#they know what they have to do to get us to watch their show
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𝝑𝑒 synopsis. tired of the continuous bullying you’re receiving from the other concubines, you finally decide to stand up for yourself. the tension dulls when lord sukuna breaks the fight up.
tags. true form!ryomen sukuna x concubine!reader. sfw - angst kinda, little suggestive. mentions of bullying. violence. fighting. vile language. reader gets referred to as a ‘bitch, slut, whore’ by the concubines. reader gets referred to as ‘brat, woman’ by sukuna. not beta read bcs im sleepy. @ohimsummer, thank you for the idea LOL
you’re tired. tired of being treated like less by the others in sukuna’s harem. they’re salty—jealous—because of the shameless favoritism sukuna shows. you’re his favorite, the one he can’t seem to get enough of.
that’s exactly why you’re on the floor right now. you’ve fallen to your knees after tripping over a concubine’s foot. you were passing by to go to your headquarters, though apparently such a mundane thing can’t happen in this place without some woman interfering in the worst way possible.
“oops,” the blonde one laughs as she sees you on the wooden floor. you’re covered in food and some. . . gooey beverage. you don’t know what it is, but it’s making everything feel uncomfortably sticky. your clothes, your fingers, your skin. it’s starting to itch.
“should’ve looked where you were going,” another girl chimes in. the brunette. she feigns pity and throws a handkerchief in your face, causing the other concubines to giggle. there are three of them in total. they always stick together to bully you.
the one with green eyes speaks up as well, “now now, don’t be so harsh to the poor slut! she’s got no brain to use after all.”
the other two laugh as you try your best to stay calm. you’re always telling yourself to be the bigger person in difficult situations. you’re clenching your hands into fists, your body basically trembling in anger. you want to swing. to show them that you’re worthy of respect.
“aww, she’s gonna cry,” the blonde one pouts—a mocking pout that gets on your nerves. the laughs sounding from the trio are like nails on a chalkboard. you want to make it stop. you’re tired of keeping it civil, when they have never tried doing the same.
your eyes land on the serving tray next to your hands. the one they emptied on your head ‘by accident’. you take a deep breath and try to remind yourself that it’s probably best to go wash up. they desperately want a reaction out of you and you refuse to give it to them.
despite it all, you’re mad. you’ve gone through enough of this. all because of sukuna’s favoritsm. all because you’re you.
they’re salty that they can never be you. you’ve seen their pathetic attempts to put you down yet simultaneously try and copy your entire existence. thinking that would somehow get them in your position as sukuna’s favorite.
you’re sick and tired of it. today’s the day you show them exactly that. you’re going to show those women that you can and will beat some sense into them.
“oy, dumb slut, answ—” the blonde is interupted before she could finish her sentence. a loud bang reverberates through the hallway and everyone falls silent.
she’s the one on the floor now instead of you. you’re up, the wooden tray in your hands, the one you just used to smack the life out of her. she’s whimpering and holding her red cheek. a nasty bruise is sure to form on her skin; deserved.
“i’ll answer you, alright,” you mumble under your breath. you’re panting as the adrenaline keeps pumping. you stand over her and lift up the serving platter in the air once more—bringing it down over and over against her head, which she’s trying to shield with her hands.
the other two concubines are frozen in pure shock. you’re not thinking anymore. you’re on autopilot. the woman’s yelps and screeches are music to your ears. “hah. you sound as ugly as you look,” you spit on her, watching the blood trickle down the corner of her mouth. you lift your arms up to bring the wooden platter down on her body again, but you’re stopped.
the green eyed concubine had moved first. she grabs your wrists with one hand and smacks you across the face with the other. “have you lost your mind?!” she yells and raises her hand to slap you again. the disrespect you’re showing clearly was not expected nor is it welcomed.
“don’t you fucking touch me,” you kiss your teeth. you’re glaring at her with pure hatred. you push and slap her right back. you’re sure the blonde won’t be up for a while now—she’s done for.
you don’t know if you went a bit overboard with it, considering she’s barely conscious anymore, but you couldn’t care less at the moment.
you’re surprised when the third concubine yanks your hair. “oh, you little bitch!” the brunette grabs a bunch of your hair with both hands and tugs at it to drag you down on the floor. you wince in pain but quickly pull at her own brown locks. you struggle to keep your balance and your scalp aches.
you hate it when women go for your hair when fighting, though luckily you know your way out of it. you take a deep breath and bring her head down, lifting your left leg up at the same time. her forehead comes crashing down on your knee and she loosens her grip on your hair.
“disgusting,” you huff and take the opportunity to push her fragile body aside, making her trip over the blonde girl on the floor. you can’t help but think that your current state is quite similar to a certain someone.
the violence. the seething anger. you’ve seen this scene way too many times before. you’ve learnt it from him.
your thoughts are interrupted by someone pulling the back of your hair, causing you to stumble backwards. “a whore like you needs to be taught some manners,” the green eyed concubine sniffs and keeps a tight grip on your hair. she delivers a few punches to your face, which you actually struggle to block for a second.
the force hitting your nose makes it bleed. that only angers you further. you gather some saliva in your mouth before spitting it out right in the girl’s eyes. you take your chance and grab her hair, smashing her head against the nearby fusuma. the thin plaster the sliding doors are made out of breaks, and she falls right through into the other room.
“i think you all need to be taught how to act,” you pant and wipe the blood dripping down your chin with the back of your hand. you walk through the opening you made in the frail door, kicking the concubine right in the face as revenge for the nosebleed she gave you.
you crouch down, your fingers tangling into her hair. you yank her head up and stare her right in the eyes. there’s an eerie, dark look in yours. “why can’t you just accept that you’re nothing but trash in your lord’s eyes?” you sneer. you are pitying them instead of the other way around, like how it usually would be.
and they despise it.
“you fucking—” “bitch? slut? whore?” you finish her sentence for her with an exasperated sigh. you’ve heard those insults a thousand times before. it’s nothing new. it’s always the same nasty and repetitive comments. you slap the concubine in front of you again for good measure before standing up, “you should come up with something new. it’s getting boring.”
you walk over to the other two, who are still recovering. you add to your last comment with a shrug, trying to hit them where it hurts, “your repetitiveness explains why lord sukuna rarely calls for you at night. i bet your severe lack of creativity shows even in bed.”
“you’re just a boring and hopeless bunch,” you’re out for blood. the blonde and brunette are looking up at you with fear and the sight excites you for some reason. they’re crawling away, trying to go find someone who would save them. the servants are nowhere to be found. nor is uraume, who usually stops the petty arguments.
they’re terrified by how you’re acting right now. they’re clearly seeing sukuna in you. in your eyes and the aura you’re emitting.
you’re mirroring him, his merciless personality and all included. he’s subconsciously taking over your mind and it’s terrifying them.
your steps are heavy as you walk towards the concubines. you don’t pay attention to the blood trickling down your chin, nor do you care about the ache in your scalp from the earlier hair pulling. all you care about is getting revenge for yourself.
you could complain to sukuna and have him punish them in your place, but that wouldn’t be enough. you’re going to make sure that they don’t try you again any time soon. you grab the blonde by her arm, lifting your fist to punch her—
“oi, brat.”
your eyes widen and you snap out of your mad daze. sukuna’s voice shakes the floors with how loud it is. you whip your head to the side and see his tall figure standing at the end of the hallway—uraume being right behind him. it looks like they were the one that rushed to inform sukuna of the ruckus.
you drop the other concubine and look at the mess. the broken fusuma. the blood splatter on the wooden flooring. your disheveled hair and clothes. your bleeding nose. the crimson stained plate and spilt food that got everywhere.
it’s a complete mess.
sukuna doesn’t utter a word. he just glares right at you. you’re not sure if it’s because of your irresponsible behaviour or the mess you created. or both. he marches over to you and grabs you by the back of your collar with one big hand.
“m-my lord,” you whimper, nearly choking as you’re held up in the air like you weigh nothing, like one would do to a cat’s nape. one of sukuna’s hands keeps you up whilst the others hang limply by his side. his red eyes scan your body, moving up and then back down.
you don’t know what to say. you surely have overstepped a boundary - or multiple - with what you’ve done today. you’ve disturbed the peace in the estate and have caused damage to sukuna’s property. both to his women and the interior of his palace.
you cough up a bit of blood that was stuck in the back of your throat. you’re uncertain of how you should explain yourself. “i’m sorry, my lord. i didn’t know what came over me,” you apologise and look down at the floor below your feet. you’re too embarrassed to look the king of curses in the eyes.
sukuna stays silent. it’s nerve wracking since you have no idea what he’ll do in response to your outburst. his facial expression is blank, so you aren’t able to guess what’s going on in his head. it’s a complete mystery.
however, the tall man is secretly more amused than anything. what you’ve just done, is one of the most interesting things he has seen a human do. sukuna witnessed everything from the beginning to the end and thoroughly enjoyed it. from the way you used that serving plate as a weapon to the way you managed to get out of those concubines’ grasps each time.
it’s strange to sukuna; he felt something when he saw you in action like that.
pride? perhaps that’s it. sukuna can’t pinpoint the exact emotion, though if he were to describe it, the closest word would be indeed pride. he is proud to have discovered and witnessed that untamed side of yours. you’re always full of pleasant surprises that keep even a dangerous curse like him on his toes.
it’s why he will never get bored of you. he wishes to unleash your full potential one day.
sukuna finally breaks the silence with an amused snicker. one of his hands move to wipe the blood from your nose. you cringe when he slowly licks the red liquid from his fingers afterwards—clearly ravishing the metallic taste.
“y’ finally did something, huh?” sukuna grins wickedly. he knows of the harassment you’ve been going through and he couldn’t wait to see you snap like this one day.
it’s sickening that he allows the bullying to continue just for the sake of creating drama, but it’s also worth it to him, since he’s got to unlock a side of you he knew you had buried deep inside. sukuna is a selfish bastard. you know that much, yet you like it when he looks at you with a prideful gaze and grin.
it’s so obvious that sukuna took pleasure in what he’s witnessed. he couldn’t believe how much you actually resembled him in a way.
if he were to be honest: it turned him on like crazy. seeing how you fought back against those women and how nearly deranged you became. the degrading words you spewed. . . sukuna cannot get enough of it. if it were up to him, he’d have let you continue. but for your own sake, he decided against it.
as much as he loves that untamed side of yours, sukuna knew that he couldn’t let you go too far. not because he wants to defend those other women, but because he still needs you to stay sane. going down that path of violence surely will do you more damage than good.
he’ll fully corrupt you - your body and mind - one day. just not today.
sukuna lets you back on your feet after you nearly fail to breathe. he cocks his head to the side, still having a menacing smirk on his face. he roughly pinches your cheek, “it was entertaining, i’ll give you that, woman.”
you wince as sukuna pinches the exact cheek you had a bruise on. he’s never done so before, therefore you don’t have a clue about the meaning behind that gesture. though the compliment told you that he was pleased by the ruckus more than he was annoyed by it.
sukuna still hasn’t bat an eye to the other concubines. they are waiting for their lord to punish you for hurting them, but it all seems to be in vain. they know better than to speak up about that to him. they’re easily replaceable. they know that by now. it’s as clear as day.
you’ve drilled that into their head today.
the king of curses pushes your small body towards uraume and you nearly bump against their chest with how easily he moved you around. uraume catches you in time and helps you stand straight, awaiting their master’s orders.
sukuna checks you out one more time in that disheveled state, before you go back to your formal and reserved self. his interest in you has been piqued by today’s events and he wonders when he can experience that side of yours again. he nods at uraume, “make sure she’s properly taken care of.”
uraume doesn’t waste a single second after being given an order. “understood,” they reply curtly and keep you steady so you could walk with them towards the physician’s quarters.
you look up at sukuna, trying to catch a glimpse of him before you’re taken away. he’s staring right back at you, the corners of his lips twitching into another subtle grin. he’s surprisingly pleased and content with your actions.
however it’s also not so surprising, considering that he loves it when you show any hint of resistance or stubbornness. whether it’d be to him or to his concubines.
sukuna’s facial expression turns cold the moment you’re gone and he’s left with the mess. “she took the words right out of my mouth,” he stares down at the three women on the floor who’re still unable to stand. he’s not helping them up—that’s their own problem, “y’re a pathetic bunch.”
the concubines flinch as they hear the inevitable from their own lord. hearing it from you was frustrating, but hearing it directly from the man that’s taken them in is heartbreaking. they don’t dare look up at him in such pitiful states.
“all three of you,” sukuna addresses them sharply. his arms cross over his chest, a ruthless tone to his voice. the concubines tremble in his presence, though it’s partially still because of the fear you’ve implemented in their systems.
he would’ve killed them off right then and there, though you’ve done enough damage to them both physically and mentally for now.
sukuna however, still couldn’t care less about their wellbeing. their wounds and bruises are something they’ll need to fix on their own.
he points at the floor and broken door with his head before turning around to leave the miserable trio. sukuna leaves them with an order that’s usually left to the servants;
“clean up the damn mess you caused. it better be taken care of before i return. ‘nd i don’t wanna hear a single squeak from any of you about this.”
#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader#sukuna x reader#jjk x you#sukuna x you#jjk x y/n#sukuna x y/n#ryomen sukuna x reader#jjk angst#sukuna angst#bye this is also a crack fic to me
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NSFW Alphabet - Aventurine
In lieu of the handsome gambler coming home, have some Aventurine smut.
I’m so sappy for this man, ugh.
Aventurine x fem!Reader
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
For the first while, the one doing majority of the aftercare would have to be you. Aventurine has had plenty of one-night stands where the other person got what they wanted from him and then left without engaging in any form of aftercare. He’s used to sex being transactional, a tool he used to win people over.
As such, Aventurine feels lost when it comes to providing aftercare for you since it’s not something he has experienced before. At first, it feels strange to him when you offer to get him water, massage his sore muscles, or cuddle with him right after sex. It felt strange, yet he found himself enjoying the moments when you allowed him to rest his head on your chest, feeling your fingers run through his hair as you chatted about various things.
Aventurine slowly warms up to the idea of receiving this type of treatment after sex, and once he becomes accustomed to it, will return the favor. He’s fond of giving you massages and kisses and joining you in the bath for some extra cuddles. He’s also very likely to order you a delicious meal to replenish your energy or spend the rest of the night lazing in bed with you until you both fall asleep.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
I know that this is supposed to be sexy and erotic and whatnot, but if I had to be honest, I would say Aventurine likes his eyes. As much scorn and discrimination as his eyes have brought him, they are his last remaining link to his family and people, and I think he treasures that. Plus, he likes it when you compliment his eyes and say they’re pretty. It makes him feel a bit better about his Avgin heritage.
On you, Aventurine likes your hands. He really likes how you gently caress him, be it in or out of the bedroom. From the way you hold his hand in yours, to the way you cup his cheek or trace your fingers along his body, he loves it all. He feels treasured under your touch, as if he were something precious to you, something irreplaceable. It makes him feel a complicated type of way, but he still seeks out that touch.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Is possessive, so he likes to cum inside and then watch his semen drip out of you. It’s a form of staking his claim on you. However, he’s perfectly happy to cum on your chest or face or wherever else you tell him to, though preferably in or on your body. Aventurine is also content to have your juices smeared all over his face from eating you out. Something about feeling how wet you are turns him on immensely.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Aventurine memorized your undergarment sizes and has spent a pretty penny buying you all kinds of fancy and risqué lingerie from expensive brands. He got you a few matching sets of high-quality lingerie among several costumes, such as a bunny girl suit, a maid dress, and a nurse outfit, to name a few.
He’s planning to give some of them to you as a gift on special occasions in the hopes of getting you to try them on and give him a little show. He loves seeing you dress up for him, and thinks it would be a fun way to spice up your sex life.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
He’s pretty experienced. Aventurine has had a few partners in the past, though they were strictly one-night stands with no feelings attached. It was more of a means to an end for him to relieve stress or win over the person for a deal. He basically used his partner and got used in return, and although some of these encounters were fun, they always left Aventurine unfulfilled.
It wasn’t until he met you and engaged in real lovemaking that he finally understood what was so amazing about sex (more on this in the intimacy section).
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Aventurine is pretty versatile, and his favorite positions change depending on what he’s in the mood for.
If he’s in the mood for something rougher, then he defaults to taking you from behind. He presses his hand on your upper back, pushing you face-down into the bed with your ass up in the air for him. He’s also fond of taking you against the wall with one of your legs hooked around his hip for a deeper penetration.
If he feels like letting you take the lead, he’ll lay back and let you do as you please. You want to pin him down or ride him in cowgirl? Go for it, he’s game. Use him however you want. That said, expect him to be a bit of a brat by challenging your authority with the smuggest of grins on his face. You have to earn his submission.
During moments of sweet and tender lovemaking, Aventurine prefers missionary or lotus. These positions are perfect for exchanging kisses and holding hands, and the eye contact between you feels more intimate which heightens the experience for him. He loves being as close to you as possible, your bodies pressed flush together as your hips move in sync, so expect him to keep his arms wrapped around you for as long as possible.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Aventurine is both serious and humorous. He definitely verbally teases and taunts you because he wants to get a reaction out of you, especially in the early stages of your sex life. It’s also a mask he employs to hide his own nervousness and vulnerability. However, he’s still considerate and respectful of your boundaries and feelings, and he takes the time to discuss these things with you in a serious manner.
While he’s usually very teasing and playful during sex, Aventurine has his serious moments. Those usually come up during tender lovemaking since it’s a more emotionally charged experience that leaves him feeling vulnerable. Genuine words of affection from you go a long way during those moments, and Aventurine might even return them in kind if your relationship has progressed deep enough.
Once he’s past the stage of slowly opening up and has become comfortable being vulnerable with you, Aventurine will act more playful and teasing again. Unlike at the start, this time he doesn’t tease you to mask his true feelings, but as a way to engage in some playful banter and watch your cheeks flush because he finds you super cute when you’re embarrassed.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Just look at Aventurine and tell me he doesn’t groom himself all over. He definitely keeps his pubic hair neatly trimmed so it looks tidy. It’s also the same blond color as the hair on his head.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
He's had sexual partners before, but there were no feelings involved, so the sex left Aventurine feeling unfulfilled. It felt good, sure, but it still didn't fill the void in his heart, and he was left empty. Sex with you feels completely different, though. You're devoted to his pleasure, you treat him with love and consideration, and he can feel how much you love him through your touch and words.
There is also something so fulfilling and joyous about making you feel good, of knowing that he is the cause for those moans and blissful expressions of yours. Sex with someone he loves is a completely different experience because it's more emotionally charged, and though it makes him vulnerable, he feels more connected to you. He loves that emotional connection even more than the physical one, and it also makes him realize that there's so much more to sex than simply reaching orgasm.
Getting Aventurine to lower his guard and allow himself to be vulnerable during sex is something that will take time, but once he learns to embrace the experience, he’ll be very romantic when making love to you.
As mentioned before, Aventurine likes to keep as much physical contact with you as possible, so he’ll hold you tight against his body while rocking his hips into you. He also enjoys holding hands, especially when close to orgasm.
He’s a very sensual lover, so he runs his hands along your sides or spine, leaves hot kisses on your jawline and neck, and whispers romantic words about how he loves you or how you’re being such a good girl for him. Feel free to do the same to him in return, he loves feeling your loving touch.
