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voxsmistress · 3 days

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Mama Didn't Raise No Bimbo - Part Six

Now this went a completely different way to how I originally planned but I hope you like it - no Vee's in it but we do meet dear old Alastor who has a few things he would like to get off his chest! Plus you get to see why Y/n isn't just a regular sinner but a Demon in her own right!

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten

Stumbling up the flight of stairs to your door you were in a bit of a daze. Catching sight of a few cameras in the corner of the hallway you huff. Letting yourself into your flat you slam the door behind you.

Where the fuck was that bottle of whiskey?

What the fuck was that horrible buzzing noise? Growling under your breath you reach over to your night stand, knocking over the empty bottle of whiskey that you had decided to finish off last night to grab your phone which was making an unholy racket.

The fuck is someone phoning you at this ungodly hour for?

“Hello?” croaking into the phone you quickly clear it.

“Ah good morning my dear, how did you sleep?” The staticky voice on the other end could only belong to one Demon. Alastor. Groaning into your pillow you just knew you weren’t going to be able to go back to bed and sleep off this hangover.

“Alastor? It’s way too early for small talk – what do you want?” you grumble into the phone, rubbing your sore eyes.

“Delightful as always dear Y/n, we need to talk” at the change of tone in that last word all sleepiness left you.

“Ah okay, when would you like to meet?” his answering chuckle made a small twinge of fear run through your body.

“Now if you don’t mind, I suggest you get yourself up and ready I shall be waiting”. Before you could say anything else you were met with the cut off tone. He always was a cheery fellow in the morning. Makes you sick!

Dragging yourself up out of your warm bed you quickly threw yourself into the shower getting ready at the speed of light. Running back into your bedroom you style your hair up in a ponytail and do your usual make up consisting of eyeliner, mascara, and a bit of gloss. Eyeing your clothes you choose a pair of flared jeans, a tight black tank top, leather jacket and matching boots.

On the way out the door you make sure you have your phone, purse and keys before locking the door and making your way to the Hazbin Hotel where Alastor had his radio tower now.

Wishing the journey would take longer than it did you made it to the Hotel in record time, pushing open the front doors you could see no one was in the foyer – why would they as most of the population was only just getting up at this time. Following the familiar path to the radio station you come to the red door. Deep breath in and out you raise your hand and knock firmly.

“Come in” even through the door you could hear the Radio Demon clearly. Opening the door, you poke your head round to see him sat in his usual chair, microphone staff beside him as his fingers were clasped together underneath his chin. “Ah y/n kind of you to make it here so quickly on such short notice” his smile grows. His fingers motion to the other seat across from him. Crossing the short distance to the chair you couldn’t help but feel like you did when you were human and sent to the principals office.

Once you were settled in the chair, Alastor stood from his own. “I have come across a bit of information dearest y/n, a horrible rumour which has displeased me greatly and I believe we need to discuss it to make sure it is not true” throwing his hands around as he speaks, you keep an eye on his staff.

“Which is?”

“That you are now working with those deplorable Vee’s” those red eyes of his glared down, his yellow teeth fully on display with that smile of his. Gulping down the nerves you straighten your back.

“I am not working with the Vee’s, I am collaborating with Velvette where I am showing off her clothes and she is allowing me to sing at her Catwalk to help raise my profile as a singer” I reply to the Radio Demon.

“Ah then it seems the rumours are true. Shame. A real shame.” You had a horrible feeling you were about to be killed and eaten by the Radio Demon. You tried your hardest to control the flinch your body made when Alastor suddenly leaned forwards in front of you and static filled the room.

“Then it seems my dear our time as business partners has now come to an unfortunate end”, he stands back up fully his shadow encasing you, filling your bones with shivers.

“What because I am working with Velvette?” You questioned, standing from your own chair so to make a quick getaway if he decided to start attacking.

“Yes. It’s a conflict of interest you see my dear, it’s just not good business to work with people who are not your allies”, shocked you let out a choked laugh.

“Just because I am working with Velvette does not mean I am not your ally or friend Alastor; you and Vox may have this weird dick swinging contest going on between you but trust me when I say I am staying well out of that! I wouldn’t betray you!” You fold your arms and glare at him.

“Hmm” his smile tightens, eyes narrowing at you. “Then perhaps for the time being, my dear, we call a halt on our business until you see the true side of those Vee’s”.

“The true side? Alastor I am not daft enough to think they want to be best buddies with me. I know there is an ulterior motive behind their actions”, you reasoned with him, nearly adding that he was hypocrite because he was doing exactly the same thing as they are. But you valued your undead life so you kept that little titbit to yourself.

“As long as you realise that young Y/n, I would hate to see you fall under their power” his gaze softened a little bit making it easier for you to breath. Hopefully he wasn’t contemplating killing you and eating your liver now.

“I do Alastor, but I understand why you’d like to halt our business. If that is all for now, I do have another appointment to head to”, you point to the door, nodding his head he moves towards it, opening it wide for you.

“Be careful y/n,” a wide smile directed at you as you pass him, saying goodbye you carry on down the stairs and through the hotel. What a weird conversation. But less stress. You had worried about working with both Velvette and Alastor – he was right in a way that it was a conflict of interest. At least this way you could focus on one – or three – Overlords at a time.

Travelling through Pentagram City you go over the conversation with Alastor in your head again and again. You didn’t think that he was still angry with you, after you had made it clear you weren’t going to go behind his back. Not that you would or could anyway you knew nothing about the Radio Demon anyway, and the things you did know wouldn’t do a lick of good to any one unless they wanted to know how Alastor liked his coffee.

Turning a corner you didn’t realise you had been followed the last few blocks until you were suddenly slammed up against a building by your throat. The FUCK?! Today was just not your day. Snarling at the shark-like sinner that was holding you, a knife was pushed against your neck. Feeling a pinch you just knew the bastard had cut you. Two other sinners stood behind him, laughing at you struggling to pull the idiot’s hand off your throat.

“Look guys. I ain’t interested in what you are selling and if you don’t let me go you are going to really fucking regret it. That I can promise you!” You choke out, clawing at the hand holding your throat. It was definitely going to bruise.

Sniggering at your comment one of the other sinners started running their hands up and down your body, groping your boobs and legs. Sucking in a large breath you waited until they attempted to shove their disgusting paws down your pants. Fuck no. Using all the breath you had you let loose a scream. Unfortunately for them, it wasn’t just a standard scream. Letting go of you they groaned clutching their ears. Raising your pitch, you watched blood start to stream from between their fingers, from their noses and then their eyes. At their screams and begging you stop for a moment. Smirking at their cries and begging.

“Can you honestly tell me you’d have let me go without touching me if I begged like you now?” You ask, kneeling in front of the ‘leader’, his face was covered in his own blood which dripped onto the floor. “No answer? Say’s more than your words ever could”, you snarl. Breathing in deeply you watch as fear enter their eyes before you let out the highest pitched scream which you only reserved for special times. Like now.

Three heads all explode, one after the other. The only mishap was you were so very close to the splash zone. Groaning to yourself you wipe your cheek with your hand, covered in warm blood you grumble. Gross. Pulling out a pack of tissues from your dropped purse you quickly scrub where you saw had landed but there was no way of getting rid of all of it … biting your lip you decide to carry on walking to the Vee Tower. You did after all have an appointment.

taglist: @tasha-1994 @azullynxx @reath-solia @leathesimp @klory22

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azzibuckets · 5 hours

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Paper Rings [Part 1 | Paige Bueckers]

Paige Bueckers x fem!reader

summary: very angsty friends to enemies to lovers told through flashbacks & current day

a/n: this is my very first fic + i’m still pretty unfamiliar with how to use tumblr so pls forgive me in advance 😭 but lmk what you think!

warnings: drinking, angst, paige as a player

word count: 1.9k

part 2

FLASHBACK: 1 YEAR & 1 MONTH AGO

It was the night of the Big East championship game, and the entire UConn women’s basketball team was piled into Paige and Azzi’s apartment to celebrate with drinks. At first, you’d been hesitant to come, as you would be the only non-player there. Which usually wouldn’t be a problem, but since it was a celebration for something as special as a tournament win, you wanted to let the team have their moment. But Paige insisted, saying that you were basically one of them at this point, and that everyone loved you and would want you there.

So here you were, sandwiched between Paige and KK on the sofa. There were so many people squeezed onto the sofa, though, that you were basically half in Paige’s lap. She didn’t seem to mind though - one hand was holding a red solo cup filled with dirty Shirley while the other was firmly wrapped around your waist, holding you in place next to her. Not a typical look for best friends, but both of you attributed this intimate position to physical touch being both of your main love languages.

Paige’s fingers were absentmindedly brushing up and down your hip, alternating between playing with the fray at the end of your shirt and scratching your hip. You tried not to think too much of it. Paige was constantly moving, and she always needed something to play with or else she’d get bored and distracted. She definitely wasn’t touching you because she had feelings for you. Paige made it clear that she wasn’t interested in anyone romantically, with how quickly she moved from woman to woman. But that was how she chose to live her love life, and you respected that! And didn’t care….at all.

KK suddenly lurched up from next to you. “Ayoooo, we should play spin the bottle,” she crowed, as if this was the best idea she’d ever come across.

“Nah, girl, I’m good,” Nika teased, shaking her head at KK’s antics. “Geno said he wants us to be close, but I don’t think he meant that close.”

The rest of the team hooted in laughter. KK pouted. “Well, Azzi just texted the guys’ team to come, and they’ll be here soon. That way I don’t have to kiss any of y’all’s nasty lips.”

At that, Paige sat up a little bit straighter, her grip around my waist tightening. “Ain’t no one playing spin the bottle with the guys. Especially Y/N.”

“Why, Paige? Jealous?” Ice teased. Ice always gave you a hard time about Paige, wiggling her eyebrows at you every time you walked Paige to practice or dropped off food for her during their recovery sessions. You suspected that she was onto you, but you always shrugged off her teasing in order to seem nonchalant.

Paige rolled her eyes, although her grip on you didn’t loosen. “Nah, bro. They’re just weird. They don’t know Y/N like that. She’d be uncomfy.”

You tugged on one of her Dutch braids. You loved whenever she put her hair into two full braids. She looked so cute. Although you’d never tell her that. “What if I wanna play, hmm?” You were testing Paige’s limits, and you knew it. And as much as you wanted to chalk it up to her being jealous, you knew she was probably just being a protective friend.

Paige shook her head. “It’s such a middle school game, Y/N. You don’t wanna do that.” With those words, you felt a surge of drunken defiance rise in your chest. Paige was bossing you around, as if she knew what was best for you. But you refused to be seen as the innocent and meek type. And now you wanted to play. Because if you couldn’t have Paige, you weren’t gonna let her limit you from having someone else.

You raised your chin. “No, I think I’m gonna,” you declared.

Paige’s eyes flashed. There was a hint of surprise in the way she leaned back and studied you. “Okay,” she responded coolly. “Whatever. Do what you want - Imma top up.” She briskly slid the part of me on her thigh off, and got up, disappearing into the kitchen.

Soon, the guys piled in, along with some of their buddies that weren’t on the basketball team. You all agreed to do a mix of spin the bottle or truth or dare. It was either answer the question, or kiss. Except those who were players insisted that teammates were off limit. To be honest, you didn’t wanna play. You, like Paige, thought the game was childish. And more importantly, the only person in the room, or frankly anywhere in the world, whose lips you wanted to kiss was Paige. But Paige didn’t want you, and you had to move on.

Paige returned with a full cup, this time of beer, just in time for the game to start. A couple of the girls had gotten up to sit with the guys on the floor, so there was more room on the sofa now, meaning that Paige and you were no longer touching. Instead, there was a sizable gap between the two of you. The lack of her warmth was upsetting to you, and another reminder that Paige was only touching you because of how crowded the sofa was. Not because she craved your touch the same way you craved hers.

Just your luck, the bottle landed on you the first spin. You vaguely recognized the guy who spun it as one of the players on the basketball team. He had dirty blonde hair and a cocky smile. The top buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, and he had a rumpled look about him that would be messily attractive if it weren’t for the fact that you had almost zero interest in guys.

“Which guy on my team looks like he’d be the best in bed?” The guy’s wildly inappropriate question barely registered before Paige leaned forward, sliding her hand protectively over your knee.

“That’s a fucked up question,” she snapped. Her eyebrows were furrowed in that way that happens when she’s really angry, and her cheeks were flushed, likely from the alcohol. Tipsy Paige meant a Paige with much more intense emotions, and you knew now that she would be even more unashamed now than she is sober, which says a lot considering how she’s already pretty free willed sober. “Don’t be an ass. Give her a decent question so she’s not forced to kiss you.” Paige snarled.

The guy’s eyebrows shot up. “Chill out, P. It’s just a game,” he laughed arrogantly.

“Yeah, P.” The words, laced with malice, were out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, and you wanted to die as soon as they came out. Paige looked like a puppy who was just kicked, confusion and embarrassment in her eyes. Shame rose in your throat like bile - Paige was just trying to protect you from a creepy guy, a guy who you didn’t even want to kiss, and you were taking this random stranger’s side. In front of all these people.

But words kept piling out of your mouth, even though you didn’t mean it. “Stop babying me,” you hissed. This time only Pauge could hear, but you internally kicked myself again for the harshness of your words. It was the alcohol in you, running hot through your veins, exacerbating all the bitterness and jealousy you’ve been feeling towards Paige for so long. You wanted to get back at her…but for what? It wasn’t her fault she didn’t love you back.

You were thrusted back to reality when you realized everyone was staring at you, waiting for you to make a move. It was an almost out of body experience, in the most terrible and awful way possible, watching yourself move like a robot to where the guy was sitting. You kneeled down, planted a kiss on his lips to the cheering of all the people around you, then got back and returned to your seat on the sofa.

And for the rest of the night, Paige didn’t speak to you.

—————————-

“I can’t find them.” You were digging through your purse, trying to find your keys. Paige was standing next to you, her face stone hard.

You were so drunk. After the whole kiss incident, you’d started going wild with the drinks, putting back shots as if your life depended on it. The alcohol made you feel numb, softening the ache you felt whenever you thought back to earlier that night when you had hurt Paige, embarrased her in front of all those people. You felt like the worst person in the world, and the more you drank, the more that guilt disappeared.

And now you were drunk out of your mind. You’d expected Paige to ignore you completely after, and she had, until the celebrations died down and you had to go home. You had walked to the apartment because your dorm was only 10 minutes away, and now with how you couldn’t even walk without staggering, someone needed to escort you back.

You hated how good Paige was. How she immediately got up without hesitation when Nika requested for someone more sober to walk you home. You knew she was angry and hurt, yet like always, she looked out for you first.

“Paige, I can’t find them,” you pouted. Paige exhaled through her nose and grabbed the purse from you, sifting through it before she found your keys, tucked into one of the side pockets. Opening the door, she rested her hand on the small of your back to guide you inside.

Once inside, you grabbed Paige’s hand, tugging her into your room and flopping on the bed. She stood there, still and silently watching you. She was unamused, and rightly so.

