#everything just feeling like a lump in the back of the throat
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hii!! i was thinking about some kinda angsty (?) smut where like, reader and whoever else (i thought about heeseung tbh) are fucking yk, reader is riding him but she’s too tired and just can’t let herself nor heeseung cum. hee would normally tease her and make her work for release but today he can sense that she’s not doing that well so he comforts her and switches positions to fuck her real good 🤗
(if you’re not comfortable with writing this it’s totally okay!! love you and your work :>)
im more than okay with this… i love it 👩🏽💻
you couldn’t stop thinking about it — it didn’t matter if it was five minutes ago or five hours ago: what those girls had said really hurt you. ‘what does he see in her…?’ their words really stuck...
it’s not like you were listening on purpose — maybe they couldn’t tell it was you from the back but the three of them were sitting directly behind you. it's not their faults. you told yourself — if they knew you were there they'd probably stop and maybe they'd apologize... you were only waiting for heeseung to get out of class — being alone made you feel even more self concious... you tried to calm yourself down as maybe they weren't talking about you...
i’ll be there soon babe :)
the text message put you at ease, until you heard what they had to say next. your anxiety shot through the roof hearing another one of the girls open their mouths. ‘no really! i’m glad you said something… heeseung just looks way too good compared to her.’ they could be talking about someone else right — maybe a classmate? you could hear their snickering and mocking laughter. 'maybe she's really smart — helping him pass his classes you know?' there's no way they weren't talking about you. your suspicions were only confirmed hearing another venomous accusation — this time with your name included. 'y/n must have insane luck..! because there's no way he'd actually love someone who looks as... well... like her.' everything felt wrong — your clothes were suddenly uncomfortable and it felt like everyone was watching you — they'd heard them too right? the girls weren't exactly quiet... god this was embarrassing.
'hey baby! sorry i'm late.' heeseung's voice broke your thoughts. the string of weary expressions in your head had burst and melted into nothing upon his arrival. you looked up as your gaze met your boyfriends. he had noticed your nervous features — the way that you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth and picked at your cuticles. 'you alright?' you weren't sure if heeseung had heard them but you really hoped not. you'd hate to embarrass him alongside yourself.
choking down the lump in your throat, you forced a smile... 'yeah hee...' you awkwardly smiled with glossed over eyes. 'i'm sure.' he still looked concerned — the grip on his bag seemingly tighter than before. 'here sit!' trying to reassure him you smiled even wider and thankfully it worked.
heeseung moved your bag sitting beside you as you two ate lunch together.
admittedly, throughout the rest of the day you felt a little down... what if those girls were right — was heeseung too good for you? did he actually like you? was he using you..? no heeseung wouldn't do that — you felt so stupid — you felt even stupider later that night as you two sat in his dorm room watching a movie. sure, you said you were fine... but heeseung still thought you were a bit off — you loved this film: usually you'd be giggling and engaging with the screen however tonight you laid unusually still with your head buried in the crook of his neck.
'baby...' worriedly, he rubbed your back, watching as you stared up at him with foggy eyes. 'are you sure you're feeling alright?' fuck... his hand moved to your forehead to check for any symptoms of physical distress. 'yeah baby. i promise.' heeseung's hand cupped your cheek as he lead you into a comforting kiss — a peck which you deepened — trying to distract him, before he could spout out any more questions. as always his lips were soft — they tasted like his chapstick as your tongue grazed the plushy flesh of his mouth.
heeseung returned your sudden embrace, leaning into your mouth as you begin to sit up straddling his lap. you lips collided and melted together as you two continued to make out — mouths exploring the vacancy of one another's.
your boyfriend's hands kneaded at your sides under your shirt as his fingers hooked under your bra unclasping it. the hardened buds of your nipples were now clearly visible through the thin cotton of your shirt... as heeseung hiked your shirt up over your boobs, you gasped as the cold air kissed your warm skin. you mirrored his actions, pulling his shirt over his head — however, the words kept repeating themselves in your head. even now, graced by your beautiful boyfriend's naked body... you were lost in the discomfort of insecurity and guilt.
you knew it'd be better to tell him. heeseung would know exactly what to say to comfort you. but now... now, you didn't want to think. you wanted to forget, and you had a few ideas how to do that. heeseung quickly rid himself of his pants and you of your own.
the friction of the fabrics separating both your sexes dawned over you as a wave of pleasure. it pinched your clit as you could feel the precum leaking through his boxers. 'heeseung...' you whimpered into his mouth as his hands firmly grasped your hips. he knows what you're doing — something is clearly wrong. 'come on, pretty girl, tell me what's the matter...' no matter how hard you tried you couldn't hide from him and you hated it. you broke down into tears. out of the blue, his sweetly flavored chapstick had a slight hint of saltiness as tears poured down your cheeks. 'don't hide from me, baby.' his hands held your own. 'fuck, hee... do you love me? you don't think i'm shitty — or that you're too good for me?'
'what?' his expression dropped. 'no... no, no, no, pretty girl. who said that hm? i love you... love you so much.' heeseung leaned in kissing away your tears as he firmly held you on his lap. 'let me take care of you, baby... please? 'don't ride me tonight — 'want to show you how much i love you.' he whispered. you nodded as the muscle of his biceps engulfed you, before gently lying your body beneath his own. heeseung's arms caged you in as his breathe fanned across your face. 'do you love me?' he asked. 'of course! how could i not... you're —' he interrupted your explanation diving into your lips.
he gently trailed sot kisses down the expanse of your body. 'going to fuck you so good sweetheart...' he kissed you again — and once more — again... 'treat you like a princess...' heeseung aligned his length with your sopping entrance his eyebrows knitted together in a furrow. 'so tight... perfect girl with perfect pussy for me...' your arms flew around his neck feeling his throbbing cockhead slip between your gummy walls. 'shit...' you mumbled into his shoulder as he continued to fuck himself deeper inside of your cunt. 'i'm all in, baby... 'feel good?' he slowly began to move, pumping his cock in and out of your heat. 'ah! heeseung...'
'shhh... it's okay... you're so pretty —prettiest girl alive... my pretty girl... should i mark you up?' he thrust. 'that way everyone knows your mine... let everyone know how much i fucking, love you.' with every snap and roll of his hips, you could feel the veins adorning his shaft prod at your gspot. his tip softly kissed your cervix as he began to pick up his pace.
he had you folded in half — thighs bent into your chest as you moaned and heavily called out his name. 'there you go... say my name again, princess. 'want everyone to hear it — 'want the guys and any bitch giving you shit to be talking about it tomorrow... how well i fuck you and how good you take it.' heeseung's praises went straight to your cunt — slick lathered around the base of his cock and your orgasm neared.
'think i'm going to cum...' you whined. 'yeah? good. go ahead pretty baby... cum all on my cock — want to see it yeah? feel how you clench around me and take everything hee gives you...'
i never know how to end these >< anyways, i hope you like ittt, hopefully i didn't get too angsty ^^
#lil-ma-shae#enhypen smut#enha smut#enhypen hard thoughts#enha hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#enha hard hours#lee heeseung smut#heeseung smut
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We Must Know, How Did it End?
“It was tricky, really. Writing songs that come from a place of pain isn’t usually my thing,” Sirius says, plastering a polite smile onto his face. “It’s difficult to describe a feeling that’s so… overwhelming.”
Peter smiles back, and Sirius can see the empathy etched across his face.
“Okay, I think we have time for some audience questions,” Pete says, turning to the audience. Sirius follows his gaze to a crew member handing a mic over to a young woman.
“Hi, uh, hi. I was just wondering if your album is based on your recent breakup? With Remus?”
His name alone makes the blood freeze in Sirius’ veins. The fan isn’t wrong, his album is essentially all about Remus. It doesn’t stop his heart from stuttering at the mention of Remus. It brings memories that he’s been trying to write out of his system back to the front of his mind. They bring a lump into his throat, and he has to blink harshly to fight back any semblance of a visceral reaction.
Thankfully, Peter steps in.
“You know what? Let’s move on. Anyone else?”
In spite of a few grumblings, the microphone travels further, landing with another fan.
“Hey. I was just wondering if you ever think that Remus dated you for the fame? I mean, his follower count has doubled since you two-”
“No, I don’t think that,” Sirius cuts in sharply. Apparently, his need to defend Remus is stronger than his hurt at their breakup. Peter is opening his mouth to speak, probably to move on again, but Sirius isn’t ready to move on. “Of course I don’t think that. Remus’ talent speaks for itself. He doesn’t need me to be his way to break out in the dance world. We might not be together anymore, but that doesn’t change the fact that he is still one of the most genuine people I have ever met. Honestly, his kindness is indescribable. Everything I said while we were together was true. That relationship was the realest thing I’ve ever had, okay? Us breaking up doesn’t diminish that.”
The whole studio has lapsed into silence, and Sirius is really regretting the way he went about that now. Even Peter’s watching him in shock. Eventually, he seems to remember his own job, clearing his throat and breaking out into a smile.
“Okay! It’s about time for us to move on…”
Sirius is pretty sure that he’s been in a trance for the past hour. He doesn’t even remember the trip back to his house. All he knows is that he’s been scrolling through his tagged posts as his manager, Benjy, shouts at him over the phone.
“This is, without a doubt, the most irresponsible thing you’ve ever done!”
“I didn’t think it was that bad,” Sirius grumbles under his breath. Unfortunately, Benjy has the ears of a fucking hawk.
“If you weren’t a public figure, and I wasn’t your fucking PR Manager, I would think it was sweet, Sirius! However, calling your relationship with Remus the realest thing you’ve ever had?! That gives tabloids every opportunity under the sun to call you obsessive!”
“Yeah, well, it needed to be said,” Sirius says decisively. He’s not wrong. In what world could anyone ever see Remus as anything less than kind? Yeah, they haven’t seen the way Remus would hold Sirius through his panic attacks, say the dumbest things just to watch him smile, or the dance. The one Remus dedicated to him. The one Sirius really should delete from his camera roll.
“God, Sirius, you’re so lucky that I actually like you.” Benjy interrupts his train of thought, thankfully, letting out a groan as Sirius refreshes Instagram for the fifteenth time. “However, now you need to lay low until people forget that this happened.”
“What? That I defended him? Just because he’s my ex doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to say anything nice about him!”
“Yes it does. You can’t say anything too bad, or anything too nice. You have to be neutral. Peter was about to gloss past the question, anyway!” Sirius rolls his eyes, grateful that Benjy can’t see him as he goes scrolling again. He’s being called obsessive in countless different ways by news outlets, people who hate him, and people who have decided that his and Remus’ breakup means that it’s time to take sides. As he looks through them, he’s barely even pausing.
Until he reaches a post with Remus’ face at the front of it.
As much as he knows that he shouldn’t, he wants to watch it. He’s spent a lot of time watching the videos he promised James that he’d deleted and crying, but those were videos Sirius had filmed himself. They were personal. He hasn’t interacted with anything that Remus has posted publicly. He doesn’t actually want to be a stalker.
This feels… different. Mostly because this one has his name on it.
‘REMUS LUPIN BREAKS SILENCE ABOUT EX BOYFRIEND SIRIUS BLACK:’
“Yeah, okay, Benjy, I’ll stay silent,” Sirius says quickly, zoning out.
“Oh, really? Thanks. That was easy-”
“Okay, bye.” He hangs up before Benjy can say anything else, immediately playing the video.
It’s from one of Remus’ livestreams. His face is flushed a slight red, like it usually is after rehearsal, sitting on the floor in his studio. Sirius hates how endearing he finds it. He’s just talking, comments rolling in and the radio playing, when Sirius catches the message. It’s just another one calling him a stalker, but it stops Remus in his tracks.
“Right, you all need to leave Sirius alone,” Remus says decisively. The way his name sits in Sirius’ mouth brings a lump into his throat all over again. He really needs to stop crying over Remus, it’s getting a little sad. Maybe he is obsessive. “He isn’t stalking me. I actually haven’t spoken to him at all. Listen, the- the breakup was amicable, okay? We don’t hate each other, and we really don’t need people taking sides. All he did was defend me, which he didn’t have to do. It was nice of him, yeah, but it doesn’t make him obsessive. He’s just being a good person, he can’t help that.” Sirius smiles to himself, face warming at the compliment.
Okay, he is obsessed.
Still, it’s so unbelievably Remus to be so willing to defend him. To immediately assume the best about Sirius.
Just when Sirius expects the clip to end, a different song starts playing. He recognises it straight away. It’s one from his new album.
‘ I told the moon about you… ’
Remus’ eyes widen at the words. At Sirius ’ words. He never has been any good at hiding the first thought that flits across his face.
“Sorry, I’m, er… I’ve got to go. Thanks for- for watching, yeah,” Remus says hurriedly.
That’s when the clip ends.
For what feels like the thousandth time, Sirius wants to be in the same room as Remus, to have the privilege of finding out exactly what is going on in his head. He wants to press his thumb against the furrow in Remus’ brow and watch his face relax. Christ, he just wants to touch him, really. His forehead, his hand, his shoulders, his waist, anywhere . With a groan, he drops his head into his hands. He’s actually pathetic. James is the only one who’s allowed to hear about this, and Sirius is pretty sure he needs a stern talking to from him right about now.
There’s a knock at his front door, which Sirius assumes is James. It’s like the man can read his mind. The knocking is a little… frantic, but James is bouncy, it’s not exactly out of the ordinary.
He walks slowly over to the door, reaching out and pulling it open.
The moment he catches a glimpse of the familiar amber eyes, every muscle in Sirius’ body freezes.
Remus.
He hasn’t seen him in three months. Not since he left Sirius’ house, got on a plane, and didn’t come back. Sirius has spent a countless number of minutes trying to recall every single detail about Remus, looking at photos of the two of them, wishing that he had spent more time etching every line, every freckle, into his brain. He thought he had, really, but he was right in his interview. Remus is indescribable.
For a moment, they just look at each other, Remus’ mouth slightly ajar as though he hadn’t expected Sirius to open the door. He almost seems like he doesn’t know how he got there.
Well, until Sirius speaks.
“M- Remus? What- what are you…?” He trails off, watching the way Remus’ features set to something much more sure.
