#because i have never forgotten. in my head they are still getting up to all kinds of wacky reporting hijinks.
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western nights (pt. 1)
pairing: older!trailer park!jj x reader
summary: jj maybank knows he's too old to be messing around with a young girl like you, but he does it anyways
warnings: age gap, smut (fingering), that's p much it.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
jj was known for bein a sleaze around the trailer park. a two time felon who's doing his best to lay low by taking odd jobs around the complex so the feds don't come knocking at his door. you could catch him doing anything from mowing lawns to helping out the grandmas who's sons long stopped coming to check on them. girls came and went out of his trailer at all times of the day--clothes askew and hair messy.
but once he set his eyes on you, everyone else went out the window. he'd known of you of course, having grown up in the complex you're whole life but you were nothing more than one of many little shits running around in a little conglomerate of cheese puff fingers and sugar highs. he paid you no mind, maybe you were one of the kids he's bought crappy water pistols for, maybe not. one summer though, one summer he's on your lawn fixing your car because your mom asked, and there you were-- sitting pretty on your lawn chair reading some trashy book in what he thinks is the smallest dress he's ever seen.
the two of you lock eyes and from then on he's always finding a reason to sniff around you.
each time you pass by jj's place he lets out a whistle, sayin "wish the girls looked as good as you when i was that age." and you just roll your eyes and keep walking. he always finding something to fix around your house and your mom becomes more and more enamored with him not noticing he only has eyes for you.
it all comes to a head during a birthday party--your mom's to be exact. the whole little block is drinking, kids running around, barbecue in the air but you're sitting across from him in his too hot trailer trying to wrangle a beer out of him.
"you even old enough to drink yet? you still got one baby fat on ya." he pinches your cheek and you smack him away with a scoff, leaning over with your hands on either sides of his hips on the couch
"does it matter? you're gonna give it to me anyways." the little pout on you face makes his dick twitch in his jeans, and he makes no effort to hide his growing erection.
"nuh uh little girl, gonna need to see some i.d." you squeak when he pats your ass to 'search' for your wallet, fingers dancing at the hem of your denim skirt and sliding up you shirt to cup your breast, "feels like you're old enough to me."
your eyes flutter shut when he swipes a calloused thumb across your nipple, a tiny hmph of pleasure works it's way past your lips when he pinches the soft flesh.
the beer is quickly forgotten when he lifts your shirt off, wasting no time in getting his mouth on you--licking the sweat from the valley of your breasts and sucking on your neck as you move to sit on his lap.
"should we even be doin this? y'know my mama's realll sweet on you." you pull away from him but make no move to leave.
jj just scoffs and waves it away, running a hand through his blonde hair in irritation, "lots of women are, nothin new, been this way as long as i can remember but it never mattered to me much."
you can tell he wants this conversation to be over, his eyes raking over your body and his fingers tugging at the button to your skirt even as you cross your arms in front of you, "if she finds out we're fucked."
he shrugs, "then don't let her find out."
that's all you need to continue, letting him capture your lips with his, his rough hands travel over your soft skin, stoking the fire building steadily inside of you. despite your veneer of coolness, he can feel your pulse throbbing in your neck under his palm.
"you scared of me or somethin?" his voice is raspy when he whispers against your jaw.
you whimper in reply, "n-no?" even you notice you don't sound too sure--maybe there's a little fear despite your flirting. you wanted to be good for him, you wanted him to like you.
he looks like he doesnt believe you, but he lets it go.
"then get over here." jj yanks you back towards him until your face was tucked into his neck. he doesn't even bother taking your skirt off, just hikes it up and tugs your panties down with a smack on your ass until they're sitting right below the swell of the soft flesh.
the moan that leaves your lips when his fingers graze your clit is almost pornographic, you hadn't even realized how wet you were until you heard the slick sound of his fingers plunging into you with ease. he was obviously skillful, he found that sweet spot inside you with no problem, rubbing it in time with the thumb on your clit while you squeaked and squirmed against him, completely overwhelmed by pleasure.
you were slick and dripping down his palm, doing your best to squirm away from the assault on your pussy but he wouldn't let you, chasing after your thrashing hips and letting out a soft grunt when you sink your teeth into his neck. the way he used his fingers should be a crime--scissoring them open and slowly dragging the pads down your front wall just to hear you mewl like a kitten at the feeling. the thumb on your clit still rubbing in quick, confident circles and he could tell by the way it swelled and throbbed that you were close.
"bet those little boys never made you feel like this huh?" he laughs at you whining response, the answer is extremely apparent by the sound of your growing wetness--your high pitched keen drowned out by the sloshing of your pussy, "there you go sugar, just let it all out."
you choke out a moan and drench him, pussy locking tight around his knuckles as you pulsed, squirting your release all over his lap. there was no way he had you feeling like that just from fingering but here you were, pulse rushing in your ears as he got your clothes back right, sitting you on the couch with a kiss on the forehead as he left to go change seeing as though you soaked his jeans.
when he comes back he lets out a chuckle at the sight of you still sitting there dazed and he finally gives you that beer, "get yourself together aight?" i'll see you back out there.
it takes you almost 20 minutes to finish the beer, still trembling and pussy aching with the need to be filled. you finally step outside, eyes hazy and brain turned to mush when you notice you don't have your panties on.
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Don't be a stranger! Pt. 3
Part 2 Part 3
Simon "Ghost" Riley x FemReader
Content: Neighbors AU, fluff, developing relationship
For the first time in a long time Simon wasn't glad to be leaving his flat. Every other time he would have already been out the door and on his way back to the base. Instead he's sitting at his table nursing a cup of tea at 5am; trying to take in as much as he can before leaving for who knows how long.
You and Simon had said your goodbyes to each other last night per his request. He didn't want you having to be up this early when you still had to wake up for work in just a couple hours. Which was something that made him worried to think about. He had been walking with you everyday, and this was going to be his first time not doing that with you. You were going to start doing a lot of things without him now though.
Simon was sure in just a couple weeks of him being gone you'll have forgotten all about him and moved on in life. Sure he had your phone number now, but he's not going to be able to communicate with you for long periods whenever he's out on a mission. He'll become the neighbor who shows up every once in a while, and no longer your friend. He just knew it.
A sudden knock at his door broke him of these thoughts. He cautiously approached the door; there were only two options he could think of for who was at the door. Either it was someone who was here to try and hurt him or it was you.
He looked through the peephole and once he had confirmed who it was he opened the door.
It was you. Of course it was you, as much as he wished you had listened and were instead asleep right now; Simon was happy to see you. Standing in the doorway with a wide grin on your face, and holding a box.
"Simon! I'm so glad I managed to catch you before you left," You hold out the box towards him, "here this is for you as well!"
Simon softly says your name before grabbing the box from you and letting you step inside, “What’s this? Also shouldn’t you be asleep right now. I thought we agreed to say goodbye last night.”
“You did say that, but I never agreed to it!” You step inside giving him a soft shoulder bump, “and that is a gift that you are not allowed to open until you get back to base.”
With a small smile on his face Simon gives a huff, “I suppose I should’ve known better to think that you would’ve listened.”
“I’ll listen when it’s important, but you never could’ve stopped me from being up and walking you out to the car. It’ll be like our normal walks except I’m walking you to work this time.”
Simon will deny it to everyone, even himself, but he felt so cared for in that moment. Here you were at 5am wanting to be with him to the last second. Not because you had to or worked together, but simply because you wanted to.
"Should I expect an escort from the car to the building when I return as well?"
"Just tell me when to be there and I will."
He hopes you keep your word on that. Before anything else can be said his phone pings, "It seems my car is here."
You give him a sad smile as the two of you head to the door. "I'm going to call and text you by the way; you're not going to get rid of me this easily."
"I won't always be able to reply." He wasn't going to lie and say the two of you would always be in constant communication. That would only lead to hurt for both of you, "but I'll try to when I can."
"That's ok, besides who else am I going to get to listen to me ramble about my day?"
"Then I look forward to your 20 minute voicemail messages then, love."
The rest of the walk to the car is passed with you telling Simon what plans you have coming up, and that he shouldn't worry about his place since you'll hold down the fort for him while he's gone.
You stood silently now standing by his side as he put his bag in the trunk. Looking at you he can clearly see a glassy look in your eyes as you look up at him.
"Can- can I get a hug before you go?" You nervously ask.
You and Simon had exchanged shoulder bumps, back pats, and side hugs at most. Never have the two of you given the other a real hug. It took just a moment to think before Simon was opening up his arms towards you. Instantly you rush forward and you both stand there for a moment holding on to each other.
“Be safe.” You whisper before letting go, and taking a step back. Letting Simon get inside the car.
He watched up for as long as he could; memorizing you to mind. When he couldn’t see you any longer Simon took a deep breath, and slipped back to what he was most comfortable with. Being the ghost he was once more.
-
“Aye, Lt. good to see you again! How was your time off?” Johnny of course was there right as soon as he stepped back on base. Normally he’d appreciate it, but right now all he wants is to get to his room. You said he couldn’t open the package till he got here, and he didn’t want to wait any longer than he had to.
“It was fine.” Simon says as he walks past the other, “I’ll meet up with you later Johnny.”
“You better! I have a lot of gossip that I need to catch you up on.”
“Copy that.”
He didn’t stop walking till the door to his room was firmly shut behind him. Placing his bag down he sat at the desk and opened the box.
Inside was a small container, a bracelet, and a letter. Pulling out the container first he opened it to find the little thing filled with cookies and a note on top.
“I know you have a secret sweet tooth! Hope you enjoy these!” The note read. It was hard for him to not smile at that. He didn’t know that you had noticed that about him; it was actually something he tried to hide from you.
The bracelet was clearly homemade by you. It is made up of black and gray beads, and a small silver pendant the shape of a heart. He runs his fingers over the pendant feeling the smooth cool surface before he slips the bracelet onto his wrist. He’ll cover it with his sleeves or put it in his pocket when he’s not in his own personal space.
A thought pops into Simon’s head as looks at it; taking out his phone he takes a quick photo of the bracelet and sends it to you. Along with a text thank you for the cookies as well.
Looking back in the box there was only the letter left. This was the item that made him the most nervous to look at. Very carefully though he opened it.
“Simon,
The very first day I met you I was so worried that you were there to yell at me. That I had already messed up a relationship with one of my neighbors, but you had surprised me. You offered to help me, and I said yes.
That was the best decision I could have made. Having you as my friend will never be a mistake. I’m going to miss you while you’re gone, but rest assured as soon as you get back home I’ll make you whatever you want!
Make sure to stay safe out there and bring me back any cool rocks you find!
Sincerely,
Your favorite neighbor!”
Reading the letter he couldn’t help but think about every moment he spent with you; noting to himself how different everything seems to be now in his life. He never thought he would meet someone like you that made him feel a certain way.
With something akin to horror Simon realized what that feeling was, he liked you, he wanted you to be his. Somehow you had dug yourself into his heart, and made a home.
Taglist:
@nexthyperfix @spicyspicyliving @yourdaydreamerfan @tf141gloryhole
#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#x reader#fem reader#task force 141#call of duty#simon ghost riley#female reader#john soap mactavish
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all you conceal, let out: ch. 1
After the death of Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, in his grief, takes off on a mission half-cocked to find a lost holocron on Jedha. The next thing he knows, he's waking up injured on a planet he's never seen before, surrounded by calm and an unsettling quiet. Then, after passing out again, he wakes up in a strange home, patched, clean, and safe. And his savior is someone he loved who he didn't think he'd ever see again. Will he be able to get back to his own universe, and does he even want to?
i finally managed to fill another square on my @obikin-events bingo card well after the event was over 🫡 (i tried my best to finish it before it ended, but oh well)
alternate universe travel • obikin • 5.1k words • read on ao3 instead
Anakin knew his mission wouldn't be easy. He was warned against going, specifically going alone, but he insisted on taking it anyway. He needed to be away from the Temple, from everything that reminded him –
“You still need time to mourn!” His own padawan had cried out in the hangar as he strode away from her, his responsibilities, and any bit of sanity he was still holding onto.
Death is a natural part of life, he thought bitterly as he jogged up the Twilight's ramp, followed quickly by Artoo. I guess you forgot that lesson.
If he had bothered to turn back, he would have seen Ahsoka's deeply troubled countenance, but he wasn't concerned about that. He had a mission to carry out – one that had been important to Obi-Wan. And he would see it through.
But as Anakin slowly lifted his head out of the dirt, he was no longer so sure he could see it through. He didn't even know where he was anymore. His head throbbed as he became aware of the blood rushing through his ears, drowning out all other noise. Not that there was much to hear anyway – no blaster fire, no clankers yelling in their tinny, robotic voices, no shouting clone troopers, no explosions… nothing.
As he became more aware of his being, his whole body ached, hurting so much he wouldn't have been surprised if every single bone in his body was broken. If Obi-Wan were here and could read his thoughts, he would have undoubtedly told him he was being dramatic.
‘Get up, my young padawan, you’re not so old yet.’ He heard his master’s voice so clearly, just as if he was standing right next to him, looking down at his old padawan with a wry grin and his hands on his hips. He frowned – wishing Obi-Wan was here wouldn’t make him appear, no matter how much Anakin wanted it. He turned his head left then right, searching for his ship, for Artoo… for anyone or anything, but he was completely alone.
Anakin gingerly pushed himself up and made it halfway before his arms gave out and he dropped back into the muck with a disgusting squelch . And that, too, was different. Last he could recall, he had been on Jedha, surrounded by orange dust and sand as far as the eye could see, even inside the old temple ruins. But as he looked around now, there was nothing but vibrant multicolored trees, green grass, and a brilliant blue sky.
So where the hell was here?
Anakin really had no chance to think about his location or predicament because, unsurprisingly, he had passed out again. He didn’t know how long he was out, but when he awoke, he was still on the mystery planet and dusk was settling on the land. It was just as quiet as before, but now the silence was punctuated by the sound of night coming to life.
He always found the night strangely unsettling when wasn't at home. Coruscant’s night never deviated from its day – the ecumenopolis was a constant hum of traffic and pulse of billions of lifeforms. And Tatooine’s night had been… well, when it wasn’t eerily silent, it was a howling sandstorm or some other form of danger such as raiders, Hutt cartels, or baying creatures that could eat you whole.
He’d forgotten the true sound of silence, the feeling of it. The way it crept into your bones, enveloped your senses, and made you feel uneasy and cold. Not long after the war began, they all became quickly accustomed to being constantly surrounded by dozens, sometimes hundreds of other beings all the time, whether on board a star destroyer or in battle. Then add to that, life on Coruscant, in the Temple, and pair it with his own constant loud thoughts, feelings, and anxieties, and he really couldn't remember the last time he'd experienced a true quiet like this. Had he ever?
Anakin summoned enough energy to roll over with a grunt. His face was covered in muck and dirt, he could feel it in the pull of his skin when he winced. His cloak was wet, but he still used the voluminous sleeves to wipe it away. All his clothes were wet as it turned out – not exactly soaked , but damp enough to be uncomfortable and annoying. He became more aware of every pain in his body – temples throbbing, joints aching, and most inconvenient of all, the sharp stab of pain in his side. It was most likely a fractured or bruised rib… he hoped anyway.
As he continued to lie supine in the grass, he took stock of the rest of his body, curling and straightening his fingers then rolling his arms across the dirt to test the movement. Next he tried wiggling his toes inside his boots then flexed his calves, and finally pulled up his legs to bend his knees. Nothing seemed broken. He finally pushed himself up until he was in a sitting position, swaying a bit as his vision swam.
Forgetting about all his physical aches, his gloved hand moved to his belt, searching for his communicator, but it was nowhere to be found. Then it flew to his left hip where his lightsaber usually sat, a comforting weight always at his side, but it wasn’t there either.
"Shiiiiit," Anakin whispered. He looked at the ground around him, blinking, his eyes straining to see anything at all in the grass in the low light. It could be anywhere. He would find it – he would – but he couldn’t focus right this second. He scrambled to stand but it was too much, too soon and he fell back into the dirt.
He groaned long and loud into the rapidly darkening night.
But then, he heard the most beautiful sound to his buzzing ears – the sound of help. Help was on its way in a beaten-up X-34 landspeeder, which sounded like the combustor of the axial compressor needed to be replaced. He’d never been so happy in his life to hear the low rumble of an engine that needed some serious maintenance, or more happy that he had not completely forgotten everything he knew.
A wave of dizziness and nausea came over him, but he leaned forward and stretched out his arm as the speeder rumbled closer. “Help?” He could barely muster the single-syllable word. Not that he could be heard over the noise of the engine anyway, but he had to try.
Then, unfortunately, he blacked out once again.
Anakin slowly came-to, aware of warmth, comfort, and a voice, calm and gentle, like home . He suddenly remembered being lifted, a hand on his cheek, his forehead, the cool night air then –
Nothing more.
For the third time in less than half a day, Anakin awoke from slumber. Except this one had been much more fitful than the others. He still ached, but at least he was no longer lying face down in mud in wet clothes. Instead, now he was lying on a sofa under a blanket, his head cradled in a soft pillow, and he was clean and comfortable. The thought was concerning, but he'd get to that later.
Golden sunlight filtered in through the room’s shades. It was certainly no longer night, and it seemed rather bright, but he had no idea what time it could possibly be. He squeezed his eyes tightly and tried to remember… He could recall nothing at all of how he got here – on the planet or in this room. He had been on Jedha with Artoo and a couple of troopers from 501st (who showed up at Ahsoka's insistence), combing through an old excavation site. It was the last-known location of an unknown holocron, apparently buried amongst the ruins, and looking for it had felt like searching for a single star in a nebula.
