#will talk to y'all once I land

[witheredoffherwitch]

I'm off to India for Diwali and I'm gonna attempt to finish all these asks during my flight. I’ve got some long-forgotten asks buried in my inbox, all because of a certain pesky shadowban 🙄 I will attempt to save my answers in word drafts and send them out once I reconnect. So I'm off the grid until further notice…

....unless I can find some sweet free wifi on board! 👀🤞

EDIT: added gifs for some festive flare 😇

[thewritingpossum]

sometimes people on rate my professors are just wrong

[ghoulphile]

sticky fingers | c.h./the ghoul

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 4.5k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; mildly dubious consent, dirty talk, degradation kink, fingering, squirting, rough sex, size kink, standing doggystyle, overstimulation, teasing, choking, dacryphilia, cooper howard is his own warning (he nasty y'all), canon compliant - takes place around ep 7, a grab bag mix of the show and the games ➥ summary | “Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal.” ➥ notes | i love my men like i love my beef jerky 🫠 i wrote this over 16 fevered hours after finishing the finale. hope you enjoy~ minor edits 4/22/24 | x posted to ao3 | masterlist | feedback is always appreciated ❤️ feel free to send in thots, questions, requests!

It begins, as most things in the Southwest Commonwealth do, with a fight for survival.

City life is tough to be sure, but here on the outskirts of pocket civilizations where there’s nothing but long stretches of desolate wasteland - arid, sunbaked earth and scorched shrubbery - for miles around?

Well, if the ferals, fiends, and super mutants don’t get you in the night, then the desert itself will. During the day the sun burns overhead so nuclear hot, heat glimmers on the horizon in dancing waves.

Unforgiving, relentless as blink-and-you-miss-it mirages are swallowed by ever shifting sands.

It’s easy to get lost.

Even easier to boil alive in your armor if you’re unprepared.

Far too many travelers from the Eastern Commonwealths have met their demise here, where shade is sparse, and water even moreso. The rain - if it does blow in over the mountains - brings rad sickness.

If you’re lucky enough to still be alive, the only reprieve from the heat is in the stooped bones of bombed buildings and ramshackle shacks... where you're just as likely to catch a knife in the back from a chem fried addict as you are relief.

Because here, in the Wastes, danger lurks in sand and shadow alike.

You don’t trek out into the flats half-cocked: a fact all locals know. And if you do decide to? Well, you learn one way or another.

No, only the truly ignorant - or the desperate - dare to tempt man and nature.

Consequently, as you dust off the crumbs from the last half of a Fancy Lads Snack Cake and suck a melted smear of icing from your thumb, you're of the latter half.

You tried holding off for as long as you could. But once the shakes started, you knew you couldn’t put off eating lest you pass out and wake up in a slaver camp.

Well, shit, you think as you rattle a dented canister of purified water. This fucking sucks.

Almost going cross-eyed, your tongue hovers under the rim as you watch the last lazy drop fall free. You catch it with a grimace, smacking your lips. The water tastes metal warm in your sour mouth, barely enough to wet your whistle - let alone your thirst.

You began rationing the last of your supplies days ago, and it’s been a battle against light-headedness ever since. Pretty soon you won’t have the strength to defend yourself, scavving be damned.

Come on. Think - gotta think. What can I scrap for caps?

Not only is Filly more than half a day away, Ma June isn’t one for charity cases. The fact she offered twenty extra caps last time for some burnt books and bent bobby pins was as close as you were ever going to get to a Wasteland miracle.

Sunken cheeks and pleading eyes can only get you so far; everyone’s gotta eat.

"Fuck..." The palms of your hands grind into your eye sockets until you see stars. "FUCK!"

There are two unspoken laws in this otherwise lawless land: steal or starve, live or die. A grim reminder that surrounds you in old bleached bones, empty bullet casings, and scraps of cloth fluttering in the breeze.

Someone always has to be top dog. If you’re lucky, they might be willing to share their spoils.

It’s as you’re considering what pieces of yourself you’re willing to barter that you see them. On the horizon, coming from the west, are two dark blobs.

Stark against the flat plains - a shining beacon of salvation - is a man in a ratty duster and cowboy hat. The saddlebag tossed over his shoulder bounces with his steps while a dog trots beside him, its sable coat rippling with muscle.

Pay dirt.

Making sure to keep low and distant, you stalk them. Watching, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

When the sun dips low, the sky a swath of pale pink and gold, they make camp at a blown-out Drumlin Diner. Off in the distance, thunder rumbles and sickly clouds gather.

Dark and roiling, acid green; a Radstorm brewing.

Electricity cracks at your skin, stands your hair on end. You scrub your hands over your arms, huddling into yourself for warmth. Meanwhile, the stranger seems to luxuriate in the budding promise of rad rain.

He lounges under an awning, his back pressed against a defunct Nuka Cola fridge. He gazes in the direction of the oncoming weather while mindlessly running his fingers through the dog’s fur as it curls up against his legs.

Occasionally, its ears twitch, and its eyes crack open.

Whenever it glances in your direction, you hold your breath and squeeze your eyes shut but it never gives any other indication that it notices your presence.

A small mercy you’re thankful for.

While you’re a pretty good shot, your body is weak with hunger. Besides, you have quick hands and light feet. There’s no doubt you can stealth your way in and out before he realizes his pack is lighter than he left it.

You’ll only take what you need - not interested in causing any more trouble than is necessary. Some food, maybe something to drink if he can spare it, and something to pawn. Just enough supplies to get you sorted in Filly.

Anyway, he certainly isn’t hurting for it by the look of things.

Any guilt you felt was short-lived when he settled down after dropping his pack inside, walking out with an inhaler of Jet in one hand and a can of Cram in the other.

Watched, greedy, as he cracked it open and picked at the tin of meat with lazy fingers. Salivated as he sucked them clean in between deep pulls of chem.

Soon, you decide, licking your lips as he chews, swallows. Soon.

However when push comes to shove, the stranger proves far more keen than you give him credit for.

The world spins like a hit of Daytripper, a kaleidoscope of color as your skull bounces off the wall with a loud crack. Air rushes from your lungs as something huge - hot and heavy - slams into you from behind.

Pins you against the wall with ease as your ears ring.

Something rattles loose; your teeth too large and your tongue too thick. Warm metal floods your mouth as the side of your face throbs in time with the rabbit fast stutter of your heartbeat.

Pain sparks and your stomach rolls.

"Wha's?" you slur, thoughts dripping like wax. "Wh-at's..."

Meanwhile, a gloved hand lassos around your throat like a collar. Brute fingers squeeze the tender flesh of your jugular until you hear your pulse in your ears. Senses struggling - sluggish to adjust in the encroaching night - as tiny cavities eat at your vision, little pockets of darkness.

“Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal," a gruff voice mocks. “Betcha thought you was real slick, huh? Tch. You ask me, you’re dumber than shit, Darlin'.”

Trying to regain your bearings, you shake your head only to groan. “I don’t - ‘m not -” It’s difficult to concentrate, a throbbing tempo taking up residence in your temples. The words come slow. “Wha’d you mean?”

He whistles, long and low-pitched, "D’ya have any idea who you're fucking with?"

“N-No…”

“How’s about I show you, then?”

Warm breath puffs over the shell of your ear, a tongue sliding out to trace along the lobe. You jolt, squirming in discomfort as he crowds closer.

“Tasty lil thing like you, wrapped up all nice and pretty just for me." He chuckles. "Why, it must be Christmas.”

What the hell is he talking about?

It’s hard to breathe with his heavy weight suffocating you; the scent of gunpowder and bitter smoke clogging your nostrils with every labored inhale. His lips - ragged - scrape over the nape of your neck.

The grip on your throat squeezes once, twice; leather sticks to your sweaty skin.

You squint your sore eyes, taking in the faint flickers of firelight that spill through the open doorway. The desert chill of night has settled in, creeping through the busted out windows to dig beneath your padded armor.

Thunder rumbles directly overhead as lightning follows in flashes of acid green. It’s only a matter of time before sheets of rain come pouring down; the air sticky with humidity, trembling with energy.

The Radstorm has finally arrived.

You’ll undoubtedly get sick if you leave the shelter of the diner - might even die from it if you can’t afford or find any RadAway. But as the stranger’s chest digs into your shoulders, and the dog curls up in the corner - uncaring of your plight as its nose tucks into the whip-thin tail - you think you’ll take your chances.

Tilting back to glance at him from over your shoulder through damp eyes, you say, “Look--”

Only his hand moves, viper quick, as it slides from the front of your neck to the nape. Strong fingers clamp down like a vice, like scuffing an unruly dog.

He grinds your face into the wall, rough metal shredding your cheek.

You cry out, a soft, pained little thing that echoes through the empty diner.

“Now why’d you gotta go an' make me do that?”

A phantom glimpse told you all you needed to know; broad jaw, thin lips, a hollow nasal ridge, creeping radiation burns and cracked skin. Ghoul.

“Let’s try this again, Sugar.”

His free hand - sans glove - creeps over the curve of your hip to splay along the swell of your belly, fingers tucking up under the hem of your shirt. You shiver at the stroke of roughened skin.

“Don’t take another peep or I might jus' have ta pluck out those pretty eyes of yours.”

Dread pools low in your gut, a leaden ball.

Everything in you screams: RUN, RUN, RUN.

Alarms blare but you freeze. Stare straight ahead at the featureless wall, eyes wide and unseeing. Through the foggy mire of your thoughts - half formed and shapeless - you have enough presence to understand the precarious nature of your position. 

Heart hammering, you plead for mercy, “Please, I’m - I’m sorry.”

"Aw, ain't that real sweet?" He remains impassive, unmoved. "The little thief does got some manners after all."

Without warning, the sharp toe of his cowboy boot kicks apart your feet. In the ensuing empty space between your thighs, his leg slots into place. Spurs dig into the tender meat of your ankle, little kisses of pain, as his hips rut forward against your ass.

You choke on your spit, pulse jumping in your throat.

"H-Hey, that's..." You attempt to shove at any part of him you can reach to no avail. Built and broad with compact muscle, it's like trying to move a brick wall. "I said I was sorry, okay!"

He ignores you, burying his face into the space behind your ear. A deep inhale sounds next to your head, the expansion of his chest against your back so firm you're not sure you won't fuse together.

The whiskey rough groan he releases does wicked things, makes your mind wander to places it shouldn't. Full of grit and gravel as his cock twitches against your backside, a burning line of heat.

A shiver ricochets down your spine.

He grunts, says, "Mm, you smell good enough ta eat."

The cap of his knee nudges up against your clit with a sudden jolt, shocks of pleasure electrifying your body. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and a sob threatens to scrape its way up from the depths of your throat.

You swallow, mouth desert dry. "Come on, let's just forget all about this, yeah?" you reason. "No harm done. I'll even give you whatever I've got left so - so..."

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, the vibration rattling through your chest. "So?" he prompts, plucking at the waistband of your trousers.

"So let me go?"

"Now why would I go an' do an asinine thing like that?" he replies. "If you think you can buy your freedom, think again, Sweetheart."

Rain pings off the metal roof, the smell of pungent ozone and rusting metal wafting in through busted windows and open doors.

“'Sides,” he pauses to turn your attention outside, “I’d hate ta have you yakin’ before the fun’s even started.”

There’s no way to misconstrue his meaning when he punctuates the statement with a teasing rut of his hips. Those rugged fingers tug open the clasp of your trousers, yank until the material goes slack and pools around your ankles.

“Hey, wait--!”

You jolt, hands scrambling for purchase as he slides his leg against your core. The friction of his pants through your thin cotton underwear makes you ache.

Ripping through your bottom lip, blood beading to the surface, you choke on a high-pitched whimper. "I..."

There's no way he can't feel your reaction.

How quickly you're getting wet as he drags you along the length of his thigh while yanking your hips back into the cradle of his pelvis. You meet him in a slow grind that boils your blood and steals the breath from your lungs.

It’s been - shit - far too long since you’ve felt anything other than hunger, thirst; the animal drive to keep pushing forward.

"You like this, don'tcha?"

You hear the dagger-sharp smile hidden in his words.

He croons, "What would your fellow smoothies think, huh? Here you are lettin’ a ghoul get you all hot n bothered - and you’re lovin’ it. Ain't you?"

You throb in response, heat stealing its way into your cheeks as you turn your head away in shame. His dark chuckle lets you know he felt the squeeze of your thighs, the rock and dip of your hips against his knee.

"I - I don't..." you stutter, struggling for a retort. “I’m not--”

A tremble works its way through your body, crushed as you are between the rad warm burn of his body and the wall. Completely at his mercy as you try to figure out where it all went wrong and what you can do to worm your way out of this one.

Terrified of what'll happen if you stay, terrified of what'll happen if you go; stuck in limbo as what was meant to be a simple grab-and-dash devolved into this confusing cluster of shame and lust.

You loathe the embers of desire kindling to life low in your belly.

"You really outta start bein' more honest, Sweetheart."

A large hand dips beneath the worn band of your underwear, and you wait with baited breath. Helpless as calloused fingertips brush over the swell of your mond.

Your inner thighs are uncomfortably sticky with slick, and your eyes burn in humiliation. Your throat trembles around all the words you want to say.

"Didn't anyone teach you lyin' was bad?" he asks rhetorically as his fingers slip down to play with the swollen bud of your clit, tapping lightly.

You keen, low and wounded.

Short nails dig into your palms as you flex your hands for want of something to grab onto.

“I am being honest,” you bite out through grit teeth. Sweat dapples your furrowed brow. “Just lemme go, please.”

"I find that hard ta believe," he replies. "Sorry to say, but you're shit at lyin'. Just look how hungry your lil cunt is for me."

It’s the only warning you get before those long digits plunge deep inside, two becoming three as they stretch you wide. Hollow you out; knuckles massaging your entrance as the tips prod along the sensitive front wall of your cunt.

You clamp down with a strangled moan. “Shit!”

This is a horrible idea - but it’s been forever and a day since you’ve felt anything other than your own touch.

Whether it be the bone-deep loneliness you’ve been shoving down for months or the sudden, inexplicable need for contact, you long for a reminder that you’re still alive.

That you’re not some wrath of the Wasteland filled with sand and blood, doing whatever it takes to survive in a place that would rather see you fail.

“I - I’m not sure.”

He snorts but offers no council or reassurances, using his free hand to yank at the back of your head in impatience. While it might’ve been a fairer fight if you weren’t in such bad shape, there’s no denying that he’s proven himself to be more adept.

Stronger, quicker.

This is going to happen either way.

And that turns you on - even though you feel like it shouldn’t.

If you give in, if he forces you to give in, it’s not really your fault then, is it? You can enjoy it because you have no choice.

Fuck it, you think, closing your eyes and tilting your head to the side in submission.

Like a doll with cut strings, all the fight drains from your body and you’re left sharing space. The ghoul is a furnace of heat behind you, barely any space to breathe he’s crowded so close.

His cock thickens where it digs into the soft fat of your ass, as large and intimidating as the man himself. “Now stay still for me.”

The or else goes unspoken.

Then he’s stepping away, a rush of cold air filling the empty space at your back.

You shiver, tempted to turn around. Maybe make a run for it. The only thing stopping you is the awareness that his threats aren’t so idle. In your experience, it’s far better to befriend the monster than to anger it.

So you comply, waiting an eternity as your senses strain to pick up on anything other than the murmuring hush of rain, the rumble of thunder, as the Radstorm continues to blow its way through.

Though just when you think he might’ve left, ready to chance moving, you hear the clink of a belt buckle clicking open. The scuff of boots across the linoleum before broad hands shove up under your shirt, scarred palms bare as they settle on your hips.

You tense before forcing yourself to relax.

“You ain’t as stupid as I thought,” he says. “Good girl.”

A test.

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“I can listen,” you mumble, keeping calm as his hands explore the plains of your stomach, pluck at the waistband of your panties. “Promise ‘m not gonna do anything else.”

Learned my lesson the first time. Got my skull cracked open for it.

“That’s what I like ta hear.”

Without warning, your panties are being ripped from you, scraps of fabric fluttering useless to the floor. You squawk in indignation but then a heavy hand settles between your shoulder blades.

He presses down, and you follow without complaint, finding yourself bent in half.

And then the fat head of his cock is right there, teasing at your entrance. He plays with your cunt, slipping the shaft between your wet folds. Dragging up the length of you to tap at your swollen clit.

Jerking in his hold, you whine and try to bear down with all your weight. “Please,” you squirm. “Please, c’mon…”

His grip remains firm, bruising as he exhales next to your ear, a pleased little grumble. “Thatta girl. Now tell me, who’s my pretty lil thief?”

Every hard ridge of his body bites into the softness of yours, your stiff nipples dragging against the rough material of your shirt. Zings of pleasure shoot through you; bursting in your bloodstream, fizzy like warm Nuka Cola.

“I-”

“Go on now, Sweetheart: say it.” Fingers dig into your hips so hard your bones ache. “Or I jus' might be tempted ta take a bite outta your pretty lil backside instead.”

He’s bluffing, you think, half delirious, … Right? He wouldn’t--

You swallow, throat clicking, and squirm against him.

Is that a chance you’re willing to take?

No, no it’s not.

“Y-Yours - I’m - I’m your little thief.”

The unexpected flare of satisfaction in his voice is almost your undoing. A hand pets down your flank, swatting the outside of your thigh playfully.

“Good girl.” He demands, “Say it again.”

Sharp hip bones kick forward against your ass as he lines himself up and starts to bully his way inside.

“I’m - YOURS!”

Your soft, gummy walls flutter, squeeze until giving in with a pop under the hard pressure of the fat head. His cock stretches you out, thick and girthy.

Ridges of scar tissue and patches of rough friction pockmark his shaft, massaging tender places as he fills you up, fucking you open.

He feeds you inch after inch… until he can’t.

“Wait!”

Accommodating his girth is a struggle, your cunt filled to the brim by the time he’s halfway inside. No amount of slick could make him fit, so he makes do with harsh little jerks of his hips. Forces himself deeper and deeper until he glides home nice and smooth, sheathing himself to the base with a sigh of satisfaction.

You clamp down hard with a hiccupy whine, walls furtively trying to push him out. “A-Ah!”

“Goddamn,” he huffs, hands kneading your ass, “You’re a tight fit.”

Tears prick your lash line, your hips shifting as you try to stop him from moving. Begging for a moment of reprieve. You’ve never taken something so big and thick, so textured before.

Coupled with the minimal foreplay, it feels like he’s punched his way through your body. Hollowed you out to make a home for himself.

Pussy aching, a low burning tightness creeps over your lower belly as tender flesh pulses uncomfortably around the unforgiving heft of his cock seated deep inside. You swear you feel him poking your belly button.

“Please,” you pant, heat settling into your cheeks. “J-Just wait a sec-ond! I can’t - oh shit.” 

“Aw, look at you.” Fingers reach around to brush over your cheeks, gather the tears that’ve slipped free. “Didn’t mean ta make you cry,” he lies.

The sound of him sucking his fingers clean reaches your ears. Your stomach swoops, and your clit throbs. Dazed as you wonder what his mouth would feel like on your pussy.

"Hah - too much, you're - fuck - you're too big."

He snickers. “Can’t be helped, I guess.” Body rippling in a shrug, his hands re-settling on your hips. “But that’s all right - I like it better when they cry.”

Before you can retort, he pulls his hips back.

Your toes curl in your boots, feet squeaking across the linoleum floor as your sweaty forehead grinds into the cool metal of the wall. The texture of his shaft burns as it slides through your swollen folds, dragging against sensitive spots you didn’t even know existed.

You can’t tell if it’s the best you’ve ever felt or the worst, but you nearly sob all the same, nerves alight with liquid fire. Want him as deep inside as he can go; a frenzy of desperation that needs him to stuff you so full you choke.

“See for all your whining, you’re takin’ me so well. What did I say about bein' honest?”

You sniffle, blurry eyes creaking open to stare out the window.

Your body throbs in time with your pulse, your pussy so stretched out you can’t clench down when he thrusts in deep. The fat mushroom head teases your cervix, a faint whisper, before he’s drawing back again.

“T-Too fast,” you stutter, head rolling back to rest on his shoulder. Your thighs tremble, knees going soft. “Slow down, slow down.”

“Sh, you can take it. I know you can.”

With a grunt, he surges forward. Wasting no time in starting up a brutal pace that rattles your bones. He drives you hard into the side of the diner; tits crushed and face smashed, a disgusting mixture of tears and drool wetting your cheek.

“Just like that, Sweetheart.”

You do little more than hold on, all thoughts driven from your mind as he fucks you swollen and bruised. Cunt a sticky mess as your slick eases the way, clinging to your inner thighs and dripping down his heavy balls.

Every thrust punches little sounds from you, and he grunts. “Fuck!”

Your hands cling to the sides of his hips, focusing on the shift of muscle beneath heavy fabric. “I can’t,” you slur, eyes cloudy as you glance up into his, gazes meeting for the first time. “Please, I - ah!”

His thrusts turn punishing, even more so than they already were, hips meet your ass with enough force to leave bruises. “What did I say about sneakin' a peek?”

While the words sound threatening, his voice is heated and breathy. For all his talk, he doesn’t look away. In fact, his hips slow into languid rolls, grinding close. When your eyes slide from his, he reaches down to pinch your clit between his fingers.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chides. “You keep those eyes on me.”

Pretty, you think, dazed.

Glinting in the slants of firelight like wet sand or a Nuka Cola bottle in the sun; bourbon warm as they peer at you from beneath a heavy brow bone.

“That’s it, there’s my good girl."

Eyes fluttering when he flexes his hips in reward, the tip massaging along your g-spot, your mouth drops open on a whine.

“O-Oh! Right there, I - fuck, please don’t stop. ‘m so close.” F-Feels s'good.

His bare hand reaches up to curl around your jaw, gnarled fingers pushing their way past the open circle of your swollen lips. They compress your tongue as they gather saliva, stroking along your tastebuds.

Gritty, rough; he tastes of dirt, blood, and gunpowder.

You sneak a kiss to his scarred knuckle when he pulls free.

“Shit, I’ll be damned. You’re just a nasty lil freak, ain't you?”

You moan in response, stretching up on your tip-toes and arching your hips to change the angle. Your palms rest beside your head, docile.

A crazed grin cracks the corners of his lips, his teeth bared like an animal. “I like that,” he husks. “Now be a peach…”

Then those soaked digits are finding their way between your thighs, ghosting over your skin to smear spit onto your abused clit. The tender bud throbs beneath his fingertips, swollen and begging for attention.

He hitches his hips forward to feel you jerk, pulsing beneath his touch as he resumes a fast, jolting pace that has you smacking into the wall.

“And cum for me.”

A deep rumble escapes his throat, the sloppy, wet sounds of him fucking you ringing loud in your ears. Your hips roll, unsure if you want to press forward into the swirl of his fingers or back into the rut of his cock.

Tears stream down your cheeks, your chest heaving with weak sobs.

“Please,” you whine, his shaft pinching your walls uncomfortably. You feel swollen, rubbed raw. “A-Almost there.”

A nip to the ear is all it takes.

“Hhaah, I’m--!”

The liquid heat that’s been pooling low in your belly - building and building - finally bursts in a gush of slick that soaks his hand. Darkens the crotch of his pants as it drips down your thighs to splash against the tile.

You sob, a full body tremor zipping through you like bottled lightening.

In the aftermath, your cunt twitches in time with your heartbeat. Hands numb and head full of cotton as cramps bloom between your hips. Sharp little stabs shoot up behind your navel.

“Shit, I’ve got myself a gusher,” he laughs, a nasty little smirk tugging at his lips. “Look at the mess you made. Now if you ask real sweet-like, maybe I’ll let you clean it up with your tongue.”

You sag, too boneless to be ashamed as electric aftershocks tingle along your nerves. All the while, his pace never falters, quickly fucking you into overstimulation.

Your clit twitches pathetically when the fat head of his cock drags along your g-spot. "No more," you mumble weakly, letting him maneuver your body how he likes. "Please."

“Heh, let’s see if you can do that again.”

You whimper, “Oh, oh, please n-no. I - I can’t. You’ll break me.”

“That’s real cute,” his lips, harsh and rasping, drag over the shell of your ear, “but I wasn’t askin’.”

The grip on your hips tightens to the point of pain, digging in and marking you up.

“Now, why don’ we have some real fun, Darlin'?”

[tellafairy]

thoughts on shifting + manifesting with ease. (as someone who's shifted many times, alongside manifesting)

coming back to this side of tumblr after spending years away from it has made me realized how many do you are truly the problem, it might sound kinda harsh but really. so many of you ask the same questions over and over again.. "but HOW do i do it?" "how do i shift" "how do i manifest" JUST DO IT. stop looking for signs, stop looking for methods or "cheat codes". just do it man.

your mind is so powerful and it actually kinda irritates me how many of you doubt it, just because it "seems to easy". you don't understand how you've been manipulated by society to not see your power. how have you been on loa social media, shifting social media, for soooo long — yet still don't see it?? let me tell you..

the moment i got off social media, the moment i took time to erase everything in my head and stop overthinking everything, was the moment everything came to me. i already had it, i just needed to stop telling myself i didn't.

it took me less than two weeks to get used to convincing myself i had everything i wanted, i shifted to my desired realities, and everything worked out in my favour. AFFIRMING IS ALL YOU NEED. I AM YELLING AT YOU. JUST AFFIRM.

really, please, affirm. the routine is so simple.

1. any bad thought is instantly turned positive.

ex: "i really want her waist"

to

"am i stupid ... i have her waist.. tbh mine even looks a little better.. am i crazy?? like actually? this must be a glitch or something cause my waist is practically identical to hers.. i literally love my waist"

exaggerate, say what you need to say to erase the negativity.

2. it's yours, so act like it..

ex: talk about ur DR normally. it's your reality, not a fantasy land you made up in a dream. ITS REAL. it's a reality. for example, i'd watch videos of my s/o in this reality, and speak about our lives in my dr. "i can't wait to see __ tonight... god i love __, it's so nice hanging out with them everyday.. wow they look so pretty in this video — i'm so lucky their mine". it's natural, they're yours aren't they? exactly, so act like it.. this is used the exact same way when manifesting..

you see someone with something you want? thinking of something you wanna do? something you wanna be? ... it's urs... so can you act like it?? like whyre u feeling sad someone else got a job promotion 😹😹 you literally got a better one ...

