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#like. i do keep going back and forth on whether it was really her but this is literally THEE least reason why oh my god
queerofthedagger · 6 months
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I just think that there are many reasons why one can go back and forth on whether Ygraine's spirit is really Ygraine in s2e8, but judging her and/or the situation one way or another over the fact that she is for once someone who tells Arthur the goddamn truth really just ain't it. Like. of course he would be furious! maybe because - and hear me out here - the truth is something to be furious about! Everyone constantly fucking lies and lies and lies to Arthur, to spare him, to stop him from being angry, for one million supposed reasons of knowing better, so maybe yes a sign of actual love is to not put yourself into the line-up and be honest, for once in his goddamn life
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aphroditesswan · 1 year
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Hi! I was wondering whether you could do hc’s on when hsr men and women react when they see a bulge (whether from their cocks or dildo’s) when their fucking you - G
intro: singularity 
honkai star rail x afab fem reader 
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warning : smut, tummy bulge, nsft, rough sex, mating press, degrading, praise, full nelson, cowgirl, begging, body worship, mirror usage (?), size kink, breeding kink, marking, spanking, implied strap on use but never explicitly stated, breath play, i dunno what else ngl, might be ooc 
summary : while the hsr characters are rearranging your insides, they notice themselves inside your guts. how do they react? 
genre : smut 
notes : can you tell i went SO HARD on the women’s. 
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Caelus 
caelus threw his head back as he sank into you, his arms hooked around the back of your legs to spread them wide open for the mirror in front of you both, his hips bucking up to push himself further into you. he brought his gaze back, that the whole point of the mirror was to see your pretty face as he fucked you senseless. he moved in and out, his eyes moving around your body and almost completely tuning out your whines at his agonizingly slow pace. when he noticed the small bump in your stomach that disappeared when he pulled almost halfway out, he only got slower, wanting to see every second that his cock moved in and out of you and really, truly fucked you. 
“just wait baby, please please please please… fuck you feel so nice around me.” 
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Stelle 
her hands gripped your hips as she moved you up and down her length, her eyes focused on the way your chest moved up and down with your breath along with each sudden buck of her hips she made up into you. when stelle’s gaze finally met the bulge in your stomach, she bucked her hips up harder than before to get a good look at the tent that appeared and disappeared with each thrust, causing a yelp to be let out of you. she put pressure on the bulge as she thrusted in as deeply as she could, a giddy smile on her face that complimented her dazed eyes that were focused on your stomach and tits that bounced with each thrust. she was completely and utterly memorized with how your body moved and reacted to everything she did, and she was only determined to keep seeing the reactions on that pretty face of yours. 
“look at how nice i look in you, baby… you’re sooo gorgeous like this,,” 
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March 7th
her hands eagerly moved around you, touching, feeling, groping wherever they could as she thrusted in and out of you. march noticed the slight movement in your stomach when she moved her hands down to claw into your thighs, but she didn’t stop any of her thrust. she kept going just as she had before she noticed, one hand digging into your thigh while the other pushed down on your stomach as she giggled softly at the sight. she was quick to grab her camera though, snapping a picture on her blue camera of the bulge in your stomach appearing as she thrusted in and out of you, then one of your flushed out face, getting your pretty tits in both pictures. 
“you’re so pretty for me, how could i resist?” 
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Dan Heng
his fingers were digging into the soft plush of your thighs when he noticed, slowing down his moments which was complete agony for you. dan heng quietly observed with his mouth slightly agape, just gazing at the small bulge in your stomach that could be seen as he thrusted in and out of you harshly. he kept his eyes focused on you and clear, his demeanor seemingly calm, but the very obvious blush on his face and the way he’s staring straight into the little area of your guts spoke otherwise. he’ll return to his fast pace in just a second, just let him admire you for a bit. 
“oh… oh, wow…” 
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Kafka 
she had already bent you like a pretzel, you wondered how she hadn’t seen the bulge in your stomach by now as she pressed her hips against yours countless times. kafka had your legs over her shoulders, a gold anklet with the letter ‘k’ on it for her swinging back and forth and dangling next to her ear for her to hear as she pushed in and out of you. her gaze finally shifting from your fucked out expression to trial down between your bouncing breast and while on her way to where your bodies connected, something catching her eye that made her look from your dripping cunt to right above, the small bump going in and out with each thrust. she moved a hand that gripped right above your knee and pressed you against her chest to push down on the bulge, feeling it move under her as the other hand squeezed your neck softly. 
“you’re such a slut, y’know? felt that this whole time and didn’t even think to tell me.” 
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Himeko 
she was so,so,so gentle with you. himeko was always taking her time to fully sink you done onto her length as she sat you flat on her lap. she ran her hands over your body, pressing and squeezing where she wanted but was still so gentle with you, letting you set the pace and believe you were in control and everything. she had her eyes focused on you, eye contact being something she valued when fucking you so nicely you saw white. her hands trailed down the sides of your stomach, whispering praises on how good you were for her, how she enjoyed every single second of you on top of her when her hands stopped, fingers grazing over the place where she felt a bit of movement. she caught on rather quickly, laughing under her breath to herself. 
“my… how lewd, don’t you think?” 
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Blade 
with your thighs pressed against his large chest, movement for you was almost impossible unless blade was manhandling you or you were rocking back and forth from his harsh thrust. his hands gripped bruises into your hips, groaning into your ear as he restricted some of your breathing with just pressing himself onto you, your knees pushing your tits together and your thighs against your stomach. he was laid on top of you but was somehow keeping his stance with how he thrusted in and out of you. he looked down to see where you two met, seeing the small bulge that popped out whenever he was balls deep in you. he chuckled lowly at the sight below him, smacking your thigh which earned a small yelp and a star seeing clench around his cock from you. 
“pathetic, you’re so small i’m practically popping out of you. you can take it, can’t you?”
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thinkinonsense · 5 days
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TALK, TALK₊˚⊹ ʚɞ
logan howlett x mutant!reader
cw: fluff, sweet logan
a/n: inspired by the charli xcx song<3 everything in spanish and french is from google translate so if it's incorrect, that why.
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you were no stranger to crushes. they always showed up out of the blue; you couldn't help it. all it took was one glance, a smile, a bit of small talk, anything really. none of this changed when he entered your life.
maybe cupid had struck you in the ass at some point.
for weeks, everyone in the mansion knew where your feelings had floated. normally, you try not to develop any crushes on the people you see daily but this guy was different. even sort of dangerous; the thrill excited you.
"you don't understand, storm." you groan, helping her train downstairs. "there's just something about him. i can't explain it."
your dear friend laughs, swinging at the boxing bag again. "i'm not saying not to go after him... just be careful is all."
"well, there's nothing to worry about because he hasn't even talked to me." a small sigh escapes you.
"he hasn't talked to you?" she questions. you shake your head. "that's odd. i wonder why not?"
"well, he keeps to himself." you shrug, thinking of excuses besides the fact that he likely doesn't share the same feelings you do.
"hm... have you tried talking to him?"
"nooo." you giggle nervously. "absolutely not! you know how i get when i actually have to talk to people i have crushes on."
"i know." storm joins in on your laughter. "it's like someone set you on top of a stove; you just start melting."
"it all comes out like, 'blah, blah, blah'."
"you never know, maybe he speaks 'blah, blah, blah' too."
little did storm know that her words would linger around in your head every time you see him.
₊˚⊹ ʚɞ
obliviousness was not a trait logan had. he noticed everything; whether he liked it or not. in this case, he didn't mind noticing everything about you.
it started when he saw a shadow following him to the cafeteria, down the hall, and to the training room. he tried to be polite and ignore it; too afraid to scare you off entirely.
a couple days after your talk with storm, charles sent the older mutants out on a mission. this included storm, scott, logan, and yourself. upon the return, all of the older mutants gathered in the kitchen to unwind. you, storm, and kurt sat together at the table. the two of them bickered back and forth about something silly that happened during the mission.
it wasn't fair how good logan looked during the mission. the tight black spandex did wonders for his form. it felt like some high school crush. butterfly's always in your stomach when he looks at you.
on the other side of the room, logan sat in a wooden chair next to hank, with a cigar dangling from his lips. it must've felt like you were burning holes into the side of his head. even storm had to nudge you to look away from him, telling you to stop giving him 'heart eyes'.
"think someone's got a crush on you, pal." hank teases logan. "heard she's been waiting for you to talk to her."
you looked pretty, sitting at the table with a slight red stain on the inside of your lips, matching the flush of red on your cheeks when you notice him catching you staring. logan couldn't think of anything that compare to the ethereal sight before him.
₊˚⊹ ʚɞ
the glass of red wine on your hand was now empty, allowing you to excuse yourself from their conversation for a moment. at the counter, you pour yourself another glass; finishing off the bottle. when you turn to toss the bottle in the trash, you bump into someone.
"s-sorry." you squeal before realizing that it was logan that you bumped into.
"no need to apologize." he assures.
one of logan's big wide palms places itself on your waist, helping keep you upright. all of the wine flooded your mind, unable to form a proper sentence.
"dios mío, eres tan hermoso." you ramble drunkenly shooting stars from your eyes.
*oh my god, you're so gorgeous.
logan couldn't be more confused by your suddenly language switch but he found it awfully amusing. it wasn't a total surprise, he knew you were incredibly intelligent. charles always sang your praises. if you were even a little bit sober right now, you would be mortified.
"whatcha' thinking about, sweetheart?" he smirks, loving how flustered you became.
little did you know, the 200 year old mutant has definitely picked up on some different languages over his lifetime. to logan it didn't even matter whether or not he understood what you meant, he just wanted you to keep talking.
"je veux embrasser ton joli visage." your tongue runs over your bottom lip.
*wanna kiss your pretty face.
"hm... tell me more." logan purrs into your ear. completely forgetting about everyone else in the room.
"he estado enamorado de ti durante meses, ¿sabes?"
*i've had a crush on you for months, you know?
"je pense à toi tous les jours." you step closer, drunk with confidence. "pendant les entraînements, en mission, seule au lit... tout le temps."
*i think about you everyday. during training, on missions, alone in bed... all the time.
"such a smart girl, aren't 'cha, honey?" he groans softly at your words.
it took everything in logan not to kiss you right here, right now. he wanted you to remember the first time he kissed you.
"je veux être ta copine, logan." you whisper in his ear.
*wanna be your girl, logan.
"¿puedes guardar mi secreto?"
*can you keep my secret?
he never wanted you to stop talking; loving every word that falls from your foreign lips.
it wasn't long until storm, pulls you away hoping she caught you before you said anything you would regret. logan didn't mind, too excited to see you in the morning.
₊˚⊹ ʚɞ
when you woke up, your head was pounding. nothing worse than a wine hangover. you couldn't remember anything after jean poured you a third glass of wine. you took two aspirins and laid in bed for an extra hour before you finally made it downstairs for breakfast.
logan smelled your lavender scented shampoo the second you stepped out of your room. he had been downstairs waiting for you. everyone had already started their day, off either teaching or training. not him though, he had different plans for his day.
"morning." logan said to you as you walked into the kitchen. your heart fluttered, he could hear it.
"good morning." you reply meekly as you grab a plate and some utensils.
he sips on his plain black coffee while you place two waffles and some fruit onto your plate. theres a small stack of books next to logan on the table but you don't give it a second glance.
"wanna sit?" he asks you.
this was a completely different side of logan compared to the usually grumpy version of him that everyone sees.
"sure."
"did you have fun last night?"
he needed to test the waters on what you remember. by the late arrival to breakfast, logan's guess was not much.
"would you believe me if i said that i can't remember much?" you giggle nervously as you bite into a strawberry. "i was probably being boring in some corner."
you couldn't have been more wrong, logan thinks to himself. the two of you have some small talk for a while, enjoying each others company. this wasn't helping your crush from spreading.
once you cleared your plate and logan finished his coffee, both of you get up to place your dishes into the sink when you noticed the books in logan's hands. one spine read 'beginners guide to french' and the other read 'spanish for dummies'.
in a flash, everything came hurtling back at you full speed. this wasn't yours and logan's first conversation alone together.
"¿Qué pasa cariño?" logan asks, voice filled with desire as he cages you against the sink. his lips ghosted over your own; tempting you beyond your strengths. "je pensais que tu voulais que je te parle ?"
*what's wrong, sweetheart?
*i thought you wanted me to talk to you?
"et merde." you whisper before pulling on the collar of his flannel, smashing his lips into yours.
*fuck it.
the sheer taste of the other drove both of you insane. the mix of logan's coffee and tobacco contrasting with your sweet syrup and fruity taste was intoxicating. you pull back, needing to catch your breath. logan's lips moved south, sucking a dark purple bruise on your pulse point.
"better than i imaged." logan groans, obsessed with your every being.
"imagine si tu m'avais parlé plus tôt ?" you wink down at him.
*imagine if you had talked to me sooner?
logan chuckles, bending to pick you up. "love that mouth of yours, sweetheart. lets see what other languages it speaks."
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cxrrodedcoffin · 2 months
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Rock Me - Spencer Reid
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Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!
Summary: Spencer decides to surprise Rockstar!Reader on the road after one of her tour stops, so they fuck each other’s brains out.
Word Count: 3.8k
A/N: I made my first custom fic header! I really wanted to capture the vibe I was picturing for this so I hope y’all like it! Decided to combine my love of music with my love for Spencer Reid, I was def picturing the vibes of The Pretty Reckless and In This Moment for the kind of band reader is the frontwoman of, reader plays the bass guitar because I always wanted to play bass when I was younger lol. Very short outro cuz I felt like it was getting a little too long lol, p.s. yes the title is a one direction song, fight me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
TW: sub!spencer, mommy kink, established relationship, lots of teasing, playfully mean dom!reader, degradation, pet names, unprotected sex, penetration, afab + fem reader, slight alcohol mention, cum eating, oral sex (reader receiving), handjob, typical criminal minds level violence at the beginning.
Rating: R, 18+
——
You were a force of nature. Spencer knew that from the moment the team walked into that concert venue in search of a serial killer targeting high profile rock musicians. Your voice captivated him, strong melodies reverberating inside his mind, snaking around his every thought, he was hypnotized like a sailor drawn to your siren song.
When the unsub ran on stage and held a knife to your throat, Spencer’s heart stopped, until you used the headstock of your bass to uppercut the criminal, forcing him to drop the knife and stumble back into your bandmate’s drum set. You weren’t going to wait for someone to rescue you no matter what you were ordered to do, your fate was in no one’s hands but your own.
That was the moment Spencer knew he had to have you, and he’d do whatever it took to see you as often as possible. He spent the next six months bouncing back and forth across the country, from whatever state the latest case was in to wherever your next tour stop was. He couldn’t get enough of you.
Now, as he waited anxiously on your tour bus with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand ready to surprise you, he found his mind wandering back to every dirty encounter the two of you had leading up to this. He catered to your every whim, falling to his knees to eat you out whenever you asked, in your dressing room before a show, in the bathroom on the moving tour bus, even side stage right after you’d just finished performing, smelling like smoke and sweat, ripping your fishnets so he could devour your cunt on top of an amp.
What the two of you had was utterly filthy, and he loved every second of it. You hadn’t given him the pleasure of properly fucking you yet, but that’s not to say you disregarded his pleasure all together, far from it. You loved to let him put on a show for you, sitting on the bench across from him on the bus as you watched his brow furrow, his large hand fisting his cock impossibly slowly as you talked him through masturbation, reveling in the way he whimpered when you finally gave him permission to cum, shooting a massive load all over his lightly toned stomach.
He felt free with you, like he could lull the constant noise in his head for a short while and just be whatever you wanted in the moment, whether that be a loving boyfriend who’d hold you and let you bitch to your heart's content about your in-ears malfunctioning during the show, or a mere tool for your pleasure, he was content.
But right now, he was really, really hoping you’d use him like your own personal sex toy.
-
You raised your bass in the air, screaming an enthusiastic ‘goodnight!’ into your mic before running off stage, desperate to rip your clothes off and cool down after sweating your ass off under the stage lights for the last hour and a half.
You handed off your gear to the sound techs before saying congratulatory goodbyes to your band mates, making as close to an irish exit as you could, shaking off any fleeting guilt you had about it knowing you’d do the whole thing over again together in a couple days when you arrived in the next city.
You grabbed your bag from your dressing room, taking a couple snacks for the road from the basket the venue provided in accordance with your rider before heading out to the bus, ready to take a cold shower as soon as possible. You yanked open the bus door handle, climbing the short steps into the central seating area, nearly dropping your bag when you finally saw him.
“Spence!” You cheered, a little too giddy to see your boy wonder. You quickly tossed your bag aside and straddled his lap, taking his face in your hands and crashing your lips to his in an open-mouthed kiss. Your tongue danced with his, desperate to taste him after two weeks of no physical content. Spencer had sent you as many tribute videos as you’d asked for while you were apart, but it just wasn’t the same as getting to feel him.
When you pulled away, the deep red of your lipstick was smeared across his plush lips, and you would’ve giggled if the sight hadn’t turned you on so much. He really was so pretty, you absolutely understood why his teammates nicknamed him pretty boy. You kissed him one more time on the cheek, placing a perfect kiss print on his soft skin before reaching for the flowers he’d brought you. You took in the fresh floral scent, admiring the flora for a moment before thanking him and getting up to put the stems in the neck of an empty liquor bottle in lieu of a vase.
“I’ve missed you.” He sighed, wrapping his arms around your waist as he watched your handiwork over your shoulder.
