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vanteguccir · 1 day

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Wisdom Teeth Chaos | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Y/N faces the terrifying experience of having four wisdom teeth removed. With her boyfriend, Matt, and his brothers by her side, Y/N goes through moments of anxiety, laughter, and confusion under the influence of anesthesia.

Warning: Mentions of blood, pain, surgery, dentist, anesthesia.

Requested?: Yes, by anon

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The sun shone high in the sky as Y/N and Matt got into the car, ready to face the journey to the dentist's office.

"You're going to be okay, honey." Matt said as he arranged himself in the driver's seat, casting a quick glance of genuine concern in his girlfriend's direction, who spent the entire morning glued to himself, exposing her fear into emotions and complaints.

Y/N smiled small, buckling her seatbelt and moving her body above the upholstered so she found a comfortable position, trying to shake off the bad thoughts about the surgery.

"I hope so, but I can't promise I won't put on a little show in there." The girl joked, trying to relax the atmosphere, resting her hands on her thighs so that her slightly sweaty palms were in contact with the fabric of her jeans.

"I doubt you're the worst patient they've ever seen." The boy laughed as he started the car, turning his head to his right and sending her a wink.

Nick and Chris quickly settled into the middle seats of the car, each of them with a reassuring smile on their face. Nick held the camera firmly in his hands, lowering his gaze to the screen and changing a few settings.

They were like brothers to Y/N, and their presence there was comforting for her.

“Ready for the adventure, Y/N?” Chris asked with a mischievous smile, rubbing the palm of his hands before leaning his body forward and placing his upper body on the car console so that he could see the girl's reaction more closely, placing his right hand on the back of her seat to stabilize himself.

A loud curse from Nick was heard, the boy complaining that Chris was blocking the camera's view before forcefully pulling him back against his own seat.

"If by adventurous you mean a terrifying one, then yes." The girl sighed, ignoring their bickering while pretending to be excited before closing her eyes tightly, pressing the bridge of her nose with the index finger and thumb of her right hand, trying to relieve some of the tension there.

During the first few minutes of the trip, Y/N tried to remain calm, but anxiety began to seep into her chest, leaving a metallic taste in her mouth. She looked at the clock on the car dashboard and saw that there were still twenty minutes until they arrived at the office, even though it seemed like they had already been inside the car for hours.

"Matt, I changed my mind. Can we go home?" Y/N interrupted Chris's yapping from the backseat, her voice trembling slightly as her hands balled into fists above her thighs, a result of her nervousness.

Matt glanced at her quickly before returning his attention to the road ahead, taking his right hand off the steering wheel briefly and moving it towards his girl, reaching blindly for her own, intertwining their fingers and giving hers a firm and comforting squeeze.

"You're kidding, right? We're already halfway there, my love. Look, it's going to be okay. I promise." The brunette murmured gently, trying to calm her nerves as he kept his attention on the road, frowning slightly in concentration.

"I know, it's just... I hate dentists so much, and I don't know if I want to take anesthesia." The girl admitted, shrugging her shoulders as she forced a small smile, squeezing Matt's hand back.

"Don't worry, girl, we'll be in the room with you the entire time." Nick said from the backseat, his voice sounding comforting, interrupting whatever negative thoughts Y/N's mind was creating at that moment, earning a weak nod in response.

The minutes dragged by slowly as the car made its way down the road. Y/N tried to distract herself by looking out the window, but the sight of buildings and businesses quickly passing by only increased her agitation.

"Have you thought about what you're going to do with your wisdom teeth after they're removed?" Chris asked suddenly, interrupting the tense silence as he kept his eyes fixed on the scenery outside the vehicle.

Y/N blinked, surprised by the sudden question.

"Well, I thought I'd ask the doctor to keep them for me. Maybe I could make a necklace-" The girl interrupted her own sentence, widening her eyes and turning her torso to her left side abruptly, gripping the side of her own seat with her right hand so that she could look at the back and the driver's seat at the same time. "No, wait, I can put it under my pillow, right?" The volume of her voice rose quickly, sudden excitement dripping into her words.

"Pillow? Why would-"

"For the tooth fairy, obviously! I'm going to remove four wisdom teeth. Do you know how much money I could make from that? I don't, but I know it's a lot!" She rambled, breaking into a big smile as her eyes went from Matt to Nick and Chris and back again.

"It's 40 dollars, Y/N." Nick responded in an amused tone, turning to Chris and letting out a silent laugh. The youngest shrugged, leaning over the space between one seat and another and taking the camera from Nick's hands.

"They can't give your teeth back, honey. When they take them out, your teeth turn to dust." Matt said as if he was speaking to a child, a hidden smile growing on his face as he kept his eyes straight ahead, raising them momentarily to the rearview mirror and casting an amused glance at Nick, who was already looking back at him, knowing he was joking.

"No! Babe, don't say that. Are you serious?" Y/N screamed, her eyes widening comically before tears began to well up in her eyes, shining against the sunlight, her mouth forming an involuntary pout.

"Oh no, don't cry. If you cry, I'll cry, too." Nick noticed her tearful expression, closing his eyes tightly and bringing the palm of his hands to his own, rubbing his blue orbs harshly, trying to shake off his own emotions.

"Oh no, Nick, don't you dare cry-" Chris's voice was interrupted by a loud sob coming from Y/N, which tore from her throat, tears escaping her eyes without permission.

Her ears quickly caught the loud laughter of Matt and Chris, and Nick's sniffles, while her boyfriend squeezed her hand tightly, trying to convey support and reassurance even though he was laughing at her sensitive state.

As they got closer to the office, Y/N's heart started to beat faster. She felt a mixture of fear and excitement bubbling inside her and knew that soon she would be facing the inevitable.

"I think I'm having a panic attack." The girl murmured, her voice muffled by the crying she had minutes before as her nose sniffled repeatedly.

"No, you're not." Matt said amused, rolling his eyes playfully before squeezing Y/N's hand one last time, slowly releasing it and taking his back to the wheel so that he could concentrate on entering the building's parking lot, parking the car in one of the free spaces closest to the main entrance.

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves as she exited the vehicle with the help of her boyfriend. She knew she had a long road ahead, but with Matt and the triplets by her side, she felt like she could face the situation she had put off for so many weeks. And so, with one last sigh, she entered the office.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N was already in the dental chair, nervously looking up at the white ceiling as the doctor prepared everything around her. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest as her hands sweated nervously. Matt caressed her right shoulder firmly and carefully, conveying the silent support she needed so much at that moment.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" Matt asked, tilting his head down so he could look better at her.

"Of course I am." She responded, swallowing hard, trying to force a smile while focusing her eyes on his, though her voice betrayed her anxiety.

Nick and Chris were a little further away, on her right side and close to the large wall of windows, their expressions a mixture of concern and unsuccessful attempts to hide their laughter. The fact that Nick knew what the feeling and procedure was like made him more amused by her present and future state.

As the doctor began moving equipment, Y/N watched curiously. She extended her right arm, allowing one of the nurses to attach the blood pressure and heart rate monitor to the correct location, feeling a shiver run down her spine. This was getting very real very fast.

"I feel like an astronaut about to take off." Y/N teased, biting her bottom lip lightly, trying to ease the tension out of herself.

"Well, at least there's no zero gravity to deal with." Nick chuckled softly, zooming the camera to the surrounding equipment before looking at the girl, offering her a reassuring smile.

Chris let out a laugh at his response, it echoing through the office and bringing a bit of lightness to the tense environment.

"I hate that sound. It reminds me of Grey's Anatomy, exactly when a patient is about to die." The girl said suddenly, pointing with her chin at the machine where the sounds of her heart were coming from.

"Hey, don't say that." Matt warned amid laughter, shaking his head while still caressing her shoulder, squeezing the area gently to relieve her muscle tension.

As the doctor began to prepare the IV, Y/N felt a wave of panic pass through her body. She looked at the thin tube with wide eyes and an expression of horror, watching him take off the cover and connect the wire to the syringe with the anesthesia.

"Matt." She muttered in a shaky voice, her lips trembling again as she clenched her right hand into a fist, accidentally letting the heart rate meter slip out.

"Hey, pretty girl, I'm right here. I won't leave your side, I promise. When you wake up, we can get ice cream from that ice cream shop you love, huh?" Matt curved his spine slightly so that his face was close to hers, holding her chin with his free hand and pulling it towards him, looking deep into his girl's eyes.

Chris quickly moved forward, taking her best friend's right hand gently and arranging the meter back into its correct place.

The doctor finished preparing the IV and approached Y/N with it, extending the girl's left arm gently and cleaning the injection site. Y/N forced herself to keep her eyes fixed on the blue ones she loved, Matt quickly acting to cover the exposed side of her head with the palm of his free hand, creating a covering over her eyes.

The girl her breath as the doctor inserted the needle into her vein, feeling it enter centimeter by centimeter, but to her surprise, it didn't hurt as much as she expected.

"It's not that bad." The girl murmured seconds after feeling the needle not moving anymore, feeling a little relieved, blinking repeatedly in an attempt to keep the tears away.

"See? You're doing so good, my love. My brave girl." Matt smiled big, tilting his face forward and kissing her forehead gently.

As the anesthesia began to take effect, Y/N felt a tingling sensation spread throughout her body. She blinked a few times, trying to get used to the strange sensation and regain her vision, which was becoming slightly blurred.

"When did the ceiling start dancing?" Y/N asked, interrupting what Nick was reporting to the camera, her eyes fixed on the ceiling that seemed to be moving erratically.

Matt laughed softly, his hand - still on his girlfriend's shoulder - shook slightly from the action, being followed by Chris and Nick, their laughter filling the office.

"I think the anesthesia is taking effect." Chris watched in amusement, crossing his arms and approaching, his voice sounding a little distant to the girl's ears.

Y/N laughed, feeling lighter than ever, blinking slowly.

"I never thought I'd say this, but I think I'm really enjoying it." She said groggily, her voice sounding sleepy as she gave in to the anesthesia.

"Baby-" Matt began, his speech being interrupted by his own laughter, his index and thumb fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in disbelief. "What's your word, love?"

But the answer didn't come, his girlfriend having given herself over to a deep anesthesia-induced sleep.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N blinked her eyes slowly, trying to focus her vision as the haze of sleep began to dissipate. She felt groggy and disoriented, but a sense of relief washed over her body when she understood that the surgery was over. She blinked a few times, trying to take in her surroundings.

“Hi, Y/N, how are you feeling?” Nick asked in a calm tone, leaning closer to her with a gentle smile, giving space for the camera in Chris' hands to capture the moment.

Y/N turned her head towards him, blinking slowly, her mind still clouded trying to assimilate that it was Nick there with her.

"As if I'd been run over by an elephant." She murmured, her voice sounding strangely loud to her own ears, shaking her head from side to side as fast as she could, trying to stay conscious.

Matt entered the room again, having gone away for some minutes to talk to the doctor about post-surgical care, his serious face lighting up when he noticed Y/N already awake.

"Look who's back! Are you okay, sweetheart?" The boy asked, extending out his hand and reaching for hers, holding it tenderly and firmly, stroking the back of her palm with his thumb.

"I-" As soon as Y/N opened her mouth to speak, one of the gauze that sealed the right side of her mouth above her gums escaped her lips. Her eyes instantly widened, a loud sound of surprise echoing through the room. "Oh no, my tongue fell out."

"Your-" Chris began, his own laughter interrupting his sentence.

Matt turned to the camera, laughing loudly as he closed his eyes tightly, keeping his hand on his girlfriend's shoulder, trying to hide his own reaction from her.

"That's not your tongue, baby." The brunette said while still laughing, shaking his head.

"It is! They made my tongue fall out and removed my cheeks." The girl fumed, rolling her eyes nervously as she tried to cross her arms, the loud alarm sound echoing from the heart rate meter machine abruptly interrupting her action.

"Y/N, you can't take out the meter." Nick warned in a firm tone, arranging the small equipment back on her finger with his free hand.

"I'm sweating, I need to take this off. It's making me overheat." The girl spoke again, ignoring the demanding tone Nick was using, waving her arm with the IV in the air, silently indicating that she was talking about her hoodie.

"But you love wearing hoodie, pretty." Matt murmured, frowning as he leaned over her upper body, lowering her arm gently.

"Not this one! I like yours. Mine is a piece of shit." Y/N exclaimed as if it was obvious, rolling her eyes again.

The sound of Nick's loud laughter echoed off the walls of the small room, as Matt stared at her in disbelief, widening his eyes and taking them from his girl to the camera and back again.

"Here, baby." The boy sighted, taking his hand off Y/N's shoulder momentarily so that he could pull his own hoodie up, passing the piece over his arms before arranging it on the correct side, leaving his own upper body covered only by a white t-shirt. "You can have mine."

