#one thing i noticed was that how they have barely changed? like they look the same then and now
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DCxDP Fic Idea: New Management
It starts off small, in controlled, barely noticeable areas of Gotham.
Over days, the litter and trash vanish, the sidewalks are washed and cleaned, and even building yards long since abandoned are trimmed. No one notices at first because Gotham is so used to ignoring how dirty everything is until Poison Ivy makes a public announcement thanking the person who cleaned up Gotham's parks.
You know, while she was tearing up that one street with her vine monster.
After the Bats had her locked away pending a trial, they stopped to look around and realized, yes, someone had been cleaning house. No one really knows who, but things have started to change. Streetlights are replaced, graffiti is painted over, and cracked windows are fixed. It's a nice thought, but all this had the gangs up in arms, especially when their tagging disappeared.
To control the goodie-two-shoes, a few gangs burn down a few local parks- mostly the ones near or around Crime Alley- and they also loot the smaller businesses. It's a warning that the mystery housekeeper should be reminded of their station, but- well, it's all for nothing because, like magic, the following night, the damage is repaired and somehow better than before.
What's crazy is the water change. Everyone notices that right away.
Gotham's water system was just as corrupted and descriptive as its class system. If you were one of the elites- your water was clean and crisp- if you were one of the poor- your water was practically tar with how contaminated it was. Anyone in between got a fifty-fifty chance of drinkable water, depending on what side of the city they lived on.
It became an identifier, really. Depending on how often you were seen at stores buying bottled water, people could tell how well off your family was.
That's why, on a random Wednesday, Gotham lost their collective mind that the entire water system was fixed. Regardless of class, every household had clear, scent-free water from the tabs.
The few who wandered outside trying to figure out what in the world was happening were left stunned at the sight of Gotham's surrounding bodies of water.
They were clean.
All the rivers, the harbors, the silly little fountains found around Old Gotham- everything. It was safe to swim in them now. That was just wrong.
"What's happening?" Jason growls, crouching at one of Wayne Manor's main windows. His eyes are barely visible over the edge, allowing him to peek out into the yard, but he must not be fully visible, lest he become a target.
"I don't know," Tim hisses, taking a similar position on the second floor. He grips the communicator with a white-knuckle grip, trying his best to ground himself. "I just don't know. There are no witnesses, no evidence, no clues whatsoever on who's doing this to the city!"
"I don't like this!"
"No one does, Jason," Bruce intervenes; the accompanying sound of keys typing is familiar background noise. He's still in the cave, attempting to run through all reports of horrified Gothamites on social media, trying to find a pattern. "Babs? Do you have any new updates?"
"No!" She hisses, her typing sounding far more aggressive. "I can't find anything on those responsible. Nothing on the internet, nothing on public camera feeds, and nothing on rumors through dark web chats. It's like I'm trying to track a ghost!"
"This isn't natural, B," Steph cuts in. She's hiding in her bedroom closet, voice low in case her mom hears. After they realize some new lunatic is running loose in Gotham, her mom calls her back home to barricade them. If they had a bomb shelter, they would have been in it long ago.
"It's worse than we think," Duke huffs. He's somewhere near the top floor, having chosen a higher vantage point, hoping his meta powers would spot someone coming towards the manor. "I think I see glimpses of blue in the sky. If this continues at this rate, we'll have a clear blue sky in about two hours."
Multiple gasps of horror are heard throughout the communication lines. Bruce starts to type faster, barking orders for everyone to remain where they are and not go gather information. They had no idea what they were dealing with.
Damian stands with a confused Cass, Dick, and Alfred. The only bats not originated from Gotham, so while they can claim to have years in the city, none of them truly know. "I do not understand. Is this not beneficial to Gotham?"
"It may be too much at once, Master Damian." The Bulter tells him carefully. He only speaks that slowly when Alfred thinks of every word before saying it. "Whoever is behind this must not be from Gotham. If they were, they know that people would lose their collective minds upon the improvements."
"But who could be responsible?" Cass asks, watching Jason duck and army crawl to a new window once some sunlight manages to break through the clouds where he was originally hiding.
"I wish I knew Miss Cass."
Meanwhile, Danny Fenton leans back in his computer chair in a dimension of hope and a skip away. He laces his fingers together, bending them until satisfying cracks are heard. It was a productive hour of work, but he thinks now that his virtual city had cleaner water, his NPCs should start healing and developing better.
He was suspicious of Madam Gotham—a new ghost that appeared within his territory of the Ghost Zone—but after a quick conversation, he decided to befriend her. Danny is glad he did, seeing as she was in danger of fading away. Her core had suffered severe damage due to denying her obsession for so long.
Danny could do nothing for her. Madam Gotham needed professional help that only certain Yetis could offer. Although the Yetis usually turned away anyone not of their kind, with Danny backing her up, they had been willing to take in Madam Gotham.
She had been stubborn, though, refusing to get help because she was too busy playing her silly little game. The computer she played it on was unique to her realm and could not withstand the cold temeture of the Far Frozen. Danny was literally watching her melt—a horrific reminder of Dani and her siblings' disabling—before he could take it anymore.
Only after agreeing to watch her video game did she decide to be moved to the Far Frozen to receive medical treatment. Now, Danny never really liked those farming simulator games, but this was different in the sense that the city was already there.
His job was to further develop the city into a utopia. It was interesting to learn what modern issues the city had and how he could make decisions based on point costs on what to fix.
He gained points from making his citizens happier, supporting the Bats—the city's defenders—or choosing to develop options that significantly raised the value of his city.
It was rather addicting, really. He could see how Madam Gotham got so sucked in, even though it didn't really have much action for him to make. Mostly, he would let his citizens react to his new choices and use his points to delete trash and gunk.
There were some side quests he liked to work on, too, like helping certain citizens with drug addiction, depression, anxiety, or anger issues. Danny has no idea why Madam Gotham allowed so many to develop so badly, so every day, he would give them all one good luck point to brighten their days.
He had three full tabs of characters, a brief explanation of their lives, and whatever issues Danny could make them go through. He would tackle the number of homeless youth next by fixing up the city's affordable housing and infrastructure.
It was a bit narcissistic of Madam Gotham to name her game town "Gotham City," but it's better than any name Danny could have come up with.
#dcxdpdabbles#dcxdp crossover#New Managment#Part 1#Danny is playing sims with Gotham#Everyone Gotham born is freaking out#It's not natrual#Gotham was actively making things worse for them#Danny is not aware that he's a managing a actual city
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Honestly I would love to hear your thoughts on all of the concepts you mentioned, but I’m especially intrigued by “reader who came back Wrong” and Simon getting possessed - if you feel like sharing of course <3
I just did the Possessed!Simon one here, so let’s do reader who came back Wrong
-a bit similar set up to SpecGru reader tbh. Reader and Simon have a fraternizing thing going on. They’re definitely more invested than Simon
-simon is a shit, per usual. It’s not enough to hint or just brush off gently. No, he’s gotta be nuclear about it
-reader lasts a couple months of trying (and failing) to pretend they have their feelings under control. Doesn’t help that Simon is sending mixed signals by still wanting to fuck them
-initiate strategy: time away
-reader takes a long-term assignment with a different team, but it is temporary. Theyre home is still with the 141, issues with Simon aside
-what was supposed to be a year becomes 18 months. At month 6 contact with all of the 141 (not just Simon) decreases. At month 9 it cuts off entirely. At month 13, Kate admits that a mission didn’t go according to plan but the 141 is not authorized to intervene
-at month 17 she announces that reader is finally coming back
-reader steps off the plane with bad scars on their face and a uniform with no patches (borrowed)
-they smile at the 141, express how much they missed their boys….
-but there’s just the slightest hesitation when Gaz hugs them. An uncharacteristic twitch in their fingers when Johnny throws an arm around their shoulder. They keep looking to Laswell for direction instead of Price. And they barely seem to notice Simon is there at all
-Simon is the only one to notice. And he keeps noticing.
-their signature has changed. He sees their after-action reports first and he almost doesn’t recognize it. Handwriting is off too
-they smile just a bit too slow at jokes that used to be just their type of comedy
-Johnny suggests a movie they used to love and they make little comments almost like this is the first time they’re seeing it
-Simon catches them eating banana one day. They hate banana.
-they keep looking at him weird. Just… weird. Like someone they know but can’t remember the name of. Except they do know his name - or at least his last one. They keep calling him “Riley” something they never did even during their worst arguments
-price notices too. Their combat is Off. no ones getting injured and yet… they don’t fight like they used to either
-they ask Laswell what happened. She says it’s classified.
-it won’t be for much longer
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His Good Girl 🎀
Pairing: dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader
Summary: you’re famous in the capitol, everyone wants you or to be you, but only coriolanus get to have you. the night you and him take your relationship public, his jealousy and possessive nature overcomes him. he decides to make it clear who you belong to.
Warning: 18+ smut, praise kink, dom!snow, sub!reader, fingering, p in v, oral (f receiving), cum play, hickeys, possessiveness, jealously, porn with a plot
Word count: 5.1k
A/N: hello again :D! wow back to back posts look at me go. so i was struggling to figure out what i was going write next and didn’t expect to post again so soon until like next week, but i stumbled across this in my notes app last night after i published my billy the kid fic and here we are. so enjoy! im not sure what to write about next still. may drop a pedro fic next who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ so anyways here is another dark!coryo for ya ❣︎
Artwork
୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧
Snow found you sitting by the window in his bedroom, gazing out upon the pedestrians as they walk by.
You hadn’t heard him come in and aren’t alerted to his presence until the door closes behind him. You startle and whip your head around. He stands still behind you, his head cocked to the side slightly as he examines you, with a devilish grin on his face. His eyes trail up and down your body. You weren’t expecting him to be home yet, so he had found you in your silk, pink robe embroidered with small white roses. You were clearly fresh out of the shower and about to change into something suitable for the evening and dinner later that night.
“You’re home!” You exclaim
“Is that ok?” Coriolanus asked knowing that the question was completely rhetorical. As if he could only come to his own home whenever you felt it was suitable.
“I just wasn’t expecting you home so early. At least not for two more hours. I was hoping to be all ready for you.” You explain
All ready for him. Coriolanus liked how submissive that sounded. He likes when you were obedient and perfect for him. Especially the last few months as you and him took your relationship further. By now, he has expected you to be at his apartment by the time Coriolanus had gotten home from the University. Given your schedule, he knew he wasn’t keeping you from anything or taking you away from anything either. So where else would you have to go except come to his apartment. And you did.
“I can see. What are you wearing tonight?” Coriolanus asks
Excitedly, you bounce up and rush over to the wardrobe where your dress is hanging up. In your hurry, your robe reveals a part of your bare thighs which Coriolanus takes note of and enjoys the subtle view of your body. You open one of the doors and reveal a pink dress hanging on the back of the door. It’s silk like your robe and Coriolanus already knows that the moment you have it on, he’ll want to tear it off you.
“It’s the one you said you liked the other day at the shop so I sent in an order and had it sent here today.”
Coriolanus thought to himself as he takes a few strides towards you. Good. You are sending things to his apartment. As it should be.
“Just as beautiful as the girl wearing it.” He smiles and walks over behind you.
He grabs your shoulders and his lips give your neck a firm kiss, directly on your pulse. You take the dress from the inside of the door and reveal the mirror attached to the inside of the wardrobe. You hold it up to you, imagining what it will look like on you tonight. You catch Coriolanus’s gaze in the mirror. His blue eyes are piercing through your soul as usual, but there was now a cloud of lust swirling in them. His hands snake towards your waist. He slithers them under your robe and rests them just above your hips. You pretend to not care or notice his actions, but the growing heat in between your legs wants you to give in to him. You tame your labored breathing as you smooth the dress out in front of your body.
“And what will you be wearing, my love?” You ask
“I picked out an all black suit this week. I’ll make sure to adorn a white rose now that I’ve seen this.” He states taking a piece of the pink fabric in between his thumb and fore finger “and you’ll put one in your hair, just in case people forget who you belong to.”
“Well I was already planning on wearing the black diamond necklace you gave me. The one with your initials carved on the back.” You respond touching the center of your chest where the necklace would lay. “Or perhaps I should wear the black lace choker…the once with the gem?”
One of Coriolanus’s hands travels up to your neck. As beautiful as the choker was, the thought of you wearing the black necklace with his initials around your neck seems perfect for tonight. It would tell everyone at that dinner that you were undoubtedly his. Yes, it was perfect.
“The necklace will look nice on you tonight. Wear it.” He whispers in your ear, tugging at it slightly with his teeth. You gasp, finally breaking and giving in slightly. The hand, not wrapped around your throat, travels up and down your thigh.
“Whatever you want.” You whisper back trying to hold back a moan as Coriolanus places a light kiss to your jawline. His hand holds your face up to look at him as he does. It’s hypnotic to watch and he knows it.
“If you behave tonight, you’ll be sure to be rewarded.” He reminds you
You hang the dress back up and he spins you around. He dips in and gives you a proper kiss on the lips. He pulls back soon and mumbles against your lips
“Understand?”You nod your head. He tuts at you and squeezes your hips.
“Say it.”
“I understand.”
The two of you finish getting ready. Coriolanus takes his own shower while you attend to your hair and makeup. Thankfully, being around Tigris meant she was always helping to style you. She had taught you what makeup and hairstyle looks best with certain outfits or styles of dress. So for tonight a soft, baby doll look. And your hair, Tigris decides to put half of it up, tying it in place, then setting it with a white rose, just as Coriolanus asked. You take a look at yourself in the mirror. You’re stunning. Sexy and yet elegant. Your makeup was perfect too. You had a faint tint of red blush on your cheeks and nose, your lips were glossy and plump like a ripe plum. You batted your eyes, now long and defined with mascara and smile at yourself.
When Coriolanus finally sees you as you exit his vanity closet, he’s stuck in place. Temptation washing over him. Tigris spun you around, showing you off to him. She left the room, leaving the two of you alone to finish getting ready. You attach your earrings and finally adorn the necklace. You put on a pair of strappy pink heels and find your purse.
“Ready?” You ask admiring how handsome Coriolanus looks in his suit.
Coriolanus steps towards you, closely examining you as he does. His mouth curves into a half grin. As if he is pleased by the sight in front of him. The dress hugs your body beautifully and the half slit up your thigh is tempting. He grips his hands around your waist.
“I am. You look incredible my dove.” He remarks placing a kiss on your forehead
“As do you. Almost perfect.”
“Almost?” he inquires
You nod your head and walk over to the side table next to his bed. Coriolanus takes note and how the dress falls on your hips and how they sway gracefully, yet subtly from side to side. You pick a rose from the vase on the table. You open the drawer and pull out a safety pin and walk back to him. You stand in front of him and look up at him as you pin the white rose to his lapel. You show off the back of your hair. He touched the rose in your hair and smiled. You turn back to him, wrap your arms around his neck, and whisper into his ear.
“Now you are ready.”
You and Coriolanus leave the house, enter the car, and give the driver the directions. Tonight was to be a “private dinner”, however it was truly anything but. The guest list was to be consisted mostly of Panem’s up and coming young politicians from the senior class at the University. Around thirty students, each permitted to bring a guest. It wasn’t anything too special, but rumors of Coriolanus Snow seeing someone had become rather out of hand. So what made tonight special for the pair of them was the public nature in which they were officially announcing their relationship.
Up until now you and him have tried to keep things a secret to avoid attention from the news, given you are a prominent member in The Capitol. Especially your family. Your father had helped create a new weapon manufacturing business after the war and had been regularly contracted by The Capitol to create weapons in the last few years. He had become good friends and business associates with Strabo Plinth. It gave your family status and you some newfound fame. In turn it would help give Coriolanus some as well. But Coriolanus had you in his life for much more than just that. Having you as his own. His girl. It felt thrilling.
Thrilling to know that only he got to have you. It was no secret that your looks were talked about often. Simply because you were so beautiful with a beloved last name. A name almost impossible to escape given your father’s philanthropy as well as service to The Capitol. So the fact that Snow got to have you. Out of all the other wealthy and famous girls, you were the most desirable. The most popular and loved.
Coriolanus rubs your semi-exposed thigh and watches you watch the city pass by.
“Are you nervous my dove?” he asks
You look over at him and smile. You shake your head.
“Not at all.”
Despite this being a private dinner, he was sure that, by the time they left, word of their romantic relationship would get out and the press will try and snap a picture of them. A type of attention Coriolanus hadn’t received in a while and wasn’t sure how he would react this time around. Your attitude towards this evening however, put him a little more at ease.
