#sorry if I fucked up the lean I'm not very good at it >﹏<
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Fix You - Chapter 16 - Genesis
Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader
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Read on A03
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Chapter Summary: 🤷♀️
Word Count: 4K
Rating: Explicit
Chapter Warnings: cussing, graphic violence, mentions of sex. I'm not giving more warnings than that, sorry.
A/N: Hey all. First I want to say I'm sorry. I literally had no time or motivation to write this. I'm gonna be honest, this is a really tough chapter, and it was hard to get in this headspace. Suffering a recent heartbreak, things in this chapter are things I have thought also, and so it was really hard for me to voluntarily want to address that. I also started working in veterinary medicine, i do not have the spare time that I used to. We also recently adopted a puppy who we named Bucky! And if you read my earlier posts, you know that I was SA'd last January. All that to say, sorry I couldn't do this faster.
Also want to wish a happy birthday to @musings-of-a-rose, my beloved, my bestie, and my constant support. This is for you. Sorry it's not a happier chapter....
* If a character is speaking fully in Spanish, I will put “[ ]” around the dialogue. I speak pretty decent Spanish but not good enough for this
Suggested Songs: "Exile" Taylor Swift feat. Bon Iver, "I Love You" Billie Eilish, "Vampire" and "Logical" by Olivia Rodrigo, "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron and Phoebe Bridgers, "Genesis" by Grimes
You didn’t even flinch at the landing, which was rough, so that’s saying a lot. When the janky cargo door (which looked like at any time during the flight would be ripped right off) opens, you barely even lift your eyes from the floor. You felt heavy and hollow, somewhere suspended in between shock and just not giving a fuck anymore. The only thing you could still fell was the pinching in your heart. It was still broken.
At some point during the journey, the co-pilot had taken pity on you and untied your arms from behind your back and bound them in front of you instead. You hadn’t struggled. There was no point. Where would you go? Jump in the ocean? You weren’t that great of a swimmer and you loved sharks and everything but the open ocean is not where you are supposed to be.
You have no sense of space and time, so you have no actual clue where you are other than not the mainland. You’re dehydrated as fuck, groggy, your vision’s blurry and you’d figured out the sticky moisture on your face was your own blood.
Because when you had suddenly blacked out it was because they’d hit you, and had absolutely no hesitation doing so. They did not care about you, they did not see you as a human being, they didn’t even bother strapping you into a seat so you had been sliding around the cargo bay the entire flight, bumping into everything. You were in deep danger, any hope that you would have some ransom protection had pretty much disintegrated. You had hoped that the boys wouldn’t come for you at first. Then you had hoped that they would, because if you’re ransom, even if at the very least you’d be alive until then, right? But “alive” doesn’t mean unharmed.
A shadow looms over you and it finally makes you look up, squinting to adjust your eyes to something so close, as well as the brightness of the sun. It feels like it takes you 10 whole minutes to process that you were being spoken to in English.
“Eh!” The man leaning over you snips, and when you simply blink in confusion and don’t answer, he slaps you lightly on both cheeks. You’re stunned enough to finally look at him, his oval face, beady eyes and unique sideburns seeming so familiar to you but quite frankly you wouldn’t trust yourself with recognizing even your dad at the moment, so you push that thought aside.
He kneels down in front of you. “You listen to me. We don’t want you. We want the money. This means if you don’t fucking piss me off, I might be nice and not kill you, you understand? Be a smart little girl, eh?.”
You nod, you probably should be feeling some sort of panic setting in but you don’t. Whatever. Who even cares anymore.
He takes your silence as submission. “Bueno.” He whispers, leaning down and grabbing you by the arm, lifting you until you are back on your feet. He tilts his head and steps to the side, revealing 5 additional men with AKs pointed straight at you. From behind, you feel the sharp tip of another poking your back, urging you forward and down the precarious ramp. The pilots.
You didn’t trust that they wouldn’t hurt you, but you knew you had no other choice. Trying to fight was asking for it, and once you step out of the hold and realize you were in the fucking jungle, there would be no sensical place to go even if you did get away.
You step out of the plane onto a rickety steel ramp that bounces as the footpad of your sandals touches it and shuffle slowly down it. You feel suffocated sandwiched between four men, your hands chafe where they are tied and you have been in the same positions for so long your whole body is sore. Every touch and movement hurt.
You stumble as the ramp ends but one of the men grabs your arm and yanks you so you don’t fall. It wasn’t kindness. It was a way to hurt you that he could get away with. The tiny dirt landing strip is almost canopied completely by the jungle trees, leaving large patches here and there where the plane flew through, not noticeable from far above. It looks like you’re walking to nothing, just a dirt road that ends right into the thick middle of the jungle, but you don’t stop at the edge. You push through.
It’s hot as shit and you felt sweat buildup in every crevice of your body, your thighs are rubbing raw from your asinine decision to wear short shorts to the fair, and you could feel a heat rash growing under your tits that you couldn’t even scratch because your hands are bound.
You walk for forever. You walk until the friction rash on your inner thighs turn to lesions. You haven't drank water in almost 48 hours and it feels like 150 degrees out, with full humidity. You’ve had to stop twice already to vomit from heat exhaustion and you still occasionally gag even though there’s nothing in your stomach to come up anymore. All the years that you did not appeal to insects are making up for it now, they’re all over you and you can’t walk 3 steps without one getting in your eye. The jungle gets tighter and you can’t breathe because it’s pushing in on you almost as tight as the hands on your shoulders pushing you forward..
You start crying. At least, that is what you tell yourself as you whimper and sob as quietly as you can. You know you’re strong, but this is just beyond reason that any normal person could take. And when you think about how this is probably what life was all the time in Delta for the boys, you cry even harder because you feel guilty, that you have no right to complain.
Finally, after what feels like forever, the tightness of the jungle seems to loosen. More open. You notice some of the trees look more oddly arranged than others. As you get closer you realize they aren’t trees at all, but tents and dilapidated buildings built into the shadows of the trees. The huge roots and overhanging canopy of the jungle transformed a bustling camp into what looks like a little village. At the entrance, a line of guards in jungle fatigues that were impossible to detect until you got right up to them. You hear someone speak above you, alerting you to a man up in the trees on a platform tucked between the branches. There was another in the tree on the opposite side. He calls to the man with the sideburns, saying something in Spanish you can’t interpret fast enough, but it’s jovial and they laugh, and it makes you feel like you’re going to go mentally insane.
It’s like it’s not even serious to them. And it’s so serious to you.
You are pushed through the camp quickly, but not quick enough that you don’t see the insane amount of cocaine packages piled up in the makeshift buildings, sheds, and tents toward the back. Men were milling about checking them, moving them and glaring at you as you walked past.
You continue past the main camp, crossing over a bustling creek whose bridge was literally just planks of wood, but you noticed there were tire marks across them so you felt at least safe it could handle a car’s weight. Across the creek, an old stonework manor stood. You can tell at one time it must have been glorious, but the white stone-worked walls were dirty and crumbling in many places, the fountains out front had dried crusty palm fronds and dirt in them and looked like they hadn’t sprayed water since the 1980s.
It was still oddly beautiful. You thought about how this house came to be, what it might have looked like when it had been first built. A beautiful Caribbean sea mansion. A jungle that hadn’t closed in on it yet. Fountains spraying and colorful birds resting on the rooftops. But then you realize that this place has probably always been used for what it is now. Someone like Carl Lehder probably lived here and ran an entire cartel within this very jungle. Maybe it was the same one, just run by someone else.
There was a shabbily made shack to the left of the manor with padlocks, piles of debris piled next to the door. You assume that’s where you would be taken, but you were instead led up the stairs to the manor proper. And as your eyes focus in on the ground while you were being guided to the mansion instead, you realize the heap of matter by the shack that you thought was some dying plantation was actually a crumpled human body. A boy looking not much older than 17, shot execution style in the head and left to rot.
Then smell hits you, your knees buckle and you vomit on the stonework stairs, a scream of shock and realization pierces the jungle, making the nearby tropical birds explode from the treetops. When the sicarios pick you up and carry you through the mansion door, you’re still screaming.
Eventually whoever was carrying you became fed up, and simply dropped you at the bottom of the stairs and dragged you up backwards by the armpits instead. You didn’t even feel the step edges hitting the small of your back all the way up, but you would later.
You were tossed stricken and shivering on a disgusting, top-sheeted mattress on the floor in the corner of a room, your feet still bound together and your rope-bound hands looped through a radiator that was long enough only for you to lie down or shuffle over to a bucket for your business. Everything stank and you still had vomit on your chin so you curled up in a ball and slammed your eyes closed, hoping that in time the voices and smells and fear would give way to just simple numbness. You didn’t hear a female voice speaking to you for several seconds.
Your eyes snap open, skin pulled taut from dried unwiped tears,and you jolt upright to look in the direction of the voice. A woman who wasn’t even tied up was propped up against the adjoining wall, and as you take in her condition you could understand why they hadn’t even bothered. She wouldn’t have been able to run.
Her legs look..wrong, splaying at angles that shouldn’t be possible. They look like they could be broken, but you can’t tell for sure because she was wearing jeans that cover up most of her skin. The jeans were ripped in some places and stained with dark blood spots, the color turning brighter wherever her skin shows through the tears in the fabric. She’s missing several fingers on her left hand that had been burnt at the ends to cauterize, and her face was black and blue, swollen and smeared with more blood that seemed to be coming from her scalp somewhere. Her lips are pale and cracking and her eyes are glazed over and barely open. When she speaks, she already sounds like she is dead.
She swallows and winces slightly in pain, then licks her cracked pale lips.“Is…my…her–my brother. Did you see him? Out there?”
Your face scrunches in confusion, which actually hurts a little and you’re not sure from what specifically. Perhaps you look just as bad as the other girl. “Your–I—I don’t understand.”
She’s too exhausted to even be annoyed with you. “My brother. They took him from me days ago. They do not talk to me anymore. They don’t—need me anymore.” A single tear falls down her swollen cheek and you suddenly feel so much connection with this woman and how incredibly fucking strong she is. Her eyes roll over to you, meeting yours for the first time. There are burst blood vessels in them.
“I think that they killed him.”
Your lips part and you utter a shuddering breath as you connect the dots. There’s no point in sugar-coating it. You nod slowly. “I think so. But it’s not…recent.” You look away as her eyes slowly close, the additional tears she was holding back finally spilling over and cascading down her cheeks.
“Bueno.” She says. “Then at least he is not suffering like me.”
You both fall quiet and you look over her again. Her pants aren’t completely done up and her t shirt is ripped at the neckline, exposing a gashed shoulder. Almost like…
You start crying again, and you feel even worse about it this time because you have in front of you a woman who has been through much worse and is somehow NOT crying. You curl tighter into yourself to try and hide.
But she simply asks. “Who are you?”
You swallow, raising your head up off your arms, quickly wiping the access tears off on your sleeve. It’s incredible how adrenaline and fear can sometimes make you the most clear-headed you’ve ever been. Your thoughts are swirling but you knew one thing for damn sure, if they didn’t know your name yet, you weren’t going to say it now.
If I look forward I am lost. Focus on right now. Nothing else. It’s my best chance.
You know enough about trauma that compartmentalizing this moment is your best chance. You can’t think what will happen if you don’t escape, if you aren’t found, if they never come for you. You need to stay focused. You need to keep hope alive. You need to stay coherent, because if a chance pops up, you need to be able to think quickly.
“I’m no one.” You mumble. “Just happened to be dating the wrong person.”
She sniffs and looks away, but it’s muffled because her nose sounds congested. You don’t miss her tone though. “Mmmm. His new one then.”
You blink. “What?”
Her glazed over, discolored eyes snap back to yours. “Pope.” She spits. “Your man. Santia—”
“NO!” You cut her off with a shout, you know there is a guy who is in the area and you still don’t know how much these men do or do not know. “Don’t. Don’t give them names if they don’t already know it.”
“I don’t give a shit about Agent Garcia, or his friends, or anyone else, it’s their fault I am here and it’s their fault my brother is dead and..” She finally, finally starts to cry. “I told him I didn’t want to do it. They said they would let us go if we gave them what they wanted.”
“It was you.” You exhale with a shuddering breath. “They found us cause of you. You told them.” You shake your head, and for some reason you feel betrayed by this woman even though you’ve never met her. “How could you?”
“Because all I care about is my brother, do you understand?! I wish I’d never met him, Garcia, we would have just snuck away and no one would never seen us, but no, instead we listened to him and helped them steal from fucking Lorea, and now they found us and I knew they would, and YES, I gave them EVERYTHING because they said they’d let us go so long as they found you and–”
“Eh!” A voice trails in with a watchman you knew was hanging out somewhere in the hallway beyond. He slips through the doorway, a smaller man you were not expecting from that voice, and leans against the deteriorating door frame. He crosses his arms and his legs and it makes the handgun on his hip jut out prominently from his skinny hips. “No talking to each other.” His voice is silky and the words all slide together so it sounds like ‘no talkintoeeachother.’
You shrink back into the dirty wall behind you as your associate spits a bloody phlegm ball in the man’s direction. “FUCK you!” She snarls, a tirade of cuss words in Spanish flying from her lips.
A loud pop almost bursts your eardrums and your heart and you exclaim in terror as your associate is shot point blank in the head, her back slumping against the wall and her head hitting with a bang, pieces of blood and brain tissue spraying over the back wall with pieces flying in your direction.
The man remains completely motionless with his arms still raised before huffing a laugh to himself, putting the gun back on his hip, and looking at you with the such an unaffected gaze it leaves you feeling dizzy and you scream and scream and scream yourself hoarse, crumpling onto your mattress in a terrified heap, arms over your head, sobbing hysterically.
A gentle but firm palm wraps around your forearm, yanking you back up to a seated position. You look away, but the man’s other hand takes you gently by the jaw and makes you look at him. And just behind him, the woman slumped in a pool of blood and brain matter. You try to wriggle out of his grip but he tightens ever so slightly, and you can’t help but notice how different it is when Frankie would grab you like that versus this man. Frankie held you the same, sometimes harder, but you had trusted his domination and his care of you and because of that, it made it arousing. That same motion with this man has you more scared than you ever have been in your life.
“Bebita.��� He coos, thumb lightly caressing your jaw. He wipes at a small speck of blood you don’t know is even there. You can feel yourself shaking and breathing so fast you can see his half waxed back tousled locks that hang past his temples are blowing in its breeze. You can’t answer him. “Look at me.”
You do. His eyes are a dark, almost black chocolate brown, shape mismatched, a scruffy beard and goatee and thin lips. In another world you would find him devastatingly attractive and the fact that you do makes you feel absolutely violated and disgusted with yourself.
