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#..oh forget it immediately taken away
hee-pster · 2 months
Note
Hyung line's reaction when you flash them out of the blue while having an argument? (Idk if you've ever done this, sorry if you did haha)
I’ve written a fic about this scenario before, here it is if you wanna read it :3 but writing the hyung line reaction was even more fun so, thank you for your request and lmk if there’s more you’d like to read from me 💜
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heeseung would be at a loss of words, he’d literally forget how to speak as soon as he turns your way and meets with the sight of your bare tits waving at him. every single thought in his mind would vanish and turn into a tiny dust in the air as he takes in the gorgeous view of you without your bra, suddenly he wouldn’t be able to remember what the topic of your argument was nor the importance of it. nothing would matter to him besides you from that point on as he gently pulls you onto his lap, wearing a shameless, and cruelly attractive smirk on his face before he goes “so where was I? oh fuck, can’t remember, wanna make out instead?” 
jay would be defeated at the very moment he locks his eyes with your pretty boobs which are pretty naked and glowing before his sight — it can’t be helped, he’s just weak for them. though he wouldn’t just give in to you right away, nope, there’d be a five minutes of silence as he fights with his pride, knowing damn well that it’s just a waste of time because he’s already drooling thinking about stuffing his mouth full with your tits. “are you trying to bribe me?” he would ask, finally breaking his silence as he approaches you with visibly enthusiastic steps, “because it’s working, you win, now can I please suck your boobs?”  
jake would be very tempted to just quit and wave the white flag but he can’t, because as we all know, he hates losing. it would literally take everything in him to not throw you onto the nearest surface and strip the rest of your clothes off because needless to say you look gorgeous with your naked boobs, and he is easily very horny for you. however it’s not enough, and he refuses to go down without a challenge. thus, he decides to hit you with your own weapon as he takes his shirt off. “nice try babe, you almost got me, too bad it wasn’t enough,” he would say, smugly, as he continues with his pants, “so what’s it gonna be? are you gonna stay there and lose, or are you gonna get rid of them pants and come close, hm?”
sunghoon would be so turned on that he’d immediately break out of character — he’s no longer upset with you, and has no point to prove. you’re the one with glorious looking tits and he’s not, which is why you’re always right, he gets it — and if anything, he feels shameful that he forgot about it, then chose to argue with you as if he knew any better. “point taken, you’re gorgeous and always right, I’ll shut the fuck up now,” so he’d say, lifting you up bridal style and carrying you to your bedroom, with a grin a little too big on his handsome face for someone who just lost a fight, “but let me apologize first, and show you how sorry I am, yeah?”
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rottenblur · 3 months
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Post workout pump|A.ANDERSON
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Abby x fem reader 2.3k
Summary: Your gym rat Tinder date isn’t one to not kiss on the first date, a coffee date is much more interesting with her.
WARNINGS: public shit, public fingering??? Dirty talk, Abby being bold as hell, head!! Fingering, quick mention of that liquor. Fucking on the first date.
Abby’s Tinder profile was simple, a couple of gym rat pictures, and a couple cute candid ones someone had taken of her with a background of beautiful scenery. The one that made you swipe on her was a picture of her smiling in the forest, normally you wouldn’t go for “outdoorsy” people, you wanted someone you could comfortably rot away with.
It was her fucking smile. The way that her hair practically glowed in the sunlight peaking through the trees, how her freckles complimented every feature on her face. It wasn’t just her looks though, you weren’t that shallow. Her bio was simple, simple in a way it didn’t seem like she was faking it for people to like her.
“Will fight for you.” And you believed it with every inch of your body, she looked like fought off bears for a living. She could break you in half, part of you wanted her to.
Your conversation on the app was short, you gave her your number pretty fast, I mean she asked for it.
You got a text from a random number quickly after you gave it to her.
(7xx) 8xx-6xxx: Hey beautiful.
You replied quickly.
You: Hey.. this abby?
The typing bubbles popped up immediately, she responded fast and used punctuation, which was rare. In your experience, and probably rare to everyone on dating apps. To be honest, this was your first time on a dating app, you had too much on your plate to even think about dating since high school.
Abby: [IMAGE ATTACHED]
Abby: Sure is.
The picture was a live photo in a gym mirror, she had dumbbells resting by her feet, her body covered in a tank top and loose basketball shorts. Her muscles were huge, you didn’t think someone could be that strong, the sweat making them shiny didn’t help how hard you were staring right now.
You: oh my god…
That’s all you can get out, you have no thoughts.
You: i’m blushing
You throw your phone, you’ve only been talking to her for maybe an hour and yet she already has you wrapped around her finger.
The text bubbles pop up, she’s typing.
Abby: Aw, such a sweet girl, already blushing for me.
If you weren’t blushing before, you were now. You couldn’t stand another minute not being with her.
You: are you busy today? I need to see you
Text bubbles pop up, then disappear, come back then disappear again. Read, for ten minutes. Were you moving too fast? You put your phone down, tidying up your room to distract yourself from the stress. You get into the shower, your phone on the sink counter for music. You wash your hair when your phone starts ringing, fuck.
You grab the towel hanging up, drying off your hands and step out of the shower to pick up your phone, it’s her. You press the green accept button and put the phone up to your ear, pushing your wet hair out of the way.
“Hey.” She says. Her voice, oh my fuck, her voice. It was gentle but so heavy with intent, she sounded like she only spoke if she meant it.
“Hi.” You respond back, wrapping the towel around your body and stepping out of the bathroom to make sure she heard you well.
“God, you sound adorable. I’m not busy, just at the gym right now but I’m free in thirty minutes if you wanna go for coffee.” She says, you can hear the dumb bells banging in the back now.
Your mouth falls open, she really wants to see you? A date? Today? You forget to speak.
“Yeah, yeah please. Where to?” You respond back.
You hear her laugh slightly, then take a breath. “I’ll text you the address beautiful, you’ll like it I know you will.” God people making decisions for you was suddenly so hot.
You agree and giggle, uncontrollably. “Bye bye.”
“See ya.” She says then hangs up. Fuck you were nervous.
You get a text from her, the address was a small locally owned coffee shop just down the street from you, maybe she lived close. Surprisingly you had never been there before, maybe you could have met her sooner if you stepped out of your comfort zone more often, you would have met her sooner.
Twenty minutes had passed, you got back into the shower, finishing it and getting ready. Drying your hair and throwing on a cute fitting outfit, something easy, or just easy access, hey you weren’t against doing stuff on the first date, especially not with her.
You walk to the coffee shop, texting her when you arrive at the front doors, her assuring you she was already there. She was early, you liked that.
You walk inside and that's when you see her. She was in the back, in a booth manspreading under dimly lit lights. You walk over towards her, her hands set on the table, fiddling with a stir stick. She looks up and sees you, her blue eyes light up. She stands up, she towers over you. You look up at her, her freckles are even cuter in person.
“Hey beautiful, you look you know..beautiful.” She says looking you up and down. You smile at her muttering a greeting back. You were almost shaking, she was perfect, everything you could have ever wanted.
“You want a drink? I’ll order, just finished mine.” She says, placing a hand on your upper arm, it engulfed your arm in full. You nod and tell her your order. She smiles at you and walks off to order, you sit down scooting to the inside. A one-sided booth, leaving no choice but to sit right next to her, her boldness was attractive.
She comes back, placing your drink on the table in front of you, scooting herself right next to you placing hers next to yours. You pick up your drink taking a sip, as she lays her arm on the booth behind your back spreading her legs, getting comfortable. “Was that picture from today?” You refer to the picture she sent you earlier. She nods turning her head to look at you.
Her strawberry blond hair slightly damp presumably from a shower, her blue t-shirt clung to her arms, her jeans tight to her legs. God.
“You like what you see?” She says tilting her head at you, looking you up and down in return. You nod shyly looking away as you fiddle with the end of your skirt. She catches that, flicking your hands away, replacing them with hers. “You wear this for me? I like it, looks really good on you sweetheart.”
God the pet name, her hands on you, on your clothes. Her compliments, she has you melting. “I wore it for you Abby.” You say looking at her, she looks up from your legs to your eyes. She smiles, rubbing your cheeks, keeping one hand on your thigh. “God you’re adorable, I got you blushing already.” She takes her hand off your cheek and takes a sip of her drink.
“What made you want to talk to me?” She says as she rubs her thumb on your engulfed thigh. You’re fighting to not squeeze your thighs together. You look at her lips, and her eyes then respond. “You’re pretty, I mean you’re hot, you’re intimidating it’s attractive.” You say. She nods, humming a response to you.
“Well, I thought about how fucking cute you’d look with my head between your thighs.” She said it so innocently, her hand moving up under your skirt, you couldn’t handle it your trap her hand by squeezing your thighs together.
She clicks her tongue at you tapping your thigh with her free thumb for you to open your legs. You submit to her order, opening your legs for her. Her finger grazes your clothed clit, your panties wet from her teasing. You look at her and finally respond. “I’d like that, alot.” Your cheeks were burning up, your whole body was burning up with need.
She leans in closer to you, whispering into your ear. “You’re so perfect, so fucking ready for me, so beautiful.” A whine falls out of your mouth, uncontrollably. Her fingers continue dancing from your clit to your slit, teasing you no, torturing you.
You place one elbow on the table, the other gripping Abby’s thigh, you were dripping onto your skirt it was unbearable. You finally mutter out exactly what you need to say.
“I need you Abby, I need you.” You say. She pulls her hand away, awwing in response, turning your head towards hers with a grip on your chin. She smiles and shakes her head. “Ask nicely beautiful.” You lick your lips and nod. “I need you please, please Abby.
She lets go of your face, standing up and holding out a hand for you, you take it letting her pull you up out of the booth. Your legs were weak, even trembling, she noticed this and smirked at you.
She drove the two of you to her apartment, so fucking close to yours, her hand on your thigh the whole way there, her glances never made you blush any less each time. She parks her car and guides you up to her apartment with your hand clutched all the way there.
She unlocks her door, leading you in first, she walks in behind you, and kicks off her shoes. She grabs you, pushing you against the door connecting your lips with hers, locking the door with one hand, the other wrapped around your waist.
She pulls away, looking at you with those lustful blue eyes, they looked much brighter when you first met her but now there's nothing darker. She locks lips with you picking you up and carrying you towards her bedroom, her hands full of ass.
She’s mirroring your whimpers into the kiss with grunts, your arms wrapped around her neck. As she enters the bedroom with your legs wrapped around her, you fiddle with her braid, undoing it and running your fingers through the loose strands.
She throws you down onto the bed, the plush duvet sinking behind your back. Your quick breaths are loud in the quiet room, Abby stares are you eating you up with her eyes. “What do you want beautiful?” she says to you, stripping her jeans off revealing her grey boxer briefs, a wet spot that catches your eye. Apparently, you're not the only one worked up.
When you don't respond she hums a “hmm?” to you pulling you from your thoughts. “I want you, I want to feel you everywhere Abby.” A quiet grunt comes from the back of her throat. She leans to you, putting her knees on the bed and caging you in with her arms. She kisses you, her tongue tangled with yours. She pulls away to strip her shirt from her body, tossing it aside.
You admire her body, stripped from her tight t-shirt her muscles look even bigger. She places your hands on her shoulders pulling your shirt off. She leans down to unhook your bra and kisses you.
She scans your body, her eyes make you want her even more. She kisses your lips, pushing her knee in between your thighs applying the perfect amount of friction as she moves to make out with you.
She kisses down your bare chest sucking purple spots all the way down your stomach, your neck to your hips littered in hickeys. “So fucking good for me.” She mutters out as she flips the hem of your skirt up onto your stomach. She kisses the inside of your thighs, whines and whimpers falling out of your mouth with need.
She leaves marks leading up to your panties, now even wetter with want. She pushes them to the side, taking a quick lick and sucking on your clit then looking up at you. Her eyes, her face from the angle could make you cum right there and then.
“You taste so fucking good beautiful.” You were melting. She attaches her mouth back to your clit spiralling circles with her tongue, holding your hips down with one hand.
She rubs your hip as you fight to ride her face, take control. She sucks your clit and pushes two fingers inside, filling you so well. Her fingers found places inside you, you never knew existed.
Her tongue quickens it's pace as so does her fingers pumping in and out of you. Moans fall from the back of your throat, you can hear Abby’s grunts vibrating against your clit.
She disconnects her mouth, pumping and curling her fingers to the perfect spot at a brutal pace, she looks up at you, arched back gripping the blanket. “Such a good fucking girl.” Her praises push you over the edge. She connects her lips back pulling you quickly to your climax. You look down to her, as your thoughts dissapear.
You pulse all over her fingers, and she pulls them out, kissing your thigh. She looks back at you, as she sucks you off her fingers. “So good sweetheart, so goddamn good.” She crawls her back up to your lips kissing you gently.
She whispers into your ear. “You make such pretty noises for a slut.” That shocked you, after all those praises, she degraded you. It had you ready for round two all in eight words.
She lays next to you, looking you up and down. “Want a drink?” She asks.
You nod, she gets up tossing you her t-shirt and a fresh pair of underwear from her drawer, a pair of black boxers. They were loose resting on your hips as the shirt went to mid thighs.
She walks out of the room, and you follow her sitting on the couch as she pulls a bottle of dark liquor from her bar cart. You lay down, she sits down placing your legs on top of hers passing you the drink. She tucks her hair behind her ear and looks at you, placing her hand on your thigh.
“Wanna stay the night?”
A/N: AHHHH I wrote this really fast if there are any spelling mistakes/ grammar mistakes LOOK AWAY. I love Abby thank you.
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ssahotchnerr · 4 months
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Ok I just got this image in my head of working out at the FBI gym to unwind after a particularly bad case, and Aaron had the same idea and so you're just there getting distracted because you can't help but stare at him and maybe he finally notices and he's amused - I would die (a happy death)
distractions
you and me both <3 cw; gn!, bau!reader, mutual pining, suggestiveness, your basic cm case descriptions, aaron being hot per usual
your first priority after the jet touched down - the bau's gym.
the case had been unsettling; a not-so-happy ending. sure, you had gotten the guy, but not before he had taken out his most recent victim. he had known it was only a matter of time until he was caught, he had known police had shut down the surrounding area, and managed to complete his endgame before being apprehended.
it happened, sucked when it did. and rather than going straight home, a distraction was in order; to move your body instead of laying in the dark internalizing what could have been done differently.
at the late hour, you expected the gym to be empty, and you had been correct, until aaron walked in about ten minutes after you did.
he seemed just as surprised to see you as you did him, silently nodding a hello at you, heading for the treadmills.
you had been on a yoga mat, stretching and warming up your muscles before doing anything strenuous. but at the sight of him, your impending workout plans were far gone.
you were used to seeing aaron in his usual suit, you'd seen him in casual clothes a few times due to team outings, but nothing could have prepared you for the skin-tight black shirt he was sporting. it was clinging in the all right places - his torso, biceps, and yup - you could've sworn he did have the faintest of abs.
you've always been attracted to him, but this. your mouth had immediately gone dry, your body felt warm despite your lack of movement, and no pure thoughts were in your mind in any capacity.
you tried your hardest to not look, but you couldn't tear your eyes away. how could you not? first reason being, it was him. and then the longer he ran, the sweat caused his shirt to stick to his skin more if it were possible, his chest rose up and down the heavier he breathed. as he jogged his calves flexed, and god were his thighs sexy. his shorts were on the longer side, mid-thigh to be exact, leaving more to the imagination than you would have preferred. but the slightly, newly exposed skin was still, well, new.
so you stayed put, choosing to just admire the view before you. but hopefully to not be too obvious, you performed sit ups; lingering upright to grant yourself the visual before laying back down.
well, at least this is one way to forget about the case.
give or take another five minutes, aaron adjusted the treadmill's settings, slowing to a stop.
"that's it?" you teased, a soft laugh leaving you as you straightened your legs out, reaching for your toes.
as if you were the one to speak, barely moving an inch.
"yeah," he took a swig of his water bottle, panting as he caught his breath. "it's a bit hard to focus with you here."
caught.
"oh my god," your face burned with embarrassment, scrambling to your feet. "i didn't mean to- i mean, you just looked so..."
aaron laughed handsomely, approaching you as your words trailed off. "i meant i don't want to trip over my feet. especially not with you here. it wouldn't look very good for me, i don't think."
oh? "oh."
"but go on." aaron teased, his lips pulling into a smirk as his eyes met yours, dropping for a moment. he was studying you this time around - the light sweat coating your skin, and not very subtly staring at your lips. his breath picked up again, his gaze returning to yours. you also realized, he was dangerously close. "i looked...?"
you swallowed, blinking up at him and managing a soft, "what?"
"i saw you staring. now c'mon, don't start something you can't finish, sweetheart."
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crheativity · 23 days
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This is my first time requesting here, so...
Hi! Mind if I send in a request? Hear me out: the track club bois, the basketball club bois and the spelldrive club bois getting a kiss on the cheek from the reader after a successful game/track meet
A KISS FOR THE VICTOR
SUMMARY: After a successful club meet, you give them a kiss on the cheek! How do they react?
WARNINGS: Some of these may be out of character (I’m sorry I still have no clue how to write Jack, Leona and Floyd)
COMMENTS: Hi! Sorry it’s taken me so long to get to this request, there were a lot of boys hehe! I hope you don’t mind but since there are a lot I did shorter headcanons instead of a full thing for each boy. Also, since I have no experience writing kisses yet, I just did their reactions. I hope that’s okay! This is such a cute prompt though, thank you so much for requesting it!!
Also, if you enjoy this, please consider checking out my 200 followers event!
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TRACK CLUB
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Jack froze, his eyes going wide. He coughed into his fist and looked away, desperately trying to regain his composure. A herculean feat, considering how adorable you looked gazing up at him like that. He smiles at you hesitantly - a small, wavering smile, before his cheeks go pink and he turns away to talk to his teammates. Although it seems he does not care, a keen eye will notice how his ears won’t stop twitching and his tail keeps wagging. 
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Poor boy stopped responding immediately. He tripped on the sidewalk and almost fell over, he got so flustered. He can’t concentrate on anything now. He’s really sorry, he’s trying his best to listen to what you have to say, but his mind is replaying that kiss over and over… He can’t look you in the eye for the next few days. The moment he gets to crash in his room, he calls his mum. He briefly talked about his match, but mostly talked about you. How does he talk to you again after that?? He might be a little awkward over the next couple of days, but know that you’re constantly on his mind and in his heart.
BASKETBALL CLUB
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Oh? You’re gonna give him a kiss? Well tough luck, he expects one every match from now on! So what if he doesn’t win? He wants one anyway! That’s how you can cheer him up after a match from now on!  But in the moment, he’s picking you up and spinning you around. His face is very red - whether from the exercise or from you, it’s hard to tell, but the bright red ears are a dead giveaway. He’s not gonna forget what you did, and loves to remind you - in the hopes that you’ll do it again.
