#no one knows where they keep getting all these flowers from
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Saddle Up, Sweetheart
18+ 3k ghoul x f!reader. cunnilingus/face sitting, overstim, pet names, clothed/naked sex, creampie. gif credit. prompt list. written for this ask. thank you! 🖤
The Ghoul—Cooper, as you know him now—does not make himself an easy man to get to know. He was harsh with you from the start, one of the crankiest old bastards you’ve ever met. An accomplishment, given your life in the slums. He’s dismissive, angry that you even want to know him, and downright mean most days.
And yet you became fascinated with him.
It was ages before you were able to hold decent conversations, and longer than that before you had a name for him. Still, you keep digging. He intrigues you more than anyone else ever has, and despite his sour attitude, he keeps coming back.
"You won't like what y'find," he told you one day. You knew then you were wearing him down with your persistence.
"What scares you more: the idea that I won't, or the possibility that I will?" You'd asked.
He laughed. "Y'don't scare me, sugar."
You smiled. "Maybe I should."
Cooper started to look at you differently from then on. There had been a sense before that he was observing you as something ephemeral, a flower bud he was waiting to see bloom and die away as quickly as you'd appeared.
Once you made it clear you weren't going anywhere, the invisible walls between you began to fall away. You feel his gaze lingering on you when he thinks you aren't paying attention. You watch him in turn, holding his gaze whenever he catches you.
"Eye contact like that'll get'cha killed someday. Predators take it as a challenge," he tells you, adjusting the holster on his thigh.
"Is that what you are?" You ask from where you’re leaning against the wall, arms crossed. You raise your brow, inured to his broody one-liners. "A predator?"
To your surprise, he's the one who closes the distance this time. His footfalls are heavy, his swagger loose. He looms over you, bracing his forearm on the wall behind you. Your heart skips a beat. He rarely ever gets so close.
"I'm the worst kind there is," he says gravely, but you clock his tone for what it is. He's toying with you.
Undeterred, you square your shoulders. "And what kind is that?"
He leans in closer, smelling of oil and gunpowder. "A hungry one," he says, the heat of his breath ghosting your cheek.
Pushing you away hasn't turned you against him. Cornering you won't either. Despite his insistence to the contrary, you're no prey animal. "Well then... I s'pose you ought to have something to eat."
His radiation scarred lips spread slowly into a wicked smile. "Y'offering, sweetcheeks?" He asks, his yellowed teeth parted, poised to take a bite.
You swallow dryly, so keenly aware of the thundering of your own heart, you wonder if he can hear it, too. You tip your head back, jutting your chin out and bringing your lips closer to his.
"You don't scare me, Coop," you whisper, wielding his name like a secret weapon.
He hums, head tilting slowly while his gaze moves down your body in a leisurely calculating sweep. "Well..." He drawls, voice a low rumble from his chest. "Maybe I should."
You're ready for him to do as he's always done and leave you like that, to rile you up and then act as though it was all in your head. You've accepted that Cooper is a man on the run, and he hasn't seen anything in you worth stopping for.
The press of his lips against yours shocks you to your core.
Your arms uncross, hands fumbling to catch hold of his jacket, grabbing him before he can vanish. He responds in kind, cupping your face in the soft worn down leather of his gloves. Your pulse is all the way up in your throat, so wild you’re sure he can taste it when he slips his tongue into your mouth.
His touch isn’t a gradual thing. He’s upon you all at once, forcing your thighs apart with his knee and slotting his thigh between yours, pressing into you until you start to sing for him, those breathy little noises muffled by his devouring kiss. At your hip, you feel the press of his cock gradually filling out beneath the layers of clothing between you.
After so long without meaningful touch, the onslaught is dizzying. You roll your hips, grinding down on his thigh until you feel your underwear clinging wetly to your skin, an exquisite shiver trilling up and down your spine. His lips feel textured and hardened by his condition, but his tongue is hot and smooth, persistently licking into your mouth, determined to feel, to taste.
That hunger drives him from your lips to your jaw, your throat, peppering rough kisses that are as much lips as they are teeth along your neck. “S’your last chance, darlin’. Point of no return,” he tells you, voice coarse. His hand slips between your bodies and starts working your pants open. “Won’t be no comin’ back from this. I’ll ruin you.”
That he would have the audacity to warn you away from the door like this after you’ve been knocking and knocking and knocking is almost laughable. You would laugh if you had enough air in your lungs, but he’s kissed it out of you.
“So ruin me,” you tell him breathlessly. He grazes his teeth over your pulse-point in a way that makes your voice hitch. “I want you.”
The rim of his hat brushes your cheek as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, making a raw noise against your skin. “God damn it,” he says, yanking you from the wall so sharply you gasp. He whirls you around, hands fisted in your shirt, kissing you hard while he walks you backwards, towards the noisy heap of springs and fabric you call a bed.
“Y’outta your fuckin’ mind for that,” he grouses, shoving your pants down off your hips. You don’t disagree, You know how terrifying he should be, what his affliction does to him, to his hunger, but you don’t care. Not when he’s kissing life back into your dull dusty life at the end of the world.
You’re naked by the time he pushes you down onto the bed, standing above you, sunken eyes black with fervor. He unclips the bullet belt strapped across his chest and shrugs out of his coat, tosses his hat up somewhere high on the bed. You start to crawl backwards, but he snatches your ankle and drags you right back to the very edge of the bed.
“Unbuckle me,” he orders, the words all throaty feverish heat that makes your clit throb. You do, eyes flipping back and forth from him to his belt. He watches you all the while, pulling off his gloves with his teeth, dropping them to the ground. You unbutton his pants next, hands so eager they fumble briefly before you make it to his zipper, the hiss of it coming undone drowned out by the thunder of your pulse in your own ears.
Before you get any further, Cooper catches your wrists and hauls you up to your feet, spinning you around and pulling you down over top of him on the bed. He keeps you steady while you straddle his waist, moving his hands from your wrists to your hips. You start to move back, but he cups your ass and pulls you in the opposite direction.
“Saddle up, sweetheart,” he says, licking his lips. “Y’said for me to have somethin’ t’eat. I intend to.”
Oh fuck.
Nodding hazily, you follow his lead until your knees are on either side of his head, your hands braced on the wall behind your bed.
“C’mon now, relax,” he coaxes, urging you down with his grip on your thighs. You settle most of the way down before he yanks you the rest of it, startling a noise out of you that transitions into a low moan at the molten wet slide of his tongue dragging from the bottom of your pussy to your clit, upon which his lips close down and suck.
The sensation is leagues beyond the amateurish grinding, but that session still left you sensitized. The heat of his mouth is so intense it almost burns. His tongue feels just as unreal, thick and dexterous in the way it works you, swirling repetitive patterns on your clit. He drinks from you like you’re an oasis in the desert, swallowing greedy gulps before sinking his tongue into you, fucking it in and out, coaxing more and more thirst quenching wetness from you.
“Ffffuck, oh my God,” you moan, your hands curling into fists on the wall, sliding until your forearms are braced against it instead, your head hanging between them. You wish you had something to grip, something to dig your nails into as his devil’s tongue builds hot pressure inside of you, swelling sensation toward an inevitable explosion.
Cooper is shameless beneath you, devouring without care for mess or noise. Every so often you feel the graze of his teeth and you buck away from him, but you’re no match for his strength and he keeps you held firmly down, wholly at his mercy despite your positions.
Once he’s satisfied that you’re not going to try and escape anymore, he relinquishes his hold on your hip and brings his fingers between your thighs, teasing where you’re wettest with the tip of his finger. With the way he’s sucking your clit you barely notice the initial touch, but he quickly wrings a gasp out of you by sinking his finger in all the way to the knuckle, crooking it wickedly while he rocks it in and out.
It’s simultaneously too much and not enough. He walks you on the knife’s edge of your climax, deftly toeing the line with every slow stroke of his finger and swipe of his tongue. Your stomach clenches up with it, breath catching. He pushes in a second finger, and by the time you feel the third working you open, your legs are shaking uncontrollably. He is feasting on you, humming appreciative little noises between the wet sounds of him eating you out.
A sudden jarring slap to your ass makes your quivering thighs tense up and startles a loud moan out of you. He most definitely smiles against you, fucking you steadily with his fingers.
“You son of a bitch,” you manage to choke out, tears prickling at your eyes from the sheer overwhelm of it all, your breaths growing sharper, more shallow. “I should smother you,” you say, the threat dulled by the thinness of your voice.
He smacks your ass again, harder this time. You decide that’s encouragement to do just that and grind down against his mouth, eagerly meeting every thrust of his fingers until one last good slap tips you over the edge, your orgasm striking you like a bolt of lightning. Your whole body goes tense, and Cooper ruthlessly fucks and licks you through it, sucking on your clit as it pulses and pulses and pulses through what feels like the longest climax of your life.
“Enough,” you moan weakly, pushing yourself from the wall on trembling arms. His fingers have slipped free, but he’s still drinking you down, holding your thighs in a vice grip. You can’t stop shaking, the burn of pleasure beginning to feel like the most exquisite pain. “C-Coop, enough, I can’t–you fucker,” you gasp, jolting in his grip when he nips at your clit.
He finally lets you up, easing you down with two hands firmly on your ass. You slide back until you’re straddling his waist, hands braced on his chest while you catch your breath. He doesn’t give you much time, knocking you down into his lap as he sits up. He takes your face in his hands and kisses your own taste into your mouth, giving a throaty little rumble.
“I decide when you’ve had enough,” he says, dropping one hand to work his cock free from his undone pants. “And you’ll remember that you asked for it.”
Each word feels like a spark of electricity. You lift yourself on trembling knees, hands on his shoulders, and he puts his arm around you, drawing you in while you sink down until you feel the thick head of his cock–wet with his own precum–nudging against your spit-soaked pussy.
“That’s it, pretty girl. Show me how good you can take me.” You can hear the restraint in his voice, feel it in the thrum of his touch. You hold his gaze while his cock forces you open in one smooth, frictionless slide, the stretch a dull ache that rapidly ascends into pleasure. He lets you adjust a moment or so before he begins to move, holding your hips steady while he rocks his own, reclining down onto his back.
“Don’t you hold out on me,” you tell him through a shuddered breath, hands behind you, braced on his thighs. “You promised me ruin.”
As sharply as he’d slapped your ass, Cooper gives a hard thrust up, his dull nails biting crescents into your skin, his grip all that keeps you from losing your balance. “One taste and y’already damn spoiled,” he says, planting his boots on your bed–you’ll give him shit for that later–and picking up a brutal pace almost immediately. “C’mon then, sweetheart. Ride me.”
You have no choice but to comply, grabbing hold of what you can of his shirt while he bucks hard under you. Every thrust sparks inside you like the strike of a match, your cunt still sensitive. You can already feel yourself climbing towards another peak. You arch your back, watching him through the haze of your own pleasure. His eyes are dark, his teeth bared. He looks like something wild, like something ready to bite.
“Goddamn, that’s it, y’squeezin’ me fuckin’ good now,” he groans, tipping his head back, watching you bounce on his cock through heavily lidded eyes. “Give it up for me, pretty girl. Show me this is really what you want,” he rambles, his accent growing thicker the closer he gets. You nod along, panting wordlessly, his thrusts knocking sweet little keening noises from your throat. “Go on now, that’s it. Show me how it feels when I make you cum.”
The world around you goes black just before an eruption of white explodes behind your eyelids like stars, your whole body stilling to endure the overwhelming crash of your release, the shock of it rolling out in waves throughout your entire body. You don’t speak, you don’t even breathe, too struck by the magnitude of it.
Cooper fucks you through every second of it, slurring a litany of feverish nonsense–your name sprinkled within it–until he breaks off into a choked off noise, and in the middle of your euphoria you feel a the rush of his release spilling deep inside you, his body finally stilling under yours.
You sink down onto his chest, panting against the collar of his shirt. He moves his hand along your back, and a distant part of you is caught off guard by how tenderly he sweeps his fingers up the back of your neck. You answer in kind by slipping your fingers just under his collar, fingertips brushing bare skin that’s as gnarled as the rest of him.
The two of you sit in silence for a long while, neither of you willing to break the spell of your afterglow. The entire world feels softer in it, the dull sepia of it tinged with hints of gold. The dust particles floating around you almost seem to sparkle. In any other moment, you’d scold yourself for romanticizing the rotten remains of a dead world that has been so cruel to you, but for just this moment, you let yourself believe that things can be beautiful, too.
You lose yourself to the warmth of his body beneath yours, and the gentle way he traces the slopes of your body with his fingertips. Eventually, Cooper cleans his throat. You ignore it, reluctant to acknowledge him. You know once you do, the moment will be over.