“Sirius, I love you,” he says suddenly. They’re words Sirius never expected to hear coming from Remus again. “I’m still in love with you, and I’m tired of pretending that I haven’t regretted every single step that I’ve taken since I left here. I- God, Sirius, I think we made a mistake. I- I know what we said, what we agreed on. It was too difficult with our schedules, we were both being too distant, fighting over little things,” he lists everything like it’s pointless, as Sirius tries to get his brain to fucking wake up and work. “And I get it, Sirius. I really do get it, I understand, but I’d take thousands of fights over- over dishes, or hogging blankets, instead of having to do these months all over again. This is going to sound really sad, and really bloody pathetic, but I’ve watched the videos of you writing songs in my flat more time than I can fucking count since we broke up! You told the moon about me? I know that line. I’d know it anywhere. It’s the one right before I turned the camera off and kissed you. It just made me- I don’t know, I didn’t think hearing it like that would hurt so much.” He seems to be hit with a completely different emotion, some sense of regret, and it’s probably Sirius’ fault, since he doesn’t seem to be able to get his voice to work. He can sing night after night, go on countless talk shows, but apparently this is what it takes to render Sirius speechless. “I know I’m probably overstepping a boundary, and this is really fucking stupid of me, but I- I want to try again.”
Yeah, the words really aren’t going to come out. He’s going to have to find some other way to tell Remus exactly how he feels.
“If I didn’t say something I just know that I’d regret it for the rest of my life. So tell me to leave and I will. I’ll turn around and- and I’ll move country. You’ll never have to see me again-”
He can’t say anything else, because Sirius is kissing him.
He isn’t even sure when he made the decision to do it. It’s almost like a reflex, the first thing to come naturally to him.
There’s not a second of regret that comes with it, though.
Before he can even figure out where he got the idea to do that, Remus’ arms are around Sirius’ waist, pulling him closer and holding him secure, warm, safe . His lips are soft, so familiar that Sirius wants to cry.
Actually, he is crying.
Tears start rolling down his face as he pulls away to look at Remus. Thankfully, Remus is crying himself, and somehow also grinning like an idiot, which Sirius can genuinely say is the most beautiful sight he has ever had the privilege to behold.
“Oh, my god, I love you, Remus. Moony, I love you so much,” he says quickly, hands reaching to cup Remus’ face.
“So- you- do you want-?”
“To start again? Pick up from where we left off? Anything, darling. Anything. I’ll take whatever you can give me, if it means I don’t have to try to move on. You’re not someone I can get over. I’ve tried, and I’m convinced that it’s fucking impossible,” Sirius says, making Remus laugh breathlessly and drag him back into a kiss. Not that Sirius is complaining. He would let Remus drag him anywhere. Remus is his everything. His world.
Oh, my darling, how could I ever have let you go?
#it's been a WHILE since i've written a oneshot#and I'm also not sure what this is#but I lowkey love it#they're so silly#wolfstar#sirius black#wolfstar oneshot#marauders#remus lupin#remus x sirius#young marauders#moony x padfoot#atyd marauders#marauders oneshot
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could i request a chenle x idol male reader fic where dispatch catches them on a date and exposes them as a couple
𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗈! 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀!
𝗰𝗮𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁 - 𝗓𝗁𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗇𝗅𝖾
𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗒𝖾𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝗏𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝖺 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝖾𝗂𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗅𝗌 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟦 𝖻𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗈 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖽
○▹ 𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗅 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗇𝗅𝖾 𝗑 𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗅 𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 (𝖿𝗍. 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁, 𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗏, 𝗌𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗇, 𝗇𝖼𝗍 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆) 𝘄𝗰. 𝟨𝟢𝟪 𝘄 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁, 𝗀𝖺𝗒, 𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗇𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍, 𝗆𝖺𝗒𝖻𝖾 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗈𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽
Distraught, that’s the main emotion Chenle felt at that moment. It felt like the world had collapsed around him and slowly started to tear into him, seemingly leaving a gaping chasm in his chest right where his heart used to beat rhythmically.
He felt that lump sits at the base of his throat, begging and pleading to come up in the form of acidy vomit. The sounds around him evaporated into muffled noise like he was being drowned, he felt like he was being drowned and the one thing that brought him to was the soft gentle touch on his shoulder. That one touch is what broke the tension in his shoulders, he could slowly feel the fear and anger dissipate. God, how could he have been so stupid.
He couldn’t help but feel like this was all his fault. I mean he is currently in promotions every move he makes is being honed in like he’s the main attraction at a zoo, he knew going out was risky yet all he wanted to do was see his boyfriend, is that too much to ask? He finally had a day off, the first one in weeks, and just because some guys who couldn’t find anything better to do than ruin idols' lives decided to show up he was the one to blame. They just couldn’t leave him and his boyfriend alone.
Chenle could slowly feel the anger growing steadily, the gentle touch on his back moving quietly in time with his growing emotions to tightly grasp his hand. Finally having the courage to look up for the first time in the droning meeting, and god he didn’t regret it, just meeting those perfect brown eyes; speckled with gold almost as if honey was swirling in his iris, those plump rosy lips curving up into an unnoticeable smile, and the cheeks dusted in light freckles, curly hair brushing his forehead and running down the nape of his neck like a veil a beautiful, blush pink veil that made those eyes he loved pop.
The managers in the room began to stop their rambling, noticing the one the meeting was for was no longer listening. They could see the love pouring out of the young man's eyes as if he was willing for his partner to take everything from him even his heart and he would just follow him to the ends of the earth, the managers weren’t stupid they could see the romance between the two it wasn’t just a fling and they doubted this ‘scandal’ would break what they had and they were glad. For the first time in years, they’ve seen their two idols truly happy, truly joyous and now they don’t know if each other was the cause but they can see they played apart.
In the following hours, both SM Entertainment and Starship Entertainment put out statements regarding their idols.
“Chenle of NCT Dream and M!Reader of Cravity are in a relationship and have been seeing each other for 2 years we wish them the best and hope fans do the same”
Both fans and idols alike were shocked the first openly gay idol couple had been revealed and many were truly happy for the two, although like many situations there was a ton of hate yet both companies took action and dealt with any malicious comments.
Several weeks had passed since the news broke out, and the couple was doing well. They didn't have to hide anymore and were over the moon. I mean, who wouldn't be? Getting caught and being in love, at this point, who cares what others think when you have each other? You're in love at this point who cares what others think.
𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀!!! 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺 𝖻𝗂𝗀 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄 𝖨 𝖺𝗆 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗐...
#kpop#gay#kpop male reader#kpop x male reader#kpop x male#chenle#chenle x reader#zhong chenle#chenle x male reader#nct dream#nct dream imagines#nct dream x reader#nct x male reader#bxb
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we can't be friends | draco malfoy
pairing: draco malfoy x reader | genre: friends to lovers | warning: angst, minors dni | word count: 1.9k | stefy's note: this my first ever fic of draco cause man I DO HAVE A THING FOR VILLANS, so enjoy :)
[ BACK TO MASTERLIST ]
Words had always been left unsaid between Draco and you. One night in Fifth Year, he figured if he told you he had a small crush on you, he could get over it. He just didn’t expect you to say you had one back. Or for him to kiss you, and you kiss him back. It made his world crumble before his eyes.
Yet, he made you promise that was a one time thing, and he himself would want to stay friends and act like nothing happened. Which, worked, but he found himself only confiding in you for things.
As usual you were laying on the bed, at your dorm, reading without checkinh the clock. In the same time you were worried about Draco and everything that he has been dealing with lately.
There was a quiet knock at your dorm room door. Your dormmates never knocked. A bit of a pause. A knock again. That was definitely Draco's hand. He was knocking quietly, trying not to startle you. No doubt he wasn't really allowed to be there, but his mind and heart wouldn't allow him to walk away. He needed you, and right now he needed you in a way that he would never admit.
Getting up, closing the block and leaving it aside you. That's when you go to open the door, knowing that it might be Draco.
He was standing there in the dim moonlight, shadows obscuring his face. With his usual, perfect posture, arms crossed, the shadows made him look all the more intimidating. He could sense your presence before he ever saw you, but he was surprised by how soft your footsteps were as you walked down the room. Not a single noise was made that wasn't from his breath or his heartbeat. He looked...different. More vulnerable than usual, almost nervous but still his usual self.
"Is everything ok?" You look at him curiously, worried about what happened. "Did something happen?"
He wasn't expecting you to open the door so quickly in reply. His heart skipped a beat, and his gaze was now glued to you. He was trying his best to keep his voice calm and steady, although he was shaking slightly, and it was pretty clear as to why. When he spoke, he cleared his throat, his tone of voice was as stiff as his body language, his hands in his pockets as usual. "Yes. I just needed to talk to you. May...? May I come in?"
"Sure, come in." You say while moving aside for him to enter the room. Still being confused and worried about what might have happened at this hour.
The door closed behind him, and in the room were now just the two of you. Without taking out his hands from his pockets, he started speaking once more. Again, his voice was as cold and stiff as his demeanor. However, for a small moment, he felt himself relax as he glanced down to the ground. He noticed that you were looking a little tired and a bit confused, but he pushed that aside. "Right...can I sit?"
"Sure." You say, taking a seat next to him ans being prepare to listen to what he has to say.
His heart was beating faster. He could almost feel it. His entire body was trembling now, but he was trying his best to hide his nerves. His breath was quickening, and he wanted to keep his hands steady, but they were shaking. Still...he did not hesitate to take a seat next to you. He then spoke, his voice still as stiff and cold as before, only this time there was a slight...shake. His eyes were fixed on the ground, trying to look anywhere but at you.
That's when you took his face in your hands, making him look at you. "Draco...talk to me...what is it?"
He freezes for a moment. The sound of his breathing suddenly quickened. Your touch was sending shivers down his spine, but he was trying to hide it as much as possible. He swallowed the lump in his throat and glanced up at you. Those familiar blue-grey eyes gazing back at him, the touch of your hands almost calming him. A few moments passed. "Can I ask you something..?"
"Yes" You nod, looking at him and still holding his face in your hands.
He swallows the massive lump in his throat again, his voice shaky and low but his eyes never leaving yours. You had a good heart, he knew that, and he knew that he did trust you. Still...what he was about to ask was completely and utterly irrational. His stomach was in knots from his nerves. You must've known he was nervous, because normally he never was around you. He wanted to say so many things, but all he could manage was a single question. "Can I stay here tonight..?"
"Of course." You smile looking at him. "I'll have to get you a blanket and a pillow or if you don't mind..." You feel your words trail off. "You can stay with me...i mean in my bed."
His heart felt like it was about to explode from its chest. He was trying to stop himself from smirking. He was about to agree to something completely insane. And he was completely and utterly aware of it. Yet when you spoke, the words came crashing down on him. The words that were not even a second ago the last thing he thought you would offer him. "...are you sure...? You don't mind..?"
"If you manage to keep your side of the bed, there shouldn't be any problem." You say giggling a bit, trying to lighten up the mood.
He couldn't help but let out a small laugh. Your joking manner was certainly helping him calm down, even if it was just by a bit. Still, the fact that he was allowed back into your bed made his heart beat faster again. And the thought of you and him being right next to each other all night long. "Trust me, I won't complain. At all."
"Well let's get you to bed." You say as you get up. "Before Spane starts to see that we are past curefew." You say laughing a bit, still trying to lighten up the mood.
He chuckled slightly, his laugh being just a bit more genuine than before. He got up and looked up at you, now his entire face was more...expressive than usual. "Aye, yes...I imagine he would be pretty pissed after a certain hour. I would hate for you to be punished just for me."
"That won't happen." You said smiling and looked at him, taking a deep breath. "And even if it happens we can always use our wands."
He laughed again, although the laughter was now even more sincere. The fact that you weren't afraid to break a few rules was something he had always appreciated about you before. He then smirked, he could do with a little rule-breaking that night if it meant spending time with you. "Right...I forgot. A lot of things can be dealt with a few spells and magic. Especially with our wands. But...we should still be careful about things, right..?"
The two of you were sharing a bed, with a pillow between the two of you, keeping your or him from making any moves. Your back was facing him, as you were dressed in yout casual nightgown. Keeping your eyes closed was the only mechanism from you to try the ignore the closeness you were in.
The two of you were lying there, a thick blanket covering the both of you, while a thin pillow kept you as separate as possible. To be honest, he was trying as hard as possible not to touch you or get close to you in any way whatsoever. He was trying to stay calm, relax, and try not to do something so utterly insane and reckless. Yet your closeness alone was driving him crazy, let alone the fact that you were right next to him. It would take a lot of willpower to keep his hands to himself.
You turn around to talk to him, but all you manage to say is. "Draco..." You whispered, hoping not to wake him up.
He froze in his spot, as still as a statue. His heart had nearly stopped beating as soon as he heard your voice. He knew that you were still awake, as he was still awake as well. He hadn't fallen to sleep or dozed off at all. His eyes stayed fixed on the ceiling. His breath had quickened slightly. He wanted to speak, but the sound of his voice would give away how nervous he was. All he managed was a whisper back. Your name. "Yes..?"
"Why are you here?" You whisper back to him. "And i know it's not because you came here to sleep..." You added coming closer to him, keeping yourself from touching him.
He felt you move closer to him. His entire body was trembling now, and his blood was coursing through his veins. Was he really doing this? Of course, he was doing this, he couldn't back out of this now. Your question could be heard loud and clear. He swallowed again, his voice shaky and weak. "I...I didn't want to be alone tonight...and to be perfectly honest...I felt like I needed...well..."
"What is it?" You asked coming closer to him, touching his face and caressing his cheek lightly.
His breath hitched as you touched his cheek. He was trying so hard not to break his own rule. He was trying so hard not to lean towards you. The warmth of your hand on his face sent shivers down his spine. He swallowed again, his throat still tight. "Tonight...I felt like I needed...you...and only you..."
"I'm here." That's when you forget about all the rules that the two of you had in mind. Moving the pillow from between both of you, you come closer to him.
All caution and self-restraint was thrown out the window as soon as you grabbed the pillow and tossed it out. He could feel his heartbeat getting louder with each step, and it was clear as day that this was the last point of no return. No matter what happened now, it would change things completely. You didn't have any rules in mind anymore. Neither did he. You were just a few centimeters away, close enough where you could kiss him. Too close. His hand reached up to touch your face, gently.
You leaned into his touch closing your eyes and started breathing heavily as the two of you were so close to each other. His entire body was shaking when you leaned into his hand. When you closed your eyes, it was that moment he was waiting for. He reached the other hand under your chin and slowly, but firmly drew you towards him. His eyes never left yours as he made you lean in closer to him. The distance between the two of you was now...millimeters until your lips met.
© SLYTHERINOBSESSED — do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.
#Spotify#draco malfoy#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy x y/n#draco malfoy x you#draco malfoy x female reader#slytherin#slytherin boys#slytherin x reader#slytherin imagine#draco x reader#draco x y/n#draco x you#draco x female reader
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See No Shame | Part 2
Summary: You and Nanami were only seeing each other for three months. You eventually wanted more but of course they always say “don’t be someone second choice” in a man life.
