the door and then back at him, furrowing your brows in confusion. "but my paperwork-" he interrupts you before you can finish your sentence. "I'll do your paperwork. now go to bed. tha's an order." he instructs and you stand there absolutely dumbfounded before you actually register his words.
you slowly nod and he clenches his jaw before he looks at the short stack of paperwork on the side of the desk, grabbing one and beginning to work on it, but you're still there.
"thought I told you t-" he pauses when you lean down to place a kiss on the fabric over where his temple is, taking him by surprise as it shuts him up.
you then give him a sweet smile, your hand sliding down his muscular arm before you turn around and walk out the small office, leaving him to do your paperwork after he fucked you so well just a moment ago on that very desk.
horny brain = ©simonsslut 2023 — do not steal!
simon experiencing blue balls too many times in secret bc he's stubborn.
#nadiascrolls 🍒#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#ghost x reader#simon riley#ghost mw2#ghost simon riley#ghost smut#simon ghost riley smut#simon riley smut#ghost hc#ghost call of duty#ghost cod mw2#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x you#simon riley x reader#cod smut#cod mw2#simon ghost x reader#nadiaworks
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
drabble #11
summary: you are caught red handed squinting while reading and your coworkers don't let it slide.
w.c: 682
warnings/content: no warnings just fluff and bickering between friends; annoyance towards dirty lenses (based on a personal experience); secret relationship (implied).
navi
masterpost
cm masterlist
━━━━━━━━━
“pretty girl.”
you were writing something down in a post-it note that you thought was relevant for the investigation before derek's voice came out of nowhere, startling you.
you look up at him, frowning, “why do you have to sneak up on people like that?”
“where are your glasses?” he inquired, narrowing you down with a suspicious look. his arms crossed over his chest as he had the serious stance he usually carried when he was trying to figure someone out. you straightened your back slightly, choosing to go back to your reading since you didn't have a reading speed of 20 000 words per minute and you also didn't want to answer that question.
see, here's the thing. glasses are annoying. dealing with dirty lenses is the worst part of wearing them, because as soon as you clean them up, they get absolutely filthy in the next second. also, you broke your lenses at least three times given your line of work.
so, yes, you purposely forgets them a few days a week to not deal with these issues.
maybe more than just a few days a week.
and your coworkers decided to make a comment or give you a look every time they catch you squinting up at a page.
“hey,” you glared up at derek morgan as he flickered your case file much to your annoyance. “i'm talking to you. where are your glasses? can you even see me right now?”
“shut up, derek.”
“do I need to get you a new pair to leave it here in the office?” he asked with indignation written all over his face. “that's the only way you'll wear them!”
“I don't need to wear them.” you practically hissed at him before he broadcasted the conversation into the entire bullpen. “they're reading glasses, it's not like I need to have them on all the time.”
“the strength of your glasses recently increased to 2. so you do need to wear them if you don't want it to get worst.” spencer dropped his things on his desk, butting in on the conversation as if he had been invited. you scowled, not the slightest amused. he only shrugged.
“see what I'm saying, pretty girl?” derek gave you a look. he resigned with a ruffle to your hair then walked away to make some coffee.
you let out a sigh, fixing up your strands in frustration.
“here.” you looked down at the object placed in your lap. “you forgot it at my place last night.” you blinked up at him, mouth agape.
“i-what?”
“at the bedside table?” spencer gave you a look. the faint memory of your eyeglasses case on top of his bedside table came to your mind.
which was why you couldn't recall where your glasses were at home. you had been late for work and decided to give up on the search.
but they weren't even at your place.
“I cleaned them up.” he added.
“oh. right.” you took the case from him, a coat of pink painting your cheeks. you hoped he didn't expect you were going to wear them. “thank you.”
“thankfully you didn't purposely forgot it at home, right?” spencer softly teased, poking your hip which earned a kick in his ankle.
“shut up.”
he chuckled, stealthily eyeing the bullpen that was fairly empty because it was still early in the morning. he leaned down and quickly pecked your cheek then the corner of your mouth.
“spencer!” you hissed, a warning in your tone as you looked around for any prying eyes.
grinning cheeky at you, he took a few steps back. probably to go to the kitchen to grab the coffee derek was taking too long to bring. “movie night at 8 again?” he mouthed.
with a roll of your eyes, you nod “yes.” you mouthed in return, sticking your attention back to the twenty files to be finished at your desk.
“put your glasses on!” he said out loud on purpose, now attracting attention.
you groaned, hiding your face between your hands.
idiot. an absolute idiot.
━━━━━━━━━
taglist: @lilyviolets
#spencer reid drabble#criminal minds drabble#spencer reid x gn!reader#spencer reid x reader#reader insert#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
* pairing(s) : various hsr x gender neutral reader
* prompt : drabbles abt hsr charac's and smth they like abt u?? idk im having brainrot spare me <\3.
* authors note : this was a cute idea, lowkey made me miss having a crush HAHAHA. if this does well i promy on my left toe ill do a part two (REAL).. maybe ooc, i'm just brainrotting huhu
DAN HENG was.. oddly uncomfortable but comfortable with the feeling of liking you. You two hadn't been together long, but the short amount of time had him noticing all the little quirks that you'd do, how you'd tap your pencil whenever you were stuck on a problem, the routine you had every morning and the little notes you'd leave for the trailblazers inside their rooms.
The part that made him feel a little iffy was that.. he wasn't used to being like this. He was never the type to care much about the quirks and habits of people, but considering the amount of time he spends with you (and staring at you), he can't really blame himself. He was absolutely smitten for you, so maybe those changes weren't so bad.
"You're so cute." He chuckles as he leans on his doorframe, catching you red handed as you stick the 'anonymous' sticky note on his desk. (Everyone figured it out it was you since you were the only one who wouldn't recieve one.) "Heyy, how did you catch me?" You say with a giggle, as he walked towards you and pulled you close from your waist. "The little things about you give everything away, my love."
Saying that MARCH 7TH adored you was an understatement. She absolutely LOVED being with you, all the time, everywhere. She'll be clinging onto you like a koala and if you're busy or Welt tells her to stop being so affectionate she'll pout and cross her arms. "Why can't I be with my partner?!" She'll say with an annoyed tone, "Because you have a mission, March." Welt would reply, rolling his eyes as you only chuckle in amusement.
You already knew how clingy she'd be, and infact you loved that about her, it was so sweet with how much she cared. She'll take and shoot thousands of arrows for you, to protect you and make sure you'll always be safe and happy to cuddle her before sleeping.
Speaking of which, shes in your arms, softly snoring as you two snuggle closely on her bed. You can't believe she's yours, the most pretty, bashful and caring girl in the universe. And she loved being with you the most.
BRONYA frowned as she stared at the clock in her office, 9PM. She was still forbidden to go home, and knew how lonely it must be for you. She was your lover, but could barely find time on most days to be with you. "It's okay!" She remembers you saying, but she can't help but feel guilty imagining all the times you slept alone in a shared bed.
The sound of her door creaking open caught her attention, and she watched as you peeked your head through the door and giggle. "(name)?!" She says with a shocked and confused voice, watching you open the little sling bag that you brought with you and pull out a lunchbox. "Eat. I know you haven't eaten." You demand, putting the neatly put together meal that you made for her.
Even if you had done this so many times, it still surprised Bronya every time you had these little surprise visits. "Dear.. I appreciate all of this but it'll be late if you leave now-" But a puzzled expression is plastered all over her face as she watched you make a little comfy sleeping corner with a pillow and a hood you were wearing as a blanket.
She sighs at your stubborn nature, knowing she won't change your mind. You notice her pulling up a chair and putting it next to hers, she sits down and pats her lap. "You can.. try and see if that's more comfortable." Finally, her worried gaze turned into a smile as you're eyes sparkled in delight. Before you sat down, you plant a kiss on her cheek and lay down on her lap.
"I love you, Bronya."
"I love you more, (name)."
Dating JING YUAN might be the hardest quest you've accepted, the DOZING GENERAL was on quite a handful of lists of men that parents want their daughters to marry. And hell, they've even tried throwing their daughters in his way, but he's effortlessly avoided them all. As you were the only person who had truly mattered in his heart.
He knew that his popularity can be.. suffocating. Even when he was simply courting you, he asked Tingyun to stop selling photos of him, so you'd know that he was completely serious on being a better man than he ever could be for you. But that alone can't stop the delusions of obsessed women, and Jing Yuan spent no time reassuring you that you're the only one who gets to hold his heart and say it belongs to you.
In a crowded area, his eyes never stray far from your figure that stands next to him and holds his hand. Despite the whispers, or the fawning women (and men), his eyes were locked on yours and his gaze wasn't going anywhere.
During his meetings (where he'd sometimes be dozing off..), he'd notice how you'd actually be paying attention and smiles at your adorable serious face like the most smitten man he is in the galaxy.
You can generalize it and say that Jing Yuan has made it so painfully clear to everyone that he was inlove with one person, and had no intentions of entertaning anyone else.
HERTA, despite her puppets scattered everywhere, her main body was always nervous when it came to being around you. Maybe you were used to it, always seeing her around, but she had not quite been used to human to human contact in a while. It's natural the way she tries to brush off the way she profusely blushes after your fingertips brush against her, because she's not used to spending so much time with someone as herself. She can't just pretend something isn't there anymore, because around you, she's just an absolute mess.
You watched Herta as she works on yet another puppet for the station, putting a hand on her shoulder as she jolts at the touch. "Hehe, no need to be startled. It's just me." You tell her, but she pouts a little in response. "I am an utterly perfect being. Little things such as that do not invoke fear in me."
Humming as a response, she finds it hard to find any interest in her work now. Why would she? You're right next to her, and you were far more interesting and pretty than any of the other things she's created.
She leans on you and you look down at her, "Hm? Have you lost interest in it already?" You ask, already familiar with her habit of losing motivation in a task when uninterested. She looks up at you and smiles a little. "How could I not when you're here? I might even say, you're the most interesting thing in my entire life."
GEPARD was a man who thought that loyalty was to be earned, not given freely. So when he had met you, his heart knew that no one was as deserving of his loyalty than you. You were apart of the Silvermane guards, and so naturally he was your leader. On the first day, you were very kind to not only Gepard, but your fellow guards as well. Many believed you were the kindness that the Silvermane guards deserved but never recieved, and he couldn't help but agree.
When you two began dating, he never noticed how much softer he had gotten. The way his gaze lingered on you when you left the room, the gentle kisses he'd plant on your cheek, and the way he enjoyed making you flustered. Those things were actions that the Captain didn't know he could enjoy, until you had come into his life, and practically changed the trajectory of it.
You were rambling on about something, and as usual Gepard sat next to you and listened. Smiling a bit at your excitement of whatever you were so passionate about, eventually his gaze went from your eyes, to your lips and at that realization he nervously looked away and stared at his shoes as if the most interesting thing in the world.
"Gepard? Are you alright?" You noticed how he he had looked away, and he was silent for a few moments before swiftly planting a kiss on your lips, something unexpected considering you were both in a public space. When he pulled away, a clear blush decorated his cheeks in such a color that made him look so pretty. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself."
SAMPO adores messing with you, little teases to get you riled up. (but never taking it too far.) How could he not? When you have such a pretty expression when you were getting teased. But other than that, he was surprisingly domestic. He liked cooking for and with you, washing clothes, eating together in the morning and generally just liked doing house work with you.
You'd wake up to breakfast in bed more often than not, and a smiling Sampo waiting for you to wake up in the side opposite to you. "Good morning, sleepy head." or "Good morning, sleeping beauty." on other days, he was such a sweet man to you, to a point you were unsure of what you did to deserve him.
And he knew you thought of that, so every night he'd whisper all the little things he grew to love about you. His own little way to let you sleep without a heavy heart.
You were the child of a swordsmith, YANQING adored swords. Need I say more? You two loved to go on and on about different swords, how they're made, how they're used and the history. Yanqing loved to talk about this with you, as many people thought he was almost crazy for his love for it, but you never judged him. That little thought alone made his heart flutter and eyes sparkle in adoration.
You let him be the little excited nerd he was whenever you invited him to your job, admiring the photos of different swords you helped make on the walls and if he was good, you'd make him a new one to take home.
"I love you! I love you, I love you, I love you!" He'd gush, admiring the newly forged blade in his hands as you chuckle a bit at his excitement. "Your welcome, love."
#✹ ִֶָ ꐑꐑ entos paw prints#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#honkai star rail#yanqing x reader#yanqing hsr x reader#jing yuan x reader#gepard landau x reader#gepard x reader#march 7th x reader#dan heng x reaxer#sampo koski x reader#herta x reader
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
Because of Her
Small Clarisse drabble I made while watching Are Your Afraid of the Dark? season 3 cause I'll watch anything if Diors in it. It's not that great but I have a fic coming that's slightly similar to this but more frenimies to lovers if that makes sense.
Pair: Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demeter!Reader
Clarisse La Rue had a reputation to uphold. She never lost a fight. She was never soft, never kind. Always ruthless, cold, and calculating. She was a daughter of Ares if nothing else, that was for certain.
But that all came crashing down the day she met you. The moment her eyes met yours, she knew she was fucked. Your sweet, caring gaze had her locked in. In an instance she was wrapped around your finger.
She would never admit it, but everyone knew she was whipped. Except you, the one person that mattered.
Over the last four years of you being at camp, you two had become extremely close. The fact that you hadn't realized how infatuated your best friend was with you, baffled everyone you knew. You saw the way she stared at you, but that was normal for best friends, right?
She fell more and more in love with you every day. That's what brought her to the strawberry fields. You were knelt next to one of the bushes, picking the ripe berries and tossing them into your basket. Her footsteps broke you out of your trance as she crouched next to you.
"What'cha doin', pretty girl?" A smirk graces her lips as she looks at you.
"Pickin' strawberries. Where've you been, Clar?" You giggle as you look up from the bush. She swears it's the most melodic thing she's ever heard.
"Training a couple of the new kids, you know how long it can take. How about, I make it up to you? How does that sound?"
"Really? How?"
She doesn't answer, she just grabs your hand and pulls you up to your feet, dragging you away from the fields and into the woods. You laugh as you're led through the trees. After a while she slows, walking side by side with you. Her hand never left yours, pulling you closer to her.
"Where are we going?" You ask, smiling up at her.
"You'll see, we're almost there."
Soon, you came upon a clearing in the woods. There was a blanket laid out with a basket on it, surrounded by flowers.
"It's the anniversary of the day you arrived at camp. I figured we should celebrate." She whispers in your ear, coming behind you with a hand resting on your arm.
"Clar!" You turn to face her, wrapping your arms around her neck. "Thank you!" Her arms come around your waist, pulling you into her. She lifts you up off your feet, carrying you over to the blanket.
“Of course, pretty girl.” Your placed back onto your feet, sitting with her on the ground.
“This had to take you ages!” You marvel as everything she’s brought, lemonade, all of your favorite fruit, minis your favorite kinds of sandwiches.
“It was worth it for you.” Your eyes meet, her hand comes to your cheek, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s all worth it for you.”
The breath is knocked from your lungs as you stare at her. Looking in her eyes feels like swimming in pools of honey, getting lost in the sweetness she only presents to you. The care only you are worthy of. Suddenly her lips are on yours, it takes you a minute to realize and by the time you do she’s pulled back.
“I- I’m sorry..fuck, I don’t know-” She’s cut off by your lips against hers. It’s passionate and soft, yet hot and fiery. The perfect combination of both of you. Her hands land on your cheeks and pull you furth into her. You could get lost in the way her lips feel, the taste of her cherry chapstick on your tongue.
“Clar..” You’re both breathing heavily when you pull away.
“I should’ve done that way sooner.” She admits. You nod in agreement.
“Why didn’t you?”
“I didn’t think you liked me like that. Thought you’d hit me and run away.”
“I could never run from you. Even if I wanted to, I think I’m pretty stuck with you.” You smile, your hand moving up to her neck.
“Yeah, you are.” She smiles back, kissing your cheek
“Well, we better not let this food go to waste..” You laugh softly, pulling back. She rests on her hands.” Yeah, this took me hours, you better eat it.”
Another laugh escapes your throat as you pop a piece of fruit in your mouth. “I thought you said I was worth it. Here I was thinking I was special.” Her foot nudges yours. “
“You know you are.”
The food is divine, and you have more fun than you have in a very long time. The flowers around you seem to bloom more, color saturating more, reflecting on your mood. The breeze is warmer. The trees sprout more leaves. And it’s all because of her.
#percy jackon and the olympians#dior goodjohn#x reader#clarisse la rue x reader#clarisse la rue#percy jackson#clarisse pjo#percy jackson disney+#percy series#demeter#best friends to lovers#pjo series#pjo tv show
673 notes
·
View notes
Text
one of your girls (jungkook x reader) (part 1)
we don't gotta be in love, no
i don't wanna be the one, no
i just wanna be one of your girls tonight
~
i wanna take your light inside
dim me down, snuff me out
~
give me tough love
leave me with nothin' when i come down
pairing: fwb!jk x oc, brief jimin x oc
tags: smut, angst, a little bit of fluff (like teeny tiny)
warnings: two smut scenes, kissing, marking (hickeys), fingering, brief handjob, protected sex, slight dom!jk, sub!oc, praise, dirty talk, grinding, edging, oral (f. & m. receiving), throat fucking, dacryphilia, spit kink, brief masturbation (m.), squirting, brief anal play, back shots, cum shot, multiple orgasms (you'll see), aftercare
word count: 5.8k
a/n: been in my feels lately i had to write it out lol; wrote this in one sitting my hands actually hurt omg; inspired by the song "one of your girls" (ik don't roast me idk why it's stuck in my head fml); if this gets taken down then bye bye i literally just wrote it here directly lmaooooo; anw enjoy !!!! part 2 / drabble i (flashback)
..••°°°°••..°°••....••°°..••°°°°••..
You knew what you were getting yourself into the night you said yes to Jungkook. You knew you'd fall for him, be under his spell. You knew you'd end up getting hurt. You prepared yourself, you really did, yet you were still surprised when you woke up each morning and he wasn't beside you in bed. You felt your heart break a little bit more when you saw him with another girl, whether she'd be one of your friends or a complete stranger to you.
You tried to guard your heart. Reminded yourself to prepare for the worst. Forced yourself not to fall, not to be blindsided. I'm just having a little fun, you told yourself for the nth time.
jk: u busy tonight?
you: not really! just writing a paper that's due next week
That was sent hours ago and you mentally cringe at your reply. You always find yourself oversharing to Jungkook when you didn't even need to. You wanted to make it seem like your whole situationship was just casual. Like you didn't care. He rarely shared much about his personal life and so should you. But that hardly happened. You didn't want him to think that you cared, that you were clingy or waiting for him to text. You didn't even wait five minutes before replying and he hasn't even texted back.
You know what his text means. He wants to fuck and that's it. But he doesn't say it outright. No, never. He wants to make it seem like he cares, that he wants to know how your night is going. But he just wants to know if you're free to fuck and once you reply, he'll keep that as a reminder in the back of his mind, like he has a mental list of girls he can sort through at the end of the night when he's bored or when he wants to have a little bit of fun.
You know you're just one of his girls on his roster and you're fine with that. You're not his girlfriend and he's not your boyfriend. Though it does seem like that on some days, which is when you get the courage to not reply to his texts. When you try to shut him out and move on. He usually shows up outside your lecture hall with a cup of coffee in hand, bunny smile on his face as he waits for you to walk into the hallway. Like he's waiting for you, picking you up from class like a good and loving boyfriend.
It's all for show and it's only to get himself on your good side again. It works every time. You don't question yourself anymore. Jungkook likes the chase, likes the adrenaline of going after girls and trying to get them to fall for him, or sleep with him, or whatever. It's all the same to him.
You sigh again as you check your phone, hoping for a reply but knowing he won't text back. It's a Friday night and he's probably at some party. You go through your texts and open the conversation with your best friend.
jihyo: see u later! im picking u up so u better be ready >:(
You can't help but laugh at her insistence. Jihyo knows what you're going through since you tell her everything. You tell her you don't care though, that you're not looking for a relationship right now and your "thing" with Jungkook is just casual. But you know she sees right through your lies. It's even more obvious when you ghost all your friends and lock yourself in your apartment every night. She's trying to make you forget and move on and have some actual fun so you indulge her every time.
