#swooning fainting crying
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all in a day’s work, L-lestappen anon, so just for you and blorbo, imagine this… (taking inspo from our lord and saviour findae from here, if that’s okay!) also this is very crazy, long, and bad because i’m a miserable human being who can’t do anything but angst/comfort
lorenzo single (girldad, because duh) father and stocky-thighed, loudmouthed max who’s born to be a stepfather, i mean have you seen him with penelope? anyways it’s the british GP. lorenzo is proud brother turned father of of arthur, who wins the feature race there, the same weekend carlos wins his first grand prix, like ever. (but this time carlos isn’t looking for max, this isn’t toro rosso, they’re not those guys anymore—he’s looking for charles.)
anyways…max has what could be considered his worst performance of the season so far that wasn’t a DNF…and comforting girldad lorenzo is just right there…visiting with his little girl who probably thinks max personally put the moon in the sky…lorenzo’s just like “si, bambina, this is max!” and max is just like oh my god she’s just so—she’s already halfway up his hip and he’s grinning, he’s forgetting about his disaster of a performance. she’s already taking his hat that, before, seemed stapled to his head.
night falls and she’s still there, sleepy and stuck to him like glue—which allows loronzo, who’s usually so, so, serious, to have a drink or two, nothing serious, just bubbly, but he’s laughing anyway and his cheeks are red. he’s shimmies up to max, pressing his pretty lips to his ear and he’s like “i haven’t seen charles anywhere!” and max’s face is thunder, just for a moment. so lorenzo’s just like ok whatever i’m pretending like i didn’t see that give me daughter back! but max is like no bro she’s just sooooooo cute i can’t! and they go back and forth until lorenzo, the mature one of the two, is like you know what i’m going back to the motorhome she needs sleep and idgaf if you’re coming or not she’s going, now. so they both go, waking slowly under the lights as to not wake her. something something they put her to rest and it’s just quiet, everything is muffled. lorenzo’s not exactly looking at him while he’s stroking her hair—jet black like his, curlier though—he’s not saying anything either, he’s just sighing and telling her he loves her.
anyways, after, when they’re outside in the cold, lorenzo, not trying to pry is like, ever so softly “you and charles…?” but max isn’t having it he’s just like doesn’t matter, your daughter is so cute did you know that? he’s trying to think about literally anything else and he doesn’t even understand why instead of looking over lorenzo’s head (he’s much shorter) so he doesn’t have to look him in the eyes, he’s looking at his mouth. he doesn’t really get why he feels like he’s on a podium, doesn’t really get why lorenzo’s looking at him like he’s saying i know what it feels like to be first place but somehow second best.
but max is just so closed off, he’s 24, he’s angry, he’s young, he’s like “you wouldn’t ever understand.” yet lorenzo is so kind, he’s patient, and his slender hands are on his shoulders, on the thin fireproofs. his hands are circling his throat, just massaging the bump of bone right there, so soft and gentle and comforting max almost feels like crying. he just wants to bury himself in his neck, smell the warm sandalwood and ylang-ylang, and pray that everything just stops, that they can just sit there for a moment and he can be just max, who has lorenzo’s fingers around his neck—no names tied to it. no verstappen, no leclerc, with no charles, or carlos, or even danny or anybody, just those two.
just two fingers massaging his throat, dark, glistening eyes looking up at him, eyes that tell him it’s okay, i know, i know how this feels. better luck next time? and maybe max is reading this wrong because what exactly does lorenzo know about being second place? but he doesn’t really find the time to care because he feels a shaven cheek, because a mouth is touching his cheek !!!, ever so gently as usual. whatever as usual is—but then again he doesn’t really actually care to think about that becuase he’s decided to replace cheek with mouth, and mouth to mouth he tastes bubbly and…mint…? it doesn’t really matter anyway because his mouth is just so sweet, so intoxicating. max wonders stupidly if you can get drunk off a person and the alcohol in their mouth, and decides that today is the day to find out.
—lorenzo anon x
thank you for sending me the first half after i fucked up!
i genuinely feel unqualified for such a wonderful GIFT in my inbox this is like the 💌💌💌 materialised?????? please post this...... we don't have a single L-lestappen on ao3 and you could be the first 🥺🥺🥺
SCREAMING GIRLDAD LORENZO AHHHHHHHHH 5)8.gahahf this is so Tender??? and so gentle??? ofc the babby is naturally drawn to max
(carlos isn't looking for him anymore they aren't in toro rosso.) Damn go off, you said versainz found DEAD 💀 I respect it... charlos lives
SI BAMBINA THIS IS MAX I CHOKED UP 🥺🥺🥺🥺
Charl and Max clearly have Something going on which I'm very 👀👀👀 about..... the thunderous look
max doing the max thing where he makes any small talk to talk to a leclerc hahhdjd he's got a CRUSH 🥺
max you big fucking idiot you think lorenzo LORENZO WHO HAD TO GIVE UP HIS KARTING CAREER TO AFFORD HIS BROTHERS DOESNT KNOW ABOUT BEING SECOND BEST????????? Ahhhhh screaming..... max being taken care of and being treated tenderly is literally my kryptonite like no offence I've fainted
the whole? stroking his neck?? and then the cheek to mouth kiss?)l? OP how does it feel to invent ROMANCE cause you did it you distilled it into one perfect moment. no leclerc no verstappen no one else just them as they are. im so feral
i actually need them together in slowburn but also immediately girldad Lorenzo and the WDC all too in his head needing someone who shakes him out of it, who is older and wiser and understand and it just happens to be his biggest rival's older brother. Screaming. Perfect. sobbing.
#leclercs + max au#FIC REC#EVERYBODY READ THIS#ITS SO TENDER#swooning fainting crying#L-lestappies WE WON#lestappen#f1 rpf#tender romance girldad lorenzo
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i’ve never sent a request i hope this makes sense 😭
reader doesnt feel very pretty so suguru fucks reader in front of a mirror + lots of praise
i love love love your work🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽
❤︎ ໋𓈒 geto showing you how pretty you are.
warnings. fem! reader, mirror sēx, reverse cowgirl, praise, body worship, overstim, talking you through it, mdni. tysm <3
“. . . ah ah, something’s wrong, isn’t it?” geto hums softly, two soft hands attached to your waist. his touch was always so gentle—you lean back, feeling him bury inside of you before you pause your pace. he brings a kiss towards the crevice of your neck before speaking in a hushed tone. “my baby’s upset.”
“i’m not,” you inhale a sharp breath, and he doesn’t exactly buy it. although, he doesn’t interrupt your saddened words—he allows for you to finish, giving you nothing but his uninvited attention. it’s a long pause before you sigh. “suguru. can i—can i ask you something? be honest.”
he nips another kiss near your neck, moving a hand towards the inner corners of your physique. “why, of course. i’m listening, sweetheart.”
the words that slowly drag out your throat felt so hard to get out. a lump builds up against your esophagus before you swallow, muttering a soft, “do you . . do you think i’m pretty?”
a smile goes against his lips. “honestly, i think you’re more than pretty,” and you let off a moan once you feel his touch skim down your spine. “every chance i stare at your body, my breath gets stolen,” and then he turns your face to stare right into the mirror. “i want you to see what i see, a gorgeous girl on my lap. stunning, is she not?”
albeit, the moment your eyes reach the mirror, you see nothing but the exact opposite of your reflection.
“. . no,” you mumble, leaning against his bare chest. you hear the faint breaths of geto as he’s still stuffing you full with his shaft. your skin against his felt warm, sweltering hot. for whatever reason, your throat started to become dry like the sahara as you resume to speak. “are you just saying that, sugu?”
“oh, i’d never lie to my pretty girl,” and your heart swoons a bit. his words, so tender—easily warming its way into your heart. as you stare into the mirror with him, he leans in to press gentle kisses all against your skin. the hairs beneath your neck stand up and you inhale another sharp breath. “i love you, and if i have to smother you with millions of compliments for you to see the gorgeous girl that i see, then so be it.”
“s—suguru,” you choke out, leaning into his touch. you were so sensitive, and he feels you start to gradually move again. you were so trapped up into your intrusive thoughts that you forgot how you were just about to release. he was right, you knew that. but something within you was telling you that it simply wasn’t the case. “promise?”
he sneaks a final kiss against the shell of your ear. “my love,” he whispers, a hand softly wrapping around your neck. it’s gentle, the tip of his middle finger strums down your throat before he feels the vibrations collide against his single digit. “you are perfect. even if you think otherwise, you’re perfect for me, i promise,” he murmurs, and you could almost cry. words that you always needed to hear, your heart eases a bit before your knees buckle. “i wish i could make you see how pretty you are for me,” and his free arm slides down between your thighs, feeling against your slick entrance. you whimper, slumping way back against his chest. “and i thought it was your eyes that i get lost in,” he simpers once you meet his gaze in the mirror. “the most precious body i’ve laid my eyes upon, just look at you for a second.”
your hips start to make haste again, and he’s quite thick inside you—you gnaw on your lip, staring at geto from the mirror and he smiles.
“. . . from your curves to your skin to every inch of your body,” he rants, a hand slowly making its way to touch and feel against every part of your skin. such soft pads of his fingertips roam everywhere and you can feel yourself staring to drift into a euphoric state. it was approaching, your inescapable orgasm that left such a warm pool to stir into your abdomen. “mwah,” he kisses near the outline of your jaw. “if i could fall in love with you for the first time again, i would.”
“don’t s-say things like that,” you tremble, feeling him gradually split the inside of your cunt open with his cockhead. it felt so good, like it always does—you were quite tense, your shoulders were at least. but with each kiss that geto gives your body it eases you, sending you into a sweet lewd trance. “s-suguru.”
he chuckles. “but baby,” and he’s teasing now, hearing that familiar kittenish tone residing underneath his low voice. “it’s true. i love you, not just for your body—i love your voice, your scent, your touch, the way you play with my hair,” and he pauses, a mere rough groan escaping his lips. he was right up against your ear before he sighs softly. “i love the way you look every time i praise you, especially. the way your pupils dilate and your lips curve into a subtle smile, it’s so adorable.”
“ . . . ”
“aw, too much?” he snickers.
you lie back, rotating your hips a bit as you grind against him in reverse—slow but steady, your hands grip against his thighs before you whine. so close, your release was at the tip of your tongue. you could almost taste it, the taste of your sweetly bitter climax steadily approaching itself.
“i- i love you too,” you mumble with quivering lips, breathy pants shortly following your dialogue. “t-thank you, sugu.”
“don’t thank me,” he whispers, bringing both hands towards your waist for about the nth time now. he runs his fingers up before its at your hips, guiding your movements before he grunts himself. “stare at yourself with me. i want you to see what a pretty girl looks like when she’s about to cum.”
you almost moan from his words alone, you felt so hot — not just from his touch, but the way he spoke to you too. if it was anything suguru geto was good at, it was praising you to your heart’s content.
the more you rode him, staring at your reflection through the mirror with him propped up right behind you—you started to see what he was seeing. perhaps his words were getting through to you, a soft satisfied noise departs from your lips and he pulls you closer. “easy, that’s it. stare at me in the mirror the whole time,” and he kisses your neck again—leaving a trail of his invisible smooches. “i got you, i got you,” and your whines grow a bit more louder. he’s hitting you deep, your head slightly spins before the grip on his thigh tightens. “just make a mess on me ‘n i’ll clean it all up. i’ll do anything for you, sweetheart. even if it’s a little messy, heh.”
a tiny smile tugs against your lips at his comment before you feel the sudden ache underneath your thighs. him talking you through it all in that sly soothing voice, you felt as if you were on cloud nine—the tenderness of geto’s words had your heart feening for more, for more of his love and affection.
“she’s so breathtaking,” he gently cups your chin, staring you right in the eyes—you glance at geto, beads of sweat racing down both sides of his forehead. he was pretty too, his hair was pinned up but a few strands poked out and merely shielded his eyes. every time he looked at you, it was like he was falling more and more in love. a thumb of his plays against your lip before he hums, “my woman. my gorgeous woman.”
the moment you reach your climax, it comes at full speed—you moan loudly, feeling your pussy transmit into a full crazed spasm. your thighs quaver and tremor, and you briefly bite down on your tongue. “. . . s-suguruu,” you whimper out, such sweet candied moans ripping out your throat. he intertwined his fingers with yours his as you rode it out. your hips, sliding back and forth against him still before eventually it comes to a halt. your eyelids became heavy as you lie back, a few strands of geto’s hair tickling against your skin. “f-fuckkk.”
“shhh. breathe for me, baby,” he soft mutters, watching as your twitching body slowly calms itself down after a while. everything felt hot. with your mouth was open, spit-glossed lips parted, you listen. breath after breath gets slower, focusing on your patterns before he kisses the top of your forehead. “good girl, the best girl.”
after a while— it goes silent, you sit there— still siting on his lap with his cock all inside of you before you exhale lowly. “how do we feel now? better?”
you puff out a soft sigh. “a- a little.”
“hey, that’s progress, sweetheart,” he gently coos against your ear. geto smiles once he notices you’re still holding onto his hand. your fingers lock against his before he gives you a little head pat. “sleepy?”
“no.”
it’s a long silence and he tilts his head with an eyebrow raise through the mirror and you pout.
“okay, just a little sleepy,” and you turn around, making him pull out before facing him directly. geto gazes into your eyes before a sheepish grin forms on his face once you kiss the corner of his mouth. “i know i already said it but i love you, sugu.”
“i love you,” he replies, leaning to kiss the top of your forehead for the umpteenth time. “so much more. now let’s get the pretty girl some rest. i’ll even sing you a song to help those eyes close..”
#★vegasbaby.#geto x reader#geto smut#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#geto x you#suguru geto x reader#geto suguru smut#getou suguru x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk x reader smut#jjk drabbles#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujustsu kaisen x reader#anime smut#female reader
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The Disappearance of Timothy Drake-Wayne, and how Watcher Mystery Files solved it in one episode.
Wrote it for a warm up, freaked out because I didn't know how to end it, copped out, wrote Omegaverse instead, finished another story, circled back to this one.
Anyways this was inspired by this post right here from @thebeeswantarson
it looks like this go reblog it
Alright here we go.
When the nosebleeds had started, Tim hadn’t really thought anything of it.
He’d waved away concerned friends and family, shoved tissues (and tampons, on one memorable occasion) up his nose, and gone about his day.
Then the migraines. Oh, the migraines.
After the increased migraines, increased stomach issues, and a few fainting spells that had even Bruce cornering him and demanding he see a doctor, Tim had acquiesced.
And the result after many CATscans and MRIs?
Nothing. No tumors, no signs of disease, normal bloodwork-nothing physical was wrong.
Nothing magical, either. He’d gone to some JLD members to ensure that.
After consulting with his small team of doctors, they finally managed to pinpoint what was driving his body to rebel against itself.
Stress.
Fucking stress.
Like some sort of swooning Victorian maiden, but with all the swooning and none of the cocaine.
So.
Tim had written email to his friends and family, sent them off, and proceeded to completely detach from the world around him in his most well-kept secret bunker.
Tim knew himself, and if he maintained contact with anyone then he’d inevitably go back to working on cases and undoing the de-stressing he was attempting.
He hadn’t been sure if it would work, or if the stress of not being able to connect to the others or work on cases would make things worse, but it had. Unorthodox, yes, but it worked! He’d relaxed and caught up on sleep!
But fully rested, and also more than a little bored, he knew it was time to get back into the swing of things.
Mournfully, Tim bid his state-of-the-art bunker goodbye and started going through the multiple airlocks to get outside.
The absolute second he stepped out, though, the air rippled and Kon was immediately there.
Kon looked…disheveled.
His hair was a wreck, he only had one sleeve of his jacket on, and…were those tear tracks?
Why was Kon crying?
Fuck, had the zombie apocalypse started while he’d been away?
Tim held out his hands in a calming motion, not breaking eye contact.
“It’ll be okay Kon; we can figure out what the cure is for the Zombie Plague.” Tim didn’t actually know if he could figure it out, but he didn’t want Kon to freak out anymore than he already was.
Tim’s hands were pushed aside in favor of being swept into an all-consuming hug, and-yup. Kon absolutely was crying into his shoulder.
Tim was officially concerned.
“Is Bart okay? Is Cassie okay? Kon, who’s hurt, what happened-“
“You, Rob. You’re okay. Shut up, I’m having a moment.”
Tim was even more confused, but that was alright; his brain started working without him.
Kon was crying, and emphasizing that Tim was okay. Kon had not realized that Tim was fine, ergo Kon had not received the email Tim had sent out.
Then Tim’s brain went Tim Big Brain.
Normally, a misconception like that would have been cleared up right away by someone else with correct information. But it hadn’t been cleared up at all, and Kon was never quiet about trying to save someone.