“Y’might wanna get situated with a pack of Radaway soon,” he murmurs, the twang of his voice still heavier than usual.
Tucked into the crook of his neck, you smile while he still can’t see you, endeared. “I’ve had worse exposures.”
“I find that hard t’believe,” he says, cupping the back of your neck in his palm. His thumb strokes absently back and forth. You can almost believe he’s dragging out these last few moments together, too.
Lifting yourself, you brace your forearms on his chest, staring down at him. His expression is difficult to parse–while there is most definitely a sense of ease you don’t normally associate with him, there’s also a profound sadness.
Your brows furrow. “What?”
He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he moves his hand from your neck to your cheek, swiping his thumb along the ridge of it. You lean into his touch, ready to ask again, when he makes a grab for his hat and places it firmly on your head, obscuring your vision.
“That was some fine ridin’, sweetheart,” he says, voice as coarse and sweet as raw sugar.
You push the brim up until you can see him again, failing to bite back a smile. “Guess I’m the sheriff ‘round these parts now.”
“I ain’t a sheriff," he says flatly, though the slight tic at the corner of his mouth gives away his amusement.
“That’s right, y’ain’t. ‘Cause I am,” you say in your best impression of him, tipping his hat at him.
He blows out a breath and tugs the rim back down over your eyes. “Whatever you say, sweetcheeks,” he says, and though you can’t see him, you’re certain you can hear the smile in his voice.
Today may never happen again. The world could end tomorrow–again–or Cooper could walk off into the Wastes for the very last time. If you’ve learned anything in this world, it’s that nothing lasts forever. So, you drop your head back down and listen to the beat of his heart, using it to count the moments as they pass.
If they’re gonna be the best you get, you’d like to know how many of them you have.
#the ghoul x reader#the ghoul x you#cooper howard#the ghoul#cooper howard x you#cooper howard x reader#fallout fanfic#fallout#x reader#x reader smut#my writing#smut
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now I’m thinking about going to see aventurine perform at a concert thanks to that animated short…
TAGS: nothing but cuteness, use of his real name, not proofread this is pure word vomit, just a little something between studying for finals, can you tell I love writing him as an affectionate loser, 1.3k wc
When Aventurine told you that he’d be performing at the upcoming Robin concert as the lead guitarist, you were pleasantly surprised, to put it shortly. He’s a man of many talents, but how he managed to secure a spot alongside the famous singer is beyond you.
You don’t even have to ask if you could go. As soon as you’re about to pop the question, he presses something into your hand- tickets to the best seats in the venue and a highly coveted VIP backstage pass that you know people will be fighting to get their hands on.
In the weeks leading up to the performance, he’s busy practicing. When he’s home, the sounds of him making his way through a difficult passage can be heard, along with the soft meows of your cat critter pets as they gather around him curiously. You’re the one to massage his cramping hands after hours of practice and kiss his weary fingertips that are starting to callus.
(“It’s sounding really good so far. You should take a break now,” you say as you set down some snacks and tea besides him. He shoots you a thankful smile but makes no move to stop practicing.
“No, it has to be perfect. After all, you’re going to be there. I can’t have my darling seeing me at anything less than my best, can I?”)
When the day of the performance comes and you arrive at the venue with a bouquet of flowers in hand, he’s already waiting and greets you with a big kiss on the lips and a grin on his face.
“Darling, you’re here! And so early at that. Are these for me? Aw, you shouldn’t have!”
He’s quick to lead you backstage into the dressing rooms, where you see all the performers getting ready. The star of tonight’s show, Robin, is sitting at her vanity doing her makeup, gorgeous as ever. But in addition to her, you also spot a couple of other faces. A Knight of Beauty, the retainer of the Xianzhou Luofu’s general, and a… Stellaron Hunter?
(From the back of your mind, you recall something about Aventurine telling you that it wasn’t just Robin performing; it was a collaboration with talented people from all over the galaxy. What a colorful cast of performers tonight… seems like that was true.)
It doesn’t take much convincing from him for you to help him with his makeup. You pull a chair up next to him as you begin doing his eyeliner.
“I know I can always count on you, darling.”
The look on his face is smug and you scowl.
“Stay still otherwise your eyeliner is going to end up all wobbly.”
Your face is illuminated by the led lights on the mirror and your brows are scrunched in concentration. He chuckles a bit before stealing a kiss from your lips, laughing when you sharply gasp. It’s a cute look on you, he thinks. But he likes seeing you flustered more.
One of the stage crew members lets everyone know the show is about to begin. The other performers speed through the last of their makeup or warm-ups before leaving, until it’s just the two of you in the empty room.
With the start of the performance mere minutes away, stage fright is getting to Aventurine, even if he tries to brush it off. He adjusts his hat every few seconds and keeps fiddling with his guitar pick in place of his usual poker chip.
“Nervous?”
“Hah, me? Never,” he confidently declares, but you don’t miss the nervous quiver in his voice. You merely roll your eyes and sigh before stepping closer to him. One hand reaches out to fix his tie while the other reaches behind his back to grasp his left hand clenched into a tight fist. Your thumb traces soothing circles over the skin. The tension dissipates from his hand as he slowly unclenches his fist and lets it fall back to his side.
“You’ll do amazing,” you say as you redo his tie. “You’ve been practicing so much you could play everything in your sleep at this point. And if you get nervous, know that I’m there in the audience. Just keep your eyes on me and it’ll all be fine.”
You tug at his tie one last time.
“All done now. Look at you, so handsome.”
“For your eyes only,” he teases back with a wink.
You pat down his suit jacket and adjust his hat one last time.
“Go and steal the show now, Kakavasha.”
He gives you a cheeky grin.
“No good luck kiss?”
“You don’t even need one considering you were blessed by a goddess. But come here.”
Yes, he demands a good luck kiss before the show begins. Yes, he also demands kisses during intermission where he sweeps you off your feet in an affectionate hug coupled with kisses all over your face.
“How was I back there?” he asks once he sets you down. He doesn’t seem to mind that others are watching with varying levels of amusement but he’s always been unapologetically shameless with his displays of affection.
“Perfect,” you say. “You sounded even better up on stage than at home.”
But it’s not over yet. He has a solo in one of the pieces during the second half of the concert, and it’s what he’s most worried about.
Aventurine’s eyes wander during the pieces leading up to his solo and he notices a perpetually yellow lightstick glowing in the VIP section near the stage. Robin is performing right now, meaning that almost all of the lightsticks are glowing white.
He smiles to himself. You really are too supportive of him.
Robin stops singing and now it’s his time to shine. The spotlight hones in on him and follows him down the stage to the screams of fans. The lightsticks quickly switch from white to yellow, but his eyes are on one person only.
You scream his name followed by an enthusiastic “I love you!” so loudly that you think you’ve made the people next to you go deaf. His gaze meets yours under the blinding lights and the way he looks at you- you think you’ve fallen in love all over again.
Like you told him to, he keeps his eyes on you. His breathing slows down and his trembling fingers gripping the fingerboard stop shaking. He readjusts his stance and without any further hesitation, dives into his solo.
Many in the audience vye for his attention, smitten by his good looks. They reach for him as he passes by, but his attention is on one person only. Your gaze grounds him, keeps the stage fright at bay, and encourages him to keep going, if only to fulfill his wish of you seeing him at nothing less than his very best.
His solo is flawless. Perfect. As the last note reverberates through the air to the cheers of adoring fans, his eyes seek you out once more. His heart pounds in his chest, riding off the high of a successful performance- and your loving gaze.
You watch as Aventurine spins around in place, seeking you out. When his eyes meet yours, you wave your lightstick excitedly and blow him kisses. You see the adrenaline rush written clearly all over his face, but also the joy in his eyes after seeing your pride in him. He pretends to catch the kisses you blow his way before blowing a few back. Your entire section erupts in chaos, but you alone stay put, gazing up at him with a tender and proud look that he always feels like he never deserves.
But tonight, he feels like he does.
Aventurine is a born actor, able to fool everyone and himself. But in a crowd of many, he’ll always bare his heart for you.
#—stellaronhvnters.#hsr aventurine#aventurine x reader#aventurine honkai star rail#hsr x reader#hsr x y/n#hsr x you#aventurine#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail x you#hsr fluff#hsr fanfic#hsr imagines#victoria.writes
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okay y’all hear me out… alastor, Lucifer, and Adam and their s/o meeting their fandom personas
alastor x reader x cursed cat alastor
Yn: “Al look at what I found! Isn’t he the cutest 😍”
alastor: “what is the world is that? 😃”
is genuinely confused on what and where it came from all he knows is that it hates him and everyone else except yn
Yn once putted a bow tie on him and looked like he loved it by this smile seeming genuinely yet when his bow tie was coming undone he would hiss and scratch at anyone who tried to fix it and only allowed yn to fix it
had a tendency to bring gifts for yn like nice and one time a ENTIRE deer carcass but after seeing she would throw it away he started to bring started bringing stuff like Freshly pulled out of the ground flowers, sometimes jewelry, and one time a cute hat
as for alastor he does not like the thing
he hates how the thing will always try to get in the way when he tries to do anything with yn like when it’s early in the morning and he wants to enjoy the peaceful moment with you he will just show up somehow in the room cuddling you, when he tries to give you a kiss on the cheek the will but bring your attention to him instead, and onetime he tried locking the door to get some quality time alone together and keep him out, THE CAT NEARLY BROKE DOWN THE WHOLE DOOR!!!
The only time they got along was when they were protecting yn and when they both showed dislike for Susan
then one day a cat version of yn showed up also out of no where and immediately Cat Alastor stopped beefing with regular alastor because now both have their own yn
although yn was sad cat alastor wasn’t hanging out with her as much anymore she was happy and hopefully she can finally enjoy some peace of mind knowing they were not fighting anymore
lets just say a few months later there would be some kittens and they become permanent residents because cat alastor would bite who every tried to touch the kittens and his yn 😅
Lucifer x reader x cursed cat Lucifer
Out of all three he is the one who is actually loving meeting their fandom persona
“OMG HE IS AS CUTE AS KIKI! 🥹”
Lucifer gets even more excited see he too has a appreciation for ducks
let’s kitty Lucifer sleep with any of his ducks (except the Lilith one which he hides)
Kitty Lucifer loves yn almost as much as regular version of him
Like cat alastor he lives little gifts for yn except they usually come some with ducks mostly rubber ducks
however it is a bit of a hassle sometimes with him having wings where as when it’s time for a bath we will try to fly away but will get in the bath willing it there are some rubber ducks
when a yn cat showed up Lucifer was excited but not as much as his feline counterpart who acted like they were husband and wife and he missed his wife dearly
Kitty Lucifer was latter found being groomed by cat yn who was licking him clean and the too we’re sharing kitten kisses with kitty Lucifer having a completely smitten look 🥰
Adam x reader x squished/tiny Adam
Adam: “THIS LITTLE SHIT STOLE AND ATE ONE OF MY RIBS?!?! We need to get rid of it!”
yn: “oh come how Adam he is like you so he too likes ribs”
tiny Adam will often ask for cuddles and I imagine he is about as the same size as the cats so when cuddling he is pressed against yns boobs so tiny Adam will smirk at Adam making him jealous and flip regular Adam off while yn Isn’t looking
will often try to steal things like food, phones, jewelry to try and make him look cooler, and one time he has been caught stealing yns bra but was stopped easily due to how small he is
Will basically always come between the two of you when you tried to do anything romantic
not sure if he is wearing a mask like Adam or if that is his actual face due to always fighting anyone who tried to check
once Adam realized how he is able to get away with stuff they suddenly become good friends and caused a lot of mischief
I don’t know why but I imagine tiny Adam would also try to sing songs like hell is forever but it ends up sounding a lot cutter due to how high his voice is or he ends up squeaking instead
one day a tiny yn showed up and Adam finally understand why yn loved tiny Adam so much. ITS LIKE HAVING A TINY VERSION OF HER HE CAN TAKE AROUND WITH HIM WHEREVER HE GOES!! ITS SO FREAKING CUTE!! 🥹
tiny Adam then started started liking tiny yn and to regular Adam and yn it was like watching how they fell in love
ps these are not my art please don’t get after me I am just using these for illustrations on what they look like I am not claiming ownership and I hope you enjoyed 😁
#adam x reader#alastor x reader#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer x reader#cat lucifer#cursed cat alastor#squished adam
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Salve!:D. I'm curious on how the vice-dormleaders would react(hc) if their S/O being like Silver. Not in a literal sense but in a "Always sleepy/sleeps in random places" sense. It would also be pretty funny if their S/O still aces their academics HAHA(￣▽￣)~*
omg!! YES!!!
Vice Dormleaders x Silver-like!Reader
Trey Clover
He's a little worried... Like do you get enough sleep?
