#but i might stop taking it once i have a deeper voice ngl. i have pcos so my t levels r enough for a masc face and some facial hair | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

refiwrites · 2 years

Note

Hi, I see your request is open, maybe a hurt/comfort fic with steven grant? I really need a hug right now and he's my comfort character at the moment and I think he needs hugs too, it doesn't have to be romantic, like reader and him are at his place and he's opening up about his struggles and reader just slowly and gently hug him mid conversation and hugs reader back, both feeling not alone anymore 😖 thank you so much!

hello!! aw i hope you feel better, here's a hug from me and steven! <3 this made me want a hug as well ngl :<

Hold Me

Pairing: Steven Grant x GN! Reader (can be read platonically or romantically!)

Summary: Steven opens up to you, and you just want nothing but to hold him.

WC: 1.6K

Warning/s: set around episode 1, angst, steven being sad again :(, hurt/comfort, mentions of violence, blood, guns, let me know if I miss anything!

GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!

You wanted to reach him as fast as you could after he called. Even though you were a few good minutes away from his place you still found yourself running and bumping into people, some even shouted at you while some exclaimed in surprise.

“Hiya (Y/N)... Can we talk? Its just...”

You remember hearing from him, his voice seemed shaken and you, his best friend that he met also working in the museum. You were used to his stories and him opening up whenever he doesn’t have fun Egyptian facts to tell when you found yourselves doing over time.

But this one felt different, he doesn’t sound like his usual cheery self.

Running past people, you almost stumbled forward, trying to stop yourself in front of the apartment. You rang for Steven’s doorbell and you opened the door, hurrying upstairs that you felt like your knees were on fire. You certainly weren’t getting any younger.

You finally reached the top, trying to catch your breath as you panted in front of his door. You sucked in a breath as you knocked, alerting him of your presence.

Sooner the door opens, and reveals Steven. “Blimey, I certainly didn’t expect you to get here this fast.” Steven chuckles as you take a final exhale before standing back up.

That’s when you notice his appearance. He looked worn out. His curls were over the place as his eyes seemed to darken more as the bags in his eyes looked deeper than before. His expression remained the same, the optimistic cheery Steven, that it almost didn’t fit the state he was in.

“Wanted to get here as fast as I could, you’re the closest person to me, literally and figuratively I suppose.” You joked, hoping to at least lift his spirits up. That seemed to do something as he laughed, looking at you.

He paused before he suddenly shakes his head. “Oh, where are my manners, come in, I’ll get you some water.” He says, moving sideways so you could enter his flat.

Walking in, you were instantly enveloped by the feeling of home. Though all the times you’ve been here it was now taking the shape of your second home.

You always found yourself here as Steven read to you about the books he was reading when you had difficulty sleeping. Surprisingly, Steven seemed to have that problem too, he said to you one night as he read. That’s when you both grew close with each other, helping the other to try to sleep or the complete opposite of it.

That’s why Donna-The-Grinch had you doing inventory together when she finds the both of you late.

You made yourself comfortable as always, approaching Gus which seemed odd as you noticed he currently had grown a fin. “Hey, did Gus-“

“Grew a fin? Yeah that’s what I’ve thought so too, I still think its not him, and that’s what I’ve been- That’s what I’ve been wanting to talk about, not just Gus of course but other things that I think might be going on with me.” He said, handing you the glass of water which you took gratefully, taking the sip felt like a heavenly feeling.

“Hey, talk to me.” You say, jerking your head onto his couch.

Once you’ve both made yourselves comfortable on said couch, he was tapping on his legs as he was looking down, not knowing where to begin.

You sat beside him, leaning on the headrest. “I-I’m sorry its just that I don’t know where to begin.” He says, looking at you as his hands gestured.

You nod, sitting up and looking at him. “Take your time Steven, we’ve got all day, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“I just feel like something... Something’s wrong with me... I don’t feel like its a sleeping disorder anymore.” He started.

“Why? Did something happen?”

“I- I just went to sleep, yeah? I went to sleep after a few hours and- and when I woke up...” He inhales. “I found myself in a field, there were... Its a long story..” He sighs.

“And I’ve got all the time, Steven. I’m here.” You reassure him as he gives a little nod of thanks.

“Then I- there were men shooting at me, I didn’t even know what I was doing in that field! I- then there was this man... Who was judging people, yes, he was judging people and there was this lady that came up to him...” He shuts his eyes, trying to recall the day.

“Then something happens and before I knew it there was this wild chase and I was driving a van, there were guns... blood... everywhere.” He sucks in a breath as his hands began to tremble.

You act, sitting close by him and rubbing his back.

“I wanted to go home, then- I wake up, then I was home. I thought it was all a dream,” He breathed out. “Then I see Gus having two fins I had to take him to the pet shop where I got him and she said I’ve gone there yesterday— surely if I did go there, I would remember it right? Why couldn’t I remember it?”

“Then I was supposed to- uh meet with someone then... I got the news that it was Sunday already... Its like somebody put a pause button in my life as the world carried on, then pressed play and suddenly I know nothing about what I’ve or where I’ve gone to.” He was speaking too fast now that you’ve barely heard it all but you were thankful you did.

You furrowed your eyebrows, you remember coming to work two days later without Steven clocking in, you spent the day yourself in the museum and at home. You didn’t contact him as suppose you didn’t want to interrupt him; besides it was just two days, but it seemed like those two days put a lot on his shoulders.

“Hey, hey.” You try to calm him down when it suddenly clicked to you that the days lined up with what he said, and you started believing him.

“I can’t believe it, everything- everything was going fine! I had my bloody life under control then bam! Out of nowhere it stops, my goldfish isn’t even my goldfish and there’s these people- Oh, my days, there’s these people looking after me for something I haven’t even taken-“ His voice cracked as his eyes brimmed with tears.

With the way he was speaking you felt all the anxiety and pressure he expressed in that moment, for a moment you saw yourself in him, a few months back when you found yourself having a panic attack and he was the one who talked you through it.

You remember telling him about the things you’ve been through. And now to see him in that state also hurt you like a truck, he was such a down to earth, optimistic, generous man. And now you were willing to do everything that you can to make him feel better like he did to you back then.

So, you suddenly found yourself hugging him, arms going around his form as you feel him leaning in, giving his weight to you as he leaned his head on your shoulder, his arms carefully wove around you as they slowly but surely tightened, pulling you closer. You felt yourself frown as you rubbed his back, hearing him sniff as he took a shaky breath. He needed this and you felt like you needed it to.

The both of you barely even remembered the feeling of being hugged, how the warmth of your bodies radiated against each other, how he often squeezed you, holding onto the feeling of being suddenly light, as if his problems were at the very back of his head as you rubbed comforting circles on him.

You wanted to make sure that he wasn’t alone as you carefully put a hand on the back of his neck as you softly placed a kiss onto the side of his head. It was a simple but comforting gesture that Steven, trying all his might to let himself stay in this feeling, pull his head away from your shoulder, glancing at you.

You began to feel nervous, thinking maybe you shouldn’t have done that. You were about to open your mouth to apologize when he beat you to it, seeming as though he didn’t mind what you did.

“Y-you believe me, right?” He suddenly asked, looking at you with those eyes of his, worried, spent, and lacked of sleep.

“I do, Steven. I fully believe you.” You said with all honesty as you smiled reassuringly at Steven. “I’m with you.”

Steven slowly nods, his breathing slowly returned to normal as he blinked away his tears. “(Y/N)...Could we.. Could you...” He utters.

“Hm?” You ask. “Can we stay like this for a while? I’m good with it as well if you don’t wanna, its a silly thing, really.” He says, chuckling shyly.

You thought he’d never ask. “Hold on, let me,” You say, repositioning yourself so your back was propped on the ledge of the couch. Steven looked at you curiously.

“Then lay here, okay? It’s like what we used to do, only I’m going to be the one holding you.” You nodded to yourself with a laugh, sending a wave of comfort through him.

“Y-you sure?” He unsurely asks.

“I’m sure, Steven, you need to rest for a while.” You say genuinely. Steven hesitated for a second before slowly moving forward, laying all his weight on you as he rests his head on your chest, slowly breathing out as his arm wrapped around you.

You smile, raking your fingers through his curly locks. “I hope I’m not too heavy for ya..” He says. You shake your head, but remembered he couldn’t see you.

“No, no you’re not.”

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barzzal · 3 years

Note

Okay but the fanfic trope where the couple is like “I could totally go without sex longer than you could” and then they’re so miserable until they finally cave?? Mat is so competitive and stubborn he’d absolutely take that challenge

warnings: pg (18+), fluff, sexual and suggestive themes, slightest hint of pining i guess you might miss it, (a/n: i lowkey want this for myself ngl thank u nonnie)

Seven days. That’s how long Mat has been keeping himself from touching you - and frankly, himself too.

It was stupid and foolish just like the time he’s agreed to do the ‘No Nut’ with Beau last November. Clearly, he just can’t think straight when his winning is at stake.

If you had only asked him, the entire week was torture. Mind-numbing torture. Not to mention how the two of you are just casually throwing your subtle moves onto each other hoping the other would finally cave and just give in.

But Mat has had to break the habit of underestimating you. Let alone letting you partake in a challenge that he knows you’re eventually gonna win. Hell, you’ve punished him enough just by how you’re constantly hinting on how much you needed him. He knows well enough that you’re just playing with him but Mat, as bad as he wants to win every fight, is beginning to lose his sanity.

You, on the other hand, weren’t doing as good as Mathew thinks either. You know you’d be able to make him cave just by perking your ass and pressing it against his groin when cuddling, but boy, that man is all about winning more than he’s all about that ass.

His teasing doesn’t help either. Not that he was the best at it but you’re just so unbelievably attracted to the man that he can literally lift and play with a metal spoon and that would drive you crazy all throughout the day. In deed, torture is an understatement when you’re up against the face of the New York Islanders.

“I don’t really see the point why we’re even doing this.” you sigh, taking a spoonful of cookie dough ice cream into your mouth in the most unlady-like fashion.

Mat rolls his eyes and scoffs, “I’m doing this to escape two weeks of laundry and doing the dishes. I have a lot at stake.” he lies, averting his gaze away from how you’re licking off your spoon like a neanderthal. Mat swears that you can be the nastiest person in the room and he would still have his neck broken by you just because he can’t stop looking.

“I’m just saying,” you stop to swallow, “I’m never gonna admit that I’m a bad driver. That alone is a lot at stake for me as well and I’m not about letting you win either.”

“But…” Mat looks at you with an arched brow.

“How’d you even know there’s gonna be a ‘but’?” you question.

“I just know, baby.” he winks and chuckles. “Go on.”

“But- just so you know, should you let me win, tapping anytime of the week will be back on the table.” you tell him innocently as you dig into the cold treat yet again.

Mathew takes a while to answer but resorts to shaking his head shamelessly, “Hah. Hell no. You’re not getting me that way.” he refuses.

You shrug, so sure of yourself. “Wanna bet?”

𖥸

That night, sleep eludes Mathew as he waits for you to turn in for bed. You had to answer an important business call and you have been stuck in front of your computer for the last two hours.

Mat gets up and leaves the bedroom only to find you with your blazer and glasses on, too occupied to even notice him walk into the living room.

He carefully treads his way to you so as to let his presence be known. You give him a quick glance and decide to turn off your camera and microphone for a while, “I’m so sorry I didn’t think this would take hours.”

Mat says nothing other than smile and lean towards you to plant a small kiss on top of your head.

He lovingly rubs your back and says, “Go, do your thing, babe.”

You give him a smile and mouth him a ‘thank you’ when he returns to place a hot cup of coffee on the table. He sits on the armchair in the living room so as to keep distance from you for he didn’t want to become a distraction. He watches you talk in your work language whilst he sips on his decaf. It’ll be a while before you finish up that he might as well wait and go to bed at the same time as you will.

It was almost two in the morning by the time you’ve finally wrapped up the meeting. Your boss was stuck in Asia so you had to do some adjustments - most of it tailored to her time. You love your job so you didn’t feel the need to complain. On the more important note, however, was the man you love sleeping in your living room.

You sigh and run your fingers through his hair softly, not wanting to wake him up.

But of course, being that he’s a light sleeper, you end up doing the opposite.

Mat shifts to see you clearly, fighting himself from closing his eyes due to fatigue, causing your hand to fall and take rest caressing his warm cheek.

“Why didn’t you sleep in the bedroom?” you quietly ask.

“I was waiting for you.” he smiles weakly, admittedly enjoying how your voice sounded in his ears. “Are you finished?” he asks, voice a bit raspy.

You only nod, leaning to kiss the tip of his nose, but Mat is fast regardless of his groggy state and catches you with his lips instead.

The kiss is slow and tender. One that’s meant to catch you off guard before you eventually sink into it.

By the time the two of you break away, your hand was already wrapped around his jaw and a part of his neck, whilst he held you by your waist as you sat on his lap with his other hand already caressing your thigh.

“I miss you.” he confesses, his voice nearly coming off as a growl.

“What about the bet?” you ask him, almost whispering. “I know you hate losing.”

He kisses you yet again, the sound waking you even more than the amount of caffeine coursing through your veins ever did. “I fold,” he declares. “you win.”

Your kisses begin to grow deeper once you answer Mat’s invitation. Your legs, just like the other times, miraculously find its way to dangle itself around Mathew. His hands mirrored your body language as it wrapped fittingly around your waist. Neither of you dared to break the kiss even when Mat pulled you closer to enclose himself in between your legs. He stands, a hand in support of your back, the other weaving through your hair as he carefully maneuvered around the coffee table towards your bedroom door.

When the night’s over, you wake up to his empty side of the bed, only to see him in the kitchen at 7 in the morning — putting away the dishes you left in the dishwasher the night you finally gotten laid after a good seven-day dry streak.

it’s wet weekends!

#mat barzal imagine #mat barzal smut #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal x reader #nhl smut #hockey smut #wet weekends

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leoneslover · 3 years

Text

Lollipop ⊹ ۪ ˑ ִ ֗ ִ

Buddha(snv) x reader(fem!)

Prompt: I wonder if his lips taste as sweet as the candy he eats...

Warnings: NSFW!suggestive, semi-public, oral fixiation, biting, spit swapping, food play?? (Just toying with a lollipop).

A/n: this is EXTREMELY self-indulgent and I am not sorry for it. Buddha got me down bad ngl 🤕🤕

· • —–٠ ⊹ ★ ⊹ ٠—– • ·

You watched intensely at the god in front of you, the silence between you two thick with tension, though you weren’t so sure of what kind. The whole ragnarok situation got everyone pretty uneasy, and you weren’t an exception at that, fidgeting in your spot as you waited.

He wasn’t really looking back at you, his back against the wall, staring to his side at the other end of the hallway, waiting as well. And you’d be doing the same, if it wasn’t for the lollipop that he kept rolling in his mouth. For some reason you just couldn’t keep your eyes away from it. The sounds of the little stick clashing against his fangs as he toyed with it seemed to pull you in a trance.

The fact that he was pretty handsome as well wasn’t helping at all. You’ve never really got a chance to interact with Buddah in the past, you’ve seen him a couple of times sure, maybe even made eye contact once, but that was really it. But now he was standing in front of you, an indescribable aura around him as he lazily pulled the candy out of his mouth. Cherry red glistening as he rolled it in between his fingers.

It was almost hypnotizing, the way he slowly brought it back towards his mouth, tongue coming out to give it a couple of tentative licks, his fangs poking out slightly as he slid the lollipop down his flat tongue. You could feel your own mouth going dry, heat going up your face at the lewdness of his actions. His lips puckered up as he just kept playing with the candy, that was now almost completely covered with his spit, making it glisten in the light of the hallway and staining his lips with a shiny red tint.

“Do you like cherries?” He broke the silence suddendly. His voice taking you out of your little trance, just to find out he was now staring at you right in the eyes.

A shiver ran down your spine, his gaze lazily hinting at something as he offered you a small smile. And even though you felt pretty embarrassed (for both staring and from his earlier actions), there was something about him that made you relax a little, as if he was giving you the green light to play along his teasing game if you wanted to. And oh how you really wanted to.

“Did nobody ever tell you to not play with your food before you eat it?” The double implication of your words hanging heavy in the air as he raised his eyebrows in surprise, before laughing lightly.

“Hmm probably, but I can’t really remember...” he trailed off, getting off the wall and slowly making his way towards you, “but I know you’re not supposed to answer a question with another question, right?”

He stopped right in front of you, taking the lollipop back into his mouth as he waited for your next move. You smiled sideways, looking up to him with your arms crossed in front of your chest.

“I suppose you’re right” you leaned back into the wall, and as you were going to reply with something else, he interrupted you by taking the candy out of his mouth again with a popping sound.

“Want some?” He offered you with a glint of playfulness in his eyes, barely masked by the glasses that rested low on his nose bridge. You rose a brow, a little confused as to what he was offering you exactly. But curiosity got the best of you, giving in once more to his little teasing game.

You nodded, and he smiled. An almost mischievous expression as he got even closer to you, leaning down until your heads were lined up. His intense gaze bored into yours, and you thought he might just go and kiss you, the mere thinking of it being enough to make your heartbeat pick up speed. However he just stayed there, calm as ever, as he brought the lollipop up to your mouth-

Oh-

His cherry stained lips curled into a different smirk as you parted your lips for him, letting him push the candy into your mouth as he watched intently. It was sweet, as sweet as a lollipop could be, and you couldn’t ignore the fact that he was the one sucking on it before. Your breath hitched as he held the little stick for you, gaze traveling down to where your lips were sealed around it.