“Are you?” You follow up
“Slightly. Not ready for all the attention that we will probably get after tonight.”
You look at him sympathetically and squeeze the hand that is rubbing your thigh.
“It will be fine” You reassure him
He looks at you with a new found sense of confidence. He squeezes her thigh as she continues to grip his hand.
The driver arrives to the mansion where the dinner is held. The house of the Dean of Political Science. Coriolanus steps out, rushes to your side and opens the door. He extends his hand and you take it. Both your arrivals change the dynamic of the party. You move through the crowd towards a group of Coriolanus’s classmates. The polite nods, chatter, and occasional laughs turn into head turns, double takes and whispers as you walk past people. Coriolanus looks at you as you walk. You seem unbothered by the attention and loop your arm around his elbow. Once you make it to your table, his classmates greet him.
“Ah Coriolanus! Good to see you!” Festus Creed exclaims
“You as well Festus.”
“And might I say it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Festus follows up extending his hand to you. You take it and greet him.
“Nice to meet you”
Coriolanus officially introduces you and Festus to each other. You then turn to smile at a few of Coriolanus’s classmates hanging around, but they stay back as to not intrude on your boyfriend’s conversation. They whisper to one another. You couldn’t tell if they were talking about you though. What you couldn’t tell was if it was good or bad. Coriolanus knew however. The sneering looks and childish giggles of Livia Cardew and Clemensia Dovecote were looks that he was all too familiar with. Coriolanus looks at you. You seem to have slipped into a polite conversation with Festus, who by the sound of it seems to be a fan. You indulge his enthusiasm. Coriolanus nods at you and walks over to investigate the conversation between Clemensia and Livia’s conversation. As he approaches they seem too caught up to notice him.
“I mean the matching roses. So cheesy.” Clemensia snickers
“And the matching colors. Like give me a break.” Livia follows up
“Also what is that. A night gown? She looks like a whor-“ Clemensia starts
“Clemensia. Livia. How are you two this evening?” Coriolanus asks firmly, cutting her off
“Oh Coriolanus!” Clemenisa startles “Good to see you.” She says, suspicious of if he had overheard their conversation.
“Anything the matter?” He asks
“No. Why would something be wrong?” Livia asks
“I hope there wouldn’t be.” He states in a somewhat threatening manner
“So your date. What a surprise.” Clemensia sneers not at all intimidated by Coriolanus’s stern manner
Coriolanus starts to feel a strong wave of protection over you, with a slight tinge of possession. He looks at Clemensia with a threatening look masked in curiosity.
“How so? I thought there was rumors of us floating around am I wrong?” He asks
“There were, just interesting to see them be confirmed. Happy for you.” She smiles “Seems like you’re not the only one who is infatuated by her.” She snickers
Coriolanus whips his head around to see that a crowd has gathered around you. A few more of the male students in addition to Festus. They ogle you and subtly fight for your attention. Coriolanus finds himself slowly filling up with rage. He forces a smile to Livia and Clemensia, excuses himself, and walks over to you. You watch him as he walks over. He moves to stand behind you, placing both his hands on your shoulders. He dips down to kiss your cheek and you smile.
“Making friends” he jokes trying to hide his anger
“Apparently” you whisper back
As you and Festus continue the conversation and Coriolanus tries to contain himself. He rubs your shoulders. He’s fuming with anger at Clemensia and Livia. And at the other men trying to steal your attention. Part of that is his fault for walking away from you. Letting them have access to your attention. Still, how dare they. And how dare anybody try to insult you. He wouldn’t stand for it. The evening continues and Coriolanus keeps you close to him for the remainder of the dinner. He watches the people around you. The group of boys from before seem to keep their distance now that Coriolanus refuses to leave your side. He also keeps a close eye on Clemensia and Livia. He wants to teach them a lesson for their gossip and wants to gouge that group of boys eyes’ out.
He tries to temper his anger, but his paranoia seems to continually get the best of him. Maybe you’ll leave him for one of them. Get bored, think taking the relationship public like this is too much. Maybe you do think the matching roses are cheesy and think he’s silly for suggesting it. He glances around at the numerous eyes looking at you. He tries to convince himself that every man looking in your general direction isn’t looking at you but he can’t help but notice how their eyes seem to linger. They way they gawk at you disgusts him.
You and him leave, making sure not to linger after dinner is served. Coriolanus is anxious to leave, practically rushing you out of the mansion and into the car. There is an awkward silence on the way back to his apartment and you try to talk to him, but he just shakes his head and whispers firmly “I’ll explain when we get back.”
His mood seems to escalate as the car approaches the apartment. When it arrives he rushes out in a hurry and you thank the driver before trailing behind him.
“Coryo? What’s wrong.” You ask
“Just get inside” he huffs
You walk past him into his apartment and he follows you. He shuts the door and lets out deep breath in frustration.
“What’s wrong?” You ask again
“I can’t stand how people treat you?” He huffs
“What do you mean?”
“The way they talk, the way they look at you.” He explains. He walk over to a chair in the kitchen and flops himself down. His chest rises rapidly as he looks down at the floor. He tries to control his breathing, but the thought of how that group of boys looked at you, plays in his mind. And he can still hear the obnoxious giggles of Clemensia and Livia.
“And you think that I care? That’s how it always is for me.” You sigh with a laugh
Coriolanus still feels upset however and his body language doesn’t change. He’s still fuming.
“What about the attention from all the boys tonight. Do you care about them?” He perks up
“Is that what’s truly bothering you?” You ask stepping closer behind his chair.
“Partly.”
“And what else?” You ask standing behind, placing your hands on his shoulders.
“A few of my other classmates. I caught them gossiping about us.” He confesses
“Hmm. They are probably just jealous.”
He doesn’t respond as he tries to calm himself down.
“I just want to put them all in their place. Show them they shouldn’t mess with us.”
You start to massage his shoulders and he begins to lean back into the chair and relax. You move your hands up towards his neck and continue to massage him. “And tell me what would you do to them?” You ask.
“I want to sew those girls mouth shut. And tear those boys eyes out.”
“Mmm. Maybe you can find something special for them in Dr. Gaul’s lab” you whisper as you feel Coriolanus sink further into your touch. You run your hands up and down his chest. “Or turn them into avoxes. So they never speak again.”
“And those boys?” Coriolanus asks
“Well if you’re upset at them then you’ll have to put a price on everyone’s head who looks at me like that.”
“I just don’t want them getting ideas” he replies
You giggle and continue rubbing his chest.
“Well they’ll think what they want. Not much I can do there. But it doesn’t matter because they’ll never have me. It’s a game to them. And they’ll never win. They will always lose.” You pause to kiss his cheek “And Snow always lands on top right?” You whisper kissing his earlobe and the side of his jaw. He groans and leans his head back in response. You cup the side of his face and rub his cheek. He turns his head and kisses the inside of your palm.
“You’re the only one who gets to touch me. To have me. Only you. No one else gets that right except you.” You whisper
“Am I?” He asks
“Mhmm” you nod
“Show me”
Coriolanus grips your wrist. He pulls your hand off his face and tugs at it, signaling that he want you to come in front of him. You walk around and stand in front of him briefly. He looks at you lustfully and spreads his legs. You stand in between them and grin at him. He rubs your hand as you slide onto his lap. As you sit, you guide his hand to your thigh and under your dress, slowly guiding him.
“See. Only you.”
He inches up and down your thigh. His fingertips graze the inside, making the heat that has begun to bubble up in between your legs more apparent. You move your hips against his crotch and feel his semi-hard cock aching to be free from the confines of his pants. You lean in and kiss him. He kisses you back and snakes his hand further up your thigh. He brushes his fingertips across your core and feels how wet and hot you have become. He lets out a breathy moan, breaking the kiss.
“Is this only for me too?” He mutters. You nod your head and he snakes two fingers under your panties. He starts to lightly rub at your clit. “You look beautiful tonight.”
“So then I can’t be blamed for wondering eyes now can I?” You whisper back
“No, but they will pay. All of them.” He mouths at your jawline and down to your neck. You tilt your head back, giving him better access. He sinks into your neck, with the goal of marking you up. To show everyone that you belong to him. He sucks and bites on your skin, turing the flesh into fresh black and blue bruises. You whimper at the sensation as you melt into his chest.
“Coryo” you whisper
His free hand begins to grope your breasts over the dress and he moves his hand back down your thigh. He swings your legs over his lap and shifts on his seat. He picks you up unexpectedly and you gasp in surprise. You cling to him. He takes you to his bedroom and tosses you on the bed. You gather yourself and scoot back, as he strips himself of his sports coat. He unbuttons his shirt halfway down, then eagerly, he pulls at your ankles. You yelp and he slides you towards him. He smirks at the look of awe on your face. He could tell you were hungry for him. Not just that, but you seem mesmerized by him. Coriolanus couldn’t tell if it was because of the way your eyes were filled with need or that his clear possessiveness over you had you wondering about what was in store for you. He ran his hands up your thighs, pushing your dress up past your hips. He kneels down and his fingers trace the lining of your panties. You jerk your hips slightly and he takes the opportunity to slide them off your legs. You bite your lower lip in an attempt to hold back your moans, but they stifle out as little whimpers that go straight to Coriolanus’s cock.
“So needy for me.” He smirks
He kisses the inside of your thigh and grazes his teeth over the spot he kissed. He begins to leave the same marks he put on your neck. You can’t help but love how much he’s marking you. You know it’s only because he’s frustrated and wants everyone to know not to mess with you. You whine in frustration, needing Coriolanus to touch you.
“Please Coryo. I want you so bad”
He gives you a devilish grin and squeezes your thighs. “Mmm keep begging pretty girl.”
“I need you. Please just touch me.” You whine
He begins kissing your thigh again, all the way up until he reaches your core. You shutter at the feeling as his lips press against your clit. He moves you closer to him and you rest your legs on his shoulders. You reach for his blonde hair, running your fingers through it. He restrains his actions, only pressing light kisses on and around your clit.
“Coryo please…please.” You beg again
“Mmm that’s it.” He moans
He dives in His mouth fully devouring your pussy. He mouths at your clit and you instinctively squeeze your thighs around his face. He presses your legs apart and devours you even more. He sucks and nibbles at your sensitive bud, taking in the pleasure that is spread across your face. Coriolanus likes having this control over you. He likes hearing the small, soft whines that escape your lips and he loves how you beg for him. How you need him. It makes his ego swell in his chest. He knows you’re addicted to him. He knows that he makes you feel so good. He laps up your wetness and runs his tongue along your folds. It makes your hips buck, causing him to put a stern hand on your stomach.
“Take it baby girl. Try to stay still.” He murmurs against you
You nod your head as he gives kitten licks to your clit before sucking it into his mouth. Without warning, he removes his mouth and replaces the sensation with his fingers. He watches you carefully as your face contorts. He doesn’t hold back as he pumps his fingers into you. You look even more beautiful for him like this. Willing and submissive to his touch. You’re perfect, pretty face scrunched up in pleasure. He drinks you in as he runs his tongue up your thigh. You jerk your hips and he pushes your body back down on the bed. You’re throbbing at this point, so hypnotized under him. He crawls back up to you. His tongue licks a long stripe up your neck, just as he did to your thigh.
“So desperate. Are you gonna be good for me?”
You nod your head, which lands you a firm slap to the meat of your thigh.
“Speak up princess.” He warns
“Yes Coriolanus, I’ll be good for you.”
He strokes the side of your face, his knuckles brush up against your cheek. His hand moves to grip your chin and under your jaw. He forces you to look into his sinful gaze. He leans in and clashes his mouth with yours. He fights to dominate the kiss and you let him. He sits you up as you continue to kiss him. He unzips the back of your dress and it slides down your shoulders. In the same motion, Coriolanus unhooks your bra. He brushes your straps from your shoulders and pulls the rest of the dress from your body. You lay there, completely bare for him. You feel vulnerable, especially given his clothes are still on. You feel like his prey.
“So beautiful like this.” He states rubbing your thighs. He sits up on his knees, towering over you. He begins to explore your body with his hands. He moves them up to kneed and cup your breasts. His fingers gently massage your nipples as he pulls at them. You wince at his actions, squirming under his touch.
“Coryo please I need more…” you beg, your tone sounding desperate and whiny
He smirks. He leans down close to you and gives you a few chase kisses to your neck and up to your ear.
“I like how you sound when you beg. So pretty.”
He tugs at your earlobe with is teeth, causing you to shutter. The action of it going straight to your throbbing core. He rubs his fingers through your slit, humming to himself. He removes them, causing you to whine. He unbuttons the rest of his shirt, revealing his perfectly toned chest. He then unzips his pants and steps out of them. At this point his cock is hard and ready under his briefs. He rubs himself through his underwear as he gazes down at you.
“Touch yourself.” He commands and you obey
Your fingers dragging through your folds slowly as you look back up at him, mouth agape.
“There you go. Good girl.”
“Coryo” you whisper. He smirks at you and pulls his briefs down and his cock springs forward. This isn’t your first time with Coriolanus. Still, every time you got nervous and he could tell. Your fingers slow down and you think about having to take him in you.
“What’s wrong my pet?”
“Just you’re so big Coryo.”
He gives you another smirk “Yeah, but you can take it right? You always take me so well.” He growls, slithering his hand around your neck.
He kisses you as he lines himself up with your entrance. He slides in slowly. At first it’s painful and he keeps his eyes focused on your face to get a read on how you feel. You temper your breathing and try to fixate on how handsome the face staring back at you is. He pushes into more until he reaches the hilt and his hips meet yours. You sigh in relief as the pain replaces with pleasure. You moan and he captures your lips. He dominates you. His lips move fast with yours. He’s clearly just as hungry for you as you are needy for him. His tongue swirls around with yours and he starts to move his hips. You moan again and he breaks the kiss. He looks down at the spot where you both connect and shutters. His gaze returns to yours.
“See. Look how well you take me. Just like you always do. So good for me.”
You nod your head in agreement and wince. He picks up his pace, thrusting deeper and deeper each time. His cock drags in and out of your pussy with ease now, the pain totally subsided. You nod in agreement, but that doesn’t satisfy Coriolanus. He needs to hear you say how much you like it. How much you crave this feeling he gives you. A feeling only he can give you.
“Talk to me. Use that pretty mouth of yours.”
“You feel so good.” You start hesitantly
“More.” He demands
“Mmhm Coryo you fill me up so well. Better than anyone else.” You moan
“The best you’ve ever had?”
“Mhmm.” You moan
In response he grabs your chin and forces you to look into his eyes.
“Use. Your. Words” he demands,, pumping into you harder with each word.
“Yes Coryo, you’re the best I ever had. And you’re the only one I want ooh…” you whine
“Good girl.” He grits through his teeth, giving you more of himself. He hit deeper and deeper, his lust fully overtaking him. He kisses you harshly, pinching and massaging your cheeks. “Only I get to have you like this. You understand?”
“Yes Coryo. I understand.” You mewl
He nods against your mouth. You feel your buildup coming, tense in your stomach, waiting to release. With a few final thrusts, you come around his cock. Your hips buck up, legs shaking, cunt throbbing as he fucks you through your euphoria. Soon enough he’s finishing inside you, stuffing warm ropes of white cum down your hole. You float down from the feeling that he gave you and temper your breathing. He pulls out, admiring as his cum drips out of you. He gets greedy, taking his index finger and pushing it back into you. You moan as he fingers you
“My sweet girl. I hope you know who is here for you. I’ll always watch over you. I’ll never let anyone disrespect you again.”
He pulls his hand away and traces his fingers over your neck, where he had previously sucked and marked you up. He smirked to himself. He puts his finger in your mouth. You suck yours and his collective cum off it and he coos at you.
“I get you all to myself. How fortunate for us both then hmm.
“Mhmm.” You nod, too fucked out to properly respond. As much as Coriolanus wanted you to speak, but he could see how spent you are. He kisses her cheek and settled into the bed next to her.
“Good girl.” He said letting his word be the last.
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Artwork
#dark!coriolanus snow#coriolanus smut#coriolanus snow x fem!reader#dark!coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus x you#tbosas#tbosas fanfiction#tom blyth#tom blyth fanfiction#coriolanus x reader#fan fiction#x reader#smut#smut fanfiction
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Oooh open requests! May I have King Baldwin with a wife reader who sweetly helps him treat his wounds regardless of how he tells her not to come into direct contact with his skin? Please, do it nice and fluffy, if it's not too much trouble! Thank you!
WEDDING NIGHT: Baldwin IV x reader
CWs → fluff, probable historical inaccuracies, she/her pronouns, leprosy, christianity and mentions of god, reader and baldwin just got married!