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Time stops for him and he stares at you, dumbfounded. His face heats up and boy does he wish he had his hood right now. He can’t talk to you or face you for the next hour as he struggles to figure out what to say. He does however feel really smug. Everyone in the match did super well, but he was the only one who got a kiss! From you! Ha! …wait. He was the only one who got a kiss. From you. He’s confused and flustered all over again. Please confess to him before he goes insane.
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Ehhh~? Shrimpy’s giving him a kiss? Only one on the cheek? Screw that, he’s gonna give you an actual kiss! And a squeeze to boot. The moment you give him a kiss he registers that kisses are okay in whatever relationship you and he have and boy is he gonna abuse that. What are the two of you? He doesn’t care as long as you don’t, but if he makes you uncomfortable then he wants to know. Like Ace, he’s going to be expecting one for every match now, but if you don’t give him a kiss for some reason that won’t stop him giving you one~!
SPELLDRIVE CLUB
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You thought Ace was bad? Leona’s gonna be so much worse. He doesn’t tease you quite as much, but he’s going to be incredibly smug, both after the track meeting and for the next couple of weeks after. Please be prepared for suddenly more Leona in your life, as the moment you press a kiss to his cheek he’s going to take that as a rite of passage to be almost constantly around you. He will encourage you to ditch class with him as much as possible. He just wants to spend more time with you now, and after that kiss, surely that means you want that too, right?
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Ruggie nervously laughs it off, his cheeks going bright pink as he fumbles for something to say. He honestly, genuinely wasn’t expecting it - you managed to catch him so off guard that he doesn’t quite know how to act. Ah, but he’s not upset! He’s exactly the opposite of that, if anything. Elated, maybe? Who cares, his crush just kissed him! He is going to be bragging so hard to Leona and anyone who’ll listen afterwards. Maybe he’ll start giving you a couple more snacks - with a kiss as payment of course! Shishishi.
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LET’S FREAKING GOOO. wait. Did you just kiss me-? Epel was in such a good mood after his match that his brain didn’t fully register that you just kissed him. He takes a break from celebrating for a moment to double check. When you confirm that yes, in fact, you did kiss him, his cheeks go apple red and he starts celebrating way harder. Calm down? He can’t calm down, this is the best day of his life! He won a match and got a kiss from a cutie to boot! The only thing that makes him calm down a little is Vil threatening to smack him with his shoe.
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♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥
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lilywastaken · 1 year
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⇝ midnight .
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!AFAB!Reader.
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PART ONE OF MÉNAGE.
SUMMARY: Simon makes the mistake of spending the night before one of the longest missions of his career in the arms of a woman he met at a pub, unaware of the consequences it would have on his life moving forward.
WARNINGS: AFAB!Fem!Reader (no use of Y/N!) NSFW [ Oral (F receiving), Degradation, Praising, size difference/kink, dacryphilia, dumbification, slight bondage, frottage, unprotected P in V, overstimulation, various orgasms, creampie.], Angst, Pregnancy, mentions of abortion, kind of OOC Simon? He’s just soft when he’s not Ghost, Canon typical violence.
A/N: My first COD fic! It also happens to be the longest piece of writing I've ever done 😵! This is the first part of a series I've been planning on writing for a while, so I'll hopefully get the second part out soon! Please don't forget to reblog/comment if you enjoy the fic, it helps a lot!!! Thanks for all the support!! <3
WORD COUNT: 10.1k.
MASTERLIST.
Also on Ao3!
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Going out wasn't one of Ghost's favourite things to do.
Even after getting back to his tiny flat in Manchester following a horribly long mission and shedding his mask, going back to the burly man his neighbours knew as Simon, some random guy who had moved in a few years ago and seldom stepped outside except for the random smoking session some of them would see him having on his balcony; he didn't enjoy going out.
So when he finally was able to relax onto his shitty leather sofa and catch up with some of the footy games he had missed while away, all he wanted more than anything was a good whiskey in his favourite (cleanest) glass.
And almost like a cartoon character staring at their empty wallet, Simon stared ahead at his liquor cabinet, jaw clenched as he spied at the remaining drops of alcohol that were left in the bottle, remembering the mental note he had made before leaving his flat the last time to get himself the alcohol he had chugged down during one of his depressive episodes.
So, in a fit of anger, he shoved on whatever clean clothes he could find in his duffle bag, skull balaclava pulled over his messy hair, and stomped down the stairs to the nearest Tesco…
…only to find it closed.
And fuck him if he was going to walk the extra hour to the nearest Morrison's just to get some shitty whiskey bottle to drown his sorrows in. At this point, he'd just go and sit in a corner of a pub, nursing what he would hope would be an acceptable liquor.
He was absolutely pissed by the time he made it into the homey bar, the universe having decided to make it it's personal mission to fuck him up today and making the worst storm possible start to rain upon Manchester.
Oh, and of course, the pub's tables were all full of teenagers (who definitely had fake IDs, no way they were all 18), and some old geezers who were shouting at the football game on TV (great, Manchester was loosing, another thing to worsen his night), leaving the only available seat one in the middle of the bar next to some woman chatting amicably to the waiter, who seemed a bit more interested in her cleavage than in what she had to say.
He slipped into the seat silently, his clear eyes death-staring into the bartender's, immediately scaring him shitless ("Yer about ta kill me with that look, Lt." Johnny had once joked about his murderous gaze, and to be fair, Simon was slightly hoping the scot would combust and die right there.), no doubt believing that he was with the woman and was about to punch his teeth in for staring longer than he should have.
As he scurried off into the back, you turned to him, taken aback at first as you made eye contact with the towering, wet, balaclava-clad man who was staring back at you, but you were brave enough to smile kindly at him, going back to running your finger over the rim of your drink, which Simon noticed was still and hardly drank out of, despite the lipstick smudges around the top. You'd been here a while, and by the way your leg was nervously jumping up and down as time passed by, he could only assume you'd been stood up.
Now, Simon wasn't dumb, far from it; and Simon was smart enough to recognize when someone was attractive, and he was pretty sure that the woman in front of him was drop-dead gorgeous despite the sad look that adorned your features. So, if he was correct, he couldn't even begin to fathom how someone could even start to think of standing up a woman like you, especially after inviting her to this shitty pub, where the food had definitely given him food poisoning before.
He hadn't realised how deep in thought he must have been while staring at your glass until a soft hand rested against his bicep, eyes instantly flashing back towards yours, instincts haywire from having been pulled out from his thoughts so suddenly.
"Sorry!" You immediately retracted your hand from his arm, smiling apologetically up at him before turning your gaze back to the golden liquid. "I asked if you were okay. I can't imagine walking around in a storm with just that on." You gestured towards his shirt, allowing Simon to look down and stare at the tight T-shirt he had chosen to wear, a few dirt stains decorating it in the worst way possible, having dressed for the occasion that was a 10pm trip to Tesco and not meeting up with a pretty woman at a pub.
"Wasn't planning on walking 'round." He grumbled out, his voice deeper than what you had expected, the thick accent and scratchy sound of it making shivers run down your spine and heat pool into your stomach, becoming horrified with yourself that you allowed such a minimal thing like a masked man's voice get you all hot and flustered like this.
"'Nd you? Doesn't seem like you're dressed for a night out at the Crown's." His eyes moved towards your dress, surprised with himself that he had actively been the one to continue the conversation; his thick hand reaching over to grab his drink from the bartender's hand (which he must have ordered during the haze he had been in before.) as he awaited your answer.
"Oh." He watched you smooth down your hair out from the corner of his eye, your hands shaky as they found comfort around the fancy glass of your whiskey. Or was it bourbon? Maybe rum? You seemed like the type of woman to appreciate a good glass of liquor. "Yeah, 'm waiting for someone."
He watched your eyes dart over to the clock hanging on the wall opposite you both, the little hand nearing the number 11.
"Could've taken you somewhere nicer." He commented, taking a jab at both the pub and your missing date, the small breathless chuckle that left your lips catching his attention.
"Yeah. Not like I expected a reservation at the Ritz, but somewhere that doesn't look like my grandad's favourite pub would be nice." You joked over the sound of some of the old men cheering in the background over some team scoring a goal, and while Simon would've normally turned around to make sure it had been Manchester, he was too focused on the mesmerising way your eyes looked in the dim light, your eyelashes fluttering innocently as you continued what had started as small talk, that evolved into friendly conversation and him buying you another drink, and that ended with him waiting for you outside the bathrooms, holding onto your tiny umbrella.
Simon wasn't one to frequent in hook-ups, but how enticing you had been when talking to him, the way your body looked in that dress and how you'd brushed your soft hand against his bicep (this time with another intent other than to snap him out of his stupor), had left him wanting, nay, craving more from you.
So when you looked out the window behind him before gesturing to the small umbrella hanging from your bag and asked if he wanted to take you home, he would have been demented to deny you.
His screen's brightness lit up his face as he scrolled over the scarce messages he had received across the almost 10 years he had had this crappy phone, about to delete Soap's number before you came out, a smile on your face and makeup freshly applied.
"Some girls helped me with my makeup in there." You commented happily, fingertips brushing over the blush that had been applied to the apples of your cheeks, which made you somehow look even more enticing than before. "I didn't have time to look in the mirror, but I hope it looks okay."
"Looks nice on you." He let out after processing your new look, his chest tightening as your smile somehow widened and your eyes brightened, having learned across the few hours you had spent together that Simon wasn't really one to show his emotions towards anyone, so a short compliment like that was a big step.
"You think?" You didn't wait for an answer, your hand finding his and starting to lead him out of the shadowy corner he had taken refuge in while your time in the bathroom, letting him push open the exit door so he could open up the umbrella, not caring about the raindrops falling onto him and darkening his clothes, the rain getting caught onto his eyelashes like morning dew on a spiders web, the beautiful orbs drawing you in like a butterfly happily flying into a spider's nest.
The umbrella was open and poised on top of you before you could even step out of the pub, Simon doing his best so you wouldn't be touched by the rain, aware of how uncomfortable some people got when it came to water running down your back or touching your face (especially when you looked so so pretty with your make-up.). Along with his massive frame walking next to you, you were pretty sure there was no way a single drop of water would touch your skin the whole way back home.
Which ended up being almost silent, you leading the way and commenting on random stores or things you passed, brightening up every time you got a chuckle out of him and melting whenever his hand would wrap around your waist as you passed some creepy man or a suspicious-looking group of teens, pulling you into his side so no one would even think of messing with you.
You were highly aware of how dangerous it was in hindsight to take some random man home (whose face you hadn't even seen yet!), but Simon made you feel safe, special, in some weird way… like as long as you were in his vicinity, nothing could happen to you, nothing could harm you. And you wanted to cling onto that feeling, onto the feeling of protection and warmth that Simon extruded.
So you didn't think twice about it, even as you slipped the key into the front door to your apartment complex and stood next to him the whole elevator ride up to your floor, his hand curled around yours with his thumb rubbing over your knuckles, the soft action enough to make heat pool into your tummy and your panties, getting worked up over casual affection from the breathtaking man.
"Y'sure about this, lovie?" His raspy voice made you fumble with your keys as he came up behind you, watching you struggle to unlock your flat as his breath hit your ear. "Tell me to leave and I will. Last chance."
Your breathing grew shaky as his own warmed your cheek, the way he worded it making it seem like the act you were both about to perform was something akin to letting a beast free, and even if it was, as long as Simon was the one to do it, you would have let him do anything.
"Yes." You managed to get out as your door finally opened, not even getting the time to take a step in before his hands were all over you, pushing you into the apartment and slamming the door closed behind him with his foot, his balaclava somehow being pulled up to his nose, high enough so you could gaze upon his soft pink lips and the blond stubble that adorned his chin and slightly crooked nose, aware that you would have spent hours tracing his features with your eyes, engraving them to memory, but he took away any thoughts away from you as he slotted his lips with yours.
You learned immediately that Simon's kisses were desperate, sloppy, needy. The way his hands gripped at your hips and his teeth nibbled onto your bottom lip, tongue running over yours as he trailed his palms down your thighs onto your feet, wrenching off your heels and ripping apart your tights, ignoring the angered whine that left your lips.
"Easier access, lovie." He murmured against your lips, finally pulling back with a sleazy grin on his lips, a string of spit connecting you both before breaking, allowing you a bit of time to catch your breath while he took in your living room, staring at the doors. "Bedroom?"
"Th- That one-" You hazardly pointed towards one of the doors behind you, squealing out loud as he grabbed you effortlessly and started to carry you towards your room, thighs pressed to his sides and ankles crossed behind his back, making sure to cling onto him so he wouldn't randomly drop you (Although by the way his muscles barely tensed when he had picked you up, and how easily he seemed to navigate around while carrying you made you think that there was no way he'd let you fall.)
Your back finally hit your familiar soft mattress, hands clenching onto your silk sheets as he watched you like a hawk, hands resting on the space of your thighs near your now-dripping cunt, thumbs rubbing into the soft pudge.
"Fuck… Just look t'you." He rumbled out, your cheeks growing warm as he continued to stare without moving, enjoying the way you started to squirm beneath his touch. "Calm, lovie, jus' taking my time wiv' you."
You mewled out at the deep tone his voice took, thighs threatening to close as one of his hands made his way towards your clothed cunt, which had been made accessible thanks to your now-ripped tights that had been left behind in the living room.
Simon forced your thighs back open with a grunt, glassy eyes darkening as he watched your own hands come up to cover your face out of embarrassment, letting himself soak in it for a moment before finally starting to act.
"Lean up f'me." You obeyed immediately, trembling under his touch as he slowly pulled your dress off, letting it pool onto the floor along with his shirt, which he had quickly gotten rid of as soon as you were in your lingerie. His eyes roamed the lace for a moment before letting out a dry chuckle, looking up at you to find you ogling at his scarred chest, almost drooling at the sight of his well built pecs and stomach. "Tryin' to get lucky tonight?" He spoke, fingers snapping your bra strap, thinking back to why you were originally at that pub in the first place.
"Shut up." You grumbled, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him up the bed so you could continue kissing him, having been left craving more ever since that breathtaking one in the foyer.
He didn't complain, quickly indulging you as he slotted his lips with yours once again, his kiss as sloppy as needy as before, openly moaning against them as your hands run under his balaclava to pull at the short strands of his coarse hair, his own hands wrapping your thighs around his waist so your clothed pussy could grind against the hard material of his trousers over his hardened cock, rejoicing in the way your moans and whines sounded as he drank them up.
"S'needy." He chastised softly as he pulled away, moving you both towards the top of the bed so you could rest your head on your pillows, catching your breath while he started slipping off his belt and trousers (the belt being placed on the bed, just in case), and letting you gaze upon the tent in his boxers, shivering at the monstrous sight of his cock, trying to imagine how in the living fuck would he fit inside you if he couldn't even fit properly in his boxers, pulling out a moan from your lipstick smudged lips at the simple thought of being fucked by such a tool.
"Like it?" He chuckled, slowly starting to lean down with his hands on your thighs, pulling one of them over his shoulder so he was face to face with your covered cunt, his breath warm as it hit your clit, making you whine. "Gunna let me have a taste?"
"Y-Yes, god, yes, Simon, please-" You breathed out all at once, desperate for his touch after the slow teasing, watching what was visible of his face scrunch up in mock laughter as he revelled in your whines.
"As you wish, lovie."
He didn't even bother pushing your panties aside before taking a lick of your cunt from bottom to top, pressing soft kisses to your clit to hear your desperate whines and feel your thighs shake beneath his touch, continuing to slowly make out with your clothed pussy, purposefully driving you insane with his limited touches.
"Off, off, pl-please, Si, please -" You whined, pushing his head away in an attempt to start to pull your panties down, crying out in frustration as he didn't budge, a growl leaving his lips and sending vibrations up your cunt.
"Don't touch. I'm taking my fucking time, pretty. Or would you rather me stick my cock into you without any prep?" You moaned out loudly at the thought, back threatening to arch as he slowly grasped at your panties, a humourless chuckle leaving his pretty lips. "Yeah, I bet your slutty pussy'd love that, wouldn't it, lovie?" He purred before finally sliding down your pants, taking a moment to stare at your cunt and let you squirm before slowly spreading your thighs again, immediately shoving his face into his prize and repeating his movements from before, but faster and rougher, letting you feel every inch of his tongue as it ran over your lips and slowly inched inside of your hole, your moans and silent screams only edging him further on until he took your engorged clit into his mouth and started sucking, placing a hand on your stomach and pushing your arching back down onto the mattress.
He was surprised, to say the least. Yes, he'd realised you were sensitive as soon as he had kissed you for the first time, but he hadn't expected you to almost burst into tears from being eaten out (He wasn't even /trying/ to make you cry, he wondered what would happen if he did.), so he wondered if all the men you'd been with before had gone down on you, but by the way you were reacting to such simple touches, he was pretty sure he knew the answer.
"So fuckin' sweet, baby." He murmured into your pussy as he let go of your swollen clit, giving your hole some attention as the hand that was on your tummy ran down to circle your clit, overstimulating you in the best way possible. "Taste like fuckin' heaven."
"Si- Simon-" you whined his name out so so sweetly, music to the normally cold lieutenant's ears. "Gonn- Fuuuck! 'Na cum! Please, please, Si, need to-"
"S'okay, let go for me, lovie." He basically purred into you as he continued licking contently at your gushing hole, fingers tactically rubbing on your clit, before changing spots, taking your clit back into his mouth and letting his fingers slip in to you, preening at the sweet gasp that left your lips at the sudden intrusion, his coarse fingers moving in and out and immediately finding that one spot that made your back arch and toes curl, and just as he was taught in the military, he took advantage of the weak spot (in this case, your sweet spot.) and didn't stop brushing his fingers against it, the increasing sound of his name alerting him of your upcoming orgasm.
And once the coil within your stomach snapped and Simon finally let your back arch of the bed, your release gushing out of you and coating his hand and wrist, you let out the loudest moan of his name, the sound immediately going to his painfully hard cock, but he didn't stop, tongue not ceasing its assault on your clit and fingers continuing to rub against your g-spot until you finally came down from your high, brain mushy and eyes glassy as you stared up at the cream ceiling.
"Such a good girl." He purred out as he finally stopped, retracting his wet fingers and taking them into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and cleaning off all of the slick you had left from your orgasm, savouring it like he would with a lollipop. "Fuckin' taste amazing."
You whined in response, the embarrassment from having cummed so fast and having to watch him lick up all your release finally catching up to you, shaky hands moving to cover your sweaty face.
He clicked his tongue, grabbing them before they could cover your pretty features and holding them together in one hand.
