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#[ i wanted to get a bit of stuff done today; but i had too much prepping to do for the big family meal tonight. ]
extralively · 1 day
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School Stories: In the Closet
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Gojo Satoru/Original Female Character Pre-Relationship, Bickering, Teenage Shenanigans, Baby Panda Plays Matchmaker 1,806 words Also posted on AO3 Summary: Yura was just trying to get her chores done at the end of the school day, too bad that a young Panda suddenly decided to take matters into his own hands regarding a certain matter involving her and Gojo...
Hey everyone! I bring you another work in the Satoru/Yura series, and this time I actually plan to make School Stories a series of its own with quick oneshots set during their school days! There'll probably be no plot-related stuff here, mostly just slice of life and early SatoYura shenanigans, because that's fun to revisit every now and then, hehe.
If you just got here and haven't read any of the previous installments of this series, and all you want is some Gojo/OC slice of life shenanigans, then you should be able to read this as standalone! All you need to know is that Yura and Gojo are in the same year, and he was a massive asshole to her at beginning lol. They've since come to a sort of understanding and become friends, but they still bicker a lot.
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“Who put the mop behind everything?” Gojo asked, and Yura only crossed her arms with an impatient sigh.
“Hurry up,” she called, watching the white-haired teenager rummage through the supply closet. It was the end of the school day, and they were supposed to clean up their classroom—Yura and Gojo were on mopping the floor and wiping surfaces duties, while Shoko and Geto were left to take out the trash and tidy everything up. However, Yura couldn’t even get started on her own chores until they were able to fetch all the supplies from this closet, which Gojo was taking forever to do.
“I’m trying,” he called, immediately tossing an empty bucket out of the supply storage, and Yura scowled at him making a mess. “But someone decided to bury all the supplies behind a bunch of junk.”
Yura tapped her foot in irritation, unable to help and hurry things up as the closet was way too cramped for two people.
As Yura was about to shoot another retort, a flash of black and white passed by her peripheral vision, and she turned her head to look. It was Panda, peering at them from behind the corner.
“Panda,” Yura greeted him. “Didn’t know you were stopping by today.”
The small, not-quite-a-panda creature would occasionally visit the school with Yaga, and Yura had long since become acquainted with him. She still wasn’t sure of all the details regarding Panda’s existence—something of a mutated cursed corpse created by Yaga that could function on his own, and that had apparently gotten Yaga into a lot of trouble back in the day—but Yura ended up deciding not to worry too much about it and simply view the small panda as Yaga’s sort-of son. He was pretty cute, as Shoko would repeatedly say as she’d try to squish the small-sized not-a-panda in a hug, and surprisingly smart for what was technically a five year old child.
So it was a little weird when Panda didn’t answer her, only stared. He could talk—and sometimes he would talk a lot—but for some reason he only stared at them with his eyebrows-area furrowed in concentration.
“Panda?” Yura called again, as Gojo still fumbled with all the stuff inside the supply closet.
Without a word, Panda suddenly marched up to them, halting his steps right next to her. And he stared.
“Wakatsuki,” Gojo suddenly called from inside the closet. “Don’t just stand there.”
“We can’t both fit in there,” she replied, tearing her eyes away from the small, furry creature to shoot another scowl in Gojo’s direction. “...Mr. Special Grade that can’t even get a mop out of the closet.”
She heard Gojo huff, disgruntled. She bit back a grin.
“Here,” he suddenly called out, briefly pulling back to hand her a mop. “Here’s that damn mop, now I just need to get the other stuff.”
Yura stepped closer to grab the offered item, and that was when the closet door suddenly swung closed, pushing her into the small, cramped space.
A garbled cry of surprise escaped her mouth as she stumbled forward, her hands scrambling to grasp at anything in front of her. Anything turned out to be a warm, not-that-soft body, her own body immediately colliding against Gojo’s as she fell into him.
“Wakatsuki, what the hell—” he let out, and she felt an arm wrap around her waist to keep her from falling further and, especially, face-first into the closet’s wall. However, something was pulled from the higher shelves with the movement, a pile of (thankfully) not too heavy stuff immediately falling onto them and pushing them closer together.
And in the middle of it all, there was the distinct click of the lock behind them, and what she could only describe as giggling fading away into the distance.
“Panda!” she called, the only possible culprit for quite literally pushing them into this situation. But it was too late, and there was only silence outside. “Shit...”
Yura’s hands tried to find purchase somewhere, anywhere, but the only solid surface she could find was Gojo himself.
And he was too close.
Yura let out a series of expletives as her feet couldn’t find solid ground, too much junk scattered around their legs for her to actually find somewhere to step. “Stop—Stop that,” Gojo said as she kept struggling.
“You stop—” Her fingers tightened on Gojo’s uniform as her efforts only made her slip further, her weight dropping against him. His arm around her was the only thing keeping her from fully falling on top of the scattered junk.
He grunted. “Quit moving—” he said, and she felt his arm suddenly tighten around her. That did make her more secure in place... but that also brought her even closer.
Closer—way too close.
Yura froze.
For a long moment, all she could hear was her breathing in the small, dark space. Well, her breathing, and his. And not just hear, but feel—her chest was pressed against Gojo’s, so she could feel every time it heaved up and down along with hers. And it was like her mind slowly took stock of every single spot their bodies touched—which was almost everywhere. One of his legs was pushed up between hers, hitching higher every time she scrambled for purchase, his arm firm around her waist and keeping her there.
“...Uh...” Gojo let out. His breath puffed over her face.
Was it getting hotter in here, or...?
“...Door,” she suddenly called. It was dark, but she thought she could see his brows furrowing. “Get the door,” she explained.
Gojo was quiet for a moment, and then he suddenly moved. Yura briefly realized his weight had been leaning against the wall as his upper body surged forward, taking her with him—but she supposed this was nothing for him with his ridiculous strength. She was able to find a little bit of purchase on the ground as he straightened them both up, but not enough, and as his arm unwrapped itself from around her to reach for the door, she was forced to hold on to him tighter.
“...It’s locked,” he said, the sound of a jiggling doorknob filling the closet.
She grunted. “Fucking—"
Gojo let out a huff. “Did Panda really lock us in here?”
Yura also let out a huff. “Yep.”
“I’m gonna tell Yaga that his little experiment is turning into quite the little shit,” he grumbled.
And Yura couldn’t help herself. “...Well, you’re one to talk,” she half mumbled.
Gojo huffed again, turning to look down at her face... and then immediately looking away as they were still too close.
Yura let out a breath as she too looked off to the side. “Now what?” she asked. She was pretty sure she had left her phone back in the classroom with her things, but maybe Gojo still had his so they could call someone to get them out of there. If not... “Do we scream for help or something?”
“I mean, I can teleport.”
Ah. Right.
But then she narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you dare teleport away and leave me here all alone.”
She heard him bark out a laugh. “Scared of the dark, Wakatsuki?”
Yura turned her head to him with a scowl, about to retort—and then her nose bumped his chin and she quickly turned away again. “Just get us out of here.”
-
Yura almost felt relieved at the feeling of Gojo’s teleporting encasing them, the cramped-up space giving way to some actual room to move around. Darkness turned into light, and Yura’s feet finally found their footing, but then she looked to the side and immediately locked eyes with Shoko’s questioning gaze.
...Hold on.
Yura was frozen for a moment, her brain still trying to make sense of the sudden change of scenery. Gojo had teleported them both out of the closet—straight into the classroom they had been using. The one where Shoko and Geto were.
“...Satoru,” she heard Geto’s voice suddenly drawl out, and her eyes shifted to look at him. His lips were tilted up in a sly smile aimed straight at her and Gojo. “You guys been having fun?”
Yura blinked. And her brain suddenly processed the fact that they hadn’t actually moved after teleporting so Gojo still had his arms around her... with their bodies still pressed together.
Something snapped inside of her.
“G-Get off!” she suddenly exclaimed, pushing Gojo away as hard as she could. It seemed to have sent him stumbling backwards, but Yura was too busy to congratulate herself for catching him off guard when her cheeks felt like they were bursting into flames.
“Ow, Wakatsuki, what the hell...” Gojo grumbled.
Yura eventually raised her gaze, meeting Shoko’s eyes again. Unfortunately, Yura did not like the look she found on the other girl’s face.
“You two were supposed to be fetching the supplies,” Shoko said, amusement hiding behind her impassive tone. “Not cozying up together.”
Yura’s cheeks were still burning, and she refused to look in Gojo’s direction. “That’s not—!”
“No!” a different voice suddenly yelled from the doorway. It was the culprit himself—Panda—standing there in shock.“You weren’t supposed to be out so soon!” He paused. “Go back!”
Gojo snapped his head towards the doorway, his eyes shooting glares at the mutated cursed corpse even from behind his glasses. “You pulling pranks now, you little furball?” he gritted out. He took one step towards the young not-panda, who seemed to have sensed what was to come and immediately bolted. “I’ll get ya and teach you a lesson, come back here!”
As Gojo ran off chasing after Panda, the other three students were left alone in the classroom, and Yura tried to get her flushed cheeks back in control. And in the meantime, she refused to make eye contact with neither Shoko nor Geto... who had turned his gaze to her, amused.
“So...” Shoko eventually started. “What just happened?”
Honestly, Yura had no idea.
-
Bonus:
“You locked them in a closet?” Yaga asked, his face incredulous as he stared at his small creation.
Panda only nodded, eyes big and wide and with seemingly no regrets.
Yaga let out a sigh. “...Why?”
Panda didn’t miss a beat. “They need to kiss.”
Yaga raised an eyebrow high up. “They need to what?” he asked.
“Kiss,” Panda replied. “They gotta kiss.”
Now, where the hell had Panda gotten this idea from, Yaga had no idea.
He sighed, rubbing his face with a hand.
“Masamichi,” Panda called, and Yaga peered down through his fingers. There was more? “You need to try it sometime.”
“Try it? Try what?”
Panda nodded. “Locking them in a closet,” he stated. His small face became thoughtful. “Just have to make sure Satoru can’t teleport...”
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End notes: My personal headcanon is that Panda is an unusually perceptive person, and hey, it's actual canon that he likes to play matchmaker!! So let's say he started early, echoing the thoughts of a lot of commenters in this series saying they wish they could lock Yura and Satoru in a closet to sort things out lmao. Too bad Satoru can teleport...
(Basically I wrote a mention of Panda locking them in a closet in one of the main story's chapters and I felt like I had to actually write out the incident lol)
Anyway, thank you for reading, and let me go back to writing the main story now ᕕ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )ᕗ
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orchideae · 4 months
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🎄🥳🥂Merry Christmas, everyone! If you're like me and you celebrate the holiday tonight, enjoy the festivities, the foods and the presents! I hope you guys have an absolutely wonderful evening and/or night!!
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zemnarihah · 1 year
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ok i'm back FUCK my homework. literally i could just fuck off for the rest of the semester and still pass all my classes whoooo cares
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soaps-mohawk · 3 months
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 5: What I Want
Summary: You begin your training with Ghost, but not everything goes as smoothly as you'd hoped. At least you're learning how to want things, and that it won't kill you if you ask for them.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader, some Ghost x Soap
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, oral sex, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, suggestive content, language, brief violence, reader has a breakdown
A/N: I know I was supposed to rest, but I couldn't help myself. I just had to get this one done. I was feeling it. We're finally getting into the good stuff here. Things will kind of pick up after this part, so I'm really looking forward for that.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
(Gif pulled from google)
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You tug nervously at your sleeve, feeling exactly as you did when you had to sit in the director’s office at The Institute. Only, you never got in trouble there. You had never been summoned because you misbehaved. You made it a point not to get into trouble, avoiding it at all costs. 
You’ve been here just over a week and you’ve already messed up. 
Price is staring at you across his desk, leaning on his elbows as his blue eyes bore into you. You’re not staring at Price, you think. No, you’ve come face to face with The Captain. He’s angry, though you can’t be entirely sure. You’ve never seen him truly angry. You’re waiting on the reprimanding, the punishment, for him to tell you they’re sending you back because you’re too much trouble. 
“I want you to tell me exactly what happened.”
You flinch at his voice, half expecting him to start shouting but he sounds almost calm. There’s a strain to his voice, like he’s restraining himself. He’s doing it for your sake, you think. 
“Ghost and I were walking back from the mess when one of the alphas called out to me. He...he asked if I was going to go spread my legs for ‘that freak’ and he said he could offer me a better time.” You swallow thickly, Price’s shoulders tensing just slightly. “I don’t know what happened...I just suddenly felt so angry and it’s like I lost control of myself and I went up to him and he asked if I was gonna take him up on his offer and that he’d like to bend me over and stare at my sweet ass all night...and then I hit him, sir.” 
“Good.” 
You look up at Price in surprise at his answer, your eyes widening a bit. “S-sorry, sir?” 
“I have little tolerance for alphas that think it’s alright to speak crudely to omegas, especially those they were explicitly told to let be. You saved me a lot of paperwork today. Simon would have done a lot worse had you not gotten to him first.” He moves the papers on his desk aside, holding out his hand. “Let me see.” 
You stare at his hand for a moment before you realize he’s talking about your hand. You push your sleeve up, putting your hand in his. Your knuckles have swollen a bit and bruised, tender to the touch as he runs his thumb over them. 
“Simon told me you asked him to teach you to fight.” He says, closing his fingers around your hand. 
“Well, not so much fight, sir.” You say, staring at your hands. “Maybe just how to throw a decent punch.” 
“I’d say the one you threw today was at least half-decent. Corporal Allen is sporting quite the bruise on his face.” The corner of his lips lift in a smile. “You won’t have to worry about him anymore. He’ll be properly dealt with and they’ll all be receiving a lecture on proper base etiquette.” 
“So...am I in trouble, sir?” You ask, pulling your hand back slowly as he releases it. 
“No, you were simply defending yourself after Corporal Allen made a pass at you. Just don’t make it a habit of going around punching alphas.” He smiles. 
“I’ll try not to, sir.” You say, relieved that you weren’t about to get punished for your mistake. 
“Go on.” He nods towards the door. “I’m sure the boys are waiting for you.” 
“Thank you, sir.” You say, standing up from your chair, heading towards the door. 
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Price leans back in his chair as the door closes, the sweet scent of caramel and strawberries still permeating his office. He breathes it in for a moment before pulling out his phone, scrolling through the contacts. 
“You’ll be delighted to hear our girl punched an alpha in the face today.” He says once the other line picks up. 
“She did what?” Laswell asks, genuine surprise in her tone. 
“One of the Corporals made a pass at her, and she left quite the bruise on his cheek. She’s turning into quite the spitfire.” 
“I told you she would fit right in. Underneath all that institute-taught BS there’s quite the personality. How is she settling in?” 
“She’s softening up to the betas already. Still a bit fidgety, but she’s found a way to get Simon to warm up to her.” 
