#hes the worst but how can you not love him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moondirti · 2 days

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big fan of the headcanon that simon riley is hard to get.

if we're being realistic, he's probably gotten very good at ignoring any inclination he might have towards a person in the years since his families' murder. it's easier to function as a soldier, as ghost, when he doesn't have to carry the burden of concern for someone so vulnerable. whether it's worrying about their safety while he's on deployment and can't afford to, or otherwise repressing his darker tendencies in an effort not to break them; the extra effort just isn't worth it to him. he won't seek you out, he won't take care of you, he won't reassure and coddle and communicate.

and he's not blind, nor is he passionless. he can appreciate a pretty face when one happens to pass by, but that's pretty much the extent of it. he's gotten used to the scorch of the lonely flame that flickers inside of him. if anything, he thinks putting it out and tending to the burns left in its wake would be a more traumatic ordeal than just letting it consume him.

so for him to accept love, it'd have to sneak up on him.

it happens with johnny first. he's the natural candidate, of course. his stubborn subordinate, clever with a fixated loyalty and quick wit – who better than him to get under ghost's skin?

granted, he isn't as guarded around him as he would've been with a civilian. not as cold upon introduction because he doesn't need to be. soap's a soldier, and this is work, and he's confident enough in the sergeant's resilience that it doesn't hinder his routine. he doesn't have to make accommodations, bend backwards or wake up in a cold sweat concerned about the man's wellbeing; not at first, anyway. and such are the floodgates that allow him to embrace johnny's company.

jokes crackled over comms. sitting next to each other on the airlifter. claps on the back after a successful operation. trust in every decision he chooses to take, regardless of whether or not he agrees. he thinks about johnny's eyes, johnny's smile, johnny's fierce little pout and the scar on his chin – but everything in moderation. the perfectly healthy amount. passing appreciation of his best mate's features and nothing more. it's the only meaningful connection he's had in years, and so what if he tugs his cock to the thought of it? people have cum to less.

until the bastard gets himself shot in the liver on solo reconnaissance in cyprus, and almost dies on medevac.

because when ghost gets that call from price – soap's hurt. it's looking grim. – he's wracked with a terror so acute he thinks his heart has given up on him. it's about the worst way to find out that he considers johnny as more than a friend. this sheer desperation, longing, regret. he ponders over it in the plane, tries to scrub the dread from his being. tries to pick apart what went wrong, what makes the sergeant so special.

by the time he reaches the hospital, he's already accepted defeat. all it takes is one look at johnny in his hospital bed – features peaceful, bandages wrapped around his bare chest, mohawk and facial hair grown out – to understand that this isn't going away anytime soon. he'll just have to make his peace with it. readjust to accommodate the protective flare already sparking in his chest.

it's a hassle, but manageable. despite his injury, johnny's still a competent man. they already know how to function in bouts of high stress. they're good– great friends. all this is really is an opportunity for simon to finally dig his cock within an ass he's been eyeing for months – or at least, that's the rationale he uses to come to terms.

and then you arrive. and things get a whole lot more complicated.

johnny's bird, apparently – gaz whispers to him outside of the inpatient room, watching through the window as you fret over the comatose man's pillows – didn' know he had one. m'surprised. you'd think a loudmouth like him would let the world know. she's cute too. really, ghost, did you have any idea?

he can't find it in him to respond, opting instead to march back into the room. you're fussing too much, causing a scene, no doubt disturbing the air with the nervous energy radiating off you in waves.

"he isn' supposed to be elevated like tha'," simon scolds, inflating a bit when you straighten up, eyes blowing wide with distress.

"oh... i just thought- he gets all hot when he lays on his back like this. i wanted him to be comfortable."

he knows that he's being cruel. you've done absolutely nothing to deserve the harsh glare he shoots your way, nor should you be expected to handle it. your eyes are red-rimmed, puffy like you've been crying on the way over. no doubt unused to crises like this one. he should be a help, not another source of stress.

besides. johnny's your boyfriend, not his. he has no reason to be so territorial. he'd only just discovered his feelings eight hours ago.

but–

"are you a doctor?"

"n-no."

"then it's best you keep your opinion to yourself."

he just can't help himself.

over the next week, ghost treats you with nothing more than cold disregard. he side-eyes you when you cry, wakes you up with rough pokes to your shoulder once visiting hours close, and takes every chance to one-up you when it comes down to who knows johnny better. you've got a leg up in the domestic department, but simon knows that nothing can surpass the borderline psychic bond they've built, and he makes sure to emphasise it whenever he can. and fuck, does it annoy him that you take it with grace every time, nodding receptively as though his input is meant to be more than just a searing critique of your shortcomings.

his behaviour doesn't go unnoticed, either. gaz is infinitely perplexed to see that the usually controlled lieutenant is so quick to lose his temper around you, despite your earnest efforts to not be a nuisance, and all price offers are long, disapproving looks that have him itch uncomfortably in his seat.

on the other hand, you must believe that he's just like that – foul mouthed, disparaging, mean – because you don't take it to heart. you remain pleasant, gentle, if not a little bit emotional. never once do you raise your voice at him, or fight back when he extends a particularly hurtful comment. on the occasion that his attitude grows to be too much for you, all you do is slip on a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and spread out your textbooks to spend the evening studying on the other side of the room. not keen on making amends, or discovering the source of simon's malcontent, but not affected by it either. you're peaceful. conflict averse. a good girl.

then, you come back one day with a tupperware of cookies.

"i made them myself last night. couldn't sleep, so..." you shrug, holding it out towards him. he assesses them, assesses you, roving over your chapped lips and hollow under-eyes. when did you get to look so defeated?

"no." he looks away, back to the unconscious man in front of him. in his periphery, your shoulders deflate, and he doesn't know what compels him to add the quiet "thanks."

"you've been here every hour of every day. i don't think i've seen you eat. um–" you dodge his gaze when it shoots to you. you've never tried to hold a conversation before now, have always accepted his gruff responses as an indication to leave him alone. he wonders why you can't catch the hint now. "just- let me know if you change your mind. they're shortbread."

and that's the end of it. at least until an hour later:

you're sitting on your armchair, directly across the bed from him, staring blankly at johnny when you speak up. "lieutenant?"

ghost doesn't remember introducing himself to you. he doesn't respond, but clenches his jaw to let you know he's listening.

"he's been comatose for a while." you warble. meaningless chatter. he sees it for what it is: talking so you don't cry. seeking reassurance in someone who knows how these things go.

"hm."

"is this how it usually-"

"sometimes."

"oh."

"he'll be alright." simon adds. more for himself than for you, but your lip wobbles like it's exactly what you needed to hear.

a few moments later, you speak up again.

"he holds you in such high regard, y'know."

he didn't. his heart aches as he follows the rise and fall of johnny's chest, finds solace in it, calming himself before he rips the hair from his skull. he can't speak, can't muster a rude dismissal, or any hatred for you. not anymore. this hospital has sucked the soul from him, as it seems to have done with you.

"he'll be happy to know you've stuck to his side." you smile, stirring from your seat and slinging your bag over your shoulder. "i have to go, got an exam tomorrow. i'll leave the cookies here in case you crave one."

you're halfway out when simon replies. "good luck."

and he's on his third cookie when johnny finally wakes. by then, he's already made up his mind. it's revelation he comes to much faster than the first.

if he can't have just johnny, he'll take you both.

#i ran out of steam towards the end could you tell #ghostsoap #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley x reader x johnny 'soap' mactavish #johnny 'soap' mactavish x reader #ghostsoap x reader #simon 'ghost' riley x johnny 'soap' mactavish #call of duty

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hoshigray · 2 days

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Are you able to right a gojo fic? He pulls you aside after a meeting to a spicy makeout with you that leads to more than just a make out:,)

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: "more than a make out" indeed, lmao

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x afab/fem! reader - explicit reader; minors DNI - canon divergence; you're gojo's partner who works in Tokyo jujutsu tech with him - kissing; making out - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - breast sucking - deep impact position - praising - pet names (angel, baby, cutie, princess, sweetie) - cameos: Ijichi and Naga - Gojo is a touch-starved fool, bless him lol.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.1k

“Y/n~~!”

“…! Oh, Gojo!”

“Ahh, it’s Gojo-sensei!”

Being the strongest sorcerer in the modern world is a hassle, no matter how much Gojo loves to shake it off as if it’s not. Not that he doesn’t mind it — no, no. If anything, he prides himself in it. It fills his ego, knowing that a scarce few could be compatible with his power. He’s a dependable light for the jujutsu world, sorcerers of the nation thankful that he's not on the wrong side.

But alas, being the best has its taxing side, especially taking in tedious missions across the land and attending mandatory meetings with the entire jujutsu faculty body — not to mention being a teacher. The white-haired sorcerer was a busy man — no other way to explain it. However, the worst thing about it all was that there would be times when he’d have less time to spend with a certain someone who had him in the palm of their hands. And if he keeps being away from them, he might – no, will – malfunction.

You were Gojo’s partner, his sweet baby that he cherished more than anything. You were a faculty member of Tokyo Jujutsu High, making things a little easier for the two of you to meet and elope (professionally). Nevertheless, those moments seem to frequent less and less with how many meetings have Gojo backed up this past week. The poor guy can’t even remember the last time he heard your sweet voice (which is a lie since you call every morning and night; he makes sure you do).

Although, today would be different. Once this meeting with the Kyoto officials ended, he made a straight beeline out of the room to find you. And to his cheerful chuckle, he skips in your direction when he sees you conversing with Yuuji in the hallway. The salmon-haired teen greets his teacher with a high-five and a bow from you.

Yuuji hears Megumi call for him from outside, so the boy dismisses himself with a goodbye and wanders off, leaving you and Gojo to yourselves.

“Hello, Y/n~,” the man says your name with a happy tune, his lanky figure swaying to be close to you.

“Good noon, Gojo,” you greet him again with a modest smile as the tall man walks to you. “How was your meeting? Did the officials give you a tough ti—Mmmph!?”Your boyfriend surprises you with a kiss, taking in your perplexed moan with his pillowy lips. One peck comes after another while Gojo’s hands sneak to your waist. You quickly push him away, but his hold keeps you close to his figure. “G–Gojo, what are you doing!?” You express your concern in confusion, covering your lips with a hand.

“Mmm? What do you mean? I’m greeting my princess with a kiss,” the blindfolded man says so matter-of-factly, beaming his delighted demeanor that nearly blinds you. “I miss you!”

“I miss you, too, but you can’t just—“ He tilts his head as you try to explain. You chew your lip with cheeks boosting in warmth, averting your glance away from his charming face that’s inching closer and closer to yours. His eyes are masked by the black cloth around his face; however, you can still sense the intensity of his gaze. “N-Not in public, Gojo...”

He plays the whining card, bringing you in for a tight hug that could restrain your breathing. “Ehhh, but I haven’t seen or touched you in days! See, we’ve been apart for so long that you’re going back to referring to me by my last name!”

“I always call you by your family name when in the school, no??”

“Yeah, but that’s only for when people are around, not just the two of us!” His complaints are genuine, swaying around with you in his arms. You roll your eyes, listening to him yap more. “Come on, Y/n; it’s been such a hectic week for me, missions after missions, meetings after meetings. Any more than this, and I just might combust — especially when I don’t have time to see my angel.”

You hear him make fake crying noises to your shoulder, reminding yourself how much your tall, strong boyfriend can be such a whiny puppy if he’s away from you for too long. But you can’t kid yourself; you missed spending time with him just as much as he did. “I know; I wanna see you more often, too. Don’t you worry, okay? This week is almost over, so keep pushing through like the tough man you are…Hehe, my strong Satoru.”

The snow-haired sorcerer springs up with a childish smile at the use of his name, his dimples present with the shine of his teeth. “If that’s what must happen, can your strong Satoru ask for another kiss to make his hell a little bearable?”

You give him a look at his request, but his anticipation doesn’t falter. With a sigh, you smile and whisper, “Just a kiss, Satoru?”

He chuckles lightly, drawing his mouth close to yours. “Yes, princess.”

His soft lips land on yours. There’s no restraint as you welcome him, your hands coming around to cup his cheeks before breaking the kiss. “One more,” he says before your nose is brushed away from his. You comply and place another gentler peck, and the man sneaks a hand from your waist to the back of your head. You withdraw your lips again, but Gojo utters another “One more…” Your stomach does flips knowing what game he’s trying to play. Another kiss is received, and his leg sneaks in between yours.

You mewl, finding yourself stuck in this predicament. He’s now in control, using this opportunity to deepen the kiss and make it more passionate, sucking your bottom lip and running his tongue for more access. You have no choice but to accept him, whimpering at the tongue intruding into your oral cavity while his leg moves further and further.

Your hands come to his shoulders, gripping his jacket as the Gojo furthers himself into the kiss. The hand behind your head keeps you steady, keeping him focused on your mouth, where he sucks on your tongue in a way that leaves you breathless — like, actually. After he quits the kiss, you two are gasping for air so hard, and your lips are wet because of him.

“Hahhh, ’Toru, stop,” you wipe spit from your mouth. “We can’t be doing this here…”

Your complaint falls on deaf ears, the sorcerer placing chaste kisses on your cheek. “Hmmm, why not?”

“Mmm..Someone, your students, we’d be caught here…”

Gojo smirks; it’ll never stop being adorable how bashful you are around him, particularly when he expresses his undying affection for you in public. But he will respect your wishes, and the idea that pops into his head makes him giggle.

Before you can process anything, Gojo picks you up with your legs held up and a hand on your back. You squeak at the unexpected action, grabbing a hold of his neck to balance yourself. Your mouth opens to express your bewilderment. Yet one moment, you two are in a hallway of the school; then you’re transported to a familiar room with a bed the next — your bedroom.

You blink in perplexity as Gojo throws you on top of your bed, stammering to find the right words. “Satoru, I wish you’d stop teleporting without letting me know! And don’t you have another meeting to get to!? Why are we in my apart—“ You don’t finish that sentence; you stop yourself once Gojo crawled up on the bed to you. Suddenly, you feel too small to utter a word.

“Sorry, baby,” No, he wasn’t. Not with that childish grin posted on his face. He brings his face to yours, placing more smacks on your lips. “But you’re the one who said we shouldn’t be doing this on school grounds. Heh, you act so cute when you’re shy…”

“No, Satoru, we can’t—Mmmm,” silencing you with kisses was such a vile card, knowing you’d be whimpering under him just from him twirling his tongue with yours. “Mmph..Mmah…! You’re scheduled for…another meet—“

“Shhh, don’t worry; I can be late for a few minutes,” another lie. If Gojo’s late to another meeting, Principal Yaga will put the younger man in a chokehold again. “I’ll make this quick, I promise. So, just let me enjoy you…”

Sucking your tongue is all it takes for you to give up on trying to persuade him out of what he’s doing. Gojo takes off and throws his jacket to the bedroom floor to let his black fitted tee breathe, and his hands initiate unbuttoning your blouse. He then slithers it down to the bottom of your long pencil skirt to pull up, greeting your undergarments with his digits. You jerk at the contact of his middle finger that presses on the damp spot of your panties, earning a faint, salacious laugh from Gojo.

“Awww, did my baby get wet just from kissing earlier?” He rubs the underwear further, soaking the spot more with your fluids. Your thighs tremble, “Did you miss me that much?”

“Sato—Oooh!” He sinks his finger deeper into your entrance; the material barrier is so wet from your essence seeping through. “Your finger...Mmm.”

“What is it, cutie?” He whispers to your ear, and you have to bite down on your lip to suppress a moan. “You want my fingers?” You nod sheepishly, amusing the snow-haired man. “Now, Y/n, you know I want to hear you tell me what you want. Use your words, princess.”

You gulp to satiate your dry throat. “Yess, Satoruu, I want your fingers. Please, let me cum on your fingers…”

“That’s my angel,” he praises before straightening himself between your sheer pantyhose-covered legs. After sliding your damp panties off, he brings a leg to his shoulder and finally slides his blindfold off his face, his hair losing its spiky position and falling with gravity. Cerulean eyes catch a glimpse of your wet cunt in his sights, biting his lip. “Made such a pretty mess all for me, huh.”

His hand returns to your now bare chasm, sliding his ring and middle finger between your soaking folds. You hum to the touch, gripping on your blouse to use as reins. After a few seconds, he inserts the middle digit inside, immediately going to work after he pulls a gasp from your surprised body.

Slow motions sneak up on you, scraping your velvet texture with the blunt fingertip. His slender digit pushed and pulled from inside you, making sure you took him to the knuckle. He swirls it around, evoking shaky screams from him, scratching your inner walls so diligently. And your eyebrows furrow once the movement quickens.

“Hooohh, ohhh!” You threw your head back to the pillows. “Ahhnn, faster, go faster…”

“Hmm? You want me to go faster?” He teases with a perched brow. He does as asked, but with a catch; he sneaks his ring finger inside with your slick as lube. You shriek, two fingers now ravaging your insides and pleasing you with faster shifts. “Like this?” Did you even have to answer that; were you gripping the sheets and hips moving on their own not enough?

“Oooo, fuahhh, fuuckk, ‘Toru, nooo, y’re making me…Hoohh!”

“Yeah, that’s right,” he kisses your calf before placing his lips on your ankle to lick playfully. “Just let me make you feel all good.”

Fuck did Gojo miss this; it’s been more than a week since he’s had his hands on your body like this. The constant meetings have almost made him forget the warmth and plush of your frame. He needed this, like, BAD. He’s barely containing himself now; the image of your slit taking his fingers so well is bubbling his excitement, and the tent of his pants that shields a boner grows painfully hornier.

