#Reason 1. SO. DAMN. CUTE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thecherrypittttttt · 2 months ago

Text

II HANDS II HEAVEN; dr jack abbot x dr!reader

words: 5,800+

content warnings: lowkey SO filthy, but also SO cute, banter, caretaker jack, yearning jack, tad bit angsty, patient does die at some point, may be my favorite one i have written

notes: because dr jack abbot has two hands and boy does he know how to use them

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

“Have you two kissed and made up yet?” Bridget asks, eyeing them.

“In his dreams.”

“In his dreams.” Jack imitates mockingly, high pitched.

“You know, for an old man, you have a lot of growing up to do.”

She can tell by the amused look dancing on Jack’s face that he is about to imitate her words again.

She raises a finger just as his mouth opens, “Don’t-“ she presses her finger to his chest, “you dare.”

His head tilts down. His gaze follows her finger, falling right into her trap. She quickly trails her nail back up over his chin then his lips and finally, flicking him in the nose.

She is cracking up laughing. Bridget is too. And Jack is pretending to be annoyed. “Oh and I’m the one who needs to grow up?!”

“You guys need to get a room. Preferably Trauma 1 because we have a patient incoming.” Bridget shoos them away from her nurses station, a grin still playing on her lips as she shoves two gowns into Jack’s outstretched hands.

Once inside Trauma 1, Jack grabs her arm. He signals for her to lift them as he reaches around her - her back to his front, he ties the gauze gown around her waist and then goes for the tie around her neck. The one they normally never have time to tie anyways.

“You know I love it when you dress up for me.”

His minty breath tickles the back of her neck as he speaks. He can’t see her roll her eyes but he knows that she is. He knows her like the back of his hand.

“And you know I’m still mad at you.”

“Well if you would listen to me for once in your life-“

“You are not my boss anymore. I don’t have to listen to you.”

“Oh, because you listened so well when I was your boss, hm?”

“I can finish tying my gown. Your hands are full.”

“I’ve got two hands.”

And just like that it's decided and he's finishing up tying her gown. They have no reason to be this close to each other anymore but neither of them moves a muscle. He reaches around her to grab a pair of gloves and he takes his sweet time while doing so.

She sneaks a glance at the prominent veins in his forearms and wishes she didn’t. Why does he always have to look so damn good?

The doors are slammed open by a gurney. “Showtime.” is all that tumbles out from her mouth before her and Jack are back in their usual rhythm.

Or their somewhat usual rhythm. In the trauma bay, residents typically stood at the head of the bed. Their main responsibility was keeping the patient’s vitals steady. Protecting the precious breath that told everyone else in the room that the patient still had a fighting chance.

Ever since she became the night shift's second attending six months ago, Jack and her were still getting used to sharing opposite sides of the bed. Jack was used to looking up from the patient and her eyes already being on him, silently asking him for direction. Now, it’s like she forgot he was even in the room.

Unless, of course, they were debating their differing opinions on the standard of care for the patient.

So yeah, maybe Jack had been picking a few unnecessary fights here and there just to get something from her. He never said it was healthy but he didn’t know what else to do.

He missed her. He missed guiding her hand through a procedure and the way she would look back at him with an expectant smile, waiting for his praise. Practically needing it.

He always gave it to her. Usually sticking with “Well done” or “Solid work” because the one time he went to say “Good job”, a “Good girl” slipped halfway out instead. Thank god no one had noticed.

It makes him sound like an ego maniac, and he promises he isn’t, but he relishes in that feeling of her needing him. Or at least thinking she did. Of the fact that the smartest most competent doctor the halls of this ED had potentially ever seen, looked to him for guidance.

He wanted to take care of her - beyond work. He'd come to terms with his crush years ago but also came to terms with the fact he could never have her. At the time he was her attending and even now that he isn't - he is still at least 12 years her senior and carries more than enough baggage for the both of them.

So he settled for taking care of her at work. Sometimes he pushed the boundaries with the praise and the extra teas but he took care of her within the appropriate context of their working relationship. Until now, apparently. Now that she wouldn’t let him.

Jack had been spoiled all these years. Pouring his knowledge into residents, and a lot of them were great, but none of them had ever quite surpassed what he could do in the ED. But now here she was, mopping the floor with him. He’s proud of her. And he would love it even more than he already does if she would just pay an ounce of attention to him. God, he was starting to sound pathetic.

After her first six months of residency, Robby transferred her to the night shift. He told Jack he was getting a good one. One who saw every single patient as a person rather than a box to be checked, even on the bad days. One who probably single handedly kept the patient satisfaction scores of the ED afloat. But that came at a price - it slowed her down. Impeded on her education. She needed to move quicker and Jack was the kind of teacher to teach her how to do just that while still maintaining her inquisitively kind nature.

She was a damn good doctor but Robby knew that under Jack’s watchful eye and baptism by fire teaching style - she could be great. And she was great.

She is great. So far beyond great, Jack catches himself watching her in awe most nights. But right now he was watching her with concern.

The young girl on the table beneath them was not going to make it.

She was normally better than him at this, less emotional, about knowing when to call it.

But he knew why she wasn't going to be right now. The patient on their table looked eerily like her little sister that she had lost to the same kind of drunk driving accident when she was a kid.

The older sister was even out in the family waiting room - holding her sister’s favorite stuffed animal. She had said she was holding on to it while her sister got better. To keep it warm for her.

It was a bright pink stuffed rabbit. The same kind she had clutched the night her sister died. That she never was able to return to her sister. Jack knew he was the only one in the ED that knew that. She’d told him so one night on the roof after a particularly bad shift. What Jack didn’t know was that he was the only person she’d ever told.

They had a way of bringing that out in each other. Neither of them pushed and that’s probably why they could so effortlessly pull stuff out. Neither of them were an open book to anyone but each other. He makes her feel understood. She makes him feel safe. They make eachother feel the most themselves they’ve ever felt.

But right now all he was making her feel was anger.

“Call it.”

“There was just a pulse a second ago.” They both knew there hadn’t been. Jack doesn't say it though.

She had taken compressions over from Whitaker. Wanting to do this one herself. Making it worse on herself.

“Call it.”

“She can still make it. Let me try one more time.”

Jack silently signaled for everyone else to leave the room and move onto their next call. The girl was gone. At least they could all try and replace this horrible memory by hopefully being able to save the next one.

“I said - call it.” Jack’s voice was low but still steady. Still calm. He wasn’t trying to pick a fight this time. He just wanted her to free herself of this burden that was not hers to carry.

“And I said, let me try one-“ compression “more” another compression, “time” compression.

So he let her. Not because he thought it would work. Precisely, the opposite actually. He knew she would never forgive herself if she didn’t feel that she gave every last ounce she had. Selfishly, he also knew she’d never forgive him for calling it earlier than she thought they should have.

One more compression and then a flat line on the monitor.

Beyond the occasional puff of air coming from her mouth as she caught her breath, you could hear a pin drop in the trauma bay.

Jack’s behind her again, gently untying her now bloody gauze gown. She turns to him. As much as they’ve been going at it lately, he is who she wants in these moments. In all the moments, really.

He slides off his gloves and then her own, not breaking eye contact the entire time.

His hands move to her shoulders and then slowly drag down to her triceps - steadying her and studying her. He doesn't speak. He doesn't need to. Just delicately searches her eyes with his own. Asks her if she’s okay and then assures her it’s going to be okay - all without even opening his mouth.

She tries to keep the tears in with deep breaths. Her palm pressing against her forehead.

“Time of death-“ She inhales shakily, “04:44.” She slaps her palm over her mouth like she just summoned death itself with her words. Then the dam breaks.

“Jack, I can’t-“ She barely gets out between hiccups.

“Shhhhh - I know. I will.” Tell the family is what she means. He’ll do that for her. He’d do anything for her.

And then he’s reaching his hands to cup her face and pulling her against him. Letting her cry it out against his chest.

Her arms wrap around his middle, squeezing so hard it was almost like she thought he’d disappear if she loosened her grip. He rubs up and down her back with one hand, cradling her head in his other and pressing the occasional kiss to her temple.

He whispers into her hair, “You are the best emergency physician I have ever seen. If you couldn't save her, no one could. If the person I cared about most in the world had to be in a trauma bay - you are who I would want to be in charge of it.”

That catches her off guard. They spend a lot of time together. More time together than with any of their family or friends or any potential partner. They talked a lot. About basically everything but that private part of their lives. She always assumed it was because neither of them really had much to report back on but his words are the first time she lets her mind think otherwise. That he may have someone that isn’t her. The thought terrifies her beyond belief.

Technically, they were single. They weren’t each other's. But - yes they were.

“Who is that?”

“What?”

“That you care about most in the entire world?”

Jack wasn’t even sure when it happened. Probably in between the dates on the rooftop that were probably only dates to him and the early morning carpools when he purposely took the long way home just to spend more time with her.

He takes a sharp inhale and blinks. Hard - like he’s just realizing now what his answer is. Like it always felt so natural that he never had to think too hard about it, “You.”

They’re both frozen and then she’s huffing a nervous laugh and pulling out of his grip. Avoiding his eye contact. Back to ignoring him. Back to pushing him away.

“Very funny.” She quips as she walks to the door, pretending to be engrossed in attempting to fix the hand sanitizer dispenser that’s been jammed for the last four months.

Jack stays in place like the soldier he is, “I’m serious.”

That brings her gaze back to his. Her jaw drops slightly, her pupils dilated. He thinks he sees hope in her eyes. The observation gives him some too.

He thinks he’s caught her off guard but what she says next practically knocks the wind out of him, “Me too.”

“What?”

“The person I care most about in the entire world. It’s you, Jack.” She doesn’t give him a chance to respond before she’s pushing out of the room.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

They don’t talk again for the rest of their shift. Not really, anyways. The ED is absolutely slammed. They’re basically running from trauma bay to trauma bay, room to room - even once to the ambulance bay. That’s how you know it’s busy.

But wow do they make a fucking phenomenal team. When they are on, they are on. They were close, but they didn't lose anyone else that night.

They catch their breath at the lockers, after the hand off with the day shift.

Jack wraps an arm around her head, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. “Go home. I’ll order Thai food to your place. Watch that trash TV you like. Shower. Cry. Cry in the shower. Sleep. Just know you gave everything you had tonight. Do not beat yourself up over this.”

“I don’t think the other people at the gym would appreciate me crying in the showers.”

“Why are you showering at the gym?”

“My apartment building has the water turned off for the day. I don’t know - they are fixing something. And there is no shot in hell I am showering here.”

“Come on. You’re coming home with me. Shower at my place. I’ll cook us breakfast while you do so you can cry in peace.”

The silence hangs between them. An expectant silence but one that says that if they are alone in a place that isn't the hospital - it is going to be damn near impossible to remain professional.

“Jack-“

“Let me take care of you, please. You deserve it, especially after tonight.”

And for once, she listens.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Jack busies himself with the omelettes and tea he’s making because if he thinks too hard, or at all, about her naked in his shower - he is going to combust.

The thought of her fully clothed in his space is enough to do his head in. He cannot even begin to let his brain broach the thought of her naked one floor away.

He is setting her favorite hot sauce, the one he hates but always kept in his fridge in case this moment ever happened, on the counter when he hears the water being turned off upstairs.

A couple light footsteps, the sound of a drawer opening and closing, and then his name. "Jack, where is your lotion?!"

"It's in the cabinet up top - furthest to your right." He yells back. Normally he would go up there and just grab it for her but he only has so much self control. It will all probably go down the gutter if he goes up there and sees her in only a towel.

"I can't reach it."

He curses under his breath and heads up the stairs - two at a time. He is not religious but he is praying to whoever will listen that she is wearing some semblance of the clothes he laid out for her. Now that he thinks about it, that might be worse.

Either way, he is in trouble. He stops outside his bathroom door and knocks lightly, " Can I come in?"

"No, I'd like you to get the lotion down from outside the bathroom." She sasses.

He smirks as he turns the knob, muttering something about her being a smart ass and a pain in his ass. He swallows hard at the sight of her.

She looks stunning because when does she not. He traces her collarbones with his eyes, down her arms, and over her legs - finally up to her face. Her eyebrow is lifted and a coy smirk on her face. Oh, she knows exactly what she is doing.

Jack shakes his head, as if that would get the thoughts of what is hiding under her towel out of his head.

He just clears his throat and reaches up to the cabinet, settling the lotion onto the counter, "Here."

She doesn't even pretend to grab it. Just lets it sit in between the sinks. In between them.

“Thank you - for today. I’m sorry, I’ve been a little bratty lately. I just had to prove to myself I could do things without having you in the room to encourage me to.”

“No, you have nothing to apologize for. I should be apologizing. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how much I would have to get used to you not needing me anymore.”

“I may not need you anymore but I still want you, Jack. I always will. But I probably haven’t shown that too well the past couple months so I’ll cool it with the attitude. I know you’re always just trying to help.”

“You don’t have to do anything on my account.” A beat and then, “It’s hot when you talk back.”

If Jack could shove those words back into his mouth - he would. He doesn't know what came over him, why those words came out - maybe something to do with the way she is staring at him. Eyes half lidded as she looks up at him through her lashes, a subtle grin as she bites her plump bottom limp.

"I am so sorry. That was so inappropriate."

“Jack-“

"We can just pretend I nev-"

She places a hand on his chest to interrupt his rambling and he pauses almost instantaneously, “Jack - I talk back because I think it’s hot when you put me in my place.”

Oh.

He looks down at her and lets out a low whistle, “You have no idea how bad I want you. How bad I’ve wanted this since the day you walked through the doors at the Pitt but I will not take advantage of you.”

His hands stay firmly planted to his sides but gosh she's making it really hard to keep still.

“Not even if I beg?”

He takes a sharp inhale, rubbing the back of his neck and then over his face with his palm, “You had a bad night. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret just because you’re upset”

“Jack, do you remember my first night shift? As an intern?”

“Yeah, of course. Knew I was in trouble from the jump.” He talks faster than she has ever heard him. She can tell he is a bit confused. What does her first intern shift have anything to do with why she is half naked in his bathroom almost four years later?

“That morning, when I went home, I had this dream and- fuck- you couldn’t keep your hands off me. I’ve been upset a lot over the years. I’ve been ecstatic, I’ve been angry beyond belief and every other emotion in between. But the one thing that’s always stayed the same is that at the end of every day, I wished I was coming home to you. I'm not going to regret this because I love you, Jack. No matter what kind of day I have. Good, bad, or ugly - you are always the best part of it."

“God, I think I’ve been waiting my whole life to hear you say that.” His hands fly to cup her jaw, he looks right in her eyes before he kisses her with everything in him. He pulls away barely, his forehead resting on hers, to whisper, “I love you. So much.”

"Can you show me - because I didn't call you up here in just my towel to chit chat."

Jack chuckles, his hands find her hips. He gives them a squeeze before he turns her around to face his bathroom mirror. They lock eyes through the glass and for the second time today, her back was to his front.

“What would everyone say if they heard you were such a slut for me.”

“Probably, ‘In his dreams’”

“Behave.” She can feel Jack smirking into the skin on her neck as he kisses her there. Long and slow - she whimpers at the feeling.

“I’ll think about it.” Her voice comes out shaky - clearly reflecting the effect he is having on her.

All in one swift motion, Jack unties and drops her towel, lightly smacking her ass.

“I said behave.”

She goes to roll her eyes. Not because she doesn't like what he is doing - because she loves it. Absolutely loves riling him up. But he knows her and he knows she's going to do that so before she even can, he smacks her ass again, murmuring a “So fucking perfect” as he rubs the red mark he left.

“Show me you can listen and I’ll be a lot nicer, angel.

All she can do is let out a whimper of his name. It is music to his ears.

Jack trails kisses up her neck then pecks one to her mouth before he’s grabbing her chin. They make eye contact through the mirror, one of his hands on her chin and the other splayed dangerously low pressing against her stomach.

He swipes his thumb against her lips as he whispers in her ear, his stubble tickling her cheek and she can’t help but imagine how it will feel between her thighs. “Let’s put that mouth to better use, huh?”

He swipes two fingers through her glistening folds. He can hear how wet she is. Feel it threatening to drip down her thighs. She moans at the emptiness - his fingers leave her and press their way into her mouth. His fingers weigh heavy against her tongue as her lips close around them, sucking, but never losing his eye contact. Jack groans at the sight.

“Taste yourself for me, baby. Look at how pretty your mouth is when you aren’t giving me attitude.”

Her knees are already threatening to give out and he’s barely even touched her yet. Anyone else wouldn’t notice the slight wobble. But he did. He notices every little detail about her - how could he not?

“You like it that much, hm sweetheart?”

She can’t manage words. Only a low moan and a nod as she presses her back against his front, feeling his bulge through the sweatpants he’d changed into when they’d gotten home. “Jack please, I want to see you. I want to feel you.”

“Greedy, yeah?”

“Jack, please. Too many clothes.”

“Shhh - I told you I was gonna take care of you tonight, yeah? Let me baby. Then you can have me. Be patient.”

Another moan pulled from her.

“You’re the most stunning woman I have ever laid my eyes on, you know that right? And so damn smart. My smart baby, yeah?"

