#The focus is on his arms and on his arms only

[screampied]

just need a oneshot where toji being so extremely soft with his pregnant wife.😔

៹ content tags. ៹ fem! reader, pure fluff, toji's a big softie, calls reader 'mama' + 'baby' & 'darlin'

wc. 2.0k

toji rubs his eyes, pure static forming into his irises for a bit as he’d awaken up from his nap. with a quick glance at the clock, it read two thirty. in the background played the intro from some old western movie that was on repeat. ah, ever since you’ve gotten pregnant he’s always been staying up with you, ruining his sleep schedule in the process. not that he necessarily minded, you were his wife and he’d do anything for you,

his ears twitch a bit as he hears a sudden ruffling noise of feet — verdant eyes of his focus on you and it’s you trodding towards him and he smiles. “heyy,” he murmurs in a drowsy tone, he figured you’d be awake. toji stares at you so lovingly, the cute baby blue nightgown you wore, winnie the pooh slippers that dragged across the fleecy carpet. with a yawn, he pats his lap for you to take your seat. “y’er lil waddle never stops bein’ cute, mama.”

“stop.” you frown with a pouty look, he’d always tease whenever you do your cute little walk. he grows to adore it, the cute rounded bump on your belly only getting larger. pretty soon, you were about to reach your second trimester. time flew by so fast, it was almost like before you could blink, you’d be meeting your beloved new baby. you slowly make your way onto toji’s lap and he slings an arm around you. he smells good, you were a bit tired already from that ten second walk, cute..

“sorry baby,” toji utters in a soft voice, kissing the back of your head as you relax into his embrace, leaning back. “was gonna wake ya up but ya looked so peaceful,” and he brings a kiss near the inner crevice of your neck. “miss me already?”

you still remain with the cute glowering expression. with a sigh, you shrug. “yes, actually. missed you a lot.”

“awww,” toji caresses against your thighs, his touch was delicate and gentle. as he spoke in a gruff voice, he nips a few more kisses toward the corner of your neck as you faced the other direction. “missed you more. ‘n i missed our girl too,” and that catches you by surprise, he’d always refer to the baby’s gender as a girl. as if he could read your mind, he chuckles before leaning his head against your shoulder. “whaaat? got a feelin’ ‘s gonna be a girl.”

“i think it’s gonna be a boy,” you mumble, feeling your heart flutter a bit. oh, it was always like this between the two of you. the constant banter of the gender, toji just knew it was gonna be a girl while you thought otherwise. he’d be happy with either or though. you, likewise. toji watches with half-lidded eyes as you turn your body a bit to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. you plant a kiss on his chin, lips brushing against his stubble and he hums in amusement. “did you get any sleep at all? you have eye bags, ‘toj.”

“ah, ‘m fine,” he grins at your concern, the scar slashed near the right side of his lip twinging in response. you were so cute—the pregnancy glow you had bestowed on you, he could stare at you all day. toji leans in to kiss your nose, yet he notices your deadpan. with a grunt, he surrenders.

“okay okay, the most i got was maybe four-ish hours,” and the look of worry on your face made his heart twist. toji pats your head, smoothening his tone. “don’t worry, baby. it was for a good cause. was up all night readin’ that book you bought like last week.”

with your brows furrowing in confusion, your lips part at your abrupt realization. “oh— the pregnancy fact book?” and then you giggle. “really? i thought you said books were boring, toji.”

“trust, they are,” he sulks, bringing his wrist to rub his eyes. you take a brief glance at his broken watch you bought him for his thirtieth birthday. despite it being unable to tell time anymore, he still flaunts it, all because it was a gift from you. with a low sigh, toji moves a few strands out of your face. “but, ‘m willing to try new things for you—er, for us. and it’s quite informative, it told me about y’er strange cravings ‘n it checks out.”

you frown. “what’s wrong with my cravings? you told me you like them.”

“well, darlin’ i love you a lot okay,” and he paints a wet kiss against your cheek. “but if i have to eat another peanut butter pickle sandwich with you, ‘m gonna lose it.”

“it’s not that bad,” you protest, bringing a palm near your stomach to rub it. the bump was easily growing as the weeks progressed—you couldn’t help but be excited once the week of forty rolled around. “you just have a bland appetite.”

toji rolls his eyes. “peanut butter and pickles, baby. not jelly, pickles. pickles?” and you look at him, he’s gently holding both of your shoulders before you giggle. “and i thought nothin’ could top the toast ‘n ice cream.”

you deadpan again. “okay now you’re just being dramatic.”

“i love you,” he boops your nose. “i love you and y’er weird food cravings,” and toji’s eyes trail down toward your tummy. so cute and round, he gingerly moves the fabric of your gown up to reveal your skin, a palm ghosting against your belly. “any cramps today? pain i should know about?”

“no,” you hum, immediately relaxing from his touch. the warmth of his hand made your breathing slow a bit. he moves it around in a smooth circular rotation before brushing a thumb against your belly button. “kinda scared toji.”

leafy, viridescent eyes meet its way back up to yours before his face softens. “what for, darlin’? good scared or bad scared?”

in a sweet, timid tone, you puff out a single shaky breath. “like … both i guess? i’m excited of course but ‘m kinda scared. we’re having a baby, toji. pretty soon i’ll be on my third trimester,” and he’s so attentive as you’re talking, quite literally getting lost in your eyes. who knew that you could turn this man into such a soft sap, he adored you. as you continue to rant, toji strokes your cheek with a warmhearted simper. “i watched lots of videos about birthing and it looks scary.”

“not gonna lie to you, baby. ‘s gonna be scary, but y’know what? ‘m gonna be right there with you,” and he strokes a thumb against the enlarging stretch marks growing against your belly. he’s gentle, tracing a finger against each one before his eyes avert back up to you. “i’ll be right beside you. holdin’ y’er hand ‘n all,” and he kisses the crown of your head. “y’er gonna be the prettiest mommy. our girl’s lucky to have you. i’m lucky to have you.”

for some reason, those last few words struck right through the veins of your heart. mentally, you promised yourself you wouldn’t cry—

but alas, your eyes start to swell up, bottom lip quivering and toji notices immensely at your change of body language.

“awww, was that too much?” he purrs, bringing you towards his chest. you sniffle, your nose digging into his neck and an arm of his cradles you. toji starts to rock you, he presses another kiss against the top of your head before humming. “didn’t mean ‘ta make ya cry, darlin’ but ‘s true. ya don’t gotta worry that pretty little head, ‘m gonna be right here for anything..”

a solid tear drops against his tank top before your chin rests against his chest. you slowly look up at him with that familiar pouty expression before he swipes a thumb against your eyes. “cutie,” he takes your tears away, your lashes all damp and long. “y’er even more emotional because of the baby too. hormones, aw yeah i know these facts by heart.”

“you’re such a dork,” you wipe your face with a laugh, the mood suddenly light again. toji was gonna be spewing out pregnancy facts at you all day, you knew that now. whilst you sat up, trying to re-collect yourself, you speak in a soft voice. “but really, thank you toji. i love you,” and you grab ahold of his hand. your fingers intertwine with his, squeezing it tight. “you’ll be a great daddy.”

“heyy girl, don’t make me cry now,” he teases, a thumb of his running across the softness of your hand.

toji’s face relaxes, the more he stares into your eyes, the more he falls more and more in love.

toji was just as excited as you, maybe even more.

he couldn’t wait to start this new milestone, this new journey with you. a baby, the two of you would be proud new parents. the thought of it alone brings a soft smile to his face before he leans in to kiss you.

you return the gesture,

closing your eyes while feeling his warm lips mash against your own. toji was so weak for you, happily so.

life was worth living for him again now that he had you and the growing baby in your stomach. once you met him, he thought he’d never move on. he was a broken man who came to the mere conclusion that he had no purpose— all until you came along. toji didn’t believe in second chances, but maybe he’d start. you were his everything, and he couldn’t have been anymore grateful to have you in his arms at this right particular moment.

after a while, the kiss departs and toji smears a thumb against your glossed lips. “you drive me crazy,” he whispers, soft jade like irises peering into yours for about fourteen seconds before he sneaks a kiss near your jaw. “oh, you just reminded me. i ordered somethin’ the other day.”

with your interest piqued, you watch as he grabs out his phone— toji opens some shopping app, swiping a thumb near the check out section before showing it to you. what you were staring at was a cute huge pink sticker for cars that displayed the words of, ‘BABY ON BOARD!’

“you’re so cute,” you lean in to hug him, finding his enthusiasm adorable. a hand of his strums against your back before he leans against the couch. “you’re really set on it being a girl though, huh?”

“yeah,” he presses his nose against yours. “or if it’s a boy, we can name ‘em toji. such a manly name.”

your eye twitches. “one of you is enough,” and he smirks, feeling your thumb play against his scar. “but toji, ‘s like the afternoon. you should go back to sleep.”

“not tired,” he shakes his head, wrapping two arms around your sweet frame. your scent had him always wanting more of you, so sweet. toji pats your back gently before his face buries into your neck. “i’d rather stay up ‘n talk with you.”

“but i was gonna go back to sleep,” you pout.

toji huffs with a smile, kissing the shell of your ear. “oh, you want me back in bed, ‘s that it? darlin’ you could have just asked.”

you blankly stare at him and he guffaws, standing up and pulling you with him. “ah, c’mon. let’s go sleep for another fifteen hours i guess,” he teases, and he helps you walk. toji gawks at your cute waddle. so cute, you felt like you had so much water stored in you. entirely full, your heels slide against the floor before you hold onto your husband’s bicep. “there we go, one step at a time.”

“i’m not a baby, toji.” you mutter, secretly feeling yourself get hot from his doting affection. he’s holding onto you and you’re holding on to him.

“y’er my baby,” he corrects, and once the two of you reach the empty bedroom filled with infant supplies and boxes of baby furniture, you take a seat on the edge of the mattress. toji towers above you as you sit, cupping your face with a sly smile. “wife,” he coos in a gentle voice, two thumbs fondling against both sides of your temples. “i love you. never forget it, yeah?”

“i .. love you too toji.”

he hums. “heh, before we sleep though. how about some pickles?” and your face lights up.

#★vegasbaby. #toji x reader #toji x you #toji fluff #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #female reader

[bi-writes]

the lies we tell

how far would you go for the person you love?

type: part one of the time rot collection pairing: simon "ghost" riley x tf141!fem!reader (x johnny "soap" mactavish) word count: 5k

cw: dark!simon, dark!reader, curvy!fem!reader, mature language and content, suggestive language and content, graphic depictions of murder + violence + extortion, mw3 spoilers, unprotected piv, oral (fem!receiving), cumplay (18+)

you don't believe in fate. you don't believe in god. you don't believe in anything at all, maybe, because luck disguises coincidences, and no good deed goes unpunished. everything you are and all that you have are products of a world that never stops spinning--and nothing about what has ended up in your way has ever been the selfish result of some higher power or some kind of entity that holds a grudge against you.

it's simple. in your world, if you don't think, you get your comrades hurt. if you hesitate for a second too long or take a step in the wrong direction, you compromise ops and let targets get away.

and if you're stupid, you die.

it only takes a second. one moment, your hands are steady, following careful instructions by a familiar lilt how to disable the ticking timer that counts dangerously low towards zero. the next, your vision blurs, and your head pounds, and you can feel the trickle of your own blood coming down the side of your face. you try and sit up, and when your eyes are able to focus just a little, you're staring down the barrel of a handgun.

you have never needed a knight in shining armor. the idea offends you, disgusts you, and it rips your heart out when you see johnny coming up behind him and pushing the gun out of your face just in time for the shot to hit the floor beside you.

and it takes only one more second for the next bullet to go through the side of his head.

you scream. it rattles the room, a horrifying sound, but you're too late. it happens so fast, it's ringing in your ears, but there's nothing you can do. you've never felt more incapable, more useless, and you crawl on your hands and knees to get to him. it hurts, your head pounds, but you will yourself to keep moving until you fall over his chest, gripping the edges of his vest, shaking him.

no. no, no, no, no.

"get up!" you cry. "get up, get up, get up!"

he's still warm when you bury your face into his neck. when you feel the scratch of his stubble, the softness of his neck, the dark skin that shows where you kissed him the night before and the scratches along his arms that are from your own blunt fingernails.

"get up!" you hiccup. "you can't--you--you're not..." you drag him into your arms, picking up his head, and your hands shake as you cradle him into your body. you press your lips to the hole in his head, and you will it to disappear, to go away, to close up and spit out the bullet that was meant for you. "johnny--johnny, you have to get up--" your vision goes hazy again. "you...y-you have to get up."

when it's quiet is when you notice the shadows that hover over you. you don't move--you clutch johnny close, your arms tight around him, and when a warm hand touches your shoulder, you cry out, shoving them off.

no. no. no.

"no! no--" they're firm now, kyle gripping one of your arms, your captain taking the other. they drag you off, getting you onto your feet, and you thrash. you kick your legs, scream, anything to get them off of you, so you can pick up johnny's head and show them his eyes, because he has to be alive, he isn't gone--"no! no! get off of me! johnny! johnny!"

reality only sinks when you see him. ghost shifts, until he stands between you and what had been, and when you meet his eyes, you stop moving, shaking your head.

"simon--" your voice breaks. "simon--tell them--" you gasp. "we need a medevac, we need--he needs--"

you fall into his chest, and he catches you. one big arm wraps around your waist, and he grunts, tossing his rifle over his shoulder and cradling the back of your head with his other hand.

"simon--" you sob. "simon, it's not--it's--" you shut your eyes when you feel his gloved hand tangle into your hair. "it's not true, he's still warm, please tell them--!"

he says your name, low and gentle, and you shake your head. you won't say it. you won't believe it. it isn't true, because if it's true, it's all your fault, and you won't accept that, you can't.

you only laughed with him hours ago. shared his bed. woke up tangled between his sheets, pressed skin to skin against his burly chest, whispering against his lips about all the hours you would spend being lazy and unproductive when you finally got home to the bed that was actually big enough to hold the both of you, not the cot in the barracks with no locks on the doors--

you jump when the door shuts behind you. time passes without notice when you are this alone. you look around the flat; it's cold, and it doesn't look lived in, not like before. he always liked to leave it neat and proper, because it felt nice to come home to a clean home, but this isn't home anymore.

you pick up your bag and leave. you weren't even able to make it a few steps inside. you don't have it in you to get your things, to pack your clothes or your shoes or anything that still is in there because it won't feel the same to wear them again if he isn't here to see you.

price's name graces your phone all too often. he calls mornings, he calls evenings, he calls from unknown phone numbers. he says he's worried about you, that you didn't show to an important briefing, that you are welcome to take your leave but you need to tell him that you're alright, but you don't answer. when the call comes, an official one, asking you to gear up because wheels are up in an hour, you don't show up, and there is nothing he can do except scratch your name off his list and declare you dishonorably discharged.

but the world still turns. it doesn't stop just because your own did. you find yourself in need of the things that people use to survive, superficial papers and coins that rattle in everyone's pockets that keep them satiated with roofs over their heads.

at first, you start small. a friend of a friend is crying, hiding her bruised face, and she confesses to you that everything would just be easier if her boyfriend was gone. you're not there to see her face when he never comes back from his gambling night.

it starts as something good. johns threatening their girls disappearing when they take a smoke break. following drunk girls home only to drag their stalkers into dark alleyways. until one day it's a suit sliding you an envelope thick with notes, and you don't even bat an eye when you slip it into your jacket.

this is all you are now. you don't have anything inside. you aren't happy, you aren't good, and despite covering your crimes in the veil of defending those who can't, you know that it is just an excuse to wet your hands in the blood of someone else so you can forget what his own feels like.

because you can't forget. everywhere you turn, you see him. in the blue of someone else's eyes. in the dark curls of someone else's hair. in the shadow of another man's beard, the sound of a scottish accent, the plaid of a kilt that looks like the one he had shown you once that he said would be yours when you married him, because ye will marry me, bonnie, ye will--he always said you would even though you protested that you won't be a military wife, you won't sit at home and cook his dinner and grow his fat babies. and maybe you wouldn't, but he was good at showing you that he would fuck you dumb like a good wife should be, and you never had a problem with that.

he lives in the dark weather. the bricks of the buildings you pass by, the scratch of them almost mimicking the callous of his big palms. when rain touches your lips, you think about the way he would kiss you breathless, the feel of his spit on your tongue and the way he seemed to bare your soul with nothing but his smile.

the silence, it chokes you. you liked arguing; it meant he was alive, it meant he cared. he was charming. outgoing. he exuded fun, and he never ran out of energy, and maybe that's why you hated your superior so much. because johnny's eyes wandered, and you hadn't been around as long, and sometimes you would catch him staring at the back of a big, broad lieutenant only for you to rear him back and stuff his face between your thighs to distract him.

ghost always kept you on your toes. you knew he was a problem as soon as you joined their team. johnny was not subtle; from the first moment you met his eyes, you knew you would end up naked and underneath him in a short while, but it wasn't until weeks later that you noticed how stiff your superior was with you. how short. how mean. how angry. you didn't realize you had stolen something from him, but it was hard to feel guilty because johnny never behaved as if he belonged--he sought you out, he chased after you, he fell to his knees and begged for your attention, a hungry, starved dog that pawed at your pants for just a lick of the sweetness that pooled between your legs.

but that was why. johnny was starved. he wanted to love, he wanted touch and reciprocation and for the person he loved to tell him they loved him back, and that wasn't ghost. ghost held up a wall, even to johnny, and it wasn't enough. you would give what he would not, and maybe that angered ghost to some degree, because you could do what he couldn't, you could give what he didn't possess, and maybe he was jealous of that. jealous of how easy it was for you, and how impossible it seemed for him.

but the world keeps spinning. because it doesn't care about what you can and can't do. it won't stop, and neither would you, and he couldn't prevent what happened to you. he couldn't save the heart he didn't have.

and he couldn't save johnny from the bullet he would take for you.

and you think you hate him for that. you hate yourself for it, but you hate ghost, too. johnny couldn't see what you could see. his attention span was too short, he never looked long enough, but you did, and you noticed, and you saw the way ghost behaved. the subtly, the quiet longing, the eyes that never left him and the way he closed his fists. the twitch of his arm as he fought reaching for him, the way the masked moved as he contemplated saying something to him.

it was pathetic. it was pitiful. but you loved johnny, and you weren't going to try and coddle a traumatized man into taking what you really wanted. he loved johnny, you think, but he didn't love him enough.

not enough to fight for him. and not enough to save his life.

you haven't been paid for this. no one told you to look for him. no one told you that he was your mark, no one told you that he was the next on your list, that he deserved to find the end of the line at the killing side of your chosen weapon.

but he does deserve it. because you hate him. because he loved him, and he hadn't done anything to stop what never should've happened.

when he flicks on the light in his kitchen, he doesn't even react when he sees you standing there.

he's wearing civilian clothes, but you know better than to underestimate him. a hoodie under his rain jacket with the hood pulled up over his head, dark jeans over heavy boots, fading eye-black around the dark of his eyes, the only part of him visible under the balaclava. he could never quite cover up how striking his eyes truly are, or the blonde of his lashes. and he could never hide how big of a man he really is underneath it all.

"knew ya'd come eventually," he says finally. you try not to show any emotion, keeping your face neutral as you stare at him. he takes a step further into the flat, and the click of your handgun sounds as you hold it up. he still doesn't react, making his way towards the fridge and pulling a bottle out. he uses the edge of the counter to pop the cap off, and he grunts as he takes a seat at his table, relaxing into it.

you pull the chamber back, loading a round into the gun, and ghost narrows his eyes. he is still calm, very unbothered for someone about to eat the bullet he should've swallowed all those months ago, and it angers you more, unnerves you.

why isn't he afraid of me?

"wot's the price?" he asks, tilting his head to the side. "how much t'rid y'of me?"

when you don't respond, he laughs, humorlessly. this angers you, too.

"oh, i see..." he sucks on his teeth. "doin' this all on y'r own, eh?"

your lip twitches, and his eyes flicker, as if he's happy to get some sort of reaction out of you.

"i hate you," you whisper finally, and all he does is shrug his shoulders. "don't deserve to be here. to lead that team. to still call yourself a fucking lieutenant when you don't have anyone's back except your own."

he stares, not moving, and you envy how still he can be.