"No, baby. Don't want you fuckin' hiding f'me." He snapped, slowly pulling them upwards so that they were pinned against the headboard, his other hand moving to gather the belt he had discarded not so long ago, quickly taking advantage of your cum-lax state to wrap it around your wrists, making sure it was tight enough to constrict you, but not tight enough to hurt, and letting you lie there while he started on getting rid of his boxers. "Wanna see that pretty face while you come undone on my cock. Isn't that what y'want too?"
You tried moving your head to nod, but it felt so so heavy that even the slightest movement felt like a chore, feeling grateful that Simon was a man able to move you around and dominate you without even breaking sweat, that all you needed to do was lie back and enjoy everything he gave you.
"Fuckin' hell. Not even fucked ya yet and you're 'lready gone?" He sneered, coming to hover over you so he could press wet kisses to your cheeks and neck, purposefully avoiding your lips. "Pretty girl gets her pussy played wiv and turns into a right proper slut, don' she?" He purred against your neck, his words making you shiver and squirm as your body instinctively tried to move away from the stimulus, only for him to pull you back towards him with grubby hands, a loud gasp leaving your lips as he pressed your crotches together, having expected the soft cotton of his boxers and not the hard, hot feeling of his cock flush against your dripping pussy.
"Oh- Oh my god, Simon, th-"
"Mm." He cut you off with a soft purr and a nip to your jugular, no doubt making sure that you'd wake up in purple marks the next morning as he did the same all over your neck. "'S me. All me, lovie. F'you."
You moaned at the implication, slowly starting to grind yourself against him as he made it his personal mission to cover your upper body in kisses, stopping at your clavicle and staring down at your bra, that was still to be taken off.
"Fuck, forgot all 'bout these." His hand came up to squeeze one of them softly, a small sound of pleasure leaving your lips at the added stimulation as you continued to rub your cunt against his hardened cock. "Pretty little things."
He started grinding his own hips against yours, watching with amazement at how quickly you reacted to his touch, your back arching enough for him to slip his hands behind and unclasping your bra suspiciously easy, pulling it off and throwing it behind him and landing god knows where, and leaving you finally completely bare beneath him.
"Look t'you." His warm hands immediately cupped your tits, thumb and pointer rubbing your nipples between them, pinching and pulling until they were hard, an amazed chuckle leaving his lips as he listened to your moans increase in sound, his grinding against you not ceasing either.
"Oh fuck- fuck fuck!" It was embarrassing, how quickly he had you whining and mewling beneath him, when you had found yourself struggling before to even feel something with men before him doing the same. It was just something about him, something about the way he sounded and touched, the precise movements against you, almost like he had been trained for your pleasure, to get you over the edge as many times as he could muster before even getting his dick wet.
Because the instant you felt his warm breath hit one of your perky breasts, you knew you were fucked, headed towards your second orgasm of the night. His warm mouth enveloped your hard nipple, pulling and tugging with his teeth and soothing the slight pain he left with his talented tongue, his grinding becoming quicker and rougher as he felt your thighs tremble around his waist, your eyes watering as you neared the release you oh so craved, gasping out loud as one of his hands came up to cup your cheek, thumb rubbing over your flushed skin.
"You gunna cry, baby? S'okay, let it out. Let it out f'me." He growled as he let go of your now throbbing nipple, moving to give your other neglected breast the same attention, hand leaving your face to run down to your core and slowly run over your clit, a huge contrast to the rough movements of his cock against you and his warm mouth on your nipple, all the different stimulations and feelings enough to push you over the edge and let the tears that had been collecting in your waterline finally fall, gasping moans and screams leaving your lips as you soaked his cock, body trembling beneath his ministrations as he chuckled against your nipple, enjoying the way you were slowly falling apart and he hadn't even pushed into you yet.
He didn't stop for a few moments, waiting until the moment where you would inevitably start whining and pushing him off with weak arms to cease, leaning back up with a shit eating grin as he waited for you to come down from your high.
"Oi, look at me." He taps one of his fingers on your face, moving your gaze towards his, a small, patronising pout tugging at his lips as he watches the tears roll down your cheeks. "Poor thing. You all fucked out yet? D'you think y'could still take my cock? Or are you too dumb f'that right now?"
"Y-yes, yes, please, please, need it so bad, Si! So so bad!" You stuttered out between laboured breaths, hands struggling against their binding, itching to be let free and feel his cock in your hands, which you could see between you, almost as girthy as a coke can and with a few prominent veins leading up to his flushed red tip, that was leaking pre spend you would gladly pay money to clean up with your tongue. "O-oh fuck, Simon, please -"
"Sh, shh. Calm down, y'little crybaby." He chastised, leaning down to softly press kisses over the tears that had gathered on your flushed cheeks, chuckling at how desperate you looked under him. "I'll give you what you want. Gon' fuck you so well, yeah? You'll feel me f'weeks, lovie."
"Fuck, yes, please! Want your cock so badly, please!" You cried, legs immediately spreading for him as soon as his calloused hands landed on the pudge of your thighs, slightly digging his fingers into them as he took in the beautiful sight of your soaking wet pussy, having half the mind to shove his cock in you without a second thought. But no.
"Calm." He snapped, one of his hands dropping your thighs and slapping your face softly to get your attention. "Protection, baby. You got a condom?"
He frowned as you shook your head, gasping for breath as you pointed over to your nightstand, where he could faintly see the glint of a packet of tablets in the dark. "Pill. 'M on the pill, Si. Clean. I'm clean."
He couldn't help the smile that crept onto his lips at the thought of being able to cum inside, and how eager you were acting to get him to finally stick his cock inside, whines and whimpers pulling him from his thoughts as he stared down at you.
"You going to let me cum inside then, lovie?" He teased, pulling your other thigh back up so the underside of both of them were resting flush against his bare chest, twitching cock resting on your overstimulated core. "Don' think I'm gonna be able to pull out."
"Don't want you to, fuck! Please, Simon, please!! Inside, want you to cum inside!"
A shiver racked through his body at your words, carefully letting one of your legs go and making sure it would stay there, wrapping around it to grab his cock, slowly sliding the head around your puffy lips to collect the slick, wanting the intrusion to be as painless as possible.
"Fuck… Alright, baby, alright. Breathe f'me." He whispered, letting the head of his cock press against your hole, telling himself to go slow and calm down, but by the way you were pulsing and clenching around the head, almost like you were pulling him in, made it hard to stay sane. "God, slutty lil' cunt's just swallowing me in, huh? Want this cock that bad?"
Your hands shook against their restraint as he started to push himself into your sopping hole, wanting nothing more than to grab onto something for stability, but you didn't want to risk him getting annoyed at you for trying to.
"S'okay, almost there." He mumbled, lying straight through his teeth because with one look down to where he was connected to it would prove that he wasn't even halfway in, and it was already proving difficult for your hole to accommodate to his massive size.
"S'big, Si, you're so biiig." You whined, spreading your legs slightly and pushing your body onto him to help, shivering as you could feel him start throbbing inside of you, no doubt needing his own climax after having spent so much time focusing on you.
You could feel your eyes start to flutter close, mouth dropping open as he finally bottomed out, his heavy balls flush against your ass and cock throbbing inside of you, taking a breather and letting you adjust to his size before he would start on his ruthless pace.
"Fuck, lovie, you droolin'?" He panted, a hand coming up to rest against your face and pull you out of your sex-drunk haze (Despite only getting his cock inside you now.), your eyes drowning in his crystal ones, hypnotised by his gaze as he used his thumb to rub away some of the drool that had dribbled down your chin. "Pretty girl finally gets some cock and turns into a drooling slut, huh?"
You let out a noise of complaint as your hands continued to struggle, the few coarse hairs that were peeking out from under his mask enough to make you want to bury your fingers in them, pull at his strands and dig your nails into his scalp as he rocked your world.
He seemed to to understand what you wanted, a chuckle leaving his swollen lips as he leaned over you, legs folding along with him and allowing him to reach a deeper point in your cunt you didn't know that existed, a loud moan escaping you as his calloused hands start undoing the belt, finally letting your wrists free and throwing the piece of leather away, his hands going back to holding onto one of your thighs and another gripping your waist.
"All yours, baby. All fuckin' yours."
He gave you a moment to react as he bottomed out, leaving you empty for a split moment before he slammed back in, cock head almost instantly hitting that sweet spot deep inside you, your hands immediately finding refuge on his shoulders, nails digging into the scarred skin as he repeated his ruthless thrusts, your body shaking beneath his as he pushed down onto your body, forcing you both into a mating press, your cunt tightening around his cock at the sight of his eyes rolling into the back of his head, tummy fluttering at the thought that he was enjoying this as much as you were.
"Fuck, so good, Simon! So fucking good!" Your hands trailed up to the nape of his neck and pulled at the few short hairs there, urging a growl out of him and causing him to slightly speed up, the head of his cock at this point abusing your g-spot, urging you to near your third orgasm. "Wan- Wanna cum, fuck, gonna cum, Simon!"
"Already, baby?" He spoke through bated breath, his stamina allowing him to keep a good and consistent pace, enough to please both of you and almost bring you to tears again. "That's okay, cum for me, lovie. Cum on my fucking cock, show me how much of a fucking whore you are f'me."
Your back arched, pressing your breasts to his sweaty chest, the extra stimulation from your nipples rubbing against his coarse skin finally pushing you over the edge, your cunt clamping down on his cock and making it near impossible for him to continue thrusting, but as the good soldier Simon was, he persisted, rutting into you with bared teeth and a clenched jaw, fucking you through your orgasm until your slick covered his balls and upper thighs.
"Good girl, good fucking girl." He rasped, hand moving from your waist up to your neck, giving an experimental squeeze and moaning as you clenched around him, a breathless chuckle leaving him. "Fuck, you're still clenchin' around me so nicely, love. Feel so fuckin' good, perfect lil' pussy all f'me..."
Simon was saying nonsense at this point, becoming near pussy drunk as his cock hammered into your puffy cunt, nearing his own peak after all the foreplay.
"Si- Simon-!" You keened, hands running under his mask to grasp at his hair properly, pulling at it to coax another guttural moan from him and leading him back down to engage in a messy kiss, teeth clanking together and spit being shared, feeling the desperation he was in as he continued to batter your pussy searching for his own orgasm. "Cum, please, please, cum inside!"
Simon's eyes rolled into the back of his head at your begging, eyelashes fluttering as his pace stuttered inside of you, cockhead pressing against the entrance to your cervix and finally going over the edge, his spend gushing into you and almost immediately filling you, his cock acting like a plug inside you.
"O-oh, fuuck…" He moaned out, voice going slightly high pitched as he relished in the euphoria of finishing inside of you, his nails leaving ten moon shaped indents on your hips, the pain nothing compared to the feeling of him finally fucking his spend into you, you'd have to worry about the inevitable bruises and marks in the morning before work. "Fuck, you're… fuck."
Simon lowered himself down, resting his sweaty balaclava-clad face on your shoulder as you both caught your breaths, his cock twitching inside of you as he rode the waves of his orgasm.
Your eyes were blown out, staring up at the ceiling as you were hit with a sudden wave of realisation, your brain finally catching up with your body and taking in everything that had just happened, especially the fact that you had allowed some masked man you'd met at a pub on a tinder date to ravage you like a starved animal.
"Oh my god." You said, voice wavering as you shivered beneath the mountain of a man, who's sweaty body was pressed flush to yours, his cock softening inside of you as you both started to sober up. "O-Oh my god, Simon."
He let out a moan against your skin, languidly thrusting one final time into you before slowly pulling out, peeling himself off of you and letting the cold air envelop your now-shivering body, the feeling of his warm cum dripping down your puffy cunt pulling out another broken whine from your lips.
"Look at that…" You tried moving away as Simon ran a finger down your spent hole, gathering his cum best he could before slowly shoving it back into you, clicking his tongue at your reaction before leaning down and pressing a final kiss to your clit, the loud cry that left you making him smile almost predatorily. "So, so pretty, baby."
Your eyelids fluttered closed as you felt the bed shift beneath Simon's moving weight, allowing you time to set your head on straight and think about the next words that were going to come out of your mouth (That weren't strangled moans of the blond's name and jumbled cries about how good he felt.) while he moved around, no doubt getting his discarded clothes so he could slip away into the night.
"...leavin'?" You finally mustered out, letting your head fall to a side so you could watch him pick up his boxers and slip them on, his balaclava fixed into place like it had been when you met him, leaving you to stare into his mysterious blue eyes, the only gateway into the man who had just finished ravishing you.
"..." He turned to look at you over his shoulder, eyes trailing over your shivering frame as he fought internally over your words.
Ghost knew that it would be dangerous to stay, to indulge in your touch and show himself to you in one of his most vulnerable states. He didn't know you outside of the few hours he had spent with you, and even with that, it wasn't enough for Ghost to let his guard down around you.
Simon wanted to stay, he wanted to climb back into bed and let you curl into his side, let his warm hands run up and down your warm skin like he had done while pleasuring you, listen to your snores and even breathing. And despite probably not being able to fall asleep himself, Simon knew that it would be one of the few tranquil nights of his life.
So despite Ghost's alarming protests ringing in his head, Simon slowly made his way into the empty spot of your bed next to you, the covers soft and cool against his heated skin, soothing the raging fire that seemed to boil inside of him at the mere sight of you, his large arms wrapping around you and pulling you towards his side of the bed.
As soon as your bare body made contact with his, you melted like ice cream on a hot day, curling into his side and allowing him to wrap his tattooed arm around you, calloused hands running up and down your sides, taking his sweet time memorising every curve and dip of your body as you rested your head onto his chest, ear pressed right above his rapidly beating heart.
Not one word was exchanged between you both the whole time you lied together, his fingers tracing every little nook and cranny of your skin he could find, stopping every once in a while to rub on a tense muscle or over a scar, the soft ministrations swiftly lulling you to sleep.
The hand that you had splayed on his chest was mimicking his movements, fingers running over the blond hair that adorned his chest, playing with the small cross that dangled from the small chain necklace around his neck. Every time his hand would come up to rub at your shoulders, you caught a peak at the many tattoos that sleeved his arm, and as much as you wanted to turn around and commit all of them to memory, every time you tried to move, he'd press you closer, as if he knew that if he did allow you to, you'd only put off sleeping for longer.
As your eyelids started drooping, you felt his other hand come up to rest over your smaller one, toughened fingers intertwining with your own softer ones, a tired smile forming at your lips before finally clocking out, his heartbeat a firm rhythm that pulled you further and further into the soft grasp of Hypnos.
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As expected, Simon didn't sleep a wink.
He had tried to close his eyes and enjoy the warmth you radiated, trying his best to let your soft snores and murmurs lull him to sleep, but it was impossible.
Despite not having slept for more than two days, he was unable to fall asleep, on edge after the catastrophe that was his last mission.
That was one of the reasons he had decided to step out of his comfort zone and allow himself a night of indulgence with you, a night of letting himself go and take out all his anger on you, but he had been impuissant to hurt you or even come close to actually wound you, instead taking it as slow as he knew how to and muttering soft praises and sweet nicknames into your ear along with the degradation that he'd mixed in.
And even after tiring himself out, he still couldn't let himself fully relax.
But as he turned his head to look down at your sleeping face, he thought that maybe this wasn't so bad. He felt… at ease, for the first time in a while. No strident alarms to wake him up at the crack of dawn, no ringing in his ears as a grenade went off near him, no desperately patching up a wound and drenching his hands in blood, no screams and pleas of mercy reverberating around his head as he disposed of the enemy.
None of that. It was just you. With your body curled into his side and your soft skin beneath a killer's hands.
Which is why he wished he could stay there forever. Lock the door and have you in his arms for the rest of his life, without the paranoia and the horrors that followed him everywhere he went, only focus on you and how mushy you made him feel with only a few hours of knowing him.
Which is why he wished he could have just fallen asleep and ignored the vibrations that came from beneath his discarded clothes, that he didn't leave your side and pick up the phone, that he hadn't followed orders like he always did and hadn't left you alone.
He carefully tucked you in, making his side of the bed before hesitantly brushing his scarred knuckles against your flushed cheeks, an alternative to the kiss he oh-so wanted to press down onto you until you woke up, until you asked him to stay, until he caved in and left the 141 to fend for themselves.
But he didn't.
He closed the door to your bedroom, slipped his phone and keys back into his pockets and headed towards the front door, ready to leave you behind and go back to being Ghost.
But as his hand reached for the doorknob, his eyes caught onto a stack of fluorescent yellow sticky notes on the kitchen counter, and in a stroke of not so genius, he grabbed the nearest pen and scribbled down his number onto the piece of paper, signing it with a simple "S .", hoping that you'd deduce it was from him, and not from some random person whose name started with the letter S that had broken into your apartment just to give you their number.
He stuck it a bit too aggressively to the almost bare fridge, making sure it was in a visible spot that you wouldn't be able to miss before finally stepping out of your flat, adjusting his mask in the elevator's mirror and going back to the cold hearted killer his fellow soldiers knew as Ghost.
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He'd expected it to be a short mission.
One that they'd be able to finish within two weeks at best so he could go back to his cramped flat in Manchester and hopefully get back to you.
He'd spent almost every day of the first week of his departure wondering if you'd found the note, if when he'd retrieve his phone back from his locker back at base, he'd find a few messages from an unknown number he hoped was yours, asking him how he was, asking him to meet up again, wondering if he was okay…
That's what mostly kept him going for the first few days.
Until it all went haywire.
The mission escalated quickly into a mess of soldiers and betrayals, flying from place to place and taking more lives with his bare hands than he had ever before.
Blood soaked his hands in a way it never had, the toll of deaths on his name increasing with every passing day, week, month, year.
When the mission that had started off as something simple, something Ghost couldn't even remember, ended after a year, the 141 couldn't be more relieved. And exhausted.
They'd fought for many months straight, barely finding places to get a wink of sleep, and sometimes even running out of food while they camped out in one of the dingy safe houses of whatever city they were currently stranded in.
But it was finally over. Their target had been disposed of and any enemy that remained had either been eliminated or had scurried off.
As the chopper brought them back to base, none of them said a word, even Johnny refrained from making any jokes, knowing that it would only piss off both of his superiors and maybe get a tired chuckle out of Gaz.
Price uttered a "Good job." to all of them before patting them on the shoulder and going to his office, no doubt ready to go back home and have the sleep of his life.
The two sergeants withheld from talking too much to their lieutenant, murmuring a goodbye to him before going their own way, Ghost not even bothering to answer, too mentally and physically exhausted to even open his mouth to speak.
The first thing he did once he reached his locker was throw the goddamn mask off, letting the plastic skull clatter against the tiles as he rummaged through his belongings, wanting nothing more than to get into some clean clothes and go back home, where he would drink away the horrors that would no doubt follow him and probably pass out watching reruns of football games he had missed.