Note: This is the first request I've ever responded to! Thank you so much for sending it in, I really hope you enjoy! <3 Also this was supposed to be a drabble but I got carried away
Wordcount: 2k
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞
Baldwin was laying on his stomach with his bandaged arms and legs stretched out across the large mattress, and his face nuzzled into a plush pillow. The day had been strenuous for him, requiring much more standing than he was accustomed to, and his body ached terribly. Though originally just on his hands and face, the disease had recently spread up past his wrist and onto a small patch of his back, causing an uncomfortable burning sensation every time his clothing brushed against it. He was waiting for his physician to arrive and apply his nightly soothing salve, which usually helped to relieve some of the discomfort that resulted from the intense dryness of his skin. But when the door opened, instead of his physician, it was you.
Hastily, he sat up, looking around to find something to cover himself with. Besides the bandages wrapped around his ribcage, arms, and the middle of his face, the only thing he had on was a pair of white linen shorts. You covered your mouth and giggled as he scrambled to grab his robe from the nearby chair it was draped over.
“My lord, that really won’t be necessary. I’m only going to take it right back off once you put it on,” you said playfully, closing the door behind you and sauntering towards him. You were carrying a small basket in your left hand. He furrowed his brow and instinctually clutched the fabric to his chest, hoping it covered most of his exposed skin. A wave of heat rushed to his head, and he suddenly felt a bit dizzy.
“Lady Y/N– I mean, Your Highness, what are you doing here?” he asked, his voice betraying his mild panic as his eyes followed you across the bedroom. You had changed out of your wedding gown in favor of a tightly fitting dress of a deep emerald green and a low neckline– typical attire for a bride on her wedding night. Heat rose to his cheeks as he admired his new queen’s attractive figure, on display just for him. He really hadn’t been expecting this. You had to know that, given his condition, consummating the marriage would be more trouble than it was worth, and attempting to sire an heir with him would be a completely fruitless endeavor. Why, then, were you standing before him, looking like the very picture of grace and beauty? You smiled gently at him, setting down the basket and taking a seat on the edge of the bed.
“Let me help you. Please, lie back down so I can take those bandages off,” you murmured, trying to keep your voice as even as possible. You waited a moment, but he only gawked, eyes still shamelessly concentrating on your choice of wardrobe. You sighed and placed a hand over his bandaged one, looking deeply into his eyes.
“I promise I’ll be gentle.”
He hummed sadly, shaking his head no, knowing he could not give you what you wanted.
“I believe that you would, but I cannot allow it. If you were to come into contact with my bare skin…” he trailed off. You bit your lip. You knew he wouldn’t agree to it.
He noticed your disappointment, and his eyes softened a little.
“Look at you, your skin is so pure…if anything were to happen to it on my account, I could never forgive myself. Not only because of the pain it would inflict upon you, but also for my own selfish reasons.” He spoke slowly, letting his words sink in.
“My wife, you are so beautiful, and so smart. You have so much to give, and you are everything I am not. If you were to put yourself at risk of becoming like me, you would be condemning yourself to a short, bitter life of wasted potential. Though I may not be long for this world, I want to spend the remainder of my days admiring you and all that you bring. Please do not forsake the gifts God has given you for fleeting desires of the flesh,” he begged. His blue eyes were so wide, pleading, swimming with genuine emotion, but it wasn’t enough to break you. You knew what you wanted.
“Baldwin,” you said, addressing him directly for the first time, “Just this once, please. Let me do this for you.”
You tugged lightly at the fabric bunched up in his grasp. He resigned, allowing you to pull it away and discard it at the foot of the bed, leaving his mostly bare chest exposed to your intimate gaze. No woman had ever seen this much of him before. He watched as your eyes traced his body, beginning at his delicate neck and protruding collar bones, then down to the smooth expanse of creamy skin covering his chest, and finally to his well-defined middle. Those parts of him had yet to be contaminated by his affliction. You had yet to ever come into contact with his bare skin, but the way you were studying him, he could almost feel the sweet sensation of your fingertips ghosting over his body.
“Y/N, I’m sorry if you had hopes of…enjoying a true wedding night with me, but I must be honest with you, even if it does cause me great pain and regret-”
You hushed him quietly, clasping his hand in yours a little tighter.
“No, my love, you don’t have to explain to me. I understand. That is not what I came for. I simply wanted to take care of my husband.” You smiled, the corners of your eyes crinkling as you gazed down at him lovingly. He let out a breath and untensed his shoulders, relieved that he wasn’t letting you down after all. The sight of you smiling down at him with all the love in the world melted his heart, and his resolve broke.
“Alright. But please promise me you will cleanse yourself thoroughly afterwards. We must do everything we can to prevent the spread,” he whispered, dropping his hand to allow you to have your way with him.
Slowly, carefully, you reached for him, stretching your fingertips out and finally grazing them against the middle of his chest. He inhaled sharply, watching in awe. Your touch was feather-light, but it sent a spark of heat straight to his heart. His skin tingled. Gently, you applied a bit of pressure, encouraging him to lay back. He stared into your eyes and refused to look anywhere else as he readjusted his position, locks of blond hair shifting away from his brow as he reclined.
“That’s it, just like that. Perfect. Now, just relax, I brought some oils and salves for you. I’m going to take this bandage off now, okay?” You said, reaching for his wrapped hand. He nodded, and you slowly began unwinding the linens, peeling them away to reveal the most decayed part of his body; his right hand. Any skin left intact on it was shaded by a grayish hue, and the rest was just angry, red, open sores. You fought the urge to wince, not because it disgusted you, because it didn’t, but because you empathized with Baldwin, feeling the pain he must have felt in that moment. The bandages you removed were dotted with blood and other secretions from the angry wounds.
You continued unraveling, all the way up his arm, and its condition gradually improved the further up you got. Then you moved to the other arm, repeating the same process. Soon, it was time to attend to the linens coiled around his torso, protecting the rash on his back.
“Can you sit up for me, please?”
He wordlessly obeyed, watching you work through his curtain of fine, golden hair. You scooted over until you were fully seated on the bed, face to face with him. He was suddenly glad for the bandage covering most of his cheeks and nose, so you didn’t detect the blush rapidly spreading across them.
You reached around with your left arm and placed your cool palm against his shoulder blade to steady him as you pulled away the bandages. He sat as still as possible, not sure what to do with himself. His heart was about to beat out of his chest. Your hand was so soft, so slow…it was lulling him into a trance. He sighed deeply, letting the air roll all the way through his lungs. You deftly unweaved the bandage with your delicate fingers, working swiftly to avoid any discomfort that the pulling might cause him. Soon, all that remained was his face.
Wordlessly, you slid a hand up the back of his neck and cradled his head in your palm, threading your fingers through his curls. He let his head fall back, confident that you would support him, and closed his eyes. A quiet rumble emanated from the back of his throat when he felt your fingertips brush his forehead. Then, you peeled off the last bandage, finally exposing the sensitive skin of his face to the cool evening air.
Yes, his complexion was blemished and inflamed, as you expected. His nose was red and dry, some of the skin flaking off completely. His lips were in much the same condition. A smattering of pink blotches covered his handsome cheeks. But to you, nobody had ever looked closer to perfect. You grinned and cupped his face between your hands, gently circling your thumb over his cheek. His pretty blue eyes crinkled up at the corners as he smiled back, letting out a short laugh he never meant to let out.
“You are such a beautiful boy, Baldwin. I love seeing your smile so much,” you said, tracing his bottom lip. That smile only grew as he closed his eyes in bliss. Your warmth was almost too much for him to handle.
“I’m going to apply the salve now, okay?” you asked, gently laying his head down on his pillow and reaching for a bottle from your basket.
“Mhmm,” he hummed contentedly. The smell of lavender and chamomile permeated the air as you scooped up a large blob of the salve and gently smeared it over his cheekbones. He sighed in relief as soon as it touched his parched skin, his pink lips parting. Soon, his face had absorbed most of the moisture, making him glisten in the candlelight like he was made of porcelain, and you moved onto his back, having him turn over. You ran your hands over the plains of his shoulder blades, massaging the tissue to help relieve any aches that may have built up. He groaned into the pillow in satisfaction. You smiled, continuing your ministrations.
Needless to say, Baldwin had never experienced anything remotely similar to this before. The way you handled him and didn’t shy away from coming into direct contact with the most afflicted parts of his body made his stomach do flips. Maybe he could get used to this.
‘I think I’m all done, my king. You can turn back over,” you said softly, putting the cork back in your bottle and stowing it away in the basket. Baldwin stretched leisurely and rolled over, hair partially obscuring his half-lidded eyes and crooked smile. He suddenly looked so young; only eighteen years old and he had already led an army.
“Thank you, love,” he murmured, reaching out to grab your hand, bravely intertwining your fingers. He figured the damage had already been done, and there was no harm in a few more precious seconds of warmth. So he swiftly lifted your hand and pressed it to his delicate lips, almost burning your skin with the lingering passion in his touch.
Now it was your turn to blush.
#king baldwin iv x reader#king baldwin iv#baldwin iv#kingdom of heaven#baldwin iv one shot#badlwin iv drabble#fluff#kingdom of heaven fluff#baldwin iv x reader#wedding night
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Heya sweets❤️
Im always so shy when asking for request 👉🏻👈🏻
I have this story in my head where the reader is Tangerines and Lemons Handler. Lemon adores reader. She does everything for them. Always fun and making jokes. Tangerine and reader have a little hate/banter relationship, but both have unresolved feelings for eachother.
And after one near death assignment, reader has to bring out her nursing skills. Stop the bleeding, stitching them back up etc. But reader is so frustrated with the both of them especially Tan. Because she cares for them and obviously loves Tan. And by almost loosing Tangerine brakes her composure and all her feelings come out.
Maybe fluff, maybe some nsfw?
Do with this whatever you like☺️
Have a wonderful day 🥰🫶🏻
hello my lovely friend! so sorry this took a while but i wanted to make sure i did it right! what a wonderful prompt - i love this idea! please enjoy and feel free to continue sending requests! 🥰
You loved the boys - you really did. In fact, it was hard to imagine a time when they hadn't been a part of your life, a constant presence that grounded you and brought both joy and exasperation in equal measure.
For five years now, you had been their handler, guiding them through missions, patching them up when they were injured, and providing a steady anchor amidst the chaos that seemed to follow them wherever they went. What had once been a professional relationship had slowly evolved into something far deeper - and when it came to a certain British fruit with a mustache, you found yourself unable to stay away.
You liked Lemon for his eccentricities and knack for always being able to sense people's intentions. It was remarkable how spot-on he could be on missions. You suppose you could thank his obsession with Thomas the Tank Engine for that...
Lemon, with his eccentricities and uncanny ability to read people's intentions, was a constant source of amusement and admiration. You marveled at how spot-on he could be during missions, his insights often proving invaluable – a skill you jokingly attributed to his obsession with Thomas the Tank Engine.
Just the other day you had happily entertained one of Lemon's rants about Thomas and Friends over earpiece for a good fifteen minutes just to see how long it would take for Tangerine to lose it. And he did as soon as you and Lemon started having a serious debate about whether or not Tangerine was a Gordon, to which Tangerine did not take kindly to. He insisted he was not anything near close to "that arrogant bastard of a train."
You could hear the utter frustration and offense in his voice, his mutterings of various curses, and you imagined how he must have looked all riled up - to the point that all you wanted was to see his face at that very moment.
Lemon was so honestly sweet - always playful. He always asked you about your day and remembered the smallest things about you. He also knew exactly what to do to push Tangerine's buttons, which you couldn't help but find amusing. Beneath his quirks was a true heart of gold, for he never failed to coax a smile out of you, no matter how bleak the circumstance.
And Tangerine - well, he was Tangerine. He was complicated, to say the least, and you couldn't imagine him as being anything else. Since the beginning, there had been this tension between the two of you - at first, the two of you were at each other's throats - swapping insults and cursing at one other. Lemon may have had to intervene on more than one occasion to get the two of you to snap out of it.
Something, changed though - not significantly but enough for you to notice. You suspect it had something to do with a very long-ass conversation Lemon had with Tangerine after a taxing mission that nearly cost them their lives. When you had picked the both of them up, Tangerine and Lemon had their raincoats covered in blood. For someone who was so vocal, so uptight, Tangerine was positively silent after that mission. He didn't insult you back and barely responded with anything other than one-word utterances - it was unnerving, concerning even.
You didn't like it. You didn't like seeing Tangerine so solemn, so hopeless. You were driving the car in utter silence and at some point Lemon had fallen asleep, or so you thought... Tangerine was in the passenger's seat beside you with a blank stare - he wasn't even looking out the window. No, he just looked straight on at the empty road ahead.
He had a cut on his forehead and a split lip, dried blood stains running down the side of his face. Without looking down, he was taking his golden knuckle-dusters on and off. You had half of a mind to reach out and steady his trembling hands as you were driving, but you were afraid perhaps of how he might react. And yet, despite all of this, you thought he looked as beautiful as you had ever seen him.
You called his name, cautiously and quietly. He didn't respond. You tried once more and he didn't give any impression that he had heard you. You had to do something. Anything to get him out of this stupor. So, maybe when you thought Lemon wasn't listening and had fallen asleep in the back of the car, you had started going off on some tangent about having finally read some of the novels Tangerine kept on going on and on about.
You mentioned his favorites: Wuthering Heights, The Stranger, Fahrenheit 451... Because if there was anything you knew about Tangerine, it's that he was passionate about classics to the point that he even quoted and analyzed fucking Dostoveksy in the middle of a kill on multiple occasions. Maybe the fact that you and him were both quite the book nerds actually made him all the more attractive to you.
As you continued to ramble about the novels you had read that Tangerine was so passionate about, the air in the car grew thick with tension, the silence punctuated only by the steady hum of the engine.
You didn't dare look at him - part of you didn't really expect him to listen. So instead, you kept your gaze focused on the empty road ahead, hands gripping the steering wheel as you spoke.
"I finally got around to reading 'Fahrenheit 451, you know," you began, your voice soft and measured. "I have to say, I can see why you're so taken with it. It's simply written yet so applicable to modern society and the dangers of censorship. It truly makes one think about what it would mean to live in a world without literature."
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tangerine's head turn ever so slightly in your direction, his brow furrowed as if he were trying to process your words.
Emboldened by this flicker of response, you continued. "And I hadn't read The Stranger in a good while but it resonated with me particularly deeply this second time, Camus' exploration of existentialism and the human condition...I was drawn into Meursault's detached perspective, his ability to confront the harsh realities of life with such unflinching clarity."
A soft exhale, barely audible, escaped Tangerine's lips, and you felt your heart quicken its pace. You were reaching him, slowly but surely, pulling him back from the depths of whatever darkness had consumed him.
"But I think my favorite, at least so far, has to be Wuthering Heights," you continued, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.
"The way Brontë captures the rawness of human emotion, the intensity of love and loss – it's truly remarkable. And the relationship between Cathy and Heathcliff - it's passionate," you said, your voice trailing off as you hesitated, the words catching in your throat. You could feel Tangerine's gaze on you, intense and searching, waiting for you to continue.
"Cathy and Heathcliff," you began again, your voice soft and contemplative. "They're... they're bound together by something... something powerful and all-consuming. Their love is - it's turbulent, chaotic, but it's also - undeniable."
This time, Tangerine's reaction was unmistakable. He turned his head fully towards you, his eyes seeking out yours, and in that moment, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you. His eyes were filled with an indescribable emotion and his whole focus was on you. You met his eyes only to avoid them.
"You read them," he murmured, his voice rough and laced with a hint of disbelief.
You nodded, finally allowing yourself to meet his gaze. "Of course I did," you replied, your tone gentle. "They're important to you, and I wanted to understand why."
Tangerine's eyes remained locked with yours, his gaze penetrating and unreadable. For a moment, he simply stared, seemingly struggling with the words that threatened to spill forth.
Finally, he spoke, Tangerine's tone measured but with the barest hint of softness bleeding through. "I didn't think you'd actually read them," he admitted, a crease forming between his brows. "Those books...they're important to me. More than just words on a page."
Tangerine turned away, his eyes focusing on some distant point beyond the windshield. You could see the muscle in his jaw tighten as he clenched his teeth. "I'm surprised you understood them so well," he murmured, the words seeming almost painful for him to voice.
There was a brief silence before Tangerine continued. "I've always had...difficulty...letting people in. Connecting on that deeper level." His fingers drummed against the door restlessly. "But you - you saw right through to the heart of those stories. You truly understood it."