“Not more than I missed you.” You challenged, setting the makeshift floral arrangement on the small countertop. You turned to face him, your platform boots putting you right at his eyeline. He may have been taller than you but that didn’t stop the hold you had over him.
“It doesn’t have to be a competition.” He laughed, pulling you closer.
“But it does Spence, do you know how many times I got off stage and wished you were there to see the killer show we put on?” You were earnest, something only he seemed to be able to pull out of your usually headstrong facade.
“Ah, every show you put on is extraordinary, watching you is transcendent, you’re otherworldly up there, even on what you consider your bad days.” He praised, showering you with his famously flowery language. You felt a special appreciation for it, because despite the messy rocker chick stereotype, you held a life-long love of literature close to your heart.
“God, you are so whipped!” You teased, lightly pushing at his chest. Despite your deflection, the blush creeping across your cheeks showed him just how much his words meant to you.
“Maybe, but I know you love it.” He called your bluff and the back and forth was starting to stir something in you that needed attention, now.
“You know what I missed the most?” You asked, unable to keep your eyes off of his mouth.
“What?” He knew where you were going with this but needed to hear the words from your perfect lips.
“Seeing you cum all over your stomach live and in person.” Your sultry tone sent blood rushing straight to his cock, eidetic memory pulling clips of your mutual masturbation to the front of his mind.
“W-what if I came somewhere else tonight?” He stumbled over his words, having a hard time maintaining eye contact as he asked the awkwardly worded question.
“Like where?” You played dumb, exaggeratingly tilting your head and twirling your hair around your finger.
“Inside you.” He whispered, gaze locked on the wall behind you.
“Hmm I didn’t quite hear that, can you repeat it for me?”
“Inside you, I want to fuck you.” He blurted out, lipstick-stained cheeks burning bright red in embarrassment. You took his chin between your fingers, forcing him to look at you as you pondered your next move.
“I have a mountain of fan mail full of guys begging for the opportunity to fuck me, what makes you think you deserve it more than any of them?” You prompted, watching the way his features contorted in reaction to your somewhat harsh question.
“You’re being mean.” Tears started to well up in his eyes, brown irises glazing over as a lump formed in his throat. Despite how sad the thought made him, it also had his bulge straining even harder against his pants than it already had been.
“I know baby, but you’ve gotta prove how badly you want this, I’m not just going to give you the privilege without earning it.”
You could see the wheels turning in his head, no doubt debating what he could do to demonstrate his worth to you. His demeanor started to shift, holding eye contact as his shoulders straightened, practically puffing out his chest.
“I think I’ve already proven myself to you, given that you’ve cum on my tongue more times than you could count.” This sudden surge of confidence from Spencer was unexpected, but something about it had you hungrier for him than ever.
“Fair, although I do think that eidetic memory of yours gives you an unjust advantage.” You teased, a small smirk forming at the corner of his mouth. You took a step forward, closing what small gap was left between the two of you before bringing your hand to graze over his bulge. He let out a breathy whimper, pupils dilating as you applied slight pressure to his almost painfully hard member.
“I’ll do whatever you want, I just need you to touch me.” He breathed, bucking into your hand. You began to undo his belt, pushing him back until he fell back onto the leather bench. You loomed over him, low cut top giving him a face full of cleavage as you worked to slide his pants down just enough to free his aching cock. You moved to straddle his lap, sitting back on his thighs to leave ample space to toy with his member.
“Can you be a good boy for me?” You purred, starting to pump your spit-covered hand up and down his shaft.
“God yes.”
“Yes, what?” You stared him down, watching his lips part with a gentle moan.
“Yes Mommy.” The groan ripped from his throat, prominent veins framing his adam's apple.
“That’s right baby, let mommy take care of you.” You kissed his cheekbone, then his jawline, admiring the way your crimson lipstick contrasted against his pale complexion as you worked your hand over his cock, feeling every curve and contour of his thick veins against your palm.
“Take off your shirt.” You ordered, your free hand skirting under his layered vest and button-up to feel his abdominal muscles flex with every shallow breath he took. He did his best to quickly undress, lifting the vest over his head before shaky hands began unbuttoning each adornment, finally shaking off the garment and exposing his bare chest.
You trailed your kisses down his neck, peppering lip prints across his chest, stopping periodically to suck and nip until dark red and purple bruises bloomed over his skin. You could tell he was holding back, front teeth biting into his bottom lip to stifle his sighs.
“Spencer, I need to hear you.” You bring your hand to a stop, waiting for him to release his lip from the bite before starting up your movements again. You brought your other hand down to cup his balls, gently massaging them as you increased your speed, rotating your wrist to maximize the stimulation against his increasingly sensitive shaft.
The moans and whimpers falling from his lips grew louder, his mind abandoning all inhibitions as his approaching orgasm clouded his judgment.
“You’re so loud, the rest of the band is in the bus right next to ours, do you want them to hear how big of a whore you’re being right now?” You teased, snapping him out of his love-drunk stupor.
“I-I thought you wanted me to-“ He stuttered out, brows furrowed in confusion.
“You’re right sweet boy, I want them to hear exactly how good I make you feel.” You cut him off, a wicked grin spread across your face as you focused your movements on the tip of his cock, your thumb smearing the pre-cum dripping from his slit all over the swollen head. His moan caught in his throat, breathing becoming increasingly labored until one final twist of your hand had him falling over the edge.
“Mommy!” He cried out, his thighs flexing as thick ropes of cum painted his stomach. You slowed your movements just slightly, milking him for all he has. You took your free hand and picked up some of his spend on your fingers before bringing them to his parted lips, prompting him to suck them clean. He does as he’s told, utterly shameless about everything he does for you.
“You’re such an obedient slut Spencer, I love it.” You praised, pulling him into another heated kiss. You pulled away, watching him catch his breath and look at you like you hung the stars in the night sky.
“I think you’re ready for me, if you’re up for it.” His eyes went wide at your proposal, his heart feeling as though it could beat right out of his chest.
“Yes, yes, I just need a minute.” He panted, his cock already semi-hard again.
“Take your time sugar, I’m gonna take a quick shower.” You patted his cheek before rising off of his lap and walking to the small bus bathroom, stripping out of your black latex mini dress and shredded fishnets to wash off the sweat and body shimmer from your time on stage tonight. You didn’t bother removing your makeup, too excited to finally have Spencer’s perfect cock inside of you to waste any time.
He didn’t need to know how badly you wanted him, the cat and mouse game the two of you played was unlike anything you’d ever had before and it beyond satisfied you to know how much power you willingly held over him, and how much pleasure you mutually received from it.
When you finished scrubbing down you made your way to your small bedroom at the back of the bus, finding Spencer ready and waiting for you on your bed. He was laying nude on top of the comforter, messy strands of hair resting against his forehead, pillow sitting in his lap as he propped himself up on his elbows to watch for you.
“You’re so beautiful.” He greeted you, watching as you rubbed body lotion over your skin. When you reached your chest, you spent a little extra time kneading the lotion into your breasts, putting on a bit of a show for him. He loved all of you, that much you were sure of, but he always had a special appreciation for your breasts.
He’d find any opportunity to lay his head on your chest while you laid in bed together on your off days, watching Doctor Who and nerding out over through lines and plot holes alike. It was days like those that had you really falling for him, your souls finding ways to both mesh with and contradict each other in a perfect harmony.
“You’re too sweet to me.” You smiled at him, rubbing the last bit of lotion into your skin before walking to the end of the bed. You reached forward, observing as his eyes went straight to your chest when you bent over to pull the pillow away from his lap. His cock stood straight up, bobbing slightly. A deep blush creeped over his cheeks, his shyness endearing, especially given that you had just had your hand wrapped around him twenty minutes ago.
“Do you want to be on top, sweetheart?” The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind, he just figured you’d be the one in control of the whole thing, but the thought of hovering over you, getting to have a perfect view of your hair all splayed out over the pillows, your face contorted in pleasure, had goosebumps rising over his skin.
“If that’s what you want.” He surrendered, always looking to please you. You nodded, climbing onto the bed to lay down, waiting for him to reposition himself between your legs. He knelt there, reaching to grab the pillow from the end of the bed, bringing it behind your thighs. You understood what he was silently requesting, lifting your hips to allow him to slide the pillow underneath.
“Where’d you learn that, wonder boy?” You giggled, propping yourself up by your elbows to watch him.
“I read that it can ease the tension on the lower back created by repeated movement during intercourse, I want you to be comfortable.” He explained, bleeding heart showing once again. You nodded, smiling at him. His fingers slid up your thigh, pausing at the apex before dipping into your folds, his digits welcomed by your warm arousal.
“Y-you’re so wet already.” The look of amazement on his face amused you, as if he was somehow completely unaware that you were, in fact, truly attracted to him.
“Spencer, believe it or not, I actually do enjoy our time together.” You teased, raising your knees to your chest to give him a better view of your cunt. His features softened, your joking easing his nerves as he prepared himself for what he was about to do.
“Can I start?” He asked, positioning his hips just above yours.
“Yes baby, go slow.” You locked eyes with him, pushing a strand of hair away from his face. He brought his cock to your cunt, rubbing the head through your folds before tapping it against your clit a few times, making absolutely positive that you were relaxed enough. He positioned his head at your entrance, slowly pushing forward until his head popped into your welcoming hole.
“Stop.” You commanded, voice firm. His eyes widened in panic, freezing his movements.
“W-what’s wrong? Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” He rambled, fear in his tone.
“I’m okay Spencer, I just want you to stay like that until I say otherwise.” He could hear the amusement in your tone and although he was no longer concerned, confusion quickly replaced it.
“Why?” He questioned, apprehensively obeying your request.
“I’m just doing whatever I want, just like you asked me to. I want to see if you can resist your urges.” He was almost annoyed, knowing that this was another one of your power plays, but the shiver that ran up his spine told you he was enjoying this just as much as you were.
So he stayed there, wincing every time you clenched your pelvic muscles around his tip, trying to break him. You knew it wouldn’t work, he was the definition of obedient, but it was oh so fun to watch him squirm in anticipation. After a good five minutes you decided you’d had enough, ready to let him fill you.
“You are so deliciously pathetic.” You laughed lightly, pulling him down into a kiss. You felt him smile against your lips, his hand snaking up your stomach to grope your breast. Your nipple hardened against his palm, drawing a low moan from your throat.
“Move, Spencer.” You finally gave him permission, your hand tangling in his messy locks. He pushed further into you, his thick girth stretching your walls in a way that had you begging for more.
“So tight.” He moaned, pausing to just feel the way your pussy hugged him before pulling out and thrusting quickly back into you, his eyes shut tight in concentration.
“Look at me.” You moaned, needing to see the pleasure in his beautiful eyes. His eyelids fluttered open, catching your gaze as he found a steady rhythm inside of you. Each thrust of his hips made the filthiest sound, wet slapping skin mixing with both of your moans, his whines and whimpering music to your ears.
The pillow beneath you made for the perfect angle, allowing the veins on this cock to rub deliciously against your sweet spot. He grabbed the side of your face, his mouth practically devouring you as he swallowed your moans. When we pulled away, a string of spit connecting your lips fell to your chest, and without hesitation he dipped his head down to lick it up, repeating your earlier actions as me marked your chest, working his way to your breasts.
He increased his speed, pumping in and out of you at an animalistic pace, his mouth finding your nipple and sucking hungrily. You threw your head back into the pillows, your hands finding his back and your acrylics digging into his delicate skin. You scratched up his back, surely drawing blood and for a split second you worried you’d taken it too far, until he moaned loudly against your chest.
“I’m gonna cum.” He panted, shifting so his face was above yours again. He looked to you for permission, but you weren’t going to let him off that easily.
“No, not until you beg for it.” You told him, digging your nails into his back again. He slowed his pace just slightly, his free hand finding your clit and rubbing quickly over it, hoping it would soften your conviction just a little.
“Please let me cum, I need it.” He weakly pleaded, his actions growing increasingly desperate.
“Come on baby, I know you can do better than that.” You encouraged him, rocking your hips to meet his thrusts. He whimpered, hanging his head for a moment to center himself.
“Please Mommy!” He groaned, watching your tits bounce with every thrust.
“Do it, fill up Mommy’s cunt Spencer.” You finally allowed him to let go, getting in a few more hard thrusts before his hips stuttered, his cock twitching and coating your walls with his warm cum. The feeling of his warmth deep inside coupled with his hand on your clit sent you over the edge, every nerve in your body on fire as the tension in your core dispersed through your body, the pleasure washing over you in waves.
When you both came down from your highs, Spencer collapsed face down on the bed next to you, his head turned to face you.
“I love you.” He whispered, half hoping he’d said it low enough that you hadn’t heard.
“I love you too, Spence.” You returned the favor, any fear he had immediately dissipating with the mutual confession.
——
Tag List: @pleasantwitchgarden @lover-of-books-and-tea
DM me or send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my general or spencer reid taglist :)
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augustinewrites · 1 year
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“i sent a text,” you mutter to yourself as you push and hold the door open with your foot. “and yet nobody came down to help me with the groceries.” 
you push the door shut with your elbow, turning around to see why exactly no one had answered your text. the three of them are sat at the dining table. megumi’s staring at the table, tsumiki’s staring at a painting on the wall, and satoru's glaring at the pile of phones in front of him.
“what is going on?” you ask, setting your bags on the countertop. 
“family meeting,” satoru answers, still glaring at the phones.
“really?” you ask, pulling out your chair to join them. “last time you called a family meeting, you wanted to discuss whether or not you could pull off an earring.” 
“that was a short conversation,” megumi quips.
“hey, i’m still confident that you’re all wrong and i’d totally rock an earring,” he tells you. “but that’s not what this is about. this is about tsumiki.” 
“oh,” you say, surprised by this turn of events. “i thought megumi got in trouble at school again.”
“he did.” 
“i did.” 
figures. you’d address that later. 
“and that’s why i was at their school, where i saw tsumiki about to skip class with - get this - with her boyfriend, who none of us knew existed.”
you exhale a heavy breath. “oh…” 
but your reaction must be too mild for your fiancé, who sends you a funny look. “‘oh?’ that’s a little light. she has a boyfriend that none of us knew about!”
an uncomfortable silence falls over the table. satoru looks at megumi, who looks at tsumiki, who looks at you. 
you actively work to avoid his gaze, further incriminating yourself.
“wait…do you know something?”
“can i talk to you for a second?” you ask, nodding your head toward the kitchen. he follows you over, but not before telling the kids not to touch their phones. 
“how are we handling this?” he asks, pacing back and forth with a deeply conflicted look on his face. you don’t think you’ve even seen him look this serious about something before. “‘cause i know i’m usually the fun parent and you usually bring the heat when it comes to punishments, but i’m already there, babe! she’s grounded. phone, gone! food, maybe! and she is forbidden from seeing this boy for–  till– till she’s in college.”
“satoru–”
“i can’t believe she didn’t tell us she had a boyfriend,” he mutters, not finished yet. “who is this kid, anyway? her boyfriend?” you roll your eyes when he even gags on the word.
“okay, okay,” you laugh nervously, rubbing your hands up and down his arms. “do you promise that you’re not going to freak out if i tell you something?”
“no.”
“fair enough,” you agree. “uh…i met her boyfriend.” his eyes widen, but you press a finger to his lips before he can say anything. “hold on! she only told me a couple of days ago because they just started dating two weeks ago. she was going to tell you, i promise.”
“but she’s too young to have—”
“satoru, keeping apart kids that are in love never works out for the people keeping them apart.” you loop your arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips. “imagine if someone had told you that you couldn’t date me.”
“yeah, i know,” he grumbles. “i guess i’m just hurt that she didn’t tell me right away. we have a connection, you know. like you and megumi. last week when we went out for our weekly ice cream gossip session, she didn’t say a thing!” 
“you guys have weekly gossip sessions?”
“uh, yeah. as if you and megumi don’t talk shit about us illiterates whenever you go to the bookstore.” 
“i think we’re getting off track,” you deflect with a huff. “what are we going to do about the situation at hand?”
_____
at the sound of a knock on the door, tsumiki bursts out of her room. “i’ll get it!”
“be cool,” you tell satoru, who scoffs as he fixes his hair.
“i’m cool. the coolest. i’m like ice.” 
“i’m serious,” you grit as tsumiki pulls the door open. “do not be weird right now.”
you smile as tsumiki introduces you both, taking the bouquet of flowers that her boyfriend offers you.
“dinner’s almost ready, so make yourself at home in the meantime,” you tell him, filling a vase with water. 
“in the living room, preferably,” gojo adds stiffly. where tsumiki shoots him a look, he holds his hands up in surrender. “we’ll be in the kitchen, you’ll have plenty of privacy.”
“the kitchen and the living room are the same room,” she mutters.
“then you can pretend that we’re not even here,” he says, tone light. then, after a moment. “but remember that we will be here. the whole time.”
“okay, you need to take all of that and put it away,” you tell him sternly, handing him a stack of plates to put on the table. “welcome to the real world, babe. this is what raising teenagers is all about.”
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alastorss · 4 months
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AAAA ITS GOOD TO HAVE YOU BACK!
I love your characterization of Alastor sm ❤️❤️❤️
Could I request reader dropping dead things (people/body parts, deer, etc.) at his door/radio tower? No note, just corpses. He’s gotta figure out who tf if dropping these for him.
a/n: thank you, it's so good to be back!! i really appreciate you and everyone for being so welcoming :')) <3
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
"You've been doing what?!"
