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#youre a little nervous but you're confident. you deserve this
g0at0ad · 2 months
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biting clawing screaming crying desperate for more content about the lovely terrible mother-son relationship between Janeway and Kim. it's SO unhealthy I love it
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mypoisonedvine · 9 months
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𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 || dark!jonathan crane x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || since you're the only one of his coworkers at arkham who doesn't seem to be intimidated by his intelligence, jonathan decides it's time he finds out what does scare you... and how he can embody it. unfortunately for you, turning into your greatest nightmare doesn't prove very difficult for him.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 5.5k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || EXTREME AND EXPLICIT NONCON (18+ only and please proceed with caution), drugging and kidnapping, paralysis, traumatized reader, forced orgasms/overstimulation, degradation, humiliation, choking, slapping, unprotected sex/breeding, misogyny, jonathan is very much in character which means he is incredibly evil and has incel vibes (I know y'all are not about to get mad at me for writing a villain being a villain and not uwu babifying him...)
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When you interrupted and corrected your colleague, Dr. Crane, about the correct combination of pharmaceuticals for a certain schizophrenic patient in the asylum who happened to have diabetes, you thought nothing of it.  After all, the whole point of staff meetings was to discuss and debate these things, and you weren’t about to let him damn-near poison a patient by giving him something that would interfere with his insulin.  You weren’t trying to be snarky about it, but you did sort of make a joke about how dangerous his suggestion was— and you didn’t notice the way Jonathan’s nostrils flared and jaw tightened when some others chuckled at what you said.
When you received an email from your therapist’s office informing you that there was evidence of a break-in in her building, but that the police were unable to officially determine if confidential client files were compromised, you thought nothing of it.  It was a big complex, these things happen, and you knew from being a clinician yourself how tricky the laws could be surrounding that stuff: she had to email you, legally, if there was any chance your file could’ve been accessed, and that didn’t mean you had any reason to fear your private therapy session notes had been read.  Besides, who would want to read about you and your boring life, diving into your mundane hopes and fears and daily stresses?
And when Crane came into the office with tea for you, you thought nothing of it.  Sure, you seemed surprised when he popped into your office with cups in hand— you asked him why he had two cups of tea, assuming they were both for himself, and he laughed.  Just that was out of character, he wasn’t much of a chucklehead or anything.  “Green tea, right?  With lime and honey?” he asked, setting one cup down for you.  You were still taken aback, but you had to admit defeat.
“Yeah,” you said, taking the cup as he sat down across the desk from you.  “Yeah, that’s my order— I didn’t know you drank tea.”
“Sometimes,” he informed you, hoping his poker face was holding up as he watched you take a sip.  He couldn’t help but stare at your lips wrapping around the little hole in the lid, the print of berry-red your lipstick left behind.  His heart was racing already, more than he expected.
When you finished the first sip, you smiled at him and let out a small, nervous laugh.  “Thank you,” you finally said.  So, yes, even though you clearly noticed this was slightly odd behavior, you thought nothing of drinking the tea.  That was one thing he hated about you: the thoughtlessness.  You didn’t seem to second-guess yourself much, if anything you were a little on the cocky side.  He found it so irritating— that confidence.  Sure, you were smart and you deserved to take yourself somewhat seriously, but the way you walked around this place— the way you ignored him so easily, or spoke over him if you wanted to, or ignored his suggestions when he gave them… you were a bitch, basically.  You clearly thought you were better than him— better than everybody else— for no reason at all.  Just because you were pretty and had a good job you thought you could get away with anything, surely; pretty girls always think that way.
He made casual conversation with you as you sipped the tea, asking questions he already knew the answer to, hoping to catch you in a lie.  For the most part, your stories matched up with what he’d learned from that file.  But, you left out the gory details— you left out the best parts, really.
You mentioned where you went to medical school and that you transferred mid-way through due to ‘stress’, but you didn’t elaborate on what really happened to you.  You mentioned having your own therapist— something you said passionately that every client-facing mental health professional should have— but left out what you were actually being treated for, not to mention the PTSD diagnosis.
He had to hide his smirk behind the paper cup every time you seemed to lose your train of thought— it wasn’t like you, so focused and determined all the time.  No, it was the drugs finally kicking in.  You went for bigger gulps of tea each time your eyes looked heavier, hoping the caffeine would work— but the trace caffeine in your green tea was nothing compared to what he’d added.
You tried to warn him that you were suddenly not feel up to par— that he needed to leave, and you might try to wake yourself up— but he just sat and waited.  He watched you try to get up, and lose your balance.  He watched you stumble, trip, and ultimately fall onto the floor limply.  He watched your eyes flutter shut and the final ounce of energy to fight it fade; he quietly took a final sip of his tea.
~
You woke up on the floor.  You could barely feel it beneath you, but you knew it was the floor— it was cold, and hard.  And you were looking up at the dark ceiling, at the fan spinning at the lowest speed; so you were definitely on the floor.
Jonathan was standing above you, not too far off, flipping through papers.  You couldn’t move— no matter how hard you fought to, you couldn’t.  You barely managed to turn your head, but it felt more like it rolled to the side on its own.  You tried to yell for Dr. Crane’s attention, for help, for him to explain what happened to you, but even your mouth couldn’t move.  The best you could do was breathe harder— actually, you were pretty sure your body was trying to hyperventilate, but you were too incapacitated to even have a proper panic attack.
He heard you, though; he looked away from the papers and grinned down at you.  “Comfortable down there?”
You started to put together a few things.  One, that the last thing you remembered was being in your office, and now you were in your apartment.  Two, that those papers were photoscans of chart notes— obviously you couldn’t make out the words from here, but the format gave away that it must have to do with a patient.
And three, that Crane was neither surprised that you were paralyzed on the floor, nor interested in helping you.
He half-rolled the papers in one hand and playfully hit the other hand’s palm with them.  “These have been quite interesting… revealing, to say the least,” he informed you, like it was a compliment— something you should be proud to hear.  “You’re quite the enigma, Doc!”
He sat down beside you on the floor, leaning on his hand first to find his balance with a little sigh; he seemed amused, actually, and your heart began to race.
As he started to read aloud from the page in front of him, you felt nauseous.  He was reading patient data, describing a client who was receiving individual counseling— or that’s what the CPT code indicated, at least.  As he listed the client’s demographic data— age, race, gender, height, weight— it became eerily obvious what he was doing.  You refused to believe it until he went on: “Client was recommended to Dr. Min Zhang for individual therapy concerning PTSD following sexual trauma.”
Your therapist.  This was a file he’d copied, which belonged to your therapist.  And it was obvious whose file it was.
As you tried with all your might to scream, Jonathan flipped a few pages ahead.
“Session fourteen, eleventh of June,” he continued.  “Client expressed frustration with an increased recurrence of nightmares and flashbacks to her assault.  Up until now, she has struggled to explain what triggers her anxiety without having to actually elaborate on the circumstances of the event.”
He stopped, but you weren’t exactly relieved.  In fact, you were horrified.  He had a little grin on his face when he looked at you, but you could finally see the rage in his eyes.  Suddenly, you realized how long it had been there.  You had sort of picked up on it before, the resentment he had towards you— and it didn’t take a Freudian expert to figure out that he was threatened by you, especially as a man.  He didn’t respond well to feeling upstaged and he clearly had an issue with women.  Maybe not that issue— he was good-looking and well-off, he didn’t need to have any issues with women if he didn’t want to— but an issue nonetheless.  
“Now,” he added, smiling wider than you’d ever seen him smile before, “client states she is ready to describe the incident in full detail.”
He set the papers aside for a second, leaning over you and almost looking… giddy, really.
“I won’t read you the rest, I’ve already pretty much memorized what goes on from there.  It was fascinating— seeing how what happened that night connected to the fears you still have today… the nightmares.  You said that you still feel sick at the smell of alcohol, you still don’t like to wear pinstripe skirts, and even just the wrong few words can make you feel like you’re right back there where it happened— on the floor of your apartment.”
All you could do was look up at him, and you felt your eyes get hot as they welled with tears.
“Not this apartment, obviously— the one by your old school,” Jonathan sighed, “but this will have to do.  And the smell of alcohol, well, I wouldn’t want to let anything cloud my experience— but I dabbed a little gin on my wrists, what do you think?”
He held his hand up by your face, caressing your cheek for a second, and you imagined yourself pulling away— turning your head and shrugging his touch off of you with a grimace.  But nothing happened, of course, and you were entirely helpless as the acidic stench of liquor became apparent.  You couldn’t give your typical outward reaction of a frown, but inside, you felt just the same as always: your stomach twisted, your heart pounded, your head swirled.
“Smell is such a… primal trigger of memory, isn’t it?” he mused, watching your face reverently.  “I can see it in your eyes, it’s affecting you even more than I expected.  You act so fearless at work— but I knew you must have been overcompensating.  God, you’re terrified— I would say you’re paralyzed, but, well… it would be too literal, I think.”
You knew that Crane studied fear and phobias, even trauma occasionally, as a personal interest within the field.  It was normal to have a favorite subtopic, and to conduct related research on it— but obviously, this was far from normal, this was absolutely deranged.  You knew that part of this was vengeance, in his own mind at least, but you didn't feel like you'd done anything actually wrong to him.  And the rest of it, well, it seemed like some twisted experiment, but if you were able to speak you would've tried to remind him that this 'research' wasn't going to get him published or advance his career— but of course, that wasn't what he wanted.  He just wanted to humiliate you.
“I was worried I didn’t have enough to work with, you know,” he added.  “I knew I couldn’t get you to where it happened, if I could even figure it out since you never filed that police report… and the skirt, well, I considered it.  It sounded pretty exciting to dress you up like the night it happened— what I would give to know everything you were wearing that night, but I don’t have a ton to work with.  Obviously, you don’t own any pinstripe skirts anymore, so I would’ve had to buy one… and I wasn’t quite ready for the looks I’d get shopping at Macy’s, so…”
Carefully, he reached up to take off his glasses, folding them and setting them down on your coffee table.
“You know how detail-oriented I am— I mean, I went to all this, didn’t I?” He continued, reaching down and brushing his fingers for a moment over your leg.  It was so instinctive to pull away that it took you a moment to realize you hadn’t… because of course, you couldn’t.  “But it’s impossible to recreate it all perfectly.  Clearly, I don’t need to— if only you could see it, Doc, you look… you look so weak.  Pathetic.”
Since the only thing you could do was look around, you tried to look away— to not give him the satisfaction of seeing the terror in your eyes.  He grabbed your face and turned it until you looked up at him.  
“Did you think you’d be able to face your greatest fear?  Perhaps with a bit more dignity?” he mused.  He looked different without the glasses on; and, ironically, you felt like he could see you even better now.
It was obvious that he enjoyed lording complete power over you, but a quick glance down to his suit trousers made it clear just how much he enjoyed it.  You quickly darted your gaze away, but it was too late; he started to climb on top of you, staring at your face uncomfortably close, and worked on opening his belt and fly.
“Fear rules us all, doesn’t it?  Everything you did, it was guided by your fear that it would— well, why paraphrase?  Let me find exactly how you put it…”
He picked up the papers again quickly, licking his thumb and flipping around until he found the right entry.
“Yes,” he said, “here it is: client states she lives in almost constant fear that it will happen again.”
So that's what this was: his disturbed take on exposure therapy.
As he tossed the copied charts away for the last time and reached up under your skirt, he leaned down and whispered in your ear— and you couldn’t even flinch from the harsh sounds of his words.  “It took you over fifty sessions to admit it,” he recalled, “to tell her the whole truth.  Not just what he did to you… what you did.”
With a small growl, he yanked your panties down your legs and rubbed your thighs with far too much aggression, such that you expected bruises from his hands— just like the ones you’d had before.
“You said he made you do it,” he continued, “you couldn’t help it, right?  But you said nothing’s ever felt like that— that you’d never had such a powerful orgasm.”
You would’ve vomited, except that that, too, requires your muscles to not be paralyzed.  Rolling your skirt up and spreading your legs, he positioned himself right between them, rubbing his cock's leaking head around your hole.
“Your greatest fear isn’t really that it’ll happen again, is it?” Jonathan taunted.  “You’re afraid someone’s going to find out how much you liked it.”
With that, he punched his hips forward and speared you on his cock.
It had been years since you'd had anything inside you, even your own fingers.  You couldn't even remember if being penetrated hurt like this during your assault, and you would've sworn before that you remembered every detail perfectly.  But this was so real, not a memory or a nightmare.  You couldn't cry out from the sting.
"God, it's tight," he groaned, "I bet you weren't this tight when it happened— you'd been whoring around, hadn't you?  Letting all kinds of guys use you… just ran into the wrong one and got your drink spiked.  But now…"
He hissed through his teeth, tightening his grip on your hip.  
"Now it's all mine, isn't it?"
Inside, you were screaming and kicking and pleading for mercy.  You imagined you would be angry and violent, beat him to death with your heel or something, but you wondered if you'd be forced to bargain with him— apologize for whatever you did to upset him, promise you wouldn't tell a soul about this as long as he left you alone.  But either way, it didn't matter… on the outside, you were useless, laying there and letting him use you.
"What made you come so much before?  Did he have a big cock, is that it?” he asked with a snarl.  “Did he know exactly how to touch you?  Or was it just that you’d been craving it, needed it really rough to get off properly?  Is that why you came while he raped you?”
It was a biological response, you told yourself like you had over and over, I couldn't help it, it wasn't my fault, it was a biological response— it wasn't my fault, I didn't like it, it was a biological response.
“I think I know what it is,” he mused, looking down at you with heavy eyes and almost purring as he watched your limp form bounce on the floor.  “I think you wanted to be put in your place.  You act so liberated, so empowered— but you’re a creature of instinct, like anything else.  You need someone to remind you how weak you are, I know, fuck, I know you do…”
He fucked you just a bit faster, grunting and tightening his fist on the floor by your head.
“You haven’t been able to have an orgasm at all, since then,” he stated— almost making it like a question, with the way he said it, but he obviously already knew it was true.  He sounded shockingly sympathetic— not even pitying, not condescending, for once.  “I’m sure for a while you didn’t even try, afraid it would remind you— but that’s the thing, you can’t finish unless you’re reminded.”
You almost surprised yourself when you heard a whine come from your throat; he smiled proudly.
"It's wearing off, I think," he noticed.  "I only gave you a small dose.  Can you move at all?  Can you beg me to stop?"