Another pause, this one longer, more weighted. When Tangerine finally spoke again, his words were clipped, guarded - as if he were struggling to maintain that protective wall he'd carefully constructed around himself.
"Don't read too much into it though," he muttered gruffly, shifting in his seat. "They're just books in the end. It doesn't mean anything."
But his eyes told a different story as they flickered back towards you, full of unspoken longing and vulnerability he was so desperately trying to conceal. Your fingers on the steering wheel twitched, practically begging to reach to him, to take his hands in yours, to tell him that you understood. That he didn't have to keep up this facade around you.
For a fleeting second, you saw a glimpse of the real Tangerine - the one who lived and breathed those books, whose soul resonated with the turbulent depths of Heathcliff and Cathy's obsessive love. The one who felt everything so intensely that he was forced to cage those emotions, to push others away for fear of being consumed.
You opened your mouth to respond, but the moment passed as quickly as it came. Tangerine straightened, clearing his throat roughly as he turned his attention back towards the empty road ahead. His walls were firmly back in place, that flash of vulnerability carefully tucked away.
"Just drive, Peach," he muttered, his voice now flat and devoid of any trace of the rawness you had witnessed mere seconds ago. "We've got a long way to go still."
~
After that incident, you and him went back to quarreling as usual though it was less heated, more like playful teasing. And you could have sworn Tangerine had started looking at you differently. Sometimes you'd find him gazing at you for a few seconds too long and when you gave him a questioning look back, he avoided your eyes.
Maybe - just maybe - you weren't so immune to giving into the tension between the two of you either. When you tended to the cuts and bruises he accumulated during missions, your touches perhaps lingered a beat too long, savoring the warmth of his skin and the subtle catch of his breath.
And Tangerine, for all his gruffness, could not entirely mask the softening of his features when your gazes met and held for those endless seconds. The pink dusting his sharp cheekbones whenever you aimed a teasing barb his way hinted at vulnerabilities he struggled to conceal behind his prickly exterior.
The friction between the two of you had become undeniable. Every snide remark, every heated debate about classical literature, seemed laced with unresolved tensions that threatened to combust at any moment.
Perhaps it was reckless to allow these flames to be stoked, you mused as you studied Tangerine's profile while he bent over the mission briefing. But there was a thrill in dancing along the precipice, in pushing the limits of how far you could go before that line was finally crossed.
Lemon's knowing glances whenever he sensed the charged atmosphere only fanned the flames further. That grin curving his lips made it clear he found humor in bearing witness to the escalating heat between his two companions. If anyone recognized the forbidden yearnings you each harbored, it was him. And was eager, practically praying for the two of you to get your heads out of your asses and realize your feelings for one another. And that time would come.
~
The mission had gone sideways in the blink of an eye. One minute they were making their way through the compound, and the next, a hail of gunfire erupted from all angles.
Your heart stopped when the frantic voice crackled over the comms. "Fucking hell - Peach! Tangerine's been hit and he's losing blood!"
Lemon's panicked tones sent ice flooding your veins. You scrambled for the extraction vehicle, hands shaking as you attempted to program the coordinates for the rendezvous point. Bile rose in your throat at the thought of losing him...of losing Tangerine.
What felt like an eternity later, the doors burst open and Lemon staggered inside, half-carrying, half-dragging Tangerine's bloodied form. Your breath caught in your lungs at the sight - his pallid face, the crimson blossoming across his abdomen, soaking through the field dressings haphazardly applied.
"Oh god-" A garbled cry tore from your lips as you rushed forward, hands already working to strip away his tac gear.
Lemon made his way to the front of the vehicle as you were opening every med kit the back of the van contained for gauze and something to stop the blood. Lemon drove anxiously and way over the speed limit.
"Rheneas...you have to be Rheneas," he yelled, the words jumbled as he fought to remain calm. "Brave and resourceful, just like you. You can do this!"
You barely registered his nonsensical Thomas rambling as you focused on staunching the steady flow of blood. Observing the wound critically, you noticed that the bullet had gone straight through but shrapnel had been left behind. You had to start moving before Tangerine bled the fuck out.
Deep breaths, Peach.
“Tangerine,” you murmured, a quiver in your voice. He groaned in response but it seemed as though he was going in and out of consciousness. No. He would not die today.
You tried again, your voice more urgent, desperate, “Tangerine!”
Tangerine's harsh, wet breaths cut through the tense silence, each one a fight for life. His eyes fluttered open, fever-bright and struggling to focus on your face hovering above.
“I have to remove the shrapnel before I can stitch you up, alright? I need you to be strong for me.”
Your hand found Tangerine's, giving his calloused fingers a reassuring squeeze as you met his fever-glazed eyes. "I'm here, Tangerine. Just focus on me, okay?"
He managed the barest dip of his chin in acknowledgment, jaw locked tight against the waves of agony rippling through his battered frame. Steeling yourself, you grasped the forceps with a steadiness that belied the frantic gallop of your pulse.
"Deep breaths," you murmured, the desperation yet softness in your voice slipping out unbidden as your focus narrowed to a laser point.
With deft precision, you delved into the ragged bullet wound, probing for the fragmented pieces of shrapnel lodged amid the tattered flesh. A guttural groan tore from Tangerine's clenched teeth as you worked, his grip on your hand verging on crushing.
"That's it, just hold onto me," you coached, willing every ounce of strength into the man beneath your hands. "You're doing so well, Tangerine. I'm right here."
Tangerine's panting breaths had grown shallow and rapid, his eyes squeezed shut against the onslaught of agony. You watched in rapt focus as a sheen of sweat bloomed across his brow, dampening the tawny strands that stuck in matted clumps to his ashen skin.
Then, with a final twist of the forceps, you carefully pulled free the last insidious fragment. Tangerine arched from the floor, a hoarse bellow tearing from his very core as he rode out the finality of the searing torment.
"Fuckin' hell!"
His hand clenched around yours with crushing force, fingertips digging desperately into your flesh as if you were his only tether in that moment of anguish.
"I've got you, I've got you," you found yourself chanting over the litany of his ragged gasps and Lemon's frantic reassurances over the comms. "You're okay, Tangerine. You're going to be okay."
At last, the tension bled from his corded frame as his body slumped back in total, wrecked exhaustion. His eyes slitted open, still burning with fever but now hazy with shock and blood loss. Tangerine's chapped lips parted soundlessly as his gaze found and locked onto yours with lazer-focus.
For an endless heartbeat, he simply held your stare, a thousand unspoken sentiments and emotions bleeding across the jagged planes of his face.
"Peach..."
The solitary word was little more than a broken rasp, rough and guttural. Yet it contained so much meaning - apologies and promises were woven into that single syllable that hung in the air between you.
Then Tangerine's eyes slipped shut once more as he surrendered at last to oblivion, his hand falling limp yet warm in your grasp. You stared at his deathly still features unblinking, his name echoing like a sacred prayer in your thundering pulse.
"Hang on, Tangerine," you pleaded, voice cracking as you rapidly worked the needle and thread through the ragged wound. "Please - please don't leave me."
Fumbling with the med kit, you quickly threaded a curved needle, hands surprisingly steady despite your inner turmoil. At the front of the vehicle, Lemon continued his soothing chants, something about diesel engines and Sir Topham Hatt, but the words were white noise in your ears. All that mattered was the fragile thread of life you fought so valiantly to preserve through each meticulous stitch. At last, the final knot was tied off and you sagged with sheer physical and emotional exhaustion.
Only then did your own harsh sobs spill forth, harsh and visceral. Burying your face in Tangerine's sweat-damp hair, you clung to him with everything you had, chest heaving with the force of your cries. Tears traced rivers down your cheeks, baptizing his skin with your anguished relief that he yet lived.
At some point Lemon appeared beside you, the door to the van wide open. His soothing hand smoothed circles across your shuddering back as you rode out the storm of emotion. His voice a soft murmur, words of solace about how you were Sir Handel, the reliable, brave-hearted one.
Somehow, Lemon had managed to coax you into helping him carry Tangerine into the safe house. How - you weren't sure because you were in quite a state. And despite Lemon's insistence upon you getting some rest, you swore that you wouldn't leave Tangerine's bedside until he woke up - at which Lemon gave a knowing glance.
At some point, utterly drained, you must have slipped into an exhausted slumber slumped at Tangerine's side. Because the next thing you were aware of was his calloused fingers brushing feather-light against your damp cheek.
You blinked awake groggily to find Tangerine's intense gaze drinking you in as if you were the most precious thing he'd ever seen. His split lips curved in the barest hint of a smile - tired yet impossibly tender.
And that was when the floodgates broke anew. With a harsh sob, you flung yourself against him, face buried in the solid warmth of his neck as you clung with fierce desperation. He was alive - he was alive and with you still.
Tangerine's strong arms enveloped you, holding you impossibly close as his injured body would allow. His lips brushed your hairline in a whisper of a kiss.
"I'm here, love," he rasped, the endearment somehow freighted with a thousand unspoken vows and emotions. "I'm right here. I won't leave you."
Tangerine cradled you against his chest, his fingers tenderly stroking the tear-streaked paths along your cheeks. Each brush of his fingertips was a reassuring caress, a silent vow that he was truly there - battered yet blessedly alive.
"Shh, it's alright now," he murmured, voice rough with exhaustion but impossibly gentle. "I've got ya."
You nodded tremulously against the solid warmth of his neck, inhaling the achingly familiar scent of gunpowder and sandalwood that was distinctly him. Tangerine's arms tightened fractionally, and you melted deeper into his embrace, drawing solace from the steady thrum of his heart against your cheek.
For a while, the rest of the world seemed to fade away until there was nothing but the rise and fall of his breaths, the reassuring metronome of life woven between your entangled forms.
When at last you drew back enough to meet his gaze, the corners of Tangerine's eyes had softened with an emotion you realized now you'd seen flickering there for longer than you cared to admit - a profound depth of feeling he'd never allowed himself to truly acknowledge until this moment.
His thumb traced the delicate curve of your lower lip with a touch so reverent it stole the very breath from your lungs. "You're something else, ya know that?" The words were little more than a hoarse rasp but held a world of unspoken meaning.
Unable to find your own voice past the tidal wave of emotion surging within, you simply leaned into his touch. This earned you the ghost of a smile, more felt than seen, as Tangerine's fingers slipped into the strands at your nape to cup your head with achingly tender possession.
Then, with agonizing slowness, he drew you towards him until your foreheads rested flush, sharing the same tremulous breaths in the scant space between your parted lips. His eyes slipped closed, seemingly savoring this suspended intimacy in which all masks had fallen away, leaving only the exquisite vulnerability of surrender.
"Tangerine..." you breathed his name like a prayer, pouring every ounce of yearning and relief into that solitary utterance.
His lashes fluttered open at the sound, eyes blazing with an intensity that seared straight through to your soul. Then, with the barest tilt of his head, Tangerine closed that last distance and sealed his mouth over yours in a kiss softer than down yet more searing than any brand.
The world around you seemed to come to a halt as you surrendered to the achingly sweet brush of his lips, to the unbearable tenderness of hands cradling you as if you were the most precious thing on Earth. This was a kiss transcending mere physical desire - it was an awakening, a benediction, a binding of your very essence in that single searing moment of connection.
When at last you parted, foreheads still pressed together, Tangerine's fingers traced idle patterns along the pulse point beneath your jaw in silent worship. His eyes shone with naked vulnerability and something deeper, more profound - the promise of an emotion that would be reckless for either of you to put a name to...not just yet.
But in that moment, no words were necessary. The simmering glances, the heated banter, the pushing of boundaries over the years...it had all led you both inexorably to this point of transcendence.
Lemon's soft chuckle from across the van was enough to shatter the spell momentarily. Catching your eye, he offered a warm, knowing smile - the expression of someone bearing witness to the inevitability that had been unfolding between you and Tangerine from that very first moment of friction.
"Took you two long enough," was all he said, but you heard the oceans of meaning in his affectionate tone.
You laughed wetly in response, reaching out a hand in a silent gesture of inclusion that had Lemon rising to join you both without hesitation. He sat beside you both, grinning as you rolled your eyes at him. Resting your head against Tangerine's shoulder, you allowed your eyes to drift closed in solemn contentment.
Lemon speaks up, a thoughtful expression upon his face, "You know I still think Tangerine's a Gordon - bossy and stubborn..."
Tangerine scowls at that, "I'll have ya know that I am nothing like that fucking cunt-"
"No - I think you are," you begin, smiling cheekily, and Tangerine looks at you, tired to be sure, but with narrowed eyes and slight amusement.
Tangerine opened his mouth, no doubt to protest your cheeky comparison, but you laid a finger across his lips, effectively silencing him.
"Just listen," you murmured, eyes sparkling with impish mirth. "Gordon may be pompous at times, but he's also powerful, regal, depended on by everyone on Sodor."
Sliding your hand to tenderly cup Tangerine's jaw, you held his inscrutable gaze as you continued. "You're our Gordon, Tangerine. Gruff and uncompromising on the outside, but with a core of integrity and fortitude that keeps us all pushing forward, no matter what."
Lemon nodded sagely beside you. "She's right, you know. Why d'you think I give you such a hard time?" He flashed that mischievous grin. "Got to keep that ego of yours in check."
Tangerine scoffed, but you caught the barely perceptible crinkling at the corners of his eyes - the ghost of a smile he couldn't quite suppress. Leaning in, you brushed the faintest whisper of a kiss across the corner of his mouth, savoring the rough rasp of his mustache.
"Don't worry, Mr. Gordon," you teased lowly. "We all know there's a big softy beneath that gruff exterior."
A low rumbling sound akin to a contented purr vibrated from deep within Tangerine's chest as he nuzzled his nose against your temple. "Keep that cheek up and you'll see just how soft I can be, darlin'."
The heated undertone in his gravelly timbre raised a delicious frisson along your skin. You bit your lip, holding back a breathless giggle at his not-so-thinly veiled innuendo.
"Well now, I do believe that's my cue to make myself scarce," Lemon piped up, winking broadly as he levered himself up with a dramatic groan. "You two kids have fun. But not too much fun - we've got that briefing at 19:00 sharp."
His departure was punctuated by a rude hand gesture from Tangerine, which only made Lemon's wheezing laughter echo more loudly. You watched him go with a fond shake of your head, savoring the warmth and levity he'd brought to the tender moment.
Then you turned your full attention back to Tangerine, trailing light fingertips along the stark lines and cuts that mapped his beloved face. His gaze caught and held yours, open and vulnerable in a way you'd never seen before - the mask utterly discarded.
"So...Mr. Gordon," you murmured, lips curving. "What shall we do while we've got some privacy?"
Tangerine's hand caressed your jaw, slowly bringing your foreheads together with unexpected gentleness. When at last he spoke, his deep baritone caressed your very soul.
"How about you tell me another story about your favorite trains? I could use a refresher on just why Gordon's supposed to be so bloody remarkable."
You laughed then, bright and unfettered, at the unexpected softness cloaking his rough-hewn edges. Throwing your arms around him, you held on tightly, your face in his neck, all awash with a sense of rightness and belonging that you'd struggled to find for far too long.
@kpopgirlbtssvt @little-miss-dilf-lover @sebsbarnes @kiss-me-cill-me @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @spookyspecterino @liukangsgirl @azureseacloud @pretty-little-mind33 i really hope you guys enjoy!
#bullet train#tangerine#bullet train movie#tangerine bullet train#bullet train tangerine#tangerine x reader#tangerine fanfiction#lemon bullet train#tangerine imagine#x reader#reader insert#tangerine fic#tangerine x you#tangerine fluff
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The last 4 episodes have been such a rollercoaster and full of so many great moments - comedic and beautiful and heartbreaking.
The thing i can't get over in both the original version of events around Sol's attack and the current one she's working to prevent is how damn brave Sun Jae is. In both scenarios he has an unrequited crush on someone who barely notices him and yet he fiercely and courageously not only saves Sol but is determined to bring the perpetrator to justice. His witness statement was so clear and just and calm - he was unflinching in the face of danger. We see this echoed in his statement to Sol that he's ok with getting hurt if he can protect her - he loves her yes, but he's also a fundamentally brave and heroic person, who trusts his heart - just as Sol is. As so many others have said, they are both reaching out through time, space and fate to rescue each other. Sol also trusts her heart and is similarly unflinching in her pursuit of a happy ending for Sun Jae, no matter what it costs her. I would bet on her too, if I were in Sun Jae's place. I believe our cute little bulldozer can do anything!