"I didn't think it was so bad... You're the one who wanted me to make friends!"
Charlie only gawks at you, tugging at the ends of her hair in stress. The Princess of Hell paces back and forth across the room, slowly piecing together why Alastor has been in such a foul mood lately.
"So you thought the best way to make friends with the Radio Demon was to leave dead bodies at his doorstep?"
"He loves dead bodies."
"Yeah, to eat them! Oh god, what kind of message have you been sending to him?" She babbles on, exasperated and flinging her hands around in a panic. "He must think you're threatening him or something!"
"Well..." you make some sort of constipated expression and Charlie stops dead in her tracks. "He might not know they've been from me."
"You've been leaving them anonymously?" The Princess squeaks, unsure of whether that makes it infinitely better or infinitely worse. "What was even the point then?"
"I get nervous!" You argue, flopping back on the couch and laying an arm over your eyes. "I was going to tell him eventually."
Alastor was a different breed of terrifying. He could silence a room just by breathing in it. The wailing souls in his broadcast were enough to command that sort of attention.
When Charlie had given you the task of making friends as a part of her "redemption project" you had assumed he was exempt from the list. He was, after all, fairly secluded despite his cheery demeanour. Very few had ever managed to become his companions.
However, your hopes of avoiding him had been flushed down the drain when you accidentally bumped into each other on the way out on your very first day.
He gave you a look over, scrutinizing you from head to toe until your cheeks burned. Then, demanded something very simple of you:
"Welcome! Please, do entertain me."
His first and, as of today, last words he ever spoke to you. Sure, your methods were a little unorthodox, but you had asked Husk for advice and Alastor's cannibalistic tendencies were as much as the bartender was willing to spill.
When you don't receive any response, you peel your arm away to peer at your friend. She makes another two laps around the coffee table before her face lights up.
"I've got it!"
"I don't like that look on your face—"
"Come on," she laughs, pulling you by the wrists. "You just have to be honest. And make sure he knows you're not trying to kill him!"
"How am I supposed to do that?" You ask nervously. "You just told me he's been in a worse mood than usual."
A sinister smile that could only belong to the daughter of the devil creeps its way across her lips.
Dread. All you feel is terrible dread.
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
As much as Alastor enjoys a good meal, this is becoming excessive.
It must be the seventh or eighth body this week. And, as usual, there is no note. No indication of why there's a corpse or a deer head or a rabbit's foot at his door. He can't even sniff out any traces of a soul being here.
He hates charity.
Not even because he does not need it, but because the anonymity is making him think they're gifts of pity. That, or it's a threat on his life. Either way, he loathes the idea that someone is looking down on him.
The demon needs to get to the bottom of this soon. Paranoia is not common for him, but the anxious bubbling in his chest is unmistakable. Whoever keeps leaving the bodies at his door is meticulously clean when they kill. He would hate to be on the receiving end of the blade.
Just as he's about to dump the body in his swamp for later, there's a knock on his bedroom door. He hesitates.
No, he isn't afraid of whoever is on the other side of the door. However, if there were a fight, he would need to get his suit tailored again and he simply doesn't have the time for that today.
He takes slightly too long to decide whether or not the person on the other side of the wall is a threat, because soon enough his ears pick up the sound of retreating footsteps.
Alastor swings the doors open so fast that you yelp.
At first he's confused why you refuse to turn around to look at him. Lacking common manners—he'll have to bring that up to you later. Then, he's confused on why you've shown up to his door at all.
"May I help you, dear?"
A chill creeps down your spine. Charlie and her ideas... they would be the death of you. Preferably today. Right now.
"I didn't mean to disturb you!" You stammer, still not looking at him.
Alastor raises a brow before popping up behind you from the shadows. You squeak, clutching somehing to your chest and shielding it from his gaze. He does a loop around your body and you spin around to keep the item hidden. The Radio Demon narrows his eyes.
"Are you hiding something?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
You do another spin as he tries to get a peek of what's in your hands.
"You wouldn't lie to me, would you?" He feigns offense. Again, another spin.
"Of course not!"
"You see, I very much don't enjoy being lied to. Last time I caught a scoundrel in my midst, I cracked them open like a—"
"Okay, okay!" You suddenly burst out. You turn so slow that Alastor feels himself holding his breath.
When he finally sees what you've been so insistent on hiding, he snickers. Impolitely, mind you.
"Don't laugh," you whine, squeezing the bouquet closer to your chest. Amongst the flowers are little pieces of death—fingers, eyes, ears.
Charlie had decided that one step back in your redemption by collecting body parts like this would result in three steps forward. She allowed it, just this once.
"Are these for me?" He purrs, leaning down until his face is in yours. You'd been warned before that Alastor had no concept of personal space, but you can't help the way it robs the air in your lungs.
"Please don't get the wrong idea," you strain in embarrassment. "I just wanted to say... I'm sorry. For leaving all those bodies here. I didn't mean for it to come across as insulting."
The demon blinks at you in stunned silence for a few moments before he cackles, standing back to let you breathe again. "Why, of course! No hard feelings, darling."
"Really?" You lighten up with a sigh of relief.
"Your little gifts have kept me on my toes," he assures. "Perhaps not my idea of entertainment, but the effort was there."
"I'm glad to hear that," you smile. "Charlie was worried you wouldn't accept my apology or want to be friends."
You seem to catch yourself, eyes going wide as you shake your head.
"N-Not that I'm assuming this means we can be friends!"
Alastor only laughs again, gentler this time. "No need to be so jumpy. I don't bite," he muses. "And tell the Princess she has nothing to worry about."
He takes the bouquet from you, hands lingering over yours for a fraction longer than he meant for them to.
"I would love to be your friend."
~
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nagichi-boop · 1 year
Text
SHADOW IS WRITTEN SO WELL IN THE MURDER OF SONIC THE HEDGEHOG!!
First of all, just him showing up to Amy’s party is a step up from his recent “I will do everything myself, I hate everyone, imma fight you” attitude that we have seen. Secondly, and idk if it was intentional, but him attending shows he cares about Amy. He’s always had a special place for her after the events of SA2, so it’s nice to see him showing up for something that maybe isn’t his style for her sake. (Parties aren’t really his thing, after all.)
SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT
It’s also really sweet of him to go through so many lengths to try and get Amy’s present. I definitely don’t think he forgot to get her a present, he genuinely just didn’t seem to know that it was a social norm to bring presents to a birthday. If he really didn’t care, he either wouldn’t have gotten her anything or he would’ve given her a rushed gift. But no, he went through a lot of effort, basically foregoing the game, just to stall Amy so he could get her a present she would enjoy.
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And not just any present - he remembered her mentioning a specific band she liked and that she hadn’t seen them live. This not only suggests he listens to her and remembers what she tells him, but also implies that he has had multiple conversations with her. Clearly he must have also done some research too since he knew that the tickets were going live soon. He thought this through, even if it was a bit last minute, and did his best to get the tickets (even though he admits to not being the best with computers, which is also nice because usually Shadow just insists he’s the best at everything). I also think it was sweet that he didn’t heavily protest Amy’s suggestion to see the band together. He hesitated, but then yielded. This…for a character who recently has been written to be quite selfish.
He seemed upset that he couldn’t keep this a surprise, but he also didn’t become enraged or lash out at Tails and MC/Barry. In fact, he didn’t really lash out at anyone at any point which is refreshing, since in most Sonic media that’s his go-to emotion.
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Most of his expressions throughout the game are fairly gentle in fact. Sure, he doesn’t smile, but he also isn’t actively angry. And the one expression where he does seem a bit negative just seems like his resting expression, or at absolute worse just a little annoyed. He’s very mellow throughout the game and it’s refreshing.
Even after he has finished talking to Amy, Tails and MC/Barry, he offers to stay with them and help them with the investigation. Normally in Sonic media, Shadow has no interest in helping others and only really cooperates if there’s a mutual goal/interest. And even then, he tends try to do things on his own. But in this game? He actually cooperates, and what’s more, he goes out of his way to offer his help.
So far I’ve mostly talked about his attitude towards Amy. But what’s his attitude towards Sonic? People debate back and forth on whether Shadow hates Sonic and the recent games and media have made it seem like he does hate Sonic. But in this game? I wouldn’t say so. I mean, he’s literally hanging out with him and his friends and instead of having beef with Sonic, he just focused on making Amy happy. And even when the situation gets more dire and Sonic is found to be knocked out, he doesn’t make any snarky comments or anything. In fact, he actually helps to tend to Sonic’s condition, even if it was just checking his pulse. If he rly didn’t care, he would’ve left it to everyone else.
Man, I could talk for hours about Shadow in this game. I can’t believe this April Fools prank game is actually the best characterisation for Shadow we’ve had recently. He’s not overly aggressive, he isn’t selfish, he isn’t super edgy. He is still sorta cold, but he’s not rude or mean. He’s actually really kind (in his own way), putting his needs and desires on hold to make Amy’s birthday fun and to help everyone out. I seriously hope that Shadow is written more like this in the future and not like he has been. Maybe Sega wasn’t joking about taking on board the complaints of the fandom.
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tojiscumdumpster · 8 months
Text
⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။ knockout x renji abarai
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✧ summary there’s no better way for renji to celebrate a big win than to spend the night with y/n.
✧ content warnings reader described as a black woman who uses she/pronouns. feisty!reader, chubby!reader x undergroundfighter!renji. modern au — no bleach verse. told in first POV — renji’s. mentions of stitches and bruises. usage of profanity, praise kink, cowgirl position, nipple play, facefucking — renji will finish in reader’s, squirting. terms of endearment — baby, sweetheart, angel, etc. reader and renji are in their late twenties.
✧ author’s note hello, hello. i am here with a fic that’s not jjk for once in my life, lmfao. this idea has been in my drafts since january 2023, and it was just sitting there collecting dusts on my old tumblr. but i said i was going to do more bleach characters, so here we go. first time writing renji, so if this ain’t how you see him, oops. still enjoy. also didn't really focus on the underground!fighter portion as much. but maybe i will if there's a next time. support me by liking, commenting, and reblogging this post. i would greatly appreciate it. AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS AND MINORS— DO NOT INTERACT.
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I know she told me not to come by after the fight, but I needed to. 
 I won.
 I fucking won, and there’s no other way for me to celebrate winning ten thousand dollars than to be with Y/N.
 Well, that’s if she’s still not mad at me.
 Before I left for my match, we got into an argument. A huge one. She doesn’t like that I fight for a living, let alone illegal underground fighting. I mean—I get it. Seeing someone you care about constantly getting his ass beat isn’t a sight worth seeing. 
 But fighting is all I know. 
 I had a shitty childhood. Didn’t know who the hell my parents were since they gave me up at birth for adoption. Jump around in foster care homes until the mothers got sick of me and kicked me out in the streets. Survival was basically forced on me.
 Fighting is what kept me alive. For food. Clothes. A place to lay my head. Whether I lost or won, I know the reason why I’m alive today is because I’m a fighter. 
 It wasn’t until I was eighteen when I found out about the world of underground fighting. Ten years deep and I know nothing else. 
 Y/N knows this about me. She understands I didn’t have it easy and never judged me. But that doesn’t mean she agrees with my lifestyle. 
 She came to a few fights in the beginning. Eventually, she got tired of seeing me stitched up almost every weekend. 
 Shit, me too. 
 However, after tonight, I feel good about my future wins. I busted my ass in training, so now I don’t have to hear shit about anymore losses. 
 Even if right now I’m stitched up and have a black eye. I feel good.
 Great.
 Better if Y/N opens the door after keeping me waiting out in the cold for the past ten minutes. 
 I know she’s awake. She has a habit of staying up late, studying for med school. And plus, I haven’t messaged or called her yet. Despite her not showing up to my fights, she still wants an update afterwards that I made it out alive.
 “Y/N, let me in,” I say, knocking loudly on her apartment door. “You know I don’t care about making a scene.”
 After a few more obnoxious knocks, the door finally swings open and I am met with deep russet skin, tight curls, and chocolate-colored eyes that pierce an annoyed look in my direction.
 “What do you want?” She bites out. “I’m busy.”
 I smirk and hold the bag of money in the air. “I won.”
 “Congrats.” Her tone is flat and she tries to slam the door in my face, but I placed my foot to stop it from closing. “Seriously?”
 “Yes, seriously. Are you really still mad at me?” I teasingly ask. 
 “You won. I said congrats. What more do you want?”
 I shrugged. “I’m locked out of my apartment.”
 She arches a brow at me, already recognizing my bullshit ass excuse of being locked out of my apartment. 
 Y/N knows me. She knows I would do anything to be in her presence, so going back and forth in forty degree weather is pointless. 
 Her pretty brown hues travels across my face and body, examining the stitches and bruises that probably has her wondering, who the fuck treated him? 
 Me. But that’s besides the point.
 A deep sign escapes her mouth when she realizes I’m not going anywhere until she lets me in, so she opens her door wider and turns her back to me to walk further inside her apartment. 
 “Sit,” she orders, which I happily do so while chuckling to myself. 
 While Y/N goes to the bathroom (assuming she’s getting a med kit to fix my shitty patch job), I take advantage of staring at her round ass that’s barely covered in those tiny boy shorts. Every step she takes it jiggles, creating an ocean of waves I’m eager to swim in.
 I get comfortable while I wait, taking off my skully, sweater, and any other form of heavy clothing that would cause me to sweat in her heated apartment. 
 “I’m going to start charging you if you keep fucking coming to my apartment like this, Renji,” Y/N snapped, walking with the kit in her hand as expected. 
 “Outside of paying for your tuition, I can think of other ways to repay you.”
 She rolls her eyes at my suggestive comment. “Get over yourself, Abarai.”
 I let out a snort before she stands in front of me and tilt up my chin to start making work on my face. 
 She’s cute when she’s mad. Huffing and puffing while whispering slick comments under breath. But how she’s handling my face by moving it around with force rushes blood straight to my groin.
 I’m getting hard.
 Hard as shit, and it’s not helping that I’m in close proximity with her. 
 That jasmine lavender scent that circulates through my senses. Looking up at her full lips that’s coated with gloss. Then, lowering my gaze to her tits that’s big, naturally saggy, and pretty. My mouth is watering at the sight of her nipples hardening.
 And I don’t know if it’s because she feels that I’m checking her out or the coldness outside is affecting her. 
 Either way, I’ll act on it.
 Taking it upon myself, I grab the back of her thighs to pull her on my lap. As if she’s used to my antics, it doesn’t catch her off guard and she continues to clean up my wounds. 
 “You’re all bloody up with a black eye and somehow you still have the energy to be a pervert,” she retorts.
 I move one of hands to her ass, massaging comforting circles. “For you? Yeah.”
 The quiet between us was comfortable until she opted to speak again. “So… who’d you fight?”
 “Some huge motherfucker. I thought I was going to die.”
 She leans back to grab more alcohol and dabs it above my brow. “Maybe that’s what needed to have you stop fucking fighting.”
 I throw my head back to laugh, but she grabs my chin to bring my face forward. “Like you want me dead.” My hands creep beneath her cheeks to pull her closer to me and apply more pressure to my cock. “That’s what you want?”
 “That came out my mouth, Abarai?”
 “Why are you still mad at me?” 
 She scoffs. “Why am I mad that you’re practically coming to me everyday with a busted face and broken ribs?” That’s one thing I love about Y/N—her feisty personality. It turns me on so fucking much because I know when I fuck her, it’ll be a different story. 
 Continuing, she says, “I think I would be a little more satisfied if you did this professionally as opposed to underground. Underground doesn’t come with insurance, Ren.”
 “Aw, you care about me that much?” My question was supposed to be posed as a joke, but the look on her pretty face says otherwise. 
 “Fucking asshole. I don’t know why I still deal with your ass.”
 “Probably because you love me.”
 “Probably not.”
  Gripping her hips, I pull her with me and lean back into the headrest of the couch. We’re inches away from our mouths cooling and I take advantage of this proximity by basking in her sweet smelling breath and beauty. 
 Simply because Y/N exists, my cocks hardens for her. Holding her in my arms. Feeling her pussy against my erection and breasts suffocating pressed on my chest. Girlfriend or not, she’s mine.  
 And she knows it. 
 I can see how she looks at me, even when mad, that she cares and loves me. Y/N is a tough girl. I can only imagine what she’s been through. Still, she manages to soften up just for me. 
 We never made it official since she doesn’t approve of the underground shit, but that doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop asking. 
 “So when are you going to say yes to being my girlfriend?” I whisper.
 She tries breaking from my embrace, but I tighten my grip. “Renji…”
 “You feel my dick pressed against you, right? It only makes it harder when you say my name like that, Y/N.”
 “Be real with me… will you keep doing this shit forever?” Her eyes waver as she awaits my answer and I can’t help the guilt from pinging my chest. 
 “If it lessens my chance of being with you, no.”
 She searches my face for hesitance or deceit, however, she finds nothing because I meant what I said. Y/N is the only person that looks at me like I’m a human, and I wouldn’t let my obsession with fighting get in the way of our future together. 
 How she tucks her coil behind her ear and nips down on her lower lip shows me the bit of vulnerability she reserves for me.
 So—I take advantage of it. 
 In less than three seconds my lips were on hers. I take my time relishing those sweet, plump and plush, strawberry flavored lips.
 I can feel the skepticism from Y/N while kissing her, maybe because she’s trying to put on this show that she’s still mad at me. But soon, her rigid body melts into mine and returns the kiss. 
