#trying to just keep pushing through though!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

woso-dreamzzz · 2 days

Text

Injured (Alexia's Version) IV

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: You need perfection

TW: eating disorder, self-destructive thoughts, unhealthy thoughts about weight and size, self-harm through dance

There's a reason the ballerina body is thought to be unobtainable.

It's because it is.

Even to the dancers.

Perfect feet. Perfect legs. Perfect waist. Perfect stomach. Perfect face and hair.

You didn't have the perfect feet. Your arch wasn't quite perfect. It was close but with the right shoes it looked perfect.

Your legs weren't quite perfect either. You think one of your knees bulges weirdly and one leg is the tiniest bit more muscular than the other. But that can be hidden under your tights.

You don't like your waist or your tummy. You're different to your Mami but you're built a bit like her. She's built like a football player where she doesn't need to care about her waist or her stomach like you did.

You could fix your face with makeup and your hair with product but you couldn't fix your biology. You couldn't fix the way you've developed.

When you were younger and still at ballet school, the older girls passed down one line of wisdom to the younger girls.

If you weren't thin enough to fit between the space of the barre and where it's mounted on the mirror, then you're too fat.

You know now that that's too small of a gap for anyone to fit through without tucking in their tummy to the extreme. You know that now but it's still embedded within you. It still haunts your every step, a looming figure in the shadows that will one day catch up with you.

Some of the other dancers smoke or vape to keep their figures but you took the more classic route.

It was easy to cut breakfast out. A protein bar sufficed as your lunch, maybe a pre-packaged salad as well. You would eat dinner because that was a family meal and, while you were desperately trying to keep your figure, you knew that eating at least one meal a day was good.

It worked like a charm though and soon your stomach shrunk to the point that having one meal a day was all you could stomach.

"Why are you still asleep?" Jaume asks as he throws himself onto your bed," It's nearly dinner."

You groan, poking your head out from your blanket cave. "I was napping. I'm allowed to nap."

You've been napping a lot lately but you're used to that. Whenever you start cutting out meals, you feel the need to nap more to conserve your energy.

"Mami told me to come get you," Jaume replies," Dinner's almost ready."

You pull the covers off before freezing.

"Jaume," You say," Are you wearing your dirty football boots? In my bed?"

He grins. "Yeah."

"Get out!"

"Oh, come on, it was just a joke!"

You smack him in the face with a pillow. "I'm telling Mami!"

He scrambles after you, trying to stop you from making it down the stairs.

"She's lying!" He cries out, skidding to the dinner table just as you arrive.

"Jaume wore his dirty football boots in my bed!" You announce and Alexia sighs.

"Just one day," She says wistfully to Olga," That's all I ask. Just one day of no arguments."

She scolds Jaume lightly over the meal and you pick at your food.

Alexia watches you out of the corner of her eye. This meal is your favourite but you're pecking at it like you're a pigeon.

"How was dance?" She asks.

You shrug, grateful for the opportunity to talk as you push the food around your plate. "Good. I'm going back in after dinner. I'm going to practice my solo."

Olga frowns just like Alexia. "You've been doing that all week. Don't you think you need a break?"

"It won't be for that long," You lie," I want to get it perfect."

Perfection has always been a big part of your life. If you have perfection then you've proven your worth. If you have perfection then you cannot be replaced.

If you perfection in your dancing, in your body, then everything will be good and right in the world.

If you have perfection then you'll never be forgotten again.

Alexia watches you, eyes narrowed before she starts helping Olga clear the table.

"Jaume," You hiss," You want this?" You offer him your plate.

He glanced over to where Olga and Alexia have their backs turned.

"Give."

You scrape the rest of your food onto his plate before getting up quickly.

"I'm heading to the studio," You say.

"I'll drive you," Alexia says.

"I'll walk." You're actually planning to jog. "I want to grab a snack from the store on the way."

There's a reason Mami hasn't found out yet. You've gone back and forth on this for years. Cutting out meals before a performance only to introduce them again a few weeks after. You know exactly how to play her.

It's easy to slip away just like it's easy to dance and dance and dance until your feet ache.

There's something about pointe work that you love. It's a hard discipline. Nobody outright loves it like you do. You don't think they'd understand why you love it.

You love it for the wrong reasons.

You love it because it makes your feet hurt. You love it because it makes you look good even when you're falling apart. You love it because it makes you feel perfect even when you know you're not.

You love it because it's the quickest way to make you bleed.

Your chest rises and falls as you feel your toe pads grow wet with your own blood. Your vision is full of spots and you can barely see yourself in the mirror.

All you can focus on is your next move and the pain in your feet.

All you can do is dance and dance and-

You're on the floor the next time you blink, feeling groggy as your stomach rumbles. You catch sight of yourself in the mirror as you crawl your way over to your bag, shakily unwrapping an energy bar.

You pull off your pointe shoes and toe pads.

This is so normal to you now that you don't even think about the fact that you just blacked out.

You eat your snack, drain down your sports drink and wrap plasters around your bleeding toes as you dial Mami's number.

She picks up quickly, like always. You can imagine her just sitting at home, waiting for your call.

"Bambi?" She asks as soon as she answers," What's up?"

"Can you come and pick me up?" You ask," I'd like to come home now."

Alexia's already grabbing her keys. Her shoes are already on. She's already out the door.

Something's up with you. She knows this. She just doesn't know what it is. But she knows she'll always be ready to pick you up. Always want to bring you home herself.

You look pale and shaky as she pulls up and, like usual after practice, your bare feet are out of your shoes. They're covered in plasters.

"Did you get your snack?" Alexia asks," You look a little pale."

"I did," You reply," I was just dancing a lot."

"Hmm," Alexia says," You know you can talk to me, right? You know you can tell me anything."

"I know," You say.

"Good. Just...Good. You're a good girl, bambi, and I want you to come to me if you need to talk, alright?"

"I know, Mami," You say with an eye roll.

Alexia holds your gaze for a moment before nodding. "Good. Now, your brother wants a milkshake. Do you want anything at the drive through?"

Your tummy rumbles.

"A meal then," Alexia decides before you can protest," A burger I think. Greasy."

You wince. "Mami-"

"You gave half your dinner to Jaume," She says suddenly," I'll split the meal but it's non-negotiable."

It's fine, you think.

So long as you get to practice early tomorrow, you can work it all off.

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

612 notes · View notes

ipseitydelrey · 2 days

Text

cherry ☆ s. reid

ship spencer reid x afab!reader

content smut, period sex (kinda?), eating out (f!receiving), while on your period, it’s not that gross i swear, he’s a munch ur honour 🙇

word count 1.7k

summary usually during your period, you get really hot and bothered for no particular reason other than hormones. spencer offers to help out with your problem.

a/n im posting this directly after seeing a show at the moulin rouge, it’s currently 2am; this was inspired by my experience at the eras tour in stockholm

Periods are hell for you. Not just because of the cramps, or the blood, but because you just get so horny.

Now, to others it’s completely normal to masturbate while their periods are happening, either with a fingers or with a toy. Period sex is also a thing you’ve heard of, even from your friends who have often recommended the activity.

But to you, doing anything remotely like that, either by yourself or with anyone else, is a no. Mostly because of the messiness and how troublesome it would be to clean it up. So instead of getting relief by just touching youself, you always decide to wait until your period is finished to start doing sexual activities again. Besides, you only just have to go a few days without stimulation.

But this week is hard. You have the urge to just rip your underwear off and play with your clit until your wrist starts to ache all the time. It’s pure agony for you, and sometimes you find youself clenching your thighs together, or pushing your heel against your clothed pussy to get some sort of relief.

In the middle of your monthly period, one day is especially hard. You’re laying on the couch with a heating pad on your abdomen, your hair hidden in your drawstring hood, and your legs on your boyfriend Spencer’s thighs while he reads a book at 20,000 words per minute. He sometimes glances up at you from his novel whenever you squirm a bit, though you’re not sure if he thinks you’re just in pain from your cramps or if he’s able to read through you.

Besides, you know for a fact that your boyfriend won’t help you get off while you’re on your period. Spencer’s known to have a thing with germs, so there’s no way that he’ll touch your pussy, especially if it’s bleeding.

The next time you shift slightly and whine softly, Spencer closes his book and sets it down on the coffee table. “Are you okay, honey?”

“‘M okay,” you respond, your voice muffled by your pillow being cuddled in your arms. You unintentionally clench your thighs together at his caring voice which unfortunately, Spencer notices.

“You sure?” He gently massages your calf, which only adds fuel to the fire. You hate that he’s a profiler now. “Just cramps?”

“Mmph…” You nods your head a bit as you hide your face in the pillow, trying to hide your soft blush.

“Maybe you’re aroused?” He asks suddenly. One of his hands moves up your leg to squeeze your thigh. Profilers.

Again, you nod your head, defeated since he can so clearly see how horny you are. “Mm-hmm.”

“I see,” he mutters under his breath, but you can hear him. Disproving your previous judgements about him, he shifts his position so that he’s directly facing you, leaving one of your legs to hang off the couch and allowing him to be between your legs.

You pull the pillow down to your chest, wanting to see what he’s trying to achieve. “What’re you doing?” you ask, your eyebrow cocked.

“Can I help you?” Spencer suggests, his hands planted on your upper thighs, close to your core.

“With what?”

“You’re aroused,” he points out again. “And you’re in pain. Studies have shown that orgasms can help subside period cramps.”

Oh, that’s probably why your friends keep recommending period sex. But you feel too tired for full-on penetration right now. Yet again, he could maybe help you in another way. “Are you sure? It’s gonna be messy, and I know you don’t like germs, and I just feel gross.” You argue self-deprecatingly.

“Well I can put a towel down.” He gets up from his position between your legs and goes off to the bathroom. From the couch, you can hear him opening cupboards before he comes back with a black towel in hand. He continues with what he was saying. “And I want to help you. It’s not gross, it’s natural. I want to make you feel good. Here, lift up your hips.”

He puts a hand on your hip to guide you as you lift your bottom half up just enough for him to place a towel down and make sure it’s flat before he guides you back down. The towel is only just there if you say yes though, which he eagerly awaits before he does anything else to you.

You sigh, and figure that this might be worth a shot. You drop the pillow to the ground in front of the couch, quickly followed by the heating pad that was on your stomach. “Okay, fine,” you say as enthusiastically as you can which, with your cramps and your tiredness, isn’t really that enthusiastic.

Still, Spencer mouths a silent “thank you” before he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your sweatpants. You lift your hips up once more to make it easier when he tugs them down and off, leaving you in your underwear. Following the same pattern, he once again pulls your period panties off, and you let your hips settle onto the towel-covered couch.

His hands find their way between your thighs and he spreads them just enough for him to have access to your core, wet from your arousal and your blood. The five seconds he spends just staring at your vulnerable pussy, dripping blood onto the towel, are the most nerve-wracking five seconds of your life. You halfway convince yourself that he’s going to back out and leave you like this, horny and bloody with your pants off.

And yet, he buries his head between your legs and starts by gently kissing your heat, then licking a long stripe from the base of your slit all the way up to your sensitive clit, causing an equally long moan to erupt from the depths of your throat.

“You’re so beautiful, honey,” he says before he dives back in again, drawing circles around your bundle of nerves with his tongue before he traps it between his lips and suckles.

You kick your legs up a bit when he focuses on your clit, the stimulation to your sensitive bud ripping sudden moans from your lips. Your hands find their way to the top of his head and you grasp on to his hair tight.

He looks up at you through his lashes, still working his lips around your clit before he moves his tongue down to your slit, licking a bit before thrusting it into your wet cunt. His thumb replaces where his tongue was before, rubbing small tight circles around the bud.

You can’t believe how good he’s making you feel right now, and you can feel your pleasurable knot in your stomach tightening because of his undeserved-but-needed efforts. You don’t know if he’s doing this for you just to be helpful — considering his complicated personal relationship with germs and the like — or if he just really enjoys eating your pussy this much. With each second that passes by having Spencer lapping at your cunt like a man starved, you start to think that it’s the latter thought.

And he can tell you like it too, with the way you moan and arch your back and even when you start to grind your clit against your nose while his tongue is deep in your pussy. Even if you’re wearing a baggy hoodie and were wearing sweatpants, he still manages to make you feel incredibly sexy. Or “sexy” is maybe not the right word — loved; you feel loved in this moment.

He appears to feel the same as well, with the way he moans in content seeing you like this and feeling your fingers nestled in his hair and tugging lightly. With every small pull, a tiny sound emits from his throat and it feels oh so pleasurable on your pussy.

Sensing your impending orgasm, he takes his tongue, wet by your slick and blood, out of your weeping hole and quickly replaces the muscle with his index finger. He slowly pushes the digit in, feeling your walls pulsate around him as he pushes and pulls it in and out in a steady rhythm. A minute later, he adds a second and starts to curl his fingers against that gooey button inside your cunt once he’s knuckle-deep into your warmth.

It’s so much for you; almost too much. Your jaw hangs open in a silent moan and you almost can’t believe it when you start to grind your hips against his thrusting fingers, fucking yourself with his index and middle as it continuously and without fail hits the spongy button everytime.

Your orgasm hits you almost unexpectedly, a wave of pleasure overflows you as your eyes flutter shut and your back arches just a bit more. Your chest heaves while you gasp for air; this is just what you needed during your period. Seeing you’re damn near overwhelmed, Spencer works you through your orgasm, your arousal forming a creamy circle around his still-working fingers.

“There we go, that’s it, you’re doing so well” are among the small praises he breathes onto your pussy while you slowly but surely come down from the high. At the same speed, his fingers slow down until they become stationery, before he pulls them out with a wet squelch, causing you to whimper softly. When your eyes meet next, he can see how glossy your eyes are with satisfcation pulling at the corners of your lips.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You half-lie with a small laugh trailing behind your words. Though to be fair, you definitely needed it.

He pulls himself up to be eye level with you while you’re still laying there on your back catching your breath. You can already see a mixture of your arousal and your blood dribbling down his chin, though he doesn’t seem to mind all that much. “No, but I wanted to.” He says with a dopey smile, still pussy drunk.

Though the lower half of his face is still covered by your juices, he tries to lean in and kiss you, only to be stopped by your hands on his shoulders and you turn your head to the side with an amused smile. “Ew! I don’t wanna taste my blood!”

Spencer scoffed playfully at your reaction. “I just ate you out and I don’t even get a kiss?”

The way he pleads just makes you melt a little and you decide to give in just a bit by gently kissing his cheek. You can feel his cheeks heat up against your lips. Despite his previous openness, he gets flustered and smiles sheepishly, sighing a little. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” you joke, your mouth still planted on his cheek.

i’ve been plane-hopping around europe for over a month so i haven’t had a lot of access to wifi + i nearly failed one of my courses bc my professor was horrible at giving feedback, hopefully this explains my absence and i hope u enjoyed this !! (i posted this in a flurry btw, lmk if there are any errors whatsoever 🫶)

taglist @queermaxwooo @theoraekenslover join the taglist!

#✩ ⊹˖ ꒰ spencer ꒱ ୨🎧୧ #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #dr. spencer reid #mgg #matthew gray gubler

485 notes · View notes

thinkingaboutjaedyn · 3 days

Note

imagine u n emily cooking together on ig live and everyone loves it when ur telling her off, she’s always getting in the way, or just straight up being a menace LMFAOOKO

FAVORITE ANNOYANCE | e.engstler x reader

prompt: emily being really fucking annoying while y'all are trying to cook.

author notes: i need to write for more basketball players so here you go taytay 🩷 enjoy it!

contains: emily engstler x shorter!reader, fluff, emily needs her ass beat, annoying as a love language, bad pizza making describing, inspo from this tiktok

"heyy guys!" you say, setting up your phone against a vase on the kitchen island. emily have just got back from practice and was obviously starving so she begged you to cook. you obliged but only because she has to help you. what a dumb idea that would end up being.

you squint your eyes as you look at the number of people coming into the live. emily comes up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist. she pecks the side of your face before saying, "hi babe. hi chat."

"ew, don't say chat. you sound like some teenage streamer," you make a face of disgust before laughing. emily just shrugs. turning you to face her instead of the phone.

"but baby, that's what you call it," she blinks at you. acting confused until you stand on your tippy toes to peck her lips. emily pecks you back, licking her lips afterwards before looking at your phone screen. you move away from the kitchen island to go to the fridge. your body barely still in frame. emily looks at the comments coming through on the live, chuckling at a few.

"what we about to do? cook-" before emily could finish her sentence fully, you chim in. coming into the frame fully, holding the tomatoes needed to make the pizza sauce. "we are about to cook because emily was starving so bad and was just so hungry. go ahead, tell them what you told me when you came home," your tone sounds annoyed but there is obvious fondness underneath.

"aye, the chat said stop being mean to me," emily crosses her arms across her chest as she looks at you.

"the chat should be on my side."

"thought chat was for teenage streamers?"

"dear god, be quiet before i don't cook and go to bed. you can do this all on your own if you want."