When the Jedi first learned of its existence (or ‘ potential existence’ rather, as Obi-Wan had insisted), neither he nor Obi-Wan had truly believed in the presence of such a holocron on the planet. Something like that would surely have been recovered long ago! Obi-Wan’s incredulity echoed in Anakin's head. But t hey were instructed to at least look, as it would have been rather foolish to allow something like that to languish untouched with the potential of falling into anyone’s hands. And if the rumor was true and they did find such a thing, they could study it. Incredulity aside, Obi-Wan wasn't very good at completely hiding his interest (or at least not to Anakin), and he had remarked several times on how he'd love to study it and learn all its secrets. Anakin had adored the way the older man’s eyes lit up just talking about it. He wouldn't have dreamed of ever telling his old master that.
Then he would never get a chance to. Obi-Wan became one with the Force, leaving Anakin behind forever, and he was forced to go on, to live the rest of his life without his best friend and master. It had been three months, and the wound was as raw and as fresh as the day Obi-Wan was taken from him. He couldn't find peace no matter what he did or who he talked to. They weren't Obi-Wan.
Master Kenobi’s loss was felt keenly by all the Jedi, but Anakin was sure he didn’t mean as much to them as he did to him. His master was gone and Anakin would never have peace again.
So Anakin had gone to Jedha on a half-cocked mission to find the holocron, because Obi-Wan had wanted to find it, and Obi-Wan wanted to study it, and that was a last wish Anakin could honor even though every fiber of his being cried out for the loss of the man he loved.
Perhaps the holocron held secrets to eternal life. Perhaps there was a way to see or speak to him again. Feeling delirious with the prospect, Anakin had run headlong into the temple ruins built inside a cave mouth of a large plateau, feeling as if he was getting close. The pull of the Force was strong, like a nexus of power. He remembered a thrumming and buzzing in his head then nothing at all after that.
And now he was in some house he didn't know, on a planet he didn't recognize.
He carefully stretched out with his senses and found that all was calm. He reached further looking for someone, anything , but didn’t get much beyond the general course of life on the planet. Then suddenly, on the edge of his consciousness, a single life form appeared, close… It was inside the house with him. Anakin should be on high alert, but he couldn’t find it within himself to be. Perhaps he would come back to the why later. Wherever he was, he felt safe and not in any danger. The life form felt calm, relaxed, and slightly amused. Then suddenly he heard a low humming, but not like the humming of the Force, but a living being softly humming a tune. It wasn’t in the room with him but it was close. Then it stopped.
"Ah, you're awake."
Anakin whipped his head in the direction of the voice. THAT VOICE. A voice he knew better than anyone else's. A voice he had heard most every day since he was nine years old, a voice he'd grown to love more than anyone else's. He twisted around to get a better look, hissing when his side and back protested, clearly still in no shape to move so quickly.
“Take it easy!” The voice warned.
He watched in disbelief as the source of the voice set a tray down on the small table in front of the sofa. As he took in the man before him, his chest constricted and tightened and his breathing shallowed. He stood on the precipice of a panic attack with no way to ward it off. Because here was Obi-Wan Kenobi in the flesh, standing in front of him, whole and alive .
He was older than Anakin knew him to be at the time of his death – by five years or so, maybe more. His hair was longer, not quite as long as it was right before the start of the war, but long enough so the ends curled around his ears and sat on the collar of his shirt. There were more strands of grey threaded throughout his hair and at his temples, more lines etched into his face, particularly around the eyes. His skin had taken on more of a golden hue than Anakin had ever seen – like he spent most of his time outside – which also meant more, darker freckles dotting his forehead, cheeks, and the bridge of his nose.
He was wearing a light colored work shirt with the buttons undone to mid-breastbone and the sleeves rolled to the elbows. His trousers were the color of rust and he wore tall, brown boots. The clothes hugged his strong figure as if they were tailor-made specifically for him. Anakin couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Obi-Wan in anything but his loose, cream-colored tunics, robes or under blacks and armor.
He looked like a man untouched by war, healthy and content. Anakin had forgotten that once Obi-Wan did look like that, but it was long ago. He stared, slack-jawed, as he thought of Obi-Wan’s pale face and lifeless, clear blue eyes as he held him in death. This was Obi-Wan as he could have been – should have been. Anakin's heart clenched in his chest.
"I brought you some breakfast," the man finally added, still hesitant and wary of what Anakin would do next.
Feeling panicked at the strange normality of it all, Anakin attempted to fully sit up so he could defend himself if needed, but he was still in quite a bit of pain. He grabbed his side and winced as the aching muscles in his core contracted. Then his fingers came in contact with a large bandage stuck to his left side.
"Careful now!" Obi-Wan rushed over to grab Anakin's arm and steady him. The touch was like a brand in his skin. He ripped his arm away and stood quickly, hitting his shin on the small table as he stumbled away from the strange Obi-Wan. He blindly reached again for where a lightsaber should be at his hip, only to find it still wasn't there.
Instead, Anakin brandished the knife he'd grabbed off the tray in his haste to distance himself from the imposter. "What kind of trick is this? Who are you?"
Not-Obi-Wan put his hands up in a half-hearted surrender. "I'm not really thrilled about being threatened in my own home. Even if it is with a dull butter knife. I can assure you, I am unarmed."
"Obi-Wan… what… what are you doing here?"
Confusion colored the man's features, but it was there and gone just as quickly. "It's just Ben,” he said, slowly putting his hands down.
Anakin's eye brows pinched as he frowned, “Ben? I– nevermind!” He thrust the knife out in warning and Ben's hands flew back up. "Where am I? How are you here??"
"Well this is MY house, and you're a guest in it, though I have half a mind to throw you out now for threatening me."
This ‘Ben’ was so much like his Obi-Wan, it took his breath away. The way he talked, even if the accent was slightly less of the clipped Coruscanti, and more of a slight brogue, then right down to the casualness with which he handled Anakin's threat… But behind the light-hearted jest, there was a definite wariness, a bit of fear for this complete stranger in his home. Because Ben clearly didn't know him. Anakin meant nothing to him. This wasn't his Obi-Wan.
Anakin blinked as he tried to remember anything before he woke up, trying to make sense of this situation. Maybe he was actually lying in a cot in a tent in the middle of a dusty desert on Jedha. Or perhaps on a moderately comfy bed in the Halls of Healing back inside the Jedi Temple. Or maybe he was floating inside a bacta tank – injured, knocked out, and healing. Yes, that was it. He was asleep and this was a dream, and in his great grief, he'd conjured up this older Obi-Wan. An Obi-Wan who was not only alive, but content, happy, and healthy. Of course he would – that's what Anakin wanted for his friend and the man he loved. He had created a life that Obi-Wan didn't get to live.
Tears began to gather in the corners of his eyes. He squeezed them shut tightly and willed himself to wake up.
"You seem to be very hurt," the voice spoke again, and Anakin opened his eyes. "Why don't you eat something then go lie down?"
"Maybe I am hurt, but this isn't real, you're not real," he said resolutely. "I am hurt, yes. But I'm at home, in the Temple." Maybe if he said it forcefully enough and without any doubt he would make it so.
Not-Obi-Wan stepped towards him and Anakin stepped back.
"I have no intention of hurting you, I think you need to lie down before you hurt yourself," Ben stepped towards him again, one hand extended, palm up as if he was trying to settle a wild nexu.
“You know that I could hurt YOU,” Anakin said, his voice wavering. The knife in his hand trembled.
“You won’t though.”
Their eyes fixed on each other as Ben stepped closer. Anakin didn't know whether he wanted to fight or flee, but he felt immobilized so he did neither.
Before he knew what was happening, Ben lunged forward and wrapped his right hand around Anakin’s wrist, gripping it tightly, forcing him to drop the knife, then another arm came around Anakin’s neck and squeezed.
“Sleep,” was the last word Anakin heard before he did just that.
Anakin dreamt of Obi-Wan.
But not the Obi-Wan he had known since he was nine years old. It was an Obi-Wan he'd known for maybe nine minutes.
In his dream, this Obi-Wan looked exactly like his Obi-Wan, he dressed differently but otherwise moved and talked like him. His gestures, jokes, and smiles were the same, even down to the lingering sadness behind his eyes that Anakin had always noticed when Obi-Wan thought he wasn’t looking. But in his dream, he was still on this other planet, and not Coruscant, and Obi-Wan wasn’t a Jedi, but a farmer.
Anakin was inside a small house which sat in the middle of several acres of land covered in trees and lush fields. Directly behind the home was a large garden where the older Obi-Wan currently stood amongst many kinds of plants, small and large. He was naked to the waist, and the sinking sun's rays reflected off his sweat-shiny skin, making it glisten. Ben was a bit thicker than Anakin remembered ever seeing Obi-Wan, but he was still strong and lithe. The muscles in his back and arms flexed as he dug into the earth and bent down to plant new seeds. Obi-Wan finally stood and turned, wiping sweat from his brow with a bit of cloth he pulled from his back pocket.
“Anakin,” he said with the loveliest smile Anakin had ever seen.
This Obi-Wan loved him. Anakin knew it somehow.
Anakin’s eyes flew open, he was sweating and his breathing labored. He sat up quickly, blankets pooling at his waist, and looked around. Daylight was fading, but it was enough to illuminate the room and he could see it was homey and cozy. He was now in a small bedroom he didn’t recognize in a very comfy bed. Far more comfortable than anything he'd grown used to in battlefield tents and aboard Venator destroyers. He looked to his right, wondering if he’d find Ben there, since this was surely his room, but when he found it empty, he exhaled, strangely relieved.
The bed was a modest size, easily large enough for two, but not so big that two people would never meet in the night. A dresser sat pushed up against the wall opposite with a small mirror resting on top. From where he sat, Anakin could see there were some trinkets and other items there as well, but he couldn’t make out what they were. A large chair sat by the window with a blanket haphazardly thrown over and a discarded datapad in the seat. On the small bedside table next to his side of the bed, there was a lamp, and surprisingly, his communicator and his lightsaber.
Anakin pushed away the covers and swung his legs over the side. He picked up his lightsaber to feel the familiar and comforting heft. Ben had undoubtedly found it, but it was a bit surprising that he had actually returned it to him. Maybe he didn't know what it was, didn't know what Anakin could do with it. Well, at least he'd be spared the 'your lightsaber is your life' lecture, though Anakin would have given up his lightsaber forever just to hear it again.
He was still wearing only a pair of sleep pants and he was glad to find that the glove over his mechno-arm was still in place. He wiggled his toes then slid off the bed and stepped onto soft, cool carpet and stretched away some of the stiffness. It felt like he had been asleep for days. At the window, he pulled back the curtain slightly to peer outside. The sun was setting in the distance behind the foothills, painting the sky in soft pinks, oranges, and purples. The landscape was bathed in a soft yellow, but none of that beauty compared to the man standing in the middle of the large vegetable garden.
Just like in his dream.
His heart rate picked up again.
Was he even awake now? Or was all of this a dream?
Suddenly small flashes of what he thought were recent memories returned to him – a pair of strong arms wrapping around his back and under his knees, the feel of a warm, wet cloth being dragged across his face gently, humming in another room, then Anakin threatening to stab this beautiful man with a butter knife. He flushed, hoping against hope that that was also only from his dream.
He dropped the curtain and made his way through the house and out onto the back porch. Ben was practically glowing in the evening sun. It only took a second for him to look up and smile.
“Hello there.” Ben thrust his shovel into the dirt, then rested his elbow on the handle. Anakin’s mouth suddenly became very dry. “Oh, I’ve hidden all the butter knives,” he added with a slight twist to his mouth. Anakin's face fell – so that one was true. “However, that thing I put on the bedside table seems like it could do much more damage than a knife.” Ben huffed as he pulled a cloth out of his back pocket and wiped his face.
“That 'thing'??” Anakin scoffed as he crossed his arms over his chest. His still-bare chest, he was reminded. Maybe from that distance Ben couldn’t tell that he was blushing. “That thing, Ben, is my lightsaber. MY LIFE. You are… were always so fond of reminding me.” Ben chuckled but said nothing else. It felt so odd for him to say nothing at all about it.
They stood and stared at each other for a few moments. Anakin allowed the stillness and quiet of the evening to envelope him once more. Was this really his current reality? Or was it possible that his mind had actually created some world so tangible, so intricate and detailed? An Obi-Wan who was both Obi-Wan and not simultaneously, and who had no clue who Anakin was.
Ben pulled his shovel from the ground and walked towards the house. He stopped below the porch and stared up at Anakin. “You must be hungry, would you like latemeal?”
As if right on cue, his stomach growled. “Yes, okay.”
“Let me get cleaned up and I will get it for you,” Ben said with a nod and passed by Anakin without a second look.
Anakin sat at the small table in the kitchen and watched as Ben deftly moved around the space preparing the meal. It was strange how everything seemed so familiar, from the way he stood and held himself, to the way he drank from his own mug, even down to how quiet and focused he was on the task. It was strange to know and love the man so well, but to not know him at all. Because this still wasn't his Obi-Wan. No matter what his dream told him. No matter what he wanted to believe and be real. But he was so like him, it made his heart ache. He knew a mind consumed with grief could create fantastical things, believe the unbelievable, especially if it brought back loved ones. He'd also heard stories of beings traveling through time and space, but that’s all they were supposed to be, stories – ‘wistie stories' his mom told him before bed or outlandish yarns spun by his fellow padawans as they shirked their duties.
But if that was true, and he'd been flung into another time and universe… Where was Anakin Skywalker here? And why wasn't he with Obi-Wan Kenobi?
He snapped out of his reverie when Ben set some food down in front of him then took his own place in the chair across the table. It was intimate, but Anakin couldn’t think about it too much because he was starving and the food smelled amazing. It was a needed distraction.
Between sips from his mug of tea, Ben finally spoke up. "I didn't see a ship. Or a speeder, for that matter."
"Uh well, I didn't have one," Anakin said as he pushed the food around on his plate. "At least not here." He shoved a large chunk of fried tuber in his mouth.
Ben narrowed his eyes, "I'm not exactly close to the nearest town, are you saying you walked?"
“No,” Anakin said around a mouthful of food. "I just ended up out there.”
Ben frowned, "How do you mean ‘ended up’?”
"Just that. I was on Jedha then I woke up in a mud puddle… I think."
Ben took another sip of his tea. "You've still not given me your name. What do I call you?"
Anakin felt like sulking, "You really don't know it." It wasn’t a question.
"Well, I… you seem to talk a lot in your sleep, and I thought maybe you'd mention it, but strangely, I only heard my own name over and over.” He looked down then cleared his throat. “But I can't really understand how you know my given name.” He stroked his beard.
Anakin felt as confused as Ben – or actually Obi-Wan. But he did know he didn’t like the way that sounded. He couldn’t remember any part of his dreams except for whatever vision that he had of Ben in the field before he saw him out there. He was now afraid of anything he might have said.
He toyed briefly with giving a fake name, but then decided against it at the last minute. This was Obi-Wan… some Obi-Wan, and with him he was always Anakin. “It’s Anakin.”
"Anakin," Ben repeated softly.
He ducked his head and continued eating, hoping that the older man would find something else to stare at for a little while. But he could feel his eyes still on him.
After a prolonged silence, Anakin spoke up again. "I'm not from here, wherever here is." Ben stared at him but kept silent so Anakin would continue. "I'm from Coruscant. Well, that's where I live anyway… In the Jedi Temple."
Ben’s eyebrows raised briefly then he looked down into his mug. “You’re a ways from Coruscant.”
Well now they were getting somewhere, and at least Coruscant existed in this universe. "And where is here?"
"Stewjon," Ben said as he sat back in his chair.
Of course. Of course! It was so obvious now – he’d been sent to Obi-Wan’s birth planet for some reason. Maybe it would be a starting point for figuring out the how and why.
"And what of the war?"
"What war?"
“What war?” Anakin huffed, "THE war, Ben, the war against the Separatists!?"
Ben shook his head in response. "I'm afraid I don't know it. I try to keep up with news from the Core Worlds as much as possible, but I've never heard of a war or the Separatists. Though, from the name alone, I can possibly figure out their platform.”
Anakin leaned forward, settling his elbows on the table. "When I say I'm not from here, I mean, not from HERE – this universe." It was out there – now it was up to Ben to decide what to do with it. Ben's brow dipped slightly, but he remained silent. "I am a Jedi, a general in the Grand Army of the Republic, I was your…" He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. Did he even know the Jedi? He certainly wasn't his master here. "I was on a mission on Jedha, then… then, I woke up here."
Ben sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. He didn't believe him. Anakin could tell even though he said nothing.
He huffed again and ran a hand through his hair. "I want to get back, I need to get back. I don't belong here." Even if he could be at Obi-Wan’s side again, where he did belong.
Ben stroked his beard in thought. "Anakin, what you're saying… it's impossible. You can't hop to another universe. You can't travel through time or to another reality."
Anakin stood quickly, nearly upsetting the chair. "But I did it! And I’m here talking to you! An Obi-Wan who… who doesn't know or care anything about me!"
"Anakin, come now, that's not–" Ben started but Anakin wasn’t staying to listen.
He left the kitchen quickly and headed back to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. He threw himself down into the bed, wanting to scream into the pillow.