“Do not cry.” He continues. “You have no reason to if you behave, si? You be good and you listen and I will keep you safe you understand? Well, at least for now.” He shifts closer to you, you can smell his breath. It smells like orange and cloves. “There are a lot of men here Bebita. I am sure you understand what this means, si? Answer me.”
“Yes.” A final fat tear spills from one of your eyes, and it stings as it mixes with your sweat and the raw skin around your eyes.
He juts his head in the other woman’s direction. “This one, she fight the whole time. I like a easy job. Make my job easy, I make sure you always deal with me. Do not make me call in the other guys, they are not as nice. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He releases your chin and you scoot back quickly as he saunters over to the other woman’s bloody body, grabs it by the arm, and casually drags her as dismissively as possible out the door and out of your sight, leaving a bloody trail behind.
At first you just sit there in a slump staring at the opposite wall,, you don’t know for how long. Probably hours. Maybe days. The man, whose name you figured out from when he spoke to someone else in the hall, is Angel. Sometimes he would sit up and watch you, as if figuring you out, your body and the way you shift and switch positions when you are uncomfortable, what it looked like when you were crying and trying to keep quiet and unnoticed. But most of the time he ignored you. Occasionally others would come into the room and either speak to him or approach you, but upon noticing Angel watching them they would hiss or spit a curse and slink off.
The room reminded you of those old houses from the 70s that had those drafty unfinished basements that were simply concrete floors, painted stucco or white brick. To the sicarios, it served as an overflow area, there was a rotting desk along the side wall with a metal folding chair and piles of scattered papers and random household tools on them. Against the opposite side wall was a pretty nice tv, considering, which was always playing soccer. Angel seemed to make that his home base, his lithe frame sprawled across a grandma-fabric sofa, head resting on one of the puffy arm rests. He binge-smoked cigarettes and his right hand was always stretched over his head resting against his forehead in the direction of to an end table with an massive overflowing porcelain ashtray on it. You didn’t used to mind the smell of cigarettes too much but now it makes you feel sick.
You’re ashamed of how little you actually think about your current situation and like the hopeless romantic idiot you are, mostly all you can think about is Frankie. The things he said–you knew he said mean things when he was mad, or things he didn’t mean, but isn’t there always some truth to things that are said in the heat of the moment? That was enough for you to silently spiral. You thought about every memory you had of him and how it could be viewed through the lens that Frankie just wanted to fuck you. Your self confidence was low enough it was believable, and your mind races through every instance of an older man being in a relationship with someone much younger and how of course it was predatory, and how could you not see it, that you didn’t have anything in common? It’s a tale as old as time. He just wanted to fuck you, he wanted to fuck you and dominate you, his dark desires seducing you into feeling so wanted you can’t believe you thought he loved you and didn’t see right through it.
And his friends, well, they were all in on it weren’t they, because why would they want to hang out with someone like you either? Why would men such as that actually want to be friends with you when you have never experienced half of what they have.
Fuck him. Fuck him and his lying ass, he was a fucking loser addict and you’re pissed at yourself for even considering him. Like how lonely were you?? To choose an old man with a kid who served in an institution that represented everything you hated about this country? To be so easily blinded by pretty words and love bombs to immediately take your clothes off. Because how, if he actually loved you or even like you, could he possibly have lied about something so big?! Or bought you something nice with all that fucking drug money he stole. Not that you’d want it or expected it, but why wouldn’t you want to treat someone you love as much as he claimed to?
How could he sit there and make up what happened to Tom like that, when you were being so coddling and trying to be a caring ear. And Benny…Pope...if they were your friends they should have told you, that’s what real friends do…
But they weren’t your friends. They were never your friends.
And if you went the other way, and considered that it was all true, that he did love you, that they were all your friends, and that he lied to you and threw stones to hurt you and push you away, how was that any better? You couldn't even think about a future not being with him, but obviously he could. He could watch you cry and question him and not even look at you, completely ignore you, then not even think about you again. No texts, no calls. No “I’m sorry, please come back.” Silence.
How could it be so easy for him? How can he just go about his life like you never happened? Why did you still care?
Why did you still want him?
Why did you still love him so so much. Part of you wishes they’d get on with it and just kill you. At least then you wouldn’t have to feel this excruciating pain. You wouldn’t have to see him show up to rescue you because he has to, to have to see his fucking face and every line, crinkle, scar, the bald patch in his beard and the tousled little curls that pop out of his hat…only for him to save you and then leave again, or die and then you have the guilt of killing a man who no longer loved you.
Yea. You think you’d rather die.
You feel like you’re going to throw up again. You’d let him force his cock in your mouth as far as it could go, let him tie you up and fuck you hard enough to leave bruises you had thought of as a badge of honor. You’d let him cum on your face. You’d let him fucking cum inside you! He’d gaslit you so you actually wanted him to tie you up with zip ties—-
Your heart almost stops. You can picture how his face looked exactly when he said it.
Sometimes rope can give over time.
That’s why we always used zip ties.
You look down at your bound hands.
They’re bound with rope.
#fix you fic#triple frontier fanfic#frankie morales x you#frankie morales x reader#frankie catfish morales x you#frankie catfish morales x reader#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal character fanfic
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@lightandfellowship re: your tags on this post (just to kind of bring this out to a different post).
I was thinking about making a separate post to expand on those tags anyway because they were a little off topic to the op, but I was like, you know, it's that Xehanort was worse to the Dandelions than Luxu was, yes. But Luxu was supposed to be that callous to the Dandelions in the first place. He was supposed to think of them as tools and to just let whatever fucked up thing was supposed to happen to them just happen. And with anyone else he can, but he can't put his personal feelings aside enough to 'do what needs to be done' for this set of people alone.
But Xehanort can.
And I think that's really interesting when looking at Xehanort as the 'replacement Luxu.' Xehanort who, as observed by another post I don't have immediately to hand, speaks with MoM twice. Xehanort who is chosen by MoM and manipulated into doing his bidding the same way Luxu was, given the same coat and made the heir to Luxu's keyblade, Xehanort who actually is allowed to take action to bring the Keyblade War about and revive the Lost Masters while Luxu is only allowed to watch.
Actually I started this post with a different thesis ('Xehanort is able to put his personal feelings aside and be ruthless even where Luxu fails to follow his role') but writing that paragraph I've changed my mind actually. Because Luxu has basically no agency in this situation, whereas Xehanort does.
Like, both of them are assigned roles by their mentors but Xehanort isn't really given a road map about how to fulfill his role. He's being manipulated, sure, but he's also making choices himself all along. They're choices that are fucked up but he understands they're fucked up and is choosing them anyway because he strongly feels it's necessary for the greater good.
Luxu has been told these things are necessary for the greater good. He's been told what to do. He's been told to just watch and that he can never take action. He doesn't even have the illusion of agency that Xehanort, who is actively choosing to lean into his feeling that destiny is inevitable, does. What is that like, to live hundreds of years never having any sense of agency? For Luxu, helping the Dandelions is fucking up. It's doing what he knows he's not supposed to, what he's been told is against the Plan, but he has no agency and this is his little way of rebelling, even if this is, to us, the 'right' thing to do. There's a question of what actually is 'right' and 'wrong' here and whether Xehanort is a 'better Luxu' than Luxu for choosing to simply follow The Plan.
Also I'm rambling here but putting things together as I go, sorry to also expand on other tags on posts I reblogged from you lol, but like. Luxu also very clearly has Lucifer stuff going on, the same way Xehanort does, down to the name. Xehanort takes on the Satan imagery over time - but it was Luxu's first. And Luxu is the one who actually tried to rebel against his Creator by deviating from his role (only to watch) and intervening with the Union leaders.
The thing about angels is they are not, in Catholic traditions (I can't speak to other denominations) is that they are not supposed to have free will. Free will is for humans; angels only follow The Plan, with no agency or say in the matter. They're messengers and avatars created only to execute the will of God. The Foretellers seem to play this role, if you will, in relation to Master of Masters. He hands them roles to execute the plan he's already designed. If we're, in this analogy, considering Master of Masters to be in the role of 'god', both Ava and Luxu are ultimately fallen angels - they both question the will of their creator, both rebel - but Luxu rebelling was built into the plan. He is Lucifer, and Lucifer rebels, and so he was still allowed to come back to the fold at the end of kh3, having fulfilled his duty even considering his rebellion. He still had no agency in the end, even having done what he thought was exercising it by saving the Union leaders.
Anyway I'm just rambling on at this point and don't really have a conclusion to this but the whole interplay between Luxu and Xehanort, agency and servitude, angels and devils, light and dark, feels really compelling to me.
#not to be getting theological on main here either but also to do that#I have more than a decade of intense religious education and even though i no longer do organized religion like#it's a topic that kh seems to have a lot of themes kh engages with#Luxu#Xehanort
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Hey, I love your writing so much! If you’re taking requests I’d like a short fic about reader mourning the loss of their dog? I just lost my girl Sasha and would like a comfort fic , Eddie or Steve, either is cool with me- phantom
Hi, love 💚 I'm so sorry to hear about your loss, and I hope this fic helps you through the grieving process. I went with Eddie for this one.
TW: death, loss of a pet, grief
CW: 690
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It feels like it should be raining.
The sun hangs high in the sky, a gentle breeze blowing every so often. The weather gives no indication of any impending storm, not even a hint of gray in the white clouds. But to you, there’s a darkness that even the brightest light can’t repair.
There will be no more wagging tail and excited barking to greet you when you come home. The realization cleaves your heart clean in half.
Tears burn at your eyes and you let them fall, sliding down your cheeks and plopping unceremoniously onto the concrete stoop beneath you.
“Hey.”
You look up and see Eddie standing in front of you, a cellophane-wrapped bouquet of daisies in his grasp.
“Hi.”
The wrapping crinkles under his fingers as he sits beside you. He scoots close enough so you can rest your head on his shoulder. An ugly sob escapes you in a dramatic heave, but he refrains from commenting. In fact, he doesn’t say anything at all.
You bask in the comforting silence, no expectations to talk or bare your feelings. Eddie presses a kiss to your forehead and sighs.
“Can I say something?” He asks, and for the first time, you notice that he’s been crying, too. When you nod, he softly says, “She was a really good dog. The best, actually.”
“Mhm.” You don’t dare open your mouth for fear of starting up the waterworks again.
“I keep thinking about the time I brought over burgers from Benny’s,” he continues, “and I left them on the counter for two seconds, and she tore into them.”
You scoff lightly. “It was more than two seconds.”
“Okay, well, I didn’t time it or anything. But it was fast. Like, lightning speed.” He taps his toe, knee brushing against the flower stems. “These are for you, by the way.”
Taking the daisies from him, you hold them to your nose and inhale. Fresh, new, alive. The juxtaposition has your chin wobbling embarrassingly. “Th-Thanks, Eds.”
Another pause, then: “Y’know, I lost a pet once, too.”
You swivel around, eyebrows pinched together. “I didn’t know Wayne let you have a pet.”
“He didn’t. I had to keep it a secret.”
“How did you manage to keep a dog a secret?” It’s not as though he and his uncle lived in a mansion; the tiniest Chihuahua could be easily spotted in their trailer.
Eddie grins. “Who said anything about a dog?”
“A cat?”
He shook his head, giving the same response for your guesses of rabbit, lizard, and bird.
“Do I even wanna know?”
He presses a hand to his heart in feigned offense. “I can’t believe you don’t remember Ant-chovy.”
You burst out laughing despite the weighty grief bogging you down. “Are you seriously comparing the death of my dog to the death of an ant?”
“He was my friend!” Eddie retorts. “And he was murdered right before my very eyes!”
You knock your shoulder into his with a playful shove. “Weren’t you the one who stepped on him?”
He scowls and plucks the bouquet from your hands. “I bring you flowers in your time of need, and you mock me?”
A smile tugs at your lips. “My deepest apologies. And my condolences for the loss of your dear friend, Ant-chovy. Who certainly was not an ant and who you definitely knew for more than five minutes.”
“Thank you.” Eddie gives you back the daisies; this time, he leans his head on your shoulder. “You’re gonna get through this.”
“Feels like I’ll be sad forever.”
He nods. “I know. But you won’t be. And I’m not going anywhere until you tell me to fuck off.”
You take a deep breath. “Is it okay if we talk a little bit about her? Like, share memories of her? Just for a little bit?”
“Course it’s okay.” Eddie smiles, coaxing the emotions from you without even trying. “You wanna go first?”
You do. With each word, the sunshine doesn’t sting quite as harshly; the blue sky seems less out of place. And should the rain start to fall, you will always find shelter in Eddie.
--
#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#fanfic#eddie stranger things#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x you#eddie x reader#requests
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Sorry, I just got jumped by an idea due to this Tweet.
Tarn is assigned virgin by the author and now I want so bad to have Pharma get his virginity and break his nasty little heart. Or at least that's the intention but there's no way Pharma is getting away after wrecking Tarn so hard he thinks it's love.
I'm picturing the war ending slightly before the Red Rust, so Pharma is left with his reputation and unresolved rage. Post-Peace Treaty, Tarn is thoroughly collared and abandoned (dumped) by Megatron and separated from his division to "integrate" and Pharma finds him vulnerable and alone.
Tarn never did anything, but he certainly looked, and Pharma smells weakness and goes up to tell him bygones are bygones and seduces him. Something that Tarn is unprepared for despite talking a good game. Pharma goes full isolation and gaslight and getting Tarn drunk being sweet and pretty and pushing his tipsy body into bed and telking him to be good while he pushes his legs apart and pets him until he opens.
Tarn starts to atruggle to get up through the haze but Pharma plugs into him locking his fuel intake chip. Tarn is floaty and slow and very, very hot with Pharma petting his valve and cooing it him until his wet, says he must open his legs and shakes himself to be taken so easily and a regularly whore for an Autobot all while rocking his palm against him, grinding against his node and stroking his lips and jerking his spike while Tarn struggles to argue and overloads hard when Pharma leans forward and practically purrs "slut" and stops being gently slapping his valve and pinching his spike.
Tarn sobs through it squirting and Pharma calls him a slob, pushing his thighs further apart roughly and says if Tarn likes it so roughly he'll make sure he enjoys it and thrusts into once without any prep making Tarn scream as his seal breaks and his calipers are shoved open painfully quickly without anytime to recover overstimulated so much it transfers into painful and the edges back to pleasure making Tarn squeal while Pharma talks down to him not stopping saying how neglected he is and desperate and spike hungry and Tarn is melting.
He's hiccuping and moaning and rocking back against Pharma which only makes him get mocked more and Tarn is so overwhelmed and feeling something for the first time in so long and is so painfully lonely the moment Pharma pulls out and says he should leave Tarn there wanting and desperate, Tarn screams no and Pharma looks him dead in the eye and tells him to beg and he does.