Even when he’s being rough, he’s still loving toward you so you’re never left feeling like he’s just using you to get off. He wants you to be comfortable being this intimate and vulnerable with him, plus he loves giving affection.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Aventurine accumulates a lot of stress from work, so I think he masturbates fairly regularly. He usually does it in the comfort of his own home when he has some downtime.
With your consent, he uses some lewd pictures and videos of you to jack off to, or he uses his imagination, recounting his favorite moments from your past sessions. He also pictures you in various risqué outfits or imagines what it would be like to try new kinks with you.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
He's a switch but tends to take on a more dominant role because he likes having some for of control over a situation, be it in or out of the bedroom. He's quite adept at giving you commands and suggestions, such as watching you masturbate and giving you directions on how to play with yourself. Aventurine is also into mutual masturbation, with either both of you watching each other get off, or using your hands to please the other.
He's into dirty talk, but mostly giving. From you, he likes to receive praise on how good he makes you feel. He also enjoys hearing you beg and describe in as much detail as you can what exactly you want him to do to you. If the task embarrasses you, that's even better because he finds you incredibly cute when you're blushing.
Other things he likes is edging and overstimulation (giving and receiving), mild exhibitionism (see Location below), videotaping/photographing your body or your sex sessions (with your consent, of course), and mild choking (mostly receiving, but can also give).
Aventurine can handle and enjoy rougher treatment from you, but he loves it most when you worship his body. Your loving and gentle touches feel so good, and honestly, he needs the pampering. Bonus points if you compliment his body, be it his looks or physique.
I also feel like he's into footjobs and boobjobs, and getting you to go commando or with a vibrator stuffed in your pussy in public (but only if you're into that).
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Generally prefers to have sex somewhere comfortable and private, so the ideal place is usually your home. The kitchen, bathroom, living room, etc are all fair game because Aventurine is not very picky about the location, though he does have a preference for the comfort of a soft bed or couch.
If exhibitionism is something you’re into, Aventurine can also fuck you in riskier places like a public bathroom or near an open window, though he won’t let either of you get caught.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Seeing you in his clothes is a surefire way to get Aventurine in the mood. His shirts are too long for you, so he finds it cute how the sleeves cover your hands, and how the neckline dips lower to show off your cleavage. Bonus points if one of your shoulders is exposed. He finds the sight incredibly erotic and endearing.
Aventurine also likes seeing you dress up for him, be it pretty dresses and nicely done hair or perfectly applied makeup. The idea of you dolling yourself up for him just to have your neat appearance ruined by the end of the night arouses him. As does the idea of seeing those painted lips of yours leave lipstick marks on his cock while you suck him off.
Aventurine can get easily turned on if one of your make-outs turns hot and heavy. Feeling the desire and passion behind your kisses can get him aroused pretty quickly, and he’ll try to turn you on in response by deepening the kiss or sucking on a few sensitive spots on your neck he knows make you weak in the knees.
He also loves it when you tease him, especially sexually. If you give him fleeting touches against his clothed dick, press hot kisses along his throat, or tug on his lower lip with your teeth, he'll easily get worked up. Giving him a fleeting taste of pleasure before pulling away, leaving him yearning for more all day will drive him wild and he'll follow after you like a puppy. Expect to be teased into oblivion in return once he gets his hands on you.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
As a man with a truckload of trauma, there are certain kinks Aventurine isn’t comfortable participating in, or some that he flat-out rejects.
He’s not into roleplaying scenarios where one of you is subservient to the other, so things like slave play or petplay get a hard no from Aventurine. He also doesn’t like calling you mistress due to the time he was forced to call his enslaver ‘Master’.
While he’s ok with some light bondage like having you pin his wrists down with your hands, he gets uncomfortable if handcuffs or rope is involved because it conjures up bad memories from when he used to be restrained like that as a slave. For the same reason, he’s not into wearing collars or collaring you.
While he can handle some rough play like choking, spanking, and biting, he doesn’t like being heavily hit, because again, it triggers bad memories for him. He doesn’t like being injured or causing you injury. He also doesn’t enjoy demeaning dirty talk that treats you or himself as something lesser or as an object.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
His silver tongue is good for more than just talking. Aventurine enjoys giving oral because watching you writhe and fall apart under his mouth is a huge ego boost. He loves to play with and tease your pussy, memorizing all the motions that get the best reactions out of you or any directions you give him to please you right. He becomes an expert at eating you out.
Aventurine gets a deep satisfaction out of pleasing you, and it definitely gets him hard to hear your moans and watch you squirm because he’s making you feel good.
However, I think he prefers receiving just a teensy bit more. Just a smidge. Having you between his legs, eagerly sucking his cock while maintaining eye contact with him is just heaven. There’s something so nice about being lavished with your love and attention, of seeing and feeling how devoted you are to making him feel good. It makes him feel appreciated and desired, which is a huge turn-on.
That said, Aventurine really likes 69ing because that way you both get to give and receive pleasure at the same time, which is a win-win. Though he does miss seeing your pretty eyes looking up at him while your mouth is stuffed with his cock.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Again, depends on his mood. If he’s feeling frisky, he’ll opt for a quicker and rougher pace, snapping his hips into yours in quick, sharp thrusts while holding onto your hips or arms to hold you in place. However, he’s never rough to the point of it being painful. He doesn’t want to hurt you, so he’s never that rough with you.
Since he’s a sensual person, Aventurine definitely enjoys slower sex. It’s his go-to when making love to you. The thrusts are slow yet deep, his cock dragging against the walls of your pussy, allowing you to feel him properly and fully. With a slower pace, he can kiss you deeper, press his forehead against yours, and exchange words of love more easily. He’s also a fan of slow morning sex.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He’s fond of quickies. As much as he loves to take the time to work you up and explore your body, sometimes he just needs to quickly release all that pent-up lust to clear his mind. Especially if you’ve been teasing him for a portion of the day or you guys don’t have an opportunity to seclude yourselves for a longer session of sex. He can wait until you get home, but if you’re also willing, he’d much rather have a quickie.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He’s a gambler and lives for the thrill of taking risks, so I’d say he’s open to experimenting in the bedroom. Aside from the things mentioned in the ‘No’ section, Aventurine is very open to trying new things, even more dangerous ones like choking or exhibitionism. Even if he’s not into something, he’s willing to at least try it once if it’s something you really want to do with him.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Has average to a bit above average stamina. Can go for one long round with a lot of foreplay, maybe two if he’s particularly horny. Probably recovers quicker than you, though.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Does own a variety of sex toys he experimented with, but his favorite is a bullet vibrator that he uses while masturbating.
Will absolutely buy toys to use on you, like dildos, vibrators, ballgags, crops, etc… feel free to use the toys on him too, if you want.
He finds toys to be a fun way to occasionally spice up sex to prevent things from getting too stale in the bedroom.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Huge tease. The biggest tease. The kind of tease to overstimulate or edge you until you’re crying and beginning him for relief or to stop—you won’t even know which one. Thankfully he’s rarely that mean, but he likes to edge you a bit before diving into the good stuff.
Aventurine loves to hear you beg, and he will deny you what you want unless you ask for it nicely. You want him inside? In what way? His fingers or his cock? You need to be more specific, darling~
He also verbally teases you, commenting about how eager you are for his dick or how wet you already are despite just starting, etc… And he always says it with that smug, confident smirk of his.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Aventurine tries to be quiet because he’d rather hear you over himself, but he does let out his voice a fair bit. He’s prone to whining when you pleasure him, letting out low groans and soft moans, sometimes even growling if you get him particularly worked up, though that sound is rare.
He also talks a lot. Even if he’s breathless from exertion, he’ll still talk dirty, complimenting you on taking him so well, on how eager you are to please him, or how good you feel inside. If he’s making love to you, you might even catch him whispering a strained “I love you” when he’s close to climax.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Aventurine has nimble hands and knows exactly how to use them to drive you crazy with pleasure. He’s an expert at fingering you, knowing just the right way to curl his fingers inside your pussy to hit your g-spot, what pressure and speed to thrust them in and out of your sopping cunt until your toes curl and you’re clamping down on him as you orgasm.
He also likes to slip a hand between your legs to rub at your clit while fucking into you or to gently tweak and pinch your nipples. The little squeaks and sighs you let out in response are music to his ears.
If at any point you’re frustrated by him constantly edging and teasing you, he’ll quickly shut down your cute protests by deftly rubbing at your clit in exactly the way he knows you love. The way your jaw goes slack as you forget what you wanted to say, reduced to a moaning mess, has him gloating and grinning in triumph. He loves watching you succumb to his touch.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Is 4.5 inches (11.5 cm) long when erect, and 4.1 inches (10.5 cm) in circumference (girth). His dick is slender with a few prominent veins running along the shaft. The tip is a nice pink color.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Average. Generally, Aventurine engages in sex 2-3 times per week, but can easily go for more since he’s easy to arouse. The only issue is that he’s often too busy to find the time. You better believe that when he comes home from his weeks-long business trips, he’s taking you to bed for some passionate sex.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
It depends on the situation. If he has work to do after, then he will cuddle for a bit before reluctantly parting from you.
If it’s nighttime or if he has no pressing matters for the day, then Aventurine might let his exhaustion take over and allow himself to fall asleep. It doesn’t happen immediately, though. He prefers to indulge in the afterglow with you, chatting and cuddling for a while, maybe taking a bath together to clean up before bed. He falls asleep a lot easier with you by his side, feeling your fingers tenderly card through his hair or burying his nose into the crown of your head and breathing in your scent.
Unrelated, but he can be both the big and little spoon, though I think he prefers being the little spoon more often. It makes him feel secure when your arms are wrapped around him. He likes falling asleep while facing you, too. Being wrapped up in each other’s arms brings him comfort.
#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#star rail x reader#aventurine x reader#hsr aventurine x reader#aventurine x fem!reader#aventurine x reader smut
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❝ ORAL FIXATION LVL. [ EXTREME ] ! ❞
↻ featuring: t. fushiguro
⟢ blurb: do you have an oral fixation? yes, yes you do. and does sucking toji ōff satisfy it? yes, yes it does.
wc: 1.5k
contains — fem!reader, husband!toji, explicit content (mdni), foul language, feminine pet names, oral (m!receiving), light cöckwarming, light throat fūcking, dirty talk, use of good girl, reader gets called ‘pup’, praise
one thing you know for sure, your husband is a slut.
whether it's intentional or not, toji pushes your buttons to the point of bed-breaking sex. as you both relax on the couch watching television together, here he is, trying to provoke you.
you sit nestled under his beefy arm as his hand rests on the ample flesh of your breast over your t-shirt in a comfortable hold. he sits man-spread, gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips showcasing his delectable v-line and the tufts of dark hair that make up his happy trail. tight black shirt that conforms to the musculature of his torso. jeez, if the fabric were a lower cut, he'd damn near be showing his cleavage.
who told him to look like that? WHO?
as you scan his physique with your starving orbs, you try your damnedest not to stare at that all-too-obvious bulge of his cock in his pants. such thickness, such length that never fails to pound you into the mattress. the stretch it delivers to your awaiting cunt causes your to curl your toes in your socks just from the thought.
saliva pools in your mouth as a heavy feeling overtakes your tongue. you need him, and you need him now.
you shift lower on the couch as your hand slides up his thick thigh tantalizingly slow. "can i help you?" toji's deep baritone rings out, eyebrow quirking up when you slip your nimble fingers into the waistband of his sweats and boxers. "yeah actually, lift your hips," your demanding tone ricochets off his ears.
his features crumple up at your blatant audacity to demand anything without the magic word. his hips still haven't lifted while the soft background noise of the television fills the tense air.
fuck.
"what?"
"lift your hips toji," you repeat, annoyed that he's not listening.
his giant hand cups your chin, stout fingers pressing into your soft cheeks. his navy irises lock onto yours in an intimidating sexual gaze. "use your manners. you know i taught you better than that," now it was toji's turn to command you. a rush of warmth floods your face at his raspy demand. your eyes dart away from his potent stare as you mumble incoherent syllables.
"speak up girl," he harshly utters as the pads of his fingers tighten on your chin. "please lift your hips, toji, i want it in my mouth," you plea sweetly as your fingers play with his waistband, wanting nothing more than to see his cock, to feel the weight on your tongue. he scoffs "not even a 'pretty' in front of that pathetic please? you must not want—"
"nononono i do, i wan' it pretty pleaseee toji," you whine. a smug smirk shows on his lips, turning the scar on the side of his mouth up. "there's my good girl, i was wonderin' where she was, heh. take what you need baby," he slides his hand from your chin to your ear as he tucks some of your locks behind it. a touch so intimate, so loving, a major contrast to the sultry way he licks his lips as if he's thirsty for what's about to come.
once he lifts his hips, you make quick work of taking his pants off him, ripping them down just far enough to free his soft dick from his boxer. how is he still so big on soft? you wonder. you lean down and deliver a tiny peck to his limp cock before engulfing the entire thing in the cave that is your mouth. the pubes at his base tickle your nose as you have him far down between your lips. "can’t even relax without you tryin’ to suck on my cock, shit," toji hisses.
his soft trunk is stationed between your lips as you flatten your tongue to lick the underside of it. you're not even sucking it yet, just warming it up while your spit trickles slowly, creating a light tickle down the sides of his flaccid cock. toji sits back, entertained but quickly growing impatient with each pass of your tongue on his shaft.
"come on girl, either suck it or get off my cock," he huffs huskily with traces of a pout on his scarred lips. you roll your eyes at the obvious sass in his tone. you almost want to keep warming his cock just to torture him but, that would also be torture to you, and that you don't want. so, with a wrap of your manicured hand around his girth, you begin to stroke him, successfully smearing all your saliva gloss mixed concoction up and down his length.
"yeah, that's it. make sure to get that cock niceeee and wet, mhm," he sighs as his body relaxes into the cushions, head tilting back against the back of the couch. the air around you both grows hot, thick with sensuality. as your warm mouth slides up to his mushroom tip, you swirl your plush tongue around it eliciting a soft groan from the ravenette. you feel the transition in his dick from soft to hard as you carry on.
your hand starts to move in tandem with your mouth. up and down movements as the goal in your mind becomes clear. you want him to cum, more than anything you want to see him fall apart all because of you. “such an eager pup f’me,” toji breathed as the pleasure from your warm, wet cavern shoots to his toes. the in-sync motions of your hand and mouth are steady, sucking from base to tip as your tongue lies flat on the underside of him.
up and down, up and down, up and—
you feel toji place his strong hand on the back of your head, threading his fingers into your locks as he forces you down to his base. a sputtering gag erupts from the back of your throat as his fat cock forcefully enters. “take it, take it, oh fuck. tight. . .fuckin’. . .throat, god d-damn,” toji strains as sweat starts to form on his forehead. you relax your throat to assist the bullying of his girth into your snug tunnel.
his fingers tighten their grip on your strands pulling you off his now rigid cock. panting breaths release from you as your chest moves to the rapid beat of his heart. toji locks his gaze with yours in admiration. beauty that can rival aphrodite herself. big ‘innocent’ eyes filled with tears decorating your lash line, clear saliva strings that connect your plump lips to his blushing tip, just gorgeous. “mmm, my pretty baby.”
his hand slides down the back of your head, cups the nape of your neck as his free hand grabs the base of his cock. toji taps the fat tip on your slick lips like he's microphone-testing making a short whimper fall in response. “open up ‘n finish what you started, dirty girl," toji's deep drawl commands as he smudges his beaded precum, making your lips change from red to a soft pink color.
a thin string of crystalline arousal drips from your puffy cunt wetting the pillow below you. as you sink your mouth back down on his cock, you take your fingers, gather your wetness from your begging slit and coat his shaft in the lewd substance. toji watches with a filthy smirk present on his handsome face. "nasty little girl, definitely trained you so well. now, back to it baby, don't keep that cock waiting," he emphasizes by holding your hair back in a makeshift ponytail.
and so you don't, keep that cock waiting that is. both of your hands encase his engorged hard-on in a tight clasp. toji's balls scrunch up as you swallow down his manhood with vigor. "f-fuckkk," toji hisses at the accelerated rate you're sucking him off. with each bob of your head, you twist your hands with each up and down stroke at the same time.
focused. the focused look on your features has toji on the verge of cumming already. he may never see heaven but, this, with your obscene mouth working on his cock is all the heaven he needs. you start to suck harder. shit, shit, shit, toji thinks. "jus' tryin' to suck that cum out huh? good girl, work for it. work for my fuckin’ cum," he encourages, almost desperately.
the pleading tone in his voice egged you on. you wanted it, the need to make this man fall apart and fill your mouth up with his warm seed was almost demonic. and so, you kept moving. not stopping no matter the dull ache you felt in your neck and wrists. toji's low primal grunts and growls mixed with your pornographic gagging made music that could put symphonies to shame.
he's in ecstasy as the pang in his balls grows tighter and tighter until you moan around his stiff cock putting the final nail in the coffin. all words leave him as — forget stars, this man sees the whole solar system behind his eyes as deep guttural groans and curses tumble out of his parted scarred lips.
the bucking of his hips, perfectly fucking his thick cum down your throat as you swallow each spurt. after what feels like an eternity, his physique, damp with sweat weakens into the couch as he comes down from cloud nine. “whew, fuck, such a good pup for milking my dick. on all fours now baby, still got one more ‘n me.”
@shaguro @ich1koko @sugabie @chromimis — enjoy my lovelies !!! xoxo
2024 © thebimbopalace — please DO NOT copy, change, or repost my works on any other platform. All rights reserved to @ thebimbopalace
#✎ᝰ. ( signed your majesty ) !#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro x reader#fushiguro toji x reader#toji smut#toji x reader#fushiguro toji smut#toji x you#toji x y/n#jjk x y/n#jjk x reader smut#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x fem!reader#jjk fic#jujustu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut
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NSFW ALPHABET
[DI! Leon S Kennedy Edition]
❗Minors Do Not Interact ❗
A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)
Cuddler, massive cuddler. Honestly I see Leon as enjoying his partner being cuddled up to his chest but as long as you're touching each other he really doesn't mind. He just needs to be grounded after sex because he's not use to intimacy. (Remember y'all, aftercare in important FOR EVERYBODY INVOLVED DOM/SUB/SWITCH WHOEVER!!!)
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)
Definitely proud of his arms. Man's got two pythons where his forearms are supposed to be. I'd be proud of those bitches too. It also doesn't help how often you tend to cling to them, admire them while cuddling up together or compliment how they look when he flexes.
