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#there's so much going on in his brain already
satorurot · 1 day
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౨ৎ ⊹˚⋆ ❛ HARD LOVE,❜ - boys who look like soft doms but in reality love it rough.
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contains: smut, fem!reader, hard dom, rough sex, very much implied spanking, daddy usage on himself
notes: my monthly post bc school is like kicking my ass esp with grad coming up... also sry to mentions i ignored lolol i've been going thru it
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he'll go easy, it's our first time. you think to yourself. but little did you know he'd be fucking your brains out that night.
"not too- fast!" you squealed into the soft pillow of his bed, clutching onto the sheets for mercy as you found yourself getting fucked face down and ass up on your fourth date.
a breathy laugh echoed through the room along with the sound of repeated skin slapping. his thumb caressing the red hand prints embedded on your soft cheeks, admiring what he had done.
pleasure and pain surged through your body. you knew he was big, but not this big. his cock stretched your pussy out past its limits at this point. like a shoe 3 sizes too small, you'd wriggle, and wriggling, shove your foot in basically... you get the idea.
his length continued to hit your cervix every time he plunged your ass into his pelvis, soliloquies came out of your mouth without question. his neighbors are surely going to complain. he'd thrust into you quick and hard you felt so overstimulated to the point you could barely fathom what was happening.
he stayed silent the whole time, only making groans and huffs from time to time, until he muttered under his breath.
"sweet girl, s' fucking good for daddy."
he fisted your hair, forcing you to look back at the needy expression he had on his face. so vulnerable yet stern. your mouth was ajar as you moaned out meaningless words to him, staring into his shrouded eyes.
you mewled, tightened around his cock, trying to milk out more of that sweet feeling he gave you with every push into your cunt. his dick was lathered in your juices as it went in and out so smoothly. it pressed so harshly against your velvety walls that you could just feel his big vein.
"i- 'm about to-" was all you managed to say. your back arched downward as you scrunched up, satisfaction vibrating everywhere, even your hands. his breath became heavier as he too was approaching.
nothing could replicate the pure euphoria you felt right then.
"oh please, cumming- hard-" you felt his liquid seep into your cunt as you wrung each other dry of any cum that was left, the hot and sticky goodness dripped onto the bedding.
if his dick was this good every time you might as well just marry him already.
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donatellawritings · 2 days
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I jus wanna shut my baby brain off and let big bad daddy rafey take care of me :(
oh this is sooo muñeca & sugar daddy!rafe coded …
ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐
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you were entirely too emotional and high-strung — but who could blame you? with your skyrocketing hormones and mere hours that stood between your sweet papi rafe going back home to kildare, while you remained in culebra was becoming way too much for you to handle. and rafe couldn’t find it in himself to reprimand you, you’d been doing so well when it came to putting your big girl panties on and fighting back the impending waterworks that welled at your waterline, whenever it came time for rafe to go back home — you practiced!
but, unfortunately you’d lost every ounce of your resolve when your doe eyes fell on the two suitcases that sat at the edge of rafe’s bed.
sat in the middle of the plush firmness of the california king bed, your small body hiccuping with incessant cries, you curled your knees into your chest, “on-one — more — day,” you squeaked out, your jumbled words cut into choppy huffs of air as rafe pursed his lips into a tight line.
stood firmly beside the bed with his hands planted on his waist, rafe pinched the bridge of his nose with a knowing sigh, “c’mon, kid — y’been through this many times already, yeah?” met with a sharp cry from you, rafe is quick to switch into complete father-figure mode, letting out a piercing whistle, “hey! cut it out, y’gonna knock y’self out, cryin’ like that,” he scolds, his voice firm as you raise your puffy-tear stained face from your knees with a sniffle.
“quédate conmigo, please papi,” you squeak out, stretching both of your arms out in a reach towards rafe, your bottom lip all wobbly.
taking a seat at the edge of the bed, rafe opens an arm, beckoning you into his lap with a flick of his two signet-ringed fingers as you immediately and obediently crawl into his lap with a whimper, “a’ight, no more cryin’ — don’t need y’passin out on me before i go, hm?” rafe soothes, bringing his hand seamlessly clasp around the back of your neck.
nodding the side of your cherub cheek against rafe’s collarbone, you let out a breath of relief, “when d-do you come back,” you question softly, your doe eyes all sore and heavy from your earlier sobs as you quickly knuckle away the wetness at the tip of your nose.
“no … do not start that, you hear me?” rafe scolds, his free hand lightly tapping the side of your soft thigh, earning a frustrated mewl from you. squeezing your neck, rafe urges a verbal answer from you.
much to rafe’s very dismay, his corrective tone only set you off even further — you didn’t want your papi to be mad at you before he left. so, your bambi eyes were quick to well with warm tears, a warning sniffle itching at your nose as you shook your head, before heaving into rafe’s neck.
“fuck — okay, princess. hey, need y’to look at your papi now, yeah? can y’look at me — can’t look at me if y’cryin, pretty girl,” rafe coos, gently pulling your leg to straddle his hips as he pushes your face up to meet his, with a slight nudge of his shoulder. met with red and glassy eyes and flushed cheeks, rafe brings both of his hands to cradle each side of your face.
“a’ight, need y’to a good girl while m’gone, okay? y’gonna be a good girl for daddy?” rafe questions, slightly mushing your cheeks together as you huff out a wobbly breath, before licking over your swollen lips.
softly nodding in rafe’s grasp, you sniffle, “yes.”
allowing a satisfied smirk to play on his lips, rafe pulls your face down, leaning forehead against his, “good. now, i need y’to go to sleep, kid. i won’t be here when you wake up, but —”
fat tears are quick to brim your lower lash line as you whine in rafe’s grasp, “no—”
shushing you with a corrective tut, rafe pecks your lips in a silencing kiss, “shh … i always come back for you, don’t i? always call you, send you pretty presents — got you that laptop s’you can see me when y’get sad, yeah?”
with an appreciative nod, your lips brush against rafe — your papi always kept his promises, “g-going to mi-miss you,” you shudder, your voice all cracked and uneven as you stare directly into rafe’s bright baby blues, silently wishing you’d be able to make him stay just one more night.
“i know, kid,” rafe sighs, gently easing the both of you to fall back on the bed, one arm secured around your waist as he slides a free hand to the back of your head, lightly scratching at your scalp, “promise, m’gonna come back and take good care of you, yeah? s’my job to make sure m’little girl is happy,” he coos, leaving you to nod against his neck as you slowly, but surely begin to doze off.
whispering sweet nothing into your sleepy ear, rafe remains awake, until he’s one hundred percent sure that your asleep, your parted lips blowing warm air against his neck. once your breathing calmed into a steady rhythm, rafe was careful about maneuvering your drowsy body, carefully removing the small hand that rested on his face and placing it on his chest.
it was never easy for rafe to leave his girl in an island that was so far from him. he liked being in control and in the know of all moving parts in your day to day, so leaving you to fend for yourself — despite being waited in hand and foot by the hired help of the villa — rafe fought the urge to fly you to kildare altogether. you were still so wet behind the ears, so fragile and sentimental, such a transition would be way too much for your little heart to handle.
placing the pillow that sat under his head to rest in the tight hold of your arms, rafe reaches for the powder pink iphone that sits on the nightstand, placing it beside the pillow, ready for your use, the moment you woke up.
you just hoped that your papi rafe would be proud that you were awake the entire time and didn’t cry … because you practiced!
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cordeliawhohung · 1 day
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Strangers
john price x fem!reader | masterlist | ao3
John Price remembers every life he's ever lived. When death takes him in one universe, he's born into the next with all his memories and past experiences still intact. Throughout the lives he's lived, you're the only thing that ever seems to quell the ache in his chest, and he spends every life searching for your comfort. Except, in this life, he's too late
cw: soulmate!au, murder, suicide, feticide, kidnapping, drugging, possessive john price, non-con elements, one shot, dead dove: do not eat!!!
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In every life you’ve ever lived, John Price finds you. 
He’s drawn to you like an animal is drawn to its cage. The glint of the metal bars look like stars if he squints hard enough, and the smell of blood and iron is the fairest perfume in the world. There is no life that he wishes to live without you in it. Tucked close to his chest in bed at night. Curled up underneath his thumb. Where you go, he follows you, hidden in the shadows until he’s ready to reveal himself as the soulmate who’s been tracking you across eons worth of lives. 
It’s a simple curse. One that’s haunted him since he first poofed into existence so long ago he can’t recall how much time has passed. Forever bound to remember every life he’s ever lived while everyone else debates the possibility of a god or heaven, forgetting their reincarnated selves in other universes. It’s a particularly lonely ailment. He had been locked in chains in one life for attempting to convince the world that there was life after death, not through a god, but through sheer human will. Had to sever the artery in his tongue with his teeth and drink down his blood to escape a life of imprisonment, and just like he knew he would, he woke up in his next life a free man. 
These days, he spends his lives on something more worthwhile: you. Just as he does, you look the same in every universe with a smile he knows by touch alone and a laugh that is the only melody that can soothe the immortal ache in his chest. He’s fried his brain with drugs and killed his liver with drink, forever carrying the burden of memory, and yet throughout his travels, you remain the only thing capable of soothing that terrible ache that haunts him. If death has already taken you in one life, he kills himself and moves onto the next, a wild man forever on the hunt for you. 
The only other thing that stays consistent throughout his many lives besides the desire to be yours, is the taste of fresh tea. He prefers Yorkshire tea, but the Earl Grey they substitute at the shop is fine enough. Quiet muttering fills the air around him as he sits in the corner of the shop, alone with his thoughts. He takes a sip of the tea, allowing the hint of lavender to wash over his tongue as if cleansing him. It’s the only thing that tastes and smells like home. Besides you, of course; but he hasn’t found you yet, and it’s getting late. 
Usually, he’s lucky enough to find you by the time both of you are in your twenties. It’s easy to win you over at that age. He holds a maturity well beyond his years, and you hold a wide-eyed innocence that has you in his grasp before you even realize it. But he’s in his thirties, and that has him anxious. Too much time has passed — a decade more than usual — which leaves him with a variety of possibilities. Ones he doesn’t like entertaining. 
No matter. He’s learned to be somewhat patient over the countless lifetimes spent searching for you, because it always pays off in the end. All the marriages, the children you have, the love you make. John Price is the luckiest man in the world, being able to replay his favorite memories with you for all eternity. He could never tire of you, would never dream of such a terror. 
So when the bell attached to the shop door rings with the entrance of another customer, it quickly turns to music to his ears when he sees you. Afternoon sunlight illuminates the world behind you, blinding him with the beauty you carry across universes and worlds. Your familiar eyes scan the area briefly, hardly paying him any mind before you approach the counter with a grace and poise that has his heart thudding in his throat. He can never get used to the first time. The first time his eyes land on you, he hears your voice, or skin touches yours; it’s the only thing that can tear him apart as well as you do. 
He tries not to stare at your ass when you order your drink. It’s always been his favorite physical feature of yours. There’s something different about this version of you, yet still familiar. Nothing is ever entirely unknown to him, not when it concerns you, but you’re glowing more than usual. It’s captivating in a way that makes him feel like a dog, looking at a woman in such a perverse way, but he knows you like it when he stares. You always have in every other life.
When the barista hands you a to-go cup, John knows he doesn’t have long before you slip away. Such a sharp girl, quick on her feet. Always buzzing around, never staying in one place for too long, as if the imprint of your soul enjoyed the chase of him following after you. It’s a game he enjoys very much; one he doesn’t mind entertaining at all. 
John rises from his seat, cup still half full, where he slips to the door just as you turn around to leave. His pace is leisurely, certainly in no rush as his hands reach out for the exit, only for him to pause. How silly of him to have left his drink behind, the only reason he even came to that shop in the first place. When he turns around, it’s quick and violent, and catches you so off guard you run right into him. 
Piping hot tea splashes around in your to-go cup, and if it wasn’t for John’s quick reflexes and a firm grip on your wrist, you would’ve gotten yourself hurt. Your gasp is sweet and melodic on his ears, and he nearly melts under your gaze as your wide eyes stare at him. Your surprise is cute. As if you couldn’t remember meeting him in countless different universes like this. 
“Terribly sorry, darling,” he says as if surprised. His grip loosens on your wrist just as his other hand comes up to rest on your waist. It’s quick, he knows; but in some way, you’re already used to it. “You alright?” 
It takes you a moment to catch your breath, and once you do, John feels you slip out of his grasp as you take a step back. Both of your hands come up to hold the cup, afraid of dropping it, and you give him a polite smile and nod. 
“Yes, thank you, I… good save,” is all you can manage as you chuckle and gesture to your drink. 
John’s hands mourn the absence of your warmth, yet he allows them to politely fall back against his side. His lips yearn to be on yours. For him, this isn’t a first time greeting, but a long awaited reunion. Still, he calms his nerves and hardens them to steel as he chuckles with you. 
“Would’ve hated for you to have gotten hurt,” he comments as his eyes glance down at your legs. The brief thought of that searing hot liquid broiling the supple skin of your thighs invades his mind before he can push it away. “You’re sure you’re alright?” 
Whatever your response is, he can’t hear it. The dazzling bling of your betrayal drowns out the sound of your voice and everything around him. It’s beautiful; your ring. Its gemstone glints in the sunlight streaming through the windows as if attempting to blind him. No, not blind him. Something worse. It screams at him the very thing he had feared for the last few years; he was too late. Bound to another man in matrimony, a silly mistake you had made before ever seeing the light. 
The aftertaste of tea suddenly tastes putrid on his tongue. His sweet mate, too impatient to wait for him in that lifetime. You’d fucked other men in other lives, and though it had always made his stomach turn, John could understand. But marriage? 
His teeth threaten to shatter under the pressure of his clenching jaw. 
When the sound comes back to him, his eyes comprehend the expression on your face. Discomfort — near disdain. In this universe, John Price is not your lover. He is a man, and only that. One who just so happens to be barring you from the exit. 
He remembers himself, and smiles at you kindly as he quickly steps to the side, muttering an apology with a jaw that’s much too stiff. And still, he reaches behind him to hold the door open for you, and despite your apprehension you thank him quietly and say goodbye before you vanish into the streets. Your smell lingers in the air next to him for only a moment before it dissipates and drowns in the aroma of herbs and teas. His face goes cold as he glares at the corner where his now cold tea sits. 
This was the first life he ever lived where you married a man that wasn’t him. Something broke. Shattered in his chest where the shards cut him apart from the inside out. When he breathes in, he can smell the blood pooling inside of him and it wakes him up to the terrible realization that — for once in his many, many lifetimes — he’s late. He’s late, and he doesn’t know what to do. 