 Our heavy breaths mingle, increasing in speed the more aggressive we lock lips. She begins rolling her hips onto my cock and I let out a grunt, feeling the moisture of her pussy liquefying on me. 
 The slaps I leave on her ass are harsh, causing her to bite my bottom lip and suck it into her mouth. Y/N is so fucking aggressive it drives me nuts. She gives me a high and adrenaline not even a fight could give. 
 “Pull your dick out, Ren,” she orders through muffled moans and our kiss. 
 “Fucking bossing me around to give you cock? Not mad at me anymore?” Y/N ignores my taunt and works her hands between us to untie my sweats. I hiss at the feel of her cool hands engulfing my dick to give it a few pumps.
 She must not know what her touch does to me. She handles my cock like she owns it, and gosh, I fucking love that shit. My fingers gently tangle into her coils to deepen our kiss, but she soon gets up to strip her clothes.
 Fuck… Fuck, she’s so goddamn sexy. I’ll never get tired of her thick body, filled with soft dips and curves. I look at her, observe her like she’s an expensive piece of art hung up at a museum because that’s what I see her as. 
 Pretty pussy leaking arousal and I smirk to myself, thinking how she had all that attitude earlier while being wet for me like she didn’t want me inside of her.
 “You’re fucking beautiful. You know that?” I ask, massaging her tits and looking up at her. “You still have that attitude or are you going to come ride my cock like a good girl?”
 She gently pushes me back against the couch with her lips on mine and straddles my lap. “Depends on if you’re going to be a good boy and take this pussy.”
 “Shit, angel. I will.”
 Y/N hums while reaching around to align my cock with her sex. Two seconds later, she slowly sinks down my length until I’m buried into the hilt. That soft lingering fuck that slips past her pretty lips sounds sexy as hell and has my dick twitching in response.
 I can’t bust now. Not yet. Even if the tightness and heat of her pussy pushes me off the edge of a mountain. Her pussy is so warm, so fucking warm, fat, and wet. Gosh, I don’t ever think I can be without this pussy. 
 I throw my head back and savor this feeling, but Y/N had other plans for me. 
 “Remember to look at me when I’m riding you, Ren,” she coos. “Eyes on me, baby. I want you to see how much I love this dick inside my pussy.”
 Fucking Christ. “Tell me how much you love it while bouncing on me.”
 And she does just that. Telling me how big and girthy I am, that she’s sorry for giving me attitude and admits that she just wanted dick. But no. I want her to fuck me like she’s mad. I need that type of energy pumping through my veins after this win tonight. 
 I reassure Y/N and tell her to fuck me harder. Her pace quickens and slaps her ass fervently against my cock. I can’t stop moaning her name. The wet slippery noises coming from her pussy increases in volume and it creates a mess between us. 
 This is where I belong, deep in her pussy and feeling her walls squeeze the hell out of me. I don’t even hold her hips or waist. I relax comfortably with my arms sprawl over the top of her couch, watching how gorgeous she looks while fucking what’s hers. 
 “Oh, fuck, Renji,” she moans, tugging her lips inwards and lolling her head to the side in complete pleasure.
 Those perfect, full tits bounces in my face and I can’t help but stare and become mesmerized. Light marks that resemble tiger stripes decorated the valley of breasts. Her nipples, pebbled and straining underneath my gaze, look desperate for my touch.
 I take it upon myself to pinch them between my fingers and a soft shriek escapes her mouth, further arching her back. 
 Y/N keeps getting wetter by the second, every bounce she makes. And hearing her sticky arousal, I know and see how she’s creaming my cock.  Purposely, I sit myself on the couch, thrusting up in her a bit to feel my head hit her g spot.
 “Ren, help me little,” she begs through a whimper. “Fuck me back.”
 I caress her cheeks with the back of my head. “Yeah? You want me to help you, sweetheart?”
 “Please.”
 God, I love it when she’s needy for me like this. 
 In no time, my hands are at her waist and my thrusts meet with her jumping movements. Y/N isn't loud when it comes to her sounds of pleasure. Vocal, yes. But right now, her moans and whimpers are louder than usual. 
 It’s like she needed my dick inside of pussy just as much as I needed it. 
 I see the desire in her brown hues. I feel the heat radiating off Y/N’s skin while my fingers dig into her flesh, holding her in place to pound upwards into her pussy. 
 This is what I wanted—to fuck my girl after a well deserved win. And she’s going to congratulate me how I want. 
 My lips are at her neck leaving wet kisses and sucking her flesh until purple specks form. “Coming home to this good fucking pussy. Gosh, I love how you feel, angel. Going to fucking mean it now when you say congrats?”
 “Congratulations, baby,” she purrs, slamming harder on my cock. “You did good… so damn good, Ren.”
 I hum, dragging my tongue along her neck. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”
 Y/N continues to gasps out her pleas for me to fuck harder. I comply… I comply in helping my pretty girl come and savor the look when she washes over me. My grips are firm on her waist, betting that’ll leave marks when she wakes up the next poor, and drive my cock deeper into her pussy.
 I’m in pure awe. I feel my own releasing catching up to me the more I watch her take me. This is my woman. My fucking girl. I come home to this every night after every fight to hold her in my arms and fuck her. 
 Her name from my mouth sounds like a broken record when I moan her name. This fat, gushy, slick and tight pussy has this power over me. She won’t stop fucking squeezing me, I can’t prevent my face from growing hot. It’s intense how I feel right now, and it’s all because of Y/N.
 “Good, good fucking pussy. God, you’re so fucking good to me, angel face,” I rasp, pecking her lips. “You’re going to come for me?”
 “Yes, Renji, baby. I’m going to come. Keep giving me that dick. Please don’t stop, please.”
 “Put your fingers in my mouth.” She does quick with my command. I suck on her digits and coat them well with saliva before pushing them out of my mouth. “Now rub your clit, pretty girl. I wanna see you squirt everywhere.”
 Because she’s overwhelmed with arousal, Y/N stops bouncing on my cock and allows me to fuck her while she plays with clit. Her mouth hangs gape, drool slightly coating the side of her mouth and breathing heavily. 
 My balls slap her ass. My head kisses her soft cushion repeatedly. Her velvet walls transfer warmth to my cock and the bubble that rests in the pit of my stomach is on the verge of explosion.
 I’m about to come. Hard.
 But I need her to come first.
 “Fucking come for me, Y/N. Keep playing with that pretty pussy and moan my name,” I grit out, pushing past all my thrusts. 
 “Right there, Renji. Keep fucking me right there… I’m–oh, fuck–I’m coming.”
 She’s so pretty when she comes. Dark brown porcelain complexion, slick with sweat. Eyes rolling to the back of her head. Pussy clenching and unclenching around my cock. Moaning, whimpering my name back to back. 
She’s breathless. Flawless. I have this image of her painted perfectly in my mind. Watching Y/N come, makes me come, so I make quick work to pull her off my lap. And she knows exactly what I want–to fuck my release down her throat.
 Her mouth is as warm as her pussy, and I let out hitched breaths and harsh grunts when she swallows me whole. I’m relentless when forcing her head down on my cock as I facefuck her. The gurgling noises she makes are obscene. Pornogrpahic, even. 
 And what caused my come to shoot through her mouth is seeing that she’s still massaging her clit, eventually squirting all over her wooden floors. 
 My hips stutter and I throw my head back to moan into the air. “Fuck, Y/N! That’s my fucking girl. Look at you making a mess while choking on my cock and swallowing my come.”
 Y/N takes it upon herself to wrap her lips tighter around my cock and massage my balls, ensuring every single last of my nut has released in her mouth. I take it for a while, but I soon become sensitive, practically feeling my skin being sucked off.
 “Easy now, angel,” I say through an airy chuckle. I pull my cock out and her mouth echoes a pop sound. 
 She whines a little because I’m no longer in her mouth and it causes me to smirk because it wasn’t too long ago where she acted like she hated me. 
 My hand grasps her chin and guides it upwards to meet with my eyes. “You swallowed for me, Y/N? Open up.” She nods, sticking her tongue out. “Perfect.”
 “You’re going to fuck me again?” She asks, catching her bottom lip between her teeth.”
 Gosh, this woman will be the death of me.
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tags: @dejwrld @hvshinas @diamondoidxx @xxjazzxx @thegirlwonder1 @ryukenzz @maiapuhpaia @elitesanjisimp @amyrahrose @sweetpeachies @abigolemess @linastired @diorsbrando @starrygetou @niya729 (if i didn't tag you it's because tumblr wouldn't have your user pop up)
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too-deviant · 6 months
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jackie and wilson.
previous | next masterlist
pairing: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader
summary: you haven't been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile
word count: 5.3k
content: fluffff, loser!reader, happy!luke if you squint and a sprinkle of loser!luke, brief mentions of suicide but nothing heavy, we finally find out which state reader is from
notes: this is so cute i love them.
PART III — she’s gonna save me, call me ‘baby’, run her hands through my hair
Wading through a misty green lake with Luke Castellan was not on your camp bucket list — something you’d produced with a young girl called Silena who you’d met in the arts and crafts cabin — but alas, here you were; knee deep in pond water and ankle deep in whatever sludge lived at the bottom, hands searching blindly along the floor while you tried your best to keep your chin dry. 
You probably wouldn’t have been there if you were any good at Volleyball — which really doesn’t make much sense with the given context. 
Okay, here’s what happened. It was Saturday at camp halfblood — and while you had been there for a solid three days now, you were yet to experience the joy of the weekends. Not that you knew they were any different, not until Travis Stoll approached you after breakfast. 
“Heyyyy, uh...newbie.” He chuckled, sidling up beside you while you were occupied with deciding whether your camp shirt was better tucked into your shorts or left hanging over them. 
You turned to the boy with an amused smile, reminding him of your name. He snapped his fingers at you, “I knew that. I did. I just prefer newbie.”
“What’s up, Travis?”
He dropped his finger guns, rocking back and forth on his feet and looking at you sheepishly, “Well, me and a few friends were gonna chuck a ball around on the beach and we need an extra player to make it even. Now that Luke’s not an option.” 
He muttered that last bit low and under his breath, not in hopes that you wouldn’t hear but in hopes that Luke wouldn’t — there was no telling how far he was from you at any given moment, but he wasn’t going to tell you that, so he just put on his charming Stoll Smile and said, “So, wanna join us?” 
You didn’t have anything to do that day, and since you’d assumed you were in for another long eight hours of finding out what you were good at and failing, a friendly game of ball (which you were safe to assume was volley, per what Luke told you yesterday) seemed like a great idea. 
Only it wasn’t — friendly, that is. You wandered over to the net set up on the beach with Travis at your side and a taller girl with curly blonde hair narrowed her eyes at you in suspicion, “How good are you at this?” 
“Uh —“ You shrugged, shaking your head slightly, “I’ve never played. We don’t have many beaches where I’m from.” 
“You don’t need a beach to play volleyball, newbie.” Connor Stoll appeared out of nowhere, grinning at you, “But it’s easy to pick up. You can be on our team.”
Their team consisted of Connor, Chris, Poppy from the Demeter cabin, Evie and Evan (twins from the Ares cabin) and now, yourself. Apparently it was a lost cause whenever the Stolls were on the same team, so Travis was on the other side of the net with the blonde girl from earlier — who’s name you’d learnt was Sabine, and who’s godly parent was Nike, which did not decrease your nerves even a little bit. 
“It’s pretty simple once you get the hang of it.” Evie explained to you once she noticed your unsure eyes. “Just don’t hit the ball twice in a row, Sab’s a stickler for that rule.” 
“Other than that, we’re pretty lax.” Her brother tagged on, smirking at you, “This isn’t the Olympics.” 
“Tell her that.” You side eyed the blonde on the other side of the net, who was cracking her knuckles and discussing strategy with Travis and Brynn, an Athena kid with a bright blue buzzcut. 
The twins let out identical chuckles, sharing a look before patting your shoulders, “You’ll be fine.” 
You didn’t have time to quip that the pair of them talking at the same time was a little foreboding before the game was on, and a volleyball was heading straight for you. 
To be fair to you, you lasted longer than expected. Maybe it was your battle instincts kicking in, but you hadn’t missed the ball once — sure, your defence lacked any real strategy and was more you hitting the ball in whatever direction and hoping for the best, but it was working, so why complain? You wouldn’t qualify for varsity, but at least you were one upping a Stoll brother — the same couldn’t be said for most campers, you knew that much. 
You actually thought you were getting pretty good, too. Your team was up by a few points (no thanks to you, all thanks to Evan. Seriously, he was like six foot four) and Sabine was getting angry. Every now and then she’d turn and scowl at Rhea, one of her teammates, and the girl would just shrug in response before returning to her position. But then, just when you started to get confident with it, Travis got you. 
Hard, too. You were paying close attention to your feet, making sure you didn’t trip over any sand when you had to move, and unfortunately didn’t notice the ball coming at you until it clipped you in the face. You went down onto your ass, both hands flying to your nose and groaning when you felt a warm trickle of blood slide through your fingers and down your hands. 
“Holy shit, newbie.” Travis sped over, dropping to his knees next to his brother and hovering over you, “I am so sorry, are you okay?” 
Your speech was muffled and nasally when you replied with a swift, “No, asshole!”
“Shit.” He muttered, looking between Connor and Evie, “Uh, I can take you to the infirmary if you want —“
“I’ll take her.” Evan interrupted. He was crouched somewhere behind you, looking at your teammates over the top of your head. You felt his hands flatten on your back as he pushed you up to stand, the rest of the group joining him and wincing when some blood dripped onto the sand. 
“It’s okay, you don’t have to —“ You held out a hand in his direction now that you could see him, only to press it firmly back against your face when your nose simply started to gush once the pressure had been removed. 
“Yes,” He nodded, “I do. Let’s go.” 
You let him lead you, sending an apologetic look to the remaining teens on the sand — you were pretty sure it looked nothing like an apology since your hands were covering half of your face and there was blood seeping through your fingers, but it was the effort that counted. 
You didn’t receive as many looks as you thought you would’ve on the walk to the infirmary, although you assumed demigods had gotten worse injuries than a nosebleed before, so it wasn’t exactly odd. When you got there, you stopped on the porch and tried to speak to Evan as best you could without letting any more blood spill. 
“You can — you can go.” You said through your hands, “I got it from here.”
He looked a little unsure, but you nodded firmly and he turned back the way he came. It was pretty embarrassing, walking into the infirmary with a bloody nose on your third day at camp, but the Apollo kid who took care of you said it was only a matter of time before you shed first blood, and that you’d better thank the gods it was a volleyball and not a hellhound that did the damage. 
They stopped the bleeding with some sort of special gauze and told you to be a little more careful before sending you on your way — which was when you found Luke. 
You didn’t even see him at first, more focused on folding the gauze you’d been given into a perfect square while you stepped off the wooden porch. But then a voice muttered your name in slight shock and confusion, and you looked up to meet those baby brown eyes you couldn’t help but love. 
You grinned, “JoJo.”
Luke shook his head, “What were you doing in the infirmary?” His eyes tracked all over you, assessing for any visible injuries. When he found none, he turned his questioning gaze back to your face. 
You sucked in some air through your teeth, embarrassed, “I, uh, got hit in the face with a volleyball. Turns out, I’m awful at it.” You let out a weak chuckle, and Luke rolled his eyes in amusement. 
“Of course. I thought baseball was your thing?” 
“It is.” You nodded, “But there’s nobody out here to play with, so…” Then an idea sprung, and your face lit up so visibly that Luke took a tentative step back, “Hey, why don’t you come watch? We’re playing on the beach.”
“Oh.” The boy paused, eyes sliding to the beach and back to you, “I don’t think so…I, uh, tend to spend my weekends alone.”
“You spend your everything alone.” You pointed out with a raised pair of brows. He pursed his lips. You sighed, “Come on. You don’t have to play.”
He looked as if he was thinking about it, and your hopes were raised a little. You liked Luke, you wanted to know him better and one day consider him a friend rather than a guy you harassed every day. But you were very aware of his aversion for all things social — the comment Travis made about Luke not playing with them anymore saddened you, and it pained you to imagine Luke all alone while his brothers and friends still had fun around him. But then his face dropped, and so did yours, Luke shaking his head no. 
“I just…” He shrugged, “I don’t really…”
“It’s okay.” You interrupted before he could spout out his excuse. He didn’t need one. “We can do something else.”
“Oh, I —“ Another shake of the head, “You go back to them, don’t let me ruin it.”
“You aren’t ruining anything.” You said plainly, and you thought that those four words hit Luke a lot harder than expected, because he had this pensive look on his face that didn’t fade until you spoke again, “Listen, I know baseball isn’t exactly a camp sport, but I’ve got a ball. This place has gotta have bats — I mean, if it’s got swords, it’s got bats, right? So we grab them, we go off somewhere and take turns batting. I need to stay in practice anyway, if I’m gonna make varsity.”
You sent him your shiniest smile paired with some doughy eyes, and after squinting at you for a solid ten seconds, Luke agreed to your idea with a hesitant nod. You weren’t exactly expecting him to jump up and down in joy, so you took the liberty of doing that before asking him, very enthusiastically (because if you stayed positive, maybe it would rub off on him), to go look for a bat while you grabbed your ball. 
Chris caught you exiting the Hermes cabin while he was filling up his water bottle using the outdoor tap not far from the porch, asking you what you were doing with a baseball. You explained that volleyball was definitely not your thing and ignored his chuckle of agreement in favour of informing him that you would be teaching Luke how to become the next Babe Ruth. He raised a brow. 
“Really?”
