#something about hating the thing staring right back at you
Text
Freak On The Cam! - C.K.
Synopsis. Choso always loved watching you - his pretty lil’ camgírl - from behind the screen. Who knew he’d love being on-screen with you even more?
Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, camgírl! reader, spítting, Choso has rings and piercings, first times + loss of vírginity (Choso’s), oral (fem receiving), exhíbitionism, DOWN BAD Choso, cúmplay, use of “ma’am”, Sukuna is a menace, víbrators, light jealousy (Choso’s), some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 6.5k
A/N. Meant to post this last week but hehe here we are. Also I’ve GOT to stop using Unc-kuna so much lmao.
“Wanna see a movie or do you wanna make one?”
Choso was screwed. Completely and utterly screwed. So badly, in fact, that he might as well just wipe off every trace of himself online and go into hiding - preferably forever.
All because he had been so stupidly careless as to leave his phone unattended for exactly 1 minute and 47 seconds around Sukuna.
In the time it took Choso to raid the kitchen for his favorite brand of cereal, his uncle had managed to open his Twitter (because “that’s where all the juicy stuff is”), stalk your pretty page at the very top of his last searched, and send a god-awful pick-up line that would probably get him blocked. Or worse.
Damnit, he knew he shouldn’t have made his password Yuji’s birthday.
“Ya should be thankful I didn’t DM her myself, brat.” Sukuna chuckles, not even a shred of regret in his tone, way too amused with how Choso was frantically trying to tackle the phone out of his hands. “What’s the harm in asking? Such a pretty camgirl, n’ you look like you need some good pu-”
“She’s also my classmate.”
“Kinky. Even better.”
No, not “even better”. God, this must be some kind of cosmic joke, and Choso just wished the Earth would swallow him up whole right now - and maybe his phone along with it too.
It had taken him almost a whole semester to work up the courage to just sit next to you during your shared lecture. All gorgeous with your bright smiles, and your smart mouth. And Choso was very much content to admire you from afar - and from behind his phone screen, of course.
Never following, never liking. Never tipping you off as one of your hundreds of thousands of fans.
And now, not only had Sukuna revealed that he’d found your secret Twitter account - the one with those sinful little clips of yourself that had Choso opening the app way too much - he’d also propositioned you. Like some creep.
“Ugh. This is why women hate you.” Still desperately grappling, he spits out more to himself than Sukuna at this point. “B-besides, she’s never even gonna respond any-”
Ping!
And the Itadori household had never been quieter. Never, on a random Saturday during spring break. Never, as the two men crowd the phone, jaws dropped and staring wordlessly at the singular message on screen. You.
“Let’s make one ;)”
---
“So s’not a stream this time, jus’ a video. Is that okay?” You hum from your desk, glancing at the man seated on your bed as he hastily nods along with whatever you said. Looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here.
Weird.
It had only been a few days of back and forth since you’d gotten that first text - the one that you’d honestly thought about blocking like the thousands of others. But there was just something about it that made you stop, something that had you clicking on the profile to delve a little deeper.
It hit you like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact - that this was someone in your class. Someone you knew. How the hell did he even find this account?
You knew Choso as that sweet - albeit slightly gloomy - kid that sat next to you, always quick with his answers and even quicker to look away from your gaze, no matter how hard you tried to spark a conversation. You’d just guessed he was afraid of you or something.
So nothing could’ve prepared you for how ridiculously attractive he looked in that profile picture, all smug grins and dark locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner. Shirtless, giving just a peak of- oh god, were those nipple piercings?
Could you really be blamed? You just had to have him.
But, here - it was like he was just itching to run away at the first chance he got.
“You’re not held at gunpoint, y’know.” you giggle at how he startles at the mere sound of your voice. The mattress dips as you stop fiddling with the camera to sit next to him, thighs flush against his muscled ones. “Are you sure you want-”
“Yes.”
It seems that both of you were surprised by the abrupt response. Too quick. Choso clears his throat, cheeks flaring as he tries to dredge up some semblance of dignity, he drawls lightly. “I mean- Yes.”
You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the way his chest rises and falls rapidly as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - nothing quite like the suave impression his pick-up line gave off.
But so irresistible just the same.
“Well…Cho.” you bat your lashes, voice dropping to a seductive whisper - not too heavy, for now at least. “Then why won’t you even look at me?”
Alas, Choso was not a strong man.
Maybe at your words, maybe at that playful little nickname you gave him, he’s finally raising those dark eyes to look at you. Twinkling with- fear? anticipation? A flicker of something so dangerous as his gaze sweeps greedily over that tight dress you put on just for this occasion.
Choso tries to ignore how sinfully it hugs all your curves. Or the way it would look a million times better on the floor.
This was absolute torture.
And God he thinks he could pass out right then and there as you lean in closer. Too close. The temperature in the room suddenly increasing by about 10 degrees as you purr, tone careful and balanced. “Much better. And now…”
His breathing becomes heavier, eyes flickering downwards. Once. Twice.
And you know you’ve got him in the palm of your hand.
“...all you gotta do is touch me.”
Yeah, if Choso thought he was going to pass out before then he definitely wasn’t ready for those dangerous little words. Ones that have him shaken right to the core - fighting that urge to just take you how he’s imagined all those lonely nights.
“You- huh?” he lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he crosses his legs with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, desperately trying to will away the blood rushing straight to his throbbing cock right now.
But how could he? Not when you only shift closer, barely even a hair’s breadth between you two - relishing in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm. Such an adorable pout playing on your lips as you mutter, “Do you not want to?”
And he did. Oh, how he did - has been imagining it for the past five months, in fact. And Choso lets you know, a little twenty times, actually, as the words spill panickedly from his lips.
“-idiot trying to set me up and I’ve been dreaming of fucking you for so long but I’m just-” Heat rushes to Choso’s cheeks, as he abruptly shuts the fuck up. But it’s too late - the damage has been done.
You give him a wry smile, lips mere inches from his ear. “Just what?”
His breath hitches, muscles rippling so deliciously as he shudders beneath your touch. “I’m a-” Choking out - as if it physically hurts to admit - “-virgin.”
Oh.
Now, you might’ve expected many things - but certainly not this. Though, looking at the cute flush on the tips of his ears, all the way down to those big, needy eyes, you don’t mind. Not one bit.
With one, quick glance at the rolling camera - your mouth is moving before your mind. “Do you want me to…do something about it?”
And then it’s like something snapped.
You don’t know who leans in first, just that Choso’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him - how could you not?
Because goddammit it was always those pretty lips that you were staring at whenever he was spouting off answers in class. You just never expected he’d be kissing you back with such an infectious desperation.
No sooner are you thinking about how sweet his lips are before he’s pulling away with a soft sigh, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses down your jaw. Your neck. Back to your lips like he wanted everything and anything.
You gasp licks a long, languid stripe up your neck - maybe at how utterly obscene it felt, maybe at that sharp cold feeling that makes you flinch. Fuck - a tongue piercing? The noise makes Choso’s mouth drop into a quick oh! surging forward to claim your lips again. Addicted.
Only to be stopped by your hands cupping his face, letting out a pained grunt at how he was so close. Just a hair’s breadth away from your lips.
“Cho~ Open your mouth, baby.” you whisper, hotly.
And he looked so pretty - dark hair askew, lower lip swollen and quivering with need, brows furrowing because he wanted more of your taste. But he obeys, of course he does, Choso thinks he’ll do anything you asked. And lo and behold, sitting right there in the middle of his tongue was a pretty silver piercing.
You just can’t help but thumb open his mouth further, looking him right in the eyes as you spit in his mouth. Once. Twice.
“Bet no one else has done this before, huh?” Grinning at how sinfully Choso’s eyes roll to the back of his head at your taste, “Kiss me proper now.”
God, you were so good at throwing away whatever was left of his poor sanity. And it’s all that’s said before his kiss-bitten lips are crashing into yours again.
“No. No one’s hah- done that before. Only you.” he’s panting into your open mouth, swirling his tongue with yours. “F-fuck only you. Only you only you-”
You barely even realize the way you’re on his lap now, sitting so prettily there that Choso half-deliriously wonders whether he should take a picture. Mind spinning too much with his throbbing erection under your drenched panties, a damp little patch at his fat tip. So hot and heavy already.
“Cho, do you want me to-”
“Yes, ma’am.”
You certainly don’t have to be told twice - especially with that little nickname. Fiddling with his belt, you’re so hazy with want - the need to taste Choso, to see if the rest of him was as sweet as his lips - that you almost miss the look of confusion that flashes across his face.
You bat your lashes at him almost-innocently, “You alright?” And Choso thinks he could cum right there and right now at the sight. If he wasn’t currently battling for his life, that is.
“Yeah, s’jus’- what I wanted hah- was to…” His hands sneak down, cupping your heated pussy through your drenched panties. “-taste her. ”
“Oh?”
“Are y’gonna teach me how?”
Oh. Fuck.
You know you’re fucked. Completely and utterly fucked.
Only moments later, Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress, face-to-face with your sloppy pussy. So mean with the way he was pinning your hips down with one hand, all but ripping your panties off with the other.
You feel his piercing before his tongue. Both the hot and cold so maddening on your cunt as Choso licks long, lazy stripes up your puffy folds - dragging his hot tongue all the way from your base. Just grazing your swollen clit.
“Teach me- fuck fuck-” words muffled and slurring together, vibrations going straight to your pussy. “Use me. Use me how you want.”
You’re threading your fingers through his dark locks before you even realize it, grinding your sloppy cunt all over his waiting mouth. “Quirk your tongue like- ngh-” Angling him close enough so he bullies his soft tongue into your tight pussy. Piercing massaging all the right places. “Fuck-”
“Like this?”
“Sh-shit,” you gasp, nodding deliriously. “S’too ngh- good.”
And by God, did you mean it.
“Yeah? Y’like this?” he’s groaning, wrapping his lips around your swollen clit. “Can feel you clenching around me. Shit shit shit, you love this, huh? So slutty on camera for it?”
Getting wetter and wetter by the second as his tongue roams for that one-
“Oh! F-fuck, Cho. Right hngh- there. Deeper-”
Ah, found it.
Choso grins as you tug on his soft strands, you can feel it on your throbbing pussy. Pushing your legs all the way till they’re at your tits to hit that little spot each and every time. Again and again. Eyes glassy, torn between devouring that slutty expression on your face and how fucking drenched you were.
“Shit, baby,” his words are so strained now, like his sanity was dancing away at each flick of his tongue. “You’re drooling everywhere. See? Show the camera now.”
You don’t have to look. Because you can feel it.
Can feel how wet his mouth is, just glistening with slick and saliva. Trailing all the way down his chin - to his wrist - only second to how sloppy your dripping cunt was. It was like he was getting messy on purpose, like a little reminder to himself that shit this was you and he was eating out your pretty cunt to insanity-
“Oh my god, think m’hooked.” Tongue dragging all over your swollen folds, catching on his piercing. “Think your pretty lil’ pussy’s hah- driving me crazy. Ruined me, Fuck-”
And it’s so embarrassing how he’s talking you through it, grinning at every lil’ whine and whimper that leaves your mouth. You were acting all shy right now in a way that makes Choso’s cock twitch so painfully. He barely even notices, though, with the way he was so drunk off your pussy.
So messy - unable to decide between rolling his tongue over your ravaged clit and dipping into your sloppy hole. Too much. In and out in and-
“Faster.”
He goes faster.
“H-harder.”
He goes harder.
Anything and everything for you - to keep those pretty moans falling from your lips, walls getting tighter and tighter around his tongue. And Choso might just consider himself a man addicted.
“Can you ngh- cum f’me, baby?” You flinch as he spits out the words into your cunt. Harsh. Fucked-out. Sounding just as delirious and breathless as you. “Cum f’me please. Wan’ to taste y’on my tongue. Please. Fuck- need it so bad. So bad.”
You’re so caught up in Choso’s pussydrunk little babbles that you barely even realize when you’re cumming. Just that you’re letting out a strangled scream of his name, dragging your sloppy pussy all over his mouth.
And he has never seemed more blissed out. Long gone is that nervous little expression usually on his face around you, Choso looked like he could be suffocated in-between your legs right now and love it. Hope for it, even.
He tells you that, of course. As soon as you’re blinking back your vision, blood still roaring in your ears. Delicate strings of slick snapping where he parts from your quivering cunt, lips swollen and glossed so prettily with your sweet sweet juices.
“Baby, y’think the video of lesson one came out good?”
Oh. Shit, what have you done?
---
That certainly wasn’t the last time you saw Choso - or the last time you had him in front of a camera, either.
A few weeks later, you found yourself with an entire album for the man - a hidden treasure trove under the simple name of “Cho <3”. Most of the videos favorited, all sorted so tediously in a way that showed you spent an obscene amount of time looking at all the ways he ruined you.
So filthy on camera that you always wondered whether it was the same person in the sheets and in class, texting Choso for later. Just to confirm.
But embarrassingly, only some of these videos made their way onto your Twitter account - with Choso’s pretty face largely out of the frame. The two of you hadn’t ventured into streams yet either, opting to hide him away. Because, okay, maybe you were slightly jealous of other people seeing him - but it was really hard not to be when he looked like that.
In spite of all that, you’d still gained a casual hundred thousand more followers since his appearance - ones who always commented on your solo streams asking where your “hot emo bf” was.
Comments you’d pointedly ignore, because, hell, you wished he was here on-stream helping you get off, too. Yet despite the endless flirting and videos, Choso actually hadn’t made it further than actually holding a full conversation with you. And you wanted more.
For all you know, you might just be one of his many trysts - and it was just for the videos, right? You get the content, he gets the experience? A win-win situation, so why have you never felt more like such a loser?
Such a loser the way you’ve already lost count of the “lessons” but still haven’t gotten to feel him - to fuck him the way you wanted just yet.
“S’alright if I take this, right, ma’am?” He smirks during one such session, knuckle-deep in your dripping cunt. Dangling your drenched panties like a badge of honor, flimsy and soaked with your sweet sweet juices. “S’alright if I-” And he can’t even finish the sentence. Your jaw drops as Choso raises the thin fabric to his face, breathing in your essence like a man possessed.
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-
“You’re so filthy, Cho-” you manage to choke out once you find your voice. Squirming on his bed like such a slut for him. “Was the innocent thing just an act?”
“Nope.” he pops the p, licking lewd little circles on your neck, thumbing open your puffy folds to watch in amazement at the way you glisten and clamp around his fingers. Eyes flickering briefly to the recording phone in his hand. “But we gotta give ‘em a good show, huh?”
Right, you’d forgotten about the camera. But none of that matters anyway because-
Intensity setting 2.
“You’re so mean, too.”
“Am I?” he grins, teeth grazing along your racing pulse. “I think you taught that to me, baby. Shit, lesson 8 it was?”
God, he was addictive.
Choso’s having way too much fun playing around with the intensity setting of the bullet vibrator shoved inside your ravaged cunt. Sending quick, methodical vibrations all along your pulsing clit. In time with the breathless moans leaving your kiss-bitten lips, and it’s all you can to call out for- more? Mercy? Both?
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-
“God, you’re so perfect. Shit, so messy f’me.” he groans, and you could tell that the video wasn’t going to be uploaded anyway. Too shaky, focusing in and out of Choso’s fingers. Knuckle-deep and pumping in and out of your filthy hole. Relentless. “Almost makes me wanna show off to an actual audience.”
“Maybe I want to, too.” you muse, shifting at his heated gaze. Dangerously pressing your thumb over those nipple piercings you’ve gotten to know so well lately - as if to support your point. God you wish he’d take off that snug shirt.