"and i know you're not going to wherever he is," you laugh bitterly. "not you, not someone as fucked up as you. you'll never have him again."

but neither will i.

"tha' wot y'think?" ghost asks. "tha' i don't have y'r back?"

"he's dead, isn't he?"

he leans forward, pushing his mask up slightly, and you watch with a shaky hand as he takes a long sip of his beer. his adam's apple bobs as he swallows, and you follow the pale lines you see that litter his lower face and neck. drags left behind from dull blades, the pieces of his skin that have been carved out and haphazardly put back together.

he looks like what you imagine you would, if someone looked on the inside of you. if someone pulled back the softness you wear and peeked underneath--they'd see you just like this. carved up, mutilated, picked apart. the anger wanes, just a little. you hate it, because it feels so true, the reflection of yourself that you see in him.

"why didn't you save him?" your voice breaks. your hand is shaking violently, your eyes are blurry with tears, and your legs feel weak. you look at him accusingly, and he stares right back. you can see more of his face, just his lips, but it's enough that you can see the way he snarls slightly. "why weren't you there? why--"

"y' 'ave no fuckin' idea--"

"you didn't love him enough!" you snap. you use two hands now, trying to hold the gun steady. "you didn't love him enough! y-you gave up on him, you fucking--"

"y' 'ave no idea wot i felt," he says, and you quiet, because his voice is dark and deep and a warning for you because he won't be so calm for long. "'ave no idea wot he was t'me."

"he was mine," you whisper, and you taste the tears that are falling down your face.

"wasn't always yours," he growls, and your hand shakes too much for your own good, and when he stands, he's too quick. he knocks the gun out of your hand, and it skids across the floor, and you cry out when he has you up against the wall, one big forearm trapping you there as he presses it firmly against your throat. he towers over you, glaring down at you, and when you try and use your legs, he forces you flat against him as he puts one thigh between your legs and holds you easily.

he's too strong. too big. too much of everything you aren't, and all you can do is gasp for air and thrash as much as he lets you.

"listen 'ere," he mutters, pressing down harder against your throat, and your breath hitches as you stare up at him through your tears. "the fuck y'wanna fight about? want t'kill me? want t'hurt me? wot the fuck are y'gonna do t'me that someone else hasn't, huh?" he spits at you now, angry and unhinged. "been buried alive. gnawed at m'own fuckin' hands t'break free. split apart from the inside-out, so wot the fuck can y'do t'me tha' i'll be afraid of, eh? y'r just a sorry fuckin' git tha' can't fuckin' admit y'weren't lookin'--and he's dead, and tha's a fact, and the sooner y'wrap y'r head around tha', the sooner y'can stop right fuckin' feelin' sorry for y'rself. y'think i don't play it in m'head everyday? thinkin' about wot i could've done t'get t'him?"

you break, crack, the tears spilling free. ghost isn't capable of feeling what you feel. of loving the way you love, of holding onto something so tight that he can't let it go, it isn't in him. he's fucking dead on the inside, you know that much. he wears that skull because he wants everyone to know that death is his friend, not his enemy, and that when he finally succumbs to his mortality, he'll just fucking go home.

"thinkin' about wot i could've done t'get t'you?" he breathes, and you blink up at him, your lips parting, trembling, and you take in the deep breath that he allows, and you aren't angry anymore. you don't understand. it doesn't make sense. "he had ya--" ghost wraps a hand into your hair, tugging on it, bringing you closer. "he almost had ya..."

what?

your eyes flutter shut when he presses his forehead to yours. his grip is firm, he isn't letting you go.

oh.

"almost had ya," he echoes, in a deep whisper, and you nuzzle your face to his, subconsciously.

oh...

maybe you were just naïve. so egotistical, so selfish, that you misinterpreted everything that you saw. was it anger, or was it longing? was it jealousy, or was it lust? was it the shame of the way he felt, or the timidness of revealing the truth of it?

wherever johnny was, there was ghost. right behind him, in the dark, purposefully watching.

or was he just waiting?

you want to feel guilty. you want to feel angry, you want to fight for the gun that escaped you and press it to his chest and pull the trigger, but you don't have it in you. you spent so long hating him, you didn't realize it could've been someone else.

vying for the attention of someone unattainable, someone unavailable, untouchable. someone that can understand the way you feel unlike anyone else in the entire, unforgiving world that keeps fucking spinning--

"b-but--"

"was never jealous," he admits, and you swallow hard. you almost stop breathing when you feel the faint brush of his lips against yours. "y'were out of m'reach." he loosens his grip on your neck, but you don't move. "couldn't 'ave ya, couldn't--"

the kiss is messy. you lean forward just enough to swallow his words. your heart squeezes in your chest, it bursts, and you cradle the back of his head as you slide your tongue between his teeth and taste him hurriedly. you want to know him, you want to understand him, you want to crawl inside the warmth he emanates and pretend the world stopped moving right before it took away the thing you loved more than anything.

you hate him, don't you? you hate all that he is, you hate the man he isn't, you hate him because he loved what you loved, and he didn't do anything to save him, you hate him because he had what you had, and he wasn't selfish enough to not let him go.

you hate him because even though it is all your fault, he doesn't hate you, and you think that's what you hate most of all.

because i am not worthy of anything anymore.

you want him to hate you. you want him to kill you, you want him to blame you for everything you've done. you want him to remind you that you aren't worthy of any kind of affection, of love, because you were stupid, and so was johnny, but he won't do it--he won't. he slides his hands down your sides, he puts them around you, picks you up from under your thighs and carries you until you fall underneath him onto the cushions of his couch that you don't deserve to feel.

he feels too good. he bares his layers. he takes his jacket off, slips the hoodie over his head, and you stare speechless as he kicks his jeans low and strips the mask off of his face.

your hands shake as you cup his cheeks. he's so pretty, unfathomably so, and you think you're crying because you recognize him even though you've never seen his face before. there's something so familiar about the shape of his nose, the way his brow bone feels under your fingertips, and you cry because you loved johnny, but you might love ghost more.

fuck.

you don't know him, and you think you love him more, and it isn't because you love johnny less, it isn't, but while johnny loved unconditionally, ghost loves you because he isn't capable of not loving you. you love him more, and it hurts to love him more, because he sounds grateful that bullet took everything from him except for you.

when you look into his eyes, you wonder if he let it happen. if he saw johnny step in front, if he knew where the bullet would land, and let it happen so that it wouldn't happen to you.

fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck.

it's selfish. it's disgusting. it's cruel, he is so cruel, it's frightening to think about him hesitating just to keep you, but it's even more frightening that you are looking up at him, all this time later, and you're letting him have what he abandoned everything to take.

you're letting him slip the shirt over your head. the pants from your legs, steal the lace from between your thighs so he can settle himself there and bury his head in the warmth of all that he wants.

he's cruel about this, too. he eats like he has never eaten before, like he tastes what he has been searching for his whole life and will lose it if he doesn't consume it all. he barely breathes, arms hooked around your thighs as he yanks you close, tongue buried inside as he coats his mouth in everything that you are and swallows it just to take more. you arch your back, bow it tight as he devours. and devour he does, squeezing the thick of your thighs hard as he bobs his head and fucks you with the warm muscle of his mouth. it drags along your insides, slips between the puffy folds, swirls around your clit until he suckles on it viciously, until you are crying for a different reason and letting the terrifying thoughts spill out of your ears until there is nothing to think about but the man between your legs and the love you have for him more than another.

"simon--"

it spurs him on. his name, the one he doesn't use anymore. it clouds his own head, and he groans as he opens his mouth wide and tries to eat you whole, eat you wet, eat you entirely like he will die if he doesn't.

and it isn't enough. never enough. he snarls when you cum, using two fingers to slip inside of you and feel the clench of your walls, and then he slips them out and feeds those fingers to you. you choke on his hand slightly, the girth unfamiliar, and when he smiles, wickedly, you shiver, afraid.

his love is so visceral, he let johnny die. his love is so broken, so jagged-edged and terrible, that he let go of what was his to have it. he smiles because he knows what he wants is now his.

did he know? did he know what would happen to johnny all that time ago and let what we were manifest because he knew how it all would fucking end?

ghost is a sickness. ghost is poison. ghost is what lives under children's beds, he is the black hole that sucks in the glow of anything nearby, that swallows anything in its path because anything other than what he wants is in his fucking way.

was johnny in his way? he must've loved him, he must've. they were lovers, friends, comrades, they stood back to back and faced their makers with nothing but each other--he must've loved him, but now you are so afraid, because if he did love johnny, what do i call what he feels for me?

did he know that johnny's love would kill him? did he know, and he let him love me anyways, because he's so patiently twisted inside?

he grips your jaw tight, and your eyes sparkle, diamonds in the wasteland you must be drowning in, and he shakes his head. it's so dark, night blackening the room, but you can see his own eyes bright as day. there is nowhere else to look. this is the man you have resigned yourself to. this is the thing that feeds on what you have left, and you should run away, he has killed what you truly are, but you won't.

i can't. i'm not capable of it. i'm not strong enough to leave, he has me, he fucking has me--

and he does. he won't even have to tie you up, he knows you won't leave, you can tell that he knows. he kisses you, still holding onto your face, and you just sink more into the cushions as he uses his free hand to find your entrance and sink himself deep.

it takes one smooth grind of his hips to press himself against you. his hips meet yours, and you whine when he lets go of you, gripping you around the thighs and hoisting you underneath him so you're nestled right under him, knees up and pussy fluttering. he seals it, he's infected you, and you should tell him to go away, you should tell him to stop, but it feels so good, it feels so nice, he's so big, he's mine, mine, mine--

"all y'needed," he murmurs, staring down at you. "'s all y'needed, luv. somethin' to shut y'up."

your body betrays what you feel inside. it grips him tight; every time he drags his cock out, it fights to pull him back inside, and the grunt he lets out as he sinks deep again tells him he knows this, too. no matter what atrocities the two of you commit, this is where you will end up. staring each other in the eyes, knowing you are black inside, and fucking each other anyway because that is my reward, this is where i'm meant to be, this is where i'll end up in whatever fucking universe we end up in.

"y'feel me, swee'eart?" he asks, pressing his palm to your stomach. you rock with him as he grinds slow, hitting you deep and powerful every time, and you nod frantically, your lips parting as you rattle every time he hits his hips to yours. "feel me right 'ere...yeah..." he smooths his thumb over the stop his tip hits, and you whimper, sliding your own hand down and over his, keeping his touch there. he fucks so well, every move he makes draws the blood from your head and makes you feel stupidly wonderful, and he knows just when to angle his hips to touch the sensitive little clit that pulses in rhythm with his thrusts.

this is what you are. this is what you always were going to be, even if you fought it, and you want it to hurt that johnny was collateral damage, but it doesn't.

it doesn't.

your eyes meet his, and he has your face in a strong grip now, leaning down as he picks up the pace. he hits a gooey spot inside of you now, a wet squelch sounding out as you drip, as you wet his cock because he is every desire you didn't know you had, and he bares his teeth, smiles down at you, he has me, he fucking has me, he'll never let me go.

"all mine," he slurs, and you aren't coherent enough to read between the lines. you aren't lucid enough to understand what he means, that now that you don't belong to anyone, not even yourself, there is no logical place for you to be except for underneath him. for him to own you, from the light in your eyes to the very breaths that you share with him.

connected, one being, and if i do not obey, i don't know who he will take next from me.

but there isn't anyone left to take. not even yourself, because you think it has already been given.

you cry when he holds you by the throat and fucks you stupid. hips snapping, breathes short and heavy, the spill of your arousal and the need of the very oxygen to breathe. you claw at him, wanting more, your stomach clenching and a feeling catching in your chest because you are climbing a mountain so fucking tall, and please get me there--i'm so close--yes-yes-yes!

your eyes roll back into your head when he cums. he groans into your ear, fucking you through it, gripping your hips tight as he keeps his hips pressed to yours. you feel so full, a kind of euphoria that is beyond you, a hazy place of pleasure that you've never been to before. it clouds your vision and the thoughts you know you should have.

the thoughts that would make you run. the ones that would reach for the knife you see taped under the coffee table and use it to slit his pretty neck.

you blink up at ghost, trying to think, but he bends low to kiss you again. you whine as he settles down between your thighs, his weight heavy and solid above you, and you relax with both of your hands on his face.

he smiles, and it should scare you, but it doesn't. you want it to hurt, but it doesn't. you want him to kill you, but he won't, you want to kill him, but you can't. his eyes all but confess what he's really done. the secret he hides inside but reveals in what he holds in his very hands. the world keeps spinning. it doesn't care. and, you suppose, neither do you.

because all you do is smile back at him.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #ghoap x reader

[servicpop]

✶ ﹑ㅤtutoring seshㅤ﹏

NOW STARRING : adrien x bottom m!reader

「ㅤNSFWㅤ」ㅤtutor sesh w/ your deliquent situationship but he can't focus on the studying, only you!

✙ warnings — parents are home , manhandling(?) , obsessive 'n a little pervy adrien , slight hair pulling , bodyworship(?) , Adrien is a little silly in this fic

notes ,, this was supposed to be short but I got carried away ^^;

Adrien had called you over to his house for a "tutoring session." For past few weeks, Adrien has been near-failing practically every single class except for gym class and whatnot. Realising he needed to improve his grades or he'll never graduate with you, he called you on one faithful evening to come over and help him study.

Obviously you complied; it was nice to see Adrien showing some sort of motivation to improve, so you changed into some casual clothes and began to walk to his house. You had prepared your laptop, pencil case, and textbooks, all ready to put in a few hours of tutoring. When you arrived at his front door, you grazed the back of your knuckles against the wood and knocked once or twice, expecting Adrien to show up with a proud smirk like he always did.

But it wasn't Adrien. When the door swung open, you saw his mother. You've only seen her once or twice but never up-close like this. The words caught in your throat as you clutched the straps of your bags, trying to find the words that never came. As if heaven answered your prayers, you saw Adrien jogging down the stairs and to the door, leaning on the door frame with his arm held above his head.

"You came," He grinned, taking the bag from your shoulders as he pulled you inside by your wrist. He helped you take off your shoes cinderella style and neatly placed them beside the doorway. He was awfully caring right now. Your hands felt crammy as you took a glance at Adrien's mother watching the two of you interact, a small blush dusted your ears while you quickly turned away. It must've looked like you were dating with the way she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"Well, mom, we'll be in my room if you'd excuse us," Adrien flashed a toothy smile at his mother before snaking an arm around your waist and pulling you to his side. As he walked you up the stairs, Adrien found an opportunity to tease you, "You nervous meeting my mom?" He asked, squeezing your sides playfully. You shoot him an unamused gaze and he lets out a hearty chuckle from that. Adrien's hand wrapped around his gold doorknob, twisting it before he halted for a second. "Uh, wait here for a second, I gotta clean up my room," he didn't even wait for a response before slipping into his bedroom and closing the door behind him.

"Shit," Adrien muttered under his breath as he quickly shoved the polaroids and photos of you from his desk and into his drawer. He couldn't let you see how god damn obsessed he was about you. He couldn't let you see the photos of yourself stained with a white sheen, no, he wouldn't want to scare you off.

Adrien finally emerged from his room, pushing the door wide open for you to come in with a smile. You didn't question it. As you walked in, you were instantly hit with the scent of his cologne and natural musk. It wasn't a strong enough scent to burn your nose but it would still take you awhile to get used to it. Besides the scent, Adrien's bedroom was relatively clean for a guy who was titled 'the school deliquent.' He had a few sports posters plastered on the walls and his shelf had a few trophies from his childhood. You spotted the baseball bat leaned up against the wall alongside with the volleyball and basketball resting next to eachother. Adrien was sure athletic.

As you two sat down beside your desk, you pulled out all the equipment needed for studying and turned to Adrien, "What do you wanna study?" You asked him and got a small shrug in response. Well, why not start with biology since you conveniently happen to have a textbook that covered the subject.

Around 30 minutes pasted and you were diligently teaching him about human anatomy, glancing over to see him nodding once or twice. You thought it was going well but Adrien on the other hand... He was too focused on the way your hands glided against the pages, tapping the pen against the paper rhythmically, and how your eyes fluttered to him ever so often. Shit, he was horny as hell right now. Just the thought of those hands intertwining with his as he fucks the intelligence out of you is enough to get his blood pumping to the wrong places.

"Adrien? Are you listening?" Your voice snaps him out of his twisted fantasies and he leaned in closer to you, his voice dropping down to a whisper, "You know, I'm a hands-on, visual learner..." That shit-eating grin spread across his face as Adrien pat his lap enticingly, trying to draw your attention to the print in his sweatpants. But knowing you, you wouldn't give in so easily — you were called here to tutor him, not anything else.

"Just answer one more question and I'll—" Before you could even finish your sentence, Adrien's arms wrapped around your waist and he hoisted you up from the chair, practically slinging you over his shoulder. His forearms flexed around you, making sure you didn't fall before placing you on his bed, the mattress dipped from the sudden weight. "Try to be quiet 'kay? My parents are home," He nipped at the shell of your ear before hastily undoing your belt and sliding your pants off. Did he care that his parents could come in at any moment? No, but it was much more exciting to see you try and keep quiet.

"Can we kiss?" Adrien's voice was almost whiny, his eyelashes batted at you innocently — even though he was far from innocent. Nonetheless, you didn't respond, you've set certain boundaries that prevented you and him from getting attached (even though you may or may not have broken it a couple of times). "No," it was a simple, sharp answer that Adrien grumbled at. He understood where you were coming from, he was a bad influence and you were this goody-two-shoes. But he couldn't deny the part of him that wanted something more than just meaningless flings. He huffed, murmuring a small, "How can I study the muscles of a tongue then?"

Scooping you up back into his arms, Adrien ignored your small protests and shifted your position so that your stomach would lay flat against his bed. His hands met the back of yours, pinning you down as he slotted each of his fingers in the spaces between yours. "What happened to studying, Adrien?" Your scolds were muffled by Adrien's pillow and seemed to fall short of his ears. As he held you down, he grinded his hips against your ass, groaning softly from the pure excitement he felt. It had been a few months since he was about to get his hands on you, your pictures just wasn't as good as the real thing.

"Calvin klein hm?" Adrien chuckled softly, trailing his hands from the back of your palm, to your shoulders, down your spine, and to the waistband of your boxers, "Next time don't wear anything." His fingers hooked the elastic before pulling it down and off your legs. You couldn't see what he was doing from your position, and every touch made your skin jump, he was so unpredictable. His fingers traced the curve of your ass before spreading them apart to see your hole. "This is the anus right?" He asked, and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

"—Yes," you hesitated to answer him, he was obviously playing games with you, but there was no harm in humoring him. You heard the faint rustling of clothes before you felt something prod at your entrance. You sucked in through your teeth, was he seriously going to do this with no lube? "Sorry, don't got any on me right now." It was like he read your mind and instead dipped his head down to lick a stripe over your hole. It tickled, and your body naturally jerked away from it before he grabbed your hips and held them down one more. Weirdo.

He shuffled behind you, placing two knees on either side of your legs and his fingers angled your hips a little bit up. The slight burn of Adrien pushing into you made your fingers curl around his pillow, gripping it like your life depended on it. He slowly pushed in, filling you up until his hips met your ass. Even if your skin was flushed against his, Adrien pushed impossibly deeper inside of you until he could feel his tip press against your prostate. His hands tightened around your waist, stopping you from squirming and forcing you to take it.

"Is this your prostate?" He asked, his voice slightly trembled from the pleasure that coursed his veins, he was trying so hard to control himself. This time you ignore him, you know well that he knew. From the lack of a response, Adrien let out a breathy laugh before he finally decided to move, pulling out almost all the way before slamming into you. Your eyes flew open and your knuckles grew pale from how hard you were holding onto his pillow, your whines were muffled quite well, thankfully.

Adrien groaned ruggedly as he pounded you into his bed, the headboard knocked on his wall with every thrust. "You're being so quiet," He chuckled, reaching a hand out to ruffle your hair affectionate before moving to grab your hand. You couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic enough with the way he kept slamming into you like it was a punishment. Everytime he pulled out, he cooed at the way your hole would suck him back in like it missed him. "Fuck, I just can't with you," He let out a shaky breath as he rolled his hips against you, pushing further and further, trying to reach places he couldn't before.