Pairing: Billionaire! Nanami Kento x Female Reader
Warnings: cursed words
Author note: second part of this mini-series is here! I like writing for this. If you like you can reblog, comment but enjoy reading!
Part 2
Three months went by fast when you used to be around Nanami a lot. You didn’t care what he did and how rich he was at all. You just wanted to be around him all the time but now everything changes between you and him.
Sometimes you can't bring yourself to cry about him anymore even though your heart still beats for him. You tried to avoid him after he didn’t want to deal with you like that anymore but he only calls or texts you when she is not around.
For the past few weeks you only took shifts at the library when you thought it was necessary. You didn’t want to face Nanami again and cry about him some more.
You were trying so hard to get over he doesn’t feel the same about you but Tiffany kept sending you articles about him with Ariel nonstop. Of course Tiffany would send you a whole text message about how Ariel isn’t shit at all. You would laugh at anything she sends you with a comment.
Ignoring Nanami calls and text messages is all you have been doing for the last few days. You couldn’t bring yourself to cry about him anymore. You are regretting going to Yu Haibara party since he is Nanami's best friend.
You placed the gift you got for him on the table with a bunch of other gifts. “Don’t look now but Nanami is here with Ariel.” Tiffany whispers next to you.
You sigh and roll your eyes. “It seems like they came matching tonight.” She whispers to you again.
Fucking great
It shouldn’t be a surprise for you that Nanami was here at all. Yu and Nanami have always been close since their high school days. They always say fake it until you make it.
You made your way to the other side of the room as Tiffany followed right behind you. You greeted some people you knew but didn’t chat with them for long. You pour yourself some champagne into a tall clear glass cup as you hear a voice behind you. “Y/N and Tiffany.”
That whiny and flat voice, you only heard three times. “Ariel.” You gave Tiffany her tall clear glass cup as you turned around with a fake smile on your face.
“Wow, small world.” Tiffany clears her throat and takes a sip of her drink.
Ariel looks stunning wearing a purple body-con dress that shows her curves. You thought she was dressed up going to a club.
Ariel grabs tall clear glass from one of the butler’s who was handing them out on a tray. “How are you, Y/N?” She takes a swig of her drink.
“I’m good.” The only thing you said to her.
Tiffany jumps right in the conversation. “I’m good too. Work is killing me.”
Everyday you thank god for Tiffany because you have no idea where you would be without her.
You excuse yourself and walk around the place. You had to admit Yu always knew how to throw a party. You stop to admire one of the paintings on the wall when a raspy voice can be heard behind you. “Hello, Y/N.”
Suddenly your heart was racing fast as fuck.
Shit, Shit
“Yu, got that painting of his beautiful mom for Mother’s Day three years ago.” He says standing next to you.
You take another sip of your drink before speaking. “Hi and it’s beautiful.”
Nanami nods, placing both of his hands behind his back. “Hmm, I also want to say I–” You interrupted him as you locked eyes with him. “Don’t apologize. I am happy for you and Ariel.”
Fuck! It hurts for you to say that
A piece of your heart felt like it was being ripped apart again. You told yourself you had to say it in order to move on from him. You let out a breath while feeling a lump in your throat.
“Um. Thanks.” He muttered.
You squeezed his shoulder. “Happy looks good on you Nan.” You look at him again before making your way back to Tiffany.
You truly need to stop lying to yourself for once. For now you feel like a complete idiot when you know you didn’t mean those words to him.
You cough getting her attention, setting your empty tall glass down on the table. “I want to leave.” You hate the way you are feeling right now.
“Y/N, don’t take her away from me.” Gojo pouts while squeezing her cheeks with his palm.
You scoff and shake your head. “Nice to see you too, Gojo.” Sometimes you can't stand Gojo at all. He acts like a child half the time.
Tiffany gave him a kiss on the cheeks and followed right behind you out the front door. “What’s wrong? What did Nanami do? Is it Ariel?”
You let out a loud whine and start rambling. “I told him I was happy for his relationship.”
Tiffany smacks your arm playfully. “Now, why would you tell him that lie? We both know you are not over that man.”
You sigh. “I know. I know.”
She embraced you with a hug and rubs your back gently. “Look, I love you but you need to stop running away from him. Fuck Ariel.” She continues. “He doesn’t deserve you and he still can’t see it.”
You stood there listening to her as she pulled away from you. “Y/N, learn to feel your feelings then eventually brush it off.” Her eyes focused on you.
You understand what she was saying but it is hard for you to do that. You never saw yourself brushing off the feelings you have for this man. Your heart still beats for him and that’s scary.
“Oh my god.” You felt completely sick.
Tiffany hates seeing you like this over someone who just ended things with you three months ago. She never saw you act like this over guy before.
She opened her mouth to comment when you felt your phone vibrate against the pocket of your black jeans. You pull your phone out and a text message from Nanami on the screen.
Nanami: I don’t want you out of my life, Y/N
Nanami: I love you
Your eyes widened, those three words shocked you completely.
Is he serious?
“What happened?” Tiffany asked.
You turn your phone off and put it back in your black jeans pocket. “You can stay. I’ll just go home by myself.” You take the car keys out of her purse.
Tiffany gave you a side eye glance. “You sure?” She can see right through you that there was something you aren’t telling her.
“Yeah, tell gojo to take you home. I want to take a walk first.” You gave her a hug and then began walking down the block.
Taking your phone out of your pocket, you continue walking while rereading Nanami messages a couple of times. You notice three dots appear for a second and then he sends another message.
Nanami: let’s talk soon, I want to take you somewhere ❤️
#nanami kento#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami kento x fem!reader#nanami kento x y/n#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x female reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x fem!reader#jjk x y/n#jjk nanami#nanami x reader#jujutsu nanami#nanami x you#nanami x fem!reader#nanami x y/n
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Any new headcanons brewing in your head after seeing Alycia at the AACTA
Not... entirely
But I've had thoughts. Bear with me.
I'm not even remotely the person to write something like this at all, but it definitely did have me thinking of a SORT OF SHOEH-esque type fic. Something involving them being closeted and in Hollywood. Getting their flowers for their talent and being in love, but having to keep it quiet their entire careers. I've seen some fics along this line here and there, but inevitably in the fic, one or both eventually come out on stage or something.
Which is great! That's a lovely and hopeful ending.
But also....
Not entirely realistic.
Or even half as heartwrenching.
"Well yeah jesus fuck, why do you want sad shit Andi, why are you always such a glutton for punishment and literary pain?"
Well I'll tell you why: cuz... shut up
Idk it just got me thinking of Clexa as two Hollywood starlets on kind of differing ends of the spectrum of Hollywood that in the public eye are generally never really thought about together.
Lexa tends to do more gritty work, a lot more indie films. Dark threaded moody pieces and emotional roles, not generally thought of as box office fodder, but pretty much always a contender at awards season. Sleeper hits, you get me. Things like that. She definitely has a well known name, but she's selective in her work and that gains her a lot of respect with fans, even if they have to sometimes wait 2-3 years between projects. Because whatever she signs on for, it's pretty much always really fucking good. Whereas Clarke is more of a mainstream girly. She does a decently broad spectrum of films, but they're by and large always ones with bigger budgets, bigger release dates, more screens. It's not that they're not quality pictures, it's just that Clarke likes to work a broad range of things. One year she's in a comedy, the next a period piece, the next action. There's no real labeling her career.
And most importantly, they're both very, very straight.
At least, their personas are.
Alexandria is a smoky eyed femme fatale who leaves all the men eating out of the palm of her hand. Very "Look but don't touch" attitude that adds to her allure, to her mystery, despite her always being attached to leading man's arm. Miss Griffin is the picture of buxom Hollywood glam that every guy has on the List. Known for leaving a string of broken hearted men in her wake with little more than a cheek kiss-stained in signature red lipstick
Lexa and Clarke though?
Lexa and Clarke are two friends who have been deeply in love and committed to each other for the better part of 5 years.
They love each other in secret because that's what they feel like they have to do. They have two seperate houses with two separate addresses, and only one bed they actually sleep in.
It only really burns on the big nights, which I think would be an interesting oneshot. Just a glimpse into their life and what it feels like in that moment. The night when all their work and their sacrifices are being honored. Because even though, yes, they do play the part of friends and manage to sit near each other, it's not the same. It's not the same when they can't get ready together or even show up in the same car. When they have to remind themselves not to lean into each other too often, or even reach for the others hand to calm their nerves.
When one wins, they walk up alone without a hug or kiss from the only person who actually matters. They thank their families and their friends and their management that they can barely stand half the time, and remind themselves to smile like it's the happiest moment of their life even though at least half it all feels like a lie. Because yeah, they get lonely in the months when projects and shooting schedules pull them to opposite sides of the globe... but somehow those months never feel quite as lonely as being in a room filled with people who act like they adore you, while the love of your life sits quietly with her own "date" half an aisle away
#anon#*loads shotgun* i will block any Elycia shippers or G*ylors on sight I'm sorry but I will ಠ_ಠ this ISN'T about that#that pic of Alycia looking at the stage just made me think of like a oneshot#of one of then having to watch the other win their award and being so proud and so in love#and so utterly unable to do anything with all those feelings in the moment#just the swells of conflicting emotion as they come as they watch their lover and friend and confidant being celebrated#and knowing this is what they both chose and both want#and knowing they'll have their chance when they get home#but in the moment#everything just feeling like a lump in the back of the throat#starlet au
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Ashamed of having basic human needs pt 2🥵
#where do i go with my feeling?with all the things i have to say? lately it just feels like im overflowing and it doesn't matter it doesn't#matter as long as others dont get their feet wet#im cryinf and my brain tells me dont make this about yourself you selfish asshole#then what do i make about myself? why does thinking about feeling and having my feelings acknowledged hurt more than the feeling part itsel#its about my aunt who broke her foot its about my.mom ajd all the hurt she has its about my dad and his lonliness its about everything wher#where.do i come in?.#it always feels like im making people uncomfortable when i talk to them#so i dont#but im#im all alone in this hurt#something significant happened to me and it doesn't matter think about others madiha how selfish coulr you be it doesn't matter what thid?#yeah this and anything else that's related to you#insignificant#your hurt snd your anger and your guilt and your frustration sit in them until they fade.out#come back when they have vanished#come.back when you can talk without the lump in your throat
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Price, price and more price🌸🩵
Imagine being John’s pen pal. It’s starts off so innocent, strangers, with you intent on staying that way after a recent nasty break up with a rather nasty man.
You just wanted something to take your mind off of everything while you wallowed away in self pity. Your work had sent you home for a month, said you needed time to heal and get your mind right.
So here you were with nothing to do when one of your friends suggested being a pen pal. And who of all people were to take up your request but John Price.
A simple, name, favourite colour and asking how his day was going was all you wrote. He replied with exactly what you’d asked word for word. Very straightforward and almost strategic and of course asked you the same things.
Then it was age, favourite food and how tall he was. A little description of his face. And again he replied with exactly that. You knew then that you’d have to work hard to get more out of him.
The weeks went by and slowly but surely, John began to become looser. Open up more. Genuinely talk to you. It helped not only you start to heal but also help John heal. He didn’t even know he needed to heal in any way. Maybe the loneliness, the fighting, the pain, the emotionlessness had finally caught up to him.
Work decided you still weren’t ready which was quite honestly bullshit, that’s what you told John anyway. He completely agreed and asked for your manager’s name and social security number. You thought it was a joke, he wholeheartedly wanted to teach the man a lesson.
This week you decide to paint the spare bedroom in your apartment and you told John all about it. You felt almost giddy as you sent letters back and forth deciding paint colours. He loved the domesticity of it all, felt like his little woman was asking what colour to paint a shared home while she waited for him to return. What he wouldn’t give….
He loved the little things like that. Loved when you’d tell him about what you were getting from the grocery store and he’d suggest something he thinks is good. Loved when you’d tell him about a new outfit you bought. He’d tell you how much he’d love to see it and how he bets you look beautiful.
You feel ecstatically nervous when he asked for your phone number. You obviously gave it to him. Impatiently you waited, staring at your phone for it to ring. When it did you jump up, palms sweaty, lump in your throat, heart beating so loud you could heard it in your head…then you pressed answer.
“Hi love.”
“Hi John.”
#squishycheekanon#cod price#captain john price x reader#captain price smut#captain price x reader#captain john price x you#captain price x reader smut#captain price x y/n#captain john price#captain price#captain johnathan price#john price x y/n#john price x oc#john price x reader#john price#price smut#price x reader#price#cod fluff#cod smut#call of duty smut#call of duty#cod fic#cod fanfic
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thinking about arguing with husband!gojo. it’s funny because he’s the strongest sorcerer alive with several other, more wicked enemies harboring one sided hate for him, yet he’s anxiously glancing at you every now and then as you hiss at him. you’re the only one who can make him doubt his strength.
he usually finds you cute when you’re mad, but right now he doesn’t really appreciate the way your face is scrunched up and how you’re yelling at him.
it’s not his fault. he thinks you’re being so dramatic.
“you’re laughing at me,” you deadpan. “why do you never take things i say seriously?”
“because i honestly don’t think it’s that serious,” he fires back, and your eyes narrow. oh, fuck.
arguing with your husband is never fun. it’s probably because the both of you are stubborn; you’re stubborn because you’re simply right all the time, and satoru’s stubborn because if you’re not right, then he is.
you pause for just a second, but it’s enough to sprout a moment of extreme tension between you and your husband.
“right,” you scoff after you inhale sharply. “you just don’t care, do you?”
“don’t fucking say that,” satoru snaps. “i do care. that’s why i’m here.”
it takes everything in you to not shoot him another death glare. “so i should be thankful for the bare minimum?”
satoru blinks. he would’ve flinched, but he refuses to let you have that sort of power over him. “i’m not giving the bare minimum.”
“yes you are,” you argue back, voice straining as you swallow a lump of anger down the back of your throat.
the both of you are still. it feels like an eternity passes before the anger in you wanes. you’re exhausted and this fight with satoru is surely going to make the both of you upset enough to not talk for the rest of the night.
“i’m sorry that i’m not good enough,” satoru says, breaking the silence. you’ve never heard his voice so small, so pathetic—he’s never, ever shown you this side of him, and you’re starting to feel that dreading pit of guilt tug at your gut.
“that’s not what i meant,” you force yourself to say, sighing.
