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#so I’m imagining all these different notes and scents for the different
loveforskekgra · 1 year
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I really wish I was one of those people who knew how to make like perfume oils and stuff because I spend a lot of time thinking about what a collection of perfumes themed after each Skeksis and Urru would smell like
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suhsweet · 5 months
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perv!mingyu ⟡ kmg
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wc: 731 | pair: perv!mingyu x afab!reader | genre: roommates au, 18+ (minors go away) | tags: mingyu is PERVERTED, panty stealing, dirty thoughts, mingyu spies on the reader
summary: when your roommate mingyu is a filthy, dirty pervert obsessed with you
authors note: maybe i'm a freak, but i literally thought that mingyu uploaded a pic of himself sniffing either socks or underwear. this is a really short drabble. wrote this in an hour. i might write more about perv!mingyu :) i told y'all that this blog is really self-indulgent...
Mingyu can’t remember exactly when his obsession with you began. One day, you were his roommate. The next, you were the star of all his fantasies. He’s had plenty of roommates before you, but you were different.
Maybe it's the fact that he knows what you sound like when you’re touching yourself. He knows you only do it when you’re the only one at home, where you can freely vocalize your pleasure without being embarrassed by anyone listening in. Except, that is exactly what Mingyu does.
If he tells you that he’ll be back from the gym by eight pm, he’s actually home at 7 and listening to you use your fingers to pleasure yourself. He tells you that he’s going to be at work until six, and comes home at five-fifty to hear the tail end of your orgasm.
Most of Mingyu’s nights are spent leaning against the wall your rooms share, pathetically fisting his swollen cock in his palms. His head would be pressed against the wall, his ears straining to find your moans. If he’s bold enough, he’s right outside your door with his dick out, where it’s significantly easier to hear you.
Right after you cum, he loudly opens and closes the front door to the apartment, hollering, “I’m home!”
He listens to you stumble around your room before you peek your head out. With your hair a mess, and eyes wide, Mingyu finds your flustered state so cute. He prevents a smug smirk from appearing when you innocently ask him how his day was.
He’s well aware that it would take only three strides of his long legs to reach your room. He’s also certain you didn’t have enough time to wipe your fingers clean of your essence. The idea that while you’re smiling innocently at him, behind the door your fingers are coated in your cum drives him insane. It takes everything in him not to burst into your room, take your hand in his, lick your fingers clean, and then make another mess of your pussy.
Mingyu’s perverted habits have been ongoing for several months. Mingyu was too far gone to feel any sense of guilt at this point. Not when you didn’t have to know. Not when he stole a pair of your panties from your laundry hamper while you were out with your friends.
He tries to use it sparingly to preserve your scent. He pulls it out on the occasions where he is so horny that his imagination cannot satiate his needs. It’s erotic, Mingyu thinks, that he’s using your panties while jerking himself off without your knowing.
He’s flat on his back, in the centre of his bed with the sheets pushed to his ankles. His room is plunged into darkness aside from the bedside lamp that illuminates his filthy act of perversion with a warm glow. He has his eyes closed whilst imagining the sight of you seated on his lips. He imagines his nose is buried in your delicious pussy, not the fabric of your underwear. His free hand grips his cock fiercely.
His mind presents him the image of you gripping his dark locks, your hips rotating as you grind into his mouth. His tongue is expertly drawing circles around your clit, the pressure of it so perfect that he brings to you an orgasm that is so shattering that you threaten to fall off of him. His arms would lock around your thighs like a vice. His eyes would look up at you, telling you everything that his occupied mouth can’t. His puppy eyes would be imploring, begging for more. His gaze would track your every movement, every rise and fall of your chest, every ‘o’ your mouth forms, every time your eyes clench shut when he sucks on your pussy.
And when you’re finished with his mouth, you’d come off of him, and clean up the mess you made by licking your release off of his lips. You two would make out as a result, messy and slick with saliva and cum.
While his imagination goes wild thanks to your used panties, Mingyu struggles to keep in the pitiful whine that threatens to leave his throat. He doesn’t want to wake you up. You’re obliviously sleeping on the other side of the wall, unaware that your pervert roommate is thinking such depraved thoughts about you.
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zurifushigurxz · 2 months
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༄ ◇ imagine showering with husband!nanami when he gets home from a long day at work.
・゜・。
cw: fluff, slightly suggestive (nothing too bad, just people not wearing clothes), kissing, you and nanami showering together
authors note: guys this is my first time posting my work! this one i didnt really like and this is my first time actually writing smt.. i’ll probably improve in the future soo.
________________________________________
Sat on the plushy couch in your cozy living room, you eagerly wait for your loving husband to come back from work.
The front doorknob starts to rattle and you hear a familiar sigh coming from the other side of the door. Immediately upon realizing that the husband you loved so dearly was home, you spring up, eyes lighting up. He opens the door and his exhausted expression softens at the mere sight of you standing so beautifully in-front of him. “I missed you kento, you were gone for so long,” you pout, wrapping your arms around his neck and planting a delicate peck on his cheek. “I missed you more, my love.” He drops his bag and sinks into you, the way this man who towers over you, seems to shrink in your touch, melting like putty. His large arms encircle your waist, pulling you close and enveloping you in his hold. He whispers under his breath, “I love you s’much, pretty girl, missed you so bad.” You seize his tie, drawing him into a passionate kiss. When the both of your lips collide, all his stress erodes away. This man adores you.
“I need to take a shower, s’that okay with you my love?” He says, still looking deeply into your eyes. “Make it quick, I wanna lay with you after” you reply, placing another kiss on his cheek. He looks away from you, seemingly trying to avoid your gaze from meeting his. “Actually my love.. I was hoping that we could, uh, do it together?” His tone was timid, and a soft pink blush painting across his sharp features. You smile at him warmly and nod.
You step into the shower, your husband following. The warm water streaming down the both of you. Nanami picks up the wash cloth, about to scrub himself when you stop him, “let me do it for you, ken, you had a long day.” He smiles and hands you the cloth, letting you do as you please with him. You start by slowly scrubbing his back, the vanilla scented body wash now coating his body, then you turn him around and scrub his arms, and chest, then the rest of his body. He feels so loved in your touch. He turns to you, “Mind if I return the favor?” To which you accept, and he takes a different wash cloth, lathering that same vanilla-scented soap on it. He starts by carefully scrubbing your arms, being so very gentle with you, as if you would break. He moves the wash-cloth to the valley in between your perfectly shaped breasts. He rinses you off and places delicate kises starting from your hand, working his way up to your neck. Your husband’s subtle kisses make your insides flutter, it has you wondering, ‘how did I land such a perfect man’. His eyes trace your figure, admiring every part of your beautiful body. “you’re so perfect, pretty girl.”
He spins you around and embraces you from behind, the water still running over you. You giggle out, “You okay baby? Did y’have a rough day at work?” You turn to face him and wrap your arms around him, the two of you now chest to chest. “Yes, but I’m okay, I’m with you now,” He kisses your neck so lovingly, taking a whiff of your sweet scent. “wish we could stay like this forever.”
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luvhughes43 · 11 months
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is it over now? | jack hughes
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part two of the beginning
au masterlist⭐️
note: i switched to first person pov for this story just to test it out. Inbox me if you’d want to go back to 3rd person.
warnings: pregnancy, birth
word count: 4.7k
the doctors waiting room is cold and uninviting. i stare up at all the pregnancy posters that litter the walls, and soon my gaze falls to all the mothers and all the fathers. they all sit, talking quietly amongst themselves. the women are gorgeously radiant, and if this were any other time i’d compare their beauty to mine. 
instead, i linger on the way they interact with their husbands, boyfriends, whatever. small touches, whispers, and smiles all burn into my mind like a useless cd. 
“y/n l/n?” a nurse in all blue interrupts my thoughts, she gestures for me to follow her and i do. 
like the waiting room, the small room i’m brought into is cold. i wonder briefly what jacks doing right now. if he had gotten my message or if he’s still asleep. i try to imagine his reaction but i can’t bring myself to conjure up an accurate depiction of him. everything is off - and i fear if i keep trying to imagine this man who’s not my jack, that i’ll somehow forget the real one. 
“we’re just going to do some tests, all very basic things. i need to know your medical history, and i’ll have to do a complete physical assessment,” a doctor walks into the room, clipboard in hand. she doesn’t look at me as she speaks, but I absentmindedly nod to her words anyway. 
“Okay so, is this your first pregnancy?” the doctor asks. 
“Yes” i nod.
“And, do you have any medical history I should be aware of? Past procedures, family history, etc” the doctor looks up from their notes and i pause. 
“Uh, i -” my cell phone buzzes in my purse and i quickly reach for it. Its a notification from sephora, something about how there’s a last minute sale and that i should buy some overpriced body spray. 
“I had my tonsils taken out when I was five, but other than that i’ve had no other procedures” my words come out shaky, as if i’m confused. i turn my phone over again, willing for another notification to pop up. It’s 11:40am, and jack is definitely awake by now. 
the doctor calls a nurse in to prep for the examination. everythings a blur as i lean back. the nurse, short with reddish-blonde hair, has to ask me to lift up the bottom of my shirt twice. 
“And if you look over here, this is where your baby is,” the doctor is confident in her speech as she shifts the little wand around my stomach. 
the appointment was nightmarish. 
the nurse sent me home with a little packet of information sheets, all different colours and all about different things. i don’t want to look at them, so i shove them into the bottom of my purse when i get out of the office. 
⋆ ★
vivienne always made sure to wake up an hour before jack. she liked to make herself a fancy coffee with her espresso machine, and she liked to plan out her events for the day. she had decided that they’d go to the grocery store sometime before noon, hit the mall for an outfit to wear to dinner, and then of course dinner with viviennes friends at 7. 
after her coffee, Vivienne tiptoed her way back into her bedroom. she was proud of the fact that Jack liked to stay here. she made sure her bedding was always fresh and clean when he was over, and she made sure to spray a little bit of her perfume on his pillows so he’d get used to falling asleep to the scent of her. 
Vivienne grabbed a hold of Jack's phone on his nightstand, and slowly slid it off the side of the table and into the palm of her hand. she turned it over, bombarded with the amount of notifications that littered his phone screen. she slid up, quickly typing his passcode. she had to be mindful of her next moves. she didn’t have long to do her routine digging. 
“It’s not really fair for you to be with vivienne if you still have feelings for y/n”
“will you drop it? you were the one who told me to go for viv”
“Jack-”
“No! Dawson, you were the one who begged me to move on. I am. What happened with me and y/n-"Jack cuts himself off. “what happened.. It’s done now. leave me alone” 
Vivienne recalled the conversation she overheard a few weeks ago and she couldn’t shake it from her mind. So, she did what any girlfriend would do and searched the girls username on instagram. 
She hadn’t thought y/n would be any type of problem in hers and Jack's relationship. That was until Jack and Vivienne were laying in bed, with Jack wanting to show Vivienne a picture he had taken a while ago on a roadie. He was scrolling past his photo albums when she saw it. The “it” being a photo album titled “❤️” filled with pictures of jack and y/n at art galleries and whatnot. 
Ynuser: 1 dm request
Accept | Delete
Vivienne clicked onto the dm, and when she saw the words pregnant and yours her blood ran cold. She angled her body away from Jack, and with his reassuring snores clouding her mind, she reread the dm again. 
Jack, I don't even know how to tell you this. It doesn’t feel right. But, I took a pregnancy test and it came back positive. I’ve booked an appointment with my obgyn for tomorrow and they’re going to confirm the test for me. You're the only person that I've been with since we’ve gotten together so it’s for sure yours. If you need a paternity test or anything at all just let me know and we can sort it out. Please reach out and we can talk about this in person. I’m sorry.
“Fuck” Vivienne cursed as she clicked Jacks phone off. She turned around and stared at the man in question while debating her options. 
Letting Jack find the message on his own was the most obvious answer but… would he still want to be with her when he found out about the baby? If it even is his, Vivienne rolled her eyes at the thought. 
The next logical option was to delete the message and block the girl. Jack would never have to know, and Vivienne would just have to be the perfect girlfriend for the next little while. She’d make him his favourite foods, dress extra hot, and do everything in her power to make sure he forgot about his ex. 
Vivienne turned Jack's phone on again, and without a second thought, swiftly declined the message request before blocking the girl. 
To make sure her tracks were completely cleared, she searched the girls name up in his contact list and blocked her there as well. 
And, just as quickly as Vivienne had picked up her boyfriends phone, she had set it back down. 
⋆ ★
After the appointment, I was stuck in meetings for the rest of the day with no opportunities to check my phone. During my appointed bathroom breaks, I was too anxious to check. My hands trembled as I hovered over the instagram app, too nervous to see if he had read the message. 
I thought about the next message that I would send all day. Would I send the doctors confirmation? My next appointment date? The reason why I found out about the pregnancy so late? 
When I got out from work, I decided to walk the 45 minutes home instead of taking the Subway. I hoped that the semi-fresh air would clear my mind. 
By the time I unlocked the front door of my apartment, it was 6:45pm. Jack would have gotten out of practice, and he would probably be at home grilling himself a piece of chicken while his rice cooked. 
I pull my boots off and wander into my bathroom. i shut the door behind me, giving myself some privacy from my own space. When I close my eyes, all the memories of Jack and I flicker through my mind like one of those plastic children's cameras.
I take a deep breath, before finally pulling my phone out of my pocket and turning it on. I click into instagram and my stomach drops. 
jackhughes
No posts yet
User not found
what the fuck was i going to do.
⋆ ★
“Claudia!” my voice was hoarse from crying as I pounded on my best friend's door with my fists. I had run all the way to Claudia's apartment, and luckily someone was walking into her apartment complex so I didn't have to buzz in. 
Claudia's door swung open, and she immediately pulled me inside and into her arms. “What's wrong?” she practically cooed, not a stranger to my breakdowns. 
“J-jack he-” I couldn't stomach the rest.
“Babe, slow down… breathe..” Claudia stressed as she started doing breathing exercises for me to copy. I followed her movements, and when I was deemed calm enough she moved me over to sit on her couch. 
I take a few minutes to recover before explaining what happened. 
“I’m going to kill him” Claudia sneered after I had explained the pregnancy, the message, and how my ex boyfriend-turned-baby daddy had blocked me. 
“What am I going to do?” I was crying again. I was bordering on exhaustion as I leaned my head against the back of Claudia's couch and wailed.  
My hand found its place at the top of my stomach, where the faintest baby bump had begun to form. 
⋆ ★
vivienne just added to their story!
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vivienne
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liked by jackhughes, trevorzegras, alixearle, and others
vivienne mr nhl man
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user01 VIVIENNE HAS A BF??
user02 viv baby who is it
user04 vivnation lost
user05 jack and trevor liking ohhh wow…
user06 is it jack?
user07 i thought jack has a gf?
user06 he was seen out with a girl a few times months ago but that was it lol
user08 the nhl girlies lost
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⋆ ★
ynuser
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liked by claudia, and others
ynuser my baby🤍
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claudia im a proud honorary aunt❤️
user00 congrats!! 
user01 Congratulations on your pregnancy sweetie! We have to get together sometime soon😘❤️
⋆ ★
the pregnancy was lonely. It was all long hours at work, quiet doctor appointments, and late nights binge sessions watching gossip girl with whatever craving plagued my mind. 
I tried my hardest to stay away from social media, my heart cracking a little more every time jack came across my feed with his rumoured new girlfriend. of course, i knew it wasn’t a rumour, which just made everything more miserable. 
“Do you want to know the gender?” the ultrasound tech asked as she shielded the sonogram screen away from my view. 
I nod, “yes, please”
Claudia squeezes my hand. “Are you sure? I can throw you a gender reveal party if you want? Or we can do something with just the two of us?” 
I didn’t want to hurt Claudias feelings, but it wouldn’t be the same without jack. 
I must have took too long to answer though, because the ultrasound tech looked at me with pity filled eyes as she said, “i’ll put the gender info in an envelope for you to take home”
All i could do was nod. 
⋆ ★
“Im sorry, blair.. But you lost the baby”
“where’s chuck?”
“B, he lost a lot of blood, and he never woke up” 
Gossip girl season 5 played in the background as I picked at my newest pregnancy craving, strawberry cupcakes from a bakery off seventh ave. 
i sighed heavily as i continued watching the show. this has got to be the saddest episode… i thought as blair started praying for chucks survival. As the scene went on, tears pricked my own eyes as i thought about the past five months. 
i was almost done with my 2nd trimester, and i was still refusing to acknowledge my pregnancy. I felt as if i were walking through water, i was restricted in all of my movements and my mind was cloudy like i had just spent all day in the michigan summer sun. 
The episode finished, with blair telling chuck that she loved him but that she couldn’t be with him and that she couldnt tell him why. 
When the screen turned black and i was faced with my reflection, i started sobbing. 
Heavy tears rolled down my cheeks and fell onto my duvet, which turned the cream coloured blanket into spots of grey. 
Without thinking, I rolled out of bed and threw on a thick sweater that I found strewn against a chair backing. I wandered out into my entryway, shoving on a pair of my mini uggs as I searched high and low for that stupid little envelope that my tech gave me. 
It was in my purse, hidden behind a hundred other little things. Once the envelope was grasped firmly in my hands, i ripped open my door and rushed down onto the street. 
I didn’t have a lot of time to think this through. If i placed the order now, everything would be okay and fine...
Truth be told, i was afraid that if i didn’t order a gender reveal cupcake that i would be doing my baby a disservice. I promised to myself that i would be able to do this without jacks support, and yet here i was crumbling under the pressure of motherhood. 
The bakery shop chimed with my arrival, and then i was in the small line up to make an order. 
“Hey, what can i get for you tod-”
“Can i get a gender reveal cupcake? Or one of those little cakes?” i ask, thrusting my envelope into the guy at the registers hands. 
He looked taken aback before responding very politely, “i’m sorry, you’re going to have to make an order online” 
“Oh,” my shoulders sag in disappointment. I hadn't thought far enough ahead. 
the guy stared at the crumpled up envelope in his hand, and then back at me. “Why don’t you go sit down and i’ll figure something out for you,” his voice was kind as he noticed my dishevelled state. 
I nod, and then move to an empty seat in the corner of the bakery. Another employee was sweeping the floors, and i realize that the store must be due to close soon. I need to pull myself together… 
About ten minutes later, the guy from before walked over with a little white box in his hand. On top of the box sat my envelope which was now cleanly cut into. 
“It’s not the prettiest thing in the world,” the guy chuckled as he placed the small box in front of me, “but it should work” 
“Thank you,” i stutter, pulling a crisp $10 bill out of my pocket and handing it over to the guy. 