If he couldn’t even remember how he got here in the first place, how in the hell could he find a way back? And Ben clearly wasn’t going to help him. Anakin had no holocron here or a way to get back to Jedha to check. He couldn’t even get back to Coruscant, to the Temple. Maybe others like Mace and Yoda or Plo Koon existed here, even if he didn’t. Maybe they would know and could help him.
Anakin closed his eyes to keep the tears from slipping free, but they fell anyway, wetting the soft pillow underneath his head.
#obikin#obikin bingo#my writing#never a jedi au#alternate universe#universe travel#obi wan x anakin#fanfic#if you saw me reposting it#you probably didn't cos it wasn't showing up anywhere 😭
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I find that analysts from all countries often have too much regency bias or favorites bias and Charles doesn’t really have an analyst in his corner like that (maybe because there isn’t a Monegasque broadcasting service). Like people praise Max all the time now (rightly so ofc) but have forgotten that he made countless of mistakes in his earlier years of F1, even in his first championship year he still made mistakes. Yet somehow analysts never contributed that to “weak mental state”. Charles has made similar/the same mistakes as Max but somehow in his case it’s because he’s “not tough enough” just because Charles is ingrained with the Ferrari mindset of don’t let anything bad show to the outside world. Like that is the other side of the coin of working for Ferrari, you can’t show your frustrations with the team to the outside world like Max and Lewis can, but that doesn’t make him weak. I think people really underestimate Charles. Like 15 (?) yo Charles who after a pr training went up to the journalist and said “that was a stupid question because I would never be 2nd to my teammate”, etc. I can’t wait for Lewis to show up and for Charles to let (once again) show how good he is. He did it once with 4 time world champ Seb, he can do it again to Lewis.
Well, we do have this journalist in our corner:
"But a driver that possesses the special innate talent that Leclerc has will always abandon every element of caution when the upside to getting it right can be so prosperous, and he had every reason to back his chances after the success he had enjoyed only the previous weekend.
Throughout his F1 career, Leclerc has always been characterised as a competitor that is willing to leave no stone unturned in order to chase unlikely feats – no matter how slim the chances may appear from the outset.
Coupled with his aggressive driving style of preferring a pointy front end that he uses to chuck a car into corners alongside a dynamic use of the brake and throttle pedals, his preparedness to take more risks than other drivers runs a higher danger of him overstepping the mark.
However, that approach is not the sign of an aggressive, hot-headed driver that is struggling to define the limit, but rather one that is pursuing perfection and striving to extract the maximum from himself that sometimes certain cars are physically incapable of producing such demands.
Although Leclerc’s declaration he would be unwilling to change his driving style might ring sudden alarm bells of a driver that is too stubborn to change his ways, he has ample reason to back his outlook on matters. There’s previous evidence that with a competitive and compliant car, his mistakes drastically reduce in number. When Ferrari had a package that was both benign in its balance and capable of running at the front on pure pace at the start of 2022 Leclerc was able to rattle off six pole positions in eight qualifying sessions untroubled."
This was post-Miami 2023 when Charles was being crucified left and right for binning his car and being mistake-prone, yet he had done superbly in Baku the race before. Read the whole article here:
I agree with you: too many people underestimate Charles. While I think the world of Lewis, and hope he does really well at Ferrari, I hope Charles does better and he will be able to turn this "he's too nice/weak/whatever" narrative around. Because I don't want him to change his personality one bit as far as how he treats people around him, nor his attitude of giving it everything when he's out on track.
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bring back zooterkins, the best 17th-century swear word
I don't normally do Just Characters Swearing, but. ...this kind of wrote itself and then wouldn't leave my head. it comes from both a piece of character-writing advice that has always stuck with me, and also my conviction that Leona is 1000% funnier as a character if his dialogue has to stay G-rated. let Kalim say fuck, but don't let Leona say bastard.
(I'm sorry)
#art#twisted wonderland#(sort of atemporally somewhere between episodes 6 and 7?)#(i - i wanted that lilia joke okay)#long post#tumblr went 'you can post up to 30 images now :)' and i was like well okay then#anyway once again i'm sorry#i'd say i don't know why i did this but actually it is because i wanted kalim to scandalize everyone#i tried to keep it...you know...tasteful. a tasteful amount of fucks.#hey remember how the framing premise for the original birthday interviews was that yuu worked for the school paper#because i have never forgotten. in my head they are still getting up to all kinds of wacky reporting hijinks.
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love procrastinating going to bed and then suddenly thinking about how I need to give at least one of my characters VERY strong opinions on different animal species RIGHT FUCKING NOW
#Local Spider Yells At Clouds#like??? characters having strong opinions about things that mean jack shit is just really fun to me#I'm gonna try to think of some animals each character would like and dislike real quick off the top of my head#first thought: Gamma is probably both fascinated and deeply terrified by deep sea fish#like!! he thinks the fish themselves are pretty neat!! (it helps that Alice makes freakier looking things on a regular basis)#but everything about WHERE THEY LIVE freaks him the fuck out#man is hydrophobic already!! learning about water pressure and what it could do to a person might make him pass out#very next thought: Lydia probably likes frogs. I feel like they're not her FAVOURITE animal tho. top 5 definitely#very strange that I'm saying that while also having no idea what her ACTUAL favourite animal would be but eh. that's how it goes sometimes.#she probably likes tree frogs the best because those are peak Silly Little Guys#none of these are STRONG opinions tho!!!! I want a character who's either ride or die for a very specific animal#or a character who looks at this particular animal and goes ''I want this bitch GONE FROM EARTH''#...actually I just realized. I gave NONE of the Realm kiddos animal-loving as a core trait#HOW did I do that???? I MADE THESE FUCKERS WHEN I WAS STILL A KID AND WAS WAITING TO BE ABLE TO VOLUNTEER AT THE LOCAL ANIMAL SHELTER!!#TWO OF THESE BITCHES STARTED AS STRAIGHT-UP SELF INSERTS AND NONE OF THEM HAVE ''LIKES CREATURES'' AS A MAIN CHARACTER TRAIT?????#the easy answer would be to say Lydia or Dylan but. that's the easy answer.#oh yeah make the super-friendly character care about animals a lot. real original there me#...aw it'd be sad if it was Cynthia#because. no memories. any pets she had back on Earth are long forgotten by now.#and because of her role in the camp she'd probably never let herself get a pet either... never rediscovering her love for animals at all#this started with a dumb one-off thought about how I need to give my characters more stupid hills to die on#and ended with me remembering just how damn depressing Cynthia's memory wipe really is as a plot point lmao#it's just like. remembering that she used to have a LIFE before all of this!!#she had passions and joys and all of it got THROWN IN THE TOILET due to circumstances beyond her control!!!#and because of a choice she made herself she has no idea there was ever something else her life could have been!!!#...then again. maybe that was the point.#anyways!!!!!!!! sorry for the blog being dead for a bit lol#getting back into writing now so I'll probably get the queue running again shortly!!
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I need a feral and unhinged, touch starved Bucky to ruin me.
He’s selfish in giving and taking.
He's gone years without touching his cock, no orgasm, no relief, nothing. Any experience he has had has been long forgotten. The man loves getting his cock sucked. There’s something so filthy about the way he goes feral for it, torn between throwing his head back in pleasure and watching his cock disappear into your mouth.
He used to be such a gentleman but he can’t anymore.
He's a fucking menace because he loves how dirty it is, having his dick in your mouth of all places, letting you slobber and drool all over his length, getting his balls wet in the process.
He doesn't give a fuck who hears either, letting anyone and everyone know his cock is in your mouth, that he's getting the best head of his life.
"Fuck, suck me princess, just-yeah just like that, sucking my cock so good babydoll, makin' me so hard"
You let out a muffled whine in response, still on your knees, tears streaking down your face while he holds your face, his thumbs swiping your wet cheeks. He bites his lip while thrusting his hips forward, pushing his length down your throat. You claw at his thighs, gagging and he lets out a delicious moan seeing your arousal starting to drip with how turned on you are.
"You're makin' me feel so good sugar, you know that? Y'have any idea how good my dick feels right now, how much cum there is in my balls?" He takes a a hand off his thigh and makes you cup his heavy sack, guiding you to squeeze him while you suck, the combined feeling making his eyes roll back.
"C'mon princess, suck my balls next, never had them sucked before-oh fuck-yeah-just like that baby shit-oh fuck feels so good-" His abs tense as he moans loudly again, jerking himself while you move to lap and suck at his sack, precum dribbling down, making a mess everywhere.
He might as well be addicted to the feeling. On more than one occasion, he's missed morning training because you decided to wake him up with head and he loses himself to you, not giving a shit who is waiting for him at the door.
He hears the knocks, hears them calling for him and he'll let them know what's keeping him so busy.
"Buck, you coming-?"
"Oh Fuck yes! Suck my cock, yes, yes, yes, gonna cum, drink it up baby, c'mon, swallow, fuck yes, m'gonna cum again-don't stop princess"
"Well...technically he's coming" Sam snorted, hearing every filthy word the super soldier spewed out while Steve bit back a smirk, "I think your best friend is busy"
Steve couldn't help the proud smile that made it's way onto his face, shaking his head, quickly walking away before round two started.
Tony occasionally goes as far as cheering outside of Bucky's bedroom, especially when the steady thump of the headboard banging against the wall can be heard from downstairs.
No point hiding anything from Tony, especially when he's the one who had to install the xl mirror in the bedroom Bucky requested and god knows he didn't ask for it because he's into fashion.
He's gonna put you in positions that are unholy as it gets. He wants to watch every detail. He's gonna throw your legs all the way back till your knees hit the bed. He wants to watch his cock stretch you open. He's gonna experimentally flick that little button between your legs, using it as his own personal play toy, rubbing and pinching it to his delight just to hear you squeal.
“That’s-that’s your spot, huh princess-take my fat cock baby, doin' so good, moaning for me" He growls, watching he way you take his cock. His favorite thing to do is lock eyes with you in the mirror while your on your hands and knees watching you watch him while he fucks your brains out. Your breasts bounce with each thrust and he doesn't know what he loves to watch more. God forbid your eyes roll back, he spanks you till you focus again.
"Look at me when you take my cock baby, look at how pretty you are when you're all stretched open"
"Sargent-I-fuck-can't-
"Yeah, can't even speak huh, that how good your pussy feels baby? You wanna cum? Want me to make you cum?"
"Please!" You wail and he grabs your hair and pulls you till your back is flush against his chest. He forces your thighs apart as wide as they'll go before grabbing his phone and positioning it under, getting a perfect video of his cock pumping you full of cum while his fingers reach around to rub your swollen button.
"Go on and cum baby, cum with me, together, make your Sargent proud princess, make me dick feel good, fuck, gonna fill you till it spills out, mother fucker-FUCKK" He moans loudly with you, letting your convulsing pussy milk him dry, his veins throbbing as he shoots ropes of cum into you. The end of the video is blurry after all his cum drips onto the screen but it makes it so much filthier.
He's going to record all of this along with taking pictures, always getting you to spread your legs for him, laying on his bed after he's poured load after load into you. I want him to be the dirtiest fuck, looking at all the pictures and videos he's taken, jerking himself off afterwards when you're away for a mission. He can't have you but he's gonna take what he can get. He loves how you moan and scream, how cock drunk you get. A part of him almost feels like a pervert, tugging at his dick like a horny teenager but he can't keep his hands off when he thinks of you.
He's fucking feral even when he jerks off. Legs spread wide apart, no clothes on, back arched off the bed, fucking his hips up into his fist. He doesn't care if you walk in anymore. He was shy at first but now he just smirks while continuing to lazily touch himself, using his own spend to palm himself, the other arm propped behind his head. He knows you love the sight, planting his feet onto the bed to give you a better view while you take your clothes off-
Anyway, my bad, this was sitting in the drafts for long enough, you can go about your day now.
#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fluff#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#marvel smut#marvel fanfic#marvel fanfiction#marvel fanfics#avengers fluff#avenger fanfiction#avengers smut#avengers fanfiction#bucky barnes fan fic#bucky barnes fanmix#bucky barnes fan fiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky fan fiction#bucky fan fic#bucky fandom#bucky fanfic#bucky imagine#james bucky buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes
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there sure is never a dull day in your life ever since you somehow bumped your head somewhere and decided to marry gojo satoru.
he was, without a doubt, the most dramatic man you'd ever known.
“why aren’t you obsessed with me?”
and here he goes again making your marriage life comically interesting from his never-ending theatrics that you can’t help but adore.
he isn’t gojo satoru if he wasn’t dramatic, after all. it was all part of the deal, one you gladly accepted, promising to be by his side in sickness and in health.
“good morning to you, too, baby,” you responded, a smile tugging at your lips. “what’s got you worked up this early?”
leaning against the bathroom door frame, his eyes fixed on you as you diligently performed your morning skincare routine. sunlight streamed through the window, casting a soft, warm glow, making your features radiant as you applied your cleanser. and for a moment of sight, he got too lost in your beauty and almost forgot his plan of interrogation.
but still, he needs to get to the bottom of this. “listen, i’m not looking for an argument, just understanding.”
“okay, then,” you said, still attending to your skincare routine. “let’s hear this seeking of understanding.”
gojo’s gaze remained fixed on you as he considered his words carefully, “why aren't you obsessed with me like how i'm obsessed with you?”
“i’m in love with you.” you replied instantly, without a second in waste. because that’s how it has always been, loving gojo satoru and declaring it to the world was as easy as breathing.
you threw a side glance to your lover only to be met with glassy sky blue eyes looking at you and a pout telling you it wasn’t the right answer to the question.
“but you’re not obsessed with me,” he mumbles. “while i think about you every single minute of the day – in my sleep, in my lunch – i think about you, and i don’t think you think about me at all.”
“and where could this be coming from?”
“i was gone for 13 hours, and you only called me once. once, baby. do you even care about me?”
you attempt to explain, “you were on a mission—”
“i could have an injury,” he interjects, “i could have bumped my head somewhere, had amnesia, and forgotten about you.”
you couldn’t help but laugh at the possibilities he laid out just because you only called him once. finishing your skincare with a swift application of lip balm, you make your way to your lover, who is now resting his left temple against the doorjamb while earnestly watching you with the same look in his eyes from when you walked down the aisle.
“i think that’s fairly impossible, though,” you muse. your hands naturally find their way to his neck. “my husband is the strongest.”
strongest in the eyes of sorcerers and curses, perhaps, he is. but here? with you pressed close to him like this? he was nothing of any sort the strongest.
“what your husband right now is not the strongest but an unloved husband who couldn’t get his partner to call him to check on him,” he teases, putting great stress on ‘your’ because he was, in fact, yours.
“aw, must have been hard for him, huh?” you coo, going along with his teasing, “what can i possibly do to make up for it?”
“you can start with a kiss here,” he gestures to his lips, and you gladly oblige with a soft peck.
“too easy. what’s the next step?”
“and i want you to be obsessed with me. call me multiple times a day. text me. email me if you want.”
“okay, done. do you want me to write you a letter as well, like we’re in the '80s?” you sarcastically replied.
“sure, i’d love that,” he says with a chuckle before pulling you close enough to rest your head in the crook of his neck, his jaw resting on your temple as he caresses your back.
you closed your eyes, finding comfort in his warmth, and relishing every soft little kiss planted on your temple, until you felt his head drop onto your shoulder.
“i think about you every second of the day,” he whispers right in your ear.
jokes of being obsessed with you aside, it was truly a confession.
you could be beside gojo, peacefully slumbering, and there would always be that wave of need threading in his chest to be closer to you.
and behind his theatrics, none of his words held any bite of hoax. because after all these years, it still wouldn't sink in to him that there was someone who could take him for a husband.
but you're here – waking up next to him, doing your skincare next to his own set of toiletries, roaming around the house wearing his shirt, gracing the quiet corners of his soul with your laughter.
you're here, and it's everything and more that truly matters.
as you reach to cradle his face in your palms, you feel a squeeze in your chest from how he closes his eyes as if melting in your touch.
“even after all this time? you might get sick of me, my love.” you ask, a smile so evident behind.
“never,” he declares against your lips, a boyish curl of his lips slowly showing. “you, on the other hand, might get sick of me soon. seeing that you couldn't even call me twice after those long hours i wasn't home.”
you playfully roll your eyes at his accusation, of course he wouldn't let it off that easy. “i promise to call you twice and text you as much as i can. how's that sound now?” you hum.
“promise?”
“i promise,” you assure, sealing it with a kiss on the tip of his nose, “and what do you mean, get sick of you? that’s nonsense. i told you right? it’s you for me.”
you for me. oh, how he likes the thought. sheepishly, he whispers in question, “even after all this time?”
“until the end of time, toru.”
until the end of time. oh, heaven and earth, how he loves the thought.
note. i miss him... terribly, i'm afraid. btw, here's a payback for all the angst..
#☁️ my ode to you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#gojo satoru fluff
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Have My Baby
Pairing: Mafia!Max x Reader
Words: 4.6K
Rating: R
Warnings: Smut, breeding kink, slight size kink, p in v, oral (f receiving), wrap it before you tap it, dirty talk, mention of murder, etc.
Synopsis: Max wants another baby, but he'd have to convince you first.
A/N: I could cry with finally finishing this, @leclerced, @mariahcarreyyy, and @piastrification since here go babes, hope you love it, since I kept bothering y'all about it. Sorry, love ya ♥️
"Daddy, when do we go see Tante Victoria?" Max looks down and sees Casper playing with his toy cars on the floor. Max was getting ready to go into the office today, having just gotten out of the shower, and debated shaving. "Why would we go see Tante Victoria?" Max picks up the razor, still thinking it over. "Because Mama said she had a baby," Max hums, put the razor down, and moves into the closet.