You were bound to cum on his fingers in no time, howling with an arched back when he does the ‘come hither’ motion and scrapes your inner walls. They contract around his digits as your legs tremble with the surge of your orgasm. Gojo loves the sight and stirs the fingers to tease your keen nerves more. “Good job, sweetie,” he kisses your ankle again while slowly removing his fingers from you, inserting them inside his mouth to lather his tongue with your juices. He almost caves in just from the taste.

But a sudden buzz in the pocket of his pants alerts him. He brings out his phone ringing with a call and presses the green button before pressing the device to his ear. “Yo, Ijichi.”

“Ah, thank goodness you picked up. Where are you; the meeting starts in a few minutes.”

“Mmm, I’m at Y/n’s,” even if you’re in a tiny daze, your face morphed into an expression of shock at his nonchalant honesty. “I’m only here to grab something real quick, and then I’ll head back to the school.”

“Are you sure…?”

He laughs, “Now, Ijichi, are you calling me a liar?”

That was precisely what he was — a whole liar.

“—Taahh, ahhhn, Sa’oruuuuu! Yer hitting shoo deep in—Saaahh!!”

It’s been a solid fifteen minutes after that call with Ijichi, and Gojo is still in the confines of your bedroom. He was very much late; of course, he was. Why would he not be? He finally has this chance to have you to himself, so he’s indulging it however long he wishes.

Gojo ripped you out of your clothes to meet with his clothing on the floor, leaving you bare and nude for him aside from your pantyhose. You’re lying on your side with one leg up on Gojo’s shoulder while the other is between his, and his cock now pushing to and fro inside your chasm that was filled with his come.

His thrusts were sharp and rough, the curve of his dick jabbing areas in your vagina you never thought would be stimulated. Jesus, his length was dangerous, having you babbling incoherent words to the air and reaching so deep inside that you quaked under him. Your brain is stuck in a haze, especially since this is the second time he’s fucking inside you and made you cum a total of three times!

“Ohhmy, Gohhhd! Sato—Ohhhh…!!” He grasps around your leg to plunge himself further and faster, the work of his pelvis having you see stars.

“Hsshhh, God, you feel so fucking good, baby,” he coos sweetly, juxtaposing with the erratic pace of his hips that move your figure with every rut. Azure orbs take in the display before him; your naked body submitted to him to alleviate his week-long stress and please the both of you. Strands of his silverfish-white hair are drenched from the sweat built on his forehead. “—Hmmgh! Shit…keep clamping onto me like that.”

You chew on your lip, sneaking a hand down on your clitoris to whisk your fingers around it. Oh, it feels so good, playing with yourself as your boyfriend massages your insides. “Mmaaah, s’ good...”

“Hmm, what’s that?” His hips now go slow; the stretch his curve causes when entering inside has your toes curl. “What feels good?” He then snaps his pelvis to startle you.

“—Mmmph!! You! Y’u feel so good, ‘Toruuu..!”

“Heh, you feel amazing yourself, Y/n,” returning to an erratic rhythm, Gojo pumps his cock til the base kisses your squelching folds. His balls smack onto you after every push. He then curves downward for his face to be closer for you to hear him, “Hmmnn, you gonna be good and come again, right?”

You nod cursorily, your eyes shut to enhance the feeling of you rubbing on your bud. “Yesshh, I’m so close, I wanna cum…Want you to fill me u—Uuuhhn!!”

“Jesus, you look so fucking hot,” he grins before bringing his mouth to your nipple, his tongue dancing around the tip to harden. “Let’s cum together, okay, cutie?”

He sucks in your nipple as his thrusts go grim, and severe hits to your cunt result in you wailing far from your control. The tip of his cock picks at your silky walls so euphorically that you hum his name. A hand comes to your chest to keep you steady and synced with him, and he keeps rutting into you even when his body shudders as his load is exerted inside your tight slit. And you’re not far from him either; your orgasm seconds away from his hits you hard, and you quiver in the shocks coursing through your body.

As you two rock slowly through your crescendos, your essence mixes with his seed, and your sweaty bodies heave and pant for the third time this session. Gojo releases your nipple from his mouth after withdrawing his dick from inside, and his jizz seeps out of your frame. “Phew, man, how I needed that.”

You respond despite your brain feeling a bit all over the place. “Are you happy now?”

He laughs while kissing your cheek. “Thank you, princess!”

“You’re welcome, Toru,” you shook your head with a meek smile. “But you really should get going; I don’t want you getting in trouble with—“

KNOCK!! KNOCK!! KNOCK!!

An abrupt sound comes from the front door, confusing the both of you as the knock comes from out of nowhere. Nonetheless, you get up and wipe yourself quickly before putting your clothes back on. Gojo does the same as you walk out of the bedroom to see who’s at your door. And once you open the door, your heart meets your stomach.

“Y/n,” it was Yaga, the principal adorning his usual attire and sunglasses.

“Principal Yaga,” you greeted the older man with a hurried bow. “Wh–What can I do for you—“

“He’s here, isn’t he?”

Your lips flatten at the question, using the silence to speak for itself as you move out of the way for the principal to enter. Yaga apologizes for the intrusion before marching into your apartment and presumably going after the person still in your bedroom, who lets out an exclaimed shout of pain from what you can assume was from a punch to the head from his old teacher.

The former instructor strolls back to the front door where you remained; Gojo is dragged on the floor behind him. “Sorry again for the inconvenience,” Yaga puts his shoes back on before exiting your home. You observe the men leave with a heavy sigh, waving goodbye to your snow-haired sorcerer as he’s pulled across the hall like a toddler.

“See ya, sweetie,” he cries out to you without regard to the neighbors hearing him, putting his blindfold back on. “I miss you already!”

requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸

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gremlingottoosilly · 2 days

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So what about a Monster! Konig and Monster! Reader where Konig is this octopus eldritch hybrid and reader is some type of pretty bioluminescent jellyfish hybrid. Bonus points if reader literally just wants to be left alone and uses the jellyfish stinging tentacles on Konig but it just does work because he’s immune or something. (btw I’m in love with your writing and I’d marry it if I could.)

Being a jellyfish hybrid is a very nice life, actually. You're pretty but harmless enough to never have others hunt you just for the sake of their own safety. You have a very nice set of tentacles instead of a simple tail like most mermaids do, so you don't have a problem escaping most trouble and just minding your business. You never pick up fights with anyone, but you do have stinging tendrils in case someone wants to be brave and stupid. You literally just want to collect your little trinkets and sleep in the small cave you found for yourself. Konig doesn't get the memo. Of course, he is big, ancient, probably the strongest ocean hybrid out here - there aren't a lot of merfolks who had seen him and were alive long enough to tell the tale. He has an ego and a temper and a set of wandering eyes that always stare at the way your half-translucent tentacles are swimming in the water, reflecting the dim light of the cave stars. He is not used to other people rejecting him and surviving this, so you kinda understand why he decided to cling onto you. You just...you don't get why. He is an eldritch creature, the strongest out there - there should be a line of dumber mermaids willing to carry his brood and be happy baby mommas. You just want to collect human treasures and shiny jewelry. You sting him the first time he approached you. Konig, a creature of the depths, was enthralled by the soft light your body was emaciating; you can't blame him for being a bit curious. You can, however, blame him for the fact that when you stung him the first time, he moaned. Loudly. And this is how his obsession started. He follows you around, using his immunity to your poison as a free pass into your cave. you try to shove him off with your hands, but the creature is far too aroused whenever you put your palms on him, so you stop even trying after the first few times. He is horrible and distracting; he deserves nothing but the absolute worst, and yet you can't help but imagine how nice it would be if he used his large, muscular hands for something useful. If he embraced you instead of tugging on your tentacles if he would kiss you instead of barking laughter and whimpering moans whenever you do sting him. He is not fully immune to your poison...it's just that the feeling makes him cum almost instantly, and you're the prettiest creature he ever saw at the bottom of the sea. Pretty, cute, helpless against him, but can take care of yourself and the brood once he is finally filling you up with his eggs. Smile, for you have become his first and only wife. You literally just wanted to be left alone.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #yandere cod #monster!konig #tw: monster fucking

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nishions · 3 days

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phone call ⟡ p.sh

syn being on call with your ex-boyfriend wasn't the best move — but it also wasn't the worst...

wc 861 && trope second chance romance(?) mlist

note 🗒️ ; Hi. Ending is opened ended so Please don't Sob and yell at me in the Comments 🤗🤗 the end was kinda rushed so idk but anyway this was also inspired by a thriller book that i'm reading and i found this small scene pretty cute :p

"Sunghoon, I miss you"

The words flew out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. You didn't mean to say it — you didn't even realize you were thinking about it. "Sorry — that's the wine talking," you explain quickly. You pray he doesn't hang up.

He's quiet for a moment. Good job y/n — you thought — you just stated you missed your ex to your ex, stupid.

"Well, now it's the Sunghoon talking," he says with a chuckle.

You feel your heart do a flip. You missed this, too — his dumb, foolish jokes. You believed it was one of his best charms. You remember him telling you that eating miso soup made him "miso happy." "That's horrible," You'd say giggling.

"Oh please, you love it," He'd reply, and you did.

The phone is quiet again.

Until finally: "So what do you miss about me?"

You wished he just hung up. Or never picked up the phone call from you. "I miss..." You begin, hoping that the sentence will continue itself. Everything you want to say, but you don't.

You think about it for a moment, being careful of what you say to your ex on the phone. "I miss your bushy eyebrows," you say, like an idiot.

You find yourself staring at the ceiling of your bedroom, thinking. "I miss the smell of your cologne. I miss you complaining about how I always steal your hoodies. I miss your touch. I miss how polite you are to people. I miss having late-night talks with you before going to sleep together."

You laid yourself down on the bed, the bed that you both used to share. "I miss our light hearted bickering." The first "argument" you both got into was over pancakes and waffles — you thought waffles were better than pancakes and he thought the opposite. It was stupid — stupidly funny. You remember the look on his face when you said your claim, his eyebrows furrowed and jaw dropped.

"I miss teaching you english and your cute accent when you say things. I miss how you pronounced "ate" as "ete." You hear his chuckle through the phone and you laugh, too. You find yourself crying. "I miss your stupid, stupid dad jokes. I miss calling you handsome and you'd respond with an 'I know' with a stupid fucking grin."

"Language."

"Sorry." You sniff.

"Are you-are you crying?"

"No, shut up."

You pause.

"I miss you so much."

Another pause.

"I love you so much." You let out a shaky breath. You didn't care at this point, you just miss him. You miss him, You love him.

There's a silence, a long one. You breath in.

"I'm not good for you, y/n," the playful banter that was in the room two minutes ago left the atmosphere.

"I'm- I wish I was, and if I were I would've stayed. I would've stayed with you. But I'm not."

"Yes you are. You are good for me. I still want you Hoon, I don't care if you're bad for me. I- I just want you."

His breath hitched. You hear him let out a soft "fuck" before breaking the silence.

"Sorry," You mumbled. Sunghoon clears his throat before replying.

"No- I mean uh...Don't be sorry. It's fine, it's just-um,"

"It's just...just what?"

"I miss- fuck- I miss you too, y/n. I miss you a lot," he continues. You can tell by his words that he's nervous. After all, you did date him for 4 years.

A third pause, lasting longer than the two previous ones in this call. You wonder if this phone call was a bad idea. A drunken mistake. You want to bury yourself.

You hear him let out a sigh. "I'm sorry a broke your heart. I'm- well I was- I was being stupid."

"You should be sorry, you bastard," you say jokingly. You hope he laughs. He does, and you feel yourself smile.

"Y/n," he says. You hum in response.

"Do you maybe...um...perhaps start over?" Oh. Oh. You weren't expecting that. "Are you fucking serious, Park?" You ask in disbelief.

"Yes. Also, language." You giggle at this response.

"Right. Sorry." You let out another giggle. To which you assume it's the wine taking more effect on you. How much did you drink again?

"I can give you some time to think about it, if you'd like to think about it,"

"Sure...I mean it's not like I just cried to you on call and told you how much I missed you." He chuckles at this.

"You aren't wrong, but I assumed it was the wine."

"Maybe. Maybe not." You press your lips together before saying something.

"I will think about it, Hoon. And I'll tell you my answer when I make up my mind. Ok?"

"Yeah. That's-that's fine with me. I'm...I'm gonna hang up now. Goodnight, Y/n."

"Okay Hoon. Goodnight to you too."

"I love you too, if you were wondering. I never stopped and never will. Even if I wanted to."

You feel yourself blush. He ends the call and you hear the beeps from your phone. You let out a sigh and feel your eyes close on you.

permanent taglist (open — send an ask to be added) ; @ms-no1kpopstan @naespas @kyoaeri @copyhanni @lilacnini

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valeskafics · 2 days

Text

"Fairytale" - Gale Cleven x Reader

a/n: a request from my lovely @rougegenshin, i hope you enjoy this babe! this can be read as a standalone or better as a sequel to "over the rainbow" 🩷

Summary: Gale wastes no time making you his after he makes it home from war.

TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, tooth rotting fluff, christianity lol (they get married in a church), oral f receiving, oral m receiving, overstim, p in v sex, breeding kink, creampie

Word Count: 1,580

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Masters of the Air characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

You’ve dreamed of a fairytale wedding for as long as you can remember. You just never thought you’d get it with the man you’ve loved since you were thirteen years old.

The press was all over it, calling it the wedding of the decade. The up and rising movie starlet marrying a certified war hero was truly an American dream come true. You and Gale were the talk of the town. Every time you attended a premiere, he was there on your arm, gazing at you with those sweet gentle eyes while you posed for the cameras. You would trace his scars with your fingertips, looking up at him with loving eyes, and everyone absolutely loved it.

Was it a bit of a scandal that the two of you moved in together before getting married? Sure. But everyone was willing to brush it off. After all, you were paralyzed with fear when you thought you’d lost Gale. You couldn’t eat, think, drink, or sleep. Your thoughts were consumed by him, imagining the worst possible scenarios. And yet? Somehow? He kept his promise.

He came back to you.

You still remember that first reunion after he got back to the US. The way you ran into his arms, his embrace tight around you, holding each other as if you never wanted to let go. Gale’s tears soaked your hair, yours soaked his shirt, lips meeting each other in a feverish, desperate kiss. You’d almost lost each other. You’d come so close to never seeing each other again. Never feeling each other’s kiss, each other’s touch, each other’s love…

Gale proposed almost immediately. He sank down on one knee right there on that airstrip, declaring he’d find you a ring as soon as possible but that he needed to know here and now that you would spend the rest of your life with him. How could you say anything but yes? You giggled as he took you into his arms, twirling you around, the sound of his brothers in arms laughter echoing in your ears. Meatball bounded up to you next, practically attacking you by slobbering all over your face, clearly having missed you just as much as Gale did.

Bucky and Croz, all of them came to embrace you, congratulating you and Gale, asking when the wedding would be.

Of course every single one of them is invited. Gale stands with his best friend in the back of the St. Vincent De Paul Catholic Church. After all, you’re a Hollywood girl now. His hands tremble as Bucky does his best to calm him.

“What if I let her down?” Gale mumbles, “What if I’m not a good husband to her? A good dad to our kids? I just…”

Bucky rests his hands on Gale’s shoulders, giving him a reassuring smile, “Breathe, Buck. Just breathe. Now tell me something. Do you love her?” Gale nods emphatically, “Okay. How much?”

Gale lets out a breathless laugh, “How much do I love her? That’s like asking me to count how many drops of water there are in the ocean, Bucky. I can’t. I love her so much that it’s a physical pain in my chest at times. I see her and nothing else matters. Everything else fades away. The war. Our time in that camp. Everything. All I can see is her and that sweet, sweet smile.”

Bucky nods at his best friend, “That should answer your question. No one will ever be able to love her the way you do. No one will ever be able to make her happy the way you do. Now, quit being a big old baby and get out there and marry that girl before I grab the rings and do it myself.”

You’re a vision of beauty and grace as you glide down the aisle toward him, that white dress making you look like an angel, the veil covering your pretty face from his view. Gale’s lips part slightly as he murmurs out a “wow” under his breath, feeling Bucky smack his shoulder, muttering what a lucky sonofabitch he is. And God, does Gale know it. His heart pounds against his ribcage with every step you take toward him, the pink shade of your lipstick visible from beneath the veil, as well as your radiant smile.

Meatball trods up, serving as your ring bearer, immediately attacking the both of you with licks to your hands, demanding to be petted. You ignore the priest’s protests as you bend down on your knees, no doubt dirtying the dress, and give him a snuggle, as does Gale, the two of you beaming at each other. And as Gale lifts the veil over your head, you take his breath away once again. You are everything he’s ever dreamed of, his every hope and wish come true as you say your vows to each other. He slides the ring onto your finger, admiring how beautiful it looks, the way it shimmers in the candlelight.

The way the candlelight reflects in your soft eyes as you gaze up at him so lovingly. And you say those words, and so does he.

“I do.”

The reception passes by in a blur, celebrities and family and friends alike all coming to give their congratulations, Gale watching as you spin around in your highest heels as you dance with your father, then with Bucky, looking like a princess. Bucky and Croz, of course, attempt to embarrass him with their toasts along with the rest of the boys - earning a bout of laughter from your lips that his heart racing, and Meatball gets into the wedding cake, completely ruining it beyond repair.

But neither of you would change a thing. It’s the most perfect of days, the day all of your dreams come true.

And the wedding night is no different. Gale’s fingers tremble slightly as he moves to undo your wedding gown, swallowing thickly as he watches it fall to the floor. You step out of it, wearing only your high heels, brassiere, and stockings, gazing up at him. You help him out of his jacket, his tie, then his shirt. Gale pulls you into a soft kiss, one that feels like the first time despite having kissed you nearly a hundred times before tonight.