Are classes too stressful?
Trey finds it cute if you fall asleep on his shoulder while studying or having afternoon tea. He'd chuckle and give a "Is my shoulder that comfortable?" line as soon as you wake up.
Yes, you've heard it hundreds of times.
Trey kind of insists on studying with you, he (wrongly) thinks you might fall behind due to all the napping you do.
of course these study sessions are comfortable for you so you're usually lulled asleep by his voice
So imagine his suprise when he asks you about your text scores.
He's here, all ready to console you with your favorite tart, arms open to prepare to be a good boyfriend and hug you when youre sad
Only to be met with "Oh the midterm..? I aced it, why?"
HUH???
WHAT???
You share the tart, he laments...
He likes to suprise you with little treats every now and again, he buys special little boxes to put them in all the time too.
one day, he happened upon you sleeping underneath the table in your dorm (he knows where to look at this point).
You woke up with a light weight on your chest, It was a small green box with a letter attached to it:
"A sweet treat after your sweet dreams,
XOXO
- Trey Clover
Jade Leech
"Oh? How interesting..."
Jade is a little weirdo, so I think this unique trait of yours REALLY facinates him!
He kind of develops a sixth sense for your eepiness. Like he'll be in a middle of a shift and just randomly take a break, just to be there for you when you wake up.
Jade BEGS you to try a bunch of (non poisonous) mushrooms to see if they make your drowsiness worse or better
"Would you not consider it at leas.." "No." "please.." "Just once.."
He's really convincing (6'5 and in a suit).
If you fall asleep in the monstro lounge he is NOT stopping Floyd from doodling on your face
He isnt too suprised by your competency with grades, but then again he lives with Floyd, its kind of hard to suprise him.
He still rewards you with a lil kiss on the forehead
Jade LOVES when you fall asleep on him, it lets him know you feel safe around him!! He keeps a pleased smile on his face when youre near him and sleepy in any capacity.
He wants to go on hikes with you SO BADLY.
You agree one day, it kind of ends with you being carried when you eventually fall asleep on a particularly warm rock.
"Whatever will I do with you, Angelfish..."
-Said while lovingly scooping you up
Jamil Viper
Sigh...
How you two got together is a mystery
But he feels a bit calmer with you around.
He's pretty busy with Kalim, so a lot of time spent together is during school, school activities, and while he's cooking.
Jamil gets a little anxious when youre out of sights. like... what if you're sleeping somewhere dangerous, or you suddently decided to persue mountain climbing?
You go to a lot of his basketball practices, he claims he plays a little better when youre around anyway, even if you fall asleep in the middle fo the game
Stops both Ace AND Floyd from doodling on your face during practices.
Now, as for grades. He isnt too worried about you, he's got kalim to deal with an an exam to underperform on.
After midterms, he does ask about how you did (as seems to be customary)
"I did pretty well... got a 98" "You what"-
He's...pleaseantly suprised! one less thing to worry about (despite that not being his responsibility)
Jamil likes cooking spicier and spicier food for you, both to see if you can handle it (he's a little competitive), and to wake ypu up a lil <3
He presses a kiss to your cheek for every "level" you complete
"What do you think, Flower?... ah, you fell asleep"
Rook Hunt
I'm sorry.... he's a little weird about it.
He has a LOT of pictures of you sleeping in odd places
Rook's favorite is his homescreen on his phone, it's you sleeping in an impossibly high tree kind of just.. hanging there. Its in super high quality though.
He likes leaving little notes about how cute you look while sleeping around
its like a little gift for when you wake up!!!
When he isnt watch you sleep he keeps a bottle of water and some fruit snacks to munch on. Sleeping this often must be tiring after all, you need your energy!
You know you can call for him just as easily as Vil can (if not easier... you bagged a SIMP)
So, sometimes you jokingly put a hand to your forehead and Rook comes SPRINTING.
His arms are outstretched ready to catch you into a fall and dip you into a kiss
Sometimes though, it is not a joke, and Rook dutifully scoops you up before you make eye contact with him.
It's Rook, so he kind of knew about your good grades already, but every time you tell him he gives you a little "Magnifique~" and kisses your knuckles.
Your dates are very odd. one week it'll be a romantic picnic he preapred for you, the next you're hunting for Leonas together, and after that? movie night!
"Ah~ how delightful it must be to be graced with your beautiful viasge. How I long to be the lone tree stump that captured your affections so.
<3
-Rook Hunt"
Lilia Vanrouge
Another one of them "ara ara?? how interesting" types
He's a father, whose had practice with Silver
Lilia always encourages you to do your best, he usually knows when to stop pushing you to study or focus by looking into your eyes.
He's huge on affections (touch starved Lilia HC my beloved), so Lilia sometimes conveniently floats on by if you start to get drowsy.
He would rather stroke your hair to sleep over you resting on the uncomfortable wooden desks
Also kind of a weirdo who isnt tooo suprised about your high grades. He kind of assumed you were studying in your free time without him.
However, that does not mean he doesnt want to reward your great scores!! He'll cook for you :)
"I was thinking of making a lovely lasagna, with some cinnamon and jalapeño for color.... oh dear, you seem to have fallen asleep."
"honk shmimimimimim" -you, clearly faking it
He always feigns hurt when you reject his cooking, but he knows of his reputation in the kitchen.
Lilia often takes you to new places, usually museums, but sometimes your dates are in a forest he recently discovered within Diasomnia's grounds. like a goth picnic
He has a photo album of your dates together, although he has a page or two dedicated to his favorite spots you've napped on.
Lils is super accomodating, as long as you dont mind his suprise hugs and some light jumpscaring
"Haha got you, little bat!"
-Lilia, after successfully scaring the HELL out of you
#twisted wonderland#twistedwonderland#disney twisted wonderland#twst#twst yuu#lilia vanrouge x reader#rook hunt x reader#jamil viper x reader#jade leech x reader#trey clover x reader#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader
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Hey!
Can you write something about Ruben being a girl dad and celebrating easter in Portugal where they are playing easter egg hunt. You may add other things as well.
Thank you ❤️
Of course! I'll write anything about Ruben being a dad ☺️☺️
SEVEN DAYS OF REQUESTS 2.0
(DAY 2)
Ruben Dias x Reader - Learn With Time
Enjoy!
Easter. Ruben was the one who suggested that the family celebrate it in his home country, Portugal. It would give your three children a chance to practice their Portuguese, although your two oldest, Carlos and Carolina, were practically fluent by now.
It was a beautiful sunny day, and the kids were excited to go on an Easter egg hunt in the garden.
"Where is Sofia?" You asked, looking around the backyard of Ruben's parents' house.
"Isn't she out hunting for eggs somewhere?" Ruben said as he flipped the burger patties that lay on the grill.
"With who?"
The children were running around in pairs, with Carlos and Carolina both having paired up with their cousins.
"Ruben, she's gone?"
"Hey." He left the grill to put a calming hand on shoulder. "I'm sure she's around somewhere. Who knows, she might be out egg hunting by herself."
"I don't know, Ruben?" Your instincts as a mother told you otherwise. Sofia had been excited to go egg hunting with her cousins. Why would she decide to do it alone all of a sudden? The feeling in your gut told you that something must have happened to her.
"Hey, if it would make you feel better, I'll go look for her."
"You will?" You turned to your husband. The evening sun lit up the smile on his handsome face.
"Just keep an eye on the grill for me, will you?"
You nodded. "Okay."
He stepped forward, planting a swift kiss on your lips. "Be right back."
Whilst Ruben began his search for your daughter, somewhere hidden amongst a colorful bed of tulips was Sofia, feeling left out of the egg hunt.
Unlike her brother and sister, she did not jump at the opportunity to pair up with her cousins. She was hoping that one of them would be kind enough to ask her to be a pair. You see, Sofia loved playing with her cousins, but unlike her siblings, she barely understood a word of what they said. At times, it made her feel left out, left out by the fact that she never understood what the joke was about. She never understood when to laugh.
Sofia could tell that her siblings were getting tired of translating everything for her, that she should know the basic frases by now and although her parents told her that her Portuguese would improve with time, Sofia suffered, leaving her feeling left out of the annual egg hunt.
"Boo!"
Sofia let out an ear shattering shriek as something, someone, grabbed a hold of her leg. She sat up from where she had been laying amongst the tulips and was surprised to see Ruben laughing at her frightened reaction.
"Papa!" She groand. "You scared me."
"Did I?"
Ruben plotted down beside your daughter. He noted her print in the flower bed. Ruben's mother was very fond of her flowers. As a child, he would never hear the end of it whenever his football ended up crushing one of them. "Why aren't you out egg hunting with your brother and sister?" He asked.
"Because..." Sofia muttered, tucking her knees to rest under her chin.
"Is something wrong?"
"Yes?"
"Oh." Ruben looked to your daughter, her face all crinkled up into a displeased frowned. To him, it was adorable, although he understood that something had clearly upset her. "Would you care to enlighten me about what's wrong?"
"Yes. My Portuguese."
"You're Portuguese?" Now Ruben was the one looking displeased. "What's wrong with your Portuguese?" He had taught his children everything he knows. What could possibly be wrong with Sofia's...
"Papa, I don't know how to speak it, at least not as well as Carlos and Carolina."
"Mas querida," Ruben sighed. "Você aprenderá com o tempo."
"You see!" Sofia exclaimed. "I have no idea of what you just said."
Ruben chuckled. "I said, you'll learn how to speak Portuguese with time. Haven't your mother and I already told you that?"
"But Papa, I want to know how to speak Portuguese now!!!"
Ruben pulled Sofia towards him, allowing her body to rest against his side. They remained like that for a while, just listening to the noises surrounding them. There was laughter from the other children. They were still running around, looking for Easter eggs.
"You know, I don't see why not knowing Portuguese should stop you from egg hunting." Ruben said, squeezing your daughter with the arm he held around her.
"I didn't know how to ask anyone to be in pairs with me." She confessed. "Everyone was taken before I could ask Carolina to help me translate."
"I see." Ruben nodded, an idea litting up in his mind. "How about if we'd pair up?"
"Really?" Sofia perked up. "You would do that for me?"
He smiled. "I would do anything for you."
The two of them shared a hug, with Ruben helping Sofia to get back on her feet.
"Do you still think there's any eggs left to find?" She asked.
"I hope so. But let's not waste any more time and start looking."
A twinkle of determination appeared in your daughters eyes. "Okay, Papa. Let's do it, let's find the eggs." she said, her voice a little stronger.
Together, the two of them set out to find the last remaining Easter eggs. They searched high and low, laughing and chatting as they went. Sofia was having the time of her life, and she was so happy to be spending this special day with her dad.
As they were about to give up, the two of them stumbled upon the last egg hidden behind a large bush. Sofia squealed with delight and sought you out to show off their findings.
"There you are!" You exclaimed at the sight of her.
"Mommy, Mommy, Papa, and I found the last Easter egg. Look!"
You looked to Ruben, who trailed his steps behind your daughter. His smile assured you that everything was fine with Sofia, that you could relax now.
"Good job, honey." You bent down to inspect the egg. "I bet there is a suprise hidden for you inside of it."
"There is?" She gasped.
"How about you take a look?"
You and Ruben watched your daughter unwrapped the egg without mercy, laughing at the way her eyes lit up as she discovered that the egg was made out of pure chocolate.
"Papa look!" Sofia squealed. "It's chocolate."
"How about you show it off to your brother and sister, I bet they didn't find an egg such as yours."
And with that, Sofia was gone, eager to join her siblings and cousins. And as Ruben wrapped his arms around your waist, forcing you to meet his complecant grin, you knew that all was well in paradise. The life you shared with Ruben was simply just that, paradise.
#seven days of requests#fanfiction#football imagine#ruben dias#man city#manchester city#footballer x reader#footballer imagine#football angst#ruben dias x reader#ruben dias imagine
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I can't imagine how raw and irritated echos skin gets, especially from his armor rubbing against it. now I can imagine is his s/o applying lotion all over his upper body, and once rubbed in, giving him a massage cause lord knows the poor baby's been through enough.
finding good echo gifs is so hard 😭 I feel like I've already used all the good gifs in my other one-shots. If anyone has some Echo gifs they'd be happy to let me use for story visuals, please let me know!
Patch Your Broken Wings (ARC Trooper Echo x Reader)
Notes/Warnings: Got a little off topic here sowwy :3. People are jerks to clones, descriptions of scents, Echo has a hard time making decisions for himself and feeling good about himself.
This one-shot does not contain spoilers for season three. Please do not discuss spoilers in the comments.