He slid on his briefs and black dress pants, pulled out a belt, and weaved it through the holes. "That's right. She did have a baby, but she needs to heal first," Max explains, groaning, knees popping as he sits on the floor, joining Casper in playing cars. Are Mama and you going to have another baby?" Max chuckles, but honestly, that thought has been in his mind for a while.
Max wanted nothing more than to have a baby girl, but he needed to slowly convince you. You weren't in love when you two had Casper and Fabian—far from it. The marriage was arranged, and Max was so cold-hearted to you; the only reason the twins were born was out of the duty of needing an heir. Instead, he got two. Max slowly broke down when the boys were around five months old, and something in him changed forever.
It was maybe when someone tried to kill you three, he just snapped, and it made him aware of his feelings. Max didn't want a weakness, yet not showing it created one anyway.
Shaking his head, he leans over and kisses Casper on top of the head, who looks up with identical eyes, smiling. "Daddy, can we go wake Mama?" Max nods and stands, picking up Casper and carrying him into the bedroom. You lay there, sleeping peacefully, clutching onto Max's forgotten pillow. "Be gentle, mijn lieve engel." Casper nods and slowly crawls up, and Max smiles.
He never thought that five years after the twins were born, he would be carrying his little boy and happy at the thought of you waking up and smiling at him. "Mama, the sun is up; you should be up," Max smirks, seeing a small smile pull at your lips, fingers twitching. You probably woke when Caspian first came in and started to play on the bathroom floor while Max showered.
Casper loved being near Max, constantly surrounded by his father, and Max adored it. Fabian was always by your side; Max loved them both equally, but Casper reminded him of him when he was that age. He loved cars and wanted to be by his father. Max refuses to be like his father, but he still remembers the day he snapped at Casper, and the poor baby was terrified of him. Max still never fully forgave himself for that.
"Mama, wake up. Daddy and I need kisses." Max chuckles, moves to your side of the bed, and sits on the edge of it. Yeah, we need kisses," he whispers, giggling. You open your eyes and see your perfect boys, minus the one who loved sleep more than anything. "Well, let me pay the kiss tax then," Sitting up, you kiss Casper all over his face, turning your head. Max is quick and steals a quick kiss before kissing you again, this time slower.
"Ewwww," Casper gags, making you two giggle and pull him into a hug. "Go wake your brother," Max picks up Casper, who kicks and then runs down the hall, yelling Fabian's name. "Good morning," You breathe, and Max swoops down, stealing another kiss; you sigh, feeling his bare chest against your skin. "Go put on another shirt, we don't need another baby," You joke, but Max doesn't laugh. He wants another baby.
"Victoria had her baby." You smile, and Max nods. He wasn't very close to his sister, just enough to have a relationship, but with him being the head of the Dutch Mafia, Victoria didn't want her kids or husband in harm's way. He respected it. "Yes, a little girl. Is she cute?" Max asks, walking to the closet and grabbing a white button-down. "She's so adorable," You gush; you loved being an aunt but a mother even more.
Max smirked and walked back in, buttoning up his shirt. "Our baby girl would be cuter," He makes the comment offhanded, knowing you wouldn't think much of him saying that. He always liked to say your boys were cuter than his nephews. "Yeah," You whisper, looking at the picture of your niece with a smile. Max smiles and moves, pulling you close by your ankles, causing a squeal.
"Hey, you know I love you, right?" Max rarely said it, so when he did, it always caught you off guard and made you nervous. "I know, I've always known." You whisper, pressing your foreheads together before kissing him gently. "Go say bye to the boys. Come home safe to me." Max nods and kisses you one more time, savoring the moment. Sighing, he pulls away and heads to the boy's rooms.
He stops just a little from their door, hearing their laughter and play fighting. "You'll never win!" Fabby yells, and Casper's loud giggles fill the room. Max could listen to that sound for the rest of his life if he could. He did this job so they could laugh and have that innocence for a little longer. Moving, he knocks on the door and pokes his head in; blinking fast, he takes in the scene before him.
"Casper, why are your pants on your head?" The twins giggle like it's some secret, making Max smile softly and enter the room. "We're bandits, Daddy," Fabian says in an obvious tone as if Max should've known what they were doing. "Bandits, hm, alright, my little bandits, get dressed and eat breakfast. I've got to go to work." Max yanks the pj pants off Casper's head, who giggles and grabs some shorts and t-shirts.
Crouching down, Max helps the twins get dressed, giving each a hug and kiss. "Be good for your mother, understand me, little bandits?" Both boys nod, "Boys! Breakfast!" The twins shove each other all the way, laughter on their trail. Max stands and walks past the kitchen; catching your eye, he winks and walks out the door.
"Mommy, sleepy." Looking up, you see the time and notice you missed their nap. Placing your book down, you let Fabby crawl into your arms as Casper was knocked out on the floor. "Can we watch cartoons?" Kissing the top of his head, you pull him closer and nod. "Of course, Scooby-doo?" Fabby's little head moves up and down quickly.
Hearing the theme, you settle in, but with the warmth and weight of your baby, you, too, fall asleep.
Max hated when you didn't answer his calls, but honestly, it was the perfect excuse to get away from work, leaving everything to the kids and letting them get trigger-happy. He was getting older and didn't find the thirst for blood anymore; it's crazy how you and the kids have changed him so much.
There was also a slight butterfly feeling in his stomach. He learned this was called anxiety from you. He was never one to be anxious, but after you had the boys, whenever you didn't answer, or you weren't wearing your tracker. Max gifted you a first-anniversary diamond necklace; it was small, perfect, and didn't draw attention. While the diamond was perfect, underneath it was a little tracker.
You knew it was a tracker and always wore it for your protection. Today, though, you and the boys were having a lazy day as the nice weather had taken a turn, and it was raining. Max tries hard not to think the worst, as the guards alert him that no one has entered or even left the penthouse, so he knows you and the boys are safe. Pulling up, he doesn't bother locking the car as he steps into the elevator and hits his floor.
Living at the top pays off, especially when you own the building. Stepping off, he nods to his guards, and they move back downstairs, where they had only stayed in the house when Max wasn't home. Smiling, he hears the Scooby-Doo cartoon and slowly moves into the living room and stops, taking in the scene before him.
You lay on the couch with Fabby and Casper cuddled into you. Max can't help but think back to when they were newborns when you and Max would be so tired and fall asleep on the couch with them curled between you two. It was Max's first memory of truly falling in love with you and the kids. Moving closer, he leans over the couch and kisses your cheek gently. "Love you," He whispers, removes his shoes to not wake you three, and heads to the kitchen.
Seeing the staff, Max smiles and waves them off. "Have the night off; I can cook." They all nod, say their thanks, and leave out the back door, and Max smiles, thinking about the cook. Rummaging through the fridge, he finds chicken, nuggets, and other foods. He steps up the grill and turns it on. Max moves around cooking dinner and smiles at the finishing products. Grabbing the plates, he places the plates down and puts the boy's sippy cups and you in a small glass of wine with water, and he just drinks water.
Walking in, he sees Casper is awake and makes grabby hands for his Dad. "Take a good nap with Mommy?" Casper lays his head on Max's shoulder and nods his head. "Hungry?" Casper nods again, Max taking him, placing him in his chair, and passing him his apple juice. "Thank you, Daddy." Max turns and feels his heart melt, seeing his sweet boy so soft and warm. "You're welcome, Casper; I will get your mother and brother. Be good." Casper nods and stares at the strawberries beside the meal, and Max chuckles.
Heading in, he leans against the door frame, watching as you trace the outline of Fabian's sleeping face. "Makes me want another," You whisper, sensing Max's eyes watching you. Your husband has to take a deep breath to stop his body from reacting; smiling sweetly, he walks over and pulls you two into his arms. "I wouldn't mind another," You smile hearing those words but shake your head slightly as Fabby whines and rubs his eyes.
"Buddy, I made dinner. Are you ready?" Fabby sits up, and you're lucky you have fast reflexes. You lean back quickly when Fabian runs into the dining room. "You cooked?" You weren't shocked. Max used to cook for you all the time initially, but he stopped a while ago. I felt like doing it while you were sleeping with the boys." Max helps you up and pulls you into his chest, kissing the tip of your nose.
"I made you a salad if you want it. But I grilled chicken, rice, and some veggies. The boys are eating cut-up grilled chicken, a little serving of mac and cheese, and their favorite fruit. I will also try to get them to try out veggies." You swear you fall in love with him all over again hearing that. "You're hot being a dad, you know that?" Max chuckles and leads you to the dining room.
"I'm a daddy," You laugh, smacking his stomach as you join your two boys for dinner.
"Victoria, she's adorable." You coo, washing your hands, eagerly waiting to hold your baby niece. Victoria and her family decided to pay a visit after she was feeling better. Victoria knew it'd be easier to visit and safer for her to come to you four. Fabian and Casper look into the car seat, staring as their cousins play with Max on the floor.
"Mommy, can we have one?" Fabian turns, staring at you with wide eyes, and you think for a moment. Max's attention suddenly zeroes in on you. Fabby, why don't you go play with your Dad and cousins," You deflect the question, and Max stares at you; looking sideways, you blush at the way your husband is staring at you. "Here you go," you sit down and happily take the baby into your arms, Max clears his throat and tells the boys to run off.
The four terrors run down the hall to the twins, and Max stands, fixes his pants, and sits down next to you. "What do you think?" You giggle at Max's dumb question but really consider it. Did you really want a third? Recently, you've been seeing the kid's old baby stuff around, making you miss having a baby in the house. "Can I?" Max whispers as your niece has fallen asleep.
Victoria smiled, relaxing as her husband was watching the boys, letting her have a breath. Max gently takes the baby and stands, rocking side to side, and damn if it didn't do something to you. Seeing your husband in his suit holding a baby girl did something to you in a way you couldn't understand. It made your body light up with need, making it impossible to sit still.
Max knew what he was doing to you; it was a dirty trick, really. He noticed how you reacted to some character on a show who was still in his suit and holding his child. Max ensured they arrived right when he got home, so he had no excuse to change. Seeing how your breathing has picked up, your pupils dilated to the point he couldn't see the color in your eyes.
"Tori, she's so lovely," Max whispers, gently lowering the baby into the little cot. He smiles when she grabs his finger and holds on tight. And strong, too," he giggles and can't help but imagine holding his little girl. A little girl with your hair and his eyes, he could picture it. "Daddy, can we have one?" Max looks down, sees Casper, and chuckles, kneeling slowly with the baby in his arms. "You want another sibling?" Casper nods and leans, kissing his cousin's head gently before running down the hall.
You can't help but think about liking another baby in the house.
Standing in the bathroom, you gently remove your makeup and watch Max climb out of the shower. "Max?" Wrapping the towel around his waist, he grabs his toothbrush. He looks at you through the mirror, waiting for you to continue. "Um, I've been thinking about having another baby," you look down, embarrassed to even say this. "So have I, I'd like a little girl, but I'd be okay with another boy," Shrugging his shoulders, he starts to brush his teeth while you smile. "Yeah, I'd like a little girl too," Picturing yourself holding a baby with a pink hat.
"Do you have to go?" Holding your tea, you sit on the ottoman as Max packs a bag, fast and filled with anger. "Yes, I don't want to go, trust me. The last thing I want to do is leave you and the boys," Zipping it up, he almost breaks the zipper and leans on his dresser, the tension like a rubberband ready to snap.
"I'll tell them you went to visit Victoria," You never liked telling the boys what their father was really doing; they're only four years old. "That's smart, considering she lives far." Max stands up and faces you. It was early, far too early for you to even be up. But, the sound of his phone going off woke you, and here you sat with one lamp, wearing his shirt and drinking tea.
He couldn't love you more. "I love you," He can't help the words pass his lips as he stalks forward, pulling you up and kissing you deeply, but with such passion, you want to cry. It was the kiss he gave you, the same one that said goodbye in such a strange way that made your soul ache. Pulling away, Max smiles, seeing your eyes closed, taking in the kiss. "Come back to me," You whisper, eyes fluttering open as you stare into his. "I'll burn the world down to come home to you." Kissing you gently all over your face, arms strong around your body.
Kissing you one last time, he slips into the shadows, leaving you cold. You never thought Max would be your warmth.
"Mommy, I miss Daddy," Fabian whispers as you tuck him into bed. It was the fifth night Max was gone, and you were trying to explain why he had been gone so long. "I know, baby, I miss Daddy too." Lying on his bed, Casper is fast asleep and curled around his lion plushie Max got him when they were firstborn. Fabian curls more into your side as you read him another bedtime story. Soft breaths pull your attention, and you see Fabian is now passed out, clutching his lion stuffie close.
Sliding slowly off the bed, you're careful not to wake him. Bending down, you ghost over a kiss on both your boy's heads, slipping out of the room and closing the door. Resting your back on the door, you wish you had Max with you; the boys would love to sleep in your bed with your husband. They always slept with you two when he came back from his trips.
Closing your eyes, you take another deep breath, push off, and head to your bedroom. You hated how cold it felt still, how much you craved to smell just a hint of his cologne, his gummy smile when the boys did something that made him so happy, the way he moved through the house like he wasn't there, but you knew from the giggles that trailed him. You missed him in such a way that ached deep within. You fall asleep crying.
Max groans, rolling his neck as he steps into the penthouse. His guards nod, but he waves them away and slips his shoes off, not wanting to wake anyone. Max wants to slip into a hot shower, pull you into his arms, and fall asleep. He wants nothing more than to grab the boys, but he worries that seeing him slightly bruised and cut will scare them. So he just heads to your shared room and slips in; noticing how you're curled around his pillow, he feels a deep pang in his heart.
He missed you the most during the night, wanting nothing more than to reach over and feel your body melt into his. It's been cold at night, and he no longer refuses to deal with that. Sighing, he pulls at his shirt, groaning quietly as his ribs ache from the cuts and bruises on them. Mud and blood in his hair, face, and clothes, burying a dead body was not easy. Especially when the body used to be one of your men. Turning on the shower, his muscles relax as he thinks about how good it will feel to have the warmth on his cold-bitten skin.
Stripping off the rest of the clothes, Max stretches, steps into the shower, and groans at the heat seeping deep into his skin. Closing his eyes, Max leans his head back and enjoys the silence of his own home. Max craved silence as he grew up with such anger and hatred it was never quiet. Now, he loved the silence here, but it was a different type of silence. The silence meant everyone was happy, loved, and at peace. Max loved the noise; it was no longer filled with anger and hatred. It was one filled with childlike innocence and happiness; he craved it while he was away.
Max opens his eyes and smiles, turning his head and seeing the outline of your figure. "Join me?" It was a soft ask that required you to lift his shirt over your head and drop it. Max craved to feel your skin against him, like air, and he couldn't breathe. "You're home," You whisper, sighing when Max pulls you close to each other's naked body. "I'm home," He whispers, resting his forehead on your shoulder blade. You loved having his body pressed against you, which made you feel safe, but it was also dizzy. Max was built and bigger than you, and it just made your brain go fuzzy around the edges.
Max knew what he was doing, pushing his body against you; you made it no secret that you loved he was bigger than you. "Max," You whisper, running your hands down his back as he presses himself against you, pressing kisses over your neck and shoulder. "Max," You whimper as his teeth scrape the weak spot over your neck that makes your legs feel weak. "Yes, Schat?" His voice husky and deep, pulling back his eyes dilated and dark. "I want another baby," You whisper, slowly spreading your legs, and Max groans.
Reaching down, you let your head thump back on the glass as his rough fingers ghost over your lips. "Yeah? Do you want another baby? Want me to fill you so deep?" His voice turns into a growl, fingers moving and pinching your clit before rubbing slow circles. You whimper, grabbing onto his shoulders, and nod your head fast. "Yes, fuck please, fuck me so deep, use me. Please, Max." You beg, the ache between your legs growing so that you could cry from him just burying himself deep inside you.
Max smirks, moving his hand up your back and into your hair, grabbing it and pulling your head back, and you hiss, the burn scratching something deep in you. "Spread your legs, my little siren." You giggle, having not heard that nickname in so long. You clumsily grab the bars in the shower and spread your legs, Max slowly getting to his knees and pressing kisses on your hip. "Sorry," You apologize, and Max arches an eyebrow. "Siren, I don't care." He chuckles at the hair. He could give a damn.
You gasp, closing your eyes when his tongue flattens and suddenly licks up and down with slow, long stripes. Body relaxing, you let your weight fall on his face, and he groans, feeling it. Large hands move up the back of your legs before slapping your ass. A surprised laugh escapes you, and Max smirks, blue eyes bright, as his lips wrap around your clit and suck before letting go and moving his tongue fast before slowing down. His hands move away from your ass and hold onto your hips and groan, feeling the way you're getting puffy.
He's missed this feeling, the way your pussy feels on his face. He could die like this happily. You whine at Max's pace, and he moves one of his hands, fingers moving down and slowly entering you before curling and moving in and out. You sigh, the feeling in you turning warm as you feel that slight tightness in the stomach grow more and more. Max, feeling your warm and cushy, pulls, pulls his fingers out and lays one last kiss. You open your eyes, vision hazy as you slip, and Max catches you holding you up.
"Turn around, siren." You nod and turn around, spreading your legs as you feel him stand right behind you. He groans, staring at your ass, slapping it, the sound bouncing off the shower walls. You groan, dropping your head at the heavy feeling of his hand slapping you. Max smirks as he jerks himself slowly. He moves and rubs himself between your lips, and your mouth waters, missing the weight of him in you. "Max, don't tease me." You beg, and he chuckles, leaning over your back.