Intensity setting 3.
“That so?”
And no matter how many times Choso’s ruined you on camera - and watched the videos over and over afterwards - he always thought they weren’t enough to capture your perfection.
“Such a slut f’me, baby.” To capture the exact moment in which your wet lips fall into a soft little oh! when he massages your walls in time with the pulsing vibrator. To capture that absolutely sinfully excited little glint in your eyes as he ruts his clothed erection against your pussy. “Y’always this dirty?” Quickly turning into a look of slight panic at the sudden jingle of keys from the front door.
“Yo, brat. Where the fuck are ya?”
Ah, there he was, the reason that Choso usually locked his bedroom door whenever you were over, even if he was home alone.
Intensity setting 4.
As the silence continues, so does Choso’s abuse on your cunt. In fact, he only gets more erratic - like he wanted you to cum. Needed you to cum right now, right here in front of Sukuna, footsteps only growing louder. Nearer.
“Cho-” you fight to get out the words. “He’s hah-.”
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-
“Can’t speak? That’s cute.” he coos, voice way too relaxed for someone whose mind was reeling with the realization that he couldn’t remember if he locked the door this time, and how adorable you sounded. Enough so that it made some raw, primal part of him wanna pull down his pants and fuck you right here right now. Cockblocks and his own virginity be damned. “C’mon now, use your words like a good girl. Tell the camera.”
Cocky bastard.
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-
“Close!” you yelp, unsure of whether you were talking about yourself or the looming Sukuna. Jaw slack, tears springing into your ears as you look up at Choso. “So close.”
God, you were addictive. And this video was definitely going in both your favorites.
“Mhm,” he hums, movements getting hastier. More desperate. “I know, ma’am.”
Intensity setting 5.
That’s all that it takes for you to cum, letting out a loud strangled moan of Choso’s name. Or, you would’ve - if it hadn’t been for the way he’s shoving two, thick fingers into your mouth.
Silencing you - and in your hazy brain you think that if this was his way of shutting you up, then you really didn’t mind. Because all you could taste was you and the cold, cold metal of his rings. Somewhat intoxicating.
“Shhhhhh.” he’s breathing out, still mindlessly grinding his hips into yours. Though, you realize with a pang that today won’t be the day you get to feel that achingly hard erection straining his pants. “These pretty moans aren’t for him, hm?”
Pressing on the back of your tongue, smirking at the way you nod tearily up at him, moans still muffled. Hell, do you even know how sexy you’re being right now.
“Mhm, all f’me. All for fuckin’ me.”
Knock! Knock! Knock!
“Why the fuck are you locked up in here on a Saturday night?” Sukuna sounds impatient, but not surprised. Probably imagining all sorts of dorky things his nephew was doing to hole himself up in his room. “Come out n’ get this takeout- what’s left of it anyways.”
And with that, it’s like the magic is over.
Your high only just bating before Choso’s hurriedly ending the recording on a hazy still of your disappointed pout, cursing Sukuna for his impeccable timing.
Slightly concerned about the door being broken down and someone else seeing you in all your fucked-out glory, he hastily moves to grab the spare cloth by his bedside. Cleaning you up with hushed promises of “sending the recording later”, and “s’alright, he’ll be gone soon.”
Close. You were so close.
A win-win situation - but you’ve never felt like more of a loser.
---
“By God, I never thought he’d get the balls to do it.”
You yelp in surprise at the deep voice from behind you, whirling with a defiant brandish of Choso’s (your?) keys. He’d given them to you a few lessons ago, saying it would make it easier for you to come and go from his apartment as you pleased. Which - to you - felt dangerously like something a boyfriend would say-
But that wasn’t important right now.
What was important was the older man suddenly towering over you right outside Choso’s front door. Big arms crossed over his chest, that leering smirk clashing with his pink hair. “I knew it was odd that brat had a pair of heels by the door.”
Shit. Sukuna.
Ryomen awfully-wingman-his-nephew Sukuna.
“Spill.” At your confused head tilt, he plows on. “Spill the tea. I need new blackmail on my lil’ nephew. How badly did he have to beg you to go out with him?”
You don’t know what was more bizarre - what he was saying or the way he actually pulls out his Notes app as if hanging on to your every word.
“I-It’s because of you.” you manage to choke out, unsure of what Choso has told his family about you. Eyes flitting between him and the door right behind you, sounding your very best not to sound just as guilty as you felt. “You’re the reason we have this weird…thing.”
A beat of silence passes. One. Two.
And just as you’re beginning to wonder whether you’ve broken Choso’s infamous uncle, he throws his head back and laughs. Laughs, right in your face, sounding like he’d just heard the funniest punchline in the world.
“Oh that’s hilarious.” he exclaims, wiping a mock tear. Cackles dying down as if he was suddenly aware that maybe Choso would hear and walk in on this impromptu interrogation. “Damn, that awful pick-up line is why you started fuckin’? I thought it’d get that sap blocked so he’d stop stalking your account so much.”
“No, we…” you hesitate, mind reeling with what Sukuna just admitted, and how bad it would really be that you’re divulging your sex life to a relative of the guy you’re fucking. Before thinking fuck it, might as well confide in someone. “...we’re just doing stuff for-” putting up air quotes. “-content.”
“Just content?”
“Just content.”
“And you like that fool?”
Your face burns at how glaringly obvious it apparently was, “...Yes.”
This seemingly sets Sukuna off on another wave of uncontrollable laughter. “Ohh, thanks for the blackmail on that emotionally-constipated brat.” Typing away on what you assume to be his Notes, he promptly turns to walk away, “See ya around, doll.”
“Wait!” you call after in confusion, making him stop and raise a brow. “Aren’t you supposed to like- I don’t know, give me advice for your nephew or something - like a good uncle?”
Scoffing, “Who said I was a good uncle?” He leans in ever-so-slightly, “Jus’ rock his world on camera or somethin’ n’ ask him out right in the middle.” Satisfied with being enough of a decent samaritan for today, he walks back with a half-wave, “He’d listen to whatever you say anyway.”
Oh. Is that so?
And Sukuna probably meant it as some joke. Something to tease the both of you with - but it’s something that sets the gears going off inside your head. Something that had you ignoring Sukuna’s slightly panicked, “Jus’ not too soon, I needa bully him with this first.”
---
You didn’t listen to Sukuna’s little plea, of course. Because only a few days later you’d steeled yourself to finally send that one text you knew would change your relationship with Choso. For the good, hopefully.
You: 9pm my place. Get ready, cuz this time we’re gonna be live ;)
Cho <3: :0
And with that, you’d thrown your phone on the bed, jittery about later tonight. Browsing through your wardrobe for that one set of barely-there lingerie in his favorite shade of pink. Hey, you could never be too prepared, right?
Nothing could’ve prepared Choso for this moment - absolutely nothing at all.
He might’ve just died and gone to heaven the very moment he read that dangerous text - finally inviting him to join one of your streams. The ones that he’d always watch in the safety of his bedroom, lights dimmed, pants bunched around his ankles.
Cock just achingly hard in his fist while he wished he was with you behind the camera. Getting you off so much better than any sextoy would. Just forcing those pretty moans from your lips - and everyone else could see that. Wish it was them ruining you instead.
Alas, it was only a dirty little fantasy.
Until now, that is.
slvt4u: Holy shit boyfriend reveal, about time.
uniwhore: THIS is the hottie from Twitter?????
itsgenslut: idfc just fuck
“Nervous?” you smirk, looking down at the man sprawled so prettily on your bed. “You look just as close to an aneurysm as you were the first time. Though-” snaking your hand down, “-this is still the same as ever.”
You chuckle at the way Choso catches your lips with his, more to shut up those pathetic little moans threatening to escape him than anything. Because every glance at you in that sinful little pink bra gave Choso a mini heart attack.
“B-baby-” he gasps, grinding his clothed erection against your palms. “I wan- hah-”
“Mhm?”
And God how you’ve ruined Choso - run him so utterly dry of his sanity.
Because he’s angling your head down, piercing cold against your tongue. “Spit.”
It was like that first time had gotten him addicted. So you do - right into his waiting mouth. Jaw dropping at the way he tips his head back, back, back to let it slide so obscenely down his throat. Moaning at just a taste of you, “God, I need to f-fucking ruin you.”
And if there’s anything you’ve learned after all these months with Choso, it’s that anything he says - he does.
The words have barely left his mouth before he’s pulling your bra off, ripping your panties easily off your hips. Each and every little regret about what a shame it was thrown out the window at the first sight of your pretty pussy.
It never gets old - and Choso could never get enough of the sinful sight - your cunt so sloppy and ready for him already.
“Cho-” you whine as ringed fingertips coming up to circle your sloppy entrance. Cold. Stretching you to insanity. “S-stop teasing.”
“Yes, ma’am. But first-” shifting you around ever-so-slightly on top of him. “Gotta show off how wet y’are f’me.”
uniwhore: did he just call her “ma’am”?? Me when??
roses101: idk who i wanna be they’re both so fucking hot ugh
“Fuck, y’look so sexy from this angle. Wonder if the camera thinks so too?”
Your face slightly burns at how he was seemingly taking over your own stream. Smug bastard, you think, glancing down at Choso, red-faced, hair untied, wearing a sly grin as his eyes slide over the flurry of comments. But two can play that game.
“Cho~” fumbling with the hem of his underwear, “You’ve been holding out on me.”
A gasp leaves you involuntarily as you tug down Choso’s boxers just enough for his throbbing cock to spring free, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Blushed your favorite shade of pink - to match your bra - so so angry and soaked in precum.
He was so intimidatingly long - longer than any of those toys you usually brought on camera. Thick enough that it had you wondering, shit, would you even be able to take it?
“S’this a-alright?” and for all his previous confidence, Choso sounded self-conscious. Peeking at you through his long lashes.
You grin, pumping a hand up and down his swollen cock, letting his precum drip down your wrist. “S’perfect.”
“God- fuck, baby. Oh-” Choso lets out breathless little profanities as you straddle his waist, dragging his weeping tip down your swollen folds. So fucking filthy as you sink down in by fucking in. Slowly. “Too- much-”
Apparently too slow because no sooner have you just taken in his fat tip, squeezing and clenching around him, that Choso’s flipping the both of you over.
“M’sorry.” he breathes into your mouth as your back hits the mattress. “M’sorry m’sorry, fuck- just can’t-” fingers immediately drawing frenzied little circles on your pulsing clit to take your mind off the dizzying stretch as he bullies his massive cock into your snug cunt. “Can’t wait can’t wait- waited too fucking long. Want this so badly-”
You felt too good. Too perfect around him.
“Ah! Hngh- Cho, oh my god. Too- ngh-” you moan, as he starts grinding in shallow, mindless little movements just to fit himself inside. Pushing and pushing, you wondered if he even realized what he was doing.
Sounding like his sanity was dwindling away with each little thrust, “S’too big? You can take it. Fuck fuck fuck please. Need this.” Pressing all the way into your lungs. “How do you wan’ it- how do you wan’ me?”
Honestly, Choso didn’t even need to ask, because he just bottoms out - heavy balls smacking against your ass, cock swollen and throbbing inside you - that you think that you just wanted him to ruin you.
“R-ruin?” his voice breaks as he repeats - more to himself than you. Oh, shit had you said that out loud? You’re speechless as Choso throws your legs over his shoulder, dragging his swollen lips lazily across your ankle. “Yes ma’am.”
Oh. You might as well have just signed off your will.
Because then he’s fucking into your sloppy cunt. Unforgiving. A man starved because he was. Jagged, quick thrusts, splitting you apart deeper and deeper on his rock-hard cock.
“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck-” he pants into your open mouth, finding it so fucking difficult to find any rhythm when your tight cunt was milking him so good. “You feel so good. So messy. Ya love it like this, huh? Being hngh- watched?”
“Hngh-” you buck wildly into his body, reaching up to play coyly with his nipple piercings. Tugging and pulling lightly. “Feels too good- are- ah- are ya sure this is your first time?”
Honestly, it was a wonder Choso didn’t cum right then and there.
Tojisslvt: need someone to fuck me like this the first time
22sabi: Typing with one hand is so hard.
DaStrongest: i could fuck her so much better than than inexperienced loser
Choso throws his head back in a cruel little laugh at that last comment, something that makes you tingle all the way from your burning cheeks to your stuffed cunt. Clamping down deliciously on Choso’s unforgiving cock in a way that makes his hips and fingers stutter.
“Ya think you could fuck her better?” it takes you a second to realize he was talking to the camera and not you. Thrusts getting sloppier, getting familiar. “I’m the one that got her so messy like this.” Purposeful. Calculated. Like he was aiming for that one-
“Fuck!” you scream as he hits that magic spot. Once. And then over and over like a man possessed. Just so utterly ruining you the way you knew he could. “Cho oh my god- I can’t hah- ngh-”
The cold metal of Choso’s rings dig into your cheek softly as he turns you head to face him. God, this was the stuff of his wildest dreams.
You - teary eyed and looking up at him like such a slut. Pussy getting wetter - tighter - as he teases you in front of the camera. Torn between running away from his relentless cock and bucking up for more more more-
“Fuck no no no- Keep your legs open, baby. Don’t hah- run away from me.” his fingers dig into your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. “Don’t- need this. Need this so ba- shit.”
And he sounded so genuinely worried he’d lose the feeling of your heady cunt. Fingers bruising on your hips as he pulls you closer. Like he was trying to fuck out any and every shred of shyness out of your body.
slvt4u: Always the quiet ones.
DaStrongest: heh, fuck off. i’d make her cum so much harder.
Now, Choso was fucking you like he had a point to prove, and it was probably the only reason he hadn’t passed out from how good your pussy felt wrapped around him.
Both of you were barely-lucid at this point - and he was out of control now.
Pussy drunk thoughts unfiltered, “No one’s ever d-done this- got me hah- feeling like this.” And you had the distinct feeling he just beat you to your original goal, letting out sweet little babbles into your open mouth - though his hips were anything but.
So hard that you were sure the creases of your sheets would leave marks for tomorrow - along with his balls on your ass, your ankles on his shoulders, lips searing against yours. It was like he wanted to prove something - to prove he was good enough to- the viewers? To you?
Knowing your body well enough to hit that one spot over and over until you were sobbing. Fingers erratic on your clit.
“Cho-” you squeal, tears springing to your eyes as he only gets sloppier. “I-I’m gonna-”
“Cum?” he breathes, as if he couldn’t believe it. And fuck if you weren’t the gates of heaven spread wide open for him then he didn’t know what was. “Fucking cum. Please please- hah- f’me. Cum on m’cock n’ make them jealous. F’me- Like you’re mine.”
You barely even realize when you are. Jaw slack, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you see stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. God, he was gonna have to go home and rewatch this stream all over again.
“Ngh- m’cumming m’cumming oh-”
Not even realizing the way you’re dragging your nails down Choso’s sculpted back. Marking up his milky skin - and he lets you.
Loved it in fact- the way he loved you.
Your eyes go wide, and Choso knows he’s fucked up. Realizing with a jolt that words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. But it’s the way you squeeze him tighter- giving him such a gorgeous little fucked-out smile that sends him over the edge.
Sharp canines digging into the crook of your neck like he wanted to break skin, holding himself back from breaking you while he cums and cums so hard it hurt. Over and over-
“Love you- love you love you love you-” he’s muttering into the skin, unbarred. “Since I first saw hah- you. Wanted this more than fuck fuck- air that I breathe.”
His seed was oozing out of you now, painting your ravaged pussy white, dribbling down your legs. So fucking full and debauched. Thick, hot globs that were sure to stain those overpriced new sheets. But did Choso care for the mess? Not at all.
