#I could recognize that raspy voice anywhere

[screampied]

‘ #KNOCK(HER)OUT ! ’

ᡴꪫ‎ sum. you get more than what you bargained for by getting involved with two boxers—two boxers that can’t keep their hands off the pretty new journalist. what happens in the ring stays in the ring though…. right?

wc. 5.7k

warnings. fem! reader x t. fushiguro & s. ryōmen, boxer!au, thrēesome, manhandling, unprotected, semi public, size kink, ōral (f & m receiving), head lock, spīt, sqūirting, they fight over you, brēeding, fīngering, implied multiple ōrgasms, nipple play.

an. based on this ask, haven’t recovered since :,)

sukuna ryōmen and toji fushiguro. . .

the talk of the town. top most infamous boxers of your city, they were supposedly rivals but ended up becoming super close friends. 'friends' was probably a stretch. acquaintances was probably a far better word to describe the two. there was hardly anyone that didn’t tune into your detailed magazines about them—your occupation? a journalist. you’d be the first to write about their fights, their strengths, weaknesses, their total wins & losses, and even a few unnecessary things like their love life. you were new, but you were good. always in the front row, you’d watch them spar against some of the most scariest opponents imaginable. something about guys taking it out in the ring right before your eyes got your panties in a twist. how unprofessional..

you only did it for the money, the publicity— a lot of people adored your skill to make such stories so interesting. between toji and sukuna, they were almost always compared, and oh did they hate it. ex rivals continuously pinned against each other, it’d piss anyone off. although, you were in dire need for a new story topic to write and you just so happen to stumble into their private gym.

“yo,” a rough sly yet cunning voice mutters, and it’s so deep—you recognize it from anywhere, toji fushiguro in the flesh. “are ya lost? no fuckin’ autographs.”

“don’t be rude, ‘toj,” and your eyes avert towards sukuna— he’s a few inches taller and your eyes roam at them both. they had droplets of sweat racing down their washboard abs, scars coating their skin with ruffled hair as if they’d just finished a match. sukuna drags his feet towards you before his eyes light up. “ohh, i know you,” he snickers, grabbing your notepad before nudging his friend. “she’s our little journalist toji. and she’s a damn fine one too..”

“. . . uh,” was all you could make out, feeling a sudden tightness in your stomach. your eyes continue to stare, your lewd thoughts only become more and more vulgar. seconds pass before you realize sukuna took your notebook, toji pauses his sets to get a good look at you. “i thought this was the ladies' room.”

“girl bye,” toji grumbles with two hands buried into his shorts pockets— he reads right through you as if you were some sort of exposed novel. people said he was a lot sassier in person but you didn’t think it’d actually be true. green dark eyes linger onto you for a long time before he stretches, leaning down to get a good glimpse at your figure. “did you come here just to stare or what?”

you were taken aback at how blunt he was.

a coy grin appears on his lips as he watches you struggle to formulate a good enough response.

you were nosy, you were really really nosy. for once, perhaps you didn’t wanna just jot down things about these two— just maybe, just maybe . . you wanted a hands-on experience.

“i… needed new material for my article before the next match starts,” you utter, squeezing your thighs together. sukuna tilts his head, eyeing you in a way that makes you feel hot. toji’s stare was ten times more intimate, darkened irises practically staring right into your soul—you knew this wasn’t the bathroom, you were lying. “i was hoping maybe you’d give me some uh . . inspo.”

they were both towering over you with height, you felt small—like an ant that was preparing itself to be crushed by a villainous shoe.

“inspiration, she says?” sukuna hums, his voice is low—raspy, an almost purr hiding underneath it before he moves closer towards you. “just tell us what you really want, princess.”

“nah don’t get all shy now,” toji chimes in once he sees you grow more sheepish. they both close in on you—you felt like you were trapped in a fever dream, you weren’t exactly complaining either. they smelled so good, a mixture of sultry sweat and a loud scent of heavy cologne that wafts throughout the entire training room. “you got our attention so spit it out, girl.”

“i— i want you both.” you finally mutter after seven long consecutive seconds. with the way toji’s staring right through you, you felt like your stomach sank between your legs - your legs that were throbbing with nothing but mere arousal, again perhaps this was unprofessional. no, it was very unprofessional—but anyone would kill to be in your position, being sandwiched between the top two boxers of your city.

sukuna snickers. “both? what makes you think i’d wanna share with this bum?”

“shut up,” toji snarls, and the way his facial expressions tense a bit—so attractive. the headlines + press was right about toji, he was a lot more handsome in person. he was a fairly new boxer yet a pure lady's man. he’s had a plethora of fangirls while in the ring and maybe you were one of them. as he inches towards you with a hand softly gripping underneath your chin, he inhales. his entire facial structure, so chiseled—brief dark stubble coats the entirety lower half of his jaw and he rubs his left boxing glove against his left knee. “that really want you want? both of us?” and his voice softens. it’s a bit more pitchy and low, and he sneers. “on me, look at me when you reply too, girl.”

your lip gradually pulls down from his thumb playing against it. you felt so hot, the air suddenly felt thick.

a sudden lump gets caught in your throat before you mumble. “i want you both,” and your eyes meet the dark-haired boxer, simultaneously glancing at his attire— shirtless, boxing shorts on with his custom-made ‘fushiguro’ briefs wilting near the top—only showing the hem part. just a teensy detail like that was so enticing that you even spot a few parts of his exposing snatched waist. only after awhile you then abruptly snap out of your vulgar fantasm. “…please.”

“the real question is, pretty little journalist,” sukuna steps in, a hand stroking against your chin. you didn’t know where to even look. both boxers had their hands on you and the tightened squeezing between your plush thighs grew even more. “can you handle both?”

“yes.” you’d speak in a soft voice, most likely as of now you were probably speaking from between your legs—you didn’t care though, everyone’s a little delusional at some point. emphasis on a little in your case, because you had no idea what you were getting in to with these two.

toji snickers. “hm,” he mutters, eyes focusing on you for a long time before he raises his chin. “fine. let’s test your strength then,” and he briefly gazes at sukuna. “sukuna. we can take her ‘n the ring.”

and they mean it quite literally— taking you, the both of them versus you, except you weren’t relatively fighting.

not in that sense, but it was versus an opponent that was throbbing between your thighs.

the arena was empty, about a good hundred or more vacant blood-shot red seats scatter everywhere.

inside the ring, it was a mere raised platform, guided and shaped by strong stringy ropes that were yanking between poles at each side and corner. you lay on the spongy canvas of the ring’s floor before biting back a moan.

“scared yet?” sukuna hums, and he props himself right between your legs. this was risky—entirely risky, anyone could just walk in. besides, you were pretty sure they had a match in about a good forty-five minutes. with sprawled-out legs, he moved closer before dragging a thumb down your panties. his voice was a bit deeper than toji’s, they both shared the same amount of rasp.

sukuna had the charm, toji had the suaveness.

you shake your head, feeling yourself grow even hotter the more he stalls time. it feels warm, the entire air around you is humidly thick and you whine as he teasingly bites your panties. not enough to pierce his teeth into your folds, but he bites near the fabric—you watch, the string of your underwear slowly dragging with him. yet, you can’t help but glance at toji who’s just standing there—arms crossed and that same scowl that stuck against his face. “mhm,” he jibes, eyes flickering towards toji. “toji. she’s looking at you.”

“i know she fuckin’ is,” he grumbles, and your head tilts upward. you’re face first with his bulge that was right against your face. talk about space, it was right there. such a big bulge, who were you even kidding though—you found yourself gawking at his bulge at every match he had. with the skin-tight shorts he’d worn, you just knew he was nothing more than a packer. “nosy girl. y’er mouth bored or somethin’?” and he watches your hands paw at the hem of his tucked-out briefs. “need a bit of throat training, huh?”

sukuna’s playing with your panties still. by now, he’s peeling them towards the crevices of your thighs and you whine whilst you feel a thumb of his drag down your honeyed slit. sopping wet, just a three-second stare and he was suddenly esurient.

“look at me, not him,” toji lightly turns your head to face back up to him again. his bulge, his damn bulge that was right up against you. you nod, feeling your mouth dry—you wanted your throat to be filled, it wasn’t even a question. toji gruffs lowly, moving your chin side to side. “huuuh? girl, i don’t speak silence. thought i told ya how to use those words when you speak.”

“i- i wanna suck you off, ‘toj,” and you get cut off once he pulls his boxing shorts down halfway, bringing your face close to his briefs. you’re taken by surprise once he makes you rub your face against his hardened bulge—you moan, as if on instinct, your tongue lolls out just to taste him. even if it’s just the clothed fabric protecting his actual cock, it was something.

he scoffs. “y’er a nasty girl, huh,” he mumbles, peering down to see sukuna starting to lick against your cunt. your legs quaver upon impact and you slump back against the corner of the ring. “can’t wait, yeah. want me to train this empty throat? maybe it’ll make ya a better journalist, nosy ass.”

you’d almost laugh at his little side remark if it wasn’t for sukuna’s tongue lapping against your slick entrance. your lips part as you lean back, a hand going through his hair. “mphm,” he grunts, one hand squeezing the right part of your thigh. “sweetest taste i’ve had in a . . . looong while.” and he’s so sloppy, not even a few seconds pass before he’s already slurping. your panties were lazily shoved to the side and that’s when toji hauls down his briefs.

you gulp, damn.

he wasn’t just big, he was huge…

your mouth starts to salivate the more you stared at the swollen shaft. toji was a big guy . . hence meaning, toji he was a thick guy.

staggering height and a fat base to back it up, he had about two veins running down the side. his tip was a reddish pink, you could already taste him throbbing in your mouth. toji was quite well shaved a bit— though, it was a few specks of black hairs scattered everywhere. however, his happy trail was so pleasing to look. it roams all down his sculpted body, he sighs once you slowly wrap a hand around his cock.

“spit the fuck on it.”

five words and you didn’t hesitate to roll out your pink tongue once more.

you gather a good amount before watching it coat against his pink sweet tip. he groans, watching your hand stroke him a bit. he was so big, so fucking big that you could barely wrap your entire hand around his dick. toji groans, watching you make a total mess out of yourself. pretty glossy lips, pretty glossy lips that would soon be wrapped around his hefty length.

once you get it wet enough, you gently move your mouth onto him. he hisses, the warmth of your throat has his abs clenching.

“m-mhm,” you’d moan out, though your words were purely muffled. sukuna’s sucking on your clit, occasionally nipping and nibbling on it just to make you squirm even more. it was cute— the way your legs could barely hold still, so this was your weak spot. it’s what he thought to himself, lapping his tongue against your slick entrance. brief kisses coat near your folds before he maneuvers such circles against your pussy. feeling his canines nip against your folds every few seconds had you feral in the best way possible.

“y’er makin’ her squirm all over, ‘kuna,” toji lowly chuckles, such baritone in his voice that it makes you soak even more. you didn’t even know how it was possible with the way you were just profusely dripping like a faucet. not even—you put faucets to shame with how slick you were, quickly coating the lower part of sukuna’s chin with your syrupy taste. “open that mouth a ‘lil more, yeah . . . yeah,” and he tilts your head back a bit, prying your mouth open some more. he starts to slowly sink his cock in, so slow. the pace was incredibly tantalizing, your tongue runs against his slit before he pushed more inches inside. “fuckkk, girl,” he continues to grunt out, knees already starting to buckle. the way you took him in, hollow cheeks all puffed, you were already starting to drool a bit. small amounts of your saliva trickle past the corners of your lips as he goes deeper and deeper. deeper until his tip ends up mashing against your uvula and you gag.

“. . ooooh,” he hums, and just a simple noise as that was so seductive. “good…. good,” he swallows, a hand digging through your hair before maintaining a good grip against it. “now . . let’s test this pretty throat’s durability, hm.”

your little nod makes his sly smile widen, your jaw hangs and he starts to gradually piston his hips. such a mess, he was just so big that you were surprised all of it even fit.

“alllll the way down, shit,” your head starts to move, bobbling as your tongue swiftly running against his pulsating head. he gnashes his teeth together, dim eyes flickering towards your hands. you were feeling hot yourself so you made a cute attempt at reaching between your legs. doing so only greets you to a soft concise smack.

“hands to yourself, silly girl,” sukuna grumbles, and this time he grabs your wrist. he simpers, watching you try to even still rub one out but with his grip, you weren’t getting anywhere. as your mouth was occupied with such inches, you whimper once you feel sukuna spank your cunt a few times. “don’t touch my pussy.”

one turns into two, then three, then four. . .

your pretty cunt starts to become his new obsession—the way you’d squelch for him so easily, he gets hard in his boxers. so wet, he knows the layout as if he’s so used to doing this. you wouldn’t be surprised, especially with a tongue like he had. lapping left and right, he parts your legs just a bit farther before the tip of his tongue swirls all around it. he lays it flat, getting a good enough taste before giving it yet another mean spank.

you whimper, feeling your tummy cave in before toji makes you face him once more. “eyes up here, eyes on me,” and he sounds almost jealous the more you focus your attention strictly on his boxer acquaintance. you’re still stroking him, a thumb sliding down a vein that prods alongside his shaft and he groans. your throat, so warm that he starts to feel his right thigh bounce. “should be . . usin’ this throat for shit like this instead of running that mouth.” his voice pitches lower, boxer shorts pulled down and his hair was slightly ruffled. you stare up at toji and he gives you that same cunning smirk. oh, you were soaked. again, this simply felt like a fever dream. even if at the slightest chance that you were dreaming, you never wanted to wake up.

toji’s quite talkative throughout the entire thing, sukuna’s dragging you further and further onto your incoming release and your legs start to rapidly shake even more. you whine and mewl out such sweetened moans, occasionally coming back up for air as you kept his cock warm in your mouth. each time it hits the roof of your mouth, you let off a straddled noise and he finds it so cute, so filthy.

“relax y’er throat, girl,” he mutters, a firm grip on your scalp. with glossy eyes, you follow his words and you stop gagging a bit. he grunts, getting hard every time your pretty eyes make direct contact with him. “such a pretty girl when you listen.” and his tone gets a bit more sensual, more tender.

you whine, feeling sukuna insert a single finger inside of you—you swallow his digit almost immediately and you cringe at hearing your own salaciously lewd squelches.

soaking, sopping wet,

three perfect words to describe between your legs, you choke out a moan once you feel that sensation brew right up inside your stomach. steadily, it was coming closer and closer. you’re breathing through your nose—feeling a few of his pubic hairs tickle against you. you’re moaning, eyes becoming half-lidded and droopy. toji had a mere pout stretching against his face and he felt himself coming close too.

the icing on the cake was your tongue, the way you swirl and slide it against his frenulum—he groans out a low grunt that rings throughout the arena. it reverberates, it's raspy and it only makes you even more aroused. “s-shit, you close too?”

you nod, and toji jeers, finding it amusing to taunt with you as you’re about to reach your inevitable peak. “yeah? gonna make a mess on ‘kuna’s face?”

“told ya don’t call me that,” sukuna grouses, resuming to pump not one but two fingers into you now—you’re almost there. it’s a hot feeling stirring up near your lower abdomen, a pool of it. your eyes start to roll, still slobbering down toji’s cock before he starts to thrust and thrust into your mouth.

“make me.” toji stared at him—and the both of them grew quiet before laughing with each other.

idiots.

your maw opens just a bit wider, and he’s shoving himself in and out of your tight throat—the noises that follow are so lewd, he finds you so pretty like this. mascara all smeared and runny, your hand continues to wrap around his length—his sagged base, so full. you start to salivate again, imagining what his taste was like. you craved it like you crave sweets, sukuna’s tongue running against your clit only made things far more intense before you start to convulse.

“f-fuckkk, ‘m gonna cum,” toji rasps, tilting your head back a bit more. you stare at him, tongue still grazing against the pulsing slit before after a few more pumps—he shoots a nice velvety load into your mouth. he grunts lowly, nostrils flaring up, jaw tightening and all. “. . damn,” he swallows, allowing himself to slow down. you end up finishing around the same time, costing sukuna’s mouth with a honeyed amount of your slick and he hums. you whimper, legs barely able to hold themselves up before you feel toji’s dick pour the remnants of his cum flat on your tongue. “nah, don’t fuckin’ swallow yet. stick it out, lemme see that shit.”

your legs felt like they were about to fall off, sukuna’s kissing near your now swollen entrance and you slowly loll out your tongue. obeying, you didn’t exactly swallow yet and he hums. “best savor that shit,” he groans, giving his veiny cock a few subtle strokes before he smacks his angry tip against your tongue. “and where’s my thank you for the meal, baby?”

“t—thwak y—you toji,” you speak, barely coherent with his seed splattered all on your tongue. you didn’t wanna spill any, and if you did—you didn’t wanna stick around to find out his reaction.

“yeah,” he huffs. “you can swallow now. get every drop in.”

sukuna moves towards you, you’re still laid on the ring’s mat before he softly wraps a hand around your throat. “hey. don’t let this bastard have all the fun, i want a taste too,” and you're taken by surprise once he pulls you into a deep steamy kiss. you moan, feeling him quite literally take your breath away. your tongue drags against sukuna’s chin, the bitterness. a concoction mixture of your saliva and his mixes, and you whine once he snakes a hand up your blazer. you taste yourself on his tongue and it’s so dirty, hot breaths mash against each other, teeth gnashing, and only then do you feel his cunning smirk.

“no one told you to hog her,” toji grumbles, pulling you back towards him. you briefly gasp for air and they both stare at each other, then you. “tell me, baby. who’d you think win in a fight? me or this . . . thing.”

sukuna glares.

“i don’t … know,” you pant out, heaving from your current orgasm—so cute, yet you only wanted more. from kissing sukuna to having your throat entirely filled, you didn’t know which was better. “can we finish?”

“aw, is someone impatient?” sukuna titters, and you stare at his glistening body—beads of sweat race down his precious v-line, the ideal body for a boxer. you just couldn’t stop staring at his pecs, so chiseled. you even thought his pictures were edited, but seeing them up close . . you wanted him, you wanted both of them. “hm. how ‘bout this? we teach you a few ah, moves. full nelson to start, ‘s pretty easy.”

easy, sure.

with it all being easy, you’d least expect to be put into a full nelson position. a mere popular wrestling position, although you’d be performing it with no one other than sukuna.

he’d have you slump back against him, hooking both arms underneath your thighs as you’re taking such mean thrusts from him. time and time again, you’re spasming out. mouth all open, saliva running down the very corners of your lips before you moan. “s—sukuna, oh my godddd,” and you glance up at toji who’s got a cute pout, stroking himself. you lost count of the time, it’s probably been about a good thirty-three minutes by now, thirty plus minutes of various teeth shattering orgasms. your head hits back against him and each time his tip smacks against your cervix, you short circuit. “fuck, fuck, right there, hit it thereee.”

“you coachin’ me how to fuck, dumb girl?” he chortles with a groan shortly following—he was so deep, the heftiness of his base taps against you each time you bounce back against his cock. he sucks his teeth, the way you easily took him had him groaning all up against your ear. “gotta get a little more stretchy, we gotta . . hah, work on your flexibility too, huh.”

“sukuna hurry the fuck up. watching you fuck my girl ‘s boring as shit,” toji grouses, pumping his cock into his fist every few seconds—you stare and he’s so needy, you could tell. his scowl he had earlier forms into a cute pout, dark eyebrows furrowing together and he’s growing impatient.

you caught that though. ‘my’ girl.

who would have thought toji . . the womanizing boxer who’s never had time for any woman throughout his career would start batting for you?

“your girl?” sukuna snickers, resuming to hold your legs up a bit further. he reaches so deep, that your stomach starts to seize and your maw drops. hooded eyes, your lashes flutter and you felt continuous strained breaths get yanked from your lungs. “your girl yet she’s gettin’ fucked by me? the better boxer?”

toji snarls, and he kneels to kiss you. you moan, barely able to return the gesture since you were in the midst of taking sukuna. with being gifted with such sharp thrusts, you dig your nails into his thighs before running tangling your tongue alongside toji’s. his breath was warm, you whine once you feel one of his hands stroke your cheek.

“aha, look at him. already whipped before me,” sukuna snickers, feeling you sink and gape around him—he stretched you out so good already, it was so relentless. each time you bounce back against his lap, the ringing in your ears grows louder and louder. he feels his dick twitch inside you. seeing you make out with toji irks him a bit before he spanks your ass—the recoil making him even more aroused than before. sukuna hums, seeing the current pout on toji’s face before nodding, “aw. toji wants a turn too, yeah? don’t ya . . big guy?” and he intakes a breath, your pussy constricting around his length as sukuna pulls you further to slam back and forth against him. you’re moving against him now as his dick jackhammers right into your gummy was. your mouth idly dangles with your tongue stil shamelessly lolled out. a raw moan rips from the back of your throat at the pure feeling of utter bliss.

so thick, so girthy—you gasp once you feel his fingers tend towards your neglected tits. toji shortly follows, a hand going between your thighs. your cunt was all stuffed of sukuna, feeding your swollen pussy was so many inches. “hngh, f-fuck, fuckkk,” you’d whine between wet, saturated kisses. toji purposely feels against your folds, all stuffed and sopping wet. he rubs a thumb against your slick entrance as your legs were just about to give out. “toji, m-more. need you to touch me more.”

“you don’t need shit, little girl,” he corrects you, squeezing your lips together before presses a kiss against it. you moan, your ass stinging every few seconds from the stings of sukuna’s palm making direct contact against your ass cheek. spank after spank, oh how he adores the jiggle. he could watch it all day, even in slow motion if he could. “such a cute thing though, had the nerve to say you thought our training room was the fuckin’ ladies' room.”

you cringe once he repeats that. the same ringing going through your ears once more. your ears perk, hearing sukuna’s raspy grunts against the shells of your lobes before you start to stammer, “toji, touch me.”

“i’ll touch this messy body when i wanna,” he gruffs, leaning to nip kisses near your neck. sukuna’s still holding you up—you’re like a rag doll, eyes goggling from the stretch before you start to feel it. not your orgasm, but something entirely different. it was a new type of pressure, sweet whiny moans emit out of you before you feel sukuna’s rude tip thrash against your g-spot again, and again, and again..

toji’s thumb softly strokes underneath your neck as he pulls you into a short kiss. you whimper, pulling away before spreading your legs a bit further.

“i— something’s coming, i f-feel tingly.”

sukuna roughly laughs against your ear, seemingly getting what you were implying. “yeah, gonna make another mess on us, princess? oh. i mean on me, heh?”

you shudder, your pussy feeling entirely stuffed and your eyes merely roll way back. he fit nice and snug, you bare around him before a whine drags out your throat. so deep, so so deep, you’re spasming—each relentless piston of his hips makes you whine louder. a feeling that was purely euphoric welts right against you, and you’re laid all back against sukuna’s bare chest, riding him in reverse. “c-choke me, ‘kuna, choke me, please.”