Thus, no one had known any different to what Kon had believed. No one had known to correct the misconception that he had found himself immersed in.
Therefore, the emails had not been sent out.
…
The…emails had not been sent out.
Oh fuck him the emails had not been sent out and he went on his merry way to an unlisted bunker with soundproofing for six fucking months.
“You were supposed to receive an email,” Tim muttered, horrified, as his arms wrapped around Kon as well.
Kon snorted wetly.
“Well I didn’t, and neither did anyone else.”
“Yeah, I kinda get that now. I’m in…so much trouble.”
Kon nodded into Tim’s shoulder, smearing snot and tears into his shirt. Tim didn’t even complain.
He was too busy realizing just how badly he was in for it.
~~~~~~
Bruce could feel the conversation he was trying to have begin to turn into another fight.
Dick was insisting that Ra’s Al Ghul had to be the one who had taken Tim, and had roped Damian in on it.
The problem was that there was no real concrete evidence that Ra’s had taken Tim, and Bruce refused to let them move in without intel on, at the very minimum, where Tim could have been taken.
Dick, naturally, was not happy with that answer.
Bruce, of course, refused to lose any more of his children. Especially if it was something he could have easily prevented.
“Father, if Grandfather has Drake it is only a matter of time before irreparable damage is done. We must move quickly.”
Bruce shook his head, standing more firmly in front of his oldest and youngest.
Dick looked ready to explode.
“Get out of the way, Bruce. I’m getting Tim.” Dick’s stance was tense, and his words moreso.
Bruce had no doubt this would devolve into a physical confrontation if he did not ed-escalate.
He opened his mouth to do just that when, with a shrill beeping sound, Oracle chimed in.
“Uh, guys? I think I just found Tim.”
Bruce felt something inside of himself relax, and didn’t bother to stop Dick and Damian as they charged past him to crowd the Batcomputer.
“Oracle, report; where is he?” Was he safe? Did he need help?
“About that…”
“Babs please!” Dick begged, knuckles white from where he gripped the console.
“He’s currently outrunning the paparazzi and a literal mob of Gothamites with phones.”
Bruce…had no idea how to respond to that.
Neither did Dick, apparently.
“They’re all livestreaming, so like; tracking him isn’t an issue,” Oracle supplied, like that made things make more sense.
The screen blinked, and four separate video feeds from random Gothamites showed Tim running from them at different angles.
“…Agent A, I believe it’d be best for you to pick him up.”
All eyes were on Tim; it would be weird if Batman swooped down to retrieve him.
~~~~~~
When Tim had Kon drop him off, he had been expecting maybe a second look or two when he stepped out of that alley.
What Kon may have neglected to mention, however, was that the disappearance of Timothy Drake-Wayne was all anyone had been talking about for four months. There were a lot of theories, but the most prevalent happened to be the most gruesome.
Popular theory one; Bruce Wayne murdered Timothy Drake-Wayne in cold blood after Timothy made a decision with Wayne Enterprises that infuriated the man.
Popular theory two; Timothy Drake-Wayne was being held for ransom, and Bruce Wayne was refusing to pay it. Effectively, it was the same as theory one but with more steps.
Popular theory three; Timothy Drake-Wayne had been captured by Gotham’s underbelly and sold into human trafficking.
And the fourth most popular theory; Timothy Drake-Wayne was abducted by aliens.
So when Tim stepped out of that alley, it wasn’t to an occasional second glance.
It was to excited whispers and impromptu livestreaming.
Naturally, Tim bolted.
He’d outrun one mob, only to run into another one. His face was all over the internet, he knew, and there was no way Barbara hadn’t caught on.
He hadn’t been paying attention to where he was going, really, and made the worst mistake he could have made at that particular point in time.
He ran in front of Wayne Enterprises.
There were two guys, presumably talking about his disappearance. One was average height, the other was tall, and both were clearly not from Gotham.
He heard tiny snatches of their conversation as he got closer, pinned the California accents, and shoved past them with a half shouted apology.
“Well would’ja lookit that, Ryan; looks like it just solved itself!”
“How?!”
Tim let them fall into the background and used his new bearings to beeline for Crime Alley.
After all, only idiots would follow someone into Crime Alley.
Unfortunately, after twenty minutes Tim was forced to admit that the general populace of Gotham probably wasn’t on the scale of normal he had been depending on.
They had indeed followed him all the way into Crime Alley.
So he tried to lose them even harder.
He shoved between muggers and their victims, blew through obvious drug deals, and jumped over the tables hosting poker games so intense that the players were fingering their weapons.
Still, the crowd followed him.
Tim took three quick turns, prepared to take a fourth, and was snatched out of the street and into an old building.
The hold was meant for restraint, and Tim couldn’t break out of it without making a lot of noise, which he really didn’t want to do.
Plus, he recognized the arms latched around him and keeping him in place.
“Thanks Hood,” Tim whisper-panted.
The arms got tighter.
“Kid, do you have any idea how many ops I blew searching for you?”
Oh.
Oh no.
“Was absolutely convinced trafficker filth had gotten their hands on my kid brother,” Hood continued quietly, the mechanical rasp making his words deceptively collected, “So I went ahead and destroyed some of my only leads on the off chance that I’d find him.”
Tim felt himself start to break out in a cold sweat.
“So…you need help picking up your old trails?”
“’Help’ feels wrong. I’m owed it, Timmers.”
~~~~~~
‘Timothy Drake-Wayne Returns from the Dead!’
Tim thought that the newspapers were, quite possibly exaggerating just a little.
Just like his family was overreacting.
He was to wear at least four trackers at all times, he had to check in four times a day, he had to help Red Hood with picking back up the case load he’d all but set on fire in search of Tim, and he had to take Damian wherever their youngest wanted to go.
Apparently, the Little Demon had been so concerned that Ra’s Al Ghul had Tim that he’d started having nightmares.
And Tim wasn’t gonna lie, he felt beyond shitty for that. Well, that and everything else.
He’d also been forced to tell Bruce the location of every single one of his bunkers.
He’d sulk but…Tim also kind of felt like the worlds biggest asshole.
So.
He’d just…remember to actually hit send, not save, next time.
#batman#red robin#superboy#nightwing#red hood#watchers#ryan bergera#shane madej#brief cameo but it's there#fanfic#tim drake#kon-el#jason todd#dick grayson#bruce wayne#damian wayne
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DO NOT TOUCH ( bang chan )
sypnosis ! you're a member in stray kids, and you accidentally flex your abs to your stays. the members want a feel of your figure, but so did channie.
pairing ! idol!bangchan x idol!reader ( was written with male in mind, but pronouns are never mentioned so i suppose it can be read as fem or gn too )
cw ! jealous channie, suggestive but subtle moves on reader by channie, minho and i.n touching reader's abs, mentions that changbin and reader are shipped a lot, corny ass ending
a/n ! this was so shit im CRYING but its ok ig. PLEASE GUYS REQUESSTT im losing inspiration
Performing with your band like usual, the crowds shouting fanchants and you can, like always, hear the faint sound of people screaming your name. Who could blame them? You are one of the hottest idols in the industry.
You laughed mentally at your own egoistic thoughts, you believed everything except that. You were attractive, sure, but a lot of stays and people who biased you put you on a pedestal in your opinion.
As the music in your earpiece ended, signaling the close end of the concert, you felt a sudden heatwave on your body. Sweat, more than usual anyway, dripped down your leather outfit, you took the chance and grabbed the hem of your shirt and used it to wipe the droplets of sweat off your forehead, panting lively.
In that moment, you heard the faint sound of fans grow into something extreme, hints of "woah" and "damn" crawling in your ear aswell. You were a bit confused, did someone do something? Then you saw the looks your members were giving you. Oh.
Oh.
You chuckled, it going loud from the headset microphone you all wore, making the screams only worse. "Yes, yes, a man has abs and it's the end of the world." You joked, your charming voice sending fans into a state of swoon, and if possible, making them scream even louder.
"If it's you, then yeah" Changbin said into the microphone, making the fans squeal since you two were shipped a lot because fans can't stand idols being friends (you guys literally almost kissed once).
You laughed at him, hitting his shoulder lightly as a joke as your maknae, I.N. went up to you and hit your stomach. "Ouch!" You winced, hitting the younger male back as he laughed, complimenting your strong figure.
Minho then walked up, pulling your shirt and revealing the abs once more, the squeals that were finally dying down from your fans then grew in a wave of excitement from the move. "I never knew you worked out." He said quietly into the mic.
Though all your members gushed over your figure, the only person that you had your eyes on was Bang Chan, your leader, who was so fucking hot to you. I mean, who you thought was a great producer with very amazing humor, who just was attractive to you sometimes. Gosh, especially with his blonde luxurious curly ha-
"N/N, let's work out together sometime." He said to you, snapping you out of your very appropriate train of thoughts. You nodded, happily dreaming about the idea.
In Bang Chan's mind, he was fuming with jealousy. He wanted to rub his hands all over your abs just like his other members did, but that was just too out of character for Channie. He sighed, quietly, as he dealt with only touching your shoulders and subtly tracing the blades of them, making you chuckle.
You adjusted your microphone so your words wouldn't blast in the speakers, whispering in his ear with a mouth over your lips, so no magical lip- reader could expose you.
"Don't worry, you can touch me later, I can sense your grumpiness from here, Channie." The words placed a smile on his face.
He slapped your head teasingly, rubbing your hair as the fumes from earlier calmed down. After all, the other members could touch you and rub you all they like,
But he'll always be the one you'll dream about.
#skz au#skz x reader#skz x y/n#skz x you#stray kids#stray kids smau#stray kids x reader#bang chan#bang chan x reader#bang chan imagines#bang chan smut#bang chan x you#bang chan x male reader#skz x male reader#stray kids x male reader#skz#skz imagines
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Let Your Knights Weep
One of the big things I've had to train myself out of when writing medieval historical fiction?
The stiff upper lip.
This used to really bewilder my editor, who for some time attempted to nudge me away from having my grown men weep and wail and blubber, but for me it's an essential part of the setting. Whether in grief or fear, medieval people did not hold things back.
Here are some of my favourite quotes to explain.
First, a couple from two great 20th century medievalists:
CS Lewis in his Letters put it this way:
“By the way, don't 'weep inwardly' and get a sore throat. If you must weep, weep: a good honest howl! I suspect we - and especially, my sex - don't cry enough now-a-days. Aeneas and Hector and Beowulf, Roland and Lancelot blubbered like schoolgirls, so why shouldn't we?”
Dorothy Sayers, in her fabulous Introduction to her translation of THE SONG OF ROLAND, speaking of Charlemagne discovering Roland's body on the battlefield:
Here too, I think we must not reckon it weakness in him that he is overcome by grief for Roland’s death, that he faints upon the body and has to be raised up by the barons and supported by them while he utters his lament. There are fashions in sensibility as in everything else. The idea that a strong man should react to great personal and national calamities by a slight compression of the lips and by silently throwing his cigarette into the fireplace is of very recent origin. By the standards of feudal epic, Charlemagne’s behaviour is perfectly correct. Fainting, weeping, and lamenting is what the situation calls for. The assembled knights and barons all decorously follow his example. They punctuate his lament with appropriate responses:
By hundred thousand the French for sorrow sigh;
There’s none of them but utters grievous cries.
At the end of the next laisse:
He tears his beard that is so white of hue,
Tears from his head his white hair by the roots;
And of the French an hundred thousand swoon.
We may take this response as being ritual and poetic; grief, like everything else in the Epic, is displayed on the heroic scale. Though men of the eleventh century did, in fact, display their emotions much more openly than we do, there is no reason to suppose that they made a practice of fainting away in chorus. But the gesture had their approval; that was how they liked to think of people behaving. In every age, art holds up to us the standard pattern of exemplary conduct, and real life does its best to conform. From Charlemagne’s weeping and fainting we can draw no conclusions about his character except that the poet has represented him as a perfect model of the “man of feeling” in the taste of the period.
OK, now let's dig into some quotes that I found just in Christopher Tyerman's Chronicles of the First Crusade and Joinville's Life of St Louis:
Truly you would have grieved and sobbed in pity when the Turks killed any of our men....
As for the knights, they stood about in a great state of gloom, wringing their hands because they were so frightened and miserable, not knowing what to do with themselves and their armour, and offering to sell their shields, valuable breastplates and helmets for threepence or fivepence or any price they could get....
When Guy, who was a very honourable knight, had heard these lies, he and all the others began to weep and to make loud lamentation....
They stayed in the houses cowering, some some for hunger and some for fear of the Turks....
Now at vigils, the time of trust in God’s compassion, many gave up hope and hurriedly lowered themselves with ropes from the wall-tops; and in the city soldiers, returning from the encounter, circulated widely a rumour that mass decapitation of the defenders was in store. To add weight to the terror, they too fled…
In the course of that day’s battle there had been many people, and of fine appearance too, who had come very shamefully flying over the little bridge you know of and had fled away so panic-stricken that all our attempts to make them stay with us had been in vain. I could tell you some of their names, but shall refrain from doing so, because they are now dead.
I could go on looking for quotes in all the other medieval literature I've read, but that would be beyond the scope of this Tumblr post.
In the meantime, this leads me to make some comments on how trauma was perceived.
In Jonathan Riley-Smith's The First Crusade and the Idea of Crusading, the author discusses the mental breakdowns suffered by the first crusaders during the second siege of Antioch, which caused many of them to flee at the moment of direst need:
In these stressful circumstances it is not surprising that the crusaders were often very frightened. At times, indeed, they seem to have been almost paralysed by a terror that they themselves could hardly comprehend. … When the crusade was bottled up in Antioch by Kerbogha's relief force it was gripped by such blind panic that there was the prospect of a mass break-out and on the night of 10 or 11 Juney 1098 Bohemond and Adhemar had the gates of the city closed. It is worth noting that many of those whom later chroniclers, writing after the events in comparative comfort in Europe, vilified for cowardice and desertion seem to have been treated more charitably by their fellow-crusaders, who must have understood what pressures they had been under.
--
In conclusion: the way we feel about things today in the English-speaking isn't necessarily the way people felt about things in the past (and this goes for other cultures, real or imagined, too). I'm continually catching myself writing people with stiff upper lips and emotional reservations, and having to remind myself that the culture was different back them. If a grown man wanted to weep, he could. That's a good thing.
(Oh, and my medieval historical fantasy? Check out the Watchers of Outremer series on Amazon or wherever books are sold!)
#history#writing#historical fiction#medieval history#medieval#middle ages#historical#masculinity#history of masculinity#toxic masculinity
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Princess Sprinkles!
Vendetta Chris Redfield x fem reader!
cw: dd/lg, creampie, squirting (guys idk how squirting feels like....), multiple orgasms (reader), fingering, pet names, praise kink, oral fixation (reader obv), light mentions of breeding, soft dom!Chris!!, afab terms used, size kink ish.., Chris being silly, Chris being a lil mean one time, and some fluff :3 !! — Lmk if I missed anything.
wc: 2005 !! (🤭 birth year go crazyy LOL!)
notes: if you don't like ddlg just um. Idk don't read 💀!! I fr try not to make the reader teeny tiny but like dude Chris is huge asf.. size kink go brrr 🧎🏻♀️! I'll be making reader a lil squishy from now on bc I'm not skinny either ☝🏻.Also I used to watch the Bratz babyz movie on repeat sm that the disc got ruined 😭😭 soo.. yes that part is directly from yours truly! Not proof read 😵💫
tags: @argreion, @rigorwhoring bc ily guys 😇!!
"Daddy!" You squeal as soon as Chris picks you up and spins you around. Making your fluffy mini pleated skirt twirl upwards.
Chris hoists your pretty body over his shoulders and pats you on the butt, practically skipping towards your shared bedroom. It looks like someone dumped all the squishmallows possible into the master bedroom. He can't help but think of you every time he sees a stuffed animal. Shits rooted in his brain. Stuffies = his angel!
Yeah, he might have to fight with them to make room for himself, but he wouldn't trade it for any other way. He doesn't actually fight them, knowing you'd throw a hissy fit and say "Hate daddy! Forever 'n ever!" Chris's heart shatters like glass whenever you say that.
He's grown softer because of you and those little threats of yours make his heart drop down to the core of the Earth. Would he admit it to team Alpha? No. Never in a million years. But they've got eyes and ears, they're not Patrick Star. Dumb and living under a rock.
Lately he's been covered in hickeys and cute little doodles that're supposed to be like tattoos by yours truly. Goes to work and gets teased by his squad, telling him how you've got him wrapped around your pretty little finger. How much you've changed him, for the better. He always shrugs them off, putting them back to work.
You for sure made Chris cut back on smoking a fuck ton. Constantly crying about how the stench will ruin your stuffies and the coat the walls of the house with a film. You're right, that's for sure. And the fact that second hand smoke is even worse is what clicks it into his head for him. His baby. His sweetheart, could end up dying because of his stupid ass habits.