Because you were holding him so impossibly tight, pushing away the strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Whispering little praises as he fucks you through his first time. Close. Warm. Everything he ever dreamed of.
“S’everything I ever dreamed of, too, Cho.”
And he knows he’s won.
urfavslvt: Proudest nut. Want more.
uniwhore: does this mean couples content??? Pls say yes plsplspls
DaStrongest: invite me next time <3
“Thought you were embarrassed.” he licks soothingly over the bite. Voice shot, piercing smooth against his tongue. Embarrassing little confessions leaving him with each spark of electricity running through his veins. “Thought you didn’t stream w’me cuz of that- but shit. Dreamed of this f’so long. So long-”
Oh?
“Hey, Cho.” your voice rings through his hazy mind. Just enough for Choso to raise his head and meet your intoxicating, sultry gaze. Giving a sly, sidelong glance at the still-blinking camera.
“Mhm?”
“Wanna film a week’s worth of ‘movies’ in advance?”
---
Sukuna (do not answer): Oi shitty nephew, where r u Jin made me come over with (half) leftovers.
You: Sorry, not home. At the movies rn.
Sukuna (do not answer): When tf do u go to movies??
You: Since now, on a date. You probably can’t relate.
Sukuna (do not answer): Stfu n’ stop lying, a date with who? Ur body pillow?? Not like u had the balls to ask out that pretty lil’ camgirl anyway.
Haha
Right?
You: *girlfriend
Sukuna (do not answer): Huh?
You: Girlfriend.
Sukuna (do not answer): THE FUCKIN’ PICK-UP LINE WORKED??
A/N. This came out a LOT longer than expected.
Plagiarism not authorized.
#choso x reader#choso smut#choso x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#choso kamo x reader#choso kamo smut#choso kamo x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#choso#tonywrites#choso kamo#gojo x reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
hello! i’m not sure if you’re taking reqs so if not feel free to skip this! i was wondering if we can get a oneshot of bakugo x reader except reader is a famous jpop idol (or even a global pop star) and bakugo is a pro hero. how the rest plays out can totally be up to you but i thought this would be a unique pairing. :)
Hi hi! Yes my reqs are open so feel free to ask as much as you´d like! I looove the idea, its literally one of my fave tropes. It´s a little short but I thought it was a cute way to start a possible relationship between bakugo and reader :>
RULES !! DO NOT COPY OR REPOST MY WORK PLEASE
⤑Back to navigation
Content: pro hero! Bakugou x idol! reader, inspo from the met gala, gn! reader, swearing cause its bakugou
✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:
Bakugou hated attending these events. The constant flashing of camera lights, the stuffiness of his suit, the obnoxious voices of paparazzi begging him to look their way. It was exhausting.
But alas, as one of the top heroes, he had to show his face more often than he´d like to and make small talk with people he could care less about. At least he´d get a few free drinks and food for the night.
As he finished walking down the red carpet and away from the dizzying lights, a figure smaller than his own bumped into him. And Bakugou in his very characteristic fashion, was ready to threat whoever wasn´t watching their step. "Oi, watch where you´re-"
The words died in his throat when his ruby eyes landed on your own. You had to be the most beautiful person he had ever seen. The luxurious fabric of your extravagant clothes complimented your features and sitted on the curves of your body just right. He realizes he was staring more than he should when your silky voice reached his ears.
"I´m so sorry!! It´s just it´s a bit hard to walk in these clothes" You admit with an embarrsed chuckle. He tsks, though there was no real annoyance directed towards you. "Can´t believe they´re making you wear something you can´t even walk in"
You chuckle feeling flattered by the concerns from someone who was so notorious for being abrasive...and devilishly handsome. "Yeah, well, you know, practicality isn´t really on top of their priority list."
To the surprise of the both of you, he holds his arm out. "What table are you assigned in?" God it took everything in him not to sweep you off your feet with the way your doe eyes were marveling up at him. You link your arm around his own. "Table three"
He hums in acknowledgement, though deep down he felt his heart hammering in his chest like a teenage boy. "Good, at least there will be a pretty face sitting with me"
It was embarrassing how quickly heat rose to your cheeks from such a common and simple compliment you heard quite often. Though it felt so different hearing it slip from his tongue. It felt genuine.
The picture you had portrayed of the pro hero Dynamight completely shattered the longer you spent the night engaged in conversation with him. He too, felt any prejudices he may have held against you for being an idol slip away. Conversation rolled easily between you two as if you had been friends for years, and for the first time in a very long time, you both truly enjoyed being there.
Of course, it didn´t make it any less exhausting. The proof being written all over your energy drained face by the time the clock struck 12 PM. Lucky you, Bakugou had a knack for being observant, so it didn´t take long before he realized how fatigued you felt, and truthfully, he wasn´t doing much better than you. He was just better at hiding it.
"Let me drive you home" It wasn´t a question, and it´s not like you had the energy to retaliate. You let him place a warm calloused hand on your waist while he led you to his car. The drive back to your home felt like it went by in a flash, though it must be because you were fast asleep.
His heart clenched when he gazed at your soft features while you were deep in slumber. But alas, the last thing he wanted was to overstep boundaries, so, albeit begrudgingly, he reached out and shook your shoulder.
"Hey, wake up, we´re here"
Your dark lashes fluttered against your cheeks before your eyelids slowly opened. It took you a long moment to gather your surroundings, but once you realized, your lips formed into a small `o´.
Bakugou thought it was a crime to look so adorable, but it´s not like he would ever tell you that. "C´mon, i´ll help you upstairs"
Once again, his hands felt just right against your body when he aided you in walking properly to your home. Everything felt like a fever dream. The way he respectfully removed any excessive fabric of clothing or the way he helped you into your bed in a surprisingly soft manner for someone so rough.
But you realized how real it was when you spotted a little note sticked to your fridge the next morning with beautifully neat handwriting saying:
"Text me xxx-xx-xx-xx"
And if anyone had seen the wide grin that spread across your face, they would have called you a simp. Maybe you were.
#katsuki bakugo x reader#bnha bakugou#mha bakugou#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugou#katsuki#my hero academia#bnha fic#bnha x reader#mha x reader#bnha#bnha bakugo katsuki#bakugou x you#bakugou fluff#mha#katsuki bakugo mha#katsuki x you#bakugo#bakugou fic#bnha fanfiction#boku no hero academia#bnha x y/n#mha x gender neutral reader#bakugo katsuki#bakugo x reader#bakugo x you#bakugo fluff#bakugo x y/n#my hero acedamia
224 notes
·
View notes
Note
hii may i request a hurt/comfort scenario with kazuha and alhaitham where reader feels insecure about their looks >< no need to specify what they feel insecure about specifically but they just don’t think they’re pretty enough for charac !!!
worthy
synopsis: you don’t feel good enough for them. they beg to differ.
characters: kazuha, alhaitham x gn!reader (separate)
warnings: hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, insecurity, crying, some humor, not proofread
notes: thanks for the request, anon! hopefully you enjoy this, i really liked how kazuha’s turned out. alhaitham was so difficult to write for this prompt though 🥲
Kazuha:
You don’t know when it started. When, one day, your brain decided to make the shift from feeling the luckiest in the world to feeling utterly trapped. Maybe it was the way people looked at him, or maybe it was the way you never felt deserving of him in the first place, but either way, it didn’t matter.
It started in little things. Most days it just consisted of you wallowing in your reflection anytime you caught a glimpse of it. A passing moment of painful recollection that makes you feel less than deserving of him.
“Are you alright?” your boyfriend blurts out randomly. It isn’t like him, you think. Kazuha has never been the type of person to waste his words so suddenly without thought. His words are usually sugar coated and flow gently in the wind so as to not evoke harsh emotions.
The question makes you visibly pause. Quietly, you clasp your hands together to stop them from the inevitable shaking. Your shoulders seem to droop a little further and he hates the way your bottom lip dips into a depressing tremble.
“I’m sorry,” you exhale defeatedly, bringing a shaky hand up to cover your mouth.
“What for? I don’t believe you’ve done anything wrong,” his gentle white brows furrow. You hate how concerned he looks. Couldn’t he just be angry for once? At least then you wouldn’t feel so insane.
You bury your face in your hands, trying to shield yourself from not only him, but the entire world. It constantly feels like you have prying eyes on you, tearing apart each and every feature on your body. And, just as you predicted earlier, the tears you’ve become long acquainted with begin to make their way to the forefront of your eyes until they’re too heavy to hold.
Kazuha gently pushes your hands aside, instinctively placing them in your lap so he could wipe away your sadness. Still, you hang your head against your aching chest and let the pain seep out through your voice, “Don’t you hate it? The way I look? Doesn’t it bother you?”
“Bother me? No. Of course not. I love everything about you. I could gaze into a thousand sunsets and the view still wouldn’t be as alluring as you are. There is no amount of stars in the beaming night sky or the deep red of fresh autumn leaves that could compare to you. Every time my hand aches to write a piece of poetry, it longs to write about you.”
You bashfully look away, trying to hide the smile appearing through your frown as you gaze out into the field next to you. Tenderly, Kazuha tilts your face back toward his as his ruby red eyes stare intensely into yours. You look back and forth between them before laughing quietly through your tears.
He hums proudly, shaking your shoulder a bit before leaning in to place a quick kiss to your lips, “and don’t try to deny it. You know every word I speak is nothing but the truth. I would never lie to you, honestly.”
Your eyes soften as you look at him, understanding now that your boyfriend is right. You’ve read his writing enough to know that whatever Kazuha found to hold truly beautiful was indeed actually beautiful. Because, in a world full of subjectivity, his word is like the law.
Alhaitham:
Alhaitham is practically flawless in all ways. It’s something you’ve realized long before you began dating him — began being friends, even. Aside from his harsh personality, he’s handsome, intelligent, a good leader, and so much more.
It makes you question why he’s even with you. Most of the time, you only joke about it with him and sometimes he even laughs about it. But there are the times where it isn’t just a passing comment or silly thought in the back of your mind, but rather, a growing virus that spreads a dangerous, lingering toxin throughout your body.
“Is something the matter?” Alhaitham nudges your shoulder quietly from beside you. He’s nice enough not to embarrass you in front of the group, shockingly. Despite being his partner, he didn’t often spare you of his “cruelties.”
Your eyes snap to his and out of the faraway place of insecure thoughts you were trapped in for a moment. Silently, you nod and return to listening to the group of people presenting a project to Alhaitham for approval at the Akademiya. His eyes continue to linger on you for a second, not buying any lies you might make up to make it seem like you’re okay. As apathetic as he may be, Alhaitham has indeed found a place in his heart to care about you.
But you can’t help but feel insecure as you watch them. All of them are so attractive and everyone in the room looks so drawn to them, eager to get a word in after. It makes you wonder what Alhaitham even sees in you. A man like himself, he could have anyone in the world.
“I could.”
“What?” your head snaps to him in terror, whispering a little too harshly, “did I say that out loud?”
“No. I can read minds, so I know what you’re thinking,” your boyfriend says blankly. You stare at him in sheer panic before the tiniest of smiles breaks out on his face, “I was joking.”
You frown and shove him ever so slightly away from you, “Yeah, well you sure have a funny way of showing it.”
Alhaitham takes one step closer to you than he had before, assuming the position he was in before you pushed him away. Only this time, he gently loops his arm with yours, something he only does when he feels a little more like showing affection. He isn’t the most physically affectionate, but you know what he means by it.
“I’m serious. I know that look on your face,” he whispers from next to you before turning to actually face you, “I could have anyone in the world, so why do you think I chose you?”
“Out of pity? I mean, look around us. I’m not exactly the best looking here,” you mumble, attempting to fight off the growing lump in your throat. So maybe Alhaitham isn’t so perfect, because you sure as hell hate the way he shows comfort.
He sighs irritated, “No, you idiot. Pity is a form of emotion I’ve never felt for anyone, not even you. You’re above the rest of them, so don’t doubt it for a second. If you weren’t, I wouldn’t be standing here with you right now.”
“You’re so mean, you know? You don’t have to put other people down just to make me feel better,” you say, fighting a smile. He really should’ve taken a class on human emotion back in his scholar days.
Alhaitham turns away from you now, facing the presenters and ignoring your defense against his words, “I only speak truthfully. You are the only person in all of Teyvat that I want. You can choose to believe it or not, but that’s factual information.”
He’s right. Alhaitham hates lying because he sees no point in it. It’s something he’s told you a thousand times, maybe even more.
“Will you say it then?”
You still don’t believe him anyway.
He quirks a brow, “Say what?”
You hold onto his arm a little tighter, afraid he might slip away from you. That bit of doubt still lingering in your mind, “That you think I’m…you know…?”
Alhaitham sighs but gives in regardless. Staring you dead in the eyes with no room for any semblance of a lie, he whispers quietly, “Yes, I think you’re the prettiest person in all of Teyvat.”
#genshin#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact fanfiction#kazuha#kazuha x reader#kazuha x y/n#kazuha x you#kaedehara kazuha x y/n#kaedehara kazuha x you#kaedehara kazuha x reader#alhaitham#alhaitham x you#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham x y/n
216 notes
·
View notes
Text
Choso remembers you saying something about it. In fact, you had asked him incredulously, “Cho, you have never touched yourself?”
And you said it so confused and almost sad, like you were genuinely upset for him. “That’s why you’re so pent up all the time,” you added. “It’s not something you should feel bad about.”
The memory crowded his brain when he returned to his apartment one night, slightly angry and plagued by what he doesn’t yet recognize as overstimulation, just thinking maybe his ponytails are too tight and adding to his headache. His muscles were sore as well, which didn’t help.
So he leisurely showers and lays in bed, trying his best to fall asleep and end his emotional torture, but it’s to no avail. He lays there on his back with his eyes closed. Contemplating. He has a hard time going to bed with the whole curse thing anyway.
Thinking back, you implied that the action was some type of release of frustration or stress. Choso understands that his head is constantly wracking about familial stuff, staying alive, his rent; it never truly stops. But what if it could?
The thought is crude, like it should be forbidden to indulge in himself that way. But you said there was nothing to be ashamed of, and above all else, he trusts you the most.
You. It all started with you. You were always helping him out, being his best friend and patiently teaching him things that nobody else could bring themselves to say. You were there for him and he owes you the world.
In fact, sometimes he would ask questions or pretend to be uninformed just so you could explain random, usually unimportant, stuff. He couldn’t understand why, but your puffy lips as you speak and your pretty eyes glistening— on the verge of full laughter at his confusion— makes the air thick around him. He’s only half human, but it’s like he carries the desire equivalent to a full one. He has barely been able to control himself.
In the darkness of his room, under the covers, Choso doesn’t even notice his hand trailing down his abdomen and over the cloth of his loose pants. It was so natural how he began to lazily dig the heart of his palm through the fabric, gently at first.
You had shown him the different pleasures of the world around him, most of which you liked to do. Mall shopping, for example. He thought it only made sense to carry your bags while you hopped from store to store, and in return, he got some say on what you left the store with. You couldn’t care less about the male opinion on how short your skirt was, but Choso was different. You knew it would be unfeigned.
“How’s this one?”
You step out of the dressing room in a pair of high heels that laced up to your calf and twirl in the skin-tight dress. The color fell on your complexion perfectly, it cinched your waist in just right, and covered just enough of what it needed to. The fabric hugged your thighs and the intended sheerness of the dress left just a faint shadow of the red set you were wearing underneath. But there was no point in waiting for his answer; it was all over his face.