Matt stretched the hoodie over Y/N's upper body, keeping it over her own hoodie, knowing he wouldn't be able to take it off due to the IV.

"Thank you, kind sir." Y/N genuinely thanked him, opening a big and childlike smile. "Oh no, take this one off and put yours on me, Matty." She spoke again seconds later after noticing that her boyfriend's hoodie was just resting on her body.

“No way, Y/N, you have the IV.” Chris answered for Matt, briefly pointing to his best friend's left arm.

"What... Wow, what is this? Am I a toy or something?" The girl's tone came out louder than expected, her eyes widening comically as she raised her arm again, seeming to remember just at that moment the small thread that connected the needle to the anesthesia.

"It's the IV, my love. It's harmless, I promise. Does it hurt?" Matt explains gently, leaning into her slightly and squeezing her shoulder gently, drawing her attention back to him.

"No... Are they gonna fix my tongue?" Y/N returned to the first subject in a matter of seconds, lowering her gaze and focusing on the piece of blood red gauze above, now, Matt's hoodie.

"That's not your tongue, Y/N. It's just gauze. Put it back." Nick spoke this time, zooming in on the camera to catch his best friend's next reaction.

"I can't do it. There's an electrical wire connected to me." The girl remembered, rolling her eyes and raising her IV-covered arm, focusing her eyes there for a few seconds.

"Then ask your boyfriend."

"I have a boyfriend?!" Y/N turned her face towards the triplets abruptly, her eyes filling with tears within seconds as her lips trembled comically, even though she herself had been calling Matt "baby" this entire time.

"Of course you do, sweet girl. I'm right here. Remember? I'm your boyfriend, Matt." Matt quickly responded, his tone coming out as gentle as never before. He crouched on the floor, resting on his bent knees so that he was at eye level with her, giving her a genuine smile.

"Oh my God, that's awesome! You're so pretty. How did I manage to win you?" Y/N asked excitedly, raising her right hand and bringing it to her supposed boyfriend's face, cupping his right cheek lightly, feeling the skin heat up beneath her fingers.

A sound of surprise escaped Matt's lips as the heart rate monitor preacher almost stabbed into his eye, a low chuckle following soon after.

"You didn't have to win me, I was the one that had to win you, babe." The boy declared, leaning closer to her and sealing the tip of her nose for long seconds, pulling away in time to see her close her eyes and wrinkle her nose cutely. "We'll go home soon, okay? I love you, sweetheart. You were so brave."

"You love me?" Y/N exclaimed again, the tears that had been in her eyes until that moment finally spilling over and rolling down her cheeks, leaving a wet, red trail behind, her skin reacting instantly to the intense emotions.

"I do, my love. I love you very much."

Nick and Chris watched the scene with eyes full of amusement, the camera capturing every second of the couple's interaction and the muffled laughs that the two emitted behind the lens.

"So, are you comfortable on that "chair"?" Chris asked suddenly, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

Y/N snapped her head towards the youngest, opening her mouth slightly and processing his question for a few seconds.

"Yeah." The girl nodded slowly, removing her right hand from Matt's face and feeling the upholstery of the chair beneath her.

"Is it better than my gaming chair?" Nick asked then, smiling behind the camera, briefly remembering the times his best friend found refuge in his room and the two spent hours talking while she sat comfortably in his gaming chair.

"Do you have a chair?" She asked with wide eyes, tilting her head up to see Nick better, slightly pushing Matt to the side with her free hand, earning a laugh from Chris when he saw his brother almost fall completely onto the cold floor.

"Yeah, you have one, too! And so does Matt."

"I have a chair? For myself?" Her lips formed an involuntary pout, her eyes filling with tears again, the previous ones having stopped flowing only seconds before, her emotions acting on their own.

"Of course you do, baby! You study on it and play video games on my computer on it, too." Matt stated, nodding quickly as he returned to his previous position. "Now, do you remember who I am?"

Y/N turned her gaze back to Matt again, her orbs traveling over every detail of his face, her lower lip trembling slightly as her heart clenched tightly inside her chest. He was so beautiful.

"My baby, my baby-" A sob interrupted her speech, tears escaping her eyes like waterfalls. "You're my baby. I love you s-so much. You're- You're so p-pretty!"

"Yeah, sweet girl! Well done, I'm your baby, and I love you way more." The brunette replied in a bashful tone, pouting as he watched her cry like a little kid over something so simple, his own eyes welling with tears.

"You two are unbelievable." Chris shook his head, crossing his arms and looking into the camera lens with a look of "do you believe this?"

"Matty." The girl called again a few seconds later, ignoring the youngest of the triplets, closing her eyes tightly to wipe away the tears stuck in her eyelashes, her nose sniffling repeatedly. She took a deep breath and sticked her swollen tongue out of her mouth, trying to lick the tears that rested on her upper lip, even without feeling absolutely anything in the region. "I think my mouth is on it's period..."

"Oh my God, baby, what?"

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

My requests are closed, but my asks are always open ♡

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

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yorutsuki · 1 day

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「 ✦ Frustrated Pleasures ✦ 」 (SMUT +18)

Boothill x reader

↳ How did it all end up like this? You, on his bed, spread and a senseless fuck doll. The once sly and cool demeanored ranger to a hot, sweaty and panting mess—yearning to get his frustrations out.

[ gender neutral reader; they/them ]

Warnings: Sex, degration, slapping, overstimulation.

Tags: @volliix

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Your sweet moans filled Boothill's ears like music while skin to skin contact filled the roams empty silence.

"God {Y/N}.." He panted, thrusting back in. His cock dissapearing once more into your overstimulated hole—making your nerves feel a overwhelming rippling sensation of pleasure.

Just a while ago, Boothill was as sly and neutral as he always has been and now? He was mercilessly ravaging you like a dog in heat.

Just how did that happen?

Acheron.

Simple as that, you mentioned her name once and just like that, here you were, spread upon the mattress and fucked senselessly by the Galaxy Ranger.

"B-Boothill, s' too much !" You whined out, clawing into the pillow even harder as his shaft touched your sensitive spot perfectly. "Did I say you...can speak, you fucking slut..." He hissed between breaths and thrust, slapping your ass.

Your breath hitched at the painful pleasure from the contact yet ultimately tried your best keeping quiet.

"This.." He grunted, fastening and hardening his pace. "-is what you deserve, ya?" He chuckled before tugging your hair, it acting as a leash of sorts. You moaned out a sob of yes's. "Good fucking slut." He praised with a chuckle, letting go of your hair, moving one hand to your hips and the other to your wrists, pinning them above your head to the pillow.

You moaned out as you felt a deep knot form in the bit of your stomach. "S-shit..you cummin' already?" He panted. You only whinned in response.

He chuckled once more, going faster n' harder, slamming his cock deep into your needy hole—earning a deep moan from you as the knot got tighter.

"I'm gonna-!" You hissed out as your eyes rolled back but felt the pit of your stomach drop as you felt him pull away, leaving your hole throbbing in desperation for the pleasuring feeling once more.

"W-why, p-please I was—I was so close..!" You whined, trying to move your hips for friction. "P-please-!" You were shut up with a small slap to the cheek. "Shut the fuck up." Boothill seethed, "get on your stomach." He demanded, his tone cold and sweaty.

Obliging, you rolled over before you letting a yelp out as you felt cold metal hands lift your hips up. Without warning, you moaned a grunt as you felt him enter back in, filling the empty feeling once more. Without hesitation, he started moving his hips at a quick pace—the knot returning once more.

As he moved he chuckled into your neck. "Your going to be my little fuck doll—rid all of my frustrations, into your little cunt, yeah?" He breathed out, grunting at just the thought.

"F-fuck im close, you are too huh darlin'?" He panted. You could barely comprehend his words. All you could do was weakly nod asyour jaw parted from the pleasure.

"Hell..then fucking cum." He demanded, his pace going faster with every thrust. He could feel you clenched desperately around him to relieve the aching feeling.

"Oh God-!" "If you think God's going to be here, your a mistaken fool." Boothill commented with a chuckle. Before you could even process words, your body seized as you moaned loudly, cumming around his cock—your walls fluttering in a rhythmic pace.

"There we go.." He grinned before fastering his pace to reach his edge—overstimulating you in the process.

"Yes, fuck, fuck, fuck...!" He grunted loudly as he emptied his load within you. His thrusts slowing down until he was emptied out.

Only the sounds of your beating hearts and fast needy breathes filled the room. You were exhausted, your energy had depleted immensely and your lungs still worked to catch their much needed air.

Unfortunately for you, the galaxy ranger was no where near done—his frustration still lingering like new.

Your eyes widened in terror as you felt him roll you over once more before lifting your lower half up to meet with his still hardened length. "Didn't I say you'd be my frustration dumpster?"

..........

A/N: What the hell did I just write.

...

Ok before any miscommunication occurs; yes, i'm a minor. Yes, it does say +18. This fic was supposed to be a little thing to prove to my friend that smut isn't that hard to write and to get clout; a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do 😔 (This is my first time writing smut-) It may not be the best but it isn't the worst..I think-.

This is the only smut fic i'll be doing on this page until I say otherwise. You can think i'm a hypocrite for making this, but any harsh and negative comments will be deleted as I have already explained why this exists. If you need me to explain further, i'll answer questions.

#scenerios #x reader #oneshot #gender neutral reader #hsr #boothill #boothill x y/n #boothill honkai star rail #boothill x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #smut #boothill smut #x reader smut

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j-jinxee · 2 days

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NEEDY 4 U —★

NSFW under the cut! ⊹ Desperate Heeseung x Reader

[warnings - masturbation, cumming, swearing, oral (m receiving), fake fantasies.]

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"mm-fuck baby, ah! You're too good to me." Heeseung praised your mouth working up and down his cock, getting him closer and closer to his high. He glanced down at you through his tired eyes, being met with the sight of you taking his length down your throat so well.

Looking away before it became too much for him, fuck he was close, so ready to shoot his cum down your throat and make you swallow. His hands went down to gently grip your hair, gathering it to make a half ass pony tail as he used the leverage to push your head down further.

"mm-mmm~ fuck!" Heeseungs abs started to tense, his whole body feeling like it was on fire, all due to your pretty little warm mouth. He felt the way your tongue worked him perfectly, running along the veins on his shaft, teasing his tip with your lips, you knew exactly how to get him worked up. His balls tightened as he felt himself tip off the edge.

"mm-ah! fuckfuckfuck-" his head span as he began to see stars. Thick ropes of hot, white cum were shot down your throat, only satisfying Seung more when you swallowed and licked up every last drop. His chest rose and fell, attempting to catch his breath that was taken by that intense orgasm. "ahhhhh fuck baby."

His eyes finally opened.

Heeseung's vision was cloudy, head spinning from his eyes being screwed shut for so long. Yet again, being met with a disappointing, shameful sight.

His hand and stomach covered in semen, sweat dripping from his forehead, and his phone laying next to him, your contact open.

Fuck, he did it again. All wrapped up in his own thoughts and fantasies of you, ending with him being a tired, needy mess. You'd texted him a few hours ago when he was busy, just asking how he was and all that. He hadn't responded yet, coming home and immediately relieving himself to the thought of you.

"I'm great thanks, what're you up to tn?"

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THIS WAS SHORT I KNOW I just wanted to upload SOMETHING for enhypen hehe. My first Jake onehsot is nearly done hehe and I'm planning my Sunoo series so :D stay tuned hehe merci 🫶🏻

Ok cya, luv ya x

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bunnoia · 2 days

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⋆⭒˚.⋆𝜗𝜚 summary: you work as a flight attendant for a high class airline company, and can’t help but catch the attention of a certain someone

cw: sexual implications, gawking, mdni

The entire plane ride his eyes were on you. He couldn’t help it, the way you cheerfully greeted the passengers and danced down the aisle made him delirious. The outfit you wore only made it worse. The frangible lines of your tailored blouse and your impossibly tight pencil skirt hiked up a little too far. The soft silkiness of the bow fastened on your neck was the cherry on top. He imagined tying it around your wrists while he fucked you senseless. His eyes stared at your cheeky smile, the one you’d put on while speaking with passengers. He couldn’t help but feel his heart flip in his chest. He felt himself go hard in his jeans. The important papers on his lap rose ever so slightly. He continuously shifted in his seat to subdue the warmth he was feeling. And, as expected, the rest of the ride with you was complete hell.

diluc NANAMI, geto suguru, CHILDE, zhongli, dazai, ALHAITHAM, dottore, SATORU GOJO, scaramouche, wriothesley, TOJI

#jujutsu kaisen smut #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #nanami x reader #jjk x reader #gi x reader #gojo satoru #geto suguru #geto x reader #gojo x reader #nanami kento #wriothesely x reader #scaramouche #first post #drabble #oneshot

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roostersgirlfriendlovesf1 · 2 days

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loml | charles leclerc

summary: what happens when y/n wins it all and Charles feels like he cannot compete? how can two cope with heartbreak and can they come back together? y/n want to keep him, but can he deal with her having a win he doesn't have. when she realizes her worth can he get her back?

warnings: angst, sad, kinda fluff, heartbreak, breakups

The confetti poured down on y/n as she tried to put on a brave face, knowing her heart was breaking. Her lover's heart was breaking. She had won it all, whilst he lost it. She glanced at him on the third place podium, he gave her a nod as if to urge her to keep a straight face.