"Here, smell this one!" You took a bottle off the shelf and shoved it in Echo's face. He stumbled back a step or two before he caught his balance. He took a deep inhale of the scent and closed his eyes, imagining himself in the middle of the meadow printed on the side of the bottle. The scent, however, didn't quite match up to the picture.
"Well, what do you think?" You asked. You were so giddy you were bouncing up and down on the tips of your toes as you waited expectantly for his answer.
He shrugged, "It's nice."
"Nice?" You frowned, "Is that all you have to say about it?"
The truth was, Echo really didn't care for that one at all, but with how excited you were about it and the other five bottles you'd thrown in your basket, he didn't want to disappoint you. Plus, there were at least three other customers staring at him, speaking in what barely counted as whispers. He knew he looked weird, on top of being a clone. Most people didn't like him being out in public, not that it bothered you. You were fearless.
"Yeah, smells like flowers." He mumbled.
You frowned, "Okay then..." You put the bottle back on the shelf, and Echo immediately knew he messed up.
"We can still get it if you like it! I don't mind!" He insisted.
"Do you like it, though?" You asked.
Echo blinked. "What do you mean?"
You sighed deeply, "Echo, I wanted to get these lotions for you."
"For me?" Echo pointed to himself with his good hand, "Why?"
"For your skin!" You reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently, "It's so dry and rough, especially by your cybernetics."
"Oh," He said softly, "I've never really thought about it before."
You smiled at him and leaned in to kiss his cheek, "I was doing some reading on the holonet, and it said that prosthetics can start to chafe after a while, but lotion so help with that."
Echo couldn't believe it. You'd done research to help him? On your own? He almost started crying.
"Come on," You pulled him after you, "You need to find one that you like. I'll help you put it on."
Echo felt a bit like he was floating as you pulled him along to the next aisle of lotions. Was that all that this store sold? Well, there had been some candles at the front of the store, and they were selling scented antibacterial packets by the register.
"We are not leaving until we find a lotion that you like," You warned him, "Now, what smells do you like?"
Echo fidgeted a bit under your scrutiny. "Well, I like caff, and flimsi. It smells nice when it's warm."
"Well, we could find a caff-based scent, but flimsi will be a bit harder to find," You hummed, "Keep going."
"Uh, I like the smell of the antiseptics that they use to keep the medwing clean, that's always nice."
You shook your head, and grabbed two sample bottles of lotion off the shelf. "Do you prefer flowers or fruit?"
Echo panicked, "Uh...both?"
Just as you reached out for him, an older woman shoved her way in between you both to get to the display wall.
"Pardon me-" Echo coughed.
"Excuse you!" You snapped. The lady turned to you, and though Echo couldn't see her face he knew she must be scowling.
"Watch where you bring that thing," She snapped back at you. She didn't even grab any of the lotions as she pushed past Echo towards the registers. Even more people were staring now.
"Maybe we should go-" Echo tried, but you grabbed his arm and kept him standing right where he was.
"You have just as much right to be here as anyone else," You whispered to him. Echo just gulped, and nodded.
You pulled his arm towards you and dabbed a bit of the first lotion onto his wrist. As you rubbed it in, it felt kind of nice, feeling you work away the tension building up in his muscles.
"What do you think?"
The first one was tinged purple, and smelled like joganfruit with hints of lavender. It was much too strong and Echo shook his head with a grimace. You applied the second scent, and Echo gave a hearty sniff. It was light and floral, with hints of meiloorun in the background.
"That one's nice," He said somewhat wistfully.
"You like it?" You seemed shocked at this revelation.
"What's the flower in that one?" He asked. You took a moment to read the label.
"It's made from ti'il blossoms, from the planet Alderaan," You read, "It's made with meiloorun and hints of prosecco."
"Prosecco? Isn't that an alcohol?" Echo asked.
"Yeah, but it smells nice," You shrugged, "You want that one?"
"Yeah," Echo said, reeling a bit from these events. Maybe the prosecco in the lotion was giving him the same effects as drinking it.
Buying the lotion and going back to your apartment were a bit of a whirlwind for him. He liked being at your place, it was a safe haven from the rest of the galaxy, where no one would oogle him or whisper about his condition as if he couldn't hear them.
"Hey," You called him from his trance, lotion in one hand, "You okay?"
He nodded, quickly, "I just...I don't usually get stuff like this."
"It doesn't hurt, if that's what you're worried about," You teased. Echo chuckled half-heartedly.
"Echo?" You said softly, "Babe, what's wrong?"
Echo tried to wave it off, but the lump in his throat betrayed him.
"No one has ever cared about me, not like you have." He stammered.
"Echo, that's not true," You pulled him to sit on the couch and cradled his face in your hands, "Your brothers would do anything for you, and you know it."
"They're my brothers, they don't count."
"They're your brothers--of course they do," You rested your forehead against his, breathing deeply in order to allow his breaths to align with yours.
"Thanks for what you did back there, at the shop," He murmured.
It was your turn to get flushed, "I barely did anything-"
"Not just with the lady," He clarified, "For the lotion, for looking stuff up, for this," He waved his scomp arm between the two of you, "It means everything to me."
He caught a glimpse of your smile, "You mean everything to me, Echo. I hope you understand that."
Echo chuckled again, "I think I'm starting to."
#lizart writes#tbb echo x reader#clone wars echo x reader#arc trooper echo x reader#the bad batch x reader#the clone wars x reader#apparently I can only write if I complain about writing beforehand.
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Maybe 'flower' or 'study' for the one-word prompts?
I tried for 'flower', but it wasn't quite working, so I switched to 'study' instead.
One word prompts!
---
Nicolò groans, his head falling forward onto the table. His stylus slips from his fingers, his wax tablet discarded. Yusuf peers at it, eyebrows raised.
“Trouble with the abjad?” he says lightly, a smile dancing on his lips.
Nicolò turns his head, just enough to reveal one eye. Its eyebrow is drawn low in a potent scowl. Yusuf raises his hands in mock defence.
“Peace! I jest!”
Nicolò raises his head, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “How do you do it so effortlessly?” he asks, and if Yusuf did not know him better, he would say that was a pout he was sporting.
“Do what?” Yusuf replies. “I do many things effortlessly: wield my sword, bargain with great skill, write poetry, suck your soul from your prick… you shall have to be more specific.” He cannot help but grin at the blush he gains from his plain speaking. The metaphors and euphemisms of great poetry have their place, but sometimes it pays to have the subtlety of a charging elephant.
“Learn languages,” Nicolò mutters, his flow of thought clearly being dragged forcefully back to where Yusuf’s words made it wander. “Wherever we go you take to the local tongue as if you came from the womb speaking it, and I sound like a simpleton.” He picks up his stylus and pokes at the table top, making tiny holes in it.
It is both the most petulant and the most despondent Yusuf has ever seen him. His Nicolò is a master of patience and hard work, and his dedication usually pays off. To see his frustrations so openly and plainly, well… It feels, in truth, like a privilege. He is humbled by it.
He reaches over and sets his hand on Nicolò’s, stilling his movements.
“You excel at a great many things, Nico,” he says gently. “You take to music quickly. You discern recipes from a single taste. Animals love you, and children too. Your kindness is as boundless as the sky. Show yourself some of the kindness you show others.”
Nicolò looks at him. He does not seem convinced, and Yusuf heart aches.
“We have all been given gifts and aptitudes, and we have all been given shortcomings. You know I cannot hold a tune for all the gold in the world, and every single camel on God’s Earth hates me on sight.”
The corner of Nicolò’s mouth twitches at that.
“They really do hate you,” he says, and Yusuf counts that as a victory.
“It is fine, I have your love to get me by,” he says, waving a hand. “But what I mean is… you work so very hard, my heart. You dedicate yourself to learning and improving, even when it is difficult. I give up too soon when things do not come easily, I have no constancy. You… you keep to the path, even when it is difficult, and you take my hand and guide me well. I admire you greatly for that.”
“I hope at least in your love you will be constant,” Nicolò says tartly, making Yusuf snort inelegantly. He lifts Nicolò’s hand and kisses the knuckles.
“Always.” He raises his eyes. “And will you be patient with yourself, as you are with me?”
Nicolò sighs, quiet for a long moment. “I will be.”
Yusuf beams at him. “Splendid! But enough study for today, let us go out.”
He springs to his feet, pulling Nicolò with him.
“Where to?” Nicolò asks.
“There is something in the market I need you to try. I want the recipe.” Yusuf presses a kiss to Nicolò’s lips before dragging him out into the mid-afternoon sunshine.
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Can I request a dynamic where the reader is the youngest Graves sibling (like a year younger than Ashley) and is objectively the most "normal" of the siblings (before Ashley and Andrew kind of ruin it)?
She's still clingy with her big brother and sister, but she's also happy to make friends outside of them and actively cares about them a lot. The thing is that Andrew forbids her from dating and Ashley scares off a lot of her friends and when quarantine rolls around she's stuck with two older siblings who are obsessed with her and she's not too sure what to do about it, because her siblings really are all she has left now.
Bonus details, I think it would be fun if her relationship with Andrew is bordering on romantic/he has romantic feelings he doesn't admit to but shows (sleeping in the same bed, holding hands) and he dotes on her a lot as the youngest. However, this strains her relationship with Ashley, who is used to having Andrew to herself before the youngest sister was born, but also loves reader (platonically, maybe transitioning to romantically) because she's never done anything but love Ashley unconditionally.
So it's a complicated thing where Ashley's possessive of both but also scared they'll get together and abandon her, Andrew is extra possessive and protective of reader but denies it to hell (as he does), and reader is slowly realizing some things about her siblings that she really should've realized much, much earlier...
notes from coff-in: GRRRR IT'S LIKE YOU LIVE IN MY MIND!!!! oh to have two possessive and obsessive older siblings who love you way more than a normal sibling should, not like i'm complaining, hahaha! i'm sorry these asks are taking so long... i just wanna hang on to all your wonderful asks and daydreaming about them indulgently!! even so, i hope this was to your liking and thank you so much for requesting!!
[fem] reader-insert, [reader] is 1 year younger than ashley, talks/mention of incest, brief NSFW
I love you more than I should...
Andrew and Ashley did not know why their mother thought she should have a second child. Maybe this was an accidental pregnancy.
When [reader] was old enough to walk and talk, Mrs. Graves delegated the responsibility of raising her to Andy, who was around maybe four or five years old at the time. He tried his best to keep them both happy and satisfied, but it was obvious to the keen few that he paid extra attention to his baby sister. Leyley wasn’t used to not having Andy’s full attention on her and expressed her hatred of the new status quo by picking on her little sister.
When [reader] would try to make amends with Leyley for whatever crime she committed, it shocked Leyley. She remembers when she was playing in the forest one day, picking on the bugs in the dirt, and having her little sister [reader] walk up clumsily to her with dug-up flowers in her hand.
“I’m sorry I made you upset, Leyley. Please don’t be mad.” Leyley picked on her less after that and a heated argument with Andy. In fact she tried to hang out with [reader] more often and tried her best to be nicer to her sister. She was someone besides Andy that she could call a friend. It wasn’t uncommon to catch [reader] following her older siblings like a lost puppy, eating lunch and studying with Andy or drawing and playing around with Leyley.
The other kids found it strange how [reader] would willingly hang out with Leyley. She was so normal like Andy was. She was sociable and had friends that she hung out with from time to time… until Leyley drew most of them away. The only ones that stuck around were Julia and Nina. Maybe [reader] knew that they were just using her to get closer to Andy or maybe she believed that they genuinely wanted to be her friends.
Once Nina died [reader] stopped putting herself out as much. She clung much closer to her big siblings and they were happy to dote and comfort her. Leyley made it so that [reader] promised with the blood pact she would never love anyone else but her and their bother.
As they got older, in middle and high school [reader] started to come out of her shell again. She tried to make some new friends but Ashley, again, did her hardest to scare most of them off.
“What do you need other friends for?” She’d ask [reader] when they see each other during the day, “You have me and Andy! You don’t need anyone else!”
It’s not like Andrew was any better himself. His possessiveness was less visible to others but it was still there. “Ashley’s right, sis. You don’t need to worry about making friends right now.” (God, to be the object of affection between these two <3)
He didn’t like the idea of [reader] dating. He knew it was wrong for him to think of his sister like this, but he didn’t want to share her with anyone else. He’d never admit that he got off on the idea of being her first; her first kiss, her first boyfriend… To avoid the jealousy he knew he’d feel if [reader] dated he simply told her that she wasn’t allowed to do so. Any arguments that [reader] had about him or Ashley dating (mostly about him dating Julia) were casually swept aside with the excuse that he’s older than her.
