#he was mean because he thought he was weak for whatever reason and he felt like he had to make himself stronger

[starrysymphonies]

IM NEVER GONNA STOP THINKING ABOUT ZICAH AUAGHHGHJHGH IM ON MY REREAD OF BOOK TWO AND LIKE, ITS VERY OBVIOUS THEYRE WARMING UP TO EACHOTHER

Their entire conversation from pages 156-157 BUT THISBIS MY FAVORITE EXERPT FROM IT

“Zed was out of his depth. He was cold, and lonely, and very afraid.

‘Please’ he rasped. ‘Please just leave me alone.’

Micah’s smirk faltered. He opened his mouth, then closed it and cleared his throat. ‘Listen, you’re going to be all right. I’ve seen that moldy fireball of yours take out worse than a few mummified elves. And that was without Frond babysitting you.’”

Foster WAS right, Micah DOES stop Zed from getting too angsty

And later on page 263 Zed defends him

“‘I’ll say,’ said Jett. ‘When the gods were handing out brains and Micah went for his share, they told him, ‘Sorry that girl who was just here took the last of them.’

They all chuckled at that, except for Zed, who said ‘Aw, he means well.’”

LIKE AUGHHGH

It’s so obvious to me that book 1 was like, Micah subconsciously crushing on Zed and consciously he was like “ok I’m gonna ignore that and push him and those feelings away because thinking about him all the time is ODD” and then in book 2 he’s trying to look out for him in his own Micah-way and actually warming up to him

[imwritingthefout]

after session hangout

basically you fall in love with the dm of your campaign in college: Ford pines, smut ensues

This is crossposted to ao3 so if you wanna go read it there, here’s the link:

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Waking up each day to the same old ceiling was starting to bore you. 

Ever since moving out of your parents house for college you felt like a stranger in the dorm you now called ‘home’, and It didn't help that you refused to decorate it. 

Getting out of your plain old bed, you stand up and push away the blinds with a tug, the light from the early morning sun blinding you temporarily. You glance down at your clock; 6:30am, thursday. The time isn't the part that excites you though, it's the day. Today is the day you look forward to all week: Dd&md day! 

You go to get ready for your morning class, excited for what the future of today may hold. You love dd&md, its been your favourite game since you were a child -even though you had no one to play it with back then, you got creative (no goat was harmed in your past attempts at playing the game).

Your classes went by in a blur. Of course you were taking notes and whatnot, it was important to pay attention! But in secret, you were drawing your character all over the side of your notebook and thinking of strategies on how to defeat the next dungeon your dm set up for you.

And then there was your dm. 

One of the many reasons you adored thursdays was because you got to play dd&md of course, but other than that there was another big reason you liked thursdays.

To put it plainly: your dm, Stanford Pines was Hot. like, capital H Hot. you couldn't get over his warm brown eyes that sparkled with passion whenever he detailed the characters he was playing. His hands that moved with his every word, adding to the description of the imaginary world he was building. God you wanted to feel those hands on you. What would they feel like, intertwined with your own, on your hips while he-

You decided to stop that train of thought. As much as you liked him, you also respected him enough to know that he would probably never feel that way towards you, and you shouldn't fantasise about him like that (even though it was hard not to).

And though he was Hot, that wasn't the only reason you liked him. You liked him because he was smart, compassionate, funny and so very cute.

What can you say? You had a thing for nerds.

As your last class of the day finished finished up, you quickly packed up your things and rushed to the old building next to the dorms that housed your favourite room in the whole campus: the old meeting room you guys used to house your dd&md sessions! 

The room wasn't glorious, it was just an old meeting room that's been out of use for years. But to you, that room was the home of your imagination. It held a special place in your heart, and you were sure it was the same for the rest of your party.

Speaking of which, you saw Fiddleford approach you down the old hallway, little puffs of dust kicking up with each of his steps. “Hey Fidds! You ready for today’s session?” you yelled to him slightly as he approached. “Ready as I'll ever be! You won't believe what I have planned in order to kick that sorcerer's butt!” he gave your shoulder a weak punch and opened the door with his key.

Usually, the old building was out of commission. But since Fiddleford knew a guy who works as campus security and convinced him to give him the key, you had full access to the building to do whatever you pleased. Of course for you, anything just means playing dd&md, not causing a mess and cleaning up after yourselves as much as possible in order to not inconvenience anyone. You knew that other people your age would throw huge parties and wreck the place, but you weren't that kind of person, really. You just liked having a quiet place to play your games and hang out with your friends. Fiddleford was like that too, that's how he got the key in the first place; because his friend trusted him not to mess up the place.

As you walked inside, you saw the table set out just how you guys left it last week: the long rectangular table set up in the middle of the room, with seven chairs set out all around the table, one for each player and one for your dm. A whiteboard behind the dm’s seat that shows the map of the fantasy world you are currently in the middle of exploring, and cork board on another wall with a bunch of graph paper pinned to it.

You walk around the table, taking your regular seat across from Fiddleford. “So what do you think Ford's planning for this session?” you ask Fidds. This is your usual routine: get to the building early, wait for Fidds and ask him if he has any intel for the session since his roommate is Ford. “like usual, i can’t tell you, it'll ruin the fun!” Fidds exclaimed, although the grin on his face told you he likes this familiar back and forth. 

You eased into a casual conversation from there, talking about your days as you waited for everyone else. You liked coming early because then you had more time to talk with Fidds and, of course, with Ford.

You met Fidds on the first day of the semester, when you sat next to each other in the freshman orientation presentation, and hit it off from there. you became friends rather quickly, bonding over the fact that you were both far away from home with no friends in town. You decided to help him move into his dorm after the presentation, and that's when you met Ford.

At first, you were a bit speechless at the guy in front of you. His outfit was the usual scholar's outfit of a white button up shirt with a brown vest on top, but then he was wearing jeans in order to look more ‘casual’ as he put it. His hair was neat and tidy and his glasses framed his face perfectly, at least in your opinion. You introduced yourself awkwardly, and once he introduced himself as Stanford Pines, a parapsychology major with aspirations for 12 phd’s in the next five years, you knew you were in over your head. You can't have a crush on a super-genius! What if he turns out to be an arrogant asshole? But you couldn't help developing feelings for him as you got closer. He wasn't just a super-genius, he was also kind and compassionate, understanding and just a good friend. That's when you decided to just stay friends with Ford, you couldn't afford to lose such a good friend.

Speaking of which, the man himself comes into the room, holding a stack of books detailing the rules and monsters of dd&md, a satin sack full of dice and his dm screen. You can barely see his face behind all of the things he's carrying, and immediately you jump up to help him carry everything. He silently thanks you for the help and starts setting his stuff up while you go back to your seat. “Hey guys, how've you been since last week?” Ford asks you two. “Oh i've been well, you know. Dealing with you every day can be challenging but I manage somehow” Fidds says dramatically and you stifle a giggle. Ford gives Fidds a death glare before turning to you “and how are you?” he asks with a smile that makes your knees weak. “I'm good!” you proclaim a little too loudly and cough to hide your blush “yes i'm good, just the usual classes and such” you say in a normal voice (or at least what you hope is a normal voice, it doesn't help that Fidds looks at you cheekily, already knowing your secret crush on his roomate) “how have you been?” you ask him. 

“Just the usual: doing homework, studying and building up today’s session” you catch on to the last part as a potential way to continue the conversation. “Well, what do you have planned for today?”. “Oh come on now, it wouldn't be fun to just spoil the game for you, would it?” he says and points to you to emphasise his point. “You can't even give us an outline? Something?” you pout a little and Ford gives in “fine… I may have something up my sleeve for today, and I can guarantee you won't see it coming this time! That's all I'm going to say for now though” he jabs his finger at you, trying to seem angry that you caught onto his plans last time, but his little smile gives him away. 

Soon your other party members start filing in and you all start the session. 

It goes as usual, you all mess around for a bit before getting serious. You can confidently say you saw the twist Ford put in this session coming, it was obvious how the wizard was actually a party member’s son, they had so many similarities! After another successful session, everyone leaves for their respective houses, leaving you, Fidds and Ford alone in the room to clean up.

“I can't believe you saw that coming again! I swear you're like a sorcerer in real life” Ford chuckles and Fidds adds “that would also explain how you get here before me every time! I swear I ran to get here today and you still beat me here!” “well what can i say guys? I'm just magical in every way!” you strike a silly but confident pose as Ford and Fidds laugh at your antics. “Oh shoot! I promised my friend i’d go on a blind date today, could you guys lock up this time? Ford you can just give me the keys tomorrow morning if i get lucky” Fidds winks and Ford rolls his eyes “alright, we get it, you can go”. Fidds leaves the keys on the desk and almost sprints out of the room.

You and Ford clean up the mess on the desk in silence before Ford decides to break it “how do you keep predicting my twists anyways? I swear it was supposed to come out of nowhere but you're too smart” you blush a little at the compliment “thank you, i guess i’m just good at guessing twists. But you do make it kind of easy. I mean, a secret relative of someone close? It’s kind of a cliche don't you think?” he pulls at the collar of his button up shirt and you can immediately tell something is wrong.

“Yeah.. I guess it is kind of cliche, but it's what fits the character, don't you think?” he says with a guilty tone. “Ford, what's wrong? I feel like you're hiding something” you get close enough to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder “you can tell me anything, i wont judge” you add, trying to coax him into telling you what's wrong.

“Well… I guess I brought the secret relative from my own life because… well… I have a twin brother….” the sentence doesn’t completely shock you, but it is still somewhat of a surprise “why do you never mention him? Did something happen between you two?” he chuckles a bit before saying “still as perceptive as ever, huh?” you blush a bit as he continues, looking out into the middle distance in thought

“Me and my brother were really close when we were young, we would do everything together. But as time went on, we grew apart. He didn't like the fact that I wanted to go away to a fancy college, especially because he knew he couldn't follow me there. I was working on a machine to impress the college, but on the day of the showing it stopped working. My own brother sabotaged my future. We had a big falling out over it and that’s why I'm here instead….” you empathised with Ford, but you couldn't help but question some things about his story.

“I know it must have been hard to deal with the fact you lost your ticket to the college of your dreams, but do you really believe your brother would sabotage you? If he loves you, wouldn't he want to support you? Maybe it was an accident and he didn't mean to destroy your project?” Ford looks lost in thought again before replying “i… it's foolish but i never thought of it that way…” he looks at you with thankfulness in his eyes and you can't help but smile up at him “you should maybe sort this out with him? Talk to him about what actually happened and if he meant to hurt you?” 

“God you're right… Thank you! This changes everything! I'm so glad I could just kiss you!” 

….

It takes him a second to realise what he said and blush at the thought of actually kissing you. You just stare at him dumbly for a second until your brain processes what he said.

He wants to kiss you?

Well this took a turn for the better.

“Do you really mean that?” you ask him with hope in your eyes

“Well… yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t i? Look at you” he finds that it's suddenly very important you understand how much he wants to kiss you. “Wow… i- i didn't know you felt the same…” you say softly and look down. He says your name and puts his hand on your cheek and lifts up your face to meet his eyes “i like you. More than as a friend. Would you… let me kiss you?” he looks at you nervously for a moment before you close the gap between you two and kiss him yourself.

The kiss feels electrifying. As your soft lips meet his you put your arms around his neck to pull him closer. You realise he smells exactly how you thought he would; of old books and aftershave. His hands find your waist and rub gentle circles with his thumbs into your skin. You pull away after a little and touch your forehead with his “you have no idea how long i've wanted to do that” you whisper gently.

“Me too” and he goes back to kissing you, this time he takes the lead. You tighten yourself around him until your chests meet, his hands move down to your hips and he pulls you onto his lap in one swoop. You gently bite his lip as he groans into your open lips. He then moves down to kiss from your jaw to your neck, leaving the occasional love bite. You sigh at his bites until he gets to your collarbones. “Do you…. Want to do this?” he breathes the question against your skin, the feeling of him against you makes you shudder. “Yes. im sure”. He straightens up from excitement and goes back to kissing you collarbone, now more eager than ever as his hands travel past the hem of your shirt and up to your bra. Meanwhile your hands go down to feel him underneath you.

“Someone is excited” you smirk as he breaths heavily against you. 

“Very” his response falls heavy against you as he unclasps your bra (with only a little bit of a struggle) and his hands move to massage your breasts. You moan as he pinches your nipples in between his fingers. You lower your head to bite at his shoulder to stifle another moan from falling out of your lips- “No” he says and moves his shoulder to get you to stop muffling your sounds. “I want to hear you”. The thought of him wanting to hear you like this makes you blush and sends a bolt of pleasure down your spine. “Y-yes’’ 

You intend to start massaging him through his pants but he beats you to it, moving his hand down into your pants. You help him take off your pants and underwear (with a lot of struggle because of your position) and he suddenly picks you up and places you on the table. The cold desk underneath you only adds to the pleasure as he caresses your side before moving his hand down to finally touch you. 

His hand caresses your folds and feels how wet you are, and you moan from the feeling of his thick fingers on your sensitive skin. “Damn, you feel so good” he whimpers at how you feel before kissing your breasts and plunging his index finger inside you. “A-ah~” you sigh as he moves his hand so his thumb is circling your clit. 

He continues pumping his finger inside of you for a second before adding a second one and speeding up the pace. If he continues like this you wont last long. Almost as if he can hear your thoughts, he stops and goes down onto his knees, his face in front of your core. “Can I please taste you?” he asks innocently, as if his request isn't the most dirty thing you've heard him say. Thinking about it makes you even more aroused -if that's even possible at this point- and you hastily agree.

Not even a second after he sees you nod does he jump into your pussy, his tongue plunging into you and licking you from the inside. His nose bumps into your clit as he moves to taste and lick you even more. Your breath hitches and you moan loudly as he begins sucking at your clit, toying and teasing it with his tongue. “Please F-Ford” you manage to say in between moans. He groans against you and the vibrations send a wave of pleasure through you.

He suddenly brings his fingers back into you, curling them just right, hitting that spongy spot inside you that sends you over the edge. 

You briefly hear him let out a broken “Fu-uck” as your orgasm ripples through you in waves. Ford helps you ride out your high as he continues fingering you and licking at your clit. You have to push him off of you as it becomes too overstimulating

You try to pull him up to his knees, but he seems embarrassed by something. He looks up at you with his chin and nose glistening from your wetness, a guilty smile on his lips and his glasses fogged up and crooked. You then look down and notice it. A wet spot against his jeans

oh.

He got off on pleasuring you. He turned into a mess from just tasting you, feeling you on his lips and fingers. “That's the hottest thing i've ever seen” you say suddenly and lean down to kiss him passionately. He pulls away “really? You think so?” he looks at you in shock. “Yes! Now let me kiss you” you bring him up and kiss him passionately. He takes the hint, grabs at your hips and grunts. You can feel him already hardening again so you pull at his belt and pull down his pants and underwear. You softly grab him and start moving your hand up and down as he whimpers against your lips. You bring up your hand and spit onto it in order to create less friction when touching him.

“Please Ford- fuck me” you moan into his ear and he leans his head back in pleasure. “But i don't have-” you cut him off “there's some condoms in the front pocket of my bag, please” you emphasise your point by giving his cock another stroke. This seems to fuel him on to run to your bag and get the condom. He opens the packet and rolls it onto his member. He rubs his cock against your folds to collect your juices and as his head rubs against your oversensitive clit you moan. “Please put it inside” you hold onto his shoulders as he follows your request and pushes his tip in slowly.

He slowly pushes himself inside you until he's bottomed out inside you and you both groan. You move your hips experimentally and he whimpers at the feeling of you around him. He slowly starts to pull out and then thrusts back in with a moan of your name. You dig your fingers into the soft skin of his shoulders as he continues thrusting inside of you slowly. 

He continues gently until you decide to whisper in his ear something that changes his attitude completely “harder- please~”. He understands the message and suddenly picks you up and flips you around -while still inside of you- and bends you over the table. You moan at the sudden change of positions but you have no time to get used to it as he starts thrusting into you at a killer pace. He moves his hips sharply into you, with an almost mechanical pace as he pushes your chest onto the table with his broad torso. You can't help the sounds you let out each time he hits that deep spot inside of you. He grunts into your ear at each thrust and it makes your eyes water from all the pleasure.

You're suddenly pushed over the edge for the second time when he wraps his hand around your body and starts playing with you clit. You scream his name as you cum around his cock. His pace stutters a bit and he curses in your ear as he cums too for the second time.

He slowly eases you both down with some gentler thrusts and then exits out of you with a sensual pop. 

You lay down for a little while with your ass out before you gather some strength to get up. As soon as you do, your legs start to shake and Ford catches you in his arms and chuckles a bit with pride. “So…. did you like that?”  

You dead-pan him and say “no. i didn't like that. Of course I liked that you doofus!” he laughs a bit and kisses you again. “I just wanted to make sure!” he says against your lips. You giggle and pull him even closer “well, i enjoyed that a lot” you give him a small peck on the nose and then pull away to put your clothes back on. He disposes of the condom and goes to put on his pants but pauses. “I can't go out with a wet spot on my pants…. What should I do?” he looks terrified at the thought of walking around campus like that.

“Don't worry, i always carry an extra sweatshirt around in case the ac is too much in class” you laugh as he looks at you like you just saved his life “you are an angel!” he comes up to you and kisses you again before going back to putting on his pants. You hand him the sweatshirt and he ties it around his waist in order to hide the evidence of what happened.

He then comes up to you and hugs you. “You know i meant what i said, right? About liking you” you blush and then respond “i meant what i said too”

“Then can this not be a one time thing? I want to -if you’d want of course, there's no pressure if you don't want to do anything more than what happened today but-” you cut him off to spare him from rambling even more “i’d like to go on a date with you, Ford. i want to go out with you and be with you” he sighs with relief. “Great! Are you free tomorrow?” you check your calendar “yeah i should be- do you want to meet up?” 

“I would love that” he kisses your forehead before picking up your bag and the keys to the room.