You licked around the candy in your mouth, playing with it as it’s sweet strong cherry flavor coated your senses. He didn’t say anything, just stared as you repeated some of his earlier ministrations yourself, a bit of drool pooling at the sides of your mouth from all the licking and sucking.

His eyes shot up to your eyes again, just to find out you were already staring at him, and that you have been all this time. Softly, he popped the candy out of your mouth, now staring in awe at your shiny lips.

“So pretty..” he hummed, voice low as he got even closer, a hand coming up to cup your face, thumb traveling down to your lips, pressing against them as he swiped it through the mix of sticky melted candy and saliva. “Who knew you could look so pretty, (y/n)-chan~”

You felt your own face getting warm at the situation. The way he pronounced your name having you weak at the knees, even though you didn’t really remember telling him your name right now.

His breath was tickling your face, and as he placed his other hand in the wall behind you, right my your head, trapping you against him, you couldn’t help but to start feeling a little hot all over. He pulled your lower lip down slightly, just enough for your mouth to open a bit so he could finally plant a kiss on them.

His own lips were wet as well, sliding perfectly against yours in a kiss that seemed to scalate pretty quickly. You closed your eyes and gave in to kiss, letting him take over as he shoved his tongue in your mouth, the taste of cherry combined with his own flavor erupting a pleased noise from the back of your throat. The hand that cupped your cheek slowly slid down the side of your neck, ghosting over your chest and finally stopping to get a grip of your waist.

He broke the kiss, giving you a break to catch your breath as his own fanned over your mouth, heavy breathing sounds being the only thing that broke the silence between you. He smirked, placing another shorter kiss on your lips before bringing his other hand down. He placed the lollipop back against your lips, and you didn’t think twice before taking it back into your mouth, cold and sweet against your heated tongue.

He didn’t hold the stick for you this time, letting you do as you pleased as he placed his hand on your hip instead. His head hung low right next to yours, breath tickling your neck, lips ghosting over your pulse point in hopes of getting some sort of reaction. And he did, not missing the way your breath hitched and how you tilted your neck for him, giving him more access.

He placed light kisses all over your jaw, slowly moving down as he switched for deeper kisses this time. Eventually you could feel him sucking on your skin, open mouthed kisses in search of your weak spot. You placed a hand on his shoulder, a light moan finally escaping your lips as you tried your best to not lose it right there and then. The hand that was holding your hip softly made its way under your shirt, warm fingers traveling towards your lower back to press you agasint him, only your shoulders being supported by the wall behind you as he held you in place.

His fangs grazed your soft skin and you shivered, feeling goosebumps rise on your skin at the sensation. And like always, he noticed. He did it again, purposely this time, and then again, dragging them with a little bit of pressure all the way from your jaw to almost your collarbone. You moaned, a little louder this time, almost dropping the lollipop that you were still holding in your mouth.

Encouraged by your reaction, he bit down softly on your weak spot, immediately soothing any posible sting with his tongue. But you just moaned again, nails now pressing against the bare skin of his shoulder were you placed your hand earlier. He bit down again, harder, and the feeling of you involuntarily rolling your hips upwards against his had him groaning agasint your skin.

He continued to nibble and kiss on your neck, definitely leaving a couple of marks that you were going to have to worry about later on. But you didn’t really care right now. You didn’t really care about anything else right now. Not even about the fact that you were in the middle of a hallway, where anyone who were to pass by could clearly see you. Or about how you were supposed to be patiently waiting for... who were you even waiting for?? You forgot, clearly, and your head was too busy with what was happening to remember.

He raised his head slightly, enough for his breath to tickle your ear as he spoke, “I think we’re gonna have to continue this later darling, if you still want to~”.

You frowned, a little confused. Why did he had to stop now, just as you were getting to the good part. You were going to reply, but he suddenly stood up, letting you down against the wall again and taking the lollipop out of your mouth to place it on his once again.

The sudden noise of steps being heard in the distance was all the answer you needed as he stepped back into his previous spot across from you, not before gifting you a playful smirk that promised more fun for later.

#snv x reader #snv buddha #ror buddha #shuumatsu no walkure #shuumatsu no valkyrie #snv #record of ragnarok #ror x reader #[🌶]— spice #[🍓]— txt

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jackrrabbit · 4 years

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If I may I just want Overhaul to do me on his desk during a meeting showing the precepts his personal slut

Yubitsume /// Overhaul x f!reader (18+)

Yubitsume: a Japanese ritual primarily performed by the yakuza to atone for offenses to another; a way to be punished or to show sincere apology and remorse.

This story takes place before Chisaki becomes the leader of the Shie Hassaikai and before he puts the big boss in a coma. ngl this was fun to write 😎

Tags/warnings: exhibitionism, coercion (dubcon-ish?), mild humiliation, yakuza members be perving, reader’s quirk makes it impossible for her skin to be cut (it’s relevant I promise), references to violence, some light possessiveness at the end there

You’re softer than you look.

Chisaki’s never really touched you before, so he had no way of knowing until now. Maybe it’s a subconscious association with your quirk, which prevents anything from breaking your skin, but he didn’t think you’d be so yielding. Every bit of you that he can touch is tender and unresisting under his grasp. He almost wants to take off his latex gloves so he can grip your hips and feel how smooth you are against his bare skin.

Ah…but this isn’t for his sake. It’s for yours. Your punishment, your atonement. He’s supposed to be teaching you a lesson, not feeling good. The irresistible heat of your cunt hugging over his cock is just a perk.

“Watch closely, men,” the Boss’s voice rings out across the long, narrow table, cutting across the wet sounds of Chisaki’s flesh slapping against yours. His thrusts slow and then stop with his cock buried deep inside you, giving the Boss a chance to speak over the two of you.

When the room is silent save for the sounds of your breath mixing with Chisaki’s, the Boss speaks again. “This is what happens to those who betray the interests of the Shie Hassaikai. Keep going, Chisaki.”

It’s not like he needs to tell them to watch, Chisaki thinks as he picks up the pace again. Every man in the room is staring intently at the coupling as Chisaki fucks you over the desk. You’re bent forward with your ass sticking out toward him, one trembling leg holding you up while the other is folded up on the wooden surface, angling your pussy into a perfect position for him to thrust into. You’re barely holding your face off the desk with your elbows propped up, and every time Chisaki pushes his cock back into you, you rock forward and the desk creaks under your combined weight.

It’s hardly the solemn atmosphere that’s usually considered necessary for this kind of punishment. The men watching are doing so with lascivious interest, some laughing, some making comments under their breath to each other, and some just staring. He can hardly blame them. The view from the front must be incredible—your tits bouncing, your hands holding onto the edge of the desk for dear life…

What does your face look like right now? Chisaki can’t see when he’s fucking you from the back, but he wishes he could. Are you ducking to hide your lewd expression from the men you’ve worked alongside since you joined the Shie Hassaikai? Are you biting your lip to hold back the sound of your moaning, trying to salvage the little bit of dignity you have left? From the muted noises of your voice (the little uh—uh—uh’s you can’t quite keep from slipping out), he thinks it’s pretty likely.

But if it’s between seeing you and being inside you, Chisaki knows he’s getting the better deal. Fuck, it’s like your throbbing cunt just keeps sucking him in deeper and deeper. What with the heat of your body and the slickness lubing him up in between your pussy lips, it’s getting difficult to hold back his own grunts of pleasure. His thrusts are getting less controlled and sloppier every time he pumps into you.

The men are watching…they’re watching you, Chisaki has to remind himself in order to stop the urge to lean lower over the desk and rut you for all he’s worth, observers be damned. How much deeper can you take it? Probably a little more than this, right?

His next thrust has him bumping up against your cervix, forcing a kittenish whine out of you. A couple of the voyeurs laugh. One wolf whistles. Chisaki’s noticed that the hairs on the back of your neck raise up when the men get loud, and right now your skin is pebbled with goosebumps.

“Don’t let her hide from her shame, Chisaki. Hold her up so we can see.”

Chisaki hesitates, then curls his fingers over your upper arm and drags your torso up off the desk to display your naked chest to the boss and the rest of the Shie Hassaikai. Your head lolls forward and then rolls back onto his shoulder, your damp back flush against the fabric of his shirt.

The position is a little more awkward, and he has to tilt his hips to the side a little to push back into you. On the other hand, it seems like he’s hitting your g-spot at a better angle judging by the way your pussy is twitching around his length.

“Ch…Chisaki,” you whimper, only to wince and snap your eyes shut when the name earns a suggestive whoop from one of the men watching you.

“Aw baby, you gonna beg him?” Rappa asks, voice a mocking growl. You flinch and Chisaki can feel how tense you are. The muscles in your arms go rigid as you try to jerk out of his grip.

Another thrust has you squeaking out a high-pitched moan. “Fuck yeah, make ‘er scream,” someone calls out, but Chisaki ignores it in favor of rocking deeper into you, careful to slide his thick cockhead against your g-spot. This time you’re barely able to keep your voice down, but you can’t conceal the muscles in your pussy pulsating over him.

It feels good, doesn’t it? he wants to ask you, but he knows he can’t. It’s not supposed to feel good for you. You’re supposed to be…reflecting on your mistake or something. When he’s balls deep in your pussy, it’s hard to keep track of what kind of atonement this is supposed to be.

“I see you’re once again capable of speech, (Y/N),” the Boss says, silencing the other Shie Hassaikai members. This time, however, Chisaki can’t bring himself to stop fucking you long enough to let his benefactor speak uninterrupted. The Boss doesn’t seem to mind, though, as he continues— “Enlighten us as to why we’re watching Chisaki bed you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Chisaki can see your chin tip forward so you’re looking hesitantly at the Boss. Your face is so red, but you manage to form words despite your embarrassment. “P-P-Punishment… Instead of y-yubitsume, I’m being—being punished…”

Yubitsume. The yakuza ritual of cutting off one’s own pinky finger at the first knuckle to make recompense for an insult or injury committed against the organization, a mutilation that not only increases difficulty of combat and manual labor but also brands the afflicted with a public stigma. By tradition, yubitsume is the appropriate penalty for the crime you perpetrated, but your quirk makes it impossible. No blade can pierce your skin.

This—getting fucked by Chisaki while the Shie Hassaikai watches—was suggested as a substitute method of apology. There were other alternatives, other ways to exact retribution on your body (you may not bleed, but you can certainly bruise…and break). This method was almost a kindness, or at least that’s how the Boss had explained it to you until you reluctantly agreed.

Still, as the men who used to see you as a fellow (an equal, even) now jeer at you and call for Chisaki to fuck that little slut harder, he has to wonder whether this is really the kinder option.

“And what are you being punished for?” the Boss asks.

“I-I did something wrong—uhn!” You snatch a betrayed glance at Chisaki as his arm snakes around so he can grope at your breast and pinch your nipple between two fingers. “I—! Brought p-police, to the Shie Hassaikai…”

Chisaki knows better than the rest of them how minor your crime was. The transgression had nothing to do with them, and it would have happily gone unpunished had you not been caught by the authorities. The yakuza might care little about petty lawbreaking, but your real offense had been attracting the attention of the cops. They’d been lucky to get away without a thorough inspection. Now you’re paying the price for your carelessness.

“Good. As all of you know, I have no wish to treat (Y/N) too harshly. Chisaki…finish her off.”

There it is. This may be your atonement, but Chisaki’s aware that he’s being punished as well. He’s the one who brought you to the organization, and so your wrongdoing is partially his responsibility. The Boss knows how much Chisaki would usually hate this…having to touch someone’s bare flesh so intimately and so publicly. He’s getting hives just thinking about being in this position with someone else.

But it’s not someone else. It’s you. You with your untouchable skin, so clean and soft. You with your tight, hot pussy swallowing every inch of his cock so nicely. For the first time since he can remember, he half-wishes he were wearing less clothing just so he could feel you…and every second he’s inside you he regrets putting on a condom more.

And now he’s got the Boss’s blessing to make you cum on his cock. Chisaki’s hand drops from your breast down to your pussy and his index finger swirls around your clit. You gasp and cry out (much to the appreciation of the men watching), and Chisaki has to bite down on a growl of his own as your innards clamp down on him.

You’re probably close to cumming already. No, no, you’re definitely close. Even with no direct stimulation to your clit until now, Chisaki’s been fucking you for ages. All that friction over your g-spot has taken you right up to your edge, and it’s not going to take much more to push you over.

You’re already pulsing around him intermittently in rhythm with the pads of his fingers teasing your clit. The pressure of your pussy fluttering around every ridge and vein on his cock is excruciating, so fucking good that he can barely remember that the two of you are being watched. The other gang members are getting louder in their bawdy commentary of the pornographic scene playing out in front of them, but Chisaki tunes it out in favor of focusing on the way your shallow breaths meet the tempo of his thrusts.

With you draped over his chest, he barely has to adjust his position to push his masked face into the juncture of your neck and shoulder so he can nuzzle up and lick you through the stiff fabric. You shudder—ugh, do that again, he thinks—and your hips writhe weakly, trying to increase the stimulation of his hand on your clit. You’re about to cum, and so is Chisaki, but he carefully steers his hips to control both your reactions and his. When he pulls out of you he’s slow, tender, making sure you feel empty without him, but when he pushes back in he does it in a quick snap that stretches you out paired with a rough dab at your clit.

You’re coming apart in front of him, not even bothering to be quiet anymore. “Chisaki…Chisaki, I—I’m cumming!” you cry out, trying not to pay attention to all of the Shie Hassaikai egging you on and telling you what a good little whore you are. Your orgasm has your pussy sucking down on Chisaki’s cock, even tighter than before, like your body is instinctively trying to milk the cum out of him.

Goddamnit… Yeah, he’s not going to last for another minute with you clamping down on him like that. As soon as Chisaki’s sure you’re cumming so hard you’re barely coherent, he drops you gracelessly back down onto the desk so he can grab up your hips and fuck his last few pumps into you as savagely as possible. His fingers dig into your ass deeply enough that he’d be drawing blood if not for your quirk, and when the heat building in his cock spills over he holds you perfectly still despite your attempts to squirm away from him so that you feel him jerk and cum between your throbbing walls.

“(Y/N)…good, good girl,” he pants out as he gives a couple more shallow thrusts for good measure. Well, huh. That’s the first thing he’s said since he started fucking you.

When it’s too uncomfortable to stay inside for a second longer, Chisaki pulls out and tugs the filthy condom off, ties it, and drops it in the trash. He needs a shower…and something to wipe off on, but at the moment neither are available to him so he has to tuck himself back into his pants without cleaning up. Disgusting. Even though it’s just his own cum dirtying him, his skin is still crawling at the thought of it.

“Good work, Chisaki,” says the Boss, rising to his feet to leave. “You can clean up after her.”

Emboldened past their usual limits by what they just witnessed, the other men guffaw and taunt you as they follow the Boss out. Setsuno reaches out to slap your ass as he exits, but Chisaki stops him with a hand on his wrist. His hold isn’t painful, but the threat is clear.

If you touch her, you’re going to lose more than a pinky.

“R-Relax, Chisaki,” Setsuno stammers. “Hands off. I get it.”

Chisaki almost corrects him, almost tells Setsuno to call him by the right name—Overhaul. But the Boss isn’t quite out of earshot yet, and it wouldn’t do for him to hear. So he just lets Setsuno go. The rest of the men give the two of you a wide berth as they file out, although your pert little ass still gets a few lecherous glances as they leave.

And then it’s just you and him. You roll over onto your back and sit up on the desk. “…Chisaki? You don’t have to clean up, I’ll do it.”

How docile of you. You really are apologetic. To be honest, Chisaki should still be angry—you almost caused a lot of trouble for the Shie Hassaikai, and what with the plans he has in mind, getting the authorities to look a little closer at them could ruin everything. He shouldn’t be keeping a risk like you around, especially considering the Boss doesn’t usually let him play with you the way he’d like to.

But the Boss isn’t going to be the one making decisions for much longer. And until he’s out of the picture, Chisaki can’t wait for you to slip up again.

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ushidoux · 3 years

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Not Enough - Oikawa (Haikyuu) x Reader x Gojo (JJK)

Summary: Your relationship with Oikawa feels more like a curse than anything else as it comes to a close. (~4.2k words) or tl;dr gojo is mr. steal your girl

Warnings: breakup, idk Gojo is a warning, cracky angst?, pegging mention, yandere themes

A/N: Ngl I’m patting myself on the back for making a crossover fic work somewhat LOLLLL, you can roll your eyes if you want this is hella melodramatic.

(if you wanna commission more niche things, you can always dm me <3)

---

“I-I think it’s best for us to end things here, Tooru...”

Oikawa’s fingers tightened around the cell phone in his hand at the sound of your shakily delivered proposition, and further at the abrupt pregnant pause thereafter - not because he was angry, nor afraid, but out of an all-encompassing confusion.

Two things were wrong with this situation. First of all, it was late enough for you, thousands of miles away, that he was genuinely surprised that you were still awake in the first place and the fact that your voice was thick with tears was particularly upsetting, implying that you’d been up all night before you decided to call. Second, you had to be feeling unwell because you were talking pure nonsense.

He must have not heard correctly. You wanted to ‘end things’?

End what? You and him? That couldn’t possibly happen.

Moments passed, maybe even a full minute, and Oikawa stood perfectly still in spite of the uncomfortable combination of a weightless sensation in his legs and a feverish pounding in his chest as he tried to let himself understand what you were saying. Suddenly lightheaded, he realized he had been holding his breath while you remained quiet on the other end of the line. Maybe he was hoping for you to fill the silence, but he knew you wouldn’t offer anything additional; he could tell from the single soft sniffle that betrayed your sadness.

He sucked air into his lungs.

“I... don’t know what you mean,” Oikawa replied, his voice steady even if his body wasn’t.