She turns to face him, running her hands over his chest and then down his biceps as he talks. She takes her time. She’s trailed the veins of his large arm muscles with her eyes more times than she can count. Now that she gets to do it with her hands, she may never stop.

She gets to his hands, god those hands. His capable, strong, sturdy hands. She remembers what he said earlier today, about having two hands, and she feels her cheeks tinge pink. She’s seen his hands perform extraordinary miracles but she has a feeling the one he performs on her now will be her favorite.

His hands knead her hips as she goes, both of them relishing in each other's touch, until she breaks the silence. Her wide eyes look up at him. They look so innocent. Her words are anything but, “I want you to fill me up.”

“Fuck me. You’re gonna kill me.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“Are you gonna be a good girl and come when I tell you to?”

“Dr Abbot, I’m always a good girl for you. Especially that night you almost called me one right in the middle of the ED.”

Jack is shocked, “You caught that?”

“Touched myself thinking about it that night.”

He practically moans, “My god.” before he turns her back around to face the mirror. One hand on the back of her neck, the other on the small of her back, slightly bending her over.

Finally, finally he presses two fingers into her. Her head falls back onto his shoulder as he pumps in and out of her, both of their breathing heavy.

“I’ve barely even touched you and you’re already soaking wet.”

“For you? Always.”

He kisses her forehead then tilts her head back up by her chin with his free hand.

“Keep your eyes open, look at me baby.”

His fingers are still working on her. She’s almost there. Gasping for air. Her eyes shut and she's right there until...she's not. He's stopped.

Her eyes flutter open and she doesn't even bother to turn around - just stares at him through the mirror, "What the hell?"

“I said keep your eyes open. I want you to see how good you look taking my fingers, angel. Gonna look even better on my cock”

At the reminder, she buck backs against him.

“Not so fast, baby. Gonna make you come on my fingers. Then on my tongue. Then fill you up. How does that sound?”

“Yes, Jack, please. I need it please.”

“You sure you can handle it, baby?”

“I can-fuck, I can handle it.”

Then he’s working her again with his fingers. She keeps her eyes open, drinking in the filthy sight of them. One of his hands cradling her chin as she rides the other one - she is completely naked and Jack is entirely clothed. It makes her so worked up, her orgasm comes quickly.

“That’s it. Good girl—that's my good fucking girl."

Then he’s stepping around her and sinking to his knees in front of her so she can still see herself in the bathroom mirror. He knocks her ankles a little wider. They’d closed a bit after the last orgasm and she gasps at his tongue cleaning up her first mess and going for a second.

His hands wrap around her thighs, holding her in place. She tugs hard at his salt and pepper curls as she unravels. She looks down at him, craving his eye contact.

He slaps her ass again as a reprimand, “Eyes up. I want you to see how pretty you look when you're spreading your legs for me."

The words make her second orgasm tumble out just as fast as the first and she’s pulling him up by the collar of his shirt, placing a blistering kiss on his lips. His hands cradle her jaw and then they are in her hair, tugging slightly.

Their hands desperately clutch at one another as they kiss, gasping into each other’s mouths as if they’ve been starved of one another.

“Jack - clothes off. Now please.”

This time he listens. Then he is back behind her just as quickly as he’s coaxing his length into her. They both sigh at the relief.

“Doing so good for me, baby. Give me one more, yeah?”

He presses his forehead to hers. She nods and he leans up to kiss her temple again before rutting into her. Both of them loudly moaning at the sensation.

“Holy shit. And I thought nothing was gonna beat how fucking delicious you tasted. You feel like fucking heaven, angel.”

His broad hand crowds her neck, forcing her gaze to meet him in the mirror again as his fingers find her clit as he pounds into her from behind. Not too slow, not too fast but intentional - hitting all the right places because although they’ve never done this before he just knows. He knows her.

“Look at how pretty you look taking me.”

“Jack-“ she can’t get the sentence out. She trails off into a string of whimpers and moans as she verges on her third orgasm of the morning. She squeezes her walls around Jack and he grunts, he’s close too.

“So this is all I’ve got to do to get you to listen to me, huh? Why didn’t you just say so baby?”

“Jack-“

“Yeah, sweetheart.” He barely manages to get out.

“Can I come for you?”

At that alone she feels him spilling into her, “Yes baby. Oh my god, yes.” he falters, caging his arms around her, steadying them against the counter as they both ride out their highs.

“That was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Me too- told you to start listening to me.”

“You’re filthy.”

“And you fucking love it.” Jack smirks as he uses one hand to wipe her clean with a warm washcloth, the other hand holds her head against his lips. He presses a kiss to her temple then her lips and then up and down her shoulder and neck until she is a giggling, blushing mess.

Jack picks up his shirt he had laid out for her but leaves the pants. She lets him tug it over her head and hugs him tight when he's done. Arms around his middle, just as she had done earlier. He dips his lips to the crown of her head, arms around her shoulders as he inhales his shampoo in her hair. It makes him want to melt.

He plants a kiss into her hair, "Come on - lets get some food in you."

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Jack didn't think his life could get any better after what just occurred in his bathroom but here she was - barefoot in his favorite shirt - prancing around his kitchen. She fiddles with the police scanner, he told her she could find one of the music radio channels instead. He used the police scanner as a distraction but he doesn’t want any distractions from her.

He restarts the omelettes because he got a little distracted before. He doesn't recognize the song that is on but she must - the way a grin bubbles from her lips. He kisses it off and pulls her into his side as he cooks.

Your love run through me like lava

Pull my fit over these hips

You grip, I grind

Then taste this wine, I'ma taste what's mine

Jack couldn't wait to taste her again. And she couldn't wait to taste him for the first time. If they hadn't just worked a twelve hour shift with little to no food - omelettes would be the last thing on their mind.

'I'll never stop you, you'll never stop me

From bein' whatever we need to be

And in these dark times, I'm so glad that this love is blinding

'Cause all I see is the best of you and all you see is the best of me

And you bring out the best of me

And all I see is everything

Your goals, your glow, your inner being

And our bigger meaning

Jack decided he liked this song. It reminded him of them. They brought life into this world one hour and were saying goodbye to it in the next. But in both hours they helped people. And they helped each other by loving each other through it. Their purposes were intertwined - both inside and outside of that hospital.

So, let's lose us in these sheets, yeah

And when I get up to walk, I wanna feel weak, yeah

Well, I ain't goin' far

So, stay where you are

Feel like you partied in Venus and we woke up in Mars

"You're not going to be able to walk tomorrow. Could barely get downstairs." Jack smiled to himself thinking of how he'd carried her down the stairs just moments ago.

"Oh shut up and dance with me." He turned the stove top off and turned to her. These omelettes were never getting made.

With the way she was looking at him - he was perfectly fine with that.

I been waitin' my whole life

And I'm gonna give you the best years of your life

You and I

He twirled her around as they danced - her singing the last words of the song to him. He didn't care that she had the world's worst singing voice - he was still blushing. Because she'd already given him the best years of his life - he couldn't possibly imagine the happiness that lied ahead of them now that they were finally letting themselves have it.

He felt himself getting emotional. He tugged her to his chest, cradling her head, mindlessly pressing kisses to it - ensuring she was real. That this dream was real.

"Jack"

"Hm, baby?"

The cutest yawn he’d ever heard and then, "Take me to bed, please."

Yep, definitely real.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

They'd been in bed cuddling for a mere five minutes when Jack's phone dings on his bedside table.

“You are not seriously on call right now?” Her head pops up off his chest and he has never been more annoyed at Robby for texting him than he is right now.

Jack groans as he reaches over, “No, just a question from Robby about that heart attack case we had this morning.”

“He can figure it out.”

“Let me answer - it will take two seconds.”

Jack types or at least tries to. She kisses up his neck - lightly sucking at the sensitive spots and then licking over them. Never doing enough to leave a mark. They don't need those questions at work tomorrow. But enough to make him dizzy.

Her legs are tangled in his and he lightly slaps her ass, “Stop being so hot please, I’m trying to get my work done.”

“Work? Flirting with Robby is more like it.”

“My bad flirting is reserved only for you.”

She points at his chest like she had done this morning, “Better be.”

He looks down and she flicks her fingers up, flicking his nose a lot lighter than she had earlier.

Jack is quicker now, grabs her finger and uses it to gently tug - to wrap her arms around his neck and pull her on top of him. Her legs fall to either side of his waist. It is hard to tell where she begins and he ends but they are a ball of laughter as they settle into each other.

She rests her head in the crook of his neck, placing a kiss there as he does the same to her forehead. Her hands play with the curls at the nape of his neck. One of his rubs up and down her thigh. Then her back. The other in her hair massaging her scalp, lulling her to sleep.

“Get some sleep, baby. I’ll punish you for that when we wake up.”

“Looking forward to it.”

“Behave”

“Only cause you said so.”

They both fall asleep with grins on their faces. And wake up with them too.

#jack abbot #the Pitt #the pitt fanfiction #the pitt fic #jack abbot x female reader #jack abbott x female reader #jack abbot x you #jack abbot x reader #dr jack abbot fanfic #dr jack abbot x reader #dr jack abbott #dr jack abbot #jack abott #jack abbot smut

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seumyo · 11 months ago

Text

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 5:48

Bakugou’s in his third year of high school when he finally invites you over to his house. The reason? To finish a calculus project.

You’d think that after surviving through the hardships of being a hero-in-training together for three years, saving each other’s lives (more often you were the one being saved than doing the saving, really), and whatnot, he would’ve invited you sooner to his home (one could dream).

But this was Bakugou, after all.

And he knew that something was off the moment he left you to share a conversation with his mom while he went to get his books from his room—the greatest mistake he could have ever done because by the time he’s making his way back, Bakugou could hear you snickering to yourself.

Not a good sign.

“I’m not going to lie; you looked hideous when you were a baby,” you say, reading through Bakugou’s baby album.

Bakugou froze. He had absolutely no idea why his mother would cave in and give you the godforsaken album from when he was young, but of course she would’ve agreed with your request to see it if you did so much as mention it.

He dropped the books he’d grabbed from on top of his desk on top of the living room table before whipping his attention towards you, an indignant scoff escaping through his nose before he took a few slow, but heavy stomps over to you—practically snatching the album from your grasp when he’s within reach.

“Stop looking through those stupid pictures.”

“Hey! I wasn’t finished,” you reply with a frown. “You’re lucky my phone’s battery just died, or else I would’ve taken a billion photos.”

Bakugou’s jaw clenched slightly as he grumbled curses under his breath, trying to flip through the album in his hands to make sure you hadn’t managed to sneak a photo out—a small sigh of relief rolling off of his tongue to find that, luckily, it was still how his parents had done it.

He shot a glare over towards you, stuffing the album back into its original spot on one of the bookshelves, his nose crinkling as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Don’t care; tell anyone what you saw, and you’ll drop dead,” he tells you.

“Oh, but how could I not? That photo album’s like hitting the jackpot—so many super ultra rare photocards of you,” you gushed, blatantly disregarding his usual threat. “Come on, I wanna see the rest!”

“Absolutely not.”

Bakugou knew the damn photos were in the back of the album. There were probably a handful of the ones where he was in the bathtub, butt-naked—a common photo in most photo albums he’s seen, at least. Other photos include when he was three years old and wore an All Might onesie for his birthday, pictures of him during his school recital where he was the prince, him with a bald haircut, and so much more blackmail material.

It was humiliating, for goodness sake! And he knew you’d just tease him mercilessly if you saw it.

You’ll never let him live it down, so it’s best to deprive you of it.

“Don’t come at me for saying this, but I was the cutest baby in our village back then,” you told him proudly. “Had the roundest cheeks and brightest smile, trust.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, a huff of air forcing itself past his lips. That was one thing about you that he couldn’t stand; you were so full of yourself most of the time—you’d always been like that, and he absolutely loathed it. It could be that it reminds him of himself, so the competitive meter on his head just flares whenever he’s around you.

“I doubt you were even 1% of how adorable I was as a baby.”

“Have you seen me?” you gestured to your face with your hands to emphasize your facial features.

“I’m still as cute even now. And no offense, Bakugou,” you giggled, “you looked like a wrinkly raisin on your first few days on this Earth.”

Bakugou’s smirk dropped. He’d almost forgotten that you had seen the stupid pictures already.

“Shut the hell up. It wasn’t that bad.” He muttered quietly, his hands balling into frustrated fists. His parents always assured him that he was a cute kid when he was small—but to hear that YOU of all people, are in disagreement with that is just aggravating.

“Fine, fine. Quits it is,” you hum. “Let’s do that calculus project so I can get home before sunset.”

Bakugou grumbled something inaudible under his breath, reluctantly nodding his head in agreement. There was no point in arguing about something so idiotic—after all, both of you were there to get a project done, not to sit around and bicker about his past.

He took a few steps over to the living room table before plopping down on the polished floor ungracefully, yanking out his notes before he gestured his hand over towards the free space next to him.

“Sit down. Let’s just get this thing done and over with already.”

Bakugou had already started working silently by the time you sat down; his hand was writing almost furiously as he copied equations onto his paper. He kept his attention focused on his notes, trying to stay quiet as he focused completely on completing the project.

He eventually stopped writing for a moment, turning his gaze over to glance at what you were doing before clicking his tongue at the sight. Bakugou could already see a few mistakes you’d made with your work.

“You’re doing it wrong,” he says.

“Wait, I’ve barely turned on the calculator, jeez.” You shook your head, solving the equation through your calculator.

“And that’s how I know you’re doing it wrong.” Bakugou huffed, shaking his own head in disappointment.

“Formula first before adding 1.3.”

He pulled out a pen and began scribbling down on his own paper, glancing at yours every once in a while to compare the work. He knew from his experience that you were decent at math (he’d rather die than tell you that), but this was just pitiful even by your standards.

“Have you been dozing off during Ectoplasm’s class?”

“Ouch. Do you have a personal grudge against keeping the not-so-nice stuff from leaving your mouth?” you sigh. “You’re hurting my feelings— I’m devastated.”

He had a feeling you’d say something like that, and he was prepared to ignore your attempts at gaining sympathy from him.

“Unfortunately, you’ll fucking live,” Bakugou says, scribbling down the last of his work before turning it towards you. “And learn how to solve equations too, while you’re at it.”

“I know how to do it; calm down.” You huff, rewriting your solutions.

Bakugou raised a skeptical eyebrow, his head tilting with a hint of disbelief. Even if he knew you were capable of doing math, you had a bad habit of missing even the smallest details, like the operation to be used in your work, leading to the wrong answers.

His eyes scanned over the work you’d written on your paper before letting out a small huff. “Looks right. Are you done with your half?”

“Yep, yep. Are you going to write it down on our answer sheet, or should I do it?” you offered.

Bakugou glanced down at the answer sheet set to the side before picking it up and nodding. He was already holding a pen while you were still using a pencil, so it would make more sense for him to be the one to write it all down.

He began copying down the answers slowly and carefully, each number being written out with ease as his eyes flicked back and forth from the worksheet to the sheet of answers.

With him busy jotting down the answers, you occupied yourself with taking in the interior of his living room. It was beautiful, neat, and just screamed rich—not really what you expected (you really didn’t know what to expect, honestly). “Y’know,” you mention, glancing around. “You have a nice house.”

Bakugou hummed in acknowledgment, his eyes remaining focused on his task. It kind of took him by surprise to hear you say something out of the blue—about his house, no less. He’d fully expected you to talk about something else, like school or that new show you’ve been begging him to watch.

It went against what Bakugou had originally thought, which led him to look over at you from the corner of his eye, silently raising an eyebrow in a silent question.

“Yeah, I guess it’s a nice house,” he said casually, his pen continuing to move over the paper. His penmanship was neat, and Bakugou hears you in awe.

Bakugou continued to finish writing down the last of the answers, his eyes narrowing slightly as he noticed you looking around his house. It was obvious what was happening, but he decided to ignore it in favor of just getting the godforsaken project done.

He finished soon enough, his pen rolling back with a click before he leaned back a little and let out a small huff. “We’re done. Finally.”

“Nice, nice.” Glancing at your watch, you concluded, “I should get home.”

Bakugou was silent, rolling his shoulders and neck before glancing out of the nearby window. The sun had already begun to set over the sky, the day quickly slipping away into the night.

“Yeah, whatever. You need me to walk you home or something?” He asks gruffly.

“Nah, I’m good. I need to say goodbye to your parents, too.”

Bakugou watched as you packed up all of your belongings, a scoff rolling off of his tongue. It felt almost weird to be civil with each other, neither of you having taken jabs or making snarky remarks to taunt one another.

“Alright, fine,” he finally said, standing up from his seat and stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Let’s go find my parents then.”

He led you down the hall and into the kitchen area, his ears vaguely picking up the sounds of his mother and father talking amongst themselves about… something. He couldn’t tell what exactly, and frankly, he barely even cared.

“Mom, Dad.” He spoke up, capturing the attention of his parents.

Mitsuki looked over at him, a smile spreading across her face. Masaru looked in the same direction, a warm smile forming on his face as well.

“Thank you for having me, Mr. and Mrs. Bakugou,” you said in gratitude. “I’ll be going home now before it gets too late.”

His parents shared a hum in acknowledgment, with his mother being the one to speak up first. She had a knowing grin on her face as she clasped her hands together, her eyes flickering over to her son.