Tarn by the end is just absolutely broken in and saying yes, i love you, and pharma over and over letting himself be moved and used until he's unconcious only to wake up and be used again. He is thoroughly under and by the time he comes out is absolutely desperate for Pharma's touch and orders.
And then Pharma leaves. He's smirking and proud of himself. He'd taken pictures and recorded Tarn begging and crawling for him and sucming him off and covered in transfluid and snuck them online anonymously.
Tarn, though, will not lose another master and tracks Pharma down to his distant new hospital waiting for Pharma in his house, and instead of being killed, Pharma, who'd sobered up and realized he might have fucked himself has a new murder sex kitten who is demanding orders and the power freely offered and devotion and plugs in pussy first.
OH holy shit I actually had a dream that i answered this ask with a fanfic i wrote. i did… not. i never wrote a fanfic about virgin Tarn getting ruined by Pharma. which is extremely sad.
Anyhow. Obsessed. I love to think about Tarn being knocked down a peg or two… Abandoned by Megatron and left to fend for himself, Tarn is so lost, he just needs a master to worship. Pharma doesn’t aim to become that but he couldn’t have guessed that pinning down Tarn when he’s vulnerable will make him “fall in love” with him. hrghhh I do want Pharma to tease Tarn when he feels his seal tear open as he pushes in, promising to treat him very nice since this is his first time. Not gentle, but nice will suffice. Tarn breaking down sobbing as he loses his seals, clinging to Pharma, valve hot and wet and staining the bed with squirt and lubricant… Pharma’s ego inflates so much seeing Tarn turn into a babbling mess.
When Tarn chases Pharma down again, he's on his knees in under a minute. Tarn’s never felt pleasure like that and he begs Pharma to pin him down and use him again. Pharma was not ready for a full-time commitment but this is honestly amazing, I mean, the power and control Pharma has over him now…
Tarn is clingy and constantly trailing after him, probably creaming into his panels every time Pharma gives him an order, and it would be a little annoying, but at least Pharma can order Tarn to stay in the bed like a good boy and wait for him to get back. He's always so desperate then, grinding into the bed at the sight of him... <3
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doing each other's hair
"Good morning, sunshine!" Gerry chirped as Michael stumbled into their kitchen.
"Don't call me that," Michael grumbled back, too achingly tired to accept a new pet name. He did, however, accept a kiss and an extra-large mug of coffee from Gerry. "How are you so fucking perky?"
"I've been up for a while," he explained, which also explained the mess of dishes and flour across the counters and a warm smell wafting from the oven. Gerry himself had a streak of flour across his cheeks, and a very eager look in his eye. "Couldn't go back to sleep, so I just got up." He paused, a grin breaking like the sunrise on his face. "Your hair...it's very uplifted today, isn't it?"
"You don't have to tell me," Michael agreed with a long sigh, sinking down in a slump at the table. He could feel his curls disorderly half-piled on his head, a horribly tangled mass he couldn't bear the face yet. He took a long sip of his syrupy-sweet warm coffee and groaned heavily. "You've missed your calling as a barista."
Gerry snorted, coming around the counter to stand behind his chair. "I would make a terrible barista," he said, sinking his fingers into Michael's curls and beginning to card through them. "Someone would get mad at me and ask for my manager, and I'd just tell them to go fuck themselves."
"Guess I'll keep you and your skills all to myself," Michael gloated, eyes falling shut and leaning back into Gerry's touch. His bad morning mood was melting away, thanks to the coffee and his incredibly sweet boyfriend. Gerry was much kinder to his hair than he was, gently detangling the curls, separating sections and finger-combing through them while humming to himself. Michael knew he'd learned these techniques from watching him, and found himself hopelessly touched. Gerry really was the sweetest.
By the time he'd finished his drink Gerry had loosely braided his hair back, and was rubbing his hands along his back soothingly. "Thank you, my love," Michael murmured, eyes still closed. "I'm sorry I'm so grumpy in the morning."
"You don't have to apologize," Gerry assured him, looping his arms around his shoulders and hugging him from behind. "I don't expect you to be sunshine all the time. That's too much for anyone, even you." He pulled back to press a kiss just above his ear. "I still love you, no matter how you are."
"I love you too," Michael sighed, his bad mood melting away like fog on a warm summer morning. It was nice to have Gerry's words and affection even when he was in a mood. Even better when his mood could be lifted by said words and affection.
The oven timer went off, and Gerry pulled away with one last kiss, drifting into the kitchen to remove the deliciously fragrant scones. "Do you want another coffee?" he asked over his shoulder.
"Yes, please."
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Yuno Sykk at MCM Comic-Con 29/10/23 !!!
#yuno sykk#nopixel#nopixel yuno#sykkuno#cosplay#comic con#sorry if I fucked up the lean I'm not very good at it >﹏<
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So you have mentioned long ago that btses and strays are similar and I was curious how? I see it in their um interesting fandoms. But I can also see similarities with blokb kinda.
well.
rapper leader that supposedly had a hand in choosing members
three rapper unit
marketed as a 'self produced' group
self love + positive reinforcement branding
weekly recurring lives/shows on vlive
huge emphasis on intl audiences to the point where there's not a lot of domestic regard
extremely poorly behaved fanbase of mostly intl fans
vocalists that can't pass muster
overrated dancer
underrated dancer that gets shafted constantly
steep increase in production budget that does nothing visually other than show off how much money the company has
#which group am i talking about? :)#kpop questions#875#skz w#i was wondering if anyone was gonna pick up on that bc this is gonna be a veryyyyyyyyyy unpopular opinion lmao#but jype and skz are quite literally using the exact same playbook and blueprint...................sorry#a lot of kpoppies and armies specifically have beef with atz and think theyre trying to be the next bts for some fucking reason#that ive never understood bc atz has NEVER been billed as a self produced group. nor are they a hiphop led group either#but they say that anyways while ignoring the fact that aside from some genre bits skz is following the EXACT same steps.#the only way they would have one upped bts is if they had actually kept all nine members bc then they would have an actually good vocalist#this isnt about music btw this is specifically about the formation and function of the groups and their branding#the music is obvs very different that's not where this angle is. music doesnt matter to kpoppies anyways#text#answers#idk. it could be a very specific coincidence like the got7/superm thing#but jype is always a little behind on trends and they're always copying so i'm leaning towards intentional#anyways. i'm ready for the unfollows and my cancellation era slkdfjsldkfj#this is maybe one of the few opinions that i do think ppl might get mad at me for real for
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TOMMMMMMMMTOMAFOMAFO TOM SWEEEEEEP TOM SWEEP!!!!! TOM SWEEP GOL GOL GOL GOL GOL GOLAZOOOOOOO GOL GOL GOL
#txt#sorry. i'm fine i just fucking GOD TOM THATS WHAT IM TALKING ABOUUUUT!#i fully expected him to apologise back but he DIDNT because he ISNT GONNA LIE ANY MORE#HE STOOD UP FOR HIMSELF!!!!!!!!!!!!!#GOD. THANK GOD!!!!!#GOOD FOR HIM!!!!!!!#i know they BEATING HIS ASS in the twitter and dark part of tungle w stans but i dont care GOOD FOR FUCKIGN HIM#is he lying when he said is that a new tactic bc she fully brought it up IN AN ARGUMENT like she told him BC SHE WANTED TO LAY SOME#EMOTIONAL WARFARE ON HIM WHILE HE WAS BEING BATTERED BY ALL THREE SIBLINGS AT ONCE AND STRESSED TO SHIT#and can you blame him for not bowing down to her apology WHEN ITS OBVIOUS SHE FULLY SAID IT EXPECTING HIM TO DO THE SAME#she only said it bc she wanted him to take back everything he said. but he was NOT going to do that#he's not doing it any more.#and when she didn't get what she wanted she dropped the bomb on him she used it as a way to get him to break down and apologise#it was actually. another tactic because the first one didn't work. and yeah she IS pregnant but it was still a tactic.#also she was getting VERY annoyed with tom begging greg to help him. she could fully see tom was leaning heavily on greg for support.#she does NOT like that!!!! at all!! she knows! come on! she fucking knows! we all know! what else am i supposed to take from that!#she chooses THEN to do all this to tom? like right after he's outwardly calling for greg to help him and greg is Trying to. they're a team#right in front of her?#hm. hmmmmm. things that make you go HM.
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Prompt “❛ i love that no one else has seen you like this, that no one else has felt you before, been inside you. they don't get to have you, but i do. ❜” with alastor :3
Likke reader has been with multiple people but alastor is the first person to make her cum 0.0
prompt: Hii I really like your work! Can you do face sitting with alastor like reader mentions that she wants to sit on alastor face to angel and alastor overhears or angels says outlook to husk while his wasted thank youu
a/n: combining these two prompts!! ^ thinking maybe alastor overhears you talking with angel about your woes and offers to uhhh assist 👀
"the guys down here suck, angel." you sigh, sitting next to angel in the hotel lounge. you crack open your beer and hand him one as well. "yer tellin' me, babe." he chuckles. "whats got ya worked up this tIme?" he hums, reaching an arm around your shoulders. "thats the thing! nothing!" you groan, leaning into his body. "you know how many times i've tried hooking up with someone just for them to bust in 30 seconds and rub my inner thigh?" angel almost chokes on his drink.
"they're the worst. no one down here has been able to make me cum but myself." you mutter, taking a sip of your drink. "who do you want, hm?" angel asks. "maybe i can hook ya up with someone good." he wiggles his eyebrows, earning a giggle from you. the alcohol is making you feel a little brave, so with a sigh, you let your words free. "y'know who i think about all the time?" angel's eyes widen with interest, anticipation building.
"alastor..." you admit for the first time out loud. angel does choke on his drink this time before he laughs. "bitch! the radio demon?!" he barely contains his cackle. "stop! i mean, have you seen him? god, angel. i'd get down on my knees and bark if he told me to. i wanna sit on his face, hold onto his antlers for support. ughh, he's so hot." you whine into angel's chest, embarrasmemt finally setting in. angel tries to contain himself, but you've never said something so out of pocket but also very relatable.
unbeknownst to you, alastor stands not far behind you, his ears twitching as he listens in. a part of him does feel a tinge of guilt for listening, but you'd be quieter if you didn't want anyone to hear you. "well now, isn't that interesting?" alastor's voice makes you jump, almost tossing your beer straight onto angel. "oh fuck..." angel all but pushes you over in an attempt to get away.
"oh my god. alastor i'm so sorry, i was just-" you scramble to defend yourself, but alastor puts his staff under your chin to raise your eyes to his. "what was that you said about wanting to... sit on my face? about these worthless little demons not knowing how to treat a woman?" the sultry tone in his voice has you clenching your thighs together, which you blame on the alcohol swirling in your gut. you laugh awkwardly, trying to brush this off as alastor teasing you but there's a look in his eyes that tells you he's dead serious. "it's nothing! just venting some frustrations, that's all."
your eyes are a dead giveaway, desire flooding them as you peer up at alastor. "why don't you accompany me to my room for the evening, darling? we wouldn't want these inexperienced fools to try and make a move now, would we?" he extends his hand, and you decide to throw caution to the wind. standing, you let him pull you close. "blow my mind, radio boy." you whisper, watching alastor's eyes darken and his smirk grow. alastor uses the shadows, leading you straight to his room in a mere moment.
your heart rate sky rockets, realization hitting your gut as you start to strip. "how long has it been?" he asks, picking you up with ease and carrying you to the bed. "w-what?" you hesistate, watching as alastor ushers you to climb on top of him. "since someone else made you cum?" you swallow, straddling his chest. "i don't even remember al..." alastor's hands come around to grip your ass and pull you forward. with a gasp, you brace yourself on the headboard and then the feeling of alastor's tongue immediately has your brain turning to mush.
it's dizzying, the slide of his tongue up and down your slit was already far better than anything you've experienced in such a long time. "o-oh fuck." your body shudders, barely being able to hold still. alastor's tongue dips passed your entrance, lapping up your juices like a man starving. you already feel that familiar coil in your stomach forming, threatening to snap all over alastor's face. "that's, oh god alastor, that's so good." you moan, gripping tighter on the headboard as your hips start to stutter on their own.
then, you feel alastor's hands on your ass start to push and pull you, forcing your cunt to slide over his tongue. "y-you, i'm gonna-" you can't even think straight, pleasure blinding you to anything else happening in the entire world. alastor hums against your clit, sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth and that's it, you're cumming hard enough that your vision goes dark and tears well in your eyes.
you're shaking, barely being able to breathe as alastor's tongue runs lazy circles over your still sensitive clit to ride out your orgasm. before you're fully recovered, alastor quickly flips you onto your back and his fingers find your puffy pussy. "you have no idea the honor it is to be the only one to see you like this, my dear. the only one to feel you-" he pauses, pushing two fingers inside your needy cunt so he can hear your sweet moans. "cum. and i will be the only one to continue feeling that. you will cum on my face, my fingers, my cock... anything you please."
the desire burning in your core strengthens once more. not even your own fingers have ever made you cum twice, but alastor is about to pull a second orgasm from you almost completely back to back. "make me cum again." you whine, hips arching further off the bed as his fingers pump in and out slowly. "on your cock, fuck, please fuck me alastor."
alastor chuckles, his free hand unbottoning the front of his pants just enough to free his cock. "how could i deny such a good girl? cum on my cock, my princess." in an instant, alastor's fingers are replaced by the thickness of his cock. the first thrust alone has you teetering on the edge, while his thumb rubs tight circles on your clit.
your pussy clenches around his girth, pulsing with every sweep of his finger. each thrust of his hips pushes you closer to the edge, his cock filling you like no one else could ever. "y-you, gonna cum again." you cry out, spasms wrecking your body as your second orgasm hits even more intense with the feeling of his thick cock stretching your pussy.
alastlor groans, pumping his cock deeper, deeper until he's cumming as well. "such a good girl." he grunts, pushing each thick rope of cum further inside. "you won't ever have to worry about not being taken care of, my dear." he assures, pulling out slowly even as your cunt tries to squeeze him in. "there's plenty more where that came from, rest your pretty little eyes." he coos, pulling a blanket on your tired body.
you just know this is going to be the best sleep pf your fucking life...
#hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#alastor x reader smut#alastor hazbin#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor x you#hazbin alastor smut#alastor smut#hazbin hotel alastor smut#alastor imagines#alastor#hazbin alastor x reader#alastor x you smut#hazbin smut#alastor hazbin hotel smut#hazbin alastor#alastor x reader imagines
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JJK Men: Seeing You Without Makeup For the First Time
Warning: Fluffy sweetness, insecurities, suggestiveness, language
Characters: Gojo Satoru, Choso Kamo, Modern!Ryomen Sukuna, Nanami Kento
Word Count: 2,993
A/N: Ah yes, I love this trope. It was fun to write!! Please Enjoy, don't blame me from any cavities from this sweet fluff. Request Open.