You continued.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore. It’s really hard… and I get so lonely, and I know it’s wrong, but sometimes it hurts to see you so happy without me…”

Your voice was smaller still, enough that he strained to hear you past the rush of blood past his temples. For a moment, he considered pretending he couldn’t hear you say such unpleasant things just so that he wouldn’t have to deal with the reality unfolding in front of him in this disdainfully sunny early afternoon, while he stood in the middle of the hallway right outside of his high rise apartment.

The fact that you had finally given up on him after all this time.

In a small way, Oikawa couldn’t blame you. While he had been gone chasing his dream, the emerging star had just as quickly been running further away from you day by day. He knew this was mostly his fault: he called you less frequently and whenever you did talk, the conversations were shorter and less substantial until you and he both felt like your interactions were a simple chore, a checkbox on his never-ending to-do list.

But yet, he could and would absolutely blame you. Long distance was hard but you had promised you’d stay by his side, hadn’t you? You’d promised him, rain or shine, through drought and storm. What could possibly be the issue now?

Even if you hurt, it would only be temporary, and he could always make up for it in full or even twice-fold. In fact, he was on his way to come see you in person this very second; it would just be mere hours before his flight would depart. Coming suddenly on holiday like this was meant to be a surprise, and his suitcase beside him was filled with gifts and souvenirs for you that would, at least partially, assuage your hurt.

At least he thought. Maybe the issue stemmed deeper, starting with the very fact that you weren’t such a fan of gifts - what you really craved was loyalty and quality time - and that too, he had chosen to ignore. Because it was easier to love you the way he wanted to love you, rather than the way you wanted to be loved.

You were often indecisive anyway. Did you ever truly know what you wanted?

“___, stop being silly. I love you -”, he paused at this last declaration for emphasis, gauging your reaction, of which you gave him none, then continued, “-and I’m coming to see you before the sun sets tomorrow,” he insisted, a stern edge in his voice to further supplant the denial that was keeping him able to breathe. Strength returning to his limbs, he resumed his path to the elevators, dragging his belongings behind him.

You were silly. You missed him and you were delirious from loneliness and sleep, and that’s why ridiculous things were coming out of your mouth, that’s all it had to be, he figured. End things? What you had was something precious and irreplaceable. Nothing could be better than what you were together.

It would be you and him for life, at least to him.

Unfortunately for you, that ideal had long since perished.

Any other time, you would have paused, your breath hitching in your throat, your heart pounding as you conjured up the image of your Tooru coming to be in your arms once more, to cross the vast distance and be yours again as it should be. He’d be quick to show you that he chose you over crowded gyms full of adoring spectators, a perfect set, the rush of victory, or a pretty Instagram model.

Any other time before, but time had run out with both you and him unsuspecting, in a flash of clear blue eyes.

---

A few months earlier...

“I’m not interested.”

Your voice was flat and so was your expression. Muttering a soft ‘excuse me’, you walked past the tall young man who had taken the fact that he’d helped you reach an item on the highest shelf (despite the fact that you were still somewhat tall, you still had struggled), as an invitation to follow you around the grocery store.

The stranger had started off indiscreetly at first, and you had to admit, when you’d passed him in the aisle, you had given him a double-take, and it wasn’t just because you were wondering how he could see the food before him with a black blindfold wrapped over his eyes, so you hadn’t thought too much of it. He was admittedly handsome - at least the lower part of his face was - and his relaxed voice and posture as he reached over and handed you your box of cereal reminded you just a smidge of your Tooru.

Your Tooru wouldn’t be caught in that nondescript dark ensemble, though.

Saying “thanks” and continuing on your merry way should have been enough. But instead, this same man had immediately started walking besides you as you pushed your cart as though he knew you, making comments about your groceries.

“I’m not particularly fond of eggs, but they’re a good source of protein.”

“You seem to have a sweet tooth, just like me!”

You probably should have been concerned about this man’s mental state, but he didn’t exactly seem harmful or delusional, just weird. But you were almost done with your shopping trip, and now he was in line with you with a single bag of chips in his hand, and it occurred to you for a while that this stranger might try to follow you home.

“Do you need something, sir?” You told him in exasperation.

He furrowed his eyebrows in mild confusion, still a smidge too close behind you and raised his bag of chips. “No, I’m fine.”

“Why are you following me?” You finally said, bolder than usual in this semi-crowded grocery store. You had had enough of being polite and you’d tried very hard so far. Today had been a long day and you just wanted to cook a meal and sleep, not argue with strangers.

“Oh, I was trying to be friendly,” he replied, shrugging, as though that were normal behavior, and thus here you were, switching lanes abruptly while making it clear to him that he needed to leave you the fuck alone.

Checking out of the store with your items occurred without incident but you had to admit you were both irritated and confused about that encounter, and again, while you didn’t exactly feel malicious intent or really any sort of ‘creepiness’ from the young man, the behavior was nevertheless alarming. You surreptitiously glanced over your shoulder just to make sure he wasn’t still in sight, only to catch him walking in the other direction, whistling again with the single bag of chips in his hand, now paid for.

Again stunned, you found yourself lost in a stare for a moment, a million questions in your head.

What was he trying to accomplish? And most importantly, how could he see with that blindfold?

What did he look like without it?

Quickly realizing your questions were getting absurd, you decided that whether he was attractive or not was a completely inconsequential thought, because the fact of the matter was that he had to be clinically insane. Absolutely.

With that thought in mind, you texted a friend briefly sparing the least salient details.

Call me in about thirty minutes if I don’t call you first. I’ll fill you in later.

Just for safety’s sake, but thankfully, you didn’t think you’d ever seen him again.

You may have brought up your odd encounter to Tooru that night, if he had managed to return your call.

---

“Go to sleep, I’ll talk to you when I land tomorrow. I love you, ____.”

Before you could protest, the line cut off abruptly and you lowered your phone to your lap. Now it was no longer just your voice wavering, but your entire body trembling as you sat over the side of your bed. You lurched forward, the pit of your stomach heavy with guilt.

Your Tooru was coming to see you and for once, he was the last person you wanted to see.

---

You had left your home a little later than usual but given that you would rather die than miss your morning coffee and croissant, you still stopped by your neighborhood bakery.

Noting that the line was a little longer than expected, you queued up, humming softly to the beats of your favorite song, not registering that the man standing before you had turned slowly in your direction and was now smiling down at you.

“Fancy seeing you here again.”

Your eyes furrowed as you looked up, then almost yelped in surprise when your eyes registered the same white-haired stranger who had stunned you at the supermarket lined up just two paces before you.

What the-

Of all the coffee shops in this city, why here? The hairs on your neck stood up on end, worse when he decided to keep speaking.

“Let me buy your coffee,” he proposed, tentatively. “Only condition is that you have to drink it with me.”

Today, the strangest of strangers almost looked normal; rather than a blindfold, his eyes were hidden by a dark pair of sunglasses and his hair had been allowed to fall into a slightly windswept cut. He was also dressed less eclectically, in a loose-necked long sleeved shirt and a pair of fitted dark jeans.

Like this, you could call him fashionable. He was definitely forward, at the very least.

He was obviously flirting and normally you would have a curt prepared answer for him, but the manner in which he leaned forward, smirking with hands on his hips, again felt too familiar. Like Tooru, who had forgotten to call you back and instead sent you a quick text that promised he’d get back to you.

If he remembered.

Before you knew it, and almost embarrassed as soon as it left your mouth, you blurted out, “I… have to go to work.”

It wasn’t a lie but for some reason it came out like one. Perhaps because what you would have normally said was, “I have a boyfriend,” without giving him a second look.

He frowned nevertheless.

“That’s too bad,” he finally said, letting out a loud sigh, excessively dramatic for the situation. You stared at him, dumbfounded, and he suddenly clasped his hands together, preparing to say something else but the barista had called for the next customer.

He made a motion for you to go before him, and flustered, you obliged, giving the barista a look that implored for help in any way he could offer it. The barista knew you well enough to ring up your order before you even asked for it, but not well enough to sense that the man behind you was actively harassing you.

“I can buy my own coffee, sir,” you murmured once you saw him rummage in his pockets and pull out his wallet while the barista went off to toast your pastry.

He grinned widely.

“Call me Satoru.”

---

“A drink for you, sir?”

The flight attendant’s voice betrayed a hint of irritation under her sweet tone of voice, hinting that she had been waiting for him to answer a while, and Oikawa realized that he had been staring at his phone for a lot longer than he expected. He flashed her his classic pearly whites before nodding, but the wheels in his head were still turning.

A mere couple of hours into the first leg of his flight back to Japan, he had taken to poring over his last few conversations with you.

Conversations that, at least from his end, had become pressured, short, and at times, he had been downright dismissive.

But he loved you - you had to understand that! It was a lot to manage: being available for you but also giving 150% of himself to the game.

So what if he missed your calls but kept his Instagram up-to-date? So what if he was a little bit too cozy with his fans (and known to be so)?

There was always you, and you were supreme. He’d do anything for you.

“Wine?” The attendant offered him the higher octave in her voice making it clear that Oikawa had managed to charm her back into her retail persona.

Maybe a glass, but he’d limit his drinking. He wouldn’t want to disappoint you when you met.

---

You were shocked.

Satoru stopped a car that was meant to crush you, and you were still trying desperately to comprehend what had just transpired.

You were possibly too eager to escape that coffee shop, to get away from the young man whose presence both unsettled your stomach and made your face grown warm, that you’d hurried out into the crosswalk, somewhat complicated drink and slightly crisped pastry in hand, and right into the path of a car hurtling through a red light.

You didn’t have time to scream or rarely even time to drop your drink, but the impact of your carelessness and preoccupation, between him, being late to work, wondering why the fuck your boyfriend had yet again forgotten to text back, never came.

Instead, the car seemed to halt to a stop almost immediately before you, before him who now stood before you with lips held into a neutral expression, and one hand in his pocket. Even if time seemed to stop for a split second, the force that should have struck your body didn’t, instead hurtling around you in a terrifying gust of wind.

But you were safe.

There was a shatter of glass windows as energy redistributed and the car took the brunt of the shock, and airbags deployed, engulfing the driver who could have possibly ended your life.

When Satoru finally turned to you slowly, looking at your cowering form, you finally caught a glimpse of piercing blue. For once he wasn’t smiling, and he was suddenly much more terrifying than anything else.

As though the mask had come off.

He didn’t ask if you were okay. Instead, he asked you to control your grief.

---

You shouldn’t be able to love anyone so much that your heart breaks repeatedly.

Something about you had to be pathological - it couldn’t be normal to feel the pain of separation this acutely. It was just a long-distance relationship, even if he was just getting more famous and less available by the day.

You shouldn’t wake up wondering if you could still breathe without him.

You shouldn’t.

---

“I’m a sorcerer,” Gojo revealed as he stirred a warm caramel latte, as though he had said the most natural thing in the world.

You tilted your head over so slightly, knit eyebrows betraying your confusion.

“... Like a circus performer?”

The repetitive turn of his wrist halted almost immediately and he looked at you, the constant smug smirk immediately awash from his features.

“Do I look like I belong in the circus?!” He half-exclaimed, half-whined, as though you were the only patrons in this bustling coffee shop. Part of you was bent on saying yes, but you kept mum yet staring at his face in distress, you find yourself stifling a giggle.

Now that he’d saved your life, you felt (and probably erroneously so) obligated to at least indulge him in coffee, and your curiosity about the young man sitting before you a whole day later now waffled between morbid and genuine.

Cursed energy? Leaking from you? Sorcery?

He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair once he realized you were more entertained by his distress than anything else, crossing his arms and raising his legs on the table. You stared at the bottom of his shoes with mild disgust but instead focused on his face.

He really was like your Tooru, the boyfriend that slipped away from your reach in your nightmares, causing you to wake in a cold sweat. You shook the thought of your head, a quick barely perceptible movement, and crossed your own arms.

“You’re sad enough that I can sense it, which despite the fact that I am obviously quite gifted, can be a bit of an issue long term.”

“Why would it be an issue to you?”

“Because grief creates spirits and spirits are a pain in my ass.”

You furrowed your eyebrows again.

“So you followed me because you thought I was sad?” It sounded far fetched enough but absolutely on brand for a weirdo like the man before you. You took a sip of your tea - you’d picked chai for this… meeting. It wasn’t a date.

He grinned, an elbow rested on the table propping up his chin as he leaned back towards you.

“No, it’s because I thought you were beautiful.” ---

For the first time in a year, Oikawa’s first step back on Japanese soil did not immediately bring him joy but anxiety.

It was odd for him to feel anxiety, this unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach, but of course it would dissipate the moment he saw you.

But first, a warm shower in his new hotel room. Then he’d go to see you.

It felt odd not to have you waiting for him, your million dollar - no, priceless - smile on your face, so he could kiss you dramatically in the midst of all watching to again reassert that you are his, and his alone.

But you were upset, and understandably so.

So he would come to you, as a good boyfriend should.

---

“I have a boyfriend,” you told him immediately and indignantly, as you got up to leave. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you I’m not interested.”

He didn’t rise as fast as you did, watching you calmly instead as you balled your fists in irritation. It’s so shameless how he flirts, you thought. He’s so bold and rude and even if he’s a ‘sorcerer’ as he claims, there’s no spell that he can cast onto you that will make you leave Oikawa for him.

Not your Tooru, whose last Instagram post features a beautiful, tan, large-breasted and bikini-clad woman you’ve never met.

“Where is he then?” Satoru said in a low voice. He didn’t necessarily mean to cut but it did anyway. A lump formed in your throat.

“Overseas.”

---

The sound of chirping crickets is surprisingly loud for this part of the city, Oikawa considered, as he made his way towards your apartment building. It was an atypically warm evening for this point in the spring and he briefly mused if that is what excited them. Maybe they were cheering for him. They sounded a lot like the crowds if he closed his eyes.

He also hoped you had room for the gifts he carried with him, the most important of which was a Cartier bracelet he would hand to you once he departed, with a solid gold T for Tooru.

If he was on the search for fame and glory, he had to spoil you too, right?

To think that you were so angry with him that you had not yet contacted him since he had landed.

He knocked on your door finally, noting the shuffling of too many feet towards the door. This was the right door. He didn’t understand. Did you have friends over?

He called, and you didn’t immediately pick up.

---

“You have to leave!” You hissed. The statement was a plea and it was a command and it was a curse.

The blue of Satoru’s eyes was less electric in the dim moonlight, now more of a cool ice. Bare naked like this and barely visible save for the cracks of the illuminated city through your blinds, he was unfairly beautiful, as though he were carved out of marble. Again like your Tooru. Like, not better.

But still, he was there when Tooru wasn’t.

But Tooru was there now, knocking on your door, having traveled thousands of miles despite the fact that you had broken up with him just yesterday.

It was too little, too late.

But you didn’t love Satoru. He was just a band-aid for the loneliness that wrung agony out of you.

Right?

“I don’t want to leave,” your makeshift lover replied, flatly.

Your glare was sharp and instant, but Satoru matched your look, less pointed but unwilling to sway.

An unstoppable force, no different from the day he’d saved your life.

But he’d caused the problem in the first place, hadn’t he? Would you have run out so carelessly if not for him?

Your voice softened as you slipped on your clothes. The fight was lost before it started.

“Please? I… I can’t do this to him.”

Only a plea was left.

Your phone started to ring and your throat felt as though it would close up.

“___?”

Before you knew it, you heard your front door open and your heart dropped into your throat.

---

“What the fuck-”

Blue eyes were cruel.

Oikawa prided himself on his height but Satoru was taller, and his smirk was wide, while Oikawa’s face was ghostlike, devoid of any appreciable expression. Stunned.

“So you’re the boyfriend?” His voice dripped with mock amusement and he patted him on the shoulder before swinging open the door wide, letting Oikawa into his own girlfriend’s apartment, only to stand face to face with you whose feet seemed glued to the floor in shock.

“I.. T-Tooru..”

“Are you fucking serious?!”

His voice came out as a cry and his tears hot and fast. You never thought you’d see him crumple so fast, for you, for anything.

Your mouth opened and closed, and your hands shook but again, you stayed planted to the same spot while Satoru, still shirtless (but at least with the decency to have worn a pair of pants before answering the door), settled himself on the couch.

Before you could open your mouth to find a word to defend yourself to your sobbing boyfriend, your visitor let out an exaggerated yelp.

“____, you really showed no mercy on my asshole, did you?” he jeered. Then covering his mouth, he made a gesture of ‘Oops.’

What could you do?

Oikawa looked like he would stop breathing any second. He wanted to fight and maybe scream, but what use was that?

You had broken up with him yesterday.

You approached slowly, attempting maybe a touch, anything that would make your mistake less grievous.

You’d only been seeing Satoru for several weeks to… you weren’t sure why, really? Tooru was the one you loved. And to see him curl up like this… someone who was normally so proud...

You were disgusted with yourself.

“Tooru-”

“You said you’d wait for me.”

It was shocking how quick he rose, broken dignity, gifts and all.

“Tooru!”

He turned to leave, while Satoru contented himself on picking the earwax from his ears. It was easier to be like this, insufferable, than to gracefully accept the idea that his object of affection loved someone else.

He’d coveted you from the day he’d met you.

“Tooru!!!”

You were running after a man who gave 150% to everything, yet again.

Everything but you.

But had he at the very least given you 100%? You weren’t sure.

Oikawa was the last person who could accept the thought of someone else. You weren’t sure if he’d call you ever again. You weren’t even sure you wanted to break up.

Cursed energy. Maybe you didn’t just leak cursed energy. Maybe you were just cursed.

Heart shattering to pieces once Oikawa was no longer within view, you made it back to your room. Satoru was there waiting, and you couldn’t see the look in his eyes, but his arms were open, and so you fell into them.