"what? babeee, noo," the american player moves to pull you close by the waist. leaning down to kiss the top of your head; a usual emily apology. obviously you accept it. a bashful smile on your lips as you try to push her away but those muscles of hers aren't just for show, keeping you close easily.

emily sighs before shaking her head, "okay, chat. when i came home i begged my beautiful amazing so spectacular girlfriend to cook for me and cried when she said she didn't feel like it. even though i know how to cook, but it's just better when she does it." the confession makes the live explode with comments. with most making fun of emily (lovingly) and some relating to the feeling of wanting your girlfriend to do things for you.

a playfully smug smile sits on your lips, "there. she admitted it guys, she can't live without me."

"i didn't say all that.."

"i will stab you with this knife i'm about to grab," you gesture to the knife block on the counters behind you two. emily immediately starts talking to the chat, "i told y'all she's always threatening me."

"only when you're bad, babes," you chuckle. getting out of her grasp to grab two knives from the knife block. setting one down in front of emily, slapping her hand when she tries to grab it.

"no touching until i get the cutting boards," you set down your knife. opening the counter to grab two cutting boards (all while emily stands there with her arms crossed). putting them onto the island, one in front of emily and one in front of you. then you grab the tomatoes, setting them near your phone. not too close though so you two can still see the comments coming in.

"now you can touch."

emily and you get into a small routine of cutting the tomatoes. answering questions at the same time with the basketball player answering most of them.

"i don't know who keeps asking what we're cooking, but guys c'mon now.. i said it so many times. we're making pizza," emily sighs. halfway through with her tomato pile, she decides it's the best time to bother you while you're focused on finishing yours.

"babe, chat said why is my hair up even though i'm in my own home. should i tell them how you hate my hair and told me you would cut it off if i bought it anywhere near your kitchen?" she smiles at you like she didn't just say the most out of pocket lie ever. you give her a warning glare, not even answering her before going back to cutting. however, of course emily couldn't be satisfied with that. she needs a reaction so she starts to poke you in the shoulder.

"babe"

you don't answer her.

"babe"

another glare.

"babeeee."

"all i know is that if you keep touching me, i'm going to cut off your hand. now stop being childish and finish chopping those tomatoes before nobody will be eating tonight," you finally answer. slapping her hand away. she doesn't even flinch, just smiling.

"my girlfriend is being mean to me again." she turns her attention to the camera, a great relief to you. obviously the chat comes to her defense again but you tell them off by threatening to end the live all together.

the two of you continue to make the pizza. eventually you get out the small roll of cheese out of the fridge, forcing emily to grate it. while you smash the tomatoes up for the sauce.

emily is still answering more comments and she's having fun with it too:

ilovelesbians178 who do you wish would visit you more?

"hailey. that blonde chick never come over here, but it's okay, i know she's all superstar now."

emilysdutchbraids is your natural hair color actually blonde or what

"uh, i always say my hair is naturally blonde with dark roots but i might be lying.. nobody gotta know."

y/n&emilyop why is your tall strong ass the one grating cheese while y/n's tiny self is smashing the tomatoes?

emily starts laughing so hard that you look over at her. she gives you a look back before shaking her head, "yeah, nah, i don't know why i'm the one grating cheese. this is really not a good fit for me, huh?"

you look at her again, your brows furrowed as you stand there confused.

"ems, what are you talking about?" your arms are crossed across your chest. you come closer to her, looking at your phone to check the live comments. emily tries to turn you away from looking at the screen, laughing, "nothing, baby. people just don't get why your tinsy pinsy self is smashing tomatoes while my giant self is grating cheese."

the playful mocking in her tone makes you gasp. quick to slap her shoulder, she lets out an ow!

"babyyy, i didn't do anything," her tone sounds sad but emily is literally smiling at you and is so close to laughing that you can hear in her voice. "i was just reading the comments," is her excuse.

you slap her shoulder again before moving away from her. "yeah, sure. you're so innocent and totally didn't read it out on purpose. shut up and make the dough since you're so big and strong," you get out the ingredients needed or at least try to as emily follows you around the kitchen like a lost puppy. if you're trying to grab the oil out of the cabinet? she's blocking it. you're trying to get the yeast out? again emily is there blocking it. you try to push her away, hitting her on the shoulder again but she always just laughs.

"i get way worse fouls in games than that little hit, baby," she smirks at you. normally that smirk would be so attractive but you are so blinded by irritation but right now you are this close to kicking emily out of the kitchen.

you decide to go a different route than hitting. going straight for her stomach as you tickle her. emily nearly screams in surprise, almost knocking over a bunch of stuff, you two should have been cleaned, off of the counter as she tries to get away from you.

you stick out your tongue at her once she gets away. coming back over to your phone to check the comments.

"emily acts like a bad ass kid. oh, yeah, we all know that," you say. giggling once emily comes back close to you, her arms crossed across her chest.

"and i don't know why she's next to me right now trying to manipulate me into saying a compliment. you can cross your arms until the day you die, miss pretzel," you sass. laughing once she tries to tickle you but you dodge out of the way.

"babe, it's not fair! you got me!"

"you were in the way!"

"nuh uh."

"nuh huh!"

emily lets out a long sigh, frowning at your phone screen. "my girlfriend literally hates me right now guys," she says.

"do not. now be quiet and help me finish making this pizza. it's getting late." emily listens to you, finally taking the cooking seriously.

it takes way quicker now to finish up making the pizza that emily is acting like she got some sense. finally, emily moves away from the island so that she can slide the pizza in the oven while you talk to the live.

"alright guys, we are about to go lay on the couch and wait for this pizza to cook. emily has drained all of the energy out of me so i'm ending the live here. love you guys! thanks for paying attention to emily's annoying ass and me." emily is able to get in a wave before you cut off the live. shaking your head as you turn to face her. leaning against the kitchen island.

"what is it, baby?" she comes close, grabbing onto your hips.

"you're sleeping on the couch tonight," you say. leaning away once she tries to kiss you. easily getting out of her grasp this time, starting to walk over to the living room. emily still stands in the kitchen with her arms now crossed across her chest.

"and you can stop doing that crossing your arms across your chest shit! it doesn't work, baby," you shout, looking over your shoulder at her.

author notes: this was actually mad fun to write 💪🏽💪🏽 hopefully you liked it because i put some effort into it.

#emily engstler x reader #emily engstler #wbb x reader

414 notes · View notes

ghouljams · 20 hours

Text

Twitter porn link: this with cowboy!Ghost

I just know he'd love getting to hold you, finally letting you saddle up only to steal the reins back. He's a good boy. (Cw: Sub!ghost, f!reader, mommy kink)

Simon, generally, doesn't like you on top. Too little control, he says, but you know it's too close to waking up with a stranger on top of him. Sometimes though he gets these ideas in his head. Ideas that make him look at you all day, the wheels turning in his brain until he can point to exactly what he's looking for. Ideas that always end up with his thick cock stretching you out, and his lips against yours. Somehow this idea requires you to be on top.

He positions you on his lap how he likes, hauls your knees up over one strong forearm, and snakes the other up your back to wrap around your shoulders. You're smushed close against his chest, lips hovering over his as his hand drops from your shoulders under your hips, then lower. Thick fingers prod at your cunt, his eyes fixed on yours, breath short but even. He barely feels over your pussy, just checking that you're still wet from his tongue before he's fisting his cock. He slaps the thick length against your thighs, grips the ruddy head to hold against your tight hole. Minimal prep, he wants you to feel it, wants to feel like he's in charge before giving the reins to you.

He presses into you and you eyes cross. The stretch of him- no the friction, even with his spit you can feel every fricative inch of his cock like he's going in dry. It burns, sinful in the pain, drilling home the girth of him better than any other measurement. You feel like you're being stretched, being forced to make room for him. Your body is tight around him, a vice grip that even you feel with a hiss. Simon doesn't give you a second to adjust, simply presses and presses, murmuring how well you take him, how he knows you can take him, until your ass is planted firmly at the base of him. You try to catch your breath. It feels like his cock is physically pushing the air out of your lungs. You blink to dispel the way your eyes want to roll back at every twitch. God you can feel the blood pumping through his fat cock, the stupid thing is going to split you in half.

"What-" you swallow, shake your head and push your forehead against Simon's, still a little cross eyed when you open them again, "what do you need from me-e." He moves his hips, wiggles them side to side as he moves down the bed to lay back comfortably. It pushes his cock sinfully against your sweet spots, grinding him deep into you. You bite back the moan that threatens to spill free, devastated by the pleasure rolling up your spine.

"Look'it me," Simon grunts, "like ya always do."

You love the way he blushes, red to the tips of his ears, but never looking away. You get to see the way his eyes search yours, the way his demeanor shifts, relaxes, when you smile. You tip your head to kiss his forehead and he leans into it.

"Of course baby," you tell him. He pulls you with him to lay down, feet planting on the bed to keep his cock inside as you move. It just means when he sets his hips down, you're left with only the tip inside your aching cunt. He thrusts up into you and your brows furrow, your jaw dropping so he can hear the pretty noises you make. Every 'ah, ah' and breathy 'oh, fuck' until his eyes are starting to get hazy. Fuck drunk.

You drag your tongue over his parted lips, feeling the way his fingers dig into your thigh. He grabs your shoulder again to help pull you down against his thrusts. It's hard keeping your head on when he hits you so deep, when his thrusts are such hard snaps of his hips, but you have to. Simon asked you to.

"My pretty boy," you coo, feeling the way his hips lose their rhythm briefly, "my pretty Simon, fucking me so well." You stroke your hand over his cheek, press your lips to his in soft teasing kisses. "Does it feel good? All wrapped up with me," you know it must, Simon's never been so quiet before. His eyes are focused on you, his gaze dreamy but locked in. His lips are parted but his usual grunts are replaced by soft pants and the occasional twitch of his drawn brows.

"Feels good," he agrees, "feels good sweet'eart."

"I know it does." You kiss him again chaste, then again, dipping your tongue past his parted lips to coax him into swirling his own against it. You lick and nip at his lips, as he fucks you, pulling you into his thrusts in a way you're sure would feel dominating on anyone else. It should feel like that with Simon too, he's a big man, but you sit on him like a queen. You wrap your arms around his head, pret his hair out of his face.

"Faster," You murmur, grabbing his face in one hand, his cheeks squish, the skin marred by scars but still pliant, "my good boy wants to fuck me, doesn't he? Then fuck me faster." Simon's eyes never leave you, you can feel them burning their holes into you when he picks up the pace. His hips snapping to yours make your eyes roll back, your lashes dropping down as you tip your head with a moan. He drills into you, making you whine and pant, your moans spilling from you as his cock hits you deep enough you're sure your cervix will be bruised in the morning. Each snap of his hips is a wet smack against your ass, his balls bouncing to meet the sharp thrusts, your hips held still as he thrusts up into your sopping cunt.

"Good boy," you whine, "so good for me, so good, pretty- pretty boy." You swallow down your next moan. Simon's eyes are starting to go wide, you shake his head. "Don't come, you don't come until I say so." Your voice is going higher, tighter, your control slipping with the whiney breaths you let out. "You have to ask Si," you sound pathetic, but somehow your tone doesn't matter. Simon's grip on you switches, his fingers grabbing for your hair as he holds your knees tight.

"Please," he begs, "please, look so good like this, please lemme come." You throw your head back with a whine and his lips attach to your neck, desperate drunk kisses that are too soft to leave marks. Then wet sloppy things, his mouth open as he pants and whines against your throat. "Please," he tries again. His hips never stop moving, and he sounds close. You tip your head forward again, pull him back to push your lips against his. He's all tongue and teeth, all need and desperation. You swallow it down like holy water.

"Be good for me," you tell him, "be a good boy and come."

Simon's grip on you tightens, his hips stuttering once before he's fucking you hard and fast. You nearly scream, his teeth dig into your bottom lip as he hits that aching tightness deep in the pit of your stomach, pounding at the door to your next prgasm until your vision goes white and you feel the burn of his come filling you. Your back is tight, your breath held in your throat, each drag of his cock burns, too hot and slick for your brain to process. You dig your fingers into his hair pulling, or maybe pushing, at him until he stops. You can't take any more. Your poor cunt aches, your hip hurts.

Simon rolls over, deposits you on your back and just as quickly situates himself between your legs. "One more momma," he murmurs to himself, "one more for me."

You really don't think you have another in you, then his thigh fingers wiggle their way into your cunt, pushing up against your sweet spot with pinpoint precision, and you're on edge again. Tight heat brands your cunt, the ache of it tingling over your skin and making your moans garbled. You grab at his wrist and try to twist away from the oversensitive feeling he strokes into you. He follows you, moves with your squirming hips until you can't take it any more. His fingers are too fast, too determined, too good at what they do. Your legs shake, your back arches, and you come on his fingers until the fingers beating into you are more pain than pleasure.

Simon's tongue drags over your slit in soft apologetic strokes. You already know what he's going to say before he opens his mouth. Lying bastard.

"Just one more momma."

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #x oc #cod x oc #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #mw2 ghost #ghost cod #ghost x you #oc: goose #f!reader #sub!ghost

366 notes · View notes

foreingersgod · 1 day

Text

End of the Day . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis: caitlin’s rookie year hasn’t been going as smoothly as she had planned and it’s starting to take a toll on her. at least she has you there for her at the end of every game

WARNING: by no means, because i’m defending caitlin, will i tolerate any sort of racism/sexism on this post or on my page in general. just because we want to support her doesn’t mean we need to say completely unnecessary and racist things about other players. if there is anything of the sort, you will be blocked! this post has nothing to do with ANYONE except caitlin so please remember to be kind and respectful! this fic is meant to be a cute hurt/comfort scenario about struggling as a rookie, please don’t make it into something it’s not :)

every game was agonizing for you to watch. whether you were sat on the couch in front of the TV or sitting somewhere up in the stands, watching caitlin take hit after hit was too much for you to watch. it broke your heart every single time, knowing that with each passing game, it was harder and harder for her to stay optimistic. your sweet and energetic girlfriend now seemed completely wiped out and drained. you heard her meek responses to the press, claiming that it was all “just how basketball was”, but you knew her better than that. you knew it was starting to take a toll on her, caitlin would never call something like this just part of the game.

you often had to close your eyes while watching these games. you hated the way they pushed her around like she was anything less of a player, how she would fall to the ground and squeeze her eyes shut in pain. it made your blood boil to see how much pain she was in. the urge to march down to the court floors and take on these women head on was constantly sitting in the back of your mind. there had been times you had to step outside of the stadium to take a breathe, trying to reassure yourself that cailtin was alright and had it under control.

and she did, she had gotten quite good at keeping a relaxed demeanor despite the physicality on the court. there were times were she would slip up though, letting her temper get the best of her, but she never took it too far and always reminded you that she could handle it. you knew deep down that caitlin only stayed so calm because of you. the last thing she wanted was to upset or worry you, make a big scene that she knew you’d evidently witness. as much as caitlin wanted to scream and argue and fight back, she couldn’t bare the thought of you watching her lose her cool. so she suffered in silence, something she had a habit of, aware of how mad it made you. you wanted nothing more than to comfort her in these times of need, but she was too stubborn to cave in.

it wasn’t until tonight, though, that she had finally reached her breaking point. this last game being the straw that broke the camels back. you hadn’t known what it was, whether it was the flagrant foul or the snide comments made off the court, but it cut caitlin deeper than the rest. unfortunately, you weren’t able to attend this particular game. work ended up being crazy busy and you had to stay longer, cutting into about 30 minutes of game time. you had warned caitlin before the game started, letting her know that you would be watching her from home and that you’d be cheering her on like always.

you don’t think you could get the image out of your head, the moment replaying in your head well after the game had ended. you had settled down on the couch with your ‘22’ t-shirt on and a loose blanket thrown over your lap, watching the game with your jaw clenched. you wanted so badly to stay hopeful tonight, trying to keep a positive mindset. but as the 3rd quarter rolled around, your hopes were quickly diminished. you watched one of the opponents come up behind caitlin, decking her in the shoulder so hard that she was thrown relentlessly to the ground. you cringed in dismay. you sat through the remnants of the game totally gutted for your girlfriend knowing that she’d be beating herself up when she walked through the doors of your home.

once the game had ended, you moseyed your way to the bedroom. after your nightly routine you crawled into bed and pulled out your book, waiting for caitlin’s arrival. you hated when she wasn’t here, the bed colder and lonelier than you’d have liked. it was hard to focus on the words littered across the novels pages as anticipation spread through your body. about 30 minutes had passed when you finally heard the obnoxious screeching of the front doors hinges. a wave of relief washed over you as you listened to familiar foot steps trail throughout the kitchen, eventually padding their way up the stairs.

then she came into view, pushing your bedroom door open quietly. she had assumed you were asleep by now and didn’t want to wake you by being too loud. your head perked up, the book long forgotten somewhere on the sheets as you took in the sight of your girlfriend. she looked burned out, a sad expression chiseled into her features. her hair was messy, cheeks flushed and pale-you assumed had been from crying. she hadn’t noticed you right away, only looking up when you called out her name.

“cait…” you breathed, unsure of what to say. she was clearly bothered, on the verge of tears. normally she’d come home and brush it off, saying that she just needed you and she’d be ok, but tonight was different. she looked inconsolable, standing there at the end of the bed.