You get ready in less than an hour and actually put some effort into your appearance. You're not sure which party you're going to but you won't be surprised if Jungkook will be there as well. Maybe if you look hot enough he'll choose you tonight.
You hear a knock on your door and open it immediately, finding Jihyo laughing at something her boyfriend has just said. Most of the time you end up hanging out with her and Mingyu because she's always dragging you with her to keep you from being lonely. You don't mind it though because they're fun people to be with. Even though Mingyu is Jungkook's roommate and best friend. But Mingyu isn't anything like Jungkook. He looks at Jihyo like she's hung up the stars and moon. Loves her with all his heart and doesn't leave her second guessing. You always wonder why him and Jungkook are friends when they're so different.
Jihyo turns to smile at you, but it's still the lovestruck smile she gave Mingyu just seconds ago. You know you have the same kind of smile reserved for Jungkook. You wish you didn't but at the same time you're glad you do, like you have a part of yourself only Jungkook can see. Even though he doesn't do the same.
"You look so hot tonight!" she squeals as she pulls you in a hug. You laugh and roll your eyes, making eye contact with Mingyu as he nods his head in greeting. Jihyo steps back and grabs your hand, dragging you out your apartment so fast you barely have time to lock the door behind you. "Let's go before all the good drinks are gone."
It's a short but fun walk to the house where the party is being held. You find yourself laughing with Jihyo and Mingyu the whole time. They're the type of couple that doesn't make third wheeling a bore.
Loud music blares in your ears the moment you step inside. You feel your heels sticking to the floor. A typical frat house throwing a typical Friday night party. You immediately take shots with Jihyo and Mingyu. You need it to be able to survive the night since you already feel yourself tensing up at the possibility of Jungkook being in the same place as you.
You spot your other friends and hangout with them for the rest of the night. It's when you're playing beer pong with Jimin as your partner do you see Jungkook at the other side of the room. He's talking to some girl which is nothing new. It shouldn't phase you but it does. You thought you were going to be his pick for the night since he texted you a while ago.
You feel your heart fall at the sight of them, your chest physically hurting that you make Jimin throw the ball twice for the both of you since you can't focus. You feel all the fun and happiness slowly leave your body. You feel your stomach churn at the way he's got her trapped against the wall, tattooed arm placed beside her head, mouth whispering right against her ear. She's smiling and giggling at whatever Jungkook is telling her. You wish that were you.
"Forget about him," Jimin mutters in your ear. He's watching your beer pong opponents take their turn as you're watching Jungkook and the girl.
You shake your head at Jimin, turning your head to smile at him just to make it seem like you're okay. Just like Jihyo, he sees right through you.
Jimin's another close friend of Jungkook. They're not so different. Jimin likes to sleep around but he makes it clear that he doesn't want anything serious. Always nice and gentle with the girls he sleeps with. Jungkook makes it seem like you're his and only his. You wonder again why they're friends.
"Seriously, Y/N," Jimin says, a little bit of urgency in his tone. It's probably the look of longing on your face that raises concern in your friend. Everyone sees how broken you look when you catch Jungkook with another girl.
"I know," you say after a while. You talk just a little bit loud enough to be heard over the music. "Jungkook and I just sleep with each other. It's casual and that's it."
You hear Jimin sigh. He nods his head and it's his turn to throw the dirty ping pong ball. You've had this conversation with him and Jihyo numerous times already, sometimes it's the both of them and sometimes it's on separate occasions. You say the same thing every time. You think your friends are starting to give up on you. Maybe you should as well.
You force yourself to have fun for the rest of the night, always trying to be in a room where Jungkook isn't. You're not sure if he's spotted you. You don't know which hurts more—him not spotting you because he doesn't even bother looking for you in the crowd, or him spotting you but not talking to you because you're not his choice for the night. Either way, he doesn't care. You know he doesn't but you wish you did. You thought you'd catch his attention with the black dress you're wearing. Or with the way your hair is styled. But it doesn't work and you tell yourself that it's okay. You always see him in your peripheral though, either talking to someone or flirting with that girl.
You decide to leave when you see Jungkook leaving as well, fingers tangled with the girl's. She looks like a giggling mess and you can't blame her. Everyone falls for Jungkook's charms. You try not to dwell on the fact that they're going to have sex.
It's Jimin who walks you home. He can tell you're sad so he talks about his day and his classes, avoiding Jungkook's name even though you're positive that they hung out today. Jungkook's intertwined in so many people's lives it's hard to leave him out. But Jimin makes an effort just to distract you. You're grateful for it though and he keeps up the act all the way to your apartment. He asks if he can use your bathroom and you say yes, mindlessly changing into your pajamas once the bathroom door closes behind you. You thought you'd have a little bit more time to finish changing but you suddenly hear Jimin swear behind you. You live in a little studio apartment so there's not much room to hide.
"Oh fuck— Shit," he says. You turn around laughing to see him with his hand over his eyes. "Sorry," he mumbles.
You're in your underwear but you don't mind. "It's not like you haven't seen me like this before," you chuckle.
"Still," he reasons.
Because you're stupid and heartbroken and hurt, you walk up to Jimin and gently grab his wrist, bringing his arm down to his side. You look at him looking at anywhere else but you. Eventually he looks down at your body for a split second and you laugh at him.
"We shouldn't," he whispers.
You shrug your shoulders. "Just a little bit of fun, right?" you ask with a smile on your face. "Like old times?" you giggle.
Jimin lets out a scoff but it's more of a laugh. Like he can't believe you're both doing this again. "You sure you're not drunk?" he asks as he makes eye contact with you. Bingo. You got him.
"Nope," you say sweetly.
"But Jungkook?"
You roll your eyes to mask the hurt. "Don't care."
Jimin looks at you intently to make sure you're not bluffing. While you wait for his answer you unclasp your bra and let it fall down your shoulders, exposing yourself to him. His eyes widen at the sight.
"Okay," he breathes out. He suddenly holds you by the waist to place you on the kitchen counter. It has you giggling at him.
"Eager?" you ask when he starts kissing your neck. You feel him drag his teeth across your skin, like he's thinking if he should mark you up or not. You stretch your neck out even more and feel him biting at your skin, sure to leave a bruise.
"Just excited," he mumbles against your neck. You feel him smile.
You unzip his pants while he's busy sucking your nipples. He's hard already when you start pumping your hand up and down his cock.
"Feels good, baby," he moans in your ear. You're still wearing your underwear but Jimin doesn't mind, just pushes it to the side to insert two of his fingers inside your pussy.
"Oh," you choke out. He finds your spot right away and rubs his fingers against it. He doesn't make you come, just fingers you to make sure you're prepped. It's quick when he takes his fingers out and grabs the condom in the back pocket of his jeans. You watch him tear the packet open and roll the condom down his length.
You both don't say anything else as he pushes his cock past your tight walls. Doesn't give you a moment before he starts pounding, his skin slapping against yours.
It's always like this with Jimin—just quick and easy and no feelings attached. You both don't do it much, it happens at the most random times. Usually when you want to forget or when he's stressed from school. And after this you're both back to being friends. It's never awkward. You wish it were like this with Jungkook instead.
"Jimin," you moan when he starts rubbing your clit. "Gonna come."
"Go ahead, baby," he breathes out, placing a soft kiss on your cheek and leaving his lips there. You push yourself to release and Jimin follows right after. You're both breathing heavily when he pulls out, taking off the condom and throwing it in the bin. He zips up his pants and starts looking for something on your bed. You're still trying to catch your breath when you feel a shirt being put over your head. Jimin's sweet like this—does aftercare in the most platonic way possible.
"There," he says after helping you wear the shirt he found. He doesn't know it belongs to Jungkook. You don't think he minds if he does though.
"Thank you," you say quietly and give him a small smile.
"Anytime. I'll see you around, okay?" He kisses your forehead and you watch him leave your apartment.
The silence engulfs you and you think you should feel disgusted with yourself—that you're pining over a guy but you just had sex with another. With his close friend out of all people. But you push the thought to the back of your mind as you jump down from the kitchen counter and walk into your bathroom. You're just like Jungkook, you tell yourself. Just casually sleeping around and nothing else. He doesn't care and you don't either. You feel a teeny bit better.
You take a warm shower to wash all the remnants from tonight. You actually take your time just to clear your jumbled up mind. It's almost 30 minutes later when you step out and check your phone while you're drying off, heartbeat stopping at a text you've received almost an hour ago.
jk: u up?
jk: hey reply to me :(
jk: coming over
Your eyes widen at the last text. It was sent just 10 minutes ago. You don't know where he's coming from but the campus isn't that big so he'll probably be here soon. You quickly finish drying off and change into comfortable clothes. You hear a knock on the door the moment you finish changing. You take a deep breath before walking to the door and opening it.
You notice Jungkook's wearing the same clothes from the party but his shirt is a bit wrinkled. You think he just came from the girl's place. Probably fucked her and is here now because he's not satisfied. You should feel disgusted and mad but you're not. You're no better. You just slept with his friend.
"Hi," you mutter.
He smiles at you and leans in to kiss you on the lips. "Hey, sweetheart." It has you swooning.
You step to the side to let him in and he walks straight to your bed, sitting down to take off his shoes before lying down comfortably. You follow him and sit down on your bed right by his waist. He stretches out his arm to drape it over your thighs and you start tracing his tattoos absentmindedly. This is your usual routine.
"Did you stay in all night?" he asks. Just a little bit of conversation before he does what he's really here for. At least he has a little bit of decency. You don't mind though, it makes you think that he cares about you when he asks things like this.
You shake your head and smile at him. "Nah, Jihyo and Mingyu dragged me to that frat party." You can tell he's trying to hide his surprise.
"Oh, I didn't see you there," he mumbles.
"It's okay." You shrug. "There were a lot of people."
"We could've played beer pong together, I know you like doing that every time you're out."
Your heart clenches at his remark. You're surprised and hurt every time he remembers little things about you. "I was with Jimin, don't worry." Jungkook doesn't know the double meaning to it.
He nods and runs his fingers across your thighs. "Missed you. Sorry I didn't reply to your text earlier, got caught up in something." You know that's a lie. "Just got back from the party too, that's why I came here late." Another lie.
You nod and smile as if you believe him. And you force yourself to because it's easier than knowing the truth. It's silent for a moment before he mumbles c'mere and brings you on top of his lap.
"Missed this," he says quietly as he squeezes your thighs. His hands trail up your waist till he's squeezing your tits beneath the shirt you're wearing. You start grinding on his cock, getting out of breath too quickly. You missed this too. It's been a week since you last had sex with Jungkook which is a long time for the both of you.
"Kook," you pant. He's pinching your nipples knowing that's where you're most sensitive.
"I know, sweetheart. Take your shirt off for me, hm?"
You nod your head dumbly and do as you're told, watching Jungkook stare at your body. He stops moving beneath you and you're about to ask what's wrong when he brings his hand up to touch the hickey on your neck that Jimin left.
"Who's this from?" he asks. You can't tell if he's mad or just curious. Jungkook isn't showing any emotions on his face and you're starting to get nervous.
"Just..." You think if you should tell him the truth. You look into his eyes and try to see if there's any semblance of care. You don't know. You really can't tell. Then your eyes trails down his body, to his neck and the wrinkly white shirt he's wearing. There's a red stain on the collar and you know it's lipstick. From the girl he slept with earlier. "Someone," you finally mumble.
"Someone?" He continues rubbing the spot gently until he presses down on it with his thumb. He doesn't press down too hard, but it's with enough force to have you hissing slightly.
"It's from Jimin," you finally say. He doesn't say anything but raise an eyebrow at your reply. You don't know if he already knows that you and Jimin have slept together. He doesn't look so surprised, or maybe he is and he's just really good at schooling his expressions.
He makes eye contact with you again and you feel his hand going to the back of your head, grabbing a handful of your hair to press your lips against his. The kiss feels urgent and rushed, his tongue instantly slipping in your mouth and tangling with yours. You're on top of him yet you feel defenseless as he holds you by your hair and kisses you hard. You let Jungkook do as he pleases and forget about the little conversation you just had. You start grinding on his cock again and he reciprocates this time, hips moving against yours.
Before you know it, he rolls you over and pins your arms above your head. You stare at him with wide eyes and he smirks at you in return. He holds your wrists with one hand and takes off your shorts and underwear with the other. He's fully dressed while you're not and you know you're at his mercy. He knows this too as he spreads your thighs apart with his hand.
"Keep your hands there," he whispers. You hold your bed frame for good measure. You just want to please him. He trails kisses down your body, from your neck to your nipples to your tummy. He stops by your thighs and you feel his breath against your skin. You squirm beneath Jungkook to get him to do something, to touch you and pleasure you. He shakes his head, still with that damn smirk on his face. He starts kissing your thighs, close to your pussy just to tease you.
"Didn't know you and Jimin have a thing going on," he says against your skin. You shiver at the vibrations his voice provides.
You feel Jungkook bite down on your inner thighs. "We don't," you choke out. He scoffs and starts kissing your pussy. Just light kisses that start making you crazy because you just want his mouth on you. "We're just friends," you say weakly.
He looks up from where he's laying between your legs. "Like us?"
Us.
You know what he means but at the same time you don't. You're friends with Jimin like you're friends with Jungkook. But you don't long for Jimin like you do for Jungkook. You don't yearn for Jimin the same way, don't look for him in every place you're at, don't pine for his affection or his touches. Jimin isn't like Jungkook and you both know that. You just don't know if you're different from the other girls Jungkook fucks.
"No," you say truthfully. It's said with defeat and desperation because you know he's not going to touch you till you answer him. "Not like us."
You know Jungkook won't pry anymore because he finally starts licking your pussy, starting with your outer lips until his tongue is inside your hole licking every crevice. Then he starts sucking your clit and that's when you truly lose it, legs going around his head to keep him against your cunt.
"Fuck," you almost scream. You're so close already that you should feel embarrassed but you're not. Jungkook knows your body too well. No one holds a candle to how good he eats you out. "Please," you whimper.
"Please what, sweetheart?"
"Please make me come!" you beg. "Need it, need it so much." You starting grinding your hips against his mouth.
"You're so desperate," he chuckles. It's said meanly but the comment flies over your head. You don't care anymore; you just want some sort of release. "But not yet."
You suddenly feel cold because Jungkook removes his mouth from you, standing up and getting out of the bed to remove his clothing. You continue holding the bed frame above you because you want to be good for him. You watch him strip his clothes off till he's naked just like you, tattooed hand wrapping around his cock.
It's long and thick and it splits you open every time he fucks you. You really don't know how you manage to take him every time.
Jungkook is so mean and unfair with the way he's teasing you right now, pleasuring himself while you lay on the bed. You're about to open your mouth to complain when he finally nods his head, motioning you to get up. "Kneel. Hands behind your back, okay?"
You nod your head and get in position on the bed, head tilting up to look at his cock. It's so hard and the tip is already leaking. You just want your mouth around him.
"Open," he says.
You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, just the way Jungkook likes. As expected, he spits directly into your mouth and you swallow right away.
"Good girl. Now suck."
He brings his cock to your lips and you immediately start sucking. You push your length all the way in till you feel him at the back of your throat.
"Gotta take all of me in, pretty. Or else I won't fuck your little pussy."
You know Jungkook takes his threats seriously so you back up a little to catch your breath before taking him in your mouth again. God, he's so big and thick your jaw is already starting to feel sore. But you power through and keep taking him in your mouth until your nose touches his tummy. You try not to gag around him but it's no use. You also feels your eyes tearing up.
Jungkook doesn't care you're struggling. In fact, he loves it because he's got that stupidly handsome smile on his face. He strokes your cheeks for a while and you try to even out your breathing.
"I wanna fuck your throat, sweetheart. Can you take it?" he asks sweetly.
You know it's a rhetorical question but you nod anyways, as much as you could with a dick down your throat.
"Let me in then."
You close your eyes and relax your throat even more. Jungkook holds your head then and pushes you towards him even deeper. You're helpless since your hands are behind your back. You gag again and start feeling lightheaded.
"There we go," he finally says once his whole length is in your mouth. You feel the tip down your throat. You're struggling so much but you try not to move. You just want to please him. "Gonna move now," he mumbles and starts moving his hips. You let him fuck your throat for God knows how long. You're full on crying when he stops and withdraws his length halfway out your mouth. You take the time to gasp for air and you even cough a little, head bowing down to regain your breathing. You faintly hear Jungkook laugh above you.
"I'm not yet done, love. Was just feeling nice enough to give you a little breather."
You nod your head and look up at him, mouth opening wide to let him know you're ready again.
"You just let me do whatever I want, huh?" he chuckles. You're not sure if he means something else but to you it does. You willingly let Jungkook do anything to you. Even if it results in heartbreak.
He stares at you for a while and spreads the spit and precum that's on your lips. "So messy." Then he's back to inserting his length inside your mouth. The glide is smoother this time since you're already prepped. "There we go," he groans out. He stays still and feels the imprint of his dick on your throat. "Look so pretty for me."
Jungkook starts moving again but thankfully his pace is slow this time. You're sure you'll have a sore throat by tomorrow.
"Keep your eyes open, okay? Wanna see you cry."
You look at him while he's fucking your mouth, looking at the way his cock moves in your throat. You're starting to lose your breath and you think Jungkook could tell as well because he grants you reprieve and steps back. You're coughing more this time, hands catching yourself in front of you. You barely get enough time to regain your breathing before you feel Jungkook grabbing your head and bringing your lips to his.
"Did so good for me," he says against your mouth.
You're trembling in his hold and you grab his arms to steady yourself. "Fuck me please," you try to say but your voice comes out hoarse and ragged.
He kisses your cheek and then your jaw. "I will, don't worry," he coos. "Always gonna give you what you want." Another lie. You know that's not true.
You're putty in his hands as he maneuvers you to the position he wants to fuck you in, which is on your hands and knees with your ass high in the air.
"Just like that," he whispers. He pushes down on your shoulders even more so that you're wide and open for him. He starts rubbing your pussy and you can't help but moan out loud. "You're so wet, sweetheart. All from sucking my cock?"
You nod wordlessly from your position on the bed. "Jungkook!" you scream as he plunges two fingers in your pussy. He's ruthless as he fucks his fingers fast and hard, hitting your g-spot right away. "Please," you cry out. You're so wound up and tense and you just want to come already but he won't let you.
You hear Jungkook chuckle from behind you. "Still so tight, baby. Thought Jimin stretched you out already." You're about to reply but you feel his thumb press against your rim and your senses go haywire, mind going blank because you're so overwhelmed.
"Please, please," you beg quietly. You're crying again and you'd do anything at this point to get Jungkook to fuck you. He withdraws his fingers from your holes and you hear the crinkling of plastic behind you. You turn your head slightly to see him slipping a condom on. Jungkook has never fucked you raw and you never asked why because you already know the answer. You'll get hurt hearing the truth anyway.
He holds your hips to steady you. He rubs the head of his cock up and down your folds. "You want this?" he asks roughly.
"Yes. Please."
Finally, finally, Jungkook pushes his cock in your pussy. It doesn't take long because you're so wet he slides right in to the hilt.
"You feel so good around me." He stills for a moment and you grab your ass to spread your cheeks even more.
"Please move, Kook."
You hear him groan. "God, baby, you're filthy." He starts fucking into you and your mind goes blank. You feel his thick cock slide in and out, the tip already kissing your cervix.
"Feels so good," you mumble incoherently. Jungkook fucks you quick and hard, holding your hips so tightly you know it's going to bruise. You feel his balls slap against your clit which adds even more pleasure. You feel yourself getting close again and arch your back.
"Can I please come?" you ask through your moans. "Please let me come, Jungkook. Please—"
"Come," he finally says. It's the only word you need to hear before you let go, that coil in you snapping and bringing pleasure all over your body. You don't know you're moaning so loudly you're almost screaming. You feel your pussy just gush and it gets so wet and sticky you're surprised Jungkook doesn't slip out. It's so filthy that you hear squelching noises as well. Your orgasm goes on for so long you don't know how you're still holding yourself up.