#oikawa x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #commission work #crossover fic #haikyuu x reader #jjk x reader #haikyuu x jjk #mae.writing

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mobagehelllewds · 3 years

Text

“are you not the king to my queen?”

commissioned by @r0setarts

A/N: AH YES THE FIRST STEP TO MY PEGGING AGENDA! THANK YOU SO MUCH R0SETARTS FOR COMMISSIONING ME! I had so much fun writing this hahha, and I hope it satisfies everyone else too! Speaking of which, Malleus with Aymeric-like earrings is really a hot thought ngl.

all characters featured are depicted as 18+

warning: explicit content below cut–nsfw. double dicks. fingering. unprotected sex. pegging (malleus receiving). degradation (malleus receiving). begging (malleus doing). dacryphilia (malleus crying).

You couldn’t help the adoring smile on your lips as you watched the way Malleus lounged languidly across his throne—the picture of perfect ease—as he studied his royal advisors with viridescent green eyes. His long, dark hair spilled down to his waist and off his throne—nearly blending in with his dark robes. As he leaned forward attentively—his golden crown and cuffed earrings winked in the low light of the throne room.

‘That’s my husband.’ You thought, still in awe—despite the months that had passed since your marriage. ‘I married Malleus Draconia.’ Who would’ve thought—a nobody like you could catch the eye of such a sinfully beautiful and powerful man? Who would’ve thought—that you would hold his utter devotion in turn?

‘Sometimes it still feels like I’ll wake up from such a sweet dream.’ You thought, as you leaned yourself onto one of the nearby pillars—just at the edge of your husband’s periphery. It was one of your greatest fears but—

Malleus caught sight of you—and his whole countenance shifted. He raised a hand and the room went silent. His gleaming eyes are on you, his lips curled in pleasure.

“I believe that will be enough for tonight.” His voice pierced the sudden hush, “Lilia, Silver, Sebek… If you please...” He waved dismissively. At his command, his knights slid quietly out of the shadows to do exactly that. Lilia appeared at Malleus’s side, and he shot you a cheeky little wink. As the knights escorted the advisors away, Malleus beckoned for you to draw closer. Once the room was clear and you were close enough, he pulled you into his lap. He quickly curled his fingers around the back of your neck to pull you in for a kiss.

The kiss robbed you of your breath, his canines dragged across your lower lip—before his long tongue slipped into your mouth to dance with your own. Your fingers tangled in his hair and your eyes fluttered close. You let out a muffled moan as he pulled you closer against him—your body pressed up against his incredibly toned form.

One of your greatest fears was waking from this sweet dream, but Malleus’s kisses always grounded you—held you—reminded you that this was your reality.

Whenever he kissed you like this, your heart filled with love—for him—and with confidence, of the role you play.

“My bright light.” He pulled away from the kiss to nuzzle the crook of your neck. You felt his whole body hitch and relax as he inhaled your scent. “Why have you come to the throne room? I thought you had retired to our chambers…”

“Yes… but,” you paused as you nuzzled him in turn. You let out a soft, pleased sigh as his scent of dried wildflowers enveloped you. “I’ve come to fetch my husband—the bed is so cold without you, my King.” You teased lightly and he chuckled—his hot breath puffed against your collarbone.

“I have kept my beloved waiting.” He leaned back, eyes shimmered with amusement. “I suppose I will have to apologize. What does my Queen have in store for me?” You twirled his long locks around your fingers and looked up at him with a mischievous glitter in your eyes…

“I think I have an idea.”

—

Your lubed fingers slipped again into Malleus’s tight hole. As your fingers scissored—he hissed beneath you—his back tensed revealing his toned muscles. You could feel your throat dry as with every thrust of your fingers—his gasps grew more erotic. When you looked up, you felt yourself leak at the sight of his expression in the mirror across you. His eyes were hazy and his mouth hung open in pleasure. His arm muscles were clenched, and his fingers had already clawed through some of his sheets. Your other hand reached down and you grasped onto one of his cocks. You let out an involuntary moan as you felt him practically throb in your hold.

“You like that, don’t you my King?” You peppered the length of his back with kisses, your tongue occasionally darted out to lick his sweat. “You’re taking my fingers so well.” You spread your fingers again, and he shuddered beneath you—his cocks twitched against your palm. You flicked your fingers against the tips—and he keened beneath you, as he pressed himself further into your touch.

Oh. Did it thrill you to have so much power over him… It brought you so much confidence that such a being lay weak to your ministrations…

“Beloved,” he groaned, “if you’re going to do it—do it now.”

“Are you sure you’re ready?” You couldn’t help but draw out, as you slowly pulled your fingers out. “I think I can do this for longer~” He hissed at the teasing lilt in your voice—you saw his eyes flash in the mirror, his magic swelled for a moment—before his irritation slipped back to pleasure at the way your fingers quickly delved back into his hole.

He was putty in your hands.

There was no one in all of his existence—and there will be no one ever, in his future—that could outshine his deep devotion and adoration to you. There was no one he would ever be this weak for.

He relished in this—that for once—nobody looked at him and expected anything of him. You never had any expectations for him.

All you ever wanted—all he ever wanted—was a companionship filled with nothing but genuine pleasure shared between two people.

“I wonder how the people would react, when they see their King so debased at his partner’s touches.” You can’t help but tease, the tips of Malleus’s ears glowed red in slight embarrassment. A giggle slipped out of your lips as you twisted your fingers and he shuddered again.

“My bright light...” He moaned at your every move, “... please.”

“You’re so beautiful my King~ Everyone would covet the sight of you so weak beneath them… but it’s a sight that belongs only to me.” He let out a groan—you were as possessive of him as he was to you, and his heart pounded even more… His eyes flickered upward, to take in the sight of you above him.

“My Queen.” His breath is shaky, his cocks are so hard—they’re curved and pressed insistently onto his abdomen. He hissed whenever your fingers teased the tips… “Please.”

“I suppose I can’t refuse my King.”

You settled your length up against the entrance and he whimpered beneath you—hips pushed insistently against it, his cocks twitched rapidly against your hand. As the length slid into his quivering hole—his moan is long, breathless—and he slackened beneath you. Another glance at the mirror showed you his eyes had fallen shut, his mouth open—lips wet, and glistened in the light. With every slow drag of your length, his teeth would pull back to show his gritted teeth. His lashes would untangle as his dazed eyes opened…

Once your pace picked up—you could hear the tell-tale sounds of him as he ripped through some of the blankets beneath both of you. His moans turned into drawn out groans as he moved his hips and pushed back to take your length back in ever deeper.

“Look at your face beloved.” you whispered—voice loud against the squelching noises that permeated in the room. “You make quite a beautiful face beneath me.”

Malleus sees the way his eyes are wet with tears from pleasure, drool as it slipped out of his mouth unconsciously and he gritted his teeth in an attempt to stop it… Except the quick drag of your length inside of him distracted him—and he’s back to being a pathetic mess on the bed. His groans pitched as your fingers traced the veins on his cocks, then teased the very tips—before you began to yank your hand roughly against the full length. You timed it with every thrust of your hips against his. The loud sound of wet skins slapping against each other filled and echoed throughout the room alongside Malleus’s growls before—

“Beloved—no—” Malleus’s hole tightened frantically around your length as your pace slowed before you completely pulled out. The tip teased his puckered entrance—gently pushing him open before pulling back before he could swallow it’s girth. Malleus whined, his eyes desperately met yours—needy, he was so needy. He needed you to push him over the edge but—

“I think I’ll have you beg for it, my love.” You whispered, ever so gently—as you took pleasure in the way his arms shook, and his hips pushed back almost desperately. Tears that had gathered at the corners of his eyes flickered in the light and caught itself in his long lashes. His teeth dug into his lower lip.

Asking a King to beg—a part of him was greatly indignant of doing such an action. Had it been anyone else, he would’ve smote them upon such a grave suggestion however—it was you and oh, he was in desperate need to cum.

“Please.” Malleus practically whimpered, “Please my love. Please make me come—please I need—it—I love you so much—I need this so badly—”

“Oh darling,” your tone was coy—sweet, “What would your people think…? Seeing their noble, powerful King begging for his Queen like this? You might lose all that respect…”

His beloved was truly pushing him—but his needy keens grew louder as he felt your tip trace the slope of his ass, the rim of his hole and he—

“I don’t care!” his voice was a desperate growl, “Beloved—please—give it to me—” His words stuttered into a drawn out moan as you sheathed your full length in one thrust. You relished in the way he tightened around you, the way he clutched you deep within him.

You felt his cocks twitch frantically against your hand. Malleus’s head ducked down—more dark hair spilled from over his shoulder—onto the bed, pooling messily around him. Your hand began to move again—faster—rougher, with your other hand quickly joining to properly stimulate his other one.

Beneath you, Malleus stiffened completely before ropes of cum shot out of his dicks. His whole body shook as his cum scattered onto the bedding, his ass cheeks clamped tightly around your length. You continued to slowly rub his cocks as he came. His eyes had slipped open and they were a complete haze, no awareness in them.

After a breath, you pulled out your length to help him turn to his back. You leant down and pressed kisses against the slope of his neck as he caught his breath. You could feel his pulse thrum against your lips—the rhythm unsteady as he gulped in air. His hazy eyes turned to you, his blinks slow as he reached up to tuck your hair behind your ear. There’s a moment of still silence—his eyes beheld you with adoration before—

“Ahn—!”

You let out a moan as Malleus tugged you forward. He made you straddle him and your pitched noises came from feeling the way the heads of his cocks twitched eagerly up against your leaking core. He pushed himself up to nip and bite against your collarbones. His breath is heavy as he thrusted his hips lightly, his cock heads rubbed at your entrance and pushed it open ever so slightly. It was your turn to whine in anticipation and Malleus’s chuckle was dark.

“Now then—I believe it is your turn, my beloved.”

#aithirsts #aiwrites #aiscenarios #twisted wonderland #twst scenarios #twst #twst malleus

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90gemini · 3 years

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Falling Up 🌇 Steve Rogers x Reader AU

Summary: A meet cute on a morning train between pediatric intern Steve and reader.

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: big crowds, just too much fluff ngl

A/N: hope this makes you smile, i really love this AU, might be a part 1 of a whole series:)

Every single morning, as if on cue, approximately two minutes before my train leaves the station near my apartment, I come to the realization that if I do not get into full sprint mode right that second, I will miss my train and then be late to my first class and then have to walk in embarrassed while everyone is already inside and then proceed to feel embarrassed over it the entire day. So, considering the fact that I never seem to make myself leave the house just a few minutes early, for the past three years that I have been going to college, almost every morning I run into the train the last moment before the doors close completely out of breath, and have to subtly work on composing myself much longer than I am comfortable to admit.

Yet today, without even realizing, I got out of my apartment solid seven minutes earlier than usual. My roommate and I were so engaged in our conversation about the events of last nights party so we walked out together still invested in the drama which left me pleasantly surprised with the time I was left to spend before my train leaves after we went our separate ways. The extra time opened a whole lot of opportunities for me, almost made me believe I should wake up earlier every morning and not leave for class at the last possible moment. So, with the 420 extra seconds I got today, I managed to actually dig my earphones out my bag, plug them in and wait for the train with the sounds of my morning playlist filling my mind.

Inside the train, when I wasn’t preoccupied by catching my breath but also, even more importantly, focusing on not making it too obvious I was out of my breath, I became very much aware of my surroundings, noticing everything and everyone around me.

There was a girl sitting down right across from where I was standing, she looked about my age and she held a little baby in her arms, slowly rocking it and I noticed the way she was looking totally spent but the moment her baby made this cute laughing sound, a smile spread on her face completely overshadowing the exhaustion in her eyes. Next to the door was an older woman not so subtly judging everyone who was sitting down and has not offered her to sit and right next to the door was a man sitting down and sleeping like a log. I had the urge to wake him up and ask him when he has to get down or if he has already missed his stop, but in all honesty, it was too early in the morning for me to be considerate like that. While continuing to carelessly look around, my eyes landed on something that opened drawers in my memory I did not even know existed.

It was a book cover. A simple white background featuring a boy with frizzy hair who was flying over a drawn-on city with the words ‘Falling Up’ in the middle. So many moments of my dad reading poems from that book to me before bed when I was a kid came up and instantly forced a smile on my face.

In my head, I started reciting the words to my favorite poem from that book, remembering my dad teaching me how to read with those poems when my eyes fell on the arm holding the book and the man attached to it.

And God, was I thankful for the boosted-up heating in the train this morning because that made him take off his leather jacket and throw it over his arm, leaving only a thin, too tight white shirt to cover his upper body and it worked amazing for me that the shirt wasn’t doing its job well.

I heard the sound of the door opening and saw way too many people try to make their way into the train making it way more crowded which pushed the mystery man to move closer to me. Not as close as I wanted though.

My mind was focused solely on him that at one point I wasn’t even aware what station we were at and have I maybe missed mine, but I found myself not caring at all. The point my eyes landed on his face I was basically addicted. His hair was a gorgeous mess, a bit outgrown but looking so good. And, oh my God, his eyes. I was so upset I am only seeing them under the fluorescent light of the subway because I am positive that it would be an out of body experience seeing them under the sunlight.

At that moment I was sure he was the most beautiful man I have ever laid my eyes on and was already cursing myself because I knew I was too nervous to talk to him and will regret that forever.

His lips would occasionally move into a small, barely noticeable grin while he was reading and every once in a while, his tongue would go over his lips leaving them all full and glistening which led to a whole new set of unholy thoughts entering my brain. And his fingers, the way he flipped over the pages was just so-

‘’May I help you somehow?’’ I was snapped out of my trance by his voice and met his eyes that were looking into mine with the coldest, most unimpressed expression as if he was in front of the most annoying person to ever grace the Earth.

‘’Shit, sorry,’’ I apologized quietly and pulled out one earphone to hear him better because no matter how rude it looks he is going to be right now, his voice was just heavenly. ‘’I zoned out when I saw that book.’’ I pointed to the book in his hand and his eyes followed the direction my finger was showing as if he was surprised I wasn’t staring at him but at the book. I was most definitely staring at him though, but I don’t plan on revealing that. ‘’My dad used to read it to me when I was a kid so just seeing the cover brought back too many memories. Sorry.’’ I said in a soft voice and gave him a forced smile hoping he was not going to talk to me again because I really don’t want to be yelled at by the most attractive man alive at 7.23am on a Tuesday in the subway.

‘’You know this book?’’ his voice broke the short-lived silence between us, making my head snap up to look at him again and I was met with a much softer face adorning an adorable smile. ‘’You must think I’m so weird for reading poetry for children.’’ He let out a small laugh which was, without exaggeration, the greatest sound I have ever heard in my life.

‘’No, I think it’s cute.’’ A sly smirk found its way on my face as I felt my usual confidence come back now that I knew he wasn’t planning on yelling at me.

‘’So, you think I’m cute?’’ The smirk on his lips, on the other hand, was not as subtle as mine was as he turned more towards me, quickly closing the book and focusing his eyes on my face.

‘’I didn’t say one thing about you being cute, I was talking about the book.’’ I lied to keep my cool even though cute truly wasn’t the first word that came to my mind when looking at him. It would be something more in the neighborhood of I-would-drop-on-my-knees-for-you-right-this-momentor whatever.

‘’Okay, so you don’t think I am cute?’’ he leaned closer and licked his lips instantly sending shivers down my spine. This man is too much for me to handle right now.‘’Because I think you are really cute.’’ He whispered loudly enough only for me to hear and moved away a bit to fully appreciate my flustered expression because he obviously was aware of the exact effect he had on me.

‘’Well, I guess you aren’t that bad yourself.’’ The fact that I was not literally falling apart in front of this god cosplaying as a man is still not something I can understand. ‘’And thank you.’’ Saying that my voice got super quiet, and I could see him grin proudly at my reaction.

‘’You are welcome,’’ he didn’t finish that sentence and looked at me asking for my name.

‘’Y/n.’’

‘’Y/n.’’ he repeated and stepped closer to me with an excuse of letting someone else pass and giving them space. ‘’That is a real pretty name.’’ I smiled to say thank you and looked at my feet for a second to get myself together.

I didn’t even run to catch this train yet I’m still out of breath.

‘’I am Steve by the way.’’ He stretched out his free hand in my direction but not for one second broke the eye contact between us. ‘’It’s so nice to meet you, Y/n.’’ God, just to hear him say my name was killing me.

‘’Nice to meet you too, Steve.’’ I connected my hand with his much larger one and was painfully aware of the fact he must have heard the soft sound I made the second my skin first touched his.

‘’So,’’ he continued while slowly pulling his hand from mine. ‘’do you like poetry in general, ‘’he lifted the arm with the book and nodded towards it. ‘’or is it just this one book you like?’’ he asked with so much interest in his voice making me absolutely thrilled he was keeping the conversation going.

‘’I love poetry.’’ I kept my answer short because forming decent sentences was a though job while looking at this man and seeing the way he was looking at me.

‘’What kind?’’ he adjusted in his spot somehow that he was even closer to me, leaving basically no space between us, yet to everyone else it seemed normal because the morning rush in the New York City subway never was famous for the spaciousness.

‘’About love.’’ I said softly and witnessed his expression changing from the cocky, overconfident one he had on, to a completely soft one.

‘’Same here.’’ He replied and as if he can do it on cue, looked even more deeply into my eyes. ‘’I like reading about how people feel things I have never felt, it lets me to feel the emotion without risking being hurt.’’ He confessed to me and I couldn’t believe a guy that has such a hard exterior is ready to share that much emotion after talking to a stranger in a train for only a few minutes. But I was thanking all the gods he was.