When Leon's asked the good old "tits or ass?" question older than time itself he smirks and simply says thighs. He loves something plush to nap on when he comes home from work. He always says it'll be a quick 30 minute nap but he's always out for 3 hours when he's laying his head on your lap. They're just such a nice pillow and even nicer wrapped around his head.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Usually prefers finishing inside. If not then on your stomach. There's just something mesmerizing about watching his cum slowly drip out of you on down your belly that just makes him so horny that he can't get enough of you.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Okay... So you send Leon pictures and he saves them. (He'd never share them though) But he secretly has an album in his phone labeled as WORK meticulously organization so that when you open the album it has important looking photos but if you scroll far enough it's just things you've sent him. Nudes, videos, even screenshots of steamy texts.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)
Decently experienced. Enough to get him by but also good at listening to his partner. Takes criticism well in the bedroom. Just wants his partner to have a good time and show that he loves you.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
On your side or anything he can see your face. He's often tired so slow easy strokes on his side and using his hands is right up his alley. But for when he's feeling more energetic he's definitely up anything he can see your reaction with. He aims to please and the man is a good shot.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Definitely 50/50. Leon can crack jokes when his life is at risk I'm sure he'd probably say something goofy to make you laugh or even something stupid like "come here often?" When you're changing positions and his creaky body pops or cracks he'll say some smart ass comment about the bed makes weird sounds again.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Definitely trimmed. Leon doesn't strike me as a massively hairy guy to begin with. But what hair he does have is well kept.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Intimacy is his favorite part of it all. Very tender and soft compared to what he is during work. Enjoys the touching the most. He's very touch starved. Cuddle him and he'll melt into a puddle. He LOVES being little spoon.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Jerks off often. Uses it as a stress relief thing but doesn't do it as often when he gets a partner. But I do think when he's away on cases and he has downtime at night he tends to call his partner and have phone sex.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Begging, biting, breeding, dirty talk, edging and roleplaying
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Anywhere at home. Leon would most likely be super hesitant about doing anything outside of the house and risking criminal record.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
His partners touch. Leon just really likes being touched. If you mostly just kiss him and move to his neck (it's sensitive, that's why he rarely wears anything that constricts his neck) you'll get him going in no time.
N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)
No hitting, nothing with feet, no bathroom related stuff, no voyeurism or exhibitionism and no humiliation
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
50/50. But definitely more giving in the oral department. Uses it as a form of foreplay. Enjoys it because he loves hearing your slowly break and cry for him.
Sometimes he's just to exhausted to fuck so those are the times he'll just straight up tell you to sit on his face. He doesn't care if you're bigger, he knows you're not gonna hurt him. If you try hovering her will definitely wrap his arms around your thighs and pull you down on him. The man is skilled with his mouth and hands. So be prepared for the time of your life.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Definitely slow sensual type of guy. He likes making every moment last. But there's definitely been a flurry of passion after gets back from particularly long cases.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
If he has to go out for work and he has a little bit of time before leaving, most definitely he'd be down for a quickie.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He's fine with experimenting but not often.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Good for 3 rounds unless he's super tired. Last decently long, always makes sure his partner gets off first each time.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Oh Leon definitely owns one of those vibrators that work with apps. Sometimes when he's due to come home and he knows you have it in you he'll just tease you on the way home.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Usually Leon doesn't tease but when he's in a particular frisky mood, he will make beg to cum. And he doesn't care if you want it. If you don't beg like he wants he will make you wait and keep bringing you to the edge over and over like an asshole.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Not loud in the slightest but he's definitely not scared to moan or whimper. Even curse under his breath, especially if he has you on your side and he's right in your ear.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Said I love you for the first time during sex. Was mortified with himself, he meant it but was extremely embarrassed. Apologized profusely and told you he did mean it. And thankfully you love him back, obviously.
X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)
Ah yes, python 3. I'll be honest, I'd say he's at the higher average end in size but makes up for it in girth... Like a fucking coke can.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Leon had little to no sex drive but once you two got into a relationship he's like a teenage boy again. Can barely stop from wanting you all the time. But he's still more of the romantic intimate type and would rather just exist with you than constantly be at each other.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He clings onto life afterwards. Just wants to make sure you're taken care of but the second you relax against him he's down for the count. Like a god damn bear in hibernation.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x fem reader#leon s kennedy#resident evil x reader#🌿 ivy writes
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Would you pls do a Mary earps imagine with them filming TikTok’s together and being otp x
A/n: Not exactly what you asked for but close enough i think.
TikTok is the bane of your very existence.
It’s the bane of your professional life as a chef because everytime you turn around one of your crew is using prep time to make a concoction and upload it to that godforsaken app.
And in your personal life?
Well, in your personal life, it feels like every time you blink you're being sucked into filming one of those stupid videos with your girlfriend.
The first time it happened, you were barely even sure what was going on.
The two of you had been getting ready to go on a date to a relatively nice restaurant, when she pulled up in front of her phone’s camera so she could show off what you were wearing.
That had been the beginning of the madness (as well as a very hard launch of your relationship to the public).
It didn’t really matter what you were doing, if Mary had decided that a video needed to be filmed, it’d be filmed.
A literal walk in the park. TikTok.
You driving. TikTok.
You tearing a member of the kitchen staff a new one. TikTok. (Although she’d been asked not so politely by the head chef to never do that again).
You cooking in your shared flat. TikTok.
Hell, she even made a TikTok of you sharpening your knives, a task you find completely mind numbing.
And if having your every move recorded wasn’t bad enough, she also had you joining her in filming one of the more popular trends. You mouthing along to the silly sounds that are currently popular on the app. Or worse, dancing, you hate the dancing.
Asking how often you think about the Roman Empire (only as often as you need to).
Throwing herself fully clothed into the shower and singing Taylor Swift while you were trying to brush your teeth.
Making you record a two second clip of everytime you changed clothes while on vacation.
The list is neverending.
Which is why you should be more alarmed when you see her walking into the kitchen with her phone out but you’re too focused on chopping the vegetables you’ll be using in your meal prep.
“Baby,” she says.
“Hmm?”
“Can we record a TikTok?”
“Can I keep doing what I’m doing,” you ask in return, still not looking up from the cutting board.
“You don’t need to do anything but stand there and look pretty,” Mary says as she sets her phone up next to you. “And answer questions,” she adds as an afterthought.
You roll your eyes but don’t make any additional comments as you see her hit record.
“So a ton of you have been asking in the comments how my wife manages to be a professional chef when she has so many food allergies,” Mary says, looking directly at the camera. “And I figured it was better if I just let her explain it. Babe?”
Admittedly, you hadn’t really been listening to every word that she had been saying, only really listening to every word that she had been saying, only really catching the words ‘allergies’ and ‘professional chef’, which is a topic you get asked about a lot. So you just answer without really thinking.
“My main allergies are seafood, peanuts and treenuts. And since I’m one of 2 or 3 sous on any given night, I just,” you pause, “wait, what did you just call me?”
You can feel cheeks heating up as your brain finally processes what just happened.
“What? Babe?”
Mary’s playing dumb on purpose. She knows it. You know it. And you both know that the other one knows.
“Not that, the other thing.”
“What my wife,” she asks.
A cheeky grin breaks out on Mary’s face as she watches even more color rush to your face.
For you, when she repeats it, you suddenly feel like you can barely breathe and you know that your next words come out a little choked (much to Mary’s amusement.)
“Yup, that.”
As calmly as you can manage, you put your knife down and take off your apron before walking out of the kitchen.
“Wait, where are you going?”
“I have to find my wallet and keys,” you shoot back.
“Why?”
“I gotta go buy a ring before you change your mind!”
The sound of her laughter is the only thing you hear as you close the door behind you.
The video is up on that cursed app by the end of the week.
A photo of the ring on Mary’s finger goes up just a few hours before.
#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso x reader#mary earps x reader#mary earps imagine#muwfc imagine#engwnt x reader#engwnt imagine#muwfc x reader
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Well, I Wasn't On That Tunnel ❤️
Masterlist - Taglist Form
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3
Pairings: Ghoap x Reader.
Warnings: Poly relationship, rotating POV (mostly Simon's), panic attack, mentions of guns and war (this is COD so), mentions of cheating but it just three idiots not knowing what poly is ❤️
Soap gets thrown into action ridiculously quick, barely passing the psychological evaluation and he is ready to go back to war. It had costed you multiple fights with Price, even with Laswell, to try and keep him from going back.
It didn't matter how many times you debated it, or how solid your arguments were. If the psychiatrist decided that Johnny was ready.... He was.
Even if she contradicted herself, even if you said Johnny had forgotten half of his experience, even if you said he was still in physical rehab.
All of that didn't matter.
And no matter how hard you fought it, barely a couple of months after you returned to base, Johnny was putting on his uniform to leave.
Price wasn't the only one you argued with, the frustration of feeling like you were sending Johnny to the slaughterhouse caused you to be irascible and, even if you didn't mean to, to lash out at anyone who would disagree with you.
Even if Johnny was the one who was opposing you.
"Lass, I don't want to go away being in a fight with you." He began to say as he strapped on his vest.
"Then don't leave." You replied from the door frame and your arms crossed.
"Baby... We've been over this, please.... I have to..." She said, hands raised and voice soft as if speaking to a frightened animal.
And that's how you felt, like a dog being promised by his owner that he's not going to abandon him as he walks out the door with a target on his forehead.
Just like Johnny, you had also had sessions with the base psychiatrist; but unlike him, you had not been given a pass. You were more than ready to be discharged, but if they clared you, then you would have the power to say that Johnny was not ready to return.
So the amnesiac who two months ago could not walk was prepared to return to the battlefield. And you, whose only psychological damage was to see him dead, were bound hand and foot as you watched him go to almost certain death.
"No! You don't have to, Johnny! Don't you realize what they're doing!!!?" You burst out, once again, uncrossing your arms to express your displeasure with the situation.
"Of course I realize! I have amnesia, I'm not an idiot!" He responded in the same tone as you, causing guilt to build up in your opinion. "I'm still capable of making my own decisions so you don't need to make them for me anymore! Don't you realize I need to feel useful!"
Johnny didn't want to yell at you, or lose control and say something he didn't mean; but he was still human and frustration had gotten the better of him too.
Ever since he saw how Ghost had left you in your room, the fact that you had been together obvious; Johnny hadn't been able to help but compare himself to the blond.
At first it was physical, the time immobilized had left him thinner. When Gaz showed him a picture from before the accident he doubted that he could ever be as wide as he was before... Almost the same as Ghost.
But not now.
Now he was shorter, weaker, more inexperienced... He had nothing to beat him with, to compete for you. And Johnny knew it.
Besides, he was sure that you must have felt him as a burden. A big baby you had to take care of so he wouldn't choke if you didn't cut his food.
So when he was asked if he wanted to come back, he didn't think twice. Later, when he told you about it and saw how your expression changed to one of absolute panic, he regretted not asking you before agreeing. But his pride was hurt when he saw you arguing with everyone you could to keep him from going.
This was not your first discussion on the subject, and every time it ended you both felt like idiots; for hurting the other indirectly and for knowing that you were not able to convey your own feelings to each other.
And Simon has been the scavenger vulture that has taken advantage of each and every one of those discussions.
As soon as he realized that you had argued, Simon would go from one to the other.
"I'm worried about him too, love. But Johnny's still Johnny, nothing's going to happen to him, you'll see." He would say to you.
"I understand you, Johnny.... It's normal that you want to go back to the battlefield.... It's where you always shine the most..." I said to him.
And so on and so forth.
Simon wasn't looking to fuel any enmity between the two of them, it didn't make sense when he was the one who wanted to join the pair. But when he saw the small chasm that the argument created, he only strove to shape it into his own form; to pull the two of them into him once inside.
It was a turning point on his relationship with Johnny. In no way enough for the blue eyed man to like him, but now he answered when he talked to him.
He had managed to catch Johnny with his guard down a couple of nights ago, after what seemed like the biggest argument between the two of you. You didn't even let Simon in your room. But Johnny did.
They spend the greater part of the night talking, it was obvious that Johnny has been wanting to rant and would rather have somebody to do it that simply talking to the void. He had to do his greater effort to not take more than Johnny was giving him, to not get closer as he spoke; even if he mumble and could barely hear him. Not to hug him when he saw his eye shine with unspilled tears when he talked about making you sad. Not to lay him over his lap and beat his ass black and blue when he confessed some of the things he had said to you.
He pulled back, he stayed on a safe distance. And the next day he got his reward when Johnny finally spoke to him first.
“Morning, Lt.”
Like a ghost of his life before the accident.
It was your turn now.
The night before the flight to his new mission.
It wasn't meant to be a difficult mission, and even though he new there was always some risk, he wouldn't have allowed Johnny to tag along if he knew there was an actual threat.
He also knew that you couldn't see that, and he understood perfectly why. He just neded to think about how much time you were alone with an unconscious Johnny, everyone would have gone crazy in your situation.
Stranded, injured, taking care of an unresponsive person, that person being a loved one… he knows he wouldn't have been rescued. But you turned off that part of you brain, focusing on keeping Johnny alive and yourself by correlation.
Fear and despair are human emotions, and you can't have those if you turn yourself in a machine. And Simon knew that well.
He agreed with the psychiatrist up to a certain point, you had developed a link to Johnny during your stay that needed to be broken. Focusing on keeping Johnny alive kept you sane, when losing your mind or asking for help meant your death or Johnny's.
But that risk was no longer there, therefore you should have let go of it; but the rope is already under your skin to do so and now you panic even at the thought of it. The suppressed feelings too mixed and too tight inside of your mind to make sense.
That's how you found yourself now, curling on Simon's lap, hyperventilating as you cry your eyes out. The rope keeping you hanging over your feeling finally snapped, and you fell right onto his arms.
And if it weren't for the heartbroken way you were crying, Simon would have been happy to be the one you had looked to for relief.
Simon didn't try to talk to you, knowing you wouldn't even hear him over the sound of your cries, he simply hugged you and stroked your head; while you cried on his shoulder, his shirt getting wet with your tears, drool and snot. Completely crumbling after finally facingyour long neglected feelings.
The fear of dying in the tunnel, the pain of injury, the anxiety of a possible ambush at any moment, the constant tension that Johnny will suddenly get worse. All out, back into the world.
It's when you're choking on your own saliva, coughing and breathing tightly together causing you to gag, that Simon moves his hands to your arms, gently pushing you to see you better.
But his heart shrinks when he notices your hands gripping his shirt tightly as a whimper escapes your lips. Still, and with as much willpower as he can, he pulls your trembling hands away from the clothes, with them quickly grabbing his hand instead.
You are still hyperventilating, your head is lowered and Simon can only see the tears falling as your whole body trembles.
"What’s that sound?" Simon suddenly asks, and your too-curious-for-your-own-good nature betrays you by making you fall for his trick.
Because your cries gradually diminish in volume, to try and hear whatever Simon is talking about. But the short moment when you're just hiccuping, trying to breathe normally to hear better, is all Simon needs.
He grabs the tissue from the bedside table, bringing it up to your nose to blow your snot. A confused expression comes over your face, would he really blow your nose?
You take the tissue from his hand and do it yourself, asking him for a couple more before finally feeling your face dry from tears and so on.
"I'm sorry" You whisper, with Simon quickly quipping to you before you can finish.
"You have nothing to be sorry for. It was about time you got it out, love." He tells you, helping you to lean against him again.
You snuggle into him, your head resting on his dry shoulder and your hands pressed to your chest, making it easy for Simon to wrap his arms around you.
He knows you still have a lot more to release inside you, but he also knows it's not the pain you can vent in a single crying session. But the first step has been taken.
And more importantly, the next morning when you say goodbye to the two of them before they leave for their mission, you talk to Johnny again.
"You be careful, okay? And no more head banging, Johnny." You mutter, moving Johnny's head so his forehead rests on yours.
"Of course, bonnie. We'll be back before you miss me." Johnny replies, giving you a kiss on the cheek, right next to the nose wetting his lips with the single tear that escapes you.
In addition, once on the plane, Jonny watches him for a while before speaking again.
"You talked to her, didn't you?"
"Yes, last night."
"Thanks.”
Once on the battlefield, Johnny's attention is once again focused on Ghost. On the intimidating, terrifying lieutenant who at every turn turns around to make sure Johnny is still behind him, without a scratch.
Johnny is aware of the void in his memory of the last few years of his life. But he remembers perfectly the years of his adolescence when he doubted so much about his sexuality. How his eyes would run after every pretty girl he passed in the halls of high school. And at night, when he can't sleep; he still remembers the awkward erection when the captain of his rugby team tackled him during practice, leaving Johnny pressed against the ground.
It has been many years since Johnny came to terms with the fact that he preferred not to put labels on something he didn't fully understand.
So when in the middle of a surprise exchange of gunfire Simon grabbed his arm hiding Johnny behind him to make sure he didn't get hit and his eyes were fixed on the small space of exposed skin between the glove and the sleeve, and Johnny watched him for longer than would be considered normal.... He was not really surprised.
Johnny can see what you see in Simon. Especially because of the way he treats him, even if Johnny doesn't know. Simon cannot help himself.
In his Johnny the one at stake.
With anyone else, Simon wouldn't hesitate to let his nasty nature called Ghost, which he has cultivated to keep people away, shine through. But not with Johnny. Nor with you.
At least not when his goal is to find his niche between the two of you.
So Johnny sees for the first time, what if he were able to remember, he saw between the cracks of Ghost's mask after years.
And just as it happened to him before the accident.... Johnny can't help but feel the butterflies when Simon looks into his eyes.
"You alright, Johnny?”
Against all odds, but still not surprising to either of them, the mission ends up lasting much longer than they both thought it would.
This ends up working to Simon's advantage, as it continues to push Johnny towards him.
Their relationship continues to mutate by leaps and bounds, as the day before they boarded the plane Johnny could barely look him in the eye without hatred in his pupils.
This is why, when they finally start to mobilize to return to base and the two of them are assigned to return in a single car with no one else; that Johnny deviates from the road and parks on the side of the road.
"Can I ask you something, Lieutenant?"
And Simon questions for a moment if there really is anything Johnny could ask him that he wouldn't be willing to answer.
"Go ahead."
"Before the accident... What was the situation?"
"Elaborate."
"Between us... and with her."
And Simon knows perfectly well what Johnny is referring to, the scotsman is neither stupid nor blind.
"What would it affect how things were before the accident?"
"Everything!"
"Give me an example, Johnny."
"Whatever." Johnny backs off, jerking his hand to restart the car.
Except Simon is quicker and takes the key out of the ignition and out of Johnny's hand.
"Explain yourself, Johnny."
"No, whatever, we're late."
"Until I get there no one leaves, we can be as late as we want to be. Explain yourself."
Johnny puffs, running a hand through his hair, messing it up even more if possible.
"I feel at a disadvantage, okay?" Johnny admits, glancing at Simon for a second before looking ahead again. "I feel like everyone is aware of what's going on and everything that happened before the accident. And that everyone's talking over my shoulder as if instead of amnesia I was stupid. And I have feelings that don't make sense for me to have in such a short time, and the only thing that makes sense in my mind is that they were already there before the accident!"
The two remain in awkward silence for more minutes than is desirable.
"Do you have feelings for me, Johnny?"
"No!"
One more awkward silence.
"For her?"
"...I don't know."
"You don't know or you don't want to admit it?"
"I don't know!"
Simon is frustrated with myself, and is aware that Johnny must be equally frustrated. Two grown men too stubborn to admit their feelings.
Simon huffs, pondering his next move for just a few seconds before removing his mask. The move catches Johnny's attention and he turns to look at him, just in time to see Simon grab his face to crash his lips against his.
It's a peck. Nothing more.
But it's enough to make Johnny look at him like he's just grown horns on his head. Simon can practically see the smoke coming out of Johnny's ears, but he also sees his eyes stare for a millisecond at his lips again. And that's all he needs.
"Do you want to talk about feelings or do you want to show them to me, Mactavish?"
Johnny only needs a second to unbuckle his belt and grab Simon's vest to pull him closer to him.
Johnny knows this isn't the way, that they should talk, clear out everything, lay the groundwork for the strange triangle they're excluding you from for now by doing it this way.
But after the time spent together on the mission, every glance, every brush, every word exchanged. Johnny knows this isn't the right way to do it, but he knows it's the easiest. And for now, that's enough for him.