But this kiss is so very different. It’s the start of a new chapter for the two of you. He lays you down on the bed, gingerly removing your shoes and placing them to the side, pressing a kiss to each of your ankles before he lets his pants fall to the floor, leaving him fully bare. You admire your husband, biting your lip as he crawls up over you, his hands tracing every bit of exposed flesh he can touch.

“I love you, Mrs. Cleven,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your neck, moving to nibble softly at your collarbone, “I’m gonna make you the happiest woman alive. I promise you that.”

“I know you will, Mr. Cleven,” you tease, running a hand through his hair.

Gale worships your body with his hands, his tongue, any which way he can. He tastes you for what feels like hours, mouthing at your slick folds until your body squirms away, desperate for reprieve. And even then, he continues, holding your thighs apart, eagerly lapping at you, wanting nothing more than to drown himself in your essence, in your taste. You’ve never felt pleasure like this, and even more shocking is when he spills himself simply by tasting you and rutting against the bed ever so slightly. The two of you share a laugh as you move to rid yourself of your brassiere, letting it fall to the ground alongside the rest of your discarded clothing.

His cock is already beginning to harden again as you begin cupping his balls, massaging them gently before mouthing at his tip. Gale’s teeth sink into his lower lip as he watches you work him to full hardness before you finally sink down on him, your wet, warm core enveloping him completely. Gale has never felt so complete as he does when he’s inside of you. He sits up, pulling you into yet another kiss, his hands cupping your breasts as you begin to roll your hips against his, bouncing up and down on him ever so slightly, moaning into his ear how good he feels inside you.

“I love you so much, sweetheart,” he grunts, his breath hot against your jaw as he kisses you, “You gonna let me fill you up, darlin’? Let me make you a mama?”

You nod eagerly, your breath coming out in soft pants as you plead, “Yes, Gale, please… Wanna start a family with you. Want everything with you.”

He flips the two of you over, pushing your knees up to your chest and begins pounding into you even deeper than before, his hair falling into his eyes as he looks into your own, the moment so glaringly intimate it’s almost painful. It’s almost hard to look, but you’re held hostage in his gaze. He kisses you again, feeling you reach your peak around him as he spills himself inside you moments later.

The two of you lay there side by side, trying to catch your breath. Gale reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours and smiles at you, “You’re my rainbow.”

“And you’re mine,” you beam back at your husband, pulling him into another kiss.

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loving-august · 1 day

Text

can i tie a ribbon around your biceps?

pairings. bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

genre. all fluff

links. navigation | masterlist

notes. Midterms is coming close and instead of studying, my mind popped an idea after the IG reel I saw months ago :))

You waited.

You waited for this moment to come.

Not that you are nervous around katsuki, goodness no. It's just, Katsuki has a knack of snarky remarks whenever you have something to do to him. And most of the time, he's busy with his job. Saving people from day to night was part of his daily routine. He’s the number 2 hero, of course. Although he’s not the actual number one hero, your words of praise kept him going. He’ll tease you for a sap. But he’s thankful enough with you staying by his side even during his worst and best times.

You waited for him from the living room as you lay down on the couch, scrolling with your phone. Soon, a sound came from outside. The sound of heavy boots and the sound of the key from the main door, indicates that he’s home. He always tells you to lock the main door even if you are still in the shared apartment with him, he cannot let any danger come to you.

The door opened, revealing your boyfriend in all his glory. He was wearing his black t-shirt, with his hero costume underneath and he was holding a briefcase with his gauntlets inside.

“I'm home.” he announced.

You rose from the couch and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “Welcome home, katsuki, have you eaten yet? I have leftovers. Your mom gave me food for the both of us.”

Katsuki grumbled, and he silently placed his things at the corner of the living room. The sound of his home slippers came closer to you as he inspected the food inside the Tupperware. “What did she bring?” He asked.

You let out a sly smile. “My favourite."

“Ha? That's the third time she gave us,” he went closer to the kitchen counter and took the Tupperware.

“Are you jealous?”

“hell no.”

You laughed at his reply. It is true that this was the third time that Mitsuki sent your favorite food whenever she dropped by the apartment.

Katsuki silently washed his hands as you prepared his food. After preparing, katsuki sat down and you sat down oppositely to him, giving the heart eyes to look at him.

“you're so handsome. Did I tell you that?” You started.

Before he took a bite, he looked at you with his eyebrow raised at you. “Don't beat around the bush. What do you want?”

He knows when you want something or him to do something. It's always that look you give him.

“Oh, you know… the ribbon thing with your biceps. Can I tie a ribbon around your biceps?” You popped the question.

“Headlock wasn't enough for ya? Such a greedy girl,”

“Come on! Wrapping a ribbon around your biceps is cute! But it would be hotter if you flexed your muscles and the ribbon would just snap, pretty please?”

He was speechless. Just how are you desperate to do that?

“Fine. But you're washing the dishes until tomorrow night.”

“I accept!”

You hurriedly left the dining table and went to your shared room. You quickly look for the ribbon inside the drawers of your closet. When you left the table, he let out a light chuckle.

“So fucking cute..” he said to himself.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED !!

#๑.made by aug #bnha x reader #bakugou fanfiction #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katuski #bnha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou x reader fluff #bakugou x you

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mphountitled · 3 days

Note

heyyyy!! my brain gave me a half-assed thought in the nighttime starring best friend/perv!Lee Minho and bimbo!Reader. Minho's ALWAYS flirting with and staring at you, but you just (somehow) never notice. he likes seeing you wear those little outfits that barely cover you up and always mentions that you should only wear that stuff for him. one day he was just at his limit after another failed attempt at flirting. so, he just pushes you against the wall. you can feel how hard he is behind you, but you didn't see this coming so you're freaking out. and he just tells you "i'm gonna have what i want. so you might as well take what i give you."

-💌 (p.s. i hope this was coherent) ((p.p.s. make sure you take time for yourself to rest and just breathe bc that beautiful mind of yours is so so important!! <3))

𝐏𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲

Lee Minho x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language, Angst, Insecurities, Jealousy, Possessive!Minho, Smut +18 (Minors DNI) dub/con, Bratty!reader, Brat Tamer!Minho, Perv!Minho, Dom/Sub Themes, Mean Dom!Minho, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Grinding, Mutual Masturbation, CNC, Overstimulation

Fueling the Dom!Minho agenda

You did not particularly deal well with being unliked. Everybody has to like you all the time and there is no concrete way to tell your best friend this. Especially while he's driving down the highway, with rain pellets beating down the windshield.

You did not look at Minho when you initially slipped into the car. So completely and utterly suffocated by embarrassment.

The call prior to being picked up had been less than savoury.

"Isn't it too early to be calling me to come save you from your date?" His voice was completely drenched in his ususual smug sarcasm, "Or was he just that fucking boring?"

"I've been stood up and I'm not exactly sure where I am."

Almost immediately, Minho forced you to send your location until he was speeding over to where you sat, in your little dress all alone under the awning of a Michelin star restaurant.

You had thought the worst of the evening was behind you…

The car is completely drenched in silence with neither you, nor Minho knowing exactly how the broach such a sensitive topic. You're embarrassed. He knows this. The only thing evading his understanding is why… Why are you embarrassed when you shouldn't be?

"At least give me a name or an address or something," Minho's voice is dangerously low and you peer up at him with wide eyes from the passenger seat. Seeing him so put together is wholly off putting. Dressed in nothing but his sweats and a polo shirt- all black, all Tom Ford- Minho's gaze is fucking deadly as he glares at the road ahead. His frustration manifests in the form of whitened knuckles gripping a steering wheel for dear life.

"Minho, I'm not giving you his address just so you can go and harass him." The fact that you even had to reiterate this is beyond your comprehension.

"Why can't anyone love me?" The rain droplets rattling Minho's vehicle only amplifies the question and for the umpteenth time tonight, Minho is overcome with mass frustration. Again, you should not be the one feeling unwanted. You should not be letting scum of the very earth dictate the trajectory of your self worth. To make matters impossibly worse, another car swerves into his lane, completely cutting him off from a seamless drive.

"I honest-to-God, just wanna have a word with the guy..." Minho says, swinging his head towards you, completely paralysing you with the depths of his endless dark eyes. Instead of waging a war with Minho (one you knew you couldn't possibly win,) you choose to accept defeat. It consumes your entire countenance as you sink down into the passenger seat, avoiding eye contact.

"Jesus, Fuck!" While Minho curses out the driver, you keep your head against the window.

"I think I'm cursed to stay single and bitchless for the rest of my life."

You didn't get it.

You were a fairly good girl, never once stepping out of bounds. Not at work: where you worked so diligently for a boss who didn't always deserve it.

Not in your adolescence: Where you never rebelled, not even once. You lovingly spared your parents all the heartache even after you matured enough to go to college.

Perhaps the reason all your dates ended with a certified ghosting was because you simply weren't cut out for relationships. That is the most harrowing thought of them all...

Minho's voice pipes up from beside you, effectively saving you from slipping into self pity, "I think you're overlooking one major factor when it comes to staying single and bitchless for the rest of your life," You're already rolling your eyes, "And what's that?"

You can practically hear the pompous smirk as Minho says, "I'm right here. I'm always right here."

Instead of responding, your tone remains wistful and airy.

"The guy took one look at me and gassed the fuck out of the restaurant." Your blood pressure is being shot to hell at just the very thought of the man (who had contacted you first, thank you very much).

Minho, who continued to glare at the wet tar road ahead, allows his mind to conjure up every possible way your 'date' might've died on his way home. Instead of voicing these homicidal thoughts, Minho instead, cleverly and cooly asks, "What kind of weirdos are you going on dates with?"

"It's like he decided reality didn't match what he saw on tinder and took it all back..." you conclude your rant with a heavy and listless exhale.

Your reply comes sickeningly quick. "The kind of weirdos that give me the time of day," and to make matters impossibly worse, you attach a pitiful and dry chuckle to the end of your sentence. "Not everyone is like you, Minho. Not everyone has the luxury of being the object of everyone's desires." His stomach sinks deeper and deeper with the sadness that coats your voice. Anything that might save him from this suffocating feeling at the bottom of his stomach brought on by the sadness in your tone.

"I just don't get it?" Your sad eyes watch as Minho pulls into the parking lot of his apartment complex.

"I didn't smell bad ‘cus I made sure to wear Chanel number five-" Minho can do nothing except clench his jaw. His grip on the steering wheel is deadly as he eases his car into the vacant spot… “and this dress Lix bought me for graduation- I mean he assured me I don't look fucking bloated in it so I assume I looked fine." He tries to make it through your pity party, really, he does. Whenever you found yourself in this state, slipping deeper and deeper into your insecurities, Minho found it terribly difficult to pull you out.

Difficult but not impossible

Instead of entertaining Minho's words, your mind wanders, “Maybe I'm just not hardwired for a relationship. Maybe all I'll have until I reach my deathbed is my rose toy and 5000 cats-”

"I'm telling you," he chooses to say instead, righting his shoulders and cutting off the engine as he forces that confident smirk back onto his face, "If you wanna get laid so badly I'm always a phone call away...."

And for some reason, that statement alone… that one little flirt becomes the undoing of your sanity. “MINHO BE SERIOUS FOR FIVE FUCKING SECONDS JESUS CHRIST!” You do not know, nor do you care if your voice is loud enough to bleed outside, enough to disrupt any passerbys. You've fucking had it.

“False. You have my fingers any time. Or my mouth-”

With men who disappoint you.

With men who say they'll show up but choose not to.

“I'm telling you I fucking failed this evening! I failed and you're not listening-

In what appears to be a snarky remark to the side, Minho mumbles, “I'm not the one that's not listening-”

Minho scoffs incredulously. That sunshine smile bleeds quickly into a dangerous glare and he watches as you type frantically across your screen. “Say what you gotta say.”

“I don't need your teasing right now, Jesus! The fact that I have to spell that out-” you release a sigh “Fucking never mind,” you feel utterly defeated, and before you brain catches up to the movement of your hands, you're already typing frantically for a ride assistance app.

“I didn't ask you to come pick me up, just so you could interrogate me-” before your sentence could become another uphill screaming match you shake your head in a way that has Minho's knuckles whitening across the inactive steering wheel. His patience was dwindling dismally and he had the vaguest suspicion that you know this.

In fact, you might have always known this: Which buttons to push to get which reaction.

He's noticed it for a while since the peroration of your ‘friendship’. Something that blossomed into a friendship when he so very clearly tried to make it everything but.

“I'm gonna take an Uber home,” you say in a tone he can only describe as bratty.

“I swear to fucking God.” he says, manic eyes crinkling at the sides in a smile of disablief, his tongue jutting against the inside of his cheek.

Minho's not sure what he wants to do but he's damn sure you're not going to like it. “If you set foot out of this car-” He pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index. Quietly muttering Korean expletives while you sit meekly, taking your scolding. “If you set foot out this car-”

“You're not my father, Minho,” he flinches. “I'm getting my uber-”

“Try it, see what happens.”

“Minho, goodnight.”

The last thing you expect to feel as your hand touches the car handle, is Minho’s larger hand covering your wrist in a calloused grip. His hand is firm, almost concrete and before you're able to process this, he's already dragging your face towards him.

“W-What the f-fuck, Minho, let me go!” the words come out mangled and squashed because Minho has his hands squishing your cheeks in an equally iron grip. Enough to have your teeth pushing against the inside of your cheeks. Enough to have tears stinging your eyes.

“Why the fuck do you never listen?” He whispers, almost to himself. As if he's completely forgotten about the girl, leaning over the centre console because he's squishing her cheeks for dear life. You anticipate the bruises. You can almost feel them coming on.

“It's like you purposely want to piss me off-”

Despite the aircon pouring warm hair to combat the Korean chill you feel very much icy all over. It's as if the chill has seeped into your very bones and it's not long until you're completely wracked in a series of violent shivers. You have never experienced anything like this.

Minho watches in apparent awe at the way your pupils, dark as they, dilate into even darker slits. His hand shifts silently from your cheeks, to your jaw, and lower until his hand is wrapping around your neck.

“Are you wearing panties right now?”

The question hurtles through your foggy brain like a runaway train until you're forced to bore your eyes into his, “What?”

“Which pair are you wearing right now?” He asks, despite the hand already drifting from your neck, all the way down your body. He swipes his hand against your slightly damp skin, prying your thighs apart with his hand as if it were nothing. “I wanna see which you were planning to have on for him,” he knew he wouldn't like, whatever the outcome may be, but he's only just begun this game and he's not ready to stop.

“Minho.” Your hand shoots out to cradle his bicep, which proves to be a deeply harrowing mistake for someone as inexperienced as you are because his arms are so firm, so taut. You instinctively find your thighs opening just a fraction wider, even as you say, “I don't think we should do this.” You begin oh so slowly. Hoping to convey with your eyes, that which you refused to say with your lips. “I want you to stop.” Minho is absolutely breathless at the sight of the stars sparkling in your dazed eyes.

He knows exactly what you want and he's damn well going to give it to you. An escape.

“I've never known a bigger slut than you, you know that?�� So casual. So forward. His words nearly have you whimpering into the quiet air.

“I can see how badly you want this,” Never ever letting his gaze stray from your helpless expression, Minho pushes his hand further into the apex of your thighs and you wait. You wait with bated breath for the euphoria to trickle in by the cold tips of his fingers touching the lace of your underwear. “You want it so bad, don't you?”

“I-I- don't,” you force the words out with your hands unknowingly wrapping themselves around Minho's forearm. “This whole time, you knew,” he laughs dryly as he lets the pad of his fingers finally reach your clothed cunt. Your legs are trembling. “You fucking knew I wanted you and yet you still went on your little date anyways,”

That has you momentarily slipping out of your subspace, but before he lets that happen, he's rubbing slow circles against your cunt, with his right hand, a hand closest to the console, easier to reach the most intimate parts of you.

“didn't know, Minho,” the whimpers leaving your mouth are soft, so intimate, like the colour pink personified and it has Minho squeezing his eyes shut for all of a few tense seconds.

When his eyes flutter open again, the old Minho is nowhere to be found. Gone is the overly flirty best friend. Gone is the unnecessary jokester. Gone is the dry humour. The only thing in its place is a stone whisper of a smirk as he says, “Ride my hand.”

“W-What-”

“You don't talk,” he says, before sliding your panties to the side, “Useless little girls don't get to talk.” He says, racking a moan from straight out your throat as his hand presses against your drenched heat. “Useless little girls don't even get to speak.”

“Minho-”

“All you think about is getting to cum, right?” There's so much of a condescending nature in its tone, it almost has you instinctively tightening your grip on the forearm between your legs and pushing your heat against his fingers. The sight of you so worked up by his bad words have Minho cursing under his breath.

You're watching him as if he invented the stars, as if to say ‘What else’, and it drives him to complete madness.

“F-Fuck,”

“She knows how to say bad words,” he cackles as you squish your soaked cunt against his calloused palm. His knuckles are pressed firmly into the seat and his wrist is giving out but his horny brain fog is far too powerful.

“That's it, Petal,” he says, watching almost as if slipping into his own trance, “fuck my hand, I wanna see how bad you want it-”

“P-Please-” You whisper, “I need your cock-”

“You don’t get to make demands when you're being punished,” he mumbles, before leaning his head back against his seat, watching you desperately try to bring yourself to orgasm by rutting your hips against his hand. “Unless, you don't need my help and you'd rather just make yourself cum-”

“NO!” you keep a firm grip on his forearm, bottom lip quivering as you stare at him with wide eyes. “I'm s-so close, please.”