“Uh, yeah.” You replied, a little put off by his reaction. “Is that a problem?” 
“No, no.” He backtracked quickly, hands raised and water sloshing around his bottle as the movement, “I just…I dunno. Luke’s been a little off recently. If I were you, I wouldn’t meddle in it.”
“Meddle?” You asked, shaking your head, “In what?”
“In his…” He puffed out his cheeks, trying to find the words, “His funk.” He shook his head then, eyes glossing over as he thought about it, “He failed his quest, he’s a little butthurt, but…he’ll get over it. Y’know?”
You didn’t know. 
“I just don’t think he needs babysitting.” He firmed, looking confident in his wording now that he’d found it, “He’s just gonna talk your ear off about how much he hates his life until you’re borderline suicidal. I wouldn’t bother, personally. He's a big boy, he can get over it.”
You rolled your lips over each other, staring blankly at Chris as he sent you a polite smile and walked back to the beach. Slowly, your eyes narrowed, and your brows pulled together. But you didn't say anything, you just turned around yourself and walked to where you’d asked Luke to meet you. 
He was tossing the bat between his hands when you got there, dropping it in his left when he spotted you and nodding, “Alright, where are we doing this?”
You stopped, snapped out of a stupor you didn’t even realise you were in and blinking at him. For the first time since you’d met, it seemed that he was more focused and lively than you were. It irked him a little bit, and he frowned, “Sunny?” 
“Sorry.” You responded immediately, shaking your head to rid yourself of your spiralling thoughts, “I just…uh, let’s go somewhere clear. We don’t wanna hit anyone with the ball.” 
Luke led you to a clearing in the woods, explaining that the wood nymphs would be able to help you if the ball got lost in the foliage, so there was no need to hold back the arm you’d been bragging about for the entire walk. You just smirked, raised the bat level, and nodded at him to serve. 
Yes, you were a thousand percent better at baseball than you were at volleyball. You knew that, of course, but it was nice to be reassured. Luke wasn’t half bad either, but you were also a really good runner, so you kept having to remind him that an average level fielder wouldn’t have a chance against his bats — you just so happened to be way above average. 
Plus the wood nymphs were very helpful — apparently they didn’t get to watch many demigod activities other than capture the flag so it was refreshing for them to see you two play, and to actually be able to help. 
All in all, you were having a great time. Which of course meant that you were long overdue for something going wrong. Of course. 
“I can’t find it.”
“What?” You asked breathlessly, staring at the tree nymph who shrugged at you plainly. 
“It rolled into a pond, I think.” He sniffed indignantly, “And I am not climbing into a pond.”
“Oh, and you expect us to?” 
And that, kids, is how you ended up knee deep in pond water and ankle deep in something else — with Luke Castellan right by your side. 
“This is so gross.” You whispered, grimacing as your hands ran over the murky bottom. You couldn’t see anything but your own reflection when you looked in, so you were replying on touch alone to help find your ball. “I can’t believe this. My lucky ball and it falls into a pond! Not so lucky anymore, huh? Yeah, lucky my ass.”
“Hey, Sunny?” A slosh of water rippled over you and you had to straighten up to avoid the tiny waves splashing in your face. They only increased at your movements, but you were too busy glaring at Luke to notice. He pressed his mouth together, holding in a chuckle, “You’re not being very sunny right now.” 
You huffed, flinging your arms out at your sides and wincing when you splashed water on yourself by doing so, “I —“ A huff, “I don’t feel very sunny, Castellan. I am wading in sludge.” 
He actually had the audacity to let a tiny grin slip through, “Wow, the last name? You’re acting like me right now. It’s weird.”
“I can’t believe this.” You repeated, narrowing your eyes at the boy, “I’ve been trying to cheer you up since the day I met you and when you finally do, it’s because you’re relishing in my pain? Fuck you.”
As if he was trying to piss you off, Luke laughed. He actually laughed, exactly like he had yesterday and if you weren’t so annoyed you’d be smiling at him for it. But you were annoyed, so all you did in response was send a wave of pond water at him and drench his front. 
He stopped laughing. You started laughing. 
“Okay, is that how you wanna play this?” He asked, stepping closer, “Is it?” 
You grinned, stepping back. The water moved when you did, and the paired struggle of your’s and Luke’s legs under the water just increased the waves that oscillated around your knees. It slid up to your thighs and threatened to wet the denim of your shorts, but you were too busy prying your foot out of whatever the hell lived at the bottom of the pond so you could escape Luke’s wrath. 
You shook your head, “You don’t wanna do this.”
He nodded mockingly, “I think I do.”
Then it was on. He lunged for you, and you dived to the left in a swift attempt to get around him. Water was splashing everywhere at this point but neither of you cared — especially when Luke’s hands were mere inches from your arms, waiting for your ankle to snag on some algae and pull you back so he could push you over. You were smarter than that though, so you did a swift one-eighty, dragging your hands under the water with you as you did — the wave that accumulated from the momentum doused Luke from head to toe, his curls sticking to his forehead. He wiped them away and blew hard from his mouth before forming a weak glare in your direction.   
Your jaw trembled as you held in what you knew would be some serious chortles — but it was silent. The only noise apparent was the settling of the waves now that you had both stopped moving and Luke’s heavy breathing in front of you. He shook his head, stepping forward slowly, and you braced yourself for what was about to come. 
“Hey!” 
You paused. You shared a look with Luke before looking confusedly at the form that had appeared suddenly between the two of you. It was a girl by the looks of it, only she was made entirely of the water the two of you were standing in. She glared between the pair of you, hands on her hips. 
“I don’t appreciate all this splashing.” You felt suddenly like you were being berated by a school teacher for talking too loud during class, “Are you trying to drain my pond? Are you?”
“N—No.” You responded, shaking your head, “We were just looking for — ”
The water nymph held up your ball with a stern expression, “This? Yeah, it looked like you were.” 
Her sarcasm was not lost on you, and you tried your best not to meet Luke’s eyes, knowing they would fail you the second you did. Instead you looked at the nymph before you and took the ball from her outstretched hand, “Thank you. And, um, sorry…about the splashing.”
She folded her arms, lifting her head and straightening her shoulders, “That’s okay. Now get out.”
You were both quick to exit the water, although not too quick that you made anymore of it splash onto the rocks. Once you were out, the nymph nodded in satisfaction and melted back into the pond, and you and Luke were finally able to breathe. Then, you both burst into laughter. 
“Oh my gods.” You huffed, shaking your head and looking down at yourself, “Did we just get into trouble?” 
“With a water nymph?” He finished, shrugging off his wet shirt and wringing it out, “Yeah. How embarrassing.”
Your mouth was suddenly very dry. You knew Luke was strong — he had to be to fight a dragon and come back alive. To be known as the Best Swordsman in Camp. To be trusted by so many campers despite his newfound, distanced demeanour. But damn. 
You blew out a long puff of air, hoping your reddened cheeks could be excused as some light sunburn. You weren’t as soaked as he was, but you still wafted your damp shirt from your body in hopes that it would dry — and also to give yourself something to do that wasn’t ogling at Luke’s lean figure. 
He spread his shirt out on a rock, ensuring the sun was hitting it right before lowering himself to the ground on the dry grass a few feet away. He leant back on his hands, face to the sky, and revelled in the warmth. You stayed standing, fiddling with the button on your shorts, staring at him. At the scar on his face, at the rest of them along his chest. 
He cracked one eye open, glancing at you, “What?”
“I, uh.” You licked your lips, “Nothing. Nothing.” You muttered, taking a seat beside him and crossing your legs. Your gaze stuck firmly to your lap and you waited for his to return to the sky. It didn’t. 
“You can ask me.” He said then, shrugging. 
“What happened on your quest?” You let slip, and when he stayed silent for a second too long, you realised that maybe that wasn't the question he was giving you permission to ask. “I’m sorry. I know it’s none of my business, it’s nobody’s really. But Chris told me before that you’re in a funk and that seemed like a gross understatement but then again I’ve known you for, what, three days? He’s known you for years, so surely he’s right. But you just seem like it’s more than a funk, and I don’t know what to believe because I don’t know what happened but I also don’t want to ask because it’s none of my business and it’s also very clearly a sore subject because of what happened with Dean. Not that I think you’re gonna fly off the handle or anything, but it’s definitely a touchy subject and I can’t just go demanding all the details just because I wanna be your friend and— ”
A hand over your mouth stopped you from continuing what Luke was sure to be a very long tangent. He looked at you, half in shock, half in amusement, and huffed out a laugh, “Sunny, you need to calm down.”
You couldn’t respond, but you did nod. He removed his hand slowly and you swallowed your embarrassment. Luke sat up fully, straightening his back and clearing his throat, “Uh, okay. Have you heard of that Hercules story? With the golden apples?” 
You nodded, afraid to speak in case you went off on a rant again. He nodded with you, “Yeah, well, my father sent me on that. The exact same quest…except I failed.”
That explained the scar, and the dragon story he’d mentioned very briefly yesterday. He started to go into a little more detail about his quest — and suddenly you were overcome with this…angry sort of sadness. 
Hermes sent Luke on a quest that had already been done. After hearing Clarisse yap your ear off about Kleos, you understood why he’d been a little bummed. Honestly, if it were you, you wouldn’t have even gone. What’s the point in doing a quest that’s already been done? But you didn’t say that to Luke, who seemed a little deep into his story. You just simmered in your irritation while he continued to explain his battle with Ladon, and his ultimate failure. 
“I refused to leave the infirmary for a week.” He chuckled, but it was a little sad. “I mean, I’m supposed to be a leader here, and I fail my first quest? Some demigod I turned out to be.” 
Without even thinking, you shook your head, “You didn’t fail.” Luke looked at you, confused, “You battled a dragon with a hundred heads and lived. That doesn’t sound like failure to me.”
“But I didn’t get the apples.” He explained. “I disappointed my father.”
“Your father…” You said slowly, unsure of how your next words would land, “Who I’m going to assume had never spoken to you until the day he gave you your quest?” Luke nodded after a brief pause and you took that as permission to continue, “So who cares if he’s disappointed? He clearly doesn’t care if you’re mauled by a dragon.” 
“Exactly.” Luke replied, brows pulled together in the way they had been when you’d first met. Angry, irritated. Disappointed. “Everyone keeps telling me to get over it. That demigods have failed quests before and it just means I need to try harder next time but…why should there be a next time? Really, if you sit and think about it for a second, why are we even here? To train, so we don’t die whenever monsters come and attack us? And who’s fault is that? Maybe if our parents were good people, there wouldn’t be any monsters trying to murder their kids. If they cared, even a little bit, they’d do more than just claim us and leave us to die!” 
He scoffed, looking in the direction where you knew the rest of the campers resided — playing games, building weapons, dedicating every waking hour to becoming the best of the best. And for what? For glory? For a pat on the back from a parent who can’t even be bothered to raise them? 
“They don’t get it.” He said then, turning back to you, “They think this is all okay. They’re too invested to realise that they’re just being used. They’re so focused on getting a shred of recognition from the gods that they don’t understand that it’s never gonna come.”
“So…” You finally spoke, your first words in a minute, “What do we do?”
Luke shrugged then, “I don’t know yet.” 
It was silent for a long time after that. Luke stayed staring at the floor and you led back to stare at the sky. He was right, wasn’t he? Sure, you’d only been in this for a little while, but you weren’t stupid. You knew the gods didn’t care — you’d figured out that much when you got to camp. A dumping ground for demigods. Demigod daycare, except mommy isn’t coming to pick you up at three o’clock. Luke deserved to be angry, he deserved to mope — they all did. 
But they wouldn’t. You could sit there and curse the gods for hours on end, but that was still half of you. And that, you thought, was probably the worst part of it all.  
You were so caught up in your feelings that when the tree that had been shading you phased into a nymph and walked away, you jumped halfway out of your skin, “Jeezum crow.”
You looked at Luke, expecting him to either share the same dumbfounded look on his face or be laughing at you — something he seemed to be doing a lot of today — but instead he was staring at you, slack-jawed and wide eyed. You blinked, “What?”
“You’re from Vermont.” 
Your mouth snapped shut, and his expanded into the grin you’d been hassling him for since you’d set your sights on him. You sighed, “Fuck.” 
He let out a disbelieving laugh, “You’re from Vermont! Holy shit. I should’ve known it when you called me a flatlander.” He threw his head back, and you shook yours at his dramatics. But he didn’t care, he just pointed at you, “You’re a fuckin’ woodchuck!” 
“Oh my gods.” You groaned into your hands, pulling yourself to your feet in hopes of escaping his sudden glee. “Is that so bad?” 
“No.” He laughed, following you, “I’m just amazed that I figured it out. I’m a genius!”
“Okay.” You sent him a blank look, but it only lasted a few seconds before your tiny smile was fighting through, “It’s not like you’ve discovered the meaning of life. Calm down.” 
“Never.” He shook his head, “This is my greatest achievement.”
“You fought a dragon.” 
“Screw the dragon!” He gripped your biceps, grinning at you, “You’re from Vermont!”
“You’re not funny.”
“And yet you’re laughing.”
“I am not.”
“You are.” 
“I’m not!” 
____________
“What’d you do to him?” 
You threw a piece of salmon into the fire, glancing at Chris, “I’m getting deja vu. Haven’t you asked me this already?” 
“Yeah, but…” The boy looked behind him, back at the Hermes table, where Luke was perched on the end and waiting patiently for you to come back from the hearth before digging into his food, “This time I mean it. I mean, he still isn’t talking to us, but he’s sitting on our side of the table again. You can be honest with me…” He sent you a grave look, “Did you give him a BJ?” 
“What? No!” You threw a pea at him. “I just listened to him.” You tried to be a little serious, but clearly Chris wasn’t getting the hint, so you relented, “And doused him in pond water.”
He laughed at that, nodding proudly. You turned back to the fire, asking Aphrodite to get rid of your split ends. You’d given up on praying to your father, deciding to go through every Olympian until one of them answered. So far, only Hera had responded — you assumed so, anyway, when a cuckoo woke you up from your afternoon nap. That wasn’t very helpful, but at least it was an answer. You didn’t suspect campers prayed to her often, so she probably appreciated the sentiment. 
“So…” Travis smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at you once you sat down. He sent this look around the group, but even Connor gave him a weirded out look in response. He huffed, “It’s team day tomorrow.”
A collective ohhh seemed to hum around the group, but you were still confused. You sent a questioning look to Luke who said, “For Capture the Flag. Tomorrow is when all the cabin counsellors gang up and decide on the two teams.”
“Then we have five days to strategise.” Travis continued on very dramatically, hands splayed on the table, “And on Friday…we battle.”
That seemed to lift the energy up a bit, the people around you sharing mischievous looks. They started to discuss amongst them who would be the best cabin to ally with, Lana turning to Chris, “Who are you gonna pick?” 
Chris went to speak, but paused. He seemed to think about something, looking slightly scared but still turning to the boy across from him anyway, “I thought maybe…Luke would like to reinstate himself as team captain this month.”
Right, you’d completely forgotten. During your spear lessons with Clarisse, you’d asked her why it was so important that you be amazing at fighting quickly if monsters couldn’t get into camp. She’d then explained the whole situation that was Capture the Flag — how it was a bigger deal than the super bowl around here — before briefly mentioning that Luke had always been Hermes team captain, but stepped down for the last game because his scar was still healing from his quest. Chris had taken over for him, and based off of the looks the people around you were sporting, you assumed they weren’t expecting him to give up his title so quickly. 
You couldn’t blame them. Luke hadn’t exactly expressed much desire to captain this time — he hasn’t expressed much desire for anything these days apparently. You were all waiting for him to let Chris down easy, but instead he looked up from his plate with an indifferent nod and said, “Yeah, sure.” 
Nobody said anything. Except Chris who, when Luke stood to rack up his empty plate, looked at you gravely and asked, “Was it a handjob?”
🏷️ @katherines-imagines @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry @jennapancake @cobaltskiez @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @m00ng4z3r @mischiefmoons @woodlandwrites @theo-notts-doll @iammightsadyall @fennecswife @csifandom @tsireyasgf (just ask to be removed/added!)
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impishjesters · 11 months
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Jax x Reader w/depression/suicidal tendencies
warning(s): mentions of depression/suicidal behavior/tendencies, nothing graphic though, mentions of morbid/dark humor note: it's only mentioned that he has feelings for you, whether romantic or platonic is left up to the reader. A/N: I think this is the fastest I've ever wanted to write for something utterly new to me, usually it takes a while of being into a series or liking a character to wanna write something. This was...less than twelve hours? This was probably the most self-indulgent thing I've written in a while.
Nobody was safe from Jax’s pranks, including you—regardless of how much he found himself gradually enjoying your company.
It’s actually a right of passage at this point that every new person (as rare as it is) who shows up is subjected to some awful prank to gauge just how much of an easy or difficult target they’ll be.
You handle the pranks with ease. Sure it can be annoying, but there’s little that can seemingly “kill” you here.
Which is a shame really—well, only slightly.
Your therapist would’ve probably found it a good thing, trying to off yourself in a digital world where sleeping and eating were no longer required likely meant the inability to die.
Not in a traditional sense anyway.
You’re the only one ballsy enough to prank Jax back, which isn’t easy but when a prank is successful? Oh, it’s worth it to see his reaction.
There’s an unspoken prank war back and forth, but typically the other’s are the subject of your guys’ pranks. Somehow it feels more rewarding with the joint effort.