The clothes he had worn the day before the mission were tighter, accentuating the change in his physique after putting his muscles to work for a whole year, the seams of his trousers digging uncomfortably into his legs, his pockets full of random junk he had left in there.
He fished for whatever was currently pressing against his backside, pulling out his small phone from the pocket, frowning down at the gadget, which was no doubt out of battery after being left for so long.
Simon was pleasantly surprised when the screen brightened, showing his black lock screen and the time, the battery hanging onto dear life with a 1%. He moved to grab his charger, his eyes still trained on the incoming notifications that would soon flood his home screen, not really expecting much aside from the emails entailing rubbish deals or the occasional spam from a porn site he'd signed up to as a teen and hadn't been able to delete.
Instead, he was bombarded with over a thousand notifications at once, all from the same unknown number, the messages going too quickly for his tired eyes, focusing on the random words he was able to take from the rapidly passing texts.
Answer.
Ignoring.
Asshole.
Appointment.
Doctor.
Pub.
Baby.
Pregnancy.
‍‍
His mind blocked itself off as he processed the last word, trying to make sense of all the confusing messages that had been sent to his phone.
Had it been by accident? Was he the recipient of some prank? Had he unknowingly given out his number to someo-
You.
Simon's throat went dry as the realisation dawned on him. Without sparing another second, he unlocked his phone, clicking onto the notifications and scrolling down as fast he could while still intaking information, afraid that his phone would die out at any point in time and render him utterly confused and terrified.
His body went on autopilot the more he read, brain fuzzy as if he had just drank a whole bottle of hard-hitting liquor, his eyes fixed on the bright screen of his phone in terror.
He was in shock. His mind wasn't in the right state to process any of this, he wasn't able to properly begin to fathom the meaning behind your words, as simple as they were.
— I'm pregnant.
— I'm fucking pregnant, Simon.
— I don't know how it happened, the chances of the pill failing are so fucking low, and of course it happened to us.
— Please pick up.
— I know you're getting the messages.
— The doctor told me it's too dangerous to perform the abortion.
— I have to keep it or risk my life.
— I need you to answer, Simon. Please, I just need to know that you're there.
— I'm scared.
— You're such an asshole, you know that, right?! Fucking gave me your number only to disappear? Left me pregnant with your bloody kid!? And you can't even bother to pick up the goddamn phone.
— Fuck you.
— …
— It's a boy. Thought you'd want to know.
— My due date is in a month. Please… call me, if you're even reading these. I don't want to be alone.
The phone flashed the low power message in hopes that Simon would take mercy on it and finally plug it in, but Simon paid it no mind, clear eyes staring down at the picture you'd attached during one of the first months of your pregnancy.
The blurry picture of an ecography staring back at him disproved any doubts that might have formed in his mind, your full name displayed at the bottom along with the date it was taken, solidifying the fact even more.
It was real. This was real. You'd been carrying his son for 9 months, sending him frantic and terrified messages all throughout the three trimesters in hopes that he'd answer, all the while he had forgotten all about you in the midst of his mission, while you probably didn't spend a single day of that year not thinking about him.
His phone went dark once it finally had enough, leaving him standing there with a dry throat and shaky hands.
It was rare for Ghost to feel fear, but not for Simon. His throat would contract with every breath, his nose would sting as tears threatened to form on his waterline, his hands would get shaky until he balled them up and threw a punch into whatever item was closest.
This time wasn't any different. He punched his locker door, denting the metal effortlessly as he tried to wash away the fear and guilt creeping up to him with the pain that bloomed at his knuckles, that ran up his arms like electric shocks until they went numb.
He was an asshole.
Simon knew that it wasn't his fault that the mission had been extended for way too long, but he kept thinking back to the moment he'd placed his number on your fridge, wondering what would have happened if he'd done the smart thing and added that he'd be unavailable for a while, but that he'd get back to you. Maybe you would have been less scared while going through the pregnancy, comforted by the thought that he hadn't been ignoring you, but he knew that even then, you would have gone through it alone and terrified.
"I'm an asshole."
He rested his head against the dented locker, the cool metal soothing the headache that had quickly formed after all the conflicting feelings that had rushed through him in the matter of a minute.
All he had wanted was to go back home and rest, but fuck him if he was going to be able to even close his eyes after learning he was a father.
He packed everything up as quickly as he could, not bothering to say goodbye or join the other three for a drink at a pub, heading to his car so he could get the fuck out of London and back to Manchester, where he prayed you still lived, in that tiny flat near that dingy pub where he had first laid eyes on you in.
As his gloved hands gripped the steering wheel hard enough to turn his knuckles white, a terrifying thought struck him.
Who's to say you had even kept the baby?
Who's to say you couldn't bear to look at the baby, that you'd given him away to a way more functional family?
The thought inflicted fear in him, a type of fear he didn't know if he should be feeling or not, confused with all the unpleasant emotions swirling inside of him.
"God, fuck!" He slammed his hands onto the steering wheel, the roar he had let out no doubt scaring any civilian that had been walking near his car at the time, but he couldn't care less.
All that was important now was getting back to you, to what he hoped was still the mother of his son.
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Happy giggles and gurgles filled the living room, your tiny baby outstretching his arms out as you cycled his legs slowly, making silly faces down at him to keep him distracted.
Your doctor had recommended small exercises like these, some that would help develop his future motor skills, but you'd found that Tommy was a curious baby, one that couldn't stay still for longer than five minutes before he was whining and huffing in a futile attempt to get your attention and hopefully release him from his tiny prison; and so, in order to keep him focused, you resorted to having leisured conversations with him, your small son hanging onto your every word with wide blue eyes and a gaping mouth, as if he could understand your frustrations with the man who had blocked your car off and the girl from the bakery that had gotten your order wrong, or making silly faces at him to hear him giggle with glee.
You placed his small feet down and went back to your resting face, his eyes instantly going from your face to the closest toy, small chubby arm reaching out to grab it, your fingers running over his tummy and getting out a few giggles out of him before he finally grasped the toy, pressing it into his side.
As he distracted himself, you let yourself sit down properly, back hitting the edge of the sofa as you watched your son roll around on the blanket you'd laid down, letting yourself look up at the TV for a moment to have a small break, the news reporter standing in front of Big Ben ranting about some resolved political dispute or something.
Your eyes trailed back down to your son, who was wriggling around with a new toy in his grasp, cooing and drooling as he stared up at the ceiling, blue eyes fixed on one of the many cracks in the ceiling.
You winced at the not so friendly reminder of the state your flat was in. Going through a pregnancy on your own without any help and barely any money to take care of yourself left your home in a condition you were not proud of. You'd tried your best to clean and make the nursery as cosy as possible, but at the end of your third trimester you could barely lean down to pick up the hoover. Once you had been allowed back home, you'd cleaned up, but you couldn't really do much to fix the poor way your building had been constructed.
A sigh left your lips, leaning down to rest your head against your knees with closed eyes, giving yourself a few moments of sacred rest, something you seldom got anymore those days.
Sometimes, you thought as you wrapped your arms around your legs, you wished you weren't alone. As much hate you had harboured for your son's father across the year, you couldn't help the longing that still filled you every time you thought about him, wondering if you'd ever see him again, if he'd ever hold his son in his arms.
Frustrated tears filled the corners of your eyes, wiping them away with your sleeves before turning your attention back to your son, who was now squirming in his spot making grabby hands at you.
"I've got you, duck, don't worry." You cooed, picking him up and pressing a few kisses to his chubby cheeks, cradling him to your chest as you got up from the floor, careful to not drop him or bump him into anything.
As you took him back to his room, routinely changing his diaper and clothes, you thought back to the small breakdown you almost had had a few minutes ago, letting out an exhausted sigh. There was no use in imagining a future where Simon fit in, you'd given him enough time to answer, to show any signs of life at all. You were alone.
You were on the verge of tears as you placed Tommy in his tiny crib, handing him the small duck plushie your grandma had knitted a few months back when she had come to visit, watching him cling onto it in his sleep for a few moments, his soft breaths and coos tranquillising the waves of anxiety threatening to drown you.
"Good night, Tom." You whispered, pressing a kiss to his chubby cheek before flicking on the night light, carefully closing the door and resting your body against it, a shaky sigh leaving your chapped lips.
God, you were pathetic. Hung up over a man who you'd only known for a few hours, who'd left you with a baby (unknowingly or not, didn't matter), who still haunted your dreams every time you tried to get some rest. Why couldn't he have just picked up the phone? Why had he just given you his fucking number if he wasn't bothering on answering? Why had he gotten into your head so easily, with his sweet nicknames and soft kisses? Why couldn't you just fucking mov-
Your whole body jumped as the shrill doorbell rang, the sound reverberating around the flat and no doubt reaching Tommy's sensitive ears.
"God, yeah, I hear it!" You cried out as the sound didn't stop, starting to get worried that it would wake your baby up and then you'd have to deal with putting him to sleep all over again. "Fuck! I know, I'm coming!"
You looked through the peephole, eyebrows furrowing as you gazed upon a man's tacky army jacket instead of the normal face, so either this guy was incredibly fucking tall or he was standing on a stool.
Knowing that the area you lived in wasn't the safest, you unlocked the door but kept the chain latch on, a gap big enough so you could see the guy outside but not big enough for him to attack you.
"What?" You snapped, a bit harsher than how you'd normally answer the door, but this guy didn't really deserve any respect after how he'd basically abused your doorbell to the point of the sound still ringing in your ears. "What do you-"
Your gaze had been fixed onto his chest, scanning the army jacket you had spied through the peephole, cringing internally at the Union Jack plastered on his left bicep, hoping to God that he wasn't some type of Tory propagandist going door to door. But as your eyes trailed up to meet his, your mouth went dry.
Crystal blue eyes framed by pretty blonde eyelashes (identical to the blue eyes your son had been staring up at you with for the past three months), contrasting with the black face paint that was smeared around his eyes, the rest of his face obscured by that damn skull balaclava that haunted you.
It was him. It was fucking him.
"Simon." You said his name breathlessly, not missing the way his body stiffened at your shaky tone.
"Yeah. It's me."
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azrielwingspan · 30 days
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'HIGH' PRAISE (AZRIEL X READER)
I am on a roll damn. Another idea that I jotted down as quick as I could. Enjoy !!
Summary: Mirthroot and alcohol can work in your favour sometimes. You have a very interesting conversation with Azriel.
Warnings : Mention of substances, mild swearing. MDNI !
"You are a saviour Y/N." Mor said taking a hit from the mirthroot joint. The party was in full swing downstairs but you and Mor had found solace in her balcony.
"Don't thank me. Thank the male who was nice enough to give it up." you said taking your turn.
The lightness in your head was making you giddy and talkative. You could feel the slight tingle at your nerve ends, you body feeling detached from reality.
"He probably wanted to get into your pants."
"I know."
Mor let out a bark of laughter at that statement and leaned back against the wall. Her eyes had taken on a reddish tinge and you were sure that yours were probably worse. Your mouth felt numb and you smacked your lips cringing at the dryness of your mouth.
"I need something to drink. And eat. Chocolate cake sounds good. Chocolate cake with a side of yoghurt sounds even better. Add some good wine to it. What do you think?" your mind was moving too fast for your mouth to catch up to.
"It sounds terrible. Let's do it." You and Mor giggled clutching each others hands. That was some really strong mirthroot.
You made your way back to the party hyper focusing on every step being taken. Being high and face planting did not seem like a good combination. Your brain was a different entity, screaming at you to act normal. It was a party for fucks sake. Who acts normal anyways?
Grabbing Mor's hand , the both of you made your way over to the drinks table dodging your way through familiar faces. You refused to speak to anyone until you got your hands on the wine.
After chugging down half a bottle to quench your thirst, you noticed Azriel sitting with another male chatting about something.
"Mor."
"Yeah?"
"I think Azriel and I would make a fantastic couple."
The shattering of glass snapped you out of your hyper focused state for a beat.
It wasn't Mor.
Oh.
Back to hyper focused state.
"You would." she responded , a completely serious expression gracing her face.
"Should we tell him?" you asked, an illegal amount of bravery shooting through your veins. Not a single cell in your body thought this was a bad idea.
A new wave of idiocy hit you. The effects of the wine and mirthroot combined were doing wonders for your sanity right now.
"We should. Come on." This time, Mor was the one dragging you through the crowd, once again dodging everyone.
"Az!"
He turned to look at Mor, his own slightly glazed from the amount of alcohol he had consumed.
"Y/N thinks---"
The male that was speaking to Azriel stood up and interrupted Mor, asking for a dance. Immediately forgetting why she was there, Mor walked away with him leaving you with Azriel.
"What do you think?" Az asked, his voice husky. Ugh, it was doing strange things to you.
"I think---"
"Are you high?" Az asked, holding in his laugh.
"Az you idiot. You never ask someone who's high if they're high. Way to ruin it!"
"Okay my bad. Sorry. Come here."
He motioned to the space next to him on the couch.
"No. No. I have chocolate cake plans. I just wanted to let you know that I think...and Mor thinks as well...that we would make a fantastic couple. I mean look at you. Look at me. Stunners. Jaw droppingly good looking. What's stopping us?"
Az looked thoroughly amused as you continued defending your statement.
"Y/N." he said stopping you before you went off on a different tangent. "Come here." This time he motioned to his lap.
Yeah chocolate cake could wait.
You went over and sat down sideways on his lap, wrapping you arms around his shoulders while his hands found their place on your hips.
"Tomorrow, I want you to come to me and tell me the same thing. Then we'll see how well this fantastic couple thing works out yeah?"
He touched his forehead to yours , the affectionate gesture bringing a grin to your face.
"Okay."
"Good girl. Now come on let's get you some chocolate cake."
"Fantastic."
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thoughtsforsoob · 3 months
Text
when you’re sick - txt
A/n: I didn’t get sick during this break and thats not good because I’m gonna end up getting sick at school :p I hate being sick at school because I have to take care of myself and try to avoid getting my roomie sick :((( poor roomie. Anyways, please enjoy this! If you’re sick right now, please drink lots of warm tea, water and make sure to eat enough okay? Requests are always open!
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Yeonjun
clingy clingy clingy
he's such a sweetheart
he's also one who will baby you 100%
"aww, my baby is sickie hmmm?" in the sweetest voice ever
he makes sure you stay in bed and scolds you if you try to get up and do anything
omg don't even try doing chores, he's gonna kick your ass
he drags you right back to bed, tucks you in as tight as a burrito and turns on the tv so you won't leave again
he makes sure everything is taken care of before he gets to work! he doesn't want his girl to worry.
Soobin
this big guy
he snuggles up to you and refuses to leave your side
he's your own personal heater and he helps you stay warm
when you try to make him leave so he doesn't get sick, he pouts and does his best aegyo (he want's to die deep inside when he does the aegyo but if it means you'll listen to him, he'll do it 100 times)
you finally give in and he holds you tight
he orders your favorite food for you so neither of you have to worry about cooking and orders you your favorite drink
Beomgyu
clingy part2 + annoying (in the most endearing way possible)
he is so sweet through and he means well
he will make sure you're tucked into bed and he will do his best to entertain you
literally stands in front of you and puts on a show, dancing and singing for you and being silly to make you laugh and forget how much it hurts being sick
he also loves to make fun on you and then snuggle you right after
"ew! you're gonna spread your disease to me! oh baby...no! im just kidding! come here!"
Taehyun
he doesn't want to get sick so he tries to keep his distance from you
when you tell him you're sick, he immediately starts to gather things you might need
this sweetheart will get you some presents to in order to keep you busy and happy
homebody shows up with a new Nintendo switch, AirPods, etc...
all casually he's like, "here baby, have fun. I know I can't keep you much company but I wanted to help at least"
you're crying because he's so kind and he take this chances and hugs you, giving you only 1 kiss...
eventually caves and gives you more kisses
Huening Kai
This boy is an absolute angel
when you swat him away to not get him sick also, he whines and gets even closer to you
he knows you really want him to be around
aka: he asked his sisters what he should do and they help him make you a little get well kit
it has homemade soup, sweets (chocolate), yummy drinks/tea bags, and a cute new mug for your drink!
he brings it to you and serves you soup in a cute bowl and makes you tea for you!
he just wants to be close and take care of you!
ps: he brings you a plushie from his collection to keep you company when he can't be with you
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01zfan · 1 month
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hello anton | l. at
boyfriend!anton x fem. reader | 7.6k words
i recommend listening to n side by steve lacy when reading this! a mix of two requests that i felt were kinda the same :3
contains: anton gets a lil messy! protected sex (yassss), nothing else i can really think of.
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“oh my god.” anton said breathlessly.
anton can barely take in the sight of you underneath him. anton sees your body that’s shiny from sweat move in tandem with his thrusts amd he watches your mouth slightly open while you moan. anton sees you take all of him, and he can feel it too. anton can see the way your chest heaves, each shaking breath in brings your boobs closer to his face and each time you exhale it ends with a tiny whine. your shy eyes flicker between where anton slides into you to his flushed face. anton gets high off the fact that you can only focus on his eyes for a moment before looking away, letting your head lean over the edge of the bed as you try to gather yourself.
the view you and anton make is mesmerizing. he just wishes it wasn’t so blurry.
anton blames it on his lack of preparation for the night. you two meticulously planned every aspect of the day, determined to finally be alone. there were some surprises along the way, like you showing up to anton’s door with hello kitty pajamas and your plushies in an extra bag. that was a minor bump in the road, anton knew it came with the territory of dating someone so cute. neither of you could deny that the plushies were a bit egregious, but it was something you said you couldn’t sleep without. anton wanted you to be as comfortable as possible, so he helped you take out all your plushies to lay them on his bed. it wasn’t an inconvenience to anton at all. what truly inconvenienced anton was the fact that he ran out of contacts and completely forgot to replenish his supply. it was unlike him to forget something so important; it was fair to say you distracted him.
so now anton had no choice but to look at your naked body through the fogging lenses of his glasses. he could’ve taken them off—they were half way down his nose threatening to slip off anyway. but anton had to have a clear view of you for your first time together. after you guys spent all week making sure everything fell in place for you to be together alone in his apartment he wouldn’t settle for anything less.
your planning started on saturday. usually early morning was when you guys were alone so you two knew you didn’t have time to waste. the moment you heard the door close you wasted no time getting on top of your boyfriend to straddle his hips. while you felt his body anton’s hands roamed frantically, lifting your shirt and cupping your chest over your bra. 
you moaned into anton’s mouth each time he gave you a gentle squeeze. you let your head fall back with a sigh, catching a glimpse of the show on anton’s macbook before bringing your focus back to him. in moments like these you couldn’t get many words out, anything in your mind being replaced with the thought of someone coming in and interrupting you guys. you spoke to anton through actions and the way you pressed your hips close to his told him you needed more. 
anton took the initiative to guide your back to his couch, slotting himself between your legs as he continued to kiss you. his grip on your chest only tightened when you wrapped your leg around his waist to pull his legs closer. anton left your lips to focus on your neck, breathing so heavy the sound of his huffs crackled in your ears. anton sucked and nibbled on the skin of your neck and your hand moved to the armrest of the couch to steady yourself. your other hand went to the back of anton’s head to press him deeper into your neck. you let him suck harder and you could feel his teeth indent your skin. when he bit down slightly you pulled away from him to see his glossy lips and blown out eyes.