He was reaching so deep that tears began to blur your vision, everything felt so overwhelming but numb at the same time. He leaned down to press kisses on your knuckles as he held your hand tightly under his own. His hips were relentless, slapping against yours, you were sure he'd leave your bruised and sore tomorrow. It was like he completely forgot they weren't alone in his house. In fact, Adrien's fingers moved from your hand to your hair, threading them through each strand and grabbing a handful, tugging it gently so your head would lift from the pillow.

"Kiss?" He asked once more, his lips already ghosting over yours. At this point you didn't care, all you could feel was how Adrien was throbbing inside you and how your dick rubbed against his white sheets with every thrust. "Fine," you exhale and he took the opportunity almost immediately, capturing your mouth in a heated kiss as he pulled your hair back for more access. His tongue pushed past your lips, exploring your mouth while simultaneously keeping your moans contained.

The dim lighting, the way your eyes fluttered and threatened to roll back, his dick pulsing inside you, it was all too much for his perverted brain. "Gonna cum," he muttered against your lips, biting on your bottom lip. He his hands return to your hips and his head falls over your shoulder. You could feel your own orgasm building up as your body started to squirm, you cock growing sensitive from the constant rubbing against Adrien's sheets. Adrien paused his thrusting just to pull out completely and shove himself back in, causing a loud whine rip from your throat and you body jolting.

Your cum splattered across the bed as Adrien smiled against your shoulder, keeping you from squirming as he came inside you, filling you with his semen. With a few more wet thrusts, Adrien finally stilled, watching as his own cum bubbled around his dick as he nestled deep inside you. "We should do this again, hm? Next time we can study our chemistry," his arms snaked up your body to wrap them around your shoulders, capturing you in a bear hug as he looked up at you with a goofy smile.

"What's with you and being so corny?" You groan, pushing his face away from you.

a/n: i luv adrien sosososo much ... wish he real ,, also not sure if he was a bit ooc here ,, a bit sillier than usual but I hope you guys like it ♡

#servicpop — fics/drabbles #bottom male reader #oc x male reader #x male reader #oc smut #mlm ns/fw #sub male reader #top character

[elizaleclerc]

intertwined, sewn together 🌊

lando norris x reader

summary: fem reader & lando share a sweet day w friends on a yacht <3

song: not a lot, just forever by adrianne lenker

author’s note: love this sm my heart ugh!! fluff & cute summer vibes. kinda grumpy x sunshine ; allusions to a bad childhood <\3

word count: 1.8k

You reclined on the plush deck of the yacht, basking in the warm rays of the sun as they caressed your stomach. The smell of sunscreen and tanning oil lingered in the air, leaving a sticky sheen on your skin. You relished these lazy days on the yacht, surrounded by your friends Lily and Carmen who chatted animatedly next to you.

Lost in the pages of your book, you barely registered their conversation as you lay with one elbow propped on the ground and the other hand holding the book, using it as a shield against the bright sun. However, your peaceful reading was interrupted by the rowdy boys behind you. Alex, George, Charles, and Lando were engaged in a game of cornhole, their shouts and cheers growing louder with each round. Their competitive banter blended with the sound of the cornhole sacks hitting the wooden board, making it difficult for you to concentrate on your book.

With a deep sigh of frustration, you carefully placed the book down and turned to your friend Lily, who was sitting next to you on the deck of the yacht. The sound of raucous laughter and shouting from the boys had grown increasingly louder, making it difficult for anyone else to carry on a conversation.

"Could they be any louder?" Carmen asked, her voice barely audible over the noise.

You nodded in agreement, “I know right, it’s like they are the only ones on the damn yacht.” You turned over, and, now laying on your stomach, you propped yourself up on your elbows and watched the boys play.

Your eyes were immediately drawn to Lando, his intense focus on the game evident in the way his brow furrowed and his arms swung the sandbag with ease. You couldn't help but admire how effortlessly he moved, his muscles flexing with each throw. His fingers ran through his messy summer curls, adding to his charming and carefree appearance. He was perfect in every way, and just knowing he was yours made your heart soar with happiness.

Lily and Carmen resumed their conversation, still reclining on their backs. You found yourself growing quiet, a natural state for you. Your introverted nature preferred observing to actively participating in conversations.

As a child, this led to struggles in making friends. Some labeled you as mean, but the truth was that you simply had little patience for most individuals. Your shyness was often viewed as a weakness and your silence as threatening, but slowly you emerged from your shell. Childhood experiences had left you with deep scars, ones that most people could never imagine. For a long time, you kept these memories buried deep within, trying to forget they were real. But then Lando came into your life, and he helped unravel all the pieces of you that had been hidden away. He didn't run away or judge you; instead, he loved every part of you as if you were made just for him. And because of him, you met others who saw and appreciated the real you as well.

That’s why you loved these people on the yacht. Not just Lando, who you’ve been dating for three years now, but even his friends and their girlfriends. They were lively at times, but they could be calm and relaxing too, having real and deep conversations. When you started dating Lando, they welcomed you with open arms, and the group quickly felt like a newfound family, one that you desperately needed. 

Lando was sunshine personified. His deep, rich laugh was infectious, bringing out the same pure happiness in everyone around him, including you. You couldn't help but notice how his eyes would crinkle at the corners when he laughed so hard that tears formed in his eyes. And with his perfectly tanned skin and light brown hair, he looked as if he had been sent down from the Sun itself just for you to love and for him to love you back even more fiercely. His genuine empathy and understanding towards your struggles made it feel like he could see right into your soul, and his persistent effort to get to know you only further solidified your growing feelings for him.

The two of you truly seemed like opposites, but everyone around you saw how much love was between you and Lando. As you watched him play cornhole, a small smile spread on your lips. It was inevitable, Lando seemed to just have that effect on you. 

“Lando, looks like you’ve got an admirer,” Charles shouted to him as he must have caught you staring. Your face flushed, even more so with the sun beating down. Lando caught your eye, shooting you a wink. 

“Good, I’m on fire! Best game I’ve played yet.” Lando proudly proclaimed, which made you grin even more. 

Carmen turned on her stomach now to watch along with you. “George, baby, how are you doing?” She asked him. 

Lando was the one to respond though, “Oh, he’s playing like shit. You better take his place.” Everyone bursted out into laughs, everyone except George, who always got slightly offended at jokes made at his expense. 

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” George sighed with a wave of his hand. “Let’s play another game, I’ll beat you this time.” 

“That’s what you said five games ago,” Alex laughed, which caused the guys to break into another fit of chuckles.

You were enjoying watching them play, but as the sun beat down on your skin and sweat began to form on your brow, you knew it was time to take a break. Walking over to the cooler, you grabbed a cold bottle of water and some freshly cut strawberries. The icy liquid provided instant relief as it cascaded down your throat, while the juicy sweetness of the strawberries left a refreshing aftertaste. 

Feeling rejuvenated, you made your way to the edge of the yacht and settled into the welcoming shade. As you gazed out at the vast expanse of ocean before you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of tranquility wash over you. The rhythmic lapping of waves against the boat and the gentle breeze caressing your skin were soothing in a way that only being on the ocean could provide.

Lost in your thoughts, you reached for your book and lost yourself in its pages. The sound of laughter and splashing from your friends faded into the background as you immersed yourself in the fictional world within. Time seemed to pass quickly as you turned one page after another, until you noticed the sky beginning to change color. A soft orange glow now painted the horizon, signaling that sunset was near.

You moved from your spot on the yacht and went back out to see what everyone else was doing. Lando was laying out on a large sunbed, clearly exhausted from his hours of playing cornhole. As you looked around, all of the boys were laying out too. You couldn’t find Carmen or Lily, but you assumed they were still trying to soak up the last bit of sun they could for the day. 

“There’s my pretty girl,” Lando smiled as you approached him. You stood beside his sunbed as he kissed the top of your hand. “Where did you run off to?” 

“I went to read for a bit. It was kinda distracting earlier when you and the guys were playing.” You explained. He motioned for you to cuddle up next to him on the bed. As you tucked yourself by his side, he smirked. 

“Distracting because I was so good looking?” He bantered and you rolled your eyes. 

“No, because you guys were being so loud.” You joked and he faked a frown. You smiled, “But you’re also very good looking.” 

He tilted your chin up so he could kiss you softly, taking in every bit of you and the strawberry taste still on your lips. As you laid your head back on his chest, he ran his fingers through your hair, playing with it lazily. “I love you a lot you know”

You traced your fingers along his torso and grinned to yourself, “Yeah, I know.”

“Good. Just making sure you don’t forget it.” He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his warm breath mingling with the soft breeze. As the sun began its descent towards the horizon, you both sat on the sunbed, watching the stunning display of colors in the sky. The vibrant oranges and deep blues blended together like a masterpiece, filling you with a sense of awe and wonder. Despite all the pain and suffering in the world, moments like this reminded you of the beauty and magic that still existed. You could feel the warmth of the cooling sun on your skin, leaving a subtle tan as it slowly made its way towards the horizon. The peacefulness of the moment was enough to lull you into a blissful sleep.

~

Charles propped himself up on his cushioned chair, and saw you asleep on Lando’s chest. “She knocked out, huh?” He smiled at Lando.

“Yeah, guess so. The sun makes her tired sometimes.” Lando replied in a low voice to try and not to wake you up. 

“You know, I never heard her say she loved you back earlier.” George remarked from the other side of Lando. 

“She doesn’t have to, I know she does.” Lando replied, which confused the guys. He saw their perplexed expressions. “You know it took her a long time to say it in the first place but…I’ve known her long enough to where I know it without her having to say it.” 

“I still don’t understand.” Alex piped up next to George. 

“I mean, cmon, what’s so hard to understand? You saw the way she watched me earlier. Her eyes said it all. And the other day when she peeled oranges for me without me asking? And yesterday, when we got home, she rambled to me about the book she was reading. You could just see the light and love in her eyes. She never used to be that way, not when I first met her.” Lando knew the other guys still might not get the full picture, but he remembered how you were before you guys started dating. He remembered how you would shut out the world and not let anyone in. He knew that you used to not express how much you liked things or even smile when you ate your favorite foods.

He knew you loved him, he knew it went without saying. You were his everything, and simply being nestled next to him, feeling the gentle rhythm of your breath against his side, was enough to make his heart swell with love. No amount of conversation could match the pure joy of watching you smile or hearing the sweet melody of your voice. The two of you were intertwined, sewn together as the perfect pair.          

#f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfic #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

[writingfromasgard]

Manspreading [Ghost]

My blog is a 18+, minors be blocked regardless of what they interact with.

[Masterlist] || Requests are Open || GIF by hollow-epitaph

cw: unprotected sex, dirty talk, unedited writing

At the best of times, Simon "Ghost" Riley is like an old cat; finicky and reclusive. In the moments he isn't, where he craves your touch and can't seem to stand an inch of air between you two, he crowds you. He has his hands resting on your waist, chin resting on your shoulder while he watches you type away on your keyboard.

"Y'work too much, love."

You pause your typing to kiss his cheek, nearly finished with what you were working on. You know he wants your full attention right now but these changes are due by tomorrow afternoon and if you finish now, you can spend the rest of the night and part of tomorrow giving him what he wants. His hands squeeze down on your hips, a kiss pressed to your clothed shoulder.

Simon could be patient. He's waited days before in the same sniper position to get off a shot. He would distract himself like he was now, pressing his nose against your neck, inhaling deeply. Kissing whatever his lips could reach, fingers squeezing as he pleased. You're concentration didn't suffer any as long as he behaved.. a relative term as far he was concerned.

His hand snuck up your shirt, and a quick hug was all he wanted. You let him until his hand crept up your ribs. You pushed his hand back down to your hip with a firm squeeze.

"C'mon. I was only givin' you a hug." He says, nuzzling the back of your neck.

"Your hand was going higher than necessary for a hug, Simon."

Your fingers tap away, focus narrowing on the screen. It doesn't take long for his hand to slide down the top of your thigh, slowly guiding your legs apart. He buries his face in your neck, pressing feather-like kisses so as to not disturb you. With both hands on your thighs, he squeezes them, groaning in your ear. You stiffen on his lap, fingers freezing over the keys. You can feel the thickening bulge under you and sigh, saving your changes to close out the edits.

Your palms push against the edge of your desk, sliding the shared chair back from it. His drags you back down when you attempt to stand from his lap, grinding up against you slightly.

"I'm not fucking you in my office chair again." You peel off his hands, standing again.

"That so?" He gruffs, the tone in his voice unsettles you.

He wraps his arms around your waist, dread spreading in your stomach. You try your best not to flail, worried you'll damage your computer, when he hauls you with him. He tosses you slightly and you're bent over his shoulder now as he trots to the bedroom. You scream when he throws you on the bed, bouncing on the plush mattress. Your eyes are wide as he rolls his neck, eyes narrowed on your jostled form.

It's not often he's rough with you. His fingers dig into the waistband of your bottoms, jerking them down your legs hastily. He pushes your legs apart, spreading you by your knees. He licks over the front of his teeth, tilting his head. You feel more like a small animal as his belt jingles.

Simon draws his cock out, spitting on his palm to pump along the hardening length. His other hand sinks into the bed next to your hip as he leans forward, tip swiping over your slick folds. He teases your entrance, pushing the tip inside, stretching you around the fat head. His hands shift once he's done teasing, gripping your hips; a warning of what's to come.

You arch up off the bed, choking on the air leaving your lungs, as his hips snap forward. "Simon!"

"I know, love. You're struggling to handle it like you always do." He laughs low and rough, drawing his hips backward.

Your legs cling to his waist, hands reaching for his shoulders, preparing for his next thrust. He plunges inside again, shifting to press his body weight on you while pistoning unforgivingly into your body. The bed creaks under his movements, your body jolting with each thrust he gave you. You whined, digging your nails into his shoulders, dragging them down his bicep.

His groan is deep, right up against your ear, "Body was made f'me. Be a good girl and fuckin' take it."

His arms dig between the mattress and your body, using it to drag you down to meet his hips. His face buried in your neck, the slick sounds of his cock plunging into you filling the room. The muscles in your stomach clench, his name starting to leave your throat hoarse from how loud you were being.

You can hear him encouraging you, complimenting how well you're able to handle him when he's like this. Sweat dampens the sheets underneath you, the air growing a little too hot, his guttural growls dragging you closer to the edge.

"Simon, please!" Your voice shaking as the intensity builds.

Simon's fingers dig into your skin, leaving an painful ache. "You gonna cum f'me? Gonna squeeze down on my cock so i can paint your insides?"

He grinds his cock into you, that fat head of his cock nudging the perfect spot inside you. Tension snaps in your body, a wave of bliss that's almost as painful as it is pleasurable hitting your cock-drunk brain.

His hips lose their rhythm until he stops thrusting all together, sinking deep into your warmth with a strangled groan of your name. You feel a bit more weight on top of your body, hot breath hitting your ear. It's several moments before he's able to unwrap himself from you, gently pushing your legs to unhook from his waist.

Simon rolls off, laying beside you with his breathing evening out slowly. He clears his throat, opening it to speak, "Bloody hell, we're going to get another noise complaint."

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon x reader #cod x reader #cod fanfic #simon ghost x you

[sescoups]

favorite coworker - choi vernon

masterlist

word count: ~5.3k (i'm so sorry)

summary: vernon is your favorite. he just gets you. of course you can't resist him - not that you would ever want to.

a/n: this is definitely NOT proofread, and i'm sorry. idk i just have the fattest crush on vernon, honestly i can't be held accountable

18+, MDNI!!! warnings under the cut <3

warnings: oral (m. receiving), making out, creepy old man (he doesn't do anything, he's just a creep), mention of vomit, lmk if i missed anything! <3

“Wait so hang on, you mean to tell me you’ve never what..? Gone down on a guy?”

“Oh yell it out, why don’t you,” you groan, smacking your forehead into the counter. Thank fuck you just cleaned it.

Vernon is your coworker at the record store in the middle of the city. He’s super chill, does what he’s supposed to but doesn’t stress out or get pissy if you’re having a bad day and work slowly. He’s great. He’s just… a bit unaware of his surroundings, a lot of the time. You’re lucky only two people are in the store at the moment, or you would have simply passed away.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace. “I just kinda can’t believe it? I mean, you’ve had sex for sure, right?”

“Yes, Vernon.” You roll your eyes and glare at an old man who is shamelessly looking you up and down. “I’ve had sex before. Just not a lot, I guess. And why is it so hard to believe?”

Had he been looking at your face, your raised eyebrow might have tipped him off to the fact that he should drop the topic and back off. Unfortunately, in typical Vernon fashion, he was doodling nonsense on a notepad, so he missed it completely.

“Well I mean, you’re hot,” he said before finally looking up at you. He started tapping his pen against the counter, leaning his weight on one hand against the counter. “You’re also pretty open about your life in general, so I just figured two plus two equals one, you know.”

“What the fu- Vernon. Think about what you just said.”

“Oh fuck. Yeah I deserved to fail math in high school.”

You burst into laughter at his words. This is exactly why you love Vernon, and why he’s your favorite coworker. You’re laughing so hard you barely manage to greet the new customer who just entered the store. Your coworker is smiling, satisfied with his ability to make you laugh.

The old man who is still eyeing you, now with extra focus on your boobs, comes up to the register just as you manage to sober up from your laughing fit. You clear your throat and turn to face him, giving him a tiny smile in the spirit of customer service. Apparently a mistake.

“Excuse me, sweetheart,” he starts, running his tongue over his front teeth in what you suspect is supposed to be a seduction attempt. “Would you mind maybe showing me some of the records you have in the back?”

The smile leaves your face immediately, and you’re about to absolutely emaciate him when Vernon cuts in to make sure you do not lose your job over some smarmy geezer.

“She cannot, sir. It’s store policy. Soz.”

You hold your snort in, but barely. The old man huffs and glares at the man next to you, crossing his arms over his chest. Honestly, you’re curious at this point. You’ve never seen Vernon handle confrontation - again, very chill dude - but you also know he is very protective over his friends.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” the old man says with an eye roll. “I was talking to the pretty young lady.”

His smile sends a shiver down your spine, and you take a deep breath. The old man watches your boobs rise and fall. Seriously, fuck this guy. You force the customer service smile back on your face because you actually really like and need this job, and decide this sack of shit isn’t worth it.

“He’s right, sir. It’s against store policy, and I’m currently on register duty. If there is a specific record you wish to see, we can look it up in the system.”

“I’ll keep looking for a while… in case you change your mind.”

The way he winks at you makes your blood boil, and it’s a wonder your teeth don’t crack from the pressure of your jaw. The man walks away, and so does Vernon. He can’t really kick the guy out unless he does something physical, so you don’t know what he’s trying to do. Soon, though, your confusion melts into amusement and glee as you watch your coworker follow the man around the store, loudly dissing his music taste whenever he picks up a record. He keeps walking just a little bit too close for comfort, and after about three minutes, the man gives up.

You take huge pleasure in the way the man skulks out, hands in his pockets and back hunched over as if he’s trying to get away from something - or someone. Returning to the register, Vernon grins to himself and resumes his doodling without a word. You shake your head in amazement before going to help the other two customers in the store.

The next time you’re working with Vernon, you have the closing shift. Usually only one person is supposed to stay back after closing and clean up, but you just received a large shipment of vinyls that need to be sorted and placed into protective sleeves, so the two of you are working overtime together.

It’s a pretty slow shift, and the two of you pass the time by playing music for one another and guessing the artist and the title. You’re much better at it than he is, but only because you’re good at memorizing things; he has a far more varied music taste than you, and would easily have won had he remembered more than two song names and five artists. As per the terms of the game, the loser has to go out to get the dinner you preordered from a restaurant down the street. It’s not far, but it’s raining, so you’re glad to be exempt.

While your colleague is gone, you close out the register and sweep the floor so you only have the vinyl sorting left after you’ve eaten. The break room smells like wet dog and Doritos, so you bring two chairs out together with the foldable table that you’re going to use to sort the vinyls. Since no one is in the store anyway, you can people watch through the windows while you eat.