It's not often, but sometimes Jax's pranks will go a step too far and trigger something unpleasant. He's not really sure why you just walk off like that, those pranks don't make him feel as satisfied for whatever reason.
Once a special type of friendship grows between the two of you, the pranks lessen—not entirely though—nah he loves the unsuspecting reactions of a prank you didn’t see coming.
The pranks become less hostile and more casual—he’s got a reputation to keep after all, regardless of how he feels about you.
The initial reaction to someone being told there was no way out was to panic, you however, didn’t..well not outright. Your initial reaction is dark humor—even with the whole censorship thing.
Ragatha is the only one initially disturbed/worried over your dark sense of humor, which should be expected from one of them since they’ve been there longer.
Jax is aware of your morbid sense of humor and often plays along with it, especially in the beginning—later in the friendship though? Yeah, there’s no noticeable physical change, but he’s only a tad worried.
When not tormenting the other’s Jax stuck with you, or vice versa.
After the attempted drowning and standing (willingly) in harm’s way of one (or three) of the rides, Jax keeps your bedroom key closer in hand than the others.
And honestly? Ragatha doesn’t even blame him. You aren’t distant from them, but you do tend to favour Jax’s company. Regardless of her feelings about him as a person, it becomes obvious that he feels something less hostile towards you compared to them.
It takes a while before you finally confess to Jax that prior to being trapped in this digital hell, you were medicated for depression/suicidal tendencies. And while the digital world took away things like needing sleep and food, it didn’t get rid of the thoughts or urges.
Now—had this been someone else telling him all this? He’d be very uncaring and probably make a nasty “joke”, but because it’s you? He’s treading into foreign territory here when it comes to emotions.
There’s not really anything he can say that would make you feel better, but he does show a more rare tender side, offering to be there whenever you need him. Just to backpedal like a tsundere and say that he won’t always be free ( a lie, the fuck else does he have to do?), but he’ll try and make time for you during those moments.
He doesn’t do some pinky promise bullshit, I mean he can and would, but he doesn’t expect his offer and attempts to do that much (words of promise aren’t on the same level as a prescription drug after all).
But if being around his rude ass self and doing the occasional nice *gag* gestures of like, hugging or whatever helps you, he’ll do it—just, not with others around obviously. Again, man has a reputation.
From then on Jax is more aware of where you are around him at all times, not in a suffocating way though. Well, not intentionally, he has his moments. But he’s trying, again this is new territory for him.
Jax makes it his unspoken, personal goal to make sure you don’t tread the line of becoming abstracted.
Bonus (fluff)
Jax will make an attempt not to immediately recoil from your touch when others are present.
I’m not talking “Whoops, sorry to bump into you”, I’m talking about grabbing onto his arm or being in his personal bubble because you need something grounding or whatever.
More often than none his immediate reaction is to just use you to lean on, elbow or arm resting on top of your head to give you some contact and pressure. (He does it out of habit even when you don't need it.)
Sure he probably looks like an ass to others, but after a while, they sort of just get used to it since you never bring up being offended by the act.
But in private? Yeah, sure shoot, just don’t expect him to put any effort into returning anything. Maybe the drape of an arm or his legs, but if it’s really bad? He’ll lay or sit there while you cling to him like a koala.
Jax actually finds it kinda funny how tightly you hold on whenever he gets up.
“Wow, you really holdin’ on there.”
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lena-in-a-red-dress · 7 months
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AU where Kara is still an assistant when Lena becomes CEO of CatCo. She makes some changes but one thing Cat tells her under no uncertain terms is that a) Kara stays, and b) she's destined to become a reporter when she's ready.
I'm going back and forth on whether Lena and Kara are friends at this point, or whether Lena simply takes on CatCo before they meet. But basically I want to see Kara having to a) build new connections to get Lena what she needs and b) learning what it's like to work for somebody who doesn't treat like dirt most days.
Like, imagine her standing dumbfounded the first time she brings Lena her coffee, because Lena simply thanks her, genuinely. And then the flush of pride when Lena comments in pleasant surprise when she discovers the coffee is perfectly warm-- not hot enough to scald, but not the usual tepidness of coffee thats had to travel three blocks to get to her.
Because Cat always took those little efforts for granted, as an expectation. But Lena smiles slyly as she regards Kara anew, and says "I think we're going to work together just fine."
Because Kara worked for Cat, not with her. And that small semantic means the world. Because its true-- Cat, and now Lena, wouldn't be able to do what she does without Kara doing what she does.
And that just makes Kara want to work all the harder. She finds she WANTS to stay late when Lena does, mostly because Lena urges her to go home, and that kind of kindness is the kind that's paid back by staunchly ignoring her and sticking around anyway. And she takes extra effort to learn all of Lena's preferences and idiosyncracies, so that she knows exactly what Lena needs when she's had a meeting with that particular board member she's outwardly civil to but clearly loathes.
The first and only time Kara brings Lena salmon for lunch, she's absolutely devastated when Lena looks at it, shoulders falling. "I forgot to tell you I can't stand salmon," she says, resignedly.
Kara's eyes go wide in horror. "Oh! No, that's okay, I'll just go--"
"Please don't bother, it's my fault, I never told you--"
"It's no problem at all. Just-- wait here okay?"
As if Lena would be anywhere but her desk. But in ten minutes, Kara returns with a greasy paper sack.
"I promise, this isn't a punishment for needing something last minute," Kara says quickly. "These are legitimately the best burgers in the city, and honestly, it's the greatest gift I could ever give you."
Okay. Maybe she's laying it on a little thick. But Lena only looks at her with a bemused smile. "All right," she slowly agrees. Her eyebrow quirks. "I'm assuming you picked up something similar for yourself?"
Kara blushes. "Yeah. Can't help myself."
"Good. Then you can eat with me."
Freezing, Kara feels like a deer in the headlights. For all that Lena has treatedher as an equal, they've never eaten together in the same room. They usually eat at their own desks, working through.
"Really?"
"Really." Lena's gaze turns artificially solemn. "If I'm going to have a self-induced heart attack, I better have someone there to call 911."
Unable to keep herself from grinning, Kara scuttles to retrieve her own burger and fries from her desk. And there, together, they share the first of many, many meals to come.
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ghostfacesvalentine · 4 months
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Multimuse x Fem!Reader - Muses as tropes
Pairing: Multimuse x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Mentions of killing, nothing explicit but a little nsfw. I don’t know if there’s more.
Type: Blerps
Request: N/A
Word Count: N/A
Prompt: The muses’ as some tropes! Maybe they don’t all fit as accurately but maybe I’ll do another one (?) idk lmk if they work or not.
Notes: I didn’t proofread anything. I don’t know if I’ll keep this up (?)
Jason Voorhees:
Fish out of water- Reader isn’t outdoorsy at all, forced to get a job during summer while college classes are out, they apply to camp crystal lake. The reader has a really hard time fitting in with the rest of the camp counselors, mainly for not knowing the processes of camp or how to handle equipment. One by one counselors go missing, often found in gruesome circumstances. One counselor takes a liking to the reader, when reader doesn’t reciprocate, the hazing gets worse. Eventually the reader meets Jason, learning the history of camp crystal lake, reader sympathizes with him. Jason goes on a rampage when he finds out about the hazing/bullying, until the reader is the only one left.
Michael Myers:
Grump and sunshine- More than likely met at the asylum Michael is incarcerated in. Reader learns about Michael’s past and struggles then decides to be his sunshine. Reader has the mentality of “I could fix him” but often is let down by his gruesome actions. Somehow Micheal is still drawn to the reader and does have a little bit of an obsessive bodyguard mentality. Reader is constantly kissing Michael and being affectionate. She’s the only one to get a non violent reaction from him.
Tiffany Valentine:
Wants different things- Reader wants to pursue Tiffany, but she just wants something casual. Reader spends time trying to impress her and make her realize they are the one. Tiffany could just want to date or go out every other day/the reader is not on her mind/ maybe she goes back and forth with chucky. Reader goes out of way to make Tiffany fall in love with them and stay with them.
Billy Loomis:
Unrequited love- Reader falls in love with Billy, going out of their way to help them and spend time with them but can’t help but be jealous of Sydney for being with Billy. Listens to him about all of his relationship issues, eventually learning of his double life as ghostface. Reader goes out of her way to cover up his crimes and eventually has to make a choice of whether or not to admit her feelings to him after taking the fall for one of his mistakes. Once the reader is detained, they have to hope that Stu or Billy could kill again to get them out of jail.
Stu Macher:
Popular boy x shy girl- Reader doesn’t go to parties much in fear of being made fun of or taken advantage of, until Stu meets them in class. After consistently pestering reader to skip class or hang out after school, reader eventually does so. With time they both become great friends, Stu takes the reader under his wing. He invites her to parties and even with the attention he receives, none of them are her.
Patrick Bateman:
Fake relationship- Patrick uses reader to make his ex fiancé jealous, he helps the reader appear more accomplished, spoils them to look their best. Fake dates turn into real ones, handing the reader gifts becomes surprising the reader with them. Once the readers eyes begin to wander, Patrick’s back is against the wall to admit to the reader that he doesn’t want her to be with anyone else.
Leatherface:
Love at first sight- Reader for some reason visits the farm and bubba falls in love with her immediately. He’s dumbfounded and clumsily follows her around the farm. Reader doesn’t understand but over time she gets to know him. Bubba spends his time picking flowers and trying to find a way to make her a mask. He mourns when she’s gone but when she comes back he’s all over her again.
Harley Quinn:
Amnesia- Reader and Harley wake up in a basement, tied together and without any resources. At first they start to bicker, wondering who got the other in this situation. Without any source of light or anyone to hear their cries, they start to get to know each other. After hours, they try to break loose to no avail, forcing them to continue their forced friendship. Eventually Harley forces herself out of the restraints, making the decision to break the reader free even with the danger of being caught. As they try to escape, they begin to retrace their steps and learn what led them to their initial predicament.
Poison Ivy:
Love potion- Ivy experiments with reader by trying her love potion with them. Of course it starts to work and now the reader is disgustingly lovesick and wants nothing but to be loved by Ivy. Ivy loves the attention and dedication but eventually comes to terms with the fact that this could be just the love potion. Ivy has to come up with a cure and after she does and gives it to the reader, the reader still loves Ivy.
Bruce Wayne:
Too dumb to live- Reader always ends up in dangerous situations, even without trying. ‘Batman’ or ‘Bruce Wayne’ always ends up barely rescuing her. She’s oblivious to the coincidences, however Bruce loves to see her from afar. He tries desperately to find a way to get her close to him, maybe by hiring her for Wayne enterprise or frequenting her job. Eventually, the reader puts two and two together and they confront each other about the coincidences. Eventually they start to date and Bruce has to maneuver with being Batman and being the readers body guard, basically.
Billy Hargrove:
Ladykiller in love- Of course Billy has all eyes on him at school, eventually making their way to the reader. At first she’s skeptical but decided to give Billy a chance, which he gladly takes. Billy slowly begins to fall hard for the reader, to a point where he can’t stop thinking about her, often going out of his way to be with the reader. Though the reader is skeptical, they try to avoid Billy and his advances in hopes of not being just another pursuit. With time, Billy has to prove the reader that she’s wrong about him.
Steve Harrington:
Second chance lovers- Almost dated, but whether reader or Steve weren’t ready, one of them got kidnapped by the government or in another relationship etc. Eventually reader and Steve (whoever left) has to entice the other to give them another chance. Really sweet and disgustingly romantic.
Steve Rogers:
One night stand- Reader and Steve hook up one night, afterwards reader avoids Steve at all costs in fear of bringing up that night. Steve goes out of his way to look for the reader, hoping to reconnect. He tries to be subtle about it, ordering coffee at the same shop at the same time she does, stopping by the same bookstore she meets her book club at during the week. Eventually Steve confronts the reader about them avoiding him, which leads them to reconcile and hook up again.
Bucky Barnes:
Disapproving parents- Though Bucky is a charm, your parents disapprove of your relationship, they think he’s far too old for you. Not to mention the kind of work he does makes them worry for your safety. You spend nights sneaking out or having him sneak in, you both can’t stay off of each other, even with the risk of getting caught. He spends his time trying to swoon you, not to mention your parents, but they simply side eye him. You think you have it under control until you don’t, it’s either him or your parents.
Loki Laufeyson:
Captor falls for captive- Throughout his time with the grandmaster, he was under strict supervision, one mistake after the next, he was forced to become one of the grandmasters bounty hunters. He was given the instruction to bring back a handful of women and men to serve in the grandmasters favor. After capturing a handful of prisoners, reader included, he takes a really great liking to the reader, instead deciding to keep her to himself. With riches and gold, he tries to buy her love, but maybe it’ll take more time for her to see the real him.
Cloud Strife:
Bodyguard- Reader meets Cloud in seventh heaven, not knowing the area, she opts to stay close to the bar. After some whispers among the bar, Cloud finds out about the readers lack of knowledge about the dangers of the area. Eventually Cloud decides to strike up a conversation with the reader, asking if he could help her get anywhere. At first the reader opts to get to somewhere safe to sleep, but as they get to know each other more, Cloud lets the reader follow him around. Though he has the second headache of keeping them safe, they take a liking to one another.
Sebastian Michaelis:
Runaway bride- Reader was in an unhappy relationship, or being cheated on, not knowing how to handle the situation in fear of her fiancée retaliating, the reader up and leaves the ongoing wedding before walking down the aisle. While running down the streets in her dress she bumps into Sebastian, who knows of her fiancée. Offering her to help her calm down, he offers her a place to stay until she gets herself together. She eventually becomes essential to the phantomhive household, still hiding behind Sebastian in hopes of never seeing her ex again.
Spencer Reid:
Professor x college student- Reader pursued Dr. Reid’s class in hopes of learning more about criminal psychology. After appearing in class every week without an absence, the reader tries to get close to the professor in an innocent manner, simply wanting to learn more and with hopes of making his job easier. The more time they spend with each other, the more they start to be attracted to each others features, way of thinking and understanding each other. Things escalate and they have to keep their relationship a secret in hopes of not being reprimanded.
Jason Todd:
Good girl/Bad guy trope- Though I wouldn’t classify Jason as a ‘bad guy’, seeing him with someone who loves him purely would be so cute. Reader met Jason at the park when walking alone, he decided to help her get home safely when he realized she was buzzed after drinking for the first time. After meeting in secret time and time again due to readers strict parents, they begin to fall for each other. “Touch her and you die” kind of vibe. Bonus points for Jason being the readers first everything or mostly everything.
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chaeyoei · 2 months
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Hihi,
I really adore your cat!Jing Yuan piece, so I was wondering if you could do another but this time, with the reader being the one who is turned into a lil kitty? If you want, of course :3c
Why not. This is fem reader x Jing Yuan
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"Why the worried face, Yanqing?" Jing Yuan asked, seeing the concern on his lieutenant's face.
"What if you drank that water, General?" The blonde child answered, shakiness visible in his voice.
The white haired man let out a small smile, patting Yanqing's head to soothe the child's fright. "You don't have to worry, I'll still survive. Your General won't be going down until a successor is selected." It was a vow in a casual tone.
Yanqing felt his fear melt away by the warm gesture. He offered a smile as the pair reached infront of the General's chamber. "Oh Lady Y/N-" The child saw the woman near Jing Yuan's table but paused, his eyes widening like saucers seeing the woman drink from the poisoned cup. "Lady Y/N!!"
Jing Yuan followed the lieutenant's voice. A smile gracing his lips as he saw his beloved which quickly evolved to fear. No, not his love. He's already lost most of it, He can't lose the one precious to him, it's the only thing stopping him from hitting rock bottom. Who will he go to when he wants to be vulnerable and let it out? Who will he share his burden to? His only fear was losing you. His heart was racing uncontrollably.
The train of thoughts broke as his body went on autopilot. The pair rushed forth but halted as bright light engulfed the room. This couldn't be the effects of a poison.
When the light cleared, all left behind was a cat. Jing Yuan's widened eyes confronted into confusion, same with Yanqing. "Y/N?"
"Meow" The feline tilted it's head, jumping onto the General. Rubbing it's head against the man's chest almost comforting him. This was you, only you could tell if he was distressed almost immediately.
————
After confronting the assassin and checking the remants of the drink. Somehow the fool had mixed a transforming potion instead of poison.
Cat Y/N. Oh boy.
He can't say he wasn't reliefed knowing that it wasn't poison. He doesn't want to fathom a life without you. You're his pillar, if you fall, so will he.
————
Affection
Jing Yuan would run his fingers through your fur and just bury his face into it. It was so comforting to him. He had to admit, his lady was still beautiful even in a cat form.
If he could, he wouldve used it for a pillow, but he doesn't want his beloved to be crushed under the weight of his head.
You on the other hand, still showed affection like yourself. Whether it'd be an attempt at patting his head with your paws or rubbing your fur against him to show him comfort.
wife is wife
Now that you were a cat, he'd keep you with him in his office. He wanted company.
————
"Meow." That felt like a chiding meow from you. As you nudged him, putting your paw on the paperwork scattered in his desk, almost as if you're telling him to finish it.
"Love.." He gave a pleading look which was answered with a sharp meow.
You meowed countless times and he could somehow translate it. You were telling him to not procastinate accompanied by a threat which he was unable to decipher.
He sighed. His wife was still herself no matter the form. He was getting scolded by a cat.
Lingsha. Do I favor Chinese sparkle? No. I would've used Bailu if this was made a few months prior to her announcement.