As the sweet smell of tea fades and is replaced by the putrid aroma of London, John tells himself to let it go. So what he wasted thirty plus years just for your heart to already be stolen away from him? There’s a millennia behind him, and a millennia ahead of him. When one life doesn’t go right for him, there’s always the next. Yet as pavement turns to brick and The Thames sprawls out in front of him beyond metal bars, he finds himself hesitating. The idea of letting go can’t quite sink its tendrils into his mind, and his knuckles grow white as he grips the barrier in front of him. 
Bitter wind bites at his face as he looks at the water below him. Hesitation. He doesn’t know why it paralyzes him. There’s never been any need or use for second guesses, because he’s always known what’s waiting for him on the other side. All he needs to do is lift his leg, hoist himself up, and then let gravity do the rest. He’s done it before, in some other life. He’s felt his body hit the frigid water with needle-like pain blossoming across his skin just before it swallows him whole. It’s not an easy way to die, but it’s the only thing violent enough that has the capability of smothering the bitterness growing in his heart. 
The answer to his confusion comes as a whisper on the back of his neck, where it tingles until it reaches the base of his spine and flutters throughout every cell of his body. Principle. It’s the principle of it all. In every single life, you’ve been his lover, his wife, the mother of his children, and if you are not, then you are dead. Rotten. Decaying in some grave by the time he finally finds you. You’re not just his desire, the love of his life, his reason for being; you are his right. 
How long can someone love a soul before it becomes theirs? Before it’s ripped out of their lover and tucked safely away into a cage? 
John chuckles as his hand slips from the railing, and he slides them into his pockets as if he had been enjoying the view of grey water and even more grey skies this entire time. Kill himself? No; you’ve been his this entire time. You just don’t know it yet. 
He’s only ever done this a few times before; kidnap someone. In a few of his past lives, he’s been a soldier. A stone-hardened man who’s stolen families as bartering tools to make terrorists talk when their mouths were otherwise sealed shut. Killing is a good way for him to let out the anger that builds in a man’s soul after so long, and though he prefers to keep it to people who deserve it, his fingers can’t help but twitch as he watches your husband drop you off at the yoga studio. 
Doesn’t he — your husband — deserve it? Death? Shouldn’t he pay the ultimate price for stealing you away from your true lover? The man who’s looked after you for eons? John wants to do it. Kill him. Smell the sanguine aroma that mixes with the harsh gunpowder that expels after a bullet is shot. He wants to, and he could do it, but murder muddles things up more than he would like, and though he’s good at covering his trail, he’d rather steal you away without incident. He’s been carefully plotting this ever since he saw you in that tea shop all those days ago; he can’t ruin it. 
A smile pulls at his lips as he thinks about the look on your husband's face, when his pretty little pretend wife doesn’t return home. When he realizes how he’s failed you.
John’s hands tap at the steering wheel as he waits, patient as ever, for your session to end. Silly of you to go to a night class, really. Even sillier of your husband to allow such a terrible thing. If anything, it's greater proof that this new man in this new life isn’t good for you. It could have been anyone sitting in that car park, waiting for you to leave. Waiting to take you home.
Good thing it’s only him. 
John exits the car just before eight. Cool air does its best to calm the electricity sizzling in his veins, but ultimately it’s his own mind that stills his nerves. Everything is planned out in his mind with moves expertly rehearsed in a past now forgotten, yet still ingrained in his memory; he knows he’ll get exactly what he wants. You. It’s all he craves. All he ever does. 
You exit the studio with a laugh and a wave goodbye to the other women in your yoga class. That pathetic husband of yours is late, which only proves to be good fortune for John as he slips by your side. His feet are dangerously silent on the pavement and his arm is just as warm as ever as he wraps it around your waist, blade in hand. Even through the fabric of your shirt its point is noticeably sharp, and your feet stumble as he presses it against you in warning. 
“Not a word, darling,” he whispers, too saccharine to be a stranger. 
You listen, just like he knew you would, and he steers you away from the pavement and into the car park. It’s difficult for him not to chuckle as he recalls you in another life. How you once batted your pretty lashes at him, all but begging him to use a knife in bed with you. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to feel the cold sting of it against your skin. He wonders if some part of you feels that way in this life. 
Once you reach the car, he slips the zip ties over your wrists in a single fluid motion before opening the door for you. Any onlookers would just think he’s being a gentleman helping you into the car like that, but there’s a method to his madness. As soon as you’re seated into the passengers side, your eyes meet his and they widen with terrified recognition. Not quite the look he hoped for from you, but your expression quickly melts away the moment a needle pierces through your pants and into your thigh. All that’s left to do is buckle you in and drive off. 
He likes to pretend he’s carrying you to your honeymoon room as he curls you up into his arms. A sweet bride, passed out against his chest as he carries you to bed, safe in the confines of the cage he’s spent that entire lifetime preparing for you. You don’t stir when he places you in bed, but he lays down next to you as if both of you are resting. He lays in front of you so he can see your face while it’s peaceful; not while it’s twisted with confusion and disgust like it was in the tea shop a few days ago. No, he likes you much better like this. Quiet and pliant. 
The tips of his fingers trace the features of your face, and it’s a dance he’s grown to have well memorized. They brush your lips and the tip of your nose before dipping underneath your jaw where they continue to wander. It doesn’t feel wrong, even though he knows you’d beg to differ. He’s done this before, in a life you don’t remember. Touch you like this. Feeling the dip between your breasts and the skin of your stomach. He pats your hands, still bound together with a zip tie — he tells himself he’ll remove them once you start behaving — before caressing your thighs. He wants to slip upwards, to brush his thumb against your clit just like how he knows you like it, but he refrains. He’ll wait until you wake up to do that. Your gasps are always sweeter when you’re aware. 
The sweet bliss of numb eternity melts away as the drugs begin to wear off, and when your eyes flutter open you’re met with the face of a stranger. Truly, he’s not a stranger at all. Or, at least that’s what John would have you believe with the knowing smile he gives you. Your bound hands move up and press against his chest, desperately attempting to earn some space between the two of you. This only makes him laugh, and his hand rests on top of yours. 
“Easy, darling,” he soothes.
An incoherent response stumbles out from your lips just as fearful tears swell in your eyes. His hand pants yours against his chest before he frowns. The gemstone on your wedding ring stands out like a sore thumb against his palm, and it serves as a stark reminder as to why he had to do all this in the first place. You don’t — or can’t — fight against him as he slips the ring off your finger and places it on the nightstand next to him. He’ll dispose of it properly another time, but for now he just can’t stand to see that proof of ownership on you. 
“Please.” It’s the first word you’re able to slur out, and John hangs onto the syllable like it’s dessert. “W-Whatever you want… please… my husband, h-he’ll give it to you just… let me go, please.” 
Husband. He hates that word on your lips when it’s not in reference to him. 
“I’ve already gotten what I want, love,” he whispers. 
Your eyes wrench shut and tears fall free at the realization that there’s nothing you can do to get away from this crazed man. He shushes you as he holds your face in his hands and presses his lips against your forehead. It’s not enjoyable, the way you recoil from him, but giving you the same love he’s given you in every other life feels right. It feels more wrong to withhold it from you. 
Because this is his right, isn’t it? Of course it is, and in some sort of way, you seem to know this too. Your hands no longer press against his chest in disdain, and it’s all too easy to prop himself up on his elbow and press his lips against yours. The pressure is firm, as if he’s holding himself back from taking more from you. He groans at the taste of salt on your lips, and nearly chuckles at the way you tremble. It’s a one-sided embrace that you refuse to return, but he tells himself you’ll learn otherwise soon enough. 
When John pulls away, your eyes refuse to focus on him as the shame eats you from the inside out. Your entire body is limp, bound hands resting against your stomach as he sits up. Deciding you’ve been behaving well enough, he reaches for the knife on the nightstand and he turns back to you, ready to cut the ties from your wrists. 
The very moment the glint of the knife catches your eye is the moment you begin to squirm. Legs thrash and mess up the sheets as you scramble away from him until your head and back is pressed against the headboard. Your chest heaves violently as your terror overtakes you, and John pauses as you retreat. He’s never seen you look at him like that; not in any life he’s ever lived.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he promises. 
“Please don’t,” you beg, his assurance falling on deaf ears. Your pleas turn into mindless stuttering for a moment before something visibly breaks in you, forcing you to share a secret that feels like sealing your death: “Please, you can’t just- I- I’m pregnant! Please!” 
Everything stops. The world. His heart. It all falls quiet except for the sound of your hyperventilating which is almost as deafening as the ringing in his ears. Pregnant. Anything kind in John’s eyes dies quietly as he clenches the knife in his hand. 
Pregnant. Not with his child. It must be a lie — it has to be a lie. You don’t look pregnant. There is no swelling of your stomach. Yet your hands lie on your lower abdomen as if you’re cradling something. Cradling someone. You have never been good at lying in any of your lives, and the candor sheen in your eyes tells him you’re not good at lying in this one, either. 
John tells himself he only wants to embrace you. To mourn the life the two of you could have had if you only behaved. He doesn’t register why you’re screaming until the blood covers his hands, and then you fall quiet. His knife sinks into your stomach like it’s butter, and it pulls free from you even easier. You stare up at him, confused. As if you can’t comprehend why he would do this to you.
Ichor flows free from you like a river, and all you can do is gasp and paw at your wound. Your legs flail as John pulls you against his chest, chin resting on top of your head as if this is something he can soothe away with a hug. It’s not. He can’t soothe away your betrayal. Can’t come to terms with the fact you carry another man’s child when you should be carrying his. 
“I know,” he shushes with a strained voice. “I know. It’ll be over soon.” 
Your death is not kind, and he mourns every minute you bleed in his arms until you eventually still. It’s only when your blood goes cold that he allows himself to cry. Angry, hot tears that sear his skin as they soak into your hair. Damn this ruined life. Damn the years he wasted trying to find you only for you to be soiled by the time you were in his grasp. He hates the gore that stains your being, but he assures himself it was necessary. 
In every life, you belong to him. In the lives that you don’t, you’re already dead. 
John carefully places your body back on the mattress where he takes in the sight of you. There’s no more glow to your skin, not like there was while you were alive. But you’re dead, and he knows the life inside of you is dead, too. He tries to take comfort in that fact before angling the knife towards himself. 
Killing himself is easier than killing you, as driving the knife into his throat is a well practiced motion. It’s something he’s done before, and he’s so used to it he doesn’t even groan at the sting as the blade slices his artery. Darkness is quick to cloud his vision as the blood loss overwhelms him, and he sputters and stares down at your cold body below. There is little comfort he feels when his blood meets yours on the stained sheets of the bed he wished to love you on. The mixing of blood is the only bond the two of you will ever have in that life. 
He coughs as he falls forward. Soon, he has no use for any sort of comfort at all. 
There is no blood in your next life. No iron taste in your mouth, or rotten flesh haunting your nose. No, there is only ink, paper, and well loved books. 
You love your job. Books are your livelihood; the tool you use to escape reality on rainy days, so it only makes sense that in this life you work as a librarian. The building is dated with poorly insulated windows, and a bell that chimes as another patron enters, but that’s what makes it charming. Millions of words have been consumed in that library, and they linger in a way that never leaves you feeling alone. 
Several books sit tucked safely in your arms as you wander aisles, on the hunt to return them home. Every shelf is well memorized. You could find any book in that building blind folded, and you hum to yourself as you go to return Walt Whitman’s Song of Myself to its rightful home on the top shelf of the WXYZ aisle. 
Your feet are nimble as you climb the step stool to reach the shelf. It nearly reaches the ceiling, which is no small feat for a building of that size. Your arm stretches over your head and you breathe in the scent of stale paper and well loved books. Just as your fingers slide the item into place, the stool below you jerks, and your stomach drops as you fall to the side. 
The books in your arms tumble onto the ground, but you’re saved from that same fate as a pair of arms swoop around you. You squeak as your hands grip the shirt of your savior, and you look up with wild eyes at the man. John Price is younger in this life when he finds you. In his twenties this go around. His face is clean shaven, but his eyes still hold the wisdom of forgotten ages and dead worlds. 
“Terribly sorry, darling,” he apologizes. His grip on you loosens, but he doesn’t quite cut you free just yet. “You alright?” 
“Yes, thank you, I… good save,” is all you can manage through a breathless chuckle. 
There’s an innocence in your eyes that has John smiling at you. His hands are kinder in this life. The angry claws that ended your previous life don’t exist anymore. They do not wield a knife in anger; they only hold you with unbridled adoration. It’s the way things are supposed to be, with you in his arms and looking up at him with that innocent gaze, just the way he likes you. For a moment, John worries that you somehow recognize him when you tilt your head, yet as you bashfully return his smile, he takes comfort in knowing that you don’t remember anything. 
You don’t remember anything at all. 
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crushmeeren · 21 hours
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Quickies with the MHA Boys!
Everyone involved in this work of fiction is 18+/aged up — if that bothers you block me or scroll on.
Bakugou, Kirishima, Todoroki
How the MHA Boys Eat You Out Link
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Bakugou Katsuki
Katsuki doesn’t mind quickies per se. He just has to be in the right mood for it. He’d much rather take his sweet time. Not wanting to rush, being able to relax afterwards — otherwise he’d rather just not have sex at all.
But there are times when he’s frustrated. When your schedules haven’t lined up, when you haven’t had sex in weeks — he gets pent up.
Katsuki’s the kind of guy who will lounge on your bed in just his tight black boxer briefs. Arms folded behind his head as he lazily waits for you to get out of the shower.
He knows it gives you a view that you’re unable to resist of his unreasonably slim waist and toned arms — as the position allows his biceps to flex involuntarily.
And of course, he’s completely aware that you have to leave for work in less than 20 minutes. He just doesn’t give a single shit.
He’s been dreaming about your warm pussy sucking in his cock in all night and there’s not a chance in hell he’s letting you go until he fucks you silly.
Tilting his head, he leers at your naked body as you drop your towel onto the bed. He urges you in a low, rasping voice to “come here baby,” sporting a wolfish grin.
You already know what he wants. It makes your stomach burn pleasantly with arousal.
“Five minutes Katsuki, I’m serious.” You shoot him a pointed glare. He scoffs, rolling his eyes.
“As if I won’t have you cumming in less than two minutes.” The grin he levels you with is sharp around the edges.
Although, the man’s right to be confident.
