#instead he says ''no but that was a good way of thinking.'' or ''not really but that was a good question still!''
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coworker!james is fueling me rn thank u miss jade!! can i pretty please request a coworker!james drabble in which someone at work, a higher-up of some kind or someone visiting from another company being kind of cruel to reader, and jamie discovers that maybe there are several people who have just not been very kind to her, and she doesn’t really understand why he’s upset for her? please and thank u
—Why is James so upset? And how do you calm him down so quickly? fem, 1.2k
The horrible heat of the first week of British summer time finally breaks. It was an eventuality. Nothing good ever lasts for James —he must’ve been enjoying it too much. The sun is gone, the clouds are grey, and the office radiators pump a meek heat into the room.
The dreary skies outside depress him. “I miss the sun,” he sighs, putting the tips of his fingers together and bringing down his hands, base of his palms apart to stretch the sore inside of his wrists. They pang.
“Sunny again next week,” Remus says reassuringly. “Just in time for your review!”
“Please don’t remind me.”
“I must remind you, Jamie.” Remus stands up, and he gives James a loving squeeze on the shoulder, voice close to his ear, “Because you need to pretend you like your job, at least for the next few days. Come and get some coffee with me.”
James waves his hand. “In a second.”
When James met Remus, Remus couldn’t take touch. Didn’t like it or want it, couldn’t accept so much as a compliment, but things change, and years of knowing one another makes squeezing and pinching easy work. Remus flicks him without cruelty and exits the nook, leaving James on his own.
He glares at your empty seat, confused. When did you leave?
Doesn’t matter. Coffee. James is in desperate need of coffee as Remus recommended to warm up. He exits out of his desktop and shucks his suit jacket back on, taking a hand to run through his knotted hair as he walks. Past the desk banks of the account managers and the reception bank to the hallway that runs into the break room and adjourning kitchen. The office is a weird maze but the worst part is having the big ‘conference’ room right next to the break room, so the people inside working can judge you for eating, and vice versa.
The conference room door is propped open.
James recognises you from behind, your hair and tight shoulders. He should recognise the stress, having caused so much of it.
“It’s just not good enough.”
“I know.”
“You coast by, doing half the work of your fellow accountants.”
“I… I was sick for a week, I know it affected my turnover. But nothing went unfinished, sir.”
“No, because your colleagues picked up your slack.”
“Sir, I– I promise I work hard.”
Your voice is so oddly unlike yourself, a tone James is unfamiliar with. He’s arrogant and agitating and has no business interrupting, but he knocks the conference door anyways.
“Hi, Mr. Vida. How’s it going?” James asks.
“James, it’s fine. We’re just going through L/N’s review.”
James pulls one of those boyish smirks that men often share when they should be grimacing instead. “I’m sorry to interrupt.” He hangs on like he has something else to say.
“I think we’re about finished.”
Mr. Vida is a predictable man. He ushers the woman away to make room for the man. His misogyny is unsubtle and unfortunate, your expression laced with hurt as you gather yourself and stand to leave.
“Not looking forward to mine,” James says easily. You round the door, and he sends Mr. Vida a suck-up smile before he goes. He should stand up for you in a way that matters, but he’d felt it imperative to remove you from the situation, rather than escalate.
He’s on your tail, coffee forgotten as you scurry back to the desks. “Hey,” he says, finding himself in a half-jog to keep up, “wait, wait, are you okay?”
You slow. “I’m fine,” you say, so mildly perplexed that he doesn’t think for a moment you’re playing it cool.
“He was getting a little heavy with you.”
You frown in agreement, but otherwise move on, rolling your chair back with your foot to open your desk drawer. “I guess so. He’s like that.”
“Is he? I’ve never had him that mad at me.”
“He’s not that bad.” You pull a blister pack of painkillers from your drawer and pop three out in a row. “Have you met his boss? Oh, have you ever spoken to the manager of the account managers from the Brussels office? She sucks.”
James doesn’t have the wherewithal to pretend he wasn’t following you. He stands with his hands vice-like on the back of his chair. “What did they say to you?”
“Who, Mr. Vida’s boss? Or the Brussels manager?”
“Both.”
You sit and fish a bottle of water from your bag. “I actually filed a successful grievance again Mr. Vida’s boss, he kept calling me sweetheart. I know,” —you wince— “that’s a bit much, but it was really obvious he was looking down at me, so.”
“And the Brussels manager?”
“She emailed me thinking I was much more involved with the lab than I actually am. She kept calling me stupid.” You take one of your tablets and wash it down with a swig of water. “But,” you add, smiling at him, “I did manage to solve her problem.”
“What do you mean, she called you stupid?”
Your smile slips. “She called me a bunch of stuff. Professionally, you know, but she kept asking why my foresight was so sorely lacking. You know what they’re like.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t, no. Nobody’s ever called me stupid. Or sweetheart.”
You smile genially. “Perks of being a girl. Or stupid.” You laugh at yourself softly.
“You’re not stupid.”
You sober at his solemn tone. “I know,” you say. “I’m just joking.”
“Nobody should be talking to you like that.”
“I know, James, but what am I supposed to do?”
He doesn’t know. What can you do? Nothing. What can James do? What should he do?
“I’m sorry,” he says softly.
Your frown deepens. “It’s not your fault. It’s really fine.”
“It’s not fine. It’s not, though, it’s–”
“James?” you say.
“What?”
You stand up. You stand close to him, looking into his face. “Don’t be upset,” you say, mirroring his softer tone, “it’s okay. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“You shouldn’t have to deal with it at all.”
“Well, luckily this time I had you to come and rescue me,” you say. “But it really is fine. I can look after myself, even if I shouldn’t have to. Okay?”
Your hand finds his arm. You squeeze his wrist and his entire torso lights up, everything, his chest, the backs of his shoulders, like goosebumps but warmer and with a softer fuzz to it. Your eyes meet his, an encouraging smile playing on a pretty mouth. For the first time that day, he feels pleasantly warm, like he’s had that first hot sip of coffee.
The pads of your fingers are so, so soft where you catch his bare skin.
“Okay,” he says instinctively. He’d say the sky was red if you asked him to, in that moment.
You rub the back of his thumb with yours before letting him go. You sit down and finish your drink, and it takes James a good two minutes at his own desk to remember he’s not the one who needed comforting.
He opens his emails to write a formal complaint against Mr. Vida for poor work conduct. He doesn’t think twice about hitting send.
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter fic#james potter fluff#james potter blurb#james potter drabble#james potter imagine#james potter fanfic#james potter fanfiction#james potter scenario#james potter oneshot#the marauders#marauders era#marauders
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Ex bf art donaldson seeing reader for the first time in a decade and forgetting the meaning of personal space. That man would not take his baby dear eyes and manly hands of you until you fall for his submissive aura.
I'm actually going crazy wtff I'm obsessed!!!
He's the last person you had expected to see in a place like this, but you'd suppose you would've never imagined yourself in a place like this either. Loneliness drove people to strange places, it seemed.
He looked good. He still looked good. He's visually grown and matured, no longer the coy college boy but a refined man, yet he still looked boyish when he smiled or laughed. It warmed you to see he hadn't lost that light behind his eyes after all these years – life could be cruel, after all. You had half a mind to ask him how Tashi was doing, but the slight tan line on his finger being the only indicator of said marriage told you to leave the subject unscathed for now.
You didn't say anything when he chose to move in next to you in the booth instead of across, or when he insisted on buying you a drink, or when he looked at you as if you had been the answer to an unheard prayer. You didn't say anything because you, in return, had relished in the feeling of being seen, desired after so long.
He talked about how he's retired now, about how much happier he's been since he put the racket down and about his daughter, and you listened dutifully, watching his eyes lit up in that same boyish way when he talked about about Lily.
In return, he asked you about your life and what you've doing, all while his thumb rubbed over the top of the hand grasped in his. "We probably look like some happy couple to other people right now," you had commented, looking down at your hand clasped in his but making no move to pull it away. He had laughed, thumb still across your skin, and replied with a huffed, "yeah, we probably do." Not pulling his hand away either.
It was so strange to you; after all these years things still felt so natural with him. A part of you still wanted to be bitter about the way things had ended back then, but you couldn't find it in you to be. Not when it still felt so right.
"What?" you asked after a silence a little too long. He just smiled, and your chest clenched at the sight. "I'm really glad we found each other again," he replied softly, almost too soft for the noisy atmosphere of the bar. You wouldn't be able to hear anything anyway with the way your heart was beating in your ear at his words.
The two of you sat like this for hours, catching up and laughing at each other's awful jokes until you realized how late it had gotten. He offered you a ride home which you had accepted gratefully, and now as tge both of you stood infront of your door, you wished the night didn't have to end. You weren't even sure of you would see him again.
It was great seeing you again, Art. Thank you," you spoke as you opened your arms in an offered hug which he accepted gladly. Your arms wrapped around each other, your hands rubbing against his back and taking the moment to savour his cologne. He still managed to smell the same, and you nearly sobbed at the thought.
You pulled away from him with a sigh, finding a pensive expression on his face. "You okay?" you asked. The furrow in his brows relaxed slightly before he answered. "Yeah, it's just," he breathed before continuing, "I think that's the most intimate thing I've experienced in a while."
His confession hit you like a ton of bricks, and you hadn't realized you hadn't said anything until he spoke up again. "That makes me sound a loser."
You laughed at that, not because you agreed but because there wasn't a world where you could think Art was a loser. He could be a total washout, the worst tennis player on the ranking, and you'd still think highly of him.
"I don't think you're a loser, Art," you told him as your hands rested on the sides of his face, taking a moment to appreciate his pretty face. Still as pretty and sweet and funny as all those years ago.
The kiss felt like a reunion between two hearts. Like this very moment had been exactly what you had been looking for for the last ten plus years. It felt like home, and when you pulled away, you felt homesick.
He rested his forehead against yours, breathing in the moment before his head lifted to kiss your forehead. You couldn't help but smile. You were finally home.
#challengers#challengers x reader#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson x you#art donaldson#likedovesinthewindd
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i feel the weight [7x09 coda, bucktommy]
Buck hadn't actually been planning on seeing Tommy tonight but the late night pit-stop at Eddie’s has him freaking out, so he shoots Tommy a text from the dark driver's seat of his jeep: kinda need to get out of my head. Could you come over?
The response is almost immediate: already in bed. If you’re safe to drive there’s a spot next to me waiting, followed by a selfie, Tommy shirtless sitting up in bed with his readers on.
Buck’s keys are turning in the ignition before his phone screen goes dark, and he’s pulling out of Eddie’s driveway to hurry over. Tommy gave him a key last week, and despite an odd track record staying over at exes’ places instead of them at his, he’s excited he finally gets to use it.
He lets himself in, kicking his shoes off and is still half tangled in his jacket when he nudges Tommy’s bedroom door open. The overhead light is still on and Tommy’s got what is clearly a World War Two biography thicker than a Tolstoy novel in his lap, fingers keeping his spot in place. He puts it on the nightstand and smiles so softly for a big guy, gives a little chin tilt greeting.
“Hey you,” he says. “Everything okay?”
“I don’t know,” Buck replies, taking broad strides over to his bedside and then climbing in Tommy's lap, straddling Tommy's hips, getting hands on his face to trace the rim of Tommy’s glasses with his thumb. “These are staying on, by the way.”
“Fine by me,” Tommy says and sighs, searching Buck’s face for a second. “Okay, sweetheart, let me take care of you.”
And then Buck loses himself for a little bit.
He comes back to himself sweaty, minus his pants, and come drunk, panting at Tommy’s side some time later. Tommy’s leaning on an elbow, looking at him. His glasses are crooked, and Buck reaches out to straighten them.
“Thanks.” Tommy snorts. “So, you wanna talk about it? Something happen during your shift today?”
“Not really. Sort of.” Evan sighs, and Tommy pets his hair, pushing the curls stuck to his forehead up. “Something going on with Eddie, and I feel like I shouldn’t even be talking about it, but I’m scared he’s going to hurt himself. I’m scared he’s going to do something that’ll hurt Chris in the long run too.”
“Sounds difficult.”
“Yeah, I mean, you guys are close too, so if you see him this week or sometime soon, just— could you check in with him? I don’t think I’m overreacting, but the situation seems crazy, and it just makes my head hurt." He sighs. "I'd honestly rather talk about anything else.”
“Okay, I can do that.” Tommy doesn’t sound placating. He never does when Buck talks about Eddie, which is a novel experience compared to Buck’s other relationships. And maybe that’s because Tommy is friends with Eddie, but also maybe it’s because Tommy’s just different like that.
Good for you, Bobby had said.
Buck smiles. “There is something good that happened earlier today, actually. I can tell you about that. Bobby told me he uh, approves. Of us.”
“Oh? Do all your relationships need Bobby’s stamp of approval?” Tommy asks wryly.
“No, no, it’s not like that. It’s just. Bobby’s seen me go through a lot of relationships, and I think he worries, you know? I have a tendency to not do the right thing sometimes, compromise too much, maybe, try too hard. And I think he’s seen how settled I’ve felt. At ease, you know?” Buck sighs. “It felt really good to hear.”
“That is good to hear.” Tommy’s hand combs through Buck’s hair down to cradle the back of his head, and he pulls them together for a soft kiss, just one. “I’m glad your dad approves of us, Evan.”
“Stop,” Buck says, but he’s smiling.
“Not in a million years,” Tommy replies, and he’s smiling too
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Exchanged Glances
Charles Leclerc x hairdresser!reader ｡･:*˚:✧｡
Masterlist can be found in navigation!
Read pt. 2 here
A/N: Not super edited, I wanted to get it posted before the Grand Prix!
Word count: 1,581
Normally when Charles goes back home to Monaco he has his mom cut his hair. Like clockwork he will arrive at his moms salon, say hello to the various hairdressers and then go to his moms station to get a fresh cut. Only, this time things were different.
A couple days before he was to arrive home Charles called his mom and asked what day she was free to cut his hair, with the upcoming Monaco Grand Prix it, and with it being his home race he was more available for a haircut than ever.
After their brief greetings to one another Charles’ mom told him that she would be out of town up until the day of the race. For the first time since joining formula one his mom wouldn't be able to cut his hair for him before the Monaco Grand prix.
“Don't worry Cha, I can refer you to another hairdresser at the salon.” She offered, trying to give him another solution.
“I don't know, you've always cut my hair, no one else.”
“Then this will be a perfect time for you to step out of your comfort zone. Don't worry I know the perfect person, she’s new, around your age and she's magic in the salon.” Trusting his mom this easies Charles' nerves slightly.
“Ok maman.” The driver sighs in defeat.
“Wonderful! When you go to the salon ask for Y/N.'' With that his mom bid him farewell, telling him when to be at the salon, not going into any more detail about this mysterious hairdresser.
Before he knew it the day had come, he was going to step out of his comfort zone and have a complete stranger touch his hair. He hoped his mom wasn't lying when she was hyping up Y/N and her skills, he didn't want to go to the paddock looking a mess.
Charles enters the salon, all the employees giving him waves and greeting him. He's known some of these people his whole life, whenever he stepped foot in the salon it was like he was being greeted by family.
“Hello Charles, what can I help you with today?” The lady at the front desk asked.
"Hello, yes, my mom told me to ask for Y/N?” The boy shrugged in confusion.
“Oh of course! I'll go get her.” The lady that once sat in front of him was now off searching for the mysterious magic woman that was going to cut his hair.
Charles felt like he was waiting for hours, the salon wasn't that big was it? Maybe it was all in his head. He stood to the side of the waiting area, too consumed with stress to sit down and relax. Before he knew it the front desk lady came back, the woman he assumed to be Y/N trailing behind her.
This is when he finally got to have a good look at her. She was beautiful, why didn't his mom tell him that they started hiring part time models at the salon. The two stood awkwardly, both taking in one another, waiting for someone to make the first move.