“want me to put you in a headlock, yeah,” he whispers to you in a rough low voice. you moan, feeling him lick against your earlobe before toji strokes your cheek. you could tell he wanted a turn too, the pout on his lips stretching even further. you’re nodding against him before your cunt gapes more. “sure. i’ll let you in on what my opponents feel, pretty girl.”

you moan, his voice was so low up against your ear, you’re about to cum. or were you, you swallow thickly despite having a sudden dry throat— voice all raspy and strained from moaning for such a duration that your head’s woozy. it feels too good, your thighs ache and quaver before you feel a beefy arm wrap around your neck. “upsie daisy, thereee we go,” and he scoots you on his lap just a bit farther. he’s buried to the hilt. you moan, toji pulling you into the nth kiss of the night, lips moving in pure tandem. just when you’re about to finish, you feel him rub against your stuffed cunt once more. yet that’s only when you decide to move your hands towards the boxers . . . nipples.

“t-the fuck,” he grunts in a hoarse tone, his voice was suddenly a bit shaky. it was cute—you couldn’t lie to yourself, you found yourself staring at toji’s chest way more often than you should. practically always shirtless, his pecs were huge. such pink swollen nipples, you slide a thumb against it and he shivers from your touch. “fuckin’ weirdo. ‘m sensitive there, s-shit.”

he doesn’t tell you to stop—instead, he grips your hair not so tightly but firmly. you look up at him, speaking in a tiny yet sheepish tone. “can— can i?”

“can ya what?” he grits, watching as sukuna continues to feed your cunt of his cock — you were just about to burst, you felt it and your toes clench and curl all up. so cute.

with a thumb still sliding against his pecs tenderly, you murmur. dilated pupils flicker towards his chest, then back up at him. “. . can,” you huff out in short breaths, tummy seizing, breathing hot and heavy. “can i suck on them?”

“no you can’t fuckin’ suck on them. what kinda question is tha—”

“toji, don’t be fuckin’ mean. you claim she’s your girl so let her suck your tits, big guy.” sukuna chimes in, releasing his soft grip against your neck. you gasp, leaning way back against him now. he was so warm pent up against you—you whimper out, sukuna leans against your ear and he starts to talk you through your incoming orgasm. “right? wanna make toji a little whiny bitch?”

“shut the fuck up,” he rasps, and his pecs literally stare at you—so beefy, you could have sworn they twitched. he groans, watching you give him such eyes before he inches closer towards you, bending down. “…….fine. whatever.”

still grinding against sukuna’s lap, you hold toji’s pecs before latching your tongue against it. his face scrunches up and it’s so cute, for whatever reason, the way your tongue curls against his perky nipples feels … good. awkwardly, he pulls your head closer towards his chest, eyeing closely as you briefly start to suck. as usual, you were so sloppy too—moaning up against his sensitive skin, rolling your tongue all against his nipple.

“nasty little g—girl,” he chokes out.

you glance up at him, parting your lips away before he makes you go back to tending to his tense nipples. “i didn’t tell you to stop. use y’er fuckin’ tongue some more. and stare at me while you do that . . . weird shit.”

toji’s voice significantly pitches and you’re so into it that you don’t even realize that before you know it, you end up squirting. everything comes at once, you’re pulsing with sukuna’s cock still twitching vigorously inside you and you whimper, mouth still sucking onto toji’s tits nipples. low laughter could be heard from behind you, and it’s all so much. your pussy was equivalent to a waterpark, gushing out all into sukuna’s lap. “fuckkk, princess,” he chortles, slowing down your hips and he ends up finishing a few seconds after you.

when he came inside, it came out quite a lot too. a hefty amount, it came out in ropes to where he paints the entirety of your womb. so warm from the inside, your tummy briefly caves in and your legs felt like mush.

“heh, did you just squirt?” sukuna points out, cock still twitching inside but he just lies still. you’re stretched out literally on the mat, seeing pure stars— the lights of the arena merely blinding you before you lie back against him. “a squirter and you’re tapping out already? aw boo. ‘n here i thought you could handle a few more rounds in the ring, princess.”

“i— i can,” you protest, parting your lips away from toji’s sheeny pecs. your lips were spit-glossed, he stared at you before squatting down to stare at the mess right between your legs. so messy, sukuna lifts you off of him and it just pours right down between your thighs. “i can go for more.”

toji hums, taking a quick three-second glance at his watch. “five fuckin’ minutes, ‘s all you’ll get with . . me,” and it’s cute because a mere pink forms on his face.

he’s still embarrassed from you sucking on his nipples that he tries to act all tough—but that only makes his tone quaver even more. “match’s gonna start soon. sukuna, let’s take her both.”

he snickers, pulling your shirt that was tucked underneath your blazer all the way up.

“both?” and sukuna lifts you to sit on top of toji, straddling him. you were being preparing to be overly stuffed with not one but two cocks. you fall face forward into toji’s broad chest, the coldness of his chain that wraps around his neck brushes against your skin before he helps you align yourself.

you moan, feeling sukuna get behind too—you gulp, toji’s fondling your breasts that almost poke out through your unbuttoned shirt whilst sukuna was behind. you’d be taking them both— one in each hole. “can you handle us both at the same time, pretty girl? toji’s known for his record of lasting a good ah . . . two solid rounds.”

toji glares, feeling himself start to open you up again. with his plump crownhead of his cock, he splits you open, and he is a tad thicker than sukuna—you moan, wrapping flimsy arms around him before sukuna enters from behind with toji focusing on the front. “shut up. you say that ‘n act like i won’t k.o. you right now.”

“oh yeah?” sukuna cavils, and you gasp, landing on the cold canvas with an 'oof' once the boxer lightly places you down. you pout—glancing up at the two of them who were having a face off at a time like this. sukuna already pulled out and they stared each other down before toji slyly smiles. “is that a fact?” and for a brief moment, he leers down at toji’s sheeny lips— the dark-haired boxer slides his tongue against his scar before humming.

“don’t play, you know it is,” he replies, giving you one ogle before turning back towards his rival. “y’know, ‘kuna. you sure talk a lot of shit but you couldn’t even pin me down if you tried.”

sukuna rasps lowly, inching closer before they were inches apart—you thought they were gonna kiss at this rate. oh, something like this would be such a good inspiration for the headlines.

“if you wanted my attention, should have said so,” sukuna sneers, rubbing his hand that was carefully wrapped up in a white bandage against his slim torso. “besides, i think we all know who can last more rounds.”

“did you two just forget about me—?” you furrow your eyebrows, literally still soaked and laid against the corner of the ring. they shoot you a glance before turning back towards each other.

toji scoffs back at sukuna, ignoring you. “prove it then. pin me the fuck down, hot shot.”

“bend the fuck over then, big guy. we’ll show the pretty journalist who’s gonna win this night’s match. round fuckin’ one.”

#★vegasbaby. #toji x reader #toji smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #toji fushiguro smut #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna ryomen x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #anime smut #female reader #jjk drabbles #cw sex mention #cw breeding

[seattlesellie]

don’t cross the line

pairing: ellie williams x reader

warnings: smut (mdni), cheating, angst, mutual masturbation, just morally wrong, mentions of alcohol

Parties in Jackson fucking suck.

It’s not like youve ever been at a different party, but still. You’ve read about them in the little magazines from the old days you found on patrols. Small blurbs about meaningless celebrities, a concept you barely even understood, drinking themselves to oblivion. Paparazzi pictures of young starlets in black limousines, rappers getting coked up in dark bathrooms. You never really got it. Parties in Jackson were like a parallel universe.

“They must have made that up” you told Dina, your best friend and trusty patrol partner. “Nope” she shrugged. “Heard that Paris Hilton girl was really like that.”

Paris hilton would have hated Jackson parties. A bunch of old people, and a handful of young ones, dancing around to the beat of an old country song, if you could even call that a beat.

You could have responded with a simple “No thanks” when Jesse had invited you to tonights party. You could have told him you were tired, busy, sick, he would have left you alone - But you didn’t, alas, this is how you found yourself here. Alone, in an old barn, listening to the batshit insane, drunk ramblings of an old fart named Seth.

“Ripped that fella’s throat with just one move” Seth mumbled, laughing stupidly at his own words.

“Go — got him real good n’dirty, I tell ya”

Whoever said “respect the elderly” clearly never met Seth. His breath reeked of whiskey and cigarettes that he traded for food and supplies, and my god, he was standing so close you could see the veins in his yellow tinted eyeballs. You really were too polite for your own good, you thought to yourself, because Ellie would have shoved him away already.

Ellie.

You felt like slapping yourself in the face. What the hell does she have to do with this? Why can’t you just let it fucking go already? It truly was desperate, and pathetic, and borderline immoral, the amount you spent thinking about that girl.

So what if she used to be your best friend. So what if she was the first girl who ever made you feel something, even if it was too late. She has a girlfriend, and she’s not thinking about you, she doesn’t care, maybe never has, probably never will. She left you for her, with that useless excuse of “Cat doesn’t like it when we hang out” followed by a pathetic “We can do it in secret, though.”, when she saw your eyes turn glossy and your breath hitch up. Fuck her, and fuck those memories. Fuck all the nights you spent together telling each other your deepest and darkest desires, and especially fuck that time you almost-

“Hey”

You'd recognize that voice anywhere.

A royal blue flannel button up shirt appeared at the corner of your eye.

“Mind if I steal her for a sec, Seth?”

She sounded raspy, laced with that velvety layer her voice had adorned whenever she had a sip or more of Whiskey. When you drank together for the first time, at the ripe age of sixteen, next to a big bonfire and the ever so familiar scent of pine lacing your sense of smell, you told her that she sounds different when she’s drunk. More mature, somehow. Less fidgety, slower, sultrier. She replayed that sentence over and over again in her head. “Sultry”, she whispered to herself. “I sound sultry.”

Seth cleared his throat, a deep cough escaping his lungs.

“Of course, pretty girl like her shouldn’t be around me for too long, might start acting all wild!” The old man threw his hands in the air, and disappeared somewhere in the scarce crowd.

Your heartbeat was faster than normal, but that’s not new. Not when she was around, anyways.

Ellie stood by your side, hands crossed over her chest. She had a glass of Rum in her hand, not Whiskey. Funny.

“You’re a Rum type of girl now?” you questioned, never meeting her gaze. If you bothered to look to your side, you would have noticed she was staring.

“Fame’s changed me, I guess” She responded, mixing the fluid in her glass.

One week ago, Ellie went on patrol. One week ago, Ellie killed more infected in one go than anyone else had in years. She was the town’s hero, the infected slayer. Cat even made her a badge. She wasn’t wearing it now.

“Cat or fame?” you quietly mumbled under your breath.

You weren’t spectacularly brave with your words, but one glass of presumably expired white wine made a simple girl go very far.

“Hah. Funny” she scoffed dryly, earning her Rum another pointless swirl.

“You’re the towns hero, I’m the towns comedian, we’re both pretty famous, i’d say.”

Ellie’s gaze was fixed on the wall. She squinted her eyebrows slightly, humming in response. You looked over at her, for just a second, noticing the dim light reflecting in her eyes. She was a sight to behold, the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen. You wish she knew that. You wish you could be the one to tell her.

You inhaled deeply, and it came out so shaky that when you exhaled you were terrified she heard the tremor in your body.

“Thank’s for the save, by the way” you said quietly, apologetic. You even smiled politely, which was absolutely for nothing, because she wasn’t looking at you, avoiding your gaze like the plague.

It’s not like Ellie and you didn’t talk since that night she told you she couldn’t see you anymore. It’s been two whole years. You had to talk, you had to communicate somehow, even if it was through polite smiles and dry conversations during shared patrols. Hell, you even went to Cat’s birthday party you somehow were invited to. Dina was practically on her knees begging you to come with her, and who could say no to Dina when she looked at them with those puppy eyes that could tug at a monsters heartstrings?

“Yeah, no problem. That man’s a fucking dickhead” Ellie scoffed, leaned against the bar and crossed her legs.

“Where’s Cat?” you questioned. Are you sure you only had one glass of wine?

“She’s not here” Ellie responded dryly, seemingly annoyed at your question. She almost tsk’d when you asked. She didn’t look surprised by your rude antics, maybe you got like this more often than you thought. How about that time you told her you’re surprised Cat didn’t pack her a sandwich with a sticker on it’s wrapper during patrol?

“I can tell… why?” you inquired. Your own voice was deeper too, it almost matched hers.

“Didn’t wanna come” Ellie said, stuffing a hand inside her pocket. She was uncomfortable, clearly, and wanted, needed, to make you shut up. It’s not because your presence annoyed her, It’s because she knew she was wrong. She knew she fucked up when she ditched you, and if only you knew how it was eating her alive every day. She had to do it, because in her eyes, she would have done something much worse if she hadn’t.

Being around you when she wasn’t with Cat was hard enough, because she knew she could never have you, that you’d never want her. Not if you knew. You were too smart, and too good, to ever want to be with her. Cat was easy, she didn’t ask too many questions. She’d lay there for Ellie when Ellie told her to, and she would agree to stop a conversation when it got too personal. When Ellie cried at night, and woke up sweating, she didn’t ask why. She let it go, and Ellie knew you never would have. You’d fucking hate her if you knew. She could have saved the world — and she didn’t. He didn’t let her. The wounds she had were too deep, they were clawing and tugging at her skin from the inside. Ellie was a tortured soul, and you didn’t deserve that. That’s why she left, and maybe, that’s why she was here right now.

“That’s too bad” you mumbled quietly. You did your best to make it sound genuine, and you failed miserably.

Ellie scoffed.

“Yeah”

You shifted slightly, and walked over to stand right in front of her. You met her eyes for the first time. Those stupid, beautiful emerald eyes.

Ellie looked down, and looked up at you. She swallowed deeply.

“Anyways” you sighed. “Think I’m gonna go”

“Already?” she questioned, slamming her Rum filled glass on the bar counter.

“Yeah, I’m cold and it sucks in here, so” you said, and smiled politely. It really was freezing, and talking to her like this was painful enough.

“Let me walk you” she blurted.

What?

“Huh?” walk you where? the door? you knew where it was.

She tugged at the loose string on the bottom of her button up. It was ironed, where did Ellie find and iron? Did Maria do it for her? Town hero perks?

“Let me walk you home” she repeated, her voice carrying a touch of insistence. Once again, you found yourself captivated by her burning gaze, those eyes that seemed to hold secrets yet to be unveiled.

“I can walk home alone, Ellie” You huffed, ever the stubborn.

“No” she exclaimed.

“Maria said it’s been pretty dangerous”

“I can have my own back, you know, I’m not an idiot” You scoffed. You knew she didn’t think you were an idiot, why did she have to walk you home?

“I know that — Just wanna make sure you’re safe”

“Gosh, Ellie thank you! thank you!” You said in the most high pitched voice you could fathom. “The town’s hero is at it again, everybody!” You exclaimed, slightly raising your voice, earning both of you a few curious looks from the townspeople.

Ellie wasn’t embarrassed. She was just annoyed. And she wanted to slap you in the face for being so stubborn.

She grasped your arm with an unexpected forcefulness, pulling you along as she swiftly guided you outside. In the process, you accidentally bumped into a few people, hastily muttering a string of apologetic "sorry" and "excuse me" as you hurriedly tried to navigate through the crowd. You attempted to resist her firm grip, trying to free yourself with a burst of strength, but you found yourself overpowered by her determination.

Once she managed to pull you outside, she finally released her grip on your arm, allowing you a brief respite from her firm hold.

“You are not walking me anywhere, Williams” you scoffed. What made her think you needed her help?

“You’ve always been so fucking stubborn” she turned to face you. Her hands were on her hips. Her face wore the same expression she did when you went on your first patrol together, when you insisted on going left, even though she knew you had to go right.

“I’m walking now” you stepped away, and started walking. “And if you followed me — you wouldn’t be walking me home, you’d be stalking me” you exclaimed as you backed away.

Ellie quickly followed your pace, her boots stomping on the snow covered ground.

“You are”

Step

“So fucking annoying”

This was the longest conversation you’ve had with Ellie in two whole years. It felt like nothing’s changed, except for everything.

The following ten minutes were torturous. You were walking fast, Ellie right behind you. No words were exchanged between you, the silence enveloping the crisp air as you both walked in silence. Your attention turned inward, focusing on the sensation of the cold air filling your lungs with each breath, and the soft sound of Ellie's boots pressing against the creaking snow beneath her.

You finally arrived at your place. It’s grey exterior blanketed in a pristine layer of snow. Every inch of its structure was adorned with a delicate coat of white.

You turned around to face her.

Ellie’s skin appeared slightly flushed, with a rosy tinge highlighting her cheeks, and her nose bore a noticeable reddish hue, hinting at the crisp winter air. She didn’t say a word.

You took a deep breath. She looked cold.

“Want me to make you some tea?” you questioned. You didn’t mean to let her in, and she didn’t expect you to ask. She looked surprised, her eyebrows turned slightly upwards.

“M’fine” Ellie insisted, her voice resolute despite the chill in the air. She sought warmth by tucking her hands deep into the pockets of her dark green coat.

“Jesus, Ellie — Just come inside” you urged, the concern evident in your voice.

“If walking you was stalking wouldn’t coming in be breaking and entering?” she inquired, a sarcastic tone lacing her words.

“Just —“ you uttered, your voice trailing off as you reached for the doorknob, slowly opening the door.

“Come inside”

"Fine," Ellie relented, her resolve wavering as she decided to follow in your footsteps.

The house welcomed you with its cozy warmth, though slightly disorganized in its appearance. Yet, amidst the subtle chaos, it remained a comforting sanctuary, always your safe space. Being there brought a sense of solace, as if the troubles of the outside world faded away. And with Ellie's presence by your side, an inexplicable tingling sensation spread through your being.

You proceeded to heat up some water, carefully attending to the task of preparing tea, a familiar ritual.

Ellie never knew where to sit, or where to stand, so there she was, examining every single one of your movements. The air felt thick, like you could cut the tension with a switchblade.

"Your house looks different," she murmured in a low voice, leaning against the cream-colored wall.

“Bad different?” You questioned, taking out two mugs from the cupboard.

“No, just… more stuff” she murmured.

"Well," you uttered as you gently placed the teabag into the awaiting mug. “You haven’t been here in a while, so”

Ellie hummed in response, and bit her lower lip.

“You’ve kind of changed too.” you murmured.

“Tattoos looking bigger. And you look more tired. Plus, your shirt looks ironed, so maybe you even… showered? Woah.” you teased.

“Fuck, you really are funny huh?” she said, crossing her arms.

“Always were a sucker for my jokes” you responded with a sly smile.

She didn’t mean to say what she said next, because that was like opening a pandora’s box. Or, more like, the gates to hell.

“This is the longest conversation we’ve had in years” Ellie murmured. You handed her the green colored mug, your finger brushing her’s for a second. You both flinched.

“Mhm” you took a sip from your tea. It was still so hot, it burned your tongue.

“And who’s fault is that?” You questioned, raising your eyes to meet her burning gaze. It was incredibly impulsive.

Ellie rolled her eyes. She looked baffled.

“You still don’t get it, do you? She questioned.

“Get what? that your girlfriend doesn’t like me? trust me Ellie, I get that, crystal clear.” You smiled, as you slammed your mug on the counter.

“I’m not doing this right now” she declared, her tone firm and resolute.

Oh, did that sentence burn through you.

“I think you are” you stepped forward to face her. She looked terrified, like a lost puppy. Not so “town’s hero” now. Thank god she wasn’t wearing Cat’s badge, because she would have looked ridiculous.

“I’m not” she said quietly, looking at the floor beneath her.

You felt the ever so familiar lump forming in your throat. She owed you.

“Tell me what it is exactly that I don’t get” you spat. The pent up anger from all these years finally just fucking bursted. She left you. She left you for her, your best fucking friend.

“It’s just funny how she didn’t give a shit about Jesse, or Dina, or anybody! Just fucking me, right? I’m the fucking problem?” you blurted. Your voice was shaky, filled with rage. The tears in your eyes started forming. You didn’t even know how much you were holding it inside of you, it all overflowed, at 2AM, right in your kitchen. Right where she told you she couldn’t see you anymore.

Ellie was frozen, her mouth parted slightly. She was flushed, and it showed. It wasn’t the cold weather anymore, it was you. She didn’t expect this to happen so fast. She came inside for some fucking tea.

That’s when you shoved her. And she didn’t even fucking move.

“Don’t fucking do this to me” she begged. Her voice was desperate, and shaky, and what the fuck was she hiding?

You found yourselves standing uncomfortably close to each other, the proximity palpable. The warmth of her breath gently grazed your forehead, creating a tantalizing sensation that sent a shiver down your spine.

She took a deep breath.

“What I did was bad. But — fuck, Jesse and Dina never slept over, you know that?”

The room fell quiet.

“So?” you whispered. You couldn’t even look at her.

“Don’t do this” she begged. Her eyes were glossy. She looked as if she was about to cry, too. Her chest was pressed up against yours.

“I’m not doing anything” you mumbled quietly. Her body was so warm. You felt like you were about to have a heart attack, and Ellie felt like she already did.

“If I would have stayed… I would have done something… so much worse” she whispered. Her hands were trembling.

“What would you have done?” you whispered against her. Dangerously close now. You could feel her unsteady heartbeat.

“You know” she whispered back. You saw the vein on her neck, how beautifully spattered the freckles on her skin were, like a constellation.

“Please” you begged.

That’s all it took.

Almost.

"No," she whispered, her voice barely audible. The proximity between your lips was almost intimate, an agonizingly close distance.

“Please” you begged.

Her eyes were dark, breaths unsteady and fast, like she just ran a marathon. Her chest was rising up and down. She’s dreamt of this moment, for so fucking long. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t fuck more people up. She’s done more than enough.

“You don’t know what you fucking do to me” She whispered against your skin. Her eyes were shut closed. If she didn’t see, maybe it would’ve been less wrong. If she didn’t see, maybe Cat wouldn’t either. She could go home, kiss her girlfriend good night. Walk away. But there you were, pressed up against her, making her head spin like a carousel, fogging her brain with your scent, and your lips, and all of the times she pictured you like this, helpless and begging. She never looked at Cat how she looked at you. Cat never made her feel like she could faint at any given moment. Cat was safe, she was a sunny day. You were a thunderstorm, a cloud, soaking her up. When Ellie said she would have done something so much worse, she meant that.

Cat was right when she told her to stay away, she always was. When Ellie begged Cat to stop her ramblings, Cat told her she looks at you like she’s hungry. That it’s disgusting, that she wishes it was her. She was crying, and begging, and she was right. That’s why Ellie knocked on your door that way. One person she could save.

Ellie’s hands were firmly pressed up against the wall, locking you in.

“You dont know…” she whispered.

You whimpered silently at her words. You were aching everywhere, you just needed her to do something.

“Show me” you said, and it came out more as a plead. You were begging her.

Ellie leaned in, drawing her face closer to yours, and your lips delicately brushed against each other. The electrifying touch sent a shiver down your spine, evoking a soft, involuntary moan that escaped your lips. It went straight to her heart, and then slipped right to her cunt.

Her lips were plump against yours. Just barely touching.

She delicately brushed her lips against yours, causing a gentle collision that sent a jolt of electricity through both of you. A shaky breath escaped her mouth.

“Ellie…” you whispered. Ellie, just do it. you can’t take it anymore.

She abruptly slammed her hands against the wall, causing it to tremor ever so slightly. The suddenness of the action startled you, making you jump in response.

“Shit” she huffed.

And her lips weren’t against yours anymore, neither was she.