Katsuki will push you onto the bed, cock already stiff and thick when he wiggles between your legs, yanking his briefs down to mid thigh.
You’re turned on enough that he slides in with relative ease, even if it burns a little, because let’s be real — he’s so hot you would take him any time, any place.
Katsuki will tug one of your legs up, hooking it over his shoulder. He’ll bend you in half and circle his fingers around your throat, applying pressure that’s just right.
With precision, he wholly makes this quickie worth it. Katsuki has your toes curling, cheeks flushed. Choking on your own moans as you cum.
He does exceptionally well with the time limit, pulling out and cumming all over your belly with a groan that leaks out between gritted teeth.
Almost exactly five minutes on the dot.
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Kirishima Eijirou
Eijirou has the spirit of a happy, care free, lovesick golden retriever. So naturally, he loves physical touch.
He’s addicted to constantly being in your space. Hugging you, holding your hand, pulling you to sit on his lap, kissing you.
And if we’re being honest, whenever he gets the chance, he’ll be inside you too. Stretching you out. Making you feel so good it melts your brain — if only because it makes him feel twice the amount of pleasure to you see come undone.
Needless to say, Eijirou enjoys quickies a fuck ton. He also is the sort of guy who gets literal heart eyes whenever you initiate one with him.
He’ll be relaxing on the couch, lost in some sort of video game when you snatch the controller out of his hands and place it out of his reach.
Eijirou sputters, glancing up at you in surprise. His startled expression turns to one of knowing when you straddle his lap. Your sundress bunching up and exposing the soft skin of your inner thighs in the process.
“I’ve got 10 minutes until I leave for my appointment. Wanna have sex Ei?” You ask teasingly, a coy smile playing on your lips. You wrap your arms around his neck, gently trailing your fingers up the nape of his neck.
You swear if Eijirou had a tail it would be wagging. He moans low in his throat. Your light touch and filthy words are all it takes to get him hard, stiff cock pressing eagerly into your thigh.
“How could I ever say no to you gorgeous?” He beams at you with his sharp teeth, resting his hands your hips. You snicker, raising up a little so he can slid his shorts down enough to free himself — just under his balls.
He sneaks your panties to the side, rubbing tight circles into your clit with his thumb. Your teeth sink into your lower lip, trying to hold in a whine.
He has mercy on you, gripping his shaft and parting your pussy with his cock until his head catches. You ease yourself down onto him until you’re fully seated in his lap.
You both simultaneously breathe out a sigh of relief.
After that, he lets you ride him until you’re sweaty and satiated. He praises you sweetly, holding your waist with a tight grip and helping you bounce.
“That’s it baby, take what you need. I’m right here, I’ve got you. Love it when you cum for me,” he coos, voice tender and adoring.
It’s effortless to cum like that, face buried in his shoulder while you rock back and forth in his lap. Letting him hug you tightly to his chest.
Once you come back down to earth, you check for the time, noticing you’ve only got two minutes left.
You taunt Eijirou with the time limit, telling him it’s his turn to cum before he has to take care of himself.
He chases his own pleasure desperately. Kissing you to keep himself from biting marks into your neck.
You’re only running a couple minutes late when you go, leaving Eijirou a sticky, gooey mess on the couch.
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Todoroki Shouto
Shouto, he’s, well — a mix of the two really. He enjoys taking his time, but he also cannot keep himself out of your bubble.
One of Shouto’s absolute favorite past times is cuddling with you.
The coziness of your body, the way you fit like a missing puzzle piece into his chest. The tender kisses he can trail across your neck and the ones you give him in return.
That’s why Shouto takes immense pleasure in those honey like, sweet and warm, limbs riddled with sleep morning quickies.
He can’t resist the temptation.
You’ll hear Shouto’s piercing alarm go off in the morning, jostling you from your dreams. The sheets rustle as Shouto maneuvers to turn off his alarm.
Your lids are droopy, and your limbs lag by a couple seconds when you turn over to cling to him.
You sprawl out half way on top of his chest and you slip your arms around his neck, nuzzling his shoulder.
“Sho,” you mumble in his ear, voice rasp and faint. He snakes an arm around your waist, tugging you closer.
“Mm?” The noise he makes rumbles in his chest
“I want you before you go, please,” you plead softly, kissing along his jawline. He squeezes you tighter briefly, responding without a trace of hesitation.
“Turn over baby, I’ll have to make it quick.”
So, you shift around until you’re on your side. Back facing Shouto as he scoots in close, wiggling down until his forehead rests at the back of your neck.
He shoves the large T-shirt you’re wearing up to your ribs. Smoothing his hand over your bare ass and squeezing until your breath hitches in your throat. Shouto smacks your ass playfully.
Automatically you lift your thigh and Shouto grips underneath it to keep it in that position, shifting his legs until he’s got the right angle.
The silky, warm skin of his full cock slides along your pussy and you jolt. He must’ve got rid of his briefs at some point.
Shouto shift his hips, pressing the head of his cock to your pussy, rocking his hips unhurriedly until he’s sliding in and out completely with each thrust.
You’re already crying out his name, gripping the sheets.
“Is this what you needed Angel?” Shouto pants hotly against your neck. “Your pussy feels so good,” he moans, tone pushing into a whine.
You can’t speak, still halfway asleep as Shouto takes you with slow and deliberate thrusts.
He repeatedly presses into your sweet spot as your climax builds gradually. It’s like a faucet sluggishly dripping warm water into a cup until it fills to the brim and overflows through your veins.
It doesn’t take long for Shouto to cum after your pussy clenches around him like a vice.
He presses in until his balls are flush against your skin. Biting into the back of your shoulder blade with a high pitched moan. That will definitely leave a mark.
“I love you,” Shouto murmurs, planting a kiss to your cheek after he helps you get clean enough to fall back asleep.
You’re out like a light before you hear the door shut, hoping Shouto makes it to the agency on time.
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wheeboo · 2 days
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all yours | yoon jeonghan
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SYNOPSIS. in which you get a bit too drunk on your special day. PAIRING. yoon jeonghan x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, established relationship WARNINGS. mentions of drinking alcohol and throwing up, reader has long enough hair to be pulled back, cursing, terms of endearment WORD COUNT. 1.4k
requested from anon: Hi hope all is well, just wanted to say Congrats on the milestone! You deserve it! And if it’s okay I would like to request #29 and #52 from prompt list 1 with Jeonghan thank you in advance if you do it. Congrats again to 2k you honestly deserve it :) - #29: "I do love you, you know. Even if I'm shit at showing it." - #52: "Shut up, you love me. Why else would you be here, taking care of me while I hurl into a toilet?"
notes: thank u sm anon 😭🫶 ur so so sweet ily AAAA sending consensual smooches ur way 😚😚 also genuinely did not know what to title this lmfao
join the 2k celebration!
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Okay, maybe you've had a bit too much to drink tonight.
It's your birthday anyway, so surely you have the right to go a little bit overboard on your special day... right?
"Ugh, I feel like shit," You mumble groggily, your body drifting and hitting the bathtub right next to you with a thud as the sounds of the toilet flushing bounce off the walls of the bathroom.
Jeonghan just crosses his arms together, leaning against the doorway with a sly smirk to his face. His eyes peer over your flushed face, slightly tousled hair and overall cute, disheveled appearance. You huff a breath as your gaze meets his, and a small, almost dreamy smile of your own forms on your face despite knowing how absurd you look right now.
"How do I look?" You ask, drawing your words out drunkenly.
"Honestly?" Jeonghan starts, and you lift a brow in anticipation. "You look ravishingly awful."
The words that leave his mouth has your face twisting in confusion, your brain hardly processing whatever the hell he just said (you'll take it as a compliment nonetheless, thanks to your cloudy mind).
However, Jeonghan just chuckles, fully stepping his way into the bathroom and towards where you are plopped down on the tile floor. He carefully sits himself down on the rim of the bathtub, expression softening right away with concern as he reaches out to gently brush a stray strand of hair from your face, feeling the warmth on your face from the alcohol to his fingers.
You lean into his touch instinctively, closing your eyes for a few seconds. "My body is going to hate me in the morning."
Jeonghan retracts his hand slightly, but not before his fingertips lingers your cheek, sending a jolt through your already-buzzing body and causing your eyes to flutter open. You can feel the heat creeping back up your neck, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze.
"Hmm, not if I take care of you real well, yeah?" he muses teasingly, and you could only groan in response, feeling the alcohol earlier make your head spin once more. But a tiny, sober part of you registers the warmth in his gaze.
That is, until you can start to feel something bubble up your throat, and before you can react, your stomach lurches, and you're scrambling for the toilet just in time to expel the contents of your stomach. You heave and retch, feeling utterly miserable as Jeonghan helps by pulling back your hair and rubbing your back soothingly.
As the wave of nausea passes, your hand releases its hold on the cold porcelain of the toilet seat. You lean back once more, nearly toppling over before Jeonghan's hands catch you by the shoulders, helping to straighten up your posture. You let out a sluggish sigh.
"Well, maybe you're not wrong about your body hating you," he says jokingly, then squeezes your shoulders right after as if reassure you. "I would not want to be the receiving end of all... that."
You roll your eyes in playful annoyance and yank his grip off you, his laughter ringing in your ears. "I... Shut up, you love me. Why else would you be here, taking care of me while I hurl into a toilet?"
A feigned gasp leaves Jeonghan as he dramatically clutches his chest. But the inebriated glare you throw his way doesn't seem to faze him in the slightest. You catch the way his face quickly dissolves into his horribly distinguishable shit-eating grin.
"Ah, you figured out my secret, my dearest," he responds with an exaggerated flair, cupping your face gently with his hand. "You getting wasted made you more perceptive than I thought."
You swat at him weakly, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "You're impossible."
"Only for you." He cheesily presses a kiss to the top of your head. "How are you feeling? Can you stand up?"
"Mmmh... help me?" You laggardly open your arms up to him, a pout forming at your mouth.
Your eyes are too heavy to catch the way Jeonghan is gazing at you so adoringly right now. He takes your outstretched arms and helps to hoist you up to your feet. For a moment, you're eye-to-eye, your head spinning slightly from the sudden movement and the world tilting a little as you stand.
Jeonghan secures a hand at your lower back as he carefully leads you out of the bathroom and back into your bedroom, catching a glimpse to the remains of the party from earlier scattered about the room. Balloons hang lazily at the ceiling, confetti laying across the floor𑁋you can deal with it in the morning.
"You're a hot mess," he comments teasingly, though there's a fondness in his tone as he guides you to the bed.
You flop down onto the mattress with a groan, the softness of the pillows cushioning against your throbbing head. Jeonghan disappears for a minute to retrieve a bottle of pills from the bathroom and a glass of water from the kitchen, placing it on your bedside table before sitting down beside you, his hand reaching out to brush hair away from your forehead.
You crack open an eye to look at him, feeling yourself trying so hard to not fall asleep on the spot.
"Do... you think they know?"
Jeonghan looks back down at you. "Who?"
"Every... Everyone who came today, uh..." You mutter, motioning the air with your hand. "I didn't... do anything weird out there, right? We haven't really told anyone about us yet..."
Jeonghan purses his lips together, eyelids fluttering as if he's trying to remember the events of the party. He crosses his arms together, and you should probably know from the smirk appearing at his face that𑁋
"Hm, like, weird as in when you tried to kiss me earlier after you sang karaoke? Or𑁋"
"Are you being serious right now?!" There's a long, drawn out unintelligible sound that you whine as you bury your face into the pillow, the cool fabric soothing against your flushed cheeks. "Oh my god, I'm so stupid..."
"My love, I still don't entirely understand why we have to hide it," Jeonghan says gently, his fingers trailing lightly along your arm. "Your affection is pretty obvious, you know."
You snort at that, but you can't really deny it anyway since yeah, you are pretty affectionate with him. And it isn't that you don't want people to know. The thought of people knowing is completely fine, but it's really just that your friends can be absolute nutcases sometimes, and you really don't want to be at the teasing end of the stick right now when all you want is a bit of privacy, at least in the beginning.
"I just... I want you all to myself, you know?" You ramble drowsily, words still slightly slurred. "Just wanna... um, keep this between us for now. N-Not that I'm ashamed or anything, I just... want this to be ours."
Jeonghan lets his eyes take you in for a few moments, a soft look gracing over his features. He glances down at the way his hand seems to seems to instinctively find yours, your fingers intertwining loosely. Frankly, he’s already yours𑁋been yours from the moment the thought of you started to become a frequent visitor to his head.
"Of course," he assures lightly, not taking his eyes off you even while adjusting the pillows so you're in a more comfortable position. "Get some sleep now, okay?"
"M'kay," You utter out, feeling the weight of the bed lift when Jeonghan stands up. Yet as a thought crosses your mind, you call out to him, "Jeonghan?"
He pauses, turning back to look at you with gentle eyes.
"I... I do love you, you know," You confess slowly, almost hesitantly, like that small flicker of sobriety had finally peeked through the haze of alcohol. "Even if I'm shit at showing it."
Jeonghan feels his heart racing in his chest, and the heat flaring at the tips of his ears. On the surface, it's normally hard to detect such reactions to whatever loving, cheesy, romantic stuff you've said to him (since usually, he'd rather tease you into the grave instead). But on the inside, his heart is practically doing cartwheels, somersaults, and backflips all at once𑁋he would quite literally do anything for you.
"Are you going to remember any of this in the morning?" he remarks playfully.
You only shrug loosely, eyelids drooping from exhaustion. "I might... maybe. But, uh, at least you know, right?"
His lips just curl up lovingly. Even if you don’t remember it, those three words would be the first things he would say every morning anyway.
"I love you too, angel," he says against the skin of your temple. "Happy birthday."
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beeslibrarycorner · 3 days
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Night Time Aid
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WARNING: MDNI, smut
You were tossing and turning, frustrated that you couldn’t fall asleep. Your nightgown felt constricting the more you moved and the heat radiating off of cooper wasn’t helping much either. You hadn’t realized cooper had woken up until his arm tightened around you.
“Go back to bed baby, I’m sorry I woke you up” you grumbled as you yawned and rubbed your eyes trying to get out of his grip. Your attempt was useless because he kept inching closer.
“I’m not going back to sleep until I know your sleeping” he murmured and pushed his face into the skin of your neck. He suddenly detached from you and sat up.
“I have an idea” he said a grin growing on his face as he pulled you up with him. He dragged you out of bed and guided you to the living room. He pushed you onto the recliner and you let him, curious about what his idea was.