You go out but as Ford locks the door, he realises something.

“Why do you have condoms in your bag?”

You immediately flush a deep red as you remember the fact that after first meeting him, your horney brain convinced you to put some condoms in your bag. ‘Just in case something happens’ you thought to yourself

“No reason” you yelp out and pull at his bicep so he continues walking and change the subject.

He chuckles at your antics but goes along with you.

He’ll just have to ask another time.

[laenordeservedbetter]

Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want

Words: 1k

Pairing: Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader (Godly parent not specified)

Synopsis: Clarisse was fine with not getting anything she wanted until she laid her eyes on you.

Warnings: Pining, whipped!Clarisse, This is mostly in Clarisse's POV, handling of dangerous weapons (a dagger and a spear). [Let me know if I missed any.]

A/N: I apologize if the storyline is messy. I wanted this to be longer, but my attention span was not cooperating with me today. I had to take a lot of breaks while writing this because I could not sit still for more than five minutes.

masterlist || previous work

—

Clarisse remembers the first time she saw you.

You were in the forge, polishing some of the newly-made spears because you had nothing better to do. You were under the supervision of Luke since he was showing you around, but the boy had kept his distance, opting to just watch from the sidelines as you worked. Clarisse had walked into the forge, the chatter that was going on around you stopping. You discontinued what you were doing in order to look at her, wondering why your fellow campers were on-edge at her presence.

Your eyes met hers, taking her aback.

She hadn’t seen you before.

Once Clarisse realized that she was staring, she promptly cleared her throat, scowling. “What are you looking at, newbie?” She asked, crossing her arms. Her plans on scaring you, however, failed when you smiled sheepishly.

You had been equally mesmerized by her, something that she failed to notice. “Sorry, you’re just so—”

Clarisse held her breath, preparing herself for an accusation (that she’s mean and terrifying – both of which are true, but words that sting nonetheless). Though, it’s not like she’s going to think about it for the rest of –

“—Pretty.” You conclude your sentence.

Oh.

Clarisse’s brows furrowed. She thought she would hear something insulting, but instead she was met with a compliment? Her eyes searched yours once again, looking for a trace of malice. She didn’t find any, which made her confusion stir all the more. She scoffs, furious at herself for not being able to figure you out. “Whatever.” Clarisse walks away, turning her back on you so as to not show her weakness. She storms back to the Ares cabin, forgetting the reason why she went to the forge in the first place.

You frown as you look at the dagger in your hand, examining the initials engraved on the grip.

C.L.R.

---

The next time Clarisse saw you was when you were watching her train, your eyes following her every move. Clarisse pretended to ignore you until she found herself unable to focus. She put down her spear, turned to you and asked, “Would you like me to teach you?” before she could even stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth.

You nodded eagerly, “Yes, please.”

You walked over and Clarisse pretty much had to use all her self-restraint to not just stand there and stare at you.

“…Alright, so you hold this and—”

---

It had been ages since that day.

Even though you and Clarisse have gotten closer, there was still a part of her that longs for more. See, ninety-nine percent of the time, her wishes don’t come true. Or it does, for a little while, but then it gets ripped away from her grasp. She gets her hopes up and then it all comes crashing down – a cycle that never ends.

Clarisse has come to terms with the thought that she will never gets what she wants. She supposed that she was okay with that, but then you came along and everything changed. For every smile, every crinkle of your nose, every stupid joke that made you laugh, she finds herself wanting to wish that you would feel the same way she does.

“Clary?”

She snaps out of her reverie and looks at you, “Yes?” She felt embarrassed for not paying attention, smiling apologetically.

“I asked if you wanted to—”

“Yes.”

You sit up in her bed, laughing. “I haven’t even finished the sentence yet.” You grab her hand gingerly, locking your fingers together. “I was going to ask if you wanted to go with me—”

“Yes.”

“Clarisse,” You whine, “Let me continue first.” You pout, trying to let go of her hand, but Clarisse wouldn’t let you.

Clarisse shakes her head, holding on to your hand firmly while her other brushes a strand of hair away from your face. “I don’t care. I’ll go wherever you go.” She says genuinely. Being that close to you made Clarisse’s heart race, but she couldn’t bring it in herself to look away because then you’ll know that something was up.

You stare at her in disbelief, crossing your arms, “Really? You’ll go with me to show the new kid around camp?”

Her lips purse and you know you’ve got her. Clarisse lets out a sigh of resignation. “No.” She mumbles. As much as she’d love to spend more time with you, she and you have very opposing ideas on how to welcome new campers.

“Thought so.” You deadpan.

“Why are you the one doing it, anyway?”

“Because I’m still in trouble for staying past curfew two days ago, pretty girl.”

Clarisse froze at the nickname. If her heart wasn’t beating fast before, it surely was now. You chuckle, beginning to make your way out of the bed. “Hey, no, where are you going?” Clarisse grabs your hand, another laugh escaping you.

“To give that tour.” You roll your eyes, successfully prying your hands away from Clarisse’s grip. You ignore her sounds of protest as you make your way to the door.

Clarisse could feel her stomach drop, feeling the warmth slip away the further your distance becomes. The longer she stares at you with your back turned, the longer she thinks you would leave without saying goodbye. To her surprise (and not for the first time), you look back at her.

“I’ll see you later at the bonfire.” You lean against the doorframe, your eyes narrowing. “Don’t be late, alright?”

Clarisse rolls her eyes at the look you give her. She was only late one time and that was because she was debating with herself whether to give you flowers or not. She wanted to tell you the real reason why she was late, but decided it would be best to keep her mouth shut. “I won’t.” She says instead.

“Good.” You straighten your posture, putting one foot out the door while a hand rested on the doorframe, giving Clarisse a smile she knows you only reserved for her. Only when she smiles back do you actually take your leave.

Clarisse gets a sense of hope upon your departure.

Maybe it would be different this time.

She leans back against the bed frame, sending out the same prayer to every god she could think of.

Please, please, please let me get what I want.

[dreamermonica]

—gender neutral reader x bakugou, just a drabble escalating into a oneshot cause my brain's rotting with mha (mostly katsuki) pls save me from the dump called writing block errr also mild language cuz this is boom boy

“what the hell?”

a very bad word crossed your mind the moment BAKUGOU had entered your dorm room—following shortly is a silence so dense that you swore you heard your stomach drop.

the object that had piqued the attention of your visitor were perched right upon your desk. the very same object that could very well also be the reason you meet your demise.

your dynamight plushies and figurines,

yes. plural.

—were bared in display, to the very man you harbored a big fat crush on.

the silence enveloped your room like a tight veil. a shudder makes its way down your spine when you finally felt a piercing gaze burning onto the back of your head. you are so fucked.

“i—uhm, i can explain!” you break the silence, holding your hands up whilst turning around to meet his crimson eyes—scanning you over whilst you attempt to figure out an excuse.

let's do a quick throwback:

see, you were rather confident in your abilities and quirk—one of the best, you smugly think—but academics were still a great obstacle to overcome, even for an upcoming pro hero. it's a formidable force that's against your dream becoming reality! not really, but you get the point.

damned ectoplasm shouldn't be teaching math! your brain cells were always fizzled out like kaminari's after he used up all his electricity by the time whenever ectoplasm had left the room after a discussion.

a dark cloud looms over your head more often after a particular topic you're struggling to comprehend, the fact that you were called out earlier by ectoplasm and miserably failed to answer didn't hell—and you're sure your god-sent classmates have noticed it.

a few smarties had reached out already—like yaoyorozu and iida, offering their notes with a smile and promising a few tutor lessons if you were to accept. keyword: if.

even though you were tearing up at their kindness and thoughtfulness, you gently declined them before slapping a fist to your chest—

“i shall overcome this by myself! my failure to adapt is a known weakness of mine, and i shall defeat this boss known as calculus with my own strength, no matter what it takes!”

a distant 'how manly!' sounded throughout the room.

it's not manly, you mentally cry out to kirishima. you were just embarrassed to actually get help because you were one of the top students of the class. you need to uphold your image as a capable student, whatever it takes! not so manly now, are we?!

the top one and top two worriedly glance you over, reluctant at your reasoning, but they hadn't pushed it further thankfully, and wished you good luck.

you definitely needed it, you sulk.

your stupid declaration must've spread throughout the entire class, cause now a scowling bakugou katsuki is stomping his way over to you once classes had finished, stopping a few feet away from you whilst you were packing up your stuff.

“oi. i heard your dumb ass earlier—why are you refusing to ask for help?! you plan on getting behind all of us just because of that damn picture perfect image of yours?!” he yells, and you're now sweating, twiddling with your fingers.

you're not surprised that he approached you—he had declared you as one of his rivals (he called you a stepping stone to his victory but same thing!) ages ago and knowing his competitive nature, you surmised he was probably disappointed that you were stumped in such a pathetic way.

“w-what pride do you mean, bakugo? haha...”

“shut the fuck up. you know what i'm talking about,” a finger presses onto your chest as if to emphasize his point, and you just now realize the distance between you.

caramel wafts its way to your nose. heat crawls up your neck as you avert your gaze away from his chiseled face.

he hisses at your dazed look, “i'm beating calculus into your goddamn brain later tonight whether you like it or not, you got that extra?!”

you break out of your stupor when he leans away from you to gauge your reaction. of course he'd say something like that, even if he was just trying to help.

you shrink under his gaze, embarrassed and defeated at his intensity. if even the big bad bakugo thinks you need help, then maybe you really do.

“...okay.” you resign after a few seconds of contemplation, “thank you, bakugo.”

clicking his tongue, he gives you one last look before turning on his heels, walking towards the door.

you look around and realize that you were the only ones left in the classroom. did he offer his help in private so you would keep the image you're upholding? eh, whatever, he was probably the embarrassed one because he never offers help willingly to anyone.

you blink.

wait—he never helps unless someone would beg on their knees for him, so why—

“...you were always the one preaching about lowering my pride or whatever,”

your eyes dart towards the sound of his voice where bakugo paused his steps at the exit, glaring at you over his shoulder.

he huffs as he adds on, “cut that shit out, hypocrite.”

you blink owlishly and he's gone as he turned the corner, his loud footsteps echoing through the hall.

shaking your head, you pack your stuff up and rush out the door shortly after, eager to return to the comfort provided by your bed.

his words ring in your ears as you walked back to the dorms.

—now, baam, we're back to the present.

you're so fucked, if it wasn't mentioned earlier.

bakugou katsuki is now staring at you, silently demanding an explanation on why you have a row of mini dynamights, ranging from the winter version of his costume, to one of him wearing his signature black tank top—he hasn't even debuted yet as a pro-hero, so the amount you have is probably concerning. maybe even borderline creepy.

fuck being creepy—this probably looks horrifying!

“it's—uh...”

you hadn't had the chance to hide them before he so rudely, barged into your room carrying the materials needed for your study session.

“well, you're my idol, because you're so strong and—” inflate his ego! it's not like it wasn't the truth either with how much you compliment him during training, so maybe he'll be distracted enough and let it slide—

“did ponytail make these for you?” he asked quietly, ignoring your praises and walking past your panicked state as he got closer to inspect the tiny versions of him. he slowly took one from the bunch—a plushie of him wearing the suit he specifically used for a mission in otheon. “how the hell are the outfits so accurate?”

“...”

“answer my questions and i'll let this weird obsession of yours a secret, fuckin' creep.” he seems to like the way you took in his words, horrified, a smirk dancing on his lips as he turns away.

this sadist, you swear to all might...

“okay, okay! so uh...” you gulp as he continues inspecting the army of tiny bakugous, “yes, i had yaoyorozu make them. as for the outfits—i borrowed your blueprints, remember? it was to find some inspiration in enhancing my own costume, but i guess it also had some other uses...?”

he grunts in response to your explanation as his eyes move away from the desk and land onto your bed, where a few more plushies of him resided.

your face is definitely burning up by now.

“wasn't aware you were a fan,” you could hear the grin as he spoke, and you're one hundred percent sure he's never going to live this down, “well, i guess it's expected. i am amazing after all.”

“...yeah.” you agree, albeit cautious, trying to sound uneager to avoid inflating his ego anymore than you already have.

he moves to lean over your bed and grabs a plushie of him wearing his school uniform, squeezing it lightly, “but if you want me to be honest—this shit's kinda creepy.”

would he stop you if you just took a swan dive out of your window? should you get him to roast you alive right now? you wish all might would just united-states-smash you at this moment.

your hands shoot up to your face as you crouched down, too humiliated to even look at him even if he wasn't facing you.

“kill me now...”

“i've got plenty of chances to do that in the future, don't worry,” he's oddly calm for someone who's standing in a room practically devoted to him, “this is pretty adorable of you i must admit,”

you freeze. tickle my pickle! no fucking way he just called you adorable!

“you got a crush on me or something?”

ah.

this is it. you hope you've done enough good to end up in heaven atleast.

“well, if you're not gonna kill me, we should probably just study and get it over with—oh, we should also just go down to the commons—

“i told you to answer all my questions, didn't i!?”

“...”

the blonde finally turns, hands free of any plushies, crossing his arms over his chest as you stare up at him through the gaps of your fingers. he raises a challenging brow at your hesitation.

“well?” he urges on, “did you go mute from embarrassment or something?”

you say something underneath your breath and he clicks his tongue in annoyance.

“speak up, you idio—”

“i like you, bakugou katsuki.”

you stand up from your crouched position and situated yourself to your desk, bringing out your textbooks from a drawer as he stared on silently. the silence had grown thicker than the one before.

“let's just get this study session over with so you can go, okay?” you spin around your office chair to look at him with a small smile, as if you didn't just confess, “wanna go down to the commons? my room seems to be uncomfortable for y—

“i was joking about the creep shit, you dumbass.”

you stare at him in surprise when he holds you by the shoulders, gently pushing down to prevent you from getting up from your chair.

“bakugou...?”

“...i'll teach you here. no need to get up.”

“but—”

“shut up. get ponytail to make me a plushie of you so we're even, alright?”

confused, you're about to speak up again and he resolves it by squeezing your cheeks, resulting in only incoherent babbles from your mouth.

“bafhkugou—!”

“ugh, i like you too, if your dumbass hasn't gotten it yet.”

“ohfmayghodf—”

“shut it. no more words from you.” he waits a moment for you to calm down, and lets go of your burning cheeks. a smile grows on his face when you weakly glare up at him, but it quickly turns wicked in the span of a second.

“now...you were so eager to start studying earlier, weren't you?”

he unfortunately wasn't joking about beating the damn subject onto your brain. you could feel a mild headache from all the times he hit your head with a roll of paper.

but nonetheless, you know the hard work and pain paid off when you finally got a question right during ectoplasm's class.

bless bakugou, you'd kiss him right now if you could—

“so,” the boy in question starts as you discreetly hand him a plushie of you in your hero costume, he seems to brighten up at that, taking it nearly immediately, but attempts to appear unbothered as he moves his gaze back to yours.

“are we gonna talk about that body pillow last night or—”

“katsuki—no.”

“pfft,” he snorts, “suit yourself, fangirl.”

imagine your surprise when yaoyorozu snitches and tells you that bakugou practically threated her to make more plushies of you after he received the initial one

[moonstruckme]

this is such a specific request and i’m back and forth about making it because it feels silly but i’m so in love with the way you write james i had to take a chance. i had a bad experience going down on a guy once and i just can’t enjoy it since, but guys often aren’t very understanding about it. i was wondering if you’d write something with james and reader where she doesn’t enjoy it (and it doesn’t have to be for the reason i stated, any reason is fine!), and he’s being such a sweetheart about it. no worries if this request is too much!

Thank you for requesting <3

cw: smut mdni

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 634 words

When James’ head disappears beneath the covers for a second time, your guilt catches up with you. 

You lift up the sheets. You can’t lie to yourself, it’s an alluring sight—James looking up from where he’d been kissing under your navel, long lashes fluttering in happy surprise and one big hand already wrapped securely around your thigh. His lips stay half an inch from your skin.

You decide to drop the sheets rather than tire your arms holding them up. They bubble you in there with him, the morning light filtering through and casting you both half in shadow. 

“Hey,” you say awkwardly.

James’ smile splits his face. “Hi, there.” He finishes what he started, kissing the skin below your navel tenderly. “Nice of you to join me down here.” 

“Thought I should see what you seemed so interested in,” you joke. 

He squeezes your thigh roughly. “It’s quite the view, as you can see.” 

“Yeah,” you laugh half-heartedly. “Sure.” 

Something on your face must give you away. James’ hand smooths out on your thigh. He presses a kiss to the inside, gentle but enough to make your nerves jump. “Something wrong?”

“I don’t think you should do this,” you blurt. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, and, um, we should probably go back to doing other things.” 

James makes no move other than to distance his lips from your leg. “Okay,” he says simply. “If you don’t feel like it anymore, that’s fine. Do you not want me to touch you?” 

“No, it’s—it’s not you.” You give him a little smile, aiming for reassuring. “You’re fine. I just don’t think we should do oral.” 

He blinks. “You don’t think we should or you don’t want to?” 

“I don’t think we should.” Because trust me, I want to. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let you do it the first time. I can’t—or not can’t, I just don’t want to reciprocate.” The confession tumbles out of you like yarn unspooled. “Sorry. I really don’t like blowjobs.” 

“Oh.” It appears to take James a few seconds to process this. When he does, his expression isn’t what you anticipated. He smiles crookedly, eyebrows scrunching like he’s caught between bemusement and humor. “Sweetheart, you could have just said that. That’s alright.” 

You give him a weak smile. “Thanks for being cool about it. I know I should’ve told you earlier, it just…I got caught up, and it felt really good.” You feel your face heating and drop your gaze. “Anyway, it was selfish. Sorry to lead you on.” 

“What? Angel.” James gives your thigh a little shake. “I mean I don’t mind. Really, I’ll eat you out either way. It’s not just so you’ll give me something in return.” 

Now it’s your turn to blink. “What do you mean?” 