Vernon comes back in just as you finish setting up, soaking wet from the pouring rain. You coo at him when he shivers, and he shoots you a playful glare. He ends up holding his glare for all of two seconds before a wide smile stretches across his face.

“I left an extra shirt here at some point, do you think it smells like teenage boy?”

You escape the break room with two plates and some utensils in hand, laughing at his question and probably unfortunate fate.

“Because of the proximity to the break room? Probably. That shit is unavoidable.”

He grimaces before taking his jacket off, hanging it on a hook behind the register. He disappears to change while you plate the food, humming to yourself. You try not to think about how he’s probably half naked right now, and turn your attention to the fact that he most likely will smell atrocious to keep your head on straight.

You do love Vernon. He’s a great coworker, obviously, and he’s a great friend too, but that’s not really the full extent of it. You’ve been battling your crush on him for months now, because it’s pretty clear that he isn’t interested in you. Besides, if you ever did date, things would get awkward at work if you broke up. No, he is one of those people who should stay firmly at arm’s length. Unfortunately.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a loud bang, making you jump a good foot in the air.

“What the fuck, Nonnie?”

“Sorry,” he grimaces, checking that the door he managed to fling directly into the wall hadn’t done any damage. “I tripped.”

“Only you, Vern,” you sigh. “Well, food is ready to go. Let’s eat!”

The meal, consisting of some kimchi jjigae, rice and side salad, passes by in relative silence. You occasionally hum in content, and Vernon often slurps his jjigae really loudly which prompts you to giggle. He always looks glad to have amused you, and you need to look away often in order to control your emotions.

“Dude,” he groans after his third serving, “I’m so fucking full.”

“I’m not the one who got an order for five people, genius,” you groan back, your own stomach feeling like a water balloon. “So good though.”

“So good,” he nods earnestly.

You can’t stand to look at him like this; you need something to do with your hands. So you stand up and stretch, which actually does help the food settle in your stomach a bit. Your hair, tied in a bun to avoid getting any food in it, comes down to release some of the pressure on your scalp, and then you feel ready to get started.

“Take all the time you need, man, but I’m gonna start on the first box. I want to get home before dawn, if I can.”

He flashes you a thumbs up and slumps against the table to enter into a food coma. You scoff at him and shake your head before clearing the dishes from the table. Thank God you have a dishwasher in the break room.

You bring out the first box and start sorting it, referencing the list you have as you go to take inventory. It’s repetitive work, but it’s kind of soothing, too. You do your best to make the plastic of the vinyl coverings crinkle as little as possible, wanting Vernon to rest for as long as he needs to. Three servings of kimchi jjigae would make anyone drowsy.

The first sign that he is still alive comes ten minutes later when he starts drumming a random rhythm on the table. You snort when you recognize the rhythm, pausing with a vinyl halfway into its covering.

“You can’t drum the melody to Dun Dun Dance, Vernon.”

“I can do whatever I want,” he protests weakly, cheek still pressed firmly against the table surface. “But nicely done. What about this one?” He drums out another rhythm, and now that you know it’s a melody he’s following, you recognize it quicker.

“That’s Candy by H.O.T.”

“Nice.”

“You gonna work or rest, bud?”

Vernon whines at your words and rolls his head to rest his forehead against the table instead. You wait patiently as he gathers the strength to sit up properly and kick a box of vinyls over to him when he seems more alive.

“Life isn’t fair,” he pouts, “I just did so much work eating all that food, and now I gotta do more?”

“It’s like that,” you agree absentmindedly, marking off a stack of vinyls on your list. “Can you turn on some music, please? The silence is creepy.”

He nods and connects his phone to the store speakers, choosing the playlist the two of you created together on a similar night of overtime. After that, the two of you slip into a rhythm together, unpacking vinyls, checking the list, and then putting them into a protective sleeve. It’s mostly silent aside from the music, and sometimes Vernon drums along to the beat on the table, but it’s comfortable. You kind of don’t mind spending a few hours like this.

When you’re two thirds through the stack of boxes, you both decide to take a break. Your saint of a colleague brews some coffee, and you hop onto the checkout counter to browse through your phone while your brain cells take a well-deserved rest.

“Bless you,” you say as you accept a mug full of coffee. “We’re making pretty good time today, eh?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, taking a sip and wincing at the scalding temperature. “We haven’t really been talking, so.”

“That jjigae really took you out, huh?”

“Oh yeah.”

You grin at him and blow gently over your coffee. It’s still too hot to drink, as evidenced by the steam rising from it, but the smell alone is kind of waking you up. Vernon grabs your attention by clearing his throat gently, and you turn to look at him. He’s fidgeting a bit with a pen left on the counter close to your thigh.

“I, uh… I wanted to say I’m sorry about that dude the other day. The creepy one. I probably should have kicked him out, but I didn’t know if I could…”

Your heart melted a little in your chest. It was obvious he had been carrying this around with him, mulling it over and worrying about it. About you. It was endearing, and dangerous for your heart. You bit your lip and placed your coffee mug on the counter next to you.

“It’s okay,” you say earnestly. “He sucked, and I was uncomfortable, but you still made him leave. I didn’t feel like I was in danger or anything, so don’t worry about it.”

“I just feel like it’s partially my fault, for kind of yelling about the fact that you’ve never sucked a dick before.” You’re incredibly grateful that you weren’t drinking coffee at that moment, because you definitely would have spat it out all over the floor. His bluntness never ceased to surprise you. It was unbearably adorable. “I should be more aware of my surroundings, especially when talking about something sensitive like that.”

“Well,” you start, pausing thoughtfully. “I don’t really think that man would have acted differently either way, to be honest with you. Men like that are just… like that. I also don’t really care who knows I’ve never given a blowjob before. It doesn’t matter, at the end of the day. I haven’t done it because I haven’t slept with anyone who’s dick I wanted to suck, and that’s all. I just wish I knew how sometimes, you know?”

He shuffles his weight around at your words, shifting from foot to foot. He’s still fumbling with the pen on the counter, but now his fingers are clumsier than usual. You glance up at his face only to find him staring into empty space in front of him. You figure you made him uncomfortable with your oversharing.

“Sorry. That was TMI.”

“No,” he answers quickly. “We share everything. I told you when I threw up on Seungkwan’s lap and cried because I felt bad, didn’t I?” You smile at the reminder and nod. He finally meets your eyes again. “I was just thinking, you know.”

“What about?”

Vernon’s mind is the most fascinating thing to you. The way he thinks is so out of the box and different, and so beautiful. He has shown you the lyrics he writes for his friend Jihoon sometimes, and they’re so poetic you find yourself turning them over in your mind for days afterward. And the best part about it is that he always answers you when you ask what’s going on inside his head. He grants you access to his thoughts and feelings, and it’s the greatest gift you’ve ever received.

“Well. I don’t know if this is going to come off as creepy or not,” he warns, “but I was thinking like… Maybe you should just get it over with.”

“Get what over with?” Your eyebrow rises as you ask the question, and his furrow in response.

“I just mean that you could know how to give a good blowjob, if you wanted to. You could just… pick someone to sleep with. And ask them to teach you. You know?”

“Nonnie,” you start, and your bewildered tone makes him shrink a little. “You really believe the best of people, don’t you?”

“Well- I mean yes, but I didn't mean you should just sleep with anyone. You could just pick someone you already know.”

His words give you pause. You have plenty of friends in possession of a penis, but the thought of sleeping with most of them feels kinda gross. The one exception is… Well, Vernon. And you sincerely doubt that he is offering himself up. So you do what you always do and make a joke to force your mind away from the thought of sucking on your friend’s dick until he cums for you.

“What, are you offering?”

“I mean, yeah,” he shrugs.

You stop breathing. He is actually, genuinely offering to teach you how to suck dick. More specifically, his dick. The one that has been the star of many of your more illicit fantasies. You want to say yes so badly, want to finally get the experience of being something more to him, but you also don’t want to get ahead of yourself. But…

The room is silent while you’re thinking. You feel his eyes on the side of your face, feel the way he’s cataloging every emotion that overtakes your features, and you swallow harshly. Your heart is beating out of your chest and your hands are shaking, and your brain is running a mile a minute with no end in sight.

Then Vernon places his hand on your thigh. His touch is warm but light, ready to pull away as soon as you want him to, but it’s enough to bring your soul back into your body and get a grasp on your thoughts and feelings. You bite your lower lip and breathe in deeply before letting it go. Yeah, you’re doing this.

“I uh, I’m going to need some guidance,” you say, and you almost miss the way your friend’s eyes widen at your words.

“O-Of course. And if you want to stop at any time, just like, tell me, yeah?”

You smile at the comfort his words bring you. “Yeah.”

There is silence once again, but this one is heavy with a different kind of tension. You both know what’s happening, but you don’t know what your next move should be. Technically, you should be working and saving any… other activities for your own free time, but you don’t think waiting is something you’re capable of at this point.

He is the one to make the first move, placing his half-empty mug on the counter and placing himself between your legs. His hands find a place on your waist, bunching the fabric of your shirt slightly. Sitting on the counter means you’re a little bit taller than he is, but you really don’t mind it. He holds your gaze for a few seconds before his left hand lifts to cup your face.

“Are you okay with kissing?” His voice is a bit deeper than normal, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t make heat pool between your legs. “I understand if not, but-”

You interrupt him with a gentle kiss. His lips are pillowy against yours, smooth and plump. You thank your past self for bullying him into using chapstick, because you can honestly say that this might be your favorite kiss ever.

Vernon’s hand moves from your jaw to rake through your hair, and you moan a little when his fingers catch a little in the back. He responds by stepping even closer to you and sliding his entire arm around your back, your chest pressing against his deliciously. The only thought going through your mind is the fact that you are kissing your favorite coworker, and how you really, really want to bury his cock in your throat.

He chases after you when you pull away slightly to catch your breath, and you don’t even mind that the oxygen deprivation is making you dizzy. You slump against him a little when he tugs on your hair again, and you move to return the favor. As soon as you pull on the hair at the back of his neck, he forces himself to pull away and gulp down some air.

His eyes are glazed over, his lips slick with a mix of your and his saliva, and his chest is rising and falling where it’s pressed against yours. It's painfully attractive. He rasps out a quiet groan and leans his forehead against yours. You love the feeling of his harsh breaths hitting your face and answer back with your own.

You feel like you’re in a bubble, because the world around you feels muted and time feels like it has stopped moving. You wouldn’t be surprised if the earth had stopped spinning.

“Sorry,” he breathes. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and inhales your scent. “I just really wanted to do that.”

“Stop apologizing,” you respond, bringing your hand onto his head to scratch at his scalp. “I liked it. Maybe a bit too much.”

Your words bring a whine out of Vernon, and he squeezes you tighter. You’re still on top of the counter, but you can feel his bulge against the inside of your thigh. It twitches against you every time you tug at the ends of his hair, and it makes you smile.

One of your hands snakes down and cups him through his jeans. He reacts strongly despite the thick material separating you. His willingness to show you how good you make him feel make you fall for him all over again. As if he wasn’t already perfect enough.

“Y/N,” he gulps when you move your hand against him, “we’re taking this at your pace, and I can go as slowly as you want to, but I think I might go insane if I don’t get these pants off.”

You giggle breathlessly as you pull away from him, and he forces himself to take a step back from you. You lean back on your hands, your knees still spread from where he was standing previously. He’s distracted for a few seconds before he finally remembers to unbutton his jeans and tugs them down his legs.

The bulge had been apparent through the jeans, but you can truly tell how hard he is when they come off. The way he twitches in his boxers is so obvious you almost feel bad for him. You decide it’s time you follow through and receive your lesson.

You hop off the counter and slide onto your knees in front of him. It’s unfair how attractive he is even from this angle, you think, and slide your hands up his thighs. You’ve given handjobs before, so it’s not exactly your first time touching a dick, but the goal is different now. This time, your hands are just the warmup and not the main event. You’re just hoping you can bring him some sort of pleasure in spite of your inexperience.

“Tell me how to start,” you whisper up at him. He blinks a few times at the sight of you before sucking in a deep breath.

“Yeah,” he rasps. His throat is already dry with anticipation. “I uh, I mean everyone is different when it comes to this stuff, so uh-”

“Just teach me what you like, Nonnie.” Your hands are massaging his thighs, nails digging into his skin every now and then. Whenever they do, you can feel him shudder.

“O-Oh, okay,” he breathes, sounding broken already. “I prefer skipping the handjob first, I guess. I really l-like the feeling of licking, especially at the tip, and uh-” He is becoming redder by the second. “One step at a time. Uhm, start by removing my boxers.”

You nod obediently and slide your hands up to his lower tummy, watching the expressions of pleasure as they take over his face. You assume you will never get to do this again, so you do your best to burn it all into your mind for later use on lonely nights spent with your vibrator. He shudders again when your nails scratch his skin lightly. Your fingers curl around the hem of his underwear and tug.

His cock is beautiful. It’s pretty long, curving slightly towards his stomach, and the tip of it is a perfect shade of peach. Your mouth waters at the thought of getting to taste it, and you eye the drop of precum spilling from the tip. You gently shuffle closer, but he stops you.

“Sorry, you’re fine, I just need something to lean against,” he explains when you look at him in fear of having done something wrong. He maneuvers you both so that he’s leaning against the counter you were sitting on not five minutes ago, and you’re in front of him.

“What now, Nonnie?” you ask, his eyes shutting and chest expanding to accommodate a deep breath.

“You should probably just uh, stroke me a few times first. Then uhm, then you can do whatever you want.” You blink at him a few times, trying to indicate that he’s supposed to be teaching you how to do this. For once, he gets the hint. “Like I said, I uh, like licking. When you take me in you just have to make sure not to like, bite me. Other than that, you can take it at your own speed and depth - for your comfort, of course, but I’m also not picky.”

You admire the flush decorating his cheeks and neck. He looks so good like this, towering over you and looking at you like you hold the answer to his ultimate pleasure. You try to convince yourself that you do, that you will be able to listen and follow his guidance well enough that this will feel good for him. You decide that you will.

Raising your right hand, you grip him tightly in your fist. It makes him suck in a breath, and you feel the muscles in his thighs tense up. You pump him a few times, going slow and using his precum as lube. It’s not enough, of course, but you will move on soon.

“Fuck…” he heaves, leaning back onto the counter even more. He looks into your eyes and swears again. “Please, sweetheart, as soon as you’re ready, I-I want-”

You cut him off by pressing your tongue against the head of his dick. The flavor is salty and a little bit bitter, but it tastes like heaven. Your eyes briefly slip closed as you continue kitten-licking at his slit, and he lets out a winy moan. You open your eyes and look at him, only to find him with his head tilted back to look at the ceiling.

“How is this?” you pause to ask, continuing before he’s had time to answer.

“Good, baby,” Vernon answers through his labored breathing. “So, so good. Keep going, you’re doing great.”

The praise bolsters your confidence, and you give a long lick from his base to his tip. The motion makes him moan again, so you repeat it a few more times. In no time at all, his cock is covered in a mixture of your saliva and his own precum. You decide it’s time to try and take him in your mouth - both because you’ve teased him enough, but you’re also too impatient to wait anymore.

His tip breaches the heat of your mouth , and you find you have to open your jaw quite a bit to accommodate him. A punched out groan leaves him, and one of his hands comes down to tangle in your hair. When a strand of it falls in front of your face, he gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail at the back of your head.

You love the weight of him on your tongue, and dare to sink down a bit lower. He hits the top of your mouth. You gag around him, and he gently pulls you off of him to check on you.

“You okay? You don’t have to keep going,” he reminds you. It only serves to make you more determined to make him cum down the back of your throat.

“What can I do better?” you ask while stroking him in your hand. You still want to improve.

“Honestly?” he wheezes, his hips jumping of their own accord. “You’re doing great.” You glare a bit at him, and he smiles down at you apologetically. “Sorry. But you are doing great. Maybe try sucking a bit more? Not just placing me in your mouth.”

You nod and sink right back down on him. His noises of pleasure are never-ending, and they only increase in volume as well as frequency once you properly suck around him. You bob up and down on him, his hand clenching in your hair as he’s doing his best not to fuck your throat. You’re making it pretty hard.

“Please, baby, I’m gonna fucking- Where do you want me to cum?”

His voice is hoarse and strained, and his grip on your hair has grown so tight it’s stinging your scalp. You savor the pain and rub your thighs together, mewling around him. You grip his ass and push deeper to signal for him to cum in your mouth, and it’s not a second too soon because he immediately spills his seed into you.

Vernon cums so much that some spills out onto your chin, but you diligently swallow what you can. He tries to keep his eyes on you, but his vision quite literally whites out as he reaches his high, so his eyes screw shut without his permission. You, on the other hand, couldn’t tear your gaze from him if you tried. He’s beautiful when he cums, his eyebrows scrunched in what almost looks like pain and his jaw slack in awe. His thighs tremble, and you’re glad he’s leaning against the counter so he doesn’t collapse onto the floor.

“Fuck, how are you so good at this,” he heaves out when his vision returns. You just smirk up at him, some of his cum still covering your chin and lips.

“I had a good teacher,” you tease back. Your voice is raspy after bobbing on his cock, and he finds it painfully attractive.

He notices the way you clench your thighs together and realizes you’re still on the floor. He’s quick to bend down and help you to your feet. As soon as you’re in front of him, he’s kissing you. He doesn’t care about the cum transferring from your chin to his, nor the fact that his softening dick is still out in the open; all he can think about is that he wants to pay you back for what you just did for him.

“Nonnie,” you breathe between kisses, and instead of pulling away it makes him kiss you harder, faster, deeper. He loves when you call him that. He reluctantly pulls away when you push gently against his chest, though. “We should finish the-”

“I need to eat you out, baby. Please, please let me.” His interruption surprises you, and so does his suggestion. He must see your confusion, because he quickly clears things up for you. “I want to, because I like you so much. I promise to ask you to be my girlfriend after this, but please, let me eat you out first.”

“Okay, but Nonnie-” you say, but he interrupts you with a passionate kiss as he mumbles thanks against your lips. “Nonnie.” He sighs and pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. He closes his eyes to stop himself from jumping you again, and you smile. “I’ll say yes right now. I want to be your girlfriend. Is that okay?”

He kisses you so deeply you lose track of where he starts and you end, but you’re just so glad to be kissing him again you probably couldn’t have figured it out anyway. You don’t talk much more that evening, and you definitely don’t get home before midnight, but at least you go home and fall into bed together. Maybe his inattentiveness was a blessing, after all.

masterlist

a/n: don't forget to like and reblog if you enjoyed this post! <3

#seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #svt vernon #vernon x reader #vernon smut #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fic #svt fic #svt fanfic #kpop fic #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #sescoups writes

[little-diable]

Drunken Minds Sober Hearts - Dean Winchester (smut)

We love a good friends to lovers fic, especially with Dean, don't we? Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Drunk off her face the reader told Dean, her best friend, that she hasn't slept with anybody because she wants him to be her first. But will she admit to that when she's sober too?

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, loss of virginity, outdoor, oral (f), friends to lovers

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (about 2k words)

The cold breeze teased her arms, leaving (y/n) shuddering with her back pressed to the blanket and her eyes focused up ahead. Even though Dean emanated enough warmth to make her feel his closeness, deep down she knew that she wasn’t trembling like a leaf because of the cold, but because of the awfully intimate touch this moment had to it.

No words were spoken between the two as they kept staring at the night sky, trying to count the stars that were twinkling for them only—or at least that’s what it felt like. She felt Dean’s hand close to hers, about to touch, about to interlace their fingers, and yet neither of them dared to cross the distance between them just yet.

Dean had asked her hours ago if she trusted him and if he could take her somewhere to distract them from past hunts and exhausting weeks. And who was she to say no to Dean Winchester—her best friend, her better half, her one true love—even though he knew nothing of the feelings she harbored for him.

“There’s something I wanted to ask you.” Dean cleared his throat, letting his head roll towards her as he spoke. She didn’t reply, only looked at him as she waited for him to continue.

“I don’t think you remember much of Saturday night. But you said something to me, something I can’t stop thinking of.” Heat rose to her face as Dean’s words began to sink in. Saturday night hadn’t been her proudest moment; with too many shots poured down her throat, she had eventually lost control, blabbering away things she now couldn’t remember.