Johnny moves over the console to reach Simon; it's an awkward position with the gearshift lever digging into his thigh. But when Simon's hands travel to the back of his thighs and he sits him on his lap it all fits together like puzzle pieces.
It's an aggressive kiss, with both wanting to take the lead; teeth clashing, drool sliding down the corner of their lips and one's breath colliding with the other's.
It's Simon who gives in, letting Johnny enter his mouth, savoring the taste of the cigarette he smoked just before starting the car. A horrible taste that tastes like glory coming from the blond's mouth.
Despite the multiple layers of clothing, Johnny can perfectly feel Simon's cock harden under his weight. Johnny lowers his hand to Simon's belt, unbuckling it carelessly; parting the kiss to look down at what he's doing.
That moment Simon takes the opportunity to speak. "You're not going to let me fuck you, are you?"
Johnny laughs softly, shaking his head at the same time. "Didn't you ask me to show you my feelings, blondie? I'm going to show them to you, just as good as I showed her."
"Can't fucking wait." Simon declares pulling Johnny's hair to kiss him again once he manages to unbuckle his belt.
Johnny slips his hand into Simon's boxers, wrapping his hand around his member and pulling it out of the confines of the garment. Simon moans at the not very gentle maneuver, Johnny's calloused hand moving up and down against the dry skin making him groan.
Johnny notices the lack of lubrication and spits a heavy blob of saliva onto his tip, Simon sighing in relief at the much desired wetness.
"Now imagine if instead of my drool it was her pussy juices, Simon." Johnny murmurs, licking Simon's neck making Simon groan letting his head fall back against the headrest.
"That's a fucking dream, Johnny." Is all he manages to reply.
Johnny laughs, unbuckling his own belt with one hand as he continues to massage Simon's length with the other. When he manages to get his own member out he also positions himself as close as he can to Simon, cock against cock. Needing to use both hands to encircle both members as he moves them up and down, bringing them both fully to life; noticing how they harden between his fingers.
It is impossible for him not to move his hips against his hands, both moaning in unison at the friction between their cocks. The little droplets of cum that are born from their members helping to increase the mess of fluids.
It's only when Johnny decides that enough is enough that they change positions. Simon takes off his pants, limiting himself to removing one boot so he can stick one leg out; and Johnny tells him how he wants him to lie on the back seats.
The man is too big for the car seats, with his head resting on the hand rest by the door and his knees bent to fit. Johnny kneels on his chest, trying not to drop his weight on it so as not to suffocate Simon. With the hand he has on the base of his member, he moves it so that he slaps Simon on the mouth.
"Careful, Johnny" Simon warns him, trying to let Johnny know that he is in control for as long as Simon wants.
Johnny smiles, winking at him. Perfectly aware of the danger but unafraid of the consequences. "We don't have any other lube, Lieutenant. Ye better blow me good."
Simon grunts, parting his lips so Johnny can enter his mouth. Johnny begins to move his hips, slowly so the Brit can get used to the width of his member. Johnny moans as he feels the warmth of his mouth around his member, the muscle of his tongue caressing the underside of it causing a shiver to run up his back.
Johnny looks over his shoulder, dropping his eyes to Simon's member, taking a moment to admire it in all its splendor. It's long, easily over 7 inches, uncut, lying flat on the part of his abdomen exposed by his wrinkled T-shirt, slightly tilted to one side by his own weight and with a healthy amount of mouthwatering veins that make Johnny's mouth water.
But today, Johnny has a different mission. He slips two of his fingers into his own mouth licking them as he makes eye contact with Simon while continuing to move his hips; driving deeper and deeper into his mouth.
The hand that was at the base of his member moves to Simon's head, grabbing his hair and holding it still. The other, once satisfied with how wet his fingers are, moves it to between Simon's legs, brushing his member with his forearm as he does so and begins to press into Simon's tight entrance with his index finger.
Johnny notices him tense up for half a second at the sudden pressure before letting his body relax under Johnny's caresses and he pushes in to the first phalanx of his first finger. Moving his hand and hips in tandem.
Simon's jaw soon starts to ache, especially when Johnny begins to thrust forward; Simon's nose brushing against Johnny's pubes.
And yet, Simon moans when Johnny slips a second finger into his ring of muscle. They are both aware that Johnny's fingers are not enough to accommodate Johnny's girth, but in their perverted minds it only adds to the kinkiness.
Johnny finally pulls away from Simon's mouth, a trickle of drool connecting his lips to Johnny's member still. Mouth empty, Simon is free to moan as Johnny opens and closes his fingers inside Simon.
"I didn't know you were a singer, Lieutenant."
"Johnny... Shut the fuck up..." Is all Simon can reply.
Johnny pulls his fingers out, making Simon sigh, and moves to stand between Simon's legs, as comfortable as he can inside the cramped vehicle.
He thinks about it for a second before moving his hands under his officer's knees and moving them towards his head, easily folding him in half; the sergeant's strength taking him by surprise.
But what really surprises him is feeling the sergeant's wet tongue at his entrance, making him moan pathetically at the contact. It's a couple of mere licks, nothing more, before Johnny breaks away licking his lips; then spits a fat glob of saliva at the entrance.
The sergeant lowers his legs, sitting back up and Simon slightly blushing at the ease with which he has moved him to his surprise.
"I'll take it slow, okay?" Johnny suddenly says, a touch of gentleness amidst the strange scuffle that lets his true feelings show.
Johnny pushes forward slightly, both of them hissing at the tight feeling. Johnny's hand find their place on Simon's hips, with Simon's hand finding support on his wrists.
“Fuckin' hell, Johnny…” Simon moans whe Johnny has barely gotten past the puffy tip.
“You are going to choke my dick off, Simon” he moans, throwing his head back.
Slowly but steadily Johnny bottoms out inside of Simon, feeling his insides pulse around his length in a vice-like grip. Simon has never felt this full, feeling the weight of Johnny's shaft all the way back on his column.
Johnny slowly starts to move, painfully slow lo let the other finally adjust to the invasion. The moans and whispers growing in volume as Johnny starts to pick up the pace of his thrust.
And is not long before Johnny as a steady rhythm, hip slapping against his, Simon's cock slapping slightly against his abdomen with each thrust. Is when Johnny starts to snap his hips harder that Simon needs to move one his hands from Johnny's wrist to the door of the car to avoid getting a concussion with the hits of his head against it.
Simultaneously, and completely unaware of it, their minds travel to you. How would you fit in between them; would you ride Simon while Johnny rides him? Would you sit on Simon's face while Johnny rides Simon? Would they both fuck you senseless?
Johnny's free hand moves to Simon's shaft, grabbing it hard and tugging, forcing a whine out of Simon. “Shit! Johnny, that's- that's too much! Fuck!” Simon moans loudly, the double stimulation enough to make him throw his head back; hitting the door with the lack of strength left on his body.
“That's too much for you, Lt?” Johnny asks between grunts and moans. “And how will you handle her riding you while I fuck you?” The mental image making both moan.
“Once we are back… I'm destroying your ass, Johnny.” Simon manages to say through gritted teeth to avoid a moan from scaping his mouth.
Johnny chuckles at his threat. “Are you asking me on a second date, blondie?” He says, he bends down to kiss Simon again, and right before crashing his lips together he whispers “I can't fucking wait, Si.”
The new angle Johnny hits when bending down has Simon seeing white dots on his vision, and when Johnny tugs at his shaft again, thick ropes of cum spur on his abdomen pooling in his navel. He clenches down around Johnny's lengths, making him moan loudly and he barely manages to pull out before combusting over Simon stomach as well, the seed of both mixing together over his skin.
The car windows are fogged up as Johnny sits in the seat opposite Simon. Grabbing bandages from the first aid kit in his backpack so Simon can clean himself. Johnny readjusts, putting away his dick and buckling his belt; watching as Simon does the same once he manages to pull his pants back up and buckles his boot.
“About… about how we felt before the accident…” Simon breaks the silent, looking ahead. “We were never together… and I can't talk on behalf of her or you, but for me… I knew I felt things for…” Simon sighs, struggling to choose the right words. “I knew I used to feel things for the two of you… I still do.”
Johnny doesn't say anything, being able to tell that Simon still has more to say but needs a moment to regroup his feelings.
"Especially with you. The tunnel accident... It wasn't your first brush with death, Johnny. A couple of years ago, on a mission in Mexico, well, in Las Almas.... Things happened, and you and I got separated, we got... Uncommunicated... From each other and from everyone..." Simon narrates, recounting a mission that doesn't tug at Johnny's memory strings in the least. "On that mission I thought... I thought I'd lost you, Johnny. And it was in that moment that I thought I'd lost you that I realized they weren't just friends' feelings..."
Simon laughs dryly, rubbing his face with his hand before continuing. "I almost declared myself back then.... And several times after that but.... But then the tunnel thing happened and..."
The sentence is half-spoken, but neither Simon needs to say more nor Johnny needs to hear it.
"And... And you think I loved you back, Simon?"
"I'd like to think you did, Johnny.”
Taglist: @waiting-so-long @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @kayden666 @dumb12bvtch1212 @thatonepupkai @darkangel4121 @risingofjupiter @spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @soupinasock @marymustdie @arbesa-mind @cmbghost @multifandomheathenannie @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk @reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe @cassiecasluciluce @sleepdeprivedkat @lunamoonbby @hatterripper31 @contractedcriteria @cod-z @jaguarthecat @savagemickey03 @fraserbraw @rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow @viisgrave @theloneshadowbat @loveandplanet @sobbingnshtting @dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger @soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708 @katreintjie @sacvh @mothymunson @archenillo @thesinsoflust @sodavrr @yuki2129 @mikaronn
#call of duty#ghostsoap#ghost#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#cod x reader#cod#john soap mactavish#ghost cod#soapghost#simon riley#cod smut#ghost smut#call of duty x reader#cod modern warfare#soap x reader#call of duty modern warfare#cod mwii#ghoap#ghoap x reader#soap#call of duty smut#john mactavish#ghoap smut#soap x ghost#ghost x soap#ghost x soap x reader
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Problems (objective and personal) I'm not seeing discussed a lot w this new WatcherTV thing, in no particular order:
-Alienates people internationally who literally CANNOT GET the streaming service!
-Alienates casual fans who don't watch or want to watch all of their shows. Putting down 60 bucks a year to watch just one or two shows is kind of insane, at least for me.
-The volume of content Watcher has produced historically hasn't been enough to justify a separate streamer. I understand there's no way a small team could compete with something like Netflix, obviously, but that's what you're trying to do by putting yourself in the streamer market.
-Will this streamer be secure? What steps are in place to protect your viewers info? ESPECIALLY payment info.
-Will it be easily watchable on multiple devices? I watch YouTube videos on my phone at work 90% of the time, or at home on my TV thru my switch. Is this a browser only deal?
-What are the internet requirements for this? Believe it or not most streaming services won't run on my internet personally. I don't have any for that reason. I can watch YouTube on 360p, or on my 2-bar-reception phone data. Not everywhere has stable reliable internet.
-The suddenness and totality of the move was going to be jarring no matter what, if the idea had been introduced gradually or started as a hybrid model to test audience interest there wouldn't be nearly this amount of pushback.
-I understand the people saying "pay artists!!" Bc I am one, and I get that their quality is expensive and they have a whole company's worth of people to support. I do actually think their work is worth paying for! Everyone's is! But convincing anyone to pay for something they previously got for free is going to be a hard sell. They were still getting paid before, they're now just asking us to pay instead of the advertisers. Idk about you, but that's a way bigger hit to my pocketbook than a multimillion dollar company's bank account.
-I get that YouTube can be a really shitty place to be a creator sometimes, and that being beholden to advertisers is something they don't want to be. It's why they left Buzzfeed! They already have a patreon and merch and it's clearly not been enough for their ambitions. But shooting yourself in the foot because your running shoes are wearing out isn't going to make you a better marathon runner. They had to know that there was going to be a not small portion of their audience unwilling to make this move with them (and again, lots literally aren't able to!)
-If they had a free w/ ads option, or even did a hybrid model with whole shows behind the pay wall, or even just ran a fucking crowd funding campaign to help cover costs of new seasons of shows, any of those things could have worked. They don't even have YouTube memberships turned on, which I've personally seen many many channels do even when they already have a patreon. It really doesn't seem like they've exhausted other options, at least from an outside perspective, which is all we have as viewers!
-I get that this has been in the works for a long time, and that there probably isn't a way for them to back out now. But I hope they can find a way to make this more accessible if they want it to work at all. I truly am not wishing for their downfall, but the whole situation is an awful mess.
Idk, rant over. As a lot of you are I'm feeling very disappointed and upset with this one, and I'm not paying for it either. Hope the boys can salvage this one for their and their crew's sake. Would really hate for this to be the end.
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𝐁𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐀𝐍 | P.B x reader
authors notes : i know absolutely nothing about cheerleading or cheer comps. But I hope you enjoyed
requested by : anon
paige bueckers x competitive cheerleader reader
warnings : none
word count : 1.1k
best suited in dark mode !
You sighed and walked into Paige’s apartment tiredly. exhausted from the numerous hours spent practicing with your teammates.
With All Star Worlds right around the corner, you had been at the gym practicing with your team almost every day.
Leaving you fatigue and eager to go home and be held in Paige’s warm embrace. Desperate to listen to her voice as you fell asleep in her arms.
Throwing your cheer practice bag on the floor by the entrance, you shut the door and walked further into the apartment. The sound of footsteps coming from the hallway seconds after the door had closed
Immediately coming from around the corner to greet you, it seemed as if the blonde had been waiting impatiently for your arrival.
A grin on her face as her hand trailed down to your waist, pulling you in for a passionate kiss. Paige finally felt at peace, having you in her embrace after going all day without seeing you.
“Hi baby, how was cheer practice?” She asked, her hand remaining on your waist as she smiled ear to ear.
“It was so exhausting” She began, the blondes eyes focused on you — giving you all of her attention. “Coach lectured us about how we can’t lack energy on stage like we do at practice.”
Paige laughed, a wide grin on her face. “You know, I could totally be a competitive cheerleader. if i wanted to” She spoke confidently “Just without the flips n’ shit, that’s way out of my category”
The blonde often times begged you to teach her your routines. Determined to learn them no matter how complicated they were.
Always having you seated on the living room couch, showcasing the steps you taught her proudly. Even daring to showcase and teach her teammates the steps as well.
Deeming herself as your Biggest Fan, which you never doubted whatsoever. The girl always showed up at your competitions and always helped you get ready. Explaining that she wouldn’t optionally miss any of them for the world.
Even when her games fell on the day of your competitions, Paige would always facetime you and watch as you got get ready through the screen. Wishing you luck and having a bouquet of flowers waiting when you returned home.
“Keep it up and Coach might just make you my replacement.” You laughed at your girlfriend, walking past her and making your way to the bedroom — looking through dresser drawers for a pair of pajamas.
“Oh! are we taking a shower?” Paige asked, her attention drifting away from the cheer topic as she watched you lay out the pajamas. Consisting of her hoodie and a pair of pajama shorts.
Walking over to the dresser as well, the blonde began picking out new pajamas to put on. Despite knowing she had showered less than an hour ago.
“No, I’m taking a shower — you already showered” You told Paige, walking into the bathroom. The girl trailing behind you like a lost puppy in disbelief.
“That is not fair! Another shower won’t hurt anyone!” Paige exclaimed, walking into the bathroom with you as she sat on the bathroom countertop.
“I’m hot and sweaty, i’ll be out soon” You promised your girlfriend, placing a kiss on her cheek as you turned the shower temperature on cold.
“I can cool you off better than the shower can.” She muttered beneath her breath, rolling her eyes as she exited the bathroom.
▏cheer comp day !
“Paige! I said high ponytail, not low ponytail!” You exclaimed, taking the elastic out of your hair as you looked back at your girlfriend who stood behind you. Holding the look of a stressed and confused mom.
“Well I don’t even do my own hair, you do!” Paige spoke as she opened safari, googling what a high ponytail looked like.
Acting as if she had never seen the hairstyle in her life. Forgetting the fact you had to wear one during nearly every competition.
Hair products, makeup and a wide array of other items laid out on the stand connected to the mirror. You watched as Paige sprayed unnecessary amounts of hairspray on your hair. Setting the phone down as she started the style over.
“Okay wait, I remember this now!” Paige exclaimed as she brushed your hair upwards. You slowly beginning to wish you’d hadn’t agreed to her doing you hair.
The blonde spent the entire car ride pleading to help you get ready, specifically asking to help do your hair and watch you do the required makeup.
Unable to say no, you eventually gave into the girl’s pleads. Allowing her to mess with your hair until she successfully pulled it into tight high ponytail. “Got it!” She beamed, grabbing the navy blue bow that was covered with sparkles. Placing it front and center as it normally was.
Quickly doing a light face of makeup with the help of your girlfriend, Paige gave you the occasional time check — letting you know how much longer you had until it was time to preform.
When it came down to competitions, Paige acted like an over the top cheer mom. Always making sure to be on time and making sure everything was going the way it was supposed to.
Making sure all your bags were packed the night before and even loading them into the car that same night. The blonde didn’t mess around when it came to cheer competitions. Always making sure there was no room for anything to go wrong.
Standing up in your shimmery, navy blue cheer costume with the word ‘Uconn’ engraved in a cursive font on the front. Paige embraced you one last time before you had to preform.
“I love you, and you’re gonna do so well” She smiled, wrapping her arms around your waist as she whispered the words of affection to you. Wanting to make sure you carried her support during the performance.
“I love you too. And you’re gonna be in the audience watching, right?” You questioned out of nervousness, looking up at her as you broke the hug.
“I always am and always will be” Paige reassured, watching as your other teammates made their way out of the dressing room.
You smiled at the girl and nodded, hurrying behind the others. Thinking about how lucky you were to have Paige in your life.
Her being someone who brought nothing but positive memories, treating you like a piece of fine china and always offering unconditional support.
Always showing up whenever you needed her the most, and being the first person you always spotted in the audience — cheering at the top of her lungs.
It was safe to say that Paige Bueckers really was your Number One fan.
authors note
i’m so so so sorry if this was bad! I actually have zero knowledge when it comes to competitive cheer. But I hope you enjoy !! Requests are open too !
#anon ask#anon <3#paige bueckers x reader#paigebueckers#competitive cheer#wlw#uconn huskies#collegebasketballplayerxreader
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Mapleshade Discourse O'Clock
It's that time again!!! SO I just kinda want to jot down all of my various thoughts about it as a story and just generally weigh in about Mapleshade.
I like the idea of Mapleshade more than the actual Mapleshade that is used throughout the books.
She has a really good gimmick-- to haunt Applekin though the generations. I don't like how they turn her into a generic "cat satan" for Tigerclaw's Fury and keep making her appear as a vain lackey demon.
I like her characterization in Mapleshade's Vengeance the most, of all her appearances.
But, I don't think my reading of the character depicted in MV is what the author intended.
See, I like MV as a story with no hero. The only blameless characters are the kittens who drowned and Perchpaw, while everyone else is some flavor of selfish, cruel, or vengeful. Everyone thinks they're in the right, but no one truly wins in the end.
Nothing about it was noble. Every tragedy that happened was utterly avoidable. In the end, everyone bears some responsibility for the pain and suffering that happened the day those children drowned.
BUT I'm pretty certain that the intended reading was that Mapleshade would be the one clearly in the wrong the whole time, as she justifies her own actions like a villain does.