You opened your mouth to try to say everything you'd wanted to since you awoke, but all that came out was a moan.  You hated yourself for that, and he laughed happily.
"You don't want me to stop," he decided.  "Feels too good?"
I fucking hate you, you wanted to scream, you sick son of a bitch, I fucking hate you—
"You didn't say it outright, but he must have said something to you— during, maybe after," Jonathan theorized.  "You didn't say what it was, but you told your therapist about having a vivid flashback after being accosted by a delusional homeless man on the street.  He called you a bitch, seemingly for no reason… is that what your rapist said to you?  Did he say you were a stuck-up little bitch?"
As burning hot tears striped your temples, you curled your fingers over and over— maybe you could move your arms if you really tried…
"He was fucking right about you.  You think you're so much fucking better than everyone else," he growled.  "You think you're so fucking smart, and special.  But you're no fucking different, you're nothing—"
You whined and reached up, weakly trying to push him off of you, but all you could do was limply grasp at his shoulders.
"Nothing but a stupid—" he grunted the word as he slammed himself into you— "fucking—" he did it again— "bitch."
"No!" you finally heard yourself sob, clutching a weak fistful of his white shirt, but he grabbed your hands and shoved them back down to the floor.
“God,” he choked, holding your wrists tightly until you whined, “it’s so much better when you can fight— fuck, it’s so much better.  Keep struggling if you want, Doc, you’re still too weak for me…”
Your legs moved a little, but they felt heavy.  Sensation was only just beginning to return to them, like pins and needles, and it stung; you winced as you managed to squirm a bit beneath him.
"That's it," he praised, "this is probably just how you did it before.  Too drunk and too desperate for cock to really do much, but trying so hard to look like you hate it— I understand, you don't want anyone to know that you need this.  They'd never look at you the same again: the smart, accomplished psychiatrist who likes getting treated like fuckmeat.  What would they think of you if they knew?"
"No…" you said again, too weak and traumatized to say much else— but it wasn't what he said that made you say no, it was the pulse of pleasure inside your cunt.  He must have felt it, and if he didn't, he surely felt the next; yes, he did, because he smiled down at you excitedly.
"It's happening, isn't it?  You're gonna come."
He held on tight to one of your legs, gripping your thigh and staring uncomfortably into your eyes as he kept going— faster and rougher with each thrust.  You choked on your throat, trying to stop any part of this, but the pleasure was undeniable; it still hurt, yes, and you still felt so angry and sick and numb, but something familiar and desperate was tightening in your gut.  It’d been so long since anyone touched you… you’d forgotten how natural it could feel, even when it was so horrible.
"I read it in your file, but I still couldn't really believe it,” he laughed quietly, “I couldn't believe you came over and over while being raped— but here you are, wow, look at you… you’re so beautiful when you’re scared.”
A long, heavy sigh fell from your lips; your eyes got heavier, and your whole body seemed to relax— in a way totally different from the medication-induced paralysis.
He cooed at you, seeming oddly proud, and you were oddly compliant as he picked you up and pulled you into his lap.
Tears streamed across your cheeks as he held you close, one hand around your back while the other moved your hips against his.  “There you go— come for me, I wanna feel it— another one, baby, for me…”
It wasn’t much longer before another one came— from what you remembered, it was a lot like the first time, this terribly wonderful way your body protected itself from the trauma by immersing you in pleasure.  Of course, Jonathan helped you along by rubbing your clit with his thumb, excited to watch you surrender to ecstasy even when you begged him to just stop and leave you alone.
Of course, your protests were less and less believable as more of your strength and mobility returned— you could’ve tried harder to get away, but instead you found your hips rocking with his, your arms wrapping around his shoulders.  No, you didn’t want this— you never wanted this— but you found the way he spoke to you impossibly comforting even while it was still deeply upsetting.  “Tell me about the nightmares, darling,” he whispered— some impossible mix of pleading and ordering.
“A-almost every night,” you whimpered.  “I… I got used to it, but I used to… I used to wake up and think I was still…”
"They felt so real, hm?" he presumed, and you nodded.  “It’s real now… you don’t have to be afraid of the dreams anymore, it’s all real— I’m right here.”
You couldn’t tell if he was trying to scare or comfort you; he pet your hair, clinging to you tightly, kissing your face and neck along the lines of the tears soaking your skin.  
You felt his grin against your cheek when another wavering moan echoed in your chest, and he laid you back on the floor to hover over you again.  “Was that your third one, already?” he noticed.  “This is so much easier than I thought… you needed this so badly, you poor girl.”
A quick wave of panic settled over you when his hand wrapped around your neck.  “W-wait,” you pleaded instantly, as if you really feared he would just strangle you to death right then and there.  Your hands, still weak and tingly, reached up to his arm, and you felt his cock throb inside you— of course that was what he wanted, to see you react in fear again.  So many other emotions were at play right now, even some you didn’t know existed (like whatever the word would be for longing for the worst thing that’s ever happened to you, or feeling like the only person you can trust is the person hurting you the most), but fear was still going to rule it all as long as he had any say.
"How many times did you come before?" he demanded to know, nostrils flaring as he fucked you harder.  "Tell me how many times you came when he raped you."
"I— I don't—" you stammered.
"Say it," he ordered.
"I— I don't know!" you yelped, whimpers falling to silence as he tightened his grip on your neck. 
"You don't fucking know?" he snarled at you, watching you fight for air.  You clawed at his shirt, his wrist, tried to pry his fingers away, but he just sneered as he stared at your numbing face.  "You don't know how many times you creamed on your rapist's cock?  Bullshit."
"I—" you gasped when he let go of your throat, "I lost count…"
He went from livid to ecstatic in a second, laughing proudly and dipping down to kiss your neck passionately.  "Good girl," he mumbled against your skin, fucking you even faster.  "That's what you need to do for me now— come for me until you lose count."
“I— I can’t,” you choked, grabbing at his shoulders as he seemed to overwhelm you just by pressing his weight down on top of you.  “I’m sorry— you… you proved your point, I— I just need a break—”
Even though the drug he’d injected you with was wearing off, you realized you were just as limp and helpless as before… after all, some of the most powerful chemicals come inside the body.  You didn’t even fight it when he put his hand over your mouth, spitting out a quiet but hateful shut up and continuing with his quick and forceful thrusts into you.  
He kept you conscious and lucid by occasionally hitting or choking you, talking to you, once or twice even ordering you to kiss him.  Like you mean it, he’d said, slapping you as punishment for doing it wrong.  Truth be told, you hadn’t kissed anyone in so long that you’d really been trying your best the first time.  Sometimes he told you to beg him for more— or to beg him to get off of you— and yet he would usually punish you for speaking at all.  He was completely unpredictable, and you figured that was part of the plan: take away any shred of control you might try to get by making it impossible to follow his rules.  Keep you confused and crying, keep you fearful, keep you obedient.
But, he did seem to enjoy when you could only just choke out a broken please.  He laughed at you, pinching your sore clit in response until you sobbed and tried to jerk your hips away.  “‘Please’ what, honey?  You mean, ‘please keep fucking me, Doctor Crane, you’ll make me come again?’” he taunted.  “Something like that?”
“Please… please,” you swallowed around your whines, “please just… finish, and go…”
“Oh,” he purred, “you want me to come?”
You’d specifically not phrased it that way, but, yes, that was what you were asking for.  You weren’t sure what else he wanted from you now, it felt like he’d drained you of everything.
“You can just say that, baby— you wanna make me come?” he grinned, moving in closer for a kiss, but you turned your head away.  He grabbed your jaw again and stared at you with an angry glare.  “This isn’t about me.  This is what you wanted.  This is what you fucking wanted!”
As he screamed in your face, you sobbed and tried to look away again, but he hit you hard on the face and covered your mouth before the cry of agony could come out.  
“This is what you wanted, right?” he insisted again, forcing your head to nod with his clammy, iron-tight grip.  “Uh huh— and you wanna make me come, don’t you?  You understand now that’s all you’re good for.”
As sick as it was, you felt yourself fall into another orgasm when he said that; your eyes rolled back a bit, and for a moment you felt even hotter between your legs.
“I think, if you beg me to come, maybe I will,” he offered— bargaining with you, probably another way to trick you into clamoring for some control only to yank it away.  Unfortunately, you were in no position to turn down a deal.
“Please,” you blurted out the second he released your mouth from under his hand; when you blinked the tears from your eyes, you saw him clearly again and realized how completely different he looked from the arrogant-but-generally-unassuming man you knew from work.  His hair was fallen beside his face, and he was close enough that the ends were tickling your forehead.  His eyes were bloodshot, crazed, and dark.  His lips, always full and plush but usually in a tight frown or neutral look of condescending boredom, were curled around the teeth he bared at you.  He looked animalistic, for a man typically so measured.  Only he could do something so animalistic in a way that required such intellect, foresight, and contemplation— using his superhuman skills to treat you in a subhuman manner.  You realized that you were really seeing him for the first time— the person you’d known before was the mask.  This was something horribly freeing for him; and you were having a much easier time analyzing and thinking about him to distract from how sickly freeing this experience was becoming for you.  “Please, Jonathan—”
“Doctor Crane,” he corrected.  Apparently this wasn’t enough to put you on a first name basis…
“Doctor Crane,” you repeated, “please… come.  I want… I want you to come.”
“Hmm,” he considered, and you worried he’d decide he was unimpressed with your effort and hurt you again— but, he did maybe the only thing worse.  “Okay,” he agreed, “if it’s so important to you.”
Just when you shut your eyes tight and hoped you could just get through this— just hold on for a few more minutes at most and then this would be over and done with— he whispered in your ear that he needed you to keep your eyes open if he was going to finish.  
Though, when you obeyed, he purred at you and let his own eyes flutter shut for just a moment.  For once, he actually seemed affected by all this physically and not just psychosexually.  “I think I’ll come inside, like he did before,” Crane decided with a groan when he opened his eyes, biting his lip for a moment as he stared down at you.  “I didn’t see any birth control in your listed medications on chart… I guess we’ll find out if you have a fear of getting pregnant.”
"Jonathan— don't," you whimpered.  "Please, don't do that—"
"Shh," he soothed, petting the top of your head and laying his weight over you.  "Shh, it's alright.  I think you need to be filled with come… I think that might be the one thing that’ll get you to settle down, now just hold still.”
“I— please… please…” you began to beg again, but your words faded away as another wave of sensation washed over you— they started to blend together, like before, and you realized you were doing what he’d asked: you were losing count.
“Good girl,” he praised under his breath, “like that— fuck, I’m close.  Fuck!”
He held onto you tight— one hand on your thigh and the other on your neck as his thrusts sped to a desperately, impossibly fast pace.  You moaned— or cried, or yelled, or something— as he pushed just a little too deep and your toes curled in your heels.
“Uh huh,” he encouraged, “just one more while I come inside you— I think you can manage that, just one more good squeeze on my cock— oh, fuck, that’s it, yes, just like that…”
You stopped being able to understand what he was saying, but you heard the wavering groan that came a few moments later when his movements suddenly stopped.  He gasped and kept himself as far inside you as possible; you shuddered, blinking fresh tears out of your eyes, and felt paralyzed in an entirely new way as you laid under him, staring up at your ceiling, seeing how far the sun had set since it began— actually, it had started to rain, making it even more impossible to tell how much time had really passed.  Eventually, though, he took his head out from the crook of your neck and propped himself up enough to look down at you.  
Reaching to your coffee table, he fumbled his hand around until he found his glasses, and shakily put them back on.  “Well,” he grinned, still panting but seeming to be mostly back to himself (whoever that was).  “I never thought I’d meet someone who loves fear as much as I do.”
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cryptidghostgirl · 2 months
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I have another chubby reader for you! I was only gonna ask for one but YOURE SO AMAZING I JUST HAD TO PUT IN ANOTHER REQUEST😞😩 Alastor x chubby!reader, where reader goes out with angel Dust to a party or something wearing a *cough* slutty *cough* outfit and Alastor SEES THEM WEARING IT 👀 and he gets possessive of reader and won't let them leave with angel (whose smirking in the background and fluttering his eyelashes like he's innocent because reader and Alastor are bother emotionally constipated or something and haven't confessed to each other😤) and reader is nervous enough wearing something so revealing already (but they felt good enough in their own skin to wear such an outfit; that confidence is quickly fading when Alastor stops her from leaving with the outfit) so she gets the wrong idea that Alastor thinks she disgusting or body shaming her 🥺 but Alastors just ranting about being ladylike and "dressing like a proper lady" , Angel Dust is now watching this heartbreaking train wreck happen and tries to intervene but then Alastor turns on him about tainting the reader or something but reader has heard enough and just quietly just turns around and walks to her room heartbroken 😭 then angel yells at Alastor and tells him everything *shocked Pikachu face* and goes to reader to fix this misunderstanding, you take it from here????? BUT THEY DO CONFESS
(I LOVE ME SOME HURT/COMFORT AND LOVE CONFESSIONS! YUMM!)
A/N I love your requests and I'm so glad you liked how Sweet turned out. I am actually really proud of that one myself. Of course I will write this. 11/10.
Pretty Bunny (Alastor x Chubby!Rabbit Demon!Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: Hurt/comfort. Body image and weight stuff. I feel like Alastor is a bit ooc but I think this is cute so I don't super care.
Word Count: 2,049
Master Lists:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List
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“And where exactly is it you two are off to in such a hurry?”
Y/n and Angel froze, Angel's hand resting on the handle to the hotel's door.
"Well?"
Exchanging a covert look, Y/n and Angel turned to face Alastor. Y/n clasped her hands innocently behind her back, looking up at Alastor through her lashes which Angel had done up in silver falsies, and Angel fixed a smile on his face.
"Just out." Y/n hummed.
"Yeah," Angel chimed in, draping one of his lower arms over Y/n's shoulders and bringing her into his side, "little Y/n here deserves a night out on the town and some fun."
Y/n quickly elbowed Angel in the side. The spider demon knew Alastor and his opinions on the night life of Pentagram City. He was tempting fate. Alastor raised his eyebrows.
"You deserve 'some fun,' do you?" Alastor asked, fixing his gaze on the shorter of the pair of demons.
Angel released his grip on Y/n, shoving her forward slightly. She stumbled a bit, shooting him a glare before looking carefully back at Alastor. His scrutinizing gaze traversed her form with care. Angel had insisted on dressing her up and while the outfit he had put her in was a bit out of her comfort zone, Y/n felt incredibly pretty. The little white satin dress hung from her hips, playing gently against her thighs when she walked, and the black knee high platforms made her at least a couple inches taller. Angel had even placed black satin bows around the bases of her rabbit ears to tie the whole thing together.