He grabbed the remote and turned on the tv, put it to a channel with some documentary on. He threw the remote somewhere and then dropped to his knees, “what are you doing?” you asked him.
“I’m going to help fix your little problem, just relax and watch what’s on the tv” he said and then he pulled up your nightgown and he got to work.
Mouth finding your clit instantly and sucking hard. You gasped at the sensation, your hand moving to grab onto the arms of the chair to steady yourself.
The light of the tv illuminated the both of you in a low blue light. You looked down to watch what cooper was doing and he met your gaze.
He opened his mouth and licked up what was leaking out of your cunt. “Keep your focus on the screen don’t focus on me honey” he said before closing his mouth around your clit again and humming at the taste.
You tried bucking your hips into his face but he pinned your hips down with one arm. You couldn’t even focus on what was on the screen, your eyes felt too heavy.
He abruptly stopped sucking on your clit and inserted two fingers into you. He rests his head on the top of your thigh.
“My poor little love needs to relax, that’s why I’m here sweetheart. So I can help you shut your brain off” he cooed his fingers crooking upward into the spongy tissue.
You tighten up at the feeling and he chuckles. “Look at you” he cooed. You looked down to see his smiling face. “You look so relaxed already, good girl” he said.
He took his fingers out of you and put them in his mouth humming at the taste. You looked at him puzzled the pleasure you were feeling was ebbing away.
“Don’t look so disappointed sweetheart, I promise you everything is going to feel so good.” He said reassuringly.
And then he got back to work rubbing your clit slowly before insirting two fingers in again. You hummed throwing your head back relishing in the pleasure you were feeling.
“She is so needy isn’t she?” he asked and you looked at him not really understanding what he was getting at. He continues, “your pussy, she’s very needy and demanding isn’t she sweetheart??
You nod feeling goosebumps spread at his words and the way everything feels. The first inkling of a warning that your orgasm was coming startled you.
You were enjoying the constant pleasure that you didn’t want it to end. Cooper smirked knowingly, he always knew when you were starting to get close even before you knew.
“Let go sweetie, you’ll feel so much better afterward” he murmured before reattaching his mouth to your clit and curling his fingers hard.
He hummed against the flesh, the sensation made you eyes roll to the back of your head. The pressure and movement of his fingers against your upper wall felt like too much.
It was inevitable, you cum seconds later and it’s intense. You inhale a sharp breathe, convulsing against his mouth and fingers. He doesn’t let up until he knows your fully spent and stops when overstimulation starts to seep in.
The both of you catch your breath, the tv playing in the background. There’s a coral reef and colorful fish on screen, the both of you look in silence before he grabs the remote from the floor and turns the tv off.
He turns to you, a lazy grin on his face. “You look so much more relaxed honey, let’s get you to bed” he said before pulling you to stand with him.
He brings you back to bed after cleaning you up. He was pressing kisses into your skin and telling you how much of a good girl you were and how much he loved you.
“I wouldn’t mind being between your legs every time you have trouble falling asleep” he murmured into your hair and you giggled at the comment.
He started rubbing slow soothing circles into your back. It only took a couple of minutes for you to fall asleep with your head cradled against his chest.
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pholla-jm · 2 days
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I feel like Sukuna is the type to have a daughter with her mom's angelic looks and her father's power and personality haha. Can I ask for some cute scenarios of them please? 🙏
Hello! This was such a cute idea! I couldn't think of anything good, but I came up with some stuff. However, if I do come up with more, I'll definitely tag you!
Like Daughter, Like Father
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IMAGINE: LIKE DAUGHTER, LIKE FATHER GENRE: FLUFF cw: not proof read. mention of blood and killing *****************
Everyone thinks that Sukuna would have a son, and spend most of his time with his son. 
However, the universe decided to bless him with a daughter instead. 
And she definitely took her mom’s looks. An exact copy and paste. 
Like an angel sent straight down to heaven. If you took one look at her, she looked so innocent and peaceful. 
However, anyone that spent time with her knew that she was just like her daddy. 
In fact, you knew that she was going to be such a daddy’s girl when she said her first word. Well, more like shouted. 
Sukuna was about to leave to walk around another village, leaving you and your daughter at the castle. 
You could tell that she was getting upset by her wiggling movements and grabby hands towards her father. However, that didn’t really stop Sukuna. What came out of your daughter's mouth next definitely made him stop. 
“Daddy!” She shouts and Sukuna stops. His body was slightly tense, like he was processing what he just heard. 
His little girl, shouting his name. Almost like she was beckoning him over. His brain was telling him that no one tells him what to do. But his heart and body was telling him something different. He couldn’t just walk away from his child. 
He turns around, a bit surprised with the look on her face. 
Her eyebrows were furrowed, lips turned into a pout and she was glaring at him. 
“Awe, you said your first words.” You coo at her. “Daddy.” She says again, but more stern. “Ooh, sounds like someone is mad.” You start to tease. 
Sukuna rolls his eyes and walks back over to you and his daughter. He takes her from you, her body being enveloped in his arms. Any child would probably be scared to be held by him. But she wanted it. She wanted to stick right by his side. 
“Daddy.” She says again. “Tch, what do you want, brat?” 
Her glare just hardens and you laugh.
“Oh, this is too good. Looks like you’re spending the day with her.” 
You were amused with how much your daughter is like Sukuna. She always sported a serious look on her face and she glared at every single person that she didn’t know. Sure, she took your looks. But she stole his whole personality. 
“Huh?” Sukuna looks at you a bit shocked as you start to leave the room. 
“Make sure to bring her back alive.” Your daughter wasn’t even paying attention to you as you left. All of her attention is on her daddy, already planning on how to make his life harder. 
***********
“Where is that brat?” Sukuna mumbles as he walks through the hallways. His steps were a bit faster than usual, as he looked for his daughter. She for some reason thought it was a good idea to play hide n seek even though Sukuna said no. 
However, she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Now Sukuna is slightly stressed out as he looks for the tiny half human/curse. 
“If you don’t come out, your mother is going to kill me.” 
It was silent for a couple of minutes, and then he heard the teeny tiny patter of feet coming towards him. 
He turns around, looking down at his daughter. 
His eyes widened seeing that she was covered in red. His brain immediately goes to the worst. He walks up to her, bending down to her level. 
“Kill?” She repeats. “Yes. Kill. Something that your mother is going to do if you did something bad.” He mumbles as he inspects her for any cuts or wounds.
He was relieved seeing that it wasn’t her blood. His thumb smudges at one of the red stains, bringing it to his mouth. “Cranberries?” 
“Cwanbewies.” She repeats with a large smile on her face. 
Sukuna lets out a sigh of relief. “Where did you even get cranberries?” 
“Kitchen.” Sukana nods his head. “Wait, how did you get in there? What about the servants?” 
She’s silent for a moment, like she's thinking about her answer. “Kill.” She says.
“You kill?” He asks and she nods her head with a proud look on her face. 
She didn’t exactly know how to communicate that the servant got in the way of her cranberries. She just simply got rid of the obstacle. 
Sukuna looks down and sees that there is indeed blood staining the bottom of her yukuta. Sukuna smiles, proud of her actions. 
Then, you popped into his head. You were the exact opposite of these two. And he already knows that you would not be happy. 
“Okay, don’t tell mom.” “Tell mom?” “No.” “I tell mom.” “I just said no.” “Mom!” “Shut it!” “No, you.” 
Sukuna covers her mouth, his hand covering most of her face. He stands up, picking her up in the process. He looks around, looking for any sign of you. 
He was relieved that you didn’t hear what was going on. 
“Listen. You don’t say a word, and I’ll get you your favorite chocolate.”  Her eyes lit up and she nodded her head. “Alright, good. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
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ghouljams · 2 days
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More fae!Gaz, he's so boyfriend, he's always there when you need him. Even if you didn't know he'd be there or that you'd need him! That's just how great he is!
You duck under an awning to escape the sudden downpour, already soaked to the bone. You look out at the pouring rain, tip your head to try and get a glimpse at how the clouds are moving, and sigh. You'll just have to wait it out. You wish you'd brought your umbrella.
The door beside you chimes, and there's the click fwump of an umbrella being opened. You glance at the man looking out at the rain, you recognize him. You've had a few conversations with him. Not friends, not even acquaintances, but not strangers either. What was his name again?
Something whispers through your mind, bounces and echoes: Gaz, Gaz, Gaz.
"Gaz?" You confirm. He turns to looks at you, and his eyes spark with recognition. He smiles and you smile back.
"Hey there sunshine," Gaz grins, his eyes drag over you, bounce across your chest and the way your soaked shirt clings to you, "gone for a swim?"
You laugh, shake your head and then shake it harder to try and get some of the water off it. You don't know how rain always feels so much colder and wetter than regular water, but you can feel it drip off you thickly. Gaz laughs, it sounds like chocolate. You don't- you don't know how to describe it. It's like chocolate. Rich and sweet, but dark with a hint of bitterness that makes you want to hear it again and again. You find yourself staring at him, pushing your hair off your forehead to stop the water from rolling down into your eyes. Already you've had to blink away the drops that settled on your lashes.
"Didn't bring my umbrella," you explain. Gaz nods, the cocks his head back towards the shop door.
"S'why I stopped in for one."
"Smart, don't know why I didn't think of that." You watch the rain fall for a moment, before you're struck with recollection. "We live in the same building right?" Gaz hums.
"You knocked on my door for a cuppa once." You nod and he shifts his grip on the umbrella, holding it between you. "You asking to share?"
"Could save me a few pounds," You're only half joking, stepping closer until your shoulder brushes his.
"What if I'm not headed for the tube?" You look up at Gaz, watch him cock a brow curiously. He never loses his smile. Something itches in the back of your mind, warning you against friendly strangers. Something else quiets it, pets the scared animal into submission with that soft echoing whisper: Gaz, Gaz, Gaz.
"Then you can just drop me off at the nearest station and be on your way," you reason. That seems to amuse him, something sparking in his eyes that lights up his smile. He's warm. Green. Natural. You can smell the dirt of a nearby flower pot, the dust of the city. Petrichor, your brain supplies. The smell of dust after rain.
Mentally you kick yourself. From a fucking Doctor Who episode ya numpty. Trying to sound poetic when you're just quoting a damn- and it's not even an episode you liked! Ugh.
Gaz taps your forehead, two gentle taps that make you blink. There's something familiar in the gesture, friendly in a way that's overly friendly for how close you aren't.
"Looked like you were getting lost in there," he says when you smack your hand against the tapped skin.
"Well throw down a rope then," you grumble. Your therapist is right you gotta start being more present. This is why you get caught in the rain, too busy day dreaming.
"How about I get you home first," Gaz jokes.
"Just to the station is fine," you tell him, hurrying to stay under the umbrella as he starts walking. Gaz shrugs, the umbrella shifts, and you press closer to avoid soaking your shoulder a second time.
"I'm going home anyway, may as well take you with me."
You roll your eyes. An alarm bell rings in the back of your mind, smothered by a thick magic that whispers to you: Gaz, Gaz, Gaz.
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kingkaizen · 6 hours
Text
𝓯𝓸𝓬𝓾𝓼
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∘ desc: studying is always best when you're getting your pussy played with <3
∘ ft: nanami
∘ a/n: for all of my loves approaching finals week, hope this helps <3
∘ includes: fingering, pussy slaps, choking, overstimulation
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“Focus for me, sweetheart.”
Nanami’s calloused fingertips hovering just slightly over your soaked cunt was the only thing your clouded brain could focus on. Sitting with your back against his chest, legs spread and notebook in hand, he wasn’t referring to you to focus on him. No, he wants you to try your hardest to absorb as much information from that notebook as you could. With your finals coming up, it’s incredibly important to make sure you’re effectively studying in order to get the best grade possible. Nanami thinks that your education is important, and he will do everything he can to make sure that you pass all of your classes.
“You’re always so wet for me.” Nanami mutters to himself, always in awe by how beautiful you look all spread out for him. “Go ahead, read the next paragraph honey.” Your eyes search on the white page for what you read last, finding your place before reading out loud.
“This n-next section illustrates -fuck- the essentials for…” You trail off, brain fogged over at the feeling of him finally making contact with your throbbing clit. He circles around it slowly before applying just the right amount of pleasure, causing you to throw your head back onto his chest. His fingers leave your body just as fast as they got there, making you groan in frustration.
“Kento, I can’t do this anymore. Please just touch me already.” You’re growing increasingly frustrated at this point. Fuck your exam, you just want him inside of you. Nanami has other plans, however, shaking his head no at your request.
“You know I can’t do that, love. This test is more important than whatever this pretty little pussy of yours wants.” Nanami gives your cunt two quick slaps, making you jump in surprise at the sudden contact. “Finish reading this page and I’ll reward you, come on.” You could feel Nanami’s warm breath tickling your ear as his fingers made their way back, teasing you so much that it’s driving you insane. You’re growing more and more desperate by the second, hands shaking in anticipation as you continue reading. The further you get down the page, the more Nanami is willing to give you. 
“...and with that, c-concludes the end of this chapter.” As soon as you get that last sentence out, Nanami plunges two thick fingers into you, curving them ever so slightly to hit that gummy spot that causes you to cry out in delight. You’re gripping his biceps with so much force, trying anything to keep you grounded as he shows you no mercy. He’s putting his forearm to work, tiring his wrist out to push in and out of you as his other hand grips your neck to push your head back against his chest. The eye contact is so intense, hand wrapping around your throat making you clench around his fingers.
“So greedy.” Nanami chuckles, watching the way your eyes flutter closed in your pathetic attempts to keep them open. “Gonna cum all over my fingers? C’mon baby, let it all out for me.” Nanami’s words made your heart pound even harder, legs shaking as that feeling deep in your tummy starts to overwhelm you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, thighs closing around his hand as you gush all over him. He groans at the sight, fingers slowing down inside of you as he works you through your high. He kisses all over the side of your face and neck, each touch of his lips feeling like sparks of electricity over your skin. Sensing that you’re finally coming back down, his fingers make slow movements inside once more. You whimper at the feeling, pleasure coursing through your veins once more. 
“Too much, Kento!” You cry out, hands gripping his wrist in a weak attempt to pry his large hand away from your warmth. He doesn’t move an inch, instead adjusting the hand on his neck to slowly move down over your collarbones, fingers twisting over one of your nipples. “I’m sure you could take it. You’ve been such a good girl for me, let me give you a treat for all of your hard work.”
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© kingkaizen | do not copy, steal, or duplicate!
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Heya!!