Ashley doesn’t like Andrew dating Julia. He can’t leave her! Does Julia really think that she’s better because Andrew can fuck her and not Ashley or [reader]?! While Ashley leaves 200 violent voicemails for Julia, [reader] calls Andrew a lot during his time in college to ask if he could come home.
“I miss you.” [reader] would say in that low, pouty voice that’ll tug on Andrew’s heart and make his cheeks red. “Could you come back this weekend to visit?”
And he’d say “Of course.” because he could never deny his little sisters.
Once they’re stuck in quarantine, Andrew and Ashley start showing (or at least then [reader] starts noticing) their more possessive and… weirder nature.
They’re always with [reader] except for when [reader] has to use the restroom. Ashley’s making [reader] do some chore with her or Andrew’s subtly holding [reader] close to him when he’s smoking on the balcony. Ashley would make her teasingly suggestive comments about [reader] and Andrew would immediately shut them down while avoiding looking at [reader] because he does think that they have a merit to them.
Andrew sneaks into [reader]’s bed when the nightmares come and cuddles up to his baby sister. He holds her close in his arms and rests his face on top of her head or in the crook of her neck or on her chest with her chip over his head. He relishes in her warmth and takes deep inhales of her scent to comfort himself.
Whenever [reader] does chores, he pats her on her head and says that she did a good job and that he’s proud. [reader] insists he praises Ashley too and it makes her heart pound a little faster and harder.
Skip over to Episode 1 when they break into the cultist apartment, Andrew tries to avoid having [reader] see what’s up. [reader] is reasonably freaked out and upset about having to dismember and EAT a dead guy until Ashley proposes that she’d just starve to death. Andrew argues with Ashley about letting their baby sister starve and would probably insist with Ashley that [reader] should eat the dead cultist.
Ah, this is going to be very lazy of me but I’m going to skip over to the Burial vision scene. In the vision, the siblings see themselves (all three of them) post-coitus, naked and marked up by each other. (Very self-indulgent but [reader] would be placed in the middle of them)
Andrew’s an embarrassed mess because holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!
He fucks his sisters. He fucks his baby sister, [reader]. He’s as elated as he is scared… she’s not like that. She wouldn’t fuck him. She wouldn’t fuck her older siblings and she wouldn’t want them as much as he wants her… would she?
Ashley’s never really considered [reader] in a romantic light like that, but she doesn’t mind it at all. Having [reader] close to her and Andrew like that brings a warm comfort to her.
With the way the trinket works, [reader] probably wouldn’t be able to see the vision since she can’t touch it when Andrew and Ashley are holding it in their hands. She’d be sleeping on the couch, waking up when she heard Andrew and Ashley yelling about the argument.
I wanna write smut about them having a hot incestuous threesome so badly but I’m losing steam right now. They all confess their feelings about each other and kiss tho. By the time Episode 2 ends [reader] has been sort of worn down by Andrew and Ashley’s weird feelings that she’s like “Yeah I’d fuck my siblings because I love them!”
----
coff-in
#cobweb in the coffin#tcoaal#the coffin of andy and leyley#tcoaal x reader#the coffin of andy and leyley x reader#andrew graves#ashley graves#andrew graves x reader#ashley graves x reader
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Venice in winter is nothing compared to his homeland, but it’s still damp, oppressive. Outside the sky is a pale shade of grey and the wind must be blowing something fierce, as the little roundels of glass rattle in their iron panes.
But Bianca’s chambers are a hot house. Heat crackles in the fireplace, from the candelabras that dot the walls and tables. Steam curls from the surface of her bath and Amadeo watches the way the wisps of blond hair that surround her face curl with it. She tips her head back against the rim of the tub to look at him. Her cheeks are flushed as rose petals when she smiles, gone pink from the steam.
“You’ve made a terrible mess of my bed,” she says.
And so he has. Having no spare clothing here he’s had no choice but to yank the velvet covers free and wrap himself in them. He’s lying the wrong way, his feet peeking out near the head of the bed. He pushes them into a pillow and grins behind the auburn curtain of his hair.
“And what of it?” he asks.
“Does your master let you get away with such things?”
“No. He beats me terribly. I’m a victim of his punishments almost nightly.”
Bianca rolls her pretty blue eyes. “And you enjoy it, don’t you?”
He does. But she needn’t know that.
This room with all of its delicate things- perfume bottles, silk ribbons draped across her vanity table, Bianca’s little shoes and her combs for her hair and her vases of flowers- it’s not the place for that sort of talk. It’s like being inside a jewelry box. Like being beneath the sea, with the way the steam has collected on the windows and left them shimmering and wet.
Bianca toys with the golden end of her braid, searching it for split hairs. The pearl strands woven into it click softly as she twists and turns her hair.
Amadeo lives in a beautiful palazzo of unruly boys. He sleeps in his master’s strong, imposing bed. He’s been to brothels of all sorts, enjoyed their lurid sort of appeal but this place, this woman’s chamber- it holds such fascination. He watches her in awe as she lifts her feet from beneath the water, rests them on the opposite end of the tub, and he feels as though he’s under a spell.
“You look like a mermaid,” he mumbles.
Water runs down her legs. They’re pale, slender, and Amadeo wonders if he grasped her by the ankle if his fingers would touch where they encircle it. Pressed together as they are, water and soap bubbles clinging to her skin, they look like the appendage of a sea creature. If he blurs his vision the fine golden hair on her legs becomes scales.
“Oh?” Bianca flicks a bit of water at him. It lands on the tip of his nose. “And were I a mermaid what would you be? Some fisherman come to capture me? A prince lost at sea, desperate for saving like Odysseus? Come, wash my back and tell me.”
Amadeo rises from the bed. He leaves the safety of the blankets behind and drags her carved wooden stool over to the side of the tub.
Funny how they’re both naked and yet he feels all the more vulnerable for it. Bianca is otherworldly with her hair swept aside, her head tilted to expose the line of her throat, her shoulder. He takes the wet cloth, rubs the perfumed water into her skin, and wonders what a crude being he must be in comparison.
“Perhaps I would capture you and travel about with you, keeping you on display. I could charge a gold coin just to look upon your beauty,” he says. “You’d make me a rich man.”
He drags the cloth over the delicate ball of her shoulder. It’s white as a porcelain doll, soft in a way none of the other boy’s flesh is. Amadeo massages at her skin and takes in the musicality of her little groan.
“Mm, and would you keep me in a cage? Would you be a very strict master, one who never lets his little captive out?” she teases.
Amadeo nods. “A golden one, so that I might hand feed you through the bars. I could charge another coin for that, I think. Plenty of men would pay for the pleasure of passing you a little bite of fish.”
He washes her scapula when she leans forward, the ball joint at the base of her neck. Her breasts bob in the water, slick with soap, flushed pink with the heat, and Amadeo can’t resist running the cloth over her clavicle. Down and down until his finger slides into the valley between them where her sternum rests. Her laugh vibrates beneath the bone as she slaps at his wrist.
It’s a half-hearted protest. Splashing just for the sake of getting him wet, and as Amadeo dodges her hand he pretends to accidentally grope her. The entirety of her breast nestles perfectly into his hand.
“You’re such a predictable boy. Would you have them pay to do this as well?” Bianca asks. Her voice rises into a gasp when he catches her nipple between his finger and thumb. “How many gold coins to molest your captive mermaid?”
She’s soft. Not like his master, who’s like caressing one of the marble statues that lines their courtyard. Bianca has warm breasts to squeeze, a roll of flesh that appears above her stomach when she sits hunched and naked like this. Amadeo rubs his palm over the swell of her stomach, his fingertips brushing the gold curls that cover her mound, and curls his other arm around her shoulders to clasp her wet back to his chest.
“None,” he says. “I wouldn’t charge them any, because this I would keep all for my own.”
The wind rattles the shutters of the palazzo. Rain lashes at the windows. It’s freezing outside but in here Amadeo is sweating. It trickles down his back as he grazes her thighs with his fingers. He’s damp under the arms, too warm from the fireplace, from his desire. Just like with his master, he feels monstrous from it. Lesser for the needy thing between his legs. An animal driven by lust.
Bianca struggles in his grasp. Not to get free, to rise up toward his wandering hand. But the position is awkward. Her ankles, perched as they are on the edge of the tub, they don’t give her enough leverage to lift her hips and so she’s trapped there; wiggling like a fish. Amadeo teases at the crease where her thighs meet. He traces it from knee to pubis and back again and listens to the quickening of her breath.
The cleft of her must be slick. She’s probably flushed pink down there as well but he can’t see it through the water, the way her thighs are clenched together. But that’s alright. He’s submitted to his master, to the workers of the brothels. Amadeo’s not had anyone squirm for him and he’s finding he likes this game. Her shiver when he rakes his nails through her curls sets his blood alight.
He works his finger into the tight crevice where her thighs meet. He seeks out the sensitive nub between her legs and he knows he’s found it by the way Bianca tips her head back and inhales a sharp breath.
Amadeo tries to picture her as a sea creature. What folds she might have here, in this secret part of her. Whether she’d be warm inside or cold, slimy like the belly of a fish. He forces his finger further down through the squeeze of her thighs and teases at her entrance.
It’s torment, being outside of this bath, unable to plunge into her. In the excitement of the previous night he’d finished all too quickly, and it’s embarrassing, really. He’s dying inside to repeat his performance, to do better this time. But he owes her. Pleasure is the only way he can pay her.
Bianca’s hands grip his forearm like a vice. They’re slender, like a doll’s, and he likes to feel small but she’s the first to make him feel powerful. He rubs tiny circles at her and her nails dig into his skin. Glides his finger up and down and watches through the distortion of the water the needy thrust of her hips.
“Amadeo-“ she gasps.
Her knees fall apart. He clucks his tongue at her, stills his hand.
“You’re a mermaid, remember? Your legs should stay together, yes, like that.”
She lets out a whine, clenches her legs back into place. Amadeo touches her again, slow, teasing, and bites back a hiss when she claws at his wrist.
This is new, having someone fall apart in his arms. Taking her apart little by little with his fingertip alone is a rush that goes straight to his head. Like being drunk only better, because instead of a headache there’s a reward at the end. Falling upon her in her great golden bed. Or perhaps just the satisfaction of seeing her shake with pleasure. That alone might be enough.
The pearls in Bianca’s braid click when she tosses her head. Amadeo strokes her, up and down, again and again. Runs his finger along her folds and watches her toes curl at the edge of the bath. He presses at her entrance. Makes as if he’ll let his fingertip in and her toes point with anticipation. Then go lax again when he takes his fingertip away and seeks out the sensitive nub of her again.
“You’re a horrible tease,” she complains.
Amadeo laughs. “I’m your captor, aren’t I? It’s my right to tease. I trapped you for my own pleasure, after all.”
He traces a little circle over her clit. Bianca presses his cheek into the crook of his elbow, as though she means to hide her face.
“Most men would take their pleasure in other ways.”
There’s no hiding herself, though. Amadeo tilts his head, ignores the pain that comes with straining into such an awkward position, and takes in the way she’s panting. The rush of color to her cheeks, how she bites her lip when he touches just the right way. He keeps on that spot, repeats the motion, and he can tell by the way she squeezes her thighs that she’s squeezing tight on the inside too.
“I’m unlike most men,” he says, and kisses at her throat.
Her skin tastes like the perfumed water. Like salt because she too has begun to sweat. He rubs over and over, feels the rush of her pulse, and wonders if this is what his master feels with him. Whether making him squirm, helpless in his arms, makes him feel indomitable as well, and for a second he wishes he could rend her throat with his teeth. Amadeo wants to feel the stitch of her heart the way his master feels his whenever he bites into his flesh and takes his blood.
Slow circles. Over and over he spirals his fingertip. No change in the motion, no teasing now. There’s only one end to this and he means to achieve it as he drops kisses along her neck. Amadeo picks up his speed bit by bit until she gasps. There, there- the words are muttered out over the slosh of the bath, and he listens. Takes her advice even though his forearm is screaming at him, and-
Bianca kicks at the edge of the tub. Her cry sounds surprised, like she didn’t expect to be wracked with this much sensation, and she shakes with it. Her thighs squeeze so tight around Amadeo’s finger he couldn’t slip it inside her even if he wanted to.
And that’s fine. Good, in fact. This pleasure is for her sake and even if his cock is throbbing its need between his legs it can wait. Must wait, he decides. His master would scold him for taking her like a street ruffian not once but twice.
She’s lovely when she goes slack. Bianca’s hair is mussed from rubbing her face against his arm, a gold curl come free near her temple. Amadeo goes to tuck it back for her but she shakes her head.
“My hair will have to be redone entirely.” She plunges her wet fingers into his auburn hair and drags him down for a kiss. Her body is uncomfortably hot, sticky against his. “You’re right, you know.”
“About what?”