Y/N cleared her throat. “Hello Charles, I’m Y/N. just follow me back to my station and we’ll get started”
Charles was too dumbfounded to respond, instead the man stuttered silently before nodding and following Y/N to the back of her salon. During the short walk to her station, Charles thought of questions to ask the beautiful girl, desperately wanting to hear the sound of her voice again.
“Thanks for trusting me with your hair today, your mom told me that you don't really let anyone else cut your hair.” She giggled.
“Oh! Yeah, she's been cutting mine and my brothers hair since we were kids.”
“That's so sweet. I understand where you're coming from I don't let anyone cut my hair, only myself.'' This put Charles at ease. Knowing that she thinks the same way he does, even about something so simple as hair.
After some comfortable small talk Y/N led Charles further back into the salon, sitting the boy down in a chair before leaning him back and washing his hair. The driver seemed to melt in her touch as she ran her fingers through his hair.
When Y/N pulled her hands away to apply more product Charles felt incomplete, like he was missing a sense of stability and peace within himself. Just as soon as she removed her hands she placed them back, continuing to massage his scalp with the shampoo.
Y/N pats Charles’ shoulders signaling to him that the wash was done and that they had to make their way back to her station. Y/N led the way, Charles trailing behind the girl before taking his spot in front of her in the salon chair.
“Are you excited for the grand prix?” Y/N questions taking some of his hair between her fingers, beginning the cut
“Very. I have a good feeling and my son will be there, hopefully we secure P1 and P2.”
“You have a son? What's his name?” Y/N questions, his mom not mentioning anything about a grandson.
“Oh! My apologies he's not really my son. He's a driver on the grid that I've somewhat adopted for the race weekend so that he can claim the Monaco grand prix as his home race.” Charles looks at Y/N hoping she doesn't find what he said both weird and confusing.
“HA!” The hairdresser laughed out loud. “Well congrats to him, I hope he has a fun and successful home race as well. I'll be sure to congratulate your maman about her newly found grandson.”
Charles sat up a little higher in the chair, “Are you coming to the race?”
“I wish I could but I have to work, don't worry though, the salon will be playing the race so everyone can watch.” Y/N stopped cutting for a moment, looking at Charles through the mirror placed in front of them before giving him a warm smile.
Y/N picked up another section of his hair, continuing to snip away leaving Charles to examine the girl through the mirror. Y/N looked up from behind him, making a quick glance at him before the pair broke eye contact, looking separate ways.
Slowly their eyes started moving back to the mirror. The scissors snapping shut as the pair hold eye contact. Charles felt the tip of his ears getting hotter, the pair both noticing one another's subtle hints of red creeping onto their faces.
“Notice anything Mr. Leclerc?” Y/N questions, the corners of her mouth turning upward.
Charles opens his mouth to speak but words don't come out.
“Don't think I haven't noticed the subtle glances, there is either something on my face and you're trying to figure out how to tell me, or something going on in this head of yours.” She turns her attention back to his hair, the haircut almost over.
“I-” he clears his throat, “I was admiring you. You're very good at what you do.”
“I deeply appreciate Charles, truly.” Y/N made her final touches to the haircut. Unbuttoning the cloth that was draped over Charles, before dusting off his shoulders of any hair. “You're all finished, let me find a mirror so you can see the back.”
Y/N walked toward an unknown part of the salon, Charles' eyes following the girl through the mirror until she came back. This is it, if he doesn't say anything now he might never see her again.
The hairdresser came back, handing Charles a small hand held mirror for him to examine the back of his head. He admired her work, impressed with her skills. Placing the mirror down on a ledge near her station he got out of his chair and turned to her.
The two stared at one another, practically chest to chest. “Will you come to the grand prix?” He asked breathlessly.
“Nothing would delight me more but I have to work.” Y/N sighed looking away for a moment before her attention was pulled back to Charles.
“If you can't come to the race can you accompany me for dinner after?” Y/N looked at Charles, her cheeks getting ever so pinker.
“Mr. Leclerc are you asking me on a date?”
“That depends, would you like to go on a date with me?” Charles asked, not missing a beat.
��Yes Charles, I would love to.”
Charles smiled from ear to ear, desperately wanting to bounce off the walls with excitement, stopping himself before he could embarrass himself. “Then I will see you tomorrow.” He nodded in satisfaction.
“See you tomorrow Charles.” Charles walked away from the hairdresser, giving her a quick glance back before making his way back to the lady at the front desk.
“Hair looks great! What did you think of Y/N?” She asked, ringing him up so he could make his payment.
“She's fantastic, I think maman will have some competition.” The two laughed, Charles paid, giving her a quick goodbye.
As soon as he exited the salon he called his mom, updating her on his post race plans, greatly thanking her for offering Y/N to cut his hair.
#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#Charles Leclerc x hairdresser!reader
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Ex’s and Oh’s
𖤐Paring: Ex Husband! Ghost x Ex Wife! F! Reader
𖤐Pronouns: She/Her
𖤐AN: Sorry, it has taken me so long to post this, I've been busy and struggling with writers block for a while, it was hard to think of a way to start this story and also trying to not make it boring as well. Anyways, I hope you all will enjoy the fic version of headcanon
𖤐Based On: ex-husband-simon
𖤐Warnings: fluff, smut, language, ex's to lovers, children, kissing/making out, more use of Simon, abusive relationship,
𖤐Summary: Divorce is hard, and Simon didn't know it at all, he loved his ex-wife and did everything he could to be there for his kids
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Simon waits in the driveway for his kids, Silas the oldest child and Luna his youngest. He remembers this house his first house he's ever bought with his now ex-wife Y/n.
Y/n had given Simon divorce papers because she was always worried about Simon when he was away on deployment. When she was pregnant with Luna, she couldn't handle the stress.
He watches the front door open and his kids come rushing out, Luna hugging Simon's legs and Silas hiked his bags into the back seat of his fathers truck.
"Come on, kids," Simon says, he turns and sees Y/n in the doorway being hold by her new boyfriend, Duncan. Simon couldn't stand him.
Duncan just leeched off of Y/n. Her money, home, food, he didn't pay bills, he was basically a roommate. Y/n tried to get Duncan many jobs but he never lasted then 4 days.
That was all information from Silas and Luna.
Simon looks at his kids helping Luna into her car seat.
"Daddy, can we go to the Zoo?" Luna asked.
"Maybe next weekend," Simon tells her.
"But I wanna go today."
"Not today baby."
"Why?"
"Because...it's close for cleaning."
"The Zoo isn't closed," Silas jumps in.
"Yes it is," Simon says, looking at his son to be quite. At the moment Simon didn't have anything plan with his kids, he just wanted to relax with his children and help them with homework if they needed it.
"Daddy?" Luna looks up at him.
"Not today," he says again. He shuts the door.
"I'm sorry for the last minute pick up," Y/n walks to her ex-husband.
"It's okay.
Y/n had a meeting and she didn't trust...Duncan. Sure they're dating and all, but she trusts Simon a lot more than Duncan.
"I can't believe you asked him to do it...I'm surprised he even agreed," Duncan says, watching Simon pull out of the driveway. Duncan acts like Simon is a dead-beat father when he's not, Simon works and barely even gets to see his kids.
And Duncan doesn't even help out with the kids, the week ago, Silas needed to be picked up from football (Soccer) and Duncan "forgot" and Luna was home but locked out of the house and didn't know if anyone was home or not.
"What the hell do you mean? Simon is a good father, this isn't his first time picking up his children," Y/n says.
"But like...I'm surprised really," he chuckles.
"Duncan, he's not a dead-beat father," Y/n says.
"Sure, he is, sees his kids 40 days out of the year."
"He...works Duncan, unlike you," she says. "I need to get going."
"Can't believe you married that guy too, seems like an asshole."
"He never was!" Y/n stood up for her ex-husband but why? She's the one who gave him the divorce papers, why is she standing up for him? Because she still loves him.
Duncan was a distraction for Y/n, she still loved Simon, but couldn't bring herself to tell him that, she thought if she had a boyfriend maybe her mind will love him instead but it wasn't, she still loved Simon, and she'll defend him even if he doesn't want her to, she'll still do it for him.
Duncan also doesn't know he's a 'distraction' he thought Y/n did like him.
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Simon looks at his son and daughter in the rearview mirror they were eating their chicken nuggets or small cheese burger. They were hungry since Simon had picked them up around lunch time.
"How's everything?" Simon asked them.
"Good." Luna says.
"Amazing," Silas says.
"Good," Simon says as he starts to drive to his apartment complex.
Simon parked in his usual parking spot and he helps his kids out of the back seats of his truck. They head to the elevators and hit the 5th floor button going up.
Luna played with the toy she just got and Silas played with his. Once the door opened Luna headed to the apartment door and Silas walked with Simon holding his bag as Simon carried his daughters bag.
Simon opens the door and his kids rushed in going to their rooms grabbing more toys and dragging them to the living room that Simon cleaned just for them to mess it up again.
Simon smiles at his kids and jumps in to play with them, he jumps from playing Monster Trucks and Wrestling to Princesses and Pet Shops.
He likes to play with his kids, enjoying how they play and missed all times him and Silas use to play with each other, before Luna was born, he didn't play with her as much because of the divorce.
He lays on his back and Luna sits on his stomach, she pats his toned chest and was using his chest as a mountain for her Barbies to play mountain climber, he knew he had a big chest but he didn't think it was that big.
"Daddy, stop breathing it's messing with my Barbies."
"Baby, I can't just stop breathing," he chuckles which now causes his chest to bounce.
"Daddy," she groans.
"Okay, okay, I'll stop laughing, but I can't stop breathing," he smiles.
"Dad," he looks at his son, but he was looking at him upside down.
"Yes, buddy?"
"I don't like mama's new boyfriend," Silas says.
"You don't?"
"Yeah," Luna now jumps in. "He yells at us sometimes, even for nothing."
"Yelling at you? Are you sure it's just because you two might have...I don't know actually done something wrong?"
"Daddy, are you taking his side?"
"No, no, but-"
"No reason, dad," Silas says.
Simon sits up now holding his daughter so she doesn't fall and she slides down on his lap.
"I understand," he says, letting go of his daughter as she goes back to her Barbie's dreamhouse.
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9:00PM
His children had gone to bed now, and Simon decided to do something, something he's never done because it was never his business.
Duncan Matthews
Age: 31
Height: 5'11
Job: Unemployed
Criminal Background: DUI, 1st degree Stalking, Demotic Violence
"Goddammit Y/n...you're smarter than this," Simon groans.
Simon copies the link and pulls up his email, he was going to send it to Y/n. If she was unaware, which she's not, she wouldn't keep this guy around.
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Y/n was working late, she needed to get some files done and then she sees a notification pop up, it was from an anonymous email account.
She clicks it and then reading upon the email.
You're smarter than this with the screenshot of Duncan's police report attached to it.
She felt like she knew it was from. But she goes ahead and reads it anyways and then reading his charges.
*Ping*
Did you also know he yells at the children for no reason?
*Simon...what are you doing?* She thinks to herself.
Y/n then thinks of it, when she first brought Duncan home he was very rude to her children, but she brushed it off because sometimes her kids could be a little frustrating to deal with but she still loves them.
Duncan has also claimed that he didn't like kids and even though he knew about Y/n having kids still proceeded to be with her. Silas has brought up the fact that Duncan yelled at him and Luna a few times but Y/n thought was because they were doing something Duncan had told them many times to stop, so she brushed off again.
She now knows...she needs to listen to children more.
-----------
A Few Hours Later
Y/n was heading home now, she looks at her home from inside her car watching as the only light was on was the living room light, Duncan must've still been up.
She gets out of her car and locking it up and heading inside, she was right, he was still up, playing video games and yelling while he played them.
He was so annoying.
"Duncan, can you turn that off? It's almost midnight, and I have to go to bed to be able to get ready for work tomorrow," she says. She doesn't want to be up all night because of her dumb boyfriend always yelling at the games he play.
"Later, I'm not done-"
"Now, please," she cuts him off.
"Seriously? ALL I DO FOR YOU AND THIS IS HOW I AM TREATED!?"
"DO WHAT!? YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE A JOB, I PAY FOR EVERYTHING! WHAT DO YOU MEAN EVERYTHING YOU'VE DONE FOR ME!? YOU DON'T DO SHIT, BUT SIT HERE AND PLAY YOUR STUPID VIDEO GAMES AND I'M FINDING OUT YOU YELL AT MY CHILDREN!!! WHAT TYPE OF PERSON ARE YOU!?" She yells back.
*Smack*
A sharp pain stung on Y/n's right cheek, she holds her cheek, tears threatening to fall from her eyes.
He just smacked her.
------------
A Few Days Later
Simon held his daughter and set her in her car seat. Silas buckled himself up and was ready to go back to his mothers house.
As Simon pulled into the driveway helping his kids out of the truck, the front door opened and he turns with a smile on his face ready to tell her how much fun his children had at his apartment, but he sees her face.
She looked upset, and then he sees a bruise over her left eye and a red mark on her cheek.
"Y/n?"
"Thanks for bring my kids back safely," she says, giving him a smile.
"Hey...are you okay?"
"Don't worry about me," she says.
"Hey," Simon then cups her face. She doesn't move, it was like she misses his touch and his worried face. "What...the hell happened?" He asks.
"He-"
"Oh finally you brought the kids back, how was it, rug rats?" Duncan asks coming outside and Y/n moves her face from Simon's hands.
"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO!?" Simon grabs Duncan and Y/n ushers her children inside to not witness whatever Simon is going to do to Duncan.
Simon grabs Duncan's shirt throwing him to the ground, Duncan let's out a groan when his back hits the concrete.
"SIMON!" He stops whatever he's about to do, and starts pushing Duncan down the concrete stairs.
"Get the fuck away from my family!" He yells and Duncan starts to scramble to his feet and run away from the house. Simon was breathing heavily to stop himself from chasing after Duncan.
Simon turns to Y/n and her children hiding behind their mom, they've never, never, ever seen Simon like this before, it was almost like they didn't even know him.
"Are you okay?" Simon asks, Y/n.
"Simon-"
"I know...I don't need to fight your battles for you...but when I saw you standing there with bruises on your body, I just lost control because I knew he was the one who didn't, you don't just get those from nothing," he says.
"You-I could've called the police!"
"Tell him to collect his things, I'll be here when he does show up. I don't want him near my children or you ever again."
"You're not my dad-"
"So, you want him to keep doing what he is doing?"
"No."
"Then call him and tell him to collect his shit, and I'll be here to make sure no funny business happens, do you understand?"
"Fine."
-------------
It was a week later now, Simon did what he said he'll do and he stayed in the house as Duncan and few of his friends gathered his shit and left, it was easy, a little too easy.
"Don't ever fucking come back, do not ask her for forgiveness, now fuck off, all of you," Simon says, slamming the door in their faces and he watched as they left the driveway.
"That was too easy, dad," Silas says as he stood next to Simon.
"I know..." Simon bends down to his son. "I want you to keep an eye on your sister and mother, anything happens, you call me or the police do you understand?"
"Yes, dad."
"I don't need protection," Y/n says.
"You do, if I'm not around," Simon says.
"Mommy, daddy, can we go to the park? It's nice out and I want to play outside," Luna says from the living room.
"Sure, come on, go get shoes on," Simon says. Y/n looks at Simon in a 'are you serious?' type of look, she wanted Simon gone, she wanted to spend her day with her children since Duncan was now gone for good.
"What?" Simon teases.
"Mama, are you mad at dad?" Silas asked, looking up at Y/n.
"No, no, I just...I just wanted to spend time with you guys."
"You can spend time with us, with daddy!" Luna yells coming down the stairs.
Y/n looks at Simon then down at her kids. Maybe, just maybe she'll let this slide once, she's only doing this for her children.