He gives you a half-lidded look, both knowing at teasing. “I mean that I like doing this. And even if I didn’t, you hardly forced me. You didn’t promise me anything. You’re allowed to do—or not do—whatever you like.” 

“You’re serious?” You glean from James’ expression that you must look as shocked as you feel. “You really don’t care? You’d tell me if you did, right?” 

He grins, kissing again the sensitive skin inside your thigh. “Yeah, honey. I promise I’d tell you.”

“Oh. Thanks.” 

He laughs. “No problem. So do you mind if I keep going now? If you want me to stop, that’s okay too.” 

“Um.” You rub your lips together, looking down at him. James waits patiently, but his palm starts moving up and down your thigh, a soothing touch that leaves a trail of heat in its wake. “Sure. If you don’t mind.” 

He holds eye contact with you as he lowers his head. His breath is hot on your cunt. “Not at all.”

[ariestrxsh]

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ─•~❉᯽❉~•─ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, praise/degradation, oral, fingering, threesome, sex, getting caught, creampie

✍️ Summary: ✍️ Matt finds incriminating evidence on your phone that leads him to believe you find him and his brother Chris attractive, and things get heated between the two of you. And while Matt is coaxing your fantasies out of you, Chris walks in and overhears. They decide to give you exactly what you want.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ─•~❉᯽❉~•─ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Just then, Nick strode into the room, "Did I hear Matt say you're in love with Chris?" I was embarrassed, wondering how much Nick had heard from our conversation. Matt loosened his grip around my wrist, gave my phone back to me, and readjusted the chain around his neck. The whole reason Matt was teasing me is because he caught me two days before, when I opened my tiktok, and the first thing that popped up was a suggestive edit of Chris I had already liked. In the moment it happened, Matt gasped. I immediately closed tiktok, locked my phone, and buried my face in my hands. I didn't have feelings for any of the brothers. I just had the occasional dirty-minded thoughts about them. I'd wonder how often they touched themselves, what kind of porn they'd watch while doing it, what kind of sounds they'd make when they got close...

2 on

"Give me that!" I launched myself across Matt on the couch who was holding my phone over his head. "What? You don't want me to confess your love to Chris for you?" Matt smirked and laughed as he watched me struggle to get my phone from him. Matt was in washed out blue jeans and a black t shirt that wasn't quite a crop top, but I loved how much of his stomach it showed off with his arm lifted up. "I'm not in love with Chris!" I blushed. "I just think he's hot." I made another attempt to snatch my phone back from him. "You know he's my triplet brother and I look just like him, right? Does that mean-?" He teased, but I cut him off, "Give it to me!" I yelled, completely ignoring his question, reaching for my phone. With his free hand, Matt grabbed my wrist. Tight. I felt the coldness of his rings. His smile fell and he looked at me for a moment with a look I could have sworn was one of lust, "beg for it," he growled. I felt a tightness in my stomach and a warmth between my legs, but I couldn't let Matt know what was going on inside me when he did that. Of course, I thought Matt and Chris were hot, and of course this man gripping my wrist and telling me to beg had me weak, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing what he'd done. "Wouldn't you love that?" I smirked at him. "You know, it doesn't matter, tell Chris whatever you want."

"I am not. Matt's just being a dick," I said to Nick, pushing all those thoughts to the back of my mind. "Yeah, that's why she looks at sexy edits of him on tiktok." Matt responded. I smacked Matt's shoulder and glared at him. "Hahaha what?" Nick said. "I gotta go. Let me know if you guys need anything while I'm out." Nick grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair. "I'll be gone for an hour or so. Don't look at too many Chris edits, you two," Nick retorted as he left the room.

Matt rolled his eyes. He then turned his attention back towards me. "So have you ever touched yourself here while looking at Chris edits?" Matt bit his lip and gently ran his hand up my skirt and grazed the inside of thigh. I was shocked by what he was doing. We had teased each other in a sexual manner before, but never in such a direct way. I inhaled sharply when I felt his hand between my legs and bit down on my lip to suppress a moan, "No." I couldn't believe this was happening. I felt Matt's eyes on me, and he wasn't joking around. He was getting off on teasing me like this. "Did you just lie to me?" He asked while he ran his fingers up and down the front of my underwear. I knew he could feel how wet I was, and I was so ashamed. "Because your body is telling me otherwise," Matt shot me a devilish grin. "No," I lied again. "Oh okay," he pulled back immediately, and his tone changed. He went back over to his side of the couch and started scrolling through his phone. "W-wait. Why'd you stop?" I asked, my body aching for him. "Because you're being a bad girl and lying to me," his blue eyes locked onto mine. He had me in a trance. Information you once could never get out of me, was dancing at the tip of tongue at the thought of Matt grazing the wet spot under my skirt if I told the truth. But I couldn't fold that easily. "No, why would I do that?" I dumbly asked. "I dunno, maybe 'cause he looks like me and apparently you get really wet when I grab onto your wrists and humiliate and tease you, but you think you're sneaky about it," he laughed while looking down at his phone. I was too embarrassed and shocked to answer, but he was right. After a few minutes of silence, he said, "You really think you can hold out longer than I can?" He smirked in my direction. He leaned in and towered over me as if he were gonna kiss me. He looked deeply into my eyes, and then I realized he was grabbing the remote that was on the other side of me. He slowly retracted back to his side of the couch, turned on the TV and started flipping through channels. He knew what he was doing, and he was good at it. I couldn't take it anymore.

I reached over to grab the remote that was suggestively between Matt's legs, and I turned the TV off. "If I tell you the truth, will you please touch me?" I batted my eyelashes while looking directly into his eyes. A smile crept across his face. I could tell he loved the chokehold he had me in. "Of course, but since you were a naughty girl and you lied to my face, the stakes are higher now," he whispered. Oh what now, I wondered. No matter how degrading the next words to come out of his mouth were, I knew I'd do anything. He had me wrapped around his finger, figuratively of course, but I hoped for the literal sense too. I wondered if he knew, and I wondered how far he would take it. I was both nervous and excited. "You have to tell me how you touch yourself when you think about Chris and look at edits of him," Matt responded, lifting my skirt and shifting his eyes back and forth between my eyes and my soaked panties. Oh, he was good. I started spilling immediately, "Well I usually start by getting my fingers wet with my tongue.. and then I start rubbing my clit in little circles," I blushed and let out a nervous giggle.

He knelt down on the ground between my legs and started gently rubbing up and down my slit over my panties. "Keep going. Keep telling me how you fondle yourself to the thought of my brother," he encouraged me. I gasped at the words that left his mouth. I was so turned on by his dominating nature. "I rub my clit in slow, small circles, and once it starts to feel really good, I apply a little more pressure and I go a little faster." "Like this?" He said, putting his thumb on my wet spot and playing with it just the way I like. I bit my lip and let out a soft moan. I looked into his eyes and nodded. "Just like that." I whimpered. "Good girl. Do you ever pretend your fingers are Chris' tongue?" He smiled mischievously. I bit my lip and slowly nodded.

"Do you ever think about my tongue when you play with yourself?" He asked, looking up at me with his fingers dancing across the front of my panties. I was so ashamed that I had that I felt about lying, but I was afraid he'd know and stop what he was doing. "Mhmmm," I let out as a moan. I could tell he liked that answer. "Have you ever used any toys?" He asked moving my panties to the side and making direct contact with my clit. He looked into my eyes while he did this, knowing he was driving me crazy. "Y-yes. I have a vibrator," I stammered. "Good girl. You ever use it while you're thinking about me and Chris?" I innocently nodded. "Tell me about it," he whispered running his fingers over my sensitive spot over and over again. "It's pink, mmm, and has a lot of different settings. Oh my god," I moaned as Matt applied more pressure. "Who would you want hitting it from the back and who would you want in your mouth if we all had a threesome?" Matt asked, and I was humiliated that I already had an answer. "You.. in my mouth," I said in a breathy voice. "Does that mean you'd want Chris' cock here?" Matt slid his middle finger into me without warning. "Oh!" I yelped. "Yes, yes, yes," I confessed.

"What a good girl you are for telling me about your fantasies," Matt lowered his head and positioned them between my legs. "Your pussy is so pretty. You deserve a reward," his tongue flicked over my sensitive clit, and I moaned in response. After swirling his tongue around moaning with his lips against my pussy, he pulled away to ask, "Is it as good as you imagined?" He was looking right into my eyes as he went back to eating me. "Even better," I told him.

This was the exact reason I wanted Matt in my mouth and Chris from behind. Although Matt had been dominant with me and humiliated me, all of which I loved, there was a softness to him. I loved the way it sounded when he called me good girl, when he praised me, when he appreciated my body, the eye contact. Chris, on the other hand, I had a feeling was all rough. I knew he'd degrade me and use me and take me like he was marking his territory, all of which I also loved. I could picture Matt in my mouth running his fingers across my jawline, telling me what a good job I was doing and Chris, ramming into me relentlessly from behind, telling me what a slut I am, and the idea of having two polar opposites at the same time had me a pathetic, writhing mess.

"Matt, I can't believe you haven't fucked her yet, you fucking pussy," I jumped at the sound of Chris's voice. Matt and I both shot our glances in his direction. He was in a black tank top, grey sweats that were doing almost nothing to hide his erection, and had a backwards hat on. I had no idea how long he'd been standing there, what he had heard, what he had seen. Matt and I were both frozen. "Let me show you how it's done," Chris said, ordering his brother out of the way, pulling down his sweats and underwear. "If you fucking cum before I tell you to, you're gonna be in so much trouble," Chris smiled down at me, looking into my eyes and shoving his shaft into me. There was no mercy, no gentleness, no patience. He just took me, right then and there, jackhammering me in front of Matt. I couldn't help but to cry out in pain and pleasure as Chris took what he wanted. "Wow, you did get her nice and wet though," Chris whispered, and I wondered if he knew how much he had to do with it. Matt watched in awe as Chris' cock slid in and out of me with incredible vigor. "Oh, you like that, don't you? You like getting railed by my brother while I watch," Matt smiled. I couldn't hide it. I fucking loved it. I didn't know who to focus on, Chris who was lost in the throes of ecstasy, eyes rolled in to the back of his head. Or Matt, who was reaching into his jeans to free his aching dick, while his eyes shifted back and forth between me and Chris. Matt was smiling and blushing while I took Chris' length, and he started stroking himself to the sight. "Chris, she fucking loves it when you ruin her," Matt whimpered. "I know, the little whore is so cockdumb for us," Chris growled. "Oh, Chris," I moaned while he degraded me. They were right, I loved it, and I'd do anything for them to keep going. "Well Matt, don't just stand there and watch, let's fulfill her fantasy. Go put it in her mouth." I felt my pussy throb at Chris' words, and he knew it too. Well, Chris had certainly been lurking long enough to hear what I said about wanting them both at the same time, and where I wanted each of them. No matter how dominant Matt and I both thought we were, we were weak to Chris' commands, and he knew he was in charge of us both.

Chris threw me around like a ragdoll, repositioned me on the couch, so I had my head on the arm rest of the couch, Chris between my legs, and Matt came around to my face. He kissed my lips, and I started to feel something deeper than lust for him. When he pulled away, he gently caressed my forehead. "You look so pretty taking Chris' cock," Matt said, looking down at me. He pulled my shirt off and unhooked my bra. Matt smiled and leaned down to take one of my nipples into his mouth. His tongue was like magic. He pulled away and let his member slap against my cheek. He grinned as I opened my mouth for him. He was so slow and gentle, and the eye contact while he was slowly pumping himself in and out of my mouth was incredible. I loved feeling the tip of his cock with my tongue. He looked at me in desperation and moaned my name. "Good girl. Eyes on me." He moved his hips back and forth, prodding the inside of my mouth. He caressed my face where his dick had made an indent, and he let out a sigh that was almost a moan. I relished in how he reacted to his own touch through my cheek and how amazing it felt to have him poking my mouth with his length. He continued caressing himself through my cheek while Chris was now focused on us. Matt grabbed my face in a rougher manner and started driving his cock further down my throat. "Oh my god. Yes, take it. Good girl. Take it." I watched Chris' facial expressions and watched a darkness come over him while Matt continued relentlessly fucking my mouth. I could tell how much he loved the sight of Matt being rough with me. "One cock could never be enough to satisfy you after this, isn't that right?" Chris muttered in between moans. I watched his eyes roll back into his head again, and he smiled like he was having the time of his life. It was too much. They were both moaning, both penetrating me, and both either praising or degrading me, and I almost couldn't take it. "I'm gon' cum," I choked out with Matt's cock still buried in my throat. "You fucking better not," Chris snarled at me, but he picked up the pace, making it nearly impossible to hold out. Tears started to well in my eyes. Matt paused for a second and leaned over me, "Are you okay? You look like you're crying," he had concern in his voice, and he rubbed my forehead. "I'm better than ever, it just feels so good!" I screamed, reaching for Matt's length once more. He put it back in my mouth and choked me even more this time. Watching Matt's eyes roll back into his head while I gagged on him sent me over the edge. My orgasm tore through me. It was impossible to hide. I moaned very loudly and trembled my way through my climax. This had a contagious effect on Matt, and I felt him twitch in my mouth as he made a mess on my tongue, and he let out a guttural moan.

"What the FUCK did I tell you!?" Chris barked. Matt and I both smiled at each other as we tried our best to recover. "That was amazing, pretty girl," Matt said brushing the underside of my chin with his fingers. "You think you can fucking ignore me and get away with it," Chris was the most pissed off I'd ever seen him. In about two seconds, he had completely flipped me over. He continued to rail me harder and faster than anyone ever had. "Dirty little defiant slut. Oh fuck. You cum when I tell you that you can," Chris moaned. "Don't ever do that shit again." He spanked me hard and I let out a yelp. "Chris, I think you're hurting her," Matt chimed in. "No the fuck I'm not. She was made for this shit, and she loves it. She's a fucking whore. She loves when you choke her with your meat. She loves when I do this-" Chris said, taking a fistful of my hair and pulling. Hard. He also started fucking me at an incredible speed. How did Chris know me so well? I had never told him what I liked or how I wanted it, and it's like he could smell it from a mile away. "Chris. Please. Don't stop!" I called out as he hit my gspot over and over again. "Awh look she's begging," Chris teased me. He loved how pathetic and helpless I looked.

Matt watched us in awe, getting turned on all over again. Chris flipped me over again, with ease, so I was on my back. He forced my legs apart as much as he could and inserted himself into me again. He slapped me across my face and I gasped. I loved the way Chris was handling me. "Fucking slut. You were made for my cock. Take it like the dirty little girl you are." I'd never seen this side of Chris before. I couldn't take my eyes off him and the way it seemed like he was absolutely possessed by lust. "You use me so good, Chris," I moaned. I watched an insidious smile creep across his gorgeous face. "Cum for me," Chris commanded. I had almost given up on Chris giving me permission to cum. "Do it, bitch. Cum on my cock." I felt my orgasm wash over me like a powerful wave. I was seeing stars. And as I came, I felt Chris' cock throbbing inside me and heard his sounds of release. We came in unison, Chris collapsing on top of me after. "Wow. You have to let Matt have a turn. Your pussy feels so good," Chris said, shifting his gaze from me to Matt.

Chris got up off the couch, and I watched as Matt took his place, his member still hard from watching me with his brother. Matt was so much more gentle, but it still felt just as incredible. He propped my leg up on his shoulder and slowly entered me. "You look so pretty taking cock." He caressed my face and looked into my eyes. Sex with Matt was so intimate and special. It felt like the aftercare I needed after being thrown around by his brother. The way our bodies invited and accepted one another felt like magic. I knew I wouldn't last long. Chris walked over and looked down at me, biting his lip. He put his dick in my face and without saying a word, I opened it for him. They felt so different from one another but both equally incredible. We were all muttering profanities and rubbing against each other like animals in heat. I couldn't get enough. Just as I felt myself at the brink of another orgasm, the door to the room we were in flew open, and I watched as Nick stood in the doorway, jaw on the floor and speechless. "Oh my god! Nick.." I whispered right before I came, and I did so, looking right into Nick's eyes. Both brothers turned around but continued thrusting themselves into me. I think Nick catching us all was the cherry on top of the threesome, and we all came in unison. I loved having Chris' nut in my mouth and Matt's in my pussy. We were all too pleased with ourselves to let the embarrassment get to us. If anything, being caught was hot.

"What. The. Fuck." Nick finally said, still staring at us, naked, out of breath, and covered in each other's fluids. Chris rolled his eyes and turned back to me, but once his eyes met mine that were still lingering at the boy in the doorway, he picked up on something. Another diabolical smile appeared on his face. "You liked getting caught by Nick. Is that what made you cum? Naughty girl. I bet if Nick had walked in sooner, you would have wanted to take all three of us at the same time, huh?"

[bombuni]

contains: cowboy!sanhwa x fem!bratty!reader, city girl? reader, teasing, mean seonghwa & mean san, riding, threesome

“Is that as deep as you can go?”

You can’t really reply to Seonghwa with San’s cock halfway inside you. Your mind is numbed by him, your entire body on fire as you stretch to fit him in. Seonghwa’s words do get to you, but they only spur you on to take San’s cock whole.

Your eyes focus on San’s rapidly rising chest, but you can hear Seonghwa’s panting breath as he watches you, “Didn’t peg you for a dirty pervert, Hwa,”

Your voice is breathless and weak, barely there as your instinct to bite back overtakes the pleasure from San. Seonghwa only chuckles in response, squeezing his cock to hold back from cumming in his jeans at the sight of San bottoming out inside you. Your body relaxes against San’s below you, who’s hips you have to forcefully still.

Seonghwa stares back at your challenging eyes when you look up at him, “What? You think you’ve already tamed him?”

You grind your hips and San’s hands fly to dig into your hips, his guttural groan floating straight to your core. Your smile is venomous as it stares down at San, who’s worried he’s entered a dangerous territory, “He’s putty in my hands.”

Seonghwa leans against the hay bales behind him, legs spread as he smirks down at you like you’ve said a ridiculous thing. You don’t say anything about the bulge that stares back at you.