“Are you mad?” You giggled, sitting up to poke her in the stomach. When she stared back at you, still in silence, you stopped laughing. Sobering up a bit, you grabbed her hand and pulled her closer. “I’m really sorry,” you said quietly. “I don’t know why I did that earlier.” She was between your legs now. You weren’t thinking straight, your mind a muddled mess, and so you wrapped your calves around her, pulling her in until there was no space between you two. She looked down at you, bringing her hand to lightly touch your jaw.

You both stayed there for a moment, the tip of her finger running back and forth along your jaw. Your eyelids fluttered closed. Paige’s touch was so gentle, and you wanted to lean into it and stay in it forever. You didn’t understand why she was being so kind to you when you had been so cruel to her earlier, especially on a night as important as this.

“I’m sorry. For ruining tonight,” you told her, shifting to lean your forehead against her toned stomach.

“You didn’t ruin anything. But I was trying to look out for you,” she said quietly from above you. Paige. A golden heart, and a reminder of why you didn’t deserve her.

“But you kiss a lot of people. Why do you have an issue when I do it?”

Paige’s hand stuttered. “You should really get some rest,” she said gently instead of answering your question. She backed up, looking at me closely before shutting the light off. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Good night, Y/N.”

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #wbb #enemies to lovers #friends to lovers #huskies #uconn #wcbb

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heytheredelulu · 14 hours

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I Gotta Take This.

Bucky Barnes x Female Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 1k

ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+

C/W: Language, Bucky sends a dickpic, reference to his beautiful cock 😏, implied sex

It was becoming increasingly more difficult to pay attention to the mission briefing the longer Bucky Barnes continued to undress you with his stupid, blue eyes from across the room.

‘Stop staring at me, weirdo.’ You text him from beneath the table, turning your attention back to Steve and Tony before either of the men standing and addressing the room had the opportunity to catch you on your phone.

You weren’t surprised when the device buzzed against your thigh no more than thirty seconds later.

‘It’s hard not to stare when I keep imagining you naked’

Motherfucker.

‘Keep it in your pants, Barnes.’ You text back quickly, shifting in your seat to keep your phone obscured. You glance back up at him to where he sits across the long table in front you, his head bowed slightly as he reads the message, a devilish smirk beginning to stretch across his face.

Oh goddamnit, you know that look.

Your eyes flit back down to your lap in anticipation just as the notification pops up for a new message. You open it and immediately fumble, nearly dropping your phone as you quickly try to close out of the photo he’d just sent you of his hand wrapped around his thick and angry cock. You were so focused on trying to ensure Nat and Clint seated opposite you hadn’t seen the picture that you hadn’t realized how indiscreet you were being until Steve cleared his throat.

“Everything okay over there?” He asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing his muscular arms over his chest.

“Ye- Yeah. Yeah. Fine.” You reply, your voice an octave higher than normal and you notice Bucky stifling a laugh from across the table.

“Right, let’s refocus then.” Steve says sternly, turning back to the screen behind him. As soon as the super soldier’s back is to you, you whip your phone back out, typing frantically.

‘What the hell is wrong with you!? Do you just keep dick pics on deck for your convenience?’

You watch Bucky grin as he leans back in his seat, fingers moving swiftly across his screen, before slowly raising his head back up to pin you under his intense gaze as your phone vibrates yet again.

‘Empty conference room. Down the hall. Make an excuse.’

You blink a few times, staring at the message in disbelief.

He’s out of his mind. There’s no way you’re going to-

‘Now.’

This man would be the death of you.

You scoot your chair back and stand up, drawing the attention of every Avenger in the room.

“I’m so sorry but I have to take this phone call.” You lie, avoiding their stares by looking back and forth between the door and the phone in your hand to feign urgency.

Tony scoffs. “Now? It can’t wait?” He asks with clear annoyance in his tone.

You shake your head, walking backwards towards the door. “It can’t. It’s important. I have to take this.” You repeat, pretending to pick up the call while you tilt your head to pin the phone between your ear and shoulder. “Hello?” You ask absolutely no one as you slip out the door and into the hallway.

Bucky manages a solid two minutes of impatience, leaned forward in his seat and bouncing his leg while the team deliberates on if they should wait for you to return or continue without you, before he stretches, groaning dramatically.

“Well, seems like she’s gonna be a while.” He states, standing up and rolling his shoulders. “I’m gonna go take a leak.”

“The old man can’t hold his bladder?” Tony mocks, tipping back in his seat and kicking his feet up on the table. Steve rolls his eyes and shakes his head, walking over and shoving Tony’s feet back onto the floor. “Keep your feet off the table.” He grumbles, taking a seat in the empty chair next to him.

“I’m sorry, do you have a problem with me kicking my feet up on the table I paid for?” He asks sarcastically. Steve doesn’t reply, only mumbling under his breath as he leans forward on his elbows.

“We should get back to the meeting.” Bruce suggests, setting his tablet down and removing his glasses. “We still have a lot to cover.”

“We can wait, she’s probably finishing up her phone call by now and it doesn’t take but a minute for Bucky to run to the bathroom.” Steve responds, drumming his fingers against the table top.

Natasha stifles a laugh and Clint elbows her hard in the side. “Ow! Seriously?” She asks, turning to glare at him.

Steve raises his eyebrow. “What’s funny?”

Natasha shrugs. “I’m just thinking they’re both probably going to be gone for a while.”

Tony leans his head back, rolling his eyes and letting out a groan and Steve looks between him and Natasha before frowning. “No, they should be back any minute.” He says, his expression growing puzzled.

Natasha can’t hold back her laughter any longer and Clint slumps forward, dropping his forehead to rest on the table. “Captain clueless over here.” He mumbles against the wood.

“Okay, what am I missing?” Steve asks, growing frustrated.

“I’m pretty sure they’re fucking.” Natasha replies, struggling to keep a straight face at Steve’s naivety.

His eyes widen and he sits upright in his seat. “Language!” He stammers, looking at her in disbelief. “And that’s just- that’s definitely not-“

“It definitely is.” Clint interjects, lifting his head and tossing his arms up. “I mean, come on. It wasn’t even subtle.”

“What? No, she said she was taking a phone call and he said-“ Steve begins to argue but Natasha’s laughter causes him to trail off as he furrows his brows and crosses his arms.

“I got this.” Tony says, tilting his head up towards the ceiling. “J.A.R.V.I.S.?” He asks aloud.

“Yes Mr. Stark?”

“Can you do a sweep of our empty offices?”

“Just a moment.”

Tony gestures his hand vaguely as he looks at Steve with his eyebrows raised.

“Movement detected in conference room B.”

Tony smirks, giving Steve a smug expression before addressing J.A.R.V.I.S. again.

“Let me guess, Y/N and Barnes?”

“That would be correct, sir.”

A/N: Yeah, idk. This is just popped into my head and I needed to bring it to life. I typed it up in a whole five minutes so I apologize for any and all mistakes. 🫣

Taglist (Taglist is open):

@badbunnybabygirl01 @suz7days @truthfulliarr @lilacka @writtingrose @samsgoddess @loveisallyouneed1125 @vicmc624 @millercontracting @wildernessflora @mydorkyboys @blackhawkfanatic @honestlywork @ladyvenera @cavity-exe @ihavetwoholesforareason @km-ffluv @shortnloud @mrs-katelyn-barnes @somnorvos @22rhianna2006 @fanfictionreaderfan @misshale21 @angelbaby99 @deans-spinster-witch @kezibear @acornacreacure @wintrsoldrluvr @terry2227

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #bucky barnes drabble

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nakunakunomi · 3 days

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this is part of my drabble collection: The answer is love - Masterlist

Characters: Suguru Geto x GN reader Prompt: "why are you talking like we'll never see each other again?" Warnings: This one is a little sad / angsty [a/n]: I love Suguru so much, but I always struggle writing happy stuff for him. I have a more lighthearted thing coming up very soon though, but until then... enjoy <3

He had changed. Unmistakably so. The bags under his eyes, a trait you had always thought attractive, adding to his dark and mysterious charms, had become deeper, darker, a sign of constant exhaustion, of sleep forever lost, impossible to ever catch back up on.

He rarely smiled anymore, and when he did, it never reached his tired eyes anymore. It was just a way to pacify you, to make sure you didn’t insist a fourth time when you asked if he was really really doing okay. You knew he was lying still, but it was clear he didn’t want to talk about it. That he couldn’t really talk about it.

Until today; he was about to leave for a mission, and you had wanted to go out for dinner together, a little distraction from all the bleakness and losses you had encountered the past few weeks. There was nothing you could do to truly fight the helplessness, feeling yourself buckle under the weight of the negative emotions, barely keeping your own head above water, how were you supposed to help your friend as well?

But you could provide a little distraction, in the form of comforting dishes on the table for you to share. Silent comfort, except for the noises of your cutlery, and chopsticks accidentally bumping into each other as you both reach for a specific dumpling. A soft snicker. But no conversation. It was too hard, too much, and at the moment just unnecessary, cause there weren’t enough words in the world to translate your feelings into.

When the dishes were empty and you were preparing to say your goodbyes, he caught you off guard.

“Thank you for all you’ve done for me”

You blinked in surprise. Those were not the words you had expected him to say. You chuckled nervously, wondering why he suddenly said something like that. It sounded ominous, almost, like a final goodbye.

"Why are you talking like we'll never see each other again?”

He only smiled in response. The first genuine smile you had seen him do in weeks and yet, it didn’t quite feel happy. It felt almost guilty. It reached his eyes, but his eyes spelled compassion, or even…pity?

“Goodbye, y/n”

No ‘I’ll see you later, or after this mission’, no ‘wish me luck’. Just…goodbye.

You could only stand there silently as he turned around, reaching up a hand to give you a final wave, his back turned to you. While your chest tightened, you realized that your gut feeling was probably right, and this would have been the last time.

#geto x reader #suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk geto #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #reader insert #drabble #short #angst #2nd person pov #GN reader #romance

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loserlvrss · 1 day

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꒰ 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐃 ꒱ 박성호

summary : your boyfriend was beginning to get distant, and you didn't know why

genre : angst, fluff at the end, sungho x afab!reader tws : language, angst, mentions of drinking and neglect author notes : for my requestor, this is our man don't play word count : 2.3k

at first it wasn’t anything big. really no big deal at all. and if you weren’t an overthinker by nature, you wouldn’t have believed anything was wrong.

it started out with simple no’s; denies of affection here and there, progressing into i’m tired’s, and ending with a text.

texts which stated that he would no longer be coming over after practice — that he’s sorry he missed your date because of work, he’s too tired to talk to you after doing promotions all day, he didn’t want to be a bother because he couldn’t give you what you wanted.

but you respected him. you respected him so much you didn’t think the flags were tinted at all. however, you also respected yourself too — knowing there’s only so many lies you’re able to believe — so, that’s where your dilemma lied: how much more could you take? how far were you willing to let it go?

you never would have imagined weighing the pro’s to the con’s, trying to decide if it was good enough to not debate a full-on breakup. you were sick to your stomach, a headache booming against your skull.

it was killing you slowly; as if you were going down in quicksand — which was all but quick.

you wanted a clear answer from him, but to get that you needed clear questions. you needed clear conversation, which would be easier if he didn’t reply to your text hours after you’d send them.

apologies were sounding more like i love you than the actual statement. but, you did love him. you loved him so much you could burst at the seams. you loved him so much you felt him flowing in your veins. he infiltrated your dreams, your heart, your every last thought; and maybe that’s why you hurt so damn much right now.

your eyes were puffy and red, you barely recognized the person you had let yourself become for him. someone complacent. someone so love-drunk you found yourself drinking just to feel something — anything at all.

another shot, and another shot to the heart.

you found yourself, in this state of blurriness, reminiscing the only memories that made you happy anymore: the old park sungho, the boyfriend you had fallen in love with some time ago. you felt a slurred-smile plaster your lips, leaning back against the couch cushion with the shot glass still in your hand. your head fell against the cushion, eyes drifting closed.

you debated the other night if staying in love with him would be harder than letting it wither out like a tulip; getting planted in the ground during fall, dormant all winter, just to bloom for a couple of weeks, then die.

you thought maybe heartbreak would be better than letting this relationship — that felt more like a situationship — cremate itself.

you've been in convenience relationships before; you've been with a man just because you didn't want to be alone, even if he only ever wanted to see you at night. its said loneliness is the most deadly drug. and now, your so-called boyfriend isn't making you feel any different than someone of superficial feelings; to look good on the outside, when you felt rotten on the inside.

you felt unwanted, and that's taken you weeks to admit. you thought you could lie to yourself better than that. you thought you could convince yourself that this is what love feels like, that this a give before the take.

it was a sacrifice you made, but it was never something you had mentally prepared for, simply because you never thought he'd become someone not quite like a stranger but not like an unconditional-lover either.

you honestly didn't know what to call it anymore.

you hated being so unsure, fighting to win love from someone who could say the word so easily. he had your heart in his hands, and you didn't know if him dropping it or putting it back in your chest would hurt more. you hated yourself for being the only reason you're still able to call him your boyfriend, because has he ever really felt like yours in the past couple weeks?

you've sat on his backburner for some time, just waiting for him to come around and stir the pot. you felt lucky, yet appalled to be in the situation you were in, because at least you got to love him — even if it was only once in a blue moon — shouldn't you feel grateful for that? the shooting stars you wished upon only worked so much in your favor before you thought that maybe they couldn't hear you anymore.

if this was meant to die, why was it taking so long? after all, you were only getting older.

maybe you just loved him too much to stay in love, knowing that maybe it was time to throw up the white flags. he knew everything about you, but even strangers can find out fine-details about someone's life.

sometimes you just wished he'd put you first, only if just once. that would be enough, wouldn’t it?

however, you couldn't blame him. he was being the man he thought he needed to be, the one he thought he wanted to be. maybe if you hadn't opened up, loved him in a way you knew he couldn't love you back, you wouldn't have to argue with yourself. you wouldn't have stayed up all night waiting for the familiar chime on your keypad, you wouldn't be in the stage of denial, pretending that it was just a fluke and would pass. you wouldn't pretend that you could breathe when he was around.

you gave him the key to your heart, but you couldn't make him stay. you couldn't make him want you like you wanted to be wanted.

he was the man of your dreams, everything you've ever wanted... what an oh-so-lonely view.

maybe the picture you painted inside your head was enough. maybe the person who held you in your dreams was enough. maybe if you tried harder he would think you were enough. maybe if you smiled harder it would hold to your face like a sticker. maybe if you changed yourself to be who he wanted down to a T he wouldn't find excuses to tell you he didn't want to see you. maybe this whole thing was just embarrassing. maybe not being loved by him was just so fucking pathetic. maybe he didn't want to be with you because neither one of you had anything good to say to each other anymore.

you can't even remember the last time he gave you a compliment, but he isn't the compliment type, right?

how, in reality, were you supposed to take all of this? you looked in the mirror and told yourself it was dramatic to be upset about something so trivial as a couple words and missed calls, but he swore that he'd never hurt you.

you hadn't realized the tears that began slipping through your closed lids until you felt the soft touch of someone you couldn't decide which side of the fence to fall to because of.

your eyes shot open like it was a nightmare, and for a second he was just a stranger to you; wondering how he got into your apartment.

you could recognize the voice, but you couldn't decide if the sentiment was there, if he was even really standing in your living room looking as jaded as a ghost.

he stared at the bottle, and then your relaxed posture and tears stained cheeks. he wasn't dumb, and he obviously put two-and-two together.

maybe neither one of you could ask the question that kept circling your brain like the ceiling fan you relied on for sleep: should we end this?