Gojo Satoru:
The smell of freshly brewed coffee was the only thing keeping your eyes open. You grumbled and cursed the sun for rising another day as you leaned over the kitchen counter, watching the magic bean juice filling your cup. The higher-ups must not like you because the mission they just sent you on was hell.
A week, a damn week, you were gone. A week from your bed, students, and your boyfriend. Stupid old men and their dumb missions. But who were you to complain if you paid your bills and you were able to teach the next generation of sorcerers? So life wasn't that bad.
Then again, your somewhat happy outlook on life might be the sleep deprivation talking.
The bastards were sweet enough to give you one day to recuperate. There was no time to relax, though. You had laundry to sort through, groceries to pick up, and the normal mundane things you'd missed out on during the WEEK you were gone!
A day off was a day off despite it being a busy one. You would get it all done after you drank this coffee Satoru got you from Mexico on his last mission. As soon as you downed it, you would off. You were already dressed to go. You had on sweats and a t-shirt, and you opted out of putting on any makeup, seeing that you would just be running around.
Your phone chimed as Satoru’s name popped up on your screen. You smiled as you opened the chat.
Satoru: Good morning, beautiful! 😙 Welcome back! I had breakfast delivered to you; enjoy! 🍳🥓🧇
“Oh, he's getting laid later.” You squealed, running for the door to your apartment.
You flung it open, staring at the ground, expecting a bag, but instead, you were greeted by shoes. Designer shoes that you knew all too well. Slowly trailing up dark uniform pants and jacket that was from the same school you worked at. Further up, you caught sight of a wide grin, a blindfold, and fluffy white hair. All of which belongs to your boyfriend, who was holding a takeout bag.
“Special delivery for Y/L/N Y/N!”
Your boyfriend was here. The same boyfriend who was utterly gorgeous no matter what condition he was in. The man could be caked in blood, and you still wanted to kiss him. Then there was you; you always put in the effort to look nice around him, hair styled, cute outfit, some form of makeup always on.
Today was not one of those days.
In a panic, you squeaked, slamming the door in his face. “What the fuck?! What the actual fuck!?” You glanced around for anything you could use to hide your appearance. You panicked and grabbed the first thing off the couch.
“Uhm, babe?” Satoru questioned, opening the door. “I know you were gone for a week. But I'm Gojo Satoru, your boyfriend.”
“I know!! Sorry, I wasn't expecting to see you!” you had your back turned to him, covering your face with your hands. “T-Thanks for the food! But I have so much to do!”
“Really?”
“Yep! Laundry!”
“I had Ijichi pick it up this morning.”
Fuuuuck.
“O-Okay! I have to get groceries!”
“Your fridge is fully stocked, courtesy of yours truly.”
The room felt like it was shrinking in on you as you listened to him come up behind you. The bag was discarded as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest. You weren't sure how he would react, seeing your bare face, and that was terrifying.
So many men thought women wearing makeup was like lying. You had always done very light and minimal makeup, but it didn't make it less scary. Sensing the tension, Satoru gently turned you around so you were facing him. He stiffened, his mouth turning from a grin to a shocked expression.
“Y/N?” His voice was so quiet.
“Y-Yeah?”
A choked laugh erupted from his throat. “I-Is that one of my blindfolded?!” He called as you stated at the darkness his blindfold provided. “Oh my god, hold on! Hold on!” You could feel him near you with the camera on his phone clicking. “Oh my god, wait until the second years see this!” Fingers hooked under the blindfold, yanking it up and off your head.
Your hands flew up, hiding your face. Your attempt was foiled as Satoru's gentle hands pulled them away. With a shuddering sigh, you looked up at him, biting your cheek as he fully saw you. For you, no makeup, fancy clothes, or styled hair.
Satoru just smiled, leaning down before he kissed your lips gently. “Welcome home.” He pulled back, tilting his head to the side. “What was with the off-brand cosplay?” Your cheeks are flushed, the darker pigment visible without any trace of makeup.
“I-I don't have any makeup on.”
“Oh!” He straightened, his large hand patting your head. “You're so cute.”
His grin grew wider at the confused expression inching its way over your face. “Seriously? Do you think that? Even without the makeup and the baggy clothes? You still think I'm cute?” Satoru’s head bobbed up and down so fast you thought his head would fall out. His sincere reaction made you giggle, shaking your head. “Satoru, you are so strange. But also extremely sweet.” When you looked up, you blinked, seeing Gojo holding up one side of his blindfold. His bright blue eye looked you over, inching over every curve and surface of you. “Satoru, stop staring.”
“I just was confirming something.” he snapped his blindfold back into place before draping an arm over you.
You poured yourself a cup of coffee while Satoru pulled your breakfast out of the bag. “Confirming what?”
“Just confirming with Six-Eyes that I have the prettiest girlfriend in the entire world.”
Gojo’s smile slowly faded as you slammed the coffee pot down. Oh fuck, what did he say?! You led around; fire swarmed in Y/E/C eyes as you stormed over to him, grabbing his wrist.
“W-What?! What did I say?” He huffed out a gasp as you shoved him onto the couch.
“Everything.”
You unzipped his pants, and Gojo’s eyes were wide behind his blindfold. Even with Six-Eyes, Gojo did not see this coming. Spoiler alert: It was him, he was going to cum.
Choso Kamo:
A knock at your door had you straightening from your spot on the couch. Looking at your phone, you quickly got up. It was well past midnight, and it was never a good sign when someone knocked that late at night on the door.
Much to your relief, when you opened the door to your apartment, your boyfriend looked down at you. “Choso?” a sigh of relief escaped your lips.
“I'm sorry. Did I wake you?” he asked before entering your apartment.
“No, I think you just saved me a stiff neck.” You yawned out before locking the door. “Did you and Yuuji finish up with that mission?”
“Yes, he went back home; I wanted to see you.”
Choso watched as you moved around the apartment. You straightened up the pillows on the couch and wiped down your kitchen before grabbing his hand and leading him to the bedroom. The entire time you went about your mundane tasks, Choso just stared. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something was different about you.
Choso’s eyes moved over you. Trying to depict what was different tonight. Haircut? No. New pajamas? No, that wasn't it, either. Everything Choso tried to think of wasn't the right answer. Not knowing what it was frustrated him to the point that Choso’s eyebrow twitched.
What had you glowing in the lowlights of your bedroom as you pulled the sheets back? “Cho?” You finally asked with a nervous chuckle. “Are you okay? You're staring holes through me.” Realizing that he had been caught, Choso flinched.
“I'm sorry, sorry I just—” Words trailed off as his cheeks flushed.
You had noticed Choso staring at you since he came inside. The poor guy never saw you without makeup, which was probably strange. He seemed to be struggling, trying to find the words to the mountain of questions he might have.
“It's okay. I think I know what you're going to ask.”
“Huh?”
“Yeah, you’re going to ask what’s different.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I look different because I’m not wearing makeup.”
Choso tilted his head to the side.”Oh, no, I was going to say you look radiant tonight.” The words that left his mouth had both of you standing in silence.
You just eyed Choso as he smiled, nodding his head like he'd figured out the mystery of what was different. Pleased with his conclusion, he helped you pull the sheets back. His hands smoothed out the covers before he peered up at you. You were blushing, smiling ear to ear as you finished pulling the bed back.
“I just finished doing my skincare routine,” you announced as you crawled into bed after Choso showered. “I have a new serum that is supposed to make you look luminescent.”
Choso studied you carefully as he crawled into bed with you. “Mmm, maybe that’s it.” He pulled you into his arms. “Or maybe it’s just me.” Choso hummed, staring into the face that he loved so much. “Falling in love.” Love?! “Yeah, I think that’s exactly what this is.”
That was the reasoning behind your radiant glow. A glow that always surrounded you no matter what you wore or looked like. Choso saw utter perfection in you. So it only made sense that the reason you looked extra stunning was that he had fallen in love with you even more.
You just snuggled closer into his chest, grinning wide as he yawned. “I love you too, Cho.”
Ryomen Sukuna:
Ten minutes. All it took was ten minutes before chaos erupted in Sukuna’s apartment. He had just finished changing when he heard the commotion. Yuuji and Choso were bickering before you gently tried to break up the argument. The next thing he heard was a scream, your scream, to be exact.
He bolted, running into the kitchen, where he found you wiping at your face. “What the fuck?!” His younger brothers both stood in shock, watching you in fear. Yuuji was holding a box of baking soda, and Choso held a bottle of vinegar.
In the center of the kitchen was the volcano experiment you had been helping Yuuji make. Sukuna was able to put it all together in an instant. He didn't bother yelling. He instead lifted you into his arms, carrying you to the bathroom.
“What the hell happened?” You flinched when you felt a warm, wet rag gently cleaning your face off.
“The boys wanted to see how big of an explosion they could make. But you know the boys, they both were arguing about who should do what. Words were said, contents were thrown into a beaker, and I didn't have my safety goggles on.”
Sukuna sighed, continuing to rub off the mess on your face. “You're not hurt, are you?”
“Nope!” Your confident response had your boyfriend chuckling as he wiped more of the foamy goop off your face.
After about five minutes of wiping and rinsing the rag, Sukuna sat on the tub's edge, examining your face. It was without the small amount of makeup you had on and the lighting of the bathroom that he stared at you. You were stunning, gorgeous in everything. But here in the bathroom, his eyes mapped out your face.
“What happened here?” he asked, fingertips pressing against a small scar under your eye.
Thinking it was food coloring, you turned to the mirror, seeing your bare face. “EH?!” You touched it, groaning as you looked back at your boyfriend, who was smirking. “You wiped off all my makeup!” For a second, Sukuna thought he was dealing with a third child in his apartment.
“Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want to have vinegar on your face?” You shook your head. “That's what I thought. So confess what happened there?”
“Acne scar.”
A soft him rumbled in his chest before he learned over, thumb grazing over a tiny scar at the bottom of your lip. “This?” gentle fingers moved up, brushing over your bottom lip as he stepped closer towards you.
“I-I fell off my bike.”
You swallowed hard, whimpering as Sukuna’s fingers grazed over your face. You were feeling how soft your delicate skin was. All of you mesmerized him. Every time you came over, he learned a little more about you. And god, he fuckin’ loved that.
His hands gently mapped your face out. The softness had you breathing heavily, his eyes glued to your lips. Having your boyfriend gaze over you with such a soft yet burning gaze had you shifting. The air in the bathroom became thick with need as he slowly slipped your tank top sleeve down.
“Y/N, let me see all of you. I want to map out your body and learn everything it has to say.”
“W-What’s gotten into you?”
The whisper tone of your voice had Sukuna sliding the other sleeve of your tank top down. “You. You’ve crept your way into my heart.” The confession that spilled from his lips has you leaning in, wanting him to touch you everywhere. The same way he had touched your face.
“Hey, is she okay?” Choso’s timid voice whispered through the door. “Yuuji’s worried.”
“Take Yuuji out for ice cream.” Your tank top is slowly pulled over your head. “My card is on my dresser.”
Silence spreads out as you tug Sukuna’s shirt up and off. “R-Really?” hands began working on jeans.
“Yes, I have my own project to work on.” Sukuna turned the shower on, and he never heard Choso collecting Yuuji so fast. Refusing to answer any questions as the door to the apartment slammed shut.
Sukuna’s antics had you giggling, licking your lip, and he stripped you completely. “A project, huh?” he nodded, following you into the shower.
“Yeah, but it won't be vinegar foam that covers that pretty face this time.”
Nanami Kento:
The hotel sheets were cold and crisp over your and your boyfriend's bodies. Between the chill and the heat Nanami was putting out, you felt so comfortable. It was the perfect combination that made you want to relish the feeling forever.
The sun was up, which meant you both would be going home soon. You both had been called out on a mission, one that took a bit longer to handle than you both were anticipating. You missed the last train back to Tokyo. Leaving you both stranded in Kawasaki for the night.
Instead of having one of the assistant supervisors drive all the way out to get you, you and Nanami decided to stay at a hotel. God, it was nice: room service, wine, a hot shower. Missing that last train was a reward for the two of you. Nothing more than relaxation and joy. But the moment Nanami pulled you tighter against him, you realized you didn't have your overnight bag.
Meaning you didn't have your makeup.
“Oh no, oh god no.” You whined as Nanami lifted his head.
“What’s wrong?” His groggy voice asked, trying to assess what was going on.
Burying your face in your pillow, you grumbled, cringing as you felt Nanami shift beside you. “I don't have my bag.” The covers move as Nanami props himself up.
“Your overnight bag?”
“Mhmm.”
Silence stretched out. “Did you need something out of it? Aspirin or tampons? I'll go grab you some.” The sincerity of his words made your heart soar. God, Nanami was the best boyfriend.
“No, no, I'm okay.” You shyly turned, swallowing hard. “I just realized you've never seen me without makeup.”
Nanami’s gaze was soft; honey-brown eyes slowly roamed over your face. He took his time, his hand reaching out, knuckles grazing your cheek. It was so gentle and sweet that you pressed yourself against his hand. The warmth spreads to every part of your body.
The bed shifts as Nanami’s hand cups your cheek, pulling you closer. “You are still as stunning in the morning bare-faced as you are all dolled up.” Before you could even think of what to say in response, his lips were on yours.
His lips were warm, like a spring day. You moaned happily, kissing him back as his hands slowly ran down your arms. Breaking the kiss, had you pouting with a displeased groan that shifted into a moan. Those warm lips slowly moved down your face. Nanami was trailing the softest, warmest kisses down your body, over your shoulders and upper arm.
“I want to see all of you.” Hot breath whispered over your skin. “See every part of you, body, mind, and soul in the raw.”
Soft kisses were replaced with gentle nips. The sensation had you arching your back as Nana crawled on top of you. His morning wood was pressing against your hip. It felt like you were melting into the mattress as the once-comfortable room suddenly became too warm. The need to get naked grew stronger and stronger.
“Kento~”
He didn't respond. He was too busy being love-drunk off of you. His fingers, lips, and teeth slowly mapped out every part of your body. Nanami’s actions left you a squirming mess underneath him. One that he was so pleased to see and feel.
Only once you were gasping for air, gripping his shirt, begging him for more, did Nanami finally pull back, taking his shirt off. “Every inch of you is the most beautiful thing that's graced this world, Y/N.” You sat up, pulling him into a starved kiss as he took your shorts off. Limbs entangling as he gently laid you down.
And yes, you missed the morning train. . .and the afternoon train. . .poor Ijichi had to pick you up.