“Is it true that you haven’t allowed anybody to touch you because you want me to be your first?” She choked on her breath, having to sit up to try and let some air flood through her aching lungs. Her body was burning up in embarrassment while she made a silent promise to never drink again. She felt Dean’s hand on her back, softly rubbing circles on the fabric of her sweater as she tried to calm down.

“Did I really say that?” (Y/n) couldn’t look at her best friend and was trying to figure out how she could get the ground to open up and swallow her whole. But before she could even begin to plan her escape, Dean’s hand had found her chin, tilting it up for her to look at him.

“Hey, that’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” Her words got stuck in her throat as Dean’s thumb found her mouth, carefully pulling her lower lip from the grasp her teeth had on the thin skin. Both looked at one another as if they could read each other’s minds, deciphering every emotion flushing through their systems, emotions that urged their movements as Dean’s lips found hers.

Dean didn’t allow her to break away as he pulled her into his lap, slowly feeling (y/n) relax in his grasp. Her arms found their way around his neck, getting lost in a kiss both had only imagined but never dared to speak of. The kiss was slow, allowing both to adjust to the sensation and yet it was urged on by their longings and fears, by whatever had managed to hold them back for the past years. 

“I need you to be honest with me, sweetheart. Was it the truth?” Dean murmured his words against her slightly swollen lips. His hands kept a tight grasp on her, fingertips running along the seam of her sweatshirt, about to disappear beneath the thick fabric. 

“It is the truth, and I’m sorry for drunkenly dumping that on you.” She tried to look away, tried to focus on anything but Dean, but the hunter’s grasp only grew tighter, not daring to let her go. Another kiss was pressed against her lips, a kiss that drew a soft moan from (y/n), a sound that gave Dean the needed push to flip them around. Their eyes held contact as Dean hovered over her, admiring every part of her frame. 

“We shouldn’t do this out here, you deserve a bed, something comfortable.” The concern dripping from Dean’s words left (y/n) chuckling, she pulled him back down for a kiss, and let her legs wrap around his waist to feel his growing erection against her covered heat. Both moaned in unison from the new friction this movement offered, a sensation so addicting, (y/n) knew there was no way to ever let go of Dean again. 

“I don’t need a bed, Dean. I just want you, and to be honest, something boring isn’t our style anyway, is it?” His chuckles vibrated through her body as Dean kissed his way down her throat, letting his hands pull her sweater up to her chest. The groan that clawed through him was raspier than any sound she had heard before, allowing her eyes to wander over his handsome features while his eyes focused on her naked, braless chest. 

“You’re fucking beautiful, (y/n).” No longer did she feel the cold breeze stroking her, no longer did she pick up on the whispers warning her of the way she’d lose herself tonight. All (y/n) could focus on was Dean, the man who had always owned her heart, the man she’d give her life for. 

(Y/n)’s head rolled back as his lips found her naked chest, sucking on one hardening nub while his free fingers took care of the other. Dean wanted to comment on how perfectly she fit into his hands, how it felt as if she had been created for him only, but his words got stuck in his throat as his middle moved against hers again, creating just enough friction for the both of them. 

“Can I taste you? Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that for years.” Dean’s whispers left (y/n) choking on her gasps, unable to reply with any words. All she could do was shoot him an eager nod while raising her hips for Dean to pull her jeans down her legs. Once again, a growl managed to break out of Dean, a sound that forced (y/n) to drown in the different sensations she was held hostage by. 

“You’re soaked, baby.” The comment drew a whine from (y/n), she had to grasp the blanket, had to find something to hold onto before she’d grow too eager, needing to feel whatever Dean could offer her. 

His warm fingers pushed her soaked panties aside, he gave himself a few moments to study her, hoping that he could burn this very image into his mind – forever remembering it as if he were a blind man being offered his sight back for only a handful of seconds. And for that, he’d always choose (y/n), studying the woman he felt deeply connected to. 

Dean’s tongue brushed against her pulsing bundle, leaving (y/n) moaning. He ate her out with an unfamiliar kind of urgency, offering her a glimpse into what was awaiting her. Heaven – the pearly gates – or simply the love both couldn’t deny any longer.

Whatever it was, it pushed her closer towards Dean, hearts and souls connected. 

“Dean,” (y/n) sobbed his name as he pushed two fingers into her tightness, letting them curl against the swollen spot he instantly managed to find. With her back arched off the blanket, and her thighs quivering, (y/n) forced her eyes back up to the night sky. She needed to focus on something else, keeping herself from giving in way too quickly. 

She had never allowed another man to touch her like this, deep down she had been too stuck on the possibility of Dean loving her, holding onto the thinnest thread of hope that had been close to snapping – a thread that now got woven into a thick rope, unable to ever snap apart. 

Her shaking fingers found his hair, tugging on the roots to draw a raspy groan from Dean, a sound that forced her gaze back down to him. And as they looked at one another, pupils filled with love, adoration, and longing, (y/n) felt herself being pushed over the edge. She came with a cry, had to squeeze her eyes shut to hold onto this feeling, the blinding sensation that had never felt this strong when she had touched herself to the thought of Dean. 

“Jesus, Dean. What even was that?” The sound of his chuckles echoed through the night. He moved up her body to find her lips for a kiss, letting their tongues tangle as she tasted herself on the strong muscle. Her hands disappeared beneath his shirt, feeling his muscles tense beneath her touch. 

“Only the beginning, sweetheart.” He let go of her to undo his belt before reaching for his wallet to pull a condom free. She took it from his grasp while he freed his twitching cock from the confines of his trousers, staring down at (y/n) whose eyes had that special twinkle to them. His heart swelled in his chest at the mere sight of her, grateful that he finally got a chance to express his feelings, to leave his anxiety behind – all so he could love her the way she deserved to be loved. 

Their eyes held contact as she rolled the condom down his aching length with shaking fingers, as she laid back down on the blanket, and as Dean positioned himself at her entrance. 

“Tell me if it hurts too much, I’ll be careful.” (Y/n)’s arm found its way around his neck to pull Dean down for a kiss. The second their lips met, he pushed into her, drawing a pained whimper from her. He held still for a moment, allowing her to adjust before he kept on moving, sinking further into her tightness. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight. You feel so good, baby.” Dean’s gritty voice left her walls clenching around him, wordlessly begging him for more. With his weight shifted onto his forearm, Dean started moving quicker, adding more strength to his thrusts to draw the sweetest moans from (y/n). 

“Don’t stop, don’t ever stop touching me, Dean.” She sobbed her words as her fingernails began leaving crescent shapes on his neck. (Y/n)’s thighs quivered around his waist, she was torn between all different sensations, unsure what to focus on, while her second orgasm was close to flushing through her all too quickly. 

“Touch yourself, make yourself cum on my cock.” His command left (y/n) gasping, forcing her eyes back up towards Dean’s green ones. The smirk playing on his lips was enough to leave her sweating in need while feeling him buried oh so deep inside of her. She rubbed her pulsing bundle with quick movements, set on pushing herself over the edge while Dean fucked her into the blanket. 

“Dean,” his name left her lips like a prayer, in desperate need of guidance, unsure what to do with the massive wave of emotions which were about to flush through her. And with another whine leaving her, (y/n) came for Dean, allowing him to watch her unfold right in front of his eyes. He kept fucking her, didn’t want to give in before he had managed to push her through the intense sensation, only as she relaxed beneath him did Dean finally give in with her name leaving him. 

“Promise to hold onto me forever, Dean.” (Y/n) panted the words with a smile glued to her lips. Her fingers brushed through his hair, desperate to keep on feeling every part of him. 

“Let the stars be my witnesses, I promise to love you till the day I die, sweetheart.”

#Dean Winchester smut #Dean Winchester x reader #Dean Winchester imagine #supernatural

[mokulule]

Dead on MAYn day 2 - untitled so far

Prompt: Jason and Danny abducted by the same cult. No warnings apply.

This was a bad day, was Jason’s first thought as he became aware.

“Oh you’re awake, how are you feeling? That’s a nasty gash on your head,” a voice told him worried.

Jason slowly blinked his eyes into focus. He had the worst headache and when he grimaced he felt something stiff and crusty pull at his skin - dried blood. His arms were tied to a metal pole of sorts behind him which is what had kept him in a kneeling position while unconscious.

A young man slowly came into focus in the dim light. He had dark hair and light eyes, but actual color wasn’t possible to really tell. He was wearing just a simple light t-shirt and shorts, sitting similarly tied to Jason. If he’d been there for any length of time he had to be chilled from the concrete. Jason at least wore sturdy pants which added a bit of insulation.

What had happened?

Jason had been… shopping? Yeah that sounded about right. And then- nothing.

“Hey, please tell me they didn’t knock you entirely senseless?”

Jason focused back on the other… hostage? “What do you know?”

There was a flash of white as he grinned. “I know they came back with you sporting bloodied noses and mr stick up his ass probably have a broken wrist.”

“Who are they?” Jason spoke lowly, looking around, but the room they were in was a basement room only way in was a heavy metal door. Only the barest of light shone through the cracks of an otherwise barred window. There was no one but the two of them.

“Some weirdo cultists.”

Jason must have shown his surprise on his face, because he continued.

“Didn’t expect that, huh?”

“I thought it was just a normal kidnapping.”

“You get kidnapped enough for there to be normal kidnappings?” The man asked eyebrows raising up past his messy bangs.

“Not as such, but my adoptive father is something of a big deal in Gotham so there’s a risk.”

The other thought that over for a moment with a worried frown, before speaking, “I’m sorry you got caught up in this weirdness.”

“And what about you?” Jason asked.

“Me?” He tilted his head.

“You seem remarkably calm about this?”

That earned Jason a chuckle.

“Yeah well you could say it’s not my first rodeo either. I get involved in a shocking amount of weirdness for someone who’s just trying to get a degree.”

He had the sort of smile that invited Jason to share in the joke. Jason gave him a smirk of his own.

“Actually with a degree in Gotham chances are high of becoming a supervillain.”His smile fell as he stared at Jason in shock.

“You’re shitting me.”

Jason shook his head and leaned back against his metal pole, unfolding his legs to get a modicum of comfort.

“Shockingly high amount of PhD’s amongst the rogues,” Jason explained.

That startled a laugh out of the man. He had a nice laugh. “Should have picked another city then I guess.”

“And miss meeting me in some cult’s basement?” The words escaped Jason before he’d even had a chance to consider them, it was just too tempting to banter with this man. Only the sudden silence made him realize he was flirting.

The man tilted his head slightly and gave Jason a thoughtful look. Jason found himself tensing, holding his breath, but then a smile spread slowly over the man’s lips, and Jason could breathe again.

“You know what, you’re right. I’m Danny.”

“Jason.”

“Nice to meet you, Jason.” It was said so honestly, with no hint of joking, words soft like a caress, that Jason’s breath hitched. He scrambled to get his thoughts in order. He didn’t know how to respond.

Thankfully Danny, didn’t seem to need a response.

“Urgh, you know what? Let’s get out of here. I usually stick around to see what nonsense they’re trying to do, but I’m not feeling charitable today.” With that Danny pulled his hands in front of him and pushed himself to his feet - as if nobody had bothered tying him up at all.

The action thankfully pushed Jason back into an analytical mindset. He either had training or- “Powers?”

“A few.” Danny winked at him and to his embarrassment he felt his cheeks heating - so much for the analytical mindset. Danny moved over to start to untie Jason. His hands were cold and Jason’s earlier assumption that he was chilled from the floor seemed proved. He needed to keep his mind on track and not think of the way cool fingers brushed against the insides of his wrists. Without using his powers, as he’d clearly done to get himself free, Danny was not fast.

“You shouldn’t show them off, Gotham has a real problem with traffickers.”

“Not to mention death-cults, which somehow nobody warns you about.” Danny shot right back with a put-upon sigh.

“I’m serious.”

“So am I,” Danny ducked back in front of Jason, “if I had known the amount of supernatural shit going on- well,” Danny shrugged, “I would have probably still taken that scholarship, because beggars can’t be choosers, but I would have had warning.”

Danny went back to untying with a cursed, “idiots really mad at you fighting them, what’s up with all these fucking knots! This might feel weird.”

There was a strange liquid sensation in his wrists and forearms and then he was free. He brought his arms back to his front to inspect the damage. His fingers tingled and throbbed as he flexed them, and he had a bad case of rope burn running from wrists up his forearms. They really hadn’t liked him fighting them indeed. He’d been no where near loosing his hands or fingers, but it had been a risk if he’d been tied up too long.

Not that he’d have let it get that far, he’d have slipped out way beforehand.

Cool hands laid themselves on top of his wrists and gripped him gently. A soothing sort of cool energy seemed to seep into his skin chasing away the pain and numbness and Jason was forced to reevaluate his “chilled” theory. The cold might have to do with his powers.

Jason looked up and Danny’s face was very close. The tips of their noses were inches apart. Danny’s eyes were very blue, the light had to hit them just right right now, it was almost like the glowed.

“You really shouldn’t use your powers so obviously,” he cautioned absently, as his eyes traced the thin barely visible white scars on the left side of Danny’s face; they grew over his skin, organic like vines on a trellis - or like lightning. As if the thought had summoned it, he could suddenly smell ozone, wild, like power rippling under the surface barely held back.

“Are you going to traffic me, Jason?”

For a moment the words didn’t register. He was too busy watching Danny’s lips move. Too caught up in that power he felt. What had Danny said? This wasn’t the first time a cult went for him? A death cult? He didn’t want to stick around to be charitable today? He’d never really been a captive.

What was he?

Danny let go of him as if burned and stepped back. The sense of power disappeared just as suddenly, leaving Jason reeling with the sudden emptiness. He felt as if he’d been dropped into a desert with emptiness stretching for miles in every direction.

“I’m sorry,” Danny said, “I didn’t mean to scare you. Most people don’t-“ He cut himself off.

Jason swallowed, realizing he had been scared, and pushed himself to his feet. He felt wobbly and disoriented, disconnected.

“Most people what?” He demanded, when he finally felt stable on his feet.

Danny looked at him with a worried frown. “Most people don’t feel my power at all. You’re either magic…”

There was an “or” clearly missing. Jason didn’t know why, but he knew he had to know. “Or?”

“This is really not the best place for this,” Danny hedged looking around them with a grimace.

Jason stepped forward and grabbed his arms. The power was back, though more muted than before, like it was hiding behind layers of fabric.

“Or?” He demanded.

Danny looked up at him a strange expression on his face. “Or, you have more than a passing familiarity with death.”

It felt like the ground dropped out from under Jason’s feet, that first rush of air of a fall. Yet, somehow he was still standing. Danny’s hands gripping his arms hard in return was the reason. He gave Jason a small shake and when Jason sorta focused on him, he said, “This is not an empty stomach sort of conversation. Least I know why they grabbed you too. Come on.”

And with those words suddenly they were flying up through the ceiling and the next ceiling and the next, it became a blur until suddenly they were outside in fresh air high above the city. Jason moved his legs in a startled motion, but nothing happened. He was weightless, Danny’s hold on him was light. That cool energy was flowing through him again, but this time it was his whole body.

The view of Gotham stretched out below them, behind them was the harbor, they’d been in one of the many more or less abandoned buildings that dotted the area between harbor and city proper. Too many gun fights broke out in the area over shipments of various illegal items for any legal businesses to want to rent those buildings for any substantial amount of time, which explained how a (death?) cult had set up shop.

Jason was very carefully ignoring the fact that he was flying. It wasn’t the first time he’d flown with someone - those other times however he’d still been able to feel gravity, now he was weightless. The air might as well have been water, though it didn’t press on him.

The view of Gotham was breathtaking from up here. Evening was closing in on a rare day with few clouds for Gotham which meant blue actually peeked through in spots.

Danny sent him a grin and Jason’s stomach did a flip. When Danny moved so he only held Jason’s hand, Jason noticed they were both somewhat see-through.

“Are we invisible?” He asked.

“Sure are, don’t wanna catch unwanted attention.”

With those words Danny flew them through the city until they came to a flat topped roof in view of the Gotham U campus. He set Jason down and held his hand until he was steady on his feet as gravity reasserted itself on his body, like a heavy blanket.

“I know a good burger place nearby.” Danny had said he was a student, with Gotham U in view that supported the claim. Danny continued speaking, “I will return with food, but if you want to leave in the mean time-“ He nodded towards the roof access and gave a shrug- “otherwise I will explain things once we have eaten. Any allergies or dislikes?”

Jason numbly shook his head. Danny faded away like a mirage, leaving Jason with just the view of the old campus buildings.

Jason sat down to wait. Danny had given him an out, but there was no way Jason could let this go. Not just because of his training, but because he needed to know. If Danny knew anything of what had brought Jason back…

Of course it occurred to him that Danny might have just fled himself, it would have been the smart thing to do. He had no obligation to tell Jason anything, Jason was a stranger. But somehow Jason knew Danny wouldn’t have said he’d be coming back if he wasn’t.

Jason’s gut feeling was ratified when Danny returned about 20 minutes later, brandishing a large paper bag and two milkshakes as he turned visible. Somehow Jason had felt he was there just a moment before he turned into visibility, like a prickle on his skin - it was something to examine later.

Danny had brought them both cheeseburgers and fries. The burgers were juicy and the fries crisp and spiced. Jason felt more real, more himself with hot food in his belly. Danny had given him the choice between the cherry or the pistachio milkshake as he set down beside Jason. He had chosen the cherry - it was good. With those flavor options he had to wonder what more options they had.

When their impromptu rooftop picnic was done, aside from the last of their milkshakes. Jason’s eye were drawn to Danny’s calloused hands, where they fiddled nervously with the straw.

Something was building, there was a grim set to Danny mouth and Jason was suddenly uncertain if he really wanted an explanation at all. Danny had powers that Jason could feel because they were death related, so what? That was an explanation of a sort already.

“I died when I was fourteen.”

The statement was like a punch to the gut, and Jason felt just as breathless. He snapped his head to Danny, about to tell him that he really didn’t have to tell him that, but Danny held up a hand. He met Jason’s eyes squarely, somehow conveying that it was okay, that he wanted to share this.

“An interdimensional portal opened up right on top of me, killing me, but all that energy also revived me, killed me again and revived me over an over…” His eyes slid from Jason to the skyline haunted and empty. He clenched his fists and took a deep breath, then looked to Jason again. “It left me somewhere in the middle, both dead and alive and neither all at the same time.”

Jason didn’t know what to say. The weight of the trust Danny was showing him by telling him about his death, was heavy like an anchor rooting him to the spot.

“These days,” Danny continued in a lighter tone, “I consider myself something of a bridge between the spirit and the living world. I help where I can in between trying to live and I get to be kidnapped by death cults because of my energy.” Danny shrugged carelessly, but the pinched eyebrows gave away how anxious he was about Jason’s reaction.

It was honestly not the strangest story Jason had ever heard. The world was a strange place what was one more addition to the tapestry that was Jason’s life? A thought occured to him. He carefully looked out over the city - the sunset painted the sky red in between the skyscrapers - and steeled his voice neutral.

“A bridge huh? Between the physical and the spirit world…”

“Yeah.”

“Do you also master all four elements?”

“No, mostly just ice- wait a moment,” Danny’s head snapped to face him as he caught on to the Avatar joke and he promptly punched his shoulder.

Jason laughed.

“It is not funny!” Danny insisted, yet he had to cover his mouth to muffle the laughter that wanted to escape. For a moment his shoulders quaked in silence but then he gave in and laughed.

“Fuck you, Jason, I was trying to handle this conversation respectful of the heavy subject.” Then almost as afterthought he muttered, “Ancients, I never thought of it like that.”

He leaned all the way back until he was lying on the roof, looking up to the sky. Jason followed suit.

“I don’t want to talk about my death,” Jason admitted.

“That’s alright. It’s not the sort of thing you ask a spirit to share, it has to be freely given.”

Jason turned his head to look at Danny.

“Is that what I am? A spirit?”

“I’m not entirely sure, I’ve never met anyone like you before.”

Jason should probably ask him to elaborate, milk him for all the information he had. Danny was a being with still unknown powers in Gotham, Bruce would be unbearable if he learned. But Danny didn’t feel like a threat to him and Jason was tired of asking questions.