"should we?" he asked, the statement sobering you to the core, "...if that's what you want."

you had to laugh before you started to cry harder, "w-what i want?" the empty glass found its way back to the coffee table with an audible thump, "what makes you think i want to end this, sungho? you'd have to see me to know anything about what i think."

"you never made the effort." he shrugged, but he didn't know why he said that. “you should’ve tried harder.”

but you knew his pride was bigger than his heart, and playing this game would only end with a losing screen.

"are you fucking kidding me?" you acted faster than your brain could keep up with, standing up and approaching him. you didn't know what you were going to do, but anything for him to understand how much he hurts you — anything at all. "will you come over? sorry, i'm tired. did you eat? yes. should i bring you guys the cookies i made today? sorry, we're not at the dorm. i'm here, let me know when you arrive. i'm so sorry, i completely forgot about my schedule today, can we do something when promotions are over? can we talk? i miss you. sorry, busy." you used the back of your hand to wipe the tears away, "do you — no, did you ever love me, sungho? do you even fucking care that i only hear you when its your voicemail telling me you're unavailable? do you even know how stupid i feel staying in a bed for two when it's just me every night? i call you my boyfriend but i don't know what that really means. what am i to you? what am i really? because i don't feel like you know either."

the look on his face could be described as none other than horrified, confused, maybe even a little bit of anger and sadness. he was a mix of emotions, but you couldn't say you were exactly clear-headed either.

you just wished you could read his damn mind.

"tell me! t-tell me i'm wrong." and you couldn't decide if that was a desperate plea to hold on subconsciously making itself known. all it was missing was a broken please, a not-so-silent beg for all of this to just be wrong. incorrect. so far from the truth.

god, you hated him, but that's why you loved him so fucking much.

he made you so angry, so hurt sometimes. he challenged your peace of mind. he made it very known within your psyche that he was different. he was like nobody else you've ever loved. nobody you've ever had the pleasure to touch and be touched by. you were heading full speed for the edge of a cliff with broken brakes. you were so out of control, a one-in-a-million change that you'd survive, but if it meant you could rebuild the house you'd once converted into a home with him, you'd take those odds. those terrible odds that didn't ease your anxiety. but there was always something about him you were prepared to fight for — and maybe that's why you've held onto the edge for so long.

"do you even know how embarrassing it is to be stood up by your own boyfriend, having to cancel your reservation in front of everyone? to have to beg to hold your hand? to have to repeat yourself a million times because you were busy reading texts?" not when the road has ended and you've been exploring the wilderness alone; mapless, in the middle of a thunderstorm. you loved him, you really did, but did you only say that to hold onto any form of comfort you used to not have to fight to get. "i love you so, so much, sungho. i just want you to understand that everything we've built feels so fragile and uncertain. i don't want to end this, but i don't know how far i can go. i-its killing me."

and you could only dig the grave so deep before you hit rock-bottom.

is it too late? well, maybe that's what you feared the most. maybe you feared that he wasn't hearing a word that you've said. maybe every little thing you've overthought was just a regular thought. maybe you weren't being dramatic. maybe it was all okay now that you've finally gotten it off your chest.

so, why did you feel violently nauseous as he stood in silence? why did you regret stepping waist-deep in the mess you've made? if you were making the bed, you had no right complaining that it was too hard.

maybe you should stop blaming yourself...

if it was out of your hands, then why'd you feel the sand slipping through your fingers? why would you feel the shake from the chill that crisped the air? if this was how it was supposed to work out, then why'd you have to meet at all? did he really add that much to your life?

yes.

he brought too much to your life, you were scared to have to figure out how to live without them.

but, maybe you already had?

your mouth opened once again, maybe it was to prompt him into answering you, or maybe you didn't know what you were going to do. nonetheless it didn't matter, as you were shut up before a syllable dared leave your throat.

you had questions haunting you, but with the way his lips touched yours made you draw a blank. you wanted to know if he cared — even if only a little — however the beat of his heart, that you could feel through his thumbs against your cheeks, told you a different story. a story you hadn't thought of the ending to yet.

was this just a page you hadn't turned? was this just a dreadful chapter that had been dragged out? was this just a word you couldn't pronounce, much less describe that kept you stuck rereading the same paragraph?

was he finally turning off the burner? was he finally going to either, let you let him go, or tighten your grip?

he pulled back, tears pooling at the bottom of his eyes, "i'm sorry." and that was more than any stupid explanation could ever offer you. "y/n, tell me how to fix it — i-i don't want to end this."

you wrapped your arms around his neck, caging him into a long awaited hug. “just love me.” and his stuck firmly around your waist, squeezing tighter every time he felt a minuscule movement.

“i do.” i whispered back through quiet sniffles, right next to your ear, it gave you goosebumps. it was something you wanted to hear, needed to know, “i really, really love you.”

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coltermorning · 3 days

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Of Love and Loss Ch. 14 (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur Morgan x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: Another day in town reveals a deep-seated lack of worth within Arthur that you do your best to distract him from.

Author’s Notes: I’ve decided on a relative timeline for this story—about three years before the events of the game, hence Arthur’s age mentioned in this chapter. More alcohol consumption in this chapter. Chapter fourteen of this one. More notes at the end.

Tags: Arthur Morgan x reader, high honor Arthur Morgan, minor character death, loss of parents, blood and injury, grief/mourning, survivor guilt, strangers to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut, graphic depictions of violence

AO3 Link

Of Love and Loss

Fourteen: A Good Day’s Mischief

Word count: 5057

Still ain’t told me her name. Considering her drunken state last night, I doubt she remembers any promises well enough to keep them. Still, I was hoping to get it out of her while her judgement remained so poor. Now she’s back to herself—defiant and stubborn as she ever was.

You and Arthur had done all you’d set out to do, freshly laundered clothes in hand, horse and mule checked on, and bellies full. You could get used to a life like this. Especially the way the two of you walked side by side, quiet for all that had passed between you the night prior. Simply happy to be together. He may not have wanted you in the same way you wanted him, but after being held by him all through the night, feeling so protected and cared for, you didn’t care. That closeness was unlike anything, something you craved deep in your bones. You prayed you weren’t too obvious about that need, especially as you walked beside him now where you would normally follow along. But he didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he kept that mild satisfaction on his face and walked on. It was all you could do not to smile like an idiot at his happiness—at knowing you were the one who put it there.

The two of you trudged up the creaking hotel steps and inside, Arthur nodding at the hotel owner just as he had the day before. It filled you with such a sense of familiarity you could hardly stand it.

Upon reaching the room, you immediately held out your hand for Arthur to give you his shirt.

“Let me sew that up, get this thread back to the hotel worker.”

Something passed over his expression you couldn’t place, but he did as you asked. And you were soon sewing the small separation shut with the same swiftness as before, glad his shirt was also blue so that the thread matched.

You finished and looked up to find him watching your hands.

“You’re good at that,” he said.

You passed the shirt over to him, tucking the needle and thread in your pocket. “I had lots of practice.”

He smiled—a soft, genuine thing compared to his usual smirk. It made him more handsome than any haircut could.

“Let me get this back downstairs,” you told him, patting your pocket. “Be right back.” And, when you headed for the door without a word of protest from him, you turned. “What, no quip about me being careful?” His gaze was on his shirt, his thumb running over the newly threaded mend. But when he caught you staring, he tossed it aside and cleared his throat.

“I thought that was implied.” All haughtiness returned.

You just grinned and left the room, nerves rearing at that same sense of familiarity that came from spending time with him. It was a dangerous thing to be so happy about—something that wouldn’t last.

Items returned, you reentered the bedroom to find Arthur looking out the window and smoking. His coat was once again shed, those broad shoulders on display. You had to keep yourself from staring.

He turned and offered you his cigarette.

“Never again,” you said, holding up your hand in refusal.

He chuckled. “Come on. It weren’t that bad.”

“Tell that to my lungs.”

The light in his eyes as they held on yours was deceiving. Partially because their genuineness reminded you of when he had kissed you, and you were filled with a hope you knew to be false because of it.

“You…wanna go back to the saloon?” he asked, voice careful like he realized what that look did to you.

“Maybe,” you said just as soft. “What else could we do while we’re in town?”

You thought you caught a tinge of red crossing his face before he turned back to the window, looking down to the street below. “There’s plenty of mischief for an outlaw to get into around these parts.”

Surprised, you pondered what that could possibly entail. “An outlaw, huh?”

He just lifted the cigarette to his lips again, not responding.

“As eager as I may be to see a bit of this world, I believe that’s where my sense of adventure ends.”

He looked at you then, a smirk lighting his eyes. “Please, do enlighten me on what you think I’m suggesting.”

“I, uh…” Truth be told, you had no idea. You’d thought he meant mischief beyond the arms of the law. For the both of you. “I guess I don’t know.”

He was really smiling then.

“What?”

“It’s a wonder we get along,” he said on a chuckle, smoke puffing out as he did.

“Do we?”

“Good point.” He leaned back against the window frame, one hand landing on his gun belt. Something about that relaxed grace of his made you want things you didn’t know how to want. He went on. “It’s just strange. Me, an outlaw, and you, skittish as a wild horse, not even knowing what that word means.”

“I know what it means.”

“Do you?”

“Outside of the law. Getting by on…thievery at best.”

“And at worst?”

Even though a small smile remained on his face, you could tell he cared about your answer. It was a loaded gun, that question. This circling conversation the pair of you never could seem to rid yourselves of.

He held your stare, and you held it right back. “That violence you showed me when those two men tried raiding our camp. What it could have turned into.”

“And what’s that?”

He wanted you to say it. Like he wanted you to fully understand—to hate him for it.

You stared at him a long time. Then, “I’m not scared of you, Arthur.” He made to laugh that off, so you pushed. “You’ve been awfully good to me for someone who wants to think himself so evil.”

That finally made him crack. He looked to his boots and let out the last of his laugh, smoke trailing in its wake. “Evil ain’t the right word.”

“What then?” You didn’t know you wanted to know him so badly until that very moment.

He turned back to the window and stood there a long time. It was only when you thought he wouldn’t answer that you heard his voice, deep yet small.

“Undeserving.”

The word tore through you. It was said with such sadness, such honesty, that you felt your chest cave knowing he wore that burden so heavily. Thinking himself truly beyond saving.

You could have consoled him in so many ways—namely by saying a worthless person wouldn’t worry themselves over whether they deserved good things. But you found yourself unable to get it out, unable to say a word. You just watched him in front of that window, smoke billowing up like old wounds finally brought forth—veiled and, consequently, impossible to staunch. It killed you to see that in him. It had you rethinking everything, every moment spent with him. You had been taking and taking and taking, never once thinking of his needs. So you vowed, right then and there, to begin.

“Let’s go, get out of here for a while.”

“Where?” he asked without facing you.

“Anywhere.”

He finished his cigarette, the stub short and burning in the noonday light.

“On one condition,” you amended.

He turned then, face clouded with something you couldn’t decipher.

“That you enjoy yourself.” He made to answer, but you interrupted. “And don’t lie and say you’ve been doing that already because you haven’t. Not while you’ve been so busy watching my back every second.”

He didn’t deny it.

“When’s the last time you quit worrying about everyone else? Did something for yourself?”

He let out a flat laugh. “Been a while.”

“Exactly. So come on and show me a good time, and stop babying me.”

“That ain’t-”

“Save it.” You opened the door and motioned for him to go ahead of you as dramatically as you could.

He rolled his eyes and made a big show of being annoyed, but you did know that much about him—all that gruffness was only that: show. So he gave in like you knew he would and was out the door in seconds.

You let Arthur lead the way this time, vowing to go where he went, to keep out of trouble. He must have really taken your word for it, for he soon walked straight into a saloon you hadn’t noticed before that was behind the hotel. It was…far from the likes of the Red Horse. Very far. But you were glad to see that Arthur wasn’t watching you for once, catering to you. Instead, he stepped up to the small, dingy bar and ordered a drink with a certain lightness in his step. He ordered you one too, but after seeing the state of the place, you didn’t feel like drinking from the dingy glasses he was handed. You gave him yours, and he only shrugged and started drinking both, propping himself against the bar top.

You took the time to note your surroundings—the piano player who kept missing notes not because of a lack of talent but because of a lack of keys. The few seedy-looking men who were already looking at you. You were immensely glad you hadn’t changed back into your own clothes, as their eyes hardly lingered on you any longer than they did Arthur. But the pair of you were strangers here, and with the way most of them huddled together in watchful silence, you could tell they frequented the place enough to call it their own. You and Arthur couldn’t say the same. And you felt the weight of their stares as a result of that long after turning away.

Arthur didn’t seem to mind the saloon’s company. In fact, if it weren’t for your being with him, you would be willing to bet he fit in around places like this. He seemed comfortable, less watchful, less shifty. It took you all of a heartbeat to decipher why, and the reason behind it both alarmed and saddened you—he was among like-minded people here. All shabby clothes and unkempt hair, guns on most patrons’ hips. You were willing to bet Arthur wasn’t the only man in the room who frequently found himself on the opposite side of the law. But more than that, it seemed he hadn’t enjoyed the company of the Red Horse as much because he felt he would never belong with those people. The more you looked around, the more you realized how abysmal Arthur’s self-worth was. He was worth ten of every man here. You didn’t even have to know them to know it—you could see it in their beady eyes. None of them would have helped you off that cliff bottom, but Arthur had. And you let him go on enjoying himself because of it, knowing any attempt to convince him of that worth would be futile. It would just anger him, and that was the opposite of the point of coming here. You instead thought of ways to help him keep his mind off things and grinned when an idea hit you.

“So.”

He turned to you. “Aww, don’t give me that look.”

“What look?”

“That one. Pure mischief if I ever seen it.”

“Isn’t that the point?” you asked, grin never fading. “You said it yourself. Plenty of mischief to get up to around here.”

He swigged down the rest of his drink and set it on the bar top, already waving at the bartender for another. “What did you have in mind?”

“You remember that little question game we played? With the gin?”

“Sure,” he said, not quite meeting your eye. Of course he did. It was hard to forget when the end result had been that kiss.

“I’ve got questions.”

“Here we go,” he muttered.

“I wasn’t properly…prepared last time. It was unfair from the start.”

“I let you ask me just as many questions as I asked you, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but the caliber of questions was, well, tipped in your favor.”

“That so?” he asked, turning to you. The smug look on his face had you trying your best not to think of where the last game had led, because it was already getting difficult to resist wanting that again.

“They were,” you said simply.

“Well, fire away then.” He lowered his voice so only you could hear. “You already know enough to get me hanged. How much worse could you throw at me?”

You didn’t know enough to get the man hanged, for Christ’s sake, but you banished the thought before your confidence could be shaken. Instead, you started simple—with exactly the same thing he had.

“What’s something you never told anyone? Your deepest, darkest secret?”

“Deepest and darkest, huh?” he said, tilting his head back in thought and amusement.

You gave him time to think it over, knowing better than to tease him when you had the upper hand. He would just quit, and where would the fun be in that?

Whether from liquid courage or from genuinely wanting to enjoy himself, he relented.