Minho can't help it. The very act of you asking him for something as sacred as an orgasm… It has him trying to adjust the bulge forming in his sweatpants.

“You're close, yeah?” He asks, now entering his own pleasure. He slips his left hand into his boxers while he watches you ride his hand.

“You’re close from humping that wet pussy against my hand?”

“Oh god, yes,”

“You’re such a good fucking girl you know that?” His breathing is heavy now because he's jerking himself off to the same pace as your cunt rubbing itself against his hand.

“You're such a good whore,” he whispers.

“Call me that again- p-please I’m gonna cum!”

“I've always wanted to treat you like the whore I know you are,” he whispers, watching as your eyes slip to the back of your skull, “I hated watching you go on those dates.”

“M-Minho-”

“Kill them,” he whispers silently, “I’ve fucking wanted to kill every single one of them.” he squeezes his cock, feeling his own ripples of pleasure shoot down your spine.

“Y-Yours,” you whisper, “I'm yours-”

“F-Fuck baby-” Sensing Minho slipping into his own prgasm, you grind your cunt harder against his hand. It doesn't take much for you to make a complete mess all over his seats. You're both wracked with a wave of shivers and Minho tries to keep his eyes open as he milks his cock for all it's got. He wants to watch your hips stutter. He wants to see how you look when you cum and he wants to commit it to memory.

He decides it's the most addictive thing he's ever seen.

“No fucking way you made me cum all over myself like some fuckcing teenager,” he grumbles, staring down at the mess he's made all over his shirt.

You're still a panting shivering mess and you yelp when Minho squeezes your sensitive, overstimulated clit.

“Hey,” he says, gaining your attention immediately, “No more dates yeah?”

You do nothing but nod.

#lee minho #lee know #lee know x reader #lee know x you #lee know x y/n #lee know smut #lee minho x reader #lee minho smut #minho smut #stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids

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literaryavenger · 10 hours

Text

Obsessed

Summary: Your crush on Bucky may be getting out of control.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Warnings: Dramatic Reader. Language. Angst. Fluff. My poor attempts at being Funny.

Word Count: 1.4K I'm physically incapable of making anything short.

A/N: I wrote this in like 2 hours and I don't even know what this is, just... Yeah.

Masterlist

This is terrible.

This is the worst thing that's ever happened to you.

This is the worst thing that's ever happened to anyone. It's just the most horrible, dreadful, awful thing that could’ve ever happen to yo-

“Would you stop staring at him for fuck's sakes!” Natasha's hissed words make your eyes snap to her and finally away from the metal armed Supersoldier lifting weights. Shirtless.

You don't know when Bucky stopped feeling self-conscious enough to allow him to workout in nothing but a pair of gym shorts, but it has become literal torture for you.

Needless to say, Bucky's current level of undress is making it impossible for you to concentrate on the stretching you're supposed to be doing before your sparring match with Natasha.

But your very thoughtful and not at all exasperated friend makes sure to keep your attention on her during the entirety of our match by thoroughly kicking your ass.

What a lovely best friend you have.

Anyways.

Your entire mood shifts with one not intentionally overheard conversation. Steve enters the gym and goes straight to Bucky, who was putting his weight set down.

“She’s here!” Is all the blonde says to his friend and your heart stops at the way Bucky’s face lights up with a smile, not needing any more information before following Steve out of the gym.

She’s here? Who the fuck is she? Does Bucky have a girlfriend? And most importantly, she’s here? In the Compound?

Natasha can almost see the gears turning in your brain as you make no attempts to move from the mat after she knocked you on your ass for the hundredth time today. You didn’t even seem to notice her hand offering you help to get up, your eyes still looking where Bucky was just a moment ago, staring at nothing in particular while your brain drowns in your overthinking.

Natasha sighs and decides to end the match here, kneeling down in front of you and placing her hands on your shoulders, shaking you gently to snap you out of it.

“Don’t overthink this.” She tells you when she’s sure she has your attention. “It’s probably just a friend visiting.” She tries to comfort you, but you both know that’s highly unlikely.

Bucky has no other friends outside the team. He doesn’t know how to talk to civilians anymore after everything he’s been through, and gave up trying to after the hundredth time he saw fear in a person’s eyes just by recognizing him. So his friend circle now includes the team and the agents of SHIELD that are not intimidated by him. Point is, every friend he has already lives in the Compound.

So who the fuck is here just to see him?

Natasha can see that this is a lost battle, your eyes barely concentrating on her as you start drowning in your mind again. All she can do when you’re like this is try to distract you and keep you out of your head. So she takes your hand and helps you up, leading the way to the common room to watch one of your beloved romcoms together, because that’s how much she loves you.

Big mistake.

“Y/N! Y/N!” The excited high-pitched voice came just seconds after you set foot in the common room. And that’s about the only warning you got before the excited 5-year-old jumped on you, your reflexes thankfully quick enough to catch her.

“Hi, Maguna!” You say while chuckling as the little girl hugs you. “You seem excited today. Did you get into the sugar cabinet again?”

Morgan giggles at your joke and shakes her hand before taking your face in her little hands and dramatically saying, “No! A princess came to visit uncle Bucky! A real princess.”

You frown, confused at what she’s talking about, before you look around the room and finally notice everyone else in it. Pepper and Tony are on the couch, looking at you lovingly as you interact with their daughter.

You love Morgan, she’s like a little sister. You never miss an opportunity to babysit her and you spend as much time with her as you can. She also loves you, out of all the Avengers you’re her favorite, much to everyone’s dismay. She calls them all ‘aunt’ and ‘uncle’, but you’re just Y/N. You’re her big sister, you don’t need a title. Which is why you're the only one other than Tony allowed to call her 'Maguna'.

Then you notice the other people in the room: Steve, Bucky and… Shuri. The fucking Princess of Wakanda, standing in the common room of the Avengers Compound and just smiling at you as you carry Morgan.

You’ve never met Shuri, but you know she played an important part in deprogramming the Winter Soldier out of Bucky, and you’re grateful to her for it. She’s important to Bucky, and you can’t believe you forgot Bucky has Wakandan friends.

You put Morgan down on the ground again and the little girl takes your hand and aggressively steers you towards where Steve, Bucky and Shuri are standing, clearly thrilled to be in the presence of a real life princess.

“Hi, I’m Shuri.” She offers you her hand when you get close enough and you shake it with your free hand while introducing yourself.

There’s a bit of an awkward pause and you’re about to say the first thing that pops into your head when Morgan thankfully saves you by pulling on your hand, making you look at her. She tells you to come close and, chuckling, you kneel beside her so she can whisper conspiratorially in your ear.

“She’s a princess and she’s really pretty, but I still like you better.” She whispers and you can’t help but laugh.

God, you love this little girl.

You smile brightly at her and launch a tickle attack, her adorable giggles filling the room as everyone looks at you two with warm smiles.

Your attention is solely on Morgan, until you unintentionally hear the whispered conversation between Shuri and Bucky.

“So, this is the girl, huh? She’s pretty.” Shuri says and your heart skips a beat.

You glance at them as discreetly as you can while still tickling Morgan, only to find Bucky looking at someone behind you. You turn around less carefully and see Sharon just entered the room, and she's also looking at Bucky with a smirk. You quickly return your attention to Morgan, but your mind is going a thousand miles a minute.

Of course he’d like someone more like Sharon. She’s pretty, she’s talented, she’s a total badass and she’s not afraid to go after what she wants.

She’s not a mass of anxiety in the shape of a woman that overthinks everything and becomes a flustered mess every time she’s even near Bucky.

It’s time to admit it to yourself: Bucky just doesn’t see you like that and you need to move on.

Natasha is right, your obsession with Bucky needs to end.

What you don’t see is Bucky almost glaring at Sharon because he knows damn well why she’s smirking. She came in just before Shuri whispered to Bucky, when he was very intent on looking at you with heart eyes as you played with Morgan.

Just before you looked at him, Bucky noticed Sharon and he had to hold in a groan at her because he knows that she’s never gonna let him live this down.

Both Sharon and Steve have tried really hard to convince Bucky that you like him back and he should make a move on you. But Bucky, being as stubborn as they come, never believes them.

He obviously makes you uncomfortable, you’re always stuttering when he’s around and you avoid eye contact whenever possible. He’s just glad that you can stand his presence enough for the two of you to work together when necessary and to hang out with the rest of the team without problems.

So he just enjoys looking at you from a distance. He loves watching you play with Morgan and his thoughts always run wild with images of you playing like that with kids that are yours and his.

But he knows that’s never going to happen. Why would you like a damaged, PTSD ridden soldier that can’t even make it through the night without waking up from a nightmare? No, that’s definitely not your type.

Bucky accepts the truth: He doesn’t deserve you and you don’t see him like that anyways.

It doesn’t matter that Sam thinks he’s obsessed, that won’t stop him from looking at you whenever he’s lucky enough to get a glimpse of his little ray of sunshine.

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elisespage · 2 days

Text

in which your constant nagging for a cat finally makes jude give in.

“but jude…” you whined, trailing off to try and see if his usual reaction has changed from his annoyed face to his ‘i’m giving in’ one.

a deep sigh left his lips as he looked up from his phone, being met with your puppy dog eyes. god he’d love to just say yes and give in. but a cat wouldn’t be such a good idea right now.

the pair of you had only moved into your madrid apartment a couple of weeks ago and he wasn’t even sure pets were allowed.

every night, jude would listen to your rambling about cats and how independent they were. countless videos were being sent to him of cats doing funny things and he nearly did give in when you shown him a litter of kittens that were being given away.

“how many times, y/n? no cats.”

he tried to sound stern but he let a little out when you slumped back into the bed, a frown on your face. “but did you know that seventy percent of a cats life is just sleeping? that means hardly any work.”

he turned his phone off and the bedside light, getting under the covers with you. “thanks for the information y/n, but i’m still saying no.”

“you’re no fun,” you huffed, turning around to face the opposite way. jude wrapped his arm around your waist, pecking your neck a couple of times. he hated it when you were mad at him.

it wasn’t like you were mad at him. you were mad at the fact you couldn’t get a cat, and he was a big part in why you couldn’t. maybe you were.

“come on. listen, if you give me a kiss maybe i can ask the building manager-”

jude was cut off by your abrupt movement, your lips meeting his and arms wrapping tightly around him. “have i ever told you that i love you?”

“several times a day.”

when your alarm went off to wake up for work, jude was nowhere to be found. you just assumed that he had gone to training early so you went to work like everything was normal, the conversation from last night being pushed to the back of your mind.

after a long day of work the only thing on your mind was relaxing in the bath with a glass of wine. but that idea was also pushed to the back of your mind when you opened the front door.

jude stood in the middle of the living room, a box at his feet and a confused look on etched all over him.

“whats up, buttercup?” you asked, dropping your keys into the bowl and joining his side to look st the various boxes at his feet.

“okay, you can’t freak out. well you can, but you can’t scream.”

now your confusion was evident and you were starting to think the worst until the sound of small feet were heard. you looked down and saw the most gorgeous tabby cat staring back up at you and you gasped.

“you didn’t!” you screeched, picking the cat up and kissing it all over. it licked your face and then wriggled so you put it down. “oh my god, jude!”

you figured all the boxes were cat supplies and your boyfriend kneeled on the ground, opening the biggest box which turned out to be a cat scratching post. “i thought maybe you’d like to help me. i can’t even understand the stupid instructions.”

the pair of you spent the next hour sorting out the food bowls, the scratching post and even all the little toys jude had bought for her.

“what are we going to call her?” you wondered later when you were snuggled up on the couch, the cat lay on your lap with her arms stretched and resting on your chest.

he paused the movie and grabbed the laptop, googling cat names. “peach? coco? muffin?”

“i kind of like coco. but that’s too girly,” you sighed, staring down at the cat with ideas swirling in your mind. “how about friday?”

you turned to face him, eyebrows furrowed at the unusual name that jude had come up with. “why friday?”

“because it’s friday. also, we met on a friday. and we had our first date on fridays. and we also got this place on a friday.”

fridays seemed to always pop up in your life, always at important times as well. so friday seemed to work well.

“friday. i love it,” you giggled, pecking jude on the lips. “i love you too.”

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #football #football x reader #elisewrites

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pinksturniolo · 17 hours

Text

Biggest Hater - Part One

Matt Sturniolo x Fem Reader

Part 1 of 2

Alternate version of my Chris fic: Biggest Fan

Requested by the baddest! @muwapsturniolo

Summary: You just don’t get the hype of the Sturniolo Triplets like almost every girl your age does. It probably has a lot to do with the fact that you went to high school with them and Matt Sturniolo particularly, got on your nerves more than anyone you thought ever could. In fact, it has everything to do with that. And when you run into him a couple years later, at the peak of their fame, your feelings haven’t changed one bit. No matter how attractive you find him.

Content warnings: smut, fingering, thigh riding, car sex, loss of reader's virginity, mean!matt (even tho he’s an angel irl), ANGST AF, enemies to lovers trope (somewhat?), slightly toxic, weed smoking

disclaimer: matt and reader are both of age in the prom flashback. also, dont drive under the influence if that wasnt already obvious lol

word count: 4,325

Hate is a strong word. What does it really mean to hate someone? It’s a powerful human emotion that many say is dangerously close to the emotion of love. To feel so strongly about someone, that every time you see them or hear their name it evokes a strong reaction in you, can cause your heart to race in your chest, and your hands to shake.

That’s how you felt every time you saw or heard of Matt. Whenever you visit your family home in Somerville, that’s practically all you hear people talk about. How famous he and his brothers are now and how successful they’ve become. Literally every girl you know has a crush on them. Even your roommate, Stephanie. It gives you a migraine how much people talk about them.

You couldn’t help how much of a hater you were. It wasn’t like you to be like this, you were usually supportive of mostly everyone, especially people you knew or grew up with. You went to high school with the triplets, so you had the privilege firsthand to experience how they were before their YouTube fame.

Chris was funny, always making jokes in class and very talkative. You didn’t mind him as much, during the few interactions you had with him, you found him to be sweet and he was known as kind of a player, but you never saw or heard of him treating a girl with disrespect.

Nick was outspoken and opiniated which you appreciated, and always nice to everyone. You actually got along with him really well, usually pairing up with him for projects in the biology class you two had together. He even invited you over to his house to hang out a couple times, but you politely declined. You adored him but there was one person you just could not be around that would be there.

Matt. He got on your last nerve like no other. He had the worst attitude, and it bothered the fuck out of you. He was pretty quiet, and he often missed school. But the times you were around him, he gave you the dirtiest looks and rolled his eyes whenever you spoke. Why? You had no clue. He was also an instigator, constantly pitting you against Chris and Nick for no reason, which they usually ignored but it pissed you off, nonetheless. There was just something about him that fueled rage in you like you’ve never felt. And it did not help that you were so goddamn attracted to him.

Let’s be honest, all that tension and angst is bound to create a type of energy that just can’t be ignored. Even if it’s caused by someone you can’t stand.

Then, came senior prom. The events of that night and what happened after, forever solidified your hateful feelings towards him.

You had gone with separate dates of course, but somehow ended up alone together by the end of the night. You had a suspicion that your friends and his brothers had something to do with it, but you sat in awkward silence and moping next to him on the bleachers as the rest of your senior class danced on the gym floor.

Large social events like this were not your cup of tea and neither for Matt. You rest your chin in your hand as you lean on your knees, watching your date dance like an idiot. He was your ride home and you were starting to get fed up, tempted to call your parents to pick you up or even order an Uber.

“What an idiot.” Matt says to you, his eyes also on your date.

You scoff, “Yeah, tell me about it.”

“I mean, I knew you were a loser, but I didn’t think you were that desperate.”

You turn to glare at him. “I don’t see your pathetic date anywhere.”

“She was talking too much for my liking.”

“Wow, what a gentleman you are.” You shake your head, eyeing his outfit up and down. “Looks like you didn’t put much effort into your appearance either, so she must not be that special.”

He smirks at your response, his eyes on your body as well. “I wouldn’t be saying anything with that tacky dress you have on.”

You hit him on the arm, anger filling you from his words. “You’re such a dick.”

“Ow!” Matt rubs his arm, his face scrunched up in pain. “Now I see why your date left you, you really are a brat.”

You huff in annoyance, beginning to wonder why you were even sitting here next to him. You stand up, picking your dress up from around your feet so you can step down the bleachers.

“Wait, hold on.” Matt says suddenly, wrapping his hand around your wrist to stop you from leaving.

You stop and look at him, your eyebrows raised in expectation. His fingertips burn into you and his eyes somewhat soften when you look into them.

“Fuck- my bad. I’ll stop, I promise.” he says, stopping you from leaving.

You’re surprised at his words and his fingers removed from around your wrist, when he sees that you’re not leaving, standing over him. He avoids eye contact with you while you stare at the side of his face, his hands now stuffed in the pockets of his suit pants.

His hair is longer now than it usually was, a middle part that showed more of his face and he wore a pair of earrings that you secretly liked. Despite your earlier comment, you also thought the suit looked really good on him. Matt had always had a good sense of fashion, but if anyone asked you, you would say his wardrobe is basic and unattractive.

“You better have a good reason for me to stay Matt because I’m starting to get tired and I just wanna go lay in my bed.” You tell him, waiting for him to say something, your arms crossed.

It’s then that he pulls a joint from his pocket, a mischievous look on his face.

“You can get stoned with me and relax for once in your life.” He says and you hesitate for a second before he stands up, and starts walking down the bleachers, motioning for you to follow.

You don’t know why, but your feet seem to have a mind of their own as you follow him, out of the gym and around the corner of the school. At this point you really had nothing better to do, even if it meant getting high with Matt.