‘’That’s much deeper than my reason for loving it.’’ A small smile appeared on his face as he looked at me to continue. ‘’I just like reading about love and watching movies about love and basically everything about love. Makes me feel all warm around the heart.’’ He let out a small laugh reminding me why it’s my new favorite sound. ‘’That must sound so cheesy.’’

‘’I don’t think it’s cheesy. I think like it is really nice to love love.’’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘’It’s cute.’’

‘’So you are calling me cute?’’ I looked at him with a raised eyebrow as he let out a huff once again leaning all into my personal space.

‘’I am. I have once before too.’’ He whispered near my ear and I know he knew just what he was doing to me.

‘’What poets do you like the most?’’ he moved away leaving me upset over not feeling his breath on my neck anymore.

‘’I don’t read a lot in English.’’ I fumbled with the edge of my jacket and lowered my eyes to focus on my boots because his face was way too distracting. ‘’My dad is not from here and I got the gene for loving poetry from him so most of the things I read are in his mother tongue because it’s really the only way to keep myself from forgetting it.‘’ Making a mental note to call my dad tonight because it’s been too long, I suddenly became extremely aware that I am sharing so many personal information about me with a random man I met on the subway. ‘’So yeah, most of the poets I read, never got international fame so you unfortunately didn’t have a chance to hear of them.’’ I felt a dash of electricity go through my body when he put his hand under my chin tilting it up so we can once again face each other.

‘’Don’t hide that gorgeous face doll.’’ Dear Lord, I can’t believe I might actually die on a train because of a hot, poetry reading guy. ‘’I’d love to read some of that poetry you like if it is translated.’’

‘’I don’t know if any of it is translated but you can check, I can write down some of the names for you.’’ I said quickly really happy that he wants to read something I will recommend, still recovering from that ‘gorgeous’ comment.

‘’I don’t have anything you can write it on, we can just-‘’

‘’Oh, I have a piece of paper to write it on to, it’s no problem.’’ I interrupted him while flashing him another smile and started digging through my bag for pen and a paper only to have his hand stop mine making me look at him with confusion written all over my face.

‘’I was thinking something more in the lines of you writing your number in my phone,’’ he took his phone out his pocket and directed it at me. ‘’then I can text you and we can meet up so you can tell me more about those poets and maybe translate some for me on the spot if you want to.’’ The smile was evident on his face when I took the phone out his hand and started writing my number into it.

‘’I would really like that, Steve.’’ I gave him his phone back with a smile a bit too big for the cool persona I was trying to present myself as.

‘’Well, I am really looking forward to it, Y/n.’’ he returned the big smile and focused his eyes on my face once again.

‘’Can I ask you something?’’ I looked at him curiously.

‘’Anything, doll.’’

That nickname is going to kill me.

‘’How come you are reading poetry for children?’’ he left out a chuckle and gazed over the book in his hand.

‘’There are two reasons, actually.’’ He shifted from one leg to another and started talking kind of nervously. ‘’Firstly, this book is something I always come back to for some reason. My grandma bought it for me when I was just a kid and I reread it for too many times, so I always go back to it because it’s safe. Something like playing Friends in the background because there is nothing else to watch but it always makes you feel good, you know?’’ I nodded and he continued. ‘’Second is that currently I am interning at the pediatric wing at the hospital downtown and kids love me reading these poems to them so I always find a few I think they would like the most when I am getting to work in the morning.’’

‘’That is really amazing, Steve.’’ I put my hand on his forearm and looked at him with so much affection in my eyes. ‘’Those kids must feel really special having you read to them, it’s really heartwarming you do that even though you don’t have to.’’

‘’They are going through too much shit, if I can make it any better for them, I will.’’ How pathetic is it that talking about kids with this guy I met literally minutes ago, makes me think about having his kids?

‘’That is really too sweet.’’ I had plans on saying so much more to him, but I heard the automatic voice announce how my station is next. ‘’Shit I have to go; this is my stop.’’

‘’Oh.’’ He said and I swear I could hear some disappointment in his voice. ‘’I guess I will see you again?’’ he asked as if he is not sure if that is going to happen.

‘’You most definitely will see me again.’’ I looked at him fondly again and I don’t even know what force gave me the confidence to do so, but before making my way to the door I got on my tip toes and kissed his cheek.

‘’Bye, Steve. See you soon.’’ I said while walking away from him but still keeping my eyes on his as I saw him put his hand on the place I kissed him with a small smile on his face.

‘’See you soon, Y/n.’’ Was the last thing I heard before exiting the train, completely sure that I won’t be able to focus today in class.

But I don’t mind.

really hope you enjoyed this, any comment on it would truly mean a lot!<3

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fluff #doctor!steve #chris evans x reader #steve rogers imagine #chris evans imagine #steve rogers x you #chris evans fluff

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gukvante · 3 years

Text

the gym selfie

— pairing: namjoon x reader

— genre: slice of life, smut

— rating: nsfw

— words: 1.5k+

— note: ngl, this was completely self-indulgent and based off of this selfie namjoon posted :O also, a disclaimer, i do not own the picture of namjoon used in my banner. happy reading further <3

— warnings: explicit/detailed sexual intercourse, dom!namjoon, sub!reader, daddy kink, cum eating, oral (m receiving), some good ol’ face fucking, some praise sprinkled with a little degrading, established relationship

— summary: Namjoon posts a gym selfie and it got you feeling some type of way.

masterlist

You huffed staring down at the last text you had sent Namjoon. No response. You had sent him a text asking if he wanted to meet up for lunch since you were in the area but to no avail.

You were about to give up hope of getting to go on a cute little lunch date with your boyfriend when your phone vibrated. It was a notification letting you know that Namjoon had just posted on Weverse.

You huffed in slight annoyance that he had time to post but not respond to your text messages.

Tapping on the notification to open the post, you watched as it loaded for a few seconds before you were met with the most delicious sight.

You eyes widened slightly, your jaw going slack. Namjoon had posted a picture, a workout picture to be precise. The sleeveless top he wore showed off his defined arms and strong shoulders.

It was like your hands had a mind of their own as you zoomed in further to closely inspect his long fingers. Something about the way he gripped the phone had your breath hitching.

You were snapped back into reality when someone accidentally bumped into you. It was only then that you remembered that you were standing in the middle of the sidewalk.

Quickly apologising to the stranger and wishing them a pleasant day further, you all but sprinted to sit on a nearby bench. You checked your surroundings again to make sure no one was watching you perv on your delectable boyfriend.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, somewhat preparing yourself. Once you felt you were ready to continue, your eyes snapped back to the screen. Heat spread across your cheeks as your eyes trailed lower.

Namjoon was sporting gym shorts that exposed a little bit of his muscular thighs. You frowned slightly when you realised the angle of the picture hid his bulge. Just as you were about to zoom in closer, your ringtone cut through the air.

Your face flushed as you read the caller ID, Namjoon. With shaky hands, you held the phone up to your ear. “H-Hello?” Your voice crocked.

“Hi, baby. Sorry for not answering your texts, I was working out.” Namjoon’s smooth voice seemed to send your body into overdrive. Rubbing your thighs together, you cleared your throat before answering.

“I-I know.” You stuttered. What was going on with you? You’ve seen him naked plenty of times, why was this one picture affecting you so much?

“Are you okay, princess? You sound a bit off.” Namjoon asked, his voice full of concern. Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves, you answered again.

“I’m fine! Just a bit . . . winded . . . I guess.” You fiddled with your fingers as you waited for his response.

“Well, I would love to grab some lunch with you. I just have to pack up a few things and take a quick shower. I should be done in the next twenty minutes or so.” You nodded in agreement, getting ready to hang up.

“Baby? You still there?” Namjoon asked, confused.

“Yes! Yes, I am. Sorry, I completely forgot we were on a phone call and nodded like a dumbass! You probably think I’m so–”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it. Are you sure you’re okay?” He questioned again, concerned something might have happened.

“Yes, I’m great! D-Don’t worry. I’ll see you soon?”

“I’ll see you soon, kitten.”

Hanging up, you let out a deep sigh before standing up and walking in the direction of BigHit.

Once you were inside the building, you hastily made your way up to the dressing rooms. Upon your arrival, you were met with Yoongi, who seemed to be on his way out.

“Yoongi! Hey! How are you?” You called, stopping him in his tracks.

“Ah, y/n! Can’t complain, you?” Yoongi smiled as he acknowledged you.

“I’m great! Thanks for asking. Do you perhaps know where I can find Namjoon?” You reached into your pocket, ready to pull your phone out to call him if Yoongi didn’t know where he was.

Yoongi nodded, pointing in the direction of the showers before turning to leave again. “It was nice seeing you, y/n. Enjoy your time with Joon!” Yoongi smirked over his shoulder as he walked out the room.

Your face erupted at the innuendo, shaking your head. Letting out another sigh, you moved to put your things down. Closing your eyes, you took one last deep breath before nodding and making your way into the shower room.

You could hear the water running and Namjoon humming softly to himself. Deciding not to announce your arrival, you slowly started removing your clothes.

You placed your clothes next to Namjoon’s before reaching out to pull back the shower curtain. Namjoon was quick to turn around in shock, almost slipping in the process.

“Baby? Geez, you scared me!” He chuckled. “What are you do–” it was only then that he realised that you were butt-naked. His eyes seemed to darken as they roamed over your body, taking in every dip and curve.

“Don’t worry about me, just stand back and enjoy.” You winked. Namjoon cocked his head to the side, his eyebrow raising.

Walking further into the shower, you slowly and carefully dropped to your knees. Pushing your hair from your face, you tilted your head to look him in the eye.

“Please let me suck your cock, daddy?” You pleaded, batting your eyelashes to seal the deal.

“Go ahead, kitten.” Namjoon said, his jaw clenching. Breaking eye contact, you came face to face with his girthy length.

Your mouth watered at the sight. He was fully erect, his tip a deep pink. Lifting a hand, you wrapped it around his base. Your fingers barely touched, your pussy fluttering from the realisation.

Learning forward, you placed soft kisses all over the underside of his cock. Namjoon huffed, glaring down at you and reached a hand out to grip your hair.

“Now, now, babygirl. Who said you could tease daddy?” He’s jaw was clenched in annoyance as he grinded his teeth together. You eyes widened at his serious expression.

“That’s what I thought. Now, be a good little cockslut and let daddy fuck your greedy throat.”

You let your mouth fall open in obedience, anything for Namjoon. His free hand dropped to replace yours at the base of his cock.

“Stick your tongue out, pretty girl.” Namjoon’s voice seemed to deepen and gain a certain raspiness to it.

Your tongue lolled out your mouth, completely submitting to him. Namjoon smirked before rubbing his tip against your tongue. “Suck.” He huffed. Complying, you wrapped your lips around his cockhead.

Namjoon let out a growl as he watched you suck on him while maintaining eye contact. He let suckle on him a little longer, his breathing becoming laboured.

“Daddy’s gonna fuck your throat now. Okay, angel?” On cue, he started steadily inching his fat cock down your throat. Breathing through your nose, you tried your best to relax your throat to allow him in further.

Namjoon let out a loud groan, throwing his head back. He pulled back slightly before thrusting back in again. He kept the slow pace for a minute or two before he reach down to lightly grip your throat while his other hand tightened its grip on your hair.

Drawing his hips back, he was quick to pick up the pace. Your eyes rolled back as his cock slid deeper with every thrust.

Tears started to form in your eyes as Namjoon continued to abuse your throat. He was panting now, his hips frantically chasing sweet release. Namjoon pulled out with a deep groan.

“You still good, baby?” He rasped. You nodded, taking a few deep breaths before moving to take him again. Namjoon all but growled.

He picked up right where he left off, leaning over slightly to reach even deeper down your throat. The room was filled with the sound of wet squelching and Namjoon’s deep groans.

Lifting a hand, you cupped his balls, squeezing gently. Namjoon moaned, his hips stuttering. “Keep doing that, kitten. ‘m so close.”

Adding more pressure, you continued to massage his balls. His thrusts becoming sloppier. Namjoon threw his head back as he moaned out your name.

“I’m gonna cum and you’re gonna swallow it like good little cumslut.” He growled out, his hips speeding up.

He pulled your head all the way to his base, placing a hand on either side of your face to hold your head in place. He let out one last groan before he emptied his load down your throat.

You tried your best to swallow like he instructed but it was too much and some of it dripped down your chin. Namjoon gently pulled out. He let out a satisfied sigh before staring down at you.

He reached down, wiping away a stray tear. He smiled sweetly, caressing your face. You leaned your head against his hand as you stared up at him lovingly.

“It’s your turn now, kitten.”

#kim namjoon kim namjoon smut sub!reader sub!reader x bts bts smut namjoon oneshot namjoon smut namjoon x reader kim namjoon x reader smut

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bre-meister · 3 years

Note

I need some pre married/family angst

this is early relationship so pre-family and pre-married Cleon. I hope it’s angsty enough I kind of got distracted while writing to fight a huge ass hornet in my room ( I was super terrified ngl). This was such a journey for me to write that I don’t even have an official title for it like I normally try to do lol. This has also taught me that I need to work on angst that is not “person A and Person B fight”. Sorry for the rant here's the actual work:

Claire was mad. No, Claire was beyond mad. Claire Redfield was absolutely furious. Her rage was so blinding that she couldn’t even be bothered to apologize to the nice looking doorman as she barreled through the lobby of the apartment building of the object of said anger. She was sorry - felt the apology in her bones as soon as the smaller man began to cringe and cower slightly in her presence - but again, her anger prevented it from passing her lips.

Secretly, she did take a little pride in the fact that, as she entered the elevator, a young-looking couple decided to “wait for the next one” instead of sharing with her. It gave her a little more time to stew in her anger - pulling from the depths of her soul, every time that she had said it was okay even when it wasn’t - before she came face to face with him.

“What the hell Leon!”

The door to his apartment opened with such force that if circumstances had been different, she would have been worried about possibly putting a hole in the wall. Alas, her attention was not on the wall, but instead on the man lying on the couch in front of her. Leon was clearly either drunk or hungover. Although considering what she’d heard from both her brother - half the reason she was here in the first place - there was a distinct possibility it could be both. Claire wasn’t sure that could actually happen, but if anyone could make it a thing it would most definitely be Leon S. Kennedy.

All that came out of his mouth was unintelligible garble mixed in with a few pained groans. Claire took pleasure in that for a moment and allowed it to further stoke the flames inside of her. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was about to do. She’d kind of just gone on autopilot after getting. Chris’s concerned texts. Apparently, Leon had been ghosting everyone over the last week. So, there she stood, upset and silent until Leon made the mistake of finally speaking real words.

“Red,”

Claire didn’t let him finish. She exploded,

“No! You don’t get to do that, you hear me? You don’t!”

Claire moved towards the couch and yanked off the blanket covering Leon with more force than was probably necessary. The blanket had apparently been completely wrapped around him and, in his current state, that was enough to cause him to tumble to the floor. He let out another grunt of pain as he landed but Claire didn’t care.

“Get your ass up.” Her voice had calmed, steadied to an even tone. Her anger no longer manifested itself in yelling, but instead as a low growl behind her words.

When he didn’t make any effort to move, she said it again,

“I’m not asking Leon. Get up.”

He finally did as told. Standing he slowly moved to the small kitchen behind the couch. There he found a glass that looked somewhat cleaned and began to fill it with water.

This wasn’t the first time that Claire had been there to pick up the pieces whenever Leon fell apart. Safe to say, those instances had never quite played out like this one and Leon was a little jarred and, admittedly, a little afraid of what the red-headed woman might do.

They stared at each other as Claire gave Leon a moment to swallow the little bit of water that was left in his glass. When he sat it in the sink and she remained silent he let his impaired brain convince him that meant he should speak.

“What’s your problem? Chris piss in your Wheaties this morning?”

The look on her face caused concern. The laugh that followed chilled him to the core. Leon S. Kennedy had faced down and won so many B.O.Ws that he had lost count but at that moment as he looked across the room at a laughing Claire Redfield, he knew that he had quite possibly signed his death warrant. He also knew that if this truly were how he died, several people would help her cover it up, and frankly, he couldn’t blame them.

“My problem?” she continued to laugh, “What’s my problem?”

Leon was getting a little nervous. In yet another mistake, he even let out a few nerve filled chuckles himself.

“No, you don’t get to laugh! This isn’t funny,” and yet she was still laughing.

Leon was not.

“Do you know why this isn’t funny? Because I don’t think you do.”

He couldn’t have answered even if he wanted to - Claire cut him off as soon as he opened his mouth to fumble through some bullshit excuse.

“You don’t. I know you don’t because if you did you would have had your ass at the restaurant last week, Leon!”

Leon felt his stomach drop. Oh no. He really had fucked up this time.

“Sherry’s birthday.” He felt more than heard the mumbled words slip past his lips.

“Ya, Sherry’s birthday,” Claire turned around to finally close the door and Leon took the opportunity to sit down in one of the few chairs at his tiny kitchen table.

“You know, I was okay with this when it was only me you were fucking over. I know I shouldn’t have been, but I was. I told myself over and over that it was fine, you needed this time, you needed me and I was more than happy to give it to you - everything. I give you everything! But it was okay because you were always there for me too. Most of the time at least. And I get it, Leon, hell I get it more than probably anyone else. What we went through was hell, no one should have to go through that once let alone as many times as you do. But I was there too, I have to deal with that shit too. Sherry has to deal with that shit. She was Twelve Leon.”