“You’re welcome. You should come over more often,” Mitsuki said enthusiastically, her voice taking on a slightly smug tone.

Masaru laughed as he nodded in agreement. He gave a knowing look to his wife before he looked back over at you. “You should join us for dinner; we already made enough for you to join us.”

“I’d love to, sir, but my folks are waiting for me at home,” you answered sheepishly.

Bakugou noticed the glance his parents exchanged and immediately knew what they were thinking. He almost grumbled in frustration, already knowing that they’d ask him about you later after you left.

His mother spoke up once again, her smug grin growing wider. “You’re always welcome here,” she repeated, her eyes flickering over to her son as her voice came out teasing. “After all, Katsuki’s always in a ‘better’ mood when you’re around.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it, ma'am. I’m a joy to be around, after all,” you lightly joked, though you still maintained a respectful tone.

His parents were easier to get along with than you thought.

Bakugou’s eye twitched in annoyance at your words, almost making him want to quip back at your cocky behavior. However, it was the sound of his mother’s sudden laughter that stopped him from doing so.

Mitsuki mother put her hand up to her mouth briefly, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she continued to chuckle. The expression on her face was elated, and it was pissing him off even more, knowing what’s to come.

“I like this one,” she said, grinning from ear to ear.

Masaru added, “And clearly, so does Ka—“

“All right! They need to get going to catch the shitty train.”

By the time Bakugou accompanied you to the door, he had this obvious scowl on his face. “You’re never comin’ back here again, dipshit.”

“Wha— no fair! Why am I getting banned from the Bakugou residence when this is my first time here?” you replied.

“Shut up,” he grunts. “I could do whatever the hell I want because it’s my house, too.”

“Too bad I have your Mom’s number—“

“Delete that.”

“Hey— wai— no way!”

It was not the last time you were ever invited to the Bakugou residence.

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zoe-oneesama · 3 months ago

Note

Since you drew pig!Sublime, i wanna know what you think about the character (even though she only appeared once)

Season 6 gives me Season 1 vibes but with baggage, so I fully expect Sublime to be, like, the Aurore of S6 - high impact in Her Episode only to be relegated to background fodder. Honestly we probably won't get much more out of her despite the Smirk of Dubious Intentions we got when Tomoe Tsurugi agreed to sponsor her. Oh nooo, giving money to allow a disabled girl to participate in her chosen sport, what evil must lurk behind her choice here, ahhhh, I'm so scared.

Sorry got off topic

Uh, Sublime seems fine? I mean it's hard to get enthusiastic about yet another Comically Flawless Character for Marinette to compare herself to for no reason. I guess it's that to me Sublime herself isn't interesting, she's just kind of a prop for other characters to reflect off of. That's kind of the downside to being so Comically Perfect, most of her personality just doesn't read as real or relatable. I mean, she wasn't even the akuma, her mother was. And her mother and father's dynamic around both each other and Sublime's career are much more complex and I have way more to talk about the two of them than Sublime herself.

The only place of any interest is her unique way of dealing with her anxiety - making it separate from herself and talking shit to it. Of course, this was just a contrived way for Marinette to mistakenly believe Sublime was talking shit to her, so even that's not without it's annoyances, but it's definitely A Strategy to dealing with your Inner Saboteur. Reminds of the post/tweet about turning your Intrusive Thoughts into a drunk backseat passenger so it's easier to write off as nonsense.

Sublime's design is okay, I like having a character actually lean into some less saturated colors for once. I just wish she had more contrast because it's a lot of similar blue on blue on blue, especially where her dress hem meets her "legs". And it's crazy that her default hair has FIVE BRAIDS, at LEAST. Where does all that hair go when she puts it in a ponytail though?

The name is cringe, but we all knew that. It's like the episode title "Sublimation" was decided on first and they worked backwards from there. I don't know if Sublime is a common name in Belgium (doubtful), but in English it's just weird because that's Not a Name. It's not even a common adjective that people use. In English, a more appropriate name would be "Grace" or "Harmony" or "Bliss" - they are names but they're also pretty literal. But then they couldn't have the "gotcha!" moment from naming the episode "Sublimation". Does it sound weird to French viewers the way it does in English???

I'm glad she's so forgiving but also has a healthy amount of Oh This Girl is Craaaazy in the way she interacts with Marinette. Willing to meet her half way but isn't like "oh that's cute how she's a total freaking weirdo!" She sees Marinette for exactly who she is. And I'm glad she's Adrien's friend, he needs his own damn friends.

Anyway, hopefully we see a little bit more of her but I'm not really holding my breath. As is, she's nothing that really makes me excited. At least I get to practice drawing prosthetics now?

#'I can never be as SUBLIME as SUBLIME' was the only line that sold me on the name even a little #ask zoe #sublime #my art #miraculous ladybug #sublime bartlet #sublime redesign

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whosmariaaa · 3 months ago

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— part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 !

college! sukuna spend that same night in his bed, searching for your instagram. your account was a hard find. it took him 60 minutes of his life to even find one of your friends, who had coincidentally tagged you in their recent photo dump. in that same photo dump was a cute picture of you and your friend. you were glowing, a pretty smile on your face, and sukuna immediately took a screenshot to save for himself.

then, he went to your account. you hadn’t posted a single thing, and your profile picture was black. he had spend 30 minutes searching for basically nothing. but, he still followed you.

the notification “r.sukuna is now following you” popped up on your screen around 1 AM. how the hell did this guy find you? you were genuinely confused.

you didn’t have any classes with him the next day, so you came up to him at lunch. not caring about the girl placed in his lap, kissing his neck. sukuna looked awfully disinterested in her.

“did you do your part of the project?” you asked suspiciously. he turned his head to you, and rudely pushed the girl off before getting on his feet. the girl looked at him in shock, and then shot you a glare, as if you stole her man. that girl could definitely have him, for all you care.

“nah, but you don’t mind, do you?” sukuna replied condescendingly, “besides, it’s only due in three weeks.”

you simply sighed. you can not with this man. he was purposely getting on every single one of your nerves. “it’s due in three weeks because it’s a big project half our grade, you massive dick,” you scowled. a stupid smirk made a way on his face.

“so? you’re smart, right? you’ll figure it out,” he responded.

his comment somehow doubled your irritation. “you’re either helping with this, or i’m asking the professor to kick you out. take a pick,” you hissed back. then, his smirk disappeared ever so slightly.

“you’re really a fucking bitch about this, y/n,” sukuna huffed. he broadened his shoulders slightly, narrowing his eyes in irritation. you rolled your eyes back at him, “go cry about it. take a fucking pick.”

he watched you a for a few moments in silence as he straightened his back slightly, seeming even taller. he looked threatening, sure, but you were too pissed off to care.

“…fine, but don’t expect me give a shit about it,” he decided. another beat of silence, of the both of you glaring at each other. you decided now would be a good time to mention him suddenly following you, since the silence was getting a little too intense for your liking.

“oh yeah, why did you follow me on instagram? how’d you even find me?” you asked.

his smirk returned, and he raised his eyebrows in amusement. “just came across your account. am i not allowed to, sweetheart?” he taunted. he spend an hour looking for it, but you didn’t need to know that. you just scoffed, “weirdo.” and then walked off, making sure to shove him with your shoulder.

sukuna stared at you until you left through the doors of the cafeteria. the girl that was in his lap before, got up from her seat. “who was that?” she asked in irritation. he returned his eyes to her, but then a disgusted scowl added to his expression.

“mind your own fucking business, you bitch. and why don’t you get the fuck out of here while you’re at it?” he snarled. the girl flinched slightly at his harsh words, but then muttered something under her breath before getting up and leaving.

“damn, what crawled up your ass and died?” toji asked. sukuna stared at him, his expression dangerous.

“i think he’s still down bad for that girl. what was her name? y/n?” gojo laughed, “y’know what, if you don’t get with her, i will,” he added tauntingly. for some reason, him saying that made sukuna even more pissed off than before. why the hell was he suddenly in his business? you were off-limits, he had made that very clear before.

“watch your fucking mouth, gojo. i won’t hesitate to make an end to your pathetic life,” sukuna threatened.

“man, you’re pussy whipped. what’d she do to make you all in love like this?” gojo teased. sukuna just scoffed and sat down again, ignoring his infuriating friends while in thought.

yeah, what did you even do?

──★˙🍓̟!! hi guys, i’m so sorry i’m still figuring out tumblr, but maybe in the future i’ll be doing a taglist!! ☺️ and @elizabeth-von-winken-universe in my inbox, yes i’ll definitely be doing more parts for sukuna, thank you sm!!! and for the other person in my inbox, i love you to death may God bless u too and keep u and ur family safe💗

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bnyf · 4 months ago

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ#1 crush ♡

╭﹕୨୧﹒yandere male elf x female human reader ♡

┊ warnings : yandere content and themes, unhealthy behaviors, relationship and relationship dynamic, sexual content, noncon, kidnapping, size difference, strange dynamic.

╰﹕୨୧﹒authoress note : after receiving some unwanted but much needed criticism i've tried my hand at writing a little better and fixing errors. i apologize in advance if there's any errors or gaps in my writing, i also apologize for the messed up story that this is. ik some people don't like the way i write the reader but like??? idgaf sorry anyways other than that, i hope you guys enjoy, please read the warnings and proceed with caution <3 i would also like to say that this post is kinda inspired by a very popular yandere artist on here with a male elf oc

what a treacherous fate had befallen on a vitreous soul such as yourself.

it truly is unfortunate, you're so unlucky. how could your luck have run so low? to think, this everyday mundane routine would now be your nightmarish reality was stomach wrenching. you never did anything to deserve this, this was simply some sort of faulty by the gods, right? there's no way this is your horrible ending. no way.

you sobbed and yet... he hummed and chastised you by smacking your puffy clitorous.

it's always like this, it's been like this for...? a while now apparently. you've completely lost track of time. maybe a month or so if you're playing the guessing game.

well, if it wasn't obvious already, you've been taken hostage by an insane elven prince. probably the most insanely angelic, good-looking, prettiest and sick minded male you've ever met.

he really needs professional help. something that he can more than afford considering his house is almost made of gold, his herculean physique adored and draped only with the most expensive clothes, jewels, silks, soaps and scented creams and perfumes. his perfume, so extravagant, worth more than your vital organs all put together. that was the part you admired about elven people, they are so intelligent, so ahead of humans.

but to him? therapy is cheap and free! you're the first ever human he's laid eyes on and that's all he really needs. and really, you're the one to blame for his actions. it's all you. so you should take responsibility, right?

he's sought out humans before, trying to break the barrier between the two worlds and connect with them. he was damn near obsessed with coming into contact with the human realm and ruling over them like a god despite the fact that any sort of magic that threatens to break the barrier and connect the realms or offer passage through the two realms is absolutely forbidden. this is such a serious offense that if caught violating, can lead to public execution.

but your little caregiver did not! give one flying hoot at all, nor did the rules really even apply to royals as the royals participated in a lot of magical corruption and kept it all on the low.

so what a surprise! not really that he'd succeed in his conquest. not entirely since he'd only manage to bring one human to the elven realm, but now he knows for sure he's making great progress. and not only succeed in getting a nitty gritty palms on any human, but such a cute little human female like yourself.

humans are a lot more fragile, smaller, weaker, lesser intelligent beings, almost like a sub species from elves. so that's why you must be taken care of with so much extra love and attentiveness. all this was his reasoning for treating you like a minor being, enabling you and excuses for his weird kinks.

there was no way you'd ever dream of over powering him, not when a large veiny arm wrapped so tightly around your wrists, holding it behind your back, and the other with it's slender long digits effortlessly reaching your g spot.

it was 'bath time' or whatever, which called for a thorough inspection and cleanse. or just another excuse to use your body to his likings.

his tongue lap at your folds and clit, moaning in delight and relishing in all your juices spraying him. his voice muffled by your pussy, making wet sounds as he attempts to praise your gorgeous body: all of which sounds like incohesive unhinged, obsessive rambling of course.

if you ignore this scene and focus on other small things around you maybe you can, somewhat imagine yourself having a luxurious warm bath in the tub, with flowers and scented stuff in the water, scented candles creating a relaxing atmosphere, marvelous one-sided glass view... maybe not the one-sided glass view that's actually a little too scary to think about but yeah, you're having a nice little bath.

the most relaxing bath in the most prettiest and pearliest tiled bathroom you've ever been in.

your insides contorts though and you find yourself coming again undone on those perfectly manicured fingers of his, messing up his perfect face with your essence. your voice is loud and echoes throughout the bathroom, all the way into the bedroom and closet but never enough to each anyone's ears as he's casted multiple protective barrier spells to keep your presence unknown from other elven people. you've came like 5 times already and he won't let you rest, getting high off your pussy juices.

"poor baby, you look so tired, shhh don't worry~ mama will take care of everything, just relax and be good for me, okay? it'll all be over soon, my darling ^ mama will get you all cleaned up and dressed, right after this..." you wish you had the energy to welp out an 'ewwwwww da fuck?!' right about now but you were so weak and constantly sedated. you felt helpless as his bulbous tip hits your pussy, rubbing it back and forth to coat and lubricate himself with your juices. he leisurely teases, making your hole spasm and grasp around nothing, your body reacting in a lovely manner to his advances.

he licks his lips, only putting the tip in before quickly pulling back out. taking his time cause he wants to drive you insane like him. and luckily for him, his mind games always work so well.

his precum leaking and smearing you in the process as he rubs his whole length, measuring your pelvic area with his cock length and soon putting it in to see how far it'll actually go.

you almost blacked out. even though he prepped you well for this it still stings, he's just too big. and you? way too tight, squeezing him like you want every last drop of his seed, has him shivering and grunting in the process.

"fck- you're so tight, baby ngh~"

has him seeing stars and by the time he's balls deep in you and hitting the tip of your womb, you're a drooling and moaning mess. can't even control his obsessive thoughts from spilling out his mouth, he immediately gets to work on those hips too like a wild animal, only sparing a few seconds to sloppily kiss you and slap your thick behind.

it only takes a few minutes before he breaks his load inside you and shifts you into another position, manhandling you and roughing you up like a meat toilet, all for his own enjoyment and pleasure.

his long silky hair tickling your skin. when you think about it, he's so masculine with many feminine traits too, like the perfect balance actually and it is to be expected from an elf. he always wants to be in control, always wants to take care of you like a god watching over his creation. it sorta overlaps with him calling himself your mama but it makes sense in a way. he doesn't see himself as a woman in any sort of way, he just wants unrestricted authority over you.

your tears stream down your cheeks which he licks away and kisses, it only hurts your head trying to rationalize this or even understand it, your vision goes all blurry and for the next few rounds, your in and out of consciousness while being filled.

when you're awake again, you're draped in silk half naked and powdered up, you feel your caretakers strong arms wrapped around you, spooning you as rubs circles into your skin. he's also half naked with nothing but a cloth draped around himself. you both lay on a soft layered bed with many squishy pillows and blankies. fruits, steam veggies and grilled meat laid out on a silver tray for you to enjoy, though your stomach was filled with his cum.

#yandere x reader #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere male #yandere oc #yandere writing #yandere x y/n #yandere blog #yandere boys #yandere elf #yandere smut #yandere drabble #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere fantasy

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a-mint-bear · 3 months ago

Text

No One But You

Male Yandere x Reader

Still trying to keep a low profile, you are once again out in the city. Just one random face in a sea of strangers. But by now, you've learned that it's wise not to dismiss what feels like "just being paranoid". Someone is following you, and you're starting to miss your weird internet stranger...

Parts: [ 1 / 2 / x ]

[content warning for depicted violence and mentions of violence/murder and sexual situations, not for readers under 18]

· · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ✦ · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

It’d been a long time since he’d lost control like that.

Staring at the drain, he silently watched the water circle it. He couldn’t remember if he’d ever killed someone if it wasn’t to sleep. It felt… different.

He’d killed someone just because he was mad.

Because he hated them.

Because they got in the way of you.

And…

He would do it again.

He’d had the thought to himself that the reason he wanted you with him, wanted you at all, was so that he could sleep. That the intense need he felt was some baser instinct of his to help control the things he couldn’t, to make his life easier.

But now that you were gone, killing didn’t seem as… effective as it used to be.

The voices were already creeping back in, and he felt exhausted. And even with the blood of his former employer still all over the motel bathroom, sleep felt just as out of reach.

Had he built up some kind of resistance to his old band-aid solution?

Now, it looked like you were the only thing that would work, maybe… Or was this something else entirely?

Maybe…

He just needed you.

The heat of you next to him in the night. The stillness of his thoughts as he studied every detail of your face. The steady rhythm of your breathing as you held him close.

The beat of his heart under his hand as he steadied himself against the shower wall.

His other hand creeping down his chest, he closed his eyes as the uncomfortably hot water ran down the same path. The steam was becoming a bit suffocating, but it felt amazing on his sore muscles.

His breath caught in his throat when it was your hand replacing his own, drifting over his stomach, the sensation soothing his nerves after overextending himself.

It was you.

Calming the voices.

Consoling him.

Praising him.

Calling him yours.

Your lips grazing his jaw as your hand trailed down, your fingers ghosting over his skin.