"..." The Cauldron Master observed the feline figure. "Lady Y/N will turn back in 3 days. It's nothing to worry about." The Alchemy commision's head reassured the General.
Annoyances.
None. He can never find you annoying.
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This was short. And other requests are coming soon.
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thefanficmonster · 7 months
Text
Heavy Metal Lover
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PART 2
Colby Brock x Reader (Female)
Warnings: Smoking, Brief Choking, Mentioned Past Suicides (at the location they're exploring), Suggestive Content, Arguments, Swearing
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Romance, Very Slight Smut, RPF (Real Person Fic)
Summary: Sam's best friend and Kat's best friend have been tangling antlers since the moment they met. So much for the couple's hopes of setting the two up.
NOTE: Sam and Kat are still together in this fic. This detail is not meant to be disrespectful to Sam's current girlfriend in any way.
"Why do we keep trying?"
Sam's question comes out as an exasperated sigh as he slouches further into the leather couch him and Kat have settled onto. Their rooms aren't ready yet, seeing as how their flight arrived way earlier than their calculations had suggested.
The hotel lobby is busy. The noise on any other day would be too much for the two to ignore and tune out but right now it's much more alike white noise. Jet-lag has really done them in this time. They'd been running away from it for long enough - hopping from plane to plane filming Hell Week is the same every year. But alas, by the fourth location they'd always shut down as has been the case since they stepped foot out of the plane and into the Las Vegas airport.
The only reason they're staying awake is so they don't get robbed blind. Well, that and to make sure the other two people on this trip don't murder one another.
"Because I still believe there's something there."
Y/N and Colby had successfully made it through the whole boarding process and flight without a single fight. Hell, Sam can't even recall them exchanging a single word until they arrived at the hotel. Maybe that's why it took them less than thirty seconds to break out in their usual bitter back-and-forth in the middle of the lobby. The only reason voices remained leveled was because they are indeed in public and they have appearances to upkeep.
The couple managed to subdue the perpetual assholes, convincing them to 'take five' which they thankfully went to take in opposite directions - Y/N headed for the parking lot to grab something she allegedly forgot in their rental car while Colby immediately clocked the patio across the lobby and quickly disappeared out of sight.
Kat watched them both, as if on cue, pluck their packs of cigarettes from their pockets on the way out.
That's what she means when she's trying to convince Sam of that something she sees. She can't explain it without the reasoning sounding like wishful thinking but she knows there is something. Something in the explosiveness in their interactions, the 'hatred' in their glares whenever they are tangling antlers over the smallest inconvenience, the way they look at each other when the other isn't looking.
Y/N and Colby are to Kat what the paranormal is to Sam. She wants to prove it to everyone, but mostly herself. Prove she didn't spend years poking holes in their apprehension for one another and pushing them together when the holy force clearly didn't want her to.
Or maybe that's what has been driving her.
Either way, she's truly grateful Sam is going along with her antics. Whether he believes what she's preaching or sees what she's seeing is up for debate, but at he's still supportive.
He'd never tell her this, but he isn't exactly trusting of the process. He more than anyone would want to see his best friend in a happy and healthy relationship. Does he believe that him and Y/N could have that? No. Not at all. Does he have faith Kat will succeed in her endeavors? Nope. Not even a tad. Even though she's stubborn and dedicated to this cause, he's never met a person more hard-headed than his best friend. Or at least he hadn't until he met Y/N.
You know the whole 'opposites attract' notion? The reason Sam and Kat's experiment subjects won't give the results they're hoping for is because they're too alike. In sync even - as the cigarettes instance that happened less than ten minutes ago would confirm. They're on the same wavelength headed in opposite directions. They're permanently heading for a collision - a fight equal to a ticking time bomb. Sam and Kat have to put out the fire the explosion of said bomb causes but that is a small price to pay to keep the two in each other's proximity.
"I don't know, babe...." Sam's shoulders slump downward, his arm automatically wrapping around Kat when she leans into his side. Hesitant as he may be, he's willing to go along with it. How is it any different from all the times Kat agreed to visit abandoned and haunted places with him. Hell, that's why she's here. She had no problem hopping on a plane to Vegas on such short notice just because she knew how much it'd mean to him. So...what's a little matchmaking in return? "But I believe your romance instincts." Looking down at her, he can't help but smile when he sees her absolutely beaming at him.
"I will not let you down."
She may try her best, but their subjects are two particularly unruly chess pieces.
Y/N, for example, is still out in the parking lot, getting antsier by the second. Anger refuses to let her stand still. Her jaw is still set, hot blood pumping through her veins. So many words she didn't get to spit out due to the public constraint are still stuck in her throat. Colby's words are replaying in her head, their edge causing her to dig her nails into her palms.
She needs to get some air, she just doesn't know where to find it. Maybe at the top of a mountain where she could scream her lungs out in peace. That's not really an option now, though, she she just settles for walking around the hotel, giving herself a couple more minutes before she rejoins Sam and Kat inside.
Eventually, she's made her way around to the side of the hotel that spreads out as an open patio, basking in the all-too-warm sun rays of this fine September day. Last year, the high temperatures were not such a problem while putting up with the fast paced dynamic of Hell Week because they actually filmed it in late October. This year, however, they chose to get it out of the wat sooner because their schedule would be packed all October. Kat's been working on a new album, Y/N has a deal with Crypt TV to make a horror movie and Sam and Colby will be doing Sam and Colby stuff. I don't think there is any other way to sum up what those two are doing.
Not that Y/N really cares what they do. The only reason she's versed into their schedules is because she lives with them. Yes, that is correct - much to her dismay, she found herself forced to live with the guys and Kat after an unexpected and unwarranted eviction from her apartment.
She exhausted all possible options long before caving and accepting Kat's offer to move in with the three. She was welcomed into the house with three different reactions: her best friend squealing with excitement; Sam offering her a warm welcome and helping hand in moving her stuff to her room; and last, and certainly least, was Colby who gave her nothing more than a 'hello' in passing.
None of them can really recall when this endless butting of heads started or how or why. Sam and Kat would equate their attempts at getting the two to get along to pushing same charges toward one another - the harder you push, the harder they push apart.
It's truly baffling where Kat found even an ounce of romance between the two.
Y/N wipes a few droplets of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand as she climbs the few stairs to reach the bar out on the patio, hoping to gulp down a glass of water after the cigarette she tossed a few minutes ago coupled with the intense heat.
"Hello there." The bartender greets her with a smile, his gaze trailing over her with zero subtlety. "What can I get ya?"
She chooses to ignore it, "Hi. Just a glass of water, please."
The man chuckles, reaching for a tall glass "You know, it's Happy Hour somewhere."
Despite his attempts at flirting - which Y/N is aware is part of his job - she finds herself letting out a small laugh, "Yeah well, not here. And not for me." She gratefully accepts the glass of ice cold water with a nod.
Before the guy can reply, a third voice butts into the conversation, "Yeah, definitely not for her. She's a raging alcoholic."
Stunned, Y/N turns to see a pair of electric blue eyes piercing her with a blank look that contradicts his extremely fake smile he's pinned on his face out of nothing more than politeness.
For a moment, due to their glaring match, they completely forget about the man they've roped into their mess. Thankfully, he speaks up, reminding them of his presence before he could witness any potential brawl, "Oh, um, I'm sorry to hear that."
Momentarily, Y/N drops the torch, tearing her gaze from Colby to acknowledge the bartender directly, "Yeah, no big deal."
Her teeth grit together in absolute rage when she hears the asshole beside her snort something alike a laugh, "Tragic, really. Can I get a vodka cran?"
Y/N busies her hand with holding the glass so she doesn't give into the idea of punching him, "Someone clearly follows that Happy Hour rule."
"I'll have you know..." Colby turns his whole body to face her now, as if challenging her, "...it's not for me." The tilt of his head directs her gaze to an attractive brunette sitting alone at a table, scrolling through her phone.
"Lovely." She spits the word like poison on her tongue, "I'll go tell her to blink twice if she needs help."
"You need help." The lack of bite to his statement stuns her more than if he were to yell it at her. It's an effective throw-off considering she doesn't immediately jump back or smack his hand away when he reaches for the pocket of her shorts, swiping her lighter, "Mine's out of juice." He explains, sticking it in his back pocket before turning to the bartender once more, handing him a ten dollar bill, "And lemon iced tea for my friend here, she's looking a little parched."
With that and a brisk nod in Y/N's direction, Colby excuses himself from the interaction and heads back to the model of a woman who's quick to flash him a bright smile when she notices him approaching.
A sickening feeling settles in her gut. She can't believe any woman gets wound around his finger so easily. She might be biased but she just simply doesn't see it. She can't understand what gets girls within a five mile radius of him swooning.
That smile so many deem charming she finds cynical and fake. His eyes, although a pretty color, are hollow apart from the twinge of evil she sees every time they glare at her. His flirty, charismatic words could make her puke if exposed to them for an extended period of time. In short, she finds him repulsive.
Had they gotten off on a better foot maybe she would've even ended up in his bed on a few occasions by now. As they stand now, she'd rather sleep with Satan himself.
Still, she takes the iced tea, mostly out of curtesy but also because she is indeed dehydrated. She spares the table Colby has now taken a seat at a brisk glance just to find her eyes met with a pair of piercing blue ones once more.
She could strangle him, theoretically, but she won't. Not with this many witnesses around. Instead, she heads inside, looking for Sam and Kat in hopes of getting the last fifteen minutes out of her head.
* * * *
"What's up guys, it's Sam and Colby! And today we'll be investigating the Oasis Motel in Las Vegas. Known for its dark and unexplainable past and the reputation that precedes it today." Sam explains as they begin filming the intro to their video.
The group is currently standing outside the aforementioned motel. The exterior they were met with upon arrival was enough for Kat and Y/N to exchange a particular look. It's in an area off the strip, the surroundings accentuating the atmosphere and amplifying the creep factor.
"Unfortunately, we won't be able to stay at the hotel. They haven't been renting rooms for close to a decade to avoid any potential casualties. And by that I mean - suicides." Colby says, reciting the notes he both wrote and memorized on the car ride here.
"Yeah, this motel is known for two specific suicides that happened here. Specifically in room 20." Sam adds, listing the sightings that have been allegedly witnessed by staff and guests alike before the motel was shut down for business.
The place now just stands ominously as a haunted attraction of sorts. It's meant to honor the memory of the two people who took their own life there but it's clear they have purposefully added to the fear factor to attract more people like Sam and Colby.
That still doesn't take away from the fact that just looking at the building settles an uneasy feeling in Y/N's gut.
She's always been curious about the paranormal but never went out of her way to seek answers. The only reason she's been joining the gang for paranormal investigations is because Kat often begs her to. And she's always had a hard time turning down her best friend, about anything.
So, here she is, sighing as she follows Sam and Kat inside the barely lit lobby of the motel where the staff member who's gonna be giving them a tour is waiting for them.
Before she can fully cross over the doorstep, she feels a finger trail over her arm, running over the very prominent goosebumps that have appeared on her skin.
"Aww, is someone scared?" The mockery in Colby's voice drains any sort of fear or uncertainty she was feeling before.
She whirls around to face him, nostrils flaring when she sees his coy smirk, "Get your fucking hands off me before I knock you the fuck out." She snarls between clenched teeth.
His smile only widens, becoming a tad more genuine now, "That's more like it. Don't be a pussy."
She's about to retaliate with a string of insults that's make a sailor blush when Sam, thankfully, interrupts her, "Guys! Come on!"
The fucker was saved by divine intervention this once, but Sam won't always be there to shield him from Y/N's wrath - he's very aware of that. Time and time again they've screamed their lungs out at one another just to storm off to fill them with nicotine for a potential round two.
In a way, that is a love language too, right? Well, if you ask Kat, that is. Though she isn't completely wrong. The opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference. And these two are most definitely not indifferent to one another.
Speaking of Kat, she doesn't fail to sneak a peek at the hostile interaction between the two. She nudged Sam's ribs to point it out and smacked his arm when he put a stop to it. Although that was the best course of action to prevent Colby losing any teeth tonight, curtesy of Y/N's fist.
Ok, that's a bit of an exaggeration.
She may have spit a million threats his way over the many year they've known each other, but never once did she go through with them.
"Hi, guys. I'm Scott, and it's an honor to be welcoming y'all to the Oasis." The man, who they now know as Scott, introduces himself as he turns on an old tall lamp by what used to be the front desk of the motel. "I hope you're ready to capture some great footage tonight. We're giving you a time frame till 2 AM which is an exception we rarely make, but this one over here is a smooth talker." He says, smiling slyly over at Colby who was the one that placed the call to the motel before they added the place to their itenirary.
Colby, in turn, shrugs, a grin plastering itself on his face, "I mean..." He chuckles, causing Y/N to roll her eyes, "No, jokes aside, I can't thank you enough for bending the rules for us."
It baffles her how charming he can be. She can't help but wonder at times why she wasn't deemed worthy of this pleasant side of him. Not that she hasn't grown somewhat fond of their dysfunctional dynamic - not that she'd ever admit it - but she still wishes she knew.
And she hates it.
Instead of dwelling on it, she busies herself with the fear that's still lingering on the backburner. She'd much rather be scared of whatever's waiting for them in this motel than what she might find if she keeps digging in her mind.
* * * *
"What is your fucking problem?!"
The tension has been building all night, both between Y/N and Colby and from the paranormal aspect of it all.
Glares thrown in from across the room. Light, supposedly accidental touches, some even meant to startle her. Lingering behind her or always looming close to her, reminiscent of her literal shadow.
He's rarely so bold with his proximity to her. He respects her personal space and tends to keep himself at an arm's length regardless of the place they're in. But for some reason, not quite clear to him yet, he's been keeping himself close to her the whole night. Either it's from a certain need to protect her or an inherent need to annoy her into continuously acknowledging his presence, he can't tell.
But by now it's reached a boiling point.
What pushed the situation past Y/N's tolerance threshold was getting scared out of her skin by Colby who, by design of the challenge, wasn't supposed to be anywhere near her. They were less than five minutes into their solo investigations - Sam, ever the challenger, took room 20; Kat is in the restaurant, Y/N is in room 33 and Colby was supposed to take on the attic.
However, he didn't quite last long.
At the first sound of mild panic coming from room 33, which is directly underneath the attic, Colby immediately took off down the stairs, nearly taking the door off its hinges and scaring the ever-loving daylight out of Y/N.
That is what provoked this reaction from her. And now that we're up to speed...
"I thought you were in danger." He explains, quietly shutting the door behind him as he approaches the bed where she's sat.
"Jesus, Colby, you gave me a heart attack!" She groans, squeezing the bridge of her nose in frustration, suddenly antsy in her seat, "I'm not new to this shit! I've been doing this for years with you guys! I get that you may not see me but that doesn't mean I'm not there!" Her heart is still racing, her breathing shallow. Her chest is heaving despite the hand she's placed overtop it in an inefficient attempt at calming herself down.
A few steps closer on his part make her even more uneasy. She gets up to her feet to level the ground between them somewhat. There is something so vulnerable in sitting down with him standing over her. Dare I say, intimate.
"I see you." He says almost bitterly, "Oh, I fucking see you, Y/N. You're always there, always in my viewpoint. Always just a step out of arm's reach. And I hate it. Or try to. You piss me off so bad I can't even put it into words without sounding fucking insane!"
He's close, too fucking close. The chain hanging from his jeans brushes against the exposed skin of her thigh, sending chills all over her body. It makes her wish her shorts were longer. Makes her wish she could push him away, keep her guard up, keep up her mean front.
But when fingers tangle in her hair, his hand cupping the back of her head, she knows it's too late for any of that.
Their lips are barely an inch apart, the two practically sharing the same breath. Still, her pettiness dies screaming with one last whispered, "Fuck you."
With that, all barriers, both physical and metaphorical, come crashing down as their lips collide with the force of seven years worth of tension. Seven years of denial masked as aggression and annoyance. Every word spat out in anger, every glare, every passing touch, every 'flirty' moment. It's all condensed into a hostile collision of lips, biting teeth and battling tongues.
Y/N's hands intertwine at the back of his neck while his travel down to her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. Their connection is airtight, the heat between their bodies increasing the need to pull back to breathe, though that's the last thing they wanna do. It's been far too long for it to end this soon.
Her legs threaten to give out. It's all too much too fast and too unbelievable. Thankfully, Colby seems to feel the same.
He softly pushes her down on the bed, smiling in the kiss at the zero complaints he receives in response.
"You're so sweet when you wanna be." He pulls back for just a second, his hand cupping her chin.
She's quick to smack it away. He expected nothing else. "Shut the fuck up."
He chuckles almost darkly as his hand now settles around her throat, "Adorable." He's aware he's pushing his luck, but then again it's always a gamble with her. This time, he might just luck out.
Their lips have no time to reconnect though, much to their dismay.
"Colby! Y/N! Where are you guys?!"
Sam's voice reaches them from the lobby downstairs, forcing them apart instantly. A deer in headlights look flashes across both their faces as they hurry to create as much distance between them as possible.
Colby swears he sees any hope he had sink right before his eyes. He watches the realization of what just happened dawn on Y/N. Now that the heat of the moment has evaporated, it becomes all too real and all too clear to her what a mistake that was.
"Guys?!" This time it's Kat's voice bouncing off the walls, coupled with the sound of footsteps on the stairs.
He's panicking, not really sure as to exactly why. Whether it's because he'll have to explain this predicament to his friends or because he can see Y/N starting to regret said predicament in real time, he's not sure. Either way, he needs to come up with something, fast. If his brain can kick back into gear after his whole world was briefly thrown off its axis.