Especially knowing how poorly the writers thought of similar female characters like Squilf and Leafp lying about the three, or Nightcloud being jealous her crummy husband is acting strange around another woman.
I feel justified in assuming that when Mapleshade is not happy she's being cheated on, or when she refuses to correct Frecklewish's record knowing it's unsafe if her kits are revealed as half clan, the writer really does think you're not supposed to take her side.
Because women should just not have emotions about being cheated on or something, and lying is unspeakably bad even if the truth puts you and your children in danger.
But. Y'know. We can all use the braincell for a moment and see that this is fucking stupid
SO when the book goes on to have Mapleshade ignore all the warnings about the swollen river, show both ThunderClan and RiverClan being obscenely cruel to her, and then walk across that bridge while insisting in her head that the deaths weren't her fault, I think the implication is obvious AND SHITTY.
Ergo I reject it completely. I can see what the book wants to say, and I think it says something trashy.
In spite of how badly the writer wants it to be Mapleshade's fault the kittens died, I say it was the asshole who threw a bunch of kittens out into the rain for being mixed race, actually.
Oakstar had the power here. Ravenwing had some power as well, but he makes it clear it wasn't his suggestion to throw the babies out into the woods.
And when it comes to Bridge Discourse, it was at least the afternoon, raining heavily, and Mapleshade was trying to get to RiverClan Camp. A straight shot across the stepping stones.
I think it is ridiculous to imagine an extremely emotional parent managing three very scared children, attempting to get out of the rain and dangerous wilderness before nightfall, would be rational enough to realize a large detour would be safer.
MAYBE the distance from ThunderClan Camp to the Bridge is equal to the distance to the Stones. But the distance between the bridge and RIVERCLAN Camp is longer.
I hope this goes without saying; but Frecklewish didn't deserve the Dark Forest.
Even in Banana World logic where she was sitting on the bank watching those kids doggy-paddle. Do not fucking jump in to save drowning people if you are not trained to do that.
I'm dead serious, this is the first thing you learn in any kind of water safety course. They WILL panic, you WILL get dragged down, you WILL become another liability someone else has to save instead of helping your initial target.
And that isn't even mentioning this being a flooded river. That's POOL safety.
In spite of how I think Mapleshade was right to lie, I do think Frecklewish being that upset and angry was understandable.
You're entitled to your feelings, but not how you treat people. She still attacked Mapleshade and called the kittens a slur.
That's what makes her interesting, though.
I don't think she deserves the Dark Forest, but Frecklewish's anger is an interesting trait. I don't like how a lot of defensive interpretations of her character end up downplaying how she acted at the exile
why does a woman being rightfully angry suddenly strike people as "unsympathetic." Girls can also say things in fury they don't fully mean. OR girls can rationalize their unjustified, ballistic response post-hoc out of pride.
Idk let girls be mad. Admit they were wrong without deserving HELL. I don't like the woobification impulse.
It's not really a hot take anymore I think, but Frecklewish is definitely only in the DF because the writing team judges women characters more harshly. Oakstar threw babies out in the rain in fury, and Ravenwing didn't stop it. But somehow only Frecklewish, a normal warrior, gets DF'd.
But what really rattles around in my head about the whole story is the way that the in-universe culture is able to suddenly value ethics like peace, forgiveness, and tolerance when MAPLESHADE is ready to throw those things out, but BEFORE then, it's well established that Clan culture is violent, vengeful, and intolerant.
One of our earliest scenes is Rainfall snarling at Mapleshade that he loves the way Birchface and Flowerpaw drowned. He's threatening that he'll kill even more ThunderClan warriors.
Over in ThunderClan, everyone is itching for revenge against Appledusk for those deaths, even though it seems to have been an accident. Oakstar even hates RiverClan well into sequel books for this.
But then later on, everyone acts Shocked Pikachu that Mapleshade actually went and GOT revenge.
And like, let's be real. This is a battle culture. Yes, by OUR standards Revenge Is Bad.
But in these books, so full of war and clan conflict...?
What I'm saying is that I wish the books let Mapleshade be a little more "controversial" in-universe. Like some cats actually frame the story very differently, and you can learn a lot about a person by who they think the hero is.
And how RiverClan responds to the drowned kids bugs me a lot tbh
We just established over in ThunderClan that there are people who think the babies were born filthy for being HalfClan.
We know everyone there stood by and watched as Oakstar threw them out into the rain-- only Ravenwing even seemed uncomfortable.
AND we know very well that in a few generations, TigerClan will rise. Which openly executed a HalfClan cat and wanted to kill 2 apprentices.
We KNOW the bigotry in Clan culture is deadly and unfair.
But then they go over to RiverClan and Darkstar is sad these three kids are dead? And RC is furious with Mapleshade for that?
Again, YES, you and me with OUR morals know that this bigotry is insane and spiteful. What I'm getting at is that IN-UNIVERSE half clan kittens and their parents face extreme discrimination. Even within this book.
It's odd to me that Darkstar refuses to let Mapleshade bury their bodies, sends her away for the death of the kids while saying it's "not the season for losing warriors" to Appledusk, and it's meant to come across as delusional that Maple thinks her babies were buried dishonorably
I wish more women in WC got so pissed off at the absolute injustice of it all that they went on a girl rampage. Perhaps it's my own taste, but I like it a lot more when the villain isn't entirely wrong and there's several angles you can read the story from. If she didn't do what she did, she would have been the only one who saw any consequences for anything that happened.
Anyway in conclusion uhhh idk murder is wrong. But Mapleshade's allowed to do it because she's a silly billy. Her greatest crime was not killing Oakstar also
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Hi, can I request a Reader x F1 grid story where reader breaks her arm/leg and she can't race because of it, but she still attends the races to watch with her team? And then the drivers start to draw on her cast as a feel better soon gesture.
Maybe she also posts it on her social media throughout the day to show fans the progress of the drawings.
Thank you so much xxx
P.S. Love you writing
Hi !! So as you requested I used the F1 grid, but only the drivers who I write for originally (+ Albon). I also wrote reader as a F1 Academy driver to make it more easy to write and more realistic. It's the first time I write something like this, so hope you'll enjoy it girll !! ᥫ᭡
DRAWINGS ON MY BROKEN ARM
( because maybe you just need some love from your handsome friends. )
warning : none just a broken arm, a cast and fluff
note : I really struggled a lot to find some good cast pictures, these ones are a bit awful lmaoo sorry
word count : 1.3k
It was not planned. This was absolutely not what was planned.
As you get out of the car with difficulty, greeting pleasantly the driver who kindly accompanied you to the Suzuka circuit, you try as best you can not to move your arm too much. If you make unnecessary efforts you will tire yourself out for nothing.
You absolutely did not choose to break your arm. It was due to a mistake, a very big mistake indeed. While you were testing your car during free practice, during a session where the falling rain flooded the track with water, your tires did not grip effectively and you found yourself thrown against the wall, in a fairly serious crash. surprising.
The teams immediately helped you, and while everyone was asking you if you were okay after this crash, that's when you realized a big problem: yes, you were okay, but not your arm. . And after a short stay in the hospital, you now find yourself - or rather your arm - stuck in an amazing cast.
You obviously cannot participate in the next F1 Academy races. But you can, however, do something else that is much more energetic and beneficial for you in the state you are in: attend the F1 race which is currently taking place in Japan.
After all, being locked up for almost a week in your apartment was totally boring and you really need a little fresh air, and above all the passion for this sport to stimulate. Being a very close friend of certain drivers, you did not hesitate for a single second to accept your team's proposal when they offered to accompany you to the Suzuka GP.
Now there you are in the paddock, trying to slip through the others to get to the Mercedes garage. There where you find Georges, who smiles with all his teeth at the sight of you.
“Hello you” He walks over to you and starts to wrap his arms around you in order to give you a hug, but a reflex immediately makes him step back. “Oh sorry, I forgot you have a... little problem” He struggles to finish his sentence, grimacing at the sight of your wrapped arm in a cast.
You giggle before patting his shoulder. "Are you better since your crash? I saw that a few days ago and I was really scared for you." His eyes scan you, he is worried about you. You smile softly at him to reassure him. "Don't worry. I may have a broken arm but that won't stop me from supporting you in this race."
“Oh, Y/n!” Lewis' voice calls out to you, and you turn to face him, Charles next to him. They both smile at you, taking care not to touch your arm so as not to hurt you further. "I'm so sorry about your crash. You must definitely be disappointed." Lewis affectionately caresses your shoulder, a show of affection and support.
"At least you're alive, that's the main thing. It's good to see you here, the other guys miss you you know." Charles explains the situation, telling you how worried and scared the pilots were following your accident. You also received several messages from them on instagram, in which they supported you and showered you with kind words.
“Y/NNN!!” Daniel screams your name from afar, a big smile on his face as he almost throws himself at you. “Hey watch out for his arm.” Lewis alerts Daniel so he doesn't hurt you, but he doesn't seem to hear anything and comes to take you in his arms. “Daniel, I’ll go back to the hospital if you continue.” He finally pulls away, carefully observing your cast.
“Maybe I should call the others, they’ll be happy to see you.” Charles volunteers to bring the other drivers back, while you chat with your friends. They are all very respectful and very attentive, they are sincerely empathetic towards you.
In the distance, you finally see the rest of the boys arriving.
“Here’s my girl.” Lando comes to wrap his arm around your shoulders, a smirk present on his lips. You push him away, grimacing to tease him, and he holds his heart as if you had just broken it into a thousand pieces. "I know I shouldn't have sent you that 'get well soon' with a red heart on Instagram, hypocrite." He pretends to roll his eyes but his smile betrays him.
"Indeed, you shouldn't have. Your teammate was the first to message me and that's why he's my favorite boy today." Oscar tssk while crossing his arms, however amused by the situation. Max, Carlos and Alex are discreetly added to the group that has just formed around you.
“Even with a broken arm, you can do a lot of things you know.” Max told you in a confident manner. “Like Lance last year.” Carlos chuckled at Lando, both nodding at the same time because they thought the same thing. You can't help but feel alive again.
It's true that the last few days were difficult. Alone, injured and locked in your apartment, you no longer had much of a taste for life. You kept asking yourself questions about your future, about the rest of the races of the year. You were also worried. But you knew that coming here, being surrounded by your closest friends again, laughing and talking with them, was all you needed. You can only be grateful to them.
“I have an idea guys!” Alex then exclaims, drawing attention to himself. “Since Y/n is injured, and her cast is… white and bland, we should draw to give her courage.” He said while pointing at your cast. The other drivers nod, agreeing with the Williams driver's idea.
“I will have the honor of drawing first!” Then begins George, who is already ready to fight to have his drawing on your cast. "She wants a drawing of her favorite driver which is me. Too bad for you, George." Lando, and his sassy attitude, is ahead of the Mercedes driver. “I bet I draw better than all of you so let me do it.” Carlos steps forward to assert himself.
They seem to be on the verge of fighting over who will have the honor of drawing best, or who will draw first. You laugh while calming the situation. "Look, you're all going to be able to draw. We just need some markers." You remark, as you wave to your team in the distance to help you.
It doesn't take long before they arrive with a small pencil case filled with different colored markers. You then sit on a chair in a corner of the garage, the nine drivers around you. Oscar is the first to draw on your cast, while the others are still fighting over who will go second.
In the end, after a good session of laughter and slightly failed drawings, the result is there. Your plaster is decorated with designs, each one as extravagant as the last, but that doesn't matter, because their intention comes from the heart. This sincere gesture will certainly give you courage for the rest of your adventure, you are sure of it.
And as they all give you one last smile, one last hug, they leave to prepare for the approaching race. You end up joining your team further in the VIP stands, ready for the start of the race. “What a beautiful cast” Your engineer nods at the magnificent designs on your arm, and you smile. “Beautiful may not be the word, but it’s very precious to me for sure.”
And as you share a laugh, the red lights go out, as the din of cars echoes throughout the circuit. For a moment, everything seems wonderful. It's crazy how a simple little attention like drawings can brighten up your day a little more. And can also brighten up the day of others, like those of your fans for example...
yourusername just posted !
liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and others...
yourusername: maybe no more arm but at least I have my handsome boyys ❤️
view comments
danielricciardo: if anyone wonders who drew the beautiful star, it’s me ✌️😁
⤷ landonorris: you wrote on her arm instead of her cast you dickhead
⤷ danielricciardo: I was feeling different 😜
user: Alex just writing his name makes absolutely sense
user: no cuz they're literally the SWEETEST ahww
⤷ yourusername: only oscar cuz he's the one who drew the best
⤷ danielricciardo: but you said it was me earlier
⤷ yourusername: i lied plus you literally drew on my SKIN instead of my cast 😠
landonorris: my girl not giving any credits to my amazing beautiful drawing 💔
⤷ yourusername: yeah cuz you have no talent, keep it up it's awful mate 🔥🔥
⤷ landonorris: hypocrite I hate you
charles_leclerc: take care of yourself y/n ❤️
georgerussell63: I slayed, my drawing is lit
⤷ yourusername: no 🙄🥱
user: i need friends as precious as them, love their friendship !!
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 grid x reader#f1 x you#lando norris x reader#oscar piastri x reader#charles leclerc x reader#carlos sainz x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#george russel x reader#daniel riccardo x reader#max verstappen x reader#alex albon x reader
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i’m definitely projecting BUT i genuinely feel like shy!reader would have wavy hair and be so insecure about it (even tho it’s so pretty) so it’s always straightened but i just know if rafe saw it he’d fall even deeper in love with the girl!
oh 100%. lets project together angel why not. if you dont have wavy hair pls look away im sorry. but i do have wavy hair that i straighten all the time so ! you sent this to the right bitch
your hair, though you've been told so many times was pretty either way, is usually straightened several times a week, if not daily. it's easy to fall into the trap of preferring it sleek and shiny than the waves that were pretty for the first day, frizzy the next, and somehow constantly clashing with the outfit you selected for the day.
you thought straight hair was easier, looked better, went with everything. even if it wasn't true, you had bought into it for long enough, your blowdryer and flat iron your two best friends.
the first time rafe met you, your hair had been straight. it was that way on your first date, as well as your second and third, as well as every sleepover at tannyhill or early morning drive to watch the sunrise at the beach. he'd never seen your hair any other way, not realizing there was, in fact, another way for it to be seen, until today.
you and rafe had spent the first hour of the morning rolling around in his bed at tannyhill, working up a sweat, which then was washed off in the shower together. rafe gets out first, listening to his phone ring repeatedly in the distance. you finish up, washing your hair and turning the water to the hottest setting now that rafe wasn't there to complain.
when you walk back to rafe's room, he's on the bed, still on the phone. you try to dry yourself off and get dressed without giving him too much of a show, settling for one of rafe's old frat shirts and using another shirt of his to start drying your hair. he looks at confused, but you don't say anything, knowing he's still on the phone. you need at least a minute to explain cotton t-shirts and scrunching to him.
rafe finally hangs up the call with barry while you rummage through your overnight bag, realizing your flat iron and blow dryer were left behind on your bathroom counter, a result of finishing up your hair for your date yesterday.
"is sarah home?" you ask, looking up at rafe.
"don't think so. and didn't i give you a towel? why's my shirt on your head right now?"
"i forgot my hair stuff at home."
"oh," he says, walking back to his dresser and returning with something in his hand. "here." he hands you a hairbrush.
"what am i supposed to do with this?"
"you said you needed hair stuff. uh, you're welcome."
"i have a brush, rafe. i meant my dryer and my iron. do you think sarah would be mad if i used hers? is that weird, though?"
he didn't think it was that serious, but you look more upset by the second.
"what'd you need that shit for? we're not going anywhere until lunch. it'll dry by then." you stand up, taking the hair out of his shirt and trying to salvage whatever waves remained.
"i wanted to wear it straight for the club, though. my outfit, it looks better with straight hair-"
"huh?"
"and i didn't even detangle or use that conditioner, it's all at home. ugh." you keep scrunching, going to the mirror and taking a look. rafe follows behind you, eyebrows knitted in confusion while he takes a piece of curly hair between his fingers. it's pretty, the way it falls around your face and certain pieces are curlier than others. you look pretty like this, though he's sure you look pretty any which way.
"how come i didn't know your hair's like this?"
"um, i like it flat. do i have to go to the club like this?"
"i like it. s'pretty. c'mon, leave it."
you turn to face your boyfriend. like everyone else, he's just saying it to be nice.
"will you take me home to grab my stuff? please?"
"if you really want it, kid, but i think you should leave it," rafe says, bringing his hand up to your hair, stroking the pieces by your face, twirling a wave around his finger. "c'mon, for me?"
you hesitate, looking up at your boyfriend.
"but i wanna look nice for the club."
"the fuck are you talkin' about? you always look nice."
"but it's not as nice. it's messy. i like it-" rafe interrupts you, bringing his hand to your jaw the way he always does, squeezing tight but not too tight.
"stop. it looks nice. stop overthinkin' it. got it?" you nod. "s'nice. you should wear it like this more often."
"sure. whatever you say."
"that's right."
#btw is this the same anon who sent another ask in the pink font? my pink anon?#also im so sorry if this wasnt what you wanted its just what came to mind !#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#shy reader
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nsfw links | kpop gg edition
🎀 : itzy’s ryujin and yuna, twice’s jihyo / nayeon / momo / sana, blackpink’s jennie and rosé, le sserafim’s yunjin, newjeans’ minji.
📝 : request? yes! to be able to accommodate everyone’s preferences, i included both male and fem povs!
[link] - it was one of ryujin’s old guilty pleasures but she always dreamt of you fucking her with a strap, letting you customize the cock on your own.
[link] - you and ryujin both are equally as freaky as each other so you both invested on buying flimsy costumes and camera equipment to film and post them online.
[link] - for you, yuna would be a whore for you and only for you, loving to have yours and her cunts together as you both grinded against each other.
[link] - yuna liked to get on top of you, kissing you for how long she wanted before she rode you until you came inside of her.
[link] - jihyo loves it when she’s on top because you loved watching her tits bounce as she rode you, hands always reaching up to slap and grope them.
[link] - it wasn’t a secret that you were obsessed with jihyo’s tits, always liking to have them in your hands and even in your mouth at the same time.
[link] - nayeon had always been the freaky one between you to so she asked nicely for you to use her tits to be able to make yourself cum.
[link] - most of the time, nayeon always begs you to be mean to her despite your naturally nice and gentle nature not until you showed her what she was asking for.
[link] - momo is a sucker for your tits, she wouldn’t waste a second to get her hands and mouth on you, not even caring if there was a fabric barrier between her mouth and your tits.
[link] - just to please you and your requests, momo obliged in letting you use her as she slept, not caring if you made a mess on her or the sheets.
[link] - the best thing to wake up to is your girlfriend using your face to get herself off, that’s why sana lets you use her whenever you please.
[link] - sana knows how much you are obsessed when you let her ride you, taking the reins as sana rode you until her heart was content.
[link] - all rosé wanted was for you to have a mouthful of her tits, sucking on then as she rode your thigh.
[link] - rosé had told you before that she was a squirter so you tested her abilities while touching her in places she liked– only to prove that her word was real.
[link] - jennie didn’t exactly like it when you both took turns to ride each other because she thought it was better to 69 each other but you wanted to change her mind.
[link] - testing your patience, jennie used your cock for her own pleasure, not caring if you asked her if you could cum, constantly riding and using you until she came repeatedly all over you.
