#this was so hard but I listen to idle way fucking more
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Make Me Choose;
Everglow or (G)I-DLE
asked by @utopianoverlord
#gidle#idle#i dle#kpop#music#edits24#mykpop#femaleidols#utopianoverlord#femaleidolsedit#this was so hard but I listen to idle way fucking more
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i’m obsessed with ur fics and want to live inside your pretty little brain, you just write jjk characters so well 🫠
recently i’ve been thinking about choso having a bad day or something and just wanting to be taken care of, so now you’re nursing him while you jerk him off and he’s a whiny moaning mess and it’s so cute and when he thinks you’re done with him you get on top and ride him and he’s begging you to stop bc he can’t take anymore pleasure :( like i’m sick over this i need him so bad
❤︎ ໋𓈒 pleasing choso after a long day.
warnings. fem! reader, overstim, jerking choso off, pampering choso bc he deserves it, whiney choso, cowgirl, creampıe, praise, mdni + thank u sm !!!
“. . please,” choso would murmur in a frail weak tone, he sounded so drowsy, so needy. he’s barely through the door before he wraps his strong bulky arms around you. you giggle, being squished between his warmth before he buries his face into your neck. he gently runs his tongue against your collarbone before continuing to speak in muffled sentences. “missed you so bad. had a long day ‘n just need to . . need to unwind.”
you smile, stroking his back lovingly. “aw, bad day today, ‘cho?” you’d sweetly reply, feeling him shudder from your touch alone. despite you being so gentle, he was always so incredibly weak around you, including a simple few electric touches from you. “of course baby, i’ll help you.”
“can….you help me um,” and he’s struggling to get the words out. the two of you were finally secluded together in the large spacey bedroom. choso’s laid back, shirtless and heavy heaving breaths depart from his lips every few seconds. the more you stare at him the more he finds it hard to swallow the growing lump in his throat. “can you do the thing? like last time?”
you giggle, glancing at the poking tent in his boxers. “a handjob, baby?”
“…handjob,” he repeats, his eyes softening before a mere whine escapes from his throat. “oh … yeah, that. please,” and his lungs felt so clouded. with a hand running through his hair, he sighs cutely. “yes p-please. i wanna handjob. i’d do it myself but you always do it better, p-princess.”
choso was so cute, the way he was basically putty underneath your hands..
his words always trembled, he wanted you more than anything. he was always like this whenever he came home, so needy each and everytime for nothing more than your simple addicting touch.
“okay,” you’d comply, just a single word that pours from your lips alone was so seductive to him. he could listen to your voice all day. it was his own type of harmony, a song he’d love to listen to every day on repeat if he could.
your voice.
you reach beside him near the black short nightstand, grabbing a lube bottle before making sure to not waste any time.
you could tell by choso’s dilated pupils and his irregular rapid pants that he was growing more and more impatient as the time passed.
“wanna feel you s-so bad,” he whimpers, tensing a little from the way your hand springs out his length, lubricating around his pulsating cock.
you always made sure to be thorough— slicking every inch of him down with the liquid, starting from his swollen tip, then down towards his shaft, then his base. of course, his balls too. whenever you fondled with his fat puffy balls, choso would make such the cutest whines imaginable. “f-fuck, m-more. hurry, princess.”
“baby, don’t rush me,” you tease, sitting right beside him before pressing a sweltering hot kiss against his temple. he whimpers at your touch yet again, the softness of your lips having him in utter shambles. you made sure to have your dominant hand pay close attention towards the head of his dick, the most neglected sensitive spot. he inhales then exhales, gnawing at his lip before dark eyes of his stares up at the idle ceiling fan. “mhm. you’re so pent up, must have had a really rough day, hm?”
“so h-horrible,” he pouts, despite his voice being naturally deep and a bit gruff, the delivery of how whiney he was was just so cute. “i’m just glad i always come home to you. y-you always know how to make me feel better.”
you simper, your hand finally fully wrapping around his base before you start to give him a few solid pumps.
he moans, thickly swallowing the remnants of sweet syrupy spit that remain all in his mouth.
so so good..
you drove him crazy in the right ways possible. choso felt a sudden ringing sensation rigorously vibrate throughout his ears. he felt hot all over, radiating with a staggering high temperature of scorching boiling heat.
the tempo you had with jerking him off was a decent pace at first, gradually fisting his cock with each concise stroke—you occasionally glance up at choso who’s panting up a storm. “. . . . ugh,” he mewls out through gritted teeth, a hand of his own attempting to grab towards yours. “i wanna touch you t-too.”
“no choso,” you sneer, moving his hand away.
oh, the pout that suddenly spreads across his lips was so cute.
he’s giving you puppy dog eyes as if he’s questioning you a perplexed little, ‘huh?’ whilst you’re still stroking him at such a quickening pace, you make sure he keeps his hands to himself. “you wanted me to touch you, not choso, ‘kay? let me do everything, be a good boy for me.”
“i-i’m sorry, sorry,” he mutters in short breaths, finding your tone to be so hot. the twitch he feels in his dick only gets him more aroused. for a split second, you feel a vein that ran down the middle of his shaft pulse against your palm. “you’re right. ‘m gonna let you please me. gonna be a good boy ‘n keep my hands to m-myself.”
you peck a kiss against his hot cheek. “so good for me.”
“p-praise me more, please.” he whines.
“choso,” you giggle, and he was more needier than usual today. his voice grew a bit more high the faster you stroke him—his beefy thigh starts to bounce and bounce before he’s leaning back in pleasure. “you want more praises?”
he nods. “i- i do, your voice ‘s so hot, so s-sexy,” and his breathing abruptly hitches once you give him a sly smile. “not the right word, that was inappropriate— i- i mean, attractive. your voice when you praise me ‘s so attractive, i want more.”
the way he corrects himself from his choice of words was adorable.
whenever you gave choso a handy though, he’d never really last long regardless. choso would usually only last a few good minutes, especially with your hand work, your techniques.. he was simply no match.
“i’ll praise you all day, baby,” you whisper, watching as he’s feeling himself get close. he’s so desperate to touch you. he wants to, to stroke himself with you, wrap his big hand against yours. choso bites his lip in anticipation— feeling how he’s steadily losing composure. immensely, he starts to feel his throat grow dry, the air felt richly thick and he starts to get more and more vocal. “close?”
“uh huh, uh huuh,” he nods, pretty long lashes of his squeezing shut. choso’s about to fall into that trance again, your speed had him losing his mind. in his mouth, he starts to salivate. you’re so steady and precise with your beats and pumps against his cock that he’s about to spiral completely. “princess, ‘m gonna make a mess. you’re gonna make me m-messy again.”
“be messy for me then,” you invigorate to him against his ear, playfully licking a stripe near the soft outer shell of his lobe. he shivers at that, so sensitive. again, if it was anything that could be considered as choso kamo’s weakness— it was your voice. “give it to me, c’mon ‘cho.”
he’s so hard, his dick was all slick and wet from the translucent colored lube running down the sides of his hefty shaft.
a shaky breath snatches out of choso’s mouth before his abs tense up.
a hand goes through his hair before he feels the pressure finally hit him. “shit, s-shitttt,” he whines, feeling the area of his frenulum pulse and pulse. he’s seeing pure splotches of white— once his climax comes, it takes merely everything out of him. static shoots out from his ears and he lets off a cute shriek. “a-ah.”
you stare at the mess he’d just paint on himself. a few spurts of his own sticky cum shoots against his tummy, right near his lower abdomen. choso’s eyebrows significantly lower before he lets off a cute, “phew..”
“want more?” you coo, unraveling your hand around his dick before staring at him— he returns your gaze with half-lidded dark eyes.
he nods, panting off a sweet desperate. “yes please.”
choso figured you were gonna stroke him off again, but his eyes briefly widen once you end up up making your way onto his lap. straddling him in such a lewdly titillating way, he gulps. the ringing throughout his ears reverberates louder before you align yourself against the wet tip of his cock.
he was so aroused, so needy, so in love..
being a half curse spirit— he’s never got to fully experience types of pleasure like this.
albeit, he was always grateful to you for being able to show him everything he was missing out on though. with his bottom lip quivering, he gasps once he feels you slowly sinking down onto his length, feeling the warm pool of heat introduce itself to his cock that’s gradually splitting you open.
“oh…..fuck,” he’d groan, and at this particular point, his voice grows a raspy low. hooded eyes stare at you, studying your every move. from fixating his pupils on your hips, your chest, and even your face— he just couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. “y-you’re gonna ride me?”
“yes baby,” you throw your arms around him, pulling him into a deep sensual kiss. he’s panting, each breath feels like it’s gonna be its last with you. warm tongues tangle and tango amongst each other before you briefly suck on his. a whine pulls from his throat before he feels your hips start to jerk.
abruptly, choso pulls away, whimpering a sweet. “can— can i touch you now at least? please. f-fuck, can’t take it anymore princess.”
“touch me however you’d like, pretty boy,” you’d speak in a hushed tone, licking another long strike against his neck. he was so sensitive, his eyes were practically about to roll all the way back by this point. you’re easing your sloppy cunt down onto his length and his roughly textured hands grab against your hips. choso then spanks your ass, only to give it a mean squeeze afterward just to see you gasp. “like touching me, huh?”
“y-you know i do,” he pouts, feeling the deep stretch. it was so so good— mouth watering, a perfect way to describe his mouth at the feeling of your pussy taking him in in such a sloppy, erotic way. already, you were a bit soaked from earlier, coating his base with a candied gossamer ring of your slick arousal. “my god, my g-goddd.” he throws his head back once you start to move against him.
a few solid rhythmic thrusts and choso kamo was done for.
he stuffs you full of inches, you lean up close to his face to plant your lips against the bridge of his nose— softly smooching against the area where his darkened scar remained. pink wet lips of his quaver from that simple action and his grip against your hips only tightens.
clammy, sweaty hands guide your hips to fuck against him harder before his head leans back. “fuck me, f-fuck me, jus’ fuck me pleaseeee. can’t c-cum, don’t think i can come anymore.”
choso becomes more whiny, his voice starting to strain overtime and you feel your stomach briefly seizing from how deep he’s hitting you.
relentlessly, you’re moving against him so good that not even he can keep up with you. your pussy’s the perfect match for him, fitting nice and snug like a lock fits inside a key.
oh, but the grip..
the grip of your sopping wet cunt against his dick was so appetizing, he only wanted more. more more more, the squelching noises had him feral and by now, with a tight enough grip he’s helping you slam down against his lap. “hah, can’t . . ‘m not gonna cum again, baby, f-fuck. fuck me so good, i—i love you, love you ‘s much.”
“i love you too baby,” you moan yourself, pulling him back into a steamy kiss. his sweetened whines and whimpers pour right into your mouth, ravened strands of his hair sticking against his forehead like glue. choso was drenched in sweat, perspiring such amounts that it makes his skin glisten entirely. “yes you can,” you hum between sultry breaths, coating his entire face with your kisses. you watch as his eyebrows arch and he squeezes against your ass just a bit tighter. he loves the recoil— spanking your ass just to witness and see the jiggle, it had his dick twitching even more. “you can give me one more, know you can, baby.”
“f-fuck, you’re gonna make a mess outta me,” he whimpers. the way you grind against him has him going feral by the second. hot deep breaths wretch from his throat before his head goes back. he leans all the way back, washboard abs flexing and curling up. with a single finger of yours running down his sharp chiseled v-line, he nearly loses it. your touch, his ultimate weakness. “gonna c-cum again, ‘m gonna flood your pussy again, oh fuuuuck.”
with your arms still lazily thrown around him, choso hugs you tightly, pumping further into your gummy walls that clamp him down oh so good before he ends up cumming again. this time, inside. it’s so hot from the inside—your pussy was all toasty, balmy from every crevice of your walls and the addictive hold it has on him. he shoots a long thick rope into you, it comes out into satiny spurts, filling you up to the very brim.
choso’s reaction was so cute, he’s literally speechless, yet his grip against your ass doesn’t even lessen. his face was practically covered with strands of his hair, half lidded eyes and a pussy drunken smile curling against his thin crimson red lips. “i— oh my,” he hiccups, catching his breath for a moment. the entirety of his body felt a plethora of emotions— hot, cold, warm, all of it. for a moment, his eyes meet your gaze before he swallows, reaching down, swirling two fingers against your sloppy cunt. you moan, feeling him gather up a good amount of his own cum that oozes out of your hole before bringing it toward his lips. choso pops his fingers into his mouth, getting a good taste and he moans, still feeling himself deeply buried into your sweet cunt.
so filthy, tasting himself like that with no shame..