“take your shirt off anton.” you whimpered.
immediately anton heeded your request, leaning back to lift his shirt over his head. 
before he could even put his hands on the bottom hem of his shirt, the door opened. you let out a sound of surprise and so did anton, his body whipping around to see who came through the door. you quickly got up from the couch too, pulling yourself from under anton to peer over the top of the sofa. 
sohee stood in the doorway, only frozen for a second before realizing the scene before him. after seeing you and anton’s position on the couch he rolled his eyes before walking fully into the room.
“you two are disgusting.” sohee murmured. 
sohee set his bag on his desk next to the door as he went to get on his computer. you and anton fixed your appearances and you cleared your throat.
“we weren’t doing anything.” anton said shyly. 
“yeah okay.” sohee scoffed while putting on his gaming headset.
“also you couldn’t knock?” anton said.
“it’s like eight in the morning. i thought you two would be asleep still.” sohee said.
this was a common occurrence when coming to the dorms. it was almost impossible to get a moment alone with anton, always getting interrupted right as things started to get really interesting. more times than you could count you and anton would be in the heat of the moment and have someone come through the door, or a guilty conscious would stop you from taking things further. 
there was a day when the two of you were locked away in anton’s room while sohee was in some classroom taking a test. making out was your favorite thing to do with anton when sohee wasn’t there, but sungchan being in the shared space of the apartment stopped you guys from going any further. you can’t say you didn’t try, but when you let your hand drift downwards anton held your wrist.
“i can’t focus while sungchan is right outside.” anton said quietly.
“he’s probably back in his room.” you whispered to him.
you made a feeble attempt to fight against his grip, smiling at the fact that anton was barely exerted any strength. despite anton having a hold on you and the upper hand in the situation, he became a blushing mess purely at the thought of being walked in on. even when you took off your shirt to entice him he would only look entranced for a moment before bashfully shaking his head.
“you look amazing, but i can’t. i’m sorry.” anton said, blush creeping across his face.
you understood anton’s reservations, but you wanted nothing more than to go all the way. it seemed like you two were destined for a relationship filled with heavy petting and interrupted make out sessions. it seemed like this situation had happened too much, with both of you hot and bothered on the couch while sohee was sitting on his computer.
“there’s food outside by the way.” sohee said.
you and anton left the room while sohee had his headset on. you shot sohee your meanest glare, sohee only rolled his eyes before focusing on the game. 
it was embarrassing being caught by sohee, but it was not nearly as bad as anton’s other roommates in the kitchen. they pulled themselves away from their food solely to tease you guys as you emerged from anton’s room. anton’s face was beet red by the time they were done asking their prodding questions and making jokes.
“what were you two doing in there with the door closed?” eunseok asked obnoxiously.
anton had to just lower his head while you laughed all of the comments off. it wasn’t until seunghan said something about making a big car fit into a small garage that you were stunned into silence. you were able to get out of the situation after that, saying you had a class to go to. anton nodded his head a little too quickly when you asked him to take you, extremely happy to get out of his current situation.
on the walk to your class you guys started planning how to be alone in his apartment. it worked out perfectly, convincing sungchan to throw a party at the place he shared with shotaro. all you had to bring up was an important game on campus and the rest was like clockwork. the hardest part of the plan was trying to get sohee to go. after anton groveled and promised to help him with his composing assignment he folded. 
the planning and devising led to the moment of you knocking on anton’s door, overnight bag and duffle in hand. you smiled big when anton opened the door, nodding to show you your grand scheme worked. you hugged and jumped into his arms. anton smiled from ear to ear at your excitement, closing your door while you were jumping.
anton took your bags and kissed your forehead, walking over to his room. you followed behind anton buzzing with every emotion, excited for what the night had in store for you both. 
it hit anton a little differently, he was suddenly nervous at what could potentially happen tonight. what if someone came in while you two were together? what if anton wasn’t good enough for you? anton turns around and looks at you, stuffing his hands nervously in his sweatpants. he sees you look him up and down, pointing at your duffle bag. anton hands it to you and you squat to the floor to open it.
“i have something for you. well for us.” you laugh.
anton peaks into your bag and sees all of your plushies, then anton sees you reach into the depths and pull out a matching pajama set for the two of you. 
anton sighed heavily at the matching hello kitty pajama set just to see your reaction. you still had a big smile on your face when you handed anton his set. when he looked a little hesitant all you had to do was slightly pout your lips and look crestfallen before he took the pajamas from your hands wordlessly. he changed into his set quickly, feeling ridiculous in the cute pajamas until he saw your large smile. anton almost thought it was embarrassing how willingly he’d do anything for you just to see you happy. anton followed your smile all the way to his bedroom, trailing behind you with your overnight bag and duffle bag.
you and anton set up your plushies on his bed, turning them away from your body so you could change. anton sat on the edge of his bed watching you too, not even trying to hide it. he debated on holding one of your hello kitty plushies in his lap to cover her eyes like he did when he was at your apartment. but when you took off your shirt anton forgot what he was thinking about completely. his hands instinctively went to his eyes like he hasn’t seen you naked countless times. when anton peaked at you through open cracks in his fingers you both laughed. 
when you were all dressed anton put his hands down, a light blush started to spread across his cheeks. you imagined you felt the same as him in this moment, your face becoming so warm it was almost uncomfortable. you gave anton a little twirl, laughing about how the pajama set was just a size too big. the sleeves hung past your hands and the waistband was loose on your waist. anton’s ears started to become a light red when you lifted your hand to let the loose sleeve drop to your elbow. anton gives you a big smile, one that lifts his glasses slightly on his face.
“you look cute.” anton said.
anton held out his hand to you and you came closer to him. you let anton put his hand on your waist, acting as your impromptu human belt. he doesn’t know why his hand gravitates to the dip on your body, resting there whenever he gets the chance. you like it though, because anton’s neck was like a magnet for your hands. on the rare occasion you got the chance to clasp your hands behind anton’s neck you took it. so you come closer to your boyfriend as he sits on the edge of his bed and put your hands on the base of his neck. anton has to tilt his head upwards to look at you, his large frames helps him take you all in.
“we look cute,” you bend down to kiss anton’s forehead. “we look super cute actually.” you say.
you started messing with the stitching of anton’s shirt. it as soft underneath your fingertips, and felt just textured enough to distract yourself from looking at anton for too long. standing above him in between his legs makes you feel jittery. anton pushed his glasses up his nose bridge with the hand that wasn’t on your hips and sighed contently. when he leaned his head against your hand, you had no choice but to look at him.
 “how many times have we been able to be alone?” anton asked.
he spoke to you but his mind seemed like it was somewhere else. his thumb mindlessly rubbed your waist, causing the extra fabric of your shirt to fold underneath his finger. you tried to recall the times you two have been completely alone and it was a struggle. even at your own apartment you lived with roommates and the apartment’s dog. the only time you could think was on a date, but even then it wasn’t completely private. study dates were in the public library and movie dates were always in packed theaters. 
“less than what i can count on my hand.” you answered.
maybe that’s why you were so nervous. it was hard to imagine what it would be like being truly alone with anton, if he would change knowing that you two couldn’t be interrupted.
anton sighed and you understood why. maybe you two would eventually move out soon so you could spend the rest of your days together. but that was a conversation for later. right now you wanted to focus on the finite amount of alone time you had with your boyfriend. almost instantly it was like a switch had been flipped, the unresolved tension between you two filled the room. anton’s other hand came to your hip and he held you there in place. his words bobbed in his throat like his adam’s apple and you saw anton swallow twice before you made your own move. 
you looked at anton with your most unassuming expression when you clasped your hands behind his neck and moved to sit on his lap. you couldn’t bare to say what you were doing out loud so you were happy anton got the hint. he opened his legs enough for your legs to rest between them. anton clasped his hands on your waist and smiled as you sat on his thigh.
anton looked up at you with shining eyes and you unclasped your hands to move some hair from his face. you let your hand rest on his shoulder, using the socket joint like a stress ball. when anton looked at you a certain way you subconsciously squeezed him.
“are you nervous?” anton asked.
you wish you were nervous. you have always been nervous, to the point that you knew how to handle it. when you felt the nerves building up and got so bad to the point where you couldn’t think, you knew what to do. you learned breathing exercises and counting things until your breathing steadied and you stopped shaking. but this was something you didn’t know how to manage. it started wherever you touched anton and blossomed around your whole body, feeling like a million ants were on you. it was going to consume you whole if you didn’t do something about it soon.
anton’s hand that was on your waist had found a way to sneak underneath your shirt and rest on your bare stomach. seeing your boyfriend in glasses was arguably an even bigger distraction. the way he kept constantly pushing the glasses up his nose bridge had you thinking things that left your whole body feeling hot. anton was no better, lifting the fabric of your shirt as an excuse to clean his lenses. you settled further on anton’s lap and enjoyed feeling him get tense underneath you. you liked teasing him the same way he teased you, trying to get a rise out of him.
it was a challenge for anton to not be tense, especially with you on him like this. he had a perfect view of your whole body and he could see you practically swimming in your oversized pajamas. he wonders if you purposely bought your sets to be the same size just so you both could revel in the difference. anton’s eyes kept going to his hand that was pressed against your stomach, a faint outline showing through your shirt. he tried to be subtle when let his hand drift a little lower to the waistband of your pants. anton’s middle and ring finger finds their way underneath the elastic, the rest of his fingers rest on the outside of your pants. 
you looked up at anton from underneath his chin, smiling at him trying to be inconspicuous. you bring anton in for a kiss and he reciprocates. the hand that isn’t drifting further into your pajama pants wraps around your body to give you stability. feeling anton’s hand on your shoulder makes you desperate, you push your face further into his with your quick kisses, and anton takes it all. with each push he pushes back and you think he might be just as desperate as you are. 
all of your plushies watch as you kiss anton all the way down to the bed, pushing up from him to stand up. anton gets on his elbows to watch you take off your ridiculously large pajama shirt, throwing it on the ground. anton follows your lead and takes off his shirt with one hand. he sets it on the bed next to him over a cluster of your hello kitty memorabilia.
anton fully gets on the bed and you get on after, maneuvering until you hover over him. it’s almost awkward, not knowing what to do next. you two have spent so much time trying to get to this moment you never stopped to think what comes after. you look at his eyes past his frames, how he pushes them up and lets his hand go to your waist. you kiss his lips again, and you can feel the cool frames of his glasses press against your nose. 
you both find your rhythm again together. like when you were sitting on his lap, anton cups your heat again. you straddle anton’s legs to give his hand that’s in your pants more room to work with and he presses two fingers against your covered slit experimentally. you nod your head and pause kissing him, too distracted by the sudden feeling. anton loves being the reason why you lose your train of thought and he loves being able to see it in real time. he presses his fingers harder, feeling the fabric stick to your folds. 
“can i—” anton asks.
“yes please.” you answer. 
anton puts his hand into your panties teasing your clit with his index and middle finger. you continue to kiss anton as he runs his finger through your folds. anton runs his fingers up and down repeatedly, letting your slick gather on his fingers. you start taking the lead on kissing, tilting anton’s face with your hands to put your tongue into his mouth. he moans and opens his mouth wider. you occasionally let your eyes open for a split second, to see anton’s glasses fog up and the way his lips move with yours. 
when anton puts two fingers inside of you, you lose the beat of kissing anton. you two had been in this position many times before, with anton finger fucking you while you squirmed above him and each time it was the same. you would go into it determined to keep up with his speed, and not lose your mind while kissing him. but it was no use—you were kissing him back a beat too late, and interrupting his tongue in your mouth with little whines. you were so distracted by the feeling of him inside of you that you had to abandon kissing him completely. you retreated from anton’s lips and put your face in the crook of his neck, panting right into his ear. he loved hearing you get desperate and feeling you push your hips back to meet his hand. 
anton’s arm across your back kept you in place and his legs kept yours spread. anton knew you had a habit of closing in on yourself like a supernova when you were close, evident in the countless times he’s fingered you before. he’s had to keep a hand on your thighs many times using gentle force to keep you from locking his hand in place. but anton had to admit he had gotten a little carried away in this position. when anton lifted his head to look down he saw that part you were spread the farthest he’s ever seen you. even as you were straddling him, anton had spread his own legs to keep yours even further apart. anton felt no resistance as he plunged his fingers in and out of you. it actually felt like your hole was pathetically trying to keep his fingers inside of you, pulsing around his digits like a heartbeat. anton saw it all, the way your legs bent and twitched as you got closer. anton could barely make out where your legs ended and his began, the matching pajama set throwing him off in the best way possible. 
when you pressed your hips to anton’s straining dick he groaned. you looked up from his neck to see his adam’s apple bob in his throat and how he pressed his head into his mattress. you pressed your hips against his again to try and illicit the same reaction. anton looked at your through his big frames. they were falling down his nose and you used a shaky hand to push them back up. anton smiled and stuck his fingers into you deeper, bending them at the knuckle. your head went back into your boyfriend’s neck and he cranes his neck to kiss your temple.
“thank you baby.” anton said.
you tried to say you’re welcome but it turned into a whimper. anton didn’t stop, his hand drifting down to grab a handful of your ass. you whimpered again feeling anton knead your supple skin. you couldn’t stop yourself from digging your fingers into the skin of his shoulder. the same way he was leaving a handprint on your ass you were leaving crescent moons on anton’s shoulder. he picked up the pace of his fingers and you couldn’t stop squirming. you felt the you started slowly losing your mind, trying to parts of anton to hold on to.
“you’re close, right?” anton asked.
you pick your head up from the crook of anton’s neck to look at his face. you nod your head like anton didn’t already know. your heart thuds in your ribcage and you’re certain anton can feel the beat against his sweaty chest. you nod your head pitifully when anton increases his pace.
“yeah” you whined.
“hold onto my arm.” anton said.
instantly you reached your hand behind you back to grab anton’s arm. you flail a couple times, grasping at nothing until you put your hand over anton’s the rests on your ass. anton lets go of your ass to grab your hand, pushing down so your stomach presses into his hard dick. you try your best to push your body down on your own accord but you can’t control yourself. all you can focus on is the way anton’s fingers bend and pump in and out of you. you let anton use his strength to press your body against him, loving the feeling of him twitching against your stomach. 
you clench around anton’s three fingers and hold his hand tightly. the orgasm is white and hot and you take it out on anton’s neck, biting and sucking his skin in effort to bring anton pleasure too. he notices your attempt and sighs contently feeling your tongue on his skin.
“just like that.” you whine in between kisses.
anton nods and keeps thrusting his fingers into you. the sound fills your room, even anton makes sounds of surprise as he feels how wet your are. he doesn’t stop until you are a shaking mess on top of him. you use the last of your strength to pull yourself from anton’s neck to see his face. he looks down at you over the top rim of his glasses. your body turns to jelly on top of him, resting your head on his while he slows down his fingers. your moans become high pitched and airy. 
by the time anton pulls his fingers from your heat you drooled onto his chest and your body almost feels numb. anton kisses the top of your head and you sigh, chest still heaving. you rest your head over anton’s heart and hear that his beat matches yours. it reverbs in your ear as you steady your breathing, and anton rubs you back in an effort to bring you back to earth.
you roll off of anton towards the edge of the bed when your breathing finally settles. you’re right next to the cluster f your plushies that anton covered with his shirt. anton turns to face you, propped up on his elbow as he places a hand on your stomach. he rubs the skin there and he can feel the muscles in your stomach tense. you’re so sensitive and nearly jumpy from his touches but anton can still see that hungry look in your eye. he pushes his frames up one more time and darts out his tongue to wet his lips. 
“are you okay?” anton asks. 
“yeah.” you answer.
anton’s fingers trace shapes over your abdomen. he only adds a little pressure behind his touches occasionally, just to gauge your sensitivity. your body doesn’t let you calm down. when you remember you’re truly alone in this apartment the same antsy feeling returns over your body. anticipation builds underneath your skin and in between your legs. the anticipation makes you put your hands over anton’s that rests on your stomach. you nod and pull his body towards you, trying to silently show anton you want him to get on top of you. he obliges, clambering over your body to hover over yours.
anton goes from his elbow to his palm to get a better view of you. he liked this angle better, this way he would be able to see your expressions quickly and see what you were looking at. he could see clearly from up here that you couldn’t really manage to look at him to too long, your eyes drifting to his nose or shoulder every so often.
“is this okay?” anton asked.
you nod and moved your legs, giving space for anton to slot himself between your legs. he watches your expression behind his glasses as he experimentally presses his bulge into your clothed heat. you sigh and nod your head vigorously. 
“i need you so bad anton.” you whine.
it’s frustrating how many layers of clothes separate you from anton. you pull down your pajama pants and ruined panties in one go. you don’t bother taking them off all the way before lifting your feet to push anton’s waistband down. you have never been this impatient in your life, but you feel like you may burst into flames if you don’t quell the fire that has been building up to this moment.
anton goes back on his haunches, putting a hand on your bent knee.
“i’ll be right back.” anton says before getting off the bed completely. 
you watch him walk over to his dresser and you finish taking off your bottoms, leaving you completely naked on his bed. the air in anton’s room is cold and you let your knees come together to hide your bare center. 
anton comes back to the side of the bed quickly, holding two condoms and a completely full bottle of lube. it makes your face a little hot, knowing the condoms and lube you two bought together was about to be put to use. anton feels it too, his face already dusted with blush. he awkwardly bends down to put the things in the crater of his sweater that still lays on his bed. 
you start thinking about your plushies that lay underneath anton’s sweater only for a moment before you see anton pull his pajama pants down. he’s left in just his boxers, standing on the edge of the bed looking down at you. you sit up and let your legs drape over the edge of the bed. you look up at anton and let your shaky hands go to his waistband. before you can pull his boxers down, he puts his hand over yours.
“are you sure?” anton asks.
“yes,” you nod your head. “are you?” you ask.
anton nods and puts his hands on his waistband next to yours. you two work together to take off his boxers together, his dick springing free. it bobs in the air, so close to your face if you stuck out your tongue you’re sure you be able to taste him. you reach out your hand and wrap it around the base of anton’s dick. it never ceases to amaze you how it’s so heavy and big but still sticks straight forward. you are also driven by the light sighs and gasps of anton when you drag your hand down his length. it glides easily, from all the precum that beads at his tip. you stick out your tongue and anton puts a hand on your shoulder to stop you.