Her lip quivered as the cold trophy was placed in her hands. The crowd's sounds were distorted as they mixed with the sound of her country’s anthem. The only thing she wanted to hear was Charles’ voice. She mustered up a smile as she held the trophy up, champagne starting to spray. They made eye contact. His eyes added insult to injury. He wanted to hate her, she's here to destroy me. Anger confused him.

Flashback:

Y/n looked up at Charles with a smile before nuzzling her face back into his chest. At that moment all she wanted to do was melt into him. His comforting smell caused her to nuzzle closer. He ran a calloused hand through her hair as he admired her. Their little romance. It had been theirs and only theirs for eight months. A romance destined for tragedy. They weren’t meant to work out. The two best upcoming drivers with two very different stories. Charles had been through hardships, struggles of an uncooperative team. He deserved to win it all. Y/n had gotten it so easy, so carelessly talented and was greeted into F1 by the best team. Charles stopped brushing a hand over her hair, feeling a tear hit his stomach. “What is wrong?” He sat up.

“We are fighting for the championship.” She sniffled.

Charles just shook his head. “It’s the sport.”

“What happens when one of us wins?”

“One of us will watch.” He held his breath. Something in him had a bad feeling, but he didn’t have the courage to confront the anxiety. He spoke again. “I don’t know what will happen, but I know right now I love you.”

“I love you.” She nodded.

Champagne mixed with the tears flowing down her face as she fought through the spray. She felt a hand grab onto her shoulder. Charles pulled her into an embrace. “Go celebrate.” His accent muffled as his mouth pressed into the back of her ear.

“I can’t without you.” Her voice broke.

“You have to.” He took his hands off of her and shook hands with Lewis. Y/n made her way down the stairs to celebrate her team, who was cheering her on behind the barricades. She made eye contact with her mom, rushing into her arms. She had shared all of her insecurities with her mother. She knew everything.

“Mom, I’m scared.” Her voice shook. He’s going to resent me.

“It isn’t right to be scared.” She kissed her daughter's cheek. “He’s hurting too.”

Y/n put on a brave face as she spoke to the media and took photos with her team. “Y/n, I’m guessing these are tears of happiness.” A reporter stopped her on the way to her driver's room. All she could do was shake her head, no clue if she was signaling yes or no. She didn’t know what to think about her predicament. When she got to her driver's room she crumpled to the floor. Her sobs broke as she heaved. The anxiety had built up. Knock Knock. She opened her mouth to speak but a squeak came out. She stood up, rubbing her eyes with her fireproof she had yet to take off. She opened the door, head down. Charles let himself in, immediately pulling y/n into a hug. His body engulfed hers, but she was yet to return the embrace. She pushed the door closed with her hand before falling slack into his arms. He broke quickly, tears running down his face. “I just wanted to come congratulate you privately.” He whispered.

“You didn’t have to.” She couldn’t look him in the eyes. “I know this has to be brutal for you.”

“Ye-”His voice caught as he brought a hand to cover his mouth. “Yeah…it really is. I can’t bring myself to hate you.” He shook his head.

She looked up at him. “But you also can’t bring yourself to look at me.”

“I won’t be able to leave if I look at you.”

“Why is it over like this?” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t have done this to you.” “That’s easy for you to say, you’re not in my place.” Anger.

“You’re right. I won. It was fair. I wanted to talk about this a month ago, but-but you wanted to be oblivious.”

“I can’t have this talk right now.” He clenched his fist.

“So when? Is this it? Eight fucking months. I fucking love you, dude.” Her american etiquette.

“I just need time.”

“Charles, we haven’t been away from each other for more than a day in eight months. This is what you want to do? I want to be there for you.”

“Maybe I don’t want that!” He snapped. “It’s easy for you to take this situation lightly, you won!”

“The only thing I really want is to keep you!” She pleaded.

“Can’t win it all.” He turned his back on her.

It had been two weeks since Charles stopped talking to her and within those two weeks Y/n had only left the house twice. Both times to go get groceries. She laid in bed for most of that time with never ending stomach aches. The celebrations were short-lasted because of Y/n’s never ending guilt. Every wink from a man at the club, every shared glance, she hated, she still felt like she had someone at home waiting for her. She didn’t want to get out of bed, every room brought back memories. She could will herself to look past the memories in her bed, but staring at every other place made her suffer. This is their home, or at least it was. How was there no clues he was going to leave her?

Flashback:

Y/n smiled, looking up at Charles. The look of love in his eyes couldn’t be faked. Those beautiful eyes. “I’m gonna marry you.” the monegasque tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. And she believed it. She fell for his sweet nothings. “And you’re going to be stuck with me.”

“I can’t think of anything better.” She held onto him like he was going to disappear. At the time it was a metaphor, something she’d thought would never happen. The only thing to make this moment better was if he’d say that in a crowd of people.

If she didn’t pull herself up, no one would. She needed to feel the sun, to walk around the city so many memories were made in. She woke up early, turning the shower on and allowing herself time to just relax. She dried her hair and styled it for the first time in what felt like forever. She did her makeup, which felt like relearning a rusty skill. She had kept herself together until the time came where she had to choose an outfit. She grabbed a sweater with a bear on it, heart stopping. It was his. She turned away, tears in her eyes. Then, she pulled on a blue button up and a pair of white linen pants., forcing the memory of the sweater to the back of her mind. She put on a pair of sandals before leaving her house. She and Charles’ relationship had been private to the point of complete public mystery, but the public was confused as to why their recent champion had disappeared. Her car, quite flashy, would cause a scene. It would be the first time she had been in public since the final race. She pulled out of her apartment’s parking lot. The baby blue Mercedes convertible felt safe. She left the top up, shielding herself from the sun and the flashes of the ghost of Charles in the passenger seat. She didn't want to think of him, but she couldn’t let him go. She needed closure. Did he love her? Why did he leave her? They couldn’t live without each other, right? Did she fall harder? Romances were never supposed to affect someone this much. She pulled into the parking lot by the Monaco private beach. She stared out at the sea blankly, letting tears form in her eyes. Images of her and the one, or who she thought was the one, running around like kids. The pressure of being caught dissipated from their minds as Charles had picked her up and thrown her over his shoulder. She was a grown woman, this heartbreak wasn’t supposed to last. Damn it! She was a world champion! She walked down to the beach, which was seemingly empty. She peeled off her shirt and pants, leaving her in a swimsuit and then sat down in the sand. She watched the waves crash on the shore and felt a body sit down next to her. She didn’t dare to turn her head, she had memorized that shoulder on countless sleepless nights. “You’ve finally shown up.” He didn’t glance at her either.

“Finally?”

“I knew you’d come down here when you were ready to talk.”

“What are you talking about?” She shook her head.

“I’ve come here for the past weeks waiting for you to show up. The lonely nights have given me time to reflect and I’m sure they’ve given you time to reflect too.”

“I don’t know what you think I need to reflect on. I knew what I wanted.”

“And what I wanted?”

“If I had known that I wouldn’t be this heartbroken.” She had buried her feet as deep as they could go in the sand.

“Y/n. I wanted it to be racing so bad, but it's you. I want you. The day I got home from that race I just sat waiting for you to chase me down. I should never have left you. I should’ve let you comfort me. I should’ve celebrated with you. Instead, I lost the trophy and I lost you. I shouldn’t have lost both. I didn't realize I didn’t have to lose both.”

“I haven’t even given myself time to realize my insane accomplishment, Charles. I was so scared of you resenting me, that I have grown to resent you.” She was lying.

“What?” His voice caught.

“I just-I’ve spent the last two weeks crying in bed because I’ve considered you over myself. And I’ve realized I’m not a winner or a champion because the only thing on my mind is you.”

“Baby, you are the winner. You won Formula One, but you won me first without having to try. I never want you to think you have to work to keep me with you or I’m something you need to win. I need to work to win you back because you’re greater than me and I was too stubborn to realize that. And I understand if I need to leave now and just-give you up-”

“Why do you think so little of yourself that you feel like you have to give me up?”

“Because you’re the best thing that's ever fucking happened to me.” He looked at her with vulnerability. “You’re the only thing that keeps me grounded. I can get over the loss of the championship, but I won’t get over the loss of you.”

“I’m tired of only being loved in private. I want to feel like someone wants to be seen with me.” She looked at him. “I’ve been wanting to say that for a while. I wanted to kiss you on all of those podiums and those stupid grid dinners. I wanted to run into your garage after your wins, wanted to post all of our pictures, and I even want the suffering of it all. I want the paparazzi, the hate comments, if it means I get you every day.”

“I love you.” He stared at her, that being the only thing he could mutter out. “I love you so much I want to ask you to marry me. I don’t even have a ring, I’m just so in love with you I can’t think of anything more to express that to you. I will literally ask you to marry me up there on that busy sidewalk right now.”

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 fic #formula one #oneshot

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emeraldborealis · 13 hours

Text

Grotesque

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x FEM!reader

TW//CW: DARK FIC, stalking, vibes of somnophilia ish, sexual harassment, nonconsensual touching, threats, mention of cannibalism but no cannibalism, threatened necrophilia, a creep calls reader a whore, murder, graphic depictions of gore, blood, shock induced mania, talk of human taxidermy, no use of y/n. Dead dove do not eat. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION.

Words: 4,641

A/N: Now you may be wondering, Emerald, what the actual hell is this? Well, I wanted to know if I could still write dark fics. And I thought it was time to remind everyone this started as a horror writing blog.

STOP! Have you heeded the warnings on this fic?

People say something special happens when you fall in love, that suddenly everything else doesn't matter. That there's a warmth and gentleness that grows inside of you towards the other person.

But not for Ghost.

Ghost doesn't deal in warm gentleness. Simon did, but Simon is dead and buried in Mexico.

When Ghost saw you he did feel something sudden, an urge to keep everyone else away from you, an urge to protect, an urge to keep and shepherd.

So he did.

From a distance he kept his eye on you, watched you go through your days, completely unsuspecting. Or so he thought.

You knew he was there, you knew from day one. Knowing he was there was more of a comfort than a fear, so when the sound of your front door opening in the middle of the night came to your ears you were more than content to pretend you were still asleep.

Keeping your breathing even and deep, keeping your expression neutral, letting nothing tip him off to the fact you were awake was a skill you learned in your youth, one you needed to survive the house you grew up in.

You were lonely, and you were alright with him taking advantage of that. You wanted him in your life because there was nothing else in your life. A phantom, a ghost willing to watch over you. Something that stayed in the dark, content with silent control.

His footsteps were light coming down the hall, almost silent, if you weren't listening for him you wouldn't have heard him. You wondered how many times he'd come and you hadn't woken up.

Hearing him pause in the hallway you imagined him looking at your photos, committing them all to memory, each one of their locations and if they were perfectly level or not. You knew he'd take in every detail before moving on, he just seemed like the type.

Your door used to make noise when it opened, but a month back it suddenly stopped. A reminder of his silent presence ever lingering, you often wondered if he'd fixed other things for the convenience of his watching, of his sneaking.

Nothing was allowed to jeopardize his stalking, nothing was allowed to tip you off to his presence. Nothing was allowed to give you evidence to stop him.

Listening, you heard him move silently through your room, coming to stand beside your bed, your acting was imperceivable, especially when you weren't looking for it.

You didn't react when the soft feeling of a gloved hand trailed over your face, the glove was rough, but he used it gently, kept his touch featherlight, barely even there.

His hand went from your face down your exposed arm, feeling the lovely skin of your appendage sticking out of the blankets for the sake of regulating your body temperature. The feeling nearly made gooseflesh blossom on your skin, nearly made you shudder. Do sleeping people shudder? Looking into that could be good for future visits from your stalker.

You felt his figure lean over you, breathing you in like a bad habit, when he was satisfied he moved from your side of the bed to the other side. Gently, he laid himself down, stiff as a board laying on his back, staring at the ceiling. You were familiar with this routine by now.