“Oh? How so?” 
“She asked him to teach her to fight.” Price grins. 
Laswell chuckles. “I told you she’s smart. Just make sure he’s gentle with her.” 
“Don't worry, I reminded him to go easy on her. I think it will be good for both of them. Some forced proximity will be good for Simon and she’ll get to learn a few things that could be helpful.” 
“So long as she doesn’t go around trying to fight more alphas.” 
“She’s already promised not to. The Corporal got off easy. I can only imagine what Simon might have done to him.” 
“I’m glad to hear things are going well, John. I worry about her sometimes, but I know you boys will take good care of her.” 
“We’re doing our best.” 
“If you ever need anything, you know you can call.” 
“I know. I’ll keep you updated as her heat gets closer.” 
“Good. I’d hate to have to file that paperwork.” 
Price grimaces. “I know. I hope you don’t have to.” 
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You’re tying your shoes as the knock sounds on the door. You’re not sure how they manage to do it, always seeming to catch you at the perfect moment. You’re glad Kate thought to get you some more active-wear type clothing, though perhaps she expected you’d be getting involved in their training or at least start a bit of your own once you arrived, just as she had thought to get you outdoorsy clothes too. 
You open the door, staring up at the hulking form of Ghost. 
“Come on.” He grunts, turning on his heel to walk down the hallway. 
You quickly close your door, hurrying after him. Not much has changed since your request for him to train you, though you didn’t really expect it to. Not at first, at least. You still have to prove yourself to him. Simply existing and getting involved in their lives would not be enough. 
He escorts you to the gym, a building you haven’t been in yet. There’s a few soldiers milling around, most of them in the weight room. There’s a pool across from the weight room, for more than just swimming, you think. Your father had talked about his own water survival training. You can only imagine the kind of water training they go through. 
Ghost leads you towards the back of the gym, unlocking a door near the exit. It’s set up not unlike a dojo, mats on the floor and punching bags and other training equipment along the walls. Ghost empties his pockets, setting his things on a bench before removing his sweatshirt. 
You can’t help but stare, only ever having seen him in long sleeves. His muscles bulge beneath his t-shirt, the first bit of skin revealed to you besides his neck, chin, and hands. Your eyes are drawn to his arms, taking in the sheer size of them. 
Tattoos. 
He has a sleeve of tattoos on his left arm. You have a desire to look at them closer, to trace each one but you wouldn’t dare. Not right now. You pull off your own sweatshirt, folding it and setting it on the bench, leaving you in just a t-shirt and your leggings. 
You fail in your attempt not to stare as he walks towards the center of the mat in his t-shirt and sweatpants, swallowing nervously. He turns to face you, motioning for you to approach with two of his fingers. Your face warms as you hurry onto the mat, coming to stand in front of him. 
“Let me see.” He says, holding out his hand. 
You stare at it for a moment before your brain catches up, and you put your right hand into his. You ignore the feeling of his fingers wrapping around your hand, lifting it so he can inspect your still bruised knuckles. 
“We’ll start with dodging.” He says, releasing your hand, taking a step back. “Let me see your stance.” 
You part your feet a little, bringing your fists up to your face. His shoulders shake in a quiet huff of a laugh as he stares at you. 
“You need to stagger your stance more.” He says, circling you. “Otherwise,” Hands push you from behind, and you nearly avoid face planting into the floor. “You’re too easy to knock over. The last thing you want is the fight to end up on the floor. You won’t be getting back up if you let your opponent overpower you that much. Again.” He motions to you. 
You set up your stance again, widening your feet just a bit. 
“Good.” He says, moving to stand in front of you. “These protect your face.” He says, hands wrapping around your wrists, raising your hands just a bit. “You get hit in the face...” 
“I won’t be getting back up.” You finish for him. 
You know most fights end up with both opponents on the ground. You’d watched your brothers wrestle and play fight enough to know that. You’re not here to learn how to win a fight, only how to protect yourself enough until you can find space to run. 
You barely have time to stumble back as his fist swings at you, nearly losing your footing. “Hey! You could warn me first.” 
“You think someone attacking you is going to warn you?” He asks. 
He has a point. 
“Use your legs.” He says as you set yourself up again. “Move side to side if you can instead of ducking under the punch, but if you have to, don’t let your eyes leave your opponent.” 
You see this punch coming, ducking to your right to avoid getting hit. 
“Good.” He says, repeating the motion with his left hand. “Stay focused.” 
You continue with the same motion a few times, already starting to feel a bit fatigued. Running is one thing, but strength is another. Most omegas aren’t naturally strong, nor are they inclined to increase their strength. That’s what alphas and their packs are for. It’s not unheard of, though, for omegas to increase their physical strength. Perhaps you’ll need to consider looking into doing that as well. 
Ghost takes a step back, letting you rest for a moment. You’re breathing heavily, though he’s hardly looking fatigued at all. He’s used to this, you remind yourself. He probably throws more punches in a day in the field than he’s thrown at you so far in 30 minutes. 
“Now, let’s make it a bit more realistic.” He says, a low rumble at the edge of his voice. 
A wave of scent hits you, your brain nearly short-circuiting. Fear pulses through you, ozone burning your nostrils. You stumble backwards, landing on your back on the mat. You’re breathing heavily, every cell in your body screaming at you to run or submit. 
“That’s...that’s n-not fair!” You say, your hands trembling from the adrenaline coursing through you. 
“Any alpha you fight is going to use every natural advantage they have over you.” Ghost says, stalking towards you. You can practically see it, the purebred alpha within him coming through. “You need to learn to protect yourself against them.” 
“That's...that’s not possible.” You say, the edge of a whine detectable in your tone. 
He kneels down over you, crowding into your space despite the souring of your scent. It doesn’t even seem to phase him as he forces you flat on your back, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head. You stare up at him, every fiber of your being screaming at you to bare your throat, submit, give in. 
Don’t back down. 
Don’t back down. 
You push past the fear, the instincts screaming at you as you drive your knee up into his stomach. He lets out a grunt but it doesn’t phase him, his hand wrapping around your leg, using his sheer strength to flip you onto your stomach under him. He presses against you, body folding over yours. You resist the urge, the instinct to press back into him, to be a good omega. 
“If an alpha gets you onto the floor...” He says, warm breath fanning your ear through his mask. “You won’t want to get back up.” 
His face presses against your neck as he inhales deeply before he pushes himself up, grabbing the back of your shirt and hauling you to your feet as well. You’re shaking, your heart thumping in your chest. Your head feels fuzzy, your brain buzzing a bit. Your omega is confused, poised to strike but she’s not sure against who. Ghost isn’t a threat, and you know that, but he had just proved how easily he could be. Any of them could be, with a simple scent change and their sheer strength. 
“Again.” He says, getting into a fighting stance. 
“You can’t expect me to fight after that.” You say, your voice breathless. 
“If you’re in a real fight, you won’t have much of a choice.” He says, the rumble still audible around his own voice. 
He’s right. If someone is attacking you, it’s likely going to be to kill, or to try and take you from them. Your omega shifts uncomfortably as you raise your shaking hands to guard your face. You continue to dodge punches, hitting the ground more and more as you continue to get tired. You’re going to be sore, still feeling your hike through the woods a bit. 
The door opens, giving you a moment to breathe. Soap enters, a grin on his face. 
“Ah, the wee lass is still breathin’.” He says, leaning against the wall. “Came tae make sure ye hadnae killed ‘er.” 
You can practically hear Ghost roll his eyes, his back turned to you as he says something to Soap. You can’t hear what it is, the ringing in your ears too loud. Your omega is still worked up, still poised to strike, more so now in your exhausted state. You push yourself off the floor, not having a moment to think things through before you’re throwing yourself at Ghost’s back. 
He turns before you hit him, catching you and flipping you onto your back on the mat. You hit hard, the breath forced from your lungs at the impact.
“Christ, Simon!” Soap shouts, hurrying to your side. “Ye tryin’ tae break her, ye numpty?” 
“Don’t do that again.” Ghost growls at you, stomping over to grab his things before leaving the room. 
“Easy, hen.” Soap soothes you as you gasp for air, his hand gently rubbing your shoulder. “Be over before ye know it.” 
Slowly the paralysis of your diaphragm begins to lessen, your stomach still aching but the air comes easier now. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to fight the tears. You’ve messed it up. One day and you’ve already done more damage than you would have had you not asked him to teach you to fight. 
“Don’ worry, hen. He’s just worked up, that's all.” Soap says, brushing a damp strand of hair from your forehead. 
“It’s his fault.” You murmur. 
“Maybe, but yer scent...surprised you didn’t notice, hen.” Soap wiggles his brows. 
Your face warms. You hadn’t noticed the uptick of muskiness in the room, the heady scent of arousal before now.
It’s not yours. 
“Me?” You ask, letting Soap help you into a seated position. 
Soap smirks. “It wasnae me that tented his breeks this time.” 
Your face warms even more, your body feeling like it might explode. 
“Come on, hen.” He says, slipping his hands under your arms to lift you to your feet. “There’s still time tae shower before breakfast.” 
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“I can assume you know why you were called in here sooner than our normal weekly meeting time.” Dr. Keller says as you sit in her office. 
“Because I punched Corporal Allen.” You say with a wince. 
Dr. Keller nods. “Indeed. I just want to make sure you’re feeling alright, after that. Getting into an altercation with an alpha can be tough.” 
“I don’t think I’d call it an altercation.” You say quietly. 
“Maybe not,” She says, shuffling her papers. “But standing up to an alpha can be daunting.” 
“I wasn’t alone.” You shrug. “Ghost was there.” 
“I saw both yours and Lieutenant Riley’s account of what happened. I’m wondering, would you have confronted him if you were alone?” 
Her question makes you think for a moment. Would you have stopped? Would you have confronted him, much less punched him if you were alone, or even with one of the others? No, you likely would have ignored him and kept walking like you did with Gaz. You’d likely have gone straight to your room and cried a little out of embarrassment and disgust. 
“No, ma’am.” You say quietly. “I don’t think so.” 
Dr. Keller nods. “You’re aware of Lieutenant Riley’s status.” 
You nod, a frown pulling at your brows. How did she figure it out? “Yes, ma’am.” 
“I know because I have access to their medical records.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s required for statuses to be present in medical records since purebreds have to be treated differently, just as alphas, betas, and omegas have to be treated differently.” 
You do know that. You know that an injured alpha can get defensive if they feel cornered. You know omegas can die from stress if they’re not taken care of correctly. You know betas can get overwhelmed by large groups of injured people all in the same place without proper training to filter out the scents of agony and suffering. 
“I think you reacted to his scent.” Dr. Keller continues. “You mentioned feeling a sudden rush of uncontrollable anger. Do you remember smelling anything at that moment?” 
You nod. “Ozone.” 
She nods, the pieces beginning to come together in your own head. “I’m sure you’ve figured out how different purebred alpha’s are and how much more potent their scents are. Your own status makes you more susceptible to their scents and the changes in them. You were reacting to the change in his scent. Your omega sensed a threat, and took over for a moment to defend you. It’s a natural response in omegas towards those they see as protectors, or even packmates.” 
Your eyes widen a bit at her words. Ghost is technically your packmate. He’s an alpha in your pack, but you’ve never considered that you see him as anything but. He has defended you, and he had defended you not long before your altercation with Corporal Allen. Had your omega begun to cling to him out of a sheer need for protection after something like what happened in the mess? 
You would like Ghost to see you as more than just an omega in his pack, more than just Price’s omega. You know he’d never claim you, but you’d at least like to get onto friendly terms with him. Soap said it had taken proving himself before Ghost started to accept him. You’re hoping your time spent learning how to fight helps you prove yourself, that you’re not a threat or even a risk. That maybe you can be an acceptable omega for his pack. 
“Aside from this incident, how are you settling in? How are things going with your new pack?” 
“Fine, I guess.” You shrug, starting to pick at your sleeve again. “Ghost is teaching me to defend myself.”
“Oh? Does this have something to do with what happened with Corporal Allen? Or is there a different reason?” Dr. Keller asks. 
“I mean, partially that but also, Ghost, he’s...hard to get along with.” You grimace. “I know that in relationships, a good way to bond with people is to get into their hobbies so you have something in common. Ghost...ghost speaks in violence and I think it would help ease some of my fears if I can at least defend myself.” 
“I think this is a great idea. It allows for some bonding time between the two of you, and it can also be beneficial to ease your anxiety a bit. As long as you’re being careful and you don’t get hurt.” She says, giving you a pointed look. 
You think back to Ghost flipping you onto your back on the mat, narrowly missing getting hit, how he’d pinned you down using his own scent against you. “He’s being careful.” You say, clearing your throat. “Price would put him through the ringer if something happened. Even just as an accident.” 
“How are things going with Price?” She asks, writing something down. 
You shrug. “Fine. He involved me in some training this past weekend. We hiked out to a watchtower and the others tried to follow my scent. We got to spend some time together while we waited.” 
“Have you done much of that? Spending time together?” She asks. 
You shake your head. “Not really. He’s...busy. A lot.” 
“You should start making an effort to get to know him more.” Dr. Keller says. “It’ll make it easier once your heat hits if you’re familiar with him. Have you knelt for him yet?” 
You shake your head again, not wanting to answer out loud. 
“Why not?” She asks. 
“He still hasn’t asked me to.” You murmur. 
“Do you know why omegas kneel for their alphas?” She asks. 
You nod. “It’s good for our brains and bodies. It helps relax us and soothes our omega, makes it easier to process stressful events and can prevent stress related diseases later in life.” 
Dr. Keller nods. “Correct. It’s an important first step in building that bond between an alpha and an omega, when it’s done correctly.” 
Bad alphas can use kneeling to control omegas, put them in certain mindsets, make them more subservient. You know this, you’d heard stories from your fellow omegas after watching their parents. That’s not kneeling. You never had the heart to tell them it was so much worse. 
“Do you want to kneel for him?” She asks you. 
That word again. 
You do want to kneel for him. You’ve wanted to since this past Saturday in the watchtower. You’ve felt that urge, that drive to drop to your knees beside him and let yourself go, let him carry everything you’ve been feeling over the last week. 
You nod slowly, ripping one of the strings off your sleeve. You’re fighting the tears, fighting the emotions welling up inside you. You can feel them building, pushing against your stomach and your chest, threatening to burst right out of your skin and leave you nothing but an empty carcass. You’re breathing has picked up, shaking a bit as you inhale deeply. 
“Why haven’t you asked?” Dr. Keller asks, her brows furrowing as she stares at you. 
“I don’t know how!” The words tear from your lips, almost echoing as they bounce off the walls like projectiles. You haven’t so much as raised your voice in years, much less to a person of authority, but you can’t stop. The dam has been breached. “Everyone keeps asking me what I want, but I don’t know how to want!” Tears cascade down your cheeks, your breaths coming in sharp gasps. You cover your face with your hands, muffling your sobs. “I’m not supposed to want.” 