“I know -”

“Then where the fuck were you? This was all she wanted! All she asked for for her birthday was for all three of us to be there, together and you couldn’t even get your shit together enough to give that to her. No call, no text, not even a half-assed excuse just nothing. The hurt and disappointment on her face - I’ll never forget that Leon. And to top it off, I had to cover for you and as much as I love you,” she saw that way his whole body seized up at her words, “I’m tired. I refuse to do that anymore.”

“I’m sorry, Claire.”

Claire pulled at her hair which, for once, wasn’t in its usual ponytail.

“Stop! It’s always sorry with you. For once could you just stop!”

“Stop what? Tell me what I have to do to fix this.” He was desperate. He didn’t want to lose her or Sherry. The idea of that - of finally being completely and utterly alone - was almost too much to bear.

“For starters stop making promises if you know you can’t keep them. Stop overcommitting yourself. Stop overworking yourself because that’s always how you get this way in the first place. And stop looking like that.”

“Like what?” he was a little puzzled. He may have also been on the verge of tears but, if anyone asked later he would deny it vehemently.

“Like...like I just killed your puppy or - or like I’m taking away everything from you - it’s making it really hard to stay mad!”

In any other situation, he might have laughed at that but he had sobered up enough between when Claire had burst through his door and now. Now, he really did feel that Claire leaving here like this, Sherry being disappointed with him - that truly was as if everything were being taken away from him.

“I’m sorry. I - I don’t know how to make you believe that I am, but I truly am sorry. I would never hurt you, Claire. I would never hurt Sherry.” He was pleading at his point. He didn’t know what else to do.

“But you did. You hurt us Leon, and I’m not saying that I won’t forgive you, but it’s going to take some time. You fucked up and your usual ‘sorry’ isn’t going to fix it when we always end up in the same cycle again.” She sighed and as the air left her body she could feel all of her anger leaving as well only to be replaced with immense sadness and disappointment.

Claire turned and walked towards the door. A small clang echoed through the silent room and, although Leon couldn’t see from his spot in the kitchen, he knew that Claire had dropped her spare key on the table next to the door.

“Wait! Claire, please, don’t.”

“Don’t what Leon?” She didn’t turn around, she knew she wouldn’t be able to leave if she did. So, head down she gathered her strength and continued,

“Don’t leave? Give me a reason to stay then.”

“ I love you.” It came out in a soft whisper.

Those three simple words - the first time he had ever said them to her in a non-platonic way. They made her heart soar and ache, both at the same time. She’d imagined this moment a lot but never like this. Never at the end of a fight that had been building for a long time. Never with her back to him, preparing to leave. Never with him sitting in his kitchen, a mess, crying in a way she’d never seen from him. Never like this. And, as much as she wanted to stay…

“ I love you too Leon. But that’s not what this is about. Call Sherry, she deserves to hear from you why you couldn’t do this one thing for her.”

With that, she left. With her, Leon felt a part of him leave as well.

The tears turned to outright sobs as he collapsed on his kitchen floor - dirty. The floor was dirty. He was dirty. He hadn’t cleaned or showered in a while but it was kind of fitting. His apartment was dirty, his clothes were dirty, his body was dirty but he was dirty in a way that was deeper than just the physical sense.

He’d let them down. The only two people in this world that he still gave a damn about. The only two people he would try for.

Then why hadn’t he? Why hadn’t he pushed himself harder? In the same sense, why hadn’t he taken a break when he had pushed too hard. Why hadn’t he tried harder to stop her? Why hadn’t he?

There were too many questions. If he left himself to ponder them for too long he’d never get up from this dirty kitchen floor and he couldn’t afford to stay here forever. He had business to attend to, phone calls to make.

First, to his job. Claire was right, he needed to stop overworking himself and he’s acquired more than enough hours to take some time off. Then, to Sherry, because he owed her an apology in more than just words. He only hoped she would allow him to make it up to her.

He wanted to call Claire - show her he was trying, that she was right and he would do better. However, he knew that would probably only make things worse. She always gave him the time he needed, now it was time for him to do the same.

But before anything, he had to get up off the floor. The floor was dirty. He was dirty. Leon was tired of the blood and grime that seemed to fill almost all of his waking hours as D.S.O Agent Kennedy. He decided he wouldn’t let it follow him home anymore. So, Leon got up.

On his way to the bathroom he passed by the bowl he kept on his front table by the door. It was a housewarming gift from Claire who knew he was always misplacing his keys and yet never making an effort to get more organized. Always looking out for him, his Claire.

Leon wouldn’t even let himself question if there even was a ‘his Claire’. Not that he owned her, no one could ever own Claire Redfield. But, looking at the two keys laying together in the bowl, Leon couldn’t help but think they were the same - a matching set. One complementing the other in a way that, while they were separate, they were still part of the same.

Yes, Leon Kennedy got up and as he looked at his dirty face in the mirror, he turned the faucet on because he was tired of being dirty. He was ready to get clean.

#Cleon #Cleon fic #Leon Kennedy #Claire Redfield #claire x leon #Claire/Leon #angst #resident evil #i wanna make my angst better so please hang with me until i do #sry for the long wait #sry again for the long ass rant at the beginning im super tired and it's kinda late but I wanted to post anyway #lol i'm doing it again

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ohnopoe · 3 years

Text

Once Upon A Time | Frankie Morales

Ship: Frankie Morales x Reader Prompt: “What happened to their happily ever after?” “Not all love stories get a happily ever after, sometimes it’s just once upon a time.” Word Count: 3.6k+ Tagging: @remmysbounty (requester) Author’s Note: If anyone... wanted more on this story... lmk because I kinda got invested whilst writing this ngl

This is part of my follower celebration! Click here for info!

It was a story he knew better than any other. A story ingrained in his mind, with every detail as clear as day. The words might change, but the world never did, a story of friendship, a story of love, a story that he would turn into something magical and foreign, and do his best to hide the reality of.

It was a story that Sophia knew just as well, but that never stopped her from asking for it. Night after night, whenever Frankie would go to put his little girl to sleep, she would ask for the same bedtime story, eyes wide, pout in place, and Frankie, well, he could never say no to his daughter.

The story was a part of the bedtime routine at this point, and it hurt just as much as it brought a smile to both their faces.

Sometimes he would tell of adventures, times when the two protagonists would go off to distant lands, fighting for their country and their families. Sometimes the tales would be simpler, funny instances that seemed just a little too familiar to be made up. And sometimes, if she tried hard enough, Sophia could almost believe she remembered being there for some of them.

It always revolved around the same two characters Frankie had long since given up on renaming them with every story, sticking to the pseudonyms he had given them so long ago; even if the names didn’t truly fit. But sometimes, sometimes they were joined by others, three or four friends who would always seem to linger in the distance, never taking centre stage, but never truly leaving either.

There was a near endless number of adventures for Frankie to tell, but they always came back to the same story at the end, a story of a friendship deeper than any other, a story of love.

At five years old, Sophia had grown to love story time more than Frankie ever could have expected. At one time, convincing her it was bedtime had been a task and a trial, and even his friends had been at a loss for what to do. But then you had floated in, hiding your own nerves as you offered your god-daughter a warm smile, wrapping her in your arms as you carried her to bed.

The story had been different that night. You hadn’t gone for one of the ridiculous number of books Frankie had bought in an effort to appeal to his daughter’s brimming imagination, no, you had gone into your memory and stolen stories from reality.

It was the first time in a long time that he saw Sophia relax and surrender to bedtime. Curiosity and wide eyes kept her focused on you and you alone as you weaved memories into something magical, and far more child friendly than the reality of them had ever been.

Frankie never mentioned the way his heart warmed at the sight of you sitting there on the edge of Sophia’s bed, never dared to bring up the way he adored watching the two of you interact, or how he wished it were a permanent part of his life. No, he simply stood there with a smile plastered on his lips as he watched from the doorway until his little girl was sound asleep and you gently ushered your way back to the living room to return to the group of friends that you had arrived with.

Over a year later, and he continued on what you had started with a bittersweet smile. He wasn’t as good with words, and he’d stumble as he tried to turn real life threats into mystical parallels, but he’d never fail to put on voices that made Sophia laugh, and he never missed a night time story, no matter what was going on.

Tonight’s story was a soft one. There were no tales of your joint time in the special forces weaved into tales of Knights serving a magical kingdom, no heroics or daring rescues. No, tonight it had been simpler, the memory of the two of you relaxing together as you simply drove for as long as you could, camping out in your car when you got too tired to go on, and just enjoying a weekend off with your best friend.

He could remember that evening clearer than what he had eaten for lunch only hours ago. You had been exhausted when he finally decided to pull over for the night. Curled up in the passenger seat, with a sleepy smile playing on your lips, it was the most at ease he had ever seen you in all your years of friendship. The stars had shone brightly, the open air making them gleam all the more as you turned to face him in the car that had felt far too small all damn day.

“This is nice,” the words were mumbled as they slipped past your lips, your exhaustion pulling you closer towards sleep with each passing second. And maybe it was the fact you were already falling into sleep, curled up awkwardly as you were, but the next words you spoke gave him the slightest flickering of hope.

“I’m glad the other’s were busy,” you admitted, each word slurring further into the next. “I’m glad it’s just us.”

Years had passed and still those words were ingrained in his memory. Of course, in tonight’s story it hadn’t been a car but a carriage, the two knights, because you were far stronger than any princess, travelling together through magical realms that were just as beautiful as that night sky had been. But even in his retelling some things remained the same, and your words… well, he could never replace those.

Frankie was so used to seeing the angelic features of his daughter fast asleep at the end of each story, that it stunned him to look down, pulling himself from the memory and the hope he had once had that you might one day be something more than friends, to see those same curious eyes staring back at him.

“You should be asleep,” he offered with a chuckle. After all, he could never truly be mad at his little girl, not when she was staring at him with questions dancing in her gaze. It wasn’t uncommon that she would ask questions about his stories, little things, things that seemed irrelevant to him but meant the world to her, but usually they came earlier in the night, long before the stories would reach their climax. “Go on then, what do you want to know?”

Shuffling her way up her bed until she was sitting upright, that same stubborn determination of her father reflected back at him, she pulled her toy frog, aptly named ‘Leaf’ into her hold as she stared back at him determinedly. He could practically hear her mind whirling, trying to find the words to ask whatever was distracting her from sleep tonight.

With a frown, and a tilt of her head that reminded him eerily of Santiago, she spoke carefully, almost as if she was scared of the answer. “What happened to their happily ever after?”

Frankie paused at the question, visibly shocked. He had expected another of her eccentric ponderings, questions of hair colour or clothing or something that gave the story depth but no real significance. He had never even considered the end.

The truth was, the ending hadn’t been anything remarkable at all. In fact, the mediocrity of it almost broke his heart. Time had pulled at you both, a short lived relationship for him with a woman who had never really gelled with his daughter, a new job that took you a few states over… And then somehow it had been months, hell, it had almost been a year now, and he hadn’t even spoken to you through text.

But maybe that was a good thing, maybe this was the chance you had been bereft all these years. For so long you had been there for him, for the whole damn team. Your own life lingered in the shadows, pushed aside so you could help him adjust to suddenly having a child, to being a single parent all at once, so you could help Will’s confidence in public speaking, so you could be there to support Benny at every fight.

Now you were further away, but you had a job you had dreamt of, you didn’t spend every waking moment on a group of men who never could quite figure out how to function without you. Didn’t you deserve a chance at something real? Something that was purely your own?

Sure, it wasn’t the life he had dreamt of, you weren’t by his side, but you must be happy, and that, hell, that meant so much more to him.

With that same bittersweet smile that dragged at the corners of his lips every time he recounted one of your adventures together, Frankie pulled at Sophia’s blankets, trying and quickly failing at getting her settled again. But she was determined, wiggling away from her father’s attempts as she stared resolutely back at him.

A heavy sigh, and he glanced away, terrified of how she might react at learning the horrible truth of the world.

“Not all love stories get a happily ever after, sometimes it’s just ‘once upon a time’,” he admitted. And, damn it, when had he started to think of this as a love story? When had he given in to the fact that he had fallen so damn hard for his best friend, even now, so long after you had left.

“Maybe that’s because it’s not the end,” Sophia pondered, although there was a resolve behind each word, as though she was answering a question whilst asking it.

The soft plush fabric of Leaf was pushed against Frankie’s hand, a silent attempt at comfort from the little girl who somehow always seemed to know too much. “You should call Y/N,” she spoke softly, but decisively; the impact of her words louder than anything she could have shouted.

Frankie’s head jolted up, any walls that had once been in place shattering as he heard your name fall from his daughter’s lips. He had been so careful, always making sure to fictionalise the tales, even your name, to make it something far from reality. How had she figured it out? And when?

Perhaps it was merely a coincidence, his little girl recognising a similarity between what she had once seen between the two of you and the characters he spoke of each night. Perhaps she hadn’t truly figured it out. Perhaps, and even he could admit it was beyond hoping, perhaps she just missed you too, and was thinking of you and the stories you once offered when you’d come to visit.

But, while there was a sad longing in his little girl’s eyes that burned away at him, it was not the strongest of emotions he saw there. This wasn’t just his little girl missing a friend, she was too focused, too set in her decisions. She had to have figured things out, and it had Frankie gulping nervously.

There was no risk of her telling you, not when you hadn’t spoken in months, and if she were to tell Pope or the Miller brothers? Well, it’d hardly be news to them. But still, something about her just knowing how he felt about you made things so much more real.

For so long you had been an unattainable dream, a picture of love that he would never dare reach for knowing Sophia had to be his number one priority. But now you were something far more terrifying, you were real.

Of course, he had no misconceptions that you’d ever actually go out with him, especially now that you had moved away. No, you’d laugh at the suggestion, thinking it was a joke the boys had put him up to, surely. But knowing Sophia wanted this rather than fought against it… somehow there was something damning about that thought.

Pulled from his thoughts as Sophia took back her precious Leaf and began snuggling back into the warmth of her blankets, he offered a smile that was anything but convincing as he struggled to find the words he needed.

But she beat him to it, holding out her little finger with the same determination she had held all damn night. “Pinky promise me you’ll call her,” she spoke, still focused even as her voice became muffled behind the toy she hugged close. It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t even a suggestion, it was a demand.

At any other time Frankie might have laughed at the way the words were almost barked, he might have even scruffed up her hair and teased her, his little princess demanding she get her way. But he was still far too lost in his own mind to even comprehend the ridiculous tone he was met with.

Perhaps it was time to give you a call. It didn’t have to be an admission of an undying love that had settled within him years ago, and it certainly didn’t have to mention the fact that he told stories of you every night to the little girl who had wrapped him so thoroughly around her little finger that he had given into her demands of calling you without so much as a moment’s discussion. But it would be nice to hear your voice, to know you were ok. Even if it broke his heart to hear how happy you were in your new life, even if he found out you had everything you had put aside in the past, it would be worth it just to hear your voice again.

With a heavy sigh, he leant forward, entwining his pinky with the little finger of his daughter. “I pinky promise.”

Sophia nodded in response, like a general sending her troops into battle, even as her shoulders began to droop against her pillows. It seemed that now, satisfied with the fact she got what she was after, sleep was finally starting to creep its way over her.

“Good.” The word was softer than her demands, although she would never admit it as she snuggled further into bed, her eyelids beginning to droop as her other hand came to tighten her hold against Leaf. “You should do it tonight,” the words were almost mumbled now, eyes slipping shut as she spoke. “Tell her I miss her.”

Frankie sat there far longer than he usually did, just watching his little angel as she drifted peacefully into sleep. She looked so pure and sweet when she was asleep, no hint of the conniving way she could control her father in sight.

She was growing up too fast. He used to think that parents said it too often, overused the term to a point it had become a cliche. But watching her now, the way she had been able to put pieces together when he had worked so hard to keep them a secret, the way she had made him promise to call you, not that he ever needed much convincing… It was hard to reconcile that this was the very same little girl who still thought mud pies were fantastic fun, the same girl who had curled into him in fear when Santiago had bought crackers for the fourth of July and unintentionally terrified her only months prior.

He was procrastinating, even he knew that. But somehow the idea of leaving the terrifyingly pink and green room, (never trust a five year old for matching colour combinations, that was a lesson well learnt), made his promise feel all the more real.

The night was pitch black now, no hints of dusk lingering in the sky. Hours had passed as he simply sat there, lost to his thoughts of you and the terrifying possibilities of what calling you might entail.

The perfect job, a nice apartment, your life was finally what you deserved, and he was anything but thrilled to hear about it. He knew it’d break his heart to hear just how happy you were away from him. He knew because each time you had spoken after you first moved had hurt so damn much that, in a truly cowardly manner, he had let more and more time slip between the phone calls until they had ceased all together, all out of the fear of the pain he was bound to feel.

It would only get worse, he reckoned. Soon enough you’d find love, you’d start a family, have a picture perfect life, and he’d be nothing but a piece of your past. He could cope with that, so long as you were happy, that’s what he had always told himself. But when you spoke of how great your new job was, of how nice your community was, that green monster ate away at him with a ferocity he had never expected to feel.

He had to just get it over with, stop thinking about it and just call. If he didn’t, he’d be lost to his thoughts all damn night, and that was never a good idea.

He was pulling up your contact before he even left the softly lit bedroom, thumb hovering over the call button as he shut the door ever so carefully.

He could do this. It was just a call, it didn’t even have to be long.

What surprised him most as he finally pressed the green button was the excitement he felt at the thought of talking to you again. Sure, he was terrified, but the thought of hearing your voice… it still felt far more like coming home than it ought to have.

The shrill ring of the tone felt horribly loud, echoing through the silence of the small house almost tauntingly. But Frankie persisted. He could do this… most likely…

With each ring, a hole seemed to grow within Frankie’s chest. You must have been busy, probably out with new friends, maybe even a date, enjoying your new life, the life you deserved. He almost hung up, considered it with more conviction with each echoing ring, but he couldn’t tell Sophia a lie, and he couldn’t just give up now. Maybe it would ring out, maybe you had even changed your number. One way or another, he’d see it through, if only so he would be able to meet his daughter’s gaze in the morning.