From next to him he heard a sigh.

“For a moment back there,” Danny started a wistful note in his voice, “I actually thought I might be getting lucky tonight.”

Jason snorted at the unexpected subject change. He hesitated for a moment, but then threw caution to the wind. “Who says you aren’t?”

Danny sat up so fast he jumped a foot off the ground - he didn’t even seem to notice the fact he was still hovering as he turned around in the air to face him hovering above him. “You gotta be yanking my tail! After all this?”

Jason shrugged, deliberately moving his arms a bit higher where they pillowed his head. He smirked, delighted at the way Danny’s eyes were drawn to the sliver of skin revealed as his shirt drew up.

“I, uh-“

Something occurred to Jason. “Do you have a tail to yank?”

This time it was Danny’s turn to smirk, his teeth were distinctly sharper than they had been a moment ago. Jason’s mouth went dry.

“Sometimes, when I want to.”

Jason had almost forgotten what question he had asked. When it sunk in he blushed at the implication he could change his shape. Trying to regain his composure, he teased, “So it’s a deliberate choice to be a skinny twink?”

Danny flicked his nose for that. “No, this is just me. My low energy state if you want.” He paused for a moment considering then added teasingly, “I can’t change my shape much in human form.”

“Human form?” Jason asked curiously.

Danny hummed, and reached out slowly, leaving plenty of time for Jason to move away. He didn’t. He did shudder though, when cold fingers brushed his cheek and trailed down his throat. He could feel the power held in check, a tsunami behind a dam. Holding Danny’s eyes he tilted his head back to give him more room.

Danny sucked in a breath. His eyes darkened and Jason felt the power ripple.

“Maybe I’ll show you,” Danny said slowly, “if you’re very good.”

Jason swallowed. Yeah, he could be good. He could be very good.

When Danny kissed him, Jason thought this hadn’t been too bad a day after all. Even despite the weirdness, Jason would take it. And the night? The night was shaping up to be all the better.

Bonus:

“What the Hell, Jason!”Jason startled awake at Dick’s outburst from behind him.

“You couldn’t have called us to say you were alright? I know you have more than the one phone!” Dick continued his tirade.

Danny was as awake as Jason and looked up at him with wide eyes from where he was conveniently hidden by Jason’s larger frame. Jason resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Wing,” he said tiredly as he worked to disentangle himself from Danny and turn around, but Dick didn’t even hear. He was pacing back and forth, very much not done with his rant.

“Nooooo, you get grabbed on open street and we get to find some weird cult, with a huge magic circle and strange bubbling liquids, and they have your wallet and phone - and your tracker. I can’t believe you didn’t bother to get it when you escaped!”

“Wing,” Jason tried again.

“Of all the-“

“Nightwing!” Jason said firmly with great emphasis on the call sign.

Dick spun to look at him finally. He did a double take when he saw Danny peeking over Jason’s shoulder with wide eyes.

“Danny, meet my friend Nightwing, we go back a long time. Like I mentioned, my dad being who he is, kidnapping is a risk and you meet people this way.” Jason gave Dick a telling glare and his mouth clicked shut, message obviously delivered: Jason was not compromised but he sure would be if Dick kept blabbering.

“Wing, this is Danny, my co-would-be-sacrifice. He’s a regular Houdini with rope and locked doors, he got us out.”

“Hi,” Danny said hesitantly raising a hand in a little wave.

Dick rubbed his face. “You could have called.”

“I was busy.”

“I can see that! Just-” Dick threw up his hands and walked to the window he’d entered through, “call your dad before you get busy again, he’s worried.”

He left through the window and didn’t even bother to close it, dick. Jason turned to look at Danny, he was beet red.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, “I didn’t even consider they might have taken your things.”

“They didn’t take yours?” They mustn’t have, Danny had gotten them food.

“I- um,” Danny grimaced then admitted, “I store my phone and wallet in my thigh for the most part.”

For a moment Jason stared, then he burst out laughing. Danny slapped his chest.

“It’s not that funny!”

But really it was, especially because of the way Danny pouted. He leaned down to kiss the pout away but Danny stopped him with a hand over his mouth.

“No, you go call your dad so we don’t get more surprise visitors.”

- Hope you enjoyed! If I get the time I want to write a small sequel for one of the last days, but I haven't started yet so we'll see.

#deadonmayn24 #dp x dc #dead on main

[beenbaanbuun]

brainless w/ song mingi

everything seems like a lot. sure, it was your idea to come to the mall in the first place, hoping the dizzying array of stimulants would keep your mind away from the tangled up we’d of thoughts within it, but now you just regret it. now you’re just looking for anything else to cling onto; you guess you’re looking for stability more than anything. it’s a good thing you brought your boyfriend with you.

your fingers loosen from the flimsy fabric of the dress you’d taken a shine to, dropping it miserably before turning around to face mingi. his zoned out eyes focus on the the moment your stoic face comes into his line of vision, and without so much of a moments hesitation, he turns his phone off and slips it into his pocket. he might be a little dopey with more than a few things, but making you feel seen isn’t one of them.

“what’s up, princess?” he smiles down at you, his eyes crinkling up as he smiles softly at you. it relaxes you every so slightly, but not enough to completely block out the incessant chatter from every angle, or the fluorescents that burn your retinas painfully. you sigh and take a pathetic step towards him. he wastes no time in opening his arms to invite you into his hold, and for some reason it makes your throat tighten.

“i feel bad,” you admit as you close the gap and dive into his warmth. you can feel his body heat through his thin tshirt, and even in the sweltering heat that has your clothes sticking to you uncomfortably, you can’t help but lean into the familiarity it gives you. as your nose nuzzles into the black fabric, a hand comes up to cup the back of your skull. you swallow thickly to quell the tears that threaten to spill.

now isn’t the time for that.

there’s a rumble in his chest as he hums contemplatively. it’s deep and gravelly, yet somehow still filled with a softness that you’ve come to associate with only your boyfriend. it’s like the soft curl of cigarette smoke, except without the pungent odour. the velvety texture of flower petals, without the threat of the thorny stems. the gentle lap of the ocean against the shore, without the threat of the undercurrent to drag you to your doom. in life, most beautiful things only exist to distract from danger, but not your mingi.

“what kind of bad?” he murmurs, minty cold breath brushing against your face in a way that has you relaxing further into his touch. you always have loved the smell of that menthol gum he chews; he claims it stops ‘the cravings’, although for what, you’re not sure. the poor man had coughed for minutes the last time he’d taken a drunken drag from his friends cigarette. “is it ‘hide from the world’ kind of bad?” yes, you think to yourself, that one. the type of bad that leads you to curling up under your bedsheets for hours on end, eating snacks depressedly from mingi’s fingers. you almost nod, but you sense he has more to say. you hang back, staring up at him as he wets his lips with a single swipe of his pink tongue. “or is it ‘let your mingi take care of you’ kind of bad?”

oh.

you seem to melt further into his touch at the mere mention of ‘letting your mingi take care of you’. it’s code for something much deeper; a ritual that only you and mingi know of. it’s sacred to your relationship, it has been from the moment the two of you stumbled across the nature of said ritual.

yes, you change your mind, you want that one.

and so you nod helplessly against his chest, eyes widening and going ever so slightly glassy at the mere thought of letting your mingi take care of you. you almost miss the way the corner of his mouth tilts up into a small smile, too focussed on watching the way his eyes glimmer with excitement. it’s as if he enjoys it as much as you do, in fact you’re almost sure he enjoys it more. something about this whole thing just seems to stroke that huge ego that seems to come hand in hand with having a cock. if you weren’t so desperate for him to turn that ego on you now, perhaps you’d roll your eyes and scoff at him.

“no good, princess,” he purrs, pulling the hand from the back of your head around to rest on your cheek. his thumb comes to rest on your lips, tugging at your lips to smear your lipgloss outside the lines you yourself had drawn on with your trusty lipliner. a quick glance around was enough to tell mingi that the coast was clear, or at least for long enough for him to dip the tip of his thumb into the warm confines of your achingly empty maw. it tugs at your bottom lip softly before pulling itself free with a gentle pop. he taps it once, twice against your mouth before pulling his hand away entirely. “i need your words, don’t i?”

the keen that his question pulls from your throat has him chuckling lowly. you watch as his cheek distends, giving way to the tongue that cockily probes the inside of it. he knows the effect it has on you, having watched you melt from just his egotistical gestures plenty of times in the past. as your eyes glaze over a little, it seems to have worked yet again.

“mingi,” you whine, voicing echoing through your mind as though it belongs to someone else entirely. you seem to have slipped quicker than usual into that familiar headspace that soothed you so much, which would’ve had you curious had your thoughts been anywhere other than the man in front of you. it’s not all gone just yet, but you can feel the remnants of your braincells slipping further and further out of your grasp by the second. you take in a shudders breath, “please mingi… take care of me?”

and how could he say no to that? he can practically see each thought slip from you one by one as your mind shrinks to nothing. he can see your tunnel vision forming around him, and your tongue get too heavy to speak any word other than his name. it’s such a beautiful sight, tugging at his heartstring each and every time he watches it happen. his pretty darling, brainless and his.

“of course, baby,” he ghosts a hand over your hair, giggling as you lean into his touch. even in public, you’re so shamelessly needy for him. it’s adorable, really, the way you so easily fold for him. he gives in, probably easier than he normally would, a single finger running along your cheekbone to gather hair to place behind your ear.

you purr up at him, and he matches it with a low, throaty hum of his own. “collar,” you manage to say through your haze, watery eyes looking up at him expectantly.

“when we get home,” he replies. it breaks his heart to see the pout of your lips, but creative problems require creative solutions. if you couldn’t have your collar just yet, he’s give you something else to ground you.

with one hand still playing with your hair, he lifts the other to his mouth, parting his lips just enough for his teeth to show. the hook over the heavy ring on his index finger, tugging on the jewelled metal until it rolls off the digit and onto his tongue. he appreciates the weight of it for just a second before once more scanning the shop floor for any potential voyeurs. no one, he gleefully notes before leaning down to your height and pressing his lips against yours in a soft kiss.

mere moments pass before you feel the cold touch of metal against your lips, and you open your mouth just enough for his tongue to force the through the gap provided by you. it drops weightily onto your awaiting muscle, pinning it heavily to the bottom of your mouth. it feels like lead against it, and you can’t lie and say that you’re not happy with the way it feels.

mingi pulls away slowly, eyes fluttering open to meet your own, hazy and completely thoughtless, just like you’d wanted. his gaze flickers quickly to your throat, watching the way moves as you swallow, before moving immediately back to your face. he admires the way your jaw moves as you fiddle with the ring in your mouth, watching in real time as the tense muscles in your face relax completely. he’s glad to see you happy, he muses to himself as he takes a step away from you and grabs your hand.

he can’t wait until he’s home and he can help you so much more…

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #mingi x reader #mingi hard hours

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi!! If you know the reference where the person A says the moon is beautiful without noticing the Person B saying yes beautiful while staring at Person A (//∇//) can I have that with the batboys? I know it’s corny lol thank you!

I hope this was what you envisioned but idk.

‘The moon is beautiful tonight.’ You said.

Jason who’s eyes never left you for a single second, seeing no point in staring at anything else when everything he’s ever wanted was right next to him, smiled at your need to bring attention to the beauty of other things others may walk right past by without a second thought.

‘The moons always has been beautiful, and it will only grow more beautiful as time continues.’ He replied.

You looked over at him, only to see that he was staring at you fondly and with a dopey smile spread across his lips, and immeditly felt very exposed by the way he looked at you as though you had intricately hung the very moon and stars above by hand. It was a look you weren’t use to being on the receiving end of -having only heard of similar looks being talked about in books or seen in movies- but now that you were you were at a loss on what to say or do.

‘You really mean that?’ You asked, finding a loose bit of fabric on your clothing extremely interesting all of a sudden.

‘I’d gladly say it a million times over if it makes it more easily believed.’ Jason said as he moved closer to you until your shoulders were touching, he then gently grabbed your hand away from fiddling the loose bit of fabric of your shirt and intertwined your fingers together, not once had his eyes left your person the entire time.

You smiled at him as you leaned yourself into him, leeching off of his warmth as you tried to go back to looking at the moon, but found it hard once you were made aware of the fact that Jason was staring directly at you as though he found something much more interesting to focus all of his attention on. ‘It’s hard to not believe it when your eyes look at me like that.’ You told him.

Jason tilts his head. ‘Like what sweetheart?’

‘Like I’m special.’ You replied.

Jason then chuckles before kissing the top of your head softly as he then rests his head against the side of yours. ‘I could write an entire essay on how special you are to me and still it wouldn’t be enough, so yeah you are special, more than you could possibly imagine.’

Dick smiled as he propped up his head in his hands as he watched how the moonlight practically illuminated you in your entirety.

It was almost as if a spotlight had shone down on you, making Dick unable to look elsewhere but you and that gorgeous smile that blossomed across your face, not that he needed to be forced to look at you when he could be doing so for the rest of his life if he was allowed that simple luxury.

‘The moon sure is beautiful indeed, can barely take my eyes off them.’ Dick said softly in response.

You then looked over at Dick, only to see him looking at you in a way that made your heart flutter and your face become warm. ‘You can stop looking at me now.’ You tell him.

Dick leaned against the railing with a cheeky smile. ‘Why? I was enjoying the view.’ He replied.

‘Oh so I’m the view now?’ You asked, putting your hands on your hips.

‘You always were the view babe,’ Dick said, ‘a view so beautiful I could barely take my eyes off of and I’m lucky enough to get to see it as often as I do.’ He adds as he pushed himself off the railing and walked towards you and held you by the arms.

‘You’re a sap.’ You laughed, feeling your cheeks grow even warmer.

Dick watched as you laughed and took the time to mentally engrave this moment to his memory, from the way your mouth opened to laugh, to the way your whole face practically light up and the way you stood out amongst the rest of the bright, vibrant lights. ‘Yeah but I’m your sap.’ He retorted as he held you against his chest as you both soaking in the moonlight together, all the while only ever looking at one another.

Tim

Was speechless, the words he had preplanned earlier within the day to say to you had long left him as he could only admire you as you basked in the moonlight and looking ethereal amidst the artificial city lights.

This was a state he often found himself in whenever you were just standing there and it was a little embarrassing for him because it only made him think of how obvious he had been about his feelings this entire time. However he couldn’t exactly blame you for being the epitome of perfection and beauty simply just by existing, Tim didn’t know it could be possible to feel this strongly about someone but here he was, unable to speak his mind in your presence without admiring your every feature as though he was seeing you for the first time again.

You furrowed your brows when you didn’t hear Tim say anything, becoming worried that he might’ve passed out from the lack of sleep he’s had recently and went to look over at him, only to see him looking at you with a wide eyed expression and flushed cheeks.

‘Tim, are you okay?’ You asked, moving towards him.

‘The moon is extremely beautiful tonight yes, even when they are within close proximity.’ Tim blurted out and you stopped when it hit you that he wasn’t talking about the moon, but more so about you and now you were both stood in silence and extremely flustered.

‘That’s, that’s really sweet of you Tim.’ You said, breaking the prolonged silence between the two of you as you felt butterflies within your stomach and a warmth spread throughout your chest.

‘It’s- I was only speaking the truth.’ Tim scratched the back of his head as he looked away from you for a split second before looking back at you, gauging your reaction as a positive one and took the chance to shuffle closer to you.

Tim had been in dangerous situations before but being this close to you, sharing a heartfelt moment between the two of you was enough to have him unable to think properly, his emotions were running rampant within him as his heart was unable to remain at a steady and consistent pace the more he was near you to the point he couldn’t help but be hyper aware of it.

‘Well I appreciate you being truthful,’ you tell him, flashing him a smile that almost ended him with how sweet, kind and loving it was, ‘it’s one of the many things I like about you Tim.’ You add as you then rested your head on his shoulder as poor Tim could only stand there stiff as a bored, but that didn’t matter as a smile grew across his lips and rested his head atop of yours, not wanting to say anything else incase it ruined the perfect mood.

#dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc fanfic #dc fic #dc comics x reader #dc x y/n #dc fanfiction #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagines #dick grayson x you #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson imagines #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson fluff #tim drake x you #tim drake x reader #tim drake imagine #Tim drake imagines #nightwing fluff #nightwing imagines #nightwing imagine #nightwing x reader #red hood x you #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood imagines

[sonnyaavce]

CHAPTER # 0

The first meeting that was supposed to be drafted ended up being chaotic once everyone went to the watchtower. Some JL members as well some of the Dark that weren’t supposed to be around in base were quickly debriefed in the mission and found the current sight a bit amusing as they saw the small child spirit in one of the main leagues arms deep asleep and purring like a cat calmly.

Flash did indeed found it a bit cute at first but now it was just hilarious that Wonder Woman; who was known to be a fierce Amazonian, the one who hated male human contact would end up being demoted as a motherly figure by the small spectre and ‘wow’ wasn’t that a kicker, that ghost and spirits are real in the end? 

Now, don’t get him wrong but Barry is a scientist by hearth and a firm non believer in anything that relates to the supernatural; aliens and mutants? sure those are scientifically proved but death people, core magic and ghost? Nuh uh… nop, that’s way too kahooted for him and a very nonsensical non scientific stuff to be mixing himself with.

So, he knows he’s starting to look a bit crazed as he stared a tad contemplative at the small baby ghost ‘tuttelagé’ he corrects himself in his head ‘he’s a dead protective spirit’ but he’s just soooo curios…..

“We now will start with the debrief with the members of Dark explaining some background first” announced Batman over the table, making Barry focus on the rest of the team surrounding him; Superman and Aquaman together with Hal and Martian MH were moving documents and folders that the Bat had made in just five minutes after the mission and ‘how the fuck did he do that! He’s the Flash and even him isn’t that efficient to pull out a document in that short amount of time!’

“First things first, the mission” intones Constantine taking a cig and lighting it of with his magic “we, the Justice League Dark received an S.O.S tip from someone who claimed that there were some unknown cult people making the homeless disappear from some of your cities” making some quick slides and pictures appear “we noticed a pattern with them tho, they only kidnapped people with shady or non-visible outline; so some cities like Star City and Metropolis only had one or two missing and the only large one was of course…. Gotham and Bluddhaven, so we decided to involve the according héroes of these cities”

Zatanna then interrupted to add “We also noticed that some of these place still reeked death, from an old ritual that we found some clues into it, we discovered some things”

“First, what they did and how they did it before disappearing was concerning” added Constantine, as he releases a spell to burn of the cig “ and the second thing we noticed was, when we finally came in contact with one of these places we discovered these….”

Zatanna moved aside as a massive green looming circle came into view “Swamp Thing together with Enchantress managed to find some more clues about the deity these cults were trying to summon and among the common ones like Hades, Kali  or Anubis we found out this one belonging to an ancient god of the death like Mictlantecuhtli or Ah Puch, but we managed to narrow it down to one member that belongs to a group called The Endless”

Constantine then interrupts again, this time taking a long break as Batman grunts “now before we start explaining who these gals are we have to get understand this a’right? The Endless are a family of beings who are very prickly to bond with, but they are Death, Delirium, Desire, Despair, Destiny, Destruction and Dream and each of them is as ancient as a god, so we don’t mention these guys in the open likewise”

Zatanna then added “with this, now we had a lead on who they were trying to bring forth but also the location of the ritual they were trying to do” 

“But, where does this tuttelagé fall all into this?” interrupted Green Arrow looking towards Wonder Woman with the child still sleeping  in her arms “by Zatanna words, he’s a protection spirit not a death one, where does this kid spirit fall into this mess”

“We think the cultist as they were trying to summon Death itself but because Death doesn’t like to answer her phone, instead forcefully brought out one of his most closer charges” tutted Constantine answering the man.

“Death has tons of offspring scattered all around the multiverse for her to care to count but with what Z’ says it’s true about the little tick then this means someone hurt her son and his charge in a way that almost makes him fade away”

“And this is bad becauseee?” slurred stupidly Flash, Constantine exhaled annoyed at the speedster “because it means that whatever these idiots did, it hurt an offspring of Death itself, and Death isn’t as forgiving as Dream or Destiny; so if she so wants, she could end this world and be done with us because one of her children; because news ta ya Flash, Death adores her children equally”

The faces of several members of the Justice League were ashen as it dawn in, a heavy sense of dread sets in as everyone looks at the baby resting in Dianna's arms still sleeps soundly.