He laid like a corpse, his hands clasped together over his chest. He never did more than this, never touched, never hurt. He just laid beside you for a few hours before leaving just as silently as he came, always making sure to whisper 'sweet dreams' to you before leaving hours before your alarm for work would blare into your room.

Every once and a while you would dare to put your arm over him, sometimes he moved your arm gently off of him, sometimes he let it stay.

Sometimes he watches you sleep, either facing you in bed or sitting in your desk chair.

You wished you understood him, understood why he does the things he does. Wish you understood why he didn't do certain things.

He really was a ghost, your Ghost. A mystery you weren't sure you'd ever figure out.

Rolling onto your back you flopped your arm on him, not holding him, just touching him, testing him. He didn't remove your arm this night, he let it stay, resting right above where his hands were.

You had no clue what he looked like, not really. The few times you dared a peak he was wearing a balaclava with a skull on it. But you'd grown familiar with how he breathed, the rise and fall of his large chest. That was what mattered to you, not his face. Not who he was under the skull.

Feeling him beside you didn't feel wrong, it didn't feel nauseating or dangerous. He had the capability to do harm, but he'd never left any indication that was his intention. He just seemed interested in watching you live your life. Why? You didn't know.

Sometimes you thought about what would happen if he decided to have malicious intent, how far he might go. What he might do. He was a strange man stalking you, and you were letting him.

You were just asking to be an episode on a true crime podcast, solved or unsolved? What would it be? You suspected unsolved, even if you lived.

If he killed you how would he do it? It was interesting to think about. Would he hack you into pieces? String you apart, pull at your nervous system. Dissect you like a frog. Maybe he'd fillet you, hang you up and eat you. Or perhaps he'd take it slower, break your ankles and watch you starve to death helpless on the floor, he did like to watch you.

If he hurt you, if he touched you, he'd want to watch you as he did it. He'd want to see your face as it contorted into pain.

Really at the end of the day he was a man, no different from any other, you were risking just as much being around him as any other man. At least you believed if he witnessed another man trying to attack you he'd intervene, protect his territory.

His belongings.

Did he see himself as your keeper? Or more like a guard dog? What were his intentions here? Why was he this little shadow in your life? It seemed like he was always there, a force that lingered around you.

Your Ghost, something that was becoming a more common name for him in your mind. It seemed fitting.

To say you weren't attached to him would be a lie, he's grown on you, something consistent, something you could make yourself believe was there to be good for you. You were becoming just as infatuated with him as he seemed to be with you.

You were comfortable falling asleep beside him, letting him stay as long as he wanted before leaving. He always locked the door on his way out, after all, he was the only one allowed to creep into your home.

Shifting in bed you got more comfortable, you needed to let yourself fall back asleep if you wanted to be able to function well at work tomorrow. Your Ghost paid no mind to your shifting, he's watched you sleep in actuality and faking it enough to believe he'll never get caught. Not knowing he already has been.

At some point in the night you vaguely feel the bed shift, faintly hear his deep voice whisper something in your ear, and his soft footsteps as he leaves.

In the morning there was no trace of him, nothing tipping you off to the fact he was ever even there, nothing but your memory.

You dreaded your arrival at work, dreaded seeing him.

Brian.

A creep in HR, you would have reported him by now but he was who you would file those reports to. You didn't know who else to file a report to, nothing was serious enough for police intervention.

At least there was no evidence serious enough for police intervention.

Sometimes you hoped your Ghost knew about him, that he was watching your back, though you doubted he watched you at work. Still, the thought of him handling this was not unwelcome. You took a strange comfort in it actually.

Brian was not welcome in your life, he was pushy, touchy, didn't understand boundaries. Something about him gave you the heebie-jeebies, like he was doing all sorts of nefarious things to you in his mind, planning them out, waiting to execute them.

You hated how he watched you, he was doing more than just undressing you with his eyes. Something about the way he looked at you made you feel like he wanted to do more to your skin than just molest it. Do more than possess and sink under your surface.

He looked to covet. Your Ghost looked to encroach and observe.

You liked how your Ghost watched you, like a guard dog willing to be sicked on anyone, to be your defense, to get them off of you, to keep them away from you.

"Come on, doll. When are you going to agree to come over? Let me pour you a drink, I promise I can mix you up something you'll like. Or at least let me drive you home sometime, there's no need to take the train when it's raining. Don't want you catching a cold." Brian cooed to you, walking with you as you made your way to the elevator, he always waited for you.

You'd only step into the elevator with him when it was crowded, otherwise you'd wait, make an excuse and talk to the lady at the front desk until you saw someone you knew would go up to your floor or above.

You refused to be alone with him. Not even for a second.

"I don't drink. And I like the rain." You shot him down, trying to step around him, but his arm caught your waist, stopping you.

"Okay, how about we watch a movie? Play a game?" He gave your waist a squeeze, testing your patience. He was a persistent man who believed he would get what he wanted. You wondered how many times he had. How many girls came before you.

"I'm not interested." Spinning out of his hold you continued walking towards the elevator, a good group of people already waiting.

"Come on, doll. I'll make it worth your time." He trailed after you.

You didn't like the thought that he had access to your address, that he might know where you lived, that all he'd have to do to figure it out is look at your personal records.

"I have a boyfriend. We're serious, he stays the night almost every night. I'm not interested." A small lie, laced with truth, you did have a man who stays the night. Your Ghost. You needed him to know you weren't alone at night.

There was a warning light in your brain that was starting to predict something. Something was coming. How does the quote go? 'By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.'

Something was coming, something you were not sure how to stop. You were in terrible danger, you could feel it in the way his hands defiled you with their touch. Scorching and burning with how atrocious it was.

"That's alright, I just want to spend time with you. Nothing serious." Everyday he grew more bold. A predator closing in on their prey.

You were not going to be a boiled frog, you knew when this started, and you know the temperature is rising to dangerous peaks.

How many girls has he done this to?

How many.

"I don't think my boyfriend would like that, he's protective." Joining the others waiting on the elevator you watched the floor indicator, nearly holding your breath waiting for it to reach ground level.

"Protective? I'm no danger." Leaning in closer he whispered in your ear, careful now that you were surrounded by people. No witnesses. No one else could hear his persistence, it might one day arise suspicion.

"I like to spend time with him when I'm off work. I'm a busy person." You took a breath as the elevator doors opened, stepping inside with everyone else.

"We'll talk more about this later. I just want to get to know the next employee of the month better." His voice was sickeningly charming, his words derailing your train of thought.

"What?" You hadn't heard anything about that, you weren't even super important in your department. He was baiting you with reward. Setting himself up as innocent, someone who was rooting for you. A devastated work friend when he hears of your inevitable disappearance.

He played this game too well.

How many girls came before?

How many times has he gotten away with this?

"I pulled some strings, got you some well earned recognition. We need to celebrate it." His smile was all teeth, unnatural. It was a threat.

You really couldn't tell anyone about this now, not after he's painted himself as the good guy. Just trying to get employee's recognition. You'd sound like an ungrateful asshole. No one would listen.

No one would listen.

"Today, we will celebrate today." It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

Whatever he was planning, whatever he was going to do to you, he was going to do it today. Nothing was going to stop him or get in his way. He was coming for you, going for the throat.

You worked in paranoia and unease, took an early lunch just to avoid any possibility of running into him and completely left the building, went to a very public place for lunch. Didn't even pay attention to what you ordered, not even sure you paid before walking away. You got your food though, so someone paid.

In your panicked state you were struggling to pay any attention to the people around you, only looking for one person in the crowds of people. But he wasn't there. Brian wasn't there. Not that you could see.

Running into someone on your way to the door out of the restaurant you apologize, catching his eyes, they were brown. He was tall, well built. Dirty blonde. He oozed an energy that settled you, like your body knew him. Of course it didn't, you'd never seen this man in your life. There was just something about him.

"No worries, love." You couldn't shake your feeling of deja vu hearing his voice. "Keep your head on straight, no ones goin' to get you."

What an odd thing to say to a stranger.

"Um, thanks." You didn't know what else to say. How else to respond. You stand in front of him a moment more, awkwardly looking at him. There was just something about him you couldn't place.

Checking the time you turned to walk away, you were going over your thirty minute lunch break. You needed to get back to work. Even if you'd rather have your eyes gouged out than have the possibility to run into Brian ever again.

You were jumpy the rest of the work day, hypervigilant to everything around you. It wasn't atypical for Brian to interrupt your work, but he didn't come to bother you today.

You tried to leave work early to avoid him, but he was already waiting for you when you reached the main floor.

"I missed you at lunch today." There was something sinister in his eyes, something that didn't match his tone of forced pleasantry. "No matter. We'll go to that new pub tonight. We can meet there or I will pick you up." It was a threat, a subtle way to make sure you knew he knew where you lived. That he would come for you if you tried to skip out on him.

You'd rather he come to your house. Maybe your faithful watchdog would step in, maybe he'd help you. Maybe he'd stop him. Protect what's his.

If not, you'd rather have whatever's going to happen, happen somewhere you know. Somewhere you've once felt safe. You'd rather die surrounded by your memories than wherever he'd take you, somewhere probably cold and unfeeling.

"Okay." You had nothing else to say, rejection wouldn't work. This wasn't ever going to be a date, this was always going to be an assault.

You were scared. A cornered animal with no way out. Despite your best efforts the water was starting to boil, and you had let it happen.

Getting home didn't calm your nerves, it almost made them worse. Waiting for the arrival of the beast, waiting to be devoured, bones and all.

Is this how the spring lambs feel? Screaming as they go down the line to the slaughter. All just to satisfy a man's hunger.

Is that all women are good for? Satisfying men's hunger, lust, need for violence. Has it always been this way? Women are fucked and murdered. Will they ask what you were wearing? Blame the victim like they always do.

Like they always do.

Maybe this would have eventually happened with your Ghost too, maybe this was just how the world works. Maybe men just have that right.

It was inevitable, unpreventable.

It was late when the knock finally came, the sun long gone. There was nothing, no one who would shine a light on what was about to happen. Only the women with their podcasts will ever wonder what really happened to you. What led to this.

Making eye contact with your front door only death stared back. Wicked wasn't coming. Wicked was here upon you, waiting for you to open the door for it to come in and take you.

The knock came again, like the toll of a bell. Ringing through your ears like a sick mantra. There was no way out of this. There was nothing you could do.

Your feet shuffled towards the door, it was like walking down death row.

The bell tolls for you.

There was a hope inside of you that you'd open the door to your Ghost, that he's come to save you. That you could let in your stalker rather than your murderer.

Grasping your doorknob felt like grabbing red hot metal, scorching and branding your skin, the last thing that would probably ever have your full set of fingerprints.

You wondered if you'd fight, if you'd fight to survive or if you'd let him kill you.

It's a strange feeling, coming face to face with your mortality.

Slowly you twisted the doorknob, letting the devil in.

"I knew you'd let me in." The door was pushed open, pushing you back, removing your last barrier. Bringing you face to face with Brian. "A whore like you was probably just waiting for a guy like me to come along. You wanted this. Didn't you? You want me to ravage you, don't you? So needy."

He was clutching his stomach, he was bleeding. He'd been stabbed.

You couldn't make sense of it. Was it your Ghost? Where was he now? Was he dead? Did he try to stop this?

Brian reached for you, making you stumble back, out of his grasp.

"Don't." Your feet wouldn't take you farther, they wouldn't let you run away. They'd take you right where he couldn't reach you, but they wouldn't let you get away.

Maybe you did want this. Maybe every girl wanted this. Maybe that's why men thought it was okay.

"Come on, don't be like that. I know I kept you waiting but I got held up." He took a step closer, stalking towards you. "You'll look so good with the others."

No.

You didn't want this. You never wanted this. No one ever wanted this.

This wasn't right.

He didn't have the right.

Your mind was flittering, it was hard to make it work, hard to force yourself to stay present. It's always been hard to make it work in situations like this, it hurts less when you just let yourself get hurt. But you didn't want to be hurt anymore.

"Don't touch me." You took another step back, he was blocking the front door, but you could get out the back. Maybe someone will help you, maybe your neighbors will let you in.

"Come on, you knew it'd always come to this. I'm taking you home." You should have done more, should have opened the door with a knife. Should have been ready for him.

"No. You're not." Turning you ran, struggling with the backdoor for a moment in your adrenaline and panic, but you got it open. Slipping out you held down a scream, it wouldn't help you right now to lose your mind screaming. You needed to get away.

You didn't get far before he was on you.