His hand grabs your throat and arches you back. "Don't mouth off to me, siren, or else I'll choke you with my cock instead." Moaning at the idea, he chuckles and slowly slides in, your mouth dropping open as he stretches you open with a delicious feeling. Max bottoms out, groaning as he takes in the sight of your back arching and the reflection of the glass, your mouth open and eyes rolled back. "Ready?" You nod at his question as he pulls back and then forward.
The motion has you rocking forward, slamming your hands on the glass they drag down as his hips slam hard on your ass, fucking you hard and deep. "Fuck, feel so damn good." You whimper, trying to find something to hold onto. Reaching around, Max takes both your wrists in his large hand and pulls your arms back. The sting of everything itched something deep in you. "Right there, fuck Max," Max smirks and pulls your arms and moves his hips faster, watching your tits bounce; leaning back, he enjoys the view of him pulling out and being swallowed by your pussy.
Max pulls you, and you whimper at the loss. Spinning you around, he picks you up with ease, and you whine as he presses your back onto the cold shower window and you whine. Max wraps his arms under your legs and places your ankles on his shoulders as he slides into you again. Your fingers pull at his short blonde strands, groaning; he fucks deeper into you from this angle.
"Want a baby? Want me to fuck a baby into you? Fuck, you'd look gorgeous all swollen with my baby. Goddamn," Max groans, his legs burning, but he doesn't care to be driven by his need to fill you and make sure you know who's gotten you pregnant. "Yes, please, Max," You cry, tears swimming in your eyes. "Yeah, going to fuck you, full baby, beg for it." You whimper as you try to find the words, but your mind is blank, just being so fucked out of it. Max groans and reaches down, rubbing his thumb over your sensitive clit. "Max," Your voice is airy and squeaky as you feel everything in your body becoming hot and tight.
"Going to come around, my cock; such a good girl for me, my good girl." You whine as he angles his hips and hits your spot. As you close your eyes and open your mouth, no noise emerges as you surround him. Max still fucks you through it and groans before pulling out and then sliding deep inside you and coming, his muscles so damn tight they could snap as he continued to fuck you, making sure it was staying inside.
You whine as he pulls you and slowly sits you down. "Max," Your throat raw, but he moves and slides two fingers in you, making sure nothing drips out. You whine, sensitive, and he kisses your face gently. "Sorry, want to make sure nothing goes to waste." He whispers and pulls his fingers out, and sucks them into his mouth. "Let's finish showering." Nodding your head, too tired to keep your eyes open, he smiles and holds you close as he cleans you both.
Picking you up bridal style, he dries you off and dresses you. Kissing you gently, he lays you in bed. But he doesn't lay down just yet, pulling on some boxers and shorts; he doesn't like not having the boys here. "I'm getting the boys," you whine as an answer, breathing evening out as you fall back asleep. Max smiles and moves through the house, going to the twins' room. Stepping in, he smiles, seeing them both with their lion stuffies. Moving carefully, not wanting to step on stray toys, he scoops both boys up and smiles at their weights in his arms.
Casper whines but cuddles closer, and Fabby just lies like dead weight. Walking back to the bedroom, he lays them down gently and tucks them in before climbing in. Max smiles, pulls you three close, and sighs. Max never wanted to give this up.
#f1#formula 1#f1 fandom#formula one#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x y/n#f1 scenario#f1 fics#f1 angst#f1 smut#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen smut#max verstappen scenario#mafia!f1#f1!mafia#mafia!max verstappen#f1 blurb#f1 max verstappen#mv1#mv1 x reader#mv1 imagine#mv1 fic
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HIIII so i had an idea for like a reader that's crushing on alastor, and angel dust making jokes about it in front of alastor and basically what would happen once he catches on
Have a lovely day, get good sleep!!!<33 luv ur writing<33
a/n: hello sweets <3 thank you and i hope you like this!
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Alastor has watched you splash your martini all over Angel's face so many times this week, he's almost certain the star is provoking you on purpose just for a free drink.
In the short time he's come to know him, he's learned that if there's one thing Angel Dust is good at—besides looking pretty on film—it's that he can be absolutely shameless.
Alastor remembers, with a twinge of disgust, that the spider had once told him he came with built in reins. That comment kept him seething for hours.
And now, poor you, having fallen into the trap of his intricate web—the Radio Demon would be laughing if he didn't actually feel slightly bad for you. He knows what it's like to be on the receiving end of those comments, after all.
You, unlike your four-armed friend, have a capacity for shame the likes of which have never been seen before. All hot cheeks and wide eyes, lips pulled into a straight, thin line—embarrassment burns in every corner of your expression.
Though, that's probably why Angel has taken such a liking to teasing you.
Here he is again, crawling over the bar to get into your face as soon as Alastor appears in the room. His voice is low and melodic, so quiet the Overlord can't quite make out the words until—
"Look, hun. Your prince charming!"
Alastor raises a brow as he takes his seat next to you at the bar, setting down his newspaper.
"What was that?" He asks, eyes flickering between you and a coy-looking Angel Dust.
"Oh, nothin'. That right, sugar?"
You look nothing but utterly defeated, martini forgotten and abandoned. "Angel..." you mutter in warning. The spider only shrugs and gives you a toothy little grin.
"Hey Smiles," Angel suddenly grabs you by the cheeks and turns your face to look in Alastor's direction. You only blink at each other in surprise. "Cute, eh?"
You quickly smack his hand away from you, swivelling around to glare. "Quit it!"
Angel puts his hands up in mock surrender. He huffs, backing off. "Okay, okay! Fine! You two are unbelievable."
With that, he stalks off to bother Husk instead. You sigh in relief, head hitting the bar counter. For a moment, you completely forget that Alastor is still sitting beside you.
"Care to explain?"
He watches as you nearly jolt out of your skin, amused at how flustered you are from a little teasing. It's rather cute.
"It's nothing!" You sputter, waving your arms around in panic.
But you can't fool Alastor. Not anymore.
It hadn't clicked before—that perhaps there was some merit behind Angel Dust's words. He had gotten so used to empty threats of sexual advances that he had ruled out the possibility that the star was being a little serious for once.
He wasn't exactly subtle, always jumping on the opportunity to make your cheeks burn whenever the Radio Demon was around.
"It didn't sound like nothing," he sings, leaning in closer to you so he can gauge your reaction.
As expected, you nearly leap away from him when he suddenly invades your personal space. He snickers.
"Not you too..." you groan.
"Why, I didn't know you had such a crush on me, darling~"
"You're the worst."
"Ah, and I suppose that's why our dear friend has been teasing you about me all this time? Because I'm the worst, and you hate me?"
He's getting entirely too close. His face is nearly touching yours.
You stare at him in bewilderment, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Finally, you manage to stammer out a weak retort.
"You should butt out of other people's business."
"It sounds like it's about to be my business, dear. You know, if you liked me so much, you could have just told me instead of Angel Dust."
"I preferred it when you were just a regular asshole, and not a cocky one!"
"Oh, how you wound me~"
"Shut up!"
~
taglist: @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria @for-hearthand-home @fantasy-is-best @angixyc @th3-st4r-gur1 @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it @dilemmaiscool @concentratedconcrete @squiword7 @clarakainda
#🍓 faye's thoughts <3#alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin alastor#hazbin x reader#alastor fanfic#alastor headcanons#alastor fic#alastor x you#alastor fanfiction#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor hartfelt#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin#hazbin hotel headcanons#hazbin hotel fanfic
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my collar.
pairing: theodore nott x reader.
song inspiration: she's my collar by gorillaz (feat. kali uchis)
author's note: sometimes theo just needs to be put in his place and i'm more than happy to deliver that 😏
It was heinous.
It was criminal.
It was downright torturous.
Your boyfriend leaned over, his lips grazing your earlobe as he lowered his voice to a husky, seductive tone. “Are you okay, principessa? You seem a little distracted.”
Crimson colored your cheeks as you straightened against the wingback chair, clearing your throat while you looked around the table, which was currently occupied by your closest friends. All of which were none the wiser to the effect Theo had on you tonight.
“I’m fine,” you squeaked out.
“Really?” Theo drawled, sliding his hand down your thigh and squeezing firmly. “Because you haven’t stopped shaking your leg since dinner started. A shame. Malfoy flew in a private chef from France. He really wants to impress his girl. I know what that’s like.”
You inhaled sharply as his hand trailed higher, his rough and calloused fingers slipping underneath the slit of your dress. “Teddy, please…”
“Begging already, dolcezza? I thought we agreed to save that for the bedroom.”
The teasing and taunting, the push and pull, the cat and mouse routine between you and Theo had been constant all night. Punishment for turning down his proposal for a quickie before dinner. It was hard enough to say no to Theo on a normal day, but declining your boyfriend’s proposition of hot, frantic sex while he looked absolutely sinful in a custom three piece suit was nearly impossible. Not to mention painful.
Still, if you’d taken him up on the offer, you most likely would’ve never made it to dinner. You couldn’t do that to Draco. He needed emotional support. Tonight was his first time ingratiating Hermione into your friend group and you promised that you’d do everything in your power to make her feel welcome.
With a sigh, you pried Theo’s fingers off of your thigh. “Behave, Theodore.” Your boyfriend pouted like a petulant child. “Draco needs us.”
You nodded towards the blonde who looked equally panicked and appalled while Blaise recounted embarrassing stories to Hermione. The golden girl seemed amused by the antics, but Malfoy was anything but.
“Save him before he ruptures a blood vessel,” you murmured to your boyfriend. For good measure, you batted your lashes up at him and gave him a look that he couldn’t refuse. “Please, baby.”
Theo sighed, mumbling in Italian under his breath. “Gentlemen. Care for a cigar?”
Thankfully, Zabini’s plan to embarrass the hell out of Draco was momentarily forgotten. Crisis averted. Draco shot you a grateful look, knowing that you were most likely behind the save. Salazar knows that Theo would’ve delighted in the effort of sullying his oldest friend’s reputation if he hadn’t been distracted.
The boys rose from their chairs, excusing themselves from the room. Theo lingered beside you, dipping his head to place a kiss right underneath your jaw. He sucked lightly on the sweet spot and smirked as you melted against him. The bastard was playing dirty.
“You owe me for that, cara mia.”
Desire bloomed in your core, flooding heat through your body as you peered at your boyfriend. You couldn’t help but admire him in his suit. The midnight blue fabric draped over his tall and lean figure like your own personal gift and the deep stormy color brought out his eyes. You flushed as he turned, training his intense gaze on you like he was savoring the sight. With a cheeky grin, Theo shot you a wink before slipping out the door.
Beside you, Pansy tutted in disapproval. “Get a hold of yourself, Y/N.”
You flushed as Hermione bit back a grin. The curly haired witch patted your hand. “You have my sympathy. When I first saw Draco in a suit, I nearly spilled wine all over myself.”
“See, Pans. I’m not the only one,” you murmured in self-defense. “I can’t help it.”
Pansy shook her head, her glossy bob grazing her chin. “You can and you will. Don’t let Nott turn you into a simpering mess. The Y/N I know would bring a man to his knees.”
Hermione nodded in agreement. “I think Pansy’s right. You should show Theo who’s really in control.”
You smirked as an idea started forming in your head. “You’re more devious than you look, aren’t you, Granger?” Hermione flashed you an innocent smile, which made you laugh. Draco had his work cut out for him. You liked her all the more for it. “You two have a point. Maybe I’ll give my boyfriend a taste of his own medicine tonight.”
Once your mind was made up, the three of you moved on to more important topics. You were fascinated to hear about Hermione’s work on curing lycanthropy while she was equally curious about the proposed laws that you were in the process of bringing before the Wizengamot. The bill was a passion project of yours because it would give rights and protections to muggle born wizards and witches that had never been afforded to them before. You were ready to fight tooth and nail to see it come to fruition.
Needless to say, you were a little too passionate about it. The last time Rita Skeeter interviewed you under the guise of bringing light to the cause, you nearly strangled the sneaky little witch for taking more interest in your romantic relationship than the work you were trying to achieve. You were glad that Pansy worked her high society charm and publicity experience to diffuse the situation.
In the end, she bribed and threatened the proper people to have the story killed. It was a blessing in disguise since you ended up giving exclusive rights to the Quibbler, which was now spearheaded by your old classmate Luna. She truly did the story justice. As a bonus, her tenacity seemed to have caught the attention of the pickiest witch you knew. No matter how many times Pansy denied it, you knew your friend was smitten.
“Babe, you should take your own advice and just ask Luna out already.”
Your friend nearly choked on her wine. Hermione watched the interaction with an amused expression. Her lips curled into a mischievous smile as she turned over to Pansy. “I happen to know that you’re just her type.”
Never in your life had you seen Pansy Parkinson blush that furiously. She caught herself, holding her head high in that aristocratic way of hers. “Of course I’m her type,” your friend declared in a haughty tone. “I’m everyone’s type.”
You and Hermione looked at each other before bursting into a fit of giggles. Pansy cracked a smile and laughed along. The three of you were in full hysterics by the time the boys came back.
Theo slipped back into his seat, squeezing your shoulder gently. “What’s so funny, dolcezza?”
“Girl talk,” Hermione answered on your behalf. “It’s not for you boys to hear.”
You nodded in between giggles. “What Granger said.”
Draco groaned. “Bloody hell, they’re unionizing.”
Your boyfriend raised a brow. He placed his hand back on your thigh, resuming the torturous contact from earlier in the night. “Keeping secrets from me now, Y/N?”
You plastered a saccharine sweet smile on your face. Theo observed curiously as you peeled his fingers from your leg before firmly holding his hand. “I thought you liked a little mystery, baby.”
Theo swallowed thickly as you leaned in to whisper in his ear. He held his breath while you pressed your palm against his chest, twirling his tie between red painted fingernails. You lowered your voice into a dark, seductive tone. “Have I told you how good you look tonight? I could just eat you up.”
Lust blown eyes stared back at you, those familiar piercing blue irises completely swallowed by darkness. Theo shifted in his seat as his gaze dropped down to your mouth. You flashed him an innocent smile before releasing his tie and returning to the conversation happening around you. You could feel that burning gaze on you as you laughed and talked with Pansy and Mattheo.
For the rest of the dinner, you kept up the nonchalant act. You mustered every ounce of self-control within you and rebuffed all of Theo’s advances. Every time he leaned in for a kiss, you gave him your cheek instead. When the group moved to the sitting room, you walked by his side instead of leading the way because you knew Theo would take advantage and smack your ass when no one was looking. To his surprise, you slapped his backside with a sly little smirk, causing him to glance over at you in shock.
By the time you were seated on the expensive velvet couch, Theo was practically jittering. His knee bounced beside you as Hermione continued telling you about the Paris trip Draco had planned. Without looking at him, you placed a hand on your boyfriend’s leg and stopped his anxious bouncing. He sighed beside you, no doubt pouting like a petulant child. Yet you didn’t give him the satisfaction of acknowledgement, which only made him more desperate.
“Let’s get out of here,” Theo whispered into your ear. “You can devour me all you’d like, cara mia.”
You shook your head. “We haven’t even gotten to dessert yet, my love.”
When Draco brought out a spread of chocolate covered strawberries, the opportunity to tease Theo even more quite literally presented itself on a silver platter. You pinched the ripe fruit between your fingers before wrapping your lips around it. Theo watched with rapt attention as you took a slow, deliberate bite, making a whole show of sucking and licking off the chocolate. He gripped the armchair so hard that his knuckles turned white from the strained effort.
You bit back a smirk as he crossed his legs and tried not to groan. It was obvious that you had the upper hand now. Theo was barely paying attention to whatever anecdote Enzo and Mattheo were rambling to him about. Those electric eyes were trained on you as you picked up another strawberry.
“Want a bite, Teddy?” you asked lovingly. “They’re sweet.”
Theo sucked in a breath before nodding slowly. He didn’t trust his voice at the moment. You offered the fruit to him, cradling his cheek gently as he wrapped his lips around the strawberry in a suggestive manner. Theo kept eye contact as he sucked the white chocolate off. You stared back, smiling sweetly as he devoured the fruit in one bite. He seemed frustrated at your unaffected expression, but you were determined not to break. You were going to come out on top tonight. In more ways than one.
Usually, the two of you would be the first to leave. You rarely made it through an entire night without Theo dragging you into the floo so you could tear each other apart back at your shared flat. Tonight was different though. You lasted all the way through midnight, forcing yourself to laugh and chat with your friends as you ignored your boyfriend’s fuck me eyes from across the room.
For that, you made sure you were the last to leave. Theo was convinced he was slowly dying. As soon as the two of you stepped through the floor, your boyfriend scrambled towards your direction, itching to get his hands all over you.
You stepped out of his reach and shook your head. “I didn’t say you could touch me.”
Theo looked utterly confused. “I’ve never needed permission before.”
You chuckled darkly. “You really think I’d reward you for acting like a brat all night? You’re going to learn that it’s a bad idea to tease me like that in front of all of our friends.” Theo gaped at your words. “Now, sit. You can use this time to think about what you’ve done.”
“Dolcezza, please —“
”Did I fucking stutter, Theo?” You jutted your chin to the bed. “Sit. I won’t tell you again.”