#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk y/n#jjk#jjk reader insert#jjk men#jjk drabbles#reader jjk#jjk fluff#jjk gojo#reader x gojo#jujutsu gojo#gojo fluff#gojo x reader#gojo saturo#jjk choso#choso kamo#choso x reader#choso x y/n#choso fluff#jujutsu ryomen#sukuna x you#sukuna x reader smut#jjk gojo smut#sukuna au#ryomen sukuna#reader x nanami#kento nanami#jujutsu kaisen nanami#nanami x reader
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Breakfast
Husband!Joel Miller (no outbreak) x afab!Reader
Summary: Your usual Saturday morning routine with your husband takes a turn, for the better.
W/C: supposed to be 1k as per my celebration rules, but... it is now 2k... Oops... I’m sure y’all don’t mind😚.
18+ MDNI: Implied age gap (8 years per request hehe<3). Feminine pet names. Oral sex (reader recieving). Implied domesticity kink. Slight overstimulation, multiple orgasms. Soft Dom!Joel. Dom/sub undertones. Joel being a check-in king (safe word system in action, we love good communication). P in V unprotected. Breeding kink (y'all should expect this from me from now on LOL). ONE (1) USE OF "DADDY" (I had to, I'm not sorry). Sweet sweet aftercare.
A/N: This is in response to this request made by @survivingandenduring for my 1k follower milestone celebration. I remember you being one of the first to accompany me on my journey, and now that we're here together celebrating something I'm so humbly honored to experience, it feels so surreal. I love and appreciate your existence so so very much. Thank you.💚 I hope y'all enjoy!! (Pics for aesthetic purposes only)
MASTERLIST || L'S 1K CELEBRATION
Saturday mornings are your favorite. They’re lazy. They’re warm. They’re spent wrapped completely in the arms of your husband, Joel Miller. Whether it’s your lips or your limbs tangled in between the sheets—Saturday mornings are for you and him.
So when you woke up this morning to the other half of your bed colder than usual, you woke up with a frown. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you pull yourself to the restroom to brush your teeth and wash your face, not bothering to change out of your sleep clothes since you made Joel promise you that you guys weren’t going anywhere today.
“Darlin’?” His Southern twang calls out.
“In the bathroom, baby,” you respond, rubbing in the last of your face cream.
With a soft knock to your door, he’s entering, a crooked grin at the sight of you. You can’t help the grin that breaks across your face—no matter how long you two have been married, the bashfulness of two teenagers crushing on each other will never go away.
“Good mornin’, beautiful,” his gruff voice rasps, walking up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, his lips ghosting the sweet spot below your ear.
“Good morning, handsome,” you reply, leaning your body into his large, warm form.
“Come back to bed,” he whispers, his face burying itself deeper into the crook of your neck.
“Where’d you go?” You ask, not particularly liking the fact that you didn’t wake up with him this morning.
Joel turns you in his hold so you’re facing him now. “I’m sorry, my love, I thought I’d be quicker than I was,” he tells you, catching the tone of disappointment in your voice. “I went to make you some breakfast,” he admits. “Nothin’ fancy, I just- I wanted you to eat.”
You narrow your eyes at him, flashing him a small smirk. “What’s your motive, Miller?”
“Uh-” he stutters, not expecting that from you. “No motive, baby. What, a man can’t make sure his lady eats?” An exaggerated offensiveness evident in his inflection as he speaks.
“Please,” you giggle. “Every Saturday, like clockwork, I either wake up with your tongue, cock, or fingers inside of me,” you state matter-of-factly. “Why breakfast now?” you ask, your eyebrow quirked up, his signature look. You cross your arms over your chest for good measure.
Damn, you’re good. And damn, he’s so fucking in awe of you. “Fine,” he relents. “The last few times… after we’re done… you get super jittery and lightheaded. Like your blood sugar is low or somethin’. I dunno, I just, I don’t wanna be pulling so much energy from you, especially on an empty stomach.”
Your jaw would be on the floor right now if it wasn’t attached to you. Oh. My. God. You knew what you were getting into, marrying a Southern gentleman and an older one at that; and you knew just how considerate a lover Joel Miller was, but it never fails to leave your heart—and your pussy—fluttering at how attentive your man is. You are so damn lucky.
Going back to the room and settling on the bed, Joel climbs up beside you and feeds you your breakfast—one of your absolute favorite combos: a greek vanilla yogurt, your favorite granola, and chopped up fresh strawberries. You make this almost every morning, but something about him making it just makes it taste a thousand times better—leaving your body energized for what was next to come… because shit, did you need it.
“Joel,” you sob, tears falling from your eyes as they fight to stay open.
He lifts himself off your cunt, bottom half of his face shiny with your arousal. “Gimme one more, darlin’, then I’ll give you my cock,” he tells you, his heavy breath fanning across your spent center.
“Joel, I-” you whimper, “I can’t.” Your hips bucking into his face says otherwise. He taps your hip three times. Safe word? He silently asks. One tap for green, two taps for a yellow, three taps for red—an immediate stop. Your hand nearly ripping his curls out of his head softens, tapping his neck once as you attempt to gain your breath back, soft whines blessing his ears.
He nips the inside of your thigh before he speaks again. “You can,” and then he’s diving back in, tongue breaching your entrance as his nose rubs perfectly at your clit, hurtling you towards your third orgasm of the morning.
“Oh, fuck-” you nearly scream, head pushing into your pillow with your eyes clamped shut, back arching off the bed. Joel throws his arm across your lower belly, keeping you down and open for him as he licks you through your high.
Finally, he relents with a satisfied smile, placing a chaste kiss to your clit. “Knew you could give me another, my darlin’ girl.”
“Mmm, baby, please,” you say, reaching for his jaw to bring his face to yours. Not yielding to your touch completely, he brings himself up slow—the tip of his nose dragging up your naked body, Joel placing open-mouthed kisses up your belly, up your sternum, all the way to your lips, your arousal lingering with his own flavors in a deep, needy kiss.
“Tell me what you want, baby,” he says into your lips, nipping your swollen lip before pulling away to let you speak.
“N-need you,” you breathe, desperate. You bring your hands down to his boxer-clad bulge, your fingers causing him to twitch.
Joel tuts, pulling your hand away and bringing it up to the side of your head, his large hand holding it down. “And I need you,” he says, biting your lip again, “to use your words, baby. C’mon,” he urges. Outside of the bedroom, you are very outspoken—this morning’s interaction as evidence—yet, when you find yourself a writhing, moaning mess underneath him, all words are stolen from your brain, all the breath is stolen from your lungs.
“Please,” you start, more determination this time. “I need you inside me, Joel, please fuck me.” You hike your legs higher up, your thighs hugging his waist as you shift your hips, your wet center rubbing against him.
“Such a good girl f’me,” he praises, sitting up to guide his boxers down, leaving you with a complete unobstructed view of his tanned and toned naked body, his soft tummy turning the pupils of your eyes into hearts. He’s so fucking sexy, and, well fuck, you just said that out loud.
Joel blushes, leaning back over you to kiss your forehead and your lips before he’s lining himself up with you, his sensitive tip breaching your entrance at a slow pace, his girth thick enough to stretch you every single time in all your years of marriage.
Your eyes slowly shut as he kisses at your neck. The depth he’s able to reach as he slowly pumps in and out of you, the pubic hairs at his base rubbing against your clit, his deep groans making butterflies erupt in your belly—everything is utterly consuming your body, forcing your already sensitive body to your fourth orgasm of the morning fairly quickly.
Joel is rocking at a steady pace, one hand underneath your lower back while his other cups the back of your head, his fingers rooting themselves into the base of your hair and applying a slight pressure, knowing the sensation drives you absolutely wild. The moan that floats through the air is enough for Joel’s cock to twitch inside of you, threatening to release at any moment. With all his strength, he lifts his head up from your neck to hover above your own, reveling in the furrow of your brows and the needy gasps coming from your throat.
“Darlin’,” he rasps.
“Mhm,” you squeak, unable to form any words.
“Look at me,” he tells you, hips speeding up. He knows he’s only making it harder for you.
Your eyes slowly peel open, but your eyes immediately roll back, the pleasure making your mind go numb.
At your action, Joel is slowing, his hips coming to a near halt. That gets your eyes open. “J-Joel? Baby?” you call, your voice quivering with frustration. You were getting close.
“Need those pretty eyes on me, darlin’,” he explains, his hips only starting back up because of your eye contact.
“Y-yes, baby, okay,” you reply shakily, wanting to do anything for him to continue.
He moves in and out of you again, incorporating a delicious slow grind with every push in. The pleasure is too fucking much, and your eyelids are slipping again even though you’re trying with every ounce of your strength to keep your gaze fixed on him, you fail.
Again, his hips come to a painful stop. “Darlin’,” he warns. “You stop, I stop.”
“I-” you cry. “Joel, I can’t.” Tears pool at your waterline.
His hand comes to your face, his thumb catching the runaway tear. “You can, baby, and you will.” It isn’t a request.
You wrap your arms around his neck, keeping Joel as close to you as possible, his breathing keeping you grounded as you attempt to keep your eyes on his. Satisfied with your attempt so far, Joel starts moving, and this time, he completely lets go. Thrusting into you not too fast or not too slow—and he’s going hard, every push would make you slide slightly up the bed if he weren’t holding onto you the way that he is.
Your eyes flutter, not shutting completely but not staying open, and Joel makes a warning sound, his mouth spewing filth to keep you focused on him.
“Need to see those pretty eyes while you flutter ‘round me.”
“Don’t you wanna be filled? I know you want it—crave it.”
“Keep them eyes on me, babygirl. I’ll give you what you want, just lemme see you.”
“Fuck, Joel, please-!” you scream, your hips thrusting on their own accord, your climax shattering throughout your entire body.
“Thaaat’s it, baby, atta girl,” he moans out, the sensation of you sending his eyes nearly to the back of his head. “Fuckin- give it to me, baby, just like that.”
“Sh- shit, baby, fuck-” you cry, “please, Joel, please.”
“Please what, baby? Use your words,” Joel rushes, chasing his own release as he pushes you through yours.
“Please- please cum inside me, daddy, fuck- needa feel you,” you sob, your fingers gripping onto his back muscles, leaving bright red scratches in their wake as he rails you into the mattress.
“Yeah, baby? I’ll- oh, fuck-” he whines, his balls pull taut, his tummy muscles clenching, and within seconds, he’s cumming inside you, the sticky warmth covering every inch inside of you, leaking out of your entrance as he continues his movements, slowing himself down to a stop.
You two lay there for a moment, your chests heaving against each other. Joel places a kiss to your nose, then your lips, then he’s lifting himself off you, heading to the bathroom. You hear him start a bath.
He comes back after a minute, guiding you to sit up and make your way to the bathroom. He kisses your shoulder. “You alright, darlin’?”
You nod your head yes, a content smile across your features, eyelids heavy. He pulls your chin between his thumb and his forefinger, making you look at him. His signature scowl, the playful version, is on his face. Those damn words, baby, he’s telling you.
“I’m more than alright, baby,” you finally verbalize. “I love you.”
“I love you more, baby,” he kisses your cheek. “My darlin’ girl,” another kiss to your forehead. “My beautiful wife,” your other cheek. He continues on like that until he’s peppered your face in kisses, consuming your body with a love quite like no other. You’re a giggling mess by the time it’s over, begging for him to give you a second to breathe.
Only then when you two settle against each other in the warm, bubbly water, does he ask his burning question.
“Did, uh… did the breakfast help you?”
You take a moment to register how your body feels. It feels light. Not light as in lightheaded or weak—like previous weekends. No, you feel light, warm, content—you feel energized, like you can take on the world right now despite the fact that your legs are still made of jello. You feel good.
“Yeah,” you say. “Helped a lot.”
“Good,” he replies in success, kissing the top of your head before he starts massaging every part of you he can reach.
End note -
I love you, you beautiful humans 🫶🏼
Also, please check out the links highlighted in red on my pinned post to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help 🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.
divider in middle of fic made by me, vine graphic at top & bottom made my @/saradika-graphics
@pedrostories
#L's 1k follower celebration#endless thoughts fics#pedro pascal#pedrohub#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal smut#smut#pedrostories#drabble#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel x reader#joel miller fluff#joel miller one shot#joel miller x female reader#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#tlou smut
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heyyy, I've literally never requested before so I'm kinda nervous but...
could you write about getting eaten out for the first time with jjk men? reader is insecure and worried they won't like it??
Yes yes ofc <33 i luv writing this stuff ty anon
*･ﾟ✧ Munch City
tags: multi character x reader, fem! reader, oral (f! receiving) dirty talk, insecurity, first time, face sitting, doggy position, pussy! whipped choso because it's choso, slight massaging,
word count: 3.4k
MDNI
a/n: I'm soooo sorry this took forever!! the fire alarms have been going off 24/7 and it's been super annoying 😭 I made this a lil shorter than i'd wanted for times sake, I'm very sorry nonnie </3
⋆｡˚ ♡ Gojo: is gonna talk you through it step by step, and how it makes him feel doing it
You're sitting at the edge of your bed, legs spread open by Gojo's wide shoulders, with him grinning eagerly at the display in front of him.
He almost rolled his eyes at you when you first voiced your concerns, finding the mere idea of him *not* liking this ridiculous. But when he saw the hurt in your eyes from his reaction, he was quick to come back and reassure you that yes, he wanted to do this because yes, you are beautiful to him.
His eyes didn't miss the way you clenched around nothing at his praise, the grin he lost earlier creeping its way back onto his face as he started to come up with an idea. He pried your thighs back open as he leaned into your core, nose pressing against the top of your pussy as he pressed a light kiss against your clit.
The way his tongue flicked over your sensitive clit made your back arch up against him, hearing him chuckle against you. "That felt good, didn't it? When I lick your clit just like this" Gojo teased, sly eyes peering up at you as he flattened his tongue down against it, letting it drag down against you until the tip of it reached your hole. You covered your mouth with the knuckle of your finger as he hummed, the tip of his tongue circling around it gingerly.
You could feel the way Gojo was lapping up the wetness that came out of you, moving his tongue up inside of you while you muffled a cry into your hand, feeling him quietly groan against your cunt. "You're so sexy when you moan like that, makes my dick throb so hard." he dragged out his words as he lifted up your leg, placing it onto his shoulder before burying himself into your cunt and grinding his nose down against your now swollen bud.
Wet, thick swipes of his tongue made their way all across your cunt as he closed his eyes, panting for a few seconds before diving back in like a man who was starved. "Fuckin' love how you squeeze around my tongue, keep doing that, please," Gojo panted out, not wasting another moment before shoving his warm tongue back inside of you, the tip of it coming up to thrust against your g-spot. You cried out his name again as your hand shot down to grab at his hair, legs spreading wider to feel more of him.