So I'm a little obsessed with the secret relationship trope... i was wondering if you could do an Astarion x reader secret relationship but maybe during a fight, reader dies and has to be revivified? And Astarion freaks out, like he goes semiferal and histerical?
Maybe it could be during the fight with his siblings at camp so now Cazador knows he has someone he holds dear (even if Astarion doesn't want to admit it yet) which is what they were trying to avoid?
Thank you so much!!!!
🗒 ꒰⸝⸝₊ All I Want ❛ ✧
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Featuring: Astarion x Reader
Not proofread!
# Notes: I'm not too good with drabbles but I rly like this idea so I decided to try! also no use of "y/n" because I'll be honest I'm not a fan of it lmao
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It was his idea to keep the relationship a secret.
He knew how that sounded — like he was ashamed of his partner, like he didn't want anyone to know for the sake of his reputation. That wasn't true, and he assured them of it. It was simply a precaution, something to protect them both. Now that they arrived at Baldur's Gate and are closer to Cazador than ever, he couldn't take any chances. Not when it came to them, at least.
He wasn't used to this — caring about someone other than himself. It was always about his survival, but now he had someone else to worry about. Someone whose life was worth a lot more than his own. Someone he couldn't afford to lose.
So, he kept it a secret. It wasn't exactly easy to go about their day pretending to be nothing more than companions, friends at most. Ever since they got together, he realized just how starved he was for any kind of attention, any kind of affection. Having to refrain from touching them too much or being his usual, flirty self hasn't been a simple feat. But he knew how important it was that they kept things under wraps.
His feet were killing him after a long day of adventuring, from Wyrm's Crossing all the way to the Lower City. At least they managed to avoid some confrontation for today, so he had one less thing to complain about. They got settled in an inn and he managed to sneak out for a few seconds with his partner to at least get a good night's kiss. He wanted more, but knew that would have to suffice.
The others had already fallen asleep, but he remained tossing and turning. Something felt off. He wasn't sure what, but his nerves were on end, like his fight or flight response had picked up on something he himself hadn't yet. Perhaps that was for the best, as it allowed him to notice the sound of footsteps early enough to stand up and grab a dagger. His hand shook slightly, wrapped around the handle of the weapon as two familiar faces walked in. He felt sick. He knew what they were here to do.
"Get the hells away from me!" It wasn't quite a yell, but definitely loud enough to wake the others. He instinctively took a few steps back, trying to maintain a distance far enough to deceive his brain into believing that he was somewhat safe. "Peace, brother. We're here to take you home." Aurelia uttered somewhat gently, but it almost made him puke. Brother. Home. Just the notion of it made him dizzy with disgust. The Szarr Palace wasn't his home, and these goons were not his family — he was tired of playing along with this fucked up game of pretend.
It didn't take long for a fight to break out, despite his attempts at deception. He should've known Cazador wouldn't let him off easy. Karlach was the first to react, letting out a guttural scream of rage as she charged at Violet. The axe cut through flesh before the spawn could realize what was happening, getting stuck where it met bone. She screamed, but was soon silenced by another blow. While it was supposed to be lethal, she simply vanished into a cloud of black smoke instead of dropping dead on the ground.
Leon was next, aiming for the person who was closest to where he stood which, to Astarion's despair, happened to be his darling. The spawn's claws slashed their skin open, blood splattering on the floor as they yelped in pain. Astarion didn't think — he simply acted, pouncing on Leon only to drive his dagger through his heart one, two, three times, until he too vanished into thin air. He snapped his head back in their direction just in time to see Yousen sneaking up, grabbing them from behind and sinking his teeth into their neck. The scream, the way their eyes squeezed shut in agony and their hands clawed against the spawn holding them still was enough to make Astarion see red.
He hardly remembered moving. But he did remember the screams. Not from his darling, but from his brother, as he drove the dagger into the side of his neck and twisted it. He looked back at his lover again, but the dark cloud from Yousen obscured his vision. He didn't hear screaming anymore. Only his ears ringing slightly and the sound of laboured breathing from his companions.
When he could finally see again, he almost wished he couldn't. That'd be better than the sight of his beloved's body sprawled out on the floor atop a pool of blood, their empty, cold eyes gazing into his soul. He rushed to their side despite his shaking legs, stumbling on his way there until he fell to his knees beside them. He raised their head by the back of their neck, resting it on top of his thigh. He hardly realized he was hyperventilating, hands shaking violently as he cradled one of their cheeks in his palm. "No, no... You can't die. Wake up, damn it!" He choked out, his voice rising from a whisper full of disbelief to a screech of the utmost despair.
Karlach too rushed to their side, fumbling with her bag with quivering hands. "H-Hold on, soldier, I think..." She stuttered out nervously before cutting herself off as she pulled a scroll of revivify from the bag. She knelt next to the two and placed the parchment atop the corpse's chest. It glowed a bright white light, seemingly seeping into their skin. There was a deafening silence for a few seconds when suddenly, they woke up with a loud gasp, eyes widening as life was brought back into their being.
The pale elf didn't waste a second before pulling them into a hug, not minding the blood staining his clothes. He hid his face in the crook of their neck, only a small sob and whisper being heard from him. "Oh, thank the gods... Please, please never do that again..." He choked out before pulling away from the embrace, cupping their cheek and pressing his lips against theirs. He never felt that before. That immense sense of hopelessness, agony and grief. Not to this level, not of this kind — and he'd make sure he never felt it again.
However, as he pulled away from the kiss, he saw something in the distance. Aurelia, bleeding out on the ground, watching them seconds before she too vanished into the darkness. If he still had a heart, it would have skipped a beat out of sheer terror alone. Cazador knew. He knew about his spawn's newfound love. And Astarion would have to be a fool not to expect his master to take advantage of that fact.
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littlemorningstarx · 3 days
Text
Warning: this is fantasy, and only roleplaying between consenting adults would make this scenes okay outside of fantasies, if you can't comprehend consent, go away. I'm very serious about this.
—————————
Imagine being a 9yo who would do anything for their daddy, anything.
Imagine being so desperate for dad's love that you're happy when he gropes your little butt or tells you to strip and sucks on your nipples
Imagine being so jealous of mom, you're actually glad when dad sneaks out of their bed at night to go to your room and bend you over like a hooker that has no value for him
Imagine loving the feeling of his cock inside of your little k!dcvnny because you're so touch starved for daddy you can only moan and whimper for him as he touches you
Imagine being glad at him throwing insults at you like "you're such a desperate little 9yo whore" and "you can't help your nature even as a little girl, can you, slut? You just have to have adult cock in that little cvnny of yours", nodding your head to confirm everything he says — because you know he's right.
Imagine saying the most disgusting things to him just so he will keep touching you like that: "Your adult cock stretches my little 9yo pussy so good, daddy, I love it" and "Rape me like I'm not your daughter because that's my place".
Imagine start wearing short skirts and little hello kitty dresses because you know it's easier for him to just pull you into his cock
Imagine him bringing your big brother into the room, finding you already ass up and face down like a little bitch in heat, saying to your big bro "it's holes are for us to fuck, abuse and breed, son, so enjoy your fucktoy as much as you like"
Imagine being tied up in the spread eagle position by big bro one weekend mom in on a work trip and be left there with a vibrator in tour little clit for over an hour before your dad enters with a bunch of his friends, seeing your little 9yo pussy drooling and glistening for hard adult cocks like theirs and your brother enjoying your mouth as you moan mindlessly.
Imagine being raped over and over and over by all of these men, half of which your little kid brain can't remember, but it doesn't matter because there are cocks in your pussy and ass, stretching you to the point of pain.
But dad's looking at you with his eyes heated as you're raped over and over by his friends. As you cum once more, your pussy sore from all the pleasure and tears running down your face, dad bends down and says to you:
"You'll be such a good family fucktoy, whore. Such a pretty k!ddycvnt for us to rape. Moan for it, whore"
Just... Imagine
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pixiesfz · 1 day
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I didn’t know j.f x r
plot: you like Jessie but she thinks your straight
warnings: themes of cheating (Jessie could never actually do the act) , alcohol
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You had officially given up.
How could you have let your originally small and little crush get so big.
Your teammate was clogging up your brain for the last month, every thing she said or did just drove you absolutely crazy.
You never date, you usually didn’t have time for girls so the team never saw you date or come home with a gal on your arm, you were always so scared they would run away because of your career but Jessie had the same career it was different.
You flirted with her aimlessly and you would catch her blushing and heard her fumble on her words, you just hoped that she could pick up the hint and ask you out or something.
But she never did.
So you never had the confidence to do it yourself, but you should’ve.
Cause here she was now, introducing her new girlfriend to the team on a night out.
“This is Annabelle” she introduced the two of you and you fake smiled “nice to meet you Annabelle, you look very nice”
She did in fact look very nice… you hated it.
When the couple walked away you beelined to the toilet, ignoring the way Jessie looked over to you in concern.
Niamh shook her head at her friend’s obliviousness “she was talking about how before she really needed to pee” she explained lied to Jessie who slowly nodded.
You paced around the toilet, swearing profanities to yourself to be happy for the girl, you never had her and she wasn’t yours, you have no right to feel jealous.
But you did.
The green little monster was taking full control of you , and it did as soon as Jessie and blondie walked in.
God you couldn’t even go five minutes without already finding a way to be petty with the girl you didn’t even know.
She could be really nice.
You didn’t want to get to know her, you didn’t want to see if she was nice, you didn’t want Jessie to be happy with her.
Because you would be so much better.
You just had to get your mind off of it, off of her.
You downed the rest of your drink and walked out straight to the bar to get a new one and an extra shot which you downed as soon as you got it.
Sam, your national teammate and one of the only girls to know about your crush on the Canadian clapped your back as she came to your side.
“You good?” She asked and you raised your brows “I shouldn’t be feeling like this” you groaned, the vodka burning your throat.
Sam shrugged “I mean this relationship is still new I mean you could still go up to her-“ “no” you declared and Sam shrugged “wouldn’t hurt”
“Except it would hurt, I have made it extremely obvious I like her and if she hasn’t made a move yet then it means she doesn’t want to” you explained, anger running through your veins at realising how stupid you were to think that it could be different.
Your conversation was interrupted by Jessie and her girlfriend not long after when they went up to get a drink, you had just ordered a second shot, Sam deciding to join you.
Jessie looked at you both weirdly, you weren’t one to drink on a night out, she knew because usually she didn’t and you would both laugh in the corner about everyone else’s actions.
She remembers those times so well because she would blush so hard whenever you rested your hand on her thigh like or pressed your leg up to hers.
She just assumed you were being friendly.
You were always just being friendly in Jessie’s eyes.
Because in Jessie’s mind she thought you were straight. You had never talked about a girl or a guy in the changing rooms or gossiped about a one night stand with a girl like many of your teammates did.
She had seen one photo of you at a festival years ago when you were still playing in Australia kissing a boys cheek and she decided that you must be straight and he must of been an ex boyfriend of yours.
His name was Dion and he was your dance partner during performances, his boyfriend was the one who took the picture.
When you started flirting with Jessie she was a mess, she kept on reminding herself that you were straight and that you were just being friendly.
you weren’t.
Niamh had tried to convince her friend to just ask you out anyway out of the chance that you weren’t fully straight but Jessie couldn’t, she didn’t know if she could handle being rejected by you.
Jessie had decided that the only way she could stop herself from falling in love with you was to be with someone else.
therefor, Annabelle.
She was most scared of your reaction, your smile didn’t reach your eyes like they usually do when you said hello and usually you never hold your bladder for too long, you always go as soon as you need to so it was weird for you to run off like that.
You were acting weird.
Jessie knew that but she didn’t know why?
“Are you alright?” Jessie asked you as Annabelle ordered for both of them “peachy” you answered dry and she furrowed her brows “you don’t usually drink, especially shots” she said, slightly annoyed at your tone at her “well neither do you but she’s got two drinks in her hands and I’m assuming she’s not drinking two” you deadpan and Jessie looked nervously behind her to Annabelle who stood their awkwardly waiting for your conversation to end before they both left.
Sam lowered her head on your shoulder, “I don’t want to suggest sleeping with a random stranger buuuttt” she dragged out and pointed to behind your shoulder “that girl over there has been looking over at you every 10 seconds, even though you look like a depressed puppy”
You rolled your eyes but looked behind you to see the girl, she was your type for sure and she was looking at you with a look in her eye which definitely were not saying “relationship”.
This was exactly what you needed.
A distraction.
“alright” you told your captain who fake cheered, ignoring the stare a certain Canadian was giving you two as you got up and took another shot.
Annabelle was explaining a story of how her work shift went to her and Erin but Jessie couldn’t take her eyes off of you.
Her back was laid against the bars pillar, drink in her hand as she watched you behind her girlfriend’s shoulder, she knew she was being a terrible girlfriend but she couldn’t help it.
It was you.
But she never expected to see what you did next, after taking your shot you waved softly at someone behind the bar and you smiled, flirting… you were flirting with someone.
Jessie’s heart dropped but she quickly shook her head. You have every right to flirt with people, She was no longer in the picture being taken and it wasn’t like she was in the picture anyway, single.
She almost dropped her drink when the person you were flirting with walked up to you.
They were tall, tatted on the arms and female.
FEMALE.
everything made sense now.
Jessies breath hitched as you stepped closer to the girl, the alcohol you had consumed taking over your body.
Jessie propped her empty glass on the table next to her and excused herself, anger bubbling through her.
Niamh who watched the whole ordeal from her seat next to her girlfriend who was entertained by the drama in front of her quickly walked up to her best friend.
“Jessie” she stopped her friend who tried to walk around her “Jessie” she said again in a stern tone which caused the Canadian to finally take her eyes off of you and the girl who were still talking.
“Jessie, Annabelle is right behind you” Niamh said “Y/N isn’t thinking straight she’s drunk” Jessie pointed at you “And so are you” Niamh told her
“Niamh can you take Annabelle home, tell her some shitty excuse about us having a football thing, you’re the only sober person” Jessie rambled and Niamh’s eyes widened.
“Jessie think about what you’re going to do” Niamh said but the Canadians eyes were angry and they were set on you.
“Just get her home safely, I’ll get an Uber”. she said, pulling up her phone and ordering an Uber immediately.
Niamh sighed before walking over to Annabelle with a fake smile as Niamh’s girlfriend sent Jessie a pointed look, a faint smile on her lips as she watched the Canadians eyes soften on you.
Jessie waited for both Niamh and Annabelle to leave before making her way to you.