There were also the chains, thin and dripping off her body. A necklace here, a carefully placed waist chain there, she looked practically angelic. Alastor crossed his arms, tapping his foot menacingly as he impatiently waited for an explanation.
"Well, we've been working so hard to become better people and it's been three months since we've done anything... fun. Besides, it was my birthday last week."
"Uh-huh." Alastor nodded, his lack of amusement with the situation obvious, "And where exactly are you two planning on going?"
"Oh come on, Smiles. It's just a club I know." Angel sighed, "You're starting to sound like Charlie. I thought you wanted to see us fail."
"That is true." was the only response the Radio Demon gave Angel before fixing his attention on Y/n once again.
She was beginning to grow uncomfortable under his piercing stare. Y/n wrapped her arms around herself, her shoulders hunching slightly.
"So what is the issue, Alastor."
The name felt foreign on her tongue. Although she had been a guest of the Hazbin Hotel practically since its creation, she avoided Alastor. At first, it had of course been due to intimidation. Then, as he had slowly begun to reveal his true colors to the residents of the hotel, it had morphed into something entirely other. Y/n thought that the Radio Demon, one of the most feared overlords in all of Hell, was pretty.
Y/n had never been good at dealing with crushes or flirting or anything. She avoided him like the plague. Her tail twitched thoughtlessly with trepidation, shifting her skirt just the slightest bit, revealing just the smallest big more of her thighs.. It was the last straw for Alastor.
"You're not going out in that."
Angel pressed his palm to his forehead, shaking his head. Love was his specialty, the act and the feeling. It was obvious to him Y/n had a thing for the Radio Demon, and not just because she had revealed the information to him in one of their late night talks. He never brought it up with the rabbit demon who had become a dear friend in the time they had known one another, but he was relatively certain Alastor had some interest in her as well. The Radio Demon seemed to constantly be a few steps behind her, entering rooms she had just left, letting his eyes linger on her when they did their group exercises.
At Alastor's words, Y/n's mouth fell slightly open. Her breath caught in her throat, a shiver running through her.
"Oh."
Her voice was strained and Angel could tell she was holding back tears. Y/n turned away from Alastor, her shoulders slouching even further.
"That is no way for a proper lady to dress." Alastor continued, not seeming to notice the effect his words had had as he lectured the smaller demon, "I mean, you're barley wearing anything at all! For goodness sake, your shoes are covering more than that dress an-"
"Alright," Angel cut in, stepping up beside Y/n and pulling her into his arms, "that's enough big guy."
"You're clearly tainting her with your promiscuity." Alastor sighed, "What, you want to bring her to some club so ignorant wimps can drool over her all night? Or maybe that's what she wants to have happen."
Y/n pulled herself from Angel's grip and marched right up to Alastor. Her eyes wet with unshed tears, he looked down at the finger she was jabbing into his chest in mild shock.
"You are mean." she stated, "I can't believe how wrong I was about you. I thought... god!"
She let her finger fall and crossed her arms over her stomach once again.
"You ready to go, sweet cheeks?" Angel asked and she shook her head.
All the fight had gone out of her.
"No, you go ahead without me. I think... I think I'm just gonna go to bed. Thanks for... yeah."
With those parting words, Y/n stormed upstairs. Angel and Alastor watched until she had long since disappeared into the depths of the hotel. Slowly, they turned to face each other once again.
"What." Alastor said in the most deadpan tone Angel had ever heard come from the demon.
"How could you do that?" Angel asked accusatorially, taking a step towards Alastor, "She is the sweetest little menace on the planet!"
"Do what?"
Alastor's brow furrowed in confusion. He didn't think he'd said anything wrong, done anything wrong. Y/n was the one who had over reacted, stepped out of line, right?
"Do you have any idea how long it has taken her to be confident enough to wear something like that? She has worked so hard on her relationship with herself and... and... she felt pretty. Why would you say that shit to her?"
"I... what?"
"She liked you, ya dumbass! She cared about what you thought of her!"
Alastor took the slightest step back, his hand not grasping his microphone raised to his chest, hovering over his heart.
"I am afraid I don't understand you."
Angel sighed, trying to calm himself.
"Look. Y/n has a crush on you and you just told her she wasn't pretty."
"No I didn't. I told her she should be more ladylike. A crush on me?"
"Yeah well, that's not much better. She is who she is and she is wonderful! The way that she dresses doesn't change any of that."
"She has a crush on me?" Alastor asked again, dumbstruck.
"Yes you idiot."
"But she never speaks to me. I thou-"
"That's cause she's nervous. Geeze, you are dense."
Y/n jumped in shock as she caught sight of Alastor using his shadows to teleport into her room through the reflection of the mirror. Her makeup half off, she turned to him.
"The fuck are you doing here?"
Alastor opened his mouth, about to make a comment about her language before thinking better of it and closing it again. Y/n rolled her eyes, her anger and hurt having festered into irritation. She turned back to the mirror, using the cotton pad in her hand to take off the last of her mascara. Alastor watched her face through the mirror as she tossed the cotton pad to the side.
Reaching up, she slowly began to disassemble the sculpture of a hairdo Angel had put her in.
"Why are you here?" she asked again, placing a bobby pin on the table.
"I came to... apologize." he replied, taking a small step forward.
"What, did Angel force ya' to?"
It wasn't often her accent slipped out. Y/n had been raised in Brooklyn but her parents had been insistent she work not to have the accent. People didn't take people who had them seriously, they said. It only ever made an appearance when she was drunk or feeling any emotion to it's extremity, especially anger.
"No, I am here of my own volition."
"Yeah, sure." she scoffed as she pulled the last of the pins from her hair, allowing it to fall freely around her face as she turned back to him over her shoulder, "I totally believe that."
"It was not my intent to make you feel like you weren't... pretty." Alastor carefully said, avoiding her eyes, "Just tha-
"If an apology involves an exception, is it really an apology?"
Alastor had never been good at this. Apologies or any of the other feelings he had been actively suppressing about the rabbit demon since he had come to the hotel. She stood up from her chair, walking over to him.
Y/n knew the clock was ticking, felt the heat of the tears building in her head again.
"What." she asked, throwing her arms out to the sides and looking around the room, "Ya' think I'm ugly? Unladylike? Is that because I let Angel dress me up or because I'm not stick thin?"
"Y/n."
There were tears dripping down her cheeks now. She looked away, crossing her arms tightly across her stomach in protection.
"Just leave, Alastor."
"Y/-"
"Leave!" she commanded, "Get outa here!"
"Y/-"
"I don' wanna talk to you! What don't ya' get about that!"
"Y/n!" Alastor grabbed her shoulder, turning her to face him.
"What!" she yelled back, tears streaming hotly down her face, "What, Alastor."
"I... I think you're beautiful."
The tears stopped, Y/n's eyes wide. Fueled by a sudden wild courage Alastor continued, grabbing her hands in his own.
"I do. You... I don't have the words. You..." he shook his head, "I really don't. You are a wonder."
Her nose twitched subtly, her ears adjusting themselves atop her head.
"But then why... why did you say those things to me?"
"I was jealous." he anxiously admitted, "I never meant to make you cry."
"Jealous?" Y/n repeated with a slight laugh and Alastor nodded.
His cheeks were hot and his heart pounding in his chest but he refused to look away from Y/n. Releasing one of her hands, he reached into his pocket and retrieved a handkerchief. Gently, he raised it to Y/n's face, patting away her tears.
"You were jealous."
He wasn't going to be able to escape this one.
"That some other guy was gonna see you like that? Was going to charm you and hold you in their arms while I did nothing? Of course I was."
"I have a confession to make." Y/n said after a moment.
"And what might that be?" Alastor asked as he took another step closer to Y/n, still holding one of her hands in his.
He tried his best to repress a smile, her bashfulness was so endearing.
"I maybe, kind of sort of... think you're beautiful too?"
She looked up at him through her lashes. He let go of her hands, grabbing her by the waste and pulling her body into his.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." she nodded shyly.
"You know, I might have heard something along those lines from Angel just a bit earlier."
"From... that little bitch! I mean snitch! I mean both actually I guess."
Alastor laughed at her antics.
"So, pretty bunny, what are we to do with this revelation?"
Y/n's ears cocked. Alastor could feel her tail twitch, brushing up against his arm where he held her. A shiver traveled down his spine.
"Oh I don't know." Y/n feigned indecision, her hands finding her way around his waist as well, bringing them even closer together, "Maybe you should ask me on a date? If you're interested."
"Interested?" Alastor laughed, leaning down, "Of course I am."
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diagnosedpsychosis · 5 months
Text
Love At First Sight- Jake Seresin
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Contains: A little bit of weight/body insecurity from reader, shy/coward jake, just as shy reader, fluff
Description: Jake's been acting a little differently cause he's taken an interest in you and doesn't want you to think he's a jerk. All the while he's too nervous to make a move.
Word Count: 1.4k
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Jake didn't know what had come over him so hard that the confident man he was just weeks ago, had been replaced with a coward. He noticed it. His teammates noticed it. Even the bar regulars noticed that suddenly one of the cockiest, loudest, most outgoing men in San Diego had turned into a borderline hermit.
His regular game of darts with Javy had become a once in a blue moon activity. His teasing of Bradley, Bob and Nat ceased the moment they were finished work for the day. Even the usual 6 or 7 beers he'd pound down after a long day had reduced to 2 or 3 at the most.
He had an instinct of knowing when someone was looking at him, like his teammates and would meet their eyes with nothing but a bored stare before they'd look away not wanting to be bummed out by his mood. If only they knew that wasn't how he was feeling at all.
Even tonight, as Jake sits in a corner booth at the Hard Deck, his beer turning warm in his hand, his mouth and the rapid thud of his heart almost betray his exterior as he stares at you across the bar. You're talking to Penny, the easy smile on your face enough to make the corner of his lips twitch as he sits still, imagining all the things he'd say to you if he only had the courage to get off his ass.
Then he feels eyes on him and looks away, shooting a hard look in Javy and Reuben's direction. They both whirl around, turning their backs to him and then he's back to looking at you.
"He looking again?" Penny mumbles, leaning over the bar and grinning up at you. You've been caught glancing around the room again as to not make it obvious you were staring right back at the handsome blond.
"Mmm" You hum, biting on the inside of your cheek to try and stop yourself from grinning like a fool. You glance around again, eyes moving swiftly over him and onto the next person despite the desperate yearning in your chest, begging you to look at him again.
"I don't know why you don't just go and talk to him" Penny leans forward, lowering her tone so that there isn't a chance another guy in uniform hears the exchange. You whine, bouncing your foot like you were trying to get rid of a cramp.
"Have you met me? I'll take two steps and sweat my face off" You've never been overly confident and you had High School to thank for it. It didn't matter that it's been a decade since you graduated, growing up an overweight girl and not dropping the weight until you were in your 20's made you overly receptive to judgement.
You felt better now, more confident and happier, but because you didn't get to experience that bittersweet 'teenage love', you weren't really sure how dates and interest in people being reciprocated worked. Slowly losing weight late when everyone was getting boyfriends, or pregnant or even married didn't help either.
You'd noticed guys flocking to your pretty, skinny friends on nights out, and despite how beautiful your friends promised you were, your weight was the first thing they saw. If you smiled their way you were just the sweet, chubby girl that looked like she'd drank a whole bar empty and didn't know what was in and out of her league.
You'd never really had experience talking to guys, your Dad and brother not included, so the fact a ridiculously handsome man in uniform, that you're sure never would've spared you a glance when you were bigger, had been staring at you for weeks now, made you beyond nervous to make eye contact with him, let alone talk to him like Penny has tried to convince you to do for a while now.
"Well hey, if he doesn't love your nervous sweats then he doesn't deserve you" Penny tried to make you feel better, squeezing your arm before standing back up straight to fix a couple orders from some guys at the end of the bar. Your smile slowly falls from your face and internally you curse at yourself for not having the courage to even just go and say hi.
What you don't realise is Jake's doing the same, beating himself up for becoming so darn weak that he can't stand up, take a deep breath and walk over to you. Flying planes and risking his life were easy, but talking to a pretty woman he's been coming to the Hard Deck every day for 3 weeks purely with hopes of even just seeing? He felt like he couldn't breathe.
But then he watches your exchange with Penny, his heart beating twice as hard when for the first time in 3 weeks he watches the smile he's come to adore slowly fade from your face when Penny turns her back to you. He notices your heavy exhale and the drop of your shoulders. He notices you running the tip of your index finger around the rim of the glass in your hand that you're yet to take a sip of. He notices the slight crease of your eyebrows when you gnaw on your lip, and suddenly... he's never wanted to lift someone's mood so desperately before.
He doesn't give himself even a second to talk himself out of making his way to you, the need to see your smile again all too consuming.
Whatever's on your mind has your full attention, that even when the guy you've been watching for the last 3 weeks sits down on the stool beside you, his knee grazing yours, you fail to notice and keep tracing your finger around the rim of your glass.
Jake didn't know what the hell to say that didn't make him come across as an obsessed stalker, so he tried a humorous take instead. "You know, I almost wore that exact same top today. How embarrassing would that have been if we matched?"
His voice floats right into your ear and you turn your head, sucking in a sharp breath when you realise the person that's just spoken to you, is the same person you're making yourself insecure over. You open your mouth like a goldfish, not knowing what to say as you're still trying to process the fact he's finally spoken to you, before closing your mouth again.
You look down at the obviously very feminine top you paired with plain jeans, and finally his words sink in. Your lips curve up and the moment of internal terror Jake had as you stared at him in silence, washed away.
"Only embarrassing if you pulled it off better than me" Jake's mouth pulls up into an easy smile as he stares right back at you, both completely oblivious to the group of pilots watching the exchange in surprise.
"I find it hard to believe anyone could" The flirtation rolls of Jake's tongue and he can't help grin at the sight of your cheeks flushing as you turn your head away from him slightly, looking ahead. Jake's eyes bounce over your features up close and he wonders how somebody could look so beautiful from afar, and even more mesmerising up close. He regret's not talking to you the second he saw you.
"I'm Jake" He blurts the words, almost like he can't contain them any more. The longer he goes without properly introducing himself and learning your name, the more desperate he becomes to know anything and everything about you. You look back and his eyes are immediately drawn to your lips as they curve up in the most beautifully natural smile.