She nips at his lip, hard enough to leave it smarting. While Amadeo is busy rubbing at his mouth she rises from the tub like Venus from her shell. Arm covering her breasts, she reaches with the other hand and gestures for him to hand her a dry sheet.
“You’re like your master,” she says.
Amadeo cocks his head. He hands her the sheet without getting up from the stool, suddenly embarrassed of the thing throbbing between his own legs. He aches to throw her to the floor and take her.
“How so?” he asks.
Bianca enshrouds herself in white fabric. One neat movement, so well practiced that she hardly drips water onto the floor, and she’s perched on the edge of the bath rubbing herself dry. Arms first, then legs. She brings her ankle up to rest upon her knee and Amadeo can’t help but stare at the bone white jut of it. She’s pale as his master there. Her ankles never see the sunlight and so he can see the blue veins through her skin, and he wonders how they’d taste.
“Both of you are entirely unlike other men,” Bianca murmurs. Her foot with its pale sole, white as the belly of a fish, lands suddenly in Amadeo’s lap. She grinds her heel down and draws a gasp from him. “Now come to bed, Amadeo. I believe it’s time your captive takes her revenge. You’ll allow me some fun, won’t you? Before I release you back into the waters to swim home to your master?”
The pearls in her braid are loose. He ruts up against her foot and hears them rattle when she tosses her head back and smirks.
Amadeo is hooked. How easily he swings between such extremes. Misery and ecstasy. Dominance and submission. Shame and desire. He’s a being made of contradictions, and as he follows her to her golden bed he thinks he’ll do anything she wants so long as it keeps him here a moment longer. Safe from reality in her jewelry box room.
Safe from his sadness so long as he remains trapped in the net of want.
#a quickie i'd prepped for mermay#no actual mermaids involved lmao#i just wanted to write the armand/bianca smut nobody ever asked for#as a little tumblr exclusive#for funsies#anyways barely scraping in under the deadline oops#maybe i'll work on those short prompts as a warm up for bigger things this week#anyways reply to this post if you like it!!!#vamptember#mermay vc#armand/bianca#vc fic#apoptoses fic
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Hi. I have to say I’m loving all this Brady attention. And I love your writing!
May I request some headcanons for a John Brady being in a relationship with a woman on base.
Thank you and have a great day ☺️
Ahh me as well Nonny! John Brady has solidly had my heart since the minute Marina and Bee started posting about him haha! So I'm happy to share the brainrot for him. Keep sending in your requests and your thoughts! I seriously love it!
Cut for length, more below the cut, and some light spice sprinkled in:
-I think for someone as focused as John Brady, it had to have been a happy accident for him to fall in love with you and commit to dating you
-So my genuine first thought is that you're a nurse and that everyone in his crew gets sent to see the doctor on base after that disastrous first near-crash landing
-And of course, he's all grumpy and pouty because, ya know (France was France), and that was ROUGH
-But you come into his life with the smile that rivals the damn sun and everything after that just sorta clicks into place
-He's a lowkey lover that has eyes only for you—I imagine that only a few people, if any, would know that the two of you are dating or even together
-And he's taking his time and making the most of the moments that he has with you
-Because his time on base is so heavily monopolized by work and same as yours, it's stealing moments together
-Ducking behind barracks to kiss
-Lingering kisses because neither of you wants to go but it's already late and you have a shift and he's flying a mission
-Small little gifts that are left for one another; it's a small flower plucked from the field that you find at your work station, it's the extra blanket he finds on his bed, or the little notes that you sneakily leave for one another to find
-MAKING OUT IN HIS PLANE, I'm sorry, I don't make the rules here
-Stealing Bucky's jeep when he's super drunk so that the two of you can get some alone time
-He beelines for you anytime he ends up in the hospital wing
-And he loves the tender and gentle touches you give him, a swift and small kiss to the cheek, etc.
-CUDDLING!!!! I just know that he gives the best hugs and the best time on base for him is that early morning before everyone else is up, when you and him are just entwined in one another and he gets to hold onto you
-Dancing together at the parties, but not too many times in a row because you don't want anyone getting any ideas about the two of you
-This man is writing love letters, sonnets, the whole 9 yards anytime he's parted from you
-Sunday afternoon walks together, where your hand is in his and he can pretend like the war is over and you two are actually together
-He definitely has a few dreams about you and he (both spicy and sweet), and this definitely plays into the way that he shows you love later
-If any of the boys flirt with you on base, he does get a *little* jealous and possessive and that might mean a hookup in the hospital wing's supply closet later
-Loves twirling you around
-Husky compliments in between hot open-mouthed kisses
-He keeps your picture in his jacket when he flies
-This man prays for you every day and is literally so devoted
-Probably has already planned out the entire proposal for when the war is over
-Definitely wrote home to his family about you....like Day 1 in Europe
"Ma, look at Johnny's letter! He mentioned something about France and some girl??"
-That kinda thing haha
-Always holds the door for you
-EYE CONTACT is so huge to him and so you best believe that if you're in the room, his eyes are going to be on you
-Is really gentle and giving when he's with you
-HAND KISSES because your hands do so much good as a nurse
-Being there to reassure one another that things are going to be okay and that there's hope for all of you
-And once he's in the camp? OH THIS MAN IS SINGING YOUR PRAISES. And no, neither DeMarco or Bucky is getting paid enough to listen whenever he wants to just talk about how nice you smell or how your hair feels.
-I just think it would be a really tender relationship that so clearly has a bright future, even when he's in the camps
-He's writing to you dutifully and as often as he can and your future together is the thing that keeps him going
#mota#mota fanfic#masters of the air fanfic#ladies who brady#john brady headcanons#john brady x reader#john brady#masters of the air x reader
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Living Moments 4- Lost
I've been lost in a sea of people. Feeling like a strand of grass on a neverending field. Surrounded by flowers that stand out and dirt underneath. Yet I'm stuck in place only able to sway with the crowd of the lost. Never really being stepped on like the dirt and never being picked like the flowers.
I fit it like the rest of society and yet I feel lonely. I can't reach any higher than the rest and When I fall we all do.
The cold season comes and I sit still. cold weather seeping into my being freezing my from the inside out. The skies get darker, nights get longer and here I stay. Lost knowing not what life would become of me.
And when the warm season comes back around, I sway again, lost within the crowd.
But I don't want to be lost anymore. I don't want to blend in. I want to grow past the line that makes me one woth society and be on my own. I want to stand out like all the flowers, maybe even more for being different. I want to be picked for once, not ignored for being indiferent and not stepped on for being dirt.
I've been lost for so long but the way the world is made is not for the grass to be higher than the flowers. It for it to remain the same. Remain a unit controled by those who can. And those who cannot be controled, subside to the dirt. Unable to grow.
I don't want to be lost anymore, for I've been lost for so long.
I don't want to be lost anymore, for it feels so lonely.
But until the day comes, that the grass grows taller than the flowers, I will remain lost. For that is what I've been my whole life, that is all I know. It is all I've been let to believe that I'll never reach that far.
-Mel.
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I know I've been gone for a while. I've honestly been trying to deal with what is life on a daily. I'm at a point where I'm not bad, but I'm not good eaither. I'm just ok. and I don't want to be just ok.
I'm trying to find myself in the small moments on quiet. but the loudness in my mind makes it hard. I've felt lost for a while now. But I keep pretending to be ok. Pretending that I can keep going and everything is under control when it far from it.
But that's ok. It takes time to grow. To learn and understand yourself. And I'm slowly coming to peace with that thought. I cannot rush thing because if I do, it will come diformed. But If I let things be, they will turn out perfectly the way they are intended to be.
I know it's hard to be lost in this world where everyone seems to blend in, in one way or another. But don't ever let that stop you from trying to out shine and show the beuty you hide inside.
It's only a matter of time before someone picks you out of a field.
Will you remain lost in the sea of people, or will you do your best to outshine in your own way?
-Mel.
#poetry#feelings#follow#quoteoftheday#quotes#fyp#sad poetry#sad quotes#in my feels#sad thoughts#life quotes#inspiring quotes#words#writeblr#writers on tumblr#writing#poets on tumblr#letters to you#artists on tumblr#spilled ink#inspiration#original#problems#poem#prose#literature#life#heartache#growth#feel good
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Hi Beans, I’m finally here. Diluting the sad with fun and very OOC.
I don’t really have a lot of ideas about what to write, but I remembered that I shared my idea of Es with the chivalrous Argenti's personality.
So. AU in a vacuum (maybe an actors AU, maybe not), where Es thought that it would be funny to surprise the prisoners with the behavior of a knight(maybe Jackalope came up with that idea, maybe just strange sense of humor). What about the prisoners' reactions? (gallantry and compliments to plants attached)
I think Mahiru would have joined the drive even if she didn’t really understand what happened. Fuuta would probably say "ugh, cringe" and that would make him a great target for the rest of the day.
YESS ahahaha, this is such a fun idea! I wrote a little scene with a few characters, but honestly it's hysterical picturing any of them trying to figure out how to react to this new and sparkling Es... I went for a version where not even Jackalope was prepared, but I can certainly see him suggesting something crazy like that to shake things up omg. Thank you so much for the request! The original meme was made by Mug, and I couldn't help but do a doodle myself ✨🌹
Amane was the first to witness it. She fled as soon as possible, finding sanctuary in the common room. The others were surprised as she stumbled in, face pale and eyes wide. Very little could frighten the girl; it was not a good sign.
Yuno moved to comfort her. “What’s wrong?”
Her eyes went distant with the harrowing memory. “It’s Es,” was all she said.
“Did they do something cruel?”
“No. Worse.” Amane shivered. “They were… nice.”
“They were what?”
Amane opened her mouth, but paused at the sound of heels clicking down the hallway.
She stiffened. “If you need me you can find me in my cell.” She disappeared as quickly as she came. The others, who had been listening in on the odd conversation, gaped after her. They tried to piece together what had been so unsettling. Still, Es’ boots approached.
All eyes landed on the doorway.
And Es appeared. They looked very normal. Jackalope hopped up behind them. All shoulders sagged in relief. Es surveyed the room, slightly surprised to find everyone staring.
Then, they smiled.
It was a genuine, bright smile. The blue-gray of their eyes sparkled with a new light. Their lips parted to release a lighthearted laugh, unlike anything the prisoners had heard from them before.
They glided through the room, heels clicking lightly behind them until they came to Muu. The others stood frozen in place.
Es swept their cape aside with a grand flourish of their arm. They held both her hand and her gaze with warmth.
“Why, hello, Muu! You’re looking as positively lovely as always. Has this fine morning treated you well?”
“Um…” She looked to everyone, her face pleading for a little guidance. They were too busy looking eagerly to her in astonishment. “Uh… yes?”
“I’m pleased to hear it.” They reached behind themself. The room let out a soft gasp as they produced a pale pink flower from underneath their cape.
“For you, my dear.”
They didn’t wait for her to finish stuttering a confused ‘thank you’ before they turned to whoever was standing closest. Mahiru’s own face lit up as Es turned their glimmering gaze her way. Fuuta scoffed, muttering something about this being the lamest, cringiest thing he’d witnessed. Es pretended not to hear.
“Shiina Mahiru… a smile like yours is rare to find in a place like this. I thank you for it.” They pinched their chin and angled their head, thinking. “The meaning of your name has to do with light, correct?”
She nodded, unable to keep the giddiness from her face. The others watched as Es moved their glove behind once more. Surely there was no room for any more flowers hidden there…
Surely they were all mistaken – Es flicked their wrist to present a small gathering of yellow blooms.
“Something radiant for someone as bright as you.”
She fell over herself with gratitude and giggles. She tried to tuck it into her hair, and Mikoto stepped over to help her. The pair raised their eyebrows at each other in disbelief.
This time, Es retrieved their gift before turning to their next victim. A classic red rose. They caught a prisoner’s gaze.
“Oh, no. Nope. No way.” Fuuta held up his hands, as if it could ward them off. “I don’t want your stupid-ass flowers.”
“Now, now, I see you’re playing hard to get, as usual.” They brushed their thumb along the thorny stem. “You know, the rose has a very similar approach.”
Fuuta’s face now matched the flower’s color. “Wha–” He stumbled backward, then took off running to the door. “I don’t know what weird mind games you’re trying to pull, but I’m staying out of it!”
Es only clicked their tongue gently when he disappeared. “Always making things difficult, that one. All part of his charm, I suppose.”
They followed to the entrance. Turning briefly, they flashed their smile once more.“It was wonderful to see you all! I will await our next meeting eagerly.”
With a fluttery wave, they vanished.
Everyone’s attention shot to Jackalope, who had paused in the doorway. No one could understand his voice, but his little rabbit face seemed to say, Hey, don't look at me. I have no fucking idea.