He was speechless. He sat with his mouth slightly agape, holding his gaze to you up and down. You clear your throat, finally drawing his eyes up to yours, and he somewhat comes to his senses.
“Y-you look great.” He mutters.
Of course it’s in your nature to tease him, rolling your eyes jokingly: “Just great? God, Cho, I see how much you hate me now.” But you didn’t expect the immediate response after.
“No, no— more than that. There’s not a word for it.”
Now you were speechless, staring at him with the astonishment he had on his face previously.
Choso’s large hand wasn’t as gentle now, driving deep into himself in search for friction. His breathing slightly picked up from the movements since the room was becoming hotter around him, stifling even, so he throws the covers off his wanting body. With a deep sigh and furrowed brows, he tries to relax back into his pillow, welcoming the small hums and the newfound rush of cool air against his open chest.
Every now and then he’d also think about the time you took him swimming. He already knew how as a survival instinct, but that wasn’t the point. You were showing him around. Popsicles, hot summer days, and glowy laughs.
After the both of you sat on your beach chairs while munching on your matching snowcones, you agreed to get in the water if he did. That’s how found yourselves at the steps of the pool, Choso trying his damndest to be respectful when you remove your cover up, but he somehow can’t peel his eyes away no matter how hard he tries. You’re too busy thinking if you should revoke your statement while glancing at your reflection. Unfortunately for you though, you hadn’t thought that he would have no reaction at all to the water temperature and step right in without hesitation.
“You are insane,” you declare, your eyes hopefully showing the fear through your shades. Choso chuckles and stands at his full height in the three feet, and instead of trying to figure out if you were staring at his dripping figure, he glides towards you in the water.
He reaches out for you, still stuck with only your feet in the pool.
“Here, give me your hand.”
Reluctantly, you do. He walks backwards into the water.
In an escape from the cold, you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close, linking your ankles behind his hips. He tries his best to keep his breathing steady as you stay hooked to him. “I’m going to sink in, okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah okay,” you breathe.
Everywhere you connected was hot despite the coolness of the water nipping at you, and yet it didn’t make the journey down any easier. His hands hooked under your thighs as comfortably as possible, but the main burn in your heart stemmed from the words. It was truly an endeavor not to think about them out of context because surely he didn’t even notice the accidental innuendo.
Choso held his breath during the slow, controlled descent while you clung onto him. It isn’t until you get to the bottom that the real fight emerges.
“Oh, It’s not that bad!”
And even though he’s squatting, leaving both of you completely surrounded in the pool, when you pull away with a fat smile on your face and the shades pushed up, Choso could barely even think.
His hand finally pushes past the waistband. It wasn’t hard to find his length that was already standing up as far as it was allowed in his pants.
His eyes tighten when he feels the pressure of own his grip, and how relieving it was. Slowly, his hand moves up against the taut skin, only to be hit with a substance he feels blindly at the tip. He kicks his pants off with an easy motion in order to see himself.
He was flushed but too aroused to be embarrassed. Already gathering sweat and heart beating fast, he recognizes he has two options. Stop, or keep going without full knowledge of how to do it. Usually he’d ask you, but he’s smart, and some things he has to figure out on his own. Plus, he’s sure it all comes to the same outcome.
He swipes the substance from the top, and without a second thought, spreads it around so it eases the journey his hand slowly takes up and down his shaft.
When you looked at him that day, you glistened with a happiness he’d never seen before in his arms. Holding onto him even when you no longer needed to. He might as well have been looking at the fucking sun because he would do anything to see you like that again: staring at him like he was the only person in the world, your breasts close to spilling from your bikini top, hair tossing in your face from the wind, and only inches away from where he now recognized he wanted your lips most. His.
He could spot every freckle and dimple in your skin.
But that wasn’t even the best part. Your fingertips rested on his jaw and your palms on his neck, slowly caressing him while you dipped further on top of him underwater. You told him there shouldn’t be anything under his swim shorts. Of course he listened, but now he’s trying to determine if it’s a blessing or a curse. Intentional or not, every time you moved, the touch of your bare skin and the hold he had on where your thighs meet your ass was electrifying and downright addictive. He can still feel it to this day.
Choso’s heart rate was skyrocketing. He lacked some understanding, but he wasn’t stupid. He may not necessarily know what love should feel like, or reciprocated feelings, but he knows what he’s feeling now isn’t to be ignored. If it was, it wouldn’t be so goddamn suffocating.
His free hand brushes the hair over his forehead back at the epiphany. His other one is controlled, sliding up and down his cock continuously. There was so much precum leaking at his sensitivity, making his eyes flutter and his words unstable. At first it was just groans and soft moans falling from his lips. But now, he needs the words for what he’s about to do next.
Somehow he finds his hand hovering atop his bedside table, ripping his phone off the charger and dialing your number.
A few rings later, he hears your faint air conditioning in the background. “Cho?”
Instead of a response, a heavy, elongated sigh sounds on the line. Your voice was so refreshing to hear that it actually startled him. He thought he was ready to talk about whatever his feelings were, or ask about them, but maybe he got intentions of the choice to call you slightly wrong. His thumb slips just under his pink head, flinching his hips and ejecting whimper from his mouth.
He stares into the darkness, not even attempting to hide. “H-hello,” he mumbles.
“Are you okay? It’s pretty late.”
“I’m fine.”
“Good.”
Choso swallows, putting the phone beside his ear. He looks down at what he’s doing. Calves straining, cock throbbing, and muscles tensing. Had he always been this reactive? You both rest in silence, his as an occupied one, but a silence nonetheless before he interrupts it.
“I wanted to—” His grip became a little too hard and a low groan slips into the mic. He was trying to communicate without notifying you of what he’s doing, but you had brought it up so he doubts you would mind if it came to that. “—hear your voice.”
“Well, I’m here now. Hey, are you sure you’re completely fine?”
“I-I… fuck,” Choso curses, which is a rarity in all honesty, “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
He hears you shuffle. He assumes you sat up, intrigued. “Oh yeah?”
It’s like you were put on this earth just for him—to guide him, to trouble him, but it’s all a side of the same coin. And he loves every second of it. Your voice was so fulfilling even with its mocking tone, and maybe it’s just the arousal coursing through him, but he recognizes it as what it is. Flirting. With this fact, the world slows, leaving the intensity of the moment and the growing feeling in his lower half. His speech is impaired by his own breathing.
“Yeah,” he replies. Breathless and hot.
Once again, there’s another moment of silence. A squelch sound bounces off his length as he increases speed, still shimmering with wetness in the dark, and he’s thinking maybe you fell asleep. His balls tighten every now and then and he thanks the universe for the signal because when he touches them, his eyes almost roll to the back of his head before closing.
The sound he releases is mostly air. It was frantic and choppy and loud, as well as completely received on your end.
“Where are your hands?”
He processes your voice, blinking his eyes open slowly. “Huh?”
“Where are your hands, Choso.”
He tips his chin down, glancing at the stickiness between his fingers and his dick standing tall, itching for more. It’s weird, he thinks, but he admires his work and how he doesn’t feel dirty or the least bit uncomfortable with it. He watches the clearish-white seep from the peak when his fingers clamp around his base and squeeze; he hums satisfactorily.
“Busy.”
Incredulously, you parrot, “Busy?” A smile inches onto your face and he only knows because he can hear it in your voice. “Are they stroking anything, by any chance?”
On that note, he begins undulating again, tipping his head back to the pillow. It was burning desire, for multiple things. He didn’t know what, but you’re for sure one of them.
He grins softly but cockily, “Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do? Because I’m so ‘pent up’ all the time?” He turns his head to the phone as if it were you lying beside him.
You both laugh in a daze, the feeling surreal. It then goes quiet.
“I’m feeling a little pent up right now, actually,” you coo.
Choso copies, “Oh yeah?” And he understands what you mean, because his cock tightens and warms. His speed enhances once more, sloshing somewhere in the back of the call and making the “h” sounds of his words lengthy.
“Yeah,” you moan on the other line. It was light; lighter than his. But his are the very reason why.
On top of the pleasant surprise of him taking your advice, he called you to experience it, and his voice is deep with fatigue but serene with arousal. It didn’t take a genius to guess what you were doing in response. “How does it feel Choso?”
“Keep talking and I’ll see.”
That instant he twitches, his hips now thrusting up into his fist for some type of release. It was growing with every word you spoke. He bites his lip and keeps his eyes closed to relish in the moment because it is ten times more exhilarating in someone else’s presence. Yours.
“Are you close?” You question. Your breath was more contained than his, but he could hear the movement of the covers.
Another grunt, “Yes.” In fact, he was so close, there isn’t anything else that he’d want. It practically overtook him.
He could barely hear you, or understand you, rather. And if he did, it took him repeating your words over again.
“You were thinking about me, weren’t you?”
It was snappy but his voice gave it away. “I called, didn’t I?”
“I bet you’re imagining it’s my hand, right? Or when you come it’s my face you’re spilling on?”
He curses under his breath, jolting his hips up and gripping his cock harder. Rougher. No, he actually wasn’t imagining that, but now that you brought it to life there’s no going back.
What you said after was unfortunately heard loud and clear.
“Slow down for me.”
And it should have been embarrassing how instantly he took his hand away, because if he didn’t, cum would be painted on his chest by now. He groans strongly and hisses as if in pain at your denial, breaths thick and weighty. “H-Holy shit.”
Choso never got angry at really anything, but here he was, brows low in irritation. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him raise his voice over the calming way he spoke either, but that doesn’t matter now. Had he gone slow he still would have came.
He speaks as confidently as you laying on his back, dry hand flipped on his forehead while his breathing regulates. “Why won’t you let me come?”
You had your own reasons, one of which being you took it as the perfect opportunity to pleasure yourself. “Because I said so.”
Choso opens his eyes to his cock as possibly erect as it could get, bobbing with every time he moved. It was an angry red instead of its usual pink now. “I’m so close,” he placates himself a bit, “…just…let me.”
You don’t respond, just release small whimpers of your own— but he knows you’re still listening. He sighs deeply, “…Please.”
It was so breathless it might as well have been a moan in its own: “What’d you say?”
“What?”
“I didn’t hear you.” You heard him.
“…Please let me come.”
He was shaking, his hand already wandering closer to his dick in pure anticipation you would say yes. Thank God you did after a few quiet seconds that were anything but tranquil— he actually thought that he was about to pop.
It’s swift when he cups his hands and runs from the base to the tip, squeezes there, and uses a few of the fingers to drag over the wet skin of his balls. The sounds he made previously come back tenfold.
His hips jerk and his abdomen follows. His back lifts from the bed, causing him to rise onto an elbow as he strokes himself through his climax. His engorged cock throbs in his hand and he shudders. He shuts his eyes just as milky white cum flies out in spurts around his waist and stomach.
Meanwhile, your own peak was near, and when Choso huffs through his, yours hits like a train. His vision was black and spotty, but he could hear you cry his name somewhere in the distance. This only made it worse. You carry him even farther into his orgasm since he thinks about what they’ll sound like in person. His name rolls off your tongue so beautifully already; when you’re under him it’ll put him on his deathbed.
He blinks his eyes open to the mess that he can’t bring himself to care about in the moment. He flops backward onto his bed sheets while trying to keep his lungs in order.
It seems to be that for you as well because a few much needed-minutes pass.
“Cho?”
He hums back leisurely.
You ask, soft and sweet. “Can I come over?”
“See you in ten,” he sits up.
©️hxltic
#this was longer than intended#smut#jjkaisen#jjk#jjk smut imagine#jjk x you#god i want him so bad#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk fanfic#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen choso#choso kamo#jjk choso#choso my beloved#choso x reader#choso smut#choso x you#choso x female reader#choso jjk#choso jujutsu kaisen#choso kamo jjk#kamo choso#new jjk#choso drabbles#choso imagine#choso jjk imagine
198 notes
·
View notes
Text
Small Fry - L. Hughes
hockey masterlist || g's graduation celebration
synopsis: it's the middle of the night and you can't sleep, the only thing that can soothe it, is a late night run for chicken nuggets
word count: 709
warnings: pregnancy, cravings, fluff
It was almost 2AM, and you were wide awake, staring at the ceiling. The windows were open, letting in the soft breeze that was rolling off the lake. Surprisingly, all the boys in the house had gone to bed somewhat early, tired and exhausted after a full day of boating and wake surfing. You had called it a night around 10PM, fully preparing to sleep like the dead after having a long day, however, the growing child in your stomach had other plans.
You couldn’t sleep, your back ached and you were starving. You were at the point in your pregnancy where no matter what you did, your body ached and no matter how much you ate, you were still hungry. Whoever told you that the last trimester was full of bliss and wonder had lied to you. You had already ventured down stairs once to see if there was anything in the house that would satisfy your cravings, and you were sadly disappointed that amongst the very full fridge and pantry, not a single thing would suffice.
You considered waking Luke, but you were hoping that the baby in your belly would stop kicking and you would just go back to sleep. He hadn’t moved a single inch despite your huffing, puffing and moving. But the curl haired boy next to you remained sprawled out, his lips parted as soft snores left his mouth. He looked peaceful with the slightest bit of a sunburn across his cheeks.
You hated how he could just sleep so peacefully while you were being used as a personal punching bag.
You huffed again, adjusting and sitting up higher in bed, crossing your arms over your growing belly.
Luke must’ve sensed your unease, as he rolled over, slinging his arm over your belly, “Sleep,” he mumbled.
"Can't," You sighed, and ran your hands through his curls.
"What's wrong?" Luke was now waking up, and looked up at you with his big blue eyes, "Baby okay?"
"No. I'm hungry, and fat," You said, and Luke sat up, looking at you, "I want nuggets."
"How did I guess," He smiled, and leaned up to kiss you. He pushed back the covers, and rolled out of bed. His pajama pants were slung low on his hips, and he grabbed a sweatshirt from the ground. He walked over to you, helping you out of bed and pulled you up, "Come on, mama. Let's go find you nuggets."
You were thankful that the McDonalds by the lake house was open 24-hours, and so was Luke. Mood swings hadn't been easy on you or him, and he was worried that if he got there and they were closed, it could be a long ride back home. Luke ended up ordering himself something too, and drove back to the lake house. He grabbed the bag of food as you waddled your way down to the dock, the moon high in the sky lighting the way.
The warm Michigan air felt good, as you happily ate away at your nuggets. You and Luke talked about names again, throwing around both girls and boys names since you had decided against knowing the gender.
"Luke," You asked your boyfriend, and he looked at you, "Can I have your fries? Don’t judge me, the baby’s hungry."
"The baby, huh?" Luke smirked, and handed you his fries, "What about. . . Arthur for a boy?"
"Like that bald rabbit from the kids show?"
"Okay guess that's a no. . . Thomas?"
"I like Thomas. For a girl, I still like Eleanor."
Luke smiled softly to himself, he liked the name too. In the back of his mind, he always wanted to name his child after his parents. They had given him everything, they had taught him the game of hockey, drove him all over for the sport and stood by his side during the good times and bad. His only fear was not being half the parent that they were. But as you told him over and over, as long as their child was happy, healthy and taken care of, they were doing their job correctly.
And a couple months later when their baby girl, Luke knew right away that there was no better name than Caroline Eleanor Hughes.
note: hi, yes, welcome to my hockey blog :) requests are open! and I hope to have a masterlist outline posted soon!
#Luke hughes imagine#Luke hughes fan fic#Luke Hughes fan fiction#Luke hughes x reader#Luke hughes blurb#Luke hughes fic#lh43#hockey imagine
176 notes
·
View notes
Text
It's the middle of the night in Fawsett city, it's very cold and Billy Batson is trying to sleep, curling up with his favorite plushie tiger in a dark alley in the heart of the city.