He leads you to the football field across from the gym to the press box at the top of the stadium. You both sit inside, smoke starting to fill the small room as you and Matt pass the joint back and forth until it’s finished.

You both are actually engaged in a conversation that isn’t an argument for once and you find yourself giggling with him. Whether it’s because of the weed or because it’s prom night, you’re not sure.

You look at your phone, the time now almost midnight. “I should probably head home.” You say, getting ready to call your parents.

“Do you have a curfew?” Matt asks, a look on his face like he’s hoping you’ll say no.

“Not really…” you answer, setting your phone back down on your lap.

“Wanna go for a drive?”

✿

Matt watches with a smile as you as you catch your breath, laughing hysterically from his spot-on impression of Nick when he’s angry. You wipe the tears from your eyes, having laughed so hard you were crying. Your hair has fallen from the perfect curls you took extra time on earlier, the strap of your dress sliding down your left shoulder.

He realizes you have a nice laugh, not hearing it often since you’re always pissed off around him. You look beautiful, even more than you usually do, especially like this. The moonlight shines on your skin and he can’t help but stare at you until you catch him, and he looks away shyly, his heart starting to pound in his chest.

You’ve both been sitting here for the past 30 minutes, parked at the now empty neighborhood playground by your house. Matt had driven around for a while, even stopped to get McDonald’s, before he decided the night wasn’t over just yet and lit up another joint after your highs came down.

Now you both were absolutely shitfaced, having the most fun you’ve had in a while. It’s surprising how much you and Matt actually get along under the influence, probably because it calmed you both down enough to forget your stubborn tempers and just enjoy good conversation and laughter.

“Why didn’t you ever come hang out when Nick invited you over? I’m having a blast right now.” Matt says, leaning his seat back a little to relax.

“I think you already know that answer.” You reply, and your eyes trail down his body and the way it looks as he leans back. He removed his suit jacket when you guys were in the drive thru earlier, and the sleeves of his white dress shirt are rolled up, his tie loose around his neck.

“Come on, you can’t really hate me that much can you?”

You sigh, looking away from him and out the window. Of course, he’s oblivious to how much he would actually bother you.

“Are you really that clueless?” You ask and look back at him. His eyes are glazed over and slightly red but incredibly blue.

“When it comes to you… yes.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, ignoring his response while brushing a hand through your hair and picking it up off the back of your neck. “God, its hot in here.” You say and he watches as you move your hair and lean your head to the side, your lips parted. Your slender neck looks inviting, and he can see your pulse jump.

He rolls the windows down slightly, letting most of the weed smoke filter out. His eyes are still on your face and when you return his gaze, this time, he doesn’t shy away.

“What?” You ask, the look on his face makes you nervous. He licks his lips as he looks back and forth between your eyes and your mouth, his jaw clenching.

The smoke has cleared but the air feels incredibly tense now as you stare back. Soft music plays on the radio and the wind blows through the trees outside. You feel like you’ve been transported to an alternate reality, the turn this night has taken starting to not feel real.

“Has anyone ever kissed you before?” Matt finally speaks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You feel your face heat in embarrassment at his question. “Uh… n-no.”

You internally cringe at the way you stutter, and the corners of his lips raise slightly at the flustered look on your face.

His hand comes up to your jaw, his thumb lightly brushing over your bottom lip. “Can I be your first?”

It’s no question that Matt has always found you attractive, even though he’s never voiced his thoughts to anyone about it. The problem is, he doesn't like most people and when it came to you, he just couldn’t swallow his pride enough to let his guard down. It turns out you two are extremely similar and it made you butt heads constantly. So, instead of letting himself let someone in for once, he chose to dislike you and it had always been easier that way.

But the way you look tonight, the infectious energy he’s getting from you now that he’s been alone with you for more than 5 minutes, it has him feeling something he’s never felt before.

Electric sparks crackle through you from his light touch on your lips and you almost open your mouth to taste him. But you’re still incredibly nervous. You haven’t had your first kiss yet, your first anything yet but all your thoughts can repeat is yes, yes, yes. Please be my first.

You nod and he leans over the middle console, his hand now firmly holding the side of your face, his fingertips sliding into your hair. Your heart threatens to go into cardiac arrest as he slowly presses his lips to yours, as if you might break like fine china.

But once your lips are connected, your nerves start to disappear and are replaced with feelings of excitement. They mold together almost perfectly, as he kisses your bottom lip and then your top one, his thumb stroking over your jaw. It feels incredibly sweet and tastes like sugar.

He pulls away slightly, his face still hovering over yours. You make eye contact and put your hands on his chest, your fingers grasping his shirt collar, afraid he might move away from you. “How’s that feel?” He breathes, his voice coming out in a rasp.

“Amazing...” You reply and he bites his bottom lip, his pants tightening from the look of pure want in your eyes. Before he can say anything, you kiss him again, this time with hunger and it feels like you’ve done it a million times before.

You expected your first kiss to be awkward, maybe even a little embarrassing. But this is nothing like that, your body heating and heart racing at the feeling of his wet, warm mouth against yours. He leads the kiss, both hands now on your face, his tongue sliding against yours.

It has your panties growing incredibly wet under your dress, and your breathing rapid as you grasp the tie around his neck, pulling it so he can get even closer than he already is. And then, he moans into your mouth and the sound has butterflies erupting inside you.

You decide you need more and push him back a little, disconnecting your lips. He starts to protest but then immediately stops when you climb over the middle and straddle him in the driver’s seat.

Luckily, the van is spacious and you’re not too uncomfortable as you sit on his lap, your dress riding up on your thighs. He places his hands on your hips as you kiss him again, gripping the silk harshly.

You can feel how hard he is under you, and he groans when you unknowingly grind against him, your body moving faster than your mind can think.

“Don’t do that.” He pants, catching his breath and stopping your hip movements. His eyes are closed, his eyebrows scrunched together as if he’s in pain. Your hands are on his broad shoulders, and they dip into his dress shirt through his loose collar, running your palms over his skin.

“What’s wrong? Does it hurt?” You ask and you move your hips again, this time a little slower. The feeling of his clothed dick against you has sparked a feeling of need in you that you’ve never felt.

He shakes his head, throwing it back against the headrest, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard. His grip slightly loosens on your hips but still tight on your dress as he allows you to grind down onto him. Your head falls into the crook of his neck as you let the pleasure of your movements take over.

He lets his eyes travel down to his crotch where there’s a large wet spot forming on his pants from your arousal. “Fuck…” He moans aloud and his dick throbs from the sight. He lifts your dress slightly and sees the outline of your lacy red underwear, his hands moving to grope your ass.

You’re panting against his neck and start to place soft kisses on his skin, eliciting more groaning from him. You reach your hand down to his belt, starting to unbuckle it.

“Y/N.” He says, stopping your hips firmly now. The tone in his voice makes you pull your head up and he’s trying to keep his resolve from completely slipping when he sees the way your eyes are blacked out in lust.

“I don’t want to do this if you’re not ready.” He says, searching your eyes for any hint of fear. He honestly didn’t expect an innocent kiss to turn into this.

You should’ve said no. You should’ve stopped it then and there, should’ve asked him to take you home.

Should’ve.

Could’ve.

Would’ve.

“Matt, I want this so bad right now. Please.” You whine, arousal clouding your mind and the feeling of your body on his is something you can’t refuse.

He gives in, his eyes on yours as he unbuckles his belt, and you lift slightly so he can pull his pants down just enough to the middle of his thighs. He guides you back down on him, this time so you sit around his left thigh.

You’re a little confused but he wraps his arms around your back, one of his hands tangling into the back of your hair as he holds you against him. “Just relax. Grind on me like you were doing earlier, baby. You were doing so good.” He instructs and the way he calls you baby has your heart fluttering in your chest.

He kisses you, and you do as he says, the feeling of his thigh tensing under you making your body heat with arousal again. You moan slightly, as you slide over him. He then pulls your panties to the side, so you’re bare against him, and the feeling has you both gasping.

“Oh… my god.” You breathe, failing to kiss him back as you shamelessly moan his name. You feel a strong need inside you, and you let your body move against him fluidly, your wetness coating his thigh.

Matt knows what he’s doing. He knows it’s your first time and he wants you to be comfortable. Granted, the minivan might not be the classiest place, but he’s enjoying it if you are. He wants you to know what it feels like to have an orgasm all on your own (besides the help of his thigh) before he’s inside you. Before he absolutely ruins you.

You’re whimpering now, your hips picking up the pace as you chase a different kind of high. He feels incredible and you want to feel embarrassed at the way you’re getting off on his thigh right now but all you can think of is how good it feels.

“Fuck, you’re so wet..” he groans, his own eyes closing in pleasure at the way your pussy feels, slippery and warm on him.

“Matt…” You whine, and he presses his forehead to yours, his hands on your lower back, helping you ride him. “I know baby, let go. Its okay.” He says softly and the coil that’s been building for the past 20 minutes since he kissed you, finally releases and warmth floods your body. You moan loudly and feel yourself leaking on his thigh, your hips slowing down.

You’re out of breath as your movements stop, your heart still racing. “So good, baby. You did so good.” He whispers and you can see and feel how hard he is in his boxers, as your hands brush over him. He grabs your wrists before you can continue.

“Nuh uh.” He simply hums and lifts you up slightly. “Get in the back.”

The dominant tone in his voice causes butterflies again as you climb off him and into the back seat, laying down. He follows shortly after, unbuttoning his shirt so it’s completely open now and pulls his pants all the way off. He puts one arm above your head as he hovers over you, a dark look in his eyes.

His soft hand moves up your thigh, goosebumps erupting across your skin, and he pushes your dress up to your waist. Your red panties are stilled pulled to the side, the wetness from your previous orgasm coating you. He bites his lip, running his fingers through your folds. You gasp from the feeling, still a little sensitive from earlier.

“Let me know if you need me to stop, okay?” He says and you nod, gripping onto his bicep.

He spreads your legs a little further, your knees against his waist and pushes a single fingertip inside you, slowly easing his finger in. There’s a little discomfort at first but it’s quickly replaced with pleasure when he starts pumping it in and out of you. He adds another finger, and you whimper at the feeling, this being completely different from when you were riding his thigh.

“You okay?” he asks, continuing to slide his fingers in you. “God, yes.” You moan, closing your eyes to the feeling. He smirks at your response and the sound of your wetness has him buzzing with arousal. He’s been incredibly attentive to you and patient, and his boxers are suffocating his achingly hard cock.

Your hips start to buck, as you crave more, his fingers starting to hit a spongy spot in your walls, a slow fire spreading within you. He removes his fingers completely, pushing your hips down.

You pout at the loss of contact, and he chuckles, pulling himself out of his boxers. “Not yet, sweetheart. Be patient for me.” He says and your eyes travel down to where he spreads your arousal from his fingers on his cock, stroking a few times to coat it.

You heard he was big but had assumed they were just silly rumors. You were so wrong.

You continue to stare, and he guides himself to your entrance, his hand now forcing your head up to look at him. “Eyes up here, baby.” He says, a smug smirk on his face.

He places a hand on your waist, his other hand still against the window above you as he pushes the tip into you. It’s a little overwhelming, and you’re not sure how he’s even going to fit all of it in you, but his touch relaxes you as he rubs soothingly over your hip, going as slowly as he can.

He’s halfway in, the burning already starting to disappear as he soon eases all the way into you, and your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head as you clench around him, the feeling of him snug in your walls.

“So fucking tight…” He groans, his jaw clenched and squeezes a little harsher on your hip. He leans down closer to you, his arm coming to rest next to your head. He stays still inside you, letting you adjust.

“Matt.” You moan, your hands moving into his hair, tugging at the roots.

“Yes baby? You feel alright?” He checks.

“Yes. Please move.” You respond and he obeys your words gladly, pulling out almost all the way only to bury himself inside again. He makes slow, deep thrusts into you and the feeling has your head swimming, your thighs clenching around him, and your jaw dropped open slightly.

The feeling is indescribable, and he struggles to not cum inside you after only the first sixty seconds. That’s how good you feel around him, soaking wet and so tight.

The windows of the van are completely fogged, the air thick and hot. Your moans and whimpers are swallowed as he kisses you, his thrusts slowly picking up in pace. You both are speechless and there’s an unspoken realization between the two of you as your bodies move together in sync, your lips attached, breathing in each other’s air. The outside world has drifted away, the sweet bubble of pleasure and desire encasing you two.

“Matt.. I’m gonna cum again..” You warn, feeling the release build and build, your legs starting to shake.

“I know, Y/N. I want you to, please. Cum for me.” He responds and the movements of hips against yours are uneven now, his own release slowly crumbling. You cry out as you orgasm for the second time tonight, your walls clenching around him. He’s panting your name as he releases his seed into you at the same time, his fingertips leaving bruises on your hip.

“So fucking proud of you.” He murmurs, an exhausted smile on his face.

Mind shattering. Body numbing. Earth quaking, unforgettable sex. Nothing compared to it.

These are the memories flooding your mind as you sit on the leather couch, a cold drink in your hand, and your friend next to you, leaning over to talk into your ear over the loud music of the party. “No fucking way. Are you seeing what I’m seeing right now?” She says and you take a sip of your drink, nodding your head. “Yup.”

Matt stands at the other side of the large living room, laughing with Chris and Nick and a few other people. He hasn’t noticed you yet, but as you keep your eyes on him, it’s as if he can feel you staring. He turns his head in your direction and once he makes eye contact with you, his smile falls, and for a second, he almost looks upset, his eyes lingering on you.

And then he looks away, whispering something to Chris and walks off, towards the hallway.

Of course, he would run away as soon as he saw you. He’s pathetic.

In fact, you feel pathetic thinking you wouldn’t run into him here in Boston, his hometown. At a party one of your mutual friends is throwing no less. But still, you were hoping, no, praying that the one time you decide to leave your house and socialize, you wouldn’t see him.

And now your heart feels like it’s going to fall out of your ass, your head filled with old feelings you can’t escape. You hadn’t talked to Matt since that night, two years ago. You hadn’t even seen him since graduation. You avoided any video or clip of him that would come across your phone. You couldn’t bear to look at him.

You fucking hated Matthew Sturniolo. For many, many good reasons.

a/n: please dont come at me for making matt so mean in this one!! 😔 and if this flops ill be so sad lol i hope yall like it so far

taglist <3: (if you want to be added/taken off, reply to this post or comment on my masterlist. and if you weren't mentioned, it wouldnt let me tag u :/)

@sturniolopepsi @tillies33ssss @whicked-hazlatwhore @riasturns @christhopersturniolo @junnniiieee07 @sturnsjtop @seahorsie11 @inveigledvex @honestlyjb @mattslolita @certifiednatelover @glassesmattsbae @eryismum @sturncakez @sturnioloco @wh0resstuff @ribread03 @sturniololoco @75sturn

#Spotify #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic

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adelheidvonschicksal · 23 hours

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Megumi falling in love for the first time?

Attempts at Friendship are Unappreciated

Synopsis: Megumi doesn’t have a need for friends, let alone a lover. But upon getting his first crush, he learns some new things about himself, like maybe he cares more than he thinks.

pairing: Megumi Fushiguro x GN!Reader

content warning: SFW, potential friends to lovers, Megumi sorting out his feelings sort of stuff because cynical, overthinker Megumi is my favorite Megumi.

If you were to ask Megumi, he didn’t have any need for friends. And he has been asked before by people like Gojo and his sister. The answer was always the same. He prefers being alone. People were too complicated. Too selfish. Too good. Too everything, really. And he was, well, himself.

Even after arriving at Jujutsu High, it’s still unnerving to him to have someone talk to him so earnestly, like his eyes weren’t permanently fixed with irritation, like he wasn’t constantly avoiding others, like he didn’t wear indifference like a new fur coat in the height of winter.

Itadori was an unexpected exception. An outburst of emotion intravenously linked him to the other boy, the golden strings of their destinies twined and knotted together on Fate’s spinning wheel.

You, on the other hand, have no reason to befriend him. He’s never had anything to offer others in return for their company, which never bothered him until he met you.

Megumi questioned what it was about you that allows you to get so close. So, he lets you talk, chattering his ear off in the covered walkway hosting the vending machines.

He studies you inch by inch, searching for something in the bright expression on your face and the crinkle of your eyes when you smile; he still doesn’t know exactly what he’s looking for. Your motive – the reason for wanting to talk to someone like him?

“What’s your favorite color?” you ask.

“I don’t have one.”

It may sound like a rude dismissal of your question but it's the truth, the painfully boring truth. He’s never put much thought into trivial things like that. The fact settles heavily in his stomach and rings hollow in his chest like when his sister said he’d never learn to make friends if he didn’t put himself out there.

Back then, Megumi pretended not to have heard her. In truth, it bothered him when she said it, only for the feeling to quickly fade away before he even left school that day. That strange void he felt back then always seems to resurface at the worst of times.

“Would you say that you like black or silver better? How about blue?”

Megumi looks down and plays with the tab on his orange juice can, avoiding the thing about you that makes him want to hear you talk. Megumi has no need for friends. Attempts at friendship aren’t appreciated.

“They’re all fine,” he grumbles out. It’s the maximum he allows.

Megumi doesn’t have a type. It’s another one of those trivial things he’s never bothered to think about until his head was literally cracked through the pavement.

He knows all about types though, and he knows as much as he cares about romance from the bad to the good. Sweaty palms, blushing faces, pounding hearts were all reoccuring themes in his books.

Megumi never thought he’d have romantic feelings for anyone, no matter how fleeting. He reckons he isn’t capable of it. He just isn’t wired that way.