“i won’t last,” anton gently pushes your shoulders back until you lay down on the bed. he positions himself between you and the wall once you’re down. “and i’ve waited so long.” he says.
you nod and put your body at an angle to try and give anton more room. his body is large and awkward as he figures out the best position for both of your bodies. you two end up laying diagonally on the bed, with anton on his haunches slotted between your legs. you reach behind you blindly to feel around for the foil packet. when it’s in your hands you give it to anton, propping yourself on your elbows to watch him.
anton is gentle ripping the foil packet, putting the trash on top of his pile of clothes. you feel lightheaded seeing anton put the condom on himself. you can see his abs flexing and his dick twitching from the stimulation. you think about how anton touches himself when you aren’t around, if he throws his head back the same way he does when you give him a handjob. you have to stop yourself from asking him to touch himself and you bend your legs, spreading them more for anton. he pinches the tip of the condom to make sure it’s secure before coming to you. 
one of his hands is beside your head when comes down to kiss your lips. you reciprocate, reaching a hand between your two bodies to stroke his dick. he sighs against your lips before replacing his hand with yours. you both look down, the weight of what is about to happen starts sinking in. you start to realize how big anton truly is as he hovers above you. you wonder if he’ll be able to fit when he lets his tip prod at your slit. anton kisses your cheek when he looks down at you again. 
“tell me if it’s too much, okay?” anton says, pushing up his glasses.
anton intertwines his fingers with yours and kisses your knuckles as he lines himself up. he’s so big above you and the position you’re currently in only makes you feel smaller. your nose touches his adam’s apple as he kisses your forehead and slowly pushes himself in.
you both gasp when anton puts his tip in. you feel the stretch and anton feels your walls clenching around him as he slides further in. you clench around him in uneven intervals, your pussy desperately trying to get use to the stretch. your squeeze anton’s hand as he sinks further in, and it’s his turn to go into the crook of your neck as he tries to compose himself.  he curses into your soft and sweaty skin, kissing the skin there to try and soothe you.
“you’re so big.” you whine.
anton doesn’t know if you meant to say it out loud, your thoughts coming out without a filter. regardless, he can feel his dick twitch from you words and the way you whimper while taking him. he’s happy he was able to finger you and the extra lubrication of your previous orgasm helps anton fit inside of you snuggly. each time anton curses in your ear or gives you praise he can feel your walls closing in on him. you become a mess underneath him when he bottoms out, feeling like a heartbeat around his length. you finally open your eyes and move a hand to his shoulder, lifting him from the crook of your neck. you have to readjust his glasses for him, and there’s fog from the hot air radiating from your skin.
“keep going anton.” you say.
anton looks down at you then to your plushies that are covered up by his shirt. he pulls out all the way before sliding back in just as slow. he giggles a little bit and your eyebrows furrow in confusion, mind partially occupied by the feeling of anton easing back into you.
“good thing they’re not watching.” anton said quietly.
you wanted to retort but you couldn’t when you felt his hips kiss yours as he bottoms out inside of you again.
the same way anton’s hips were slowly bringing you over the edge of the bed anton was crossing over the edge of something himself. he was actively abandoning the meek version of himself that could only huff and whimper at the feeling of you wrapped around him. he was becoming someone more dominant, someone that pressed his hand to your lower stomach before he pulled out of you all the way and pushed inside of you again.
“can you feel me here?” anton asked.
he was close to your ear when he asked his question. anton’s breath stuck to your sweaty skin and the humidity between your two bodies fogged his glasses. 
“so big.” you said nodding your head.
“so small. and tight too.” anton replied.
when you dug your fingernails into his skin it gave anton the confidence to continue. 
he raises up from your body to look down at you. this gives a whole different angle, and it feels like anton might split you down the middle. 
anton knew he didn’t have a dominant personality. he didn’t hate it, he felt like the label of gentle giant suited him well. if his voice was any indication he didn’t know how to be the domineering type. he stuck with being the soft-spoken and calm one, even in your relationship. anton left his friends wondering how he even got the bravery to approach you or ask you on a date. honestly, anton didn’t really know either. he knew it was all your doing.
but when anton looked down at the sight below him through his low hanging glasses he felt different. anton could see you struggle to take all of him and he could feel your nails digging into his arms to steady yourself. he saw your eyebrows crease and your mouth open as you struggled to get anything besides tiny whimpers and moans out. anton could feel himself needing more, and he decided he would be the one to get it out of you. 
anton came to a complete stop inside of you. he loved the way your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and how expressive your eyes were when you looked up at him. 
“what’s wrong?” you asked.
anton physically shivered seeing the tears in the corner of your eyes and the way your voice was still shaky and pitched high from your whining. anton bends his body close to yours, so close that your nose pushes his glasses up. anton puts his arm underneath your knee to hike it up slightly and he lets his lips ghost over yours. 
before you can repeat your question anton quickly pulls himself out of you all the way and thrusts back inside of you. it’s the roughest he’s ever been with you, the force pushes your body slightly over the edge of anton’s bed. anton’s lips still ghost over yours, his eyes scan parts of your face that he can see. he sees the way your eyes close and the way your lips part. anton stills inside of you again, waiting for you to open your eyes. 
you keep eye contact with him, pupils blown out from lust when anton pulls all the way out of you again. you brace yourself for it, feeling his hand press deep into your lower stomach. anton thrusts into you again with the same force and you let your moan rip through the room, letting your head lean over the foot of anton’s bed. this is when anton pulls away from you guiding your legs to wrap around his waist. you do so immediately, loving the way anton manhandles you. you’re happy he spares you from hearing his commanding voice. if anton told you to do something right now you think you would finish on the spot.
you can barely recover before anton starts fucking you again. he doesn’t pull out all the way like he did before, but thrusts into you with a force that’ll push you completely off the bed soon. you have to hold onto his arm to stay in place. 
anton lets your small hand wrap around his bicep, he flexes to give you something steady to hold onto. he folds back over, putting a hand on the top of your head to try and push your body ever closer to his. the way you look constantly has him changing positions. anton can’t control his mind from telling him to give you everything he has. and anton watches you take it all.
“i just can’t get enough of you.” anton sucks on the lobe of your ear.
he ruts into you now, the momentum causing your chest to move. anton wishes he had more hands to touch you with, so he could tweak your nipples and press deeply into you stomach and stimulate your clit all at the same time. but anton makes the sacrifice of feeling himself in your stomach to move to your chest. he revels in the fact that you fit so easily in his hand and he can’t stop himself from taking your tit into his mouth, sucking up and looking at you.
anton can barely see your through his sweaty bangs that fall past the rim of his glasses and blocks his view. he knows you like it by the way you moan his name and arch your back. your hand goes to rub anton’s head, like you’re petting him for being a good boy. this only makes anton pick up the speed and push you further over the edge of his bed. you head leans completely over and you can hear the sound of his creaking metal frame and the dull thud of your plushies falling off the bed.
you think you hear something else, but it’s forgotten when anton pulls your upper body to meet his like you weigh nothing. before you can comprehend anything anton plants his foot on the ground next to the bed so he can fuck you sitting up. you put your foot on the edge of the bed beside him to get closer. anton laughs and kisses your face at your fucked out expression.
“not too much, right?” anton asks.
you shake your head and kiss anton back. 
“it feels so good.” you whine
“good. i just want you to feel good.” anton says.
his words come out a little rough, cut short by how determined he is to fuck you. when you see anton look at your chest again you arch your back up to him to give him access. he doesn’t suck on your chest, only runs his wet tongue whenever he can reach. he has to look at you over the rim of his glasses now, and he sees your blurry lips suck on his fingers when he presses them on your tongue. he can see shine coming from the corners of your lips and spit covers your chest. you are a complete mess and it’s all for anton to partially see. 
“you close?” anton asks.
you nod pitifully, words failing to get out as you nearly gag on anton’s fingers.
anton looks down to where your two bodies meet. he lets a glob of spit fall from his mouth and he misses landing it on your clit. it falls on your abdomen and mixes with your sweat to glide down your body. anton takes his hand that was wrapped around your body to gather the spit and circle your clit. you start clenching around him uncontrollably the same way you did when he first slid in. anton hisses and works through the nearly blinding pleasure, continuing his motions.
“so tight i can barely move.” anton groans. 
you can barely keep your body upright anymore. your leg that was bent behind anton slid on his sheets and your thigh rests on his leg that’s planted to the floor. anton sits taller than you on the bed, and he kisses your forehead because he knows your close. you being so close makes anton desperate. he continues to hit the spot that he knows drives you crazy as he talks to you.
“i need to see you cum baby.” anton cooes.
you can only nod your head weakly before it hits you. you pull anton into you by his shoulders, your hands digging into the skin on his back. you’re the loudest you’ve ever been in your life, nearly crying out anton’s name with curse words wedged in between. anton continues to look down at you and kiss your face as squeeze around his length. anton waits for you to open your eyes to see the determined look you get. anton notices that you try to move your hips to meet his.
when anton cums he lays you down back to your original position. he forgets he’s wearing a condom when he stills inside of you after going as deep as possible. he ruts into you like you are taking every last drop and it ignites something inside of anton that he didn’t know existed. 
“fucking take it.” anton says quietly into your neck.
you lift your hips in response, and you milk anton as he empties into the condom. something was just ignited inside of you too.
when both of you come down from your high, anton settles his weight on top of you. you can only let him stay like that for a moment before tapping his shoulder. he looks up from your chest and is genuinely lost for a second like he forgot how big he is.
“oh shit. i’m sorry.” anton says.
the sweet innocent boyfriend is back in the blink of an eye. he pulls out of you to tie off his condom, looking back at your naked body as you roll on his bed. anton he picks up your plushies off the ground while you try and fight sleep away, slipping back into his hello kitty pajamas. anton gives you your clothes back before leaving the room. 
you can hear a faucet running, far off somewhere in another room before anton returns. he sits you up on the bed and wipes down the areas where he was the messiest. he gets the corner of your mouth and your chest, and he wipes down your thighs and core. you are still sensitive and preen from his touch. when you groan sleepily anton puts your head gently.
“you were amazing.” anton says. 
you open your eyes and pinch your boyfriend’s cheek, smiling at how cute he is. 
“you were too.” you say.
anton kisses your cheek and helps you back into your clothes. you both settle in bed, exerted and ready to sleep. you grab a hello kitty plushie and put it in between your two bodies. both of you kiss the stuffed animal’s head like it’s your baby.
you fall asleep on anton’s chest as he rubs your back, both of you finding a million different ways to say i love you
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onsomenewsht · 1 month
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》 Alexia Putellas x Reader (past), María León x Reader (platonic), Leah Williamson x Reader (platonic)
》 words count: +1.5k
》 what you don't know won't hurt you, oh / Mama, I'll lie, just for you
As soon as your phone lights up with a Facetime call, you know. 
No warning message, no text just to make sure you’re free to talk. A cold Facetime request from María, one of your best friends but definitely someone who means trouble if calling like that.
Launching yourself on your sofa unceremoniously, you accept the call and your fate as Mapi’s grin appears on your broken screen. How can she be so smug even miles away goes beyond you.
“Who died?”
Not the most warm way to start a conversation.
“Hola a ti también, nena” (Hello to you too)
“You look awful”
She looks amazing, she’s practically glowing and you’re happy for her.
Also, you’re happy for yourself too. It’s a relief this is not the scolding call you’ve been waiting for quite some time. It’s coming, you can feel it, but Ingrid enters the frame and you immediately know this is good news.
“Tienes que ser buena conmigo” (You should be nicer to me)
Mapi really isn’t the type to tiptoe around something so you don’t get why she didn’t start this conversation by screaming the news. Or making the journey and knocking on your door directly.
You let her be, she probably wants to enjoy it.
“Why should I? I moved to another country just to avoid it”
“Nena”, she pauses and her smile dims for a moment.
She knows English better than she lets everyone believe, so she gets the quip - or your attempt to joke about it. You’re not sure if it’s because of what you said or something else entirely, the two of you have yet to talk about the reason why you’re single and in another country.
Your transfer was eventful, to say at least. The faded blonde didn’t handle it very well, having taken you under her wing when you first moved from a mid-table club in your home country to Barcelona Femení - after a couple of years on a loan in different leagues too.
María’s the one who welcomed you in the locker room with rapid words and contagious enthusiasm. She kept talking with you in Spanish, even if you needed an entire year to be able to hold a simple conversation in your third language, but she’s someone you relied on since the very beginning. 
María’s also the first one to realise something was growing between you and Alexia, the first - and the loudest - to cheer when you mindlessly kissed in front of the team mid night out, the first one to give you both a shovel talk.
Sometimes it’s way too easy to forget how many people you can hurt with a decision that’s just your own to make.
You feel the need to take the conversation back on track.
“When is the wedding?”
“¿Quién te lo dijo?!” (Who told you?!)
“Your stupid face”, thankfully the Spaniard gets her brightness back at your words, “And I can see that huge rock even from here!”
Ingrid is matching a beaming smile, moving her hand closer to the camera and you can’t hold back your own joy. They truly deserve the devotion and support they share with one another. If you have to be happy for someone else’s love, you’re glad it’s for them.
And that ring is impressive. 
The memory of a beautiful ring hidden in a shoe box in the back of a closet makes you shiver. Is it still there or she got rid of it as first thing after dropping you off at the airport? Does Mapi know about it?
“Show off, that’s worth my value”
“Tonterías!, no eres tan buena” (Bullshit, you’re not even that good!)
“You are, she’s just too proud to admit it”, at Ingrid’s first words you immediately remember why lately she’s the one you like the most of the two.
“Haz la maleta y no quiero excusas, volverás aquí” (Pack you beg and no excuses, you’re coming back here)
Mapi’s witty remark is not missed, she saw you growing up and developing your very own unhealthy coping mechanism. Maybe you have a tendency to avoid confrontation, what about that? She goes for any adrenalin rush activity available when in denial so she’s not in the position to judge. 
You shift uncomfortably under their gazes, sitting upright but hitting the back of the sofa with your head.
You may be in a different country and there may be a screen between you and the pair, but María is still like a big sister to you and the other girl is basically the only reason you’re still sane and survived throughout your friendship with the Spaniard.
However, you can’t let them know how broken you are, not when you regret nothing that led to this.
“Why not Norway?”, worth a shot.
“We’re basically going to celebrate in any corner of the world, I don’t think you can miss this”
“Then I can be anywhere else, Ingrid”
“Mapi’s family is gonna be here”, and you’re her family too it’s what she’s too considerate to say aloud but you all hear anyway.
“I don’t think is a good idea, no one want me there”
“That’s not true”
“Nena, por favor!”
The silence is deafening, when you find the gut to look at your friends it’s easy to remember the love, the support, and respect that bond your relationships.
A transfer to another country, all the attempts to hide from the consequences of your own choices, the hearts broken. None of those things are really able to cut those kinds of connections.
“I’m happy for you two”, you say with the biggest and most sincere smile in a while.
Mapi accepts your decision to keep the conversation light, focusing on this happy and long awaited news. 
She’s glowing and you really are happy for her, for them. The desire to celebrate their love, to be there when they will share such pure joy with all the people they care about, sweeps away your fears of being confronted by the human form of the consequences of your own choices.
When the call ends, the usual weight you feel between your ribs doesn’t make your breathing heavier and the familiar bitter taste of guilt doesn’t pervade your mouth. 
You book a ticket to Barcelona before it all comes back to you.
~
“Mapi and Ingrid are getting married”
“It’s a plague!”
Leah is unlacing her boots, the two of you the last ones in the changing room after an additional training session the blonde insisted you needed. 
You’re playing in a slightly different position here, but you feel like those extra hours are more for her sake than your own, scared that you will find a way to avoid your new teammates if not involved in any possible activity.
You indulge her, you’re used to demanding and perfectionist captains after all.
“I have to go back to Barcelona”
“I bet, she’s gonna drag you there personally otherwise”
“María is not that―”
“I’m talking about Engen”, she smirks and she is right, Ingrid is way more effective in her convincing methods.
Still sitting on the bench in your training gear, you let her understand you’re not ready to leave yet. Not the room nor the conversation.
“What’s the problem, trotter?”
She managed to give you the worst nickname possible, making fun both of your way to run on the pitch and the fact you spent the past ten years in five different countries - it’s probably also a quip about the circumstances that bring you here but you give her the benefit of the doubt.
“No problem at all, I’m happy for them”
“They’re really cute”
“They are”, you miss them.
You miss the familiar embrace and the easy banter you share with María, you miss the warm support and the nights out with Ingrid, you miss the silence and the comforting methods Keira always found to take your homesickness away, you miss the funny and the cheerful attitude you wrap yourself around with Jana, Claudia and Ona. You miss them all.
You miss Alexia.
You miss how she always finds time to walk her dog out, doesn’t matter the weather or her busy schedule. You miss the subtle way she turns the radio’ volume up when a song she knows you like is on, and the not-so-subtle way she pretends to hate them all just to sing with you on the first chorus. You miss her body fitting perfectly all over your life, when moving in your house like it’s built around her, or when she’s ideally positioned on the pitch to receive your pass, or even when her hands find yours despite everything and everywhere you are.
You miss Alexia but you don’t deserve to grieve something you killed yourself.
“Do you need a pep talk from Kim?”
“Don’t you dare!”
Last time Leah called on your team captain to put up with your somber mood, you ended on the bench for two games yet sent her a nice bouquet as an apology - and as a thanks for the help.
“Look, you can’t hide from her forever”
“I can definitely try”
The smile she directs to you is both amused and bushed.
“I just don’t think our closest friend’s wedding is the best occasion to meet her for the first time after… well, after everything”, you admit while repeatedly hitting the changing room’s wall with the back of your head.
“Maybe not, maybe we will have to face them in the next Champion League’s draw”
She jinxed it.
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bunji-enthusiast · 1 month
Note
Dogday calling the player "Angel" gave me an idea. Can I have the toys reaction to their favorite caretaker being turned into a new toy named "The Gaurdian" who's basically a, well, gaurdian angel. They're purpose is too watch the toys from above in the shadows like batman and make sure they don't attack any of the employees, if they do they intertwine and save them before leaving. I'd imagine it'd be hard for the toys when the hour of joy arrives since the might have to hurt they're former caretaker
Guardianship
Note || absolutely!! I might’ve gotten lazy sorry- I keep forgetting to add a Taglist too lol.
WC || 959
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“A Tight Squeeze” Toys – 
Huggy Wuggy:
He is very fond of you, one of many with having a very calming presence naturally. You always looked out for him, and even talked to him when nobody else would. Huggy always enjoyed your presence, but it was even more sudden to know that you had been turned into a brand new toy that was displayed and released as an official one.