"You creamed my cock so much, baby," Jungkook says. He slows down his pace but he's still moving so you can ride out your high. "Got me wet and even your sheets."
You barely hear him and there's just a buzzing sound around your head. Your body feels so heavy and you just want to collapse but you arch your back even more for Jungkook.
He laughs. "Think I fucked you stupid." He increases his pace again and you just kneel there and take it. "Gonna make me fucking come," he growls as his hips snap against yours. "Fuck." He fucks you some more and you groan every time he hits your g-spot.
Suddenly, he pulls out so fast. "Don't move," he groans. You stay in place and watch him remove the condom off, hand going to stroke his cock as he brings himself to his release. You feel his come on you, right on your pussy and asshole. "Fuck, baby," he groans. You feel even stickier with his load on you. Then he bends down to kiss your neck, and then your cheek, and then a gentle one on your lips.
"You okay?" he asks quietly. His arm goes to wrap around your waist and you slowly start sinking onto the bed.
"Mhm," you mumble and try to keep your emotions at bay. You always feel so overwhelmed after sex with Jungkook. You let a few tears fall down your cheeks but it's the kind of tears of relief from an intense orgasm.
Jungkook presses his front against your back, not caring that his come is still on you. He starts kissing your face again then rubs his nose up and down your throat. "Just breathe, yeah?" he says quietly. You nod weakly against his hold and do just that. The both of you say nothing as you try to calm your racing heart.
You don't know how many minutes pass by until Jungkook stands up. You don't have the strength in you to move your position on the bed or ask where he's going. A few minutes later you feel a wet rag on your back. You let Jungkook clean you up while the both of you still don't say a thing. Then he's moving you on the bed again so your head is on the pillows and he's right behind you, lying down comfortably to be the big spoon. You feel him kissing your head.
"Sleep," he mumbles against your hair. With Jungkook holding you and with his steady breaths guiding yours, you fall asleep right away.
..••°°°°••..°°••....••°°..••°°°°••..
You don't know what time it is when you wake up but there's still sunlight peeking through your curtains so you suppose it's still morning. You turn to face the other side of the bed only to find it empty. You don't know what time Jungkook left, if he stayed the night or left the moment you fell asleep. You're used to it already but it doesn't mean you're not hurt. Your heart constricts at the empty space beside you. You move again to lay on your back and cover your face with yours hands, letting out shaky breaths while trying not to breakdown. God, maybe Jimin was right. Just forget about him.
But it's hard not to. It's hard to forget about him when you have sex constantly, when his touches are gentle but also rough. When he wants you to reply to his messages and when he wants you against his body. It's hard because he's friends with your friends. It's hard when he takes care of you after every intense orgasm. It's hard when he makes it seem like he wants you just as much as you want him.
#jungkook#jeon jungkook#jungkook one shot#bts one shot#jjk one shot#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook x oc#fuckboy!jk#fwb!jk#jungkook smut#jungkook angst#mine#sab writes#jk#fwb!jungkook#fuckboy!jungkook
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
More Simon X Single mom!Reader💕🌙
Based on this drabble😚
wc: 1.1k
You're so, painfully reluctant to ask Simon for help. He offers, frequently, to help you get bedded in to your small flat, which only now, finally free from the clutches of your desperation, do you understand why it was so cheap. The first time he comes over for dinner he notes the way your kitchen faucet takes ages to put out hot water, and honestly, it took a fair bit of blindly tapping (smacking) random pipes to get any water at all. He seems to take issue with not only the lack of amenities that could help you get settled, but also the fact that the few basics that you do have access to don't work.
You're a single mom, with a three year old daughter, and his sense of justice has always been at war with his longing search for peace and isolation.
Simon doesn't have much to do when he's not deployed, Price putting him on some kind of mandatory break after the last mission went south, as did his mental health. Because of said lack of hobbies, work and education, Simon finds himself doing literally whatever he can think of to occupy his mind, to forget about what happened in October - if that means helping you string a wreath on the front of your apartment door and lugging a christmas tree up the stairs for you, that's what he'll do.
You'll be the first to admit that you're cash poor - buying this house ate up the majority of your savings, and the rest you're currently blowing through supporting your daughter whilst also trying to get a job, very contradictory to the fact that you're also trying to lay low.
The man that lives next door to you is no fool, not as blind and imperceptive as you wish he'd be. You see the way his eyes occaionally shoot to the fading tan line on your left ring finger and the small, raised scar on your bicep. Occasionally, he himself wishes that he wouldn't see the bags under your eyes or the way you clutch onto your daughter like she'll be ripped away from you - maybe then he wouldn't feel such a sense of duty to you. Maybe he wouldn't lie awake at night thinking of the fact that he's spent his life plagued by gunfire to protect innocent women and children, and now faced with the people he vowed to lay down his life for, all he can do is offer to fix your blocked hot water pipe.
So, when you stand on his doorstep, sniffling down fat tears threatening to spill, apologising profusley when you look up to see his confused expression, he can't help but to engulf you, and your wailing daughter at your hip, into what he can only hope is a comforting embrace.
"Y' a'right? Whats goin' on?" He murmurs, a hint of panic in his voice. Simon knows the feeling of your past coming back to haunt you all too well.
"I'm sorry I just - the oven is broken, and I need to make her dinner and bath her and put her down to bed -" Is all you can manage before you're hiccuping into the hand not supporting your equally as distraught baby girl.
For a second he just stops, his brain short circuits as he struggles to comprehend the fact that you're coming to him for help. He can't understand the way you lay your soul bare before him, not when he's so distant, so intimidating, and you're oh so soft, lovely as a morning songbird and as warm as sun soaked sand.
"Would you mind looking at it?" Even you recognise how pathetic you sound, standing here practically grovelling at your neighbours door, but apparently it works when he's guiding you back to the front door you stupidly left open in your panic, pulling out a kitchen chair and easing you down as you sit between utter misery and the panic which filled your lungs like a puncture in a life raft when one little part of your routine you'd become so reliant on fell out of place.
"Gas's out." He tells you softly, like any more bad news might make you shatter completely, and the thought of delivering that blow makes him feel physically sick.
"Right - Right, no gas." You murmur, brain whirring at a million miles a second in order to work out what to do next.
"You could use my oven? I'll call the gas company in the morning and have them install a new bottle."
His words make you stop, processing his offer, his generosity, the generosity of a man who's never once been cruel or rough or mean to you, and you give a little grateful nod, cooing to your daughter about how you're going on an adventure to Simon's place. The way he scoops her up so that you can stuff a bag with all of the things you need to make dinner, bouncing her on his hip to stop her wailing makes your insides warm in an unfamiliar way, one that you promptly shake off as you follow him across the threshold of his undecorated apartment, trying not to stare at your surroundings as you're guided to a kitchen that you're sure is far more functional than your own.
The way Simon doesn't have any cartoon channels on his TV, so he grabs his laptop instead, plopping your daughter down on the couch with a blanket around her shoulders and some kind of kids show playing on the screen makes you ache, and you can't imagine how a man with no kids of his own could be so good with yours. There's a softness to him despite his physical body being comprised of muscle and sinew and scars, his soul is gentle. He's gentle with you, and he's gentle with your daughter, and that's all that you can ask for.
You make enough dinner for the three of you, mostly to thank Simon for his hospitality, but also because you're starving and the meat needs eating. When you ask where the cutlery is, he gives a little chuckle, grabbing out two sets for you and him, as well as your daughter's little blue Peter Rabbit spoon and tray. He helps you dish up dinner, and when you go to sit at the table, he steers you into the lounge.
"You're not worried about food on the couch?" You squeak in utter confusion, to which he gives a laugh and plops down on one end, placing your daughters tray before her where she sits in the middle of the two of you, happily scarfing down her dinner and watching whatever Simon could find on such short notice.
When you inevitably fall asleep on his couch, your daughter doing the same, Simon sets a blanket over the two of you before going into the kitchen to call the gas company, putting down his card details to pay for the new bottle. He's happy to cough up fifty quid that he's sure you don't have if it means not seeing his girls cry again.
#cod mwii#cod mw2#tf 141#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#Simon ghost Riley x f!reader#Simon ghost Riley x yn#Simon Riley x reader#simon riley x f!reader#Simon Riley x yn#Simon riley#ghost x reader#ghost x f!reader#ghost x y/n#ghost simon riley#ghost mw2#simon riley x you#ghost cod#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x y/n#simon riley cod#ghost call of duty#cod ghost#cod#cod simon riley#ghost#ghost riley#call of duty#celestialwhoree#Single mom!reader x Simon Riley
497 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Things I Never Said: Part 3
Pairings: Simon 'Ghost' Riley
Summary: You're required for one last mission.
Word Count: 2.5k
Tw: aaaaaangst, hurt with a lot of comfort. injuries, mentions of blood, kissing and slightly suggestive but nothing too explicit. price has to make a hard choice:(poor grammar, bad english ofc💅🏻 foreshadowing to my price fic 'salvation' if you squint.
A/N: i'm not gonna lie, when i wrote the first part of this fic i was bored and never in a million years did it cross my mind y'all would like it this much. sorry if this isn't as good, this is the final part of it, although i plan to write little drabbles every now and then. this was such a nice ride 🩷✨ thx for the support; remember english isn't my first language, corrections are welcome 🤍🐸
Masterlist✨ Part 2
Desk rotation wasn't fun, but it seemed to be the only suitable work for you considering your pregnancy, besides, it would allow Simon to keep an eye on you. At least he's sure you'd be safer in the military base than alone in your home.
Your only companion as you sit in the tech room is nothing more than a computer with two screens and Jimmy, the other tech guy who sits in the far corner across from you.
True to his word, Price had saved you and Simon a horrible martial court plus being discharged. Technically you're no longer a part of the 141 task force which is already upsetting to all of your team; instead working strictly under Price's command and assisting the different branches of the military. Meaning you're no longer subdued to Lieutenant Riley, therefore you're not his subordinate, at least not directly.
You respond to Price and only Price.
Nearing the end of your first trimester your swollen belly has started to show, the same you try to dissimulate by wearing bigger shirts than you would usually wear, but enough for Simon to notice when he'd place a big calloused hand on your stomach.
'It's... tiny.' He had stated, to which you laughed softly.
'Of course it is, your hand is massive!'
You shake your head, with a small smile on your lips as you remember that scene.
"Everything good?" You ask your companion.
"Mhm. You know you're the best for creating the security system right? Not a single breach or flaw. Couldn't ask for a better partner."
"Is that a chai?" Completely ignoring what he just said you point the white disposable cup next to him. He looks between you and his drink.
"Yeah? Didn't know you liked it, here... have it. I can get another." He assures you when you hesitate.
You thank him with glowing eyes and excitement. Cravings... you're embarrassed of the amount of food you've asked from Simon in the middle of the night. Sushi, pizza and even peaches just for the sake of the baby.
He's being the gentlest man on earth. Caring and supportive. Your phone buzzes as you're about to start to work. The screen lights up with a message from your Captain. Huffing you stand up, letting Jimmy know you'll be back in a few minutes, or so you thought.
You're not prepared for the hell unfolding inside John's office.
You're able to hear male voices from the other side of the hallway. You don't know why but your heart begins to race, knocking twice once you've reached the brown wooden door.
"Come in!" Price shouts from inside.
You open the door, greeted by John's hardened eyes and Simon's back as he hunches over the Captain's desk. Confused and much to your dismay there's a gigantic folder between the two men, your eyes fall on Ghost's trembling frame.
He is enraged.
Body buzzing in anger as the soft click of the door interrupts the silence that's fallen suddenly inside.
"You wanted to see me Sir?"
Price slowly stands, Simon doing the same, turning his head ever so slightly to watch you from over his shoulder.
"I need to talk to you, sweetheart." Price begins.
A deep breath exits Simon's chest.
"What is it?" You take a step closer to them, until you're standing next to him, crossing his arms over his chest he remains silent.
"We need you. For a mission." He states. "It's important, sergeant. I don't think anyone else would be able to pull this off." Your eyes dart back to your boyfriend. Staring daggers at his superior. "I'd never ask for this if I had to."
"Bloody hell Price, she's not fucking going!" He is seething.
The gut-wrenching feeling sets in your belly, tossing and turning with anxiety. Simon isn't taking this well and you don't want to see him like this, it breaks your heart.
"How important, Sir?" You ask.
Ghost snaps his head towards you. Jaw tightening, and calls your name ever so softly.
"Don't." He barks. "Don't fucking play the hero, kid." He warns you.
"I'm not trying to play the hero, Simon." You talk back. "I'm trying to figure out how to get this done. I might have someone else that could go in my place." Price sighs. "Can I do it from the base? Maybe I don't have to leave the compound."
"Reports say the files are heavily encrypted. It's the Russians, sergeant. We're not dealing with amateurs." He turns to Ghost emphasizing the last word. "You more than anyone should understand, Lieutenant."
"Not when you're bloody sending her to a suicide mission!"
"These are not my orders Simon! General Shepherd wants her! I tried to talk him out of it. I can't do much more, son." You swallow when Simon starts pacing around like a rabid dog, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Is there any way I can do it? She can guide me through it the whole time..." he's back, leaning closer to his Captain. "I know I...-"
"Unless you know how to code and decrypt systems to perfection it can't be, Ghost. I'm sorry."
"It would only slow down the mission, get you caught. And in danger..." you reasoned, mumbling and staring down to your feet. There's no one else. Not even Jimmy. The one you had in mind.
Simon's mouth snapped shut.
His eyes are helpless when he connects them with yours. The realization of what's about to happen sinking in his core, he tried. He really did.
One long stride and he's embracing you, so tightly you think you'll suffocate; you hug him back, head resting right over where his heart beats frantically against his ribcage.
"I'm coming with her." He snarls. "Not Kyle, not Johnny. And certainly not someone from fucking KorTac." He turns to glare at Price with a death stare. "It'll be me, no one else."
-
"John's devastated." You tell him. Your back pressing against his hard chest. The water in the bathtub is warm, and smells like lavender and sandalwood. After the catastrophic meeting a few hours ago, Simon was too outraged to remain at the base so he drove both of you back to the safety of his apartment. You rest your head on his left shoulder, enjoying the delicate touch of his hands on your lower belly. He hums, almost absentmindedly. He didn't want to think about Price, or the mission for all that matters. All he can think of is you. He sighs, closing his eyes he presses a kiss on your hair.
"Bloody fucking bald cunt." He spits. You snort at his comment. Shepherd was a complicated man, and hardly one you could negotiate with once he had his mind set on something or someone.
"When do we have to...-"
"Tomorrow." Your lips are pressed into a thin line. "I'll be there no matter what, right next to you, love." He reassures you. You were never one to hesitate during missions but now... releasing a shaky breath you turn your head to look at Simon.
"I'm scared..." Simon's body goes rigid. The hand on your stomach halting. "It's not even for me, you know?" Swallowing your free hand reaches down to find his own, lacing your fingers with him. A muscle becoming prominent in his jaw as he grits his teeth.
"Nothing will happen to you. Bloody count on it, yeah? First shite I deem dangerous I'm pulling us out of there, understand?" You nod.
"Promise me you won't get hurt." There's a moment of silence that becomes unbearable the longer it extends. "Simon..." his eyes are fixated on yours, shining with what you can only describe as worship. The faintest of smiles spreads across his features.
"Don't you worry about me, sweetheart. Not for one second." Breathing deeply you pull him down for a kiss. It's slow and tender; makes you forget about all the difficulties you face. Biting down his lip, Simon takes it as a sign to further deepen the kiss. Tongues finding each other in a fight for dominance. "Don't wanna think about what tomorrow holds. I have you here right now. That's all I need."
-
Your mind goes back to the moments you and Simon shared last night. It was so simple, so real.
That's how things were supposed to be.
Easy.
Not heart wrenching, not stifling down a cry as you watch him get shot. A bullet that was aimed at you .Breaking in had been easy. Way too easy for your liking. But you thought that for once maybe a mission wouldn't be a pain in the ass. The hardest part was getting inside their systems; John was right. It was hellish even for you. It took more time than what you had anticipated. No one would've been able to pull it off.
"Whoever is behind this, they're good." You acknowledged as you type down the codes that will eventually get you in.
"Bloody brilliant you are, kid." Simon watches from the other side of the room, eyes scanning the hallway every now and then looking for any possible hostiles. You send him a coy smile.
"Keep looking at me like that and I'll get no work done."
"How am I supposed to look at you then?" He asks
You don't answer because the screen in front of you suddenly shifts from 'Access denied' to 'Access granted'.
"Got you." You whisper. Simon stands straight. You plug your USB and start downloading all the information as well as setting a virus so their system gets permanently damaged.
"What is it?" He gruffly asks when the files finished downloading on your own device. Clearing your throat you try to ignore the horrible pictures you just took a glimpse of.
"Just... insanity." Is all you can say. A loud metallic sound echoes in the room, you never get to see the person behind you. Ghost's eyes widen and he barks an order your ears don't register, static fills your eardrums. The gunfire starts but lasts mere seconds. Crimson blood splutters from Simon's body.
You stand up, knocking down the chair as you jump out and run where Simon's injured body kneels. You fall down grabbing him by the face. The pain you're feeling deep inside has never been worse.
"I'm fine." He hisses. "Just my fucking shoulder."
As if that would make you feel better.
"Let's get the hell out of here." Your lips quiver. You run back to retrieve the small USB drive.
The body of a man lays down, a pool of blood forms around him. He was hiding behind you the entire time. Had Simon been distracted the outcome could've been atrocious. Yo don't dwell on it.
"Come on, baby." You urge him, crouching down to help Simon as much as you can to get him standing. His weight is just too much for you, you think, when he finally raised to his feet.
"S'okay love. Don't... don't overwork yourself. I'm too heavy, don't wanna get you hurt because of me."
Tears form in the corner of you eyes at such selfless act.
"You're the one who got hurt because of me, Simon." You stammer.
"So what? Would fucking die for you." You shake your head but keep close to him. Pressing down the wound on his shoulder as you head towards the exit. "Evac point is ten minutes away. We should be fine." The gun that rests on your thigh feels heavier than it should.
You're lucky, you guess as you walk away from the god forsaken building.
Lucky that you have him by your side, even when his blood stains your fingers. He's there, you're there and you're making it out alive. Wounded or not, Simon would never let anything happen to you, that's how deep his love for you was.
He wasn't like his dad at all.
He was real, caring, something not much people knew. Not in their lifetime.
The amount of blood he was losing was inhumane. An injured shoulder couldn't cause someone to lose this much blood, you ponder. Your black shirt feels sticky and damp, you take a quick glance and hold back a sob. Another gunshot wound, one he didn't care enough to tell you about and you didn't notice, too scared to even think.
Far in the distance between two big threes a black truck awaits. Johnny's face dropping when he noticed Ghost's decaying form. He rushes in your direction, taking him off of you, carrying his weight. He gives you a concerned look.
"Johnny..." you choke up. "We have to save him, please."
-
It's been the worst 48 hours of your life since you landed. He got two surgeries done in order to remove the fragments from inside his body. You were exhausted, barely ate or slept. It almost felt criminal, selfish, when your eyes started to close and finally gave in.
Then the nightmares came.
Ones where he didn't make it back and instead you had to leave him behind and never got to meet his child.
A warm feeling spreads from your skin. A faint touch. Are you still dreaming? His face erupts in your subconscious mind and you cry again. He's fine.
When you slowly open up your eyes you're met with blue eyes and a raspy voice.
"Don't neglect yourself for me, kid." You're speechless, the searing pain in your heart eases. He knows you so well. Knows you haven't left his side. "Takes more than a bullet to keep me away from you." When you don't move nor speak he continues, clearing his throat. "Come here, sweet thing."
There's a new wave of tears that fall mercilessly down your cheeks. You carefully climb up next to Simon's good side.
"Don't you ever scare me like that!" you weep. Sobbing uncontrollably Simon hushes you. Murmuring words of comfort in your ear. The anesthesia is still making him feel dizzy but that doesn't stop him from kissing every part of your face. Your hair, your forehead, your cheek and finally your lips.
"Let's leave this place for a while. Go on vacation while we still can..." you beg.
Simon's lips twitch. He's smiling down at you.
"What do you have in mind doll?"
You breathe deeply.