It’s comforting in a sense. It means he didn’t have to worry about attachments. Sure, he loves his sister, and Gojo, well, he cares for his benefactor, but he’s never considered the older man someone he felt okay investing all his feelings into. People his own age were complicated enough; adults were worse, his father was worse; the little he remembers anyway.

When he thinks about the way he met Gojo who too conveniently saved him from the Zen’in clan in exchange for becoming his student, it’s hard for him to let his trust flow purely even after all this time; even when Gojo took it upon himself to do Megumi favors like putting Itadori's room right next door (another thing Megumi didn't appreciate).

Megumi blames his long-seated resentment for the reason his heart starts to work overtime the day you present friendship bracelets to everyone. They’re fancy; many steps above the cheap kind that you’d find at some discount convenience store with plastic alphabets and random beads and symbols. He assumes a couple of the pieces might be real.

Kugisaki’s is green, shining on her wrist like emeralds. Megumi thinks it suits someone like Kugisaki, who would undoubtedly love to be covered in jewels. Itadori has a similar one, rotating with a pattern of red and opaque white pieces.

Standing in that hall, drowning out the conversation between Kugisaki and Itadori about who has the prettier bracelet, Megumi realizes he’s next.

It starts when you step in front of him; there’s a cautious tone to your voice when you say his name because you already know: attempts at friendship aren’t appreciated.

It's with a roll of anxiousness, the one that always comes with the mystery of whether his exchange with someone will be positive or negative and the skeptic thought in his head that reminds him most people always want something in return, that makes him throw up a wall.

“These probably aren’t your thing but I made one for you too,” you preface. “I hope you like it. I wasn’t really sure what to put on it so I made some guesses.”

You’re right. Friendship bracelets aren’t his thing; needing a token like a bracelet to prove your relationship to someone is asinine. It’s against what is supposed to make a friendship special. Strong friendships should need no words, right?

Most importantly, he doesn’t need it, and there’s no reason for you to give him one.

“You keep it,” he starts. However, it’s already too late as you grab his arm and slide the trinket over his hand.

“I don’t—” he starts again; there’s a bit of surprise in the way you look at him, the way everyone stops and looks at him actually. This quickly becomes one of those times where it’d be easier to go with the flow than to fight the current. “Fine.” He clears his throat. “Only because you already made it,” he explains more fully, stifling the embarrassment that wants to bubble from his chest with so much attention.

Like before, he finds himself too focused on watching you, the way your eyes soften from surprise and rejection to shining stars. He thinks this must be how the protagonists in those books feel when heat creeps up their neck. Those books also left him sorely unprepared that it would go past neck to his face and ears.

He breaks away from the situation, finding a way to retreat into the background to shield himself from the gooey feeling permeating the air. He drops his gaze to his arm, focusing on the bracelet with his name accompanied by a repetition of blue and silver, connecting the two—four—of you together.

Megumi fixes his sleeve over the bracelet, but he can’t hide how painfully aware he is of the charms rolling against his skin.

It was both a pleasant feeling and completely alien.

It broke.

Megumi was a bit reckless against a low-level curse, and it broke. He didn’t even realize it until after the battle was over and one of the silver charms were rolling under his foot.

It shouldn’t have been a big deal. It was bound to happen eventually considering this line of work. Yet, he still picked up the few pieces he could separate from the gravel, and the entire ride home his wrist feels unreasonably bare.

Thinking about how he messed up makes him annoyed at himself, especially when he wonders what you’d think if you noticed he wasn’t wearing it. You’d probably think he tossed it somewhere; that he didn’t like it. He liked it. The same way he likes to listen to you talk on car rides home after missions or when you ask him to hang out with you and the others or when you read all the books he recommends with the protagonists that are quickly becoming too relatable with every skipped heartbeat and tongue-tied word. He’s frustrated to acknowledge why that’s the case.

It’s only been three months since the start of the school year, he thinks. It took only three months for his thoughts to start drifting to his classmates, with you almost always center stage in them.

When he arrives back at the school, he finds your room and knocks on your door. He shows you what little remains of the gift you gave him, as if he needs to immediately absolve himself of any wrongdoing.

“Do you want me to make you another one?” you ask cautiously.

Megumi can guess why you’re hesitant considering he only accepted your gift because of peer pressure. He still believes gifts like this are silly and unnecessary.

But…

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

He wants it.

So, he goes into your room where he watches you begin the process of making him another bracelet. You ask him which accessories he would prefer, and like always he doesn’t have much preference other than what you think is best. As long as it isn’t too silly, of course.

He gives his undivided attention to how your fingertips pour over your work kit and the many square boxes filled with different miniature shapes before you carefully pick out one with a little dog face.

“I think this one is good,” you whisper to yourself before continuing your search for another complementing bead.

You smile as you work. It’s nice. Cute even as you bite down on your lip in concentration; and right now, he isn’t quite sure what to do with that information other than note the way it makes his palms feel clammy especially when he notices your eyes lift back up to his.

Megumi notices a lot about you actually. He notices how you always go out your way to get his, well, everyone’s opinion on everything. He notices that whenever you share your snacks with everyone that you always save ginger for him. He notices how your gaze lingers on him when you ask if everyone is in one piece after difficult missions. He also notices how your finger stops over a silver square, one with a little black heart carved in each side. He wonders, perhaps too hopefully, if the charm is just one you think he’d like or if it means more than that.

“Why do you always keep trying to talk to me?” he asks, fighting the urge to beg you to stop getting stuck in his mind so much.

Your head snaps up from what you’re doing.

“What do you mean? We’re teammates,” you answer simply.

“Aren’t missions enough? We don’t need to interact aside from that.”

You pinch your eyebrows at him, and there’s a frown on your face. “Sure we do.”

“There’s no reason.”

It’s not like he ever saved your life, not like Itadori. It’s not like he has a somewhat familial relationship with you, like Gojo. You’re not his sibling or his parent; he’s not the friendlist either so there’s no reason to try to get closer any more than necessary, and there’s no reason for him to be feeling so nervous right now.

“How about because I like talking to you? I think you’re pretty funny, and you’re a kind person.” You shake your head, laughing. “I don’t know. I just like being friends with you.”

Megumi doesn’t know what he was expecting. Some deep explanation why you keep trying to get close to him? Some selfish excuse from you that he could use to warrant pushing you away. A reason to justify why he likes you so much? A reason to hope you like him just as much?

Maybe.

There doesn’t need to be some special reason for you wanting to be his friend, which means he doesn’t really need a reason either.

“I see.”

“Finished,” you say, holding out his newly made bracelet to him. “I poured some of my cursed energy into it, so it won’t break so easily next time.”

Megumi feels calm once again when he feels the weight and roll of the beads on his skin again; the aura of your curse energy humming through it makes the connection back to you much more noticeable.

“What about me?” you ask, drawing his attention. “Do you like being friends with me?”

Megumi can’t answer that, not because he doesn’t have an answer, but because he feels like his tongue weighs more than lead as you lean closer into him.

His eyes find your lips, soft and parted. This is the first time he’s gotten the urge to kiss someone. It makes his stomach whirlwind, and he quickly finds a way to answer you without having to look at you as he picks at one of the charms.

“Can I make you one?”

The next morning, Megumi decides to go out with you and the others for breakfast, which in hindsight was a mistake as Itadori points out the new accesory you’re wearing on your wrist.

“Hey, you got one too now.”

You smile, holding it up proudly. “Megumi made it for me!”

“Megumi?!” Itadori blurts out.

“Made it for you?” Nobara asks with raised eyebrows and a hand on her hip.

“He did a really good job.”

It’s like the time before when you first gave them their gifts, and everyone is looking at him again. “I didn’t do anything special; a monkey could do it,” he mumbles out.

Itadori is the first to crack a laugh followed by Kugisaki. Then, the two of them start muttering and teasing him in unison.

“He’s so modest,” Itadori points out.

“Loverboy,” Kugisaki whispers.

“Can we call you Megumi too?” Itadori asks.

Megumi doesn’t have the patience to consider whether the other boy is being genuine or not as he grits his teeth and growls out a quick “shut up” before konking Itadori on the head to prove his point. It’s enough to make them leave him alone for now as Itadori accidentally trips into Kugisaki from the force.

“That was completely unnecessary, Fushiguro,” Kugisaki grumbles as she pushes Itadori off and stands back to her feet.

Megumi sighs.

This is why he doesn’t want friends.

“Did you just sigh at me!”

“If that’s what you heard,” he tells her.

“You better sleep with both eyes open!”

“I’ll be sure to do that.”

Yet if it’s those two then he guesses having friends isn’t completely unbareable.

Suddenly, Megumi loses focus at the timbre of your laugh.

“You guys are starting early today.”

You’re still laughing at them, harder now actually, and it’s precious. He throws his gaze to the wall as if he’s ignoring Kugisaki and not trying to hide the heat blooming on his cheeks when you glance at him, making him aware that he’s the reason for your laughter.

Megumi shoves his hands in his pockets and rolls his thumb over the bracelet and the heart you left behind there.

Friendship is something he’s coming around to. Having a crush for the first time, well, he still needs work on figuring that out.

#megumi fluff #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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selenaa5 · 3 days

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Overview: Geto and gojo are best friends who are both in love with you. They invite you over to drink and smoke weed. This is completely consensual as reader also is into it!!

Geto x Gojo x y/n

Warnings: smut, weed, alcohol, 3 some, oral, double penetration, anal and vaginal penetration, praise and degrading kink, cream pies, hair pulling, choking, consensual sex

You walked into gojos room and saw him and geto on the bed already rolling up a joint. The bed if full of snacks and 2 bottles of alcohol. They both look at you and smile widely. They both take in your look, you have on just a hoodie and shorts underneath. You hurry and jump into bed with them and start talking about your day. They pretend to be fully interested in what you were saying but they weren’t. They just wanted to get you drunk and high. You lay on your stomach between them and light up the join taking the first hit. You passed it to Gojo. He took a long hit as he looked you in the eyes, you blushed a little at his eye contact already feeling the weed in your system making you more shy than usual. Gojo slows the smoke into you eyes and laughs at you coughing from the cloud of smoke. Geto moves closer to you and wraps his around around you cuddling into you for an second then moving back away. You giggle at this. 2 joints later you get thirsty from the cotton mouth *worst thing ever btw 😞*you open the bottle and start to drink it as if it’s water the boys start yelling words of encouragement telling you to chug. After you chug the bottle you get up and run around the room from the burning taste. Both men laughing at you and grabbing you and throwing you onto the bed.

“God you’re such a drunk y/n.” Geto laughs stroking your stomach..raising your hoodie to expose your stomach and shorts.

“I kinda like it, she’s so cute when she’s cross faded haha” Gojo rubs your head.

You continue to giggle for no reason as you just pretend to understand what they’re saying. They look at each other knowing that now is a time to initiate their plan. They both lay next to you and cuddle into you taking in your smell..a mix of perfume and the weed. You try to get up from in between them..sitting up. They both lay their head of your shoulder and kiss you neck lightly not to scare you.

“Huh..are you guys okay, what are you doing hehe” you say with a slur.

Both boys continue to kiss you neck. Gojos hands rub up your stomach to your breast he cups them over your sweatshirt. Geto licks up to your neck and starts to leave hickeys on your neck. You whimper at the touches form the boys. They notice and it only encourages them more.

“Take your sweater off sweetie..” Geto says sitting you up so you can easily take it off.

You listen to them taking off your hoodie in a quick motion that got you back dizzy and flopping back onto the bed.. Gojo gets to the end of the bed taking off your short and panties at the same time. Cold air hits your slipper wet pussy, both boys take a minute to adore your wet pussy on display. Geto joins gojo as both of their faces are in front of your pussy..Geto moves first slipping his index finger into your pussy folds experimenting with your reaction. You close your legs shut as a reaction to his teasing. Gojo chuckles and opens your legs holding them down with just 1 arm. You moan form both of their teasing. Geto continues to slip his fingers in your fold collecting your juices..he finally slips a finger in. He can feel how hot and tight your pussy is already.

“Wow…so tight baby. Can barely even fit a finger” Geto purrs in a teasing way.

Gojo laughs at his comment, being jealous that Geto is the only one pleasing you right now. Gojo moves his finger to your pussy as well slipping his finger in with geto. You moan loudly feeling your pussy tighten around their fingers..you had thought about having sex with them for a long time but you never thought about having sex with both at the same time.

You felt your pussy tighten after a minute of them both fingering you, they curl their finger in the right spot getting you to your orgasm. You cum harder than ever, possibly from the alcohol and weed. Both men groan feeling your pussy tighten around their finger.. Gojo leans it and licks your pussy cleaned. He moans tasting your cum on his tongue wanting more as he grinds his crotch into the bed.

Geto takes his clothes off quickly feeling his dick hurt against his underwear. When he strips his pants his cock springs out, it made your jaw go slack seeing his big cock throb and pre cum leaking form his tip. Geto lifts you up onto his lap making your straddle your bare pussy against his throbbing cock. Gojo joins geto in taking off his clothes. Gojo sits besides you and rubs his cock against your ass trying to get some kind of friction. You grab Gojos cock and start to stroke it, he throws his head back moaning at your strokes. Gojo had a very pretty cock..it was super thick and veiny. Geto takes this as a good time to try and slip it in. His tip is pushing against your entrance..he struggles to slip it in from how tight you are. You whimper feeling your pussy get stretched from Getos dick..he finally slips it in and you both groan from the feeling.

“fuck…it’s so tight. Gojo..put it in her ass” he chuckles to Gojo.

You whimper at the thought of both men inside you at the same time.. you look back at Gojo and nod your head in approval. Gojo jumps behind you and slowly stretches your ass also. You scream from the sudden stretch and the pain. Gojo and Geto both kiss you neck and lips as a way to soothe you and make you forget the pain. After a few minutes the pain turns into pleasure as you slowly grind on both of their cocks. You throw your head back and onto Satorus shoulder from behind you. Gojo takes a handful of your hair and pulls it lightly. Geto joins in chokes you as he bounces you up and down holding onto your waist making you bounce on both of their cocks.

“You’re such a slut riding both our cock..we should get you drunk more often, huh?” Gojo whispers into your ear making you moan as you shake your head yes not able to speak clearly feeling yourself already close to another orgasm.

“You’re taking us so good baby..making me feel so good. Ima already so close..wanna fill your little pussy up so bad. Can I?” Geto whines into your ear pleading to cum already.

You groan and shake your head yes allowing him to cum early. Both Gojo and Geto hold onto your body and thrust into you faster than before feeling themselves close to orgasming. You cry from pleasure feeling your pussy and ass tighten around both of their cocks drill into you. All of you guy groan in pleasure as you guys all cum at the same time. Both men filling up your holes to the brim as they continue to grind in you to calm themselves down from their highs. You following them by creaming around their dicks and going limp on them feeling your body sore and tired.

Both men chuckle as you go limb…Gojo gets up and grabs a rag from the bathroom to clean you. After cleaning you they lay you into bed with them as they cuddle your naked body. You guys fall asleep :3

AN: this is my first time writing a whole smut so I hope you guys enjoy. I wanted this to be a longer one since it was my first but my next ones will be shorter :)

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu gojo #gojo #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu geto #geto smut #jjk smut #smut #geto x reader #geto suguru

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jgracie · 1 day

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LOVE GROWS (WHERE MY ROSEMARY GOES) — PERCY + CHILD OF DEMETER

masterlist | rules

❝ Hiya,can i request if you have time,Percy dating a Demeter kid?Thank you💕 ❞ — anon

in which percy dates a child of demeter

pairing percy jackson x demeter!reader

warnings me projecting as a child of demeter LOL, one swear word

on the radio . . . love grows (where my rosemary goes) (edison lighthouse)

an never stop requesting demeter!reader guys (i live vicariously through her) also this features another travis cameo LOL him and percy are bffs in my head ALSO the watering can thing is inspired by stardew valley i cannot wait for the day i get to upgrade to sprinklers

Percy’s never been a morning person. However, he has been forced awake at ungodly times due to nightmares

This was one of those times. He could barely remember what the dream was about, all he knew was that it was bad enough for him to wake with a start, his body drenched in sweat as he tried to recollect himself

Looking over at the clock on his bedside table, Percy could barely make out the time: 5:35AM. Well, there was no point going back to sleep now. Even if he did, he’d probably just be visited by nightmares again

So, Percy slipped the nearest t-shirt on and left his cabin, unsure of where he was heading - maybe the beach to cool off? Who knows, he was in disarray. The worst dreams were always the ones you couldn’t remember, the fear of them possibly being important haunting your day

Suddenly, Percy smelt a comforting scent waft through the air. He’d never smelt anything like that before. It couldn’t be ambrosia or nectar - while they both had good scents, they weren’t half as strong as this one. What could it be?

He decided to follow his instinct and find where the smell was coming from. Which led him to cabin 4

Despite it being right across from his own, Percy never paid cabin 4 much attention. Not until now

He continued following the scent and ended up at the back of the cabin, where there was a huge garden filled with what Percy believed to be the most appetising fruits and vegetables he’s ever seen. To the side, there was a greenhouse, where he could see the silhouette of a person

Curious, Percy made his way over to the greenhouse. He’d never spoken to a Demeter kid before, but he’d heard of your nurturing nature and kind hearts in passing

“It’s okay, Cassie, you can go back to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up, I promise,” Percy heard a voice say, stopping in his tracks. Deciding to take a peek, he found himself facing an angel

You were rocking a young girl who seemed to be six years old at most back to sleep in your arms. Wherever you went, the flowers in the greenhouse bloomed brighter, gravitating towards you and wrapping their stems around your arms, almost as if they were vying for your attention

The girl’s face was tear-streaked, but she nodded, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You smiled and ran your fingers through her hair, praying to your mother that she wouldn’t have another nightmare

You hated when the younger kids got nightmares - they could barely understand the fact that one of their parents is a God, let alone comprehend the strange demigod nightmares

Then, you noticed him. When you locked eyes, Percy felt as if the last puzzle piece of his life was finally put in place. Was it too early to say you were made for him?