He choked out a gasp as you whispered in his ear, your fingers wrapping around him.

You told him he looked so cute, all flustered, Colin gasping and panting as you bit his neck.

“Don’t… “ He cried out, biting his lip. “Don’t st… stoooop…”

A soft chuckle was all he could hear, his own moans and whimpers drowned out by the tinny hiss of the shower head.

It was all too much… You were talking to him the whole time, telling him exactly what he needed to hear to feel just a little bit more. More more more… He needed something, something else… It was right there. He just had to… had to-

You told him to let go, to give in to you. He chased after that feeling, his nails digging into his shoulder. You…

You were everything to him. He wanted… He wanted you. It wasn’t enough, but it was too much. Too much…

“Yes…” He moaned, muffled as he pressed his mouth to his shoulder, feeling so damn overwhelmed. “Please please please PLEASE-!!”

A strangled, choked sob escaped his throat, it felt like his whole body was in spasms, and he wished you were there to hold onto. He wished it was your shoulder he was biting instead.

“F-fuuuuck” He mumbled around his own skin. “I can’t… it won’t stop…”

His legs trembled and almost buckled under him, his hips bucking into a painfully empty space where you should’ve been, not just his hand. Panting hard, blood dribbled from his mouth onto his chest, circling the drain alongside everything else.

“Fuck…” he panted, his wet hair clinging to his face.

He felt like it’d been a long time since he’d done that. He wondered to himself if it’d always felt that intense…

Or was it because of you?

The water was getting cold. Maybe it had been for a bit. He couldn’t remember.

His thighs burned, but it felt… nice. So much warmer and almost… comforting compared to the burn he felt after a kill. He let the water roll over him for another minute or so to cool him down.

You were gone. You’d been gone that whole time, but the you that he’d seen, that he’d felt… they were gone now too. He stared at his own hands, wishing yours would come to him again.

You were… changing something inside him. He’d been so empty for the longest time, something about you-everything about you was filling him up, making him into something new.

He was thinking a bit more clearly lately. Just enough to… remember how to be a person again. Or at least… enough of a person to realize he needed to calm down. To get his head on straight long enough to figure out a few things.

. . .

“Yeah…” he sighed, pulling back the curtain. The floor, the sink, the mirror… Everything was still covered in blood. “There’s still so much to do…”

. . .

“It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve cleaned up…” he sighed, grabbing a towel for himself. “I know how to get rid of this. I need my tools…”

. . .

“There won’t be anything left when they come back.” He squeezed his eyes tight in frustration. “They won’t see. I wouldn’t scare them like that…”

There was a lot to do. But something stuck out to him.

“I guess I lost my job.” He hummed to himself. But spying what was left of his boss, he had an idea.

Being a small part of the motel’s business, he knew enough to keep things running, to keep up standing reservations with big regulars and creeps.

And given the kind of customers the boss catered to, it wouldn’t be… unthinkable that he’d crossed the wrong people and those same people were the new management of the place, the most hostile of all hostile takeovers.

And, if they just so happened to imply that the old boss was hiking up the rates and a bit too loose-lipped to the wrong people, which in fairness, he was… They probably wouldn’t mind staying again, if promises were made.

Of course, all new staff would be employed. No one left from the old regime. New cleaners, new front desk guy, so Ryan had to be let go. Same way his boss was, as far as they would know.

He would have to be a few new people, behind the scenes. But the money would all be his now, and with the right words to the right people, the real him would still go unnoticed. He could take just enough bookings to get by, plus it would lessen the chances of getting found out.

Chris could just not show up to his shift at the bar, and eventually they’d just assume he wasn’t coming back. He had too much to do here.

After all, the money would go a long way towards finding you.

· · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ✦ · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

The money you’d gotten had been some relief to your situation. The last few days had been… okay.

You’d used some of it to get a gym membership in cash and under a fake name. It was a cheap, reliable way to get a regular shower and a locker to store some of your stuff that was too risky . The money would also go a long way at a few different cheap hostels for about a month or so. You could afford some cheap food and the occasional trip to a laundromat, the one downtown with the broken cameras, but all of it was just a temporary fix.

You still had to hide like a scared animal. Your old life was so far away now, it almost seemed like a completely different reality. There was no looking for a permanent place, no job search, no trying to figure out what you would do long term. Though that was probably the smartest thing to do, it just… wasn’t really possible then.

Anyone you spoke to could be the person that would later realize who you were and who was looking for you and then it would all be over. So you never walked the same route anywhere, and you never stayed anywhere more than an hour, all the while watching doorways and jumping at every sound.

You didn’t used to be so jumpy.

Back when things were normal.

You tried not to let your mind wander often, because if you did, it usually went back to the same place.

The small motel room.

The safe and secure feeling.

The warmth of him against you.

The sound of him mumbling in his sleep.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried to tell yourself it was for the best. You would’ve had to leave eventually. That you couldn’t stay in one place for too long.

No matter how safe and hidden away you felt you’d been.

No matter how much you maybe kind of regretted leaving.

No matter how much you missed him.

· · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ✦ · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

It wasn’t long until things started to seem off.

First, it was this instinctual fear, the cold, panicked feeling of someone looking at you from somewhere you couldn’t see.

In the past, you would’ve just dismissed it as feeling anxious. But lately, being paranoid had been your saving grace as of late.

A few days later, some of your things in the gym locker seemed just slightly out of place, just enough to set off alarm bells.

Not long after that while walking to your hostel, you noticed footsteps behind you. Alert to their presence but not initially suspicious, you slowed your pace just a bit. Sure enough, the unseen stranger down the sidewalk slowed, their steps falling in line with yours. Another test, your pace a tiny bit faster, and suddenly it was obvious someone was following you.

Quickly cutting through an alley at random, you circled back a few blocks and headed in a completely new direction, successfully shaking your tail.

You canceled your stay through your phone, booking another on the other side of town and taking only side streets to get there. You didn’t know who had been behind you, but you didn’t get to sleep that night, your mind racing with the worst possibility.

If it had been some random mugger or worse, it would almost be a relief. But you couldn’t help but suspect the obvious.

That someone had found you.

In the voices and noises of the city streets, you could swear you heard your name. No one was calling out to you, it was more of a hushed whisper, like someone was noting where you were or telling someone else about you. It was so faint you almost wondered if you imagined it. But that wasn’t the way to think when you were actively hiding yourself away.

Little things kept piling up, and you were more on edge than ever. But there wasn’t much you could do about it other than try to stay hidden.

Every time you had to go out into the city, it was agonizing. You were no longer just scared, you were tired.

Tired of always having your guard up. Tired of lying awake at night, wondering if tomorrow would be the last day you’d be able to hide. Tired of all of it.

You didn’t deserve any of it, you didn’t do anything wrong…

But you still were being made to suffer like you were, and you didn’t know how much longer you could do it.

You were leaning against the side of a beaten-up food truck downtown, waiting on your order. No cameras, no names, cash only, and you couldn’t get cornered. A quick getaway was easier here than if you’d gone indoors somewhere with exits that could get blocked.

But it meant that the cold air was beginning to bite at your fingertips. It wouldn’t be too long until you were warming them up with your order as you walked back to your room for the night. Your breath would have to do for now, wispy puffs of it slipping from between your fingers and up into the air. It was a quiet moment where you could just breathe.

But it didn’t last for long.

“I knew it.”

Your first instinct was to run. You practically threw yourself off the side of the truck when your frantic gaze finally found where the voice had come from.

But you froze, your voice caught in your throat.

It was Colin.

“I thought that was you.” he seemed so relieved, like he’d been so… worried?

And there was that smile you couldn’t stop thinking about, and you could feel that same familiar warmth in your chest, despite the cold.

But you felt stuck. How was he here? In a city with millions of people in it, what were the chances that the two of you would run into each other again?

“It’s good to see you.” He stood in place, maybe seeing how nervous you seemed. “Are you… good?”

You didn’t know how to answer him. You wanted to talk with him, maybe just to be near him again, maybe just to hear his voice. But it wasn’t safe out in the open. You didn’t know who exactly was after you, or what they wanted with you, but that meant you also didn’t know if they would hurt Colin if they saw you with him.

He took your silence for what it was.

“Hey, are you free? Can we talk?” He asked, looking hopeful.

A beat, then you nodded. But you told him it couldn’t happen right then. You checked your phone, asking him if you could meet him in an hour.

“Okay!” He quickly agreed, not even trying to hide his nervous smile. “Where should we meet?”

Just to be safe, not to say it out loud, you told him to meet you where the two of you’d first met, your “special place”. He grinned, saying the phrase to himself under his breath as started to walk off.

He froze, thinking something over, before stepping back to you quickly and taking your hand in his, giving it a squeeze.

“Promise you’ll come?” You’d never seen what could almost be called “puppy dog eyes” on a grown man before, but they were practically pleading with you as he held your hand.

It was cheesy, but your heart raced. You hoped he didn’t notice you trying to avoid eye contact.

You agreed, and though he seemed reluctant to let go, eventually he did, and you watched him slip away into the crowd.

A few minutes later, the food truck vendor called your number, and normally you weren’t one to eat on the move, but you felt like you needed to get moving.

It was a bit of a trek to the motel, and you took a lot of side streets jut in case, but there weren’t a lot of places in the city where you knew you wouldn’t be spotted. And a lot of the public transportation had cameras, so walking was really your only option nowadays. But you also just… wanted to go back there again. Once you finally got there, it all just felt…

Right.

You’d been so on edge the last few weeks, you never really felt safe anywhere. Every new room or building was just a place you could exist. But here, you felt like you knew what everything meant. Like it was all going to be okay.

And you knew it was because of him.

Just like that first night, he answered the door, but he was almost like a different person.

He was still kind of a mess, but there was something in his eyes. He looked less… lost. Kinder. Much less nervous. But the way he looked at you had changed the most.

You weren’t afraid of him, or what he might do. Not anymore.

“I didn’t know you were coming, so this is all I have…” He handed you a mug, the little pod coffee machine having just finished up.

You smiled, telling him it was okay. The coffee was wonderful after you’d been out in the cold. He was making a cup for himself now, trying to choose between the little pod flavors.

The machine whirred away as it made his coffee, he looked like he was trying to say something, but it seemed like he finally tried because as he stirred in a bit of sugar, he let it out.

“I… I really missed you.” He muttered, maybe hoping you wouldn’t hear him. But he perked up with this bright, dumbstruck look when you finally said that you’d missed him too.

“You did?” He seemed genuinely surprised, like he would’ve never expected you to say that in a million years. “That… that makes me kinda happy, won’t lie…”

A minute of somewhat awkward silence as he finished preparing his coffee, you still sipping away at yours with a comfortable smile behind the mug where he couldn’t see. It had been a bit since you’d been able to smile like this.

“How, uh… How are you holdin’ up these days?” he asked, plopping down next to you.

The almost automatic, small talk response of “Fine” nearly slipped past your lips, but even the thought of saying it felt so… upsetting? Wrong? Like you didn’t want to lie to him.

Colin seemed to pick up on the change, because his face clouded with worry. Setting his coffee down, his hand crept towards yours, hesitation, then his fingers brushed yours. Despite yourself, despite all your uncertainty, you laced your fingers with his.

Everything just kept spilling out of you. You finally told him about everything. How you’d just been a normal person living a normal life and then it all changed in an instant. How you’d been out on the streets for a long while, how you were hiding from someone-or maybe a few someones, you weren’t sure-who wanted to hurt you? Or track you down, at the very least. There was so much you still didn’t know.

And how you just couldn’t keep it up. How every day felt worse than the last and it was just so hard to keep going, or… to keep finding a reason to at all.

Suddenly, you were pulled against him, pressed into his chest as he held you close to him. A pang of guilt in your gut, you hadn’t meant to dump that particular feeling onto him. But, when you’d reflexively tried to apologize, you couldn’t even finish the word “sorry” before he held on tighter, shaking his head.

He held you for a long while. It wasn’t uncommon for him to have fallen asleep to the sound of your heartbeat, and you could see the appeal now. When you finally pulled back, you’d calmed down a bit. With him so close, you really got a good look.

It was impossible not to notice the state of him. His disheveled, greasy hair and the slump to his posture, the horribly tired look in his eyes. The dark circles were just as bad as the day the two of you’d met.

You asked him.

Did he not find someone else?

“Someone else?” he asked. He seemed confused.

Someone else to sleep beside, after you were gone.

His palm held your cheek so gently. His hands were a tiny bit cold, but you found that you didn’t mind.

“I didn’t look,” he sighed. “Ever since you left, I’ve just been… surviving.”

That same pang of guilt hit you. Did he really not? Or was he just trying to seem…

Loyal? Committed? But why?

“I was really hoping I’d see you again.” His hand left you, and you hated how you wished it wouldn’t. “You just left without saying goodbye.”

Some part of you was still trying to push him away, telling yourself that you didn’t owe him a goodbye. That it wasn’t your fault if he had felt…

Disappointed? Empty? Maybe even a bit abandoned…

It felt both wrong and cheap when you offered a simple apology, when you told him you didn’t know if you could do it when he was there. But…

“But you had to move on.” he offered, a tired smirk silently telling you he understood. Or at least you hoped. “I was kind of worried though… Your note made it sound like you were in some kinda trouble…which I guess was true.”

The note that you’d rewritten so many times that day, you’d been worried you’d run out of time before Colin got back that day. It had so briefly explained your situation, and what you thought he needed, and maybe deserved, to know.

Colin,

I have to leave, and you’re reading this, so I’m already gone, I hope.

It’s not safe for me to stay in one place for too long.

I want to, but I can’t stay.

I felt safe here, with you. You don’t know how much that meant to me these days.

I know you’ll find someone to help you sleep, but it can’t be me anymore.

Thank you for helping me,

And when you’d been about to sign your name at the bottom, you’d worried, maybe needlessly, that it would leave a sign of where you’d been. If the wrong person could see it, Colin could get caught in the middle of all this.

But it felt wrong not to.

So you did.

It was just a simple thing meant to be a simple goodbye, to make leaving him seem easier. But it hadn’t gotten any easier.

Colin seemed uneasy with how quiet you were being. He seemed to be searching for what to say, but he was getting… sidetracked.

You noticed his eyes kept darting down, then sharply meeting your gaze with a few flustered blinks, like he was trying so hard not to be obvious.

He was watching your lips. And when your eyes lowered with an amused grin, you swore he blushed all the way to his chest.

“S-sorry, I didn’t mean nothin’ by it. You… You just, well, more like I just got uh…”

You offered one word: Distracted? And he squeezed his eyes shut in a panic, lips pressed in a thin line as he dragged a hand down his face.

You didn’t know where it was coming from, but you boldly asked him:

Do I distract you?

“Yes.”

You froze, wondering if you’d heard him right. His eyes were avoiding yours, but his words were more direct than you’d ever heard from him.

“I can’t stop thinking about you…” He muttered behind his hand, still looking away. “ I never stopped.”

It was such an uncharacteristically forward thing for him to say that for a moment, you just froze. While you were still processing it, he kept going.

“I’ve lost so much of myself. I barely knew who I was anymore. But with you…” His breath was shaky, and he was idly tugging at a loose thread in the bedspread. “With you, I can feel myself becoming… a person again.”

Before you could ask him what he meant by that, he still wasn’t finished.

“If you leave, everything… it’ll all go back.” he muttered. “Back to what it was, who I would be… I… I don’t want to go back to that. You’re the only thing keeping me here.”

You questioned: Here?, your eyes darting to the room around the two of you.

“No!” He sounded pained, dipping his head in exasperation, looking so worn down. “No… no, here. Here.”

He held his head in his hand, breathing heavier.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been here, really fully here, w-without anything creeping in.” The room was so eerily, suffocatingly quiet apart from his forced words. “If I go back there now, it’ll be so much harder to find my way back. Here. To you.”

You weren’t sure you really understood the panic in his words, but if you being here really was helping him, even a bit…

Taking his hand in yours, your thumb grazed the back of his hand as you figured out what to say.

“I need you…” he whispered, looking almost ashamed of himself.

You told him the same. You needed him. And that was the truth.

His eyes were wide, and then it was your turn to avoid him looking at you.

And… more than that…

You felt your face getting hot, but you pressed on and said it.

More than that, you wanted him.

You felt his hand on your cheek, and his lips swiftly pressed to yours.

It was intense and sudden, but it was true. You wanted him. Grabbing his shirt, you pulled him closer, softly moaning against his lips.

“I want you… It’s been so long… since I wanted anyone… Anything.” he gasped between each kiss.

Somehow, you knew what he meant. Running for so long, wanting someone… something, was practically a luxury. You had to focus on what you needed, what would keep you alive and safe.

But Colin…

Needing him was easy.

You wanted every bit of him.

He pulled back, just enough to pepper your cheek, your jaw, your neck, your shoulder with those same desperate kisses.

“Stay…” he pleaded, pressing himself close to you. “Please… stay with me. It hurts…”

He held your hand to his chest, and you could feel how hard his heart was pounding. His head dropped to your shoulder, the heat of his breath on your neck.

“It hurts when you’re not with me… When you disappeared, it felt like my heart got ripped out. Everything was so… numb.”

He kissed at your neck, pressing in further when you scrunched up at the sensation.