Ellie backed away. She couldn’t.

Your lips quivered, and there it was. Her precious thunderstorm erupting.

The tears came out hot, and sticky. They ran all over your cheeks. You let out a quiet sob. Ellie was staring, her breaths uneven and her mouth agape. She almost did what shes been dreaming of doing since the moment she saw you. Almost.

your legs betrayed you, giving out completely. You crumbled down onto the floor, unable to stand any longer. With tears welling up in your eyes, you instinctively curled up, bringing your head between your legs as you tried to suppress the sobs that threatened to consume you.

It was a truly pathetic sight, Ellie towering over your quivering body. It’s been two whole years, and you missed her every single day that passed. It was gnawing at you. Seeing them hand in hand, kissing on the street, making out behind the dumpster. Thinking of Ellie hugging her at night, caressing her skin, touching her everywhere, telling her she loves her, fucking her, tasting her and not you. It should have been you. But it couldn’t be.

If only you knew that when Ellie was between her thighs, you were the only one she thought of. If only you knew Ellie had to bite her lip till it bled to stop from screaming your name. That’s why Ellie always turned off the lights, That’s why Ellie shoved Cat’s face down on the bed with her entire palm when she took her from behind. That’s why she always closed her eyes.

Her body gave up on her, too.

She sat on the cold concrete floor, trying to steady her breaths.

“Look at me” she commanded. It was breathy, and shaky, more of a plea than a real command.

You wiped your tears.

“I can’t” you whispered.

“Please” she begged.

You mustered the strength to lift your face, raising your gaze to meet hers.

“I think about you all the time” you blurted.

She huffed in response. Your soft voice was killing her. She couldn’t even respond. She just watched.

“Ellie…” you whined. The distance between you was torturous. There was so much space, and at the same time, no space at all. You could still feel her lips brushing against yours. You wished you could taste her. She yearned for that even more. She felt like something was chaining her down to the floor, holding her captive.

What you did next, is something Ellie had buried deep inside her darkest fantasies.

You delicately caressed your smooth neckline, doe eyes burning through her’s.

Ellie swallowed deeply.

“What are you doing?” she mumbled, lower than a whisper. Her voice was raspy, and her pupils were blown out. She was imagining, for sure, hallucinating, intoxicated by the picture of you being pressed up against her. It couldn’t be real.

“I need you” you whimpered.

She almost crawled right to you right then and there. Her knees were spread open in front of you. Her breath hitched in her throat. Her heart felt like it was leaping out of her chest.

“You cant” she insisted. It felt like she tried to convince herself, and not you. You couldn’t. There’s no way.

“I want you” you whispered, lowering your hand to caress your breasts.

Something took over you. Being pent up with frustration for years birthed such a desperate sight, she couldn’t fathom it.

She grunted in response. Do that again and she’d lose her fucking mind.

You cupped your breast.

Ellie threw her head against the wall. She forgot how to breathe. Her nostrils were flared, and she almost slapped herself in order to convince her that this was real. This was happening.

“Holy shit” she wheezed.

“Please” you begged, and squeezed your breast forcefully. Your nippled hardened against the material, so you gave them a twist, sending a bolt of electricity right through your clothed cunt.

Ellie’s mouth was agape. She was transfixed, mesmerized. Her cheeks grew more red by the second. It was so fucking wrong, she almost told you to stop, but she couldn’t. Her voice felt dry and her brain was buzzing. Her ex best friend was so desperate for her she couldn’t even help herself.

The image of Cat went through her head. Cat seeing, walking in. Cat trembling and crying, telling her she told her so. Cat screaming at her that she’s an awful person, that she hurt her, That she should burn in hell.

Then, you took your shirt off.

And Cat was gone.

Her eyes were darting from your tits to your needy eyes. You were giving her that look she only saw in her dreams. That desperate, pathetic twinkle in your eye. She saw a girl look like that in an old porno she found. Ever since, that picture of your face replacing the actresses burned through her memory. She knew it was for her, you were showing her, but she looked like she wasn’t supposed to see, a peeping tom, a pervert. Her cunt twitched inside her tight black boxers. Cat never made her cunt feel like this.

The dainty lace bra adorned your body. you looked like an angel, eyes red from crying, cheeks still wet, chest rising up and down. She wanted to ruin you.

You stopped for a second, looked for a sign to keep going.

The room was silent, the only noises that muttered were your soft whimpers and Ellie’s harsh, uneven breaths.

“Take it off” she whispered. You almost couldn’t believe she said that. You nodded pathetically. She always knew you’d be like this. She imagined you nodding your head frantically, kneeling beneath her and undoing her belt, way too many times she wouldn’t dare to admit. Her heavy breaths were a confession to all of her sins.

You unclasped your bra, your tits spilling out of it with a sigh of relief.

Ellie was hypnotized, fully staring. She remembered the first tine she saw you in a bikini. Jesse noticed she was staring, and he gave her some advice. “Look at the ground or the sky, pretend there’s something super interesting going on there”

She didn’t need to pretend now.

“Fuck” she grunted, feeling her cunt twitch inside her briefs. Her mouth was agape, she wanted those nipples between her teeth. Her tongue slightly moved involuntarily inside her mouth, imitating the kitten licks she’d give your tits if she could. It was truly pathetic. Thank god you couldn’t see. Her fists were clenched, and she was forcing her feet onto the ground. If she pretended something was pulling her in, she wouldn’t crawl towards you and take you like she always wanted.

You toyed with your nipples, rolling them between your fingers, almost as if you read her mind.

“Spit on ‘em” Ellie demanded desperately.

“Ellie…” You whimpered, her voice was making you grow wetter by the second. If you took your pants off, she could see the wet patch that soaked through your panties, making them almost sheer. You were almost embarrassed, but it was too late now.

“Do it” she commanded.

“Do it for me” Ellie begged. She brought a hand up to cup at her perky clothed breast. She imagined it was you, your tits between her fingers. She wanted to squeeze the fat, take it in, spit on it, latch her mouth onto your nipples, slap them as you ride her thigh, or her face, or her whatever the fuck you wanted.

The saliva ran down your chest, droplets flowing at an incredibly slow pace, each and every one of them teasing Ellie, mocking her. Almost there, almost reaching your sensitive nipples. When it finally did, Ellie was breathing so heavy she almost wheezed.

You rubbed the spit all over your tits, glazing your nipples with the liquid, coating them shiny with your saliva - all for her. You were staring at ellie with your mouth open. You moaned at the sensation, making Ellie shift and slightly slide off the wall. She was gone.

“Feels so good” you whined.

“Fucking shit” She huffed. She bucked her hips, searching for that friction. She didn’t do it yet, but oh she will.

“Mhhm” you hummed, a high pitched moan escaping your lips.

Ellie almost went cross eyed.

“Need you, please” You whispered while massaging your breasts. You were squeezing the fat harshly, almost punishing yourself for being such a dirty, desperate girl.

“Show me” She begged, in between breaths.

“Show me how bad - shit”

You cupped your cunt, your hand feeling warm over it. Your clit twitched. Ellie let out a moan so deep, you almost came right then and there, all over your panties.

You circled your clit through your pants, teasing Ellie without even realizing. I can do it, and you can’t! It felt like you were mocking her.

“Take that shit off — fuck” she huffed. Her hand was resting on her thigh, pinching it. Stay down. Don’t crawl, don’t fuck, don’t cheat.

In a matter of six seconds, your pants were on the floor. You crossed your legs together in embarrassment. What if she saw how wet you were?

“Spread” She commanded.

You looked at her stupidity.

“Spread ‘em, please” Ellie begged.

You spread your legs slowly, revealing your soaked white cotton panties to Ellie. Her eyes rolled back at the sight.

“Fucking shit” she grunted.

Her hand met her own cunt and gave it a stinging slap, followed by a desperate grunt. She moved her veiny hand up and down, almost grabbing her pussy. She felt perverted, and sickly, and so, so good. The friction of her hand on her cunt was followed by a string of deep moans, chanting your name like a prayer. She didn’t even know how bad she needed it.

“Wider” She commanded.

You spread your legs so wide your thighs almost hurt. When Ellie saw that wet spot, she lost it.

“So wet” she whispered in disbelief.

“Show me that pussy” She whimpered.

“Show me that fucking pussy”

You moved your panties to the side, the cold air hitting your clit making you flinch. You swore you could cum just from clenching in and out, listening to the obscenities leaving her mouth.

“Holy shit” She moaned, and cupped her cunt forcefully.

“So pretty” she whispered. It was even prettier than she thought, glistening folds and a little puffy button poking out. She needed to see inside, everywhere.

“Spread it with your fingers” She grunted. You parted your lips with your pointer finger and your thumb, wide open for her. She saw how bad you were clenching, begging for something inside. Your puffy clit moved with every pull.

“Wanna fuck you so bad” she groaned, it was killing her.

“Need to see you Ellie, please, please” you begged.

With that whine leaving your mouth, Ellie unzipped her jeans, and pulled down her boxers slowly, revealing you of the most beautiful sight youve ever seen in your life.

Her thighs were creamy, a mound of soft, dark hair adorning her pubis. Her slick was shining on her milky inner thighs from the boxer briefs she took off slightly brushing on them. She was so wet, it almost glistened like a far away star, deep in the galaxy. Her mouth was parted and she looked famished.

Tiny droplets of sweat were shining on her forehead, making her hair stick to her face. She was a panting, desperate mess.

You couldn’t help but slide your hand up your thigh, and started running your fingers through your glistening folds. Finally. “Oh god, Ellie” you moaned. You wished those were her fingers, if you could, if you only could.

Ellie moaned like a porn star at the sight. You thought she might tease herself, might play with her cunt before doing something. She proved you wrong.

She slid two long fingers inside her aching hole, squelching sounds filling the air. She pumped them in and out, fucking herself like a madwoman. Her hungry eyes were fixated on your fingers caressing your needy cunt. Her mouth was watering, borderline drooling, soft “ah!”s escaping her lips.

You circled your clit slowly, and felt your lower stomach leap at the contact. You lapped your slick with your middle finger, and sucked on it. It was obscene. Ellie’s cunt twitched. She almost came.

“Good girl” She groaned at the sight.

“Faster” She commanded, a deep moan escaping her lips.

You fastened your pace, and she was looking you directly in the eyes while pumping her fingers inside her cunt. With every pump, you could see a milky cream coating her fingers, the sight alone made your puffy clit ache with pleasure.

It was so wrong, and obscene, and pathetic, and you almost came.

“Fucking shit — fuck yourself, show me, fuck yourself” She whimpered, fastening her pace as well. The moans that left her mouth were deep, bursting from the inside of her soul.

Her fucking ex best friend.

“E — Ellie m’close” you whined, inserting a finger inside your soaking hole.

“Can see how fucking tight you are - fuck”

“Faster, do it f’me baby faster” She groaned.

The harmony of your moans intertwined, creating an intoxicating symphony.

“Ellie — gonna cum, fuck” You babbled, drool running down your chin. You were so close, eyes rolling to the back of your Ellie filled brain.

“Please fuck me, please fuck me”

“Cu — Fuck, shit, m’cuming” Ellie grunted.

“Say my fucking name” She demanded, her words coming out so sloppy and ridiculous.

“Ellie — Ellie! Please!”

Ellie almost screamed. She wanted to tell you to come for her, wanted to hear the noises youd make, see your face twist and the screams of her name, but she couldn’t help herself, the sight of your desperate cunt and the look on your face, so stupid, so cumdrunk, so pathetic, begging her to fuck you - brought her to the edge. It errupted inside of her like a volcano, pumping and squeezing on her fingers. She rode her orgasm until it tickled and hurt.

When you came, Ellie almost shed a tear.

This wasn’t just wrong.

This was vile.

She pulled up her pants up and left without saying a word, too embarrassed to look you in the face.

When she got home, Cat was sound asleep on her bed. She gave her a delicate kiss on the cheek, and whispered;

“I’m so sorry”

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fanfiction #the last of us #ellie williams x you #wlw #lesbian #ellie smut #ellie williams angst

[chococoveredsmores]

Like anything miles 1610. I feel like everyone is writing for miles 42 and forgetting about the og!

midnight cravings - miles morales

SUMMARY: texts at 3am + a mcdonalds notif = a recipe for chaos

WORD COUNT: 561

A/N: i love midnight snacking. mcdonalds always hits harder at 2 in the morning! also sorry i keep writing miles in like situations where he isnt usually 100% Himself (sleepy, sick) so um,.. i will get to a proper one soon

WARNINGS: nothing seriously bad just fluff, food i guess, reader doesn't know miles is spiderman, reader is highkey a simp

"Ugh..." You wake up with a groan, rubbing your eyes and assessing your surroundings. Noticing the still-dark environment surrounding you, you reach out for your phone which was on the bedside table.

2:42 AM. The phone lights blare onto your face, causing you to squint. As you scroll through your notifications, two catch your eye— a text bubble from Miles sent a few minutes ago, and a promo from McDonalds for their new meal.

Miles’ message was rather cryptic, and a normal person wouldn’t understand what “ruawkkekkrkx” meant. But a few months of these kind of typos (which meant Miles was either on patrol or barely awake), and one learns the language.

On the other hand, the McDonalds notif… if it was a propaganda technique, it was definitely working on you. You click on the advertisement, and damn did that chicken burger look good…

You decide to go back to Miles’ text. After opening the app and keyboard, your fingers feel too heavy to type… so you tap on the call button instead.

After exactly three rings, he picks up; in place of his normally spunky voice was a low, raspy one.

“Hey. You good? What’s with the random call?” Damn, his voice was unintentionally sultry as hell. Would it be weird if you started screen recording? He wouldn't know, right?

Ahem. Anyway.

"Oh, I'm fine, a little hungry though. I just didn't wanna type. Um, nice voice by the way." You hear a chuckle through the screen.

"So, you hungry? I mean, I could like, get you a snack or whatever."

"It is literally 3 in the morning right now." Though you expressed disapproval at what he said, your facial muscles tugged into a smile.

"Whatchu want?"

One link to a McDonalds meal later, you're patiently waiting in a now dimly lit room, phone in hand and still in bed. You decide to watch a show while waiting.

You're midway through your show, engrossed in a particular fight scene when you hear your window open with a click. Your fight or flight senses kick in, and you jump out of your bed and grab your phone and lamp (it's the nearest weapon, so...).

You watch as a dark figure comes out of the window in fear, you are ready to swing your lamp and dial your nearest police station when the figure raises both their hands in the air, to signify peace...?

The person pulls up their mask to show their face, one that you'd instantly recognize anywhere.

"Miles!"

You drop everything and sprint to his arms— literally nothing, not even a meteor, could stop you at that moment from wrapping yourself around his lean figure. Miles places his hands on your back, and the two of you relish in each other's presence.

You wish the two of you could stay like that forever, but the enticing smell of a chicken burger and drink eventually draw your attention towards it and you pull away from him.

"Can we talk about how the hell you got to my window with me living in the 21st floor? I seriously thought that the moment you clicked open the window was going to be my last for a few seconds."

Miles smiles and slightly bites his lips, and God forbid the kinds of things you would do for this man.

"Maybe over a chicken burger?"

a/n: to be completely honest i cringed so hard typing this fanfic but i just need to finish it so i hope none of you umm.. feel what im feeling rn at my own writing...

#atsv #across the spiderverse #spiderman: across the spiderverse #itsv #spiderman: into the spiderverse #spiderverse #atsv x reader #miles x reader #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #miles morales fluff #miles morales imagines #miles 1610

[erisenyo]

"could you please come and get me?" I'm BEGGING🙏🙏🙏

For this prompt game! (And also this one!) (Andthis one too lol)

(Can be read as a follow-up to this)

“…and, like, everyone goes through phases!”

Hakoda hastily unfolds from his very undignified stretch at the muffled sound of Sokka’s voice, wincing at the protest of his sore back. Bato keeps saying he’s eventually going to value his posterior chain enough to stop taking red eyes no matter how cheap they are, and one day Hakoda is actually going to listen instead of making jokes about posteriors.

“—and sisters, you know? They never let go of anything no matter how old you all get, and they always take things too far—”

Hakoda glances again around the dim lit, tidy shop as if maybe the angle of the sunlight will have changed, vaguely pleased and surprised that Sokka is here so early as the faint jangle of the admittedly-huge keyring filters through the door.

It’s hours past when they usually open, of course, but judging by the timing of Sokka’s late-night-scarfing-down-dinner phone calls, he’s been working plenty past when they usually close.

“—not in a creepy way or anything, obviously. Just a joke. A bad one!”

Not that Hakoda was really worried. And he was right to now really worry! There’s nothing blown up, no scorch marks or tools missing because Sokka really needed a good shearing weapon for his robot-killing robot, no half-deconstructed engines and piling-up repairs because Sokka is sure he’s figured out a way to get more efficiency out of the whole system.

“—and that one is totally new, anyway. I had no idea it was even there! And so, um. High definition.”

Those this Audi sitting in the middle out of the shop, which is very out of place for Wolf Cove to begin with, let alone in Hakoda’s shop…

“And I mean, you know how sisters are!”

Hakoda does have some questions about that.

That Jesk kid better not be involved, or whatever his name was...

“Or—right?” Sokka’s voice is suddenly clear as he finally finds the right key to unlock the office door. “You—maybe? I mean—you—or—”

“Yeah,” a husky, raspy voice cuts in, faintly amused, and Hakoda pauses in surprise as he realizes Sokka isn’t on the phone. “I have a sister.”

Hakoda glances curiously through the office window as Sokka flicks the lights on, bright light illuminating the office and the break room and the car bays one by one, revealing his son—dressed for work, not starving, not injured, good—and the lean, black-on-black clad boy behind him, and Hakoda feels his eyebrow jump up in surprise.

Ah. He recognizes a pretentiously pre-worn designer leather jacket when he sees one. That would be where the car came from, then.

“And,” Sokka hurries on, darting nervously around the office as he wakes up the computer and sets down his coffee and Hakoda’s other eyebrow slides up to join the first. He can recognize Sokka’s cover-his-ass voice anywhere. “It’s not like I would recognize you out of context anyway without, you know. Or with, or—and so, like, it's not like I was being weird or anything, or like, trying to lock you in the basement or something, or—fuck.” Sokka scrubs his hands over his face before pasting on a bright, game smile and marching toward the car bays. “Yeah, I’m just going to stop talki—Dad!”  

“Sokka,” Hakoda greets him, giving the other boy—not a boy, Sokka hates being called a boy, he reminds himself—a curious look. “And…?”

“Oh,” the boy blinks, freezing a little. “Uh—”

“I didn’t realize you were coming back,” Sokka hops in, hurrying over. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to grab a few things from the house, see you and Katara a bit,” Hakoda assures him, reaching out to give Sokka’s shoulder a squeeze and offering a smile to the other boy as he trails Sokka after a moment across the shop floor. “Who’s this?”

“How’s Gran Gran?” Sokka asks as the boy hesitates, mouth half-open.

“She’s doing well, things are coming along,” Hakoda says, cocking his head to get a better look at the boy. He’s definitely familiar—not surprising, with those nearly-gold eyes and scar and the kind of cheekbones that Sokka loves to trip over—but Hakoda can’t quite place… “Are you one of Sokka’s college friends?” Shit, Hakoda should know those. He at least knows it isn’t…what was his name, Tamu? It’s definitely not him…

“Ah, no,” the boy says, shifting on his feet and flicking a quick look to Sokka. “Wh—"

“How long are you back for!” Sokka says over top of him, eyes wide with interest and that’s definitely his cover-his-ass voice again…

“Just a few days,” Hakoda says absently. Is it one of Sokka’s high school band buddies? They used to always be hanging around the basement and crowding into the kitchen. “I haven’t seen around town,” he says slowly, the sense that he knows this kid niggling at the edge of his thoughts.

“…No,” the kid agrees after a beat, equally slow.

“Yeah,” Sokka says quickly, voice coming out high. “He’s not from around here!”  

“This is your car?” Hakoda asks, because the kid might not look much like a trombone players but he does look like a speed demon.

“Uh, yeah,” the kid says, glancing at the sleek red lines where Sokka’s set the Audi out with pride of place dead center in the middle of the shop. “Sorry?”

“Sorry?” Hakoda blinks, momentarily distracted from the nagging familiarity of the kid.

“I broke down,” the kid shrugs, apologetic, and Hakoda can only give him a bemused look.

“It’s what we’re here for,” he says. And they’re certainly going to charge him for it, with a car like that—and Hakoda will be making sure he’s charged. He recognizes that look on Sokka’s face…

“Right!” Sokka says, overly bright. “Car repair!”

“A full-service operation,” the kid murmurs, cutting Sokka a sideways look.

“We strive to be,” Hakoda says proudly, giving Sokka his own curious look as his son chokes a little, blushing. Oh yeah. Hakoda is definitely making sure this kid gets charged.

“Car repairs!” Sokka says loudly, clearly powering through…whatever is going on. “We’ve had a lot of those! Want to—” he glances quickly around. “—the books! Want to see them? Or the—I can get you up to speed?” he suggests half-desperately. “On everything?”

Hakoda makes a vaguely affirming noise, listening with half an ear and mostly watching the kid who is in turn watching Sokka, looking faintly bemused by and more than a little curious about Sokka’s immediate, exhaustive, relieved, highly detailed account of the past month.

Maybe he’s a new teacher in one of Sokka’s art classes? He thought they were all old men by Sokka’s description, but this one seems like an artsy type. Though why he’d be here and not back in Republic City…

The kid gives Sokka another sidelong look through his lashes that really isn’t all that subtle to anyone other than Sokka, and ah, that could be a reason.

And he can tell Sokka likes his friend back from the fidgety, half-nervous, half-hyper way he’s shifting his weight and playing with his bracelets and rings and he better be fucking taking those off before work, Hakoda’s not trying to have anyone lose a damn body part inside an engine. At least the earrings are out…

Hakoda thinks, though, that he really would have heard of the kid if he’s following Sokka cross-country to keep him company. But then, maybe that’s why he has the persistent, nagging sense that he’s met or at least seen this kid befo—

“Oh!” Hakoda suddenly exclaims, snapping his fingers as realization hits. “I know you!”

“You—!” Sokka trips a little as the kid startles, giving Hakoda a half-surprised, half-cagey look. “You should really hear about theorderthatPakkutriedto—”

“You’re the boy from the poster over Sokka’s bed!” Hakoda says, triumphant and Sokka cuts off with a high, strangled noise, the kid opening his mouth and nothing coming out.

“The one where’s he’s all shirtless and oiled up?” Hakoda prompts when Sokka doesn’t say anything, pleased to have placed it. “Remember, you got that fancy photo editing program for it? So you could cut him out of the full shot and enlarge the size? And Bato took you to that special print shop in Whale Harbor to get it done out on the special poster paper?”

The kid slowly transfers his stare from Hakoda to Sokka, who is looking more and more like a deer trying to freeze to avoid the notice of an oncoming car.

“You know, for your eighteenth birthday?” Hakoda reminds him, concern fluttering in his chest when Sokka doesn’t immediately latch onto the topic like he always does. “Because you couldn’t find any magazines big enough to see from that far away?” He definitely isn't misremembering, he knows he isn't...right?

The kid slowly closes his mouth, eyebrow inching up higher and higher.