“I don’t like the cold.”

“What? That’s not an answer,” you chided.

“It’s plenty answer,” he said with a grin, knowing it was anything but.

You were a breath away from arguing when you caught the way he was looking at you, just waiting for you to do exactly that. So you clamped your mouth shut and rerouted. “I meant something more along the lines of downright humiliating like my answer was, but…I’ll allow it.”

“You didn’t say humiliating. You said something no one else knows about me. Living with that gang of misfits every second of every day, you learn everything there is to know about each other.”

“That’s…more like it,” you admitted. Then, “Well, why the cold then? I like it.”

“Oh, and I’m not allowed to have an opinion?” he teased.

You glared. He just tilted his head back and laughed, and it was better than any answer he could have given you.

“Fine,” he said on a sigh. “It’s because it’s miserable. Heat can be bearable. It’s never painful, but the cold…”

“Yeah, I can see that,” you said, feigning understanding. Then, because he deserved some hassling in return, “It’s hard on the weak-willed.”

He scoffed and bumped his shoulder into yours in retaliation, and all you could do was laugh into your hand, trying to hide the feminine sound from the surrounding crowd.

“My turn,” he said. “And you got two, so I get two, and don’t even try to wiggle out of that.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t protest.

“You ever daydream about kissing the postman?”

You could feel your face burn at that one, trying to answer fast enough to cover your embarrassment. “What kind of question is that? Why do you keep bringing that up?”

“I ain’t never brought it up since you did,” he countered.

Maybe not, but he always aimed these questions right where you were most guarded. Or most clueless, more like.

You groaned your frustration and were about to blurt denial before you realized that would be a lie—you’d never kissed anyone before Arthur, and you couldn’t deny that childish curiosity that had you imagining a hundred different scenarios with that stupid postman at the ripe age of fourteen. Maybe even thirteen.

Your hesitation was your biggest mistake. Arthur’s shit-eating grin had already taken hold. “Knew it.”

“There’s nothing to know,” you hissed, trying to keep from a yell. Lucky there was the sound of a piano currently filling the saloon, or this whole conversation would be on display for the patrons.

“Can’t lie,” he teased. “Those are the rules.”

“I haven’t even said-”

“Next question,” he interrupted. “Since you want to play dirty.”

“I wasn’t playing-”

“Did you imagine him your age in said daydreams, or were you kissing a forty-year-old man?”

“You’re terrible,” you said. “Absolutely awful.”

“So…that a yes?” he asked over a wicked grin.

“No.” He gave you a knowing look, and you immediately shut it down. “No. He was…like he always looked. Not forty, for Christ’s sake.”

“Thirty-nine?”

You swatted him. He laughed. “What then?”

“I don’t know,” you said, exasperated. “How old are you? He looked about like you do.”

You realized your mistake the moment the words left your mouth. Especially when Arthur’s expression turned from amusement to smugness.

“Like me, huh?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“No?” His grin had turned feral.

“He looked your age.”

“Sure.” He dropped it, but you knew by the look on his face the conversation was far from over. Meanwhile, it was likely your face would soon burn away with how red you knew it to be.

“I’m thirty-three,” he said, interrupting your embarrassment.

“He was around that.”

He nodded. Then, “Well, as fine a question as asking my age is, it’s my turn again.”

“Excuse me?” You said it loud enough for Arthur to shush you.

“Pipe down with all that. Lest you want these fine folks knowing you’re a lady.”

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

“What?”

“Lady. That’s the second time.”

“That’s what you are, ain’t it?”

“Woman,” you corrected.

“Woman. Lady. Same thing.”

You leaned over the bar, facing away from him. He was too amused with you to let it lie. “What, you got a problem with it?”

“No. It’s…not terrible. Just don’t expect me to go calling you gentleman.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, nameless.” You whipped around at the nickname, and he winked at you before lifting his glass to his lips. Goddamn him for it. This was the Arthur you couldn’t stand being around since that kiss. The one who had led to that kiss. And all you wanted was for it to happen again.

You tore your eyes away from him and tried to think of a question that would justify why you were suddenly wracked with nerves and dead silent because of it.

“How ‘bout this,” he said, his smile so wide you knew it would be an awful question. “Have you ever…” His voice trailed when his eyes met the door. Yours followed, and you immediately knew why his focus had become so sharp—in walked the man from the night prior, the one who had lost so much money playing poker. Bowler hat, greasy manner, and all.

“And, like his father, he’ll come to regret that,” he was saying to one of the men he was with the night before. Well, slurring would be more accurate. His red-tinged face and bloodshot eyes gave him away for a drunk if his speech didn’t.

“Mr. Lawrence,” the bartender called over to him. “Nice to see you in.”

“Ah, Mr. Begley,” the man—Lawrence—responded. He leaned over to his friend, either not bothering to lower his voice or unaware of its loudness as he said, “Can’t very well say it’s a pleasure in this dump, can I?”

His friend chuckled in response, but all you could do was glare. Your distaste must have been obvious enough for Arthur to lean into you and whisper, “Eyes forward, there.”

You did as he asked, not needing to draw attention to yourself now.

You were grateful when the man and his friend settled on the opposite side of Arthur, though not even a minute passed before he was drawing Arthur’s attention.

“A new face, have we? Haven’t seen you here before.”

Arthur kept his eyes forward as he said, “Never been here before.”

“A newcomer then. Staying or passing through?”

“Just passing through.”

“You and your…ah…”

Lawrence leaned past Arthur to look at you.

“My friend,” Arthur answered, though it only resulted in a raised eyebrow from the man. It was obvious enough to anyone looking closely you were a woman. But if he realized, he didn’t say anything.

“Yes. Well, the name’s George Lawrence. Brother to the notorious James Lawrence.” The description dripped with disdain for the latter, though you had no clue who he was referring to.

“Who?” Arthur asked, and you had to rein in a smile at the way he blatantly snubbed the man, offering up no name of his own.

This really got the man’s attention, and his friend’s too. “You don’t know? Oh dear, what filthy little rock have you been living under?” When Arthur still didn’t take the bait, Lawrence kept on. “The shootist? Recently appointed town marshal?”

“Here?”

The man scoffed a laugh. “Yes, here.”

“Well, if he’s as friendly as you, maybe I’ll go pay him a visit,” Arthur jeered.

Lawrence’s eyes narrowed with disgust, his oily nose crinkling up with it. He looked Arthur up and down. “And you are?”

“Arthur Callahan.” You were surprised Arthur even offered that much, though he still wouldn’t meet the man’s eye, too busy leaning over the bar top and trying to ignore him.

“And you?”

Lawrence’s eyes had fallen on you, and you blurted the first name that came to you to keep Arthur held back as he turned toward the man in offense. “Frances Smith.”

Lawrence’s eyes narrowed as Arthur whipped around, surprise lining his gaze—he didn’t realize the name was fake. You just shook your head at him.

“Well. I hope the two of you enjoy yourselves in our humble town. Though I do suggest sticking to the back streets. That’s where the other…what do you call it? Cowmen tend to reside.”

Never in your life had you heard that word said with such disdain, and it drew Arthur’s attention like a gunshot. “Excuse me?” he grimaced, voice dangerously low.

“I don’t believe I stuttered.”

That did it. Arthur stood to his full height, towering over the smaller man, and swept into his space so quickly that Lawrence stumbled back onto his friend’s foot.

“I don’t know who you think you’re talking to,” Arthur threatened, “but I ain’t like these other townies, scared of some marshal brother of yours. So I’d suggest you get lost before you find yourself with a few less teeth.”

The whole saloon had stopped to stare—even the piano player. It was dead silent as Lawrence answered with a slight slur in his voice, “I would think twice about the crowd you find yourself in before you threaten a fight.”

Arthur looked around as you did, finding many glaring patrons. But they weren’t glaring at the two of you. Rather, it seemed they had caught just enough of the conversation for Lawrence to offend the whole lot of them too. Arthur must have noticed this, as he looked back to Lawrence and, without hesitation, yanked him forward and head butted him right in the nose. A crack rent the air, Lawrence went crumpling to the floor, and his friend could only shout his shock and try to help him back to his feet, both too drunk to do much of anything else.

A few of the patrons laughed, one exclaiming, “That’ll show him, the sorry bastard.”

Lawrence finally reached his feet with a bloodied nose, straightening his jacket with whatever dignity he had left. And, seeing no one would come to his aid, he just glared at Arthur and cursed under his breath as he stepped past him.

“Come on, Higgins. I think it best my dear brother hears about this.”

With that, he left. You and Arthur watched him until the doors snapped shut behind him and his friend.

“As satisfying as that was,” the bartender said, drawing your attention. “I would be careful with that one.”

Arthur pushed his glass back toward the man for him to refill it, tossing another coin down. “Slimy bastard like that deserves worse.”

“Perhaps.” The bartender waited until the room resumed its careful conversation, most men eyeing Arthur now. The rickety piano started back up when the bartender leaned in close over the bar. “He wasn’t exaggerating about his brother. They say he’s the quickest draw anyone’s laid eyes on in years. And, newly appointed town marshal to boot. You would do well to remain in his good graces.”

“If he’s anything like his sorry excuse for a sibling, I don’t care to be,” Arthur muttered.

“He’s not. He’s likable enough. You get on his bad side, and you’ll find the whole town against you.”

Arthur noted this but didn’t answer, so you did. “How on earth did a man like that wind up with a brother like George?”

The bartender really looked at you then, likely just now realizing your gender. But you appreciated his kindness as he only tipped his hat to you and explained. “They say George has lived in his brother’s shadow too long. Not as talented, not as favorable. And his nasty gambling and drinking habits make for a sour man indeed. Too much money and too little entertainment. I would steer clear of both men.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Arthur said, cutting you off before you could respond. You looked to find him glaring at you, likely because you had drawn so much attention to yourself twice now.

The bartender took the hint and his leave, letting you and Arthur be.

“We need to get going, Frances.”

You couldn’t help your smile. “Is that what you’re upset about? You did just crack a man’s nose with your skull, you know.”

He didn’t acknowledge that. “All this time, you wouldn’t tell me your name, and you dole it out to the first bastard to walk through that door and ask it?”

“Maybe he was nicer about it than you were.”

“He wasn’t.” Arthur’s scowl tickled you—like a pouting child. You pointed to his drink.

“Finish that, and let’s go.” He raised an eyebrow at you. “Unless you want the big bad marshal to come knocking.”

He scoffed and threw his drink back, slamming it on the bar top. “Thanks,” he offered the bartender, tossing him another coin for his discretion and his advice before ushering you out. You could only smile at how disgruntled Arthur remained, letting him lead you on.

Frances. Goddamn Frances.

Arthur lead you back to the hotel, too spooked to go anywhere else despite the early afternoon hour. He hadn’t had his head on straight in that saloon—shouldn’t have taken you there in the first place. But he had to admit, you had a way of making him forget his logic. It had even been fun for a while. Until it wasn’t. Now he had the attention of one of the most powerful men in town which never lead to anything good. He was suddenly considering that putting an end to this little stay wasn’t such a bad idea. It had been nice while it lasted, even if it had only lasted two days.

After locking you both inside the hotel room, Arthur dug through his satchel for a cigarette, finding he only had one left. He would need to get to a store soon. Maybe in the next town.

“So,” you said, that playful lilt still in your voice despite what had gone down back in that saloon. “Mr. Callahan, was it?”

He shook his head as he lit a match. “Fake name.” You laughed lowly, and it drew his attention. As did the way you settled on the bed. “What?”

“Nothing.”

He let you drop it, still too jittery to pick a fight with you.

“I didn’t know any better, and I’d say you’re jealous.”

He didn’t take the bait. “Am I?”

“You must be if that’s how you react to me giving my name out.”

He eyed you, taking a long drag. “I ain’t jealous.”

“No?”

“No.” Then, because he couldn’t resist, “It just don’t make much sense. You, protecting your precious name from me all this time only to-” He caught your eye and the grin underneath them. And simultaneously realized himself a fool. “That ain’t your name, is it?”

You smiled wide, and he scoffed.

You laughed loudly, the sound so pure it made his chest tighten. “No, Mr. Callahan, it’s not.”

“Well, you don’t get to know my name, then. How’s that?”

You shrugged. “Fine. Arthur’s all I need.”

“You’re something else,” he said, ears burning for the way you kept outsmarting him.

With this, you just smiled and shed your hat, lying back on the bed. He wanted to join you on it. Knew he wasn’t strong enough not to. But if he was going to keep any gentlemanly manner about him, he couldn’t do it now. He couldn’t lay beside you while that alcohol ran through his blood so thick and that laugh of yours made him want to take your mouth to his. If he did, the night would end in a way he was torn between wanting desperately and knowing he would regret the moment it happened. There would be no happy ending for you and him. Just as there hadn’t been with Mary. Just as there hadn’t been with Eliza and the boy…

He couldn’t dwell on that now. Not while he still had you—someone kind enough to brave the world for him, as you had tonight in that shit hole of a saloon. It meant more to him than he could say. You were right that he never took time for himself. Mainly because when he did, it always ended badly, and there wasn’t anyone with him now with enough knowhow to get him out of a tight like that. In fact, the thought of you just trying put a smile on his face. Smart or no, you were no outlaw. He was willing to bet your experience with the law ran nigh on none, good or bad. But his experience wasn’t exactly something to be proud of, so he went back to looking out the window and trying to empty his head with that lone cigarette, passing the time in hopes you would fall asleep and his blood would cool. After a while, both came like a caring respite, and he crawled into that bed a second time with you, repeating to himself that it was only for comfort. And only for a little while longer.

_________

End Notes: My apologies if your name happens to be Frances Smith 😂 just pretend she said some other name that isn’t yours if so!

tag list: @nayomi247 @ultraporcelainpig @photo1030 @spiritcatcherxo @calcarius445

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #high honor arthur morgan #rdr2 arthur morgan #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #fanfic #writing

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skteezcursed · 13 hours

Text

❝0258❞ — j.yh.

PAIRING. ex!jeong yunho x fem!reader.

GENDER AND WARNINGS.smut. slight toxic behavior. dom!yunho. switch leaning sub!reader. possessiveness. alcohol consumption. yunho is borderline toxic (i apologize). fingering. orgasm denial. creampie. p in v. hair pulling. unprotected sex (please, do NOT). lmk if i forgot anything.

SYNOPSIS. yunho doesn’t like to share, he never did, especially not you. it doesn’t matter you two broke up, you are still his, so when he sees you flirting with other guys in a frat party (that you weren’t the biggest fan of), something builds inside of him and he just needs to make it clear that you belong to him, and him alone.

RATING. R (+18) - MDNI.

WORD COUNT. 4k.

NOTES. english is not my first language. part of the ateezchella especial and of the atz house event you can't out rage us. thanks to @juyofans and @yunhoszn for the costume idea, thanks @bro-atz for the plot idea, thanks coachella for the cowboy yunho with the rings, thanks for his parents for not having used protection or prevented their son from being born, because this man wrecked me completely. bye ♡.

IMPORTANT. this is a work of fiction, it has zero intent on portraying how any of the people quoted here are in real life.