"Go." It comes out as a whisper but it bounces around in his head like an earthquake.
"What?" His tone mimics hers, afraid that a single note higher would ruin what little tranquility they've managed to maintain while there's full-on storms raging in their minds.
Her eyes are trained on the floor, hollow with a thousand yard stare. She can't look at him, unsure as to why. She just knows she can't. "Go. Get out. This never happened." When she finally wills herself to meet his eyes she can feel the burning of tears at the back of her throat, "Forget this ever happened."
Footsteps grow closer but they still have leeway to get away with it with just a white lie.
"Go. Now!" She repeats, a bit more fervor in her words now. She gives him no room to reply as she ushers him away but he isn't capable of stringing words together right now anyway.
So, he obliges, going against all his instincts telling him the opposite. And he does so on time as well, shutting the door behind him just as a tear rolls down Y/N's cheek.
What a fucking mistake, they once again sync up, sharing the same exact thought. Though they silently agreed to forget everything that just happened, they're both well aware it won't leave their brain for the foreseeable future.
If ever.
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live-laugh-lenney · 7 months
Note
A little bit of smut please🫣
Lingerie reaction for Arthur and George
i don't think i've done any kind of mature content for either of them yet so... jeez, i hope this is okay... i'm gonna write this for arthur, right now, and then maybe we can discuss george and his missus in lingerie...
arthur loves lingerie.
for someone that portrays himself as awkward and shy and almost completely innocent and practically virginal, he had a side to him that always sprung out whenever he was home alone with his girlfriend. a side that only came when he knew she had something special that she wanted to show him. a side that made him seem like a menace, almost like he was a horny teenage boy who had been left alone with his female celebrity crush, becoming touchy and needy.
she teases him.
she'll wear the lingerie beneath an article of his clothing that she had chosen to wear for the evening as they wound down from their busy days. whether it be his adidas jumper (which she loves and definitely stole from his wardrobe) or one of his baggy tees, it would be all she used as a cover up... stretching the neck so it showed her bra strap to tease him a touch when they were sat on the sofa and having it rolled up at the hem so her knickers were on show as she reached up high for the snacks on the top shelf in his kitchen... and she could hear his breath hitching in his throat when he realised just what she was upto.
"can you come and grab the biscuits from the top shelf?"
"you can get them," he hums from the sofa and he really didn't want to stand to his feet because the bulge in his pants had become even more prominent than he had hoped it would be, "i like the view from here."
"you're just a little pervert," she rolled her eyes and she's glad she has her back to him so he can't see the smirk that's sitting on her lips, "i just need some help from my very tall, very handsome man who just has the advantage."
"what do i get out of it?"
"a happy girlfriend," she retorts and he scoffs and rolls his eyes, his gaze barely leaving the plump cheeks of her bum and the floral lace that clung to her flesh, "please?"
she can hear him stand up, she can hear his feet padding across the open plan living room slash kitchen and she shudders at the feeling of his hands cupping her waist as she regained her normal height and stood back on flat feet rather than her tiptoes, teasingly brushing her behind against his crotch and feeling the result that she expected.
"you knew what you were doing," he whispers lowly, almost growling in her ear, and he traps her between the kitchen counter and his body and she makes no attempt at making a move away from him, "you're just a tease. a bloody tease."
"it worked though," she states, his fingers digging into her hips as he held her figure still, his hips slowly rocking back and forth and she could feel the friction of their clothes rubbing together, "what are you going to do?"
he turns her around and she takes a look at his face; his cheeks are pink, his eyes are darker, his jaw is tense and his lips are damp and wet from his tongue. hoisting her up on the kitchen counter and she needed no encouragement in undoing the knot of his bottoms and using her heels to push them to the floor, pooling at his ankles. his boxers stretching to accommodate the boner he was sporting. his fingers slide across the crotch of her knickers and she feels the chill in the air against her damp folds and he wastes no time in teasing at the bundle of nerves between her thighs... enough to make his cock twitch in his pants and she felt bad for keeping him restrained... her own fingers hooking into the elastic of his boxer shorts and pulling them down to his knees, freeing him and letting the cool air hit his exposed skin.
"where did you get this from?" he asks, lips brushing against hers as he leaned in for a kiss, his warm breath washing over her face and her own catches in her throat, his fingers collecting the moisture that was forming and coating his digits, "it's a shame you couldn't show me the whole thing."
"you were just too eager," she informs him, arms wrapping around his shoulders and her fingers digging into his hair, tugging at the tufts at the nape of his neck, "too eager. that was the plan."
"the plan on being fucked on the counter?" he questions and she can feel her cheeks flushing at the words rolling off of his tongue, "that was what you wanted, huh?"
"need to leave a memory in every room for you to remember," she grins and his lips greet hers with a hungry smooch that involved his tongue leaving his mouth and fighting against hers, her arms pulling him close and his hands gripping at her waist, pulling her closer and allowing the glistening tip of his cock to brush against her inner thigh and silently informing her just how needy he was, "it's all yours, baby."
and he doesn't need coaxing. he gave himself a couple of pumps with the fingers he used to spread her juices across the heat between her legs and lines himself up, gulping thickly and maintaining deep eye contact with her as he pushes his hips forward and fills her up with his entirety. her head rolling back and a deep, guttural groan rolling of her tongue from deep within her, matching the whimper that left his mouth as he pauses for a moment to let her adjust around his girth.
her sleeve-covered hands remain on his shoulders, her fingers still holding onto his hair with a tight grip in each fist, and she shudders and the goosebumps rise upon her skin as he attaches his lips to her neck and covers her skin with the softest kisses, his hips rocking back and forth and back and forth as he filled her with pleasure. her begs for him to go deeper filling the room, their heavy breathing and their heavy panting filling the gaps, her name escaping his mouth as she cries out from the thrill happening in that moment.
"let me know when," he insists, his hands trailing underneath the hem of the jumper on her body, his fingertips brushing over her bare skin, "let me know."
she nods and he drops his forehead to hers, eyes looking deeply into hers, and she can feel her toes beginning to curl. her thighs clench and she brings him closer by digging her heels into the base of his back, her hands cupping his cheeks and her mouth drop further and further open with each thrust he pushes into her, twitching between her walls and she swears, every single time, that he always knows the right spot and hits it every time.
"so good," she pants and she can feel the ache beginning to form in her belly, a burning sensation as she feels herself getting closer and closer to a release, "i'm so close, baby."
"so close," he repeats for himself and the sounds of his thrust start sounding sloppy and wet and he grunts out with a rasp in his throat and feels himself start to get weak at the knees, "c'mon, lovie. cum for me."
and it's all she needs to feel herself tense and clench down on his cock, their releases mixing together, and his rhythm becomes almost unrhythmic and each thrust is sporadic and almost like a burst of energy urges his hips forward. his head dropping to her shoulder, slowing his hips down, as she drops her cheek to the top of his head and squeezes her eyes shut.
"you're the best," he whispers into the cotton, sniffling before he lifts his head to look at her. his entire face glistening with sweat, his lips swollen from their kisses, his cheeks pink and his eyes no longer dark but full of lust and post-sex that always made him look heavenly, "the best."
he slowly pulls himself from within her and reaches down to pull his boxers back to his hips, followed by his bottoms, and she covers up by adjusting her knickers, knowing everything they were wearing was going to need to go in the next days wash. his arms wrap around her waist and her legs hook around his, her arms sitting on his shoulders, and he lifts her from the counter. koala-clinging to his front as he makes his way back to the sofa, making a mental reminder to give the kitchen counter a proper deep-clean before they went to bed... before anyone came back from their saturday night on the town... before george and arthur and chris had any inclination as to what had just happened.
"you'll wear that for me again, right?" he asks her and she yawns, nodding softly, "good."
"what did you think of it?"
"it's the sexiest one yet," he hums into her hair, pressing a kiss to her head before he closed his eyes, the feeling of her tucking the blanket around them making him feel cosy, "you can choose the movie. i'm too knackered to even think about those decisions right now."
"how about we just... go to bed?"
"i can't go again," he laughs softly and she scoffs and pushes his chest with her hands, "it's only half nine. we've got ages before the lads are back." xx
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Text
Dissimulate My Love
‣ Pairing: Touya Todoroki (Dabi) x GN!Reader
‣ Summary: Touya is in love with you. Despite his best attempts to keep his feelings hidden, Toga has caught on. She insists she is an expert on the subject of love and decides to help him, one way or another...
‣ Genre: Fluff
‣ Warnings: none
‣ Word Count: 1,949
‣ A/N: I wrote this on a whim tonight! I'm thinking this story is in need of a part two, what do you think? 🤔🤭
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The incessant chatter of the league members quickly turned into muffled background noise as Touya zoned out. He stared down at a random spot in front of where he sat at the end of the bar, his chin propped up on his palm with his elbow resting on the bartop. He had grown bored of hearing everyone debating what to do about the newest problem on their agenda. Tensions were beginning to rise over the subject at hand as they individually tried to convince their boss to go with their idea, all the while bickering back and forth with one another. It was entertaining at first, but Touya quickly found his thoughts being drawn to something else. Or rather, someone else.
You weren’t at the meeting with everyone else. At first, this concerned Touya, until he heard from Shigaraki that he had sent you off on a brief mission to collect information that would help them determine what to do about their current predicament. This only relaxed his nerves a little bit. He wished Shigaraki had sent him off with you as backup. He understood that the point of the mission was to be undetected in more of a public setting—which was definitely not his strong suit, due to his struggle to blend in with any “normal” backdrop—but the thought of you getting hurt without him around to protect you…
It scared him.
But he would never let you or anyone know that. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to think that he was soft.
He was. Big time. For you.
Unfortunately, Toga seemed to be onto him lately. How did he know?
She kept sending him teasing smiles and winks from across the room whenever you and him were interacting. On top of that, she wouldn’t stop giggling at the two of you and bringing you up at the most random of times—often when you were around to hear. He even overheard her bringing him up to you a few times.
“Isn’t Y/N looking extra pretty today?”
“Oh, Y/N! You should sit next to Dabi! He looks lonely over there, doesn’t he?”
“Dabi, Y/N said they’re cold. Just so you know…Well? Aren’t you gonna do something about it?”
Whether she was trying to play the role of “matchmaker”, or she simply got a kick out of embarrassing the hell out of him, he wasn’t quite sure yet. Either way, he was so close to teaching that brat a lesson of “minding her damn business”.
Admittedly, he did enjoy seeing you get flustered every time she put either of you on the spot. The way you shifted uncomfortably, barely able to bring your eyes to meet his as you looked everywhere else but him, the way you chewed at your lower lip and fiddled with whatever was in your hands. Normally, you were so composed, even intimidating, when you wanted to be. But in moments like those, he really loved to see that mask drop as you squirmed under his gaze.
God, you were too fucking cute.
“What are you smilin’ about?”
Touya was snapped out of his thoughts by a familiar voice. A frown quickly overtook his features as he sighed exasperatedly.
“You don’t have to answer that. I already know,” Toga said, smirking teasingly as she positioned her forearms on the opposite end of the bartop.
Touya almost growled at her. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but it better stop, brat.”
Toga’s face morphed into an innocent expression, though a devilish gleam remained in her eyes.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about! I’m just trying to help, is all.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Well, I don’t need your help.”
“I think you do. It’s pretty obvious. Well, actually, I’m the only one who’s caught on so far, but that could change…”
Touya’s jaw clenched at the sound of her subtle threat. He let out an irritated breath through his nose, nostrils flaring as the two of them partook in a silent staring contest until he finally spoke.
“What the fuck do you want?”
She giggled. “I just wanna see true love thrive! It’s rare to find on our side of the world, ya know?”
“Pass.”
“Hm…Wrong answer.”
“What the hell makes you think I’m in love?” he said under his breath, leaning in slightly as he spoke. He glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone was listening in on them.
Everyone was still debating and deliberating. Shigaraki was scratching at his neck as he pulled out his handheld game console, trying to tune everyone out. He had clearly given up on trying to shut everyone up. Thankfully, this worked in Touya’s favor.
“I don’t think, Dabi. I know,” Toga answered seriously.
Touya scoffed, rolling his eyes. “What? Are you an expert or something?”
She looked slightly offended for a moment, putting a hand to her chest dramatically as she spoke. “I have been in love more times than you ever will be, Dabi. I know love when I see it.”
Damn. Why did that sting a bit?
“It doesn’t matter. Even if I was, I’m not the relationship type. Not that they’d even want anything to do with me, anyway.”
Touya raised two fingers at Kurogiri, who was pouring a glass for himself behind the bar. Kurogiri nodded at him, taking the glass that Touya slid his way and filling the glass with his usual before sliding it back to him. Touya gave him a nod of appreciation as he took it and brought it to his lips.
If he was going to continue this conversation, he needed a drink.
“Are you kidding me?! Have you seen the way they look at you?! They are obsessed with you!” Toga argued.
He rolled his eyes again, taking another generous sip of his drink.
“Like I said, not the relationship type.”
“Oh, come onnn! You’re just gonna let love pass you by like that? What’s wrong with you?”
A self-deprecating chuckle fell from his lips. “Lots’a things. Nothin’ I wanna burden someone like them with.”
Toga groaned. “But you haven’t even asked them! Maybe they’d be cool with all your…things. That’s what love is all about!”
“Can we end this conversation, already?”
He watched as her eyes narrowed at him.
“Not if you want to keep your little crush a secret.”
Touya felt a growl brewing in the back of his throat, about to throw out his own devious threat until he was interrupted by the sound of someone calling your name.
“Y/N! You’re back!”
He turned around in his seat, feeling his heart rate increase at the sight of you.
“Chill the fuck out,” he told his heart, suddenly finding it hard to breathe properly.
He downed the rest of his drink as his eyes followed you all the way to Shigaraki, where you handed him a thin manilla folder. You were wearing a normal “civilian” looking outfit. Your hair was styled slightly differently than usual.
You looked hot. Or beautiful, or whatever. Touya never really could describe you properly. He wasn’t the best with words. All he knew was that the way you looked in that moment made his stomach do flips and his temperature grow hotter. His hands were starting to sweat as your eyes scanned the room, eventually landing on him.
Oh, shit. You were walking straight towards him.
Touya made sure to disguise his internal chaos, keeping up his usual stoic, aloof mask as you took the seat beside him.
Fuck, you smelled so good.
You smiled as you met his eyes. “Hey, Dabi.”
He cleared his throat. “Hey.”
A brief moment after, he asked, “How’d the mission go?”
“Good! Almost got caught at one point, but I managed to get out unscathed!” you explained.
His heart clenched at the thought. “Should’a brought me. I’m good for backup.”
“I asked Shigaraki, actually. He said no.”
That stupid crusty fuck.
You must have noticed a slight crack in his detached façade, because you were quick to speak again.
“But I can handle myself! I’m fine. That’s all that matters, right?”
He grunted in response, sending a sharp glare Shigaraki’s way, who caught his eyes and narrowed his own in return. Scoffing, he looked away, his attention landing on you again.
“Next time, tell me first.”
A small smirk grew on your face. “Are you worried about me, Dabi?”
“Shut up,” he snapped, with no real harshness to his tone. “Just stupid to go on your own, is all.”
“You don’t think I can handle myself?” you probed, looking at him, offended.
“Course’ you can. That’s not what I mean-”
“That’s what it sounds like to me,” you interrupted.
“It’s not-”
He stopped. Your inability to hide your little snicker tipped him off to your antics.
You were fucking with him. Somehow, you managed to get stoic, aloof Dabi semi-visibly worked up.
What the hell was he going to do with you?
“You’re such a little brat, you know that? You’re worse than Toga,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips as he looked at you, unable to disguise the fondness in his tone as said it.
You burst into a fit of giggles, and he couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle himself as he admired the scene before him. The way your eyes crinkled around the edges as you laughed, your perfect smile, the precious sound of your laughter filling his ears and soothing his burned and battered soul.
A girly giggle from further down the bar pulled him out of his trance. His eyes followed the sound, only to find Toga a few feet away, leaning against the bartop with her face resting in her palms and a dreamy smile on her face as she stared at the two of you.
Touya quickly shut down his smile, covering up his feelings that had managed to peek through. When he looked back to you, you were still smiling at him, your eyes soft as your laughter settled. You opened your mouth to speak, but Shigaraki beat you to it.
“Pay attention! I have a plan.”
Sighing, Touya only partially listened as he kept his eyes on you while you weren’t looking. His heart was still racing and his hands were still clammy, but he was now filled with an almost foreign sense of happiness that he’d rarely ever felt before, except with you. You made him feel…good.
Maybe Toga was right. Maybe this was love that he was feeling?
Even admitting it to himself made him feel sick. Dabi didn’t love.
But Touya did.
He nearly jumped when he heard a “psst” coming from behind him. He looked back to find Toga, again. This time, she was hunched behind him, reminding him of a little angel, or devil, on his shoulder as she whispered to him.
“You sure you don’t want my help?”
This time, Touya considered it. He didn’t have much of a choice. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that if he declined her offer to help, he would walk into a league meeting the next day to find everyone giving him teasing looks and relentlessly making fun of him. Even worse, you’d find out through the twisted tongues of others how he felt about you.
No. If you were going to find out about his feelings for you, it’d be from him.
You probably wouldn't find out anyway, so long as he could figure out some way to get Toga to back off and keep her trap shut. All he needed was some time.
Stealing one last glance at you, he sighed.
“Fine.”
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