Hands pushed you down to the ground, flipping you on your back, his hands found purchase on your neck, pulling you up before bashing you down, knocking the wind out of you. "A pretty doll like you would be better stuffed, skin perfectly preserved and taxidermied. Of course it would be better if I could have killed you without leaving damage, your bastard friend made sure that couldn't be a possibility. He got his, and you'll get yours."

Hands squeezed at your throat, the pressure in your head overwhelming, your eyes felt like they were going to pop out of your skull. Maybe that would help with the pressure.

"I'll separate your head from your body, that will take care of these marks. I'll figure something out for the rest of the damage. But don't worry, I'll turn you into a work of art. You'll be the prettiest out of them all."

Wrestling with your panicking body he slotted himself between your legs to continue to choke you, pressing uncomfortably into you. A promise of what would come once you stopped moving.

You were going to die. He was going to kill you.

You were going to die.

Your hands desperately reached out, searching. Searching for anything that could help you. This couldn't be it, he couldn't do this. You couldn't die.

Finding a large rock you took hold of it with all your might, bashing it against his head, making him fall limp on top of you, blood from his head soaking into your hair, his face partially on yours.

His open mouth wreaked of Benson & Hedges cigarettes and tooth rot, saliva leaking onto your cheek. Pushing with all your might you shoved him off, adrenaline didn't allow for your hand to relax enough to drop your rock, the veins in your arms rising to the surface.

When his face scrunched and his body twitched you could hear a scream. Was that you? You didn't know anymore. Your body moved without prompt, bashing him again. And again, and again.

You hardly flinched as the blood peppered your skin, drops of crimson spraying your face. You bashed to the symphony of bones cracking, it was the only thing you could hear, the only thing filling your ears, and yet you continued, bashing until the rock in your hands was hard to hold, slippery and covered in red and grey matter.

You bashed until you felt the rock connect with the damp grass through where his face once was, nothing recognizable left of his head, nothing but the skull fragments and brain matter. Everything else was unidentifiable.

Horror and shock filled you at the sight, he wasn't dead was he? He couldn't be. He can't be dead. He wasn't a person who was dead, so he couldn't be dead.

Desperately you felt for a pulse on his neck. You didn't find one. As a last ditch effort you checked the hole of his stab wound in his stomach. It was warm. He was still warm.

He was okay. He was alright. Dead people aren't warm.

But that warmth meant he wasn't done, he wasn't done killing you, he hadn't succeeded yet. The thought made you scream. He wasn't done with you.

He hadn't succeeded yet, and he was supposed to succeed, that was his goal wasn't it? He couldn't fail. You couldn't have stopped him, you weren't capable of that. You were just a girl. You didn't have that right.

You needed more of his warmth, needed it coating you. Needed him to finish his task. His warmth was proof he would.

Searching for more you pressed your fingers inside, warmth squishing around your fingers, it felt good. Familiar almost. A familiar squelch.

It was what you needed. More. More. More.

Wriggling your fingers inside you tested the limits of the wound, it wouldn't stretch farther, you couldn't get to more of his warmth.

But you needed more.

Getting fingers in from both hands you searched for grip through the unending amounts of red liquid around your hands.

Finding it you pulled, tearing it apart, the feeling of ripping flesh a rewarding feeling.

You were getting more, getting to the warmth.

Your digits were digging now, puncturing into his gut, ripping and tearing, pulling out viscera and entrails. Blood perfectly coated the scene, coated you, painting an elegant picture in rouge, and most importantly, warmth.

There was a need, a desire, this couldn't be over yet, he couldn't be done yet. He wasn't done yet. You weren't dead yet, so he wasn't done.

Something pulled tight around your neck, a scarf of the small intestine, wrapping, suffocating. Pulled this tight it almost felt like his hands lovingly around your neck once more, crushing your windpipe. This was that beautiful feeling you were looking for, this was what you needed.

He wasn't done, he hadn't finished yet. You weren't dead yet, but now he could finish, now his slick warmth could finish the job.

Pulling tighter on the two ends of the thin warm viscera that same pressure in your skull was building again, a fuzziness in your vision. You couldn't breathe. It was perfect.

You needed more.

Pulling harder the scarf tightened, it wasn't enough yet, you needed to pull tighter, harder.

With the grotesque sound of tearing the pressure around your neck was gone. Air now filling your lungs in gasps, a burning feeling accompanying each inhale.

Looking down you were still holding the intestine, now in two pieces, the fluids from inside of it making your skin irritated and itchy.

He'd failed. Again.

Hearing a sound from behind you didn't startle you, turning your head your eyes met the hollow eyes of your Ghost, the white of his skull balaclava nearly glowing in the dark. "I broke him." You mumbled, disappointed, presenting the two ends of his guts to him. "You would have finished the job, right? You wouldn't have broke?"

"Of course, love." Crouching beside you he wiped the blood on your check. "I wouldn't break on you like 'e did."

"He wasn't done. He was supposed to kill me. And now he's just a mess. A useless mess. And I'm covered in him." Tears fell from your eyes, your voice whining out of your sore throat.

"Don't cry, you're perfect." Your Ghost pulled the intestine from your hands, letting it fall onto the heap of Brian's unidentifiable carcass. "Come on now, let's get you cleaned up."

The feeling of his arms slipping around your back and under your knees wasn't repulsive like it was when Brian would touch you, your Ghost's touch wasn't nauseating.

Hoisting you up your Ghost carried you away from the scene. "But what about the mess here?"

"I've called people who will come take care of it, I 'ave connections. The police will get involved, 'is victims families deserve to know what 'appened to them. But nothin' bad will happen to you. You'll be just fine. I'll make sure of it. I'm takin' care of you now, love. There's nothin' to worry about." His voice was soothing, the nose of his skull balaclava pressing against your temple. "I've got you now."

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winters-dream · 3 days

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cw: suggestive

Soft silk wrapped around Hero's body, the beautiful fabric sliding gracefully across their skin as they secured the tie around their waist. They had just finished a bath Villain drew for them and Hero hated to admit it, but this was the most relaxed they've felt in months. Maybe even years.

Hero didn't know how they got here. One minute, they were fighting Villain, negotiating to find a compromise to prevent Villain from wreaking havoc on the city. Hero knew better than to compromise with Villain; they were sneaky and sly and always knew exactly what to say to get Hero to bend to their will.

And that's exactly what happened. Somehow Hero went from doing everything in their power to save the city to relaxing in a robe in one of the many rooms of Villain's home. Guilt wracked through them as they pondered over what the Villain could possibly be doing to the city whilst they sat here and did nothing.

The door to their room opened and Villain poked their head through. Their eyes raked over Hero's body and a satisfied grin spread over their lips. They stepped fully inside the room and the weight of their gaze made Hero shiver. Though Hero wanted to believe it was the cold that sent goosebumps along their arms.

“What am I doing here?” Hero was the first to break the silence. “What are you planning?”

Villain sauntered forward, each step causing Hero to take a step back. Their legs hit the baseboard of the bed, causing them to stumble as they ended up sitting on the bed. Villain stopped a few feet away.

“Oh, Hero, you know the deal,” they said. “Your surrender for the safety of the city. I'll cease to destroy this city as long as you remain by my side.”

They reached out, their fingers brushing along the hero's jaw. Hero would be lying if they said they didn't want to lean into the touch.

“You belong to me now.”

Villain smiled their signature sinister smile, one that usually sent a healthy jolt of fear through Hero's body. But Hero saw something else behind that smile. Something . . . softer? Their eyes bore into Hero, challenging them to argue back.

A pink flush colored Hero's cheeks, Villain no doubt could feel the heat radiating off them.

“This is humiliating,” Hero admitted. And Villain shushed them with a finger over their lips.

“Dolls aren't meant to talk, dear,” they chastised with a wag of their finger. Hero wanted to bite that finger off. Their face flushed a deeper red.

“I'm not a doll,” they spoke louder, feigning confidence they didn't have. “And this was not part of the deal. I agreed to surrender. Not to become your . . . pet.”

They cringed at their own choice of words.

“Oh, but you are,” Villain insisted. Both hands came up this time, cupping the hero's face. Their hold was gentle, yet firm, a silent reminder of who was in charge. Who had the power here.

“You are my most prized possession,” they mused. “And I would be a fool to let you go so easily.”

They leaned in. Hero found themself staring at Villain’s lips. Their soft, pink lips, mere inches away from Hero’s; they had fantasized about kissing those lips and becoming familiar with their taste far more often than Hero cared to admit. They wanted to kiss them now, their head dizzy with anticipation.

Villain backed away with a smirk, and something in Hero snapped. Like a spell has been broken, Hero was suddenly pulled back into reality. They blinked at Villain who studied Hero with a knowing smile. They knew all too well the effect they had on the hero. Hero was playing right into their hand.

“You're not going to get away with this,” Hero said as a final attempt at defiance. Villain shook their head with a chuckle. Hero knew they were toast.

“Oh, darling. I already have.”

#my own #writing #fantasy #imagines #oneshot #writers of tumblr #female writers #hero #villain #hero x villain #villain x hero #villain prompt #hero and villain #heroes and villains #writing snippet #villain and hero #corruption #hostage

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greenandsorrow · 2 days

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You're my best friend

✨Eddie in love with his best friend (fem!reader), feelings of inadequacy, fluff, comfort, light angst✨

"Damsel I'm back!!!! It's so excruciating going grocery shopping..."

It's the melodramatic entrance and the small pout at the end of his sentence as he kicks off his stinky shoes that makes you chuckle.

"Glad you survived Edds."

You two used to talk at school and were on good terms. After he failed to graduate twice you became classmates and got so so so so so close. The truth is that he always had a crush on you, but regardless of that your friendship is real and runs deep.

When you were looking for a place to stay after deciding you needed some time away from your family, Eddie told you that you can stay with him -his uncle is barely at home anyway- as long as you do the cooking. Least to say, you accepted the offer.

You listen to him playing his electric guitar, he keeps you company while you study, you have laughed and cried together. He doesn't mind you're not a complete freak like him, but more of a black sheep at school. There have been rumours you're dating and at first you liked being dramatic about it. Unfortunately for him, you're actually dating someone now so the "being dramatic about it" has stopped. Eddie doesn't enjoy your romantic interest taking your attention away from him, but he respects you too much to say anything that could even remotely throw you off.

You are roommates, you have your rules, your movie nights... and he's a gift from God you can't lie. He has learnt and accepted your every little quirk and peculiarity.

Sometimes you make hot chocolate and play Scrabble with Dustin and him. Sometimes you play with his hair while he's stoned. He has significantly cut down on smoking all this shit since you moved in.

Eddie isn't the jealous type, but the pit at his stomach envious type, the delicate disappointment that he can't have you the way others do type.

You'll be his first and last kiss.

Eddie drives you everywhere with his trashy car. He's the best company you could have ever asked for. You love your friend. You wish more people could see him the way you do.

The night is uneventful with you falling asleep on the couch as per usual. In the morning, Eddie wakes you up by ruffling your already messy hair and singing "you are my sunshine" in an ear bleeding frequency.

You're too sleepy to care and just stretch, your lack of a bra not going unnoticed. An awkward giggle is all he lets out, but internally he's so grateful for his hair covering his ears. They're burning too intensely for this time of day.

You get ready for school. It's all routine.

After school, you have your shift at the same place Mrs. Wheeler works in. At least it's quiet.

At this point you feel too bored for your own good, not to mention how your date canceled on you a third time in a row. You return home so done with life. Your hero, Eddie, has prepared the hot water just for you. He welcomes you in by telling you that you're late and have missed the DnD match, but he quickly realizes you're not in the mood.

You're so mentally exhausted, fed up and frustrated with your canceled date that you try to kiss him, wrapping your arms around his neck. Eddie gets a little hurt because the rules say no pitty fucking amongst pals.

When there's no reaction from him you just pull back and shrug. You won't show how embarrassed you actually feel. Not in this already pitiful state. Eddie knows about the canceled dates.

He does try to move on and get some snacks and a movie ready. He is flustered... your breath was so hot on his face... good thing he has time to shake the feeling off while you shower.

"The grime has been washed off!"

"We can talk about it, ...if you want to that is?"

Eddie is genuinely worried about your emotional state and he makes you open up and even break down in his arms. You have been living in denial but your love interest has been distancing themselves from you.

After this crying session, with you holding onto Eddie's warm body and wetting his Hellfire Club shirt with mascara tears, you put on a horror film. He even lets the fact that you're wearing your now ex's hoodie drop. Even though the revelation makes his chest tighten and his breath canal feel like it's been blocked.

You fall asleen on him.

He can feel the outline of your curves and your breasts pressing against him but the way he's holding you is gentle, like he's afraid you'll break into a thousand small, sharp pieces if he squeezes you too hard. You're even snoring softly, completely drained from all the crying.