Suddenly his communicator starts making noise, the Justice League needs him! And he is on his way! He gets up and starts to get out of the alley, he speaks with confidence!
"Hello! Yes I am here!"
".... Who are you? We need to talk to Captain Marvel...?"
Oh no. That's Batman. Oh shit.
He forgot to turn into Marvel first, and now everything is gonna be bad! He doesn't need another foster home! He's doing good by himself! And now the Justice League hates him!
"Be calm." It's Solomon! He always gives good advice"You are a kid right now, act like it! Pretend to be Billy."
"Oh! You mean... Uh... Dad?" Ok now that's a long shot there's no way-
"Yes sweetie... your dad.... Can you give this to him...?"
No way. No bloody way. (He's spending too much time with Constantine.)
"Ok! Just a moment!"
SHAZAM!
"Hi hello? Captain Marvel here."
"..."
"Hello? Is there anyone there?" Do you think he knows? "Be patient."
"Captain Marvel, Batman here. We are gonna have to talk about this at a later date. Right now we need your help with-"
------
The next day, when Captain went to deliver his report of the mission at the Watchtower tensions were high and everyone seemed to be staring at him.
Oh that's not good.
"Marvel! Mind if we have a word with you?" Batman says, right behind him is Superman and the both of them don't seem to be too amused, well at least Batman isn't.
Oh that's definitely not good.
"Of course not! What can I help you guys with?" He looks at the clock in the nearest wall.
"We won't take too much of your time. Just going to ask you to please not let the communication devices near your child again." Oh they really believed that?!
"Oh ok! Uh... You know how they can get... Haha..." That's gonna be awkward to deal with....
"We are not judging you!!" Superman says a bit too fast. "It's good to know more about you! I mean family it's a good thing to have! I mean we know you are a private person-"
"Don't worry about it. I won't let it happen again! For now Billy will not be near the comms!"
Well shit.
"Well it's getting a bit late... And uh... I really gotta be home..." Get out of there! Before you say something more stupid!!
As the captain was leaving he could feel Batman looking at him, before he completely left the room he looked back only to see him starting to search for something on his personal computer (it's no batcomputer but it does his job) and the only thing he can think of is "I'm so screwed".
Sure one name isn't a lot, but he looks just like his dad, and making the comparison is not gonna be hard for the world's best detective.
And he really doesn't want to pretend to be his dad. Well not again at least.
Well time to pretend to kill my kid! Again.
That time with that fairy prince was really unfortunate.
84 notes
·
View notes
Note
OH can you please do "What do you need?" "A hug." for jily <333
from this prompt list
She’s been going for 20 minutes.
“It’s fucking ridiculous!”
James nods dutifully from his place on the couch. “Absolutely.”
“And it’s not as if Slughorn has the bollocks to actually say anything. Not beyond his usual rubbish anyway which is the whole reason Mulciber has the audacity to spout his blood supremacy nonsense at the bloody dinner table.”
“I hate that guy.”
Lily wheels around from where she’s been pacing by the fireplace. “Right? And I swear, James, he was pissed when he got to the dinner and Sluggy’s mead just made it worse. I was just sitting there, having to listen to him, as he…as he stares at me, over pudding. Because he doesn’t care that everyone knows exactly who he’s talking about. He makes my skin crawl, James.”
James takes a steadying breath and forces himself to continue to track Lily as she paces about the room, his face neutral and attentive. She’s made it clear enough times before that she won’t allow herself to go on these rants around him if she has to worry that he’ll just take them as permission to go hex the Slytherins. It’s a test of his self-control every time.
“I just wish that someone else would say something. For once! That it wouldn’t be me against the entire—”
James scoffs, his practised patience wearing thin. “I’ve told you—”
“You hate the Slug Club, James,” she interrupts with a sigh. “Don’t you remember the last time?”
Does he ever. Things had spiralled out of control at dinner, and the tension had spilled over into the corridors right after the party. Fortunately, Lily had the presence of mind to fetch Slughorn before anyone ended up needing a trip to the hospital wing. The Potions professor had quickly sent James and the Slytherins to their respective dorms, deducting only a few points from each house.
Of course, James and his friends had settled the score later that week, far from Slughorn’s watchful eye—but Lily didn’t need to know everything.
“And besides,” she continues, “I already know how you feel and it…it means everything to me, to have you on my side. But Jesus, James, you’d think at least one of the posh twats Sluggy invites week after week could at least have some sympathy.”
“Speaking on behalf of the posh twats of the world,” James begins, clearing his throat.
Lily cracks a smile, the first real win of the evening for James. “Oh, stop that,” she says, shaking her head. “We’re far too good of friends for you to fool me with that anymore.”
Friends. Good friends. Great friends!
James gives her a practised smile as she settles beside him on the couch, turning sideways to face him, knees drawn up to her chin.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I really did mean for us to study. I—”
He shakes his head. “I’m happy to be a listening ear, Evans.”
She smiles softly, resting her chin on her knees as she watches him. The firelight dances across her face and hair, casting a warm glow that makes her look radiant. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Rot of boredom, probably,” he quips.
“You just…” She purses her lips. “You always know exactly what to do. What to say. It’s like…it’s like you’ve read the Lily Evans Manual.”
James forces himself not to drop his gaze, not to give up and openly confess how he’s studied her so closely for the past six and a half years that he could write a Lily Evans Manual.
“You make me sound way cooler than I am,” he says, leaning on one crooked arm against the back of the couch. “Do go on.”
She laughs, the sound muffled as she buries her face behind her knees, eyes squeezed shut. James's gaze lingers on her, absorbing every detail, as he commits the sight and sound of her to memory.
“I’m sorry you have to deal with them,” he says quietly, resisting the urge to reach across and lift her chin to meet his eyes. “It’s not fair.”
“No,” she sighs, “it’s not.”
“What do you need?” he asks. “I know hexing Mulciber is regrettably off the table for me,” (she laughs again) “but we could go get some ice cream from the kitchens or if you’d rather go ahead and start studying—”
“A hug,” she interrupts him.
His eyes widen. “From…me?”
“I mean,” she hesitates, her voice softening with uncertainty, “not if…not if it’s an inconvenience. I don’t—”
Before she can finish—before she can change her mind—he swiftly crosses the space between them on the couch and wraps his arms around her. Her knees collapse at once, falling off the couch between them, so she can press herself more fully against the solidness of his chest, her arms threading tight around his shoulders.
And they’re just friends. Good friends. Great friends! But he wouldn’t trade it for the world—not really.
61 notes
·
View notes
Text
warnings : intimate moments (not sex), i think that’s all
pairing : boyfriend!rafe x girlfriend!reader
summary : rafe crossed the line
it was almost 12 pm. normally you’d be sleeping already but unfortunately, you have to study for tomorrow.
your eyes were heavy, half closed. you were laying on your bed, since you couldn’t keep sitting for another hour.
for couple of seconds your eyes closed but they shut open when you heard few knocks on your window. you stood up and walked towards it, yawning.
you opened one of the three windows and looked outside.
,,hey baby.” rafe smiled at you, running his fingers throught his hair. he finally sees you for the first time today.
,,hey.” you mumbled, as you rubbed your right eye gently. you were wearing rafe’s oversized grey shirt he gave you few days ago.
he smiled even more when he saw you’re sleeping in this specific shirt. his shirt. he then spoke up again.
,,can i come in?” you were staring at him for a while, thinking about his offer. even tho you were exhausted, you decided to say yes.
when he got inside, he actually got worried cause there were like ten opened books on your bed, some notes placed on your table.
you laid back down on your bed and after a while rafe joined you. he looked at you, with a small soft smile.
,,for how long have you been studying baby? you look.. tired.” rafe caressed your hair slowly.
you sat up again, which made rafe’s palm slid down on your back. ,,for a while, don’t worry.” you mumbled.
he couldn’t help but start to feel a bit excited.. your tiredness, the way you run your fingers throught your hair and the way your eyes blink slowly.. somehow all of this turned him on a little bit. or maybe it was because he hasn’t seen you all day? who knows.
you weren’t paying attention to that at all. you were too busy reading stuff about acids and bases, another informations you’ll never use.
after couple minutes, you could feel rafe’s lips softly pressing against the side of your neck, which made you close your eyes for couple seconds.
,,rafe.. i’ve had a bad day..” you said, meaning every word that left your mouth. rafe just smirked lightly, and kept kissing your neck.
,,maybe i could.. make it better.” he mumbled under his kisses, smirk still remaining on his face. his hand moved towards yours, gently taking the notes out of your hand before he placed them on the ground.
after couple seconds he got on top of you, now pressing his lips on yours. his hands were running over your hips, caressing them slowly with his fingers.
,,rafe, not today.. please.” you whispered to him, in between your kisses. his mouth left yours for a while, so he could speak.
,,shh baby you’re clearly exhausted just.. just relax, alright?” he said, before he started kissing your neck again.
you didn’t want to have sex, not after you’ve had like the worst day ever. you also didn’t want to piss him off, but you’re not even in the mood.
you could feel him getting lower, his kisses caressing your collarbone now. meanwhile, his palms were already touching your thighs under your shirt.
you hated that you didn’t like it, that your body wasn’t reacting like it normally would. the only thing you wanted at that moment was sleep. you needed to sleep after this very long and hard day.
you didn’t even realize that he was already shirtless, actually you both were. you were laying under him, just in your black bra and black underwear. when you looked at him with your tired eyes, you could see his smirk widening.
,,you’re so beautiful.” he whispered before leaning closer to you again, leaving kisses all over your chest. when you saw him taking off his shorts, his lips still on your chest, you just lost it.
it wasn’t like you were scared of him or something, you know he wouldn’t hurt you, ever, even when it comes to this. but you just really didn’t want to do it. not today.
rafe was about to kiss your lips again but he stopped when he saw tears on your face. his smirk quickly faded away.
,,please, stop.. please.” you cried out softly, your teary eyes staring on his face. he placed his palm on your cheek, his thumb wiping away your tears.
,,hey shh..shh, i’ll.. stop now.” he whispered to you. he felt so bad right now. he moved next to you and put his shirt back on.
,,baby i.. i’m so sorry.” he whispered, ran his fingers throught his hair. he wanted nothing more than just comfort you and make things right.
,,it’s fine. i’m sorry i just..” you rubbed your eyes, your wet cheeks making his heart ache. he made you cry. oh he felt like shit.
,,don’t apologize baby, i fucked up okay?” he laid next to you, his arm wrapped around your shoulders again. he pulled you closer to him, his other hand went around you.
,,i’m so sorry baby.” he kissed the top of your head, slowly caressing your back. you kept sobbing for couple minutes. he looked down at you when he didn’t hear your sobs anymore, and the view of you made him smile. you’re so cute when you’re asleep.
he kept hugging you, his head lightly pressing against the top of yours. after a while he also closed his eyes and fell asleep.
i hope you’ll like this since it’s quite a short story :) also i’m working on my masterlist rn 🫶🏻
#blow up#obx#obx fic#outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe fic#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe x reader#rafe x you#rafe x y/n#rafe x fem!reader#rafe x female!mc#soft rafe cameron#rafe imagine#outerbanks rafe#rafe fanfiction#fem reader#soft stuff#comfort#viral#viralpost#go viral#viralpage#foryou#tumblr fyp#blow this up
80 notes
·
View notes
Text
Evan hated parties.
He hated people, really. Most he knew were loud, annoying, shallow. The purebloods around him were always rambling about blood purity, and the Mudbloods were always whining about Muggle rights. It was exhausting to even be a part of wizarding society.
Which was why he’s not even sure why he’s going to this party.
The invitations to the party were sent out a month ago; only the Dark Lord’s closest supporters and most trusted followers were allowed. Or forced, more like. Evan was proud of his allegiance and role as a Death Eater- he took pleasure in ridding the world of Muggle scum. But the social obligations were too much. Ridiculous, really.
Still. It wasn’t exactly like he could refuse to go. Anyone who turned down the Dark Lord was a fool. Evan may be stupid, but he wasn’t completely moronic.
He eyed himself in the mirror in front of him. The robes he was wearing were bulky to fit his frame; any less and he would’ve had trouble breathing. It was logical, he knew, but looking at himself, he felt nothing but shame. Disgust. Loathing.
How fat he was. He’d cut himself off from dessert for a month, and this was the result?
Disgusting.
“Oi, Rosie,” Barty said, and Evan scowled. He hated that nickname. “Hurry up, will you? We’ll be late.”
“Give me a minute,” he snapped, trying not to take his eyes off his reflection. He knew if he did, he would have to look at Barty, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to. He didn’t need the reminder of how painfully good-looking that jackass was. Even more so than him.
“You know, I’ve never met someone so vain,” Barty said loudly. Evan raised his middle finger over his shoulder, and stared at himself.
His hair was sleek, which was okay, he supposed. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle a bad hair day and feeling fat. But his stomach…he squinted closer. Oh, Merlin, it was sticking out. It looked bloated. Shit. He cursed himself for not skipping lunch. All that roasted turkey he ate was coming back to bite his ass, and he had no one to blame but himself.
Stop that slouching, Evander, he could hear his mother saying sharply. It makes you look fat. He straightened his spine immediately, pulling in his stomach. Would that make a difference? He craned his neck, holding his breath. He wouldn’t dare to hope, but….
No. It was the same.
He deflated, all his energy draining out of him. He was so tired. He really didn’t want to go to this stupid party.
“Ready?” Barty asked impatiently; the brunette had started tapping his foot to the tune of some Celestina Warbeck song, one of the ones that was always blasting on the radio. Tap. Tap tap. Tap. Tap tap tap.
Oh, that little shit. Evan refused to look at him, choosing to glare at the mirror instead.
Stupid, stupid body.
“Evan, we’re going to be late.”
Oh, the things he would do to just lose 10 pounds.
“Merlin’s pants, Rosie, I swear. Are you fishing for compliments? Your vain ass need external validation?” Barty’s voice was sneering. “You look moderately less ugly than usual- there, does that make you feel better?”
I feel so fat.
It was 4 words, a thought that had lived in his head since he was young. It wasn’t new, it wasn’t surprising. It was something Evan told himself a million times, something he’d felt every time he looked into the mirror. He was used to it. It was a phrase engraved into his mind, a phrase his tongue knew purely from muscle memory.
But then he caught Barty’s face in the mirror- wide eyes, slack jaw. Oh shit. Had he said that out loud?
“Fat?” Barty echoed, disbelievingly. He gave a small laugh. “Rosie, come on, you’re not fat-”
“Shut up.” Evan forced his voice to be smooth, clipped. Uncaring. But his next words came out strangled, like they were wrenched from his mouth. “You have no idea what it’s like. You’re skinny, Barty.”
Barty fell silent, his lips moving to voice words that didn’t quite come out. That, more than anything, was unnerving. Barty always spoke whatever was on his mind- he was never at a loss for words. Never.
Evan bit his lip, turning away from the mirror at last. He fixed his gaze on the poster on the wall, displaying the Weird Sisters, a band of witches that had just begun their great debut. He felt a searing sensation behind his eyes and prayed it wasn’t tears. He could not- would not- cry in front of Barty. He hadn’t cried in front of anyone in 7 years, and he preferred not to break that streak.
“Let’s go. The Dark Lord will be displeased if we don’t arrive on time.” His voice had regained its even, calming quality from before, thank Merlin. “Stop gaping like a fish and hurry up, you fool. You’ll be the reason the Dark Lord punishes us.” He waited, his body still and silent, until he heard Barty leave, not moving an inch until the sound of footsteps had faded completely.