----------
Luna was going down the slide and Silas was at the bottom of the slides arms wide open catching his younger sister from falling onto the dirty mulch.
"I'm sorry, he did those things to you-"
"Could we not bring him up, please. I'm only here for my children, I'm not here...to be friends with you, Simon."
"I don't understand what I did for you to hate me?"
"I don't hate you Simon."
"Seems like it," he rests his chin on his palm.
"I'm just...annoyed...I'm not a Princess that needs saving every time I get into trouble, I can handle myself. It seems like every time you're over here, I'm somehow in trouble and you come to my rescue," she says.
"I know you're not a Princess, Y/n...and I don't mean to come to your rescue every time, but I can't just sit back and watch someone hurt you for no reason," he tells her.
"Mama! Luna is picking weeds again!"
"DANDILIONS AREN'T WEEDS!!" Luna yells at her brother while giving the brightly yellow flowers to Y/n.
"Thank you, baby," she kisses Luna's temple as her kids went back to play.
"I'm glad you let me come," Simon says.
"Again...I only did it for my kids."
"I know."
-------------
A month later now. Simon was waiting for his kids, Luna or Silas haven't said anything about Duncan in a while, or anything about Y/n since the park.
Simon sees his kids rushing out and Luna pulled on Simon's hand.
"What, Luna?"
"Mama, wants to see you," she says.
"Okay, okay, get in the truck and I'll be right back, okay?"
"Okay," she says as his kids get inside the truck he goes into the house.
"Y/n?" He calls out. "Y/n?" Once more.
"Upstairs," he goes upstairs and sees at the end of the hallway, her bedroom door open, he walks to the door, peeking through seeing her in a towel and she seemed like she was getting ready for work.
"Y-You wanted me?" He asks. Y/n turns and let's him in.
"Yeah, can you tell me which shirt would go great with my skirt?" She holds up a red button up and and black on, her skirt was just a plain black pencil skirt, black goes with anything, but why is she asking him? She already knows what will go good with the skirt.
"I think they both will look good with it-but why are you asking me?"
"Because...your opinion is a bit valid," she says, dropping the shirts.
"My opinion is valid?"
"Forget it," she says, she turns her back and Simon smiles, she was asking for his opinion.
Simon walks to her, his hands gently caressing her waist. She doesn't stop him, she misses his touch. It was always gentle and soft, he wasn't demanding for her attention or anything, he just wanted to know if his touch still had an effect on her, and it did.
He kisses her neck, earning a soft moan from her lips, her hand goes to his cheek to let him keep going. Y/n then leans back into his touch, his hands going to her towel and letting it lose and fall to the ground.
She turns and looks at Simon, his eyes roam all over her body, from her breasts and her perky nipples to her thighs that were squeezing together. She didn't cover herself up like she was embarrassed that he was staring at her bare body. For fuck's sake, Simon has seen her naked body before.
Simon picks her up and putting her on the bed, moving her clothes out of the way, he picks up her thighs and moving them against her chest, he leans down and kisses her lips.
His tongue along with hers dancing around, and soon her was messing the belt of his pants. He looks into her eyes almost like he was asking for permission. She slightly nods her head, allowing him to push himself into her, earning a soft moan from her lips.
He slowly rocks his hips back and forth watching her head go back against the mattress of her bed, her arms wrapped around his neck pulling him closer to her chest and his kissed both sides of her breasts and then started to suckle on her left nipple while his hand kneads her right breast.
Simon starts picking up the pace her moans were loud now and with every thrust, her moans would go at a higher pitch. She missed this feeling of Simon being inside her. Duncan could never do what Simon does.
Simon looks down at her stomach seeing him just barely bulging from her lower stomach. He smirks and holds her face to let her look at him as he goes a bit harder now. Her nails dug into his arm from the pleasure.
"S-Simon." She moans.
"I know, baby, I know, you can come," he tells her, with a few more thrusts she ends up coming on his dick. He smiles and pulls out watching both of their cum mix together.
He goes down and starts cleaning her up, he then remembers.
"The kids! I need to get going," he says. "I love you, and I'll see you later, sorry for this all of a sudden."
Y/n smiles, he's so flustered, he's never been like that before, she rolls on her side to watch him leave, she gets up and starts cleaning herself up and starts to get ready for work.
She missed him, she truly did. She just hides it.
#cod modern warfare#cod mw2#cod mwii#cod x reader#fandom#fanfic#call of duty#mw2#cod#ghost cod#ghost x y/n#simon ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost call of duty#ghost mw2#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost#simon riley x you#simon riley smut#simon riley x reader
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I hate a lot of trends in climate-change-aware nature writing, but this is one I particularly detest: works insisting that we live in a "post-natural" world.
The lostness, bewilderment, aching, and searching in this piece is understood by the author to be an all-consuming and universal dysphoria, when it is actually a highly specific predicament that the author put himself into: He tried to understand the universe exclusively through the point of view of white people.
I mean that Purdy takes the colonizer point of view without realizing that it is a colonizer point of view. He thinks the colonizer point of view is a universal document of the authentic, naive encounter of "humanity" with "nature," instead of burning wreckage left over from the apocalyptic destruction of a rainbow of ideas and cultures.
It feels weird to be talking about this as a white person, but it shouldn't, any more than it should feel weird to say (as a white person) that aliens didn't build the pyramids.
Very little of what he's writing about would exist or make sense without European colonization of the world. Purdy constantly says "we" and "our" in reference to things that are very restricted to a particular cultural point of view, as if totally oblivious to the idea that other cultures and other perspectives even exist. When he searches for historical references to chart "human" relationship with nature, history goes like this: Pre-Christian religion in the British Isles->British monarchy-> George Washington-> Industrial Revolution->Thoreau.
He manages to repeatedly stumble over giant hunks of colonialism embedded in every concept he's thinking about, like boulders obstructing a pathway, and pretends so hard that they don't exist that his points are janky and meandering. For example, his discussion of Helen Macdonald's book H for Hawk, touching upon human identification with the landscape and with non-human "nature," blunders into this:
Those who love (certain parts of) nature are often making a point of preferring it to (certain kinds of) human beings. The problem is not only literary. Macdonald describes an encounter with a retired couple who join her in admiring a valley full of deer, then remark how good it is to see “a real bit of Old England still left, despite all these immigrants coming in.” She does not reply, but is miserable afterward. The meaning of landscapes is always someone’s meaning in particular.
Confronted with all of this, Macdonald tries to shake off the complicities of her own identification with the terrain: “I wish that we would not fight for landscapes that remind us of who we think we are. I wish we would fight, instead, for landscapes buzzing and glowing with life in all its variousness.” The alternative that Macdonald wishes for is, of course, not an escape from political-cultural projection onto landscape, but another approach to that same practice — really, the only one a 21st-century cosmopolitan is likely to feel comfortable embracing.
AND THEN HE JUST SEGUES INTO THE NEXT POINT LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED. Like don't worry about it :) We will simply project onto landscapes in a non-racist way :) because we aren't racist anymore in the 21st century :)
The next book he discusses is Landmarks by Robert MacFarlane, which is basically about how the vocabulary of landscape in English is sterilized and monoculturized, and contrasts that with Scots Gaelic. This is how Purdy explains the thesis of the book:
Our sense of what lies outside ourselves has been blunted by “capital, apathy, and urbanization” — enemies likely to draw a range of friends, from cultural Marxists to Little Englanders to those who would like to see a bit more effort, please. But behind this scholarly sketch, Macfarlane’s work is testament to a pretheoretical obsession with unfamiliar ways of encountering places. We disenchanted and distracted (post)moderns describe terrain, he complains, in terms of “large, generic units” such as “field,” “hill,” “valley,” and “wood." (...) Many people who have lived intimately with landscapes have had words for nuances of form, texture, and use. Macfarlane’s purpose in Landmarksis to gather these words as proof of how precisely it is possible to name a place, and so, perforce, to know it.
Why is Gaelic endangered? Because of an effort to extinguish its speakers' culture. This article I found on it talks about the history of the language's decline, and it's strikingly similar to what happened to indigenous people in the Americas and Australia, with children being put in schools where they were beaten with sticks for speaking their native language.
This whole essay is about Purdy's general disappointment with nature writing, his craving for an ineffable Something, some sort of magical, primitive identification with the natural world. In the very first paragraph he claims that the pictures of animals on nursery walls are "totemic" and quotes a guy saying that zoos are an "epitaph" to the relationship between people and animals. It's never very clear what he means, but he uses the term "animism" repeatedly, such as when he says this about MacFarlane's goal in writing Landmarks:
His quarry is an animistic sense that Barry Lopez once identified in “the moment when the thing — the hill, the tarn . . . ceases to be a thing, and becomes something that knows we are there."
Given that ambition, Landmarks, which Macfarlane calls a “counter-desecration phrasebook,” can be disappointingly thin as a lexicon. Too many of the terms are simply dialect or Gaelic for some generic form, such as “slope,” “hilltop,” “stream,” or “tuft of grass.” The effect is less pointing out how many things there are to see than cataloguing how many names there are for the same thing.
This is Purdy missing the point, perfectly crystallized as though frozen in amber. He is oblivious to the clear subtext of a language showing a culture's connection to its home, and of the violence against that culture. The Gaelic language doesn't make him feel primal and mystical the way he wants it to, therefore it doesn't mean anything to him. MacFarlane doesn't make him feel a magic animistic connection to nature, therefore his book must have failed at its task.
Who gives a shit? Gaelic isn't FOR you.
He discusses another book about a guy that hikes a bunch of Cherokee trails, but I don't know what to say about that one, observing it through the sludge of the reviewer's unwillingness to recognize that historical context exists. He summarizes his disappointment in a confusing way, using the Gaelic language as a symbol for an obscure and inaccessible place where the answer to your personal emotional cravings lives (???) Then he talks about a kind of epistemicide, or extinction of knowing, of nature, but again, totally oblivious to any relationship to colonization.
Every inhabited continent has been denuded of ecosystems and species. Most North American places have shed wolves, elk, moose, brown bears, panthers, bison, and a variety of fish and wild plants, which were all abundant four hundred years ago.
Wow, I wonder what happened four hundred years ago?
This writing acts like the dominant Eurocentric attitude towards the world is universal, but the author is haunted by this nameless specter of the possibility of a different way of thinking, which he treats as some kind of mystical, primordial state hidden in the past instead of just a different cultural perspective.
Not only does he not recognize that his own cultural perspective of Nature is dysfunctional and unsatisfying because it was created by exploitation and genocide of other cultures and their symbiotic relationships, he acts like other perspectives don't exist. Take his perspective on forests and the mycorrhizal network:
Wohlleben’s emphasis on interdependence and mutual aid is part of a recent tendency to recast nature in an egalitarian fashion — as cooperative, nonindividualist, and, often enough, hybrid and queer, in contrast to the oaks of generals and kings. Nature does answer faithfully to the imaginative imperatives and limitations of its observers, so it was inevitable that after centuries of viewing forests as kingdoms, then as factories (and, along the way, as cathedrals for Romantic sentiment), the 21st century would discover a networked information system under the leaves and humus, what Wohlleben calls, with an impressive lack of embarrassment, a “wood wide web.”
Listen, I don't think this is accurate to how Europeans thought of forests throughout time, let alone "humanity" in general. The emphasis of power and competition in ecosystems emerged after Darwin, in collusion with capitalism and "race science." Trees have been symbols of life, wisdom and selflessness, and regarded as sacred or even sentient, for centuries before that. But on top of that, this is just blatantly pretending that only white people's ideas count as ideas.
It's the same dreck as all the other "literary" writing about climate change: self-pityingly and unproductively mourning "Nature" and a fantasized "wild" state of the Earth, ignoring colonialism, treating human influence of any kind on other life forms as something that either destroys them or makes them soft and "tame."
I'm tired of reading nature writing from people that obviously do not go outside, or if they do, they do it in such a suffocatingly regimented, goal-oriented way that they can't just sit outside and relax.
Maybe I shouldn't be such a hater if I want to do nature writing. But my love of nature is WHY I am a hater.
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nia, you’ve inspired me to write this with that sleepover question you asked abt me n atsumu a while ago 🫶🏻🫶🏻 I live soley to bug him. it’s my favourite hobby. @luvring
gn!reader, no physical descriptions. fluff fluff fluff fluff fluff fluff fluff fluff fluff.
the faint humming of the television as it played whatever movie had been reduced to background noise is the only sound in your apartment’s tiny living room.
you’re laying on top of atsumu, who’s holding you so tightly against him to make sure you don’t roll off and hit the floor. it had been a lovely day together, going out for lunch and then spending the day at your place playing video games and watching movies. you had even attempted to cook dinner together (a task neither of you are particularly good at, but the simple Italian recipe you found seemed to work out well). you’ve been “sleeping” on his chest for the past half hour, but if you’re being honest, you’re slightly more awake than you’re pretending to be.
according to the clock on your wall, it’s 9:30. which means atsumu has to start heading home soon. it’s the time he set for himself and he’s always so good at keeping his schedule, but you don’t want him to go just yet.
…or at all.
you stay perfectly still on top of him without tensing up too much to avoid suspicion, hoping he’ll just forget and stay the night. with the way he’s gently rubbing one of his hands up and down the skin of your back, you almost fall asleep in his arms for real. but then you feel him slow to a stop.
he pulls his hand out from under your shirt, slowly, you assume it’s so he doesn’t ‘wake you up’, and sighs. you can just picture him checking his phone and realizing, so you do what any scheming partner would- you pretend to wrap your arms around him tighter and nuzzle into him in your sleep.
but atsumu’s observant. he knows you’re not actually sleeping (your breathing hadn’t quite evened out yet) but you are getting there, so he dares to disrupt the serene environment and kisses your forehead to soften the blow.
“baby,” he says, and you immediately shake your head in protest. “ya gotta move, sweetheart. it’s time for me to go.”
“noooo,” you whine, and he thinks it’s the cutest sound he’s ever heard.
he knows you don’t want him to leave just as much as he doesn’t want to leave either, but even though he hates the very idea of it, he has to be up early for practice and you live a bit further away than he’s willing to accommodate for on such short notice.
you nuzzle into his neck a bit more and he sighs again. “angel, please?”
you tilt your head up to look at him and he worries about the angle your neck is twisting at. he brings a hand up to cup the back of your head to keep you from moving it any more.
“‘tsum, please stay?”
turns out you were closer to falling asleep than he anticipated. your voice is so soft and clearly riddled with sleep that he almost caves.
but then he remembers last time this happened and how he had to wake up at 4:30 to make it back to his own apartment to shower, change and pack his gym bag.
and he shudders.
“lovebug, ya know I wish I could, but I really can’t this time. can ya let me up?”
you grumble a bit at the nickname, peering up to glare at him, and he thinks you’re really going to give in, but instead you just lock your legs tight around his.
of course you’re not making this easy for him. when do you ever?
“baby!” he can’t help but laugh, because he absolutely adores you for it.
“you can’t leave if you can’t move,” is what he thinks he hears muffled against his chest.
“that a challenge?”
you shrug and he just scoffs.
“cause if it is… I think we both know how quickly you’d be proven wrong.”
it’s true and you do in fact know it, but you’re just desperate enough to delude yourself into thinking you could keep him down with sheer determination alone.
so when you hold your ground and get defeated in milliseconds by him manhandling you and carrying you to your room, it’s a good thing you have a backup plan ready.
“okay, okay! you win, so your prize is taking me home with you for a sleepover at your place!”
he freezes just as he’s about to dump you on your bed (and presumably tuck you in so you don’t try and jump him on his way out like you have many times before).
atsumu wonders why he hadn’t thought of that as he breaks out into a wide grin. he curls you closer towards him and presses kisses all over your face and neck. “you and your beautiful brain! Oh I love ya so much,” and then he drops you onto the bed. “pack a bag, you’re comin’ over.”
ten minutes later, you’re out the door and no longer tired. it’s a struggle to lock your door when you’re still slung over his shoulder and trying not to laugh so loud that you wake up your neighbours, but like most other situations, he’s there to keep you steady.