#danny phantom #dpxdc #dp x dc writing prompt #justice league #baby danny #danny fenton #i did a thing #i did my best #i did this to myself #i fixed it #english isnt my first language

[irulaan]

Batstarion who relishes in the simple pleasures of his new form, savoring juicy fruits until his fur is stained vibrant hues of berry and peach. He delighted in the way your eyes lit up with joy at the sight, your laughter—a melodious tune— filling the air and his heart alike, even if it sounded different in his bat form.

Batstarion who had a penchant for snuggling into the crook of your neck, nestling close, or curling up comfortably on your lap if you were sitting down. In those moments, he felt a profound sense of belonging and peace.

When you stroked his tiny, delicate frame, Batstarion would immediately succumb to the soothing touch. Soft, contented squeaks would escape him, trailing off as he drifted into a serene sleep. He felt an unparalleled comfort with you, trusting you completely.

Bastarion, who now can bask in the sun rays without being scorched to ashes. The sun, once a feared enemy, had become a new love for hum. In his bat form, he can savour the warmth that he had been denied for so long. Those fleeting moments in the sunlight filled him with a joy he hadn’t known he missed.

Batstarion who, accompanying you to the market became another of his favorite pastimes. Clinging to your arm or nestled in the crook of your neck, Batstarion enjoyed the bustle and color of the marketplace. His mischievous streak remained intact, though; he'd swipe a crystal or some other pretty bauble for you, his tiny claws deft and quick. How could you ever be cross with him when he looked up at you with those beady eyes? His bat form rendered him irresistibly endearing, his antics only adding to his charm.

And when he felt particularly neglected, Batstarion would nibble and sometimes even bite you, his tiny teeth seeking your full attention. It was his way of demanding that you focus entirely on him, ensuring that your love and affection were solely his.

this isn’t ASCENDED ASTARION ok? he just found a way to turn himself into a bat, ok? Right? Please

#batstarion #astarion ancunin #astarion fluff #astarion x reader #astarion angst #astarion x tav #baldurs gate 3 #my little star <3

[grugruel]

The Artist and the Flower

Pairings: Benedict bridgerton x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Sexpollen

Masterlist

Summary: A mysterious flower brought back from Colin's travels put you and Benedict in a curious predicament. Resulting in sex and other things.

Word count: 4.9k

Warnings: sexpollen, friends to livers, passionate sex, pinv sex, oral sex (female recieving), rough sex (blink and you'll miss it), choking, praise, pet names (princess, girl, woman, lady.), pillow princess ish?, "I love you", mating-press, missionary, creampie. (Think that's all)

AN: not yet proofread! Hope you guys enjoy!

Approaching footsteps roused my mind, they thudded dully against wooden floorboards, pausing only to whisper mutely. 'This is not funny, where are you?'

I tried to focus in my breathing, my fingers were sluggish as they wiped themselves clean against the bottom hem of my dress.

'Woman!' The voice called, shrill and urgent this time. Ringing terribly in my ear. It's accompanying steps diminishing as they hurried passed me where I sat on my knees, all dizzy on the floor.

'Benedict!' I hissed. The bright interior blurring as I made to stand up, legs wobbly beneath the unsteady weight of my torso.

There was a muffled squeak through the wall, shoes whirling against polished wood. Indicating him turning on his heel. 'Most, esteemed woman?' He tried again, punctuating the words as he half joked, half not. Simply hopeful hollow flattery would spur me into giving further clues to my whereabouts.

'Get in here at once!' I threw my finger toward the floor in reinforcement, as if he could see me do it. But the world spun suddenly, and I staggered a few steps until I caught myself on a wall. The window I'd opened wasn't doing much, except chilling my damp skin with the occasional draft.

With a last few steps, he darted to the door that separating us and four quaint knocks rapped aginst it. I gritted my teeth, annoyance taking over the hand. 'Yes, come on in.' Still, I willed my voice into the least irritable tone I could muster. This was not his fault after all.

'Ah–' he sighed, and pushed the door open. '–godess. . .' There was a mocking tone to the word and a satisfied grin on his lips, but it quickly fell as his eyes scoured over my appearance and utter devastation replaced it.

I wiped my forehead free of the beading sweat, and it too, began to tingle just like my fingertips had–to my horror, I realised–I'd probably just added more of whatever that dust was into my system. Now seeping through my skin and diluting my blood, impairing my usually keen senses with whatever toxins it provided.

He hurried to my side in big, worried strides to lay and arm around my back, steadying me when I couldn't steady myself. 'Wha-' He couldn't even form a word of surprise, his jaw slack as he gestured with his free hand to my dishevelled appearance. 'Why are you in Colins room? In this, state?' He quickly added. If I wasn't mistaken, which I might very well have been considering I didn't have full use of my mind. But, I could almost detect jealousy in his tone.

He would get the wrong idea, about Colin. 'Well,' I tried being nonchalant, tried to act like the places he made contact with my skin did not burn for him. I screwed my eyes shut and pulled all my focus into an answer. 'The wine got to my head, and I realised,' My words came out sluthered and slow. 'I hadn't been in here before, and. . .' My head began nodding of its own accord, already finding my unsaid words agreeable. '. . .it had to be remedied.'

'Of course, of course it did.' Benedict sighed, his shoulders shrugging in exasperation as he began looking around, presumably to find something for me to sit on, but his eyes fastened on something else instead. I cringed, for his eyes darted from the open rucksack, then back to me. The look he gave me was nothing but disapproving. But goodness, he was stading so close. His breaths warm against my cheek and mildly stained by alcoholic bevrages, much like mine must've been. But oh, the fire in his eyes gave me quite a start, not that I was fearful of it. In fact, I found the opposite to be true. It almost felt as if I had abaorbed it, and it traveled downward. . . 'You went through his belongings?'

My mind froze, the newfound aching in my body too distracting. 'I. . .' I felt my eyes narrow and forehead furrow, my dull reflexes attempting a poor pretence of thoughts. 'I couldn't help myself. I'm sorry. But there was this box, with some strange flower inside. . .' I trailed off. An amused, tipsy smile making it's way onto my face as I noted his incredulous expression.

His hands slid down my arm, and the sensation traveled straight to my core. Causing the need to stifle a moan arise.

'And you thought it a good idea to touch a foreign plant of which you know nothing of?' He spoke fast, too fast for me to keep up. Especially when goosebumps ran rampid in the wake of his touch, when my core ached for him to continue, to push his body further into mine. My heart beat too fast, his hand too close to the pulse point on my wrist.

My hand found it's way beneath his jaw, a wide grin splaying across my face. 'Wine will do that to a gentlewoman.' I explained, sluthering slightly. But feeling no more explanation to be necessary.

He screwed his eyes shut and stood completley still for a moment, I could almost see the thoughts swirling in the crammed space of his mind. 'Well,' he looked at me once again, searching my eyes. 'What gentleman would I be to leave a woman in need to her own devices?' He opened the box and grabbed the flower without hesitation, feeling its vevelty petals, rubbing the dust between his fingertips and then- tasted it.

Currents of static electricity zapped beneath my chest, spreading throughout me body. Everything happened so fast. And all I could do was watch, very intently, as the pads of his middle- and index finger made contact with his tongue, swiping clean against it. Lips then closing around them to suck whatever remained off. The heat building in my body was nothing short of sinful, and the thoughts–my thoughts–were even worse.

'Let's go.'

'Pardon?' Precious air left my lungs, leaving me breathless.

'Dinner with the Bridgertons.'

'I figured it to be out of the question.' My expression confounded.

'Colin is already downstairs, and we must find out what exactly that plant is-' He stopped. Eyes all of a sudden distant as they grazed over my features, landing on my lips. He still held my wrist, stroking the inside with gentle circles.

'Ben?' It was summer in the country, this much I knew. But surely, the temperature could not rise as fast as it just did. Sweat was pooling at my back, beneath my bust. And I began to wish, that he would simply. . . Lick-

'We must go.' I declared, clearing my throat. Hoping the words would snap us out of our trance.

'Right, of course.' He nodded, a blush sweeping across his cheeks. His eyes suddenly keen to examine the floor. But he kept his han his hand on the small of my back, urging me down the halls of the big house. Ocassionally, he'd scrunch the fabric of my dress, feeling the flexing of my back beneath the tips of his fingers. It pulled my attention to the sensitivity of my skin, and the pleasure his small, simple action gave me.

The next thing I knew, I was being helped into a chair at the center of the dining table. Benedict laid a hand on my shoulder that was meant to be reassuring, but it had an impact much more wicked on me. He took the seat across from me, and oh so conveniently placed himself next to Colin. Conversation grew heavy as Violet became quite inquisitive with her children. Eloise's debut, Anthony's proposal plans, and who he was planning on the recieving end. I would usually have been elbow deep in the gossip and drama, but my mind was elsewhere, muddled or perhaps tainted, as I couldn't focus on much of anything. Their voices grew sharp in my ears, the candlelight too bright for my eyes.

Ben leaned in to whisper in Colin's ear, who's eyes grew wide. Looking at me with growing worry, in fact, he almost looked like he would be sick.

I could understand why. Slouched in my seat, looking generally ill and doing more drinking than eating. Which was most likely only adding to the growing problem rather than subduing it. But oh, was he handsome. Flushed, he combed a hand through his hair. Slicking it with the dampness from his forehead, his eyes darting over my figure every now and then. Whatever that flower was, it seemed to be getting to him too. Colin opened his mouth to answer Ben.

'How are you dear, you look a little I'll.' Violet asked with genuine worry, interrupting the boys hushed conversation and turned them onto me with anxious eyes.

'I'm well.' I smiled, feeling as though my own voice was not mine.

Ben's eyes creased, a grin spreading over his lips, and then began giggling.

The conversations cut, and everyone stared at him. 'Are you quite alright, dear?' Violets eyes were full of concern, now placed upon him instead. I didn't yet know if it was warranted or not. But I was glad he pulled any lingering eyes from my current state.

'I apologise.' The words were strained as he pushed them out between more fluttering giggles, leading him to cover his blushing face. 'Her lady just told me something stunningly funny, that is all.' Benedict gestured to me, his eyes glinting with mischief. That little-

'Truly?' Violet smiled expectantly, something like understanding in her eyes. That cunning look she always gave her children when she knew something they didn't. Perhaps she'd taken my demeanour as that of a girl with a hidden crush, only anxious under the gaze of her love. She wouldn't be entirely wrong. Long had I known the Bridgertons, and even longer had I liked Ben.

I cleared my throat, blinking away the haze in my eyes. 'I'm uncertain of its propriety. . .' I tried to redirect, a drop of sweat sliding down my temple as I nervously glanced around at the members of the family. And ufortunately, I felt a bubbling up inside my chest, a composition of my own laughter. 'It was, uhm. . .' I paused, working hard to keep a smile from creeping onto my lips. Trying desperate to think of something to say. Anything, really.

'Well, let's hear it.' Anthony said with a grin, and the rest of the table agreed. Eloise being little more than a heap of snickers, Colin seeming to be the only one who gained little to no amusement from the situation.

Watching my struggles and deeming them incredibly funny, Benedicts giggles evovled and he burst out laughing. I was second behind him, but the table quickly joined in with a chorus of incredulous chuckles and wild looks of incomprehension. 'What is the matter with you two?' Eloise asked, her eyes watery as she clutched stomache.

We locked eyes, Ben and I. Both now scorching, judging from the trickling sweat on his neck and the tickling down my back. Warmth spread throughout my chest, and something fluttered in my stumache. Something was terribly wrong with the flower for me to feel so deeply, so suddenly.

Colin took his chance when Benedict had calmed himself, leaning in to whisper in his ear. Ben's face offered an array of reactions ti every word spoken. Confusion, surprise, anger. It was enough for me to conclude that something was not right, and that was when his eyes went wide. 'Then why would you not keep a lock on it, brother?' He shouted, his voice much louder than anticipated. Worry grew in me as I carefully studied their expressions, replacing all my previous feelings of joy. Colin whispered again, his lips moving eratically as he shook his head, clearly distressed and displeased. Ben's eyes locked on mine a second time, again, they were full of fire. However, something told me it was not of the same sort I'd seen earlier today, this was not anger. No, it was something else entierly. 'Pardon us, drar family. But the lady and I must be excused.' He claimed suddenly, turning to his mother and Anthony. 'We have urgent business that need tending to.'

'–my parents estate. . .' I cut in, sensing the graveness behind his words. It cant be good if his mood had changed so quickly. The family gave me an odd look, and I scrambled further, not wishing for them to get the wrong impression. 'The art- the art in their estate. We had a Lively discussion before dinner. . . Hence the art. Because he's an artist.' I paused my rambling lips, they did me more bad than good. I stood hastily, the rich pulsing around me as I did so, almost knocking the chair to the floor. I smoothed my dress out and exited the diningroom with an "excuse me" and a unecessary curtsy.

Rushing down hallways, I brushed my hand along the wall for support. Benedict's footsteps only a pace behind my own. He placed a hand on my hip, to brace me or simply because he wanted to fell me, I did not know.

Stopping outside my rooms, I urged him to explain. 'Apparently,' he began, rubbing the nape of his neck. I knew that tell. 'It's not, good news. . .'

I leaned back against the doorframe, my body drenched in sweat. The wafting of my fan doing nothing to help. 'Benedict Bridgerton, tell me immediately.' I growled.

'Its an aphrodesiac. It means-'

I expelled a strained breath. 'I know what it means, Ben. Continue.' The air blew against the exposed skin of of my chest, cooking it effectively.

Benedict hesitated, none of this was proper. Yet, his eyes lingered on the growing goosebumps over my breasts. His gaze sliding to my throat, watching it bob as I swallowed a big breath of air. 'We are friends Ben, discussing such things educationally does not betray social rules.' I tried to convince us both.

He nodded absentmindedly, his eyes snapping back to mine with a newfound reverence. He himself staggering as his balance perception had been knocked down a peg. It was really starting to get to him, so I grabbed his jacket to steady him. 'Its pollen is poisonous in large amounts, If consumed and left untreated, lethal.'

I swallowed again, the world spinning as my mind fumbled his words, turning them over and over in my head. 'Considering the side-effects,' I gestured with the fan between the two of us. 'I gather we have large amounts in our blood.'

To this he nodded, the uncertainty in his eyes replaced with a wicked smile spreading across his lips. 'Clever girl.'

His praise felt like a punch to the gut. Although not knocing the air out of me, it did leave me in pain. 'And how do we cure it?' I tried to distract myself, my breathing was growing uneven, my thoughts a haze. And Benedict Bridgerton, looking more and more like something I'd like to devour.

His hand braced against the doorframe above my head ti stabilise him, his tall frame nkw looming over me, our faces stopping only a few inches appart. 'By working it out of our systems, by executing certain activities,' he murmured, studying me under hodded eyes and parted lips. 'The burning needs to be sated. If not, it will develop into fever, the throat will close and-'

'Alright, that's quite enough.' I gestured for him to stop. My lip trembling, my body burning as I looked at him through my lashes. 'What exactly are these activities?' I had a feeling, a hunch, where this was going.

'You must forgive my crudeness.' He took my hands in his free one, managing to wrap his considerably larger one around both of mine. 'By love making.' He was even closer now, his nose touching my cheekbone as he whispered in my ear. 'Sex.' His breaths were ragged, on edge. His tongue darting out to wet his lips. He stopped himself, closing his eyes. His forehead lulling against mine. Most likely taming himself jusy like I had to, trying not to think of the multiple worst case scenarios.

'We cannot stay out here, somebody will see us.' I warned, my nose rubbing against his. My body so taunt, tense, it needed desperate release. My spine was still recovering from that word. It had shaped a ball of anticipation in the pit of my stumache. It could ruin me, my prospects. I only just debuted. But- sex. . . That was all I wanted in this moment, and I wanted it with this man.

I looked him in the eyes and opened the door to my bedchamber. 'I love a tragedy, an epic story of true love ending in death.' I whispered, moving my hands around his. 'But we are not lovers.' Taking a few steps back, I led him inside. 'So, lets make this count.' He followed me willingly, his eyes loyal and round like a puppy's as he gazed at me with adoration. And the door fell shut behind him.

'What if we were?' His voice was low and burdened with lust. One hand coming to stroke a few strands of hair from my cheek.

I blinked, barely comprehending his touch. 'We shall not perish, Benedict. I refuse.'

'No, but we could love.'

'What?' My brows furrowed.

'Perhaps, you could find it in your heart to love me, as I have always loved you.' He paused. The next words were heavy as they hung from the tip of his tounge. 'Let me make love to you.' His voice vibrating from the strain of on his chest. He took a step closer, his chest pressing flush against mine. 'Let me teach you.' His voice was pleading, and I had to crane my neck to keep his eye contact. 'Marry me. . .' His hands cupped my face. '. . .marry me.' he leaned in, whispering the words against my lips.

I nodded slowly. 'Teach me.' And our lips clashed together.

Years worth of structural limitations evaporated, society and politics a thing of the past as Benedict raised my skirt, found purchase under my thighs and pulled me into his embrace. His skilled tongue finding its way into my mouth with ease.

He walked us backward, gently laying me down on my bed despite the urgency of our lust. 'What do you need?' He asked through muffled moans, his lips busy with mine. I could not think, nothing about my being would work with me. 'Talk to me, what do you need?' He breathed, voice almost a whimper as his hands squeezed my hips, urging me to answer.

'You,' I managed. 'I need you.' I could feel him smile against my lips.

'Do you trust me, love?'

'Always.'

He pushed off me, hooked his hands under my knees and pulled me to the edge of the bed.

Then kneeled.

Benedict, the man that he is, stood on his knees before me. Between my legs, he smiled a wicked smile. My body was limp in his touch, completely at his disposal. The aching cravings of my core did not care what he did, as long as it was he who did it.

His hands dove under the hem of my skirt, tracing my legs upward, hitching the fabric on his wrists. He stopped above my knees, kneeding them thoughtfully as his eyes searched mine. It took my mind a second to wrap around his request, it was already so painfully clear to me that I would agree at any given moment of our time together that I could not fathom him wanting further confirmation. 'Yes. . . Please.'

He wasted no time. He was hungry. He flipped the skirt over my abdomen and got to work. Immidietly lowering himself onto my mound, lipping a stripe from my core to my clit and he moaned.

A shuddering whimper left me, if it was from his reaction or the sensation of his tongue I would never know. Proudly, he wrapped his lips around me clit and vegan sucking, licking and nipping. It was unlike anything I'd ever felt before, my fingers could never compete with his expertise. My body wriggled involuntairly, compelling him to hold my hips down with one hand, and taking it as a sign to slide the other along the inside of my thigh and burry a finger inside me, pumling it in an out.

I cried out, covering my mouth as my free hand dove into his hair. Pulling and scratching, I urged him to continue. But somewhere inside me, worry built. What about him? My eyes glanced over the still beading sweat on his forehead, afraid it might be the fever Ben had spoken of. 'What about you?' I whimpered, stroking his hair in a gentler fashion as he continued his contrasting assault on my mound.

'What about me?' He moaned, voice muffled by my skin and shrugged, sliding another finger inside me. His eyes studying my reaction, the way my body moved. I cried out again, biting my lip this time to stifle it as my other hand entwined with the one he held at my hip.

'Is it enough for you?' The words were expelled on an exhale, my voice pitched from continously pleasure, but beneath there was worry. And he noticed.

He chuckled breathely against my clit. 'I do not care about me.' His eyes met mine, and a strike of lighting shot through me, a whimper escaping me with furrowed brows. And he continued with a groan. 'Giving you pleasure is all I need.' And added a third finger, curling them inside me. Their size was admirable, especially as they hit some special spot inside me.

My back arched and a tidal wave of pleasure rolled over me, the pressure that'd been builing in my stumache finally released.

He watched me intently. 'Let me hear you.' He requested, continuing to move his fingers as he helped me through my orgasm, palming himself through his pants with his free hand. I obliged him. A string of curses unbefitting of a lady left my lips in whimpers.