“taste okay?” you puff out, watching as he’s got his two digits stuffed all in his mouth. with a cute nod, he pulls you closer towards his broad chest before you slowly pull his fingers out his mouth. “good, because ‘m not done with you yet, baby. wanna see if you can give me one more. can you be a good boy ‘n do that for me?”
“i- i’ll be your good boy,” he pouts, moaning harmonically once your hips start to make haste, picking up again. “wanna be so good for you. promise i’ll give you one more. f-fuck, i love you.”
#★vegasbaby.#choso x reader#choso smut#choso kamo smut#choso kamo x reader#choso x you#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujustsu kaisen x reader#anime smut#female reader#jjk drabbles#jjk imagines#cw overstim
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𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑
➸ PAIRING: Lieutenant Simon 'Ghost' Riley x gn medic!Reader (same reader from here, but this is a stand-alone)
➸ SUMMARY: You kiss Simon's very minor injuries. And then some. (Or, alternatively: He's not actually wounded. He just wants to see you.)
➸ WARNING(S): some graphic descriptions of old injuries
➸ A/N: Need to preface that this isn't smut despite how the title and summary sound. Anyways, Jo knows I listened to Hozier's Other Voices 2020 version of "Work Song" for a week straight while writing this.
➸ WC: 2k
❝ 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍' 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃, ❞ he admits, low-timbered. It feels intimate, especially coming from him. Simon's sitting on the cot; it sags under his weight. He curls his hands over the edge of it as he leans forward. No casualties post-mission means he's got free rein to pick wherever he wants in the medical tent.
"Oh, yeah? What about?"
"That I should probably do my best to avoid injuries so I don’t keep pestering you. Can always just tell me to fuck off, y’know.”
“You’re gonna break my heart if you stop coming around.
“Mm,” he says in agreement. “Can’t have that can we?”
You nod your head earnestly. “I like your company.”
“Tryin’ to say that you’ll miss me?”
“I would.” More than he knows.
It’s routine now. He gives you just enough room, adjusting his position. You step into the space made between Simon’s splayed knees, his massive legs nearly bracketing yours with how close they are. He’s bigger than you. Well, considerably more mammoth-like in his proportions compared to an overwhelming majority of the soldiers that you’ve encountered, to be quite honest.
Simon acts as though he’s acutely aware of his size. You suspect that he purposefully makes himself smaller in your presence. Like now, how his shoulders are rounded forward, the column of his spine not as straight-arrow in that standard, militaristic posture most servicemen have adopted. As if he doesn’t want to appear too intimidating. Not that Simon could, to you. Hours doing his stitches and idle chitchat on your part have taught you that he’s much less ruthless than people seem to paint him as. But you appreciate the thought anyway.
You conduct the assessment – a typical evaluation normal for combat casualty care, more in-depth than the one you’d done when he initially stopped by and you did a quick once-over for any obvious injuries. Though given the complete vacancy in the medical tent, you find it hard to believe that you’ll come across anything on him since the mission went that smoothly.
The first thing you notice this time: he doesn't smell like spilled blood. It's different. Not that sweet, rusted iron of wet tackiness – the one that reminds you of a generous stack of two pence coins held between a pair of hands cupped together. He comes in that way a lot. Reeks, because war means that he's no stranger to charging through a shower of copper and lead-forged bullets out on the field. Everything else is still there, though. Maybe a dying campfire – crackling logs and blackened earth. Soft dirt excavated from a foxhole for cover while under enemy fire. All gunpowder and Marlboro Lights and diesel-fuel smoke. Fresh rain and a blue-violet sky after a storm. Victory without consequence.
You'd breathe it in if you could, pull the collar of his jacket up to your face. At this proximity, it’d be easy.
He drops the act when he’s in front of you. Lieutenant. Ghost. Battle-hardened, gruff. A natural-born leader. The kind of person to rip this world apart brick by brick – scraped up palms clutching onto broken pieces – to make sure that the plan is executed accordingly, no matter the cost. It’s hard for him to shed that layer. A drop in the bucket of information that you’ve gathered about this man.
You’ve seen him at his best. But you know him at his worst.
The laundry list of injuries over the years: blows to his torso and his back and his limbs that were brighter than technicolor – purples and reds and sickly yellow-green shades – deep, blotchy medals of violence decorating his skin like some kind of fucked-up kaleidoscope that was nothing to be proud of; when some bastard drove a knife right into his upper thigh, that dirty blade wedged through tissue and muscle which was sure as hell going to induce the nastiest infection without serious TLC and a tetanus shot; rib fractures 7-9 because he aborted an exploding heli, seconds to spare before landing on his side wrong from a height that was equivalent to three stories tall; old GSWs dotting his body the same way you’d shove push pins into a paper-flimsy map to mark the places you’ve been to.
And then there’s no contest for the top contender. 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭'𝐬 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐭 #𝟏: when he was rushed in on a stretcher, barely clinging to life. Lower abdomen shredded by exploding shrapnel. He was outside of the window of opportunity. Too far beyond that golden hour, so his chances of surviving plummeted to a single-digit percent.
He’s more than just a patchwork of scars. There’s a complex person underneath the surface. A miracle in the flesh to have toughed it out through all of that. Resilient. Perpetual. His callsign makes sense. Ghosts really do live forever.
Several seconds pass before you speak again. It’s a silly comment, teasing – poking fun at him. You don’t have any reservations when it comes to picking on Simon; he’s good about taking these things in stride. Funny, actually. He’s got a dry sense of humor. “I think… you like the idea of someone taking care of you.”
His response isn’t immediate. It’s delayed, said with intention. He doesn’t ever waste words. “Not just anybody.”
You nearly reel back at that. Warmth floods your face. You aren’t quite sure what to say, didn’t expect it. So you let the comment hang in the air between the two of you, busying your hands with slipping off his tac vest, triple-checking for hidden wounds, doing anything to keep yourself occupied while you stand this close to him in the wake of that remark. You’re engrossed in your work, in search of a distraction.
(He’s a distraction, isn’t he?)
And then your eyes stop in their scan. Right there: a small nick on the exposed sliver of skin between his glove and sleeve – open to the direct path of some wayward debris that happened to graze him. So tiny. You’ve seen paper cuts more harrowing than this – wouldn’t have even registered on your radar, especially if it’s being dwarfed by other critical wounds that hold decisive sway over somebody’s fate when it comes to your average life-or-death scenario.
Of course, you take your job very seriously.
You feign a sharp inhale. “Ah,” you say solemnly, guiding his arm up to your face for a closer look. “Found your problem.”
“I’ve got a problem,” he echoes, voice laced with amusement.
“See, you came to the right place. Anybody else would’ve missed it.”
“The verdict, then?”
“So terrible. Earth-shattering, in fact—”
Simon starts pulling away. “Alright, that’s enough of you takin’ the piss outta me,” he gripes.
You chase his arm to recapture it into your grasp. “Wait!” you say, huffing out a laugh. Your mouth sprouts into a wide grin that makes him roll his eyes.
“You gonna treat me or what?”
Your humor bubbles away as you come back to your senses. Those once-loud peals of laughter start to die down when you take his question into consideration. Because there’s really nothing for you to do; he doesn’t need you.
The realization is slow-moving. It washes over you, rolls like waves as you finally begin to sober up.
Simon wants to be here, and he’s looking for any excuse to stay. He just can’t find the courage to own up to it.
“I dunno. Might be unconventional,” you throw out casually, playing along. “Risky, maybe – never been done before.”
But he’s undeterred. “Sure. Whatever you gotta do.”
You pause for a beat, fingers still wrapped around his forearm because you haven’t managed to let go yet. His skin is warm under your palm. You’re not sure what exactly possesses you to do it – emboldened by his encouragement, given complete carte blanche; he’s leaving this to your discretion. So you press your lips to that area where the cut is, right over his pulse point. If you had lingered for longer, you probably would’ve been able to feel it thudding, that solid rhythm and easy strength reminding you he’s alive.
You expected him to withdraw his arm in bewilderment. He should’ve kicked up a fuss about you violating his boundaries, should’ve told you that you overstepped. Something, right?
But he doesn’t do any of that. Simon’s studying you. Dark pupils. So chasm-deep that the ground beneath your feet might slip away. Ocean trenches, midnight-black like the charcoal smudged around his eyes. When they land on you, his gaze goes molasses-soft. He’s fond; there’s little room for doubt. The way he looks at you says everything. None of that usual coldness he harbors during an op. Instead, relaxed and more human than you’re used to seeing – all of his attention focused solely on you.
“Where else, Simon?” you whisper.
He’s thinking – carefully weighing his options – the same expression that he gets when a crossroads lies ahead of him and he knows his make-it-or-break-it decision will invariably affect the outcome of a mission.
After several moments, his hand comes up. Simon’s fingers curl underneath the hem of his mask; he’s been wearing the fabric balaclava more often since you’ve fixed the stitching on it. Then he lifts – not the entire way. Just to reveal the bottom half of his face. There he is. Sandpaper-rough stubble. The sharp cut of his jaw. A mouth that you’re convinced wears a scowl 24/7 behind his mask but is now slightly twitched up.
Even though you’ve seen it before, the sight of him never fails to steal your breath away. Feels like meeting him for the first time again. With how rarely he does this, it might as well be – that slow, heart-melting sensation is steadily filling the cavern of your chest.
And you lean in. Your lips brush against his; it’s a chaste thing – the kiss – if it can be called that. Gentle. Like how you’d stitch up his wounds with a light touch and kind intent. He’s built of sterner stuff, but if there’s anything you’ve learned about him, it’s that he’s capable of breaking just as easily as everyone else. You always handle Simon with care: unequivocal compassion and empathy when there’s so little of those left on this side of war – privileges that he’s never taken for granted.
“Better?” you ask quietly, tipping your head in question.
Simon hums his approval – this pleased, low sound in his throat. His hand slides across your lower back. He tugs you towards him. “Wouldn’t mind some more attention,” he murmurs, before slotting his mouth over yours. And then he kisses you like it might heal him from the outside in.
#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x you#ghost x you#simon riley fluff#simon riley fic#cod x reader#cod fic#call of duty fic#call of duty modern warfare 2#call of duty modern warfare#cod mw x reader#cod mw fanfiction#cod mw 2
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Thin Walls — Keegan P. Russ x Reader
Dbf!Keegan collab with the amazing @moosch MWAH
Check out her amazing drawing on this<3
There were rare times Keegan felt like he may have chosen the wrong job. Right now? Covered in dirt and grime, seeking shelter in an abandoned building with the rest of the ghosts after a particularly hard mission was one of those moments. What was supposed to be a three hour mission went downhill and turned into four long days of chasing down an enemy for intel.
The first thing he did as soon as the building was cleared was to fish for his phone, reading the thread of messages he had from you; ranging from telling him about your day, to complaining about missing him and how he owes you a shopping spree for going dark. He rolled his eyes, a deep chuckle rumbling out of his chest and escaping his lips. A new text caught his attention, scrolling down to read it.
Brat: [16:38]
I see you online, can we ft? Papa wants to see u :)
He stares at your message for a few seconds, considering his chances. Keegan looks like shit— eye black smudged messily all over his face, uniform dirty and muddy, a streak of dried up blood dripping down his forehead, and icy blue eyes so tired you would think he died and was never informed. He didn't want you or your father; his best friend, to see him at his worst.