[link] - yunjin was shy about it but her one request was for you to make her squirt and make a mess all over the bed— and of course, her.
[link] - it was no secret that yunjin liked to get tied up because once you tried it on her, yunjin always begged you to do it when you’re both horny.
[link] - just to please you after minji riled you up in public, she knew better than to touch you in public but in the restroom instead where she could hear your muffled whimpers.
[link] - not even the location could make minji stop from relieving her urges, somehow getting you suckling on her tits as minji whimpered as she stayed on the lookout.
© RATEDFLEUR — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
#mikha’s works#kpop smut#kpop hard hours#kpop hard thoughts#kpop girl group smut#kpop gg#girl group x reader#girl group smut#kpop girl group#itzy#itzy smut#twice#twice smut#blackpink#blackpink smut#le sserafim#le sserafim smut#newjeans#newjeans smut
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Your writing is so damn good, you execute every request perfectly 😭
Could you maybe write something where Dick's insecure partner wants to break up with him because their self-image is getting worse cause they feel they can't catch up to the Golden Boy reputation, superheroes, billionaires and so on?
hi, thanks for the request! I hope I did it justice :) a brief interlude from jaytodd before we return to our regularly scheduled program lol
dick grayson x gn!reader. low self esteem, an almost breakup, reader feeling insecure, threatened, sad. happy ending! 2.1k words
****
You've been tugging at your outfit for ten minutes. At this rate, you'll have to concede that this is as good as it's going to get.
"My love, you almost ready?"
You sigh and watch your reflection fold its arms.
"Yeah," you say softly. "'M ready."
The door opens. Your heart swoops.
Dick is beautiful, as usual. Your boyfriend can do a lot, including fill a suit. Both your and his outfits were tailor-made because that's one of the perks of being the son of a billionaire.
Over and over, you'd insisted you could wear off-the-rack, and over and over, Dick had said that was silly, that Bruce wouldn't mind.
And it's true that what you're wearing flatters you better than anything from Macy's or Marshall's would've. But you know it won't help tonight. Not in a room full of Gotham's elite.
"Just as I suspected," Dick says, immediately draping his arms over your hips. "You're gonna steal the show tonight."
He's lying.
That voice in your head has gotten louder recently, and you don't know how to turn it off.
You kiss him instead of responding. Dick enthusiastically reciprocates, always delighted when you touch him. You used to think it would be enough.
But ever since you found out that not only are you dating a billionaire philanthropist with a face that makes angels weep, but that said guy is also arguably the most beloved hero in Gotham, maybe second only to the Batman (who's his freaking dad?!), you've begun to have doubts.
You pull back. Dick's tie perfectly sets off his eyes. They're bright as they look at you.
"Everything okay?" he asks, brushing your cheek with his thumb.
"Uh-huh," you say, trying to smile. "Just nervous."
“Hey, it's alright. I'll be by your side all night. I'll save you from any and all small talk, promise." He winks. "And we can duck out early, get hot chocolate from that place you like. They won't care."
Dick's always doing that. Always catering to you. You're just some nobody who happened to stumble into the best relationship you’ve ever had with a golden god.
Dick never reminds you of that. That he could do better. He doesn't have to—you know it all on your own.
You swallow. “Okay. If you're sure. I... I would like to leave early, Gray."
“‘Course, baby,” Dick says, attaching his cuff links. "Anything you want."
You turn back to the mirror, wondering if you can reinvent your personality before you go and remind everyone what a mistake Dick Grayson has made in choosing you.
****
The party is tasteful, though a little stuffy. You're only here because Dick is going to give a speech, and he asked you to come support him. And while you know it's better for him to go without you so you won't dull his shine, it seems Dick hasn't quite figured that out.
You hold onto Dick’s arm as he makes his usual rounds. Dick doesn't enjoy these events, you know that, but he's fluid in his interactions. There is no doubt he’s Bruce Wayne’s prodigy. With his suit, his hair, his easy posture, Dick is almost unrecognizable from when you woke up with him this morning.
He's in his element. All you can do is peer in and watch.
Dick leans in and slips a hand around your waist after the fourth interaction with a donor. A donor who, again, acted like Dick may as well have been dragging around a coat rack with how intently they ignored you. Not that you give a shit about what the one percent have to say about you, except sometimes they say a lot of mean things, things you're pretty sure they don't let Dick overhear, and sometimes you start wondering if Dick is the only person who can't see truth in what they say, and sometimes—
“Hey.” Dick leans in to talk in your ear. He's warm and solid. You wish that was a comfort. “You okay?”
You're exhausted.
“Uh-hmm.”
He is going to wake up one of these days and realize he can have it so much better.
Dick moves like he's about to say more, pull you closer and permeate your senses with his gold.
“Dickie!”
Sweet, tinkling laughter echoes across the room. The crowd parts for this new woman, an obvious socialite, dressed to the nines and gorgeous.
Her dress matches Dick's tie. You feel sick.
When she reaches you two, she wastes no time grabbing Dick and kissing his cheek. He extricates himself from her, like he's done a million times before with everyone else who thinks they're entitled to a piece of Dick Grayson. He shoots you an apologetic look. You look away.
“My God, it’s been what, ten years?” she says. Then she sees you. “Oh! Where are my manners? I’m Caroline Banesbury, Duchess of Middlesworth. I heard the Dickie Grayson was going to be here, and I had to come.”
“Been a while,” Dick says, smiling blandly. “How are you, Caroline?”
“Spectacular! Father just bought another castle. You should come and see it sometime.” She plucks a flute of champagne off of a passing tray and smiles behind the rim of the glass.
“Dick and I go way back,” she says, gaze roving over him. “I hear you're transforming Blüdhaven. Taking a page out of Bruce's book, hm? You always had a big heart, Dickie.”
She grabs his arm and links it with hers. You sigh and take a sip of your own drink. You half-wish Poison Ivy would come in and gas the room or something.
Dick clears his throat and maneuvers out of her grip once more, letting go of her with a light pat. He returns to you, snugly holding your shoulders.
"This is my partner," he says about you.
Caroline hums, looking over you. "I see. Pleasure."
You nod. She turns back to Dick.
“If I can be of any help to your project, you let me know,” she adds, glancing down at where her empty arm now hangs at her side. “Anything.”
“That's generous of you, Carrie.”
Dick and I go way back.
Oh. Right. You're stupid. They've dated.
“We should have dinner,” she continues. “Catch up. I'm dying to know what Gotham's darling has been up to.”
“I feel sick,” you announce.
Dick and Caroline turn to you. Caroline looks perplexed, like you've just said you like to chew concrete.
“Oh, I'm sorry to hear that,” she says, hardly sparing you a glance. "Perhaps you ought to lie down."
You feel Dick's eyes on you. If you don't leave soon, he'll know you're lying. Possibly the worst part about dating Batman's protégé.
Suddenly, leaving this hall is the most important thing you've ever had to do. You feel like you'll die if you don't.
Your feet start moving.
"Baby—"
Anyway, this is Caroline's chance. She can swoop in with her trust fund and while you think Dick can do way better than her—he can always do better—anyone is better than you. For Dick Grayson, who has been a master acrobat since he was a child, son of Batman, leader of the Titans, indubitably intelligent, capable, beautiful, the best goddamn guy you'll ever know—
You've lost your way. You're out of the gala, away from duchesses and doom. And you meant to get your coat but this hall that Bruce rented is enormous. You've no idea where you are. But you're alone.
Bruce must've known too, how unfit you are for his son. And why wouldn't he tell Dick? Unless Dick ignored him, because Dick, for all his smarts, is stupidly in love with you, thinks you're where he should put his heart, is certain you won't fumble and drop it.
Warm, callused fingers catch your wrist and you remember, suddenly, Dick telling you once, after you'd nearly stumbled into the street, that he'd never let you fall.
You meet his eyes. Why does he look at you like that? Who gave him the right to look at you like-like you—as if you could ever deserve—
"Hey," he says, squeezes your hand. "Hey, hey. What's going on?"
Dick Grayson is not a trusting man but he trusts you and good God, you're about to break him.
"I need to break up with you," you blurt.
"What?" he breathes. "What—why would you say that?"
You wish he'd give you the slip he gave everyone in that room, gently separate your arm from his hand. You never learned how to evade Dick's touch.
"Because it's true. Dick, please understand—"
"No, I'm trying to understand. Because yesterday—no, tonight, you were fine—"
"No, Dick, I wasn't fine! I haven't been fine in months!"
You wrench your arm away. He looks like you slapped him.
"You know anybody I talk to in there means nothing, right? You know that, honey." He's pleading.
You curl your fist into your eye. "It's more than that, Gray."
"Then tell me what the problem is," he says desperately. "Tell me and we'll fix it. I promise we can fix it."
"You can't!" you say, voice cracking. "You can't fix me."
Dick shakes his head. "I don't—"
"Why can't you let me break up with you with a little bit of dignity?" you ask. "Do you have to be better at this too?"
"I don't want to break up," he says, tugging at a handful of his hair. "This doesn't make sense. We're happy. You're happy, aren't you? Don't I make you happy?"
"Of course," you choke out. "Of course you make me happy. But you don't see I'm bad for you. You're wonderful and perfect and golden, Dick. And I'm a stain. I need to be scrubbed away."
"Wh—that's not true!"
"Everywhere we go, people see me with you and are immediately confused. I'm not a superhero, I'm not royalty, I'm not a socialite, and yet somehow I've managed to snag Gotham's darling. This is a mistake. I'm trying to do you a favor and wake you up!"
Dick's face is hard with anger. How could you have thought this would be easy?
"I don't need to be woken up! What is it that makes you think I have no agency over the people I choose to spend time with? Everyone I meet thinks they're entitled to touch me, demand me. Everyone but you. You, the person I chose to love, who I love everyday. Do you think you pulled the wool over my eyes and you're snapping me out of it? Is that what you really think?"
And isn't this the most puzzling thing? That he's not sad or gently accepting; Dick is mad.
"I just—" He runs a hand through his hair. "I don't mean to yell, but really, I can't bear it if you see me as some god on a pedestal, unattainable and inhuman, like everyone else sees me. I love you on purpose."
"You're so accomplished, though," you say weakly. "You're..." You wave your hand over him. "You're fucking Nightwing, D. You were Robin, you have superheroes for friends, Batman for a parent, you're beloved by, like, all of Jersey—"
"My love, you know those are just parts of me. You see all of me. You know me. And that's not a one-way privilege, okay? I'm so damn lucky to know you, to love you, to be with you, to fight with you. To fight for you. Knowing you isn't something I take for granted."
"But I'm boring," you say, tears spilling over. "Jesus Christ, Dick, I'm plain and untalented, barely a dime to my name, so painfully ordinary that—"
"Listen to me," he says, taking your face in his hands. "Flying around or shooting lasers out of your eyes, sure, it's cool, and it's helpful for taking down an alien dictator. But I don't need you to do any of that, honey. I don't need nor want you to be anyone but you. I wasn't tricked or swindled into loving you. We caught each other halfway, just like we were meant to."
You let him pull you into his arms, let him press your tear stains to his silk pocket square, let his hair fall around you.
His embrace is solid, firm, but when he inhales, his shoulders shake.
"Do you—" He swallows, throat against yours. "Do you still want to break up?"
His heart beats against your cheek.
"I'm just afraid you'll get tired of me," you whisper. "Bored. Annoyed."
"I won't," he whispers. "You're the least boring person ever. It's never boring to be loved."
You squeeze your eyes shut. Dick's warmth encloses you.
"No, I don't want to break up. I'm sorry."
He holds you tighter, and you realize you never had to match Dick's tie. Not when you've got his heart.
#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson x you#richard grayson x reader#Nightwing x reader#Nightwing x you#Nightwing fanfiction#dick Grayson fanfiction#dick Grayson imagine#Nightwing imagine#batman fanfiction#dc fanfiction#inbox#blurb
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come and get your love
character(s): gojo satoru
synopsis: the one in which your best friend needs only one thing - you. or; the three times he's wanted you, and the one time he got you.
word count: 4k
warning(s): smut
a/n: ALL DAY ALL NIGHT NO LUBE NO PROTECTION PLEASE
requests are open (please request stuff😭) <3
likes, reblogs, and follows are appreciated!
you and gojo satoru were neighbors.
that was how you met in the first place. you were walking home from college, your new dior perfume (which cost a kidney and a half) in one hand, and dinner in the other. you were walking across the corridor-
crash!
a 6"3 blur of white just ran past you, bumping into you and yelling a "sorry!" and muttering something about cursing someone. perfume bottle now in pieces and on the floor, you were pissed - but he was long gone. asshole.
that was the blur you came to know as satoru. while you were eating dinner, satoru had showed up at your door with a bottle of the exact same perfume - not smushed this time. well, maybe he wasn't so bad.
that was the beginning of your friendship.
you invited in the handsome man to thank him, and asked if he wanted to eat anything. he was about to refuse - until he saw the untouched chocolate cake lying in your kitchen. who could say no to that?
that was the first and last time he wasn't a constant pain in your ass. now, he was your self-declared best friend. it's been almost a year since you both first met, and you enjoyed his company a lot more than you'd ever admit. in more ways than one.
the first time:
in this year you'd also discovered something. well, watched it unfold, really. some smartass decided to give gojo satoru an ipad for his birthday. safe to say, he was addicted to it within a day.
he was an actual ipad kid. everytime he came over he'd have his ipad out, playing games or watching something. why he couldn't just use a normal phone or laptop like a normal person was beyond you.
and he never went anywhere without it. he took it to college, and even got it to your house whenever you guys hung out. well, he did just get an ipad, so you could sort of understand it. but still. weirdo.
you both were both going out to a club tonight with all of your friends. you'd finished doing your hair, and you were almost done with your makeup. you still had to wear your dress. you'd decided to go with a sleeveless blue corset dress that reached mid-thigh.
you were done pre-gaming, if you drank anymore you weren't going to get through the night. you were applying your lip liner when you heard a knock on the door. knowing exactly who it was, you went to open it.
the second you opened the door, you slammed it shut. he looked good - he was wearing a white shirt rolled up to his forearms, with the top two buttons undone, and black pants. but that wasn't the problem.
he was wearing a bright blue backpack. a fucking backpack. and you knew exactly what was in it. you had to mentally prepare yourself before you talked him out of it.
"satoru, either you leave the bag or you're not coming."
"but-"
"no, you can't carry an ipad with you to a club."
"okay okay, i'll..." he paused, his eyes moving lower, followed by silence.
"well?" you asked, breaking the pause.
"...that dress looks really good on you" he managed, voice a bit breathier than normal.
"what?" you asked, face now tinged red.
then, he suddenly moved closer and leaned down right next to your ear, his voice a husky murmur that made you shiver. "i said, that dress looks incredible on you," his eyes lingering a beat too long on your curves.
"though, i think it would look even better on my bedroom floor"
your breath hitched in your throat. was he finally making a bolder move on you, one that isn't a really cheesy pick-up line, or a failed attempt at flirting? fuck.
"i think you've pre-gamed a little too hard, satoru," you whispered, the heat in your cheeks betraying you.
he pouted at that, and you almost gave in. his pretty blue eyes wide with hope, and his pouty lips practically begging you to kiss the frown away.
"i'm not drunk!" he protested.
"i know, 'toru, but we've gotta go, come on." it was probably just him being delirious, but you couldn't help the butterflies in your stomach.
but then, at the club, he didn't leave your side on the dance floor even once. he was so close you could feel his body heat, eyes locked in a silent, electrifying conversation. it sent a delicious shiver down your spine.
as he dropped you off, with his voice an octave deeper, he said, "you should wear blue more often." then, he straightened up and went into his house like it was nothing.
collapsing onto the couch, you buried your face in a pillow, the scent of his cologne still lingering on your dress, infiltrating your senses. sleep wouldn't come. all you could see were his stormy blue eyes, filled with unspoken desire - one you tried denying you felt for him, until today.
a muted scream found its way out of your mouth, muffled by the pillow, a delicious mix of frustration and something far more needy. damn him and those strong shoulders that seemed to stretch on forever beneath his thin white shirt, the poor fabric straining against his biceps with every movement.
and his face? his lips, so full and slightly parted, a sinful invitation for you to kiss them, the moonlight casting a sinful glow on the way his jaw clenched with unspoken desire while walking back to the car. you swore he was a walking sculpture come to life, every line and angle sculpted by the gods themselves.
satoru knew he wanted you since the day he met you, your angry pout, yet somehow gentle eyes captivating him. but this was different. his hands on your waist all night, lips only a few inches away from each other, that fucking dress that took his breath away - it felt so intoxicating.
things were going to change between the both of you for the better, he hoped.
the second time:
it had been a week since that night, and now you both were attending suguru's 21st birthday party. you were all going to stay at an expensive hotel in vegas for the whole weekend. god, you loved being friends with rich people.
it was three people per room, and you were all to be assigned your rooms by the birthday boy himself. you read the text he sent. you were paired up with shoko... and satoru. you could already tell this was going to be a long weekend.
the roar of the plane engines on the way there served as a backdrop for the girls' chatter - you included. every few seconds your gaze would flicker to him, seemingly engrossed in his ipad. but his scorching glances that lingered a beat too long told you it was a blatant lie.
he was watching you. watching with an intensity that took your breath away and made your heart rate spike. every laugh shared with the girls, every whispered secret, you knew he was looking. at you.
when the plane finally touched down in vegas, the desert heat slapped you in the face. a wave of relief washed over you when you finally reached the hotel lobby. this place was huge.
as you finished unpacking and settling into the room, shoko decided she wanted to leave and explore the hotel.
"you coming?" she asked both of you.
"be right there!" you replied. you still needed to fix up your outfit and makeup. now the only ones in the room were you and satoru, who claimed he had to freshen up.
as you applied your mascara, you felt his hand right above the waistband of your jeans, fingers barely brushing your hips. but then suddenly, he straightened up, the moment ending all too soon.
"sorry!" he said, batting his long eyelashes at you and acting oh-so-innocent. oh, he had started dangerous game.
the rest of the afternoon was a blur. you all unpacked, shared stories and spent the entire day lounging around. as the sun set, you went to change your clothes into something more fitting for the casino.
you picked a short, black dress this time, neckline dipping just a little bit too low, knowing he'd be looking at you. the dress clung to you like a second skin. you were a sight to see in that outfit - it was even better than your last one.
you ended up at the bar, the air thick with the mingled scent of expensive liquor and something far more intoxicating. just then, a rather handsome man approached you, his voice smooth and deep. he asked you if you would like a drink.
you decided to have a little fun and play along, enjoying the blatant display of interest - but you were very aware of satoru's gaze piercing into you. his jaw was clenched tight, eyes narrowed a fraction. his stare was so intense it sent chills down your spine.
you took a sip of your drink, eyes meeting satoru's across the room. a slow smile spread across your lips, he definitely wouldn't back down now. not when you looked that divine. not when you had that scum talking to you.
you continued sipping your drink and listening to the man's attempt at smooth talking you. you decided you'd had enough for now, so you excused myself and headed towards the ground floor balcony. you didn't have to look back to know satoru was following you.
the cool desert air on the balcony offered a welcome respite. the real thrill came in the form of satoru, appearing beside you. he looked amazing, navy blue suit doing nothing to hide his body. you were positive he wasn't real.
"need some fresh air?" he asked, clearly trying to act nonchalant.