“take your time babe, not like we’re in a rush,” he teases while swaying back and forth to make things harder.
you feel delirious, from love or being held upside down you’re not quite sure, but you giggle some more and smack his back. “‘atsumu, come on.”
he relents and soon enough you’re in his bed, playing with his hair. the roles seem to have reversed, because now he’s the sleepy one and you’re admiring the view.
you feel his breath tickle your neck and the goosebumps that follow. he nuzzles into you further and you can feel the movement of his lips when he says “we should have a forever sleepover.”
you turn into a puddle of goo. “yeah? you want to spend every night together?”
he nods and grumbles when you move your hand away from his hair. “wan’ ya with me every night. wanna come home to ya. and I wanna be the first thing ya see when you get home too.”
you coo at your sleepy golden retriever of a boyfriend and he hides his face against your shoulder. “you’re adorable when you’re tired, baby.”
“not as cute as you were earlier, that’s for sure.”
you smile and press a kiss to his scalp before forming a response for his unofficial proposal to move in together.
it’s not as though you haven’t thought about it. it’s constantly on your mind, especially since staying at his place has started to feel less like being a guest and more like an extension of your own home.
if he were to ask you properly, you would most definitely say yes, but since he’s half asleep and most likely doesn’t realize what he’s insinuating…
“we’ll talk about it more tomorrow after you get back from practice. sleep, angel, it’s late. I love you,” you whisper.
he nods a little and repeats the sentiment in a soft, slurred murmur before nodding off for the night.
you’re sure to hug him a little tighter as you drift off soon after and dream of him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
cheesy ending, but I’m feeling soft for him :( so can you really blame me??
tagging some more lovely people :3 @emmyrosee @dira333
#atsumu x reader#miya atsumu x reader#atsumu x reader fluff#atsumu miya x reader#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x gender neutral reader#atsumu fluff#haikyuu fluff
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ok ok, so you said you wanted some ideas for a camp counselor James, so I am here to supply one! What if reader was teaching the kids lashings and knots, and when cutting the rope with a pocket knife, their hand slips and they cut themselves, so reader tells one of the kids to get the nurse (because their hand is bleeding and they can't stand from the grass) but the kid comes back with James instead (because the kid panicked and James is the first person she saw) and James helps reader get to the nurse while fretting over their hand
Thank you for requesting angel!
cw: blood
camp counselor!James x fem!reader ♡ 827 words
A hiss escapes you as the knife slices across your hand. You drop it and your fist clenches closed on instinct, but not before the kids watching you see.
“Are you okay?”
“Did you cut yourself?”
“Do we call 999?”
“No, it’s okay,” you say, keeping the pain out of your voice. “Accidents happen. This is why I’m the only one who gets to use the knife, see?” You take a second to pray it’s not bad, but when you open your hand blood spills onto the grass beneath.
You squeeze it shut again, breathing through the wave of dizziness that nearly takes you under. The only thing worse than scaring your kids by bleeding all over the place would be traumatizing them by passing out on your way to the nurse.
“Mia.” You look to the most responsible girl in your cabin with the most reassuring smile you can piece together. “Can you go get the nurse for me, please?”
She nods, eyes wide, and sets off. You spend the next couple of minutes trying to distract your kids and yourself, but when an adult-sized shadow falls over you and you look up in relief you very nearly swoon for different reasons.
“Hey.” James’ brow is puckered. It doesn’t suit him, you think, but he looks lovely anyways. He probably can’t help that. “I heard we’ve had an accident.”
“Sorry,” Mia pipes up, “I couldn’t remember where the nurse’s office was, and I—”
“It’s okay,” you tell her, making your voice slow and soothing to combat her squeakish one. “You did your best, and I appreciate it.”
James flashes her a smile about ten times more effective than your own. “You have good instincts. Really, no one’s more equipped to help your fearless leader than me.” He sets a hand on your shoulder, softening his voice as he leans down close to you. “Are you alright?”
“I’m worried I’m gonna pass out,” you admit.
“Can I have a look?”
“It’s bleeding a lot, James. I don’t want to open it.”
“Alright, you’re okay. Let’s get up.” James uses his grasp on your shoulder to pull you to his chest, holding your elbow with his other hand as he stands the both of you up. The change in altitude makes you immediately woozy, and a quick sigh escapes you as he scrambles to get a better grip, one arm banding around your waist. “Do you need me to carry you?”
“No, sorry. I think I just…sorry.”
You expect him to tease you, but maybe you should have thought better of him. “What’re you sorry for? You’re alright, lovely, just let me know if you change your mind. Or just collapse on me, and I’ll get the point.”
He starts walking you towards the nurse’s office, your unsturdy legs following behind you. James’ body is warm and solid. You can feel the flex of his bicep pressed tight to your back, and the material of his shirt is softly worn. You don’t realize you’ve dropped your cheek onto it until you register the chatter you’re leaving behind and pick your head up.
“The kids,” you murmur, making to turn around. James keeps you held to him, but stops.
“Hey, guys,” he calls back to them, “my cabin’s in arts and crafts with Charlie, do you wanna go down there and tell her I sent you?”
There’s a few excited calls of agreement, and James waits until your campers start heading in that direction before you both continue.
“You cut yourself with your knife?” he asks, peering over your head to see where you’ve tucked your injured hand tight to your chest. It’s still dripping blood as you walk, though you think slower than before. “Is it deep?”
“A little.” You sigh. The sun feels hotter than it did a few minutes ago, and yet James’ touch has the beginnings of a shiver curled up at the base of your spine. “I think I probably scarred my kids for life.”
You can feel James’ chuckle reverberate through his chest. “Don’t worry, they’ll be fine. Kids are hardy, especially these ones. One of my boys put hot sauce in another’s coke yesterday and the kid barely even flinched. Drank the whole thing.”
You feel your lips tugging upwards. “Well, my girls are better than your boys.”
He huffs a laugh. “I could so prove you wrong, but I don’t make a habit of arguing with the wounded.”
James gets you to the nurse’s office in one piece. You expect him to go then, but he insists on staying to make sure you’re okay. He keeps you tucked into his side, scrubbing his hand up and down your arm intermittently and kissing your hair when the nurse has to clean your cut. He lets you leave your cheek resting on his chest, and you still feel dizzy for a myriad of reasons, but your injury is no longer one of them.
#camp counselor!james potter#camp counselor!james potter x reader#james potter au#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter x self insert#james potter fanfiction#james potter fanfic#james potter fic#james potter hurt/comfort#james potter h/c#james potter imagine#james potter scenario#james potter drabble#james potter blurb#james potter one shot#james potter oneshot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders era#marauders x reader
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All's Well That Ends Well
Hockey!Azriel x Figure Skater!Reader
Summary: Anon Req: our figure skater bby would totally wear azzies jersey over her pretty sparkly dress if he wanted her to 🥺
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 1,044
Notes: Belongs to the Shut Out & Penance & Out of Order world
_________________________________________
Raucous clapping and cheering surround you.
Your chest heaves from exertion, but it’s a good feeling, one that goes all the way to your bones, one you know will linger for days. That’s okay, because you nailed your performance today. This competition is in the bag.
The smile you’d been forcing onto your face for the entirety of your routine turns into a real grin at the noise. You pull yourself from your ending stance, taking a quick skate around the rink one last time, waving to those in the stands. The energy in the arena is insane and you’re really feeling it, a splitting smile on your face that falters when you meet the familiar hazel gaze of Azriel.
He’s not supposed to be here.
The Velaris Bat’s have one of their most important games of the season tonight against the Springview Wolves, their rival team of almost four decades. You have no idea how the feud started and don’t care to know; something about a broken bone or a girlfriend being stolen, you have no idea and didn’t care to listen when Cassian tried explaining it to you one night at the local dive bar you’d run into a few of the players at.
You’d turned right the fuck around when you saw them and pulled out your phone to text your friends to meet up with you somewhere else because you see enough of the hockey team whilst having to share one rink, but Azriel had caught you before you could dip outside and all but dragged you into the back alley for some precarious touching that you were not going to say no to.
You’ve been a little tense lately leading up to your competition. No one would have blamed you for what you did with the sexy hockey player.
Azriel looks proud. There’s a slight lift to the corner of his mouth, the most emotion he’ll show in public like this, even though he thrives off of the chaos of the arena when he plays. His hazel eyes sparkle as they track you, how you only have eyes for him as you skate closer, a frown on your face, no doubt wondering why the hell he’s here instead of warming up for his own game that’s set to start in a few minutes.
He couldn’t miss your performance, though. The one you’ve been raving about all semester. The one you were worried about all night a few nights ago when his head was buried between your legs. Not even that could keep you from thinking about your performance today, immediately after he’d drawn multiple orgasms from you, you went right back worrying.
Shifting on your skates, you fly toward the door. Ice sprays when you shift, stopping abruptly before passing through the door, ignoring your coach in favor of rushing over to where Azriel’s standing stock still.
“What are you doing here?” you exclaim, falling into his arms when he opens them. Your heart flutters at the feeling of his strong hands warm on your hips. He’s here, he’s really fucking here.
He’s dressed in his hockey gear, and it’s clear that instead of hitting the ice with his team he’s snuck to the finally finished rink to watch your routine.
“Don’t worry about it, baby,” he whispers, and Azriel can’t help but pull you further into him. Can’t help but to dip down and capture you in a kiss so searing that it fully takes your breath away. It’s a little awkward, because of all of the padding he has on, but the both of you make it work. He adores the blush that stains your cheeks pink when you pull away, and it really is a shame he has his cup on right now, because his erection is pressing painfully against it. “Cass and Rhys are covering for me. I couldn’t miss this.”
“Really?” Tears fill your eyes. He’s proven himself to you, time after time, that he’s here for you, even though the both of you aren’t anything more than friends who like the feeling of each other’s fingers and tongues, hands, and intimate parts. “But your game, it’s important.”
“I’ll make it before puck drop,” Azriel reassures, “If I leave, well, now actually. I just needed to see you. Wanted to give you this.” You hadn’t noticed the jersey hanging over his arm, but when Azriel holds it up, showing off the number eight and his last name to you. “I hate to cover up your dress because you look sexy as fuck,” he murmurs, drinking you in once again. The feeling of his hot gaze makes your knees weak. “But I’m a selfish man. I can’t have anyone else looking at you like this, baby. And I want to see my name on your back.”
Fuck, does he have a way with words.
“Okay,” you breathe, letting Azriel help you into the black and purple jersey. It drapes long over your body, the fabric swallowing you, but you don’t care because the look in Azriel’s eyes is pure fire. “How do I look?” You ask innocently, giving him a twirl and reveling in his agonized groan.
“Tell me you’re mine tonight,” He asks gruffly, pulling you back into him by the fabric of the jersey. You move into him easily, wrapping your arms around his neck. Azriel’s breath is hot across your lips, and if you weren’t in the middle of a competition, you’d let him take you right now. “We’ll both have something to celebrate.”
Your brows furrow in confusion and Azriel grins, tilting his head to the scoreboard behind you with your scores. You currently hold the top score for the competition, with only a few skaters left to go. Holy shit you’re in first place.
You squeal, jumping up and down in his arms. Indeed, you’ll have something to celebrate tonight, when the Bat’s take home their win, and you with your own.
“Yes, Az. I’m yours,” you whisper, accepting his kiss. “Now, go beat the Wolves. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“You better be,” Azriel says with a wink and a teasing pinch to your ass. “I need my good luck charm there to help me win.”
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Hockey!AU Tag (will be tagged for any hockey fic, no matter paring):
@whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @going-through-shit @crazylokonugget @lilah-asteria @girl-who-writes-stuff @moosemahboi @sherayuki @lyinginameadow @acourtofatboydreams @blackthorngirl @shadowsingercassia @evergreenlark @hannzoaks @bloodicka @whyshouldihaveanam3 @elle4404 @cherry-cin @quinzzelx @blackthorngirl @i-am-infinite @feerique
#hockey!azriel#hockey!bat boys#azriel x reader#azriel shadowsinger#acotar#azsazz#acomaf#acowar#azriel#azriel/reader#acotar hockey au
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first kiss?! . wind breaker
kissing ur man for the first time..
featuring : sakura haruka, hayato suou, umemiya hajime
cw : kiss kiss, fluff, gn!reader, bad grammar sorry, reader talks abt lip gloss(suou) but doesnt mean theyre fem i guess???
a/n : wow i procrastinate alot im so sorry anon ily thx for this request:3
SAKURA HARUKA
you sit besides a sick sakura, with food and medicines in your hand. you look down at him with a concerned face. from what suou told you, sakura had gotten sick after the fight with keel though, the fight isn't what made him sick. "you shouldn't push yourself too much, you know?" you pout at him while helping him to sit up to eat the food you brought.
"i know. but, i'm the grade captain so.." you punch him in the head(lovingly). "what do you-!" he looks at you with a glare but then widened his eyes after he realized that you were on the verge of tears. "i'm worried sick waiting for you, you know?" you clenched your fist really hard and you look at sakura with a pout on your face, which makes him froze in his place.
he wiped off your tears and stare at your face for a while. when you were about to open your mouth again to scold him, he brings your face closer to his and give you a quick kiss. "sorry, for..making you worried." silence fills the room as you stare at sakura who's slowly realizing what he had just done, and how red his face is right now.
HAYATO SUOU
"suou, which one looks better on me?" you point your finger at two pink lip gloss while looking at suou, asking him to choose for you. "hm, if you're asking me then i'd have to say both looks good on you." he smiles at you. "well..which color looks best on me?"
"what are these lip products even for?" he asked you a question that made you chuckle. suou reminds you of an old man who won't stop asking about everything. "it's to make my lips look prettier and kissable, of course." hearing the word 'kissable' made him interested, so he chose one of the lip gloss and buys it for you.
after paying for the lip gloss, he told you to try it. "right here? like, infront of the store?" you looked at him with questioning eyes, and he just nods. "yeah, right here." so you did as he said and put the lip gloss on your lips. "hmm, what do you think? does it look pr—" suou grabs you by the waist swiftly and pulled you into a kiss, which makes your eyes widen.
"hm, even without the lip gloss, your lips are already kissable anyway."
UMEMIYA HAJIME
"name, look! this plant is growing already!"
umemiya jumps in his place like a toddler, which makes you chuckle. "that's nice to know." after that, he runs to another plant and say the exact same thing. of course, you're not tired of it. it's your man enjoying the stuff he likes, so you support it.
but right now, you're trying to do your assignments and he won't stop asking you to look at his plants. so you stood up from your place and approached him. "oh? are you finally done with your assignments?" he asked you a question, but you didn't answer. instead, you tiptoed to his height and held his cheeks in your arms, which makes him tilt his head to the side. before he opened his mouth to ask you a question, you kissed him. "sorry, but i'm trying to do my assigments here." after you pulled back, he chuckles.
"if this is your way to tell me to shut up, then i might talk a lot more."
naomi-nana. do NOT repost, do not use,(with or without permission), do not reccommend or talk about my works outside of tumblr.
#nao.writes#wind breaker#wind breaker (nii satoru)#wind breaker x reader#wind breaker x you#wind breaker fanfic#wind breaker fluff#sakura haruka x reader#sakura haruka x you#sakura haruka fanfic#sakura haruka fluff#hayato suou x reader#hayato suou x you#hayato suou fanfic#hayato suou fluff#umemiya hajime x reader#umemiya hajime x you#umemiya hajime fanfic#umemiya hajime fluff#sakura haruka#hayato suou#umemiya hajime
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Maybe | Bakugo Katsuki
Summary | Bakugo can't help but think about how much more he wants with his FWB as she sleeps next to him
Content | Fluff, fem reader, kinda suggestive content, reader is in a FWB relationship with Bakugo
Word Count | 0.7k+
A/N | I think this is so cute, I might make a part two to this. Maybe...