You were talking to the girl in front of you, she had her fingers running up and down your arms, it wasn’t giving you goosebumps which annoyed you but you weren’t planning on remembering this girls name in the morning.
You assumed she wrapped her arm around your waist but your body jolted and goose bumps erupted your whole body but you still felt warm, it wasn’t until you felt a breath against your ear you realised it wasn’t girl in front of you.
“Hi babe, I think it’s time we leave yes?” Jessie asked from next to you but her eyes were glaring holes into the girl in front of you
“Jessie?” You asked, shocked and you looked around for Annabelle who was nowhere to be seen, she squeezed your waist tighter “that’s my name” she smiled at you before turning back to the girl
“We’re gonna go, bye now!”
Jessie looked at her phone seeing that the Uber had arrived before grabbing your bag that was still on your seat and dragging you outside with her.
Your feeling of shock had faded away as anger flew in at the girl next to you.
“Jessie what the fuck are you doing?!”
“Your drunk you’re not thinking properly”
“You’re drunk too!”
“Not drunk enough to know I’m making a mistake” she said before opening the door for you.
You’re not even sure why you got in, your teammate sliding in next to you.
Jessie held her breath, looking outside the window every time you looked glared at her, scared if she looked at you she would do something she would regret.
You didn’t say anything either, confusion clogging your brain, why had Jessie done that, why hadn’t she got be home with Annabelle, why was she so shocked to see you with that girl, why did she pretend to be your girlfriend!
When the Uber stopped you didn’t take Jessie’s hand and instead got out the other side of the car.
You stomped up the stairs to your house, Jessie quickly following behind you”I was completely fine back there Jessie why would you-“
“So you’re not straight?”
The question through you off guard, turning around to the girl who stopped in her tracks “what?!” You yelled and the girl winced
“Just all this time I thought you were straight-“
“You what?!”
“I thought you were being very friendly!”
“And now I know you’re not and I just- everything makes sense now! And I acted on my feelings and it’s just all crashing on me now!” She yelled back at you, your eyes still widened.
“How the fuck did you think I was straight when I was flirting with you twenty four seven!”
“I thought you were being friendly!”
You widened your eyes at the girl who had her hands by her side, bewildered you threw head back “fuck me!” You yelled out of frustration.
“How can you be so smart but so dumb” you said softly as Jessie walked up to reach you at the front of your door “I don’t know” she shrugged and you looked at your feet “well surprise I have a crush on you” you joked but crossed your head “but you have a girlfriend now”
Jessie rolled her eyes “I only got a girlfriend so I could take my mind off of you”
“This is fucked” you muttered under your breath as Jessie did the same.
Jessie moved closer to you and grabbed your hands out of comfort, when you looked up the two of you were face to face.
“What do we do now?” You asked softly but Jessie wasn’t looking you in the eyes, she was looking at your lips “Jessie” you muttered and she looked down at you, giving you the perfect view of her own lips which now you stared at.
“Y/N” she muttered back before you looked her in the eye
“we can’t” you told her, stepping back “Annabelle” she said, declaring what you were thinking.
Jessie stepped back aswell “I have something I need to do” she said, dropping your hands before walking back down to the Uber.
You were not surprised when a couple days later Jessie arrived at your front door with flowers, a DVD player and take-away.
“You are such a loser”.
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Text
Ready, Aim, Shoot (3)
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Hi guys!
I post it again, the other one just disappeared without any reason. Sorry if you already red it.
TW : Blood, creepy psychologist, panic attack, angst, depression.
PART 1 | PART 2
Blood. There is blood everywhere. The more you look, the more there is. You look at your shaking hands, cover in red. You don’t know whose blood is it though. The room you are in is only white, adding to the contrast with the blood color. Breathing quickly, you look around and that’s when you finally see her.
Alexia.
Alexia is laying in the middle of the room, her body surrounded by red too. Panicking, you kneel next to her, shaking her to try to wake her. But she doesn’t. She stays still in your hand, not moving. Not breathing. This is when you scream.
You scream so much that it wakes you up suddenly. Heavily breathing, you sit on your bed, blindly trying to find the button on your bedside lamp. You finally managed to find it, but when you put the light on, Alexia isn’t next to you in your bed.
It’s only when you left your room to look for her that you remember. She’s not here tonight, she’s sleeping in Tenerife, where she played today. Or yesterday, because it’s actually three in the morning. It’s the first time she leaves
you alone for all the night since you came back.
Alexia Is not here, but it’s your fault. You assured her that you will be ok, almost pushing her out of your flat. She made you swear to call her if you need her, no matter what time is it. She asked Mapi to come to look for you last night, so you watched the game with the blonde before she went home. You fell asleep quickly actually, you were far to imagine a wake up like that.
You should really call her; she will be disappointed with you if she learns the state of panic you are in without calling her. But you hate the idea to wake her up at this time of the night. She played yesterday, she’s coming home today. She needs to rest.
You find refuge on your couch, putting the TV on. But you can’t forget the picture of Alexia and the blood everywhere. You feel like it’s still on your body, no matter how many times you look at your hands to be sure that you don’t have a little red on you. Thirty minutes after you wake up, you decided to go take a shower.
You pass a long time under it, water burning, washing your body again and again. You ignore the scare that your accident left on your body. You hate them. No matter how many times Alexia kissed them, telling you that you are strong and even more beautiful than before.
You feel guilty as hell when you think about your girlfriend. She is amazing with you, so patient and so loving. You don’t feel like you deserve her. You don’t make any progress with your mental health and it’s disturbing. You even think about breaking up with Alexia one time, disgusting by yourself. She deserves so much more than you. But right after you had a panic attack, because how can you live without her? She’s your whole world.
You are not even strong enough to make the things right for her.
When the feeling of the hot water and the strength with which you rubbed your skin became too much to handle, you stop the water and get out of the shower. This time your skin is red, but you know why.
You pick a hoodie from Alexia and one of her old Barcelona’s short. If you can’t have your girlfriend’s arms, at least you can have her smell. And, after some hesitation, you even take her pillow to go with you to the couch of your living room. You take snack and watch some stupid things on TV while scrolling on your phone.
You are still tired, but you don’t want to take the risk to fall asleep again. You’re terrified to have this dream again. Every time the images came back in your brain, you try to hug Alexia’s pillow harder. It kind of work, but it has nothing to do with Alexia’s comfort.
You fall asleep after 8 o’clock, after your girlfriend told you that they are boarding and that she will be home soon.
You are still asleep when Alexia comes home. She smiles seeing you laying on the couch, cuddle against her pillow, in her clothes. You are watching YouTube now, from her account, and you choose the playlist where she puts all the games she finds interesting. Only putting her suitcase on the ground, she comes to sit next to you, softly stroking your hair.
“Alexia?” you mumble, opening your eyes with difficulty.
“Hi sleepy head”
Her smile is affectionate, and you get up on one elbow to rub your eyes and have a better look at her. Her hairs are down and she seems fine. She seems happy, maybe to see you? The plan was that she takes a taxi with Jana to come back home, Alexia didn’t want you to drive because some noises sometimes make you jump.
“How are you?” Alexia asks softly.
“Can I have a hug?”
She smiles and passes her arms around you to hug you. But you lay on the couch again, taking her with you on it. She giggles and you smile, forgetting for the first time your nightmare.
“I’m glad you’re here” you whisper after some minutes.
“I’m glad to be back to you too.”
You hum, turning a little to pass a lag around her knees and cuddle tighter against her. She’s stroking your back lovingly, sometimes kissing your head. You started to wonder how much mental pressure you are putting on her when she talks again.
“You remember Marta? From the media team?”
“I think I do” you answer, frowning. “Why?”
“She just left for her maternity leave, and she doesn’t know for now if she will come back.”
“Ok?”
You are still frowning when you look at your girlfriend, not understanding where she wants to go. I mean you are happy that people have baby and all. But what does it make a change for you?
It looks like Alexia’s idea was that you apply for the job. You try to escape that idea, not really happy about the idea of meeting tons of people who will know about your story and look at you with pity in their eyes. But Alexia assures you that it won’t happen, adding that you just can go for the interview without saying yes after.
Long story short, you are now sitting on your desk for your first day.
Your job is basically to find idea of activities to anime the games, a little more marketing than journalism to be honest. But it looks fun and like Alexia said before, when Marta will come back, you don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.
********
“Hi, I’d like a meeting with the new media manager?”
A voice in front of you make you raise your head, even if you recognize it immediately. Alexia is smirking at you from the door of your office, looking like she just finishes her shower. Which she probably did given the time.
“I’m sorry, but you have to talk to my assistant first, she will give you my time schedule” you smirk back.
Alexia frown slightly, closing the door behind her before coming for you.
“You have an assistant?”
You know that frown and you roll your eyes while standing up to great her like she deserves it.
“Yes, I have” you answer, letting yourself go against her when she takes you in her arms.
She hums, her lips against your hair, trying to look discreetly in the open office by the window. The gesture makes you chuckle and you raise your head to have a better look at her.
“What? I was just looking to know if you knew her, that’s all.”
“Sure, mi Amor.”
She pouts and you kiss it better, just to see the smile she has right after. You weren’t really happy to start to work again to be honest, but you have to admit that it’s a good thing for you to keep your head busy with something. Alexia was right, once again.
“Are you ready to leave? I’m taking you home.”
“I am.”
You take your stuff with you, before letting Alexia passes her arm around your waist to take you with her. You don’t know if it’s only the jealousy talking right now, but you have to admit that she is way more openly affective with you since your accident. Not that you have a problem with it, obviously. But the way her gaze is scanning the room when you left after saying goodbye to your colleagues, it makes you think that there is at least a little part of jealousy in it.
Which is totally stupid, you only see her.
“You seems happier” Alexia says cautiously over her plate that night.
You look at her for some seconds before nodding. You are, but you are scared to mention it in case that it makes your nightmares coming back.
“I am. Thanks to you” you smile softly.
“Are you really? Or are you hiding something for me like when I was away for the game to Tenerife?”
You blush and almost chock on your tomato, but you somehow are able to keep some dignity. You don’t take the time to try to deny her statement though, you know that she knows. Of course she does. She reads you like an open book. Alexia has the decency to not point anything else, waiting patiently for your answer.
“I really am better. You were right, I really needed to get out from here even if it was difficult at first. It’s great to have something to do, not that cooking for you wasn’t entertaining. But going out… It’s great.”
She nods softly, without leaving your face with her eyes. You know immediately that there is something else in her mind, but you don’t push, letting her carry the conversation.
“Do you think I was too suffocating with you? Maybe if I…”
“No!” you cut her after some seconds of incredulity. “Alexia how could you…? Are you joking? You are the reason that I’m still here and mentally good. You are the reason that I keep fighting to be fine again. I couldn’t have done it without you. I forbid you to think of anything like that.”
“I’m sorry. It’s some insecurities and I shouldn’t have told you that” she frowns again, playing with her forks and some pasta left in her plate.
“Alexia, don’t please.”
She looks at you again when you stand up, just to come sit on her lap. She welcomes you by taking you close against her with her arms. You pass your arms around your neck, one of your fingers playing with the baby hair on her neck.
“You are so perfect to me. I don’t know if I’ll be able to thank you enough one day for it. You were always right and done nothing wrong all those days. A lot of people would have abandoned, but you are still here with me.”
“I’ll never abandon you” she mumbles right into your eyes.
You can see how much she means those worlds and you have to take all your strength not to start crying like a baby. You’re pretty sure that your eyes are shining from tears but you busy yourself by stroking her cheek tenderly.
“You said one time that my come back is a miracle, do you remember? Well, you are my miracle.” you add, after she nods.
She kisses you and the way she did makes your head turned. She only let you breath for several seconds when you need air, before kissing you again with even more intensity. You had sex again after some weeks of rehab from your part, but not like you did before your departure. And it’s hard to see Alexia restrain her gestures, scared as hell to hurt you. Tonight though, you feel like that maybe it will come back.
********
It came back.
You are laying on your bed, lovingly enveloped in your girlfriend’s arms. Her skin is so soft against yours, your face hiding in her neck. You are lull by Alexia’s deep and slow breathing and you are starting to wonder if she’s falling asleep when she talks quietly.
“How are you feeling?”
“Great. Safe. Warm.”
“Perfect” Alexia sighs softly, moving a little to be more comfortable on the mattress.
You look up at her, admiring the shape of her jaw, her perfect nose, her beautiful eyes, and her so kissable lips.
“What?” she asks when she sees you staring.
“Nothing” you giggle. “You’re just so beautiful.”
She rolls her eyes before closing them, tightening you harder against her. You don’t need anything than her body to keep you warm and you love it.
“Would you be angry if I stopped working there?”
The sudden question makes her open her eyes again to look at you. She seems to be thinking for several seconds before answering.
“Of course not. Why do you want to stop anyway? Is someone nasty with you?”
“Not at all” you deny, already imagine her hunting the person who would do that to you. “I was thinking that… maybe I could finish one of my book projects?”
“You mean one of your thousand amazing scenario who are desperately waiting on your computer?”
“Exactly that” you answer, rolling your eyes.
She teases you way to much about it already.
“If it’s what you want, of course I’ll support you. But what about going out to meet people?”
You see the worried already and you answer, kissing her cheek.
“I’ll go write into a Café or something. Maybe seeing people, crowd and streets will help me to get idea.”
********
That’s exactly what you did, after finishing your job with the media. The first days, you weren’t really effective, more focused on what’s going on around you and which story you want to choose. After some debate with yourself and help asking to your mother and Alexia, you choose to mix two stories and start writing again. It made you start from the beginning, but it’s maybe better like this.
You still get to your psychiatrist to your session twice a week, always a little more scared to go without Alexia. Your psychiatrist told both of you that it could be good for you to come without your girlfriend. Alexia accepted immediately, always being interested in everything that can make you feel better.
You always have a strange feeling without Alexia’s halo, and it’s only happened when you come here. You don’t have trouble to go grocery shopping without Alexia or go to the Café to write.
It’s particularly hard to come today, you talked to Alexia by the phone before your appointment to ease your stress. She seems to realize that something is wrong, because she talks a lot about her day. She only does that to change your mind, and you love her for that.
“Hello Y/N” your therapist greats you.
You great her back and start talking about your new occupation, your activities since the last time and the travel Alexia proposed to you last night. It was something you can’t stop to think about since she mentioned it, eager to go away for some days in the sun with the woman you love.
“Don’t you think it will be too soon?” the doctor asks, only looking at her notepad.
You are taken aback. You would never have thought that she can be thinking that it’s a bad idea. She never stops to tell you to go ahead and try new things since the beginning.