Chris has lost too many of his men because of his habits. Too many good men. You are his savior. He pounds away the guilt into your needy little cunt. Constantly craving him. Needing him. Loving him. Honest to God, he needs that more than anything in this lifetime.
"Sweetheart," he sighs and sets you down onto the bed. "I missed you. Whatcha been up to?"
"Slept 'n colored and um... Ate some snackies, watch movie, 'n had lotsa juice!" You mumble, eyes glancing around the entire room. Using your hands to talk, as your words get slurred when you're in this state of mind.
Chris presses a faint kiss to your temple and noses down to the underside of your ear. Carefully holding the back of your head with his hand. He gives you more kisses and blows raspberries into your ear, making you squeal and swat at him.
"That's good baby. Glad you had a productive day." Chris smiles at you lovingly.
Your heart then swoons, making you feel all mushy inside. Praise gets him everything from you. Just like you crying out for daddy gets you everything from him!
He lazily starts to unbuckle his belt, pulling it through the loops. Setting it down on the bedside table with a thud. He starts to undo his fly, pushing his pants all the way down, kicking out of them.
Only dressed in his boxers and shirt, he engulfs you with a hug. Nuzzling into your neck, feeling your hands grab ahold of his shirt.
"Daddy?"
"Just recharging honey, hold on." His voice is deep and gruffy, sending chills up your spine.
You lay there, body buzzing with warmth as his figure presses you into the mattress. His hips shift and move against yours, causing you to gasp.
Thighs squeezing against his fit waist and he sighs into your neck. "Daddy's not charge. He excited..." Your fingers tug on his shirt and he sits up.
"Off?" Pointing to his shirt and you clumsily remove your own shirt and skirt. Now both of you are only in your underwear. Well, you still have your white thigh highs on, but still.
He presses your thighs up to your chest and settles in the middle as best as he can. Feeling his skin on your skin feels like heaven. Makes your panties wet, which he's noticed but doesn't want to say anything about it. Knowing you get all shy and embarrassed when he points things out like that. He likes it. Thinks it's cute that you want skin ship.
"So pretty baby," he pushes his hips forward. His cock catching onto your clit with each slow roll. "Pretty pussy, pretty tits. Pretty girl. My pretty girl."
Chris leans back and gets rid of his boxers. Pulling your panties up to slip his cock between your folds. Laying back down on top of you. Humping you instead of fucking you.
You can't complain, his tip his pressing against your clit nicely. Your hips rolling up to meet his and his dick slips inside.
He bottoms out immediately with a growl. "Baby. Did I say you could put it in?" Chastising you with a rough thrust, acting like it's your fault his dick slipped inside of your tiny hole.
"Daddy, didn't mean to. Not m'fault," you whine out, kicking your legs.
"S'okay. Daddy will make it all better." Chris presses a kiss to your forehead and acts like he's going to pull it out. Only to harshly thrust it back into you. "Fuck, princess. She's not wanting to let me go. You hear her crying for me?"
Moaning, you dig your nails into his back, "Daddy, daddy, never leave," you start babbling already.
He groans and rabbits his hips, making the bed rock against the wall.
"Wait, daddy, stuffies no want look, turn," you try to speak as he continues to fuck you like he hates you.
"Shit, okay baby. Hold on," he grunts and turns them around as best as he can. "Better now?"
You nod and go in for a kiss and he meets you halfway. Drooling into your mouth and your tongues swirl together before you suck on his. Moaning as he drives himself deeper inside of you. Squelching sounds and skin on skin echoing in the bedroom. Surely you guys won't get a noise complaint this time!
He spits into your mouth and smears it all over your lips with his thumb, pushing it into your mouth. Who needs a pacifier when you've got daddy's thumb?
Watching your eyes flutter shut and your lips wrapping around his thumb, it sets him off. His other hand driving down between you both and rubbing harshly at your puffy nub.
Biting down, you furrow your eyebrows. Breathing quickly and moaning softly. "Close," you hum around his digit. Sucking on it as you get closer and closer.
Chris's dick hits a special spot inside of you and your body shakes underneath him. Pussy trying to push out his cock as a clear liquid shoots out of you.
"Goddamn, baby, squirting on me, mmhh—fuck..." His hips falter and he dumps his cum inside of you. Resting his body on you, burying you into the bed. Making sure his cum never leaves you.
Chris pulls his thumb out of your mouth and kisses you feverishly. "Putting a baby in you, s'that alright princess?" Your pussy agrees by clenching around his thickness.
But he's acting like you've got a choice, since he's already done the deed. He pulls you up into his arms and you guys slowly make your way to the bath. Still connected and full.
Keeping you in his arms, he reaches down to turn on the water and put in the plug. You giggle and some of his cum starts to spurt out and drip down his balls. He settles in the tub with you on his lap, grabbing the soap to fill it with bubbles.
Chris slowly lifts you off of his length and sets you between his legs. Back pressed against his hairy chest. While his cum dribbles out of you.
His fingers make their way down to your sensitive cunt and slowly dips them inside. "Shh, I know baby," pressing soft kisses to your cheek as you whine and claw weakly at his forearms. The other one is keeping you pressed against him.
"Daddy's helping you baby," he starts to curl his fingers and your legs shake. Clearly overstimulated from earlier. But Chris starts to be a bit greedy, smacking his palm against your pretty little pearl.
Throwing your head back against his shoulder, he coaxes you into another orgasm. With the disguise of helping you get his cum out. If anything, he's trying to fuck it back into. Serious about putting a mini him or you inside of your tummy.
"Baby, almost there. Y'got it princess.. mmh.. cum one more time for daddy? Promise I'll clean you up and get us some donuts with sprinkles on 'em, just the way you like." Man, he's even bribing you! Daddy knows what you really want right now. So you whimper in response.
"Daddy, mmhhff... Daddy oh god! Please, please, please!" Your heels dig into the tub as the water fills it. His lips sucking and biting into your neck is what makes you cream around his digits.
Body convulsing and breath raggedy and higher as you come down from your second high of the night. Chris grabs your face and kisses you all over, mumbling praises into your skin. "Good girl, daddy's so proud of you."
Then, he takes his time washing you off, letting you play with the rubber duckies and splashing water onto him. Putting bubbles on his beard and making one for yourself.
"I daddy! See?" You pout and furrow your eyebrows, taking a drag of an imaginary cigarette. Chris rolls his brown eyes and takes the imaginary cigarette and puts it out.
"Babies can't do that stuff, remember? Only daddies can do that, silly baby girl." He wipes the bubbles off of your face and his, nibbling on your earlobe. Making chewing noises, "Om nom nom, my baby tastes so yummy!"
You squeal and press your face into your shoulder. "Daddy! Got wash so we can eat nummy donut! Donut sprinkle!"
He hums and gets to work. Gently washing your back and hair as you wash your front side and down to your toes. Chris hauls you up and he turns on the shower to wash your hair and his. God knows he needs this shower after training his new squad mates today.
Chris washes his own figure as you cup the water in your tiny hands and splash it up in the air. Watching you pretend you have powers as the water runs down your arms and to the tips of your fingers.
"Alright princess. Let's go get some sprinkled donuts," he pats your heart shaped ass with a chuckle. Wrapping you in a fuzzy towel, he gets to work drying you off. It reminds you of that Bratz babyz movie. Sure reminds him of it too. From how often you guys watched it, the CD stopped working and you threw a fit.
So of course, he bought a couple more, just in case. It's not like he doesn't have the money for it. So why not keep his baby sated with something so simple as a 2000s movie? He even bought you some Bratz dolls and monster high ones. Likes how you squeal and jump around in excitement every time he buys you something so simple as a doll. Makes him happy.
"Princess sprinkles and daddy sprinkles! Getting donut sprinkles! Sprinkles, sprinkles, sprinkles!" You laugh as he puts on your blue matching cinnamoroll pajamas that he spent fifty dollars on. Worth it in his opinion. Looks so cute on you, he can't help but press kisses all over your cheeks.
"Alright, alright, princess sprinkles. Let's go get in the car. Daddy'll buy you all the chocolate sprinkled donuts there is at the bakery." Chris's heart thumps in his chest. Yeah, there's a sprinkled shaped hole with a sprinkle version of you in his heart.
#resident evil smut#resident evil x reader#chris redfield smut#chris redfield x reader#chris resident evil#resident evil chris#chris smut#chris redfield#resident evil vendetta#resident evil fanfiction#fanfiction#leon s kennedy#leon scott kennedy#leon kennedy smut#localkiss
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Lover
Pairing- Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader
Summary- Listen to Lover by Taylor Swift
Warnings- FLUFF FLUFF FLUFFF, established relationship, really really small adult talk, this is really cliché, no curses!au, modern!au, my poor english, reader and satoru are so in love :( (i wanna cry) Based on Lover by Taylor Swift <3
Word Count- 2.7k words (excluding lyrics)
A/N- The amount of love I have for this man is insane. Gege when I catch you Gege!! Anyways this is something I imagine everyday with this man and decided why not share this with y’all? Hope y’all like this!
"Good morning Toru," you said in a sleepy voice as you rubbed your eyes.
Satoru smiled and said, "Good morning, my love," placing the coffee mugs on the nightstand nearby and leaning down to kiss you. You kissed him back for a moment but then immediately pulled away.
He looked at you with a frown and you spoke, "you know I have a very bad breath in the morning."
His frown suddenly turned into the grin you adored so much. "And you know that I don't care," he said before leaning down once more and kissing you. And this time you didn't resist.
You snuggled up into him to cuddle. He wrapped his hands around you as he laid beside you.
We could leave the Christmas lights up ‘till January
This is our place, we make the rules
"Happy new year," you beamed before moving even closer (if possible) to him. His body was warm- the body heat you’d always miss when you woke up in bed without him engulfing you.
"Well there's still some couple of hours left," he chuckled before kissing your forehead, "but happy new year."
Although the Christmas tree was gone by now- from the holiday a week ago- multiple strings of Christmas lights remained hung up on the living room walls. Turned off, the fluorescent lights were more gloomy than cheerful due to the festivities being over.
It being the first Christmas with Satoru in the new apartment, the one you both collectively bought together just over six months ago, the holiday was a milestone for your relationship. Decorating the small apartment was fun, placing ornaments carefully on the tree with Satoru while he broke over half of them; accidentally of course.
And now the lights remained, hung up on the walls of the open living room. While you took the first sip of the coffee- the caffeine sliding down your throat and almost scorching your tongue- it was as if Satoru read your mind.
“The Christmas lights are still up, we forgot about them.” There had always been a mysterious way about him, always seeming to know what you were thinking or feeling at any given time.
You'd heard of him in your university days. The uni heartthrob, star basketball player and the guy of every girl's dreams studying with you. Your friend would go on about him every now and then until she found her 'the one' as she called it.
You had to admit that you'd grown a crush on him too but you were too scared. He was the popular guy every girl swooned over, and then there was you, just managing to get through the uni. You doubted if he even knew about your existence. So you never worked on your feelings and just continued the way you lived.
The first time you officially met and talked with him was on the annual prom night. You were sitting alone, trying to get a shot as you watched everyone, including your best friend, dance on the slow song playing in the background.
You'd come there without a date as no one had asked you. You were slightly upset but your friend cheered you up, ditching her own boyfriend to go with you. But after a few hours of having fun, she wanted to spend time with him and of course you didn't mind.
So here you were, deep in thoughts and didn't notice someone coming up to you until the person spoke.
"Hey."
You immediately knew who's voice it was. You turned your head to look at them. And there he stood, dressed up in a black tuxedo, his white hair perfectly styled and faint blush on his cheeks as he showed his smile. Your heart started to pick up its pace as your cheeks heated up. Why would they not? Satoru Gojo, the popular guy of the whole campus and your long time crush, was talking to you.
"Hey," you replied, surprised and internally relieved you didn't stutter.
"Mind if I join you?" he said gesturing over the empty seat besides you.
"Not at all." You said and handed him a drink as he took the seat.
You were surprised, that 'The Gojo Satoru' would be so sweet and awkward at the same time. Still you two talked and got to know each other. Apparently, his date ditched him when he refused for PDA, and he claimed to enjoy your company more.
Have I known you twenty seconds or twenty years?
He almost got shy when he asked you for a dance. But you still accepted nevertheless. And let's just say it was the best time of your life. Neither of you two knew how to dance and all the time you were just stepping on each other's foot or just laughing your asses off. You knew you'd just met him but it felt like you'd known him for years.
The night ended with him asking you out. You gladly accepted. And with that, started a beautiful love story one could only ask for.
“I think we should leave them up,” a quizzing look you gave him with your eyebrows prompted him to explain, “you know, ‘cause why not? We’re adults, we don’t have to listen to any rules anymore, right?”
You laughed. “I guess I see your point... but it’s already New Year’s Day, and Christmas was a week ago. If others come around, what will they say?”
"Who cares, this is our place. Meaning," he held you tighter and continued, "we make the rules here. We could live it 'til the next January."
"You're crazy, Gojo." You said playfully and he rolled his eyes.
"Well sorry to break it to you sweetheart but you're stuck with me," he said with a little smirk.
"Wouldn't have it another way." You said giggling and giving him a quick peck on lips before getting out of the bed. As you were about to leave, he held your wrist and pulled you back. You landed back on the bed as he held you tightly once again.
"Let's just stay like this for the whole day." He said as he closed his eyes.
You giggled, "’Toru, if you don't let me go then we won't be getting any breakfast today."
"I don't care." He said as he buried his face in your chest, "you're warm and I want cuddles." You laughed at his childish behaviour and cuddled back with him. You slowly ran your fingers in his hair just the way he liked. He groaned at the feeling and hugged you even tighter.
There was a comfortable and peaceful silence until he said, "by the way I already made us breakfast."
You widened your eyes when you heard him. "Really? I'm surprised the house is not on fire yet."
He sat up and rolled his eyes. "You know I'm a better cook than you."
You hit him playfully on his chest as he laughed. He got out of the bed and went into the kitchen and you went to the bathroom and quickly brushed your teeth, excited to see what he had prepared for both of you.
He came back with two plates of honey-drizzled pancakes. You were sitting on the bed by then and your mouth immediately started watering after seeing the pancakes.
"Tell me how it is." He said after putting down the plates. You took a bite before widening your eyes and looking at him proudly.
"I see you've gotten my recipe perfectly." You said wiggling your eyebrows making him chuckle.
He chuckled, his eyes shining with satisfaction. "I wanted to do something different this time. You're always the one making breakfast, so I thought I'd give it a try and show you that I can make your recipes too. Consider it my New Year's resolution. Plus I know how much you hate to get out of the bed in the morning, so breakfast is now my duty."
Your heart melted at his thoughtful gesture. He had gone out of his way to make you happy, to bring a change to their routine. It was a small act, but it spoke volumes about his love and dedication. You couldn't help but fall in love with him even more if possible.
Moved by his sincerity, you leaned in and kissed him passionately, feeling the warmth of his embrace. In that moment, your connection deepened, your love reaffirmed. Your lips gently parted, and your foreheads touched as you locked eyes, sharing an unspoken language of love and understanding.
You’re my my my my Lover.
"You don't have to do anything special to make me happy." You whispered, "as long as you're with me, I'm content."
A smile graced his lips, and he spoke softly, "I love you."
"I love you too. More than words can express." You said before attaching your lips with his once again.
-
"Cheers to the New Year!" echoed throughout the room as everyone joyously raised their glasses and took hearty sips of their drinks. The lively party was in full swing, with conversations overlapping and laughter filling the air. To your right, was a group engaged in a spirited drinking game, while in a quieter corner, a few couples were making out while Satoru and Suguru shared jokes and laughter near the balcony, relishing their drinks.
I’m highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you
You tried to focus on the conversation you were having with your friends but failed miserably. All you could see was the unfamiliar girl who was now flirting with Satoru. He looked like he had no clue about it. Beside him, was his friend Suguru. Unlike your boyfriend, he noticed the dirty glances you were throwing at the girl.
You see him nudge Satoru with his elbow and point your way. Your eyes met his blue ones for a moment when you instantly looked away. You didn’t want to admit that you were jealous but god you couldn’t help it.
I’ve loved you three summer now honey but I want ‘em all
He was so gorgeous with his soft white hair and cold blue eyes that any girl would fall for him. But those cold eyes only showed warmth and love when they looked at you. You were the only one Satoru loved and will continue to do so till the end of time.
You looked at him again only to see him smirk. Can’t able to bear the sight of it, you decided to take matters into your own hands.
You excused yourself from your friends and walked over to where Satoru was standing. “Darling, It’s getting late. We should head home.” You said in a saccharine voice with a forced smile. Not waiting for his reply, you pulled him by his arm. The last thing you heard before exiting the venue was some words of 'good luck' directed towards Satoru by Suguru.