And then the sound cut off suddenly, and it was replaced by something that stole his breath away.

“Frankie?” you sounded almost hopeful, questioning if it really was him, rather than why on earth he was calling.

He would never tire of hearing the way you said his name. It didn’t matter if it was in teasing or happiness, hell, he’d even take the way you groaned out an irritated ‘Francisco’ when he’d embarrass you with stupid jokes. There was just something about the way his name came from your lips that made it sound like so much more than just a name, it sounded wholesome and pure and so damn important.

“Hey,” he spoke with a huff of laughter that felt awkward and forced.

He sounded just as insecure as he had that first time you’d met, Will dragging you over to meet the rest of the boys after he’d quite literally run into you during orienteering earlier in the day. Frankie had been anything but smooth, used to hanging with the boys, and not some gorgeous woman who stole his breath away.

Had you always been on base? How had he not seen you before? He was certain he would have remembered seeing that smile before, and those eyes. The moment you met his gaze, he had been lost, and any attempt at speaking had come out so damn garbled that it had taken him weeks to get the others to shut up about it.

It had been far too long since you’d spoken, all those years of comfort that had grown between you reverting back as his insecurities crept their way back in once more. But, damn, was it good to hear your voice again.

“How are you?” the question was so impersonal that it had Frankie closing his eyes in embarrassment as soon as the words had left his mouth, wishing he could take them back, wishing he could have been smooth and suave, anything but the awkward mess he seemed to be as he pottered around the house anxiously.

Your breath caught on the other side of the line, a giddy smile filling your features as you curled up on the sofa of your apartment. God, it was good to hear that voice again.

“I’ve missed you.” The words passed your lips before you could even think to stop them. The admission was far more than he had asked for, but it felt so good to get it off your chest. You had missed him from the moment you had left, hell, you had missed him from the moment you agreed to take the damn job that had uprooted your entire life.

“I’ve missed you too,” he admitted with a sigh of relief, letting your words curl around him like a comforting blanket. Maybe you were just being polite, sure, but he doubted it. You never said something you didn’t mean, at least, not to him, and he was holding onto that fact desperately as his pacing finally came to a halt. “I wish you were here.”

Damn, he really had no control over his mouth, did he?

But before he could berate his idiotic mind for forgetting to filter thoughts from speech, he heard the way you inhaled sharply. Your words followed quickly, leaving no time for him to over analyse the sound.

“So do I.”

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #frankie morales fic #frankie morales imagine #triple frontier #pedro pascal characters #my fic #damned if you queue damned if you don't

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leotssukinaga · 4 years

Text

Uno- Jumin Han

A/N: ngl I'm lowkey nervous about posting this? This is my first mysme fic, and it's probably not great but I hope its at least a little enjoyable!

Summary: Your first night at Jumin’s place would have been terribly dull, but you always come prepared. Who knew a simple game of Uno would be what forced him to confront his feelings?

Jumin hadn't expected to have fun playing Uno. He hadn't expected to ever actually play Uno, and if he was being honest he hadn't even known the game existed until you pulled it from your bag. Tonight seemed to be the night of defying expectations, though, since you being here at all had come as a shock. The guilt he felt at having nothing to entertain you increased over the first half-hour the two of you sat in silence, leading him to offer an apology. You waved him off with a sweet laugh and then, soon after, an exclamation- of joy or of realisation he wasn't sure- as you dove into the bag you'd brought with you. "I never go anywhere without it!" You explained proudly, holding the small red box up for him to inspect. "...Uno?" "It's a card game." He was thankful for the explanation. "Isn't it.. for children?" You frowned at him, crossing your arms across your chest.

"Fun doesn't have an age limit, Jumin. C'mon, I promise if you hate it I won't make you play." He wouldn't have conceded, not for anyone else, but you were admittedly his weak point. He nodded. Your smile was worth whatever he was about to endure. "D'you mind if I put some music on?" "Not at all." He'd regret that later, when he noticed that you sang while you shuffled the cards, when your voice had him falling deeper than he'd realised he could go, when you glanced up at him between verses and grinned before turning your attention back to the cards. Music had never been high on his list, especially not the kind you were playing, but he found himself wishing he could record your singing and listen to it on repeat. Or at the very least, hear you sing around the house sometimes. Maybe your singing wasn't the important factor. Maybe he just wanted you.

"Jumin, you're not listening to me." He was pulled from his thoughts by your words, and he realised you'd been talking for a while. "I'm sorry, MC, I was distracted. Could you repeat that, please?" He listened carefully this time as you explained the rules of the game, and promised him he'd pick it up. "If my 80-year-old grandpa can do it, I'm sure you can scrape through." "You might have too much faith in me." You chuckled, loud and angelic, and God, it was nice to have someone laugh at his jokes, even nicer to have that someone be you; his mind drifted back to the idea of a life with you, one where he heard that laugh every single day until he turned deaf or died. Having you right in front of him was making him confront feelings he'd been trying very hard to ignore. "You're distracted tonight. Are you still thinking about your father?" "No its... nothing. You don't need to worry about me." "I'll always worry about you, Jumin." If he was the type to blush he would have right then, but he simply smiled at you, small and barely visible but definitely there. You cursed yourself for how your heart fluttered at the sight.

Several rounds of Uno- most of which were won by you- later, he realised he was enjoying himself. He couldn't be sure how much of that enjoyment could be attributed to your presence, but it would be safe to wager that the percentage was rather high. From the way you muttered a curse when he made you draw, to the way you said 'here's looking at you, kid' with a smirk before playing a wild card (you'd explained it as a reference to a movie he was sure he'd never seen. He would find himself researching it a few days later.), to the way you genuinely seemed proud when he beat you. All of it was contributing to the growing feeling settling in his chest that you were everything he wanted and more, that anything he'd ever found himself missing was in your eyes. That he loved you, and that he wasn't as terrified of that as he thought he would be.

The night dwindled by as you played, losing track of everything but scoring. It was only when you yawned mid-play that he realised how late it was getting, and concern overtook the warmth in his chest. "You should sleep." "I'm not-" you were cut off by a yawn, disproving your words before you'd even got them out, "tired." "Lying about that usually works better when you don't yawn, MC." You giggled at him- why did you have to have such a wonderful laugh- a hand reaching up to rub your eyes. "You're cute when you're bossy." That floored him. Cute? You thought he was cute? He searched your face for any sign of jest, but none could be found. This time, he did blush, though your exhaustion led you to miss it. "You can sleep on my bed, come with me." Anxiety flooded your chest at the brushing off of your compliment. Had you said the wrong thing? You were glad he was walking away from you, glad he couldn't see you nervously biting your nails as you began to overthink. At least, he couldn't until he turned around to look at you. You hadn't even noticed that you'd both stopped walking until he was crouching in front of you, forcing your eyes to meet his by inserting himself into your line of sight. He took your wrist in his, gently pulling your hand away to stop the nail-biting. "What is it?" The irony that you were both feeling the same anxieties wouldn't be recognised by either of you, concern and worry occupying too much of your minds to register that you were having the same thoughts. "Have I made you uncomfortable? I apologise if I have." The concern on his face and in his voice wiped your anxieties away. If he’d been upset with you he probably wouldn’t be so worried. He certainly wouldn’t have let it show. "No, you haven't Jumin. I'm just... it's not important. I'm tired." He let it go despite his concern, not wanting to make things worse, and offered to read to you to help you sleep. He was delighted to have you take up the offer. And once you drifted off, who was there to comment on the time he spent simply watching you sleep, daydreaming about a future with you in it? And of course, who was to say that in your dreams, you weren't thinking about the exact same thing.

#mystic messenger #mysme #jumin han #han jumin #jumin mm #mm jumin #jumin mysme #mysme jumin #jumin han x mc #jumin han x reader #jumin x mc #jumin x reader

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tartagliaxx · 3 years

Note

Pop goes my corn?? More like pop goes my HEART 🥺💕💕 it's been a dang hot minute but you are making it very, very hard not to fall in love with all these men Lei--

(I say, as if I hadn't already been teetering on the edge of loving Icy Mr. Peacock(tm))

But ye, I do have to agree with you on those leaks man--though, now that Inazuma's out, it's good to hear you're having fun!! I have yet to finish chapter 1 because I'm a slow turtle, but! Thoma? Tohma. I am looking respectfully 👀👀👀

Thank you for the kiss btw! Now take one in return because your writing? Your ideas?? chef's kiss magnifique 😔👌 Childe is 100% the kinda guy who'd still think you're beautiful decades after your wedding and is not at all shy to say it. You may think otherwise with how wrinkly you're getting, but he's not letting that go so easily. It's his dream to grow old with you, y'know? And!! Baking with him? A timeless classic. The guy always tries to lick batter off the spoon no matter how many times you tell him he might get salmonella (something something "I'm too sexy to get sick"), and usually instigates fights by swabbing said batter onto your nose. Are there also times where you compete to see who can make the best pastries? Yes. Also!! You make sure to send his mom a picture of him eating the food as thanks. Yes, you tried taking it discreetly. Yes, he posed for it. And my gosh--can we talk about how nice it feels to wipe the smirk off his face? Granted, tugging on his shirt to kiss him may have spurred him on to tease you more, but it'd definitely be nice while it lasted 😂 you two usually have some banter going on when it comes to your respective heights from time to time, too. ("How's the weather up there today, Childe?" "I dunno, what's the ground like down there? See any neat bugs lately?")

-🌻

ahhshsbdvajsbjajzvajj— i forgot i ever posted that thing. i’m glad that at least one of us liked it tho. ah whatever… as long as it made you happy. anw, a philosopher once said, “fall fucking deeper in love bitch <33”

i ended up going through the entire archon quest too quickly. i was so into it that i lost track of time lol but yes…

✨thoma✨

ngl i forgot what kind of shit i replied to you. most of them came to me in the spur of the moment so i highly doubt i said anything comprehensible. on a different note, childe, you little shit 💕 i wouldnt say im insecure abt my height but if someone comments on it, i would break their kneecaps and take it for myself. then again, i feel like he’d like it a lot if u said smth like that to him. honestly? all of these are perfect. if my work gets a chef’s kiss, your ideas get a nobel prize or smth. these can all singlehandedly fix the world’s a billion and one issues. but! but! imagine shopping with childe. he’d take a scarf and a pair of cheap sunglasses (might also take a wine glass from the home section for props) and he’ll obnoxiously gasp as you come out of the fitting room saying stuff like ‘marvelisimo! you— oui! good!’ he’s embarrassing. stop him before he gets too into the role of being a french haute couture instigator. so that’s wild right? but childe would also take you baby clothes shopping even if you weren’t expecting/planning to have a baby. he just feels like it. but if you are, then you could vaguely see his eyes misting over as he cradles a pair of baby sneakers’ “they’re so tiny!” he says in that high pitched squeaky voice he does when he’s feeling 🥺 and finally, apartment/house shopping. he’ll pose around the place asking you if he looks good bc no way in hell would he buy a place that doesnt accentuate his features w its lighting and whatnot. you can also expect to have him pulling you around like a golden retriever. by the end of it, you’re a laughing mess as he talks abt another one of his ‘mind blowing plans’ which may or may not include putting a trampoline in the balcony and a swimming pool at the bottom of it. might also makeout w you in every corner but who knows 🤷‍♀️

#˗ˋˏ°• letters from cat island •°ˎˊ˗#˗ˋˏ°• from my darling : 🌻 •°ˎˊ˗

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nightglider124 · 4 years

Text

RobStar Week 2020: Day 2

Oof, I don’t actually like this one. Which... it’s a shame cos I was excited to write this and it’s an idea I wanted to do for ages but decided to use it for this years robstarweek.

This is an... alternate cave scene from the episode ‘Stranded’.

Idk... I botched it lmao. I am... my writing skills have honestly gone down the pan, ngl.

BLEH WHATEVER. Enough of the negativity.

Hope you guys at least take some joy from this one. Hopefully I will do better than I have with the first two prompts for this week.

___________________

Warmth

Robin sucked in a deep breath as he reached up and snapped off a wayward branch that seemed to have snuck through the cracks of the cave they had taken shelter in. It had been a bit of a challenge to find wood of all things on this strange planet at first but after some time, the two of them had managed to get a small fire going.

His heart was still pounding from what had happened. The last thing he expected was for the ground to shake and give out beneath their feet as they attempted to find the others. Robin was more than ready to find the missing members of his team, head home and put as much distance between them and this death trap of a planet as he could.

Pausing before he walked back over to the small fire, he chanced a glance over his shoulder at Starfire. Ever since they had plummeted into an inky abyss, she had been mysteriously and uncharacteristically quiet.

She was sitting on a log that was on one side of the flames, her arms wrapped around her shoulders, as if shielding herself from harm. It was a first to see Starfire practically retreating in on herself and barely speaking to him.

He could feel the anxious knot in his chest, tighten suddenly as he dwelled on their situation and the conversation they had been having just before the cliffs collapsed.

The whole mission had been a complete train wreck. He wished, more than anything, he could go back to that space station they’d arrived at, defeated the screaming monster with her and then ushered Cyborg out before he could tease anything at all.

Robin furrowed his brows beneath his mask as he remembered the memory from earlier that day. He was so stupid for reacting like that. In reality, she wasn’t his girlfriend. She was his friend who was a girl but… romantically? He didn’t think they had breached that recently or at least, it wasn’t made clear to him if they had moved forward like that.

It was true that there was some underlying connection; something that drew them to one another but they’d never taken the time to discuss it or broach the subject before. With him being practically allergic to any conversation pertaining emotions, he had always shut them down or avoided those types of conversations with her before they even had a chance of starting.

It wasn’t like he didn’t want that kind of relationship with her because he did. He’d thought about it and imagined what it would be like, many times since he had first met her. Robin wondered all sorts of things in regards to if they were to take their relationship further, into unknown territory.

But, in truth, it scared him. He didn’t know what he would have to expect and didn’t know if they would last, despite hoping they would.

There was this weight hanging on his heart now, just holding him down and denying him any of the confidence he usually had. She had been off with him ever since they had found one another which, after some probing and careful tiptoeing, he had realized that she was still angry and a little confused about what he had said.

It was obvious that it had been going through her mind and she had started thinking about it on a deeper level, despite his words being more of a defensive response to Cyborg’s jabs, than anything else.

God, he couldn’t wait to give Cyborg double training when they eventually got home.

He inwardly scolded himself for not giving her credit where the English language was concerned. At first, he thought she was confused over the wording but after some time, he learned that she knew full well what Cyborg meant by his word choice.

She was upset because he seemed so flippant and dismissive of it altogether.

Robin closed his eyes for a moment and tried to organize his scattered mind. There was a plethora of thoughts racing through his brain, including finding the others, hoping they wouldn’t run into any other weird beast like creatures as well as getting off of this crumbling planet as soon as possible.

But, sitting at the forefront of all of that, was Starfire. He was concerned about her and their friendship too. Back when they had started falling, she had been unable to tap into her flight and it had utterly terrified him when she had yelled that she couldn’t fly.

It had never happened before.

Starfire had always been solid in terms of relying on her powers and she’d never faltered in the slightest in any battle they had had since they’d first banded together as a team.

On the flip side, he wanted to know if they were okay. One of the main reasons he had always steered away from admitting to any romantic feelings towards her was because he didn't want their friendship to change because of any harboured emotions.

He bowed his head and opened his eyes again, allowing the hand that was resting against the cave wall to slide down the jagged surface until it fell away to his side.

Swallowing sharply, he shook his head and turned around, wandering back towards their makeshift safe spot.

His heart was beating a mile a minute as he reached her, throwing the branch into the flames and watching as she shifted away slightly so that her back faced him a little more.

Robin frowned and slowly sat on the opposite side of the wooden log, “Starfire…” He murmured, his tone soft, “What happened back there? Why couldn’t you fly?”

He heard her sniffle quietly before she turned to gaze at the fire, her expression telling of what she was feeling. She looked tired and frustrated; upset that she had had no real answers to her questions since the explosion back at the space station.

“Tamaranean powers are inclined by our emotions…” She admitted, her eyes lacking the electric spark they usually had.

“So the way you feel affects your ability to fly.”

Starfire nodded solemnly, her emerald orbs shifting with uncertainty, “And right now, I feel unfamiliar confusion.”

“But… we’ve faced danger before without your powers failing.” Robin pointed out, a sudden heat consuming the back of his neck as he sensed it wasn’t exactly that, that was the problem,

Starfire sighed and pulled her knees up to her chest, her feet resting on the log as she turned her head away to the dark side of the rocky cavern.

“It is not danger that confuses me, Robin. It is you.” She confessed, opening her eyes and staring directly at him, “I do not understand… us.”

Robin felt his throat run dry and he fought not to visibly react to that, despite his heart feeling like it was about to burst out of his chest with the anxiety that came hand in hand with these types of discussions. He pulled an awkward expression, without even realising it, as the inferno creeping up the back of his ears intensified and he knew it was only a matter of time before the blush spread to his cheeks.

“Ever since Cyborg said… the ‘girlfriend’... things are different between us.” She continued, tilting her head a fraction,

Reverting back to what he thought might work, Robin forced a smile onto his face and held a hand up to stall her words, “It’s... just a misunderstanding....” He explained, “Everything’s okay.”

He tried to brush it off and act as though things were absolutely fine when he knew, deep down, they were not and this wasn’t something that Starfire was going to simply let go without talking about.

And… maybe that was a good thing. Possibly.