Judging by the look on his face, Theo was stunned at the sudden change, but you knew your boyfriend well enough to notice that he was entirely turned on by it too. He settled on the edge of the bed, watching in anticipation as you made your way over to the vanity table. As slowly as possible, you took off every piece of jewelry one by one. The diamonds glittered brightly as you removed them from your neck, ears, and fingers.
A tense silence settled in the room while you pulled the pins out of your updo, sending your hair cascading over your shoulders. Theo squirmed in place, groaning at the sight. You knew that seeing your hair down was his weakness.
“Baby,” he pleaded in the darkness. “Can I touch you?”
You cut him a disinterested glance over your shoulder. “You can help me take my dress off.”
Theo sighed in relief as you sauntered over to him. His slender fingers struggled with the zipper, eager to tear the fabric off of your body. You met his gaze through the mirror, giving him a stern look.
“Slow, Theo. You need to be patient.”
Your boyfriend swallowed thickly, struggling to reign himself in. He concentrated on undressing you slowly, his hands shaking slightly as he pulled the zipper down. He cursed under his breath when your dress pooled around your feet, leaving you in nothing but a little lacy green set — his favorite.
The struggle was evident in his expression. His gaze raked over your body, settling on the spiky heels that you purposely kept on. The red soled stilettos clicked against the wooden floors as you closed the gap. You smirked as you settled between his legs and tugged on his tie.
“Your turn,” you rasped while Theo gazed at you with pure hunger. “Let me undress you now.”
“Okay,” Theo murmured, dazed and confused as you unbuttoned his shirt.
He hissed when you raked your nails over his chest and made quick work of his tie. Theo started unbuttoning his shirt, but reeled back when you swatted his hands away. Your boyfriend gazed up at you expectantly, letting his hands fall neatly to his sides while you took over. Without much effort, you expertly unbuckled his belt and kneeled before him to help him slip out of his pants. Once he was stripped down to his boxers, your eyes flickered back to his face.
“Get on the bed,” you commanded.
Theo was mesmerized, inching backwards towards the headboard on his elbows, but keeping his attention on you as you crawled on the mattress with your heels still on. Your boyfriend was completely under your spell as you brought your face close to his, your hair tickling his chest while he eagerly drank you in.
“What do you want?”
“I want to kiss you,” he answered without hesitation.
”Then learn to ask for it.”
Theo nodded, biting his lip. “Can I kiss you?”
You raised a brow, utterly unimpressed. “Try again, Theo.”
He chewed on his bottom lip, canines sinking down. “Can I kiss you, please?”
You smirked, pleased with the magic word. “Good boy.”
Something dark flashed in Theo’s expression. Your words seemed to awaken a new level of lust and desire within him. The praise gave him a rush that he had never felt before. Theo surged forward, his mouth slanting over yours eagerly. He tasted like wine and strawberries, heady and sinful while he kissed you deeply. His tongue slipped past the seam of your lips, demanding entrance. You granted his request, licking the roof of his mouth as you battled for control.
Theo welcomed the challenge, groaning into your mouth as he pulled you into his lap. You straddled him and tugged at his hair as you flicked your tongue over his bottom lip, licking and sucking until he groaned with need. Theo took liberties without your permission, his greed getting the best of him as he grinded his hard length against your ass.
You weren’t going to reward his impertinent behavior. You promised to teach him a lesson tonight. Theo gasped as you bit down on his bottom lip before raising his arms above him. He blinked in confusion as you bound him to the headboard with his own tie. It all happened so fast that by the time he noticed, it was already too late.
Theo tugged at the restraints, squirming underneath you. “Please, cara mia. I want to touch you.”
You sighed in disappointment. “Then you should've asked.”
His biceps flexed as he struggled, the veins on his forearms stark and prominent against his olive skin. Panic filled his eyes when he realized that there was no getting out of his binds. “I’m sorry. I got greedy. Please untie me, principessa. I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll make it up to you.”
Theo sounded desperate. You traced his swollen lips with your fingers and tugged at his messy brown waves. His eyes were wild as you straddled him. “Oh, you will,” you drawled, flashing him a devious smirk. “After I’m done with you, you’ll learn not to disobey me, my love.”
Your boyfriend panted heavily as you kissed down his chest, sucking and nipping at his flesh in a punishing manner. He was barely breathing as you trailed further south, licking a stripe down his torso. Theo whimpered as you pressed sloppy, openmouthed kisses along his abdominal muscles, leaving hickies in the shape of your initials on his skin. You continued taunting him with your mouth, flicking your tongue along his sinfully delicious happy trail like you had all the time in the world. When you grazed your teeth against his v-lines, Theo tugged at his arms so hard that the headboard rattled.
He was practically in tears as you palmed his cock through the fabric of his underwear. Theo held his breath as you toyed with the band of his boxers, hooking your fingers over the fabric before sliding it off his long legs. His eyes rolled back while you pumped him, applying just the right amount of pressure to have him writhing against your touch.
A desperate little whine slipped past his lips as you licked at the head of his cock, swirling your tongue over his tip and slurping up his precum. His moans filled the room when you took him down your throat, holding his hips down so he can’t fuck up into your mouth like he wants. Theo cursed in Italian as you pumped him with both hands, all the while sucking down and hollowing your cheeks to suction him in.
“Fuck, bella. I’m so close,” he whispered in a hoarse voice. “I’m going to cum.”
You withdrew your hands and your mouth at that moment, making him whine and groan from the sudden absence. Theo’s eyes flew wide open, tears filling his vision as you shook your head in disapproval.
“I thought I told you to ask,” you chided. “If you want to cum, use your words.”
“Please, please, baby, I’ll do whatever you want —“
”I know,” you said before settling over him and sliding off your panties. “And what I want is for you to get me off. Think you can help me with that, Theo?”
“Yes, yes. Just untie me and I will. I’ll make you feel good, dolcezza. I promise.”
“Oh, but you can do that right here, right now. With your hands tied.” Theo groaned as you grinded against him, spreading his precum and your slick over him. He moaned when his cock rubbed against your swollen clit with the perfect amount of friction. Theo was bewildered, his breaths coming out in ragged spurts.
“Be a good boy and let me use you as my fuck toy. You can do that, can’t you, Teddy?”
There wasn’t a single coherent thought in his mind. Theo felt the words escape him as you grinded against him. He felt dizzy. His cock was so hard that it hurt and he couldn’t even think straight. You hummed, brushing a finger over his balls before cupping them in your hand.
“Use your words, pretty boy.” Theo blinked back, unable to speak. You grabbed his jaw roughly, forcing him back into focus. “I asked you a question. I expect you to answer.”
Theo whimpered before nodding weakly. “Use me, dolcezza. I’m yours.”
You smirked in satisfaction. Theo groaned as you rubbed your pussy against his cock. When his shaft brushed against your clit, his eyes rolled back so hard that he was convinced he could see the vacantness of his empty mind. You rode him hard and fast, using his body to get you off. The depravity of it turned him on even more. The blood rushed out of his head at the dominance you exhibited. You were utterly selfish, taking what you wanted when you wanted it, and he was so fucking aroused at how cruel his girl could be.
You raked your nails over his chest as you balanced, teasing him with your wet folds without letting him feel you. Theo bit his lip so hard that the action drew blood. You licked away the crimson droplets and he sighed against your mouth as you gave him relief, sloppily kissing him while you moaned his name. He could tell you were getting close by the way you convulsed above him and he cursed as your pussy squelched against his cock.
Theo was in awe as you cried out, cumming while you screamed his name. You slowed the roll of your hips as you lost yourself over to the orgasm, denying him of his own again. Your juices trickled down your thighs and pooled against his stomach. At that point, his cock was so sensitive that it throbbed painfully. Theo was in shambles, his wrists raw and red from tugging so hard.
“Please, please, baby. Let me fuck you. I need it. I need you. I’ll die if I’m not inside you.”
You chuckled, brushing the salty tears pooling underneath his pretty eyes. “Pathetic. Are you begging for me, pretty boy? So desperate to fill me up, to feel my pussy hug around your cock while you pump your cum inside of me, hm?”
“It hurts so bad,” Theo whined. “Please, I’ll do anything. Anything you want. I’ll get on my knees and beg. Please, principessa.”
“Look at you crying for me,” you cooed, caressing his cheek. “Poor Teddy. You’ve been so good. Let me take care of you now.” You soothed him with praises as you untied his arms.
You kissed his wrists as Theo sighed in relief. “Do you want to touch me, baby?”
Theo nodded shyly, which made you smile. His large, rough hands carefully gripped your hips. He looked to you for approval, making sure to check with you for every little thing. You only nodded, dragging his hands up to rest on your breasts. He busied himself with your bra strap, breathing raggedly as he freed your tits from the fabric.
“Can I touch them, please?” Theo asked earnestly.
“Is that all you want?”
“No,” he answered honestly. “I want to kiss them. I want to suck them.” His gaze flickered to your amused expression. “Please, baby.”
“Go ahead. You earned it, pretty boy.”
Theo wasted no time, kneading your tits while kissing down your cleavage. He gasped in surprise when you sank down onto him, nearly sobbing in relief when he felt your pussy hug around his cock. His shaky little breaths seeped into your skin as you took inch after inch, making yourself comfortable on his lap as he sheathed himself inside of you. Theo whined when you lifted your hips until only his remained inside of you.
“Don’t whine, Theo. Be thankful that I’m fucking you instead of punishing you.”
He rested his head on the crook of your neck, attempting to ground himself. “Thank you, baby. I’m grateful. I don’t deserve it, but you’re so good to me.”
With a proud smile, you slammed down to take all of him again. Theo was rendered speechless and his mouth fell open as you bounced on his cock. Desperately, he scrambled to catch your perky breasts into his mouth. Your boyfriend sucked on your tits, swirling his tongue around your nipples. You moaned as he nipped at you, tensing when you yanked him by his hair.
Theo stared at you, waiting for direction. Knowing that you had this much control over him made you clench. In your relationship, Theo tended to take on the dominant role, but now that you knew that your boyfriend was more than open to being submissive, you were ready to explore this new dynamic.
“I like this side of you,” you murmured, kissing down his jaw and neck. His breath hitched as you slowly rolled your hips. “So obedient. So willing. So submissive.” A shiver shuddered through him as you wrapped your fingers around his neck. “Tell me who you belong to, Theo.”
“You, baby,” he rasped. “Only you.”
“Show me,” you commanded as you squeezed his throat. It was enough to make Theo feel dizzy, momentarily cutting off his oxygen. “Fuck me like you mean it.”
The desire to please you overwhelmed him. All thoughts of his own pleasure faded. It was secondary to the need to hear you praise him, to validate him, to call him your good boy. He hooked his arm around your waist, shifting his hips to fuck into you at a deeper angle. You moaned above him as your bodies melded together. Sweat, sin, and sex permeated the air while he worshiped at your altar.
Theo watched his cock disappear between your folds, his gaze flickering from your pussy to your face, eager to know if his actions pleased you. You brushed his hair back, gentle and loving, while you talked him through it.
“That’s it, Teddy. Fill me up.” Theo thrusted as you bounced, groaning as he hit the sweet spot that made your body sing. “Just like that. Fuck, it’s so good. You’re so good, baby.”
Your forehead dropped to his, rewarding him with sweet little kisses every time he hit the spongy spot that had you seeing stars. He relished in your compliments, felt himself craving it like a drug. When your pussy clenched around him to signal your release, Theo continued to fuck you through the orgasm. There was a reverent glimmer in his eyes like he was witnessing something holy when you came.
Theo could feel his own release nearing, but he knew better than to cum without asking. It was abundantly clear to him that you were in control tonight. “Can I cum? Please, principessa?”
“Of course you can,” you replied with a blissed out smile. “Good boys get to cum.”
He held his breath, feeling warmth spread throughout his body. “I’ve been a good boy?”
“Mhm,” you murmured, pulling him in for a soft kiss. “The best boy.” Even though you were sensitive and overstimulated, you made sure to reward his good behavior. Picking up the pace, sliding easily up and down his cock thanks to your wetness, you whispered the words that you knew would push Theo over the edge. “Now be a good boy and cum inside of me, baby.”
Theo cried out with a shout, shuddering underneath you as he shot hot ribbons deep inside your pussy. You could feel his cum filling you up, warm and wet as it trickled out. He panted against your neck as his cock twitched inside of you, releasing his load with each pump. As he emptied himself out, Theo slowed, his body collapsing from the intensity of the orgasm.
When he regained consciousness, he was flat on his back. Theo blinked away the white spots in his vision. It felt like his soul had left his body entirely. He had cum so hard he passed out. As he rejoined the physical realm, Theo opened his eyes to find you cleaning him up. You were so sweet and gentle, the complete opposite of the selfish lover you’d been just a few moments ago. It warmed his heart to know that you’d always take care of him no matter what.
Theo smiled as you kissed his forehead. A small whimper escaped his mouth as you pulled his boxers over his legs, his cock still sensitive from the intense sex. You whispered sweet nothings into his ear, soothing him as you brushed your fingers through his hair. Theo cuddled against your side and sighed happily.
“Holy fuck,” he whispered.
You giggled, pressing soft kisses all over his face. “Did you like that?” You asked, teasing your boyfriend. “It seems like you did.”
He hummed against your skin, brushing his lips against your neck. “Fuck, I think you just unlocked a new kink for me.” You chuckled at his words. “That was so fucking hot, baby.”
“You know, I was trying to teach you a lesson,” you mused. “I didn’t quite expect you to enjoy getting degraded this much.”
“Degrade me whenever you want, dolcezza.”
"Really?" you hummed, musing on his willingness. "How far would you let me go? If I broke out a leash and collar, would you have stopped me?"
You were half-joking, but the eager expression on your boyfriend's face told you that he was more than willing to make your suggestion into a reality.
"Don't threaten me with a good time, cara mia." Theo wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you closer. "I'd crawl to you on my hands and knees if you asked. If you're the one asking, there's nothing I wouldn't do."
The power definitely gave you a head rush. As much as you relished in the hold you had over him, you tucked the knowledge away for later. There was plenty of opportunity to act out all your dirtiest, filthiest fantasies, but for now, you were more than content to snuggle with the love of your life.
You smirked, nipping at his jaw. “That’s my good boy.”
#i want to put him in a pretty little pink collar#theo nott#theo nott smut#theodore nott smut#theo nott x reader#theodore nott#theo nott x you#theodore nott x you#theo nott x y/n#theodore nott x reader#theo nott imagine
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hiya emmyy
i’m in love with your soft bf!sukuna pieces they’re just, melting me into a puddle of simp- so.. i saw your post abt angst so what would you think abt sukuna and y/n arguing, and making up after that? i dunno why but i’m just picturing him texting you to eat your meals and drink water and take your meds, even tho he acts like he doesn’t care at all 🫣 (did i js want that in bf? yes )
thank you so much for providing a lots of pieces for simps like me (who pretty much simp over anyone they can) and i might show up in your notifications bombarding your posts with likes but i hope you don’t mind ;)
hope you’re having a good day (and get good rest, water, food (and meds if you take them!)) <3
-sky :)
SUKUNA ANGST BUT HIM BEING DOTING MY BELOVED 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
When you banish him to the couch for the night, he merely scoffs and grabs his pillow to make his way for it, but he hears your soft cries and his heart breaks just enough to make whatever you were fighting about seem beyond unimportant.
He takes his phone out to scroll on through it, trying to distract himself from the situation, too stubborn to fully cave into the guilt. But then he sees the time, and he sends you a text.
SENT don’t forget to take your medicine.
I think there’s a bottle of gatorade in the fridge. Drink that and have one of my protein shakes, since we didn’t eat tonight
dummy 🙄 why do you care?
SENT because I still fucking love you?? Duh??
Fights aren’t going to change that fact, idiot
He clicks his phone off and lays an arm over his eyes to block out the automatic lamp and the moonlight that creeps in from the curtains and into the big living room, and he tries not to look as you come stalking back out of the bedroom and approach him.
“You remembered that I have to take my meds,” you swallow thickly.
He scoffs, “and?”
He hears you shuffle awkwardly, “we’ve just… been fighting so long, I thought you would’ve forgotten, too- because I did.”
Now, he finally peeks at you from his arm, “I’m never going to forget something that important. You know that.”
He watches as you timidly, raise a hand to lay on his thigh, thumb stroking the muscle lovingly, “I’m sorry I banished you to the couch.” You look down in shame, “I never want us to go to bed separate… I don’t want to be the couple that does this, who needs to do this.”
“I didn’t do this,” he grumbles.
“I know; but I only did it because I was hurt, Sukuna. Please understand where I was coming from.”
This makes his heart jerk and tighten, his arm finally coming down to look at you fully, and with a click of his tongue, he reaches down to lace his hand with yours, and he sighs, “I know I’m not the easiest guy to work shit out with, so I get it.”
You sniffle, “Will you… maybe… come back to bed? With me?”
He ponders his options for a minute. He could go back to bed, condition you into thinking that it was okay and you’ll always pull this crap on him. But you look so sad, so heartbroken and wearing your heart on your sleeve-
And hey. Maybe he likes watching you grovel a little bit.
He clicks his tongue and makes a move to get you off his legs, and you smile excitedly. “Alright,” he gruffs. “Pull this shit again though, and I’m sleeping on the porch swing at ma’s.”
You nod your head, and as he sits up, he plants a kiss to your knuckles, squeezing your hand lovingly.
“I’m serious.”
“I know you are, Kuna.”