Going backwards, episode 8 was a blinder in so many ways - the meeting on the bridge after so many near misses the previous episode, the echoes from the beginning of their story, the umbrella! Then watching Sun Jae slowly morph from a cool, unruffled superstar to his sweet, awkward teen self the longer he was around Sol was just lovely. Her presence allowed him to be himself, truly.
I haven't even got to Im Sol's confession in the present - my goodness, what a breathtaking declaration of love. The acting from both was just gorgeous here - you could feel the release and relief of all that pain and longing. And after Sun Jae repeatedly made himself vulnerable it was time for her to do the same. I especially loved Kim Hye Yoon's startled reaction in the lift after actually telling him how she felt and Byeon Woo Seok's delirious, overwhelmed delight in his car after. And that kiss!! One for the ages and I love so much that she initiated it and crossed the last divide between them. I think I saw that was Woo Seok's suggestion when they were blocking the scene? which...makes me swoon even more, honestly (as if that was possible).
I love Detective Kim's doggedness in pursuit - he feels like a man who can get the bad guy. Indeed, all the 'adult' characters here are reassuring in the best ways and I agree with all the theories about a bit of magic around Halmeoni, too. Taesung was Ep 10's MVP for me and he's definitely got more of a role to play in changing fate. There's still six episodes to go after all (how on earth am i going to cope with the stress?!?!)
I am absolutely convinced it will be a happy ending. The lightness of touch and genuine laugh out loud moments every episode are setting the tone for a happy conclusion. Plus, there's no pre-determined feeling here (looking at you, Moon in the Day), rather the opposite. We are being shown over and over that a kind and unselfish heart can work miracles. They're not going through it for nothing, i just know it.
#apologies for the essay but i had a lot of ground to cover#also i could write about this show all day#it's so much fun to be this obsessed!#lovely runner#spoilers#kdrama
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Sweets (1/?)
The snugness was barely tolerable. She had overestimated herself. She looked surreptitiously over her shoulder and ducked around a corner. The only thing following her were her bad decisions, but she felt chased all the same.
Okay. Calm down. Breathe (but not too deep). Evaluate the situation. What are your options? Can you loosen anything?
She looked down at herself. Past her swollen breasts, past a fluffy roll of upper belly, she examined her waistline. Nope. The button was the only thing keeping the zipper together, and vice versa. For the millionth time, she lamented her morning. What a bright idea, interviewing for a job with a snack company. She was very well aware of how sweets affected her.
Could she find somewhere discrete to wait out her... little metabolic mishap? She looked around for a discrete nook to accommodate her fresh bulk.
The little atrium she had found had a series of plush benches around the walls. She sighed and headed for the one in the corner. She sucked in as best she could and sat down. Some horny little corner of her mind made note of how it felt as her tight belly shifted against her puffy thighs.
Sitting like this, only barely upright lest bending too far compromise her jeans, she couldn't ignore how her waistband was trying to cut her in half. She thought back to how she had done this to herself. The lovely HR manager had very explicitly pointed out the basket of the company's sugary offerings there in the middle of interview table. The woman had been insistent that she try at least one of each, gushing like any good salesperson about their rich flavors and subtle textures, occasionally even peeling one out of its wrapper and handing it to her.
How could she have done anything but eat what was offered to her? And by a beautiful woman, no less. She knew how her body reacted to food like this, but she had been desperate to make a good impression, to look good and eager and employable. A good girl. She ignored that last thought, and the accompanying shiver through her frazzled tummy.
She closed her eyes and tried to steady herself. Breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth (but not too deeply). All she had to do was calm down, and give her body a chance to do the same. Then she could find a back door to sneak out of, go home and hope that somehow that she hadn't blown the interview.
She opened her eyes again and caught sight of herself in a mirror across the room. Holy crap, she was huge. She had been her normal, narrow self, and her outfit had fit very very normally, when she had arrived. But now? Now it looked positively painted onto her. Her breasts were trying to spill out of her tastefully exposed bra and over the lapel of her blouse. She was more balloon than woman at this point. She ignored another tingle.
As she watched herself in the mirror, she noticed something change. Slowly but surely, the last wrinkle in her blouse smoothed out. Uh oh. That meant... she was still filling out. Panic. She tingled again.
No. No. Calm. Breathe (but not too deep). She closed her eyes again, and could feel her plump body quietly grow. Crap.
Panic. Calm. Breathe (but not too deep). Calm.
Maybe if she didn't look, it would go away. That had never worked before, sure, but there's a first time for everything, right?
As she rationalized to herself, she noticed the sound of heels clacking towards her hiding spot. Panic!
Maybe their owner would pass and not notice her?
No such luck.
The woman who had interviewed her rounded the corner.
"There you are!"
She struggled to stand. So tight.
"You left your purse upstairs. I get it, though. Interviews can be pretty stressful, huh?"
Like nothing had changed. Did this woman not notice that she was currently three times the size she was when she had shown up? Could this woman not hear every seam in her clothes creaking in harmony? Could the woman not see how wide and deep and round she was becoming?
"It's such a beautiful handbag, I almost wanted to keep it for myself!" The woman laughed. "Oh well."
She took the bag from the woman. "O-oh! Thank you!" Leapt out of her.
"Listen," said the woman, "technically I have to review a few other candidates, but I think you're a shoo-in for the position." The woman moved closer. "No one else has shown so much... enthusiasm." Closer still. She basked in the smell of the woman's musky perfume.
"Oh... that's great!" she managed to squeak out.
"In fact," the woman continued, "if you'd like to come back upstairs, we can have you fill out the onboarding paperwork now, so you don't have to come back just to fill out some forms if... when we give you the job." So close now.
"Um! Okay!" What.
The woman placed a gentle hand on the side of her massive, tight, growing belly. "Listen, between you and me, that passion you showed today will take you far with us. Do you feel like the offer is fair? We can negotiate further if you need." The woman's eyes were so sincere.
What was going on here? She could barely think.
The woman placed her other hand on top of her belly, well hidden by her burgeoning breasts. "I do hope you'll say yes."
"Um..."
There was a pop. Her button pinged away across the room from her overburdened jeans. It made a little thwack sound as it hit the far wall. Her zipper flew down, zizzing audibly. Her belly erupted through the breach. Her blouse retreated upwards. The tingling became a roar. All the while, the woman, as though no tectonic shifts were happening right there and then, continued to implore with borderline puppydog eyes.
The world held its breath with her. How had this woman not reacted to any of that?! What? Was the woman still waiting for an answer?
"...okay?" She tried. She wasn't sure if her brain was still working. "Sure?" Best to stick to small sentences.
"Yay!" cheered the woman, "I really think you'll love it here!" The woman launched in for a quick hug around her exposed belly. The woman's arms didn't go even halfway around her. And still the woman didn't seem to notice that anything was wrong.
"Well! If you'll follow me back to the elevators, we can at least get the formalities out of the way."
The woman took her by the hand and pulled, still gentle. She followed, mutely. Even the horniest, shamiest corners of her mind were silent, waiting with bated breath.
As they reached the elevators, the woman pushed the up button and stood to the side. "Please," said the woman, "after you!"
On autopilot now, she stepped into the elevator and... wedged into the door. Stuck. What. Panic? Calm? The elevator dinged again as if to say "I'm waiting!"
The cold of the elevator doors brought her back to reality. She put a hand on either side of herself and tried to pull herself in. As though this were somehow normal, the woman chirped "Oh, here, let me help!"
She felt a gentle pair of hands press into her oceanic bottom. Her horny brain thrilled again. She clamped down on those thoughts. No time to be a pervert.
Between the two of them, they muscled her into the elevator. She turned to face the doors in time to watch the woman press into her in order to let the doors close. Normally equipped for eight full-sized human adults, due to her immensity, it very barely fit two.
"We need floor thirty," said the woman into her barely contained cleavage. She tried to reach for the panel of buttons, but by now there was simply too much of her in the way.
"I've got it," said the woman, reaching behind her without looking.
They rode the thirty floors quietly. She could feel herself still widening, pressing towards the walls of the elevator car. Her embarrassment had burnt out, leaving only a kind of stunned peace in her mind. She tried to will her body away from the woman, but where else could it really go?
By the time they reached their destination, the woman was firmly pressed against the doors, still showing no indication of the extra-ordinariness of the situation.
As the doors opened, the woman stepped back, grabbed her hands, and pulled as she tried to wiggle through the door. Eventually she floomped through, and they set off toward the HR suite.
Full-on waddling now, she felt an inner tension release. She had stopped growing. Relief. If nothing else, at least things had stopped getting worse. Sure, she was almost round enough to roll. Tingle. Sure, her clothing had been reduced to barely covering her... rude areas. Tingle. Sure, a beautiful woman was acting as though this was all perfectly normal. Tingle tingle tingle. But hey, at least it finally wasn't getting worse.
The woman pushed open the double doors to the HR suite and welcomed her in with another glittering smile. They seemed to be the only ones there. The woman led her, patiently, to the front desk area. The woman ducked behind the desk, looking for something.
"Hmm, it looks like I'll need to go print off more some more copies of the forms. Shouldn't take more than a minute or two." Finally she'd have a moment to collect herself.
Then the woman produced a basket, laden with various goodies, from underneath the desk. "Here! Help yourself, sorry to make you wait." Uh.
"Oh, here, allow me," said the woman, picking out a chocolate confection, peeling it, and pressing it into her mouth. "I'll be right back!"
She chewed and swallowed the treat.
Uh oh.
#body inflation#les?bians?#body expansion#not really stuffing sorry#tho i do have a stuffing story i'm slowly slowly working on#anyway#this one's been written for a while#please don't expect another one this soon lol#tho i do have kinda a sequel in mind i guess#we'll see#trying to move away from some bad writing habits which are plainly evident in this lol#sorry they don't have names#referring to the two of them by pronouns only is probably more confusing than i think it is lol#i was in a sort of minimalist phase#shooting for kind of a hemingway thing kinda i guess#if hemingway wrote short fiction about dumb inflatable lesbians#also i've never read any hemingway#but i had a humanities professor use him as an example of how i should be less wordy#also i know the ending is ambiguous but she doesn't pop or anything#she's totally fine (eventually lol)#physically at least#mentally... who can really say#inflation kink#food inflation kinda i guess if you squint and tilt your head#but not really#my words
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Here are some "romance" tropes I feel would fit shigarakis love style if he were in a relationship or liked someone:
Grumpy and sunshine
Like actual grumpy/sunshine. Not bully x sunshine/sweet reader lol.
Idc what anyone says I firmly believe tomura would have a soft spot for his love interest. It would probably take a long time to build these sort of feelings, but once he does, he does his best to hide it
One: scared of ruining his reputation
Two: doesn't want any hero to use those feelings against him. This is a huge reason it takes him a while to admit any feelings to even himself, he doesn't one the one good thing he has, to disappear.
It kind of plays into the next one
Opposites attract
This isn't always the case of course. And in some aspects tomura would obviously want someone similar to him (hobbies, valuing alone time ((probably)), loyal, etc)
However
This sounds a bit cheesy lol but bare with me. You're like the one thing that keeps him afloat. He can't grow and mature if it's always raining (so to speak), so he needs "sunshine" to remind him that he has supporters. He needs someone to keep him in check and remind him of the things he has going for him when he can only see the cons of a situation.
The Wonderful thing about you, is that you don't just tolerate him, you actively want to see him succeed and want to help further his cause.
He'll fs act like your bubbly personality is inconvenient though, but if you have even a slight change in your attitude, he notices. And will ask you what's going on (in his own way lol. He's trying give him a break. If he didn't care he'd definitely just tell you to get over yourself)
Soul mates
Okay listen. Listennn. This may not sound very realistic at face value. But in a scenario in which you aren't affiliated with the league at all, he'd probably meet you out in public. Likely out to steal some new game or snack/drink he wanted (from a chain store ofc. If it's a chain it's free reign)
That said, he'd either see you on his walk there or in the actual store. Either way, he's burdened by some hero on their first job not knowing, well, how to do their job.
This hero in particular has some sort of "cupid"- like quirk.
Shigaraki, to his dismay, gets hit lol. No one could recognize him with a face mask and hoodie on though. But the first person he looked at was, you guessed it, you. You locked eyes with each other and he felt something he hadn't felt before. It made his stomach turn. He hated and loved it. Was it butterflies? Wasps?? Either way he feels like he just touched wet food in the sink but also wonders how he got so lucky to see eyes like yours- god, he hated being in public .
Tomura, after being hit, fell down from the force of what hit him. Literally fell for you. And you said something he'd never heard before. Something no one has ever really asked besides his mom
"are you okay?" And it's all down and uphill from there .
First love mixed with childhood friends trope
Last one, promise lol. Unless someone asks for a continuation.
I mention these two tropes mixed together, because honestly I see this as one of the most likely tropes. Tomura, as an adult has probably only a vague memory of you due to all the trauma. He blocked out quite a lot.
You were probably one of his closest friends. Granted, you two only knew each other for a brief time as you were both around 5 years old when the tragedy happened. You two probably met in elementary school if his parents sent him (elementary is not mandatory in Japan from what I read. They start first grade after they turn 6 is though). If it wasn't that, you two were likely neighbors or something. Regardless, you two were inseparable at the time.
As kids, you both had a pretty innocent view on how the world worked. Little you at one point may have even asked him why he scratches his face all the time. He'd say he doesn't know, but it feels worse when he's at home. Youre tiny little heart couldn't handle seeing the sad look on your friend's face. Almost immediately you took him to your bathroom and got the "tube with medicine stuffs" that your parents used when you got scratches to help itching or pain (which was probably calamine lotion or cortisone), and put some little bandaids on his face (he said the all might ones would make his father mad. That made you more sad, but you kept those feelings to yourself)
He'd even come back to your place when he felt itchy at home. One night though, you ran out of the topical treatment. You were both sad but went on about your time playing pretend and talking about whatever you two could think of. Time went by and he realized he wasnt itchy. Not with you. Never with you. From that moment forward he considered you his "bestest friend".
As an adult, he probably only memorized you from a feeling of loss, and missing something that he couldn't pinpoint why. This probably made him itch more. It wasn't until he had his transformation arc and his voice matured, that he realized what was making him itch so much. It was the loss of you. At least he doesn't itch anymore.
OP tries not the make themsleves cry challenge (fails miserably).
Anyways if there's any typos I apologize. It's 3 am and I wrote this out on a whim. Ikik I got too carried away writing, but oh well. Some of these I felt like writing a whole fic for tbh lol. That said, feel free to tell me what your favorite trope is and which one of these you loved the most:)
#stuff#my stuff#tomura shigaraki#shimura tenko#shigaraki tomura#tenkoshimura#tomurashigaraki#tenko shimura#shigaraki#tomura shigaraki headcanons#slight angst#angst#grumpy x sunshine#childhood friends#soulmates trope#opposites attract#boku no hero academia tomura#league of villains x reader#mha league of villains#bnha league of villains#league of villains#my hero academia headcanons#shigaraki tomura x reader#tomura shiragaki#tomura headcanons#shigaraki x reader#shigaraki headcanons
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is this a prank
poly!marauders
Summary: The marauders are all in a poly relationship with each other and Lily when they all individually become interested in a shy Hufflepuff in their year. What about this little Hufflepuff that makes them all feel complete? Will she return their affections?
Warnings: Poly relationship, mentions of smut, lots of fluff, very shy OC, mentions of child abuse, swearing, kind of a soulmate AU but only really for Remus. let me know if there are any more
part 3
✩₊˚.⋆✩⋆⁺₊✩
Abigail’s POV
Usually, when I slept I would wake up from one of two things; the first being my uncle yelling or more often than not touching some part of my body, the second being a nightmare of one of the punishments I received by his hand. But when I woke from my nap on the Hogwarts Express to find two hands softly caressing me one hand on my back and the other in my hair. I had first believed that my entire encounter with the self-proclaimed marauders was entirely made up. No one had ever been so kind to me and to feel Sirius’ soft lips against mine couldn’t have been real. But their touch, it was different I didn’t feel so disgusted with myself when they touched me. It was like everything my uncle ever did was forgotten and I was a completely new person. I wanted to go right back to sleep and continue my dream of the Gryffindor lovers but something or someone shifted beneath me.
“Good afternoon doll” A voice called out forcing me to slowly open my eyes and look at who was speaking, when I was met with two gray eyes boring right into mine from mere inches away from my own. Startled I jumped back only to be held down by two large hands, only then did I realize I was sitting on James Potter’s lap, THE James Potter was holding me on his lap. What the actual fuck was going on.