His buckle shines in the sun as he fiddles with it, “San’s a bucking stud, sweetheart. Can’t be tamed, right, Sannie?”

San nods, but his fingers are squeezing you so hard you’re sure they’ll bruise. He lets out a breath as if he’s trying to steady himself.

Seonghwa continues, even though he already knows how weak San really is. He just likes to watch the way his blushing cheeks glow underneath you, “‘Specially by a city girl,”

Seonghwa knows how to get under your skin. He pretends to be nice and sweet, but underneath that first layer of him is another layer of pure, unbridled sadism. Ever since you had first come to their ranch, Seonghwa’s comments about your origin were always there. A background noise to whatever endeavors you were up to. San, unfortunately, just found himself to be caught in the middle of whatever kind of battle this was.

Seriously, what were you actually trying to prove here? You’d sort of forgotten whatever it was that started this. You just knew that riding lessons with Seonghwa were a bad idea, because now you were riding something completely different.

While you were adrift in your thoughts, you hadn’t realized you’d been squeezing down on San so tightly. Once he finally reached his breaking point, he easily broke out of the flimsy hold you had on him and pulled you down to hold you against his chest. You felt his sweaty, warm pecs under your hands as you tried to brace yourself against him. The force of his hips as he thrust up against you had you grasping for any hold, his wet cock filling you like it was made to.

You tried to hold back your moans, tried to get San to stop, but to no avail. His big, glistening arms held you tight in your place. He abuses your pussy like it belongs to him, ramming into you over and over as your juices flow between your bodies and down his abdomen.

From where he sits, Seonghwa can see San’s balls slapping against your wet pussy so clearly. The wet spot on his working pants just grows bigger and bigger, cock straining to be free and inside you too.

Your point is moot now, but San’s big cock slamming inside you makes up for Seonghwa’s teasing to come. San growls in your ear, arms tightening around you when you tighten around him.

Seonghwa can’t stop shaking now, hands working himself against the fabric of his jeans, “See, sweetheart? So fucking bratty for no reason, but I know better. You just needed a cock inside you to shut you up,”

You moan pathetically against San’s neck and he can’t help but coo at you. He slows his thrusts down, but he doesn’t show mercy. He slowly fills you to the hilt, letting your pussy memorize every inch of his before pulling out completely and repeating the process. He aims to break you completely.

You’re still whining and San tsk’s, “She still won’t shut up, Hwa.”

Seonghwa finally stands from where he watches over you, the sound of his buckle ringing through your ears as he takes off his pants, “Well, the lesson ain’t over.”

bom note: i got a little carried away 🕴️as the worlds number one (1) american western history nerd and general cowboy thirster i just have to write every time they do anything cowboy .. if u haven’t played the red dead series and u like cowboys go play it!

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Boyfriend!Hwang Hyunjin x F!Reader TW : angst ; Hyunjin is just sad (which is honestly relatable) ; reader thinks they're pregnant ; reader might be pregnant ; symptoms of pregnancy ; fluff ending ; Word Count : 2.0k Request : Annony : Can I request and angsty fic Where Hyunjin has just been going through a really rough time and y/n tries her best to be there for him and keeps waiting for the right time to tell him she thinks she’s pregnant. He just keeps crying and he doesn’t know why he’s so sad, but slowly he gets out of it a bit. One morning he wakes up because y/n is having morning sickness and showing other symptoms so she has no choice but to finally open up and tell him everything. They take a test and well…I’ll let you take creative control after this. I’m really excited I’ve thought this request through a lot and I hope you decide to write it

“Hey, you okay?” Your coworker asked as she walked into the breakroom. Your head had been resting against the table, your eyes squeezed tightly shut as you tried to count your breaths. “Feeling dizzy again?” She asked when you didn’t answer her first question, and you gave her weak thumbs up in response. “Maybe you are… you know… the p word.” She whispered, and it’s not like it was a bad word to say, it’s just that you didn’t want anyone else that you worked with to know. 

“I’m too nervous to test…” You mumbled, and she knew exactly why. She was your only confidant at this point, especially since Hyunjin was going through his own personal problems. You didn’t want to stack anything else on top of whatever else was bothering him. All you did know was that, no matter how much you tried to help him or console him, he’d be right back to crying soon after. “Plus, it would be too soon… I don’t want to test too early or anything…” 

To be honest, home life wasn’t really the best right now. It’s not that there were any arguments, there was no fighting, but it was obvious that Hyunjin was stressed about something, and you were mentally stressed about potentially being pregnant, so the last thing you needed was triple the stress for both of you if a test came out positive. Even just thinking about it felt like too much right now.  

“Well you can’t wait forever. I mean… With his job, he gets stressed very easily. What are you gonna do? You can’t just hide potentially important things from him every time he gets upset or stressed out.” You rolled your eyes at your coworkers' sudden nagging, and while you knew that it came from a place of concern and care, you didn’t need that right now. You didn’t need to be parented, you needed someone to just be there for you. 

“He doesn’t get stressed easily, and you make it sound like he’s like this all the time. I’m not hiding things from him either, I’m giving him time to get in the right place mentally before dropping something like this on him.” You quickly defended your boyfriend, silently wishing that you hadn’t told your coworker anything at all. “He’s a good boyfriend, and just because he gets stressed and upset sometimes doesn’t change that.”

“I’m not saying that he’s not a good boyfriend for you… I just feel like you cater to him and his feelings a lot because of his job and your feelings get pushed to the backburner.” She tried to explain, but she couldn’t be further from the truth. 

“I’m not having this conversation right now. I appreciate you caring and trying to look out for me, but my relationship is fine. He’s a great guy… Okay? I have to get back to work now, enjoy your break.” 

///

Hyunjins moment seemed to last longer and longer. He’d lock himself in his room the moment he walked through the front door and you’d hear him cry for hours until things went silent, and the only reason things got quiet is because he’d cry himself to sleep. There was nothing you could do to help him because he wouldn’t even talk to you about it, and a part of you wondered if he’d ever get out of the funk he was in. 

With the time that passed, the symptoms only grew stronger. Your headaches were getting worse, the nausea was almost unbearable, even your boobs hurt. You wanted to excuse it as reading into the symptoms too much, you thought that your mind was playing tricks on you. You wanted to find any reason you could to hold off on testing until Hyunjin got better because you didn’t want to be alone when you found out, no matter what the result was. 

When Hyunjin was around, you tried to hide the symptoms from him. If you started feeling sick, you’d quickly go off to the bathroom and turn on the sink, hoping that you wouldn’t actually start throwing up. The tiredness that you felt was written off as working too many hours and being on your feet too long. Luckily he was none the wiser to the soreness in your breasts because you hadn’t been with him in any physical way since he had been in his funk. You missed him, and you wanted to blame the potentially surging hormones for the tears that would be shed when you’d lay in the same bed beside him at night without a single kiss or those three words that would make you feel like he did still love you. 

The longer it lasted, the more you would think about what your coworker had said. No matter how much you tried to get those words out of your head, they would constantly pop up. When you would hear him crying in the room and you’d try to help him, but it was like he was shutting you out. Not only did it feel like he was pushing you away, but it felt like you were by yourself. He wasn’t the only one going through something right now, and you wanted so badly to tell him, but for some reason you were trying so hard to protect him that you weren’t even worried about yourself. 

Even still, you didn’t want to give up on him. You loved him, and you truly believed that he just needed time, that he’d get better sooner or later, and no matter what, you’d stick by him, even if it meant pushing your own stresses, your own worries to the side until he got better. 

///

He was starting to feel better, he really was. It had been a week since the last time he had cried, and while he still doesn’t fully understand himself why things had gotten so bad or why he was so upset, he was thankful that he had you by his side the entire time, even if it didn’t seem that way. He wanted to take you out today, to show you that he appreciated you and everything that you do for him. He wanted to show you that he truly does love you, and that he’s grateful that you didn’t give up on him through this entire thing. 

The bed was already empty, which wasn’t rare as of lately considering he always seemed to sleep in, but one look at the clock on the bedside table made him fully aware that it was too early for even you to be awake. He could have sworn you came to bed last night, that he had felt the warmth of your body beside him underneath the covers. Had you gone to the couch at some point in the middle of the night? Were you finally pulling away? 

Just as he was pushing the comforter off of his body, he heard what sounded like gagging and choking and he never moved so fast in his life. Tripping over his own feet, he rushed into the bathroom to find you doubled over the toilet, sweat beading up on your forehead and spit dribbling down from the corner of your mouth. It’s like you didn’t even realize he was there, or maybe you just didn’t want to acknowledge him as you tried your best to seemingly catch your breath. 

“Baby… What’s wrong?” He whispered, kneeling down beside you to try to get you to look at him, but you only shook your head, pushing yourself up to your feet with the help of the side of the bathtub, leaving him on the floor and even more worried than before. “Are you mad at me? I’m sorry… Do you want me to leave you alone?” 

“No…” You said, your voice slightly raspy, and he could only assume that it was because of getting sick, but you sounded so tired too. He didn’t know how sick you were, he didn’t know what was going on or how long you had been feeling like this, but he wanted to be there for you now, no matter what was wrong. “I think… I might be pregnant…” Your head lowered, as if you were ashamed to be telling him that, although he wasn’t sure why. 

Of course, he wasn’t ready to be told something like that, he was sure that no man was ever truly ready to hear that, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t ready to step up and be the man that you and his potential child would need. “Okay… Well, I can run to the store and pick up some tests and we can find out if you are…” 

“I… Already have the tests. They’re in my purse…” You admitted and he nodded along slowly, trying not to get too upset that you had potentially been going through this for longer than he thought. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay first. I didn’t want to do this alone…” Alone… He had left you all alone to deal with these worries and these thoughts and these fears. “You… You are okay… Right?” 

His head nodded swiftly, his eyes that were brimming with tears of guilt glistened in the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom. “I am… I’m okay. You’re not alone, I’m here and no matter what happens… I’m going to stay here with you. I love you…” He finally got up off the floor, scrambling to his feet just to stand in front of you, his eyes finally meeting yours for what felt like the first time. “You have nothing to worry about… I’ll always be here… I promise.” 

///

“Out of the way! Out of the way! Move it! Excuse us! Make room! Pregnant girlfriend coming through!” Hyunjin shouted as he walked with you down the halls of the JYPE building. He was so loud, you were sure that even the people the next floor up could hear him coming, he was like a damn fire truck with its sirens on. You rolled your eyes at the rambunctiousness of it all. “What? I just don’t want anyone to bump into you or anything. I’m trying to keep you and baby Jinnie safe.” 

Your eyebrows arched at the little nickname that he had given the baby, you hadn’t heard him say it before. You had had an ultrasound the day before, and the doctor had asked if you wanted to know the gender of the baby, but you and Hyunjin had both agreed to keeping it a secret until the birth. “Baby Jinnie, huh? Where’d you come up with that name?” You quizzed, wondering if maybe his curiosity had gotten the better of him and he had just asked the doctor what the baby would be on his way out of the exam room. 

“Isn’t that what they do for sons in America? People name the baby boys after their father? He can be little Jinnie Jr. right?” Hyunjin asked, his eyes twinkling as he looked down at you. His arms were wrapped protectively around you as you rode the elevator up to the right floor, and as cute and innocent as he looked right now, you couldn’t help but be a little suspicious. 

“Hmm… A son? Are we having a boy?” His lips were drawn in, turning into a thin line and you could read the guiltiness on his face. He nodded his head slowly, clearly trying to read your reaction after having basically spoiled the surprise. “You just couldn’t wait to find out, could you?” You teased, and he let out a little sigh of relief when he realized that you weren’t angry. How could you be angry though? He wanted to know and you weren’t going to get mad at him for finding out. 

“Maybe we can do like… A baby shower, and a surprise gender reveal for everyone else!” He proposed the idea, and he sounded so excited, there was no way that you could turn him down, plus it sounded like fun. “The guys really want to know whether they’re getting a niece or a nephew, they’re gonna be so happy to find out!” He had been talking so loudly on the elevator, but once the doors slid open, his voice dropped to a whisper, his lips lingering right beside your ear. “This is our secret though, don’t tell them.” 

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[tacticaldiary]

hi hello, if you have the chance, could u write a ghost x reader of an overworked/ burnt out reader who faints or something. just stressed out overprotective ghost to warm our hearts <3

thank you so much xxx

Bone Tired

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort ; Fluff

Ghost knows she's been pushing herself but he didn't think it was this bad. She nearly gives him a goddamn heart attack by collapsing right in front of him.

"Don't make me tie you to the bed."

"Jokes on you, I'm into that." She snickers at the long-suffering sigh he lets out.

Masterlist

Just because they weren't deployed on a mission didn't mean things were any less busy for them back at base. Drills, morning runs, training, paperwork, and more; there was always something to keep them busy.

"Focus." The low timber of his voice snaps her out of her thoughts, dragging her back to the present. "I would've incapacitated you three times by now." Ghost says with a frown. Or at least she thinks he's frowning under that mask. He sure sounds like it.

"Yeah, sorry L.T." She blinks, widening her stance and dragging her tired mind to attention. Everything just felt...off. Her clothes were too itchy, the bright fluorescent lights hanging from the room were too prickly, and the training mat under her feet felt difficult to get her footing into. Maybe she was catching a bug? She'd been feeling mildly feverish the past few days, after all, sporting a headache she opted to power through with painkillers.

Grunts and groans and jeers echo around them as others take their turn to spar with each other. She'd already lost against Gaz once, a rare outcome in itself, and now she was pretty sure Ghost was going easy on her. She's surprised she isn't face-first on the mat right now, actually.

Blinking away the knowledge that her arms feel like lead and her mind foggy, she lunges at him with her fist, an attack easily parried and side stepped by the man.

In all honestly, she's known for a while that she needed a proper break. A few days to herself full of nothing. The last op she'd been on had been long and gruelling, a solo one at that, weeks' worth of trekking through a mountain range far south in the cold to get to an isolated camp where their target had been laying low. It was a success, but she swears she can still feel the snow bite into her flesh if she thinks too hard about it.

The moment she'd got back there had been debriefings with Price to attend, files to be reported to Laswell, all the while keeping up with her usual routine and drills...

Her eyes widen as she's spun around, an arm circling her throat and pinning her in a hold.

"You're sloppy." Ghost clicks his tongue from behind her, and if she were any less exhausted, maybe she would have felt a shiver go down her spine.

Here, they were just soldiers, but in private? That's a whole other story. Their relationship had to be kept under wraps for a multitude of reasons, but Simon was one of the best things that had ever happened to her. Having someone who understood her work, who shared the experience and knew exactly what she was talking about, who knew the best ways to comfort and listen and advise her...it was rare.

A rare and beautiful thing, that's what they had. They helped each other grow, made up for the others weaknesses and blind spots.

But they weren't in private right now, so after she taps his arm to concede, he pushes her away, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Are you ill?" He asks tightly, eyes going up and down her body as if he could detect whatever was making her pause. She'd seemed fine the last time he saw her, but clearly something was wrong if she was this...dazed?

She shakes her head. "Just didn't sleep well last night." She lies through her teeth. She couldn't afford to be sick right now, couldn't afford the luxury of wasting time resting. She still had to report to Laswell, attend a meeting on what the next steps were to reach their targets close contacts. Then she promised Soap she'd hit the shooting range with him, and then Gaz asked her to help him with that paperwork he had to fill out...

Taking a step back, she stumbles a little.

It all bubbles up inside her, overwhelming and insurmountable, a mountain of work that keeps piling up to reach new heights and-

Was Ghost talking? She blinks, trying to get the ringing out of her ears. It was loud and annoying, and it made the headache she'd been sporting since yesterday stronger.

Ghost's eyes widen. He's definitely saying something. She hopes Simon knows she wasn't ignoring her on purpose. She was always good at reading him, so maybe if her vision would stop spotting and focus, she could actually see his eyes properly and figure out what was wrong.

In the end, the roaring in her ears becomes deafening, to the point where she squeezes her eyes shut. How easy would it be to just...stay like this. Just for one moment. To revel in the nothingness of the dark, where she got just one second of silence away from the list of things she had to keep doing.

Just one more moment.

Another step back, an unsteady sway.

She hits the ground hard, the last thing she hears being the yell of her name from that familiar, rough voice.

                                  · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Bleary eyes blink themselves awake, squinting against the warm glow of the lamp by her bedside table. Groaning, she attempts to sit up, only to widen her eyes in alarm when a hand firmly pushes her back.

Instincts kicking in, her hand flies up to latch onto the wrist in a weak grip.

"It's just me." The low voice has her relaxes instantly, hand falling away onto the bed.

"Simon." She says, surprised when her voice doesn't come out as more than a whisper. "Where...what happened?" She winces at the throbbing in her head as she takes in the scene. Simon settled down in a chair next to her, a book laying open faced on her side table.

"You passed out." He says, plainly worried. "The medics said you fainted from exhaustion. Ain't that something to explain, love?" Now that he's ditched the mask, she can see the creases of worry in his forehead, the downwards quirk of his lips. "Damn near gave me a heart attack."

"Passed out?" She echoes, trying to remember. "I...guess I did."

She sure feels like it. Her body feels like lead, as if it's doing everything it can to ensure she stays in bed. Shivering slightly, she looks around for another blanket. When she reaches for the fluffy duvet folded at the foot of her bed, it's immediately snatched out of reach by Simon.

"Give it." She demands, reaching a hand out.

"You have a fever." Simon shakes his head, holding the item out of reach. "It'll break quicker this way."

"I'm fine." She protests, managing to sit up this time under his unimpressed stare. "I'm alright, Simon. Can't afford to be sick right now."

"That's not how it works." He sighs, standing up. "I thought I'd hurt you for a moment." She watches him walk towards the small table near the opposite wall, fiddling with something there while he talked. "Damn near took a year of my life away with how you crumpled onto the mat."