When you got into the car, you immediately turned towards the windows, not in the mood to talk. Satoru got inside and smiled at your behaviour.
When you got home, you both had to run inside because it had started raining. You immediately went to the bathroom to get dressed for bed, without sparing Satoru a look. After you were done, you laid on your bed and pretended to fall asleep.
Satoru, very well knowing that you were awake, gave your shoulder a nudge. “Y/N?”
"Go away, I'm trying to sleep."
“I highly doubt that. Is it something I said?”
“No.”
“Then what is it?”
“Well, I wasn’t the one who was totally oblivious to a girl hitting on me when my girlfriend stood just a few steps away.” You scoffed as you sat up.
“You can’t be serious.” He chuckled.
“Of course, I am.”
“Baby, look at me.” He said. When you didn’t listen to him, he cupped your face and made you look at him. He looked straight into your eyes and said, “You know you’re the only one for me, right? You’re the one who I’m deeply in love with.”
When you didn't say anything, he sighed and stood up. "Come with me." He said giving you his hand.
I take this magnetic force of a man to be my Loverr
You looked at him confused but took it nevertheless. "Why are we going outside? It's raining." You said when you noticed you were being led outside the house.
Satoru knew how much you loved the rain. That’s why if he was going to do this, he’ll do this with the things you loved.
You were still trying to comprehend as to why you were in the rain but you didn’t complain. You loved rain. It helped you calm down and helped relaxing your mind.
Satoru led you in your small house garden. You had already started getting soaked from the rain as you asked, “Why are we here?”
And you’ll save all your dirtiest jokes for me
“Why? Getting wet already?” he said as you rolled your eyes and laughed. He smiled at you. He swore his heart swells every time he hears you laugh or sees you smile, especially when he is the reason behind it.
“Let’s dance.” He said and spun you around. You laughed when he pulled you towards him and tried to waltz.
“You’re still a terrible dancer.” You said jokingly.
“Well you’re the only one who gets to dance with me so I suggest you get used to it.” He said, trying his best not to mess up the steps.
“Did you learn the basics of waltzing?” you asked when you saw him doing correct steps.
“Well, I know you love to dance and I’m a terrible dancer. So I tried learning just so you can have, not excellent but at least an average dance partner.” He said, scratching his neck sheepishly.
And at every table, I’ll save you a seat Loverr
You didn’t know that you could fall for him even more. He learned to dance, just for you. He knew you loved to dance so he tried to become better at it, just for you. You knew how hectic his schedule can get but still he took some time off it to learn how to dance, just for you. You loved this man so much and you’ll never get tired of admitting this.
Can I go where you go?
“There’s still something I need to do.” He said, now sounding somewhat nervous.
You raised an eyebrow and looked at him in suspicion, “what is it?”
You didn’t want to think the worse but with the way he was behaving, you couldn’t help it. Is this it? Is he going to break things off? You didn’t know how you will survive if your thoughts came true.
Can we always be this close?
He took a deep breath before reaching for his pocket and taking out a small box. He bent down on his knees and held open the box in front of you. You widened your eyes at sight before you and gasped when you realised what was happening.
“Y/N, I never knew I could love someone as much as I love you. You’re the ride and die for me, the one who is everything to me, the one who’s laugh and smiles makes my day, the one who’s tears break my heart, the one who will always own my heart. And I can’t believe that you love an idiot like me. I want you to be the first and only love for me. I want you to be the one who lights up my day with just a smile, who makes my nights beautiful with just a touch.”
Forever and ever and Ah
“I want to be the one for you who you’ll spend forever with just like you have always dreamed of. I don’t want to spend another minute without you being by my side.”
You’re my my my my
“So Y/N L/N, will you marry me?” he finished, tears falling from his eyes. You didn’t know when you started crying but this moment was the best moment of your entire life. You practically jumped on Satoru as you hugged him.
Oh you’re my my my my
“Yes, yes a million times yes!” you said in between your tears as Satoru hugged you back. When you pulled away, he slowly slipped the ring onto your ring finger.
You immediately leaned in and kissed him, pouring all your unsaid love into this kiss. He kissed you back with the same passion as you. You felt like you fell for him all over again. The love story that started long back when you were in university, when you never thought he even knew your existence, when you never thought he’ll notice you, when you never thought he would even speak yet alone dance with you. And you definitely didn’t think that out of everyone, Gojo Satoru was ‘The One’ for you. But even after everything, you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Happy new year, Gojo.”
“Happy new year to you too, soon-to-be Mrs Gojo.”
Darling you’re my my my my
Loverrr <3
________________________________________
ever blushed while reading your own writing? I just did lmao. Hope y’all liked this!
#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#jjk x reader#jjk gojo#gojo satoru x reader#gojo fluff#taylor swift#lover#jjk satoru#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu gojo#gojo x you#jujutsu satoru#satoru gojo x reader#fluff
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BRAT TAMER, l. jn ⚝
pairing | l. jn x m!r
synopsis | after a whole day of teasing, jeno has taken matters into his own hands to shut you up.
cw | rough intercourse, mean dom jeno, discipline, degradation, bj & rimming (reader receiving), spanking, overstim, dumbification, stomach bulging, dacryphilia, cre*mpie
an | welp haha <3 enjoy the filth. reblogs and interactions are highly appreciated.
"what's wrong, my boy? weren't you just slutting yourself out for my attention?" moaning in jeno's grasp, you couldn't help but wonder, that maybe, just maybe, teasing him the whole day wasn't really your smartest move. as he locks down your heaving hips, his hand presses heavily across your stomach. his head was wedged between your quivering legs as jeno growled on your cock, his tongue tickling your leaky slit until it swelled.
you shoved back as the delicate pulses of his voice sang through your skin, "now that you've had it, you're backing away?", he murmured as you tried to move, however his grip on you remained firm.
"you should've given more attention to me earlier then," your gaze was scornful as it caught on with his. jeno chuckled while sucking gently on your cock, sniggering at your pinching utterance— however, your faint gasp from his actions only provided a boost in his pride as his grip tightened around your thigh, "have you seen how filthy your cock is? all swollen and leaking just from a simple touch? pathetic," you're a whimpering mess under his control; a ravaged and sweaty clusterfuck, yet he hasn't even given you his cock until now, "all this for me, huh?"
"hmm?" you questioned playfully as your boyfriend deepthroated your cock— making your hole feeling incredibly hollow; you needed him to stuff you full with his toys or perhaps even his dick, like he often does, "maybe~" however, you're wanting to gauge how frustrated he could get. "fine then," he growled around your cock before passing his tongue along through your perineum to your fist-clenching hole.
you attempted to arch your back high when you felt his thumb nudge around the sensitive head of your cock— more committed to keeping you down the bed as he started stimulating your sensitive tip. the pleasant sensation of his warm breath passes soft against your rim, and it's almost enough to make you cum immediately, "you wanted my attention, huh? you got it," he laps furiously at your hole, causing his words to be slurred, "brat." your mouth parted in a garbled moan of his name as he drove his tongue onto your prostate, prompting you to cum messily across your tummy.
heat crawled through your body as you watched him suck your cock clear of cum, shame obscuring your consciousness alongside the colorful haze of an orgasm. he withdrew while you shut your eyes, cleaning his lips using the palm of his hands as he lured your attention back at him by repeatedly tapping his cock across your hole, "hmmm? did you seriously think i'm done with you?" he chuckled at the modest shriek he caused while rubbing the dripping head of his cock between your ass cheeks, "yeah? rethink things then."
"b-but— i'm sensitive, sir~" you tried to protest only for him to land a sharp slap on your thighs. "mh~ my brat's sensitive? 'm guessing you're sore too, aren't you?" he swoons at your pitiful cry before spanking your dick while he spreads your legs wide open, resulting in your senses being set ablaze with a burning sensation as his large hand slaps your poor, sensitive cock again.
you whimpered as your toes clench in pleasure upon feeling his lengthy finger knead the throbbing numbness around your tip before mercilessly paddling your sensitive hole "there, there, love~ daddy's helping you with that neediness."
through your dazy eyes, you take a look at his bloodthirsty, sadistic smirk, "not so sensitive now, aren't you, brat?" his massive palms grabbed your chest and gave your nipples a light pinch as he pushed his cock inside you, all while grinning as he watched you writhe beneath him, "c'mon, sweets, cry for me. show me how much you want me,"
"coz i fuckin' know how obsessed— and delirious you are for this cock," you only could stammer nonsense with your eyes closed shut in fervent euphoria, striving to keep up by how his cock strained out your throbbing hole. jeno then grabs your jaw and squeezes your face with his left hand, "i can tell from how much this filthy hole of yours hugs my cock— how you feel around me—"
"so. fucking. beg. for. me." he ordered while slapping your face repeatedly with every word that came out of his mouth. you would if you still can, however the way that cock is stuffing you full has dulled your head. you could only whimper his name and faintly ask for more, intoxicated from the warmth of his length sliding luscious across the crevices of your insides.
he growls as he nearly altogether withdraws before plunging harder and deeper, observing your mouth hanging agape in total sinful bliss. he then spits a pleasant smear of spit into your mouth as he leans in nearer, "swallow that filth." his imperious voice was enough to send you obeying him in a matter of seconds, tightening your walls repeatedly at every thrust.
shortly, his hips were harshly banging with yours, the puffy leaking head of his shaft overtly hitting at your prostate, "wait-t! j-jeno! slow down, please, please, please!" a jitter forms inside your mouth as an unforeseen orgasm ignites from his incessant thrust. before you could even moan his name, he quickly pumped your cock, inserting his fingers inside your mouth while sternly adjusting you, "it's daddy to you, little brat."
your wrists were restrained by jeno's callused hands, his hasty fingernails digging deep into your thighs as he fucks roughly into you, "t-take it~ fucking take it like the good little boy you are, yeah?" he halted before plunging his cock deep within you again, so that you could feel how his cock perfectly slots into your puckered hole. his lips resounded with a loud grunt as he muttered, "so fuckin' tight, and's all for daddy, hm?" he grabbed you by your thighs harshly as he pulled you closer to him—putting your legs all over his shoulders so that he could breach into you deeper—if that is even possible.
you whimpered as a result of this, "t-too much, daddy— fuck! can't anymore!", but he only laughed like a mad man as a response. jeno quickens his thrusts more, overstimulating you throughout your climax and delivering yet one after another, "maybe you should stop slutting out next time, yeah? that way you'd get what you want," his gaze descended to rest on the bulge he's forming on your tummy, thrusting his hips hard into yours while sneering ominously and admiring the imprint of his cock underneath your flesh.
"j-jenO- ahh!" your arms soared to nudge on his chest, only for him to take your hand in his and press it harshly on your tummy, "notice that, pup? that's me inside you," he huffs, resting his sweaty head against your dripping one. "reshaping your guts," he presses your palm down heavily against your stomach until you can feel each and every motion of his cock inside you.
before you could even speak, jeno pressed his lips against yours— not allowing you to protest any further. you could taste the bittersweet taste of your own cum on his tongue as you moaned more in pleasure. as he pulls back from the kiss, three of his digits are pushed roughly into your salivating lips, "behave. now."
your lips subconsciously envelop his huge fingers as they strain heavily on your tongue, swirling the wet muscle as you take him deeper— but that's still wasn't enough to shut you up as a mangled whine was still able to escape your throat that angered jeno more, "perhaps you need a lot more than my fingers being forced into that wretched lips so you can quit bitching huh?" your irises dilated in eagerness as he cast an apathetic glare to your direction, "i said, behave."
"i don't believe i can nor will i," you didn't even recognize the translucent warm tears cascading down your face from all the intensified sensations he was foisting on you during your orgasms. "it's ok," he shifts his tongue to your chin, licking up the briny pearls of tears, "a dumb plaything like you should not have to use your brain much."
your pelvis faltered when your hole tightened around jeno, a thick liquid running over his cock as a profuse amount of precum leaked from him. "just follow what daddy has told you," he commanded as he wanted yet again another wave of orgasm from you. "so, continue and come for my cock, bitch." his hips rutted deeper.
"s-shit— you're making me leak so much— clenching like that on daddy's cock, huh?" you're convulsing beneath him— your cock spurting cum all disorderly everywhere as you struggle to contain squeals all while this climax has completely destroyed you. "do you want daddy to fill you up with his hot cum? yeah? does my boy want me to stuff him up with so much cum and make him a cumdump?" your nose pressed against one another as jeno rested his forehead on yours— panting heavily as he rolled his hips deeper, "'m gonna stuff you up 'til you're all stupid and bloated— that's what you love, yeah? dumb slut?"
as he expected, you could only nod your head like a dumb slut as a response; your mouth hanging agape, drool seeping through the sides of your mouth as you try to form coherent noises, only for you to fail miserably—much to jeno's delight.
his hand made its way to your neck, wrapping his fingers tight around your throat as he made you struggle even more, "can't understand you, love~ go on, tell daddy what you need," his gaze trailed the form of your visage as you twitched beneath him, frantically wanting to produce a coherent sentence, "what was that? daddy can't hear ya~"
"moan my name c'mon. don't be shy and scream the name of your daddy breeding you full. this is what you wanted, yeah? my focus on you, attention-seeking slut?" your frenzied blabbers are nothing more than just deluded whimpers to him as he paints your walls white with his cum. hissing as he thumps his heavy load deep into you, "fuck— wish you could see yourself right now— fucking stupid cumdump," the irony that you are unable to retort to his remark properly only makes him chuckle sadistically, "a filthy fucking cumslut— yeah, that's what you fucking are."
the sides of his mouth twist up in a vicious manner as he recognizes the slutty look on your eyes beneath him, "maybe you should act like a bitch more often; that way i get to fuck you precisely how I want it."
#kpop x male reader#kpop smut#nct smut#nct dream smut#nct x male reader#nct dream x male reader#nct x reader#nct dream x reader#nct dream jeno#nct jeno#jeno smut#jeno x male reader#jeno x reader#lee jeno smut#male reader#sub male reader#nct fanfic#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines#bottom male reader
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Into The Spider's Web
MDNI, 18+ only
(girl i don't know how to tag or write any of this)
summery: izana is obsessed with you. he made a plan to make you submit to him, be addicted to him. slowly but surely until he fully ruined you.
Masterlist:
|Next Chapter:
will you see through him early enough?
TW: Masturbation, Mentioning of SA, Violence
Tags: Dom!Abusive!Izana x Sub!Naive!Reader
Chapter 1.
You meet Izana, and he swoons you at the right moment. It seems like he is always at the right place at the right time. Always with that smile of his.
Coincidence
It felt like a coincidence when you met him. You worked at a small 7/11 in Tokyo, just earning your loan to pay for college tuition. You were living in a small apartment with 2 roommates. One day, he bumped into you on your way to work. He helped you pick up your things and gave you a small smile. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" His voice was cold, but he gave you the sweetest smile. You blushed a little bit. He handed you your bag and your books. "What'cha reading, bunny?" The red color on your cheeks rose deeper as you answered with a small voice, "Just...just some books for college. It's for calculus," he smirked. "What a smart bunny!" Then you remembered that you were getting late for work, so you quickly bowed down and said, "Thank you for the kind words and the help. I'm sorry again for bumping into you. I am in a hurry. Goodbye!" and you walked off. He smiled after you, and you heard a faint chuckle. That was the first encounter.
The second encounter was when your shift just ended, a few nights later. You were ready to pack up and close off. You felt uneasy, like someone was watching you. It was already 2 a.m. when the shift ended. Your apartment isn't far from work, and you decided to just walk quickly. Once you closed up for the day, you began to walk. The uneasy feeling of being watched creeps closer and closer. You saw three shadowy figures moving closer to you. 3 men of about the same age. They started to surround you. One of them grabbed your hair and yanked it back, making you scream out in pain. You begged for mercy, though none is to be found. They pushed you against a wall. One of them began to try to unbutton your pants while the other one held you in place. You squinted your eyes shut, crying and praying for this to be over soon, when you then felt the grip loosen. A few moments later, you heard a familiar voice saying, "Are you okay, bunny?" It was Izana. The men that attacked you lay on the ground, blood covering their faces. It looks like Izana came just at the right time. He saved you, and you felt so safe now. He offered you a hug. You took it, and he held you for a moment. "Is it okay if I walk you home? It would be safer that way," you nodded. There was no way in hell you would walk home alone after all that. You were so thankful. He came just at the right time. He took you to your apartment, and once at the door, he smiled at you again. "I will take my leave now, Bunny. Watch yourself next time. Be safe." you blush in a deep shade of pink. He turned around and took a few steps away from the door before you shouted at him, "Your name! What's your name?!" he turns around, half way, and smiles "izana, izana kurokawa" and then keeps walking. "izana.....kurokawa" you repeated in a faint whisper. He chuckled again as he walked away. That was encounter number 2.