“Baby! Finally, you are awake” James told her excitedly as he held me tighter to him and leaned down and kissed the top of my head. I was completely speechless my cheeks burned and I was sure they were bright red as I tried my best to get up. I didn’t want to be on this man's lap and I was extremely confused as to why his literal boyfriend was sitting next to him completely fine as held some random girl to his lap. I understood that I was Remus Lupin’s mate because he was a werewolf but why were his other mates so nice to me? Why are they acting like I’m part of their relationship?
“W-w-why?” I asked it was all I could manage to get out, I wasn’t very used to talking, and Uncle Morfin would punish me when he heard me speak out of turn or ask questions. Just the thought of a punishment made me go rigid and I knew for a fact the boys around me had noticed as tears burned my eyes threatening to fall.
“Shhhh it's okay you are safe” James whispers into my ear as he cocoons himself around me gently pushing my face directly into his chest as he starts to rock me back and forth like a child. After a few moments and more of James’ soft assurances, I had calmed down enough to look back up at him.
“What did you mean why baby?” He asked me trying to decipher the cause of my distress.
“W-why m-me?” I responded in a barely audible voice still not used to being allowed to speak, but these boys had been nothing but kind to me all day and I certainly did not want this to change.
“Whatever could you mean you are our mate!” Sirius exclaimed exasperated that I could not understand the cause for their affection. “Doll, Moony chose you as a mate which automatically makes you our mate as well.” He explained further as if it was obvious. Meaning I did not have one mate but four. How could this happen? How could someone as worthless as me have four mates? This must be some sort of game these Gryffindors play, Yes! That’s it, It's just a prank they must be trying to fool me.
A simple “No” was all I could manage as I attempted to pry myself off the the burly marauders’ lap with no success.
“What do y’mean no? Baby I know this is surprising but we already love you so much.” James told me as he easily held off my weak fighting, I was still exhausted and this prank was just making it worse. It wasn’t until I yelped in pain when he touched my hip where underneath my clothes lay a particularly nasty bruise did he finally allow me off his lap. Panic evident on both boy’s faces as James began to profusely apologize cleary very upset that he had hurt you. Tears were streaming down my face at this point confusion and pain swirling inside of my head.
“I-I-I just d-don’t understand I-I r-r-really do-d-d-on’t want to b-be a-a-aprat of t-this p-prank” You managed to stutter out, the crying just made it worse as you willed yourself to calm down.
Oh Abby baby! no no no! This isn’t a prank we would never do that. We just want to be with you. Your our mate, our missing piece and we finally found you.” James explained looking as if he himself wanted to cry too. He carefully made his way over to you and was about to wrap his strong arms around you when he froze looking into your eyes af if to ask permission to hold you. And if you were being honest you had liked being in his arm, they were large and strong making you feel safe and warm so you nodded carefully and he immediately scooped you up rocking you gently again.
“Oi you’ve gotten to hold my little doll enough Potter! My Turn!” Sirius interjected jumping up to ease you out of his mate’s arms. Settingly you safely on his lap he began to nuzzle into your neck leaving soft kisses here and there as you allowed a soft giggle to pass your lips. It was at this time that Lily and Remus had decided to make their appearance the prefect meeting having finished.
“Ah my littlest darling how I’ve missed you” Lily said in sing songy voice. As she twirled closer pressing a soft kiss to your cheek she grabbed your hand pulling you to your feet and she told the boys it was time to change into their robes. With he free hand she grabbed both of your bags that held your uniforms and led you to the nearest loo. Handing you your bag she assured you she was only in the next stall over if you needed her. And need her you did, somehow after 4 years of attending hogwarts you still did not know how to tie your tie, but not to worry she told you she made the knot with ease leading you back to the shared compartment.
The rest of the train ride was uneventful as the four marauders passed you around taking turns making you blush or telling you jokes. Upon reaching the great hall they all placed a kiss on your head and made their way to the Gryffindor table as you went and sat at the Hufflepuff table. You missed their undivided attention but one look over towards them only reassured you of their sincerity as they were already looking at you blushing furiously you turned away allowing yourself to breathe
Tag List (let me know if you want to be added): @chockymilksworld @thoughtfulpandamentality @sydneyle @persephonesalvatore @hcqwxrtss123 @hermionelove @liv2post @fanficlover03 @kxnnxy @noodlesareokah @fairygirl18 @l0kilaufeys0n7 @emilylouise123-blog
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Nobody Pt. 7
(C.Sturniolo X Reader)
Summary:
Chris and Y/N never seemed to get along, but sometimes help comes from the most unexpected places
Word Count: 1,255
TW: Cursing, SH (not in detail, but it is talked about), wound cleaning, arguments, Hurt Comfort, Panic Attack, Crying, Nightmare, talk of past trauma (dead brother), Not Edited
A/N: TLDR for the last chapter - Chris notices Y/N drifting slowly, and tries his best to keep her within a safe distance… but one night him and his brothers decide to film a car video. While in the house alone Y/N tries to distract herself from the bad thoughts… it doesn’t work, and she doesn’t want to interrupt the triplets, causing her to relapse and try to commit. She calls Chris, and the guys rush home to find her a bloody mess in the bathroom. (Nick didn’t see it because Chris made him leave, but Matt was really effected by what he saw) after cleaning her wounds, Chris leaves her with nick while he cleans up the mess in the bathroom (Matt left, barely even looking at her), while with nick she tells him everything. The chapter ends with Chris saying “who said I was pretending?”. This chapter picks up right where the last one ended.
if I missed something, please let me know
-Madi <3
“”“”“”“”“”
“I told Nick…” he just stares into my eyes. “You don’t have to pretend to love me anymore, there’s no point in lying anymore.”
“who said I was pretending?”
I stare into his icy eyes in the dim lighting, trying to figure out if this was some cruel joke. “Don’t say things you don’t mean Chris.” It’s lined with a venom developed from years of rejection.
“it’s not a lie.” He looks genuine, I want him to mean it. “I think I’m in love with you… we can talk about it in the morning, you need to sleep”
I try to protest, but he just nuzzles his head into the space between my collar and jaw. The adrenaline rush from the events of the night finally dies down, and I realize just how tired I am. Within minutes my heavy eyes drift shut, all thoughts of an explanation long gone.
“”“”“”“”“”
The sun through the window wakes me up, I reach over for Chris… the bed is cold where he usually lays. I lay in peace for a moment before my brain starts working.
Did I just imagine the conversation with Chris? Was it a lie he told so I didn’t try to kill myself again? Was it just the adrenaline rush that made him say it? What if I dreamt it all? What if-
Before I could keeps coming up with worse case scenarios, the bedroom door opened. Chris walked in carrying two plates of pancakes.
He sits down criss cross in front of me on the bed, handing me a plate and fork. “How are you feeling?” He asks right as I shove a piece of pancake into my mouth.
“much better now… you didn’t need to make me breakfast in bed.” I pause for a second, staring at my food while trying not to cry. “You also didn’t need to say that you love me…”
I hear him set his plate and fork down. “Yes I did… not for you, but for me.” With that I looked up at him. “I have been so scared to tell you how I felt, out of the possibility that it scares you away… but I can’t lose you Y/N, I can’t not tell you how I feel.”
He meant it.
I just stare at him, dumbfounded at how he could really mean it. I’ve never been the kind of girl that all the guys chase, especially guys that look like Chris. I’ve always struggled with how I see myself, and I never thought that I’d believe a man who says he loves me…
But here we are.
“When we’re done eating I need to change your bandages, and then we can watch a movie or something… if you want to, if you want to do something else that’s totally fine…”
He’s rambling, I love it.
I love him.
“”“”“”“”“”
it’s been a month since the incident, and I’ve never been happier… and I’ve never felt worse.
It's a normal Tuesday night this time… I can feel Chris tossing and turning. I open my eyes to see his face scrunched up in anguish, and I know that it’s my fault. This happens at least once a week.
It’s always the same
-It starts with tossing and turning
-then he starts pleading (“no, no, please, it’s okay… baby… please, you have to be okay… please don’t leave me…”)
-I usually end up straddling him before gently shaking him awake
-he wakes up and hold me like he never thought he’d see me again, and he never tells me what his nightmares are about.
He doesn’t have to.
I remember the look in his eyes when he opened the door. The way he tried to keep it together, never letting his tears fall. I could hear him breaking down while he cleaned the bathroom floor.
I see that look in his eyes agin when he opens them. “It’s okay baby… it’s just a nightmare… everything is okay now.” He burst o to tears, pulling me into him. We stay like this until we end up falling back asleep. I wait until I had his breathing even out, and he starts snoring softly before letting myself fall back asleep.
I know he won’t talk about it in the morning, but I’ll still ask him.
“”“”“”“”“”
The vibe in the house has been tense since that night. I walk into the kitchen, and notice Matt staring at something on his phone.
“good morning.” I say, smiling in his direction.
he looks at me with a look of disgust, before leaving the room.
I’m tired of this… I’m going to follow him to his room to make him talk to me. He hasn’t said a word to me since he found out I was alive.
“Get out of my room.” He snaps in my direction. “I don’t want you here”
“Do you wish I died?” I didn’t mean to say it so bluntly, but it’s been the only thought in my head for the last month.
“Excuse me?” I can tell it offended him. That wasn’t my intention.
“I said ‘do you’… ‘wish that I had died’, it’s a yes or no question.” I didn’t mean to starts out this hostile, but it’s been building for longer than I wanted it to.
“how could you say something like that Y/N?” He has tears in his eyes now. Shit. “I can’t stand to look at you, but it’s not because I wish that you had died!” I clearly misread the situation before me. “I can’t look at you because every time I do, all I see is you on the floor, covered in your own blood. I can’t look at you because I see you, half dead, every time I close my eyes! I don’t sleep anymore Y/N!”
“Im so sorry…” I don’t know what else I can say. It’s true. I hate the way that my mistake has affected the people around me.
“No Y/N, it’s too late to apologize… did you even think about how traumatic finding you like that would be for us?”
“I know how you feel, I can help you with-” I’m cut off before I can finish my sentence.
“You don’t know shit about what this is like! I had to watch my brother patch up the slit wrists of my best friend… the love of his life, and all I could do was stand there!” His voice is shaking, but I can’t stop now.
“Don’t talk about me like you know anything about my life before I moved to Boston! I survived… I understand that you are struggling, but you don’t get to act like I died. I know exactly what you feel like, because I’ve been right where you are… the only difference is that my brother didn’t survive.”
I never told him about my brother, Chris and Nick are the only people in my life who know.
“You can’t possibly imagine the pain of finding your twin brother lying dead on the floor of his bedroom!” The words are coming quicker than I can process. “You never had parents that told you that they wish it had been you, you always got a birthday, and you never had to move to a different state because everyone knew that you tried to kill yourself… so don’t tell me that I don’t know what you’re going through!” I’m practically screaming by the end.
Then I’m crying.
And Matt is holding me while we both cry.
“”“”“”“”“”
@unbruisable @bernardsbendystraws @sturniolo-fann @jnkvivi
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Light up my life
Oneus: Valkyrie
Oneus Part 78 / ∞
#oneus#oneus valkyrie#xion#ravn#hwanwoong#keonhee#seoho#leedo#i recently went and saw oneus live#(it was one of the best nights of my life i was SO CLOSE)#and i wanted to go back and do their first mv even though the quality might be a little iffy#and i'm going to use the tags to rant about the concert so sorry in advance#one thing i noticed was that how they have barely changed? like they look the same then and now#it's insane#immortal beings confirmed
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‘satoru hates arguments. even more so when your conflicts cause your baby daughter to be upset as well.’
☀︎｜tags. (girl) dad!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff, angst, comfort. mention of arguments between parents. comfort & happy ending, though!
satoru hates having arguments with you. he hates it whenever an argument turns into the silent treatment. he apologises and apologises — yet nothing helps to change your mood sometimes.
ever since you got married and had your daughter, you were a bit more sensitive to the smallest of things than usual. it wasn’t like satoru despised you for it; in fact, he understands that motherhood was and is stressful. that man was nothing but supportive to you.
though, your little arguments were indirectly having an impact on the mental state of your baby. you didn’t even know an one year old could sense the tension between her parents.
“mama, mama!” your daughter appears out of nowhere, waddling over to you standing in the kitchen. she had barely just learnt how to walk. her tiny hand reaches for yours and she points at the doorway with her other, “go, mama, go.”
you curiously let your little girl lead you towards where she was pointing at, only to arrive at the living room. satoru was sitting on the couch, idly staring at the ceiling, other hand fiddling with one of your daughter’s toys. he seemed deep in thought. even exhausted and clearly not his playful self.
“mama, go! mama go papa.”
satoru’s head turns to the side at the cute sound of his favourite little girl. he smiles brightly at her return to the living room, only for his smile to fade just for a second at the sight of you next to her. he isn’t mad at you—more like sad that you still seemed upset with him.
your daughter tugs at your index finger. she apparently wants you to go to her dad—wants you to interact or talk with him. her big eyes were staring up at you with a pleading look in them.
you were in a dilemma. of course, you wanted to put your daughter’s mind at ease. you could just fake interact with satoru—or actually just make it up—but there was still a small part of you that needed time alone. you weren’t yet mentally ready for another confrontation. you needed time to think it out.
however, part of you also knows that your earlier argument was kind of silly. you don’t even fully remember what it was about, that’s how irrelevant it was to your brain.
“c’mon, pumpkin. ‘tis not nice for you to bother mama while she’s cooking.” satoru’s soft voice startles you back to reality. he had already gotten up and crouched down to pick your daughter up in his arms, kissing her chubby cheeks to distract her; “mama’s busy, ‘kay? let’s go play with papa.”
even satoru knew that your argument had caused your little girl to feel some kind of stress. she didn’t fully comprehend the situation, though she was clearly uncomfortable by the fact that her parents were not acting nice and lovey dovey like they usually would.
“no, papa. mama!” the baby whines and points at you and then at satoru, her little legs kicking. it absolutely broke satoru’s heart — shattered it into pieces. oh, how he wishes to never fight with you again. the sight of his little bundle of joy trying to mend things between you two with all she could was simply too much.
satoru looks down at you and notices the way you look at your one year old as well. the same way he did; with guilt and sadness. he sighs softly and without further thought, wraps his free arm around your shoulders and brings you close to his body.
“c’mere,” satoru murmurs as he holds both your daughter and you to his chest, “let me hold my two girls, yeah? may i, sweetheart? please.”
your husband asks for your consent. if you were okay with this—even when he needs it desperately, to hold you again in his arms and to make it right to you—your comfort comes first. if you weren’t ready yet to make up, he’d let you go. even if it’d hurt him immensely.
you don’t answer with your words and instead let your actions do the talking. you wrap one arm around satoru’s torso, the other cradling your daughter closer to both you and him.
it was like nothing mattered anymore in that moment, except for your little family. your worries, stress and anxiety about everything and anything had vanished into thin air as you felt the embrace of the two people you held dear.
your daughter finally giggles—a sound satoru and you had greatly missed. you close your eyes and just rest against your husband’s body.
“mama papa, wuv!” the little girl squeals in happiness as she excitedly babbles on, causing both satoru and you to laugh as well. the white-haired sorcerer leaves a big peck on the baby’s forehead before doing the same to you.
“mhm, papa loves mama veeery much.” satoru hums and kisses your forehead again, solely because he missed being affectionate to you, “papa loves his sweet little angel too.”
you can’t help but chuckle along with your one year old—who seemed to be extremely content in her parents’ loving embrace again. this is how it always should be.
“mama also loves papa very much.” you reply, causing your husband to regain his usual big grin. he finally got what he longed for; to have you look and talk to him with love. your silence may have lasted only a few hours, but it felt like it had been a couple cruel months to the sorcerer.
your eyes meet his again and all was well. you smile at him and he smiles back before leaning in to kiss you gently on the lips. satoru’s arm that was draped over your shoulder moves down to curl around your lower back, pulling you as close to him as your bodies would allow.
he pulls back after a few seconds and just lovingly stares at your face again—eyes holding an affection only you had ever been able to witness. your eyes told the same story; nothing could separate you two. ever.
“waaaaah! mama papa, me, me!”
the romantic air between you two suddenly gets interrupted by your daughter’s excited demands. she was demanding kisses as well, puffing her cheeks up as she got ready for it.
“ohh? seems like our angel wants some kisses too.” satoru laughs and nods his head at the baby in his other arm whilst looking at you, “shall we?”
you giggle and nod back—not able to refuse your little girl any longer.
it was not long before the living room fills with the sounds of your child’s laughter, which was caused by the continuous kisses and tickles she was receiving from both satoru and you.