“Hello! Welcome to Flowers and Vines (shoutout to Stella for naming it!), how may I help you today?” You said, your cheery tone snapping Percy out of the trance you put him in. Walking inside (he’d been simply listening next to the door), Percy sheepishly rubbed his neck, hoping you didn’t think he was some weird stalker

Percy looked around, now fully being able to see everything your greenhouse had to offer. His mom would love this place

“Oh, I’m good, thanks… I didn’t know you guys had a flower shop here! That’s really cool…” Percy said, trailing off at the end once he realised he didn’t know your name. He was a little embarrassed, but luckily, you didn’t seem to mind

Giggling, you continued for him, “Y/N, my name’s Y/N. And Flowers and Vines is more than just a flower shop, we sell produce too! Mr D’s kids help us with the grapes.” As you told him all of this, you were going around with a pretty pink watering can and watering every single plant in the whole greenhouse. Surely, there must be a more efficient way to water them all?

That morning, Percy decided he would buy a flower from you. When you’d asked which one he wanted, he simply told you to surprise him

“These are some of my favourites,” you said while wrapping your flowers of choice - to Percy, they looked like every other pink, round flower out there, but he’d learn the difference for you. These were now special

Handing him the little bouquet, you continued, “Rhododendron - ‘I shall never look upon your like again’, that’s what they mean. I don’t see them around much anymore, which is why I planted them here!”

It was almost like you knew Percy would never look upon your like again. When he’d asked you how much they were for, you insisted on giving them to him on the house. After much arguing, Percy accepted, keeping them right next to his bed. Something about them made the nightmares a little better

After that day, Percy couldn’t stop thinking about you. Everything he saw around him reminded him of you - from the flowers in the forest to the smell of mangoes in the air as their season arrived

He’d see you occasionally, too, and would shyly wave whilst hoping you didn’t notice the way his face turned a bright red when you waved back

You thought Percy was really cute, too, and were a little disappointed when he didn’t show up a second time after your original rendezvous. You began taking on so many shifts you might as well have been working at Flowers and Vines full time. Your siblings (as well as Dionysus’ kids) teased you relentlessly for this, but you didn’t care. You just wanted to see him again

And then you did

Percy’s idea was one that was suggested by none other than Travis Stoll. He was simply catching up with the son of Hermes when he’d brought up the fact that everyone working at Flowers and Vines watered the plants using watering cans (something which had been really bothering Katie)

When Percy had asked why they did that, Travis explained that they used to have sprinklers but after the Ares cabin tinkered with them once (they were bitter over a game of Capture the Flag), causing the water to go all over the place and killing a lot of the flowers, the sprinklers were unusable and currently being fixed by the Hephaestus cabin

That’s when Percy came up with it. Since he was a son of Poseidon, he could spread water from a source as far as he wanted to. Therefore, he could help with your issue and have an excuse to talk to you

Immediately, Percy ran to the flower shop/fruit market he’d grown to love so dearly

“Hi! Is Y/N here?” He asked one of your siblings, breathless. They nodded and pointed behind them, smirking as they snuck knowing glances to your other siblings

There you were, in all your glory. You seemed to sparkle under the Sun, watering the flowers with your little pink pot. When the water ran out, you sighed. You really needed to invest in a bigger one

Just as you were about to go fill it, Percy proudly announced, “you won’t have to do that anymore!”

You couldn’t believe your ears. As you turned around, you fought the urge to hug the boy. Despite only speaking with him once, you really did miss Percy

Intrigued, you followed Percy to the fountain in the middle of the greenhouse. Before, it used to just be for decoration (since you had sprinklers), but now it came very handy for refilling your watering cans

Extending his arm towards the fountain, Percy willed droplets of water to hover in the air, then, with one motion, threw them all over the greenhouse, watering your plants perfectly

“Oh my Gods, Percy, this is amazing! Thank you so much!” You exclaimed, running over to him and giving him a peck on the cheek. It was a spontaneous decision mainly done because you were getting quite tired of manually watering all your plants

After that, Percy began working at Flowers and Vines as your temporary plant-waterer. You, your siblings and Dionysus’ kids would all cheer when he’d appear, and he’d play into it, making a big show out of getting the water out of the fountain and sprinkling it over the plants, winking at you as he did so

The plants seemed to flourish even more than usual, too. You told yourself it was probably because water from a son of Poseidon was more powerful than normal water (or something along those lines), but you knew the truth

As a child of Demeter, much like your mother, your emotions influenced nature around you. When you were sad, plants would wilt and wither, mimicking the winter Demeter creates whenever Persephone is in the Underworld

The opposite was true. Whenever you were happy, plants would blossom and bloom all around - and you were really happy when Percy was around. Which is why you needed to tell him before the Hephaestus cabin fixed your sprinklers

However, fear got the best of you every time you tried to get the words out of your mouth. Despite practising several times with your siblings (and even once with the Aphrodite cabin), whenever you tried telling Percy, you’d get shy and vines would grow out of your head, tangling with your hair and acting as a shield

Unfortunately for you, Percy couldn’t tell from that that you liked him, so you simply had to get over your fears and say it

Your confession happened on Percy’s last day as your plant waterer. That morning, Katie had pulled you to the side, telling you to hurry up your confession to Percy as she and Travis couldn’t delay the Hephaestus cabin any more (they were getting quite annoyed, having worked on the sprinklers for so long. What did those Ares kids do to them?)

So, you spent the whole day bracing yourself for Percy’s arrival. All you had to do was say it, get his response and move on with your life. It wasn’t that big of a deal!

After Percy watered the plants, everyone watched in silence, waiting for you to say something

“Hey… Percy, can we talk?” You asked, ignoring the hushed cheers of your siblings as you approached the boy. He nodded, smiling at you and letting you lead him to the back, where you kept all the extra supplies

Sitting on a stool, Percy looked up at you, just noticing your nervousness, “is everything okay?” He asked, concern laced in his voice

You nodded, taking a deep breath. You practically had this memorised. You just had to get the words out. You couldn’t get the words out

The vines grew from your head again and you wanted nothing more than to cocoon yourself in them. You’d faced terrifying monsters with a calm smile and eliminated them like you were pulling weeds out of your gardens, but you couldn’t tell a boy you liked him?

At this point, the vines were wrapping around the stool Percy was sat on, and he stood up, confused

Slowly, he made his way over to you and brushed the vines away from your face. As he looked into your wide eyes, he finally understood. Cupping your face with his hands, Percy placed a tender kiss on your lips

“I like you too, Y/N. Like, a lot”

Ok dating hcs 🥳

First of all I just wanna say PICNIC DATES!!! Sometimes you have them on the beach and it’s like you combined both your worlds <3

As a child of Demeter I can confidently say we know how to cook. Percy’s so in love with your cooking. He never thought any cooking could rival his mother’s until you came along

Somehow, you knew how to make meals that make him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. If you asked him to taste ambrosia and one of your meals blindfolded and then choose one, he’d choose yours in a heartbeat

He’s also so obsessed with the fresh produce you bring from Flowers and Vines. I said this in my Percy x Persephone!Reader headcanons but I don’t think Percy’s much of a fruits/vegetables guy so the fact that you have him hooked on them says a lot

Swears he’s addicted. You think he’s just saying that to flatter you but he means it. If someone asked him if he had an addiction he’d look them dead in the eye and go, “yes, my partner’s bell peppers.”

He’s actually right though! Demeter + Dionysus kid powers make the produce taste a little fresher and last for way longer

Percy also decides to learn the language of flowers. He borrows a book about it from the Athena cabin and makes little notes and everything

Once, you came to his cabin and found the book full of scrawled annotations and sticky notes in it and you had to fight the urge to bawl your eyes out because he’s just so adorable

Will literally buy you flowers from your own flower shop though LMAO he doesn’t even try to do the transaction with anyone else. He’ll buy them and you’ll give them to him and he’ll be like “oh thanks I’m gonna go give this to the light of my life now” and he just hands them back to you

Percy’s also def the type of guy to keep one with him so he can get you new ones as soon as they start to wilt. Except his timing is always off because flowers tend to last a little longer when they’re around you

Lowkey still works at Flowers and Vines except he just follows you around and has no salary (he says his salary are kisses from you but knows he’d get them regardless LOL)

Brings Sally and Paul to Flowers and Vines and they’re immediately hooked because flowers in the mortal world aren’t half as beautiful as these hello??

Also, as a child of Demeter, you are naturally very motherly and caring. He loves seeing you interact with Estelle so much!!!

His half-sister warmed up to you extremely quickly and now refuses to be babysat by anyone who isn’t you. Like it can’t even be Percy alone you have to be there!!

Percy ALSO loves it when you dote on him. This leads to him being a little dramatic at times

Looking up, you saw a pouty Percy make his way over to you, his brows furrowed as he looked down at his finger

“Y/N! You won’t believe what happened!” He said. The first couple times he pulled this stunt, he’d scared you shitless, but you now knew all about your boyfriend’s antics and simply gave him a knowing smile

Feigning worry, you asked, “oh no, what is it?” Percy revealed his finger to you, which had a barely noticeable cut at the tip of it

“I was talking to Clarisse when all of a sudden she swung at me!” He told you, looking over to the side. In reality, he’d asked Clarisse to cut him, knowing only a child of Ares could have such precision with a weapon

Sporting a pout of your own, you took Percy’s finger and peppered it with kisses, “I’ll speak to Clarisse, don’t worry.” You said

“Uhh.. Y/N.. she also punched me in the lips… My lips really hurt.”

Let’s just say you didn’t get much work done that day (SAFE FOR WORK!)

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson #percy jackson x gn reader #pjo #pjo x reader #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson headcanons #percy jackson x demeter reader #percy jackson x child of demeter #demeter pjo #children of demeter #cynwrites

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icallhimjoey · 3 days

Text

Reinvent Love

♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Joe are treading new waters. You’re no longer flatmates, but still close. More than friends, but nothing defined. Nothing labeled. Determined to not lose what you have, though. But, can you?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, jealousy, accusations, soft fluff, season 3 of my flatmate!joe

Author’s note: the first cracks; they're here - and, again, you don’t need to have read define close or explain us, but it’ll obviously give you backstory, which might help!

Wordcount: 3.6K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

It was silly. Joe was being silly.

He knew it, and felt so stupid for it. Like, in hindsight, the worrying felt so dumb. The constant milling shit over didn’t change anything, there was no real point to it. Although, maybe you being on his mind in this... new manner was what summoned you last night.

You just showed up, talking about a crazy day, no sad pouts, no needy touches. Just jittery movements and a lot to tell him.

Joe kind of sat back on his sofa, spread out and leaning into his left elbow and watched you pace around his lounge. Something about something a colleague had said that then turned out to be lies and you found out something by overhearing a phone call you weren’t meant to overhear – Joe was barely following along. Didn’t really try his best to, if he was honest.

He was moreso paying attention to what you were actually doing – were you even aware that you had started grabbing random things he had left lying around on his coffee table, on the kitchen island, on the counters, and one by one, put everything away where it was meant to go?

Joe pursed a smile as he realised you knew exactly where everything went. Why did that make his chest ache in the best of ways?

This new casual form of intimacy seemed so small, but Joe felt how it smothered that little grain of doubt that resided in his chest. That little grain that had convinced him that you were probably going to fall into a new routine with your new flatmate after he moved in and, then you would probably grow close to him and Joe knew how you... no.

No.

He couldn’t think that.

It wasn’t fair on you. He caught himself trying to finish the thought a lot, but he knew it wasn’t fair. Wasn’t true. He didn’t even fully believe it. It was this thing. Still, he also couldn’t help how it simultaneously made him grow a little more possessive and made him want to prepare for the worst.

But, she was here, he had to remind himself.

She’s here.

And she was wandering around his space, letting her train of thought flow freely from her brain into his living room and he used to witness this all the time when you lived together still. Joe realised he’d actually missed it a lot, and wasn’t that the whole point? That he got to miss you now?

God, Joe missed you a lot and you were right there and he could just burst at the seams at how fucking lucky he felt.

He was a just normal guy in a normal flat with a normal relationship– well, normalish relationship, anyway. Not that you had talked about anything yet. Of course you hadn’t. But it was pretty fucking obvious what this was. So he had started shrugging whenever someone would ask if you were actually together, which felt a lot better than the forever, “No, we’re flatmates, what are you talking about?” he used to throw at people, practically gaslighting them out of whatever they thought they’d witnessed between him and the girl that he used to live with.

It was working. The plan he had made, this vague idea of normalcy; it was working out the way he had wanted it to.

And yea, sure, you were getting a new flatmate and Joe had a difficult time not feeling some type of way about that, but, he had made the decision to move out and, look at you now.

“Do you think I can get a raise out of this? Or at least get a weird bonus, mid-term?”

Joe had a hard time not laughing at your question as he saw you had already mentally moved onto something else. You were stood in the middle of the room, both hands on your hips, eyes scanning the room. Everything tidy and organised.

“Joe, when did you last clean?”

Joe followed your gaze up into one of the corners of the ceiling.

“I cleaned today.” Joe said, knowing you’d likely not take it as an honest answer. You had lived together, remember? No fucking way was Joe ever going to feel the urge to maybe sometimes swipe a feather duster across the upper corners of his living room.

You shuddered at the thought of what resided behind his curtains there.

You sighed and tutted and turned back to Joe’s kitchen like you were going to start cleaning his fucking ceilings at half past ten at night.

“Hey, no. No, no. Stop. Will you come sit down a second? My god.” Joe huffed, feigning annoyance. When you turned on your heel and giggled as you scurried over, Joe let a laugh escape his throat just before you let yourself fall into the cushions next to him.

He hooked an arm around your neck to pull you in so he could press his nose into your cheek a second. You gladly let him, and when he held you close like that for longer than you initially thought he would, you suddenly realised you’d just been talking about yourself for twenty minutes straight.

Just barged in with unimportant thoughts on your mind that you just verbally vomited right into Joe’s space. You knew it was mostly nervous energy that was only there because your new flatmate picked up his keys earlier, which now meant there was every opportunity for someone to just... walk into your flat at any given time. That had unexpectedly brought on way more anxiety than you previously thought it would do.

Hence why you decided to just... escape it, and went over to Joe’s to spend the night there.

Joe was pressing his nose into your cheek and held you in place for a bit before he moved his head down, hiding into your neck a second.

“You okay?” you asked softly, head tilting down a bit.

“Mm, yea, fine.” Joe inhaled deeply, before pressing a few small kisses to the crook there and moving back to look at you the in eye. He unhooked his elbow from around your neck and placed two cupped hands on either side of your face, swiping bits of hair back in the process.

Joe was leant all the way back into the sofa, head squished in between two of the back cushions and you took a moment to look at each other. Joe studied your face and rubbed his thumbs across the apples of your cheeks until you grew shy.

“You look tired,” you softly said before Joe sat up a little and leant closer. It had you close your eyes just before scrunching up your nose as he kissed the very tip of it.

“I am tired.” He mused, copying your nose scrunch when you blinked your eyes open again, and Joe looked so soft. Sort of pleased with life, happy to be where he was and like he’d just had a really good productive day. He blinked slowly, eyes only half open, and looked sleepy enough to slip right into dreams the second his head would hit his pillow.

You loved him like this. His hands on you, all soft touches. Comfy and cosy and calm. Just you and him. No one else. No threat of someone randomly walking in.

This was perfect.

“Mmm, me too.” You smiled and let Joe grab one of your elbows to pull an arm across his stomach as he sat back again.

“I’m not surprised. You’ve just done a 5K as you tidied this room, I think.”

You huffed a laugh as you sank into Joe’s side, and then you sat like that in silence for a moment. No TV on. No phones in sight for some easy distraction. Just you and Joe and the view of his living room.

“Are you okay?” Joe suddenly asked, emphasis on the you, and you tried hiding the small, hitched intake of breath by quickly nodding and casually going, “Yea. Fine.”

You could feel how Joe tucked in his chin to look at you.

He waited. Wasn’t going to tell you, “No, be honest...”, but also wasn’t going to accept it and move on. It was still like that. He knew you were lying, and you knew he knew, no words shared at all.

So you sighed and took a second, and then said, “Josh picked up his key today.”

And you didn’t want to explain what that meant.

Didn’t want to tell Joe that, for a while, this existing-in-two-flats thing had just felt like a bit of a joke. Just the two of you playing and being silly about whatever you really were. You still sort of thought of him as a flatmate because he still came over all the time, and you went over to his all the time too. You existed in the same space almost just as much as before, sort of.

But now a new flatmate was actually moving in, and suddenly, it felt like reality had slapped you right across the cheek like it had done that day that Joe moved out.

You’d gotten to hide away for a lot of that.

And there was no real hiding this time around.

You couldn’t go home and pretend Joe was going to move back in eventually, because now Josh’s things were going to be all over the flat. Which was fine. Josh signed a lease. His things were allowed to be all over the place.

It was just... things were getting real now.

Shit was real.

“Which reminds me,” you suddenly piped up, pushing uncomfortable thoughts down, tucking those away for another time and place. “This is going to save you some money!”

You saw how Joe’s mouth slowly stretched into a smile as he watched how his own feet rubbed against yours. Then he caught himself and quickly furrowed his brow, saying, “No, I don’t think it works like that.”

You copied his expression, but were more confused than anything else.