CREDS. dividers by cafekitsune ♡

He knew he would probably find you here. He knew you liked to party from time to time and how your friends would always lure you into one or another, even when you two were together. And in all honesty, he was okay with that, except for the fact you were at a frat party less than a month after you two broke up. Wearing a fucking chromed dress that barely covers your ass, the metallic make up just making you stand our more and he never hated a futuristic themed party more than he did now.

As if that wasn’t enough, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you ever since they found you with your friends on the corner, dancing and smiling all the way. His eyes lingering at your outfit, wishing you at least had shorts underneath your dress. Only if he was allowed to touch you, only if he was allowed to see under that dress.

“Well, this is becoming an embarrassment,” Jongho’s voice quickly found Yunho as he watched the youngest of his frat drown the last of his drink before indicating you on the other side of the room. “Weren’t you the one that broke up?”

“So?”

Yunho tried his best to not make his eyes wander to you, or to acknowledge the amount of guys that were eyeing you, surrounding you, just waiting for an opportunity to -

“So, why do you care so much if another guy comes along? Aren’t they single afterall?”

If Yunho could punch Jongho at that moment we would, but he chose better, just turning the beer down his throat before meeting you again. A group of guys from another frat had gotten closer to your group. Yunho knew them, so maybe he -

“He’s simping again, isn’t he?” Yunho just scoffed at Yeosang’s remark, feeling Mingi joining the others, a hand draped around Yunho’s shoulder. “If you can’t keep your eyes away from them, why did you break up in the first place?”

“Because (y/n) was saying that a lot of girls were trying to get with him and he wasn’t pushing them away, so -”

“Why would I give them the time of day when I had her? It was like she didn’t trust me, that’s why we broke up!”

“So, that has nothing to do with the fact that you started to notice how guys were always around them and accused them of cheating?” The other boys shook their heads as Yunho bit his inner cheek at Mingi’s remark. “So you didn’t trust her, and decided to break up, but now, you can’t keep your eyes off of them in that pretty little tiny dress that -”

“Mingi,” it was a warning, making the other tall one chuckle, raising his hands with a smirk. “You guys are fucking -”

“Oh, looks like she moved on from you, dude.”

At that, his head snapped your direction, and he found Juyeon, from TBZ frat rather close with you, his hands on your back and you were fucking smiling at him, your flirty smile, the smile that made Yunho want you pin you down on the closest surface and fuck you senseless just to take that fucking smile off your lips.

“And off he goes!”

Yunho could still hear all three guys behind him as he took the first steps in your direction. There was no way you’d go with Juyeon, no you were Yunho’s and no one else's, but as he got closer, he noticed one of your friends caught your attention, making you put some distance – which should be bigger – between you and Juyeon. As you turned to say something, your face got closer to his as Yunho noticed how the guy’s arm wrapped around your waist pulling you closer. He had half moons marking his palm as the custom rings Hongjoong had made for him dig into the skin.

As you pulled away, your eyes met with his, making you stop almost instantly, only moving because your friend pulled you in. In all truth, you didn’t want to come to this party, you didn’t want to leave the house at all, ever since you and Yunho broke up, a lot of things crossed your mind as in the actual reason for that, as he came with a ‘I just think it's best if we go our separate ways, this isn’t working anymore’ and left at that, ignoring your calls and texts, until you gave up after almost a week.

If it weren’t for Alexa, you probably weren't even gonna be at the NCT frat party, also, you thought that Yunho would have gone to the BTS frat last night and not show up at this one so you wouldn’t bump into him. As if that wasn’t enough, all you could think about was the face he gave you as Alexa guided you through the bodies of people. He was mad, he was fuming. Was he so annoyed you were there? Did he really hate you that much?

“Just keep watch okay, I trust the boys, just not every guy in this forsaken party!”

She said as she closed the bathroom door making you touch your head against the wooden door sighing deeply. All you wanted in that moment was to leave that house, curl in bed and cry for everything that happened with Yunho.

“Why is my pretty girl sad?” You raised your head finding Haechan getting out of his room, curiously not accompanied by anyone. “Did anyone give you a hard time? Just let me know and me and the boys will -”

“It’s fine,” you said quick but the sadness was still noticeable in your voice and eyes. “I just want some time alone, I… I just saw Yunho and -”

Haechan’s arms quickly wrapped around your figure as you held back your tears. It has been a month, you should have a grip on your emotions already. You hid your face on Haechan’s chest, apologizing for the amount of makeup that was smearing his shirt, but all he did was kiss you head, temple and cheek while rubbing your bare back, suddenly way more conscious of how open the back was.

“He’s the idiot to let go of you, maybe you should take this party to enjoy, yes?” You nodded slightly, your hand going to the back of his neck, fingers playing with the hair ends. “Mark sent a picture of you with Juyeon from TBZ frat, he’s a good guy, maybe you should try it out with him.”

“Thanks, I might, just need to get a grip,” you said, pulling away from Haechan cupping his face before leaving a small kiss on his cheek. “Go enjoy your party, I have to wait for Alexa to leave the bathroom anyways.”

“Come meet me later, I can help you find some fun.”

You chuckle and waved towards Haechan as you watched him go down the stairs, sighing loudly, cursing on your mind at how long Alexa was taking, getting a little worried at that.

“Guess you moved on quickly, right pretty?” Your whole body became suddenly aware of how close he was, when did he arrive? Why was he here? “So, who is it gonna be? Juyeon or Haechan? Maybe both?”

“What do you want, Yunho?”

“Can’t I ask about your whereabouts?”

“You lost that right when you broke up with me,” you turned to him, half of the reason why your face was flustered was for the alcohol and annoyance, but the other half was by his presence, if he knew that or not, it was still up to be discovered, “don’t you remember?”

“Oh, I remember well enough,” he towered over you, making you take small steps behind until your back was pressed against the bathroom door, the smile on Yunho’s lips when he noticed he got you cornered made you press your thighs together, “but that doesn’t mean I’m okay with others wanting what it’s mine.”

“I’m not yours for a while now.”

“Oh pretty, you’ll always be mine,” you can’t lie to yourself and pretend like you didn’t miss the possessiveness Yunho carried whenever you two were together. “Should I remind you?”

“I’m not yours anymore, Yunho, you decided that.”

“What if I decided that I don’t want you to be my ex anymore?”

“Because you are jealous or because you actually mean it?” That was it, that was the moment you saw his eyes darken, the cover from the cowboy hat only helping with that. Your eyes lingered a little longer on his before falling to his lips, a small smirk appearing once you saw them forming a thin line. “Are you jealous that I might like Juyeon or Haechan more than you?”

As his hands held you by the waist and hip, your breath hitched, but neither of you reacted to that, your body already telling him enough. The hand that was on your waist trailed towards your bare back and a gasp left your lips as the cool metal of his rings touched your exposed lower back, making him smile at that pulling you closer to him. Your hands quickly find the vest he was wearing, getting tangled with the necklaces. He was too close, his body fitting into yours as if it was made for it to happen.

You whined as you felt the sharpness of his ring against your skin, what kinda ring he was wearing you didn’t know, but you for sure didn’t want to see it or else, it was just another thing to occupy the ‘Jeong Yunho Folder’ on our mind. For a moment, you tried to react, but instead of pushing him away, your fingers held the vest tighter, making him chuckle as his face got closer to yours, the hat already touching your head as you could feel his breath mixing with yours. Way more stable than yours could ever be.

“I think that’s something neither should be worried about, don’t you think, pretty?” Before anyone could answer, both heard the sounds coming from the bathroom, but Yunho was faster, turning both of you away and into Haechan’s room, the door closing the same second Alexa opened the bathroom door. You felt the cold metal of the rings on your lips as Yunho was paying attention to the sound on the other side. “Keep quiet pretty and I’ll reward you later, yeah?”

You just nodded, feeling the pressing of the rings on your lips, one of the rings touching your throat making you raise your head slightly. Who had the fucked up idea to give Jeong Yunho those freaking ring sets? You cursed, closing your eyes, only to open them, becoming even more aware of your situation. Yunho pressing his body against yours, one of his hand on your waist, as his ringed finger touched your lips, one of his legs in between yours, all this while in Haechan’s fucking room.

Alexa cursing and searching for you was barely on your mind as all of these were processed. How Yunho’s fingers tighten on your waist and he lowered his head leaving the air he was holding against your neck, making you shiver. A small whimper left your lips as his adorned fingers cupped your jaw pulling you to eye him. There was lust and anger in them, and you knew you shouldn’t crave him, but it was impossible not to when we looked like that, with his intense gaze on you as if nothing else existed, as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't broken up with you.

“Why you here Yunho?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” The cool metal of the rings made your breath hitch as the tips scratched the back of your head, his thumb going over your lips before his eyes focused back on your own. “I’m here to claim what’s mine.”

“We broke up and now you are jealous,” although you tried to sound sure, you both noticed your voice break, a small smile appearing on his lips. “I’m not yours anymore, Yuyu.”

“Do you think they can make you feel like I do? That they know your body? Know what makes you tickle, what makes your cunt dripping wet?” His face bore on your neck and you felt the cowboy hat fall on the floor as you whimpered feeling his wet lips on your skin. “Do you think anyone can compare to us?”

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you broke up with me, no?”

“You accused me of cheating when you were the one doing it all along.”

Your eyes turned to him, so that's why he broke up with you? Because he thought you cheated? “Who the fuck told you that? One of the girls from your dance class?”

“I’m not blind, (y/n), I saw it with my own eyes how you’d led some of the guys on, with your damn perfect smile and -”

“It’s called being polite, Yunho!” You tried pushing him, but he held you close, your attempt barely moving him out of place, making you sigh annoyed. “I never cheated on you, you lunatic, I’m fucking in love with you!”

“Yet, you were out there flirting with Juyeon and Haechan.”

You scoff, realizing he really was jealous. “So that’s what this is about! You are fucking jealous.”

“I told you once before, pretty, no one touches what’s mine, and you are mine,” you tried to close your legs only to find Yunho’s thigh in between them, making him chuckle as his hand on your face went to your neck, no pressure, just pure dominance. “Well well well, apparently someone is feeling horny,” his lips brushed against yours as you tried to move your hips against his thigh to alleviate the pressure, only to get his fingers to secure your waist, unabling you to move. “Maybe I should remind you how well I know your body and how no one will ever be able to please you better than me.”

In a swift move, he pulled your face to his, lips crashing as your hands finally left his vest, only to mess with his hair as the kiss deepened. You felt his hands wander south towards the valley of your thighs, only to hear him hum against your lips once he found the short shorts that you had under your dress.

“What?”

“I’m torn between calling you a good girl for wearing shorts under this fucking dress and to punish you for using it all together.”

Your breath hitched as his fingers put slight pressure against your clothed core and clit, throwing your head back and arching, trying to give him more room to work on your lower half, receiving a light chuckle from Yunho. “I was using the shorts because I had no intentions on getting with anyone tonight.”

“Is this you asking me to call you a good girl, pretty?” You melted at his words getting a snarky comment in response. “If you were a good girl, you wouldn’t be here in the first place, now would you? Wouldn’t be dresses like that, wouldn’t be getting other guys attention, or –”

“Please Yun–argh!” You bit your lip as you felt the pads of his unadorned fingers pressed a little harder against your clit. “Please, I’ll be good, please just touch me, I–I need your fingers, please.”

“Now, I need more than that pretty, I’m still not okay with what I saw earlier.”

“I don’t want them,” your mind haywired for a moment before you could put your thoughts together, remembering how he had seen you with both Juyeon and Haechan earlier. “I want you, Yunho, please I only want you.”

“That’s better.”

Nimbly, his hands moved inside your shorts, his cool fingers meeting your heated core and the shock made you shiver a little as you felt his adorned fingers in the back of your head, holding you in place so he could see all the reactions your body had towards him. A satisfied smile danced on his lips as he pulled you in for a kiss before his middle finger entered your wet hole, making you moan against the kiss. In a slow, torturous way, he curled his finger while moving it in and out the best he could, the heel of his hand occasionally pressuring your clit as his lips never got tired of your own.

In a swift movement, he added his ring finger inside, curling them while putting pressure on your cit while his other hand put pressure on your neck, forcing your face up to kiss him as your legs were already way too weak to hold you in place, only making Yunho smirk as he started to pump him fingers in and out of you, watching your face twist in pleasure.

“Who does this cunt belong to?” You couldn’t utter a coherent sound as his fingers nimbly worked their way to help you reach your high. His adorned fingers tighten around your neck making you whimper as your legs start to shake. “To whom does this fucking pussy belong to?”

“To you,” the cry came as his fingers slowed down inside you enough to help you make a coherent phrase. Knowing Yunho was smirking at your words you manage to open your eyes just enough to find him mere centimeters away from you, the lust in his eyes helping with the build up in your stomach. “This pussy is all yours, Yunho.”

“That’s it, pretty, now let’s make sure no one forgets it, yes?” You cried as his fingers left your wet folds, being denied the orgasm you so long waited, but as you watched him lick his wet fingers, you could’ve swore you could cum on sight. “Are you gonna be good for me pretty?” You mumble a small ‘yes’ as you watch him guide his fingers towards your mouth. “Suck it, let’s see if this helps you remind how good I make you feel, yeah?”

As your lips parted, he pushed the two fingers inside, eyes darkening even more as he feels your tongue swirl around it, your lips firmly on the base of his fingers as your eyes never lost contact with his. At that, your hips started to move against his leg in between your thighs, making him chuckle but not stopping you for a second as he observes your wreck yourself using him. To watch you beg and ruin was one of the favorites views he had, so have you do this without him saying, was making him harder in his trousers.

His fingers quickly left your mouth as he pulled both yours legs up, making you wrap them around his waist as he guided you to Haechan’s bed. Your friend was totally gonna kill you if he found out, but in that moment, all you wanted was Jeong Fucking Yunho. He dropped you on the bed making you gasp before his hands grab your jaw making you eye him. His unadorned fingers quickly untied his belt and opened his tight pants as you held eye contact with him. Your fingers traveling over your thigh finding your clothed core, you could already feel the wet patch regardless of the panties and shorts that were forming a barrier.

“Please, Yuyu,” you begged as he watched your fingers travel to in between your legs.

“Lose the shorts and panties,” he let go of your jaw and you did as you were told, knees finding the mattress as you finished taking you panties off, being thrown along with Yunho’s pants and vest on the side of the bed. “Now take this useless excuse of a dress,” your arms crossed in front of you, taking the dress away as you watched him unbutton his shirt, watching your naked body in front of you. “So fucking beautiful, so fucking mine.”

“All yours,” your hands pulled him in for a kiss as the button down shirt met the rest of the pile, the only piece of fabric between you two being the fucking boxers, that you were quick to put your hand through, finding his hard heated leaking cock, making him moon against your lips. “I want your cock, Yun, please, let me have your cock.”

“All fours, now.”

As you turned around, he got rid of his boxers, pumping his dick using the pre cum, watching your glistening pussy welcome him. A low groan left his mouth as you wiggled your bottom to him, but instead of getting his cock, a harsh slap found your asscheek making you jolt and moan in pain, the chuckle Yunho gave being the only answer you were gonna have. Behave like a fucking brat, you get treated like a fucking slut. Not that you cared, but in that moment, you wanted his cock, and if you kept acting like that, you knew he wouldn’t dick you down until he got you crying in bed.