#milgram#es#muu kusunoki#mahiru shiina#fuuta kajiyama#featuring others#asdfsadfs its so silly i love that for them 😂#i hope i wrote them alright -- i dont usually analyze that character type for writing too much 😅#i think yuno and muu would be suspicious at first since theyre used to fake people but would see it was all harmless and accept es' kindnes#haruka and mahiru are super flattered all the time <3 mikoto enjoys it but doesnt really take the compliments to heart#fuuta is downright disgusted but YES it makes him the biggest target 😂#shidou and kazui dont quite understand#but theyre both poetic guys and would probably nod along and muse on what es is saying about flowers and beauty#i wrote amane uncomfortable for the comedy but honestly i think shed enjoy it too after getting over her confusion#kotoko just tries to talk to es as normal#theyll give her a poetic speech complimenting her only to be met with#'yeah i know but thats not important. now as we were talking about...'#no one knows where they keep getting all these flowers from#asdfsdf the art had me cackling the whole time -- if you post yours lmk!!! it was so perfect omg#drabbles
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more photo diary posts.. various life images...
#photo context/information described here in the tags since there are no longer photo captions#(from top left to right) Image 1: BIG matcha bubble tea milkshake thing I made lazily by just getting a thing of matcha#ice cream and blending it up then adding some of those bobas you make at home lol.. served in the weird giant wine glass looking thing I h#have. image 2: the moon and two stars (or planets)!! not a very good photo/barely visible but I'm suprised I was able to get anyting#at all.#image 3: one of my WiiFit game scores ghh. A PERFECT score in this game like the minimum you could possibly get though is 15 seconds so#16.9s is VERY close.. ! image 4: some of the eyes I've carved so far out of avocado pits! one of them I even embedded a gem into for#the pupil type part of the eye. I think this is my favorite thing to make so far in my experiments with avocado. I was thinking of making a#whole necklace of eyes or something.#image 5: NASTURTIUMS... MY children.. favorite flowere...#image 6&7 : some little flowers I found in someone's yard. I Just Think They're Neat#image 8: I don't even remember why I took a picture of this it's just at tiny turkey and cheese pinwheel type rolled sandwich thing#maybe because the plate is tiny?? not very notable but. I added it to the photoset when i drafted this a week ago so . keeping it#image 9: a smoothie thing of coconut ice cream and fresh strawberries with some boba#image 10: various sketches from my desk where I jsut draw absentmindedlty on the keyboard tray all the time#if I am allowed to have a white surface near me i WILL draw on it lol#photo diary#eyes tw#eye contact#idk what to tag the eyes as or if it counts since theyre not real it's just painted wood basically? let me know if it should be something#different or another tag
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process gif of akoya’s birthday picture!
this took about 22 hours (admittedly several of which were spent trying things and having it not work and redoing it LOL)
#boueibu#my art#how i draw#it took about 9 hours to get to the first stage where all the characters are colored in#and 13 hours to get from there to the final LOL#that was my marathon over the last 3 days#the most time is always spent on the last details#also admittedly i kept redrawing akoya's hair bc i don't know what it was but the angle here was just difficult to work with somehow#bc it's boxed in awkwardly by the edge on one side and kinchan's arm on the other#i had to make it flow within that space or it would go too far off the page or across kinchan's arm#and i kept rearranging the flowers so many times OTL#i had to drop arima's arm and the flowers on the right side into shadow so that the petals in the corner would pop out in contrast#kinchan's original pose was even more awkward LOLL but i changed it to give it more motion#also cuz the angle of his arm wasn't connecting super well with akoya's after i moved him closer#my reason for sharing process tbh is that making something is an experience and showing it allows me to feel like im sharing that...?#(instead of spending 22 hours alone that no one ever knows about LOL)#that and i keep getting mesmerized by my own gifs#and im not even mentioning all the video i took of myself posing out in the sun for reference LOL#ANYWAY i started thinking maybe akoya was so happy it caused all these flowers to pop up around him#remembers that old hc people talked about where flowers bloom if akoya is happy..!!#though i think they're just in a flower field...!!!
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Part Six
Can't stop thinking about reader finally giving the boys a taste of their own medicine. And hurting my own feelings in the process of it all. I wanted to make this a baddie reader chapter, but its just a saddie reader chapter. I played Down Bad by T.S on repeat while writing this. Y'all need to thank @blueladys-world for being my ventor for this part.
None of them came the next day to pick up the box of everything you had collected. By everything, quite literally everything. Birthday cards and gifts. Keepsakes from your time together they had given you. Even going as far as returning lingerie they had given you. You didn't want any trace of them in your home anymore. You were gonna have to work hard in rebuilding it to be your safe space once again.
You were surprised that someone from the expo had DM'd you. Renée was an author who had tried to stop by to your stand, but got too caught up in the day. She was in London, working on her next series installment and wanted to pick your brain. Writer to writer.
The two of you agreed on a time. She had mentioned wanting to try this restaurant the last time she visited and you already knew you would be putting that meal on a credit card. It was a bit of splurge, but after the past week you deserved it. You could even wear that sexy black number that had been collecting dust in your closet.
By the time you were done getting ready and squeezing into your dress, you looked more ready for a date than dinner with a colleague.
A colleague. You had a colleague!!!
The knock on the door pulled you from your girlish glee. You didn't need to guess who it was. Your friends knew to text you before they came over and Renée had agreed just to meet you at the restaurant.
It was one of them.
You didn't even t bother looking through your peephole before you opened the door to find Johnny standing there with a floral arrangement of your favorite flowers.
Johnny began to speak, afraid you were going to shut him down immediately no less. But no words came out. His eyes traveled up and down your body, taking you in.
A vision.
You wanted to snap at him that your eyes weren't located on your hips. But damn if it didn’t feel empowering seeing Johnny’s gaze gloss over.
"Fuck me." He swore, gathering his bearings before realizing you were dressed. In a sexy black dress and heels and makeup and oh, fuck you were going out. "Where are you going?"
"First off, none of your business," you said holding a finger up. "And secondly, what are you doing here?"
"Listen," "Bon-"
"The box is right there." You said pointing to a large cardboard box on the floor. "That's everything."
"If you just let me make it-"
"Up to me?" You cut him off again. "I'm over it. Really."
"Just give me a chance."
"Either you haven't spoken to the other two to know I am well and truly done with this situationship, or you’re hoping some half-ass apology and flowers will let you get a last fuck in and the skedaddle. So hopefully if it was latter, hopefully the former answered that for ya.”
So if that's all you came here for, I've got to get going. My reservation is at seven and it's rude to keep a friend waiting."
"It's been a week and you're already going on a date?" He accused.
"Who said anything about a date?" You didn't outright say it wasn't. Where would be the fun in that? “It's just dinner with a colleague.” You didn’t want to lie. It wasn’t a date. But you didn’t need to say it was a woman. “Hardly a date.”
“Look at the sight of ye!" He said, taking the opportunity to take a quick look at how deliciously your ass filled that dress. “A fookin’ dinner with a colleague. Like one of us would show up to a briefing like that.” You opened your compact. Not needed in the age of cellphones but loving the feminine touch.
There was something so... seductive about using a compact mirror to apply your lipstick.
“Kyle does have the legs for this dress.” You said, applying that lipstick he loves. That same shade that looked beautiful on your lips. The same lipstick you would mark all over Johnny’s body. “Believe what you want. Not my problem anymore.”
You put your compact back in your purse along with the lipstick in case you needed to reapply it after dinner.
Johnny's eyes zeroed in on your lips before his eyes met yours. That's when you felt it again. That undeniably spark of chemistry that you had with him. With all of them. That feeling that sucked the very breath from your lungs and for a moment all you could see was the man in front of you.
"Bonnie," he said placing his hands on your neck. His thumbs stroking your cheeks softly. "Just one more chance." He begged, his voice breaking. "I'm a fucking git, but I won't let you go again. I won't leave." You knew that when it came to promises, Johnny had proven that even if he didn't mean to break them, he had forgotten he made them in the first place.
But in that moment you didn't care. Even after everything, Meredith was right. You had loved them. Everything else had ended so shitty. John had blamed you. Kyle had only shown up until it was too late. And Simon. The last time you would ever hear his voice was after he said such cruel things to you.
No.
If you were done with Johnny, you won't let the last time he fucked you being a quick, rough fuck doggystyle before leaving you naked and alone in your bed.
No. The last time with Johnny needed to be good. It might make it harder to finally leave, but you needed this. You needed to know that he could still make love to you and not just fuck you like an animal in heat.
"Johnny?" You asked. Your mouth dangerously close to his. "I don't want you to fuck me."
"I don't have to," he said, starting to take a step back to give you some space before your hands reached his. Holding him in place.
He can't let you go. You couldn't let him go. Not yet. Just one more. You needed just one more time to get him out of your system. The closure you needed.
"Make love to me." You begged, your eyes pleading. "I need to know that I wasn't just something you wanted to fuck." You don't move as his eyes search yours, looking for reassurance. When you nod, his mouth softly touches your own.
His hands travel along your body, but never fully leave you. Sliding your neck to your back. Pulling your body closer to his. A hand placed on your hip so tightly he's afraid you might disappear.
There's no rush, no haste in his touch. His mouth not eager to devour you.
He's slow. With his hands, his tongue. Even when he picks you up and walks to your bedroom with your legs around his waist.
He doesn't throw you on the bed.
Not this time.
He lays you down. His body laying on top of yours. His hand skimming along your bare thighs, but not daring to travel any higher.
But damn you needed him. You wanted love making, but if he didn't get inside you soon, you weren't sure you could let him go after this. You weren't sure you would be able to leave.
"Johnny," you whimpered, pulling away from his mouth. "Please." You took his hand, putting it between your thigh. Aching for any friction.
He obeyed without hesitation. If you told him to get on his bark, he would in that moment. Anything to make you happy. Anything to keep you.
"Got to get you out of this dress first." He resting on his knees before he began to slide the black satin from your thighs to your stomach. You maneuvered, helping him undress you leaving you in nothing.
"I thought you liked the dress." You couldn't help, but tease. Your hand finding its home on the back of his neck, pulling you to him once more.
In a tone lacking any note of humor and in all seriousness, he looked at you. Really looking at you. Taking in how your smile reached your beautiful eyes before he said, "I want you bare to me when I take you."
You felt your stomach flutter at his words before he began to take off his clothes.
He joined you again. His body relaxing when they got between your legs again. His mouth traveled from your exposed neck to your nipples. Sucking and flicking them with his tongue until your back arched. Pressing harder into his mouth.
Your hands tangled in his soft brown hair before you boldly guided him to your already dripping core. He slid down your body before his hands began to push your knees apart until you were fully expose to him.
With your knees bent, Johnny settled on his stomach, placing soft kisses on your soft inner thighs. God, did he love seeing you squirm. He smiled at your tortured expression before looking down at your sex. "There she is." He said before placing a kiss on your pussy.
It wasn't sloppy. He wasn't diving in and licking at your center like so many times before. He was kissing it just as tenderly as he kissed your mouth. Slowly building it deeper and deeper. Adding tongue. Breaking away to readjust his head.
The delicious ache between your thighs began to become to unbearable. "Need you inside me." You panted. "Johnny-"
"Shhh." He soothed. "Got to warm you up first , Bonnie." He said before slipping his finger inside of you. One was all it took before your head settled against the pillows again. When your body relaxed, he added another. He would need to add three to make sure you were good and ready.
His digits stroked that spongy spot inside of you that made your toes curl. "You're barely fitting around my fingers." Johnny was a good 6 inches in length, but the girth is what always did you in. It hurt to take anything past his head into your mouth. If you fucked him without any preparation, especially after a week of no sex, he would tear you into too.
His tongue caressed your clit, your eyes squeezing shut as you felt your first orgasm creeping up on you.
"Johnny." You moaned, your fingers running through his soft brown hair.
"Give it to me, beauty." He panted. "Come on my face. Squeeze my fingers, Lass." He begged before his mouth went back to you.
It was like lightning. Your body now sensitive after being forsaken for so long. Your vision blurred and before you could process it, Johnny was sitting on his haunches between your legs, stroking his cock.
You could only nod, dazed and barely keeping a grip onto the reality of what this was.
The end.
He leaned forward, his cock nestling against you. You knew this was going to be nothing compared to his fingers. "Tell me if I need to stop."
You smiled, mockingly. Reminding him, "Not our first time together, Johnny." just our last.
"You were wrapped tight around my fingers." He gave a half smile before kissing your forehead. The gesture like a knife twisting in your heart. "I just don't want to hurt you."
"I'm ready." You brought your legs around his waist again. Pulling him to you, your arms wrapping around his neck as your mouths meet.