At least you can't notice the silent tears running down his face. It's unfair. He's choking up in all the unsaid things. He had to see you crying over someone that doesn't even appreciate you while he was there. Exposed to you, ready to give you all he had.

Is he not your best friend? Who is there painting your nails and giving you scalp massages when your period headaches torment you?

Maybe if his mother hadn't abandoned him he would have been able to ask her for advice. He feels like crap now. Are you really that blind? Do you take him for granted to such an extent as you showed him tonight?

Another morning comes, but insecurities gnaw at Eddie. He can't fake a smile when you yawn and open your eyes, realising you're still wrapped around him.

"You look like shit."

Normally he wouldn't mind your choice of words at all, probably finding something even worse to say to you, but in his fragile state... Eddie snaps.

"It's not funny y/n! Do you think it's funny when someone spends the night sleepless?!"

You tilt your head, your mouth forming a straight line.

"I didn't mean to-"

"Oh no, I don't wanna hear it! Are you really as insensitive as you let out?"

"Edds I... I-"

"Shut up! Just shut up! I can't take it anymore! You have me wrapped around your finger y/n, feeding me hope and baked goodies.. but I've never heard a single I love you Eddie, not a single I actually care for you Eddie... Nothing!"

His big eyes are glassy now, tears threatening to spill down his freshly shaven cheeks. It breaks your heart to see him like this.

"B- but I do... I do love you!"

Your voice cracks as you feel your own eyes swelling up with tears.

"Then prove it! Prove it goddamn it! Wear my hoodies, worry over me for a change... Just please... Please-"

All the energy and anger have vanished from his expression and tone. Your gaze has softened as well and he feels like he's melting under it.

You extend your arms, wrapping them tightly around him. Eddie returns the embrace like you're gonna vanish into thin air if he doesn't hold you close enough to be able to feel your heartbeat against his own.

"Have I been so blind?" you ask without breaking the hug.

"Yes you glorious idiot of a girl..."

The pout... the melodrama. He's okay now. You stay like this for a while, missing your classes but at least settling into the conclusion.

You two belong together.

Support a struggling university student! Even a single penny means the world coming from you. Thanks🫶-> CLICK HERE(PayPal link)

my masterlist

I found a flash drive with all my shifting scripts from quite some time ago, so since I'm still in this stupid writer's block I thought it'd be fun to work on some already existing stories. I had to edit this ALOT, but it came out cute ngl✨

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teenidlegirl · 2 days

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꣑୧ ݁.﹒𝓖𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐘𝐄 .ᐟ

ઇ ˚ ݂ ֹ ꒰ miguel o’hara 𝓍 fem!reader ꒱ ! ۟ ׅ ♡

˒ ♡ ៸៸𓂃 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 ˖ ׁ ⁩ .ᐟ you never wanted your love to end but you will never be his again. time to say goodbye to the past, to the memories that will always be kept safe in your broken heart.

˒ ♡ ៸៸𓂃 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 ˖ ׁ ⁩ .ᐟ angst, established relationship, breakup, relationship negligence, no happy ending

( ꯭♡︎ ) ˖ ࣪ . love note ˒˒ heavily based on “goodbye” by marina, one of my favs of hers. i was feeling sad so i wrote this. ngl i did get a bit emotional writing this. also, first time writing pure angst.

in the beginning, it was all perfect. you found the perfect partner to spend your life with. miguel was a miracle, the light you were seeking for. you were his too, as if you were meant for each other. you truly believed that; believed in love. every minute spent with him was precious, savoring it. he treated you so well, like a man worshipping his queen. such a real gentleman. everything he did always took your breath away, making your heart flutter even if it was the smallest thing. no matter what, even if he got home late, he always made time for you.

but, unfortunately, that changed.

as time went on, three years into the relationship, the rose petals began falling apart one by one in a slow fashion. those late nights of him coming home became a repetitive affair. you would stay up just to see him, not caring if you were losing sleep. once he showed up, a simple kiss on the forehead and a muttered “miss you” were his way of acknowledging you before heading to the bathroom to shower then head straight to bed, not even waiting for you.

this tedious thing continued on. by the time you wake up, empty sheets were beside you. everyday has been spent with loneliness. you knew miguel was a hardworking, dedicated man. he worked at alchemax, a time-consuming job. he was considered one of the best employees so it was expected of him to busy most of the time. but you didn’t think it would lead to him coming home so late. part of you felt selfish because you know how much he loved his job and how important it was. however, you can’t help but miss your boyfriend. even if it was for a few minutes just hugging each other would be enough.

but the petals continued to fall.

the late nights were so tedious to the point you gave up and went straight to bed. miguel would come home so damn late, walking in the door at 4:00 in morning. you stopped leaving leftovers for him since the food you made were untouched and left cold. he was so fucking busy that he started canceling dates, especially last minute. at first, you understood due to his job. but he kept doing it to the point that you got so sick of it. your boyfriend was barely around anymore. you felt so lonely. some nights, tears ran down your face as you softly cried to yourself.

that’s when you realized the spark died.

the relationship was falling apart, crashing down like a paper plane. miguel was neglecting you, neglecting the relationship you built together. it seemed like he was dating his job more than his girlfriend. that’s what pissed you off. you couldn’t take it anymore.

as much as you didn’t want your love to end, you didn’t want to live in this place of isolation and negligence. you had to end it all.

━━━━━━━━ ִ ۫ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ۫ ݂ ━━━━━━━━

nervously fiddling with your hands, heart pounding in your chest, you sit at the dining table waiting for miguel to come home. he texted that he got off early, for the first time. that was your green light to tell him it’s over, despite how much you don’t want to. the anxiety flowing through your body makes you a bit nauseous. part of you is afraid of his reaction. but honestly, would he care much since he’s been a neglectful asshole? you just have to wait and see.

the sound of door unlocking makes your heart stop for a moment. with anxious eyes, you watch your boyfriend enter the apartment.

“hola, mi alma.”

the nickname and soft smile on his face hurts you. that’s the first time in two months since he smiled at you, actually happy to see and acknowledge you.

he must’ve notice your anxious expression the way his brows furrowed a bit. “what’s wrong—“

“sit down, miguel.”

tension fills in the room.

with a confused expression, miguel obeys and sits across from you. “¿que pasa, mi amor? did something happen? did someone say something to you? did they hurt you? if they hurt you, i’ll—“

“you hurt me, miguel.”

those mahogany eyes went wide. “wh-what?” he sounds in pure disbelief.

“you’re the who hurt me.” audible pain in your voice, making him flinch. “these past two fucking months have been so shitty. i’ve never felt so miserable.”

miguel was about to say something but you continue on, not giving him the fucking chance.

“i-i feel so fucking alone in this relationship. i’m not even sure if this is a relationship anymore.” you scoff. “because you’ve been neglecting it, neglecting me.”

his stomach drops. oh he fucked up.

“it feels like a one-sided relationship, one-sided love. i’m the only one who’s making an effort, and i’m fucking tired of it, miguel!” you voice raises a bit.

“mi amor, i—“ he chokes. “i-i’m sorry. i didn’t—“

“look,” you cut him off again. “i understand how important your job is. believe me, i tried my best. but you completely forgot there’s more than just your job!” a thin layer of tears begin forming in your eyes. “you come home late and i don’t see you! i wake up and you’re gone! you cancel dates all the time or never show up!” you’re practically shouting.

the tears in your eyes makes his heart crack, making his own swell in tears as well.

“i miss you, miguel! i miss you all the fucking time! i tried to be understanding but i’m fed up!” you cried, a few tears trailing down your flushed cheek.

a single tear drop from his eye falls down his face. his heart breaks at your sad yet truthful words. miguel knew his was way too focused on work. but fuck he didn’t realized how it affected you to the point of making you cry. and he hates it when you cry, especially if it’s him that you made.

“mi amor, i-i’m so sorry. i’m so sorry for making you feel like this. i was so invested with work, i didn’t realized-“

“exactly, you didn’t realized because you were dating your job than your girlfriend.”

that sentence hurts him, because it’s the truth. oh he really fucked up big time.

“i-i…” he struggles to find the right words.

“it’s over, miguel.”

now that shatters his heart completely.

“w-wait, mi amor. please—“ miguel panics, reaching out to you but you back away. his heart breaks more.

you shake your head, tears continuously falling down your cheeks. “it’s over, miguel. i can’t be the only one putting effort into this relationship. i don’t wanna be lonely and ignored anymore.”

now he’s the one crying. “pl-please, mi alma. i’m sorry, i’m so sorry. please don’t leave me. i promise to do better, to be better. please, just give me a chance. i need you, i can’t live without you. just please, mi alma. don’t leave me.”

“you’re the one who left me, miguel.”

miguel though his heart couldn’t break even more. he doesn’t want to lose you. he needs you, you’re his anchor, his sole reason to continue on, his reason to work so hard for. but that’s the exact reason why he’s losing you, was too invested in his work that he completely neglected you, the love of his life. pushed your needs and love away. now he has to suffer the consequences. to suffer the one fear he was deeply afraid of: losing you. especially by his own actions.

“i never wanted our love to end.” you flash him a sad smile, tears blurring your vision.

a night of tears, regret and sorrow. after the whole shitshow, you left. you packed all of your stuff because you knew this was your last time in this apartment. you weren’t going to stay any longer. despite how times miguel begged you not to go, even got down on his knees and cried out endless sorrys, you grabbed your bag and left.

miguel cried the entire night.

━━━━━━━━ ִ ۫ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ۫ ݂ ━━━━━━━━

it’s been eights months since the breakup. the tearful nights dimmed down but heart still broken. the aftermath is worse than the breakup. broken hearts are quick to burn but slow to heal. you’re not sure how long it will take for yours to heal.

you haven’t seen or spoken to miguel since. it’s ideal of course. after the breakup, you deleted his number and anything associated with him. before you did, he messaged you about giving him a chance to talk, to express his regret but you didn’t allow that. you were smarter than that. despite how much you still love him, you can’t let him in again. you can’t go through tears again, it would break you even more.

you truly never wanted your love to end. it was perfect from the start but not everything has a happy ending. that’s how life is. but your love is safe inside your memories, stored away in the back.

in the end, you will never be his again.

he had to say goodbye to the girl that he lost.

as you take one final look at pictures of you and miguel that were taken during your relationship before deleting them, you tell yourself one thing.

goodbye, my friend.

#꒰ ˖ ࣪ . 𐙚 ⊹ ꒱ — 𝓞𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 .ᐟ #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fanfiction #across the spiderverse #oneshot

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beneathashadytree · 3 days

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TOY REVIEW - TEXTING THE LOVE AND DEEPSPACE MEN

Warnings : NSFW obviously, mentions of toys and masturbation, mentions of sex, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : smut (but lowkey funny😭)

Additional notes : My shame has all but dissipated into the wind. Hope you guys like the way this request by @obiwanmcprobie turned out!!

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Masterlist

Taglist: @angry-and-yandere @nxx-jordiepord @honestlyjustablog @dawnbreakersgaze @tartartagliaboo @lucis-noctiana @mushriiin @flurrina @reika-desu @randomidk-123 @tikitsune @cofijelli @roll-of-royces @lemonsupernova @loveyoutoodeep @belovedof @obiwanmcprobie @hawtlineblingz @kalatipunan @eurekazz @bifedebruxa @thescribeswife @mysticangel123 @xenasolos @jvnluvr @dann-acalle @rosariymchapter @rin-sv14 @yololesgo @an-ever-angry-bi @semi-orangeapple @lavanderbliss @myturnwhen @winterlvod @carsonology @zaynesaurora

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jybyls · 2 days

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Dinosaurs

Y/n: Why can't dinosaurs clap ?

Enid: Because their hands are too sh-

Wednesday: Because they're all dead.

#jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega #oneshot #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams incorrect quotes

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yorutsuki · 2 days

Note

You're cooked. Now write boothill.

「 ✦ Metal Tension ✦ 」

↳ Boothill, an optimistic and unrestrained cowboy—a galaxy ranger just so happens to be looking for a specific emanator though runs into you. Unfortunately, tension forms quickly.

[ gender neutral reader; they/them ]

Tags:

──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────

Light clangs and clunks echoed softly around the grounds of Penacony. His hair swaying lightly behind him along with his cape—while his metal body reflected the bright lights of the city.

"The Dreamscape..." Boothill breathed, taking in the sights of the bubbly, lit scenery.

The cowboy was drawn into Penacony in search for a specific emanator roaming about. He heard, from a memokeeper, that she would be found traveling besides an Astral Express crew. Hence, that would be his first step; to track them down.