After that encounter, you already couldn't think of anything else. Izana kurokawa saved you. He was such a handsome man as well. His white hair and these Lilac eyes followed you in your dreams and through all kinds of fantasies.
You found yourself thinking about him...his voice and his eyes. One night, you woke up from a dream of him. His face was buried between your legs, his tongue latching on your folds as he kept calling you by his little nickname, Bunny. When you woke up, you were out of breath but still so unbelievably wet. You checked the time....5:27am. Your bangs are stuck to your forehead with sweat. Then, images of your dream popped back into your mind, and you gasped out a breathy moan. "I-izana~" you whispered his name. Your hands glided down your body, pulling up your PJ shirt, cupping your breasts, and pinching your nipples. Another moan. His face burned in your memories. "Izana~" again, his name rolled off your tongue. Your other hand slides down further, sliding inside your PJ shorts, rubbing your thigh as your eyes squint shut. You imagined his hand on your body. You imagined how he would rub your swollen Clit through your panties while you drew circles around it, moaning desperately. Your pants soaked themselves full of your juices as you rubbed up and down your covered pussy. You slid them to the side to finally get some relief. First, slowly and gently, you inserted 2 fingers and began to move them in and out. You coated them with your slic and threw your head back while trying to hold back moans, to not wake up your roommates. "Izana~" you moan again. Your hand moved into your bedside table, 2 fingers still buried in your pussy. From the bedside table, you pulled out your trusty vibrator. You turned it one and pulled out your fingers. You began to tease your clit with the buzzing vibrator and closed your eyes shut, moaning out and bucking your hips into the little wand vibrator. "Izana!" Your thoughts were filled with the remains of the dream. Slowly, you rubbed the wand up and down your slit to coat it with your juices, then pushed it inside your hole. The familiar sensation gave you the sensation you needed, but this night it's different. Your body tensed up as you moved the wand in and out of your drooling pussy. You're gasping and whining as you fucked your little pussy with the want, imagining his cock inside you, buried balls deep. Your breathing gets shallower, faster as you slowly approached the edge. You moved the wand faster and faster as you get closer and closer to your climax. Your legs shook and trebled as you couldn't stop saying his name over and over again. "Izana! Izana! Izana!" You kept fucking your pussy with the want while it was on max vibration until you couldn't hold back anymore "Izana! Izana! Iza-aaghhh!" and with that, you came. Your head was numb, and your body finally stoppend shaking as you panted. You stare at the ceiling as you catch your breath. …before you pass out in your slumber, his face is the last thing you think about. His name is on your lips before you drift to sleep. "Izana kurokawa"
©itsruki reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!
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love on the brain - NSFW
you love when i fall apart so you can put me together
pairing: fem!reader x mason mount
summary: you had a particularly tough day at work and mason is thee to glue you back together
warnings: angst, fluff, smut (smut contains: unprotected sex, praising, pet names, cursing, choking, dom&sub behaviour)
author: happy sinday mount! thi was originally meant to be a pulisic smut but mase just fits perfectly. and it's not inspired, at all, on riri's song but i was listening to its melody while writing it!
word count: 3.838k
Work was usually stressful, always hectic, keeping you busy. You were massively good at it and it bothered some people, even the ones in a better position than you. As a workaholic, much like your boyfriend, you loved every second of it but, sometimes, it was overwhelming and today had been one of those days. It also ended with an argument between you and your supervisor, because you weren’t one to keep quiet and take the blame for someone else’s mistake while they got away with it. As a team, if one has to go down, then all the others go down too.
Work was usually stressful, always hectic, keeping you busy. You were massively good at it and it bothered some people, even the ones in a better position than you. As a workaholic, much like your boyfriend, you loved every second of it but, sometimes, it was overwhelming and today had been one of those days. It also ended with an argument between you and your supervisor, because you weren’t one to keep quiet and take the blame for someone else’s mistake while they got away with it. As a team, if one has to go down, then all the others go down too.
The sound of your flat’s door being unlocked woke you up but you weren’t worried, you knew it was just a matter of time until Mason showed up as he usually did. You mentally thanked all the Gods and the universe for having a boyfriend who just sensed and knew things when you were like this, wanting to isolate yourself from the world, even though you knew it wasn’t healthy. He’d be there for the simple reason of being there, to make sure you’d be okay the next day, to take care of you and be around, still respecting your space and your wish not to talk about it.
“Hey, you…” you noticed Mason sighed in relief he found you cuddling some pillows. A faint smile on your lips, you blinked a few times as you were saying ‘hi’ and he blew you a kiss. “I’ll be in the kitchen.” He pointed at the reusable bag he was carrying and you knew that was his mum’s thing, because Mase couldn’t cook to save his own life. When you were at his, you were responsible for all the cooking.
The noise coming from the kitchen was annoying, but you wouldn’t tell him that because that man was good for you. Looking back now, it made no sense how hard you fought not to fall for him — or, at least, not to let anyone know that Mason Mount made you swoon. Working at Trivago’s marketing department, you’d take trips to Cobham to meet with Chelsea’s marketing and social media staff, occasionally meeting a few of the boys. Then, after a match at the Bridge with your family, you found yourself at Cobham the next day and chatted to Mase about how your little brother was his biggest fan too, in a cute and shy attempt to flirt with you.
“My mum made you chicken soup.” You just nodded, and watched Mase make his way to your en-suite, and then the noise of the water filling the bath almost felt comforting. You closed your eyes for a few minutes until Mason’s warm mint breath got your head spinning in the nicest way. You wanted to cry. “Come on, beautiful. Let’s get you cleaned up, change into comfy pj’s…”
“Will you carry me, though?” That was the first time you’ve said something since he arrived, it made him flash you the most warm and happy smile, for hearing your voice.
He didn’t say anything. Mason got up and, holding your hand, made you get up too so he could put one arm around your body and the other behind your legs — that man really was carrying you bridal style to the bathroom.
Mason carefully put you down, kissing the tip of your nose as he started to undress you. He carefully opened each button of your black silk blouse, unzipped your perfectly tailored trousers and easily got rid of your bra and panties. There were no second intentions as he did that, but you could feel how his eyes sparkled seeing you naked. “You’re so beautiful, Y/n.” He whispered, softly kissing your collarbone before helping you to get inside the bath.
The warm water instantly relaxed you, but it was how Mason carefully washed your hair that made you fully relax. You loved how focused he was while taking care of you, soaping your body, warm and soft hands cupping your boobs as he rinsed off the soap from your skin.
“Why don’t you join me a bit, love?” You said, turning your face to find a frowny Mason, extremely focused on his task of taking care of you. “Get in and give me some bath cuddles, to heal my soul.”
He giggled, always loving how dramatic you were. You watched him undress and he never really stopped looking at you, even if you both knew you were not in the mood for sex, the way your body reacted to Mason’s - even if it was just the sight of it - felt unreal. And you knew he felt exactly the same.
Once he got in, after you gave him space to place himself behind you, you laid back on his chest, loving how it felt moving with his breathing. It was one of your favourite things. Staying there, in silence, was peaceful. There was nothing really to be said, but your feelings were everywhere and so were his. You and Mason were extremely different as individuals, but as a couple, it made sense and it was right because you were each other’s missing piece.
When the water was almost cold, you heard your stomach make the loudest noise, and only now you realised how hungry you were. “Let me guess, you didn’t have lunch today?” Mason giggled at the sound but his voice was serious and that made you blush as you shyly nodded. “Don’t say you had no time.”
“Actually, I forgot about lunch.” You pouted and he shook his head, kissing your temple before leaving the bath and wrapping a towel around his waist. You got out too once he had a towel for you. Your favourite part had to be him brushing your hair, though, and he did it so well and so focused it made you smile.
He helped you pick up a pyjama and put on his, one of the few he kept at your place with some other things because it was quite normal for him to spend time there, more time than he’d spend at his own stupidly big house. Then, holding hands, you went to the kitchen and you watched him getting the soup warmed up. Mason had always been boyfriend material, but lately, you found yourself wondering how he’d be as a husband. And as a father, too. Maybe nothing different from the caring and loving man he already was, but with more intensity to it.
You ate together, your stomach finally welcoming some decent food, and he occasionally touched your fingers with the tip of his, held your hand, and caressed its back with his thumb. It made you smile and his only reaction to it was smiling too, because although you looked drained, it was still much better from the situation he found you earlier.
Mason cuddled you, his face hiding in the crook of your neck as he breathed your scent in, closing his eyes. His body was warm, comfy, your own safe haven. “Mason,” you whispered his name, getting a ‘mhmm?’ from him. “Thank you for not telling me to quit my job.”
“I would never.” He kissed your neck, holding you closer to him. “I know how much you love it and it’s not a shitty job, you just have shitty colleagues. Not all of them, though… but anyway, you’re passionate about it and you shouldn’t quit, ever. Unless you get a better offer.”
“My days at Cobham would end.”
“You have me all to yourself, woman. There’s no need to go to Cobham anymore.”
“But I like seeing you there, and going not as a girlfriend, but for business reasons.”
“Hm, you mean flirting with me while you girl boss everyone else?” You giggled at how quickly he found out what exactly you meant, and that was his answer. “You’re trouble, Y/n.”
“And you like it!”
“I love it.”
You two still talked a bit more before falling asleep with your bodies glued to each other, legs tangled, holding hands. His soft, low snore didn’t bother you — in fact, you found yourself missing it when you didn’t sleep together.
******
Waking up before Mason was usually what happened and, watching him sleep so peacefully, memories from the day before flooded your mind. The way he washed you, took care of you, and looked so focused and determined while doing it was so sexy you found yourself rubbing your thighs together as you prepared a cup of coffee. Mason deserved a special treatment too and he would have it.
Back in your room, you sighed at how beautiful your man looked with those messy curls falling down his forehead. His lips slightly parted as he moved to be lying on his back with arms open, resting on the sides of his head, and the duvet only covering him from his waist below. Your mouth watered and a wave of the most delicious warmth spread across your body, you walked slowly towards your bed and as the light sleeper Mason was, he slowly opened his eyes.
“Get back in here, Y/n.” The hoarse words that left his lips only turned you on even more.
“Oh, I will.” Noticing that specific teasing tone in your voice, with his eyes still closed, Mason frowned. “Open your eyes, baby.”
Waiting until he had his eyes fully open, you almost felt intimidated at how he looked at you, as if he’d eat you alive, as you slowly undressed in front of him to reveal your naked body. For him, there was nothing more torturing than how slowly you undressed, though. He watched you get back in bed and crawl to him, only to sit in his lap with your legs on each side of your body.
“You were so good to me yesterday I thought you needed to be taken care of too.” Leaning forward, your hair tickling his face, you brushed the tip of your nose against his. “Can you be my good boy while I take care of you?”
Fuck, you said it.
Mason loved having you under him, making you moan loudly and beg, but he loved even more when you took control because there was nothing sexier than that. He nodded with a groan into your slightly open mouth, not thinking twice, feeling his cock twitch between your legs, his tongue sliding past your lips to fight yours for dominance in the most passionate kiss, You bit his bottom lip, pulling it between your lips before trailing soft kisses down his chest.
He moaned into the dark bedroom and you felt his large, warm hands trail up the backs of your bare thighs before resting on your naked ass. Mason pushed your lower body down and ground his covered erection into you, and your mouth fell open in a pant.
“Seems like someone is feeling better.” He muttered, his hands traveling back to your thighs, giving it a soft squeeze as your lips circled around his nipple. Your tongue brushed it and he bucked against you, a groan falling from his lips. You crawled back on top of him, pulling the duvet and leaving only his boxers on the way as you grind down his hard cock before placing wet kisses down his stomach. You watched his muscles tense and contract under your touch and you felt a rush of power come over you, seeing that he wanted this just as much as you did.
You reached the waistband of his boxers and slid off the bed carefully, resting on your knees between his legs and your fingers dipped past the fabric, brushing his skin. Mason sat up at that moment and his hand went to your hair, and you could hear the moan he tried to stifle. You tugged lightly on the bottom hems of his boxers, urging him to remove his last layer. He did so, quickly, kicking them off and your mouth watered in lust as you rook in the sight of him. Mason traced a finger down the side of your cheek, reaching your chin and tilting your face so you two could look at each other and you felt yourself tremble when you saw the look in his eyes - dark, full of lust, but also worshiping and love.
Soon, you were in nothing but your panties, completely at Mason’s mercy because that was how things always went even when you wanted to take control. He had you wrapped around his fingers, made you feel like your heart would escape your chest at how hard it was beating against your chest.
You leaned forward, dropping eye contact, to press soft and wet kisses to the tip of his cock, watching it twitch under your touch, making the hard wave of pleasure spread across your body. Your warm breath against his cock made Mason roll his eyes in pleasure, a groan parting his lips as he whispered how good you were to him when you licked a flat strip from the base of his cock to the tip, wetting it before wrapping your hand around the base and stroking him soft and slow. Mason’s body relaxed under your touch as moans escaped through his lips when his mouth fell open and you took him in your mouth - he instantly jerked forward, the blissful feeling of the tip of his cock hitting your throat taking control of his entire being. The salty taste of his precum makes the pleasure in your belly grow.
Mason was a mess when his hand pulled your hair and you finally looked up, your lips leaving his cock, a string of spit falling between you as a grin curled the sides of your lips. He was breathing heavily, hard, looking completely wrecked. Your instinct was to lean forward and take him in your mouth again but, with his fingers still tangled in your hair, Mason pulled you up and used his other hand to make you sit in his lap again.
“Need to feel you, baby.” The pet name made you moan, even more so when he breathed against your skin and buried his face between your boobs as his hands slid down your waist, playing with the fragile lace of your panties. Mason flipped you, your back hitting the mattress and you clenched around nothing in the most perfect combination of anticipation and arousal. Your hips bucked upwards, eager for him to fill you.
His calloused, hot hand trailed up your chest, squeezing your left boob before reaching the sensitive skin of your throat, making you gulp as your pulse quickened. Mason shook his head when you twisted under him and his touch, as a warning to behave and be his good girl as he decided to fight for control and you were more than happy to give in. “Mase, please…” You begged.
“I wasn’t done with taking care of you yet.” His husky whisper made you whimper. Mason used his free hand to brush your sensitive skin with the tips of his fingers - your nipples, all the way down to your stomach, where he started drawing perfect imaginary circles. “Wanna feel my cock hitting right here, deep inside you.” He said, making you buck your hips upwards again. He gently squeezed your throat at your response, trailing his hand down to your panties as his fingers tugged them down and tossed them off.
There was a devilish smile on his lips almost instantly when Mason felt how wet you were, as the tip of his fingers parted your folds, brushing it against your slit. “Oh, baby… So wet for me.” He licked your juices off his fingers, letting out a moan at the feeling of your taste in his mouth. Mason leaned forward, lips brushing yours as you swallowed each other’s moans when the tip of his cock softly touched your pussy. “Is this what you want, Y/n?”
Mumbling nonsensical agreements, you tried to catch your breath as it felt like your whole body was on fire. You needed him inside you, filling you, making you feel complete. You could feel the pressure between your legs growing each second and he’d barely touched you, that’s how much power Mason had over you; you reached a hand forward to grasp his cock and guide it to your entrance but Mason quickly pushed you back to bed. Moans of pleasure fell from your lips when his fingers squeezed your throat again as his cock slid out of your reach.
“Fuck, Mason.” You whimpered, taking his cocky grin.
“No need to rush it, love.” He whispered against your skin while his teeth brushed the skin of your neck. His thumb found your clit and he started to draw sloppy circles against your sensitive bundle of nerves, the pressure making you squirm under Mason’s touch. “Come on, tell me what you want like the good girl you are and I’ll give it to you…” Mason teased, the tip of his fingers playing at your wet entrance.
“Your finge-ah, Mason!” You cried when he focused on your clit again. “Want your fingers inside me baby, please.”
Mason nodded and a finger slid inside you, curling inside your walls at a steady and delicious pace. Your mouth fell open in a soundless moan and my eyes closed as he continued his pace before pushing a second finger inside you. You clenched at the feeling of him stretching you, the noises as he pumped his fingers in and out you making you clench hard around it.
“You’re so deliciously tight, Y/n.” Mason groaned, taking your lips with his in the most passionate kiss, your tongues playing with each other as he swallowed your moans. When your lips parted, the look he had on his face made you feel again like your body was on fire, it felt like he was devouring your soul and perhaps he was.
“Give it to me, Mason.” You begged. “Let me feel you inside me.”