“Hey,” Dr. Keller’s voice is soft as she kneels in front of you, her hands trying to gently pry yours away from your face. “Who told you that?” 
“That’s what we’re taught!” You hiccup, letting her pull your hands from your face. The tears are still falling, lips trembling as you sob. “We’re supposed to be good omegas. Obedient and serve our alphas. We don’t want anything, we’re only supposed to give.” 
“Well that’s a load of bullshit if I’ve ever heard it.” 
Dr. Keller’s words shock you into reality, your sobs halting with a sharp inhale. You stare at her, the tears still spilling from your eyes. Your hands are closed into fists, your sore knuckles aching from the strain. 
“You’re an omega. It’s in your nature to want, to need. You can’t help your alpha if your own needs aren’t being met first. It’s okay to need things, to want things. Are there things you want?” 
“Softer blankets. Fluffier pillows. A nightlight. Something to put on my walls. Strawberry scented body wash. Some goddamn authentic Mexican food.” 
Dr. Keller chuckles lightly. “I can agree with you on that last one.” She squeezes your arms gently. “You’re allowed to ask for things. You’re not a soldier, and even they are allowed to have things of their own, comfort items, with them. It doesn’t have to be material things either that you ask for. I’m sure your pack would find a way to bend over backwards if you asked them.” 
She’s right. The book says omegas can hold great power over the members of their packs if they try. A mix of playing their instincts and the right behavior and temperament can have betas and alphas wrapped around your finger. The idea of having such control over four powerful men makes your head spin. 
“I want Soap to kiss me.” You blurt out, your face warming as you hastily wipe at your tears to hide. 
“Oh?” Dr. Keller’s eyebrows raise as she looks at you. “This is a new development.” 
“We...we almost did...a couple days ago.” You say, burying your face in your hands. “But I stopped it because I thought maybe Price...but then he said he didn’t care...” 
Dr. Keller gently wraps her hands around your wrists, lowering your hands. “It’s okay to want that, and it’s okay to want to kneel for Price. I bet he’d be delighted if you asked him. I bet he was waiting because he didn't think you were ready for it yet.”  
The calming beta scent washes over you, Dr. Keller projecting it to try and help you calm down. Your tears have stopped, your breathing starting to slow as the gentle almond scent goes straight to your brain. 
“I’d like us to still meet for our regularly scheduled appointment this week, but I’m giving you an assignment to complete between then and now.” Dr. Keller says. “I want you to ask one of the members of your pack for one thing that you want. You can pick what it is, and who you ask, but I want to hear about it when I see you later this week, understood?” 
You push back the nerves twisting in your stomach. “Yes, ma’am.” 
“Good.” She pushes herself up to stand. “You can stay here as long as you want. Just let me know when you’re ready to go back to the barracks. Take your time. You are my only patient.” 
She grabs the paperwork off the couch before moving to her desk. You watch her for a moment before letting your eyes wander. You wipe at your face, your cheeks feeling puffy from your tears. You’re glad she’s giving you time to relax. The last thing you needed was to run into a member of your pack like this. 
That’s not a conversation you want to have right now. 
You take deep breaths, letting the beta scent permeating the air calm you down. You sink down further into the chair, letting it surround you. It’s soft, the cushions pressing around you like a hug. You wonder how she managed to get it in the hard, “function-above-all” world of the military. You wonder how she got most things in her office, or maybe if she’d brought them with her. 
It was likely Kate’s doing, you think. The office space was made for an omega, set up to be as comforting as possible. Though, you don't doubt Dr. Keller would have argued her case for having these things fearlessly if she had to. 
You stay in her office for a while, listening to the clacking of her keyboard as the soothing beta scent washes over you. Your eyes are still burning a bit as you force yourself out of the chair, out of the soft comfort you could spend days wrapped in. 
“I’m ready to go now.” You say quietly. 
“Okay.” Dr. Keller says, finishing what she was typing before she stands, grabbing her keys. 
She locks the office behind you before you leave the medical center, pulling up your hood to protect you from the drizzling rain. You’re growing used to the perpetually grey skies and sudden rainstorms. 
Dr. Keller squeezes your arm gently as you stop at the door to the barracks. “Remember what I told you. I’ll see you in a few days, alright?” 
You nod. “Thank you.” 
She smiles softly. “You did good today. I am proud of you.” 
You slip into the door of the barracks as she makes her way back to the medical center, your shoes squeaking on the tile floors. You head back to your room, the silence in the barracks telling you they’re not back yet. 
You kick off your shoes, pulling your damp sweatshirt off as you sit on the edge of your bed. You stare at your ruined sleeve, the seam split to the edge of the cuff now. You got the sweatshirt from one of your fellow omegas at the institute, and you’ve worn it almost every day since. It’s turned a bit raggedy, and your picking at it hasn’t helped any. 
Ask for one thing that you want. 
It would be easy to ask for a new sweatshirt. You’re sure if you asked Gaz, he’d give you the one right off his back. Everything you can think to ask for, they’d have to buy. If you asked Soap, he’d likely commandeer the closest vehicle and drive straight to town and buy you one in every color, even if he didn’t have permission to. 
You could ask for something that’s not material. 
Warmth floods your face as you think about it. How would you even ask? You can’t just ask directly. You could, but you might die of embarrassment if anyone heard you. There’s nothing to really be embarrassed about, but you can’t help it. It’s a bold thing to ask for, and you’re not sure you’re feeling quite so bold today. 
You chew on your lip as the barrack door opens, their voices echoing down the hallway as they return from their morning training. They pass by your door, their own doors opening and closing. You get up, moving to stand in front of your own door, holding your breath. You could just step out, knock on his door and ask. He’s probably changing, though. You’d never get the words out if he thought it was one of the others and opened it half dressed. 
You have to do it, though, before you lose your nerve. If you don’t do it now, you’ll never do it and you’ll have to tell Dr. Keller that you failed. You’re allowed to want things. It’s your nature to want things. It’s human nature to want things. There’s nothing wrong with having needs and wants. 
You can want this. 
You repeat it over and over as you slowly open your door, letting it close behind you. You smell the air, finding the trail of his scent. It disappears down the hall and around the corner towards the rec room. Your legs feel shaky as you follow it, your stomach twisting anxiously. You can want this. It’s okay to want this. 
You turn the corner, finding him coming out of the rec room. He grins at you, eyes sparkling. 
You want this. 
“Hey, lass, was just lookin’ for ye. Are ye ready for lunch-” 
His words cut off as you grab his face, standing on your toes to press your lips against his. He makes a surprised sound against your lips, his body tensing. It’s quick, only a couple seconds before you’re releasing him, taking a big step back. Your eyes are wide with shock, almost as wide as his. His lips are parted in surprise still, his shoulders tensed. 
“Sorry.” You blurt out, your nerves only heightened. What if he hadn’t wanted it? “Sorry, I just...I wanted to do it and I wanted you to do it that day, but I’ve never had a real kiss before and I thought maybe Price would want to...but then he said he didn’t care-” 
Your words cut off as he grips your chin, lifting your face so you’re looking at him. The tension has melted from his shoulders, the surprise gone from his face. His eyes are soft as they stare down at you, his thumb brushing your lower lip. 
“I didnae know it was yer first kiss.” He says softly. “I wouldnae pushed it so far if I did.” 
“It wasn’t technically my first kiss, I kissed another omega at the institute but I don’t really count it cause I did it for her.” You shrug. “I’ve regretted pulling away since that day and Dr. Keller said I should start learning to want things and she gave me the assignment of asking for one thing that I want before I see her again at the end of the week and I could have just asked for something simple but-” 
Your words are cut off as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours again. It’s soft and sweet, his hand sliding from your chin to the back of your head, holding you against him. Your fingers grip his shirt, and you lift yourself onto your toes to press back against him as his lips move against yours. 
His forehead presses against yours as he pulls away, your breaths mingling as you continue to hold each other. “Gaz will be upset he missed out.” He says quietly, lips tugging up in a smile as he squeezes your waist. 
“He can kiss me later.” You say, pressing a quick kiss to his lips once more before pulling away. “After lunch.” 
Soap chuckles quietly, slipping his hand into yours. “After lunch.” 
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You hesitate outside the door, shifting nervously on your feet. You could turn around and go back to bed, pretend like you hadn’t spent an hour convincing yourself to walk down here, like you haven’t been thinking about this all afternoon. You had already completed your assignment for the week. You’d kissed Soap, done something you wanted. You’ve fulfilled that desire, and it didn’t kill you. You hadn’t dropped dead afterward. If the others noticed, they didn’t say anything. 
This isn’t a want. 
You knock softly on the door, half tempted to turn and run and hide under your covers until you inevitably have to get up tomorrow. 
“Come in.” 
Your hand hesitates on the door handle for just a moment before you’re turning it, stepping into the office. He doesn’t look surprised to see you, though you suppose if nothing else, he had smelled you standing outside. The thought makes your cheeks warm in embarrassment. How long has he known you were standing out there? 
“What can I do for you, sweetheart?” He asks, setting down his pen. 
You shuffle nervously, clasping your hands in front of you. “I-I was wondering...I..um...” You take a deep breath. “I was wondering if I could kneel for you.” 
You bite your lip as he stares at you, the words having come out fast, almost meshing into one long string of nonsense. His eyes darken just a bit, his scent thickening in the air. 
“You want to kneel for me, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice low and rough. 
You nod, shifting your weight again. “Yes, sir.” 
“Grab a pillow.” He nods to the couch. “I won’t have you hurting yourself.” 
You grab one of the pillows from the couch, wondering how often he’s slept in his office. How many nights he’s spent awake, pouring over files, his mind working too hard for him to find any rest. You set the pillow on the floor before kneeling down next to him, facing his desk. You shift until you’re comfortable, sitting back on your feet. You let out a long breath as your eyes slipped closed, your fingers twitching anxiously in your lap. 
Price’s hand is gentle as it comes to rest on the top of your head. You relax into his touch as he strokes your hair, working his way down towards your neck. You force your mind to relax, easing away the desire to tense your shoulders, to draw them up around your ears. It’s pure natural instinct, one that will fade the more you practice, the more you bond with him. The more you trust him. 
“Ready?” He asks, his voice sounding far away despite the fact you’re right next to him. 
“Yes, sir.” You murmur, pressing your head into his hand. 
His hand slips lower, curling around the back of your neck. You inhale sharply as he finally makes contact with the sensitive area. His hand is warm, the tension slowly easing from your body as he presses his thumb lightly into the side of your neck. The back of your brain begins to buzz, your mind slowly filling with static. You relax even further, your head bowing just slightly as you feel the weight of the last three months lifting off your shoulders. 
All the emotions, all the fear, all the unknowns suddenly feel far away. All the apprehension and the anxiety are soothed to nothing as he holds you, the hand on your neck a firm reminder that you’re not alone in this anymore. You have an alpha now, a strong alpha that you can trust in, that will carry it all for you. 
You don’t need to be stressed or afraid anymore. A warmth begins blossoming within you, spreading from your core out to your fingers and toes. You feel a bit dazed, but not in a bad way. You’re not afraid of the feeling, not with your alpha’s hand around the back of your neck keeping you safe. 
You’re not sure how much time passes, how long you kneel there. It could be five minutes, it could be two hours. Price continues to go over his paperwork, his other hand steady on the back of your neck. It’s not until he’s done that he carefully pushes his seat back, kneeling on the floor next to you. He releases your neck, catching your body as it slumps over, drawing you against his chest. 
“Easy, sweet girl.” He murmurs, pressing your face into his neck. 
You’re shaking a bit, brain still dazed and flying as you breathe in his scent. Earthy, trees, petrichor. The warm muskiness of a content alpha. You made him smell like that. You invoked that scent. 
“Feeling alright?” He murmurs into your hair, gently stroking your side as you begin to come back into your body. 
You hum in affirmation, wrapping your arms around his neck. You haven’t been this close to him yet, not since the scenting and that was more of a formal closeness, a required closeness. This is because you want it. 
“Don’t let me go.” You murmur into his neck, clinging to him tightly. 
His arms tighten around you for a moment before he slips them under you, lifting you into his arms easily. He pushes himself from the floor, moving to sit on the couch with you on his lap. You let yourself go lax in his hold again, feeling calmer and more relaxed than you have in months. You feel safe in his arms, not that he would have let anything happen to you before. 
You’ve always been safe, you think as you let your eyes drift closed again. 
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The water is hot as it runs down his back, contrasting the cool tile against his forehead. His eyes are closed, breaths slow and steady through his nose. He can’t get that damn scent of vanilla and sweet, sweet omega arousal out of his head. He drives his fist into the wall with a growl, cursing the blood rushing south. 
He can’t forget the way you felt under him, pinned so easily and helpless beneath him. He hates the way his cock twitches at the thought of the pout on your lips as he’d swung at you, narrowly missing you too many times. The way you tried to jump him. 
He lets out another frustrated growl, slamming his forehead into the tile. A hand presses against his bare back and he turns on his heel, hand wrapping around Johnny’s throat, slamming him back against the shower wall. 
Jesus Christ, he’s going to kill the mutt one of these days. 
“Easy, Lt.” Johnny rasps, not fazed at all by the alpha’s actions. His eyes flicker lower, to the hard cock standing at attention. “Bit worked up, eh?” 
He lets Johnny go with a growl, stepping back under the water, turning it all the way to the right until it’s nearly freezing. He almost groans in frustration as the water shuts off completely, his eyes cracking open as Johnny’s hand trails up his chest. 
“Easy, big guy. Let me help ye.” 
Simon moves until his back is pressed against the tiles, eyes not leaving Johnny’s sapphire ones as the beta slowly kneels in front of him. Johnny’s hands trace over his hips, outlining scars both old and new. Johnny’s fingers finally reach his cock, wrapping around the thick length. Simon sighs in quiet relief as Johnny slowly pumps his length, their gazes still locked. 
Simon stares down at Johnny through his blonde lashes as Johnny leans forward, dragging his tongue along his head. A low growl rumbles through his chest as the beta circles his tongue around his head, smearing precum on his chin. He’s painfully hard now, breaking his gaze as his head tilts back, eyes fluttering closed. 
His fingers sink into Johnny’s mohawk as the beta takes his cock in his mouth. He breathes through his nose, relaxing his throat as Simon’s cock sinks deeper and deeper, Johnny’s hands closing around his hips to hold himself steady. Simon grips his hair tightly as he begins to move, bobbing his head along his length, his tongue pressing against the bottom of his cock. 
Simon squeezes his eyes closed as an image comes to mind, a smaller hand fondling his balls. His hand wraps around the base of his cock as he imagines soft lips on his tip, Johnny’s tongue tracing the parts of him that you can’t fit yet as you take him in your mouth. The sweet whines that would be pulled from you as he choked you on his thick length, Johnny whispering sweet encouragements to you. 
He can picture the two of you, you and Johnny with your tongues entwined, his cum stringing between your lips. 
He growls, yanking Johnny off his cock and pinning him to the tile wall. Johnny’s lips are parted as he breathes heavily, eyes blown with lust as he stares up at his alpha. Simon’s hand tugs at his hair, tilting his head back to bear his throat. Johnny lets out a quiet moan as he sinks his teeth into the delicate skin, leaving a mark he’ll wear proudly for a few days. 
“Turn around and bend over.” He growls to the beta, his cock still hard and throbbing. 
“Sir, yes sir.” Johnny says, smirking wickedly as he slowly turns to face the wall. 
Fucking christ, Simon groans. They’re going to be the death of him. 
You’re going to be the death of him. 
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Taglist, part 1:
@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @ghostlythots @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @thychuvaluswife @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @bisky-business @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @cadotoast @linaangel @rancid-wasp @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @puppyel @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006
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yxami · 2 months
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A clingy, not very innocent idol who refuses to confess despite his actions already seeming like those of a boyfriend.
desc: yandere innocent idol x gn manager reader, lots of nsfw near the end, manipulation, possessiveness, and general asshole behaviors from a yandere. I really didn’t intend to right this much, oopsies.
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You’ve been managing an idol for a bit of time now, a very short and stressful time. All your hard work pays off when you can go home and relax without a worry about how Akol is going to act in the general public.
He’s pulled too many stunts, some even making you believe that his career was done for, but he proved toy wrong when all he had to do was write a sweet and short tweet of how sorry he is and the fans were back to loving him.
Not that they hated him in the first place anyways, they were always going to love him, always. Why else would he preform for losers who could commit to him no matter what he did?
“Manager! I think I lost my phone in here” He knocks, louder once he starts growing impatient that you’re not hastily opening the door to see him like how he thought you would. He wants to be admired, he wants you to see how he put himself together before coming over.
“I’m comin!” You inhale as much as your lungs can let you before letting out a tired sigh, opening the door to see your precious idol looking up at you with his doe eyes, shadowed by his long lashes. If you looked any harder you’d be able to see his pupils widen when you entered the frame.
“Geez you need to start answering quicker, what if I was in a hurry or getting chased by paparazzi?” He smoothly delivers feigned worries with a whiny tone, inviting himself inside like he always does.
The sneaky minx of an idol even managed to convince you to hold up the couch while he purposefully bent over and pressed himself against you without you being able to view the not so innocent faces he made at your grunts from the weight of the furniture and his teasing.
“I just can’t find it, oh well” He slumps against the couch before you even fully set it down. You open your phone and go to call him, and as you’re doing so he stands up, wanting to look at what you were doing. He hears you dialing for someone, who on gods green earth was more important for you to be calling while he’s right infront of you??
“Who ya calling? Someone I know? Have I met them?” His questions go unanswered as he seems to stiffen when the two of you can both hear vibrating emitting from his pocket.
“Oh! It’s in my pocket, silly me” He wobbly smiles, he was so focused on you that he had forgotten to hide it somewhere. “Well, I guess my search is over, do you wanna watch a mov—“
“I’m okay, I was planning to enjoy my time off.. alone, you have a couple of brand posts you need to do, so I won’t keep you waiting ” You start walking to the door, to which he does not follow.
“No, I can do them later, let’s just watch a movie!” He insists, patting the space next to him, trying to bite back his frown. Did you not want to hangout with him? Was he being annoying? Ugh, so what if he was being annoying, you should entertaining it!!
“Akol—“
“Please? I just wanted to hang out with you today… without work n’ stuff” He mumbles, demeanor completely different from what was going through his mind. His hands are clasped in his lap as he squirms, looking down like a kicked puppy.
“Alright..” You quietly sigh, making sure your front door was locked before coming back to the couch, somehow immediately having your pretty little idol in your lap. He’s becoming more shameless by the minute.
He whispers a few thank you’s while facing you, wrapping his arms behind your neck as he sneaks his face between your shoulder and neck. He’s inhaling your scent, growing more aroused by the minute but he won’t dare to do anything. “Not yet” He repeats in his mind, but he breaks and can’t help but grind his lower half against yours.
“Manager…?” He says a little too breathlessly, capturing your attention away from the movie and at him, you pat his back, rubbing it softly as if he was a sick critter. “Yeah?”
“Can you help me, please? It’s so hot and.. I-I can’t focus, you’re too distracting” He whispers, lips almost touching your left ear, as he lifts his head to look at you, his eyes are clouded with lust, pupils almost in hearts.
His grinding only quickens when he notices that you’re trying to focus on the movie, he’s jealous, rightfully so, why aren’t you focusing on him? He’s perfectly playing his usual sweet idol act, it should work on you!
“I can’t do that. I’m not someone who should be touching you like that” You shake your head, placing your hands on his hips, making him shiver as if he was cold despite his body feeling on fire from your fingers pressing into his skin. You’re stimulating him with it but your words just make him want to bash his head.
“I don’t care if you should or shouldn’t be..! I trust you” A throaty whine leaves from his throat, lips quivering as he hardly needs time to get his eyes to water at the perfect moment. “It’s okay see?” He moves your hand on his chest, lifting his shirt so you could touch him bare. He cups your hand, making it squeeze around his perky nipple.
He growing more and more pathetic, and he knows it, he could care less. He doesn’t even care about what his fans would say if they found out about his crush on you, fuck his fans, he only wants you! He’d leave all of them if it meant that he could have you.
“You’re very sweet Akol, but you know I can’t, I would do it to help you but this is just going to start a bad habit” You sighs, taking your hand away much to his dismay, he’s about to reach for your hand again before you move him off your lap. Fuck. no, you’re supposed to be saying yes, you have to.
He internally panicked for a few moments, eyes flickering with worry before smashing his lips against yours, making it soft and passionate once you don’t try to pull away, his kisses are needy and insistent, just like him. He sneaks his hands under your shirt, hands squeezing your chest, slowly rubbing your sensitive nipples between his thumb and pointer.
“I won’t ask you for anything more? Just please entertain me this one time?” His voice is rough and raw, nothing alike compared to the chipper and sweet idol you usually witnessed, this was real.
“I promise I won’t ask again” His lies coax you to help the poor idol you deemed to be in need, despite never needing saving from his lust for you, if anything you were the one who needed it after he milks you dry.
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Night
#meows#h. today was a bit stressful#my grandparents have finally decided they cant host holidays anymore bc theyre too old (now if only theyd use that mindset#for when my uncle asks them to babysit ie raise his kids)#but that means it gets put on us SO we had both sets of grandparents and my moms sister her daughter (my cousin)#and said cousin's bf. and like hes nice from what i see but i do NOT do well w new people especially those making immediate convo#and im sure i look like a jerk bc i had trouble making eye contact but it had nothing to do w him i just could not#plus it got reaaally awkward bc iiiim starting to think the grandparents dont like each other??#cant fully blame them my moms mom can be a bit much and my f*thers dad just says some random shit and i never know#what hes trying to get out. example being the night before we went over like we always do on xmas eve#and he questioned why i didnt go into art for a career like do animation and then said ''well i figured that they#[some confusing thing about math and lines and equations to idk animate ig???]#hes also super cheap whereas my gma is not at all#and a bunch of other stuff point is i sat at ''the kids table'' bc i figured there were just enough seats for my aunt and her husband#who decided to show (only to spew conservative bullshit outta nowhere) my mom and both sets of grandparents#but then my moms parents sit with me and my cousin and her bf??? like uhh. then my f*thers dad tried to make an escape#but his car was blocked in by the others lmaoo#and in her usual fashion my moms mom stayed A WHILE and so we had people over for nearly 4 hours which is well past my time#and during her extended stay i went to get a sip from my drink only to find it gone and i had a semi...??? idk what to call it#shutdown maybe? idk by that point i was DONE masking i wanted them OUT i wanted to pass out in the dark in my BED#idk this christmas has seemed overly stressful for no good reason#also ig my moms trying to hint for me to cook bc she got my fucking like 3 cookbooks (tho one of which was more sentimental#bc it was her writing down recipes for food she makes that i like like cereal cookies and meatballs)#(hers is onion soup mix w rice and ground beef rolled together into a ball w tomato sauce on it. usually served w mashed potatoes)#and then a ton of sleep shirts bc she misunderstood me. im not low on them even tho i got rid of a few old old ones#i just dont always bring enough here. but she takes some small thing and runs w it so no surprise there ig lmao#lil sad there was only a couple of things on my list i got and the rest was stuff she decided i needed (and didnt really#but ig its the thought that counts...? however much thought you wanna count it as ig lol)
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erwinsvow · 12 days
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rafe meeting shy reader’s parents for the first time
im thinking of right after... ♡
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truth be told, you had been really nervous about the whole thing. rafe was a great boyfriend to you, but sometimes a bit too blunt. you worried your parents might not like him as much as you do, that they might not be okay with your new relationship.
and though you now understood that there was no force in the world that could keep you away from him, you still wanted your parents to like him. which, of course, they did. he charmed them easily, bringing a bottle of their favorite red and flowers for your home. he struck up easy conversation with your dad about business and how lovely your house was with your mom.
all in all, perfect. while your parents loaded the dishwasher, you excused the two of you, insisting you needed to give rafe some of his stuff back from upstairs.
when you get him into your bedroom, you close the door, pushing him against it and leaning in for a hot kiss. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down and against you, tongues wet against each other, with your biting down on his lip until he pulls away.
"hey, hey. easy. they're right down there."
"i don't care," you mumble, lovestruck. you pull him in again, mind going completely blank except for a want to keep rafe's lips on yours. he manhandles you a little, pushing away from the door to at least get further into your bedroom.
he only gets you pushed against another wall, legs wrapping themselves around rafe's waist automatically, pressing yourself against him in a way that has him concerned.
"woah, woah, hold on, kid. we're going back down for dessert, can't have it obvious-"
"who cares about dessert?" you protest, and you look up at him with your pretty eyes filled with lust, chest heaving in the pretty sundress he'd been admiring all night. you're flushed and warm, overcome with a wanting for rafe that needed to be satisfied now, though you're even a little confused yourself where it stemmed from.
"really? you wanna fuck with your parents downstairs?"
"is that so wrong? we do it at tannyhill.."
"no one's around at tannyhill. c'mon, calm down. i don't need them hatin' me already. they just started likin' me."
you sigh a breath of protest, shoulders falling, but you don't complain. you still stalk back up, close to your boyfriend, putting your hands on his shoulders, looking up with your swollen lips and fluttery eyes.
"i knew they'd like you. y'know, i like you too.. a lot."
"yeah, kid. i can tell."
"i jus' wanna show you how much i like you, s'all." your words are becoming a little slurred, eyes a little dazed, lips a little pouty. you lean up for another kiss, gentle this time, moaning into his mouth while your nails grip rafe's arm through his pressed button up.
"c'mon baby. you're gonna get me in trouble," rafe says when he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. he can make out the sound of the faucet shutting, the fridge opening to retrieve the cake you'd made earlier.
"not if we're quick, right?" you rake your nails—freshly done today, pink and pretty just how he likes—against rafe's chest. "and i can be quiet... right?" you lean in again, pressing a hot kiss to rafe's jaw. "no one has to know-"
in hindsight, it was a mistake letting himself get swayed by you like this. he blamed your boldness this time, usually too shy to ask for what you want, just relying on rafe to give it to you. but he's still a man, one madly in love—at that—and he doesn't think he can resist you if he tries.
rafe ends up in a position he's not used to—lying on his back on your soft, sweet-smelling sheets, against a pillow and next to a stuffed teddy. you're on top, your dress hiked up and panties yanked to the side. the top is pushed down just enough to show him your tits, one of his ringed fingers teasing your nipple while the other guides your hips.
you're close already, he can tell, the way your entire body trembles, how you're biting your lip so hard it's about to bleed to keep yourself silent. besides for the sound of his skin slapping against yours and your whimpers, the room is silent. it's not gonna take much, but he decides to give it to you anyways.
his grip tightens, thrusting up and fucking into you hard, controlling the pace. your hands which had been lying flat on his chest to hold yourself up, were abandoned to cover your mouth instead, his eyes glued to where he was sliding inside of you.
"c'mon, kid. fuck. you wanted it, didn't ya? gotta be quick, then. shit." you clench around his dick, a strangled moan escaping your lips. he has half a mind to push your face into the mattress and fuck you from behind, but it's gonna have to wait.
you're getting close. he's getting close. another second of rafe fucking you like this, with you on top but still having no control, hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars and have your eyes rolling back. you're so close you can taste it, gushing around his dick and knowing he's gonna fill you up with the way he goes faster, until you hear a knock on the door.
"honey? rafe? dessert's ready."
"god! m'coming!"
ten minutes later, you're eating chocolate cake with rafe's cum spilling out of you, probably dripping down your thigh and making a mess. his hair is a mess, your lips swollen. you catch his eye while he's shoving cake in his mouth and neither of you can hold back your laughter.
your parents haven't noticed anything yet, but you can't make eye contact with them for a week after.
but it was definitely worth it.
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luveline · 3 days
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Hi Jade!! I love your writing so much! you wrote a few fics of postprison!reid with kinda shy!reader like the one where she faints and I loved that dynamic and that Reid, do you think you could write some more? pls pls pls <3333333
cw non-consensual drug use /reader is spiked 
Spencer is quite gorgeous. He has a great smile, soft and a little shy without teeth, exuberantly bright like a commercial with teeth. He’s smiling like he can read your mind now, fishing for your hand, and taking it into both of his. Your pinky in one hand and your index the other, he wriggles your hand back and forth and laughs softly. “You don’t handle inebriation well.” 
“What?” you ask, startled. You can’t believe he’s touching you like this, casual, like he’s your boyfriend. Your hot boyfriend.
“You think I’m hot?” 
You squint at him. “What?” you ask. 
He covers your hand gently with both of his. “Nevermind. Do you want something to eat now?” 
“No.” You’ll throw up. Chunks, probably, your breakfast. And it wasn’t even a healthy breakfast. It was waffles and whipped cream and then a donut on the way to the office, Spencer will be able to tell, he’s too smart, he’s too everything. 
“I’m not that smart,” he says kindly. 
That’s a straight up lie. 
He laughs heartily, at odds with his quiet talking, and you’re so confused because it’s like he’s reading your mind? Can he read your mind? There’s so much stuff about yourself you don’t want him to know, your chest hurts thinking about it, you don’t want to tell him anything—
“I think I’ll go find you a hot chocolate,” Spencer says, the sleeve of his shirt falling down unbuttoned to his wrist as he stands. He pushes it back up. He is surprisingly underdressed today and you’ve no idea why. “Does that sound nice?” 
“I don’t think you should leave.” 
“I don’t want you to tell me stuff you don’t want to tell me,” he says. 
“But if you leave I’ll be by myself.” You sound strange to your ears. Crackly, like a garden fire.
Spencer perches himself on the hospital bed next to you. You’re sitting cross-cross on the tight white and blue sheets, waiting for something? Something was supposed to happen, you know that. A doctor was going to take your blood. You look down at the crook of your elbow to find they already have, a cotton pad medical-taped to the skin. 
“I’m not going anywhere if you don’t want me to go,” he says, taking your arm into his hands with the same care he’d shown your fingers. He lifts the corner of the tape and begins to pull it away from the direction it had been stuck in, stretching it, and removing it from you without any pain. 
“Where did you learn that?” you ask. 
Spencer holds your arm in his hand now the cotton ball is done. “Learn what?” 
You’re not interested in asking him again. Weirdly, your throat feels dry, but you won’t tell him because he’ll offer hot chocolate again and you don’t want him to go. 
“Hey,” he says, “not going anywhere until it wears off. Not if you need me.” 
How does he always know what to say? 
“You know, why don’t you get into bed and lay down for a little bit? You must be tired, sitting up. It’s so late.” His voice is a sheet of silk. 
“I thought we were going home?” you ask. 
“We can’t, bub,” —that’s a new one— “not for now. But we will tonight, I promise.” 
“Why not now?” 
He smiles sadly. “‘Cos you’re coming down, Y/N.” 
You frown. “Oh.” 
“I know.” Spencer wraps and arm around your back. “But you’re not alone.” He ducks in until your faces are almost touching. “You know? It’ll go away soon.” 
You don’t know why you say it, but you say, “You’re so nice to me. Even when you’re scary.” 
“Am I scary?” he murmurs. 
You look at him long and hard, feeling the warm rub of his thumb as he smooths a short line into your back. Spencer is intimidating, maybe, because you hadn’t known him when he got out of prison, and he's pretty like a model, or a movie star. But he isn’t scary. That’s not the right word. 
“No,” you say. “I guess not.” You pause. “I feel weird.” 
He doesn’t laugh like you, just hugs you tighter. “It’ll get better.” 
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hyunnie04 · 2 months
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tender
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lee know x reader, hurt/comfort | m.list
wc: 1.4k | warnings: themes of depression and struggling with mental health
a/n: this fic is a little self indulgent as i haven't been feeling great lately. so i hope this brings comfort to anyone who needs it ♡
you don’t remember how long you’ve been sitting in the tub. you’re sure your hands have pruned and wrinkled due to the prolonged time you have been in here, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to care.
the sides of your head pulses as a migraine at the forefront of your temple starts to fully form. you had hoped a moment of reprieve in the bath would calm your nerves and ease your headache, but it had yet to do so.
the droplets fall slowly against your furrowed eyebrows and taut expression, dripping freely down on your chin and on the dewy expanse of your chest. both arms are splayed limply across the sides of the tub, staring blankly ahead at the white tiled walls above, unmoving. 
the temperature was warm, too warm for your usual liking but you didn’t seem to mind today, welcoming the dull pain it brought. the white tiles that you’ve been staring at for what seemed like forever stared back at you.
the silence was deafening.
a lot has been on your mind lately. the restless and constant feeling of not being good enough and comparing yourself to others caused you to no longer find enjoyment in the things you used to love doing.
words that usually meant nothing had stuck themselves inside your head as well, dissecting every meaning when they had none. sleep did not come easily to you these nights, tossing and turning, failing to succumb into the comforting arms of sleep.
isolation became your company in these moments, withdrawing yourself from everything. missing out on a lot of stuff, in turn, made you feel worse than you already did.
you knew you should probably tell someone about your problems but you just couldn't find it in yourself to do it. the last thing you wanted to be was a bother.
some days are admittedly better than others, where you’re able to get things done, to do your obligations and continue on with life like normal. but when you least expect it, it creeps up on you, pulling you back into that unhealthy head space.
you tried to force these thoughts and feelings down for a long time, pretending that everything was fine. today was apparently the day it all came rising up, unable to keep a lid on your bubbling emotions.
a sense of dread hung over your head, eyes aching from all the crying you did. wet strands of hair had clumped together, obscuring your view, perturbed by how sometimes your skin doesn't feel like yours.
“y/n?”
the bathroom starts to fog with mist, clouding the glass and mirrors, the water slowly scalding your skin. the call to sink down into the water and never come up are louder than ever.
“-y/n? are you in there?” a voice makes itself known. lifting yourself up a little bit, startled at the faintest sound of knocks.
you forget that minho would be home around this time. a hand flies towards your forehead to ease the pounding pain. shit, you haven't started making dinner. 
it takes a while before you answer, collecting yourself as to not sound as shaky. “yeah! just finishing up, i'll be out in a sec.”
“don’t get out, i'll join you.” he yells back, the sound of padding feet against the wooden floors reverb through out the apartment. your eyes flicker at his sudden decision, causing you to sigh and sink down into the water once more.
as much as you adored and love him and how most days would let him join you with no hesitation, you silently hoped that he wouldn't today. you couldn't bear to let him see you in this state, all disheveled and puffy eyed. but it was rare when he was even home, given his grueling schedule.
so you wait for him patiently to come over to your shared bathroom, hugging your legs tightly. you remember to turn the cold tap on and off before he enters, water droplets filling in the silence.
when he finally creaks open the door with nothing on but a bathrobe and a silly cat headband that kept his hair away from his forehead on, you can't help but smile even if it doesn't quite reach your eyes.
you inch farther into the corner, making space for him quietly as he gets in. if he had noticed the temperature of the water that had yet to cool down, he made no attempt to comment.
the two of you don't say anything for the time being, just in each other's corner, relaxing and leaning your arms on the cool edge of the tub.
“you’re quiet.” his voice echoes. minho’s voice cuts through the silence, a stark contrast to the quietness of the bathroom just moments ago.
“i’m sorry.”
feeling minho’s heavy unwavering gaze into the side of your head, you can’t help but feel awful. you don’t mean to be so curt with him, but any more words from your mouth frightens you, afraid that the underlying shakiness of your voice will give you away.
your eyes still keep averting his, afraid of what expression he might bore. will he look at you with pity? with a tired gaze of disappointment?
he does not. instead, minho grabs one of the lavender scented shampoo bottles placed neatly on the shelf and gestures for you to turn around. you follow his request, albeit apprehensively, turning around.
“there we go.” he says. even if you refuse to meet his eyes, you could tell he was smiling as he said it.
minho takes great care to shampoo your hair, his blunt nails gently raking over your scalp, unknowingly soothing your dreadful headache. minho is observant, very much so. it doesn’t surprise you at all anymore when he suddenly asks.
“what’s wrong, hmm?” he finally says amidst the stillness of the atmosphere, tone dripping of comfort as his hands continue to lightly massage through your soapy tresses. you lean into it like a desperate cat, melting at his simple touch. oh how you've yearned for his touch.
although you don’t answer, his intuitive nature already knows that something was amiss.
“you know i’m always here for you.” minho says, pressing a delicate kiss on your shoulder. his sweet words and murmurs of comfort act like a salve to your aching heart as tears start to gather at your lash line once again.
you always hated making him worry.
the overwhelming emotion brings you to tears, immense guilt ebbing at your seams. minho places his head on your shoulder as you cry, hands running up and down your sides in an attempt to soothe you.
he doesn't deserve this, to be left out, to not know the reason you're so distant lately. he trusted you and you trusted him. so you spill every little thing to him.
voice starting to rasp, your stuttering cries now unrestraint without fear of judgement and just allowing yourself to be vulnerable. salty tears start to meld together with the water in the tub, rippling as they fall. at last, you feel lighter. the weight that you carried for so long in your heart doesn't have to be carried alone.
after a while, the hiccupping in your throat and the tears start to subside, leaving you a sniffling mess. turning around to finally face him, you fought the urge to hide in your hands.
"feel a little better now?" minho looks at you with nothing but a loving smile, no underlying judgement, just adoration, and one that makes you dive into him. you feel so utterly loved, what did you do to deserve him?
your arms wrap around his neck, placing apologetic kisses on his lips. he reciprocates, hands going around your back to steady your form. your mouth tumbles out watery apologies as he caresses the skin of your nape, gentle as he can.
you release him, arms still hooked around his neck, looking deeply into his eyes as if he's the center of the universe, and to you, he is. "i love you." the edges of your vision cloud with the tell tale signs of drowsiness, finally finding it in yourself to relax in his hold.
and he lets you, guiding your head to rest on his broad chest, the steady beats of his heart thumping against your temple, grounding you, his feathery light touches lingering.
feelings like these come and go, but minho is a constant that you keep close to your heart.
“thank you for putting up with me.”
"of course, i love you too."
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livwritesstuff · 1 month
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you know that feeling where you’re having a god-awful day and all you really want is a hug but you’re at work so, like, that’s not gonna happen, and you basically just have to stew in all those shitty feelings and wait out the clock? yeah, me too, that’s kind of where this came from.
Eddie had a tough day.
It had started early that morning when the girls missed their school bus – not a huge deal, honestly, he was already gonna be leaving early to go get his car looked at.
But then he got shitty news from the mechanic, and then a meeting with his agent didn’t go the way he’d wanted at all, and then Hazel ended up being a total pain in the ass after he picked her up from kindergarten, and during her relentless haranguing, she knocked one of Eddie’s favorite mugs off the counter. It shattered, obviously, and she cried about it so he’d had to deal with both of those things at once, and it was just a day.
None of it was anything he couldn’t handle – the problem was the compounding nature of it and the way he basically just had to stew in it all until the next obstacle came along and made shit even worse.
All Eddie really wanted was Steve, and how Steve being around made dealing with this stuff so much easier, even if every other circumstance was the same.
He has to share Steve, though, and today he’s sharing him with Steve’s work until four o’clock.
It’s fine.
He can wait until four.
The older two girls got off their bus at half-past three, and, seriously, someone must have put something in the water this morning because they are in rare goddamn form today. If Hazel alone was bad, all three of them together were…well, thrice that. It’s like the universe said I see your bad day and I raise you three elementary schoolers hitting their peak annoyance thresholds simultaneously.
And it’s not like Eddie can even fucking fold, either.
It’s cold and kind of windy outside, which is Eddie’s least favorite weather and he’d thought maybe the girls would want to go right inside, but no. Of course they want to dig out the chalk that got stashed away in the garage last fall, and while Eddie is stuck shivering outside breaking up dumb arguments about who’s allowed to use which colors (he figured the answer was an obvious everyone, but apparently that’s incorrect), Steve leaves a message saying he tacked on an emergency session onto the end of his day and now he’s not out until five.
Eddie doesn’t hear it until he’s back inside, obviously, but when he does it’s like someone ran a whole fucking dagger through his chest.
He’s halfway through making dinner when Steve gets home (he’d actually be done making dinner if the pot of water hadn’t boiled off while he’d dealt with yet another stupid argument), and he drops everything to meet him at the door.
It’s like Steve can tell in an instant the kind of day Eddie had.
“What happened?” he asks as he toes off his shoes.
Eddie shakes his head, “Everything…nothing…I don’t even know. Just…one of those days.”
Steve nods his understanding, and as soon as he’s got his coat hung up he’s pulling Eddie into a hug.
It ends up being kind of a bone-crushing one — that’s on Eddie, though. He’d just fucking needed it. He knows he’d needed it when Steve’s arms tighten around his shoulders and he feels that much better.
“You okay?” Steve asks without letting him go, the breath of his words hitting warm against Eddie’s neck.
“Just tired,” he answers.
Steve pulls away.
“You can take a break, Ed,” he says, and there’s something in his eyes – not concern, exactly, but more like awareness, “I’ll be up in a bit.”
Eddie just nods and heads for the stairs. As he goes, he faintly hears Steve asking, “What the hell did you guys do to Dad today?”, followed by the girls’ defensive protests.
In their room, Eddie makes it through one full rerun of Star Trek and then the first few minutes of a second before Steve joins him.
He notices that it’s quiet downstairs for the first time that evening, and he tries not to take it too personally. He’s always been comfortable in the knowledge that Steve might be better at the whole parenting thing than him (psych degrees and all that), but, shit, if he’s that much better…
“What’d you do, strangle them?” Eddie asks as Steve swaps his jeans out for a pair of faded plaid pajama pants.
“No, I told them that if I hear a single peep in the next hour I’m beheading all their stuffed animals.”
Eddie blinks.
Okay, maybe better isn’t exactly the right word.
“So they’re on verbal lockdown, basically,” Steve finishes.
“Jesus Christ, Steve,” Eddie shakes his head, “You’re kind of crazy.”
“Yeah, well, you were always gonna rub off on me one of these days — don’t.”
And Eddie couldn’t help the way he threw his head back and laughed.
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jyoongim · 1 month
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Hola, I was wondering for an Alastor x reader (which isn’t particularly romantic if you don’t want it to be) where the reader needed a job and started working at the hotel?
But she’s pregnant (and hell born) so she’s struggling a bit and he helps her out with stuff when she’s tired :)
Alastor x pregnant!hellborn!reader
Something cute and fluffy to read
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When you found yourself pregnant you were in shock.You didn’t know what to do or where to go. 
You had saw an ad for a hotel in need of a another maid and decided you would give it a go.
The hotel was ran by the Princess of Hell, who happily accepted you. She had told you the hotel was for sinners seeking redemption. You thought it was odd, but a job was a job.
You were hesitate to tell her of your condition, thinking she would turn you down but she didn’t. She had told you the farther along you got that it was okay to ask for help.
So now you were a maid at the Hazbin Hotel.
All the residents were…surprisingly nice.
You sheepishly introduced yourself and hoped to get along with everyone. The hotel wasn’t in the worst state, but it could use a good polishing.
Niffty was often with you to assist when you couldn’t clean certain places.
The sunlight had alerted you that you needed to wake up and start your day. You sighed as you rolled out of bed and put on your uniform. You pouted as your belly poked through the material, you were about six months now and it was showing.
You made your way downstairs to head to the kitchen to begin cleaning, knowing you might have missed breakfast.
Charlie had been kind enough to leave you a list of things that needed sprucing up.
You were thankful that the kitchen wasn’t in too much of a mess.
Grabbing empty dishes and turning on the water, you began to clean.
You hummed a little song as you busted the suds. You were so focused on your task that you didn’t notice when Alastor waltzed into the kitchen.
Alastor’s ears perked when he saw you. You rarely saw the demon as you were usually busy, but he was pleasant company to keep.
”Good morning my dear! What a fine hellish day it is!” He chirped, causing you to spin around. You smiled “good morning Alastor” as you continued rinsing and piling dishes on the counter.
The two of you chatted as he made a cup of coffee and took a seat at the table. You had finished washing everything and now to put things up.
You frowned when you got to the cups. You couldn’t reach the cabinets and putting too much strain on your back wasn’t good for the baby.
”How’s the little on fairing you my dear? It seems you’ve grown since the last time I saw you” the red demon inquired as he watched you try to figure out what to do with the cups.
You laughed ”heavy. It seems I am in need to let out a few inches in my uniform.” You rubbed your belly.
You spotted the tiny stool that Niffty used and smiled.
Shuffling a bit, you angled it so you could reach.
You were almost done placing everything when you misreached for a cup and because your center of gravity was off, you found yourself tilting off
”Aaah!” You squealed clenching your eyes ready for impact, when you fell into a firm chest.
”careful my dear” 
you opened your eyes and see that Alastor was supporting you. You smiled sheepishly and thanked him, trying to wiggle out of his hold.
But the demon hummed as he carried you to the lobby and sat you down on a couch. “Al! I’m fine besides I have to other things to clean today” you pouted.
His brows frowned “nonsense! You can’t possibly clean in this state” 
You huffed “Iam perfectly fine. Just didn’t realize how off balance I am now”
You stood, thanked him and went about you day.
But maybe he was right.
Your list was almost finished, but you had one last thing to do.
It was almost the late evening and you were tired from buzzing around the hotel. You were tired, sweaty, your feet felt swollen, and your back ached.
You growled in annoyance when you felt your baby kick as you scrubbed a mysterious spot on the rug.
”I’m almost finished and i promise you’ll get some grub” you patted your belly hoping to soothe the angry soul, but it seemed your baby was irritated.
A sharp kick made you hiss as you wrung out your sponge.
You checked the time, you didn’t know it had gotten so late.
Your stomach growled in protest as you hadn’t really ate anything all day.
You sighed and decided a quick break wouldnt hurt.
Huffing you took a seat on the couch and sighed in relief to be off your feet.
You didn’t notice that you had dozed off when a hand gently shook you.
Alastor.
”Oh Al did you need something? I didn’t even realized I had fell asleep” you rubbed your eyes.
The red demon snapped his fingers and a plate of food appeared. You blinked in confusion “You seemed tired so no one wanted to bother you, but Charlie was worried you hadn’t eaten today. You need to take better care of yourself dear. Its not just you you need to think about” He nudged a piece of fruit towards you.
You got teary-eyed. You had been feeling like more of a burden, but everyone did care about you, even the evil Overlord.
You graciously accepted the food and damn near went feral when you realized how hungry you were.
You patted your belly happily stuffed, your baby pressing against you, guess the little soul was happy as well.
”May I?” Alastor asked, eyes focused on your belly. You smiled. You didn’t take Alastor for the touchy type, but who could resist a pregnant woman?
You took his hand and pressed it against where your baby was resting. Your body buzzed as his static surrounded you and your baby kicked at his hand.
You let out a giggle “I think the baby likes you Al”
He smiled “oh I’m sure it’ll turn out to be as lovely as its mother”
You made a motion to get up and Alastor helped hoisting you up
”why don’t you take a rest hmm? Wouldn’t want you to be a sack of bone now would we?”
He escorted you to your room and you smiled at him as you opened your door.
”Thanks Alastor I really appreciate everything” you quickly pressed your lips to the demon’s cheek and giggled as static popped and wished him a goodnight.
Maybe raising a baby in a hotel wasn’t all that bad.
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theemporium · 1 month
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Ahhh can I order a violet fluff with jack and #7?? 💜
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
7. “I can hardly wait to put a ring on that finger.”
.
“I’m in love with you.”
You snorted, but smiled anyway. “I’m in love with you, too.”
“No, like, I’m in love with you.”
You blinked, pausing your movements as you turned to look at your boyfriend. Neither of you had said anything in the last thirty or so minutes, both lost in your own tasks. Music had been playing from the speaker Jack set up in the middle of the room, accompanying you two in the semi-empty apartment. 
It wasn’t the first apartment you two shared together. Your lease had ended and the decision to move in together had always been there, but neither of your apartments felt right. But with Jack’s place locked in for a few more months, it had been an easy decision for you to move in with him until you found a place together. 
But life got in the way, as it did. The move happened at the end of the summer and then the season started, and you got a promotion, and none of the places you viewed felt right. It felt like the universe was working against you two until you found this apartment in downtown Jersey City. 
It was cute and perfect, and needed a little work done before it was fully yours to enjoy together. So, when the boys finished up for the season and the two of you had more free time on your hands, you thought working on the apartment yourselves as much as you could would help make your first apartment a little more special. 
“Jack, babe,” your voice was a little softer than usual as you slowly placed the paint roller down on the tray. “You feeling good?” 
He frowned, like you were the one acting odd here. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” 
“Because we’ve been dating for almost four years and I’m pretty sure we did the ‘I love you’s ages ago,” you said to him as you stepped over the stray tools scattered across the floor until you reached him. You raised your hand, pressing the back of your palm against his forehead. “Did you hit your head? Is this a memory loss thing?” 
“I’m fine,” Jack huffed, but leaned into your touch nonetheless. His hands dropped to your waist, pulling you that bit closer before you could try to step away. “I’m just saying, it’s kinda hit me.”
“Four years to realise you’re in love with me?” You asked, your eyes narrowing slightly.
“Yes,” he answered instantly before frowning. “No, like…I know I love you. I know I’m in love with you. But it's just hit me that I am in love with you.”
You blinked. “You lost me, babe.”
“Like, look at us. Look at this,” he emphasised as he waved at the room around you both. “This is our real lives. I get to live with you. I get to kiss you. This is all real life. This is our reality! Isn’t that just crazy?” 
Your face softened a little. “We’re lucky.” 
“I’m lucky,” he corrected as he wound his arms around your waist to close the little remaining distance between you. “Most guys don’t even know what love is and I get you. I get us. I get Saturdays spent painting our apartment that we bought together. That’s fucking insane.”
“You’re feeling awfully sappy today,” you noted, though your chest tightened at his words as you placed your hands on either side of his face. “I’m glad it’s all with you.”
“I don’t want it with anyone else but you,” Jack confessed, his voice dropping to a quiet whisper even if it was only the two of you in the apartment. “All of it. Like, even the future stuff.” 
You bit back your smile. “The future stuff?” 
“Yeah, the proper serious adult shit,” Jack nodded with a completely straight face. “Like marriage and kids. And adopting a dog.” 
“Adopting a dog is more serious than marriage?” You laughed, trying to pretend like your whole face wasn’t heating up at the idea that he wanted to marry you, that Jack imagined that future with you too. 
“I mean, we can change the rules. I’m down for a dog after we get engaged,” he bargained, a boyish grin taking over his face as the two of you softly swayed on the spot.
“Depends on the proposal,” you joked.
“Hm,” Jack hummed before he turned his face to press a kiss to your left hand. “I can hardly wait to put a ring on that finger.”
Your heart skipped a beat. “For the dog?”
“For you,” Jack corrected. “For us to be forever, baby.” 
“I like the sound of that.” 
“Good,” Jack grinned. “Cause it’s gonna happen and it’s gonna be the best goddamn proposal you have ever seen. And then we are gonna get our dog to make the day perfect.”
You snorted. “Deal.”
.
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dollfacefantasy · 3 months
Note
okayokay so i was hoping you could write something for leon x chubby!reader? i swear there is not enough of that genre out there- i was thinking the reader could be feeling insecure about their weight and leon comes home to them upset on the couch :(( after some comforting and fluffy stuff he CARRIES reader to the bedroom. (as a chubby girl i fold for anyone who can carry me lol) any leon would work for this hes so precious i just wanna keep him safe and sound in my pocket ☹️🫶 anyways i tried to keep this broad enough for you to use your imagination,, i love you writing!! <3
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pairing: leon kennedy x fem!chubby!reader
summary: you're feeling down about yourself and leon just can't have that
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), face sitting, features reader's weight insecurities and people being critical of her weight
word count: 3.6k
a/n: thanks for the request! i hope it was what you were looking for :) reblogs and comments are appreciated <3
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You didn’t expect today to be a good day, but now, in your position curled up and wallowing on the couch, you wish your intuition had been wrong. You lie on the plush cushions, face pressed against a pillow, limbs retracted and held close to your body. You weren’t crying, but it felt like every couple minutes your eyes began to sting with the threat of tears falling. You tried telling yourself to get a grip, to grow up and just move on. This shouldn’t still hurt you so much.
But, like always, beating yourself up didn’t do anything to improve your emotional state. You continue half-paying attention to the movie you put on. It was your comfort movie, one that you put on whenever you were down. Right now though, it wasn’t helping. Your partially unfocused eyes fixate on the screen and watch the lead actress move about. She looks good constantly, her outfits flatter her figure and flaunt her features. All you’re left thinking is why can’t I look like that?
The story playing out in front of you has a bitter taste this time and only serves to remind you of all the words you heard today. Whenever you were around your family for extended periods of time, the conversation moved in this direction. One moment you’d be laughing over a funny story or reminiscing about the past, and then the next, you were being recommended diets or invited to come to the gym in what was your relatives' version of subtlety. And no matter how many times it happened, it still hurt like it was the first.
Sometimes, Leon could spare you from it. When he came around, all the attention would be on him, a newcomer who they didn’t know so much about. But on days like today, when you had to endure their company on your own, it was bound to happen.
Leon didn’t even know he was protecting you with his mere presence. You’d never told him about the passive aggressive remarks or the whispers across the room. He had enough problems of his own to deal with. You didn’t want to pile on by weeping to him, sounding like some shitty after school special. So instead, you resigned yourself to this, sinking into your self-pity until you were distracted enough to forget about it until next time.
Not much more of your movie plays before you hear the familiar sound of Leon’s keys outside the door. He comes in, offering you a small smile as he takes his jacket off and kicks his boots aside. You straighten up a little bit but not too much. Normally, you’d try to conceal all of this from him, but you were just too worn down today.
He’d been out dealing with some last minute things for work before he got a little time off for a couple weeks. He walks behind the couch to the kitchen, taking a moment to ruffle your hair as he goes by.
“How’s your day going? You had to go to that thing with your family right? Everything went well?” he asks from the kitchen.
“Yeah. It was fine,” you respond simply, “How’s yours? Get everything done?”
“Mhm,” he hums. You couldn’t see him, but he was watching you. He could tell something was up. He takes a few swigs of his drink before heading to the couch and sitting down with you. Glancing over at you a few times, he observes the way you’re watching the movie. The slight frown on your lips, your uninterested eyes.
“Hey, c’mere,” he says gently, “I missed you today.”
With a gentle tug of your wrist, he guides you across the couch. You slide over on the seats so you’re leaned against his side looking up at him. Like always, you put your head on his chest, his fingers find their way to your head and stroke it lovingly. His other hand makes his way to your side, tenderly squeezing your waist, and in-turn, gripping the plump flesh there. You loved the touch, but right now, it further amplifies your self-consciousness. You’re painfully aware of the shape of your body at this moment.
“You feeling ok?” he asks softly.
You simply nod in response, but it’s like he can see the gears turning in your head, cranking out one bad thought after the next.
“C’mon, tell me what’s wrong, pretty girl,” he coos, dragging his thumb over your cheek.
He called you that a fair amount, but in your current state, it just grated on your already frayed nerve endings. You swallow around the lump forming in your throat. “Nothing’s wrong,” you reply.
Your answer doesn’t satisfy him though. He’s not convinced. Any other day you’d talk his ear off about how you couldn’t believe someone did this or how there was no way another said that. You’d be all over him too. It seemed like you could never get enough of kissing his face or nuzzling his neck. But today you were quiet. Quiet and stiff.
“I know it’s something, baby. You can tell me. There’s nothing in this world I’d judge you for,” he murmurs before kissing your forehead.
You really wanna tell him. It shouldn’t be hard. The rational part of your brain knew all he’d do was make you feel better. Give you some smooches, whisper compliments against your skin as his hands rub you all over. The other part of you though, the irrational, scared girl hidden inside, kept you anxious. She kept you believing that this was something you had to bear alone. Even the fact that you were insecure in the first place was embarrassing.
In a move that made you feel overwhelmingly pathetic, you just shake your head. You push your face against his chest and remain silent. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat helps a little to calm you, but you still can’t force the words out.
He only grows more concerned as you shy away. He thought you just didn’t feel good, maybe a little gloomy, maybe had a headache. But this was clearly something deeper. His arms tighten around you, rubbing your back.
“Honey, what’s wrong?” he asks, “Talk to me. Breaks my heart seeing you sad.”
You can’t even stop the hot tears from sliding down your cheeks at this point. Sucking in a harsh breath, you cling to him. He sees you’re crying even though you’re quiet. He whispers a few more reassurances, trying to coax you into sharing what’s the matter.
“It’s just… do you… are you… are you attracted to me?” you choke out. Even the way you phrase it makes you wanna curl up and die.
He’s stunned. Honestly, that’s the last question he expected to hear between your soft gasps.
“What? Of course I am,” he says without a second thought.
“Are you sure? You don’t have to lie to me. I can take it,” you sob, keeping your face shielded against the muscles beneath his shirt.
“Yes I’m sure. Hey, hey,” he says. His tone drips with worry as he guides your face to look up at him, “Where’s this coming from, baby? Did I say something that made you think that?”
“N-no,” you cry, tears wetting his shirt by this point, “I- it’s just… I don’t…”
“Take a deep breath. It’s ok,” he whispers, “I just wanna know why you would be worried about that, babe?”
You follow his advice and get yourself calm enough that you can speak, but again, you can’t actually get the syllables out without losing it.
“Cause just look at me,” you weep and gesture at your figure.
“I am looking at you,” he says, still not understanding the issue.
“You’re telling me this is what you want?” you cry. You say it almost like an accusation. Like the word liar is on the tip of your tongue.
“Yes? I can’t help if you don’t tell me what the problem is, and I’m really not seeing a problem,” he says. He’s such a sweetheart. Doesn’t get defensive with you, doesn’t tell you to cool it. He’s understanding as ever, and it just makes you feel worse about your blow up.
“You really like me even though I’m chubby?” you finally blurt out.
His eyes soften when the words reach his ears. 
“Oh, baby…” he coos and pulls you onto his lap. It makes you uncomfortable at first, being on top of him, but he doesn’t even react to your weight on his thighs. “I love your body, every single part of it. You never need to worry about that.”
After that, everything comes spilling out. Every derogatory comment, every side eye, every single condescending smile. You ramble on about all of it through your tears. He nods along and shakes his head in disapproval when you tell him about your cousin’s birthday party when someone asked if you really needed a slice of cake. Or Christmas when your aunt cornered you to sell you on these diet shots her doctor prescribed her and how she could get you some easily.
“I never want you worrying about that kind of shit,” he tells you once it seems like your rant has come to a conclusion.
You sniffle and nod, burrowing into him further.
“I mean it. Cause for one, you're more than that. You’re sweet, so fucking sweet. You’re smart, funny. You’re you, and that’s what I love. I love talking to you, can’t get enough of your voice,” he murmurs as he kisses your cheeks and temple, “I notice all that before I’d ever notice whatever bullshit they tell you to feel bad about.”
“I know,” you whimper. Before you can say anything else, he keeps going.
“And you asked me if I’m attracted to you? That’s an easy answer, babe,” he says. He lifts you a little, shifting you on his lap so you’re straddling him. His hands squeeze your hips and rub up and down your sides. “You don’t understand how attracted to you I am. I cum harder jerking off while I think of you than I ever did fucking anyone else.”
You gaze down at him. Heat rushes through you at that admission. Your crying has come to a halt now as you hang onto each word of his.
“I mean, really honey? What wouldn’t I like?” he purrs, “You seriously believe I wouldn’t love how soft you are? All the curves I feel press up against me when you give me a hug or you wanna cuddle?”
His hands run along your skin with more teasing now.
“Your tummy? Fucking love it. Love how you get all squirmy when I rub and kiss it how you like,” he breathes as he tugs you forward so your front is against his. He kisses your lips softly. “Love feeling those round cheeks covered in tears and drool when you start losing it for me. And your thighs? I can’t get enough of ‘em clamped around my head when I’m eating your pussy. Fucking things squeeze me till I think I’m dreaming.”
Well, didn’t you feel stupid now. As Leon continues preaching about your body like he’s referencing a divine being, his hands roam your body, sending shivers up your spine. His fingers knead the flesh of your ass before coasting around to your tits and taking handfuls of them.
“I can only say so much, dolly. Think you should just let me show you how much I love it,” he breathes against the shell of your ear.
“Ok,” you agree. So simple it draws a small chuckle from his throat.
Without the slightest hesitation, he stands up, taking you with him. He hoists you up and doesn’t even let the smallest grunt slip from between his lips. You let out a tiny squeak which turns his chuckle to a full laugh.
“Leon…” you start with uncertainty.
“Nope. None of that,” he shushes you.
He boosts you up, getting you comfortable in his arms. Your legs lock around his waist just as he starts to move. Padding away from the couch, he takes you to the bedroom. He’s not straining himself at all. He glides through the doorway with you cradled against his abdomen like this was the most natural thing in the world. In all honesty, you weren’t too much for him in the slightest. All the training he did for his government job had prepared him to carry more weight than you.
He sets you down on the bed, crawling on top of you. His lips meet yours as he leans down and connects the two of you in a series of wet kisses. His hands glide beneath the fabric of your shirt, feeling your skin and the warmth of your body. After making out for a while more, he pulls back. He kneels above you, breathing heavily as he peels off his shirt. His toned abs and chest come into view. You’re still taking in the sight of him as he starts undoing his pants. To match him, you slowly begin to remove your own attire.
Soon enough, the both of you are nude. You expect him to get back on top of you and drill you into the bed until you’re seeing stars. But instead, he flops down next to you on the mattress, looking at you with a lopsided smile.
“You want me on top?” you ask as you begin to move yourself into position.
“I do. But not how you’re thinking.”
You pause, trying to figure out what he meant. It clicks in your mind suddenly as you're looking at his smug expression. He wanted you to sit on his face. He’d asked you to once or twice before, but you usually got out of it by playing up your neediness and acting like you needed his cock that very moment or you would explode.
There was no excuse that would spare you from this now though. You look him in the eyes and shake your head. His only response is to playfully nod at you and give your hips a little tug, urging you up his chest.
“Leon…” you whisper nervously. You wanted to, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.
“Don’t give me that,” he teases. His tone transitions to a more genuine one as he says “Let me do this for you.”
You hesitate once more, but another light pull of your hips has you tentatively scooting forward on top of him. You brush by his chest and neck until you’re hovering above his head. He lets out a sigh just from feeling the heat of your thighs on either side of him. His elbows bend around your thighs, keeping you in position. He looks up at you and finds your nervous eyes to give you a comforting look.
“I’m gonna crush you,” you say as if to warn him.
“You better,” he responds.
And that’s all the talking he needs to do before pulling your hips down and mashing your cunt against his mouth. You gasp as you feel his tongue licking you up and down already. He groans when he tastes your slick. Diving in further, his mouth opens and closes as he pleasures you. He sucks on your clit and massages your entrance.
Your arm shoots out to hold onto the headboard for balance. Your hips involuntarily rock back and forth, smearing your arousal over his chin and lips. He keeps you in place for the most part, but he doesn’t restrain your movements. If anything, he devours you with increased fervor.
“That’s right, baby. Ride it,” he mumbles against your folds.
He tightens his grip a bit as he licks broad stripes over your pussy. His nose nudges your swollen bundle of nerves, ripping sharp whimpers from you. You roll your hips into the sensation. He nearly whines while feeling the fluid motion. He keeps lapping at you like it was the task he was born to perform.
Then you feel a thrum on your hip, his fingers tapping. You look down, at first worried he needed you to get off. But looking down, you find his hooded eyes gazing back at you and his index finger gesturing behind you.
You turn to look and see his cock, rock hard, flushed red, leaking a few drops of pre cum onto his abdomen.
“You see how attracted to you I am?” he asks.
You moan loud as he returns to eating you out like it’s his final action. Seeing him so worked up from merely pleasuring you drives you wild and has you gushing all over his chin. You whimper and grind down onto his mouth some more. Your head falls back, your chest heaving and bouncing as you accept the euphoric feeling below. You reach down and tug at his hair. He practically growls and continues to work you to the edge. He pays some special attention to your clit and fucks his tongue into you to finally get you there.
“Be a good girl and cum all over my face,” he commands between licks.
You release with a yelp. Your hips buck as your body spasms. Thighs tremble violently before tensing and pressing against his ears. He smirks against the velvety junction and keeps going through the high.
Once you start to come down, he releases you from his grip and gives you a firm smack on the ass. You slump over and crumple up next to him on the bed. His face is shimmering with your release. His fingers swipe across his chin, collecting your slick that had coated the skin there. He sticks the digits in his mouth and hums in satisfaction as he licks them clean.
“Could eat that pussy for hours, it tastes so fucking sweet,” he says as he starts moving towards you again.
Now, it’s actually time for him to crawl on top of you. He rocks his hips against you as he goes in for more kisses. His cock drags against the smooth skin of your thigh, the sticky tip sliding back and forth. His wet fingers hold your jaw and keep your lips puffed out for him to kiss.
While he kisses you more, he spreads your thighs and slots himself between your folds. He moves himself up and down through the wetness that had gathered.
“Pretty, pretty girl,” he murmurs against your lips, “My gorgeous love doll.”
Teasing himself and you by gliding his tip over you a few more times, he then moves it down against your hole and enters you fully. He moans, his breath hitching as he sinks into your warm, wet embrace.
“Good girl. Squeeze around me just like that. So fucking tight,” he grunts.
He takes a moment to just feel you. Feel your walls pulsing around him. Feel your heated, squishy form against his firm one. But then he starts to move. He slowly works his shaft back. A long drawn out “fuck” leaves his mouth before he whispers a crisp “good god” while pressing back in.
He begins to pump into you with an even pace. He strokes nice and deep, keeping his movements consistent for you. You flutter around him and squirm slightly as he prods at your most sensitive spots. He leans back to look down at the spot where the two of you connect.
He watches his cock slide in and out of you, disappearing into your cunt time and time again. He’s obsessed with how your slick coats his shaft, dripping down to the base. His thumb comes to swipe over your clit quickly and give you some extra sparks of euphoria. You whine and arch your back at the touch.
“I know you have the perfect pussy. Made all for me,” he breathes, grinning as you shiver from the pleasure he inflicts upon you, “So responsive and sensitive just for me.”
You whimper and nod. Your hands claw at his back, digging into the muscles across his shoulders. He keeps slamming into you. His eyes roll back as his release builds. He mutters more praises and collapses on top of you again. He grinds and rolls himself into you rhythmically while you start to cling to him. It becomes harder to keep still as pressure mounts inside you, begging to burst.
“Wanna see my beautiful girl cum for me,” he mumbles while pressing sloppy kisses to your neck.
You pant and nod again. It was impending. All you needed was a few more thrusts. He swivels his hips, angling himself and swiping across more spots that drive you wild. It’s just a few moments later when your body seizes again and you let go with a loud cry. He can’t hold it either as he starts to shoot ropes of cum in you. You’re both shuddering, faces tense with absolute pleasure. He’s softly whimpering in your ear while your nails make deeper crescents on his shoulder blades.
He continues bucking into you, fucking his cum deeper. It’s almost like he can’t stop. It just feels too good. He can’t pull himself away even though the high is over and he’s already started to tumble down. You’re so blissed out that you don’t even complain of overstimulation, just let him go the few extra moments till he’s satisfied.
Once he is sated, he doesn’t pull out. He just stops moving his hips. His arms tighten around you, and he nestles his face in the crook of your neck where he can take in your scent with every breath.
“See what you do to me, baby?” he pants, “Wouldn’t change a thing about you. My girl, think you’ve ruined me for anyone else.”
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jhugas · 11 months
Text
‘BE A GOOD GIRL’- Jeon Jungkook
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✿✼:*゚:༅。.。༅:*・゚゚・⭑
Genre: smut
Pairing: gamer! Bf! Jungkook X afab! Reader
Summary: You decide to try cock warming while he plays a game, but it doesn’t go as planned…
Word count: ~1k
Warnings/tags: cock warming, teasing, praising, restriction (f cums when he wants to), penetration, lil aftercare.
✿✼:*゚:༅。.。༅:*・゚゚・⭑
Jungkook, your boyfriend, is a famous streamer. That means, he plays a lot of video games, and very often. Usually, it wasn’t a problem. But sometimes, he was too much into the games and wouldn’t give you any attention.
In the end, you’d just sulk and he’d always come talk to you again. But today, you wanted to do something different…
You always wanted to try cock warming. So today, you’re planning on cock warming him while he plays on his ps5.
You watch him as he’s concentrated on his gameplay and talking to his friends.
Then, you gather your confidence and decide to finally make your move and get closer to him. But with his gamer headset, he cannot hear you. Though it didn’t take long for him to notice you standing behind his expensive gaming chair, thanks to his screen’s reflection.
Standing there, you slide your hands down his torso and give him a kiss on his neck. And when he felt your soft lips against his sweet neck, he smiled and rose his eyebrows to ask you what you’re doing, before taking off his headset.
‘you know what I wanna try?’
You ask him.
‘What?’
He says amused, looking at you and the screen back and forth.
‘I wanna try cock warming.’
You say confidently. You were a bit scared of his reaction, but you knew he was usually open to try new stuff so you knew it’d be fine. After hearing your confession, his eyes widen in shock as he mutes his mic immediately.
‘Baby everyone could hear you!’
He sighs.
‘When? When do you want to do that?’
He finally asks, curious since he’s never done that.
‘Now. Just keep playing the game I’ll sit on it.’
You answer. He slowly nods before fully consenting to it and takes his pants and boxers off in one go. Quickly, he comes back to the game as he was afk for too long, and since his teammates were yelling at him, he had no other choice but to unmute his mic and insult them back.
While he insulted his friends, you had the time to take off your pants and panties. Then, you look at his tall, thick and veiny cock standing on its own. He was already hard and it couldn’t look better.
‘You stupid!! Behind yo-‘
He yelled before feeling your warm walls surrounding around his cock. He keeps cursing under his breath and gets one of his hands off of the controller, to grab your hips.
You, relaxed, let your back fall on his chest, then, you let your head fall back on his shoulder and you close your eyes to feel every inch of him. You can feel his hot breath on your neck, and you can feel him holding himself back from thrusting into you.
‘You alright?’
His friends ask.
‘Yeah yeah…’
Your boyfriend lies, he clearly couldn’t handle being in you without doing anything. The more time passed, the harder he got.
And to tease him even more, you decide to move a little bit, bend over, and slightly jump when he kills.
‘Fuck…’
He whispers, then act like everything is normal after his friends ask him what’s wrong. Later, since you see him struggling and you want to please him, you decide to give him a chance to fuck you. You get closer to his ear.
‘Win the game and I’ll jump on it.’
You tell him. You words motivate him and he starts playing way more seriously. He doesn’t let anyone touch him and kills them all.
You occasionally praising him with ‘good boy’ or ‘good job’.
Once it was only him and another player on the game, he went on full try hard mode. He loved the adrenaline.
But it didn’t last long since he saw the other player, and killed him in a second. ‘Top #1’ appearing on the screen. He’s happy that he won but is even happier about what’s going to happen.
He throws the controller on the bed, mutes again his mic and grabs firmly your hips. Hands sliding to your ass from times to times.
You start jumping on him easily thanks to your wetness and his pre-cum, as he moans in relief. All you can hear now is the sound of your ass slapping against his hips, the wet sound of your pre-cum mixing together, and your moans.
Every time he lets you take the lead while making love it always reminds you of when he came late from work, tired, and he’d just beg you to fuck him or suck him off. It was one of the few times he let you take the lead, or be a top.
You do your best to fuck him good. You go deep, then fast, then aggressive, then slow…
The game was still on and Jungkook’s friends were still calling for him. So loudly that you could hear them even without having the headset on. But he didn’t care, he was too busy and you were his priority.
Suddenly, you feel like your orgasm approaching and making you weaker. Consequently, you’re getting more sloppy.
But he feels it and with his hands already on your hips, he helps you jump up and down on it and guides you to rock your hips against his.
‘I- I’m gonna cu-cum!’
You cry out. Your walls clenching around his thick cock.
‘Hold it. Be a good girl and only cum when I tell you to.’
He says in a deep voice.
‘O-okay!’
So you do your best to not disappoint your lovely boyfriend, and do your best to not cum. His moans get louder and harmonize with yours. He also gets more and more aggressive, faster, and keeps on hitting your sweet spot, like usual. But it doesn’t take long for him to reach his highest point.
Then suddenly, a long moan slips off in between his lips as he fills you up. Painting your walls with his white semen. He throws his head back and breathes heavily.
‘Now… cum for me baby girl.’
He says, tired but he still gathers his energy to give you his best performance. Without any surprise, in less than a minute you find yourself cumming all over his cock. Your juice mixing up with his, and as you get off of him, it slides down on Jungkook’s dick.
You still go back on his lap then to kiss him lazily but passionately, whispering sweet words to each other.
‘Good girl. You did a good job today.’
He whispers with his lips against yours.
Then, later, after bringing you to the toilet, he played two last games with you napping on his lap, your head on his shoulder and arms around him. Then after, he lifted you up and brought you to your bed, and let you sleep until he finished cooking dinner.
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Thank you for reading! Likes are veryyyy appreciated, but be aware that reblogs and comments truly help the writes get more exposure<3 thank you!
Masterlist
1K notes · View notes
runa-falls · 9 months
Note
Omfg I just had an amazing idea (I hope this hasn’t been done before or I’ll look stupid LMAO)
In ATSV, there’s that scene where Miguel Molly rocks miles into that train or whatever, and says that he’s been left to clean up his mess yeah? And no one ever acknowledges how much he’s really doing to keep everything together :((
Reader who appreciates everything that Miguel does for the multiverse in more ways than one. Fluff/smut porn with a little bit of plot for the distinguished gentlemen/ladies/people (I also just like longer fics lol)
Plz I’ll literally drop to my knees and beg you’re my savior 🙏🙏🙏
GN reader plzz ❤️❤️ily
pairing: miguel o'hara x gn!reader
cw: explicit (18+), angst, nipple play, comfort head, face fucking, rough handling, choking, cum eating.
wc: 2.5k
a/n: thanks for sending this in nonnie! i love angst/comfort :)) wasn't sure if you were ok with a reader who has female genitalia so i just wrote non-penetrative stuff...
thank you @campingwiththecharmings for reading this over <3 LOVE YOU BAE
masterlist
--
sometimes miguel comes home in silence.
he won't announce himself as he enters the front door or walk into every room to find and greet you with a tired smile and kiss like he usually does.
you won't even realize he's home until large arms suddenly wrap around you to pull you close late at night. Until he's guiding you into bed, holding your body so tight that you can't get away. you can't leave him.
sometimes he doesn't come back at all.
sometimes you have to sleep alone, huddling your face into his pillow, reminding yourself how capable he is -- that he's going to be okay. that he'll be back soon.
miguel is sweet. too sweet for his own good.
he works hard to make his life with you as normal as possible. he does it for you, but also for that part of him that craves domesticity.
the part that remembers having a family, a house in the suburbs, and a regular routine of waking up, eating, working, and sleeping.
he tries to keep everything bad -- all his stress, frustrations, anger, and fears -- at work. he never wants to bring it home to you. never wants you to have to hold the weight of his struggles on your shoulders.
so when he starts to lose his grip, he hides away.
and when he can't hold on any longer, he doesn't come home at all.
---
today, miguel came back quiet but not silent.
he opened the front door swiftly, kicking it shut behind him before making a beeline to the kitchen and grabbing a drink.
even if you weren't already downstairs, you'd be able to hear him.
he immediately hid away to the back porch, still in his suit, sitting on a bench that he put together when you first bought the house. his glove-covered hands clutch a cool beer that's already sweating from the balmy summer air.
you watch from the living room, perched on the couch, as he sits there in silence, barely moving a muscle.
he completely missed you when he walked in, too distracted by the mound of thoughts rushing through his mind.
this must be where he goes when he doesn't want to worry you. when he wants to be home but not present.
his dull crimson eyes drift shut as he lets the stress of the day roll off of him in waves, releasing the tension from his shoulders and the pinch at the middle of his eyebrows.
he tilts his head back until it bumps against the back wall of the house, letting out a sigh as he's supported from falling back.
slowly shutting your laptop and setting it to the side, you choose to just stare out the window and observe him as he watches the world move around him.
ever since you've known him, the fate of the multiverse has weighed on his shoulders and no matter how much he tries, how much he's done, it just keeps going. it's a never-ending cycle of protecting, saving, and destroying.
it's not healthy, but where would you be without him? where would anyone be?
there's an unspoken rule in your relationship to never talk about these occasional scenes of silence because you both know that you'd risk breaking the illusion -- the faux life where he can hang up his suit at the front door and come home to dinner with his partner.
like how it was before. how it could've been.
your shared temporary happiness, or sporadic bouts of happiness, was never meant to last long in the first place.
so why ruin something that can only be yours for a few more moments?
by the time he gets up from the old bench, the sun is setting, and his beer is long drained, bottle dangling prettily from his long fingers.
you don't even realize the hours of silence you've shared with him through the glass window until you hear the back door squeak open.
you look up and meet his eyes as he stands there frozen. he wasn't expecting you to be there. to see what you saw.
"...have you been there the whole time?" the door clicks shut behind him, but he stays put. you nod sheepishly, feeling like you've been caught doing something illegal. "i-i'm sorry i didn't say hi...i was distracted."
"no, it's ok. i was just answering emails--" you look down at your laptop, the one you shut off a few hours ago, "--until i decided to rest my eyes."
you aren't a very good liar, but it doesn't seem to matter. miguel hums absently, lost in his thoughts, placing his empty beer bottle on a table nearby. his movements are slower than usual when he shuffles closer to the couch.
"are you okay, honey?" you put your computer on the coffee table and turn toward him.
his eyes shut and he takes a deep breath, one hand holding onto the back of the couch for support. that answers the question for you.
you should've known not to ask that question. it never leads anywhere good. he'll either lie with a flat 'fine' or --
"I'm...tired." he finally says, a mere whisper like he doesn't want to admit it. you tilt your head, finally taking in his slouched shoulders and exhausted eyes.
of course, he's tired. he should be tired.
"come 'ere," you stretch out your arms, gesturing him to sit next to you. he walks over, plopping himself right against you, nearly sitting on you, but you don't mind. you wrap your arms around his broad shoulder, feeling him melt at your comforting touch.
it feels so good to have him in your arms again, to feel his unnatural warmth permeate through his super-suit. though you wake up in each other's arms every morning, you still crave his touch and his tendency to lean his whole weight against you like a lazy housecat.
"you've been working so hard, miguel..." he nods silently against your shoulder, nuzzling his head further into your space.
"someone has to..." he mutters, body already less tense than it was a few seconds ago.
"you don't have to, but you do anyway. you put your life on the line, day in, day out, protecting those who don't even know the dangers you're keeping them from."
he snorts, "you're making me sound a lot more heroic than i actually am. i'm just doing what needs to be done."
"you are heroic! you're a hero -- my hero."
his head lifts from your shoulder, "...really?"
his burgundy eyes sparkle when they meet yours, the first glimmer of energy that you've seen in him today. you smile, but you can't decide if it's a happy smile or not. on one hand you're sad. sad that he can't see how amazing he is, or how much he's done for the universe -- the multiverse.
but you're also happy that you get these moments with him. that you are at the receiving end of those sparkling eyes and hopeful looks. that he cares about your opinion that much.
"yes, really."
"you're not tired of me yet? of dating the busiest man in nueva york?"
"never." you lean into him, gently pressing your lips against his. you're suddenly giddy when he kisses back, lips moving expertly against yours. then he's smiling against you.
before you could pull back, he tugged you closer by the collar of your shirt, deepening the kiss, tongue tangling with yours. you giggle lightly when his hand slowly drifts down, fingers running over your chest and squeezing at your waist.
"thought you were tired?" you tease when you pull away. miguel is barely listening, too focused on pulling your shirt off. "miguel!"
"not right now, cariño. wanna see you." the cool air of the living room quickly wraps around you, your nipples pebbling right under his stare.
his eyes darken to a deep cherry hue as he teases you with a flick of his thumb. you whimper at how sensitive you feel, especially with how the texture of his gloves contrast with the softness of your skin, the delicate point of your bud.
"you're always so responsive for me..." he coos, "so nice, jus' letting me touch you like this." you gasp when he pinches you, goosebumps raising over the expanse of your body. his touch drifts down to the top of your pants, tan hands fiddling with the waistband teasingly.
you take a hold of his wrist before he could pull them down and he immediately stops, looking up at your face, wondering if he overstepped. you bite your lip as you build the courage to say what you want.
"wait, i-i wanna do something for you."
"what d'you mean?" miguel's hand comes up to cup your cheek, "you always do something for me, just by being by my side."
you want to fawn over his words, melt against his body while he does whatever he wants to you, but you quickly remind yourself that sometimes he needs to let go. that you should do the work and let him relax.
"please, miguel, just... let me." your hands move over the large bulge that presses against his flexible suit. you hear him sigh as you squeeze him gently. his hips buck into your hold, eager for your touch. "c-can you take it off please?"
"you mean you weren't just going to mouth over my suit until i cum?"
an intense heat flushes throughout your face at the idea. how filthy and needy that would be! you could imagine how his cock would throb under the material, how his cum would soak over the front of his crotch...
"i-i could--"
"-- i'm kidding, sweetheart." he chuckles, clicking a few buttons on his watch. his suit disappears without a warning and his muscled torso flexes under you from the sudden coolness of the room. he's wearing tight briefs underneath his suit, contouring his desperate hardness underneath.
you experimentally smooth a hand over him, watching avidly as the veins in his forearm pulse as he attempts holds himself back. you carefully tug his underwear down to reveal the wet mess that his dripping cock has made for you.
you run a finger over his sensitive tip and spread the precum that spills every time he takes a breath. he shivers at the feeling, eyes glowering as he watches you tease him. "are you just gonna stare or actually do something about it?" he growls, tired of the delicate touches and shy looks.
you don't answer him, instead, you dip down, licking softly over his shaft before shallowly suckling his tip into your mouth. he groans deeply, fingers instinctively burrowing into your hair without pushing you down.
"you're so sweet to me, baby. sucking my cock into your throat just to make me feel better..." you close your eyes as you start to take him deeper, swallowing around him until you feel the head of his cock nudge the back of your throat. "you like this don't you?"
his grip on your head tightens when you moan around him, saliva dripping messily over his lap.
"fuck!" his hips buck and it shoves him further into your throat. not expecting the harsh intrusion, you choke around him, eyes watering as you struggle to breathe through your nose. "s-sorry, you're just so hot when you drool over me."
your legs tighten as his rough voice whispers soft apologies. he sounds so needy and desperate like he's barely holding himself back from fucking your throat.
you quickly recover with a hum, hand resting against his firm torso for support as you lift yourself off of him. he lightly holds onto your arm, staring lustfully at your flushed face and slick lips as you breathe heavily on top of him.
you're suddenly shy as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, despite sitting over him topless and cock-drunk.
"you know you can fuck my face if you want..." you offer, unable to meet his eyes. he doesn't let you look away though. his rough hand holds you by the jaw, making sure you can't escape the simmering heat in his eyes.
"don't say that baby...'cause i'll actually do it." his hips start to move as you stroke him again, fucking your fist harshly until your hand starts to tingle from the wet friction.
"...i want you to."
"really?"
"you work so hard, mig. you deserve some appreciation..."
"please, cariño..." he begs, breathlessly.
you lean over him and take him back into your mouth, bobbing your head as your tongue slicks against the underside of his shaft. he doesn't hesitate when he shoves your head down, forcing you to swallow all of him down.
he feels you gag a few times before he lets go. he almost didn't though. the feeling of your whine was euphoric as it vibrated up from your throat and against your lips. you're a mess on top of him, precum and drool coating your mouth, chin, and hands.
miguel lovingly brushes some stray hairs that have fallen in front of your face behind your ear as you continue to suck on him. he starts with soft thrusts into your mouth, dragging his cock slowly over the silk touch of your tongue. you open wide, round eyes staring politely up at him as he fucks your mouth from below.
he loves having control over you -- actually, he loves it when you give him control because it means you trust him, even after seeing all sides of him, good and bad, you're still with him.
he groans at how cute you look, his huge cock stuffing your pretty mouth. his hands move to hold both sides of your head, guiding you onto him until you can fully engulf him between your lips.
he can't hold back anymore; he needs to feel your throat tighten around him as you struggle to swallow him down your throat. he watches himself disappear down your throat, how eagerly you drink him in without a complaint.
his hips snap against your mouth, filling you over and over until your jaw aches. you whimper, heavy eyes watching as he falls apart for your mouth.
"i-i'm getting close--" he warns shakily, unable to stop his frantic movements when you look at him like that. it only takes a few more thrusts before he's spilling into your mouth. he finishes deep inside of you, cock prodding the back of your throat.
you drink him in, tasting his distinct salty sweetness, listening to his delicious groans as he comes down from his high. he jerks when your soft touches start to push him towards overstimulation, moans turning desperate.
"baby, enough, please."
you release him from your mouth, lips tingly and plump.
"feel better?" you sound raspy, even with how quietly you're speaking.
"i feel amazing, mi vida." he pulls you on top of him and holds you close (though it's insanely hot with your skin pressed against his like this). you cuddle him back, smiling as he pecks your tacky neck and shoulder lazily.
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pachimation · 6 months
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redrawing my very first chiscara comic/art i ever did for chscr day!!
old comic under the cut!!
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lol a bunch of sappy semi serious stuff below bc i cant help but be a bit genuine about this ship today :’3
i cant possibly put into words how important this silly little ship and its community mean to me haha,,,, this comic was made in 2021 but i didnt really get serious about chscr until late 2022 after a bunch of pretty bad interpersonal stuff happened and i needed an outlet,, COINCIDENTALLY a certain someone was announced to be playable around then and i was already thought chscr was Pretty Neat™️ so i ended up diving headfirst into the ship. it also gave me a good excuse to work on more comics too!! i’d done a pretty big zhongven comic earlier that year in the summer, but in terms of lore there was only so much i could have worked with at the moment.
childe and scaramouche have that perfect combination of silliness and angst and violence that could be explored or expanded in so many ways and i love love love seeing other people’s interpretations of their dynamic and relationship. they’re so complex,,,,they’re narrative foils,,,they’re narrative parallels,,,they’re trans allegories,,,they’re flies in the spiderweb of the games lore,,,they’re my stupid little meow meows,,, they’re just two losers i want to see make out,,,
in a nutshell, they’re everything to me. well, i hope i get that kind of sentiment across in my own comics,,,,
and i cant get started on all the people ive met through chiscara or the way that having something i can call “my thing”, as in, the thing that i like and that i will spend a lot of time and effort (and money, but lets not talk about that) to surround myself with because it makes me smile. its stupid to say, but being a nerd about these two stupid guys who have never had a single canon onscreen interaction in some random game has made me a much happier and confident person that i could have ever imagined back in my freshman year of college,,, when i say i dont know who i’d be if i hadnt gotten into chiscara, i really do mean it lol
i’m actually surprised i’m making it to over a full year of regular-ishly making art, especially for the same game and ship! thats never happened before and my art has improved so much over this past year!! more than anything else, i’m happy! i get to be excited talking about these characters with my friends and i love to see art of them pop up on the tl. i make stickers of them and decorate my phonecase with them and have little figures of them in my room that i look at when im up late at night working on schoolwork. sometimes just the thought of finishing a comic or daydreaming about a scenario or seeing what my mutuals are up to are some of the few things getting me through a tough day.
,,,,so believe me when i say, to both childe and scara and to everyone else as obsessed with these pathic losers as i am, thank you! i’m having a lot of fun!!!
(also i just found out tumblrs copy/paste doesnt work on my ipad??? idk if this ends up legible i may or may not have deleted smth by accident and im not in a mood to proofread haha)
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