Bakugo didn’t ever think he’d fall in love. He didn’t think he’d be the type to want to settle down, to spend his life dedicated to another person.
As he lays in bed on his side, awake before you, as always, he can’t help but rethink that.
Sure, you’re using each other, that’s always been clear in your relationship, but he doesn’t really feel that way anymore.
You look so pretty when you sleep. It hasn’t been long since you started staying over sometimes after you sleep together, only starting because you were so tired that the pro hero didn’t trust you to get home safely. He would’ve taken you home himself but he had an early patrol the next day and needed to sleep. Of course, you offered to sleep on the couch, but he would’ve felt bad, using you for sex and then expecting you to sleep on his couch.
Your face always looks so relaxed when you’re asleep, the worries that plague you during the day completely gone, free from concern, from bother, from the stress of your daily life, of being associated with a man with such a high risk job, even as loosely as you are.
With a soft smile on his own face, sleep threatening to drag him back in, he reaches out his large, calloused hand, smoothing down your sleep tousled hair.
He can’t help letting him mind wander. Sometimes he imagines what it would be like if you were actually dating, not just friends with benefits. How it would feel to be able to lean over and kiss you softly when he wakes up, your soft lips his to claim whenever he wants, not just the few times he’s gotten the privilege of tasting them when you both got really into your time in the bedroom.
The imagined images of you, rolling over in bed, cuddling up closer to him as you slowly regain consciousness, whispering a morning greeting, mumbling something about how much you love him. He’d kiss your forehead, holding you close, telling you how beautiful you are.
Or he’d get up early and make you a nice breakfast with coffee, proper coffee, not that instant or convenience store shit you’re used to, turning to the door when he hears your soft footsteps plodding out of your shared bedroom, a blanket wrapped around your body, complaining about waking up to an empty bed, all dissatisfaction disappearing when you see the breakfast set on the table.
He snaps out of his delusions when he feels the bed shift next to him, your eyes slowly opening. He let himself get too distracted by his fantasies.
You sit up and stretch next to him, covering your breasts with his bedcovers.
“Good morning, Bakugo,” you smile, looking down at him laying next to you.
He mumbles a morning greeting back to you, quickly getting out of bed, cheeks dusted in pink. Which he obviously turns around to hide, getting dressed.
When he turns back to you, you’re fully clothed, brushing your hair. Smiling softly, he wishes he could walk up behind you and wrap his arms around you, or take the brush to brush your hair for you.
He knows he shouldn’t though, so instead he just asks you if you want any breakfast before you go.
You decline his offer, knowing he has to be on patrol soon, not wanting to bother him or risk making him late. His heart swells a little, realising you know his schedule by now. He supposes it’s to be expected, you’ve been part of this arrangement for quite a long time now, but it still makes him happy.
“Well, I’m gonna go now,” you smile, turning back to him. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”
“Yeah, see you later,” he says. “I’ll grab food after my paperwork’s done, yeah?”
You nod, looking up at the tall, muscular man in front of you. “Sounds good.”
Not long later, you walk out of his apartment, smiling as you say bye to him again.
He bites his lip as he watches you leave, feeling both happy and dissatisfied simultaneously.
Maybe one day he’ll tell you how he feels, what he wants. For now, he isn’t quite willing to take that risk, to risk the arrangement you have now, the friendship. He isn’t willing to chance losing you altogether. For now, he’ll take what he can get. Maybe one day.
Little does he know, you’re wishing you just had the guts to kiss him as you left his apartment, just once, to let him know how you feel. Maybe one day.
Maybe.
#bakugo#bakugou#bakugou x reader#bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo#katsuki bakugou#bakugo katsuki#bakugou katsuki#mha#my hero academia#mha fic#my hero academia fic#bakugo fluff#bakugou fluff#mha x reader#my hero academia x reader#bakugo fanfic#bakugou fanfic#bakugou x y/n#bakugo x y/n
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Braid Me || LH44 x Reader
Warnings: 18+, hand kink (if you squint), sub!Lewis, (kinda) degrading kink, oral (m)
Wordcount: 1.6k
I couldn’t find a gif where he didn’t have braids, so I settled for this picture instead 🤷♀️
She was comfortably laid in her bed. Softly tucked under her duvet
She groaned hearing her phone ring on the bedside table. She debated if she should pick it up or just let it ring through
She turned her body, picking her phone up. She looked at the screen
“What do you want, Lewis?” She asked, tone a little rougher than she intended
“Caught you at a bad time?” He asked, hearing her rough voice
“I was laying so comfortably until you called me” She explained, annoyed at hearing his chuckle “What did you want?”
“Can you help me redo my braids?” He asked, a sigh leaving his lips after he finished
“What? Why? Why me, I mean?” She asked, almost rambling as she sat up
“You’re good at it. You’re fingers are small and can handle it better than myself” He explained
“My fingers aren’t small” She said, sounding offended
“Sure, love” God, his voice always did something to her she was afraid to say “So… You wanna help me or not?”
“I hate you” She said as soon as he opened the door when she rang the doorbell “I’m only doing this because you said my fingers are small. They are not, by the way” She said, pushing past him into the hallway
He took her wrist, holding her hand beside his. Maybe her fingers were small, or maybe it was because his were big, but they did look small beside his
“They are small, love” He said, letting go of her wrist
Just keep touching me
It was something about his hands. The way she could still feel his touch on her wrist, or the way he would linger his touch on her a little too long
“Come on” He said, guiding her into the living room “Want anything to drink? Eat?”
“What do you have?” She said, sitting down on the comfortable couch
“Tea, coffee, hot chocolate, wine if you’re lucky” He said from the kitchen “I have some cookies, I think”
“Hot chocolate and cookies are fine, thank you” She said as he turned around to grab two mugs
“Here you go” He said, placing both mugs and the cookies on the coffee table in front of her
He sat down in between her legs, turning on the tv so he would be entertained while she would undo his braids and do them again
She started from the bottom, softly starting to undo his braids. She noticed the way he stiffened at her touch, which he always did, she didn’t really think about it
She also noticed the way he was only focusing on the tv, not touching his hot chocolate or the cookies, which is weird because he had put something about politics on, which he hated
She got the bottom row done, drawing her fingers through the locks, hearing his breath hitch for a second
“What’s the problem, Lew?” She put her hands on his shoulders, making him flinch slightly
“Nothing. Really, it’s not nothing” Never once looking up at him, afraid he would get lost in her eyes and become a blushing mess
“Okay. It’s just that you’re shoulders are stiff and you’re breath hitched” Her thumbs started circling his shoulders, making him hold his breath “I won’t ask anymore” She chuckled, pulling her hands back to his hair
She tried making small talk with him, but he came with short answers or hums
She had finally gotten the last braid undone “Comb?” She asked, holding her hand beside his shoulder
He placed it softly in her hand, shivering when she accidentally closed her hand around his fingers
She started brushing his hair, softly getting the knots out, getting it soft for her to braid again
She knew she promised to not ask again, but she kept thinking about the way his shoulders were stiff and his breath hitched or were held
“Turn around, Lewis” He hesitated, but did as she told him
He sat on his knees, heels digging in to his ass, his hands laying in his lap as he was looking up at her
“What’s wrong?” Her eyes were soft
It was the softness in them that he fell in love with. They way they could light up the entire room even in the middle of the night in a room with no light
“N-nothing” He looked down, feeling a blush creep up on his cheeks and down his neck
“Lewis” She hooked a finger under his chin, making him look up at her again
She noticed the way his pupils now were blown wide, covering the chocolate brown in his eyes
“Kiss me” His voice was low, just above a whisper “Please…?” His eyes flicked from her eyes to her mouth and back to her eyes
“Lew…” She sighed, subconsciously leaning further down, her hand dropping into her lap
“Please” He said again, putting his hands on her thighs, shifting in his position “I’ll do anything”
She cupped in jaw as his fingers tightened around her thighs. His breath hitched again when she leaned in
He kissed back immediately when their lips made contact. She meant it to just be one short kiss, but when she felt his lips on hers, she didn’t want to let go
She pressed their lips harder together, making him whimper. He managed to get up and into her lap without breaking the kiss
Her hands landed on his waist while his arms were around her neck, pulling her closer into him
Her tongue glided across his bottom lip, and he opened up without hesitation
The feeling of her tongue against his made a low moan slip from him, sending vibrations into her lips
Her hands traveled from his waist, over his hips, and landed on his ass. She squeezed him softly, drawing out a surprised yelp from him
“Please” He whimpered breathlessly, pulling slightly away from her lips so he could speak “Need you” His lips were still grazing hers
“Need me? How bad?” She asked in a teasing tone, lips going to his neck, making him moan quietly
“So fucking bad” His hands went to the hem of her shirt, tugging at it softly “Please. ‘M begging you”
Her hands went under his shirt, her lips away from his neck to pull it over his head and throw it carelessly on the ground
“Is that why you called me over? To get fucking laid?” She asked, hands tracing his abs, making him shiver
“N-no. I needed help with my braids” He said, eyes closed as his head laid in the crook of her neck
“And to get laid” She stated, hands working on his belt, loving the way he rolled his hips subconsciously
“No, but I was hoping” He let out a sigh when she finally got his belt off and zipped the zipper down
“This is not going to work like this” She sighed. She grabbed his hips turning them around so, he was sitting on the couch as she was on her knees in front of him
Her hands went back to the waistband of his jeans, hooking her fingers into both the jeans and his boxers, tapping his hip to lift up as she pulled them down
She helped him get out of the jeans so she could spread his legs and sit in between them, getting closer to his cock
“Just like that, baby” She says softly, kissing the inside of his thigh, earning a whimper from him as he throws his head back against the couch
She licks off the pearl of pre cum that had gathered on the tip, draw a moan from him and a shutter of his hips
She held his waist as her tongue circled around his tip, drawing lewd moans from him
“F-fuck. D-don’t tease. Please. Too sensitive” His hands gripped her biceps hard, nails digging into her skin through the sleeves
“What? Think you come from just this?” She asked teasingly before she resumed her actions
“If you keep going- fuck… Then, yes” His moans were like music to her ears. Music that hit just the right nerves “Please”
She gave in, hollowing her cheeks, taking all of him into her mouth, making him hit the back of her throat
She gaged around him, earning a whimper from him, making her smile up at him, starting to bob her head
“Fuck, please- Ah” He started bucking his hips, meeting her mouth halfway, hitting her throat at every thrust
“Please- Fuck- I’m gonna- Ah. Close” He was unable to form any proper sentence
She felt him twitch in her mouth, smiling to herself, she slowed down, which earned her a whine, but was soon replaced with even louder moans when she swirled her tongue around him again
“Yes- Fuck- Can- I need- I’m gonna” The ‘warning’ was the only thing he got out before he shot his cum down her throat, his whole body shaking
She swallowed all of his cum before standing up. Chuckling at the way he looked. Whole body covered in sweat, his curly hair clinging to his forehead, eyes closed, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace
“You okay, baby?” She asked, leaning down to kiss his jaw
“Mhm” He said, managing to open his eyes “Don’t think I can… Give you one more” He said honest, glossy eyes looking up at her
“It’s fine. We’ll do more another time. Come on, we’ll shower” She pulled him up from the couch, catching him when his knees gave out
“Another time? There’s gonna be another time?” He asked, placing his head into the crook of her neck
“Only if you want to” She said, helping him into the tub before starting the water
“Would like that” He said, leaning slightly forward so she could slide in behind him “Would really like that” He sighed, leaning into her touch behind him
#smut#formula one#dom!reader#Lewis Hamilton#Lewis Hamilton smut#Lewis Hamilton x reader#Lewis Hamilton x reader smut#sub!lewis Hamilton
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this sounds kinda fucked but like how would vox be toxic in a relationship?? who do you think would be like the worst character to be with in hazbin?
this sounds like a bummer of a request but i ask because you talk about how much you like character analysis posts, and you have a clear love for terrible people (same!)
AHHHHHH I GET TO TALK ABOUT EVIL PEOPLE!!
So let me just say that I feel like, of late, I haven’t given that much attention to how terrible of a person Vox is… But the thing is, no one wants to hear about how they would be mistreated in a relationship. I mean, I fear a lot of my posts seem delusion-ally out of character for this, but also it’s tumblr and as long as I continue have a firm grasp on what that character is actually like, mischaracterization can be excused for the sake of joy and whimsy. (However I can justify ANYTHING that I was written and tell you why they would **to an extent** do that. Actually that sounds really fun someone test me on that—)
Vox definitely gets the worst of ‘mischaracterization for the sake of joy and whimsy’ so here’s a small reality check! Don’t enjoy <3 **NOT PROOFREAD**
Constant surveillance of your every move. This meaning every question you google, all the television you watch, every stranger you smile at, he would keep track of it all.
Anything you do wrong, under his creepy surveillance, would be used against you during arguments.
No, even if you two are official, he does not stop fucking Val, and no, if asked, he will not stop.
He will lie to you if he feels he needs to, and will absolutely never feel bad about it no matter how big of a lie it is.
The worst of this definitely comes when you two are fighting and you call him out for something he 100% did.
He’s great at painting himself out in a good light, and when you’re fighting he does this by lying, and if that doesn’t work, hypnosis.
Yeah, he does that a lot too. If you’re not in the mood to fuck, now you are. If you’re hanging out with your friends tonight instead of him, no you’re not. I hope you all have blue light glasses!
Also, if all of his manipulation tactics fail to work on you, he just gets mad and really personal in all of his insults. It’s easy for him to do so when he’s studied you on his screen for so long.
Hope you’re not overly insecure too, he’ll take advantage of that to get what he wants from you.
Speaking of taking advantage of, if you’re famous or special or interesting in any particular way, he will 100% use you for press.
Also, he’s from the 1950s, no matter how modern he tries to be, a part of this mindset will always stay with him.
Meaning that he will obnoxiously try to be the manly one in the relationship, no matter your gender.
You will be feminized in his mind, at least for a good start of the relationship.
This also stems from his fragile ego, and seeing as he is the personification of toxic masculinity!
This is a dom reader blog, obviously, but even after fucking this kind of mindset out of him, these tendencies would stop, BUT be replaced by equally as terrible ones.
For example, especially if he’s the sub, he would just expect you to do things for him, to stick your neck out, to take care and dote on him.
If you’re not giving him enough attention as well, your internet will go out, your lights will flicker, and no electronics in your house will work.
This will stay the case until you are forced to ask him for help.
But you wanted to be in charge anyways, so why should this behavior be reciprocated?
I’ve talked about this in past posts, I can’t find it at this very moment but I go into detail more, but what does love look like for Vox?
He would probably either be shockingly indifferent towards you, until he falls in ‘love.’
Then, he will be terribly obsessed with you. Because the closest thing he can feel to actually love is devoted obsession.
Yes, it can last as long as love, but it isn’t.
Because, and let me say this loudly, a healthy relationship with Vox, or any of the Vees, is not possible. You can be close, but it is not and never will be possible!
Okay, so your second question, “who do you think would be like the worst character to be with in hazbin?”
Top three and in this order:
Any of the Vees
2. Alastor
3. Adam or Lute
I’m probably forgetting someone, but it’s alright. Top three remains the same.
And you know, you will never catch me defending any of those people. Because I feel like in this fandom there is some crazy internalized theme of being ‘morally correct’ when liking a character.
You can find a character entertaining or interesting, no matter how awful they are. It’s television, characters are supposed to be interesting. Liking their screen time, or finding them attractive, has virtually NOTHING to do with your moral compass.
SORRY FOR THE RANT AT THE END— This is going to flop so hard. ☝️😁
Lucifer content and Adam content coming out soon, BY THE WAY!! Just trying to answer the more question-y asks before putting out actual content. Also i’m bored with no real motivation so
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🪶 anon here! Can I request dating headcanons for 5 WHB Kings with gn s/o please?