"It wasn't you." She assures him quickly. Some of the tension visibly drains from his shoulder in what she can only assume is relief. Needless as it is, she feels a little guilty. How long had he been thinking her passing out had been his fault? No, this was on her, on her busy schedule and-

Wait, what time was it?

Dread curls up in her gut as she slowly turns towards the small window. The lamp was on when she woke up, of course it was night.

"I was just tired is all." She says, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "But I'm as fresh as a daisy now, and I've got so much shit to do." She lets out an anxious, long breath as her brain kicks in, charting how much time she'd lost, how quickly she'd need to work to get it all done-

"I have that meeting with Laswell...I wonder if Price thinks I just didn't show up to his office..." She doesn't realise she's been muttering her thoughts aloud until Ghost cuts her off.

"You're not going anywhere, sweetheart." He declares over his shoulder. "Get your ass back in bed."

"I can't, there's too much I have to do today." She protests. "And I've already lost half the day-"

"I wasn't asking."

"Simon-" He turns around and she finally sees what he's been doing.

"Don't make me tie you to the bed." His threat is much less effective when he's holding one of her mugs that says 'Bad Bitch' in obnoxious neon pink calligraphy, the phrase surrounded by a flowery border. She'd got it for him as a gag gift for his last birthday and had cackled at the dead, unimpressed stare he fixed her with. It had remained in his room for a while before she'd snatched it, claiming she'd actually appreciate it.

"Jokes on you, I'm into that." She snickers at the long-suffering sigh he lets out. Her laughs morph into a deep chest-rattling cough that wipes the smile off her face and leaves her wincing.

Sitting next to her after tossing the pillow onto the mattress, he brings the warm mug of tea up to her. "Easy does it." He mutters quietly when she grabs it from him and takes a drink.

"Thank you." She sighs, handing it back.

"Talk to me." He orders, not unkindly. Simon wasn't someone who was all lovey-dovey, but he loved just as hard and much as the next person. Just because he didn't choose to flourish it with pretty words and smiles doesn't mean she felt any less cared for.

He was a man of action, through and through.

Little touches throughout the day, silent glances checking in with her. Staying by her side during missions, working in tandem and recognising when she needed space versus when she needed him near.

He was her other half, and it had been eating away at him that he didn't fucking realise she was this unwell until the consequences caught up with her.

Ghost won't admit the primal flash of fear that struck through him when she'd crumpled to the ground like that. He thought he'd hurt her while sparring, that he'd done something to make her pass out like that. Even after the medics cleared her and he carried her here, tucked her in and everything, there was still a nagging worry of 'what-if' in his mind.

The relief of hearing her confirm it wasn't him was tainted by the knowledge that he hadn't noticed her pushing herself.

After a moment of deliberation, she gives in, tucking herself back into bed and thinking for a moment. She tells him everything, tells him how she hasn't had a second to herself in these past few days, telling him about the load she has on her shoulders and the crushing time limit ticking down in her ears for every task she had.

He listens quietly, to his credit, doesn't interrupt her even when she trails off, having to muster up the energy to keep going.

The fact that talking tired her out to this degree made his heart twist uncomfortably.

"I didn't think I had a choice but to take it all head on." She finishes, stifling a yawn. She looks up at him for his response when he doesn't talk, finds him staring at her with a half-lidded gaze, a furrow in his brow.

"Why didn't you ask me?"

"Ask you what?" She asks, confused.

"For help."

That was...a good question. It takes her a second to come up with a sheepish answer. "I...I didn't think of that." She admits, drawing out another quiet sigh from him.

"You're going to be the death of me." He grumbles, but she can't complain when he's gently tugging her to the side and climbing in with her under the covers. "I've sorted things out with Price and Laswell. Do whatever else you need to when you're capable of not face planting into the mats again."

A warm feeling of gratitude washes over her, her heart warming with the kind gesture. It was so...it was so Simon.

When he tangles their legs together and tucks her into his side, she wrinkles her nose. "I'm all sweaty." She tries to argue, tapping at his shoulder half-heartedly when he lays down with her, a strong arm around her waist pulling her in.

"I've had your blood on my hands before, I don't think sweat is going to be a problem." She can hear his voice rumble low in his chest, right under where he head rests, and she hides a smile in the fabric of his shirt.

When he runs a hand through her hair, she practically melts against him.

Eventually, her shivering stops, replaced with a bone-deep warmth that nothing could chase away. Simon. The warmth of him, of his care, of his love. She'd take it over a heatpack any day.

His arms around her make her relax. Nothing would nag at her, drag her away to chain her to a desk under Simon's watch, that much she knows. Safe. Protected. The feeling was rare living the life she did with her job, but Simon made it so easy to believe that she was untouchable as long as she was with him.

Before she knows it, her eyes flutter shut and her breathing evens out, because goddamn did the bastard know exactly where and how to touch her to get her all sleepy and relaxed.

"Thank you." She mumbles against him, words half incoherent.

"Always, love." He rumbles back, brushing his lips over her head.

Requests Are Open! Reblog, Like and Comment!

(16/07/2023)

[alieinthemorning]

Low Temperatures [Sylus]

Content: Fluff, Established Relationship, Sick Character, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert

Pronouns: None

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

“Why is it so cold in here?” The moment your bare feet grazed the marble floor of Sylus’ room, a sharp chill ran up and down your body.

“Did you know that you should sleep with the room temperature at between sixty and seventy-two degrees?”

“So fucking freezing and freezing?” You padded your way over to the thermostat, turning it up to 75. “Don’t touch it.”

“It’s my thermostat.” You rolled your eyes at Sylus’ pout, heading over to the bed. 

“Well now it’s our thermostat since I’m sleeping in here tonight.” Throwing the covers back, you flopped down.

You should have known simple words wouldn’t have stopped Sylus. You should have walked out the moment he brought up that cold ass “correct” temperature bullshit. All you wanted was sleep, a quick rest, a simple rest of the eyes. But now here you were, cold, cranky, and cuddled up against the culprit. 

“Why is it so fucking cold?” Your voice was rough, you sure were sick. 

“It feels quite comfortable to me.” Despite being burrowed deep in the covers, you could hear the smug smile. “You were holding onto me so tightly…am I to assume it was because you were cold and nothing else?”

“Shut up—” Your words became a wet, garbbed mess of coughs. 

You felt Sylus shift closer. “Are you seriously sick?”

“Did you seriously touch my shit when I told you not to?” Another string of harsh coughs. 

Silence blanketed the room, for once he had nothing to say. You untangled yourself from the blankets, making your way to the thermostat. You could feel Sylus’ gaze on your back, but you ignored it. 

It was at 62 degrees. 

You headed for the door.

He didn’t try to stop you. 

You hated being sick. You hated being away from home, and sick. You especially hated being away from home, sick and living under the same roof as the person who made you sick as a fucking gotcha (or whatever). 

“Man, you’re weak.” 

“Yeah, sixty-two degrees isn’t even all that cold.”

“Get out.” 

You were not in the mood for Luke and Kieran shenanigans because if they were gonna shenan once, they would shenan again.

“No can do.”

“The boss gave us explicit orders to watch over you.” 

You groaned (mistake, turned in another bad cough), and rolled your eyes. “Then watch me quietly. I want to sleep.”

“But you’ve been doing nothing but sleeping this entire time.” Kieran pointed. 

“And that’s boring.” Luke agreed with a nod. 

“Yeah, we should—”

A ping cleared the air, cutting Kieran off. Luke slipped his phone from his pocket, glancing at the message. 

“It’s boss. He wants to see us.” 

“Really? I thought we had the day off.”

“Good, hurry up and don’t come back.” You would have physically pushed them out, but your body was aching, so you hoped a fierce glare was enough to get them moving. 

It wasn’t. They took their sweet ass time leaving your room, but at least they were nice (see: being a nuisance) enough to turn the lights off as they left. 

Finally, peace and quiet. Well, peace, quiet and pain. But with a commentary video on in the background, you were able to lull yourself to sleep. 

The next few days went by slowly, and uneventful. The twins never came back after Sylus had called for them. You were both grateful and a bit annoyed (you would have liked to have a bit of entertainment as you were getting better). Then you were fully recovered, and the twins still hadn’t reared their masked heads. You rolled your eyes, turning on your heel and headed for the reason why.

Entering the room, you immediately beelined it for the thermostat.

It was set to 75 degrees. 

You headed for the bed.

He didn’t try to stop you nor move from his spot.

You snuggle into the bed, happy with the comfort that surrounded you. You were content with the silence, not really expecting him to speak to you, and you weren’t willing to extend the olive branch. But then he spoke,

“I’m sorry.” He sighed, as his book clapped shut. “For disregarding your words, and getting you sick.” 

You let the apology settle in the air for a moment before responding. “I don’t like that you did that—I’ve got a weak constitution.” You paused, toying with your bottom lip. “...but I should have told you that before just changing something and expecting you not to change it back. So I’m sorry too.”

“Now that we’ve both gotten the apologies out of the way,” You felt him lean over you, “Will you return to the bedroom?”  

“Oh? Was someone lonely without me?”

His lips grazed your ear. “Of course I was.”

“Oh.” You shuddered. “What should we do about our loneliness then?”

“I can think of a few things.”

For the first time ever

NSFW Continuation

Everyone thank my friend and Sylus for this.

Ko-Fi | Commission | Masterlist

[unfortunatebrainfarts]

Cussing out anyone and everyone is fun until you get lasso'd out of bed to do it on behalf of your casual space cowboy co-worker who for some reason knows where you live

Boothill x f!reader

A/n: soort of part 2 to my previous work but can be read seperately‼️

"For the last time — let me go before I literally unscrew your dick off."

"Psh, as if ya got the balls for that lil' missy."

You don't even have to look at Boothill to know he was immensely enjoying himself right now — hell you couldn't even if you wanted to since you were currently getting dragged through the ice cold floors of wherever the hell you were, with a fucking lasso firmly binding your legs and arms.

"It's like 5 a.m. in the morning, what the hell could you even want at this god forsaken hour?!" You righteously grumble, but alas, you were met with nothing more than silence probably because you've asked similar questions before. Yes. This has happened before. Many times before.

For Boothill, tracking down enemies and pinning them down was great. Not being able to curse them out and instead calling them a 'cutie' and blessing their soul? Not so great. But that's where you come in! His lovely fellow galaxy ranger who's been with him long enough to know what he wants to say, and is far too weak(compared to this baby shark looking freak of a cyborg) to refute him. Physically that is — you always make sure that you complain his ear off to at least ensure some sort of mental damage.

"Hey! If you're going to take me somewhere could you at least not drag me all the way there? Ugh these floors are so cold I feel like I'm gonna get hypothermia. If I do and I sue you, don't you have to pay me compensation for that? I'm expecting at least a million credits or so cause I don't think Lan provides health insurance for the galaxy rangers—"

Your pitiable monologue was abrubtly cut short by Boothill firmly gripping the rope which binded you and roughly jerking it upwards so that your body would fall limp directly on his shoulder like a giant worm, your head just centimeters away from his.

Of course to which you responded with automatic aggressive squirming and wiggling only making you look more and more like a worm. But honestly who could blame you? I mean, who just DOES THAT and expects the other party to be calmly subdued?!

"Oh sugar honey iced tea, could ya quit strugglin' for just one moment—" A large, metalic hand was promptly placed around your waist and no amount of wiggling could even get it to so much as budge. "Now that y'r off the darn floor ain'it 'bout time ya shut yer trap? Heh... we're almost there."

Now that you were head to head with Boothill, although not in the most favorable position, you could see his face now — his face with probably the most shit eating grin you have ever seen on it. His sharp teeth making themselves apparent, and unwavering eyes focused on just whatever lied ahead.

And then his feet stood still.

"THERE," he shouted unrestraintedly like a madman, while pointing his free hand at... a random lady in purple?

Without warning, Boothill launched himself forward stopping only inches away from the woman who looked just as confused as you.

"Now, go tell 'er that she's a wonderful ray of sunshine that deserves absoloutely nothin' but the best. Oh Acheron, bless your soul ya lovely imposter, be prepared to go on a playdate and have some teatime with me soon! Until then, you should keep yourself safe."

The sheer passion that Boothill had in his tone made it clear that he had a message to get across. Though you don't think the other woman, or supposedly Acheron, understood a word he said. You exasperatedly sigh, you felt just as bad for this lady as you did for you yourself.

"Well?! What'cha waitin' for," the arm around you tightened just enough for a squeak to involuntarily come out of you and you knew you weren't getting out of this.

You mentally apologise for this poor lady before translating his thoughts into words, "Er... what he means to say is uhm, 'you're a disgusting piece of shit who deserves to die seven times over by my hand. Oh Acheron, you absoloute dumbass fucking imposter, be prepared to meet me and face me off in a showdown soon, but you might as well just kill yourself before that."

"...," Acheron's face remained unchanging and blank throughout the whole spiel, Boothill's however, was characteristicly smug and maniacal.

To others, the three of you looked as if you were frozen in time for at least a minute or so, until Acheron simply tilted her head and monotonously responded,

"Sorry, who are you?"

[httpkaulitz]

high enough

PAIRINGS: Vampire!Bill x Female reader

CONTENT: Smut

SYNOPSIS: Bill is a little addicted to you.

WARNINGS: mention of addiction, mention of blood and bite, manipulation, fingering, oral (f receiving)

You met Bill by chance, after another day of work you were coming home and literally bumped into him. Staggering and somewhat disoriented, he didn't know where he was.

Against all your thoughts of self-preservation you took him home and took care of him.

When Bill told you he was a vampire, you thought he was crazy and when he showed you what he was you strangely remained calm. Somehow you felt like he wouldn't hurt you. And he never did.

All the blood he had from you was given to him willingly. You wanted to help him and so you did.

And it was by wanting to help him that you ended up in this situation.

"What do you want?" Bill asked impatiently.

"What I want?" You repeated, looking at yourself in the mirror. "Nothing. I'm happy."

He let out a frustrated groan before taking a deep breath. You watched him straighten up, though the action was considerably less intimidating. His bleached blonde hair was disheveled and tangled with a light sweat on his forehead.

"Damn it." You observed. “you’re worse than an addicted.”

“Brilliant deduction! Do you want a fucking medal?” You raised an eyebrow.

Bill slapped his face, rubbing his stubble tiredly.

“Can’t you just help me?” He was always ready to dramatize, you already knew his tactics. You turned to him.

“We have already had this discussion. No." You said firmly.

"I can give you-." He started to speak but you interrupted him before he could even continue his speech about how good he could be and give you expensive things that you never had. You've been through this before.

"Nothing." You interrupted, crossing your arms. “I don't want anything from you, Bill. I like my life. I like my boyfriend. I like my job. There is nothing I want from you that can change my mind. Plus, I’m pretty sure I can think of a handful of humans who would be more than willing…”

“I DON’T WANT ANY IDIOTS OFF THE STREET!” His jaw was tense. If he applied more force, you'd think he might break his molars. “I want your blood. Yours. Do I need to spell this out for you?”

He approached you, brown eyes glaring at you.

"Please." His voice was almost pleading.

Inhaling silently, you studied him with half-closed eyes.

A second later and you shook your head.

“There is nothing special about my blood. You're being needy because I was there for you when no one else was. It was my mistake. I won't let that happen again.”

Before he could lift a finger, your arm flew forward. Either he was too weak to fight back or he wasn't even trying. Whatever the reasoning, you were easily able to make him fall back into a chair.

He didn't seem surprised by the gesture, nor did he try to fight it.

“I’m going to meet my boyfriend.” You said approaching him. “When I come back, you will be gone.”

“Liebe.” He whispered with furrowed brows and doe eyes.

“Bill, stop. You're better than that." You paused, grimacing. “I'm serious, control yourself.”

His head fell back and despite your better judgment, you went to his side. The last thing you needed was a drugged-out vampire in your apartment.

The moment one of your hands wrapped around the back of his head, Bill grabbed your wrist.

The pressure was gentle but sticky. His reddish brown eyes tried to mask a poorly concealed despair. Both pupils were dilated.

"You know." He drawled, bringing the back of your hand to his cheek. "You're my favorite human."

“I’m not yours.” You corrected, unable to not find his attention somewhat amusing.

“Oh, but you are.” He snapped and you rolled your eyes, the stubble rubbing against the skin of your hand like sandpaper. “It means your blood is very special. You are my special human. I don’t want anyone’s blood but yours.”

He continued stroking your hand. You found it slightly disturbing and strangely adorable.

“Quick fix.” He whimpered softly, pulling your fingers up to his lips as he blinked rapidly. “Just a taste will be enough for me. I won’t bother you again after this.”

You let out a pained gasp, your thumb thoughtlessly brushing his upper lip. He responded by kissing the tip of your thumb.

“I won't do it again. This is the last time, okay?” You always said that and you both pretended to believe it. The truth is, you couldn't say no to him even if you tried.

"Sure." He agreed, releasing your hand. "Last time."

                      ✮✮✮✮✮✮✮

“Oh, Jesus, not again.” You exclaimed impatiently.

This time, he was lying in your bed, with the sheets piled up beside him. Your comforter was thrown somewhere on the floor.

“Liebe.” He greeted you lazily. Despite knowing his name, he never used it. Always using some German word that you didn't know what it meant. “I'm glad you're here. Would you mind giving me some liquid?”

You shook your head in disbelief.

"Unless you want me to piss in your mouth, I suggest you get out of here." You responded sarcastically without patience.

“Piss in my mouth?” He repeated slowly. Without warning, he burst into laughter, fingers gripping the sheets in delight.

You made a mental note to change them after he left.

“I’m an eccentric bastard, but not that eccentric.” He said. “You said last time that you wouldn't donate again, but you don't understand. You don't understand the euphoria you give me. It’s… I imagine it’s magical.”

''I'm sure you can live without it.'' Spinning around, you quickly rid yourself of the shirt, tossing it onto a nearby chair. You took a deep breath, arms reaching for the ceiling. The position was maintained until you felt the pleasant burning in your muscles.

"But I do not want." He says thoughtfully.