“but that’s what you’re thinking,” satoru mumbles. he avoids looking at your face.
“no it’s not,” you deny. “it’s never been about that.”
satoru gives you a wary look. “then what is it about? because i’ve done everything i can.”
“everything? really?” you sneer. “do you even love me anymore?”
silence. satoru swears he can hear your heart break.
“baby, don’t say that,” he groans, “c’mon, we were ten points away from three stars. that’s a single plate—one you didn’t turn in because you somehow forgot how to dash!”
you whip around to glower at satoru, your face twisting into an offended expression. “you set the kitchen on fire! how could i do something like serving a dish if the kitchen is on fire?!”
“baby, it’s the same button that it always has been this entire game!” he whines. “and you set the kitchen on fire! you keep forgetting to take the rice off the stove!”
you sigh exasperatedly, crossing your arms to act like some sort of shield between you and satoru’s (truthful) words.
“but you don’t chop up your stupid fish!” you protest. “so i end up doing five things at once!”
satoru opens his mouth to speak, but he knows you’re in the right. he opts to click his tongue instead.
“and every time i asked for help,” you add, frowning, “you just kept bringing out more of the dumbass cucumbers! we don’t have counter space for that!!!”
“that’s for prep to maximize our sushi making! throw it on the floor!”
“are you kidding me? that’s so unsanitary!”
“it’s a game!”
you’re both panting by the end of the fight. you’re biting down on your inner cheek and satoru is scratching the nape of his neck awkwardly.
“… sorry,” he mumbles. “i won’t bring out cucumbers anymore. and i’m also sorry for being mean about you not knowing how to dash.”
“good,” you huff. “‘cause i was seriously not gonna play anymore.”
“and…?” he prods, nudging you in your ribs. you can tell what he wants just by the sound of his voice.
“and i’m sorry for getting mad at you even though you’re doing you’re best at carrying me in this game…” you murmur, rolling your eyes.
satoru’s face brightens and he places a wet kiss on your cheek. “you’re forgiven.”
“love you, dummy.”
“love you too, baby.”
“no more cucumbers unless the ticket calls for them,” you remind him pointedly.
“yes, chef!”
#satoru gojo#gojo satoru x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojou satoru x you#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x reader
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Be Mean To Me
Pairing: Bucky x f!reader
Summary: After a long day at work, you just want to lose all control and have your boyfriend fuck you into oblivion
Warnings: Established relationship, slight angst, fluff, smut, mean!dom!bucky, reader asks for it, they are so in love, rough sex, dom/sub dynamics, oral (male receiving), ball sucking, slapping, spit kink?, degradation, humiliation, name calling (slut, whore, bitch, sugar, good girl), daddy kink, some praise, spanking, pussy slapping (like once), safe word (yellow), vaginal sex, no prep anal, Bucky has a huge dick, choking, aftercare, check-ins, crying during sex, crying after sex, soft!Bucky, no mention of Y/N, no description of reader other than being female
Word Count: 4.9k of mostly smut
A/N: This was very self indulgent. Work has been kicking my ass and I want to be taken care of. Any mistakes are my own. If I missed any warnings please let me know. @bucknastysbabe it's done! I think I should go back to therapy. But hey, smut
You feel your throat tighten as you walk up to the apartment you share with Bucky. It was one of those days that left you beaten down and wanting to curl up under your blankets and cry. You didn’t even want to go into work this morning, having to force yourself to get ready. Too many rude customers, incompetent coworkers giving you more work than you get paid to do, everything leaving you overstimulated and wanting your boyfriend.
It left a craving deep down inside of you, a want that you knew only he could quell. You just wanted to shut your brain off, have Bucky take care of you, ruin you, treat you like a whore, break you down, just to put you back together again.
You swallow the lump in your throat and unlock the front door, finding Bucky on the couch watching some random action movie that he claimed to hate. At the sight of him your body naturally relaxes and the urge to crawl onto his lap is too much to bear.
“Hey, sugar. I’ve been missing you all day. You’ll never fucking believe the video Sam sent me of Tony trying out his new thrusters! He flew rig- What’s wrong?” He perked up at the sound of the door opening, truly missing his girl. Whenever you’re around him his entire day gets better, a lightness filling his chest, but when he sees how run down you are, his heart literally hurts for you. Bucky wants to protect you from everything, from supervillains all the way to spiders in the house.
“Long day, baby. Just wanna be with you.” He opens his arms and you instantly crawl into his lap, eyes burning with tears you refuse to shed. He runs his metal hand up and down your back, pulling you as close to him as possible, while his flesh hand rests on your head, holding you to his neck, letting you breathe him in.
“What can I do for you, sugar? Want to talk about it? I can order from your favorite place. Can run you a bath. Whatever you want, sweet girl.”
“Please, be mean to me, Bucky.” Bucky feels his heart clench in his chest. He wants to keep your heart safe from whatever it is that is plaguing you, but he knows he can’t. What he can do is follow your request and make you forget.
“How mean do you want me, sugar?” Bucky has done this for you a few times. He always asks how you want him to treat you. It’s in his nature to be sweet to you, fill you with praise, but that's not what you want right now. You want to be degraded and treated like a fucktoy.
“Mean.” You keep your eyes trained on him. This is the only part where you need to keep your head on, make sure that he knows you want this.
“Remember your colors, sugar?” You nob, excitement bubbling up inside of you. “Remember, daddy will only be upset with you if you don’t use them. If you need to say yellow or red, you will.” His tone is final. This is the only way he would ever agree to treating you like a slut.
“Yes, daddy.” And just like that, Bucky’s entire demeanor changes. He goes from your sweet, cuddly boyfriend to a cold and callous body of muscle.
“Then take your clothes off, slut.” He pushes you off his lap, just hard enough to give the illusion of indifference. As you strip, Bucky keeps his eyes trained on the TV, not paying you any mind. Your core throbs at the fact that you are completely exposed while he is still fully dressed.
“On your knees.” He’s still not looking at you, but you obey without thought, willing to do whatever he wants. Grabbing the back of your neck, he forces you in between his spread legs, and you whine at the fact that his cock is still soft inside his sweats. Any other day, Bucky would make sure that your knees were never on the hardwood floor without a pillow or something soft underneath, but not today.
On days like these, when you want to feel completely submissive, it takes Bucky a while to get aroused. It’s in his nature to love up on you, make you drunk with pleasure in the sweetest way possible. He feeds off of your energy. When he is sure that you are having fun, his body lets himself fall into his role.
“What? You think at the first signs of some tits I’m gonna get hard? I knew you were a dumb slut but I didn’t realize just how thick you were.” Your pussy was absolutely pulsing with need. With his hand still on the back of your neck, he rubs your face against his crotch, feeling his cock begin to harden at the smell of your arousal.
He pulls you back far enough to slide his pants down, foregoing boxers, and you immediately try to take his half hard length in your mouth. Before you can process it, Bucky’s right hand lands a slap to your cheek - hard enough to make a welt that will take a few hours to disappear. You gasp and your cunt pulses even harder than before at the sting left on your cheek.
His metal hand wraps around your chin, much cooler than it’s supposed to be, and forces you to look him in the eye. In the back of your mind you realize that he turned on the cooling function in his arm to sooth your cheek; the arm was built to keep him cool in the Wakandan sun and heat. “Did daddy say you could suck his cock?” He uses his hand to shake your head from side to side, answering for you. “Then keep your slutty mouth shut.”
He spreads his legs wider and pulls your face closer to his heavy sack, already full of cum. “Hands behind your back, and suck on daddy’s balls.” You join your hands together behind your back without question and nuzzle his balls. Wasting no time, you take one into your mouth, sucking feverishly, enjoying the light dusting of hair tickling your face.
“Oh, fuck, come on, slut, I know you can do better than that. Take ‘em both in your dirty mouth.” He pushes you further into him, cutting off your oxygen, and you swear you hear your slick drip onto the floor. Your jaw aches as you try to get them both in your mouth, but you can't; his balls are too big. Bucky ruts against your face, squishing his balls, precum leaking from his tip, dripping onto his stomach after he takes his shirt off.
With your limited amount of movement, you alternate between each ball, licking at the seam. Every time you switch balls, you feel the other drag wetly across your face and you have to clench your legs in an attempt to quell the ache between them while fighting with your need for air. “Such a dirty bitch, lapping at your daddy’s nuts, shit.” He pulls you back just as your head starts to go fuzzy from the lack of oxygen, and you gasp for air, spit is covering the lower half of your face and is dripping down your neck and chest; Bucky feels his cock throb at the sight.
Reaching out, Bucky smears your spit around your face and leaves another, weaker smack to your cheek before he grabs his cock and uses his weeping tip to tease you, dragging it on your face. “What a nasty fucking bitch, drooling all over the place just from sucking some balls.” He slaps your cheeks with it a few times before forcing your head down all the way, making you gag and you immediately pull off, coughing.
He stares into your eyes, cold and calculating, waiting for you to speak. When your coughing subsides you manage to get out a hoarse ‘green,’ giving him the all clear. He takes your head and once again makes you take his cock, this time much slower and not as deep, the first time he wanted to fuck with you. “Such a perfect fucking mouth, shit.” He stops you from bobbing your head, “Stop being such a desperate whore and let daddy finish his movie.” You're sure you’re leaking onto the floor at this point.
You are able to see his face and he looks wrecked, mouth hanging open and head back; he’s not watching shit. Nonetheless, you rest your head on his thigh, getting comfortable, spreading your legs out to get closer to the floor so your head won't be bent at an awkward angle, ignoring the pain in your knees and the ache in your jaw.
The only sounds filling the room are Bucky’s ragged breathing and the movie playing in the background. There is saliva everywhere, his cock, all over his balls, down to his ass and on the couch. His cock is constantly leaking precum into your mouth but you don’t swallow, letting his taste linger on your tongue.
This isn’t what you wanted, you wanted him to demolish you. Sitting with his cock in your mouth is giving you too much time to think, so you do what any sane person would do - be a brat. At the first suckle, Bucky lets out a broken moan, at the second, he knows what you’re up to. Flicking your ear with his metal hand he hisses, “Don’t make me punish you, bitch.” At the third, he yanks you off of his dick, a trail of drool and precum keeping the two of you connected, as slaps you once again with his flesh hand, this time not soothing the marred flesh with his metal hand.
He stands and kicks the couch out of the way and pulls you with him by the neck. “You disobedient little-” he cuts himself short at the small puddle of slick that he finds from your previous position. “Is that what I think it is?” You only whine in response, his grip on your neck never faltering.
With his free hand, he reaches down to your pussy to feel just how wet you are, confirming his suspicions. “What a dirty fucking slut, leaking all over my floor.” He pulls you in closer to him just to whisper, “Lick it the fuck up, bitch,” before pushing you to the ground.
Your knees hit the wood hard and pain runs up your spine. You ignore the ache and brainlessly lap at your juices on the floor before Bucky smushes your cheek against the puddle and you moan. “Messy bitch, you are? Cunt is pulsing, waiting for my dick. Too bad I have to punish you, isn’t it, slut?” He leans down to the floor, eyes lined up with yours. “Daddy is going to give you ten spanks and I want you to count them.” You don’t respond immediately, stuck in a sort of limbo, drawn in further at the softness in his eyes.
No matter how hard he tries, Bucky can’t hide his devotion to you, that’s why he doesn’t let you look at him when he needs to play this role. His whole face softens at your silence, fearing he’s gone too far. “Color, sugar.” Stroking your cheek, he leans in closer, breathing you in.
“Green, daddy, so green.” The sigh Bucky lets out is audible and he feels ten times lighter.
“Good girl, you want to keep going the way we were?” Even though you said green, he wants to be certain.
“Yes please, daddy, want you to be mean.” You look so small and soft. Bucky struggles to put his facade back up, but he knows you need this.
Bucky positions himself behind you, staring at your ass and glistening pussy, and feels his cock bounce. The first slap isn’t soft by any means, you know there will be a handprint left. Your body jolts and Bucky groans at the jiggle of your ass. “One.” The second is on your other cheek and makes you clench around nothing. “Two.” He lands the next two much harder on the same cheek and you feel tears form in your eyes, yet continue to count, digging your nails into your palm.
He repeats the two spanks to your left cheek and takes a break to sooth your heated and raised skin with his metal hand after you’ve counted. The ground beneath your cheek is hard and unforgiving, leaving you neck bent at an odd angle. Spank seven lands on the back of your right thigh and somehow feels much stronger. “Shit! Seven, daddy.” Eight is on your left, and is just as hard. Your entire lower body aches: cunt pulsing and throbbing for his cock, thighs burning, and ass red and raw, sobbing with every impact.
“These last two are going to be harder, slut, since you forgot to count.” Even with his warning, you aren’t prepared. They are hard and fast, hearing them before you feel them, knocking the breath out of you, and you try to scramble up, but Bucky holds you down. “Don’t run away from me, you know better.” All of a sudden, the sharpest and most excruciating pain blooms from your cunt, and then you hear the wet smack of his metal hand hitting your core.
You wail, body shooting up, legs fighting to close to soothe the sting left. Before you can, Bucky’s hand on the back of your head keeps you to the ground, while he slams his cock into your cunt, not stopping to let you adjust. “That’s it, fuck. Such a good pussy. Dirty fucking bitch.” You can’t breathe, his cock is knocking all of the air out of your lungs. The only sounds in the room are Bucky’s moans and the wet slapping of skin, his heavy balls banging against your sore clit. With each thrust you’re sure he’s hitting your cervix.
The hand on the back of your head leaves to grab your hip, letting him fuck you even faster, the both of you sliding further and further on the floor. You try to brace yourself with your hands, but the brutality of his fucking is no match. “Daddy, fuck, s-so g-good, please!” You don’t know what you’re begging for, but your cunt is pulling him in, barely letting him pull out.
Bucky is practically chasing you on the floor, hips never slowing down, eyes trained on your pussy, loving the creamy white mess on his dick. “Fuuuck, look at the ass bouncing on daddy’s cock, shit! Love the way this fat fucking ass looks when its all red and sore.” He’s in heaven, with the tight clench of your cunt wrapping around his cock, making him feel crazy.
“Daddy! I can’t, f-fuck, please, too much!” You’re fucking delirious with pleasure, feeling something twisting inside of you. You searched for something to hold on to, only finding smooth surface, legs locking, body seizing up.
“You can and you will take this dick, bitch. I don’t care if it makes you fucking bleed.” The pressure in your core builds tighter and tighter, all the while, Bucky’s hips never falter, sack still ramming against your clit.The breath is knocked out of you when you feel the most intense orgasm of your life pass through you.