At first he shakes his head in an attempt to decline the money, but I insist he takes it anyway. 
back at home, i get comfy at my kitchen table where i finally open up my box. It was a vanilla cupcake with white vanilla frosting. 
I take a deep breath before taking a small bite, and when i swallow, i see the remaining pink icing that filled the inside of the cupcake. 
“we’re having a little girl,” i whispered, tears sliding down my cheeks as i rub my bump soothingly. 
⋆ ★
Jack Hughes was stuck. He felt bad for Vivienne and he felt bad for himself. It wasn’t Viviennes fault that his attention was elsewhere because on paper, Vivienne Aiden was probably who most would consider his perfect match. 
Vivienne was gorgeous, she had an online career going for her, and her apartment did smell amazing… but something just wasn’t right. 
When she fell asleep beside him, Jack would pull out his phone and scroll through his photo album full of pictures of his ex-girlfriend. He would wonder what she was doing, what new journalist piece she was working on, and most importantly, if she was happy. He couldn’t bear searching her up online, for fear of seeing she had moved on (which, let's be honest, is very hypocritical of him), so Jack settled with his photo album. 
When Jack finally closed his eyes for the night, he imagined the sleeping figure next to him was his y/n. Vanilla scent was swapped with coconut, a windy spring turned into an endless summer, and the lingering emptiness felt like coming home after a long roadie. 
And in the morning, when y/ns lovely green eyes woke him up, he would blink to find Vivienne staring back at him, and whatever relief he had accustomed himself with in sleep came crashing down again. 
⋆ ★
ynuser posted on their story! 
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jackhughes posted on their story!
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Vivienne posted on their story!
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⋆ ★
Vivienne wasn’t an idiot. she could feel the small shifts in Jack's behaviour. He was slowly distancing himself from her and she wouldn't allow that to happen. 
Therefore, she sent him a teasing photo, planned a romantic dinner at her apartment, and took care of business. 
Create an Account
User: user257483475
ynuser
Dm Request
User257483475: how does it feel knowing that you’re going to be a single mom?
User257483475: must be tough knowing that the daddy doesn’t want it
User257483475: if i were you i wouldn’t even try
Read
⋆ ★
“I can’t believe you're having a little girl!” Claudia squealed as she met me at the front of a baby store. I was now 6 months along, and I hadn’t done any of the necessary baby shopping yet. 
We walked into the store, light pinks and blues and purples clouding my vision. “I can't believe it either! A little girl…” I smile, picking up a little onesie. 
Claudia gets a basket, and we start to make our way through the store. “Have you thought of any names yet?” she asks as she holds up what might've been the cutest baby dress i’ve ever seen. 
I placed the dress in the basket. “I’ve been toying with a few names but it just feels strange” I pick up another little dress and put it in the basket as well. “I’m sure once I see the nursery all together it’ll feel a little more real and i’ll be able to pick something out” 
Claudia smiles at me sympathetically before taking the shopping basket out of my hand and guiding me towards the furniture section.
“I was thinking-” my phone buzzes causing me to pause. I pull out my phone, only to see a few instagram notifications. 
User257483475: viviennes so pretty, i bet you're real jealous huh?
User257483475: jack didn't even want to post you publicly and now he wont even acknowledge his baby… he never loved you.
User257483475: i wish you the worst xx
Read
“y/n? What were you thinking?” Claudia asks, immediately noticing my pause. She walks over to me, one hand on my shoulder as she tries to gauge my facial expressions. “Are you okay?”
I don't want to speak, and so I thrust my phone into Claudia's hands. 
She gasps when she reads the first message from a few weeks ago, and I can feel her tense beside me as she lets her hand drop from my shoulder.
“What the fuck!” she seethes as she stares at all the messages littering my phone.
“How do they know the baby’s Jacks? How do they even know I'm pregnant? My account’s private!” I utter as I close my eyes. 
“Who’s Vivienne?” Claudia asks as she switches out of my dms and onto the search page. I watch her type in Vivienne's name.
“She’s Jack’s girlfriend,” I reply just as Claudia presses on her instagram account. The newest picture on her feed was of her and Jack at some cafe… I felt nauseous. 
“Well, she’s obviously the one sending the messages” my best friend states firmly. Great I thought. Could my life get any more fucked up? 
That night at home, I easily verifiy that it was Vivienne behind the account. For all the scheming she liked to do, she wasn’t very good at covering her tracks. 
First, I used my laptop to try and log into her main instagram account. When I got the password wrong, I clicked the option for instagram to send a code for password resetting via email. The email, half unblurred, showed up on screen. Then, i moved onto the account who’s been sending me nasty messages. Repeated the process, and wouldn’t you know! Vivienne Aiden didn’t doesn’t know how to make a fake email for her fake account, that she uses to harass her boyfriend's ex! Nice. 
With that little confirmation, I blocked both her and the account she’s using to send me messages. 
⋆ ★
My baby’s nursery is painted a soft pink. Her crib is a beige wood, and there’s white flowy curtains with a blackout curtain set underneath. flower prints decorate the walls, and my baby’s name is highlighted on a beautiful homemade blanket which was gifted to me by one of my coworkers. 
“Are you ready, baby?” my mom asks to which I nod. I watch her silently as her hands weave between different sets of baby clothes.
She’s helping me get the nursery finished for babygirls birth next month. 
“I’m nervous, but i’m ready,” I smile, waddling over to the blush pink rocking chair that sits in the corner of the room. 
⋆ ★
“i’m not ready! i need jack!” i cry, squeezing my eyes shut tight as pain overtook my body. i could hear the nurses faintly in the background of my own thoughts, shouting something about an excess of blood. 
a group of nurses stand around me, all shouting different orders to one another. “ma’am you’re bleeding-“ 
“i need, i just need-“ 
a sweet looking nurse cut me off. “sweetie, you’re going to be alright. just breathe, i’ll be right here with you this whole time!” she grabs ahold of my hand to which i squeeze tightly. 
the room spins and my whole body feels cold. I could tell that the nurses started going about their business from all the pinching and poking that was going on, but i couldn’t figure out where all the pain was coming from.
⋆ ★
“Mommy?” I whispered. My mom whipped her head in my direction upon my words. 
“Oh sweetie,” she coos, tears lingering in her eyes as she sits on the edge of my hospital bed. she grabs ahold of my hand. 
“Is…” I start to ask about my daughter but a cry falls from my lips. 
My mom grabs my hand tighter and brushes my hair out of my face. “She’s in the NICU, but the nurses say she’s doing well” 
“Can I see her?” my voice is hoarse. My mom jumps up from the bed and fills an empty paper cup with water. She passes the cup to me, and I gratefully drink its contents. 
“I’ll go get a nurse, okay? She’ll tell you everything you need to know”
I had been asleep for roughly ten hours after my daughters birth. The doctor told me that the pain I woke up to last night was from blood clots, which is the reason behind all the blood and the premature birth. Luckily though, I was pretty close to full term, and I got to the hospital at the perfect time therefore babygirl would only have to stay at the NICU for a few short weeks to monitor her development. 
“what’s her name, sweetheart?” my mom whispered softly to me while her hand ghosted across hairline.
“Leighton Rowe LN,” I replied sleepily as I stared at my baby in my arms. Leightons sweet face suddenly made all the pain worth it.
my mom brushed my damp hair out of my face. “that’s beautiful,” she cooed, and when she gestured towards the baby I tiredly nodded.
as my mom took my baby out of my arms to coddle, i let my eyes close and then i softly drifted off to sleep.
⋆ ★
It was a few months later when it happened. claudia was at my apartment, watching leighton while i ran around the city to get some much needed errands done. i stop at my favourite coffee shop, a place that i hadn’t been to since jack and i broke up. 
i order my usual, a mocha to go, and when i turn to leave jack had just opened the door. I stumble back, not prepared to see jack in the flesh. He looks familiar and yet completely different. 
“y/n,” he greets me, his tone uncertain as he takes a step towards me. How dare he.
“If your girlfriend sends me one more fucking text i swear i’ll ruin her life” i start, my words threatening as i let the weight of viviennes words fall onto my shoulders. for months shes been creating new accounts and messaging me, and despite hitting the "block all and future accounts" feature she still managed to harass me.
“I get that you don’t want to have a baby, but she’s here, and I'm capable of doing it without you. I have been doing it without you. So get your girlfriend to stop harassing me or i’ll press charges,” i spit out, pushing past a shell-shocked jack and storming out onto the street. 
⋆ ★
“I have a baby!” jack shouts angrily, kicking one of vivienne's wooden dinning room chairs. “You hid my baby from me!” 
Vivienne stares, glassy eyed as she watches her boyfriend stomp around her apartment. “Jack, i didn’t mean for it to go this far i-”
“You what? What was the plan here?” he shouts again, running a hand frustratingly through his hair. Jack stops, whipping around to face vivienne again. “Show me the messages.”
“What?” she cries. 
“y/n said you were sending her messages. Show me them” jack repeats, causing vivienne to jump up in alarm. If he saw even half of the things she sent…
Jack storms up to vivienne who immediately pulls her phone out of her pocket. She switches onto one of her many burner accounts used to send y/n messages. 
Jack sat on the couch, hunched over while he read through every single message. He felt sick. 
he hates you
It must suck knowing that your child's dad doesn't want her
Jacks going to be the best daddy to our future baby… its too bad he didn’t want that for you. 
“Jack we can fix this, i swear i’ll do better and-”
Jack stood up abruptly, letting viviennes phone tumble to the ground with a loud thud. “We’re- we’re past done. I don't even know what to say to you,” jack stutters, tears falling steadily down his cheeks. 
“Baby, i’m so sorry” vivienne cries. she tries to reach out to jack, be he swats her hands away. 
Jack backs away, and without another word he leaves viviennes apartment with the slam of a door.  he had to make this right to y/n and his... baby.
-
part three
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g0dlyunsub · 4 months
Note
hey! Idk if u take requests but I love your writing style and have a request! Can you do a Spencer x fem reader where she doesn't work for the Bau but they have been together for like 7 months and she is girly and like loves fashion and is superrr pretty and the team doesn't know about her but they see Spencer out with her one day and can't believe he's with her/has a gf bc they're so different and they tease him about her bc he's just head over heels in love with her and they are so obsessed with each other and it's just so cute!!! Thank you in advance!!!!🤍🤍
yes, i do take requests! thank you for the kind words, and i hope you enjoy this one <3
picture perfect.
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you work shifts at a local coffee shop where a man frequents every friday evening. at first glance, the two of you are polar opposites; while you are covered in flowery pastel colors head to toe, he dresses strictly in professional attire. when love eventually blossoms between you and the doctor, he makes every effort to be with you – even when teased by his coworkers.
pairing :: spencer x fem!reader
warnings :: none? some suggestive overtone.
word count :: 2.3k
author’s note :: this is probably the fluffiest text i’ve written by far, i swear i’m biting straight into cotton candy. fingers crossed that i’ve portrayed the story well… 
accompanying song :: the perfect pair by beabadoobee
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he doesn’t know how to deal with these unfamiliar feelings, especially when they’re eating away at his thoughts at work. his usual ability to read at 20,000 words per minute seems to be reduced to half its pace for almost seven days now, one of his worst nightmares in full action. he doesn’t know what to think when your bubbly face lights up in his head – when your pretty features accentuated by the glowy highlights around your eyes and the soft glassiness of your pink lips etch into his imagination. thoughts of you come to light like a switch in his head, and they pop up during the worst times, including a police chase on the highway, an interrogation with a female unsub that styled her hair similar to yours, and worst of all, whenever he tries to make coffee in the office. it’s almost a pavlovian response, the way he unconsciously gulps in tingling nervousness as he pours the sugar into his cup.
but he’s a man that thinks with his head, a man that doesn’t listen to his heart.
he’s a man that thinks with his head. when you hand over his usual, dark espresso with three sugar packets on the side, with the words cheer up, doctor reid! <3 scribbled with winged hearts all around the cup, he has to excuse himself and run to the bathroom. there, he spends ten minutes clenching his shirt, squeezing the fabric with sheer strength because you and your actions are irresistibly adorable. he can’t look in the mirror, because he sees you standing right next to him in the reflection, and it drives him crazy.
he’s a man that thinks with his head. when he enters the coffee shop on one friday afternoon with a cut near his left brow, you immediately stop what you’re doing and go over to his table before he can even settle down in his seat. you insist on covering the wound, and you pull out a pink flower-patterned bandaid from your apron pocket. he watches as your hands lightly tremble to remove the adhesive strips, and melts at how you brush his hair aside to press the bandaid lightly against his forehead. it only takes a whiff of your vanilla scent to lose all sense of time and his surroundings – he can only look up into your heavenly eyes, which blink slowly in the hazy lighting.
he’s a man that should think with his head. when he sees you wearing an outfit that isn’t your coffee shop apron for the first time, he stops dead in his tracks. 
it was late that friday, and it was well past his usual time to enter the shop, but he could never let a full week pass without surrounding himself in your jolly aura. 
as you prepare to close the blinds and flip the store sign, you see a familiar face press a hand to the other side of the front door. you immediately let him in, and he’s frantically apologizing for his tardiness. 
“it’s completely fine! i’ll get your regular going in just a second!” your bubbly laugh fades as you head back to the counter, and for the first time, he soaks in the emptiness of the shop’s usually chatter-filled environment. there’s only one overhead light turned on, and the scent of lavender drifts with a candle’s airy smoke. 
he’s fixated entirely on your outfit. you’re wearing a ruched top with pink laces and frills for straps, and paired with a pleated mini skirt with knee-length socks, you’re a beautiful sight to behold. when you catch him looking, you strike a small pose, one hand on your hip and an empty coffee cup on the other. you then burst into your soft giggles.
he can’t. he absolutely can’t.
his eyes are glued down to where his hands are clasped on the table. when you ask him if he’s had a rough day, he answers with a simple two-word response, sort of. you don’t question him further, and he’s thankful you don’t. 
if he believes in anything other than science, it’s aphrodite and her blessings to bestow your pluperfect presence before him. it’s as if cupid shot an arrow directly into his heart, or if a mage cast an irrevocable spell on him. he doesn’t want to imagine a life without you. 
and every night since then, he wonders if you have a boyfriend. he wonders if he could somehow ask garcia to search you up, but he knows he shouldn’t exploit his position to take his chances with you. at least his head doesn’t want to.
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his heart tells him to take a chance. 
he decides to take the leap of faith.
he knows your favorite flower, clothing brand, and lip tint like the back of his palm. he recites the answers every morning, a secret rehearsal he conducts as he straightens his tie in front of the mirror. he makes a purchase from your favorite flower shop a few blocks away from your store, and sucks in a deep breath before flicking his watch so it rolls up his wrist. he gently presses on the door handle.
you’re busy as usual, preparing cups and plating desserts for each customer. the line moves forward with a rhythmic pace, and you greet each customer, regulars and first-timers alike, with the same smile. your eyes enlarge when your favorite customer stands in front of the cash register, and the sight of his face instantly transmits a sigh of relief from your lips. you look down at his hand, where you notice he’s holding your favorite flowers that are wrapped tightly in pink gift paper.
“ah, didn’t know you liked those too!” you lower your head to examine the flowers in their full glory, and spencer even brings them up to your nose so you can smell the sweet scent.
“they’re for you, actually.” he speaks matter-of-factly, but there’s a hint of excited overtone.
“you got these… for me? i- thank you so much! you didn’t have to!” you hurriedly accept the bouquet as he extends his hand over the counter, and set the flowers down on a neighboring table. you scurry over to the cake display and plop a slice of cake on a small plate, before handing his usual drink with extra sugar on the side. 
“all on the house!” your lips shape up into a beautiful crescent shape, and he finds himself fiddling his watch to resist looking you in the eye. he gives you a lopsided smile, and nervously grabs two forks from the counter before leaving you a ten dollar bill in your tip jar.
“i-if you’d like, you can come find me during your break. we can have the cake together… again, that’s only if you’d like,” his fingers jitter as he stuffs his hands into his pockets, and before you can object, he’s making strides back to his seat.
when it’s break time, you find spencer in his usual corner, his cake left untouched.
“you shouldn’t have waited, really,” you grab a tall stool and set it so you’re sitting with your knees touching his. he looks up from his book, time and eternity by seiichi hatano. 
“this is your favorite dessert, isn’t it?” he moves the plate towards you so you can take the first bite. when you do, staring right into his eyes as your tastebuds hit the fork, he instinctively licks his lips. 
spencer tells you that he needs to get something off his chest.
“what is it?” you ask, and he points to your apron. loosen the knot behind your back, he tells you, and you do. you feel a note twisted in between the fabric, and you confusedly uncrumple the crinkled paper.
it reads, will you be my girlfriend? 
the dot of the ‘i’ in girlfriend is drawn in with a shaded heart, and you bite your lip back as the cute aggression kicks in.
you don’t even hesitate. you have so many questions about how the paper’s even got there in the first place, but you couldn’t care to ask. you’re fervently nodding at him, leaning in and giving him a tight embrace. he hadn’t expected you to react so quickly, so he hesitates for a brief second before wrapping his arms around you.
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present day, and he walks with you side-by-side, your hand enclosed in his. you’re humming a soft tune and he’s looking at you with a wide grin on his face. he’s so lucky to have you, an absolute dream come true. he’s grateful for how he gets to spend every night with you, a significant advancement from once every week at the coffee shop.
speaking of the coffee shop, it’s been seven months since the two of you sat together in the quaint corner of the café, and since then, he’s utterly fallen for you. his eyes follow your every move, and he listens as you ramble about your favorite dress on sale at the large shopping mall a few blocks from the apartment. while he makes mental notes of all of your favorite items, the reality is he’s finding it to be an incredible struggle trying to focus on your words. his focus hones in on your exposed neck with a laced choker wrapped around. it’s such a fragile piece of fabric, weighted with a heart-shaped locker with his initials. his initials.
he gulps. he wants to stick a finger between the fabric and your neck, and he wonders what it’s like to have you wrapped around his finger, so intimately linked.
just as his thoughts intensify, a voice breaks out from across the street.
“reid!”
you squeeze spencer’s arm as a group of well-dressed people approach the two of you, waving while their mouths hang open in surprise.
“there’s no way i’m seeing you on a shopping spree right now!” a woman with straight jet-black hair grins, her thumb hooked on her belt loop as she leans to one side. a woman with blonde hair and red glasses sporting a colorful spotted dress shortly joins the union alongside another man, who exudes a mysteriously charismatic air with his bold sunglasses.
they acknowledge your presence each with a handshake and introduce themselves. 
“you never told me you were seeing someone,” morgan whistles, patting spencer on the shoulder.
spencer’s quiet during the entire exchange, and he mumbles quietly about how he’s busy helping you run errands.
“you guys moved in together yet?” the man continues to ask, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he smirks. you nod and gleefully say yes, to which spencer lets out a squeak. 
“oh would you look at that! our little spencer’s all grown now! my man,” morgan leans in for a side-hug, and spencer awkwardly bows his head down. his entire face is now red, his lips buried in the soft texture of his scarf. garcia and emily look at you and spencer with an awestruck expression.
“where’d you find such a beautiful woman?” emily points a finger at you while interrogating spencer, and while you’re sure she’s just being nice, you can feel the heat surfacing from your cheeks.
“shut up, emily,” your boyfriend puffs, and he quickly grabs your hand and shoves it in his pocket. he mouths, let’s go, but you’re too polite to leave a conversation that hasn’t formally ended.
“aww, is our hollywood genius shy?” morgan prods at spencer’s arm, while spencer brushes his hand off with an annoyed expression. meanwhile, the girls compliment your style and continue to shower you with questions, asking you where you were headed to and how you met spencer. 
“well, i’m glad to know you’re a beautiful person, inside and out. i sort of knew spencer was seeing someone, but i didn’t expect any of this. you’re the cutest woman i’ve ever encountered, and i’m sure spencer’s overjoyed to have someone like you,” garcia talks excitedly and grasps your hands in her palms.
“and i’m lucky to have met someone like him.” you smile sweetly, tilting your head to look at spencer. he’s looking at the ground as if it’s more interesting than the conversation at hand.
“take care of him for us, will you?” morgan winks at you.
“of course.”
“and remind him every day that he’s with the most beautiful person in the world.”
you feel a tug at your jacket, and you turn around. spencer’s face is lit up with a deep shade of pink, and you know he’s signaling that he wants to head home. you quickly turn to the group to tell them you have to go, and they nod understandingly. garcia offers a tight embrace and pouts as spencer practically pries you away from her.
when the two of you turn the corner, he looks back over his shoulder to make sure his coworkers are out of sight. he then encloses you in a tight embrace and kisses your forehead.
“i’m sorry about that sudden… encounter,” he speaks into your ear, and you feel your heart flutter. your eyes close momentarily, and when you open them, he’s peering down at you while his hand rubs up and down your arm.
“don’t be, i enjoyed talking to them,” you whisper back, staring into his steady gaze.
“i’m sorry for not telling them earlier, but i really meant to. i love you... so much.” he vocalizes the last five words with a breathy tone, and you freeze, replaying the moment over and over again in your head.
they’re words you wish could be assembled and framed on a wall, transformed into something tangible that captures the picture-perfect moment of his romantic confession.
“tell me that a hundred more times when we get home.” you give him a cheesy grin before you blush at the realization of your own words.
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cinnbar-bun · 3 months
Text
Pony (Various SBR x Reader)
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Characters: Diego Brando, Johnny Joestar, Mountain Tim, Gyro Zeppeli (separate)
Prompt: "My saddle's waitin' / Come and jump on it."
Summary: How ya'll get down and dirty together with your fave cowboys.
Rating: NSFW THERE IS NOTHING BUT SMUT HERE
Notes: Reader is GN!, no body parts mentioned for reader, implied to be during the SBR, no spoilers for Part 7, just pure smut hcs.
Word Count: ~2.3k
You can read on my AO3 here!
Taglist (if you'd like to be added, please fill out the form in my pinned): @bruabbina @adeadcreator
Diego Brando 
The type to suggest a casual arrangement before he gets seriously involved with you. He says it’s just to relieve some stress during the race but before you know it, he wants you closer. 
Tries to present himself as a dominating and forceful top, and that’s probably how many of your sessions will go at first. He refuses to give up power easily and especially not in a presumed ‘casual’ mutually beneficial arrangement. 
In reality he can be quite the switch, something that will be explored the more you two get intimate. He relishes power struggles, and will goad you into trying to dominate him further or putting you deeper in your place. 
A talker, Diego will almost never shut up. Whether it’s praising how your body squeezes him, degrading you smugly, coaxing you to ‘tame’ him, or begging for some pleasure- his mouth will be running. 
He makes such beautiful noises <3 
Prefers to have sex in more secluded areas, preferably your tents late at night. But if pushed to it, he will not be opposed to just taking you in an alley or in the woods out in the open. 
“Since you acted so wanton earlier, it shouldn’t be an issue for you, should it? Now stop whining.” 
He loves when suck him off while he’s sitting or standing. It makes him feel like a king. He’ll give you plenty of praise or condescending compliments while you do so. 
His fingers are amazing. Calloused from holding the reins for so many years, but experienced at the best ways to give you pleasure. 
Diego tends to admit his true feelings or get more possessive during sex. A lot of “mine” or “for me” and “I love you’s” are thrown out while he’s going at it (or you’re going at him). 
Occasionally cannot hold back how feral he feels because of Scary Monsters. He will be rutting and grinding into you and telling you he needs you now. 
Probably one of the few occasions he will not be talking beyond mindless grunts, groans, and growls. 
Does like roleplay, not really anything elaborate (especially not during the race when time is limited), but he does like indulging in specific ‘roles’ for you both. He tends to like being called ‘master’ or ‘sir’ or even ‘my lord’. Don’t worry, he’s happy to do the same for you if you want it (sigh can you imagine him calling you master/mistress I’m-). 
Has no preference for where he finishes, because he truthfully wants to cover himself all over you, whether you swallow, giving you a facial, or inside- he’s raring to go again to finish on a different spot and exert his place with you. 
If under the influence of Scary Monsters, though, he will tend to want to finish inside you. 
His aftercare is pretty crappy at first, especially when it’s meant to be ‘casual’, because he thinks he’s such hot shit that you should be grateful you even got to sleep with him. But as he gets closer to you, he will either grumble and tell you you’re so dirty while cleaning you, or just silently help you then hold you close. 
He can be very clingy after sex, making him hold you close and bury his face into your shoulder/chest so he can inhale your scent and regain himself.
Johnny Joestar 
Type to get caught trying to ‘relieve’ himself and weakly ask for your help. And really, how could you resist that flustered face?
Johnny isn’t inexperienced, absolutely not, but he hasn’t slept with another since his time as a pompous jockey who had people throwing themselves onto him left and right. The guilt and his injury left him rather rusty and self-conscious about his performance. 
You’re gonna have to do a lot of the heavy lifting with him, but Johnny proves himself to be an eager lover. 
Lots of foreplay between the two of you, with Johnny having a preference for face-sitting. He also will incorporate some of the Spin with you to act as a ‘vibrator’ of sorts to pleasure you more. 
Self-conscious at first but slowly grows more comfortable and confident as you two continue together, making him relax. While at first he tries to stay silent or apologizes/mumbles under his breath a lot, he’ll slowly begin to crack some jokes and be more vocal. 
This is when you’ll see Johnny shine more. He’ll offer more creative suggestions and kinks for the both of you to try out. He’s wonderful at adapting on the fly if he finds you enjoying/disliking something. 
Besides his stated fetish for bug bites (which will seriously get him going if he sees you with some), he just really loves your ass. He straight up cannot get enough of it, and will be grabbing and holding it whenever he can. 
Continuing with that logic, he loves reverse cowgirl because he loves seeing your ass bounce against him. 
Johnny’s dirty talk tends to consist of him throwing expletives and saying what he feels. He’s not too good with roleplay because after a while the pleasure crashes his brain and he just starts talking mindlessly. 
“Ah, shit, you feel so good… fuck, keep going.” 
He can be a teasing bastard when he really feels like it. Often, he’ll employ the Spin on you, then pull it away just before you finish. He can get pretty cheeky, but that’s just how you know how comfortable he is with you. 
His neck and collarbone are some of his more sensitive spots, and if you focus your attention there, he loses his mind. Leave him some hickeys and tug on his hair, and he’s positively gone. He will complain about the marks later, but secretly admire them and be happy he’s got them from you. 
He likes finishing on your ass. Second favorite thing would be to have you swallow, but he finds it pretty attractive if some of it spills out of your lips. 
His aftercare is good and he’ll do his best to care and comfort you. But majority of the time he’s just spent and exhausted and wants to snuggle with you. He gets rather soft and whispers a lot while you two bask in the afterglow. 
Mountain Tim 
The type of man to want to be romantically involved with you and take it slow, before he can’t contain himself and has to have you. 
Tim is a gentleman, he really is. For a bounty hunter, the man takes great care to try and woo you and behave properly around you. Because, truthfully, this man is a romantic deep down. 
He’ll never try and let his desires get the best of him for fear of taking advantage of you, so you’ll have to initiate. And the minute you initiate, he’s all for it and will jump at the opportunity. 
A giving lover- so giving that the both of you, on occasion, were spent with only the foreplay. 
He’s passionate. His actions can be overwhelming in the bedroom, but you can practically feel the love dripping out of him. He goes nuts for you. 
Obviously, bondage is most likely occurring. His stand gives him a multitude of ways to tie you up and tease you with his body. He will take advantage of his powers to bring you the utmost pleasure. 
However, his favorite kinks include cockwarming and overstimulation. He would love to be inside you forever if he could, and he often likes to tease you by having you sit on him for a while before he moves. 
As for overstimulation… he’s gonna make you cum over and over. He always praises you for finishing and will try to urge another orgasm out of you. He loves seeing your face and hearing your breathless moans and whimpers. 
“That’s it darling… that’s it. You’re doing so good for me… you can give me another one, can’t you? I know you can, darlin’. Just let me take care of you.”
Heavy on the praise. He’s never mean or degrading, because he loves you too damn much to do that. At worst he’d do some condescending praise, but majority of the time it is pure praise for how amazing you are and how good you feel. 
While he can lean into some sub/dom dynamics with you, often sex is just an outlet for the both of you to express your affection and love. 
He is often a service top for you, but leans more towards dom. That doesn’t mean he won’t sub for you, he absolutely will if you desire it. He’d love nothing more than to see you riding him. 
He prefers positions where he can see your face. Tim will coo for you to look into his eyes and shake his head when you try and cover your face or look away. He just loves seeing your facial expressions. 
Reverse cowgirl is a good treat once in a while for him, too. He loves being able to smack your ass and praise how you’re riding him. 
Likes to finish inside. He believes it’s more proof that the two of you are bound together. 
His aftercare is amazing. Probably the best guy around at it. Course, he’ll be a bit of a flirt and tease, but he always care for you just as any good cowboy should. 
Gyro Zeppeli 
Also the type to suggest a casual sexual relationship with you before he falls for you. 
If you were to look up “wild” in the dictionary, you’d find Gyro’s picture right next to it because this man is an absolute loose cannon in the bedroom. Or tent. Or woods. Or alley. Or body of water. Or wherever the hell you two decide to have sex. 
Gyro isn’t ashamed of his desires and will seek you out pretty often. 
He’s experimental in bed. He is experienced from his many sexual escapades back then, but since the race, he’s been steady with you and likes trying whatever new wacky whim crosses through his mind. 
His surgical and anatomical knowledge combined with his teasing nature makes him a menace. He knows almost every nerve and muscle on your body and how to manipulate it for your pleasure. Not to mention, his control over the Spin will have him working your body in overtime. 
Gyro likes to tease you during inopportune times by using the Spin on you to act as a vibrator and get you excited, but he’ll act like nothing is going on around the others and make you wait. He’ll eventually have the two of you secluded and “take care” of the problem he caused, all while having that shit-eating grin on his face as he tells you you’re getting too desperate. 
This man is getting goofy and silly with you during sex. Expect some bad puns or jokes while he’s ramming your insides. 
An unfair and rough lover who gets pleasure from hearing your voice. He will never want you to be quiet, and he makes it his mission to have you screaming by the end of it. He might chide you and call you out for being too loud, but honestly he doesn’t care if everyone else is hearing it. He just loves how your voice sounds. 
Roleplay is common between the two of you. Sometimes it’s ‘prisoner x jailer/executioner’, ‘surgeon x patient’, or ‘royal x dutiful, loyal executioner who is totally gonna be rewarded for being an awesome partner today in the race, right?’ 
Gyro surprisingly can stay in character and he will play his roles very well for you. He gets pretty into them when he wants to. 
Likes doggy style a lot. Whether for you or him, he just wants someone being on all fours and their ass being grabbed. 
Switch, leaning more towards top/dom. But he finds it hot if you take charge of him and put him in his place (and he’ll serve you like no other, baby). Will call you whatever you want him to call you, no questions asked. 
Occasionally drops some Italian in the middle of banging you. This was especially prevalent when he started falling for you and would loudly proclaim “ti amo” over and over without addressing it in English. 
Despite his playful attitude both in the bedroom and out, he can get pretty serious and emotional with you. Sometimes the rough horseplay just doesn’t cut it, and he’ll lay back and thrust slowly into you while gripping your hips to help you ride him. He’ll talk less in these moments and just enjoy hearing both of your gasps and quiet moans. 
Doesn’t have a specific preference on where to finish. He just does it wherever he feels. He commonly does it on your back or stomach, depending on the position. 
His aftercare is wonderful. Yeah, he can be a joker sometimes but the afterglow with you is nice and can get pretty romantic. He’ll glide his hands over you gently and trace over the marks he may have left on you or just to feel your skin underneath his fingers. He’ll clean you up and have you both rest. He did reveal he could relieve some of the soreness from your body with the Spin, so occasionally he’ll do it (admittedly, he does like seeing you limp or wobble after a tryst with him). 
It’s where Gyro will be at his most tender with you, where he will cradle you and look at you with eyes full of love and desire for you. He speaks quietly in these moments and likes to ramble about nothing with you. And when he pulls a small laugh out of you, he thinks he could just die on the spot and be content.
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elizaleclerc · 4 months
Note
Hello, I love your writing, can I request Charles Leclerc x singer!reader where they already knew each other back when they were teenagers but the reader moves to LA to pursue her career so they kinda feel off cuz of the long distance, so years later Charles decides to surprise her at one of her concerts and tries to shoot his shoot after all those years they end up together and it's all fluffy and cute.
Sorry if this doesn't make sense english is not my first language, thank you <3
love this!!! tysm <3
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birds of a feather ✿
charles leclerc x reader
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summary: fem singer!reader reignites an old teenage love with famous driver charles leclerc
songs: birds of a feather by b.eilish, the 1 by t.swift
author’s note: mostly cute and fluffy but had to add a bit of angst oops! inspo from billie’s new album obv bc that’s all i’m listening to rn. also some google translate involved so oops again if it’s wrong :)
word count: 4k
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In the luxurious city of Monaco, you and Charles were cruising along the winding roads late at night, a favored pastime for the two of you. The cool breeze tousled your hair as the windows were rolled down, filling the car with the scent of saltwater and adventure. You stole a glance at Charles in the driver's seat, his face adorned with that familiar boyish grin, his eyes sparkling just as they did on the day you met him.
The car zoomed down the winding road, its expensive engine purring like a contented cat. Despite its luxurious interior, Charles had no qualms about letting you put your feet up on the dash. The scarlet sky painted with streaks of orange and pink was the perfect backdrop for this drive at sunset.
One thing different about this drive at sunset was that one of your own songs was playing on the radio. At only 19 years old, your song “Birds of a Feather” was reaching the top of the charts worldwide. At any chance he got, Charles would blast it at full volume whenever the two of you were together. It only made sense considering the song was about him.
You and Charles had been inseparable since childhood, a bond that felt unbreakable and essential to your very existence. Over the years, you both had your fair share of romantic partners, but it seemed like none of them could compare to the connection you shared. Despite any ups and downs in your own love lives, you and Charles always found your way back to each other, like two ships anchored together in the stormy sea of life.
Of course, there were fleeting moments when you wondered if there could be something more between you and Charles. The thought would cross your mind as his hand brushed yours or when he made you laugh until your sides ached. But those thoughts remained just that - fleeting and unspoken. You both cherished your friendship too much to risk changing its dynamic.
But deep down, underneath layers of familiarity and comfort, there was a quiet longing that neither of you acknowledged. A shared understanding that there was something more between you than just being best friends. And although it was left unsaid, it was an unspoken truth that added a layer of depth to your friendship.
The bass of the song throbbed through the car, drowning out Charles' words as he spoke to you. You strained to hear him over the music, but all you could see were his lips moving in time with the beat. "What?!" you shouted comically with a grin, and he reached for the volume knob to turn it down.
"I said, it's only a matter of time before you're touring worldwide," he repeated with a small smile. You shook your head in amusement. Charles always had grand visions for your music career, dreaming of reaching the stars and achieving the highest goals even when you couldn't imagine them yourself.
“You’re only saying that to be nice,” you playfully bantered with him, knowing deep down he truly believed in your talent.
A wistful smile crossed his face as he replied, “I’m serious. Before you know it, you’ll be in L.A., living your dream and making music for the world.” His words had a bittersweet edge to them, causing your own smile to falter. There was truth in his statement - Charles had just signed with Ferrari and would soon be the busiest he's ever been in his career as a Formula One driver. You were endlessly proud of him and all that he had accomplished. It feels like just yesterday when you both were just kids with big dreams, but now here you are, actually making strides towards achieving those dreams. Even with a hit song on the radio and promising opportunities ahead, you still felt like you were ages behind in becoming someone big in the music industry. And the thought of possibly leaving your best friend behind as you pursued your dreams weighed heavily on your heart.
He noticed the solemn expression on your face, his eyes full of understanding and affection. "Ah, come on," he said gently, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "You know I mean that in a good way." His voice was warm and sincere."L.A. is a hotbed for the music industry right now," he continued, his excitement palpable. "And haven't you always talked about wanting to go to the States?"
You nodded slowly, unable to contain a small smile at the thought. "Yeah, but...I can't even imagine us being apart for so long," you admitted with a hint of sadness. "We've never been separated for more than a week. And even then, you were blowing up my phone every day." You couldn't help but laugh at the memory.
His own laughter rang out, contagious and genuine. "So now you know that when you're in the U.S., you won't have to worry about us not talking," he reassured you. "Clearly, I can't get enough of you." His words made your heart swell with love and comfort. Despite any ridiculous or anxious thoughts that may cross your mind, you were always reminded that the bond between you two could stretch thousands of miles.
About a week later, you had hired a manager with the help of your parents and were looking at record labels to sign with. Your social media pages were blowing up with new fans anticipating and begging for new music. It was a rightful step for a singer who had just had a song blow up, to make more music.
After many phone calls and contracts, you decided on the best deal to sign with the record label you had always wanted. With a location in Los Angeles, Sony Music Entertainment was your new employer. 
As the days passed, the familiar childhood bedroom in Monaco slowly transformed into a maze of boxes and packing materials. The bittersweet scent of nostalgia clung to the air as you said goodbye to the people and places that had shaped you. It was early February, just before the newest Formula One season started, but Charles seemed to be swallowed up by his work, juggling the responsibilities of being their rookie driver. In those fleeting moments between racing events, he squeezed in time for you, knowing that soon you would both be consumed by your separate paths. On the last night together, you took a nostalgic drive around town, savoring every street corner and landmark. As the sun dipped below the horizon, you returned to your house - now empty and cold without all of your belongings. The silence hung heavy in the air as you sat side by side, cherishing these final moments together.
You both sat on your bed as you rested your head on his shoulder and asked, “How did this even happen?” 
“Your talent will always drive you towards success, how could it not happen?” He replied and it made your eyes water. You weren’t sure how you were going to adjust with your time apart. You’ll miss his advice and little jokes. You’ll miss your late night drives around Monaco with him, taking in the cool air.
As he turned to face you, his piercing eyes caught the glistening trails of tears streaming down your cheeks. His own expression shifted from concern to sadness as he took in the sight of your heartbroken state. With a heavy sigh, he reached out to gently wipe away a stray tear from your cheek and murmured, "Please don't cry." Your eyes met his with a solemn understanding, but your bottom lip began to quiver despite your efforts.
You couldn't help but notice the glimmer of tears in his own eyes, which only made your own tears flow even more freely. Together, you both sat on the edge of your bed, gripping each other's hands tightly as you cried until it became almost comical at just how much emotion was pouring out of both of you. In between sobs, he managed to let out a small laugh and said, "It's not even an actual goodbye, I'll see you again soon.”
You couldn't help but laugh along with him through your tears. "I know," you replied with a watery smile. "I'll see you before I know it.”
But as the night wore on and the hour grew late, the reality of tomorrow morning's early flight to L.A. began to sink in. Despite wanting to hold onto this moment for as long as possible, you both knew it was time to say goodbye. You stood up and shared one final embrace, his arms enveloping you in a tight hug while yours rested around his neck. The warmth of his body and the familiar scent of his cologne brought a sense of comfort amidst the pain of parting ways.
“Tu vas me manquer mon amour,” he whispered by your ear, which made you squeeze him tighter. 
“Tu vas me manquer davantage, Char.” You replied with a raspy voice, your cheeks still wet with tears. He blew you a kiss before walking out the door.
~ 5 years later ~
The electric energy of Los Angeles, California pulsed through the air as you walked towards the venue on the opening night of your highly anticipated second tour. Fresh off the massive success of your second album, fans from all over the world were eagerly awaiting your performance tonight. You could already hear their screams and see their signs, some bearing your name since the very beginning of your career. Your first tour had been small, just a few cities in the U.S., but now with your skyrocketing fame, this tour would take you to stages across the globe. The thought of performing for thousands of people in different countries sent a thrill through your veins. As you approached the entrance, excitement and nerves intertwined within you, ready to take on this new chapter in your music career.
As you nervously waited backstage, dressed in a stunning white gown for your highly anticipated opening night in Los Angeles, your mind couldn't help but wander to a familiar name: Charles. The two of you had been inseparable during your first year in L.A., constantly talking and supporting each other's dreams. But as time went on, his calls and texts became less frequent until they eventually stopped altogether. You found yourself relying on social media to keep up with him and were happy to see that he had found success with Ferrari, but also couldn't shake the feeling of hurt and confusion as to why he had suddenly disappeared from your life. You debated reaching out to congratulate him on his wins, but deep down, you knew it wouldn't make a difference.
The next years after that became hard, and you struggled to make genuine connections with anyone in the industry. You found that often other artists wanted to use you for their fame or publicity. But you had found one genuine person, your boyfriend. The two of you dated for two years, but two weeks before the opening night of your world tour, he broke things off. You were devastated, as he had become someone you loved dearly and could trust with your whole being. His reason was that he realized he couldn’t handle your level of fame and that it was becoming too much for him to handle. 
So here you were, backstage, reminiscing on your career up until this point. Your mind ran over the setlist a thousand times. “Birds of a Feather” hadn’t made the cut for this tour, and you stopped performing it all together once Charles had stopped communicating with you. You weren’t sure why he was on your mind so much for your opening night. 
As you stepped out onto the stage, a wave of excited nerves washed over you. But with each step and movement, your confidence grew until it radiated off of you like a second skin. The bright lights illuminated your white dress, making it glow against the dark backdrop. You knew this dress well, having spent hours upon hours rehearsing in it, mastering every twirl and flick of the sleeves. And now, as you sang and danced flawlessly, you felt like a true star. Every note was hit perfectly, every movement graceful and deliberate. It was as if you were born to be on that stage, commanding the attention of everyone in the audience. The familiar click of a metronome and the muffled directions from backstage played in your in-ears, guiding you through the performance like a well-oiled machine. You had become a masterful performer, honing your craft to perfection.
You wished you could remember every moment of this night as you went through the setlist. You performed “the 1”, a song from your most recent album. Fans speculated it was about the recent split with your boyfriend, but really in your mind you knew it was about Charles. Your fans mostly were unaware of Charles and the old friendship the two of you had. He rarely talked about you in the media, and you were never asked about him, even though the two of you were individually growing more famous by the day.
As the final song ended, you returned backstage, the sweat dripping down your face and your body heaving with exhaustion. This tour was more physically demanding than your last one, with intricate dance routines and high-energy performances. But it was all worth it as you heard the crowd's roar of approval after each song and saw their hands in the air, singing along to every lyric. The adrenaline rush and satisfaction of a flawless opening night kept you going despite the fatigue setting in.
You got a flood of compliments from your team and the crew backstage as you felt the dewy feeling of sweat on your forehead cool down. Your manager came up to and wrapped you in a big hug, congratulating you and updating you on the next steps for the tour.
“I know you don’t typically meet people after shows, but there’s actually a visitor here for you. He was pretty persistent.” She told you as you stood outside your dressing room. 
“Who is it?” You asked tiredly, not wishing for long interactions with people after the show. You were worn out, and typically napped or slept through the night after a long show. 
“He said his name is Charles Leclerc. Went on about how you guys were childhood friends. He showed his ID and credentials so we allowed it.” Your manager explained everything and as she was speaking your face became flushed. Charles was here, in L.A? And your management had allowed him to meet with you. You were partly in shock and partly frustrated with how easily he was able to persuade your team.
“Well…where is he?” You asked, and your manager pointed to your dressing room door. “He’s in my dressing room?” You questioned in a surprised voice, lowering your voice in case he could hear you.  
“We weren’t sure where else he could’ve waited. He made it seem like he needed to have a serious talk with you.” She explained further and you put your head in your hands. You couldn’t believe the words that had come out of her mouth, and thought that maybe she was joking. You thought that you’d open up your dressing room door and it would be empty, earning a loud laugh from her and a “Got you!”
As you slowly opened your door, still clad in your flowing white dress, your heart caught in your throat as you saw Charles sitting on the plush brown leather couch. The air was thick with surprise and a tinge of nervousness, evidenced by Charles' fidgeting hands rubbing against his pants. You could barely breathe as you managed to utter a breathless greeting, "Hi."
He stood up abruptly, his body language tense and unsure. “Hi,” he replied.
The silence hung between you like a heavy curtain as you asked, "What...um...what are you doing here?" Your fingers instinctively ran through your slightly tangled hair as you waited for his response, feeling both overwhelmed and curious about this unexpected visit.
As he stood before you, he seemed to struggle with his words, his voice catching and pausing as if trying to contain an overwhelming emotion. You gazed at him in awe, taking in every detail of his changed appearance. The dimple in his cheek still deepened when he spoke, the same crystal eyes sparkled with unreadable emotions. But now his shoulders were broader, defined muscles rippling beneath his shirt, and his neck had thickened with strength. It was clear that time had passed, but it had only enhanced his features instead of diminishing them. "I," he finally managed to say, his gaze never leaving yours, "I came here to apologize." You couldn't believe he was standing in front of you after so long. And in this moment, all you could think about was how much you missed him and how different things could have been if he had stayed.
“Apologize?” You repeated, awaiting further clarification. 
“I’ve missed you terribly.” He began to pour out, finally getting a grip on his words, “Every day we haven’t been together has haunted me. You’ve plagued my dreams, my every waking thought.” He took a swallow, “I see you online, doing amazing things, and I just feel this guilt that I’m not there with you.”
You could hardly believe the words he was saying. You felt the same, you missed him every morning you woke and every night you went to sleep. Yet you felt a tinge of resentment. He could have been there, he could have responded to your dozens of calls and texts. 
“I’m sorry, mon chérie.” He finished his speech.
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and your eyes watered with emotion, your face contorted with hurt. Your voice came out breathless as you spoke, "Char, why didn't you call?" Your heart ached with longing and you couldn't understand why he hadn't taken action to bridge the distance between you. The unspoken desire between you was almost tangible, making the current situation even more painful for both of you.
“My ex-girlfriend, once we got together she saw how often we communicated and told me that I couldn’t talk to you anymore. And I thought I loved her so much that I was willing to do whatever it took. But…it turns out…” He paused, looking you in the eyes. 
“What?” You questioned, waiting for him to spit it out. 
“It turns out as the years went on, that I just loved you.” He said as he stepped closer. 
“You don’t mean that,” You denied shaking your head, a single tear running down your cheek. 
“But I do,” he grabbed your hand, “I think I’ve always loved you.”
You broke out into a grin while tears still fell, and wrapped your arms around him, burying your head into his chest. “What took you so long?” 
“I’m sorry mon amour, I guess I was just too stupid to actually do anything. But I love you, I love you so much.” His arms wrapped around your waist, kissing the top of your head. 
You pulled back and placed your hands on his face, admiring his mature features. He took his thumbs to wipe off the tears on your face. “I love you too,” You told him and he grinned. “Will you finally kiss me?” 
His lips met yours in a gentle, yet passionate, kiss. As your heart raced and butterflies fluttered in your stomach, you couldn't help but smile as his lips moved against yours. It was your first kiss with the love of your life, a moment that you would never forget.
You had always known deep down that he was the one for you, but you had spent so long convincing yourself that a friendship was all it could ever be. But now, as you felt the warmth of his embrace and the intensity of his kiss, you realized that the love of your life could also be your best friend - the person who knows and understands you better than anyone else in the world. And in that moment, you were grateful for every step that had led you to this perfect moment with him.
Charles had to return to his Formula One season, but the two of you called every day. He made it to shows on your tour when he could, and when you traveled to France to play your home show, he was there for every minute of it. 
The crowd knew that this show was special, and fans had picked up on the new romance between you and Charles. Everyone was loving it, and older fans finally put the pieces together on the connection the two of you had. So for your home show, you played “Birds of a Feather” for everyone as a surprise, with Charles in attendance. The song had only changed meaning slightly, as you sang it with more love towards him than you’ve ever had before. Headlines were soon filled with your name along with his.
As the next year rolled around and January came, the two of you were inseparable at award shows, him proudly by your side for every one of your achievements. His smile lit up the room and his hand always found yours in the sea of people. Even when you won your first Grammy, he was there in all of your acceptance speeches, his eyes sparkling with pride.
As the year went on and you took a break from touring, you joined him on the road during his racing season. The roar of engines and smell of burning rubber filled your senses as you watched him race with skill and determination. The paddock quickly became like a second home to you, with fans flocking to meet the both of you. The Ferrari team welcomed you with open arms, treating you like family. It was a dream come true to be able to share this passion with him, and you couldn't imagine a better way to spend your time off.
Charles never dulled your shine; in fact, he basked in its radiance. He was not intimidated by your fame, but rather, he reveled in it. As you both shared stories about past relationships, Charles' understanding became apparent. He may have been known for different reasons, but he knew the highs and lows that came with celebrity status. Together, you formed an unbreakable bond of understanding and support. Life had become akin to heaven with Charles by your side, a constant source of love and grounding amidst the chaos of fame.
Together, you moved into a luxurious apartment in the heart of Monaco. The spacious living room had been transformed into your personal music studio, with instruments and recording equipment scattered about in organized chaos. The walls were adorned with posters from your past tours and handwritten lyrics. Charles stood by the window, looking out at the stunning view of the city below, while you strummed your guitar on the plush couch. The sense of security and stability he brought to your life was palpable - his presence assuring you that he would always be there, no matter where your music took you. As you played him your latest compositions, his fingers effortlessly danced across the keys of the piano, adding depth and richness to the melodies. Together, you created magic in that space - harmonizing not just in music but also in life.
As you laid in bed one night, your head rested on the pillow turned towards him, you caught him staring at you. You grinned, “What?” 
“Nothing, I’ve just never seen someone more beautiful before in my life.” He told you in a low voice, smirking at you. You rolled your eyes playfully, knowing you should’ve expected him to shower you with compliments. 
You placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, “Je t’aime chéri.” 
You both settled into bed, cuddled up next to each other. He kissed your temple, “Je t’aimerai toujours plus.”     
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376 notes · View notes
vrystalius · 14 days
Note
Upper moons vs
Human nature of petting everything and or copying noises
Imagine them watching their human stop to pet an animal based demon (like a demon cat) and copying their meows and noises
(The demon can’t do shit bc they’re there. Muzan silently glaring, Douma claiming the demon is a personal pet now, kokushibo doesn’t need to even be there, his scent is STRONK, Akaza silently chuckling.)
The Upper moons + Muzan’s reaction to you snuggling with a cat-demon
The Upper Moons + Muzan reacting to you being all cutesy with a cat-demon.
Pairing: Muzan, Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza x reader
Note: I imagined this cat-demon to be extremly disgusting and deformed. Some kind of weird horror creature XD I’m thinking about writing a fic about the hashira/upper moons get cursed and get cat ears of some kind. Also, this was fairly rushed. So sorry! <3
Muzan Kibutsuji
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Muzan was experimenting with his blood and demon transformations, and what kind of different types of demons he can create. Just recently he made a cat-like demon. The behaviour of the creature was similar to that of a street cat. It had claws, patches of fur, cat-like ears and a short tail. It was even able to meow and purr, he noted. That thing is useless and hideous. Better to dispose of it before it causes any disturbances and annoyances.
He caught you snuggling up with this hideous demon while he was away to pick up his brand new suit. Muzan was not fond of the creature purring and laying its head on your lap while you were trying to teach it how to meow properly. Even glancing at the disgusting creature was enough to make Muzan feel a strange mix of disgust, disappointment and jealousy. Is he neglecting you to the point of you being willing to let this… thing… cuddle onto you? Also, why is this demon even daring to come this close to you?
Needless to say, disposing this waste of his blood was much sooner done than originally planned.
“Do not ever come too close to my experiments again unless either I am present or I allow you to.”
Kokushibo
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Kokushibo always made sure to leave his scent on you at all times. Sometimes he’d give you one of his yukatas to wear or he might leave his scent by kissing your neck, marking your skin with hickeys.
This was a way to protect you from other demons approaching you and warning them of who is your protector whenever Kokushibo himself is not present.
Therefore, this cat-demon did not approach you. It smelled Upper Moon 1’s scent around you from across the halls of the infinity castle arc.
You never got to meet him.
Douma
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He’s not fond of you interacting with other demons, especially the ones below Douma. What if they get too comfortable around you, hm? What then? He’d have to kill and eat them! He would never allow that!
This cat-demon was send to Douma by Lord Muzan to send out and search for the blue spider lily. He noticed pretty quickly how fond you became of this creature. You’re petting its fur, scratching behind the ears and even tried to imitate the meows its throwing at you.
Douma has a weird feeling in his stomach when watching you two. On one hand, you seem pretty happy with this weird pet cat demon. On the other hand, Douma could get you a regular kitty! That way, he doesn’t have to share you! Or if you want, Douma can meow for you. He just doesn’t really want you to be around this cat demon anymore! (Is he feeling jealous? He couldn’t possibly!)
“Dear lotus, how about you pet me instead, hmm? I can even meow for you if you like!”
Akaza
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Who the hell is this damn demon? Why did this cat creature think it can just snuggle up onto you and act like you’re not already taken, huh? Can’t that thing notice Akaza’s smell on you? Oh it’s fucking infuriating him. He’s trying very hard to not slam the head of this freak against the floor until it dies and returns to the hellhole it came out of. The audacity to snuggle up on your lap and to act all innocent and stupid. Perhaps that demon creature is too stupid to realise that it’s utterly disgusting.
Yet, you welcomed it and scratched the fuzzy head of this demon, copying its odd meowing.
“Baby. Let it go.”
💠
My brain is getting fried right now by school work, so I might neglect asks for a little while to concentrate on my own works. I sometimes can’t fully concentrate or come up with good things for asks, so so sorry! I’ll work on them on the weekend and days where I feel more energised! <3
Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!
Take care of yourselves <3
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shdysders · 6 months
Text
last kiss
pairing: tara carpenter & female reader
summary: in which you and tara truly had your last kiss.
word count: 1.5k
author’s note: this song is fully based on last kiss by taylor swift. also sorry for bad update and shit writing, i’m currently not feeling motivated for it.
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"I love you."
Those were the three words you had whispered into Tara's ear, with your soothing and mellifluous voice.
It had been late. 1:38 to be exact. You couldn't fall asleep, although you thought Tara was. Whispering in her ear and kissing her cheek, being completely unaware of the fact that she hadn't yet to doze off either.
She had tried her hardest not to let the huge smile spread across her face. You had whispered the words for just the two of you to know.
Later that night, Tara had opened her eyes, feeling the need to see your features once again before drifting off. You'd looked so tranquil, peaceful. Your face lit through the darkness like a radiant moon, casting a gentle glow all around.
You told Tara you loved her.
So why did you leave? Go away?
It was not until now Tara remembered the time when you had reunited with her after sixteen long weeks apart. The sixteen weeks of Tara's school semester, who had felt like an eternity.
She recalled the smell of the rain, the sound of the drops hitting the hood of her rain jacket, and the fresh downpour on the pavement.
You had stayed up the entire night, just to get to the airport just in time so Tara wouldn't have to wait when she landed. July ninth.
Tara had ran of the plane just to see you, sprinted towards you the second she saw your sneakers on the concrete floor of the arrival hall. She jumped onto you, embraced you in a bone crushing strength you didn't know she had.
She remembered the smell of your floral scented perfume in her nostrils, and the way she felt your heart jumping through the material of your hoodie. She could still feel your arms around her sometimes.
Now she didn't have anyone to sprint towards after she'd gotten off a plane.
The only way she could feel your smell now was when she wore your clothes, the garments that you had left at her house and then forgotten.
Tara put on your clothes almost every day, sitting on the floor of her room, letting the smell of the different fabrics bring her to a happier place; the memories with you.
She thought about how much she missed you all the time. Although she was unsure if you ever thought of her.
Tara felt unsure of everything. She didn't know if the split between the two of you was the cause of it, or if it was all of the betrayals from previous events. But she did know that the only thing she was certain of was that she didn't know how to be someone you missed.
She knew you didn't miss her, but that didn't stop her from trying to figure out how to get you to yearn for her. As much as she did for you.
Was the key to get a new partner? Or post stuff that showed she was happier than ever? What could possibly make you want her again?
Something else Tara thought about constantly, was your last kiss. The last kiss she never thought the two of you would have. She thought you would spent the rest of your life alongside one another.
She had never thought about her relationship with you ending nor taking a drastic turn, but when it did come across her mind one time, she'd never imagined that it would happen like this.
She never planned on kissing Chad.
It wasn't on purpose. Of course it wasn't.
She would never intentionally do something to hurt you. Never.
But she had done it anyway. She had tried to blame it on the alcohol that she had poured into her body minutes before, but she was very aware that wouldn't get her anywhere.
Because the truth was; Tara didn't have a reason behind it, not at all.
She had asked herself the question over and over again; why she had done it, knowing that was the first question you'd ask her when she told you. But she couldn't come up with a proper answer.
Tara had felt out of place for months. She had felt this longing for comfort and validation. She knew that if she talked to you about it and expressed how she felt, you would've erased that feeling. Oh how she wished she had went to you to begin with.
She didn't know why she didn't.
Tara knew she could trust you. She knew she could trust you like a lighthouse guiding her through stormy seas.
Yet her mind told her something was wrong. She was fighting a battle with herself at that point,
the internal battle being between what she knew was right and the temporary relief she sought.
She felt disgusted with herself for sleeping with Chad. They had known each other ever since birth, and she thought that might've ruined their friendship for all eternity, however that wasn't the relationship she was worried about ruining.
The relationship she was worried about destroying was with the person's name she had accidentally moaned out.
Your name.
It was always on her lips.
Even when she tried to enjoy herself with other men, all she could find herself thinking about was you.
You'd forever be the name on her lips, no matter how hard she tried.
As she looked back on your time together, she couldn't help but remember the swing of your step. The way you moved with such grace and confidence. Each stride carried a rhythm that seemed to match the beat of her heart.
You were the life of the party, always showing off, whether it was in beer pong or in dancing, you loved dancing. You would always pull Tara onto the dance floor just so she would join you, and she would roll her eyes for it.
Tara wasn't much for dancing, she'd never liked it and was never going to. But for you, she did dance. She danced like nobody was watching, and she never seemed to regret it, because it always made you beam with a smile.
She'd do anything to watch you smile. She'd do anything to be with you again.
Because she loved the way you greeted Sam with a gentle handshake whenever you joined them for dinner. She loved the way you walked with your hands in your pockets.
How you'd kiss her when she was in the middle of saying something. She'd always end up kissing back, and she never complained, yet she still called it rude interruptions, and there wasn't a day she didn't miss them.
She'd do anything to experience that again.
The only experiences with you she had now, was the ones she tried to relive with your clothes on her body. When she would sit on her floor, pressed into a corner of the four walled room, either sobbing or just thinking about you, and how she didn't know if you ever wasted a thought on her.
She was now watching your life in pictures as regularly as she used to watch you sleep.
You slept over at her house almost every night, and on every occasion Tara would lay in front of you for hours, just admiring your features and relaxed face. She never told you about it, but now she wished she did.
She could feel you starting to forget her, as often as she used to feel you breath. Whenever you embraced her as you slept, she made sure to keep count your breaths and the amount of seconds between them, like they were about to stop if she didn't count.
They never stopped. Luckily. But she stopped hearing them after she'd told you the truth. About what she had done with Chad. She never got to hug you again after that, or count your heartbeats.
Tara tried to keep up with your old mutual friends as often as she could, asking them how you were doing. She always received short answers, politely short answers.
She could tell they wanted nothing to do with her. Same as you wanted nothing to do with her, Chad or even Mindy.
You would occasionally greet Mindy in the corridors, never even bothering to look at Tara or Chad, which was understandable, but that didn't stop the jealousy from flooding through Tara's veins from the sight.
She hoped you were doing well. She hoped it was nice where you were. Wherever you were. Whoever you were with.
She hoped that some day, when the sun would shine and it'd be a beautiful day, that you'd be reminded of something about her, and that'd you wish you had stayed. For whatever reason.
She hoped that at some point, you'd think back to the last kiss you shared, that you would change your mind, and that you'd want to come back to her.
Just so everything could be the way it was. The way she ruined.
459 notes · View notes
ennabear · 7 months
Text
vampire!ellie
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synopsis: you met ellie in your university’s ancient library, you were just trying to study and ellie couldn’t help but talk to you. it drove her crazy, the scent of your blood. usually, she didn’t even notice the scent on others. she was so used to it that it didn’t bother her anymore. but you were different, sweeter.
cw: kinda like a mix between tlou and twilight, mentions of witchcraft and hanging, vampire!abby being a ladykiller literally, papa vampire!joel, mama vampire!tess, newlyweds vampire!jesse and dina, dina’s transformation, lotsssss of backstory like i seriously couldn’t stop myself from yapping. not proofread sorry :((((((
a/n: i’m definitely gonna make a series out of this. sorry if this is wayyy too long but i have a special place in my heart for vamp!ellie and her sweet vampire family. ok that’s all ily thanks for reading.
wc: 2.2k
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you shouldn’t be walking alone at night, really. campus was a sketchy place. a plethora of bad things could happen. you could get kidnapped, jumped, pickpocketed, or, hell, even bitten by a vampire.
the library had the same scent it always did. it smelled like dust and paper. in all honesty, you didn’t prefer it here. although it was beautiful, tall windows lined with stained glass, large bookshelves with every book you’d ever want, every word you could imagine and more, it was just so eerie. something bad was bound to happen here.
anyways, you settled down at the table in the corner. the one farthest away from anyone else. you’d rather be at home right now, studying in bed. it’s only because your roommate invited her stupid boyfriend over that you ended up here. it’s for the better anyway, though, because in bed you wouldn’t get anything done. you’d be too distracted.
you had your priorities written on your palm, the pen now smudged, making it barely readable. writing on your palm was easier, more convenient than a post-it note. but you wrote it down on paper anyways, incase you sweated more of it off before you finished. it wasn’t likely you would, though. the library was freezing, especially in the winter.
the clack of your fingers typing in your laptop password was the only thing to be heard. everyone else was dead silent. this was probably the only thing you liked about the library, everybody agreed on an unspoken rule, make the least amount of noise possible. you got started with completing your essay after shuffling your playlist, determined to finish by the end of the night.
that’s when she saw you.
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or, smelled you? your scent was so strong, it hit ellie hard. her vision went dark and splotchy, and she had to grip onto the table for support. her pearly white hands making a dent in the table with how hard she was holding.
you had to be her next meal. she had to find some way to get you alone and suck your veins dry. it scared her, the thoughts she was having. her intentions weren’t to murder you, but she was starving now. you had unknowingly gotten her high on your scent.
she didn’t even know where you were. were you outside? down the hall? in the library? fuck, right next to her? her head was hurting now, really, really badly. but she needed you even worse.
picking up a random book, she used the most brainpower she could to sniff you out. then, she really saw you. headphones in your ears, your hands typing away at something that won’t even matter soon. soon, she’ll have your body in her arms, hopefully in the comfort of her own home. your neck dripping a puddle on the floor as she relentlessly drank from you, your skin growing cold and your lips turning purple.
her docs made silent footsteps across the floor as she walked toward you. this was something ellie learned to master, silence. especially when she went into hunting mode. nobody looked at her as she expertly dodged the creaks in the old wooden floor. nobody saw her coming. especially you. you never saw ellie williams coming.
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“hey, is it okay if i sit here?”
“….sorry, what was that?” you scrambled to pause your music.
“can i sit here?”
“oh. yeah, sure. go ahead.”
you went back to typing, not continuing your music incase she wanted to talk. you really hoped she didn’t. you needed to finish your essay. and you weren’t much of a people person either.
“what are you writing?” she asked.
“just an essay, nothing interesting.”
“oh, cool.”
she started reading the book she picked up before sniffing you out. she didn’t bother to look at the title. or read any of the words either. really, she was just staring at it, her mind racing. she needed to come up with something interesting, something to make you like her.
while she stared at the words, you couldn’t help but stare at her. your fingers came to a complete stop as you admired this stranger across from you. she didn’t even introduce herself, how strange. her hair was a dark brown, her eyes black. her face was incredibly smooth. skin paler than ever, she looked as if she was a marble statue, like she belonged in a museum.
and she was reading twilight, of all books. although, you liked the book, it seemed ironic for her, like she was too mature for it. this beautiful stranger was sitting across from you, her eyebrows pulled together in frustration while she chewed on the inside of her cheek. she seemed furious at something, but at the same time, hard to read.
you were almost scared of her, but intrigued above all else.
“do you like that book?” you asked.
“twilight? yeah. it’s okay. i’ve read it a few times.”
“hmm. it’s a classic.”
“it’s not bad. but i’ve read a lot of books. this one doesn’t come close to the others.”
“so you read a lot? how come i’ve never seen you before?”
“i’m usually hiding. i don’t prefer to engage with others if i can help it.”
“yeah, that explains it.”
she got lucky. thank god, if there even is one, that she grabbed a book you knew about. that you started a conversation with her. she thought it was the most stupid book on earth. it was filth, pure mormon fanfiction. and it was completely wrong.
“why are you here so late? it’s almost midnight.” you asked.
“i could ask you the same question.” she responded.
“i have a lot of work i’ve been procrastinating on. if i could choose, i’d be at home. but my roommate’s boyfriend is there and i can’t stand being in the same building as them.”
“i don’t really know why i’m here. i just like to meet new people i guess.”
“i thought you didn’t like talking to people.”
“that’s different. you’re different.”
“how so? you don’t know who i am, and i don’t even know your name.”
she stared at you blankly. you had her trapped. she suddenly realized that maybe you were harder to get than she expected. maybe you wanted to play this game.
“i’m ellie. it’s short for elizabeth but i hate that name. it’s too common, i’m sick of hearing it.”
“elizabeth is beautiful.”
“thanks. you sound like my parents.”
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lie. she didn’t know her parents anymore. they had abandoned her hundreds of years ago after suspecting she was a witch because she refused to get married to a man at only seventeen. after a few years, she was hung.
it wasn’t until her new father, joel, took up an investigation of what happened to poor elizabeth. he ended up traveling to their old village and finding her grave after tracing her obituary back to a newspaper published in 1579.
shed been dead for years. joel was the one who brought her back to life. he injected his venom into her long rotten arms and took her in for the seven years it took for her to come back fully. he saved her. he taught her how to walk, how to speak, how to hunt. joel miller was her new father.
joel used to be a police officer. in 1712, he ran into a poor woman, bleeding and begging for his help. claiming that her husband had turned to satan and was now possessed. the woman had been bitten, she eventually would turn into ellie’s mother, tess. joel got bitten too. all three of them spent the next years as newborns in that small cabin, feasting on whoever was unfortunate enough to wander by.
the woman’s husband didn’t survive. he was caught by a clan of christians and burned alive, leaving just joel and tess, who couldn’t help but fall in love. they adopted more kids before and after ellie too.
abigail was the first. she was living alone in the appalachian mountains, feasting on whoever wandered after sundown. leading poor girls, desperate for a good time, into her bed and then eating them whole. abigail often hung out at lesbian bars. the girls who went home with her never came back. a bartender joked with her about this once, the bartender didn’t come back, either.
joel heard about abigail through the only other coven that lived in washington. they said she was a monster, a relentless murderer trapped in a goddesses body. that she could hold the whole world on her shoulders but couldn’t refrain from eating innocent girls who were cheating on their husbands.
abby and ellie were never really good friends, but they tried. abby preferred to keep to herself. usually either reading or climbing a mountain with her bare hands. and she refused to find a long-term lover. ellie was almost the opposite. she preferred more modern things, like making music and fast cars. and she loved to flirt with girls.
jesse came after ellie. he was born more recently, in 1878. he was dying of a disease nobody knew about. they didn’t have the right knowledge or technology to save him, so they quarantined him in a hospital room until he died. he didn’t, though. joel saved his life. the hospital staff were horrified after seeing the blood stained floor, the splatters over the walls, and more importantly, the fact that jesse’s body was nowhere to be found.
jesse had a wife now, named dina. she met him in 1983 at a prestigious fashion school. jesse had already been to tons of colleges. neither of them aged. they never changed. they were all trapped. after studying medicine, law, physics, engineering, and marketing, he wanted a change.
that’s when he met dina. she was a beautiful woman, deep tan skin, dark eyes, long black hair and eyelashes. and she had such a knack for fashion. jesse was in love, it took him a long while before he came clean to dina about who he was. she was so in love with him too, she didn’t mind it, and she certainly wasn’t scared. dina was never scared of anything.
so they got married. and the night after their wedding, they flew to a private island joel owned for their “honeymoon”. aka, dina’s transformation. they were gone for almost three years. jesse kept a journal of everything that happened to her.
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july 12, 1989. i did it. i held her so gently in my arms and sank my teeth into her neck. she was screaming, i know she was in pain, but she’ll never admit it. before she fell asleep, i drank a few of her tears and then closed her eyes. she’ll be twenty six for the rest of her life, until the earth stops spinning. i hope she can forgive me.
december 31, 1989. joel, i got your letter. she’s been doing okay. i can’t stop looking at her, her perfect curves and her deep brown hair. i think it was for the better that i took her dress off before we started, she designed it, it was so beautiful. i know she’d get upset about the red staining the expensive white satin. it’s still here, waiting for her. the year is about to end, we still have quite a few months until she awakes. i’m scared. not of her, of myself. am i a murderer? did i, a cold-blooded demon, destroy a perfect, innocent life? will she remember me?
august 27, 1990. it’s been over a year. nothing, but i know it’s coming. i’ve been holding her head on my lap, stroking her hair. i haven’t moved from this position in three months. she is so beautiful. i redressed her in the outfit she designed for this occasion, it suits her well. a part of me regrets this decision. i wish i could grow old with her, maybe have kids someday. sit on the porch while or grandchildren play in the yard. her eyes wrinkling with the smile she always flashes me. this will never happen. it’s just a dream.
november 16, 1990. she is awake. so much screaming. she’s in pain. won’t even look at me. she is thirsty. will bring her some bird blood to quench her thirst.
november 21, 1990. she only sits and stares at a wall, rocking back and forth. her eyes are white now. don’t know if she is okay. or if she will survive. her throat burns. if she goes, i go.
february, 1991. don’t know what day it is, she has calmed down. she didn’t remember anything at first. not me, not her name, nothing. she remembers now, though. hopefully we can come home this year. i still don’t know if i trust her enough around people. if she is caught, she’ll be burned. if she goes, i go.
may 18, 1991. traveled to a near by island. i taught her how to swim, she loves it. she’s so surprised that she can hold her breath infinitely. she is so beautiful, it’s like falling in love with her all over again. there were people at the island, it was a small village. they were kind, but we had to leave early. i don’t want to push her limits, but she did exceptionally well.
october 4, 1991. on our way home. starting this life forever with her. i hope she can forgive me.
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beetlejuice-e · 3 months
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DEALER — ELLIE WILLIAMS ͏ 🚸 𖥨᩠ׄ݁🌘
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pairing — toxic! ellie x reader
synopsis — ellie can’t seem to leave you alone reaching out to you months later after no contact
warnings — manipulation,, fed up reader,, micro cheating,, gaslighting,, stupid reader,, mentions of stalking,, crazy ellie. suggestive content.
authors note — @mousymaven requested this awhile ago and i’m just now getting to it hope you enjoy! first time actually writing a whole drabble and not just text posts
word count — 2.3k
lower case intended!
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— ellie did not leave. in fact she would stay at your house all night if she had too. she was going to see you one way or another.
you felt a wave of anger wash over you, why was she doing this after all that time. it had been a little over 3 years since you’ve left ellie to basically rot. you were done with her for good and she knew that.
things didn’t end well between you two, obviously. ellie put up more of a fight than you did but it didn’t work. there wasn’t anymore fight left in you. the woman did more damage than she imagined, she physically and mentally drained you of what you had left.
sure your relationship was great and you loved her dearly but she didn’t. she was never any of those things to you. she was never loving or caring. all she cared about was dealing and getting high. missing out on date nights and anniversaries just to make a couple of dollars she wouldn’t even think about sending on you and when mentioning it to her she’d say “i’ll get you something next time.” whenever next time came around it was the same answer. you were sick of it.
it was the middle of your shift when you got the text from the unknown number who turned out to be ellie and honestly it made you sick to your stomach. you were at the happiest point in your life and she ruined it just like that. you managed to finish all of your work before you went home to kill ellie.
not understanding her motive and why she was doing all of this. you lied about calling the cops just to see if she would go away which she didn’t. still stubborn after so long, she wasn’t happy you moved on. that would be HER and not some other woman.
ellie managed to make her way inside your home, it was different from the last apartment the one you both lived in together. way more security and locks on it. she liked that you were scared of her now. it gave her a sense of power.
nothing changed about the way you lived. every thing had to be cleaned up and organized just the way you wanted. that drove her crazy when the two of you were still together. she couldn’t let go of you. she couldn’t you were everything she needed and deserved in a relationship.
you’d be home any minute and she couldn’t risk being seen first thing when you called in she wanted it to be a surprise. after a few minutes of walking around she found your bedroom which looked pretty cute. it seemed like you got rid of all of the stuff that reminded you of her which made her upset. picking up a few of the items on your dresser like a picture of you and your new girlfriend disgusted her, she still respected you a lot so she didn’t throw it away like she wanted too. she searched through your clothes all of her favorite things she liked on you still in your wardrobe. out of the corner of her eye she saw a bottle of perfume that looked all too familiar and this stopped her in her tracks. dropping the piece of clothing out of her hand she basically flew over to the dresser and picked up the bottle. rose milano her favorite scent on you out of all of the perfumes you own. she could feel herself getting more and more excited about seeing you. spraying on a few spritz of the perfume she set it back in the exact spot so you could suspect anything.
meanwhile…
after some debating with yourself in your head you made the decision to go home, hoping and praying on the way that ellie lied about being at your house. it was about a 20 minute drive to get home and the whole time you were filling up with anxiety. you didn’t know if you could face ellie especially not after all she’s put you through.
you were now on the road to your house and from the looks of it there seemed to be no sign of ellie being there. a sigh of relief escaped from your mouth as you parked your car in the driveway. you took your nice little time to grab your bags out of the car while ellie hide somewhere off into your closet.
it took you awhile to lug all of your bags out of the car and into your house so ellie was getting a bit impatient. before you unlocked the door she managed to make it in the living room so you could see her first thing when you walked in. screw the hiding she wanted to see you right away. turning the key in the door you stepped inside. ellie could feel herself getting more and more excited as you stepped into the doorway.
usually all of the lights in the house are off before you leave so you didn't think anything of it when you say most of the nights on when you stepped inside. out of the corner of your eye you saw a figure sitting on your couch. ellie. letting out a blood curdling scream you tossed what you had in your hands at her, you were sure the entire neighborhood heard you scream that's how loud it was. all ellie did was laugh, she found this funny. the look on your face was priceless, obviously you didn't believe she'd be here and here she was...in your house looking way too hot.
"why are you in my house?" you asked through gritted teeth, this only caused ellie to roll her eyes. why are you acting confused? she said she would be at your house. 'you didn't miss me baby?" she asked pushing the bag to the side and standing up from the couch and making her way over to you. she was now towering over you, feeling her breathe on your face. the smell of mint fresh gum and the only strand of weed she smoke indica.
"no i didn't miss you get out of my house or i'm calling the cops" you spoke to her so harshly it actually hurt her feelings. pushing past her you went off into your roman basically barricaded yourself inside. you couldn’t face her, not now. seeing her made you feel sick.
ellie couldn’t believe this, you were being so dramatic.
she followed after you once you ran away and leaned against the door being able to hear your loud breathing by putting her ear to the door. it made her think of something else.
“baby please open the door i wanna see you.”
“i don’t go away ellie!” you screamed once again. “why the fuck would you show up to my house when i told you not too? do you have horrible comprehension skills or something.”
“i wanted to see you why is that so hard for you understand? just open the door for me please?” she asked softly and this caused you to cave. you hesitated before opening the door to see ellie with a big ass grin on her face.
“don’t make me regret this.” you rolled you eyes and went towards your bedside getting your bags down on the bed.
“you won’t i swear.” ellie shook her head and watched as you walked over to your bed. over the course of 2 years she would tell you were eating your rice and cabbage because my god. it wasn’t her goal to come over and win you over but man was she considering it now. she stayed quiet while you unpacked you things and just watched you.
once she was sure you were finished she sat down on the bed and pulled you down to sit on her lap. “i missed you so much y/n.” she spoke rubbing your upper arm with her thumb. she stared for a good while and it kinda creeped you out. as much as you hated her you couldn’t deny how good she looked.
“i can’t believe you’ve been letting like bitch have what’s mine you should be reallyyyyy ashamed of yourself you know that right?” she asked landing a firm smack on your ass.
“i’m not agreeing with you if that’s what you think.” you spoke getting up from her lap before she forced you back onto it. “ellie can you stop im trying to get in the shower.”
“you can shower later, let’s smoke.” she said gently pushing you off of her lap so she could get up. standing up she went over near your closet and found the blunts she dropped while hiding in your closet. “dropped these while i was hiding oops.”
you stared at her blankly and shook her head. “i don’t like you.” you said heading over to your closet and pushing her out of the way. you found some clothes to change into since you didn’t wanna smoke in your work clothes.
“wanna try this new strand i made?” ellie asked basically ignoring you as she plopped back down onto the bed. fumbling around her carabiner she took the lighter off of it and lit the blunt. taking a hit she watched as you slipped out of your work clothes. it was like you were doing these things on purpose. it was like you didn’t want her to leave.
“do you walk around the house like that when she’s here?” she asked patting her lap so you could sit down on it again. “well it’s my house so yes why?”“don’t.” she spoke blowing the smoke from her mouth. “don’t what?” you asked pulling the bonnet over your hair. “don’t walk around like that when she’s here.” she laughed in her face and sat down on the bed beside her. “you sounds ridiculous…it’s my house ellie i can do what i want, she’s my girlfriend she likes it.”
ellie groaned. she didn’t like that you moved on. “why do you call her that?”ellie groaned. she didn’t like that you moved on. “why do you call her that?” she asked. “my girlfriend? because that’s what she is, i think you need to stop smoking seriously it’s making you dumb.” you said grabbing the blunt away from her and taking a hit for yourself. it was a lot stronger than you remember so you went into a coughing fit.
it’s not like she’s going to be for long.” this made you get yourself together because what did she mean by that. “what do you mean by that?” you asked leaning over to grab your phone from the dresser. “she’s not gonna be your girlfriend for long because i’m here obviously. you don’t really live here you’re just using her to heal from me duhhh.” you shook your head at this statement because it was far from the truth. you were over ellie. you’ve been over ellie for awhile now and you were sure she was just saying this to get in your head which was working.
“everything you say is bullshit did you know that?” ellie smacked her teeth. “it’s not bullshit if you know it’s true. you don’t love her, you’ll always run back to me and you know that so why not just leave her?”“why would i leave her? she’s not like you ellie she actually treats me right” you sighed and took another hit from the blunt. you knew ellie was right but would never admit that she would take that and try to use it against you anytime she could. “i treated you good, that’s a damn lie.” you rolled your eyes at this because that was a lie and she knew that. “right…”
“look i didn’t come over here to talk to you about that. now can you come here why are you all the way over there? are you scared of me or something?” she asked inching closer and closer to you. you didn’t know if it was the weed but she really made you feel some time of way. she was addicting.
“why would i be scared of you ellie? you aren’t that threatening..” you shook your head and moved away from her just to see how she’d react. she huffed and gripped onto your thigh pulling you closer to her. grabbing the blunt from your hand she put it out and set it on the dresser. now hovering over you she leaned down so she was now in your face.
“ok so what’s up the i don’t care attitude then?” she asked. now breathing on your face. you knew not to look at her because you’d fold. grabbing your face she made you look at her. “i asked you a question answer it.”
“maybe i just don’t care, have you thought about that?” you asked staring up at her. “can you not be a smart ass right now?” she rolled her eyes and rubbed on your cheeks. “you look so cute like this.”
groaning you pushed her off of you. she was being ridiculous and she knew that. “dude get out of my house you’re annoying.” she laughed at this because she knew you liked it just but the way you were looking at her. “don’t be like that. i’m sorry i swear.” she said still laughing at you. she hovered over you once again and placed soft kisses on your lips, she stopped after the 7th kiss and looked down at you. “see im sorry do you forgive me?”
you had to shake your head to pretend like that didn’t happen. you had a girlfriend you loved dearly but ellie kissing you made you miss this. you missed the feeling you had when you were with her. your girlfriend didn’t give you the feeling ellie did. the adrenaline. the guilt. it was wrong. you knew that but you always. always. found your way back to ellie.
sighing you sat up and ran your hands down your face. “yes i forgive you, ellie” you smiled and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
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tags — @beforeimdeceased @abbysvictim
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sarahscribbles · 10 months
Text
𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞
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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢'𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐓𝐕𝐀!𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐.𝟗𝐤
𝐀𝐍: 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬, 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲.
𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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You hear the sharp sound of Loki’s footsteps on the atrium floor roughly twenty minutes after slipping the note undetected into his coat pocket. 
“You’re too chicken to fuck me in public,” you had scrawled across the yellow TVA issued notepaper, feeling a heat begin to form between your thighs with each stroke of your pen. 
Was he too chicken, though? You aren’t sure what you and Loki are exactly, but heaven help you you’re enjoying the secret trysts in broom cupboards and bathrooms. It’s what spawned the idea to write him the note - the fact that all your hook ups have been in secret away from prying eyes. 
It was meant to do nothing but tease him, to poke the proverbial bear, but with how quickly and forcefully his footsteps are approaching from behind, you fear you may have flown too close to the sun.
Your heart begins to thump wildly in your chest with each step he takes, and you lose track of what the analysts huddled around you are discussing. Vaguely, you catch snippets of their concern over yet another variant causing havoc on the Sacred Timeline, but their voices fade to a faint drone when the familiar scent of cinnamon and patchouli wraps around you. 
Each quiet inhale of his scent sends an addictive giddiness zipping through your veins. You imagine him slipping his hands in his pockets and feeling the sharp edges of the note - had he just stepped through the Time Door on another assignment with Mobius? Or had he only found it while they were already in the field? How long has he been stewing over that single, teasing sentence and assembling, to him, a suitable consequence?
It has you fighting not to squeeze your thighs together where you stand.
“Terribly sorry!” That familiar, smooth voice rolls over you only seconds later, and you feel two firm hands grip your shoulders. “I’m afraid I have a very pressing issue that requires one of the best minds in the TVA! I’ll have her back in a jiffy!”
Before you can even draw breath to object Loki’s fingers are curling possessively around your upper arm. His pace is frantic as he steers you through Chrono Bay Three, so much so that it really does look like the future of the TVA rests on your shoulders. 
You know different, though. 
You know that, beside you, is a man with enough pent up sexual energy to power a small town. 
It’s exhilarating to see what you do to him. From your place at his side, you can see the tense way he’s holding that strong jaw; you can see how his free hand is curled into a half fist, and you can feel the flex of his fingers through the material of your shirt like he’s itching to get his hands on your bare skin. 
Again. 
“So, what’s this pressing issue that requires my brilliant mind?” you tease him as he continues to pull you through the deserted atrium. “Are the threads of time disintegrating as we speak? Has Miss Minutes gone rogue?” 
You swear that the corner of his mouth quirks, just a little bit, and, for a second, all you want to do is make him laugh. 
Loki’s pace doesn’t falter even for a second as he keeps weaving you both through the intricate halls of the TVA, but he turns briefly to flash you that devilish grin. “Do you really wish to do this, darling? After that little stunt you just pulled?”
Something lurches to life in your stomach, but you forcibly will it down. This is all just a little bit of fun, really. A little bit of excitement in the otherwise boring days of being an analyst. What better way to liven things up than with this man with those beautiful green eyes and the…
No.
Not this time. 
You’re, ironically, saved from any further traitorous thoughts by the very subject of them. Loki comes to an almost comical stop beside that ridiculous “minimise chat in the cafeteria please” sign that’s become a favoured inside joke between you and Mobius, in large part due to the weary sigh it garners from Loki. He throws a casual glance at the handful of other agents milling around - none of whom seem remotely interested in either of you - and yanks you through a door with a sign that reads “Authorised Personnel Only.”
Although the corridor he’s pulled you into looks just like every other corridor in the labyrinth of the TVA, you recognise this as one you’re not overly familiar with. Does this one lead to Repairs and Advancement? Or is this the shorter route to the Automat? You aren’t sure. 
What you are sure of is that it isn’t very wide. 
You turn to face Loki as the door snaps shut. Even under the harsh yellow lights running overhead, he still manages to look every inch the handsome god that he is. It’s both infuriating and exhilarating. 
“A stunt?” you whisper with feigned disbelief. “Who would dare to try the God of Mischief?”
Loki takes two steps to the side so he’s standing directly in front of you at what counts as the “other side” of the corridor. One hand is deep in his trouser pocket while the other rises from his side. Between two elegant fingers sits your little note. “Care to explain?”
An impish smile curls across your face in tandem with your heart beginning to thump wildly in your chest. “Oh, that! I meant to slip that to the new Minuteman this morning. You know, the tall one with the blonde hair? Whoops.”
The god in front of you doesn’t smile. Instead, he inhales slowly, deeply, and locks those hypnotising green eyes with yours. “I thought we had addressed this little issue last week? Do I need to put you over my knee again?”
You swallow silently and make a valent effort to ignore the heat that’s rising to a crescendo between your thighs. The last time Loki had held you over his knee you hadn’t been able to sit comfortably for three days. It hadn’t been the first time and you pray it won’t be the last. 
“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Your Highness.” You smirk at him, knowing how much he loves this.
The quirk of his lip is barely perceptible, blink and you would have missed it. He takes two silent steps forward, closing the remaining distance until he’s looming over you. He’s so deliciously close that you could easily get drunk on the scent of him and on the mix of mischief, desire and lust that’s swirling in those pretty green eyes. 
A lavender haze of raw arousal has settled around you like a blanket, twisting tighter and tighter with each second Loki stays silent. His lips are quirked in a half smirk that makes you desperate to know what’s going on in that devilish mind of his, to know what concoction of pleasure and pain he’s cooked up to make you pay for your brattiness. 
It’s foolish, though, to think you’ll ever be able to guess his next move. 
You become overly aware of the wall at your back when he reaches out a thumb and forefinger to grip your chin. It’s a soft touch, but there’s no denying the jolt of electricity that rushes through every vein and pore. 
Because that’s what Loki is; he’s electrifying. 
“On your knees, Agent. Now.” His voice rolls over you low and smooth, but there’s a clear undertone of dominance flowing beneath each word. 
A thrill of excitement shoots along your spine, but it leaves something else in its wake. Something that feels oddly like nerves. 
“Here?” you question him, turning panicked eyes to the rows of doors lining both sides of the corridors. “But…Loki, there are people here!”
Loki answers you with a raising of his brow. “Oh, I do beg your pardon. Perhaps you’re too chicken to be fucked in public?” He throws your own taunt back at you. 
Something in you bristles and you curse your nervous outburst. He has quite enough to hold over your head. “You wish. I do this all the time,” you lie. 
His face is impossible to read. “Then why am I waiting? On your knees.” 
He expects you to obey and the threat of what will happen if you don’t hangs heavily in the air. Normally, you’d want to keep pushing his buttons to see just how far you could push him, your ass be damned, but you’re so completely under his spell that you fall to your knees after only half a second of defiance. 
A satisfied smirk curls across Loki’s face. “There. See how much easier it is when you obey, sweet girl?” he purrs, using those sinfully long fingers to tuck some hair behind your ears. 
“Don’t get used to it,” you shoot back before you can help yourself. 
Loki’s answering laughter is short but genuine. “I wouldn’t be so foolish.” 
His hand curling around your skull is a sign that the talking is over. He holds you there firmly in place while his other hand works at the belt and zipper of his trousers. In several seamless movements, he frees himself from the black boxers he’s wearing underneath, and you feel the slightest pressure on the back of your head as he pushes it forward.
“Open,” Loki orders, curling a hand around his cock and guiding it to your lips. 
They part obediently and he wastes no time in feeding you his cock inch by inch. It’s becoming familiar to you now - the taste of him on your tongue and the musky scent that quickly wraps around you - and yoi’ve done this enough times before to know how much he loves when you run the tip of your tongue along the underside of his cock. 
As expected, you’re rewarded with a soft moan and the feel of his fingers flexing in your hair. It only serves to embolden you. 
Loki’s eyes drift closed as he savours the warm wetness of your mouth around him, and you take the opportunity to take as much of him as you can into your mouth, refusing to stop until the tip of his cock slips down your throat. With teary eyes you hold it as long as you can until you feel your throat start to convulse with the need for air. Only then do you pull back off him until just the tip rests between your lips. 
“Fuck! You divine creature!” Loki rasps out, curling his hand even tighter in your hair. “Keep going! That’s my good girl.” 
You eagerly obey. 
Ignoring the ache that’s beginning in your knees and the quiet hum of voices from behind several of the doors, you focus your attention solely on getting this man off. You do everything that you know he loves - you swirl your tongue hungrily around his tip and lick the aching length of him until his hand flies out to slam into the wall with a groan. 
“Faster !” he grunts, and when you peer up at him, you see him slowly coming apart piece by piece. 
That beautiful face is contorted in pleasure and several black curls have fallen haphardly around his shoulders. He’s panting and moaning like a whore, causing your eyes to dart frantically back and forth between him and the doors behind.
But it’s no longer fear that’s pumping through your blood. It’s raw, hot arousal. 
Loki won’t last much longer, but just when you begin to drive him towards release, he pulls his cock free from between your lips.  “Enough,” he says huskily. “On your feet.” 
Shakily, and with Loki’s help, you climb to your feet, but you barely have a second to appreciate the relief before his lips crash against yours. His kiss is hungry and dominating and, at the same time his tongue slips into your mouth, a hand is pulling your leg around his waist and pushing the brown material of your skirt around your hips.
“Tell me you were wrong,” he pants, hot and heavy against your lips. “Say it.”
“I…I was wrong,” you say as his skilled hands make short work of your underwear. 
“Yes. You were,” Loki taunts, “and I’m going to show you just how wrong right here in this corridor.”
One long finger begins to circle your clit at the same time the blunt head of his cock presses against your soaked cunt. You’re aching for him - you have been since the last time he had pulled you into Time Theatre Four - but Loki only slides his cock through your wetness.
“Fucking hell!” you whimper, reaching out to grab his shoulder through the thick material of his pea coat. “Loki, enough. Just fuck me, please!” 
You see a flash of white teeth before he rolls his hips, sinking his cock into you in one smooth thrust. It’s been so long since he’s filled you that a shameless moan slips from your lips before you can stop it and echoes down the empty hallway. 
You snap your mouth closed and look to Loki with panicked eyes, but he only gives you that infuriating smirk. “I hope you can be sufficiently quiet, little mouse. We’re in quite the compromising situation.”
“Fuck you,” you murmur, but press down on his ass with your foot to coax him into moving. 
Loki chuckles and thrusts into you once more, forcing you to bite your cheek to stop from crying out. “You do have such a way with words.”
His fingers stay at your clit as he thrusts his cock into you over and over. It’s enough to send you dizzy and you grip his shoulders for dear life, but it’s impossible not to let them drift into his curls. They’re soft and silken between your fingers - like they always are - and you’re rewarded with the same deep groan when you twist them around your finger and tug. 
It’s something you accidentally discovered that night Loki had taken you on top of one of the desks in the library - he enjoys having his hair pulled. It’s a small slice of knowledge that you filed away, and it only made you eager to discover what other filth this man got off on. 
Loki, it seems, is just as kinky as you are. 
“How is it…that you feel better…every time?” he pants and slams into you with such force that you can’t swallow your cry of pleasure. 
“Just part of my charm,” you answer on a single breath, though it’s a breath that’s quickly lost to you as Loki increases the pressure on your swollen clit. 
He builds you up expertly, and the tiny ripples of pleasure that begin to ripple in your core are like no other. Whatever this thing is between you and Loki, it’s ruined you for anyone else. 
Each thrust of his cock has the edge crest ever closer, and every pant and groan that escapes his lips has you clenching down harder around him. 
But it’s right when you feel the first swells of your orgasm that the scraping of chairs begins behind a door only a few feet away. 
You look to Loki wildly, but the asshole only waggles his eyebrows at you. “I’d say you have about two minutes to cum, Agent,” he whispers wickedly in your ear. 
You whine and tug him closer, willing your orgasm to wash over you before the door opens. You’re too pent up, too desperate to be left dangling on the edge today.
“One minute,” Loki taunts, though it’s questionable if he’ll last that long.
Maybe it’s from how relentlessly he’s fucking you and the gloriously filthy way he’s grunting in your ear, or maybe it’s due to the exhilarating thought of being caught fucking this god in an open corridor, but your orgasm tears through you only seconds later, drowning you in a pleasure so intense that you bury your face in Loki’s shoulder to stop from crying out. 
It’s white hot and steals the breath from your lungs. You feel it from the very tips of your fingers to the tips of your toes. It’s a neverending tsunami that you would happily drown beneath again and again. 
Loki spills inside you moments later, panting your name and cupping your ass to keep you as close to him as physically possible. It’s a release so blinding that it leaves your ears ringing and your heart hammering in your chest, and you’ve barely come down off your high when your leg falls from Loki’s waist back to the ground. 
The afterglow of release settles around you like a pink cloud. Your chest is heaving as you stand boneless against the wall on shaky legs. It’s beyond you how they’re still supporting you in the wake of a climax so powerful that it’s robbed you of your ability to speak or to form a coherent thought. 
Though you aren’t sure if the feeling of relief is from the explosive orgasm he’s just given you or the fact that you managed to reach it before being caught. 
Your eyes drift lazily to Loki. He’s standing before you infuriatingly proud smirk as he tucks himself away and straightens the brown pea coat that you’ve nearly clawed off his shoulders. It only grows when he reaches out to straighten your skirt down just as a door opens several feet down the corridor. 
He takes a few steps backward to begin melting into the small crowd that emerges from within, but not without sticking his hands in his pockets and giving you a filthy wink. “Until next time, Agent.”
1K notes · View notes
yeyinde · 2 years
Note
‼️imagine riding price while he’s smoking a cigar‼️ that just popped inside my head and now i’m horny
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⇾warnings: unfettered filth, gratuitous smut; gendered!female reader, female anatomy; very slight possessive!Price; very heavy dom!Price; choking?? kinda???
⇾notes: damn, op. me, too. also, has anyone seen bodies bodies bodies? you know that moment when Pete Davidson says I just look like I fuck? that's this. that's Price.
With his head tilted back on the bed, lit cigar dangling from between his teeth, he looks almost attainable in the gloam. Touchable. Like a man you reach out, and have. It's so different from his usual countenance that it jars something inside of you, pricking that soft, sensitive place between your thundering heart and ribs.
Shadows cut under his eyes, his nose, the jut of his lip, illuminated only by the flushed, yellow light of the lamp beside the bed. 
Cot, really. Barely enough space in it to fit a single person, much less two. How he manages to squeeze inside the tiny slip of a mattress makes you question everything you know about physics and spatial mathematics.
Though—
"That's it, mm," he rasps, words slurred and muffled around the cigar in his mouth. His hands are firebrands on your breasts, where they settle hot and firm, rough palm grazing your hard nipples. "Just like that, dove. Take me in—all of it, yeah? Want to feel your cunt around all of me."
—there really isn't any room in your head for complex queries when you're sat on your captain's cock, pussy pulsing around him all the way to the root. 
He knocks all logic from your head with a soft flex of his hips, cockhead nudging something inside of you that has you reeling through samsara. 
You can't stop the whine from spilling out—high-pitched and breathless—when he shifts like that, grinding his fat cock against your gummy walls. 
"C—captain—," you mewl, nails digging into the coarse auburn covering his chest. Your hips gyrate over his groin, seeking more of that delicious stretch, that blistering press of him splitting you apart. 
"Shush, shush," he coos, his hand falling away from your swaying chest to wrap around the body of the cigar. The tip burns red; the heavy scent of sex and tobacco permeate the tense atmosphere between you.
His other hand stays, and slides down until your nipple is caught between his thumb and forefinger. A pinch of his fingers sends a ripple of pleasure-pain shuddering down to your core. You keen at the sting, the bliss.
"Gotta be quiet, love. Want them to come in, and see you like this? Bouncin' on your captain's cock like you're desperate for it? And you are, aren't you? So fuckin' greedy for it."
"Fuck, sir—"
His groan is filthy around the butt of the cigar when your cunt flutters at the notion. The idea of being watched while your aching cunt takes him to the base.
"What a slut you are," he teases, slurred and gruff, words thinning out around a pull of smoke. "Want them to see how pretty you look on top of me, eh?"
He bites down on the end of the cigar, his hand falling away to reach behind you. Your mouth opens—pleas, apologies on your tongue; but it's stifled by a loud whine when the flat of his palm slaps across the meat of your ass. The sharp crack of his hand hitting you sends a gyre of pleasure roiling through your core.
Your belly flutters; molten heat spumes at the sting. It's too much, it hurts, and—
You want more.
"Please—;" the word is choked, bitten off when he slides his hand up, fingers dancing between each knob of your spine. The other tugs on your nipple until your back arches for him.
"Come on, pretty thing." He purrs, eyes lidded and burning. A veil of smoke congeals in the air between you when he breathes out. "Like I'd let anyone see you like this. This—;" his teeth dig into the cigar, hips canting up into your pussy. "—is all mine, love."
You don't know how he expects you to last with his thumb brushing over your nipple, his cock battering the plug of your womb with each fervid grind of your hips. Each soft bounce sends you spiralling closer and closer to the edge, to that white-hot haze of euphoria that splits your head down the centre until all you can feel is the swell of his cock in your cunt; his full, heavy balls slapping against your ass each time you sit fully on him, taking him to the base where he's the thickest, where he throbs like a heartbeat. It's too much, too much—
He hums low in his chest. The noise ripples through your palms, desperately scrambling for purchase on his slick, broad chest. It should have been a warning, but you're too far gone, too blissed from the way his liquid sapphire gaze threatens to flay you alive; the wide arsenic white of his eyes boring into you, watching you fall apart at the seams with each plunge of him inside of your pussy. 
"Fuck—oh, fuck—captain—I'm… I'm gonna cum—"
Heat sears into your throat. Your tremulous words are cut in the middle when his hand slides up, palm pressed flat against your jugular. His thumb strokes your jaw gently, a dizzying contrast to the unyielding, solid grip he has on your neck. His thick, tobacco-stained fingers wrap taut around the delicate, fragile, curve of your throat, nearly spanning the entirety of it. If he wanted to, you think, a touch delirious, hysterical: he might be able to touch his index and thumb at the base of your skull.
Your inhale is shaky; a quivering gasp that edges on instability. You feel yourself being pulled deeper and deeper into those pits that sear into you.
A burning ache throbs inside of your belly; a coil pulling tighter and tighter with each press of your groins, his cock filling you deeper than you'd thought possible, the unruly auburn hair around the base of his cock grazing your clit. Your core tenses. Cunt spasming around him when he squeezes his hand, the air choked from your esophagus. 
"Look at you," he drawls, nearly slurring the words around the end of his cigar. He pulls in another mouthful of smoke, eyes gleaming aquamarine in the dim light. "Such a pretty fuckin' sight you make, don't you, love."
All you can see is liquid blue. A spark of ochre from the end of his cigar. Your vision fades, blurring around the edges. He's not choking you, just holding steady, firm, but it's everything: his voice, his touch, that stupid cigar wrapped around those lips—
"C—captain—"
"Go on, then." He settles back into the pillow, hand still wrapped around your throat. His eyes bore into yours; a whirlpool cuts through the sea—dark and dizzying. "I want this pretty little cunt to cum around my cock, mm." He rumbles. His hand flexes, shifts, until his thumb is pressed to the seam of your lips. His eyes darken. "And then when you're finished, I want you on your hands and knees. I'm gonna fill you up, nice and proper, yeah?"
All you can do is whimper his name, and try not to slip inside those frothing waters that threaten to drag you under. A swirling vortex of want; pleasure. You burn under his heavy gaze. Feel the heat of his cigar scorching your skin. 
“Oh,” he adds, blowing out a plume of white against your skin when you shudder on top of him, nails biting into his skin. Smoke rings curl around his words. His voice is hushed. Quiet. The lilt an unbreakable command. “Better not make me drop my cigar, love. Or there will be trouble.”
3K notes · View notes
eevees-hobbies · 3 months
Text
This One's for the Dads!
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Authors Note: This was originally going to be a spicy one-shot with Satoru Gojo, but then it turned into something else.
Synopsis: Father’s Day is among us and it impacts Gojo, Geto, Toji and Sukuna (yes, even him) differently. 
Content Warning: There is some smut below. None in Toji’s and it’s kind of angsty. Female ReaderXCharacter, Mentioning of fathers day, breeding kink, implied child abandonment, reference to spitting in someones mouth, playing with nipples, almost getting caught, making out fingering, sex, etc. Minors DO NOT Interact.
Likes, comments and reblogs always appreciated!
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The Dads Who Stepped Up
Satoru Gojo
“Happy Father's Day, Satoru!” You shout while simultaneously setting off a loud party popper. The red party string erupts from the boisterous instrument and floats to the floor onto the accented rug. The love of your life and least funniest person in the world, Satoru Gojo—who had just walked into the door of your shared home—looks at you in surprise. 
Truth be told, it was the end of a particularly long and stressful workday, and he was looking forward to coming home and collapsing into his king-sized bed without further thought of carrying the world's weight on his shoulders. But here he was, being accosted at his own front door—by you. 
“Happy Fathers D-?” His voice trails off as his eyes wander down your frame and settle on your midsection. Your face grows hot as you follow his eyes; instinctively, your hand shoots down to cover your stomach. You scold yourself quietly for not thinking of the implications behind your gesture.
“Yeah, I should have thought this through. Don’t worry, I’m not pregnant.”
“Oh”
You make a mental note of his change of tone. He sounded disappointed, but you can’t imagine why since pregnancy scares have always stressed you both out in the past. 
“Then, why are you wishing me a Happy Father's Day? I’m not exactly a dad.” Gojo closes the door behind him and opens his arms, allowing you to approach him and melt into his embrace. His familiarity calms you, as does the scent of his cologne and the way he rests his chin on your head. For all the things that Gojo is for you—and he is a lot of positive things—he also is a sense of security, comfort, and unconditional love. 
“But you are, Satoru. I know I joke about you having an army of secret kids out there-“ 
“I meaaaaaaan-”
You pinch his bicep playfully, earning a pained chuckle from him. 
“You’re a father figure to Megumi, Yuta, and Yuji, to only name a few. Think about how much you’ve stepped up and mentored them in their darkest moments. I want you to consider where those kids would be without you, Satoru.”
While you’re talking, Gojo lifts his blindfold from his eyes and rests it on his forehead. His usual playful gaze is gone, replaced with something more reflective as he considers your words. It’s almost enough to unnerve you, but you continue in an attempt to convince your partner that today is a day for him, too.
“I know you’re always bragging about being the strongest, to the point where you’re downright annoying, but please accept that you serve in this capacity, too. Look,” you break free from his embrace, walk over to your dining room table, and pick up several envelopes. 
Gojo follows behind you, peering over your shoulder. “What are those?” 
“Signed Father's Day cards from the boys.” You hand them over to Gojo, who then opens the one on the top of the pile, which just so happens to be Megumi’s
Gojo can’t help but smile as he reads it aloud: “Thanks for everything. If I had to choose between being sold off to the Zenin clan and you, I would choose you every time.” 
He looks up at you, his voice soft and devoid of his usual arrogant tone. "That’s the nicest thing he’s ever said to me.”
You smile as he reads through the other cards. Yuta’s is the sweetest and tugs at your heartstrings as he describes a point in which meeting Gojo meant not having to live in fear anymore. 
Yuji’s card makes Satoru chuckle with the use of an inside joke that doesn’t sound too appropriate for a student-teacher relationship, but you don’t press it. 
You watch Gojo, enjoying this moment in which he feels valued, something his thankless job often fails to offer him. 
After Gojo places the cards on the refrigerator via the picture magnets of you two, he turns to you. “Baaaaaabe!” 
There he is, you think as he throws his arms around you and nuzzles his face into your hair, “I’m not gonna’ lie. I kind of wish you were pregnant, though.”
Suddenly, the arrogance is back, his voice absolutely inundated with it, “I like the idea of a little Gojo running around, and you make me sound like a perfect dad.”
You recall your conversation from minutes ago in which he sounded disappointed when you said you weren’t pregnant, “Gojo, we’ve talked about this. When you get horny, you start talking about making a family.”
He whines, “Come ON! It’s Father’s Day! MY day! Humor me.”
You laugh and nod, not entirely sure what you’re consenting to, but he’s right. It is Father's Day, and it was your intention to make him feel like this was a day for him, so what was the harm in playing along? 
Gojo picks you up and places you on the counter, his fingers gripping the edge of your skirt and hiking it up. He’s on you in an instant, attaching himself to you as if you’re his lifeline.
You loop a finger around the hem of his blindfold, removing and flinging it across the room. His white hair falls into his face, adding a breathtaking contrast to his sky-blue eyes. 
“Would it be so bad, Y/N?” 
“W-would what be so bad?” Gojo’s warm mouth is on your neck, leaving a trail of kisses but still somehow managing to speak against your skin.
“Making me a dad,” he pauses. “Letting me make you a mama.” Gojo leans closer to you, allowing you to wrap your arms around his shoulders. You’re situated on the counter, but his proposition makes you feel like you’re falling. And what he says next shakes you to your very being.
“Let me put a baby in you, Y/N.”
You open your mouth, ready to list why you both shouldn’t even be entertaining this conversation—but, to your surprise, you can’t find the words to say no. And perhaps it’s because it’s something you actually want, or maybe it’s because Gojo is now positioning his cock at your entrance, and when that man pulls his dick out, you get a little dumb. Honestly, your only flaw.
You have follow-up questions. You’re unsure if he’s being serious; he often talks like this during sex, a consequence of a man with a breeding kink, but this sounds different. Feels different. So, is he serious? Your second question is, how did he pull his dick out so quickly?
You don’t get much time to ask as he smacks the fat tip of his dick against your sensitive clit; the sound of his meat hitting your already moist cunt echoes through the kitchen. The action sends shockwaves through your body, and you arch your back, pressing yourself further against his body, which almost doesn’t feel humanly possible. 
Gojo smirks, “Mmm, so receptive for me, baby. What if I juuuuust put the tip in, like this?”
He’s a man of his word as he presses the head against the entrance of your tight cunt, watching as it does what it does best and welcomes Gojo’s dick. But he doesn’t push in any further, only allowing you to feel moderately stretched and not as full as you’d like.
“Don’t tease me, Gojo.” You attempt to make your demand sound menacing through gritted teeth, but it comes out more like a whine. Pathetic. 
He wraps a hand around your chin and pulls your face within mere inches of his. “I will if you ask nicely.”
You huff. God, for all the reasons you love this man, he can be fucking exhausting. But your body deceives you; your cunt grasps at the head of his cock, part of you enjoying his little games.
“Please, Saturo, make me a mommy.”
As the last syllable leaves your lips, he pushes forward until his dick is flush against your pussy. The momentum of the push bounces you back, and some of the appliances on the counter tip over. Gojo’s hand shoots over your head to get leverage, resting on the cabinet while the other wraps around your waist. 
“Fuck,” he groans as he slides in and out of you. “I swear to GOD I’m getting you pregnant tonight. You want that? To carry my babies?”
Fantasy or not, you’re into it. You tighten your grip around his neck and moan into his ear, your honeyed voice only making him thrust more aggressively. 
“You’re going to be a great Daddy, baby!”
The arm that was around your waste is now in between you both, his long fingers rubbing your clit, the friction making your inner thighs clench—a telltale sign that you’re getting close.
“You’re going to look so fuckin’ beautiful pregnant. How many are you going to give me? Cuz once we start, I won’t be able to stay off ya.”
You moan in approval; Satoru is a pervert, a menace, but never a liar. You know that if he promises to keep you barefoot and pregnant, he fucking means it. 
“Stick out your tongue for me, baby.”
You happily oblige as his mouth absorbs your tongue, sucking harshly on it. Kissing while fucking is something you both often do, but you and Satoru are just so comically bad at it—taking intermittent pauses, too caught up in the pleasure you’re both feeling to move your lips. But he never allows your tongue to retreat back into your mouth, sucking on it while he continues to pound your core.
You dig your nails into his shoulders, realizing that he never removed his shirt—he was so horny that he only had time to drop his pants down to his ankles and fuck you right there on your kitchen counter. And the thought alone has you grabbing his hair and gushing on his dick.
Gojo lets out a whimper as your cunt spasms, sending him over the edge, and shooting ropes upon ropes into your sex.
You’re both left panting, forehead to forehead.
“Happy Father's Day, Satoru.”
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Suguru Geto
“That’s the last of it,” you say as you dump an endless supply of glitter into a trash bag. The living room was a mess.
For this Father's Day, Mimiko and Nanako begged to be in charge of the activities. You were touched. The girls were obviously happy to hold this responsibility, so you willingly passed the baton to them.  
And you had to admit, you were impressed by the itinerary. They planned a trip to some of Seguro’s favorite places, including a Soba restaurant that typically had an extensive waitlist. Tonight was no exception, but the girls had made reservations months in advance. 
You all concluded the day at home with home movies, cake, and a poster board with bright red glitter proclaiming that Geto was the “World's Best Dad.” 
Hence, the mess.
The girls were now tucked away and asleep in their respective bedrooms. You and Suguru were taking the time to clean up the living room, but a quiet lull had settled between you both. You looked back at him as you tied the trash bag closed. 
Geto is sitting on the couch, a smile on his face that you can’t help but return. He looks perfect like this, you think to yourself. He is wearing black jeans and a loose grey sweatshirt, and his signature hair, which is often tied up, flows freely past his shoulders. 
“Y//N, this is the happiest I’ve ever been, and I owe a lot of this to you. This wouldn’t be a home without you.” He gestures to the room around you both, and you take it all in—it’s not the most luxurious of homes, but it belongs to your family of 4, and it’s brimming with character. 
You can clearly see what he’s referencing—the pencil marks on the walls indicating the measured inventory of the girls over the years, the pile of shoes near the door (the girls have far TOO many, you often say to no one in particular) and the framed family photos of you all on every wall.
Suguru interrupts your thoughts as he pats the vacant seat on the sofa beside him. You accept his invitation, sitting down and draping your legs into his lap. He gently pushes you back so you’re lying underneath him, his dark eyes penetrating your soul.
His voice is soft, and his touch is even softer as he slides a hand up your shirt, your bra removed hours ago, “I couldn’t do this without you. I wouldn’t want to do this without you.”
His deft fingers circle your nipples, making them unbelievably hard and earning a moan from your lips, “Suguru, the girls could hear us!”
“Sounds like you better be quiet then” His head disappears under your shirt, and while you can’t see what he’s doing, you can feel his hot mouth on your nipples, rolling them around his tongue, sucking and teasing the flesh, making the heat between your legs grow exponentially stronger.
You begin to grind against him, trying to rub against any part of him to feel some semblance of relief. He chuckles, slipping a hand into your waistband and past your underwear. He lets out a murmur of approval as his hands dip into your needy sex, immediately stroking the soft-spongy spot deep in your core that drives you crazy.
Geto’s fingers are a godsend as they curve, stroke, and scissor you, adjusting to different motions depending on the sounds you make. His mouth still hasn't left your nipple, his suckles getting more aggressive as you feel his teeth nibbling. 
Suddenly, you both hear a door open from within the hallway and freeze. You hear someone—one of the girls, but you aren’t sure which—pad their way to the bathroom.
You both stay as still as humanly possible, knowing that if you duck down enough, whoever crosses in the hallway won’t be able to see you on the couch. 
Suguru pulls his hands out of your pants, which you assume means that your sexual escapade has concluded until those same fingers, which are covered in your essence, are now pressing against your lips.
He doesn’t give you much of an option as he pushes them into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself on your tongue, swirling his fingers around to mix with your saliva.
The bathroom door opens, and you hear the footsteps back into their room.
“Good job,” Suguru coos, pressing his lips against your stomach and pulling his fingers from your mouth.
“And thank you for an excellent Father's Day, my love.”
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The Dad Who Stepped Out
Toji Fushiguro
“Here’s what you asked for.” Toji enters the kitchen and drops a grocery bag on the table. You glance over your shoulder at your stay-at-home boyfriend, who seems grumpier than usual today.
“Thanks. Hoping to try this Carbonara recipe out.” You rifle through the bag and pull out the ingredients.
Toji lingers in the kitchen—-unusual for him as he never offers to help cook, but you don’t press it, not wanting to catch the strays from whatever has him pissed off.
“I forgot…I forgot what day it is,” he mumbles softly.
Oh, you look over at the calendar on the refrigerator and nod. The date is circled in bright red marker. There’s a note to yourself that reads, “Father's Day!” 
“There were so many brats at the store today with their moms pickin’ out dinners. Barely could find anywhere to park.” 
He’s rubbing the back of his neck as his eyes look anywhere but at yours. You can tell that this is bothering him as Toji wears his stress on his shoulders, which are now hunched in a way that looks far from comfortable.
You learned early in your relationship not to bring up Father’s Day; it’s a sore spot for him. Much of what you know about Toji and his relationship with his son was shared reluctantly as a result of an ultimatum by you: open up or get the fuck out.
You choose your following words carefully. “Do you want to talk about it, or is this you venting?”
Toji sighs and shrugs, “Let’s hear it.”
“I think you should call your kid, Toji. He’s probably thinking about you, too.”
He holds his hand up, signaling that he doesn’t want to hear anything else about the topic, and exits to the bedroom. You glance sadly at your ingredients and conclude that dinner is going to have to wait as you follow Toji.
He’s lying on your bed almost as if asleep, but the scowl on his face and the way he’s biting his bottom lip gives him away.
You sit on the edge of the bed, “what do you need right now?”
“Honestly?”
“Yeah, but within reason, Toji. Because it seems like you don’t want to do what makes the most sense which is to pick up the fucking phone and call your son, so yeah, what do you need that I can give you right now?”
Toji’s face goes slack, and he opens one of his eyes. “Just sit here with me, yeah?”
You nod and crawl beside him, laying your head on his bicep as he wraps his arm around you.
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Dishonorable Mention
Ryomen Sukuna
“Woman! Isn’t there something that you’re forgetting?”
Sukuna taps his foot as he sits at your dining room table. You would think that a modest two-bedroom apartment would humble the king of curses, but it doesn’t.
“What is it now, Sukuna?”
“I was watching the news, and every segment specified that it’s Father's Day?”
You nod, not entirely sure where he’s going with this.
“Well? Where’s my gift? My words of adoration? Your mouth on one of my cocks?”
You blink slowly, “Sukuna, Father's Day is for those with children. Are you telling me that you have-?”
‘He waves his dismissively at you, “Don’t be absurd, woman. You know how I feel about those disgusting creatures.”
“Then?”
Suluna’s patience with you is running thin. You sometimes like to play games with him to get a rise out of him. He’ll remember to spit in your mouth when he beds you tonight.
He speaks through gritted teeth, “you call me daddy every chance I have you split open on my dicks. Now wish me a happy fathers day.”
You consider your options here; on the one hand, pissing off Sukuna could be fun; on the other hand, he is right, you do call him daddy in the bedroom, so you relent, “happy fathers day, Sukuna.”
His chest swells in triumph. “Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
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baronessvonglitter · 4 months
Text
Baby Daddy
best friend's husband!Dave York x married and fertile! f!Reader
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Word count: 1.5K
Summary: you and your husband have been trying for a baby, with no success. Then his good friend Dave offers assistance.
(AKA you're on some hormones that make you super horny and Dave pretty much takes advantage of that)
WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, slight D/S tones, forced pregnancy (though reader is already trying for a baby), infidelity (Dave and reader), slight sex pollen, reader is late 30s/early 40s but feel free to use your imagination, unprotected piv sex, pregnancy kink, creampie, use of hormones to get pregnant, some talk of infertility
Author's Note: I wrote this for those of us of a certain age who are not often represented in fanfics but as stated above please do use your imagination, there's no gatekeeping here ❤️ Naturally I wrote this while I was ovulating and suuupppeerr feral. I don't want to have any more kids but if Dave was insistent upon it I might just let him 🫢
DAVE YORK MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST
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You and your husband's Saturday nights are usually spent with Carol and Dave, your friend from high school and your husband's friend from work, respectively. Mostly you have dinner at your house or theirs, followed with wine and a movie after. Tonight's not any different, except Carol looks at you funny when you politely refuse a glass of pinot grigio.
"Might as well tell them, honey," you husband Jim is all smiles as he addresses the table. "We're trying for a baby," he announces proudly.
You smile but it's masking your discomposure. "Honey I thought we were going to wait until I'm actually pregnant to tell everyone," you say under your breath.
Carol's face is illuminated with joy as she reaches over the dinner table to grab your hand. "That is such wonderful news! Isn't that such good news, babe?" she asks Dave.
Dave eyes both you and your husband, and there’s a mysterious little smile that curves across his lips. “That is great news.”
Jim continues, “She’s on trial pharmaceutical hormones right now, so hopefully it’ll work for us and we’ll be parents soon,” he says excitedly. You manage to be more reserved about it, though your heart rate does speed up when you notice Dave’s eyes on you longer than usual.
After dinner you offer to help tidy up while Jim and Carol start the movie. Really it’s just an excuse to be by yourself for a moment, but then Dave joins you, pouring himself a glass of scotch.
“Are you excited about trying for a baby?” he asks so casually.
In the years you’ve known him, he’s never spoken to you about personal things very often. “Yeah, I am,” you smile at him from the sink.
“How long have you and Jim been.. trying?”
It’s possible this is a normal question coming from a curious friend, but there’s always been something about Dave that gives off the impression that he’s anything but.
“Almost a year,” you answer.
“That’s a long time. Do you try pretty frequently?”
You make a sound of surprise, turning to fully face him. “That’s inappropriate.”
He puts his hands up. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He approaches you slowly. “I just meant it must be frustrating, putting in all that hard, fun work only to have your hopes dashed when you see blood the very next month.”
You’re rooted to the spot, knowing you should turn to leave and join the others, but it’s also intriguing, the way he speaks to you. “The new hormones are going to be a tremendous help,” you manage to say.
“Hmm. I bet you’re feeling all kinds of new things with these hormones.. even earlier at dinner I could tell.. you’ve got this unmistakable scent coming off you.. you’re probably ripe for someone to put a baby in you right now.” He towers over you, eyes roving your body in its feminine floral dress before his hands follow suit, gently tracing the outline of your curves. “You’d look so hot pregnant.. your hips getting wider, breasts getting bigger.. and it all starts with this.,” his hand sneaks under your skirt, skims along your inner thigh and finds your heat, evident through your cotton panties. “If your husband isn’t doing the job, why don’t I step in?”
“Dave,” you whisper, “Carol’s my best friend. I can’t..” but it feels too good and damn it he’s right: the hormones have given your libido a big boost. You take his hand and guide his fingers into your slick center. You both gasp quietly as he starts to stroke you with two fingers, then three when he sees you can take it. His lips trace delicately over your neck, just above your pulse point. Jesus, if his fingers fill you up this good, just imagine what he can do with that cock. “Fuck me,” you whisper.
“Are you sure?” His eyes are dark but there’s a kind of mirth there.
“Shut up Dave, just take me home.”
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After making your excuse to Carol and Jim that you’re feeling unwell, Dave “offers” to walk you home, which is how you end up across the street, upstairs in the room you share with your husband. He’s relentless as he kisses you with soft mouth and playful tongue. You fumble together towards the bed, working in tandem to get each other's clothes off as quickly as possible. There's urgency in everything you do, even your breathing is heavy and erratic. Your dress goes over your head; you pull off his shirt and unbuckle his belt. Layers are pulled away until skin meets skin and at last he pulls your panties off, smirking to find them absolutely soaked. You lean over the bed, looking over your shoulder at him.
"Is this how Jim usually likes it?" Dave asks, running his hand admiringly over the curve of your ass.
You blush at the sudden random evaluation of your married sex life. "Well.. yes.."
Dave shakes his head, a little smile forming on his lips as he turns you around and lays you across the bed. "I want to see the look on your face when you cum." With that, he slides into you, relishing your expression as he fills you completely. Your legs wrap around his hips and your arms wrap around his neck, all while your bodies move in perfect harmony. "He doesn't fuck you very often, does he?" Dave whispers in your ear, sending tingles down your spine. "I can tell, the way your pussy is gripping me so tight, like you haven't been fucked in weeks.."
You start a smart comeback but it's impossible to think when he's moving against you like he's fucked you hundreds of times before. Jesus, no wonder Carol's always happy. Her husband's well-endowed and knows how to use it.
The sounds of your combined moans becomes rhythmic, Dave's body strong and powerful yet gentle with you. The bedsprings creak beneath your weight, skin smacks on skin, hands grab everywhere they can, lips meet heated flesh, words of lust become sighs and half-uttered phrases. When you come you clench around him, fingernails digging into his skin as a great wave of pleasure and relief flows through you and you cry out. Dave's eyes are on you, barely registering the slight pain of your nails in his back, feeling how you milk him with your greedy little pussy, and his body tenses against yours, his movements become faster and faster as he fucks you during your orgasm. You barely have time to come down before he starts you up again. You moan "Yes!" over and over, hips meeting every one of his frenzied thrusts. Dave looks smug and self-righteous watching you come for the second time. It's not until you feel him swell and pulse inside you that you panic. "Dave, don't!..." but it's too late. You feel several warm bursts when he presses deep against you. To your shock your body reacts eagerly, milking his cock for every drop he has to give. All this happens with your gaze locked on one another's, and as you pale with the realization of what you've just done, Dave only smirks and pushes forward one more time.
You gasp. "Dave, you weren't supposed to-"
"Quiet now. Lay still and keep your hips elevated. Wouldn't want all my hard work to go to waste." He disengages from you, taking a moment to watch his seed spilling out of you and he gently presses it back in. "Not a drop," he says, and gets up to get dressed.
Still in shock, you do as he says, body still reeling from the aftermath of the intense fucking he's just given you. "Don't.. don't tell Jim about this. Or Carol." A massive wave of guilt washes over you knowing you've been unfaithful to your husband and to your oldest, best friend.
"I won't say a word," Dave promises. "I have no doubt Carol would hate you forever and Jim.. well, Jim would be heartbroken. He's not exactly a fighter," he smirks. "And I'll tell you something else." He sits next to you on the bed, admiring the messy state of your hair, your flushed skin. "Jim's a good guy and a good friend. He deserves better than a wife who betrays him like this."
Anger replaces your trepidation and you push him away. "You're an asshole. Get out!"
He looks amused by all this, rather than shamed or defeated as a normal person would. "I'll be seeing you around, sweetheart. We're friends with each other's spouses. It's inevitable." He leans towards you and brushes his thumb against your cheek. "If this time doesn't take - which I doubt it won't - I'm happy to help out again."
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Twelve weeks later Jim makes the happy announcement that you're expecting, after having tried for so long you've finally received a miracle. You manage to look contented and cheerful as your friends and family gather to celebrate the amazing news. Carol dotes over you, making sure you don't strain yourself for the baby's sake. You meet eyes with Dave, who's across the room watching you, a brazen little smirk on his face. He lifts his brow as if to ask the question you know he wants to ask, and all you can do is give a little nod.
divider by @enchanthings 👑
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xylianasblog · 5 months
Text
Thoughts of you.
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Pairings: Agedup! Rotxo x Fem Human
Summary: Ovulating was bad enough when you couldn't get what you needed, now add in a cute curly-haired Na'vi.
Warnings: MDNI, size difference, begging, fingering, teasing, edging, p in v, let me know if I missed anything else.
꒦꒷❀꒷꒦ ❀✿❀꒦꒷❀꒷꒦MDNI ꒦꒷❀꒷꒦❀✿❀ ꒦꒷❀꒷꒦
Pressing your thighs together in hopes of relieving the ache between your legs for the 10th time in the past 45 minutes seemed to be unhelpful. Your brows furrowed as you stared down at the writing you were trying to finish, the notes were important yet all your mind could think about was being fucked and filled over and over until your body was satisfied.
Ovulation for you was the most irritating thing, especially when there was no one to help scratch that itch you so desperately wanted to get rid of.
You were lost in thought you weren’t aware of the male sneaking up behind you, his curious gaze on your hunched-over form. He couldn’t help but chuckle slightly as he figured out what you were doing.
“Y/n, why are you here alone? It is not safe for a little tawtute like you on the beach.” Rotxo called. You couldn’t help the way you rolled your eyes before closing your body, your attention now on the curly-haired male.
You offered him a slight smile, hating the way your body reacted to the sight of him. Most of your wildest fantasies involved him, more so the way he could easily manhandle your small body any way he wanted. The way you’d imagine his cock filling you up in the best ways, in all the ways your body desperately craved to be filled. You sucked in a breath as you stared at him longer than normal, trying to get control of your mind as you turned back to watch the quiet waves.
The closer he walked the stronger your scent got. Rotxo couldn’t help but sniff the air around you, it was sweeter than usual. And this caused him to frown before his brow bones raised in surprise, he couldn’t help but laugh as he stopped and crouched down before you. You stared at him, watching as he made himself comfortable before you. You held back a small groan as your mind began drifting off once more, thoughts full of watching the way his nose would scrunch up as he threw his head back, his soft groans and moans filling your ears as you bounced as best as you could on his thick cock.
“Y/n?” He called, you blinked a few times to clear your mind, offering him a sheepish smile as you stared into his eyes. “You seem like you are struggling, do you need help with anything?”
You pursed your lips as you stared up at him, looking into his own as you thought over his question. “I’m... okay, I don’t need any help.” You tried to sound confident in your answer but the more you stared the more your mind wondered. “Small tawtute, you seem to be struggling.” He said as he leaned forward burying his face into your neck, brushing his nose against your soft skin. He placed his hand on your thigh, and his calloused hand rubbed soothing circles into your skin. Each movement got higher and higher until his fingers brushed against your drenched panties.
Your body trembled as his fingers continued to tease at your covered cunt, his lips now tracing soft kisses against your neck. The notebook slipped through your fingers as you focused on the bit of pleasure he was providing to your needy body. As if your body was moving on its own your hands were soon tangled into his soft curls, tugging gently as you raised your hips hoping to find more friction to scratch that annoying itch. Rotxo couldn’t help but chuckle against your neck, your soft whimpers and whines wet music to his ears.
Rotxo lifted your body before setting you on his lap as he relaxed back into a comfortable position against the cool rocks. In this new position he has better access to your dripping wet cunt, his fingers moved with ease as he pushed your panties to the side and slipped a finger in. Slowly he finger fucked you, taking his time as he pulled noise after noise from your mouth. He was enjoying himself, especially if the uncomfortable strain of his throbbing cock was any indication of how badly he needed to be buried inside you. He pushed away his need for a moment; focusing on bringing you to the edge of release with his fingers only before fucking into you.
Rotxo added another finger, easing it in little by little as he worked to stretch you out. As the overwhelming pleasure was becoming too much you began rocking your body, wanting to take anything he was willing to give if it got you off.
He worked his fingers in and out of your wet dripping cunt, taking his time, whispering soft words into your ear. Your mind was a jumbled mess of feelings and words, you couldn’t get them out, not with how good his fingers felt. Each stroke of his thick fingers against your sensitive spots had you crying out, your walls clenching around his digits with a desire you didn’t know you possessed. Each time you felt the familiar sensation building up getting ready to explode he would stop forcing long pitiful whines from your lips. Your frustration grew, making your skin crawl with the deepest need to release.
“Please.” Was the first desperate sounds of begging from your lips, soon the words fell without issue. The sound of your needy cries filled his ears. “Please, please, please… I need to cum..*
They danced around in his head as you begged and begged for that sweet release, and he wanted nothing more than to give it to you but only while you were begging on his dick. With a small grunt he pulled his fingers free from your greedy cunt, your whines of protest not falling on deaf ears as he aligned you with the tip of his cock. “Shh Sevin, I will give you what you need.”
꒦꒷❀꒷꒦༻❀✿❀༺꒦꒷❀꒷꒦༻❀✿❀༺ ꒦꒷❀꒷꒦
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