With a final pump inside you, making you catch your breath, Mason pulled his fingers out of you and instead of cleaning it with his tongue again, he brushed it against his cock, coating it with your juices. That was so fucking sexy that your mouth fell open with a gasp and your legs spread even more to welcome him back between you where he belonged. Lining himself between you, Mason thrusted inside you and you cried out at the feeling of your pussy stretching around him. He pulled himself out almost completely before thrusting back in.
Your palms fell back onto the bed, gripping the soft white sheet and pulling it against you as you offered yourself completely to him, his mouth falling from your lips only encouraged him to trust deeper and harder - your cries of lustful gratification making his cock twitch inside you and the coil between your legs grow tighter. He let go of your throat after giving it a final squeeze and fell forward, your hands clasping together and fingers wrapping.
“Mase, baby, let me-” You gasped, almost completely breathless as he kept moving, sweat making your thighs slip against each other. Mason slowed his pace a bit, lips parted and also curled in the most beautiful grin.
“What do you want, baby?” He whispered against your lips after leaning his head forward, his pace now so slow it could easily be called torture. “Tell me.” Mason demanded, thrusting hard against you.
“Ride you, I wanna ride you.” You huffed out, making Mason groan at your request.
You moaned at the sight of this muscles clenching when he grabbed your waist and flipped you so easily you felt like a rag doll - your body was weak, legs almost trembling as you felt you closer to the edge.
With your hands now on his chest, you grinned when Mason took your waist in his hands and his mouth fell open at the sight of his cock disappearing inside you again and you started to ride him at your own torturing pace.
“Such a good boy for me, Mase… You’re so good.” Mason moaned loudly with you praising him, his fingertips leaving marks on your skin. You felt your cheeks blush under his gaze when he looked up to you with hooded eyes.
“You’re so fucking pretty.” He moaned again, his head falling back against the mattress and drops of sweat fell down his temple, to his cheek and neck. “Such a fucking pretty slut, all for me, all mine.” Mason groaned, feeling you speeding up your pace as your nails marked his chest. He was now biting his bottom lip so hard you swore he’d draw blood. When your eyes catched his knuckles gripping your hips, helping you move, your walls tightened around him and that delicious pressure on your stomach grew. “Fuck baby, you’re close aren’t you?”
One hand left your hip and it moved to your stomach, pressing it as he hit you deep and hard. Then, it slipped to your pussy and his thumb was back circling your clit, rubbing the same sloppy circles. You whimpered and spasmed at the combination of his thumb and his cock, knowing you couldn’t last much longer.
“Come on Y/n.” His voice coached you. “Come on baby, I wanna feel you cumming all over my cock as the good girl you are.”
Your orgasm washed over you as you felt yourself tighten around Mason, pleasure shuddering hard through your body and onto his. At the change of pressure, you felt Mason release himself inside you and you let out a sighed moan at the warm feeling of his cum filling you. Moving a few more times, slowly, you then rolled off him, falling on your back into the bed, trying to catch your breath.
“Oh, Mason…” You sighed, eyes closing as he moved next to you and his fingers slipped inside you again not letting his cum drip out of your pussy.
“I love you, baby.” He whispered against your skin, his nose softly brushing your temple, down to your cheek and your neck. Mason pulled his finger from you, taking it to your mouth and you proudly cleaned it, making him smile.
“I love you too.” You said back, enjoying his presence and being grateful that he was always there to take care of you.
Whenever and however you needed.
#mason mount fanfic#mason mount imagine#mason mount smut#mason mount one shot#mason mount x y/n#mason mount x reader
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Can you write the dorm leaders realizing they find mc attractive?
i'm so sorry. first, for answering late. and second, for not being able to include riddle and vil. (it actually took me a lot more time to write those two, but it always end up horribly. so i had to scrap them. that was also part of the reason why i was working on this for so long.)
but please let me know if it isn't to your liking anon 😭
At what point in a relationship does one party find the other attractive? It could be as quick as a heartbeat, a single glance. It could be longer than a month, or long enough to watch the whites of winter thaw into the greens of spring.
What does being attractive mean to them? A face? A body? A surface-level understanding? Or gravitation to what lies deeper than bone, an understanding that pierced through the soul.
Five months.
A pretty face... Leona's seen many across the years. In all shapes, sizes, colors or form, each of them were as magnificent and lustrous as gemstones. But few could make a mark as lasting as yourself.
He should've known it when an herbivore like you came waltzing into his territory. He should've known it the moment you made a lion's den your home. He should've known sooner that you were just so damn...you.
You had metaphorical balls of steel, just prancing like some doe in a pit full of predators. All while staring them down too.
You were annoying, unrelenting and so painfully stupid that it almost made him cry. Almost.
It all started with chanced meetings made more frequent. Then he'd notice more details about you than before.
Your head, your lips, your fingers... Then he'd start smelling things that were too hidden to be perceived. Monday... A faint scent of lavender. Tuesday— lilacs. Wednesday— citrus...?
He began to anticipate it more and more. Until a whole five months passed, then he was sure.
"This may come to you as a surprise...but, I like you."
Three months.
Azul had long been jealous of beauty. Bodies that folk adore, a tail that could swim the fastest, and a face that could make the crowds swoon and fall at their feet.
And he's seen plenty of those, more than he could count. He was an avid collector, of trinkets and admirable qualities alike. He wanted them all. He deserved them all.
And he could've had it all if it weren't for you meddling kids. You foolhardy buffoons that, by chance, managed to stop his journey to omnipotence!
But enough of that, for he was now a changed man.
Now that he thought about it, you weren't as dense as your peers. You needed a decently sharp mind to be able to make sense of his plans, much more to be able to stop it.
What a fine investment that would be. And connections to powerful people as well? My, my, this day just keeps getting better and better.
But when he would expect a witty response, you'd answer with points that barely made sense. And when he was sure you'd elicit some unprompted stupidity, you'd quip with the most sound and foolproof ideas he's ever heard. How vexing. How vexing, indeed.
He wants a bit more information... Yes just that. But the chances of it spiraling into something more... It completely slipped his mind.
"I have an offer you possibly cannot refuse."
Thirty seconds.
Kalim was an easy-going soul, carefree and sheltered since the day he was born into this world. So of course it was easy for him to fall for someone.
It was no surprise that he gets so attracted so easily. Be it an object, a pet, or another person, Kalim was almost immediately gushing and cooing the moment he decided that, 'Yes! This is the one!'
That thirty seconds, from start to finish, was utterly beautiful. He felt like the entire cosmos exploded inside him. Suddenly, he felt vitality surge through his veins, he felt like he wanted to scream to the world.
The jewels, the golds and silvers, the relics worth millions that lay in his treasury were but grains in comparison to you. He wanted to show you the world, the beauty of it.
He wanted to show you the oranges of the sunset skies, the glittering azure of the oases and the caramel dunes of sands that stretched as far as the eye could see.
"I want to dance forever, sing and laugh forever. And I think it would be a lot better if we do it together."
Two years.
Idia doesn't care about looks— or anything, in general. As long as he's got good internet and Ortho around, there's nothing he should worry about.
Love... How complex it was. It was easier to understand the gibberish codes of machine than emotion— emotion which was spontaneous and ever-changing.
He doesn't need a player two.
He was perfectly fine on his own. He's been doing it for the past years, so what's the difference? 99.99% he would do better solo-ing everything, ±.01 margin of error.
He didn't expect a blindingly bright, relentless, peppy, annoying ball of you to be that tiny margin of error.
"Go outside."
"No."
Surprisingly, you were good at most games he's played. But still a rookie, he's gotta work on that.
He would still curse — and blush — at that fateful Saturday afternoon. The day you two snuck out for a comic convention turned movie night turned boardwalk fair date.
It kept on happening and happening, more time with you. It became a constant that he looked forward to, an external push that he welcomed.
"So... About that 'no player two' thing I said a while back... I, uh... I kinda want to take that back."
Still.
You held a pretty face. He knew it the moment the panicked look on your face greeted his own questioning looks. It was toleration, that he was sure of. Toleration of another soul that dared sully the building that he visited nightly.
But it grew and grew through the months. After the winter, the day of the VDC, through the frightful night of Halloween, after you were taken away and left the ruins of a home. And until your much-awaited return.
He was waiting. He pondered and pondered, his thoughts were laced with doubt and distrust— in you and in himself. As longing of affection as he may be, he wasn't one to let himself slip so easily.
A year had elapsed, since his first encounter to Ramshackle's newest resident. A year of flurried thoughts and a hectic juggle between his dorm, his kingdom and you.
He still wanted to know more about you. There's much yet to be learned, viewpoints that he's yet to know.
"Is it unusual that I still could not make a sound decision? I worry that it may be telling of poor leadership."
"No, no. It's alright, I'm willing to wait for your decision."
"...Thank you."
#twst#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#gn!mc#gender neutral reader#twst x reader#twst fanfic#twst fanfiction#twst oneshot#twst fluff#leona kingscholar x reader#leona kingscholar#azul ashengrotto x reader#azul ashengrotto#kalim al asim#kalim al asim x reader#idia shroud#idia shroud x reader#malleus draconia#malleus draconia x reader#writing#my writing#answered ask
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Hiiii! Hope your having a great day or night :D
So I was wondering if you could write the rottmnt boys with a gn!s/o who does that really dramatic faint. You know the one where they put there hand to their forehead and fall backwards. Its all in good fun ofc their not actually fainting
Ignore if you want this came to me at 2 am lol
Hello lovely anon! This was such a fun request to write, and I hope that you enjoy it!! I adore doing stuff like the dramatic faint lmao, so this might've come from personal indulgence as well :>
|| ᴛʜᴇᴀᴛʀɪᴄꜱ || ʀᴏᴛᴛᴍɴᴛ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ||
[ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]
“Woah!” You cry out, narrowly avoiding Leo crashing into you on his skateboard. Leo skids to a stop, and you narrow your eyes at him. He rubs the back of his neck, sending you a sheepish smile.
“My bad,” He chuckles.
“Dude, you could’ve killed me!” You gesture to him, flabbergasted at the audacity.
“C’mon, I said sorry!” He protests, and you roll your eyes, hiding a smirk when you realize the only way your words would get through to him.
Drama.
“The thing is, I don’t think I feel very well now. I think I’m in – in shock!” You feign a swoon, your right hand over your heart while your left-hand presses against your forehead. You begin to fall backwards, unable to hide your grin, when you hear his skateboard clatter to the ground, landing safely in his arms.
You open your eyes to see concerned blue staring down at you.
“Are you okay?” He asks worriedly, the tails of his bandanna ticking your nose. You scrunch your nose, unable to hold back the amused giggle that spills past your lips. His shoulders sag in relief, rolling his eyes playfully when he realizes your theatrics.
“Okay, okay. I’ll be more careful next time.”
“Oh, great Galileo!” You swoon in your seat, the back of your hand resting on your forehead as you imitate the scientist’s usual dramatics. It’s all in good fun, and you spot the slight twitch of his lips that suggest the ghost of a smile.
“Please, I’d do so much better than that,” Donnie remarks, fingers tapping away on his controller as his eyes remain trained on the screen. He’s busy trying to beat his high score, a feat he achieved a mere couple of days ago.
You frown at his lack of attention, slumping back in your seat with a bored groan. You stare at the ceiling, an idea taking shape in your mind. You smile slyly, casually making your way over until you’re beside his screen.
“Oh, My Science! I suddenly seem to have lost all feeling in my legs!” You cry out sarcastically, pressing the back of your hand against your forehead and falling with your back to the hard floor. Donnie’s alarmed by the sudden interruption, barely able to register what you’ve just done as he automatically tries to catch you.
“Woah!” He yelps, eyes wide as his arms reach out. You land safely in them, giggling at the sudden impact. He groans, your limbs a tangled mess as he tries to sort them out. You glance up, humour dancing in your eyes with a playful yet teasing smirk.
“Looks like that finally got your attention.”
“Here, babe, I got you some of those cookies you like!” Raph enters the room with a bag of treats, wincing when he sees your curled-up state on his bed. “Those cramps still hittin’ hard?”
Your soft groan is all it takes for him to drop everything to get on the bed next to where you’ve buried your head in the pillow. He tenderly wraps his arms around you, helping you sit upright in his lap.
“Thank you, love.” You murmur, half groggy from having woken up from a nap just before your boyfriend entered the room. You spot the bag on the floor, looking at him curiously.
“Oh, it’s not much, just some stuff I thought would help you recover.” He picks up the bag, turns it upside down and lets all the sweet treats he’s managed to gather scatter onto the bed carelessly.
“I also got some ice cream.”
Your eyes light up at that, your heart warming at the fact that he had bothered to think about you in your pained state.
“You’re such a gentleman,” You jokingly swoon, almost sliding off his lap as you fall backwards in a dramatic faint. He drops the empty bag, catching you with worried eyes and a gentle hold.
“Babe, don’t do that!” He chides, shaking his head with a sigh. “Sometimes you’re even worse than Leo when it comes to theatrics.”
You giggle, leaning up to press a chaste kiss against his cheek, watching the green skin slowly turn into a shade of red that matches his mask.
“That’s why you love me, sweetums.”
You stare down at the bowl in front of you, eyeing it hungrily. Michelangelo watches you with eager eyes from the stove, waiting for you to take a bite of the stew. You gingerly pick up your spoon, scooping some of the hot stew and blowing on it to cool it down.
You bite down, eyes widening in surprise. It’s sweet, sour, and spicy. All your favourites in one. However, Mikey takes your raised brows as bad news, practically wilting beside you.
“It’s not good, is it. I knew I should’ve used more chicken….” He mumbles, arms hanging limply at his sides. You shake your head frantically, reaching out and catching hold of his arm before he walks away completely.
“No love, it’s delicious! I really, really like it!”
“I dunno. Maybe I should just drop out of the competition.”
"Are you kidding me, babe? This is genuinely the best thing I've ever had! Maybe even better than your brownies." You protest, taking another bite and humming in delight, deciding there was no other way to get through to him besides theatrics.
You swoon, spoon clattering on the counter as you fall backwards off the chair. You hear him suck in a sharp breath through his teeth, moving to grab ahold of you before your back meets the hard floor.
You open your eyes, chuckling when you see Mikey’s relieved expression. The both of you are on the floor, Mikey’s arms wrapped protectively around you. You press a kiss against his jaw as he helps you up, and he perks up a little at the intimate touch.
“Babe, just try it.” You scoop some of the stew onto your spoon, holding it out to him. He hesitates, but your pleading eyes make him cave in with a reluctant sigh. He takes a bite from the spoon, chewing slowly as he hums thoughtfully. “Hey, this is actually pretty good!” He says, surprised by his own cooking. You giggle, nudging his side with a smirk.
“I told you so.”
#rottmnt#rottmnt x reader#rottmnt asks#leonardo x reader#raphael x reader#michelangelo x reader#donatello x reader#rottmnt donnie#rottmnt leo#rottmnt raph#rottmnt mikey#rottmnt donnie x reader#rottmnt leo x reader#rottmnt raph x reader#rottmnt mikey x reader#tmnt x reader#rottmnt x you#rottmnt x y/n
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Enough
Pairing; Shigaraki x AFAB reader
Genre; Smut
Word Count; 2k
Warnings; Cockwarming, degradation, dacryphilia, gamer chair sex, choking, friend with benefits, slight cnc elements if u squint, its actually pretty tame lollll
『♡』•『♡』•『♡』•『♡』
“Wow! You got me! That’ll be your last time!”
Cringe video game dialogue rang in your ear, with the bright flashing colors of the monitor making your eyes sting in the dark room. The faint smell of stale food and soiled clothes that littered the yellowed carpet drifted into your nose. It was nice, despite the nasty stench if you took in too deep of a breath. But it comforted you, since it was the room of Shigarakis, your boyfriend. At least that's how you felt towards him, he was your rock, the one who made you laugh and cry over nothing all at once. Spilling alcohol over the counter at his home bar, him grasping your waist to steady you when your drunken form almost tripped over the stool, such a small moment that felt like the world to you. You hoped he felt the same.
The two of you never dared to put a label on your relationship, but it was so much more than just a friendship; friends don’t grip the hair on your head with such a vice it brings tears to your eyes, guiding your saliva filled mouth down the length of his cock, drawing a moan out of the both of you. Friends don’t look up at the other with the biggest puppy dog eyes, filled with adoration and lust, just like how your mouth was filled with the heaviness of his pulsing head. Friends don’t try to jerk off the rest of what your mouth can’t reach, the veins and velvety skin feeling like heaven in your palms as you try to work him to his release. Friends don’t take in a sharp breath, groaning out loud and long as hot cum shoots down your throat, filling your belly with his burning seed, drawing a moan out of your throat as you work him through his release. “Fuck baby, just like that, your throat feels so good,” Friends don’t say things like that, with his head fallen back on his tense shoulders, eyes squeezed shut as he fucks your throat through his orgasm. Friends definitely don't let that be a regular occurance.