"Greece. I always wanted to go to Greece."
There's moments in life when you doubt you'll get a happy ending. Being with Simon at first was pure coincidence, something that had evolved from deep admiration and respect, which then turned into something more. It turned out to sleepless nights at the common room with the task force. Longing stares during briefings. Looking after each other during missions.
The training sessions together. Lending his massive leather jacket because you were always reluctant to bring your own. That one night he couldn't resist it anymore and went to your dorm. How you felt under his touch, oh he was touch starved when it came to you. And when he learned he was going to be a father, that moment would be ingrained into his memory until his very last day.
"Greece it is."
It's a promise.
TAGS:
@nijiru @illyanam1011
#call of duty modern warfare 2#cod#cod mwii#cod mw2#cod x reader#cod mw22#cod ghost#simon ghost riley#simon riley imagine#simon riley x reader#call of duty ghost simon riley#john price x reader#soap mactavish x reader#cod simon riley#simon riley#cod simon ghost riley#simon riley x you
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Seal It With a Kiss ⨳ Kishibe
"You want me to do this for you? Then tell me exactly what it is that you want."
notes: I came up with this idea for @akiniku back in like september when i was just beginning to sniff around the csm fandom for a favorite. Dom told me all about him and i fell in love and came up with this plot and *then* I read csm lol. 6+ months later, here we are T-T thanks to @cyancherub for reading through his characterization for me and for my past and future beta readers<3 (i know some of you havent gotten the chance i was just too excited) Idon’t know if i will ever be able to put as much love into a Kishibe fic ever again so lets try to appreciate this
warnings: female reader, longer than a drabble, alcohol, virginity loss + inexperienced reader, creampie, emotional manipulation, coercion but there's consent, age gap (like 30 years between them, fight me), trainee/mentor relationship, twisted savior complex, canonverse, piss (more about control than it is the kink)
Rules/BYF/DNI
Kishibe sighs. “That’s it for today.”
“Already?” You puff, sweat dripping down your temples, your blade lowering until the tip is pointing to the ground. “I could keep going.”
He sighs again, resisting the urge to rub the approaching headache from his temple. Kishibe will never understand the PSDH’s insistence of sending him all of their potentials. Their screening is usually decent enough to keep this type of student from beneath his weathered wings, but every now and then one will slip through. One like you. Earnest, hopeful, and far too willing to do the job. This ain’t the place for you, never will be. They set you loose on the streets and you’ll be some Devil’s next meal.
But it’s not his place to care. Not supposed to be at least. Makima won’t even tell him which Devils you have contracts with—but again, he doesn't care.
Kishibe ignores your mumbled complaints about cutting your training short, sighing under his breath. “Gonna need’a drink after this.”
He’s unprepared for you to pop up at his side, tilting your head as you ask if you can come with him.
“Why?”
The question seems to put you off. “Isn’t it good manners to take your juniors out after a hard day?”
Kishibe huffs at your coy tone, certain you’re just after a free meal. “That’s for juniors who’ve proven they earned it.”
That seems to put you off even more. “You don’t think I’ve earned it?”
“No.” His answer is short, clipped. Dark eyes watch intently as you deflate a little, that perpetually cheerful expression drooping into something he ultimately decides is an unsettling expression on a face like yours. He doesn’t care for it, unable to decide why.
“How’s this?” He grunts, pulling a cigarette from his pack and lighting up. “I’ll give ya a week.”
“A week for what? You're not supposed to smoke inside, you know.” A sulky tone meets Kishibe’s ears, your eyes tracking his lips and the flare of the cherry as he inhales.
He ignores the snipe. “You get close enough to me to take one of these away—” a twitch of his fingers has flaky ash fluttering to the linoleum, “—and I’ll take you out for drinks. That’s how you earn it.”
The sparkle is back in your eyes in an instant. Your sword tips back into its sheath, coming up on his left to give him a smile. "You got it, sir! You'll never smoke again. Just watch."
Kishibe rolls a shoulder, suppressing a groan at your chipper attitude. I'm getting too old for this shit. "We'll see about that, sweetheart."
He's ignorant to the way the words make you pause, moving for the door, ready to get in his car and drive to his regular dive bar. He needs the silence of the drive before he drowns himself for the night. Well, not so much silence as the rattling heating unit, the rush of passing cars, and music so quiet one might question why it’s even on. It’s simply the beginning step of the ritual he’s come to find most comforting, or numbing, on this job.
"See you tomorrow, sir?"
“Yeah.” He doesn’t even bother glancing back as the door closes behind him.
The autumn air clears his head a little as he finally escapes the hallways of the office. A cold breeze whips at his hair, bringing old scars and memories to mind as it bites at his skin. Kishibe takes a final drag of his cigarette and lets it fall to the pavement. He doesn’t stub it out, pulling out the collar of his jacket to fight the chill as he disappears into the evening crowd.
“That is not how this works.”
“There’s no way this doesn’t count!”
“Give them back.”
“I said you’d never smoke again, didn’t I? I didn’t think you of all people would want me to go back on my word.”
Kishibe takes a careful inhale through his nose, closing his eyes for a beat and convincing himself he won’t kill any of his trainees. He’s sent you to infirmiry more times than he cares to count with these training sessions, to bring home the apparently wavering point on your young dumb invicibility complex, but he knows where the line is. So when he opens them, Kishibe fixes you with the same intent stare that usually gets his subordinates to straighten up, or clingy women out of his apartment. Dark, unimpressed, unwavering.
You are painfully undeterred.
“I had to get close enough to take them from you. That’s what you said.” You stand in front of him, at a regrettably smart distance, looking mighty proud of yourself as you clutch the worn white box carefully in your fist. After five straight days of utter and total defeat, you’d made your move on the car ride over this morning instead.
“I said one, not the pack,” Kishibe drawls. “And you know damn well that ain’t the point here. Nickin' them from the car is not the same.”
You shrug, a familiar petulance beginning to saturate your tone. “Not my fault you weren’t paying attention. You said that kills people.”
Unprepared for the—still a smartass answer but—wisdom of your words, some of the intensity dissolves from his eyes. As if he really needed that reminder. He still has his doubts.
“No arguing that,” Kishibe sighs, scratching his neck. “Guess you get what you wanted. Drinks on me tonight.”
A triumphant smile brightens your face, but it doesn’t last. The barest moment later you find yourself flat on your back on the training facility’s floor, groaning at the impact.
Kishibe flicks his lighter, sparking his cigarette and taking a grateful inhale of sweet nicotine as he stands over you, impassive.
“But I’m still gonna make you earn it, sweetheart. Getting overconfident and lettin’ down your guard also kills people. Get up and block me next time.”
“Yes, sir."
He might have been harsher on you today than entirely warranted as he watches you wince and shift, trying to get comfortable in the weathered booth of his usual bar. But really, to go any easier on you would do you a disservice if you really are this hellbent on working in public safety. Part of Kishibe is hoping one training session—and soon—he’ll find your limit and you’ll realize you aren’t making the cut. At the very least he’d like you to settle for the civilian sector. Hell, Kishibe despises paperwork but he'd write your damn recommendation.
You’re peering around the dimly lit space. It's hazy with smoke, with a scent to match. He probably could have taken you somewhere nicer, but he really didn’t want to stray too far from his own comfort zone, so what the hell. This was your own idea anyways.
“Are you even old enough to be in here?” Kishibe asks suddenly, catching the eye of the bartender and tipping his head.
“I came of age a couple months ago.”
Kishibe cringes inwardly at your prideful tone. Fucking great. He eyes you as the bartender begins to edge out from behind the counter, watching as you glance around a little frantically for a menu. Shoddy place like this doesn’t really have one.
Kishibe gestures between the two of you before the man has to cross the bar completely. “My usual. Double for me.”
"What's your usual?" You ask curiously.
"Whiskey. Nothing fancy, just cheap and strong."
"Oh."
The glasses are placed in front of you and you give what Kishibe sees as an awkward smile at the bartender as your fingers wrap around the glass. He takes a grateful gulp, unable to help but notice you haven't made a move with your own.
"Not to your taste?"
"I don't know," you answer plainly, tilting the short glass and letting the amber liquid catch the light. "Never had it."
"Never had whiskey?" Kishibe hums, bored, taking another drink. The double is going fast. The familiar warmth has already settled in his chest, an old comfort.
"Never had alcohol."
Sucker punched with that information, Kishibe pauses and swallows the last of his glass before setting it down and signaling for a refill. He's far too practised to waste a drop of a drink he's paying for.
"Why are we here?" It's a shrewd question, a shrewd tone. "If you've never had alcohol, why were you so insistent on going out for drinks? Isn't that something you do with your friends?"
Your fingers tighten on the glass, a small pout forming on your lips. "Didn’t wanna do this with friends. Wanted my first drink to be with you, s-sir." Embarrassment coats your features as your words stumble off at the end, and you return to examining your still untouched drink.
Kishibe's refill arrives, another heaven sent double. He's getting the faint inkling that something else is happening here and he's far too tired to pick the answers out of you.
"Lemme get this straight," he drawls, leaning forward and jabbing a finger at you over the rim of his glass before bringing it to his lips. "You wanted your first drink out with a tired old man instead of your friends?"
"You're not tired!"
Your tone is scandalized, pitch rising high enough that it catches the attention of some other men seated nearby. The last thing he needs.
Kishibe scoffs, scar twitching as he fights a sardonic smirk. "Beg to differ sweetheart."
"You're not, you…you're—" your volume is back to normal, seemingly struggling with your words, and it's amusing if not slightly endearing.
"Lemme know when you think of something, I'll be here," Kishibe mumbles, drinking again, content to watch you squirm. "You gonna take that first drink? You got me here, like you wanted. Might as well."
That small smirk finally fights its way onto his lips as you give him the barest of glares. He usually doesn't see that look on you until you've gone an entire session without landing a single hit. It's cute.
"You're you. Don't gotta 'splain myself to you," you grumble, timidly lifting the glass to your lips.
"No, you don't," Kishibe rumbles in agreement, watching as you take your first swallow.
To your merit you don't splutter or cough, but a grimace splinters across your expression as you swallow and stare down at the glass in mild disbelief.
"This sucks," you announce firmly.
Kishibe barks out a short laugh and finishes his second drink. "I'll order ya something else."
He's reaching for your glass when you snatch it away from him.
"No, I'll finish it. This is what you usually get?"
"Yeah. But take it easy, that's a—" Kishibe stares, a little defeated as you down the glass. "Tha'sa sippin' whiskey."
"What's that mean?" You croak out, your face scrunching up despite your efforts.
"It means you're getting a glass of water before I get you anythin' else."
"Why?"
You'll thank me in the morning, Kishibe thinks grimly, not deigning to answer. Along with the next few rounds and the rounds after that, he also orders your water and some food, feeling abnormally generous. Maybe he just doesn’t want to deal with your grumbling tomorrow at training.
He can’t stop thinking how strange this is. It’s strange. You’re here in his usual booth, humming an odd tune while drinking his usual whiskey, when he’s here each night, usually alone. Kishibe feels the deep disturbance all the way to his roots, gnarled and twisted as they are.
Watching your face twist up at the taste again, Kishibe decides to slow down with some soju instead. Your eyes are getting blurry and your hands have settled into some kind of nervous habit, picking at the edge of the table as you try not to look at him. He doesn't understand your insistence here. Here at the bar, or anything else.
"Why are you doin' this?" He asks again, quiet.
You glance at him, blinking slowly as your gaze struggles to focus. Then you force a smile, sweet and pure as a Devil's heart. It's damn near chilling to see.
"'Cause I want to, sir."
"Bullshit." He's looked into you. Your family is alive, financially stable. You're not like most rookies joining up for the pay or the revenge. And from being around you he figures you aren't the type to do this for status. So it doesn't make sense.
Your smile fades. "What do you mean?"
"Exactly what I said. You're not cut out for this shit, kiddo. An' I think ya know it, too."
"It's my first night out drinking, how can you tell?"
"Don't play coy with me."
You stand sharply, unsteady, a look crossing your face that Kishibe can't read. Before he can speak again, you're sliding into the booth on his side.
"Then ask me directly, sir." You whisper, trying valiantly to meet his harsh stare, before eventually losing your nerve and fixing your gaze on the table.
Like Kishibe has any problem being direct. Fine then. He sets his glass down and turns his body to face you. "Why're ya training so damn hard to become a Devil Hunter when it's just gonna get you killed?"
Cheeks warming, you don't look at him again. "Every Hunter has their reason, or else they wouldn't be here. We don't gotta share them unless we want to."
Your words are halting, and slurred. Kishibe pushes your drink out of reach. A fifth of whiskey and bottle of soju between you both for your first night out was an oversight on his part, even if he had more than you.
"And you're not goin' to tell me?"
Head dropping into your palm, eyelashes fluttering, you peek up at him. "Not unless you can tell me why you care."
Kishibe pauses. He's got plenty of reasons, but he's not uncouth enough to say them to you. 'Cause he doesn't want to be wasting his time prepping meat for the chopping block. 'Cause booze is expensive and sleep is precious. He doesn't get enough as it is and he's sick at the idea of losing more. 'Cause every time one of his trainees dies, it feels like a new scar cracks its way across the already trampled fragments of his soul.
There's plenty of reasons he drinks himself nearly dead every night.
Your fuzzy eyes peer into his darkened ones and seemingly run into the wall that you know he's put up. "Then it's better you don't ask, sir. It’s important to me, that’s all you need’ta know."
So much for direct.
There's a silence at the table after Kishibe gruffly orders another drink, his mood for the night officially ruined. This is why he doesn't socialize with coworkers. Save people by day, check out at night. He lives for one fleeting peace; he'd rather be drowning in booze and laid up in the arms of whatever woman will put up with him.
And all he has right now is booze. He flags the barkeep. "Bottle for the road."
You shift to look at him. "Are we leaving already?"
"Yeah. You've had plenty."
There's no complaint, but there's no mistaking the look of disappointment on your face as he takes your arm and helps haul you to your wobbly feet.
"What's that look for?"
"I was having fun, sir."
"Stop calling me sir."
"Why?"
"Cause we're at a fucking bar. Sir is for work."
"Then what am I supposed to call you?"
"Just Kishibe."
He finally looks at you again and you're smiling and this time there's nothing to be unsettled about. "No honorific? You'll let me call you by name?"
"It's sir at work," Kishibe reminds, deadpan.
“And master in front of other hunters, I know,” you parrot cheekily, and Kishibe merely curls his lips in a temporary smirk.
“Damn right.”
"But not at work?" You prod, leaning into his frame heavily as the cold night air washes away the warmth of the bar.
"Then yeah, drop the honorific."
"Kishibe." His name leaves your lips as a wonder-filled giggle. The corner of his lip tugs further upward unwittingly in dry amusement. At least someone can salvage the mood for the night.
You poke at the bottle held loosely in his grip. "Can I have some of that?"
He passes it to you. "You don't even like the stuff."
An impressive amount of the amber liquid disappears down your throat before you groan in disgust and pass it back to him. "Sometimes we do stuff we don't like 'cause we get something out of it."
Kishibe hums at that. "And what do you get out of it?"
"'S a secret."
"A secret, huh? You seem to have a lot of those." He drawls, keeping you upright when you almost fall again. Yeah, he needs to find you a taxi or something. Neither of you are driving tonight. It's a little annoying, he meant to stop at the convenience store to get another pack of cigs before going home tonight. The crumpled empty pack is still in his pocket—he hasn't had one since this morning and Kishibe can feel the irritation in his nerves.
"What's your address kid?" He nudges you as the taxi pulls up, but your weight against his hip suddenly feels dead. "Are you—of course you are."
Kishibe's whole chest fills with his next sigh, and he quietly works to get you into the cab. The driver asks him where they're going and he actually has to think about it for a moment. He'd much rather prefer going back to his cozy little hideout, but it's a mess and much too small. Not to mention he absolutely does not want you knowing where it is.
Closing his eyes, Kishibe reluctantly mumbles out an address, and sinks even deeper into his bottle before the cab drops them off at the requested location.
He eyes you over as the elevator quietly ascends, one arm around your waist with yours around his shoulder to bear your weight. It's really no wonder you passed out, the scent of whiskey is just about crawling out of your pores. Between the two of you, Kishibe bets the elevator smells like a distillery.
The doors open into his “apartment”.
He doesn't like sleeping here. The place is too big, ceilings too high, furniture too fancy. All those high windows and modern grays and whites. It's perfectly clean and perfectly lifeless, set up for him by the PSDH. He's sure some bright-eyed big shot hunter in it for the money and high living would get a kick out of the place, but for a man like him the space is just obnoxious. But since his studio isn't an option, and Kishibe can't be bothered with taking you to a hotel, he figures you'd rather prefer one of his guest rooms instead.
Kishibe flinches and grumbles under his breath as the now empty bottle slips from his hand and clatters to the hardwood. You make a rather undignified snort as you startle to awareness. If one could call it that.
“Wha—” Your fingers cling to the sleeve of his jacket as you blink through the blur of your eyesight, struggling to find your footing. “Where’re we now?”
“My place.”
“You live here?”
“Technically.”
He hauls you towards the kitchen, somewhat a struggle with your uninhibited desire to swivel your head and scan the place as thoroughly as you were presently capable of doing.
“Not what I pictured.” You wobble and right yourself, slumping against the marble countertop. Kishibe pauses, making sure you’re gonna make a dive for his floor before he turns to pull open the fridge.
“Yeah well, me neither.”
“It’s so clean.” That earns you a grunt. “And modern.”
“You tryin’ to say something, sweetheart?” He sends you a look that sends a hot wave of embarrassment across your face.
“No! ‘M just sayin’...”
“Yeah, whatever. Here.”
You take the water bottle he pushes into your hands and open it, halfheartedly taking a few sips to ease the simmer in your cheeks.
Kishibe snorts when you put it down. “Nuh uh, finish that.”
You take another sip, trying to placate him. “‘M not thirsty though.”
Your eyes widen as he grumbles and steps closer, dark eyes narrowed. It’s impossible to muffle the noise of complaint on your lips as he tips the water bottle back, keeping your chin up with an uncompromising strength. "Tough. I said all of it."
The rough pads of his thumbs feel like fire on your jaw and he seems to have no idea how his proximity is setting you ablaze. You quickly swallow before you choke, or worse spill down your chin like a child. He doesn’t let go until you’ve finished the bottle—it’s impossible not to gasp for air as if you’ve breached the surface of a pool for the first time in minutes.
“Pretty good lungs.”
“I almost died—!” You wheeze, unappreciative of the joke, wiping your face with your arm.
“You were gonna be dead in the morning if you didn’t. Might as well get it over with.” Kishibe sets the empty bottle on the counter, unflappable.
“Hmph.”
You watch curiously as he grabs himself some water, noticing with a scowl that he doesn’t drink nearly as much as he forced on you. He reaches for a small bottle, rattling as he shakes a couple into his palm. “You’re not supposed to take those with alcohol.”
Kishibe gives you a dry look and pops the painkillers into his mouth. He can feel his head pounding already, his routine thoroughly interrupted. He can’t mentally check out with you still here, especially in this state. You look a little more solid now compared to your unconscious slump, but you’re still visibly swaying, blurred eyes drifting in and out of focus. Last thing he needs is for you to do something to yourself when he’s around. The paperwork for that would be the death of him.
He shrugs and nods for you to follow. “C’mon, sweetheart.”
You suddenly look nervous. “C’mon where?”
“Night’s over. Time for bed.”
You produce a shaky laugh. “What?”
Sweet fuck.
“You want a bed or the couch?” Kishibe takes applaudable effort to keep the exhaustion out of his tone. Honestly, you'd probably be better off with the couch, grateful for your mumbled little ‘doesn’t matter to me’. He's not sure of the state of any of the rooms, considering he's trashed them before. Whoever set the place up for him might have a cleaning service but he's never bothered to ask about it since he’s never here. “There’s blankets around here somewhere.”
Stepping into the living room he sees he’s right, a couple of soft looking throws draped over the back of a plush black sectional. You’re trailing close behind him, like you’ll get lost if you lose sight of him.
“Sit.” Kishibe says tiredly as you circle around the edge of the sectional, looking around curiously.