“oh, hey baby,” she faked a smile, now dragging her feet to her side of the bed to get changed “you’re up”

“yea,” you offered a smile in return “you know i can’t sleep without you”

the small comment seemed to entice a genuine smile out of her this time, seeing how her lips turned upwards slightly as she pulled a clean tshirt over her head. she joined you in bed, sliding one leg underneath yours to feel the smallest bit of touch from you.

“hey i-uh,” you shook your head. this was a delicate matter that you didn’t know how to approach “i watched the game, cait”

“mhm,” she hummed, now pulling out her phone to mindlessly scroll through social media. possibly to distract her, but seeing the nasty comments about earlier tonight certainly wasn’t going to help.

you weren’t satisfied with her avoidance, deciding to prod further. you couldn’t watch her suffer like this any longer.

“baby,” you said softly, your tone somewhat stern to grab her attention. a gentle hand made its way to her wrist, pushing the phone from her grasp and into her lap “i think we should talk about the elephant in the room”

“i really don’t…” she muttered, her voice shaking “it’s fine, you know me”

“but caitlin, it’s not” you maneuvered around the bed, turning around and pulling your knees to your chest so you could fully face her. she laid her head back on the headboard, tilting her jaw away from you “you always say that, and i know you’re strong and can handle it. but tonight wasn’t ok and i know you know that”

you noticed the way her muscles tensed, preparing for a conversation she wished she would never have to have. you reached over to her, hand resting on her thigh as you rubbed soothingly. she squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed deeply to hold back tears. but it was no use, she was already hiccuping as sobs racked her body. you felt like your heart was being ripped from your chest. she hardly cried, and when she did, it was never like this.

“it’s whatever,” she couldn’t bring herself to look at you, beating herself up for even being upset in the first place “that’s just how it is, i’m the rookie and-”

“caitlin, stop” you begged, knowing where this was going. she was trying to brush it off once again. you disregarded her thigh, now moving even closer to her to place a hand on her cheek “that’s not just ‘how it is’, you’re allowed to be upset when you get quite literally shoved to the ground. and you’ve got too much on your plate right now, there’s a lot going on”

“i just-i don’t want…” the tears kept coming as she melted into your touch, the weight of her head leaning into your hand “i’m sorry”

“for what, baby?” you ran your thumb across her cheekbone “you have nothing to be sorry about”

“for all of this,” she exhaled, opening her eyes to actually look at you. her eyes slightly red, wet streaks running down her cheeks “for being upset like this, you shouldn’t have to sit here for this, i’m just being dramatic”

“you’re not being dramatic,” you butted in “got it? you shouldn’t have to feel sorry for being upset about something like this and i’ll have you know-i’m more than happy to be a shoulder to cry on, it’s what i’m here for. you can be respectful and reserved on the court and to the press, but you should never apologize for coming home and being vulnerable. especially with me”

a wave of silence washed over the room, caitlin’s exasperated sniffles being the only sound. she took a deep breath before continuing, gaze flickering down to her hands that were now fidgeting in her lap.

“i hate it so much,” she said, tears now only coming down harder “it was fine at first, but…but it’s just too much, i can’t”

“hey hey hey, it’s ok” you closed any distance between the two of you, wrapping your arms around her and bringing her in your chest. she instantly buried her head underneath your chin, allowing you to run your fingers through her hair and rub her back comfortingly “i know, baby it’s gonna be ok”

“i thought i could handle it, you know?” her voice was small, strained even. the collar of your shirt now damp, her lengthy fingers grabbing desperately at your sides for comfort “but it’s hard to process it all…like sure, being the rookie’s hard, but…but for some reason it’s just way more difficult than i imagined. and getting shoved around sucks, but it’s not even that. i don’t know how to explain it…im just so-so frustrated”

you listened attentively, giving your two cents when it was needed, humming in agreement as she ranted. you let her get it all out, hoping that this would help take some of the weight of her chest. her stubbornness to talk about things like this caused her a great deal of pain in the end, and you’d do anything in your power (even if it were sitting here like this all night) to ease her worries. you couldn’t describe how proud of her you were, grateful that she was trusting you enough to tell you how she truly felt.

“i think i’m just so overwhelmed with everything…with press, with all these expectations, with games…all of it has just been hammering down on me and it’s really fucked me up” she finished, taking a gasp of air after she poured her entire heart out to you.

“i get it, babe” you concurred “being new is hard and i can’t even imagine how much pressure you’ve been putting on yourself over this past year. and you know i don’t know much about the game and all that, but…but what i can say is, is that you aren’t alone. you have so many people who love you and support and are here for whenever you have days like this. neither me, your friends and teammates, your family, or even your fans expect you to walk out of the season like it was nothing. this is supposed to be hard and you’re supposed to have emotions like this. i love you more than anything and i need you to know that i’m here for you through all of this, alright?”

she sat up from being curled into your embrace for what felt like hours. her tears were now mostly dry, although her nose was still a light shade of pink from the congestion. another exasperated breath tumbled from her lips as she urgently grabbed both sides of your face, leaning into you. her lips met with yours in haste. she kissed you deeply, a small whimper emitting from her throat.

“i genuinely don’t know what i’d do without you,” she said, resting her forehead on yours, your hands cupping hers as they stayed firm to your face “you always know what to say, thank you for listening and being there for me”

you laughed, grinning as you looked into her gorgeous eyes “anytime, anywhere, no matter what. i’m so proud of you babe”

after a few more words were passed between the two of you, it was decided that you both were in dire need of some rest. caitlin was tired enough as it is, coming home and letting all of her emotions go had to have been even more exhausting. getting under the covers, caitlin moved down the bed so that she could rest her head just above your stomach, the sound of your heartbeat easing her stress.

“i love you so much” she yawned, fingers snaking underneath your shirt to run along your soft skin.

“i love you too, cait” you sighed, finally letting sleep take over your body.

233 notes · View notes

latenightdaydreams · 15 hours

Note

Perhaps you have plans for things, but can you please write part 2 of Viking! Konig? I'm so curious how would reader get used to her new life and her new husband

Husband upgrade🤭

Viking!König x Reader Part 2 (fem)

MDNI🔞

Part 1

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, p in v, breastmilk

2.1k word count

Two middle life blonde women gently help you out of the tub they were bathing you in. Small drops of water fall to the wooden ground beneath you. They speak in a soft tone, but in a language you cannot understand. They’re telling you how beautiful you are and how lucky you are to be König’s queen.

You’re seated in a wooden chair, drying off from the bath. One woman stands behind you and combs through your hair. The other leaves out of your view to grab something. You shiver slightly, being naked and wet.

��Vi varmer deg opp snart.” The woman’s voice is kind, and she stops combing your hair and caressing your arms, trying to warm you.

You don’t respond, not knowing what she said. In a weird way, her touch feels familiar and calming. With a simple nod of your head, she goes back to combing your hair.

The other woman walks in front of you, holding up a beautiful blue dress. Again, she speaks and you just gaze up at her. Her blue eyes are bright as she’s speaking. Your head pulls back slightly as the tension on your scalp grows from your hair being pulled into a long braid.

Once your hair was done, she stood you up to dress you. The indigo blue dress fits you tightly, extenuating your breasts and the curve of your waist. A woven belt placed around your waist and a necklace with a medallion of a wolf dangles for it. Leather shoes tied to your feet as you

“Hun er klar.” She exclaims as she sees you totally transformed into a queen. “La oss gå.”

You leave the small house, their arms wrapped in yours as your guild you down a pathway. Inside, you feel as though you are about to throw up. Your feet drag beneath you, dreading seeing König.

“I can’t” You try to turn but the women’s grip on you is firm.

“Du blir bra.” One speaks as she pets your arm.

König paced back and forth in his house waiting for Hilda and Thyra to finish cleaning you for him to enjoy. He walks shirtless and without a mask, exposing his sculpted body covered with battle scars, tattoos on his pecs, and scars on his face. His light blonde hair falls to his shoulder, some pushed behind his left ear.

His head turns as he sees the door open and you enter. The same worried look that has plagued your face this whole journey is still there. König walks to you and takes your hand, thanking the women and sending them on their way.

Worried or not, you’re still the most beautiful woman he has ever laid eyes on. You look as if a goddess decided to come live amongst men. He will never understand how he got so lucky as to find you. Your breasts are full and swollen with milk, he can’t wait to taste you.

“You look beautiful, Liebling.” The door closes, and it’s just the two of you.

“Please, I can’t stay here.” You instantly plead, voice shaking. “I need to go home.”

“You are home.” He looks down at your face, studying you in the low light. “Don’t be so sad.”

“My children—”

“Are safe at home.” His hands caress your arms up and down.

“I need my children here.”

“I’ll give you new ones. Stronger ones.”

König’s hands grasp yours and bring them to his chest. You look at his body, turning your head away to gaze at the ground. He lifts your chin to face him.

“How about you come with me? I’ll help you forget about your troubles.”

There was no room to protest as he grabbed your hand and led you to the large bed in the corner of the room. He sits on the bed and keeps you standing in front of him. His hands roam over the curve of your body. On the journey back he refrained from touching you so you could mourn your last life, but now- now you’re all his.

“Are your breasts sore?” He asks as his hands feel how swollen they’ve become after days away from your child.

You don’t answer, but just look him in the eyes. It’s clear to see that you’re too full to be comfortable. His hands squeeze slightly and the indigo fabric begins to darken from the milk he expressed. Thyra and Hilda got you all dressed up only for König to ruin you.

König grabs at the woven belt around your waist and slowly undoes it, pulling it towards him, and laying it on the bed beside him.

“Please stop, I’m a married woman.” You step back.

“You are. To me.” He wraps his arm around your waist and brings you closer.

“In the eyes of God, you’re not my husband.”

“God? Which one?” König teases as his hand runs down to rub your plump ass. “Here, in my land, you’re mine. Unless your old family comes to my shore and fights for you back…you’re mine.”

You just stare into his eyes and nod. Realistically, your husband will never come for you. He wouldn’t even know where to look. The memories of your life with him, with your children flashes before your eyes until a tap on your ass takes you out of your own mind.

“Let’s get you more comfortable.” His voice is a soft whisper as he stands to get you naked in front of him. The last piece he grabs is your necklace, setting it down on top of your dress.

You stand naked. Your breasts are full and round. Body soft and curvy. A small white pearly bead of milk lingers on your left nipple. Between your legs is a soft patch of hair, he can’t wait to feel it rub against his face. All you can think about is how God will smite you for infidelity, you can only hope he understands.

“Look at you. Beautiful.”

König wraps his arms around you and places you gently on the bed, as if you were a delicate jewel he didn’t want to harm. He looks down at you as he finishes undressing. As he steps out of his pants, you can see his massive cock bounce, leaning down. He notices you looking at him, making him feel cocky.

“Big, ja?” He walks to you, parting your legs. “Let me show you how a real man fucks.”

Instantly, a blush forms on your face as you look at his blue eyes. His blonde hair falling forward as he looks down at you. You hate to admit that, compared to Callum, König is far more attractive. Your eyes travel all over his body, inspecting his tattoos as he moves on to the bed with you. He notices your gaze and smiles.

“It’s for my family name.” He whispers as he rests his large body next to yours.

“Oh.”

König moves his lips to yours, tenderly kissing you. You don’t kiss back at first, and that's okay. He knows you’re nervous. His lips leave yours and travel down your neck, he lightly nips at your flesh. A small whimper leaves your lips causing him to smile.

Lifting his head for a moment, he moves his hand to your breast and squeezes. A fountain of milk begins to spurt out. König moves his mouth to your other nipple and begins to suck. He continues to squeeze the other to spray himself with it.

A mixture of relief and pleasure rushes over you. Callum has not touched your breasts since the milk came in, finding it repulsive. König acts like a starved man, as if your milk is the only thing that can save you. It’s…hot.

Milk begins to drip from the corner of his mouth, rolling down your breast. He slowly pulls away, licking his lips. “So sweet.”

König licks in between your breasts and over the other, cleaning up the mess he’s made. His hand slowly trails down your body and touches your pussy. The feeling of your wet folds between your fat pussy lips drives him wild.

“I can’t wait to bury my cock deep inside of you.” He growls as his lips kiss up your neck.

König moves his body between your legs, running his hands from your breasts down to your hips. He brushes his hair back and out of his face with one hand as he presses his cock against your entrance. You gaze up at him before he moves his hips forward.

“Wait.”

His eyes move to your eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I- I can’t. My husband—” You were cut off by the euphoric sensation of meaty cock being shoved into your tight little cunt. A moan spills from your lips as your eyes go wide.

König grins looking at your reaction. He leans over your body to kiss the tip of your nose. “I am your husband now. Don’t forget that.” The words leave his lips as he slowly shoves the rest of his cock into you.

Your nails dig into his arms as you squeeze your eyes shut. König looks at your face, your mouth hanging open and eyebrows pinched together. His hips slowly pull back before pushing back into you slowly; enjoying the look on your face as he does. A small chuckle leaves his lips as he pulls away.

“My perfect queen.”

He grabs your hips, pulling your rear up slightly off the bed as he bucks forward into your tiny cunt. Your back is arched as his fingers dig into your ass. Loud moans leave your lips, loud enough people passing the home can hear the two of you.

“König, I- it’s too much.” You feel a tingle run over your body as a heavy pressure builds in your core.

He realizes that you’re about to cum, “beg for it.”

“For what?”

“To cum.”

“I- I can’t.” You feel shameful. Shame for having sex with someone other than Callum and shame for feeling this pleasure. You’ve always been taught to not give into this type of lust.

“It’s okay to let go.” He whispers in your ear as he leans over you, his arms on either side of your head. His lips meet yours, pushing his tongue past your lips. You open your mouth accepting him in as you mewl pathetically.

You turn your head away, desperately begging. “Please…harder.”

He grabs your head and forces his tongue back into your mouth. Moans leave your lips into his mouth as your legs tremble around his waist. His kisses begin to trail to your cheek and down your jawline as he feels your walls flutter around his cunt.

“There you go.” His kisses travel down to your breasts.

König pulls out and stands from the bed, grabbing your legs and pulling you to him. His arms wrap around you and hold you up. One arm holds you tightly to his body as the other reaches down to line himself up with you. He pushes forward while lowering you slightly. A groan leaves his lips, your arms wrap around his shoulders.

His fingers grasping the supply flesh of your ass as his hips thrust into you; your tight little cunt squeezes his cock as he bounces you on his length. The lustful daze you’re in makes you gaze up at him as if you’re in love. The sound of your wet pussy and little pitiful sounds leaves your lips mixing. König glances down to your breasts bouncing. Everything is just perfect.

“Y/n…” He groans as his cock pulses, face scrunching with pleasure.

The next morning you take up to an empty bed. You rub your eyes and stretch, slowly stepping out of the bed. That’s when you noticed König sitting nude and watching you with a smile. Your eyes travel along his body before meeting his eyes, trying to sit in a way that conceals your body.

“Don’t try to hide your beauty, Liebling. It’s just us here.” He stands and walks over to you, caressing your face. Your braid is barely together and face flushed with an afterglow from last night’s activities.

“We have a long day ahead of us. You’re going to be introduced to my people as their new queen. They will be astonished at your beauty.”

You look into his eyes and nod. There is still a lingering sadness in your eyes, he is aware you miss your old life. It will take time for you to move on, but he knows you’ll be happier here with him. No longer are you poor and working the fields. Now you’re a queen.

#konig #konig x reader #könig #konig cod #konig x y/n #könig x reader #konig smut #könig smut #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig x y/n #könig x you #konig x you #konig x reader smut #cod smut #smut #cod konig #konig call of duty #könig call of duty

174 notes · View notes

biolumien · 1 day

Note

Tired and sleepy reader who gets affectionate 10x more than usual with soushiro...... fluff

notes: short and cute... soft and sweet... im very sleepy all the time. this speaks to me. obligatory soundtrack for this lil' thing is this album.

nights like these

soshiro hoshina x gn!reader no warnings apply, they're just cute. word count: 808

“it’s 3 AM,” hoshina whispers, leaning close to your face. “you know that, right?”

it’s been an ever-increasing habit of yours to call hoshina over right before you went to bed—you’d frequently call him over in the middle of the night, to increasingly later and later hours–and yet he’d show up each time, without fail. you’d texted him in the middle of the night, holding your phone close to your face, rubbing at your eye as you blearily texted for him to come over.

“mm,” you whine sleepily, reaching out to touch his face, letting your thumbs brush across his cheeks.. “hoshinaa.”

“yes?” hoshina’s voice was soft as he rested his hands on the bed, letting himself lean into your touches. as your thumbs brushed across the corners of his lips, you could feel the way his smile quirked upwards into your touch. one of his fangs poked out a little bit, teasingly biting the pad of your thumb. you whine, ever so softly, and he laughs fondly, pressing his face closer to yours. “what is it?” “stay,” you mumble. “don’t want you to go. stay here.”

“mm.” hoshina’s hands reached up to wrap around your wrists, his thumb brushing the back of your hands. “greedy. i still have things to do, you know.”

“no you don’t,” you protest, brushing your face against his. you can feel the way he shivers against your skin, “‘m asking you to sleep with me, soshiro, what could be more important?”

“mm…” hoshina’s voice turns into a low drawl–you can feel the way his voice vibrates in his chest. “just don’t wanna get caught. the rest of the third division’s never gonna let this go if they find me…” though as he says this, he’s gently pushing at you ever so slightly, nudging you deeper into your bed, trying to make room for him. “c’mon, darling dearest. move a little bit for me.”

you shift backwards a little, yawning a bit as hoshina takes off his jacket, throwing it somewhere on the floor behind him as he pulls up your covers, slotting himself neatly beside you. you yawn again, pressing your face into his collarbone as soon as he’s settled. for how lithe he is, his chest is hard, too–firm and tensed with muscle. you can feel the way his heart beats, slow and steady.

he hums, wrapping one of his arms around you, pulling you closer.

“you’re so needy, y’know?” hoshina teases, running a hand through your hair. “what am i gonna do with you?”

“mmh,” you kiss his neck, and his skin is warm. he smells faintly of something sweet and clean, and he chuckles.

“hey, i’m talkin’ to you…” he yawns a bit, his body tensing a little bit as he entangles his legs with yours, leaning forward to bury his face in the nape of your neck. “mm…”

“how was work today?” you ask, gently touching at the nape of his neck. he feels warm, a tactile weight beneath your hands, and you can’t help but feel the desperate desire to swallow him fully, fully entangling yourself in him–till you wouldn’t be able to tell where you start and where he ends.

“mm. fine. boring,” hoshina says. “filin’ paperwork keeps me up all night. needed t’write up a report. i’d much rather be out there fightin’.” he presses a kiss to your neck as well, almost biting down against your skin. you shudder, entangling your hands in his hair. “how about you?”

“boring,” you respond. you tilt hoshina’s head up slightly, blinking up at him. his scarlet eyes were ever-so-slightly narrowed with sleep, his expression intense even though his body belied his weariness, how exhausted he really was. but his face is so fond–a fondness that makes your throat squeeze, almost. you lean up to slot your lips together, and he hums ever so slightly, moving his lips against yours sleepily.

“this is the highlight of my day,” you murmur against his lips, and he chuckles.

“sap,” he teases.

“mm. shut it, you. you’re the one in my bed right now,” you mumble, pressing closer to him.

“only after you asked,” hoshina says, but his hand around you is firm, protective–possibly even a little possessive as it moves to the small of your back.

“negotiation’s one of my best traits,” you tease.

“it is,” hoshina says, ever so fondly. his hand reaches up to brush your hair from your face. “n’you’re lucky i love you, and you’re cute when you ask.”

you hum, leaning into his touch, kissing his palm.

“i’m sleepy,” you complain, a pout coming across your lips.

“then sleep,” hoshina says, kissing you again on the lips. “i’ll be here.”

“mhm,” you mumble, letting your eyes fall shut as you tuck yourself against hoshina, feeling the warm embrace of sleep take you into its arms.

#kaiju no 8 #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #kaiju no 8 x reader #x reader #kn8 x reader #fat fingered my enter key and sent everything early!!! love it here oops!!!! my bad!!!!!!!!!!!

164 notes · View notes

studioghibelli · 3 days

Text

a tale of two cities | a cooper howard x reader

summary: you’ve been kidnapped by the Big Man. a certain bounty hunter comes to rescue you.

warnings: inaccurate fallout lore, obvious age gap, pre-established relationship, mentions of virginity, angst central, very brief allusions to previous sexual encounters, etc.

notes: wanted to try out a different writing style with this one. don’t know how i feel about it just yet! hope y’all enjoy, i love my sexy bone man so much.

“-Well now, you see what we got here, don’tcha? Young female, vital organs intact, high egg count-“

“What do you know about my eggs?”

In unison came a harsh “Shhh!”

You stood behind a counter of an “organ bank” that you knew was a front for something or another, eyelids heavy with annoyance as you listened to your captor bicker with the festering attendee.

“Can you please get this over with?” You were practically begging, knees sore from the long journey, and tongue dry from a lack of water.

“Didn’t your daddy ever teach you to keep your mouth shut when others were talking?” A man with a ratty face and browning teeth glared at you, the bowie knife in his hand glistening with the promise of an oncoming cut if you kept running your mouth.

You looked down at the ground, kicking at a pile of rubbish. You couldn’t help yourself when you muttered: “I never knew my daddy.”

“Bitch!” The man snarled, holding the blade of his knife to your throat.

The attendee at the counter stood up, placing a hand on your captors arm. “Now, now, Isaac. You know the Big Man doesn’t like his women all scratched up in the face.”

This supposed Isaac shot you a chilling look, before retracting his blade. The attendee spoke again. “I can give you seventy-five caps.”

“Seventy-five? You’ve got to be kidding me, man. This one’s worth at least ninety.”

“Ninety? She’s got a scratch, right there-” The attendee pointed in your general direction, muttering something or another about the Big Man.

You stood there, crossing your arms and staring at the ceiling. You counted each speck in the tearing paint, getting up to 962 different splatters, before they had finally reached an agreement. Apparently, you were worth 83 caps.

Hmm. Not bad.

“Alright ma’am, follow me. Right this way.”

You followed the mystery person, turning to glance over your shoulder. The ratty captor twirled his fingers at you, glancing down to shuffle through his caps. You snapped him your middle finger, rolling your eyes as you tripped over your own two feet.

Big Man was not a name you had ever heard of, and to be frank, you had no clue what was going to come to you. At best, you’d have a kidney taken out, and at worst you’d be sliced up for sandwich meat.

“So…. what is this place?” You asked.

“A breeding center.”

You stopped dead in your tracks. You were sure your eyes were about to pop and roll right out of their sockets. “A what now?”

“A breeding center.” The attendee repeated it as though it were the most normal thing in the world. “The Big Man has goals for our side of the Wasteland, you know. It all starts with young women and his seed.”

“I think I’m going to vomit.”

“Oh, please don’t do that, miss. The Big Man hates bodily fluids.”

“Apparently all bodily fluids.” You muttered, your feet dragging as you followed.

The man stopped at an iron door, motioning with his hand towards the entrance. “You may enter in to his office now. Have a good day!”

You were face to face with your apparent destiny. Behind that door, you weren’t too sure what horrors awaited you. A gigantic, gnarled, half-radioactive man who was more monster than human? A charming megalomaniac with a penchant for collecting limbs? It could be anyone, anything, for all you were certain of.

But enough guessing, now it was time to get your hands dirty. And other places too, apparently. With a deep breath you pushed the door open, coming face to face with….

The shortest man you had ever seen.

He had a blonde bowl cut and icy blue eyes, plump pink lips and freckles across his nose. The top of his head probably stopped at your breasts, and he wore a black leather jacket that was stained by the sun.

“Ah, there you are, miss.” He spoke like a toddler, his speech inflections odd and hard on the ears.

Enter: Sarcasm. The man exuded sex, really.

You didn’t know what else to do. You stood there blinking, unable to form any coherent sentences.

This was the Big Man? You could reach your hand out, place your palm on his forehead, and stop him from touching you, like a child trying to pester an adult. The thought made a smile grace the corner of your lips.

“You’re…. uh- you’re the Big Man?”

“Yes.” When he nodded, his hair swayed in unison with his movements. It was almost mesmerizing.

“Um… okay. So do I just- do I take my clothes off here?”

“Ew. No. That’s not how we do things around here.”

“But the guy outside told me it was a-”

“Yes. We will artificially inseminate you.”

You sat yourself down in a seat, staring at him as you tried to process everything. “What…. the fuck.”

“I know this is a lot to take in, miss, but rest assured you will get the upmost care here.” Big Man smiled at you, clasping his hands together as he tottered over to his chair. “Now, I just have a few questions to ask you.”

“Uh, sure. Go ahead.”

“Age?”

You answered him, still not fully there as you took in the room. Book shelves lined with tearing pages, framed photos from days gone by, bottle caps and vials spread about- it was the room of a rich man, that much you knew for certain.

“Do you have all your organs?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Very good!” He smiled, writing something down on his paper. “Okay, yes. Let’s see here… oh! Yes. Of course. Are you a virgin?”

“What?” You scoffed, almost insulted that he would ask.

“It’s a simple question we need for our records. You won’t get in trouble if you’re not. Well…. maybe a little trouble.” He pinched his fingers in the air, a mischievous giggle escaping his lips.

You were half tempted to lie, but also half tempted to see what would happen if you were honest.

The truth was- you were definitely not a virgin. Your eyes settled on an inhaler of drugs in the corner, your head swarming with thoughts of your Ghoul, of his hands, of his tongue.

Your eyelids fluttered shut for a moment.

“Hey there, little lady.” His voice was imprinted in to your brain, the twang of his words, the smell of his clothes. “What do we have here?” He eyed you as he inhaled the last supply of his vial, tongue sweeping across his lower lip.

You were splayed out on the desk of the abandoned building, legs spread, open and tantalizing for him.

“Here to serve you your dinner.” You whispered, shooting him a sultry wink. “Mr. Howard.” You added with a giggle.

Cooper had nearly pounced on you then and there, his head buried in your thighs in record time. His nails dug deliciously in to your skin, and your hands cradled his smooth head as he devoured your arousal, allowing your taste to burn in to his tongue.

“Um… I am…uh.” You were flustered now, and you couldn’t help but fan yourself with a spare piece of paper beside you. “No. No, I am not a virgin.” You finally stated.

“What?!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “That’s not good. Not good at all.”

“Hey! You just said-”

“Terms and contracts my dear, terms and contract. Oh, this is not good at all. Not good. Well, we’re just going to have to dispose of you. Ugh. It’s so hard to find a clean woman out in these horrors.” He was moaning out in annoyance now, his voice pitiful and low. Blah, blah, blah. It all sounded the same to you.

You scoffed. “Whatever. I never even signed a contract.”

Big Man walked over to his intercom. “Keegan, we have another dud. Send in the reinforcements.” He spoke, eyeing you through narrowed, angry lids.

A few moments passed, and Keegan, who you assumed was the festering attendee that had walked you down to his office, had yet to respond.

“Keegan?” Big Man said into the intercom. “Answer me, my little peanut.”

God, this guy was weird. You stared at him with crossed arms and a raised eyebrow, trying your hardest to take this situation seriously. Okay, maybe not your hardest.

“Maybe a roach got him.” You shrugged, and the little man looked at you, scoffing as he shuffled through his drawers.

“He’s useless to me anyways. I’ll just have to do the dirty work myself.”

Neither of you had paid attention to the door opening, but soon the smell of gunpowder and dirt filled your nostrils.

You knew who it was without having to turn around.

“Allow me, my good dir.” The figure behind you purred, and you heard the sound of a lasso unhooking from a belt. In five seconds flat, Big Man was on his belly, wrapped tight in a rope.

“Cooper.” You muttered, giving him a glance from the corner of his eye.

“Little lady.” He greeted you back with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm. “Knife or gun?”

“You asking me or him?”

“You.”

“Gun. He doesn’t like bodily fluids.”

There was a scoff. “Always were fuckin’ soft.”

A gunshot ricocheted through the walls, followed by a head thudding against the wood flooring. When you turned, the Ghoul was standing there, a hand on his hip as he inspected the chipped tip of his pistol.

You hadn’t seen him for months. You had gotten in to a fight, he had thrown some low handed insults your way, and it ended in a wrestling match that had you shaking sand from various crevices of your body for the weeks to come. The lonely, Ghoul-free weeks.

And to be honest, you had missed him. You had missed his dark eyes, his southern drawl, his witty quips. You had missed the way he’d hold you beside your fires, the way he’d practically dance with you while you were fighting off raiders and monsters.

With him, you had known some of the happiest times of your life. But according to Cooper, you were nothing but a distraction, a good time in the middle of a shit storm.

The thought made you scoff.

Yeah, just a good time. That’s why he just saved your ass. Well…. “saved.” There wasn’t much to save you from, and yet, he did.

“Why are you here?”

“Vials and caps in here.”

“How’d you know about it?”

Cooper rolled his eyes, turning to look at you over his shoulder. “I got my ways. Now leave me alone.”

“Leave you alone?” You scoffed, picking up a half broken figurine off the Big Man’s desk. You chucked it at his broad back, watching the fickle glass shatter against it.

He turned around in record speed, picking something off his desk and throwing it at you in return. You dodged it easily. “Don’t fuck with me today.” He warned, pointing the tip of his gun towards you. “I mean it.”

“Yeah right.”

Your name tumbled off his mouth low and slow, like a warning growl from a predator in the night. Your stomach turned, and you knew he was being serious, his barred teeth sent in your direction said it all. But for some reason you wanted to antagonize him, you wanted to make him feel pain. You wanted him to feel the way you had been feeling for what seemed like an eternity.

When he turned his back towards you once again, shuffling through boxes and shoving caps into his pockets, you picked up a dusty book, staring at the cover.

A Tale of Two Cities.

Raising your arm behind your head, you threw it square in the middle of Coop’s back, knocking him forward with a raspy grunt.

In two seconds flat you were tied up in his lasso and thrown to the floor, his weight resting on your body as he straddled your hips and pinned your hands above your head. His forehead was on yours, and he was growling through gritted teeth like a hungry tiger.

“Now, I gave you a warnin’, pumpkin. I think that was pretty fair of me.” His voice was deep, angry, and his eyes were aflame. “Don’t you?”

You struggled beneath his grip, gasping out for air as you kneed his stomach. He grunted out, the tips of his fingers digging uncomfortably into your wrist at the intrusion.

“Don’t you?” He repeated.

You finally gave up your futile attempts to struggle against him, your neck falling back against the floor. You stared at the speckles on the ceiling, swallowing. These days it seemed you didn’t have that much fight left in you. Exhausted seeped from your bones with every waking moment.

“Yes.” You whispered.

He hummed out in satisfaction at your response. “Thatta girl.”

His gloved finger traced over the edge of your jaw, and he breathed out quietly. His spare hand moved down your arm, tangling itself in your hair as the air grew thick with silence.

The Ghoul hummed out as his gaze traced over you, and you were unsure what emotion had befallen his features. He had always worn a mask of gruffness, of some dark, distant passed that you had never personally known.

“Should I kill you?” He asked quietly, an index finger tracing across your lower lip.

You were quiet, watching him examine you, as if he hadn’t spent countless hours getting to know every inch of you. Your body, your scent, your laugh- it was engrained into his brain. There was a you shaped crater in his chest. He was unsure how you managed to slip past his defenses, but you had.

He had become careless in his old age.

Yet despite it all, what a wonderful creature you were, to be careless with.

Cooper’s thumb was digging in to the dip of your cheek as he awaited your answer. “Should I?”

“I love you.”

The words fell from your lips before you could stop them, and you both stared at each other with wide eyes, unsure of what had gotten in to you.

“You what?!”

“Ohh my God. Oh my God.” You were panicking now, unsure of why you would ever admit to something as embarrassing as that.

Cooper sat up, still straddling you, and looked up at the ceiling as he searched for words. He placed his hands on his hips, no doubt calculating what his next move would be.

Your next sentences were spoken in unison:

“Why would I say that?”

“Why would you say that?”

His eyes were stirring with emotions you had rarely seen him wear so evidently. Guilt, annoyance, bitterness- no longer was he the smooth talking cowboy. Not right now.

No. Right now, he had no idea what to do, no idea what to say. Hundreds of years of roaming the wasteland had not prepared him for this. Whatever… this was.

You sat up on your elbows, cocking your head to the side. Your thoughts were flooded by that night. The night you had seen him last, before he had knocked down the door to this office less than thirty minutes ago.

The campfire was crackling, a roasted slab of meat sizzling atop the embers. It had been a long day. An exhausting day. You were hungry, annoyed, tired.

The wasteland was full of assholes and cannibals, and it seemed on some days that they were all out to get you, and only you. The sound of boots behind you stirred you from your thoughts, and you smiled at the feeling of a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey trouble maker.” The Ghoul’s voice was quiet, tired, you knew he was aching after a long day, you knew no matter how much sleep he got, it never seemed to be enough.

“What if you never find them?” You asked quietly, poking at the flames with the handle of your gun.

“I will.”

“But…. how do you know?”

“I’ve loved her for two hundred years. I’ll love her for two hundred more if that’s what it takes.” He turned to look at you, and you knew he was telling the truth.

You swallowed thickly, jealousy coursing through your veins. You were the one who had been by his side for five years. You were the one who got him out of trouble, you were the one that had been there for him day and night, traveling the wasteland together, fighting off hoards of ungodly, unspeakable creatures.

And yet, despite it all, despite all the blood, the wounds, the sleepless nights- he only seemed to care about her. His ex-wife. The woman who had helped cause the end of this world.

“Who says she has?”

He turned to look at you, daggers shot in your direction. A silent warning to tread carefully- a warning you both knew you would not heed.

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve loved her for all these years. How do you know she has, too? She doesn’t strike me as the loyal type, considering she’s part of the reason we’re here. You’re radioactive, I’m being hunted, the world around us is falling apart. To be quite honest, Cooper Howard, I’m not so fucking sure why you’re still hung up on her!” You had never been so heated, you had never raised your voice like this with him- but your ever growing resentment towards his mission had been festering for far too long, and now it was bubbling up at the surface.

That night he took you by the throat, holding until you saw stars. He offered you no words, he only choked you until he was sure he’d kill you. But something inside him wouldn’t allow for that.

What a horrible choice that was.

You slammed your heel into his groin, watching as he tumbled to the ground. With a mighty roar he tackled you, a face full of sand coming your way as he rolled you on to your stomach. While attempting to tie your wrists you squirmed away, kicking your knee into his chin.

For what felt like hours you two tangoed, wrestling until you were bound to give up. In a way, it was the most honest exchange you had ever experienced with him.

Two tired humans, fighting for something neither of them truly understood. It bordered erotic, the way your bodies moved and pressed, the way his blood tasted in your mouth, the way your skin felt between his teeth.

By the end of the night you both were laying down in a tangled heap beside the dying fire, and when you awoke the following morning, Cooper was gone.

In the dingy light of the office room, the memories of that night flooded your memory. You still had a healing wound on your neck the shape of his incisors, and your arms were calloused by the crusty scabs caused by his fingernails.

Above you, the Ghoul swallowed thickly. His hand moved from where it rested at his side, and he pressed it flat against your chest. For a moment he allowed it to rise and fall with each of your breaths, focusing on the feeling of your heartbeat on his palm.

“You’re a pain in my ass.” He whispered, sucking a rush of air in through his teeth. “Always have been.”

“Are you leaving me again?”

“No.” A long moment passed before he spoke again. “Because she was my wife.” He muttered beneath his breath.

“What?”

“That night. You asked me why I kept lookin’ for her. Because she was my wife.”

“Was?”

He looked at you, blinking slowly. “Was.” He repeated quietly, as though he had just discovered something he didn’t want to. The truth of the matter was- he had.

“Coop.” You whispered, cupping his face in your hands. His skin was rough and leathery beneath your fingertips, worn and aged by the harsh test of time.

“Did you mean it?”

“That I love you?” He nodded. “Yes.”

Cooper stared at you with sad, distant eyes. “I’d love you back if I could, sugar.”

“You-you could.”

He shook his head slowly, the brim of his hat gingerly shaking around his head. His finger traced shapes along the ridge of your brow. “I can’t. I don’t got anymore left in me. Been searchin’ for the same thing for so long, don’t think I can change my ways.”

Cooper eased off of you, sitting down beside you. His hand rested on your thigh, and you placed your own over it, staring up at the ceiling once more.

You counted 836 speckles before he spoke again.

“I can’t give you lovin’ but I can give you protection. And in this world that’s practically the same thing.”

“Don’t know if I could handle that, Coop.”

He let out a low sigh, pulling you close to his chest. “I know.”

You buried your face in his neck, hands grasping ahold of his arm as he hugged you. The Ghoul’s fingers were running up and down your stomach, your thighs, your sides- anywhere he could touch.

You both knew this was the last time you would ever see one another, and in the air a heavy feeling of burden hung low and dormant.

“D’you want to fuck? For old time’s sake?” He whispered in your ear, teeth gently tickling against your neck. Arousal stirred in your belly, and you knew it would be futile to fight against it. In this world, you had learned to give in to your primal instincts.

Turning to meet his gaze, you rested your fingers on his cheek, a smile falling across your mouth. “If you promise me something.”

“What?”

“If…. when you find them, will you send me a postcard?”

He laughed out loud, a chaste kiss being pressed to your temple. There was something sad to his chuckles, something neither of you had ever known before. Despite the feeling of emptiness that began looming within him, Cooper spoke once more, putting on that charming persona he had worn so many moons ago.

“What address should I make it out to, little lady?”

#studioghibelli #cooper howard x y/n #cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #cooper howard angst #the ghoul #the ghoul x y/n #the ghoul x you #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul angst #fallout #fallout show #fallout fanfic #cooper howard fanfiction #the ghoul fanfic #angst #angst with a hopeful ending

211 notes · View notes

wannaeatramyeon · 2 days

Text

Lookism: I can fix him (no really I can)

G/N. Gun, DG, Sammy, Jakey, Ryuhei, Goo, Vin

You didn't roll up your sleeves, ready to fix the men that came into your life. As if you were some amber or red flag magnet, and you had ample time and energy and patience to sort out their issues. Somehow though, it happened anyway. Slowly. Little by little.

With yourself more of a dubious observer more than anything.

Only a fool would invite someone like Gun into their life and not expect troubles. The pitch black eyes are already an obvious omen.

Except. Gun has second thoughts around you. Peaks of humanity showing through his cracks. Fun for Gun used to be fights and bloodshed. Letting his demons out fully. He can never be completely tamed but he realises there's joy, a bone-deep peace, in other things too.

Namely, your company.

James plays his cards to his chest. As James Lee, as Diego Kang, as whoever he may be in the future.

Hides his intention and true character with a detached, arrogant smile. Buries into himself further with his shiny k-pop persona, not letting anyone see his authentic self.

Your touch first cracked his well polished veneer. Your words and keen eyes, astute and observant, blew the gap wide open.

He realises there's no more hiding with you.

Samuel doesn't lack motivation or discipline with most areas of his life. When it comes to his mental health though, it's sorely lacking. Though, delusional and lacking introspection, he never realised it was a problem until you.

He notices your smile dimming during the beginning of his spirals. Feels your absences as he plummets to rock bottom. Craves you with every part of his being as he soars into mania.

Your worried looks and trembling bottom lip gives him the final push he needs to want to improve.

Being Gapryong's son is a part of who Jake is, irrefutable and undeniable. As much as he likes to convince himself he is nothing like his dad, he has fortunately taken all his best traits and foregone the worst.

However. It takes someone like you to come along, that loves all the parts of him-

(Son of the legend of the Pre-generation, the Boss of Big Deal... And the quietest part, the part of him dimmed and muted through the challenges of life, simply Jake Kim, where he can be as he wants to be.)

-For him to finally accept all parts of himself too.

When Ryuhei crushes, falls, obsesses, he finds it hard to fit the whole image of someone in his head.

All their imperfections and flaws and faults are non-existent in his mind. Which sounds harmless and sweet at first thought, but he could never truly connect with anyone if he is only able to see his own perception of them.

But then you showed him all sides of you, forced him to acknowledge the good with the bad, experience the troughs with the peaks.

Until, over time, he fully sees every facet of you.

Being with Goo is like trying to domesticate a wild animal.

He has glimpses of docility assuming he is well fed and well entertained, though he is still likely to bite the hand that feeds at any moment. Of course, only someone used to getting his way would continue being this... deranged.

You take no prisoners. Uncompromising in the way you should be treated, respected, until Goo has no choice but to also fall in line if he wants to keep you by his side.

Vin keeps himself barbed and prickly. Masks his true feelings, his own insecurities, with jokes and insults. Has made more people cry than he can remember and ignores any guilt with a shrug of his shoulders.

He's not a sociopath. It's just that he's been this way for so long he doesn't know how to be anything else.

You cut through the bullshit, give him no judgement for who he is, how he looks, but how he acts.

His jokes are still rude. Insults still mean. But there's no longer any cruelty.

188 notes · View notes

kamiversee · 5 hours

Text

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ F*CK THE LIST

✧.* CHAPTER 2 || Fuck The Foolish Mistakes

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A continued tale after Gojo Satoru's blackmailing seemed to have much more to it than meets the eye.

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, masturbation, pervy!gojo, tw; mentions/hints of stalking & obsession, some heinous activities, dark themes, disturbing actions, etc.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 5.2k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——THE SUMMER BEFORE everything went to shit for you was the same summer in which you and Shoko decided to move in together. For two months of break, it felt so much longer than that. It was a time in which you spent getting closer and closer to Shoko, so much so that it was only natural that you would call her one of your closest friends.

Although, said friendship seemed rather one-sided. Sure, you both got along pretty well but from what it seemed— Shoko had plenty of other friends to run to whenever she wished. So, after you realized that, you got a bit more real with yourself and dubbed her as simply your roommate. Closest friend, but roommate nonetheless.

This summer was also spent single after you’d gotten dumped a few weeks before the last semester ended. You were sad about it for a while but Shoko was there to cheer you up. Meanwhile, the other people you thought were your friends steadily started to showcase their truer colors, revealing how they never really cared too much about you to begin with and dropped you just like your boyfriend had.

Ah, whatever, that’s all old stuff anyway. It took you maybe a week to get over all that foolishness. So by the time summertime came around, you thought things would get better for you. Instead, you lost your job and that’s where your struggle began. You may have picked up one or two during your summer break but ultimately, none of them stuck long enough to trickle over to your final two semesters of school.

And as you went through such things, a certain someone was keeping track of it all like some fucking stalker. This person in question being none other than Gojo Satoru himself. Unlike you, his summer was rather pleasant. He started babysitting due to his not-so-hidden love for children, he went out a decent number of times, and he heard things about you without even asking.

Why? Because he had a wonderful friend who talked about you to no end— Gojo became very thankful for Shoko because it’s due to her that the pages of his notebook began to fill with endless entries about you. Perhaps journaling you became some kind of hobby for him.

Or maybe it was the fact that he couldn’t see you as much since it was summertime so he treasured every bit of information he got on you. Why was he so hooked on noting it all down though? Was it really curiosity at this point or, was it something so much more? He’d long since labeled it as a crush but that doesn’t excuse his journaling.

Hell, at one point Gojo found himself mindlessly writing down vivid details of the way your laugh sounds— from any pitch that’s ever grazed his ears, to the number of breaths taken before and after. It was then that Gojo dropped his pencil and read over what the hell he’d written down.

His hand shot up to his forehead and his fingers went to soothe his temples, brows tensing, and eyes narrowing at his own words. Did he… Did he really just sit here and describe a woman, who he’s never spoken to, and how her laugh sounds? At the realization, Gojo had to close his journal and push it away from himself.

Sometimes, he may try to pretend like he doesn’t see any harm behind this journaling thing of his but at moments like this… He nearly creeps himself out. Imagine if you were to ever stumble upon such a thing. Gojo’s almost disgusted with himself. Not even a hi or hello has ever been spoken to you and yet here he was printing the details of that joyful sound you make when you find something humorous.

Gojo was very self-aware by that point, mentally telling himself that he needed to stop this madness and just talk to you like he craved. Maybe Suguru was right, maybe your having a boyfriend didn’t matter.

On that day, Gojo should’ve listened to his own warnings. He should’ve taken care of his own red flags right then and there.

But instead, he only got worse.

—--

Depicting the details of your laughter was one thing. But going out of his way to print out photos of you he’d found on Instagram was an entirely different level of crazy.

Okay, so perhaps this was no longer just some cute lil’ crush… Gojo doesn’t know how his… curiosity got so dark. He doesn’t know where or when it really started but at some point, he thinks he became aware that this wasn’t exactly normal. Eventually, Gojo realized this was more of an obsession— you were an obsession.

A scary one too. Even scary to himself. The mere mention of your name would make Gojo’s heart race, whenever Shoko came around smelling like you in the slightest bit, Gojo could feel his mind blur and his thoughts instantly run to you.

One time Shoko, who was just as oblivious to this as everyone else at the time, showed the man a video of you and her trying some challenge together. Gojo doesn’t remember the challenge at all or even what either of you was doing in that video but he does remember having his eyes all over you.

He remembers seeing you hug Shoko by the end of the video and the feeling that burned in his heart. Such a deep form of jealousy swirled inside him and he couldn’t understand it. He never cared about Shoko being close to you before but now, it had pained him to watch his friend have the opportunity to feel you– to talk to you.

Something that Gojo told himself he no longer deserved to do. Yeah, he knows it was even more foolish but he felt as though he should be self-punished for his strange actions in regards to you.

Those photos that he printed of you went right into his journal, along with an entry about how he wonders what it’s like to feel your touch. He wonders what holding a full conversation with you would be like. Would you laugh at the things he says? Would you playfully hit him if he utters something ridiculous? Are your hands soft? Would they feel soft wrapped around his cock-

Yet again did Gojo find himself dropping his pencil. Though, he doesn’t know which reason was worse. The fact that he really wrote that question down or the throb he felt in his cock at the mere thought of said question. Gulping, he told himself for the millionth time that he was losing his damn mind.

So much so that he had to push his journal away and really think about what the hell he just asked. He tipped his head back and stared up at the ceiling, letting out a long sigh at himself. He’d lost it, hadn’t he? Thinking about you in such a vulgar way without even knowing what talking to you is like is the very definition of insanity, yes?

No, this is just his obsession. He’s not insane. But hey, maybe the two go hand and hand— maybe there’s no difference between being batshit crazy and obsessing over someone…

Either way, Gojo tries to collect himself, moving to look down at his current state only to find that his cock didn’t just throb, instead the damn thing got hard. The sight was disappointing, to say the least. Gojo stared at the outline of his dick, wondering what the hell is wrong with his body and how the fuck he got hard so damn fast. All he did was think about you…

He moves to part his legs a bit more, trying to comfort himself and deciding he was going to ignore his boner and just return to writing. Though, as he leans up and pulls his journal back toward himself, his cock aches yet again. Gojo lets out a little groan, somewhat scolding himself for being like this.

And then he manages to ignore himself for a bit longer. At least, up until he does nothing more than read your name on his page. His focus narrowed in on the letters of your name, the sound of it echoing throughout his brain before his lips parted and he let out a sound.

His hand shoots up to his face and he covers his mouth, completely confused as to what the hell he’d just done. There was absolutely no way he’d nearly moaned at your name alone. Oh this was… No, he was losing it-, not even, he’d lost it already.

Gojo steadily wiped his mouth, fingers rubbing over his jawline for a moment before he looked down to his crotch. He could now feel how stupidly wet his tip was. Was he in heat or something? How the hell did he get so horny from… reading your name? Thinking about you? Hell, he doesn’t even know where to pinpoint the cause of all this anymore.

Shaking his head, his first thought was that he was in no way going to touch himself to the thought of you. Absolutely not. Fuck no. He may be obsessed but he’s not a… actually, there’s really no word he could use to describe what he’s not right now because he pretty much checks every box for an obsessive pervert.

“Shit,” Gojo huffed, glancing over to his wide-open room door. A second passes, then two, then three before he’s standing to his feet and walking over to the door.

The man glanced out into the hall, finding no signs of Geto anywhere before he shuts his door. Then, he pauses and stares at the lock. He’s not really about to do this, is he?

…

He locks the door and rushes right back over to his seat. Gojo slouches back a little this time and his legs part, his eyes low on his hard cock resting against his thigh and how painfully it was bulging against the fabric of his clothes.

“Fuckin’ hell,” He whispers. There’s no way you’d gotten him this hard…

You and your… everything. The very idea of you made Gojo roll his hips upward, causing faint friction against his clothed cock. Then he shook his head and looked away from himself.

“Nope, I’m not doin’ this shit,” He whispered. He can’t jerk off to some girl he doesn’t even know. He shouldn’t.

It’d be different if you were some pornstar he was infatuated with, then he could jerk off to you and there’d be no issue. But when you’re his friend’s friend… it’d be so weird of him to do so.

Even if you have the prettiest face he’s ever seen. Despite your laugh leaving him in some kind of trance. Ignoring the way your voice sounds. Disregarding how kind you seem from afar. Nevermind the way you walk, the things you wear— and how the first time he saw you, you were in a skin-tight blue dress-

Gojo’s jaw drops a little, “Oh fuck,” His voice is already breathy and his hand has found its way to his aching cock, groping himself through his clothing.

He looks down at himself all over again, body hot and breath unsteady already. He swallows thickly and finally lets out a groan before moving to tug his cock out, watching how it slaps against his abdomen and letting out another heavy breath of air.

Gojo moves his hands to his thighs and just gazes at his cock for a moment, seeing how it twitches so desperately-, desperately for you, and how his tip is leaking with precum already. Hell, it look like he came already, cum leaking down along his dick so lewdly.

What would anyone think if they found him like this…

One of his hands moves to grab his journal and he flips to the page with your pictures on it. He shouldn’t do this. This is wrong-

A whine slips past his lips the second his eyes are met with your face. Then his fingers are wrapping around his shaft and he’s jerking himself off without second thought. “Fuuck,” He moans, tossing his head back with his lower lip beginning to tremble already.

His hand was working the length of his dripping cock furiously, back arching ever so slightly in pure desperation and utter need. Oh how he wished it was your hand here instead of his. Fuck, what would your mouth feel like? Hell, how are you during sex? Are you the submissive type? Would you let him have his way with you? Fuck that pretty mouth of yours like he wishes to?

Or are you the more dominant type? Would you have his legs shaking from sucking him off? You probably would. He can only imagine what your lips would look like wrapped around his cock— already wet with spit and dribbles of his cum. Your face would probably be all messy but you might like that kinda thing, right?

Gojo whines, his eyes flickering and hand not slowing for even so much as a second. Shit, your mouth is probably heavenly but what would your pussy feel like? How wet would you get for him? Would you take him all in one go? Beg him to fuck you faster?

Fuck, would you get on top of him? Take control? Ride him til’ he’s the one begging you to stop? Again, Gojo moans into the air, a few times actually. His wrist rotates as he fists his needy cock, veiny length aching for anything from you.

He wonders if you’d want him to talk you through it. Or if you’d talk him through it. Would you be mean? Nice? Fuck, his thoughts are driving him crazy. In all honesty, he’d consider himself a complete slut for you. He’d do whatever you wanted him to.

Gojo ends up shifting, moving to hunch forward as he grows a bit overwhelmed. “Fuck, fuck-,” He gasps and chokes out a whimper of your name. Would you let him be some little slut for you? Because he would be, with zero hesitation. “Fuck me,” Gojo mumbles, watching as his cock twitches in his hands.

You’d probably praise him, wouldn’t you? Tell him how good he’s doing for you, encourage him to keep going-, or maybe you’d do the exact opposite. Perhaps you would degrade him.

Gojo’s eyes roll back at the mere imagination of you ever degrading him, calling him pathetic for being like this, a slut for shamefully jerking off to you, or even a bitch-

He’s cumming before he even realizes he is, moaning and moaning after the thought of you ever calling him such a thing. He doesn’t even know why that turned him on so much, he’s never been into that kinda thing before but when it’s you, shit… he can’t even control himself.

Messing up his hand, groaning out your name, moving to stand up with shaky legs, and continuing as his cock doesn’t go down. Then Gojo looks at the picture of you again, aligning his cock with the image and stroking himself angrily. He cannot believe himself right now but it’s much too late to care.

The damage is beyond done as he starts moaning again, small whines of fuck leaving his wet lips over and over the more he stares at your picture. Then he’s thrusting his hips into his hand, moving his free hand to grab ahold of the desk in front of him as if to brace himself.

Gojo heaves as he gets himself off. Tears well up in his eyes and he just knows he sounds so stupidly desperate right now, moaning, groaning, whining, and even whimpering for you whilst he fucks his fist. Eventually closing his eyes, he imagines you there with him, mentally illustrating the way your face would twist up every time he thrusts his cock deep inside you.

He could make you feel so fucking good if you ever let him. He’d treat you so well, give you anything and everything under the sun, make sure there’s always a smile on your face, and prioritize your needs over his own at all times.

By that point, he’s chanting your name in mindless little whispers, feeling his balls ache before the tip of his cock spurts out thick and hot ropes of cum— all over that same picture he’d been staring at.

Left panting, Gojo had to deal with the aftermath of his high. His eyes were slow to open and when he realized he came all over one of his pictures of you, he was even more disgusted with himself.

It took him a moment to gather himself after his actions but when he finally does, he cleans the filthy mess he’d made of himself and that damn photo before closing his journal and putting it away— telling himself he’d never do that again.

—---

Although, his little declaration didn’t last very long. A week later and he was jerking off with you in mind yet again. The same guilt and disgust follow afterward and Gojo tells himself he needs something else to put his focus on that’s not you.

Like his job for example; babysitting. What better to put his mind on to distract him from the way his mind, body, and soul crave you so desperately?

With that in mind, Gojo started with his scheduling. As time stood, he had roughly three different kids he babysat on a regular basis, all of which were looked after separately but looked after nonetheless. The first was a girl, whose name was Nobora. She was rather bratty in Gojo’s opinion but he didn’t mind, he liked how having her around reminded him of having that of a little sister.

Then there was Megumi, a child who so clearly hates him but is forced to be around him anyway. That hatred got even worse when the kid broke his leg while on Gojo’s watch— an event in which Gojo will forever find strange because the two were at a park and he swears he looked away for two seconds only to hear screaming moments later by nearby children.

By the time he made it to Megumi, his leg was broken and Gojo was to blame.

Aside from that, the last kid that Gojo found himself watching over sometimes was Itadori Yuji. Now this, this is where things got interesting.

For starters, Gojo never understood why he was hired to watch over Yuji when the kid had a perfectly capable older brother to do so. Then again, he didn’t question it once he saw he got paid quite handsomely for it.

Sometimes Gojo went over to the Itadori residence and others he picked Yuji up. Either way, the number of times Gojo encountered Sukuna was rather slim. They only ever interacted when it was time for payments to be made. Outside of that, Gojo knew little of Sukuna (his school reputation for being a major partier aside).

Any other information he got from the man came from Yuji, who Gojo would randomly question every now and then. Though, Yuji never spoke much about his older brother— only that he’s a bit short-tempered. Given that, Gojo had no reason to think twice about their family or relations at all.

Even when Yuji would appear with a bruise or two, Gojo didn’t put two and two together until it was much too late. The first few bruises, Yuji said he got them from playing around too much and falling, to which Gojo believed since he’d seen how clumsy Yuji could be firsthand.

As such, this went on for weeks and weeks but the day Gojo finally started realizing something was up, was the same day in which he’d finally meet the consequences for his previous actions.

On that day, before Yuji was dropped off to be babysat, Gojo was busy making vows to himself. The first being that he’d finally man up and fucking talk to you. He doesn’t really know what finally came over him but he felt as though it was time. Something, perhaps the universe, told him that after today— he’d grow some balls and hold a genuine conversation with you.

Only a few days ago had he learned from Shoko that you now resided with her so things were going to be rather easy. There was about a week and a half of summer left, giving Gojo some time to not only talk to you but also get to know you firsthand.

His self-revelation came about after he reread every journal entry he had of you, jotting down one final entry of how he planned to talk to you. It was supposed to be casual, he would ask for your number, become friends with you, and go from there based on whether or not you showed any attraction toward him.

With such plans in mind, Gojo thinks it is safe to say that his obsession is finally being tamed. He was getting in control of it after having had such lewd thoughts of you multiple times within the past month and making entries of how he was left feeling in his journal.

That may have been what his last straw was— the whole pervertedness of it all. He was getting weirded out by it himself. Maybe once he started talking to you, his obsession would completely die down. Perhaps the reality of you would help ground him from this fictional high he’s had himself on ever since his obsession was born.

Though, it seems the world finds humor in the suffering of people and Gojo was forced to learn this the hard way.

Of course, as soon as he tells himself he’s gonna clean up his act and do what’s right, his punishment shows up in the form of a person who finds joy in watching others struggle. This person is none other than Sukuna himself, who shows up at the worst time imaginable.

Amid pure stupidity and thoughtlessness, Gojo quickly found himself in a situation in which could not be undone.

—-

After babysitting Yuji for maybe two hours, there was a knock on Gojo’s front door. Yuji sat on the living room couch, watching some cartoons as he swung his feet back and forth. Gojo was in the nearby kitchen, journal in hand before he went to answer the door.

That wonderful journal of his was left sitting on the kitchen counter, right in the open for anyone to see.

That aside, when Gojo opened his front door, he was met with Sukuna. The two barely even greeted one another before the tatted man reminded Gojo it was payment day. The transaction was meant to be done inside so, Gojo allowed Sukuna to enter the apartment.

Yuji hardly glanced over to the two men before Sukuna nodded his head back, silently telling the kid to go ahead and make his way to the car. With no argument, Yuji sighed and grabbed what little of his things before he walked over to the two, briefly said bye to Gojo, and then made his way outside.

Gojo was going to question why Sukuna let the kid go out by himself like that but, he’s made his mistakes of asking too many questions in the past and has suffered the consequences. Not wanting to deal with a mouthy Sukuna, Gojo remained quiet until Yuji was gone.

Phones were pulled out and the two men moved to make that transaction of theirs. Sukuna had strange tendencies and rules, one of them being that Yuji wasn’t allowed to be present for what Sukuna considered adult business. It was something Gojo didn’t understand but, nothing crazy to really bat an eye at.

Just before Sukuna gets ready to send the money to Gojo— something in which he requires Gojo to be present to make sure nothing goes askew, Gojo starts noticeably squirming all over the place.

Sukuna raises a brow, “Fucks wrong with you?”

“Gotta use the bathroom,” Gojo huffs out without moving from where he stands.

The pink-haired man tilts his head, “Then go use the bathroom? I’m not gonna leave without paying you so relax.”

Gojo stands there a mere moment longer, contemplating a few things. The transaction could’ve been done by now but he felt like he was two seconds away from embarrassing himself so he just let out a long sigh before running off to the nearby bathroom. Thus leaving Sukuna standing there alone.

Now, Sukuna doesn’t consider himself to be a nosy person— he could usually care less about what others had going on in their lives unless it affected or entertained him. And where Gojo’s concerned, he honestly did neither at the time. He was just Yuji’s babysitter so Sukuna didn’t see much interesting about the guy.

That was, until he took his time alone to glance around Gojo’s apartment. Sukuna’s eyes wandered, studying the plain attempts at decoration and how utterly unstructured Gojo’s apartment appeared to be. Well, aside from some spots, it was rather clear that two people were living here, one more cleanly than the other.

Even so, Sukuna remained uninterested until he spotted a single book on the nearby kitchen counter. His eyes narrowed and he found himself surprised someone like Gojo would ever pick up a book. Again, the two knew little of one another aside from whatever school reputations they had— Gojo being known as some praying fuckboy and Sukuna being known as some hotheaded party-thrower. One could’ve assumed that the two would get along considering how their interests seem to align.

With that being said, Sukuna found himself walking toward this book without a second thought. The cover was completely blank and he realized it wasn’t a book at all. It was a journal.

Intrigued, Sukuna picks it up and does nothing more than pick a page at random to see if he’d find anything amusing, perhaps something to taunt Gojo with. Y’know, something to get a laugh out of.

The very last thing Sukuna expected to see was a page with a picture of some girl on it in the middle, surrounded by rather… creepy depictions of the woman. Details on the clothing in the picture, how much it cost, where to find it, depictions of where the woman went on that day, whether or not she seemed happy or sad, how many times Gojo heard her laugh-

Sukuna found himself disturbed instantly as he skimmed over the page. Though, not enough to stop him from turning the page. It seemed that such a creepy entry was one of many. Although, the first page he saw was definitely the creepiest. What ended up becoming the cherry on top was when Sukuna read over the fact that Gojo’s never spoken to you.

At that point, Sukuna scoffed, finding Gojo nothing but a fool for writing about a woman in such a way without ever talking to her. With dates, times, etcetera, Gojo had a ridiculous number of entries on this woman, so much so that it actually left Sukuna both curious and… entertained.

So when the sound of Gojo coming out of the bathroom hits Sukuna’s ears, he doesn’t even flinch or attempt to act like he wasn’t looking through the journal. Instead, Gojo walks out of the bathroom and finds Sukuna with the item in his hands.

It was at that very second that Gojo felt his heart sink to his goddamn toes. His eyes went wide and he froze in his steps, Sukuna not even so much as glancing away from the journal in his hands.

Gojo swallowed the overwhelming lump in his throat and attempted to say something-, anything, “What-”

“My my, what a fucking pervert you are,” Sukuna hummed enthusiastically, finally flicking his maroon gaze up to a dumbfounded Gojo. “This is disgusting, really. I mean,” Sukuna glances back down and smiles, “You love this woman and you’ve never even spoken to her?”

All wide-eyed and practically speechless, Gojo fumbles for a way to explain himself, “I-”

“And you fantasize about fucking her quite often,” Sukuna scoffs, tongue seeping out to lick his lips for a moment, “I can see why but shit… You’re a fuckin’ weirdo.”

“You-,” Gojo cocks his head back and blinks, the slightest mention of Sukuna taking interest in your appearance causing him to go right back to that not-so-rational state of his. Blinded by a deep obsession toward you, Gojo is slow with his words, “...You can see why? The hell does that mean-”

“She’s sexy, I get it. I see the lil’ pictures of her you’ve put in here,” Sukuna comments nonchalantly, “And yet, what I don’t get is this uh,” He clicks his tongue and smirks, “Obsession you have with her. Especially without talking to her? That’s…” He trails off for a second, his expression fading into something Gojo can’t quite read.

Gojo gulps and again attempts to defend himself, “I know it’s weird, I… I told myself I’m going to stop-”

“When?” Sukuna interrupts, voice rough, “When you’ve already got her wrapped around your finger and refuse to let her go because of the attachment you’ve created?” He questions the man almost as if he’s speaking from… experience.

“W-What?” Gojo’s brows push together. He never had any intentions of manipulating you in any shape or form, “No, I-”

“Would you tell her how you’ve been stalking her for months-, shit maybe even years based on some of these entries?” The way Sukuna takes a step toward Gojo lets him know that something about this seems to bother the pink-haired man.

“I haven’t been stalking her, I just-”

Sukuna looks down at the open page, “‘I especially liked how happy she looked today, when she smiles, she blinks about five times and when she laughs, it doubles.’ What sane man writes this shit about a woman he’s never spoken to, huh?”

“Sukuna just…” Gojo sucks in a crisp breath of air and attempts to plead with the male in front of him, reaching his hand out for his journal, “Just pretend like you never read that a-and give me the-”

“Aht aht,” Sukuna’s quick to swat his hand away and he nearly laughs at the way Gojo frowns frustratedly, “Did you really think I wouldn’t keep this little gem? Hm? See, you must be a bit confused about how this is about to go.”

For a moment, Gojo just stares. He never imagined this would happen. Hell, he wasn’t exactly careful with his journal but the last thing he expected was for Sukuna to pick the damn thing up. Fuck, he should’ve never left it on the counter.

He lets out a sigh and his voice is small, laced with fear, “...Are you gonna tell her?”

“Am I gonna tell her?” Sukuna simply bursts out laughing, “Ha! What do I look like to you? Some simple-minded fool? No, I’m not gonna tell her.”

Gojo lets out the most thankful sigh of relief, “Thank fuck-”

“You are,” Sukuna states.

And at those words, the room goes silent. So silent that one could hear a pin drop. Gojo felt as though his blood ran cold and Sukuna had this overly smug look on his face.

It was from there on out that Gojo was set to face the consequences of his actions.

mlist || previous || next

tags 1/4; @lavnederr @stopmila @chelsea14 @hillmiaxoxo @choso-enthusiast

@chososdisciple @suguruologist @mitzkooni @annananamin @jakeywon

@thvema @uranometrias @gigiipeaches @isawrd @bored--boring

@soonyoung-park @oidloid @you-make-skz-stay @haesify @paintedcans

@deljojeisbackagain @heeheeswifey @s-kateboardcat @kaalyomi @rilxigh

@win2xsgf @diana4l @angelsleepinggurl @aselvaticotaku @livvyluvsyouu

@tadabzzzbee @buglikeangell @sukunadckrider @todod0kii @mua-for-now

@dazaiswaifuartisan @bee3l0v3r @blkpotionss @cranberrycosmos @cawwotta

@chosomi @gentle-roxyboo @teonawrites @interludered @wannabeotaku

@earthytreeswithc @tapinz @attackonjacksons @hovogliadisogni @hoebuns

157 notes · View notes

multifandomsish · 2 days

Text

A/N: an au where Buckys a mechanic, requested by anon 🫶🏻

pls don’t hate me for how short this is but i wanted to get it out 😭

i wanted to leave this one kind of open and not a lot of detail! i feel like with how i decided to end this one, there’s definitely options for it to keep going if this is popular enough 👀

MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! please send me a request for any Marvel character! or vikings characters too! i’m open to just about any request!

TW: flirting, shyness, embarrassment, kissing.

A warm summer day seemed like the perfect time to go for a drive, but that was proving to be a bad idea as your car rumbled angrily rolling into the parking lot of a small town mechanics shop an hour and a half from where you live. “This has to be just my luck..” you grumble to yourself as you step one foot at a time out of your car, pushing the door closed and walking around, heading towards the shop.

You definitely stood out here with your tight fitting gym leggings and sports bra top, your typical gym attire that felt normal to wear in a gym of strangers working out just like you. But now that you were the only person dressed like this, you felt a small bit of insecurity boiling in your stomach at the thought of eyes on you. If you hadn’t needed help with your car to get back home, you wouldn’t have even made the stop but you felt you had no choice but to have it quickly checked out.

All of the car bay doors are open but not a soul is in sight, the assumption passing through your mind that everyone may be in the office of the shop hidden behind darkly tinted windows. A bell jingles just above your head as you push the slightly heavy metal and glass door open, the smell of oil and something hitting your nose. It takes a quick sweep of your eyes to see there’s three men behind the long desk in the center of the room, another man standing in the doorway leading to the garage where they work. It seems as though your presence makes the atmosphere go quiet.

The man standing in the doorway to the garage catches your eye, almost makes your heart skip a beat at the sight of him. He has beautifully messy brown hair and striking blue eyes, gorgeously muscled arms that are crossed over his tight broad chest. You’ve never seen anyone like him and you really wish you could get a better look at the name patch on his black button down work shirt that’s completely opened, exposing a white tank underneath. The only letters on the patch you can see are a B and Y, your brain wracking for names.

As your brain is trying to piece together a name, you offer a quick and soft friendly smile to the men, clearing your throat gently. “Hi uh- I was.. I was having some issues with my car while on a drive and this was the closest shop I could get to. I was afraid it may breakdown, is there anyone that might be able to take a look at it?” You get out, shyness taking over your senses as your cheeks begin to feel warm, knowing they’re slowly beginning to glow red.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see the man in the doorway shift his weight on his feet as you maintain eye contact with the man right behind the desk. “Why of course ma’am, Buck, you mind going with her and seeing if we can’t help her out?” The man politely asks, clean blonde hair slicked back and just as piercing blue eyes as, who you assume is Buck, has. He’s the one to make a move, pushing himself off the doorway he’s leaned against and taking a step forward, unfolding his arms.

“Of course, not a problem.” Buck offers you a friendly smile as your eyes meet his and it feels as though your stomach does a thousand flips in just seconds. You already know with as awkward as you are, this may not end very well.

You follow behind Buck, just a few steps away, back out of the shop door and towards your car in the small parking lot. “So, what’s going on with it?” He speaks up, the sound of his deep warm voice making your bones tingle.

“I uh.. I was driving down the highway when it started to shake and it kind of smelt like something was burning. Then the check engine light came on the further I drove so I decided it was best to try and find a shop somewhere as close as I could.” You explain, unlocking your car and handing Bucky the keys. You watch as he gets in the driver seat, flipping the key in the ignition just enough to turn the dash on.

After the check engine light comes on, he gets out and motions for you to wait just a second before heading towards one of the open bay doors. He grabs a little handheld machine from what you presume is his area of work before heading back towards you to plug in this machine to your car in hopes it’ll tell him exactly what the check engine light is for.

As he’s waiting for the machine to load you have a second to watch his features and look him over, admiring the way the sun glistens off his skin and makes his hair shine too. You can see the peak of pale white skin under the sleeve of his work t shirt he’s wearing, a line where his tan starts and ends, making a smile form on your lips.

He glances up just seconds before the machine loads, to catch your eyes on him before you quickly look away in embarrassment, wondering if you’d just been caught being a creep. Though in Bucky’s mind, he’s dying to get a good look at you just as you have him.

“Hmm, this isn’t good..” Bucky says once he’s looked down at the handheld, reading what it’s telling him. “You’re having transmission problems.” He explains, glancing back up at you for a second. Your eyes widen then lower as you listen to him, nodding your head.

“That’s expensive isn’t it?” You ask with a soft laugh, pushing your stray hairs out of your face as you glance your car over. “Is it possible for me to make it home? I’m about an hour and a half away.” You ask, chewing on your bottom lip afraid of the answer.

Bucky makes a soft noise with your second question, eyes meeting yours and he shakes his head with a soft chuckle. “You might be lucky to make it another thirty to forty five minutes, but not the whole way home.” He says, unplugging the machine and standing up, eyes drifting down your body as you’re not paying attention to him.

“Let me go talk to my boss, Steve, and see if we can’t work something out to where we can fix your car and get you home for the night, okay?” Bucky offers, sensing a feeling of stress coming from you though it seems to ease with his offer.

“Oh you don’t have to do that! I wouldn’t expect for you to have to worry about getting me home, that’s sweet though, thank you.” You tell Bucky, a giddy smile on your lips at the thought of him going as far as to getting you home safe.

Bucky chuckles and he shakes his head, rough hand running through his hair as the two of you make your way back towards the shop. “Steve might actually write me up if I just let you be to figure it out yourself.” He grins, looking to you. “And anyways, helping a pretty girl like yourself is no weight on my shoulders.” He offers a playful wink that makes your cheeks heat again.

With the nerves that Buckys wink has sent through your body, you stumble over your own two feet stepping back into the shop, nearly face planting onto the stained tile flooring but a strong hand catches you from behind, pulling you into his broad body to bring you back into a standing position. Even more nerves run through you, but the good kind of nerves. The kind that make you yearn for the feeling again and again.

“Watch your step darlin, don’t need you takin a trip to the hospital too.” His breath fans across your ear but you steady your feet to take a step away from him to maybe calm the pounding of your heart in your chest, trying to feign a prideful smile.

“I’m okay, I got it.” You laugh, Bucky hesitating a second before he steps around you and towards the desk where Steve is watching the two of you intently, a knowing smirk on his lips.

Bucky leans half across the desk so there’s little space between him and Steve, keeping his voice fairly low. “Listen, her cars having transmission issues. It’s gonna need a decent fix and she’s an hour and a half from home, let me give her a ride and I’ll work on the car for the night.” Bucky whispers, watching the way Steve’s expression grows even more knowing.

Steve slightly glances around Bucky at you, standing there glancing around the shop waiting room like a lost duck. He gives a soft little laugh and he nods his head at Bucky. “Go ahead, just, hurry back. You do have work to do. No dilly dallying.” Steve says, raising his brows at Bucky and Bucky grins wide at his friend and boss. “You’re the fucking best, man.” He nods, patting Steve’s shoulder and turning around back to you with a smile.

“You okay with me giving you a lift? Of course as small as this town is, a taxi won’t come all the way out and take you back.” Bucky says and you shrug your shoulders. “Id really appreciate a ride back.” You nod, smiling at him and he pulls keys from his pocket.

“You can grab whatever you need from your car, we should be done with it in a day or two depending on everything wrong.” Bucky states and you head back to your car as he heads around the building to pull his old model Chevy around to the front. With your purse and gym bag from the trunk, you climb in the passenger seat of Buckys truck, him patiently waiting for you to settle and get buckled before pulling onto the highway and back towards your town.

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james barnes smut #james barnes imagine #james barnes #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan smut #seb #sebastian #sebastian stan #marvel imagine #marvel smut

134 notes · View notes

siriuslygay1981 · 3 days

Text

Word count- 1066

TW- choking, talk of k!ling, Sorta NSFW , obsessed JEGULUS! Based off of this post

A/N this may have gone out of my hands....it went in a direction I didn't intend TBH... But I still like it very much! Thank you SM @tenakiie for letting me do a microfic for it! I've been trying to find inspo for a writing thing and this was perfect! The art is absolutely lovely :))

Read below the cut!

Regulus let's his hands travel up James's chest, marveling at the way James arches up into his touch. The small gasp that leaves his lips makes regulus groan. He lets out a shaky breath, his chest feels tight with overwhelming emotion.

They had been laying there for a while now, lips touching hands roaming. The two talked and talked and then just laid beside the other.

But as Regulus laid there, thinking of their relationship and how James made him feel, he was angry he was overfilling with love and he couldn't get the thought that he wanted to hurt James. Just a little. Just a small bit of pain. How else could he get this pressure off of his chest but to pinch his arm, bite his shoulder? Maybe...wrap his hands around his neck and squeeze...just for a moment.

Which unsurprisingly is what Regulus ends up doing. He straddles James and loosely wraps his hands around his neck. He frowns down at James who just smiles up at him, eyes trusting and so so soft. It makes the itch harder to resist, he clenches his teeth.

"I want to kill you." He says it softly, says it without even realizing. It's too late to take back now, it's in the air and he's sure James heard it. They're too close to not have.

James rests his hands on Regulus' thighs, squeezes softly before replying

"I'm yours." He says softly "I'm all yours."

His eyes are soft, crinkled at the side, his smile dopey and warm. One hand slides up to his hip and he rubs his thumb comfortingly. Regulus tightens his hands slightly in response and leans down so they're face to face, mere inches apart, but James doesn't even flinch, just traces his eyes across Regulus' face.

"You could...if you wanted to." James whispers, his voice slightly hoarse because of the pale hands still putting pressure on his throat

Regulus tilts his head, he keeps eye contact with James and scoots forward before knocking their foreheads together

"Your friends would kill me if I did..." He says as if he would actually go through with it.

"No." James says his eyes suddenly dark

"I wouldn't let them."

Regulus almost laughs, he tightens his grip again, his thumbs pushing slightly against his Adams apple

"You wouldn't be there to stop them though..." He whispers

Biting his lip he watches James's face twitch, he's angry. Regulus licks his lips and sighs. He can feel James swallow beneath his fingertips, he watches closely as James struggles to speak for a moment.

"You won't be harmed....even if I have to come back from the fucking dead."

Regulus gasps and loosens his hold. Looking down at James, James watches him closely, he rubs a soothing hand up Regulus' back

"No one will touch you.." He says, his voice is thick and scratchy.

Regulus leans closer and tilts his head to the right, his eyes half lidded. Their noses touch, he can feel James's hot breath against his mouth.

"What about you?" He asks huskily

James grips regulus tightly for a moment, conflict briefly flashing in his eyes

"Not even me, not if you don't want me to." He says firmly

Regulus brushes his thumb against James's throat again

"And if I told you right now not to touch me?" He asks, curious to his answer

James let's his hands fall to the side, his breathing heavy and a frown on his face

"Then I won't."

Regulus swallows hard, his eyelashes fluttering

"if I said you never could again?" His voice is low and raspy

James heaves in breath after breath below him, trying to regain some air he must've lost

"If that's what you want love....that's what you'll have."

Regulus watches James' Adams apple bob up and down for a moment he rests his thumb there and almost grins when James stops breathing, stops moving all together.

"I'm going to kiss you now.." Regulus murmurs against James's lips.

He watches the way James's eyes dilate, he groans in the back of his throat.

"God please do-" he whimpers

Regulus leans down and kisses James, his unoccupied hand going to his messy hair and tugging lightly. James gasps and arches up a bit. Regulus grins against his lips and bites James's bottom lip before pulling back slightly.

He lets go and squeezes his hand around James's neck when he sees his bottom lip plump. James makes a small choking sound which makes Regulus immediately loosen his grip, afraid he might've hurt him

James shakes his head lightly, his hand jumping to Regulus' wrist, he pauses before their skin can touch, let's his hand hover for a moment before dropping it

"No...it's ok." He murmurs, his dark eyes staring up at regulus

Regulus tilts his head back and groans, he squeezes his thighs against James's side and let's his head fall back down

"You can touch me James" he whispers, his eyes still closed

James grips the back of Regulus' neck and pulls him down so they're chest to chest again

"I wouldn't be able to live without you. If you told me to never touch you, I wouldn't lay a finger on you baby. Just as long as I can see you, be near you...fuck just hearing your voice would be fine-"

He sucks a breath in, one hand gripping Regulus' hip

"I might not survive it...but if that's what you want...I'd cut my hands off to keep that promise."

Their lips brush against one another, regulus let's out a sigh before kissing James with all the overwhelming, all consuming feelings inside of him. James responds in kind, his hands gripping regulus and pulling him closer, closer,closer as if to weld them together. To have their body stuck together irreversibly.

Neither would mind, some days Regulus is sure he'd let James consume him entirely, pretending as if he hadn't already. They were both willing to do whatever the other wanted, willing to follow one another to the ends of the universe. Destined to intertwine and connect, to never be separated. It would be unkind, would be cruel to rip regulus away from James, to take away the very air he breathes. He would not survive it, Regulus would not live in a world where James wasn't his and vice versa.

94 notes · View notes

withleeknow · 11 hours

Text

genre/warnings: friends with benefits au. pwp. smut right under the cut. minors dni.

note: yeah i don't even remember what i thought about yesterday that made me do this. i was possessed. i always wanna set myself on fire after i post smut bye don't perceive me

main masterlist / blurb masterlist / ko-fi

hyunjin, who knows exactly how to make you feel better after a long and tiring day. you'd called him right as you clocked out at work, not having even left the office building when you were dialing his number impatiently, demanding asking him to meet you at your place in thirty minutes.

hyunjin, who's already standing by your front door with a cocky smile you arrive home. but you're too strung out today to indulge in pleasantries with him. you both know what you're not here to exchange small talk. sometimes, he calls you to help him deal with his stress and frustrations. today, it's you who's in need of his assistance.

hyunjin, who's got you pressed against the wall about half a minute after you unlock the door and usher the both of you inside. "want me to make you forget?" he tilts his head, a shadow of a smirk in his voice and yet, there's something so gentle in the way he asks for your confirmation.

hyunjin, who drops to his knees the second you give him the green light, glancing up at you with mischievous eyes before he gets to work. your pants are off in no time, though he opts to leave your panties on as he nudges his nose against the fabric, flicks his tongue over the wet patch on the cotton where he knows your clit is.

hyunjin, who gives you your first orgasm of the night just like that, licking you through the layer separating you and him, making you cream your panties in mere minutes while you try to hold yourself up against the wall, your fingers weaved through his hair to push his face closer to your core.

hyunjin, who discards your soaked underwear soon after, spreading your legs further open and diving in until his tongue makes direct contact with you, trailing his way from your entrance to your clit, cleaning you up just to make you messy again.

hyunjin, whose skilled fingers join the fun, slipping inside of you with ease while his tongue never relents. he relishes in every sound you make, every whimper and broken moan, the way your thighs shake around his head and the clench of your velvety walls around his digits when he hits your sweet spot.

hyunjin, who's practically an expert on everything you like. he knows every button to push, knows how to curl his fingers to get you to make a very particular sound that he likes. knows how to bring you to the edge and reel you back in and repeats the process a few times so the pleasure would be amplified tenfold for when you do come again. that's how he gets you to gush once, twice more for him, with his name tumbling out of your mouth like a fallen prayer.

hyunjin, who licks his fingers clean afterward, then rises to his feet and kissing you deeply with you still smeared all over his lips and coated on his tongue.

hyunjin, who carries you to your room like a proper gentleman, laying you gently on the bed as if he hadn't just given you three earth-shattering orgasms with his mouth and fingers alone.

hyunjin, who removes the rest of your clothes before he strips himself naked. you keep your legs open as you watch him eye you with lust-blown pupils, his hand wrapping around his hardened length. he stares at your core that's still glistening with your earlier release, biting his lip and slowly pumping his cock until it's heavy as a fucking rock and leaking at the tip.

hyunjin, who makes your eyes roll back in pure bliss when he pushes inside of you, bottoms out and immediately sets a steady pace. he knows you can take it and he knows you need it, so he rocks into you as hard as you beg him to, hard enough that the only coherent thing coming out of your mouth is hyune, hyune, hyune..., his name repeated on your lips like you're a broken record.

hyunjin, who holds off his own release just to make sure you get there first. he sucks on your nipples and flicks your clit just the way you like, all the while still thrusting into you until he feels you clench around his cock, your breathing becoming more and more ragged by the second, until your orgasm crests and you're crying out, your walls convulsing around him as your body shakes underneath him.

hyunjin, who fucks you through your high and then some. when you whine from the overstimulation, he pulls out and shuffles up the bed, moving over your form until his tip is pressed against your lip. "open," he says, and you do exactly that, albeit a little lazily being fucked to heaven and back again. he slides further into the warmth of your mouth before his hips starting thrusting shallowly.

hyunjin, who throws his head back in utter euphoria as you suck him off. it doesn't take long before he's coming undone, shooting ropes of warm cum right down your throat, and you happily swallow all of it despite the way your eyes brim with tears upon reflex.

hyunjin, who collapses next to you on the bed after you've milked him for all that he's worth. when you turn to him, wearing a fucked-out smile and thanking him for tonight, he only rolls closer and throws an arm over your waist, "glad to be of service."

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #hyunjin smut #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin x you #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x you #stray kids #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #blurbs

131 notes · View notes

lilgirl-cumslut · 2 days

Text

Daddy took me on vacation after mom left. He was always so caring towards me. So when he told me I didn’t need my swimsuit for the beach I trusted him.

When we got there, everyone else was naked. It was a nude beach, daddy said as he started to undress. Reluctantly, I undress too. If everyone else is doing it, I should to. Daddy wouldn’t steer me wrong.

Daddy laid out the beach towel and sat down, pulling me into his lap. His cock pushed right into my opening. He groaned softly.

“Daddy… something’s poking me. It’s uncomfortable…” I whine.

“Just sit still, princess. It’ll feel better soon.”

“Okay, Daddy.” I pout.

He moves a little and it slips in deeper, pressed against my hymen. I start to squirm. “Daddy…”

“Shhh… baby girl. Stay still. Let me move or you’re gonna…”

As he said that I shifted and my weight caused his cock to go right in, ripping through my hymen suddenly.

I open my mouth to cry out but daddy’s hand covers it quickly. Tears sting my eyes and he holds me in place for a moment. Then he starts moving again. It burns but I can’t protest with daddy’s hand over my mouth. So I stay still, hoping daddy was right about it feeling better soon.

An older man? About daddy’s age walks by and gives him the thumbs up as daddy is slowly moving in and out of me. My cheeks get bright red, but daddy keeps moving inside of me.

“Mmm… lay down, princess. I want to go deeper.”

I whimper as I lay down for daddy and he shifts me to my belly, closing my legs as daddy straddlesthem.

“Daddy… why are you doing this?” I ask softly, not wanting to attract attention.

“Since your mother has been gone there’s been no one to take care of her wifely duties. You look so much like your mother at your age, I… just need the release.” Daddy pushes his cock into me again and I grip the towel.

He thrusts harder and I can still feel a lot of burning pain, but it’s also starting to feel good. The more he thrusts, the hornier I get.

Finally, daddy is thrusting deep inside of me and I’m moaning softly. I’m trying to hide my face as I can tell that we’ve started to gather a small audience. All I can see is feet though.

Daddy grunts louder with each thrust, getting close. He leans over me and whispers in my ear.

“Mmm.. princess, I’m about to cum. And just like your mother, I’m going to fill your virgin pussy with so much cum you’ll have to carry my child.”

I whimper pitifully, but daddy doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he thrusts into me hard over and over again until he cums inside me. My pussy is throbbing but I haven’t cum yet. I reach down to try and play with my princess parts but he slaps my hand away.

“Roll over, princess. If you spread your legs I’m sure one of these fine gentlemen can make you cum.” He said, then he stood.

“Who wants a go?” He asked. “$100 to fuck her. $50 more to cum inside her pussy.”

A fat, Hispanic man walks up and hands daddy a hundred dollars. “Thank you, sir. She’s all yours.”

—

It was a long day at the beach, but daddy said if I keep it up we could pay for college by the end of the summer.

#free use cnc #cnc daddy #r4p3 m3 #1cky daddy #daddy's good girl #daddy’s babygirl #submisive and breedable #fauxc3st #g@ng r@pe #cnc drugging

115 notes · View notes

bloodylullaby · 3 days

Text

Pairing: Noah x Reader

Word Count: 1886

MasterList

Author's Note: A continuation of If You're There ALSO - Let me know how you like this; I've been battling whether to keep doing cute things like this (I don't see as many cute things) or try to branch out to other things.

It’s finally happened. Noah finally realized that he was extremely burnt out and running on fumes, which led him to cancel his highly anticipated European tour. You had seen this coming for months but couldn’t convince him to take time for himself due to his relentless work ethic and a one-track mind. Despite your best efforts, his hard-working drive kept him pushing forward until he could no longer ignore the exhaustion.

Even though Noah is finally home, you haven’t seen him for a couple of weeks and have barely heard from him, which is unusual and increasingly concerning. You start to worry more and more, as you have never seen him in such a state before. His silence and isolation are alarming, making you realize just how serious his condition might be. With all the times Noah has gone out of his way to help you out of a rut, you know deep down that it's time to return the favor and be there for him. Today, you decide that you are going to go over to his house and show him so much love and support that he has no choice but to get better. You are determined to help him through this challenging period with your unwavering presence and care.

You pack two giant tote bags of things you know he enjoys, hoping to lift his spirits. One of the bags is stuffed with his favorite sweets, treats, and drinks, from gourmet chocolates and artisanal cookies to his preferred craft soda brand. You even include a few savory snacks that he always raves about. The other bag is filled with items that hold personal significance, things of yours that you know will help him feel more comfortable and connected. Among these is the stuffed animal he won for you at a carnival last summer, a cherished memento of happier times. You spray your signature scent on it, ensuring it carries the comforting fragrance that reminds him of you. Additionally, you include a cozy blanket you've often shared on movie nights and a couple of your favorite books he has shown interest in. You hope these familiar items will create a sense of warmth and closeness, even in your physical absence.

On your way to his house, you stop by the store and pick up a video game that he’s been wanting but has always been too busy to grab and play. Once you secure it, you continue to his house, hoping this small gesture will brighten his day. When you walk up to the house, you are greeted by Nicholas with a warm smile. He steps aside and lets you in, welcoming you with a friendly, reassuring nod. As you go to Noah’s room, you exchange greetings with the others in the house, receiving sympathetic looks and encouraging words. The familiar surroundings and friendly faces bolster your resolve as you approach Noah’s door, ready to offer him the comfort and support he desperately needs.

With a gentle knock, you enter his room and are greeted by a messy space, clothes strewn about, and empty bottles scattered on the floor. Closing the door behind you, you step further into the room, spotting Noah lying in bed, his hair gently poking out from the cocoon he has rolled himself into. You carefully set everything down by his gaming chair, ensuring not to make too much noise. Quietly, you walk over to his bed and gently sit on the edge next to him, trying not to cause too much of a stir as the bed dips under your weight. You rake your fingers through his hair, feeling the softness under your touch, and he begins to stir slightly, a faint sign of awareness.

“Baby?” he murmurs slowly, sleep evident in his voice. You gently hum in response and watch as he slowly turns toward you. Your heart breaks a little when you see his face—heavy bags under his eyes and a look of brokenness that makes you want to cry. But you hold it together, giving him a small smile that he tries to return. Without warning, he pulls you down so that you are lying beside him, placing his head on your sternum and wrapping his arms tightly around your torso. You feel his grip, desperate and seeking comfort, and you instinctively wrap your arms around him, hoping to provide the solace he needs.

As you hear sniffling, your shirt starts to feel damp. You rub little circles on his back and let him cry, offering silent comfort. His body trembles with each sob, and you can feel the weight of his sorrow pressing against you. “Why am I like this?” he asks, his voice cracking with pain and confusion. Your heart shatters at his words, the anguish in his question tearing at your soul. You hold him tighter, wishing you could somehow absorb his hurt and make it disappear.

"It's okay, baby," you whisper, your voice soothing and steady. "Everyone goes through tough times. It's not your fault." You continue to rub his back, the repetitive motion a small but comforting gesture. His grip on you tightens as if he's afraid you'll vanish if he lets go. "You're not alone," you murmur, kissing the top of his head. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

He cries harder, the dam of his emotions entirely breaking, and you can feel the full force of his despair. You just hold him, knowing that sometimes words aren't enough, and the best thing you can do is be there, offering your unwavering support and love. "We'll get through this together," you promise, your voice filled with conviction. "One step at a time."

As time passed, his sobs lessened, gradually becoming soft sniffles. You continued to hold him, your fingers gently caressing his back, until he finally calmed down. Once he was done crying, he lifted his head and looked at you with red, tear-stained eyes. “I love you to the moon and back,” he murmured, his voice tender and filled with emotion.

You leaned down and gently kissed him, pouring all your love and reassurance into that moment. "I love you more than anything," you whispered back, your words a heartfelt promise. He nestled back into your arms, and you stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s warmth, both finding solace in the shared silence.

“What’s in the bags?” he asked, his curiosity piqued, causing you to giggle.

"I brought you some surprises," you say with a smile. You gently extricate yourself from his embrace and reach over to the bags you had placed by his gaming chair. "One of these is full of your favorite sweets, treats, and drinks," you explain, pulling out a bag of his favorite candies and a bottle of his preferred soda. "I know how much you love these."

He watches with a faint smile as you continue. "And in this bag," you say, lifting the second tote, "are some things to make you feel more comfortable." You pull out the stuffed animal he won for you at the carnival, now freshly sprayed with your signature scent. "I thought this might help you feel a little better," you say, handing it to him.

You also pull out a cozy blanket and two books you love. "And I made a stop on the way here," you add, pulling out the video game he's been wanting. His eyes widened in surprise.

"Thank you," he whispers, his voice filled with emotion. "You always know how to make things better."

You smile and give him another kiss. "That's what I'm here for," you say softly. He sits up entirely and stretches, the tension in his body starting to ease. Getting up, he pulls you into a warm hug, murmuring sweet nothings into your ear, his breath tickling your skin.

Eventually, Noah lets go and turns his attention to the bags. With a newfound energy, he starts pulling everything out, his eyes lighting up with each item. "This is amazing," he says, a genuine smile spreading across his face as he inspects the sweets, treats, and stuffed animals.

When he gets to the video game, his excitement is palpable. "I can't believe you got this!" he exclaims, looking at you with gratitude and joy. "This is exactly what I needed."

You smile, feeling a warmth in your heart at seeing him so happy. "I thought we could have a fun-filled night," you say. "We can play the game, eat some snacks, and relax together."

Noah nods eagerly, his earlier sadness starting to fade. "That sounds perfect," he says, and you can see the spark of his old self returning.

As he sets up the game, you both make yourselves comfortable on his bed, surrounded by the remnants of the snacks you brought. After a little while of playing together, you decide to take a break and opt to watch him for a while. Grabbing the blanket you brought over, you drape it over yourselves for extra coziness. You also grab one of the books from the bag, intending to take turns between reading and watching him play. As he navigates through the game, you find yourself engrossed in the story, occasionally glancing up to see his reactions to different challenges or victories.

You offer verbal support whenever he encounters challenging situations, your words of encouragement ringing out in the room, echoing his determination to overcome obstacles. When he finally manages to defeat a particularly demanding boss, you can't help but join in his celebration, the room filled with shared laughter and triumphant cheers as you revel in his success together.

As the night wears on and the hour grows later, Noah decides to take a break from gaming and suggests transitioning to a movie instead. With a smile, he guides you to the bed, where you both settle in comfortably amidst the plush blankets and pillows, sinking into a cocoon of warmth and relaxation. Noah orders a pizza, ensuring it's topped with all your favorite ingredients, and arranges an array of snacks and drinks within arm's reach, creating a cozy haven for the two of you to enjoy. The room is enveloped in the comforting aroma of freshly baked pizza, and the soft glow of the screen casts a warm light as you snuggle up together.

Observing Noah's mood shifting more positively fills your heart with relief and happiness. The weight of his earlier struggles seems to dissipate, replaced by a lightness and ease that brings a genuine smile to both your faces. In this moment, surrounded by superficial pleasures and each other's company, you find solace in the shared moments of peace and contentment. As the movie plays softly in the background, you both sink deeper into the comfort of the bed, the warmth of each other's presence enveloping you like a gentle embrace. The worries and stresses of the outside world fade away, leaving only the tranquility of the present moment.

Eventually, the day's fatigue catches up with you both, and you find yourselves drifting off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms. The soft rhythm of your breathing syncs harmoniously, creating a symphony of peace that washes over you both, carrying you into a restful slumber filled with nothing but serenity and love.

#bad omens band #noah sebastian #bad omens #noah sebastian davis #bad omens fic #bad omens fanfiction #fanfic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #bad omens fluff #noah sebastian x you #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fluff #fluff #bad omens cult

70 notes · View notes

kittenintheden · 1 day

Text

hit the bricks

surprise PWP drop lol. this is sort of a deleted scene from Not Your Sweetheart. this is not a scenario that will end up in the NYS so you get to have it here in bite-size instead. enjoy!

Rating: E Paring: Astarion/Ori (f!Tav) Word Count: 1.6k Content: 18+, established relationship, semi-public sex, quickie, wall sex, Ori being a bit of a power bottom

Link to AO3

This stakeout is horrifically boring and likely entirely pointless.

Astarion leans with his back against one side of a narrow alley, arms folded. Ori faces the opposite wall, peeking her head around the corner every now and again to try and spot their quarry.

He sighs.

She continues to look.

“This stakeout is horrifically boring,” he voices aloud. “And likely entirely pointless.”

From further down the alleyway, Elias chimes in. “We’d feel real stupid if they managed to sneak by us, though, wouldn’t we?”

Astarion rolls his eyes as hard as he possibly can and glares at them. They smirk at him, knowing full well where his annoyance comes from. He’s certain of it. When he’d volunteered to pair with Ori for this reconnaissance mission, he hadn’t expected a third wheel. But Gale had insisted that they keep an open method of communication just in case, and, well. Elias is as convenient as it gets, considering they can move from group to group through the Ethereal Plane in seconds.

Whether or not they prefer to be used as de facto communication is yet to be determined.

It’s a bother. He maintains his irritated expression as he goes back to staring at Ori’s arse as she wriggles it back and forth between glances out of the alley. She might be doing it on purpose. The breeches she’s chosen to wear this evening are quite form-fitting.

His brow smooths and his eyes go lidded as he lets himself fall into fantasy, picturing her just like this, but all soft skin, warm and gray beneath his touch as he runs his fingers down the length of her spine. He hasn’t taken her from behind yet. All in good time.

Astarion slow blinks and flicks his tongue over his bottom lip.

Now could be a good time.

He’s brought abruptly back to reality as arousal rises in him, sending a rush of heat between his legs. He huffs and shifts position, straightening one leg with a grimace. Fantastic. Now he’s grouchy again.

Their corner of the square remains unpopulated. At this time of evening in this part of town, passerby are few and far between. He scans the space sullenly for a moment before his eyes are drawn back to Ori. She stands straight, still facing the wall, and puts her arms over her head in a long, arching stretch.

Astarion tucks his chin. That’s definitely on purpose.

“Elias,” Astarion says. “I think perhaps you should go check in on the other team.”

“What for?” they say distractedly, their eyes currently tracking a stray cat at the far end. “Nothing’s happening.”

“Something’s about to,” he says lowly. Then he pushes off the wall and closes the space between his body and Ori’s, pinning her up against the bricks on the opposite wall. She squeaks in surprise.

“Oh, for fuck’s-” is all they hear before Elias’ voice cuts itself off as they vanish.

Ori’s laughing, now. She turns her head to one side and puts her palms against the wall in front of her, pushing gently back against Astarion. He puts his mouth to the side of her neck, running his tongue over her pulse point and punctuating it with a kiss.

“What was that about?” she teases, even as she shivers and shuts her eyes.

“I needed to ask you something.” He places another kiss to her neck, this time closer to her ear.

“Mm. And what’s that?” She stretches her head to one side to give him more access.

Astarion puts his lips to her ear and whispers, “How wet are you?”

She gives a quiet giggle, her mouth stretching in a playful smile as she cracks her eyes to look at him.

“Wet enough,” she whispers back.

That’s all the go-ahead he needs before his hands are at the front of her trousers, undoing her fastenings quicker than she’d be able to herself. As soon as he’s able, he dips a hand down her front and into her smallclothes.

His fingers find her slick and he huffs out a breath, dropping his open mouth to the spot where her shoulder meets her neck. He slides his fingers against her and she gives a controlled moan when he finds the swell of her.

“You’re always so ready for me,” Astarion groans into her skin. “It drives me mad.”

Ori hiccups and responds, “If you knew how good it is to take your cock, you’d be walking around wet all the time, too. But we’re supposed to be, ah, keeping a lookout. Someone could… mmm… catch us with our literal pants down.”

They’re not exactly in public, but they’re not exactly not in public, either. Being quiet may not be an option. Does he care?

Not at the moment.

Astarion stops teasing her clit long enough to push her clothing down past her hips. As he goes to deal with his own ties, he breathes, “Then they’ll get a show, because you know anyone about to stumble on this would have no choice but to watch.”

She answers with a quiet growl and play-bites at him.

“Ah, ah,” he says as he pulls himself free of his trousers. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

“Disappointing,” she teases.

He presses his hard cock between her legs, causing her to gasp and arch as he draws himself along her slick cunt and grazes her clit. Her thighs are trapped tight together from her breeches, coating him in her wet as he grinds.

“I said quick,” he says, hiding the shake in his voice with a laugh. “I didn’t say disappointing.”

The head of his cock finds her willing entrance and he pushes inside, the slide smooth, but oh, he didn’t think that through, that’s very-

Ori clocks the way he tries to quiet the moan that spills from him as he enters her. She clocks it even as she leans her head onto his shoulder, arching her back as hard as she can with him pressing her to the wall. The glide and stretch are perfect. She can feel him everywhere.

But he’s not moving.

“What’s wrong, beautiful?” she says, voice shivering.

Astarion has been clenching his jaw. She can feel him loosen it as he says, “You are so t-tight like this.”

She grins, holding back her laugh. “Did you…?”

“No,” he huffs, wrapping his hand around hers where it’s pressed against the brick. “Give a professional a little credit, dear. I just, ah, needed a moment.”

“Glad to hear-” she starts.

“Moment’s over,” he interrupts.

His hips begin working with short, shallow thrusts, grinding Ori up against the wall, her front pressed to the masonry, and she pants prettily for him as he ignites the fire between them. He keeps one hand over hers on the wall and the other wrapped around her hip, guiding her in time with his rhythm.

She feels exquisite. He presses his lips to her exposed shoulder and sucks, vaguely aware he’ll leave a mark there, but he doesn’t care, because it feels good this feels good she feels good all around him. Fangs graze skin, tempting. Her arse is so plush pressed close.

He moves the hand on her hip around to her front and between her legs, using his fingers to spread her just a little wider, exposing her to better feel the root of him on her clit every time he thrusts into her. It has the intended effect as she whimpers out his name surrounded on all sides by soft ah ah ahs. Gods, it’s hot.

Taking her here, hidden but not invisible, makes the rush of being discovered hit his blood and urgency pulses through his core. He pulls his mouth from her and pants through his teeth, molten heat coiling around the base of his spine.

“I need you to come for me, darling,” he whispers. “Can you do that? Can you come for me? Don’t let me…” He gasps on the next breath and continues, “... embarrass myself, love.”

“Say please,” she breathes with a surprising amount of control given her current position.

“What?” he blurts, brow furrowed as he continues to rut into her. His body wants to come so badly that it’s making thought beyond gods gods fuck yes gods difficult.

Ori groans this time before she repeats, “Say. Please.”

Astarion presses his mouth to the side of her face and says, “Please, please, come, please come, please, love, love, please, come, come-”

She clenches down hard around him and he whines, barely managing to ride out her climax before he hits his own, the flutters of her peak continuing all around him. Ori bites her own forearm, her cry lost against her skin. Astarion does his best to stifle his inelegant grunts as he spends himself inside her, the relief palpable.

They take a moment before Ori mumbles, “Neither of us really considered how to extricate ourselves from this situation, did we?”

“We did not,” Astarion mumbles back with his mouth against her temple.

There’s another beat of quiet.

From around the corner out of view, they hear Elias say, “The mark is here, you’d better be done, I swear, I’m not coming around there. Let’s go.”

The mad scramble to separate and quickly rearrange clothing goes smoother than expected, all things considered. It isn’t until they pick up their things and make to run for the square that Ori pulls a face.

“All right, love?” Astarion asks, dagger already drawn.

“Yeah,” she says. “I’ll, erm. Deal with it later.”

She speeds by him and it takes him a full second to catch on before he snorts out a laugh and follows her.

#astarion smut #astarion fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x tav #astarion x oc #kitten writes #not your sweetheart

113 notes · View notes