He presses into you. The head of his cock sliding inside just one or two inches. You body contracting around him in a small spasm. He swallows your moan and lets you adjust. He pulls away before looking down where the two of you meet.
"I could die like this, Lass." He said, his breath coming out unsteady as he tries his best to control himself. So close to just burying himself inside of you to the fucking hilt. "Seeing you like this is this first thing I want to see when I make it to the other side." You let out a choked cry as he pushes deeper inside you. Another inch. And another. And another until you're taking all of him.
He slurs something that sound like "fuck", but you are in too much of a daze to care. You arch into him, trying to get closer.
His thrusts are slow and deep. His pubic bone brushing against your clit making you whine and squirm. Begging for more.
You're not sure how long he had fucked you like that.
You needed it to stop.
You couldn't handle it. The softness. His words.
I could die like this, Lass.
Your lip quivered as you told him you wanted to be on top. You needed a moment. A chance to create a bit of space before he shattered your world yet again.
He pulled out. His absence already making you ache for him again before he settled beside you.
You squatted above his cock. Your feet flat against the mattress as you grabbed his hardness and slipping it inside of you. The sound you let out was pornographic. A high pitched, soft moan slipping from your lips as he buried himself inside of you again.
You placed you hands on his chest. Using the leverage to ride him. Your arms serving as barrier for you to get your bearings.
You used his body just as he had used yours. Throwing your head back, you moved faster and faster. Readjusting so your hands went from his chest to his stomach, giving him a better view of your connecting bodies.
His hand slips between the two of you, thumb pressing against your clit, and you tighten even more around. A needy whimper coming out of your throat. The sound mixing in with the sounds of his labored breathing and slapping skin as he begins to fuck up into you.
Even though he had been doing all the work for the last several minutes, you felt the tension start to creep into your calf.
"Fuck fuck fuck." You screech, barely able to hold yourself up any longer. "Ow." You hissed as the cramp took hold.
"Leg cramp?" He asked, not even faltering in his thrusts. You pathetically nod before he takes it upon himself to flip you on your back again.
"I'm going to do this every chance I can." He promises, pressing a searing kiss onto your exposed neck. "Any chance you'll give me." You can't take it. His words, his mouth, his fucking cock. It's too much. "I'm going to show you how much I want you. How much I want to fucking worship ye. Do anything to make you feel good. Not going to leave you again like that, Bonnie."
You reach for him again, pull him into a searing kiss just to shut him up. You need him to shut up. You couldn't take his false promises. You wouldn't survive it. Couldn't.
"Shit." His thrusts quicken, his thumb returning to your swollen bud. Flicking it in a way he had crafted into an art. He buries his face into your neck and you know he's getting close.
You weren't too far behind.
He didn't want to come, not yet, but this was fully out of his control. It was pathetic. A week without sex and you had him nearly coming in the first ten minutes.
But that's what you want. To see him lost in the idea that you would stay.
"Johnny." You groan out. "Please. Cum inside me."
He draws fast, beautiful circles around your clit that immediately push you over the edge. You shut your eyes tight, squeezing him like a vice as you come in strong waves, continuing to push inside you.
in out in out in out.
Deliciously clenching around him tighter and tighter until he can't take it anymore.
"Fuck," he says again, and you see it in his face, and you see it in his face, the second it's all over for him. You want to sear the image in your head. Keep it there forever. Knowing you'll never see it again. The way those enchanting blue eyes squint nearly shut before closing in complete ecstacy.
His mouth would open. A moan caught in his throat that he isn't ready to let go.
His hand closes around your hip, holding you to him while he presses as far as he can go, and it's only then do you feel his cock twitch in quick, jerky movements. He moans out your name before taking your mouth into a searing kiss.
"I fucking love you." He says. "So fucking much."
He was still under the blanket when you returned from the bathroom. You picked up your clothes up from the floor. Looking at the clock realizing you had less than five minutes to get out the door before you would be late for dinner.
"What are you doing?" he asked. You couldn't look at him. Hearing the panic in his voice almost made you stop. Tell him it really was just dinner with a colleague. A woman. That you would be back. Beg him to wait until you came home.
"I can't cancel on the dinner." You said slipping your feet into your heels. "This was a mistake."
You weren't sure why you said it. You weren't sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself. If you wanted to hurt him or make him think you regretted it when you would truthfully do it again. You would do it again and again. You would never stop.
Like Johnny, you could have died in that moment, but for a completely different. Where he would be content, you would be saved from the pain. The pain currently coursing throughout your very soul.
"Lock the door behind you." You say as you practically sprint out the bedroom. Only slowing in your stride to snatch your purse off the kitchen counter before running out. The door slamming behind you.
The restaurant was nicer than you expected. The wine alone was the price of an entree. You didn't seem to be phased at all and were relieved when Renée insisted on picking up the bill.
Your dinner had been delicious and the conversation even better. Renée wrote fantasy romance and wanted to pick your brain about a Why Choose. You had nearly spent out the over priced wine you weren't even really enjoying. Oh the irony.
"It's like all the rage now, but it's hard to make more than one appealing as the love interest. You should have seen the Goodreads comments on my last book. So many people bitched about my FMC not ending up with a character who was quite literally her adopted brother."
"So," you took a breath trying to find the words. "I'm going to be honest. I only read your latest book and I loved Luka. But I can't compare him to other MMCs you've written about so I don't know if they are similar or different. But what I can say is that I'm seeing like this trend of MMCs where they are all this dark-haired, brooding or mysterious character who dislikes mostly everyone and is only soft for either a select few or only the FMC."
"I think if you are going to write a Why Choose you need to think of guys you wouldn't mind falling in love with." You couldn't help, but think of what drew you to your boys. "One could be the leader. Someone who isn't afraid to have his neck on the line. To make sure everyone else is taken care of and being strong enough to handle the stress of that. He would be big on words of affirmation. Lifting the FMC up. For me, it would be someone that I know will take care of business. He's confident in his decision. That confidence would extend to me." You clear your throat. "If I was the FMC, that is."
"Okay." She nodded, pulling out a pen and notepad. "You don't mind if I-"
"I don't write about polygamy." Crossed that bridge. Currently trying to burn it. "So feel free."
"Another could be the one who it's so easy to fall in love with their charm. The one who falls to his knees. Wanting to worship every inch of her. The one who makes her laugh. That one to make her forget about the sadness that creeps into her bones. The one to hold her whenever he could. He's about quality time and physical touch."
"So different love languages." She said, her pen quickly scribbling.
"Yeah." You said, leaning forward. "Then there is the gift giver." Your mind went to Gaz. Most of the gifts and trinkets in the box sitting by your door had came from him. He had gotten you new earbuds when yours broke. When you were being harassed at your gym, he had bought you and him a membership at a different one. "The one who would give her the world if she asked for it. If you're going with a high fantasy then maybe the one to take note of something at a market that the FMC had been eyeing and he bought it for her. Just someone who takes notice like that."
"So acts of service would fall with all of them then you think?"
No. Simon had been the one who probably spent the least amount of money on you. He didn't praise you like John. He didn't even try to attach himself at your hip like Johnny.
But if you needed something fixed, he would come fix it himself. He'd be damned letting a strange man into your apartment. And alone? Fucking forget about it. The one who hated any sort of cardio activity outside of fucking you, but didn't hesitate in attempting to keep up with you when you wanted to go on a run and get some fresh air. If you needed something done, he didn't pay someone else to do it. He did it. If you wanted to do something, he made it happen. He made you safe.
You couldn't bring yourself to say explain it. Your eyes begin to itch. Warning you to think of something else.
So instead you just told her yeah. That they would all commit acts of service. And even in your hypothetical explanation of characters that haven't even been written yet, Simon was still the ghost among them.
"Lucky fucking girl." Renée said setting down her pen.
"Yeah." You said, downing the rest of your wine.
You walked home. The cool crisp wind feeling like it was whipping your exposed skin. It was soothing as the ghost of Johnny's touch still seemed to burn you.
You had hoped that you would get some closure, but you just felt hollow. You came twice and still manage to leave unsatisfied. Johnny wasn't malicious... he was Johnny. He wasn't like the others. Simon would never apologize and John and Kyle wouldn't try to keep reaching out after you told them know once.
Johnny couldn't stand you being mad at him. He never could. He would beg and beg for your forgiveness. You didn't regret fucking him one last time. He needed to know that you were well and truly done. There was no going back from this.
"Hey, Love!" You were pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a voice coming from a source you couldn't see. You perked up, quickly scanning the dimly lit street before your eyes settled on a cluster of shadows just across the street. "Yeah." The slurring voice said again. "Talking to you gorgeous!"
You resumed your trek home. Now picking up your pace. "Don't be like that! Where ya off to?" The voice followed you. You kept your gaze straight. You were three minutes away. Three minutes and you would be at your building.
Three minutes.
Three minutes.
"What's the rush?" Another voice joined the cacophony. "Just want to have a chat."
You turned. They were maybe twenty feet away. You kept your eyes glued to them as your started to make a run for it.
You had made it about ten feet before your body collided with someone. Firm hands gripped your upper arms, steading you as you threatened to fall back.
You sucked in a breath of air, ready to scream when you looked up. It was too dark to make out the man's facial features. He was tall. His head eclipsing the street lamp just behind him. You shook beneath his hands. The voices behind you now silent.
"Keep walking." You didn't need to see his face. You knew that deep timber voice anywhere. He released you from his grip before letting you pass him.
"Just wanted to have a chat." You heard one of them try to reason. "No harm done."
"No harm done yet." Was the last thing you heard Simon say before you broke out into a full fledged run.
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✎. simon will do this, if it makes johnny feel better.
tags. fem!reader, established relationship (simon/reader), threesome, double penetration in one hole, slight size kink, dirty talk [18+ only]
featuring. simon, soap
masterlist
Simon doesn’t share, but he makes an exception this time after his best friend’s date is a no-show, and he isn’t heartless enough to let Johnny hang out at the pub alone. Anybody will tell you: he can be a real nice guy when he wants to be.
And you don’t mind the extra company or another mouth to feed, that the flowers in the vase you put on the counter were meant for someone else, how Johnny gets flirty after his fourth beer, or—
“Fuck, love,” Simon grunts into your shoulder when he finally eases his cock into you beside Johnny’s. “I guess you can take it like a champ, after all.”
But you hardly hear him over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears and the creaky mattress below your knees.
Johnny thumbs away your tears while you tremble above him, cupping your face to pull you into a kiss so you have something to focus on other than the feeling of being split down the middle—it takes an extra amount of effort not to clench down when you already feel like you’re about to break in two.
“Look at you,” Johnny mumbles against your lips. “Never thought you’d really let me do this.”
Then he pulls out, slick heat gripping him the whole way, and pushes deeper inside, punching a shaky breath out of you.
He and Simon are in perfect sync, keeping you full while the other drags his cock out, only to fill you up again. It’s almost embarrassing how wet you are—at how much you like it—a hazy cloud settling over you as they use you for their pleasure.
Because Johnny’s sad, and you have a thing for making people happy.
Simon sucks little possessive marks into your shoulder and across your spine, murmuring filthy praise against your skin that consists of “sweetest and tightest pussy, my perfect little fucktoy” and “so fucking pretty.”
“That’s it.” Johnny’s voice is low and strained, barely heard above the loud squelching between your legs, but he sighs it into your mouth as he slowly comes apart. “Fuck—ah—you feel so good.”
A hand dips between you to press against your belly, where you can feel them, hot and heavy against your walls, making you squeal as a little ball of warmth travels down to your toes and all the way to the tips of your fingers. Simon fists your hair, tugging you away from Johnny so you’re looking up at him upside down.
“So greedy that you needed two cocks to fill this soft little cunt, huh?”
You whine, unable to form an actual response outside of a few jumbled syllables, but a slap against your ass makes you whisper a shuddered yes.
He tells you to open your mouth before he spits onto your awaiting tongue, some of it hitting your cheek. When you swallow obediently, he smears what doesn’t make it across your lips with the thick pad of his thumb.
“Don’t forget who you belong to,” he sneers, at odds with the soft way he kisses your cheek and reverently chokes on your name. Neither of you hear Johnny groaning under you as you clench down hard at the possessiveness in his voice—because at the feel of his wedding band pressing against your throat like a brand, how can you forget?
Simon doesn’t share, but this, he’ll do. Just this once because you’re already his, and he wants Johnny to know what it’s like to have a woman like you.
#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley imagine#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#ghost x reader#ghost smut#ghost imagine#cod smut#cod imagine#cod x reader#mw2 x reader#mw2 smut#mw2 imagine#soap x reader#soap smut#john mctavish x reader#.things i write
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