You listen and he grabs the other blanket off the far arm of the couch, tossing it and one of the pillows towards where you’re sitting. The pillow lands at your side, the blanket haphazardly in your lap, are you’re just staring at him as he settles on the other side, shrugging out of his suit jacket and letting that fall to the floor.
“Get comfortable, go to sleep,” Kishibe grunts, closing his eyes.
“You’re staying in here?”
He doesn’t read into the tone of your voice, keeping his eyes shut. “Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t choke on your own puke in your sleep.”
“‘M not gonna puke,” you grumble under your breath.
Kishibe wills in a sigh, listening to the rustle of blankets and what he assumes is you settling down. Only to tense as the cushion near him dips under weight. He opens his eyes to see you sitting you next to him and his eyes sharpen.
You cut him off, seeming to sense whatever biting remark is coming. “I’m not tired. Not good at sleeping in new spaces.”
“Well you need’ta try.”
“Can we just talk for a bit?”
He sighs, but he doesn’t refute you, opening his eyes to give you a quiet stare. “Fine. What do you want to talk about?”
Relying heavily on the lingering alcohol in your veins to gather the nerve, you scooch closer to his position on the couch, dragging the blanket with you. “You’ve really never had anyone over here? But Himeno says you never spend your nights alone.”
Kishibe eyes you warily as you enter what he considers his field of personal space, your knees barely brushing against his thighs. “I don’t normally spend my nights here. And you can tell Himeno she’s got better things t’do than gossip about my personal life.”
“So you spend the night at their place then?”
“Sometimes.”
“Are you really the womanizer everyone says you are?”
Kishibe glances up to see you even closer and shifts a little to give you a measured look, eyelids drooping in suspicion. “You really want the truth of that?”
“Yeah, ‘m hoping to hear something,” you murmur, heart racing as you place a hand on his abdomen. It stiffens under your touch, but he makes no move to stop you, so you toy with the button of his shirt.
“And what’s that exactly?” Shock receding, his mind catches up and he grabs your hand, keeping it from tracing its upward path.
“There’s something I’m hoping you can help me with, sir.”
“Kishibe.”
“Kishibe,” you correct, cheeks warming as you finally raise your eyes from his chest to look into his own. He’s watching you so closely that you almost look away again, almost chickening out.
His eyes are locked onto the way you’re chewing at your lip, waiting for you to say something more, hoping for anything that makes sense. When you don’t his patience thins enough to ask, “Well?”
“I-um,” you hesitate before your fingers curl into his shirt, mentally fortifying yourself, “I’ve never… I’m looking for someone experienced to- to help me. I want it to be you.”
There's a small pause as his whiskey-addled mind filters out the meaning of your words. Then, a small disbelieving smirk is half-formed on his lips when he scoffs out a laugh. “Ha, no, sweetheart. No, I don’t think so.”
He’s shifting to stand up off the couch when you panic. You’ve gotten this far! He has to hear you out, or you’ll never be able to look him in the eye again, let alone train under him. So before he can, you throw your thigh over his lap, straddling him. His hands flash to your arms in an iron grip, keeping your hands from wandering any further. He’s staring at you in muted disbelief, tense, as if he can’t quite believe you’re defying him.
“Please wait,” your voice raises in pitch, but you’re almost whispering. “I can explain, please just listen.”
“What? Cute little student girl got the hots for teacher? Or are you desperately in love with me now, and can’t bear the thought of anyone else sullying your innocence?” he drawls out, the insanity of this situation finally allowing him to release the floodgates on all the ill manner he’s been attempting to keep back all night.
Your face might as well be a space heater as you splutter in mortification at being seen through so easily, trying to find the words to refute him. “N-no! No, I wasn’t. That’s… That’s not…”
“You better clear this up real quick then, sweets, cause you don’t have long before I take it into my own hands,” Kishibe warns lowly, soft and dangerous, seconds from calling a cab to get you miles away from his apartment, and more importantly him.
The hard-eyed stare he’s giving you now is nothing like the way he looks at you in training. Your heart sinks into your stomach at the thought that entertaining your feelings is enough to make him react this way, turning him into this colder version of himself that you barely recognize. This is not going the way you intended, but you can’t imagine that you’ll ever be in a situation like this ever again, so you take a deep breath and clear your expression of all deceit. “It’s not like that, but I really can’t think of anyone else to help me with this. It’s not for lack of trying.”
Kishibe eyes you, his grip on your arms not slacking. You glance down at him warily, and he’s like a bristling cat that’s making an attempt at trust.
“So…? Will you help me?”
He mumbles eventually, still tense, “Why not Hayakawa? Or one of the other rookies, they’re probably better suited.”
You make a face. “The rookies are stupid, and Hayakawa-san is just too… stern.”
“I’m not stern?”
“That’s not the point!” You retort hotly. “Hayakawa just seems more like someone who isn’t interested in casual flings—”
“And that’s what you’re looking for here?” Kishibe cuts in drily, noting the way your mouth snaps shut. You shift awkwardly in his lap and he stoutly blames his nightly routine for the way his body is sluggishly perking to life. He might have the heart of a saint, but his mind is more like a devil’s… and he has eyes.
Oblivious to his internalizations, you grimace. You don't want casual anything so it's technically a point in Hayakawa's favor. But there's one big point in the younger man's (begrudgingly small) list of cons that can't be overlooked: he's not Kishibe.
“I’m looking for someone who knows what they’re doing,” you inform him, your voice softening. There’s a sort of vulnerability to you now that has the older man caving despite himself and listening more intently, watching you whiplash between assertive and shy for the nth time. “Someone I trust, who won’t take advantage of me. And… I don’t believe the whole sacred virginity schtick, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want my first time to be… I don’t know, special?”
Kishibe’s mouth runs dry, and this time he blames the alcohol. “This isn’t a good idea.”
“Don’t say that,” you plead softly, leaning closer without thinking in your excitement. That wasn’t a refusal. “It doesn’t have to be a big deal, I don’t have anyone else to ask.”
He can feel your breath on his cheeks, his eyes bouncing between your lips and eyes for a moment before humming low. “No one else? A girl like you, having to settle for an old man like me?”
"No one has to know. Please, sir?" You plead quietly, with crystal notes of sincerity. It's a painfully sweet sound.
Kishibe reluctantly lets your arms slip from his hands and drops his own to loosely grip your waist, absently drawing a pattern on your hip with one finger. The heat of your body is filtering so thick through your clothes that he doesn't know how he didn't notice it until now. You shiver at his touch, and he tries to keep his expression neutral when you instinctively grab at his shoulders.
He shouldn't be considering this for even a second, but he is and he hates himself for it. You're a young pretty thing, and he's made a point to stop looking at young pretty things the way your touch is sparking him to, for going on years now.
Carefully, one hand moves to rest on your stomach, caressing its way up over your covered chest, eliciting a soft gasp from you before it moves on and settles under your chin, firmly tugging it down to make sure you're looking at him. He's never cared for the way you can't look him in the eye, and he normally lets it go but he won't tolerate it tonight. If he goes through with this, that is.
Your eyes are wide, and glazed in a way that has nothing to do with alcohol for the first time tonight. Kishibe makes a low sound in his throat at the sight of it before speaking, a heavy, rumbling tone meant to ensure you're taking in every word.
"You want me to do this for you?"
"Yes." Your breath catches as you damn near breathe the word out, your heart in your throat and a flutter in your stomach that makes you feel like you might fly away.
"Then tell me exactly what it is that you want." Fuck, he’s really doing this.
"I…" The hesitation must be clear on your face because his expression gets heated, a tiny smirk forming at the corner of his lips. You wouldn't have seen it at all if you weren't staring at them so hard. A quiet moan spills from your lips as he presses them to your jaw, not quite kissing, but dragging them up, warm breath tickling your ear. The center of your world quakes as he continues with that low, soul-quaking tone.
"Do you want me to treat you like a princess? Worship your body and make it all about you, take you to another world as I take you apart?" Kishibe marvels at the broken whimper you make as he grazes his teeth across your earlobe. "Or do you want me to be a little selfish? Show you pleasure as I know it, and change everything you think you know about carnal desire?"
"Sir—"
"No," he warns severely, gripping your thigh in warning, pulling back to look you in the eye.
"Kishibe," you correct yourself with a breathy whine that you hope doesn’t sound ridiculous. "Kishibe, I want you to choose."
"You want me to choose?"
"Th-that's why I chose you. You always- always know what's best."
That's so far from true, but in this realm of possibility, with you blinking those sweet little doe eyes down at him, Kishibe won't be the one to correct you. "...Alright."
"Then please take care of me." Please.
This time it's him who shudders. "Alright," he murmurs again, "Alright, sweetheart. I've got you."
He’s a little gentler this time as he tugs your chin down to him, meeting your lips in a delicate kiss that has all his nerves standing to attention in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time. With other women, he has no reason to be slow or gentle. With other women, both parties know what they’re there for, but this isn’t like that. You aren’t like that. You’re young, and if you’re to be believed, untouched. Pure. And you’ve put yourself in his care, begging for him to remove that purity. He’s not sure he ever would have agreed to this if he were sober, so you lucked out. Or maybe this is what you wanted all along.
Kishibe groans softly as you timidly move to respond to his kiss, alcohol sweet on your breath. You at least seem to know what to do here, parting your lips and staying pliant as he learns how you taste, moving your tongue against his as he explores your mouth. He breaks for a moment, giving you a warning and enough time to stop him, tugging at the hem of your shirt. “I’m taking this off now.”
He waits, and when you do nothing but moan, he begins to pop the buttons of your shirt open, one by one from the bottom up, exposing your navel, and then the black cotton bra beneath. You kiss him deeper as he slides a hand up your spine, rocking your hips into his lap as he pulls at the clasp, undoing it in a practised move. The fabric falls loose, and he presses a hand to your sternum, forcing you to retreat.
Your lips are slick, a little swollen, but it’s the hazy look in your eyes that has all his attention. “You good, sweets? You even gonna remember this in the morning?”
“I will. I will, 'm promise. Please keep going,” you slur, not really giving him the best vote of confidence.
“Take that off for me.” Kishibe tugs loosely at your bra, the cups hanging just low enough for him to get a peek at your areolas. His cock is straining in his slacks now, but he’s too invested for it to be uncomfortable yet. He meant it when he said he was going to take you apart, and he’s going to do it slowly.
You blink at him, and timidly slide the straps off your shoulders. Your movements are slow, but there’s less hesitance than he’s seen so far. It’s clear you’re more worried about his disapproval than any insecurities you might have. Good.
“Good girl. Look at you,” Kishibe is quick to dole out the praise as soon as your tits are exposed, half for your confidence and half because they really are pretty tits. He’s reaching for them before even he can process what he’s doing. Your nipples are already hard, pulled taut and looking painfully neglected, either from your own arousal or the air. It could be cold in here for all Kishibe knows, but the air around him feels thick, heated and charged. He’d be suffocating if he weren’t so focused.
You take a shuddering breath as he holds them. His touch is so light, the pads of his fingers calloused and warm, stroking over the sensitive flesh. You want more, arching into his touch as much as you dare, still unable to shake the thought that he might change his mind and end this, but for now he doesn’t disappoint. Dazed, you realized the sharp gasp that bites the air is yours as he strokes the pads of his fingers over your nipples before tugging lightly, pleasure rippling hot under your skin.
Your head tosses back in a moan as he does it again, this time his lips brushing the curve of your breast as he pulls you forward, pressing your chest closer to his face. He sucks at the fat of your breasts, still gently tweaking your at your hardened nubs, working his way over, seemingly content to explore.
Pleasure moves hot and slow under your skin, but your mind keeps rocketing from one sensation to another, making it impossible to think beyond the man beneath you. His slick tongue moving against your skin, the heat and wet of it stroking over the edge of your areola, the rough pad of his thumb, the scrape of his blunt nail over the sensitive tip of your nipples, the same callouses gripping at your back, fingertips tickling the edge of your shoulder blade.
“Quit it,” Kishibe grunts after a minute, and you realize you’ve twisted your hands into his hair, tugging him closer and trying to drag him to where it feels like he’s purposefully avoiding.
“Please, Kishibe, please,” you moan, blissfully unaware of the minor tantrum you’re throwing at you grind down on his clothed erection. “Your mouth.”
“What about it?” He blinks at you lazily, taking the moment where you sit back to tug at the top few buttons of his own shirt, exposing the top of his chest and a peek of the dark hair that’s hidden beneath.
“Let… Let me feel it,” you breathe out after you’ve snapped your eyes away from that new detail.
The slow grin that spreads across his features feels like the first key in the series of locks that surrounds the man in front of you, a piece of him that he doesn’t share willingly. Something that has to be brought out, dragged out, a prisoner in a cage of its own making.
“Be more specific, sweets.”
But he’s still the same man, he just exists in varying shades. You squirm for a moment, subject to self-consciousness, but the ache in your nipples, growing tighter in the continued neglect, wins out. You cup your own tits, pushing them out as you lean back down to him. “Want it here. Need to feel you suck on them.”
An appreciative gleam brightens dark eyes. “There’s a good girl.”
This time Kishibe leans in with intent, and you learn something else—your mentor is a goddamn tease.
His tongue drags over your nipples before sucking, and your hands are tangled in his hair again before you can process it, a cry in a pitch you don’t even recognize torn from your mouth. The slick muscle flicks over the tip as his free hand comes up to roll the other between his fingers lightly. You’re shamelessly rutting into his lap now, senselessly chasing the pleasure boiling low in your stomach, and you can feel him moan against your skin at the friction.
You feel the scrape of his teeth, light and intentional, before he pops off and switches to the other. The treatment begins anew and you swear you might be able to come from this, the wet suction of his mouth, the tacky warmth as he tugs and twists at the nipple still covered in his spit. But Kishibe doesn’t let you, noting the frantic ruts of your body and beginning to slow his efforts, easing you back down.
“Wait—” Your complaint rears itself as your fingers twist into the shorter hair of his nape, trying to tug him closer the moment he pulls away.
“Easy, I’m not done with you,” he rasps, taking your wrists and gently detanging your fingers from his hair.
You yelp as he grips your thighs and flips your back to the cushions, a strength you already knew he had from all the times he’s stomped you in training, but it surprises you regardless. There’s no time to pick through your thoughts at the display, because Kishibe is bullying between your thighs and capturing your lips in a kiss that puts the last one to shame. It’s possessive, it’s plundering; erasing any other thought from your mind except the way he feels against you. How immovable he feels, his hips keeping your thighs spread, his obvious arousal against your core, his weight against your torso—whatever isn’t supported by his forearm against the cushions, just what he chooses to give you—the scratch of his stubble against your face, the ones he lets overgrow because they shadow his jawline again in less than a day.
You moan into his mouth as a hand slips between your bodies, pulling the button of your slacks and pushing a hand into your panties, the sound turning into a high keen as he drags his fingers through your slit. You know you’re wet, soaked even, but it’s still a shock to feel your own wetness as he pulls back out, slick against your mound before he’s free of your clothing, to see it shining on his fingers when he pulls back to give you a breath. You knew you wanted him, but to see how much would be mortifying if he knew the truth.
The glisten on his fingers goes unnoticed for a second as he catches sight of your wrecked expression, sitting back on his haunches.
“Oh sweets, look at you,” Kishibe chuckles, voice tight. “You’re a pretty sight right now, and you don’t even know. A sweet little mess. My sweet little mess, for tonight.”
Making a decision, he swipes his hands on the thighs of his pants and undoes his shirt, tossing it over the back of the couch, aware of the way you stare from beneath him. He's getting there in years, but the aches of this job refuse to let his body go soft. There's a thin layer of soft skin stretched across the muscles beneath, making the definition less pronounced, less assuming, but there's no denying the power behind them as he flexes subtly, smirking when your eyes track the movement.
"Hips up," he orders firmly, his fingers already tugging at the waistband of your slacks.
Not needing to be told twice, you shift and raise your hips as he pulls them from your legs, panties and all. You're completely bare under him, and he's still wearing his pants, the button popped, looking like a god above you. His eyes are piercing, his expression set like marble. As he puts hot palms on your thighs, spreading them even further apart, you think about how attractive he looks when he smokes, almost wishing he had a cig hanging from his lips so you could see it.
Kishibe is staring intently at your pussy, the hunger in him growing deeper as he watches the muscles twitch. "So no one's ever touched this, huh?"
You shake your head, whimpering as he pulls your sticky lips apart.
"You lying, sweetheart? Not even you?"
Kishibe pulls back the hood of your poor swollen clit, stroking it lightly with the tip of his finger, dark eyes watching your face intently.
The touch rips a gasp from your throat like ice had been poured down your back, tossing your pretty little head back into the pillows as your fingers twist at what little slack the cushions beneath you have. Kishibe feels the flames of hell crawl a little closer to his own flesh as his arousal flares dangerously at the sight.
When you remain silent he prompts a little cruelly for an answer, slowly circling the throbbing bud. "Hmm?"
"I've-yeah I've touched it. Sometimes."
"Tell me."
"Tell you?" You suck in a harsh breath as one of his digits teases your entrance, but pulls away.
"Yeah, tell me how you touch your pussy at night. I wanna know how you play with yourself." His voice drones with detached amusement but his dark eyes are sharp, the sight making your skin prickle with elation to be the center of his attention.
“Usually slow,” you breathe out, moaning when he moves to your clit again. Two fingers press on the bundle of nerves and begin to rub back and forth in a steady tempo.
“Like this?” Kishibe murmurs, watching you closely.
“Slower,” your voice breaks an octave higher as he increases the pressure just a little, readjusting to what you now realize are instructions for him. “Y-yes, mm, like that…”
“Good. How about your fingers, hmm? You do that slow too?”
You can feel yourself dripping down to the couch as his voice drips across you like honey. “Yeah, at first.”
“One to start?”
“Fuck!” A keen tears from your throat as he slides the first digit in, abandoning your clit, the thick, calloused digit pressing in to the hilt with zero resistance.
“Or do you start with two?” Kishibe watches raptly as his middle joins his pointer in the rippling warmth of your cunt, the broken sob leaving your lips sending a irresistible wave of want tearing through his body. The way your hips grind into his touch, chasing more of him is enough to let him know that you can take more, but he lets you stay here for a moment, using his free hand to stroke over his confined cock as you writhe beneath him.
It’s not hard to find the right angle to stroke your slick walls, curling his fingers up into the spot that has you tossing your head back with what almost sounds like a mournful wail, as if you’re just realizing that you’ve never really given yourself real pleasure before. Kishibe isn’t sure if you have to be honest, you haven’t said, but he isn’t concerning himself with that. He’s too focused on the way you shy away from his touch when he presses his thumb to your clit again, as if you can’t take the combination.
“Oh?” It’s almost a coo, delight pulsing in his veins. “Not like that huh? That not how you do it?”
“I can’t, I can’t—it doesn’t, n-never like this!” It almost sounds like you’re pleading with him, your eyes wide as you stare at him, a thick haze of shock and bliss covering your irises that Kishibe is losing himself in, pumping his wrist, tempted to add a third finger just to see what sounds you’ll make.
“Told you I’d change everything you think you know about pleasure, sweetheart.” He pulls his digits from your pussy, relishing in the whine of protest. And if he’s being honest with himself, there’s a bit of a power complex rushing through him, to be able to control your pleasure whether you think you can handle it or not is too alluring. It’s the thought of making you scream, nothing barred, as he forces ecstasty on you that you don’t even know exists on that has him pushing off the couch which a groan to finally free his cock, shucking his pants off, the liquor leaving him a little unsteady.
“Sit up for me.”
You do as he says, confusion scrunching you expression as he settles between your legs, his knees protesting only a little as he shifts so that the plush carpet isn’t dragging uncomfortably against his skin. A little yelp stays in your throat as he tugs you to the edge, spreading your thighs wider and positioning your hips up to expose your pretty pussy. He’s only a breath away, the scent of you thick, kissing distance really, when you slur out some nonsense that sounds questioning, but he can’t say he actually catches any sense of syllables from you.
“I’m thicker than most so you need this,” Kishibe grumbles, nipping at your inner thigh as you squirm and glaring you into submission, “But even a man with a pencil dick better be doin’ this for ya, so don’t accept less.”