The combination of Gojo's strong arms flexing, pinning your thighs down to the bed, and his messy tongue slurping and fucking your hole was making you dizzy, shuddering at how soaked Gojo's cheeks were when he pulled away to talk to you. He looked up at you with such a clouded-over expression, his bright blue eyes glittering through his thin, white lashes. Every moan you made only egged Gojo on further, your head tossing back as Gojo's mouth came to wrap back around your clit, groaning along with you and replacing his tongue with his slender middle finger.
"It taste g-good, 'toru?" You asked, your voice wavering as he nodded into you, making little 'mhm's and popping off of your clit to clean up more of your wetness. "Fuck yes, tastes so good honey, lemme keep doing this for you, please baby-" He begged, almost leaping back down on your cunt when you nodded.
⋆｡˚ ♡ Getou: makes you watch him jerk off while he’s grinding his nose into your clit
You're hovering above Getou's face, thighs being held apart while he licks his lips at how wet you are.
Though when his plea for you to lower yourself onto his lips already was met with nothing, he glanced up at your worried expression with a matching one. His hands glided down the smooth expanse of your thighs and rested just above your knees, giving them small rubs as you fiddled around with your nails.
Getou bit his lip as he felt himself twitch in his boxers in tandem with a stray drop of wetness flowing down your inner thigh, swallowing thickly as he attempted to remain composed for you. He knew that right now, what mattered most was your comfort, especially for your first time, even when you were looking unfairly hot above him like this.
"Turn around baby, lemme do something," Getou spoke, voice soft with arousal as he loosened his hold on your legs. You were reluctant, unsure what Getou was planning, but you complied either way, shuffling around until you were flipped to face the opposite wall of your bedroom. "Watch me," Getou instructed, your eyes fixated on his body lying flat against the bed. You stilled yourself as you watched his arm, making its way down to the bulge that you'd failed to notice until now.
Getou grinned at how you throbbed when he pulled his boxers down, sighing loudly with relief as he brushed his finger over his leaking tip, smearing pre cum over it while starting to pull your hips down towards his face. "See that? Look at how hard I am, all for your pussy." He whispered, making you shiver at how you could feel the vibration of his voice dancing along your skin, your back arched as you leaned your stomach down onto his neck, to avoid smothering his face with your butt.
"Fuck..." He murmured, pinching his thumb and pointer finger down onto his tip before thrusting his hand down, sticking his tongue out to gingerly lick at your exposed pussy. You squeaked in surprise, Getou taking the opportunity and shoving you down onto his face. You whimpered at the base moan that he let out, the hand wrapped around his cock quickly stroking it up and down while he messily started to eat you out.
You made a broken moan of his name as your hips were shoved back and forth across his face, eyes locked on how desperately he fucked into his fist at your taste. You spread your thighs open more so his tongue could get deeper inside you, gasping when it curled up against your slit and massaged your clit with the back of his tongue. You clenched down around nothing from the constant and intense stimulation, whimpering and moaning and crying out shamelessly as Getou's tongue lapped at your cunt.
His husky grunts and shuddering groans vibrated deliciously against you, making you ache with how turned on you were getting from all this. Anytime you tried pulling your hips up, his hand pushed down harder to keep you in place, your upper half bowing down in pleasure as the fast, slick sounds of Getou getting himself off fell in tandem with your moans.
⋆｡˚ ♡ Choso: tells you how much he loves your pussy while he eats
With a pillow underneath you, almost like Choso is serving you on a platter, your thighs are wrapped snuggly around Choso's neck.
You weren't able to hide your apprehension long, with how Choso was always looking up at you between your legs as his mouth made its way up your inner thighs. He noticed immediately how you seemed to want to look anywhere but where he was, peaking his head up and calling your name in concern.
Meeting his eyes made you relax, if only by a little bit, as you hesitantly asked Choso why he was doing this for you. Your question, when it managed to reach his ears, left Choso close to baffled. He could think of nothing else he should be doing for you, with how willingly you've taught him about pleasing you.
"I love you," Choso spoke, his voice full of certainty as he looked up at you. You blushed at his words, not expecting such a heartfelt statement as a response. "I'm in love with you. Of course, I'm gonna do this." He stated as if it was something so obvious he didn't need to point it out. "I...I love you too, but, are you sure you're gonna like it?" You asked again, feeling the words get stuck in your throat at the hungry way Choso was eyeing your cunt.
You gasped as Choso dived back down, nestling himself comfortably between your thighs, his hot breath passing up your cunt and making you shiver from how exposed you felt. "I love how good you look..." He breathed out, pressing sloppy kisses to your cunt while messily licking up any wetness clinging to your lips. You mewled into your hand as he continued. "Love how good you taste," Choso spoke, sounding like every second spent with his lips not on your cunt was a waste of his time.
The hand that once was covering your mouth now shot down to bury into Choso's hair, fingers curling around the dark strands as he let his eyes close in bliss from the taste of your pussy. "You're so good, looks so pretty down here," Choso mumbled, paying no mind to the harsh grip of your fingers in his hair as he put sloppy kiss after kiss against every part of your cunt. "Wanna make you feel good, I love this so much" The constant praise with the desperate sucks and grinds down into your opening made you moan helplessly, humping down into Choso's mouth and being met with his own grunts and whines of need.
"So good, so pretty, tastes so perfect," he chanted, his tongue curling to lick up every ounce of wetness that leaked out of you. More muffled moans of your name were heard as Choso buried himself into your sopping wet cunt, his thick tongue finding its way inside you and making you cry out loudly. "Give it t' me, please honey, I need it-" Choso begged into you, shaking his head as his nose harshly rubbed against your clit. Your voice was cutting itself off from how intense the pleasure Choso gave you was, tossing your head from side to side as you took everything Choso selflessly gave to you.
⋆｡˚ ♡ Nanami: gives your thighs a massage to relax you, slowly kissing upwards until his mouth is above your cunt
He has you face down, ass up against the comforter of your bed, spreading apart the fat of your thigh enough to get to your pussy.
He had thought this position would make it easier on you for your first time, with the lack of eye contact. But, he could still feel how stiff your body was under his touch, gasps of shock rather than pleasure leaving your lips whenever he let his fingers travel too close to your cunt.
Nanami's low voice cut through the tense silence surrounding you, your head whipping around to face him. You could feel how his hands were wrapped around the point between your ass and your thighs, not spread open anymore as you nervously glanced away. Nanami seemed to understand you without any words being said, gently pulling your knees apart before speaking.
"Relax for me, dear, there's nothing to worry about." He reassured, his gruff and low voice full of tenderness as he spoke to you. After watching your back smoothen out from the arch it was in, Nanami gently squeezed your thighs, working his thumbs in a downward motion to ease any tension that had built up in your body. Your head came up as Nanami placed a kiss on your lower back, your hips moving back against him slightly.
Nanami's hands seemed to work into your thigh with practiced ease, the slow, chaste kisses being planted across your lower back while his hands inched their way up your thigh to grope at your ass making you breathe shakily. You made a sound of surprise when you felt him push your cheeks apart, the warmth of his hands staying against your ass while your cunt was exposed to the cool air of the bedroom. "There she is..." Nanami's voice sent chills up from the base of your spine, the vibration of his voice making you squirm in his grip.
"I'm gonna use my tongue, is that ok, dear?" The curtness of his words sent a spike of arousal straight towards your pussy, forcing out a small 'mhm' before attempting to keep your body relaxed and pliant. "Ohh-" you let out, eyes shooting open as Nanami ran his tongue down your slit, taking his time to taste every inch of you before flicking his tongue across your puffy clit. Your eyelids fluttered as you pressed your hips back against his tongue, whining out when he pulled back from your wetness.
You only got a small kiss on your opening before he let his mouth roam back up, resting on your lower back and making small love bites against it. "Did that feel good, beautiful?" He asked, smiling against your skin when you shuffled against his body in response, a noise of complaint being muffled by the pillow underneath you. His middle finger slowly came to rest above your pussy, lifting up the hood of your clit while his ring finger made feather-light strokes against it. "Good, good.. we're gonna take our time tonight, understand?" He asked, stopping his hand until he got another needy 'mhm' from you. "Good girl."
⋆｡˚ ♡ Toji: makes you cum until you can't focus on being insecure
He's in the middle of tugging your panties off, kneeling between your legs while they're propped up on his shoulders.
When you quickly sat up and held his arm after he swiped your panties out under your foot, he was swift to stop and ask what was wrong. From seeing the fear in your eyes, he could almost think there was a monster in the room with you two, however silly that thought was. So you could imagine his initial confusion when you timidly asked if he really wanted to do this with you.
"Do I really wanna do this with you, huh?" He asked back, leaning his body weight down onto you as he stared into your unsure eyes with his own. "Am I sure I wanna eat your pussy? Make you get my face all messy with your cum? Is that what you're asking me?" His brash wording was making you get at a loss for words, staring up wide-eyed at him as he scoffed at his own questions.
Before you could backtrack on what you'd said, your body was suddenly effortlessly lifted up, your core now a hair's width from Toji's wide mouth. "I'll show you how much I want this, don't worry," was the only warning you'd gotten before he latched his lips down around your clit, sucking on it harshly while his hands were holding your legs spread open, knees resting on his shoulders as you let out loud moans from the rush of pleasure going through your body.
"T-Toji, ohmygod, please!-" you cried, your voice getting cut off by him pushing his mouth deeper onto your cunt, loud, obscene slurping being heard as he moved his tongue around, curling it just underneath your clit. His deep grunts sent vibrations through you, hips bucking up against his fat tongue as he inched it down inside of you. Moans and cries felt like they were being punched out of you from how Toji's mouth was pulling you apart at the seams, head shaking against your cunt as his nose ground down right above your clit.
The wet sounds of Toji eating your pussy mixed with your shaky and loud moaning made for an obscene ambiance of the bedroom, making your ears feel hot with embarrassment while Toji continued pulling whimpers and begs from your lips. "Tell me how good this feels, baby," He groaned, running his hot tongue up your cunt as you tried your best to obey his request. "F-fuckme, it feels so good To-ji, right there, yesyesyes," you mewled out, hands clambering around you to grab desperately at the sheets beneath you.
"Yeah, that's right, keep it up pretty girl. 'M not stopping anytime soon," Toji's smile held a sharp edge to it as he continued to shove his tongue against your sensitive pussy, holding your trembling thighs still as he thoroughly ate you out.
⋆｡˚ ♡ Sukuna: “shut up and lemme eat” Spreads you open and tells you everything hes gonna do to your pussy until youre begging him to touch you
Makes you hold your legs up to your chest while he's running his thumb up and down your slit
Sukuna bursts out laughing when you start to shy away at his touch, your voice hesitant when you speak about your worries. You're *nervous*? You had the King of Curses himself, between your legs, and you were nervous about him not liking this? The concept of that claim made him laugh until you looked away in embarrassment, face red.
He tsked at you, his thumbs coming to either lip of your pussy and pulling them apart. "Nah, don't look away from me," he spoke, his tone leaving no room for negotiation as you quickly looked back down at him. You whined at the feeling of being so exposed, lips pressing together at how close his mouth was to your cunt while he spoke to you.
That smile crossing Sukuna's face was enough to tell you that he had gotten an idea, one that would make you regret speaking out your concerns. "Yeah, you're right, maybe I'm not ready to eat you out yet." His eyes glimmered with joy at how your face morphed from confusion to upset in the blink of an eye. Before you could sputter out any apologies, he leaned closer toward you, keeping his eyes on yours before continuing. "I was gonna make you ruin your sheets too, what a shame you can't handle that."
You swallowed down a whimper at the visual your brain gave you at his words, watching him place his forearms onto the back of your thighs as he continued speaking. "I bet you'd be screaming my name too, I'd be fucking my tongue into you until you couldn't take it anymore." You couldn't hide the breathy moan that left your lips as the gears in your head turned, realizing what Sukuna had in mind. "Sukuna-" Your protests were cut off by the way his fingers crept closer towards your opening, waiting with bated breath on what he'd do next.
"Oh no, I understand, not all girls can handle it. You probably wouldn't want to get tongue fucked all night for your first time, right? And my fingers stroking your lil clit would be so much for you, too, we can't have that." Sukuna didn't stop with his barrage of dirty comments, his gravelly voice right above your pussy sending waves of arousal through you. You could practically feel everything he was describing, a surprised moan coming out when the tip of his thumb pushed against the soaked ring of your hole.
"So tight, too, you'd feel any little move I'd make. I bet you'd still feel tight even after I made you cream on my tongue, wouldn't you?" You moaned pitifully as the barest hint of stimulation was taken away, Sukuna's fingers returning to holding your lips open. "It's a good thing you stopped me before I started, thanks for warning me." The mocking sincerity of his tone made you throw your head back in frustration, whining out a plea as he looked up at you confusedly.
"What's the matter?" You weakly glared down at him, stifling another whimper as you throbbed yet again, pressure building up inside your core and making you ache desperately. "Aww, poor thing, you're so needy for me already. I bet it'd feel so much better if I touched you, yeah?" He asked, tongue lolling out in front of your cunt and making you whine hopelessly as you tried to grind your hips against it. A thin drop of saliva started to form at the tip of Sukuna's tongue, gathering and threatening to drip down onto your aching pussy before he slid it back inside his mouth.
"Ah ah, no whining, you chose this. Now, lemme tell you everything else I'm gonna do, won't you?" He chastised, feeling restlessness settle in your belly as you grumbled in defeat.
#jjk#jjk x reader#jujustu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#jjk fanfiction#gojo x reader#choso x reader#nanami x reader#sukuna x reader#toji x reader#geto x reader#choso kamo#geto suguru#gojo satoru#toji fushiguro#ryomen sukuna#nanami kento
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tw - flirting, good girl x bad boy, school setting but they are vv much 18+, suggestive, swearing
“How’s my favourite girl today?”
Your best friend tensed up from her seat in front of you. She had chosen to hide out in the stuffy school library to avoid exactly this. She had never been a huge fan of him, but his recent attempts to catch your attention had been grating on her nerves. The boy seemed obsessed with you, following you into the cafeteria and hanging around in the shop you frequented on your way home. Nothing but bad news followed him, and she needed to keep him away from her friend. You were a good student, perfect attendance and good grades - the last thing you needed was someone like him bringing you down.
“Fuck off, she doesn’t want to talk to you” she huffed at the man, “you’re not her type”
He chuckled, placing a hand on the back of your chair. Goosebumps travelled up your body. The musky scent of his aftershave permeated the air around you, settling in your lungs like a cloud. If you could bask in that scent forever you would. The top three buttons of his shirt were undone, tie loosely hung around it. Thin fabric did little to hide the muscle definition of his chest, slight but still very visible to you. And you couldn’t help but peer through the gap. His tan skin contrasted the crumpled white shirt beautifully. You felt your mouth go dry.