“I won’t let you go again.” He muttered into your skin, his teeth grazing it as he panted. “Stay with me… here.”

His lips on yours again, his hand crept to your thigh. Hesitant. Waiting for some sign of your discomfort or rejection.

But it never came.

You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him with you as you leaned back. He pulled back, still panting, his eyes searching your face.

You told him to stop worrying. That you weren’t going anywhere.

And that was all he needed.

· · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ✦ · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

“Are you up?” A soft voice called to you, the light of the new morning spilling into the room through the blinds.

Half-awake, you pressed yourself against his chest, tucking yourself further into the arms wrapped around you.

You stirred at the laugh he couldn't help but let out, a deep rumble in his chest under your head. Running his fingers through your hair, you seemed to settle at his touch, sighing softly against him. He wondered if you were really asleep or just being stubborn.

“You’re holdin’ on tight… such a cuddlebug… Bug. My lil’ lovebug.” he muttered to himself, a hand rubbed soft, little circles in the small of your back. “… It’s hard to believe you’re actually mine, bug. All mine…”

He kissed the top of your head, and you smiled a little bit in your sleep. He had to bite his free hand to keep it under control, to keep it from touching you like he had that night. He missed your noises, the face you made when he kept getting you so close and then slowing down again, hearing you beg and plead for something you were too wound up to really put into words.

He hoped you would stay here with him this time.

He wanted you to be his, but he… he wasn’t sure he wanted to force you. Not yet at least.

He’d already crossed a line he couldn’t come back from. And he was going to keep that to himself. If you ever found out…

You’d been so hard to find.

He’d spent weeks putting out feelers for you. Looking around places to get cheap, warm food and a bed for the night. You stayed away from places with a lot of cameras and anywhere you had to be I.D.’d, so you weren’t gonna get found like that.

Using his new management persona, he’d asked around the bigger crime folks the old boss was associated with if anyone was trying to find you.

And eventually, it all paid off.

· · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ✦ · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

A few days earlier…

In an “office” downtown, which was really more of a crappy apartment above a seedy massage parlor, Colin met a man.

His business associates called him “The P.I.”. Whispers in the wrong circles said that this was the guy you hired when you wanted to find someone, but couldn’t risk a paper trail. He wasn’t cheap, and he was willing to get his hands dirty, but he usually got the job done. And discreetly at that. It helped that he wasn’t a real private investigator. Just some asshole who could get shit done.

“Now we can discuss things properly.” Colin sighed, wiping his knife on his jacket lining.

“I noticed you following them, and it was just too easy to follow you back.” He laughed. “And some contacts of mine said that you advertise yourself as a P.I., but really you’re a killer…”

But The P.I. didn’t respond. Or rather, he couldn’t.

“Now, I dunno your side of the story. Maybe you’re just some hired gun protecting your boss by tying up some loose ends. Maybe it’s person? Maybe you loved them and they rejected you, do you have a hard time takin’ no for an answer, my guy? Maybe someone else loved them and used you to get them back, whether they want to or not.”

He walked around to the back of the man, gasping on the floor, clutching at his neck.

“Hell, maybe you’re like me. Maybe you just want to kill. Maybe the thought of their blood between their fingers is the only thing that makes you feel alive. Part of me can understand that. Maybe…”

He groaned, crouching down.

“Maybe maybe maybe maybe…” Colin muttered, shaking his head. Dragging a hand down his face, skin tugging down with it, somehow soothed his tired eyes. “Too many unknowns, too many fuckin’ variables here. I’m done, ya know? With you gone, my little bug’ll feel safe. That’s all I give a shit about.”

The man’s eyes were darting around, like he was still trying to find a way out of this alive.

“Now… maybe- god, there’s that fuckin’ word again… But you might have friends, out there somewhere. They might want to get revenge, or finish what you started, for whatever the reason. So, nothing personal. But I think I’ll just…”

A sudden stab to the man’s gut, and a wet, gurgled scream somehow managed to escape.

“Yeah, I think I’ll use you to… send a message.”

. . .

He usually wasn’t one for theatrics in his kills. No fuss, no muss. They usually just “disappeared”. He had no impulsive, childish desires to play with them or open them up to see what made them tick.

You wouldn’t know it, looking at his handiwork here.

He made a mess. Nothing too dark, like a weirdo art project to taunt whoever would find him and care. But enough to say that whoever had hired him shouldn’t have.

He found a “file” on you, if you could even call it that. Photos, habits, ways to find you, names you might go by… How you were meant to be killed. Someone had hired that man. He sighed, not remorseful, but almost annoyed. He’d gotten a lot of… joy? Something like that, out of imagining he was killing a former lover of yours or another stalker, competition either way.

But, this also (annoyingly) meant that this wasn’t over.

A pause. His thoughts raced as he put the pieces together.

This meant…

This meant that you still needed him.

He’d come here with the intention of keeping you safe, he knew that. He’d considered not telling you he’d come here, or what he’d done, so you’d stay scared. Uneasy. Dependent.

So you’d stay with him. Lie next to him at night, hold him, be held by him.

But now, he wouldn’t need to lie…

Maybe…

Maybe… you’d even love him.

He smiled, biting his lip, your face the only thing he could picture. He’d never felt so… light. So… happy? Like the thought of you made him so detached from everything else in the world, tethered by you to everything he was or would ever be. You were everything.

This was love. It had to be.

· · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ✦ · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

Someone was looking for you. The details were under wraps, but someone out there was desperate to find you, and he knew that they wanted you dead.

And they had a rough idea of where you were.

He needed you. He wanted you. And once he knew why you were so closed off, why you’d built up those walls, he’d had an idea.

He would keep his eyes on you and anyone else after you, and steer them in the wrong direction. No one else was going to touch you.

So making you a little more afraid would leave you no option but to come back to him.

You needed someone to trust. And he needed you to trust him.

In the time you’d left him, whenever he’d see you freeze in your tracks on the street, trying not to let on how scared you were at whatever you did or didn’t really hear, his chest ached. He wanted to be with you, holding your hand, letting you know he was yours, that you’d be okay. But he couldn’t, back then.

Not until he was sure you were his. For good.

And he’d done it! He’d led you back to him. You were lying against him and he could feel your body heat, listen to the sound of your breathing, watch the rise and fall of your chest. And just as he'd felt before, he felt his muscles relax, his eyes felt heavy... You were here. And everything was exactly as it should be.

“You’re mine, Bug.” He kissed the top of your head, holding you in his arms. “I’m never lettin' you go again…”

· · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ✦ · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

this took FOREVER lol

it just kept gettin longer and longer, and then i kept having to go back and re-read my own writing to make everything at all coherent D:

but it's done! more Colin writing could happen, but this is the end of the "main" story. i will take writing suggestions/requests for Colin and his Bug, if only to get the creative juices flowing again

the nsft scene at the beginning is as explicit as im gonna get without like a sperate nsfw account i can verify ages on lol, i don't write a lot of straight up smut, and i like that kind of writing when things are more alluded to rather than relying on over-describing everything with words that make my little ace brain feel fried 😐 (it's not that bad lol, but i know some of y'all ain't 18, and trying to purge/verify 1000+ people sounds exhausting)

followers/reader who asked to be tagged, i remembered y'all :3 :

@lost-in-the-night-skiess @unabridgedjournalsofaloser @iamapotatoe @fem-dom-roze @caged-birdies-blog @fandangoballs @ameliachastain @ssak-i @thigh-o-saur @sharkcravingcables @btsgangleader @httpsgiaiko @satoru2716 @greatwitchsongsinger

(hopefully that's everybody)

im pretty sure this is all well and edited, but knowing me i'll re-read it again and find a typo or an unfinished sentence and fix it.

until next time ✌️

-minty

1K notes · View notes

afterglowsainz · 7 months ago

Text

positions | max verstappen

pairing: actress!reader x max verstappen

summary: your situationship from high school becomes a four time world champion and you send him a text congratulating him, opening the door to see him again

fc: zendaya

warnings: weird timeline, don’t pay attention to it

a/n: i’m finally back home so i can now post the celebration for max’s fourth championship (insane) (he deserves it so much) (i actually haven’t moved on from brazil)

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yuujispinkhair · 9 months ago

Text

Cowboy Sukuna (Part 1)

Sukuna became a cowboy so he wouldn't have to let anyone tell him what to do. And because he wanted to put some distance between himself and his little brother so Sukuna wouldn't drag him into his mess. Sukuna is made for the lonesome cowboy life. He doesn't need anyone by his side. He isn't looking for love. At least that's what he thinks until he meets you, a pretty girl in a flowery dress and cowboy boots who somehow knows how to tear Sukuna's walls down.

Cowboy!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: Cowboy AU, fluff + smut Word Count: 7.5k Playlist: Cowboy Sukuna Warnings: 18+, smut, cigarettes, alcohol, fistfights, blood. Minors don't interact. This story is inspired by @sweetlandspos fanart of Cowboy Sukuna (also this is the selfie he sends Reader). I saw him and fell in love, and I just HAD to write a story about this sexy cowboy. Divider @/benkeibear. The art in the header was used with permission from @/sweetlandspos

Sukuna grew up thinking he belonged nowhere. He can't even remember his dad and his mama didn't want him either. He was raised by his grandpa, but Sukuna was a wild one, a rebel and troublemaker, famous in his small town but for all the wrong reasons. He got all those tattoos when he was far too young, got into all those fistfights, broke all those hearts, and even got into trouble with the cops once. His gramps told Sukuna he was a bad influence on his little brother, so when Sukuna was old enough, he left it all behind and bought this old ranch in the middle of nowhere.

He renovated the old farmhouse all by himself and built his own life out here. A life he could be proud of. It's a lonely life. No wife, no kids, not even a girlfriend. Just Sukuna and his dog and horse and the cows. And lots of hard work. But it's what Sukuna tells himself he wants. The bad boy cowboy never even considered getting married. He doesn't think he is made for love. He isn't even sure he deserves it or is capable of it. Sukuna enjoys life out here in the middle of nowhere and tells himself he doesn't need anyone by his side, anyway.

If he wants to fuck, he can drive to town and flirt his way into some pretty girl's bed. It's never anything serious. Just a few hours of fun and then Sukuna is gone again. No goodbye kiss, no exchange of phone numbers. The only thing he leaves behind are some muddy bootprints on her front porch, and some cigarette ash flicked out of his car window.

Sukuna doesn't expect to ever find love or even want to find it. And he certainly doesn't think that he will meet his future wife on a random Tuesday morning in the shabby old hardware store he has been frequenting for years.

He got into his pickup truck at sunrise, driving several hours to the small town to buy some things in the hardware store, and that's where he runs into you, a sweet little thing in a flowery dress and pretty cowboy boots, wringing your hands nervously when Sukuna has some questions regarding the pond supplies he wants to buy.

He grins at you, taking his cowboy hat off and nodding at you respectfully, all polite because contrary to what he looks like with all his tattoos and the intimidating height and muscular build, he can be a gentleman if he wants to, and you seem like such a sweetheart, Sukuna thinks you deserve his best charming self.

You tell him it's your first day working here and you have to check with your boss. You apologize profusely to Sukuna, and he can't stop the smirk from spreading over his tattooed face because you are so damn cute.

He tells you, "It's okay, ma'am, I have time.", and watches you get all flustered before you hurry to the back of the store.

You return a few minutes later with a warm smile on your face and answer Sukuna's questions, showing him around and also helping him pick some other things he says he needs (which he doesn't, but he likes the way you smile at him and the way your sweet flowery perfume fills his nose anytime you move).

You even insist on helping him load the items into his pickup truck,

"See it as compensation for my earlier lack of fishing pond knowledge."

And Sukuna laughs and thanks you,

"There is nothing you have to compensate for. I am very pleased with your service."

He eyes the nameplate attached to your dress and addresses you by your name, letting it roll off his tongue in his low, velvety voice that he knows girls find sexy. Sukuna can see that you are affected by his charm, and he grins broadly at you when he tips his cowboy hat in a farewell. And you smile so sweetly at him, and Sukuna is pretty sure you really mean it when you tell him to come back again soon.

Sukuna is back in town only a week later, picking up a new saddle he ordered at the local saddler, but he drives past the hardware store on his way back, and something makes him slow down, makes him take one last deep drag from his cigarette and then flick the cigarette butt out the open window before Sukuna pulls into the small parking lot.

Sukuna tells himself it's a good idea to have a little look around when he already made the long drive into town anyway. He could use a new toolbox. The old one is still functioning, but this new one comes with a sweet girl in a cute little skirt and those shiny cowboy boots. Sukuna spends thirty minutes in the little shop until he finally sees you coming out from the back.

Your gaze meets his, and he sees the way your eyes widen just as Sukuna grins at you, tipping his cowboy hat in greeting and casually strolling over to you.

You smile brightly at him, remembering him (Of course you do. Sukuna knows he always leaves an impression), greeting him by his name, and asking him how you can be of help.

Sukuna cocks his head, a lazy smirk spreading over his handsome, tattooed face, letting his gaze travel over your pretty face and cute curves, thinking that he definitely knows some things you could help him with. He is pretty sure he could have you in his truck in no time at all, his calloused hands slipping under your cute little skirt while your pretty mouth moans his name. But something makes him hold back.

It's untypical for Sukuna. He drove all the way to town and will only be here for a few hours. Usually, he makes good use of that time to get his fill of some sweet pussy wrapped around his cock to keep him satisfied for the long lonely nights to come once he is back home again, riding over the plains, herding his cows.

But Sukuna looks at your sweet smile and your genuine kindness, and it doesn't feel right to only fuck you and then leave again to never see you again.

And so Sukuna doesn't try to get under your skirt but instead leans down to grin at you and ask you to help him pick a nice new toolbox.

He walks out of the store an hour later, not just with a new toolbox but also a new BBQ grill, some lawn chairs, and a saddle bag he could have gotten in much better quality at the saddler he just came from. But it's okay because it meant that he could spend a whole hour with you in the shitty little hardware store, letting you show him around, talking to him in your sweet voice with the thick accent, while Sukuna watched your little skirt sway around your knees.

You accompany him to his truck again, and Sukuna smirks at you like the devil that he is, asking in a teasing voice,

"Is this some new service your store offers? Helping every customer load their stuff into their cars? Or is this a special service just for me?"

His smirk grows bigger when he sees how flustered you get once again, and he adds,

"No need to get all shy on me, sweetheart. I like being your favorite customer."

You giggle nervously but smile that bright smile at him again and quickly ask him where he lives and what he's doing for a living. And Sukuna laughs and points at his cowboy hat,

"This is what I'm doing. The hat isn't just a sexy accessory."

"Oh? So you're really a cowboy?"

"Yeah, as real as you can meet one. I have my own ranch a few hours from here. Just me and my animals."

You smile at him, getting a slightly dreamy look in your eyes, telling him,

"That sounds nice."

Sukuna doesn't know why his chest feels so fluttery and warm the whole drive home. He even catches himself humming along softly to one of those stupid, catchy lovesongs playing on the country station on his shitty old car radio.

Cowboy Sukuna doesn't know what it is, but lately, he keeps coming to town more often than usual. It's Friday night, and he's sitting in the small bar with the roses on the wooden sign above the old-fashioned saloon doors.

Sukuna is drinking whiskey with some rancher who wants to buy several cows from him, when Sukuna suddenly sees you. All pretty and sexy without knowing it, in your blue jeans and the cropped blouse, laughing unrestrainedly with your girls after a long work day.

Sukuna can't take his eyes off you. He watches you over the rim of his whiskey glass, feeling that strange warmth in his chest again. He's about to put his glass down and walk over to you when he sees a guy bump into you.

The asshole is acting as if it was by accident, but he is far too handsy for Sukuna's taste. Standing much too close to you, his shoulders brushing against yours, his mouth at your ear, saying something to you.

Sukuna grits his teeth.

You smile politely at the guy, laughing awkwardly, not at all like when you laugh with Sukuna. You are uncomfortable. That much is clear to see, but Sukuna can tell you are a good girl who was taught to always be nice and polite, even to that guy with the grabby hands. That pathetic worm puts a hand on your hip, and Sukuna sees red.

He slams his whiskey glass down on the table and crosses the small bar in a few large steps, grabbing that handsy guy and pulling him off you with an angry growl. Sukuna slams him into the wall, glaring at him, his voice low and dangerous,

"Get your dirty hands off her, or I'll fucking kill you!"

Your wide, surprised eyes stare at Sukuna, and that nameless guy screams and tries to punch him, but Sukuna just laughs about the pathetic attempt and drags him further away from you, grabbing him by the collar as Sukuna's right fist connects with the asshole's face.

Sukuna has always been good at fistfights. He is a rough guy, a dirty fighter, sadistic when someone pisses him off. He tried to stay out of trouble those last few years, but tonight, he is not restraining his anger, not when it comes to protecting you.

He smirks devilishly at the guy when that asshole manages to land a hit on Sukuna's face. It just manages to rile Sukuna up even more. He laughs and taunts that loser for hitting like a little boy before Sukuna attacks again and sends the guy tumbling to the floor with the next hard punch.

It's then that your small, soft hands wrap around Sukuna's tattooed biceps, and your sweet voice says his name with so much worry that it makes Sukuna stop going after that guy on the floor. He just jerks his head at the guy, telling him to get lost,

"If you know what's good for you, you better stay a mile away from that sweet lady in the future. Now apologize to her."

And the guy scrambles to his feet, mumbling a sorry before he flees from the bar and from Sukuna.

Sukuna slowly turns around, running a tattooed hand through his pink hair. He wipes his split lip on his sleeve, gives you a lopsided grin, and asks if you are okay.

And you stare at him with big, worried eyes, taking in the blood on his tattooed face, but a small smile plays around your lips as you tell Sukuna,

"Thank you for getting him away from me. I am fine... but what about you? Your lip... let me fix that, please."

You take Sukuna's large hand in your smaller one, tugging gently on it, and Sukuna follows you out of the bar.

You lead him down the road to your small house, inviting him in, not to have sex with him, but to patch him up, and somehow it feels a lot more intimate than all the times combined that Sukuna went home with another girl.

You are so sweet to him, scolding him for getting into a fight and getting himself hurt, but your fingers are so gentle when you wipe the blood off Sukuna's face and put a band-aid on his split lip. You smile softly as you trace the tattoos on Sukuna's jaw with your fingers and whisper a thank you to him.

"Thank you for protecting me from that guy and teaching him a lesson. You're a good guy."

And Sukuna laughs roughly, grinning at you and shaking his head,

"That's a first. Usually, I get called the opposite."

And you laugh with him, your soft fingers still cupping his chin and touching his tattoos oh so gently, insisting that even though he looks like a bad boy, Sukuna seems really nice.

Sukuna is so close to just pulling you on his lap and kissing you, but he refrains from doing it. Because he knows where it would lead, and for once in his life, Sukuna doesn't want a one-night stand. He doesn't want to fuck you and then drive back to his life out on the ranch to never see you again.

He doesn't want that with you. He wants to see you again, and he wants to take things slow. He wants to court you in an old-fashioned way.

Sukuna eats the homemade pie you bring him and drinks the coffee you insist he should drink before he drives back home. He thanks you politely for playing nurse for him and for feeding him, looking at you with the most charming smile he can give you with his split lip. And you tell him he is welcome and that he knows now where to find you if he ever needs someone to patch him up again.

Sukuna returns a week later to the hardware store, not because he needs to buy anything, but for you. He sees you smile when you spot him leaning casually against a wooden fence display, twirling his cowboy hat in his fingers and smirking that lazy grin at you.

You only have eyes for him, forgetting what you want to say to the customers you are serving. Looking at them in confusion and stuttering an excuse before your gaze wanders back to Sukuna. And Sukuna's smirk grows bigger.

He didn't even dress nice. He is just wearing his typical black jeans and cowboy boots, and one of the flannel shirts he always wears on the ranch. But he knows he looks good anyway. Sukuna knows the ladies love his handsome face and his tall and strong body with all those well-defined muscles from all the hard work. And his pink hair and tattoos are very popular with the country girls, too. They all get weak in the knees for a bad boy like Sukuna.

But somehow, he doesn't want to be a bad boy when it comes to you. A strange warmth spreads through Sukuna's chest when you leave the other customers standing and come over to him with that big smile on your pretty face, greeting him and telling him that it's nice to see him again.

No, Sukuna doesn't want to be an asshole or a bad boy when it comes to you. He wants to be a good man for you. He is polite to you, sweet, and respectful. A true cowboy and gentleman.

He grins his boyish grin at you, cocking his head and drawls,

"I thought I should stop by to check on you. Make sure there aren't any weird guys I have to fistfight for you."

Sukuna flirts with you and makes you laugh and giggle until your boss gives you side eyes and informs you that you shouldn't pester customers. But Sukuna turns to the man, towering over him,

"She is just helping me decide which products to buy. You shouldn't berate her but rather give her a raise. This sweet lady is the best thing about this shitty store. The only reason I keep coming back."

You burst out laughing the moment your boss has left and Sukuna thinks his stomach has never felt so fluttery. He asks you when your shift is over and if he can take you out for dinner. He is delighted when you say yes.

Sukuna waits until your shift is over and then leads you to his old pickup truck, holding open the door for you, giving you a hand, and helping you climb into it. His hand rests a bit longer than necessary on the small of your back, but you don't seem to mind.

He takes you to a cozy little restaurant that he has been to several times before. Always alone because Sukuna never went on dates in the past. But the elderly lady who owns the restaurant always tells Sukuna that she knows the type of cowboy Sukuna is from the time when she was still a young girl.

"Oh, I have had several boys like you in my life. Y'all are such handsome devils, but always breaking hearts everywhere you go because you are always running from something, and you don't even know from what. I wish for you to find the right girl one day. And if you do, bring her here."

And now Sukuna is here with you, walking into the restaurant with his arm wrapped lightly around you, catching the knowing gaze of the old lady behind the counter. She leads the two of you to a table on the patio, all romantic with wildflowers in a mason jar and fairy lights overhead.

Sukuna has never been on a real date, but he likes this. He likes to be here with you, chat with you, laugh with you, and hold your hand on the table, watching his long tattooed fingers interlace with your smaller ones, which feel so soft.

The hours slip by without either of you noticing how late it is.

When it is time to bring you home, Sukuna drives you to your house, parks the truck in front of it, and turns to you to say the typical flirty stuff that he usually says to girls, but he stops when he sees your smile, and somehow anything he usually says seems so hollow and fake, and it wouldn't be right to say it to you.

Sukuna closes his mouth again, gulping hard, the bad boy cowboy at a loss for words for the first time in his life.

This feeling is new to Sukuna. All of this is new to him. This warmth in his chest and the fluttery feeling in his stomach. And how he is so damn scared to fuck things up and lose you before you even are his.

How can Sukuna even say anything at all to you when everything he wants to tell you is so fucking raw and loaded with feelings he has never felt before? When it all makes him feel so fucking vulnerable?

Like the fact that Sukuna really enjoys spending time with you and that he wants to see you again. Or that he is pretty sure he gets butterflies when hearing your laugh. Or that he never believed in love, but he thinks he is starting to do it now.

He can't say those things, can he?

In the end, it doesn't need any words from him. You smile at him and thank him for the lovely evening, adding a bit shyly that you aren't used to going on dates, and then stutter because you realize what you said and you are worried that it wasn't really a date and you made a fool of yourself by assuming it was one.

And Sukuna can't help but grin and then do the one thing that will shut you up and hopefully ease your worries:

He kisses you right there in his truck. Cups your chin with his calloused hand and brushes his lips softly over yours. Careful, gentle. Something Sukuna usually isn't, but you bring out some part of him that was dormant until now.

Sukuna wants this kiss to be special. He wants to be gentle with you because you are gentle with him, too. You are sweet and kind. You treat him as if he is deserving of tenderness.

You make a cute, surprised sound, but don't pull away. Instead, your hand lands on Sukuna's neck, caressing the short stubble of his undercut, pulling him closer as your lips begin to move against his, too, and Sukuna can't help but smile into the sweetest kiss he ever had.

When the two of you pull apart again, Sukuna smiles at you, a genuine, soft smile, and tells you,

"It was absolutely a date. And I had a lovely evening, too, princess. Let me take you out to dinner again soon."

Sukuna watches you get out of his truck and walk to your front door. He lifts a hand to give you a little wave when you turn around in the open doorway to smile at him once again, whisper-shouting to him that you wish him a safe drive home.

Sukuna stays in his truck outside your house until the light in your living room goes on, and he knows you are safe and sound before he finally pulls out of your driveway and makes his long way home, his thoughts filled with your smile and the taste of your sweet lips and tongue in his mouth.

Sukuna stays true to the promise he made to himself and really takes things slow with you. He has to work anyway, look after his ranch, fix some fences, and ride across the plains, where he meets no other human being for several days. But you are on his mind the whole time.

He sends you pictures from his rides when he is lucky and gets a signal. Selfies of him on horseback, grinning at you with a cigarette dangling from the corner of his lips. And some pics of some of his cows, smiling when you ask for their names.

"They don't have names. I just numbered them. But you can give them names if you like, sweetheart."

And you do. You send Sukuna the stupidest names you can think of, and he can't stop grinning,

"I sure hope you won't be in charge of naming any kids."

"Well, I will let their daddy help choose the names if he has such a problem with my name-giving skills."

And Sukuna's head spins at the implication. You're a tease in such a sweet way, and it drives him completely insane.

But Sukuna knows he drives you crazy for him, too. He knows that as much as you like the normal pictures he sends you, you also love the thirst traps he blesses you with.

The pictures where he is shirtless, all his tattoos and defined muscles on display for you, sweat glistening on his strong body, his faded, ripped jeans sitting low on his hips and doing nothing to hide the massive bulge throbbing in them.

You send him pictures, too, not as shameless as the thirst traps Sukuna sends you, but enough to drive him crazy. He has never held himself back so long, but damn, he thinks you are worth all the hard-ons he has and only his own hand to take care of them. Sure, Sukuna could drive to the next bar and find a random girl to ease that pressure, but he doesn't want it. There is only one girl he wants.

Sukuna can wait. He knows you are worth it.

And as much as he wants to have you under him, leaving scratches on his back and squealing his name in pleasure, he also wants to just talk to you or maybe take you on a little ride on his horse.

He calls you every night just to hear your voice and ask about your day, laughing about all the rude customers at the hardware store. Sukuna asks you what you had for dinner and listens to all the latest gossip your mama told you. Sometimes, he falls asleep while listening to your sweet voice and sees a text from you in the morning telling him that he sounds cute when he snores.

Maybe that's ruining the bad-boy reputation that Sukuna has all over your small town, but he doesn't give a fuck. You can see this other side of him. You are the exception, and he finds that he likes that.

Sukuna visits the town as often as his ranch duties allow so he can take you on dates. Sometimes, he drives his old pickup truck, but sometimes, he takes his motorcycle, grinning at you when he parks it in front of your house and takes off his helmet, running a hand through his ruffled hair to smooth it down again, and telling you to come hop on so he can take you on a ride. And you raise an eyebrow jokingly,

"When you said you are a cowboy, I pictured a guy on a real horse..."

And there is this happy sparkle in your eyes, and that sweet laugh falling from your lips. And fuck, Sukuna knows he is a lost man.

He grins back at you, leaning down to greet you with a slow, deep kiss before he holds out his helmet to you,

"This cowboy will let you ride his horse soon, too, but for now, let me show you a bit more horsepower."

Sukuna loves the feeling of your body snuggling against his back, your hands wrapped tightly around his waist, your hands caressing his chest and his abs through his shirt, and your loud, excited laugh when Sukuna accelerates his bike and speeds down the dirt road leading to nowhere, leaving a cloud of dust and dirt behind.

Sukuna parks his motorcycle at a pretty pond and spreads out a picnic blanket in the grass. The two of you sit down to eat something, but it only takes a few minutes before the snacks are forgotten, and Sukuna rolls on top of you and kisses you until he feels dizzy, and you sigh into his mouth.

When you look up at him and touch his face, trace his tattoos with your fingertips, and smile at him, Sukuna knows that he has never been this genuinely happy in his life. But at the same time, it scares him. It terrifies him to feel so much.

He strolls down to the pond, smoking a cigarette while looking over the smooth surface of the water, trying to calm down and stop his fears from swallowing him. Trying to stop that voice in his head that whispers to him that this cowboy should do what he is best at and just run and isolate himself and live his life in solitude.

But your sweet laugh carries to Sukuna's ears as you run towards him, pulling him out of his dark thoughts. Your small hand wraps around his tattooed biceps, and you lean against his side,

"Hey cowboy, come back. I have some homemade lemonade and cake in my bag."

Sukuna turns his head to look at you, at the way you tilt your head to smile up at him, eyes full of affection. How could he walk away from this? Yeah, he is scared out of his mind of all those feelings, but he would regret it even more if he ran.

He blows out his cigarette smoke slowly as a lazy grin spreads over his face, and he leans down to press a kiss on your forehead.

"Homemade lemonade? You sure know the way to my heart, huh, princess?"

He lets you take his hand and pull him back to the picnic blanket, sipping your lemonade and letting you climb in his lap and feed him the cake you baked for him, and Sukuna wraps his arms around your waist, capturing your lips in a sweet, sexy kiss, hoping you can understand the silent promises his tongue writes against yours.

All the words he doesn't dare say out loud because they scare him. But Sukuna knows it's you for him. He knows that he wants by his side. He knows you are his girl and hopes he is your boy, too. He hopes he is a man who is deserving of you and your sweetness. Sukuna promises you silently that he will work damn hard to be that man.

It takes weeks before the two of you have sex.

Sukuna takes you on another date with his old truck this time, driving far out to watch the stars with you and lying in the bed of his truck with you in his arms.

He brought you flowers. The wild ones which grow on his ranch because he feels like you enjoy them more than the ones from the flower shops, and it makes him happy to see you with something from his life.

You thanked him with a sweet kiss and put some of the flowers in your hair, laughing when they fell out again, and Sukuna picked them up again and tucked them behind your ear.

And now those flowers are already out of your hair again, strewn all over the truck bed because the two of you are so lost in your deep tongue kisses and the feeling of your bodies grinding against each other.

The flowers are forgotten, just like the stars above. The only thing you know is each other's mouths and hands that tug on each other's clothes, craving more, needing skin-on-skin contact.

Sukuna's shirt has been long gone, and yours too, leaving you only in your lacey bra and the little skirt, driving Sukuna crazy. Your hands explore the naked skin of his broad back and his biceps, and your lips trail sweet kisses down Sukuna's neck, leaving your lipstick marks on him.

And Sukuna licks and kisses the swell of your breasts above your bra, finally pulling the pretty lacey thing down to reveal your even prettier tits. He sucks one nipple into his warm mouth as he looks up at your face, grinning when he sees your eyelashes flutter and hears the cute little noises you make for him.

You straddle Sukuna's lap, smiling at him with desire burning in your eyes while your small hands wander a bit shyly over his tattooed chest, and Sukuna thinks he will lose his mind if he doesn't finally take you.

He flips you over on your back, pushes his head under your skirt, and eats you out until your legs are shaking and your hands tug on his pink hair, and you cry out his name into the night.

You look up at Sukuna with parted lips and heavy-lidded eyes as you unbutton his jeans and get his achingly hard cock out, stroking him lovingly while you tell him to please make you his girl.

Sukuna has held back for so long but cannot do it anymore. Not when you look at him like that and stroke his cock like that and ask him to claim you. He pushes you down on the truck bed, his arms on each side of your head, his heavy body on top of yours, his lips claiming yours in a possessive, hungry kiss at the same time as his cock claims your sweet, warm pussy.

He takes you with hard, rough thrusts, fucking you almost feverishly once he feels your warm pussy around his cock. And for the first time in his life, Sukuna apologizes for the way he fucks. For his roughness, for his strength. But you cling to him and moan his name and tell him it's okay and that you want him exactly like this.

You leave scratches on Sukuna's back, and he fucks his seed into you over and over again. The two of you can't get enough of each other that night, making out and fucking in various positions until the sky becomes pink with the approaching sunrise, and both of you are sated and exhausted, and you slump against Sukuna's body, hugging him, pressing your tits firmly against his tattooed chest as his spent cock softens gradually inside you.

Sukuna lets his head fall back on the truck bed, his large hands lazily caressing your back, and he looks up at the sky that brings a new morning, thinking that it feels like it's a whole new life that is beginning today.

He drives you back to town an hour later, stealing glances at you the whole drive long, one tattooed hand resting on your naked thigh under your skirt, and your small hand lands on top of Sukuna's, caressing the back of his hand while you sing along to the country songs on the radio. Sukuna can't stop grinning the whole time.

But even after you start to have sex with each other, you still take time to get to know each other even better. It's fun and sexy but also deep and meaningful, and Sukuna catches himself being more open with you than he ever was with anyone before.

He tells you the truth when you ask about his family, tells you that it's messy, that he can't even remember his dad, and that his mama didn't want him either. He tells you about his little brother, who he hasn't seen in many years because Sukuna ran from home the moment he was 18. He confesses all the shit he did. All the stupid things a rebellious teenage Sukuna got involved in. All the trouble and pain he caused his family. All the regrets he has, when he looks back at his former life now.

And you take his large hand into both of yours and hold it so gently, and smile that sweet smile at him, telling him that sometimes families simply are like that. A mess.

You tell him that you like him the way he is, with all his rough edges, and that you wish Sukuna had more love in his life when he needed it the most as a child.

"But you have me now, Kuna. And I will make sure you don't feel alone."

You tear down his walls so easily, break him in the most beautiful way, and build him up again, even stronger than before, because now Sukuna knows what it feels like to be loved.

And Sukuna says those famous three words for the first time in his life.

He pulls you to him, holds you in his arms, and rests his chin on your head, swaying you softly from side to side as he murmurs those words into your hair, words he never thought he would say,

"I love you. And I want to be with you. I know it's hard to love a man like me, but I want this to work. I want you. I want us. And I will work hard for it."

He thinks he will melt when you tell him you love him too and that there is nothing hard about loving him at all.

For the first time in his life, Sukuna stays in someone's bed the whole night.

The two of you kiss at your front door, and you gently pull him inside. You kiss and laugh and playfully tease each other all the way to your bedroom, undressing each other on the way, leaving behind a trail of clothes on your floor.

You call him baby, and Sukuna thinks he will go crazy. He picks you up and carries you the rest of the way until he lays you down on your bed, his lips never leaving yours.

You don't fuck that night but make love, nice and slow. You look so beautiful lying under Sukuna, your face so close to his, your small hands caressing his biceps and his muscular back while Sukuna takes you with slow, deep thrusts, unable to tear his gaze away from you and the love in your eyes when you whisper his name.

Sukuna tells you he loves you again when he is about to cum, and it feels more intense than anything else he has ever experienced. Especially when he feels you cum on his cock, too, sobbing his name and returning the "I love you" several times while you shudder in pleasure beneath him.

Sukuna doesn't let go of you the whole night. He lets you use his chest as your pillow, wraps you in his strong arms, and holds you. The wild, freedom-loving cowboy who usually runs, suddenly all tame.

Sukuna thinks he is right where he should be. He wants to stay forever in your bed and in your arms, holding the girl he loves.

Of course, a cowboy like Sukuna has to leave again in the morning. His ranch needs him. There are miles and miles of fences to fix, horses to train, and cattle to herd. But Sukuna promises to call you every night.

"And if I don't have a signal, I want you to know that I will still think of you, okay princess? Let's make a deal. Every night at ten pm, I want you to look at the sky. And I'll do the same, wherever I am, and imagine you are by my side."

And he laughs softly and hugs you to his strong body, adding,

"I will think about you every second of the day anyway. And I am damn sure you can't get me out of your mind either, huh?"

He winks at you and grins his boyish grin, and you chuckle and get on your tiptoes to kiss his grin off him.

Before Sukuna drives off, you give him a leather cord with a small charm in the form of a horseshoe, telling him you saw it on the farmers market last weekend and thought of him.

"I want to give it to you because I hope it will bring you luck and keep you safe out there on all those lonely nights and long rides."

And Sukuna leaves his bandana at your place,

"So you have something to remind you of me while I am away, princess. Wear it around your pretty throat to keep the chilly winds away and to think of your favorite cowboy."

Sukuna calls you every day just like he promised.

But out here on the plains, where Sukuna is on horseback, with only his dog running along beside him, his life still feels lonely. This solitude used to be something Sukuna chose willingly for himself. Something he thought was the only life that was right for a man like him.

But now Sukuna feels this longing inside his chest, and the questions keep filling his mind. Does a cowboy really have to be alone? Does Sukuna really have to be alone?

His ranch and his life out here are the last parts of him, which Sukuna hasn't opened to you yet. It seemed too risky to bring you here, too intimate. This is the place, after all, where Sukuna fled to so he wouldn't hurt his little brother anymore. A place he used to see as some kind of fortress that kept other people safe from Sukuna and also kept him safe from feeling too much. A place where he was free from all the complications of human interactions.

But things have changed, haven't they?

Sukuna visits you as often as he can, and he catches himself telling you more about his everyday life as a cowboy while watching you closely for your reactions. He tells you what he loves about his life on the ranch, tells you that it is a lot of hard work and that it can be tough at times, but that it is also peaceful, and that he likes that he is free out there.

"I like that I am my own boss because I really don't do well with people trying to tell me what to do."

And you laugh and roll your eyes, and Sukuna grins at you with a wink and adds,

"Well, you are the exception, baby."

And as teasing and light-hearted as it sounds, Sukuna knows that he is telling the truth. He doesn't mind if you tell him what to do. He doesn't mind if he has to take responsibility for his actions. Not when it comes to you.

You beam at him and kiss his tattooed cheek and ask in that sweet voice,

"Will you finally show me your ranch, Sukuna?"

And he knows what you are really asking is for Sukuna to finally let you in. To let this last wall tumble to the ground and allow you into his life in every way.

Sukuna feels strangely nervous when driving you to his ranch. But not because he is scared of losing his last refuge. He is nervous because he is worried you won't like the life out here in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but endless miles of uninhabited land around you and only Sukuna and his animals to keep you company.

Sukuna hopes you will like it. Because there is this small voice in his mind that whispers to him, "I want her to stay."

Sukuna watches you carefully while he shows you around his small ranch, showing you the old farmhouse he renovated, the barn he built with his own hands, and the stables he gave a new paint and a modern interior.

Relief floods Sukuna's chest when he sees the genuine smile on your pretty face and the joy when you pet his favorite horse. You turn to him, telling him that you love his ranch and praising him for turning an old abandoned farm into this pretty place.

"You are so passionate about the things you want, Sukuna, and you work hard for them. That's an admirable trait. This place is beautiful."

Sukuna smirks proudly at you, feeling this warmth in his chest again. He wraps a strong, tattooed arm around your waist and pulls you against him. And he knows exactly what he wants.

"This place is even more beautiful with you here. You remember what I said about enjoying my freedom out here? I feel free with you by my side, too. It doesn't feel like I am giving anything up when I am with you. It feels like I am gaining something."

There are happy tears shining in your eyes when you look up at him, and you smile and put a small hand on Sukuna's defined chest, right where his heart is beating strong and fast,

"I would love to live here with you, cowboy. I could help you with the crops and make sure you always have something warm to eat when you come home in the evening. I could even help with the horses and the cows, I think. And I can keep you company out here and keep you warm at night."

Sukuna doesn't believe in a God, but he thinks some kind of higher power or fate or whatever must have finally blessed him. Must have finally allowed a fallen angel like him some sort of heaven, too.

Sukuna smiles at you, a gentle, genuine smile that he never gives to anyone else, and he takes his cowboy hat off and puts it carefully onto your head,

"Then welcome to your new home, cowgirl."

SIGHHHHH, this cowboy makes me swoon 😭😭💗💗 I didn't expect this story to become so long, but I just couldn't stop writing. It was one of those moments where Sukuna took things into his hands and made me tell the whole story, and of course I do what my man wants ;)

I hope you enjoyed falling in love with Cowboy!Sukuna, too 💗

Thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

There will be a Part 2 in which we see our life on Sukuna's ranch.

And once again: Thank you Émilie @sweetlandspos for drawing your beautiful and sexy Cowboy!Sukuna, who inspired me to write this AU!! I hope you find joy in this story!!

#sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #sukuna smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk smut #jjk fluff #jjk x y/n

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casscainmainly · 10 months ago

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Why Duke Thomas Should Be A Dick Grayson Hater

Dick and Duke is such an underrated and underexplored relationship. Here is my pitch for why Duke should be a Dick Grayson hater.

1. The Rooftop Thing

Reason number one and the start of Duke's grudge should be the rooftop incident in Robin War. Dick, as part of his plan or whatever, leads Duke to a roof and abandons him to the cops.

LOOK AT DICK'S SMUG FACE. Tell me you wouldn't hold a grudge too if this was the FIRST major interaction you had with him?? Duke should use this against him at any possible opportunity.

2. ACAB

From We Are Robin #2. Once Duke finds out Dick used to be a cop, it's OVER for him.

3. Jason and Damian

Duke is quite close with Jason and Damian (in my head, particularly Damian - that's his LITTLE BROTHER). Anyway, these two are obsessed with Dick. You have Jason, with his miles-long brother issues that puts Dick on a pedestal, and you have Damian, who thinks Dick is the best person on Earth who can do no wrong. They would talk Duke's ears off about him. Duke would HATE IT.

4. Robin

This panel from Night of the Monster Men sums up quite nicely the difference in the way Dick and Duke approach vigilantism. Duke is the 'idealised' Robin, whose Robin-ing isn't contingent on Batman; Dick is more or less too tied up in Bruce. I think, because the Robin identity means a lot to Duke, having the original Robin be like this would irk Duke a LOT.

5. Tom Taylor

SPOILERS FOR CURRENT NIGHTWING RUN: in Nightwing #116, Dick gets framed for murder and Babs tells him to reveal he's Nightwing to clear him of suspicion. She says Bruce suggested it, and recounts everyone who agreed:

Hm. Is someone missing here? Oh yeah: DUKE. TT probably just forgot Duke, but where's the fun in that? Instead, if Duke is a Dick Grayson hater, you have the funniest scene imaginable. Everyone gathered in the Batcave, laying down their identities for Dick, and Duke is like 'I don't give a damn. He can rot in jail.' and peaces out.

BONUS points if he does this to get back at Dick for reason number 1.

6. Parallels

Duke's origin deliberately mirrors Bruce's, but that means it mirrors Dick's as well. Duke and Dick parallels go insane: they both had loving families, lost both parents at once, were in the foster system (varyingly for Dick but for the purposes of this post I'm gonna include it), were wards/not adopted by Bruce initially, have a huge reverence for family, have a thing about heights, view Robin as separate from Batman, forged their own identities, etc.

Tell me this page doesn't slap:

Anyway Duke would HATE this too. He'd be so annoyed that the person he has the most in common with is Dick, and that would fuel his Dick Grayson haterism.

Dick, on the other hand, has no hard feelings towards Duke. Duke would be glowering at him from the corner of the room and Dick would meet his gaze and be like 'ah Duke is so cute' and smile back. This would make Duke 10000x angrier.

Anyway that's my ideal Dick and Duke dynamic, feel free to add or modify or disagree with anything!!

#dick grayson #duke thomas #batman #let duke thomas be a hater 2024 #dick 100% knows that duke low-key hates him and he finds it funny #damian and tim worshipping him and jason having complicated feelings about dick that borders on obsession and cass being jealous #and duke is just. i hate this man #don't get me wrong duke and dick brotherisms >>>>>#it's just more fun where there's a little conflict #i may have made this because i got so upset about those batfamily relationship polls #PUT SOME RESPECT ON DUKE RELATIONSHIPS

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ddixonsangel · 29 days ago

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── .✦ 𐔌 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐁𝐎𝐖𝐒 & 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐒 𐦯

[ 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧 ⊹ 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ]

✧ pairing: daryl dixon x fem!reader

✧ contains: fluff and sweetness without end. daryl being an awkward little bug.

✧ warnings & triggers: nothing really, just daryl being daryl. mention of walkers.

✧ era: early seasons!daryl — more specifically season 1, back at the atlanta camp, though some headcanons could be also for the farm & prision arc. (i love with all my heart how this man is at the beginning of the show, he's such a little baby boy).

✧ word count: 0.6k words.

a/n: hey there! it has been a long time, hasn't it? school keeps me busy and stressed, that's why i haven't been able to write anything 😭 i'm sorry if there's any grammatical or spelling error, i wrote this in a rush, but i hope you like it. 🫶🏻

ᡣ𐭩 : early seasons!daryl having a crush on you !

⊹ early seasons!daryl who thinks you're the prettiest girl in camp, even if he'd rather walk into a pit full of walkers than admitting it out loud. he's clearly not good with words, much less with people, but he can't deny that every time he sees you, it makes him feel something flutter in his chest, or rather in his stomach. whatever thing it is, though, it sure bothers him a lot.

⊹ early seasons!daryl who doesn't realize it is actually a crush, —or doesn't want to—, so he decides not to make a big deal out of it and leaves it like some kind of silly atraction towards you. (not like he knows his feelings and emotions anyways).

⊹ early seasons!daryl who finds himself glancing at your form more and more often than he'd thought, and every time he realizes what he's doing, quickly averts his gaze with a frown forming and a blush creeping onto his face. he just hopes that nobody —specially you or merle— has caught him staring.

⊹ early seasons!daryl who's always keeping an eye on you when you go into the woods, whether it is for taking a walk, or for picking up some little flowers. he wants to make sure you're safe and that there are no threats around you.

⊹ early seasons!daryl who absolutely melts into a puddle every time you thank him in that sweet voice of yours for the squirrels he brought to keep everybody fed. his heart starts pumping in his chest so hard that he fears he might be having a heart attack, but none of that happens, instead he just grumbles something inaudible in a gruff tone and walks off to where he's settled with merle, leaving a confused you with a cute pout on your lips.

⊹ early seasons!daryl who's constantly teased by merle about how he's finally got a pretty sweetheart like you, which usually ends up with daryl barking insults and cursers at his brother as he fiercely denies whatever he's thinking.

⊹ early seasons!daryl who's always avoiding you like the plague. he doesn't think he'll be capable of talking to you without being harsh or rude by instinct —or without blushing like a damn teenager—, so he does what it seems to be the most rational thing in these cases—run off when you're close.

⊹ early seasons!daryl who gets grumpier around you. his crush makes him self-conscious, and it comes out as irritation. he might snap or grumble more than usual—not because he's angry, but because he’s frustrated with himself for feeling something he doesn’t know how to handle.

⊹ early seasons!daryl who panics inside when you accidentally brush against him. he's not really fond of physical touch, so when for whatever reason you touch him, he's an absolute mess. he pretends to be unaffected, or even annoyed by it, but internally, it's chaos.

⊹ early seasons!daryl whose brain stops working every time you're really kind to him. a compliment about how good he's with his crossbow? a gentle look for something he did? a worried gaze when you offer him more food? it floors him. he might scoff or roll his eyes, but hours later he’ll be replaying it in his head like it was the only thing that happened that day.

⊹ early seasons!daryl who realizes —more like accepts— that he's actually in love with you after a very long time. but gets scared easily about it because he doesn't want to mess things up with his stupid feelings. deep down, daryl doesn’t think he’s good enough for someone like you, so he holds back, convinced that getting too close will ruin whatever fragile bond you have. he’d rather suffer in silence than risk rejection.

⊹ early seasons!daryl who does nothing about his crush and just settles for the friendship you have—if he can call it that, since you never really have the chance to talk to him properly because he always gets himself lost when he spots you walking towards him.

a/n: i have it bad for this man (who doesn't?)

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devotedsweetheart · 3 months ago

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・❥ CALEBS FAVORITE KINKS !!!

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|• 0:10

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ rundown :: a list of what i think are calebs top 5 kinks !

WARNINGS :: NSFW! 18+, incest , oral sex , bondage , collaring , orgasm denial , porn w/ no plot

a/n :: these are not in order !! :)

1. INCEST :: now, this might seem a little bit overboard , but to caleb ? it's nothing new . after knowing you for so long ... growing up together , living in the same house , sharing everything with each other .. it's like a normal thing to him. so normal to the point where he'll call you his 'sissy' during different times of day . " sissy , could you grab my water from the table for me ? thank you, love . " it just rolls of the tongue !! especially during your alone time, too . it slips out more than you or him could count . when he first moaned it he never even payed attention to it , thinking of it as nothing . it was only when you gave him a look that he couldn't quite read did he notice what he accidentally said . "o-oh my god pips im.. im so sorry. that was fucking weird and i shouldnt have said it... im a damn pervert." shame flooded his face ... but he knew it would happen again , whether he could control it or not .

2. BONDAGE :: listen , he doesnt want to be tied up because hes horny , it's because he trusts you so much ... and that kind of turns him on . the fact he can willingly submit to you and trust you without having to worry about what you're doing . although he likes to be restrained , he'd never do it to you .. only if you asked him . he'd do anything you asked for (within reason) , whether thats strapping you to the bed with ropes , chains , a belt (his) , cuffs .. whatever you please . all he's worried about is them scuffing up those pretty wrists of yours . "nono wait baby .. your skin, it's red . do you need me to stop ? i'll stop right now for you , you look like you're in pain . let me kiss it better pips .." is what he'd say on any other occasion .. but the times when you didnt look so in pain , thats when his freak comes out . "you cant run away silly .. stop trying to run from me . i wont allow it , and neither will those restraints you begged me to use on you . i actually quite like the way you look right now... all tied up and cute for me ."

3. COLLARING :: i feel like this is the most canon you could ever get . he'd seriously be into making you wear a collar for him , wanting everyone to know who you belong to & to not try with his girl ! also , he'd want one with a bell .. just so you couldnt escape without being noisy ;) . buuuut he's up for wearing one for you as well , he also wants to let people know who he belongs to . i think he'd get one for the both of you regardless of you wanting one or not , his need to get people off of you is too strong, as he is alarmingly obsessed with you . the collar isn't just used as man repellent , it turns him on so fucking much . knowing that you're practically his property gets his dick hard to the point of ache , he'd definitely make you wear it during sex . mumbling incoherent sentences about how much he loves the way it looks on your gorgeous neck .. how he never wants you to take it off . "as long as you're here, with me, you aren't touching it . fuck , you're so good for me .."

4. ORGASM DENIAL :: hear me out . it's late at night and he notices your location isnt on ... he texts and calls you multiple times without an answer . eventually , he tracks you down and confronts you about going out without his knowledge / consent . after he's done scolding you , that night , he'd drag you into his car as soon as he could & not let you cum . he would adore hearing you beg for him , solely because it feeds into his desire for you to need him as much as he does you . he wouldnt be too fond if you ended up doing it to him ... maybe as revenge or something , but nonetheless , he would be in pieces . pleading , begging , writhing , all of the above just to feel your perfect cunt squeeze around him one more time so he can cum . he would never put his hands on you , but he would just get so desperate ... he might have to move you himself !! at that point , all he would manage were whimpers and prayers . "ohmygod pips please .. im sorry! okay! im sorry .. i can't take this anymore baby , i need to cum . i need it so fucking bad ."

5. FACE SITTING :: caleb takes "the best way to die is by thigh" way too seriously . he would happily pass away while in between your thighs ... he loves eating you out so much it's kind of concerning . the moment his lips are on your core hes not letting up until you've cum over and over again on his face .. hes addicted to the taste of you . his deep obsession with your juices is so bad that he has to have you suffocating him , almost breaking his nose , using his face as a toy ... he can't get enough . i think this roots from the fact that he jerks off to your voice all the time & that makes him so attached to all your moans . especially when you call out his name while you cum .. he thinks about those moments way too often .

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ in conclusion :: caleb would really do whatever you asked , aka hes into anything , but these are the ones he really enjoys . <3

#caleb lads smut #lnds caleb #lads caleb #love and deepspace caleb #caleb x mc #caleb x you #caleb x reader #caleb smut #caleb #love and deepspace #lads caleb x reader #lads boys #lads smut #lads x reader #lads mc #lnds #lnds x reader #lnds smut

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crystaldivination · 4 months ago

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Ｉｎｆａｍｏｕｓ

𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒊𝒏𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓?

Oh, you thought I wouldn't notice? You thought you could walk around with THAT energy and I wouldn't call you out? Please. You have reputation written all over you. Everyone knows what you're about —whether they like it or not. And baby, that's power.

So go ahead, pick your poison. Six piles, six different flavors of iconic infamy. But don't get it twisted —you are a problem. A beautiful, thrilling, addictive problem. One thing is for sure, I wouldn't have you any other way.

Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3

Pile 4 Pile 5 Pile 6

𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒑 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 ☥ 🔪

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟏: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐍𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬

Oh, sweetheart. You are the temptation people warn themselves about. You don’t just turn heads; you twist minds, unravel logic, and make people question their own sanity. You have a way of making people obsessed, and the worst part? You don’t even have to try.

You’ve got that dangerous charm —the type that leaves people ruined but coming back for more. You’re the reason for late-night texts, blocked numbers, and "I know I shouldn’t, but…" decisions.

Your energy is magnetic —irresistible, chaotic, and so dangerously intoxicating that people know they should stay away but can’t help themselves. You are in famous for the way you make people lose all sense of self-control. You play with fire like you were born in it. Love you? Hate you? It doesn’t matter —because in the end, you will be remembered.

You don’t just walk into a room; you make it tilt. The way you talk, the way you move —it’s addictive. People try to play it cool, but the second you lock eyes with them? Game over.

𝐼𝑛𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟:

Being everybody’s favorite mistake (and you know it).

Master manipulator (but in a fun way, right?)

Leaving people wanting more, even when they swore they were done with you.

You make people ruin their own lives over you —then leave them smiling about it.

You don’t do attachments, but damn, people get attached to YOU.

People love to call you toxic, but let’s be real —they eat it up and keep coming back. You’re not for the weak-hearted, and that’s what makes you legendary.

Your presence is a storm, unpredictable and impossible to ignore. Your words are poison-laced honey —sweet, addictive, and deadly in high doses. And the truth? You don’t chase. You ARE the chase.

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐓: 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐂𝐄, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮.

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏: 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐠 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞, 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫.

➽────────────────────────────❥

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟐: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐜𝐞-𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

Oh, poor them. They really thought they had a chance, huh? Aww. Your existence alone is a crash course in emotional survival. People get caught up in your presence, mistaking your indifference for a challenge. They think they can break through your walls, get you to care. Oh, how adorable.

You're infamous for your ability to turn hearts into shattered glass and walk away unbothered. It's not your fault they fell too deep —you never promised them forever.

You are self-sufficient, untouchable, and unapologetically detached. Love? Cute concept. But people get too comfortable. And you? You like your space. You'll be the best thing they've ever had, and then? You'll ghost.

The reality? You don't do messy emotions. Love is cute and all, but you have bigger things to focus on. Relationships? Fun while they last, but attachment? Not really your thing. You give just enough to keep them hooked, and then? You disappear. Not because you're cruel (okay, maybe just a little), but because you refuse to be tied down… or just because you get bored.

𝐼𝑛𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟:

Breaking hearts without breaking a sweat.

Your ability to make people fall for you... and then leave them on read.

Being emotionally unavailable, yet somehow, everyone's favorite person.

Leaving people staring at their ceiling at 3 AM, replaying every conversation.

You don't chase, you don't beg, you don't explain.

Your existence alone is a heartbreak anthem.

People romanticize you, write about you, cry about you. And what do you do? Keep it moving. Because darling, you're unreachable, untouchable, and undeniably unforgettable.

You're a legend in the game. Stay frosty, baby.

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐓: 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐂𝐄, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮.

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐: 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐭. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝, 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞, 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥-𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫.

➽────────────────────────────❥

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟑: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐥 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐏𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞

Rules? Boundaries? Never heard of them. You've been disrupting the system since birth, and honestly? You make rebellion look good. You have zero patience for limitations, and you don't take orders from anyone. The world tries to put you in a box, but you were born to break out.

You're the type to do exactly what people tell you not to do —just to prove a point. You don't take orders, you don't follow trends, and you sure as hell don't apologize.

You're infamous for your boldness, your defiance, and your ability to make people question EVERYTHING. Some people admire you. Others resent you because they wish they had the guts to do what you do. Either way? You keep them talking.

You've got main character energy, and everyone else is just trying to keep up. Society tells you to sit down, be quiet? You get louder. They say "that's impossible"? You do it twice and take pictures.

𝐼𝑛𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟:

Not giving a single damn about what anyone thinks.

Being ungovernable, uncontrollable, unstoppable.

Saying "I'll show you" instead of "I'm sorry."

You don't fit in. You stand out —and you LOVE It.

You challenge authority like it's a sport (and you always win).

You make people rethink everything they thought they knew.

You’re The Untamed Rebel Who Laughs in the Face of Authority. You are a revolution, a movement, a statement. They can try to keep up, but baby—they'll NEVER catch you. People either want to be you or be with you. Either way, they're obsessed.

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐓: 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐂𝐄, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮.

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑: 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲'𝐬 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥.

➽────────────────────────────❥

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟒: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐑𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐰

Some people are born peasants, and then there's you. You don't compete; you dominate. You're a strategist, a mastermind, the one pulling the strings while everyone else dances. You don't just win —you make it look effortless.

People like to think they're on your level, but they're not even in the same universe. You don't just walk into a room —you OWN it. Your presence demands respect, and if someone doesn't give it? You take it.

You are infamous for being ten steps ahead of everyone else. You see through people like glass, and you know exactly how to get what you want without ever breaking a sweat. Others try to control the game, but you wrote the rulebook.

Your presence alone is intimidating. You walk in, and suddenly, everyone's aware of their own inadequacies. Because you exude power. It's in your eyes, your posture, the way you say just enough to make people hang onto every word.

𝐼𝑛𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟:

Always getting what you want, one way or another.

Commanding respect without even asking.

Never letting anyone get the upper hand —ever.

You don't ask for power —you assume it.

You intimidate people just by existing.

Your confidence? Unshakable. Your presence? Unforgettable. Your success? Unstoppable. If people are afraid of you, good. They should be.

You're not playing the game, baby. You own it.

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐓: 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐂𝐄, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮.

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟒: 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐧 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞.

➽────────────────────────────❥

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟓: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐦 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞

Now you see them, now you don't. You are a myth, a legend, a ghost story whispered at afterparties. A mystery, a puzzle no one can solve. You float in and out of people's lives, leaving them wondering if they ever really knew you at all. People remember you —but never in full detail. You come and go as you please, leaving just enough of an impression to haunt people's minds forever.

Your energy? Rare. Untouchable. You don't do small talk. You don't entertain nonsense.

You're infamous for your elusiveness, for the way you never fully let anyone in. People become obsessed with figuring you out, but they never do. Your energy is like a secret no one can quite grasp —and that's what makes you legendary.

You exist in a different realm, one that only the chosen few are granted access to. You don't seek attention, but somehow, it always finds you.

𝐼𝑛𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟:

Being the one they never quite figure out.

Appearing, wrecking the vibe (in a good way), and disappearing.

Making people question if they ever really knew you.

Nobody truly knows you, and that drives them CRAZY.

You're always there —but never really there.

People chase you, but you always stay out of reach.

You are a legend, a whisper, a fleeting dream. And just when they think they have you figured out? You're gone.

Mysterious. Elusive. Unforgettable. That's you.

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐓: 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐂𝐄, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮.

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟓: 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐦, 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐚𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡. 𝐍𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐏𝐢𝐧 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐦𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭.

➽────────────────────────────❥

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟔: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐥𝐢𝐧 𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐂𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐁𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝

Oh, you? **You're a walking scandal. A chaotic masterpiece of impulse and pure vibes. People can't predict your next move— hell, YOU don't even know what it'll be. You thrive on mayhem, and let's be real —it suits you.

Some say you're reckless. Some say you're dangerous. But let's be honest: life would be BORING without you. The world too. You bring the fun, the thrill, the unexpected twist. If something's going down, you're either behind it or in the middle of it.

You're infamous for your wild unpredictability. You keep things exciting. You shake things up. You make people feel ALIVE —even if it's a little dangerous. And the best part? You wouldn't change a damn thing.

You ARE the drama. You live life on the edge, making questionable decisions and dragging others into the madness with you. People call you a daredevil— but baby, you call it LIVING.

𝐼𝑛𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟:

Living life on "f* it" mode 24/7.**

Being the reason "we are NEVER doing that again" stories exist.

Making even the most responsible people question their choices.

People never know what you're going to do next.

You say "yes" to chaos like it's a job requirement.

You turn even the most serious people into accomplices.

The world is your playground, and you're here to cause trouble. And honestly? I respect that. You are unfiltered energy, pure adrenaline in human form. And we LOVE you for it.

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐓: 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐂𝐄, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮.

𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟔: 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐥𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐛𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 (𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠).

➽────────────────────────────❥

So tell me... which brand of infamous are you? Because trust me, you're not fooling anybody —you've got LEGEND written all over you.

YOURS SINCERELY,

CRYSTAL.

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burytheruby · 7 months ago

Text

I N A P P R O P R I A T E

𐬺𐬽𐬾❤︎︎𐬾𐬽𐬺

IN which Captain Price is your father, and your eyes are set on his lieutenant.

OR: you're down bad for Ghost, and your father isn't too keen on that.

you’re in Part 1; Part 2

MINORS Do NOT Interact.

Warnings: age gap, fem! reader, ooc, canon divergent tbh, little to no british slang bc i barely know american LOL. written from my phone please bear with me. also, do not get groomed, this is just fiction. WC: 1501

English is my second language, very self indulgent.

"m'gonna marry him, daddy!" Captain Price used to laugh about that, when your eight-year-old self would cling onto his arm while pointing at the twenty-one-year-old man who had just been recruited. it used to be an inside joke between the unit task, your father was oh so confident that you'd get over your childhood crush.

oh boy was he wrong.

every time without fail, when the squad would gather at your home during their leave, you'd take peeks to the living room, kitchen, or wherever they settled to talk. this ritual continued well into your pre-teenage years, right before you turned moody and too shy to even come out of your room. that's when Price thought it was over, what he didn't expect however was how you'd be so damn adamant on having Simon come over almost daily as soon as you turned eighteen. he was a seasoned captain, he wasn't oblivious to the way you'd eye his lieutenant, how you'd give him the coldest beer when it used to be reserved for him, the way you'd come every now and then and sit right across from The Ghost to "join in the conversation and catch up." nothing escaped his sharp eye, not even the way Ghost would sometimes stare your way for a little too long.

"he's emotionally unavailable, princess." he'd tell you, dropping you off for orientation day at your dream university. "he's a good lad, but he's got his own demons to fight." and he'd sigh as you slammed the car door on him. he could never deny your wishes, though, as he created a woman who was too determined—too set on her track who did not know the word defeat. but you were also just a kid—or at least that's the mental image of you in his head, a little girl with innocent thoughts who simply found his comrade to be cute.

"yer young and beautiful, m'sure those college boys are dying for ye." your father would tell you, almost begging for you to enjoy these years and experiment.

"but i don't want a boy." you would roll your eyes, having started your second year of university certainly made you into a character. you were confident—rightfully so, your beauty outshined anyone else. "i want Simon." you'd repeat like a broken record, and if it didn't make him want to strangle his lieutenant. how has time truly passed, he remembered when you'd call Simon by the name of Ghost, the name everyone used instead of his given name. but you weren't a part of the task force, there wasn't really a reason for you to call him Ghost for reason other than his signature balaclava and stitched-in mask.

you soon turned twenty, you were not a little girl anymore. his team had joined later in the evening to celebrate you, bringing you gifts and sneaked in alcohol for later when your friends would leave. it wasn't until Simon's arrival that you suddenly disappeared, but Price isn't a fool. he clutched the now empty can of beer, stopping immediately as he felt Gaz's reassuring touch on his shoulder. you were not a little girl anymore, you were a woman. he repeated in his head, no longer glancing over at the backyard door as he focused on the conversation between his comrades.

𐬺𐬽𐬾❤︎︎𐬾𐬽𐬺

"thank you, Simon." you smiled as he helped you put the piece of jewelry around your neck. a beautiful necklace of the metal of your liking—the one you always used when you dressed up so pretty, so dolled up. he looked at your face, his mouth in a straight line yet his eyes full of unspoken softness for you. he hummed in response, his gaze falling back down to your neck, where the necklace laid so neatly right under your collarbone, before it touched your cleavage. Simon tore his gaze away, he refused to look at you that way—not to his captain's daughter.

your smile faded as you noticed his lack of eye contact, your hand grazing his calloused one with gentleness. his eyes landed on yours once more, one hand moving the stray hair out of your face as he admired you, how you had grown to be a gorgeous woman. "we can't, love, m'way too old for ye." is what he said to you—to himself, to stop the pounding of his heart and the ache of having you so close to him. you shook your head in rebuttal, the frown of your brows making you more enticing to the man who towered over you with ease. you were determined, and he liked that about you—among the many other things that piqued his interest.

"don't care, Simon, i said i'd marry you." too determined, maybe. he scoffed at your words yet couldn't help it as the ghost of a smile appeared on his usually stoic face. "and i don't care about what old man has to say about it, i'm an adult for christ's sake." you held onto his hand, the one that laid so gently on the curve of your neck, feeling your pulse on his rough fingers. your eyes roamed from his eyes to his cheekbones, the scars on his face that added to his charm, and his slightly chapped lips that seemed to beg to close the gap between you. Simon noticed your lingering eyes, and he cursed under his breath as his fingers squeezed your neck softly.

"eyes up 'ere, love." his voice took you out of trance, eyes quickly darting back up to his as you felt your cheeks burn in embarrassment at being caught. you smiled in response, your own eyes getting lost on his gaze. a deep shade of chestnut, one that conveyed a turmoil of emotions. surely, he couldn't just court his captain's daughter, it's just wrong. no matter what her sweet eyes silently pleaded for, he couldn't just give in—hell, temptation is too strong. rough digits let go of your neck, reaching down to your waist so tenderly that anyone who looked your way would know.

you couldn't help it, not when he always tried to make you happy, to give you everything you deserved, for treating you the way he just did. with a pull of his jacket, your lips clashed passionately, desperately, as if you were to disappear, like a prayer that had been heard, you clung to him with your arms around his shoulders as he held you impossibly close. you sighed between the kiss, pulling at his bottom lip playfully before you returned to the steamy friction of your lips. a want, one Simon hadn't realized how much he needed, how much he craved. you were a woman, one so, so perfect. "so gorgeous," he hummed lowly against you, letting go of reddened, puffy lips. his words sent a shiver down your spine, relishing on his words, the ones that were only for you, always you.

Simon has never been rough with you– he couldn't even imagine being so, not when you're holding onto him like a lifeline, like he's everything you've ever wanted. he doesn't complain when you bring him up to your face again, breaths mixing in the silence of the yard, so silent you have both forgotten of the people inside your home. "Simon," you gasp in a plead, a withheld plea as the backdoor opened. he pulled away from you in an instant, his hand still on your waist protectively.

"everything alright?" Price asked, and you could hear Simon curse under his breath. you just knew your father did it on purpose, he had that mischievous look on his face you had inherited, one you both used when you planned something. his eyes bore on the point of contact between you and his lieutenant, and Simon found himself forced to let go of you with a grumble. Price's eyes fell on the pendant hanging off your neck, letting out a sigh as he closed the door behind him and walked up to you.

"gorgeous pendant, hun." his eyes found their way to his lieutenant on your side, a look on his face that was no longer a warning– but rather a petition (demand, more like) to keep his treasure safe. do not break her heart. you could almost hear his thoughts, shifting under his gaze as you observed the interaction. Simon gave a curt nod, a wordless promise of affection and protection. "you should hurry, s'getting cold." Price said after a moment, giving you a smile before walking back inside.

Simon found your smile endearing, the way it reached your eyes and made your face bright. his hand returned to your side, giving a playful squeeze before making its way to the small of your back once more. "let's go inside, yeah?" he murmured against your ear, and you couldn't help but think of how neatly wrapped you had him around your finger, always getting what you want.

an unforgettable birthday.

𐬺𐬽𐬾❤︎︎𐬾𐬽𐬺

made an entire account just to write this. i will be doing more, trust.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #simon riley x you #cod x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley #burytheimagine

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