#and could not focus at all & brain was all over the place constantly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sanakiras · 2 months

Text

IN THE DARK CORNERS

PAIRING — kim mingyu x reader | choi seungcheol x reader

WORD COUNT — 2.2k

SYNOPSIS — mingyu used to be your lover. now he has to watch from the sidelines as you’ve moved on to someone else.

TAGS — once again a college au, fem!reader, jealousy, explicit sexual content, voyeurism, pretty much just porn with no plot, semi-public sex, dom!cheol, read at ur own risk !!

mingyu would overall consider himself to be a smart guy.

he never needs to put a lot of effort into his classes to pass them, he’s quick-witted and pays attention to detail. everyone around him has always praised him for his intelligence.

but right now, he feels stupid. he has for a while at this point.

his jaw is clenched as he leans against the wall with a cup of beer in hand. normally he very much enjoys the parties hosted by his friends — today is a different case.

it’s not just anything that’s making him feel this way.

at the other side of the crowded, warm room stands his former teammate choi seungcheol. he was their team captain up until last year, having to resign from the position after suffering a leg injury, and he apparently hasn’t felt the need to return to the football team yet despite his leg being all healed up.

choi seungcheol is a nice guy. he can also be real damn scary if he wants to be.

he’s about two years older than him. mingyu found he was always easy to get along with — until two days ago, when he discovered you out of all people had started dating him.

you. his ex-girlfriend. you broke up with him a while back after a fight he honestly can’t even remember the words nor the cause of. it was bullshit. something that shouldn’t have happened but did.

somehow, he’d let you slip through his fingers. like many people, he failed to realize what he had until it was gone. failed to see the signs he was supposed to see until it was too late. he feels stupid because he’s always so fucking smart — until the one time he wasn’t.

he tried to get you back. you wouldn’t let him.

now all he can do is stare at you from the other side of the room and watch you kiss a guy that isn’t him. you’re all over him, sitting on his thigh, and he’s constantly got his hands on you, arm looped around your waist, fingers rubbing your clothed skin.

wonwoo suddenly comes up to him, nudging him in the side. “are you trying to kill the guy by looking at him?”

“hm?”

“seungcheol. green with envy much?”

mingyu shrugs. “maybe.”

“well, you’d probably be smart to make it less obvious,” wonwoo remarks before leaving, “for your own sake.”

the words leave a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. he wishes he could just stop looking at the two of you, wishes he could just stop thinking about it for a damn second.

he’s certainly not a lightweight, but even he suffers the consequences of taking too much alcohol. his head feels fizzy, and he loses focus for a second, only to realize you and your boyfriend are gone from your places by the couch.

looking around frantically, he suddenly catches the glimpse of the little red dress you’re wearing at the other side of the room — you’re going upstairs with him.

and he finds himself desperately eager to follow you. that’d be so wrong though, wouldn’t it? he’s not some stalker, obviously. he just wants to check things out.

or so he convinces himself.

his brain is against it, his heart has other plans.

his legs seem to have their own will. before he can stop himself, he’s walking up the stairs, cursing to himself when the hallway is somewhat empty — until he hears the noise of something clattering onto the floor two rooms further.

taking a few steps into the direction of where the sound came from, he briefly looks behind him to check whether anyone’s there, proceeding when there isn’t.

the moment he pushes the door open just a bit further, he spies the office supplies carelessly thrown on the floor, his ears catching onto the familiar sound of your soft laughter.

he takes a step forward, detecting motion at the other side of the bookcase. he’s able to hide right behind it, watching you lie down on the wooden surface from the open cracks of the shelves.

the tight dress on your body is hiked up by your boyfriend as his hands roam all over your body, the sounds of your shared kisses making mingyu feel warm, his cheeks flushing, adrenaline rushing through his veins.

he knows how much you love a good make-out session — he also knows you like to speed things up a little when you need to be touched.

he’s frozen in his spot behind the bookcase when he hears you let out those needy whimpers that would turn any man on like crazy.

“shit—i should probably be quiet.” you giggle with your hand half over your mouth while cheol has you pinned underneath him, right on top of the desk.

“i’d love to see you try.” he mutters to you, fingers already hooking on the fabric of your matching lacy, red panties.

the worst part is that mingyu remembers that pair — one of his favorites. you look stunning in that little red set.

but your new boyfriend doesn’t appear to be paying that much attention to your lingerie. you’re both panting, all hot and heavy, clearly not in the mood to take things slow right now.

he sinks down to his knees on the floor, fingers harshly digging into your thighs as he spreads your legs to give him the access he wants, and you so eagerly let him.