“And you’d filled up all your wall space, so you needed to move to other surfaces? And Katara said you weren’t allowed to put anything up in the shower?” No, he's definitely right. Hakoda had been quietly and intensely relieved by the shower edict enough to be sure.

“I,” Sokka finally says, mouth working, “I, uh.”

“Didn’t you recognize him?” Hakoda frowns, reaching out to feel Sokka’s forehead.

“Yeah, Sokka,” the kid—shit, Hakoda still doesn’t know his name though—says, pointed, “Didn’t you recognize me?”

“I…need to go now,” Sokka announces, suddenly fumbling in his pockets.

“What?” Hakoda blinks, confusion threading alongside his pleasure at finally placing the face.

“What?” the kid half-laughs, startled.

But Sokka just whips out his phone, already marching away, his face crimson and voice echoing off the high ceilings, “Katara? Yeah, I’m—yeah, I’m still in town. Yes, I know that you're on nights, I—yes, I—look, could you please come and get me?” A pause. “No, I—actually, yes. I need to go die now, please. Not here.”

Hakoda stares after Sokka as he finally shuts the office door behind him, bemused, scratching the back of his head and shifting his attention to the kid who looks like he doesn’t know whether to worry or laugh again.

“Well, I’m Hakoda,” he eventually offers, extending his hand and biting the bullet that it’s okay to not know this one’s name, they probably haven't actually met before, “I’m his father.”

“Zuko,” the kid says after a beat, accepting his handshake—strong grip, callouses, no eye contact but that’s okay considering he’s looking after Sokka. “I’m, uh. The guy from the ceiling?”

Hakoda huffs, half-amused and giving him another quick look—and then his hand a slightly harder squeeze. “Grown up a bit, have you?” A lot less oil, too. And a lot more clothes.

Same cheekbones, though.

“Uh—so has he? Since then?” Zuko hazards, glancing toward the office where Sokka is…screaming into a pillow, by the looks of it.

“One could say that," Hakoda says after a beat, thinking of Sokka’s last trip to Whale Harbor and the poster tube he’d come back with happily cradled in his arms. “But maybe not as much as you’d think.”

#Hakoda is so proud of himself #He is going to get a good grade in Dad and in remembering his son's interests and hobbies #A thing that is possible to get and desirable to achieve #Sokka and Zuko are quietly dying and Hakoda is just there like 🙃 #asks and answers #prompt games #fic writing #my writing #Sokka #Zuko #Hakoda #Zukka #Zukka fic #Rockstar Zuko AU

[imaginesinthewind]

Blood of my blood

Pairing: Jon Snow x f!reader

Summary: The night before the Battle of Bastards, promises are exchanged between Jon and you. Inspired by an Outlander quote from Jamie Fraser. If you recognize it, you earn a cookie.

A/N: A small fluffy Jon Snow drabble, because I can't sleep. Very tooth-rotting romantic. You are warned.

"Where were you? I looked for you, over there."

You would have recognised that voice anywhere. Raspy, soft, deep. And low.

The cold was biting your cheeks, causing them to turn more pink than usual. As the last men were exiting Jon's tent, where the last war council was held, you realised that you had been standing there for way too long, staring into the nothingness, ghosts dancing across your eyes.

You slowly turned around to face Jon. His black curls were held backwards, making him look more and more like his father; not only in looks, but also in attitude. He looked tired, and worried. But a cold determination was glowing in his gaze.

His arms slowly came to surround you, pulling you towards him and his comforting figure. And suddenly, it seemed that the ghosts you were facing silently faded away.

"You're worried," Jon noticed.

A small sigh escaped your lips, and your hands came to rest on his shoulders, playing with edges of his armour.

"I only just got you back," you whispered, avoiding his eyes. "And... I mean, if anything were to happen--"

"(Y/N)", Jon cut you off.

A callous hand lifted your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"You don't need to worry yourself sick about me. I've been through way, way worse."

The hint of a smile danced across his features.

"I will always come back. You should know that by now. Plus, there is only one thing you need to worry about."

One of his hands softly caressed your baby bump, almost invisible to the naked eye. You had told Jon a few days ago; and now, more than ever, it was like his actions to take back Winterfell from Ramsay had some kind of undergoing urgency.

He held you closer to him, and your head came to rest on his chest. You remained there for a few seconds, content in his embrace, breathing slowly.

"Promise me," you finally whispered. "Promise me that you will come back to me."

There was a moment of silence. But then, Jon pulled you away from him. His face looked serious and soft at the same time as he looked at you; like you were the moon of his life. The one and only thing that made sense.

"I can do better than that, love."

His harsh northern accent contrasted with the softness of his voice.

You frowned, and watched in disbelief as Jon suddenly got on one knee.

"Jon," you began, but he cut you off again.

"No, (Y/N). Let me do this, once and for all."

He grabbed your hand and squeezed it. Suddenly, Jon, your childhood love, the one you had lost and found again, looked desperate.

"I don't have anything to offer you, (Y/N). I have no lands, no titles. But I know this. When I'm with you, I am no longer this commander everyone expects me to be. I am just a boy in love, all over again."

Jon stood up again, and grabbed both of your hands.

"You are the blood of my blood, bone of my bone. I gave you my body and you gave me yours, so that we could become one. So, please. If I win this, be mine. Marry me."

Your heart grew bigger in your chest, as if it was about to burst. Burst for this sweet and devoted man in front of you.

Your vision blurried, and you nearly threw yourself in his arms.

"Oh, Jon..."

You closed your eyes and held him tight.

"You are worth all of these things, and more even. I love you. Yes, I will marry you."

Ramsay Bolton would not live to see another night on this earth.

Somewhere in the dead of night, Jon made an oath to himself.

#got imagines #jon snow imagines #jon snow x reader #jon snow drabble #game of thrones #jon snow one shot #jon snow x f!reader

[kenslilove]

᯽៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ Happy Birthday, Shoei

a.n. Yes, I’m obsessed with barou n yes ofc I had tu write him a birthday piece. It’s funny bc I always seem to get bursts of creativity whenever it’s my favs bdays. They just— deserve to be celebrated yknow? Anyway, this is self indulgent, enjoy <3 Reblogs, comments, and feedback are greatly appreciated <3

W. Somnophilia, sloppy head, spit, gagging, female pet names, barou n his big phat cock <33

Barou was a heavy sleeper. Once he found himself comfortable in clean sheets, feeling you curled up into his side, not much could wake him up from slumber.

This morning was no different; sleep was heavy in his head, yet consciousness was coming to him slowly and groggily. His body seemed to be awake before his brain, because his hips were twitching, muscles in his abdomen and thighs tightening up, flexing under soft sheets.

Your palm was the next thing he felt. He’d recognize your touch anywhere, even in this half-awake state of his. Small and delicate fingers smoothed over his hip bone, traced his adonis belt before travelling down, down…

“Fuck–” The groan bubbled free from this throat, low and raspy and still full of sleep. Your hand had cupped his balls, massaged them and circled them in the base of your palm as if you were luring him from sleep. Now that he was becoming more coherent he could feel your sweet, warm pants against the vein that ran up the underside of his cock, the air conditioning hit his already wet and very swollen cockhead.

“Mornin, King.” You murmur, voice still sounding a bit far away to his ears. Shoei wasn’t sure now if it was because he wasn’t entirely out of dreamland, or because you wrapped your lips around him again, suckling on his tip like a pacifier.

“God fuckin’ damn–” His head tilts back into the plushness of his pillows, black hair fanning out around him as his Adam’s apple bobs with the force of his low, baritone moan. His muscles loosen enough for him to finally lift his head, hair momentarily in his eyes which were still slit with sleep.

He’s met with your beautifully flushed face, plump lips wrapped over his cock, palm fisting at his base to keep his heavy cock upright. Your chin was shiny with spit, knelt between his flexed thighs, ass swaying a bit as you pulled off him with a wet pop.

Shoei could have sworn he saw little hearts in your gaze as you pressed your cheek against his cock, and nuzzled the hard flesh while pumping him slowly.

He had them too, those heart eyes, though he’d never admit it.

“Mornin, Princess.” He sighs, lifting a palm to rake it through your hair. He cups the nape of your neck, thumb rubbing up against the soft spot behind the back of your ear. Your eyes fluttered at the feeling, a little hum leaving your lips as you left open-mouthed, sloppy kisses along his shaft. In each one he felt the warmth of your tongue, felt dribbles of drool pool at his balls, and it only made his cock ache further, twitching and quivering under your touches.

It was times like this Barou did not mind a mess.

“Happy–” You let your tongue run through his slit, refusing to let his bead of pre-cum roll down his length. “Birthday.” You finished softly, batting your lashes at him. “Happy Birthday, Shoei.”

He huffs fondly, palm tightening on your nape only to guide your mouth back to his tip. You open up without any fuss, sinking on his cock until your cheeks feel puffed. Until he sits snuggly in your throat and leaves it bulged out. Until your nose is nestled up in his well-trimmed and manicured pubic hair.

You sputter a bit, gag even and choke just a little. And yet you stay right there, mouth full and eyes watery. He continues rubbing that gentle flesh behind your ear, his elbow now wedged behind him and keeping his upper half upright.

“Thanks, little love.” His voice is still deep, and low, although sleep has fully faded away now. When he feels your fingers start to twitch on his balls his index finger taps at your jaw, your cue that you’re allowed to finally raise your head.

Drool connects your swollen lower lip to his dick in strings, some of them snapping back and sticking to your already messy chin. You suck in a few quick breaths, your sweet little hand massaging your saliva into his shaft and Barou expects to exchange a few words with you before you get back to it. He was ready to tease you about how long you had been sucking him off in his sleep, or if this might have been a birthday present.

But Shoei didn’t get the chance. Your mouth was back on him, lips pushed out on either side of him to suckle his tip comfortably. Your eyes are wide and watery, looking at him all doe-like, soft and gooey. This time, he chuckles, his hand finally moving from your nape to pet at your hair and make your lashes flutter. Your cute whines vibrate all the way through his cock, waves of pleasure making him swallow hard, roll his hips just a bit so his cock could feel every corner and creves of that mouth he loves so much.

“Eager little thing…” He simply murmurs, allowing you to continue to bob your head shallowly, suck and slurp at his dick like it was your favourite thing. “Gunna make me cum for my birthday, are you?”

You nod, because there was no way you were disconnecting from his lenght again. Not when he started leaking more pre against your tongue, and defiently not when you started to feel his balls twitching for release in your hand. Instead, your words are grabbled around his girth, a semblences of words that make Shoei smirk.

“Mhm, first present of the day.” <3

PROPERTY OF KENSLILOVE©️PLEASE DO NOT COPY, REPOST OR TAKE TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM‼️

#blue lock #blue lock fanfiction #bllk smut #bllk fic #bllk drabbles #blue lock drabbles #shoei barou x reader #shoei barou #barou smut #barou shoei smut #barou x y/n #barou x reader #barou fluff #barou x you #bllk barou

[lady-ashfade]

Like moths to a flame- The deal.

Yandere crows x fem!reader. Characters: Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa, Nina zenik, Jesper Fahey, Wylan Van Eck, Matthias Helvar.

Notes: not much yandere tendency in this one but it’s a set up for the future. I have not read the books. Honestly I hope this okay! (No Matthias in this, because I am trying to learn how to do him-Some way good)

Taglist: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @babyblue-chaos @2234world @missbeeentertainment @multifandomconfusion

Warning: cringy writing, mistakes, but nothing to worry about!

The sound of cards, coins clinking and hitting the table, the smell of alcohol and sweat mixed with hint perfume of the woman in the place. Voices from each part of the place was overwhelming, you couldn’t hear yourself think. It was a good tactic for the place, makes the stress higher.

You could’ve gone anywhere else because surely there were more people willing to help you, but strangely you felt at easy with the place. Maybe it was because it was new to you from your kept any life style. Everyone here was different then you, most bastards and lowlife but you felt envy of them. You felt guilty for wanting the chance to be like them because even you wished for freedom. In their shoes it wasn’t easy and most of them wouldn’t even life to see tomorrow but that’s the similarity between the two. You both had obstacles to over come.

Scanning your eyes you head over to the bar and took notice off all the eyes shifting to you. Well dressed, jewelry that cost probably more then they had seen in their life. The cleanness of your skin and the most noticeable thing about you, the moth pin on the back of your head. “What’s someone like you doing here?” The man behind the counter asked. You smiled at him and held your hands together, “I need to take to your boss- Or the man who runs this place.” It was unusual how kind your voice was, like it had all its innocents intact.

“Hmm, are you sure you have the right place?” He looked you up and down. You nodded your head then reacted into the pocket on your belt and pulled out two coins. “I have plenty of money, if you could be so kind as to maybe tell your boss about me I would appreciate it.” You slipped a note on the table with the money, “And tell your boss what I need done is worth a lot, king of the barrel worth.” Shooting him one last smile and bowing your head.

Walking away from him and toward the door you kept the smile on your face as you look at the the place. “Leaving so soon?” And voice came up behind you. The voice was raspy and deep, like the sound of the night sky or the clouds on a rainy day. Then there was the sound of a few clicks on the floor of what sounded like a cane. Turing around to face the man who you recognized immediately even if you had never seen him before. His pale skin and dark circles, the black outfit and the hat on top of his head, then there was the gloves that gripped the cane. The gold crow on the tip.

“Kaz brekker, a pleasure.” Giving him a slight bow you bent your knee, he watched you with a scowl on his face and what looked like confusion at your actions. “Your business here?” He asked straight away sounding harsh but you had no offense. “I have a job for you if you’re willing to take it.” You whipped your hands on your dress as they started to sweat.

He arched a brow, “What does one of The Five need help here?” You blushed at the recognition because you knew it was strange. Of course you knew you were going to be recognized by everyone, you were one of the houses considered “royal” here. “What you should focus on is that you know I have money,” you smirked at him, “there is a note for you with the bartender.”

He looks at you and tries to read your attitude, it was too sweet, something had to be wrong. “Just think about it?” There was the sweet voice again that for some reason made his mind twist but he convinced himself it was the thought of money. He watched you walk out the bar with grace and almost pure light and he didn’t believe in saints or fate…But there was something about you.

His mind began to wonder about the offer and what he could do for you, surely you wouldn’t need anything stolen. And it couldn’t be killing or then again, you might think this was where to get it done. “Interesting.” He said loudly to himself and looked at the door you walked out almost picturing you.

“Who you talking to boss?” He turned around to see Jesper looking at him with a smirk and he could tell he was being teased. Rolling his eyes at his friend and walked passed him, “Might have a job.” The other man follows him to the bar and watched as a note was given to him.

“What kind of job?” He spoke curiously and intrigued. Kaz took a moment to read the note and the slight change in his face, however small, Jesper could tell it was something off. “What’s it say?” He pressed on and lend on the table for the other to respond. Kaz took a moment to think, “Well?” He looked at Jesper as the man annoyed him. 

“Meeting tonight, tell the others.” And without anything else he limped away with his cane. The shooter threw his hands up and leaned back onto the bar, left with no answers. “Oh, well Jesper since you’re apart of the group I will give you the information.” He signaled the bartender to get him some shots as he talked to himself. “Because you have risked your life time and time again I consider you a friend, and i would never walk away from you.” As soon as the small glasses was placed in front of him he took them quickly.

“Do you this is actually a good idea?” He threw his arms on his hips and pushed his coat out of the way. Kaz kept his eyes ahead and not paying any attention to the talking man beside him. Jesper groaned and looked back at nina and wylan for help. “I mean, it could be a real job.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself. “Or it could be a trap.” Wylan commented. “See, I told you.” Jesper shouted and made kaz stop in his tracks.

Raising his cane to stop Jesper from walking and then turned around to face his crew. “I am aware this could be a trap, every possibility you have in your heads I have already ran out in mine. We have back up plans. But I will not have you guys whine like dogs because of this, so maybe pictures your pockets being weighed down with money. Just shut it because I don’t want this to be ruined.” He leaned closer to them and the sound of his glove getting tighter on the cane was heard, and his glare getting harder.

“Do I make myself clear?” They all pushed aside their worries and nodded along to agree. Kaz looked up and Inej stood on the roof above, he signaled her and she went away to find a away into the house. The four continued walking and got to the gate where two men stood behind the gate, big and buff. “What’s your business?” The man with the beard asked.

“We have a meeting with the lady of the house, deals to be made.” Kaz spoke with ease, the two guys looked at each other then unlocked the gate. “No funny business, if you make one wrong move we’ll kill you.” The groups looked at him and to each other, wondering if they should laugh or not. The group heading inside the lovely mansion, so shiny and everything thing in it mush be worth more then what they had on them. The colors light and it looked almost like paradise. 

A woman step out of a door in a maiden outfit and looked at them, the woman was older and didn’t looked to pleased to see them. “Follow me please.” And with that they followed her up the huge stairs with golden railings. On each wall, Or carving or almost anywhere they looked they saw some type of moth. Given that was the house crest it was fitting but this was almost over the top, almost. They came to a stopping point and two big hallways were on both side with so many doors and two big door at the end of each.

“She has requested to have a conversation alone and as must as I advised against it, she is headstrong against it.” The woman grumbled. She opened the door and they walked it, “If I hear anything- Dead.” The guard said before the door closed. A giggle distracted them from the comment and looked around the room for the person. She sat in a chair with a light tan color of a dress and a jewelry matching with it, a cup of tea in her hands.

The room big and full of chairs and tables, marble floor and food all around, the smell of fruity perfume was in the air. Huge windows with light curtains draped down but the biggest one was left open and wind blew the curtains. “Sorry about them, they can be quite protective.” They looked at her, this was strange. She look so pure and innocent, the sweet sound of her voice and the smile on her face made them think she was a gift from that saints themselves.

“We’re here, let’s discuss business.” Kaz spoke trying not to waist any time. “Sit, please I have tea and sweets.” She moved her arms to make them sit down and the first one was nina and she blooped down on the chair and took a small cookie. “Hmm, this is delicious.” She praised and took the whole thing into her mouth, “where did you get theses?”

Y/n smiled and became glad she had them made and it filled her with pride, “I have the baker make them, you’re welcome to as many as you want.” Nina looked at the girl and felt her heart softened before grabbing some more from the tray. Kaz watched her with a glare and the group lost all there suspicion and joined the two girls around the table.

“I hope your wraith is okay, I left the widow open so she would have a place to come in- But this is a large place.” Kaz became tense because it sounds like a threat of some sort. But the girl caught onto his body and his face, she knew what he was thinking. “She is in no harm here. I’ve already alerted my staff to not harm her and if they see her they will point her this way.”

Kaz looks at her with no trust but this mind said otherwise, “Get on with it.” The girl smiled at his demand. “We both have something for the other. I on one hand have wealth and a high title, you have a title yourself for being…uh,” she glanced at each other them trying not to sound rude and find a word that doesn’t insult them.

“Devilishly attractive?” Jesper raised a brow with a tone, the girls cheeks began to heat up a bit. But she brushed it off with a laugh, “Talented at what you do.” Their hearts couldn’t understand why they craved to hear those words again, or any praise she had. They all turned their heads at someone coming through the window, “You must be the wraith.”

Inej stood up at took everything in then to the girl in the center who looked like actually royalty. She was beautiful and her voice was sweet, Inej couldn’t handle the gaze from her eyes. “What is it you need done. You have yet to tell us.” Kaz glared at the girl making her look apologetic, the groups looked at him for making her look a bit sad.

“Well I need protection and don’t get me wrong my guards are lovely but I need more. If people heard I have kaz brekker and his crows watching over me then it would lessen the threat. But the same could be said for you,” the girl sat up and went over to a small table and picked up a chest underneath it. She had a problem picking it up but she got ahold of it and brought it over to kaz and placed it down at his feet.

Kaz took a step back like the box was a threat, “If people heard you have a alliance with the L/n’s then your loud would be lessened. People are scared of one of the fives, think about it. You could go to each shop and just say who you are and get things. But, here’s what I think you want to see.” She bend down and opened the chest. Kaz’s eyes trailed down and his eyes glazed over at the sight, it filled to the brim with kroge. His lips pulled up into a very light smirk.

The rest got up from their sets and came over to see, “I could get so many hats.” They heard Jesper say. “This is only a pre-pay.” The girl backed up and played with her hands. She looked anxious and kaz could see that and it made him question why. “What do you need protection from? If you’re house is so feared?” Her face dropped.

“Just something to scared people even more, and then there’s something else want.” Kaz eyed her up and down as did the rest listen to her every word. “I want a taste of your life, I know it sounds strange and maybe it is but I care little of it. I have been kept this house raised to be perfect, I didn’t get to choose. But with you guys it freedom and you get to make your own choices, everything you have is worked for- I was given and taught.” She shrugged her shoulders and looked down like she was ashamed of her words.

“You want to this as what? A vacation?” His word’s harsher then before. Y/n looked down and sighed, “I want something new.” Kaz looked down at the money in front of him then up at his crew, each of them with pleading eyes and he couldn’t deny his body craved to have her in his sights.

“Then little moth, you have yourself a deal.”



#kaz brekker x reader #yandere kaz brekker #yandere kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #inej ghafa x reader #yandere Inej ghafa #Inej ghafa #yandere Inej ghafa x reader #nina zenik x reader #nina zenik #yandere Nina zenik x reader #jesper fahey #Jasper Fahey x reader #yandere Jasper Fahey x reader #yandere Jasper Fahey #Matthias Helvar #yandere Matthias Helvar x reader #yandere Matthias Helvar #Matthias Helvar x reader #Nina zenik x reader x Matthias Helvar #kaz brekker x reader x inej ghafa #yandere shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #yandere six of crows #yandere six of crows x reader #Wylan Van Eck #Wylan Van Eck x reader #yandere Wylan Van Eck #yandere Wylan Van Eck x reader

[frostbitebakery]

I GOT THIS (don’t look at me like that I really got this jeez)

Day 2:

“I,” the - Cody’s focus drifts to the ABC magnets on his fridge as he gazes upon his life choices - zombie— the zombie’s jaw hangs open after the single syllable and a surprisingly healed hand pushes it up again. “I appreciate your help.”

The zombie’s voice is a raspy, halting mess with long pauses in between words. Cody has enough experience with smoke inhalation to recognize the lasting signs. He wonders if the zombie had died in a fire. He had been clearly, so very very, human anatomy sucks, very dead before the magical light show Cody and Wolffe had stumbled into.

Cody nods in acceptance and gestures to the bowl that’s steadily worked through with a slightly shaking spoon. “How are the Fruit Loops?”

The zombie scoops up another bite and his answer takes about three minutes in total but eventually Cody gathers that the Fruit Loops are alright if even sweeter than jogan fruit.

Which is just another item in the list of things that mark the zombie from not around anywhere on Earth as Cody knows it.

“The white milk is a surprise as well.”

“Why?”

“It’s not blue, first of all.”

He could, feasibly - somewhat -, still be English or UK-based. Going from use of language and the accent, maybe the zombie is just a dedicated LARPer.

Something hits the floor under the table.

The zombie blushes.

“Did your leg fall off again?” Cody asks. Last night had been… interesting.

The zombie blushes harder. “My sincerest apologies,” he says and rummages under the table. “My manners must also still rest in my grave.” Maybe he is English. “My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

Or not. Maybe.