“Taking a plane, going to an airport, in a place that might remind you of your trauma? What would you do if you have one of your panic attacks there?”
You don’t know what to answer to that. Alexia mentioned Canary Islands and a private hotel with a private beach, which seems far away from the Middle East.
“No, I mean… I’m going better now. And I’ll be with Ale. Everything will be ok.”
She looks at you this time, raising an eyebrow. Her look is sharp, almost mean and you have trouble swallow your saliva. You feel like a schoolgirl getting bullied by her teacher.
“Don’t you think you already lean too much on the poor girl? Maybe she suggests the holidays to have some rest, are you sure she wants you to go with her?”
You don’t really remember the end of the appointment and you don’t know how you managed to find yourself in the Barcelona’s facilities. You can’t think straight anymore, it’s like this woman knew all your insecurities and tell you that you are right to have them.
What if she’s right? What if Alexia can’t stand your presence, your toxics dreams and mental health? You already knew that you weren’t good enough for her and that she deserved better. You can’t believe that you let her makes you believe that she can love you. How can she? How can anyone?
You were turning around to go home when you hear someone call your name.
“Y/N?”
You recognize Mariona through your tears, but you can’t say anything. She doesn’t seem to mind though, carefully taking your arm in her hand.
“What are you doing here? Are you looking for Alexia?”
You try to scream at her to let Alexia alone and not to get you to her, but you can’t. When you don’t say a word, Mariona decides to take you to Alexia. Luckily the Majorcan woman came late today and she knows exactly where to find your girlfriend.
You let Mariona drags you around, hearing her soothing voice without being able to understand what she’s saying. Sweets, encouraging words, for sur. You can’t figure out really what happens next, but after several minutes of walk, you hear Mariona calling your girlfriend’s name. And more seconds after, you are surrounded by her arms, her perfume, everything that is her.
Everything that you don’t deserve.
When Alexia realizes that she’s facing a wall and that you won’t say a word, she takes you home. You are like anesthetized at this point, letting her do what she wants with you. When you are laying on the bed you retake some reality and stare at Alexia who seems to be choosing clothes to put on you after taking a shower.
“I’m breaking up with you.”
The words were lifeless, but you see Alexia froze. She turns in your direction, with eyes wide and the most chocked face ever.
“What?”
“I’m breaking up with you” you repeat, looking at her straight in her eyes.
A silence pass and you see Alexia watching at you, probably waiting for you to say something else. Maybe to explain yourself, but you don’t say another word. Plus, the reasons are obvious, no?
“Are you- don’t you love me anymore?”
She seems broken. That doesn’t make any sense, she is supposed to be relieved, not sad. You don’t understand her reaction, so you shrug before answering.
“That’s not the point, Alexia. You are free. I’m giving you your liberty back.”
“What the hell are you talking about? Are you drunk? Did someone give you something to you?”
She seems angry now, almost shouting with her eyebrows frown. You frown too, because why the hell won’t she understand? You sit in the bed while she’s still standing in front of you.
“No! I just… Why won’t you…”
Why is your brain suddenly transformed in pudding?
You look at Alexia when she comes to you and takes your face between her hands. She does it with so much care that you want to cry again.
“Why don’t you let me break up with you?” you whisper.
“Because I love you. I told you; I’ll fight for us every day if I have to.”
There we are, you are crying again. But this time Alexia is here, she can take you against her, rock you will you cry and whispers sweets nothing in your ears. She waits for your sobbing to stop, holding you tightly. Only when you can breathe normally again, she speaks.
“What happened?” she asks softly.
You don’t know really where to start, so you just shake your head without answering anything. But she waits, again and again. So, after some minutes, you talk too.
“I just want you to be happy. I know you’ll be happier without me.”
“You are wrong.”
Her voice is gentle, but as the same time strong enough to let you know that you don’t have to try to deny it. It’s her truth and that’s enough.
“Well you need to take some time apart from me so it’s not –“
“Where the hell does that idea comes from?”
She’s lost. You were good when you end up your call some hours later. And then you appeared crying during her training, only to say her when you come home that you want to break up with her. But you frown again, lost too. And tired, to be honest.
“My therapist said that I’m leaning on you too much. And that’s way you wanted to go on holidays without me.”
You explain that like it’s the more logical thing in the world, but for Alexia it doesn’t make any sense. She starts to understand where it comes from however, even if she doesn’t understand why.
“I’m not going anywhere without you, what the point to have holidays if you’re not with me?” she answers, looking right into your eyes. “Did your therapist say other things?”
You nod and start to explain everything happened and everything she told you. The more you talk, the more Alexia seems to be furious. Her jaw is clenched, her eyes are literally throwing lightning and she so tense that you are really concerned that she can have a cramp somewhere. But when she talks to you again, her voice is infinitely soft.
“Nothing of that is true. I love you. I will do everything to help you to make you feel better. I’m not going to give up on you, Y/N. I’m not going to give up on us.”
You look at her, almost desperately. But she has the same gaze that she has when says things like this. Her eyes are soft, caring and so loving that you can’t do otherwise than believe her.
“I don’t feel like I’m better, Ale” you whisper. “I don’t think I will be one day.”
“You are. You are working, you are getting out, you are smiling again. It’s ok to have bad days, like everyone else. Yours are a little more complicated because you had to go through horrible things. But you have the right to not feel good or needing help a little more some days. And what she said was wrong.”
You are lost, honestly. Alexia can see that you are coming back at yourself again though. Like if you are waking up. You seem always a little desperate and she takes you carefully against her. You let her, sighing of relief when you find the comfort of her arms.
“What if she’s right and you haven’t realized for now?”
“She’s wrong. And she will know it.”
You don’t question what she was implying, too tired to realize what her words may imply. You let Alexia taking you in a bath and more generally taking care of you. You look at her through the mirror when she does your hair.
“When I get better, it will be me who will take care of you” you inform her.
She smiles and finish to undo a knot in your hair before answering, looking at you through the mirror too.
“Okay Cariño.”
She’s smiling but doesn’t seem to make fun of you. You relax, letting your shoulder go down a little bit. That’s mean that she really believes that you will be better.
********
Alexia keeps her promise, going to your therapist’s office in the early hours to talk to her. You don’t know what she told her, but now you don’t have to go to your appointments, and you even have a new psychiatrist, advised by someone from Alexia’s staff.
Rumor has it that Alexia’s shouts still resonate in the psychiatrist’s office.
You don’t know if it’s your breakdown of the change of therapist, but some days after this episode, you feel better than ever. You wake up with your head and your body feeling lighter and Alexia is surprised to see you coming in the kitchen when she’s taking her breakfast. Usually, you stay way longer in bed.
“Is everything alright?” she asks nervously.
You nod, rubbing your eyes before coming behind her to pass your arms around her waist.
“Just wanted to be with you a little bit before you leave.”
Alexia hums when you kiss her neck. You can feel a gaze studying you while you are making yourself coffee, before coming to sit next to her.
“Are you sure that you’re ok Cari?” she asks, almost shyly while you stole a strawberry from her bowl.
“I’m sure baby” you smile at her.
Alexia is looking at you suspiciously during several seconds. She red things about people being “high” before getting down and of course she is scared. But you seem really good today and she can’t help but smile when you kiss her cheek.
“Uhu” she said, taping her lips with expectation.
You giggle but kiss her anyway, smiling against her lips. You are still smiling when she strokes your cheek with her fingertips and when she puts her forehead against yours.
“I love you so much” she whispers before kissing you again.
“I love you more” you smiles.
Alexia makes no with her head and put a finger on your mouth when you want to talk again.
 “Would you like to come with me to training today?”
You hesitate for several seconds before answering. It’s been a while since you came to see Alexia in training. You can’t remember who you saw some days before, only Mariona. But you hope that they weren’t a lot.
“You can say no if you don’t want to.” Alexia adds after seeing you hesitate.
“No, I want to come. But… Who were here, the other day? You know…”
“Only Mariona. And I’m sure that she doesn’t say anything to anyone.”
You are relieved to learn that, even if you don’t know how Alexia can know.
“Did you treat her?” you smirk.
“No” Alexia laughs. “I know the girl, she’s one of the most loyal, sweet and discreet that I’ve never met.”
She was right. Mariona didn’t told anyone about what happened and after several minutes you realize that Alexia was right once again. You hug the Mallorcan woman a little longer than Alexia’s other teammates when you met them, silently thanking her. She seems to understand because she smiles at you before taping your cheek affectionately.
And today, as you watch Alexia training and laughing on the pitch with the teammates that she considered like her family, you’re starting to have hope again. Alexia was right every time, so maybe she will be right this time again. You will be better.
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lxnarphase · 1 day
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Please more Hikari and Todo. It's scratching this itch in my brain😩
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IF YOU WANT IT ๋࣭ ⭑
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☾₊‧⁺...lunar's note : AAA yesyes this has been brewing for a while, i am happy to write hakari i love him so sooooo much!! and ive got another ask for a todo fic im workin on so this'll be hakari's piece <33 it a bit short bc ive got a bit of writers block rn bc of finals taking away my creativity, BUT I THINK ITS GOOD
☾₊‧⁺...cw : smut, pre-established relationship, unprotected sex, dirty talk, begging, mentions of creampies, mentions of birth control, reader makes the birth control decision herself not for the man!!! never get on birth control just cause a man says to!!, hakari nearly loses it
☾₊‧⁺...synopsis : you tell your boyfriend that you'd like to try sex with no condom and he can't help but get a little excited
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"you...you what?"
the way you giggle makes him dizzy as you flicked the condom out of his hands with your middle finger and thumb. "you heard me, mr. hakari. no condom, baby girl is on birth control," you said in a singy-song voice. you made the decision a while ago and decided you were going to stick to it. "if you want to use a condom, we can, though, honey," you say, cupping one of his cheeks.
he looked so cute, jaw dropped as he kneels between your thighs, dick hard and twitching. "nonononono, i wanna try, i do, 'm just..." kinji lets out a heavy sigh before he shuffles a little closer. "c-can't believe you lettin' me d'this, cupcake..."
the poor thing, kinji looks so nervous, his eyes wide as he slowly, carefully, starts to push his tip in. if he's going to do this, he needs to commit, but fuck, your pussy was so hot, he feels like he's gonna die-- the moment his tip pops in, he is a goner. his head falls back and his fingers dig into the fat of your hips as a choked groan escapes him.
"hoooohmygod, baby, what the fuck," kinji swears, looking back down. he didn't wanna miss a single second of his cock pushing inside, but the view wasn't doing him any better. "you're so warm...are you always this wet, cupcake? fuck, i didn't know, baby, i didn't know."
you coo at him, how could you not when he already looks so fucked out? his pretty eyes are rolling back and his lip is between his teeth, the glint of his chain with your name on it dangling so pretty on his neck.
he's not moving yet, he's still inside you, so sure that he's going to lose himself inside of you. but then you start talking and he's so screwed because hearing you say such filthy things in that gorgeous, addictive voice of yours is kinji's weakness.
"c'mon, kinjiiii, you just gonna sit there?"
"mmn, poor thing, 's too good? you gonna cum just from puttin' it in?"
"d'aww, kinjiii...pussy made you fucked out already?"
yes. yes it fucking did.
weakly dropping down to his forearms over you, he presses a little kiss against your cheek before pressing his forehead against yours and glaring at you weakly. you know you've got him where you want him.
"doll, you're so cruel to me."
finally, finally, he starts moving and...it feels way too good.
"o-oh. mnn, kinji, shit," you swear, glancing down to where his cock is slowly dragging out of you just to push back in. "fuck, b-baby, you feel s' hot inside me..." the wet noise that fills the air as he slides back in to the hilt causes makes you both hot in the face, it's already getting messy and he hasn't even picked up the pace yet. he coos at you, kissing you once you begin to mewl his name. "i know, baby, i know, 's good, yeah?"
fuck, the sensation of being inside you without any barrier is intoxicating, overwhelming. kinji's pretty eyes fluttered closed for a moment as he allowed himself to feel every detail of your slick walls gripping him.
"talk t' me, angel, how's it feel, huh? c'mon, pretty baby, i wanna know," kinji whines, hips starting to pick up speed as he grows desperate to hear you say how good it feels.
but you don't even get to respond before he hits so fucking deep that you can feel yourself gush. the feeling of your hot, cushy walls hugging him so tightly paired with the pretty little gasp he gets when his sticky tip nudges against something that makes you get impossibly wetter makes him lose his mind.
"y'feel it, right? 's me, 's all me, an' i don't know if i can go back, baby girl, fuck! ohmygodd, you're so wet, so fucking wet for me."
"can i cum inside? you gonna let me fuck you full? hm? please, baby, i'll be so good to ya, let your man stuff you wit' his cum, 's gonna feel so fuckin' good, promise, promise."
"suckin' me in so good, 'm-'m gonna be in this pussy all the fuckin' time. you can handle it, right? gonna be a good girl and get fucked every. fucking. day. by hakari kinji? say it, i wanna hear you say it, cupcake."
"i love you, baby, y'know that right? yeah? yeah, love you s' fuckin' much, 'm gonna marry you and make sure you never have t' go a day without gettin' fucked raw by this cock, 's alllllll for you."
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all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work
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grandlinedreams · 2 days
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|| this man is an exposed live wire in my brain ok
|| notes: uhh prequel to [this] and [this], semi Canon compliant, pre-s1 but mentions of pre-war Cooper, I love the dynamic 😔👌✨️
|| warnings: hopefully IC Cooper, asshole x asshole dynamic we love to see it, weapons/supply dealer!reader, Canon typical violence, mention of blood/reader is injured kinda, spoilers? Abt Cooper's backstory, kinda enemies to friends/lovers
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He doesn't know why he's here.
No, that's a lie ㅡ he does know why he's here, he just doesn't want to admit it. To himself, or to anyone else, for that matter. That he needs help.
Those fancy little bullets for his gun are hard to come by, few and far between when he can't get them by looting and places like Ma June's enjoy extorting as much as they can for so very little.
There's a difference between business transactions and highway robbery, even now. Which is why he's here ㅡ he'd gotten talk about a place that sold weapons and weapon-related supplies at a fair rate, and necessity had made him swallow his pride to go and find out for himself.
Which is why he's not just turning around and fuckin' leaving.
The building is crammed between two others, as ramshackle as the rest being made of recycled tin and wood that's rotted by time and rain in places, but still suggests a stability that won't crumble if somebody breathes too hard on it.