"oh, something like that" you replied, a playful smile dancing on your lips. "maybe i just needed a moment to appreciate the view... besides the one inside, you know."
he grinned, tilting his head and leaning down so that he could look directly into your eyes from above his sunglasses, "don't think i haven't noticed what you're up to" he said, his voice a husky murmur.
a warmth flared through you, and a barely concealed smile of triumph found its way onto your face. mission accomplished.
"that dress is making it impossible to breathe, impossible to think of anything else but you. makes me wanna forget this whole damn night and just..." he trails off, gaze flickering to your lips, then back to your eyes.
fuck it, he won. you leaned in closer, the distance between your lips shrinking with every passing second. this was it. you were so close, your lips inches away from-
"there you two are. everyone's looking for you, let's go dance."
your softly sighed in frustration. satoru straightened up, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features before they returned to his normal wide grin.
"didn't know you were looking for us! let's go," he replied.
you grabbed shoko's arm and went to the dance floor, thoughts of satoru and how he was so close you almost had his lips on yours on you on your mind as you tried to dance the night away.
the rest of the weekend unfolded in a blur of flashing lights and pounding music. you were in a group, inseparable yet frustratingly apart. every stolen touch, every lingering look, felt like a secret whispered in a crowded room. but in the end, the chance for a private conversation never materialized again.
the third time:
two weeks after the party, you all met up at shoko's house. you left to go upstairs and find the bathroom. when you came back down, everyone had started a water fight in the backyard. you left them alone for two minutes.
you walked out, only to get drenched from head to toe almost instantly. you were going to kill suguru for soaking your new gray shirt, which was now see through.
you spotted satoru amidst everyone, his stare locked onto your chest. you were wearing sky blue lingerie. it was a blatant stare - raw, and hungry. it gave you goosebumps. it wasn't planned, but god, you were glad it happened. you set a mental reminder to thank geto.
before you could do anything, his eyes shifted back up, meeting yours. a flicker of apology danced in his gaze, quickly overshadowed by something much deeper.
suddenly remembering where you are, you sneakily grabbed the nearest water balloon, a mischievous glint in your eyes. you aimed square at his torso. the balloon hit satoru's chest with a loud slap!
if your shirt was soaked, it was only fair that his was too, right? now he was completely wet. bull's eye.
he sputtered, the shock quickly giving way to a wide, mischievous grin. water dripped down his face, tracing a path along the sharp line of his jaw and disappearing down his neck to his abs.
oh. his abs. the sight alone drenched you in a place where the water balloon didn't. he shook himself off with a laugh, raising his hands in surrender and unintentionally flexing his biceps. oh wow.
this time, though, his eyes remained fixed on yours with an intensity that almost had you gasping for air. you both continued to drown each other, competing to see who caused the most damage.
as the sun started to set, you all started leaving. you and satoru said your goodbyes to shoko and started walking towards the car, talking about how fun the day was.
you stole a glance at satoru. his drenched t-shirt clung to his broad frame, outlining the way his muscles flexed with every step. your cheeks burned at the memory of his stare, the way his gaze had lingered on your tits, making your face heat up.
"think you'll survive the drive home like that? i did do some damage, you know," he teasingly asked, amusement evident in his voice.
"oh i will, don't you worry, princess," you replied. "just more proof that i completely demolished your snow white ass." he laughed at that, smile making him glow even more in the golden hour lighting. you both continued bantering until you reached the basement and he parked the car.
you were walking towards your apartment. you tilted your head up, a playful shine in your eyes. "so," you started, "what do you say we call a truce until next time? and then winner takes it all."
a slow smile spread across his face. he leaned in ever so slightly, his lips hovering a tantalizing distance from yours. the scent of his cologne, somehow still present, invaded your senses completely.
"truce it is" he conceded, "but winner gets any prize of their choice," he said with a slight smirk.
"oh? and how do you propose we decide this prize?" you asked, indulging him.
he chuckled, the sound warm and inviting. "let's just say," he leaned in again, close enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek again, "i have a few ideas in mind."
you slowly tilted your head upwards and batted your eyelashes, leaning into him before saying "mm, goodnight, 'toru." you let your gaze shift to his full lips before meeting his eyes.
but you pulled away before he could make a move. you relished in the look on his face - like a man starved, eyes filled with a desperate need. for you. you played off your own need for him with a teasing, innocent smile as you entered your apartment.
the fourth time:
satoru was a wreck. the usual carefree, playful glint in his eyes was replaced by sadness, his usual smile replaced by a deep pout. he was draped in a giant, fuzzy blanket, clutching a tub of ice cream like a lifeline. the culprit? a broken ipad.
how he managed to break it beyond repair was quite impressive, actually.
'good riddance,' you thought, thinking about his avid screen addiction.
but the sight of him trudging around your apartment like a kicked puppy, a half-eaten tub of ice cream clutched in one hand and a giant blanket draped over his broad shoulders - you almost felt bad.
you turned on the tv, hoping to distract him, but the suggestion was met with a watery glare and a choked sob. "it's not the same," he moaned, his voice thick with despair, "nothing can make me forget about my broken heart," he sighed.
what a drama queen.
you stifled a smile, the jab dying on your tongue. this wasn't like satoru. this was a whole new level of gloominess. it was kind of adorable, actually. he slumped onto the couch, sitting next to you, the oversized blanket engulfing him like a cocoon of misery.
hesitantly, you reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead. his skin was warm beneath your touch, and his eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, were clouded with a vulnerability you would never guess was caused by an ipad of all things.
"maybe you need a different kind of distraction," you murmured, voice barely above a whisper.
he turned towards you, gaze locking onto yours. you swore you saw a hint of something other than vulnerability - something that made the butterflies in your stomach flutter. the air hung heavy with the weight of what you said.
neither of you moved, still maintaining eye contact.
"you sure about what you're asking for?" he asked softly, already leaning in towards you.
your gaze flickered from his perfect lips, full and inviting, to the hint of stubble darkening his jawline. every fiber of your being yearned to bridge the gap, to kiss him like you needed to.
"positive," you breathed, neediness evident in your tone.
the space between you vanished in a blink. he leaned in, breath warm against your lips as he filled up the space between you. one hand cupped your cheek, touch surprisingly gentle in contrast to the primal need in his eyes.
his lips met yours with a hunger that stole your breath away, the taste of him a delicious combination of cookie dough from the ice cream, and something else, something so... satoru.
his hand on your face deepened its hold, his thumb tracing a path down your jawline in a slow, deliberate caress. you mirrored the movement, fingers tangling themselves in the soft fabric of his t-shirt, desperate to feel the solid warmth of his body against yours.
the kiss deepened, a tangle of limbs and breathless gasps. his hand moved lower, the thin fabric of your shirt allowing you to feel the searing heat of his palm on your back, his lips moving perfectly against yours
your breath hitched as his hand went under your shirt to grip your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. as much as you wanted to continue, the heat pooling in your lower stomach became harder and harder to ignore with every passing second.
you broke apart from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting you both.
"bedroom" you breathed, not wanting to spend another second without his lips on yours.
you closed the gap between you both, desperate to taste him again. you felt both one arm hook under your thighs as he lifted you up, never once breaking the kiss, other hand remaining on your jaw, picking you up like it was nothing.
he pressed you up against every wall on the way to the room, lips practically devouring you. your nails dug into the muscles of his back, urging him closer, closer. you were definitely going to leave marks.
he chuckled in pride at the thought of that, a low rumble against your lips that made your skin tingle, before pulling back just enough to trail a searing kiss down your jawline. he nipped at your neck before biting it. hard. he continued until he was positive you would see them for the rest of the week.
you felt his cock growing under you. your breath hitched in excitement as his lips dipped lower, sending shivers dancing across the exposed skin of your shoulders. and finally, you reached your room.
you were a trembling mess, body aching in anticipation and need for him.
in the dim light of the moon filtering through the window, he looked like an angel - chest heaving, lips swollen from all the kissing, eyes almost black with desire - all for you.
he placed you onto the bed, getting up to take off his shirt. you let your eyes wander, drinking in the sight of him. he was heavenly. toned muscles glistening with a light sheen of sweat from the heat, hair disheveled from you running your hands through it and tugging at it.
you sat up to take your shirt off, but he interjected. "let me," he whispered, "been waiting for this for so long, fuck."
he stared at you, fully naked underneath him. hair spread out on your pillow, lips still wet from his hungry kisses, eyes focused only on him. you looked divine, he was convinced this moment wasn't real.
he took off his shorts and boxers, and-
oh fuck. he was huge. and just as pretty as the rest of him. veins ran up and down the length of his throbbing cock, tip flushed pink - almost red, and leaking pre-cum. because of you.
you had to taste him. as you reached out, he stopped you. "i'd love that, but not today," he choked out, voice deep and filled with desperation, "if i'm not inside you within the next minute, i might actually lose my mind," he groaned.
the last of your resolve crumbling, "then fuck me, 'toru, please" you whined, pulling him down into a searing kiss.
he lined up with your entrance, pushing in just the tip. you felt stretched out already. "'s too big" you cried out. "aw, you can take it pretty girl," he cooed. he was barely inside but it just felt so good. you needed more.
you bucked your hips up a little bit, a silent plea. taking the message, he bottomed out in a single thrust, causing you to moan his name. "shit baby. keep saying my name like that and i'm not gonna last long" he grunted, pulling almost fully out of you.
your mind was consumed with only him. satoru, satoru, satoru - fuck, you couldn't get enough. he was practically splitting you in half with his cock, but you took it like a good girl. his good girl.
"fuck, you're takin' me so well. god, look at you, my perfect girl" you reveled in the praise, mind almost numb from how well he was fucking you, cock drilling into your dripping cunt like a man deprived.
"y'know how long i've waited for this? to have you all spread out f'me? oh, you're such a damn tease, doll. you knew exactly what you were doin', hah? wearin' that damn blue dress, and blue lingerie f'me too? what a slut."
his words sent a heat flooding through you - warm, plush walls clamping down on him, moans and whines ripping from your throat, so cock drunk all you could say was his name.
"mm, y-you weren't so innocent either, y'know" you bit back, whines escaping your throat.
"shit, wanted you since i first met you, baby. you drive me fuckin' insane" he choked out, voice getting raspier. he was a vision. muscles flexing so deliciously with every thrust of his hips, teeth biting on his lip as he moaned out your name, eyes looking only at you.
god, he really was perfect. he leaned down to kiss you again, a hand finding its way to your tits. he caressed it, playing with your nipple while fucking you. you were so painfully close.
his balls slapping against your ass, cock pushing into you with a force only he could possess. you loved the feeling of how right he felt inside you, the squelching sound of your pussy fluttering around him as he relentlessly thrust into you driving you both to the edge.
"s'toru i'm- 'm gonna- hngh" you clenched down on him impossibly tighter as you came. he came after a few more thrusts, release mixing with yours and seeping down onto your now very stained sheets.
he collapsed down next to you, an arm around your waist, pulling you to face him. it was such a stark contrast - two minutes ago he was fucking you like there was no tomorrow, and now here he was, looking at you with a dopey smile on his face and a shine in his bright blue irises.
you couldn't help but grin back. you stayed like that until you caught your breaths, heartbeats slowly returning back to normal.
"so, since the day you first met me, huh?" you asked, a playful smile finding its way onto your face. you were met with a blush of embarrassment spreading across his cheeks. only satoru could go from the epitome of a sex god to a flustered mess within two minutes.
"mhm, been obsessed with you since i first saw that look on your face when i broke your expensive perfume. that was hot. but then, i got to know you better, and you were so sweet and funny and so goddamn pretty and i- i just couldn't help but... you know." he admitted, eyes averting from yours.
you gripped his jaw, making him look at you again. and then you kissed him - a soft, tender one, pouring in all of your emotions. you wanted him to know you reciprocated his emotions.
"good, because i felt the same way 'toru" you smiled against his lips.
"well what took you so long then?"
"what took me so long? what about you?"
"you're the one who liked me," he replied, as if it was oh-so-obvious.
"well you liked me first satoru!" you sassed, trying to turn away from him.
he pulled you back and made you face him again, grip on your waist never faltering.
"so, round two?"
bonus points if you can guess where the title's from ;)
the ipad kid part is kinda random but i totally think he'd be one soo
this took me so long to write, i hope you guys liked it!
#anathema writes#jujutsu kaisen#gojo jjk#gojo smut#gojo x reader#jjk gojo#jjk satoru#gojou satoru x reader#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#satoru smut#gojo x reader smut#satoru gojo smut#jjk smut#jjk#jjk x reader
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Continuing on with my baby fever I came across videos of parents "laying" (softly hovering) on their babies lap to see their reaction. Some babies are gentle with one parent and push of the other parent. But I wanna see how Eliza would react to the entire Munson family doing this. Thank you!
Baby fever you say? 👀 Step into my office…
Honestly, looking up reference videos for this fic was the most heart melting thing ever and I thank you for bringing that into my life. I hope I have done this justice for you!
Words: 3.1k
[As You Wish masterlist]
“Ugh,” Luke groans as he flops down on the floor of Eliza’s nursery. The Minnie Mouse shirt and pair of toddler jeans he’s holding smack him in the face as his dramatics bring him down.
Eliza sits on her miniature butterfly couch and watches her brother, face stoic as the two-year-old is used to the theatrics he’s inherited from their father.
“What is taking so long?” Ryan strolls into the room and leans against the door jamb. He crosses his arms over his chest and arches an eyebrow as he clocks his brother on the ground.
Flinging the articles of clothing behind him, Luke huffs and turns his head to meet Ryan’s questioning look.
“Every outfit I pick out she doesn’t like!”
Heaving a loud sigh, Ryan saunters over to the closet tucked into the corner of the pink room. Curious as to what he’s doing, Eliza cranes her neck in an attempt to see past her oldest brother. Try as she might though, she doesn’t have x-ray vision and has to wait for Ryan to turn around to see the black and white striped dress and pastel green sweater.
“Eh?” Ryan raises his eyebrows as he holds the items out towards the toddler.
Keeping her chin high, little Eliza looks over the proposed outfit before nodding her affirmation once.
“What?” Luke shouts as he bolts upright. “The Minnie Mouse shirt is way better!”
Ryan throws a smirk over his shoulder at his younger brother as he helps Eliza get changed into the winning look of the day.
“She must love me more.”
“Uh, no,” Eliza hums as her head pops free from the confines of the dress. “Better clothes.”
Luke cackles with laughter, arms crossing against his stomach as he falls on his back once more.
“Oh, that’s too good! Please, we all know I’m her favorite,” Luke says.
At only two-years-old Eliza is already used to her brothers competing in almost every aspect of life. She rolls her doe brown eyes and allows Ryan to help her into the green sweater before leaving the two boys alone in her room.
“I seem to recall us having this argument before and Grandpa somehow coming out the winner,” Ryan says, following the little girl’s lead and heading towards the door.
“Well,” Luke says, stretching out the word as he scrambles to push himself up into a standing position, “then this time we don’t allow him to be part of our bet.”
The older Munson brother shakes his head in amusement as he walks out into the hall and to the right, towards the rest of the house. Luke is right behind him though, practically nipping at his heels as he waits for some kind of response.
“What bet?” Ryan asks, stepping into the kitchen.
“Yeah, what bet?” Eddie echoes, eyeing his two sons over his “#1 Dad” coffee mug where he leans against the counter.
“Seeing who Eliza’s favorite is. And not Grandpa this time,” Luke informs his dad as he slides into a chair at the table.
“I believe that would be me,” you say with a proud smirk, traipsing in from the living room with an empty sippy cup. “I just turned on Rolie Polie Olie for her.”
“No one can compete with the Rol,” Eddie jokes, giving you a playful wink and a smile.
“She definitely loves that show more than she loves any of us,” Ryan says. He yanks the refrigerator door open and stares inside as if something new is magically going to appear before his eyes.
“I bet I could interrupt it and she’d be okay with it,” your husband says. “And will you either grab something out of the fridge or close the damn door?”
“So, you’re saying you’re the favorite, Dad?” Luke asks, eyebrows disappearing into the curls that are getting too long for his liking.
“Isn’t that old news?” Eddie asks with a smirk as he walks over to grab Luke’s box of Lucky Charms.
“Everything about you is old,” Ryan says.
The joke has your hand slipping, causing the apple juice you were refilling Eliza’s sippy cup with to spill all over the counter. Avoiding Eddie’s eyes, you try to hide your snort of laughter as you grab a towel to mop up the mess. Once the sippy cup is successfully filled up, you turn back towards the living room—Eddie’s eyes still firmly burning your back—and go to give your daughter her drink.
“Didn’t we already do this? I feel like we played this game before,” you say. “Eliza picked Wayne over all of us.”
Eddie shrugs and takes another sip of his coffee. “No beating the old man. The actual old man.” Eddie narrows his eyes at Ryan, who just chuckles in return.
“No,” Luke says. He shakes his head as he lets the marshmallow cereal fall into his bowl. “We have to know who her favorite in the house is.”
“Any ideas?” Ryan asks, plopping down in the seat across the table from his little brother.
“Hmm,” Luke hums as he chews on a bite of his breakfast. “I’ll brainstorm at school today.”
In the end, it’s you who comes up with the idea that sets the competition into motion. Once Eddie heads out to work and the boys to school, you realize how much you’re able to get done around the house because Eliza is thoroughly hypnotized by her favorite show. It’s not until the hour of Rolie Polie Olie is done that Eliza is running around the house, wanting to play with every toy under the roof.
After dinner that night, and once Eliza is in bed, you bring your idea up to the boys.
“So, like, we take turns? One person a day?” Luke asks.
You nod in confirmation.
“Right. Because if we all did it one after the other on the same day, she’d get cranky and it wouldn’t be fair for whoever goes last.”
“What, we like, pick straws?” Ryan asks. “Then someone goes Tuesday, then Wednesday...?”
“I’m game,” Eddie says. He lifts one flannel-clad arm and rests it behind you on the couch, giving you the perfect opportunity to snuggle into his side.
“So…” Luke muses as he walks over to the couch and takes a seat next to you, on the opposite side of Eddie. “We just put our heads in her lap like this?” The younger Munson boy demonstrates by laying his curly head on your thighs, staring up at you with wide blue eyes.
“Exactly,” you say, reaching down to boop the tip of his nose. “See if she cuddles you or pushes you off. And then we’ll see who she has the best reaction to.”
“I like it,” Ryan says.
“Me too,” Luke agrees. “Ryan, go get straws. Cut one short!”
With an irritated eye roll, Ryan does as his little brother says, feet shuffling along the carpet as he goes.
The plan springs into action the next day. According to the laws of the straws, Ryan was up first. Followed by Luke, you, and then Eddie rounds it out.
Tuesday morning starts off like every other weekday, everyone running through their routines to get ready for whatever lies ahead for them that day. Once Eliza is dressed in her purple long sleeve shirt, pink overalls, and her morning apple juice is finished, it’s time for the games to begin.
You, Eddie, and Luke watch as inconspicuously as you can from the kitchen entryway as Ryan approaches the couch. Your daughter’s eyes never leave the little yellow robots, even as her oldest brother kneels on the dusty-brown cushion next to her and keeps scooting closer.