He inhaled deeply, forcing his eyes to become dry. He was a Rosier, a pureblood. He had been raised to put on masks, to act calm and collected. He was one of the most loyal Death Eaters to the Dark Lord, the most brutal, the most vicious. He was a Slytherin. He was Evan fucking Rosier. He knew better than this. He was better than this. Tears were for children, not grown men.
He pressed a palm to his eye, exhaling at the lack of wetness. Good. There was still hope for this night yet.
“Evan?”
Barty’s voice was much quieter than before, if not timid and tentative. Evan slid his hand down his face and turned to see his friend standing in the doorway, holding a pair of robes.
“I thought you might like these,” Barty said, almost shyly.
The robes were long, dark satin; one glance told Evan they were of high quality. Certainly not that Madam Malkin's rubbish, which meant it had to be imported from somewhere with rich, thriving clothing industries. Most likely France, if not the United States or China.
He’d never seen Barty wear it. Ever. For one, it wasn’t his style (satin and Barty? Not a good combination) and for another, Barty owned only one pair of dress robes. So where the hell had he gotten this one?
“These were my dad’s,” Barty explained. “I nicked them from his drawer the night I left. I was feeling petty, I guess. They always looked awful on him, but on you, it would look…I mean…” His voice trailed off. “I was saving them for a birthday present, y’know, gonna repolish it and shit, make it look better. It seems better than all those other shitty dress robes you have, anyway. But, uh, I figured now would be a better time, since you said…” He seemed to struggle for words for a moment. “That.”
“That,” repeated Evan, not quite registering the last part. He was still stuck on the fact that these- these beautiful robes- were supposed to be for him. “This is…my birthday present?”
“Was. Suppose I’ll just have to get another one for you? Maybe some hair products. You’re always going off about your hair.”
Evan walked one step, two steps, three steps until he stood right in front of Barty, nose to nose. He gently pried the robes out of the latter’s hands and ran his fingers over the smooth, silky fabric. Merlin. Evan could actually see himself wearing this. “I could kiss you right now,” he murmured.
Barty’s cheeks reddened- he spluttered for a moment, then recovered his voice..“Just hurry up and put those on. We’re already late.”
***
For the second time that night, Evan peered at his reflection, examining the way the robes hung over him. It actually hugged his figure quite well; he still looked fat (some things would never change, and to hope so would be too much) but it wasn’t as terrible as it was before.
In fact, Evan almost kind of liked it.
“Damn.”
He glanced over his shoulder; Barty had poked his head in, probably with the intent to yell at him to stop dawdling. Now, though, he just gaped, his mouth hanging open. Shameless. Evan felt his mouth twitch.
“It- It brings out your eyes,” Barty said, his voice hoarse. Evan didn’t miss the way the brunette’s gaze wandered far lower than it should have, or the way he licked his lips nervously. “Yeah, it- it looks good.” He cleared his throat. “You look- good. Great. Come on. Let’s go.”
Evan cocked his head to the side. He knew he should listen to Barty- they were half an hour late, for fuck’s sake- but he couldn’t help himself. “Not moderately less ugly than usual?”
Barty’s face colored. “Shut up,” he said gruffly, and turned away to leave, calling over his shoulder, “Hurry up or I’ll leave without you, I swear!”
Evan couldn’t stop the wide grin from crawling onto his face. With anyone else, he would’ve been disgusted with himself, but he just snatched his Death Eater mask from his bedside and hurried to catch up with Barty.
#rosekiller#evan x barty#barty x evan#barty crouch jr#bcj#barty jr#evan rosier#rosekiller fic#marauders#marauders era#marauders fandom#marauders fics#rosekiller fanfic#rosekiller fanfiction
52 notes
·
View notes
Note
hey, you have helped me s much with my book. so in my book currently the mc is a new empress and she attends this ball where royals and the elite meet to celebrate the coming of spring but there will be like friendly trails (competition) kingdoms would have to go through to win to build allyship. the thing is i have no idea what trails do you have like examples?
Story Ideas for Friendly Royal Competitions
Hey, thanks for liking my blog!
If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸
I've branched out into a few different themes (depends on which one you want to emphasize) for this Spring Networking Ball, so feel free to choose one & come back to me with further questions if you want me as a sounding board for your ideas.
+ I'm going to assume that magic exists, or at least is believed in. I've tried to make the ideas as friendly/fun as possible.
Competition for the "New" Empress
This is where the fact that your MC is a newbie ruler plays a factor in what games is played.
A Chance To Play a New Game. Once two kings/lords decide they'd hold hands, it is customary for the trade deal/military deal/general allyship to last for life. Now that the new empress is here, other rulers are hoping to win the favor of the MC.
-Each royal/elite will bring their national/family animal to be sacrificed in the holy fire which changes color when a sacrifice is burned. The empress just picks her favorite color.
-The new empress will bring along three Holy Children who'll make a gift of flower garlands to three lords. They would get a chance to sit at the empress's table first. How do you win over three innocent children?
-A masked ball where the new empress picks her first ally without knowing the true identity of the other. The new empress must be wise...but it turns out she picked her worst enemy after all.
A Husband For the New Queen. It is the universally accepted truth that a new empress must be in search of a husband. All eyes on the empress, who will win her heart (and her empire's favor)?
-A poetry competition (kinda like a medieval rap battle?) to please the new empress
-The empress will provide a keyword like "kindness" or "chivalry", and each lord will prepare an elevator pitch about their heroics to be shared at the table during the feast. Subtle stares and (un)friendly kicks below the banquet table.
Competition for "Allyship"
This is where the focus of the competition is the distribution of military and natural resources.
Annual Betting Table. Each king/lord must bet a particular amount of their resources (like 3000 kilos of sheep wool, etc.) to be traded off. A game is played, and the winner takes more.
-Can be a card game, like poker.
-The "gaming chips" are represented by flowers (e.g. one blue rose = 100 sheep, 1 red rose = 3 golds), and the lords and ladies exchange flowers throughout the festival. Lovesick lords giving their father's wealth away to their lovers; ladies trying to flatter and steal roses.
-If a lord/lady wants to win something over, they have to make a payment by dancing with the person who has it. How long will our empress last in her twelve-inch heels? What if she simply hates the lord who has what she wants?
Allyship Turnover. The Spring Ball is an annual event where all sorts of contracts (trade deals, borrowing of ports, arranged marriages) must be renewed; each year a new contract is formed.
-The spring festival basically becomes speed dating. The orchestra will play, and the lords move one seat to the right at every interim. You can drop out of a round by drinking a cup of strong mulberry ale. Drunk ladies ripping flowers out of each others hair?
-A game of human chess where each person plays the role of a chess piece.
Competition for the "Spring" Festival
This is where the theme of spring is emphasized.
The Spring Goddess Decides.
-The goddess of spring will express her divine wish by giving each person a tatto on their left forearm. They must find someone with a matching tattoo, or intentionally hide theirs and lie.
-The goddess will "bless" her favored lords and ladies for the year by crowning their head with flowers/turning their dress (like Cinderella). Everyone will try to form allies with these handful of Chosen Ones and spend the year preparing to win the goddess's favor.
A friendly 1-1 duel between lords (they either choose their opponent beforehand or the eldest gets to choose first or something) on a holy patch of ground. If a drop of sweat/blood falls on the ground, a flower will bloom. The one to make a flower bloom first loses.
Hope this helps
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───
💎If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram!
💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2
💎For early access to my content and priority questions, become a Writing Wizard
#writers and poets#writing#creative writing#writeblr#writers on tumblr#poets and writers#helping writers#let's write#creative writers#resources for writers#writing process#writing prompt#writing inspiration#writing advice#writing ideas#writer#on writing#writing community#writer stuff#writers block#writers life#writers community#writerscommunity#fiction#fantasy writing#writing ask#writing asks
34 notes
·
View notes
Note
It's longpost anon, here to drop another novel in your asks! (If this isn't welcome, just say so and I'll stop, no hard feelings!!)
All the Sanguinius content lately had me thinking about him having a daughter.
What spurred this on: I was grocery shopping this morning and there was a mom with her young daughter in front of me checking out. The kid would excitedly tell everyone "Nice to meet you!" when they walked past, and it was the most adorable thing ever. She was just so happy to see people and be out and about.
TMI but I'm at that point in my cycle where I was trying not to cry in public from the cuteness lol. (I've got baby fever, send help 😭) On the drive home, I started thinking about Sangy's daughter meeting all her uncles for the first time, and her trying to shake their giant hands with her tiny little ones and saying "Nice to meet you!" It would be so precious.
Then I started thinking about the mom being too kind for her own good, seeing Konrad lurking at the edge of the room alone and quietly asking him, "Do you want to meet your niece?"
It'd be like all the air got sucked out of the room. Sanguinius would just be tense as a board. Everyone is mentally screaming "Are you crazy?!" at her in their heads.
An aside: I've just read Konrad's primarch book, and while it shows why he is genuinely truly terrifying, there is also so many sad things.. Like how he doesn't hate any of his brothers (except Corax) despite them absolutely loathing him. Despite Fulgrim shattering his trust. Despite Sanguinius basically being the better alternate version of himself. I don't think the average person could be treated the way he was and not hate their family at least a little bit. I feel so badly for him.. I don't think he would hurt one of his brother's offspring pre-heresy. Maybe I'm just deluded though lol.
Anywho-
Everyone is just on edge, ready for Konrad to show even the most microscopic indication of aggression.. But he just kneels down, silently holds his hand out to the girl and she shakes his hand as best she can, giving him a cheery "Nice to meet you!" the same as she did for her other uncles. He just stands up, stares for a moment, and then silently leaves.. (He spends the next 72 hours trying to process the 12 different emotions he got blasted with in that moment.)
Also! Sangy's daughter being weirdly attached to one of the primarchs who is not particularly good at socializing with normies is really funny to picture. Like she gets SUPER hyped anytime she gets to see uncle Guilliman, and nobody knows why because he is honestly kinda boring to talk to. (It's because when she asks him a million questions about mundane things, he genuinely tries to answer every. single. one.)
Fulgrim trying to be the cool fun wine uncle but never being able to truly capture the kid's interest lmao. He's quietly seething like, why does she like paper-pushing Roboute?! (Fulgrim gets his time in the spotlight when she's a little older and gets super interested in art)
And the Blood Angels interacting with her would be so heartmeltingly sweet. Little mini Sanguinius asking for uppies from a captain because she wants to be Really Tall. He's just like, "It would be my honor." and hoists her onto his shoulder.
When the kid is still a toddler, the mom offhandedly asks her guard to hold her daughter for a second while she does something and just kinda shoves the squirmy toddler into his arms despite his protests. He's internally having a meltdown because he is so scared of hurting her accidentally and is still as a statue the entire time.
The first time the mom refers to them as the girl's brothers, there would be no going back. Like, "Wave to your brothers!" as they're both watching the Blood Angels train. If it was even possible for them to adore their 'sister' any more, it would happen in that moment.
This is all super fucking cute. Especially the stuff with Konrad. And you are somewhat right; we have to remember that as fucked as Konrad is, he was largely under the impression that he was doing justice and only killing those deserving of it. I doubt he would think Sanguinius’ child was evil, at least at first. He has no reason to hate his child afterall, he never hated any of the Primarchs ‘cept Corvus.
Funny note I first read this while really tired and my brain skipped lines, and at first I thought it was Konrad asking people if they wanted to see their niece XD like he had a secret child. 💀 I’m dumb
23 notes
·
View notes
Note
marc and reader breaking up bc of too many arguments and him being super sad
arguments / Marc Guiu / Part 2
Summary: Marc x female!reader - Marc is devastated because of the break up.
Warnings: implied depression, foul language, angst, mention of screaming, anxiety, mention of crying, angst, nausea
Requested?: Yeppers
Author's Note: Link to Part 1. There was another request that led up to this really nicely so I decided to just connect them as a part 1 & 2.
Marc Guiu stares up at the ceiling of his bedroom at two o'clock in the afternoon with the windows closed and the lights off, feeling like it's two o'clock in the morning.
You can't keep living like this, Marc. What's done is done. You said what you said. There's no way to fix it. Just move on.
But I can't.
I can't stop myself from loving her.
Pathetically enough- and Marc would admit in an instant that it is thoroughly pathetic- ever since that fateful day when she cut it off, his days have been a haze of football, sleeping, every so often forcing himself to eat and drink water, and doing what he's doing right now: letting the two sides of his thoughts argue with each other.
No one cares if you love her. She's done with you. You messed it up; it's your fault; oh well.
There's no way to fix it.
Just move on.
But no matter how much he tells himself, over and over, to just do that, it's like he can't.
It's like the picture of your lovely face is imprinted on the backs of his eyelids, so every time he blinks, every time he sleeps, you're there, looking like the angel you are, reminding him of how much he messed up.
"Ah!" he yells, tugging at his hair. "You idiot! You ruined it! Everything! She was the best thing that ever happened to you, and you fucking messed it up!
"You pathetic bastard! Get up and live your life! It's done! She's moved on and is probably happier than ever! Why are you letting her control you like this?"
On top of it all, he's been avoiding Gavi like the plague, knowing that you one hundred percent likely told him everything, all from your perspective, and knowing because of that, now Gavi probably hates his guts, too.
So, yeah. He's been avoiding Gavi and anyone close enough to him to have also heard. So Pedri is also off limits, and Ferran and João are iffy.
It's hard when he trains or plays with these guys nearly every day!
The only person he's told is Héctor, mostly just because he pried it out of Marc enough. He got annoying enough.
Ah, you idiot. Quit crying.
You're not going to let that girl ruin your life like this.
"Maybe he's not the only one who was in the wrong."
"What?" you ask, looking up at your best friend, Gavi. "What do you suppose I did wrong?" you ask, not too happy with this sudden statement from him.
Gavi shrugs. "I'm just saying, maybe you should've heard him out before it escalated so much. I don't know, though. What do I know?"
But you frown. "Probably nothing, but it still makes me think."
"Gee, thanks," he says, rolling his eyes.
"I honestly don't care, you know. It's fine. I don't want him back."
Gavi's lips purse as he says, "Then why do you bring him up every single conversation?"
You don't have an answer for this.
"Exactly," Gavi comments with a slight roll of the eyes. "Listen, I'm just saying- Marc isn't himself at all since you guys broke up. He's a shell of himself, and refuses to talk, honestly, anyone but Héctor, if he doesn't need to."
You frown. "I know, but..."
"All I'm saying is maybe he had a point."
"What does that mean?"
"It means if you're going to date someone, you've got to give stuff up for them. Including time and attention. And you were giving far more of that to me. I'm not saying you should get back with him; do what you want. But I am saying it's probably best to make amends, and not just let the last note of the symphony be screaming at each other, yeah?"
You lick your lips nervously. "I'll think about it."
Marc can see Héctor is staring at something behind his head, but before looking leans over to ask, "What is it?"
"Um," Héctor smiles nervously. "Y/n."
Immediately, Marc's eyes widen, reminding Héctor of a frightened rodent. "Please tell me you're joking."
Héctor gives a short shake of his head 'no.' "With Gavi and Pedri," he practically mouths.
Marc leans back, trying not to look easy to notice. Trying to look discreet. "Is it safer to leave or stay?"
"I reckon stay," Héctor responds.
Marc softly blows a raspberry, before looking down at his food. "My luck, I tell you," he murmurs.
"Sometime soon, you knew you'd run into her."
"I hoped not."
Héctor sighs. "I know."
Marc feels his anxiety rise when he watches you walk pass. Tossing your hair, with the sway in your step, confidence radiating off you.