#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#jjk fluff#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#gojo x you#gojo satoru x you#gojo x y/n#jjk x female reader#jjk fanfic
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𝝑𝝔 an: popular gojo with loser reader because this dynamic is also very cute <33 and ppl seem to love loser reader. masterlist!!
popular gojo whose sights set on you when you’re paired up for a final project for the semester. he’s kinda bummed that he isn’t with suguru like usual, but all of his displeasure disappears when he meets you gaze from across the room.
you stare at him like a dear caught in the headlights while he just observes you. a small smile stretching on his lips when he notices your cheeks turning red and fingers nervously tugging at your collar.
he gives you a light wave as a greeting and you do the same, face softening, smiling at him shyly. the first thing that comes to his mind at the mention of your name after your introduction is how cute you are when flustered.
you’re also very cute when you’re talking to him; your voice coming out a little weak and stuttery so he has to bend down and ask you to repeat for him. and from the first moments satoru finds himself enamoured by your antics; your shyness, your cute expressions, the way you smile at him and talk to him.
satoru takes a liking to you after a couple of study sessions together, in your cramped dorm room with dimmed lights and soft dialogues. it’s something new for him, something he now feels like he needs because he didn’t know he even needed to decompress from being so loud all the time. and your presence is very calming and soothing so he finds himself appearing at your door for reasons other than your project.
and you accept him with no hesitation. your usual talkativeness dying down while you listen to him rant, complain, be excited about something until he notices that you’re always getting too quiet around him. you seem to not shut up when talking to suguru or shoko, always having something to add and being active in a conversation, but when it’s time to talk with him it’s seems like you’re on the listener mode only. and that he doesn’t really prefer since he loves the sound of your voice.
gojo tries everything he can to open you up more: geto and shoko conveniently leave you both alone to continue the conversations together, he changes the subject of studying to something silly and funny all the time, he procrastinates on his phone and tugs you along with himself — you mostly comply and he feels very content and proud of himself at every bit of progress he notices.
one night he puts his head on your lap arrogantly and looks up at you with curious eyes, “d’you not like me?”
you choke on your spit, sputtering weakly about him being ridiculous until you’re stuttering out a small, barely audible “i really like you, satoru” into the silent air. satoru instantly rises from his laying position and tugs you into a warm and tight hug, showering you with affection while you just take everything he has to give to you.
once you’re officially together, satoru shows you off like you’re his biggest treasure. you absolutely hate it, too unused to going out of your comfort zone, but don’t worry, because satoru is there to reassure you and hold your hand through it.
he wants to erase the thought of not being on the same level as him since for him levels don’t exist and for you they shouldn’t exist either. but he knows the reason why you even care is because of how everyone around you judges his choice, not hiding it in their envious stares and hushed tones.
satoru doesn’t give a shit, though. he feels good when he’s around you and you do the same around him, and that’s what matters to him the most.
and satoru remembers the day you both presented your project very well — it’s one if his favourite memories with you. the way your face turned white when he asked you to continue for him, slowly getting over your fear of talking in front of people, and the way you looked at him like he gave you the world when he held your hand and you bowed together.
it might seem insignificant yet satoru felt like he was on top of the world, ready to thank suguru for basically ditching him on the project to get a better grade with shoko, because the bright beam on your pretty face seemed like the best reward for all the time he spent liking you.
#— miya writes!#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#gojou satoru x you#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojo x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojo satoru#gojou x reader#gojo satoru fluff
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distracting dreams. longer name. könig notices you avoiding him. and it doesn’t take long for him to figure out that it’s all because of a little dream you had. marks. fingering. pussy play. semi-public. slight age gap
you couldn’t meet könig’s gaze for the entire day. the one time you did get a glimpse of him, his arm reaching over to grab a gun or a vest or something that you weren’t really paying attention to, your mind started whirring. your little dream had come back to, despite your inner protest, the memory of könig’s hands sliding down between your thighs made your stomach clench. heat making your cheeks flushed, along with your nose.
könig had noticed this change in your expression, as he eyes you. this only seemed to make your mind run laps, remembering the way his thick fingers jammed into you, while his heavy bulge kept nudging against your widened legs. fuck. in that moment you spared him a small smile and quickly turned to take business elsewhere.
as the day got later, your pussy craved for something that you knew you’d never get. i mean how pathetic can you get? honestly. but what you hadn’t realized was how attentive könig was to you. having been your mentor and supervisor he had grown a keen eye to your habits. you had never minded making eye contact before, or at least as much. but now you actively avoided it. and when könig made the mistake of letting his gaze drop he saw the way your thighs clenched tightly together.
he wasn’t a stupid man, he knew what that meant. and though the clear age gap and status provided you both with a clear ‘forbidden zone’, könig couldn’t help but keep looking. you were a pretty girl. könig also wasn’t blind. he knew the random stares you got, the passing compliments. he hadn’t thought much of it, but as he soon became aware of your dire need to avoid him he grew curious.
“i need to speak to you.” könig says to you in his normal professional manner that has you thinking you’re in the clear. but the moment you two end up alone he draws in close, far too easily lifting you onto the nearby table. your eyes expand as his large hands holds your thighs apart, and around his hips. “why are you avoiding me?” his question is simple. but you’re too awestruck to come up with a lie as you just gulp.
he’s testing a theory. your avoidance of eye contact, flushed cheeks, and clenched thighs all lead to something that is making könig second guess himself in thinking his plan is all for research purposes. did he want you like this? did he like the fact that you looked so flustered?
“alright, answer me this then. what did you dream about the other night?” his straight to the point question is nothing like the könig you knew. in fact this whole ‘confrontation’ is anything but. he doesn’t waste his time conversing in deep detail, or asking any questions that lead to said conversations. his question is followed by your further silence. what were you supposed to say? ‘yeah, i dreamt of you fucking me until i could barely breathe’.
“it’s a simple question.” he speaks again, and this time you can feel your body come to life. but not in the way of action in more of a reaction to his hands now stroking your thighs. his hands can practically encompass them. that only seems to make your inability to speak more prominent. “if you aren’t going to say anything, i’m going to start assuming.”
yeah, maybe his ‘plan’ is turning into something more. he wanted to know what was bothering you. that if he touched you this close would you react with disgust or as you are now? but now his mind seems to wander. if he’s right about you fantasizing about him, and if you won’t talk, there’s only one way to understand more.
you can’t comprehend a thing as his hand slips down between your thighs and begins to rub right against your covered pussy. your mouth salivates as your hands grip on the material of his shirt. könig watches you closely as your gaze darts down in surprise, your lips parting. his fingers drag against your cunt as your hips instinctively shudder. yeah…he knows.
his other hand then moves over to the button and zip of your pants, skillfully unbuttoning and unzipping until his hand can completely slide past your panties and graze right over your weeping pussy. a small gasp leaves you as your hips move a fraction, your head now practically rested on his chest as he stands. his calloused fingers do wonders to your clit and more choked sounds leave you.
you’re embarrassed. but at this point nothing much is going on in your mind besides the repeat of ‘könig is touching me’ ‘könig is touching me’. he doesn’t say a word as he then slips two fingers into your hole, the stretch making a louder mewl leave you. könig’s free hand presses against your mouth to quieten you, as he begins to fuck you with his fingers, your clothes muffling the wet drag of your seeping pussy.
his hips keep your thighs from shaking too much as you press against them for support, your forehead against his chest drawing you closer to him. “do not make a sound.” he whispers to you, as he removes his hold on your mouth, his hand slipping to partially soothe and hold your head.
könig can feel you squeezing around his fingers, your breathing telling him how close you are as his thumb rubs soothing circles on your clit. your orgasm crashes over you as you mouth opens, panting against him. he keeps thrusting his cum covered fingers into you as your hips grind as much as they can. after a moment, your orgasm slowly decreasing, könig mutters something. “is that why you were avoiding me today?”
you can’t tell if he’s disappointed or not. and you’re still too scared to look him in the eye. even more now, that his fingers are spreading your arousal and cum all over your pussy lips, his hand still in your pants. “i’m…sorry.” you manage, your embarrassment catching up to you. he doesn’t reply a moment as he keeps playing with your pussy lips slowly. “is that a yes?” he hums.
“…yes.” you murmur back. the moment you say this, his fingers slide right back into your hole making you gasp, and grip onto his arms. you finally gaze up at him, as he begins to finger you again. “w-what—“ you choke out as your eyes threaten to roll, the heat in your core returning. you don’t know his reason for thrusting his fingers back into you. because all he knows is that he wants to watch you cum again.
#könig x reader#könig x you#könig x y/n#konig mw2#konig cod#konig smut#konig x reader#konig call of duty#konig x you#konig#konig imagine#könig smut#könig cod#cod smut#cod#cod x reader#call of duty#call of duty smut#call of duty x reader#18+#smut
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ my life with you (that’s way over now)
synopsis. some people get drunk calls from their exes, maybe even flowers with hand written apologies. you get a knock on your front door with two random kids and a murder case
length. 3.0k words (once more it was supposed to be short)
contents. exes to lovers, ex boyfriend! suguru, gn! reader, slightly deviated from canon (he doesn’t kill the entire village + doesn’t defect), slightly a fix-it fic, blood, murder, child abuse + neglect (canon events with suguru and the twins), angst to slight fluff with hopeful ending (pretty much happy tbh), mentions of family + kids, suguru pretty much being a broke and depressed lil guy lollll
notes. idk what this is but it was written for me i just wanted to write it so here. take it and look away
right before you graduate, you and suguru break up. you don’t want to, but he insists it’s only fair—he can hardly be there for you the way you need him to be, he says. something’s changed in him, it has since that day last year. but still—you don’t want to break up.
so you argue, he stays firm, you cry, he doesn’t change his mind, you break up, he leaves, and the world momentarily collapses.
it’s the way things work, you suppose. they don’t quite always go the way you planned. you graduate not long after that, leaving him behind to throw yourself into work while you toe into the baby steps of adulthood. real adulthood—the jujutsu world has a way of thrusting you into that faster than normal, anyway.
by the time it’s late summer, you get your first apartment. it’s a rundown place—the bathroom tiles look dirty no matter how much you scrub, the walls haven’t been repainted in what seems like decades, and the thermostat never works properly to feel like what the temperature indicates.
but it’s yours—you leave jujutsu high fresh into the real world, paying your taxes and buying your groceries all while you exorcise curses for a living. barely an adult, barely getting by, barely alive as you get up each day and live.
and then suguru comes knocking on your door half past midnight.
“hey,” he says nonchalantly, like there’s nothing wrong with standing there—but you know him better than that. you can hear that detachment in his voice as he stares between your eyes, but not quite in them.
“you—” you start, staring at him incredulously before you decide to give up. there are no surprises with suguru, not anymore you suppose. you don’t really know him anymore. “suguru, it’s midnight,” you sigh—and that’s when you see them: two small children that can’t be much older than five.
bruises are clear as day on their arms, even while standing in the darkness outside. there’s also the slight swollen curve of their eyes, and you can’t help but notice how they’re practically skin and bone. children who have probably not yet even lived for five winters, and you almost wonder if they’ve been through more than you have in you’re entire lifetime.
suguru clears his throat before you can stare at them any longer.
“this is nanako,” he gestures at the blonde, “and this is mimiko.” the brunette one seems more shy, curls behind his leg further as her name is uttered.
you don’t know what to say, so you settle for smiling—you’re not sure if it comes out too genuine, but you try. it’s all you can offer, really.
“hello,” you hum for a moment. and then you turn back to suguru, “it’s midnight.”
“i know.”
“you should be at school grounds.”
“i know.”
“suguru,” you sigh, eyeing the blood stained on his cheek. you don’t like where this is heading. there’s a sick feeling twisting in your gut, bubbling, bubbling, bubbling.
bile. you can taste it. something’s not right.
“where did you find these kids?”
“on a mission,” he says simply, “village heads were keepin’ em locked in a cage like animals. can you believe it?”
again, that casual tone. it almost as easy as humming your favorite tune, as smooth as your skin on freshly washed sheets, as quiet as the first day of snow when the world is still. but something about it is hollow—something’s not right.
“why’d you bring them here? instead of school? shoko should look at them—”
“i told them they’d be safe here.”
they’d be safe anywhere, you think. as long as suguru’s there too. as long they’re under his watchful gaze, nothing could hope to beat down on their youth like it already has their whole lives. but you don’t say that—something tells you he won’t believe you.
maybe not right now.
you don’t look at him. you can’t. something’s not right, but there are children present. so you throw on your best smile and open the door wider, offering them to come in.
your apartment is small, just one bedroom and one bath. there’s hardly enough food for yourself for tonight, you still have to go grocery shopping this week. the missions were lined up back to back to back—but that’s just life as a sorcerer, you suppose. most days you hardly have the energy to eat more than a few apple slices when you return home anyway.
you wave your hand at your place dramatically as you say, “come on in, ladies. your humble abode awaits.”
they giggle slightly at that—it’s the first time suguru hears them laugh. you have that effect, he knew you would. it’s why he brings them here and not there. and…well, there’s a more complicated issue at hand. but that’s for later.
right now…well, for right now, he lets you guide them to the bathroom.
“you have money on you right?” you ask. he blinks, staring at you for a moment before slowly shaking his head.
“spent the last of it on cigarettes this morning.”
great, you think, before sighing and trudging over to grab your wallet as you press a few crisp bills of cash in his hands.
“here.”
“what’s this for?” he raises a brow.
“go buy them clothes,” you look at him like he’s stupid. he might be, in all honesty. just a little. “i’m not putting them back in…those once they’re all cleaned.”
“wha—i’ve never shopped for children before,” he gapes, “and i don’t know what size they are, or—”
“figure it out, suguru,” you say tiredly. it’s half past midnight—by now, you’d be passed out from your mission. he seems to take the hint. “and bring some snacks too. should be enough.”
“fine,” he grumbles—and then he’s walking out the door.
for a second, it feels familiar watching him leave. but then you decide not to dwell on it—there are much more important matters at hand.
you turn to the two girls before crouching in front of them with a gentle smile, “who’s ready for bubbles?”
——————
nanako and mimiko have never had a bubble bath before. you decide to let them taste the first tendrils of youth by splashing in your tiny bathtub while you find suguru for some much needed answers.
he sits on your couch, shirt wrinkled and hair falling loose and blood still staining his cheek as he hunches over his legs, elbows resting on his thighs as he thinks. and thinks. and thinks and thinks and thinks.
you wonder about what—what could be plaguing his mind? a lot you’re sure, but this isn’t suguru. not the one you know, at least.
the one you knew, the voice in your mind hisses—do you really even know him at all anymore?
“so,” you sit on the opposite side of the sofa, curling your legs under yourself as you eye him from the side, “care to explain?”
“i killed them,” he mutters. you go still. “the village heads. i did it without hesitating. that’s bad, right?”
“well fuck, suguru,” you breathe, restless, “that’s certainly not good.”
“i had a reason,” he argues, “all i needed was one.”
“there’s nothing that excuses murder—”
“oh, but we can excuse locking kids in cages, is that right? why? cause they’re sorcerers? they’re not—they’re children.”
“i didn’t say that,” you rub your forehead. this is all too much. too, too much.
being a sorcerer is too much. being in front of suguru is too much.
you finish your third year with a broken heart and graduate in spring—at one point you’d hoped graduating wouldn’t change anything between you and your friends, between you and the boy you loved. everything would be the same, even if you’d leave the place that held you all together—you’d still find a way back to each other, you liked to think. but then it all changes before you can even comprehend.
haibara is dead. nanami is hardly coping. gojo is everywhere but here. shoko is in high demand. suguru is hardly present even when he’s right in front of you. nothing is the same and you don’t think it ever will be. you lose the one thing you count on being yours forever, and now, he’s right here again. but not really here—not with you so much as near you.
suguru has killed people, sitting on your couch with you while the two children he finds are bathing happily in your bathtub.
there’s some irony in that—maybe in a perfect world, suguru and you would sit on the couch, much happier than right now, though. maybe you’d be tucked under his arm and curled into his side as you both chuckle at the happy squeals in the distance. maybe in a perfect world.
but this world is cruel. too cruel, in fact. it forces children to grow up too fast during some times and lets adults continue to be children during others. it’s sickening and all too much.
but this is the world you live in. there’s not much to change in that—not much you can change. maybe sitting on the couch with suguru is what you should be grateful for, whether it’s in this world or another.