So, in response, all you did was lower your upper body into the mattress, face turned to the side as one of your hands went up your clit rubbing it eagerly, as he watched your every move. As he felt you had suffered enough, he took two steps towards the bed, his cockheading meeting your wet folds, making your fingers leave your clit as you knew what expected you. In a torturously slow, calculated movement, his cockhead entered you just enough to have you crying for more.

As you were about to plea to him again, he buried himself inside of you, holding your hips the same second he felt you jolt forward, holding you in place as he felt you adjust to his size, groaning as he felt you clench around his length while panting face in the bed. The only sign you gave him that it was okay to move, was your hips moving. The chuckle came the same second you felt him pull out almost completely before starting ramming inside of you in a swift motion, hitting your cervix with every single thrust, making you cry a little.

One of your hands went to find his adorned fingers, as the unadorned ones got a hold of your hair, pulling your head back, as your hand held his adorned fingers in a tight grip. His erratic pace along with his breathing and his cock hitting all the right places, not helping you keep your sanity or a low volume. “Touch yourself for me, pretty, I want you creaming on my cock while I fill you up, can you do that, hun?”

Without a second to waste, your available hand reached your bundle of nerve, circle movements quickly taking over as you tried your best to keep a sane mind as you felt Yunho’s deep inside you, saying the filthiest things against your ear as he watched you coming undone with a cocky smirk. It didn’t take you long to come undone with a loud moan as you creamed around Yunho’s dick, as he kept ramming inside of you chasing his own high.

“Cum for me, Yuyu, make me yours for life.”

With that he came inside of you, letting go of your hair, allowing your body to finally hit the mattress, but he kept holding your hips up as he pulled out of you, watching as part of his seed fell out of your hole before pushing it all back with his fingers, making your squirm at the overstimulated area.

“Keep it all inside pretty, once we get back to my frat I want to see it all still there if you have plans on going anywhere tomorrow.” You cried as he pulled his fingers away, cleaning them on your ass as he watched you clenched your used pussy, trying to keep all of his cum inside. “That’s my good girl,” he kissed your ass close to your cunt before turning to find all your clothes, quickly picking your panties and putting on your legs, before throwing you short shorts through the room, making you complain before eyeing you carefully. “You are mine, there’s no point in using that thing anymore, no one will get near what's mine and it will make it easier to see if you kept my cum inside of you or not without that piece of fabric you call shorts.”

general masterlist here ♡

network: @cultofdionysusnet ♡ @atzhouse ♡

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

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wenigstenshabeichesversucht · 18 hours

Text

Greek Tragedy

Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader, Locklyle

Summary: Orpheus AU aka Orpheuswood

Warnings: angst, dead of a main character, english is not my native language

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Big thanks to @uku-lelevillain and @bobbys-not-that-small for the picture!

The day you died, started like every other day. You woke up to the sun peeking through your blinds and the smell of burned toast was lingering in the air. It was like every other day, until it wasn’t. Looking back, you couldn’t exactly pinpoint when everything went down the drain. But that was definitely before a relic man slashed your abdomen with a knife and before Lockwood pulled you through a gate to the other side.

Now you were stumbling behind Lockwood clutching your wound while warm blood was seeking through your fingers. This wasn’t how you would have imagined your first trip to the other side. But to be honest, nothing Lucy and Lockwood told you could have prepared you for this.

Stepping through the gate had felt like someone had emptied an ice bucket over your head. The cold pushed every breath out of your lungs, and it didn’t matter how close you pulled your spirit-cape around you, you would never feel warm again. It was so dark, that you had to concentrate to even see your own breath forming clouds in the air. All surfaces were covered by sheets of ice and even the blood dripping from your hands froze before it could hit the ground. However, this wasn’t the weirdest part about this twisted twin of the London you knew. Even the walls of buildings, all with signs of decay, which seemed to bend to you like a flower to the sun, weren’t the strangest thing this place had to offer. What really creeped you out was the silence. You grew up in London, a city which never really slept. The silence of the night was often interpreted by the sound of cars and the sirens of ambulances. But here, in this twisted mirror of the city you loved, reigned deadly silence. Only the crunch of the ice under your hurried steps and your ragged breath broke the silence that felt like a blanket over Dark London.

You didn’t know how long you were already staggering behind Lockwood, trying to keep up with his long-hurried steps. Time worked different here. This was no place for the living, and the time to make it out alive, was rapidly running through your fingers. Or to be clear, the time for Lockwood to make it out alive was slowly running out. You wouldn’t leave this place alive. You weren’t sure, when exactly you realized it. Was it the moment, the cold stopped bothering you and your breath became as cold as the lifeless air around you? Or was it the moment you finally caught up with Lockwood, feeling more energized than ever, while he was struggling with every step? This was no place for the living, and that you were adapting could only mean one thing. On the way through this twisted city, you had died. You would never return to the warm embrace of Portland Row, your home. But Lockwood was still alive, he could go back to your friends, to your home, live his life, do all the things, you now would never have the chance to do. You had lost everything; you wouldn’t allow the same happen to him. Late you would have all the time to mourn everything lost, now you had to urge him to the gate, without him turning around and seeing, that you weren’t longer with him.

In front of you, Lockwood stumbled out of exhaustion over his own feats and your hand shot out, to stop his fall. But before a catastrophe could happen, and you could ghost touch him, he caught himself. If you were still breathing, you would have let out a breath of relief. But you had stopped breathing some time ago, your skin was cold like ice and there was something missing, where previously your heart had given a rhythm.

“Just look ahead, and we will make it, I’m right behind you”, you weren’t sure, if he could still hear you. He wasn’t a Listener, and you were on your way to become a memory. But he did what he was told.

Keeping his eyes ahead, he dragged himself in the direction of the gate. You had no troubles to keep up. If you had wanted to, you could have overtaken him. However, you were too afraid about what would happen if he would see you. So, you would guide him from your place, a few steps behind him, to safety.

On your way to the gate, Lockwood wanted to turn a few times, to check that you were still behind him. But every time, before he could fully turn and see you, you succeeded in coaxing him to just look ahead. However, everything had to end, your life and also your tour through the other side. You were only a few meters away from the gate, when Lockwood did exactly the thing, you had dreaded the whole journey. He took a look at you. His gaze flickered over you, taking in the frozen blood on your hands and your clothes, who were stained red, and you could see the exact moment he realized, what had happened. His face fell, and unconsciously he took a step towards you. You weren’t sure, who of you both looked worse, he, who looked like he walked through hell, or you, who was dead but finally at home. You were the first to find your voice.

“You have to go”, you whispered, both knowing, that he didn't have much time left. But desperate he shook his head.

“I can’t leave you here, I love you!”

If you were still breathing, that confession would have knocked out the air out of your lungs. But you were dead, and no CPR could ever bring you back. You loved him too, since the first time you met him, you loved him. And when you first met you knew that you would love him your entire life, who would have guessed, that your life would be so short? However, if you told him the truth, he wouldn’t leave you. He would stay by you; he would die by your side. Just the thought crushed your heart. Your eyes were burning, but no tears escaped.

“I’m sorry Anthony”, your voice wasn’t more than a whisper, but in this quiet place it felt like you were speaking in a microphone. “You are a great friend, but I don’t love you”, you lied smoothly and with every word leaving your lips your heart broke a bit until a pile of shards was everything that was left. However, the pain which flickered over his face, was the worst part. You never wanted to be the cause of his pain.

“You have to leave”, you reminded him a second time, and you were surprised how calm your voice sounded, while inside you everything was falling apart. You were falling apart.

“I’m sorry, if I had realized that you were hurt sooner, we could have turned back. I could have saved you.”

You both knew that you couldn’t have turned back. Going back through the gate you entered this twisted world, had never been an option. At this gate only waited the death for both of you.

“It’s not your fault. But please let me do, what you couldn’t do. Let me safe you.” Your gazes looked, and that eye contact said more than a thousand words ever could.

“Fine”, he breathed out. “I will always miss you, Portland Row, will never be the same without you.”

And you would always miss him. But you were sure, that in a few years, he would have moved on, while you would remain frozen in time. As he reached the gate, he looked a last time back at you, and you forced a pained smile on your lips.

“I lied, I love you too”, you whispered, as he stepped to the gate, forever vanishing from your sight.

8 Years later

A young woman was standing in the basement of Portland Row. She was dressed in a beautiful long white dressed, the veil had she taken off when they got home.

Now she was nervously turning the box made of silver-glass in her hands. Inside laid a ring, which once had adorned the finger of her best friend. But Lucy’s friend was dead, while Lucy was alive. Alive to marry the guy, she loved. Holding her breath, Lucy slowly opened the box. The ring inside was ice-cold, she could feel the joy and love the wearer had felt, when she was still alive. Lucy didn’t have to wait long. Not shortly after releasing the ring out of his jail, the ghostly figure of her best friend appeared. She emitted soft golden light, while she floated over the floor. Lucy knew that her friend wasn’t a Type 3 ghost, she couldn't hold a conversation. But she had to do it anyway.

“I lied, I love you too”, whispered the ghost over and over again, forever frozen in time. Lucy never had the heart to tell Lockwood what she was saying, and after some time Lockwood had taken the ring out of the box less and less often until he didn't do it at all anymore.

“Thank you for letting him go”, Lucy told the ghost of her best friend, even if she couldn’t understand, what Lucy was saying. “He is happy again, all thanks to you.”

If Lockwood had had his way eight years ago, Lucy would have lost both of her best friends.

“I will never forget you; we will never forget you!”

It was as if Lucy had spoken a magic word. Without having to put the ring back in the box, her best friend's ghost disappeared forever, finally at peace.

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood & co fanfic #lockwood netflix #lockwood x reader #fanfic #orpheuswood #lucy carlyle #locklyle

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gaylittlewizardcat · 5 months

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mistoffelees for the ask game!

My favorite guy thank u :>

First impression

I don’t remember exactly, but something like gifted kid who is kind of scared of his powers, and very, very desperate for approval. Outside of headcanons my impression was more “omg he’s so good at dancing and his design is so neat!” which hasn’t changed pretty much at all

Impression now

No longer scared of his magic or desperate for approval (at least not as much) and also a guy in his 30s who is a lesbian. There’s definitely some gender stuff going on there. Less gifted kid vibes and more ex-protege who’s kind of over it vibes. I think the way I see him now is basically just a grown up version of my first impression of him lol

Favorite moment

His spins in the middle of the Jellicle Ball, just look at him go!!!

Idea for a story

I think Misto wasn’t born in the Junkyard, and I’ve had some ideas about his initial arrival and how he eventually becomes part of the clowder

Unpopular opinion

To me, he’s not exclusively attracted to men, and I don’t even think he has a preference for men. I do think that he thought he only liked men as a teen, but later came to the conclusion that he likes people regardless of gender. I think the vagueness of “queer” fits him really well

Favorite relationship

Basically a tie between monochromatic siblings and cassoffelees. I love both so much, but I think Victoria wins in the end cause their friendship is just so important to me

Favorite headcanon

Mute Misto my beloved <3 I will never shut up about mute Misto <3

#thank you for the ask :]#I had so much trouble summarizing my impressions of him #it’s so clear in my head but the words weren’t wording #cats the musical #mistoffelees #jellicle answers

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citricacidprince · 8 months

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Thinking about Psychonauts and how much I love the Aquato family once again

They mean the world to me your honor

#They are a strange little family with so many issues and generational trauma and YET they still LOVE EACHOTHER #DO YOU KNOW HOW IMPORTANT THAT IS TO ME???#Nona; Augustus; Donatella; Dion; Frazie; Rasputin; Mirtala; Queepie-#I love you all and I owe you my life #DION AND DONATELLA ESPECIALLY; Y’ALL GET SO MUCH HATE FOR HAVING UNDERSTANDABLE NEGATIVE EMOTIONS AND IT DRIVES ME UP THE WALL :(#Aquatos get behind me; I’ll protect you from the people who think you abuse Raz and should just get adopted by Sasha and Milla #that’s a bad take and they should feel bad. like; he can still see Sasha and Milla and alternate parental figures; that’s fine-#But Raz; CANONICALLY; would NEVER give up his family; EVER #That boy would force everyone to have a heart on heart with him until everything is better because he DOES that in the GAME #When you talk to you family in Psychonauts 2 you can tell how much he loves them and how much they love him; even if it’s strained at the-#moment from how stressful the past THREE DAYS have been #YES EVEN DION AND DONATELLA #They love Raz so much!!! They’re both just going through it™️ atm and need time to clear their head: remember; everything that has happened-#has been in the span of 3 DAYS and their whole lives have been completely flipped upside down #I think they’re allowed to be upset; in fact; it would be weird if they weren’t #sorry this is word garbage I just love that family so much it makes me wanna drink paint #prince rambles in this chilies tonight #aquato family #psychonauts aquatos #psychonauts 2 #psychonauts

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azzibuckets · 5 hours

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Paper Rings [Part 2 | Paige Bueckers]

Paige Bueckers x fem!reader

summary/an: part 2 of the paper rings series… gonna be jumping around the timeline so bear with me

warnings: partying, drinking, angst

word count: 1.1k

part 1

CURRENT DAY

You’ve been trying to avoid Paige’s gaze all night, but it was hard when you could feel her stare practically burning into the side of your face.

The room was getting suffocating, with sweaty guys jostling back and forth as they danced, flinging their damp hair back and forth. The heavy thumping of the music combined with the pungent smell of spilled alcohol was giving you a headache, and all you wanted to do was go home. But tonight you’d promised Azzi that you’d be the designated driver - a decision you were now severely regretting - and now you were stuck here in the din of yet another rambunctious college party.

“I’m gonna go take a breather outside,” you yelled in Azzi’s ear. She looked at you confused, not hearing a word over the grating music. After attempting to signal to her with hand gestures but still being unable to get the message across, you heaved a sigh and gave up, beginning to push your way through clammy bodies to get away from the sickening smell and noise.

Once outside, you breathed a sigh of relief once the fresh air hit your face, drying the sweat collecting at the nape of your neck. You found your way to a nearby patch of grass and sat down, resisting the urge to lie down all the way and take a much needed nap in the soft grass.

“Tired?”

A familiar voice floated out uncertainly from behind you, and you stiffened. All the peace in your body from escaping the party immediately vanished.

Without invitation, Paige plopped down next to you with a sigh. Her knee knocked yours on the way down, and you straightened your legs, trying to ignore the electric feeling of feeling her skin on yours for the first time in months.

You looked away from her. “Aren’t you supported to be taking a girl home right now?”

You hated the whine in your tone, how blatantly jealous you sounded. Yet you couldn’t erase the images from earlier from your mind. Yes, you’d been avoiding making eye contact with Paige all night, but that didn’t stop you from stealing looks as she flirted with every girl she came across. Typical Paige.

“Don’t say that shit.” Paige’s voice was rough and aggressive, taking you aback. Noticing how you went rigid, she cleared her throat. “‘M sorry,” she said in a more gentle tone. “It’s been a rough night.”

“Me too, so I’d appreciate it if you left me alone.”

“You still hate me?” Paige kept her voice light, with the corners of her mouth upturned, but you could sense her seriousness behind the mask. She was asking a real question, and she wanted to know the real answer.