He sinks his head down lower, nervously curling his napkin.
And then, as you're walking back, it's like something else takes control of his body, and he can't help himself but look up at you.
Your eyes meet.
Yours widen for a moment, and your steps begin to slow.
Marc is suddenly hit with a wave of nausea, and he says suddenly, "Héctor, let's get going now."
And you watch Marc and Héctor walk out, away from you, just like that.
But there was something strange in Marc's eyes.
Sorrow.
Loneliness.
Confusion.
Defeat.
But most of all, regret and guilt.
And seeing him like that makes you feel... strange.
You're not sure if you like it.
Shadows, passing in the night. Wind, come and gone. These mysterious concepts. A lonely boy and a confused girl.
Hands in his pockets, head down. It's become the natural stance for him. His hair has grown out and shadows his inky brown eyes. So many emotions that they're gone.
Imploded.
She holds her head up and flips her hair. Sharp tongue, quick remarks. Little glimmer when she winks. Confidence is key, but there's one thing that nags at her.
She wonders if it was all a mistake.
Their eyes meet on a dark street in the middle of a cool night, when neither of them should be out.
They both open their mouths to speak, but sound comes out of neither of them.
He reaches his hand out to her.
If he could fall into her arms, he would.
But the shadows shift, and she's gone. The wind carries her away. Like a secret not meant for his ears. Like a promise broken. Like glass that shattered but never made a sound.
Never hit the ground.
On a concrete wall, the side of a building, he writes with a Sharpie:
I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I still love you.
I need you to come back to me.
On a bathroom mirror, she writes in blood red lipstick:
Why can't I forgive him? Why can't I let him forgive me?
Why can't I let myself love him?
#sports-on-sundays#fcb#fc barca#fc barcelona#fc barça#barcelona one shot#barcelona fc#barça#barcelona#barca#barcelona imagine#barcelona fanfic#barcelona spain#barcelona imagines#barcelona one shots#barcelona oneshot#barcelona oneshots#barcelona blurb#barcelona blurbs#barcelona fic#barcelona fics#barcelona fan fic#la liga#football#soccer#barcelona fan fics#spain#laliga#barcelona fanfics#barcelona fan fiction
27 notes
·
View notes
Note
Giving dead inside trio (nanu, cyrus, larry) a bouquet of flowers? They deserve some softness in their lives 🥺
dead inside trio.... a new grouping unlocked lol
cw: fluff,
characters: Nanu, Cyrus, Larry
🐈⬛️Nanu❤️🩹
🌑 The old man did not seem particularly fond of most things in life. Few things broke that trained expression into anything apart from a passive disinterest. Yet, you felt something in you desperate to see that half grin cross his face again. A certain shop in the Malie Community Centre. Flowers. Alola had many, sure. Entire meadows dedicated to them. The red flowers of the Ula'Ula meadow brought the eyes of the Kahuna to mind. The man selling the flowers eagerly beckoned you over and explained the meanings of each bouquet. A bright white flower caught your attention. The man quickly offered information. Forest gardenias. Apparently, the generic meaning for all white gardenias were innocence, purity, and clarity. Their most common use was in weddings. You giggled. Nanu... He certainly was none of those things, yet the flowers held your attention over the others for sale. You bought them.
🌑 Nanu yawned. Nothing was happening today. Just like yesterday. And the day before that. And so on and so forth. It had been peaceful. This was much preferred to the nightmare that had been the Necrozma situation. That Guzzlord. He sighed. His Meowths napped peacefully. He debated joining them, yet the door clicking open prevented that. You stepped in, clutching something behind your back. A brow cocked up. His mind instantly had some worries about the oddity, but he forced them down. You were no threat. Walking towards him, you held a bouquet of flowers out to him. He blinked. These… He had seen these before. His fingers brushed against the soft petals. Right… These were. Forest gardenias. Or, known colloquially as – “Nanu,” you called out to him, “Do you like them? The florist said he was trying to spread awareness about endangered flowers through bouquets.”
🌑 He hated that his lips tugged up at that. Right, these were also known as nānū. Why his parents had thought to name him after such a thing was beyond him. Nanu seemed to go to defy literally every meaning they had. “… Yep, picking these in the wild gets you a high fine,” he nodded and sat them down in his lap. “Thanks,” he tugged you down to his level. You sat down beside him. His arm came around your shoulders. “… I like it,” Nanu could feel your eyes staring at him and wanting to know, “I'm not much of a flower guy, but I guess I serve an agriculture deity so maybe I need to change.” You laughed. Tapu Bulu would love to see Nanu have a sudden interest in the beauty of nature, certainly. Nanu carefully placed the bouquet in a vase later on. The flowers really did brighter up the dreary police station he called a home. And, well, they were a good reminder of something important to him. He gave another grin at you playing with a Meowth.
🌌Cyrus🛰
☄️ The blue-haired man was unreadable most of the time. Even having been in a relationship with Cyrus for an extended period of time, you struggled to understand him rather frequently. Gifts were difficult. He would say that he required nothing when questioned. You did not feel that way, though. So, you found yourself in the Veilstone department store searching desperately for anything that the man might enjoy. Nothing caught your attention. You drifted to the roof. What was supposed to be a moment to relax in solemn defeat was destroyed by a rooftop vendor. Bouquets. A bright one caught your attention. The flowers faced the sun with unyielding loyalty. The choice was obvious. You bought the bouquet with little question.
☄️ The Galactic Boss felt as though he was drowning in work. Everything was a mess, and a free moment was simply a blessing that he did not have. An accident had resulted in the deletion of some important research of his goals, and the entire time was scrambling to either recover or replace it. He felt like he was about to go mad. Then, the receptionist foolishly allowed someone in to visit him. He would give them a piece of his mind for visiting at such a critical moment. The door to his office clicked open. Cyrus stilled. You entered, holding a vase in your hands. A bright smile was on your face. “Cy,” you called out excitedly, “I brought you a gift! You seemed so upset lately that I wanted to cheer you up.” The bouquet of flowers was offered to him.
☄️ Sunflowers… He flinched as they seemed to turn towards him. Logically, it was because there was a bright light behind him, but he felt momentarily bewildered. The dark stigmas of the flora appeared to stare into his very being. He swallowed. Good fortune, he recalled a possible meaning of the flower. Yes, that was precisely what he needed. He sat them down on his desk. Taking your hand, Cyrus met your eyes. Whatever rage had previously consumed him was gone. He could never be angry at you. “Thank you, beloved,” he leaned in to peck your cheek chastely, “I apologise if my behaviour has seemed off. Work has simply been stressful.” The man wished to dismiss all your worries and have you uninvolved again. Later, after you had left, he glanced at the flowers again. Adoration… He recalled another meaning of sunflowers. His stressed mind relaxed. This was for you, too, he reminded himself. His hands tapped away at the computer. This would all be finished soon.
💼Larry🏢
🍙 The salaryman had little joy in his life except for food. Few things could bring him joy as much as food could, but you wished to challenge that. Larry was an overworked and under-appreciated member of his workplace. You, as his lover, wished to show him that it was the opposite case at home. So, you sought a gift. Something food related had seemed obvious at first, but you had backed away from that line of thought. No, you wished to give him something else. A street vendor in Medali caught your eye as you wandered around in search. A bouquet vendor. The woman smiled brightly as you moved closer to gaze at her options. They were pre-made only, naturally, but the styles varied and showed off the talent of the woman. A white bouquet was what captured your attention. Small breaks of a bright blue flower felt strangely attractive. You bought it without hesitation. Roses and forget-me-nots.
🍙 Larry lounged around lazily. Take-out from the Treasure Eatery sat on the coffee table while the television played some boring midday talk show. He truly did not care too much about whatever was being covered. Background noise was simply required. His Straptor perched near the food, tilting its head curiously at the dish. Before the bird could dare steal some rice for itself, the apartment door opened. You soon wandered in the living room with a delicately wrapped item in your hands. Larry's exhausted mind slowly realised that you had flowers. Then he rose up, a bit panicked. Had someone gifted you those? “I got you a gift,” you shook your head, as if understanding his thoughts, “The colours made me think of your suit and tie combination.” He blinked and took the flowers from your hands. White and blue…
🍙 “I guess so,” Larry nodded. He was not too familiar with flower meanings, but he thought it quite looked like a wedding bouquet, almost. The little blue flowers, his thumb brushed over them, had Brassius been going on about them at some point? The grass-type gym leader was quite knowledgeable about flowers alongside his art. Many sculptures he did contained floral themes. Loyalty…? No… What was it? “Love,” he nodded, “I see. I love you, too.” The words had become easier to say over the course of his relationship. You smiled brightly. He let his lips tug upwards for just a moment. A quick kiss was pressed to your lips as he moved to sit the flowers on an end table. They certainly brightened up the dreary room. Staraptor suddenly let out a chirp and flew over to them. It seemed the bird liked your gift, too.
#pokemon x reader#nanu x reader#cyrus x reader#larry x reader#pokemon/reader#pokemon nanu x reader#pokemon larry x reader#pokemon cyrus x reader#nanu/reader#larry/reader#cyrus/reader
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mine
Jay White X Fem Reader requested by: @switchbabeeexo
Jay White Masterlist Main Masterlist (word count 1,200)
Summary: Ever since Jay joined the AEW roster he has gained the attention of the female talent. The girls backstage are drawn to his foreign accent and mysterious personality. It doesn’t matter how many times Jay tells you he’s not interested in those girls you still find yourself growing insecure. What happens when the voices get too loud and you need that extra reassurance?
I was well aware of all the new attention Jay would get once he joined AEW so why was I so shocked when the women backstage threw themselves at him? This wasn’t something new, in fact, it happened all the time in Japan. The difference was the girls here were different, they were special, they were gorgeous. I watched every week as different women tried to flirt with Jay, they were practically foaming at the mouth. “Oh my gawddd, your accent is so hotttt” many of them would say as they leaned on his shoulder. You could tell that Jay coudn’t give a fuck about these girls, he never fed into their fantasies. Instead, he would brush every comment off like it was nothing. He knew I hated it, he found it amusing how much I cared about the comments when he didn’t.
I sat at catering staring daggers at Jay and Harley Cameron, she was attempting to flirt with him. Her hand was on his chest as her breasts fell out of her top. Jay on the other hand was completely ignoring her. Just then Jay and I made eye contact. He could see the anger in my eyes and was quick to excuse himself from Harley. “You know I wasn’t even paying attention to her right?” he told me. “I don’t even like any of these women” He knew I was mad and wound’t forgive him that easily. “Y/n I’m sorry, you know I love you” “Why is it that I can’t even talk to Will Ospeary without you wanting to kill someone when you get to flirt with the female talent” I asked him. “That’s different-” “No it’s not!” “Will is in love with you, he wants to fuck you” “Don’t you think those girls want that too. Look at Harley over there, she was just eye fucking you” “Come on Y/n, you’re being ridiculous” “No, I’m done” I yelled before walking out of the building. “Don’t worry JayJay, you can sleep in my bed tonight” Harley said to Jay. “Fuck off” Jay spat back.
On my way out of the arena, I ran into no other than Will. “What’s wrong love? Did the switchblade finally cut you?” he asked. “I don’t want to talk about it” I told him, trying to leave as fast as I could. “Are you sure, you look like you’re about to cry” he told me sincerely. Next thing I knew I was in his hotel room in tears as he held me. “I can’t believe someone would say something like that. That’s complete bullshit” Will told me “What did Jay say when you told him?” “He said I was overreacting” “I’m really sorry Y/n, you didn’t deserve that” I don’t know how or why I was venting to Will but it felt good that someone was finally listening to me. I couldn't stop thinking about what I overheard a week prior to this mess. I had heard the other girls talking shit about me and when I told Jay about it he just brushed it off like it was nothing. The conversation was between Harley and Saraya. “I can’t believe Jay is still with her. You would think once he made it he would get rid of her” Harley said “Like I get they have been together for a long time and everything but let’s just face it, he could do better” she continued “I don’t even know what it is that he sees in her? She’s not pretty, she’s boring, there is nothing special about her. There are so many other people out there, look at all the models that want him and yet he’s still with her” I was trying not to cry as I heard Harley’s words. Sure they hurt but who she was talking to hurt more. One of my best friends Saraya stood next to her, listening to the conversation. “Once you get to know her, Y/n is really nice Harley. You don’t even know her!” I listened as Saraya defended me but that didn’t take away from the hurtful words.
Once I left Will’s room I returned to my own hotel room. All I wanted to do was have a hot shower. I opened the door expecting to be alone since Dynamite was on the air but to my surprise, Jay was waiting for me. “Where were you?” he asked calmly “Does it matter where I was?” I asked him “You were with him weren’t you?” “Maybe I was, maybe I wasn’t. Why should you care, at least Will cares about me?” I could see the pain in his eyes “I do care about you Y/n, I love you. I’m sorry about earlier, I really am” I knew he was sincere but I still wasn’t convinced he was sorry. “Do you know how gorgeous you are? You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen” he told me “I don’t care what those other girls think, you are the only person I need. You’re not boring Y/n, they are just jealous of you. Jealous of how naturally perfect you are. Look at the girls that flirt with me, they are all fake, they are not real. Fake tits, fake lips, fake everything. They are so ugly both inside and out that they need to do all of these things to at least have a chance against you. You have perfect plump lips that I love to kiss and bite. I would be scared Harley’s filler would explode if I did that to her. Your chest is warm and soft, those girls have fucken hard boulders in their tops” I couldn't help the laugh I let out at his comments. “It’s true! You are just perfect, I love every single thing about you. All of your ‘imperfections’ are perfections.” I didn’t even realize I was crying until Jay wiped away my tears and held me close. “I know, I know baby, I’m sorry” Jay and I stayed like that for a while, in each other’s loving embrace before sharing a hot shower.
I let the hot water burn my skin as Jay rubbed bubbles all over my body. “I don’t think you understand how obsessed with you I am. I love every single part of you Y/n” Jay told me as he began placing kisses all over my body. “This scar you claim to hate, love it,” he said as he kissed the deep scar on my side “Your hip dips, love them, stretch marks, love them, your beauty marks, obsessed” Every single ‘flaw’ I had pointed out over the years Jay told me he loved, kissing every single one lovingly. “You know how much I love you when I’m on my knees for you Y/n,” Jay told me, his eyes now dark. “Do you forgive me?” he asked “Yes, I’m sorry Jay. I love you too” “No, I’m sorry Y/n. I hope this will make it up to you”
#bullet clubs bitch#all elite wrestling#aew smut#aew#aew fanfiction#jay white imagine#Jay White#jay white aew#jay white bang bang gang#jay white bullet club gold#jay white bullet club#jay white dynamite#jay white fic#jay white fanfic#jay white fanfiction#jay white gif#jay white headcannons#jay white njpw#jay white one shot#jay white smut#jay white x reader#Jay White x fem reader#Switchblade Jay White#Switchblade Jay White x reader#switchblade era#breathe with the switchblade#king switch#the catalyst#bullet club gold#njpw fic
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Arcana M6 When MC Is Crunchy
For context, MC can crack every joint in their body (knuckles, back, knees, hips, the whole shebang) and one day they just get on all fours before twisting and bending and making this horrific cracking crunching bone noise right in front of their terrified LI
(This is extremely self servient)
Asra
In all fairness, they already knew. Does that mean they're used to it? It's complicated
You were gone for a long enough time that he forgot what it was like to live with a human sheet of bubble wrap
The first time he heard your crunching after they brought you back, happy tears flooded his eyes, because it was such a you thing, if that makes sense
They're a little sad they can't do it too, though
Of all the LIs, he's absolutely the least disturbed, and at the end of the day, he thinks it's pretty sick
Nadia
Oh dear. That's not right
More concerned than anything, immediately takes you to the court physician to figure out just what's wrong with you
You will be rushed there as quickly as possible before you even realize what's wrong or have the opportunity to say anything
When you gently explain to her that you're just built a little strangely she'll just sit there and stare at you, dumbfounded
Then she'll throw her head back and let out a relieved, hearty laugh
You see a shiver go up her spine every time you do the crunch ritual though (she's trying really hard to be supportive)
Julian
Holy shit. Him too.