You felt Shigarakis hips buck, letting a small moan tumble from your otherwise silent form. He was leaning closer to the screen, thumbs smashing the console controller with all his focus. The slight movement gave you the relief you were silently begging for, you didn’t know how much longer you could take just sitting on his cock. “Please..” you begged, needing more than the slight movements he wasn’t paying any mind to.
He only seethed in response, telling you to “Shut the fuck up,” and you knew you shouldn’t push him any more or else you would never get what you wanted. His brows furrowed intently on his character, the soft glow of the monitor casted a beautiful hue on his pale, fragmented skin. If it wasn’t for his pulsing cockhead nestled nicely in your cunt, you would’ve swooned by how pretty he looks. Your small hands gripped the fabric of his black jeans, baggy just enough for you to get a tight hold on the denim.
Testing the waters, you slightly moved your hips, caution thrown out the window when need took over. Shigaraki didn’t notice at first, still too engrossed in the fighting combos he was mashing into the controller. You took that as a sign to keep going, circling your hips in a way that allowed his length to hit that sweet spot deep inside you, making you stutter in your ministrations. He felt your trembling body, pleasure shooting through him making his hands falter on the controller and subsequently killing his character from the lack of movement.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Shigaraki spat, making you flinch at the intensity of his voice, opening your mouth to protest, he cut you off. “I told you to stay fucking still, are you too dumb to follow simple directions? Too cock hungry? That’s it huh,” he let out a dangerous laugh, the rumbling of his chest shooting straight to your core.
“You’re too much of a mindless bitch to think of anything other than my dick,” he thrusted up, emphasizing the phallic word. You jerked forward, hands leaving his pants to grip the edge of his desk. Another moan leaving your lips as your only response. Shigaraki hissed at that, snaking his right hand up your naked body, to your throat, the pinky extended, “you like knowing I could kill you right here, with your pretty pussy clenching around my cock, right?” Your breathing constricted with his tightening grip on your throat, feeling the fuzziness in your head as he continued to thrust up. You couldn’t deny him even if you wanted to, the danger of a top villain wrapped so tightly around you, the fifth finger of the weapon mere centimeters away from your throat. The thrill only spurred your moving hips on, grinding your soaking cunt further down on his thick member. He brought you up from the desk, meeting his chest to your back.
“You’re so pitiful,” He breathed against your ear, chapped lips brushing your earlobe, the sensation causing you to moan. You were so terribly sensitive, feeling every long drag of him against your walls, the veins and ridges marking their territory. His cock felt so heavy in you, burning you up from the inside out. Despite how desperate cock-warming makes you after a while, the sensation of sitting pretty on him without being expected to fuck instantly was unlike any other, it dared to have love bloom in your heart. Getting so close to a villain that has killed so many, in such an intimate way, made you want to stay that way with him forever. Knowing that nobody will be able to achieve what you were doing.
You don’t know what made you stand out from the rest, because no matter how much Shigaraki tried to ignore it, he had a relatively large fanbase of horny and deranged girls fawning over every step he makes. The reality both made him scowl and feel a sense of pride. He still refused to pay any attention to it, though. Which only made you more confused, why you? Was it how ordinary you were, with your stable restaurant job at the time of meeting him, a quaint apartment, living a normal life. Or was it the unusual quirkless factor to you, making you stick out just enough for people to ask questions, but not enough to have any lingering thought. Maybe it was how you have a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, getting caught in the crossfire of a fight between the league and another minor group. Shigaraki himself doesn’t even know why he was drawn to you, drawn to ‘save’ you, to take you with him and cultivate you into his most prized possession.
One thing you did know for sure, was that despite how the two of you devoted yourselves to the other, Shigarakis fear of pure intimacy and love– mixed with your timid nature, not willing to make the first move– kept the two of you in a weird limbo of being ‘just friends.’ Everyone in the league called bullshit, but it wasn’t enough for you two to come forth with your feelings. So, for the time being, you just fucked like rabbits.
The other hand, not wrapped around your throat, drifted down your body to land on your dripping cunt. His nimble fingers took no time to get to work, breathing out another moan as his thumb and pointer rolled your clit between the calloused skin. Shigaraki was a fast learner, that much was evident in the way he could easily work you to an orgasm with ease. His fingers memorized each sweet spot that had you jerking forward. Rubbing tight circles on you, Shigaraki relished in how easily you melted into his touches, a different sort of pride washed over him, knowing nobody else could pleasure you like he could.
“Please, more, I’m so close,” You whined, one hand coming to catch on his wrist, not to stop his movements, but to have something other than the fabric of his gaming chair to hold onto. The other hand snaked up his neck, burying your fingers into the mess of powder blue hair.
“Please..? What more could you need?” He laughed, pinching your clit with a force that had you twitching and pulling at his hair. He groaned at the feeling, leaving his hand on your throat to grip your chin, twisting your head to look at him. Shigaraki loved the look on your face when he was balls deep in you while his fingers played with your cunt. Rosy-pink painted your cheeks perfectly, sweat beading down your forehead to mix with the tears falling from your hazy eyes.
He could only moan at the sight, pulling you in for a deep kiss. You could feel your lips bruising at the aching force he kissed you, unable to do more than kiss back, mind too clouded with pleasure to do anything else. Shigarakis teeth bit your bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood and make you pull away from him in pain. Eyes scrunched up as pleasure and pain mixed in a way your body could have never imagined. “You’re so beautiful..” It was barely a murmur, and his soft words were coupled with the feeling of his tongue licking up the spilled blood from your lip. If you were in any other state you would have been taken aback, but right now all you can think of is how his cock is kissing that spongy spot deep inside of you so perfectly.
Shigaraki’s body tensed up below you, an early sign of how close he was. Your legs shifted, his hands leaving your body to move you into a different position. Then, you were turned around and facing him, legs on either side of his lean frame, tits pressing up nicely against his pale chest. Your head fell to his shoulder, leaning against the muscle as your hips continued to grind down. His hands found themselves on your hips, all eight fingers gripping the flesh with a newfound intensity. Shigaraki made sure to move you in the way he needed, to make sure his cock slipped in and out of your tight walls deliciously. Your clit brushed against the rough patch of pubic hair and that was all you needed to give you the much needed push you to your orgasm.
Your entire body spasmed, his cock continuing to work you through your release. Shigaraki felt a sharpness, looking down to see you biting his shoulder through a loud moan of orgasmic pleasure. His grip on your hips didn’t let up, even as you pushed against him as you climbed down from your high, the feeling just too much. You were much too sensitive now. “I-I cant, please, no more,” You cried out to him, tears falling down your pretty cheeks.
“You just asked for more, and now you can’t handle it?” He grunted out, using your body as his own little fleshlight. He couldn’t lie, Shigaraki relished in your cries for him to stop. Knowing he had so much control over your little body, over your tight cunt, over you and your love, the thought was enough to bring him to his own orgasm. Hot ropes of cum spurting from his cock, painting your walls in his white fluid, making sure to stuff you with every last drop. You were shaking like a leaf, still trying to come down from the overstimulation. He felt your breath fanning across his scarred neck, only peeking his eyes open to see your head rested on his shoulder in blissful peace. He couldn’t help the small smile. His hands rubbed up and down your back, feeling the goosebumps under his palms. Cum continued to spill out of you, dripping onto the base of his cock only to get spread on your thighs.
You placed faint kisses on his neck, grinning softly against the skin. And then, you were back to square one, sitting on Shigaraki’s now flaccid dick. But the thought of leaving the comfort of his arms didn’t even cross your mind, instead choosing to relish in the warmth and touch of the villain.
#shigaraki x reader#shigaraki smut#shigaraki x reader smut#mha smut#mha fanfiction#bnha#bnha smut#shigaraki tomura#tomura shigaraki x reader#mha
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SAKAMAKI BROS BODY HEADCANONS! :D
𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐬 𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬
𝐒𝐡𝐮
His body’s strong and he has muscles, but they’re not defined. Faint lines show they’re there, but it’s mostly just due to metabolism.
The guy barely walks or runs, I doubt an eight pack’s there. I don’t even know why Rejet decided to put on their canon art that Shu apparently has abs but go off
He has very broad, classical shoulders; think of Shang from Mulan. Because of his developing trauma with depression and apathy, Shu took sword fighting less seriously in his middle teens so there was ligament straining not too long after. Beatrix, being extremely fearful for Shu’s future, began to be extremely strict with warm up stretches before and after training sessions.
Doesn’t shave often. His face? He’ll try to make the effort. Uses straight razors because he hasn’t caught onto gillette and has slept through every innovation the shaving industry’s accomplished. Plus it only takes ten seconds max to replace the razor with a brand new one and the blade’s cheaper.
But anywhere else? Shaves every two-three months minimum. The longest he hasn’t gone is eight years. Do what you will with that information
His legs are his gems and his calves are impressive. They’re the most toned part of his body. Shu likes to sleep barefoot because socks get uncomfortable to sleep in when they’re moist with sweat so there’s a tan line from his ankles and where his pants end.
Yes, he has a happy trail.
𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐣𝐢
Although he started late into swordfighting, his body’s much more built than Shu’s because Reiji’s been fairly consistent with his training. No stagnancy, just enough recovery periods before he gets back on his feet.
An athletic build. He doesn't really have the muscular physique of a footballer, but equivalent to that of a fencer’s.
Loves the feeling of his soft, shaved, moisturized skin rubbing against the material of his clothes or his silk sleepwear. He keeps it a secret but the amount of unscented lotion this man has would have you confusing him for Laito.
His abdomen is much more defined than his chest.
Reiji has stretch marks around his shoulders. When he got into swordfighting, Reiji was obsessed with surpassing Shu in such a short amount of time that his skin was stretching far too quickly for his own good.
𝐀𝐲𝐚𝐭𝐨
The classic basketball athlete physique; not too muscular, but good enough in areas that need it. His lower body’s better than his upper body mainly because Ayato kept losing to Subaru so he decided to up his footwork.
His figure's pretty common in the basketball community, but the only singular difference between them and Ayato is that he loves showing off his toned body whenever he gets the chance. A little sneak peek disguised as him readjusting his shorts, taking off his basketball jersey to wipe sweat from his forehead, cheerleaders swoon over him and he knows it.
His body’s physically better at sports than all of the triplets. He can run faster, jump higher, his endurance is pretty amazing, you get the gist.
Ayato’s body is the most toned in the family because in his diet regime, he cuts rather than bulk. Ayato loves himself and doesn’t understand why he’d sacrifice his present muscles to gain more protein and bigger muscles, only to pile months of cutting for the newer, bigger muscles to show.
Simply put: He’s lazy and doesn’t want to sacrifice his good looking body when his body’s the “best it is now”.
When he started to lose muscle definition because there was a 24/7 takayoki all-you-can-eat buffet place and the grand prize was a three month 70% discount card, Ayato legitimately broke down crying because it was either his body or takayoki that had to go.
𝐋𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐨
Naturally has the body type that current popular models want: androdygenous, but not really. Cordelia’s genes really came through because his body is scarily symmetrical.
Religiously shaves, dermaplanes or waxes, depending on how large the coverage is.
Every part of his body’s been moisturized to perfection. Every part.
His figure’s pretty lanky despite being shorter than Reiji and his pants don’t help but add to that illusion. Laito’s stomach and v-line are more prominent than any muscles in his body, due to his night time ‘hobbies’.
His chest is the weakest in the family. At first they all agreed it was Kanato, but Laito and Kanato might as well in the same category if they weren't gonna sugarcoat anything at that point.
Gets confused for a girl a lot. When people see his back profile or are behind him, it just reasonably registers in their heads. It also might be due to the erotic pilates that his ass makes it harder for people to not notice he’s a guy at first glance.
Has a bumpy, v-shaped mole under his left ass cheek. He likes to cop a feel every once in a while. This became an inside joke between Subaru and Laito that the V is missing two curves or, ‘3’, to complete a heart; a joke that Laito needs to be dicked down or cowgirl-ed.
“Heheh… Oi Laito, found those two curves yet?”
“Do keep asking me in the hopes you’ll find some yourself, Subaru-kun?”
𝐊𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐨
Very doll-like to the point where it’s uncanny valley levels. Not a single blemish, pimple scarring, it’s so freakishly unnatural to the point where it’s unnerving.
His physique’s quite scrawny in vampire standards. It’s almost impressive that in a society full of hulking, domineering monsters, Kanato’s body is considered a miracle with how dainty, coquettish; and dare I say angelic, it is.
Kanato’s skin looks unnaturally translucent. In room lightning, you can easily see blue veins running under his boney arms.
When he stretches, his bones (especially his ribcage) look like they’re going to pop out of his skin. The worst offense to this is that if he’s wearing a thin cloth material such as silk, nylon or finely compressed cotton, it really does look like his bones are protruding from his body.
The only Sakamaki that can’t grow body hair. It never really introduced itself during puberty. Kanato has a love-hate relationship with this because it’s made him feel left out and made him feel that he was stripped out of his masculinity. All his other brothers got their chance, why didn’t he?
At the same time, he’s relieved. It brings him closer to the unreachable perfection of what a doll looks like; docile, cute and decievely kitsch.
Gets dysphoric quite often. Should he hate his hair? Should he love it? He’s the only one who inherited it, so does that mean that he should be proud of the love it brought? Was it even love?
Why does he feel like this?
𝐒𝐮𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐮
The skin on Subaru’s hands aren’t even. There’s deep slashes of discolored scarring that spread out like electricity.
Gets red easily. Whether it’s caused by rashes, irritation, gashes or vampire allergies, one speckle is enough to make him look like a lobster.
There’s large dots that are speckled and look like freckles or ladybug spots on the back of his legs. They’re actually small scars caused by Younger Subaru landing on a bed of thorny, white roses while escaping his tutors to visit Christa.
Ranked as the second best body in the family. He carries the title proudly.
The only reason he’s not first is because the family discussion was about who's got the most defined body, not really on who’s got the most muscle mass.
Really fits the young, rebellious rogue image; strong, well-built and rough around the edges. There are times where he wonders if his mother would be happier if he portrayed a more princely image that’s reminiscent of Karl’s earlier years.
Maybe it's for the best that he didn’t.
His forearms are bigger than his calves.
Chest and arm gains for days. They make him look more intimidating and it removes any soft features he inherited from Christa. Subaru has the biggest developed chest, but not necessarily the broadest. That goes to Shu during his swordsmanship days.
Loves the way his arms make his prey gulp in fear. The mere thought that they’re antipicating what those arms of his are gonna do to them gets his blood going.
He doesn’t see himself the way his mirror does. Whenever he does catch a glimpse of himself, there’s always two common sights he’ll see: a disfigured, male version of his mother or his crying child self.
What these two have in common is that there’s this imminent feeling that something’s horribly ‘wrong’ within Subaru; a deep-rooted defect that can’t be loved.
#diabolik lovers#diabolik lovers fandom#diahell#sakamaki brothers#shu sakamaki#reiji sakamaki#ayato sakamaki#laito sakamaki#kanato sakamaki#subaru sakamaki#headcanons#diabolik lovers headcanons#dl#dialovers#diabolik brothers
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Hey, Lover (Chapter 1)
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Bret was only supposed to deliver flowers to Shawn, not fall in love with him.
(Quintessential Delivery Boy x Househusband bretshawn au)
a/n: Hi hello, how y'all doing? Remember that one time I wrote this fic? A year ago, I think? Wild. Since Christmas break is coming along and I don't have classes until the 22nd, I was thinking I should finish this small fic-let. Thank you for readin'
I've rejected affection for years and years. Now I have it, and damn it, it's kind of weird. He tells me I'm pretty. Don't know how to respond. I tell him that he's pretty too. Can I say that? Don't have a clue - "Valentine", Laufey
The flower shop was the apotheosis of all flower shops—small but brimming with buckets and pots of flowers. A tender farrago of lilies, carnations, and hydrangeas filled the room. The floor was a mess of leaves and rogue petals; the shelves above, a nest of ribbons and silk. Wrapping papers crumpled, and the radio sang. Sunlight filtered through sheer curtains and bathed the room in warmth; dust and pollen danced in its rays. It was a peek into the world through pink-tinted glasses, a sea of reds and whites. And in the middle of it all, Bret arranged roses as if he were a man on a mission.
Like clockwork, Bret tied a bow around the neck of the bouquet and gently placed it beside the others he had made. He rubbed the underside of his nose to block the overpowering aroma of flowers. The corners of his lips tugged into a frown. Customers would say the scent was heavenly; Bret would beg to differ. Curly black tresses framed his face as the sound of hushed giggles drowned the staccato melodies of the radio. An annoyed huff sliced through the air. Bruce, Bret’s brother, let out an exasperated sigh, his nose buried between the pages of his newspaper.
“Would you two stop poking your noses where they don’t belong?”