'It takes talent to make such vulgar words sound pretty.' He licked another stripe along my folds, gathering my orgasm on his tongue and swallowed greedily. A strained grunt left him, and he collapsed into my lap, a shiver running through his body. My hand left his to brace myself on my forearm, gathering a better view of him as I combed my hand through his hair soothingly, and that's when I noticed the wet spot on his pants. I gasped. 'It was truly enough for you?' I ovserved him in awe, the aching beginning to roar inside me yet again.

'I told you,' He panted, sucking his fingers clean between his attempts to catch his breath and tilted his head to look up at me. Such a sinful act embedded so innocently. 'You are enough for me, pretty girl.' Now it was not only mor core which ached, but my heart also. Still on his knees, he let himself regenerate in my lap whilst his adoring eyes romaed my face. A show of devotion, of resignation, of love.

I moved to sit, his head still in my lap as he circled his arms around my waist, gaze still locked on mine. 'I love you.' I whispered, brushing the damp hair from his forehead.

His eyes softened impossibly more. 'I've always, always been in love with you. Since the first week of our meeting.'

My chest ached. 'Why have you never told me so?'

'Throwing our friendship away based on chance was not odds I was willing to risk.' He hugged me tighter, then stood up. 'But im afraid, that were not out of the woods yet.' He said, un buttoning his shirt and pants. 'Im feeling quite feverish.' His eyes glistened with mischief, and let the coat fall from his shoulders.

'If you want me again, you need only say so.' I smiled, now it was my time to look up at him with loving eyes.

'I want you again.' He removed his shirt, and I hade to collect my breath for a second. 'Stand, my love. We will do this properly.' He took my hands and helped me to my feet, turned me around and undid my dress and corset. Again, It made me realise just how much experience he had.

When I stood in only my chemise, feeling naked and vunerable. He stood in only his breeches. Nothing my nervous state, he said. 'We can leave it on, love.' Searching my eyes.

But I shook my head, if I was to have all of him, he was to have all of me. 'Please.' I whispered, motioning for him to take it off me. And he did, it slid down my body easily. Gradually exposing every inch of skin only me and most likely my maids had seen.

He stood struck for a moment, unmoving, unspeaking. Until- 'I do not deserve you.' He awed, 'Beautiful, beautiful woman.' Reaching his hand out to stroke my biceps, my abdomen, eyes searching mine before they traveled further up.

'You do, if any man ever was to. It would be you.' I promised him, and at this he blushed. I grabbed his hand and laid it atop my breast. With a groan, he stepped closer. His free hand cupping my face as the other massaged my breast, and his lips met mine. Softly, his hand slid around my back, guiding me back knto the bed, laying me carefully down on the pillows. 'Princess.' He breathed, sat back and removed his breeches. I did not have time to fawn over his size until he was on me again. Hooking my leg on his knee, he spread it wide. Bracing on a forearm, his face was inches from mine as he lowers himself on top of me. His thick length grazing my clit. Sensitive and burning, still–I noticed. The polled had yet to leave our system, perhaps it deadliness had subdued, but it's symptoms were yet in full effect.

Benedict nuzzled my cheek. 'Tell me what you want.' He whispered in my ear.

'You, all of you.'

'Be more specific, dearest.'

I swallowed, my breathing growing heavier. 'Sex.' I murmured, and his lips formed a smiled against my jaw. 'I want sex.'

'I would want nothing more than to give it to you.' He breathed, and lined himself up with my entrance. Then pushed himself in, gently, but consistently. My whimpered only spurring him on, not stopping until he reached the hilt. He'd done his job well, since I easily adjusted around him. 'Good girl.' He whispered, tracing kisses from my lips to my neck. 'Taking me so well.'

I ached, arching my back, I needed more. My skin was growing more and more sensitive. 'Please, Ben. . .'

That was all he needed to hear. He pulled out and thrusted into me again, moving my entire body with each stroke and it was like nothing I've ever felt before. 'Holy-' I interrupted myself with a moan.

He chuckled, but truthfully it was more of a moan. 'Feel so good.' He murmured against my skin, kissing the tender spot between my shoulder and throat. 'Like I imagined.'

Pause. He's thought of me? In this way? With. . . women, by himself?

'When, tell me when.'

'Always. I thinn of you when I lay with other women, I think of you when I touch myself.' His hand ran down my body, squeezing my breast as he drove himself deeper. And I had to wonder–were those acts specific details of his dreams, desires? 'You occupy my mind, always.' He said quite breathlessly.

'Show me, show me how you want me.'

He pulled out if me, hooked my legs over his shoulders and thrusted back in. Every rut of his hips hitting that sweet spot inside me, wrecking me over and over again. Strained breaths against my throat became the outcome of his efforts, as the power behind each thrust pushed me deeper into the mattress. 'What else, show me what else. I'm yours.' I moaned.

His lips found mine, and his hand my throat. Gently, he enveloped it. Softly, he squeezed. 'Say it again.' His lips murmured against mine, kissing them between every breath he labored.

'I'm yours.' I whispered, and he groaned. A particularly forcefull thrust was made into me. He was never rough in anything he did, but he put his back into it. Always the gentleman, never the brute. I've never been happier for a man to be so contrasting.

The burning, the aching, the pressure. It was all towering, waiting to be pushed over at any second. 'Mine,' he moaned. 'My love.' His pace quickened and ruts hardened. He was as close as I was. 'I love you. . .' He whimpered and spilled himself inside of me. And I came a second later, iregular thrusts carrying me through my blinding orgasm. 'I love you.' He told me over and over again as he let my legs fall to his sides, and collapsed onto my smaller figure. With his head on my chest, I held him. 'I love you too.'

'Marry me, then.'

'Give me a ring, then.' I guggled. He made to stand up, to slither out of my embrace. 'Not now!'

'Timorrow, then?' He laid back down, this time he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close.

'Tomorrow, then.' I confirmed. Id never been so happy as in that moment.

#benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton smut #bridgerton smut #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton imagine

[jjunberry]

cockwarming with mean dom gamer!beomgyu that ends with him putting the reader in her place🤭

❝ a little thing called patience ❞

choi beomgyu x fem!reader

warnings: mean dom gyu, sub reader, degradation, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, creampie, choking if you squint, pussy slapping….. he’s a mean dom y’all 🤭

wc: 900

you let out a sigh as you eyed your boyfriend, headphones on as his eyes focused on whatever game he was playing. it wasn’t fair all his attention was on that stupid game. “beomie,” you whined. “can we do something else?” your question remained unanswered as he clicked away.

your feet carried you over to his chair. he paid you no mind as your hands rubbed his shoulders, fingers trailing down his arms. “beomie, can we do something else?” you whined by his ear. the boy stiffened in his seat, “baby i’m almost done, now go wait on the bed and be a good girl.” his voice was stern. you listened sitting on the bed, however that didn’t last long.

all you could focus on was his long slender fingers, tapping away at the keyboard. images of those same fingers working your pussy had you clenching your thighs, desperate for any kind of friction. “beomie?” you whined. “what baby?” he asked, his eyes looking at you briefly. you did nothing to hide how desperate you were.

“i need you.” you whined. “and i told you when i was done. now be good or else.” he turned back to his game. the sharp tone of his voice had you clenching around nothing. a few minutes felt like a few hours. you needed him, so you took matters into your own hands.

acting quickly you removed your clothes leaving you only in a pair of pink panties, his favorite pair to be exact. before you could talk yourself out of anything you walked over and threw your leg over his legs, planting yourself on his lap.

beomgyu’s tapping ceased and his eyebrows furrowed. you watched as he muted his mic, “what are you doing?” he asked lowly his eyes scanning your naked body. he sucked in a breath seeing your panties.

you rocked your hips against his and whined feeling him. your thin panties and his sweatpants leaving little to the imagination. his hands were quick to grab your hips, stopping your movements. “w-why’d you stop beomie,” you whined.

“i told you to behave and wait, and what did you do?” he asked. you were quiet, his large palm came down on your ass. “i-i didn’t wait,” you yelped. he smirked before holding you and standing. “you’re in a lot of trouble,” beomgyu tossed you onto the bed. your back hit the soft sheets, your eyes trailed up to beomgyu. he stood above you, his hands pulling his shirt off.

“beomie,” you whined, bucking your hips. “be patient.” he said smacking your clothed pussy. beomgyu noticed the wet spot on your panties and scoffed. “you’re such a little slut aren’t you?” you nodded at his words, “aren’t you?” he asked again.

“y-yes,” you whined.

his fingers teased your clit through your soaked panties. gathering the slick, “so wet and i barely touched you.” his fingers traced your panties again making your hips buck up. beomgyu tisked, pulling away from you.

“what did i say about patience, slut?” his brows furrowed. tears welled in your eyes, your body ached for him. “aww poor little girl going to cry? that’s right cry for this cock.” with one hand he freed himself from his sweats, his cock already hard.

his tip grace your soaking entrance, “i’m going to fuck this pussy full, i’m going to use you until i’m done,” he rubbed his tip along your folds. “and maybe if you’re good i’ll think about letting you cum.” with force he buried himself completely in your eager pussy.

“fuck,” he grunted slamming his hips into yours. “b-beomgyu.” you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer. beomgyu freed himself from your hold, pinning your arms still. “behave.” he said snapping his hips harshly, his tip hitting the spongy part deep inside you.

“m-more, i need more.” you whined wiggling beneath him. “i’m so close,” the tight feeling becomes too much to bare. “i’m gonna cum.” beomgyu’s movement stops completely, “you’ll cum when i say you can, now stop being a brat.” he smacked your clit, jolting your body.

sweat covered your body, as your legs shook. beomgyu focused on how your pussy swallowed his cock whole. his eyes watched as he entered and left your aching hole. “fuck look at that? you like me using you huh?” he grunted. his movements were staggering.

“b-beomie can i please cum?” you begged, tears falling down your cheeks. beomgyu tsked, “so now you remember your manners? only good girls get to cum, sluts like you get nothing.”

beomgyu moved his hips faster, his hands gripping your hips sure to leave marks. “gonna fill you up,” his hips snapped in one more time before his hot sticky load filled you up. beomgyu’s head was thrown back, stomach muscles clenching as the last of his load spilled.

your orgasm still there, the hurt from holding it replaced with the warmth of beomgyu’s cum. “fuck,” he breathed out pulling out seeing the pearly white flow out. his fingers scooping it and pushing it back in.

your body shook at the feeling. beomgyu pushed his now softening cock back inside. “hope you’ve learned your lesson baby, now maybe if you're patient with my cock tonight,” he gripped your throat and kissed you deeply.

“then maybe i’ll reward you in the morning.” he pulled you closer, his cock still buried deep in your ruined cunt.

mlist

author’s note: y’all… i was giggling and kicking my feet while writing this. tysm for the request anon <3

tag list: @304files @jjunieworld

🗒️:like what you’ve read? send me a request! see guidelines here.

love, echo ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪

© jjunberry - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

#choi beomgyu #choi beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu imagine #choi beomgyu smut #beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu imagine #beomgyu smut #txt beomgyu #txt beomgyu x reader #txt beomgyu imagine #txt beomgyu smut #txt #txt x reader #txt imagine #txt smut #kpop #kpop x reader #kpop imagine #kpop smut #kpop writers #jjunberry

[talesof-old]

literally anything with dad!james please he would be the best dad ever

- 🦌

james potter would’ve been the best dad ever 😔

pairing(s): dad!james potter x pregnant!reader

warning(s): reader is pregnant though it’s not the focus, james as a dad, reader is a mom, breakfast in bed, i picture harry being a very happy child okay, if you see any mistake no you didn’t

word count: 941

masterlist

“Shhh, we don’t want to wake Mummy up yet.”

You shifted in your bed, face pressed against the pillow. Faintly, you could hear the giggles of James and Harry, muffled by the closed door. You sighed. Sunlight filtered in through the gaps of the curtains, shining across your bed in brilliant beams. The clock on your bedside read: 9:28.

You rubbed your eyes, hauling yourself from the bed and shuffling into the bathroom. You were quick to finish your business, palm resting on your swollen stomach. In a few minutes, you’d managed to brush your teeth and straighten your hair, choosing to instead investigate the reasoning behind your husband and son’s laughter.

“No! Mummy…” The words were loud and petulant from your son, though James at least had the decency to wince. You frowned.

“You’re s’pposed to be in bed.” Harry was waving his arms about like you’d foiled their whole plan. You spared a glance at your husband, amusement already taking root. Both of them looked a mess, hair askew and clothes covered in flour. You crouched down, holding your arms out to your son. He humphed but complied, curling into your arms and nuzzling into your chest.

“Morning, Haz.” His response was quiet as he let you hold him. Four years old and already a carbon copy of his father, you were certain he’d give James a run for his money as he got older. Your heart pinched. Time had flown by so quickly. Your baby was already walking and talking and playing, and soon enough he’d be off to school. Tears pricked at your eyes but you willed them away, shifting your hold on Harry to pull him into your hip. Your back strained but you ignored the twinge. James pressed a kiss to your temple.

You raised a brow. “Breakfast in bed was the goal.”

Harry wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder. You rubbed his back, rocking back and forth as you smiled.

“Should Mummy go back to bed then?” You poked Harry’s side. He giggled, swatting at your hand. “Yes!” You laughed, running a hand through his messy hair and kissing his forehead.

“Help Daddy, alright?” Harry nodded solemnly as you put him down. James’ eyes were soft as he regarded you, fondness oozing off of him in waves. You leaned forward, lips locking with his for a brief moment before you heard your son making gagging noises at the two of you. You pulled away with a mock sound of offense, chasing him back to your bedroom with the threat of tickles. Harry’s screams of laughter echoed through the house as you made your way back to your bedroom.

It was only once you’d settled back into the sheets that James called him to come back to the kitchen. The soft patter of his feet leading him away from you had your heart steadying. Your boys, however wild they were, never failed to want to spoil you.

The sound of plates clinking down the hallway had you grinning. James pushed open the door, bent over Harry, hands hovering over his to make sure he didn’t drop the tray. His still chubby cheeks were red and his eyes focused as he shuffled towards you. You cooed as James helped him set the tray onto your lap.

“You helped with this?” You made your eyes comically wide as Harry climbed onto your bed, kneeling on the blankets and grinning. “Obviously.” He shrugged.

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you. Obviously. James rubbed the back of his neck and gave you a sheepish look. “He helped with the pancakes.”

And sure enough, the oddly shaped pancakes could’ve only been done by your four year old. “Are you sure? Looks like the pancakes you made me last Sunday.” James’ mouth fell open in indignation. Harry, using your distraction, took a quick bite of your muffin before shuffling to lay under your covers.

You rubbed his head. “Comfy, Haz?” He nodded, burying his face into the soft fabric of your pillow.

“I make pancakes wonderfully, thank you.” You hummed, grabbing the fork and taking a bite. James watched with bright eyes. You leaned closer to Harry, whispering, “I think you make them better than Daddy.” Harry’s giggles were muffled only by the pillow as James flopped down beside him. You kept a hand on the tray to prevent any messes.

“My own family has betrayed me.” He grabbed a hold of Haz, blowing raspberries on his stomach as he shrieked. Your cheeks began to ache from smiling, but god, did you love them. Harry wiggled from James’ grasp and jumped off the bed. You watched as he rolled and smirked at his father, goading him into a chase. James, never one to lose, not even to his son, was up in an instant. He chased him all throughout the house while you ate. While quiet mornings were few and far between, you couldn’t help the way your heart melted at the sound of your son’s laughter or the way James treated him with so much love.

The laughter dissolved and soon enough James was carrying Haz back to your bed. James’ voice grew loud as he spoke. “I’ve got my little traitor!” Your son flopped down, eyes shut as he caught his breath only to cuddle back up to you.

“I love you, even if you don’t like my pancakes.”

James kissed your forehead, cuddling up to Harry. You hummed.

“Don’t worry, honey. I love your pancakes.” James half-heartedly hit your shoulder with his pillow.

“There are children around!”

+++

#marauders x reader #marauders #marauders era #james potter x reader #james potter #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter fluff #james potter drabble #james potter oneshot #dad!james potter #harry james potter #reader insert #whoever decided to nickname harry ‘haz’ deserves a kiss #anon 🦌

[nina-ya]

Can I have a scenario where Law is jealous of Bepo because you’re always hugging and cuddling with him like the big cuddle bear he is but Law is too shy to admit that he’s jealous

A/N: Hi there!! I had a lot of fun writing this I hope you enjoy! Pairing: Law x Reader CW: none just fluff WC: ~800

It’s truly hard to resist the lure of the comfort that Bepo brings. Everyone knows this. Everyone on the crew has succumbed to the furry comfort of the polar bear, and you were no different. Especially during those cold winters, trying to steal Law’s body warmth is not enough, so you often turned to the furry companion.

You often found yourself nestled comfortably against Bepos warm fur. As you lay there, you caught a glimpse of a certain captain out of the corner of your eye. You couldn’t help but notice that something was wrong. You would notice how his stares would linger on the two of you when you were cuddling, or how his attitude would be the slightest more passive aggressive if you were to talk to him after cuddling the polar bear. 

You brushed off any thoughts of jealousy, chalking up the more sour behavior to stress from future plans. As the days went by though, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was indeed something wrong with Law, yet every time you would confront him, you would be met with a short and sweet “nothing’s wrong.” 

‘Nothing’s wrong’ he claimed, yet those stares never stopped that constant upset mood never stopped. It’s as if he was jealous that you were cuddling Bepo or something… holy shit he was jealous that you were cuddling Bepo!

Once you put two and two together, you couldn’t help but find this all amusing. His denial of anything being wrong was slightly infuriating, but his lack of communication is something you would work on later. For now, your main focus is exploiting that newly discovered jealousy until he owns up to it.

You started purposefully avoiding Law as often as you could to cuddle with Bepo. Every time he would see you, you would be cuddled into the side of the polar bear. This only heightened his jealousy further and further with each passing day.

Today, the Polar Tang was surfaced, and the crew took the opportunity to go star gazing at night. All of you lay on the main deck, watching the stars above, and you of course were planted right in the arms of Bepo, your new favorite spot. The crew was passing around food and drinks, chatting and laughing under the night sky, until Law left the group early. He was quieter than normal tonight, and you were honestly wondering if you were starting to take this jealousy thing too far.

Then, a blue bubble encompassed the entire deck and suddenly, you were no longer on the main deck in Bepos arms, but you were in the captains quarters, in Laws lap.

You stammered in confusion, trying to make sense of the disorientation caused by the sudden teleportation. Law’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you into him. As if by instinct, you melted into his arms, your body molding into his as if it was the most natural thing in the world. You nuzzled your head into his neck, mumbling against his skin. “Are you okay?” The care for him evident in your tone.

He let out a small grunt in response, wrapping his arms around you tighter. “Just stay with me for a bit,” he muttered to you, a subtle vulnerability laced in his voice. 

With a hum, you settled further into his arms, taking in the scent of his cologne and the warmth of his body right against yours. The tension that had been building finally began to dissipate the more you settled into his touch. His tight grip around you softened, and you could feel his worries easing with the sigh he let out. It was as if all the weight of his jealousy had been lifted off his shoulders. 

You nestled closer to him, resting your head against his chest as you listened to his heartbeat. It’s moments like these where words are not needed, just each other's presence. He rested his head against your own.

Law broke the silence, “I’m sorry,” he murmured against your skin. “ “for acting so…” he trailed off, not quite sure how to articulate his feelings.

“Jealous?” you finished for him, your voice gentle as you looked at him with understanding. A pause filled the air as he took in that word. ‘Jealous’. Law hesitated for a moment before he finally nodded with reluctant agreement.

“Yeah, jealous.” he admitted, confirming your thoughts. 

You sensed his discomfort and shifted in his lap to get more comfortable. “You know,” you began, your voice tender as you reached up and brushed a stray hair from his face. “This is my favorite place. Right here, with you.” you punctuated your words by squeezing him tight. 

His eyes softened at your words, “Good,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper, “lets keep it that way.”

#nina responds~✦ #nina writes~✦ #one piece x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar d law x reader #one piece fluff #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader