#maybe ill get back into the flow of things

[baepsays]

CONTRADICTIONS OF TIME ⸻ Gojo Satoru.

cw : angst, canon adjacent, just sad shit in disguise of fluff sometimes, suicidal reader, themes of mental illnesses, doomed by the narrative, I am sorry.

They say it feels the most lonely to be surrounded by everybody but having no one to lean on. Being alone is entirely different from feeling loneliness. You can’t be alone in a room full of people. And you hope people understood that; maybe it'd make your life easier.

When everything becomes so mundane in the most suffocating way that the serenity you usually felt in random walks around the block, waiting for the train, or eating your meals turns into strenuous chores. It's never some exact time, day, or moment that you start feeling like this. It just happens. And it just does not want to go away as easily as it comes.

When someone offers the wonders of the world as a reason to look forward to living, you never have the energy to break it to them that the sun melting into the salty seawater or the moon illuminating the blanket of snow on the mountains and the forest of evergreen trees did not fascinate you when you were visited by these suffocating feelings. Feelings that make it impossible for you to feel anything else. 

As heartbreaking as it is to feel like this. But sometimes for others it is worse to feel that what validated their own perception of the world they've created in their mind, the glowing wonderful world, did not satisfy someone else. As someone who thinks the world is running at a speed ten times faster, to intentionally leave you behind, you did not have it in you to be the bearer of the bad news. So you always nodded and went along with what people said.

‘It’ll be alright.’ Right?

It is upsetting to see people strive so hard for such validation. But who were you to take that away from them? Life is an unpredictable course of mess; who knows what or whom you might come across and what might happen literally the next second? But one thing was clear: you did not want to be the catalyst of someone else's misery.

There hasn't been a single day that Gojo Satoru didn't regret meeting you in this life.

It was no fateful day. It could have been just any random Wednesday, but things certainly did not go like that. Satoru was sitting on the bench he always went back to after a busy day; it faced the riverbank, and he only ever saw the sun set from there. But that Wednesday, he saw you standing by the railings that stood as a barrier between you and the river. From what he could see, the brief glimpse of your eyes behind the loose strands of your hair flowing in the air—there was no sense of survival in them. Not in a way where one just flaps around in the water and drowns deeper, but in a way that if you somehow fell in the water, you'd not even try to get to the surface.

In a way, your eyes looked empty; even the dazzling sunset didn't shine in your irises.

So, Satoru ran, as fast as he could, to get to you. He couldn't let you slip out of his grasp. He can't let another person just wither in front of his eyes. “Hey!” He dragged you back towards him, taking quite a few steps back until you two were in the bike lane. You stood there with scrunched brows looking at some blindfolded guy holding you by your arm. A few bikers passed by you two and yelled at you two to get off the bike lane.

He just ignored them. “I am Gojo Satoru.” You just blinked at him and looked to your left, and when you saw a few more bikers coming, you pushed him back by his chest to get off the bike lane. You wondered why he felt so cold; it almost felt like you didn't even touch him. Or maybe that you couldn't touch him. 

“Do you usually introduce yourself this horribly?” 

You wouldn't say it was fate that you met Gojo Satoru. It was not fate when you stumbled into his life, the life he lived on with a smile on his face despite everything that pulled him down. It was no fate that he meshed so easily into your own life, how easy it came to him to love you. But it was probably your unfortunate fate that you could not do the same.

“In a perfect world, I'd kiss you goodbye before leaving for work every day. I'll make you lunch and nag you for eating too many sweets.” You lie on your side, facing him, staring at his beautiful blue eyes shining in the moonlight.

“I would make sure you and the kids don't stay up too late watching shitty movies all night.” Satoru smiled as he stared at your face, completely veiled in the shadow of the dark room.

“I’ll somehow convince you to join us.”

“I’d have to make sure Megumi and Tsumuki aren't embarrassed by your antics in front of their friends.”

The laughs and smiles died down in mere seconds. And the air was heavy; it has always been that way around you two. It was not tension; it was some form of desperation—to hold onto each other as long as you possibly could.

“I'll make sure you don't have to burden yourself with the weight of the world all by yourself. And double-check your taxes—because I know you just leave everything to your accountant.” One of your hands unknowingly reached out to touch his face. He nuzzled into your hand instinctively and held your hand in place, like it could slip any moment.

“Yeah. I don't even look at it.”

“It's not a good thing.”

“I know that.”

“I want to make you dinner every night.” He pressed your hands in his cheeks a bit more as he spoke.

“Ok. You would have to do the laundry as well.”

“I will. And I'll make the bed every morning and run you a bath every night. Detangle your hair when you forget to brush it, and hold you tight until you fall asleep every night.”

You couldn't take this anymore. It was getting harder. It has been hard, but it's getting worse by the day; you could feel it eating you alive from your core. Soon enough there wouldn't be any trace of you left behind. And you wanted it to be sooner rather than later. You cannot lie beside him like this every day and pretend like if he were to go before you, things wouldn't be the same. You would just have to live on, in his name. Because that was the only thing he wanted from you: to grow and surpass these memories he shared with you. And you can't give him that if he wasn't even there to hold you by your hands.

“I would marry you and give you kids who look a little like you and a little like me if I could. In another life I would.” You could feel the corners of his eyes getting wet on the tips of your fingers. And you wanted to wipe them away, but you didn't. And he wanted to let them pour out for you to wipe them away, but he couldn't.

“Why not in this life?”

“Because we can't. We're running out of time.” 

It was not fate that you met Gojo Satoru in this lifetime. It was just unfortunate that the only times you didn't feel lonely or alone were when he left his shirt hanging on your balcony to dry, his blindfold under your pillows, his sunglasses on your bedside table, and little sticky notes with doodles of himself as his signature stuck on your refrigerator. It was just unfortunate timing on both of your parts.

You could only hope that in another lifetime, he was your fate, and you were his.

TO FIND MORE OF MY WORKS CLICK HERE

a/n: dividers by @/enchanthings-a

cooking in my drafts for a while, i felt damned enough today to post it

tag list: @cheralith @madamechrissy @gojosperms @satoblue @cuntphoric @cuntyji @cuntphoric @aishi-toru @rriwyu @exquisink @lover-lyn @buckysm @wwwritererm @soupicidesquad @indiewritesxoxo @gojosconsort @shouiow @user25384959574 @dxmnsaera @kazupop @slayzzz @undercvrfan444 @miizuzu @getoistic @infinitatis-ink @theorphicangel @ricecake-mochi @emochosoluvr @bakugouswaif

[mediumgayitalian]

Can you recommend long fics preferably over 200k words pls (all solangelo centered) 😞

okay so i searched through all my bookmarks and, unfortunately, ive only got 3 fics over 200K, two of which i'm certain i've already recced, and one i'm not quite done myself (but that i am enjoying a lot):

august by @cordelia---rose

Somehow, Nico's life only gets more confusing after he defeats a primordial Goddess. Will Solace accounts for about 90% of that confusion. (A journey through August, and all its ups and downs.)

i have recced this series once i have recced it a thousand times. it is my own personal canon. as long as my fics do an okay job reflecting the will and nico here, i'm happy. august (will's version) has to be one of my favorite fics ive ever read and the updates keep me sane. i LOVE this fic. there is such care in it. it is done so amazingly well and cordelia, in general, is an EXCEPTIONAL author with an unbelievably good handle on characterization and humor.

2. PJO Arranged Marriage/Royalty AU by @gatesofember

In a fictional world inspired by 18th century Europe, Artemis arranges the marriage of Will, the illegitimate son of Duke Apollo, and Nico, the Prince of Pluto. Percy, Prince of Neptune, marries his lover and childhood friend, Annabeth, a foreign heretic native to the islands in the north. After his older sisters pull out of the succession and his fiancee leaves him, Jason, Crown Prince of the Juvian Empire, faces the manipulative power of his stepmother alone...until he finds a new woman to marry.

i love this fic. it is unfinished however and will remain so. ember has an ending outlined on their blog, and who knows, anything can happen. lol. HOWEVER this is definitely worth the read. if anything it will inspire a royal au that lives in your head, like it lives in mine. plot was so so so so catching.

3. Will Solace and the Socialites of Olympus University by @sarcasmandships

Will Solace has enough problems. Between juggling two jobs, surviving pre-med classes, and making sure his roommates don’t burn down their Harlem apartment, the last thing he needs is a hopeless crush on campus legend Nico di Angelo. But try telling that to his heart. Nico and his rich, mysterious, ridiculously good-looking best friends (affectionately dubbed “Nico and the Seven” by students who can only dream of being that cryptic) are the stuff of gossip and wild rumours. Mafia ties? Maybe. Vampire coven? Sure. Time travelers from an alternate dimension? Definitely plausible. Will’s sure he’s never stood a chance… until a spilled drink, a cigarette on a balcony, and one very unexpected dinner invitation send him spiralling into Nico’s orbit. Now he’s stuck somewhere between flirting and a full-blown existential crisis. Because falling for Nico di Angelo was not part of Will’s academic plan; and he’s about to learn that extra credit doesn’t cover emotional disasters.

ongoing, but excellent. i am on....chapter 11?? i think?? so a quarter through. i broke and read ahead to some of the smut lol. and some of the prequel also bc it is excellent. but i am back on the straight and narrow and reading this painful slowburn persist. i am very excited to see where this goes bc anything stella writes is a BANGER and im not just saying that bc we're moots. she genuinely has a very good idea on how to write the push and pull and flow of a relationship, from romantic to platonic to in between and outside.

okay that's it that i have for 200k+. however. i have SEVERAL 20k+ fics?? if you would like?? shoot me an ask and ill do a list of those

[goozeghost]

That one scene from the first book or whatevar 🤷‍♂️

Told yall i could make actually good art

[clumsypuppy]

i cant go back to that life man

[livingmybestfakelife]

Waiting to Exhale

Elijah “Smoke” Moore x Reader

The hospital stank of sulfur and various of other chemicals used in an attempt to reduce the illness that was causing such suffering to the current patients of Mercy Hospital. You were one of the victims fighting tuberculosis, it weakened your already fragile body quickly. Being born with a scarred lung did you no favors, and even the best doctors in the state had little hope for your survival, they didn’t say it but you could see it in their eyes that they weren’t confident that your body would accept the treatments.

One of the frequent visitors you had was your childhood friend Elijah “Smoke” Moore. He hated seeing you so beat down by this disease. He’d give anything for it to disappear from your fragile body. But he had no choice but to impatiently wait for some hope that the treatments would work, and you’d bounce back to your old cheerful and mischievous self. But the other part of him knew there wasn’t much hope, and having to face that realism wasn’t something he was ready for.

“You shouldn’t be wasting your time being here and worrying about me. You have a business to run”

He wipes some more sweat from your forehead, ignoring your words.

“Were you able to eat anything this morning?”

“Elijah, you should go on back to your off-“

“Did you?”

You let out a frustrated sigh at his stubbornness

“A little bit, I managed to eat half a bowl of oatmeal”

“Good….that’s good”

“Listen….Smoke, as much as you don’t want to hear this, all they’re doing is making sure I’m comfortable bef-“

“NO-no, don’t talk like that alright, you’re getting out of this alive and well, I won’t have it any other way”

“It’s not your decision Eli….it’s all in God’s hands now honey, please, let this be a positive last moment between us, okay?”

Your scratchy voice burned his heart. Gone was your smooth honey vocals that softened his spirit, now it had withered away in less than a week, he couldn’t take it anymore, when he said he wouldn’t have it any other way he’d meant it. After a nurse came in and told him that visiting hours were over, he kissed both your cheeks and lips and told you he’d see you later.

When he stepped out of the hospital he was met by Stack leaning up against the brick wall.

“How’s she doing?”

“She ain’t got much long until….”

“I know….I know brother”

“Stack, I….you know I don’t want this but”

“You want her”

He nods while chuckling, the tears are burning his eyes as the flow got heavier.

“I love that girl more than myself, I’d give up all this shit if she told me to”

“I know Smoke, I know you will, you’re in love it’s only natural, don’t we all do crazy things when we’re in love?”

His hand is resting on Smoke’s shoulder, they’re eye to eye now, Stack trying to make him understand his point, his real point.

“…..Don’t hurt her Stack-“

“It won’t be like how Mary did me, she won’t feel a thing”

Stack pulls him into a tight embrace before he enters the hospital.

———————————————————————————

You open your eyes to your hospital room darker than how it was when Smoke visited. The sun was setting quickly, and by how you’re feeling, it would be a miracle if you made it through the night. Something else catches your eyes, you squint a little to see a manly figure hovering over your bed, the fragrance wafting off of him was strongly familiar to you.

“Who is….” You could barely even talk, it hurt to breathe

“It’s gonna be alright cherie”

“No….no no no Stack please don’t”

“Shhhh”

You couldn’t fight him if you tried, your body had given up any strength you had left, and Stack had your limp wrist in his mouth in no time. He kept his word to Smoke, it felt like a little pinch, maybe a bug bite, but it wasn’t violent like how it was the night when he and others were turned. He finally removed his mouth and kissed your palm before gently placing your arm back down.

———————————————————————————

You and Stack walk out of the hospital as if nothing ever happened, you especially felt as though all those months of suffering never happened. You smiled when you saw Smoke and ran into his waiting arms, after sprinkling his face with kisses you squeezed him tighter in a hug, letting him swing you around, he took one look at his brother, who had a small cocky smirk on his face. This was the way, no more being trapped with mortal ailments, both physically and spiritual. Stack had won this battle with Smoke, he was able to manipulate the love his brother felt for their childhood friend, one down and hopefully soon, another to go.

“Thank you” Smoke mouthed to him and Stack gave him a salute before walking off home to Mary, letting the both of you have your moment together.

“First thing tomorrow you’re going to work Elijah, no more worrying about me, you have a business to run”

He chuckled and leaned down to kiss you

“Whatever you want baby, it’s yours”

[thatonetargaryen]

My Tears Ricochet

Ambessa Medarda x Reader

Part One of: Our Tears Ricochet

Synopsis: You and Ambessa have been married for nearly two decades—and your love was one many people could only dream of achieving. But when your wife leaves overseas to visit her daughter, you strained relationship finally reaches it’s peak.

cw; afab!reader; angst ; infidelity ; local cuisine makes an appearance ; suggestive behavior ; Ambessa being a bad wife

Special thanks to @hell0-ki55y for the prompt. I hope you like it :). Might do ‘Pretty In Pink’ one next.

……

The warm ocean breeze flowed through your (h/c) hair as you gazed upon the horizon. The ship slightly rocked side to side, and you knew you were bond to get seasick soon.

You were currently on your way to visit your wife—the formidable General Ambessa Medarda. She had recently took leave from Noxus to come to Piltover, though her reasons were scattered. You two shared a constant stream of letters back and forth, and she told you how the journey went and her rants of disgust towards the council. Sometimes that’s all she wrote to you about. You didn’t mind. What you did mind—however—was when the letters stopped coming.

It started off small—you wrote one letter to her and didn’t get a reply. Simply shrugging it off and saying to yourself ‘maybe it got lost in the mail’, you sent another….and another…and another. It didn’t take long for you to suspect something.

Piltover was as greedy as they are unpredictable. While you doubt they would’ve done anything to Ambessa (considering they would lose much,much more than they’d gain), you wouldn’t take any chances. Anything could’ve happened.

She could’ve fallen ill—or worse. At first the thought of it simply slipping her mind was there, but it quickly vanished. Ambessa was never one to let anything associated with you slip her mind.

What really set your suspensions high was when her daughter, Mel Medarda—who you had a close relationship with for most of her life, one you cherished—replied to a letter you sent asking about Ambessa.

‘You should come see for yourself.’

The sentence left you in a state of confusion—but also reassurance. Ambessa was fine, but….something was wrong. It wasn’t how your wife doing….

It was what your wife was doing.

……

The ship finally arrived at the docks of Piltover. The few servants and guards that were aboard the ship disembark and helped you unload the few bags you brought with you.

You looked around—searching for Ambessa. You had sent a letter saying you were worried for her and would sail there, but you knew she hadn’t gotten it.

Instead, you were met with the council member and your lovely step-daughter—Mel.

She smiled as you approached. It had been a while seen you’d seen each other, and she towered over you. You engulfed her in a big, warm hug—one that she seemed to desperately need.

“Oh, Mel…”, you said into her shoulder.

“Mother…”, she whispered back. She had gave you the title years ago, yet sometimes, you still felt you didn’t deserve it.

The two of you shared a moment of silence, taking in each other. Her gaze was soft and warm, yet pity lied beneath it.

You smiled and held onto her shoulders. “Mel, look how much you’ve grown!”

She laughed, “Wish I could say the same for you.”, she said as she gazed down at your shorter frame.

You bumped your hip against yours as you two intertwined your arms. “I stopped growing many, many years ago. It’s something I’ve came to peace with.”

The two of you continued to talk as your servants and guards trailed you with your few belongings. You commented on the things you saw, asked Mel how her position as a councilwoman was, and who her new boy-toy was all about. She visibly cringed when you brought him up. Though, she would’ve dwelled more on that topic than the one involving the whole reason you came here.

“What’s going on with your mother?”, you finally asked.

Mel looked around, now slightly uncomfortable. She replied to you with a simple “Hm” as the two of you continued walking. You halted her in her tracks.

“Hm? Really? Your mother’s acting weird..and now you too?”

She bit the inside of her mouth before she sighed, now fully facing you. “Did you notice anything strange before she left?”

You were taken aback by her question, but after a moment of thinking , you answered, “Well, she has been quite distant as of late. But, you know how she can get. And she hasn’t been reply to the letters I’ve sent her.”

Mel looked at you as if she had solved a puzzle—the thoughts connecting in her mind. But there wasn’t an ounce of celebration on her face. She grabbed both of your hands, contemplating what to say next. “I’ll take you to see her. She’s not far from here.”

You looked at Mel in confusion, while she took you softly by the hand and led you towards Ambessa.

The rest of the walk was spent in an uncomfortable silence.

……

You arrived at a beautiful building. While the sight of it was breathtaking—it was as just as plain as the rest of Piltover.

Mel nodded towards the entrance. “She’s in there”, she whispered.

You nodded, and signaled for your servants and guards to wait here. You hiked your skirt and began to ascend up the white stairs. You spared one more glance in Mel’s direction, and found her speaking with your servants and guards. Your excitement was uncontrollable as you got closer and closer to the entrance. You hadn’t seen your wife in weeks—and the things you wanted to do to her were unspeakable. You bit your bottom lip just thinking about it.

For a moment, you could hear was sounded like men’s laughter. You brushed it off, until you heard it again—though this time it was muffled.

What had taken you aback the most—however—was the sound of your wife’s deep, low breaths. The ones she made when she…

No.

After an eternity, you reached the top of the stairs. And it took everything in you not to scream right then and there.

There Ambessa was, her back turned to you as she sat upon a large, lavish couch. From where you stood, you could see her the coils of her grey hair fall on her shoulders as she laid back. Sat perched on her lap was a man—with fiery auburn hair and pale skin. He was petite and charming—almost like a woman. His lips were full as he licked them and his green hungry eyes raked over your wife’s frame.

Her honey-kissed hands roamed his body in ways only she had promised to touch you in. You felt a mix of emotions all at once at the sight. Anger, resentment, confusion, surprise, sadness. You wanted to scream and shout. Every painting and vase in the room didn’t know how much you wanted to break it.

But instead of doing any of that, you simply whispered her name.

“Ambessa?”

The man’s eyes shot open as he suddenly looked towards you. Embarrassment and surprise was evident on his face, but he made no move to get off Ambessa’s lap.

Your wife finally turned around to catch your eye, and you’d never seen her looked so surprised. Looking her in the eye was your breaking point as you rushed out the room, hot tears streaming down your face.

“Y/N!”, she called out your name, but to no avail. She moved to get up, but noticed the twink still on her lap.

“Get off me, you fool!”, she roughly pushed him off. He fell to the floor with a thud and stared at Ambessa’s frame as she raced out the room. The wine was long gone—now spilled across the once white pristine floor.

“Wait! Y/N!”, she called out once again. She looked around frantically, and noticed some of her guards stationed at the bottom of the stairs.

“Stop her!”, she commanded, but they ignored her as they ushered you into a car.

Mel closed the door just as her mother was about to approach. She pulled on the handle, only to find it locked.

She stopped to look inside the glass, and found the last person she was expecting—Mel. She looked at her mother sternly in disappointment through the glass. There wasn’t an ounce of sympathy. She simply shook her head. With a wave of her hand, the car was off.

Ambessa stood there dumbfounded, angry, and regretful.

[sevgilimsatoru]

Error 410: (Self Aware!AU, Caleb Edition) Part 2

Part: 1 Part: 3 Part:4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 A/N Summary: A self aware!AU with Caleb and NonMC! reader. Tags: Caleb x reader, Caleb x NonMC! reader, Caleb x fem!reader, Stressedout!reader. Hypersexual!reader Trigger warnings: Masturbation, Mentions of slight sexual themes? Disgust in response to said sexual themes? Word Count: 1k

Inspired by: @ittybittyfanblog A/N: Hi, first of all, thanks for all the support. I really appreciate each and everyone of you. The only thing that I want to keep constant with my reader or Non!Mc is that she is hypersexual. Hypersexuality: It is referred to as compulsive sexual behavior or sex addiction, It's an intense focus on sexual fantasies, urges or behaviors that can't be controlled.  I wanted my reader to be hypersexual because I feel like this is still a hush topic even in safe spaces for people who are suffering from mental illness. Hypersexuality is often a trauma response from the brain of kids who were groomed, S/Aed or just got the unfiltered internet access at a young age and saw things that they shouldn't. If you don't feel comfortable with reading it, it's alright. You can just scroll past that part and I will make sure it's not too long or too frequent but it will be present. Hope you enjoy!!

"The best way to keep a prisoner from escaping is to make sure he never knows he's in prison" "-Fyodor Dostoevsky"

Silence, finally. Sweet, calm silence. You never knew how much you appreciate silence until the screeching loudness of your alarm blared throughout the room.

God.., when did you even set an alarm? You were sure you had made to turn off all your alarms a few days ago. Ugh.. You slowly opened your eyes. Wanting to stop that annoying noise and sleep a little more.

But the dryness in your mouth was probably a good reminder to wake up and drink some water. You really didn't need the hassle of going to a doctor because of dehydration. Your hand reaching out to pick up your phone and shutting the damn alarm off. The noise you let out when you finally got off the bed was between a whine and a groan. Rubbing your eyes, you walked inside the kitchen. Pouring yourself a glass of water. You took a sip- the cold liquid flowing in your mouth and down your parched throat. Quickly finishing the glass of water, pouring yourself one more. The liquid dripped down your chin with how quickly you were drinking it. Like a man dying of thirst in the middle of a desert. You panted slightly, pulling a glass away from your lips, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Wow, that felt so much better.. Your mom would taunt you to death if she saw you like this. Maybe you should start taking care of yourself.. But first, you should make some breakfast- now that you thought about it.., did you have dinner last night? Opening your fridge, you were greeted with a sad sight, there was almost nothing inside except a few slices of bread, two eggs and a few vegetables along with a little more than half a carton of milk.

That was more than enough for you to feed yourself today- maybe you should ask your parents for money, stock up the fridge. Yeah, maybe.. they had insisted to pay for your expenses even after it had been a struggle to convince them that you could live on your own. Taking out the eggs and vegetables, you placed them on the kitchen counter. Running the tap water to wash the vegetables. "I can make an omelet, it'll be quick an easy," You thought, letting out a small hum. It did get lonely living alone.. Closing the tap of water, you walked over to your room, picking up your phone and unlocking it. "Omelet.. omelet.. hmm" You muttered, scrolling through your phone, opening youtube. One of the first few videos you saw was an omelet tutorial. Wow. Isn't that awfully convenient? Oh well, doesn't matter. It didn't take long for you to make the omelet, it was actually pretty good. Much better than any omelet you've made before. You still had to shower, clean up your apartment, clean the dishes, do the laundry. That was a lot of work but well, you can do all that.. slowly.

Time passed and before you knew it, it was afternoon. With a sigh, you laid down in your bed. All that work was unsurprisingly exhausting. But you had actually gotten things done, isn't that great? You deserved a pat on the back.

You scrolled through your phone- tumblr, reddit, youtube.. but there was nothing new, nothing interesting. You felt bored.., you felt empty. One of your hands slipping in between your thighs, tapping against the fabric of your sweatpants. The urge had been there all day to just.. feel good. You really didn't feel like doing it.., you had just showered, changed your clothes, done laundry. But it would feel so good..

You shouldn't..

It would feel amazing though. And that rush of dopamine would feel so great. But.. It'll be quick.. just once? You'll stop after one orgasm. Yeah, just once. Sure.. just once- it always started with just once. You couldn't help the disgust blooming in your stomach as you shoved your stained sheets and sweatpants in the washing machine.

This was gross and so were you. The high felt good.., it felt so so good. But when it was over- the feeling of nausea and disgust was enough to make you feel repulsive.

Getting yourself off wasn't a bad thing.. once, twice even three times a day wasn't bad but fuck, when you started you couldn't just stop. What the hell was wrong with you? What sort of guy would ever like a girl like you? ..Why did that even matter, who cares what sort of guy would like you. You were really loosing your mind, it was just a matter of time before you cracked, you were sure.

You sniffled, blinking away the tears that were starting to form. No. You were not going to cry over this. You wanted to do something else, anything else to stop this train of thought. Picking up your phone, you opened Love and Deepspace.

Running back to him, just like a dog. You always did run back to him for comfort ever since you first saw Caleb after installing this game. Replaying the few and far scenes he had when he first appeared in the game. Who cares what sort of guy would like you? Caleb would.. he'd like you- no matter how you were, right? He'd adore you like he adored the MC right? Yeah, like it mattered how a fictional character made of pixels in a otome game thought of you. As if it mattered more than how actual people did. You really were insane. But does that matter, if he loves you? When the game finally loaded up, Caleb looked different. Worried.. That frown on his face which you found so adorable, his eyebrows scrunched together as he stared at you. As if he cared..

"Why are you looking at me like that, Caleb?" You said, talking to yourself in your empty room, not being able to help the smile that graced your face when you saw him. But it wasn't as bright as usual.., rather tired. "I worry about you, you know..?" Caleb said with a sigh, looking at you with a hand on his hips. His words felt like he was replying back to you. Was that a new line? You didn't see anything about a new update.. How strange but you really had no complaints. Caleb walked closer to the screen, reaching his hand out like every other time when he patted the MC's head. And like a fool, you almost leaned your head forward. Like you could actually feel his touch, his warmth. Oh, the things you'd do for him to be real..

You smiled at his concern, your eyes glued to the screen, running over his worried face. "I'll be fine, pretty boy" You muttered, as if he could hear you.

I'll be fine.., as long as you are with me. Tag list: @beewilko @browneyedgirl22 @aneertawrites @etsuniiru @demon-master-zero @angstylittleb1tch @mcdepressed290 @ittybittyfanblog @winwinwrites @alifyairl @huhleighna @calebsbeanpeeler @bookworrm1999

[miifu666]

I finally drew LMK wukong... while also making him yandere because uh.. i like yanderes, we need more yan!Wukong content pls 🙏🥹 anyway Heres my rendition of what yandere lmk sun wukong would be like.. maybe ooc, ive only watched season 1...

Also not proofread— At ALL

⋆˙⟡ — Cw : Yandere, Dub-con, ooc lmk Wukong?, art is wukong x oc but writing is Wukong x reader, not proofread.

I imagine Yan!Wukong to be the type who taunts you about his past actions, how feral and rebellious he was, able to defeat the entire heavenly army and scared the Jade emperor out of his wits just for existing in flower fruit mountain. This only happens when you disobey him ofc, you left the cabin? Denied his wants to feed you himself? Maybe its time to remind you who he is

" See how i was back then? I was a Savage, untamed even if i had that stupid crown around my head. You wouldn't want me to be like that now do you, Peaches? "

He's a sweetheart, Patience and Virtue is a thing he learned the most during his years of living. Yet, unpredictability is also his nature. Especially as a monkey king. There are times when he would tolerate you acting bratty, a bit Defiant is all fun, but when the day comes where he's fought too many Yaoguais, Demons, and Alike. All he wants is your comforting touch soothing him of his worries. The last thing he needs is your uncooperative attitude.

" Peaches... im not in the mood for this. Eat the food. Now. Ive been kind to you. It's either you eat the food or ill get rough."

Wukong is canonically someone who hasnt experienced any romantic nor sexual attraction, the moment he does. He doesn't have a clue on what to do. All he can think of is being in his monkey nature, which includes being possessive, territorial, dominating, and providing you with nutrients. He doesn't trust others enough to help him with his feelings, barely have the guts to ask Bajie if you're in a bad mood. He prefers to wait for others to give him advice (not that he'll take to account).

"MK doesn't know anything, he's a kid! He doesn't understand love like i do... like us adults do. Im doing this to PROTECT you, peaches!"

There might be times where he'll be more touchy than usual, conditioning you to feel comfort and used to his physical affection. Wukong is nothing but patient, he knows how to pavlov you into feeling relaxed once you feel his hands. You'll notice his punishments ranged from letting him groom you, mark you and finally letting him eat you out.

The euphoric bliss whenever he touches you or caught a whiff of your scent is tantalizing, Due to this, he prefers to be the one to serve you rather than you serving him. A king needs his Queen to bleed his heart into, not a concubine who perfoms.

" ah, ah ah~ Remember what i said? You either let me groom your pretty head or i might change things up a little..."

Wukong who gloats about the ring around your finger, making sure everyone. Even the heavens. Know, who you belong to. Theres no such thing as divine intervention, HE willed this fate, HE knit the red threads of fate till it spells your name. Theres an endless amount of love flowing through his heart for you, it seeps through timelines and past reincarnations. Even if your current life is done in this world, he'll continue on finding you. Binding you with him, gripping your heart so close till it beats in harmony with his. He'll make sure to leave an imprint of himself in your soul, even your future consorts needs to know him in order to understand you.

While you came from another world, your own destiny is temporary in his. Wukong will fight tooth and nails to defy the stars just to have you as his permanently. He'll create his own thread. His own happy ending with you.

And if theres anyone who dares to leak the rough details about your hostage love life... hes not known as the god of trickster for nothing

" if the moon and stars are reflection of the past, would they know how many lifetimes have i been loving you before our souls reconciled in this one?

Because i couldn't possibly have just learned to love you this much, all in this single lifetime"

Artwork ©️ Miifu666

Writings ©️ Miifu666

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

I Put A Spell On You.

‘Smoke’wants you back, and he’ll do whatever it takes.

(Part one maybe?)

I put a spell on you

Because you're mine

You better stop the things you do

I tell you, I ain't lying

I ain't lying…

Word got around that Smoke was back in town. You couldn’t miss him with his snazzy suit’s silhouette characterized by broad shoulders, a high waist, and wide-leg trousers. A quintessential element in a man’s wardrobe. The whispers traveled to many ears, but it was only one pair he was concerned with.

Rosetta Scott.

A dilly he’s obsessed with. His soft-spoken jazz singer. She ended their relationship when Smoke decided to up and leave New Orleans with his ill-tempered identical twin brother, but he promised he’d be back and to write him. After two years, he’s back and ready to stake his claim on his woman.

Smoke hopped out of his Cadillac 16 cylinder wearing round, small sunglasses with wired frames. He removed his 8-panel hat and shut the door behind him. Smoke took a long drag of his blunt while staring straight ahead with a lopsided grin.

The reflection within the circular lenses of his dark frames was one he’d missed for years. A living tapestry of culture, history, and an unmistakable passion for life. This place, with its rhythmic streetcars and the spicy aromas from its kitchens, isn't just alive; it breathes stories at every corner.

Stretching his long legs with a purposeful gait, his expensive gaiters picking up dirt, Smoke pushed open the withering, wooden, hinge doors leading into a lively establishment. The smell of fish fry, sweat, cheap cologne, weed, and sex titillating his nose caused a wide grin to spread across his thick lips. He slowly removed his sunglasses, revealing piercing, brandy-eyes and a primal desire.

There she was. Doing what she loved. He was joyful. Proud.

laidback with rhythmic flexibility.

That husky breathy tone.

Her vocals always had a very raw unedited feel which made her songs feel more real and personal. She also tends to use harmonies and layering which sometimes gives the song a drowning all consuming affect.

The silk of her flowing silver slip seemed to mold into her hourglass frame. The premium fur shawl she wore hung loosely from her glistening shoulders. Her lips the color of ox blood stained the mic in front of her. The swing and blues notes with complex chords blending with her sultry voice had everyone on that floor dirty dancing.

Smoke broke his eyes away reluctantly, taking off his suit jacket, placing it on the back of a chair. He ashed out his blunt and placed it in the front pocket of his crisp, white button down. Smoke made his way towards the bar, unbuttoning his sleeves and his shirt along the way.

“Yes, daddy! Play that saxophone!”

“Sing it Rose!”

“Let’s Jive!”

“Ooooweee! If it ain’t Mr. Smoke Stack himself! Come over here!”

Smoke chuckled deeply before dabbing up his uncle and the owner of the establishment; Buck. His liquor breath and gold teeth were two things you remembered about Big Buck. Or, how he’d like to call it ‘I’m Big Buck and I like to fuck’. And boy did he get his share of pussy. He had eight kids to prove it.

“Look at my nephew! Now hold on…where is your twin?” Buck’s yellowing eyes wandered around in search of him.

“He’s handlin’ business. No time to settle. You know how he get. I had to break away tho’ I got business to ‘tend to.”

Smoke accepted a glass of whiskey and took a long sip. It burned so good down his throat.

“Yeah, uh-huh. We know why’s you here! That gal. You know she’s seeing someone else, right?”

The corner of his upper lip fluttered with disdain at the thought of another man touching his bitch. Smoke wasn’t having it. One look into his eyes, she’d fall into his lap again. Wet puss and all. She wrote him often. Sent him pictures. He’d gotten them all. So, was she doing all that while messing with some squat-ass fool?

“Gimme the low down, Buck.” Smoke insisted impatiently.

“Aight, nephew. Another?”

Smoke raised his glass, “hold the hail. I don’t need no watered down shit. I’m tryna get swacked.”

Buck’s gut laugh filled the cramped space between them.

“You remember Phonzo?”

“Shid, not pussy ass Phonzo? C’mon now gal…”

“Damn straight. He wines and dines her. Buys her shit…”

“She using.” Smoke replied.

He turned his eyes on her again. She looked so damn fine. Mmm. That body was nice. He could smell her perfume on his mustache. That amber scented flesh. Smoke knocked the rest of his drink back and stood from his seat at the bar. She ended another song and received a standing ovation. Smoke pushed his way towards the front but before he could get there, a man reached out to help her down. Her joyous laugh made Smoke’s stomach churn.

“Put me down, baby! I had too much to drink!”

“it’s Smoke Stack!”

All eyes fell towards the handsome gangster. Smoke ignored all except those pretty, doe eyes that locked on him with utter shock. Short and stacked. The finest woman in all of Louisiana. Ain’t no way she’s giving all that to Phonzo. Smoke pressed forward, his penetrating eyes racking over Rosetta’s frame. It was easy to tell the twins apart because one had a noticeable scar on his face and the other didn’t.

“Well I’ll be,” Phonzo secured his arm around Rosetta’s waist tighter, “Smoke. What’s shaking, man?”

Smoke’s lips remained tightly sealed and his eyes never left his Rosey. Tension was thick in the air like the sound of the powerful double bass.

I love my moonshine whiskey

Better than I do my man

I love my moonshine whiskey

Better than I do my man

You got have your beer in your bottle

Give me my cool kind hands…

“Rosey…”

Rosetta parted her deep-red lips to speak.

“Smoke…”

That voice. He’d missed it.

Smoke Stack was seeing red.

“Get yo’ hands off my woman, Phonzo.”

“You think you can just show up? This ain’t your woman anymore, Smoke. You proved that when you left her for the taking. Go on somewhere now…”

Phonzo attempted to walk away with Rosetta in his grasp, but Smoke swiftly grabbed her hand, swinging her over towards him with an expert twirl of her beautiful frame. She collided with his sturdy chest, her eyes staring up at him.

Rosetta was still trying to pick her jaw up from the floor. She couldn’t believe Smoke was back. The familiar warmth of his much larger and more powerful frame sent images swirling through her mind of the times they’ve shared. She hadn’t received a letter from him in almost a year. Every single day she worried herself about him. However, Rosetta had entertained the thought of being with Phonzo. Tonight would have been the night that she would have given Phonzo a taste of what Smoke Stack dicked down. It was an act of desperation.

“Rose! Whatchu doin’ gal? Don’t let this fool back into your life!” Phonzo reached his hand out for her to take, “I won’t leave you like he did. Remember? I promised that trip to Chicago. We can pack up and catch a train!”

“I’ll take her to Chicago, to Trinidad, Paris, wherever my money goes, she goes. You had your fun tryna get what’s mine. I suggest you fade, Phonzo…”

Um, make me another two bit pint

Um, make me another two bit pint

'Cause I've got my habits down

I'm gonna wreck this joint…

“Let’s go,” Smoke had a strong grip on Rosetta’s hand as he placed her in front of him to walk away.

Rosetta finally gathered her thoughts. She halted her footsteps inches away from the bar.

“Hold on, Smoke,” She pointed a red nail at him sternly, “How dare you show up here like this?! I haven’t heard from you in over a year! You can’t just walk up in here and whisk me away like some night in shining armor! Who do you think you are?!”

“Says which? I’ve written you!” Smoke shouted back.

“I ain’t get one letter in a year!”

Smoke kisses his teeth, “That’s some bullshit and you know it. Maybe the letters got mixed up…none of that matters now, baby. I’m back. For good now…”

Buck and another bartender watched the two of them go back and forth with amusement.

“We’ll see how long that lasts!” Rosetta sassed.

A gun clicking had Smoke on high alert. He pushed Rosetta behind him and turned, staring down into the barrel of a pistol. Phonzo was sweating bullets. He had two of his lackeys behind him, posted up like they were ready to do damage. Rosetta clung onto the sticky bar top, peeking around to see what the ruckus was about.

“Time to knock you off that high horse. You and that brother of yours don’t run shit ‘round here no more. Give me back my bitch, and we can get back to jivin’.”

“Excuse me?!” Rosetta argued, “I got your bitch—”

“Rosey, relax, baby. Daddy got this.” Smoke looked from the pistol pointed at his chest, to Phonzo with a sinister smile, “You off the cob or something, Phonzo?”

“You tryna make me look pussy in front of my boys?!”

Smoke tilted his head to size up his ‘boys’.

“They shakin’ in they boots just like you. C‘mon now, Phonzo. We can do this the easy way…you put that steel down, and walk away. I came for my woman and that’s it. Pick yo’ self up and use those bony-ass pegs and leave.”

Laugher erupted around them. Patrons watched on like it was a live performance. Phonzo always hated being the laughingstock. No one took him seriously. People tolerated him because Smoke and his twin skipped town to handle business.

“I ain’t going nowhere!” Phonzo yelled.

He pressed his gun into Smoke’s chest hard.

“Nigga, you ain’t got shit—”

Smoke picked up a bottle of Jack Daniels and cracked it over Phonzo’s head. When Phonzo dropped to his knees with shards of glass embedded in his face, Smoke snatched his pistol up and pointed it at the two men that were once standing proud. They both shared a look with each other before bending over to pick Phonzo up.

Smoke placed the pistol in the waistband of his slacks and snatched a handkerchief out of his pocket to clean up the blood that seeped from a gash in the palm of his hand. People were used to violence ‘round here. Too drunk, high, and horny to care about Phonzo bleeding out onto the floor. Buck didn’t blink an eye as he shined a new glass before pouring a gentleman a glass of top shelf whiskey.

“Get ‘em out. Don’t come back, nigga. I’ll use your pistol to put a bullet in yo’ head fuckin’ wit’ me!”

Phonzo—delirious and bloody—was dragged out of the juke joint by his two loyal men. Smoke knew that as soon as Phonzo regained consciousness, he’ll be on the hunt for him. Smoke was ready.

Smoke took a seat at the bar and pulled Rosetta into him. Blunt between his lips, glass of whiskey in front of him, Rosetta gave him a light, watching her daddy with lust.

You know I can't stand it

You're running around

You know better, baby

I can't stand it 'cause you put me down

Oh, no…

“Smoke, Daddy…”

Rosetta took the blunt from between his lips and hit it. He watched her with low, hazy eyes. All he did was walk through those doors. She was at his mercy like he’d never left.

“You’ll really take me to Paris?”

Smoke accepted his blunt, “I’ll take you all over the world, baby…listen, I know I got some makin’ up to do, but don’t you ever do no shit like that again, hear me? I’m a always come back to you…”

“You right about that makin’ up,” Rosetta giggled, “We got all night though. Phonzo was my ride home…”

“Here, go grab my jacket and we can go.”

Smoke tapped Rosetta on her rump and pointed to where he placed his suit jacket. He paid his tab and promised to be back to catch up with his uncle. Rosetta returned and Smoke grabbed her by the hand, ushering her out of the juke joint and into the murky night.

_______________

Smooth leather seats, a pistol on the dash, windows rolled down.

Rosetta and her fur shawl sat elegantly next to a hunk of a gangster. She admired the stain of her lipstick on his cheek when she stole a quick kiss while he opened her door for her.

She missed her Smoke Daddy so damn bad. It hurt to the bone. Smoke could feel her pretty eyes on him and he glanced over to her, giving her a dimpled smirk filled with mischief. They were halfway there to her apartment above a boutique.

“I missed you, Rosey. So much.”

I put a spell on you

Because you're mine…

“Where did you go?”

Smoke took a moment to respond.

“…My brother had business in Texas. Then we picked up some jobs throughout the south. Made enough money to last us a lifetime…Made some bad choices, but I’m richer. Stronger. Ready to sweep you off yo’ feet. I want you to travel the world and sing to audiences bigger than that hole in the wall. Serious, gal.”

Rosetta blinked away tears.

“Don’t do none of that, baby. No crying…”

“I’m just glad ya ain’t dead somewhere in a ditch!”

Rosetta accepted a clean handkerchief from Smoke. She dabbed her eyes to avoid messing up her makeup.

“I made a promise to get back to you and I meant that.”

Rosetta exhales, “I know, daddy…I just…I’ve been so touch starved. I would’ve given Phonzo all of me if you hadn’t shown up…”

Smoke’s nostrils flared and he looked at her with those dark eyes that made her clench her thighs.

“Phonzo don’t know what to do wit’ all that. And you belong to me. All of you. You make that pussy cum while Daddy was away?”

“Yes…but it wasn’t enough. I miss the fuckin’ we used to do…”

Smoke’s Cadillac slowed to a stop in front of the boutique Rosetta’s mother owned. She worked there for extra money, but now that Smoke was back, she didn’t have to work. Smoke opened her door and helped her out. Shutting it, they walked towards the shop and Rosetta opened the door with a single gold key. Smoke observed his surroundings with a sharp eye before following her inside. It was dark, but the moonlight ignited a path for them leading towards a narrow staircase leading up to Rosetta’s apartment that she shared with her mother.

She had some privacy for now since her mother went away to visit family in Baton Rouge for a week. The boutique was closed until she returned. Rosetta opened the door and flicked on a light. It was exactly how Smoke had remembered it. Small and cozy and blessed by a woman that practiced root work. Rosetta walked into their small kitchen and opened the fridge to grab a pitcher of water. She poured a glass for Smoke and herself.

“You can stay for a few days until momma comes back. It don’t matter how grown I am, she don’t like men over…”

“I get it. I’ll have a place to stay. Then you can leave here and be wit’ me.”

“Smoke…”

Smoke finished his glass, sat it on the counter, and pulled Rosetta close. His hands caressed her back and dragged down to cuff her cheeks. Eyes locked on her face, he brought his plump lips to her own, pecking them with soft kisses. Rosetta whimpered and shifted, slightly raising one foot. Smoke hooked his strong arm around her trim waistline. His other hand squeezed the flesh of her plump ass.

“You always know just how to push my buttons, don’t you, Rose? Couldn’t wait for daddy to come back?”Smoke asked with his lips barely touching hers, “That’s alright, though…Im gon’ remind you just who you belong to...”

Suddenly, Smoke delivered a series of sharp smacks to her behind without warning. Rosetta gasped as she felt the sting of each slap. 

“Smoke, I’m sorry…I didn’t fuck him…I swear.” Rose pleaded.

“But you gave ‘em hope. If I hadn’t shown up…”

His wide hand lifted her silk dress over her ass and he went to town whacking each cheek—left, right, left—the pain increasing. Rosetta buried her face into his chest, her lipstick staining his shirt. Smoke palmed her cheeks hard, savoring the heft of that juicy flesh in his rough hands.

“Damn,” Smoke stared over her shoulder and down at her rump, “this big ass…mmm…mmm…mmm…I wanna look at that pussy, baby…I still have that picture of your pussy in my wallet…”

Rosetta set up a camera and took photos of herself nude before sending them off to whatever address Smoke told her to send it to. He’d beat his fat dick every night to all her photos. He stole a pair of her panties as a reminder of her scent. Anything to keep his sanity.

“You do?” Rosetta stared up at Smoke.

“Yeah,” Smoke retrieved his wallet from his pocket. He presented the photo to Rosetta. It had cracks in it from being folded, but her hairy mound, phat clit, and glistening folds stood out against the black and white, “She still nice and bushy?”

Smoke had a thing for hair. He hated whenever Rosetta would do a clean shave. Since he’d been gone, she’d started shaving again. Luckily, there was enough hair there to satisfy his desires.

“Not too much, daddy…”

“Mm,” Smoke flicked his tongue against her lips.

“I want you to do it to me, daddy…”

“Do it all night long, baby?”

“Do it to me, papa…”

Smoke’s dick jumped and stretched to proportions he couldn’t handle.

“I wanna suck on that pussy first…”

Rosetta’s clit twitched at the thought of Smoke slurping on her pussy cat until she was wrung dry. She had a lot for him to drank up. When she first laid eyes on him tonight, the wetness soaked through and created a slippery, sticky mess. Those big lips and that thick dick…

“Let me smell it,” Smoke picked Rosetta up and sat her down on the cramped counter space, “Spread your fuckin’ legs you sexy, bitch…”

Rosetta made quick work of her thighs spreading wide and limber. Smoke could see a big wet spot in the crotch of her cotton panties. He didn’t waste time stroking the outlines of her fat lips that strained against the fabric. Smoke chuckled before slipping her panties to the side. His fingertips graced coarse hair covered in slick and heat. Beyond that was a clit made to be suckled.

“Shit, she still get nice and wet for me,” Smoke admired the shine on his thick fingers before bringing it to his nose to take a whiff, “fuccck,” He pushed his fingers into his mouth and licked them clean, “Fresh pussy…taste so good…”

He was down on his knees with his fingers tangled in her panties to keep them out of his way. Rosetta brought one leg up and it opened her lips more for him to eat. The humidity of that kitchen had their brown skin glistening beneath the dim, yellow, lamp lights. Smoke spread her lips and stared into her pussy. Rosetta stroked his slick-back, begging him to put his face in it.

Smoke buried his nose in it first. He rubbed her clit with the tip of his nose before using his lips to encase her clit and suck. He sucked nice and slow to warm her up, but then he created a vortex so tight with his lips Rosetta almost fell from the counter. The sucking came at a rapid pace—precise and intense.

“Uhnnn,” Rosetta gasped and moaned, “Daddy!”

Rosetta stroked her pussy many times to one of her favorite raunchy tunes. Jump Steady Daddy by Lucille Bogan stayed on repeat whenever she rubbed on her clit to the thought of her Smoke Daddy. She missed when he would come to her late at night, sneak in her bed and eat her pussy. She loved it when he would be on his knees, holding her weight up and fucking into her.

Love me, daddy

Love me all the time

Love me, daddy

Love me all the time

And if you love me like I did

You'll be that jump steady man of mine…

“Yes, ooh, daddy, papa,” Rosetta’s thighs shook out of her control, “Ima cum…Ima cum…”

The thin straps of her silk slip dangled from her shoulders and perspiration trickled down her spine. She didn’t have time to prepare before she was creaming down Smoke’s chin. All he did was suck her clit. He came up for air, lips dripping wet and face glistening with cum.

Her nipples poked out through her slip, teasing Smoke’s eyes. He was as hard as stone, unable to bear the feeling anymore. Smoke stood and picked Rosetta up from the counter, carrying her towards her room. The door was ajar, so all he needed to do was nudge it and he was walking inside. He didn’t bother closing the door. Smoke placed Rosetta on her back, climbing on top of her and sticking his tongue in her mouth.

Rosetta smoothed his button down shirt over his shoulders and Smoke pulled his arms through. He had on a white beater that clung to his muscles like plaster. Smoke broke his lips away and trailed kisses down her neck until he was at the tops of her breasts. Rosetta arched up into his chest, soft moans music to his ears.

Smoke used his teeth to yank the rest of her slip down, revealing 34 C breasts with large nipples that reminded him of chocolate-covered gum drops. Rosetta dragged her nails through his hair, messing up the smoothness of it, revealing waves. Her updo had come undone, finger-waved hair falling into her eyes. The salty, sweet taste of her skin caused him to growl.

“Daddy…I wanna taste that dick…”

With a deep exhale, Smoke stood up. Rosetta sat up on her knees with her dress around her waist and went to work undoing his slacks. She pushed down his boxers and his pants in one motion, his dick bobbing out like a pendulum and hitting her on the chin. Rosetta admired how girthy and veiny her daddy’s dick is. She licked up the precum before it was wasted and with her eyes on him, she wrapped her lips around him and sucked.

“Ahhhh…There you go, baby…that’s how you welcome me home…suck this big boy…gobble it up…”

Her soft hair in his grasp, Smoke’s toned hips pumped her throat. He curled his top lip, revealing golds, grunting at the feel of her tight throat.

“Ugh, fuck, baby…the best dick suckin’ bird in N’awlins…”

Rosetta giggled in response. She prided herself in her skills. Sucking dick and riding dick was her specialty. Smoke licked his lips, eyes barely open as he watched her. He tilted his head and started drilling her mouth. Loud gagging noise started, Rosetta’s once pristine makeup now running down her face.

“You’re so beautiful wit’ my dick in your throat, baby…make daddy cum…so I can fuck that pussy…”

His girth increased, Rosetta’s jaws tightening. She grabbed hold of his balls and worked her neck like no other. Smoke chewed on his bottom lip and threw his head back.

“Hmmm….mmmmmm….”

His hips spasmed out of control. Rosetta almost choked on his thick cum. She had to spit his dick out just to swallow what she could. The rest painted her chest.

“Turn that ass over,” Smoke stepped out of his pants and with one hand on his long dick, he pumped it, “On your knees, gal.”

Rosetta brought that ass in the air and arched her back deep. Smoke stood behind her with a big dick swinging. Rosetta hadn’t felt it in two years. She was afraid. Shaking with fear. He had to open her up again.

“Use them big girl words and tell me what you want,” Smoke slapped her cheeks around, “Where you want this dick?”

“Daddy, fuck me!” Rosetta begged.

His dick aligned with her ass and with his big hands he tucked it higher. Smoke grunted and slapped her bouncy cheeks.

“Ouch! Papa…” Rosetta cried, more from surprise.

It hurt so good. With hands as large as his, he managed to cover a wide area of her ass, leaving behind a burning sting that only made her wiggle her ass against him. Smoke rubbed her down before digging his fingers into the flesh, spreading her wide, and thrusting into her.

“Oh, my! Smoke!”

Rosetta’s ass recoiled and bounced off of Smoke’s sturdy hips. He had her by the hair, keeping her back arched. That man was fucking her like he was fresh out of jail. His thick shaft gave her stretch and his length made her feel it in her stomach. The sound of her wet pussy matched the skin-slapping.

“Big dick on you! Fuck!”

Smoke let go of her hair and grabbed her hips. Rosetta looked back at him with her mouth agape and brows knitted together in disbelief. His hair had puffed up and some strands fell over his forehead. He looked wild and sexy. Muscles flexing, golds flashing, eyes unblinking.

“Keep fuckin’ me, papa! Fuck this wet pussy, daddy! Oh my goddddd—”

Rosetta fell forward and buried her face in the sheets.

“Uh-uh,” Smoke brought one leg up, leaned over her, and wrapped a hand around her throat, “You can take this dick. Get that shit you want so bad,” Smoke said.

Every cry or whimper that came out of her mouth, he responded with an evil chuckle or a groan of his own in her ear.

“Grip me up like that…good girl…that’s it baby…”

Rosetta felt hot liquid trickling down her thighs. Tears brimmed her eyes and her body seized up with her release. Smoke withdrew his hips and got down behind her to lick her up. He licked her thighs, then trailed his spit to her folds. He rolled her onto her back and scooted her towards the edge of the bed. Ass hanging off, legs thrown over his shoulders, Smoke put that dick in her pussy and pounded up into her with sharp thrusts that had her toes curling.

“Oh, shit!” Rosetta and her swinging titties couldn’t handle it, “Damnit, Smoke! I’m cumin’ !!!!!”

Scooting her onto the bed, he pile-drived her into the creaky mattress. Folded in half was an understatement. She stared down the valley of his impressive body at his dick.

“Big Daddy!” Rosetta pressed her feet into his chest, “Fuck me good! Take this pussy!”

“This my fuckin’ pussy…”

Smoke slammed into her before dropping down to kiss her soft lips again. His thrusts turned into modulated pumps that caused her to gasp. Each time his dick would enter her, she would gasp with surprise. Smoke nibbled on her pouty bottom lip and stared into her eyes longingly.

You know I love you

I love you

I love you

I love you anyhow

And I don't care

If you don't want me

I'm yours right now…

“Cum for me Smoke Daddy…”

His forehead furrowed and with one more sharp thrust, he erupted deep in her womb.

———————-

[emmiesoverthemoon]

NGHH I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVEEEE THE GD SMUT U DID hehe i was the one who requested it (im freaky anon hehe)

I HAVE ANOTHER ONE (if u want to do it)

can you do needy daesung kinda of YOU KNOW? like orgasm control yk like whimpering and stuff… HAHA i’m sorry im embarrassed writing this

THERE NEEDS TO HE MORE DAESUNG FANFICS 💔

welcome back to my domain im so glad u loved ur previous request! ill try my best with this one too!! >:)

❥ trying something new

Pairing: daesung x reader

Word count: 2,623

Summary: Daesung wants to try something new with you, and you can’t get enough of seeing him embarrassed.

Tags: absolute total freaky business, smut, bj, edging, p in v, teasing, fluff and smut

cross posted on ao3 here

The moment Daesung cleared his throat, you knew something in him was different.

He’d always been a bold man—the kind of guy that could waltz into any room, flash that energetic, charming, boyish grin, and have everyone at ease in an instant. Radiation waves of pure confidence and sunshine are second nature to him, woven into the very fabric of who he is. But right now? Right now, he is a flustered mess.

You watched him fidget, tapping restless fingers against his thigh, his usual golden, sunlit energy dimmed by something weighty. His knee bounced. He exhaled through his nose. And when he finally lifted his gaze to yours, his cheeks were red. Not the faint pink flush of exertion or laughter, or the hilarious flush he always gets after drinking, but a deep, mortifying crimson that spread from the tips of his ears down his neck like wildfire.

You tilt your head, intrigued. "You okay?"

"I'm fine!" he blurted—too fast, too bright. Then, as if realizing his own betrayal, he groans and drags a hand down his face. "No. Not fine. Just—God, this is stupid."

You set your glass down, leaning in, your curiosity eating away at you. You needed to know what was making Daesung act like this. "Now you have to tell me."

He let out a breathy laugh, but there’s no usual childlike glee to it. He was stalling. You could see it, feel it. It made something coil warm and expectant in your stomach.

"I'm serious," you pressed, your voice softer now, coaxing. You placed a hand on his thigh, near to his knee. "You can tell me anything."

He swallowed hard, his adam's apple bobbing in sync. Then, in a move so unlike him, he avoided your eyes, focusing intently on the space between his fingers as he rubbed his hands together. "Okay. So, there's this... thing. A new thing. I wanna try it. With you." His voice dropped an octave, thick with something tangled between excitement and sheer, gut-wrenching mortification.

You raised a brow, smirking. "Sounds intriguing."

"It is! I mean—I think it is? But also, maybe it's weird? I don’t think it's weird, per-se, but now I’m questioning everything because my brain is being a little—" He made an exploding gesture near his temple, eyes wide with dramatic panic. "And now I’m just sitting here, turning red like a damn tomato while you look at me like that."

You could not help the grin that pulled further at your lips. "Like what?"

"Like you're having the time of your life watching me suffer."

“No…not at all,” you drag out, biting back a laugh. “Actually a little bit."

He groaned again, tipping his head back, his fluffy hair flowing down his head. "This is so much harder than it should be." Then, finally—finally—he squared his shoulders and meets your gaze, his deep breath shuddering just slightly at the exhale. "Okay. I just need to say it. Right now. Just—rip the Band-Aid off. Okay. Okay."

A pause.

A heartbeat.

Then:

"Can we try o-denial or edging or whatever the name is? I’ve never done it before, and I’m curious of what it feels like" He confesses, all in one breath, all in a rush, as if speaking it any slower might actually kill him. If you were not paying attention so closely, you actually would have not been able to understand a single word that left his mouth. Pink dusted your cheeks at the thought, a crystal clear contrast to the deep shade of red he was currently.

Silence settled between you for half a second before his hands fly to his face, muffling what can only be a groan of sheer regret. "Oh my God, I actually said it. I'm gonna die now. Bury me where we first met, thanks."

You laugh—full, bright, delighted. Not because you’re making fun of him--maybe a little--, but because this--this--is rare. Seeing him like this, all wound up and uncharacteristically unsure, is new. And new with him has always been exciting.

So you reached for him, fingers brushing his, grounding him. "Hey," you murmur, and when he peeked at you from behind his hands, you offer him the softest, smile, trying to comfort him. Which would work better in his favour if the words that came out from your soft lips were not dripping with pure seductive teasing. "Tell me more."

And that is how Daesung ended up in your shared bed, on his back, writhing with pleasure as you had your mouth wrapped around his throbbing cock, incessantly teasing him. You loved this newfound opportunity of power over him.

From your point of view, you could feel Daesung's growing need and desperation as he begged you for release. Looking up from your position between his thighs, you could see the desire and hunger in his eyes, the desperation in his pathetic little pleas that slipped from his puffy lips. The power of control, the ability to make or break him, it's exhilarating, intoxicating. Every moan, every sigh, every struggled chant of your name is the sound of surrender, the sweet taste of victory. You prolong his ecstasy, teasing and torturing him; curling your tongue around him, hollowing your cheeks, occasionally taking him to the back of your throat. Holding him at the edge of pleasure and the best kind of pain might have become your favourite hobby. His desperation grows with each passing moment, 'my God,' 'please', 'just a little more sweetheart', his words blur together.

As you continued to tease Daesung, you could see the desperation growing in his eyes, the need pulsing through his veins. His hands clutched at the sheets, his body twisting in anticipation, the very image of desire and longing. You could hear his ragged breaths, feel the heat of his skin against your own as you held him captive to your will.

Each touch, each caress, it's a cruel and calculated game, and you revel in the power you hold over him. His pleas for release only fuel your desire to torture him further, to string him along the edge of pleasure and pain. And so you continue, never relenting, never breaking, your focus unwavering, your determination unshakable. This is your domain, and you rule it with the iron fist of a goddess.

"Please, let me--please I need to--," whimpers flooded out of Daesung's mouth, it was adorable how he was too embarrassed to admit how out of control he was of his mind and body. You revelled in it. Humming in reply, albeit a little muffled--to be fair, your mouth was full. The vibration coursed through his cock and made him groan even louder.

"Oh my God--It's so good, you're too--good baby," Every sentence Daesung could conjure out of his throat was interrupted by a moan, heavy sigh, or a physical twitch, it was such a cute sight, and you were drinking it all in. You now understood why he loved overstimulating you so much, this was great. After locking your eyes with his, you felt his cock twitch again from on your flattened tongue--he was close to finishing again. So promptly, you took a deep breath through your nose and plunged down, taking him all the way--and then pulling yourself clean off of him just as fast, cutting his euphoria off before he could orgasm, which earned a high pitched sob to erupt from him. Your eyes softened at the sight of Daesung attempting to recover from teetering on the line between pleasure and ache. This was his first time doing this kind of thing, after all.

"That's three times now lovely, do you think you can hold out longer?" You asked, the last thing you wanted was to cause actual discomfort or pain. You had your left hand rubbing up and down his thigh comfortingly, and your right hand softly gripping the base of his red, overstimulated cock, fingers tapping gently along the shaft. Daesung took a minute to answer as he was absolutely flushed, wrecked, and breathless, so you gave him all the time he needed.

"I--I don't know... It feels so good, but also it's starting to hurt a bit when you stop, and not in the good way..." Daesung stutters out, his breath beginning to catch up. "I don't want to interrupt your fun..."

"Hey, hey, don't worry, it's okay, lovely," Your heart cracked a little at the latter comment, his happiness and want was the fun. “Now, we can either stop entirely, or I can make you cum for reals, no breaking off. It's up to you and what you think you can take." You let go of him now, wiping your mouth from any residues or saliva with your sleeve and leaning over him to press soft, loving kisses across his warm cheeks and forehead, flooding care and adoration in each peck. Those were some of his favourite places for your lips to touch, it was always the 'number one cure to all his ailments,' he would often proclaim.

Daesung let out a small, light chuckle, covering his eyes, embarrassed by your sweet actions, as if that was more humiliating than the compromising position he was in under you not even five minutes prior. Before you could think or react, his large arms leapt up from the sheets and wrapped around your body, holding you impossibly close. He tucked his head into your neck, hiding his face nervously, causing you to laugh at his adorable disposition, and also because soft hair was brushing gently against ticklish areas. More so the former than the latter. Daesung then mumbled something, but it was indistinguishable as whatever it was was silenced by his mouth pressing into your skin.

You 'roughly' grasped his jaw, forcing him to leave the sanctuary of the section between your neck and shoulder and look you in the eye. "What was that, hmm?" You questioned teasingly. The deep flush from before this escapade had begun had returned. You knew where this was going, you just wanted to hear him say it.

"I want us both to finish--it's not fair if it's only me feeling good here," Daesung mumbled, confessing, "but like, not orally. I need you, so bad baby. Please?"

The second you nod in consent, you feel yourself being flipped onto your back against the smooth, cool sheets, your face flushing more and more, and any feeling of dominance slipping from your grasp. Daesung hovers over you, rippling with desire as he captures your lips in a hard, needy kiss. Your hands run across his chest, your nails leaving light lines in their wake.

Feeling more pent-up than ever, Daesung urgently lifts your hips to remove your bottoms from your legs, then kneeled on the mattress between your thighs. His hand dipped down to toy with you tantalisingly slow for a little while, ensuring you were prepped for him. Not that that was really necessary, you were already soaked from earlier.

"Aww, baby girl," he cooed, "Did me being under you make you all needy, hm?" You squeaked embarrassingly in response, him talking dirty you always put you in a trance. He licked his fingertips clean and aligned his cock with your entrance, eliciting an involuntary shiver from you both. Then, He pushes inside quickly, impaling you deeply with a single thrust. The haste of his action caught you slightly off guard, a subconscious gasp left you as a result of the intrusion, a mix of pleasure and slight discomfort setting its course through your body.

The sensation was overwhelming; his muscular frame enveloped you fully as he established a hard, dependable rhythm after ensuring your discomfort had faded away. Quickly acclimating, you were consumed by desire, your cravings for more and more fuelling an everbuilding inferno of lust as the relentless pacing continued. You made no effort to conceal any calls of his name or praises that rose and fell from your throat. Glancing to your face, Daesung soaked in your delightful expression of ecstasy and concentration painted on your visage, your back arching to meet his thrusts.

You felt hands roughly grasp your hips as he drove himself somehow even deeper within you. Instinctively, your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in, whispering breathy pleas in his ear for him to go faster, harder. Oh how he loved hearing you like this--all because of him. The headboard creaked against the wall behind, a metronome for the primal symphony of your animalistic carnal need.

Feeling confidence settle within you once more, you take an opportunity when Daesung had slowed to take a breath to roll him onto his back and straddle his waist. You took control, your hands gripping his thighs behind you for stability as you rode him with passion, your movements smooth and deliberate. He groaned out in appreciation, his hands roaming your body, grazing your sensitive skin, igniting sparks of electricity at every section of you.

Daesung's strong hands slid down your back, leaning you forward, fingers returning home to your hips, taking control of your movements. Your hands took purchase of the sheets on either side of his head as he bent his knees to thrust up to meet you halfway. Your breath became increasingly more ragged, your muscles clenching around him with each thrust, the sensation of his cock swelling within you. Lost in your own mind, consumed with sensual depravity, you feel your face be pulled in for a gentle, loving kiss, tongues dancing smoothly in a dance, juxtaposing the messy, rough movements below you.

Daesung nips at your lower lip, drawing a soft gasp from you, which devolved to a moan of elation as he speeds up from beneath you. Pressure builds in your core, an impending wave of pleasure crescendoing within you, threatening to overwhelm you as the intensity of lust approaches its peak.

"Fuck--," you whisper, panting heavy breaths, "I'm so close--God Daesung!" He looked at you, deeply engraving the desperation across your complexion into his memory. You calling his name in such a erotic voice would always be material to fuel his fire with for a very long time.

"Yeah, baby?" He grunted huskily, his voice dropping several octaves in your ear. And with that, he flips you onto your stomach, raising your hips and kneeling on one knee and the other foot pressed to the mattress to ensure he'd hit the most satisfying spots to bring you to your orgasm. "I'm nearly there too, let me feel you shatter around me, baby girl. Come on."

The building pressure in you washes waves of ecstasy throughout your whole body as you tighten impossibly around him, tears forming in your eyes and lightly dusting your face in pure euphoria. Daesung let out a mix of saccharine whimpers, high moans, and indecipherable praises as he reached his own highs, your pulsing muscles eliciting every last drop out of him that he had to offer you. The two of you collapsing onto the bed below you, becoming a tangle of sweaty limbs, your chests heaving and pulses racing. Daesung pulled you close, cradling you in his strong arms, kissing all over your warm face tenderly as aftershocks began to subside.

"Was that good, sweetheart?" He asks you, you nod, far too exhausted to formulate a verbal answer. He laughs amusingly, lifting you to the ensuite bathroom to clean you from your activities. After washing up, you both drift off to a deep sleep, feeling safe and secure in each other's embrace, sated and full of love for the one in your arms.

thank you for reading!

sorry this took a little bit, i literally get so flustered writing stuff like this so i have to take a break every two minutes😀😀

[luxcuriousao3]

Obsessed!Ghost Part 1

WC: 1173

Warnings: smoking, implied stalking (kinda), animal injury, mentions of Ghost's comic backstory, mentions of Ghost's canonical SA nightmares, implied DID!Ghost, no smut/nsfw, not beta read

Notes: Since y'all voted that you wanted me to publish stuff from my drafts while I'm too busy to write new stuff. Here's the fic that inspired my most popular post, Mutt (Ghost's Version).

Simon knew he wasn't a good man.

He hadn’t been a good man in a long time. Not since Roba, certainly. But deep down, he thought that maybe he never was. That his father’s sickness was passed down to him like a cursed family heirloom he couldn’t get rid of. That the darkness that plagued him ever since his time in the Mexican desert was not created there, merely unearthed. That these urges had always been inside him, an evilness written in his genes, flowing through his blood, built into his very bones.

Simon wished that he had truly died in the fire that destroyed his old life, that the man that had emerged from the ashes like a dark phoenix wasn’t him. That Ghost was just that—a spectre of the man Simon used to be. That’s what he let everyone believe. What he tried to believe. But it wasn't true. Ghost had always been a part of him. The part that took his father’s beatings stoically when Simon couldn’t. The part that gunned down enemy soldiers without flinching, no matter how young and scared they looked. The part that didn’t question orders, even if he knew they were wrong. The part that sneered at the people around him and thought about how easy it would be to kill them, to hurt them, to subjugate them. To make them feel all the suffering that had forged him into the monster that he was.

The part Simon had spent so long denying and trying to repress.

But Roba had cracked him wide open, forced Ghost out for months on end, to endure the torture Simon wouldn’t have been able to alone. Ghost had dug them out of their grave, dragged them out of hell, and then retreated back inside, like he always did. He had never known anything but pain. His sole purpose was to suffer it in order to keep Simon alive. When his job was done, he got to go inside and cease to exist, for a little while. That was how he liked it.

And then the fire happened, and suddenly, Ghost was thrust into the driver’s seat for everyday life.

But Simon didn’t go dormant like Ghost did when he wasn’t in control, at least not usually. Not unless Ghost forced him to. No, he watched, and he listened, and sometimes he even told Ghost what to say to seem like a human being. It was Simon that MacTavish had a friendship with. It was Simon that called him Johnny. It was Simon that cracked the dryest, darkest jokes known to man. It was Simon that went out for the occasional drink with the lads. It was Simon that still had wants and desires. Ghost’s only desire was to survive.

Until you.

Ghost was taking a smoke when he saw you for the first time. You were pretty, very much so, but that wasn’t what had caught his eye. It was watching you approach the nasty, snarling dog that tended to linger around the base. He’d heard the jokes. The ones that claimed that the ill tempered, ferocious animal was actually him. It had never been seen in the same room as the Ghost, after all, and no other creature could be as foul as he was.

But you were cooing sweetly at the half rabid dog, unphased by its animosity. It had managed to get itself injured, and most of the boys thought they were finally rid of the wretched thing. But now here you were, a pretty little civilian that had no business being this close to an active military base, following the wounded dog down the road until it couldn’t walk any longer. You didn’t flinch when it snapped at you, didn’t fight back even when it bit your arm. You just sat with it like an idiot, feeding it bits of food from your purse and telling it how cute it was, unconcerned that the dirt and blood was making a mess of your nice dress.

And amazingly, the feral creature that terrorized everyone on the base and that they were all glad to see kick the bucket, climbed into your lap and began licking your face, tucked tail wagging.

You giggled, and Ghost, who’d long since finished his cigarette and was now openly lingering around the fence to watch you, thought it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

“Who’s a good boy?” You asked the mangy mutt in your arms, nuzzling your face against its snout, which was still covered in your own blood. You should have been terrified, should have been disgusted. But you weren’t. “It’s you! You’re a good boy, yes you are, yes you are!”

Ghost thought about going over to you and offering to bring you back to base to get your arm looked at. It was still bleeding sluggishly, after all. But before he could decide, you’d already scooped up the dog and begun to walk away. Ghost stared after you, dark eyes boring a hole into your back. And when you disappeared around the bend, he found himself pushing off the fence to follow.

He caught up quickly. You were moving slow, the dog whining and wiggling in your arms. It snapped at you whenever you accidentally jostled its hurt leg, but you never dropped it even though you trembled under its weight, and it never truly tried to bite you again. Why would it? You were probably the only person in its miserable existence to ever show it any kindness.

Ghost wondered what that would be like. For someone to look at him without flinching, to touch him without fear, the way you had the dog. Even MacTavish was still afraid of him, sometimes, though he tried not to show it. But when Ghost locked Simon out, when it was Ghost the sergeant was interacting with instead, he got all stiff and cautious. Like he was just waiting for him to snap.

Perhaps that's what this was. Ghost snapping.

Turn around.

Simon’s voice rang in his head, firm but with a nervous edge. He knew the things Ghost was capable of. The things he thought about. They were one, after all, if not quite the same.

I’m not going to touch her, he mentally replied. Simon was afraid for no reason. Ghost had never wanted to rape a woman before. He’d only had nightmares about it. About how he would do it. About what she would look like underneath him, crying and struggling and begging for mercy.

It wasn’t a pleasant image, even if he always woke up from those dreams with wet pants.

I’m not going to touch her, he thought again. And he wasn’t. He just wanted to watch you for a little longer. To make sure you got home before you passed out from blood loss. Why? He didn’t know. It was odd. But you’d peaked his interest, and not many things did. Certainly not people.

There was something about you. And for the first time, Ghost wanted.

[miley1442111]

the picture- a.hotchner

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summary: a late night issue turns into something very nice when your boss that supposedly hates you decides to come clean.

pairing: grumpy! aaron hotchner x sunshine! reader

warnings: none

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Aaron Hotchner hated you, that was one thing you were sure of. From the morning when you would give him a small wave from your desk, one that he would never be caught dead responding to. To the evenings, when he walked straight by your desk as you wished him a good night, again, something he would never respond to. 

He hated you, and you were ok with that. 

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Aaron Hotchner was in love with you, that was one thing he was sure of. From your kind gestures in the mornings and evenings, to the small things you did to brighten his days. The way you smiled at every small joke Spencer made, how you geeked out with Penelope over totally niche things, how you always seemed to outrun or outperform Derek at the gym- and subsequently tease him for it all week, how you would trade recipes with David, how you shared a love of cats with Emily- always sending photos back and forth of your cats, and how you were always there for Jj when she needed a babysitter, a friend, or just someone to talk to. And… how you didn’t mind how awfully rude he was to you. 

He loved you, and he was not ok with that. 

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“Hotch, have you seen the picture that was on my desk? It’s a small gold frame with just a photo of me and an older woman outside the bullpen from when I first started working here?” you asked, popping your head in from outside his office.

“Y/l/n, what have I said about knocking?” He groaned, irritation flowing through him.

“Aaron, it’s 9:43pm, you’re not exactly on a work call, nor a personal one, and you’re clearly packing up. Please just answer my question.”

You’d never been so direct with Aaron. He’d never seen you get even slightly ill-tempered with anyone, let alone the slight curb of annoyance in your voice. 

“No, I haven’t, sorry.” LIE. Aaron knew exactly where that picture was. It sat in the locked drawer of his desk, underneath some files of paperwork that were really just blank. Penelope had found it, and handed it off to him to put back on your desk because she had to run off. Aaron obviously didn’t put it on your desk, since it had stayed in his desk drawer for the past three days. “Maybe if you tidied your desk up, it would be easier to look?”

One thing Aaron didn’t love about you, was your habit of not keeping your desk very tidy. There were files stacked on top of more files, bright stationary and colourful trinkets Penelope had given you, as well as one small teddy bear you’d won at a carnival with Henry when you’d babysat him a few months ago. It drove him mad to see your desk get progressively worse, have Spencer help you clean it (for the most part, he was just jealous of the fun that he saw you and Spencer having when you cleaned, he wished it was him- even if his conscience wouldn’t let him admit it), then watching the mess pile up again. 

You gave him a curt nod and left his office without another word, another oddity. Aaron tried to do his paperwork, but ended up watching from his window as you cleaned your desk for a whole 45 minutes, only to not find the picture. 

Then he watched as tears welled up in your eyes and his heart broke. Why was this picture so important? 

He pulled it out from his desk drawer and looked at it. The older woman and you looked eerily similar, and you’d taken personal leave for an entire week to go somewhere, somewhere you didn’t explain to everyone. You’ve seemed more distant, and a little less happy in recent weeks, and you've been texting and calling your sister back home a lot more often. 

It clicked and he knew he had to come clean. 

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He walked out of his office and stopped at your desk, putting a hand on your shoulder. You shuddered away, wiping your tears away, then looked up to see the picture. Your frown was replaced by a bright smile, your arms wrapping around his neck in a comforting hug. 

“Thank you so much for finding it,” you smiled. “Thank you Aaron.”

Aaron’s brain was short-circuiting. Here you were, hugging him. His chest was against yours, his hands were on your waist, your arms were around his neck. His face slotted perfectly into the crook of your neck, where he could smell your sweet perfume. God, he loved your perfume. 

“Thank you so much,” you beamed, pulling away. Aaron just nodded with an open-mouth, still slightly in shock. “You seriously don’t know how much this means to me.”