Glucose Father: [16:40]
Sorry princess, signs too shitty for that. Send me some pics of that bratty face and maybe I'll take you shopping when I'm back?
He internally cringed at the text, rarely even using his phone unless it was to text your father and you. His fingers tap on the sides of his phone as he waited for a reply, putting the idle chatter of the ghosts in the back of his mind as he went to another room with the excuse of being able to get some sleep once and for all.
For a second, he ignored the phone vibrating in his hand, leaning against the wall and sitting down with a groan, sore muscles finally able to rest, even if only for a few hours.
Brat [16:43]
Sent 6 attachments.
His tired eyes drifted down to his phone, opening the message and being received by the sight of you, a smile adorning your pretty face. His gaze softened and his pants tightened as he noticed you wearing one of his shirts, fitting into it so much better than he could. He stayed quiet for a few seconds, listening to the chatter on the other side of the thin wall before his free hand drifted down to his growing bulge, holding back a groan as he palmed his sensitive cock over his pants.
"Fuck..." He whispered, hesitantly lowering his fly enough to pull his dick out, gloveless hand feeling the length of it before he started stroking slowly, moving his hand up and down while he looked at your pictures. They were completely innocent pictures, really, simply showing your pretty face and bright smile, yet he couldn't help it.
He was trying his best to be quiet despite how good jerking off felt after so much stress. His head was tilted back against the wall, eyes screwed shut as his mind came up with the filthiest fucking images, thinking of your lips wrapped around his cock, struggling to take him as he fucked your face. He could just imagine the noises that would come out of you as his thick dick was shoved all the way down your throat, a deep growl coming out of his lips as his rough fingers massaged his tip, spreading the leaking precum and using it as lube to jerk off better.
He swapped to another photo of you smiling brightly at the camera, holding up a piece sign. What a fucking sight for sore eyes. He imagined your pretty face glazed in his thick white cum, tongue tainted by his seed. His hand involuntary moved faster and harder up and down his cock, applying more pressure with each stroke until he had to bite his lip to stop himself from making too much noise, aware enough of the thin walls.
He couldn't wait to go back home to you, making you cuddle up to him and holding you like a lifeline, the plush of your ass pressing up against his cock as you allowed him to grope you, his hands grasping at as much as he could grab while his hard clothed cock rubbed against your ass. You're killing me, brat.
A deep, low moan came out of his lips his cock twitched in his hand, balls tightening up as ropes of thick, white cum shot out, covering his hand. He squeezed his cock a little bit tighter, making sure all his cum was out, taking another look at your pretty face in the selfies before he began cleaning up.
Evidence hidden and with his cock back in his pants he stepped back into the room with the other ghosts, instantly met with the amused faces of Ajax and Kick, clearly holding in their laughter.
"Had some fun, bro?" Ajax asked, not even able to hold in his laugh anymore, Kick following right after.
"Yeah, yeah." Keegan grumbled, rolling his eyes as he sat down and pulled out his flask.
"Next time I'll do it in the same room as you motherfuckers." Logan's frown deepened.
#cod ghosts x reader#cod ghosts#keegan russ#keegan p russ#cod keegan#keegan russ x reader#keegan x reader#keegan russ smut#keegan p russ x reader#cod x reader#cod x you#cod x y/n
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*swims across the ocean and shows up at your door with my lobster plushie (larry) in my arms* hiii my nora i love youuu and i’m so excited for the sleepover ahh >< ALSO I HAD THIS IDEA RIGHT …. soo … gamer boyfriend woo – he loves to play LoL in the late night hours and he’s been ignoring you and you’re just sooo needy for him that you crawl into his lap and rub yourself against this thigh to try to get his attention and bc he sucks ass at the game he’s mad and hard but stubborn so he’s like, “if you want my cock so bad then you can keep it warm for me, can’t you, baby?” so you cockwarm him until you can’t help but move your hips and he can’t resist your pussy so he just fucks you into next week <333 ahem … so… what should we do? make some hot cocoa and have a pillow fight? :3 💕
2𝙠 𝙎𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩
my alyssa ily too!! <3<3 gamer bf woo...... cockwarming...... frustrated woo...... *head in hands* good god. I fr had to do research for this bc I don't play league, but wanted to include some of the gameplay between paragraphs of reader being needy ^^ also went a little crazy towards the end so enjoy the filth ig. hope you like this, happy reading!!~
pairing: gamer bf!jung wooyoung x fem!reader
w.c.: 1.0k
tags: smut, dry/thigh humping, some teasing, cockwarming, mean/frustrated woo, he may or may not switch up a little tho ^^, reader is so needy (not projecting whatsoever), creampie kink, terrible description of league gameplay oopsie
nsfw under cut—minors dni!
Wooyoung’s character remained perched by the fountain, mainly because the opposing team had formed a camp around his own’s spawn point, taking them down before they got the chance to make their way out. He tried to convince himself it was just that, and that the heavy drag of your clothed cunt over his thigh had nothing to do with the drowned out, fuming screams blasting into his eardrums, the idle stares at his screen while his character repeatedly respawned, the nth time the ‘defeat’ screen flashed before him.
“Woo, please,” he saw your lips move in his peripheral, one side of his headset moved off his ear to catch the faint whine leaving your lips as you used his thigh to get off. “You’ve been playing for so long….. ‘want you so bad.”
He didn’t reply, but the arms reaching past you to punch at the keycaps tightened around your waist, his muscles flexing under your moving figure. It’s only when his screen turned red once more that his attention shifted to you, your grinding faltering when fierce, lidded eyes fixed on yours. He remained quiet, the silence stretching until you shifted on his lap, a groan echoing in the space between you when the heat of your wet cunt engulfed the throbbing bulge in his sweatpants, your arousal seeping through your ruined panties to stain the grey material. His fingers floated above your hips, refusing to hand the control over to you, yet battling the need to touch you as you rolled your hips over his weeping cock.
“C’mon, Woo, I've been good-”
“Good?” His eyebrow raised, he gazed at you in disbelief. “Is that what you call humping my thigh like a needy slut while my friends listen to your pathetic whining?”
Wooyoung watched you panic, turn your head around in search for the crossed out mic, your shoulders slumping in relief once you realised that had muted himself the second you’d walked through the doorway, the familiar glint in your eyes enough to inform him of your intentions.
Twisting your head to face him again, you stutter over your words while he stares back at you with burning irises, “no, Woo, I-”
“if you’re such a good girl, then why don’t you warm my cock while I win the next match for my friends, hm?”
And you did, scrambling to pull the elastic waistband down to free his pulsing length, the tip glistening with precum, lowering your head to allow a line of drool to lube up the rest of it, unaware of the hooded eyes following the trail of saliva then the hand spreading it over his cock. Adjusting his headset to properly cover both ears, the infuriated scolding blaring through the speakers masking the grunt leaving his lips when you split yourself open on his girth, taking every last inch between your walls.
Wooyoung waited until you found a comfortable position, a hand on your lower back urging you closer to his chest until your arms circled his waist and head rested on his shoulder. You heard his keyboard clacking behind you, followed by the rasp of his voice in your ear,
“Was AFK, sorry. What did I miss?”
More screaming. Screaming you drowned out as soon as it started—the overlapping voices and aggressive mouse clicking fading the more you take in Wooyoung’s warmth, his cock nestled deep within your fluttering cunt, inhaling the pungent musk emanating off his honey skin. His thighs flexed under you. He wasn’t unaffected by your tight heat, that much was obvious. He was just being stubborn.
You rolled your hips experimentally, the edge of your panties dragging over the side of his cock where you had them pushed to the side, the fingers resting over the expensive keyboard flying to your hip, Wooyoung’s neck craning to shoot a disapproving glance your way. Shifting his attention back to the game, you moved again, clenching around him and smiling to yourself when a broken moan left his parted lips.
Wooyoung wasn’t sure where his irritation stemmed from—was it his continuous losses, the fact that he was absolutely terrible at the game and the only reason his team ever won is because Yunho carried every time, or was it because he needed you so bad, despite his wordless claims otherwise? Both, perhaps. But mostly the latter, he finally admitted, the small, incessant rolls of your hips paired with heated lips pressing kisses to his pulse point breaking his long-lasting composure.
“Something came up, got to go,” he blurted out, hurriedly dropping his headset over his desk before standing up with you in his arms.
Hastily grabbing onto his shoulders, you studied his expression while he held you—features relaxed, a semblance of a smile on his lips, it seemed as though his previous exasperation had dispersed without warning, eyes now filled with nothing but adoration. He mooned over your dazed features, clouded by unbearable lust as you continue to grind on him despite your position, sending gentle waves of pleasure up his spine and aggravating his need to stuff you full of his cum. Until you’re fucked-out and leaking, mumbling repetitions of his name into the sheets, begging for a break while he pounds into your overstimulated cunt.
He laid you down onto the mattress, a hand on your spine to soften your descent, contrary to the replaying images of how he planned to take you, to fuck you senseless, to watch your pussy spit his load out only to finger it back into your womb.
“Oh baby, I’m so sorry,” he ran his hands up the sides of your body, pressing his lips to the exposed skin of your neck as he spoke. “You’ve been so good, haven’t you? ‘Been such a needy slut for Youngie,” slipping his cock out, he swiftly discarded of your panties and fitted himself back inside your heat, fingers pushing up the material of your shirt to grab handfuls of your tits. “Let me make it up to you, ‘wanna give you all my love.”
#panda's 2k sleepover o(≧▽≦)o#cromernet#jung wooyoung x reader#jung wooyoung smut#wooyoung x reader#wooyoung smut#ateez x reader#ateez smut#jung wooyoung scenarios#wooyoung scenarios#ateez scenarios
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Glorified Assistant (Iridescent, Part 2)
A/N: This is more for Maeve and Spencer!! And honestly I hate writing enemies to lovers, I believe in makeout on sight, so enjoy me trying to make a believable hatred.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!OC.
Summary: She’s been given paid leave to basically be Spencer’s assistant, and it almost isn’t worth it.
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings: swearing, spencer is an ass™
Parts: Pt1, Pt3
Let me stress, this is not Maeve from the show, but my own Maeve just named the same to send Spencer into hell whenever he thinks about it.
Here is more of Maeve and Spencer.
Maeve thought she was home and free.
She hadn’t been fired (score!), and now Spencer was going away for his mandated thirty days off. Apparently he was doing some teaching at the local college, good for him, it also means they won’t have to interact and hopefully he gets his head out of his ass so that she doesn’t cry when they work together.
They’d left on a particularly sore note, considering that she’d been the one to drive him home and he made it very clear how much he hated the entire interaction.
Of course, he didn’t say a word, struggling to fit into her little, gorgeous dark blue mini and then clenching white-knuckled to his knees for the entire journey. He, actually, didn’t say a thing until he got out of the car, slamming the door shut and turning to scowl at her.
“You’re a fucking maniac. Take some more damn lessons.”
As he stormed off into his apartment, annoyingly only five minutes from her own building, she grumbled under her breath. She’d only grazed maybe one curb, and that wasn’t even her fault, it jumped out at her.
Whatever, she’d been able to sleep easy knowing that she wouldn’t have to see him for several more weeks, giving her time to prepare.
…
Until she was woken by her phone ringing at 5am, answering it blindly because she’s used to work calling her at stupid hours. It was her boss.. however, she was asked to take thirty days of paid leave - which she’s surprised the Bureau can even afford - to be the one to take Spencer too and from the college and just kind of shepherd him around for whatever he needed.
Apparently his car, old and vintage as it was, had been idle for too long and wouldn’t start. Since Spencer can’t be bothered to sort it out, and Maeve lives closest, and she’s his partner, obviously this falls to her to deal with.
Maeve, forever a pushover and unable to say no to any figure of authority, agreed and practically threw her phone across the room when she was done.