Absolutely! I'm not sure if you want NSFW or not so I'm going to play it safe and keep it SFW
5 WHB Kings date headcanons
Let's see how these demons take you out on a date!
Sfw cut for length
Satan
Satan thinks anything with you alone is a date. Satan is not really a romantic person it's not something he's ever thought about before. Planning romantic dates he would need the help of his subordinates which will gladly help him plan a nice romantic date.
He's wearing a plain white dress shirt and ripped jeans. He gives you a helmet and takes you out on his motorcycle. You hold on to him as he rides out into the country of Gehenna. The two of you got into the wilderness. He knows this trail by heart as if he has been through these woods countless times until he shows you a small creek and a pond. "I found this place I come here to come down."yeah you can see that, deep scratches and some of the trees fully broken but the creek and the pond remained.
He invites you to swim your hesitant because you don't have any swimming clothes. Satan confusion "What? You don't swim naked??? Human's bathe naked. what's the difference?" Then drops the 'nothing I haven't seen' line with a shit eating grin that makes you want to smack him. the two of you, strip off your clothes and go skinny dipping, something he suggested. If you are worried about the local hell wildlife with a toothy grin, he assures you that he'll protect you.
You spend the day frolicking in the forest and playing in the water. Satan acting like a little lovable in nuisance, pretending to be the evil demon as he goes after you in the water. Grabbing you and dragging you closer to him as you squeal and bat water at him.
You pick flowers to put in his ponytail which he obediently lets you do (He's mad but he likes it, so he shuts up). Show building his demon strength. He picks up a whole tree from its roots out of the ground, puffing out his chest like a peacock. You sit down on that same tree after he placed it on the ground and the two of you talk about your lives, about humans, about devils... About angels. And that's the sound goes down he drives you back.
Mammon
Oh boy, instead of sending a text like any normal demon would he sends you a letter in case in gold. In that letter is Oh great... A date with Mammon dinner reservations on Saturday??? He sent you a package, too? Opening up the package, you see, Oh no, why is this in gold and white? How much is this? It feels like silk, and the price tag is conveniently on it. You tear off the price tag immediately, throwing it away. Mammon knows how to date He probably has been on tons of dates and he wants to show off. He wants to spoil you. He wants to give you the best night of your life so you'll always think of him on your other dates.
Mammon prefers you wear something of his on his dates He wants to deck you in his wealth give you what you deserve. He even is gracious enough to give you a ride to Tartaros And when you get there, you look absolutely stunning but not as stunning as Mammon looks in that tuxedo. You're staring directly at him, and he knows it. He gives you a confident smirk. His eyebrows raised giving you a 'like what you see?' look.
A fancy restaurant dimly lit in the VIP room reserved only for the king of Tartaros and his date tonight. A bottle of expensive alcohol is set on the table with two glasses. Candle lit even rose petals all over the table on the floor. You feel like You're with an A-list celebrity, The way Mammon is holding that glass and the menu. He looks seriously as if choosing his meal is the most important thing in his life. He tries to get you to order the more expensive options. He makes suggestions. "I've eaten here many times by myself. I've always gotten this one. It's pretty good. I think I'm going to have something different tonight."
You have to say the meal was amazing. And he watched you take every bite as satisfied smile on his face even asking you if it's good. "Good that's the food you deserve." He even ordered do you dessert to take home. (Your sure Satan will destroy that before you even get to it) despite how many times he would not keep his hands to himself tonight he is a gentleman holding open the door rolling out a chair for you even asking you politely if you would like this night to continue.
You thought that means going to his bed room nope. He takes you somewhere else He takes you to all the sights and tartarus he would want to show you All the sights he can show you tonight. He's upset that he can't show it to you all night. But he assures that there will be more dates.
Leviathan
Fucking terrible at dates. The whole scene plays out like Beauty and the Beast, where he demands you down for dinner, and you deny him. And his subordinates have to teach him how to ask you out properly. After they dress him up, make him look nice to you. Biting his tongue, he politely asks you down for dinner with him. You say yes because well he's not being an asshole and to be honest you barely have eaten since you came to Hades.
Levi is barely eating He is watching you the whole time to be honest he is very on edge. Is this what being on a date is? It's terrible His heart is filled with anxiety. When your eyes meet his he stumbled picking up his work and eating His cheeks turning pink.
He brings you out into the castle gardens, a place you have not been to yet. Because he brought you here and, to be honest, almost killed you. You probably see Hades as a hostile country. He wants to show you the beauty of his castle and his country. The two of you are alone in the garden. He doesn't want to be forceful again, something that his subordinates told him not to do to when your affection, but he can't help but feel a little jealous. You are admiring the beauty of The red roses and the hedges of his garden, but he wants that attention on him. He leaves your side for a second coming back with a flower. Levi does not know how to talk to people so it's hard he presents it to you quietly before stuttering "I saw you looking at them."
He could have sworn he saw you sneak a glance at him. His heart is pounding in his chest What kind of look did you give him??? Is it a glare?! Is it a smile?!! He has to know but he just can't bring himself to open his mouth as you walk down the courtyard together deeper into the garden, He keeps thinking back to how you didn't flinch away at his touch when he put the flower in your hair.
Something catches your eye: the vegetables? Your eyes light up with curiosity. Oh, look, he had never seen it before. So make sure to burn it in his mind. "Oh yes, I grow my own things here for the chefs to prepare. I'm quite picky with food. I'd rather grow my own things than worry about what the hell is imported in Hades." some vegetables you don't even recognize. He tells you about each one and what they taste like. "If you're still hungry, I can ask the chef to prepare you some-"You cut off his words when you pop a berry into his mouth. He grumbles but chews. As a bit of payback, he picks up a weird fruit and starts itching closer to you. The servants stare at you wide-eyed when you come back into the building covered in soil, their imaginations running wild.
Beelzebub
Beelzebubs style of dating is not only more casual but spontaneous. He'll just decide that "hey let's go out tonight, let's go on a date right now!" And his dating spots are more about having fun. If it isn't clubs or bars it's amusement parks or other places to have fun. You never know what you're going to get sometimes you'll start bar or club hopping, or it will be an attraction that he has been bothering you about for days.
He wants you to have fun. He wants you to let loose if he sees you hesitating only for a second film massage your shoulders. "Come on, have some fun... Abyssos is the funniest place in hell. Let's lose a little bit."He's only having fun when you're having fun. So, of course, he takes you to the best amusement park in all of Hell. Usually, the park is complete, and tickets are always sold out. "Don't worry, you're a pretty little head princess. Luckily for you, your date is the King."skipping all of the lines just because of special privilege didn't feel right to you, so you got to go in for free and do any games for free, but you agreed to still go through the lines.
You will feel like a child again for all the rights they have some of them are a little intense meant for demons of course. But there are still plenty of games and rides that are made for humans. And of course you do get to go on all of them for free so of course you're going to go on every single one of them. You practically drag each other around the park smiles big and eyes wide with wonder. Beelzebub started becoming interest in the food stalls more than the rides. He's always carrying some kind of food thing in his hand. Then he insists to go on a roller coaster. "What don't look at me like that I'm a devil a petty little roller coaster isn't going to affect me..."Cut to The glorious king of Abyssos in all his glory puking of what he just ate because the roller coaster upset his stomach.
Unlike the carnivals in the human world the games are not rigged. Devils just want to have fun according to Beel (it's just slightly gambling So you beg to differ), keep puffs out his chest and pride as he wins you a toy. You are very skeptical because Beels king status, but you take it anyway. The rush of winning hits him and suddenly you now have 20 stuffed animals and toys that you're hauling around. Good thing he has people to help him carry it :).
How the hell can this man still be eating after having his guts destroyed on that roller coaster here? He was munching away at what you think is a pretzel. Hell, food is weird??? After spending all day at the carnival, He's still hungry, asking you if You would like dinner. Usually, he would go to a club by now, but he knows that you are not a devil and you are not him, and after a day of excitement, that is enough for you.
Lucifer
He knows humans from a scientific standpoint, but he still cannot grasp human emotion. It's something that he pretends to understand, but he knows better. He has no idea how humans Court, so many things he does are a little outdated—showing up dressed nicely with some flowers and some gifts. He figured a nice walk in the park or be okay..."okay, I think I'm a little overdressed for this, I admit." He sighs. You seem to like it though so he does not care. His breath hitches when you rap an arm around his. He didn't know why he forgot that couples normally hold hands like this so he shouldn't be reacting this way.
Lucifer is silent the entire date He does not know what to say so he doesn't say anything. Really would be up to you to get him to speak ask questions and such. "Hm? Yes you can ask me anything, my dear I will not mind no matter the question, within reason of course."He is reserved He doesn't want to do anything unless you ask for it. Even though you want him to take initiative. You want him to kiss you.
You are not the only ones one dragon and one tiny little devil followed you. Peering at the two of you from the bushes. They were very excited that there King was going on a date This was a very special occasion and they want to know how it's going.
You find a place to sit, underneath a tree where the petals fall fluttering to the ground. A lot of your conversations seem to more about your health and how you've been doing and hell. You reassure him and he smiles putting an arm around you, he pulls you closer. The first time he had showed affection today, and you are loving it, nuzzling into his chest. The two of you taking the beauty around you hearing the wind looking at the cloudy sky. And enjoying each other's company. Until a cold raindrop hit you. Lucifer noticed What you thought was his cane was actually an umbrella as he opens it up. "Let's walk back home I do not want you to catch a cold."
He puts mostly you under the umbrella his shoulder dripping with water. You scoot closer to him and he invites you happily. The umbrella was something Gamigin pastored him to take with him. Nothing much happened but that's okay. Next time he proposes that you picnic when the weather is nicer. You like that idea.
#whb x reader#whb lucifer#whb leviathan#whb mammon#whb beelzebub#whb#what in hell is bad#what in “hell” is bad?#wihib#wihib x reader#whb satan#whb headcanons
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I always see you
Pairing: Minchan (mention of OT8)
Word Count: 4048
Summary: After their break Minho isn't quite happy with his currently gained weight. Struggling to accept himself, his friends make it worse by pointing out the changes of his body lovingly and teasingly. Chan tries to figure out what's wrong, but it takes a while until Minho lets him.
Warnings/Tags: angst, fluff, weight gain, minho hates the sight of himself, gets called soft, squishy, cute, etc. for it, minho collapses at the gym
do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -
Minho stands before the mirror, his eyes tracing the new curves and edges of his body. It's not new, this version of himself that greets him in the morning, but he never likes it. The changes their long break caused are undeniable: his cheeks fuller, his midsection softer. Each glance brings a new fresh wave of discomfort, a stark contrast to the image he had of himself just months ago. The many weeks of freedom had been very beneficial for his mental health but the lack of work, stress and hours of practice made his body soften, all the food rounding his edges.
He inhales shakily, fingers hesitating, then presses into the softness at his belly. The texture feels so different to what he's been used to. Minho sighs, the sound as heavy as the thoughts clouding his mind. This isn't just a physical change, it's a whole shift in how he sees himself and what he thinks others will see now.
He pulls one of Chan's shirts over his head, relaxing a little at the way it falls around his body. Chan's broader than him, there's no chance he'll fill it out the same as Chan with his shoulders and trained arms. Minho forces himself downstairs, the scent of breakfast making his stomach growl already. He swallows hard and slips into his chair next to Chan who's talking to Seungmin next to him.
Chan's hand finds his thighs and Minho relaxes at the simple but soothing touch. He reaches for some water and leans back in his chair after, smiling as Chan turns to him. “Hey there,” Chan whispers, leaning in for a kiss.
“Hey,” Minho says softly, a genuine smile tugging at his lips as they kiss. “You slept okay?” he asks, gently brushing back his hair, fingers running through the soft curls.
“Yeah, missed you though,” he confesses. Minho said something about not sleeping well lately and not wanting to wake him up so they decided to sleep separately.
“I'm sorry,” Minho whispers, swallowing hard. He's sleeping just fine but the thought of Chan clinging to him, hands wandering over his body isn't as soothing as it usually would be. He'd notice.
“Are you two done being all loving that early in the morning?” Hyunjin teases and Minho redirects his attention to the table.
Chan hands him waffles Felix made and reaches for the orange juice. “You want some?” he asks and his boyfriend nods politely.
“Thank you,” he smiles, as Chan pours him a glass.
“You're welcome, baby,” he smiles brightly.
“Why is Minho hyung getting served breakfast and not me?” Jeongin chimes in teasingly. Minho giggles and takes the first bite. He bites back a moan, tasting the perfectly fluffy waffle.
“Who can blame him? Have you seen how cute Minho looks lately?” Jisung asks and Chan laughs.
“Lately?” he wonders.
“Look at his cheeks,” he tells him and gently pokes Minho's cheek. “They're so squishy, it's so cute,” he giggles and the room erupts in laughter.
The comment was meant in good humor, but scraped against Minho’s insecurities like sandpaper. His smile remains, but his eyes don't meet his friends’. He slowly lowers his fork and reaches for the juice instead, hand stopping mid-air before reaching for the water. Chan notices and frowns softly. “You're okay?” he asks quietly, only for them to hear.
“Yeah, just not really hungry,” he lies with a brave smile. He subconsciously pulls at his shirt, trying to mask the softness that settled around his middle. Minho catches himself searching for signs of judgment in the eyes of his friends whenever they look at him. The mere possibility of them thinking ill of him makes him sick to the core.
Minho’s struggle with his self-image continues long after the breakfast table has been cleared and the last jokes have faded into the background. The comments about his cheeks, meant lightly, linger in his mind like echoes in a hollow room. Minho can't shake off the heavy blanket of insecurity that has settled over him.
He finds himself back in front of the mirror again and swallows hard, meeting his reflection. His thighs look thicker than usually, his arms feel soft and he hesitantly pinches his cheeks. Tears well up in his eyes as he crawls back into bed and curls up beneath the blanket.
A gentle knock at the door startles him and only seconds later Chan's inside. “Hey, kitten,” he says softly. “Want some cuddles?”
“Not really,” he lies, his whole body craving to be held by Channie.
“Oh,” Chan nods and chews on his lower lip. “You're okay?”
“Yeah.” Another lie.
“...Are we okay?” he asks timidly, the sound feeling like a punch to the stomach for Minho.
“Yeah, we're okay,” he whispers and can tell his boyfriend's relaxing. “I just need some space, I'm sorry.”
“It's okay,” Chan assures him. “You know where to find me if you need something.”
“Mhm,” he hums softly and curls up further into himself. “Channie?” he asks, but it's too late as he's already gone. “I love you,” he whispers, hot tears pooling in his eyes.
The room feels too large, too empty as Minho buries himself deeper under the covers, his heart aching with a pain that seems to seep into his bones. The silence left in Chan’s wake is deafening, and Minho is left alone with his swirling thoughts and escalating fears. The words of comfort he longs to hear are absent, replaced by the echoes of his own insecurities that replay in his mind like a broken record.
The day drags on painfully slow. Minho spends hours just lying there, his gaze fixed on the ceiling, his mind replaying every moment that morning when he felt judged, whether it was real or imagined. The light-hearted comments at breakfast, the shared laughter—all of it now feels like subtle digs at his changing appearance.
As the sun begins to set, painting the room with hues of orange and pink, Minho realizes he can't stay hidden forever. He needs to face his fears, his friends, and most importantly, Chan. Pulling himself from the bed, he washes his face, avoiding his reflection in the mirror, not ready to face himself just yet.
Walking into the living room, he finds Chan there, lost in a book. The sight of him, so relaxed and content, stirs a mix of emotions in Minho—envy, longing, and love. Chan looks up, his expression changing instantly from calm to concerned as he takes in Minho’s appearance.
“Hey,” Chan says softly, setting his book aside. “You look like you could use this more than I could,” he gestures to the spot next to him on the couch.