“That doesn’t surprise me.” You mumbled, taking off your jeans.

He didn't respond to your joke. Instead, he got up from the bed. Not that you heard or noticed it.

Until you felt the unexpected pressure of two warm hands resting on your hips.

“Bill.” You warned, looking at him over your shoulder.

"Hmm?" He hummed, shamelessly pressing into you.

“Get off me.” You whispered seriously hoping he would respect your request.

"I don't want." His grip tightened. You tried to ignore his hardened length digging teasingly against your ass.

“I heard a rumor that you’re not happy with your little toy.” He whispered in your ear huskily. You were so shocked by his boldness that you ignored how your skin crawled.

"You don't have ri-."

"It is not?" Bill asked with a raised eyebrow. “I keep tabs on my favorite human.”

You weren’t sure if he was serious or bluffing.

“So, you have romance, flowers, blah, blah, etc.” He listed, two fingers slipping under the band of your panties but not going any further. “But when it comes to being naughty, he falls a little… boring.”

A calloused hand brushed against your ribcage, nails grazing the skin experimentally. Involuntarily, your breathing became shallow.

“A little sexually frustrated, aren’t you?” He continued.

You were ready to lift a heel and tap his toes when, without warning, he grabbed one of your breasts, smirking when you shivered.

“I could do anything you wanted.” He suggested, brushing the outline of your hard nipple with his thumb. “I could be a good boy for you, if you want. I could easily spend hours paying attention to your pretty pussy, you know. I spent a beautiful day or two thinking about it.”

His breath sent a wave of goosebumps across your shoulder.

“Playing with your clit. Sucking it. Making you all nervous. Always giving. I don't have to worry about my own needs. I’ll put my tongue to good use, ma’am.”

Your hips moved forward as the two previously inactive fingers slid across the opening, not penetrating but brushing the sensitive wetness with tantalizing intent.

Protesting the action would have been counterproductive. Despite Bill's irritating nature of manipulating and being a general jerk, his words were leaving you embarrassingly wet.

And that was what was confusing you.

“You are a pathetic addicted.” You tried to sound angry, but your voice came out shaky.

You felt his shrug before he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“You are my conflicted and sexually frustrated supplier. I don’t think we need to point fingers” He said amused.

Biting your lip, you forced yourself not to think about the hand massaging your breast or the two fingers caressing your pussy.

It was a trickery. The word alone made an unpleasant feeling of guilt in your stomach. Your boyfriend was a nice guy. Better than you dated in a long time. He treated you with a respect that's hard to find these days.

So, the sex wasn't the best. Was it really worth throwing away months of a well-paced relationship just for a few seconds of mindless pleasure? Especially with Bill, of all people!

You may not be the best person in the world, but you tried to be good.

On the other hand, befriending him wasn't exactly a step in that direction.

“Mistress?” He was gone. There was no longer Bill in that tone.

You would have found his submission more comical if it hadn't worried you so much. And it intrigued you more than anything.

“I’ll be a good boy, I promise.” He insisted. “Our little secret. Fair deal, I guess. In fact, I'll give you a free sample.”

Unexpectedly, he removed both of his hands and moved away from you. The disappointment you felt at the loss of contact was not something you wanted to reflect on.

You saw him kneel before you, his eyes wide but focused. More focused than you usually witnessed when he craved your blood.

"Come here." He gestured.

When you stayed still, he snorted softly. With a few quick movements, he knelt so he was eye level with your hips.

You knew what he was about to do. This, perhaps, was the worst part. You knew and you felt…excited. Relieved, even. For the first time in months, you were about to receive as much as you gave. Appropriately.

It was selfish and terrible, but equally thrilling and exciting.

“Open your legs a little for me, baby.” You did as he said, teeth firmly gripping your bottom lip.

"My God, you've been a lecherous young lady, haven't you?" Bill smiled, hands steadying himself on your hips.

"Shut up." You mumbled, ignoring his embarrassment.

"Yes ma'am." His fingers hooked into the elastic and slowly slid your panties down. The entire time, his tongue was stuck between his teeth while his eyes never left your pussy.

You took off your panties, almost shaking with excitement when he threw them over his shoulder.

“Hmm.” He marveled, tilting his head. "I was right. Beautiful."

The compliment made you not only blush but also become slightly irritated. Were your priorities really that far off?

That depressing thought spurred your next action.

Quickly, a hand grabbed Bill's hair by the roots. With a push, you pulled back, ensuring his eyes locked with yours.

“If you want my blood, you work for it. Got it?" You didn't even realize you had a dominant streak until Bill's obedient nod made you smile. “If I don't reach my high, you certainly won't reach yours.”

"Yes ma'am." He responded obediently. No sign of sarcasm or mockery.

You looked at him for a second longer and let go of his hair. Bill wasted no time.

It didn't take more than five minutes for you to cum. Whether this was a result of not having pleasure for so long or Bill's genuine talent, you weren't sure.

What you could be sure of, when a hand found his hair again and kept his tongue and lips attached to your clit, was that you were entirely willing to make that bargain again.

                     ✮✮✮✮✮✮✮

This arrangement lasted a solid month. Which surprised you. You thought the moral of exchanging blood for sexual acts would disgust you. At least enough to present a bigger argument the next time Bill showed up again. But that wasn't the case.

The next meeting was certainly a little awkward. You came home from your shift and found him sitting patiently on your bed. He didn't say anything. He just watched you as you tiredly took off your clothes. His submission was strange but attractive. It wasn't until you were blessed with a quiet Bill that you realized how much you appreciated him.

"How are you doing?"

It was strange, but you couldn't help but ask. Bill may have been an addicted and willing to do anything to get what you wanted, but he was still a living creature beneath that stupid desperation. Completely degrading him brought you no pleasure and wasn't something you felt completely comfortable doing.

“You won’t hurt me.” Bill complained. “I'm a big boy. Do your worst."

“Do you want a safe word?” Yet you asked.

“Unless you have plans to kill me, I really don’t see the point.” That was the last discussion about a safe word or words in general.

Bill came three times a week, sometimes four. Always when you were alone. His snark, thankfully, wasn’t present and he did everything you requested of him.

At first, you were careful about boundaries. The first week was spent mostly in your bed, with Bill buried between your thighs. He was surprisingly energetic, licking and sucking you like a hungry animal. His fingers were excited too, starting to pinch your clit and moving in and out of you at deliciously insane speeds.

No orgasms were faked, and if you were taking a while to cum, Bill worked with impressive voracity to ensure you reached your high.

That's what made you bolder.

In the second week, you ordered him to touch himself.

"What?" He asked confused.

"I want you to touch yourself." He studied you with half-closed eyes.

"You understand this isn't about my pleasure, right?"

"Yes. It's about mine. Drop your pants, sit on the chair and touch yourself.” Your voice didn't even tremble.

His confusion was evident, but he did as you asked.

As you guessed, watching him masturbate was a deeply satisfying sight. On some level, you wanted him to feel pleasure from this arrangement, but that had more to do with fascination. Fascination with being able to make someone bigger and stronger take off his underwear, sit down, spread his legs, wrap his hand around his generously sized cock and slowly start stroking himself. In front of you. Simply because you ordered it.

The control was intoxicating.

You didn’t ask him to do anything else after he climaxed with a strangled moan. And it was one of the first times you realized that Bill had no idea what your game was. Or at least why you were enjoying watching him cum.

The rest of the month followed roughly the same schedule. You would give him an order and after a brief but curious glance in his direction, Bill would obey.

Many of the commands required you to cum. At you request, Bill got into the habit of bringing a vibrator. Which he used on you very well.

Some days the commands were to get him out. You were creative and it was never the same way. True, he always touched himself, but sometimes it was kneeling on the bed or bending over a chair so you could admire his cute ass. Once, you even deprived him of his vision with a scarf, taking advantage of the slight uncertainty his hand felt when caressing himself.

By the four week, you were comfortable enough to ride his persistent tongue into pleasure without an ounce of shame or embarrassment.

On the days Bill didn't show up, you questioned what you were doing with him. In public and surrounded by friends, you were passive and sociable. On nights when the two of you were alone, you were loose and experiencing some serious dominance kink.

For a long time, you were puzzled and faintly appalled by your actions.

Then one night, it hit you.

When would you ever get that kind of sexual freedom again? That ability to explore what made your toes curl and grip the headboard until your mind went blank and your voice hoarse.

Nights with Bill made you feel liberated. They made you feel like a woman. The vampire never judged you, although in the end he received your blood, so that was his triumph.

Regardless, the ability to delve deeper into your sexuality and learn the new ways your body responded to stimulation was one of the biggest reasons you never withheld your blood from Bill.

If there was any guilt you held onto, it was because Bill did the things you asked for your blood, nothing more. It would have been nice if his actions were genuine. But he was an addicted, you reminded yourself.

This, when you looked back on the whole fiasco, was ultimately where you made an error in judgment. Assuming Bill regarded your meetings as nothing but a necessary task in order to gain the true source of pleasure: your blood.

In fact, you were completely unaware that after only two weeks together, he’d completely kicked his blood habit.

And that he was testing you.

It wasn’t until the month was complete that you found out why.

                         ✮✮✮✮✮✮✮

He wasn't sitting on the bed this time.

Instead, he was standing tall and physically looked immaculate. Hair combed, beard trimmed and he looked at you differently.

The moment you absorbed all these changes, you felt a distinct shift in power.

It was definitely not in your hands anymore.

“You look healthy.” You greeted. “Who finally got to talk you out of it?”

A part of you couldn't deny that you were a little disappointed. You sessions would probably come to an end. And the Bill before you certainly didn't look like he was taking orders.

But you weren't selfish enough to deny feeling genuine happiness that he was no longer an addicted. No one deserved to be a victim of this desire. Of course, he will always have to live with the desire to drink blood, but now in a controlled way.

“That’d be you, darling.” He revealed. “Put plenty of things in perspective for me.”

"Good." You encouraged, offering him a soft smile.

He continued watching you without blinking.

“See yourself in the mirror lately?” He asked.

Immediately, a hand patted your hair.

“Did a bird shit on my head again?” You walked over to the mirror, fingers examining you head.

Bill appeared behind you and stopped your search by grabbing your wrist.

You looked at him.

“Skin doesn’t have the vibrant glow it normally has.” He whispered calmly.

Eyebrows furrowed, you looked at yourself in the mirror.

Wow. How did you miss that?

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered.” He continued. “Always giving me the amount of blood I ask for is not an easy task. Or a healthy one. But I can’t allow you to get hurt.”

You nodded absently. Your brain became more fuzzy at the consideration Bill was giving you.

"Why are you being nice?" You asked, looking at him warily.

“Like I said… I got a little perspective on things.” He replied.

“Do I need to be worried?” You asked apprehensively.

"Hardly. Not only have you fulfilled my needs, but you did so discretely. As an added bonus, you even made personal sacrifices. That right there... that's the way to a man's heart."

“I think you’re overestimating my worth.” You pulled your hand away. The conversation starting to make you uncomfortable.

“Honey, you’re underestimating yourself. Let me explain what happened last month to you. I was vulnerable, needy and weak. Instead of making a name for yourself - which I'm beginning to doubt even crossed your mind - and taking advantage of me, you quietly gave me my fix. With me so far?”

“Anyone would have done it.” You knew this was a lie the moment it passed your lips.

“Mm… I’m afraid not, liebe. I don’t find that kind of loyalty.” You weren’t sure if you should feel flattered or flustered.

“Now, this is where it gets interesting. After I got my addiction under control, I couldn't help but wonder why you were helping me. So selflessly, in fact.”

“I got off on telling you what to do.” You defended.

“No, I understand that part. But you started making small sacrifices.” Swallowing hard, you took a step back.

"Like what?" You asked confused.

"Well, like breaking up with your little toy, for example." Bill hummed in amusement.

“He didn’t deserve to be betrayed. It had nothing to do with you.” Bill smiled at that.

“If it weren't for my mouth on your pussy three times a week, you never would have let the poor guy go. I had a little input into that.” Something inside you twitched with discomfort and pleasure.

“So, as we saw, you neglected your appearance a little. You didn't even realize how much blood I was taking from you. And yet, you continued to give.” Taking a careful breath, you tried to get your thoughts in order.

"You deserved to get what came to me for." It seemed like a lame excuse, despite its veracity.

“And that’s the fun part!” Bill exclaimed. “This whole time you were under the impression that I hated it. I hated making you cum, I hated cumming while you watched, I hated the total attention you gave me. I'm not sure if you've heard, but I have a bit of an ego. And you caressed it until I was weak in the knees. You had so much control in your hands and had the courtesy to worry about my own pleasure. Not very mistressy of you, liebe.”

“If you were so confused about it, then why the hell didn’t you stop?” You retorted. “If you didn’t like me not playing my role, you should have stopped playing yours.”

“Ah, but I liked my role.” He assured, eyes slowly scanning your body. “In fact, if you knew how much I enjoyed it, you would be more worried about disappearing so I could never find you.”

"Are you-?" Your voice died in the middle of your throat.

“Ah, I left my favorite human speechless. Well, let’s see if I can remedy that.” Before you could blink everything went dark.

When you woke up you were in a huge room with incredibly expensive furniture. The place was well lit and looked very modern, you could see some paintings on the walls around it. The tables held a variety of food and drinks. Some, you noticed, were among your favorites.

Your mouth officially dropped open when you noticed it was king size and the sheets were brown. Also expensive, it seems. Above that, your eyes sharpened on the silk ties tied provocatively to the headboard. That was certainly a vision that spoke for itself.

“I will not be your mistress!” You argued, quickly getting up from the bed.

“I prefer the term girlfriend.” He didn't move from his seat once.

This gave you the confidence to try to escape. You ran towards the door but it was locked.

“Nice trick, isn’t it?” Bill mentioned, pride coloring his voice. “I blocked your exit, my dear.”

“Bill let me go.” With a tight frown, you stared at him.

“I will give you anything you want.” He promised. “In the meantime, you might consider this vacation a little more…permanent.”

“You are imprisoning me!” You screamed, anger burning through your veins.

"Keeping." He corrected. “I'm keeping you. Considerable difference in terminology.”

You tried to regain control of your breathing, but your current situation didn't allow for that.

“I like you, liebe.” Bill stated seriously. “You are charming, adventurous, and deceptively thoughtful. More than that, you are trustworthy. And has a sexual appetite that rivals mine.”

“And you couldn’t have told me that without kidnapping me?”

"Keeping." He remembered. “What would you honestly have done if I told you I was pretending to be an addicted because I was more addicted to you? Which sounds as terribly sentimental out loud as it does in my head. Shame. I thought it would translate better.”

You backed away until the backs of your knees hit the bed. Tremblingly, you sat up, palms hitting the sheets beneath you.

“I was kidnapped-.”

“-kept-,” Bill said helpfully.

“-all because I was…nice.”

Bill shrugged. "Opposites attract?"

You lost consciousness right after you finished laughing. Rest assured, you found the situation more grim than hilarious.

Sighing, Bill walked over to your unconscious form. He sat up and gently picked you up so you rested against his chest.

The urge to smile and grimace fought violently within him.

“This could have been worse.” He confessed, looking at you.

He rested his chin on your head. The desire to smile won. He was happy.

[candycandy00]

Can you just do your general nsfw headcanons for the jjk men?

Sure! These are very unorganized though, sorry! Just my random NSFW opinions about them!

Gojo Satoru:

First of all, he’s very good at sex. It’s canon that he’s good at anything he tries so this is provable fact. He’s very tall so it’s likely that he’s well endowed. 

He has a huge ego, which can be good and bad. He’s confident in his performance in the bedroom because, well, of course he is. And confidence is definitely sexy. But at the same time, he’s going to be a bit too full of himself. This can get annoying. He’s going to know exactly how to push all your buttons and get you riled up, which is going to make him the worst tease in existence. 

All of this is why I think he would be kinda mean in the bedroom. A bit of an asshole. But a very charming one so good luck resisting him. He knows he’s gorgeous. He knows he can satisfy you better than anyone else. So he’s going to use that to his advantage. I see him being the type to get really turned on by making you beg. I also see him having just a little bit of a degradation kink. He’ll throw in some insults or mock you for being so desperate for his dick (don’t let him fool you, he wants you as bad as you want him but he’ll never let it show).  

The fastest way to turn him on is to stroke his ego. Telling him he’s too big, he won’t fit, it hurts, etc. while also still begging for it will absolutely send him to the moon. The thought that you want him in you so badly, even if it hurts, gets him riled up faster than anything else. And once he’s in there, letting him know how deep he’s hitting, how he’s stretching you, will drive him wild. 

He has one major weakness though. No matter how mean or taunting he can get, deep down, he’s actually a pretty nice guy overall and genuinely cares about you and your feelings. So if he thinks he took things even one step too far or actually hurt you for real (physically or emotionally), he would feel terrible. He would suddenly turn into the sweetest boyfriend ever, being super affectionate and gentle, until he felt sure that he was forgiven and things were cool between you two. 

As for his sexual history, I think he hooked up with a lot of people when he first got out of high school. I mean people were already throwing themselves at him when he was still pretty young, so what do you think a hot young man is going to do? But I think he slowed down a lot as he got a little older. The random hookups started to leave him feeling empty. He probably starting having them to begin with because he was lonely after his split from Geto. It was just an enjoyable way to not feel alone for a little while. But gradually, the loneliness crept in faster and faster. So he decided to stop hooking up until he met someone he could have an emotional connection to. 

Geto Suguru:

I feel like Geto would be a very generous lover. He would definitely prioritize your pleasure, getting most of his own through watching you become a shuddering mess beneath him. 

He’s extremely good at performing oral sex. His tongue would be amazing. And he enjoys it more than anything else. Expect to climax several times, in a row, each time the two of you are intimate. 

Outside the bedroom, he’s very respectful and kind to you. He’s raising two young daughters, he wants to show them how they should be treated by a partner. But this respect and care crosses over to the bedroom too. He makes sure you’re satisfied and well pleased. 