Keening and wailing, you squirt on Bucky’s cock, the sounds of your fucking somehow getting even more wet until the force of your orgasm pushes his cock out. Your body is left twitching. There is a much larger puddle on the floor now - your cum. Bucky could fucking cum at the sight of your pathetic body laying on the ground, body wrought with pleasure. “Fuck, sugar! That was so fucking hot! You squirted all over, shit! I fucking love you so goddamn much.”
The entire lower half of his body is covered with your cum and Bucky swears he can feel his heartbeat in his cock. Nonetheless, he wraps his arms around your waist and hulls you over to where he kicked the couch, placing your upper half on the cushions. “You’re so fucking wet now I bet I could slide right into that tight ass, what do you think, slut?” Your core pulses at the thought of his fat cock in your ass, the two of you don’t usually do anal, given how big he is, but you can’t think straight, especially after cumming so hard.
“Yes, daddy. I want your big cock in my ass, want you to fill me up.” Bucky groans at the thought of his excessive load running out of your ass. Leaning back, he ruts against your pussy, gathering more of your slick, before spreading your cheeks with his hands, staring at your puckered hole. He lines his cock up and watches as precum leaks from his tip.
His cock is huge, much longer and thicker than average, and he knows it. Grabbing himself near his tip, he pushes, grunting at the resistance, knowing that this would be much easier if he takes the time to prep you, but you want to be treated like a whore. “You gotta loosen the fuck up, bitch or else I’ll really fucking hurt you. Want this fucking ass so bad, better let daddy in. Cock is too big for this little ass, isn’t it, gonna split you in half, leave you leaking for days.”
He pushes harder, tip finally popping in, causing searing pain to shoot through you. Crying out, you try to pull forward to escape the burning pain, wiggling further into the couch. Bucky leans over, careful not to push in any further, he knows you need a moment, any other time you would have been fully prepped and he would have slid right in, and wraps his metal hand around your neck, shushing you, “Shhhh, stop being so dramatic.”
After a few minutes, the pain begins to subside and your breathing calms down. Keeping his hand around your throat, he pushes in, inch by inch, and the pain comes back. You whine into the cushion, every new inch burning more than the last until his hips are flush with your ass. “What the fuck?! Your ass is so fu-fucking tight, shit! Fucking milking my cock, wanna pound this little hole, wanna fucking ruin you.”
Burying his face in the back of your neck, Bucky was taking deep breaths, completely out of it. He wasn’t thinking straight, not when your tight hole was hugging every inch of his cock. You on the other hand, were struggling, it was too much too fast. It fucking hurt, there were tears in your eyes, but your pussy was aching like it wanted more. Your clit throbbed with need, even when your ass was stretched to the brim.
You didn’t want to stop, but you needed a break, before Bucky could move his hips you muttered, “Yellow, daddy, yellow.” The hand on your neck left and Bucky maneuvered his upper body so that he could look you in the eye without moving his cock. His entire demeanor was different, back was your sweet, caring boyfriend.
“Good girl, daddy’s so proud of you for using your safe word. Shhh, it’s okay, sugar. Do you just need a second to breathe? Take your time, if you need to stop I will.” Bucky caresses your face as he soothes you, bringing you back down. His cock is still buried to the hilt in your ass, driving him insane. He wants to rail you so fucking bad, tip of his cock probably purple by now, but he would never do anything you didn’t want to, more than willing to sit with his cock inside of you until you’re ready or decide to stop.
You don’t know how much time passes, but eventually, you loosen up and your mind goes fuzzy once again, desperate for him to move. You wiggle your hips, rocking back and forth, instead of pain, blinding pleasure courses through you. “Green, daddy. I’m ready, just needed to get used to your fat cock, want you to pound into me.” Bucky lets out the most sinful groan and stills your hips with his hands.
He starts out slow, easing you into his motions, gradually gaining speed and force the louder your moans get. “Daddy, faster, please, harder, feels so good!” You were practically sobbing, loving the way he was splitting you open. His hips and thighs were wet from when you squirted on him, slapping against your ass, everytime he pulled back a vulgar shlick sound could be heard.
He fucked you faster and harder, staring at where you were connected. “This fucking ass feels incredible. Taking me so well, knew you could do it, fuck. Splitting your tiny ass in half. Oh God!” He could feel his orgasm building up, fighting it off everytime his cum filled sack slapped against your pussy. Letting go of your hips he snarled, “Show daddy how much of a fucking slut you are and bounce that fat ass on his cock.”
You whined, but complied anyway, digging your toes into the floor to get more leverage to keep slamming back on his cock. The sounds of skin slapping and both of your moans completely drowned out the ending of Bucky’s movie, not that either of you cared. Panting and moaning, you kept working yourself on him, feeling another orgasm bubbling up.
Meeting your thrusts, Bucky was rambling, not having one coherent thought in his head, “Look at that, give me that ass, yes! Don’t you dare fucking stop, bitch, want you to milk this cock. Love the way it fucking bounces, never seen anything like it, oh fuck!” He was getting whiny, high pitched moans falling from his lips. He couldn’t help it, his cock was too fucking sensitive and you felt too good.
“M Gonna cum, daddy! Can I cum?” Bucky practically growls, getting up to his feet to squat, not missing a beat while still trusting in you. Every time his pelvis met your ass he whined and whimpered, loving the way it jiggled. He could feel you clenching around him, drawing his own orgasm closer.
“Not until I do. Fucking hold it, bitch.” It seemed impossible, but Bucky fucked you even faster, his hips moving at a ferocious speed. He wanted to cum so fucking bad and your high pitched moans were about to make him bust. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. I’m gonna fucking nut. You want daddy to fill your ass up, huh? God! Fuck, I’m splitting you in two. Uhhh. Balls are so heavy, so much cum. Fuuuuuuck. Daddy’s gonna fill you up, have you leaking.”
His hand wraps around your throat and chokes you, hips still smashing against yours, your orgasm barely being held in. You try to talk, get him to let you cum, but no words come out. Bucky felt his orgasm approach, balls pulling up, “Shiiit, daddy’s gonna cum, gonna flood your ass, you ready, cum with your daddy. Right. Fucking. Now.” Bucky cums with a long, drawn out moan. The feeling of his endless load pouring into your ass sends you over the edge and you cum so hard your vision goes black for a second. Waves upon waves of pleasure coursing through you. Bucky’s hips jerk involuntarily, prolonging both of your orgasms.
As you both catch your breaths, you feel Bucky begin to soften inside of you, still plugging your hole, stopping his cum from leaking back out. “You were so good for me, sugar. I’m so proud of you.” At those words you feel your bottom lip begin to tremble. Burying your face into the cushions, a sob escapes your throat, all of your emotions finally bubbling over.
Running his hands up and down your back, Bucky soothes you. This was always his least favorite part, seeing you cry. He knows that you’re crying isn’t because of him, but there is always a twinge of fear that shoots through his body, scared that he went too far with you. Bucky pulls out as gently as he can, hissing when the air touches his spent dick, and moves to rest his back against the couch, pulling you into his lap.
Neither of you care that his cum is leaking all over. Bucky will clean the room later, after he takes care of his sweet girl. You cling to him as you sob into his neck, his hands massage your sore cheeks as he whispers in your ear, “Such a good girl for me, you made me feel so fucking good. Can’t even begin to explain how good you felt. There you go, let it out. I’m right here.”
Carefully, he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. When he tries to set you down you just cling on harder to him, not wanting to leave his embrace. “I gotta draw us a bath, sugar. You know you have to pee, I’ll be right here when you’re done.” You hesitantly let him go while he draws the bath, putting in your favorite oils. After you pee and wipe, he helps you up so you can wash your hands before sitting you both in the tub.
Bucky sits against the wall of the tub and you curl further into his lap, not wanting any space in between you. Somehow you still aren’t close enough to him, wanting to be surrounded completely by him. Tears are still leaking down your face and even with Bucky’s consuming presence, you can’t seem to pull yourself up to the surface. Bucky’s arms are wrapped around you, making sure that you are as close as possible without him being inside of you.
“Sweets, can you look at me? Want to see those pretty eyes.” You can hear the concern in Bucky’s voice, but you can’t bring yourself to move away. He’s your safe space and you just want to bask in his warmth. “Sweets, please. Can you tell me how you feel? I need to know you’re okay.” You don’t know why that set you off, but all of a sudden more tears escape you, sobs fighting to make their way out.
Bucky’s entire world stops, fear shoots up his spine. He doesn’t know if he could live with himself if he hurt you, if he did something that you didn’t want. He knows that you asked him to treat you like a whore, but what if you didn’t want him to go as far as he did? You used your safe word when it got to be too much, but what if you really wanted to say red, not yellow, but wanted to please him, or felt like you had to please him. “Sweetheart, did I hurt you? Did I go too far? Please talk to me.”
Even though you didn’t want to talk, you could hear that he was about to cry. “I’m okay. Just love you so much.” You could feel Bucky relax under you.
“You sure, sweets? I’ve never seen you like this before.” While some of his fears subsided, Bucky was still worried about you.
Picking your head up so you could look him in the eye, you saw just how scared Bucky truly was. “I promise, Buck, I loved every second of it. You made me feel so good and cared for. No one has ever made me feel the way you do.” Bucky closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the wall. At that moment, Bucky understood why aftercare was so important. Of course he knew you needed to be taken care of so that you knew how much he loved you, but hearing those words come out of your mouth made him feel loved in a way he didn’t know was possible.
Before the water gets cold you’ve stopped crying, making Bucky feel much better and he washes the sweat and spit off of your face and body, being extra careful with your sensitive pussy and ass. All the while whispering sweet nothings into your ear while you take turns kissing each other all over.
Bucky feels ten times lighter when he gets a giggle out of you. He knows that there will be days when you need him to treat you like a slut, but you know how much he loves and respects you. He lays you on the bed before grabbing your favorite lotion to put on, being extra careful when it comes to your sore ass, placing kisses in each spot after he's rubbed in the lotion.
The marks on your face are gone by now, but Bucky still fusses over your skin care routine, knowing you don’t have the energy to complete it. After taking care of you, he climbs into bed and covers the both of you up, still naked but you don’t care. Bucky reaches into the bedside drawer and grabs some chocolate while you feed it to each other. Neither of you say much, but nothing needs said.
You place kisses on his chest and arms, anywhere that you can reach, trying to let him know how much you appreciate him - Bucky knows. You fall asleep first, not being able to keep your eyes open any longer, Bucky moves you to his chest, cocooning you into him before he falls asleep, your head tucked carefully under his chin, legs tangled together, completely protected by him.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky x y/n#bucky imagine#bucky smut#bucky x female reader#bucky x you#sebastian stan x reader#bucky fanfic#james bucky barnes#dom bucky barnes#sebastian stan imagine#sebastian stan smut#james bucky buchanan barnes#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes fluff
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Whumptober 2023
Welcome to Whumptober 2023 — the sixth year running!
COMPLETIONISTS/PARTICIPANT BADGES CAN BE FOUND HERE
To those of you who participated last year, welcome back! To everyone joining this year, welcome!
Please make sure to read the Event Info carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.
This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.
And this years playlist can be found here.
There are 139 prompt options in total this year - this is including the alternatives list! A special thanks goes out to those who took part in our trope vote back in July. From the 1526 responses to our list of 223 tropes, we looked through the popularity results, as well as your honourable mentions, and were able to produce this years prompts list. Stay tuned, as we will be posting some of the results at a later date!
We’re very excited to see the community come together once more and be a wild, chaotic bunch of creators and consumers of whump. Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators - we wish you all the fun!
Best of luck and happy whumping,
Mods Vanne, Yenn, Kitty and Surro
(All 31 Themes + Prompts, Event Information and FAQs are posted below the cut!)
Whumptober 2023 Prompt List
No. 1: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.”
Safety Net | Swooning | “How many fingers am I holding up?”
No. 2: “I’ll call out your name, but you won’t call back.”
Thermometer | Delirium | “They don't care about you.”
No. 3: “Like crying out in empty rooms; with no-one there except the moon.”
Journal | Solitary Confinement | “Make it stop.”
No. 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.”
Cattle Prod | Shock | “You in there?”
No. 5: “You better pray I don't get up this time around.”
Debris | Pinned Down | “It's broken.”
No. 6: “Do or die, you’ll never make me; Because the world will never take my heart.”
Recording | Made to Watch | “It should have been me.”
No. 7: " “I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.”
Alleyway | Radio Silence | “Can you hear me?”
No. 8: “I’ve got soul, but I’m not a soldier.”
Overcrowded ER | Outnumbered | “It’s all for nothing.”
No. 9: “Learning everything ain't what it seems, that's the thing about these days.”
Polaroid | Mistaken Identity | “You're a liar.”
No. 10: “Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”
Broken Phone | Stranded | “You said you'd never leave.”
No. 11: “All the lights going dark and my hope’s destroyed.”
Animal trap | Captivity | “No one will find you.”
No. 12: “I haven't slept in days but who's counting?”
Red | Insomnia | “I’m up, I’m up.”
No. 13: “It comes and goes like the strength in your bones.”
Cold Compress | Infection | “I don’t feel so good.”
No. 14: “Feed me poison, fill me ‘till I drown.”
Flare | Water Inhalation | “Just hold on.”
No. 15: “I don't need you to help me I can handle things myself.”
Makeshift Bandages | Suppressed Suffering | “I’m fine.”
No. 16: “Would you lie with me and just forget the world?”
Gurney | Flatline | “Don’t go where I can’t follow.”
No. 17: “You’re the lump in my throat and the knot in my chest.”
Collar | Touch Aversion | “Leave me alone.”
No. 18: “I tend to deflect when I’m feeling threatened.”
Blindfold | Tortured For Information | “Hit them harder.”
No. 19: “I’ll take one final step, all you have to do is make me.”
Floral Bouquet | Psychological | “I’m not as stupid as you think I am.”
No. 20: “People don’t change people, time does.”
Blanket | Found Family | “You will regret touching them.”
No. 21: “See the chains around my feet.”
Vows | Restraints | “Don't move.”
No. 22: “They never saw us coming, ‘til they hit the floor.”
Glass Shard | Vehicular Accident | “Watch out!”
No. 23: “It’s gonna get me by the end of the night.”
Shadows | Stalking | “Who’s there?”
No. 24: “I’ve got a head full of chemicals; mouth full of ridicule.”
Goodbye Note | Neglect | “I thought they were with you.”
No. 25: “You’re not delivering a perfect body to the grave.”