“Cody,” Cody says. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure of making your acquaintance is all mine.” Obi-Wan offers a small smile while holding his jaw in place. It’s very sweet and very handsome, even though the English theory isn’t completely crossed out yet.

Cody smiles back. “Do you rather want beans on toast?”

Obi-Wan looks intrigued. And sweet and handsome in Cody’s clothes while what was salvageable of Obi-Wan’s… tunics are in the wash.

Time to ponder his life choices again.

#I got this modern!au #zombie au #codywan #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #body horror #my fic

[tachimichishrine]

I swear no one does Higuchi justice like c’mon I’m BEGGING to be her cute wife that cooks for her whenever she comes from the Mafia. The chokehold she has on me is just *mwah* she’d be so sweet

also love your tachihara fanfiction it’s my dinner everyday <3

<never been crazy abt higuchi but writing for her just,,, it did smth ok- GAH HOW IS THERE NOT A SINGLE FIC OUT THERE FOR HER?? also you're so sweet ill be sure to feed u properly huheeheheh... thank you for your service to the tachi community btw, all the best w your writing n future fics ^w^ >

"housewife"

⫭◦⨝◦⫬

higuchi ichiyo x wife! reader

warnings: i attempt fluff again ; this is so short idk why, apologies my liege ; this is fiction bc there's no way i could cook smth and not poison my wife/ burn the house down in the process ,,, ; tw bath!! (/j it's all just fluff) ; l e s b i a n s ; love language is phys touch deal with it ; itty bitty cursing ; lowercase intended ; NOT proofread

you knew not to panic in such situations. waking up to disheveled sheets that had turned frigid, indicating that ichiyo had been gone too long. you allowed yourself to sleep in, given that you had the day off and decided you'd just lounge around, take a break and plan something nice for your lover in the meantime.

a stress-free period, but all you felt was anxiety when you dialed her number and got sent straight to voicemail repeatedly. this time, you decided you might as well actually leave a message when the line rang for too long.

"'chiyo, honey, call me back when you get this. just wanna make sure everything's okay, alright? I miss you already, love y-"

"who the hell is this?"

you'd been anticipating the automated voice so much that it barely registered that you didn't actually hear it this time, and a quick glance at the screen confirmed that you really were on call with someone on the other end of the line. the voice was raspy, definitely not hers, so you echoed back the question.

"um, who are you?" you challenged with a hand on your hip that they couldn't see.

except, instead of a response, you heard some distant voices on the other line, one rather hyper as it babbled something you interpreted as 'akutagawa-senpai!'. a few noises ensued along a brief chaos you couldn't see, and suddenly the phone was put back to someone's ear as they panted. you could recognize that heavy breathing anywhere.

"hey, hey, 'chiyo, what's going on?" you spoke softly, hoping she was alright and not trying to scare her.

she stuttered nervously. "sorry, I'm so sorry, I must've dropped my phone somewhere and akutagawa-senpai picked it up and-"

"woah, was that the akutagawa you're always talking about?" you couldn't believe it; after being with her for so long, you'd only ever heard stories about the people with whom she worked. you agreed that the kind of place where she operated was dangerous and it was better not to get yourself involved, so she kept you separated from everything she did. you appreciated the thought, but sometimes you felt a little frustrated that you couldn't meet the people in her life— you didn't even think they were aware ichiyo was married.

a tired sigh confirmed your theory. "look, [_____], I'll call you back when-"

"higuchi, who is that?"

akutagawa seemed to be speaking again, and quite frankly you didn't like his tone. if you were on speaker, you'd set him straight but for now you just listened to ichiyo ramble a response while not actually answering the question. he sounded tired of the bullshit and eventually the line was cut off harshly. something told you that you won't be able to call this number anymore.

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music played on the speaker as you hummed, tray of baked goods getting pulled out of the oven by your gloved mitten. the smell filled out the rather small place you shared with both your wife and sister-in-law, but the latter was out for the week on some kind of trip and left you all alone. you'd gotten used to ichiyo's erratic lifestyle, sometimes disappearing during the day and barely making it home at night. she sounded exhausted when she did arrive, so you didn't mind taking care of the little things.

proud of yourself, you put the assorted goods in various plates and left them on the table, waiting for her to come home. you couldn't call her, obviously, since it appears her boss had pulverized the device out of rage. you'd be worried if not for the fact that, based on her stories, it seemed this was a regular occurrence and she didn't mind it. you'd feel jealous of the man if it weren't for the fact that she fawned over you much harder in all the days you'd known her. she knows what she wants and does everything to get it, you'll give her that. by nature, ichiyo was incredibly caring and it was difficult to hold that against her

something was in your hands as you lounged on the couch, passing the time: a book, your phone, anything to keep your mind occupied. the sun had set and you were getting impatient, as nighttime meant she was going to be out until the early hours and might even come home with a particular scent on her clothing that resembled blood and death. how a person so sweet, so feeling could get into this kind of business was beyond you, much less how she could last thing long. she once told you that the only reason she could keep her mind this long was coming home to your soft kisses and pampering.

a clicking of the front lock and the creaking that ensued signaled that you were about to do that once more, and you strolled over to the entrance with an excited smile.

"welcome home, 'chiyo, how wa-" you caught yourself off when you saw a splatter of crimson along her cheek. your lips tugged downwards into a frown as a reflex, and you sighed gently once you saw her expression. she seemed so conflicted, not about whatever crime she'd done but about making you worry so quickly. "hey, hey, it's okay, c'mere."

with that, you pulled her into your embrace and set a kiss on her hair. it still smelled like that shampoo you'd bought her, a subtle vanilla and chamomile that reminded you of her. her entire body slumped into your strong arms, and she let you drag her across the house, shedding her shoes, meticulously pulling the elastic out of her hair to let her messy bun fall into a bob, then helping her out of her unbuttoned jacket. you pulled her body into yours as you laid down on the couch again, but this time with her head shoved into your chest, which was one of her favourite things to do.

"wanna talk about it?" you asked, dumbly, one of your regular antics. of course she wanted to talk about it; she did an awful job keeping things to herself anyways.

so, you listened carefully while she recounted stories with fake names to keep you protected and vague details in certain places, specific in others. she didn't seem hungry, so you just skipped the food for now and dragged her to your bedroom. you were about to throw her pajamas and get her to change so you could just lay down in bed for the evening, but the burgundy was darkening on patches on her arm and you couldn't help but stare at it.

"—so akutawaga-senpai showed up and I felt a little stupid but he-" you interrupted her by grabbing her shoulders and giving her a little shake.

"honey, can we clean off... that..." you danced around the topic, but she knew exactly what you meant when your eyes kept darting to certain areas of her skin. she nodded and you gave her a quick kiss on her forehead. "I'll run the bath and we can scrub it off. keep going, I'm listening."

she continued speaking as you did exactly that and eventually both of you were stripped and laying down in the tub. she was sitting in between your legs, with her back resting on your chest and head leaning back to rest on your shoulder. you traced her body, rubbing into certain patches until her skin was back to its beautiful glow. the warmth of both her and the water was too comforting, and you stayed longer than needed, your fingertips turning raisin-like in protest. despite this, you leaned down to kiss her up and down her neck while you gently massaged her flesh from her thighs to her hips, her stomach to her breasts. if she wasn't so tired that she eventually ran out of steam and stopped talking just to revel in your embrace, you might've handled her a little differently. yet, at this moment the only desire you had was to pamper her.

"ichiyo..." you breathed out slowly, lips grazing her ear while you kissed her again and spread out your fingers over her stomach. "mmmmn... 'missed you... i love you s'much..."

god, you would break her if you kept this up. so long together that you finally managed to put a ring on it yet she still fangirled over you like you were her high school crush. even as you pulled yourselves out of the sanctuary of steam and warmth in order to actually eat, she blushed every time you left a quick peck on her cheek or rubbed noses while chuckling softly.

she fell asleep in your arms, with her leg on top of you pulling you close like her very own plushie. it was hard not to smile at her once she began snoring and murmuring something about akutagawa during her slumber.

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hand in hand, you snuggled up in big jackets in the middle of the night to fend off the frigid breeze. holding onto your fingers wasn't enough, and ichiyo was fully clinging onto your bicep as you walked with her in the empty streets of yokohoma.

"this s-sounded so m-much more fun when w-we were inside... warm... by the f-fireplace.." her teeth chattered and she pulled herself closer into you.

"you were the one who suggested getting something from the café," you retorted with a chuckle, opposite hand brought up to tuck her hair behind her ear that was starting to turn pink from the cold. you rubbed your thumb along her cheek which was going through something similar, then sighed with a cloud of hot breath. "alright, honey we'll head in. i think there's another one on this street, we can just stay there and warm up before we go back, mkay?"

she would feel a bit ashamed about being so demanding if you hadn't pulled her in tighter and looked at her so lovingly. she had such an impossible time never believing she was capable enough at the mafia, and that discomfort disappeared as soon as you whispered sweet nothings into her ear and made her feel like everything was alright.

you turned your bodies together, door jingling as you stepped inside and the air blowing down from the heater hitting you. you realized that she was right, it was too damn cold outside, as soon as you felt the contrast of the inside. you turned towards your lover with a quick look to see if her body was as relieved as yours, but she was staring at something intensely on the horizon, like she'd seen a ghost.

you followed her gaze, and it fell on a man with tuffs of white in his hair standing next to a woman, slightly shorter but with noticeably long stands of black veiling the sides of her face.

"do you know them?" you whispered, and she jumped a little. part of her wanted to drag you outside, but she couldn't lie to you or keep things no matter how much her common sense told her to.

"that's... they're..." she was struggling to say something, anything, but you noticed she was letting herself get flustered. in these kinds of situations, you liked to interrupt her with a kiss to bring her back to earth from her constantly overreacting mind.

she pulled away before your lips could touch.

she'd never done that before.

you knew better, that this was probably a question of her not wanting the pda right now or maybe it had something to do with the duo standing over there waiting for their drinks, but it hurt nonetheless when you saw her squint her eyes shut and shake her head.

"that's akutagawa," she whispered as an explanation, and you felt simultaneously irritated and relieved, the former due to the fact that it confirmed that she hadn't told her boss that she was in a relationship, much less married. you understood why but it didn't sting any less.

"who's the girl?" you followed up, trying not to think about it too deeply. "is that.. uh... gin?"

she nodded meekly, and it was impossible to stay mad for long when she was so cute. you slid your hand around her waist, turning her around so that her back was to the pair and they wouldn't recognize her while she spoke to you. your voice dropped so low she could barely hear it. "should we get out of here so they don't see us? I'm not that cold, I can wait outside if it makes you more comfortable, honey."

how could she ask you to do something like that when your words were so caring, so honest? she took a deep breath and shook her head once more. in one impossibly fast motion you found yourself on the other end of the shop, standing in front of the man.

"akutagawa-senpai!" ichiyo exclaimed just a bit too loudly for this time of the day and the serenity of the empty café. she bowed her head down, speaking incredibly quickly. "I don't mean to interrupt your evening but it's come to my attention that you don't know that I'm married and this is my wife her name is [_____] and she's wonderful and-"

"'chiyo, he won't be able to understand what you're saying," you laughed softly, cutting her off as you placed your hand on her back reassuringly before addressing her boss with a respectful nod. "it's nice to finally meet you, akutagawa-san. I've heard a lot about you."

he barely bothered to acknowledge you, but the slight twitch in the spot that should've housed his eyebrows signaled that he was shocked. your smile grew wider when you looked to his sister who was sporting the same look. you pulled ichiyo against you from her hip as if to prove that she was indeed yours, and spoke slowly to explain snippets of the current situation. gin listened carefully without a word while the man tried his very best to seem completely uninterested.

as much as you wanted to learn everything there was to know about ichiyo's other side, eventually his drink was ready and he barely excused himself as he walked out. you watched him do so, and gin nodded to you and said something about how nice it was to make your acquaintance in a meek voice before quickly following him out. you waved, and noticed akutagawa watching you do so warmly before burying his face in his coat and scampering off.

"well," you giggled, turning back towards ichiyo, "that wasn't so bad. she's cute and he's an ass, but I trust your judgement in people."

you could practically see stars in her eyes; she rambled to you the entire walk home - during which she didn't complain about the cold a single time and was nearly bouncing off the sidewalk - about how much he clearly loved you based on his expression (apparently the fact that he didn't try to kill you on the spot was a sure sign of his support). she was so excited she even suggested bringing you with her to the port mafia tomorrow, but you stopped her and told her to slow down for just one second. you loved that she was so passionate about her emotions, but you wanted to talk and think this through before you did anything.

for tonight, though, you let her radiate with happiness as she jumped on top of you, making the mattress creak while she climbed up to sit on your lap and curl her fingers around the fabric of your shirt. your hands on her hips, she sat down with her knees bent on either side of you like a frog and leaned so you were chest-to-chest. she tickled your skin to draw out soft giggles while she peppered you with kisses, littering you with her best efforts to repay just a fraction of what you did for her. you rubbed her thighs in long, loving motions and brought her up so she was sitting on your hips instead. you wanted her closer, and she was happy to oblige as she kissed your lips.

"[_____]," she said, smiling into you, "I'm so lucky..."

you cut her off with a press upwards and a firm grip. "shhh, don't say anything. I love you, you love me and that's all we need."

she murmured your name that night in her sleep instead of akutagawa's.

#so funny writing this after prev ask but wtv i can let myself be domesticated for her #higuchi bsd #higuchi ichiyo #bsd higuchi #bsd x reader #bsd x reader fluff #higuchi x reader #higuchi ichiyo x reader #ichiyo higuchi #bsd #bungou stray dogs #im unwell for them

[burning-academia-if]

the mandatory second part of the dressed up ask where the mc comes back from the date upset and/or crying because they either got stood up or the date went terribly and the ros reaction to that?

Part 1

Presenting part 2:

Rook:

He finds you crying. Some of your friends had already found you before, but you’d warded them off immediately and any attempt at comfort had failed. He knows why your friends would then go to him, as though he’d have an easier time at comforting you, but it doesn’t make it true.

Now, he lingers awkwardly at your door as you stare at him with red rimmed eyes. Your tears are silent, and they drip down in the languid way tears do after someone has been crying a while.

“…May I come in?” You let him and when he’s inside it takes a moment for him to place himself. As though he wasn’t there, you wander back to your room and collapse on your bed. “I, uh, heard it was bad but…”

You laugh, voice raw and raspy, “Yeah.”

“How bad?”

Your eyes are on the ceiling and not him. “It reminded me to never get my hope ups.”

“MC…”

“You know I’ve never been close to anyone in my life. I try and try and yet…” You take a shuddering breath. “And whenever I think someone has a genuine interest in me, it turns out they just want to use me.”

Everything blurs, softened by the mess inside his head, “…There really isn’t someone?”

“No Rook. No one ever cared for me.”

And oh how his heart breaks for the hundredth time, he isn’t sure how he still has one left as he watches you stubbornly wipe the tears away. Like the words you spoke should only be objectively fact and not a blade stuck inside you since you were born. He doesn’t know what to say, or if he has a right to say anything. Your words morph in his head.

‘No one ever cared for me.’

‘You never cared for me.’

“I do.” It lays in the space between you, and he doesn’t dwell on how it sounds like a lie to you when it has never been a lie to him. “And besides, I’ve known you my whole life. Someone has to realize how fucking cool you are instead of just me, right?”

Your lips twitch. It isn’t a smile, it isn’t anywhere close but it’s enough.

“Come on, you need a distraction.” He motions towards your discarded laptop. “Come on, let’s watch a shitty movie to make fun or something.”

He stays with you, feeling it isn’t enough. When you fall asleep mid movie he carefully turns it off, only to see a notification. He doesn’t recognize the name but the message informs him this is your supposed date from earlier. Something dark cuts into him, seeing them so readily in front of him.

Instead, he shuts the computer and memorizes the name for later. Just in case.

Beck:

There’s a knock on his door, and the last thing he’s expecting is to see you. You stand there, sheepish, dressed back in your usual clothes, and your bag is on your shoulder, “Last minute, but what to study together?”

He’d seen you earlier, on your way to a date. He isn’t sure how long ago that was but based on the time he doubts you could have already been back so soon.

“Come right in.” He steps aside, keeping a careful eye on you. “Lucky for us, Rook’s out so we won’t have a lot of distractions.”

“Well, I wouldn’t mind distractions,” it’s suppose to come off as casual, off handed. But he hears the hitch in your face and pieces start coming together.

He motions towards the couch, “Have a seat. Do you want anything? Rook ate us out of food, but I think I can manage to find something for us to snack on.”

“Oh, no! It’s fine.” You wave him off, but he comes back with the last surviving drinks and snacks anyway. As he spreads them out in front of you both, it’s clear you’re not in the mindset to study, let alone focus on anything.

He bumps your shoulder with his, “You’re not actually here to study, are you?”

The curtains come close on the show you’ve been putting up and your eyes moistened, “…Sorry. It’s been a rough night. I thought studying might help.”

He nods, “Maybe it could, if you were in the right mind to focus.”

“You’re not going to ask?”

“I get the feeling you don’t want to talk about it.”

You press your lips together, looking conflicted. He waits, letting you sort out whatever you need. After a moment, you finally say, “My date didn’t show, so I guess I just wanted to hang out with someone.”

“You don’t have to hide your loneliness.” A stray tear finally falls and he brushes it away without thinking.

His words, his touch, all make your breath stutter, “You’re always too nice.”

“So I’ve heard.” It’s a curse in this moment. To you, Beck is as he always is to everyone. He wonders if it’d make you feel better to know he’s here for you not because of this, but because it’s you.

His hand pulls away and you appear steadier, “So, still up for studying together?”

“Always.” And as time slips by together, it’s like you’ve forgotten what brought you here in the first place.

Rhea:

She’s always been good in an emergency. When she gets the text your back safe, there’s something in the wording that says otherwise. It’s late, she has an early morning, but she grabs a sweater and pulls it over her pjs before she heads out.

When she finds you, you haven’t even made it through your door. Your forehead rests against the wood, hand limp on the handle. There is a tremor to you, and pins and needles run down her arms.

“MC?” She calls softly, and you tense for a moment before pulling away.

You’re not crying, exactly, but it’s clear you’re upset. Your lips part but it takes a second before you can form the sound, “Rhea? Why are you here?”

“Never mind that, let’s get you inside.” There are questions in her head, but they can wait. She knows you had a date today, and she knows it must have went badly. For now, she guides you inside and makes you sit on the couch.

Listless, you sit as she goes into the small kitchen area and grabs a cup and some water. Every motion is quick and sure, only letting her thoughts focus on the tasks at hand.

As she places it in front of you, you blink, “Oh, thank you.”

“Do you want to talk about?” You pick up the water but only stare into the clear liquid. She takes a seat in the spot next to you, folding her hands in her lap. “If you just want to sleep I’ll leave you be.”

You shake your head, “There’s nothing to talk about. They were just…”

“A plebeian bastard not worth your time?” She says it with an even voice and straight face.

A sharp laugh spills from you, but you cut yourself off as it turns into water. With a hard swallow, you nod, “Yeah.”

“They’re a fool. An absolute angel appears in front of them and they decide to show they’re the devil.” She raises a hand before you can protest. “Anyone would be lucky to be with you.”

“I…yeah. Thanks.” Finally, you take a sip of water and slowly tension eases out of your body. The details of exhaustion slowly start to come out, the sense of safety she brought allowing them to do so.

“You should get some sleep. I’ll check up on you tomorrow, ok?” Again, you nod and she guides you to your room. As soon as you see your bed, you collapse, not bothering to get changed or wash your face.

She leaves you after bidding goodnight and as soon as she leaves your dorm, she’s the one leaning against the door. Her eyelids flutter shut, and she takes a breath. You hadn’t even seemed surprised, that it went poorly. For you, who’d already been so much, it was probably another cut on top of thousands. The contrast from the hesitant excitement you had when you asked her to help choose an outfit to this grim acceptance made her blood boil in a way she didn’t know was possible.

It takes a moment for her to calm down, but when she does it comes with a resolution. You’d find happiness, she would make sure of it.

Zoe:

It’s late by the time they leave the tea shop. They’re brother had headed out earlier, leaving them to close up shop. As they locked the doors and pocketed the keys, they glance over at the small restaurant. It’s still lively at nine at night, and there’s a lull of music and a spilling of warm lights.

Sitting on the curb, backlight in orange hues and crumbling, is your form. It takes a moment for them to realize it’s you. You’d popped in an hour ago, and there’s no way you’re still here just sitting there unless—

They cross the distance before they realize it, “MC?”

You slowly look up at them, a tiny small on your face, “Hey Zoe. Is your shift already over?”

“Yeah, it’s late. What are you still doing here?”

They already have a feeling, but it doesn’t stop the stab in their chest as you say, “I’ve been waiting for my date. Well, I guess not waiting anymore.”

“They ghosted.” A series of choice words and curses all vie to be said and they wish this mysterious date magically appeared in front of them so they could let them have it. Instead, Zoe offers a hand. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Where?” You take their hand and it’s so cold. They can’t understand why you stayed here so long, like a lost thing hoping for someone to find them again.

Zoe inclines their head, “I just got off work and I’m hungry. We’re going to eat.”

“But…”

“Come on, it’s on me. To make up for your shitty night.” You two of you make up an odd pair, maybe. You, dressed up to the nines and still heavy emotion in your eyes, to them smelling of various herbs and a work outfit disheveled and wrinkled.

As you two grab a table, a flicker of light is back in your eyes again, and the anger inside both unspools and hardens all at the same time. They push it aside. For now, all the matters is hoping your night turns around, even a little.

Lars:

Your ‘SOS’ message probably was not meant for him. Still, he sees it and decides to play the part anyway. The address you attached to said message wasn’t far away, and he has nothing else going on during this Friday night.

When he shows up the restaurant, a faux rich overly gilded sort of place, the host informs him he needs a reservation with a cursory glance at his outfit, skewing on the more casual side of things in contrast to what everyone else is wearing.

He hardly pays the man any mind, and looks out at towards the dining area. Instantly, he sees you at the same time you see him. Your eyes go wide, darting from him to your phone to your date as you realize what you’ve done.

“My friend’s already here.” Lars says, striding towards where you sit. He stops right behind the seat of your date, and your eyes never leave him. Vaguely, he registers your date start to ask what’s wrong before cutting him off. “I’m here to pick you up.”

The date, a man Lars casts so little attention to his features are like water, jerks and spins around in his chair, “Excuse me, how are you?”

“You’re free to excuse yourself.”

“I said who the hell do you think you are—”

Lars doesn’t know the situation, besides you wanting to get out of it. For all he knows it could be because the man is irritating to a straight up bastard. He doesn’t care, as his eyes flick downwards and he feels a thrum of magic come from him.

“Bold.” Lars states, with no emotion.

Sensing his intentions, you scramble up from your chair, “Right, we should go. I’m so sorry—”

You scramble ahead, expecting he to follow. He expects to as well but the man stands and latches a hand on his shoulder. This guy has to fall into the asshole category, Lars decides, and it gives him an excuse for what he does next.

He snaps his hand up and places a grip so tight, a snap sounds at his wrist. The man sputters out a noise, a flash of magic which Lars warns off with a flash of his own. It makes the man still, knowing he isn’t the only magician here. Good.

“Two things. Don’t touch me. Don’t contact them again.” He lets go and leaves without another word or glance back.

He finds you waiting for him outside, arms wrapped around you as though to ward off anxiety.

You frown at him, “Why are you here?”

“You texted.”

“It was an accident, and besides…” He isn’t the type to do this kind of thing.

Aware this appears out of character for you, he shrugs, “Thought I’d make things worse for you as payback for you dragging me around earlier.”

“…Did you?”

He ignores the question and motions you forward, “Come on, let’s head back.”

At the very least, your shock at his arrival and his refusal to answer your pestering questions on the drive back seems to distract you. His own thoughts keep flashing back to your date. A steady thrum of annoyance worms it’s way into him and tries not to frown.

There’s no reason for him to feel it. At least, so he tells himself.

???:

“Are you there?” It’s rare for you to be the one to call out to them. So rare, they’re instantly there, their presence blanketing you like a homemade quilt. It almost immediately makes you feel a little less terrible, as you walk back towards the dorm tonight.

‘Is something the matter?’ They’re asking out of politeness. They can feel all the messy feelings swirling around in your gut.

“No—yes. My date didn’t show.” And it brought up every single childhood feeling of being nothing more then salt in the snow. Maybe it was you, because you have nothing special or unique or good about you. Maybe it was the people you choose, because all you knew was distance and always wanted to run as though you could close it by your will alone.

For once, while you sense they’re having an emotional reaction to this, you can’t feel the specifics, ‘A waste of your time, then.’

“Maybe they thought I—” You cut yourself off, curbing the mountain of negative emotions with the belated remembrance of how the Voice feeds off things like this. For how comfortable you’ve started to feel with them, it’s become harder and harder to remind yourself what they want.

Tonight though, they’re only focused on your well-being. A strange change, and one which only muddies the water more, ‘I’m not sure what they thought, little moon. But may I show you what I think of you?’

Perhaps because you feel awful or because your defenses are low when your heart is raw, you let the Voice guide you away from the dorms. With only half a mind to be wary, you let the Voice take you into the gardens and deeper still into it. At some point the yellowing color of fall gives way to a sudden glow of green and flowering plants. And it is glowing. A faint white hue emitting from the plants as you go. Even though you’ve started to get used to magic now, there’s still an awe that steals your breath.

“How do you know about this place?” There’s no answer, because of course there isn’t. Instead, as you look up and see how vines and branches wind up and encase the moon, you ask another question. “So why did you bring me here?”

‘I promised to show you what I think of you.’ A tickle in your chest is a sure indication there’s something teasing about this.

“You just did this to distract me, didn’t you?” They laugh softly but don’t refute your claim. The bruise of early is still there, but it’s easier to nurse now as you let yourself lay in the grass and look up at the stars. The Voice keeps you company as long as you need.

#em answers #ch: rook #ch: beck #ch: rhea #ch: lars #ch: zoe #ch: ??? #unedited

[kiss-theggoat]

Didn’t Think I’d Leave You All Alone on the Subway, Did You? PT. 2

Ghostface x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: It’s been a month since you were attacked on the subway, and you thought you were safe from the Ghostface killer. But a threatening phone call proves you wrong. (Reader has female anatomy, but no pronouns used)

Warnings: Violence, a little smutty this time (somewhat non-con, reader is a little into it, a little not), Ghostface is obsessed with you

You laid your head down against the armrest of your sofa, sighing and pressing buttons aimlessly on the remote. Nothing on the TV interested you, and you were bored of the mindless scrolling you’d been doing for the past hour on your phone. It was almost 11 P.M. at this point, and all you’d done was eat leftovers and lay down. You groaned as you sat up, your abdominal muscles still sore from your injury.

You made your way into the kitchen, flipping the light switch on in order to search your cabinets for something to snack on. You were in the mood for… something sweet. You hummed a song as you opened your fridge, spotting a leftover piece of chocolate cake from one of your best friends birthday parties. Perfect. You took the plate out, got a fork, and leaned against the counter, eating thoughtlessly while staring out the sliding glass doors into your backyard.

Your entire body jolted as you heard your phone ring on the couch. You set your fork down and shuffled into the living room, where your phone lit up. Unknown Caller. You furrowed your brow, but let it ring. It’s probably a scam, and you were in no mood. You turned your heel to go back to your cake, but noticed that your phone immediately began to ring again. Maybe it was important?

You grabbed your phone and clicked the green button, holding it up to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Nice to see you again.”

You’d recognize his voice from anywhere. Raspy but smooth, and threatening all at the same time. Your hands went clammy, face pale, and you immediately flashed back to the memories. Laying face down on the dirty subway floor, open wound seeping your life into the ground of New York. Watching him walk away, mocking you. Losing consciousness, only regaining it when an EMT placed an oxygen mask over your face.

You heard a breathy chuckle over the line. “Aww, cat got your tongue?”

You tried to sound confident, brave, but your sentence came out shaky and terrified. “What do you want,” you stuttered.

“To finish what I started. But, it’s such a nice night, I figured we’d have some fun first.”

Your whole body spun, mentally checking your locks. The blinds in your kitchen were open, where you were just eating. A shiver went down your spine as you slowly crept towards your sliding glass door. It was locked, thank god, but you knew if he was out there, he had a beautiful view of you inside.

“If you shut those blinds, I will slit your throat before you can even tell me to stop.” He growled, making your hand stop inches away from the fabric. You peered outside, and knew that with the lights on, he could see you better than you could see him.

“Okay… I won’t shut the blinds.” You said softly, cursing yourself again for sounding so scared. You instead took a step to the side, hitting the light-switch to the kitchen. Next to it was the porch light, which you also switched on. Now, you were in the dark and knew he couldn’t see you as well as he could before. You heard him laugh.

“Hm, smart one. Should we test that?”

“Test what?”

“Your smarts. I want to play a little game. I ask you a question, you get it right and I leave you alone. You get it wrong…”

You peered outside, squinting. Wherever he was hiding, it was a damn good spot.

“What if I don’t want to play?”

“Then you forfeit. You forfeit, you die.”

You gulped, crouching down to be hidden behind your kitchen cabinets and talking barely above a whisper, you responded. “Not really a fair game, is it?”

“Nothing ever is. Your first question is easy. What shirt were you wearing the last time we saw each other?”

The hangnail on your thumb began to bleed as you yanked it with your teeth. “It was a…uhm…a”

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you’re stumped on question one? Maybe this won’t be as fun as I thought!” He cackled.

“A…white button up. I was coming home from work.”

“Very good!” He sounded excited, his voice jumping an octave as if he were encouraging a child. “Question number two…. A little harder this time. When was the last time I was inside your home?”

Your blood turned to ice. Your eyes widened as your hand covered your mouth. Tears welled in your eyes and your heart hammered against your ribs. You’d been in the hospital for the last few weeks, so there was no telling how many times he had broken in. You began to slowly crawl out of your kitchen, staying as low to the ground as you could.

“That isn’t fair. I haven’t been here.” You whispered. You finally made it around your wall into the living room, where the lights were on but the blinds were closed.

“Ohh, yeah, you’re right, I’m sorry,” he clicked his tongue, pretending like he actually felt sorry for you. “Good thing I’ve prepared an alternate question. Which room…of your house am I currently in?”

You stopped moving, hands trembling and blood rushing past your eardrums loud enough to distort his voice. The fear that ran through you was inhumane. The only thing that gave you some sort of comfort was knowing that if he was inside, you could run outside. You stood up as quick as your body would let you and sprinted towards your back door. Your socks slipped against the tile but you panted as you shakily flipped the lock, throwing the door open with all your strength. Your phone had long been left behind on the floor, and you sprinted out onto your porch, ready to jump into the sanctuary of your yard when you felt strong arms wrap around your waist and fling your body back towards the door like a rag doll. Your shoulder hit the door frame before you landed on the ground, half in your house and half out. The bottom guard of the back door painfully dug into your ribs but you scrambled to push yourself away from him. His boots thumped against the creaky wood as he walked towards you.

You flipped onto your stomach and went to push yourself upwards before you felt the cold and rough tread of a boot press against the skin between your shoulder blades, pushing you painfully back to the floor. You groaned as you tried to squirm away from his grip.

“No answer…” he sucked his teeth disapprovingly, “means you forfeit.”

You started screaming as loud as you could. Not knowing what else to do, a scream seemed like the best answer, and it was, until his hands wrapped tight around your throat, suffocating your shriek into a pathetic gasp.

He grabbed your shoulder with one hand, other still on your throat, and flipped you on your back. He was on you in an instant. He straddled your thighs, keeping them still while his hands gripped your wrists, holding them right above your head. He leaned down and his cold mask touched the side of your face.

“If you scream, I will tear your vocal cords out with my teeth…” He whispered, gravelly voice sounding so much more threatening in person than on the phone.

You panted as a result of the struggle, closing your eyes tight. You didn’t want to look at him, and you were convinced all he had left to do was finish what he started. Instead of a cold knife, you felt a hand on your chest, near your collar bone. Your eyes slowly opened to the sight of his, more like the ghostly masks, eyes that bore into yours.

One hand held both of your wrists and the other wandered your smooth skin beneath the loose t- shirt you’d chosen to wear for bed. He started at your clavicle and slowly made his way down to your chest, grabbing at you and playing with you as he pleased. You turned your head away from him, conflicted at the way his touch made you feel. On one hand he was terrifying. A strong man seemingly made to kill, hunting you like a predator chasing wounded prey. On the other hand, the way he so easily restrained yet caressed your skin had your heart racing for another reason.

The cold air from your open back door traced your curves as he slowly pushed your shirt up over your breasts, only the moonlight illuminating your radiant skin. Your chest heaved, which he liked to see. He reached down, unsheathing his blade, and brought it back up to your chest, where he traced the soft steel down in between the cups of your bra. You shuddered at the feeling. Knowing that this weapon had stabbed you only a month ago just inches below where it lay now gave you goosebumps. The fresh scar on your belly gleamed in the moonlight, reminding him of his handiwork.

He shifted his weight, legs now sliding down your thighs and calves. At this point, your hands were free, but now that he had his knife out, you had no intention of moving them. He sat his full weight down on your ankles, making you wince. The gloves covering his fingers were rough as they traced up your thigh and began to sneak beneath your pajama shorts, leaving heat in their wake.

“Yesterday…” he whispered, his voice raising pins and needles on your skin.

You looked into his ghostly eyes with a look of horror. You watched helplessly as he slipped his hands under the waistband of your shorts.

“What…”

“The answer.”

It hit you. That’s the last time he was here. He had been here yesterday and you hadn’t noticed. He let out a groan as he leaned down, inhaling the sweat and fear off of you.

“I watched you sleep…” his hand grazed your inner thigh and subconsciously, you spread them. “You always leave your bathroom window unlocked.”

#slasher x reader #slasher x y/n #slashers #horror movies #ghostface #ghostface fanfiction

[moraygrotto]

Fic time!!!!!

In 2023, I was lucky enough to reach 1,500 followers! As a celebration, I held a series of polls determining the main character, pairing, and kinks of a celebratory fanfic :) The winning combination was Ruggiе x Reader, with starving-to-stuffed feeding, and here it is~

I decided to place this fic in a fantasy/steampunk AU, where reader is an attendant at a public temple, and Ruggiе is a gentleman thief. It's also not explicitly romantic, though reader-chan & Ruggiе do both wish to be closer to each other :)

Thanks again to all who participated in the polls, and please enjoy!!!

~🌘~

Working night duty at the temple, your friends were a motley few. Only a select number of the city’s citizenry were allowed within the stately, glass-tiled stone walls at night, but that did not stop attendants such as yourself from making friends atop the entryway’s steps, or over the back garden walls.

The moment you stepped outside to empty the ashes you had collected from the temple’s censers, you knew the figure you spotted was not in the mood for any such socializing.

At first, you mistook him for a pile of black cloth; as you set the bowl of ashes down and ran up to him, you spotted a thick head of straw-colored hair and two hyena’s ears, catching the light of the moon in a way the back fabric that nearly buried them could not. He was slumped, motionless, over the steps, face obscured by a black bandana, arms and legs covered by long sleeves extending from underneath his tunic.

Even like this, you recognized this fallen figure to be Ruggie Bucchi. Crouching down to his level, you could barely breathe. You had not seen him in months.

“Hey,” you said softly, shaking his shoulder. “Hey, Ruggie. It’s me. Can you hear me?”

Ever so slightly, he moved.

“Yeah, you’re safe,” you assured him. “I’m gonna take you inside. Can you stand?”

He strained slightly, then flopped back onto the steps. You would have to bring him inside yourself.

“Tell me if what I’m doing hurts anywhere,” you said, snaking your arms around him and lifting him up against you.

A small sound was coming from him—Ruggie’s raspy voice, you realized.

“—not hurt. You can…” He drew a thin breath in as you scooped his skinny body up into your arms. “Thanks for… I really owe you… think I’d fall over if I tried to stand right now.”

“Oh, Ruggie, what happened?” you said, hurrying him back into the warm, sheltered interior of the temple.

“D’you hear… the factory?”

“No,” you replied. As the night attendant at a temple, you were one of the least informed people in the city.

“...a big fire,” Ruggie mumbled, jostling in your arms as you trotted through the shadowed halls. “A handful a’ kids lost their parents. I—someone—tell you more later; I—” He went silent, breaths growing shallow.

Since you slept downstairs in a one-room dormitory with the other temple workers, you could not take him to any resting place of your own without both disturbing the others and risking Ruggie’s privacy. Instead, you took him to a small chamber at the corner of the building, bordering the garden, used for special ceremonies.

Inside, there was a blanket draped over a stone bench, which you lay him down upon, as well as a lantern atop an herb-strewn wooden table, which you lit.

“Will you be okay here?” you asked. “Any first aid I should do before getting you some water from the kitchen?”

Ruggie had been still as you spoke, but both his ears twitched at this last word. “Kitchen,” he repeated, voice shallow and groggy. “...you could… bring me back some food; I’d be…”

“Of course,” you replied, and bustled out of the room.

Outside of the temple, the people you befriended were an interesting lot—courtesans, witches, and the occasional street urchin all took kindly to the temple’s presence, as did the city’s king—whose police force, however, begrudged the institutional privileges you held.

Ruggie Bucchi, with regard to the friends he kept and hours he prowled, was very similar to you. Having grown up poor and struggled into adulthood, he sympathized with the city folk in poverty, and did whatever he could, by any means necessary, to help out his fellows.

Years ago, when you first confided in a fellow attendant that you had met Ruggie Bucchi, they sighed in manifest jealousy, telling you that they had only ever heard his name in impassioned whispers. Now, the very same hero of the shadows was lying, barely conscious, in a little room in your temple.

Arms full of a jug of water and several dishes of leftover food, you rushed back to him.

He startled awake when you returned, wide eyes zeroing in on you as he spoke your name.

Even among the countless people he knew, he still remembered your name.

“Ugh, you’re the best,” he said, and tried to hoist himself to a seated position, but his arms quivered, and he toppled back onto his side. He groaned.

Assuring him that he need not strain, you awkwardly set the food down upon the ceremonial table—sacrilegious, but this was an emergency; nobody would spite you—and sat beside him carrying only the jug of water.

Ruggie made a small noise, ears flicking as you eased his head onto your lap. “Stay with me,” you said. “Here, I’ll give you some water; try not to choke.”

As neatly as you could manage, you poured a small splash into your palm, before pulling down Ruggie’s bandana to reveal his mouth. He was panting weakly, and in the small shaft of moonlight shining through the chamber’s only window, his tongue looked almost white.

Carefully, then, you let a trickle of water down between his open lips.

With astounding ease, Ruggie lapped it up, not coughing nor sputtering at all. Once the palmful was finished, he leaned up, eyes glittering, tongue out as if he wanted to lick your hand itself, then faltered, squeezing his eyes shut, and relaxing the weight of his head back into your lap.

“Thanks,” he breathed through shimmering lips. “More—please.”

You repeated the process a few more times, and as he drank, his stomach let out a long, sputtering growl.

“How long has it been since you’ve had anything to eat or drink?” you said.

“Not that long,” Ruggie said, and let out a wet cough. “But—hang on…” Still quavering slightly, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, flung one skinny arm around you, and used you as support to sit up. A thin breath hissed out of him as he took the water jug from your hands. “We’ve had to boil water,” he said, “firewood and food’s really hard to come by. I’ve had some, but—” He paused to take a thick, gulping drink, belly softly bickering under the fresh deluge to his stomach.

“Boil water?” you said. “You don’t have fuel for fire? Where is this?”

Ruggie finished his greedy sip, and peered down into the jug, a look of simple pleasure dawning on his face. A rough, gurgling belch trailed out of him before he could respond, and he wiped his mouth again. “‘Scuse me,” he mewled, and you could hear the newfound lubrication in his throat. “Um, below the factory. There’s a big basement down there, and it connects to a couple tunnels below the city.” He gave a troubled sigh, and took another sip.

“What happened was,” he said, beginning to idly rub his tummy while he kept staring down into the water, “a bunch of the factory’s workers died when the building caught fire. Some of them had kids, and the factory owners said they would only help support them if they themselves came to work there.”

You blinked. “Aren’t any of the kids too little to work?”

Ruggie gave a single, sardonic laugh. “Bossman doesn’t care.”

“That’s terrible!” you said.

“Yeah, duh,” Ruggie replied. “A few of the builders who are working to fix the place back up think so too, so they volunteered to help shelter the kids underground. I’ve done stuff like this before, so I’m there, too. It’s just—” He leaned against you, and groaned. “It’s so much fucking work. Of course I’m gonna do it until they all find somewhere stable to stay, but I barely eat or sleep anymore. We, um—” he looked at you, and smiled sheepishly. “We need help. That’s the actual reason why I’m here, to see if you guys can pick out more city folks who are good at keeping secrets, and see if they want to volunteer.” He tapped a dirty fingernail against the glass of the jug. “I wish I really had come here for nothing but a drink of good water and a fresh meal.”

“It’s not actually fresh,” you confessed. “It’s mostly leftovers—”

“Oh,” he interrupted, “believe me, anything your two hands have scraped up is bound to be a zillion times better than what me’n the others have been eating. Speaking of which—” He kneaded one hand into his belly, which let out a desperate-sounding yowl in response.

“Oof,” you said, “you poor thing.”

“I feel like I’ve been hollowed out,” Ruggie grumbled.

“Here,” you said, opening a large clay dish, and lifted a flatbread out of it, straight onto your hand. You took up a spoon, the only utensil you had picked up in your haste, and used it to spread a layer of cheese onto the soft, doughy bread, before opening the third and final dish, a pot of beans and rice, and scooping some out into the middle. “Promise you won’t eat too fast,” you said, folding the whole thing up into a lumpy little wrap. “I don’t know what I’d do if you hurt your stomach from stuffing it too full.”

“Oh, c’mon,” Ruggie whined, “I’m not starving. I’m just… kinda…”

You raised your eyebrows.

“...Starving,” he finished.

“Please eat, then,” you said, trying to hold back a laugh.

Ruggie snatched the creation from you, eyes glittering in utter delight. Secretly, you had always adored watching Ruggie eat. He had shared snacks with you over the temple walls before, even been traded gifts of food from other people of the night atop your hallowed entryway steps, which he was always eager to devour right there. Now, as each time you had seen him eat in the past, his jaws parted wide, sharp teeth flashed, and he took his food down into himself with single-minded fervor.

Within seconds, your little flatbread had vanished, and a lopsided grin had washed over his face.

“Are you alright?” you said, running a hand up and down his bony spine. “You look almost too happy.”

“Yeah,” he replied, “I’m alright. How much’ve you… Wait. Hang on.”

You paused, and he paused, before raising one fist to his chest, and giving himself a hard thump.

A loud, brassy burp clattered out of him, dragging on a long few seconds, until you were a touch afraid your sleeping fellows downstairs might be able to hear. You blushed, embarrassed at how beautiful you found it.

Ruggie let out a coarse breath a moment later, face screwed up in discomfort.

“Fuck, there was a lotta empty air in there,” he whined. “I guess I’m glad that’s out.”

“How does your stomach feel?” you said softly.

Heaving another breath, Ruggie gave his belly a prod with his fingertips. “Kinda terrible,” he said. “Here, why don’t I—” He picked up the jug of water again, and took a long chug.

“That should help,” you said. “Again, don’t go too fast.”

He set the jug down again, and expelled a long, gurgling noise from his gullet, which you were not sure was a sigh, a burp, or some stormy mingling of both. “Y’know?” he said, “Never mind! I am starting to feel a lot better.”

“I’m so glad!” you said, and, emboldened, gave him a one-armed squeeze.

“I will take more food, though,” he added, and kicked his legs against the bottom of the bench.

This, you thought as you folded another flatbread, was closer to the Ruggie you knew. Hopefully, with a little more nourishment inside him, he would have his energy, wits, and roguish passion back in no time.

“You’re seriously the best,” he said, taking the little package of food from you. “Why don’t you just keep ‘em coming?” He gave his belly a smack. “Heck if I haven’t got room for a boatload more.”

Happy to oblige him, you continued piling the flatbreads with cheese, beans, and rice as he ate.

Before you noticed, he had utterly lost himself in his food, now and then swishing his tail and kicking his feet, even letting out little moans and whimpers of delight. If he did end up hurting himself with the amount he ate, you would be crushed with guilt. However, right now, watching him gorge himself in consummate bliss, you could not bring yourself to hold back.

Ruggie reached out to snatch the very last flatbread from you, and you noticed two grains of rice and a smear of gooey sauce stuck to his upper lip.

“Wait a moment,” you said, and lifted a napkin to Ruggie’s face, before wiping his lips off thoroughly.

His ears flattened, and he sputtered through your onslaught, “Hey—c’mon—”

Ruggie, the storied hero of your city, looked adorable as you cleaned him off. “Your face was dirty!” you chimed.

“Gimme that,” he said after you finished, and took the napkin from you. Carefully, he picked out both grains of rice, and swallowed them.

You frowned. “You… really are hungry, huh? You’ve almost cleaned out all this food, though; would you…”

Apprehensively, Ruggie set the dirty napkin down on the ceremonial table, and looked down at his gut. Beneath his loose black tunic, it was hard to see how full he looked from the outside.

You had never seen Ruggie get really stuffed before. Since he was so skinny and fit, and his appetite was so massive, you could only imagine how much food he could pack into himself on his best days. 

Quickly, you quashed the train of thought. You were taking care of him right now, not indulging your own interest. “I think,” Ruggie said slowly, “the fullness hasn’t really caught up with me yet. My head and body are still in eating mode, if that makes any sense.”

You watched him dreamily. Even the most candid attendants in your temple did not usually talk about their bodily processes so openly.

Ruggie poked his belly, then gently tapped it with his fingertips. “I think,” he said, “in a minute or two, I’ll—UUURRRAAPPH!” The belch crashed out of him, and he nearly doubled over his own stomach, and when he straightened up, he was rubbing his belly firmly and fondly, his bandana and a few locks of his bangs knocked askew. “There it is,” he said, and something in his voice sounded more resonant, open-throated. “Felt that one. Good to know everything’s moving around in there like it should be, right?” He snickered, and his belly gave an accompanying glorp.