Eliza’s leaning back, her legs out straight in front of her, and Ryan takes advantage of the open space to lay his head right down on her little knees. The two-year-old just seems confused at first. She looks down at Ryan, back up to Rolie, down to Ryan, up to Rolie, then back down to Ryan again. After staring down at her big brother for a little while, Eliza reaches for his head and begins to card her tiny fingers through his golden-brown locks. Her hands continue the movements even as she turns her attention back to the television screen. Ryan can’t help but smile; it actually feels really nice. She keeps up the motions until there’s a commercial. Then Ryan rolls on his back to look up at her and she giggles down at him in return, not sure what he’s doing, but happy to have his attention.
“Do you want me to stay?” Ryan asks.
Instead of answering verbally, Eliza wraps her arms around her big brother’s neck and settles back against the cushions.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Ryan says with a chuckle, before adding under his breath, “and as a win.”
Wednesday, it’s Luke’s turn. Once Eliza’s got her favorite show on and a cup of apple juice in her, he makes his move. It’s clear from the moment Luke’s head hits her lap that Eliza is in a feistier mood today. Whether she woke up like that or Luke brings it out of her is anyone’s guess.
“Ow,” Luke groans as two small hands beat down on the side of his head as if it’s a drum. The boy winces, face scrunching up, but as you watch him alongside Eddie and Ryan from around the corner, you can tell Luke is trying to stick it out and see if he can somehow salvage a win. There’s a brief glimmer of hope when Eliza stops percussing on her brother’s head. However, it’s short-lived.
Short, stubby fingers make their way up to Luke’s curls and the youngest Munson boy breathes a sigh of relief, seeing as how gentle the toddler was with Ryan’s hair the day before. The problem, they discover, is that since Luke’s curls are far tighter than his older brother’s, Eliza’s fingers quickly get caught in them.
“Oh, please no,” Luke murmurs, but it’s too late.
Eliza tries to yank her hands free, frustrated that her fingers can’t run smoothly through his locks like she did for their eldest sibling. She pulls Luke’s hair while letting out her own whine.
“Ouch! Why are you whining? I’m the one who’s about to be bald!”
Next to you, Eddie lets out a snort of laughter.
“Bald?” Eddie says. “Wayne? That you?”
Giving a roll of your eyes, you gently swat at his stomach. Luke also hears his dad’s remark and gives him a glare from the couch as he tries to wrestle himself free from the toddler’s grip.
Finally, Eliza is able to slip her hands free from the rat’s nest that’s become of Luke’s hair—thanks to her. She’s thoroughly annoyed now and grumbles a few low groans, giving up on words completely. If she were old enough to know swear words, she’d definitely be using those.
Luke breathes a sigh of relief and raises a hand to rub at his sore scalp. Before he can make contact though, both of Eliza’s hands splay flat on the back of his skull and she gives a hard shove. The implication is clear: get off my lap.
Not willing to risk any more of her tiny wrath, Luke rolls off her and off the couch altogether. He lands with a thud on the carpet and gets the chance to rub at his head at last. His eyes narrow as he looks up at Eliza, who is no longer paying him any mind. She’s immersed in Rolie Polie Olie once again, the rest of the world forgotten.
Your youngest son pushes himself to his feet with a huff. He shuffles back towards the kitchen, back towards the rest of you.
“I don’t wanna hear it,” he mumbles as he passes, heading straight for the fridge.
To Eddie and Ryan’s credit, they do both stay silent as the three of you turn to watch Luke yank a Yoo-Hoo out of the refrigerator and pop the top. He chugs down half the bottle before wiping his mouth off on the back of his hand.
“Ugh,” Luke says with a sigh as he heads toward the hallway. “It’s not even 8 am yet.”
With both of the boys’ attempts out of the way, you’re up. You debate going in straight for the lap when you give her the purple sippy cup of apple juice, but something tells you that you’d end up with a wet and sticky face though. Instead, you wait until most of the beverage is gone and she’s let the bottle roll out of her hand onto the cushion next to her.
“Good luck, babe,” Eddie says, giving your ass a pat before you walk out into the living room.
As soon as your knee touches the couch, the television show your daughter is so transfixed on goes to commercial. She turns her head to look at you, large brown eyes sparkling with curiosity.
You freeze, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. It’s odd to be struck still and silent by your two-year-old, but here you are. Rolie Polie Olie being on a commercial break could either make or break this for you.
“Mama!” Eliza chirps.
A breath loses from your chest, and you give her a grin as you move to lay your head on her little legs. The moment your body makes contact with hers, Eliza’s arms encircle you as much as they possibly can, and she leans down to rest her head against yours. Her cheek smooshes against yours, her chin bumping into the corner of your eye.
Warmth floods through you, your heart growing three sizes as she lays all her body weight against yours.
“Hold on,” you hear Luke mutter from the kitchen, “wait to see what happens when the show comes back.”
There are only about forty-five seconds until just that happens.
Eliza’s skin brushes against your cheek as she adjusts her head to get a better view of the television, but otherwise stays where she is. In fact, it feels as if she cuddles into you even further as she settles in to watch her favorite show.
“Oh, come on,” you hear Luke complain. The twelve-year-old is clearly not happy that he is losing this competition so far. It’s not as if Eliza could be bribed, though. Luckily, toddlers haven’t been corrupted by life yet.
Luke walks into the room and stands at the side of the couch, hands resting on his hips.
“Comfy, are we?” he asks.
It’s evident your daughter is quite cozy as she doesn’t look up at her brother or move for the rest of the episode.
“All right,” Eddie says, rubbing his hands together. “Saved the best for last.”
“Debatable,” Ryan says as he chomps on a granola bar.
Your husband flicks Ryan’s black-rimmed glasses so they slide down his nose. With a huff that sounds far more sophisticated than one coming from a fourteen-year-old, your son shakes it off.
“Ready?” you ask, slipping your arms around Eddie’s waist.
“Always up for snuggles with my girls.”
A wet, smacking kiss is placed on your cheek, and you let out a soft giggle.
“Gross,” Luke groans.
“I know you are, but what am I?” Eddie taunts, proving he’s as mature as his adolescent sons.
You let your arms drop from around his middle and you cup Eddie’s cheeks.
“Go get her,” you say.
He pecks your lips before heading out into the living room.
Eliza is as entranced as always in her cartoon and Eddie takes advantage of that by silently sidling up to her. She doesn’t even realize he’s there until the couch dips next to her and her empty sippy cup rolls until it meets Eddie’s jean-clad knee.
He moves the cup aside and slowly lowers himself until he’s able to rest his head in his daughter’s lap.
At first, it’s as if Eliza doesn’t even notice. She’s watching her show, letting her dad just lay down on her. But after a few seconds, her stare breaks from the television and her brown eyes meet matching larger ones. Her head tilts to the side, inspecting him, and her curls bob with the motion. Eddie smiles up at her and a slow grin grows on her face in return.
One of Eliza’s tiny hands splays across Eddie’s forehead, some of his bangs getting pushed to the side, and some getting caught under her warm palm. Her other hand lands on his chin, delicate fingers curving around his jaw and rubbing against some stubble.
Eliza stays like that, looking down at her father, not moving. It takes everything in Eddie not to laugh as he just stares back at the inquisitive little face that reminds him so much of you.
Quickly, Eliza leans in and presses a kiss to the tip of Eddie’s nose. Gone is his urge to laugh, replaced by the most adoring grin as he revels in her affection. He’s about to thank her for the kiss when she leans in to do it again. This time, however, her mouth is open, and she ends up enveloping his nose in her small mouth.
There’s no way Eddie can hold in his laughter this time as he feels her drool dribble up his nose onto his face. The giddiness is infectious because Eliza pulls her mouth off only to begin laughing alongside of him.
“You might just be as weird as I am,” he tells her, which makes her laugh even harder.
That night at dinner, the results are discussed.
“So, who wins?” Ryan asks as he spears some green beans with his fork.
“Not me,” Luke grumbles, slouching down in his chair.
“Oh, relax,” Eddie says, reaching over and clapping the younger boy on the shoulder. “It’s not like this was scored or anything.”
Luke drops his fork onto the plate with a clang and raises his hands up in front of him.
“My hair ruined it for me! That’s not fair!”
“You know, she can talk now,” you point out, looking at Eliza happily eating in her highchair next to you.
“Good point,” Ryan says. He clears his throat and leans across the table towards her. “Eliza, which of us is your favorite?”
The little girl pops a grape in her mouth and chews, looking like she’s thoughtfully thinking over the question.
“Me,” she finally says.
“No,” Luke says with a shake of his head. “Which of us?” He emphasizes his point by gesturing to the four of you around the table.
Eliza nods her head once, with finality. “Me.”
Eddie huffs a laugh and shrugs his shoulders.
“Her Majesty has spoken.”
“I don’t think it counts,” Luke laments, looking back down to his plate.
“Yeah, her vote doesn’t count,” Ryan agrees.
You and Eddie share a look of amusement across the table. With these three around, life will never be boring.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#older!eddie#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#eddie munson imagine#dad!eddie#AYW#AYWS#request
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subject to change 1.1.1 (a check in)
wc: 2.2k
summary: in which Harry shows y/n something new but it involves his store.
part one part two
a/n: hi again! its been a while! I'm sorry I kinda disappeared, but I promise I have been around. After reading miss @gurugirl update the other day for bfd!Harry I needed some more breeding kink so I snuck some in here as well. I hope you all enjoy!! I’ve missed you all!!
cw: smut, use of sir, exhibitionism, breeding kink, cream pie, standing sex, brief spanking, choking if you squint, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, oral (f receiving), if there's any I missed pls let me know!
Ever since that night in the hotel with Harry, your relationship had been going strong. Every night, you’d go into his bookstore, and take claim on one of the couches in the seating area to work on your daily editing while he worked on closing down the store. He’d watch you make your concentration faces and think they’re some of the cutest things he’d ever seen. Sometimes you’d even meet a reader and have a chat with them as they perused the store. More people were stopping in lately to purchase holiday gifts for their loved ones, it helped that your latest release was always fully stocked at Harry’s House.
“You look annoyed,” Harry commented, taking a seat next to you on the couch.
“I am,” you huff, leaning into his side as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, placing a kiss atop your head. “I can’t figure out this idea, it's not anything we’ve done before so it's hard to imagine.”
“Well, Sweets, we’ve done quite a bit. Can you be more specific?” Harry always asks for the exact thing you want, making you squirm and he loves it.
“Like whe–when you get turned on from the possibility of getting caught.” your skin starts to get clammy from talking about these things out loud; it always did.
“Oh, you mean exhibitionism?” his hand runs up and down your arm, leaving goosebumps with every pass.
“Is that what it is? I thought it was voyeurism.”
“No, that’s when you get turned on from watching other people.”
“See there’s so many terms i don't understand yet,” whines leave your lips, he just chuckles at your mini meltdown.
“I can show you if you want,” he whispers in your ear in your favorite tone of his voice, his warm breath tickling your skin.
“Sh–show me?” When he speaks to you in that tone, it doesn't take long for your core to throb.
He nods in response, a grin on his lips. “Mhm, but you have to be a good girl and wait until I close up. Can you do that for me, baby?” he asks, taking a hold of your chin and placing a kiss on your lips. You form a cute smile, your eyes glazed over in anticipation as you nod your head in his hold. “C’mon, baby you know better. Need words from you,” he laughs.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good girl,” he gives you another kiss, “You stay here and work on your story, I’ll be back there closing down. I’ll let you know when I’m done, okay?”
“Yes, sir.” you nod excitedly, making him chuckle.
About thirty minutes have passed and you’re getting antsy. Harry’s never made you wait when you were feeling like this before, so you don’t really know how to act. You stand from the couch, and make sure the door is locked before making your way back to Harry. So what if there was still five minutes before closing? You were feeling needy.
“Thought i told you to wait?”
“Can’t sir,” you whine, leaning against the counter next to him as he counted the money in the register, not paying you any real attention.
“Too bad,” he continues slipping the bills between his fingers as he took mental note of the amounts before writing it in the book.
“Please, sir?” you begin fidgeting with the hem of your skirt, playing with the material as you look down to the floor.
No answer.
“Sir?”
Nothing. He just keeps counting the money
Your tone switches, you’re tired of being ignored. “Harry.”
He still doesn't respond, just sets the money down and looks over to you with irritation laced in his gaze. “Turn around,” he grunts, taking hold of one of your wrists. Harry walks up behind you, pressing his front into your back, making your hips dig into the counter in front of you. You hiss at the feeling. “What happened to you being my good girl? Hmm?” he takes hold of both of your hands, placing them on the counter in front of you. “Keep these here, yeah?”
Harry slides his hands down the expanse of your body, squeezing your hips as he makes his way south and gliding his hands up your skirt and tearing your panties off. The tearing sound makes you gasp. He slides the scraps of what was left into his pocket for safekeeping.
“Now, any of those people out there–” he begins to whisper in your ear. He pulls your hips back, leaving you in a slight bend, your lower half still pressed against him as he speaks.”--can look in here and see you being a little whore for me,--” he flips up the hem of your skirt exposing the skin of your ass.”--So I suggest you go back to being my good girl and be quiet.” Your eyes remain locked front; staring straight out the window as the people walk by without a clue.
He begins massaging the skin of your ass before lifting one hand off and bringing it harshly down against the surface making you jump and yelp loudly at the contact.
“Quiet,” he growls against the skin of your neck. Sliding his hand over your asscheek, he makes the journey around to your front, teasing where you want to feel him most. His other hand snaking its way around your throat, pinning your head against his shoulder as he begins to rub slow circles over your clit. Quiet pants leave your lips at every pass.
He speeds up; testing your ability to keep quiet. You take your bottom lip between your teeth when you feel him slide two of his fingers deep in your core, scissoring them inside your gummy walls. Every twist of his wrist makes you want to scream out his name, but you know the fate you’d meet if you did. Tempting, but also horrifying to be seen by all the people walking about, buying gifts for their loved ones. Your legs begin to shake once his fingers repeatedly stroke over that spot he knows you love.
“You gonna cum?” Harry asks, knowing full well you’re about to. You nod as much as you can in his hold in response. “Then cum.”
And you do, hard. The grip he kept on your neck was the only thing keeping you standing. A mixture of grunts and gargle sounds fall from your lips as you teeter over the edge and he pulls every bit of arousal from you possible.
“Which hole do you want stuffed, pet? Hm? Which hole should I stuff with my load for all of those people to look over and see?” His words feel like a dull blade running up the curves of your throat, setting your skin ablaze even more so than the fading orgasm he brought you to with just his fingers.
Harry lets go of your throat so you can speak, “My pussy please,” you choke out, leaning forward on your elbows against the counter below.
“Yeah? Wanna feel me fill you up full of my babies? Hm? Wanna be all swollen and plump for me?” his primal insticnt to mark you as his in for any passersby to see.
“Mhm! Need it so bad, Sir!” whines leave your lips faster than you can comprehend the words coming out.
“Gonna give it to you, Sweets don’t worry,” he opens the front of his pants, pulling his cock from the confines of his boxers before swiping his thumb over his tip to smear the precum around the surface. You feel him rub his length up and down your folds, tapping it against your clit making you a whiny mess underneath him. “Gonna be quiet for me or do i need to shut you up early?”
“Shut me up early,” you beg, wanting whatever he’s planning on giving you. His hand smooths up your back, wrapping it around your face, covering your mouth and pulling your head back as he pressed into you. Your eyes cross at the stretch and your muffled whines fill the air.
“Such a good pussy,” he moans softly, “always sucking me in so nicely. Think I’ll make a home in her.” you moan in response. “Yeah? Want me to make my claim for good? Knock you up?” You nod your head faster than you can process his question; you just know you want whatever he’ll give you. “Hm, do you think you deserve it?” you nod some more.
His thrusts are tantalizingly slow as hes speaking to you; never quite giving you what you want. He’s repeatedly giving you languid strokes but then switching, and pulling all the way out and then shoving just the tip back in; driving you mad. You want more. You need more.
“I don't think you do, I have to cover your mouth in order to keep you quiet so these people aren't disturbed outside. Doesn't seem like a very ‘good girl’ thing to do.” you whine at his words, wanting more.
“Please,” you try to muffle, he just repositions his hand across your mouth.
“Sorry pet, what was that?” Harry teases.
“Please!” you yell out after pulling his hand from your mouth to finally speak. An older woman hears your words, looking into the store. She just smiles at you and moves along, not thinking anything about the scandalous position you were in. A harsh smack lands on your ass in response.
“Gonna have to work on keeping you quiet,” Harry reaches down, pulling your torn panties from his pocket and balling them up. He pulls your head back again. “Open,” he demands. You lull your tongue out as your mouth falls open. He offers you a warm stream of spit before tucking your torn panties into your mouth and forcing it shut. Harry lets go of your head, coercing your upper half down on the counter, and taking hold of your hands as he finally sets a more brutal pace, driving your hips forward into the counter with every thrust.
Whimpers and whines fill the air as well as the sound of his clothed hips making contact with yours. “Fuckin tight pussy always treats me so well,” Harry grunts, “Gonna fill it up nice n’ deep for you, sweets.” Whines of approval leave your lips. The coil in your belly is pulling further and further as it gets ready to snap. “Gonna cum again, baby?” he asks. You nod your head fervently at his words, making him chuckle. “Give it all to me, pet. Cum for me,” Harry pleads.
His pleas make the coil snap; sending you over that metaphorical peak. Feeling your walls clench around him so tightly sends him into his own orgasm as he chases his own high. He buries himself inside as deep as he possibly can as he releases his load into you. “Fuck, sweets, gonna milk me dry."
Sticky sounds fill the air around you as he continues thrusting in and out of you, unable to let go of the warm feeling. He’s imagining the look of fucked out bliss across your face and he smiles as he comes down. The feeling of you still wrapped around his cock feels like heaven to him. He’d stay like this forever if it was feasible. He was addicted to hearing the whimpers fall from your lips, though he thinks he'd rather hear you call his name from now on. Nothing compared to that for him. Knowing he was the one giving you the pleasure you were feeling.
After he pulled out, harry was quick to clean the mess between your legs with his tongue. Quickly dropping to his knees behind you, deftly ignoring your pleas of “too much,”
“Just cleanin’ up our mess, baby,” he spoke against your core; the vibrations almost too much. You reach back, attempting to shove his head away but he slaps your hand away.
“So that was exhibitionism?” you asked, slipping into the bed beside Harry as he pulls you to his chest.
“Mhm, kinda hot right?” he asks, placing a kiss atop your head.
“I liked it. I was so terrified and turned on when that woman looked inside,” you admitted, pulling the covers of his bed up and over the both of you.
“I’m glad you liked it, and I’m also glad I’m the only one with access to my security cameras in the store.” he chuckled against your hair.
“Oh god, I didn’t even think about that.” you laughed. You begin thinking back to the act, and how he talked about getting you pregnant. “Would you really want a baby with me?” you asked timidly.
“Course I would. I mean, right now wouldn't be optimal timing, but I’m not against the idea. Why? Is that really sticking with you?”
“Mhm, I liked the idea of having a little bit of you with me forever.
“I like that idea too, Sweets,” he places a soft kiss against your lips.
“Now what about voyeurism?”
c/n: hello babies, if u made it this far I LOVE YOU! leave me a 😈 if u’re here :))) thank you all for the love along this couples journey. I’m not ready to let them go either. I’m thinking of just carrying on with their story? Maybe? Perhaps? But I also have a few other ideas I want to work on! We shall see my loves. Let me know what you’d like to see though! 🩵
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles one shot#harry styles imagine#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#harry styles x fem!reader#harry edward styles
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