Imagine all the mischief you two could get up to! Crawling out from beneath the bar tables and scaring the shit out of everyone in the joint (pun intended) with your full-body crunches? If you're down he's down is all he's saying–
He's mostly sure that it's not bad for you or anything. Probably. Actually he never really cared to check, seeing as he's lacking a little in the self-care department
Mazelinka can sense when it's about to happen and gives you the most soul devouring glare whenever either of you is about to crunch
Portia
She's devastated.
Growing up, Julian could always do that, and you know what? She was always really jealous. She cannot physically pop one joint in her whole entire being
And she hates it with a passion
She doesn't hate you, of course... but she will work until she inevitably burns out trying to distract herself from you and her brother's shared ability
She comes home one day, declaring that she's come to terms with not being able to do it as well, but she is glad that you and Julian have something in common. You're glad she's happy, even though it's been three weeks since the crackening
This will make for great teasing material in the future if you're willing to utilize it
Muriel
He does posess the ability to crack his knuckles and neck, but anything beyond that is a little much
The first time he saw/heard your full body crunches it was on the trip with Morga, who stood next to him, watching in morbid fascination
His right hand flew up over his mouth and he started towards you like he thought he should help, before stepping back. He realized he has no idea how to help you and waited it out in horror
Now the joint cracking just puts the fear of god into him a little bit
He has SO many questions (he'll never ask but he definitely has them)
He still loves and accepts you, no matter what quirks or flaws you have (but seriously though what the heck)
Lucio
MC what are you doing...?
OH GOD.
He hates it. The sound makes his skin crawl and he thinks there's something wrong with you, no matter how many times you explain to him that you're okay
...but he's not going to give up on you. He goes to dozens of "medical professionals" to try and find some sort of miracle cure to fix you (your poor wallet lol)
Still brags about it to random people for no reason, even though he seriously, genuinely, honestly, truly DESPISES the crunch
Morga thinks it's great
Btw just thought I should clarify, these full body joint crunches are genuinely horrific, which is why the M6 had such strong reactions 😭😭
Imagine bending into horrible knotted shapes while the loudest most eardrum shattering crunches come from you, for an extended period of time if that helps 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
chapter IV | infidus
summary: "You're off this case."
"You can't do that," Spencer said, almost pleading. "I was right!"
"You were jealous," Hotch said with a sigh of irritation. "You might have been right but your whole body language inside that room was telling. I don't want to know how you two met or how you kept in contact." Even if he already had that answer through Iris a few minutes ago. "You are off this case, Reid. Do you hear me?"
w.c: 2.5K
warnings/contents: petty arguments; interrogation; mentions of anxiety; bruises; implied domestic abuse and violence; non-graphic violence; descriptions of stalking behavior; mentions of blood and threatening messages; iris having one brain cell & a fierce best friend.
A/N: last chapter focused solely on the investigation.
navi
masterpost
series masterlist
whoever wants to be added to the taglist, dm me or fill this out.
LETTERS — [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9]
CHAPTERS — [1] [2] [3] [4] . . .
❝Infidus❞
[adj.] unsafe; not to be trusted.
Emily's gaze shifted from Iris to Imogen as something akin to understanding reached her eyes. Iris snapped out of her anxious state to take a step back as if to shelter herself.
“I didn't ask for one.” She revealed, locking eyes with Imogen for the first time in a year. She hadn't seen her since Mark's family tried to buy off her silence and she refused. The last thing she needed was his family's help again, given that their son was responsible for the scar in her jaw she has to stare every time she looked in the mirror.
Iris wanted to be very far from Mark's family as possible and from him, but since she wasn't able to to the latter, she would take the former.
"You don't have to say anything, Iris. They can't hold you against your will without any evidence-"
"They don't have evidence against me because I didn't do anything!" Iris cut her off with a glare. She couldn't prevent her rage from slipping through her tongue. "And what are you doing here? Did he send you?"
Imogen seemed dumbstruck by Iris's reaction, probably due to the old image she had of her being naïve and believing every word she said, when the only thing she cared about was to shut her up to not ruin the Dawson's privileged name. Iris hadn't eat anything since last night, she was starving and thirsty and dirty. She was exhausted. She could very much throw every shit Mark has done to her out in the open because the FBI would hear her, right? But this wasn't about her, this was about Fabian and Meredith, and she would do anything to get them to safety if there was even a possibility. She just wanted to find them.
"Get out of here," Iris ordered, crossing her arms over her chest, exhaling slowly. "I did not ask for a lawyer."
Imogen took a step towards her, but was stopped by Agent Prentiss, who earned a glare. "You're making a mistake, Iris. I came here to help you, they will try to pin this on you-"
"You're not worried about me and tell your brother to leave me alone or I won't keep my mouth shut as I did before." That was the cue for Imogen to leave.
"Iris."
She didn't realise she had been staring at the chair ever since Imogen left. She glanced up at warm honey brown eyes that had a soft green glow around them. It looked almost like a forest bathed in sunlight.
"You're shaking." He pointed out.
Iris blinked away from her stare, bringing her hands to her chest in an attempt to stop them from shaking. She looked pathetic. She felt pathetic.
"Sorry, I don't particularly enjoy confrontation." She hated it.
"Is that Mark Dawson's sister?" Emily interrupted their conversation.
Iris nodded, fidgeting with the collar of her blouse. "Yes," she uttered, scratching her wrist. Spencer observed the movement as a nervous tell. She would get uncomfortable every time they mentioned her ex fiancee. “I'm sorry but, I told you everything I know. I'm tired, can I just— can I just go?”
“Let me ask you one last thing and you're free to go.” Emily opened the manila folder with the image of Iris's door where it was written in crimson red YOU ARE ALL I WANT. Iris turned away from the picture with a frown. “Do you have any idea who might had left you this message?”
“I thought you said Fabian did it.”
“We had reasons to believe that before, yes. But who do you think wrote this?”
Iris stayed silent, eyes shifting back to the image.
“You've received threatening messages before. Though they were different and not very... explicit. Isn't that true?”
“Those were pranks.” Iris dismissed her affirmation. “Someone found out my number, probably even one of my students, and pranked me. They weren't exactly threatening. . .”
Emily grabbed another file and started reading it out loud. Spencer leaned back on the chair, his lips twitching in slight annoyance.
“I'm the only one who will ever be able to love you the way you deserve.” She followed to the next one. “I love you and I have you, even if you are playing hard to get—”
“Stop.” Iris rubbed her hands across her face, shaking her head. “I told you, those were pranks—”
“Are you sure about that, Iris?”
“I don't know!”
“Do you think Fabian Helley wrote that message at your door?”
“No!” Iris snapped. “I don't think he did that and I don't think he sent the other ones either because he wasn't the one obsessed with me. He wasn't the one watching my every step and he wasn't the one responsible for making me scared to go back home after work because I could be cornered if I was alone!” She let out in one breathe, inhaling sharpy as she carried on. “Fabian was my student, the only reason he spent so much time on my lab studying was because that was the only safe place he had outside my classroom. He was bullied by at least half of the people who were in the cafeteria the day the mass poisoning happened. He was not obsessed with me. He didn't send the texts.” She took a deep breath to pull herself together.
Spencer watched in sympathy how relieved she felt that she said that, even if with so much pressure.
“But you do think they caused the mass poisoning.” His voice rang through the room for the first time in a while. It was an affirmation because he could read between the lines of he was bullied by half of the people who were in the cafeteria.
Iris started scratching her wrist again, “I don't want to accuse anybody without proof.”
Emily placed a hand on Spencer's shoulder, and she offered him a look he was able to decipher as she muttered something along the lines being needed outside and that she would be right back.
She wouldn't. Upon concluding Iris was actually comfortable around Spencer and not around her, the smartest thing to do would let him conduct the interview.
“It's just a question. Not an accusation.” His eyes traced Iris's abused skin and he saw she stopped scratching when Emily left the room. His eyes squinted on the area now uncovered by her hand, it wasn't just pink because of her nails, but there was a purple bruise encircling her wrist. He didn't see that before.
Iris dark brown eyes stared into Spencer's as she debated wether or not it would be good to tell him.
She trusted him.
“He, mhm... Fabian came in to my lab one day, before he fell sick, and told me to not come in to NSU in the 27th.”
Spencer nodded, he remembered she told him this in one of their latest letters.
“You found it weird.”
Iris nodded, “yeah, it was late at night. He wasn't even supposed to be there. But he didn't stay, he said this and left.”
“Do you think he was trying to protect you?”
“Maybe. I told you— I mean, I wrote to you that I thought I was being paranoid.” She sounded extremely guilty and helpless. “I should have listened to my gut, shouldn't I?”
He lowered his head so her gaze could meet his. “You couldn't have known. He didn't tell you what he was planning. There was no way you could have stopped this. It's not your fault.”
“Is that really what you think? Or are you just saying that because you were trained to and you want me to tell you more?”
Spencer blinked, stunned. “Iris, I believe you.”
She scoffed, eyes welling up in tears as she beat herself up inside. “You don't even know me. You know my handwriting and my favourite books but you don't even know me, Spencer. Why would you believe me?”
“Reid.”
He jerked his head in the direction of the door, cutting his speech short as his boss called him outside the room.
Hotch's tone was stern, demanding but Spencer couldn't bring himself to leave without knowing the truth.
“Did he do that?” He eyed the bruise on her wrist and Iris gave him a confused glance before her eyes followed his gaze and she immediately retracted her arm to her lap, lowering her sleeve as her cheeks turned pink in shame.
“I fell.” She blamed her tiredness for not being able to find a better excuse.
"I didn't said a name but you already knew who I was talking about."
Iris's lips parted in astonishment. Spencer's eyes softened.
"Iris, he's toying with you. Mark's a narcissistic man who seeks power and control any chance he gets. He thinks that because he has power and money, he can get away with what he did to you and the other girls—"
"What other girls?" Iris's breathing fails. "What are you talking about, Spencer?"
Hotch walked inside the room with heavy steps, not even batting an eye at her. “Reid. Outside. Now.”
Spencer kept his eyes on Iris for a moment, jaw-clenching but she somehow knew he wasn't frustrated at her but at whatever lecture he was about to receive from his boss. He stood up, the chair screeched against the floor causing Iris to wince and stormed out of the interrogation room with Aaron Hotchner on his trail.
━━━━━━━━━
“Do you have any idea of what the implications of your actions can do to this case?”
“She didn't do anything. There is no reason for her to be interrogated like she's the culprit when we both know who should be in there."
Then, Hotch made Reid glare at him at his next statement.
"You're letting your emotions cloud your judgement."
Spencer huffed in annoyance, "that is not what I am doing, Hotch. I'm just following my gut."
"Well, you can't just follow your gut when someone you care about is at other side of that room, Reid." Hotch snapped, clearly out of patience with what had happened and for the fact that his Agent omitted knowing their former suspect in the current case. "You're off this case."
"You can't do that," Spencer said, almost pleading. "I was right!"
"You were jealous," Hotch said with a sigh of irritation. "You might have been right but your whole body language inside that room was telling. I don't want to know how you two met or how you kept in contact." Even if he already had that answer by Iris a few minutes ago. "You are off this case, Reid. Do you hear me?"
Spencer's irritation showed through his tense shoulders and the scowl he had on his face. He mumbled a low fine and walked away from his Unit Chief.
"Aaron."
He tilted his head to see Dave approaching with his lips turned upside down. He most definitely had seen the small commotion in the hallway.
"He'll be fine." Rossi squeezed his shoulder in a comforting manner. "Now, we need to let the poor girl go home. She's been here the whole night. I'm afraid she will combust in anxiety inside that room at any moment."
Hotch rolled his shoulders back in an attempt to get rid of the tenseness, "I know." David was right. They had no reason to hold Iris because there was no evidence against her. They had, however, evidence against her ex fiancee, which was why they tried to get something out of her. They would have to work with that they had as of now.
━━━━━━━━━
Iris didn't had any nails left in her fingers to bite on. The current victim was the dry skin of her lips. She had drink water, but it wasn't enough for her chapped lips, she would probably down a whole gallon of water as she arrived home.
"Red looks good on you."
Emily Prentiss looked up from the message in her phone that said "Did she actually fell asleep?". Iris had her eyes closed, head tiled to the side as she rested her head against her upper arm. She looked like she was sleeping, but apparently not.
And what had she just said?
"You know, because of your skin and your hair. It's a good contrast. It looks attractive. It's an attractive color on you."
Emily blinked as the woman said all of that with her eyes closed.
"Thanks?"
Iris winced, aware of her bold comment. She couldn't stop her mouth from spilling out her thoughts, she didn't hold back her tongue when she was in distress. It was like she was inebriated.
"Sorry," she apologized, glancing up at Emily with a grimace and straightening herself in the uncomfortable chair. "That was inapropriate."
Emily covered up a laugh by clearing her throat. "It's fine."
Another message from JJ arrived and Emily rolled her eyes at the text. "Is she flirting with you???"
"Could I have a phone call?" Iris remembered that was a thing in movies, though she wasn't arrested, she could still call someone, right? It's not like she had a way to get back home, she didn't have her car and she didn't want to grab a cab with the miserable state she was in. She would have to bother Lindsey with this, unfortunely.
Before Emily could reply, Hotch and Rossi stepped inside the room to announce Iris was free to go. Iris seemed in search for someone else as she tried looking past their shoulders, as if they were about to enter the room. They didn't, but she let out a breath of relief and walked out to be met with her best friend sprinting towards her in a bone crushing hug.
"You spent the night here and don't even call me?" Lindsey fussed over her, grabbing her face and studying it to see if it had any injuries, if she was truly okay. "Did you even had any probable cause to hold her overnight, Agent Hotchner?" Her usual bright blue eyes became a stormy dark night as she stared up at the man who was at least 6 feet tall, but she didn't let herself be intimidated by any figure of authority, no matter how tall they were and how grumpy they look. "You're aware I could sue you for this?"
"Oh, god, Lind—" Iris pulled at the blonde's arm with a mortified look in her face. She turned back to mumble an apology to the FBI Agents. She saw Emily's smirk of amusement before turning back to her enraged best friend. "I'm sorry and thank you!"
"Why are you thanking them? They held you in a cell for an entire night like some criminal—"
"I wasn't in a cell!" Iris hissed, finally being successful in dragging her outside the police station with no apparent deaths.
Inside the precinct, Emily couldn't stop laughing.
"Who was that?" JJ got off the phone with Penelope, dumbstruck at the commotion that attracted everyone's attention.
"I don't know," Emily shook her head, drying the tears in her eyes. "But I need to find out."
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
taglist: @lilyviolets ; @chayceschultz ; @cultish-corner ; @lover-of-books-and-tea ; @theonecalledrue
#sun-bleached paper petals fic#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid x oc#spencer reid x iris valencia#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic
23 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
seanem0nii
ross' coral reef
myphamlyn
Untitled
verdantvain
VerdantVain
thietbidienmang
Công ty HAHUCO
bloodworthbellamy
BLOODWORTH BELLAMY