Sure, he's wanted to kiss you since the moment he spotted you, but right now, as he stares at your mouth and the faint dimple poking at your cheeks, he's never been more content seeing another person happy in his life.
"Y/n" You reply softly and immediately your name is carved and filled with pure liquid gold, in Jake's heart. His heart beats to the letters of your name in morse code. His eyes fill with so much hope as he stares at you, like finding out your name is the greatest gift he could've ever gotten.
And as you stare right back at him, he wonders if telling you he's in love with you before even the suggestion of a first date is too soon.
________________________________________
My first Top Gun: Maverick short. Hope it was okay <3
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yunoclips · 9 months
Text
“Don’t be nervous markie. I would never hurt you or do anything that you don’t like.” You say in a comforting tone as you hover over your boyfriends cock. You try to be as assuring as you can considering Mark is a virgin.
Losing his virginity is a very big deal for him and you feel honored that he trusts you enough to go through this with him. Mark is such a person pleaser and you know he struggles with communicating his needs and wants.
You’re here to change that though. This experience is all about him and you plan on making it unforgettable.
“You want this right mark?” You ask.
He nods his head but that’s not enough for you. You need him to be positive and confident in his decisions.
“I need words baby.” You continue.
“I-i want this. Just a little nervous t-that’s all” He says in a shaky jumble of words. His chest is rising rapidly and sweat is starting to form on his hair line. This won’t do.
You scoop two fingers under his chin and tilt his head up so that he has no other choice but to look you in the eye. Then you lean your head in to the point where you can feel his breath fanning over your mouth. The tips of your noses touching.
“You want this right?” You say. More firm this time.
“Yes”. He responds quickly.
“You want this because you want to feel good. I know you like to feel good baby.” You pause leaning into his ear to whisper. You can hear his breath hitch.
“Always making everyone else feel good but never yourself. All i’ve ever wanted was to make it about you.” You continue. Placing open mouthed kisses to the side of his face causing his body to slightly jerk. You separate your lips from his cheek and move your head to whisper in his other ear.
“I promise it’ll feel good. I’ll make it nice and special just for you. You deserve it all markie.”
And before he’s able to answer, you sink down on his cock. You lift yourself up planting two hands on his chest. Monitoring his face closely checking for any signs of discomfort. He lays there with his mouth agape. Taking a slow deep breath before he begins to breathe erratically. His eyes roll back a little before they refocus on your face.
You try to lift yourself just a bit but two hands planting your hips down prevents you from doing so.
“W-wait , fuck please just w-wait. I-i think i’m gonna c-cum already fuck” He says in a panicked manner as he stares at the ceiling slightly zoned out.
"It's okay baby , whenever you're ready." With that you continue your motions. Bouncing up and down in a slow pace. Mark's moans turn from mewls and whimpers into choked gurgles. You could see tears start to form along his water line. A small line of drool dribbles down his cheek as he continues to have his mouth open.
You could feel him throbbing inside of you. His abdomen contracting in harsh patterns. His thighs were constantly flexing themselves. He was really close. He wasn't able to form a coherent word in his mind. All he could feel was an earth shattering pleasure he has never felt before.
Leaning down while continuing your up and down movements , Your mouth latches to one of his hardened nipples. Carefully sucking the bud in your mouth and running your tongue around it in circular patterns.
While you use your mouth on him you bring your other hand up to pinch the opposite nipple.
The combination of you bouncing on his cock and his nipples being stimulated sends him over the edge.
It begins with a completely stiffened body. On the outside it looks like his entire body had caught a bad cramp from how stiff he was. All you could hear was gurgled noises. As if he was choking on his own saliva. His eyes went completely cross eyed. In his world everything stopped.
His ears were ringing. His heart threatening to beat out of his chest. The feeling in his stomach was so intense that he stopped breathing for a second. Everything was all too much at once , and before he knew it his world went black.
When he regains his conscious he opens his eyes. Staring at the ceiling for a bit before turning his head. There you were sitting beside him softly caressing your hands through his messy hair. Before he had a chance to ask any questions, you spoke up.
"Hi" You say in a light hearted tone. Cheeky smile planted across your face going from ear to ear. Voice as smooth as honey.
"Hey." He replies with a sluggish smile painted across his face. He is so in love.
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frogchiro · 8 months
Note
okay wait why am i now just hearing about butcher/slasher ghost, and why am i foaming at the mouth!!!???! like ripping apart pillows, tearing down walls, doing flips—RAHHH i am officially OBSESSED!!
i read it and thought of texas chainsaw massacre, but it’s the 2006 one so like simon is an absolute menace but he sees a pretty lady who’s new to town and his cold killer heart just can’t help but swoon :((( and she’s so polite, nervous, and timid because it’s so different in this town and simon with his cursed blessed keen sense of smell
OH MY GOD BUT SLASHER GRAVES IN A SMALL TOWN DOWN IN TEXAS!!!?
so sorry if this is a lot!! 😣 i’m just a little obsessed 🤭🤭 either way, have an amazing day!! stay hydrated and make sure to eat 🩷🩷
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HOW THE FUCK DID I NEVER THINK OF SLASHER GRAVES
My dear, I know that you probably expected Butcher!Ghost but I'm highjacking this ask now and writing slasher Graves because oh my god-
The setting I imagine to be in a small southern town in Texas, and I imagine it to be like one of those creepy, small southern gothic towns with the old abandoned churches, houses and old beaten up signs that say "His return is near" or "God is watching you", you get the idea.
And there we have Philip Graves who owns a big ranch passed down for generations in his family, and by big I mean HUGE. Enormous pastures, corn fields, cows, horses, pigs and all that which means he and his name is quite well know in the area which admittedly makes his...hobby a lot easier than you'd think. Graves has friends in high places and he's buddy buddy with the town's sheriff, basically the golden child of the town which means that both the police and the sheriff will turn a blind eye to the "sudden disappearances" of people, be it locals or newcomers to town.
But the thing is that Philip Graves is bored. Bored out of his mind and nothing seems to excite him anymore, not even the desperate hysterical screams of his victims do the thing anymore. Sure he definitely has the money, the looks that refined well with age, he's respected and liked in the community but the truth is-he doesn't give a shit about it.
I imagine that Slasher!Graves is an incredibly arrogant man, and while he may put on a pleasant facade, his accent a thick and purring drawl and his southern charm do the trick he's a whimsical and capricious prick who gets easily bored and when he does...Well let's just say that it doesn't end pretty.
So imagine how surprised he was when he was in town once in his pickup truck, cowboy hat low on his brow as he watched the cars go by when suddenly his eyes were caught by a bus, one of those that travel for very long distances and the only person who got out was you. To say that Philip's interest was piqued would be an understatement; what's a pretty soft little thing like you doing in this bumfuck nowhere in Texas?
A pretty young lady, seemingly around 20, who looked like a lost little lamb, but just what were you doing here? Everything about you screamed that you're obviously not from here and while he could see even from a distance that you tried to act confident, his sharp blue eyes saw right through that act-you were scared shitless and more than lost. Were you here to visit someone? Or maybe...you are running from something? Whatever the case was, you definitely caught his attention in more than one way.
You just looked...so soft, so pretty, lovely he'd even say and I'm sorry but this Graves that we're talking about would definitely be a little misogynistic :(( He's old fashioned, maybe it comes with his age or maybe due to how his pa raised him but the further he observed you the more he he couldn't help but think about how such a pretty young lady like yourself should be married off already to a nice gentleman, getting provided for like you deserve and in return takin' care of your husband too; bringing him beer, cookin' and popping out a kid or two :((
His train of thoughts got interrupted only by a loud booming voice calling out his name cheerfully and when he turned around annoyed to see who was interrupting him, it turned out to be old Michael, an old friend of his pa. He greeted him politely but when he turned around to watch you a little more it turned out that you already wandered off, sneaky girl.
Philip cursed under his breath but on the other hand he decided to just ask the sheriff about you since he knows that the man has access to all the information about any newcomers to town. It looks like his bored streak came to an end <3
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christronomy · 8 months
Text
thinking about jeongin and how love with him would be so innocent at first, but then as time goes on, you experiment more and build a lot more confidence with being intimate. your kisses linger for a little longer than usual, you tease him with soft, featherlight touches that leave him breathless, and he has the cutest surprised expression on his face because when did you start getting so bold?
he subconsciously starts doing it too though, letting his hands wander a little bit more every time you make out, and it's like that for a while, until your touches get more risky, and you're both gasping into each other's mouths in surprise. you swear you can practically feel his heartbeat accelerating because of how close you are now, and since when did this room get so hot? he whines against your lips, not wanting to be too far from you for a second, because these new feelings he's experiencing are a little overwhelming, but you're helping him stay grounded. also because he wants more, so much more.
before he knows it, his cock is twitching in his pants at the thought of the two of you going as far as undressing each other, and he's already utterly captivated by the thought of having you under him, naked, in his bed, no barriers between your bodies at all. you can't help but think the same, because oh how pretty he'd look, how pretty he'd sound while he's on top of you, panting, breathless, desperately fucking into you, begging you to let him cum inside you.
he wants to learn the proper way to love you—wants to know where and how to touch you in ways that will make you scream his name and fall even more in love with him. but it's your first time, his too. you have to take it slow for now. but he's okay with that. he's even more okay with it when he notices how sensitive you are, how every touch makes you gasp and squirm under him. he likes it went you guide him and tell him where and how you like it.
“curl your fingers like- fuck- like that," you'd say, the way his slender fingers brush against your gummy walls as his thumb rubs your clit just right making your back arch suddenly, and you gasp and moan softly in surprise. he makes sure to imprint that in his brain, remember it for next time, because he wants everything to be perfect for you no matter how inexperienced he is. he wants to limit any mess ups because you deserve the absolute best from him.
now you've already gotten past the most tedious part, which was getting his cock inside you before he had the chance to cum, cause he was already so close the second he felt your warm, velvety walls sucking him in, so warm, inviting. maybe even a little greedy. a part of him is more relieved than nervous, because he wouldn't trust anyone else but you to do this, and he's so glad you trusted him as well. he's a little clumsy at first as he settles on top of you, but he's already a whining mess once he starts moving. you look up at him, watching how his pupils dilate with lust, but he's still got that same adorably curious look on his face as he looks down at you. it's like he's asking you a silent is this okay? and you nod, urging him on softly.
he's gripping your hips tightly, not really for any particular reason, he just doesn't know what to do with his hands. but he won't tell you that, of course. you find it very endearing, the fact that it's almost like he's trying to impress you, even though you both have never done this before. he moves at a steady pace, trying his best not to get carried away and let the pleasure get the best of him because he really wants you to enjoy this just as much as he is.
and god, when you moan like that, when you whisper for him to move at that certain angle that makes you dizzy with this newfound sensation, and the way you'll yelp softly and clench around him when his cock brushes against that spot inside you just the way you like it, he can't get enough. he hopes he can see you like this as much as possible. if it were up to him, it'd be every single day, especially when he sees the way you look so beautiful when you come undone just for him, all because of him, for the first time ever. he thinks there's really no better way to have experienced his first time than like this.
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nsfw alphabet: cute & soft matty healy x fem reader
so, i'm not a writer whatsoever, but i have thoughts (a lot of them smutty tbh) about a certain matty healy and wanted to jot them down as i need to try and get them off this brain of mine.
i have a type and it's middle part sometimes straight hair sometimes curly silver chain baggy clothes wearing matty, who in my head appears shy and innocent at first due to his fidgety demeanour (eg. running hands thru his hair constantly, mindlessly biting his bottom lip, repeatedly tapping his foot, etc.) but is actually very opinionated and witty with the people he’s close to, including you. he’s been your bff for years but is afraid of taking it further because he adores you and doesn't want your friendship to be ruined due to his big feelings towards you. he loves to hug you to feel you close and breathe in your scent, but honestly, he doesn't (or tries to not) have much physical contact with you otherwise because his mind, heart, and body cannot take it. he's enamoured by you and has been for years now to the point where he is 96.7% sure he's really, really in love. that's how it all starts and you do eventually end up together, but it takes some time... oh, and he has a crazy sex drive and lots of dirty thoughts about you. a shy romantic horny opinionated man who is mostly a sub.
nothing super unique, just mostly here for the soft bf matty vibes because we all deserve one of those.
(sorry in advance for all the grammatical errors, typos, and run on sentences. i'm not a proofreader.)
warnings: 18+, lots of smut with some fluff. this is too fucking long lol
other bf matty blurbs & rambles here.
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a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
this boy lives and breathes to take care of you, before, after, and during sex. anything he can do to make you feel safe, loved, satisfied. but his favourite form of aftercare is, hands down, using his mouth and tongue to make sure you're all clean. after he does so, the little ritual continues by spending time just softly kissing each other's lips. you both indulge in the lingering taste of each other's cum, but there's nothing dirty or aggressive about it. it's all gentle, a sweet reminder that you belong to each other.
b = body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
if matty were to choose his favourite part of his body, it would be his arms. after all, there's a reason why he keeps decorating them with tattoos. makes him feel confident about himself and, honestly, doesn't mind all the compliments either. bless him. but he also has grown to appreciate his unruly curly head of hair, the reason being that he knows how much you like it after all the tantrums you throw whenever he cuts it. before you get together, you only play with it when you're too drunk or high, but when you do so it makes his heart grow.
his favourite part(s) of your body are your hands. so delicate with silver rings adorning almost every finger. it's difficult for him to not watch when you rub them against each other when you're nervous. or how your hand finds itself in front of your mouth whenever you laugh too hard at his nonsense. he knows you prefer dark nail polish vs. lighter coloured ones. he has imagined countless times how your hands would feel on him. sigh. he worships those hands of yours and would kiss then every single second if he could.
after you do get together, he realizes that, as cliché as it sounds, he loves your cunt. for one, when he first saw you completely naked he thought he could just die happy right then and there. but that was until he got to taste you and decided he'd much rather be alive as he could never have enough of your sweetness. and how it perfectly fits around him? he swears he’s the luckiest motherfucker alive.
c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
oh god. don't let the shy boy act fool you. he is FILTHY. it took a few months for this side of him to show, but you are over the moon when you find out how enthralled he is when he sees his cum dripping out of you. it all started one afternoon when you were riding him (his fav position of course, see letter f below). he finished inside you, his head thrown back over the couch while trying to catch his breath. after a few minutes, you raise your hips to pull away and carefully sit right below his stomach, making sure not too hurt him. once his breathing is back to normal, he looks back at you with those sweet tired eyes, gaze travelling down your body and ending at your spent core, where he notices beads of his white cum running down your cunt. the sight is almost too much for him, poor matty. he bites his bottom lip hard to stifle his whimpers, but somehow gathers enough courage to ask if he can touch you ("sorry sorry sorry i know it's gross. fuuuck. forget i said anythi--" "matty, calm down, baby. my sweet boy, it's okay. you can do it. i want you to.") his mind goes haywire when he brings his thumb to touch you, picking up a bit of his cum which he then rubs on your clit in small, gentle circles. sigh. but yes, cum is involved and you both love it. that's that.
d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
before you were officially dating, you once left a black shirt at his place, one of your favourites in fact! don't really know the specifics of why or how it happened, but you left it there and he found it. his sensitive soul found it difficult not to immediately grab it and put it against his face to smell your lingering scent. but it didn’t take long for his horny mind to take over and wrap the piece of cloth around his cock and get himself off. before he realized what he was doing, he had already stained your shirt and the shame he felt was unreal to the point where he could not look you in the eye next time you saw each other. “oh, btw, i think i left my top at yours. do you think you can bright it next time?” his face had never been more red in his entire life lol. it wasn’t until you were together that he confessed to it when you were playing an nsfw version of truth n dare in your living room because you were both drunk as fuck.
e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
okay. so believe or not, this matty doesn't really do hookups. he's in a famous band, yeah, but he's not really looking to get off with people just for one night. he will only do it if he feels a spark with someone on some level other than physical attraction, but he prefers the intimacy and closeness that comes with a relationship. because of this, he hasn't had too many different sexual partners, but during those few relationships he worshipped his other half and did everything he could to learn every single little thing about how to please her in the best way possible. it takes him time to get there with every gf, but once he knows what you like, you will never be dissatisfied. tl:dr not too much experience when it comes to body count, but will excel A++++ all around with the partner he's currently with.
f = favourite position (this goes without saying)
without a doubt, you riding him while he’s sitting up. can be on the sofa, your favourite dining chair, the edge of your bed (his preferred place), the back of the tour bus, you name it. this man loves close skin-to-skin sweaty contact. he is eager to keep you near when you grind yourself on him, one arm tight around your mid back, the palm of the other gripping your ass, guiding your hips back n forth. this way he can also keep kissing your face, neck and shoulders whenever he wants to and feel your tits against his chest. it also allows him to look up at you as you bounce up and down his cock, this which might be one of his favourite sights in the entire world, just as if he were worshiping you.
g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
for the most part the sex is a calm, sensual endeavour, but if something happens like his fingers getting tangled in your hair, him kissing your teeth, you accidentally tickling him, he'll be adorable and smile, letting out a soft laugh. you love that he's vulnerable enough to chuckle at a small mishap rather than him getting frustrated. he's too damn cute. you can barely handle it.
h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
sweet matty knows you love going down on him (which he thanks his lucky stars is a real thing as he cannot get enough of your lips around him) so he tries to keep himself trimmed down there. you couldn't care less tbh but it's cute and rather hot to see him that invested in thinking of what will be best for you and your pleasure. funny enough, you would've never thought he did so given his current nonchalant way of dressing (baggy clothes, torn band shirts, messy gelled hair). but this boy does like to keep you guessing after all.
i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
he cannot possibly be close enough to you (re. his favourite position being you riding him). you are his world and will hopefully always be, even if he had to wait what felt like a lifetime to finally have you romantically and sexually. both of you prefer slow and sweaty sex whenever possibly, filled with lots of sweet words and love you's and him nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck while you run your fingers through his hair. he's a shy horny romantic at heart.
j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)
our boy here has undoubtedly gotten off at the thought of you many, many times before you get together. whether it is him reminiscing about a certain memory and/or looking at photos of you, he's certainly done it. he's also been caught by adam when he's not-so-silently moaning your name while he's no-so-silently jacking off during tour. but because adam is a sweet soul and understands the hardships of missing the person you love, he doesn't give him too much grief over it (unless matty is getting on his nerves).
now, when you do end up together, there's a time when the two of you are high (you do that a lot), giggly, care-free and the topic of masturbation comes up for some reason. this is when it is confessed that you both had (obviously) gotten off at the thought of each other pre-dating and that ends up turning both of you on to the point where one of you suggests if you can watch each other do it. so that happens and mutual masturbation continues to be thing in your relationship.
and of course, matty still masturbates many times while he's away because you end up sending him short snippets of you pleasuring yourself. so he cannot help himself.
k = kink (one or more of their kinks)
it’s all about praising. he loves it. you love it. it's a win win situation for both parties involved and it couldn't be more perfect. because he can sometimes get nervous, your praises make him feel at ease. call him a sweet boy (his fav) and you’ll have him at your mercy. on the other hand, if you refer to him as a good boy, he will almost devour you alive.
one summer you were playing fetch with mayhem in the park “aww! who’s a good, sweet boy!?” and for some reason matty started chocking on the coke he was drinking “are you okay?” “yeah yes. cough. ‘s nothing. wrong pipe” “hm, okay if you say so.” five minutes pass and mayhem is cuddling with you while you scratch his ear “such a sweet, pretty baby boy, aren’t you mayhem? yes, of cour—wtf matthew, are you sure you’re alright?” you look back at him as he’s trying to aggressively clean the coke he spat out and landed on the crotch of his pants. after that you notice that he not-so-subtly tries to readjust his baggy jeans ever so often. you get a sneaky suspicion of what might’ve happened, but it isn’t until you are together for a few months that you test out your theory and praise him and he literally comes undone seconds after the words leave your mouth. he’s almost too much <3
l = location (favourite places to do the do)
vanilla answer, but your bed. the fact that he can have you in the place where you sleep just drives him crazy with lust. it's your space. it smells like you. you spend endless hours there resting, facetiming him, watching tv, (as well as pleasing yourself). so yes, your bed is a sacred temple to matty. amen.
m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
before sex: wear any of his clothes and that's almost a sure way to get him turned on. especially his jumpers and shirts. once upon a time you two + the rest of the band went swimming. after you got tired of everyone cannonballing into the pool (because they're grown men boys), you stepped out and wanted to get out of your wet swimsuit asap because you hate the feeling of wet clothes on your skin. without really thinking, you just grabbed his jeff buckley shirt (i love jeff buckley btw), put it on, and since it is way larger on you that it is on him, you thought "lalalala i'm just gonna remove my swimsuit here since this shirt is roomy and no one will be able to see anything." as you're doing so, george has matty in some sort of headlock (because, again, boys) but as he's struggling to get out of it, his eyes end up in your direction as you're pulling the suit bottoms down. this makes him tense up and freeze in place, so now george has the upper-hand and submerges him underwater. when matty comes back to the surface, he's outta breath, huffing and puffing, and none made easier because (unbeknownst to you) your wet body and swimsuit have made his white jeff buckley shirt see though. and since then he cannot get enough of you wearing anything of his.
during sex: pull on his hair when you're riding him and it's game over. he'll immediately get a goofy toothy grin on his face while bitting his bottom lip and adoringly look at you thru half lidded eyes as if there is nothing better in this life (because of course, nothing compares 2 u).
n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
absolutely nothing that could possibly hurt you too seriously. you two eventually get into some harsher tendencies and kinks, but it's always consensual. he'd never forgive himself if he caused you unwanted pain.
o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
he absolutely loves both. he swears there is no better feeling than having your warm mouth around him but he's never too pushy or needy about it. you of course enjoy it too, but the best part about it is just seeing him come undone as he gets loud, sweaty, and shaky which is a sight you'll never grow tired of. and as mentioned on letter b above, he enjoys your cunt A LOT so he'll never miss an opportunity to go down on you. that tongue of his? unreal. but he's definitely noticed that your favourite is when he sucks on your clit so he spends majority of the time doing that. imagine you sitting on the edge of your bed, him shirtless kneeling down with your legs over his shoulders, and his head between your legs while his lips are wrapped around you, gently sucking and licking while you gently pull on his hair and tell him he's your sweet boy. it's heaven for the both of you.
p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
more often than not, it’s slow and sensual as that’s something that both of you really enjoy. from one romantic to another, you cannot get enough of the passionate sex.
HOWEVER, fast and rough comes into play whenever he gets jealous as he cannot help himself. but it's not in a hard, mean dom type of way. more in a "i'm all yours. i want to make you feel so damn good and please you so you don't look at anyone else. please do anything you want with me" type of way. the first time he ever wants to have rough sex, he acts all shy and nervous when asking you if it's okay as it's not his norm. but you're there to guide him through and make it easy for him. <3
q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
not really your or his thing, tbh. reason being that if you have sex, it never ends up being quick. you'd much rather be late to the event or appointment than to rush it. the amount of times he's been late to soundcheck is alarming, but it's not like they can kick him out of the band, right? one time when he walks into the rehearsal, flustered and with hair all over the place, he sees george about to mock him but matty beats him to the punch. "before you even fucking start, yes, i was having sex before this. yes, it was amazing. yes, i know i'm late again. that's it. i'm sorry. let's carry on." but the thing is that a sexually satisfied matty = amazing gigs, so the others cannot fault him.
r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
he’s down to try anything but only if you discuss it first so both of you are comfortable. again, he may look and act shy most of the time (especially with people he doesn't know too well) but he's known you for years so he's super comfy with you, thus he's game to do anything which might bring you pleasure as long as he doesn't seriously hurt you (as mentioned in letter n) because he wouldn't be able to deal with causing you any sort of lasting pain.
s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
tbh one of the other main reasons he goes to the gym (see letter x) is so he can last longer for you. you both have insatiable sex drives (see letter y) so he wants to keep fit in order to try and fulfill any and all desires you might have. once you get together, it's no secret to any of your friends that you have a VERY active sex life that they can only dream of and matty loves to remind them that they’re just jealous when they do make fun of him for it. he’s cute.
t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
he didn’t think much about them at first UNTIL that one night he was over at your place and opened up your bedside drawer, hehehe. so hear me out... our boy loves getting high (especially with you) so he asked if you had any weed as he very surprisingly (i know, i'm shocked, too) forgot his own. you just looked at him with wide eyes like “whoa, wait. you forgot? are you okay?” while you jokingly felt his forehead to see if he was ill. he gently swatted your hand away and squinted in mock annoyance, “fuck off... but really, do you have any?” :insert big brown caramel puppy eyes: you motioned over to your bedroom and told him that your stash was in the drawer of your bedside table. he struts over, nonchalantly, humming a tune that’s been stuck in his head since that morning because you’d been listening to it nonstop. he gets to your room, stares at your comfy bed wishing he could sleep with you, in both senses of the word, because he's head over heels for you. he'd do anything and everything you'd ask him faster than the words could even leave your mouth. he sighs, knowing that couldn't happen because you weren't his gf :( anyway, he bends over to open the top drawer of your left bedside table and start shuffling around to find nothing but books, notebooks, photos (including one of him napping, awe). he moves on to the second drawer to find a black lidded box which he opens and to his surprise (or dismay) finds your toys which causes him to almost drop the box altogether. his eyes gaze over each of the vibrators and other small devices in there and he cannot help but think of you using them on yourself. siiiiiiiiigh. a "did you find it, matty?" is screamed by you which causes him to instantly come back down reality. the box is put away and he speed walks out of the room, heading straight for the kitchen to get a glass of water to hopefully rehydrate his desert dry throat after his discovery. "well, did you find it?" "nope, changed my mind. don't want any weed. i'm okay. i'll just drink my water. here. in the kitchen." when in reality he was standing behind the bar so you couldn't see how rock hard he was. fast forward to right before you go to bed that night, you want to get yourself off so you go to find your fav toy when you see that the box is on a weird angle with the lid not fully closed. then it dawns on you why matty had to very abruptly leave that evening.
BUT ANYWAY, after you get together and your enjoyment for toys is out in the open, he loves using them on you which is a huge turn on for you because it shows that the seemingly shy boy is actually super confident when it comes to your sex life together.
u = unfair (how much they like to tease)
much like the cum play (see letter c), it took a bit for matty to feel comfortable enough to be a tease while you were having sex. he's not too much of a dirty talker (if you haven't noticed yet, he's a sub in this world of mine, sorry) BUT he eventually finds out that you love begin edged. so yeah, he has fun with that, going down on you over and over again until you are screaming.
v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
poor matty tries to stifle his moans, whimpers, and any other sounds that come out of his mouth but it doesn't work well for him as he always ends up being the loudest out of the two of you. this is another thing his bandmates always tease him about, as they can always hear when he's getting off on the tour bus or having sex with you in another room. and this is another instance where he reminds his mates that they're just jealous because of his amazing sex life.
w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
remember how i said i have a type and he's a chain wearing matty? well, once you both start having sex, he very quickly finds out you fucking love pulling on that chain to bring him closer to you. he also notices how you tend to kiss around the area where in sits around his neck. your obsession about it becomes 100% confirmed when he sees that the background of your phone is a photo of him shirtless but still wearing that silver chain. so he knows that he always has to wear it, a quiet sign that you control him. but one morning after his shower, he comes running to the living room, huffing and puffing that he cannot find his necklace until he looks at you. you just smirk and wink at him when he sees the chain around you. oh, he doesn't know what he's in for.
x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
he once heard you say how you were starting to find "more conventional, muscular men" attractive so he took this as his cue to immediately look up the number of the best and closest personal trainer he could hire. fast forward six months and you're at his flat, drinking and listening to music with the band. who knows what happens (probably george's fault) but matty ends up spilling his glass of wine all over his shirt. UGH. "fuck me. it's embarrassing how many clothing items i've ruined 'cause of this expensive habit." you laugh loudly at him, obviously, but karma gets you once he takes off his ruined top so he's just standing there in his dangerously low rise grey joggers. that shuts you up as you just stare at the muscles on his back and the mostly defined v shape above his crotch. matty leaves the room to get a clean shirt without noticing you basically drooling over him. however, perceptive handsome ross does pick up on the vibes and teases you for the remainder of the evening.
y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
high. higher than anyone you've ever been with and you're thankful for it. albeit it is PAINFUL when he's away on tour for months at a time, especially when you cannot go and see him :( no matter how many photos or videos you send each other, it's never enough to satiate you desire to have him close to you. the only silver lining is when you both do end up back together, as you both know you won't be sleeping that night and won't be going anywhere else the day after.
z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
once the soft making out session is done (see letter a), he's gone. he's a sleeper. he's a napper. he's the big spoon and holds you close, lazily kissing the back of your neck before he settles himself against it. again, he's all about that close contact, gotta love him. but give him 3 minutes MAX and he'll be out. a tired boy has to rest, i guess <3
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ALRIGHT. that's enough for me rambling. not sure if anyone will see this but my mind feels about 12% lighter for now. until the next brain rot takes over.
if you happened to make it this far, you're a gem. thank you. you're the best. and i'm always free to talk about this man and smutty thoughts about him!
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jungwnies · 9 months
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syn ' how enhypen interacts with their shy s/o (for all my shy ones out there! this is how'd they would act with you and treat you) genre ' fluff
gn!reader x bf!enhypen
requested (went a little lengthy with hoon's but, deserved.)
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이희승 ' lee heeseung
he's sweet
but he teases
he's calls you his shy little baby
for funsies
but he never actually degrades you for it
he thinks you're cute
and he's the type to order your food for you and know what you want so you can avoid those interactions too
always holds your hand in public
and reassures you all the time
he just jokes from time to time but he never means any ill intent
박종성 ' park jay
he alllwaaaysssss reassures you
he reminds you that it's okay to be shy
and that you don't have to be the most extroverted or outgoing person because he loves you
you guys are the perfect balance of e and i
he holds your hand
kisses your forehead
and reminds you everything is alright when you start to feel shy/nervous
he's always there for you
and eases any of your worries
just like he promises
심재윤 ' sim jake
he's also so sweet
he's not the biggest extrovert
but he's outgoing
but he understands you
and your shyness
he thinks it's cute
loves how your cheeks heat up when he flirts with you
loves how you get when he's getting a little flirtatious
it makes him go absolutely crazy
he also reassures you
his kisses, his hugs, he makes sure you feel safe with him
you will ALWAYS feel safe with jake <3
박성훈 ' park sunghoon
he's also a shy person
so it's just a big mess when you two talk to each other
he triessss to be confident and flirt with you
but you guys both end up like giggling kids
a hot mess i tell you! a hot mess!
but it's cute
it's wholesome
the way he holds your hand
the way he plays with your fingers instead of his own
dating you was the best thing for him
because the level of understanding the two of you have for each other is out of this world
he's teases you but it turns into the both of you teasing each other about how shy you both get about certain things
he tells you that it doesn't matter how shy you are
because he loves you no matter one
he doesn't get sappy 24/7 but when he notices the little giveaways that you're nervous and or shy, then he gets sappy.
just to remind you that you aren't alone
and he will always be there for you
김선우 ' kim sunoo
god he is just a ball of joy
and i love that for you
because you guys are polar opposites
he orders your food
he takes you out
he does all the social interactions so that you don't have to
and he doesn't get tired of it
and he loves talking
his talking comforts you because you don't really talk as much
but you talk, obviously.
he always calls you his soulmate
the one that balances him
and he always reminds you that it's okay to be shy
because you have him anyways
and he will always be there to ease your anxieties
양정원 ' yang jungwon
HE'S ALSO SO SHY
BUT NOT SHY SHY
HE'S JUST
SHY?
you both don't like ordering food
or interacting with strangers
but you guys are so not shy when you guys are alone
you guys tease each other so much about how you act in public
and then proceed to continue to act like that
you guys are two goof balls
it's so cute
he's playful with you, but loving
when you're super shy he will comfort you and vice versa
but with him you don't feel shy
you are your true self
西村 力 ' nishimura riki
another pair of goof balls right here
you haveeee to be the most shy extrovert honestly
he notices this about you
how you're shy at first but suddenly become the loudest one in the room when you're around the right people
he reminds you in public that it's okay
and it's okay to be shy
but he also is the one to tell you to imagine everyone is in their underwear so that you get less nervous or shy
has the stupidest yet most cute ways to remind you that you're not alone
and never bullies you and makes fun of you for being shy
he's thinks it's super cute
but he also doesn't admit he thinks it's cute
he just smiles so widely when he notices your shy manners
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stinkysam · 1 month
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Lucifer Morningstar - Past.
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Warning : none
Genre : angst
Synopsis : “Lucifer discovers why you're in hell.”
Reader : he/you
A/N : haven't written anything in months so I'm a bit ugh rusty hope it's good !
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Lucifer didn't know how you landed in hell and he often wondered about it.
After all, you were one of the nicest soul he met and nothing in your behavior or stories about your life on earth explained anything about it.
So to him, you simply must've done a little thing that didn't please heaven. Heaven could be really strict with their rules.
But you were on the path to redemption ! You stayed at Charlie's hotel to redeem yourself from whatever small harm you did on earth. And if Charlie's plan works, you would go right where you belong, in heaven.
Easy peasy lemon squeezy !
Sure, Lucifer would miss you, and be sad to not have you around anymore, but if it's heaven you want, then who is he to stop you from getting it. You deserve it, he's sure of that.
He even had prepared a duck that looks just like him, for you, so you don’t forget him once you're in the sky. And one for him, that looks just like you, so he'd never forget about you. Not that it would ever happen.
He was so excited he even told you about it one day as you visited his place, but hadn't shown you the duckies in question, claiming you could only see them the day you would leave for heaven.
You leaned forward and wrapped your arms around him, kissing his cheek, trying to peek over his shoulder and into his office to spot them. But he quickly realized what you were doing and kicked the door closed with his foot, his arms holding you close against him.
You laughed, squeezing him tightly as he did the same thing, both trying to knock the wind out of each other's lungs for fun.
“You can't win.” He said with a wheeze, squeezing you harder.
You had to tap his shoulder to get him to stop, admitting your defeat with a sigh, relieved to not have crushed ribs.
You kissed his forehead as Lucifer looked proudly at you.
“You still can't see them.” He pointed and you grimaced with a groan.
Lucifer loves you, truly. It had taken time and patience but now he was sure of it and confident in his feelings for you. He looked at you smugly, his pointy teeth showing as placed his hand on the small of your back, making you walk with him.
-
Since he had rekindled with his daughter, he would come unannounced to visit her and get updates on how things are going. Trying his best to avoid Alastor who seemed to enjoy having him here. Only to get under his skin each time he had the occasion.
When he wasn't annoying him about Charlie, it was about you. And today seemed to be about you.
“I know something you don't.” The radio demon smiled, tilting his head to the side pointing toward you. But the king of hell didn't seem to notice.
“Ah ?” Lucifer’s eyebrows rose, not that he was particularly interested. “And what makes you think I-”
“About [Name].” Cut him off Alastor with a sing-song voice as he approached you at the bar. At Lucifer’s silence, the demon continued. “I know why he is in hell ~” He wrapped an arm around you, his claws like fingers almost planting in your shoulder.
You turned around to look at Alastor, confused and nervous. He wasn't… going to tell him, right ? But Alastor turned you so you would face Lucifer.
Lucifer wanted to respond that he didn't care what you did, he knew you and knew you did nothing horrible or truly bad, but upon seeing your nervous stare, he looked at you instead, silently. He had nothing to worry about, so why are you looking at him that way ?
Alastor leaned closer to you, his arm still wrapped around you.
“Tell him. Isn't honesty part of the process of redemption ?” His smile only grew as his eyes squinted, his claws feeling heavier against your shoulder.
Lucifer seemed confused, not understanding why you would be so nervous. You didn't do anything… right ?
“What… did you do ?” He finally asked, placing his hand on top of yours, wanting to reassure you that he was with you no matter what.
Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest, sweat appearing on your skin.
You knew what Lucifer thought of the sinners, how he hated what they did with the free will he gave them… What you did with it.
You hadn't planned to befriend him or to fall for him but you couldn't help it. The fallen angel was just so lovable, you couldn't avoid him eternally and ended up getting closer and closer.
You knew one day this would happen, he would learn the truth about you. But you hoped that being in the Hazbin Hotel would help you. Help him know you were not the same person as you were on earth.
“I was hum… I- erm…” You looked away and back at Lucifer, following your eyes. “I was a… a serial killer.” You say with a nervous smile, the last part was barely audible, but sadly, it was loud enough to be heard by the king of hell.
Lucifer froze. His eyes showed pure shock and it even seemed like he was getting pale. His reassuring smile was gone.
“You're joking, right ?” He manages to say. “This is not really funny.” He adds with a nervous laugh. But you avoided his eyes, too ashamed to look at him.
He pulled his hand away from yours and looked away. He wanted to say something to try and be nice, but he couldn't. You didn't deserve any niceties.
Lucifer quickly glanced at Alastor and glared at him. The radio demon had won this round.
You tried to speak, to explain yourself, why you didn't tell him sooner or even why you did what you did, but he stopped you. He didn't want to hear your excuses.
You could only watch as he walked away, disappointment and sadness evident on his face as Charlie followed him, confused.
Back at his palace, Lucifer couldn't stop staring at the duck he made of you. Squeezing it lightly between his fingers.
He felt betrayed and stupid for believing you were innocent, just another victim of heaven’s rules, when you far more earned to be here, in hell.
He was heartbroken. He couldn't believe he had let you get this close to him.
With ache in his heart, Lucifer fell asleep on his desk, the duck he made of you resting in his palm.
When he woke up, the ducky was still in his hand, and he looked at it sadly. He didn't know what to think.
On one hand, he should've expected something like that, it was his fault for thinking you being in hell was a mistake. But on the other hand, you had been so nice and understanding, patient and open-minded toward him, Charlie and the others. How was he supposed to guess you used to be a serial killer ?
He let go of the duck to place his head in his hands, sighing.
Lucifer loves you, he really does. But it's a hard to swallow pill you gave him.
He wants to hope you've changed. You're no longer the person you were on earth. After all, you're at Charlie's hotel to redeem yourself, right ? That must mean something.
He spends the next few days ignoring you, not that you had sent him any messages except “I'm sorry.”. You chose to give him space and time to think and decide what to do and he was glad you did.
You were anxious. Watching the last message you sent multiple times a day, hoping to get an answer, anything other than “read”. But you didn't push your luck, afraid he might block you entirely.
Lucifer didn't really know what to do, hesitating between messaging you and calling you or continuing to ignore you.
He clicked on the “call” icon and instantly panicked. Shit, what was he supposed to say ? Before he could hang up, your voice was heard.
“Hello ?”
A few seconds of silence followed as he stared at his screen before finally answering.
“Hello ! Yeah, [Name] ! Can we- can we talk ?” He said biting his lips, one hand anxiously pulling with his bow-tie.
“Yeah, sure ! Yeah.” You quickly replied, standing up automatically. “Where do you want to talk ?” You ask, sitting back down.
He thought for a moment.
“Hum… Why not the hotel. It seems… appropriate. Right ?” He smiled nervously and you could hear it in his voice. “I'll be here in a… uh… hour ?”
“Okay !” You exclaimed, standing up once more, earning a few stares from your friends.
When you both hung up, Lucifer was more stressed than anything. He tried some pep talk in front of different mirrors, preparing himself for what he would say to you. You mainly did the same thing but with Angel and Husk plus Charlie who was great at pulling your self-esteem out of the gutter.
You were determined in making Lucifer understand you had changed and had abandoned your murdery tendencies long ago. It was true after all.
Lucifer was holding his breath as he knocked at the door, anxiously waiting for someone to open it. He contemplated flying away from it but he straightened up as the door swung open.
It was you.
You adorned the same nervous and awkward smile as Lucifer as you welcomed him in. Closing the door behind him and quickly following him.
He was giving you another chance and you were not going to miss it. It's with determination you nodded at your friends, letting them know you were okay and could deal with it.
You patiently listened to each other as you both talked about your feelings and your time on earth. Why you wanted to go to heaven.
Turns out, you don't particularly want to go to heaven, you just wanted to do your redemption, and Charlie's hotel was perfect for that.
“I would understand if you don't want anything to do with me anymore…” You said, looking down.
“No, I-” He places his hands on your cheeks, making you look at him. “Let's try again, shall we ?”
Your brows are furrowed in confusion and he puts his left hand in front of you.
“I'm Lucifer. Charlie's dad.” He says with a proud smile. “And you ?” His smile softens, waiting for your answer.
It takes you a few seconds to catch on and grab his hand, shaking it lightly.
“I'm [Name]. Nice to meet you.”
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4ngel-inc · 2 months
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・.˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆ SIGMA — 𝓓𝓘𝓓 𝓨𝓞𝓤 𝓕𝓐𝓛𝓛 𝓕𝓡𝓞𝓜 𝓣𝓗𝓔 𝓢𝓚𝓨? ᰔ
summary — sigma doesn't know how he ended up here, in his room with you after a night dealing you cards at the casino, he just knows he wants to savor the moment and feel all of you.
tags — [ MDNI / 18+ ], fem reader, dominant reader, very inexperienced sigma, loss of (sigma's) virginity, 1k words.
"i-i'm not very experienced," sigma pulls away from your lips, pulling a little whimper from you as he does, but he simply feels the need to confess to you first, not wanting to disappoint you with his lack of experience.
he'd only been your dealer at the casino earlier in the night, he's not quite sure how he ended up here, gently pinning you against his bedroom door as he kisses you the way he can only assume you want to be kissed—he isn't really sure what he's doing, but this feels right. this is his first kiss, will be his first everything, he doesn't want to fail.
"oh? i'm so sorry, did you not want to do this? we don't have to," there's a kindness in your eyes, but also a look that reminds him of pity, and that hurts his pride a little.
"n-no, trust me, i want this more than anything," he takes your hands in his, but looks down at them with hesitancy, "i just wanted to tell you, i don't want to disappoint you." sigma hates the way his voice shakes, the way insecurities he buries each day suddenly rise to the surface and threaten to suffocate him.
"you'll do great, i promise," you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck again, and sigma finally lets himself relax under your touch, groaning at the taste of your lips and how soft your skin feels under his fingers. he'll let himself get lost for once, just this once—he deserves it anyways, right? he's been working himself to the bone lately.
you trace your fingers up his waist, and he shivers. "even that feels good, no one has ever touched me like that."
you laugh, "did you just fall from the sky? didn't you say you're in your late-twenties?"
"28," he responds bluntly, "but, i- uh, i'm pretty busy with work, you know."
you smile, "i wouldn’t have guessed you're inexperienced- oh, not that there's anything wrong with that, not at all!" he senses your anxiety, probably thinking you've offended him, so he pulls you in.
"it's fine, i didn't take it that way- i'm sure i seem rather confident on the casino floor, but that's. . . not who i really am," he sighs.
"well, i think i like your softer nature more, anyways- it turns me on, how kind you are, aside from being so stern at work." you squeeze his waist, pressing your fingers deeper. "i'm sure the manager of the biggest casino in the world doesn't have much time for fun anyways, yeah?"
he nods, and you lean in, biting his lip a little. "nnhhh, that feels good," his eyes close as he groans at the feeling of your teeth grazing against his lip. ah, so he likes a little pain, maybe he's more on the submissive side?
"why don't we just kiss for a while? how does that sound?" despite his confession, sigma is still quite nervous, so your offer certainly appeals to him. "we can take our clothes off later," you laugh, and he does the same, feeling more warm and comfortable with you as the minutes pass.
you lead him to the bed, and his heart races when you ask him to lay down. "just relax? it's only kissing, is that ok?"
"yes," he wishes he could tell you how much he wants this. "YES," he repeats.
"don't try to be someone else, just be yourself, sigma. you're gorgeous. you're perfect."
as he lays down for you, he boldens a little at your praise, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip, and he wonders what your mouth might feel like elsewhere. he's a little ashamed of his lewd thoughts, but that's where this is going, anyways, right? you suck on his finger instinctually and he groans, you almost think he's going to cum then and there, the way his legs tremble despite the fact you've barely touched him yet.
as you kiss his lips tenderly again, interlacing your fingers with his and squeezing his palm in yours, he groans a little more desperately, running his hands all over your body and squeezing everywhere he can.
after a few minutes of making out, sigma boldens a little, "s-should we take our clothes off now?" he isn't sure it's the right question, the right time, but it feels right.
your dreamy eyes are on him again, brushing his hair from his eyes, and it makes his heart race, "you're handsome, your hair is so pretty." he laughs at that. "come here, baby- suck on my tits," his eyes widen, watching you lift your shirt and pinch and tug on your nipples, "right here."
"o-oh, okay," his hands tremble as he grips your breast, gently flicking his tongue over your nipple and gauging your reaction. "i like this," he squeezes both of your breasts, a little too harsh for your liking, but you'll teach him how later. "i like this," he repeats, "you're so soft, every part of you feels so good."
it isn't long before sigma has one hand on each of your thighs, pushing them back and lapping at your cunt—you can tell by the look in his eyes he's waiting for your praise, desperate for your approval. he realizes, you're the only person he doesn't mind using him, especially for something like this.
sigma is a fast learner, lifting the hood of your clit with his thumb as he flicks his tongue over your sensitive bud, your moans growing louder than before as your head rolls back. he unconsciously pulls away and smiles at that before diving back in, heart swelling at the sound of his name leaving your lips.
"oh yes, baby, you're doing so good- wanna put your tongue in my pussy? c'mon baby, taste my pussy while i cum, 'm close," you continue riding his face, grinding your clit against his tongue as he moans and groans and whimpers, cumming all over his face as he begs you for more.
sigma isn't sure what he's begging for, he just knows he wants to feel all of you.
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merakiui · 3 months
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hold up chubby azul?? seducing chubby azul in da club??? ELABORATE!!!!!
You have no idea how much I love chubby Azul. He's everything to me. OTL the twins probably persuaded (dragged) him to the club because he spends so much time working. Even when he's socializing (read: networking), he's still in work mode. He deserves to relax for one night! But Azul's just not sure of this. He's never gone to a club before (at least not the type the twins are dragging him to) and for good reason (or so his self-deprecating mind thinks). He wouldn't fit in at these establishments. He doesn't look the part, and he's not at all confident enough to put himself out there. He's positive dating is an impossibility; he knows this because he's tried and failed. Who would want a fat, clumsy thing like him? He's so self-conscious and hateful of himself.
But somehow, notwithstanding his insecurities, he's allowed himself to go tonight, to get dressed up in a nice outfit and endure it solely because, deep down, he wants this experience. Sort of. His bravado is withering.
His plan is to just stick to the wall and hope no one pays him any mind. And it works, mostly. He's not interesting or attractive enough to enchant anyone. The twins linger long enough to pass him a fruity, alcoholic beverage, but then they're blending into the crowd and Azul's left all alone. It's so loud and dimly lit in here, and it smells gross and sweaty. The music isn't even that good either. He's so wrapped up in his critique of the place that he doesn't notice you at first. You've sidled up next to him, holding a half-empty drink of your own. And sevens you're so good-looking. You look like an angel.
Azul is immediately suspicious. What are you doing here? He starts to tell you that if you're looking for his friends you just missed them. But you shake your head and smile, saying you're here for him. And he tries to tamp down the nervous excitement that bubbles in his chest because there's no way you're genuinely interested in him. No one has ever been for reasons he thinks are obvious. He fidgets, turning his empty glass in his hands. This can't be real. You're probably just here to poke fun or get his hopes up and then dash them all at once.
So he chokes on the air when you tell him words he's never heard from anyone before: "I think you're very handsome. You're not seeing anyone, are you?"
This seriously can't be real. Is he dreaming? Is he going to wake up in the next minute and realize everything was in his head? This must be the cruelty that is wishful thinking. But he's still here moments later, perfectly lucid if not a little buzzed. He blinks back at you, utterly lost. You, a beauty more radiant than jewels, are interested in him? He's no one in this club. As far as anyone's concerned, he's just some ugly, loser wallflower. But then you're not anyone, are you?
He tells you he's not seeing anyone. He tries (and fails) to compliment you in return (even though no words could possibly encapsulate just how ensorcelled you've left him), his normally silver tongue tied in knots. You giggle a pretty, tinkling sort of sound and nudge him. And then you say, "Well, you are now. If you want."
And he agrees mindlessly, still so swept up in you. And you swap contact information. And he's sitting dazed and shocked on the ride back to his penthouse suite, wondering what in the deep, blue sea just happened. Again, he thinks he's dreaming. But it's to his pleasant surprise (and ensuing horror) when you text him the following morning, asking if he'd like to meet up.
Oh, this is actually happening. And it's not a dream.
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futureplayboibunnie · 4 months
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a little geto oneshot just to get back into the swing of writing again <3
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cult leader! geto. pillowtalk. fuckbuddies to…parents? geto getting horny over you being domestic and taking care of the twins lol. a lil angsty and fluffy x
Suguru's mind was wandering as he stared out into the horizon on the balcony, he was feeling troubled in a way that didn't alarm him but irks him. He was quietly brooding as he watched the sky darken alongside his mood. Geto had just finished fucking you, hard. His cigarette was burning out on his fingertips, he chucked it away when he felt the graininess of your fingertips smooth against his bare back, you swiped your hand against his forearm and sighed as you stood next to him, feeling the breeze flow over you.
He felt different from the Geto that you once met, the one you found about to curse an entire village to death. You made it your mission to find these young kids with powers they didn't have control over and take them under your wing, the twins that you tracked from their cursed residuals, and lo and behold, Geto was there. Circumstantial events ended up in you becoming his concubine, his little secret, but then again, you did care for the kids that you protected. It reminded him of the whole point of Jujutsu High
“Let me guess, you want the world to disappear.” He said lowly with a soft smirk, glancing at you in his button-up shirt and nothing else, the way he liked you.
You pursed your lips. “You can stay. Mimiko and Nanako too. Miguel and the others can maybe visit on the weekends, I guess.” You answered plainly, but with a hint of warmth in your voice that was enough to make your lips curl into a soft smile. Suguru chuckled, his eyes creasing slightly when he clocked your breathing. He knew something was weighing on your mind and before he could even ask, your lips twisted as you sighed. "I betrayed a lot of people over the years Geto. I told myself I was doing it to protect people.. you know, kids like the girls, hated and abused by people who don't understand them. I killed sorcerers that followed the girl's cursed residuals to keep them safe.” Your words were dampened by concern and worry.
“I was ruthless.” You tisked, reminding yourself of the brutal violence your protection provided, Geto admired that most about you. He liked it, he didn't expect anything less from you.
“You're a curse user. You did what you had to do.” He replied flatly. His expectations of you were always high, it took someone with steel in their spine to be a curse user and you had exactly that. You let out a soft breath as you spoke hesitantly.
“Truth is, I'd do it again. I told myself a thousand times that it would be for kids like Mimiko and Nanako, for them to grow up with some kind of control over their cursed energy. But maybe I did it for selfish reasons too.” Your voice was soft as you admitted your inner workings. “When I'm not killing, all I can think about is you.” Your eyes met his, nervous as the words just fell from your lips, the little flutter of your lashes caused his heart to stir, and a wave of possessiveness washed over him. Geto intertwines his hand with yours and kisses your skin.
“I won't let anything happen to you. I'll protect you.” He stated confidently and not a single part of you doubted that. He watched you sigh as you averted your gaze, your teeth caught onto your lip. Geto knew you were still hiding something.
“I should be happy right now.” You murmured. Your mind was on the girls, they'd been in Suguru's compound for months and they'd barely left it, you knew it was to keep them safe but you noticed how uninterested and unhappy they were as the days went by. They were only 8, they needed to have fun like other kids would.
“What is it ?” He holds onto your hand tighter as he glares at you intently.
“The girls are cooped up, miserable and bored. They deserve to have some freedom. We can't hide them away forever.” You breathed out, your eyebrows knitted in anticipation as you awaited Geto's response. For some reason, at this moment, he couldn't find it within himself to disagree with you. Not when you were being so...domestic. His chest tightened at the thought for a reason he couldn't put his finger on. You anticipated a long, awkward silence but that wasn't the case.
"Take them out..” He said almost instantly, that made you turn your head and look at him with surprise.
Geto didn't like taking his girls outside, Mimiko and Nanako were sensitive kids and he didn't want to jeopardize their safety for such trivial things, he needed to keep them safe in an environment that he created. But he had noticed a change in the girls, they were unhappy. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea...you taking them to the park...letting them have fun like normal kids. He wouldn't trust anyone else other than you with his girls. You were a little shocked to say the least
“If Gojo finds you...” You muttered.
“You can't keep doing this forever. You wanted to save them for a reason, let them live like children for once.”
-
Suguru kept thinking about it as he saw you leave to go play with the girls. He had to admit, he fucking loved seeing you like this, so caring and nurturing. It caused his stomach to do backflips, the idea of you taking care of his girls, like you were a doting mother. Geto loved the idea of fucking you full of his kids, as his concubine it should have been your job to carry an heir for him in the first place, but no...he wanted you all to himself first.
“Are the girls asleep?” He fixed you both a drink.
“With their muddy shoes on.” You gave him a tired half smile as you threw your coat down. You hadn’t see the girls this happy, especially by something as simple as playing in the park.
“Who else do I know that does that?” Geto glanced over at you with a smirk obviously referring to you, his chuckle was wam and so sexy. He passed you your glass and you clinked it against his, he took a swig and stared hard at you, but there was a certain tightness to him that made you question if something was weighing on his mind or not.
"You okay?'
“I was reminded of something, the way you talked about the girls. Satoru...asked me if I longed for something more, if I had any other desires if I wasn't a Jujutsu sorcerer, well, curse user now.” His voice sounded stained and unsure. “I do recall yearning for something more and I thought that my plan to create a non-sorcerer world would help me reach it. But now I feel like I've lost that feeling beyond the blood and the chaos-“ Geto was irked and a part of him was left unfulfilled for reasons he couldn’t control.
"Hey.” You grab his face with your palm, stroking away the little tufts of hair angling his face. “You're acting as if you don't have a reason for your motives. You can still have more.” Geto's eyes burned into yours, like whatever you said could affirm him or break him right now. “You've been through hell and I know you.. You can't let the bad things you did in your past define you. I know you're good. You are good.”
Geto knew that he was once good, but after all the things he's done, there's no way he could atone for it. Geto was not a good man, nor was he holy. But for you to say that he deserved to believe he was, was the closest thing to godliness he had ever felt, even being the worst curse user with the power of heaven and hell incarnate.
“No, you're good.” He said quickly as he glanced away. It felt like averting his gaze away from you made him feel like more of a man, not bendy and breakable within your hold. He sighed after a long sile moment. “What I said earlier, about you being a curse user,” He breathed out hesitantly. “You're not a curse user, you don't have a curse user's heart. There's just...too much good in you.” Geto's hand went to your face and palmed it perfectly, he caressed your hair and let his hand slip down to your jaw, and his thumb cradled your chin. “It's why I love you.” His eyes narrowed down to your lips, pulling it down with the pad of his thumb. He loved the sound of you breathing, the way your body moved, the way you knew exactly what you wanted.
Your lashes fluttered as you gave him a lazy smile, one filled with relief at the words he just uttered, but your heart was racing. You were getting shy on him now, it was cute. “I love you too.” Your voice was just above a whisper, sweet nothing's whirling around your head turned into a reality. Get pulled you into his chest and he gave you a chaste kiss on your temple, and then you leaned into his lips, his mouth was like sustenance. His mouth became greedier and hungrier, he wanted to claim what was his. Hell, maybe he wanted to watch you swell with his kid. Every king needs an heir.
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wheeboo · 4 months
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holidaze | boo seungkwan
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SYNOPSIS. in which you take your boyfriend on a holidate down the city. PAIRING. boo seungkwan x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, established relationship WARNINGS. kissing!! n just me being very whipped for him tbh :') WORD COUNT. 1.1k
notes: these r actually pics on our date guys. i took these pics of him <3 he did this for me. anyways i def didn't write this at 4am. happy holidays everyone! why r these actually the most boyfie pics ever i'm crying sobbing dying
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There's nothing more better than venturing down the city at night with the spirit of the holidays filling the air. Festive lights are hung on streetlights which cast enchanting glows on the sidewalks and reflect off the wet and icy roads. Christmas trees are scattered throughout the city, standing tall and decorated with a dazzling array of ornaments, tinsel, and twinkling lights.
There's also nothing better than spoiling your boyfriend to a little date. Seungkwan had insisted that there wasn't any need for you to pay for everything, but tonight, you were all too determined to show just how much you appreciate him, even if it means arguing who would pay for the bill at the restaurant you chose or who would buy the matching stuffed animals you spotted in a store and couldn't resist buying.
Seungkwan has done nothing but warm your heart than any gift ever could. He's already a gift to your life, and tonight is your way of reciprocating just that𑁋to make sure he feels just as cherished as he's made you feel every day, simply because he deserves it, even if he doesn't think so himself.
"Do you think they'd like it? I'm scared I got the bad scents." Seungkwan fiddles with the paper bag of scented candles in his hand, his opposite arm linked around yours as you both continue your stroll down the glittering streets.
"My parents will love it. You don't have to worry about a thing," You reassure him with a gentle smile, giving his upper arm a small squeeze. "And even if they don't, it's the thought that counts, right?"
Seungkwan grins back, the worry lines on his forehead smoothing out. The city lights seem to reflect in his eyes like twinkling stars. "You're right. I just want them to like me, you know?"
"They already love you, trust me," You assure confidently. "Just be yourself, and they'll see how amazing you are."
Seungkwan could only shyly cower his head down to your words, the cold air nipping at his cheek that he attempts to hide away. You already know he has every right to be nervous meeting your parents for the first time tomorrow, but you also know that he'll win them over with his genuine and bubbly charm, just as he won you over from the very beginning.
The two of you trail up to a set of rails overlooking the sidewalk below and the looming buildings surrounding the area. There's some distant holiday music that you could hear from the nearby stores. Seungkwan leans against the rail, releasing a breath that creates a small mist in the chilly air, a thoughtful expression travelling across his face.
Smiling to yourself, you take out your phone and snap a few candid photos of him against the backdrop of the city lights.
"Look back at me," You call, and Seungkwan turns to face you, a small smile to his face that you manage to capture before he playfully swats at your phone. "Hey, hey, wait𑁋just a few more... Okay, I'm done. See?"
He pouts when you swipe through the photos, showing him the blurry ones and the ones where he's mid-swat like a cat batting at a toy. "Oh my God, you make me look so goofy."
"But look at these ones." You show him the two where you perfectly captured him looking back at you and smiling naturally. "You gotta post these! You look so pretty."
Seungkwan just rolls his eyes and turns away to admire the lights of the city once more, biting back the shy grin to his face. As you tuck your phone away, you walk up to him, sliding an arm around his waist and leaning against the rail beside him.
And when you both turn your bodies to face each other, your eyes gazing into his, a smile crosses your face, and you can't help but to let a hand pinch his cheek, perhaps a bit more harder than intended. "You're so cute!”
"Ow," Seungkwan winces dramatically, his hand coming up to cup over yours on his face, but he doesn't take your hand away𑁋he doesn't want to𑁋and instead leans more into your touch.
You furrow a brow, noticing how cold his face feels against your hand, trailing a thumb lightly over his cheekbone. "You're freezing, Kwannie."
The warmth of your thumb seeping through the chill of Seungkwan's skin sends a shiver down his spine that had nothing to do with the winter breeze.
"Just a little," he mutters quietly. “But you feel warm."
His dark eyes are like pools of melted chocolate under the city glow. The playful banter has faded, replaced by a quiet intimacy that settled comfortably around you both. You knew you should pull away and head back to the warmth of your apartment, but something keeps you frozen to this moment𑁋to the way his gaze seems to pierce right through you and make you feel so seen.
Then a sudden urge, soft and insistent, sprouts within you.
Your smile blooms into a full, somewhat mischievous grin as you take your hand away from his face. Leaning in, you press a gentle kiss to his cheek, right on the spot your touch had warmed up moments ago. It was a soft, fleeting peck, barely more than a whisper of your lips against his skin, but it sends a jolt of electricity through you both.
Seungkwan can practically still feel the kiss lingering when you pull away, a blush creeping up his neck and painting his skin and ears with a rosy hue. The flustered look to his face was enough to send your heart into a giddy leap, and as you cup his face again, you feel it's grown significantly warmer under your touch.
"All better now," You whisper teasingly as you continue to hold Seungkwan's face gently between your hands. "Are you blushing?"
Seungkwan lets out a scoff, lightly shoving your hand away from his face. "No."
"You are."
"I'm not!"
"You are!”
"H-How can I not when you kiss me like that?"
His words make a chuckle leave your mouth, and you stretch your arms to wrap around his neck, closing the distance between your bodies. His own hands come to instinctively rest at your waist, breath hitching from the way your closeness sends another wave of warmth through him.
But before he can say anything, you lean in and press a quick kiss to his lips, catching him off-guard once more. When you pull back, there's a playful glint in your eyes, and Seungkwan is left speechless and dazed, his cheeks now an even deeper shade of red. His gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips, and he lets out a choked laugh, a mix of embarrassment and amusement.
"You're... you're really something else, you know that?" Seungkwan stammers, his fingers playing with the hem of your coat as he avoids your eyes bashfully.
You tilt your head slightly. "In a good way hopefully?"
He leans in and presses a kiss to the tip of your cold nose, his lips lingering for a moment. When he draws back, a few snowflakes land in his hair. "In the best way possible."
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peachseashell · 6 months
Note
Hi :)
Can I request Xiao and Wanderer (separately) with an autistic s/o pls? Gender neutral reader if it's possible thank you!!
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ Special to me
Xiao and Wanderer with an autistic s/o
Gender neutral reader
Genre: fluff
Warnings: food textures (sensory issues), reader is kinda emotional and Introverted, Wanderer is kinda toxic and possessive, mentions of anxiety.
Notes: I was actually so excited to write this because I love these characters and I'm also diagnosed with autism so it makes me so happy writing about something that I can easily portray! So thanks for your request ml 💕
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Xiao
- He has little knowledge of human and abilities and basically anything about them apart from they work, eat and sleep. He never really fussed over it much until he met you and learned that you're quite different from all the other mortals he's encountered.
- You have to teach him about your needs, preferences, feelings, opinions as he doesn't always understand. He's scared that he won't know what to do when you're in an emotional state because he knows you feel things differently from others.
- I feel as though Xiao is a good listener and can sit in silence while you ramble on about anything you want, even thougg he may not understand a single thing about what's coming out of your mouth. He's also learned that he needs to be careful how he words things in case you misunderstand or take his harsh words to literally.
- This may just be me, but physical touch is something I'm not particularly fond of at all and I don't know if this is an autistic thing or just me. But anyway, Xiao's more than happy to give you your own well deserved space and alone time; though sometimes he can be very touch starved in my opinion.
- However, if you don't mind affection I can see Xiao warming up to you and leaning in closer and resting on you. This affection is mostly displayed during inside areas, usually when you're both very calm. Bedtime is when you can catch him most vulnerable and cuddling up to you like a snug bug in a rug.
- Xiao understands your eating issues and that sometimes your picky. You both share the dislike of certian textures and flavours, not just food but the feel of objects as well. For example, if a blanket is too scratchy or fish is too slimey, or shoes are too squeaky. Sensory issues are probably something he has in common with you.
Wanderer
- I feel as though Wanderer is very educated on this topic. Even if he is a puppet, I think perhaps he must of come across an autistic person and became curious, therefore leading him to want to learn more about it during his time as a fatui harbinger or maybe at the Akademiya.
- 100% remembers your likes and dislikes, never forgets them; keeps a secret diary all about you because he loves you so much. Buys you things to help with fidgeting and stress whenever you're distracted and loves hearing you ramble on about the littlest and strangest topics.
- No matter how confident he may be that he can look after you. He's helpless in a situation when you're completely exhausted and panicked or upset. Lets you shout at him to be honest because he knows it's not really personally against him. This may sound cruel, but he may leave you to let it out on your own in case he upsets you even more, the best thing he thinks to do is give you space.
- Of course after he'll cook you your favourite meal and dry any spilt tears, isn't he just so dreamy? Doesn't like to admit it but he loves it when you have nobody to turn to but him because he's the only one who understands. Holds your hand when you're nervous whenever you two go out and the anxiety takes over you.
- will hunt anyone down who makes fun of you for any habits, preferences or anything you have that makes you slightly unique; he just hates people who can't accept that disabilities aren't something to joke about. he just doesn't want to see you hurt because of someones stupid opinion, it makes his non existing heart twist and break.
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starphasedd · 1 year
Text
Ghost receiving his first Christmas gift.
Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!reader one-shot. (slightly nsfw at the end, but mostly fluff.)
Dunno why, but I headcannon that Simon hasn't received a Christmas gift since he was like five years old.
___
The holidays were never really a big deal in the 141. There were no decorations, no Christmas music--nothing. Except for the Christmas dinner.
If the squad was lucky enough to be home on Christmas Eve, Price would throw a small party and require everybody to attend. It wasn't anything special. He would order chinese takeout for everyone. You and the rest of your squad members would gather at a makeshift dinner table and eat chinese, taking time to relax and enjoy the evening off.
Soap and Price would be sitting back in their chairs, feet propped up on the table. Idle chatter would fill the empty warehouse, voices echoing off each other in the brisk winter air. Soap would occasionally look over at you and laugh when you failed to pick up a piece of chicken with your chopsticks. Those utensils weren't part of your culture and it was evident.
Ghost sat across from you, the lid still sealed on his serving of takeout. He's sitting back in his seat, strong arms crossed over his chest. From here, it looks like his eyes could be closed--maybe he's getting some well-deserved rest.
You're becoming slightly nervous the longer you look at him. Ghost has been your close teammate and superior for over two years now. The two of you have been through so much together. Endless nights and days you have spent by his side, admiring his techniques and laughing at his terrible jokes. You've seen the best and worst in him, loving both for what they are.
He was comfortable with you--you'd like to think. One cold night on a mission not long ago, he divulged some of his past to you.
It had been a particularly tough mission where both of you had gotten injured. When helping you patch a wound, he found an old scar just under your collarbone. You've never been one to dredge up your past. You never wanted your colleagues to pity you. But when he asked, you answered--for some reason. You told him the gruesome story behind the scar, pouring that part of your torturous past out before him. Making yourself vulnerable to him.
He listened in silence as he patched your wound. When he was done, he sat down next to you and sighed. That's when he gave you a sliver into his own past. Maybe he admired how open you had been for him--having absolutely no obligation to tell him when he asked. Maybe he felt like for once, he wasn't alone. Maybe he wanted to make you feel better. Regardless, that night he told you a few stories about his life growing up.
You felt incredibly upset for him, wondering how anyone could treat a little boy like that.
The stories he told you in confidence made you like him even more. For a man who grew up in such awful conditions to devote his entire adult life to bringing down people like his farther to make the world a better place--it was absolutely astounding to you. You always admired him. But something changed that night when he sat there with you. You started to see him differently.
You started to fall in love with him.
Your hand rubs over the outside of your thigh, where a small gift sits in the pocket of your jeans.
After a few more minutes, you see Ghost get up from his seat and make his way out of the large warehouse door. Your heart pounds as you watch him leave.
A small gift for Ghost burns a hole in your pocket as you hear his heavy footsteps recede. You watch his shadow start to disappear. For a moment, you space out. You glance down at the bulge in your pocket. All you can hear now is your own breathing as you consider getting up and chasing the lieutenant down.
Now or never.
Your legs drop and push, scooting your chair back from the table. You stand and proceed to follow Ghosts footsteps out of the warehouse. When you reach the door, you glance to your left and see him leaning up against the side of the building. He hears you coming--you get a glance of him pulling a cigarette out of his mouth and pulling his mask down.
You turn on your heel and start to approach him slowly.
"Those are bad for you, ya know." You say with a gentle, teasing smile.
His head turns, and he watches you approach slowly until you're right next to him. He towers over you, neck craned down to look at you. A scoff leaves his lips.
"How are your arteries feeling after eating all that greasy chicken, sergeant?"
You laugh, both hands coming back to slip into the butt pockets of your jeans.
"I know you'll scarf all yours down when nobody is looking." You say.
He chuckles deep from within his chest, head turning away from you to glance up at the night sky. His large hands slide into the pockets on his jeans.
You move to rest your back on the building next to him. Your hand reaches into the pocket with his gift inside and pulls it out slowly. A red hue dusts your cheeks as you glance down at the gift. Your breath gets caught in your throat.
"I have something for you, sir." You say in a soft tone.
His head turns to look down at you, eyes half lidded. Probably from lack of sleep.
You bring the gift up and cradle it in both hands for a moment before handing it over to him. One large hand sneaks from his jean pocket to grab the object from your smaller hands. He inspects it quietly.
"It's not much. But I thought you might like them."
The gift is not wrapped. So he can tell what the item is right away. In his palm rests a pair of gloves. Thick, leather gloves. He brings his other hand up and pulls the gloves apart from the packaging.
"They're heated. And water proof--" you say softly. "--that night. When we...talked. Your hands were freezing and damp. That must have been uncomfortable for you."
He glances down at you through the hard part of his mask for a moment and then back at the new pair of gloves in his hands.
"I hope these help." You whisper.
He doesn't speak, and that makes you anxious. Your face is still bright red, and your fingers start to fidget nervously with the zipper on your jacket. For a moment, you think you may have overstepped. But then you hear something quiet come from underneath his mask.
"Thank you."
You huff a small breath of relief and smile. "It's no problem, sir."
He continues to examine the gift in his hands--like he hasn't received anything like this in a long time. He takes a few moments before he glances back down at you.
"Can I give you something in return, sergeant?" He asks, his english accent complimenting his deep baritone.
Before you have time to answer, his back is coming off the building. He turns to stand tall in front of you. His large form is cornering you against the cold metal siding of the warehouse.
Your eyes catch his and they stay locked as he steps closer.
"Close your eyes." He whispers.
You don't argue. Slowly, your eyes flutter closed for him. You can hear him shuffling, the sound of fabric being moved. A soft moan escapes your lips when you feel a large bare hand cup your jaw. His thumb strokes your chin and he leans forward, hot breath fanning over your lips.
Your knees almost buckle when you feel his hot tongue come out and graze over your lower lip. Your hands come up to rest on his chest when his lips finally connect with yours. A groan falls from his mouth to yours at the contact. His tongue invades your mouth with vigorous intent to dominate yours.
He brings his body closer to yours, his massive thigh sliding between your legs to hold your squirming body still. One large hand stays on your neck, while the other ghosts around to your middle back and arches you towards him. Your fingers dig into the fabric of his black hoodie as you share this intimate moment with him.
You could be caught at any moment, but you don't care. And neither does he. He twists his head to the other side to kiss into your mouth slowly and sensually. You stay submerged in the depths of his lips for what seems like forever, only coming up for desperate gasps of air.
When you come up for the second time, he groans when you arch closer to him.
"Simon--" you moan softly. "--can you move that gun? It's poking the shit out of my leg."
A single, breathy laugh leaves his lips. He gives you another deep kiss before dropping his head to your right ear.
"That's not a gun, love." He whispers.
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