Minho hesitates, but the inviting warmth in Chan’s eyes is too much to resist. He sits beside Chan, maintaining a small gap between them, a physical manifestation of the emotional distance he feels.
Chan respects the space for a moment, then speaks. “Minho, talk to me. Whatever it is, we can figure it out together.”
“I can't,” he shakes his head.
“Why?” Chan asks patiently.
“I…I've changed,” he says, avoiding Chan's confused look.
“Changed?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
Minho’s eyes fill with tears and Chan moves closer, bridging the gap between them. “We all change, Minho. It’s part of life. But those changes don’t define us. They’re just... part of our story. And my story isn’t complete without you in it,” he tries his best, not really knowing the true issue at hand.
The simplicity and truth of Chan’s words wash over Minho, bringing a sense of peace he hasn’t felt in days. He leans into Chan, resting his head on Chan’s shoulder, allowing himself to feel the support and love he’s been denying himself.
“I’m sorry I’ve been pushing you away,” Minho murmurs.
Chan wraps an arm around him, pulling him closer. “It’s okay. I’m here, whenever you’re ready.”
They sit in silence, watching the sun dip below the horizon, the sky a canvas of colors that slowly fade into twilight.
-
On a breezy afternoon, Minho and the others arrive at the television studio, ready for their guest appearance on a popular show that was famous for putting celebrities on the spot with unexpectedly personal questions. The friendship among the group is evident as they joke and laugh, trying to ease their nerves before facing the unpredictable host and live audience.
As the show begins, the host greets them warmly, his booming voice setting a lively tone. The studio is abuzz with excitement, fans cheering as the camera showcases each member's face. The host begins with light, easy questions about recent projects and upcoming plans, allowing the group to settle in and get comfortable with the format.
However, the atmosphere shifts as the host transitions to more personal inquiries, a segment known for revealing responses and creating memorable TV moments. The questions range from their living habits to romantic lives, pushing the boundaries of what they usually shared publicly.
They handle the questions with humor and grace, skillfully navigating the trickier topics. But the tension ratchets up when the host turns the conversation toward a lighter, yet subtly challenging question, “Who among you would you say is the cutest?”
Instantly, the members burst into laughter, playfully pointing at Minho. “Definitely Minho,” Chan declares, his statement echoed by nods and chuckles from the others.”But, I'm biased,” he winks at Minho who flashes him a shy smile.
“Yes, have you seen his cheeks? Absolutely pinchable!” Felix adds, his comment drawing laughter from the audience.
Seungmin chimes in, his tone teasing but affectionate, “And don’t get us started on his soft tummy and those thick thighs, he’s the cutest!”
“Minho's one of the best people to cuddle with,” Jisung agrees.
While the audience find these comments amusing, laughing and clapping at the banter, Minho forces a smile, feeling a familiar sting of insecurity. His cheeks burn, not from flattery, but from embarrassment. Though he knows his members meant no harm, the focus on his physical attributes in such a public setting reignited the deep-seated insecurities about his body image.
The host, sensing a hit with the audience, decides to dig deeper. “Oh, really? That sounds adorable! Minho, how do you feel about being the ‘cutest’ in such a... unique way?”
Minho clears his throat, searching for the right words. “I guess it’s nice to be appreciated,” he replies, his voice slightly strained, hoping to steer the conversation away from his body.
The show continues, with other members discussing their own quirks and stories, but Minho grows quieter. He laughs at the right moments and answers when spoken to, but his responses are brief, his mind replaying the earlier comments.
After the recording ends and the cameras stops rolling, the group retreats to their dressing room. Minho is unusually silent, keeping his distance. Chan notices Minho’s subdued mood and follows him to a corner of the room.
“Hey, are you okay?” Chan asks gently, concern evident in his voice.
Minho sighs, the weight of his emotions visible. “I don’t know, Chan. I just felt really put on the spot out there.”
Chan nods, his expression understanding. “I'm sorry, baby. I shouldn't have drawn attention to you like that. I just worried that if I didn't say my boyfriend's the cutest people would think we'd be fighting.”
“I know, love,” he sighs softly. “I wasn't talking about you.”
“Oh, you meant the others? When they said why you're cute?” he asks and Minho nods slowly. “But they have a point, you know? Your cheeks are so cute and I love how they get so adorably squishy when you smile. I love your thighs, I don't think we have to talk about that. And yeah, your stomach got so soft, it's adorable,” Chan says and Minho blinks at him timidly.
“So…you agree with them?” he asks quietly and Chan glances through the room, distracted by a sudden shout.
He doesn't see the desperation in Minho's eyes as he answers. “Yeah, I mean, you're cute and I love all that about you,” he says, not seeing Minho's face fall, anxiety clouding his features.
“Yeah, I - uhm - I'll be back,” he stammers, quickly walking to the bathroom, barely noticing Chan scolding two of their friends. Shit. His own boyfriend thinks of him like that as well.
Minho rushes to the sanctuary of the bathroom, the cool tile against his skin grounding him as he leans against the sink. His heart races, a chaotic drumbeat echoing the turmoil in his mind. Chan's words replay over and over, each repetition a sharp twist of the knife of insecurity that had already dug deep into his self-esteem.
Inside the small, dimly lit room, Minho stares into the mirror, his eyes tracing the contours of his face and body that Chan had described with such casual affection. But where Chan sees cuteness, Minho sees only flaws magnified by his own harsh judgment and now, seemingly confirmed by the person whose opinion matters most. The disparity between how he views himself and how Chan claims to view him creates nothing but doubt in his heart.
Trying to stifle the rising panic, Minho takes deep breaths, attempting to focus on the reality of the situation rather than the distorted thoughts fueled by his insecurities. He tells himself that Chan loves him, that his words were meant in fondness, not critique. But the warmth that should have accompanied such assurances feels cold and distant now.
After several minutes alone, battling his inner demons, Minho washes his face, the cold water a sharp wake-up call to the emotions he needed to manage before facing the others again. With a final glance at his reflection, he squares his shoulders and steps out, attempting to mask the inner fight with a calm demeanor.
Back in the dressing room, the atmosphere had shifted. The earlier craziness had been replaced by calmness as the members sensed the tension. Chan immediately notices Minho’s return, his expression one of concern mixed with confusion.
“Minho, are you okay?” Chan approaches, reaching out but stopping short of touching, as if unsure whether his comfort is welcome.
Minho nods, not trusting his voice. His mind is still racing, not just from the comments on the show, but now more painfully from Chan’s unintentional confirmation of those.
“I’m sorry if what I said upset you. I didn’t mean it to sound the way it did,” Chan said earnestly, his eyes searching Minho’s for forgiveness.
Minho manages a small smile, appreciating the apology but still feeling the sting. “It’s not just you,” he admits. “It’s hearing it said out loud, on TV, and then... it just feels like everyone sees me that way.”
Chan’s face softens. “Minho, to me, and to all of us, you’re perfect. And if anything we say makes you feel less than amazing, then we need to fix that, because you deserve to feel loved and secure.”
Chan sounds sincere, and Minho feels a warmth begin to break the icy hold of his fear around his heart. “Thanks, Chan. I just need some time to process this, I think.”
“Of course,” Chan agrees, giving him space. “We’re all here for you, whenever you’re ready.”
-
One morning, a few days later, Minho wakes up earlier than usual, his sleep restless and disturbed by thoughts of dissatisfaction with his physical self. The mirror is no kinder at dawn than at any other time, reflecting back a version of himself he still struggles to accept. With a determined breath, he decides to take a more active approach. He knows that Chan has always maintained a consistent workout routine, even during their break, his discipline unwavering.
Minho walks quietly into the kitchen where Chan is already up, probably preparing for his morning jog. The kitchen smells of coffee, and the early light filters in softly through the curtains. Chan, noticing Minho’s early appearance, looks up with a smile that’s both questioning and welcoming.
“Morning,” Minho starts, his voice a little more than a whisper. “Can we talk?”
“Of course, what’s up?” Chan nods, focusing fully on him.
Minho takes a moment, gathering his thoughts. “I’ve been thinking... I want to start working out again. Seriously. And I was wondering if... if you could help me? Maybe go to the gym together?” His voice is hopeful yet tense, the weight of his request more significant than the words might suggest.
Chan’s response is immediate and supportive as always. “Sure, kitten. I’d love to help you out. When do you want to start?”
“Maybe today?” Minho suggests, a bit hastily, driven by a surge of motivation that he fears might dissolve if given too much time to think.
“Today it is,” Chan agrees with a nod, his tone encouraging. “We’ll take it easy, start slow, and find a pace that feels right for you.”
The decision made, Minho feels a brief flicker of relief, quickly followed by anxiety. He’s committed now, no turning back.
By the time they arrive at the gym, Minho’s as excited as nervous. It's been ages since he joined Channie here. Chan leads the way, guiding Minho through the initial stretches and warm-up routines.
They start on some light cardio, and Chan keeps the conversation light, sharing stupid little stories and ensuring Minho’s mind is engaged and his body correctly paced. But as they move on to weight training, Minho, feeling a rush of determination, begins to push himself harder. He adds more weight than Chan advises, his thoughts fixated on erasing the softness that has become his focus of discontent.
“Take it slow, Min. There’s no rush,” Chan tries, noting the strain on Minho’s face.
“I’m okay,” Minho insists, gritting his teeth as he lifts, the muscles in his arms trembling with the effort.
But the desire to see immediate change, to regain some control over his body, drives him to ignore the signs of fatigue that begin to creep up on him. He moves from one exercise to the next, increasing the intensity despite Chan’s growing concerns.
“Minho, that’s enough,” Chan finally steps in firmly after Minho bypasses his recommended weights yet again. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
Minho’s next lift is shaky; his arms quiver violently as he tries to bench press more than he's handled in months. As he struggles to lift, a wave of dizziness washes over him. The room tilts, his vision blurs, and suddenly, the weight feels like it doubles. Chan reacts quickly, stepping in to re-rack the weights, but Minho’s strength gives out. He collapses onto the bench, his breath ragged, his body surrendering to the exhaustion and strain.
Chan is immediately by his side, his voice laced with worry. “Minho! Are you okay? Talk to me, baby.”
Lying on the bench, Minho’s breaths come fast and hard. He closes his eyes, fighting the nausea and the embarrassment that floods through him. “I... I'm sorry,” he manages to say, his voice weak.
“We need to get you checked out,” Chan insists, but Minho shakes his head.
“Just... just give me a minute,” he pleads, needing a moment to gather himself.
Chan nods, visibly concerned, and sits down next to him, offering silent support. Minho’s breathing gradually slows, and the dizziness subsides, leaving behind a sobering realization of his limits.
After a few minutes, Minho sits up, his body still echoing with the aftermath of his collapse. “I’m sorry, Chan. I just wanted to... I don’t know what I wanted.”
Chan’s response is gentle but firm. “You don’t have to push yourself to prove anything, Minho. It’s okay to take time, to build back up at a pace that’s healthy. Let’s just focus on that, okay?” Minho's eyes brim with tears and before he can stop himself a sob ripples through his chest. Chan looks up in shock, surging forward and pulling him into a tight hug. “No, baby, I'm sorry, it's okay. I'm not mad,” he rambles worriedly, holding him tight.
“I'm sorry,” Minho sobs and Chan's not quite sure what he's apologizing for.
“Shh, I got you, Minnie,” he promises soothingly, kissing his hair. “I'm here, baby.”
“I-I lied,” he admits. “I said I'm fine but I'm so not fine,” he tells him through tears.
“What's wrong, hm? You can tell me,” Chan encourages him gently.
“I just… I feel so out of place in my own body. Every comment, every look—it feels like a critique. I thought if I pushed hard enough today, if I could just start looking the way I used to, maybe I’d feel better about myself. Maybe I wouldn’t feel so… so disgusting,” Minho confesses, his voice breaking under the weight of his insecurities.
Chan tightens his embrace, his heart aching at Minho’s words. “Minnie, you’re not disgusting. You’re not any of the negative things you think about yourself. I’m so sorry you’ve been feeling this way, and I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you feel like you need to change anything about yourself. I love you, just the way you are, always.”
They sit in silence for a while, Chan holding Minho as he cries, letting out all the pent-up emotions he had been holding back. Gradually, Minho's sobs subside, and he feels a sense of relief having shared his deepest fears with Chan.
“Thank you,” Minho whispers, feeling a bit lighter. “I guess I’ve been so scared of not meeting everyone’s expectations, including my own, that I’ve been pushing myself too hard.”
Chan nods, helping Minho to stand up. “Let’s take things slow, okay? We’ll work on a plan that feels good for you, no rush or unrealistic goals. And we'll focus on how you feel, not just how you look. Your health, both mental and physical, is what’s most important.”
Minho nods, feeling grateful for Chan’s understanding and support. They decide to leave the gym for the day, focusing instead on recovery and rest.
-
Gradually, Minho’s perception begins to shift. The mirror no longer feels like an enemy, but a tool to observe and appreciate the natural evolution of his body. The softness he once viewed with disdain became a sign of the life he had lived, the meals enjoyed with friends, the nights spent curled up with Chan, safe and loved.
Their journey wasn’t without its setbacks. There were days when old insecurities crept back, whispering unwelcome thoughts into Minho’s mind. But now, armed with new coping strategies and supported by Chan’s unwavering love, Minho faced each challenge with a resilience that grew stronger over time.
Through it all, Minho’s relationship with his body transformed. It became less about what he saw in the mirror and more about what he felt within. With Chan by his side, he rediscovered confidence, not just in his physical self, but in his emotional and mental resilience.
One evening, as they are getting ready for bed, Minho stands in front of the mirror again. This time, however, the reflection he sees is different. Not because his body had changed significantly, but because his perception had.
“I’m okay with this,” Minho says softly, tracing the same curves and edges he used to criticize. Chan, standing behind him, wraps his arms around Minho’s waist and rests his chin on Minho’s shoulder.
“You’re more than okay; you’re amazing,” Chan whispers, kissing Minho’s cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”
Minho leans back into Chan’s embrace, a smile spreading across his face. For the first time in a long time, he believes those words. He was learning to love himself again, and with Chan by his side, he felt unstoppable, ready to face whatever challenges came next, knowing he was enough, exactly as he was. “I think I’m finally starting to feel like myself again,” he murmurs.
Chan squeezes his hand, a silent vow echoing in the simple gesture. “I always see you, Minho. And I always love who I see.”
In the end, Minho realized that the journey to self-acceptance wasn’t about returning to who he was before but about embracing who he was now and who he was becoming. Each day brought new challenges, but also new opportunities to love himself a little more, supported by Chan’s love, which remained constant like the horizon—always present, no matter the changes in the landscape.
MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES
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Gojo punishing his puppies!
satoru gojo, you, and his bff 🩷
nsfw minors dni.
au! where everyone is happy no one dies and theyre happy forever
satoru will always be here for his cute bunny!! even if his cute bunny decides to not be so innocent and turn out a cock hungry whore for his bsf, but thats okay! he can always punish you both. ♡
pairings: best friend! gojo x bimbo! reader , geto x bimbo! reader , geto x gojo
characters are probably ooc for the sake of the fic!! sorry..but hot men!!
Warnings: 18+ ,use of pet names, porn with the tiniest of plot, manhandling, degradation, threesome, oral (fem receiving), p/v sex, anal (masc recieving) pussy slapping, spitting, choking, slightest praise if you squint, virginity loss, hickeys, missionary, backshots. bimbo reader, lmk if i missed anything.
NOT PROOF READ SORRY!!😔
You knocked loudly on Gojo’s apartment door. You tried to clean up your runny nose, you did, and you also tried to stop your eyes from tearing up, but you couldn’t, not after you woke up extra early to get all cute for your boyfriend ex. you were supposed to go to a cute date just you and him, but instead you stood there like an idiot as you watched your own boyfriend make out with a girl outside the cafe you were supposed to meet him at.
you decided to show up early to surprise him. Instead he ended up surprising you. You didn’t bother confronting him. instead, you blocked him on everything. you didn’t know what to do, so you called your best friend.