“My ex best friend who slept with me then decided to ghost me after? Of course not,” you bit back. The tension between you two was strong, almost crackling at this point, and you didn’t know if you wanted to choke her or kiss her.

I felt her hand slide down and touch my wrist, but I kept my gaze focused straight ahead, refusing to give in. When we sat there in silence for a few more moments, with me refusing to look at her, she leaned forward and grabbed my elbow. Her other hand went to my chin, turning my head so that we were now facing each other.

“Please,” she whispered. Her eyes - have they always been this blue? - searched mine. “You never let me explain.” She swallowed hard. “I made a lot of mistakes, and I hate myself for it every day.” You weren’t used to this. Paige, all meek and unsure. For as long as you’d known her, she’d been all ego. She was smart and pretty, and insane at basketball, and she knew that. But now she was begging for forgiveness, something I never thought I’d see.

“You’ve always had a trail of girls following you around,” you told her. “And I didn’t care. Who you messed around with was none of my business.” Her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip, as she braced herself for what you were about to say next. “Until I became one of those girls.” You took a shaky breath before continuing. “And for some stupid reason, I didn’t think I’d become like one of those girls. Because we had history. You were my best friend, for god’s sake.”

You looked away. These were words you didn’t want to say, because they made you look pathetic. They showed how desperate you were, how you spent years pining after someone who never loved you in that way. But they were words Paige needed to hear. “I thought our friendship meant something. I loved you so much.” You were choking back sobs now, as memories resurfaced. God, it had been so long. Why were you not over it yet?

Paige’s eyes were shining now, and she rapidly blinked. She was trying to fight the tears away, and also resisting the urge to burst out and explain herself. You appreciated the fact that she was taking the time and effort to listen to you, though.

“But you took my virginity. You slept with me-,”you were crying now, tears falling down your face. Swiping at your cheeks with the sleeves of your sweater, you had to force the last words through. “And then you left. Like our three years of friendship was all just to get in my pants.”

The guilt in Paige’s eyes was almost enough for you to reach over and touch her, and assure her that everything would be okay. But you forced yourself to remember the pain, the fresh heartbreak of a year ago. Paige opened her mouth to respond, but suddenly you both heard a voice call your name.

“Y/N! Where are youuuuuu?”

Both of you turned around, spotting a completely washed Azzi. She swayed in her spot a moment before she laid eyes on the pair of you. Her face lit up, and she stumbled her way over to you. “I never thought I’d see you guys talk again,” she grinned enthustically, as if seeing you two within 5 feet of each other was the highlight of her night. “I knew you guys would talk it out!”

Paige toed the ground with the tip of her shoe. “Not really,” she mumbled. You took this opportunity of her looking away to really study her. Paige’s blonde hair was messy, but in a natural way that tumbled over her shoulders. She was wearing a white skin tight crop top that traced her chest and showed off her abdomen. Her cargo pants hung dangerously low on her hips, with the top of her boxers peeking out.

You bit your lip and dragged your gaze away, focusing your attention back on Azzi, who was now staring dreamily at the stars. Oh boy. “Let’s get you home, sweetheart,” you urged gently. You grabbed her elbow and dragged her along with you to the lot, refusing to look back.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x you #uconnwbb #wbb #wcbb #huskies #uconn

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alexthetrashyracoon · 1 month

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Simon was a light sleeper, he had to in his line of work, but he wasn’t just a light sleeper when he was on duty, but at home too.

So when one night he was woken by a clanging down in the kitchen, Simon sat straight in bed, clear headed and focused on locations the reason for that noise.

A small smile slipped on his face, someone was stupid enough to break into his home, must be Simon’s lucky day.

“Stay here, I’ll take care…” He whispered into the dark room, hand patting the space next to him only to find it cold.

You weren’t there.

Simon’s blood froze.

The smile was gone.

His mind ran with a million questions at the same time. Did something happen to you? Were you in danger?

Without hesitation he slipped out of bed and out of the room.

He searched the guest rooms but found everything empty and quiet. So Simon sneaked downstairs, seeing lights on in the kitchen.

To be honest, Simon shouldn’t be surprised. He should absolutely not be surprised to look at the clock on the wall to see the time being three in the morning and you, sitting on the counter, in one of his shirts and your unicorn slippers on while snacking on a freshly opened bag of shredded cheese.

“And here I thought someone broke into our home.” Simon announced his presence and stepped next to you, realizing that you had been daydreaming while eating.

“Damn, don’t scare me, Si!” You complain and cough harshly as you felt some shredded cheese making its way down your windpipe.

He laughed and patted your back, helping you to take a deep breath again. “Sorry, sweets. Like I said, thought we get robbed. What happened that caused me to wake up? Usually you’re quite as a mouse eating your shredded cheese.”

“You left the salad bowl out, I haven’t seen it, ran into it with my fat ass. Sorry for waking you. Know how much you love your sleep.” You mumbled and leaned against his side.

“Mhm… but not as much as eating shredded cheese with you at three in the morning.” Simon grinned and stole the bag of cheese from your hands. “That’s for waking me.” He ate half the bag before handing it back to you. “And that’s for making me think we were getting robbed.”

He stole a sweet kiss from your lips when you were closing the bag of cheese, grinning when you accidentally let it fall to the ground in surprise.

If anyone asks where I was, five words, Genshin Impact and Honkai Star Rail. Sorry <3

#cod x gn!reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #cod mwii #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #cod mw2 #cod x you #alex writes

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yuwuta · 4 months

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RODEO STATION, 1 — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

A collection of you and Megumi, through the years, through Gojo’s eyes.

content, warnings: friends to lovers, fluff, sort of canon-adjacent, satoru adopts megumi and tsumiki, reader has a cursed technique but it’s not mentioned in depth here, really just you and megumi falling in love and gojo watching

word count: 1.1k

part i: first years, jujutsu tech. fits in the timeline around when nobara first joins the class

When Satoru first finds him, Megumi has two conditions. First, that Tsumiki would be kept safe and happy, and far away from the Zenin clan if they weren’t going to be good to her—safe and far away from all jujutsu society if Gojo could help it; and that she would never have to worry about feeding herself or Megumi ever again. Satoru agreed right away, he would have done that without the request.

For his second condition, an eight year old Megumi looked Satoru straight in the eye and told him that he would absolutely not be separated from you. Satoru thought it was cute, sweet, in the bratty, and naive but determined kind of way that seemed to be everything that kid stood for, and Satoru couldn’t fault him for it. Megumi’s evident childlike adoration of you aside, Satoru saw potential in you, too, so he accepted Megumi’s conditions, happy to welcome the two of you to the world of sorcery.

It’s not until a week before you both start at Jujutsu Tech, that Satoru really asks Megumi why he wants you here (never mind the fact that you had already also made up your mind about being a sorcerer, and if there is anything that Satoru has learned about you in the past decade, it’s that: one, you have the magical ability to make Megumi do anything you say; and two, you’re incredible persuasive and very stubborn). Megumi doesn’t look him in the eye when he answers, fidgeting with his melting ice cream instead when he says, “Well, she saved my life.”

Satoru doesn’t tease when he hears this, only digging his spoon in for a scoop of Megumi’s toffee butter, smiling to himself when the cold hits his tongue, because he’d heard the message loud and clear: Megumi believes he owes you his life, and to keep yours protected, he wants you by his side.

Satoru quickly learns that Megumi truly has his work cut out for him as he watches you burst through a top-floor window of a high-rise building, falling carelessly with the object of your mission—a special-grade cursed object—clutched in your grasp. Second later, there’s a loud explosion, as the ugly head of a large cursed falls limp in the hole in the broken glass that you’d left behind. Satoru chuckles when he sees you smile, and the faint cheer of weeeeeeeee as you fall. He knew you were wild and stubborn by the way you bossed Megumi around without a care, but seeing you in action proved that you were also in your own league of crazy, a fantastic sorceress in the making.

To his left, Yuuji gapes wildly as he looks up, shielding his eyes with his hand, and then flinching back when Nobara bursts through the ground floor door, not without a nail going flying into the curse that had been chasing her. She looks angry, then wide eyed, then up to where Yuuji and Megumi were also staring and starts squealing alongside him.

“Gojo-sensei, what are you standing there smiling about—do something!” Nobara shouts, pointing an accusatory finger up in the air at your flying body.

Yuuji gasps again, like he’d just figured out the consequence of you falling from a building, spewing on his own cries, “Hey, seriously, what the hell are we doing—she can’t fly,” he shouts, turning to shake his sensei, then pausing, “Wait, Fushiguro, can she fly? You know her.”

“Idiot,” Nobara spits, “If she could fly then she’d be flying, not falling.”

“Then why aren’t we doing any—you know what, I think I can catch her,” Yuuji boasts, rolling up his sleeves, prepared to position himself underneath your descending body, and that’s when Satoru steps in, extending an arm in front of his students.

“You all worry too much,” he smiles, lifting his blindfold just enough to look the pair in the eye, and tilt his head up slightly, “Besides, Megumi’s handled it.”

Three heads turn back up to the sky, where you’re no longer in freefall, instead have had your shoulders snatched by Nue’s talons. You’ve still got that wild smile on your face, wider now as you descend much more elegantly via Megumi’s shikigami. Nobara and Yuuji wince as Nue’s wings flap widely when you’re set on the ground. You shift the box with the cursed object to one hand, reaching your free one around to pet the bird’s feathers. It crows happily, and Satoru snickers, much to Megumi’s dismay. You always did treat his shikigami like pets.

“Hey, you’re okay!” Yuuji cheers, eyes sparkling, “What’s in the box? A sword—actually, I don’t want to know. If it’s another finger, keep it away from me.”

“Hand it here,” Nobara demands. You’re happy to hand over the box and have another hand available for petting Nue.

Satoru watches fondly as Yuuji and Nobara fuss over the box. They should probably exercise more caution, but he’s there, so the worst can’t happen. Meanwhile, you step closer to Megumi with Nue fluttering behind you.

“You’re the one who told me there would be no need to get involved,” Megumi says, voice soft, hands falling comfortably at his side.

“I said that you wouldn’t have to get involved with the curses,” you correct, standing on your tiptoes to nuzzles your head into the bird’s feathers, “I said nothing about not getting involved with me.”

Satoru does his best not to choke out a loud laugh as Megumi’s face becomes increasingly pink when you reach forward to pinch his cheeks, his grumbling drowned in the sound of Yuuji and Nobara’s bickering. Satory sighs, content. He cares for all his students, but there’s a certain weight lifted on his shoulders knowing that when it came to you, there was truly nothing to worry about—Megumi would always be there for you. Honestly, he thinks Megumi might fight him to protect you if it came down to it.

That thought does bring an audible chuckle to his lips, Megumi’s pinched expression calling to him, “What are you laughing about?”

To which Satoru only hums, sticking his hands in his pockets. Megumi’s eyebrows furrow deeper, but it’s quickly dissolved when you catch his attention again, saying your farewells to Nue before giving Megumi the okay to let him recede into his shadows.

“Oh, nothing,” Satoru chirps, turning to lead the group back to Ichiji’s car, “Come on, who’s still up for revolving sushi!”

Cheers follow him as the veil dispels. You question Yuuji about whether or not you think the restaurant will have grilled eel, and Nobara pretends to throw up, arguing that eel is the worst, that you all should stick to hand rolls instead. Megumi stays quiet, walking on your outside, and humming along with all of your suggestions, and Satoru can’t help but wonder whether or not you knew that Nue had been out from the moment you’d stepped in the building.

Honestly, he thinks Megumi might win that fight—might win any fight if it meant being with you.

#jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk smut #jjk imagines #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi smut #megumi fluff #jjk scenarios #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru #megumi fushiguro x reader #this isn't a gojo x reader thing but he thinks very very fondly of you and megumi :((#jjk smau #jjk drabbles #jjk headcanons #jjk fanfic

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kitkatscabinet · 6 months

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Nothing fucks with my baby

Simon Riley x wife reader

Summary: Simon is the Earth orbiting your sun and he'll do anything to keep you safe and happy, even if that means resorting to bloody means.

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: attempted non-con (not by Simon)

@ghosts-cyphera for you pookie, hope you enjoy!

Eight months. It’s been eight long, tortuous months since Simon saw you in person. Eight months of living off brief Skype calls interrupted by work schedules and shitty internet cutting out mid-call, an age since he’s touched you. Since he’s breathed in your scent and cradled you against his muscular chest, since he’s tasted you. Pictures of you weren’t enough, even if you’d gifted him a set of delectable Polaroids showcasing your gorgeous body decorated with black and white lingerie.

Long deployments had never bothered him, not until you’d become the central part of his life. Simon was the Earth, orbiting your sun reverently and fervently. He’d worship you on his knees for eternity if that’s what you desired.

His appetite for you has always been ravenous, but his need for you has been greatly nourished after months of no contact. The door to your shared home swings open with a bang, the anticipation coursing through his veins diminishing his control in a way he knows you’ll scold him for. His bag is dropped carelessly in the foyer as he stalks through the space, a man on a mission to find you. Not even the weary exhaustion after months of shit sleep and shared communal spaces would deter him from his mission.

You’re not in your home office or the bedroom and Simon’s frustration simmers under his skin as he marches straight back out the door. It’s only the knowledge that you’ll be devastated to have missed his surprise homecoming that tempers his annoyance.

Ghost is beyond irritated by the time he arrives at your work, not necessarily at you, he knows how seriously you take your career, it’s one of the reasons he was so drawn to you. Once some lowly private had made a snide remark about you being the breadwinner, scoffing at Simon for letting his wife ‘emasculate’ him like that. It was only Price playing damage control that kept him from a dishonourable discharge that day. He had no regrets, especially after the incident taught people to keep your name out of their mouths.

It’s late, well past working business hours when he keys into the building using the code you’d given specially for him. So it shouldn’t surprise him how empty it is, most of the lights turned off as he made his way to your office, but Simon hadn’t survived over a decade in the military without learning to trust his gut. A distinct uneasiness settles in his body, narrowed eyes surveying the space for anything out of the ordinary as he increases his pace to get to you.

The light in your office is on, the door is left open carelessly and gives Simon a clear view of the sight of you bent over your desk trying not to cry as a man holds a gun to your head and fumbles with your sleek dress pants. Simon thought he knew rage, but any anger he’s ever felt is drowned in comparison to the sheer righteous fury that alights his veins.

He closes the gap in record time, red filtering out the corners of his vision and spraying over his knuckles as he rips the interloper away and viciously lays into him. Any slurred words pleading for mercy are ignored and shut down as Simon’s fist renders the man’s mouth an inoperable bloody mess.

His arm aches furiously by the time he pulls back, chest heaving with breaths that have long since been silenced from the scumbag that now lay dead on the floor of your office. It’s the sound of your shaky sobs that pulls Simon back from the brink, immediately darting towards you, shaky hands stained with blood cradling you against his bulk gently.

He’s vibrating with an explosive cocktail of fury, fear, outrage and relief. You press yourself tighter against his chest like you’re trying to burrow into the safety of his ribcage. Simon can’t bring himself to speak, mouth dry and tongue heavy as he buries his face into the top of your head. The silence is broken by the shaky inhales of your rattling breaths and sobs.