Before you can come to terms with him on your knees before you, your mind fizzles out as his tongue swipes through your folds, and his groan vibrates deep into your core. If not for his hands keeping your thighs spread, you would have wrapped them around his head. His nose nudges at your clit as his tongue presses into your clenching pussy, and you can’t stop the garbled sound of pleasure as he laps at your walls, your head tossing back against the couch cushions as he eats you like a meal. It’s surreal, it doesn’t make a lick of sense but oh god you don’t care. The sounds of him slurping at your cunt makes your cheeks burn and you force yourself past your self consciousness to look down at him, the skin of your knuckles stretched tight as you curl them into shaking fists, trying to wrap your mind around the sensations.
Kishibe flattens his tongue over your clit, and meets your gaze with a wicked gleam in his eyes as he slips a finger into you, savoring the way you clamp down right away, giving a reedy mewl. He can’t help himself any longer, one hand closing around his dick and beginning to slowly stroke himself, trying to go slow, to ease some of the pressure and calm himself down. He adds another digit, and sits back as he begins to work you towards your finish.
“Should’ve done this in a bed,” he mutters under his breath, the scent of your pleasure thick, feeling mildly guilty as you tremble through your long awaited awaited high. Even his first encounter had been in a bed, traditional.
Kishibe hisses into your thigh as your fingers twist so tight into his hair that he’d snap at you if he were anywhere but here. Here with his fingers sweeping over your clit, watching the way your muscles ripple and tense, an obscene amount of slick and cum dripping onto his couch, and damn it why are you so easy to spoil? Why is he letting you practically rip the hair from his head as your hips jolt and jump, pleasure taking every ounce of your control away from you. There’s a wet sound as he finally pulls his fingers from your cunt, and you slump against the cushions, a looking so beautifully fucked out that it’s a damn shame you haven’t actually been fucked yet.
But that’s what you came here for, and Kishibe will not be the one to disappoint. He pushes to his feet for a moment and drags your hips until you’re both on the couch comfortably, and lets himself sink between your legs, his dick hot and throbbing against your inner thigh. It’s weeping precome and there’s a shivering sense of relief to know that his patience is finally about to be rewarded.
“You still with me, sweets?” Kishibe murmurs softly, leaning over you, letting his lips drag up your throat in a possessive trail of teeth marks and bruises. “You ready for me?”
The prickle of his overgrown stubble brings you back down a little, and you moan as his tongue swipes over the indentations left in your flesh. “That was—” you gasp at a sharp dig of his teeth under your jaw, hips arching towards him as you feel the weight of his dick between your slick folds, thoughts flying from your mind as the thick tip of him slides over your oversensitive clit. “Oh fuck, Kishibe please. I need y- I need it, oh god.” Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Maybe he really is going to ruin you. You can’t imagine anyone else ever making you feel this good, so overwhelmed but so hungry for it.
“Good fucking girl,” he whispers, and your body lights up as he shifts back a little, the head of his cock pressing against you and easing inside your desperate walls. He grins as your arms wrap around his shoulders, lips searching for his as your hips try to squirm deeper onto his cock. He meets you in a deep kiss, but he grips your hips firmly, sliding deeper into your clenching pussy at his own content pace, groaning into your mouth at how hot and wet you are. So tight, so so tight, that he can’t stop the juvenile thought about being sure you were a virgin from flitting through his mind, but he lets it go, not about to sully this experience for you with his own pussy drunk stupidity, closing his eyes and falling deeper into the kiss, forcing you to slow it and calm down for him, echoing your whimpers with tiny groans of encouragement.
His thrusts are as steady and measured as they can be with the way your walls suck him in, pussy lips stretched wide around the thicker middle of his shaft. Every time he pulls out he can feel the way your body is trying not to let him go, and every sink home is accompanied by a shaky little exhale from you that sets a fire so deep in his gut that Kishibe is sure the whiskey is the only reason he hasn’t fallen to pieces yet. You’re so pretty and needy sprawled about beneath him, so sunk to pleasure that you’ve resigned to just taking what he gives you and it’s addictive. His cock throbs as he listens to your mumbled little slurs about how good it feels, and he has to pause, breathing deep and hard as he wills down a sudden and fierce urge fill you with cum.
Kishibe chuckles as he sits up and you let out a whine of disapproval, but a slow roll of his hips changes your tune immediately. You’re sucking him in greedily, your clit swollen and damn near begging for attention. He brushes it gently with the back of his knuckles, hissing as you squeeze him in response, getting impossibly wetter around his length. “Doing so good for me, how are you feeling?”
“More, want more.” It’s barely intelligible with how breathless you are, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes down your temples. Your face is so sweet, so open, trusting and needy and suddenly Kishibe can’t find it in himself to draw it out on you any longer, is done handing out pleasure piece by piece, as if he were passing out candy to savor. He wants to pour pleasure over you, wants you to drown in it, to fall so deeply into it that there’s nowhere to surface to, lost in an endless sea.
One strong arm slides under your hips and pulls you up into a better position, fingers digging into your hip as Kishibe begins to fuck you in quick, steady strokes. His forehead is pressed to your chest, cheek in plush of your breast as he controls his groans, a dark satisfaction choking out the last tendrils of guilt as your fingers desperately weave their way back into his hair once more, cradling his head tightly to your chest. There’s no more irritation; the sharp sting feels like a fucking prize, knowing that the price is an overwhelming pleasure that he can feel through you. You feel so good around him, responding so well to his movements, angling your own hips and moving back into his thrusts, that he can’t stop a continuous stream of curses and praises from melting into your skin.
“You’re doing so fucking good for me sweetheart, so good. Squeezing me so tight, wrapped around me so perfect. You feel good? Everything you fucking wanted, hm?” He bites at the flesh of your chest as you tighten around his dick, goosebumps rising visibly across your skin.
You feel like a live current, so electric and buzzing with energy and it feels like there’s nowhere for it to go, zipping up and down your body only to return, shivering and sparking deep in your belly. You try to articulate that this is way more than you ever thought you could ask for, but all that comes out are bitten hiccups of his name and yes and please please please.
Kishibe is more than happy to oblige, grunting and groaning in his throat, way past the point of feeling guilty that you’re losing your virginity on a goddamn couch, too caught up in your drunken slurs, more from pleasure than whiskey.
He grins as your fingers clench around his bicep, scrabbling as you gasp out, "Ohh, nngh—Sir wait, wait! Please I'm gonna—"
"Go ahead, sweetheart." Kishihe groans, feeling the rippling constrictions of your sweet pussy drag him closer to the edge.
"No, I'm—I'm gonna pee! Please."
Kishibe’s s head picks up off your chest immediately, and his thrusts stuffer. "Yeah?" You watch panting as his eyes sharpen, hips coming to a full blessed stop. You feel a bare moment of relief before its ripped away and he's moving again, fucking you a little faster than before. "Then go ahead."
You give a wordless cry, shame and pleasure clamoring in the shrill note, your head shaking back and forth in denial. You can't hold it, not if he does that.
"No?" Kishibe feels like the Devil himself as he shifts his angle into a grind, still fast and controlled, watching your features twist as you keep fighting to hold it back. "Am I not making you feel good?"
"Sir!" Your whine draws the title out, panicked, but your knees dig tightly into his hips, your body at least betraying you. Kishibe works a hand under one of your thighs and presses it towards your chest. One of his palms drags down over your tits, stroking down your stomach to put a gentle pressure over your pelvis. Your eyes fly wide and a moan is forced from your lips as the awful urgency thickens, bliss flooding close to the surface.
"If I press here you won't be able to stop it."
Kishibe's stare catches your glazed eyes, dark and hungry. His orgasm is approaching steadily now, pleasure whispering selfish instruction in his ear, and he's unable to help but listen. "You'll come so hard it won't matter anymore. What's a little mess for some pleasure, hm sweetheart? If you want it just tell me."
Your breath catches. His dick keeps hitting that spot in you that makes it impossible to think rationally. He's making you feel so good, goading you in that voice of his that you've worshipped fervently night after night in your apartment, a pillow as your altar.
The voice in your head is screaming no. It's pee. He'll think you're disgusting and you look up to him so much. You don't want him to associate you with something like this, to so thoroughly debase yourself. But he's making you feel amazing, his cock bullying all your softest parts with undefinable experience. You've heard the gossip about how your mentor likes to spend his nights, but how are you supposed to complain when he's making you feel like this? And he's the one saying you can p—
"Get outta yer fucking head and come for me, girl." Kishibe growls through his teeth, palm pressing down firmly, calloused thumb spreading over your neglected clit.
You shatter and cry out, clutching at him tightly, no room for apologies as you tear red lines down his back. Warmth gushes against his pelvis, but the hot shame holds no candle to the blistering pleasure crackling across all your nerves. Listening to Kishibe groan and curse, the feel of him breaking down into something more genuine as his hips snap roughly into yours in chase of the bliss you’re already neck deep in, you’ve never felt more satisfied. He finishes inside you with a deep grunt and your insides flutter again at the milky warmth, your leg curling tight around his ass because you want all of it, you don’t want it to end yet.
But finally, his cock twitches one last time inside you and begins to soften, and Kishibe collapses on top of you with a little puff. You’re damn near ready to purr in happiness at the full weight of him across your body. His cheek rests between your breasts, but you’re unbothered by the scratch of his stubble as his breathing gets deeper, steadier.
Both of you are covered in sweat, cum, and other unspeakables but you’ve never been so comfortable. His softened cock slips out of you, and one of his arms slips under your waist and you feel your heart thud unevenly as he moves to his side and pulls you closer. His head is still buried in your chest, your one leg tangled between his thighs and your other draped over his hip. His eyes are closed, breathing deep and you find it in yourself to cautiously run your fingers through his hair. Kishibe gives a soft, sleepy rumble of contentment and you glow.
The feel of his hair between your fingers is the last thing you remember before the most luxurious drag of sleep tempts you into its clutch of darkness.
You wake somewhere you don’t recognize, your head thick and pounding awfully. You blink slowly in the low lighting and try to sit up, but your head spins and the pain increases so you let yourself fall back with a low whimper.
You turn on your side, fingers curling into the soft covers over you. Last night had been amazing, but you’re certain you had passed out on on the couch, and as you peer around the curtain-darkened room, it’s easy to tell it’s not the same. You don’t remember being moved; you’d like to say you would have woken up if someone had, but even you can smell the alcohol seeping from your pores.
Heart pounding unevenly, you try to calm yourself. You’d been dressed in a soft pair of boxer briefs and a tshirt far too large for you, and while you still feel a little bit sticky, you honestly had expected far worse—someone had tried to clean you up. Your heart starts to race now, fluttering and far too fast at the idea of Kishibe taking care of you. Those are a lot of extra steps to take for someone who preached respectable distance.
“There’s painkillers on the nightstand.”
You finally manage to sit up at the promise of pain relief, seeing the foil tablets and a glass of water, and glance at Kishibe in the doorway, looking about as disheveled as you expect you do. He’s in a loose tshirt and a soft, worn looking pair of sleep pants, blinking sleep and liquor from his eyes as he peers in at you.
“I’m gonna shower, you should too. There’s towels in the bathroom there.” He nods his head deeper into your room and you see another doorway, probably leading to the bathroom. “And you’re out of luck on breakfast. All the place has is coffee and water.”
Your stomach gives a displeased turn at that, desperate for something to offset last night’s alcohol. Before you can say anything, not even so much as a thank you, Kishibe turns and shuffles down the hall.
Slowly, you ease out of the bed and gratefully swallow down half the water before even glancing at the pills, but your screaming head does make sure you toss them back as well, before you peek down the hallway your mentor had disappeared down. You hear the sound of running water and follow it, wandering through the doorway to the room he obviously slept in last night, the bed an unkempt mess of blankets. The door to the bathroom is closed, and there’s already steam filtering through the gaps.
Letting an uncharacteristic determination carry you forward, you open the door and begin stripping off your clothes.
“Get out, sweetheart.” Kishibe’s voice sounds tired and distant, filling you with nerves that you refuse to let show on your face as you ignore him slip into the shower.
He’s working soap through his hair, leveling you with a deeply unimpressed look that would have sent you skittering before last night, before he called you his sweet little mess, before he called you good fucking girl. You take a deep breath and speak your mind.
"I want that again."
His response is flat, immediate. "Not gonna happen."
"Why not? Was it not good?" You look embarrassed and distraught at the thought and Kishibe heaves a sigh.
"How good it was has nothin’ to do with why we can't do this again."
“So you regret it?”
Kishibe isn’t sure where he stands on that yet. “Didn’t say that.”
"But then..."
"But what? I told you this was a bad idea didn't I? You should've chosen someone else. Anyone other than me."
You get a little salty at that. "I might be younger than you," Kishibe gives a sardonic huff "—but I'm still old enough to make decisions for myself."
"Old enough to make your own decisions, huh."
You shift under the water as he gives you a tired stare, his gaze sharpening into something more contemplative, glinting dangerously.
"So you're saying you want that again?" Kishibe questions calmly.
"Yes," you whisper, uncaring if it makes you sound desperate.
"If we do I've got some stipulations," he warns, voice low.
"Like what," your breath hitches as he leans closer, the water getting hotter against your back as he reaches past you to adjust the temperature.
"Well for starters," he grumbles, "I don't have any interest in going to your place. It's here or nothing."
"Fine." Your response is immediate, relief coloring your tone that you're not being immediately shut out.
"And this arrangement will be temporary, no matter how long it goes on," Kishibe continues slowly, his fingers coming up to pinch your lips together, cutting off whatever you were opening your mouth to say. "I'm not the kind of man that would treat ya like you're nothin'. I'm gonna tell you you're sexy when I've got you under me and I'm gonna clean up whatever mess I make of you, so I need to know you're not going to confuse common decency and respect with love, got it?"
You nod slowly, struggling to wrap your mind around the weight of his words. What he doesn't know won't hurt him, you just want more of whatever you can get. It's just a crush, maybe you'll figure out how to squash your feelings somewhere down the line. So you get a little hurt along the way, so what? You're not entirely sure how any of that is a problem and why he looks so serious.
"Anything else?" He hasn't spoken for a minute, but you can still see deep thought etched into his expression.
Kishibe glances at you, soap dripping from his hair down his neck. "Yeah, one more thing."
It's the most damning thing. Makima herself would be proud of him for this. This kind of thing is more her style, but he's already made it this far.
"Ya have to join the civilian sector."
He senses more than feels you stiffen behind him, closing his eyes and beginning to rinse his hair out as he waits for you to speak first. He's not blind, not anymore—after last night he'd really have to be to not understand the way you've been looking at him, probably since the beginning. Kishibe doesn't know how he didn't see it sooner, probably willful ignorance. But his eyes have been opened and he can't unsee it; you're a brat; you wear your heart on your sleeve, and for whatever reason…its flag is flying his colors. So he's going to use that, and you can thank him when you survive the year.
"Join the civilian sector?" Your voice trembles.
Kishibe glances down to see you chewing your lower lip. "Or quit. Find a cozy desk job somewhere. Either works."
"Why?" Your demand is fierce but it's weak; you look like a scruffy little kitten that needs shelter but too scared to come out of the rain. Kishibe can see you crumbling already, making his final stab. Why you'd want him this bad is beyond him, but dirty tactics have never been beneath him.
"If we're doin’ this, you're going to be available to me when I want you. Otherwise I can find others, like I've been doing. Finish up in here, and I'll make some coffee. Might as well go to the office together."
Despair crosses your features, and Kishibe lets the silence do the last of the work, stepping out of the stream and reaching for a towel. He makes quick work of drying off and getting dressed, bones aching for coffee. Curiosity pangs deep in his nerves as he wonders why killing yourself in Public Safety is even worth that expression, and why he’s equally as important as whatever it is. He tries to put it out of his mind and fails, fingers tapping on the expensive countertop.
As the coffee percolates, Kishibe hears the water shut off and the mental image of you stepping out of his shower flickers through his mind, ghosting along the memories of the way you felt beneath him last night. He tries and fails to admit to himself he’s not coming out entirely on top in this situation.
When you finally slip into his kitchen, dressed in your crumpled uniform from last night, you’re no longer wearing that brokenhearted little face, and Kishibe braces himself for whatever little pep talk you managed to give yourself while he was gone. He pushes a mug towards you and the sugar he somehow found while he was waiting.
“I have my own stipulations,” you grumble finally, accepting the mug without looking at him, spooning sugar into it. He wants to wince at the shriek of metal on glass as you stir, but he doesn’t.
“If I have to quit the hunter society to be ‘available to you’, then you have to be available to me.” Your eyes are a little heated as they finally meet his, and Kishibe gives a noncommittal hum. “Meaning you don’t get to sleep around. Just with me.”
Ah. Makima would be proud of you too, Kishibe muses to himself. He decides to let you feel that victory and puts on a show, feigning annoyance. He drums his fingers on the counter and gives you a dry, measured look. “What, sweetheart, want me to get tested or something?”
You rise to his bait, snapping a little. “Maybe that’s a good idea.”
“Fine.” He shrugs and sips his coffee. “Maybe you should too, since you’re so worried about my health.”
Embarrassment burns your cheeks at the thought of making that appointment, but you push through it. “Fine, I will. I’ll be needing to get on birth control anyways.” The barest hint of shock flickers through his expression before he slams it back to its usual tired smirk.
“Anything else?” He asks, sarcasm barely kissing the edge of his tone.
Your thoughts scramble to all the things you’d listed to yourself in the shower but with him looking at you like that, bemused, confident, smug, you forget most of them. You latch onto one thing and give him a glare. “I get a key. And I can sleep here whenever I want. I’m not waiting outside in the cold to be your booty call.”
Kishibe gives you a look and starts to pull a pen out of his jacket but changes his mind. He watches all the bravado and irritation drain from your expression as he steps into your space, melting into something else, something expectant, electric. He pretends he doesn’t see it, pretends that his blood doesn’t pick up at the sight of it, and whispers the passcode to the apartment, so close to your ear that he could bite it. Could.
He pulls back and listens to your shuddering exhale, tilting your chin towards him. “That’s for you only. I don’t give people access to my personal space, got it?”
You nod dumbly, eyes wide and body hot as his dark eyes flicker to your lips.
“Then I guess we gott’a deal, sweetheart.”
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
Can you do like a part three of the perv Seungmin fic, like different ways he takes advantage of you, either while your asleep or like innocent things when you feel comfy and sit on his lap but he uses it as an excuse to grind up to you, and you just don’t notice he’s doing it and he cums in his pants, or maybe you do notice and just allow it 🤤💙
yes! imma do this as like a different scenario drabbles!
(part 1 | part 2)
mdni 18+, dubcon!, noncon!somno, fem!reader, blowjob, secret masterbating (m!), brief spying mentions, humping (m!), slight public voyeurism (m!), seungmin is just nasty
when you're asleep
- seungmin has already done this before (link!) but he gets more brave overtime. he'll use his finger to see how you react, if you even do. he can manage three fingers pumping slow and deep with you waking. it makes you moan and twitch in your sleep. your juices coat his fingers down to the wrist. the most seungmin has put of his cock is the tip, maybe an extra inch but he doesn't dare to go deeper.
- he takes pretty little pictures of you covered in his cum when he's done. most of the time it's on your swollen cunt, but there are times when he finished on your face
- you actually are aware of this. after 'dreaming' of it so much, you decided to stay up extra late to see what's really going on. seungmin creaks and door open and tiptoes in, quiet as ever. you keep pretending, maybe he's just grabbing something? then you feel him stand above you, pushing your hair back from your face
- you'd peep an eye open to be shocked that he's nude from the waist down, cock hard in your face. he'll tap the tip on your lips gently, running the slit along your mouth. your lips part without meaning to, and he slowly sinks the head in.
- it's still a mystery why you didn't push him off. instead, you open your mouth just the tiniest bit so he could push more in. seungmin is none the wiser, he actually moans at your warm mouth
- he think you're just doing it in your sleep, used to sucking dick like a slut. you wonder how long it'll take before he notices your tongue stroking him willingly
cuddling
- it's standard to cuddle against seungmin during movie night. he's sitting on the sofa and you're next to him. your head leaning on his shoulders with your legs tucked into yourself, knees touching his thigh.