“toru?” your voice clearly trembling from your crying.
“You okay, y/n? What happened, you sound shaken up-”
“Toru! are you home? need you really bad right now..please.” you didn’t know why you were calling him, it isn’t that serious.
“Yeah. ‘m home. friend’s over though, you sure you still w’na come?” he said, sounding unbothered. it was probably something about your boyfriend
“mhm. be there in 5.” you hung up. you wondered, was his friend cute?
here you were, infront of gojo’s door.
“Hey pretty, come in.” he hugged you slightly before you walked in
you bent over to kick your shoes off at the entrance. you only came to cuddle and let him comfort you like no other.
“ m’ so sorry im coming out of nowhere.” you smiled as you looked up at gojo through your lashes.
he was always taller than you maybe by a couple feet. you always admired his beauty, how his hair was so soft and perfectly layered. his blue eyes, the way he looked at you, a way he never looked at anyone else. his pale skin, and his pink perfect li- what am i thinking. you stopped before you got too carried away.
“dont worry sweetheart, its nothing. come, let me introduce you to suguru.” he took your wrist gently and pull you into the living room.
suguru? you thought. a part of you wished he looked as good as gojo.
“Suguru, this is y/n. Y/n this is Geto. I think its funny how both of my best friends have never met eachother.” he let out a slight laugh. so cute you thought.
“hi geto kun.” you gave him a bright smile. slightly crossing one arm to your other to press your boobs together “its nice to meet you!!” you giggled. he was cute, just like gojo, maybe he could be your next boyfriend.
“no need to call me by my last name, feel free to call me suguru, its nice to meet you too.”
he smiled back at you. he didn’t say much but you didn’t mind. he had a soft voice, higher than gojo, but still a tiny bit deep. it made you feel fuzzy.
“go ‘head and sit with suguru, im getting you a jacket. you need to cover up.” he glanced down at your outfit.
you didnt think you were wearing anything bad. a white crop top, tied around your neck by strings, with a jean miniskirt, leg warmers and of course your white toes.
yes maybe you were showing your breasts to much.. and nipples, and stomach. and too much thighs and legs. but you thought it was fine, a part of you wanted to be seen like this.
“hi suguru kun!! watchu watching?” you skipped over to him, making your boobs jiggle on purpose. you caught him looking.
“i dunno, some action movie. you gonna come sit with me and watch the movie, pretty?” he said tilting his head slightly, smiling, while patting the empty space on his left.
you were surprised at his boldness, maybe it was because gojo wasn’t here you thought. you paid no mind and went along with it.
“mhm, dont mind if i do.” you sat next to him, your plush thighs touching him. he was about to place his hand on your thigh until..
“hey, y/n here. i got u some pants and a hoodie.” he was clearly ticked off, jealous maybe?
“I dont wanna!!” you whined, as you got up. feeling geto’s eyes on your butt.
“mm.. theyre to big anyway toru!! and its so hot.” you hugged him as a way to convince him into letting you keep what you had on.
“atleast put the hoodie on, bunny.”
“why should i, hm?” you gave him a sly smile.
“so you don’t seem like an attention seeking whore to my friend.” he flicked your forehead
“ughh, fine.” you were definitely taking this off later.
gojo stared at you looking annoyed, “weren’t you just crying?”
oh. right, you remembered the whole reason you even came here.
“oh yeah, i forgot. I cought shin kissing some other bitch in-front of the cafe he was supposed to be taking me to, its nothing though, you made me feel better.” you smiled at him before grabbing a beer from the fridge. you chugged it before adding on, “i blocked him on everything though.”
“I dont get why you didn’t do that from the start.” he said flicking your forehead. again.
“ouch!!” you pouted
a few hours went by, you had gotten to know geto a little more, and you were pretty drunk, they both scolded you the whole time but you didnt care, you wanted to forget about your ex.
it was around 10pm when gojo decided to say..
“oh yeah, suguru is staying the night, so if you wanted to stay you might as well.” he placed his hand on your head before getting up from the floor where you were all sitting on from the previous board game.
“ i was .. hiccup .. plan- planning on it anyway.” you glanced over at geto, who was clearly staring at you.
you smiled at him before crawling over to him.
“hey. you’re cute..” you tilted your head and smiled. just looking at him made you feel fuzzy..
“hey. you’re drunk. come on get off before satoru comes back.”
“relaxxx~ hes gone! it’ll.. hiccup … take a while.” you scooted closer to him. lips ghosting over his
“dontcha wanna kiss me?”
“cant, even if i wanted too, pretty. your toru’s girl.”
you pouted at this. you didn’t like his rejection.
you quickly got up and rushed to find gojo, who was in his room getting blankets and pillows.
“toruuu!!!” you barged in
“yes bunny? whats up.”
you went up to him and pushed him onto the bed, half lidded eyes tracing over his features. you cupped his cheek.
“did you tell suguru we’re dating?”
“no, i didn’t, princess. why?” he raised a brow attempting to get you off, cleary failing.
“mm.. he wont let me kiss him. he said he cant.. because im ‘toru’s girl’, mm.” your finger tracing over his lips, legs closing in tightly at his waist.
he doesn’t look to happy, you thought.
“y/n, get off.” he said trying to push you off.
“why are you mad? you jealouss?” you were still on him, not going anywhere. you giggled at this.
“no, stop acting like a slut and just act normal for once.” his voice was stern. and harsh. he never talked to you like this, he was really mad.
you unconsciously started to tear up, maybe it was your drunk self, or your horny self, but you knew how to manipulate gojo into giving you what you want. what is it that i want?
“toru, m’ sorryyy..i love you okay? only you..im sorry for this.” you braced yourself. god you hoped your drunk self wasnt going to ruin everything.
“for wha-” gojo quickly being cut off.
there you were. cupping your best friends cheeks and making out with him, inviting your own tongue into his mouth. you grabbed his hand and placed it onto your waist. pushing him deeper into the mattress, gojo now laying down completely.
you pulled away to catch your breath.
“y/n. what the fuck are you doing?” he was confused but part of him liked this. he could never admit it right now though.
“satoru… im tired of pretending i dont like you. i dont wanna ruin anything but, hiccup..i love you. more than best friends.” you kissed his cheek, the corners of his mouth, his forehead and neck.
“y/n, your just drunk talking, you dont mean it.”
“m’ not. i mean it.”
“you’re a fucking whore.” was the last thing he said before yelling at geto.
“yo suguru, come here!” he manhandled you to a position where he was on top now.
“ya called?” geto came in.
gojo leaned into your ear whispering, “since you wanna be a slut, make a show for suguru, okay?”
“toru, i want you. i need you please..hiccup.. pleaseee.” you had no idea what was making you say this but you guessed it was just the horniness making you talk.
“suguru, your gonna fuck her, okay?” gojo glanced over at geto.
“with pleasure.” geto took his shirt off in one go and untied the strings of his sweats.
“t-toru! wait…”
“hm?”
“i want you..and sugu, to eat me out.” you covered your face with your arms.
“is that so, princess?” gojo grabbed the back of your knees and pressed them against your shoulders.
“hold on tight for me, ‘kay bunny?” he flashed you a smile. “suguru, ya ready?”
“let’s see what our puppy tastes like gojo ♡” suguru said kneeling down next to gojo spreading kisses down your thighs and tummy, putting your panties to the side and bunching your skirt up to your stomach.
“h..hurry.. need it, now, pl-please!” you were getting impatient for their touch. you felt like you were about to explode.
almost immediately gojo lapped at your cunt on command rubbing his finger up and down your hole while occasionally sticking his tongue in while suguru sucked on your puffy clit.
“n-ngh! a..hah! sug..toru! more more more..!” you began to blabble already to fucked out from barely any action.
“taste so fuckin’ good, bunny.” satoru said sticking his digit inside your weeping and needy hole. “look how wet she is, suguru ♡” he said pulling out his finger pulling it up so geto could see.
“mm..she’s so pretty, all wet glistening in her juices.” geto grabbed gojo’s wrist and pulled his middle finger up to his mouth, sucking off all your juices.
gojo blushed at this.
“tou..touch me, touch me mor- hah! ngh yes.yesyesyes!!” your head rolling back into the mattress, and you swore, there was stars on the ceiling.
gojo stuck in 3 digits inside your leaking pink hole. “gotta get you niceee and ready, love. don’t want me and sugu-chan hurting your poor cunt do we now?”
he giggled seeing your flushed and confused expression. gojo moved out of the way leaving geto to eat you like a starved man. “h-hah!! wha.. you? sugu?? cant..take..both cant..at once! nghh, suguru!”
“im sure you can, be a good girl and let us stretch you out, hm?” gojo grabbing geto, who wouldve probably never let go of your pretty cunt, by the hair to get him off and fully undressed.
“but before that, im gonna get suguru to stretch you out okay?” he goes to your side caressing your cheek. “you’d like that wouldn’t you? you just love sugu-chan so much you want him to stretch you out nice and good, hm?”
“t-toru!! cant… i..im a ..” you hesitated. fuck it. “virgin! virgin, im a virgin toru toru… ngh!” you could barely talk with how geto’s fingers curved and scissored across your gummy walls.
he laughed. “pfftt, you act like a slut and you’ve never even gotten any action, you’re such a whore.” gojo wrapped his hand around your neck choking you softly.
“Suguru, you okay with fucking a virgin dumb?” gojo flashed him his fangs as he smiled, softly slapping your cheek.
“i’d be more than happy.” he pushed your legs further onto your shoulders aligning himself at your entrance.
he spit on your cunt and gave it a slap, earning a muffled moan from you as gojo bullied his tongue into your mouth.
“breathe, ‘kay? and relax, im ‘bout to go in.” he slapped the side of your thigh to make sure you heard him.
“mm-mhm!!” you mumbled, gojo finalizing the kiss by biting your bottom lip, kissing your forehead after. “get ready, baby. it wont hurt, if you just welcome him in ♡”
geto slowly pushed in your tight little hole.
“n-ngh! hah..big..big!!!” you looked down, realizing this was the first time you saw geto’s dick. it was thick, you would have to guess it was around 6 inches from what youve seen in those porn videos.
“suguru, don’t go easy on her, dont hold back. its her punishment for being such a whore.” gojo said finding his way into the crook of your neck giving you hickeys.
“sorry, princess.. hold your breathe for a sec yea?”
you were confused at suguru’s request, but you complied too drunk to understand. and suddenly-
plap!!!
“F-FUUUCK!!. ngh..ya….hah.. ow, sugu.. too much.. too-t- big!!” you struggled against the two boy’s hold on you.
suguru began to slip in out of you, occasionally stopping to bottom out all his length inside your cunt.
“so! soo good. more!! faster sugu please!~” crossing your eyes, your whole body moving up and down from his thrusts.
“can..feel you! in my tum..my!!..mm” you were cock drunk.
“toru..touch..touch me!!” you looked at him with heart filled eyes, you wanted him to touch you too.
“such a brat. at least say please, ya dog. so nasty and needy.” you slapped your cheek making you shamefully moan. “knew you’d like that, fuckin’ whore.” he slapped your pussy occasionally rubbing your clit.
“yes!! yes so good! toru, sugu! im..im..close closecloseclose..!!” you lolled your tongue out, eyes teary, pools of drool coming down your tongue.
“ya on..ngh..the pill, doll?” suguru said while getting sloppier with his thrusts.
“yeah, she is.” gojo speaking for you, being too fucked out to respond.
“can i c-come..inside, satoru?” geto said glancing over at gojo, him taking notice of geto’s sweaty trembling body knowing he was about to burst.
“go for it, didn’t know ya was a fuckin’ dirty slut just like y/n.” gojo walked over behind geto, biting on his ear lobe lovingly. teasingly.
“fu..fuckk….cant!! cant hold..” geto gave his last thrusts, shooting warm ropes in your cunt.
“hhaa!! so warmm.. ngh..!! good..”
“creamin’ all over suguru’s cock huh, princess? just like the fucking slut you are.”
gojo pushed geto down, making him shift his weight on your tiny body, bending him over making sure geto was still inside you.
“sat-toru? what the fuck.. hey..he-ngh!~ fuck..” geto protested, but getting interrupted by gojo spitting down his ass, wetting his hole.
“punishment for being cock-whores, sugu-chan and y/n ♡”. gojo sticked two fingers inside geto’s warm unopened hole.
“sugu…again..please! so ..horny.” you said cupping his cheeks, lips meeting. eventually sloppily making out as geto started to begin his slow thrust.
you felt his dick twitch as he moaned in your mouth possibly from gojo’s fingers.
“sato…ruu! slow down, cant..focus!! ngh.” geto too overstimulated to concentrate on your pleasure.
“lemme take over then, ‘kay?” he kissed geto down his spine, slowly pushing in the pink tip of his cock inside geto.
“f-fuck!! i..nghhh!!” geto trembled eyes never leaving yours. never breaking eye contact.
gojo wasnt even all the way in when he started to forcefully thrust into geto’s poor hole, making geto move harsher inside you.
“fuckk, so tight yeah baby?” gojo grabbed geto’s hips getting better grip as he slammed into him, projecting his strength to geto, thrusting into your poor overstimulated hole.
“slow..slow down!! suguu…cant take!! it..” you felt like you were going to break having twice the weight on your legs now. barely remembering how to breathe and talk.
“toru!! so ..good~ ahh.. wait!! slow..down!! y/n cant take it..” geto trying to get up forgetting he was leaning half his weight onto you, but immediately being shoved back down by gojo.
“mmm!! m sorry prin-cess!” he shoved his face into your neck moaning into it. you felt his drool slip down.
“..go—ood!! good….mytummy! cant..its com…ing!!”
“hah…look! the bitch can’t even fuckin’ talk no more, she’s so fucked out.” gojo laughed at you.
“toru, just..go sl-ah!!-lower, pl..please!!” geto cried out, as his body was holding on tightly to you.
“ouch..sugu!! too tight!!” you took notice on his grip on you, thinking he was about to break your bones.
you all were clearly about to explode, on the edge of cumming. you couldn’t take anymore.
“come on suguru! just cus im fucking you dont mean you can forget all about our girl.” he gave a harsh slap to geto’s ass making him remember to keep thrusting hard into your poor cunt.
“nyaa!! cummin…d-daddy, toru!!!” how cute. gojo thought hearing you say that, already trained to say his name while cumming despite him not even laying a finger on you.
“me ..too. ‘m cumming satoru!” geto put his hands on both sides of you getting up slightly to give you room.
“fuckk…on the count of three yea? ya slut’s gonna come for me, ‘kay?” gojo fastening his thrusts, also making geto unconsciously move his hips into your pussy.
“one…”
“two…”
“nghhh!!! toru, suguru!!!” you squirted all over geto’s dick and stomach.
“fu..ck. toruuu..y/n.” geto moaned softly as his body slowly gave up, shooting his last load into your cunt.
“atta’ girlll, squirt fa’ sugu-chan.. so proud of you suguru.” he planted kissed down geto’s spine and back, also cumming in geto’s little abused hole.
gojo pulled out, geto slowly following behind.
you curled into a ball, trying to regain your regular breathing rhythm, about to pass out.
“we’re not done yet, puppies. ♡” gojo said as he wiped the sweat off his forehead, white hair sticking to his forehead.
“we’re going all night.” he smirked.
i hope u guys liked it!! lmk if u want pt. 2 :33 this was my first time hehe im sorry if its bad🥲
#i hope you like it#smut#jjk x reader#jjk gojo#jjk#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo smut#geto smut#geto x reader#geto x reader smut#gojo x reader#gojo x reader smut#jjk x you#gojo x geto#gojo x female reader#geto x female reader#first fic#minors dni
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