All too soon you’re pulling away, even when he fights to keep you safe and sound against his chest. “Simon? What… what’s going to happen with-” You try and turn your gaze towards the corpse staining your carpet but Simon prevents you with a hand grasping your jaw, preventing you from getting a glimpse at the carnage.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head darling, I’ll take care of it. But first, let's get you home yeah?” He walks you from the building to your car with a supportive arm wrapped around your shoulders, tucking you against his side before sliding you into the passenger seat of your car. It’s a testament to how shaken you are that you don’t protest, remaining silent and clutching the hand that grasps your thigh like a lifeline.

It doesn’t take long to tuck you into bed, wrapping you tightly in the blanket like it will protect you from the horrors of the outside world. The adrenaline had faded from your body making way for the exhaustion. Simon doesn’t leave your side until he’s sure the clutches of sleep have pulled you under, and even then, it's with extreme hesitation that he stands and leaves the bedroom, reaching for his phone to make a call.

Luckily, you don’t wake even once in the hours that follow as he waits for news of the cleanup. He spends that time alternating between checking in on you, watching you breathe peacefully and pacing the linoleum floors that you’d insisted on.

A single knock on the front door pulls him from the spiral of thoughts that threatened to pull him further and further into darkness. He opens the door to an unimpressed Price, who pushes his way in with Gaz and Soap trailing after. Expectantly he stares at them, watching as Price lights a cigar and takes a long drag.

“It’s done. Did you have to make such a mess though son?” It’s an innocuous enough comment but one that raises Ghost’s hackles anyway and he shoots a venomous glare at his captain that would never have been acceptable in any other circumstances. His shoulders tense and it takes everything in him to keep his voice somewhat level.

“That fucker laid his hands on my wife!” He inhaled shakily as he remembered what he’d almost been too slow to prevent, unable to prevent the rise of volume as he yelled at his captain, “My wife! He’s lucky I didn’t paint the room with his insides!” The baritone of his booming snarl is loud enough that even Soap flinches slightly with widened eyes.

There’s a tense silence but his captain nods, something like approval in his gaze before his eyes slide towards the right and Simon turns just in time to witness you call his name, voice hoarse with sleep and eyes red from tears.

He crosses the space and curls you against him in record time, nonchalantly throwing a dismissive wave towards his team who simply nod in understanding and file back outside. “Were those the boys? You didn’t have to kick them out” you murmured though Simon was already hushing you, leading you back to bed with a firm hand on the small of your back.

“Don’t worry ‘bout them lovie, they were leavin’ anyway” he waved away your concerns, finally kicking off his shoes, trapping you in his arms and pulling you down onto the mattress. You squeak at his actions, giggling as his stubble tickles the skin of your neck.

Despite how pent-up and desperate for your touch he is, Simon makes no move to escalate the situation, settling you in his arms and simply breathing you in. Neither of you speak about the earlier incident, not willing to shatter the peace. Though Simon lets out the occasional hum when your hands trace gentle circles over his heart, focusing on the steady beat of his pulse beneath your palm.

Inevitably the lingering emotions of the day would have to be dealt with, but not yet, Simon would allow himself to relish in the peace just a little longer.

#x reader #cod mw x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #kat’s writing #cod simon riley #simon riley

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lemonlover1110 · 1 month

Text

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀…

Sukuna

Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

Summary: Sukuna comes to terms with the idea of having a daughter with you.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, double penetration, creampie, pregnancy, slightly ooc but still a misogynist, fluff at the end

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“What the hell are you doing?” Sukuna squints his eyes, looking down at you as you knit something for your baby girl. There’s no way of actually knowing the sex of your baby, but something tells you that you’re expecting a daughter. Sukuna negates the thought, assuring you that you’re carrying a son. He can’t possibly have a daughter, he’s always saying something along those lines.

“Just making a little something for our child.” You inform him, and Sukuna frowns. Your child is not going to wear something so pink because they’ll be a boy, Sukuna is sure of it. He snatches the cloth out of your hand and tosses it.

“Why pink? Are you saying we’re having a girl?” Sukuna questions, and you cross your arms. You look up at your husband, mad that he's tossed your hard work to the side.

“You have pink hair, Suku… Are you a girl?” You cock your eyebrow, and he’s not amused. He crosses both pairs of arms, rolling his eyes. Maybe he shouldn’t associate colors with a certain gender because you are right, he does have pink hair… But he also knows that you’re making a pink blanket because you think you’re having a girl.

“Make a blue one.” He orders, and you glare at him. You shake your head in response, you’re not making a blue one. He grits his teeth, grabbing the blanket that he just tossed to the side and shredding your hard work to pieces.

“Keep an eye open tonight, because when you least expect it, I’ll strangle you.” You warn him, and you’re dead serious. It’s clear that you’re carrying his child, you’ve never threatened to kill him before.

“If you even come close to it, I think I’ll fall more in love with you.” He chuckles, walking away, leaving you alone with your own anger. You let out a yell, cursing at him because the twinge of fear that you had for him completely faded a couple of months ago.

He holds no threat to you anymore. Sukuna wouldn’t have done anything to you anyway, since he hates that he loves you so dearly, but the realization that you carry his child and he’ll do no harm to you really gives you much more power and comfort. Sukuna finds humor in a very nonthreatening person, threatening to do something to him; especially when he knows that you can barely lift yourself up anymore.

He knows that you won’t even come close to succeeding in hurting him, and he laughs in amusement at the mere thought. But you’ll get him back, you know you will.

“I thought we were going to spend the day together?” Sukuna asks as he watches you get ready to go out. You never invited him anywhere, so he was shocked to hear that you weren’t at home. He isn’t well liked in public, there’s just something about being huge, having four arms and being extremely scary that people don’t like. Sukuna can kill anyone without a second thought.

“I thought so too before someone ruined the blanket that I was making for my daughter… So I had to get the materials to make it again.” You tell him, and Sukuna nearly gasps when you drop the d word. You’ve always refused to call the baby your daughter since you have no idea what the sex is, but it seems like you use it to piss him off. You click your tongue when you notice his reaction, “What? You’re so overdramatic. You’ve killed for fuck’s sake, why is saying daughter so scary to you.”

“Because we’re having a son!” He yells, getting defensive about it. You don’t understand why he gets upset at the mere suggestion that he’s having a daughter. Before you got pregnant, Sukuna never seemed to care about the gender of a hypothetical baby– Although you shouldn’t be shocked since your husband isn’t exactly the most fair when it comes to different sexes… Sukuna is a misogynist, that’s what you’re trying to get at. He treats all humans with the same disdain, but particularly women. It seems that you’ve forgotten because he doesn’t treat you the same way he treats everyone else.

“Sukuna, we’re having a daughter.” You reiterate, and you watch his eye twitch. You’re doing it to piss him off, he knows it, yet it’s working. “You wanted a baby, Sukuna. You knew there was no guarantee that you’d be having a son, but you still decided that you wanted one. You can’t cry about having a daughter.”

Sukuna takes a deep breath, surprisingly managing his anger well. He decides to leave the room, leaving you alone to do whatever the hell you want. You fuel his anger even more, yelling at him, “And don’t come back until you fix your attitude!”

You stare off into the distance, your hand resting on your bump. You begin to wonder what Sukuna will actually do, and you can’t do anything but hope that he’ll come around to the idea because you know Sukuna. He isn’t good whatsoever, he won’t hesitate to hurt her, even if she’s his own flesh and blood. You’re not sure you could stay by his side if he were to do anything, but you wouldn’t really have any other option either.

You decide to go to sleep, because thinking about it further won’t really help you in any way. You delude yourself, thinking that he’ll come around to the idea.

A large pair of arms wrap around you, waking you up from your slumber. Sukuna does it to try and be romantic, but he nearly suffocates you. You slap his arm, telling him, “Loosen the grip–”

He loosens his grip, which lets you know that he wasn’t trying to kill you. Thankfully. Sukuna would never do anything to harm you, but sometimes you swear you don’t know him much. It’s very rare when you get a heart to heart with Sukuna where he actually talks about him, he usually prefers to listen to listen, and to threaten anyone in the stories that offend you in the slightest.

“Can I say something without you getting mad?” You begin, still half asleep. Sukuna furrows his brows. Due to his lack of answer, you decide to speak, “You’re overreacting.”

“I just don’t know what I’d do with a daughter.” He confesses. He doesn’t know how he’d handle her, how to treat her fairly, how he would– He doesn’t know how he would do anything. He doesn’t know what being a woman entails so he won’t know how to teach her anything. He wants to teach her how to do everything.

“Everything you’d do with a son.” You reply. You really doubt that your child will be raised to have great morals, so there’s no point in really raising them differently. “Sukuna, how will it be different?”

“How will it not be different?” He sounds offended. There’s nothing similar between men and women. Sukuna’s hands go to your bump, his hand caressing it. “But for my heir, I guess I can make an exception.”

“Is that your way of telling me that you won’t make a fuss over the possibility of having a daughter?” You ask him, and his silence gives you an answer. Yes, Sukuna is fine with it, as fine as he can be at least.

His hand goes under your nightgown, caressing your thighs. You feel Sukuna kiss the back of your neck, and you squeeze your thighs, his large hand stuck between them. The man rarely touches you nowadays, seeing you as fragile as ever. You don’t know about the sudden change, but you certainly don’t mind.

“What changed in you?” You ask him as his hand goes up to your panties. He pushes them to the side because last time he tore something of yours, you got too mad at him so he’d rather not risk it. His fingers run through your folds before going to your clit, and you bite your bottom lip due to pure excitement.

“Was thinking about how I’d be nothing without you.” He confesses, letting you know that he didn’t come to terms with having a daughter– Sukuna is a man that fears nothing, at least that’s what you thought up until now. He fears losing you. It’s your issue… You’ve never paid attention to the love in his eyes when he speaks to you or about you. Sometimes you don’t realize just how much you mean to him. “Then I remembered how gorgeous you look carrying our son.”

“If you say that again I’ll–” You begin but Sukuna is two steps ahead of you. He pushes two large fingers inside of you. You can’t help but moan, covering your mouth immediately. One of his hands pulls your hand away, even in the dark he knows what you do. After all, you’re not just getting to know him, but he’s getting to know you too.

“Did I tell you to be fucking quiet?” He asks through gritted teeth. You have to be quiet at other times, like when the baby gets here and you risk waking them up. Now, if any of the servants hear, that’s their fucking problem. “Be loud, my love. Remind everyone who you belong to.”

“They know.” You tell him, which is quickly cut off by a moan as his fingers move faster. You feel his thumb graze your asshole, teasing you before he pushes it in. “Suku–”

“You’re not going to be able to stay quiet.” He ends up laughing. You never do because he’s just too much for you to handle. He curves his fingers so they hit your sweet spot. You shut your eyes, quickly succumbing to pleasure. You’ve missed this feeling so much, and he refuses to give it to you.

Sukuna loves when you turn into putty by his touch. It takes practically nothing to work you up, and you begin to squeeze around him. He smirks, knowing that it takes nothing for you to be practically screaming his name. Sukuna speaks into your ear, “Already so excited for me? Do you want more?”

“I need more.” Your voice sounds so demanding and Sukuna laughs. Another hand goes under your nightgown, his fingers focusing on your clit. You loudly moan his name as it all gets too much for you to handle.

“Is it too much?” He mocks you as your orgasm builds up, until you finally reach your peak, your legs shaking. Sukuna takes his fingers out, shoving the fingers that were in your cunt into your mouth, making you gag.

Sukuna lights a candle, providing some light in the room. You sit up, getting on top of him, undoing his robe. Your body yearns for more, and he smirks since he knows it. You lean down, your lips going on his, your tongue entering his mouth and pressing against his own. When you pull away from the kiss, you mutter, “I’ve missed you.”

You raise yourself, aligning the cock on the top with your pussy before slowly pushing yourself down on it. You take a moment to adjust to him since it’s been a while since the last time you’ve fucked her. You begin to bounce on him, and Sukuna spits in his palm, grabbing the cock on the bottom and teasing your asshole with the tip.

Sukuna holds you down when he begins to push the other tip in your asshole. Even though you’re expecting a child together, you’re still loud when he fills both of your holes. It’s too much for you to handle at first, but throughout the time you get used to it.

“Tight little cunt–” He groans, and he never thought that he of all people would end up touch deprived. But then he got too scared to hurt you in any way when you knew you were expecting, so he stuck to… Nothing. To suppress his dirty thoughts.

“Move.” You order, too tired to continue. Sukuna begins to move for you, thrusting slowly in and out of you. He continues at the pace you had set.

“Is it good? You’re making a fucking mess.” He says as he picks up speed. You throw your head back, one hand going down to play with your clit as he thrusts in and out of you.

“It’s so fucking good–” You answer. You’ve been needing this every single fucking night, and you’re lucky to be receiving it now. He’s finally giving into your cravings.

“You just love being filled up like a little slut, don’t you?” Sukuna’s hand goes up from your bump to your mouth, shoving two fingers into your mouth again. He feels the vibration of your moans through your tongue before you begin to twirl your tongue around his fingers.

Sukuna loves the way you take in his cocks, smiling at you at how well you take him– Of course he wouldn’t tell you though. Your hands go to his chest, using it for support as well as subconsciously digging your nails into his skin. It stings for him, but he can’t help but love it.

Sukuna does you a favor, his fingers rubbing your clit. Your eyes roll to the back of your head,

A second orgasm overtaking you. Sukuna feels you squeezing on both of his cocks, feeling himself get weak.

“Suku–” You loudly moan as you reach your second orgasm. Sukuna mocks you for it.

“What? Can’t handle it?” He asks, your nails digging deeper into his skin. He’s losing control, his thrusts getting sloppy. It’s been so long since the last time he did this– And when he finishes, he fills both of your holes with so much cum, and you swear you’re in heaven because there is no better feeling than this.

When he takes his cocks out, so much cum drips out of you. You end up falling on his chest, him wrapping a pair of large arms around you while another fixes your clothes.

“This is a nice way to apologize for misbehaving.” You comment, and Sukuna scoffs.

“Who said I was apologizing?” Sukuna is frowning, and you lightly smack his face which pisses him off more. He holds your hands so you don’t try to do anything more with them.

“I’ll take it as an apology.” You tell him. Sukuna wants to laugh, but he manages to keep a poker face. He grabs you up by your hair, putting his lips on yours.

“It was not an apology, woman. Shut your mouth.”

Bonus:

You swear that hell is freezing over because what the hell is the scene you’re witnessing. You’ve never seen Sukuna like this… You don’t think you are supposed to see him like this.

“Who’s a headstrong girl?” Sukuna is putting on a baby voice for fuck’s sake. For a daughter that he didn’t want. Your baby girl laughs, and he falls in love all over again. She’s just so fucking perfect– With her little eyes, her little nose, her little mouth, her four little arms, her soft pink hair. She’s everything to him.

“Do you need anything, Sukuna?” You approach them, but Sukuna pays little attention to you. He keeps looking down at his daughter who lays on your bed. She’s in need of a nap but Sukuna doesn’t like putting her to bed because she’s boring then.

“Yeah, how do I order another one of these?” He asks, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“Of what?” You respond, wondering what the hell he talks about.

“Another daughter.”

#ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #jjk sukuna #sukuna smut #jujutsu sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #ryoumen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna ryoumen smut #sukuna x reader smut

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