“I’m glad I could help,” he smiled politely, but couldn’t seem to pull himself away from your eyes. You were magnetic. Your beautiful face, your friendly demeanour, your gorgeous smile. Why was he denying himself the one thing he wanted? Why was he denying himself the pleasure of your company? 

“Is everything alright?” you asked, noticing how the tension changed from your regular flat and slightly annoyed exterior, and changed to be something more… intimate. You suddenly realised how close he was standing, how you could feel his breath on your face, how the small freckles on his handsome face made constellations only you could see. 

“Y/n…” he spoke, swallowing the lump in his throat. 

“Aaron…” you responded, unable to look away from him. 

Suddenly there was no gap between the two of you. Aaron’s hands had grabbed your waist and pulled you into him, kissing you passionately. 

God, you loved kissing him. He loved kissing you. Win-win. 

You pulled back, confusion and adrenaline running through your mind as you stared at him. You just kissed your boss- actually; your boss just kissed you.

“I’m so sorry that was-” He started but you cut him off. 

“I thought you hated me.”

Aaron wracked his brain and yes, all the evidence was there. But how could you not see the hidden meanings, the secret things he did for you, the way he looked at you? Did you seriously think you just happen to get the window seat in the jet that also reclines, even though it’s Jj’s favourite spot? I don’t think so…

“I’m in love with you,” he said, breathless from the kiss. “Sorry I ever made you feel differently.”

Now it was your turn to be confused. “What?!” you squeaked.

“Do you actually want me to say it again or-?” 

“You’re in love with me?” You started pacing the floor, head in your hands as you attempted to process the insane revelation Aaron had decided to drop on a Tuesday night. “But you-you hate me! Everyday I wave-” “A wave I want to return-” “Every night I say ‘good night’,” “I know I ignore it and I’m sorry-” “when I came to you with a complaint you brushed it off-” “not liking someone’s attitude is not a grounds for dismissal, as much as I wish it was-” “You tried to get me fired!”

“No I didn’t?” He sighed, exasperated. “How could I see your beautiful face everyday if I got you fired?”

You stared at him. “Fair,” you shrugged. 

There was a moment of silence between the two of you. 

“This is the part when you ask me out,” you whispered, a flirty smile on your face. Aaron’s cheeks blushed and it took him a few seconds to collect himself. 

“Yes! Umm, Y/n, will- can I take you to dinner?” He asked, and you nodded. 

“Sounds like a plan,” you smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “See you tomorrow, Hotchner.”

Aaron watched as you left the bullpen, a bright smile on your face, very much looking forward to your first date. 

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criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[lara4eclipze]

— 𝓑utterflies

— ( ⏳️ ) you give me butterflies got me falling in the deep end of your disguise sparred with a hundred lies.

meret manon x fem reader, argument, swearing, hugging, established relationship, cheater!manon, swearing, wc [?], tags listed below

you really didn't want to be the type of person who is possessive nor easily jealous, yet nothing can hide manon's recent suspicious actions — it was at first simple things like going out with her friends or calling them frequently — but then this friend seemed to take all of manon's time

then she changed her password, which was not that big of a deal you can handle it, what hurt you the most was her forgetting very important things to you — like when you planned a date and she didn't even text you where she had been you stayed in that restaurant for 2 hours waiting for manon only to find out she was with that friend again

which leads you to now

"are you serious?!, I waited like a stupid bitch at that restaurant all dolled up, just for you to "forget"?! manon what the fuck!" you were seething all the pent up emotions you had hidden in order to just be with manon now exploding out of you

"and? I told you I was with sophia!" manon retorts, pacing back and forth in your apartment, she smelled like sophia like she had for the past 2 months, "yeah like always" you laugh but without any emotion maybe even mocking yourself

"what's that supposed to mean?" manon looks at you, her gaze speaking truth of her rage — "i mean is that- manon what am i to you?, why do i feel like I'm fighting for your attention, I'm the only one making this relationship work manon" you respond tears start to blur your vision as emotions flow out

the older girl's temper suddenly cools down as she sees you cry, and then it all comes crashing down on her, guilt, regret and self-hatred, how did she end up like this? — why was she busy with another woman when you were there all along waiting for her

"babe, don't cry" manon quickly hugs you as you sob, it felt as if she had killed something, that something was the love you two had poured out for eachother

never in a thousand years would have she guessed that she would do this to you, yet she had to tell you, manon thinks about the words that would leave her mouth in the next second before she stammers, "forgive me, my love"

"i-i cheated, my love i am so sorry" manon stutters as the words get stuck in her throat, she felt your sobs get deeper and more hurt

thoughts flood your mind, maybe you weren't enough?, did you ever show less compassion?, where did you lack?

"was i not enough manon?" you finally mutter to her, you felt so stupid, stupid that you knew something was wrong but chose to stay silent, to stay with her, "no, please don't think that way — i was selfish and wanted more when you had given me everything"

"i love you, y/n please don't leave me, ill change i promise please give me a chance" manon begs as words keep spilling from her mouth, you didn't hear her, all you heard was she needed more and you couldn't give it

it felt all too wrong, sophia who you always knew was a friend was sleeping with manon? your girlfriend — all those nights that you'd wait for manon to come home, cook for her hell even clean for her, yet she still cheated?

you felt betrayed and hurt, you walked to the bedroom and started packing a bag, with your clothes and things, "baby don't leave me" manon pleaded, yet you didnt respond maybe if she did this earlier you wouldve huddled her and comforted her but not anymore

"i need to clear my mind manon, please i can't put up with this bullshit" you whisper afraid of what lies ahead between you two

manon craddles her face, afraid of what she might lose, as she sees you walk away from what once was a place of love now just a painful reminder of what they were

what she has ruined all for a little more attention

[midgarangel]

ꗃ i could use your help | cloud strife ☁️

summary: cloud has a minor injury and just can’t stay away from you.

contents: nsfw! cloud strife x fem reader, cloud silently adores reader, they banter a lot, he loves her outfits, reader also silently adores cloud, mutual pining. switch cloud if you really squint..idk he whimpers here and there.

words: 1.6k (?)

—

After a side mission gone wrong, you and Cloud sat in seventh heaven alone decompressing. The air in midgar felt heavy as nightfall hit. Cloud stared at the light bulb above him while your finger danced on the rim of your shot glass.

“Hows your wrist?” you broke the silence.

“Fine. I think.” He responded.

You and Cloud were friends who occasionally flirted with eachother albeit he didn’t act like it in front of the others. It was a weird dynamic but it worked for you guys. He winced as he flexed his wrist, it was sprained for sure.

“Maybe some ice might help?” Cloud watched you as you went behind the bar, focusing on the way your boots made noise against the floor. Ice wrapped up in a cloth, you beckoned cloud to put his wrist on the counter.

“Didn’t have to do this you know.” He winced as you applied pressure, “Clearly I do.” You looked up at him and noticed him staring, a shy smile creeping on your face. He looked away instantly, his cheeks reddening.

—

The next evening you were playing darts with Tifa when you both heard a knock at her door. She turned down the music before opening.

“Oh. Hi Cloud!”

“Hey Tifs.” He looked around her room and immediately noticed you sitting on the floor. Hair flowing because of the open window, wearing those same boots.

“Uh..can i borrow you?” Cloud asked as he nodded his head towards the hallway.

“Of course.” Standing in the dim hallway smoothing down your skirt, you waited for Cloud to speak. He looked cute when he was nervous you thought.

“I-I was wondering if you could clean my sword for me?” He pointed to his wrist then began again, “I get it if you don’t wanna-“

“Wheres the thing? In your room?” You asked while already halfway down the hall on your way there.

“Yes.”

Upon entering, you noticed how gray and dim it was; how there weren’t many colors.

“Cloud do you have any candles?”

“Candles? what for?” He took a seat on his bed while you snooped around for them.

“To liven it up a bit in here, it’s very gloomy.”

“Check my nightstand.”

There they were. Soon the room had a yellowy orange hue to it, eventually you started cleaning the infamous sword.

“I’d do it myself but this wrist is really causing problems.” Cloud said as he now laid on his bed looking at the ceiling.

“You know what’s funny?” You said while wiping off a scuff mark.

“What?”

“You get hurt so often but a sprained wrist is what puts you out of commission.” Giggling was all Cloud could hear as he smirked to himself.

He was really enjoying your company but he’d never admit it, plus your laugh sounded like heaven. Getting his mind off of Sephiroth felt impossible along with everything else in the world going to shit. Now his wrist is bothering him to top it off.

“Cloud.” You said his name, getting him out of his thoughts. He sat back up, you were still cleaning with your back turned to him.

“I hope you’re not beating yourself up for getting hurt..I was just joking.”

“I know you were. Don’t worry, I’m not.”

“Good.” You continued shining the weapon.

“Could’ve fooled me though..I wish you would relax more.” Cloud took in your words as he watched you bend down to pick up a tool you had dropped, your skirt giving away what you were wearing underneath, he looked away cursing himself.

You kept speaking, “Even Barrets worried for you believe it or not.”

Cloud chuckled. “What do you do to left off steam?” He asked. Finally you turned to him ready to ramble.

“Hm..i’ll either read in bed with some tea or play guitar. Maybe get a drink, nothing too crazy.” Cloud nodded and looked at the ground. You started again, “Or sometimes ill-” then quickly stopped yourself.

Cloud looked up waiting for you to continue, your face turning beet red. “You’ll what?”

“No-nothing! I wasn’t gonna say anything.” You turned around again pretending to be focused on getting the dirt and grime out of the sword but Cloud wasn’t having it.

“Oh come on now you have to tell me.”

“Not happening.” You replied refusing to turn around. He started snickering.

“You’re gonna make me think more huh..”

“Just forget it.”

“Let me guess at least.”

You both were getting a kick out of this convo even though you seemed embarrassed.

“Fine. Guess.” You turned to him awaiting his answers.

“A shower?”

“No.” He looked at the candles.

“Lighting a candle and watching a movie?”

“…No”

“The only thing left I can think of is rub-“

“Ah!!stop!! don’t finish that sentence.” Surprisingly Cloud threw his head back laughing which was a rare sight.

It made your heartbeat quicken but you weren’t sure if it was from seeing him this way or what you guys were talking about.

“Holy shit. That’s what you couldn’t say!?”

“Cloud...” You fake pouted.

“Everyone does it, even me.” Cloud didn’t know where this boldness was coming from, maybe he was too comfortable around you. Or maybe it was the fact he thinks about you more than he liked to admit.

“Oh yeah?” You challenged him. He nodded nonchalantly. “Mhm…I-I mean now I can’t though because of my wrist.”

Interesting

“That’s the hand you-“

“Yep. Mhm.”

Short answers now but it still wasn’t as awkward as you thought it’d be. You giggled in response.

“I feel bad for you even more now.”

He laughed at that but it was sincere.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

A beat of silence ensued as you were finishing up with the sword. “I could help if you want.”

Huh? did he hear that right?

“..Fuck did I make it weird? I’m sor-“

“Uh..no-no. It’s just, are you serious?” Cloud wanted to make sure he knew what you meant. You turned around to look at him once more.

“Yes. I care about you Cloud.” He was done for. He thought this might be Sephiroth messing with his head for the thousandth time. You came over to sit with him on his bed, he watched your hips sway in that skirt. So cute and flowy.

“I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. Don’t feel obligated to-”

You rolled your eyes.

“I wouldn’t be sitting here if I felt pressured, you silly goose.”

Cloud nodded.

“I know how much pressure you’re under every day, that’s a lot for someone..especially you, basically having the world on your shoulders.”

Cloud wanted to pinch himself, he was getting lost in all of this.

“Just wanna make you feel better.” You smile warmly and put your hand on his thigh.

“You’re killing me right now.” He whispered. Slowly leaning in. You pecked him on the lips. They’re soft just like you thought they’d be.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

Before you knew it the kiss intensified, You couldn’t help but whine at the fact that this was happening. Pushing him a little onto the bed, straddling him, hips grinding on autopilot as you're submerged in the moment.

He's mesmerised by the sight once you break the kiss, his non sprained hand smoothing up your side then cupping your face tenderly. That action alone made the both of you blush.

You wanted to continue making out but you had a job to do with one goal, make Cloud see stars. His eyes followed you like a lost puppy, getting on the floor, unbuckling his pants as he sat there in a daze. “Wait wait-here.” He grabbed a pillow and sat it down where your knees were. “What a gentleman..” You laughed. “I get that a lo-fuck.” The way you grabbed his dick cut him off.

“I could do this all day you know..drive you crazy with just my touch." Your shoulders shrugged as you stared back and forth between his face and dick.

Cloud couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth. He knew you were confident but wow. A soft whimper left his mouth as soon as you licked his tip. You looked up, tongue wetting your lips, pupils blown wide, then you pressed your mouth to the head of his dick, spit already pooling under your tongue.

He groans through his teeth, barely restraining the twitch of his hips. You hum around him, hollowing your cheeks, taking more, until the tip hits the back of your throat and you gag just a little—on purpose.

His hand tangles in your hair immediately, soft but firm. You feel him buck his hips up a bit more, anchoring, letting go of hesitation. Cloud can’t think of anything else with you on the floor giving it your all right now.

“You look so mffhh pretty.” He says as he looks down at you with hooded eyes.

Everything about this is so intimate. Tears prickling the corners of your eyes, your spit coats him and dribbles down your chin. You look a complete mess yet with his dick pulsing against your tongue, you moan around him graciously.

He’s close, you can feel it in the way his thighs tense, in the pressure building in the base of his dick.

He growls something that sounds like your name—maybe not, maybe just a noise of pleasure but you gag around him again, pushing him deeper.

“Look at me..please?” He sighs when you do.

You stick your tongue out while stroking him. His orgasm comes quick, his cum spilling hot and sudden all over your tongue. You swallow, not wasting a drop.

He stifles a groan but it sounds broken, watching your lips kiss him through every twitch. You wipe the corners of your mouth. He looks spent, and finally relaxed. He helps you up.

“I told you you’d kill me.”

You giggled again and sat next to him on his bed.

“You don’t look dead, just really content..like you had too much mako.”

He laughs and kisses you. Cloud just stares at you with so much adoration. You spend the rest of the night together brainstorming on ways to make his room more colorful. His buster sword shines by the door.

—

hope you enjoyed xx <3

[acehazbin1]

I need, I crave to see a moment from your imagination where Geta has someone who supports him, cause Caracalla has Geta but who has Geta, right? He carried the empire and his brother's illness alone

‘Hush love, hush.’

Paring: Emperor Geta x Concubine!Reader

Warnings: No use of Y/n, mentions of sex, Geta being stressed, unhealthy ways of coping.

Notes: Thank you for the ask! Honestly, I think it is a really interesting thing to think about, who is there for Geta? (Thank you for all the support on the Caracalla fic!?)

His tunic was stained with him but that's how the fights normally went between Geta and Caracalla. Drinks were thrown, vases were broken, and voices were hoarse. No maid or guard stopped them unless Caracalla got physical.

Geta would normally come to his brother's aid after a maid had alerted he calmed down; gently reassuring him that nothing would come between them and he was as much an Emperor as him. It used to happen every so often but it's nearly become weekly at this stage.

He would fuck the stress out of him by choosing a concubine. Ruining one after the other, not caring about their pleasure, he only needed to feel something, anything. His favourite one was never the one to turn him down while stressed, she often was ready for him.

This night in particular he walked passed her, not even a glance away. She spent a minute trying to figure out what was wrong. Did she wear Caracalla colours? Or was her makeup wrong? She noticed he didn't choose any Concubine instead he told a maid to set up a bath.

He asked her to join him in the bath a lot, maybe he wanted to make her beg for him. She was stuck on what to do, so she wrapped herself in a silk nightgown and slowly walked towards the imperial bathroom. Her hand reached the golden door knob as she hesitated, he wasn't the one to play games Caracalla was.

She turned the handle and stepped into the room. The titles matched perfectly with the paintings on the wall, all having little details and stories about Rome’s past and how many emperors and Caesars had become before him. She only saw the back of his head without the crown, his hand out of the bath reached for the golden chalice filled with the utmost richest wine.

“I told you not to disturb me.” Geta called out, his words bouncing off the walls. She was sure he thought she was a mere maid. “I never heard.” His favourite called out, there was a pause that lasted too long for her liking making her brain scream that it was a horrible decision.

His hand reached up to hold the side of the tub, she heard water leak out as he moved to turn to her. His eyes meant hers, he might have been far enough away but she could see his makeup was smudged, running down his face and there was a cut on his neck. He had been crying?

She had never seen him cry before, it was strange, to say the least. The way his back mascara ran down his face made her think of the many concubines he left like that, but to see him wear the face of sorrow was almost Ironic.

She has admitted to the other women that it was becoming more than a job to her, and they warned against that thread of thoughts yet she couldn't help but care for him. She didn't mind when he bruised her hips after a night of one-sided pleasure or the rope burns she would get when he tried them too tight. He would always notice it the next time and pepper kisses when he hurt never mentioning it.

She knew the other concubines were jealous of the treatment she had gotten but they never stayed in bed with him stroking his hair as he slept after their job was done. She would always take an extra step to ensure that he was pleasured.

So her knees nearly went weak when he whispered, “Stay…” it was a request, not a demand. The way he looked at her and clutched onto the tub made her have a desire just to hold him. Before she could even respond, her feet walked towards him. Her hands met with his face, her thumbs wiped away his tears which more flowed down.

He tried to breathe in to stop himself from crying but he was met with her whispers. “It's okay.” He let out a breath and more tears streamed down. She brought his face back looking forward and sat herself down on the side of the tub. He moved towards her leg rests his head down on the fabric as she let him cry into it. “Hush love, hush.” She whispered as she stroked his ginger hair.

“W-why must the gods hate me?” Geta choked into her thigh, his hand gripping onto it now desperately trying to keep it there. “All I do is try to honour them yet they send disease after disease to my brother.”

She listened nodding gently at his words; he ran a whole empire and kept his brother from madness, he often came to bed unable to sleep due to stress. His eyes are often baggy going through trying to drown the look with makeup and the feelings with wine. But nothing ever worked.

“They do not hate you, they give you struggles that you will overcome so the people will remember you.” She whispered, he looked up at her so she leaned down to kiss his forehead. “They will remember your strength, passion, determination and your love for the people to go through these struggles and remain the emperor of Rome.”

Maybe she was telling him what he wanted to hear, what he needed to hear yet something in it had truth. She cared enough for him to remain by his side whispering sweet comforts. “Will you remember me?” He whispered as her hand went towards a cloth to wipe away his makeup.

“Of course, how could I forget?” she replied in a whisper which made him relax in her hand. The room was quiet with just water moving in the background to her washing the makeup off his face.

Over the next month, Geta learned to come to her when he was stressed. He would no longer fuck the stress out of himself unless she agreed it would help instead most days he would lay on her lap letting her stroke his hair. He felt safe with her, a feeling he didn't get often.

[leonsdolly]

Wicked Game

Leon Kennedy x fem! reader

Synopsis: Leon leaves you for her, and you're not sure what to do now.

CW: nsfw 18+, infidelity, angst, suicidal thoughts, comparing yourself to her, masturbation, mentions of p in v

WC: 1.5k

“What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you…” You murmur along to the melancholy words that are floating around your room like butterflies. Actually, more like flies nearing the end of their life span - movement transitioning from an erratic flight to a lazy, almost purposeless dwindle until they’re on their backs with their legs sticking up in the air. That’s exactly how you are now that Leon’s done with you. A dead fly - no one could save me but you. Chris Isaak gets it. He gets it so well that he’s been looping for God knows how long.

Was it only last week that Leon left you for the ghost from his past? The one in red, haunting him in ways that you were oblivious to. Always bleeding red, like Bloody Mary or something. Maybe it was better if you’d feigned ignorance to the evidence. Maybe you’d still be able to call him yours if you played your role of a cross-eyed Mary jumping right into his arms with no protests, always playing it clean.

It was all because of a letter that was carefully tucked away in his desk drawer, folded and sealed with a kiss. No, literally a kiss. The bitch left her lipstick imprint in lieu of her signature. YSL, shade R1. You’d always been a Dior girl anyway. 

You swore up and down that you weren’t purposely snooping through his belongings, that you were just looking for Scotch tape. The offensive document shook in your hand as you fearfully inquired about its contents. He was stuttering and ashamed and apologetic and all the things a good man is when he’s sinned. He let you cry and scream and sink to your knees with your head in your hands like you were never going to come back up, like you could die in this position and be encased in marble. A new weeping angel.

You know in your heart that you could never equate to her in his eyes. The knowledge that he’s probably been comparing you to her throughout your relationship makes you so damn ill. Maybe you should slit your own throat in front of him and let the crimson flow over your body so you can match with her. Bleeding red all over the place, letting him see nothing but that cursed color, the way he did all those years ago in the city where it all started. The way he’d still continued to do so after meeting you and promising all sorts of things you weren’t accustomed to hearing. You suppose you can’t fault him completely, it wasn’t like he intended on hurting you; he’d tried to overcome his adversities and forge a new home for himself, one that was pink and frilly and covered him in glossy kisses after a long day at work. But ultimately, it wasn’t enough. His allegiance lay with first red, then white, then blue. 

You just miss him so damn much. You’re desperate enough for him that if he were to walk through the door right now, you’d take him back in a heartbeat. Sure, maybe you’d have difficulty meeting his eyes for a while, deep pools, murky with guilt and who knows what else. Your vision would be limited to the freckles on his neck, the ones resembling a vampire bite, but that’s alright with you. You’re familiar with the area, having kissed it so many times. You shouldn't be thinking about those little spots or anything else about him for that matter. He made his bed, and now he has to lie in it. With her. Pressed up against her with his face tucked into the crook of her neck. Oh God, now you're the one seeing red. Is there really such a thing as a red string tying two people together, keeping them bound for eternity? Hopefully not, because you're nauseous at the concept that it's always been her. She was right there beside his former bright eyed and bushy-tailed self, the version that had a vague understanding of how the world worked, before he was your solemn Leon. They trudged through the abyss together, leaning on one another for strength in the midst of a plague. You wish God would just deliver armies of locusts to devour you and him and her and the rest of the world. The end is here anyway now that he isn’t. 

Your last memory of him is that pitiful look in his eyes as he gazes at you one more time. You said I was your baby. He said a lot of things, promised you the world, and look how things turned out. It’s sickening really, how cruel fate can be. Was this fate? You’re going to tie their disgusting red string around your neck and squeeze until your head pops off like a rocket. A blazing glory, capable of stealing his attention.

The thoughts of needing to be better so that he’d be with you again swirls around in your brain, filling up your entire being until you can’t bear it any longer. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to put a ring on your finger and give you his babies and hold you close on your deathbed. Your hand twitches, muscle memory activated from all the times you slipped your hand into his, anchoring you to him. I’m so sorry… Ada and I… We’ve been through a lot together. You can’t take this anymore. But I love you more than anything in the whole world… How am I supposed to live without you? He never did give you a proper response to that, silence encompassing the air between you.

You shuffle to the bottom drawer of your dresser and fish out a wrinkled shirt that had been shoved towards the very back, away from prying eyes - navy blue with the letters “RPD” emblazoned in white across the front. You slip it on and inhale the fabric draped over your frame, protecting you, hugging you as you crawl back into your bed. His arms really were the loveliest place to be. Firm and gentle, wrapped around your torso like your very own bullet vest. Shielding you from horrors you would never have to experience, he’d make sure of that. Or at least he had, anyway. His lingering scent fills your senses like whispers in an abandoned chapel. Something familiar, a sense of comfort in your hollowed out state. It takes over your grief for a second, and when you shut your eyes tight, everything is alright again.

You yearn to hold onto this feeling, but it dissipates once your eyes open, and you're isolated yet again. Your bottom lip trembles as you squeeze your eyes shut as hard as you can, gripping onto the hem of his shirt. His arms are around you again, and the smell of him is welcomed. It elicits a natural response from your body, begging for his touch, forming a silent prayer to any divinity who will listen. Your thighs involuntarily part as you reminisce on the feeling of his face in between them, tongue lapping at everything you have to offer. Whimpers fall from your lips as your other hand travels down to slowly stroke your clit the way he used to do it. There’s my baby. You’re his baby, still so good for him. You rub your clit faster and faster as the hand that was clutching onto his shirt for dear life comes up to squeeze your tits and pinch your nipples. 

You realize that tears have been running down your flushed cheeks as you grind down onto your fingers faster in an effort to chase your high. Just like that… Sweet baby, my sweet baby. 

He's probably fucking her at this exact moment. Cock buried miles deep inside her perfect cunt, perky tits bouncing at every thrust while she moans for him. You’re going to blow your brains out. What kind of sounds does she make when she’s getting the railing of a lifetime? Something more refined than your own little whines. Is she kissing those precious freckles on his neck, giving them all the attention they could ever ask for as he lets out his own delicious noises? You weep as you continue to rub your clit while slick leaks from your neglected pussy, begging for only him to fill it up.

You’re sobbing as you feel the release building up in your core, and you're bawling as you feel your pussy clamp around the ghost of his cock. You let out a cry of both pleasure and agony as you frantically cum all over your fingers. My perfect baby.

Shallow pants escape you as you simply lay motionless, eyes trained fixedly on the ceiling of your melancholy prison. You shakily bring your other hand up to wipe away the tears that have forged new paths for themselves on your cheeks and down to your pillowcase. I love you. You’ll always be my girl.

This world is only gonna break your heart. How are you supposed to live without him? Nobody loves no one. Chris Isaak needs to shut up.