It wasn't hard to track the group down, considering their popularity throughout the scape. With a few conversations with the residences and locals, he easy found one of the passengers—you.

Currently you were seated in a bar, a glass of paper moon near you while you skimmed through your phone.

Your head perked up as you heard a low rasped chuckle near you.

"You must be the famous {Y/n}?" He spoke, a light sly smile plastering his lips. "May I sit?" He asked, signaling to the seat next to you.

Your expression showed confusion but nonetheless you nodded both to the question and request, signaling a 'go ahead'. "Yep, that's me. Do you need something?" You sighed, popping the 'p' before taking a sip of your drink.

The ranger hummed, "a paper moon? That's a hell of a drink, isn't it?" He raised his brow, ignoring your question.

You nodded, setting down your glass. "A chaotic and busy week." You huffed, recalling the events you endured recently—still feeling some bruising from some of them.

The galaxy cowboy ranger nodded in acknowledgement, setting his arms, crossed on the table. You glanced over to him skeptically. "Well then, I told you my name, I think it's only right you introduce yourself." You spoke, taking another sip.

"Eager huh? Names' Boothill." He smirked, placing his head to one of his palms.

"Well then, Boothill, what are you exactly here for?" You asked once again, sighing—not wanting to beat around the bush. You knew the man wasn't here just for a idle chat.

You heard the cyborg chuckle at your straightforwardness, "Observant. Well, i'm here looking for a emanator who goes by the name, Acheron."

You furrowed your brows, "why?" You questioned.

if you weren't beating around the bush, then it should be an even playing field, no?

Boothill's sly smirk turned into a light smile of menace. "To eliminate her."

You hummed in thought before gulping down the rest of your drink, grabbing your phone and leaving the bar.

Boothill frowned for a moment though his signature smirk appeared once more before he himself stood up, trailing after you.

"I don't think you know what your dealing with." He spoke, shaking his head. You however, were pretty sure you knew the risks of Acheron tagging along. "I-the crew has seen her potential power already, as well as her persona in general. Maybe not at the fullest but it's safe to say we know enough to trust her currently." You answered, recalling the information that the crew and her had exchanged during the time together.

"-though that can't be said for you." You halted with you movement, glancing towards him with furrowed brows. Boothill raised a brow, his eyes glancing over to you as well, his expression plastering the same amused expression.

"Look here darlin', i'm here for one objective. I'm not here to make enemies with the express—that would be meaningless and a waste of both sides' time." He hummed. "So if you could just give me even a slight clue of where the emanator is, i'll be on my way." He shrugged, resting a hand on his hip.

You shook your head lightly, "I can't, I don't know where she is. She pops in and out—here and there at times." You informed, crossing your arms, replicating his sass. "Besides, I believe your the one who hasn't a clue what they're dealing with." You glared at him.

Boothill returned the glare, though before any words could be uttered, a sudden wave of fire split the tension as both of you were quick to dodge it.

Looking to your side, you were faced with a Dreamjolt gorilla and overcooked, along with some other low enemies.

You grit your teeth while the ranger's smirk only grew wider at the new challenge. Though before he could even process, you were already taking action—taking swift and agile turns, aiming and destroying the mechanics' weak spots to which they crumbled into ash upon.

Within under a minute, the enemies were nothing but ash in the wind.

You had returned back to your spot like nothing happened, only a few breathes here and there. You looked towards the man, a brow raised as you felt a pair of eyes watching your every move. "You need something?"

The galaxy ranger looked away, almost in thought. "Those moves...they're familiar.." He stated, looking to the ground before glancing back at you. "Where did you learn them?"

Your eyes turned soft only for a second as you grinned slightly. "The emanator. She was kind enough to lend me some tips." You smirked but quickly replaced it was a neutral face.

Boothill's gaze went surprised only for a split second before turning into a sly cocky look. "Well, would ya look at that. Y'know Acheron doesn't just teach anyone her knowledge." He smirked before leaning near your ear. "You must be a pretty special thing then." He laughed before retreating back.

Your words got caught in your throat. You knew it was a teasing comment but thats what stunt you.

You mumbled something inaudible before your phone pinged. "Oh? Is that the rest of your crew?" He chuckled, peeking over towards your screen. You glanced towards him and back, nodding.

A few moments passed before your phone vanished into your inventory, specks of dust in place of it's disappearance. With a huff, you look towards the metal man, "well, i'm guessing we'll be seeing each other around, unfortunately." You shook your head much to your dismay.

Boothill smirked, "Of coarse. I look forward to our next run in—and how knows?" He shrugged, leaning forward, "maybe you can teach me some of those tricks, eh?"

You give a grimaced smile, "keep dreaming. This is the dreamscape after all." With that you waved a flimsy 'cya' before leaving.

Though if you stayed just a bit longer, you would've seen the cowboy ranger's cheeks tinted with a pink hue as he let out a airy laugh. "till we cross paths again."

A/N: I barely know about Boothill than whats already present. Hence, I apologize if its short and out of character TxT.

(I have no clue for a title)

[Random] While writing this, I read the most well executed, tear making, well written, heart warming, angsty af fanfic of a Michealangelo x reader (TMNT), I highly reccomend checking it out if you like TMNT-specifically mikey and angst :)

"Hearts Over Head (Michealangelo x Reader Fanfiction)" - Sophfandoms53

#x reader #scenerios #oneshot #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #hsr x reader #hsr #honkai star rail #boothill #boothill x reader #boothill honkai star rail #boothill x y/n #headcannons

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danisbrainrot · 3 days

Text

tell your boyfriend

natalie scatorccio x reader

warnings: cheating (sorry not sorry, travis), reader being a shitty person, angst

ever since I found out this song was actually about a woman, I don't know why, but I immediately thought of nat. I can't explain it LMFAO.

it had been weeks since the plane crashed, and the team was condemned to suffering in the wilderness. it was lucky lottie had found the cabin in the first place, but as you swung the axe high in the air, before bringing it down with a resounding crack, you started to wonder if life would've been better if you died in the crash.

you were starving, delirious and weak. there was no sign of a rescue team—who knows how long you'd have to spend out here. watching natalie and travis walking back, hand in hand, you felt yourself growl quietly to yourself. it wasn't fair that travis, who'd never talked to nat before the crash was dating her, but you—who'd loved her for years—were forced to watch from arms length. the sight wasn't made any better when you noticed the absence of meat.

everyone was teasing the two of them, causing you to storm off into the forest. you couldn't help but find everything unfair. falling for a girl who liked a boy—knowing if you were a boy, she'd love you.

kicking over a pile of leaves, you took out your anger on the forest. you hadn't even noticed natalie, until you almost pegged a rock at her (you'd meant to get the log). "oh my god, I'm sorry nat," you exclaimed, running towards her to see if she was okay.

she snorts, moving closer to you. "feeling hangry?" she teased, taking a seat on the log you were aiming at previously. you sarcastically laugh in response, taking a seat next to her.

"joke all you want, if you spent less time fucking travis and more time looking for animals, I wouldn't be destroying the forest," you snap, feeling your stomach begin growling. nat's eyebrow raised teasingly, eyes pointed at your tummy. it's timing was uncanny.

"we're not fucking," natalie replied, making your heart race in excitement. "I mean, I'd like to. . . but he can't get it up."

knowing this was your chance, you took advantage of this information. "maybe he's gay?" you reply, trying to sound as earnest as you can. you nudge her side, "no straight man could resist you," you wink at her teasingly, receiving a soft shove to your shoulder.

"I've always trusted your gaydar. . . but I don't think this is it," she mumbles in response, leaning forward and placing her chin in her hands.

there was a beat of silence, as you desperately try to come up with a plausible explanation to break them up. "you could always ask coach, I'm sure he'd know all about gays," you joke.

nat turned her head slightly to face you, "you're right. maybe I should—" your heart sank, realising that she was seriously thinking about it.

"have you thought that maybe he's interested in someone else? and you're just a distraction," you blurted out, wishing you could take it back immediately.

nat scoffed, standing up, "yeah, thanks. that makes me feel fucking fantastic," she snapped, stomping away.

"nat! I'm sorry!" you called out, but she ignored you.

«—(♥)—»

later that night, you found yourself in the storage room, with your stomach growling. you knew that mari was hiding some berries in here and you were so hungry that you no longer cared about stealing.

the sound of creaking behind you made you jump in fright, whipping around to let out some excuse when you realised it was just natalie. "oh, I thought you were mari," you mumble, turning back to continue your quest.

"looking for her secret stash?" she asked, you tried to work out if her tone was curious or teasing. "it's behind the box there."

when she pointed in the direction, you side eyed her, wondering how he knew where it was. glad that she'd shown you, you decided not to ask. you pulled out a large white bucket and hungrily opened the lid, only to be disappointed at the contents. "she's letting them ferment?"

you turn to face natalie, who shrugs, "it's not that bad. it's pretty strong though, just made purely out of berries, makes you get drunk quicker," she explains; you snort at her, shaking your head.

"you'd have a lot of experience with being drunk," you snipe.

"hilarious, you know you're so funny, you should think about joining snl," she replied sarcastically, crossing her arms over her chest.

you sighed, putting your head in your hands. "I'm so hungry, nat. I can't keep living like this," you whisper, on the verge of tears.

natalie sits down next to you, placing a hand on your thigh. "it'll be okay, I promise. travis and I are heading to a new place tomorrow, we'll find deer there, I'm sure," she soothes. you lay your head on her shoulder, playing with her hand on your thigh.

"a new place to hunt? or a new place to fuck?" you snapped.

narrowing her eyes at you, she scoffed and got up, "you know, I liked that you weren't like the others, that you never slutshamed me. . . I guess you're just like the rest of them," she replied, leaving you alone.

you knew it was stupid to take your unrequited feelings out on her, especially because she didn't owe you romantic love. however, it killed you watching her fall in love with travis—and the hunger eating you away wasn't making you a nicer person either.

tentatively scooping some of the berry juice in your hand, sipping it, when you heard mari approaching. in a panic, you'd never put something away so quickly.

«—(♥)—»

natalie trudged through the forest with travis in defeat; the gun slung over her shoulder serving as a reminder of her duty as hunter—a duty she was failing. their eyes were still peeled for any deer, hopeful for any last minute catches. however, it seemed like all the animals in the forest knew about their plans.

groaning, nat put her head in her hands and sat on the log. "this is fucking stupid," she grumbles, ignoring travis as he took a seat next to her.

"maybe we should stay put here, just for a little while," he suggests, his thigh brushing against hers. nat rested her chin against her knees and offered him a weak smile.

neither of them noticed you, hiding in the bushes, having given up scavenging for berries. they'd been gone for three hours, leaving everyone else in the cabin to search for food—and for what? it seemed no one would be eating anything. . . meat or fruit. the disappointing view of just the two of them made your stomach growl, reminding you of how long you've gone without eating something substantial.

stepping on a twig accidentally, you winced as both their heads snap in your direction. "you're following us now? disappointed to see we aren't having sex?" natalie sniped, getting up and walking towards you.

showing off your basket, you know that she wouldn't believe you even if it's true. "just hunting for berries, figured they were further out than usual," you mumble, taking a step back the closer she got.

it wasn't until you were both face to face, your chest heaving and trying to look tough, that natalie smirked. "I get it, you're hungry, but you don't have to follow us," she teased.

you rolled your eyes, "travis, can you give us a moment?" you asked, your heart racing as you come to terms with what you're about to do.

travis scoffs, looking at nat for confirmation, who only gestured for him to return to the cabin. in shock, he sent her an odd look, before standing up, and walking away silently.

natalie turned to face you again, "what did you want to talk about?"

"i wanted to apologise. you're right, I shouldn't be slutshaming you because I'm hungry. . ." you pause, wondering whether or not you should continue. desperate to tell her about your feelings, you could feel your heartbeat raising impossibly fast. "it's actually so stupid—the real reason I was mad at you."

natalie raised her eyebrows teasingly, placing her hands on her waist and smirking at you. "let me guess, the real reason is that you like me?" you stare at her stunned, "please, you don't think I know? I'm not Jackie," she laughs. you feel a blush coming across your cheeks.

sliding her thumb through your jean loops, nat pulled you closer to her, until your chest was pressed against hers. "how'd you find out?" you whisper, looking up at her in awe.

"because I may or may not feel the same about you," she mumbles, her lips inches from yours.

"what about travis?" you ask; nat shrugs in response, finally pressing her lips against yours. initially, you freeze, not kissing her back, until she gripped your waist firmly, holding you in place, encouraging you to kiss her back passionately.

wrapping your hands around her neck, natalie pulls away for a second, "I should probably tell my boyfriend," she whispers. you raise your eyebrows in shock.