Understandably, she didn’t get any more sleep, getting ready for the day with the only solace that he looks like an idiot in her car. Making them both a coffee and putting them into her reusable travel cups, trying not to listen to the little voice telling her to drive into a wall.
After about ten minutes of calling him and getting no answer, she gets out of her illegally parked car and storms up. Although it’s really hard to storm anywhere in an elevator.
Hammering on his door, it took all of two seconds before it flew open and he barged past her, causing her to scowl over at him.
“Damn! Watch it! What’s your problem today?”
He barely looked at her, locking the door behind her as he struggled with a bunch of papers in his hands. A harsh frown on his face that matched his equally-pissed voice.
“Fucking coffee machine broke.”
“I got you one already, Christ..” Sucking in a breath and following after him as he goes for the stairs, thankfully he only lives on the third floor. “What’s with the papers?”
Spencer went ahead of her on the stairs, and she found herself rushing after him and his stupidly long legs. Cursing him with all the colourful words that she knows on her way after him.
“Car insurance, I’m driving today.”
Insurance? He got insured on her car without telling her? All to avoid her driving. This man is a level of petty that teenage girls aspire to be, and she has to resist the urge to pout as she trailed out of the building after him.
“But why? My driving wasn’t--”
“Stop asking so many questions and get in your little clown car.”
Quietly fuming, she didn’t even thank him as he held open the passenger door for her, sliding into the seat and picking up her coffee. Drinking it and trying to squash the thoughts of throttling him.
As he gets into the driver seat and immediately starts rearranging everything, her mirrors, seat, radio, she wonders just how long it would take for someone to realise that he’s missing.
Before he even drove off, gripping the wheel far too hard for her liking, he spoke lowly and glared ahead. As if he was stopping himself from glaring at her.
“Don’t come up to my apartment again. I will come to you. I expect you to be ready by six thirty, and since you have a working machine, you can make the coffees.”
“.. just drive already.”
She’s going to kill him by the end of this.
Considering she got paid to leave to, essentially, be Spencer’s glorified assistant, she decided to make the most of it.
Plus, annoyingly, his lectures are actually pretty interesting - as much as she tried to stop giving a shit. Between running to get him more coffees, again assistant, and handing out things to the students, she gets to sit and just listen to him talk about whatever content he chooses.
Psychopaths, mainly, their brains and behaviours, which she enjoyed immensely when she studied psychology and criminology. Damn, but.. he’s really good to listen to.
By the third lecture of the day, she was sat at the desk to the side of the platform, usually reserved for teaching assistants, scribbling in a pretty lilac notebook she bought from the student store. Taking actual notes for his lecture, thoroughly enjoying the content of the lecture and not the fact that it’s Spencer.
Spencer had noticed, immediately, of course, and hated it.
He doesn’t know what she’s hoping to achieve, or prove, because it definitely isn’t impressing him, and he can’t fathom the idea that she’s doing the work to just do the work. Why would she, after he’s purposely been an ass to her purely for existing.
There’s no way she’s actually just paying attention.
So, to test her, for his own morbid curiosity and the need to try and embarrass her in front of all these people, he decided it would be fun to throw random questions to her. Not even related to the topic he was covering. To him, she doesn’t seem like the kind of person to handle stress well.
As he proposed hypothetical questions to the students, he turned to Maeve with a grin on his face, which she finds much more unnerving than a scowl. Hands clapping together as he brought all the attention onto her.
“And for my.. assistant.” Oh, yeah, she absolutely hates that, even more than his smug little grin. “What are the disadvantages of Mary Ainsworth’s study when examining infant attachment?”
Now it was time for her own smug little grin to settle on her lips, which he certainly didn’t like the implications of.
It was clear that he hadn’t expected her to know the answer, or even have enough of a knowledge base to even remotely know what he was talking about. Thankfully she had always been a pushover, and when her friends begged for her to sit in on their presentations in college, she learnt a lot. Especially the ones who presented developmental psychology.
Also, a few times she opted to speak in front of lectures purely because she felt bad for the lecturers when no one would volunteer, which meant she was quickly forced to grow out of her fear of public speaking. Leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms, getting comfortable.
“Mary Ainsworth was American. And she made an American based model, off American children and families, testing it solely in America. It cannot be generalised to other countries.”
“But-”
He tried to cut her off, but she wasn’t done yet. That wasn’t nearly enough to feel like she’d finally won something between them.
“And. When it was, by Kroonenberg and Ijzendoorn, it was proven to have terrible generalisation. Because other cultures and countries have very different ways of rearing children that don’t fit her American guidelines.”
Spencer looked like he wanted to vault the desk and strangle her, and if it weren’t for the crowd of whispering students, he probably would’ve done. Giving him a soft smile, which only he knew was completely fake, she picked her pen back up and tapped her notebook.
“If that’s all, Doctor Reid, I was enjoying your lecture on psychopathic brains.”
And as she looks back down, he has to force himself to continue lecturing to curb the rumours he can hear being created by suddenly-dejected female students. Trying not to sigh at the knowledge that people are going to think they’re sleeping together.
Throwing one last glare her way, not even needing his profiling to know that she so gets off on calling him ‘Doctor Reid’. The simultaneous irritation and begrudging admiration was making him dizzy, wanting nothing more to chuck something at her head.
Whatever, on the way home, he’ll take the longest route he knows to run her petrol down to nothing. Anything to get another mental tally on their growing rivalry.
Want more?! Good!
#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#criminal minds fic#spencer reid x oc
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Can you do like y/n cursing bc she was mad and idle members not liking it and they told yuqi/minnie (chose one) to put her in her place (G!P)
Why have 1 when you can have 2✌️😜 maybe I’ll make Pt.2….this was so fucking hot..
Language!
The girls loved you. You were their pride and joy, their sweet maknae, pretty, and overall just the happy pill of the group. They loved seeing you smile and would do anything to keep it on your face, that being said…they find you getting more easily fustrated nowadays.
Maybe it was because of the stress of comeback season, maybe it was being tired of the shitty company, maybe you were overworked, or maybe you just were upset for reasons they didn’t know. Point is when you got annoyed or mad….you would curse.
It could be something small, like you mess up your part in a song, a small dance move, or whatever. The word would just fly out your mouth so naturally. the girls would hear “Fuck.” “SHIT!” “Bitch!” And they hated hearing it out your mouth.
Soyeon would glare at you when she heard you curse making you even more annoyed, Miyeon tried flicking your forehead to see if that would work but it only resulted in your forehead getting red and tears falling out your eyes (making Miyeon cry and apologize each time), Soojin would yell out “Language!” but that did nothing other than make you all pouty, Shuhua thought doing it back at you would cancel it out but if anything that made it worse.
The girls were out of ideas so they told Minnie and Yuqi to handle it making both girls smile. “Don’t worry, we know how to get our sweet y/nnie to stop” Minnie whispered to Miyeon giving her a kiss. “Good because if I hear one more swear out of her mouth I’m going to lose it!” Soyeon stressed making Yuqi laugh.
Yuqi and you were working on a dance. You were in charge of making the choreography for LUCID and you were doing good. But then you started stressing the little details on whether your motions were good and if it made sense.
Yuqi tried to remind you it was just a practice but you didn’t care, when you couldn’t get your arm movement down that’s when she heard it. “Fuck! I’m sick of this shit!” You had said so clear and loud Yuqi knew she didn’t mistake what she heard.
She walked over to you saying nothing. She turned you around and pushed you down to your knees, she took her pants off slapping her cock on your face.
It was obvious what she wanted you to do, but you were so frustrated you decided to be a brat. You crossed your arms in front of your chests looking at her with a pouty look. This angered Yuqi, not only were you cussing but now you were being a brat and not listening to her? Ok here it comes.
She pushed her tip to your lips making you open your mouth. She kept pushing til her whole cock was in your mouth hitting the back of your throat making you gag. She glared down at you with disappointment and arousal.
She held your face as she thrusted deep and hard in your mouth making you deep throat her. You gagged on her cock not use to her fucking your mouth with such intensity making her slap your face a bit.
“I’m gonna teach you how to watch your fucking mouth.” She growled out fucking your throat harder with each word. You had tears pricking your eyes but she didn’t care, “instead of cursing I’ll make you use this pretty mouth of yours for something else. I hate when you curse. It pisses me the fuck off.”
You only whined against her cock in response to what she said. Yuqi loved the way you whined against her cock, the vibrations it sent made her fuck your mouth harder. Tears ran down your face every time she snapped her hips into your mouth making her moan at the sight of you crying on her cock.
Lines of drool fell from your lips as Yuqi came closer, she let out moans closing her eyes as she prepared herself. She let out a loud deep moan as she came deep down your throat. She pulled out as she saw you hold it in your mouth your cheeks like chipmunks.
She held your head back making it impossible for you not to swallow. You listened and swallowed all of it, she let go of your face as you stuck your tongue out showing you swallowed. She smiled as she kissed your forehead. “Good girl.” She tucked her cock away back in her boxers and pants.
You were so wet and looked up at her with pleading eyes about to ask if she would fuck you. She held you slapping your face lightly as she shook her head. “Bad girls don’t get cum.” You pouted but leaned into her touch feeling upset but understood as you sighed.
She made sure that if she ever heard you curse again she would fuck your throat so hard you would barely be able to speak.
The other time you cursed you were alone with Minnie in the studio. You guys were working on the song for your upcoming comeback.
You kept re-recording this one part. You hated how it came out, it felt like every time you sang it or rapped it, each time sounded wrong. You didn’t know what it was but nothing was sounding right.
Minnie tried to give you words of encouragement but you were so distracted her praises fell on deaf ears. You tried to record this next part but stuttered messing up the line.
That’s when Minnie heard it, her face scrunching up to one of disgust. “Shit! I can’t get none of this shit fucking right!”
Minnie said nothing getting up from where she was pulling you out of the recording booth making you yelp. You were about to complain but she silenced you with a bruising kiss. She nipped your lips as her hands made their way underneath your shirt and harshly groped your skin.
You moaned softly against her lips as she laid you down on the couch. She put her thigh between your thighs parting them as she began to undress you.
Your fingers got tangled in Minnie’s hair as she went down marking your neck and collar bones. She took her cock out and pushed inside you with no warnings.
You both moaned as she began thrusting into you roughly not even giving you a minute to adjust. Just moving in and out of you causing you to moan and stutter. The couch thumping against the wall with each thrust.
“You wanna curse? Each time you even think of saying another curse word I’ll make sure you can barely speak only stutter.” You moaned unable to respond and when you did try all you could do was stuttered. Minnie smirked as she gripped your hips reaching deeper inside you.
She watched as you came down feeling your walls clenching down on her cock. She pulled out making you wail as you begged her to let you cum. She shoved her cock in your mouth harshly face fucking you til she filled your throat with cum.
She pulled out of your mouth putting her clothes back on as you beg and pleaded with her. She grabbed your face bringing you close to her lips. “Learn not to cuss as much slut and then I’ll let you orgasm.”
She pecked your lips going back to work on the song she was working on earlier. All as you laid there frustrated and horny.