Bruce’s reprimand fell on deaf ears. Bret turned his head to Owen and Elizabeth, the sides of their faces glued to the cracked door of their parents’ shared office. It wasn’t too long ago that a tall man came barreling down the shop doors, wallet in his hands like a rifle ready to shoot through every assortment of tulips and orchids. The stranger was a far cry from their regular customers. He didn’t have the caved shoulders of a shy teen or the worried lines of a husband who forgot his anniversary. He was confident and sharp, savvy like a businessman with a heartthrob smile. He wasn’t the average Joe. And after such a slow day of work, his intrusion caught everyone’s attention. It’s been ten minutes since their parents whisked the man away into their office, and Owen and Elizabeth sat fixated on the shadows that shifted underneath the gap in the door.
Owen waved his hand, and his sandy blonde hair swayed as he did so. He reeled his head back to face his brother’s furrowed brows with furrowed brows of his own. “Pipe down, Bruce. I can’t hear a thing over your yapping.”
The older Hart gritted his teeth, ready to crack from the tension of his jaw. Before he had the chance to stand, roll his newspaper, and whack Owen upside the head, Elizabeth squealed and stopped him dead in his tracks. Four pairs of eyes darted to her as she slid her back down the wall, her hands on her flushed cheeks.
“He ordered fifty roses.” She swooned, the skirt of her lilac dress pooling around her as she sat on the floor. Owen scrambled beside his sister, his head cemented onto the door once more. As the conversation beyond the door rambled on, Owen hung onto every faint word his ears could decipher.
“Fifty roses!” Owen gasped, disbelief in his eyes. The blonde turned his head to his brothers and wiggled his eyebrows, “Talk about a Casanova.”
Elizabeth pushed herself to her feet, leaves on her skirt. “Isn’t it romantic?” she mused starry-eyed. “I’d love to get a bouquet like that,” she sighed, her head tilted heavenward.
Jim rolled his eyes at her daydreaming, gaze as dark as the stem-covered marble counter he lay on. He pursed his lips and twirled a flower between his fingers, “Fifty roses are daylight robbery. Pretty sappy if you ask me.” He plucked a leaf from its stem. “This guy must be loaded to make an order like that.”
Bruce sat down on a stool, the soles of his shoes balanced on its footrest. He shrugged his shoulders as he opened his newspaper and went to the page he left off. “That just means there’s more money for us.” He leaned his head back and laughed.
The office door suddenly flew open and thwacked Owen square on the face. A groan escaped the blonde’s lips. But his pain was left muted by the gruff voice of the man that opened the door. “Watch it, twerp,” the man snapped, his face red and his suit white.
Cowboy hat on his head, chocolate-colored eyes pointed to the studded watch on his wrist. The man’s black loafers, shined to perfection, smacked against the checker-tiled floor. Like a tornado, he stormed out of the shop and knocked every pot that stood in his way. Bret stared as the stranger crossed the street, entered his eggshell-colored limousine, and drove off. Bruce grumbled as he, Jim, and Elizabeth picked up the pots the man pushed down. Owen shakily stood up beside Bret with his hands on his nose and redness on his forehead. “I’m not delivering for that jerk,” he sneered. He patted Bret on the shoulder, “He’s all yours.”
Before Bret could retort, their parents strode into the room, an argument along with them. “We can’t possibly have fifty roses ready for today,” Helen bickered as she unfolded the napkin their customer gave, her hair brown like the apron she wore. “We won’t have them restocked until Saturday.”
Stu huffed as his eyes darted around his shop before they stopped on the rose bouquets on Bret’s work table. He grabbed the flowers and began to unwrap them. He piled the roses into a hill and cast everything else aside. Bret sputtered, his shades sliding down the bridge of his nose as he did so, “Dad, those were an order for Miss Mae–”
“Miss Mae can wait, Bret.” Stu wrapped the roses with precision. Helen sighed beside him as she plucked a notecard and began to write down whatever their latest client scribbled on the coffee-stained napkin. “Mr. Layfield is paying big money to have his delivery done today,” Stu explained. “It’s the biggest order we got since we opened, so we should make him happy.”
It didn’t take long for Bret to have a behemoth of a bouquet in his arms and a clipboard tucked under his chin. Bret could feel the dull pinch of thorns on his biceps; the aroma of roses bombarded his nose as it completely buried his upper body. With one last tweak on the bouquet from his mother, Bret was out the door and into the delivery truck. Before he could drive off, his father’s voice rang in the breeze. Bret peeked over the roses to see Stu waving at him. “Take off your sunglasses!” he exclaimed, hands around his mouth to amplify his words. Bret fought to roll his eyes as he dragged his sunglasses to the top of his head and steered the truck into the busy streets.
Bret passed a flurry of saloons and office buildings. The world outside the truck was a blur of greens and grays. White picket fences turned into towering hedgerows, wooden street lights turned into metal lamp posts, and mismatched row houses turned into palatial mansions. Bret’s delivery truck stuck out like a sore thumb in the presence of luxury sedans. A low whistle escaped his lips as he slowed to a halt in front of the rose bouquet’s intended.
A mansion stood tall in the presence of neatly trimmed hedges and surrounded by an army of limousines and cars. Upon the home’s slate roof was an array of leaves connected to twining vines that hugged its brick walls, and behind those vines were large arched windows, like hair that covered soulful eyes. Bret could faintly make out the beige curtains behind the glass panes. He grabbed the bouquet and reveled in the manor’s beauty. It was the picture of pristine perfection, a scene straight from the home magazines his mother would regularly read. Bret would’ve been impressed if the mansion didn’t look like every other house in the cul-de-sac. He grabbed the rose bouquet and slipped his clipboard on top of it. The gravel path crinkled underneath his feet as he walked to the manor’s grand double doors. The sun bore onto his skin as Bret pushed the doorbell with his elbow. He rolled his eyes at the sound of cowbells that echoed in his ears. The doorbell tune was ostentatious as the roses in his hands.
Silence filtered the air. Bret clicked his tongue and pushed the doorbell again, the sound of the doorbell more annoying than the first. He juggled the flowers in his hands as he looked down at the address written on his clipboard. The idea of being in the wrong house filled his mind, but before Bret could turn his back from the door, it swung open. ‘Finally,’ Bret thought. With his eyes still on his clipboard, he tilted his head to the side. “Does Mr. Shawn Layfield live here?” he asked.
“Well, hello to you too, handsome,” a voice drawled, sweet like honey and slow like molasses.
Bret’s head shot up as a chill ran down his spine. His dark eyes landed on the man in front of him, his breath hitched. Bret balanced the bouquet in one hand as he tugged on the collar of his pink shirt with the other. He expected the thick velvet of a butler’s tuxedo, not the glossy sheen of a silk robe. He expected thinning silver hair, not damp blond curls that clung to tanned skin. Bret was ready to smell the musk of dust, not the aroma of cigarettes and Parisian perfume. He shook his head in a vain attempt to escape the other man’s allure. “I have flowers for him.”
Shawn’s smile widened, “Are they from you?”
“They’re from–” Bret read his clipboard – “Mr. John Bradshaw Layfield.”
The blond’s smile left as fast as it came. He pursed his lips like he was chewing on a lemon rind and leaned against the door frame. “A bit over-the-top, isn’t it?”
Bret gave a wry grin. “I wouldn’t know. I’m just the delivery boy.” Bret waited for the other to take the bouquet from his hands. But the door only opened wider. The delivery boy raised a brow; his head cocked to the side.
“What?” Shawn shrugged; his robe slid down his shoulder as he did so. “You don’t expect me to carry all of that, do you?”
Bret blinked owlishly. Shawn seemed perfectly capable of carrying the order. He gazed at the taut muscle underneath Shawn’s clothes for a moment. And at the drop of a hat, Bret’s eyes stayed pointedly on the blond’s bedroom eyes. “You’re a delivery boy,” Shawn continued. He stepped to the side, his brow in a sly arch, “Go on and deliver.”
Bret frowned and took a wary step. Shawn guided him into the living room, and Bret followed as if God watched him. Cautious and guarded, Bret took each step as if it was his last. The shuffle of carpet slowly replaced the sound of shoes against the wooden floor. And Bret caught himself in the company of lush couches and intricate cabinets as Shawn excused himself to get a vase. He tapped his toe against the white tiger rug underneath him as the chandelier shined above his head. To say Bret felt out of place was an understatement. The living space was lavish, just like everything else in the mansion. Bookshelves as tall as the ceiling covered half of the room, each shelf overflowing with novels and encyclopedias. In the corner was a grand piano, free from dust and fingerprints. Paintings upon paintings hung from the walls, bronze candelabras scattered along the corridors. Bret narrowed his eyes. There were no framed pictures or lightly stained patches on the floor. The house was opulent, but it didn’t seem as lived-in as it should be. His contemplation was interrupted by Shawn’s call.
“Tell me, delivery boy, what do these flowers mean?” He asked as he placed the water-filled vase on the coffee table and situated himself on one of the many chairs in the room. “Don’t they have meanings? The language of flowers and whatnot.”
Bret hesitantly unwrapped the bouquet and propped the roses inside the porcelain vase. He handed the notecard to the blond with a rehearsed smile, “That’s what cards are for.”
“You are so boring.” Shawn stretched on the chair; his legs dangled on its cushioned armrest. “Read the note for me.”
The delivery boy exhaled through his nose and closed his eyes. Bret would’ve left ages ago if his father wasn’t so insistent about pleasing their clients. Not wanting to waste any more time, he began to read the card. “Love of my life–”
“Is it too late to return the bouquet?”
Bret couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped him. The corner of Shawn’s lip quirked up at the sound of his laughter. He twirled a strand of his golden hair between his fingers, “You should rest a bit before you go.” Shawn stood up and strolled towards Bret, “You must be tired.” He brushed his hand against Bret’s forearm and grinned at the way his Adam’s apple bobbed.
“I should go, Mr. Layfield–”
“Call me Shawn.” He peeked up at Bret through his lashes, “You’ve got a name, delivery boy?”
“What I do have are other deliveries to do.” Bret felt his cheeks warm as he raised his clipboard and offered the other man a pen, “I need your signature, Mr. Layf– Shawn.”
Shawn pouted, his shoulders sagged as he took the pen and clipboard from Bret’s grasp; their fingers brushed against one another. Bret bit his top lip as Shawn signed the paper with a flourish and gave the clipboard back to him. The delivery boy could feel the tension leave his body; this whole fiasco was finally sealed to a close. “It’s been a pleasure, Shawn.”
The blond took an abrupt step towards Bret’s personal space; their chests flushed together. Shawn tucked the pen behind the other’s ear. “The pleasure’s all mine,” he purred.
The tension left Bret, and his soul might as well follow along with it.
A stormy haze engulfed Bret’s consciousness, and it didn’t clear up until he was seated in his truck. The events that transpired minutes ago replayed in his mind like a broken cassette tape. He combed his fingers through his hair, and the pen balanced behind the shell of his ear fell on the passenger seat beside him. His eyes darted to the clipboard on his lap; the name ‘Shawn Michaels’ written on the signature line mocked him. He glanced at the mansion’s reflection on the crooked rearview mirror, and with the thoughts of Shawn plaguing him, he drove off.
Shawn didn’t cross Bret’s mind again until a week later. He was sat on the counter redoing the messy ribbons Owen hurriedly tied beforehand when his dad lumbered into the shop with a box of lavender colored craft paper in his arms. Bret raised a questioning brow at Owen, and their father placed the box on the counter. “Big order coming up,” the older Hart mused.
Bret could already feel the sleepless hours they will undoubtedly spend making flower arrangements. Owen groaned at the very thought. Their father cleared the counter from leaves and petals, letting them drop to the floor. “Mr. Layfield has a soiree in a week and since he loved our flowers the last time, he wanted us to arrange flowers for it.”
Owen groaned even louder and slouched in his chair. “Hate that guy,” the blonde grumbled under his breath, a sour taste still in his mouth from the last time their rich client last visited them. “That guy is paying for our food on the table, son,” Stu tutted.
As both Harts bickered back and forth, Bret gulped. Bret usually didn’t think of the people he delivered flowers to; their faces stay blurred for the short time they linger in his thoughts. But Shawn, with his not-so-subtle interest and that damned silk robe of his, was the exception.
“I bet his husband didn’t even like the bouquet!” Owen complained. Their father scowled but couldn’t disagree. The younger Hart wrapped his arm around Bret, “Right, Bret? The guy didn’t like it, did he?”
Bret ignored his brother, instead feigning nonchalance with a cross of his arms. He turned to Stu, “Say, do you know anything about Layfield’s husband?” Stu hummed, rummaging through the box he carried in, “The boy got married to Layfield the moment he graduated college. Layfield paraded the young man around like a prized diamond to his even richer friends. That’s about everything people know around here.” Owen butted himself into the conversation, “He doesn’t have good taste, then.” Stu shooed his younger son away with a roll of ribbons.
Bret fiddled with the ends of a flower stem, distracting himself. Stu gave him a knowing look, and Bret shifted his eyes to the lone pair of scissors on the floor, far more interesting than the squinted look of his father at that moment. “His husband is coming here later to discuss decorations. I won’t be here—” Owen clapped his hands, already aware of where their father was hinting at. “Oh, would you look at the time, I should really help Lizzy with the groceries. Okay, bye!” Owen bolted out of the store in a breath, the front door bell jingled when he set foot outside and left his family staring at his retreating form.
Stu clicked his tongue before he fished out his notepad from his back pocket. He handed it to Bret, “Just make sure to keep the customer happy.”
It wasn’t that Bret was avoiding Shawn, far from it. But when presented with the chance to flirt back with a man married to someone who could buy all of Bret’s possessions that he’s had or will ever have, he’d rather steer clear of it. But there was something about Shawn that Bret could not stop thinking about. From the beauty mark underneath his lashes to the way he smirked at Bret’s flustered state, Shawn was beautiful, and he knew it all too well. He seemed to know just the right buttons to press to make Bret second-guess his words. And the Hart was trapped between a rock and a hard place when Shawn finally visited the flower shop, an hour late from schedule.
Looking at Shawn made Bret unconsciously smooth out the wrinkles of his shirt and fix his hair any chance he got. Under Shawn’s gaze, Bret felt awfully small. When Shawn entered the store, he brought in an air of sweetness, the type that makes Bret’s mouth water. It was a nice change from the aroma of flowers, and for once, Bret didn’t have the urge to hide his nose behind his hand. Shawn dressed simply, but with the way he carried himself, it proved otherwise. He was fond of silk, Bret noticed, as his eyes trailed from his silk shirt to the jeans that hugged his waist.
“Hi, delivery boy.”
Bret blinked; his eyes shot back to Shawn’s face. “Welcome, Mr. Layfield,” Bret managed to utter. Shawn pouted, “I told you not to call me that.”
The blonde locked his gaze on the array of flowers behind Bret, his pout melting into a grin. “Those are pretty. I wish I got those bouquets instead.”
Bret turned to where Shawn was staring and laughed, “50 roses not good enough for you?” Shawn smiled, “Not even good to begin with.”
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Bond Girl Kim
Listen, I am sick and fucking tired of seeing all these hyper-competent Kim fics. I love them, and I will read every single one, but personally? We need some flavor. We need a little spice in our Kim characterization. So here’s my submission for the approval of The Midnight Society: Bond Girl Kim.
Kim works as a model and is absolutely fucking useless in the grand scheme of things.
He’s the only member of his family who chose not to follow tradition and become a super-spy.
Chay’s older brother joined the Secret Intelligence Initiative (or whatever their spy business is called) when he was a teenager and now Chay works in R&D.
Yes, that means Chay is Q.
And Tankhun is M.
Kinn is 007 and Porsche is 008. They are a badass team and have one of the highest success rates (also the most HR complaints for being seen in compromising positions).
Kim! In! Tiny! 1960′s! Men’s! Swimwear! Tiny pink striped shorts, that’s all I’m sayin’.
This man is swooning, fainting, and passing out EVERYWHERE. If there’s a flat surface he can safely collapse onto, there he fuckin’ goes.
Zero braincells. Zero sense of self-preservation. He has been kidnapped by 18 separate terrorist organizations and he’s not about to stop falling for their “I lost my kitten” trap.
Chay is mostly annoyed with how often his bf gets tied up by other people.
I just think we should tie Kim to more train tracks and let him cry until his mascara runs. That’s all.
@just-slightly-chaotic, @eggwars and @fuckyeah-itme have been enabling me so far, but I have lots of ideas and would love to talk more about this. :D
#anyway i love brainless kim#let him be hot and useless#pretty but stupid#arm candy#kimchay#kinnporsche#bond girl kim my beloved#bond girl kim#chay as q#secret agent kinn#secret agent porsche#what is my life anymore#i have so many wips and aus#anyway
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