- drives him crazyyy he can feel your warm body, hear your steady breathing, the way you move against him. you're so pretty for him, he just has to touch himself a little
- there's a a blanket on top of you two, so it makes the perfect shield to carefully slips his cock out and stroke. to you, it just look like he might be adjusting his position, but the little jerking movements catch your attention
- the movie is a bit more entertaining though, so you ignore how much seungmin is twitching and shivering besides you. he'll lean his head against the top of yours and inhale, trying to get your scent. you smell like the shampoo he knows you uses in the shower (the cameras show seungmin everything) and it makes him cum
- he'll moan, but quickly cover it up with a cough. the blanket is thick, so you won't be able to see the wet stain underneath.
at a party
- everyone's rubbing and grinding against each other, whether it's dancing or just trying to scoot by. you can't really blame seungmin when he has to move past you, his dick rubbing your ass
- then finally when you both find a seat, you have to sit on his lap since everyone's taken up room. this is both a nightmare and dream for seungmin. he's already hard from humping against you before, you'll defo notice his erection
- if you do, you don't say anything (you do notice). instead you make sure to wiggle a little more, press down a little harder to hear seungmin groan behind you.
- he humps against you while you make conversation with the Felix who's beside you. it's so hot to him, getting to use you while you talk mindlessly. it's like he's not even there, like he's not about to cream his pants
- you ask him if he's alright though, he's breathing kinda hard and making weird noises. "yeah! sorry, just a little drunk" he'd say.
- doesn't take long before he finishes in his pants, thighs trembling. a drop of sweat trickles down from his forehead, and he claims it's just hot in the room
- even after he cums, he'll keep humping against you. he just loves how sensitive his dick is, and he can't find it in him to stop. seungmin moves a lot slower this way, and you can feel a bit of dampness between your thighs
- his arousal or your own? you'll never know
#smut#seungmin!#dark fic#skz smut#skz seungmin#stray kids#skz#stray kids smut#stray kids imagines#stray kids seungmin#skz suggestive#seungmin skz#seungmin smut#seungmin x reader#seungmin#skz imagines#skz hard thoughts#skz hard hours
372 notes
·
View notes
Text
I'm a fool (for you)
Written for the Stranger Things Writers Guild daily drabble, prompt was 'meet ugly'. I don't know what happened here.
warnings: implied cheating (not steddie) | tags: meet ugly, hurt Eddie, emotional hurt/comfort, love at first sight with the worst timing, hopeful ending | 1.2k | AO3
April is Eddie's favorite month.
Winter is finally over and spring is breathing life back into the world. With the colors of spring, happiness seeped back into people's hearts.
As Eddie walks home from work, whistling his favorite tune, his heart swells with it. The sun still shines brightly, a gentle breeze carries the scent of cherry blossoms from the nearby park, and tucked in his pocket is his very first bonus check. He can't wait to tell David, the exhilaration of a beautiful day gives him hope that maybe they can have a nice evening with some wine and dinner before falling into bed together. It's been a while, and he knows it's partly because he works so much, but lately he feels like he and David are drifting apart.
Determined to surprise David with some quality time together, Eddie plans to come home early. Perhaps they could even use the extra money for a vacation, he thinks with a smile on his face.
Filled with hope and happiness, Eddie opens the door to their apartment, only to be greeted by a sight that shatters both.
A stranger, clad in nothing but black boxer briefs, stands in their bedroom doorway.
"I'm such a fool," Eddie murmurs, blinking at the unexpected sight of an almost-naked Adonis standing in the doorway to the room he shares with the man Eddie thought loved him.
The stranger mirrors his shock. "You're not David.”
A mirthless laugh escapes Eddie's lips. "No, I'm Eddie. His boyfriend. Or rather, ex-boyfriend. Guess he forgot to mention me, huh?"
When the man just buries his face in his hands and groans, "I'm such a fucking fool," Eddie almost feels sorry for him.
Almost, because it's his heart that's just been broken.
"Looks like we both are," he agrees with the stranger. He really is beautiful. Eddie can see why David went for him, he just wishes he hadn't.
"I swear, I had no idea David had a boyfriend or I never would have gone home with him. I'm so, so sorry."
The guy looks sincere and Eddie believes him. After all, it was David who decided to trample on their relationship. It must suck to be drawn into the drama of Eddie's imploding relationship, less cause and more casualty.
Closing the door behind him, Eddie steps fully into the apartment. "I believe you -" he pauses here, waiting for the man to tell him his name.
"Steve."
"I believe you, Steve. Where's David, by the way?"
"Buying condoms," he admits sheepishly, and Eddie rubs his hands over his face.
"Of course. How awfully considerate of him." Steve winces at Eddie's tone, but he's too tired to care. He takes a moment to think about what to do next. "I think it's best if you get dressed and leave now, I doubt you'll want to be here when David gets back. To be honest, I don't want to either, but I guess there's not much of a choice."
Steve looks at him silently for a second before turning and going back into the bedroom, presumably to get dressed. Eddie sighs and heads over to the kitchen to make himself some coffee. He's going to need it.
He's thinking about where he could stay tonight when Steve comes into the kitchen, now dressed in tight, light-washed Levi's and a white shirt that looks painted on. Eddie can even see the dark chest hair through it.
It's hard not to hate Steve for making Eddie feel even more inadequate.
"I know you want me to go, but if it's okay with you, I'd rather stay? Just to make sure you're okay. I've been cheated on before and I know what it's like to feel like the rug has been pulled out from under you. You shouldn't have to deal with it alone."
It's hard to hate Steve when he's so kind to Eddie.
"Do I look so pathetic that I need the man my boyfriend cheated on me with to comfort me?" He spits, more out of self-preservation than anything else. Anger is so much easier to deal with than heartbreak.
Steve's response, however, is gentle. "You look like someone just broke your heart and you could use a friend. It doesn't have to be me, I can take you to one of your friends. I just don't think you should be alone right now." With that, Steve walks over to the coffee machine and pours out a cup. "Sugar? Cream?"
Eddie plops down on one of the kitchen chairs in defeat. "Both. More sugar."
Steve prepares their coffee and then they wait for David to get back. When he does, clearly shocked to find his boyfriend and his hookup in the same room, they both confront him. Steve has Eddie's back the whole time and gets downright mean to David, while Eddie is mostly tired and disappointed. After their confrontation, Steve waits for Eddie to pack some of his things and, as promised, drives Eddie over to Chrissy's apartment.
They park in front of her building and Eddie thanks Steve for everything he's done for him, but before he can get out, Steve takes Eddie's hand and squeezes it.
"I'm really sorry, Eddie. Nobody deserves to get cheated on and I hate that it happened to you. I can understand if you want to be mad at me or forget I even exist, but if you ever need to talk, even if it's just about how small David's dick is, I'm here, okay?"
In the palm of his hand, Eddie feels a piece of paper, and he's pretty sure it's Steve's number.
"Why?"
Steve reaches over and tucks a lock of Eddie's hair behind his ear. "You'll probably think I'm weird, but I feel like I almost know you. It sounds crazy, I know, I know. I can’t explain it. I just want you to be happy, and I can't help but want to be the person who makes that happen."
At Eddie's stunned silence, he hastily adds, "Oh God, I sound like a crazy person. Or worse, a psycho stalker. I promise, I'm neither. And that's exactly what a psycho stalker would say, for Christ's sake. Please say something before I put my foot any further in my mouth."
This makes Eddie laugh again, and this time it doesn't sound bitter. Just a little confused, but mostly fond.
"Thank you, Steve. Really. I appreciate it. You... I have no idea what I'm feeling right now, or what I'm going to do, but you've made this totally fucked up evening suck less, and for that alone I don't want to forget that you exist or be mad at you. I just need some time, y'know?"
Steve's smile is warm, if a little sad. "I do. You should. Take your time, I mean. I really wish we'd met differently."
"Me too. Believe me."
Eddie starts to get out of the car again, and this time Steve doesn't stop him. Just watches him, his hazel eyes shining brightly in the light of the street lamp.
"Take care, Eddie."
"You too, Steve."
As Eddie climbs the stairs to Chrissy's apartment, he saves Steve's number in his phone.
#steddie#steddie fanfiction#stranger things fanfiction#stwgdailyprompt#cw: cheating#(it's not between steddie and it's only implied/referenced)#my writing#I have no idea what this is I wanted to write something cute and funny but this is not that#I am sorry
214 notes
·
View notes
Text
KISS IT BETTER !
ao'nung x metkayina reader.
a/n — sorry guys it's been a reallyyy rough past few days some shit has gone down but here's a lil drabble while i finish a fic 🫶 / also they're like 18 in this for sake of plot !
—
To say you and Ao'nung didn't get along would be an understatement.
You two always argued, no matter how little or how big. From the way your hair was done, to who couldn't hold their breath as long, who was better on an ilu, you name it.
Though, despite you not being able to see eye to eye with him, you were always close with his younger sister. You were attached to the hip ever since children, and you spent practically your whole lives with each other, pretty much growing up together. You also grew close with her family, spending many dinners over at her marui.
So of course, you always had to see her brother.
Tsireya wasn't blind. Pretty much anyone could see the way you two acted around each other. And if they couldn't see it, they could certainly hear it. There wasn't a minute you could be in the same vicinity as each other and not throw insults at each other.
However, nobody really knows how or why you're like that. It's almost as if you were born into the world and just decided to hate each other.
And so you're sitting in between Tsireya's legs, her doing a new hairstyle for your hair and you whining about her brother once more. "I just don't get it," you complained, huffing in annoyance. "He really thinks he can insult me with a face like that! 'You'll never be able to get a boyfriend looking like that, y/n'," you gruffly mimicked, inaccurately impersonating his voice. "As if he's any better! Like you're the one who can't keep a girlfriend. He's projecting, I'm telling you."
Pulling extra tight on a certain braid you yelped, glaring over your shoulder. "Y/n, you seriously have a problem," Tsireya stated, sighing. "I mean if you really hate my brother so much, just don't talk to him. You both are around each other a lot for people who claim to hate each other so much."
"It's not my fault!" You quickly replied. "I swear, he's everywhere. I want to go clear my mind and go for a swim? He's already there. I want to feed the ilus? Apparently he was planning on going on a ride. I want to stop by and have dinner with my best friend? He-"
"Lives there, Y/n. He lives there," Tsireya finished for you. "I'm just saying. He may be my brother, but if he pisses you off that much you don't have to talk to him. He's good at riling people up. Especially you." She commented, finishing your hair and patting your shoulder lightly for you to turn around.
"He could piss anyone off with the things he says," You grumbled, shoulders drooping when you fell under Tsireya's disapproving gaze. "Fine. I'll try to not let him get to me. Starting now."
"Oh that's lovely, because he's right behind you."
"What-"
"Hi sister," he paused, eyes glancing to you in distaste. "Y/n."
"Ao'nung." You acknowledged him blandly, trying to take your friend's advice and not be disturbed by his mere presence.
"Mother wants you home for dinner," He continued, letting out a sigh before going on. "They invited you too." He finished, not sparring a glance your way before turning around and walking back.
"That went better than expected." Tsireya grinned, grabbing your arm and taking you to her own marui.
"Wait until dinner."
Dinner was going better than expected. You and Ao'nung hadn't argued yet, considering you chose to ignore him and he did the same. Your parents had joined the dinner as well, so you had no other choice but to be respectful.
Your calm nature soon disappeared as you heard the words coming from your parents mouths.
"What?" You exclaimed in disbelief, Tsireya sitting next to you with a shocked expression.
"Really, we think it's for the best."
"No offense or anything, but have you met Ao'nung? I can barely stay in the same room with him, nevertheless spend the rest of my life with him!" You complained, ignoring the stern looks from your parents. "It won't work. Me and Ao'nung, we don't work well together."
"For once, I agree." The boy finally spoke, not looking up from the table.
"Y/n, Ao'nung, I know this is unexpected, but we've all talked about it. You would make a great mate for Ao'nung. We'd like you two to be mated soon before Ao'nung chooses a girl us or the clan would not approve of."
You noticed how his jaw clenched at the comment, yet he stayed silent. You closed your eyes, trying to accept your fate. When you both fell silent, everyone got up and started to exit the room. "We'll give you two some privacy."
You watched as they all left out the marui, turning towards the male. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"It's my mother, I doubt anything I would've said would have made a difference."
"Of course it would! You're her son!"
"You're just so stubborn, aren't you?" Ao'nung suddenly shouted, standing up now. "Thinking you can have everything your way? We have duties, y/n. Grow up."
"Clearly, I'm the only one who's thinking rationally right now! How can you be willing to spend the rest of your life with someone you can't stand?"
"Well like it or not, it's happening. Deal with it, because you're not going to change our parents' minds."
"I can't believe you," you scoffed. "I hope they don't expect me to love you. I can't see who would." You walked out furiously, stomping back towards your own marui.
"Oh, you're one to talk!"
The next few days you two kept your separate ways, but both of you knew your parents wouldn't let it stay like that. They'd practically set up a date for you guys, claiming it's so you could 'settle the feud'.
So you woke up, already in a bad mood, putting minimal effort into getting ready. You headed outside your marui, grumbling what sounded like a farewell to your parents, blood boiling at the sight of the boy who was waiting for you on the beach.
"Y/n." He gruffly greeted you, not meeting your eye.
"Ao'nung." You acknowledged him back, mind drifting back to the other night. Were you too harsh with your words? It was possible you could've gotten caught up in the heat of the moment, and if you were forced to spent the rest of your life with him, you should at least try to be civil.
"...how are you?" You inwardly cringed at yourself, making an awkward attempt to make conversation.
He sent a questioning look your way, realizing what you were doing. He almost wanted to laugh at how out of place you looked. He decided to play along, for whatever reason. "Okay. You?"
"I'm good."
The both of you didn't talk much for the rest of the day, but you didn't argue either, so maybe you were showing signs of improvement. You walked along the beach quietly, the occasional tight-lipped smile, or a hum in response to one of your or his attempts to make some small talk.
Your hangouts usually went like that, you'd greet each other and walk, tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. You were too scared to say anything about it, or change the newly made routine, until Ao'nung seemingly had enough.
"Y/n," he sighed out tiredly, stopping and turning to face you fully. "This isn't helping us at all. All we're trying to do is not argue every time we're around each other. We're not fixing anything, hell, we're probably making it worse. Even if we can't love each other, shouldn't we be able to get to know one another?"
You stood silent for a moment, considering his offer. "I hate it when you're right," you deadpanned, dropping the 'nice' act. "It's just so irregular. Why would I want to be stuck with you?"
"Cmon, I struck peace and you're insulting me?" He teased, flashing a rare grin to you.
"Stop smiling, people are gonna start thinking you want to be around me." You told him, walking off.
Ao'nung went after you, chuckling to himself. "I won't make it a habit then!"
To everyone's surprise, you were finally starting to get along. You acted like friends, even if neither of you would necessarily admit it. You were spending your time with Tsireya, deeming you'd spent too much time with her brother.
"I can't believe I actually saw you smiling in the vicinity of Ao'nung." She teased, laughing once you rolled your eyes.
"Oh shut up. We're basically going to be with each other for eternity, we had to stop hating each other at some point."
"He was talking about you the other day at dinner, actually. If I didn't know any better I'd say he's taken a liking to you."
"Absolutely not!" You denied, shaking your head. "We're not like that. Like at all. We're just friends now, okay? We don't see each other that way."
"Whatever you say."
What the two of you didn't notice, however, was that the boy heard the two of you talking, heart slightly sinking. Could you really not tell how he felt?
And oddly enough, he felt even more determined to prove how he did.
To your shock, Ao'nung started making advances towards you during your scheduled hang outs. They were subtle, but you noticed the slight flirting, or how his touch would linger on you longer than usual.
You didn't think much of it however, considering you just went from enemies to friends in the span of maybe two weeks. You were right to do so, when you spotted him with another girl one day.
When you first saw them, you really could've cared less. Ao'nung was popular, and knew many people. If he had friends who were girls, it didn't matter. Everyone knew you were each others promised mates, and the word quickly spread since people knew of your dislike for each other.
You trusted Ao'nung, he was not only your betrothed but your duties were to each other, and he wasn't dumb enough to try and change that.
At least you thought.
Their second interaction, you saw the same girl, Mau. She was a sweet girl, you knew her through Tsireya. You watched quietly from afar as the two talked animatedly, large smiles and their laughter heard from where you stood. You hid behind a smaller palm tree, it's leaves shielding you from their view.
You couldn't quite hear what their conversation was, so you settled for just watching. You were shocked when she pressed a kiss to his cheek, and how he turned purple in response. You denied how you felt your heart drop to your stomach, and deemed that their conversation should be private and hurried to leave.
In the midst of rushing out you accidentally walked right into one of the leaves, your lip getting cut in the process. "Oh, fuck." You cursed underneath your breath, hoping no one could see you leave. You sprinted away to another part of the beach, moving over to the marui near the ilus.
Ao'nung squinted his eyes at the sight of someone running away, thinking it oddly resembled you. A wave of adrenaline quickly hit him when he realized you might have seen Mau, and he jumped up in panic. "I'm so sorry, I have to go." He excused himself, rushing after you.
He found you with the ilus, smiling when he heard you talking nonsense to them. He cleared his throat, "You seriously have got to make some new friends."
You froze at his voice, almost turning around but realizing he'd see the wound on your lip. You stayed in place, back turned to him as you kept feeding the creatures. "Don't be salty I have more friends than you, even if they can't talk."
"In your dreams, hun," He teased, sitting down next to you, confused when you turned away from him. Concerned, and a little scared you saw his previous interaction, his head followed yours, trying to meet your eyes. "What's wrong?"
You pursed your lips, turning around and eyes widening when you realized how close his face was to yours. Afraid of talking and showing him your cut you only shrugged, shaking your head.
"Why are you holding your lips like that?" He questioned, making you hot with panic. "It makes you look even more stupid."
"Oh just shut up." You mumbled, figuring there was no way out of this. You lowered your head, but not before he could see your wound.
"What happened?"
You really just wanted to let the ocean swallow you whole.
"I ran into a tree."
"While eavesdropping?" He laughed, seeing the way your head quickly perked up, the caught look on your face.
"I didn't- I mean-"
"Oh don't worry, I know you were just questioning my loyalty. I mean with a face like this, there's loads of girls after me. Had to break many hearts knowing I was promised to you."
"Keep telling yourself that. And if I was testing your loyalty, you definitely failed. Not that I mind, but who lets other girls kiss them when they're promised to someone else?"
"If you're jealous, just say that," he simply shrugged, smirking at you. "I turned Mau down, by the way. Told her I was already to be mated with another."
"Oh," you couldn't help but let out a breath of relief. "Your parents will be happy to hear that."
Rolling his eyes at your ability to not take a hint, he only sighed. "Yeah, sure."
Ao'nung then refocused on your lips, looking at the cut. "You know, we should really do something about that."
"It doesn't hurt that much."
"You should let me kiss it better."
"What?" You exclaimed, looking at him incredulously.
"You heard me."
Not bothering to hear your response his lips pressed against yours gently, in fear of making the cut any worse. His hand came to rest against your jaw as his lips moved slowly. You felt him smile against you before he quickly pecked your lips again, pulling away with a smug look. "Feel any better?"
"I'm not sure, you might have to kiss it better again."
—
a/n — I FINALLY POSTED AGAIN. WRITERS BLOCK IS A BITCH.
#aonung fluff#aonung angst#avatar x reader#avatar#ao'nung#aonung x reader#ao'nung x y/n#ao'nung x reader#ao'nung x you#avatar fluff#aonung#avatar imagine#avatar angst#avatar fic#i'm sorry if this is dogshit#i'm going through a slump#like i couldn't WRITE
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Okay but imagine:
Neteyam and Lo’ak both falling in love with reader after seeing her threaten Tuk and Kiri’s bullies and seeing her become close friends with their sisters and them both pining over her from a distance but never actually talking to reader and driving Jake crazy until her smacks some sense into both of them
♡. "king(s) of your heart" —
synopsis / in which the sully brothers are head over heels for you.
gn!reader | this is basically headcanons on a polygamous relationship between the sully brothers. polygamy is where two or more people share one person and only one person. they dont love eachother romantically. it is 1:40 am and I'm tired. yes that is a taylor swift reference in the title. lotsa words
i am a firm believer that these boys like girls who, although kind, are still rough around the edges in some way. they see you cussing out aonung and his possé? instant attraction. instant. like *snap* instant. they see you playing with children and chasing them around? instant INSTANT infatuation. no joke. literally down bad seven seconds in.
thus, it starts the pining.
you start seeing little trinkets next to you, coincidentally left by the wind ( or by neteyam's tail swooping them into your vicinity ) — but still, you love them. you keep them. you cherish them. neteyam is ecstatic and lo'ak is NOT having that
lo'ak starts giving you a bunch of well thought out gifts. from afar. he steals the method his brother uses. his brother is pissed. jake sees this. is entertained at first. but then it just gets boring and he has to go all military dad on them.