“You sure everything’s good?” you asked, unable to hold back a smile of your own.

“Oh, yeah,” Ruggie said. “I feel alive again. Gettin’ a teeny bit full, too! Still got all kinds of room, though, so, uh, may I?” He reached out for the bread pocket in your hands.

“Go right ahead, if you can handle it,” you said, passing it to him.

He immediately bit in. “Mmm, yes!” he said with his mouth full. “This tummy’s begging for more.” Seconds later, he had devoured the whole thing, and was wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You know,” you said, “though this is all the prepared leftovers we had on hand, we should still have some other raw stuff in the pantries. I could see if we have some fruit.”

“Would that be okay?” he said, raising his eyebrows. “I mean, you guys gotta eat, too—”

“Of course!” you said. “The others will know from the missing leftovers that I had somebody to feed tonight, and they’ll understand that it took a little more than what was available to get the job done. We are a temple, after all. It’s our job to be here for the people.”

“O-Okay!”

“While I’m getting that, here—” You handed him the spoon. “There’s plenty more rice and beans left in the pot. Some cheese, too; feel free to finish it.”

Ruggie grinned, and took the spoon from you. “Thanks,” he said, “mind getting me some more water, too?”

You left him reaching for the remaining leftovers, greed sparkling in his eyes. His appetite was truly astounding. You could not help but admire it, quickly convincing yourself that what enthralled you was seeing him recover and nourish himself, nothing more. It was thoroughly normal to enjoy watching one’s friends eat, you reasoned, as you arrived at the kitchen and began sorting through the pantry.

In a bowl, you picked a bunch of grapes from a large basket, then paused. You had to save some for the temple. Thinking back to him, however, you knew Ruggie would likely consume everything you brought. Your dashing little rogue was a bottomless pit.

Hurriedly, you grabbed some more grapes, leaving about half of the basket left full. Then, you filled a canteen to the brim from a tapped jug of coconut water. Hopefully this would be enough for Ruggie.

Hopefully, he had already begun to fill up.

When you slipped back into the ceremonial chamber, your hopes were duly, outstandingly fulfilled.

Ruggie had stretched over the length of the bench, one hand tucked beneath his head, the other on his belly, rubbing lightly, almost gingerly in wide circles. His belly itself, you could see now, poked upwards beneath his clothes, distended paunch growing clearer with each smoothing caress of his hand.

His eyes were closed, and he only cracked one open when he heard your footsteps and the sound of your dishes upon the table.

As if in greeting, his stomach let out a deep burble.

“Heya!” he chirped, attempting to leap upright, but flopping back down the moment his chest crunched against the bloat of his gut. “Hc-URrp—Sorry,” he said, before letting out one of his characteristically sibilant snickers. “I think I ate a little too fast just now. Turns out you were-urRP-playing a pretty important role, there, packing the food up for me and controlling how fast I packed it away.” He gave his belly a pat, and it responded with a churning growl, causing him to frown and shift atop the bench’s blanket. “I’ll—” He paused to let a deep burp rumble out from between two fluttering lips. “Mm—I’ll be fine, though. I used to gorge myself way crazier than this, back before I stuck myself underground with all those kids. I’m fine.”

You looked down at the foods you had just now brought him. “I got coconut water instead of regular,” you said slowly. “Would that be too much for—”

“Oh, no way,” he said, eyes going round. “That’s better; did you get—” He propped himself up on an elbow, and glanced at the food. “Grapes? These look awesome!”

You smiled. “You were just complaining you had eaten too much!”

He rubbed his mouth off with his hand, and struggled to a seated position. “Actually,” he said, “I said I ate too fast.” He grinned at you, ears perking up. “If you wanna feed me until I really can’t eat a bite more, you’re gonna need way more than this. I might end up eating you out of house and—uh, temple and home that way, though, and I don’t wanna do that. I’m grateful for all this stuff, I promise.”

You resumed your seat on the bench, feeling yourself relax alongside him. Out of all the denizens of the night you kept company with for this job, Ruggie was quite possibly your favorite.

“Alright,” you said, “we can save a feast like that for another day.”

“Can’t wait,” Ruggie said, plucking a grape from the bunch, and popping it into his mouth.

You watched him briefly chew, then gulp it down his throat before his eyes popped open wide.

“You okay—?”

“Yeah,” he replied, “I just—probably shouldn’t’ve—mmgh!” He grabbed you with one hand, and clutched his tummy with the other as he canted forward. A wet, gurgling burp lurched out of him, once again so brassy and loud that you feared for the slumber of those downstairs.

He sighed, hard and blissful, before blinking back at you. He let go of your arm, patting it sheepishly as he chuckled. “Sorry,” he said.

“Don’t be,” you replied. “Just… maybe don’t eat so fast—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ruggie said. “I just gotta wait a minute before eating anything more, I think. I’m fine, I swear, but—”

“Well,” you said, “if you’re still having trouble, is there anything I can do to help?”

“I mean, yeah,” Ruggie said. He squirmed a little in his seat, pressing with his fingertips lower into his gut. “But I’m not gonna make you take care of me more than you already have.”

“Oh, c’mon,” you said, swatting his arm playfully. “I’m a temple attendant. I’ve gotta follow all the core tenets of this institution, and the main one is, y’know, to help people.”

Ruggie shrugged, smirking. “I’ll take advantage of that, then, if you’re so principled.”

“There you go,” you laughed.

“Alright,” Ruggie said. “Use your fist to hit right in the middle of my back, not too hard, but—”

Gently, you thumped him near the bottom of his ribcage. “There?”

“Yeah,” he purred, “a little lower, though—nope, a little higher, actually—ooh, that feels good—”

A loud snarl tore from Ruggie’s guts. “That’s good,” he repeated, before you had the chance to ask. With both hands, he pressed into his tummy, coaxing more whimpers and gurgles out of it.

“Things starting to move around in there?” you said.

“Yeah-urph—yeah,” Ruggie said. A moment later, his spine curled. “Ack—hang on—but don’t stop.”

You brought a second hand to his back, alternating soft pounds with both fists.

Ruggie grimached. “Hang on, hang on, just one more little—” He clenched his fingers. “Just a—BRAAAP!” Posture softening, he smiled. “There we go. Thanks.”

“Any time,” you said, flattening your hand to softly stroke him.

“I’m feeling a lot better,” Ruggie said, a happy looseness to his voice. “Really good, actually.”

You smiled back. “Ready to fit some more into that noisy tummy?”

As if hearing its name, his belly gave a sweet little babble.

“You bet,” said Ruggie, and reached for the canteen of coconut water, taking a swig so big it looked desperate.

Lifting it from his lips, he let out a loud, wet sigh. “You really are the best, you know,” he said. “You gotta be careful, or I’ll start coming here to eat more ‘n more often, until I never leave.”

This was a joke, but it only made you smile wistfully. Of course you would be thrilled for his company if he lived here. Ruggie, on the other hand, had too much to do, too many people he cared about, a thousand errands to run for reasons bigger than you, the most fundamental of which was his own survival. Your position as a common attendant at the city’s main temple also involved looking after the public, but yours was a more passive beholdenness—you were not sure if Ruggie wanted to settle down.

“Hey,” Ruggie said with his mouth full, “since you’re offering, can I ask for something kinda strange? You can say no, I mean.” He swallowed his mouthful of grapes, and reached for another gulp of coconut water.

“No harm in asking,” you said mildly.

“Could you rub my tummy while I’m eating?” he said. “Not, like, my upper stomach. I don’t wanna get all sick ‘n burpy, but a little lower. Just to, um…” He scratched his ear. “Make my belly feel nice.” He glanced up at you, eyes wide. “As I said, you can say no—”

“Why would I?” you chuckled. “Giving you a little tummy rub is the least this humble servant can do.”

“Oh, do not say that,” Ruggie said, adjusting his scarf with one hand as he reached for more grapes with the other. “You’re just my friend, okay? I know you’ve got your whole ecclesiastical duty thing, but—ooh!”

As he spoke, you had slipped a hand beneath his skinny arms, and pressed the lower part of his belly, just as he had asked.

“That’s perfect,” Ruggie mewled, leaning a degree forward into your touch.

“Good,” you said. “You’ve been working so hard lately; if you can relax and feel at peace, that means I’m doing my job.”

“Oh, believe me,” he said, and punctuated his sentence with a proud burp. “I’ll happily relax when you’re pampering me like this. You don’t need to worry about me, promise.”

“Ruggie,” you said over the sound of his still-ravenous crunching, “you literally showed up collapsed on the temple steps. You’ll forgive me if I’m a little worried about you.”

His stomach gave a small thrum of vibration as he swallowed. “Alright,” he said, “you got me there.” He placed the clean-plucked stem of grapes back into the bowl. “But I’m feeling way better now!” Awkwardly, at first, he pulled you into a one-armed hug. “That food was great, and you’ve been so nice—you’re being so nice.”

You gave his tummy a poke.

“Hey!” Scowling, but seemingly unable to stop, he took another grape from the bowl, crushed it once between his teeth, and swallowed it whole.

“I’m relieved you’re feeling better,” you said, watching as he devoured more in the same manner. “You’re always welcome here, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied, grabbing a fistful more. “Duty to the common people, and all that—”

“Personally, too!” you retorted. “I like seeing you. I’d be happy to do this again—Uh, preferably without the you-almost-starving part.”

“I told you, I wasn’t—”

“You know what I mean,” you said. “Keep yourself well for me, okay?” You reached for the last bunch of grapes from the bowl, and handed one to him after plucking it off.

Ruggie popped it into his mouth, and rubbed his belly fondly as he ate. “No guarantees,” he said through his chewing. He swallowed, and grinned at you. “Especially not if getting in rough shape lands me this kind of treatment.”

You took off another grape, and Ruggie opened his mouth expectantly.

Blinking, you were caught off guard by this action, but understood it immediately, and dropped the grape into his mouth. “Hey,” you said, “no distracting me—”

“What?”

“I was going to reply,” you said, and suddenly froze up. Your hands flew back to their work at the grapes, and you fed him another. “I was gonna say,” you said shyly, “that you don’t have to fall over just to get me to feed you. You can just ask.” You swallowed dryly. “I mean, does it look like I’m just taking care of you ‘cause it’s my duty? I’m happy to do it, you know.”

Ruggie gave a soft snicker, and leaned against you. “Man,” he said, “no need to be sappy. You’re already spoiling me with food; the niceness is just overkill at this point.” He paused, weight warm and heavy at your side. “Ooh,” he said, “this does feel good, though. I think I, um…” He blinked slowly, ears pushing back as he stifled a yawn. “Do you mind if I lie down for a bit? I’m just a little sore all over from working so damn much.”

“You’ve still got a few more grapes left to eat,” you reminded him.

“I still want ‘em, just—”

“Lay your head on my lap,” you said, “and I’ll feed them to you.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Ruggie obeyed, tucking his legs up onto the bench and nestling his head into your lap as you made room for him by your side. “I feel like a prince, or something,” he mumbled.

“I’m sure you’d make a great one,” you said, gently placing a grape into his mouth.

“Maybe,” he replied, “but then I wouldn’t be able to come here whenever I want.”

You smiled. He relaxed as he ate, shifting, stretching atop your lap. His belly was markedly exposed, and, unable to help yourself, you reached a hand down to rub him there, smoothing out the rumples in his tunic, feeling the places where the food made his stomach bulge, and the little rumblings all over as he digested.

He took the last grape from you with his eyes shut, moaning slightly as he ate.

You told him so gently, petting his stomach as he swallowed: “That’s all of them. Are you satisfied? Want any more coconut water?”

“‘M good,” Ruggie said, and cuddled slightly into your lap. “Nice ‘n satisfied…” As he wiggled his body down into you and the blanket, a little burp escaped him. You supposed even dashing rogues like Ruggie had to unwind sometimes. He looked cute this vulnerable, trusting you in a way that few of your nocturnal friends might ever be comfortable with.

“You can sleep here if you want,” you told him. “I can set you up with a cot. You deserve a good, long rest before going back.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Ruggie said over the sound of a low grumble from his belly. “Not until—hic-mmrp—a little bit later, though. I don’t wanna move, ‘n I really don’t want you to stop rubbin’ my tummy…”

You chuckled, and continued to stroke him, running your free hand through his flaxen hair. “Alright,” you said. “Take some time to digest.”

“Yeah,” Ruggie said, and took a heavy breath. “I feel so good…”

You gave his belly a soft caress. “You deserve it.”

#moray writes #burping

[milkgemini]

Last Call II

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: This is SMUT! 18+ Minors DNI (i’m not gonna ruin the surprise by telling you what happens ;)

A/N: im so sorry that this took forever babies! i genuinely didn't think anyone was interested. this is for the person who requested part 2 on anon. ily. 

“It’s just here to the left” Jake’s head nodded towards his house.

The heels of your boots clicked as you walked by his side, your hand stuffed in the pocket of his coat from how freezing the night temperature was. 

His hands were warm, a strong contrast against your icy fingers. He rubbed his thumb against your knuckles in his pocket. 

He took your hand from his coat pocket, and held it in his grasp as he guided you up the steps to his home.

As you both approached the front door, he let go of your hand in search of his keys. The outside world was silent. The only sound ringing in your ears was the jingling of his keys, as you watched the condensation leave your lips into the frigid winter air. 

You wrapped your arms around his left arm, seeking any warmth you could find. He huffed a laugh through his nose in response.

Jake twisted the key, unlocking the door and inviting you inside. 

“It’s not much, but it’s mine.”

Your eyes scanned the room. His living room had a gray theme. Gray couch, accentuated by a dark blanket folded on the back of it. 

He had a stack of records piled in the corner leaning against what looked to be an expensive record player. 

Your fingertips traced the dark abstract painting he had hung on the wall. 

He went through the stack of vinyls behind you, flicking through the cases.

“Do you have any requests?”

You walked towards him to view your options.

Your eyes immediately caught the deep red album cover. One of your favorites, you’d recognize it anywhere. 

“Ouu this one please!” you almost yelped to him.

“Ahh, “Coming Home”. You have good taste.” he responded as he placed the vinyl on the turntable.

You could feel the warmth begin to rise against the skin of your cheeks from the compliment. 

The bluesy song began playing in the background as he stood from his crouched position, sliding his hand against the curve of your lower back. 

“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked.

“Well, what do you have? Don’t disappoint the bartender.” you quipped back to him with a smirk on your face.

He chuckled and responded, “Just about anything you can think of. Try me.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, watching him retrieve a glass from the cabinet and turning to face you, waiting for your request.

“Surprise me. Something sour, and don’t hold back.” 

“My kind of girl.” his voice was raspy, sending a chill down your spine. 

He quickly prepared your drink, sliding it across the counter to you, just as you had done for him earlier that night.

As you put the glass to your lips and took a sip, he began preparing his own. 

Simple. Whiskey on the rocks.

You winced as you watched him sip the straight liquor.

“Did I disappoint?” a slight frown splayed across his face.

“Not at all! Mine is great. I just… I don't know how you can drink that.”  the disgusted look remained on your face.

“Understandable. But this is Blanton’s.” he raised the glass to you and took another swig.

From your experience behind the bar, you knew that was expensive stuff.

“I’ve never tried it before, so I guess I shouldn’t make assumptions…” you mimicked his actions and pressed your lips to the rim of the glass, your eyes looking up at him. 

He stood opposite from you on the other side of the island in the kitchen.

“Would you like to try?” he offered as he began to round the corner, coming to your side. 

Your stomach was tight with nerves, from the man you were alone in the room with, and the thought of tasting the bitter liquor.

“Only because you asked so nicely” you reached for the glass in his hand and he pulled it back from you. 

Your eyes met his with confusion behind them. 

“If you're going to try it, you’re going to do so my way.” his voice was laced with lust. 

As he stepped closer to you, you could smell the deep cologne against his skin. His tan chest adorned by a silver medallion necklace. 

His pointer finger was curved and rested underneath your chin, tilting your head up to him. 

He pressed the pad of his thumb against the front of your chin, parting your lips for him. 

His fingertips against your jawline. Tilting your head back, he pulled your lower jaw down, opening your mouth for him.

He took a sip of the auburn liquid from the glass, and hovered himself over you.

Slowly, the liquor trickled past his lips into your mouth.

He used his pointer finger and middle finger to press against the underside of your chin, closing your mouth. 

“Swallow.” He commanded. 

You looked up to him, your eyes wide.

He watched you gulp it down, and before you could even register the burn from the alcohol, his lips smashed against yours.

His hands held your cheeks tightly.

His kiss was needy, begging for you with his lips. 

The tip of his tongue flicked against your bottom lip.

You opened your mouth for him, inviting him inside. 

You felt the warmth of his tongue slide against yours. 

As the kiss deepend, he pushed his hips into the side of your thigh. You felt his hardened length constricted against his jeans.

His saliva mixed with yours in your mouth as you swallowed him down. 

You trailed your fingers against the bare skin of his chest. Reaching the waistline of his jeans, you traced along the elastic band of his underwear. 

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, darling.” he mumbled against your lips, his grip on your cheeks remained tight. 

You hooked your pointer finger underneath the band, pulling him closer to you. 

He wrapped his hands around your hips, pulling you off of the bar stool you were sitting on. 

You stood before him. Your height reaching just beneath his chin.

Jake snaked his fingers through your hair at the nape of your neck and tugged the locks, arching your neck back for him.

His soft lips attached to the sensitive skin of your neck, planting quick kisses and flicking his tongue against you. 

“Second door on the right.” his voice vibrated against you as he continued kissing against you. 

He spun you around by your hips, playfully pushing you towards the direction of his room.

As you walked down the dark hallway, you reached your hand behind you. He interlocked his fingers with yours as you led the way. 

You pushed the door open and scanned the room. His duvet was a deep navy blue, neatly made which surprised you. 

Before you could even reach the bed to sit, you heard the door shut behind you.

Jake began to undo the buttons of his shirt as he watched you perched on the side of his bed.

“And what do you think you're doing?” he questioned, you could hear the smirk in his tone. 

“I’m sitting, Jacob. What does it look like I'm doing?” you were playing his game right back with him. 

He smiled to himself, looking down at the floor. 

You sat on your hands, your nerves coursing through your body, unsure of how he would take your snarky remark. 

His shirt fell from the floor as he took a step towards you. 

“On your knees for me.” he ordered and you complied, embarrassingly fast. 

His hips lined with your eyes as he unbuttoned his jeans. You assisted him with the zipper, pulling it down painfully slow. 

Your bottom lip was tucked tight between your teeth as you looked up to him, fingers tucked under the band of his underwear, tugging them down his hips. 

He helped you pull both his pants and underwear down past his hips, his cock springing free and slapping against his lower stomach. 

You licked your lips at the sight of his length, wrapping your hand around the base of him. 

The tip of his cock rested against your plump lips as you pressed soft kisses to the head.

His hips bucked towards you, needing to feel the warmth of the inside of your mouth.

He laced his fingers through the hair at the back of your head, slightly pulling you towards him.

You flattened your tongue against his length, licking a stripe against it from the base to the tip, your eyes remaining locked with his. 

His lips were pursed as he watched your every move from above. 

“C’mon baby. Taste it.” he applied pressure to the back of your head, pushing you against him. 

You opened your mouth slightly, only letting the tip in. Your tongue swirled around the head, as you brushed the wet skin of the inside of your lips against him.

A breathy moan escaped his lips, edging you on even more.

You lowered your jaw, opening your mouth wider for him. 

“That’s it baby. Let me in.” His words alone caused you to squeeze your thighs together, desperate for any sort of friction. 

You bobbed your head down his length slowly, allowing the skin to become wet with your spit. 

You picked up the pace of your motions, paying close attention to the tip each time you pulled back off of him, your fist still wrapped around the base of his cock with a tight grasp. 

“Just like that, fuck.” he moaned to you, barely a whisper. 

His words encouraged you each time. You wanted all of him. Craving the feeling of the tip of his cock brushing against the back of your throat. 

You flattened the palms of your hands against the bare skin of his thighs, looking up at him with doe eyes as you inched your mouth down his cock. 

He gripped your head with both hands as he began slowly thrusting into your mouth.

He looked down to meet your eyes, silently asking for permission.

You moaned with him in your mouth, granting him the access he so desperately craved.

He held your head as the pace of his thrusts picked up. His cock sliding against your tongue, you opened your throat for him. 

Tears formed in the corner of your eyes as you held back your gags from him. 

Jake felt the tip of his cock brush past your uvula, his eyes rolling in the back of his head. 

He gritted his teeth, trying to hold on as best as he could. 

“You’re filthy. Letting me fuck your face like this.” he spoke to your between thrusts, his fingers tugging your hair at the roots. 

You flattened your tongue, allowing him even farther down your throat, breathing through your nose. 

He pushed your face against him until your nose brushed against his small patch of hair.

He held you there a few seconds as you gagged around his cock. 

Jake pulled you away from him by your hair, a string of saliva hung from your lip attached to his tip. 

He swiped the pad of his thumb against your lips, gathering your spit before slipping it between his own lips. 

You moaned at his actions. 

He pulled you to your feet by your hair. 

“On the bed,” he pushed you back against the mattress.

His hands quickly found the button to your jeans, undoing them and tugging them down your legs. 

He held your legs in the air as he pulled each pant over your feet.

Starting at your ankle, he traced his lips against the inside of your legs, leaving wet kisses in his path. 

He curved his finger under your panties, pulling them to the side.

His pointer finger traced lighty down your lower lips, avoiding the place you wanted to feel his touch the most. 

You bucked your hips up to him, craving the feeling of his fingers. 

He parted your lips with his pointer and middle finger, his eyes scanning over your wetness for him.

His pointer finger ran up your slit before he brought it to his mouth to taste you. 

“Even sweeter than I imagined.” He sucked his finger, pulling it past his lips with a pop. 

You blushed before him, laying against the mattress. 

“Please, Jake.” you begged for him.

“What is it darling? Tell me what you want." He played with you with his words. 

“Touch me.” Your words were strained, you needed him.

His fingertips traced circles over your hardened nipples, hidden behind the thin top you wore. 

Your back arched off the bed, enjoying his touch, but needing more. You shook your head at him, a moan falling past your lips.

“Lower.” you wrapped your fingers around his hand, guiding him down your stomach. 

His hand reached the band of your panties, brushing the back of his fingers against the lace.

He swiped the back of his fingers against your clothed core. 

“Here?” he teased. 

You hooked your thumbs around the band of your underwear, pulling them down yourself, and spreading yourself for him.

“So needy, aren't you?” he pressed the pad of his thumb against the top of your slit, not parting your lips just yet. 

“Yes, Jake. I need you. Please.” you pleaded with him.

His cock twitched at the sound of you begging for his touch. 

His position changed, crouching before you, his face between your thighs. 

You watched from above, as he flattened his tongue, licking a stripe up your slit. 

His cheeks hollowed as he accumulated saliva to the tip of his tongue, letting it roll down from him and dribble onto your lips. 

You whimpered as his spit rolled between your lips. He watched your reaction with a smug look on his face. 

He pointed the tip of his tongue and explored the wet skin between your folds, rolling his tongue over the bud of your clit. 