#☹️🫶🏻#sukuna#sukuna fluff#sukuna angst#sukuna x reader angst#sukuna x reader#sukuna x reader fluff#sukuna x gn!reader#sukuna imagine#sukuna jjk#sukuna ryomen#sukuna ryomen fluff#sukuna ryomen angst#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna ryomen x gn!reader#sukuna ryomen x reader fluff#sukuna ryomen x reader angst#sukuna ryomen imagine#sukuna ryomen jjk#jjk#jjk fluff#jjk imagine#jjk x reader#jjk x gn!reader#jjk x gender neutral reader#jjk x you#jjk x yn#jjk x y/n
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⍣ ೋ the times they cried because of you
☆ includes ushijima, iwaizumi, atsumu, kageyama, bokuto
USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI — he never cries. you met this guy when the two of you were young freshman in high-school, and you quickly became a good friend of his. that being said, you never saw him cry. even when the two of you began dating in your senior year, you still never did. years passed, and it was the same as the previous years. sure, he occasionally got upset, but even then, he still put on a stoic display, never really letting you in on that side of him. even at your wedding, he sure showed some emotion but he didn't cry. then came the birth of your first child.
"she's so cute, isn't she 'toshi..?" you said weakly, forehead still damp with sweat, bodu trembling with the aftershocks of your hard, long labor. your eyes fluttered open, focusing on the sight of your dear wakatoshi holding your newborn baby.
your heart fluttered at the soft image of your husband holding the tiny baby closely again his chest, his forehead mere inches away from the baby's forehead. it was barely there, barely noticeable. if it weren't for the reflection of light, then you wouldn't have been able to see the way his eyes were glazed over, corners red, tears brimming at the borderlines of his eyes.
he was so memorized, so in love with this product of you, this product of his and your love. god, you just make him the happiest guy on earth.
with a grunt, he sniffled lightly, trying to mask his emotions. "yeah.."
IWAIZUMI HAJIME — he hates crying. but being the responsible and knowing person he is, he knows that crying is inevitable. but the "strong", reliable guy in him wants to punch himself every-time he feels his eyes sting at the feel of salty tears brimming at his waterline. unbeknownst to you, he would avoid you every-time he felt like he was going to cry, usually hiding in the locked confides of the bathroom. he thought he was hiding it well, until one fateful day where it all came crashing down..
"haji?" you said on the other side of the door. he immediately shot up, his eyes darting to the doorknob. he always made sure to lock it, but today, he was just so exhausted and down that the idea of a lock was forgotten. crap, "hey wait-," before he could even rise up from his slouched kneeling position on the bathtub's side, you opened the door unknowingly. "i just need my–hajime?"
there he was, in all of his fucking glory, hunched over, his face long and clearly expressing his hurt feelings. his heart fell to his stomach, his vision going cloudy as his day just kept getting worse. "hajime?" you called out once more, only your tone had softened, more light and tender. you reached a hand out to him, eyes full of concern. he couldn't help but jolt away from your hand, eyebrows furrowing at your softness.
he didn't like your tone. why are you looking at him like that? like some sad kicked puppy lost in the middle of nowhere? it made him feel so small, so weak. "haji.. are you okay?" you whispered, crouching down to his level outside of the bathtub. you attempted yet again to touch the side of his face, lightly pressing your fingertips against his cheekbone before fully pressing your palm against the side of his face.
his lips trembled as he was just a second away from breaking down, his eyes locked on a single object as to hold on to the last of his will. you sighed softly at his resistance, of course he wouldn't want to cry in front of you, but you don't understand why, afterall, what makes a person weak for crying? "it's okay, hajime."
with that, fat tears finally ran down his cheeks, his eyes shutting close as he finally broke at your words. he could only grab onto your hand as you climbed into the tub, his head going straight into your chest as he sobbed and wailed.
MIYA ATSUMU — surprisingly, you've seen this guy cry many of times before. he cried when getting accepted into nationals, winning nationals, just crying at things any normal person would do. but he never cried for you. no, he held himself to higher standards. he'd never cry for someone, not even for you. yeah, he loved you, but he wasn't about to cry for someone like a little child. all high and mighty, he never thought you would actually have an affect on him like you do now. him being someone who wears his heart proudly on his sleeve, he found himself getting into an argument late at night with you, too prideful to back down.
"are you serious atsumu?! you know i'd never do that!" you yelled, voice hoarse and scratchy due to the ongoing screaming match between you and your boyfriend. "oh really?! then why were ya' 'll over that fucker earlier? huh?!" he yelled back, pointing out the way you were seemingly flirting with a guy at the club earlier.
but you weren't? you would never do that, you're not a scum. "what?! we were just talking?! am i not allowed to TALK to people atsumu?" you scoffed, arms crossing defensively. "if you wanna consider talking as flirting, then let's talk about that girl you were laughing with the other day? huh? let's talk about that!"
his eyebrow raised at your counter, fumbling nervously as he wondered what to say. "w-wh- you know what?! fuck you! i don't know why i'm even dating a bitch like you!" he said, almost immediately regretting his words when he saw the way your eye's widened at his harsh words. the apartment was finally silent as you registered his words, he wishes you had any sort of expression on your face, but you had nothing but a stoic and emotionless face.
"okay then," you finally said, arching your eyebrow in a taunting way, resting your hand down on your hip. "bye." you followed, grabbing your bag and your keys, turning your back on him.
he watched, frozen in his spot as you exited out the apartment with your composure. his body jolted when he heard the slam of the front door, finally letting out that breath he was unknowingly holding. he scoffed at what you said, clenching his jaw tightly as he tried to hold onto his pride. "damn it." he said.
he felt the tear roll down his cheek before he could even register that he was crying. "..damn it!"
KAGEYAMA TOBIO — to him, life is volleyball. his childhood consisted nothing of volleyball, and so will his adulthood. maybe his obsession with volleyball was a little extreme, but you never really minded. he respected you greatly for your patience, he wasn't dumb, he knew that his priority of volleyball was evident, so he always tried to make it up to you by spending time with you whenever you wanted. but it seemed like after awhile, he began to take your patience for granted. it wasn't until the nth time when he didn't show up for the nth date was when he realized.
kageyama was careful to shut the front door as quiet as he could, tiptoeing as he took off his shoes and walked throughout the dark hallways and into the master-bedroom. he jolted like a cat when he sat you sitting up on the side of the bed, back facing the doorway.
"y-you scared me. what are you doing up at this time? it's nearly 10PM." he stuttered obliviously. it was silent for a few seconds before you sighed, slowly turning your head to face him. "you forgot." you muttered before turning back to look at the wall. forgot? forgot what? it was then he noticed the way your hair was done, still clad in a pretty dress.
"o-oh.. the date! i-i'm sorry y/n, i promise i can make it up to you"— "don't bother." you interrupted, voice stern yet monotonous. what do you mean 'don't bother?' you love going on dates don't you? his lips pursed into a straight line, chewing on his bottom lips nervously. "w-what do you mean? i really promise, this thursday i have a free day.." he trailed off when you suddenly stood up from the bed.
"i mean that i think we should break up." his heart dropped at your words, eyes widening. break up? his mouth was agape, mind spinning with different solutions and apologies. before he could detest, you walked over to the corner of the room, pulling up a suitcase that he didn't even notice.
"b-but why? you said yourself that me and you are meant to be together?" he cried out, quickly rushing over to your side and grabbing onto your wrist. he watched your face closely, eyes taking note of every single feature of yours. you inhaled deeply, still refusing to look at him.
"i said that when we were in high-school and didn't have any major responsibilities. things have changed, we aren't in high-school any more. you're now a pro-volleyball player with big responsibilities, and i'm.. someone who clearly has too much time on their hands, wasting it on someone who can't give me any of theirs. it's not your fault, kageyama, but we just don't align anymore."
you finally said, tugging your hand away from his grasp. before you could take a step, his hands were once again on you, gripped onto your shoulders, forcing you to look at him. "but.. you said you would be there for my game at nationals.." he whimpered out, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.
it was then, when you were finally walking out of his apartment, out of his life, was when he finally did realize, that maybe, he did take your patience for granted..
BOKUTO KOUTARO — this guy cries a lot. he's cried so many times you might have to start writing it down somewhere. he rarely masks his emotions, he's an open book. thats what you love so much about him, that he's so open and honest. you love the way he's so eager and sweet, you love the way he's always willing to talk to you and so damn clingy it's like you have your own personal koala. aside from the times he's happy, he's sad, sad because he didn't perform well, or because you didn't kiss him. but you never really made him cry, you'd never do that. or so you thought.
"y/n!! i missed you!" you hear a booming voice yell, his footsteps speeding up at the sight you. he paid no mind when you didn't respond to him, as you were currently hunched over the your work desk, laptop gleaming at you brightly. your back was turned to him, so you were basically calling him for a back hug.
"y/n!" — "not now koutaro." you interrupted, tone serious and stern. he raised his eyebrows at you with surprise, his arms a few inches away from your shoulders as they stilled in their preparation to hug you. "babe? is something wrong?" he asked curiously, lips pouting at your stern denial. you never decline a hug. you love them. right?
"i'm working. can't you see that?" you spit out, sighing deeply. you pull away your cramping fingers away from your keyboard, rubbing them over your sore eyes. "my gosh." you mumble under your breath, eyebrows intensely furrowed with stress. you had been working for a few hours straight, staring at nothing but a bright screen with words that were becoming incoherent to you.
you yelp out when you're suddenly pulled from your chair, being lifted up into bokuto's strong arms as he spins you around. "don't be so sad!" he says cheerfully, hoping to cheer you up with a big warm hug. only— this seems to make you mad. "put me down, koutaro!" you yell, pushing his chest away and forcing him to practically drop you.
"don't you see i'm working?! why are you so damn clingy? you're so annoying, god, why don't you just leave me alone?" you spit out. your words are like venom, stinging his heart greatly as his hair is quickly deflating once your words reach his ears. you simply return to your laptop once you've finished, typing mindlessly once more.
him? annoying? he didn't mean to annoy you..
he couldn't help but softly whimper, left standing in shock. he opened his mouth to say something before your previous words were reminding him to stay silent—leave me alone. he clutched his palms, looking at your turned back with teary eyes. he hopes you don't find him annoying for long..
#haikyuu smut#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu!! smut#haikyuu pregnant#haikyu x reader#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu angst#haikyuu ushijima#ushijima wakatoshi#ushijima x reader#iwaizumi hajime#haikyuu iwaizumi#iwaizumi x reader#atsumu miya#haikyuu atsumu#atsumu x reader#kageyama tobio#haikyuu kageyama#bokuto koutarou#haikyuu bokuto#bokuto x reader
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The taskforce 141’s favourite steamy moments
Contain smut(18+), minors do not interact
a/n: I wanted to write something that the 141 members like the most whenever they have some spicy moment with the reader >:) so I decided to give smut writing a go! These are arranged based on length, I apologise for writing such a short one for Ghost as I was struggling to make it as gender-neutral as possible(if it still comes out as fem, Im so sorry!), maybe next time I’ll do specific gender one post at a time, but for now enjoy this mess :>
Tags: xgn! Reader, dry humping/grinding, eating out(reader receiving), submissive, teasing, riding(implied sorta), biting, slightly possessive behaviour, hand job - let me know if i missed any tags
reader's text is in purple
PLEASE DO NOT RESHARE MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS WITHOUT MY PERMISSION
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Simon Ghost Riley - taste
Ghost likes it when you run your fingers along his hair, soft and gentle as he closes his eyes and savour the gesture. But he likes it best when you scratch his hairline and lock your hands in his short blonde curls.
Ghost has been in between your thighs since he dragged you into his room, he laps on your entrance as he sloppily licks up your sensitive sex, sinful slurping and moans filling the room. He works his tongue expertly, mixing those arousal juices with his saliva as he grunts and groans. You watch with teary, half-lidded eyes as he slowly retracts from your aching sex and trails teasing kisses around your thighs before he bites down as you jolt.
S-simon…!
You whine out his name as he hums and graze his teeth along your thighs, taking his sweet time as he watches you grow increasingly desperate, turning into a whimpering mess on his bed because of him.
He spread your leg further as he let his tongue dance against you, watching your back arches up as he moan into your sex, causing a shiver to run down your spine as his deep husky voice reverberated through your entire body. He looks up to you with those dark eyes that are blown out and filled with desire, hungrily pinning your hips down with his eyes alone.
“Be good”, was all he said before he latch onto you again as he devour you like there was no tomorrow.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
John Soap MacTavish - wants
You struggle to breathe properly as your chest is fully pressed on top of your desk, now messy and with papers and reports that are scattered about and long forgotten.
Grunts and moans filled your room as Soap has your hands pinned on top of your head, his other hand grabbing your hips, fingers digging into your hips that always leave purplish-red marks the next day.
“Fuck y/n…..” Soap slurs as he buckled his hip at your ass, both of you still have your gears and clothes on, leaving only the bulky vest on the floor as he grinds on you, so desperate, so fucking desperate.
He leans down to bite on the back of your neck causing you to moan as you feel his tongue lap at the bite marks and suck gently to soothe the flesh, now littered with goosebumps. You can feel how warm and hot he is from your back despite the layers of clothes, and you can hear his heartbeat too when he starts thrusting you faster, harsher, pressing his chest and his hips on you, as if he’s moulding your entire body as both of you are mushed together perfectly.
‘It's not enough…” he growls as he continues grinding on you, voice getting lower as he frowns and bites down on your neck again, another mark as he lets out pants of frustration, you gasp and moan at his bites as you push your hips back to meet his.
‘Yeah just like that…fuck…..fuck. me.” he lets out a deep sigh as both of you fight to push your hips towards each other to be impossibly close, you can feel it too, you can feel how he angles his hip so that every time he snaps and presses onto you, you can feel his tip poking at your entrance, making you roll your eyes back as you sob softly.
You want him, just as badly as he wants you.
God it’s not enough, it’s never enough at all and yet every single fucking time, he does it still, it's too painfully good to stop, to pause this heating moment to remove some fabric, no, there’s no way he’ll stop, it's as if he’s afraid that doing so will result in these pent-up emotions and arousal slipping away.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Captain John Price - voice
John likes it when you hold back your moans and voices whenever you guys do it in his office, since his room is in the centre of the base, that means there are other rooms besides, and the walls are not exactly the thickest.
Sure, he absolutely loves your moans and the way you scream his name whenever he pounds you hard never fails to make him lost in ecstasy. But nothing riles him up more than hearing the voices you make that only he gets to hear.
He loves it when you suppress your moans, because it makes it so your voice tends to become whinier, and more desperate, reaching a pitch that sometimes has surprised him and yourself. He loves it because when you try to be quiet by squeezing your head into his neck, mouth biting on his collar as he drags his thick cock in and out of you, he gets to hear all those little gasps and pretty little moans that are barely audible.
John loves it, and he absolutely likes to break that resolve of yours, he likes to push all the buttons to see you crumble before him, and he knows when he is on the right track when you start to pant harder, and those whimper escapes more as you shakily grab onto his arm,
J-John….please…
he smirks as the pleas come spilling out from your mouth whenever you feel like you couldn't hold in your moans more.
“Awwww….too much?”
He would whisper back into your ears as he draws out each word in his deep honey voice, hands coming down on your waist before he slams it down hard on his hip, causing a startled yelp and a jolt of shiver running down your spine and let out a string of suppressed curses and moans.
He chuckles deeply, hot breath fanning against your neck when he watches your eyes tear up and your mouth opens as you let out a silent scream, still holding on as you shake your head and mutter to him, “N-no…m-my voice-” you didn’t finish your words as he clashes his mouth with yours, swallowing your pitiful pleas before biting down your lower lip as he pulls back, smirking as he bites down your shoulder.
“Let it out”, he challenges you with a raspy voice as he kisses the bite marks around your neck and nibbles softly when he coos at you, watching you squirm around as he gives you a mischievous look, oh he is going to, and will bully you until he has you screaming his name.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Kyle Gaz Garrick - hands
Kyle loves it whenever you take your time and tease him with your hands, you can feel how his thigh muscle tensed up and how he let out his breath shakily whenever you trail your finger around him. He always likes it when you start slow, gently trailing along his neck first as you kiss and softly nibble his ears, before you slip your hands down lower as you rest it on his chest, and those eyes….those big doe eyes of yours whenever you look up to him and whisper so sweetly, honey tone dripping out from your irresistible mouth absolutely drives him mad every time, and send his head into a spiral heat of want.
You like it, hm?
He gives a nod as he lay back on the sofa, completely melting under you touch as he squeezes his eyes shut when he feels your teasing hand trailing around his chest, sometimes flicking his nipples that cause him to jolt as you giggle,
Mhm, you do like it…
Fuck, you’ve barely done anything and he already feels like his losing his mind, only being able to nod frantically as words fail to come into his mind. As you slowly reach down, resting your palm just shy above his pants, his grip on your hip tightens as he desperately wants you to go lower, to give him what he wants. He loves it because you always manage to rile him up, giving some relief but never enough, it's like you knew exactly how he works.
Hmmmmm what do you want…pretty boy?
You whisper back teasingly as you brush your lips against his ear, you watch as his boxers get tighter when his arousal increases, even a small stain was visible now the more you tease him with the nickname, his favourite one, among all the other things you call him.
“Ah fuck….please y/n…”
He begs as you slowly pull down his boxers, bit by bit as he lifts his hips up on instinct to help you remove them, then you slowly let him free of these hellish restrictions, and you make sure your hand doesn't touch his hard cock that flings up as you remove the boxers, watching the red angry tip leaking as he lets out a content sigh. Yet as free as he is at the moment, he needs more.
“y/n….god…please….”
He whines softly again as you rest your hand on his V-line, trailing those deep beautiful grooves as you hum idly and press your body against his. You continue moving your hand along the V-line before you lightly ghost his cock with the middle knuckle of your index finger, running it all the way from his tip to the base.
Please what hm?
He lets out another whimper when you tease him again, trying to be good as he bites his lower lip to stop himself from flinching so much from how sensitive and needy he is, he nuzzles into your neck as he pleaded with a desperate tone, voice crackling at the end as he gulps in between words.
“Please….fuck….please touch me….touch my cock…need to feel you please….”
You chuckle as you kiss his cheek and snake your hand down to hold the base of his cock, watching him buck his hip up to seek those sweet, sweet friction. Who are you to deny him when he begged so nicely?
Good boy~
you whisper back huskily as you wrap your hands around his length, he takes a sharp inhale and lets out a trembling moan as he slung his head back to the top of the couch, his hand holding your hips, to ground himself as you start moving your hands around his cock, sliding upwards as you wipe the precum of the tip, teasing the tip as you slowly pump your hand down and watch another string of precum leak and flow down his length, you run your thumb along that one prominent vein as you press on it slightly, the agonizing slow speed you’re doing makes Kyle gasp as he frown and grab your hips tighter,
“fuck, so good….hmm fuck your hands….ah…”, he lets out a loud moan lightly when you kiss his ear lobe, whispering sweet nothing as you attack his ear with your tongue, moaning and letting sloppy noises consume his head, you take this opportunity to reach out and interlace your finger with his other hand as well to overwhelm him in every sense.
He prays internally as he tries his best not to come right here right now, you just started stroking him but he already feels like he’s about to explode. He can’t help it when he can feel your hands, every crease of your finger swiping along his girth as you pump slowly again, god and your thumb? Whenever you use it to press down on him he swears his vision goes white for a moment.
“Don't stop….”
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
a/n: yes yes I know yet another longer section for Gaz, I am, and forever will be biased towards our babygirl, YOU CAN'T STOP ME *runs*
#cod mw22#cod mwii#cod x reader#call of duty x reader#cod imagines#mw2 x reader#cod fanfic#mw2 fanfic#cod smut#simon ghost riley x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#captain john price x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#gaz x reader#smut#gomzwrites
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“shopping for your brother?”
you trip at hearing the question, your lips parting in surprise as you whip to look at the clerk. she blinks at you amidst her own shock before turning her eyes down to your hands where a faux fatigued boonie dangled between your pinched fingers.
you watch as she glances back at you before shooting a look towards simon, having seen the two of you walk in together. he’s standing on the far side of the shop, attracting electric looks from everyone – you couldn’t even blame them because even your mouth is watering at the sight that he makes.
still, the insinuation that you couldn’t possibly be simon’s partner stung. forgotten insecurities are rising once again, rippling against the quiet elation that once filled you up.
“um,” you begin, clearing your throat at hearing your voice brokenly taper off. “it’s for, uh, my boyfriend.”
the clerk stares at you for a second before her cheeks fill up with red, the blush descending from her forehead to her neck.
“bloody hell,” she utters. “i’m so sorry.” she scurries away after that, disappearing into their storage room where you think she’s going to stay until you and simon leave.
and you’re willing to do just that. you drop the boonie and walk towards simon, trying to ignore the bitterness that is stinging in the back of your throat. simon uncrosses his arms – tattoos and muscles obscured by the expanse of paper bags that he insisted he pay and carry for you – and holds his hand out for you to take. you look at it, hesitating, before you shake your head and walk out on your own.
you can’t hear him follow you but you know he is there, quiet in his assessment of both the surroundings and of what happened to make you upset. you blink the tears gathering in the corners of your eyes, trying to hide your distress as much as you can.
but it is futile because the next thing you know, simon’s pulling you away from the busy stretch of the mall and into an obscured exit point with dim lights and narrow halls. he drops the bags onto the floor before tugging on your wrists with firm gentleness.
“what happened?” his voice is gruff but worry is evident in his tone.
“it’s nothing,” you say, sniffing. “just tired.”
he hums, and you know that he doesn’t believe you. you sigh, turning away from him as you mutter, “i dunno why you like me.” you chew on your words, hoping he wouldn’t understand. but you feel him stiffen before you, his back tensing like he is preparing for a fight.
you know he is angry – not at you. never at you. and seeing his protective nature spark up just at the mere mention of your insecurity makes your lips wobble, your eyes blurring as tears pool once again.
you hear him let out a sharp curse before he’s pulling you in his embrace, tucking your head under his chin and engulfing you in his arms. he’s so big and all muscles, but he’s so, so warm. you nuzzle your cheek on his chest, letting out a content sigh when you feel his lips press on the top of your head.
“you know that i love you, don’t you, sweetheart?” simon asks, thinly-veiled desperation curling at his words.
you nod, shy all of sudden. he clicks his tongue.
“use y’r words, love.”
you peer up at him, your pouty lips quivering into a small smile at meeting his intense gaze, his beautiful eyes tracking the details of your face like he can’t get enough of you.
you see simon’s reverence and feel your heart melt.
“yeah,” you finally reply, swiping your tongue on your chapped lips and feeling your cheeks warm up at the way his eyes zeroed in on the action. “i know it well, si.”
he grunts before he is bending forward to press his lips over yours, your eyes fluttering close to savour the kiss. he is gentle as he guides you through it, prompting you to part your lips just enough for him to deepen the kiss – tongues swiping against each other and soft moans being engulfed by both of you.
you are panting by the time he pulls away, his eyes dilated in pleasure. you wonder if you look just as debauched, just as desperate for more.
“wanna take this somewhere else?” simon murmurs, just the sound of his grave voice already making you tremble.
you scramble to say yes, your words lilting together in your excitement. simon chuckles and presses a quick kiss on your lips before he’s picking up the shopping bags and herding the two of you out.
#suns.f#a little soft drabble bc well im pining and projecting and i cant even lie that im in luv w this man#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley#cod x reader#suns
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get him back! / theodore nott
PAIRING theodore nott x fem!reader
SUMMARY after playboy mattheo riddle dumps you for another girl, your best friend motivates you to get the best revenge - be the girl he would always want, but could never have. you take things to the extreme when theodore nott offers you a deal you can't say no to.
TAGS theodore nott x fem!reader, past!mattheo riddle x fem!reader, modern!au, university!au, ginny is your best friend, fake dating, college parties, gluna / linny, part 2?
QUOTE "yeah i pour my little heart out, / but as i'm hitting send, / i picture all the faces of my dissappointed friends, / because everyone knew all of the shit that he'd do, / he said i was the only girl but that just wasn't the truth," - get him back! by olivia rodrigo
WORD COUNT 2.2K
WRITTEN 12.15.2023
hey, mattheo, how are you? i know it's been a while but i thought i'd -
No. What the hell are you doing? You hold the backspace, watching as the words you had just typed out disappeared. This was ridiculous - you couldn't keep doing this. Ginny would be so dissappointed in you. He had cheated on you, multiple times. He had spent all his time flirting with other girls. He lied to you and then his apologies were just fancy, elaborate gifts soaked in wealth and champagne. How could you still want him, need him, so viscerally?
"What are you doing?" You threw your phone over to your bed and turned around to face Ginny with a sickeningly-sweet grin.
"What? Nothing," you responded innocently. She narrowed her eyes at you in suspicion and made her way over to your bed, picking up your phone and glancing at the screen. You had forgotten to turn it off. Shit.
"Oh come on, seriously? Riddle? That douchebag?" She asked incredulously, sending you one of her famous looks of dissappointment. You got up and snatched your phone from her hand, only to crash on your bed.
"I know, I know," you responded with whine. "And I hate him too . . . but I miss him." You snatched one of your pillows and planted your face into it. The muffled scream was still louder than it ought to be, making Ginny cringe, but still rather satisfying. You let out a huff of breath. "I don't know what to do. I want to punch him in the face but at the same time . . . I want to kiss his stupid fucking face. That piece of shit."
You stared at his picture and let out a sigh. He was so damn complicated.
Ginny snatched your phone from you yet again. "All right, here's what we're going to do. We're going to come up with a plan to make Mattheo Riddle the most jealous man on the planet and in the process, find you someone new and much better. All right?"
You groaned. The thought of it sounded exhausted, but even you had to admit that there was a certain appeal to showing up at some party he was at, dressed to the nines, and bringing home another guy all while he watched. You sat up and stared at Ginny, before hesitantly saying, ". . . Go on."
-
"I know darling it's upsetting, darling, but . . . you're just not my kind of girl."
The words rang out in your head as you stood before a large mansion belonging to one of the many wealthy students at your campus. Cars were parked around the enormous driveway and the music from inside was booming so loudly that your could feel your bones vibrate with the beat.
Ginny slipped her arm through yours and flashed you one of her adventurous smiles. "Cheer up - you're going to be the prettiest girl they ever did see," Ginny said mockingly, pinching your cheeks. You barked out a laugh, playfully shoving her arm away.
"You sound like some posh grandma."
"But I'm your posh grandma," Ginny responded with a pout as you two began to climb the stone steps to the completely open front door. (I mean, seriously, who leaves the door to their house open? It's like they're asking to be robbed.)
The music steadily became louder upon approach, making it almost impossible to hear your own voice as you entered. The sleek wooden floors were bathed in a variety of disco lights, an odd contrast in comparison to the lovely home that looked like it belonged to some stuffy old Oxford professor.
"Hello ladies," said a jubilant man leaning against the doorframe leading to the foyer. He looked Ginny up and down before pushing himself off the wall and approaching Ginny. "Lovely to see you again." He sent a wink Ginny's way, which she responded to with a playful roll of her eyes. You finally recognized him - he was a sports major, friends with some of her older brothers. Lee, you remembered his name was. He was a flirt - he had tried with you once, when you were with Mattheo. It didn't end so well for him.
"I'm glad to see your nose is doing better, Jordan," you spoked with a friendly smile.
He pinched it and then looked down at his hand. "Good as new, I suppose, but there's still a scar on my heart," he claimed dramatically, walking wistfully away with the expression of a lovelorn, heartbroken lead in a Victorian drama. You and Ginny giggled and delved further into the lion's den. Numerous people greeted you, but especially Ginny (she had always been the popular one). A paticular boy, Harry, had his eye on her for quite some time. You wouldn't be one to say he was unattractive - he was fairly pretty. He was a Criminal Justice major and a pretty nice guy from your understanding. But you knew Ginny wasn't interested.
When Ginny stopped walking, you did too, as your arms were intertwined. You followed her line of sight and smirked at what - well, who - she was staring at. A wistfully odd girl with pale blonde hair down to her waist and an odd sort of dress adorning her body. People gave her odd looks, whispering to their friends. Why is she here? No one likes her.
You nudged Ginny multiple times to grab her attention once more. "Hey, you can go on without me. I'll be fine."
"What? No! I'm not abandoning you, you're my best friend and -"
"Go," you insisted. "I promise, I'll be fine."
She looked rather torn, glancing between the two of you before stomping her feet and letting out a groan. "I hate you," she whined.
"I hate you too," you responded with a grin. You turned her around, your hands on her shoulders, and pushed in her in the general direction of one eccentric Luna Lovegood. "Now go! Don't worry about me, we've been planning this for days!"
"Good luck!" She shouted at you before she disappeared into the sea of people. A few moments later, after much difficultly trying to see her, you saw her chatting up the girl. All right, my turn, you thought.
You scoured the room - you wouldn't say you were the most introverted person in the world, but you definitely weren't the most outgoing either. You needed to find someone who would really pull at Mattheo's nerves, make those prominent veins pop out of his head. You wanted him to feel the anger and the pain that you felt. You wanted to get him back!
There was no one on the bottom floor that caught your eye, so you climbed the stairs to where the more . . . elegant students were. (Rich, more like.)
They weren't anymore sophisticated than the people downstairs, but there was still that air of refinement that made you feel slightly out of place. You wandered around the many rooms for a bit before you found a kitchen (they had one upstairs and downstairs?) Grabbing a drink, you wandered around some more, making friendly conversations with some of your peers. As you were talking with Neville, a very kind boy from one of your general education courses, someone in paticular caught your eye and everything clicked.
Theodore Nott. He was the son to a rather rich Italian man, the CEO of one of the most well-known designer shoe brands in Europe. His mother died rather unfortunately of illness at a young age. He's been very prominent, especially in recent years. He's been a model for his father's company, he was in the top 5% of your class, and he's - well - he's known as the most handsome boy in your year.
You definitely weren't going to deny that - he was drop-dead gorgeous. His eyes were so . . . alluring. Dark and sexy, a pool of emotions shrouded by mystery. Okay, so maybe you were going far too overboard with your description of him, but for the love of God, was he attractive.
Somehow, he could feel your gaze upon him. He had been sitting on a couch, telling a story to a tight-knit group of friends, Mattheo included you noticed, that you had taken your eyes off of him. You felt embarrassed, pretended to look around the room, and then turned your attention back towards Neville with an encouraging smile that pretended that you had been listening to him rant all along.
"Excuse me," you heard Nott say, standing up from the couch. The champagne flute in his hand was rather empty so you deduced that he was probably going to go fill it. An educated guess, but an incorrect one. He did something you never expected. He approached you.
"Longbottom, I hear Greengrass has a question about a Geo-sci class you two share. She seemed rather distressed by it. I'm sure she'd appreciate your help," Theo told Neville - you glanced at Daphne Greengrass. She looked nowhere near distressed, but Neville perked up in excitement.
"R-really?" He asked nervously, wringing his hands. He gave you a sheepish smile. "Talk to you later, I've got to go help Daphne."
"Yeah, see you later Nev," you replied. Nott looked down at you for a moment before raising his glass.
"It seems we're both in need of a refill. Care to join me?" His expression was nothing more than emotionless, except perhaps the tiniest smirk that remained upon those rose-dusted lips. You shrugged nonchalantly, only just noticing the vacancy in your glass.
"Sure, why not?"
You followed a quite Theodore Nott to the kitchen again, where he poured himself champagne from a very specialized fridge unit filled with distinguished bottles of liquor - merlot and pinot noir and all those fancy alcohols you would have assumed people like him drank. He silently offered you some by tipping the bottle towards you. You offered him your glass, which he poured a fair amount in, not too much, not too little. Just right.
"I'm suprised to see you here."
You arched a brow in response as he took a light sip from the flute resting in a delicate balance between his two fingers. Precariously, a smile dained your face. "And why is that?"
"Your Riddle's ex-girl, aren't you?"
He asked in such a way that seemed as though he didn't care much at all.
The smile from your face disappeared, replaced by something much more bitter. You shrugged, but the action was much more passive-agressive than you had intended it to be. "So what? Does that mean something to you?"
He placed the flute down, the glass clinking against the marble countertop. "Riddle and I have a . . . complicated relationship."
"You mean, your dear old daddies are both relevant, rival shoe designers?" You said it so innocently. Nott smirked at you.
"Yeah, something like that. Listen," he leaned in close to you, leaning his arms against the counter in an attempt to lower himself to your level. He was rather lanky and tall, which you supposed was good for a model, but hard for when you want to actually talk to him. "You and I both want something from him."
"And what's that, Nott?" You asked with mock curiosity, placing your chin in the palm of your hands with a tilt of your head.
"Well, let's just say you didn't come here tonight, dressed like that, in the hopes that he would fuck you," he responded, quite bluntly. Well, you supposed that sort of honesty was an inherited trait. "Everyone knows what went down between you two - he aired out your dirty laundry for all to see. No, you came back here to get revenge."
"Astute," you said with a tone of disdain. Taking a sip of your champagne, you found that it actually had a much more delightful taste than any other alcohol you had. You smacked down the glass on the countertop. "Really, Nott, thanks for that." You began to leave but Theo grabbed you by the arm.
"Wait! Just . . . listen," he said, panting slightly. His brows were scrunchdd together in frustration - he seemed genuinely distressed. The only reason you stayed was because you realized something rather odd.
You turned towards him with furrowed brows. "Is Theodore Nott . . . desperate for something?" You asked with a disbelieving scoff. At the sight of his jaw clenching, his eyes avoiding yours, you let out a shocked laugh.
"Shut it," he muttered, sending you a dark glare.
"Now that's certainly out of character," you said, slugging off his iron grip. "All right, you've got my attention. What is it?"
"My father's been trying to score one over Riddle for years. Rumor is Mattheo's father wants him to marry a good woman, someone that won't tarnish his son's so-called good reputation. And well, you . . . slipped through his fingers like sand. Stealing him from you would make my father more . . . proud."
You crinkled up your nose. "You're not proposing to me, are you? Cause the answer is no."
"No, no. I'm just asking you to date me, at least for a bit."
The sound of it seemed ridiculous, but then you thought - you were both getting something out of it. It was nothing more than a partnership, and a good one at that. Either way, you'd be pulling one over Mattheo and that would be good enough for you.
"How much is 'for a bit'?"
-
"Everyone." Theo had walked back into the room, you snuggled comfortably into his arms. He had tapped a fork against his glass, gathering the attention of his friends. Mattheo's jaw dropped, the hand swung around some girl you had seen around slithering it's way back to his side. "I want to introduce you to my girlfriend."
That's right, you smug snake. I win.
part two coming soon . . . <3
#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x you#theo nott x you#theo nott x reader#my writing#fanfiction#— [ glizzy posts ☆ ]#my fanfiction#my fic#writing#fanfic#harry potter#slytherin boys
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