"you two love them is what I'm seeing. you two love them so bad it's disgusting. am I correct?"
"yes sir."
"...good. you three remind me of me and your mother. but, if you keep on going like this, just pining over them without them knowing who you even are, then you'll never get them to be yours. your mother and I agree on polygamy being alright, but we also agreed on you two being cowards. ask them on a date. both of you. figure something out. I will not have cowards as sons. okay? okay. now go get 'em."
that half encouraging speech half scolding was EXACTLY what they needed. they settled everything aside, realized that love triangles were for white people, and instead settled on a polygamous relationship between you and them, based off of communication and shared love.
#bondingbrothers
the only problem was getting you to accept both of them... so let's go depending on your species,
if you're a human, you'd probably be more open to the idea which is obvious considering that humanity has always had polygamy in its history. so, it'd be easier for you to accept, and you do.
if you're a na'vi, a race that is canonically and strictly monogamous— you'd be conflicted. you wouldn't know whether or not this was right, except, you would follow your heart, in the end, wouldn't you? you'd be theirs as quick as a human would be. primarily because I know all of you are down bad for the sully brothers. it would be near impossible for a na'vi to enter a polygamous/amorous relationship canonically.
alright, im in the mood for a mini drabble, aren't you? ( featuring dreamwalker , aka , human reader !)
"...what???" you breathed, confused. you had been caught off guard, initially, with how you'd been receiving trinket after trinket both in your avatar and out— and honestly , you thought it just couldn't get anymore surprising.
it did.
somehow, the culprit, or rather, the culprits, were the sons of Jake Sully, who is ... alot of honorable things. so , naturally , you're confused.
"we know that we like you, y/n— and we heard that polygamy was practiced amongst humans... so, you know, we wanted to see if you were for it." neteyam started, and lo'ak continued. "but if ya aren't—"
"oh I'm for it. I'm for this." you interjected. "just.. why me??"
they looked relieved but also offended at how you judged their tastes. how dare you , how could you not be confident in yourself !?!? absolutely unacceptable.
they'll love you until you're able to love yourself, and after that.
"excuse me-uh!" lo'ak gasped, his offense shown. "I will have you know that you are not just you??? where do you get that from?!? you're someone whose struggled through so much stuff and you're so strong and—" "
"quiet, skxawng." neteyam shushed, and lo'ak glared but reluctantly obliged. neteyam awkwardly coughed into his hand, picking up the pieces his brother dropped. "what we're saying is that— you're ... pretty cool. so, be ours?"
"but only if you want to!" lo'ak interrupted once again, then his head snapped to neteyam— "what'd i do?!" he said, as his brother punched him ( gently. ) they bickered, and bickered - and bickered. that is until your snicker caught them both stilling.. they smiled, knowing that they had both made you smile— and you laughed.
"you're both idiots!"
they took that as a yes, and it was.
ALRIGHT IM TIRED OF BUILDING THE RELATIONSHIP ITS TIME TO ACTUALLY GIVE YOU A PEAK ON THE OFFICIAL RELATIONSHIP except we'll take it one step at a time <3
— early days
first things first, things get so awkward between you guys ! this is your first relationship. this is neteyams first relationship. this is also lo'aks first relationship. and it's a polygamous relationship! it would've been a lot of work to communicate in the earlier days, especially since lo'ak and neteyam butt heads constantly.
lo'ak and neteyam are constantly planning fancy dates to surprise you, which can also double as brotherly hang outs, yeah, but they're so focused on wooing you in their own ways they forget to compromise and find a way both of them can woo you.
of course, you see this, and reassure them that hey— you don't have to spend this much time to make me happy! you guys already do by merely existing (and it is definitely not because the "y/n" we are speaking about is a reader insert and every reader is down BAD bad for the sully brothers)!
naturally, that doesn't solve the problem.
what solves the problem is you sitting down with them to communicate. you all guide eachother to a compromise, something that suits all of you. the brothers agree on an alternating schedule. one day would be a day where you'd just chill with primarily lo'ak, and one day would be a day where you'd just chill with primarily neteyam. however, Sundays? Sundays are bonding time between the three of you it's like a date! neteyam and you, lo'ak and you, and then its like reconnecting and bonding between brothers when it comes to lo'ak and neteyam.
the schedule worked well for you guys! neteyam could do his own thing, so could lo'ak, and they'd only have to cooperate for one day, which would still strengthen their relationship! also, you'd be showered in love all day!
perfect !!!!
— getting to know eachother better
naturally, they were not born on earth. you weren't either, but nonetheless— as a human, you know more about humanity than they ever will. especially since you keep yourself updated on trends & history & human literature — so naturally, they feed you information while you feed them information.
you tell them stories of human mythology and they stand in awe at how complex humanity can be in many other ways besides weapons. there is more to humanity than what meets the eye, and you show them that. you bring them local human foods like fries because I am a firm believer that the lab has an artificial garden that grows potatoes. they are in awe. they love fries. I hope you love fries too, reader. personally fries are the only thing I can imagine eating besides noodles.
other than the difference in species and the fact they're curious about your differences— they're also curious about you in general.
what is your deal? what makes you tick? what makes you happy? what has you absolutely excited? they hope you indulge them, and you hope they indulge you.
— general headcanons
neteyam prefers to keep affection private— the most you'll get from him is a forehead touch or kiss, and maybe a tail wrapped around your waist.
loak however is the opposite. kiss him, hug him, climb him, he'll absorb everything like a sponge. he's for pda 100% he will take any chance to show people he loves you more than he could love anyone else.
neteyam and lo'ak, ever the competitive siblings, love to compete in things — racing eachother, sparring with eachother, you name it— they're doing it and all in the hope of impressing you.
they're also very protective of you, in and out of your avatar body. you fall off a branch? "LO'AK GET THE FIRST AID KIT—" "GOT IT!" "GUYS ITS JUST A BRUISE—"
naturally, Jake is supportive of your relationship. he's seen alot of polygamy and polyamory in his lifetime, and he's not against it. he's all for it actually!! Jake Sully Number 1 LGBTQ+ Ally on Pandora. he rolls with the lgbtqia+ plus , guys. every moment. like, not to call people out but have you seen max patel???? that man is MORE THAN JUST AN ALLY and also it's quite literally 2100s. come on now. you can't tell me he wouldn't be an ally.
the siblings are willing to learn more about polygamy and welcome you with open arms! kiri is basically your best friend — tuk is the one child you swore to protect like seven seconds into meeting her. spider and you, both being human, are also friends! you exchange stories with eachother and also bicker alot!!
you cant expect neytiris support to be more than just advice or knowing looks. personally, I think she's more open minded than people take for. I have no evidence. I'm just right. she mothers you in no time.
you, lo'ak and neteyam are new to polygamy, and although no one can promise a peaceful ride— you could care less.
you can get through anything with eachother.
#neteyam x reader#lo'ak x reader#lo'ak#neteyam#neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan#neteyam sully#neteyam sully x reader#jake sully x reader#neytiri x reader#kiri#tuktirey#awow x reader#awow#awow neteyam#awow lo'ak#avatar lo'ak#avatar neteyam#james cameron avatar#x reader#polygamy#lo'ak x reader x neteyam#neteyam x reader x lo'ak#awow poly#awow polygamy#atwow#atwow hcs#avatar: the way of water#avatar 2 x reader#sully family
3K notes
·
View notes
Note
AHAHHAHAHSHSHHD I HAVE A REQUESTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT IF YOU DON'T MIND BUT CAN YOU DO A HUSBAND ALASTOR X CRYBABY READER
Good evening my dear! Indeed I can!
I'm on a songfic fix at the moment so hopefully you don't mind me turning this into one, if you do just let me know and I can write a proper oneshot, drabble or headcanons
Crybaby
Warnings:
Murder, Alastor being weird, mild angst, OOC, the ending is a bit muddled because lack of motivation hit me like a TRUCK.
The song I chose for obvious reasons
You seem to replace your brain with your heart, You take things so hard and then you fall apart
You always had what one would call a bleeding heart, tears would overflow at the slightest instance, you fell onto the ground? Tears, you saw a rabbit munching on a carrot? Tears fell because it was just SO cute, you sobbed as you stabbed a guy to death, blubbering out apologies saying you wouldn't have to do it if he had JUST kept his mouth shut and didn't say those awful, awful things.
You try to explain, but before you can start
You met Alastor when the two of you were alive, he was an aspiring radio host at the time and well, your father ran a rather popular radio station.
Those "Cry baby" tears come out of the dark
You were considered the favorite child, (or the only child depending on the route you go) and Alastor knew that, he wasn't above using people to climb up the social ladder.
Someone's turning the handle to that faucet in your eyes
Everything was planned out, like how the two of you met, he found out what places you frequented, choosing a cafe to be the place to run into you.
You had accidentally poured warm coffee on his clothes, you cried out apologies as you patted him dry with napkins, offering to pay for drycleaning.
You pour it out where everyone can see
And that was it, it started with him charming you, asking you out for coffee, lunch, dinners and eventually he had you hooked.
Your heart's too big for your body, it's why it won't fit inside
Him eventually catching feelings for you was just the icing on the cake, a bonus, you and him felt similarly to certain affections.
His mother quite liked you as well asking him to bring you by again when you met her the first time.
You pour it out where everyone can see
As the relationship grew, he became a prominent radio personality, eventually proposing to you leading to marriage.
They call you cry baby, cry baby
Alastor was supposed to be working late that night, you weren't expecting him to come home as you washed the blood off of your hands, blood stained the bathroom sink, dried tears leaving faint streaks on your face.
But you don't fucking care
"Mon étoile?"
You slowly turned around as if you were in a horror movie, the one person you didn't want to see you like this.
Cry baby, cry baby
You burst into tears falling onto the ground, not even trying to explain yourself, Alastor grinned and moved next to you, gently wiping away your tears taking silent joy from them.
So you laugh through your tears
You laughed as Alastor gave a light smooch onto your face.
Cry baby, cry baby
And that begun a new era of your relationship,
You'd act as bait luring in the folks you and Alastor felt like taking away their living privileges.
'Cause you don't fucking care
You lived like that for years, taking many lives, shedding many tears, a killer couple.
Tears fall to the ground
Unfortunately all good things come to an end.
You'll just let them drown
Alastor went to dispose of a body while you cleaned up the aftermath.
You'll just let them drown
The police showing up and breaking the news to you that your dearest Alastor was shot in the head and attacked by dogs shattered you.
Cry baby, cry baby
You spent your days crying, barely being able to organize a funeral that no one other then you attended, after all who would attend the funeral of a murderer.
You're all on your own and you lost all your friends
You were alone now, sure your family urged you to move back home, you were still a sweetheart with a bleeding heart to them, you just fell for Alastor's schemes, that no one saw coming.
You spent your days crying, clinging on to any remnants of Alastor, your social life took a huge hit.
You told yourself that it's not you, it's them
They whispered behind your back, theorizing if you were apart of the murders or not, if you knew, if you were truly innocent.
You're one of a kind and no one understands
You were found dead in your home, alone.
But those "Cry baby" tears keep coming back again
You woke up in hell, you knew you probably weren't going to heaven but still!
Someone's turning the handle to that faucet in your eyes
Tears swelled up in your eyes but you wiped them away before they could fall deciding to look around and assess your situation.
You pour it out where everyone can see
Wandering around you passed by a shop with a radio present in it, reminding you of your dear Alastor.
Your heart's too big for your body, it's why it won't fit inside
The tears started pouring, and before you could do anything else, someone touches your shoulder.
You pour it out where everyone can see
You've been down below for who knew how long now, bring found by Mimzy of all people, a good friend of yours, and Alastor's.
They call you cry baby, cry baby
Mimzy showed up at Alastor's home banging on the front door, you stood a few feet away from her, He opened it displeased at the sudden visit but he smiled wide nonetheless.
"Mimzy dear, pray tell why you are banging on my door at this unholy hour?" He asked, simply hearing his voice the waterworks began as Mimzy pulled you out from where you stood.
But you don't fucking care
Alastor's eyes ever so slightly widened, it hadn't been that long since he died, he suspected you would follow suit eventually but not this quickly.
Cry baby, cry baby
"I believe this one is yours, they've been crying on and off, it's driving me crazy" Mimzy said shoving you into Alastor as you grinned up at him through blurry eyes
So you laugh through your tears
"I missed you." You said as Alastor touched your face, brushing a claw over it, you, much like him and every other sinner looked different from when you were alive, you had permanent gold tear streaks stitched into your face, how ironic.
Cry baby, cry baby
Alastor simply grinned, wiping away a tear.
"You haven't changed a bit, Mon étoile."
'Cause you don't fucking care
"You can pay me back for reunitin' ya lovebirds later!"
Mimzy laughed before running off to do who knows what, making a swift exit for plot convenience.
Tears fall to the ground
And that was that, you were finally reunited.
You'll just let them drown
While Alastor was given the name of The Radio demon you were referred to as the Crying demon,
How original.
Cry baby, cry baby
While Alastor stuck fear with a smile, hearing you wail in the distance stuck fear into others, you'd apologize as you ripped sinners apart just like you did in life.
You'll just let them drown
You watched as Alastor developed a cannibalistic taste for sinners, he opted to bring you sinner hearts as a token of affection,
You teared up from how sweet the extremely messed up act was.
Cry baby, cry baby
You also watched as Alastor's personal hygiene got worse, to the point where you'd chase him down with a sponge and a bucket of water, or before bed with a toothbrush and some toothpaste.
Much to his chagrin he was never able to escape you chasing him.
You'll just let them drown
Alastor's more sadistic tendencies were revealed in full force, with him biting and pinching your cheeks just hard enough to make you cry.
It wasn't a deal breaker but it did weird you out at first.
I look at you and I see myself
Alastor brought you to the Hazbin hotel after Husk and Niffty were pulled from wherever,
You quickly gained an affection for the hotel and it's residents, Alastor may have been using the hotel for his own entertainment but you genuinely believed in Charlie's dream of redeeming sinners.
And I know you better than anyone else
Becoming another parental figure for the princess you showered her with advice and familial affection, saying if you had a child you'd want them to be just like her.
And I have the same faucet in my eyes
Vaggie wasn't spared from the parental affection either, Alastor might not have been fond of her but you were.
So your tears are mine
You eventually became like the hotels therapist, a very prone to crying therapist but a therapist none the less.
You and Charlie tended to cry together especially if the two of you decided to put a emotionally charged movie on for movie nights
They call me cry baby, cry baby
You cried when extermination day happened, taking out exorcists left and right, your tears were filled with anger as you witnessed what happened to Sir Pentious.
But I don't fucking care
You cried tears of joy when the hotel was rebuilt and when Alastor came back from wherever he was.
Cry baby, cry baby
"You are an complete and utter MORON,"
"Mon étoile, W̴̝̖͙̩̹̓͆̏͌̒̔̑͐̕h̶͔̲̄ă̵̟̥͙̥͖͚̋̍̓̓̇̕ţ̶̧͇̞̟͈͔͉̦͋̄͂̌́̉͗ ̸̛̟̖̰͛͐̂̌̃d̷͎͍̦̩̯̂̐̈́̒̇͜ͅï̷̙͎͙̱̲̾̓̓̂d̵̛̛̲̤̺̟͒̈́̽́̑̈́̈͜͠ ̴̬̥̱͓̊̒͛ȳ̶̢̢̛̛̘͓̱̱̭̩̣͈̈́̀͋͘͝ő̴͓̜̥̪͇͙͉̞̜ủ̴̢̖͙̞͈̳̈́̑̋̂̉̈ ̵̩̈́̋̂̾̓̎̌̕̚j̶̛̗̲͚͖̼̻̥͕̚ù̸̫̯̎s̷̛̹̠̠̰͇̬̟̤͖̃̋͋ť̵͇̹͕̞͌ ̵̢̹͖̯͆̀̽́̎̐̐̽̆̃c̴͍̼̤̓̉̃̒̕͠a̶͖̙̭͂͋̓l̸̢̧̨͙̯̹̯̱̳̏̈́̀l̷̡͖͉̟̼̳̹͙̏́̄̃͋ͅ ̶̧͓͍͑m̶̨̡̠̖͇̫͓̅̈́-̷̞̱̪͓̞̅̈́͊̇̎̐͝"
"Don't pull that radio demon bullshit with me right now Alastor! How hard was it to arm yourself? You aren't invincible to ANGELIC WEAPONS!"
You shouted at Alastor as you paced around your newly restored shared room, first aid kit open, bandages wrapped around, angry tears in your eyes.
If you were anyone else, you would be dead for rubbing salt into the still aching wound.
Alastor sighed and swung one leg over the other, crossing his arms intending to wait until your 'temper tantrum' was over.
I laugh through my tears
Normally he rather liked your tears, in a Alastor way, but they were annoying to him in this instance.
Cry baby, cry baby
You grabbed his face, locking your eyes with his,
"You could've died, You would've left me again."
"Dearest,"
"Al,"
"I won't leave you again."
"Promise?"
You asked dropping your hands from his face only for him to hold them in his hands.
"Promise."
'Cause I don't fucking care, Tears fall to the ground
With the hotel rebuilt, bigger, more grand then before, sinners began to trickle in.
Wanting to give redemption a shot,
Some wanted to see someone they knew that more then likely ended up going above, some had nothing left to lose, some just wanted to change, hating what they've become since they fell below.
I just let them drown, Cry baby, cry baby
You quite liked how things were developing, seeing Charlie's face light up when hotel residents improved, getting clean from addiction, proving to be better.
I just let them drown, Cry baby, cry baby
Alastor originally got involved in this place for his own entertainment or otherwise, bringing you with him, he didn't think that his darling crybaby of a wife would get attached.
But maybe he was getting attached too, not that he would ever admit it even to you.
You'll just let them drown, They call you cry baby, cry baby
You and Alastor sat comfortably on the couch in his radio tower, with you laying on his shoulder, his arm gingerly wrapped around you.
I just let them drown
"Al, look how cute they are!"
You said as you held your phone to Alastor, you had to remove a few qualities in order to keep the phone, you didn't mind since you mostly used it to communicate with the hotel residents or look at animal videos on the Internet anyways.
He simply hummed as he grimaced at the phone, you were trying to show him a group of hellborn kittens,
"We should get a cat,"
"We already have a cat."
"Husk doesn't count."
You said frowning as Alastor moved his hand to your cheek, pinching it until tears swelled up in your eyes.
Cry baby, cry baby
You were sobbing at the red creature you held in your arms,
"It's adorable!" You sobbed out holding the catlike creature that you found on the side of the road much to Alastor's displeasure you wanted a cat, and you got a cat thingy
"It looks like Alastor."
"Exactly!"
Alastor squinted at the cat thing you were crying with pride over, he would throw the damned thing out the window but unfortunately you were already attached, and he preferred you to cry over literally anything else other then the failed clone of his.
You'll just let them drown
Good evening folks! Thanks for tuning in! I scheduled this for Saturday so that should mean this is the last of the songfics! [For now anyways] [post-post edit, I LIED THERE WILL BE MORE SONG FICS THIS IS ONLY THE BEGINNING]
I wanted to go more into how Alastor would probably enjoy the readers crying but it got a little too weird.
Have a wonderful weekend folks!
224 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
chuubifrog
Frog’s yer Uncle
eulenherz
Unbetitelt
iamdangerace
Still Not Dead Yet
comradegendry
titled
pammywest
Lucky Clover☘️