#gidle#gidle thoughts#gidle smut#kpop gidle#idle smut#fem! reader#yuqi#minnie#g!p minnie#minnie idle#minnie smut#g!p yuqi#yuqi idle#gidle yuqi#yuqi smut#minqi
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THE ATTRACTIVE THINGS ELLIE WILLIAMS DOES
maintaining eye contact. especially when she’s feeling quite cocky and is enjoying the way you bashfully look away from her. on a more serious note, ellie is a very sentimental person; she lets you know she’s listening by watching and studying you.
man-spreading. she wasn’t aware of it at first, she just simply did it out of comfort (not that you’re complaining). though she did start to notice the way you would stare at her lower half and fidget in your seat whenever she’d widen the space between her knees and move her hips forward. she didn’t have to confront you to know you were turned on.
planting light kisses on your shoulders and neck. loves how soft your skin feels under her lips. she could spend hours worshipping every single part of your body if she had the chance, but her favorite place to kiss you (beside your mouth) is your neck and shoulders. they’re just so pretty, especially when they’re decorated with hickeys.
doing your chores without having to ask. one of her biggest love languages is acts of service. because she sometimes struggles with comforting you, she shows her affection another way. for example, if you had a pretty rough night—or day—you can definitely guarantee that she would run you a bath and just sit with you. the following morning she’d let you sleep in and upon waking up you’d find that the dishes from the previous night's dinner are already dried and put away, the laundry has been ironed and hung, and any clutter found on the coffee and end tables has been returned to its original place of resting.
complimenting and sweet talking you during your worst moments. she will hold back your hair when you’re hunched over the toilet sick to your stomach, rubbing soothing circles on your back and making sure you’re as comfortable as one could get in your condition. “god, i feel and look like shit, stop staring at me.” to which she'd chuckle and scoot closer, adjusting her hold on your hair as she replied with, “on the contrary, i think you look hot like this.”
stretching after she’s been idle for awhile. you love to stare at her while she stretches, and, well, who wouldn’t? every time she rolls her neck, exposing just a glimpse of her hidden adam’s apple, you can’t help the want to practically pounce on her right then and there. and when she raises her arms, letting a sliver of her toned abdomen show, she relishes the way you squirm and try so hard not to look at her.
swearing under her breath and licking her lips. she's well aware of this habit of hers. however, she didn't realize that this always caught your attention until after she noticed you ogling her mouth as she hauled big-ass hay bales into the barn. in your defense, you were just a few feet away, giving the sheep their grain, when you heard the faint “fuck” slip from ellie's lips. from then on the habit became more noticeable.
getting excited about her interests. watching the corners of her mouth quirk upwards always puts a smile on your face. you could sit and listen to her forever if it meant that she could talk about the things she loves to read and draw. the way her eyes scrunch ever so slightly, and her eyes light up...you make it your mission every time you go out on patrol to look for more comics and star cards, or even small trinkets you think she would like.
#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#ellie x reader#tlou x reader#tlou#tlou2#tlou ellie#tlou imagines#ellie williams tlou#ellie tlou#ellie williams x female reader#the last of us x reader#the last of us#the last of us part two#the last of us part 2#the last of us part ii#wlw#sapphic#the last of us ellie#the last of us oneshot
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imagine you're sad over something and Itto tries to make Ushi do a dumb trick or something to make you laugh or smile and he's just mad and doesn't listens because he thinks Itto is why you're sad
Tears for Broken Promises [Arataki Itto]
Content: Final Fantasy VII Rebirth Spoilers (Extremely Minor, Tagged Regardless), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Short & Sweet, Reader-Insert, POV Second Person
Pronouns: None
Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!
This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.
You placed your controller down as the screen returned to the main menu, informing you of what was basically the new game content (without actually calling it that). You stared at Cloud blankly, as he went through his idles.
Today, you beat Final Fantasy VII Rebirth, and as expected, it wrecked you. You knew it would, there was always something unexpectedly amazing in about every chapter, but the final chapter…was a lot. And because of it, you were expecting to cry, however—
“Hey, hey, hey! Why’re you cryin’?” Itto, your partner, who was sitting with you for the end of this ride, was fretting over the sudden flood of tears. “Well, I know why you’re crying, but why are you crying so much?”
You just shook your head, unable to speak. You simply curled in on yourself, focusing on what was to come in the finale.
While you were wallowing, Ushi, who originally was with the two of you, but left to bask in the sun, entered the room. He looked at you, then Itto, then you, then back to Itto. He chuffed out a breath, digging his hooves into the carpet.
“Oh, hey Beefcake, how’s it—WOAH WAIT!” Ushi charged for Itto, ramming into his stomach—hard.
Itto slipped off the couch, crashing to the floor with a harsh thud. “Oh…yep…that is definitely gonna leave a mark.”
“Ushi, stop it. Itto didn’t do anything.” You shifted, opening your arms to him. “Come’re.”
Ushi purposely dug his hooves into Itto abdomen as he shifted to jump in your lap.
“Yeah, nah, I’m fine…you two just…keep doing that…” Itto mumbled offhandedly, pulling himself off the floor, and heading to the bathroom.
Once you heard the door click shut, you spoke. “Sorry about this, Ushi. I’m just a bit emotional over the game. I may be sad now, but later, I’ll be fine! I mean…even now, I’m super excited about what will happen in the last game, but also…terrified.” You chuckled, brushing away a stray tear. “It’s all really confusing…”
Ushi nudged you gently, huffing.
“I get it. I’m bonded to Itto after all.”
Of course, he didn’t say that, but you knew him well enough at this point to read him.
You smiled, “Yep! We’re in the same boat!” Then stood from the couch. “Now, let’s go help Itto, he’s been in the bathroom for way too long—Also! You need to apologize, Ushi.”
“Fine. I’ll do it for you.”
“That’s why you’re my Sweetcakes.”
So as y'all can tell, I beat FFVIIRebirth today. I'm really fucked up by it, so much so that I don't fucking remember what happened (and what I do remember, it's all discombobulated). This is what happens when you game for 4 hours straight (not the longest I've gone, but it was definitely intense).
Ko-Fi | Commission | Masterlist
#alie requests#alie requester: anon#genshin x reader#arataki itto x reader#final fantasy vii rebirth spoilers#ffvii rebirth spoilers#extremely minor but im still tagging it
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Pairing: Rhinedottir x Gn!Reader
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Dark Content, Rhinedottir uses She/Her Pronouns, Reader uses No Pronouns, Abusive Relationship, Abuse/Assault, Rhinedottir is a bitch (affectionate), Gender Neutral Reader, Human Experimentation, Manipulation, Less than 1k idk i wrote this in tumblr drafts lmao.
A/n: Okay, so I am writing a longer Rhine thing but for now I needed to get this out of my brain and into the wild. A quick forewarning, Rhine in this is very much made with my personal headcanons in mind so just please be aware of that. I know she hasn't made an official appearance but with how much we've heard about her in lore i cannot stop myself from being obsessed. Please, make sure you read all the warnings before reading. Thanks!
Tagging: @auphelia
Impatient. Chatty. Annoying. These are just some of the words Rhine would use to describe you. There were no buts, just Rhine and her disgust which permeated the walls of her lab. She looked over her notes again, and again, until she’d concluded that she was indeed dissatisfied with the work you both had done. Well, her work, but you were willing enough. Sadly as much as she loathed the idea of rethinking her strategy, she had no other choice.
In the meantime Rhine had no option but to map out what needed to be done and with what. As she thought it out in her mind, connecting dots that others would find irrelevant, her ears grew warm from the surrounding buzz of the room. The lack of sound often seemed the loudest at times to some. Although Rhine would disagree. The empty air was needed, a necessary measure. While others found comfort in idle chit chat she saw it nothing more than a distraction. Talking often got in the way of more important things, such as moments like this.
The silence was nice, forgiving even, but of course, you had to open that trap of yours. She nearly lost her composure listening to your mindless chatter sometimes. Of course her best test subject would be the most troublesome of them all. At times she wished she’d make a mistake—an impossible yet comforting thought—and “accidentally” end the experiment early. Never mind how utterly unlikely that would be. It’s that thought which was ripped from her upon hearing you ask another loud and idiotic question.
“What are you doing, Miss.Rhine?” Your voice is sweet with an ugly aftertaste.
She ignores you but her eye twitches.
Absolutely frustrating.
You press further, asking why she’s ignoring you, and it isn’t long before she’s letting out a growl.
She drops her clipboard and lunges a hand towards your face, forcing your gaze at hers. Her long, dirty nails dig into your cheeks causing them to hurt just enough to shut you up.
“I will cut out your tongue if you do not silence it.” She snapped.
Silence finally thickened the surrounding air, staining a reminder into your throat as you swallowed hard. Rhine was usually patient, something she had to force herself to be after many years with you, but you had a way of testing her limits. Your voice was just one of her many irritants. She scoffed and let go of your face roughly, recklessly throwing back your head till it hit the surface behind you. Finally, she could get back to the task at hand, she thought to herself.
Sadly, she made the mistake of glancing over at your teary eyed face. You averted your eyes the instant hers locked onto yours. You sniffled and flinched as she moved her hand to pinch her nose. God, you were so fucking insufferable. It was always something with you. Well, she very well couldn't continue her work if she didn't have a proper subject.
Reluctantly she stood up and scooped you up into her arms and sighed loudly. "Stop crying."
You began to cry harder and she groaned out loud. Rocking you in her arms she stood still aside from the very mechanical rocking movements. Rhine had better things to do than coddle you, she couldn't let herself get into the habit of spoiling you. No, that would be most troublesome. It was only a few moments before you were a puddle in her arms, quiet and reserved. She could finally get back to the job at hand. Just as she started reading over her notes, again, she caught herself scowling down at you.
She tightened her jaw, grinding down on her teeth. Had she gone soft? Weak in the knees for some nobody. The mere idea left a sour taste in her mouth. Had Rhine finally fallen from grace? No, such things she reassured herself. Besides, much work was to be done and she very well couldn't be bothered to dwell on useless worries such as that. For now she supposed it was alright, it was keeping you quiet, after all. I suppose. She was not motherly by any means, but she could at least pretend long enough to shut you up.
#rhinedottir x reader#rhinedottir x you#rhinedottir x y/n#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin x y/n#rhinedottir
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Heyoo idk if reqs are open but..
I haven't seen anyone do anything for Thomas(2003) when his arm got chopped off in the movie. Maybe the reader seeing the injury and fussing over him ?
convalescence (thomas hewitt + reader)
summary: you look after tommy through a rough recovery
warning(s): BLOOD, mild-moderate body horror, mention of infection and illness
an: the song reader’s singing is reaching for the moon by Ella Fitzgerald. also fun fact, i first saw the 2003 version on vhs :)
Luda Mae wouldn’t let you touch him. He’d stumbled through the front door and whacked the bleeding stump on its frame by mistake, wailing hoarsely. even as she bore his weight up the staircase, blood soaking down her dress, her teeth were bared at you.
“don’t you lay a finger on him.” she’d hissed. the agonizing noises Thomas made were making it hard to stand idle, but you held your tongue. no matter how much you loved Tommy, he was still her baby boy first. once she’d all but dragged him into the bathroom, you found yourself alone. the stairs dripped. the smear of his blood on the doorframe already turning sticky. it was that hungry kind of quiet that doesn’t let you sit still. so, you grabbed an armful of rags and the jug of peroxide from the kitchen and set to scrubbing. it was the only thing to keep you from breaking, sitting there and listening to him howl in agony.
that had been a little less than a week ago. that girl — Erin, you think her name was — had skipped town with that hitchhiker’s baby in Hoyt’s car. Luda Mae had done what she could to clean up his shoulder. Monty wouldn’t shut his mouth for the first few days, until she set him straight with a cast iron pan. Hoyt was barely in the house at all, spending most of his time out scavenging for a new vehicle. as much as she wanted to be by his side, the world didn’t stop turning. Luda Mae had work to do. that left you to watch over Tommy.
he was near unresponsive for the most part. fever wracked his whole body and the stump was a different sickening color every time you went to change his dressings. he’d hum lowly whenever you wiped his body clean with a cool cloth, maybe his way of saying thanks, maybe just unconscious relief. you were hardly sure he was awake half the time.
but you sing to him. there weren’t a lot of records in the house — nobody really had the time for that kind of thing — but you made do. pulled a few off the dusty hall shelf, plucked some more out of the pile of abandoned luggage out back. most of them were warped to the point of being unplayable from the heat, but a few good ones survived.
the moon and you, appear to be
so near and yet, so far from me
you try to lower your voice to a croon, but you’re tired. so, so tired. you’re not sure you’ve slept in the days since.
and here am i, on a night in June,
reaching for the moon and you
i wonder if we’ll ever meet,
my song of love is incomplete
it’s fucking corny. you know this. you know. but your voice breaks. your own sharp inhale takes you by surprise. you hiccup. you hold your breath, hoping the overwhelm will go away.
i’m just the words, looking for the tune
reaching for the moon and you.
heat is swarming behind your eyes. this is stupid. you shouldn’t be the one crying, with your two arms by your sides. not while he sweats and aches and whines in his sleep.
scooting in from your perch at the edge of the bed, you lay beside him. it’s unnatural, him flat on his back, the space between you. somehow, he senses this. somehow. his fingers curl, and he swats weakly at the space beside him. the dip in the mattress where you’d usually be. his hand, clammy and visibly shaking now, finds your leg and grips it, pulling. you slide down closer to him. the record player crackles. it’s only when you drape his arm around your shoulders and press your head to his chest that he seems satisfied. his breaths slow, lengthen. you can hear the rhythmic thud of his heart. he’s alive. he’s alive.