Cooper's spurs jingle as he walks, lost momentarily to the chime of something over his head when he pushes the door open. He looks up, forehead creasing.
Is that a bell?
Rusted but still in working order, it clatters again when he shuts the door, looking around. It's about as put together as any other kind of shop, an eclectic organization to it ㅡ a couple of rifles, a pistol or two, along with an admittedly impressive assortment of knives ㅡ but it's the shine of something on the floor that makes Cooper stop.
His head cocks as he studies the stain, the still-slick shimmer to it that makes him crouch and drag two gloved fingers against it, studying the residue. Coppery, with a hefty dose of some kind of chem to clean it, but still unmistakable ㅡ blood.
Well damn. He doesn't know what's happened here and he's pretty sure he doesn't care to, much beyond the fact that if the runner of this place is dead, that puts a damper on things. Or maybe not ㅡ if nobody's here, what's to stop him from taking what he wants?
"If you're thinkin' of stealing," comes a call that snaps his head up as it echoes from further back in the building, "I'd advise you not to. Less you wanna meet your maker, then I'd be happy to assist."
It's a flat bravado that both amuses him and piques his interest, and he leans against the counter to rap his knuckles. "Not stealin'," he drawls, "just wonderin' what kind of business model you've got if you make customers wait."
"The kind where patience is still a virtue, that's what." Foosteps, unhurried ㅡ and then Cooper is staring at you as you round the corner. You've got a jumpsuit of some indistinguishable color opened to rest around your hips, dingy tank-top underneath ㅡ and a stimpak in your hand. No doubt for the mess of your other arm, bicep wrapped with gauze that's already seeped into a bloom of bright red.
Well now. Cooper wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but you still manage to surprise him. Enough that he's staring, which makes you scowl.
"I know that look," you challenge, "if you think I'm easy picking, you'll get a new place to breathe from, courtesy of the hole I'll put in your head."
Cooper's head cocks. "Well now sugar," he says, "that's not very nice now, is it? Wasn't even thinkin' of that." He turns, jerks a thumb at the half-assed cleaning of the mess on the floor. "That's your doin', I reckon."
You nod. "Don't get trouble much," you say, "but when I do, I make sure to prove a point." You jam the stimpak into your arm, and he watches the tension melt from your shoulders. "Now, what can I do for you besides point out the exit?"
Well damn, Cooper thinks again. You've got a pretty face, but it's at odds with the attitude coming from that nice little mouth of yours. About as welcoming as a rattlesnake and probably just as quick to anger, from the way you bristle as he eyes you.
"Need supplies," he says, and you snort.
"What a wellspring of information you are. What kind of supplies?" You eye him, brow furrowing. "You're a bounty hunter, aren't you? Get your kind in here all the time." You tap a worn boot against the floor, hands now on your hips. "Hope you got means to pay for shit, because I don't do tab and I sure as fuck don't do charity work."
Cooper isn't sure if he likes you or he hates you. Bit of both, he guesses. The like is tentative and the hate is more solid ground, because he hates just about everybody. Makes it easier to do what needs to be done.
"Well, sweetheart," he leans into the counter, tips his hat, "depends on what you got to show me that's worth buyin'."
You stare, unimpressed by whatever angle he's going for. He's handsome, you'll give him that ㅡ but not much else. He also reminds you of somebody, with that hat of his and the way he talks ㅡ the low, drawn out drawl that you've only seen in those movies you manage to scrounge up here and there for your amusement.
Rolling your eyes, you hold up a finger and shrug your arms back into the jumpsuit, though you don't bother to zip it up. "Gimme a sec."
You don't know why you're doing this. Entertaining the notion that if you show him good enough product, he'll become a regular. You like regulars, but most of what you get seem to run on about six months worth of visits and then vanish.
Probably dead. Such is the way of the world, and it's still enough to get by. But you like new faces.
To his credit, he doesn't flinch when you slap the first pack onto the counter, followed by a second, and then a third.
"This is baseline stuff," you explain. "Your usual grade of bullet. Black powder, the standard kick." You shove the first pack at him, let him inspect the bullets. "Then you've got these."
The second pack shoved over, thin fabric parted so he can eye the neat little row of what would be hollow-point bullets if they didn't end with a tiny, pointed bulb of red glass.
"Explosive rounds." Your expression is unreadable. "They do the job, but they need special packing. Unless you wanna be blown up before the damn things even get loaded into the gun."
Cooper hums, eyes the bullet he holds up, the barely there shift of powder in the glass. He watches as you push the third over. "And these?"
"Same, but they pack even more of a punch. I'd recommend only shooting them at shit you want up in smoke." You shrug. "Or people, deathclaws, whatever the fuck you do out there."
Cooper studies you. "Where did you get this stuff? Thought bullets were hard to come by."
You give him a flat look of annoyance. "I make 'em myself."
Cooper stares, then smirks. Another little tip to his head. "Really now," he says, watches you bristle like a viper, ready to strike. Wonders if those fangs of yours pack a punch, what he'd need to do to get you to spit at him. "How 'bout you show me, darlin'? Wanna make sure what I buy is good quality."
You should tell him to shove it. Tell him to get the absolute fuck out of your shop, take his fuckin' yeehaw personality to someone else in the mood to deal with it ㅡ but you don't.
Instead, you sigh and tug the packages back, moving away from the counter. "Well c'mon then," you prompt, irritated. "Don't have all goddamn day."
The back of your shop is half a home and half a workshop, sprawled mess of equipment rusted with time but otherwise well maintained, smell of grease and hot metal and gunpowder that clings to everything.
You don't have to look back to know he's followed you, the jingle of his spurs as he takes his time, eyes missing nothing. The boxes of empty casings and empty glass bulbs ㅡ and the Mister Handy that's slumped in the corner, sparks spitting from it.
"Poor thing got shot first with that...situation earlier." Your voice is quiet. "Gotta fix 'im if I can."
Kind of funny, you sound sadder about the damn machine than the fact you'd killed someone over it. Then again, they'd been trying to kill you, so...eh. Justified, in your book.
The rest of the room is a haphazard attempt at something like a house ㅡ a couch with blankets on it, a short stack of books gone yellow at the edges, a coffee table ㅡ and sitting on it is a shitty little television, staticy and without color ㅡ but that doesn't matter. What matters to Cooper is that he knows what it's playing.
Your flitting around fades a little as he watches himself on screen ㅡ forever ago, a lifetime ago. Before the bombs, before vault-tec ㅡ when he'd been happy.
He'd loved his life, his family ㅡ and they'd loved him too.
"I've got enough stuff to make another round of flash-baㅡ" You stop, blinking at the way he's staring at the television. "Somethin' wrong? I know this isn't much, but it's my way of living, soㅡ"
"Stop your yappin'," Cooper rasps, and you glare as he shakes himself out of whatever reverie he was lost in. You scowl.
"Look, I know this doesn't seem like much of anything, but this is my business, and my shop." Your eyes narrow. "So try to be a little fuckin' nicer if you want me to sell you anything."
Whatever patience he'd had left promptly snaps like a bowstring as he snatches your arm, grips it tighter than he should. "Listen, sweetheart," he hisses, "what exactly is stopping me from just takin' what I want and leaving?"
Something whirrs behind him, distracts him just enough for the cool, sharp kiss of metal at his throat.
"Do it," you taunt, expression unreadable, grip tight on the blade you hold to his neck. "You're not the first one to try, and you won't be the last."
And there, Cooper notes, are your fangs, ready to sink into his skin. The two of you stare at each other for a good, long minute while the Mister Handy spits and sputters. And then Cooper huffs something like a laugh. "Glad to see you've got some bite to you, darlin', but I still think I could handle you."
A threat and something a little less hostile all in one, even as you yank your arm out of his grasp. "You couldn't handle me even if I came with a fuckin' manual," you snap back, but there's a playful gleam to your eyes. "You gonna buy anything or just lookin' to be a pain in my ass?"
A crooked grin tugs at Cooper's mouth. "Both."
The truce between the two of you is tentative. An understanding in the barest sense, because neither of you are dumb enough to pass up a lucrative, beneficial deal. He gets his supplies, you get caps. Simple.
You won't go as far as to say you're even friends, up until the point that you greet him on a visit with, "You know, you remind me of somebody."
He eyes you. "Really now. And who would that be, sweetheart? You workin' with more ghouls than just me?"
You snort. "Careful," you tease, "you almost sound jealous." Your tone quiets as you drum your fingers on the counter. "Nah, you remind me of that one actor, Cooper Howard."
Cooper stills. Watches you warily, turning a spent bullet casing over and over between gloved fingers.
"He played a cowboy," you say, nodding to yourself. "Talked like you do, too. Good movies, at least the ones I've gotten my hands on." You eye him, playful light to your eyes. "Wouldn't happen to be a fan of him too, would you?"
Cooper debates. He's not sure if you've put the pieces together and if you have, you're polite enough not to say it. He appreciates that, makes that fleeting temptation of putting a bullet in your head all the more temporary. He likes you. Be a shame if he had to cut ties.
"No," he answers. "I can safely say he and I are nothin' alike." Not anymore. He lets himself lean over the counter, too close to your face. Intimidation, maybe, or perhaps just because he likes being able to look at you like this. "Got anythin' else to tell me?"
Your eyes flick over his face, down to his lips as you lean a little closer, the suggestion of your mouth just shy of his. "Yeah," you murmur, quiet. "Next time you come by, work on your fuckin' manners."
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morgana-larkin · 3 days
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Ok, as requested, ending to yesterday’s fic, The Vendor, The Teacher and The Roses. And I would also like to thank everyone for putting up and liking my crazy fics, last night I hit 100 followers and I was surprised. 🫶🏻
I love dancing to music, it helps my brain relax and process thoughts, so you’ll likely see it pop up in my fics here and there. Ok, I’ll stop talking cause I know there was people who were wanting to know the ending. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!
The Vendor, The Teacher and The Roses - Ending
Warnings: like one swear word, Mel singing and dancing 😍
Words: 1.14
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She knows if she goes left to her place then that means she’s choosing Gary, and if she goes right that means she’s choosing you.
She then takes a few deep breaths and closes her eyes. She thinks about it for a good minute, weighing the pros and cons, she then turns her brain off and lets her heart decide. Then she opens her eyes again when she made her decision. She flicks the stick to put on her turn signal and turns.
Melisss is wondering the entire ride if she made the right decision. Should she have turned the other way or did she turn the right way? She drives the car in the driveway and gets out. She closes the door and locks the car then walks to the door, keys in hand. Once she gets to the door, she knocks on it and you open the door a few seconds later. She takes a look at you and sees you’ve been crying and her heart breaks a bit.
“Melissa?” you say quietly and she looks at you with a small smile
“Hi hon.” She says.
“Do I even want to know how you got into the building?” You ask her and her smile grew a bit.
“Someone who lives here was entering the same time I was and they let me in.” She says and you nod your head.
“What are you doing here?” You ask her.
“I saw your card, and the flowers.” She tells you and you widen your eyes.
“Melissa, you don’t have to say anything ok. It was a stupid idea and I know you’re with Gary and you love each other ok. I saw when you told each other.” You tell her and she thinks that that explains why the trash can was on the floor and why the flowers were thrown out right outside the break room.
“Y/n, why didn’t you tell me about your feelings before?” She asks and you look at your feet.
“Cause I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, because I value it so much. But then I saw you got mad from Gary ignoring you all day so I decided to go for it.” You tell her and she sighs.
“I should have realised it but I guess I was so blind.” She says and you look at her.
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then?” You tell her and she looks at you confused.
“Are you saying you want me to leave?” She asks and you tilt your head.
“Well the reason you came here, was it not to ask the questions you asked me already?”
“No, well, not the main reason.” She says. “I have feelings for you too. And I have feelings for Gary as well. When I got in my car I could have gone home or I could have come to see you. And I chose you.” She tells you and you step aside to let her in your apartment. She walks in and you both go sit on the couch.
“You have feelings for me?” You ask and she nods. “Well why didn’t you say anything?” You ask her and she looks at her lap.
“Well like you said, I’m with Gary. I thought my feelings for you might go away if I ignore them but they only grew.”
“What do you mean when you said you chose me?” You ask her.
“I mean if I went home then I would be choosing Gary, and I know I would lose you. If I came here then I would be choosing you and lose Gary.” She tells you. “And I can’t lose you.” She adds on and you look at her shocked.
“But you can lose Gary?” You ask her and she nods.
“He’s not as important as you.” She tells you and you look down at your fingers and twiddle your thumbs. Melissa takes your hand with hers and interlace your fingers and brings her other hand to your chin and gets you to look up at her. “I want to be with you.” She tells you and a tear rolls down your cheek. She wipes the tear and cups your cheek.
“I want to be with you too.” You tell her and you lean forward to kiss her but she puts a hand to your lips to stop you and you open your eyes and look at her confused.
“Believe me, I want to kiss you badly too. But I need to break up with Gary first, I’ll do it tomorrow after school.” She says and you nod.
“Sorry, I got excited.” You say and blush.
“Hey don’t be sorry, like I said, I really want to kiss you too, but I’m not a cheater.” She said and you nod.
“Can we at least hug?” You ask and she giggles. She nods and holds her arms out, and you lean in and put your arms around her. You two stay in the hug for a few minutes.
You then open your eyes when Melissa starts humming a song and you pull away to look at her. “I found myself dreaming in silver and gold, like a scene from a movie that every broken heart knows.” She starts singing and stands up and pulls you with her, she starts walking to the middle of the living room. “We were walking on moonlight, and you pulled me close.” She continues and pulls you close to her then continues it and looks in your eyes. “Split second and you disappeared and then I was all alone.” She starts swaying with you slowly. “I woke up in tears, with you by my side, a breath of relief and I realised.” She says and stops swaying to look at you. “No, we’re not promised tomorrow.” and she starts dancing with you as you both sing the chorus.
“So I’m gonna love you like I’m gonna lose you, I’m gonna hold you like I’m saying goodbye, wherever we’re standing, I won’t take you for granted, cause we’ll never know when, when we’ll run out of time, so I’m gonna love you like I’m gonna lose you, I’m gonna love you like I’m gonna lose you.” You end the dancing and singing and look at each other then put your foreheads together. She then pulls away and kisses your forehead.
“Do you want to come over to my place after I break up with Gary? I might need a kiss then.” She tells you and places a lock of hair behind your ear and you nod. She smiles at you then pulls away and leaves your place to go to her house.
You take a deep breath. What the fuck just happened? You think and you have a smile on your face for the rest of the evening.
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