Starfire rebuffed this and got up from where she had been perched, “Everything is not okay.”

She moved away from him, once again turning her back on him as she shuffled into the shadows of the cave. He frowned, hating the air of sadness that was tainting her voice every time she spoke.

He more so hated the fact that he was the cause for said sadness.

“We are not okay. I fear we will never be okay again and you will not tell me how you feel.” She whimpered, trying to detach from him by standing so far out of reach.

Robin stood as well, clearing his throat and tugging at the collar of his cape as he crossed some of the distance between them, “Uh… I’m not… very good at that.”

It was the truth. He supposed he should probably be honest with her about how difficult he found situations like these. Despite not wanting to talk about feelings at the risk of making himself vulnerable, he realized it was Starfire and if anyone deserved some kind of answer to the way he acted, it was her.

Starfire sniffled again and slowly half turned towards him, her expression one of discouragement, “Do Earth boys come with… some kind of manual then?”

He was powerless to stop the soft smile that graced his lips at that, once again acknowledging how endearing and sweet she was, without even realizing it herself.

Robin breathed a laugh, “That would make things easier.”

She spun on her heel and strode back over to him, keeping her distance by remaining on the other side of the scorching blaze. Her eyes bored into him, silently pleading with him to offer something up, just to satisfy her doubts in some way, “How am I to know what you think about me?”

Robin sucked in an exasperated breath, having not been prepared for this at all and knowing, if he were to try and explain to her what he felt or even, what he liked about her, he’d become a babbling mess.

“Starfire…” He sighed, practically his whole upper body slumping as defeat started to consume him.

There were so many things that he liked about her. In fact, it was probably a shorter list to tell her what he didn’t like and that was extremely barren.

He loved how carefree and bubbly she was and how even the simplest things on Earth were things she found utterly fascinating whilst the average human wouldn’t even bat an eyelid.

He loved how caring and sweet she was with everyone around her. Whether they were friend or foe, she constantly tried to see the positive and the good in individuals who, most of the time, didn’t even deserve it.

He loved how intelligent and strong she was, being able to handle herself in practically every situation she found herself in. Her powers were just an extension of her warrior self, fully capable in the art of combat, should the need ever arise.

Robin blinked to himself as reason after reason sailed through his head, her question having stayed with him for so long, he suddenly realized that he hadn’t replied to her at all. He cleared his throat and ignored the way his face was now roasting with embarrassment,

He wasn’t sure he could say any of that to her and rather do what he most likely should have done and told her what he thought about her, Robin simply flapped his mouth open and closed, again and again like a fish gasping for breath.

Starfire’s demeanour slipped and whilst she had looked hopeful and excited to hear what he thought about her and their relationship status, it suddenly dwindled faster than water trickling down a drain.

Her eyes became dull and her shoulders lowered, casting a glance off to the side before she took a step away from the fire again,

Robin felt trapped; he didn’t know what he could say to possibly salvage this. He had just been handed a silver platter of a chance, to clear things up between them but there was something in the pit of his stomach that simply refused to let him open up in such a way.

“It… It does not matter…” She whispered, her tone low, “I am... sorry for pushing you to speak about this and… it is clear to me that… Cyborg was wrong. I am not your girlfriend and I… should never have expected or assumed otherwise.”

He could see her chest rising and falling a little faster than before and he took the smallest step forward, unsure if she was crying, her face being distorted by the dim lighting being cast around the cave.

Robin swallowed the mountain in his throat, panic and regret locking in his chest. He was already kicking himself for not saying anything, leaving her to stew in her own insecurities in relation to him and how he felt about her.

There was a frantic aura, flaring in his head like alarm bells. He wanted to take it back, redo the whole conversation and set it straight that he thought she was beautiful, kind and amazing; just a few traits, beyond an entire list of other reasons why he was falling more in love with her every day since he met her.

“Star-” He croaked, reaching a hand out to her.

She stepped away and offered him the tiniest smile that spoke volumes of how she was truly feeling; the conversation not having gone at all how she hoped it would and it was all down to him for being an idiot and deflecting her.

He didn’t blame her in the slightest. Starfire was a creature of emotions. Tamaraneans wore their hearts on their sleeves, being open with how they felt and what they thought which was a stark contrast to how most humans operated.

Starfire had often pointed out that humans constantly seemed to complicate matters with words and logic, rather than just riding out circumstances with their hearts.

“There is a storm coming.” Starfire blurted, briefly eyeing the darkening sky through the small gap in the side of the cave; a sure fire exit once it was safe.

Blinking, Robin inclined his head to catch a glimpse of the outside. The sky was full of dark clouds, with an amber shade drenching the entirety beyond it. He continued to stare out until he saw a flash in the distance, illuminating the clouds before it faded out.

Soon enough, dust and sand began to swirl as the wind picked up and howled outside. He considered asking Starfire if it was a sandstorm, since she would be more familiar with the types of storms that happen in space, but ultimately decided against it since it wasn’t the most appropriate time.

“I believe we should rest and try to find our friends once it is safe outside.” She suggested, tentatively pushing some of her auburn hair behind her ear, “Who knows? Perhaps they will find us, instead.”

Robin watched in silence as she moved around their little campsite and he wished he could grapple for something to say.

“We probably shouldn’t sleep… we don’t uh… we don’t know if there are more things like that slug…” He murmured as he crouched down, trying his best to respect her wishes to be on the whole other side of the fire from him.

Starfire nodded, “We do not necessarily need to sleep. If you would prefer to stay awake…”

He watched as she lowered herself to the ground, brushing at the dirt before she laid her head down, turning away without saying anything at all. Robin frowned and felt an empty bubble in his stomach; a hollow guilt and he wanted to apologise to her and make things better but… he really didn’t know how.

How could he possibly make it better after practically avoiding her questions and her frustrations all day?

Robin exhaled quietly and tried to ignore the painful thuds in his chest as he laid down on the hard dusty concrete. He threaded his gloved fingers together on top of his ribs and chewed on his lower lip as he delved deeper into his chasm of worries.

Suddenly, a fierce gust of wind whistled through the entire cave, setting the overall temperature down to a bitter coldness. Robin flinched and tugged the edges of his cape around the exposed parts of his arms that weren’t covered by his uniform, struggling not to jerk at the bite that the cold offered.

He cautiously glanced over at Starfire, noticing that the fire was really brawling with the winds in order to stay alive. She had barely moved, as if not even noticing how chilly the air around them had become.

Robin inclined his head, trying to suppress the shivers that were wracking his body as he peered out of the small opening of the cave, only to see blustering dust particles so thick that he could no longer see the cliffs outside.

His breath came out shakily as he shuddered and squeezed his eyes shut beneath his mask, surprised at how quickly his body temperature had dropped. His teeth started to chatter as a deep iciness started creeping along his skin.

“Robin?” Starfire murmured, and he could partially hear her shuffling and turning back in his direction,

He kept his eyes closed, trying his best to block out the cold by pulling his cape even tighter around his body. All he could hear was the crackle of the fire and the billowing wind outside.

Suddenly, he felt a weight drop down beside him and his eyes snapped open, his head swivelling to see Starfire making herself comfortable beside him. She stared down at him with concern in her expression but he was baffled by how calm and unaffected she was by the blizzard frost in the air.

“H-How are you… able to deal with the cold?” He stammered, watching as she scooted closer, gently pushing him towards the fire to warm him back up.

“My people are most resilient, especially to low temperatures. You forget… I am from space.” She told him, a wry smile gracing her lips.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“You are freezing, Robin. My body heat runs much higher than humans and I believe I can help.” She replied, laying down beside him and bringing her arms around his torso, rubbing her palms against his exposed areas of skin.

The heat was practically instantaneous. Warmth spread across the planes of his skin like wildfire; everywhere she touched was ignited with fire and he momentarily wondered if she was adding her powers to it for maximum exposure.

Robin exhaled, his jaw aching from where it had been chattering uncontrollable merely 2 minutes beforehand.

His shoulders dropped and he relaxed as the cold seeped away from him, thanks to the alien Princess who was effectively just holding him now.

“Robin? Are you okay?” She asked, beginning to pull away.

He grabbed onto her hands and pressed them against his chest again, with his back still facing her.

“Don’t… I… it’s still really cold.” He admitted, feeling a blush slip across his cheeks.

“Okay.”

They dipped into silence again as they laid there, with only the wind howling outside filling the space. Robin couldn’t deny that being this close to her was nice, especially since they hadn’t really been on great speaking terms since he messed up.

He could feel something building inside of him and decided that now would be the only other chance he had to try and explain himself to her and apologise for the confusion he had caused her.

“Hey… Star?” He murmured,

“Yes?”

Robin turned over so that he was facing her, despite the blush that was likely still painted across his cheeks, “I… I wanted to say sorry.”

Starfire blinked but lowered her chin, her gaze dropping to the small patch of dirt between them, “Robin…”

“Really… I… I don’t know why I reacted like I did when Cyborg… said what he said.” Robin muttered, furrowing his brows as he recalled it in his mind,

“I am not your girlfriend… I understand now what was meant.” She whispered, taking solace in just forgetting it,

“Star… I’m not the best at talking about feelings… I was never taught that and… I’m just not good at it.” He admitted,

“Robin… it is fine. Truly.”

“I wouldn’t mind it… you know.” He blurted, his face turning a crimson tone and he couldn’t look directly at her.

Starfire blinked a few times, trying to comprehend what he had just said to her, “What?”

“Having… a ‘friend who is a girl’ as you put it.” He elaborated, smiling slightly as he repeated her own words,

She softly smiled back, “Truly?”

“I… think I’d need to get used to the idea of it… but… yeah.” He paused and decided to go all the way considering he was already opening himself up considerably, “And… as for what I think about you… I think… it’s uh… awesome the way you shoot starbolts?”

Starfire brightened at that and tilted her head, “Yes? And?”

“And uh… it’s also cool that you’re brave and the strongest girl ever.”

“And… you do not mind having a friend who is a girl?” Starfire checked, visibly a lot more pleased with his communication,

Robin sat up and gently pulled her up with him and smiled back at her, opening his mouth to reply but was cut short by a loud rumbling from behind them.

As they spun to investigate the sound, the wall shook and crumbled, collapsing to reveal the screaming monster that had apparently followed them to this wasteland of a world.

The couple gasped and jumped up as the monster growled, stalking towards them before it opened its mouth and let out a long, ear piercing shriek, preparing to attack.

#robstarweek #robstarweek2020 #robin #starfire #robstar #teen titans #fanfic #oneshot #day 2 #warmth #queued #nightglider124

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illfoandillfie · 4 years

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happy anniversary love! I've always loved "wrapped up in a bow" and it's christmas sequel (can't remember the name sorry), anyways can i get an hc on what,,, activities those two had during valentines

okay ngl I had a vague idea about doing a valentines sequel (partially inspired by seeing him play live oops) but didn’t really have it in me to write a whole fic about it so i definitely have some Thots about this:

(under a cut for length and smut)

Roger is the one to suggest tying you up this time. It seemingly comes out of nowhere while you’re just talking.

You joked about how finding you in nothing but the bow was becoming a holiday tradition between you but he shook his head and said he had something a bit different in mind.

But bondage is fun and you trust him to take care of you (in every sense of the word) so you quickly agree and ask him what he had in mind.

“How do you feel about spanking?”

“Very good,”

“What about spanking with not just my hand?”

“Still very good as long as we don’t use a crop. That sounds like too much,”

“Would a belt be okay? Or a paddle?”

“I think I could be okay with both.”

“Okay. In that case, what if I tied your arms to the roof and spanked you a lot?”

“To the roof?”

He reminds you that the house has exposed ceiling trusses in a lot of it’s rooms and it wouldn’t be too hard to tie you to one.

You’re excited and agree to it.

There’s the usual talk of safewords while you strip and he get’s you set up, always taking care not to put too much strain on your wrists even though they’re cuffed together, the rope tied to the chain and then looped over one of the wood beams in one of the living rooms.

He’s still fully clothed which he knows makes you feel more exposed and turned on.

You’re tied in such a way that you can’t really stand with your feet flat on the floor, instead balancing on the balls of your feet which is fine until the first spank lands unexpectedly and you jolt off balanced

“Fuck,”

Roger just laughs, walks around you like he’s trying to find the best angle to hit you from, and waits until you’ve righted yourself before he does it again.

You’re a little more prepared the second time but the third comes faster than you’d anticipated and the fouth much much slower.

You moan on the fifth and Roger laughs again, teasing you about getting off on being treated like that as he gently rubs your bum to ease the pain a little.

“I think I might need to step it up a notch, make you earn your orgasms properly.”

He walks away and you try to turn to see where he went but you just end up stumbling and trying to right yourself again, hoping he didn’t noticed

He definitely did.

The next hit comes from a leather paddle, smoother than Roger’s hand, stinging a bit more though.

Roger delights in showing you how different they feel, hitting one cheek with the paddle and one with his hand before taking to you with just the paddle

slow slow FAST slow FAST FAST FAST FAST slow

you never sure when the next hit will come, just that it hurts when it does.

By now you’re crying. You held off as long as your could, blinking back tears when his palm came down on you particularly hard, but now, under the sting of the paddle you can’t stop them.

Roger pauses to check if you’re okay, saying you’re safeword and asking if you want to use it.

You say no, sure it hurts but it also feels really fucking good and you know he’ll make it worth it in the end.

“Okay, if you’re sure. You do look very pretty like this, mascara all over your face. Makes you look like a whore. So I’m going to give you a small break.”

The next hit is his hand on your breast followed by the paddle against your cunt, making you squeal and fall off balance again.

But he’s quick to sooth the slap, fingers spreading your wetness over your clit as he pulls another moan from you. You whine when he stops to spank you again.

“Aww, did you want me to keep playing with your drippy little pussy?”

“Ple-ase,”

“You want me to fill your cunt? stuff you full while I keep spanking you?”

“Y-es, yes, god, please Daddy,”

He slid two fingers into you, pumping them slowly in and out, adjusting his angle until you felt him caress your wall and you moan loudly.

“I’ve got a game for you to play,” he leaned into your ear to talk and you couldn’t help but shiver at his voice, “I’m going to put this,” he held up the paddle, “right here,” he pushed the handle into your cunt, fucking you with it briefly, “And you’re going to try not to drop it. Clear?”

“yes Daddy,”

“Good girl,”

He have you a moment to adjust before he brought the belt down on you.

You heard it before you felt it, half a second warning as it swung through the end and the leather collided with your already stinging arse.

Roger stepped close, rubbing the spot he just hit, “How was that?”

“I ca- I can take more,”

“Okay,” He pushed the handle of the paddle deeper into you, reminding you to keep a hold of it, and then he was stepping back again and taking aim with the belt.

It stung even more than the first time, making you howl, but you held onto the paddle.

Another pause, another bite from the belt, he noise of it moving through the air you’re only real warning that it’s coming.

“Aww, kitten, you dropped it.”

“I’m so-r-ry,” it’s more sob than sentence

“Hey, that’s okay, kitten,” Roger comes round to your front and cups your cheek, wiping away some of the tears with his thumb, “You’re doing so well, you held it for so long. I’m going to give you one more okay?”

You shake your head.

“No? You don’t want any more?”

“Not one. Three, Daddy. Give me three more. With the metal.”

“I’m not giving you three with the metal. This isn’t a punishment. I still want to fuck you afterwards and if I push you too far neither of us will be in the mood anymore.

“Okay, but I could take it.”

“I know you could but I don’t want you to. So, one with the metal.”

You nodded and took a deep, steadying breath. First the whistle, then the impact, then the sting. Except the impact felt different to before. The leather had left you with a duller pain the the sharp bite of the cool metal. You rocked forward on your toes with the force of it but righted yourself quickly, a couple extra sobs escaping you.

Roger dropped the belt where he stood and came back round to face you, his fingers of one hand dropping to rub your clit as he brought his other hand down on your arse twice more.

Your moan stuttered over sharply drawn breath with each spank but he kept going until you came from the stimulation.

“Good girl. Now, are you okay?”

“Yes Daddy, a bit sore but I’m still really horny.”

“Does that mean you’re ready for Daddy’s cock, Kitten?”

“Please,”

“Okay, hold your horses while I untie you.” As quickly as he could he loosened the knots in the rope, untying you from the ceiling though your wrists were still cuffed together.

Once you were free he pulled you over to the couch, pushing you down onto it.

He didn’t bother undressing, just pushed his pants down enough to pull his cock out, hard after seeing you a bound mess.

You whined when he slid into you from behind, grabbing your hips to pull you back into him.

Every thrust was slow and deep and had you panting in seconds.

Until he shifted his hands, grabbed your arse instead, fingers digging into the bruises and welts already forming.

You whimpered but you could feel your orgasm approaching, your whines turning to uncontrollable begging for Roger not to stop.

“You go-nna be a good slut and c-cum on my cock? Fuck, so wet. Nothing but a - a filthy whore, ge-tting off on being sp-anked like that.”

You came with a cry as he hit you a final time, the noise of the hit ringing through the room but then he was following you over the edge, pushing himself deep and staying here until he was done.

Once you were uncuffed and he was sure you felt okay he got you some cold packs and cream and took it upon himself to rub the cream over your bum, apologising every time you winced.

And then he asked you to stand long enough for him to lay on the couch so you could lay on top, your head on his chest, the cold packs balanced on your arse, still praising you for taking it all so well.

#my writing #my hc #roger taylor smut #roger taylor x reader #smut hc #woof #i amn a mess tbh #but also its nearly 1am so idk how much sense this makes #i hope it's okay #gonna answer a couple of the smaller things now #and then get back to these tomorrow #brigid's first birthday #Anonymous

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