Your hips rose from the bed at the feeling of him flicking against your sensitive bud.

He attached his lips around your clit, gently sucking. His eyes were trained on you from below.

You pressed the back of your head deeper into the pillow as you reached down to tangle your fingers in his long brown hair. 

Just as he did to you before, you pressed him further against you. 

His tongue circled the rim of your entrance as a high pitch squeal came from you.

He laughed to himself between your legs at your reaction. 

The tip of his tongue inched further inside of you as he licked against your walls.

He pressed the pad of his thumb against your clit, moving in slow circles around it. 

Jake left open mouth kisses to your entrance as his finger played with you above. The mixture of both pleasures created the familiar warm feeling between your hips to rise. 

“I’m..” you could barely make out the words to him.

“I know, pretty. I can feel it. Go head, cum on my tongue for me.” he instructed you. 

His words had the power to ruin you. 

With his voice vibrating against your wet center, you began to come undone against his mouth.

The walls of your entrance began to quiver for him as he pressed his tongue against you to feel it. His thumb never faltered against your clit. 

He toyed with you through your orgasm as your walls contracted for him. 

Your eyes squeezed shut as you let yourself feel every touch from him. 

As you came back down to earth, you lifted your head from the pillow to peek down at him.

His mouth had left your lower lips. He pushed the hem of your shirt up towards you to trace a line up your stomach with his tongue. 

You arched yourself from the bed to assist him in yanking your shirt over your head as he unclasped your bra behind you. 

He ripped the straps from over your shoulders to immediately find your nipples. He circled his tongue around the hardened bud, followed by his lips wrapping around them tightly.

He sucked against them, but not without scraping his teeth against the sensitive skin there. 

You sucked a breath through clenched teeth at the sensation. 

He crawled up further, his warm bare skin pressed against yours. 

His lips met with yours once more, leading in with an open mouth kiss. His tongue shoved into your mouth, licking into you. 

His mouth remained against yours as he gripped the base of his length, sliding himself against the wetness of your folds.

You groaned into his mouth each time the tip of his cock brushed over your clit. 

Your hand snaked down between your bodies, pressing his length down to be met with your entrance, signaling to him you wanted him inside of you. Now.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You desperately wanted to be stretched by him. 

He didn’t even have it in him anymore to tease any further. He wanted to feel your tight walls around him.

Without breaking the kiss, he pushed himself inside you slowly. 

You felt every inch as he sank deeper into you. 

You parted from him only to moan in pleasure from the stretch of his girth. 

He smoothed over your hair, tucking it behind your hair, before placing a quick kiss to your forehead. 

It was like he was preparing you for what was to come next. 

He leant back against his heels as he gripped his palms around the bones of your hip. 

He thrusted into you, watching himself as your walls sucked him in each time. 

His bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he caught a glimpse of your slick glistening against his length. 

His right hand left your hips to find your mouth. His thumb brushed against your bottom lip. You parted your lips for him and he pressed the pad of it against your tongue. You closed your mouth around the digit sucking lightly against it. 

Jake’s eyes rolled back as your tongue swirled around his thumb.

He pushed himself into you harder, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix. 

He retracted his thumb from your mouth to tap the side of your thigh.

“Turn around for me.” he commanded you.

You left your position to find yourself on your hands and knees, your back arched in front of him. 

Without warning, he smacked his palm roughly over the curve of your ass. A groan following from you. 

With both hands, he gripped your cheeks to spread you apart for him. 

He held the base of his cock and positioned himself at your entrance again.

Slowly, he slid himself inside of you from behind. The different position allowing him to thrust even deeper into you. 

Before he reached the hilt, you felt as his spit dripped against your backside, landing directly against your hole. 

You whined at the feeling as he rubbed the saliva against you.

He thrusted into you rough, as his thumb pressed against a place no one has touched before. 

He kept his thumb in place as he added pressure, unsure of how you felt. You could sense he wanted more. 

“Do it, Jake. Push it in.” you moaned to him in confirmation. 

“So fucking dirty for me.” he growled back to you, as he pressed his thumb deeper inside you, filling both of your holes. 

You arched your back more at the feeling. Feeling so full of Jake from every angle. 

He pushed himself into you, watching himself as he thrusted in and out. 

His thumb was pressed fully inside of you, the rest of his four fingers splayed across your lower back. 

He wiggled the finger inside of you, and you gave a strung out whine in response. 

Jake felt as your walls began to clench around him. Your wetness leaking down your thigh at the sensation of him pushing his finger into your ass, while his cock was shoved all the way inside of you. 

With his free hand, he slapped the side of your thigh. 

“Let go for me. Let me feel it.” he grunted to your between thrusts.

He started to pull his thumb from inside of you, just to push it back in at the same pace as his cock. 

Your body gave no warning as you abruptly lost yourself to him. 

You panted into the pillow as your orgasm washed over you. Your walls quivering around his cock as you push back against him, needing to feel every inch. 

You clung to his length, begging him to never leave from inside of you. 

With a choked sob, you felt it as Jake’s cock twitched inside of you.

Before he could ask, “Inside, please.” you confirmed for him before he lost his grip on himself.

The sound of your soft voice begging him to release inside of you sent him over the edge he was so tightly gripping onto. 

You felt as he leaked inside of you, spilling out onto your legs, running down your thighs.

He didn’t stop. He watched as he fucked his cum back into you. 

You whined at the wet sounds alone as he pumped into you. 

He stilled himself inside. 

“Gonna pull out now, okay?” His voice was soft with concern. You nodded your head to him from above. 

First, he slid his cock from you, immediately missing his fullness. 

Next was his thumb. He was slow and cautious with you. You hissed as he pulled it out. 

With both palms flat against your ass, he spread you for himself as he watched his cum leak from your pussy. 

Shock was beyond what you felt, as he licked a stripe up your slit, collecting a mixture of his cum and your own on his tongue. You squealed to him, as your head was turned against the pillow, trying your best to watch him. 

He dropped onto the bed, laying next to you, grabbing each side of your face with his hands before pressing his lips onto yours. 

You opened your mouth, tasting the saltiness of his cum against his tongue. 

Jake let out a final moan into your mouth, before parting from you and smoothing your hair down with his hand. 

He stared into your eyes, with a smile spread across his face. His gaze continued until he laughed to himself. 

“What?” you laughed back at him.

Before he could respond, he ran a hand over his face as he continued to laugh.  

“Do you treat all of your customers this well?”

Taglist: @gretasimp @writingcold @wowkakashi  @spark-my-nature @starshine-wagner @cassy-face @averagemisfit03

#jake kiszka #jake gvf #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka gvf #jake kiszka greta van fleet #Greta Van Fleet #gretavanfleet #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet smut #gvf fanfiction #gvf smut #gvf #gvf fic #jake kiszka x y/n

[sawyer-is-not-my-name]

Oliver Wood x GN! Reader

synopsis: after the Battle of Hogwarts neither you or your quidditch start fiancé are sure you’ll be making it to your wedding day

warnings: mentions of death and dying, sad, angst

By the end of the battle Oliver was left searching for his fiancé anywhere he could, he almost thought you had fled back to the small cottage you both recently bought together. That was until he saw you on a makeshift bed in the great hall. He immediately rushed to your side, kneeling on the floor beside you, grabbing your hand as he called for someone to help.

He didn’t know any healing spells that would help in this severity. Sure quidditch had led to a plethora of injuries but none of the spells he knew could fix this. All of his were quick fixes, for when he tweaked something during a game, or had to numb a pain.

“Oh leannan…” his free hand gently stroked over your cheek, he muttered a quick spell numbing your pain. Watching as your hand gently gripped his, and the look of pain subsided into discomfort instead, “Oli?” He tried his best to reassure you, running a hand gently through your hair. “I’m right here leannan” he said before looking back to see if someone was coming his way to help.

“Don’t leave me please,” he shook his head, “never, not now or ever” y/n had tears in their eyes, “I don’t want to die Oli” he shook his head tears spilling down his cheeks, “you’re not going to leannan.” Part of both of you was already going through the possibility, what if you were going to die, what if you never got to see your handsome fiancé at the alter. What if you’d never return to the cottage you both shared. What if Oliver had to go home alone, left with only your memory. What if youre whole future together was only 10 more minutes.

Tears rushed down both of your cheeks, one of his hands cupping your face to pull you into a kiss, “leannan, we’re going to get through this together” Right at the that moment someone came rushing to your aid.

The person who was now at your side, was no other than Madam Pomfrey, she did a quick once over of the couple in front of her. Recognizing them both immediately remembering the times y/n would sit with oliver whenever he was stuck in the infirmary because of a quidditch related accident.

The pair had now flipped roles, Oliver tenderly keeping y/n attentive so Madam Pomfrey could do her best to fix y/n. She looked at Oliver, he seemed to have gotten the message pointing to the large wound on y/n side that they themselves didn’t even know they had. She carefully and quickly got to work.

When she finished she informed Oliver, that his fiancé would have to be transferred quickly to St. Mungo’s, and even then she couldn’t guarantee that y/n would live. Oliver took that as a challenge getting to St. Mungo’s in record time carefully making sure nothing happened to y/n.

—

by the time they were situated in a room, in a hospital that was quickly filling up, Oliver still hadn’t lost hope. He intended to make sure you both got through this, just like he said you both would. That didn’t make it any easier watching healer walk in and out of your room, while searching for signs of improvement in you.

You’d been out for a week now, your body looking better but you still weren’t even awake. Not as much as a hand squeeze or fluttering of your eyelids had happened. The only sound he heard was your breathing. He wanted to talk to you and despite not knowing if you could hear him, he did.

“Leannan if you can hear me, I need you here. I can’t do this by myself” his voice seemed to break, but he continued, “We’ve still got a whole wedding to plan, and guests to invite, and a cottage we have to go back to. But I can’t go back without you, you make it home.” He couldn’t help but let out a sob. His head coming down to rest on the bed as he cried.

It wasn’t until your other hand made its way to his hair gently combing through it, that he calmed down a bit. “I love you Oli” you whispered through a raspy voice. “I love you too, let me go get a healer.” He was about to leave when you gently grabbed his wrist, he knew you were still weak so he didn’t pull away. “Stay here a moment please” he nodded, sitting back down and running a hand through your hair.

Spending a few moments in a comfortable silence, Oliver finally calming down now that you were awake but still wanting you to be checked out by a healer. “Oliver have you been getting sleep, or eating?” you looked over the disheveled man in front of you, he looked down bashfully, “some, it was hard having you in this position, didn’t want to leave your side.” you understood that, anytime oliver had a quidditch accident you never left his side no matter how insignificant it might be, you never left, you felt uneasy leaving him alone. You felt pain for Oliver never having wanted him to go through that.

The quidditch star in front of you still looked like he wanted to get up, “You still want to get that healer m, huh?” He nodded eagerly, he wasn’t resting until you were checked out and truthfully he wouldn’t rest properly until you both were able to sleep in your own bed. “Go ahead love” he got up bolting to go get a healer, and rushing them to your side. Checking over you and running a few tests before deciding you were doing much better than they thought. but opting to keep you one more night.

The night came and went Oliver still not sleeping, you did however make him split a meal with you, making sure your soon to be husband didn’t wither away before the wedding. As the time to leave came around you were beyond excited to get back home in your own bed, and cuddle with the love of your life.

Oliver carefully helped you into a clean change of your own clothes that his family had dropped off for you, staying to chat with you yesterday, beyond happy to see the improvement that had been made and to hear you’d be coming home to your cottage in Scotland. Much closer to them then St. Mungo’s.

Oliver gently held you up as you leaned into him for support still not at full strength but with the potions they gave you, you would be in a week or so. You held on tight to oliver as he apparated the two of you back home to the cottage. “Can we just cuddle and go to sleep?” you asked him, looking up at him. He nodded letting out a sigh of relief, his shoulders had finally relaxed. “Of course leannan that sounds amazing” he gently picked you up, holding you close to him as he walked you both to the shared bedroom carefully placing you down.

He helped you change into more comfortable clothes before changing himself, then getting in bed with you. You pulled him into your chest. your finger playing with his hair, gently lulling you both to sleep in no time. Having survived the war, and having a wedding to plan and a knot to tie in the near future.

#oliver wood x reader #hp fanfic #ow x reader #reader insert #oliver wood x gn reader #oliver wood x gn! reader #harry potter fanfic

[deadboyswalking]

Hero/Villain shigadabi where Tomura has been pro hero Touya's nemesis (read: mild nuisance) since Touya first graduated U.A. Little snippet below the cut? I'm still playing with the idea

The first time they encountered each other, fresh rookie hero Touya was "patrolling" (read: just chilling) at a local mall when he saw a skinny boy only a couple of years younger than himself running out of the game store, a bulky box clearly shoved under his black hoodie. The little fucker was fast and seemed to suddenly vanish as Touya pursued him, but not before he saw the boy's huge, wild ruby eyes and Touya's heart skipped a beat.

The game store's locked console case was crumbled into dust.

It was a year before Touya was called to investigate a series of mysterious break-ins and robberies at government buildings. It seemed as if the criminals had just appeared in the buildings and disappeared without a trace, save for, again, piles of dust where the security systems should have been. Touya was waiting in the headquarters of the HPSC when that strange boy popped out of a dark portal the way he'd suddenly disappeared at the mall. He'd grown in the past year, nearly as tall as Touya himself now, though a medical mask still covered his lower face. Touya would've recognized those eyes anywhere, though, and he didn't know how to feel about that.

"What the fuck?" the boy spat, his voice low and raspy. Touya crossed his arms, trying his best to give the intimidating aura of his father. With his short and slim stature, the effect was negligible at best.

"You're not very smart, are you?" Touya asked lazily, "You've hit every other building with information about the hero schools, so I figured you'd show up here eventually for the grand prize. Why? You thinking of applying next year, little kouhai?"

"I'm almost 17, jackass," the boy hissed. Strangely enough, he didn't bolt, seemingly as interested in where this was going as Touya himself was.

Touya hummed.

"See, I've been wondering about you for the last year. That dust Quirk of yours isn't registered, but as soon as I saw what you did to the security cameras, I knew it had to be you. Pretty big leap from stealing video games to stealing classified government documents, huh?"

"Pretty big leap from burning down a city block and nearly killing yourself in every fight to doing your little investigations, huh?"

Touya exhaled slowly and willed himself not to ignite. Okay, so the smirking bastard knew who he was. Big deal, most people knew about Endeavor's self-destructive, publically dangerous failure of a son, only allowed to keep his hero license because of nepotism and his own surprising talent for underground detective work.

"Who are you and who do you work for?"

"Go fuck yourself."

Touya snorted.

"Charming. Tell me the truth and I'll make sure the blame falls on whoever's giving you orders."

"Nobody–"

"You're just a kid. I know there's someone in charge of you, so just tell me who it is and I'll help you get away, okay?" Touya asked, trying his soothing-baby-animal voice, "You don't have to keep doing this. You can start again before they make you do something you can't come back from."

The boy cackled, an utterly joyless sound that seemed ripped from his chest like a hacking cough.

"Oh, you have no idea," the boy replied, the rasp even more pronounced, "But it's cute that you think stealing a Playstation and a flashdrive full of documents is the worst thing I've ever done. See you around, Touya."

"It's Dabi to you!" the hero shouted, darting forward with his hand outstretched as the boy melted into a dark portal, which popped out of existence before Touya could follow him.

#shigadabi

[loreensdarling]

eurovision song contest and gay panic

LOREEN ANTIS DNI; MEN DNI, MINORS AND AGELESS BLOCKS DNI; HOMOPHOBES DNI

PART ONE (?)

Plot: You're a singer for this year's Eurovision Song Contest. You're in for Poland in the Semi Final, and you are super hyped, competing in Eurovision at a young age and all by yourself is pretty exciting. With everything being already pretty exciting you didn't think you'd run into a certain Swedish singer that you've had a crush on for a while...

content warnings: afab!reader (important for possible part two), flirting, age gap (reader is 24, loreen is 39), use of nicknames (darling, honey), gay panic, all in one it's a lot of flirting and maybe some smut in part 2 if i can write something decent

writers warning: english is not my first language and I've never really written in English and outside of RP before, so I apologize if this is weird 🙏 I hope there's demand for one shots of our mother

---------

You are standing behind the stage of the Eurovision Song Contest semi final, watching the other participants through the huge curtains that separate the backstage and the actual stage. You are almost hyperventilating, nervously flapping your hands towards your face to attempt to cool down. You are sweating, more because of nervousness than of hotness.

These are the semi finals, your last shot to actually get into the finals. Even though you are pretty positive that you could get into the finale to represent your country, you are still very anxious. Everything up until here has been a fever dream basically, and getting to perform in front of thousands of people was amazing, but never before had you been so nervous in your life.

You'd only done concerts a few times before applying for ESC, and they were pretty small concerts, but since you got into the final contenders, won against other polish competitors and then was chosen to represent Poland, your fan base has grown a lot. People seemed to love you, and you loved the music and making music, so this was amazing.

Nervously you brush a strand of hair back behind your ear and check your makeup in a small hand mirror, before you look back outside. There are only three acts before you have to compete for a place in the finals. You sigh.

"Come on, Y/N. You can absolutely do this, you'll proudly represent your country in the finals.", you say out loud to yourself as you turn around - and bump right into someone. As you struggle to keep your balance, you can feel your cheeks flush red in embarrassment.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry, I didn't watch wh-", as you begin to rant down an apology immediately, are cut off by a rough, smoky voice. "Oh, it's alright, Darling.", the gorgeous, raven haired woman in front of you said in a low tone, her hand on your biceps to stop you from falling. You look at her, eyes widened.

You recognize her immediately. It’s Loreen. Admittedly one of your celebrity crushes ever since you saw her in 2012s Eurovision. And she has her hand on your arm. Her low, raspy voice, that accent. You don't know what to do, you're frozen in place, cheeks flushed red and your eyes anywhere but her face. It’s like your brain is frozen as you scan her over almost automatically, looking everywhere but her face.

Her outfit is hugging her body perfectly, and you can feel her hand on your biceps. Your brain is empty and your lips are parted as you breathe heavily. It takes you a few seconds to snap back into reality and if your face can heat up any more, it's probably doing that right now.

"I-... I'm really sorry, I'm a big fan, I didn't expect to meet you like... This.", as you manage to bring this out you bite the inside of your cheek. This sounds so stupid, why can't your poor gay brain bring out coherent sentences for once?

Loreen chuckled softly, looking you up and down for a second. "Are you alright, Darling? You look quite nervous", she remarks, slight concern in her voice. "Oh, Honey, is it the contest? It's your first time with a crowd this big, isn't it?", she asks. 

You nod, frowning slightly. Is it that obvious? Or did she check out every competitor that she would possibly be up against in the finale? Not that she'd have that much competition, you think. At least not from you. You notice that her hand is still on your biceps as she watches you with concern. With your brain so mushed, you can't even process the nicknames she was calling you.

As you finally lift your eyes to meet her concerned gaze you feel like you´re going to explode, so you look away again quickly. The close proximity is making you even more nervous. "Well, I'm confident you'll make it. I've seen your local finale, your performance is powerful, Darling."

This is it, you feel like your knees are going to cave in at any given moment. Loreen is encouraging you, and you don't know how much more of this you can take before your legs give in. This woman doesn't even know the power she has over you with that little crush that you have on her. Although, that crush is growing by the second. You're spiraling deeply in a gay panic.

"T-Thank you-", you croak out as your name is announced. You take a step back, quickly checking your microphone. "I need to go-", while you turn away, you almost stumble from how weak your legs suddenly are and you are pretty sure you must be redder than a tomato. Your cheeks are super hot, from embarrassment and from being turned on. God, the older woman is so attractive. And she probably knows that. 

You decide to quickly shake it off as you climb the stage, throwing the people a nervous smile. Her low, smoky voice is burned into the back of your head as your song starts to play.

"Your performance is powerful, Darling."

And oh, that little nickname keeps you going. It's burned into your brain, keeps you going through your performance, the way she said it and her voice, oh god, her voice. And oh, you deliver. By the end of your performance the people are cheering and screaming for you, and you throw them a smirk and wink at them. They go wild.

As soon as you leave the stage your knees buckle and you quickly hold on to the wall, taking a deep breath. "Shit.", you mutter. All the adrenaline that was rushing through your body during this performance was leaving your body all at once and you realize you are shaking, from excitement and stress.

You really did this. You went out there, and you have a big chance of being able to perform in the final for your country. Looking around, you take another deep breath and let go of the wall with a big grin. You need caffeine and a nap now, you decide. As you turn around to head for your booth, you spot Loreen. She is preparing for her entrance and as you look at her, she looks back at you for a second and smirks. You happily throw a grin back as you blush again.

Sitting down in your spot you mentally prepare yourself to see your idol, your crush, on stage. Then the lights go out and her performance begins. You aren't able to pull your eyes away from her for most of the time, she's gorgeous. And oh, she knows that, she notices your looks and winks at you. Or, in your general direction. The people go wild again, they don't care who this was directed at.

Somehow you manage to almost choke on your own spit when she winks in your direction and you have to turn away for a few moments, almost dying from a gay panic attack on the spot. If you thought your cheeks had been burning before, you've now been proven wrong, you're redder than ever. One of your friends and background dancers pats your back, laughing.

"Oh, you're so fucked.", she comments dryly. "Someone's in love." "I'm not!", you protest, but it comes out quiet and a little too defensive. Of course you're not in love, but your crush on Loreen is getting more and more severe by the minute. Your gay panic is so huge that you don't even notice the raven haired singer getting off the stage after finishing and heading in your direction.

You only notice when she suddenly bends over you, her hands on your thigh. She smirks at you, her nails digging in your thigh. You'd be embarrassed to admit it, but this turns you on, your brain is mush once again and you cannot form a coherent thought. You look at her in shock for a few moments, your lips slightly parted. How does breathing work again?, you think.

"I knew you could do it, Darling.", she whispered, her mouth directly next to your ear. Ungodly shivers run down your spine. You're a hundred percent sure that if you open your mouth now, you'd moan out loud. You don't even have the time to reply before she pulls back and heads back to her booth to wait for the results.

Breathless, your eyes follow her figure. Your cheeks are burning and there are so many emotions going on in your head. Was she actually flirting with you or did you interpret too much? You probably interpret too much, you think, how could a woman as gorgeous, breathtaking and talented as her flirt with someone like you? 

You are just some random singer competing for your country and she is a goddess. She’s not just out of your league, but you’re probably way too young for her liking. And surely not her type, you think, sighing quietly as your gaze lingers on Loreen.

You are snapped out of your thoughts and pull your eyes away from her and back to your group when your friend grabs your hand and squeezes it in excitement. You're about to learn your points from the public votes. Will you make it? You have to, you have to compete for your country in the finals.

Then, finally, your points are announced. You take a moment to process the amount of points you'd gotten, then you squeeze your friend's hand hard and squeal. "We did it!", she yells at you and you excitedly scream back. “We’re in!” 

You're in the finals, you'll be competing for your country in a few days.

You throw a short look back at the raven haired Swedish singer. She's smirking at you and mouths something. 'Well done, Honey', is what you understand, at least you're pretty sure of it. You give her a big, excited grin and then you're being pulled into a tight hug with your background dancers.

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