The Guardian, as he had heard scientists and employees like to call the toy, was immediately surprised upon finally seeing you for himself. One day he had gotten a little too aggressive toward an employee and a swoop of air brushed past him, intervening between the employee and Huggy himself. He looked around to see who had done that, yet for the first time in his existence as a toy, he felt chilled to the bone to see your eyes glaring at him from the darkness. 
Huggy wished he didn’t have to go against you when time came for the hour of joy, but you were protecting the employees he was attacking from him. He had to injure you, and he didn’t like that, but he was forced to. Because of Prototype, he believed in the prototype, just barely but he didn’t want to hurt you at all. For a moment, he felt as if he were crying when attacking you
Poppy:
She didn’t even know what had happened to you, Poppy was kept far off and away from you even during your time as a human. Oh she wished to be free, to end it all. But she certainly hadn’t expected to be locked in the case, she may have been locked in there but that didn’t restrict her from hearing things.
Guardian huh? Maybe she could convince you to side with her, be against the Prototype once she is finally freed from her stupid case. Though the screams she had heard, both animalistic and human will never leave her mind. 
    Bron:
Bron was a quiet dinosaur, keeping to himself and simply interacting with children whenever the few had come up to him. Overtime he had become well acquainted with you when you were human, being confused when you had suddenly stopped showing up. He had heard talk of a new toy known as the guardian, but it was yet unfortunate in his opinion as he had not lived long enough through the hour of joy to meet you once more.
He too was a heretic. 
       Kissy Missy: 
She liked you, quite a lot when she met you. You gave off a very motherly vibe, reminding her of her fragmented past memories. Kissy had gotten closer to you then she did with others, feeling less small and afraid, more open in her movements when she was around you. 
Kissy was sad when you had disappeared into thin air, leaving work one day all of the sudden. Though her answers were quickly made true when she saw you as The Guardian, a brand new toy whose purpose was to prevent other toys from being aggressive towards humans. Keeping them in line. Now she was just even more sad, but had remained interacting with you all the same.
When the Hour Of Joy occurred, she urged you to go and hide. Kissy didn’t want you hurt, as much as you protested, saying it was your job to. She was forced to knock you out the best she could, then dragged you somewhere safe and hidden – out of sight of the other toys. 
“Fly In A Web” Toys –
Mommy Long Legs + Bunzo Bunny:
She had a distinct liking toward you, seeing herself in you as you both had very motherly auras. Even when she had taken care of the children, you took care of her. Especially when it had carried into your unlikely accident of transformation, being turned into The Guardian. Mommy had heard it from the ears of many children, when she had inquired about it to any of them, she was devastated.
You no longer were yourself, as she had been reminded of numerous times when she had gotten too aggressive toward any adults (even employees in particular). Bunzo was worried when he had asked Mommy about it, she reassured the musical bunny it was fine. 
Everything certainly wasn’t, Bunzo had stayed out of participating in the Hour Of Joy. Mommy had to deal with the guilt of having to hurt you, because you were getting in her way so many times – always protecting the employees from her attacks the best you could. 
“Deep Sleep” Toys —
Smiling Critters + DogDay: 
They all had truly liked you, kind and caring as a real caretaker would be. Though even if it had just meant you cared for the toys in particular. DogDay always was chatty with you, talking about all his other friends.
Sadness and torment was just the last thing they all needed, you got turned, turned just like they were. You became The Guardian as many had called you, your personality and demeanor changed completely. Only swooping down to protect employees against toys who got a little too close for your liking. DogDay was sad, he didn’t like it all that much. They had all shared the same sentiment. 
When The Hour Of Joy came, all the smiling critters had fought against it. You were one of the few who went and protected the employees, DogDay was distressed wondering what to do. No longer he had to deal with it unfortunately as he had faced CatNap, he had punished him for being a heretic, going against the Prototype.
He didn’t even get to know what happened to you, only CatNap knew your fate and was hanging this information over DogDay’s head.
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[Taglist: @everythingnicen0nnie @prince0fpaints @alocaldemisexual02]
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hina-hina · 1 year
Note
Hi can i request a ghost x too pure for this world slash civillian reader . where reader is the total opposite of ghost like they too kind and soft and ghost met them whole reader was working in a local bookshop and they both just fall head over heels for each other 😭💗💗
Hiiii, this was such a cute request! I love the opposites attract relationships so much and imagining THE big, scary Ghost with this very sweet and kind reader is so fun!! Kinda got carried away with it, but I hope you like it!! Thank you for requesting!! (❤ ω ❤)
|| Ghost with a Soft Partner ||
Warnings: soft and flustered Ghost (^///^)
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It's not often when Ghost gets to take a break from his work, but when he does it's never for very long
So, when he does get a break, he spends it doing the few things he actually likes about civilian lives
And, surprisingly, one of those things is reading
So, whenever he's in town, he likes to pick up a few books to take back to base with him
So he pulls on the most discreet civvies he owns, a black hoodie, mask, and beanie. (Because you can't very well go about in town with a skull mask without getting unwanted stares)
He doesn't like how much his hulking form sticks out in the cozy bookstore but he goes anyway
However, he immediately regrets it after he sees the confusing way the store has the books organized
Apparently noticing his confusion, you would approach to help him
He is immediately taken aback by your soft-spoken voice and demeanor as you ask if he needs help
Would take a minute to respond and not notice he's just staring at you
When he notices you starting to get nervous under his intense gaze he would immediately look away and clear his throat
"I'm lookin' for your mystery books..."
"Oh! Yes, the sorting method can get a little confusing. Just follow me!"
He is once again taken aback by your helpful attitude
It's not often people are so nice to him
You bring him to the right section and are about to leave him alone when he suddenly asks;
"Any recommendations?"
He doesn't know why he asks but he knows that he's comforted by your presence
So, the two of you talk and he ends up buying more than one of your recommendations
But eventually you have to go back to work and he has to go back home
However you find yourself stuck thinking about the large, intimidating man with a love for mystery books and he finds himself in a similar position.
So he finds himself coming back to the bookstore again
and again
He finds talking with you to be like a fresh breath of air
It makes him forget about Ghost for a while and feel like Simon again
Eventually he gets up the courage to ask you out on a date against his better judgement
So, you end up going on a date to this cutesy cafe even though he feels totally out of place because he knows you would love it
He eventually opens up about his job but tells you the bare minimum, just that he's just a military soldier is the SAS
Your shocked and slightly worried because that work is dangerous but upon reflection you know he can handle himself
He walks you home and the end of the night and when you lean in to kiss him, he pulls back
When you look at him with a hurt expression, he continues;
"Listen... I don't understand how I feel about you but I do know you deserve a hell of a lot more than me. If we do this, I have to know your sure. My work is... Dangerous. I don't want to hurt you."
You smile, "Let me worry about what I think I deserve, Simon."
You place your hands on the sides of his mask and he pauses, large hands coming up to engulf your wrists as he nods
You pull his mask down and lean up as you kiss
Eventually, he has to return to base and is worried on how the distance will affect your relationship
You reassure him though with your soft smile and tell him you'll be waiting for him to get back
He feels his heart clench with a soft affection he hadn't felt in a long time
While he's going through his things, he opens one of the books you had recommended to him only to find you had tucked a few secretly taken polaroids inside
He keeps one tucked in his breast pocket and another pinned to the wall in his room on base
While he's gone, the two of you share video calls and you send him letters
He's always so touched by the time you put into the letters and he loves knowing your still doing fine without him there
He would be SUPER protective of you
When the other guys on the 141 task force find out he has a partner, they argue over what kind of person he would look for in a partner
When he finally shows them a picture, they are all shocked because just from the picture they can tell your complete opposites
You send him care packages with books you think he would like and homemade sweets
The other guys would always ask for some but he would refuse because you made them for him
He would be reluctant to tell you about his past because he doesn't want to "corrupt" you
You tell him he's being dumb and reassure him that, when he's ready to talk, you'll be there
Would still have feelings of inadacity because he's a cold-hearted killer and your so painfully good
You reassure him that his work helps tons of people and that your proud of him
He enjoys having you read to him while he rests his head in your lap
He's definitely touch starved so he gets very flustered when you get touchy with him
He loves it tho
I can also see him sending you books, trinkets, and rocks he finds while on deployment
You keep each one he sends and display them
Prefers to spend dates indoors quietly
Would 100% fantasize about marrying you
Would encourage you to be a little less kind when people at work are mean to you or too pushy because he doesn't like the idea of not being able to defend you himself
All and all, you would just be really fluffy and cute, a much needed softness to balance out his cold demeanor
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ineffable-suffering · 6 months
Text
Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator
Part 1: The Story of Job
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I'm absolutely not the first one to talk about this on here and I probably shan't be the last either. Alas, here's my take on why all of the minisodes in Season 2 should be enjoyed with great care – and taken with a grain of angelic salt.
I'm gonna split this into 3 parts, aka the three minisodes we are shown, since I tend to get a bit waffley in my posts and want to still be able to include all the little details. Once I've written them, I'll link Part 2 & Part 3 here as well!
Alright, let's get into it under the cut of doom.
Episode 2 opens with the Story of Job. Right off the bat, I noticed that it sort of looks like an old film playing. At first I didn't read that much into it, but once we see the cut-away to Aziraphale at the bookshop, currently reading that part of the Bible (presumably), I immediately thought: "Oh! It's because it's his memory. He's remembering how it went down and therefore it plays like a figurative film in his head."
This, I then came to realize, is a very crucial difference to all the flashbacks of S1, which were exclusively told and narrated by God. May her intensions be as ineffable as they are: She did tell us all of these stories from an objective outsider's point of view. Now, however, it's Aziraphale who's re-telling those stories to us from memory.
And if there's one thing that's for certain, it's that a memory is something entirely different to an objective narration of a story. Just think about how you yourself remember things. Especially things that happened years, maybe even decades (or, in an angel's case, millenia) ago. What is it, that you really remember? Can you know for sure, that a conversation was held with those exact words? Are you 100% certain that the clothes someone wore weren't different? Had it really been snowing or would that make very little sense given what you're remembering happened in May? And did it even happen in May? Or does that just happen to be your favourite month, the current weather, your preferred style of clothing and what it was that you would imagine someone would have said to you?
What I'm trying to say is: The further away it is that something happened, the more your brain has to fill in the gaps. This is why, for example, your parents will remember the family summer holiday entirely different when you ask them about it 20 years later.
"No, it was Sarah who puked on the car ride home!" "Nonsense, Sarah never puked as a child. Bobby had that gone-off pizza, he's the one that was sick the whole ride long!"
We've all been there. Bobby made it out alive. Don't buy gas station pizza.
Alright, back to the plot: Naturally, Aziraphale is not actually human, so it is a pure assumption on my part that the way his memory works is similar to ours. However, the whole topic of "memory" is actually quite a recurring one on Good Omens.
Crowley seems to have lost his in the Fall, yet somehow managed to get most of it back. Not all of it, though, he clearly has some major gaps ("You used to jump on me back, little monkey in the waistcoat!"). Beelzebub helps Gabriel store all his memories in their little fly container before they get wiped entirely too, by the Metatron and/or Saraqael. Crowley and Aziraphale (and possibly Jimbriel) perform a miracle together that makes everyone in Heaven and Hell forget who Garbiel is or what he looks like. And we know that the Book of Life apparently has the ability to completely erase someone from existence – ergo also erasing them from everyone's memory and making it is as though the person had never been in them at all.
So, clearly, angels and demons being able to remember, forget, reconstruct and, if you're the Metadork, wipe memories, is very much canon. Apart from that very last one, it does make them quite human-like in a way. We too can forget or (wrongfully and incompletely) reconstruct memories, due to things like trauma, illness or simply a lot of time having passed.
So, just like Crowley remembers going into battle but doesn't remember Furfur being there, or just like Jimbriel has entierly forgotten who he is but still remembers the tune and lyrics to Buddy Holly's song Everyday, and just like archangel Michael was miraculously made to forget Gabriel and yet says "Don't I know you?" when seeing him again – just like that, Aziraphale's memories of the story of Job, the story of wee Morag and the story of the magic show in 1941, might not actually be the whole truth.
So, time to look at where the furniture isn't.
Now, it could very well be that the costume designers of S2 thought: "Fuck it, let's go crazy" – but given that this show has a track record of meticulously making sure to stick to accurate and cohesive character design, doesn't it strike you as odd that Crowley would go from this look at the Flood in Mesopotamia, 3004 BC:
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... to the (very iconic, don't get me wrong) Bildad the Shuhuite drip in 2500 BC:
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... back to this at the crucifixion of Jesus Christ in 33 AD:
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I mean ... I mean– come on, that seems like a bit of a far stretch, even for someone as enthusiastically experimental with fashion as Crowley.
And it's not just that: Where did the sunglasses come from, all of a sudden? And why do they look like some sort of obscure, ancient optometrist's device? It's a known historical fact that the Romans were the ones to have invented sunglasses, somewhere around 50-ish AD. Which actually matches perfectly with when Crowley and Aziraphale meet again in Rome 8 years after the crucifixion (51 AD).
So, where do the weird spectacles come from, over 2000 years too early? Maybe from Aziraphale's brain filling in some gaps? Hasn't Crowley always worn those ridiculous sunglasses? Was it Rome? Or Golgotha? Wessex? Oh, blimey, what does it matter!
And it's not just Crowley: Aziraphale's own clothes, as well as the other angels', seem to be very different from the rather plain linen we see him wear before and after the story of Job.
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They're laced with golden embroidery along the neckline and sleeves. The remind almost of the clothes angels are depicted wearing in biblical and historical drawings. Ornate and decadent. Not at all like we see Aziraphale in the other flashbacks of S1.
Even Bildad the Shuhite's hair within the minisode keeps changing, going from all pouffy and voluminous to rather deflated and straight-looking:
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The costume department either had to fix up two seperate wigs or manually straighten out the volume of the one again to give it a more sleek look. I'm not a professional in this field, but if there's anything I've learned from watching hours of behind-the-scenes material of movies and shows, it's that very little about costume, character, prop and set design is purely coincidental.
You know what it could be, though? An accurate representation of how memories aren't linear, historically correct and objective representations of a certain event, but rather an ever-changing, jumbled mess of impressions, emotions and exaggerations.
More specifically: Aziraphale's impression, emotions and exaggerations.
Like "remembering" Crowley with sunglasses because he's been wearing them for so long.
Like "remembering" himself wearing more luxurious, angelic clothes because that's how he thinks of the difference between Heaven and Hell.
Like "remembering" the permit as a ridiculously long scroll that folded out over an entire valley.
Like "remembering" Job's children to be weirdly sassy in an almost Aziraphale-esque way (Enon: "Don't be silly!") for the fact that Job would have probably taught them to be more humble and obedient in the presence of a literal angel.
Like "remembering" eating an entire fucking Ox after having just one bite of it while Crowley watched him lustfully, sipping on his wine.
Like "remembering" Crowley calling him 'angel', despite them having barely known each other back then.
There's a reason why the flashbacks in S2 seem so much more alive, quirky and, at many points, confusing and all over the place. Because they're not objective stories being told by a third party. They're Aziraphale's. So much of his own thoughts and feelings at the time get projected onto them because that's simply how memory works!
It's subjective. It's unrealiable.
It's not that I'm calling Aziraphale a liar. He's no more a liar than your parents are, mixing up Sarah and Bobby. Or you, remembering snow instead of sunshine. Memories aren't lies. They can simply be faulty, focus on things that you thought were more important and leaving out or changing things that weren't, to you.
The real challenge in all of this, is trying to filter through Aziraphale's stories to see what it actually is they're telling us. Where it is that the furniture isn't. And I think in this case, that's 6 main things (eff you, God, I know you like sevens, but I don't care):
God and Satan (still) talk to each other We see that Aziraphale is quite surprised when Muriel mentions that the whole Job thing is God's bet with Satan. But clearly, despite having made him and the rest fall, God still converses with Her number one traitor about whether or not the humans simply love Her because she gives them nice things or because they truly believe in Her.
God and Satan (and Heaven and Hell) can and do collaborate with each other when they feel like it So much for choosing sides, huh? Truthfully, this is not the first time this is shown to us, but still. It's another piece of evidence on the growing pile.
Aziraphale understands the World and humans way better than any of the other angels "Well, you see ... Citis is 58 ..."
Aziraphale, despite having troubles voicing it, absolutely disagrees and even condemns God's plan of destroying Job's children (and goats and camels and––)
Aziraphale is willing to lie and thwart the will of God Also not the first time we're being shown this but again, piiiile of evidence.
Angels don't automatically Fall simply by doing the above To me, this is one of the most important take aways. It's already hinted in S1 as well that 'Falling' seems to have been a one time even back when the first war broke out in Heaven. And I actually believe that ever since then, no other angels have Fallen again. Aziraphale is the best example for this. He has gone against God's plan numerous times and even lied to her very face (voice?) about it. And yet, nothing ever happened to him. Why exactly that is the case remains a topic for another meta (that I might or might not be working on already, teehee).
Alright, that concludes this first look at the Job minisode! If there's anything I missed, feel free to share it with me. I'll try and add Part 2 (the story of wee Morag) and Part 3 (the magic show of 1941) soon.
Update: Part 2 and Part 3 have officially been written, you can find it them right here:
Part 2: The Story of wee Morag
Part 3: The Story of the Magic Show in 1941
Hugs and kisses, (God)!
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yandere-daydreams · 3 months
Text
Title: Idol Worship.
Pairing: Yandere!Devil x Reader (Christianity).
Word Count: 1.0k.
TW: Consensual Sex, Size Difference, Implied (Past) Injury To Reader, Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Scarring, and Themes of Religious Trauma.
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The path to His throne was paved with salt and brimstone.
Smoldering rock burnt into the soles of your feet like ember, taken fresh from the heart of the fire. Living corpses, their rotting flesh deteriorating further with ever fraught breath, laid motionless on either side of the crumbling archway, their milky eyes watching your every stumbling movement. The air was heavy with smoke and sulfur, but the buzzling of unseen insects, the stench of the decay – that was all kept in your peripheral. It was meant for someone else, someone whose crimes were far more violent and far more damning than your own. Your fate was elsewhere.
The ascent was made no easier by your anticipation, the steps carved from black onyx and made steep enough to warrant your immediate and self-inflicted dehumanization, to force you to your hands and knees in your effort to scramble upward – ever upward, as if you hadn’t yet had enough of the blinding sky. Rough granite tore into the skin of your palms, but the agony was minimal, a shadow something greater that would not numb you to more intentional agony. The heat, too, was distant, rolling over you in tender waves and seeping under your skin to coil around your ribs, to weave in and out of ragged tears in your mutilated veins. Something snapped inside your chest as you finished your climb, fresh blood washing over your aching throat, but any pain you might’ve felt faded away as a great hand descended from the clouds of smog and ash, His calloused fingertips digging into your waist, your stomach as He took you up and placed you, gingerly, on His silk-clad thigh. His touch lingered, a thumb running over your scalp as He spoke. “Oh, my glorious one,” His voice was deep and flat and beautiful. “What have they done to you?”