“Hmm, I’m not too sure about that one” his voice rang out.
“She seems very interested”
You jumped slightly as his face was far closer to you than you realised. If you were to turn your head slightly, your noses would be just touching. A warm flush flooding your body. You gnawed at your fingernail, peering up at the man next to you through your eyelashes. He dropped his eyelid down in a quick wink and set his sights back on your fuming friend.
“Why won’t you just leave us alone? She’s trying to study”
He tutted.
Next thing you knew the pressure of a wide hand was resting on your shoulder - making you freeze on your seat. The feeling of his warm, calloused palm on your shoulder did nothing to cool your feverish body and you tried desperately not to gasp. In through your nose, out through your mouth, you tried to remind yourself. You couldn’t let him fluster you - then he would be winning.
A warm chuckle sounded from above you. The palm on your shoulder travelled towards your face, lithe fingers gripping your chin gently. He curled his index finger and dragged the knuckle up the soft skin of your throat. It was like you were frozen in place but your body was squirming under your uniform. His actions left you breathless and you couldn’t help but feel he knew exactly what he was doing to you. If the way his eyes trailed up your legs, thighs clenched together under your skirt, was any indication. Soft lips stretched into a smirk.
Leaning forward once again, his eyes met yours under a piercing gaze. He let out a teasing coo in your direction.
“Oh I'm sorry pretty girl, did I scare you?”
- ATSUMU, tsukki, oikawa, SUNA, tanaka (hear me out), kuroo, gojo, KOJIRO, adam, bakugou, SHINSOU, dabi
#haikyuu x reader#bnha x reader#mha x reader#sk8 the infinity x reader#jjk x reader#atsumu x reader#tsukishima x reader#oikawa x reader#suna x reader#tanaka x reader#kuroo x reader#gojo x reader#sk8 joe x reader#joe x reader#kojiro nanjo x reader#sk8 adam x reader#ainosuke shindo x reader#bakugou x reader#shinsou x reader#bakugo x reader#shinso x reader#dabi x reader#dabi imagine#bakugou imagine#shinsou imagine#bnha drabble#haikyuu drabble#jjk drabble#sk8 drabble#oikawa imagine
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Theodore Nott Headcanons
Warnings: Theodore / Asshole? | Mentions of Oral Sex / (female receiving) | Sex (P in V) | Fingering | Me Ranting | Curse Words | Let me know if I missed something?
Fem!Reader
Author’s Notes: Kinda realistic, but you have to be a little delulu with the Slytherin boys. FIRST POST!
Proofread, but there's probably still mistakes.
Mattheo Riddle Headcanons
Lorenzo Berkshire Headcanons
Blaise Zabini Headcanons
Tom Riddle Headcanons
Draco Malfoy Headcanons
Masterlist
Minors DNI | 18+
___
Theodore Nott | Physique
6’5 - 6'6 | Sorry, he’s just super tall in my head. I'm a tall girl so let me have this.
Lean, but lanky? He's in the in-between stage.
He doesn’t have a lot of muscle, but you can still see muscle?
He's a little insecure about his body, especially since Mattheo and Lorenzo are more on the buff side.
Would never go to the gym though, he only works out during Quidditch.
Resting bitch face, but I feel like this is established.
HOT AS FUCK! HOT! I MEAN HOT AS FUCK! | Shameless Theo girl. SHAMELESS! |
Theodore Nott | Personality
He’s an asshole, but he’s funny. He’s more on the quiet side, but once in a while, he’ll say something witty that’ll make everyone in the room laugh.
Don’t get into an argument with him. He has a comeback for everything. It’s actually really fucking annoying.
So blunt. He won’t share his opinion unless asked or if it’s important to him but don’t ask him unless you want the complete and total truth.
Plays the piano and guitar.
He loves books. He reads a lot of romance, but he would never share that with anyone.
He’s very smart. He studies a little here and there, but mostly he just understands everything naturally. He doesn’t even really have to pay attention that much in class. Something else that’s really fucking annoying.
I feel like he's not amazing at DADA. He's not bad at it, but he gets in his head sometimes and will mess up.
He’s a homebody, but he’ll go out to parties every once in a while. Mainly to hang out with his boys and keep up appearances.
He’s prideful. He comes from a good family and he likes to make his presence known.
A chaser in Quidditch and is ALWAYS showing off. It pisses Draco off so much.
He smokes, but not a ton. I’d say a pack every 2-3 days.
Smokes weed though. He’s not reckless with it, but if he’s at a party or relaxing without shit to do? He’s lighting up.
Eats SO MUCH. Especially when he's high. He is always in the mood for food.
Theodore Nott | Casenova
He does have a lot of sex, but it’s usually one woman for a couple of weeks. He doesn’t talk to her outside of their meetups and will (and has) embarrassed a couple of women who even thought it was okay to approach him.
He’s an ASSHOLE!
The reason why these women keep crawling back? Theodore Nott fucks you like he loves you. He’s so attentive.
A MUNCH! Theodore Nott is a munch, through and through. He's so good at it too.
It's because he speaks Italian. Anyone who speaks the tongue of romance also speaks the tongue of absolutely devouring some pussy. I know that's not true for all, but let me DREAM!
He's also skilled with his fingers. | Piano and guitar player. Duh. |
As previously mentioned, this man is prideful. He will spend hours on a woman pulling out every sound, causing every jolt, and basking in the way they scream his name because it feeds his ego.
He's not doing all of that because he cares, he just likes knowing he's good at what he does. And he is good.
He’s a dom, and he is ROUGH, but he talks them through it the whole time. SO MUCH PRAISE!
This pussy is mine, toria. All fucking mine. There isn't a single man on this Earth who deserves to feel you like this.
I know, baby. Just cum on my cock one more time. That's all I need. Let me feel you just one more time.
Fuck, bella, you make me feel so good.
He'll have them thinking their vag was crafted by Aphrodite herself, meanwhile he's pulling these lines on every woman he fucks.
And when he starts speaking Italian? These women EAT IT UP!
I might be a strong woman, but I'd let this man use me too.
They eat him up too. Not just figuratively. It's become a guessing game for the boys trying to figure out who his hickey came from.
Theo isn't one to kiss and tell. He just smirks and lays his head back, exposing his hickey covered neck as his friends keep asking questions they'll never get the answers to.
And after sex? He’s the perfect, sweet lover. So time after time these women come crawling back despite how he treats them in public and he uses them over and over again.
Then he gets bored, he moves on to the next woman, and the cycle repeats.
Theodore Nott | Friend
Closest to Mattheo and Blaise
Talks a lot more around his friends. Jokes left and right.
Always doing some dumb shit. Pranks with Mattheo? His favorite pastime.
He likes going out with his boys, being reckless, blowing his money, and just being young.
He loves his friends because they remind him what it’s like to be free.
He’d never admit it to any of them, but meeting them was one of the best things that ever happened to him.
His friends (Aka Draco and Lorenzo) are bullies, but he couldn’t be bothered with that. He’s more of a fuck around a find out type of guy.
Yes, I believe Lorenzo Berkshire is an asshole. Please don’t come for me. Or do.
He takes care of his friends silently. He won’t ask them how their day is, but he’ll show up with their favorite things whenever he notices them feeling bad.
Very attentive. He is very in tune with the needs of the group.
Theodore Nott | Boyfriend
UGH, I LOVE THIS PART
He is used to being an asshole toward women so he’s not sure how to navigate his first relationship
Gift Giving and Acts of Service
He doesn’t know how to properly express his feelings so he just buys you shit and does stuff for you
PRINCESS TREATMENT
I’m talking back rubs, foot rubs, | If you want that. I know some people have a feet thing. | putting on your shoes, zipping up your dress, washing you in the shower or bath, doing your hair, carrying you when your feet hurt. Something broke? He’ll fix it. You need something? Baby, I’ve got it.
He serves you first in the great hall. He puts your food on your plate first and makes sure you have all of your favorites. He likes to give you food. He likes to eat so he likes it when you eat.
Buys you flowers. He always keeps a flower from the arrangement so he can tell when yours is about to die.
Dates 2-3 times a month.
Always buying you gifts. He will FORCE you to take them. Why should I not spoil you?
He can be a little misogynistic when it comes to taking care of you.
He's more of a feminist. He doesn't give a shit and thinks women can do whatever they want. However, some gender roles are just ingrained in him.
Do not try to pay for dinner. Don't try to pay for anything while you're out with him. Do you want these people to think I can't take care of my girl?
Will not let you carry anything heavy. In private he might let you get away with it if you argue, but not in public. He's a man and it's his job to act like the man. | I don't mind men like this too much. Like I'm an independent woman, but I'm also a damsel in distress. Please do everything for me.
Anything his baby wants his baby gets. He has a big protector/provider mindset. He will do anything for you because you’re precious and you shouldn’t have to do anything yourself.
Teddy, I’ve got it.
I know, cara mia, but let me do it.
His hands are always on you. Physical Touch.
When you first start dating it’s subtle. Hand on your back, hands grazing in the hallways.
He can be a little possessive. Or a lot.
He used to fuck the girlfriends of the guys he didn’t like so he doesn’t like when guys come around you. He keeps you close as a way to claim you.
Toxic
When he gets more comfortable around you it’s a hand on your waist, arm around your shoulder, occasionally smacking your ass.
He’s a thigh guy, but he appreciates everything. Boobs, butt, thighs, neck, arm, whatever. The female body is beautiful and he loves every inch.
Greets you in the hallways by putting his arms around you from behind.
Neck. Kisses. Always kissing your neck. Licking your neck. Biting your neck.
Kisses you like it’s the last time he’ll ever see you. Sometimes it looks like he's swallowing you, your friends think it's kinda gross.
Walks you to each and every class and makes out with you before them
He just loves to spend time with you.
Quality Time
As I mentioned before, he’s a homebody. He loves just staying in with you. After your last class, he always goes to your dorm or you go to his. Study together. Astronomy Tower dates.
He follows you around like a lost puppy. He’s so lover-boy-coded.
He didn’t pay attention to the girls before you, but he has no problem giving you his full attention whenever and wherever you need it. Call him a simp? He doesn’t care. That’s his girl.
He can be a little controlling sometimes. He likes to know where you are, and who you’re with.
He walks you everywhere. You’re meeting up with your friends after he spent two hours railing you against a wall? He’s walking you the whole way, he can't miss a second of you.
And afterward, he always gives you a kiss and a hug goodbye. I’ll miss you, amore. Like you two won’t see each other in a couple of hours. Then he'll keep pulling you closer to him every time you try to break free because he needs just one more kiss.
He’ll always make you late. Sometimes it's because he is smothering you in kisses. Other times, he spends a good ten minutes holding you and telling you how much he loves you. Words of Affirmation.
Once Theodore Nott is fully and completely comfortable in his love with you he will NOT shut up. He can be so cheesy too, he comes up with the most eye-roll-inducing stuff.
I know I won't make it to heaven, but at least I was given a taste before I go.
I think someone might have stolen the stars and put them in your eyes.
Then there's the unhinged cheesy ones.
Why should I waste time studying herbs with the power to heal wounds when the only healing power I need is right in between your legs?
Are you the witch who lost her broom? I couldn't find it, but I have something else long and hard that you can ride. I've heard it can last all. night. long.
ON AND ON. HE WON'T STOP.
Then of course you have his more serious declarations of love. Usually when you're sleeping because whenever he tries to say this stuff when you're awake he feels like his heart is about to backflip into his ass.
When I look at your face, I feel as if the sun finally rises. My world fades from dark to light and in that moment; and only in that moment, I find happiness. I am not a good man, I don't know what I did in life to deserve you but I promise to spend every second making sure I'm worthy of keeping you.
| Alright, that was a little cute. Maybe a little too cheesy, let’s move on. |
Theodore Not | Committed Lover
Tongue shoved in between your legs 24/7. On his knees in the closet, with you above him sitting on a desk, laying down between your legs, you sitting on his face. Anytime, anywhere he is tasting you like it’s the last thing he ever could do.
He is so good with his fingers. | Once again guys, he plays piano and guitar. | Fast fingers working you open every chance he gets.
Seriously every chance he gets.
He loves fingering you in the middle of class, by the lake, in the hallways, and anywhere in public. | With your consent of course.
I SAID IT ONCE AND ILL SAY IT AGAIN! ROUGH!
He loves doggy. Having you bent over while he smacks your ass raw and dicks you down like a fucking animal.
I mean leg up, holding you back by the ties around your wrist while he thrust his huge ass cock | At least 8 inches and THICK | into your SOAKED and achy cunt because you know he took his TIME getting you ready.
Literal hours sucking on your clit while he fucked you with his nicely long and thick fingers
Now he’s pounding into you at an unthinkable speed while you’re screaming, tears running down your face, and mind going blank as he fucks you dumb.
He lets you ride him sometimes. He loves seeing you on top, but he still never fully gives you control. He keeps his hands firm on your waist or ass and you can never get away with teasing him for long before he holds you in place and fucks into you like a man possessed.
He likes the soft stuff too.
Hands holding onto your hips as he grinds his cock into your pussy.
Head stuffed into your neck as he continuously moans. I could stay here forever. You’re all I need.
___
A/N: Overall, Theo is a toxic asshole but it’s okay because he magically becomes the perfect gentleman (not really) when we start dating him.
#Theodore nott#Theo nott#Theodore nott x reader#Theodore nott headcanons#Theo nott headcanons#Theo nott x y/n#Slytherin boys#Theodore nott smut#Theo nott smut#slytherin boys smut#Mattheo riddle#lorenzo berkshire#tom riddle#blaise zabini#draco malfoy#slytherin#harry potter#mattheo riddle smut#draco malfoy smut#lorenzo berkshire smut#Blaise zabini smut#tom riddle smut
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Faster Than Healing Magic
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, angst, injury, hurt/comfort, cuddles, soothing kisses
Word count: 0.6k
A/N: Haven't done angst yet and I wouldn't be me without writing angst.
You kept a smile on your face while Alastor chatted with Charlie, Vaggie and Lucifer, partially complaining about his, and your, new tower, the bedroom, pretty much everything. He was being petty as fuck. Which meant he wasn't doing as bad as you thought he was.
Still he wasn't doing great either.
"Do not give me those big, sad eyes darling. This is but a scratch." He boasted as he got changed for bed. The cut was still bleeding and it looked quite deep. "No hugs for your hero? I thought held my own pretty well." So he said but from his slightly tilted ears you knew he didn't feel that way entirely.
It was more then just his body that got hurt, it was also his ego. Alastor had that in spades. And while you can't really do anything about that problem you can do something about the cut across his torso.