Storm | Buried Alive | “They’re not breathing!”
No. 26: “Sometimes I get so tired; I don’t even know myself.”
Seeing Double | Working To Exhaustion | “You look awful.”
No. 27: “You drew stars around my scars; But now I’m bleeding.”
Matches | Scars | “Let me see”
No. 28: “We might not make it to the morning; so go on and tell me now.”
Bloody Knife | Sacrifice | “You'll have to go through me.”
No. 29: “I only sink deeper the deeper I think.”
Scented Candle | Troubled Past Resurfacing | “What happened to me?”
No. 30: “It’s okay, just to say, ‘I’m not okay’.”
Borrowed Clothing | Bridal Carry | “Not much longer...”
No. 31: “I thought that I was getting better.”
Emptiness | Setbacks | “Take it easy.”
Alternatives List:
Betrayal
Aftermath of Failure
Brass Knuckles
Decoy
Body Modification
Playing Cards
Examination
Hunting
Drugging
Shaking
Panic
Broken
Miscommunication
Lab Rat
Reluctant Whumper
Event Info & Rules
~ Please read our extensive event info posts before sending us an ask ~
WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. The 'theme' of each day is the line of lyrics.
The prompts are merely to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don’t have to include the exact wording of prompts into your work). Feel free to run rampant on interpretation. For example, if the prompt is "flame", you could create something with reference to a candle/campfire, your character could have suffered a burn, or the flame could be related to the 'spark' of a relationship. It's truly up to you!
In total, there are 4 prompts for each day: there's lyrics, an object, a trope and a line of dialogue to choose from. We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks.
Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, photo/video/audio edits, paper crafts and elaborate recommendation lists (not just a list of links). Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.
When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag the with:
#whumptober2023 …..(the event tag)
#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(day number)
#lyric, #bruises, #stabbing, …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)
#fandom or #OC, … (ironman, originalcontent, oc …)
#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)
#teeth, #gore tw, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Add "tw" AFTER the trigger/content warning. )
#nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)
#your own tags go here
PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober-archive blog. They must be tagged in the order above. An elaborate post about our tagging system can be found [here]
Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.
Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month. A form will be published at the beginning of November asking you to tell us if you completed the event. You do not need to post anything you have created, we rely on trust and we will not check this.
Questions not addressed in one of our many event info posts can be directed to this blog. We will not answer any questions that have been answered in the FAQs or rules already.
Frequently Asked Questions
Q. How does this year’s prompt list work? What do I have to choose?
You can create something based on:
The overall theme/lyric of the day
Prompt 1, 2 or 3
One or several of the alternative prompts
A combination of the above
Q. Is [specific anything] allowed?
When in doubt: JUST DO IT!
Q. Do I have to do all 31 days?
Participate as much or little as you like! Just be sure to tag your posts properly (ex. #no.7, #radio silence). If you create works for 31 total theme days you will become a completionist. But apart from that, there are no repercussions if you don’t fill prompts for each day.
Q. Can I post early/late?
Yes, you can post whenever you want. We will only reblog posts during October, but you can use our prompts all year round. The day you post will only affect your probability of being reblogged.
Q. Will you reblog my post?
Due to the sheer number of content posted during Whumptober we can’t promise to reblog every single post. We will make a random selection trying to capture a wide variety of content. The following will increase your chances at being reblogged:
tag your post properly
post within 2-3 days of the theme you want to fill: if you fill the prompt for Day 1 your chances of being reblogged during October 1st to 3rd are highest and will go towards zero afterwards.
Q. What if I don’t understand a prompt/theme?
Send us an ask! We’re happy to help with wild, unhelpful clarifications or brainstorming. That being said, the themes are entirely up for interpretation. Don’t take them too literally. For example: You can be choking on a cherry, someone else can choke you or you could be choked up on emotions, etc.
Q. What kind of content can I make? Can it be NSFW?
This is a MIXED MEDIA event! You can write fic, post meta, doodle or paint, create a gifset or photo edit, link a song, or get crafty with video - anything goes. As for NSFW, make what you like, we just hope that you’ll tag your work accordingly so that others participating in the event can stay safe.
Q. Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges?
Absolutely, as long as the other challenges allow it too.
Q. Can I upload/repost my Whumptober content to other social media platforms?
Of course! You can post your own content wherever you like (or you can opt to not publish it at all). Additionally we’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there. It can be accessed here. The tumblr blog @whumptober-archive is the official archive, so please respect the boundaries of any closeted whumpers in your social circle.
Q. Can I use prompts to write a new chapter for an existing fic?
Yes.
Q. An existing fic I am currently writing contains many of the Whumptober prompts, can I use it?
If you are actively writing this fic at the moment with the Whumptober prompts in mind, yes. If you’ve previously posted something that checks the boxes, we ask that you not include it retroactively for this current year. You can, however, add new chapters relating to one or more of the prompts.
Q. What kind of characters can I write for?
Fandom characters, OC characters, human, furry, alien, cyborg, RPF, whoever you like. You can use the generic “whumpee” character or have specific ones.
Q. Does it have to take place in a specific fandom?
No, you can create works for your own worlds or for fandoms or for both. You can also create more generic or pan-fandom works. You can do cross-overs or use OCs, whatever you want.
Q. Can I use a prompt multiple times?
Yes, but it only counts once towards being a completionist.
Q. If I’m not comfortable with one day’s prompts can I use a prompt of a different day as a substitute and still be a completionist?
No, you can’t exchange prompts for different days. However, if all four prompts of a specific day make you uncomfortable, we have created an alternate prompts list that you can draw from. You can exchange any prompt with these, but please make sure not to use them twice.
Q. Where can I post my work?
Post where and how you want. You don’t have to (cross)post it to Tumblr or at all. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive.
Q. Can I start posting early?
You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? That being said, you can post early, but we won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st.
Q. Do I have to finish a fic I started/can I post WIP’s?
Yes you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish it in October for it to count towards being a completionist.
Q. Is co-writing allowed?
Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you.
Q. Do I have to create 31 standalone pieces to be considered a completionist or can I write one continuous story?
One continuous story is fine. The challenge is to write something for 31 prompts. If that’s spread over 31 fics or just one, you are still considered a completionist. (The same goes for every other media you choose.)
Q. Is there a min/max limit on word count?
There is no limit.
Q. Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many?
No limit and combine as many as you’d like.
Q. Is a hc/angst/emotional whump focus ok?
Of course! We are not going to establish a threshold for whumpiness. If you think it’s whumpy enough, then it’s whumpy enough. It can be physical, psychological, emotional, or any combination of the three.
Q. What’s considered nsfw?
See this post
Q. What is whump?
Typically the genre includes situations where a fictional character is hurt, be it emotionally, psychologically, or physically. Fanlore provides information here.
Q. My interpretation of the prompt isn’t whumpy at all, does that count?
If you don’t think your interpretation is whumpy, then it doesn’t count for Whumptober. Remember that whump comes in many forms, though, and that we don’t have a whump-checker or a threshold for how much whump needs to be included. If you think your interpretation contains enough whump to count, then it does.
Q. Can I start working on the prompts before October?
Absolutely! That’s why we post the prompts a month in advance. We recognise how difficult it can be creating for 31 days in “real time” so feel free to start creating early!
Q. How do I tag triggers?
tw at the end of the word, ex. #gore tw
Q. Do I have to use your tags?
Yes, if you want your work archived on the blog. If not, feel free to use whatever tags you want.
Q. Does combining prompts count towards completion?
Yes
Q. Can we @ you?
Yes but we mostly rely on the #whumptober2023 tag.
Q. Is there anything we are absolutely not allowed to write?
There are no rules, but please make sure to properly tag your trigger warnings. And keep in mind Tumblr’s policies if you are posting it here (or the policies for whatever site you use).
Q. Where can I go for brainstorming help?
Here on Discord or come into our ask box.
Q. My characters are minors, is that ok?
Yes, but as with everything else, use clear and descriptive tags.
Q. Can I cross post on other blogs?
Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable. You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once.
Note: This is a creation challenge, please don’t repost your old work under our tags (unless it’s been changed or edited for the event).
Thanks for reading, and happy whumping!
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cc x·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ thinking about...reader trying to break up with yandere gojo
minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: yandere; dub con; lovesick gojo & he’s obsessive/toxic about it; he’s mean but yummy, okay?; size kink (ish?); gojo showing off his strength; sex without protection
notes: I had this written as an idea right after I wrote my hc’s for the jjk men in their yandere version. twylm readers, please forgive me for not posting the next chapter. I am working on it but I am really struggling - I had the worst burn out after the last chapter, and have been having a hard time trying to get back into the story >.<
wc: 1,228
gojo plays with the hem of your skirt - the flat expression on his face telling you that he’s listening but appears unbothered by your statement. you can see the annoyance in his eyes, the irritation that you would say something so ridiculous in the middle of a make out session.
his hands find the back of your thighs and with one swift motion he pulls you over his long legs so you’re hovering above his lap. the imbalance forces you to clutch onto his shirt with frustration, and he mindlessly reaches to undo his belt before tugging your underwear aside with his long, slender digits.
“toru, are you listening to me?” you whisper in a small voice.
“you want to take a break?” he repeats calmly, but those last two words are laced with disgust, barely slipping through his clenched teeth, and he lowers you down just enough for him to press the tip of his swollen cock against your slit.
“I need to slow things down...” you breathe, lashes fluttering at the sensation from the contact.
your thighs naturally start to tense up when he holds you there, and the pads of his fingers dig roughly into your hip to keep you in place. you hiss against the harsh touch, gazing down to find your lover pouting at you like a disappointed child.
any stranger would consider this an adorable expression with the way his big eyes widen while his brows upturn sorrowfully.
to you, however, it was an entirely different message.
“are you unhappy?” he asks, his words weighed down by hurt.
a warm sensation travels up your calves as you try to maintain the pose and you shake your head no while squeezing him gently with reassurance. satoru flickers his attention back to the point of contact. your pelvis feels tight from holding this awkward position, and the ache to have him inside you naturally makes the space between your legs pulse with need.
satoru gojo has given you everything and more. there is no reason for you to be unhappy.
he made sure of that.
“okay,” he confirms with a sigh, one palm moving to grope the curve of your ass while the other stabilizes your leg as he draws you down his length. “do you not love me?”
a hard lump forms in your throat.
you’re careful never to actually say those words to him.
satoru’s devotion consumes your entire your soul - you can’t help but feel like you would be making a deal with a devil if you decided to admit your true feelings.
you managed to keep his peace of mind this far by reassuring him with deep, promising kisses and strong acknowledgements of his feelings.
technically you aren’t lying, but the reality is that you’re afraid to love him...and of what your love does to him.
giving him another silent reply, you nod your head as your fear creeps up the back of your spine. the only relief you find is the stretch between your legs, and your lips part into a circle as satoru gives himself to you inch by glorious inch.
your skirt flaps over you both, concealing him buried inside you. he arches forward to kiss your jaw, his large hands finding your breasts and he massages them over your fitted tank.
he delicately trails his fingers down your waist to latch onto your hips once more. “then why...” he murmurs into your neck, “do you want to take a break?”
your hand finds the back of his head, a moan leaving your parted lips when you feel him lick a stripe up the column before lightly nipping at your earlobe.
“it’s just...” you gasp, feeling flowers of heat bloom in all the places he’s touching you, “I just feel like we are getting ahead of o-ourselves..ah...”
he rocks your hips back and forth, moving at such a languid pace that you can’t help but clench your thighs around his own. your fingers curl around the snowy threads of his white hair, tugging at it gently before pulling his face away so you can meet his eyes.
he looks smug - but he always does because he knows that you’re just addicted to him as he is to you.
“isn’t that what we want?” he questions, the corner of his mouth twitching into a lazy smile as he takes off your top and unfastens your bra, “we’re already so perfect...”
“satoru,” you whine, “that’s not the point-”
this time he ruts his pelvis upward, interrupting your thoughts as he hits you at the right spot that makes your eyes disappear into the back of your head. he leans against the chair, maintaining full eye contact with you as he casually lifts you up before dropping you back down on his cock. “just want to make you m’pretty wife, is all...fuck you like this every single night...”
you bite your bottom lip, frustrated with how wet he’s making you with his words. your body subconsciously succumbs to his demands and you slowly start bouncing up and down over his length.
“that’s right, angel,” satoru grunts with approval, his hungry hands grab your ass roughly, and you squeak when you feel a slight sting from behind as the sound of his palm slapping against your skin echoes around the room. “see? I’m making you feel s’fucking good, your pussy’s so wet f’me...just for me...”
when his mouth finds yours, you know you’ve lost the battle. his scalding kisses leave your lips swollen but you still search for him out of desperation to feel the fire. he’s reminding you how hard it would be to let go of him, reiterating that there is no man in this world who could ever love you as much he does. you feel silly for bringing this up, questioning your own trepidations about him and wondering if this is simply you sabotaging what you already have.
you are in a daze from the way he fucks you but he isn’t slowing down his movements and you feel like he might actually split you in two. he would never speak to you with angry words, but you can feel it in his movements.
“gonna c-cum, gonna cum, gonna cum...”
it comes out of you like a warning, but it only makes satoru go deeper and before you know it your vision is white. your body feels everything all at once, and the coil that’s been tightening around your lower belly loosens from the intense orgasm. the pleasure is euphoric, sinfully so, and it drains you of all the energy you’ve preserved. your body goes limp in satoru’s arms, and he keeps them wrapped securely around your waist as he pumps his cum inside you.
he holds you in this embrace, allowing the seconds to pass. his breath fans your collar bone while he tries to catch himself. your eyes feel heavy when you blink them open, and you cup his face in your hands as you seek to cool yourself down with his azure eyes.
“I’m never going to let you go,” he confesses with a sweet kiss to the inside of your palm, before placing another on your cheek while he tightens his grip, “so stop trying to push me away.”
#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x reader#yandere gojo#yandere gojo x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut
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A Fighting Chance
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
"When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?" Her voice drops into something akin to defeat.
And Simon...Simon feels like the rug's been pulled from under his feet.
Part 2, Masterlist,
"What're those?"
"Papers."
Ghost pauses halfway through opening the document, glancing up at the curtness of her voice. "Papers? She doesn't meet his eyes, gaze fixed on the table of the little booth they're sitting in.
The ice in her drink is long gone, watering down her coffee into something that tastes as bitter as her heart.
It had taken months for her to finally make this decision. Days of talking with her lawyer, crying alone at night and coming to the gruelling acceptance that this was for the best. It was best for both of them.