#sorry for disappearing off the face of the earth btw#classes be damned and whatnot#slasher x reader#slashers x reader#slasher fanfiction#thomas hewitt#tcm 2003#thomas hewitt x reader
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Please please PLEASE give us more soldier boy! I have barrelled through all the soldier boy content on this hell site and I am jonesing for another fix! Also yours is so poignant and darkly beautiful so just anything. I wouldn’t say no to a little smut tho if you’re good with that but if not just keep up the good work <3
Complex
Description: Soldier Boy wastes no time entering your life. Knocking down the very pieces of you that you thought you had built up over the years. However, just as quickly as he came--was equally the same when he decided he was finished. No matter if it hurt you or not.
Pairings: Soldier Boy x Reader
Warnings: Soldier Boy is his own warning, language, light implications of smut, and loneliness.
Note: Lemme’ feed you darlin’
———
I’m 21 the edge is razor thin
Between being numb—and feeling everything
Good days only serve as relief again
Soldier Boy didn’t deserve you. The young and innocent girl you were, he did not deserve you.
Now I watch as I waste away my days and nights
It’s a cross dissolve of a scene I’ve play before
And the leading role that I thought I’d hold
Doesn’t listen to me anymore.
He left you alone in that bed after he was finished with you. Every time the two of you intertwined as one. The way he found himself deeper inside of you feeling the inner workings of your hot and desperate soul.
The way your body pleaded to be touched; to be loved. Your hands trying to slip into his-only to be rejected and held against your will over top of you. Soldier Boy, Ben. He would never give you what you wanted.
You gave him your very innocence, in return he gave you nothing but regret for your own willingness to throw yourself at him.
You felt stupid; you felt useless.
But I’m wearing his boxers
I’m being a good wife
“I gotta’ head out, Princess. Keep the bed warm. I’m not done with that pretty little ass of yours.” He said, the butt of the joint in his mouth bobbing as he spoke.
You didn’t answer him. Only nodding as you turned over.
You knew he wouldn’t be back for awhile.
Normally you would have crawled, naked from the bed to press a sloppy kiss to his lips, your scent mixed with his wafting the room.
You didn’t bother this time. He didn’t care. You should have listened to your friends.
Soldier Boy didn’t care about you, no matter how hard he tried to make you believe. You knew you weren’t the only girl he was sleeping with, you’d seen how he was with women.
It made you sick.
It made you hate him.
The feelings never lasted long before you were back in his arms as if he were yours forever.
We won’t be together
But maybe the next life
I need him like water
He lives in a landslide
You were a fucking mess. Why did you do this to yourself? Getting with the man you knew right off the bat was bad news. Yet, you kept the left side of your bed warm every night like the two of you were an actual item.
Yes, you wanted that ideation to be true —but it was all mindless daydreams that would never come true.
Before you knew it, there he was again. Slipping inside of you, tearing at your skin, like a rabid dog. Hungry for more than idle flesh. Heat rising from your flushed skin, nails digging their graves into his back .
“Beautiful.” He would murmur in between grunts and moans.
“Absolutely stunning, Princess.”
After your routine of self loathing was over, he would watch you walk to the bathroom, head propped up on an arm. As if he were infatuated by merely your presence.
That was a lie too.
Everything he did or said was a lie. And you found that hating yourself was easier than telling him that what you both had was over.
I cry in his bathroom
He turns off the big light
When he asked you to go with him to the bar-it took you so far aback. You had thought you had shifted to a different dimension. There the two of you sat, drinking from the whole bottle he bought for you two to share. You were not a drinker. Yes, maybe one drink was all you had, and you knew that this wasn’t a date. Made it very clear he wasn’t dating you in the beginning.
He just didn’t want to be alone.
None of the other women wanted to go out like you did. You cancelled plans just to share the time with him-and for the simple fact is that without you he’d fall apart and you would find him on your doorstep, out of his mind and drunk.
You were keeping together just fine.
I’m being a cool girl
I’m keeping it so tight
I carry him home while
My friends have a good night
I need him like water
He thinks that I’m alright
I’m not feeling human
I think he’s a good guy
After everything he had put you through, you thought you could handle anything he threw at you.
“I think we should see other people.”
You told yourself that he would be back. But after last night, he never showed back up at your door.
You told yourself you wouldn’t do a lot of things after Soldier Boy.
You were a liar too.
Triangular, I can see them now
Three points at which I let myself down
I was just a girl, what's the excuse now?
You found yourself where you and him first met. It was the roof of an old warehouse that had been abandoned. It overlooked a large portion of the city and was high enough to have you getting ideas with your unstable mind.
Too regular, this pattern
I've been taking shelter in reaching new highs
When I was nineteen I wanted to die
You took another heavy drink of the bottle in your hands, as you emptied it. With enough force, you reeled back to chuck the bottle, hearing it break on the ground below.
You laughed; your phone buzzed.
From: SB☺️💕
What’re you up to? I stopped by your place but you weren’t home.
Your phone buzzed again.
From: SB☺️💕
I miss you.
You typed out a message the best you could.
To: SB☺️💕
Playing Life where we first met, seeing how much it takes before I go overboard.
It wasn’t the healthiest thing to send him. But you shut off your phone and stood. Tip-toeing along the edge of the roof while you swayed left and right, horribly keeping your balance. Thoughts of staying safe was shoved out the window. There was no going back now.
Now I just want to kill you
But I don't want to paint you the victim
“What the fuck are you doing?” You felt Soldier Boy tug you back from the ledge, your back hitting his chest.
You blatantly started swatting at him, trying to get out of his grip. He firmly planted you in front of him. A look of worry was across his face. Something you have never seen from him before.
“Calm down-“ you slapped him, which loosened the hold he had on you. You immediately made a beeline towards the door.
“Wait. Please. I-I’m sorry.” He said which made your hand freeze on the doorknob to the stairway.
“For what?” You replied.
“I hurt you. You gave me everything and I fucked you over.” He stared directly at you, you raised your head to meet his gaze.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I need to get home.” You answered, but he was much quicker, his hand slammed the door shut-holding it.
“Let me walk you home, at least. We can talk about this.” He gestured.
You sighed.
And I talk a good game
I'd die for just the promise you'd listen
Soldier Boy had lost just about everything. Sure, you forgave him. But it didn’t mean things were just okay with the two of you. He had been pulled into more and more hero work, while you waited on him to come home. Just like old times. The routine cycling back to normal.
I’m wearing his boxers
I’m being a good wife
We won’t be together
But maybe the next life
The next life could wait, you were sure that things were going to get better.
I need him like water
He lives on a landslide
I cry in his bathroom
He turns off the big light
“Come to bed, Princess would ya’?” He smiles at you, motioning you to let him hold you against him.
You had been reading in the window seat, placing the bookmark to save your spot for the next time you opened it.
I’m being a cool girl
I’m keeping it so tight
I carry him home while
My friends have a good night
The drinking subsides and the two of you found other possibilities to keep the both if you engaged and entertained. Like your reading and him whittling small trinkets he would make for you to put on the hanging shelves of collectables you had in your place.
I need him like water
He thinks that I’m alright
I’m not even human
I think he’s a good guy
Soldier Boy smirks as he pulled you down by the neckline of your shirt. Your lips connected with his in a slow paced embrace.
But it’s a complex
It’s a complex
It’s a complex
I’m a complex.
Soldier Boy and your relationship with him was far from easy. It was harsh, frustrating and complicated.
It was strange.
But loving, as the two sides of the coin became one.
It was a complex that you would never let slip through your fingers again.
#jensen ackles#jensen ackled#askmishapoc#soldierboyedit#soldier boy🍦🪖🎯#soldier boy the boys#the boys soldier boy#soldier boy is his own warning#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy#the boys
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hey, @bellathetmntgeckolady, thanks for the tag!! ( •̀ ω •́ )✧
i've not done one of these in a long time, so this'll be fun! i think things like this are nice little community builders; it's a shame not to see them as often.
"the rules of the game are to write one song for every letter in your url, and then tag as many people as there are letters in your url."
reposting because those reblog chains get longggg.
also, i made a temporary spotify playlist if that's easier listening.
r - reverence ; hammock
e - end of small sanctuary ; akira yamaoka
d - dúlaman ; celtic woman
s - spanish sahara ; foals
t - tsunami ; fløre
r - rainy day ; alec holowka
i - inner universe ; origa
n - no turning back ; olivier deriviere, eric maria couturier
g - give a fuck ; tezatalks
r - resting grounds ; christopher larkin
a - apocalypse ; sleeperstar
v - voidfish (plural) ; rachel rose mitchell
e - empires ; ruelle
n - neglected space ; imogen heap
if you're tagged, no pressure to take part! i'll be tagging a mix of pals and folks i've never tagged before but who seem in my orbit. ...if your @ didn't work, i hope you see this somehow. <xD;;; take care!
@plantdonut, @grozva, @joyfuladorable, @sftgnge, @gatorkid509, @mojimallow, @badatusernames, @vdragon-creations, @adenthemage, @roquog, @maddys-nerd-blog, @yellowhollyhock, @figuringitoutasigoalong, @cheesy-che, @sassatello
because i'm insufferable, i'll also put some small character/song relevant thoughts under the cut. as a treat to myself.
reverence: this song gives me the feeling of being out on casey's farmhouse porch on late summer afternoon or at sunset. everyone's just kind of basking in the warmth, downtime, and company of each other. some might be napping, those awake are making quiet, idle conversation. it's just nice.
end of small sanctuary: this one always makes me think of raph and gwyn, specifically, sitting on city high-point at sunset. much like how it's used in SH3 when heather is just being a teenager at the mall and is probably music she'd listen to, this very much gives me the energy and warmth of raph and gwyn sitting in the setting sun, high above the city, with maybe some food and light conversation. a breath between The Horrors™.
dúlaman: i've been trying to find and listen to more celtic/irish music for a lot of reasons (so if you know any pls gib), but one is to better cultivate the sound and energy of liáfsian folksongs and music.
spanish sahara: how could i make this list without one of the songs that never fails to fuck me up. spanish sahara has been the driving 'score' in my head when it's come to a number of story scenes or character moments due to the slow build and emotional release of the song as well as the lyrics. i dunno. this song just moves and inspires me in ways i can't quite articulate.
tsunami: this song just feels so strongly like aislinn to me. the lost-lover part, sure, but especially the feeling of drowning and just... the instrumentals/vocals feel like her, too. i associate her a lot with water.
rainy day: no specific scenario here, but this score makes me think of and want to draw don or leo. the game it's from kind of has a melancholic nostalgia to it, and the vibe sits well with them.
inner universe: this song is all vibes for me, and it always makes me think of entering the territory of one of the liáfsian dragons and crossing paths with it. specifically the dragon i associate with leo.
no turning back: this score is fully for gwyn being on the run. the title, the strings, the faint ticking clock and building drums toward the end, the urgency throughout. it is, for better or worse, a reflection of what so much of her life has felt like.
give a fuck: sounds and feels like a nyxram song. hard to explain, this one just always makes me think of her.
resting grounds: this score's on my playlist for the liáfsian ruins, which is an area in the realm considered to be cursed ground (but no one knows or remembers why). the ruins are beautiful, peaceful. but you never quite have the sense that you're truly alone.
apocalypse: this song always makes me think of PtINL, i can't really explain why. it's on my personal playlist for the fic, and every time it comes on shuffle it just sends me back into thoughts of mikey, aloy, their travels and their bond.
voidfish (plural): first of all: LOVE the voidfish. second, this is another one of those scores that gives me the energy of encountering ancient liáfsian fae.
empires: this song always makes me think of a 'trailer' for gwyn and ash's arc. i think it's accurate not only for how the final conflict between gwyn, ash and darach will go down, but there's a hint at a much older threat in there and "the tides are turned" being that companionship has been found in the turtles.
neglected space: this song, without fail, always makes me think of and want to draw nyxram. there's something sad, lost and desperate to it.