3. that's literally it

you don't need a fancy method (although it can give u some peace of mind.. let's be real, a lot of methods set y'all back and make you overwhelmed, blocking ur beliefs and making everything seem harder). you literally just need to live. tell yourself it's done, over and over again. nothing matters. it's done, it's yours, you have it, you're happy and fulfilled. other peoples sucess should really mean nothing to you negatively. it shouldn't make you stressed, shouldn't make you feel behind.. why would it when you have everything, you can do everything, go anywhere, and you can be anything.

it'll seem like manifesting blogs and shifting blogs just repeat the same things.. which is true, they do, because i'm telling you there's nothing more to it than what you've already read. it is that easy. all it takes is your mind. decide, and tell yourself.

as i said before, it took me barely anytime to switch my mindset once i actually started focusing on myself, my journey and not every body else's results. repeating stuff to yourself WORKS. repeating is literally ALL i did. choose what i want, told myself it's mine in any way i could describe it. and there, it's mine. ive shifted to many different realities, along side gaining a better life in this one after years of convincing myself there was nothing for me. if i can break out of the cycle, trust me you can too. i cannot describe how desperate i was at the beginning, how long i took in false info and wasted time on methods all while doubting every single thing.

so why don't you believe it? you'll sit there and tell yourself over and over again that you're ugly, or broke, or friendless... but you won't tell urself that you've shifted? that you have your dream body...? girl okay i guess....

once you realize nothing besides your mind truly matters, is when you'll be free with yourself. circumstances don't matter, past feelings don't matter, doubts don't matter, your mind is all you need.

yes this is just loa explained longer, that's the point of the post because some of u still can't get it in ur heads

[frmisnow]

MERLOT !

summary. nothing scarier then confronting past memories and being vulnerable!

notes. well! tbh i find it rly fascinating what events from their childhood make ppl act the way they do in relationships so i thought it would be intresting to dive into oc a lil further! hope y'all enjoy ˚⋆.✧˚

warnings /includes. ( 1.8 k / angst, fluff) comforting! 'let me take care of u'! ceo! jungkook x non specified! reader, hints at domestic abuse and daddy issues, angst, rly bad ex :/ , comfort!

the plane was once again quiet.

he doesn't drink, doesn't smoke, doesn't talk. you knew this would happen, you change people for the worse, that's what your father used to say. he became violent, blamed it on you and your 'reckless' behavior.

that's what happened to your ex as well; you used to like the innocence he asserted to you. embraced it, bathed in it because you finally felt like you learnt how to earn love. changed yourself for love.

but it was never enough, everything you offered at some point wasn't fulfilling to him. he changed too, not for good.

you don't want to ruin jungkook.

jungkook rarely even looked at you, didn't talk to you either besides business. and you are so scared that you had already worn onto him, that he was beginning to change as well.

not long after the plane landed, you're outside, wandering aimlessly through the city streets. the cold night air bites at your skin, but it doesn’t help to clear your mind.

you want to drown it out, drown him out. and it hurt because that was exactly what prompted you to meet him in the first place, you had wanted to drown your ex out. now the circle repeated itself.

why did life have to be so fucking unfair?

you push open the wooden door, it felt way to heavy, it was just a random bar you spotted while walking.

greeted an older bartender, ordered an whiskey. you happened to take a look at the bottle label: it was one of the ones jungkook had on his display. you were sure that your own life was actively playing a cruel joke on you.

but the pain is stubborn it doesn't go away with just a sip, clinges onto you, harder. you take another sip, bigger, it's another attempt — it was no use.

you want to go back to milan, at exactly 1:37am, walking around with him. but sadly, time doesn't cooperate so you motion for another drink, that's really all that you could do.

"drinking are we?" you hear a voice just as you settle the empty second glass on the table and you freeze momentarly. you don't have to turn around to see who it was, you knew the sharp and disapproving tone.

and suddenly the pain gets replaced with deep disgusting fear. earlier you had thought that you would rather feel anything else then the strong ache but you had been wrong. the misary had been better then this new emotion.

you give him the silence treatment, don't turn around, don't talk. in reality you were way to scared to look back in the first place.

"you're just like your father"

his words shouldn't get to you because deep down you knew he was wrong. you were nothing like the man he compared you to, could never be like him. but it still got to you, it stung.

it reopened wounds that you had worked tightly on wrapping and you frantically try to work on closing them again as he spat out more of his anger. the more he spoke, the more did your vision blurry and it made it impossible to tie them back properly.

he reaches his hand forward to touch your shoulder and you scream, tears coating your face. you think it would be a sight that would push him away, he hated seeing you a true mess, it wasn't the clean version he liked of you. yet he trys again, a smirk on his face.

you burry yourself behind the bartender's counter as the security drags him away, tears continue streaming down your face as you dial jungkooks number.

you don't remember what you tell him, you don't even quite understand yourself through the sobs but you do remember jungkook asking you if you were safe right now, that you should stay right there and that he'd be there in ten.

he makes it in seven.

jungkook holds your hand tightly while he leads you to his car, it was pouring. you wondered how he managed to be so fast without getting into an accident. he doesn't start the engine instead continues holding both of your hands calmly as you cry, doesn't ask any questions either.

he gives you a few more minutes, kisses your palms, tells you to breathe, tells you you're safe. you lean back against the seat, feeling the car’s warmth gradually ease the chill from your bones while he starts driving.

eventually, you make it to his house. you hadn't been able to fully register it back when you were drunk, but it was big, expensive, maybe a bit depressing with it's minimalist structure.

jungkook doesn't pressure you to talk inside too, wraps you in a fluffy blanket, prepares tea with a concentration that was admirable like he was perfecting it just for you as you watch him from your designated spot on the coach.

he sits beside you and brings your legs across his lap, handing you the warm cup full of tea. he watches you carefully as you blow on it gently before taking a tentative sip while he rubs your ankle comfortingly.

you take another sip from the tea, it's something cherry-flavored, burning hot. you rest your head against the familar coach, looking at him. you don't want to talk, don't want to disrupt the peace you felt right now, with the things your ex had done and said.

words full of anger and spite have no space and no use near jungkook, not now, not today.

he brings his hands to cup the back of your neck softly, "i can run you a hot bath, get you some clothes"

you close your eyes momentarly at his touch and your vocie cracks, "i'm sorry" you're sorry that you couldn't get over yourself and tell him what happened, sorry that the words of the man who hurt you so much still have so much effect over you, sorry that you hurted jungkook by ignoring him for the past few days.

jungkook shakes his head, "no, don’t apologize. you don't have to tell me what happened if you're not ready,” he pauses, “but i was really scared. when you called. i just-"

jungkook takes a deep breath. he runs his fingers over your shoulders before speaking again, “i just want you to be happy. just want you to be safe.”

you take a pause because those were beautiful words. but that's the thing with words, somebody says something beautiful, you want to remember but then you slowly start to forget. you wanted jungkook to tell you that everyday, so you'd never.

"i want you to be happy too," i'm just sure you wouldn't be happy with me. is the part you leave out, not wanting to ruin the moment.

his eyes soften as he watches over you, fingers brushing over your features, "i want to take care of you"

after you're finished with your tea, he guides you to the bathroom gently. helps you get out of your clothes, places light kisses on your back, makes sure the water is just warm enough.

he kisses the spot right below your ear while he begins slowly shampooing your hair, “do you want to talk about it now?” he asks quietly.

it's hard to get your tongue to speak but you feel jungkooks reassuring hands, it's the same hand which pull the words out gently. so you tell him about your ex, tell him about how he used to like you, tell him what he said, how he tried to touch you.

tell him about your father. not everything because some memories your brain simply locked for your own safety.

and he listens, doesn't interrupt a single time, kissing your shoulders as you talk about your childhood. "you deserve to be loved," jungkook says, so sincerely, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

the precious words sink into the sea of your heart, calm down the strom, fill you with inner warmth.

"i'm scared," you look down at your hands in the water, "i don't want to become him, i don't want to hurt you."

"you're not him and will never be," he says softly, as if he's stating a simple fact, "you're strong, kind and you care, so much more then anybody would"

there’s no hesitation in his gaze, no flicker of uncertainty — only a steady conviction that makes you want to believe him.

“you’ve been hurt, so much more than anyone should have to bear,” jungkook continues, his hands sliding down to hold yours under the water. “but that doesn’t mean you’re doomed to repeat the past. it doesn’t mean you’re destined to hurt anyone.”

his gaze wanders of to your intertwined hands shortly until he looks back at you, "you have the power to chose differently, to be better. and you already have chosen."

"and you deserve somebody who cares for you, loves you, cherishes you, i want to be that person for you."

you're still scared. the possibilties of you hurting somebody as precious as jungkook were deeply engraved into your mind but you ignore them, nodding slowly to brush them away. to be selfish for once. "i want to be that for you too"

jungkook smiles in response, wiping away the water droplets from your face, “let’s finish up so we can get you into bed, pretty.”

he helps you stand up, envelopes you in a towel, asks you if you can sit down for him so he can dry your hair. tenderly makes sure to not leave out a single wet strand until every bit of water was gone.

all that can be heard was the rain that was now a lot softer then it was a few hours ago, tapping against the window. you can smell jungkooks scent on the clothes he gave you earlier, you could feel his arms around you, the expensive sheets quality below.

he shifts slightly, his lips pressing little kisses over your jawline and cheeks, asking muffled, "what do you want?" as he continues his services, "i'll give you everything"

you think about it for a few seconds, "a kitten"

growing up, you couldn't afford to have a cat in your house due to the violence. there was no way that such a fragile little animal would've been safe in that enviornment. but you had always loved kittys.

he hums as you turn to look at his face, intertwining your hands together, "that's cute, we can name her cheonsa, you know what that means?"

you shake your head lightly, mouthing a 'what?'

"something that reminds me of you, i won't tell you"

the room is filled with comfortable silence for a few minutes while you listen to him breathe, "we should go back to milan, no business" “then we’ll go back to milan,” he whispers against your skin. “and we’ll come back home to a kitten. do you want that?”

🍓 tag list — @chansloverr , @marimarvelfan , @bxcndd , @1-in-abillion , @ahgasegotarmy116 , @copycat-namjesus , @malkaimoon , @geminiml95 , @taiwan0618 , @jungkookfics , @rrosiitas , @stuti2904 , @spiderlilyserendipity , @m00njinnie , @ririkookiemonster , @emptynessclub

[moviestarmartini]

la playa - jude bellingham x reader

" yo te lo hice a ti en la playa / justo al frente de la orilla / ella y yo no somo' nada pero solo entre comilla "

pairing: jude bellingham x latina!reader

summary: situationship!jude asked to spend the summer vacations with you. he's been looking at you with something other than his hungry eyes for some time now.

wc: 2.0k

warnings: really short instagram aus at both the beginning and the end, situationship where they both clearly fell for each other but won't discuss it, pet names in spanish, NSFW, semi-public sex, soft dom!jude if you squint, teasing, p in v, praise, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y'all), creampie, cockwarming, fluff (aka two big goofs in love).

A/N: i haven't written a fic in more than a year but i'm on break from uni and this man has been plaguing my every thought UGHH i'm also tired of january, it should be spring break already so i'm manifesting that energy into both this fic and the new year !! reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated :>

now playing... la playa by myke towers

yourusername verano contigo 🤍

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, settling your phone down after the content had been uploaded.

You met Jude by spare chance. You’d been living in Madrid for a bit more than a year, occupied with your studies by the time the star boy reached the promised land. Jogging in Valdebebas at six thirty in the morning and having a black car pull up next to you was the way you were sure you were leaving this earth, instead finding a footballer asking for directions at the other side of the rolled-down window.

You easily discover the real reason later on. He was not lost, but had seen you around the residential complex; he’d only gotten the courage to talk to you after taking a big jug of coffee that morning, or so he claimed.

You’d noticed he had been staring at your glistening skin as you tanned your backside, but decided against commenting until the cheeky smile started to blossom. “Nothin’ “ He shook his head, but a tiny smile was half hidden behind his plush lips, giving away other intentions. The sun was so bright it was dazing, you’d sat under it for a while now hoping to darken your skin. The heat felt funny inside your tummy, similar to how Jude made your guts churn whenever he hooked your legs over his shoulders. “You’re sitting too far. C’mere.”

“Jude, mi rey, we’ve been holding hands the whole time I’ve been tanning.” You replied shortly, looking at him from behind your shades.

“Not close enough.” He practically whined, tugging at your arm with need, coercing you to get up and sit on his lap under the shade.

“Better?” You asked from your newfound place in his crotch, warm bodies coming in contact as you settled. You noticed him nod, his arm wrapping your waist in a way his forearm rested against your bare abdomen covering your belly button.

“Why won’t you post me?” His lower lip puckered out, eliciting a laugh out of you as you turned to face him briefly before turning towards the vast ocean in front of you. A small groan left his lips at the innocent movement.

After analyzing the vivid memory of his face, and thinking through your words, you spoke up. “Didn’t know if you wanted me to.” Once again, got comfortable in his lap. A sigh followed, coming from the man behind you.

“Have I ever told you how much I like that bikini on you?” Jude spoke after a minute or so of comfortable silence. You felt him toying with the drawstring of the bottoms. You could also feel something poking at your bare ass. “But not as much as I like you…”

“I think you’ve mentioned how you wanted to take it off.” Your voice barely came out; a mumble almost, ignoring the last sentence. Your heart thud against your chest, louder than it had done before when he questioned his presence— or lack thereof— in your vacation post. You peered around the area, only to find the waves crashing close to your beach beds’ location, and pearl-ish white sand spread for miles on end— just the two of you.

You felt him nod again, his chin brushing against your shoulder. Though he confirmed your suspicions of his true intentions, Jude’s hand didn’t undo the strap that held together the skimpy bikini. Instead, his fingers trailed the hem of the swimsuit, barely touching the warm skin. “Can I?”

The tone of his voice was low, the manner only brought goosebumps down your spine. But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of being eager, or at least the stupor of the hot day didn’t allow you to nod fast enough for you to look desperate. “You don’t know how happy I am to get you like this…” His hand sneaked under the piece at a painfully slow pace. Even though you knew what was going to happen, your breath got stuck in your throat.

“You always get me like this whenever you please.” It could be a complaint coming from anyone else, but it was just the reality of the situation. The relationship between you and Jude was… unclear. Feelings had been owned up to, but a title hadn’t been discussed. In fact, this was the first trip you tagged along; he asked you personally to do so. But you still decided against reading too much into it.

“You were saying, love?” Jude chuckled with malice, smirking at the way your skin prickled up at his touch applied to the bundle of nerves between your legs— which also spread involuntarily to give him better access. The way your words morphed with the moans and delirious sighs brought only further satisfaction to the British national.

“Don’t get all sassy with me.” You complained through a breathy laugh, eyes falling shut. His other hand trailed upwards your torso, to rest against your breasts and get straight into the task of cupping the left one first. The circles to your clit were steady, too steady for your liking. But still good enough to enjoy, and your moans let him know he was doing a stellar job. As per usual.

“What do you want, amor?” You managed to ask. Jude could’ve internally cursed, you knew him too well. A little too well for his liking. Instead of providing an answer, he pressed harder against your clit, the pressure catching you off guard, doubling down the attitude too.

“You,” Jude replied after what seemed years after he couldn’t take any more of your squirming. “Just you, all for me.” You could feel his stubble brushing against your shoulder before his lips pressed onto the length of your neck. It was all too much for you; the heat, the bright sun, the dryness settling in your tongue, his hands touching your body, his hard, clothed cock pressing against your backside, and the coil tightening in your lower stomach.

But he stopped.

Almost bewildered, you gasped, at the same time he undid the bunny ears that kept your swimsuit together. A smile crept onto your face as you turned to face him, thighs on either side of his hips. “You’re looking at me like that again.” You noted humbly, undoing the string of your bra. He couldn’t even formulate a response at the sight of your bare body, eyes scanning every inch, adoring the fresh tan lines.

“How could I not? You’re perfect.” Jude breathed out, leaning forward to catch his lips in yours. It was slow, but oozing with need and passion. You felt a pressure built up in your stomach, sparks, but you hesitated if he ever felt those around you.

“My perfect girl.” He breathed against your lips, hands holding onto your hips as he watched you undo the string that held his swimsuit tighter to his waist. He helped you pull the item down, barely resting at his upper thighs.

He leaned forward once again to catch your lips on his, letting out a tiny groan as you leaned further, just to tease him. “Kiss me,” Jude whined, stomach tightening at the firm grip around his shaft.

“Tranquilo, mi rey.” You cooed, working him up by rubbing his swollen tip on the warm and wet hole before finally sinking down his length. A pair of harmonious groans left both of your lips once you sat in his lap again, hips circling to get accustomed to the stretch.

“I can’t calm down when I’m obsessed with you.” Jude breathed out, large hands helping you steady the pace of your hips. He watched hypnotized by the way his cock disappeared in and out of your warm walls. His eyes were set, as though he wanted to train them to imprint the image in the back of his mind.

Your voice snapped him out of his trance. “Eyes up here, big boy.” The friendly banter defined your relationship; you often wondered if putting a label on things would make that disappear. But it was all just a wall to hide behind the adoration you felt for him, using it to dodge every compliment, in fear that none of his words were sincere. You could tell he wasn’t disappointed in the slightest when meeting your eyes, and the look you couldn’t pinpoint for the whole afternoon reappeared as he tangled his fingers in your hair and drew you right in for a kiss.

A kiss fierce enough to make you weak in the knees.

It was the perfect opportunity for Jude to accommodate his stance to start thrusting upwards, the sweetest noise he managed to squeeze out from the back of your throat was worth the tension in his core. Instantly, your back arched to give him the perfect angle. “I want you like this all the time…” He moaned into your mouth, hands on your hips to pin you down.

“Jude…” You mewled, the sound of skin coming into contact filling the empty air, harmonizing with the waves crashing near the beach spot you both occupied. You could feel your orgasm building rapidly, and Jude wasn’t foreign to the squeezing that built-up with every frantic thrust.

“C’mere doll, you’re doing so good f’me. Cum all over my cock, c’mon.” His voice was soft, the encouragement overlapping with his own groans of pleasure. He drew you into his arms, holding you close to his chest. Jude resisted the usual drawn-out teasing and mocking, now finding satisfaction in babying you as he slammed deep into you.

The string of incoherent babbles left your mouth shortly after his praises reached your ears. Jude closed his eyes to both contain himself from releasing at the way your pulsating walls were milking him so deliciously, but to also cherish the way your moans turned up the octave, nails digging into the sweaty skin of his bicep. Yet again, the heat you’ve been withstanding for the entirety of that morning hazed you, making a fantastic team with the warmth of Jude’s strong arms and the faded smell of his cologne mixed in with the salty air.

But all it took to push you right off the edge was a kiss. A single kiss pressed to your shoulder.

Your release consisted of a cocktail of your orgasm and a wave of realization crashing over you. You were head over heels with the man who was currently squishing your face against his buff chest, strong arms wrapped around your waist as he held you down. Groans and chants of your name replaced your meek moans and sighs, his cum filling you up. You allowed him the luxury of doing so every once in a while, and the dream-like stupor that enveloped your mind currently created the desire for him to do so.

The sounds of waves crashing filled the air once more, overshadowing the heavy breathing you shared. You stayed put, even cuddling closer to him as soon as the tremor left your legs. Time seemed to slow down, and you wondered how difficult the task of pulling away from him would soon be.

“Can I post you?”

Jude broke the silence, he’d been busy brushing your hair strands back into place upon the comfortable silence you’d set on. There was an arm still wrapped along the width of your waist. You pulled back to look him in the eyes, expecting to see playfulness in them, but finding a completely serious stare in return. “Since a certain someone won’t post me…”

“Oh, stop it!” You laughed, cheeks flushed at the idea. “If you think it's that great on an idea…” You puckered your lips while replicating his tone, cupping his face and planting a peck on his lips.

Jude smirked, licking his lips to chase the taste of you. But his eyes were soft, full of adoration. That look. It would blossom by just admiring your presence, or during one of his favorite activities– making you happy. “All I have are great ideas. Amazing, even.” He stole a peck off from you. You giggled, and a smile subconsciously peaked from behind his lips.

His heart flipped in his chest for the hundredth time that trip.

Jude, lost for words, just shook his head and reached for his phone. He started to wonder how a person could compete so easily with the grandiose, warmth and shine of the sun above.

But one peek down at you, snuggled up against him, answered all his questions.

judebellingham summer with you 🤍

A/N: used @ keilanilizbeth on instagram as the fc

and that pic on the left has me wishing i could match sambas with jude 😞😞

[feninina]

𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐞 ༉‧₊˚.⁀➷

therapist! jonathan crane x female reader.

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: when your father decided that you needed therapy, taking you to his dear friend dr. crane to treat and help you, you thought it wouldn't work at all, but it turned out to be everything you needed.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: SMUT(minors dni!!), noncon/dubcon, depression, cursing, crane is a mysoginistic prick, using therapy for unhinged reasons, smut, hair pulling, jonathan just being an creep, choking AND strangulation, dacryphilia, hitting, unprotected sex (safe sex its great sex!!), breeding kink, forced breeding, power dynamics, i think crane should be a warning himself, reader being borderline stupid and naive. also this has a lot of backstory i’m so sorry i got carried away lol.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 7.1K

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: omg my first fic on here!! this is also my first work on english and my first smut ever so i apologise in advance for any mistake!! i hope y'all enjoy it anyways ahahahaha live laugh love jonathan crane👏🏻 feedback its very appreciated so i can improve and continue to publish better works, anyways enjoyyyy 💓

𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁

It was awkward, to say the least.

You were sitting across from Doctor Crane in the couch at your dad's house, legs crossed as you watched him write on his clipboard, something about it making you feel anxious, a little nauseous, even.

This wasn't your first session, you started doing this four months ago, not long after your divorce that caused you to fall into a spiral of sadness and misery. Your failed— and short marriage was the main reason you started taking therapy with your dad's friend, the chief of Arkham, Jonathan Crane, and still, you couldn't bring yourself to talk about it.

He was patient, you told him several times that he was a saint. Regardless, before you started with the sessions, he explained to your dad that he didn't really do this; therapy really wasn't his strong suit, but for a friend, a desperate one, he would gladly do it.

Your dad came to him, offering a big stack of money if he would talk to his little girl, make her recover her once joyful personality, like you had one to begin with. Jonathan really couldn't say no, and not really because of the money, he had other reasons in mind, unethical reasons.

And there you were now. You were quick to open up to him, eager to talk, to be listened and he, on the other hand, was ready to listen, to give you advice, console you and help you get through the sorrow that was following you since you were young, playing the role of your knight in shinning armor.

"I can't believe you don't actually do this" you said once, sniffling your nose with a handkerchief he gave you as he examined you with a warm gaze, an empathetic grin on his face. "You're really helping me"

Jonathan was quick to wave his hand and tell you that it wasn't a big deal, that he was just doing his job, and if you weren't so innocent, so stupid, you would have noticed the mischievous sparkle that flickered in his eyes for a split second.

You were landing right in the palm of his hand.

Not even thirty minutes into the first session you told him everything about your past; every little thing you thought he needed to know to treat you. And you were slightly right; he did need to know those things, but not to treat you, just to manipulate you and mold your little brain into what he was envisioning for you and your future together.

Truth was, you hated everything about your life, regardless of the fact that you had everything. That's what you've been told since you were a child; a big house, a lot of money, maids taking care of you so you wouldn't have to move a finger and just sit pretty and relax inside the walls of the huge mansion that confined you since you could recall.

You have everything. That was bullshit.

Sometimes, you couldn't help but think that people told you that out of pity, like they knew how miserable you felt, but not daring to say a word about it. Your dad was a powerful man, and you were aware of that, ever since you were born, he had bussines with Falcone and you knew that people feared him, he practically ruled Gotham, that lifeless and dangerous city that you had to live in.

You have everything. You were tired of that sentence. You didn't care at all about these nice things surrounding you, those dresses in your closet, those diamonds in your jeweler, that fancy car you owned since your eighteenth birthday, no, that was useless in your eyes, because all you really wanted, was love.

It was a lonely life; you learned how to do everything by yourself, how to comb your hair, how to deal with your period when it first came, how to dress up properly and do your makeup. You didn't even had to learn about boy problems because there weren't any boys in your life, you were homeschooled. So you were quiet, not really having to talk at all, there was nobody to talk to.

And since Jonathan was the only person you were talking to at the moment, you started to feel like you loved him, the idea sitting right with you without you even knowing it, thinking that this was how therapy normally went.

Loneliness striked your life at a young age; your mother died from a strange disease when you were eight, leaving you with a shattered heart thad bled everytime you walked past her bedroom, or saw a picture of her. You practically watched her die, a witness of how she lost her strength, how her once beautiful skin turned pale and yellow, and lost every little spark within herself, and the worst part was that all the money you had, couldn't even help her.

It was a deep wound that you carried with yourself, with nobody to talk about it.

Your father spent his days locked up in his office, and when he wasn't there, he was out in the city doing unthinkable things that you didn't even wanted to know about, leaving you on your own, having to fill all of those silent and empty rooms by yourself, with nobody to laugh with, nobody to hold you and see you grow. He wasn't really around, working all the time, too busy to know that his daughter didn't seem to care about all the expensive stuff he bought for her, not even taking the time to have dinner with you or hold a simple conversation. He loved you, you knew that, he just wasn't the type to show his affection with words or actions, but with gifts. And you hated everything about it.

But now, Jonathan was there, making you feel listened, finally saving you from falling into loneliness again. Your whole life, you thought you had a horrible sickness, that you were doomed to this awful destiny of sorrow and silence, but now, with his sweet words and good company, you couldn't be more than relieved.

You wished sometimes that you met him earlier, that this whole therapy stuff started before, and you even confessed it to him. And it irked him a little, that you didn't even remember how you two really met each other, hiding his annoyance with a warm smile.

Some months ago, your father started to brought you to parties he attended, parties were all the corrupts scumbags from Gotham reunited and celebrated how they were dragging the city to the gates of hell on their benefit, and you couldn't be more happy to attend them. You knew he was bringing you because he recently broke up with the young girl he carried with him— that was most likely your age, and needed a pretty thing to hang of his arm and take care of the people he didn't feel like talking to.

So you accepted this new life, eating up this role of socialite like it was made for you.

It was a chance to know people, to speak and make new friends, but you learned quickly that those people weren't there for that, and picked up on how mostly of the people who talked to you just wanted to climb up the social ladder and gain some extra points from your father.

He, even, introduced you to a couple of people that seemed close to your age, and you chatted with them, feeling extremely anxious because you weren't used to this, so it was weird to them seeing such a pretty woman, with your status and fortune, acting so shy and quiet in a place that your dad practically owned.

After a couple of hours, you learned the agenda. All you had to do was put on a fake smile, get them off your father's shoulders and pretend you were very interested in what they had to say, hiding your uncomfortable expression behind your glass of champagne, promising them that you would arrange a reunion with your father someday.

One of those nights, your father introduced you to someone, someone who you didn't pay much attention because he seemed to be uninterested too, only being there for the sake of his job.

"Pretty girl, come here" your father said, a cheerful tone of voice as grabbed you by the shoulder to get your attention, snapping you out of your train of thoughts. "I want you to meet my friend, Doctor Crane"

You looked at the man in front of your dad, his pale blue eyes already sizing you up discretely, looking at you up and down in a way that didn't go unnoticed by you, a shiver running down your spine as his eyes finally locked with yours.

You couldn't help but feel small under his gaze, your glass now forgotten in your left hand, the right one extended to take his and stretch it for a quick second, returning to your first position, his expression remaining serious.

"Nice to meet you" he spoke, his voice sounding like velvet in your eyes, not quite sensing the undertone behind it. "Your father told me wonders about you"

You grin, the irony of that sentence making you laugh a little, what wonders could your father know about you? But you kept your composure, the conversation not going any further, and you forgot about him fast enough, when in another of those annoying parties you met the love of your life — or so you thought.

That same night, when you went back home, you were thinking about spending the rest of your life with some guy that flirted with you at the bar, and Jonathan, prayed to whatever thing listening to him up there, that crossed your path with his again.

He practically obsessed with you, because it felt right. You were young, beautiful, wealthy and had a last name that could open even more doors for him, getting tired of saving Falcone's man of going to jail; you were an opportunity, tied to a nice pair of legs.

After a few weeks of stalking, it kinda broke his heart that naive as he expected you, you got married to the guy from the party; he told you then his name was Lewis, and now you doubted it that was even true.

You were finally going to get what you always wished for, a family, love. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect.

It was a dream that you were living in. A dream that shattered in front of you no longer than three months after.

After you contracted married with this man, you took care of the house, now learning all of these housewife duties that you didn't know anything about, but making your best effort to please him, to be the perfect woman ever created, departing from your old life and habits and adjusting them to his own.

You couldn't be more happy, regardless of your bad cooking, the bad-swiped floor and the half-done bed that welcomed you both every night, you finally had love.

It lasted three months. Your wholesome real life fantasy of a marriage destroyed when you found out, accidentally, that this man was just an employee of your dad, willing to get a promotion if he married you. At that moment, you didn't know who you hated more, if the bastard, or your dad who was literally bribing the bastard to love you.

But your dad only wanted to make you happy, tho.

You were embarrassed, not quite sure of how to tell this to Jonathan, because after all, he was there for you, just for the money your dad was paying him. Your cursed the day your dad became rich, because all of it was making you miserable and it felt like it wasn't going to stop.

At this point, a feeling of despite against you was growing within Jonathan, after a few weeks treating you, he quickly remembered why he didn’t chose this path of career, but remembering that he was there because of a major reason; a reason more important than your helpless cries for attention.

He was sick of you, all you ever did was complain in the commodity of your million dollar house, unaware that there were more important problems in the world. It isn’t completely your fault, Jonathan thought one day, you were just an ungrateful brat, and his work was to tame you, and he planned to do just that today.

"So," he startled you, narrowing his eyebrows, an expression in his face that you could only understand as concern. "remember, if you don't speak, I can't help you".

You chuckle and shift your weight in the chair, immediately feeling your eyes fill up with tears as you confronted the fact that you had to speak about it, right now. He was quick to offer you his handkerchief, as he always did and with shaky hands you took it, sniffling onto it, closing your eyes as you felt your whole body shake with each one of your cries.

You felt Jonathan put his hand on your knee, softy caressing the skin that his thumb could reach, opening your eyes and looking at his, Jonathan welcoming you with a pitying look. You put the tissue aside, both him being so close and his scent impregnated on the piece of fabric making you feel a little giddy, a little confused.

Why was your heart racing so much? He was your therapist, here to talk about your former husband.

Jonathan couldn't help but grin a little, knowing he was maybe breaking a rule here, touching you like this, being so close. He couldn't care less, after all, he wasn't here listening to you cry and bitch about your whole life for the sake of your well-being. He was here because he wanted you to break and get on your knees to him. Figuratively and literally.

"It's so embarrassing" you struggled to spit out "He didn't even love me, Doctor"

He hummed, dragging his chair so he was a little closer to you, you looked at him through your teary lashes and tried to keep it together, this wasn't the first time you cried in front of him, but the reason itself was enough to make you feel full of shame.

He didn't say anything, this being a motivation for you to continue.

"My dad was paying him" you murmured, cleaning the mascara off your cheeks. "It was all a lie"

The whole situation was absurd, what happened to you still felt like a sick joke they were playing on you, your dad and Lewis, probably waiting for the perfect moment to tell you the truth.

But that wasn't going to happen, right now the only thing that felt true to you was Jonathan. He set you up to that, and you blindly fell on his silly trap.

"Poor thing" he cooed you, moving his hand a little further up your thigh, noticing the goosebumps on your skin. A mastermind, that's how he felt. "How could they?"

That was all the mendacity he fed you with since you started seeing him, making you believe he was actually empathizing with you, full of loathe against everyone who hurt you, who dared to leave you alone, but now he was there, his task being to pretend to care.

"It's pathetic" you blurted out, leaning into his touch when his prying hand went up to your cheek. You really couldn't say anything more, crying against his hand like it was something you did every monday morning. "I'm so sad. I don't know what to do"

He shook his face, your eyes meeting his with a confused expression, black stained tears dropping on your lap and wetting his hand before he returned it and looked over his clipboard, pretending to think.

You were so vulnerable, ready for him to destroy. He finally got you where he wanted. He then explained you that you were so sad that it made you unaware of a lot of things, blinded by your own pity against yourself that every door that opened, you closed. It all came down to a thing; you needed a diagnosis.

He gave you a moment to process the information, ready to continue with his plan.

"Actually," he started, his tone now more firm, more strict, the one he used when you were approaching the end of the session. On the last one, he recommended you to touch yourself, to liberate oxytocin on your brain or something you really didn't understood.

It was almost evil from his side, he knew that your only thought while doing it would he him ordering you to do so.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of such awful news, Y/N" he stated, making your heart skip a beat. "But I think you're sick"

You nearly gasped, the air got stuck in your throat, more tears gathering in your eyes. You lifted one of your hands to your chest, a million thoughts crossing your head as Jonathan's clever eyes examined your expression.

Bingo.

"Sick" you repeated after a moment, almost like you were making peace with the revelation. "How sick?"

It was an innocent question, your tone of voice shaking as your inferior lip trembled, holding it with your teeth in an attempt to not burst into tears again, your whole body feeling like it was going to break into a million peaces by how much you were shaking in the couch.

Jonathan was quick, standing from the chair he was on and taking a seat by your side, his hand swiftly placing in your knee. You looked at him confused, he never got this close, maybe your sickness was serious.

"What am I, Doctor?" you whispered, your eyes showing him a hint of fear that made him finally lose all his faked professionalism. "Depressed? Crazy?"

Both of you were dying of anticipation now; meanwhile you feared that you were going to get admitted to Arkham, Jonathan was seeing the golden ticket to the best future he could ever achieve, and all thanks to you.

"Oh, no, no" he purred, his hand making its way up to your thigh. "You're sick, not crazy"

You parted your lips as his hand moved more further, not really sure of what was happening, not daring to stop him, too scared of your mental health to think about anything else, not helping the way your legs started to part too.

A sudden gasp left your lips as his hand squeezed your tight, a smile you never saw on him appearing on his face. The crying stopped a moment ago, the surprise of having him so close making you go a little numb.

"I know what a girl like you needs" he said, almost sternly, like his hand wasn't centimeters away from your panties.

Was in that moment, that you knew this wasn’t about therapy anymore.

"You think so?" you whispered, your voice still shaky, but now for a whole different reason. "And what is it, Doctor?"

"To be fucked stupid"

It almost shocked you how he said that as it was a normal diagnosis, like he gave you a name of a medicine you could go and buy at any drugstore in town. You gulped and didn't move when his grip tightened on your leg, your face growing red.

A loud gasp escaped your lips when at your lack of response, Jonathan grabbed you hard by the jaw and forced you to look at him. Your eyes glistened with nothing but fear, your brows narrowing as you mumbled something that he really couldn't understand, and it wasn't like he wanted to.

"You're sick, Y/N" he repeated, more harshly this time, his hand moving your head as he spoke. "And I'm going to cure you"

He let go of your face to clasp his lips against yours, a kiss very far away from sweet, his mouth moving roughly against yours. You never had been kissed like this, so you tried to play it along, trying to show him some of the love you felt for him, that you thought you owed him.

But he didn't care if you felt loved during the kiss, trying to assert the dominance he held upon you, his hand now holding firmly the back of you neck to prevent you from pulling away.

It was a mess; your teeth clashed, drool was dripping from your chin as his tongue explored every space of your mouth, not leaving anywhere of it untouched. Your movements were a little stiff, unsure of what to do, trying to provide the sweetness that he lacked.

His hand moved to your the front of your neck and squeezed it a little, making you yelp in surprise, the sound muffled by his mouth. You tried to get away from the kiss, confused about his rough actions against you, a little scared of him even, almost like you didn’t trust him every little part of your brain in this same couch for the last couple of months.

But then it clicked on your foggy brain, he knew you, perfectly— you only knew his name, you didn’t know what this man was capable of.

You could only move a few centimeters away from his hungry mouth, your lips parted as tears welled in your eyes from the pressure he was applying to your neck.

“Stop” you managed to stutter, your breath mixing with his. “I can’t- breathe”

You doubted that he listened to you, your voice not coming out of your throat at all and getting stuck in your larynx, your voice-box completely muffled by his strong grip.

“Shut up, brat” he spitted, his tone sounding full of abhor, your eyes wide open as you felt the air leaving your body and your lungs starting to burn. “Always getting what you want”

You weakly placed one of your hands around his wrist, another attempt of gasp elicited from your agape mouth as he lifted his other hand and choked you with both, something in your dizzy mind telling you that he was possessed.

“Crying all the time- complaining” he continued, not caring if you were listening, the suffocation being to much to bare now. “So selfish”

And maybe he was.

Your brain was filled with fear, wondering how it all went from a kiss to this— almost getting killed by your therapist in your couch. You opened your eyes to meet his, feeling like your chest was on fire as there wasn’t any air flowing in, seeing how the blue of Jonathan’s eyes has darkened and his lips were parted as well, the muscles of his jaw twitching as he choked you to death.

Your eyebrows narrowed together in terror as you noticed that familiar tingly sensation in your lower belly and your thighs clenching together. Maybe it was something about him exercising this power over you, how you felt so feeble under his touch, that was probably leaving bruises on your neck for you to carry and show around what he was making you do it.

You didn’t have enough time to think about it, you were practically dying.

“And you are enjoying this?” he said with an amused tone, probably noticing how your thighs fragily contracted against one another.

You felt yourself slowly lose your consciousness when finally the relief came and the air started to flow again to your desperate lungs, taking long and loud puffs of air when his hand let go of your neck. Your erratic breath was interrupted by a loud moan that escaped you when Crane yanked you by your hair and shoved you to the floor.

He was quick yo position you between his legs, looking at you through his unfixed glasses, giving you a twisted smile that made you quiver in fear, that growing wet patch on your panties making you feel like a really sick girl.

“Doctor-” you mumbled, closing your eyes as he pulled your hair, withdrawing a mewl off your mouth. “Hurts”

“You talk when I tell you to talk” he snickered, adjusting the way his fingers gripped your hair. You thought that he might just pull out the strand he was tugging. “I’m sick of your whining”

You felt more tears well up in your eyes; not sure if it was from the pain in your head or how his words felt like a knife that landed right on your heart. You were confused, sad, angry— a little hot, too.

“I pay you yo listen to me” you said, your voice so shaky you were lucky he could understand you. You wished he didn’t understand you.

Another sort of moan left your lips as a hard slap made a landing in your cheek, your face turned to the side because of the impact. You closed your eyes in disbelief, a cry coming out as you felt helpless, wondering if this was some exposure therapy he was experimenting on you.

He repeated himself, instructing you to talk only when you were told so, nodding in defeat as you accepted whatever this was and continued to play along with Jonathan’s sick fantasy of controlling you, without even knowing it.

You looked at him with nothing but inquietude, the look in his eyes giving you the foreboding that nothing good was about to happen now, frightened of what we would do to you.

He didn’t show any hints of letting go of your hair anytime soon, just holding it firmly to keep you looking at him through your heavy lashes, a wicked grin on his smug face.

“Let’s give that whining mouth of yours a good use” he said, and you gulped, understanding what he wanted and quivering in fear, not really understanding why the sticky sensation between your legs grew.

“Undo my pants” he commanded, and you stayed still, your eyes not leaving his even when another slap landed on your tear-wet face. “Do as you’re told, brat. This might be your only cure”

You couldn’t help but sob a little, his tone sounding so definitive, so professional. Your trembling hands reached his belt and unbuckling it ungracefully, taking longer than he expected, you heard him chuckle as you unbuttoned his pants afterwards, then putting your hands back in front of your lap.

“C’mon” he pulled your hair again, causing you to moan in pain. “Don’t make me tell you what to do”

You looked at him again in nothing but shame, trying to resist to this humiliating request of his, but complying it anyways. He said he was going to cure you, but now you doubted it, right now, you only wanted this to be over.

With a last look at his eyes you returned your attention to the growing bulge in his slacks, the shame in your brain being present at all times, not quite helping the way your eyes were fixated on his clothed member. You were quick to free him out after your staring earned you a other harsh pull of hair, your lips turned into a line when his cock slapped his abdomen, causing his dress shirt to wrinkle a little.

“Go on, Y/N” he encouraged you, as you looked at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him for mercy, knowing that even if you screamed it at him, he just wouldn’t listen. “This isn’t about what you want, anymore. Is about what you need”

A tear slid from your eyes and disappeared down your cheek when his free hand placed the tip of his hard cock on your parted lips, gesturing you to take it and not waste more of his time— more than you already did.

“Open up, whore” he said under his breath, using your hair as a device to move your head and help you shove his length down your throat. You complied, the tears in your eyes now soaking in you cheeks by the effort that you were making trying to welcome his thick shaft down your mouth.

You were sure you scratched him with your teeth a few times as he bobbed your head up and down with his strong hand, manhandling you without care for his own pleasure. You placed your hands on his knees, trying not to gag, but when his tip touched the bottom of your throat, you couldn’t help it.

You cried as you felt suffocated again, now for a whole different reason, a more humiliating one, and you almost wished he killed you then. His hips buckled everytime your lips reached the base of his cock, the room filled with the sounds of your mouth and saliva coating his shaft and the soft moans that came out of his poisoned lips.

“Take it, whore” he said, his voice now husky and distorted by the pleasure, the pain that your teeth accidentally inflicted on him turning him even more. “God- you are horrible at this”

He chuckled between heavy breaths, pulling you by the hair and releasing his cock from your mouth, a vulgar pop filling both of your ears at the sudden separation of your lips and his member. Your eyes looked at the floor, feeling such a shame that the mere thought of meeting his face with your fearful face made you cringe, the pulsating pain on the back of your head making you dizzy.

“You can’t suck dick properly” he said, his tone sounding like he was making fun of you. “No wonder why your husband left you. You’re just pathetic”

You finally rose up your face to look at that insufferable smile of his, ignoring the way his cock was still hanging there in front of you, almost brushing your nose. His fingers finally untangled from your hair and giving you some sort of solace, the consolation that this traumatic session was over.

Maybe the remedy was worse than the sickness itself.

“Jonathan, stop it, plea-”

Your imploration was completely ignored, followed by another slap on your wet cheek that made you cry even more, not understanding how this man could’ve been the same one who made you felt loved and finally listened. You fell for a lie once again.

“Get on the couch” he simply said, his words were like a bucket of cold water fell on you. “Stop the bitching, don’t want to hear it”

“And I’m your doctor. Not Jonathan” he reminded you, making you feel even more ashamed.

You did as he told, again, half-standing from the floor and sitting next to him, trying to take as much space from him as you could before he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, your face growing red as his face was now centimeters away from yours.

“You look so beautiful when you cry” he whispered, caressing your face but trying to nor wipe the tears away, almost like he was admiring you. It made you melt into his touch, glad that his kind demeanor was there again. Even if his words made you cringe— and the fact that his cock was still out, you felt your heart grew warmer by the way he tenderly touched you.

It didn’t last much longer, when his lips twitched into a malicious smile and went down to nibble your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses around the bruised skin and bitting where his fingers hurt you previously, making your fingers wrap on his hair and cry for mercy, trying for him to stop hurting you this much.

“Shut up, stupid brat” he repeated that same insult, making you swallow your cries, closing your eyes in disbelief as he continued to injure your already suffering skin.

You arched your back in surprise when all of the sudden his hands reached for your breasts, groping your tits like his life depending on it, stimulating you through the fabric of your shirt, but all you felt was fear and anger, impotence flowing through your veins because you just couldn’t scream and push him away, fear was freezing you on the spot.

The worst part? You maybe didn’t wanted to push him away. Because maybe if he gets what he wants now you would be cured and he’ll be back to normal, returning you the sweet Doctor Crane that you met once, not this monster that was groping you like a piece of meat.

He clicked his tongue and dropped both of his hands to spread your legs open, forcing your back to drop onto the hand rester of the couch. You looked at him with big eyes, your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest and scream to Jonathan that enough was enough, you just couldn’t take any of this anymore.

But your heart stayed there, between your lungs that seemed incapable to hold any air, making your breathing erratic. So nobody screamed Jonathan to stop, and he continued with his profanation against your persona— your dignity.

He bit his lip at the sight of your fucked-up face, your legs open as it showed him the dark patch on your baby blue panties, darting his eyes from your half-exposed crotch to your teary eyes.

“God, keep crying and I might come now” he growled, lowering his face to meet your pussy, kissing it through your underwear, making you mewl, closing your eyes at the sudden attention your core was getting.

You felt embarrassed at how much you enjoyed when he moved the fabric to the side and started making out with your cunt, swallowing your fluids like a starved man.

“So wet” he mumbled against your labia, the vibration making your eyes roll back, bitting your lip to prevent any moan to come out; he was raping you, why did he make you enjoy it? “I bet you like this, to be treated like a whore”

You shook your head, more tears falling out of your eyes as you felt nothing else but humiliation, pleasure washing over your body everytime his tongue brushed your clit, your back arched against nothing.

“You like it?” he said, finally pulling out and pushing his body up so his face was in front of yours, his cock grazing against your now stimulated pussy, a gasp leaving your lips, a gasp that quickly turned into a hurting moan when his hand slapped you again, this time in your throbbing cunt. “Answer me”

“I- I do” you whispered, gripping his shoulders when you felt him align the head of his member with your whole, scared of how it was going to fit. You had trouble taking it when he face-fucked you, how the fuck it was going to fit down there?

“I’m going to fuck you so good” he whispered between pants, jerking himself off before entering you. “You’re going to forget that pathetic husband of yours”

You couldn’t help but cry, trying to push him off by the shoulders, a terrified look on your face. “It won’t fit, Doctor” you pleaded, a crooked grin on his face as you keep on calling him that. “I beg you, don’t-”

“Yes, beg me” he said, starting to push his member inside you with a slow but relentlessly pace, not giving you enough time to adjust, just to scream and hit him weakly on the chest, face and shoulders before ge grabbed your hands and pinned them down, on the sides of your body. “I’m going to cure you- do you so good”

His voice was low, as he barely could speak when he felt just how tight you were, your walls hugging his cock just the right way, his pulsating head making your mind dizzy, the stinging pain starting to be forgotten.

But when he slid out and entered back it, the hardness of his movement made your insides burn with pain, a loud cry echoing in the walls of the living room as he started to trust into your pussy with a fast pace, not caring at all if you felt good.

He snapped his hips against yours with an animalistic force, growls escaped from his mouth every time his cock was welcomed by the warmth of your stretch whole, the sensation making him go even more feral, making you cry more.

He let go of one of your hands and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at his eyes as he fucked you vigorously, the blue on his iris not existent anymore, only his widely dilated pupils meeting yours, your blurred vision distinguishing the depraved expression in his face.

“You- so tight” he snarled, his voice barely audible, covered by the sound of skin slapping and your loud cries. “I bet your stupid husband didn’t fuck you like this”

You felt nothing but shame as you felt his cock now sliding in and out more easily, the wetness of your cunt growing as he spoke to you like that, that familiar heat flourishing in your lower belly as his words degraded you, your cries quickly becoming moans.

“This was all you needed- fuck” he said, his spit splashing your face as he talked, his words full of disdain. “A good dick, that’s all it takes to keep bitches like you quiet” You nodded, thinking that if you agreed he would stop. How wrong you were.

In a quick movement Jonathan took his cock out and spun you around, not giving you time to get on your ass up by laying your chest down before he stabbed your hole again, pushing your skirt all the way up to see how his pelvis came into collision with your ass.

You were moaning like a bitch in heat now, sure that the maids were listening, not really caring about it anymore. Jonathan was fucking you nice and hard, your mouth wide open as his tip brushed your cervix, screaming to him to keep it right there.

“I’m close” he said, pulling your hair back to press his chest to your back, his other hand going down to play with your swollen clit, wanting your to come around his cock like the slut he knew you were. “Come with me, you whore”

“Yes” you moaned, your tongue out as his cock hit the right spots, making your hips to move against his, grinding against his hand and dick, feeling your wetness drip down to your thighs. “Yes, yes, I want to”

He laughed, approaching your ear with his tongue to bite it, leaving a long and wet kiss underneath it that made you grow hotter, your eyes closed as you let him use you; the only thought in your mind being him and his wonder-working cock.

Truth was, he was fucking you stiffly, every slam of his hips stronger than the last one, but you were so deprived of touch, so dick-starved, that even if Jonathan was fucking you like a lifeless doll, only for the sake of his pleasure, you loved it, even when it hurt you.

“I’m going to fill you up” he said against your ear, his hand leaving your clit unattended as he grabbed your hip to increase the velocity of his thrusts, ramming your hole like a demented man, making your head drop against his shoulder and scream at the ceiling, now knowing what he meant by curing you.

“Going to get you pregnant” he said, more to himself than anything “so you don’t have to bitch about being alone anymore”

You opened your eyes with terror, you didn’t want children, you were so young. The idea made you frightened, the moaning now sounding like little nos and pull outs, but Jonathan didn’t listen.

“Doctor please, please, pull out” you pleaded, reaching for his hips and trying to push him away, one of his hands slapping your ass and pulling you down by your shoulder blade so you wouldn’t fight anymore. “Doctor Crane please”

“I will fucking fill you up, Y/N” he chanted, laughing at the idea of your round belly and your swollen tits, carrying his baby all day and feeling all worked up and needy all day, only waiting for him to fuck you all day. “You won’t be alone again. You won’t be sad again”

Then you realized it.

When he came, your hot walls creamed every single drop of his cum, making his thrusts sloppy and slow, his moans filling your ears as you sobbed under his touch, feeling his seed paint your walls and load your insides with his sperm.

That was your cure.

His hot release that now flooded inside your leaking cunt, that was your so-promised antidote. He took away your solitude by giving you his and yours firstborn, a bastard baby that would give you the company that you lacked.

You felt him chuckle as he rode out his high, the chase of his own climax made you forget yours, so now there you were, your swollen cunt looking for its release while his rested among your insides calmly, like it was meant to be.

He didn’t pull out immediately, taking his time to appreciate the sight of your skirt resting in your hips all rolled up, your bruised neck and messy hair, the way your ass was exposed to him by the way he had you arching your back. All for him— for him to wreck.

He pulled out and rolled his eyes when you started crying, now being annoying instead of hot. You sat on the couch and saw him button his pants and fix his hair, hissing when you felt nothing but pain growing in your worn-out pussy. You explained through your weak voice how he ruined your life, that he was the worst person you’ve ever met and that now you had to carry the product of his sick and twisted rapist-fantasy, even tried to hit him, but your pathetic tantrum only gained you another slap in the face, and a stern look.

When he tried to stand up and leave, you grabbed him by the wrist and begged him not to, he couldn’t just leave you, not now, not ever.

“Don’t be so ungrateful” he said, a smile that made you feel nothing but trepidation in his face. “You’ll never be alone again”

You couldn’t help but feel scared. Scared of him, of what just happened, of what’s going to happen next, scared for your future son with this evil specie of a man.

When you continued to cry, and he pulled you for a hug as he assured you that he would never leave you; and how could he? He had a long life of success waiting for him now, giving a girl of your status his last name, his children. Oh, it’s going to be wonderful, he just needed to tame you and make you the perfect slave for him, and that wasn’t going to be hard.

You were sure that you’ll never be loved, but at least now Jonathan was going to be with you. You’ll never be alone again.

thanks for reading. w/love, fenina;)

taglist: @lovesickxcherries @genini @ilunapb @ostricx @devotedlyshadowytheorist

if you want to be added let me know, it’ll be my pleasure🫶🏻

[stellarbit]

Shifting Loyalties NSFW

Word Count: 7.7k Pairings: The Bad Batch x fem!reader, Tech girlies you get an extra treat. Warnings: I'm not gonna lie y'all, this is smut with almost no plot. I can't list it all. I have no excuses, it's all the batch at once so that should give you an idea of what you're walking into. But no clonecest here. Barely proofread. Summary: The Bad Batch and you are supporting the 501st on a mission, where you are reunited with your old squad. The Batch get a bit jealous and Jesse fans the flame. NSFW

Fives is alive for this because, who doesn’t need more Fives and who doesn’t want to scream at canon sometimes.

-

“It’s obnoxious is what it is.” Crosshair spat, biting down hard enough on his toothpick to snap it in two.

The source of his irritation was the scene unfolding amongst the men of the 501st. During another last-minute mission as General Skywalker's backup, you and Echo had settled in with your former squad before it was time to turn in for the night. Gathered in a loose circle were Echo, Rex, Jesse, Fives, Kix, and you, catching up while the Batch observed from a distance.

Perched on a crate, with Fives at your side leaning on an elbow and talking your ear off, you crossed your ankles and swayed your feet lightly, clearly enjoying the conversation. When Fives' hand casually landed on your thigh, emphasizing his point, Wrecker couldn't suppress a low groan.

"What's so special about those guys, anyway?" Wrecker grumbled, tossing a hand in your direction as a loud laugh escaped you. "I bet it's not even that funny!"

Paying as little attention to the situation as possible, Tech interjected, "There's nothing 'special' about them. It’s simply a shared history." He glanced up to see Fives stand a bit taller, gesturing animatedly as he dominated the conversation. Fives leaned closer to you, his hands gripping your knees for balance.

Logically, there was nothing wrong with their behavior. As Tech understood it, such comradery was not uncommon amongst the regs. Yet seeing you at the center of it set his teeth on edge.

Kix and Jesse had picked up on the Batch’s attitude the moment you stepped off the Marauder. Rex warmed up to the 99’s but the rest of the 501st maintained their distance. That distance solidified into distaste when you left the 501st to join the Batch.

As Rex and Echo broke away on their own, Jesse sidled up to your side, opposite of Fives, with Kix at his side. While Fives pulled every laugh out of you he could, Kix noticed the scowl Tech was leveling him and subtly nudged Jesse.

“Looks like we’ve got an audience.” Kix muttered.

Jesse glanced briefly towards the four Batch members who were watching intently. "Oh, really?" Jesse scoffed, his gaze sweeping over the group before returning to you with a renewed, cocky smile. “Well, then let’s give them something to look at.”

Hopping up next to you, Jesse leaned into your space to position behind your back and hovering over your waist. “Say, Shorty?” He finally interrupted Fives’ ramblings, getting the ARC trooper to push off of you.

“Oh!” You laughed. “Back to ‘Shorty’ are we?”

Fives crossed his arms and grinned, “Well, seeing as how you are shorter than us - you’ll always be a shorty to us.” He nodded towards his brothers at your side. You rolled your eyes, but the small smile tugging at you betrayed your enjoyment

Catching this, Jesse and Fives shared a knowing look, Fives briefly glancing at Jesse's hand still poised near your side. Fives then uncrossed his arms and nodded subtly.

“As I was saying…” Jesse continued, his tone teasing. “You ever get over that little twitch of yours?”

A confused look passed over you. With a small shake of your head you asked, “What ‘twitch?’”

Without warning, Jesse’s hand snapped to your side, his fingers wiggling into your ribs, eliciting a yelp as you jumped into him. In a desperate attempt to escape his tickling, you shimmied forward, laughing through the discomfort. The sudden movement toppled you off the crate, straight into Fives’ waiting arms. Without missing a beat, he caught you with one arm cradling your ass and the other holding you by your waist.

Jesse and Kix chuckled as you shoved against Fives, your feigned anger fooling no one. Kix leaned over to Jesse, musing, "Oh, they didn't like that one bit."

“Looks like someone should go lend them some comfort.” Jesse said sarcastically, sauntering off towards the four troopers.

From their side, the Batch watched on in disgust as you sat in Fives’ arms losing yourself in laughter. He hoisted you over his shoulder, bouncing you a couple of times for show, before setting you back on your feet.

"Show off," Hunter muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes as he turned from the spectacle. He gestured to his brothers with a brisk nod. "C'mon lads, let’s head inside." Despite the order, Tech, Wrecker, and Crosshair remained firmly in place as Jesse approached, his presence igniting further irritation.

A guttural growl rumbled from Crosshair as Jesse closed in, his tone playful yet provocative. "You're not heading out so soon, are you, fellas?" He jerked a thumb back in your direction, his grin sharp. "You’re missing all the fun over here."

“Oh goody.” Crosshair angled a mean smile at him, placing a toothpick between his lips. “Tell me, are all regs as dull as you?”

Maintaining his composure, Jesse leaned in slightly, his confidence unshaken. “With her smiling like that, I can’t say I’m too worried about being dull. We always kept her smiling. In fact, most nights with us ended with her being happy.” He casually rested a hand on his hip, his smirk widening. “Guess you fellas are only good with clankers.”

Tech, standing next to Crosshair, frowned deeply, his eyes flicking between the men of the 501st and you. His voice was sharp, clinical. “What exactly are you insinuating?”

Before Jesse could reply, Wrecker pushed forward, his massive frame towering as he stepped between his brothers. His voice was deep and menacing, each word dripping with threat., “Yeah, what are you in-sin-ua-ting?”

Jesse stepped closer, meeting the challenge and smirking up at the large clone. “I’m saying, we must’ve been doing something you aren't.” His gaze briefly flickering over to where you were mingling with others, finally realizing where Jesse had strayed off to. While he could, Jesse snuck in one more jab. “Guess Echo didn’t tell you everything. We were more than a squad to her.”

The implication ripped a growl from Crosshair, but before he could escalate the situation, your warm voice broke the tension. “You wouldn’t be causing trouble now, would you, Jesse?”

Jesse turned toward you with a feigned innocence, his chuckle light. “Of course not,” he replied smoothly. “Just catching them up on the old days.” As he clapped a hand on your shoulder and gave it a playful shake, he threw in, “Speaking of which, why don’t you bunk with us tonight, Shorty? It’ll be just like old times.”

His use of your nickname in front of your squad heated your face. From the noise Crosshair made, you were going to have trouble living that down.

With a laugh, you rolled his hand off your shoulder, your tone light but firm. “Oh, I don’t think so. I actually need to get some sleep.” You poked a finger into Jesse’s chest plate playfully yet pointedly. “Which I’m sure wouldn’t happen with your lot around.”

Wrecker's eyebrows flew up as he shot a look at Hunter, who wore a similarly stunned expression. They were just beginning to catch glimpses of your unfiltered self, and while they had suspected the men of the 501st were trying to rile them up, they never dreamt of the level of intimacy you just admitted to.

Seeing you banter so comfortably with the regs, with laughter and playful jabs, left the Batch glowering. For the first time in their lives, they were truly jealous of these regs. They were getting used to being the closest to you, the ones you leaned on during missions, and this unexpected side of you—closer with regs than them—struck a chord.

“Let’s go, lads.” Hunter ordered with a firmness that turned your head. You knew your squad was on edge with the regs, but Hunter sounded almost angry. He left without another word and his brothers trailed behind shortly after. Crosshair was the last to leave, flicking his toothpick past Jesse, barely missing his face.

Watching them retreat to the makeshift barracks adjacent to the 501st’s, you turned to Jesse, your expression one of exasperation. "What did you do?" you demanded.

Jesse put his hands up innocently, saying, “Not my fault your squad doesn’t like to share.”

Share? Weighing the worth of further questioning him against checking in with the Batch, you grumbled in frustration and pointed a warning finger at your former squadmate, “You’re just as bad.” Not allowing him to get under your skin as well you made for your barracks. 

You walked in on the Batch quietly conversing, standing around Wrecker as he sat on a bottom bunk. Out of the lot, Tech and Wrecker turned slightly to see you walking in their direction. You gave a little wave as you neared. The conversation fell silent the nearer you got, widening your nervous smile. They are not happy, you inwardly groaned

Attempting to break the tension you said in a light tone, “Can’t believe we’re actually sleeping in the barracks.” Pulling up to the corner of Wrecker’s bunk, you leaned against the post, arms crossed. “Echo will be pleasantly surprised.”

Crosshair snorted, “It fits. He’s full of surprises.” His odd response, again, pinched your brows.

Widening your eyes and raising your brows in the awkward moment, you flared your fingers out around your arms. “Well, I’ll just pick a bunk.”

You pushed off the bunk only for Wrecker to catch you by the elbow and tug you into his lap, teetering on his thigh, with a hand at the small of your back.

You twisted in your spot to smile at Wrecker, who was looking unexpectedly bashful. “What’s all this?” They boys had only recently started toeing past physical boundaries, this was a bit of a jump for them. Further trying to dissipate the tension, you rocked into Wrecker with your hip. “Scared of sleeping alone suddenly?”

Wrecker swallowed hard, his eyes darting briefly to his brothers as if seeking support or reassurance.

Maintaining a polite, albeit confused, smile you followed his line of sight.. While Tech kept his nose in his datapad, Crosshair stepped up next to Hunter, prompting the Sergeant to step forward and take a knee in front of you.

Hunter's gaze was heavy as he took a deep breath, then slowly lifted his eyes to meet yours. The intensity there caused you to catch and hold your breath, something going taut between you.

"We've been thinking," Hunter began, his voice cautious, as if testing the waters. His hand gently came to rest over your knee, his touch causing you to straighten instinctively, pressing you further into Wrecker’s lap. Until then, you had almost forgotten your position with Wrecker, but his large hand then settled more firmly around your waist.

The dual sensation of their touches sent a shiver through you, a subtle tremble that Wrecker evidently felt too, eliciting a soft, strained noise from him.

“There’s something we’d like to do for you.” Hunter smiled, his hand sliding north of your knee.

You went stock still, eyes blown wide as Hunter leaned in. You shot a look at Crosshair to find him twirling a toothpick between his fingers with a satisfied smile. Next to him, Tech caught your eyes. Where Hunter’s eyes had stilled you, Tech’s thrilled you. You were happy to be seated with Wrecker, because having Tech’s full attention made you feel weak.

“What’s that?” You asked, voice just above a whisper, as you broke away from Tech to find Hunter still watching you. You heart jumped into your throat when Hunter’s thumb smoothed over your inner thigh.

“Have you ever thought about-” Hunter paused, clearing his throat to cover up his hesitation. Slowly and calmly he started again, “Have you ever thought about spending the night with us?”

“I already-”

“Think a little harder.” Crosshair cut you off with an amused tune. Your eyes snapped to Crosshair and, somehow, the arrogance in his stance filled you in on Hunter’s meaning. Heat flared through you, flushing your face so quickly you knew even your ears were red. 

On more than one occasion you’d found release lost in the fantasy of being the center of their attention. Every time you witnessed them sans armor you had to manually breathe through professionalism.

Again you looked to Hunter, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth with a slow nod. Hunter dipped his head, hiding the way his smile widened. Barely lifting his head, he chuffed and followed up with, “Would you like to spend tonight with us?” 

You were able to swallow the whine in your throat enough to nod another affirmative. Hunter opened his mouth but was interrupted by Tech.

“That will not suffice.” Both you and Hunter looked to Tech for clarification. Tech adjusted his goggles but shook his head. “If this is something you want, you will need to agree to what we are asking verbally.” Your legs squeezed together at Tech’s stern tone.

You felt Hunter’s gaze shift back to you, but you eyes were trained on Tech. A smile, wobbly and excited, fluttered over your lips. “Yes,” Heat pooled between your legs, you squirmed in Wrecker’s lap, and you said. “I want to spend the night the night with you guys.”

Wrecker’s other hand found your side, firming his grip to hold you in place. He laughed through his nerves, “Watch it with that.”

Suddenly, you became very aware of where you were seated in his lap. Pushed back over his knee, just an inch or so from his crotch. If you twisted even the slightest you’d pressed him. With intent, you carefully turned into him to offer a smile. As Wrecker groaned against the pressure of your leg you offered a half-assed apology. 

Wrecker took one look at you and crashed his lips into yours. A moment of shock hit you before your started moving against him, melting into the feel of his tongue against yours. When Wrecker leaned you back and deepened the kiss, a little needy noise escaped you 

It was enough for Crosshair to kick Wrecker’s foot.  “Ease up.” Crosshair. Wrecker did indeed ease up, breaking the kiss and leaving you dazed and panting in his eyes.

“Sorry,” He chuckled, lifting a thumb to wipe your lips dry. “Got a lil excited there.”

All you could manage was a hum as he righted you in his lap. Hunter tilted his head back, his smile turning into a challe, “You sure wanna do this?”

You answered by sliding from Wrecker’s knee onto his, slipping your arms around his neck, and stopping just as your lips hovered over his. Lightly squeezing his thigh between yours, you said on a breath. “I’ll only say it once more. I want this.” Grinding onto him, you added. “Badly.”

Catching his lips in a slow kiss, you moved with his hands as they found your hips and pressed you harder onto his knee. With every brush of your clit against him, an ache, hot and desperate, grew in your core. The sound of shuffling armor only reached you as Hunter tapped your thigh, easing you back into reality. “Let’s get you out of those clothes.”

Eager to continue as quickly as possible, you bounced off of Hunter’s knee to make quick work of your attire. By the time you were down to your underthings they were all down to their blacks in some way. Tech’s was still zipped up, Crosshair and Hunter had theirs stripped to the waist, and Wrecker was stepping out of his. 

Just the sight of them fully dressed was enough to fluster you, finally seeing them bare made you feel downright feral. 

Wrecker stepped over to you, his already erect cock swaying with him. Your mouth went dry at his size, though it was fitting for a man of his stature. He tilted his head with a grin and gestured for the bunk behind you.

As you sat, you came face to face with his massive member before he dropped to a knee. The idea of taking him first, after not having anyone for a long time, thrilled you as much as it intimidated you. A warm body pressed against your back as a pair of long legs, still dressed in black, appeared on either side of you.

Wrecker hooked his fingers into your panties and pulled them off as Tech, in a low tone, said into your ear, “He’s going to warm you up.” 

The chill his voice sent through you hit at the same time Wrecker’s tongue slid over you. Arching into Tech, you whined as Wrecker picked up a steady pace of long flat licks that ended with covering your clit with his mouth. 

Tech wormed a hand between your bodies to discard your bra and give him access to your chest. Gloved hands cupped around your breasts, gently tracing the shape of them before rolling your nipples between his fingers.

Your entire body tensed as Tech played with your nipples. From between your legs, Wrecker chuckled as he slid his middle finger into you, “Oh, she likes that.” The ache Hunter had ignited grew as Wrecker kissed and sucked on your clit while working his finger into you.

“Is it true that you enjoy this?” Tech asked, applying more pressure as you writhed against him.

“Yes,” You barely managed to pant as you quickly reached your peak. “I do, I do, I-”

As you tightened around Wrecker’s finger, he suddenly broke away from you, leaving you empty and at the painful edge of release. “Not yet.” Wrecker left a kiss on your inner thigh as you grabbed to pull him back, only stopped by Tech holding you against him.

“Not yet.” Tech repeated sternly, again stilling you with his voice in your ear.

Wrecker stood as Tech slid out from behind you. Wrecker took his place, positioning you on top of his lap to spread your knees with his. Taking his finger, still wet with you, he traced your slit all the way to your ass. You were starting to tense at the sensation when Wrecker cooed as he slid his finger into you. “Don’t worry, I gotcha.”

Spread wide as Wrecker fingered you, Hunter could see how badly you ached to be filled. With each stroke of Wrecker’s finger, you visibly clenched. Hunter finally released the length of him when you pressed a hand over your mouth to restrain a moan.

Crosshair stepped in to pull your hand away, letting the tail end of your noises loose. “They could hear.” You whined louder than you wanted.

Crosshair held your face in his hand, angling you to face him. With a hand braced on the top bunk, Crosshair leaned down to your eye level. Sucking on a tooth, he smirked as his eyes roamed your writhing form. Meeting your gaze again he gave you a gentle shake as he practically purred, “Then let’s give them something to listen to.”

He’d distracted you enough that Hunter’s sliding into between your legs startled you. Crosshair released your face when Hunter’s cock made contact with you. You leaned forward for a glimpse of him. His swollen head slid over you until he brushed up passed your clit. Precum leaked from him and slid down to mix with your own wetness. Hunter traced you a few times before he tipped your chin up. 

Lined up with you, Hunter asked, “Ready?” Wrecker buried his finger in you as they both waited for your answer.

“Hunter, please.” You quickly whined, bracing your hand on his shoulders, truly desperate to be filled with him.

Hunter leaned in and rolled his hips into you, slowly breaching you until he was completely inside. “You feel,” Huntered groaned, “So good.” As he started pulling out, Wrecker timed his fingers with him. 

Standing within reach of you, Crosshair pulled himself free of his blacks as he watched on. Your attention only pulled away from where you and Hunter were joined when you caught sight of Crosshair stroking himself.

Your noises grew in volume as the Hunter and Wrecker filled you over and over. Only a few strokes in and your toes were already curlling. Feeling your sudden grip, Hunter fully sheathed himself in you as Wrecker left you empty.

“You good?” Hunter asked in a strained voice as he throbbed within you.

You nodded, a blissful smile flashing over you. “Really good.” 

Beneath you, Wrecker squirmed to reposition himself, even raising you out of his way as he did. You heard Wrecker spit but couldn’t tell what on. Hunter pulled you against him for support as Wrecker pressed up against your ass and slid over its entrance. You tried to whip around but Hunter held you firm. 

Pressing a kiss into your neck, Hunter mumbled, “Tell us to stop and we will.”

While Wrecker waited, throbbing against you, Hunter lightly rocked his hips, moving just enough to rub into your cervix. You watched Crosshair’s head angle to get a view of your ass, then your heaving chest, before settling back on your eyes. He continued stroking himself, smirk growing as a needy expression flooded you. 

You swallowed hard when precum spilled out of Crosshair’s cock. “Keep going.” You moaned, granting Wrecker the permission to pull you down onto him. Your body went taught when the flare of his glans pushed past your threshold. Inhaling, you whined and waited for more of Wrecker.

You only waited a second longer before you were grinding yourself over him, not only taking more of Wrecker but grinding farther onto Hunter. “That’s a good girl.” Wrecker sighed happily as he leaned back on one hand and supported your ass as you moved over him. 

The two of them had you completely filled, stretching you in a way that made you see stars. You knew you’d never be the same after feeling this. Hunter angled your hips enough that each thrust pushed into your G-spot. Each of their thrusts had you whimpering louder as you felt the ache in your core tighten.

Giving your ass cheek a firm grasp, Wrecker’s head fall back in ecstacy. It took everything in him to not move faster and push harder into you. He wanted to feel you make you come completely undone around him, break apart for him even, but he sat back and let you pleasure yourself on him.

Eyes still on Crosshair, you extended an open hand to him, urging him closer. The sniper snorted but obliged you, giving you full access to his body. Resting back on Wrecker, you let Hunter take over the rhythm as you pulled Crosshair closer. 

Swiping a thumb over Crosshair’s slit, his precum spilled over you. Crosshair ran a hand over your hair and around to your jawline. “Of course that’s not enough for you,” Crosshair mused. His cock, thick in your hand, had a small patch of silver hair at its base you brushed as you pumped your hand over him.

Each deliberate move of your hand challenged Crosshair’s composure. He clenched his jaw to hide the pleasure he felt. His resolve cracked as his eyes fluttered and he leaned in to your grasp.

The rare sight of Crosshair’s softened features made you whimper and writhe in Hunter’s hold. Your tightening grip rushed Hunter to his limit. He rested his forehead in the crook of your neck. “Mesh’la, keep doing that and I won’t last much longer.” 

Allowing himself a few shallow thrusts, Wrecker groaned, “I’m right there too.” He’d barely gotten the words out when Wrecker groaned loudly, pumping hard into you as he throbbed and lost control.

Hunter picked up his pace until he quickly pulled out and, a second later, coated you in cum. His hips kept rocking against you, rubbing over your clit and fueling the ache in your core. “Right there, right there.” You encouraged him as he kept moving over you until completely emptied himself. 

With Wrecker still throbbing inside you, paired with the sudden pressure on your clit, your orgasm hit you hard. It wracked your body until your legs quivered. Fucked into an euphoric state, you leaned towards Crosshair, still aching for pleasure. You’d never dreamt this would be a reality and you were quickly becoming greedy. 

“Easy now,” Wrecker murmured and, as gently as he could, eased out of you. Without him and Hunter, you felt emptier than ever before. 

Hunter scooted back enough to sit back on his knees, panting and pushing his hair back out of his face. He watched as Wrecker pressed a kiss to your shoulder and helped you crawl over his legs to face Crosshair.

Prying your mouth open with a thumb, Crosshair hummed down to you, “If you want a taste, you better do it quickly.” A chill ran down your spine as Crosshair pulled you by your mouth, guiding you to the tip of his cock. 

You stuck your tongue out to swirl around his head. He hissed as you eagerly took him into your mouth, bobbing over him and swiping your tongue side to side as you did. As promised, Crosshair only allowed you a small taste of him before pulling you off him.

He knelt to your eye level, crouching on the balls of his feet, to ask, “Do you want more?” 

Your brows pulled together and a lazy smile lifted your lips. “I want you, Crosshair.”

Crosshair stilled for a moment, something striking a chord in him. His eyes quickly scanned yours before he caught your lips in a fast, hurried kiss. He broke the kiss just enough to murmur against your lips, “On your knees.”

The sniper helped you to your feet and got you onto the neighboring bunk. He guided you onto your hands and knees, facing his brothers. There was no teasing nor dragging out the moment. No, Crosshair immediately lined himself up with you, leaned over to cage you in his arms, and whispered, “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.” 

In one smooth thrust, Crosshair buried himself inside of you, immediately taking up a steady pace as he fucked you into the bunk. Crosshair draped himself over you, sneaking a hand around you and right to the apex of your thighs. 

“Incoming.” Tech chimed from across the room. 

Crosshair held you in place as the barracks door swooshed open and Echo walked in. A drop of panic hit your stomach when Echo’s sweeping look found you. Confused, horror overtook the cyborg and as he hurried over.

Nearly stumbling over Hunter, still regaining his composure on the floor, Echo ripped around to you. “Crosshair, what do you think you are doing?!”

Crosshair pushed off of you, straightening to posture over you and face Echo. Using your hips as leverage, Crosshair slowed his pace and confidently answered, “Whatever what she wants.”

Echo’s expression went stunned as he knelt in front of you. Slightly dazed, flushed, and cum covered, you tucked your face into the mattress in a rush of embarrassment. Still, you whined each time Crosshair’s hips hit yours. 

Echo reached a concerned hand out, encouraging you to lift yourself again. His eyes searched yours, but you were too far gone to do anything but reach for the man in front of you. You ran your hand as far down Echo’s torso as you could and turned to press a kiss into his palm. “Echo.” His name came out on a moan that brought heat to his cheeks. 

“Looks like there is something else she wants.” Crosshair chuckled behind you. He leaned back over you, bringing his mouth to your ear but holding Echo’s stare. “Why don’t you tell Echo what you want?”

You could barely think through Crosshair’s relentless thrusting and the rhythm of his fingers. “Echo.” His eyes slid to you to catch you kissing his hand again. “I want to taste you.” Licking the length of his hand, you wrapped your mouth around his forefinger.

Echo had been growing hard from the moment he saw your bare skin until the softness of your mouth got him instantly hard. Glancing between you, Echo kept an eye on the hand still reaching for him and slowly brought his hips to meet your touch.

As you pried off his codpiece with one hand, Echo assisted in pulling himself out of his underlayer. 

You pulled Echo by his thigh so that he overshadowed your face. Starting at his base, where his balls met his shaft, you flattened your tongue and ran it up the length of him. Reaching his tip, you steadied him with your hand. 

Echo mumbled under a grunt as you moved your mouth over him, “Oh, stars.” 

The taste of Echo narrowed your focus on him, seeking to hear his pleasure. When Crosshair heard your own muffled moans, felt them with his chest against your back, he lifted off you. He traced a finger down your spine, feeling you arch into his touch as he went.

Echo was still adjusting to the reality he’d walked into when you started working your hand in tandom with your mouth. His hand flew to your head, his fingers threading into your hair. He couldn’t help himself as he kept his hand firm and met your rhythm with his own. You slackened into him as he pushed against the back of your throat.

The way you twitched around Crosshair, pulled a moan from him. Sensing your little struggle as you tried to take more of Echo, Crosshair again reached for your clit. “Relax.” He whispered as his hand made lazy circles around you.

Sliding off of Echo you swallowed and looked up to find him watching you with wide eyes and mouth slightly open. You didn’t look away as you opened wider and took him into your mouth. With a deep breath you relaxed as best you could and pushed him to the back of your throat. Moaning around him you pressed on until you felt him squeeze down your throat.

A moan, breathless and low, finally escaped Echo and he held you fast against him. The sounds you’d worked so hard for twisted that familiar ache in your core. Your eyes watered against the pressure as his cock twitched in your throat. You tasted him spilling inside you as he came undone. 

Crosshair grunted, shuddering as you clenched down on him. Unwilling to finish before you did, Crosshair focused his touch on your clit into light, fast strokes.

You tapped Echo repeatedly until he pulled his softening cock out of you. Gasping for air your fell onto your elbows, head hanging over the side of the bunk. Face down, ass up you sounded on the verge of tears as you warbled, “Cross, I can’t. I’m gonna-”

His thrusts become long, slow, and angled right into the soft spot inside you. “Go on then.” Crosshair urged you on. “We all want to hear you.”

The low tone of his voice finished you. Your eyes rolled back and you cried out as you lost yourself in Crosshair’s hold. He continued pushing you through your release as long as he could until Crosshair had to pull out. Gripping your hips tight, he thrust one final time against you and sent ropes of his cum down your back. In the throws of his own pleasure, his groans matched yours in volume.

It took a few moments for your both to settle back into the present. Your legs were so weak that you were at Crosshair’s mercy to keep you upright. He felt you relax and sag into his him, prompting him to gently lay you to rest on your side. He brushed your hair out of your face, letting you look up at him without moving your head.

He watched you pant a second longer, swallowed and asked, “You okay?”

A little smile came to you. You coughed out an affirmative hum, and warmly croaked, “More than okay.”

Echo came around to your side, looking over you with concern. “What can we do?”

“Relax.” Hunter, already half dressed, came behind Echo and gestured casually towards another area. “Tech’s on it.” His gaze softened as he smiled down at you over Echo’s shoulder. “You really are something.”

His praise sent a wave of warmth through you, though you could only muster a pleasant hum in response, your energy still recovering.

“Tech’s gonna help you get cleaned up. That okay with you?” Hunter waved someone, presumably Tech, over. 

Taking a deep breath, you raised onto your elbow. Tech was indeed inbound carrying some supplies and still full dressed. Suddenly you felt as bare as you were. You couldn’t look away, but gave Hunter the nod he and Crosshair needed to step away.

“C’mon boys, let’s give her some privacy.”

Echo looked you over once more, nodded and followed his brothers lead.

Soon it was just you and Tech in the quiet. For most of what happened, you’d lost track of Tech. Who had, by the looks of it, had steered completely clear of the scene.

Tech settled down next to you, placing a stack of necessities beside your head—clothes, towels, all topped with a bowl of water. You pushed yourself up to a sitting position with one hand, inspecting the items he had brought. “Thank you,” you mumbled shyly, the simple kindness in his preparation bringing some softness you very much needed.

“Sit up.” Tech instructed as he brought the water closer. You followed his order, positioning yourself with your back slightly turned. Looking over your shoulder, you watched Tech dip a small towl in the water before bringing it to your shoulder.

The towel was cool against your flushed skin. Jumping you said through a chill, “That’s cold, Tech.”

“You do not want warm water for this.” Tech said matter-of-factly. “Heat will denature the proteins in the se-”

“Oh! I didn’t know that.” You said quickly, cutting him off while also doing terrible job at covering your embarassment.

Tech rotated between wiping your back and ringing out the towel. When silence again fell over you, Tech asked softly. “Are you in any pain?”

You thought for a moment, doing a mental sweep of your body, and replied, “No, I’m okay.” You squeezed your eyes shut hearing yourself stuttering your words.

Tech immediately questioned you again, “Are you having regrets?”

You flinched to turn around, but kept your back to him. “No.” You replied softly. It went quiet again as Tech did a final swipe of your back.

“Now turn around.” Tech swapped out the towel for a fresh one as you slowly turned to face him. 

Again, Tech dampened the cloth and brought it to your skin, the cool touch hitching your breath. As his hands carefully wiped your skin, he observed your slow, controlled breathing. His eyes darted to yours. 

“You are uncharacteristically silent.” Tech noted bluntly with no follow up theory as to why.

Shoving your nerves to a manageable level, you blurted out, “Why didn’t you join?”

Tech’s hand stilled, but he kept your gaze for a beat. Moving to dampen the towel, he followed it with his eyes. He shrugged, saying, “Not really my thing.”

Your stomach dropped at his simple dismissal. Under your breath you said, “Oh.” 

You kept watching Tech as he brought the towel back to your chest. When it came time to wipe your breast, Tech found your gaze again. He flattened his hand under the cloth and ran his whole hand over your breast, his thumb catching on your nipple.

A brazen surg hit you and you pushed, “So, I’m not really your thing?”

Tech pulled back slightly with his hand wiping you. Raising a brow he asked cautiously, “My thing?”

Despite slightly regretting your line of questioning, your fingers fidgeted together as you clarified, “As in, you’re not interested in being with me.”

His wariness faded as he focused back on his work, again rinsing the towel. “That… is not entirely accurate.” He lowered the towel down between your breasts to your stomach. He wore a cocky smile as he said, “Besides, something such as after care requires a more delicate touch.”

You caught his hand before he made it to your navel. “Then what would be entirely accurate?”

Tech looked up through his goggles, his lip pulling to the side as he weighed what to say next. He wanted to make sure he was indeed being entirely accurate as he confessed, “I’m not interested in being with you in the company of others.”

His insinuation caught you off guard. Sitting a little more upright, your angled your head for a better view of those brown eyes. “So… you do want me?”

Tech’s head sagged slightly as he deadpanned. “Well, of course I do.” In your surprise, you released Tech’s hand and allowed him to finish wiping you down.

Steeling yourself against the warmth following his touch, you prodded further, “What if it was just you and I?”

Missing the subtlety behind you question, Tech simply replied, “That would be different for me.”

“It’s just you and I now, Tech,” You reminded him, voice barely above a whisper.

He was mid rinse when he heard you. The thought caused him to pause only for a moment before he wrung the towel out and turned back to you. Tech didn’t move to touch you. Instead, he muttered, “I did consider that, but I was not certain such an arrangment would interest you.”

Unable to let the chance pass, you grabbed Tech’s wrist again and flat out admitting, “It very much interests me.”

His attention fell to your hold on him for a moment. Gently he pulled out of your hand, moving the cool towel between your legs. Leaning closer as the fabric met your skin, Tech asked, “Does it interest you right now?”

“Well, of course it does.” You repeated his words in an impression of him. He hadn’t anticipated the sudden playfulness in your voice, but it brought a small smile to Tech.

Carefully, he wiped you clean, noting the movement in your face as he found every sensitive bit. When he was satisifed with his work, Tech set all the items he brought on the floor. He sat in front of you, one leg over the side of the bunk, and adjusted his goggles as he took in the full view of you. “You are beautiful," He marveled.

You got to your knees and scooted closer. With bated breath you asked what you've wanted to for weeks, “Can I kiss you?”

Tech blinked once, then twice before responding, “Given the circumstances, that wouldn’t be unwarranted.” There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice that forced a smile from you.

Your reaction pulled a mirrored smile from Tech that had crawling into his lap. With no restraint, you moved in to kiss him. Pecking him with feverish kisses, Tech quickly relaxed into your rhythm to deepen the sensation. It seemed he'd been waiting just as long as you.

His hands slid around to your back and tugged you against him. You held Tech’s face in your hands and ran your tongue across his bottom lip. It took little coaxing for Tech to give you access to his mouth, eagerly meeting your tongue with his.

You sat intertwined, blissfully lost in the taste of each other and comfortable in each other’s hold. Tech hardened beneath you and the angle your were sat on Tech had your crotch directly against his. The realization hit you both at the same time as started moving against one another.

The friction of his blacks made the pressure between your legs that much more mind numbing. Moaning into your kiss, you retreated a fraction with Tech chasing your lips. “Get out of this.” You managed to say.

Tech straightened himself while keeping you in his lap and his mouth on yours. Without breaking away from you, he peeled out of his blacks. Only when he couldn’t budge them farther did Tech pull away. You both were desperate for air, but more desperate for each other.

Dodging Tech’s hands, you helped him the rest of the way out of the clothing and hurried back into his lap. Tech leaned back against the bed post when you were saddled on top of him. With Tech’s assistance you raised yourself over him. The natural curve of his cock allowed you to line up with him without your hands. 

You tried to lower yourself, but Tech’s hand on your ass held you in place. “May I record this?”

Without question you nodded. After he tapped the side of his goggles, he returned your nod and released his hold on you. 

As soon as he eased up you sunk onto him. The sudden fullness of him immediately brightening your smile. Tech firmed his grip on your back, pulling you and your clit against his abdomen. “I’d like you to start slow.”

You gave in to his request, supporting yourself on his shoulders as you patiently rolled your hips. He had you pressed against him in a way that constantly stimulated you, sending more warmth between your legs. When he felt what it did to you, heard his name on your tongue, he started moving beneath you, saying almost in warning, “I’m going to move faster.”

Tech was stronger than you'd imagined, effortlessly sliding you over him and thrusting into you from below. The pace at which you moved against each other, completely intertwined, quickly sent you into delirium. He pressed against you in every way, against the walls of your pussy and the ache in your clit. By the grip you had on Tech, there was no hiding your rising ecstasy.

“That-” Tech grunted out, leaning you further so you were completely against him. “Must feel good.” His tone was confident, arrogant even and it made you want to fuck him until he couldn’t speak.

Still, your new position gave Tech the leverage he needed to find your G-spot. As he grazed it, you cried out his name, encouraging him to maintain that specific angle. “Tech! Keep going right there, please.” Your encouragement ended in pleading.

Doing exactly as you asked, Tech held you in place and drilled into you. Keeping a careful, steady rhythm that in moments took you right to the edge of an orgasm and shoved you right over.

You couldn’t speak as you shook in Tech’s arms. Every inch of you quaked as a softer wave of heat spread through you. Lolling against Tech, he held you close and he rocked you both forward.

Still seated inside you, Tech rested you onto your back with your legs hooked behind him. Turning your cheek with a kiss, Tech exposed your neck. He pumped into you while he trailed kisses to your ear.

“This is the only way I’ll have you.” Tech purred into your ear. You locked your ankles and pulled Tech deeper inside you. Tech noticably throbbed and chuckled softly, “That is not going to help me last.”

You used your legs as leverage to move over him, humming, “Good, I don’t want you to.”

Tech pulled back to flash you smirk. “In that case…” He rested a elbow by your head, held you by your waist and pulled out to thrust back into you. “I’m already close. You need to tell me where you want me.”

Feeling him deep inside you made it an easy decision. You pressed him with another kiss as you said, “Inside.”

Tech rocked hard into you, thoroughly filling you as he came inside you. The two of you settled into each other, spent and panting through mutual trembling. 

“Well,” Tech took a deep breath and pushed up over you. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

After all the heat died down and you were all in fresh clothes, you laid out on your cot with an arm over your eyes. In their respective cots, Crosshair and Echo lounged on the edge of sleep while Wrecker and Hunter and Tech were quietly chatting.

Before the night ended you had one last relentless question.

Popping up on an elbow, you looked towars the still awake men. “Hunter?” You singled out the leader. Once you caught his eye you asked, “What caused all that?” The silence that fell pulled a suspicious smile from you.

With his back to you, Crosshair snorted, broadening your smile. You laughed and asked again, “What?” 

Wrecker groaned, rolling his head back. “It was the regs.”

Echo immediately perked up, twisting to exchange a look with you. “What about them?” Echo asked warily.

Hunter sighed, “Jesse told us about how they used to…” He took a deep breath and rolled his hand as he continued, “Make you happy, let’s say.”

“And Echo knew.” Wrecker grumbled.

“Wait-” You and Echo tried interjecting, but Tech cut in.

“Not to mention you said how you wouldn’t get any sleep with them.”

When the dots connected for you, you covered your mouth, hung open, with a hand but couldn’t back the laugh that bubbled out of you. 

From his cot, Echo covered his face with a groan, “Oh, no.”

Even Crosshair now sat up, exchanging confused looks with Tech, Wrecker, and Hunter.

Crosshair glanced at you and with an annoyed undertone he asked, “What?” He clearly did not like being on the outside of whatever you and Echo knew.

You shook your head and couldn’t fully answer through your laughter. “I never…”

Echo waved his prosthetic in the direction of the wall shared with the 501st. “We never did any of that. Jesse was just getting under your skin.” He groaned again, looking upwards and  begging the Force for help. Gesturing in your direction he added, “And we wouldn’t get any sleep because they’d never stop yapping.”

You took deep breaths to settle down as Crosshair started chuckling. 

“In retrospect, that is the more plausible option.” Tech said, shocked Jesse got the better of him. 

Collapsing on your bunk, you called out warmly, “For the record, I am much happier as a part of this squad.”

Crosshair got the last word in, scoffing the last of his humor away, “Better be.”

taglist: @bruh-myguy-what @baddest-batchers @psychrebel I hope specifically hope this makes you happy

[fev3rish]

THREE ISN’T A CROWD. ami wakita x reader x kenji sato (2.7k words)

In which Ami and Kenji find a piece of their hearts in you.

warnings. reader is a college graduate (23ish), emi appears only briefly in this and doesn’t interact with reader. i finished this in one day and barely proofread it. notes. no one: me, ( @victoirey ) after returning to tumblr after almost a year in hiatus, with a new alias and a new account: hey y'all...

but really i do hope y'all enjoy this little comeback!! I watched Ultraman completely sleep deprived, so i’m real sorry if there are any errors !! YOU HAVE ALL NEGLECTED AMI WAKITA TOO MUCH. I am taking my seat as the first person to ever post an x reader that included her 🙏 reblogs appreciated more than likes! let me know what you think!

it starts with Kenji & Ami. The tension between them is too strong to cover up as just friendly, and against his better judgment, Kenji can be a weak, weak man. Ami is as beautiful as she is elegant and kind. she’s also irresistible. So, Kenji asks her out on a date.

They go together well. Ami is a caring girlfriend, & Kenji, although a busybody—is a sweetheart to her. Their relationship is stable for the most part, and while Kenji does have trouble communicating, Ami is everlastingly patient.

five months into their relationship, Ami meets you.

You are just stepping into the real world, having graduated college a month ago and starting things off slowly. She remembers you, you interned at the company she worked for. You had done well—and they had requested to have you work full-time.

You were as competent as she expected; having been asked to take you under her wing until you were skilled enough to become a senior journalist like she was, she threw you into the career mercilessly. Maybe it was on purpose, maybe it wasn’t—but Ami had good intentions. She had expectations for you.

You exceeded them.

When Ami first took you under her wing, she expected you to have a hard time adjusting. You did, make no mistake, but not for long. It seems you just naturally coordinated well with her—it kind of pissed her off. You were so good at your job, and you were both such a good team. She can only imagine how much better you’d be once you finally became a senior journalist. 

“Ms. Ami?” She jolted in her seat. Her eyes scanned around the room for who called, and her eyes landed on you. Ah, yes. That’s right, she’d asked you to fetch some of the papers she printed from the printing room a couple of minutes ago. She smiled kindly, welcoming you in.

“Your papers.” “Thank you.”

As you handed her papers over, Ami’s eyes landed on your hands. She didn’t know what came over her.  She shook your hands the first time she met you, she’s given you high fives before, so why did it feel different now? Why was there a spark so suddenly?

—And as she indulged in her own selfish desires, letting her hand caress yours as you handed her the papers, why did she want it to last longer? You left the room, smiling at her one last time. Her eyes creased as she smiled back, but you never had the chance to see it. She wishes you did. Would you have reacted to it? Why did she care so much? Ami gulped nervously.

This was a problem. Ami’s growing feelings were a big, big problem. You had her wrapped around your finger, and you didn’t even know. Kenji was clueless. Ami wanted to keep it that way; she loved Kenji the same way she always did after all: infinitely.

Polyamory wasn’t new to her, but it also was. She’s known of it, she’s known how it worked, courtesy of a boring day, free will, and Google—she didn’t know she would actually be considering getting into it!

It gnawed at her, and she refused to get into it with anyone. Even her darling boyfriend, who noticed, and asked about it. Ami shut down any attempt to ask what was wrong with a newly discovered fire, saying that she wasn’t ready to talk about it. She wasn’t. 

Besides, Kenji had a scheduled interview with you in two hours! He had better things to worry about. 

Kenji was used to reporters trying to get his attention.

That’s how he met his love, Ami. She wormed her way into his heart and showed him what balance meant, and unknowingly, she also helped him with Emi. He owed Ami more than she knew, and he was planning on paying that debt in full—hopefully, she would accept payment in love. 

Kenji is head over heels for his girl by the time you enter the picture, and he sits down with you for an interview. 

It was an idea Ami put into your head, and you set to work—shyly asking the woman if she could schedule you for an interview with the athlete. You wanted to exceed your own expectations for yourself, and you thought that a face-to-face interview with a (truthfully, intimidating) athlete would get you there. Ami grinned once you opened up to her about it, and she agreed.

So now, here you were.

twiddling your thumbs and clicking your pen, you waited for the famous Kenji Sato to arrive at the table you had reserved. You didn’t know when you started spacing out, but when you snapped back in—he was already in front of you, awaiting your next move. The pen you clicked was gripped with such fervor as you tried to collect yourself, sheer shock filling your veins because how could you just space out like that—

“You’re going to interview me, yeah?” The star had asked, and you swallowed the blockage in your throat, flustered. “Yes, yes, Mr. Sato—“ You blurted out, obviously unprepared. 

Kenji would never admit it, but he thought it was cute. It was really, really cute. You could say your own embarrassment charmed him, with how he spoke to you in response. His tone was calm, soft; friendly. “Hey, hey—loosen up, it’s all good. It’s nice to meet you.” 

Your mouth went dry. He only smiled even more, and before you knew it—as if his inner peace was contagious, you breathed in and out. Then, you smiled back. “It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Sato.” You had replied, “I take it Ms. Ami has filled you in on me, yes?” He nodded, and that’s where it all truly began.

You had cracked a joke, and he cracked up. You had asked such deep questions, ones that made it seem like you weren’t trying to garner answers from the Baseball Star Kenji Sato, but rather from just Kenji Sato himself. It was refreshing. His posture slouched as he joked around with you, and it was then he realized why Ami and you seemed to get along so well. You were…for lack of a better word, you were pleasant to be around.

Kenji only got closer to you. It seemed like you were everywhere he & Ami were, and wherever you were—you indulged in nice little conversations. Most of the time, he really only planned on saying hi—and most of the time, he and his girl just caved and started gossiping with you for a good thirty minutes.

Ami & Kenji had shared their personal numbers with you by the fifth time you three ran into each other, and eventually, you started hanging out outside of your own professions. Informal hangouts, at the most spontaneous of places. Kenji & Ami, who had recently revealed they were dating you—basically adopted you. Think of it like the “mama y papa” audio, but it’s you recording—and the other two are being mama and papa.

Of course, fate works in confusing ways. You ended up in a conflicting situation.

You noticed things you didn’t even notice about yourself, like how Kenji’s smile was a bit lopsided when he laughed but only around you two, or how Ami’s eyes sparkled most whenever you were hanging out in the local cinema and the light landed on her just right.

Your love for them did not hit you like a truck. It was like you knew. It was a pat on your shoulder, just to catch your attention. It did.

It gnawed at you like it did Ami.

Kenji, unlike the two of you, was positively clueless to the point that it was almost cute, as irritating as it was. He didn’t know he felt some type of way about you, he just thought the blush that formed in his cheeks was because of the fact Ami was near, not because you laughed so shamelessly and so prettily at a joke he came up with. 

He loved Ami a lot, almost to the point it suffocated him, and he still did when he started feeling that same way about you. That’s when he realized. He realized that maybe, he liked you; but he was so confused. He had Ami, and he felt the same way about her, so why did he feel the same way about you?

It was then a thought went into his head. He likes Ami, and she has a suite reserved for her in his heart—but what if that suite was built for two?

Fortunately, when that thought comes into his head, Ami enters his bedroom and finally asks him to talk.

Unfortunately, it is one of the rare situations Ami doesn’t know how to begin, and Kenji is an amateur communicator.

“So.” Ami clicked her tongue. “So?” Kenji tilted his head, resting his chin on his closed fist as he sat on the edge of his bed— Ami right next to him, although the woman could not even look in his direction. Ami poked the inside of her cheek with her tongue, uncharacteristically unsure. She sighed and then started. “Them.”

Them.

You. Ami meant you. Kenji knew that from the get-go, it was always you, you, you. You were their soft spot, as much as they were each other’s soft spot. And you didn’t even know.

“What about them?” Kenji replied. Ami sucked in a breath and placed her hand over Kenji’s own. “I… I want—“ Ami stammered, scared; how would Kenji react? “I want to love them. I want them as much as I wanted to love, and still want to love, you.” Ami whispered. Kenji looked at his Ami, and he sighed, but it wasn’t in disbelief. No, instead, he was relieved. He looked at Ami and responded, “Me too.”  

“Si- What? Since when?” The woman stammered. “Since they laughed at my joke that one time last month when we hung out at the festival.” He replied, not facing her but smiling nonetheless. “How about you?” He inquired.

“Since they delivered the papers I asked them to pick them up from the printing room,” Ami replied, still shocked. Kenji just laughed, sprawling himself out on the bed. Ami looked down on him, “Do you… Have you heard of polyamorous relationships? Of throuples?”

“Of course I have. It wasn’t really a common sight back in America, but it also wasn’t rare to just look at a group of people and go, ‘Oh, they definitely have group cuddles at night.’ “ Kenji laughed, and Ami scoffed.

“…Well, do you wanna try it out?”  She bit her lip, trying to test the waters. “With them, I mean.” Kenji looked at Ami, then at the ceiling. Then, back at Ami—and back to the ceiling. “Well, fuck.” He groaned,but Ami could hear the crack of a smile. “It wouldn’t hurt, right?”

Ami shook her head. “I don’t think so. Not if it’s them.”

“You’re so corny.”

Ami & Kenji invited you out the following week, and three hours before the prior hangout, they were both freaking out over how to properly ask you about it. Mina had to intervene a bit. They were disturbing Chiho, after all.  

With bated breath and flowers in both of their palms, they watched as you walked into the restaurant and greeted them. You slid into the empty booth, sitting across from them as you questioned why they had decided to meet you here so suddenly.

Ami wanted to slowly guide you into it, but Kenji wanted you to join as soon as possible. He interrupted his girlfriend, blurting out how they ‘wanted you to be their girlfriend because you’re really cool and would fit right in’

Ami looked at him like he had grown two heads. You fixed your collar as you processed his words in shock, and then—finally, you quietly accepted.

“I’d like that.” You whispered before Ami could tear through Ken. Their heads snapped in your direction, Ami’s eyes widened beyond belief and Kenji with the biggest grin you had ever seen him don. “Are you serious? Are— Are you certain?” Ami nagged. You shrugged and nodded. “I mean, I’ve... I’ve liked,” You really, truly, and utterly meant love—but that.. was scary. “I’ve liked you two for a while now—and if you’ll have me, I’d love to join your relationship.” You concluded. Kenji’s grin got impossibly wider, “So it was that easy?!” He exclaimed, and Ami smacked him upside the head. You laughed. Kenji did too, & Ami’s eyes creased the way you always loved, as a bright smile made its way to her face too. She looked at you, a bit unsure, but nonetheless determined.

“We’re all new to this. Let’s take it slow, okay?” You nodded. Kenji only raised his hand and went, “Waiter! Can we get some drinks in here? For a celebration!” 

Looking at Kenji’s toothy smile, and Ami’s content expression, you perked up. You had waited for your turn at the rollercoaster of love, and now you were buckled in. It would be a hell of a ride.

Ami and Kenji will run you ragged (positive) adapting to their love languages. Kenji is very physical, he likes to give you two back hugs, and he does them way too often than he should. Ami, however, is more of a quiet lover, but you know she loves you. Your proof? The fact she orders for you and gets it right all the time, the way there’s always food made when Kenji and you sleep in—and the tender way your hair is combed when you first sleep in the same bed as them.

Her love language is acts of service if you couldn’t tell.

Ami & Kenji, in contrast to other throuples, usually schedule dates where all three of you can spend time with each other. They want to spend as much time with you as they can, both being as busy as they can be—with Kenji being a part of the Giants and also literally Ultraman, and Ami being a renowned journalist, there is not a day where they yearn for you three to reunite once more. Of course, while Kenji is busy—Ami and you always cuddle, and vice versa, but they truly prefer three-way dates. Triple the love, Kenji says.

When you met Chiho, she put her Ultraman mask on you first thing. You laughed and placed it back onto her head—stating that she fit it much better than you did. Kenji joined in, too. The two of you played with Chiho, not knowing that Ami, in her study, was watching over you three: love clouded her eyes as she watched Kenji lift Chiho up, her Ultraman mask on, as you, the ‘villain’, cowered in fear of the mighty superhero she was.

Chiho clung to the three of you like glue after that. All she knew was that Mr. Kenji and Mama loved you as much as they loved each other. That was enough for her to love you even more.

You and Ami aren’t that stupid. You both know who Ultraman truly is—you both know what Kenji’s hiding. even if you aren’t admitting it. You just both remember to shower him with a little more love when he takes a nastier beating.

It takes Kenji five months to finally confirm it, though. He says he’s Ultraman and he can’t even look you both in the eyes. His pretty skin is bruised, and his eye is beaten black. You and Ami look at each other, then at him.

The two of you treat him tenderly, an ice bath having been prepared. He swears he’s in heaven when he sees his two sweethearts lean over the bathtub to give him kisses—a kiss from you on the left, and a kiss from Ami on the right. He asks you both to join him and you shut him down. Boyfriend or not, an ice bath is an ice bath… and an ice bath is freakishly, freakishly cold.

That same night, you lure Kenji into bed, Ami already tucked into the blankets as she opens up Netflix and smiles at the two of you. Kenji takes his place in the middle, ready to be coddled because the Lord knows he needs it with how stressed he is.

You place a hand on his chest to give him a kiss on the forehead, and Ami rests her head on his shoulder. Kenji can’t even focus on the movie, he can only focus on the two of you. He wonders if the two of you feel the same way he does; he already has his answer: Yes.

He feels so loved.

[liveontelevision]

Quick Fix | Alastor X Reader

My first smut! This was harder than i expected 🥲 let me know what y'all think <3

Preview:

"You Asshole!! What were you thinking?? What made you think you could beat a fucking exorcist without an angelic weapon? Let alone, Adam!" You were pacing back and forth in the half lounge/half swamp room. The radio demon sat on the cushioned chair by the green-flamed fireplace. He seems completely unphased, not exactly angry or sad, just empty.

"You may be strong, Alastor, but know your fucking limits! Fuck!" You scolded him, looking in his direction every so often, hoping for some kind of response. Anger, guilt, anything.

•••

You became close with Alastor after appearing in the hotel just weeks before the battle on extermination day. After constantly complaining about being bored, the demon was finally sick of it. He let you sit in during his broadcasts, have morning tea with him, and eventually become a part of his daily routine. You were less whiney when preoccupied, Alastor told you, as a way to cover his enjoyment of having you nearby wherever he went. You became closer after time due to your constant questioning. He told you small things, like the type of jazz he enjoyed, specific whiskeys he liked while alive, and his plans for upcoming broadcasts.

He was too stubborn to admit this was anything beyond wanting occasional company. And you were too dense to really notice his soft blushes that would creep across his cheeks whenever you gave him a quick hug, or how he would lay his hand overtop yours when your arms were linked, or the occasional sweet smiles that he'd adorn while looking at you.

Putting the obvious feelings aside, you became incredibly concerned hearing that Alastor volunteered to take care of Adam during the upcoming war. You did what you could during the battle, mainly shielding yourself from oncoming attacks and leading exterminators to those who were equipped to land the final strike. Occasionally, you'd notice some small black and white stitched dolls running around and taking out exterminators that you didn't notice. One's that would've surely killed you. All you could do was shelter yourself from the slaughter after the shield cracked around the hotel. You didn't get a chance to even process everything until the battle had finally ended.

No one had seen Alastor for days while renovating the hotel, only appearing once the grand opening arrived. He was chipper and devious, like usual, acting completely normal (or however normal looks on a radio demon) around everyone. He would attempt to tease you, but you were quick to dismiss him, or turn your back, or simply walk away.

When chasing around Niffty one night, after she managed to steal your jacket with the smallest stain, you turn a corner and smack right into Alastor's chest. You hold in your gasp, straining your neck to look the demon in the eyes.

"Alastor! S-sorry, see, Niffty took my jacket and i think she went that way, so i starting running and-" your quick words were immediately silenced once you saw him hunch over, holding himself up with a hand on his knee, the other gripping tightly onto his chest.

"Alastor, what's wrong? Hey, talk to me! Al, please..!" You hovered around him, noticing a small stain of blood form on his suit. Your eyes were quick to well up with tears, assuming that wound was your fault. He lifted his head to see your sorry state and quickly stood straight. He acted as if he wasnt just hunched over in pain, "Come my dear, i assure you this has nothing to do with you. No need to worry your little head." He spoke sweetly, patting your head, as if the blood stain wasnt slowly spreading across his suit.

It didn't take long for you to question and pester him into letting you follow him to his room. Just for tea, he clarified. He routinely hung up his coat as he entered his room, taking a heavy seat in his chair. You refused to say anything in that moment. You had nothing to say to him. He needed to explain himself to you. You held your cup in your hands, watching him casually drink his tea, simply ignoring the large stain across his shirt. He finally let out a sigh, wanting to end this awkward silence.

"I seemed to have taken some damage during my battle with Adam. I was quick to make the right decision, and left the battle." He shrugged off the statement as if it were no big deal. "And clearly it was the proper response, I would hate to get in the way of Lucifer's battle." He hissed out the king's name, scowling at the thought of him finishing Adam off himself.

He widened his eyes in your direction, hearing the shatter of procelain. Your hands were shaking to the point that your cup fell off your lap. The sudden sound made Alastor's ears fall back for just a moment.

"Are you... fucking kidding me??" You shouted at him, standing up and huffing your arms across your chest.

"You Asshole!! What were you thinking?? What made you think you could beat a fucking exorcist without an angelic weapon? Let alone, Adam!" You were pacing back and forth in the half lounge/half swamp room. The radio demon sat on the cushioned chair by the green-flamed fireplace. He seems completely unphased, not exactly angry or sad, just annoyed.

"You may be strong, Alastor, but know your fucking limits! Fuck!" You scolded him, looking in his direction every so often, hoping for some kind of response. Anger, guilt, anything.

You felt a hand wrap its fingers around your wrist, pulling you to attention.

"Watch what you say, dear. You'd be a fool to question my strength, again." He spoke in a low frequency, making your heart thump. You quickly snapped away your wrist, looking at him with an unphased expression.

"Then show me. I want to see what he did." This was the first time you spoke so strictly towards him. It shocked him a bit. He groaned and sat back in his chair, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal a poorly stitched together wound that trailed from his hip to his shoulder. You tensed your entire body, feeling and looking as small as possible. Of course, you weren't the best of friends, but it still tugged at your heart strings that he wouldn't tell you about this. And as much as you hated to admit it, seeing his bare chest did make you flush.

His head fell into his hand that rested on the arm of his chair, turning his eyes away from your direction. He didn't turn back to you until he heard a small hic. Your eyes welled with tears again, and trying to hold your breath wasn't working." I-I.. i'm so sorry, Alastor, i didn't know you got hurt. I was just.. I was worried... about you." You sniffled in between your words, wiping your eyes. You suddenly feel a hand on the back of your head, Alastor pulls you in, letting your head rest against his chest. Your heart raced, worried that you'd be hurting him more and simply embarrassed to be this close to him. You looked up to meet his eyed, his smile was geniune and sweet, again. A sight you haven't seen in days.

"It's healing fine, darling, our little collision earlier simply pulled the stiches a tad, not to worry." He placed a quick kiss to your head, something you were hardly expecting.

"Was it.. scary?" You asked softly, dewy eyes still looking at him, as he brushed his thumb across your cheek to wipe a falling tear. He held his breath at your question. There was an obvious response. He ruined his microphone, was humilated by a frat boy (Adam) and nearly died. But he would die all over again before admitting his fear.

"Not at all! I've taken much harder hits, i told you, you have nothing to worry about." He spoke quickly, repeating himself to imply an end to the questioning. You looked down at his wound, audibly wincing. Reaching your hand out, you lightly brushed your fingers against the barely scabbed slash. He was quick to flinch backwards at the sudden touch, but kept still after that. He told himself it was to help ease your nerves, but he was denying the fact that your cool hand seemed to ease his pain. You perked up, looking back to him, with a determined look on your face.

" I can sew! I do it all the time! It.. It wont be medical grade - not even close-  but youre falling apart here." You needed to help him somehow. Alastor was conflicted again, nervous at the idea of a more intimate touch, but.. still wanting it. Especially from you. He lets out a hum, and nods. Your eyes brightened immediately, making him smirk a bit more. "Okay! All i need is my little sewing kit, i think i left it in my room, let me get it-" you turned towards the door, suddenly becoming disoriented at the sigh of your own bedroom. You turned back to Alastor, who had sauntered over to your bed and plopped himself down on the side." O-Oh, sure.. this works." You let out a nervous chuckle, gathering some items before sitting next to him on your bed. As you got situated, Alastor laid his back against the bed, hands holding his head. He hummed a soft tune, trying to relax himself as much as he could in this situation. The scent of your room, your body so close to him right where you sleep. Where you would -

He chokes on nothing, before letting his gaze rest on the cieling.

"O-Okay, i know it's gonna hurt, so.. tell me if it's too much, i guess.." You try to warn him, slowly beginning to pull out the thick, coarse, thread that he had clearly used on himself. You cringe at the thought of him stiching up his own fresh wounds, but once you thread your needle, you focused quickly. You were very steady. One hand was placed on his hip, the other looping the bright green thread - the only color you had - through toughened skin. You tried not to get distracted but the numerous smaller scars that led across his entirety. Or by the raising of his chest as he breathed. The moment was so calm, Alastor clearly enjoying this sort of treatment.

"You're doing okay? Need a break? I'm just about halfway there-"

"Darling, what did i say about questioning my strength? If you ask agai-" you suddenly hit a specific spot that must have been especially tender.

"Yeah yeah, i know you can handle it, just making sure. And sit still!" You quickly dismissed his threat.

After a quiet few minutes, you gently tugged the thread, closing the wound as tight as it could be. The silence was calm, neither of you feeling the need to make senseless small talk. You finally sit up with your hands on your hips.

"Done!" You speak triumphantly, appreciating your handy work. Alastor took a moment to sit up. He hadn't fallen asleep exactly, but he sure wasn't entirely awake. He looks down and runs his clawed hands across the threaded wound, surprised by how clean it looked. You immediately noticed that he was surprised by the quality of your stitching, making you scoff and give him a teasing push." I told you i could help! It looks good, just thank me already." You scolded, rolling his eyes at his patronizing actions.

Alastor chuckles delightfully, leaning his body closer to yours.

"Thank you, dear." He spoke in a low tone, almost too close to your face. You attempted to turn your head away, but he was quick to take a hold of your chin and bring your eyes back on him.

" Is that what you want to hear? Hm? Or.. did you want me to repay you some other way?" He was clearly teasing, loving the absolute nervous wreck you were becoming.

"Yes, please." You squeeked out. The look in his eyes was confused, not exactly expecting you to give in so easily. Usually, you were so stubborn when he would treat you this way, but not seeing him for days on end drove you to nod in response to his question immediately.

"Hm. Well, since you worked so skillfully, i suppose you deserve a reward." He pulled you in, his breath heating the skin right by your ear." - And because you asked so nicely~" he murmured, making your face instantly hot. You took a hold of his face and quickly pulled your lips together, giving him no time to tease you any more than he already had. He swallowed whatever he was about to say and gave in to the kiss. He scooched closer, pulling you towards him by your waist at the same time. He pulled away from your lips to enjoy the breathless, flushed look on your face. The demon let out a low chuckle before taking your waist again and pushing your back to the bed, following along with the movement.

He found himself looming over your body, his hands on either side of your head.

"I'll be gentle, cher, not to worry." He spoke sweetly, quick to trace his hand under your shirt. He traced his claws up the center of your stomach and up to your chest, your top being pulled up along with his movement. It revealed a lovely dark red bralette with little structure and thin material, leaving very little to the imagination. He looked over you like he was ready to pounce. Alastor leaned down, locking your lips to his again. You parted your own lips, moving your tongue into his mouth. He flinched in surprise but did his best to conceal it. Your arms wrapped around his neck, running your hands through his hair, as you arched your back towards his body, longing to be closer. He shifted his position, since you had so rudely pulled him down by his neck, to sit atop your hips. The sudden sensation made you yelp into the kiss. Alastor forcefully pulled himself away and sat up to enjoy the desperate look on your face.

"My, my~ eager aren't we?" He teases, running his thumb across his wet lips.

"But you've done enough for me, my dear. Please, just enjoy the show." He had a devilish smile, pulling your bottoms and panties off you while he spoke. You clenched your fists onto the sheets, tensing from sheer anticipation. He moved off the bed and took a hold of your hips, gently palming them before quickly yanking your body to the edge of the bed. You yelped and sat up. "Alastor, be careful! I don't know if you should- i-if you should..." you covered your mouth, not finishing your sentence but desperate to not let out any noises, as he pulled your thighs apart, sitting in between them. He ran his lips across the softness of your inner thighs, leaving occasional bruises on the way towards your center.

He tantalizingly ran his tongue across your folds, somehow already soaked after the past few moments. He lapped up some of your juices, before flicking his tongue across your clit, circling the area immediately. The sharp sensitivity made you jolt, attempting to grab his hair, but accidentally grabbing onto one of his ears. He yelped, flinching at the sensation, but immediately flushing after. You couldn't help but giggle, hearing this powerful demon yelp.

He wasn't happy about being laughed at. He gave you no warning, before jutting two of his fingers into your enterance. You gasp, arching your back into his touch, hand still held tightly on to a combination of his hair and the side of his ear. He would never admit how much that fueled him. He curled his fingers slightly, but not entirely. And began to pump his fingers, but not as fast as you'd like. He knew what he was doing.

"Alastor..! Ahh-" you moaned out his name, grinding against his fingers. Powered by the sound of his name on your trembling lips, he pumped his fingers faster, placing his tongue back against your clit. The sensation when those two actions hit you, made you moan out even louder, your body squirming against his face. He took a hold of your leg and pulled it over his shoulder, to reach an even deeper spot inside of you. "H-Hold on, that's too much..! Al-Alastor i'm gonna cum, you h-have to stop..!" You quickly warn him, giving his hair another yank. He simply ignored any warnings you cried out, letting the feeling build until you lost control. You arched your back, your body convulsing as he continued to overstimulate your cunt. Your eyes watered, trying to squirm away from his grasp, but he wasn't done with you. He held onto your legs, refusing to let you get away for minutes.

"S-Stop! I can't.. mm- it's too much- Al p-please.." you start to beg, the orgasm becoming a slight pain in your stomach. He pulled away quickly, not giving you the satisfaction of letting you ride out your pleasure, which only made your breathing hitch. He went back in for a moment, running his tongue entirely across your folds, cleaning up the juices that were pooling on the blanket beneath you.

He pulled you back onto the bed, letting you catch your breath. He rested his head on his hand, humming satisified at your almost pained reaction.

"Well well.. was that too much to handle? Do you not have the strength to endure anything else?" He teased, faking a coddling voice. He swung his legs back over you, straddling you once again.

"I told you darling, even in my weakened state, you underestimate my strength." He gloated, wickedly smiling down at you. His pride let him go on like this for a moment, before you took the collar of his unbottoned shirt and yanked him to face you. You went on and pressed a heavy kiss onto his lips, immediately pushing your tongue back into his mouth, feeling the dampness that you caused on his chin. You went on like this to the point of him melting into your grasp, letting out small noises into your mouth. Once you were satsified, you pulled him back. Looking at him with sweet doe eyes.

"Alastor? Love?"

you pulled him closer, never giving him a chance to reply, lips pressed against the side of his head.

"Ruin me~" you let out in a silky voice. You released his collar letting him jolt up at the sudden boldness, looking into your eyes that had a lust he never expected to see.

He cleared his throat then shook the surprised look off his face.

"If you insist, Love.."

He tried to play off his growing excitment, but the way he hurriedly took off his trousers, immediately leaving his throbbing cock against your opening, was a clear indicator that you said all the right things. He barely gave you a chance to prepare, before thrusting his hips until he was completely inside of you. Even trying to play off the intimidating and strong act, you could still tell he knocked the wind out of himself. He was quick to begin moving, starting slow to let your discomfort melt away, then setting a hasty rhythm after. His claws dug until your hips, just enough to draw a trail of blood that ran down your thigh. The sight of it drove Alastor even crazier.

He began to lose his strength as he started to reach his orgasm. He fell forward, immediately biting into the flesh of your neck to anchor himself. You let out a stiffled yell, the combination of pain and overstimulated pleasure driving your body to cum almost instantly. You hold onto his back, nails scratching his skin. You could feel him shiver in response. He only went on harder trying to achieve his own high, which was quick to follow yours. He held your hips flush to his as he came inside of you, then after holding that position for a moment, he thrusted his hips into your already full entrance. You let out a pathetic whimper as he sat up, looking down and appreciating the mess of bruises and bites he managed to leave on your soft bust. He licked his lips, taking in a bit of the blood that seeped from those very wounds.

Alastor almost immediately stood up, coming back composed as ever. He delicately cleaned you up, before laying back down onto your bed, next to your still heaving body.

"Asshole, give me a second.." you managed to mumble at him, wiping tears from your eyes. You finally get a chance to look at him, seeing his devious smile. "Okay! Fine! I get it, youre still as strong as ever, get over it!" You yelled, knowing thats what he wanted to hear.

"Of course I am, cher! But.. i'll be more careful from now on, so you won't constantly pester me about my wounds." He spat out, clearly meaning to reassure you, even though he sounded pained to give in to you like that. You smile and give him a quick kiss before your eyes trail back down to his chest, half the fresh stitches ripped open. You roll your eyes before getting up to grab your needle and thread again.

"Oh my! I suppose you'll have to fix me up again! Be more thorough this time, dear. i'll have to thank you for this repair, as well."

[mayghosts]

Little Gold Top: Kate Martin x Reader

Summary : Turns out Kate Martin does have a weakness, it just happens to be your little gold shirt.

(TOC) (Next)

Warnings: drinking, suggestive content, not proof read, maybe angst? A bit short too

AN: Let me know if y'all want a part 2!! Also send reccs/inspo plss 🧡

Kate was actually loosing her sanity. Watching you dance with her teamates in the crowd of this sticky old bar room. She felt absolutely feral. The way your gold sparkly top reflected patterns around the room, you were almost a discoball. Not to mention the shirt was on the smaller side. Kate was never one to judge, infact she almost liked the shirt a little too much for someone whos "just a friend".

After a few drinks it didn't take much persuasion to get Kate off her barstool and into the crowd. Dancing and bopping along to the music with Caitlin as she watched you talk to some guy. Seems like he liked your shirt too. She felt like a crow, overly interested in shiny objects. She knew you didn't want to talk to the guy. He was ugly.

Maybe it was the drinks, or just her inner crow. Her intoxicated brain dragging her over to where you stood against the wall. She wrapped an arm around your waist, her hand playing with the bottom of your shirt. She cuts in immediately, "Heyyyy Cait says we need to leave. like now." She wasn't sure where this absolute bullshit lie came from. It was a Friday, there was no game tomorrow, no practices, no classes. Nothing.

She looks down at your confused face, than over to the guy you had been chatting with. "She threw up in the parking lot." Kate is a terrible liar. The statement came out fast and flustered. Cait had barely touched a drop all night, something about her new training regiment. However, it seemed to suffice your equally intoxicated brain. You began to make your out of the stuffy room and into the parking lot.

Looking across the half empty parking lot, there was no sign of Caitlin. "Kate what? Where is Caitlin?" You sounded genuinely concerned and Kates guilty conscious started to kick in. The cool breeze blew your hair into your lipgloss, the moon perfectly lighting up your face. And your shirt. Her eyes flicked over you briefly, landing on your lips before meeting your eyes. You pulled the hair off your lips. "Uhh.. I don't know." She took step closer, her hands reaching up to run her fingers over the sequin straps on your shoulders. "I like your shirt." Her eyes once again meeting yours. She quickly licks her lips. "...thanks...I-" Suddenly it hit you. Your toes were basically touching. Her hands playing with the fabric of your shirt, watching the sequins and beads roll in her fingers. "Kate we... I can't..."

Kate looks up again. "Why not?" Suddenly Kate understood liquid courage. You were silent. You didn't know why, maybe you could? I mean you really really wanted to. "You're drunk..." "So are you..." Silence fell over the parking lot. No cars, no birds, not even the wind.

Suddenly you heard the bar room door bang open, loud music and light pouring out from inside. Both of you took a frantic step away from eachother, looking towards the door. Out stumbled a very drunk Gabbie and a sober Caitlin, "Guyyyysssss I ordered an uber, we need to go back to the dorms Caitlin is sooo drunk.." Gabbie basically yelled it across the lot. The three of you exchanged a look.

As the Uber pulled out of the parking lot, the four of you sat in silence. Well, the thee of you did, Gabbie talked the whole way back into the dorms. After getting Gabbie into bed, you walked Kate and Caitlin to the door of your dorm. "Text me when your back in your dorm"

Kate just looked at you wide eyed, guilt still lingering on her face. Why, you had no clue. Nothing really happened.

Caitlin wished you a goodnight, promising to text you back and meet up for breakfast tomorrow to debrief.

Closing your dorm door, you sighed to yourself. Tomorrow was going to be interesting.

[mionemymind]

Lost in the Universe (Part 2)

Summary: The aftermath of Y/n being rescued from the alternate universe.

Warnings: Fluff, Kissing, Cursing, Jealousy

A/n: @tynix had requested a part two. And I wanted to post something since I JUST TURNED 23 BABES!! So I guess this is a birthday gift for me?? Hope y'all enjoy the fluff. Also, I love all the Candy Montgomery gifs that I keep seeing :)

Word Count: 1.3k

Masterlist

Part 1

“I appreciate you teaching her how to control her powers, but we cannot have you going through different universes again,” Wanda complained into Y/n’s chest. Today was an off day and the couple decided to spend much-needed quality time together. Y/n slightly chuckled at Wanda’s pouty-ness, ever since they came back to their universe, Wanda had been feeling extra clingy. 

“You worry too much my love. There was no doubt in my mind that you would’ve found me.” Y/n tweaked her words a little as she remembered alternate Wanda’s words. “We’re tethered,” Y/n thought. She kissed her girlfriend’s forehead, continuing to run her fingers through Wanda’s hair. 

“How can I not worry? You try finding me throughout different universes.” Y/n chuckled more much to Wanda’s dismay. The redhead was more than anxious about the whole situation. She tried her best not to be so angry at America for the obvious accident, but not knowing what universe Y/n was in spiraled her to think the worst. 

“Well my love, you’re more powerful than me. So I would have a harder time getting to you.” Wanda rolled her eyes at the compliment but still smiled. “Not only that, I would’ve probably talked to other Wanda’s out there to help me find you.” 

“Speaking of, how was my counterpart? Was it freaky to see me in a different universe?” Y/n hummed for a bit, letting herself get lost at the thought of alternate Wanda. 

“I was really scared at first. You being the Scarlet Witch, I wasn’t sure if alternate Wanda had the same powers as you. Not only that, I begged in my heart that you were good too. I wouldn’t know how to deal with an evil Wanda - wait if she’s evil, she might be emo too - and your emo phase was pretty hot babe.” Wanda swatted Y/n’s chest as Y/n laughed at the obvious joke she said. Intertwining their hands, Y/n rubbed circles in Wanda’s palm, “But seriously…when I first got there she called me dekta like you. I almost thought it was you, however, something inside me could just feel that it wasn’t you.”

“So what happened?” Y/n sighed as she rubbed Wanda’s back. The redhead enjoyed the constant feeling of Y/n’s touch. “She called me out. Told me that I’m not her Y/n. Rather than giving me a hard time for being in her universe, she let me into her house and kind of relieved my anxiety.” 

Wanda smiled at the thought of her counterpart being nice to her girlfriend. Although Wanda could never imagine a world where she would hurt Y/n, she was just extra grateful to know Y/n never landed in that scenario. “Did you like her more than me?” Wanda joked. 

Y/n snorted at Wanda’s lame joke, “Well she did make me hot chocolate.” Wanda rolled her eyes again as she lightly hit Y/n’s chest one more time. “Keep hitting me woman, I’ll make America send me there again.” 

Wanda lifted her head and flashed her red eyes at Y/n. “Don’t you even dare.” Y/n smiled at her girlfriend’s obvious jealousy and gave her a small kiss. “I wouldn’t - plus the only reason I would want to is to help my counterpart get their shit together.” 

“What do you mean?” Y/n kissed Wanda once more before laying her head back onto the pillow. “Alternate Wanda said that alternate Y/n hasn’t confessed her feelings yet, which is annoying because they literally live on a farm together. How platonic can that shit even be?” 

“What if your counterpart was just as scared as you?” Y/n lingered back to the time before she confessed her feelings to Wanda. All the yearning and pent-up feelings were enough to compete with any love-struck idiot. “I can imagine that, but at the same time, I hadn’t bought a farm with you yet and she did.”

“You and this farm.” Wanda kissed Y/n's arm. “Should we get a place of our own?” 

“Where would you like to live?” Wanda thought about it, no particular location was coming to mind. “Something that doesn’t scream American capitalism.” 

“Italy farmlands?” Y/n moved her hand from Wanda’s back up to Wanda’s head, running her fingers through her hair again. “What made you think of that?” 

“I forgot the title, but I remember liking this movie that was located in the Italy farmlands.” Y/n kept racking her brain for the title, nothing came up though. “When you were searching for me, did you ever find alternate me’s?” 

“I found a couple. One was almost like you but two of them were drastically different in style so that helped a lot.” Wanda recalled the moment she almost mistook one of Y/n’s counterparts for her Y/n. But it all came back to that tethered feeling. 

“One of the Y/n’s was actually with their Wanda. It was fun to talk to a different version of myself. She was quick to tell me that I was in the wrong universe and tried to direct me to you.” 

“What if she thought you were there to steal the other version of me?” Y/n joked once more. “I wouldn’t want a different version of you. You’re it for me dekta.” Wanda got up once more and kissed Y/n slowly. “Don’t ever forget that.” 

“Never.” 

Alternate Universe

“Who’s the slut?” Wanda barely entered her house before the accusations were thrown at her by Y/n. “Excuse me?” Wanda had returned from the edge of their farm where counterpart Y/n was rescued from. 

“You heard me. Who. Is. The. Slut.” Y/n stood with her arms crossed, her eyes motioned to the two cups at the coffee table. Wanda rolled her eyes with a devilish smile, “You.” 

Making Y/n work for more answers, Wanda walked away to the kitchen. “Very funny Wanda,” Y/n mocked. “I wasn’t being funny,” Wanda batted her eyes innocently which annoyed Y/n even further. “Who the fuck was it?” Y/n was irritated beyond belief. She had come home from a mission hoping to see her crush just to find out that some bitch came over and drank her supply of hot chocolate with “her girl”. 

“Well, she’s this very hot girl,” Wanda said as she played dumb, she walked slowly to Y/n and continued, “She’s very charming and kind too - actually, she helped me with the farm today.” This angered Y/n beyond belief. Who the fuck comes to her home and manages to steal her girl within hours? She had a five-year plan that’s been in motion since the day she met Wanda. 

With one last step, Wanda was in Y/n’s space, wrapping her arms around her neck and Y/n held her hips. “Do you like her?” Wanda thought about it for a second, before saying, “Something like that.” Wanda enjoyed the feeling of messing with Y/n, especially with something so harmless. 

However, Y/n could not take it anymore. Frustrated, Y/n stepped out of Wanda’s grasp. “Well, I hope you live happily ever after,” Y/n said sarcastically. Before she could walk any further, Wanda grabbed her hand and pulled Y/n back into her arms. She rolled her eyes, “You are so oblivious.” 

Not wanting to wait any further, Wanda confidently kissed Y/n, feeling the tether that connected them ignite with a new fire, a new love. Y/n reacted swiftly as Wanda jumped and wrapped her legs around Y/n’s waist. “More,” Y/n begged in her head, her knees were growing weak, but she needed more. 

Wanda abruptly cut the kiss off, pushing Y/n slightly back as she moved forward, eager for more. “Will you finally admit that you’re in love with me?” Y/n grinned as she kissed Wanda’s cheek, “I had a plan.” 

“Oh yeah? It took somebody coming over to finally rile you up.” 

“Speaking of, who the fuck was it?” Wanda laughed as Y/n sternly asked. 

“You’ll never guess.”

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[taegularities]

heaven to you (teaser) | myg & jjk (m)

Summary: A casual hook up morphs into a fierce fever dream when roommates slash best friends Min Yoongi and Jeon Jungkook bring heaven and hell to you – all at once, in one single night.

➳ pairing: Yoongi x reader x Jungkook ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: kind of fwb, threesome, college au; fluff, hella smut ➳ warnings: lmfao buckle up, there'll be quite a few warnings for this one :') yoongi and oc are fwb, teasing, flirting, kissing booth stuff, jk wears glasses and has long hair (manbun beloved), yoongi and jk are both so cocky :'), but so is oc, sexual tension, mid-sex convos, threesome ofc, dom yoongi n jk, explicit sexual content, such as double penetration, degradation, spit stuff, manhandling,.. (will expand on this once the full thing drops – but it's a whole lot 😄), they do some weird ass stuff during sex lol but it's such a fun piece, aftercare, valentino yoongi and ck jk!! THE ENDINGGGGG LMFAO ➳ est. wc: 12-15k 😁 1.5k for the teaser!! ➳ a/n: so :’) this had been in planning since? december? i knew i wanted to do a lil something for the milestone, but that lil something turned into… whatever demonic hell this is LOL. back to the ruin you days, i guess. am super excited for this to finally drop. gonna give y'all the best version of it possible, love you <3

MASTERLIST | WIPS | TAGLIST

No matter how fatigued you feel, you’re determined to see this thing through.

Today’s event might have tired you out, but Yoongi’s tongue was quick to bring you back into the land of the living. You’d never admit it to him, but no college responsibility could force you away from the sins he always offers to you.

And two rooms from here, he’s waiting to send you down that spiral again.

You shudder in excitement.

You lift your body off the toilet seat and wash your hands; one last glance into the mirror as you crack your joints. You’d put a gym session into tomorrow’s schedule, but tonight might just serve as exercise enough.

Deep breath in, you step out with strengthened enthusiasm. You brace yourself for whatever’s to come, but what you don’t expect is the presence awaiting you outside the bathroom.

Your fingers halt over the door handle; a light smile creeps upon your face when you see him leaning against the wall.

Eyes shift from bottom to top slowly.

He’s gorgeous. Sculpted and tall. One of his legs is angled, heel against the wall; so you see how thick and strong his thighs are even through his baggy joggers.

And you don’t think he had his hair in this damn bun before; it presses against the wall. Combined with the glasses on his nose, he emanates some type of… innocence.

But you know Jeon Jungkook. And he’s far from the purity you’re so foolishly perceiving right now.

His head moves when he registers your light steps, meeting your eyes so nonchalantly that you trash all prior thoughts of innocence once and for all. You don’t ask what he’s thinking or what he wants. You assume he was merely waiting for his turn to enter the loo.

Jungkook’s plans for tonight, different from yours, probably consist of taking a good shit, seeking a filling meal and drowning in a good night’s sleep. That’s what you think, at least.

But as you move across the hall and towards him, he doesn’t walk past you, doesn’t target the bathroom.

Instead, he keeps looking at you.

And something in his gaze suggests that he’s not quite done talking to you; something of the awkward conversation in the living room still remains. 

Yet, he doesn’t speak.

So, you do, “What?”

“Hm?” he voices, a head tilt suggesting surprise, but you know he’s fucking with you. “Nothing. Was gonna pee.”

“Right.” You don’t move from your spot yet. Fold your arms under your chest. His pupils flit down for a second and then up to your face again; weirdly proud, you press your tits up some more. “Then go.”

“Alright, boss,” he rolls his eyes at you, pushing past you with a light brush of your shoulders, “I’ll go.”

And he does. Doesn’t mean you trust him. So you remain and wait.

Wait a minute longer. When he comes out, you’re still standing there.

He doesn’t look surprised. Just trudges towards you with half damp hands in the pockets of his sweats, sly smile on a pretty face until you speak and it drops.

“Was that off putting to you? You really don’t want it?”

There’s a rapid upward movement of one of his eyebrows, and he feigns the confusion perfectly as he asks, “Want what?”

“To join us.”

He puffs out a mocking laugh. Looks to the side, enough for you to admire his chiselled features. A jaw as sharp as a razorblade. Mole on his neck. Wanna kiss.

Then, he asks, “You were actually serious? Like, you still are?”

“Do I look unserious to you?”

Your blinking is supposed to be cute, but he doesn’t fall for it. You clench your jaw; you know he doesn’t want to reject you. You see it in his movements.

So you try, “Or are you just not made for it?”

Which seems to trigger just the right amount of ego in him. Because he laughs again, forming a circle with his lips, and lets out a little, “Ohhh,” as though you’re challenging him. Which, in some ways…

Before you know it, his scent wafts towards you. Soapy, pleasant. He’s close enough to trap you — which, to your surprise, he suddenly does.

One arm on each side of your head, he closes in. Your head moves immediately, your gaze set on his colourful tattoos. When you look at him again, the infuriating, lopsided signature smirk makes your eyes roll — a coping mechanism in a situation like this.

You won't reveal that the sudden movement sent a shiver down your spine, or that you held your breath for a moment possibly long enough for him to notice.

So eye rolling it is, disguising the wavering self-control as annoyance when he explains, “This wouldn’t be my first time, babe. Yoongi and I don’t mind sharing.”

His breath is warm, minty. Did he chew gum before?

You gulp.

“But,” he continues, tilting his head; you nearly expect him to kiss you. But he doesn’t. “You’re not exactly the type of girl I usually fuck with.”

Not his type of girl, huh?

Rude.

“Why not?” you ask. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs his shoulders.

You see your reflection in his glasses — so far, you seem composed. Though less when he says, “You like leaving people and things broken. You get bored fast.”

Ouch. You wish he was lying.

It’s not like you do it on purpose. People catch feelings fast — you don’t. You make your intentions clear; the times things broke weren’t because you intended them to.

But…

You’re surprised he knows about this at all. You know Jungkook isn’t one to do feelings either; Yoongi told you. Perhaps he’s divulged your philosophies, too.

“So do you,” you answer.

“You got bored of Yoongi really fucking fast, too.”

“Not true. I’m still here.”

“You are now. You haven’t been for quite a while, right?”

You silence. What the hell does he mean?

Bewildered, you stare at him; if he wasn’t surrounded by this odd mystery, you’d push him away again. But he wants to rile you up, and you know you can take a lot more than that.

When you don’t answer, he pulls away, tugging back one or two escaped hair strands. Your eyes follow as he secures them behind his left ear, adorned by two earrings.

But when he raises an eyebrow in question, you awaken again, assuring him that, “You don’t have to. Yoongi and I can just do our thing and you… I don’t know. Have a good night, I suppose.”

You nod once and then push your body off the wall, glad you’re not sandwiched between it and Jungkook anymore. But before you can escape into your friend’s bedroom, a strong hand pulls you back.

You gasp, not anticipating the bold grip, flashing a glare to the veins on the back of his hand as you ask, “What? Didn’t mock me enough or—”

“You won’t ask again?” he has the audacity to inquire.

“You can’t be serious,” you scold, eyes wide. You can’t get out of his hold, so you don’t try just yet. “I’m gonna go. He’s already lighting candles or whatever.”

Jungkook chuckles. “As if. He doesn’t do that shit.”

“True,” you admit, “well, but he is waiting for me. Was waiting for you, too.”

“For me, huh?”

His grin is dorky. The following pout even more so. Horny moods make him cocky, but you remember from every other time you saw him at their dorm how freaking annoying he was.

A likeable annoying, you must admit. Capable of sweet smiles and funny jokes and absolute dumbass behaviour.

Like now.

“Awwh. Man, I saw him just this morning,” he says, loosening his grip around your wrist, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I understand if you missed me, but he really didn’t have to.”

You grimace. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah. Just so you know, when you call someone an idiot, you—”

“Alright. I’m leaving.”

Which you do. With absolute confidence.

Throwing your hair back and moving your hips. But what you also do is look back once you’ve taken a couple steps, nodding into the general direction of the bedroom. 

Granting him a boost of confidence as you give into his wishes and ask again.

“Are you coming or?”

“Uhm—”

“Isn’t that why you wouldn’t let me go?” If he rejects you now, you’ll walk away. End of story. “Or why you’re looking at me like that.”

He doesn’t answer. Caught red-handed.

He seems to contemplate it. Is eyeing you carefully, amused beyond imagination. What a delightful expression.

One last time, he thinks aloud and says, “You’re acting badass now, but that will backfire. And you will burn yourself.”

“So what? Fire’s fun.”

“I’m just saying.” One more. “Tonight might be a little too much for you with the two of us, you know? I’m not as easy to handle as you think. ”

“I don’t think you are,” you confess. “But I don’t want to handle you. I want the opposite.”

No matter how tired you are, you will see this thing through. With or without him, you will take what Yoongi gives. Accept if Jungkook offers anything. And you think… you think he will.

There’s a glimmer in his eyes. A hint of desire, hunger growing in the predator’s big gaze. If he wants to reject you now, you’ll walk away.

But you don’t think he will.

And once more, courageous, you say, “Handle me, Jeon Jungkook.”

okayyy. this is one glimpse of the whole sin lol. yoongi is gonna have a way bigger role, this is just a jk centric scene!! they're both prominent a lot in every other scene and they're both menaces :')

please look forward to it!! it's gonna be a fun lil piece before we go back to our lil angst/fluff corner. and support by leaving a like, reblog and comment! anddd send me your thoughts, your enthusiasm is extremely encouraging!!

if you want to be on the taglist, here you go!! love you all <3

[mrsarnold]

omgg you should write morgan cheli who has a crush on reader thats a cheerleader for uconn. she’s always trying to get your attention and eventually she does

— flaming hot cheetos ✩ morgan c.

syn : Your a cheerleader at Uconn and your friends with a specific group of basketball players but one of the players catches your eye.

pair : morgan cheli x cheerleader!reader

warn : pure fluff, mo being head over heels, cussing, kissing

note : feeling sparkly today so heres some fluff

the gravity of the air hit you when you were threw up in the air. you were practicing stunts for the upcoming game womens basketball game half time. after a few seconds in the air you landed safely back in your cheermates hands.

when you landed you were greeted by claps which made you turn into the direction of the claps. the loudest were from KK arnold as you turn to the group of girls who were sitting in the bleachers watching you and team practice. you quickly waved at her and your eyes tranced to a brunette girl.

you've seen her before but never spoke to her. your stared at her for a moment, she was laughing at something KK told her. you weren't sure what but you were snapped out of it by your coach.

"alright ladies, great practice today", my coach said as she clapped her hands as a sign to wrap it up. you started grabbing my stuff and headed towards the girls on the bench. you were met by KK and Paige running up to you, pulling you into a huge hug.

as they pulled away KK squealed, "OMGGGG you ate downnn girlll. anywho imma introduce you to the rest of the team." she jumped up and down as she wrapped her arm around you and start walking each girl introducing each one. when she stopped as the last one i looked up met with the familiar brunette.

"so this is Morgan !! she real chill shes just like me!!!", KK said pointing to Morgan then to you. morgan smiled at you then said, "yea its nice to meet you!! heard a lot about you from kk and paige."

you smiled, slightly blushing at the the thought of her getting a earfull about me. you took in the brunette's appearance quickly before KK dragged you off with a O shaped mouth. "girly i know you weren't just checking out Mo", she said shocked.

"i was not !! it was just the first time meeting her y'know i do that to everyone", you said looking around. that part was a bit of a lie but who makes the rules? i quickly waved goodbye to KK and everyone else before heading off to your dorm.

Once you made it to your dorm you got a notification.

*Morgancheli has followed you on all platforms!"

you quickly followed her back on all a bit taken back from it. you decided to go take a shower after a long practice, when you got out and was welcomed by a notification on your phone :

Morgan Cheli :

uhh hey are you the girl from earlier?

as soon as you saw the text you realized KK gave her your socials. you silently cussed KK out in your mind before texting morgan back.

yea your morgan right?

um yeah KK told me to text you

ohhh how r u ?? :)

the two of you continued to talk until you fell asleep. all you could think of was her. you knew yall just met but it was really "love at first sight". these long conversations laster for weeks.

the team knew and had a feeling y'all liked eachother but yall didn't wanna admit it. rather it was unexpected cuddles or before games meet ups, y'all were falling for eachother.

morgan decided to take you to a arcade during her off day from practice. she of course challenged you to every game she saw. y'all ended the hang out (date) at the claw machine.

after two tries she got won you a blue snorlax and you were happy. the two of you were walking back to her car, you were skipping as she was laughing. you stopped skipping infront of the car before you fell.

"so mo.. i have to tell you something", you said turning around to face her looking a little nervous. "yea whats up", she said smiling. "i really like you, like, like like you but its ok if you don't like me back", you said rambling blushing in embarrassment.

she was taken back a bit by your confession, before she could answer some levitated her closer to you. she captured your lips into a kiss before backing up with a smile. "i like you too, your really cute when your nervous", she said smiling

"so will you be my girlfriend", you asked as all the nerves left you. she nodded and the night ended well.

taggies : @star-girl69 @hrtslaces @chelisbae @patscorner @kamii-2 @cosmopretty @lovermcres

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

What is Broken I (Aemond Targaryen x Pregnant Wife!Reader)

The war, the "Dance of the Dragons," as they have come to call it, is over. And yet, you are not celebrating. You have just learned that your husband, Prince Aemond, spent the last months of the war with another woman in his bed. Not only that, but his mistress is pregnant. Just like you...

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (third person, no use of Y/N), side Aemond Targaryen x Alys Rivers

Warnings: Angst, pregnancy and related symptoms, infidelity, some pushing and hitting

Author's Note: It's finally here! Sorry y'all, this month a) I found out my dog has terminal cancer, b) I got covid, and c) my laptop randomly went kaput in the middle of an episode of the West Wing. But it's finally here! As it says on the taglist, this will be a three-part series.

Taglist is done via reblogs

Series Masterlist

What is Broken

It was a lovely night in King’s Landing.

There was not a cloud to be seen for miles, and the stars were bright and twinkling. The waters of Blackwater Bay were calm and reflected the full moon as clearly as a freshly polished mirror. Even the wind seemed in a pleasant mood, carrying the sweet scent of spring on its back as it drifted lazily through the windows of the Red Keep.

Every bit of it grated on her heart like a whetstone across dull steel.

The worst night of one’s life should not be so lovely, she thought. It should be terrible. With storms and an angry sea, and perhaps even a raging fire somewhere in the distance.

If the night had been so, she would not have seen it when, only a few moments ago, a massive winged form landed in the fields just outside the city with a lowing wail, the last person she wanted to see strapped to its back. Thankfully, Aemond was far enough away that she could not make him out against the mass of his mount.

The people would cheer him in the streets as he rode toward the castle. The victorious Prince, returning after long months at war, having not only ended the war itself but avenged the deaths of his eldest sister, brother, and his little nieces and nephews.

Daemon Targaryen and his dragon had perished above the God’s Eye, the waters below boiling when their bodies fell into its depths.

With the Rogue Prince gone, the war was swiftly over. Rhaenyra was killed, her last remaining son taken as King Aegon’s ward, and the royal host returned to King’s Landing victorious. Even Cregan Stark had agreed to halt his advance South, redirecting to Harrenhal for peace talks.

Harrenhal. A cursed place, now to be the site of great diplomacy.

Even thinking about the horrible castle was enough to turn her stomach.

A letter detailing exactly what had occurred within those melted stone halls during the war, written by the late Prince Daemon himself, sat on her vanity. A final act of retribution against his soon-to-be killer.

She knew that her husband was only returning home because of the letter.

My dear Princess, Despite the conflict between our sides of the family, I have always thought you a rather sweet girl. Therefore, it is with the deepest regret that I must now shoulder the burden of informing you of your beloved husband’s improper conduct during this awful conflict…

A pang of nausea shot through her stomach as she remembered the words.

A mistress… some Strong bastard… called Alys, my spies tell me… every night, without fail… from the very first week… another bastard babe in the whore’s witchly womb…

There was a pounding from within her, soft thumps and kicks as the life inside her own womb became unsettled by its mother’s roiling emotions. She laid a hand over her belly, whispering soothing words she did not believe to try and calm it – and herself.

Once, she would never have believed Daemon’s stories. But then word came that, after the final battle, Aemond returned to Harrenhal for less than an hour before he again mounted Vhagar and flew for King’s Landing. It was not like Aemond to make such swift decisions. Nor did it strike her as the action of an innocent man.

When she called for Ser Willis Fell, her heart had been filled with hope that the new Lord Commander of the Kingsguard would dispel her worries. That she had only allowed herself to consider the possibility of Aemond’s infidelity because her mind was addled by her delicate condition.

“My princess, I cannot, in good conscience, tell you a lie…”

She had screamed then. And cried. And possibly thrown things at the Kingsguard, but she couldn’t entirely remember.

All she could remember was how Aemond kissed her on the day he left for Harrenhal. Deeply and passionately. Until she could feel his love for her as clearly as her own heartbeat. Then he knelt before her and placed a single, tender kiss to her belly, to where they had only just learned that their babe grew.

Less than a moon’s turn later, he had taken another woman to his bed, and seeded her, too.

Now he was returning home – in haste.

He knew, then. That Daemon had let slip his secret. Perhaps it had even been the Rogue Prince’s last words. Spat in Aemond’s face in the seconds before his body tumbled into the lake below. Had she not been caught in the crossfire, she might have admired it for the masterful manipulation it was.

But in seeking to destroy Aemond, Daemon had destroyed her as well.

She was broken from her thoughts by the distant sound of people cheering. Aemond was making his way through the city more quickly than she thought. The streets weren’t as crowded as she hoped they would be this late at night.

It was late. Far later than she had become accustomed to. These days, she was often in bed and asleep not long after the sun had set, hoping that she would somehow find a full night’s sleep. Never to any avail.

For a moment, she thought of slipping beneath the blankets and pretending to be asleep so she would not have to speak to Aemond until the morning. But he would only crawl into bed with her, and then he would see when she inevitably woke…

That was not a conversation she wanted to have today. Really, there was no conversation she wanted to have with Aemond, only that which must be had.

She was resolved that Aemond would not find her weeping or stewing in heartbreak. No, she would not let him think he held such power over her, even if he did. He always had, even when they were young children.

So, she resumed her nightly routine as though nothing was wrong, as if she was entirely unaffected by his betrayal. Sitting at her vanity, she began to unbraid her hair. Her maids usually did it for her, but she had dismissed them the moment she read Daemon’s letter, not wanting to see their pitying faces for longer than she had to.

Since learning she was with child, everyone – including her maids – fussed over her constantly. It was not without reason, she knew. There was indeed very good reason why everyone was so concerned about her. But after six months, she was tired of it.

Just the simple act of taking her braids out and brushing through her loose hair by herself brought a welcome feeling of independence that she had not felt in some time. Perhaps ever.

That feeling slowly faded away as the cheering and celebration from the city came closer and closer, until she could hear gauntleted hands clapping in the castle courtyard below.

Aemond was here.

Her hand fell to cradle her stomach and was immediately met by three quick thumps against her palm. She knew the child did not understand what was happening and was only responding to the touch itself, much in the same way a cat arches its back when petted.

Still, it comforted her. It made her feel like she was not alone.

“Kirimvossi, rūhossas,” she whispered with a smile before resuming brushing her hair.

Her smile did not last.

Sooner than she had hoped, she heard the clanking of armor as the guards outside her door straightened, bowed, then retreated.

A shiver went through her, stealing the air from her chest while cold gathered in her heart and began sinking to her stomach. Dragging her brush through her hair suddenly took great effort, as did every breath.

Yet it was surprisingly easy to banish the tears forming in her eyes and school her face into tired neutrality. To glance only once at the figure now lingering in the doorway before turning away without acknowledging him.

She did not know if it was strength or cowardice.

He called her name, his voice rasping and low – desperate. “We must speak.”

She did not respond. She didn’t even look at him.

Aemond sighed, calling her name again. “Please, my love. Look at me.”

Still, she did not move.

“Ābrazȳrītsos,” he said, a hint of command slipping into his plea. Little wife.

He had always loved calling her little. According to their mother, the first thing Aemond did when he saw her as a babe was exclaim, “She’s so little!”

Ever since, he’d been calling her little.

First, she was simply hāedus. Little sister.

Whenever she tried to follow Aemond when he went somewhere she wasn’t allowed or did something she wasn’t allowed to do, he would gently scold her, “Haedus, you’re too little.” Inevitably, she would cry. About half the time, her crying was enough to sway him.

Then, she became zaldrīzītsos. Little dragon.

“You’re my zaldrīzītsos,” he would say when she hugged him tightly after Aegon or one of the Strong boys mocked him for not having a dragon. She didn’t have one either, but she never felt she needed one, for she had Aemond.

For a time, she was maegītsos. Little witch.

Aemond had dubbed her so when she came to visit him in the Maester’s tower while he recovered from the loss of his eye. The Maester would give her some “special leaves” so she could brew a “magic potion” to help Aemond get better. In truth, the potion was simply tea. But Aemond always pretended that the potion had indeed worked miracles, just to make her happy.

Once he was healed, she was again zaldrīzītsos.

Since he finally had a true dragon, she worried that he would not want her anymore. When she came to him in tears one day as he was leaving the Keep to see Vhagar, he hugged her tightly and told her, “You will always be my zaldrīzītsos.” Then he brought her with him to ride Vhagar. It was the best day of her life.

Or it was, until the day they were officially betrothed, and she became raqiarzītsos. Little darling.

It was what he would call her every morning when he greeted her with a chaste kiss on the cheek. How he would summon her to his side at court events. What he moaned when they kissed unchastely each evening before saying goodnight.  

She had been so excited when she became his ‘ābrazȳrītsos.’ The first time he had whispered it in her ear at the wedding feast, she’d blushed so brightly that their grandsire inquired about her health. The next time he said it, Aemond made sure they were alone.

Little sister. Little dragon. Little witch. Little darling. Little wife.

Always little.

Once, the names had made her heart flutter with delight. Now, they only prompted another wave of nausea.

Aemond was everything to her – he always had been. She thought he felt the same way, but it seemed she was wrong. To him, she was just “little.”

She flinched at the sound of his voice, of that word. How he spoke to her like she was some frightened animal poised to lash out.

Yet at the same time, her heart melted to hear the voice she loved so dearly after so long an absence. Merely the sight of him in the mirror sent a feeling of warmth and belonging flooding through her.

She hated him.

She loved him.

She was angrier at him than she had ever been in her life.

She wanted nothing more than to run into his arms.

She could do nothing but continue to brush her hair and stare into her reflection.

Aemond sighed, finally stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him. “You won’t even look at me, ābrazȳrītsos?”

She gave no answer.

He whispered her name again, “Abrazȳrītsos, please,” Aemond’s voice turned quiet as he reached her and set a hand on her shoulder as if to turn her around by force, but she wrenched herself out of his grip, staring down at the floor. Though she did not look at him, she could almost feel the misery on his face. “Please look at me.”

“If I look at you, I fear I will be sick,” she explained weakly. “I don’t want to harm the babe.”

His irritation began to surge, she knew it even without seeing him. His breathing quickened slightly, and she could hear the creaking of leather as he rolled his shoulders and balled his hands into fists – he had been so hurried he had not yet taken off his riding gloves.

“You are my wife,” he huffed. She could hear him attempt to contain the sharp edge of barely contained anger in his soft voice. At least he was considerate enough to hide it. “You are my sister – my blood. You love me as I love you, and you carry my child within you. Yet you cannot even look at me?”

Fury roared to life like a surging flame within her. How dare he be angry with her when he is the one who ruined everything?

“Why did you come back?” she spat back, quietly yet viciously.

His stare continued to weigh on her through the mirror. “I promised you the day I left that I would return to you when the war was done,” he said, half-smiling at the memory. “The war is over, so here I am.”

She shook her head. “The war is not over.”

“Of course, it is. Daemon and Rhaenyra are dead, and – ”

“The fighting is over,” she corrected. “But the war is not finished. Peace must still be brokered. As Prince Regent, that is your responsibility. Yet you are here rather than with the rest of the soldiers and politicians at Harrenhal. Why?”

She wanted him to be the one to say it.

Aemond sighed, raising a hand to touch her, then pulling away. “Is it so hard to believe that I missed you and simply couldn’t stand to stay away a moment longer?”

She was moving before she could process what she was doing, standing from the vanity and turning to face Aemond, her hand raised and ready to strike.

But he caught her arm by the wrist, stopping her moments before her palm could impact his cheek – his scarred cheek. His eye was wide, filled with sadness and shock in equal measure. He turned to look at her hand as if it was some kind of curiosity he had never seen before, like he couldn’t understand how it could ever be raised against him.

Tears were spilling down her cheeks when he turned back to her, and his expression gave over entirely to despair. Aemond opened his mouth, but words failed him.

He lowered her hand gently, bowing his head slightly to the right to give her an easier target.

It broke something within her.

She dove toward him, wrapping her arms around him as she cried into his chest, clinging to him as if he were her the only thing keeping her anchored to the ground.

But the moment Aemond moved to return the embrace, she shoved him away. It only moved him a step back, still within her reach. He did not move closer, and when she began to pound her fists furiously against his chest, he didn’t try to stop her.

“Why did you come back?” she demanded as she pushed him once more. “Why did you not just stay in Harrenhal with your whore and leave us alone?”

Aemond did not respond. His mouth hung open, but he said nothing. He could do nothing but stare at her, his eye flitting between her belly, where his child had grown –so much he could hardly believe it – in his absence, to her eyes.

Those eyes. A warm, rich brown that shone with gold in the firelight. It was Aemond’s favorite color. For whenever he saw it, in her eyes or their mother’s, he knew he was home.

But now those eyes he loved so dearly were filled with tears of his own making. He wanted nothing more than to see them dry and sparkling with love once more.

“Abrazȳrītsos, you must know I will always return to you,” he begged, stepping forward and cautiously placing a hand on her belly. Almost immediately, he felt a stirring within her, and a weak pushing against him.

His child.

Was it reaching for him, or pushing him away?

Before he could truly ponder either answer, his wife pulled away from him, her arms curling protectively around her abdomen.

He had to say something. Something to take her pain away, to make everything well again so he would have the chance to hold her and the babe. Even if it was a lie, he would say it if it made her forgive him.

“Raqiarzītsos,” he started, only for her to take another step away and scowl at him. He sighed as the realization of how deeply had hurt her truly sunk in. He softly called her name, “My love, it was one mistake. One moment of weakness, I swear –”

“Liar!” Her voice had grown rough with her fury, and Aemond flinched at the sound. He had never heard her shout like that, not even when she was a babe herself.

She saw his discomfort and reveled in it. Seeing him suffer a fraction of what she felt gave her a sinful spark of joy, one that she felt no need to beg forgiveness from the Seven for. She turned away from him and retrieved the letter from Daemon, panting as she looked over the words once more.

“A mistress now lies in your husband’s bed. She was a wetnurse at Harrenhal, some Strong bastard. She must be something truly special, for she is the only Strong – trueborn or bastard – to have survived Aemond’s rather thorough purging of the bloodline. I suppose it is now clear why. I have not been able to learn much about her. She is called Alys, my spies tell me.”

With smoldering eyes, she turned to Aemond and began to read aloud. “She reports to your husband’s chambers every night without fail, as she has done from the very first week he arrived at that cursed place. One of my spies even reported that he calls her to him after each battle or razing of some poor Riverlanders, as well as anytime he feels frustrated. It is no surprise, then, that there is another bastard babe in the whore’s witchly womb. Your brothers do have a fondness for seeding unsuitable women, don’t they?”

When she looked up from the letter, she found Aemond’s face set in anger, his fingers curled as though they were aching to grip his sword and run someone through. His eye flew from the letter to her face, the rage burning there only softening for a moment.

The left corner of Aemond’s mouth twitched upward involuntarily, and he jerked his head to the side to try and hide it. “You would believe Daemon’s word over mine, abrazȳrītsos? After all he has done?”

She let the letter drift back to the table. “If all I had was his word, I would not have believed it,” she explained. “But it is not only his word.”

Aemond exhaled slowly, looking away from her. Incensed as he was, he would not make her the target of his ire. Never her.  “Will you tell me who else?”

“No,” she answered, shaking her head slightly. There was a dark glint in his eye that promised violent retribution upon whoever she would name. No one deserved torture, or perhaps even death, for telling the truth.

With a nod, Aemond closed his eyes and bowed his head. He would not press her further, though she knew he would likely still try to find out who it was by other means. But in that moment, she could not bring herself to care.

She was so tired.

She had anticipated a long fight, and thought she was ready for it. In the hours she waited for Aemond’s return, she had carefully tended the spark of her anger so it would burn only when she commanded. But the moment she saw him, it escaped her grasp and became a wildfire in a dry grassland. It was fierce, quick, and lethal. In an instant, it had consumed every bit of her strength, leaving only the barest smoldering remains in its wake.

After a few more silent moments, Aemond again opened his eyes and looked down at his wife.

“I will not insult your intelligence by trying to deny it any further,” he said, clenching his fist to stop himself from reaching for her, “and I know there is nothing I can say to excuse what I have done. But my love, I truly am sorry. For what I did, and for the hurt I have caused you.”

She stared at him, trying to detect and hint of insincerity. She found none.

“I love you. I know I have given you ample reason to doubt that but…” he swallowed thickly. “I do love you, abrazȳrītsos. I always have and I always will. I know in my heart that the gods made us for each other. And if they had fated us to others, I swear I would have defied their will and ripped them from the heavens so that I could love you.”

He licked his lips and removed his gloves before offering her his shaking hand.

Perhaps it was the result of the weariness pervading her entire being. Perhaps it was the tug of an unborn babe reaching out, somehow knowing its father was near. Perhaps it was the sliver of her soul that had always belonged to Aemond beckoning her to rejoin him and become whole again.

Whatever the reason, despite the protestations of her aching heart and her rational mind, she put her hand in his.

It did not fit as well as it used to.

If Aemond noticed, he did not acknowledge it. He raised their joined hands to his lips to kiss before resuming his plea. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and I will understand if you do not give it, but for the sake of my heart and the love we share, I must ask it. Abrazȳrītsos, can you ever forgive me?”

The world fell silent, and so did she.

If she focused, she could hear her heartbeat, along with two others, thumping out three different rhythms. It was discordant, yet somehow comforting. She listened to it for a moment, trying to hear a melody within it. But there was nothing.

She turned her attention to her hand in Aemond’s grasp. There was a welcome heat where his skin touched hers, but also a tingling numbness. A slight discomfort, akin to wearing new gloves before they had softened and molded to her hands.  

Then, she looked at Aemond. At the face that was more familiar to her than her own. It had changed in the last six months – more so than she would have expected. The color of his skin had deepened from so many days spent in the sun, and there were new blemishes that had not been there before. The shadows under his eyes, the roughness where it once was smooth, and the new smudge of a scar above the corner of his right brow.

All of it was strange. Known, yet unknown. Question, but no answer.

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

“What…” Aemond’s lip quirked again as he cupped her cheek with his free hand. “I don’t understand, what don’t you know, my love?”

She winced slightly at the foreign sensation of his hand against her skin. He had callouses now he didn’t have before. “I don’t know how to forgive you, or if I even want to. I just feel… tired.”

Aemond nodded, bowing his head once more to hide the disappointment he could not keep from his face, and looked at her belly. “Of course, you are tired,” he said, “I am sorry, I did not consider how late it was.”

She caught his eye flicking towards the bed – their bed, or at least, it used to be. A cold coil of panic began to wrap itself around her heart. He could not sleep here. He could not see…

“I would prefer if you slept elsewhere,” she said hastily before he could ask otherwise. “For tonight, I would like to be alone.”

Tears shone in Aemond’s eye for a moment, but he did not let them fall. He gave her a tight smile and again kissed her hand. “If that is what you wish, I will obey, but may I ask one thing?”

It would be foolish to say yes. Foolish to give him the opportunity to persuade her at all when she knew how easily he had always been able to sway her with his sweet words. Foolish to do anything but send him away immediately.

And yet…

“What would you ask?” she whispered, betrayed by the foolish little part of her heart and soul that was still and would always be his ‘hāedus.’

“I ask only for a few moments, and then I will leave, as you wish. But it has been half a year, abrazȳrītsos, since I have seen you, or heard your voice, or held you in my arms.” He squeezed her hand, drawing her attention to his face, open and earnest and pleading. “So for only a few moments, please, allow me to hold you again.”

His softly spoken words were like a siren’s song, and she began to feel faint as she struggled to resist falling under its spell. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, begging her mind to calm and think clearly.

“I promise, I will do nothing more than hold you,” he said, running his hand delicately over her cheek. “I just want to hold my wife.”

He did not deserve it, she knew. Nor did he deserve to be touching her as he did now, though she did not push him away. He did not even deserve her consideration of his request.

But it had been half a year for her, too.

Half a year with no one to kiss her good morning or good night. No one to carry her to bed when her legs and back ached. No one to hold her hair and whisper soothing words when she was sick.

She’d had her mother, her sister, and her maids. Even a Maester, at one very low point. But that was not the same. It was not the touch of a beloved husband.

Despite her anger, she was aching to be held by him.

“Just for a few moments,” she whispered through trembling lips. “Then you must leave.”

She did not have time to regret her decision before Aemond pulled her forward and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her forehead as he thanked her. And before she could pull away, he was turning her slowly, so her back was pressed flush against his chest.

“It’s alright,” he assured her when she made a soft noise of confusion. “Trust me, abrazȳrītsos.”

His hands skated down her arms, his touch featherlight and yet searing. She gasped as he began to cradle her belly, her head lolling back into his shoulder. If given one more breath, she would have pushed him away, but then…

He laced his fingers together and took the weight of her belly into his own arms.

It was a rapturous feeling, to have the burden of it lifted from her and her eternally aching spine, even for a moment. She sighed in relief and leaned back further into her husband. Gratitude flooded through her, and her hands flew to rest over his.

“Oh, Aemond,” she breathed into his neck.

Gods, she had missed him so much. Everything would have been so much easier if he’d been here to hold her like this. He had always known been able to help her, she should have known that even with their first child, he would somehow know what to do…

Her eyes snapped open, and her blood ran cold.

This was their first child, but it was not Aemond’s only child.

He had another, far away, within a different mother. A mother whom he had been there for as she grew, Who, thanks to her role as a wetnurse, would be able to teach him exactly how to help.

“Did you hold Alys like this?”

Aemond stiffened behind her, and his grip tightened. “Abrazȳrītsos…”

“Don’t lie to me, Aemond. Not anymore.”

Silence, then…

“Yes, I did.”

She seized his hands and ripped them apart, tearing herself out of his grasp as quickly as she could, heedless of him reaching for her. Stumbling, she crossed the room before turning back to him, eyes blazing through new tears.

“Do not ever touch me like you touched her,” she spat. Her rage had reignited, the barren grassland now an endless field of flame.

Aemond’s mouth hung open as he looked to her in despair, his arms held helplessly in front of him. His voice broke as he said her name – a plea. “I just wanted to hold you. To help you.”

“And you did. For a few moments, just as you asked. Now leave, as you promised.”

He was looking at her like she was a wild beast, primed to lash out should he make one wrong move. But she didn’t mind, for that was exactly what she felt like. He had made her feel that way, and she hated him for it.

Aemond just stood there, and she could see his mind working desperately to figure out what to say to placate her. She would not give him the chance.

“Leave!” she screamed, her voice ripping its way out of her throat, burning as it went. She could not help but wonder if that was what dragons felt when they breathed fire.

Lowering his arms, Aemond nodded. “I will leave, abrazȳrītsos. Just as I promised. I am sorry.”

“I don’t care.” She meant it. His apology meant absolutely nothing to her raging, broken heart.

She watched him carefully as he turned and walked through the door, ready to rage at him again if she needed to. Perhaps she would actually breathe fire the next time.

Aemond did not try anything to soothe her or convince her to change her mind. The warrior prince knew when a battle was lost. But she knew he had not yet ceded the war.

That much was clear when he paused in the doorway, looking back at her in determination. “I love you, abrazȳrītsos, and nothing will ever change that.”

Then he closed the door, and was gone.

But she could not stop crying, for she knew he would return.

Worse, she knew that as angry as she was, she loved him, too. And nothing would ever change that, either.

-

[just-jordie-things]

spin the bottle! - okkotsu yuuta

word count: 5.2k warnings: a lot of smooching, mentions of drinking summary: spin the bottle is an immature game for immature people... but yuuta's crossing his fingers that it lands on you just once. more info: aged up characters! a/n: y'all i bullied into writing this after my truth or dare megumi fic... but i ain't complaining teehee enjoy <3 ___

Spin the bottle was a game for insecure teenagers to use as a lame excuse for getting some.  It was immature, outdated, not to mention a bit boring….

And yet, here she was, sidling up between Maki and Yuuji, cheering along with the rest of the group as they chanted for the game to commence.  

What was a silly game among friends? It wasn’t like it had to mean anything.  They were just a little drunk after celebrating a weeknight where they could all hang out together, and it wasn’t a true party without party games, right? 

So despite the swell of embarrassment in her stomach, (y/n) put on a brave face in the form of a drunken smile, and leaned into Maki’s shoulder with a few cheesy pickup lines muttered in her ear.

“First of all, the bottle has to land on me first,” Maki shrugged her friend off semi-gently before turning to her with a small smirk.  “And I know it’s not me you wanna be kissing, anyways” 

(y/n) stuck her tongue out defiantly, before bursting into a fit of giggles as she leaned away from her sassy friend.  Apparently alcohol only made Maki more quick-witted than usual.

She leaned back on the palms of her hands, her laughter finally ceasing as Nobara explained the simple rules of the game.  She hadn’t meant to tune her out, but it’s not like spin the bottle had a difficult set of rules to follow, and anyways, her attention was pulled away by something else.

Or, someone else.

Yuuta also didn’t seem to pay any mind to Nobara’s strict explanations on the rules.  Whatever he was talking about with Toge seemed much more important.  So much so his hands were moving as he rushed through muttered words, panicked eyes shifting from the bottle on the floor to his mostly-mute friend.  (y/n) couldn’t help but find it a little cute.  

Was he nervous about the game? Or was this about something unrelated? 

He’d seemed fine the rest of the night.  She’d only got to hang out with him a little bit, Toge and Maki had a knack for pulling him away for something.  Toge needed a partner in beer pong.  Maki wanted to arm wrestle.  Yuuta either followed or was dragged along, giving her a quiet apology with a nervous laugh.  (y/n) knew it wasn’t personal, everyone was just excited to get to hang out together, but she couldn’t help but feel a little deflated every time they were interrupted.

“Okay everyone got it? Great!” Nobara clapped her hands as she plopped down in her spot on the other side of Yuuji, already reaching forward to grab hold of the bottle.  “Ladies first, of course” She grins as she gives it a solid spin.

Maki and (y/n) share a look, but don’t voice their complaint out loud.  If she wanted the first turn of the most embarrassing game ever created, they’d let her have it.

And to Nobara’s dismay, the empty bottle stopped spinning and landed on the boy at her side, and her eager expression fell as she turned to her pink haired friend.  Yuuji bore a giant grin, not out of excitement for kissing one of his closest friends, but simply because he knew that he was the last person she wanted it to land on.  If only it had stopped a few inches to his left… maybe she would’ve had her chance with the girl she’d really wanted it to land on.

“Oh, come on!” Nobara whines dramatically.

“You’re the one that wanted to play!” Yuuji argued.

“Yeah, rules are rules!” (y/n) chimed in from next to him.

With a roll of her eyes, Nobara leans forward and gives him the fastest peck of a kiss ever done.  The group is howling with laughter and excitement, and even though this wasn’t (y/n’s) first choice of entertainment, she finds herself giggling and cheering along, and urging Yuuji to take his turn next.

His spin is rougher than Nobara’s, the bottle is flying around and he’s chastised for dragging his turn out.  But the anticipation is worth it when it lands on Megumi, and Yuuji takes it upon himself to crawl on all fours to get to his best friend.  Megumi’s face is so red it looks hot to the touch, and he tries to swat at Yuuji when he practically crawls onto him, but everyone can see that when he finally plants his lips on his, it’s more of a kiss than Nobara’s turn had been.  Probably because it was reciprocated, just a little bit, until Megumi remembers they’re crowded by all of their peers, and he’s pushing Itadori by the shoulders with a laugh that borders between nervous and flirtatious.

“Okay okay! (y/n) take your damn turn already!” Megumi directs, and she puts her hands up in mock surrender at the order.

“Aye aye, captain” She hums, leaning forward to reach for the bottle.

Before she gives it a flick of her wrist, her eyes catch Yuuta’s.  He’s sitting directly across from her, making him the most perfect victim of her spin.  A tiny smile tugs at the corners of her lips as she spins the bottle, her eyes lingering on his a few moments longer before falling to watch her fate write itself.

Her spin is quicker than Yuuji’s, slowing down after just a few rotations, and lagging along the rug as it slowly passes the other players…

… and coming to a stop right to her left, where Maki was sitting.

The dark haired woman scoffs, giving (y/n) a raised brow and knowing smirk.  (y/n) masks her disappointment with amusement, throwing her head back in a short bark of a laugh before giving her kissing partner a wink.

“I told you, hot stuff,” She teases, leaning back into her place to cozy up closer to Maki, who rolls her eyes at the display.  “How do you feel about tongue?”

“Oh just can it and kiss me, (y/l/n)” Maki snaps.  

(y/n) giggles, before leaning in and giving her a swift peck on the lips.  It’s not nearly as fleeting as Nobara and Yuuji’s turn, but it at least lacked the element of disgust.

Maki took her turn almost wordlessly, eyes focused on the bottle as it spun and landed on Megumi once more.  The pair burst into laughter, and Maki jokingly settled on kissing the crown of his head.  Everyone agreed that was for the best, as no one wanted to see the cousins share a real kiss.

Next to Maki was Toge, who eagerly let out a string of rice ball ingredients as he spun the bottle and took his turn.

When it slowed and landed on (y/n) her eyes lit up in surprise, as though she’d forgotten she was even a player after her turn had been over.  The cursed speech user shyly looked over at her, and he must not have moved quick enough to finish his turn, because she slid forward in front of Maki, a grin splitting her lips as she neared him.  He’d already left his collar open in preparation for the game, but she grabbed the zipper anyways, tugging him forward, earning an echo of oohs from the more dramatic players in the circle.

Yuuji and Nobara, of course.

Toge’s eyes were unreasonably wide as (y/n) leaned in the rest of the way and planted her lips on his.

It wasn’t necessarily a steamy kiss, but it was longer than the kiss she’d given Maki, and it was noticeable.

Yuuta’s hand curled into the rough carpeting of the rug beneath him.  He hoped his face was neutral, even though his body language certainly wasn’t.  He knew it was just a game, and the pair pulled away in a matter of seconds.  But he couldn’t deny the pang of disappointment settling in his chest.  He’d agreed to play this dumb game on one silly little hope that he’d get to kiss the girl he’d been crushing on for over a year now, and it was strangely unsettling to see his best friend beat him to the chase.

Not that it was Toge’s fault.  Yuuta knew it wasn’t fair to feel any ounce of jealousy.  It was just a game.  It’s not like it meant anything to either of them.  And when it was over and Toge sent Yuuta an apologetic look as he nodded his head for him to take his turn, Yuuta tried to just forget it completely.

Besides, it’s his turn now, and with (y/n) sitting perfectly across from him on her knees with her hands tucked in her lap, he figured he had a pretty good chance of rigging it anyways.  How hard could it be to spin a bottle, anyways? 

After his turn was over and his kiss was wasted on Yuuji, Yuuta’s hopes began to plummet.  The group got a good laugh out of the obnoxiously loud smooch Yuuji had given him, but even though the vibe of the circle was one of laughter and joy, Yuuta felt like curling in on himself and pouting the rest of the night.

He barely paid any attention while Megumi took his turn, the last of the group to get to spin.  But at this point Yuuta had mentally checked out of the whole ordeal.  The carpet he was picking at seemed more appealing than a dumb kissing game anyways.

Why had he even agreed to this? As soon as the thought crossed his mind he felt like an idiot.  Hoping to kiss one girl in a group of seven seemed like a preposterous idea now.  He should have worked up the courage ages ago, yet here he was, hoping to use this immature party game as an excuse.  How was he supposed to talk himself up to doing it on his own now? After this failure of a night, Yuuta thinks maybe he was better off in the friendzone anyways.

It’s not until Maki is shoving at (y/n) and loudly declaring, “Again!?” That Yuuta snaps back into the present, and his head is whirling between the bottle Megumi had just spun, the neck pointing all-too perfectly at (y/n), and a shy amusement on both of their faces.

There’s a bubbly giggle that comes from her as she turns to Yuuji with a playful smirk.

“Try not to get jealous” She teases as she moves across the open space to meet Megumi in the middle of the circle.

With Yuuta being seated right next to the younger sorcerer, he has a front row seat to the way (y/n) gives him a sweet smile before her eyes flicker down to his mouth.  Yuuta really doesn’t want to watch her have her third kiss of the night, but he can’t tear his eyes away from the scene.  

It’s just a game.  It’s not like it means anything.

But on the surface it looks like it could mean something.  He wonders, as her eyes raise to meet Megumi’s again before she shuts them and leans in to plant her lips on his, if this is how she always kissed.  Was it always so premeditated? Did her eyes always sweep over the close up features of her lover before finally indulging? 

Yuuta fights the urge to shake his head when he finally tears his gaze away from the display.  He’s back to studying the scratchy grains of carpet when Megumi and (y/n) part, the former red in the face once more, the latter taking her spot between Maki and Yuuji again.

“That spot is cursed!” Nobara shouts what Yuuta had just been beginning to wonder about himself.

(y/n) chuckles, shrugging her shoulders.

“Oh really?” (y/n) muses, giving her a wiggle of her eyebrows as she narrowed her gaze on her thoughtfully.  “Or are you just saying that cause you’re getting jealous?” 

“Oh shut up and just move spots already” Nobara hissed back.  (y/n) grinned wide at her before clicking her tongue and eyeing the rest of the group.

“Fine,” She hums as she taps her chin.  “Who wants the good spot then?” 

“Salmon!” 

Before anyone could fight for her good-kissing-luck space, Toge is darting forward and practically yanking her from the spot to claim it for himself.  She laughs as she’s sent forward, almost directly into Yuuta, who’s hands shoot out to catch her if she really is thrown into the ground.  To her luck she catches herself on the ground, not without a wobble as she catches her balance.

In the back of his mind, where his hope still lingers, Yuuta thinks that this change in position could be good for him.  Now there had to be a chance for them to share a turn, right? Theoretically, if sitting across from each other wasn’t the right spacing, then sitting side by side had to be better.  All he had to do was essentially make the bottle come back to him, right? 

“What’re you thinkin’ about?” 

The whisper in his ear makes him startle, his eyes wide as he swivels his head to see (y/n) cozied up in the space next to him.  Her knees drawn to her chest, elbow propped atop them to keep her chin in her hand as she gazed at him.  She looked amused by the way he’d jumped at the sound of her voice, but thankfully she didn’t tease him for it.

“You look like you’re in your head,” She clarifies.  “You don’t like the game?”

He opens his mouth to tell her exactly how much he doesn’t like this game, but then the bottle spinning in front of them rolls to a stop, and (y/n’s) pulled away from what little and one-sided conversation she’d been having with Yuuta- for the umpteenth time tonight- and the group is in shambles from where it landed.

(y/n) can barely react as she looks down at the bottle perfectly pointed at her, yet again.

Half the group is whooping with their entertainment, amazed that for the fourth time (y/n) has been the lucky kisser.  The other half is groaning out of boredom of this repetitive game.  With only seven people playing it’s not like the odds were that random.  The game was bound to have some repeats soon.

And then there was Yuuta, who, if he was a cartoon character, would have a little storm cloud scribbled over his head.

(y/n) giggles as Nobara crawls forward, muttering under her breath about how unfair it was that (y/n) already had twice as many kisses as she did.  Once she’s close enough, (y/n) tilts forward, both of her hands cupping Nobara’s cheeks affectionately.

“Just close your eyes and pretend I’m her” She whispers quietly.  Nobara’s cheeks are pink, but before she can say anything, (y/n) shuts her eyes and completes the turn with a quick but sweet peck on her lips.

Yuuta watches as once again her eyes wander over Nobara’s face before she gives her the kiss she’s owed.  His stomach churns and he bites down on his cheek to keep from frowning.  He can’t make his annoyance obvious, not while everyone else is grinning and laughing.  So he gnaws on his cheek and keeps his sights set on his pinching fingers tugging and pulling at the carpet.

(y/n) bumps her shoulder into his when she settles back into her spot beside him again.  He glances over to see her giving him a sheepish little smile.  He could almost be convinced that she’s thinking the same thing he is- that it’s strange she’s gotten to kiss almost everyone in this room except for him.  

Key word being almost.  There was still one other person in the circle who hadn’t been gifted one of her precious kisses.

“I don’t really care for the game either” She resumes their previous topic in a quiet voice.  Yuuta can’t help but chuckle.

“Oh really? It appears you’re winning” He replies in a low voice.  Despite the twist of jealousy in his chest, there’s no malice in his words.  Only amusement.  (y/n) shrugs her shoulders, as if she could care less about the predicament she’d found herself in, which everyone else seemed to find hilarious.

“You don’t really win at spin the bottle, do you?” She muses, laying her arms atop her knees and resting her chin against them.  Her eyes never leave his, too allured by the deep blues that surround his dilated pupils.  An expression that Yuuta can’t really decipher flickers across her face.  “Unless of course you’re aiming to kiss somebody” She finishes the thought in an even softer volume.

Yuuta has to fight the urge to tug at the collar of his crewneck, suddenly feeling hot.  It must have been the drinking, and all the bodies piled into one room.  Surely it couldn’t have been the effect of one perfectly on the nose comment made by her, or the way she was looking at him now like she was waiting for him to confirm her thoughts.

He swallows the lump in his throat, Adam's apple bobbing as the dry swallow goes down roughly.  A small cough comes of this, and (y/n’s) laughing to herself and finally sparing him of her heavy eye contact.

Yuuji takes his turn with great excitement, spinning the bottle in front of him with more gentleness than his last turn.  This time it spins a normal amount before it starts to slow down.  When it drags along the carpet past Toge, and slows down even more as it passes Maki, the group begins to laugh before it even stops in front of (y/n), again.

Yuuta’s wide eyes hold a lethal amount of venom as they follow the path of the open end of the bottle.  Slowly but surely, it comes to a stop in front of (y/n).  Maki’s laughter is the loudest, sharp and almost cruel as she points at the girl, making sure she’s perfectly in the spotlight.

Yuuji almost looks apologetic as he meets her gaze, but a game is a game, and (y/n) drops her legs to fold them criss cross so that he can lean over the open circle to kiss her.

Yuuta can’t fight off his frown this time as he watches (y/n) kiss the last person that hadn’t gotten a turn with her yet.  His features fall into a state of utter heartbreak when her lashes flutter as her eyes sweep over Yuuji’s smiley face before she shuts her eyes and lets him plant a quick kiss on her lips.  

Surprisingly, Yuuji kisses her extremely fast.  Faster than he’d kissed both Megumi and Yuuta.  Even (y/n) seems surprised, her lips still slightly pursed when he’s already pulling away and going back to his spot in the circle.  Heer confusion is quickly washed away, replaced with what Yuuta hopes is relief.

“I think we’ve played this for long enough,” Yuuji rubs the back of his neck as he chuckles.  “No offense (y/n)”

She smiles brightly, shaking her head back at him.

“None taken, I’ve had my fair share.  No complaints here” 

The circle slowly disbands, Maki and Toge head for the kitchen to make more drinks, and shortly after Maki leaves the room Nobara is following behind.

Yuuji says something to Megumi that Yuuta barely catches which dives them both into conversation, sliding closer to one another on the floor in order to continue talking comfortably.

And that leaves (y/n) and Yuuta, both still seated on the rug that was starting to feel scratchy and uncomfortable after having sat there for so long.

“I’m getting warm,” (y/n) fills the silence first, standing and stretching her legs before nodding her head towards the door.  “I’m gonna step out for a bit, want to get some fresh air with me?” 

Yuuta thinks about it for a minute, even though his immediate answer is a resounding yes.  He pauses before standing and following her out of the room.

“Did you want to let Maki know you’re leaving?” He asks a little too late, once they’re already winding through the corridors on the way towards the doors.

“Nah,” (y/n) shakes her head.  “She’s about to be quite distracted by Nobara anyways,” She tells him quietly, her eyes meeting his with a devious glint in them.  “If anything, I’m doing them a favor.  They both owe me, anyways” 

He chuckles at that, having no clue what she meant by it at all.

“Are you making deals with all of our friends?” He asks, half curious, half teasing.

“Let’s just say they’re both jealous, jealous girls,” (y/n) smirks.

They reach the doors, and she turns around to walk backwards through it, using her elbows to push the heavy oak open for them to pass through.

“So a little game of spin the bottle was just what they needed.  Either they were going to finally get their chance, or I was gonna have to pucker up and spark a little romance myself” 

Yuuta laughs, and he can’t help but feel a little relieved to hear her admit at least some of those kisses were far from meaningful.  To her, anyways.

“I think you’re a little too good of a friend” He tells her, to which she laughs, eyes crinkling at their corners as she looks at him.  

They stay put at the front doors, the cool night breeze easing the leftover heat and nerves that they’d been trying to escape from.

“I’m a woman of few talents,” She teases.  “But kissing is one of them, so I may as well put it to good use, yeah?” 

Yuuta snorts, and before he can stop himself, he bluntly replies with, “Like I would know” 

He regrets the sarcastic remark as soon as it comes out of his mouth, and (y/n) watches him do so.  His eyes go wide and his mouth snaps shut, and she can practically see the apology forming in his mind.

She giggles, her smile stretching wide across her face as she gazes up at him.

“You’re right, touchy subject,” She muses.  “That’s not very fair, hm?” 

Yuuta laughs.  His cheeks flush with a rosy pink tint as he turns his head away, not taking her comment remotely serious.  His shoulders shake a bit as he continues to chuckle.  He thinks she must be messing with him, teasing him just like the others would have.  He’s so clouded by embarrassment- and obliviousness- that he misses the way she tilts her head at him.  She waits patiently for his nerves to settle, a curious smile on her face as she studies him.

Yuuta had always been interesting to her, in every sense of the word.  His status as a Special Grade Sorcerer was alluring enough, but she found his demeanor to be rather sheepish, and around her often anxious.  Sure, there were moments that he’d warm up and get comfortable around her, but (y/n) had grown used to his stuttering and nervous mannerisms.  In fact, it was something she’d come to find so cute about him.

They’d known each other for quite some time now, over a year.  And while they both would easily call the other a friend, Yuuta’s behavior hardly changed around her.  It was off at first, because she’d seen the way he’d gotten comfortable around their peers, no longer fearing Maki, or struggling to communicate with Toge.  Yet, whenever she approached him, he looked taken aback even by a simple hello.

Tonight had been a turning point for her, though.  Tonight she’d come up with a little theory as to why he was such a nervous wreck around her.  It only took a pair of crossed fingers behind her back to work up the courage to call him out on it.

Sure, compared to him she was the confident one, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t worried about embarrassing herself in front of him right now.

“Yuuta,” 

His attention is brought right back to her, his laughing ceased instantly upon hearing the soft and sweet way his name sounded when spoken by her so quietly.  Her lips tilt into a knowing smile, admiring how mesmerized he looked when his expression relaxes and his eyes are set on hers so steadily she could have mistaken him for being in a trance.

She’d wanted to say something, something flirty and light hearted about how she’d been hoping on their turns the bottle would’ve landed on each other just once, but despite the overpowering thought being what led the two of them out here, suddenly her mind is blank, thoughts replaced by the stronger, more overwhelming urge to just kiss him.

So she follows the instinct, and she shuffles forward.

Yuuta’s eyes grow wider with every inch of space she closes when she steps towards him.  His breath hitches and his throat bobs as her hands rest against his chest. Her touch is light, barely there, but he swears her palms burn right through to his skin, igniting his entire body.

Her eyes shift slowly from his, mentally tracing down the slope of his nose, lashes fluttering with the slow movement of her gaze.  He’s holding his breath, recognizing the way she glances over every feature, every dip curve and pigment in his face.  Being on the receiving end of this telltale sign of hers has the hair on the back of his neck standing up, and his heart is racing in his chest.

“Your heart is beating really fast,” 

If she’s teasing him, she certainly doesn’t sound like it.  Her smile brightens, eyes twinkling as they travel away from his sealed lips to his panicked eyes.  She presses her right hand a little harder against his chest, feeling his heart beat against it rapidly.  A tiny giggle escapes her, her cheeks warming up the longer she stares at him.

“I’d really like to kiss you,” She whispers, and his face goes from pink to red in a matter of seconds.  “If that’s alright?” 

Yuuta nods.

“Mhm, yeah- yeah that’s f-fine by me” He stammers back, and her little smile widens to a grin at his adorable response.

“Okay,” She hums, pushing onto the tips of her toes.  One of her hands, the one that isn’t counting the beats of his heart, slides over his collarbone, and around the side of his neck.  She can feel his pulse there, too.  “Close your eyes, Yuu” She giggles again at how intently he’s staring at her, mapping her every action.  He complies with the deman, his eyelashes fluttering as he shuts his eyes right away.

(y/n) only hesitates for a moment longer, unable to help herself from admiring how much more handsome he is up close.  Such a thing shouldn’t have been possible, but this was Okkotsu Yuuta we’re talking about.  Her fingers push into the hair hanging over the nape of his neck, gently pulling him towards her as her own eyes fall shut.

Yuuta’s frozen for a moment when their lips finally do meet, his nerves crawling up his spine and seizing his heart for just a second.  Her lips were so soft he was dying to know if everyone else tonight felt the same spark of warmth that he felt right now.

At that thought, he came back down to earth and realized he needed to seize this moment while he had the chance.  The others had gotten meaningless kisses, and he couldn’t accept that this would be the same.

His hands cradle her jaw as he pulls her in closer to deepen their kiss.  Yuuta hasn’t kissed a lot of people- he’s kissed one person actually, and he was eleven- but when her velvety lips mold into his and she reciprocates his eagerness, he thinks she might be the greatest kisser of all time, gifted with the world’s most perfect pair of pretty and sweet lips.

(y/n) curls her fingers more securely in his hair when she thinks he’s going to pull away.  He acknowledges the silent instruction, taking in a sharp inhale through his nose to accommodate his aching chest.  She might have been part of the blame for that ache, but he wouldn’t dare hold her accountable for it.  Oxygen be damned.

He tilts his head to have better access to the plush of her bottom lip, and his heart is racing again when he feels her smile against him.

No one else got this out of that stupid game, he thinks to himself as he feels a soft pant hit his hot mouth.  His thumb traces along her jaw, pausing at the junction where it meets her throat.  She tilts her head further towards him in a small movement, pushing impossibly closer.  Although her own heart rate is starting to skyrocket, dangerously close to meeting the pace of his, their kisses remain gentle.  Soft and slow, meaning in each one.

Yuuta’s head is spinning, and eventually the quick breaths of air through his nose isn’t enough, and he has to pull away, just enough to catch his breath in fast but deep pants.  He keeps his gentle hold on her face, and they’re still so close that their noses are touching, and the small space between them is their shared air.  His eyes are focused on her as soon as he parts from their kiss, with heavy lids and blown pupils, he’s memorizing every pretty feature.  From parted lips curling into a shy smile, to the deepening color in her cheeks, he takes it all in as though he’d lose his sense of sight tomorrow.

(y/n’s) slower to open her eyes, still lost in the moment, ten feet off the ground and not ready to float back down yet.  When Yuuta chuckles, she feels the deep vibration from his chest resonate against her palms.  He feels warmer, the kind of warmth she’d only felt from a comforting fireplace after a long brutal winter day.  The kind of warmth that comes in sun kissed cheeks and soft, hot sand under bare feet that hardly remembered just how good the sensation could be.  Her heart flutters in her chest before she finally opens her eyes to meet his.  She’d felt his stare before she’d actually seen it.  It was what brought the color to her cheeks.

The pad of Yuuta’s index finger grazes over her pulse point, and a tiny smile forms on his face.

“Your heart’s beating really fast” He says, and when she lets out a breathless laugh, his smile turns into a full on beam, proud of himself for repeating her words back to her. “Yeah, well,” She huffs out, still taking shallow breaths and not quite filling her lungs properly with air.  But it was hard when he was looking at her like that.  She pauses before confirming his own thoughts.  “I was waiting for that kiss all night” ___

tags of ppl who pressured me into writing this: @bai-kage @sugasquatchwrites