There's not many things that unsettle Simon. He's had blood stain his hands; his own, his comrades, and his enemies. Had almost any injury you could think of marring his skin, been prodded and ripped into, been the one on the opposite end of the knife.
But as he slides out the documents, turns them over, Simon's never felt more apprehensive.
He stills, reading the first few lines, clenching his jaw. "What is this?"
"I want a divorce."
And something in him crumbles at her defeated tone. Like she's already decided. Like he doesn't even have a chance to ask why or talk it through.
"No." He says tightly, putting them down and crossing his arms.
Her gaze shoots to his. "You can't just say that."
"I did. I won't sign them."
"I want this." She argues, and Simon swallows back the lump in his throat at how utterly tired she looks.
"I don't."
She's the light of his life, the one good, untouched piece of joy he gets to see. Something other than the bloodshed and violence he lives in.
"Simon," She says, shoulders sagging forward. "I can't do this anymore."
"This isn't the solution, love." He feels like his skin is crawling, the beginnings of unfamiliar panic clawing at his chest when she doesn't react to the pet name.
Doesn't smile, doesn't flush that beautiful red, doesn't squirm.
When she doesn't respond again, tight-lipped and clammed up and so determined to not look at him, he asks the question burning a hole through his tongue.
"Why?"
Deep down he knows. Knew this was coming but that part of him is buried under the thudding of his heart, and the rush of blood in his ears. Everything feels deathly still and moving too fast at the same time.
"Why?" She repeats, something in her stirring at the question. Her brow furrows and she switches from a cautious indifference to disbelief and frustration quicker than Simon can process. "Are you serious?" She huffs out an incredulous laugh. "You're away for months at a time and I'm supposed to what? Wait for you at our doorstep and wag my tail all happy when you finally come back to me?" Her grip tightens on her drink.
"Even when you are home, it's never about us. Never about me and you. You lock yourself in your study with your work, don't talk to me unless you come out for dinner or lunch. When was the last time we went out?" She demands. "When was the last time we went on a date? The last time we slept at the same time in the same bed?"
Simon clenches his jaw but says nothing, at a loss for words. It only encourages her to keep going, spewing thoughts that have been boiling over for the past few years.
"You barely look at me when we're home, I had to drag you out of the house to get here! You left halfway through our anniversary dinner last year because work called you in. Sometimes...sometimes I feel like you're only with me because it's easier than leaving and starting over, and that fucking hurts. It hurts when you can't bear to spend five minutes with me away from work. I've been telling you this for ages but you just...you don't listen to me." She leans forward, drink completely forgotten and hits the final nail in the coffin.
"When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?" Her voice drops into something akin to defeat.
And Simon...Simon feels like the rug's been pulled from under his feet.
"I never even know if you're coming home to me." Her voice cracks, and she hugs her middle, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "So yes, Simon, I want to separate. I'm not happy, not like I was when I met you." A sheen of tears she refuses to let fall.
"You can focus on work like you love to, and I can...I can move on."
It was so good when they started out. She found him endearing, dry humour and brooding and all. It was special, those first few years, and she'll always care about him but this...this waiting, this hurting, laying in bed at night alone and cold and crying...it wasn't right. It wasn't what she wanted and she wouldn't force Simon to want it when he clearly didn't want to.
"Fucking hell, I love you." Simon says quickly, stumbling over what to say. He reaches out for her hand on the table, but she pulls it away before he can grab it. It stings more than he can convey, makes the reality crashes down onto him.
He's about to lose her.
Because he couldn't fucking bear to pull himself out of being 'Ghost'.
It was always a rough couple of weeks during his leave. The adjustment to civilian life was a slow one for him, but that's not really an excuse at all.
"I don't think you do."
Simon blinks at her like she's slapped him. "You...you don't think so?" He repeats, running a hand through his hair. She nods, one nod, quick and so sure that it makes his chest ache.
Fuck. He's absolutely messed up.
"Everything's finalised on my end." She says. "You just need to sign them." Her voice is soft, almost like she's coaxing him.
If there's one thing he knows, it's that he's not touching those fucking papers. He's not losing someone he loves again.
"I'll take time off." He says, the intensity of his gaze makes a shiver run down her spine. "We can work through it, yeah? You can't spring this on me and not give me a chance to protest."
She shakes her head, "You're only taking time off because I'm upset." She tries to explain. "What do you think is going to happen? We spend a month together doing what we used to, and when everything's a little more stable you leave again. Distance yourself. Shut me out. Then we're back to square one."
"Won't happen." He says like he hasn't been doing it for the past few years already. "You...I can't lose you, darling." He leans forward. "Let me make it better. Give me a few months-"
"Simon-"
"A week."
"A week?" Her eyes widen. "A week to...what, prove that you'll change?"
"One week."
She worries her lip between her teeth, considering. One week wasn't a long time, but hope was dangerous in a situation like this.
"I'm not letting you go over something like this." Simon says. "I can't."
"This isn't about you." She crosses her arms. "You really think you can turn just...reverse the past few years in a week?" Maybe it's foolish of her to want him to say yes, to fight for her and realise that she's been hurting, but goddamn doesn't a small part of her scream at him to do it anyway.
"Not trying to reverse it." He folds his arms, and she can see the tense line of his shoulders as he takes in the situation, gears turning in his head as he plans how he's going to work his way out of a situation so precious and daunting as this.
Part of him didn't think it would ever come to this. Yes, he can be cold and aloof but Simon thought she knew that he loved her through it all. No matter what.
When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?
Fuck if that doesn't tear through his chest more painfully than any caliber bullet ever could.
He takes her in quietly for a moment.
The woman he fell in love with. The person that gave him a reason to keep going, a motive to feel anything other than the cold efficientness of loading a gun and firing. Soft touches and warm smiles, something so at odds with the rough life he's used to.
Sitting there in front of him, she looks more beautiful than he remembers, and it only proves to make his stomach sink like a stone at the notion of seeding any doubt about his feelings in her heart.
A right fucking bastard he was for it.
"I'm sorry." He breathes out, much softer than the gruff voice he's been using with her. "I'll do better. Just give me a chance, yeah?"
For one horrible moment, Simon thinks she'll decline. That she'll slide over the papers again and demand he sign them.
But she considers his words for a moment before nodding once.
And it's all he needs.
A fighting chance.
Reblog, Like and Comment!
Part 2
(11/10/2023)
#ghost cod#cod mw ghost#ghost call of duty#ghost modern warfare#ghost mw2#ghost simon riley#ghost x reader#cod ghost#mw2 ghost#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#call of duty modern warfare 2#modern warfare x reader#angst#x reader#x y/n#fluff#simon riley#simon riley fluff#simon riley imagine#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty modern warfare ii#modern warfare#cod modern warfare#modern warfare 2#modern warfare ii
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Hiii!! Could I request a bombshell reader x Spencer where someone (a local police maybe) says something rude to her about her appearance or something and normally it doesn’t really get to her, but something snaps and she kinda shuts down/is rude to Spencer until he coaxes it out of her? Sorry it’s long I had an idea and ran w it loollll
ty for requesting angel! confident fem!reader, 1k
Spencer shouldn’t expect his colleague to hold his hand, especially one so confident. What sense would that make, a woman as established as you are, who smiles without a lick of worry nor smugness, wanting to hold his hand?
But you do it all the time, is the thing. In the car on the way to crime scenes, in the hallways of the office, under the round table. It started as a tethering for his distractedness, when one day he’d wanted to talk but hadn’t had the presence of mind to walk at the same time, so you’d taken his hand and led him to the office. You’ve been taking it at your discretion ever since.
Spencer knows something is wrong —you haven’t tried to hold his hand all day. And even if you aren’t interested in him romantically, Spencer has come to crave the touch. He’ll accept platonic hand holding. Anything, really.
“You’re staring very deeply, Dr. Reid,” you mutter, shades from your usual lightness.
“I’m thinking.”
“Aren’t you always?”
“About you.”
“Well,” you smile fleetingly. “You should always be thinking about me.”
“You’re truly humble.”
His joke doesn’t land, it crashes and burns; your smile fades completely into a short, sharp line. Your gaze moves back into the restaurant, waiting for the team's food order in silence once again.
Spencer’s pinky finger twitches across the gap.
“Is everything okay?” he asks.
“Fine.”
You stay quiet, Spencer worries. He takes the bags before you can when they bring your food to the collection desk, two lumps of heat he holds to his thighs as you begin the walk back to the hotel. Tonight, the team will pick at their food together and rehash the same arguments they’ve been making all day, filling in each other's gaps, and tomorrow the work will start again. He can’t have you this unhappy again tomorrow.
“You’re amazing,” he says, watching you turn to him from the corner of his eye, “you know you are, we all do, everyone who meets you. I know you don’t need me to tell you that, or to feel better, but… I’m here for you. If you want to talk. It’s been a hard couple of days, and talking about traumatic events as they happen and directly afterward make them easier to recover from.”
“I’m not traumatised.”
“Upsetting,” he corrects. “Having a shoulder to cry on is good for you, and I can be that shoulder. You know, if you need me to be.”
He can’t know this in the moment, though maybe one day you’ll tell him, further down the line when the hand holding is better defined, but you look at him and you love him. To know Spencer is to love him. Or at least that’s how you’ve always felt. You’d love to cry on his shoulder about what transpired that morning if it weren’t embarrassing to think about, you’re upset over a throwaway comment made by nobody important.
Spencer offers his company earnestly. He stammers. It’s amazingly sincere, as he usually is. He won’t mind if it’s embarrassing, he’ll just listen.
You clear your throat. “I know I’m not to everyone’s taste. I know that the way I… present myself isn’t what most men like. People love confidence, but not when it’s bossy, not when it’s– when it’s vain. And I am vain. I think about my appearance a lot, I think I’m beautiful most of the time, I try so hard to have that be true.” You eye him thoughtfully. “Do you realise that?”
He shakes his head gently, one ear toward one shoulder and then the other, as though balancing. “Sort of. I know you put effort into your appearance, but I also assume a lot of it to be natural.”
“Right, well. It’s not natural. Not really. My natural beauty wouldn’t be all the beautiful to most people. And I’ve accepted that, I know what I like about myself, and–” You’re losing the thread of your point, an upset creeping into your melodic tone and turning it ragged. “When people tell me they don’t like how I look now, I guess it hurts because I know they wouldn’t like me before, either, and I feel defeated because I know I can’t win.”
“Who said they don’t like how you look?” Spencer asks, confused, on his way to annoyed.
“Officer Friendly.” You look to your shoes, watching the steps you take. “Guess he wasn’t as nice as we thought.”
“What did he say to you?”
You shrug. “Same story. He doesn’t like girls who wear makeup. Doesn’t like uppity women.”
“Did he call you that?”
“What are you gonna do if he did?” you ask without malice.
“Morgan’s teaching me self defence for a reason.” You smile at his light joke, though it doesn’t last. He transfers the takeout bags into one hand, the other held out to you, his fingers sliding down your arm to your wrist. “You know you’re beautiful, with or without makeup. And you’re not uppity, you’re out of his league. There’s a difference.”
“You’re flirting with me.”
“No.” He wishes he had the wherewithal sometimes, but this isn’t flirting. “I’m being honest with you. Men like that don’t like you because they know they’ll never, ever have you, or anyone like you. There isn’t anyone like you,” he adds, sliding his hand into yours.
He squeezes all your fingers together twice in quick succession.
“Don’t let a jealous chauvinist halfwit make you think you’re not good enough,” he says.
You curl your fingers around his before he can take his hand back. Slowly, you squeeze his hand. Then, smiling, you let him go.
“I’ve never heard you say something mean like that,” you say. “Halfwit. That’s crass.”
“I was going to say he’s an asshole, if that’s better.”
Your laugh echoes off of the sidewalk. “That’s perfect. Say something meaner.”
The insult he uses next doesn’t bear repeating.
#spencer and bombshell reader#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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23 MISSED CALLS.
☆ summary. you had always nagged to your boyfriend satoru to answer his damn phone. it’d always go straight to voicemail—you told him in your own words, ‘toru, what if something ever happened to you?’ but this time, it was far too late.
wc. 1.7k
tags. gn!reader, angst, nickname(s) 'baby, angel.'
an. idk how to write angst much but i was sad so came up w this. merry christmas :)
“hey heyy, it’s satoru. uh, you’ve reached the—eheh what does that lady say again…? you’ve reached the voicemail box of.. gojo satoru. leave a message after the beep, beeeeep. heh, bye.”
such a dork.
you lost count of how many times you listened to that automatic message over and over again. the playful cheekiness in his voice, you could just see his smile. the dumb dimples that poke out against both of his cheeks whenever he grinned.
a cute dork. your dork.
besides that though, it’s been at least twenty three times of you ringing him, but to no avail. each time it went straight to voicemail—sucking your teeth in confusion, you started pacing around your bedroom. it was christmas morning, and gojo promised he’d be here before you wake up.
he couldn’t be…
no, he’s gojo satoru. he always wins, right?
right..?
the more you waited, the more impatient you became. the room grew colder and colder, despite the heat being turned on. you sat on gojo’s side of the bed, inhaling his scent, as if he was here right now.
he’d always fill up the room with his loud cologne scents—you’re always telling him how it’s too strong and he always kisses your cheek, muttering, “eh really? i don’t smell it that much, baby..”
the scent was always sweet, a mixture of cinnamon and multiple other spices—you glanced at the roségold alarm clock that rested against your nightstand, the time reading six thirty am.
he still wasn’t here.
it was hard to not overthink, think the worst, gojo was always so good at calming your nerves. you’d be one to constantly overthink. his trick to stop that was to simply hold you in his arms, stroke your hair and tell you in a soft cheery voice, “hey angel, everything’s gonna be okay. i’m okay, we’re okay.”
but again, he still wasn’t here.
gojo mentioned to you before he left last night around midnight he had to ‘take care of something’ — his code word of he’s about to go into battle or fight, but he didn’t want you to worry about him.
that’s the very last thing he wanted. and if anything, he always assured you he’d be okay. even if he was beaten to a pulp by his enemies, he’d always return back home to you with that stupid lovable grin on his face.
so what made christmas day any different?
you swallowed the thick, nonexistent lump in your throat, trying to snap out of your deep melancholy thoughts. dragging your feet,
you rubbed your eyes from the sun just barely shinning through the curtains scattered throughout the house.
with a soft sigh, you made your way towards the christmas tree — the pretty lengthy tree the both of you decorated together last minute, a tiny smile went on your face at remembering how gojo kept accidentally breaking all of the ornaments, so he had to constantly keep buying new ones.
lights, glimmery multicolored lights, a plethora of ornaments and a pretty sheeny star sits at the very top. you sat on your knees, before glancing down at the various presents — one caught your eye, it was a tiny box. a velvet heart shaped box, and gojo told you it was the biggest surprise yet.
you paused, glancing down at your phone that was about it to die soon, wondering why gojo still hasn’t returned any of your calls.
he’s been gone for hours, and the knot in your stomach continued to tighten—it felt like something inside of you was squeezing, tugging you from the inside.
was this what a gut feeling feels like? something was telling you, screaming at you that something wasn’t right.
with shaky hands, you went to his contact for what seems like the millionth time, staring at the image that was his picture, him and you.
the both of you were being goofy, it was a old polaroid picture a few years ago of the both of you during your birthday.
he spoiled you so much that day, but as always he never forgot to repeat how much he loved you.
the phone rang three times and your mind pretty much knew mentally he wasn’t gonna answer, it was a bit foolish for you to continuously keep trying. but something in you told yourself, it’s satoru. he’s gonna answer. anything to reassure yourself, this happens a lot — gojo’s the type of person who always has his phone on silent, or he says he’ll call you back but ends up forgetting.
after a few rings, the same automatic voicemail plays, and just hearing his voice again, no matter how many times — it never fails to make your heart swoon.