#;radio static#;rosewater park#[ that's gonna be my new dashboard meme & community fun tag i think ]#[ but yeah thank you for the tag!!! :D a fun surprise! ]
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OC Mannerism - Rowley
picrew
Aaand I got tagged by @undyingembers. Thank you so much! 🥰
Adding Rowley for the last round. Who wasn't tagged, who didn't do it yet? Go for it, this is your call!
You find the amazing template by @the-raging-tempest here.
- NO. OF SPOKEN LANGUAGES >> In most universes, 2 fluently. He might decide to learn a third one but only with a strong reason to do so.
- TONE OF VOICE >> high / average / deep
(A tenor with a slight raspy sound to it, neither especially deep nor especially high but he hits higher tones well when he’s singing.)
- ACCENT >> none or at least none that’s clearly placeable.
- DEMEANOR >> confident / shameless / shy / approachable if you dare to / hostile but in a teasing way / mocking / ironic / bold and courageous / insolent
- POSTURE >> often slumped in his spare time / straight when on a mission and his actual body control shows / stiff/ relaxed
HABITS
head tilting / swaying / fidgeting / stuttering / gesturing / arm crossing / strokes chin / er, um, or other interjections / plays with hair or clothing / hands at hips / inconsistent eye contact / maintains eye contact / frequent pausing / sometimes stands close / sometimes stands at a distance
COMPLEXITY (Fill in the circle’s as you wish)
- VOCABULARY >> ⚪️⚪️⚪️⚫️⚪️ Rowley doesn’t speak in lofty and sophisticated terms or only ironically, but he is witty, expressive and creative, with his vocabulary too, and has a very dark sense of humor. Usually, he finds the right words fast, and with the right words I mean the most terrible thing to say in any situation he’s in. He drives of people’s reactions to it. It amuses him and he shamelessly provokes. He may have saved someone’s life a second before, you can be sure he’ll make them forget about it right away by offending them in unexpected ways or by painting himself in the most horrible light and worse than he actually is.
- EMOTION >> ⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️ Haha, no. Usually, he doesn’t show emotions when he speaks. It’s mocking or teasing or factual or just some idle chatting. With him, it needs a certain level of friendship or other forms of closeness (like romantic relationships) to reach a point where he starts to let you see his feelings with words and in general. Once it happens, his way of talking becomes softer, even a touch warmer, and he provides insights that make you realize he listens and observes much more closely than one might suspect.
- SENTENCE STRUCTURE >> ⚪️⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪ You’ll understand what he’s saying. He’ll make sure of it. ❤
PROFANITY
- FREQUENCY >> ⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚫️ All the damn time. Sometimes with a hint of irony to it, sometimes to insult or provoke, sometimes just a few swear words on the way when something goes wrong or casually interwoven in his speech patterns.
- CREATIVITY (in regards to profanity insults) >> ⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚫️ Very creative, he will make up new things on the spot, never heard combinations and unique creations, funny in his better moments, utter nonsense in his worst.
BOLD THAT APPLY
arse / ass / asshole / bastard / bitch / bloody / bugger / bollocks / chicken shit / crap / cunt / dick / frick / fuck / horseshit / motherfucker / piss / prick / pussy / screw / shit / shitass / son of a bitch / twat / wanker / damn / hell
THIS OR THAT
straightforward or and cryptic, yes he manages both at the same time / finding the right word or using the first word that comes to mind / masculinity, neutrality, or femininity / formalities or with abrasiveness / praise or and equivocation / frankness or flattery / excessive or minimal hand gestures / name-calling or magnanimity / friendly or blunt
IMPORTANT QUESTIONS
- DO PEOPLE HAVE A HARD TIME HEARING OR UNDERSTANDING YOUR CHARACTER?
almost always / frequently / rarely / never
- DOES YOUR CHARACTER’S POINT COME ACROSS EASILY WHEN THEY SPEAK?
almost always / frequently/ sometimes / rarely / never
- WOULD YOUR CHARACTER INITIATE CONVERSATIONS?
almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never
- WOULD YOUR CHARACTER BE THE ONE TO END CONVERSATIONS?
almost always / frequently/ sometimes (usually it’s the other person being so annoyed with him they stop talking to him) / rarely / never
- WOULD YOUR CHARACTER USE ‘WHOM’ IN A SENTENCE?
yes/ no / only ironically
- YOUR CHARACTER WANTS TO MAKE A COUNTERPOINT. WHAT WORD DO THEY USE?
but / though / although / however/ perhaps / maybe
- HOW DOES YOUR CHARACTER END CONVERSATIONS?
By annoying the shit out of the other person and finding out how long he can do it until they flee. Sometimes, if someone keeps on rambling about something he’s not interested in, he just mockingly interrupts them and tells them he has to leave.
- WHAT SOCIAL CLASS WOULD OTHERS ASSUME YOUR CHARACTER BELONGS TO, HEARING THEM SPEAK?
upper/ middle / lower
- IN WHAT WAYS DOES THE WAY YOUR CHARACTER SPEAK STAND OUT TO OTHERS?
accent / vocabulary / tone / level / lack of politeness / brusqueness / it doesn’t
Anything that wasn’t touched on?
He can sing and quite well even!
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Can you please write more miles fics? I love el royale and I love miles and your fic is like the only one of him! I love it and your other fics so please write more haha🤍🤍
I believe a few other writers are working on some stories with Miles. What would you like to see me write for him? Send me your thoughts dear readers!
I do have one fic I started for Miles, but it’s much darker than the content I normally write. I wasn’t sure how it would be received by you guys. I have the first chapter sketched out below, but didn’t want to continue if there wasn’t an audience for it.
Tell me what you think!
Summary: Miles has done a lot of bad things in his life but saving you isn’t one of them.
Pairing: Miles Miller x F!Reader
Word Count: 929
Rating: Mature, 18+ only. Violence, kidnapping, reference to drug use, implied forced marriage, and physical abuse.
A/N: Thank you @callsign-phoenix for looking over this.
It’s close to midnight and the hotel is empty. Miles watches the clock, only half-listening to the warble of the tv in the background. In another ten minutes, he can lock up for the night and return to the maintenance closet. He touches the crook of his elbow on instinct, thumb rubbing at the tender patch of skin while he stares at the parking lot.
Thunder cracks across the sky and the lightning that follows is bright enough to make it look like daylight briefly. Rain comes next, pelting down in a thick torrent and continues for a while before easing into a tolerable shower. It’s then Miles sees the black car idling in the closest parking spot. Internally he sighs, knowing this is going to delay his evening plans.
A tall, thin man exits the car and hurries to the passenger side to pull you from the seat. Miles knows something’s wrong the moment he sees your face. Although you’re both wet from the rain it’s clear to him that you’re not shaking from the cold alone. You’re scared. The man beside you has a vice-like grip on your neck, his fingers pressing hard into the delicate skin of your throat. Your dress is torn at the shoulder and your gaze is trained on the scuffed shoes you wear. There’s a cut on your lip that’s bleeding sluggishly.
“Need a room,” he grits out.
Miles stares at you until the man slams his fist on the table. You both flinch and his attention darts back to the older man.
“If you can sign your name on the ledger first,” he says quietly, hands shaking.
“No name, just a fucking room kid,” he barks.
When he fishes a 50-dollar bill out of his wallet Miles sees the handle of a revolver tucked into the man's waistband. He turns away, gathering the change. When he tries to hand it back the man stares at him. Miles falters. It’s too big a tip and Miles knows he’s being paid for his silence, to look the other way. Plenty of guests have tipped him to ignore things – the women they bring to the hotel who aren’t their wives or the drugs they ask him to get, but this time when he takes the money there’s a pit in the bottom of his stomach. Miles doesn’t want to help this man, especially not once you look up at him with tear-filled eyes. He swallows hard and looks at the counter.
“Do you want a separate room for your…” he trails off, glancing at you again.
“We’ll share. Just make sure the room has two beds and be quick about it."
Miles selects a room on the Nevada side. He already knows as he hands over the key that he’s going straight to the corridor to watch. To make sure you’re going to be okay.
“Come on girl,” the man says, dragging you out with him.
Miles waits until you’re both outside to hurriedly make his way to the hidden corridor. He flicks on the speaker and waits. It’s not long until the door opens and the man shoves you into the room hard enough to make you stumble and fall to your knees. Tears spill over your cheeks and you struggle to stand. Miles can see now there’s a long cut on your leg. It’s bleeding freely, running down your calf and disappearing into your shoe.
“Get up,” he barks, grasping your arm and jerking you towards the bed. You don’t struggle, looking entirely defeated as he forces you to sit down on the edge. “Don’t move or I’ll pop you in the face again. Your future husband isn’t exactly happy you ran away the night before the wedding so he doesn't care if you're a little busted up when I bring you back.”
“Please,” you whisper, voice trembling so hard Miles has to strain to hear your words. “I can’t go back.”
The man ignores your pleas, cuffing you to the bedpost. For a second Miles thinks the worst, his heart in his throat, but then the man steps away and riffles through his bag. You’re crying harder now, chin pressed to your chest. You look so helpless and scared. He has to do something. The police are out of the question, they don’t come here anymore. Either too scared of his bosses or paid well to look the other way.
No, it’s going to have to be him. Miles closes his eyes, releasing a harsh breath. He’s scared, for you and of the man, but mostly he’s terrified of the dark part that lives inside him, the thing he's tried to keep buried since leaving Vietnam.
When he opens his eyes again you’ve turned on your side, facing the mirror. Even though he knows you’re looking at your own reflection it feels like you’re staring straight at him. Asking for help. Miles can see his own likeness in the window too, the glass reflecting it back and overlaying yours. He thinks about all the horrible things he’s done. The men he’s killed during the war and the work he does for his bosses at the El Royale. You’re nothing like him or the people that frequent here. He can see your goodness, your light and how it could so easily be snuffed out.
You start crying again and the look on your face makes something awful and dark expand in Miles’ chest.
He’s going to save you. No matter the cost to himself.
✥
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DIABOLIK LOVERS DARK FATE Vol.2 Chapter of the First Quarter [TRACK 1]
Original title: 狼の影
Source: Diabolik Lovers DARK FATE Vol. 1 Chapter of the First Quarter
Audio: Here
Seiyuu: Toriumi Kousuke, Katsuyuki Konishi, Midorikawa Hikaru, Kaji Yuki, Hirakawa Daisuke & Takashi Kondou
→ LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!
Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4
Track 1: The Shadow of a Wolf
Laito: ( Night falls per usual, while time ticks away as nothing of significance happens. Every day is a repeat of that same scenarioーー )
Reiji: ( With an eternity of time on our hands, us Vampires constantly find ourselves stuck in a gap in between boredom and idleness, until we eventually lose our perception of time, simply eagerly awaiting for the day when it will finally all endーー )
Shuu: ( Since we do not die a natural death, one’s passing is considered a joyous occasion. We wish for someone to kill us, no matter who. So we can at last be freed from this never-ending flow of timeーー )
Ayato: ( However, back then, we all came to the realization. ‘If we had to be killed, it should not be by just anyone.’ーー )
Wolves are running through the woods.