“Of course it does. Josh signed the papers, he’s going to start paying rent now, you–”

“I said that I had taken care of things, didn’t I?” Joe interrupted you, fingers playing with the folds in your sleeve of the arm that rested over his stomach. “Can’t just not keep a promise like that.”

You blinked at him a second, then moved to sit up to stare at him harder. If both Joe and Josh paid rent, that basically meant that you... got to live for free for a while? That math wasn’t mathing. One plus one wasn’t equalling two here. You looked around Joe’s flat and tried to think of his own expenses, and... what the fuck was he doing?!

“Joe,”

“You’re not going to be able to talk me out of this.”

“Joe.”

Joe ignored you and faked a yawn, sped it up along with stretched out arms above his head and quickly said, “So tired. Bed?” before getting up and leaving you on his sofa as he left the room.

“You’re insane if you think I’m just going to accept that!” you called after him and heard him laugh from down the hall.

“Did you not just say you were after a weird mid-term bonus?”

And you hated how that made you smile. Made you punch one of the cushions and sink your teeth into your bottom lip begrudgingly as you forgot to breathe a second.

Joe smiled to himself too as he turned on the lights in his bathroom. It felt like he was winning a contest - there was no contest, no one to fight, not really, but, he was definitely winning.

“You coming?”

Breathe.

Calm down.

You could pretend to fight him on this once more in the morning.

Crawling into bed with Joe had its own little routine which was different from the one at yours. Different order of things, because the lay out of the flat was different.

Bathroom first. You brushed teeth together, always had to stop Joe when he washed his face too aggressively and then used your own moisturiser on him. “Just for your dry patches,” you’d always say, but would end up swiping delicate fingertips all over anyway. There’d be a snarky comment, of you using too much, of him feeling too greasy, of how he was going to stick to his pillow all night now, and then you’d always kiss him to shut him up before moving on to do your own skincare routine.

When you’d get into bed, Joe would already be in there, giving his phone a last once-over before he’d scoot down and get comfortable.

This time, however, when you walked into his bedroom, the lights were already off, and it looked like Joe was already falling asleep.

This soft man.

So sleepy.

He was all messy curls and bare arms, duvet tucked under them, curled up right in the middle of his bed. You slid in and cuddled up right behind him, hips against his bum, chest to his back.

You were right.

Joe was already falling asleep.

You pushed a leg in between his for warmth and snuck an arm around his front.

“You’re crazy,” you whispered into the skin of his shoulder which prompted Joe to grab hold of your hand and pull it into his chest so you were hugging him properly. The big spoon to his small one. Then he just hummed as you pressed a small kiss to his warm skin there.

“So crazy.” you nuzzled into his pillow, your nose rubbing his back as you did, and you felt how he ducked his head down to press a small kiss to your fingers.

You fell asleep warm, comfortable, and smiling.

You woke up in the same way.

Just on your stomach now, and with Joe’s heavy limbs slung over your body. When you turned over, it woke Joe up, and for five blissful early morning minutes, you tried crawling into each other’s skin as best you could. Breathed each other’s breath and tasted each other’s skin. Stroked hands underneath clothes and had fingers crawling into underwear, just to touch and to hold.

When you quietly asked if Joe wanted coffee, he groaned and told you to shut up. He was able to feel you giggle to that, and he could cry with how happy he felt in that moment. Why would you have to go and ruin it by getting up to go and make coffee?

“Five more minutes.”

“Mmm... it’s never just five.”

Joe sighed, “Just five.” speech slurring with early morning drowsiness and then burrowed himself into you even more.

And fine.

Joe could have five more minutes.

But then they easily turned into twenty, because they always did, and you had to eventually bribe Joe with breakfast for him to let you go so you could sit up.

“If you take a slow shower, I’ll have it ready when you finish.” You looked over your shoulder where Joe, still with his eyes closed, smiled widely. His nose was slightly red from pressing it into your skin, and his bedhead made you have to suppress a giggle that you hid by leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead before you got out.

Joe barely even felt that little grain of bad in his chest when he thought of how much he loved you.

Because he did.

Joe fucking loved you.

There was going to be a moment soon where he was just going to have to say it. It was going to spill out of him in some other way if he wouldn’t simply use the words, he just knew it.

Joe loved you as he watched through squinty eyes how you reached for a pair of white socks of his to borrow.

Loved you as he watched you pull one of his old sweaters over your head before you walked out, bare legs still on show.

Loved you when he stepped into his living room after his shower to the smell of burnt toast and scrambled eggs and coffee.

Loved you as he watched you step onto a chair in the corner of his room, wet dishcloth in hand to remove the strings of dust you had scolded him over the night before.

Loved you as he felt what the sight of your stretched body, your bare tighs, and the little peep of your bum did to him inside of his boxers.

Loved you as he groaned and let his head fall onto the counter, having to breathe through it, because you were just cleaning his living room, and not giving him a sensual striptease act or whatever.

Loved you as you looked back over your shoulder, raising your eyebrows in surprised confusion before accusingly asking, “Really, Joe? Cleaning?”

Loved you as he stutteringly defended the blood rush down south by saying, “You have no idea what you look like right now.” into his elbow where he had to hide his face for a second.

Loved you, loved you.

He was hardly able to deny any of it.

And he didn’t feel that he had to, either.

Because, you were there. In his flat. In his clothes. Cleaning his dusty ceiling corners. And wasn’t that just something he wanted to tell the whole fucking world about?

That small little green grain of doubt and worry and negativity dried out and got no sunshine to really grow into anything. Thank fuck.

He got to ignore it for a while.

Forgot about it entirely, and pretended it wasn’t even there for a bit.

It was easy.

Joe loved you.

He knew he did.

Would tell you soon.

Didn’t know how.

Or where.

But he was going to say it.

He was going to use his words because he was just a normal guy who loved a normal girl and you weren’t being weirdly secretive about what you got up to in private. At least, not how you used to be, anyway.

Joe loved you.

You brought Joe flowers and cleaned his ceiling and wore his clothes and cooked his breakfast.

Joe loved you, even though your new flatmate Josh turned out to be impossibly good-looking in addition to being incredibly kind as well, so Joe didn’t even get to have a real reason to dislike him at all, which seemed unfair, but, all right.

Joe loved you, even when suddenly two shiny black acoustic guitars appeared on your living room wall, because Josh worked in music, and wasn’t that just so cool?

Joe loved you, even though his very first thought after that was, well I know how to play guitar too, don’t I?! which you had never even mentioned before.

Joe loved you, even when he walked into your flat one evening and interrupted a dinner you were having with Josh and one of your friends and, look, Josh cooked for us, and for the first time ever, he felt uninvited and intruding.

Joe loved you, even when your friend jokingly said, “You’re over here at lot for someone that moved out.” right to his face, to which you then heartily laughed, because she was only joking, Joe, and then you didn’t say anything about how you were together, but, you were together... weren’t you?

Joe loved you, even when he stuck to the bit and handed you his flat key like he always did, expecting to find it in his coat pocket later, but then ended up finding both his pockets empty when he went home the next morning, which, yea actually, that made sense, because Josh lived there now, and it was a little weird to have a key still, wasn’t it?

Joe loved you, even when you had told him to come over on Friday evening because you’d had a shit day at work, and for the first time ever, he had to ring the doorbell to get inside.

Joe loved you, even when Josh was the one that answered the door, and Josh almost didn’t let him in, telling him, “Oh, she’s fallen asleep on the sofa, mate.” to which Joe just smiled as he stepped around him, because what the fuck did Josh even know about falling asleep on the sofa in this flat?

Joe loved you, even when he found you asleep on the sofa, curled up under a blanket he’d never seen before, with an empty pizza box bar some crusts still on the coffee table, and you never ate a whole pizza yourself, so that was obviously shared with someone else.

Joe loved you.

He knew he did.

But there was a playstation besides the TV now, and a cool record player on the side, pile of vinyl next to it, and, God.

Joe fucking hated this.

Whatever was inside of Joe’s chest, that thing he didn’t even want in there, was growing.

Was getting fed without Joe even fully realising he was feeding it.

He hated those guitars. He hated that he no longer had a key. He hated that stupid blanket. And he hated that empty pizza box.

Still, he sat down beside you and placed your socked feet onto his lap. Watched the last scenes of whatever film you’d put on as he slowly kneaded a foot and let you sleep, and he tried his best to not get bitten. To not let it sink its teeth in. To not let it hurt.

It was silly.

Joe was being silly.

Rational thought saved him.

Rational thought told him he still loved you.

And he hoped rational thought was going to be enough.

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson,

@choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn,

@dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee,

@figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4,

@hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke,

@lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr,

@munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories,

@phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420,

@songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73,

@werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

#Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #icallhimjoey #define close #explain us #reinvent love

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thegoldencontracts · 2 days

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Imagine Azul falling in love with you.

He doesn't understand it. It's so stupid to him. Him, Azul Ashengrotto, in love with someone. We all know what he thinks of love from his Platinum vignette, he's always ready to exploit it, to cash in.

But now, he's the exploitable one. And that's something he can't handle.

He does everything in his power to push you away, to deal with what he calls a weakness. He's not in love - no matter how many times the Leech twins tease him about it they're wrong.

You might catch on. Notice the weird way he acts around you. Is there something more to him than it seems?

Because, truth be told, for all of Azul's feigned smugness, deep down, he's expecting rejection. He's afraid. Azul was nothing more than the octopus in the octopus pot, and before Jade and Floyd, everyone thought he was the most boring thing ever. The lame kid who was just there for some occasional entertainment. Ugly. A loser.

As prideful as Azul is, he's still insecure deep down inside - so go easy on him, okay? He's not used to love. He's beating himself up enough already.

If you have feelings for him too, I'd advise confessing first. Azul's gonna take a while to come to terms with his feelings without outside interference.

After a while, though, he might just accept it and decide to try his hand at confessing.

If you reject him politely, he'll be a bit sad, but he'll likely accept it and be pleasantly surprised by the fact that you actually considered his feelings - if he's being honest, he's not really used to that. If you accept his confession, he's going to be quite shocked. Azul can handle the worst of insults, but in all honesty, he's never really had someone outside of his family tell him they genuinely care - even the Leech twins claim they're just there for the fun of it - so he can't really handle it. Throw in a genuine compliment and you've rendered him a blushing mess.

All in all, Azul's emotional waterlogging can be frustrating. But it's so adorable that you can't help but be enchanted.

#azul ashengrotto #twisted wonderland #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader #twst #twst azul #twst x reader #azul ashengrotto x you #azul x you

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midnightarcheress · 1 day

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it wasn't my initial plan but let's go stalker!gaz again <3

cw: nsfw. stalking. obsessive gaz. perv gaz in denial lol. f!reader. part one | part two

Kyle sees you again. it's totally coincidental, of course.

the first time was in the market. he had postponed a grocery run for far too long, and a man can’t live solely on takeout, so he headed to the nearest store. walking down the pavement, he sees the familiar blue logo across the street, the same one from your hoodie, and the image of your pearly smile comes fully into his mind for the first time after the encounter.

he had been too obsessive that day, and a part of him felt disgusted by his behaviour. he’s a good man, a good soldier, not one of the creeps in white vans studying women like a hunter waiting to attack their prey. so he shoved the temptation to search for you in the back of his brain, tucked away in a corner with the rest of his dysfunctional urges.

but the other side, the one he maintains caged when he’s home, kept calling for him, itching for the surface, almost slipping his fingers to his cell phone so he could engage in the pursuit of the sweet little thing that invaded his lustful dreams. a side that he managed to hide until his gaze laid on your form on the frozen food aisle.

you looked just as stunning as he remembered. glossy lips, pretty plush thighs, delicate fingers pushing the shopping cart around. your hair was in a ponytail, easy grab, sports bra neatly holding your soft tits, could be my hands, a small drop of sweat sneaking down your exposed lower back, the mere sight making his cock twitch in his trousers. of course you go to the gym. i can train with you. how about some hip thrusts with you on– no. he can’t be thinking like that again.

he bites back the urge to follow you. or even spark a conversation, to test if you’re good with faces. it would be weird. but then he gets lost in the movements of your hips, in how gorgeous you look slightly bent down at the waist, reaching for a lower shelf and prancing your ass up, in how easy it would be to cause you any harm in that position. wouldn’t even hear me sneaking up with those headphones on.

the second time was outside of a cafe. he had just ordered a coffee and was waiting by the counter, aimlessly looking out the front window when he saw you, walking out of a bookstore with a big bag. hi, sweetheart. he promptly steps out the door, the barista calling his name fading in the background as he rushes to you. or at least, rushes to a safe distance from you.

he wishes nothing more than to take the heavy bag from you, interlock his fingers with yours and stroll back to his flat like a perfectly happy couple. he’d even build bookshelves for you. buy you an entire library, if you wanted. make you tea while you read, caress your hair, lazily eat you out for hours, hearing your muffled moans as you try to remain focused– fuck, quit it, Garrick.

but he doesn’t quit. he can’t. not when you’re so beautiful, so easy, so soft. such a good girl. not when he notices some guys eyeing you up on the street and he silently curses the lack of a weapon on his hand. not when you look over your shoulder and don't see him as a threat. do you recognize me, love? not when he finally looks at his surroundings and realises that he’s in his street and that you’re entering the building across from his.

he takes that discovery as a sign from the universe. it must be fate that you’re so close to me, right? it’s a blessing, a sign from god that his thoughts are justified. the green light he was waiting to reveal the worst part of him, to unleash the demon gnawing at his self-control.

with a few clicks, he finds all of your socials. too easy. some were restricted, some were open, and some barely had content, but he doesn’t mind, the few pictures on your instagram are enough. at another time, he’d teach you about online safety – how there are bad people out in the world who yearn for an easy catch, and how a smart girl like you shouldn’t allow it.

his dick aches in his boxers as he studies every pixel of your photos. he feels it throbbing, leaking, painfully craving for any kind of friction, but he refuses to provide. he knows that once he starts, he would never stop, and the idea of spending his cum on anywhere that isn’t you – your cute little mouth, displayed on your tummy, your warm cunt – is not worthy.

the third time was in a pub. he had finally caught you on your kitchen window, looking a little too dressed up to be staying at home and downing what seemed like a shot of vodka. so, when you stepped on the sidewalk, he knew he had to follow you. pretty girl going out at night? alone? not on my watch.

the bar is a couple blocks from where you live, known for being filled with college students. very different from his crowd, but he doesn’t care, watching you from afar acts like a remedy for the headache caused by the loud noise of the place. just a peek at your sheer blouse, exposing the lacy bra underneath was sufficient to clear his heart of any cracks.

but, not everything is perfect, and he immediately tags the face making its way to you. Marcus. just as ugly as in the tiny contact picture he saw. fuck, is she back with him?

he gets his answer quickly – you push him aside and go back to your friends, chugging the rest of your pint like a lifeline. good girl. the man's left with an open mouth and shocked expression, and Kyle doesn't miss the flash of anger in his eyes.

the next few minutes are a blur. Marcus stepped out in the back for some fresh air after nearly throwing up due too many drinks, and he didn't notice the guy following him. stupid prick, should've used your brain.

Kyle re-enters the bar in no time, thumb brushing the edge of the switchblade in his pocket. he admires you in your booth – lips parted in a laugh, locks of hair cascading on your face, and a hazy aura pairing over you. well, aren't we tipsy, sweetheart? good thing i'm here to look over you.

he heads to the counter to get a drink, and he almost jumps when you appear by his side, finishing your tab for the night. your eyes shine when they land on his, brightness shared by your wide grin, “hey, i know you! you're the plane guy!”

you do recognize me. fate. he gives you a once over, feigning that he doesn't instantly recall your face to hide the excitement bubbling in his chest. like he hasn’t been dreaming about stuffing your pussy with his thick cock and hearing your mewls every night. “yup, that's me.”

“nice seeing you again– oh, are you alright? you got some,” you motion to his forearm, “blood on you.”

shit. he forgot he needed to clean up after his last activity. his mind scrambles to find an excuse, but a thought pops in his brain and he can't contain the growing bulge in his pants. look at you worried about me, love. such a sweet girl. “it's nothing, i was just a little clumsy,” he brushes off, watching the concern on your face evolve into a timid smile, “you leaving already?”

“yeah, got an early day tomorrow. shouldn't drink too much,” you answer, putting your jacket back on. he stays glaring at you, mind too blank to form a coherent sentence. alone? this late? drunk? do you even know how many men are lurking outside, waiting for a minor slip-up to rip you open? “so... goodnight, then.” you say, giving the counter one last tap and heading to the door. think fast.

“wait!” he calls out, “you shouldn't go alone, it isn't safe.” your head tilts to the side, and his eyes trail down your pretty neck, just begging to be bitten. focus, Garrick.

“it's just a couple blocks from here, it's alright.” no. no it isn't. don't be stubborn, sweetheart. do you want me to throw you over my shoulder for being a brat? give your pretty ass a slap?

his eyes narrow, but the soft smile on his lips does a damn good job of luring you in – a trick he learned over the years. “may i walk you home then? i'd hate to see something bad happen to a sweet girl like you.”

you ponder for a moment. you shouldn’t accept, he’s still a stranger, and if the alcohol wasn’t fuzzing your brain, you would say no. but his smile is so convincing, the dog tags around his neck are so reassuring of his good intentions that you don’t even notice when you nod.

he smirks, and the tent between his legs gets even bigger. he’s such a good man. won’t let anything stain your soft, pure flesh. i’ll protect you, sweet girl.

#kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #gaz garrick #gaz cod #gaz x reader #gaz x you #stalker!gaz #gaz smut #kyle garrick smut #cod mw #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #cod x reader #nyx writes ☾#midnightarcheress

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