“hey heyy, it’s satoru. uh, you’ve reached the—eheh what does that lady say again…? you’ve reached the voicemail box of.. gojo satoru. leave a message after the beep, beeeeep. heh, bye.”
you intake a sharp breath, closing your eyes before bringing the warm phone up to your ear, pressing it against your cheek before speaking in a voice.
a voice you hardly recognized, “…toru?” and you were on the brink of tears, it was easy to hear and you tried not to let your emotions get the best of you but at this point..
was it really worth holding on to?
fifteen long seconds passed and you forgot the phone was still in your hand.
you sniffled, gathering yourself briefly before continuing in a soft drowsy voice, “h-hey, um. i don’t mean to blow your phone up but, you aren’t responding and i’m getting kind of scared. are you okay?”
you pause again, feeling the sting of tears nearly escape through your eyelids before you squeeze your eyes shut, lightly squeezing your left thigh to prevent any more emotions from revealing themselves.
“i um, just wanna say i love you, and i hope you’re okay. i didn’t wanna open my gifts until you got here but you’re taking forever..”
and you manage to crack a tiny smile that purses against your lips—yet after a while, it fades and your heart feels like it’s just walking on egg shells. “but anyway, yeah. i love you satoru, text or call me back so i know you’re alright, please? and just get home safe okay? bye.”
you hung up the phone and a single tear ran down your cheek.
so much time had passed, and he still wasn’t here. it was nearly seven in the morning now, and your dumb curiosity got the best of you—you wondered what gojo’s big surprise gift was.
he wanted you to wait to see your reaction, but you were just so curious, so enthused.
you started to peel the pretty striped velvet wrapping paper off, one at a time, it was neatly wrapped with a perfect red and blank bow tied on the top.
once you opened it, it had a tiny black box, and your eyebrows raised, a note sticking out the side. grabbing it, you revealed it and it read in neat handwriting:
“hi baby!! merry merry christmas, i’m kinda tearing up while writing this, and i know i know you probably just wanna see the gift but first read this ‘kay? just wanna say i love love you so much, and i’m so glad we’ve been together for almost four years now. you mean everything to me, you’re so sweet and kind, always there whenever i need to talk my feelings out, or even if i just need to lay on you and fall asleep. but anywho, you know who loves you? this guy! hopefully i made you smile as you read this, im probably not at home yet but ill be back soon. don’t worry your pretty little head, alright? i love you baby, merry christmas from your honored one, xoxo.”
tears were in your eyes—and it was like you could hear him, he was right, you did manage to smile. sniffling, you placed the note aside before opening the small black box.
once you pulled the top back, your eyes widened, seeing a small coruscating ring. your heart sang, blinking twice to make sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you.
gojo was planning to propose..?
the ring was so pretty.
various scattered crushed up like pearls around the top, and once the tears started, they kept streaming down your face. you quickly pulled it out, sliding it on your ring finger and it was a perfect fit — in a frail sob, you mumble, “y-yes, i’ll marry you satoru.”
yet — that’s when you wake up, finally snapping back to reality. confused with tears still streaming down your face, burning.
“satoru?”
no answer.
you get up from the bed, your eyes widen before you look at your right hand — and the engagement ring was still there. a sigh of relief exits your mouth, and that’s when you make your way towards the kitchen.
nothing to worry about, maybe you just fell asleep while opening the gift. yeah, that had to be it.
although, the atmosphere of your house felt different. taking a quick glance in the living room, the christmas tree wasn’t there anymore, it wasn’t snowing, and it was almost as if you lived by yourself.
“satoru?” you called out again, before pulling out your phone — scrolling towards your messages and your heart suddenly sank. the last message you sent him was two years ago, a subtle ‘satoru, it’s christmas and you’re still not here? are you okay?’
christmas…?
you pulled a tab down on your phone — and the date read march 17th. approximately two years later from when you last sent that message, and you were so confused.
but the further you scrolled down, you saw messages from others, sending you their regards and condolences for your loss….loss?
the recent message was from geto — and your last reply was, ‘thank you, i’m doing okay. i just still can’t believe he’s gone.”
. . .
you felt sick — tear after tear racing down both sides of your face before coming to the sudden unfathomable realization.
gojo never came back home for one reason and one reason only. he died a painful death those long two years ago, even though he swore he’d come back to you on christmas.
perhaps everything was all a lie.
sometimes people don’t win all the time, not even the honored one, the love of your life, gojo satoru.
#★vegasbaby.#gege made me do it 😔#gojo x reader#gojo x you#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk angst#gojo angst#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk fluff#satoru gojo x reader#jjk fic#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x reader#jjk spoilers#gojo x y/n#jjk imagines#jjk drabbles
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The end we start from
Pairing : Astarion x female!reader/Tav
Around 1,8 words
Takes place after the events in Cazador's palace in act 3 (non-ascended Astarion, established relationship)
Angst with a happy ending (and loooots of sex) <3
Astarion doesn’t feel good enough. you show him he’s everything.
TW : 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex, very angry/angsty/rough sex, fingering, mature language, mentions of death and depression, mentions of blood
A/N : when i don’t work, i do two things: i take care of my dog and i play BG3. i don’t eat. i don’t sleep. i don’t socialize. i just play BG3. and I write stuff about *him*.
Astarion is many things. Quiet is not one of them. But lately, that’s all he’s been, and you’ve been worrying about him night and day. Tonight is no exception. You wake up in the middle of the night and realize two things : not only is Astarion’s side of the bed empty but the sheets and pillows are untouched, uncrumpled. His side hasn’t been slept in. This isn’t right. Of course, he doesn’t really need to sleep but he always, always lays next to you at night, spooning you, playing with your hair and whispering sweet I love yous in your ear until you fall asleep. His absence means something’s off. Unable to shake off the anxiety, you get up in one swift motion, determined to find him. No chance you’re falling back asleep now anyway.
Your bare feet hit the cold marble floor and you shiver as you make your way accros the bedroom in a hurry. You think of searching outside in case he went for a hunt, but it turns out you don’t have to look too far. There he is, silently leaning against the wall by the window, gazing into the pitch-black night of the Underdark. The light in the room is so dim that you couldn’t even spot him from your bed. You approach him and your heart breaks a little when you notice the lingering sadness in his crimson eyes, enhanced by the faint light of the burning candles next to him.
You want to ask him if he’s ok but it’s obvious he’s not so instead, you remain silent and close the space between the two of you, wrapping your arms around him and gently resting your head on his shoulder.
“What are you thinking about?” You ask softly after a while, your voice barely above a whisper.
Astarion averts his gaze and gives you a faint smile, nothing but a twist of lips.
“Nothing,” he replies. “I’m just being selfish, as usual. Forgive me, y/n.”
You frown and stare at him incredulously. “You’re not selfish,” you say, surprised at how intensely he means it. “Why would you even say that?”
“I –” He pauses, rethinks his words. This does nothing to make you less worried. “I caused you great pain,” he finally says. “I put you in danger. Repeatedly, ever since we met. You could have died a hundred times and it would have been my own, entire fault.”
You look up to him and feel a lump form in your throat. You have never seen him look like this – grief in his eyes and etched into the lines of his face.
“I’m not dead, Astarion. I’m right here with you.” You say as you wrap your arms around his neck. He makes a sound somewhere near a sob and your arms tighten.
“But I did put you in danger and now you’re stuck with me for eternity, in the middle of nowhere, and you—" Again, he stops. He’s bad at this, at talking about emotions. But he fights through it because it’s you. And nothing can be left unsaid between the two of you. Not after everything that’s happened. “You deserve so much better. You deserve the world, and I can’t give it to you.” You’re not sure where this conversation is going but you don't want to find out. His lower lip quiver but he goes on, words spilling out of him like blood from a wound. “I can’t give it to you, and I’ll never be able to forgive myself for it. It’s killing me all over again.” You crumble under each one of his words. His lips are trembling now and you can’t stand it. You can’t but you can’t do him the dishonor of looking away either.
“Astarion, I chose this life.” Your hands flutter to his face, each one cupping a cold cheek, forcing him to look at you. Your heart is pounding, and you know he can feel it. “I had a choice; I could stay, or I could run, and I chose you. I’m not stuck here. I’m home.”
Astarion heaves a faltering breath in an attempt at composure. “Sometimes I think you would be happier without me. Better off.” He barely mouths the words, but you hear them all distinctively, nonetheless. “You should go and leave me here. Walk in the sun. Be happy and live your life.” You draw your hands away from his face and he steps back, speaking louder now.
“It won’t get any better in here,” he continues, gesturing urgently around the room. “It’ll always be cold and dark, I’ll always be a blood-thirsty monster. I belong to the shadows, and I’ll never be able to make you happy, so you might as well just leave.”
His words knock the air out of your lungs and, for a moment, you cannot breathe. You feel your pulse pounding in your veins and blood thrumming under your skin as your heartbreak turns into anger. That fucking idiot, you think, looking up at him through eyes blurred with tears.
“You don’t know what makes me happy. You don’t,” you shout, surprised by the vehemence in your voice. "And you certainly don't get to speak for me." Astarion looks at you in such confusion that you almost feel bad for a moment, but you continue.
“You – you make me happy, Astarion, gods you do. I would rather live an eternity in the Underdark with you than one more day in the fucking sun.” Your heart is clenching in your chest, and you can feel the heat pooling in your cheeks. “By no means would I be better off, let alone happier, without you. I can’t believe that you could even think –” You trail off and sigh in frustration. You can’t bring yourself to scream at him any longer because that’s all he’s ever known before you, screams and shouts and abuse, and you can’t do this to him. But that doesn’t leave you with many options to get through to him. Astarion opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t let him.
Without warning you grab his shirt to pull him close and your lips crash into his, knocking the breath out of both of you with the force that you collide with. It only fuels your rage because the moment his lips are on yours, you can’t help thinking that you almost lost this once and you can’t actually lose it. You won’t let that happen. So you kiss him harder. It’s rough and desperate and sloppy. It's harsh breath and biting teeth.
He turns you around and backs you against the wall. You take it rather hard, but you welcome the sting. Anything to shut him up about not being good enough for you. He crowds in closer, presses you even harder against the wall, shoving his knee between your thighs. His cold lips connect to your throat, making you eagerly tilt your head to give him access to your thrumming pulse dancing at your neck. You have absolutely no qualms about it. If he wants it, it’s his.
But he doesn’t take it. Instead, his mouth sucks and licks, making you squirm and rock your hips against him. You cling to him, grabbing his shoulders and sliding your hands down his shirt and to his back. He hoists you up like you weighed nothing and you wrap both legs around his waist. You tangle your hands in his curly silver hair and pull him forward to feel that mouth on yours again. His tongue running over your lip makes you grind faster, searching for more, more, more. You moan when his hand reaches beneath your gown and through your damp underwear.
Firm, icy fingers are stroking you into madness. You make a sound that’s close to a whimper, but more like a groan, because damn it, you are so impatient now. You are clenching – aching to have him inside.
He is gasping at the feeling of your fluttering around him, and you must be gasping too, but you’re not sure; your head falls back and it feels like you’re breathing, but you could just as well be drowning.
You dig your nails hard into his back - you need to channel the anger into something. Maybe you’ll be the one drawing blood this time. You lean forward to rest your dizzy head on his shoulder and groan in anticipation. Not wasting anymore time, he pushes his hard, large cock into you, going steadily until he’s all the way in.
“Harder. Fuck me harder.” You plead and he obeys.
He sets a pace that graces all the right spots, spurred on the increasingly desperate noises escaping your mouth. This is no effort at all for him, holding you up easily and fucking you hard with determination. But you can see it when you rest your forehead against his – the sheer weakness you feel is reflected right back at you and you know he needs this just as much as you do.
You are so close. You need to concentrate on breathing, just so you simply don’t die. Your lower back thuds against the wardrobe with your oh gods and fucks singing in tandem. The vampire trails open-mouthed kisses and little bites down your neck while maintaining the almost vicious pace in and out of you. Every stroke curls and loves and breaks you into submission. You forget to be angry because your release is in his hands and your body is desperately handing itself over to him.
Your thighs start to quiver around him, the sounds of wetness and the feeling of his own explosion of pleasure deep inside you taking you so high that eventually, you shatter into him. You’re so grateful for the strength holding you up, so you can fall apart.
Your repeatedly moan his name on your way back to consciousness, lips brushing softly against his pale skin.
Before you know what is happening, you break into a sob.
“Please…. Please don’t ever tell me to leave, ever again.” You try to articulate, your voice shaking uncontrollably.
He sinks down onto his knees, holding you in his lap and whispering, “Shh,” into your ear.
“I’m so sorry,” he says, his voice is low and full of gravel. He never sounded so sweet. “I love you, always have and always will. And you’re not going anywhere.”
#baldur's gate 3#bg3#astarion baldurs gate#astarion bg3#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#astarion x oc#astarion fanfic#astarion imagine#astarion x female reader#astarion fluff#astarion smut#bg3 fanfiction#baldur's gate 3 fanfiction#bg3 smut#baldur's gate iii#astarion x you#larian studios#neil newbon#baldur's gate#bg3 fluff#astarion ancunin#astarion angst#bg3 tav#bg3 spoilers#astarion x y/n#astarion fic
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