“i came here because it’s safe,” he mumbles, quieter this time, “i don’t…i didn’t trust anywhere else.”
something tells you he’s not talking about the kids. you look at him for the first time that night—really look at him. you take in the lost weight, the sunken cheekbones and the bruised under eyes from the lack of sleep. the cracked lips from being chapped and the dry hair that’s lost its normal shine.
something’s not right—you won’t be able to mend it, but you think you can keep it from getting worse.
“it is safe here,” you murmur, nodding in assurance, “but you can’t…i can’t let you do that. not again.”
“what? kill people?” he snorts in dry amusement. it’s quiet for a bit—you open your mouth a few times like you want to say something, but nothing ever comes. he finally decides to fill the silence. “i don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong anymore. people shouldn’t kill. but some people shouldn’t live.”
“i think jujutsu is supposed to save people. not everyone will deserve it, but i suppose we wouldn’t be much better than them if we used it for anything other than that,” you whisper. he looks over at you at that, peers at you deep in thought as he contemplates your words.
“that’s funny,” he chuckles, “i used to think that too.”
“what changed?”
“everything.”
“then change it some more,” you shrug, “until you think it again.” he looks at you incredulously at that, eyeing you like you’re crazy.
“you’re an idiot,” he scoffs.
“says the killer,” you scoff back. you look at him this time, in the eyes and full of conviction, full of promises you couldn’t make before but fully intend to keep now. “don’t kill anyone else and i’ll help you. with those kids, i mean.”
“you want to co parent with me?” he chuckles.
co parent—the word makes your stomach twist. even after all this time, after all the hurt and pain, suguru is easy to imagine that with. he’s easy to imagine anything in the future with, really. he’s always been perfect like that, but you’re starting to realize there’s a lot more imperfections to him than you initially thought.
but it’s okay, you think. if you didn’t stop loving him before, you certainly don’t stop now. blood on his hands or not, he’s yours—even if he doesn’t want to be.
“don’t say it like that,” you murmur softly, hugging your arms around yourself, “please.”
you let yourself be vulnerable for just a moment—not because you want to, but because he needs to know. he needs to know how unfair he’s being and how patient you are with him despite it all. you deserve that much.
“sorry,” he mutters—he has the decency to look away and drop his smile.
“you don’t kill anyone, and i’ll look for a bigger place. deal?”
“for us…all?”
“yes. just until you figure it out, i’ll help you out with them. and then you’ll responsibly use your paycheck as a full time special grade sorcerer and maybe send a few checks my way to say thanks to my good will.”
he chuckles at that, shaking his head. “i’ll repay you,” he hums, tapping his foot. he does that when he’s nervous, you still remember—you could never forget anything about him. “i…i owe you, anyway.”
it’s quiet some more. you don’t know what to say, and quite frankly, you don’t want to say anything at all. but once more, he fills the silence for you after a while.
“what if…” he starts, “what if i want to co parent with you?”
“you dumped me,” you point out, unable to hide the bitterness any longer. it cracks from your tongue through your words like honey that went dry. “remember that? cause i sure remember.”
you’re an adult now, just barely, but an adult all the same. you should handle this the mature way—but you’re still young. still hurt. still blanketed in the fresh wave of nostalgia that leaves you aching with grief.
so you let yourself be bitter. suguru can handle that much after he left you to pick up your shattered pieces.
“i didn’t want to,” he says quietly. “i never wanted to.”
“but you did.”
“i didn’t…you didn’t deserve to see me unstable.”
“you’re not very stable right now either,” you pinch your nose tiredly, “you killed people, suguru. but somehow you can manage to have two kids now. but not me.”
“they need me,” he defends.
“i needed you too,” your voice cracks.
you did. you needed him—and you like to think he needed you too. maybe it wasn’t perfect, nothing ever is, especially not when you fight curses and see their ugliness every day. but that’s the best part of having each other—having something pretty amidst the hideousness.
he left you with more ugly than you knew what to do with. it’s unfair, you think for a moment, unfair that two girls who hardly know him at all have more of him than you ever did. he’d never abandon them—that much you know for sure.
you’ve laughed with him, held him and wiped his tears and kissed him under the moon until it became the sun. you’ve seen him with his hair down and his guard lowered. you’ve seen him in every way possible but in the end, he walked away.
they’ve seen him for less than a day and somehow, he’ll be there forever. there’s something unfair about that and you hate that you’re bitter with children but the world in cruel like that.
suguru slowly inches over—it’s cautious at first, and then he fills the gap all at once. you pretend you don’t feel the way your thighs touch.
“i need you too,” he admits, voice small. there’s a small, shaky crack that eats away at your heart, trying to gnaw into the raw part. the easy to reach part. the part you shouldn’t let him see anymore. “i…i always needed you. i’m sorry.”
“we were supposed to need each other,” you sniffle.
“we do,” he slowly slumps his head onto your shoulder. you let him stay there—don’t dare move a muscle in case he pulls away. “you’re the only thing that keeps me stable. i don’t think that’s fair.”
“needing someone isn’t unfair, suguru,” you scoff.
“okay,” he grabs your hand, squeezing. for the first time, he lets it all go. lets tears slowly slip from the corners of his eyes as he slumps into your side. he cries for riko. for kuroi. for satoru and the time he lost him for a moment. for their youth. for haibara. for not being enough even when he shouldn’t have had to be. somewhere amidst all that, your arms wrap around him and he’s pulled into your chest—that familiar feeling of your fingers threading into his hair makes the world start spinning again. “i need you,” he chokes.
“okay,” you say shakily, nodding slowly as you let yourself hope, “as long as you don’t stop this time.”
he buries his face into your chest, and you kiss the crown of his head.
cruelty is an unstoppable force. your love for suguru is an immovable object. neither is going anywhere, but perhaps they can coexist.
“satoru’s gonna have a massive headache when he explains this one to the higher ups,” you snort after a while.
he laughs into your shirt, real for the first time in a long time. “i’ll buy him something sweet. should make up for it,” he hums. and then he looks up, smiles innocently as he asks, “wanna lend me some cash? i’ll pay you back when i’m a responsible handler of money.”
“you’re hopeless,” you chuckle, “but at least you’re here.”
————— BONUS —————
“okay,” satoru starts, holding his hands up in surrender as he stands before the higher ups. damn old geezers, he thinks. “so he did kill a person or two…but—”
“there is no excuse,” a voice hisses.
“he didn’t mean it,” he huffs indignantly, “it was an accident. those can happen sometimes.”
“what—”
“he’s going through a phase, okay? let him work through it, he’ll be fine.”
“that’s not—”
“i’ll let him off the hook this time,” satoru grins, pushing his glasses up his nose as he shrugs, “he’s got a family now, y’know? kids and a spouse, and they’re looking for a home. can’t take that away from them.”
“he’s not even married—”
“it’ll happen eventually,” he insists, “so let’s all just calm down, yeah? great, thanks!”
“gojo—”
“see ya!”
he walks out, flashing an obnoxious peace sign at the higher ups as they hiss at him to return as he’s walking out. that takes care of that, he thinks, as long as suguru doesn’t make his life harder and kill more people, he can handle it—you did promise him kikufuku if he does.
satoru is babygirl defender no. 1 ain’t nobody doing it like my guy 🤞🏽 he would be loyal to you while you were in jail no doubts
#teepods.writings#fics.#geto x reader#geto x you#geto angst#geto fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk angst#jjk fluff#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#geto suguru angst#geto suguru fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen angst#jujutsu kaisen fluff
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❝ PERSONAL STREAM (A Little Too Personal..) ❞
word count: 1.9k
warnings: subbot! cis male reader, domtop! cis male kamo choso, camboy! choso, slight dumbification?, praise kink, reader referred to as a size queen (term is used for a man), mention of edging (choso), mentions/descriptions of manhandling
prompt: congratulations! you just won a solo fan call with your favorite camboy! hope you have fun watching him getting off to you being just the goodest boy ever :)
notes: a gift for and and idea from @sooniebby I jus made it into a choso fic. I've been holding it off for a while now, I think. this isn't as good as had wanted it to be but it's fine regardless. not beta read, sorry not sorry
fem aligned dni
you can’t believe it.
you actually can’t believe what you’re reading right now.
in your email inbox, something you barely ever check unless needed to, had a message from the user of a porn website (not your proudest moment) that you signed up on just to watch his videos, telling you that you won this month’s drawing. you had to stand up, walk around, eat breakfast, and come back to your computer to see if it was still there. if it was still real. you swore you’ve never felt so excited yet so scared in your life.
to know that, somehow, you won that solo fan call, to know that he’ll be jerking off for you, to know that no one else can see him but you, talking to you, and- shit. you were getting hard. you looked back at your computer screen. the email is still there. you’re not crazy. you feel like you are though.
the roll of the cheap gaming chair you bought from amazon sounded muffled in your ears as you backed away from your computer, getting up to get ready for the day with that email still lingering like an itch on your scalp that you can’t seem to satisfy. you need to get to work.
your co-workers noticed the blank stare in your eyes as you slipped on your chef coat and pants, hands on autopilot as you tucked hair into your hat and tied the apron around your waist. it smelled of fresh detergent since they just washed your uniform. your friend had to even point out that you cut your finger when dicing onions because you were too out of it to even notice. or was it that working in the food industry made your fingers numb to the sensation since it happens so many times? ... huh.
when you got back home, you opened up the email again. it’s still there. it’s still real. did you want it to be fake? part of you says yes but the majority of you hoped not. i mean, you’ve been following this guy for.. what, months now? lord knows how much money you’ve sent to him. he wants to start the call at 7pm on discord.
you thought he might use something else other than that app but he was probably just using an alternative account and he most likely changes his user after every raffle. if you were him, you would do the same thing.
...
you should probably take a shower.
it was 6:40 and your hair was still damp with water, towel resting on your shoulders to catch any stray droplets from getting your shirt wet. you kind of wanted to back out. the fear of being one to one with the camboy you’ve been fantasizing about for a long while now was scaring you a bit.
fingers fidgeting with the paper stars littering your desk and your foot rapidly tapping against the floor, you watched the seconds go by on your desktop. your dominant hand reaches for your mouse and highlights his username to copy it and paste it onto the add user section, sending the friend request to see that he accepts it not even 2 minutes later. ...was he getting ready?
your webcam was sitting on your desk, not properly hooked onto the top of your computer. it was plugged in but you hardly ever use it so it just sits where it is. should you set it up? ..no, you didn’t feel like it. your mic was completely ready though, as always. you and your friends would always play together on call, so it was your most used piece of equipment.
4 minutes.
your stomach twisted in anxiety.
choso sighed as he applied lotion all over his torso, all too used to the way he prepared everything during streams and bonus videos locked behind an even bigger paywall. this sidegig he was doing felt like a chore sometimes but money was money, and by god did this account make him a lot of it.
lots of women flocked to his account, entranced by the way his voice stuttered whenever he close, his hips that instinctively jerked because his hand wasn’t able to move any faster, and the whimpers that teared into the mic when he came all over his hands and milked himself for all that he’s worth. they mostly talked about how perfect his dick looked but that was an average comment in his chat.
he saw the friend request notification pop up on his computer and figured he’d at least get his cock hard before the call even started. he put on some random porno in the background, stroking himself with little care and when he got half-hard, he figured that would’ve been enough. he accepted the friend request and close the tab with the video playing, looking over to see that he had 4 minutes until he would start the call.
fingers moving expertisley across the keyboard, he made sure to tell you that the first 30 minutes of this session was free, any longer and you would have to start paying up. you replied with a very short, “got it.” and left it at that. you seemed to type out something more before it quickly went away, causing choso to raise an eyebrow. were you scared?
35 seconds.
choso was getting tired of waiting, so he began the call. unbeknownst to him, you freaked out when you heard the ringtone rumble through your speakers, hesitating to accept the call. in the end, you did anyway because you didn’t have to pay for this private session for 30 whole minutes.
the half-curse’s hand went back to his dick, stroking it with barely any passion behind his movements. however, he wasn’t expecting to see the face of the winner from the drawing within 5 minutes of the call, teeth biting into his fist as his other hand’s fingers worked himself open. choso swore he was no longer half-hard, dick twitching to life in his hands, pre already leaking from the tip of his cock.
he was used to mostly knowing that women were behind the screen and heavily suspected that you might’ve been one- but fuck, to know that another man was getting off to his voice, his cock, drove him wild.
maybe he’ll get rid of that 30 minute rule.
you didn’t mean to turn your webcam on.
you could feel your stomach sink when you could see yourself on full display for the camboy in the discord call. it was too late to turn it off now. whatever. you only live once.
“aren���t you just the cutest?” you aren’t sure why you flinched but the way his voice carried those words certainly got you feeling things, “how about you turn your mic on too, yeah? wanna hear your pretty voice.”
shakily, the hand you were biting on reaches for your mouse and you click unmute. your fingers that were inside you accidentally pressed against your prostate, causing a loud moan to fall from your lips, immediately slapping your hand over your mouth to silence yourself. you don’t want to get a noise complaint from the neighbors... again. the first time having to explain that to an officer was embarrassing enough.
“good boy,” he grunts into the mic, bucking his hips up with a loud smack coming from his end of the call, “jus’ the sweetest little thing, aren’t ya? betcha’d be just absolutely adorable if i were to fuck you stupid. it hasn’t even been 15 minutes and you’re drooling all over your pretty fingers.”
you didn’t even notice that you’ve been panting so much that spit began to run down your chin, too absorbed in the way the camboy’s dick spilled even more pre over his massive hands. fuck, just how strong could he be? could he manhandle you? yank your head back using your hair as a handle while blowing your back out? shove you down on his cock because you simply weren’t riding him fast enough?
“you got a dildo on you, baby?” he asks you, his hand slowing down to a stop. his words pulled you out of your abundance of fantasies to shift your focus back into reality, vision a little blurry from the tears resting on your eyelids.
you managed to fumble out a small, “mhmm..” just loud enough for him to hear and he tells you to grab it. in a slight daze, you reach into one of your many desk drawers to pull out the toy that sat in its box, already cleaned from its prior use.
“do a favor for me, yeah? put it in nice and slow, imagine it’s my cock stuffing you full. how big ‘s your toy? five- six inches?” he sure likes to ask a lot of stuff, you notice.
“‘s seven..” you mutter, wincing when you push the toy inside your hole, stretching you full and your mind goes numb.
he chuckles, deep and breathy and shit- “so you’re a size queen? that’s what they call it, right?” he starts pumping his fist around his cock again, albeit slower than before. you would take a bet that he was edging himself, “that’s it. such a good boy f’me.”
legs quaking in place, you managed to get it all inside you. sitting on it was much harder on your chair than you anticipated, the current position you were holding getting uncomfortable. cautiously, you lifted your hips, wrapping your hand around your own dick and giving it a few strokes while breathy moans left your lips, slamming yourself back down on the dildo. your eyes widened in surprise as the tip of it pressed against your prostate, a loud whimper echoing throughout your room.
“fuck-! you’re so cute, mmph- k-keep going, baby. i’m getting close- ah!” you could see that his hand was moving much faster than when you last looked up at your camera, quick breaths and filthy pleas paired with the desperate thrusts of his hips.
stumbled cries left your lips when you began to keep up with his pace, fingers getting sticky with pre as you continue to stimulate yourself. through blurred tears, you could see his hips rut one last time before a stifled moan left his throat and his fist was coated with his cum, dripping onto his pants.
he winces at the overstimulation from just shifting his hand to let go of his softening cock, grabbing a tissue to clean himself up while watching you bounce up and down your toy. you could even say he was jealous. even so, he could tell you were pathetically chasing your own orgasm, breathy sighs escaping from the confines of your lips. eyes closed in slight shame yet concentration, your thumb came up to the tip of your dick and rubbed, causing a yelp to slip through and your eyes opened once more.
however, you weren’t expecting to see the gorgeous face behind the creator of all those inappropriate streams you’ve watched the second your hips slammed back down on the dildo.
“[name]..”
ropes of your own release spilling out of your dick, it finally registered in your head that the camboy was willingly letting you see this. your thighs quaked not only in nervousness but also in fear that you might get a boner again just from how handsome he was. his face was pale although dusted with a bright hue of red covering his cheeks, eyebags signaling a lack of sleep, he had some sort of black line going over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones, and slightly messy black hair tied up into short ponytails. if he wasn't attractive to anyone, he was at least attractive to you.
his pretty and slightly plump lips opened to speak once more, “do you.. wanna meet up in person..?”
“h-huh...?”
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