"Alright mister tall, red and spooky, get on the bed." You pointed at it expectedly.
"Oh-ho! So we are having that kind of celebration are we?" Alastor wiggled his eyebrows at you, "I'm not particularly in the mood but I suppose surviving a big battle would constitute some-" You took him by the hand and pushed him to sit down, his deer tail moving in excitement. "Aggressive."
You felt your face and neck flushing. It wasn't fair that he could tease you like this at times like this. "Not that! And you called me a pervert. I want to bandage your injury. Clean it too, no way am I letting it get infected on my watch."
He sat on the bed cross-legged on the bed, humming a tune that was way too cheerful for someone in his current perdicament. But if he wasn't doing that and smiling then you would really be worried.
This was a good sign.
You came back with bandages for him and sat in front of him, leaning in close to first clean and stitch up the wound. As your fingers approached him you glanced up, confirming that he was okay with your touch. He was always sensitive about that so you thought it was better safe then sorry. Whatever he did to treat this cut it was very sloppy. Probably because he wanted to get back as soon as possible.
He had so many smaller cuts all over his body, his chest, back, stomach, arms, legs, even his neck. You can't imagine the kind of life he lived before this and he would never tell you the stories of these scars. What little you did know of him when he was alive was information he shared willingly during pillow talk.
What surprised you, and alarmed you, was that he never flinched while you worked on the stitching. He seemed like he was enjoying it.
"All clean and sowed up. Put your hands up for me, I need to get this all the way around." Alastor didn't protest, he grinned wider when you had to be face to face with him to get the bandages on tight enough, "Not too tight?"
"Not at all. Thank you for your hard work darling. But you know I don't mind a little blood." Alastor patted his chest, examening your work. He seemed pleased enough despite his protests.
You cringed, "But I do, Al, I don't want blood all over the bed, or me." It seemed like it would be quite the gruesome sight to wake up to. Shivering from the images in your head you made him scoot up to his spot as you took yours, right next to him, your head against his chest. "If you're in pain wake me up. Promise me."
"Of course, I promise. You really do worry too much over me. I am much tougher than I look, you'll see, by tomorrow morning this will be but a scar and a memory." Alastor kissed the crown of your head softly, he was always soft and gentle with you in moments like these.
"I hope so." At least you knew the full story behind this scar, and maybe someday he'll tell you about the rest.
#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel imagine#alastor imagine#hazbin hotel fanfiction#alastor fanfiction#hazbin hotel fluff#alastor fluff#hazbin hotel x you#alastor x you#hazbin hotel#alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#x female reader
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special brownies [weedrry]
summary: harry and y/n accidentally eat their roommates special brownies.
warnings: mentions and use of weed (edibles), being high, swearing, kissing, biting, unprotected sex, bit of dirty talk.
word count: 2,396
a/n: i came up with this idea very randomly and i have written it as fast as i possibly could lmao anyway, the whole thing is about accidentally getting stoned, so if that makes you uncomfortable, please don't read! if it doesn't, enjoy <333
//
It’s been a long week and Y/N is feeling it. Between classes and shifts at the cafe, her feet are sore and her mind is tired. She wants nothing more than to cuddle up on the sofa with a good tv show and pass the fuck out.
And tonight is supposed to be her lucky night. Tom has a night shift and Harry has a hot date. No boys, no roommates, no interruptions.
There’s just something about knowing she’s got the flat to herself all night long, and she can lounge about like the lazy girlie her heart yearns to be.
She starts with a long, relaxing her aching body in the hot soapy water until her skin begins to prune. Y/N takes extra time to moisturise her body and brush her hair. Even treats herself to a face mask while she does so.
When she leaves the bathroom, it’s almost 7 p.m. and Tom has already left for work. The apartment is clean, and most importantly, quiet.
She’s a bit too excited in her movement to the sofa, a squeal slipping from her lips. Too caught up in her head, she doesn’t notice Harry leaning against his bedroom door, arms folded across his chest.
It’s not until he clears his throat that Y/N jumps out of her little happy dance with a scream. A smirk sits on his lips, amused by the way she scowls at him.
“What the hell are you doing here! You’re supposed to be out on a date!”
Her tone is accusing, pointer finger jabbing at the air in his direction. She notices his attire; grey shorts and a white hoodie. Y/N’s shoulders slump.
“You have got to be kidding me,” she huffs.
“What? I thought you liked hanging out with me?” Harry follows her to the sofa, sitting on the opposite end of her.
Y/N crosses her arms furiously. “I do! But I was so excited to have the flat to myself for just one night.”
Harry’s brows are raised suggestively, that sick fucking smirk on his lips again. Y/N lunges a pillow at his face. “Not for those reasons, you perv.”
He barks out a laugh, hugging the pillow close to his chest as he props his feet up and on Y/N’s lap. He watches how her bottom lip pouts out and his face softens.
“Look, if you want me to fuck off out for the evening, I can.” Harry offers.
She scoffs. “That is what you were supposed to be doing.” A moment of silence passes and she sighs. “Sorry, that came out rude. I'm not about to kick you out of your own flat – though I am going to force you to watch the last three episodes of The Rookie with me.”
Harry makes no attempt to hide the groan that follows her words. It’s not that he doesn’t like the show, it’s that he hates the show. He’ll never understand Y/N’s weird obsession with emergency services.
First, it was Criminal Minds, then a month later she binge watched 9-1-1 Lone Star in six days. Now she’s on the newest season of The Rookie and he’s sure she only started season one at the beginning of the month?
“Do we have to?” he grumbles.
Y/N throws another pillow at him. “Yes. You’re the one interrupting my night, you could at least do it quietly… and with snacks.”
Her voice trails off at the end of her sentence and Harry has to bite back a grin. She could never be mad at Harry, she loves him and his company far too much. Tom, on the other hand… yeah, she would definitely be mad if it was him crashing her lazy girl night.
Harry stands from the sofa, wandering through to the kitchen. He grabs two bottles of water in one hand and scans his eyes through the cupboards in search for a suitable snack.
They’ve not been shopping for a few days, so there’s only some dry crackers, a half-eaten bag of cashew nuts (ew, Tom), and granola. Harry contemplates ubering some cookies and milkshakes when his eyes land on a bakery box on top of the microwave.
He squints as he reads the writing on the top of the box.
Tom’s. DO NOT EAT!
Harry flips the lid, six thick slices of dewey chocolate brownies. They’re like fucking slabs… he’s sure Tom won’t mind if he and Y/N share just one between them.
He pops a (massive) slice on a plate and toddles back to the kitchen. The show is paused on the opening scene, Y/N shuffled to get comfortable on the sofa. She raises a brow at the snack in question.
“We’re sharing a brownie?”
Harry huffs as he sits. “S’all we’ve got in the kitchen, and they’re Tom’s. Didn’t wanna take the piss when his little sticky note clearly says DO NOT TOUCH!”
Y/N snorts, breaking the brownie in half and handing Harry the bigger slice. She takes a bite, face screwing slightly.
“These taste a little funny… nutmeg, maybe?”
She turns to Harry who doesn’t say anything and still hasn’t taken the brownie. The look on his face irks her. She huffs, swallowing. “I feel bad that your date cancelled on you.”
His eyebrows almost raise to his hairline. “And what makes you think she was the one to cancel?”
“Was she?” Y/N asks.
Harry takes the brownie with a sigh. “Yeah.”
//
They can’t stop fucking giggling.
The show is long forgotten about, has been for the past thirty minutes. They’re both feeling warm. Harry stripped from his jumper and Y/N changed into some little shorts and one of Harry’s baggy t-shirts.
Neither of them know where this amusement came from, but there is absolutely no calming either of them down. They’re sneakily sharing a second slice of Tom’s brownies; eyes on the door in case for some reason, he comes home an hour after his shift has started.
“They taste so weird, but I can’t stop eating it.”
Harry chokes out a laugh, eyes welling with tears because he just finds Y/N so fucking funny tonight.
She’s a mess too, eyes squinted and shoulders hunched as she laughs uncontrollably. They’re both crossed-legged on the living room floor, knees knocking gently.
The more she chews, the more she begins to recognise that unfamiliar taste… the way it lingers on her tongue. Her laughter slows for a moment, as if realisation is beginning to dawn on her.
She stares at Harry with wide eyes and parted lips, mouth still full.
“Oh, my god.”
“What?”
“They’re fucking weed brownies!”
Harry can’t breathe, struggles to look away from the fear and shock on Y/N’s face. His whole body begins to shake with laughter and Y/N finds herself following.
“Harry, it’s not funny!” she shrieks. “This is so bad, Harry.”
She’s laughing through her words. Even she can’t take herself seriously in this state.
“D’you wanna play Just Dance?”
Harry’s words only make her laugh harder. The remainder of her brownie is thrown at his naked torso. Harry wastes no time to tackle her to the ground, hovering between her legs as he tickles her sides.
He's blowing raspberries on her neck, eliciting loud cackles from her mouth. Y/N tugs at his hair, her legs flailing around his hips when he nips at the skin on her throat.
They don’t say anything. She continues to chuckle, and Harry continues to bite.
Their laughter has fizzled out into breathy giggles. Neither of them are sure when Harry’s bites turned into kisses. When their fingers became intertwined. When her legs closed around his middle.
And neither of them say a fucking thing about it.
Harry’s lips travel up her neck and across her jaw. She finds his mouth feverishly, nothing but tongue and teeth but to the pair of them, it’s the best kiss they’ve ever had.
They’re needy, hot and wanton all of a sudden. Like a switch has been flipped and they’re clinging to one another like lifelines.
Harry holds her hands above her head, fingers tangled. He’s hard, rock hard. Pressing into Y/N’s tiny fucking shorts so much he’s sure he can feel her arousal through both of their clothes.
He ruts against her, testing the waters. The moan he receives sends all blood down south. He’s always known sex to be incredible when you’re high. The thought of him sharing it with her? God, he could bust there and then.
He releases her hands so he can feel up her thighs, skin hot and smooth. Their lips don’t separate, not once. She lets her hands fall into his curls, nails scratching at his scalp and she tugs at the roots.
Harry’s moaning into her mouth, eager and desperate for more. He takes her shorts off quickly and strategically. So quickly that she doesn’t notice until she feels a cool breeze between her thighs.
Y/N’s eyes roll to the back of her head, more than ready for whatever the fuck he wants to do to her.
They haven’t hesitated, not once. Not until Harry's hands are at the waistband of his shorts and he wonders if he should grab a condom or just go down on her. He knows she’s on the pill, just like they both know they’re both clean.
Harry gets tested once a month and Y/N doesn’t sleep around.
She answers his inner turmoil for him and tugs his shorts down the best she can. Harry breaks the kiss for a split second to tug his shorts to his knees. He’s back to kissing her as quickly as he pulled away, tongue against hers. Hot and messy.
Y/N feels his tip twitch against her clit, an airy sigh echoing into Harry’s mouth. He lets his fingers swirl around her wetness, smearing it across her smooth cunt and coating his thick shaft in her arousal.
They’re panting messes, eager, desperate and horny.
When he lines himself at her entrance, she locks her legs around his waist. Harry bumps forward, a shrill cry slipping from between their lips at the sensation of one another.
Harry wants to give her a moment to adjust, but Y/N doesn’t. She wants it hot and hard. She wants the pain. She wants to feel every fucking inch of him.
She probably should’ve warned Harry how she gets when she’s high. How much of a whiny, cock-hungry whore she can become. Then again, how was she supposed to know they’d accidentally eat their roommates special brownies?
“Jesus fucking Christ.” Harry chokes as he bottoms out.
Y/N’s struggling to catch her breath but she’s never loved the burn in her lungs more. “Fuck me, H.”
He twitches inside her. “Fuck me hard.”
His hips begin to roll, cock nuzzling itself deep inside her. He can feel everything. Every bump, dip, swell. God, she’s fucking soaked, leaking down to the floor but neither of them care.
Harry slowly begins to quicken his pace, arms bent at the elbows either side of Y/N’s head to prop himself up. She doesn’t loosen her legs around his hips. She needs him as close as he can possibly get.
Even his cock buried to the brim in her cunt isn’t enough. She needs his soul touching hers.
“You’re so fucking tight.”
“Yeah?” she breathes. “You gonna fuck my tight cunt, baby? Fuck me like you own me.”
He can’t believe his fucking ears. He’s always found Y/N attractive, but never in his wildest fucking dreams did he expect her to be this goddamn filthy.
Harry loves it.
His thrusts grow harsher. She has no time to catch her breath between hits, her mouth in a constant state of slack – eyes rolled back and eyebrows pinched.
“My perfect little cunt.” Harry seethes.
The noises of her pussy are like electric waves in Harry’s ears. He feels them in his soul, like sparks and jolts. He’s never felt more alive.
He’s fucking into her manically. Behind closed eyes all he can see shapes and colours of need and desire. Sex has always been good, always been great high. But this? Fuck, he’s never felt something so otherwordly.
He never wants it to end, wants to spend the rest of his life fucking her like a whore. She’s tugging his hair, likely making his scalp bleed but he loves it. He’d bleed a fucking river just to feel her cunt around him again.
“I’m gonna come!”
Her words awaken something animalistic within Harry. Like his life depends on feeling her release around him – like it’s what he was born to experience.
He chases her high, nipping and suckling on her neck, fucking into her cunt as fast as his restrained hips will allow. Y/N’s a blubbering mess, a sight Harry never wants to forget.
Fuck, he doesn’t think he could if he tried. This will forever be etched into his mind – her face, her body, her perfect cunt. Jesus, he’s never been so into sex in his life.
Her body begins to tremble uncontrollably, legs locked tight around his middle as she cries his name and pours over him.
Harry’s gruff and desperate moans mix with hers. She’s impossibly tighter, squeezing him; begging him to never let her feel anything but full ever again.
Harry wants to die buried in her cunt.
It takes every single fucking ounce of willpower he has to pull out and release across her thighs – painting the filthiest picture anyone could imagine.
It’s a struggle for either of them to catch their breaths. Hot and heavy panting that soon turns into light laughter, that even sooner, turns into contagious giggles.
Their bodies shake with every chuckle, Harry’s mouth ghosting hers until he nips on her bottom lip.
“We are never to talk about this, understood?”
He grins widely. “Whatever you want, Princess.”
She hums, eyes full of lust. Harry’s still achingly hard, despite coming more than he ever has before. He dips his head to her neck, sucking at her soft skin. His cock twitches against her thigh and she breathes deeply, blinks slowly.
“You wanna go again?” his voice is muffled by her neck.
She grins, legs wrapping back around his middle.
“Whatever you want, baby.”
#harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles smut#harry styles x you#harry styles x reader#imagine harry styles#harry styles oneshot#harry styles fluff#harry styles fic#harry styles angst
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