When it comes to pleasing him, his hair is practically an erogenous zone for him. Run your fingers through it to hear him purr like a cat. Grab it, pull it, play with it, whatever. He loves it. When he’s making love, he prefers extremely intimate, deep, deliberate motions. He likes to take things slow so the two of you can just enjoy the feel of each other’s bodies. 

Is a firm believer that sex isn’t just for physical pleasure, but is a way to be closer to the person you love. For that reason, he’s had way fewer sexual partners than someone like Gojo or Toji, but the encounters he’s had have been way more meaningful. 

Sukuna:

Do you really want to know what gets this guy off? 

DO YOU? 

No sugar coating here, Sukuna is a monster. He enjoys suffering. He loves hurting people. He probably doesn’t give a shit about his partner’s pleasure. Or their consent. Or keeping them alive. It’s stated in the series that he “lives according to his pleasure”. So I can’t see him holding back if he saw someone he wanted. In his first scene alone, he specifically mentions women twice. Once asking “Where are the people? Where are the women?”while grinning maniacally. I think it’s pretty clear what the implication was there. He also implies that he would do something unsavory to Nobara if he took control. This was probably just his way of being a menace to Yuji, but the fact that he implied it at all says a lot about him. 

So yeah, all this to say I think he had his way with a lot of women when he was alive, probably killing them afterwards (which would explain why he has no descendants).  

As for his kinks? Oh Lord, there’s probably a long list and they’re all probably nightmarish. He’s probably into pain/torture/blood/humiliation/degradation/etc.  Anything to be cruel. He’s a cannibal so he definitely wouldn’t mind drinking a little blood and would probably be into biting. He’s just the walking personification of all the worst porn categories. 

But! He is actually capable of treating someone well if he likes them. We see this in how he treats Uraume (laughing and joking with them, forgiving their mistakes, just generally being nice to them). And how did Uraume earn a place at Sukuna’s side? By providing a service that Sukuna valued (cooking tasty human meat). So if he were to meet someone who really blew his mind in the bedroom, it’s possible that he would value them enough to keep them around. 

If that were to happen, he’d probably be a lot less of a nightmare in bed. He’d still have his kinks, but he would actually want to keep you alive, so he would tone it down to keep from damaging you too much. I also think he would start pleasuring you on purpose if he cared about you. He would enjoy knowing he could drive you wild with just a touch. Like Gojo, he has a massive ego. He’s also narcissistic and domineering. So while he would still prioritize his own pleasure, he would definitely see the charm in watching you come completely undone only for him. He’d still be very forceful and very rough. 

Nanami Kento:

Didn’t know he had a daddy kink until you accidentally called him daddy in bed. At that moment, something snapped into place for him, and he never looked back. 

Is lightly authoritative in bed, mainly because he knows it turns you on so much. Often uses “good girl” or “bad girl”. Engages in some light spanking, with his hand or his belt, but never actually hurts you and it’s something the two of you have thoroughly discussed and agreed upon. 

He usually guides every encounter. He’s used to being in charge. But you like it because you get to relax and let him do all the planning. Outside the bedroom, you have a totally normal relationship that a lot of people might even call dull, but inside the bedroom? You can both get quite kinky. 

Nanami will sometimes engage in teacher/student role play. You pull on your old high school uniform, which you’ve made a few alterations to in order to make it more sexy, and he has a monumental struggle trying to keep his self control. 

Speaking of his self control, it’s pretty strong. But if you tease him too much, he will absolutely have you bent over his lap, alternating between spanking you with his open palm and pleasuring you with his fingers. He’s very good with his hands. 

Fushiguro Toji:

Is a horn dog. It’s been told in the manga that he went “from woman to woman”, so he definitely got around. I think he’d definitely be into random hookups. But if he formed an emotional connection with you, as he did with Megumi’s mom, he would be faithful to you. 

Has a size kink, definitely. He is HUNG. 

Is very proud of his stamina. He can go for several rounds in a row. He’ll exhaust you, but you’ll definitely end up blissed out and very satisfied. 

Can be very soft and gentle or very rough, depending on the mood. He likes both. He’s also open to most kinks you’d want to try. He’s there for a good time, not to be judgemental. However, he would probably get a little bored or annoyed if there was a lot of prep involved. Wanna role play and throw on some costumes? Sure! But if you have to put a lot of time into converting the bedroom into a particular setting, he will lose interest. 

Probably not the best at aftercare. After he’s satisfied the both of you, he’s falling asleep and probably expecting breakfast in the morning. He’s not picky about what it is though so if you just give him some toast he’s cool with it. 

Enjoys showering together. He’s not the least bit shy about being naked (with that body, can you blame him?) and would think you’re being silly if you acted shy. 

Choso: 

Of all the guys, he’s probably the most shy and subby. He’s also the mostly likely to be a virgin. Not a huge shock considering it’s not been that long since he was incarnated into a human body. 

Choso would be a very sweet and devoted lover. Once he started to view you as family (in a spousal way), he would literally do anything to make you happy. That extends to the bedroom, where he would learn all the things you like just so he can please you. 

Contrary to what some people think, calling him “onii-chan” or “big brother” would not excite him. It would probably be the fastest way to kill his boner. He takes his role as a big brother very seriously, so putting yourself into that context would just make him uncomfortable. 

Doesn’t have many specific kinks but his absolute favorite thing is receiving blowjobs. Seeing you get on your knees in front of him gets him so excited he can barely breathe. He still can’t believe someone like you would work so hard to pleasure someone like him, but he gets mesmerized when he’s watching you suck his dick. 

Definitely the soft type. You’d have a hard time getting him to go rough because he’d be afraid of hurting you, and that’s the last thing he wants. But over time, you could probably convince him to try more spicy activities once you’re both very comfortable with each other. 

[urgonnaneedabiggership]

Perfume Regret

ExBoyfriend!Miguel O'Hara x FemReader

Summary: A fic inspired by Attention by Charlie Puth. Your ex-boyfriend Miguel O'Hara left you heartbroken and no matter how intense the effect he has on you still is, you're determined to use this party to get even.

Warnings: +18 meaning SMUT AND LANGUAGE MINORS DNI OR SO HELP ME GOD. Also there's angst and good old anger-fueled sex. The ending isn't heartbreaking don't worry.

Word count: 4K

I know that dress is karma 

Perfume regret 

Got me thinking 'bout when you were mine 

Nightclubs had never been your scene. 

While you weren't strictly averse to them, you didn't thrive in that element as much as some of your friends did. Yet, whenever you decided to make an appearance, it wasn't the stroboscopic lights, the promise of a few drinks with friends, or the energizing music that made the night worth it. 

It was the hunt. 

And the preparations began long before you even set foot out of your apartment, from the moment you stood in front of the mirror wearing nothing but a fluffy bathrobe, your face a blank canvas. Getting ready with your favorite, emboldening playlist was usually a luxury but not tonight. Judging by the way you struggled to apply eyeliner over your lids with such shaky hands, tonight, you were in dire need of a crushing amount of confidence. 

So much so that a glass with one remaining sip of red wine stood next to your makeup bag, waiting for you to take that last bit of liquid courage. 

Yes, the mere thought of the chase always made your chest swell with excitement. The stolen glances from across the dancefloor until someone gave in and tried to make contact. Loud music left people no choice but to hold conversations in loud whispers that tickled your ear. The desperate attempts to make themselves worthy of your time and the small concessions you made to make them feel like the most special person in that tiny, packed, overpriced club. Flirting was a tango meant for two, and not knowing what kind of partner you'd be dancing with was exhilarating. 

Not this time, however, you thought as you picked up the glass and poured the remaining wine down your throat. Tonight you were after a much too familiar prey that you'd once been dumb enough to let get away. 

As soon as you got the digital invitation to the Alchemax Innovation Department New Year's Eve party, you knew it was time to settle the score. 

A short buzz coming from your phone interrupted your train of thought as the screen lit up with a text from whom you considered to be your work best friend, Liz. 

Heyy :) u coming? 

Yep. Be there in 20, is everybody there already?

O'Hara is missing. Idk if he's coming, though. 

Oh. 

You felt your stomach drop at the thought of all of this being for nothing. Whatever,. Who cared? You weren't doing this for him. You were doing it for yourself because you wanted to go out and have fun. 

A weak smile tugged at your lips when you couldn't even convince yourself with that blatant lie. God, you felt like a terrible feminist at the moment. Screw you, Miguel O'Hara. 

Those had been the last words you said to him before marching out of his apartment and slamming the door after you. Ever since that week during which he’d vanished from work with no explanation, your boyfriend had started to cancel your dates at the last minute or still be out at odd hours, and when he started to simply disappear and not answer your calls or texts several times throughout the day you began to worry.

When he asked if you could talk about something important, you figured you'd be getting an explanation, not dumped. 

The reason, according to him? He was dealing with some personal issues that he could not tell you about, but he'd single-handedly decided it was in your best interest to just move on with your life, so he'd decided to break things off. His face when he said all of that remained engraved in your brain since that day. Cold. Logical. As devoid of any visceral emotion as a doctor would be when recommending you to give up carbs or red meat. 

Two years of your life you'd given to him. You were planning to move in together. You were happy. For what felt like the very first time in your life, you were in love. 

You took a deep breath to keep tears from running down your cheeks and ruining your mascara. 

Even almost six months later, your heart painfully fluttered at the mention of his name.

Carefully, you dried your eyes with a piece of paper and took another deep, slow breath. Your eyes, beautifully framed by a smoky eyeshadow, slowly traced the reflection of your body in the mirror. A sleek, simple dress with a small slit on the side hugged your figure. You loved the color: a nearly black navy blue that matched your chosen makeup palette. 

At the sound of your phone, your eyes drifted down to the lit-up screen. 

Oh, nvm, he just got here. 

The game was afoot. 

As much as it hurt your pride to admit it, you were decidedly nervous as you made your way into the dimly lit nightclub, your eyes discreetly scanning the crowd in search of a particular set of brown eyes. 

Suddenly, a voice made your face in the opposite direction. 

"(Y/N)! Over here!" Liz called from the bar, waving at you with a huge smile that you returned as you walked towards her after wistfully looking at the busy crowd one last time. It wasn't until you reached the bar that you noticed she was sitting next to a man you didn't recognize. 

"So, this is she," she nearly yelled right next to the man's ear when you got close enough to be heard above the deafening electronic beats. 

"Hi, (Y/N), right?" He said, reaching out one hand, "I'm David. Liz has told me a lot about you," 

"Dave here just joined the team," Liz explained, giving his arm a gentle squeeze, "I thought it would be nice to make him feel welcomed. I'll leave you to it. I have to go say hi to a few people," She continued as she left the bar, not before giving you a certain look that made you realize you'd walked straight into a trap. While David was decidedly handsome, and you could've considered him to be your type under different circumstances, right then, your mind was somewhere else. 

"Sure," You replied distractedly, "So why did you choose to work here?" 

That should be enough to keep him talking for a while about his college education and how all he'd ever wanted to do was work for this company and so on while you focused on the matter at hand. 

Where the hell was he? 

Could it be that he'd just popped in to greet a few people and had left before you arrived? Before the countdown? 

Maybe he was celebrating New Year's with somebody else? 

"Sorry, one shot of tequila, please," You loudly called as the bartender walked past you. 

"Make that two, thanks man," David added with a flirtatious smile that you returned out of politeness, mentally praying for Liz to come back soon, knowing damn well that if she'd done this on purpose, there'd be no way out of this conversation. 

You downed the shot as soon as it was placed in front of you. 

David asked you something, but his voice reached your ears as if he was underwater. For a minute, you wondered if such a small amount of alcohol could make you feel so dizzy until you realized it was something else. Your eyes had landed on the back of a familiar head. Brown, scruffy hair and a hearty laugh that had your hands shaking again as you placed the glass back on the wooden bar. 

"God, I'm so sorry. My head's all over the place right now. You were saying?" You said, leaning closer to David. 

"I asked if Alchemax tends to go easy on the new guys or kick them to the curb at the first mistake." 

You laughed as if he'd just told an amazing joke, your eyes covertly going from his face to your target right behind him. At the sound of your laugh, his back stiffened, and you could see he was about to turn around. Right before he did, you quickly tore your eyes off him and glued them to David's face. 

"Oh, don't worry, you'll be just fine. I'll tell you what, I'll look out for you. How's that sound?” You replied, a more relaxed smile plastered on your face. David's eyes lit up. Poor guy. He probably thought that out of nowhere, his luck had shifted. 

Slowly and without losing the amused grin, you peeked over David's shoulder and found Miguel O'Hara's searing eyes staring right into yours. Unlike you, he wasn't smiling. Instead, he let those same calculating eyes unashamedly scrutinize every inch of your body that your gorgeous dress didn't cover and secretly fantasize about what it did. 

Another loud laughter leaving your lips made him snap out of a trance-like state and look into your eyes. Hunting on grounds you were no stranger to had its advantages, such as knowing what to do and when. And so you didn't look away. You held his gaze, undaunted, as you took David's unfinished tequila and brought it up to your lips to take a sip, barely sticking out your tongue to slowly lick the last droplets off your lower lip. You mouthed an apology to the man before you as you walked away from the bar, both for the stolen tequila and for what was about to happen. 

Trying your hardest not to smile or look at him, you made your way through the crowd straight toward Miguel, whose eyes you knew had remained with you since that intense visual exchange back at the bar. You felt them so intensely that you wondered if he could make you burst out in flames just by looking at you. You clenched your jaw as you got close enough for the scent of his enticing cedarwood cologne to fill your nostrils and travel all the way down to your chest, where your heart beat so strongly that it physically hurted. 

You only had one shot. This was it. 

It wasn't until you walked right past him that you finally acknowledged him, gifting him a faint smile as you stepped around him and walked toward the restrooms. 

As soon as the door closed after you, you found the two stalls were empty. After confirming you were alone, a nervous grin took over your features. Biting your lip, you approached the mirror and distractedly began to comb your hair back in place and even retouched your nude lipstick, your eyes set on the reflection of the bathroom door. 

Almost as if you'd timed it, the second you finished applying your makeup and threw it back into your purse, Miguel stealthily slid inside and shut the door after him. 

A minute that felt like an eternity to him transcurred while you kept patiently tucking strands of hair behind your ears, concealing a smug grin. Something had to give. More often, sooner than later. 

"Mind telling me what the fuck was that?" 

His voice bounced off the walls and reached your ears like a once-favorite song you hadn't heard in months. 

"What do you mean?" You calmly asked, never interrupting your task. 

"(Y/N), stop that and look at me." He commanded, his patience wearing thinner by the second. 

"I am looking at you," You nonchalantly replied, your eyes transfixed on his tense shape in the corner of the mirror as you slowly wiped some smudged lipstick off the edge of your bottom lip. 

Outside, the one-minute countdown began. Neither of you could care less. Inside that dimly lit, empty nightclub bathroom, time was irrelevant. 

In less than five steps, Miguel reached your side and, placing his hands on your shoulders, firmly spun you around to face him. 

"Carajo, ¿Tú no entiendes, verdad?" He hissed, his next leaving his mouth after an ominous pause, "Now look at me."

Not happy with the way you were being handled, you shoved him away and shot him a glare with your arms folded before you. 

"There, I'm looking. What do you want?" 

"I want you to tell me who's that asshole and why you seem to think he's so damn funny," 

"I'm sorry, O'Hara, that's none of your business anymore, is it?" You spat out.

"It was none of my business,' He agreed, wincing at the dry use of his last name, "Until you showed up in here looking like that, laughing like a dumb teen at some guy's dumb jokes, making sure I'm watching after you did some pretty extensive research to make sure I was coming."

Wanting to rebuke that argument, you immediately opened your mouth just for him to interrupt you. 

"What? You thought I wouldn't find out, bonita?" 

Miguel started to move towards you without giving you a chance to explain yourself. Still, you weren't sure of what you would've said had you been given the time. Three seconds later, he was standing right before you, trapping you against the cold stone of the sinks.

"Why are you doing this?" He absentmindedly asked, as if he was actually questioning himself or already knew the answer. Before you could react, he suddenly leaned in, burying his face in your neck and taking a deep breath, taking in the scent of your perfume along with something else that you couldn’t perceive but seemed to pull him forward so violently that he had to use both his strong arms on either side of you to hold himself back. Still, he kept babbling against the soft skin of your neck, “I didn’t want to do it…I didn’t…I shouldn’t have…mi amor, I just wanted to protect you,” 

“Protect me from what?” You asked in a breathy whisper, your self-control flaking when you felt him move even closer until your backside was pressed against the sink and your front...

You pressed your lips together to keep a noise that would be much too revealing from leaving your lips. 

Still, you realized your trials and tribulations weren’t over when his hands slowly moved closer to your thighs until his thumbs were tracing faint circles on them. 

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked in a hoarse voice before burying his nose behind your ear once more. You had to want him to stop. Before you could gather up the courage to tell him off as you should, you leaned forward and feverishly pressed your lips against his in a kiss that was all but sweet. Without breaking the kiss, in a display of both strength and coordination that was new to you, Miguel slid his hands under your thighs and lifted you effortlessly, placing you on top of the sink with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with the way he nudged your legs out of the way so he could grind his lower half into yours. This time there was no way in hell you could contain your moans. 

Pleased with the beautiful sounds he was eliciting from you, Miguel’s hands found their way back up to the thin straps of your dress, which he gently slid off from your shoulders before gripping your chin in his hand and tilting your head to the side so he could devour every inch of skin available, occasionally trapping it between his teeth to make sure it’d leave a mark. Even in your haze, you could notice there was something new to the way he was ravishing you. It was as if he was desperately trying to be gentle, to take things slow, just for something primal to take over and coerce him into taking you for himself. 

Once again, you stopped thinking when he pressed the hard bulge in his pants against you, the friction over your barely clothed clit throwing all logical thoughts out the window. 