"tell him what? that I'm your girlfriend now?" you teased, eliciting laughter from the blonde. she nodded, before placing her fingers under your chin and pulling you in for another kiss.

#natalie scatorccio #natalie x reader #wlw #yellowjackets #fanfic #fluff #travis martinez #oneshot #inspired by #tell ur girlfriend #yellowjackets showtime #travis yellowjackets #tw: cheating #natalie scatorccio x reader

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ghvst-ing · 3 days

Text

It’s not real.

Paring; Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Warnings; Nightmares. Blood. Mentions of torture. Death. 09’ Ghost’s backstory.

The scene Simon is met with was not one he hadn’t witnessed a milion times before, yet it didn’t stop the way his blood ran cold.

It’s grotesque, chilling, revolting; something that could make even grown men hurl. Something he, personally, had grown desensitized from due to his job, the things he’d seen, the things he’d done.

He’s frozen in place as only a spectator, finding himself within the walls of his childhood home, the place he despised, a place he wished to never return to.

Decorated for the holidays, the Christmas spirit floated throughout the apartment, along with the muted smell of freshly baked, gingerbread cookies. Yet he couldn’t focus on the warmth he should’ve been able to, but what was presented before him.

A corny film played from the tv, tucked in the corner of the living room beside a messily decorated Christmas tree, but it’s drowned out by the ringing in Simon’s ears — his eyes trained on the four corpses spread across the carpeted floor, unable to look away from the sight.

It’s almost an unfortunate coincidence for him to have forcefully kicked out his bastard of a father, the only one deserving of such fate, a few months prior.

His mother. His brother, Tommy. Beth, and little Joseph. Dead, a bullet lodged deep in each of their skulls, staining the light carpet underneath a crimson red. His young nephew, somewhat cradled within his mother’s arms, held in a loose embrace, the poor boy not excluded from the same demise his parents suffered.

Even years after he returned to witness this event, it still haunted him; stayed buried in the back of his mind waiting for the right time to come forth, reminded him of all he endured to that point and how he couldn’t have a moment of peace in his god awful life.

Weirdly enough, for the first time he could remember, the image shifted.

From a lively — yet gory scenery, it changed into one resembling a holding cell. A cell he could vividly recall from ages ago and carried, both mental and physical scars from.

But it wasn’t the same to his luck, yet his guard remained high, head turning to examine the musty room.

It was dark, damp, an old-ish wooden table pushed up against the wall next to the heavy, steel door, shut close in order to prevent the person inside from potentially escaping.

A multum of weapons topped the surface, choices upon choices for a tool of torture, dried blood sullying the shiny metal. It all hit close to home. Uncomfortably familiar, painfully so.

But his heart stopped when his eyes landed on a sight he never hoped to see, fingers unconsciously flexing as a lump formed in his throat and his body itched to rush over.

A chair was placed, dead-center of the room. Rough ropes bound someone to it — you, head hung low, wounds and bruises marrying any skin visible on your person, making his breath hitch in his throat.

He was finally released from the mental bounds that held him in place, feet moving in long strides to get to you. Simon could feel his pulse in his ears, his heart pounding against his ribcage almost painfully.

“Love..” He muttered, voice barely audible as the words slipped from his lips, knees bending to crouch before you. “Fuck,” Trembling fingers curled softly under your chin as his eyes surveyed the damaged done to your face.

A split lip, a bloody nose, and a black eye, along with other, smaller cuts littering your face. But it wasn’t what made him fret. It was the coldness of your skin, cool to the touch.

Your name fell from his mouth in a frantic whisper. “No, no..” Simon’s hand slowly fell from your chin to your jugular, the rough pads of his fingertips hesitantly pressing against your pulse point. Only to find none, confirming his fears.

It’s then that he finally awoke in a cold sweat from the terrors his mind conjured up. He sprung up, breaths uneven and ragged as he took notice of his surroundings, brought back to reality.

His eyes grew used to the darkness within the bedroom, the gentle glow of the moon seeping in through the gaps of the curtains. The comfortingly familiar vicinity eased his raging nerves, clammy hands curling in the sheets.

It reminds him that he is safe, that what he just experienced was nothing but a cruel nightmare as his gaze falls to your sleeping figure beside him.

You look peaceful, he thinks.

Simon watches as your chest rises and falls with each gentle breath, eyelids shut and lips ever so slightly parted. Your hair was ruffled, spread across the pillow. But even so, you never looked prettier to him.

You’re safe.

The image he saw within his dream flashed before him; you, held captive, most likely due to the connections you held with him, tortured for information you couldn’t possibly have. It frightened him. For it wasn’t impossible for the situation he was faced with moments before to happen.

It was just a nightmare, he reminded himself.

His tense shoulders sagged in relief, a long sigh pushing past his tight-lipped frown. Under the sheets, he shifts his body and turns onto his side, the side of his face meeting the plush pillow as a burly arm slowly curls over you, bringing you close to his chest.

A chaste kiss is pressed to your forehead, Simon’s eyes briefly falling closed as he finally relaxed. His brain is swarmed by thoughts, yet one took precedence as his leg lightly nudged yours in search of the warmth your touch provided.

It wasn’t real.

do i like this? not exactly, but let’s roll.

#ghost x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #ghost #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #x reader #cod x reader #cod #cod fanfic #oneshot #writing #cod mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #gn reader

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hearts4golbach · 2 days

Note

HI POOKS LOVE YOUR WORK, maybe a Johnnie fic where he shows fem!reader how to play guitar, and lead to some smut (if you're comfortable with it ofc) THANKS HAVE A GOOD DAY/NIGHT

The Fretting Hand.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

a/n: I read this request sooo wrong, but it's still relatively the same idea. I'm so sorry 😭

warnings: smut, fingering, bickering, enemies to lovers kinda, (only y/n receiving)

Jake: "They say you should never have wings on the first date with a girl."

Johnnie: "That's true because when you're gonna go finger -"

the strumming of Johnnies' guitar was incessant. jakes snores weren't favorable conditions either. but you let him have a pass cause he was actually a decent person. johnnie, on the other hand, was far from even being your friend.

you put on a fake smile and maintained a friendship on camera, but off camera, it was constant bickering. you two couldn't stand each other. it was funny. Your annoyance with each other had no motive behind it. to be fair, it was everything about him. his face made you angry just to look at. of course, you thought he was the finest man you had ever seen, but he still irritated the hell out of you.

scrolling on the internet wasn't helping. most nights, you could block out all of the excess noise just fine. tonight was way different. you tossed and turned, trying to at least find a more comfortable angle. you never usually stayed up past 11, which was the time, because of your busy schedule. you groaned quietly into your pillow before getting up out of your bed.

you wandered into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water, downing it before reusing the bottle and filling it up in the sink.

even downstairs, you could still hear johnnie screwing around on his guitar. you'd admit, johnnie was a talented guy, but seriously? at 11 pm? you couldn't stand it.

you stomped up the stairs into his room. you knocked twice before throwing open the door. "do you ever know when to shut the fuck up? I haven't been able to sleep at all." you scolded, even though you knew your restlessness wasn't his fault.

your eyes wandered down to his hand that was still placed on the fret board. his middle and ring fingers were placed in a certain chord formation, which just so happened to flaunt the veins and tattoos on his hand.

"My bad." johnnie responded. he noticed your eyes wandering before glancing down at his hand himself. "What?"

"Nothing, just -" you struggled to find the words, your mind corrupted with other thoughts. you felt your face begin to heat up. "Just be quiet."

his lip twitched into a smirk. he placed his guitar down back onto the stand. "Are you sure that's all you came in here for?"

you hesitated before nodding. the cat has definitely got your tongue now. you wanted to turn to leave, but you were frozen. the low light of his lamp mixed with the full moon in the sky was playing tricks on your mind. there was no way you'd actually fuc-

"y/n?" johnnie snapped his fingers. God, his fingers.

"Yeah, sorry." You took a step back before glancing towards the door.

his eyebrows furrowed together. "You've never apologized to me before." he chuckled, "seriously, what's up?" heat had slowly been growing between your legs. johnnie stood up and walked over to you. you were face to face now, and it was almost guaranteed he could see your beet red face. "well? if you've got another problem, fucking spit it out."

you realized quickly this was about to go in a completely different direction. "make me."

"yeah? i bet you'd like that," his palm met your cheek, pulling your plump bottom lip down with his thumb. he took a step forward as you stumbled back, your back hitting the wall.

"and i bet you would even more." and with that, he smashed his lips against yours.

you absolutely hated how soft his lips were. the kiss was rough and needy, and your teeth clashed against his occasionally. your hands clawed at his shoulders, digging your fingers into him. he quietly moaned against your lips, the feeling of pain sending adrenaline throughout his veins. he needed you, and you needed him just the same.

he wrapped his hands around your thighs and lifted you up. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pressing your needy cunt into his growing boner. Johnnies hands trailed up your thighs and gripped your ass, digging his fingers in so hard you figured there'd be bruises in the morning.

"God, always so fucking needy." he spat. you grabbed his chain and pulled him in again, crashing your lips onto his.

he laid you back on the bed, crawling in between your legs and hovering over you. "I bet you've wanted to see me like this for so long." you teased, trying to get a rise out of him.

he rolled his eyes, flipping his messy hair out of the way. "I could say the same for you. don't act like I can't hear those pretty moans late at night. sometimes I even hear my name. I'm not deaf, fucking slut."

you were gagged, not knowing a rebuttal to that comment. instead, you kissed him again.

his hands trailed down your body, playing with the waist band of your pajama pants. he quickly pulled them off, tossing them on the floor next to the bed.

your purple lace panties hugged your hips and ass perfectly, making him shudder at the sight. his hand moved to your clothed clit. he applied pressure, making you wince as you bucked your hips up into his hand.

"so fucking soaked. shit," he whispered, pulling your underwear down and tossing them on top of your pajama pants.

his hand collected your slick as he rubbed his fingers through your folds gently. you quietly moaned under his touch.

"you wanna tell me now? only good girls get what they want." he whispered in your ear, nipping at your neck.

"please, fuck," you pleaded, bucking up onto his hand again. "your fingers,"

he dipped his middle finger inside of you, just barely thrusting inside. "what about them?"

your hand slapped over your mouth as you moaned at the sudden feeling inside of you. "The way you play the guitar. God, it's so fucking h-hot." you said breathlessly, "please, johnnie."

he slipped his ring finger inside of you, quickening the pace. "What makes you even think you deserve this, huh?" Both his fingers were all the way inside of you.

"shit, please. don't be a bitch." you mustered the strength to insult him back. it turned Johnnie on more than you could even imagine.

"I'm not the one who treats you like a dog, am i?" he sped up his pace, spreading your legs wider. "maybe I can fuck some common sense into you."

your back arched, "shit, then maybe don't act like one."

"you're so fucking insufferable. maybe this will bring you back to reality." he curled his fingers as your walls squeezed him. "you know what I think? I think you act that way because of how badly you want me, you just don't wanna admit it."

you let out a low moan, trying to catch your breath. "in your wildest dreams."

"and if you didn't, we wouldn't be here right now. and you wouldn't be squeezing my fingers like this." his other thumb moved to your sensitive nub, rubbing it to match the pace of his fingers. "why don't you just admit it?"

"fuck you." you spat between moans.

"I'm sure you would." he sped up his pace even more, his fingers thrusting in and out of you at a relentless pace. "prove to me you deserve to cum, or you're going back to your fucking room. if I even fucking hear you finishing, it won't be good."

he pulled his fingers out of you, leaving you on the edge. you wiped sweat off your forehead as you whimpered. "fucking fuck. okay fine. you're right. God, I've wanted you for so fucking long." you replied breathlessly. "please, johnnie. I'll be good from now on. just let me-"

his fingers entered your tight pussy again, making you moan loudly. his thrusts were relentless, curling his fingers at the perfect spot inside of you. you writhed under his touch, endless strings of curses and moans came out of your mouth.

"I've wanted you since I first saw you." he admitted, "but you were such a fucking bitch. it turned me on, though. I'm not really complaining." he added pressure to your clit on top of everything else.

he kissed your inner thighs as you felt the knot in your stomach begin to tighten. "johnnie, I'm gonna cum-"

"let go, baby." he wet noises of his fingers inside of you filled the room, along with your moans.

your climax hit you like a truck. your legs quaked as Johnnie helped you ride out your high. you went limp on his bed, breathing heavily. he laid next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist.

whenever you had recovered, you rolled over and climbed on top of him. "your turn."

#fanfiction #fanfic #johnnie guilbert #jake and johnnie #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert x you #jake webber #johnnie and jake #johnnie guilbert smut #smut #oneshot #hearts4golbach

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