Anything they could. Everything they could. Your body was still plagued with the phantoms of it, the frigid cold of steel and iron against flesh and bone. You tried to speak, but your voice was gone, muted by means beyond your own. You frowned, more frustrated than you were surprised, but He did not share in your disappointment. “They are sons of the Most High, for he is kind to the ungrateful and the evil.” After a beat, He added, “I will not be so forgiving.”
His hand began to pull away, but you scrambled after of it, latching onto His wrist in a futile effort to hold Him that much closer. An airy chuckle fell from Him unmoving muzzle – His golden, slit-pupiled eyes remaining focused on some distant point as He took you into His hold once again, lifting you first to His own height. For the first time, he moved in earnest – tilting his head forward and resting his forehead against yours. “The reason the Son appeared was to destroy the Devil’s work, for the thief comes only to steal and destroy.” His breath was cool against your skin, even as anger seeped into His tone. “And now, instead, you are asked to forgive and comfort him, so that he will not be overwhelmed by excessive sorrow.”
It was more of a croak than a proper plea, hoarse and fractured at all the wrong angles. Still, you managed it, your own small hands pressed into the swell of His palm. “Please, my lamb.”
He seemed to catch himself, inhaling sharply as He shook His head. “My apologies, I forget my audience. You are altogether beautiful, my love; there is no flaw in you.” You nuzzled closer to Him, and He allowed you a moment of solace before pulling away, straightening Himself to His most dignified stature. “We have been separated for no short time. Tell me, will you not gratify the desires of the flesh?” A note of humor, a forked tongue allowed to skirt gingerly over your neck. “Will you not allow me to show the length of my devotion?”
You didn’t need to answer, it was a given that you would. His delicate tongue ran over the lacerations on your calves, your thighs - smearing dried blood and soothing open wounds. It flicked upward, lapping at the twin scars on either side of your chest, then the bruises painted across your collarbones, around the base of your throat. His hand shifted, wrapping around your waist, His hold firm and steady as He lowered you onto his length. There were other options – as many shapes and variations as a lustful heart could dream of – but His cock was among His most impressive features. The shaft alone matched your arm in length and your midriff in girth, and yet, it pierced you without resistance, filling you to the brim before He was so much as half-sheathed inside of you. Your knees pressed into his lap, your hand grasping for purchase against his broad chest, but you felt no fear, nor was your exertion necessary in the face of His willingness to serve. He let out a raspy breath, allowing His head to lull back as He thrust gently into you from below. “Earthly one, glorious one,” The pet name fell from His lips like milk and butter and honey. “We will lead each other astray. We will be the force by which the greatest love is defined.”
A growl of a moan as your walls clenched around Him, a sharp snap of His hips. “We will be bound together in perfect harmony,” His hand found the underside of your chin, tilting your head back with only the upmost delicacy. “And those who try to separate us will face only the most just of retribution.”
Your eyes met His, that wonderous gold melting into softened mortality. Where there should have been revulsion, there was only warmth, only light. Foolishly, for a moment, you allowed yourself to scorn the shine of the heavens, to loathe all things that were not Him.
You allowed yourself to believe that you would need nothing else, not so long as His gaze fell upon you.
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ang3lik · 1 year
Note
!Scream IV Spoilers!
Smut with Ethan Landry after he gets back from a kill🙈
𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐭
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: ethan landry x fem!reader 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: vaginal sex, slight nipple play, biting, oral ( m x f ), spanking, begging, slight degradation and mentions of murder and violence. 𝐰/𝐜: 1.1k 𝐚/𝐧: i wrote this in like two hours, so sorry if it sounds rushed. if there’s any warnings i’ve missed or any errors, let me know, hope you enjoy !
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as ethan walked back to his dorm, he couldn’t help the stir inside of him. the stir of revenge being fulfilled. he had succeeded in killing anika. he knew that would torture mindy most, but it’d scare the group as one by one he’d kill them. he still felt a little on edge however, all the adrenaline pumping inside him after his second kill.
it put his mind at ease that he knew you were waiting for him in his dorm, thinking he was just returning home from econ. as he got to his dorm door he double checked his hands, checking his clothes and pulling out his phone to check his face to make sure he was clear of blood.
he made sure his phone was on so not disturb to so no one would interrupt you both with the need of anika’s murder. he unlocked the door, walking in and closing it behind him, looking around the living room as he called your name out. you called back from his bedroom, laying on his bed as he walked in, dropping his bag to the floor, the ghostface costume and knife still stained with blood inside, making it think from the weight of it.
he flopped straight on top of you, face immediately in your neck, kissing your soft skin as you squirmed and giggled beneath him. your right hand ran through his curls your other wrapping around his large shoulders, holding him closer to you.
“what’s gotten into you?” you laughed out, his curls tickling under your jaw as he nibbled at your skin a little, the sharp pinch of his teeth, making your body heat up.
“stupid, fucking econ.” he breathed out, his cold hands, pushing up your tank top from your hips as he gripped them. “oh, you forgot your notes.” he paused. looking over to his desk, where his notes lay over the table, forgetting to hide them away before he left, as if he’d taken them with him.
he gulped, feigning annoyance before turning to you again.
“yeah, i know.” he answered. you took note of his heavy breathing, the fast inhales of air, audibly breathing out of his nose as his eyes darkened. he seemed angry, and there was only one thing that could calm him down. you. you took initiative, leaning upwards, capturing his lips between yours as he moaned loudly in content.
the kiss grew hot fast as he rushed to get you both naked as fast as possible. your tank top was tugged up, your tits bouncing before his eyes as he looked at you, hungry. his lips attached to your nipple, sucking on it gently as you sighed out in pleasure.
his thumb twisted the other, flicking it between his fingers. your cunt grew wetter as a jolt of excitement ran down your spine, squealing lightly as ethan let his teeth graze your nipple, sucking it lightly to ease the pain. he looked up at you through his curls, pulling away from the peak, smirking, a thin trail of spit connecting from the bud to his lower lip, breaking as moved down your stomach.
he stood up at the end of his bed, pulling of his shirt, his eyes watching you as he unclasped his belt, undid his jeans and pushed them off. you watched his thick cock, throb in his boxers before he pushed them off too, wasting no time to pounce on top of you.
he pushed your thighs apart, kneeling between as he pulled of your shorts by the waistband. he watched as your hole clenched around nothing, waiting for his thick, wet tongue as he leaned down sucking your clit into his mouth. you sobbed out in delight as his tongue flicked your nub, the sounds of his tongue licking up and down your slit, shaking his head slightly, as he ate you out messily, reaching your ears.
your thighs clamped around his head, as you leaked out into his tongue. squirming upwards on the bed, his hands pushed your thighs over his shoulders, his arms wrapping around them as he pulled you down, closer onto his younger as he pushed his tongue deep inside you.
curling it inside you, he let his teeth graze your clit, that warm feeling of your orgasm creeping up on you setting inside your stomach. the noises of him slurping your juices into his mouth, sent you over the edge, cumming all over his tongue and clenching around the muscle as your back arched up off the bed.
you yelled as he pushed your thighs of his shoulders, twisting your body to lay you on your stomach as he pulled you hips up, level with his. overstimulated, from your orgasm only seconds ago, your body shook as he pushed the top of his cock, slapping it on your clit as he teased your hole, pushing in and stretching you out before leaving again.
you squeezed your eyes closed as he pushed in, ethan letting out a loud groan as he looked down, watching his cock disappear inside of you as he pulled back, repeating his movements. you made whiny, meek noises at his slow movements, pushing your hips back, urging him to drive deeper.
a harsh slap to your left ass cheek has you crying out in ecstasy as he finally started to thrust faster. the erotic sounds of his hips slamming into yours, loud. you moaned loudly, your body buzzing with thrill as you felt the need to cum again. begs and whines of ‘please’ and ‘ethan’ left your mouth in desperation, as his hand came down on the opposite cheek, spanking you again.
he dropped down, leaning over your shoulder, as he rutted into you, his tip prodding your g-spot as he grunted into your ears.
“beg for me baby, like the little slut you are, tell me what you want?” he uttered. tears lined your eyes, as you tried to hold your orgasm off. “i want to cum!” you called out as you squeezed around his length. he could feel his sack tighten, as it slapped against your sticky clit, feeling the need to cum himself.
“cum.” he demanded. “cum for me.” you screamed in pleasure, deep, intense, thrusts carrying you through your orgasm as his cock twitched inside of you. warm, white cum, spewed from his tip as he whimpered. his body dropped down, the small bed leaving his arm laying across your back, your body tired but feeling heavenly.
neither of you said a thing, laying in a peaceful silence, until your phone rang, both your heads shooting up as ethan picked it up from his bedside table, chad was calling.
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @astarborntowrite @liyahsocorro @anonoussy @gr4veyardg1rl
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amhrosina · 10 months
Note
Ok what about Franks reaction when you come home crying? Idk why, could be anything at all. I’m just imagining Frank excited for you to get home, only for you to come through the door with tear tracks down your face
a/n: ooooooooooo yes! i made frank so soft here i think i need comfort lmfao not quite as angsty as i wanted, but i like how it ended up! also, said this would be a drabble, ended up writing a 1.2k ficlet sooooo enjoy!
warnings: implied violence, implied smut at end, reader gets mugged (off page), f!reader, no use of y/n, frank comforting reader, reader gets a little weepy
masterlist // join my taglist
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You never thought you’d reach this point, but you were praying Frank hadn’t made it home from work yet. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him - you always wanted to see him - but the sight of your swollen, tear-filled eyes would probably send him into a frenzy, and really, all you wanted to do was curl up in his lap and forget about the entire encounter that had left you in tears. 
Luck, it seemed, was not on your side, however, because as soon as you stepped into your apartment, Frank’s overwhelming presence was immediately apparent to you. His work boots, neatly lined next to the door, were in the place he always left them when they were too dirty to store in your shared closet. His coat, the one he’d insisted he didn’t need but wore every single day in the winter, was hung in the corner, next to the empty hook that normally held your jacket, scarf, and hat. The most obvious indicator, though, was the irregular clatter of dishes being moved around, used, and discarded in the kitchen.
“Sweetheart?” He called, eagerness clear in his voice. “That you?”
Shit. Suddenly, the guilt of praying he wasn’t home moments before threatened to consume you.
“Sweetheart?”
His voice was closer now, much closer, and you hurriedly swiped the tears away from your cheeks, hoping he wouldn’t notice your blotchy cheeks, or the fact that your eyelids were more swollen than you’d ever seen them. You cleared your throat and tried your best to sound normal.
“Hey, Frankie.”
You turned around to meet him, smiling in an attempt to hide your sorrow, and suddenly felt extremely stupid. Frank wasn’t an idiot, and the look on his face when you finally looked at him told you he was seeing right through the facade. 
“What happened?” 
“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” You shrugged, blinking away the fresh wave of tears building in your lash line.
“Did someone hurt you?” 
His voice was oddly calm, but there was a bite in his tone that he was clearly trying to suppress. 
“No.” You shook your head, stepping closer to him. “I’m fine.”
He blinked down at you, cupping your damp cheeks in his warm palms.
“You’re lying to me. Why are you lying to me, sweetheart?” 
“I’m not.” You denied instantly, resolve growing weaker with every pass of his thumb over your cheekbones. He was silent for a moment, eyeing your quivering bottom lip. He took in your appearance, the word ‘disheveled’ coming to mind as he looked you over, before finally pinpointing what was missing from your usual attire.
“Where’s your bag?” He queried, tilting his head slightly. 
You huffed, finally allowing the tears to spill onto your cheeks. “I was on the subway and this asshole was crowding me when I got off and before I could even try and get away from him, he took off with my bag.”
“Okay, shh shh shh shh, baby. It’s okay.” 
You were, embarrassingly, blubbering at this point. You hadn’t even gotten to the worst part yet. 
“The necklace you got me for Christmas was in there, Frank.” You sobbed, trying not to think too hard about the lost gift. It had been your most prized possession since the moment you’d put it on. Until this morning, you’d never taken it off. You cursed yourself for thinking it would be safe in your bag. “I’m so sorry.”
“Oh, honey, it’s going to be okay. I’m not mad, baby. Don’t apologize.” Frank cooed, pressing gentle kisses across your face. He was all too aware of how much that necklace meant to you. “I’m going to make a call, okay?”
“You think you can get it back?” You knitted your brows together in confusion. “I didn’t even get a good look at his face. I have no idea who he is.”
“I know, sweetheart. I’m just glad you’re safe.” He pulled you into his chest and began dialing his phone.
“Who’re you calling?” You questioned further, nuzzling into his warmth.
“Lieberman. If anyone can find the guy, it’s him.”
You listened as Frank relayed the information to Micro, occasionally giving him additional information. Frank’s free hand cupped the back of your head, absent-mindedly running his fingers along the nape of your neck while Micro searched through camera footage and DMV records. You knew the second they’d figured out who did it, so tuned into Frank’s body that you physically felt the tension build in his shoulders. 
“You gonna kill him?” You asked, eyes focused on Frank's jaw, which hadn’t unclenched since his conversation with Micro.
“I should.” He mumbled, eyeing your reaction carefully. “He could’ve hurt you.”
“He didn’t, though.” You shrugged, “Maybe he needed food or something.”
Frank’s eyes softened. “Are you really trying to find the good in the man who stole your favorite thing from you?” 
“Maybe.” You shrugged again, grinning when Frank huffed in annoyance. 
“You’re too nice.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Good thing I’m not.”
“I thought you’d be more mad.”
“Oh, trust me. I’m pissed that he even looked at you.” His jaw clenched impossibly harder. “But I’m just glad you’re safe. If he’d hurt you, though…,” he trailed off, shaking his head, “I don’t know what I’d do. Something illegal. That’s a given.”
You nodded, understanding his desire to protect you. If the roles were reversed, you’d do the same. You sniffed, eyes flicking to the kitchen, where something was definitely burning.
“What were you cooking before I came home?”
Frank stiffened before taking off toward the kitchen. “Holy shit, I forgot I had something in the oven.”
You giggled and followed him through the apartment, the entire encounter on the subway a distant memory already. Frank would take care of it. He always did.
Later, hours after falling asleep on Frank’s chest, the distinct sound of your fire escape window closing woke you from your slumber. Frank was no longer beneath you, and hadn’t been for some time you realized, sliding your fingers over the cool sheets where he’d been earlier.
“Frankie?” You softly called, slightly lifting your head from the pillow.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He gently crawled into bed, hovering over your still mostly-asleep figure and kissing the tip of your nose. “I have something for you.”
He lifted his arm, and you nearly shrieked when you realized what was dangling from between his swollen and slightly bruised fingers.
“You found it?” You gasped.
“I said I would, didn’t I?” He smiled, kissing you again.
“Frank Castle, you absolute fucking gentleman.”
He chuckled at your crude language. “That’s high praise coming from a princess like you.”
You smiled, kissing him deeper. He groaned when you slid your tongue into his mouth. 
“Let me show you how grateful I am.” You teased, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer.
“Baby, you won’t hear any complaints from me. Your wish is my command, princess.”
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randomperson3736 · 4 months
Text
Trauma
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Paring(s): Bruce wayne x son! Reader, batboys x brother! Reader
Warning(s): mentions of rape, kidnapping, abuse, boxing, blood, childhood trauma, swearing
Genre: angst, sad
Summary: you're Bruce's adopted son and a vigilante to gotham city, but you have a horrible past you can't escape from.
Word bank: M/N- male name, V/N- vigilante name
Two years ago today, you were found and adopted by the billionaire Bruce wayne A.K.A the infamous batman. He had found you when out on patrol with the others A.K.A nightwing, red hood, red Robin and Robin.
And not long after Bruce had taken you in, you become V/N, the newest vigilante to gotham streets. But no matter how hard the others tried, you never opened up or socialised with any of them. All you did was stay in your room and only ever came out if you wanted food, water, the toilet, school,to train or to go out on patrol.
They didn't blame you for this of course. They knew your past and how you grew up. But they didn't understand why. Even after being with them for two years now you never once did anything with them. Were you not comfortable with them? Did you not like it here? Did you hate them? These questions ran through everyone's head, even damian's.
Bruce and Alfred believed you had depression or PTSD but never said anything beacuse they wanted you to ask for help... but you never did. Everyone feard that you had let your past cloud your whole life. And you couldn't blame them for this worry and fear.
You would snap so easily, train to the point you were bruised and bleeding, never slept for more then 2 hours a night, barley ate anything during the day. They all worried about you and your mental health and you knew that,you really did. You did tried to forget your past, move on from it and be more open with everyone but the past always haunted you.
You grew up in an abusive household with you're so called mother and father. You're mother was a addict who died when you were 7 because of the drugs and you're father was a cruel man who thought he owned the world. When you're mother did died, your father never got over it and blamed you for her death. So he began beating you often, everyday of every hour to the point you nearly died.
That wasn't the worse part of it, oh no. The worse part of it was when your father, the man who was supposed to protect you from anything, would sell you off to other people for money. But he didn't care what they did to you along as he got the fucking money.
That's pretty much how Bruce came across you. It was a cold winter night when your father had beaten you and sold you off to another man who did unspeakable things. The man was also some crazy drug lord who Bruce had been trying to nail for weeks. You looked so broken and empty when Bruce had found you, his heart broke at the sight of you. All their hearts broke at the sight of you.
You were extremely grateful for Bruce and for everyone but you still felt cold and empty even with your new family around. Your past was almost engraved inro your skin like tattoos and every time you thought about it you went to train. Training was almost like an distraction for you. It helped clear your head and get your anger out.
You started punching the punching bag with brutal force, and bare hands....
"WHY?! WHY?!WHY?! WHY?! WHY?! WHY?! WHY?! WHY?! WHY?!" You didn't even feel or see your hands bleeding nor the blood dripping down the punching bag and onto the cold floor.
Bruce and the others heard this and immediately stormed into the training room to find you in this... numb and empty state.
"Hey... no, no, no, what are you doing?! Hey it's okay... you're okay.... you're safe... you're fine... look at me M/N. You're okay..." Bruce said as he gently pulled you away from the punching bag and into a hug.
You sobbed into Bruce's chest, as each scream and cry that left your throat broke everyone's heart. "I-i'm sorry.... I'm so f-fucking sorry..." you sobbed out. Bruce just rubbed your back, trying to comfort you. "It's okay... you did nothing wrong, you hear me? Nothing" The others soon joined in on the hug, each one trying to comfort you in some way.
They wanted to make sure you felt loved and safe... and you did in that moment for the first time in years, you finally felt at home.
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