“We don’t have much time,” You urged him, not even sure if he’d locked the door after himself. However, deep inside, you knew your motives had less to do with the little privacy and more with the way he unhurriedly worshipped your body and peppered kisses all over it, how his hands gently roamed it as if he was trying to commit every detail to memory. It reminded you of what you two had in a way that was still too painful to remember. You wouldn’t lose yourself to the memories of your past and miss out on how good he was making you feel right now. Tonight you weren’t two people deeply in love with one another trying to fight back the regrets of letting go of what was most precious to you, but two strangers about to fuck in the bathroom of a nightclub. 

As if to reinforce that thought, he swiftly pushed you further back onto the sink and pushed your legs apart even more, your dress ridding up almost all the way to your waist. You shivered as new skin was exposed to both the cold beneath you and the heat from Miguel’s skin as he fumbled with the fly of his pants. Meanwhile, you kept yourself busy trying to unbutton his shirt with shaky hands and silently thanked he wasn’t wearing a jacket in the first place. You needed to get him out of as many clothes as possible in the little time you had, needing to feel more of his skin against yours. 

Your desire wasn’t fulfilled until the shirt slid off his tan, broad shoulders, and you were pressed against his bare chest, his hands resting at the curve of your lower back as his head barely slid over your soaked slit, prying a raspy moan out of his throat that sounds almost painful. Still, even when you slid your hands around his shoulders and intertwined your fingers behind the nape of his head, he didn’t move further. 

“What are you waiting for?” You breathlessly asked, arching your back towards him with a huff just for him to move his hips away, escaping your touch, trying to regain some control over himself. 

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” He muttered. Shit. Not right now. Out of the whole night, he had to choose this precise moment? No. He hurt you. He owed you. And now it was his turn to shut up and take it. 

Taking advantage of his low guard, you hooked your feet behind his back and roughly pulled him towards you, another needy moan escaping your lips as you felt him right at your entrance, whatever remaining reluctance keeping him from sinking into you. It took every ounce of willpower to keep yourself from begging. 

“Alright,” He finally says, his hands sliding under your thighs to hold you firmly in place, “If this is what it takes for you to listen to me, bonita, así le vamos a hacer entonces.” 

He accentuated his words by slamming into you and immediately picking up a maddeningly fast pace, the loud music outside hopefully drowning out your endless string of broken moans. 

“I just…wanted you to be happy,” He spoke in a strained voice in between thrusts. 

“Shut up,” You snapped at him. You were happy. And it did nothing but further enrage you to see he was unaware of how miserable you were now without him. Or maybe he was aware because he reached that spot that always made your legs uncontrollably quiver and focused all his energy on it as if he was trying to make up for everything. 

“I love you,” He blurted out as he felt you clenching around his length, his hips stuttering for a second before the sigh that left your lips made him lift your leg further up his torso and slam into you with renewed fire, “God, (Y/N) I love you so much, I can’t do this anymore,” 

“Shut up,” You sobbed, this time as a plead and not an order. Your heart fluttered as you heard the words you’d waited months to hear, and feeling him roughly stroke your walls at this new angle became too much for you to bear. A string of ‘shut ups’ and sounds that resembled his name left your lips as your hands fell to his stomach, trying to push him away while paradoxically needing him to be closer, needing to feel more of him just in case this was the last time you felt him stretch you out in a way you were hauntingly certain nobody else would ever come close to. 

And he wasn’t doing any better. He wanted to pull your head against his chest and wrap his arms around you. He wanted to get on his knees and spend the rest of the night apologizing using his words or his tongue, whatever you wanted as long as you went home with him that night. He wanted you to live a happy, normal life. He couldn’t give you that anymore. Not after that night. Not after the accident. 

But those bad thoughts melted away in his brain when he saw your eyes pressed shut, your beautiful, furrowed eyebrows arching over them perfectly as you chased that high that Miguel knew only he could give you. Something that sounded like an actual sentence left your lips so quietly that he had to lean closer to get it. 

“What was that, bonita?” 

You pressed your lips together, unwilling to repeat yourself until another perfectly calculated thrust pried the half-coherent words out of your mouth. 

“Need you…inside. Please, Miguel, please,”  

Hearing his name being called out like that for the first time in months was all he needed to come undone, his pace faltering as he pressed himself against you, strong arms gripping your waist as he spilled his load inside you with one last labored moan. 

Nothing but extenuated pants could be heard inside the bathroom for a whole, tense minute before you finally moved, taking a few sheets of paper from the dispenser next to the sinks to clean yourself up. 

“What are you doing?” He asked as you straightened your dress and tried to somehow fix your disheveled hair. 

“You wanted to apologize, you did, and I forgive you,” You categorically answered, “But don’t expect me to come running back into your arms as if what you did was nothing,” 

Still, you needed him to know there was hope left for the both of you. So you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips and then his cheek, granting yourself one moment of vulnerability as you looked into his eyes with a gentle smile. 

“I love you too,” You whispered, giving in to the urge to kiss him again. You basked in his shocked look before turning your back to him and going back to the party, where you bumped into Liz less than five minutes later. 

“There you are! Where the hell were you? You missed the countdown!” 

It wasn’t until you looked around at the confetti-filled floor and the large numbers on a screen that you remembered. 

“I went to the bathroom,” You replied, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and reaching out to take a glass of champagne from one of the several trays atop the tables, “Where did your friend run off to?” 

“David?” Liz asked, a deep red blush spreading over her cheeks, “He had to go home. I hope you don’t mind, but we’re getting dinner next Friday,” 

“Don’t mind at all,” You replied with a bright smile, eyes already scanning the half-empty club, once again looking for that same face. The one you knew you’d always look for in a crowd for the rest of your life. This time, thanks to the small number of people left, it wasn’t hard to come across his eyes. Amused, you raised your glass at him with a soft, genuine laugh. He did his best to look annoyed, but the minute you tilted your head and gave him your best apologetic look, Miguel rolled his eyes and shook his head with a reluctant smile that made you laugh again before taking a sip of that cheap champagne. 

This was going to be a great year.

[epicthemusical]

Familiar Longing

@fuckingdeadinsidetm for the inspiration so thank you!

Eurylochus takes a deep breath before heading over to his Captain's hunched form. He has to confess about opening the wind bag or else the guilt will strangle him. He looks down in shame as he starts to talk.

"Captain, I have something I have to tell you. I won't be able to rest until I do. Captain I-" 

As he is about to confess he looks up and stands there speechless. The rising sun hits the brown curls and gods when did his Captain's hair get so long? He is reminded of the times after he and Ctimene spent mornings on the beach as she ran through waves and sand laughing freely with a grin. She always ended up with her curls tangled up while covered in salt and sand. Every time he made sure to gently clean and untangle her hair as they relaxed together. The color is a bit off and it's still shorter than hers but it's still so familiar. He is broken out of his memories and longing by Odysseus' voice.

"Whatever you have to say can wait some more I'm sure. Go scout the island, we can't take any more dangers sneaking up on us."

"Yes Captain."

Eurylochus walks away shame and guilt feels like it's choking him but he does as he was ordered and gathered men before heading off to scout the island.

—----------------------------------------------------

Eurylochus stares down at the still form of his friend, his brother, his captain. He feels sick at the blood pooling on the deck adding to the sickening metallic smell from the 6 who had died. Thinking of that again has some part of him shrinking in on itself as the betrayal and guilt lay heavy in his chest.

“Captain?” He had felt so relieved that Odysseus had trusted him enough to still have him carry out his orders even after he finally admitted to opening the wind bag Eurylochus light up six torches. He had trusted him but he obviously chose wrong.

“Sir.” All he has ever known is being the second in command. He follows orders and keeps everyone safe. How was he supposed to lead, to be a captain? He doesn't have Odysseus to catch him if he falls anymore. What is he supposed to do now?

“Eurylochus!” He finally snaps out of it and looks up at the remaining crew to think they had started out with 600 men

“What should we do with the capt- with Odysseus?” He glances again at the unconscious Odysseus. It would be reasonable to kill him now after all they did just mutiny. Who knows what will happen once he wakes up but…he can't bring himself to let him die. Not only is he Eurylochus’ brother-in-law but he is also Ctimene’s brother. The thought of having to watch his beloved wife's face fall in despair when he has to tell her Eurylochus is the one who killed her brother…no he can't let Odysseus die.

“We need to wrap his wounds and tie him up. Make sure to tie him well. We all know how tricky he can be.” Many of the crew grumble a bit but do as they are told although they made no effort to be gentle. Eurylochus' hands tighten their hold on himself trying his best to ignore the pained moans from Odysseus as he is tied securely to the mast, his wound taken care of.

He hands out orders firmly despite the growing unease and uncertainty he feels. He can't let his weakness show now that he is Captain or else they will lose trust in him. Now matter how exhausted or how much he wants to break he cannot falter. He glances once again at Odysseus tied to the mast before making his way to his room. He knows that the captain's quarters technically belong to him now but it just feels wrong. That has always been Odysseus' room and he can't bring himself to change that because that would make it official. That would mean he has to fully accept what he had just done and he isn't ready for that he doesn't think he ever will be.

Eurylochus all but collapses onto his bed and stares at the ceiling almost feeling numb. He glances down at the blood still on him and the sudden grief overwhelms him as he starts crying. Once the tears start he cant stop as he lays curled up his body shaking from his sobs as he lets out all his pain. Polites would be so disappointed in them both. He told Odysseus that if he wanted all the power then he must carry all the blame but he can't bring himself to believe those words. How could he after he was the one questioning Odysseus time after time. His own doubt made him open the wind bag leading to so many dying. He has just as much blood on his hands as Odysseus, maybe even more.

He slowly calms down leaving only a hollow ache in his chest as he drifts off to sleep praying for a dreamless rest.

The next day he sits down by the mast watching over Odysseus. He still isn't awake just yet but he knows how quickly things could change with him. Eurylochus takes some time to really look at his friend for the first time in a while. Ever since Circe's island where he noticed how Odysseus' hair had grown longer and achingly familiar to Ctimene’s curly hair he has tried his best to not look too hard. He takes in the bags under his eyes and how skinny he had become. What draws his attention the most however is once again his hair. His hair had grown long and tangled but it is so painfully familiar even with the slight color difference it reminds him so much of his wife. He aches to thread his fingers through the knots gently untangle it like he often did with Ctimene at the end of the day. They used to talk and laugh about anything and everything while he helped calm her unruly hair that never seemed to obey. As he comes back from the memory the hollow feeling grows and he feels so very tired.

-----

They arrive at the next island and Odysseus is tied to a nearby statue as they find plenty of large healthy cows roaming nearby. Eurylochus notices Odysseus is starting to stir and he can't help but miss Odysseus, the Odysseus he had known and trusted with his life and the lives of the crew. When is the last time either of them have smiled or laughed? Perhaps it was before Polites had died which isn't surprising. Polites had always been the best of them, always so kind and positive. He was the glue that kept everyone together so when he died of course everything started falling apart. Odysseus groans as he wakes up at last.

"Uhg my head...where are we?"

"The first island we found. It has this statue of the sun god and we found all these cows to eat."

"Don't tell me you're about to do what I think you'll do!" 

It hurts hearing his friend plead with those familiar words. He feels so heavy and he just wants to lay down and never move again but he can't not when he needs to take care of the crew.

"I'm hungry, my friend."

His stomach grumbles at the thought of finally eating and he knows the crew feels the same hunger eating them from the inside.

"And I'm tired.."

He is just so very tired. Tired of fighting, of thinking and hoping that somehow they will end up home again. He sees Odysseus start to struggle against the ropes.

"Please we can still make it home! We just need to keep going!"

How many times has he heard that? We are almost home, this is our final fight, our journey is almost done it has become a hollow statement at this point. Hope has long since been crushed. 

"Ody we are never going to make it home."

Why should he make himself and the crew suffer even more when they have meat to eat right here when they won't make it home anyway? A crew mate leads a cow to Eurylochus and he raises his sword.

"I'm just a man."

Odysseus manages to cut the ropes on a nearby rock and once free springs into action trying to stop Eurylochus.

"EURYLOCHUS NO!"

He is too late as the sword slices through flesh and golden blood stains the sword. He stares in shock at the gold. Why is it gold? A storm forms and lighting rumbles ominously.

"You doomed us...you doomed us all Eurylochus!"

Eurylochus looks up at Odysseus noting the terror hidden in his eyes and the red bleeding through the bandages. He has rarely ever seen Odysseus terrified like this and if his brother feels so now...what has he done?

"..Captain?"

He orders the crew to grab an oar and row for their lives. The anger and fear in his voice jolt everyone into action as they default to following orders as they had for over a decade. Eurylochus looks concerned at the still growing red spot as Odysseus turns and meets his eyes.

"Those cows are immortal, they are the sun god's friends. And now that we've pissed him off WHO DO YOU THINK HE'LL SEND?!"

Eurylochus pales as he realizes just how badly he has messed up. How could he have been so stupid?! No he knows why, he had given up on getting home and his hunger, always the damn hunger that screws them over. He should have learned from the cyclops cave. How could he have given up on seeing Ctimene again? More lightning crackles through the sky lighting up a form in the clouds.

"We're too late..."

Zeus descends from the thunder clouds as lightning continues to shatter the sky and cause ears to ring. He sees Odysseus stand as tall as he can considering the still slowly bleeding wound with determined eyes. That's always been his go to attitude when it comes to gods, he tries to appear confident and firm. Eurylochus can only hope his brother will find a way out as he usually does.

But will he? He has shown he is willing to sacrifice you if it means getting home.

Eurylochus can feel the exhaustion and hopelessness creep in again as Odysseus is finally given a choice, him or the crew. It's obvious that there it wasn't going to be a choice, not for Odysseus.

He doesn't really mind dying at this point but he regrets that the crew had to be included as well. That and no matter what Odysseus chooses, Ctimene will be heartbroken. He can't be sure that he won't give up again so it's best Odysseus is the one who lives because if anybody can manage to make it home it would be him. At least that way he can be sure his wife will have someone to comfort her.

".. Captain?"

He still finds himself protesting even with his heart not in it. He has to try if only for the crew around him.

"I have to see her again..."

"But we'll die."

What is it he told Odysseus? Ah yes If you want all the power you must carry all the blame. If the crew dies it won't be Odysseus' fault only his. He is the one that decided to slaughter the cow and doom them all. He sees Odysseus turn around to face him with teary eyes full of guilt and exhaustion, just like Eurylochus.

"I know."

Eurylochus breaks more at how broken Odysseus sounds. He is obviously grieving the choice he had to make. Eurylochus takes a deep breath and stands still accepting his death without a fight even as the others draw swords and rush Odysseus. 

Electricity hums in the air before lightning strikes and pain crackles through his body. As he starts to sink the pain dulls, his nerves having been fried beyond use. He closes his eyes and lets the darkness take him.

I'm sorry Ctimene...

[spacebaby1]

Ghost of you (Law Trafalgar x Reader. ft Cora-San) Part 4

You had left a note to inform Law that you were out working on your "research," but you were on your way to look for the devil fruit. You had been walking for a few hours now crossing on the map wherever you were sure it was a dead end.

'Can you at least explain why you are doing this?' Cora-San spoke, appearing beside you as you walked, you shrugged, 'doing what?' You asked, not taking your eyes off the map. 'The devil fruit, and why you are in need of it? Don't you know that devil fruit eaters can't swim?'

'I already can't swim'

'But you are a pira-'

'Map maker,' you explained, 'I don't remember calling myself a pirate. I never did anything pirate. If i would be honest with you, I was just at the wrong place at the right time to meet Captain.' Cora-San chuckled, 'yet, you still call Law your captain.' It was your turn to chuckle, 'I mean he is the captain, and he pretty much saved my life, so I am very grateful for him and again; he's nice! I like him and don't you wanna talk to him?'

'What do you mean by that he saved you?' Cora-San asked, probably not hearing the last line you spoke. 'I was thrown away by my parents and raised by this old lady. She wasn't nice, that I can say. I was clearly not her favourite, so I kept myself away from her sight, and one day, I accidentally met Captain. Well, I was in an disagreement or a fight whatever you call it with this giant men, but I happened to be lucky because I ran into Captain and he gave the men a beaten they never got before,' you laughed at the memories, 'and he asked me if I had a home...I told him the truth, that I was alone and ever since he and the crew were home to me. I would do anything for him, he's been the nicest to me than anyone ever was, it's a cruel world when you're alone and very cold, just like now! How about we go there?' You pointed in far distance to the end of the town.

Cora-San pouted at your words, but he smiled happily at how your eyes light up whenever you talked about law. You both walked till you reached the end of the town and near a huge tree you placed your map in bag and went to look for the devil fruit, after looking around the tree you raised your head only to find the shining red devil fruit on the top of the tree; you beamed in happiness as you jumped up and down, 'I found it! I found it!'

Pulling out the gun the Law had given you for safety reasons you shot at the three and after two shots the fruit fell in your hands as you dropped the gun, 'Hey, you!' You turned towards the deep voice; there stood two men larger than you smirking, 'hand us that devil fruit.'

You looked at the men, then the devil fruit, then back at the men. Without another word, you ate the devil fruit in one go only to gag as the taste of it almost chocking. One of the men grabbed you by the hair, and you yelped before kicking him on the foot and running away, still gagging at the aftertaste of the devil fruit. You thought the men would let it go, but you were wrong.

They were after you as the more you ran, the more weak you felt yourself getting. There was indeed something written about the person who consumes this devil fruit will face a moment of severe weakness the moment they eat it until they use it for the very first time. You kept taking turns as you ran and the only thing that was familiar to your vision now was that same gravestone, 'C-Cora-San' You sighed before dragging yourself towards the gravestone and falling face first on the concrete with your hand flat on the surface. The men laughed as they approached you, only to be stopped by the sheer blue light that almost blinded them. They fell on the ground.

You gasped as you tried to keep your eyes open, but your vision was blurry. You saw what looked like your captain and heard the faint voice, 'Keep your hands away from her.' That sounded nothing like your captain but more like...

'Cora-San?' You passed out.