*Grooooowl*
They continue running.
*HOOOOWL*
You tell Ayato about the wolves.
Ayato: …Aah!? Wolves, you say!?
You nod.
Ayato: Chichinashi…Are you still half asleep? …And everyone’s talking ‘bout it? Che! What would a bunch of wolves be doin’ runnin’ ‘round this human city? Idiot!
You frown.
Ayato: I’m sure someone mistook a pack of wild dogs for wolves? Ridiculous! Anyway, you don’t need to come and tell me every time you hear ‘bout some stupid horror story!
*Rustle*
You shriek.
Ayato: It hurts…? I bet. I pinched you hard just now after all. I made sure to make it hurt good so you won’t spout such bullcrap again! I have to go this far or else you just don’t listen, right? In that case…
*Rustle rustle*
Ayato: I wouldn’t mind hurtin’ you even more? Well, in your case…
Ayato pins you down.
*Thud*
Ayato: I guess this would be more effective?
*Rustle rustle*
Laito: One second, Ayato-kun~
Ayato: Aah!? What’s your problem, Laito!? Don’t get in my way!
Laito: Oh, I never meant to disrupt. I only wanted to warn you since I believe that there’d be no point in trying to ‘punish’ Bitch-chan with your fangs…~
Ayato: Aah!?
Laito: I mean…Bitch-chan is the world champion at perceiving pain as pleasure! So that won’t do, right? A punishment should be so painful, it has to make the person realize that they never want to go through it again. Nfu~
Ayato: Aah, fuck off! Why are you tryin’ to ruin my fun!?
Laito: Once again, that was never my intention!
Ayato: God, I was just in the mood for her blood as well, but now I’m just pissed off. …Ugh. Laito. You’re tryin’ to upset me on purpose, aren’t you!? That’s your intention, isn’t it!?
Laito: Nfu~ I mean, maybe? After all, it’s not like Bitch-chan is officially yours or anything, right? Her blood happens to be my favorite meal as well! Anyone would step in when they see someone else about to indulge in their delicious snack, no?
Ayato: Cut the crap!
*Rustle*
Ayato: She belongs to me!
Laito: Oh~? And when was that decided?
Reiji walks up to them.
Reiji: Okay, time out.
*Clap clap*
Reiji: Please cut out this pointless argument. Good grief…I do not understand how you lot never get bored of getting into stupid fights every five seconds.
Ayato: Haah…!? I mean, you start complainin’ whenever you see Mr. Lazy Guy as well, don’t you!? You’re in no position to judge us!
Rejii: Hmph! …Even if that good-for-nothing was a little more aggressive and would actually react to my provocations, I would still have better things to do than to argue with him all day.
Laito: Which means…So you’ve been calling him a ‘good-for-nothing’ or a ‘waste of air and space’ knowing very well that he won’t bother to retaliate anyway?
Reiji: I never called him a waste of air and space, did I?
Laito: I mean, don’t sweat the details~
Reiji: Despite what you may believe, I am a pacifist at heart. I do not find enjoyment in twisted games such as deliberately causing conflict and getting a kick out of it. Unlike you lot, that is.
Ayato: Aah…!? Just get to the damn point! I’ve got no clue what you’re tryn’ to say!
Reiji: If you cannot comprehend, so be it. …Well then, you spacing out over there, snap out of it as well. I shall pour you a cup of tea, okay?
You fix your posture.
Reiji: Right, right. Now straighten your back and please pay attention to the etiquette of the traditional Japanese tea ceremony as you accept the cup of tea.
*Psssh*
Reiji: Here you go. Ayato, Laito, the two of you should have some as well.
Ayato: Che…Buzz off. I don’t like that smug look on your face after you resolve a conflict.
Laito: Right? I don’t like that look of accomplishment one bit either.
Reiji: That is fine. Never once in my life have I felt the need to earn approval from you people.
*Cling*
Reiji: More importantly…I heard you mention something about wolves earlier.
You raise your head.
Reiji: Did you also spot a wolf?
You nod.
Ayato: Aah…? Chichinashi, you actually did?
You explain.
Reiji: I see. While you did not see one yourself, you are worried about the rumors.
Laito: …I mean, I guess that makes sense. Nfu~ I mean, just remember the story of Little Red Riding Hood? After the Big Bad Wolf gobbles up her grandmother, Little Red does all sorts…of naughty things with him, right~? So I’m sure that’s why Bitch-chan is so curious about this wolf too!
Ayato: Did the story really go like that?
Reiji: Ayato. Just pretend you didn’t hear it. Do not take it seriously.
Ayato: S-Sure…?
Laito: Eeh~? Aren’t you being a little mean?
Reiji: Either way, putting aside debate on whether or not wolves have actually shown up…Well, even outside of the world of Little Red Riding Hood, those with a strong thirst for blood are a threat to humans either way. As a result, the wolf has been a popular candidate to be the villain in various fictional works. Either to evoke fear, or in other cases, to be respected and honored. Therefore, I believe it is only natural for humans to instinctively express fear when they hear that such creatures have shown up in the middle of a city.
Ayato: The fuck, Chichinashi? So those wolves actually do make your instincts kick in, huh? Shouldn’t I be the strongest and scariest of all…!?
Laito: Exactly~! We’re ‘scaaaaary’ Vampires, remember? We suck your blood and corrupt both your heart and soul. Nfu~ Fufufu…~
Reiji: Haah…You really love picking on her whenever you’re given the chance, don’t you? Do you not believe that we have more important matters at hand right now?
Ayato: And what would that be?
Reiji: The word ‘wolves’ should ring a bell with you both, no?
Laito: Hmー Ring a bell? For me, nothing else but Little Red Riding Hood comes to mind though…?
Ayato: Did somethin’ happen which involved Wolves?
Reiji: Good grief…This is what you get when Vampires start living in the human world. …They exist in the Demon World, remember? The Wolf Clan.
Laito: Ah, now that you mention it!
Ayato: I completely forgot ‘bout those guys up until now! …Then could it be that the Wolves which were spotted in town are actually people from the Wolf Clan?
Subaru: …Nah, not a chance.
Laito: Subaru-kun! When did you get here?
*THUD*
Subaru: Fuck off! I’ve been here this whole time.
Ayato: You have so little presence, I didn’t even realize at all! My bad!
Subaru: Haah? In other words, you’ve become nothin’ but a little housepet who has lost all natural instincts, right?
Ayato: Aah!? A housepet, you say!? You bastard…You’ve sure got some nerve talkin’ to your older brother like that!
Subaru: Tsk…Says the guy who didn’t even remember the Wolf Clan exists. Do you even have the right to call yourself a Vampire still? You don’t deserve better than to be called a pet. Seems like you’ve even forgotten ‘bout the fact that the Wolf Clan is known for being extremely territorial and therefore rarely ventures beyond their area of land.
Laito: Nfu~ I mean, I never felt particularly ‘prideful’ to be a Vampire and you can hardly blame us for forgetting about the Wolf Clan when we live in a place where they’re of no concern, right? …I don’t think that warrants calling us ‘pets’, won’t you agree?
Subaru: You’re basically proving my point. You’re always quick to shame her, but in reality, it’s you guys who are slaves to her blood, aren’t you?
Reiji: Subaru, lay it off. …Why are you so on edge?
Subaru: ‘Cause you bastards keep on spoutin’ a load of bullcrap!
Laito: Subaru-kun, is it ‘that time of the month’ perhaps~? Nfu~
Subaru: …Fuck off! Do you want me to send you flyin’, huh!?
You try to stop Subaru.
Subaru: …Hah!? Why are you tellin’ me to stop!? You’re to blame here as well. Don’t be hangin’ out with these bastards! …Tsk. You people seriously piss me off!
*Thud*
Reiji: Good grief…I suppose that is why Subaru has been so irritable.
Subaru: Haah!?
Reiji: Oh no, simply talking to myself. …Well then, let us return to the previous topic. Just like Subaru stated earlier, the Wolf Clan is known for rarely leaving its territory, even within the Demon World.
*Rustle*
Reiji: So it would be even more unusual for them to come here.
Laito: Well, I can believe that. I went into their territory once and had one hell of a rough time.
Subaru: Ah? You did that?
Laito: There’s girls like Bitch-chan amongst all species, you see~
Ayato: You’ll really take anyone you can get, huh?
Laito: Nfu~ I wish you’d instead say that I don’t discriminate.
Ayato: …Well, anyway. Even if there’s some wolves wanderin’ ‘round somewhere, I’ll make quick work of them, so rest assured!
*Rustle*
Ayato: Chichinashi…I won’t let you get devoured by some stupid Wolves. Hehe…
Reiji: Oh dear. Seems like it is time to leave for school already.
*Clap clap*
Reiji: Well then, everyone. Let us get ready and be on our way.
*Rustle*
Reiji: I shall not allow you to skip classes.
Laito: Geez, guess I’ll go get ready then.
*TIMESKIP*
Subaru enters your room.
Subaru: ー Oi, are you ready to leave?
You tell him that you need a few more minutes.
Subaru: Haah…!? What’s takin’ you so long?
You explain.
Subaru: You’re lookin’ for something? Che…What is it you need?
You answer.
Subaru: Your hair pin!? You’ll be fine without it, right!? …Hah. Why do chicks have to waste time on that sorta crap? I just don’t understand. …Haah, god. Where have you searched already?
You explain.
Subaru: Hm? Then you still have to check here, right?
*Rustle rustle*
Subaru: …
*Rustle rustle*
Subaru: Haah…Not here. …Haah. What a drag. ーー Oi, have you looked underneath here?
You shake your head.
*Rustle*
Subaru: Ah…It fell on the floor.
*Rustle*
Subaru: Haah…God.
He walks up to you.
Subaru: Here you go.
You reach for it.
Subaru: Ah, hold up. You put this in your hair, right? I’ll do it. It’d be annoyin’ to have to fix it a million times while lookin’ in the mirror. I don’t have the patience for that.
*Rustle rustle*
Subaru: If I recall correctly…You always put it ‘round here…Like this?
*Thud*
Subaru: There. That should do. It looks good.
You grow flustered.
Subaru: Hm? Why…are your cheeks red?
You explain.
Subaru: Hah? Why are you embarrassed? …! This wasn’t…really… ー Ugh! Fuck this…You know, I was…a little on edge earlier so…I felt a lil’ bad for how I acted and well…Ah! No! That isn’t it!
You tilt your head to the side.
Subaru: …Aah! What a pain in the ass! …Right.
*Rustle*
Subaru: I just wanted your blood, that’s all. By leanin’ in this close, I can easily sneak in a couple of sips, right?
*Rustle*
Subaru: Come on, keep still…
Subaru bites you.
*Gulp gulp*
Subaru: ー Hah. Haah…Nn…
*Gulp*
Subaru: Mm…Haah. Do you understand now? This is why I approached you. Haahn…
*Gulp*
Subaru: Mm…Nn…Hah…Delicious…Haahn…
*Rustle*
Subaru: Your blood belongs to me…
*Rustle rustle*
Subaru: Don’t you dare…let any of the guys feed off you, ‘kay?
Laito: Bitch-chan~! Subaru-kun~! The limousine’s going to leave!
*Rustle*
Subaru: Che…Guess we have no other choice. Let’s go. Come on.
He grabs hold of your hand.
Subaru: Come. …Just hurry!
You look at your connected hands.
Subaru: Your hand? It’s ‘cause you’re such a damn slowpoke! Now quit whining and lemme hold it!
He drags you out of the room.
ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー
#diabolik lovers#dialovers#shuu sakamaki#reiji sakamaki#ayato sakamaki#kanato sakamaki#laito sakamaki#subaru sakamaki#diabolik lovers translation#diabolik lovers drama cd
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