“so gorgeous, baby.” cheol whispers to you before burying his lips and nose into the wetness pooling between your legs.

mingyu feels himself growing harder when he hears you cry out, your back arching off the cold desk, his teeth digging into his lower lip.

with your dress pushed up to your upper chest and your panties discarded on the floor, you gasp for air, fingers pulling on his dark strands of hair. you won’t last long if he keeps this up.

the first loud noise escapes you when he suddenly slips his finger into you. “cheol!”

the man between your legs shows his disapproval. “c’mon, baby, keep quiet for me. you want me to keep going, right?”

“yeah, yeah—” you nod almost desperately, “—‘m sorry.”

he cocks his head as if to say, that’s what i thought.

sly fucker.

he’s got you in the palm of his hand though — especially when he dives right back in, eager to see you fall apart while pumping his fingers in and out of you.

mingyu is so lost in the sight that his hand travels down to his belt buckle almost automatically. he’s so rock-hard in his pants that he could cry.

it doesn’t take cheol long to get you so worked up that you’re about to cum — which is exactly when you beg for him to fuck you instead, claiming you just need him inside you.

and your boyfriend happily obliges.

with your legs hoisted over his shoulders, he hovers above your body, watching the way you gasp and whimper when he pushes himself inside you.

“so full, cheol—” you moan once he’s nearly balls deep inside you, biting your lip to keep the noise down.

“you can take a little more though, can’t you, sweetheart?” your boyfriend asks teasingly, the subtle mocking undertone making you shiver. you love it when he’s all dominant and cocky like this, and you love to play into it.

a lazy smile appears on your face. “depends on how hard you give it to me.”

he smirks, biting his plump lip as he picks up the pace. you hold onto him, relishing in the sound of his moans by your ear.

“always so greedy,” cheol muses, eyes shining as he scans your figure, “always wanting more.” he pushes into you with the last syllable, unable to hold down a grin at how breathlessly you gasp.

oh, the guy gives it to you good. something you absolutely deserve — mingyu just wishes it was him giving it to you instead.

he hates it. he hates how pretty you look in his arms, under him. he hates how you both look so fucking perfect. he hates how dirty and perverted he feels.

he hates that the thrill of possibly getting caught makes him harder.

he watches as seungcheol takes you fast and hard, his hand pumping his own cock at the same pace. your body welcomes the muttered sentences of praise; pulling his body as close as physically possible, spreading your legs a little wider, fingers digging into his back a little deeper.

mingyu knows you love your praise just as much as a bit of force, and your boyfriend seems to know it too. he leaves red marks over your body, sucking at your skin, pulling out for a moment to shove his fingers back in instead.

you’re a whiny, moaning mess as three of his long fingers pump in and out of you. “thought i told you to keep it down.”

“fuck—just feels so good, cheol—”

“i know, pretty girl. you’re doing so good.”

god, you’re just so engulfed in your need to be filled up that you’re willing to do anything for the man currently in between your legs, and he fucking knows it.

mingyu is obsessed with the way your cunt sucks in his fingers so easily. he can literally hear how wet you are — cheol’s quick fingers are squelching into your heat, thumb circling over your clit until all you can do is make sweet sounds into his mouth.

it all gets too much, and your hand reaches down to take a hold of his wrist, but his movements don’t falter. it takes less than a minute before you cum on his fingers, desperately clinging onto him. sharp overstimulation hits your body when he pushes his cock into you again, not allowing you to come down from your high.

the feeling makes you go insane. you clench on him as a reflex, and he groans in response because you’re just so damn tight, almost suffocating him.

his big hands are grabbing your waist, basking in the feeling of your warmth wrapped around him. you notice through your bliss that he’s getting more desperate, movement more erratic, kisses sloppier, breathing heavier — how you love seeing him fall apart.

“takin’ me so well.” he smiles, biting his lip as you rake your nails over his abdomen.

“mhm. ‘s all for you, baby.”

he physically can’t not cherish the way you gaze at him so lovingly while getting your back blown out. if anything, it’s a talent. “yeah? such a good girl for me.”

you capture his lips in another kiss, one that’s a little sweeter than before. his hair is soft, the roots of his strands a bit damp from the sweat, but you don’t care.

you’re mewling in your spot on the desk, every other thought you ever had thrown out the window. all you can focus on is cheol fucking you like his life depends on it.

his chest is then pressed up against yours, his one hand on the back of your head, holding you still and close while he gives you hard and deep strokes.

“shit.” he curses, getting closer now that you’re tightening up more.

he’s reaching down to touch your clit again, rubbing the sensitive spot, causing you to buck your hips against his.

“cum with me, cheol.” you beg him, your sharp nails digging into his shoulder blades, which always works well on him — it makes him so utterly weak.

it brings mingyu just as close to his release. he’s so lost in his lust that it almost feels like you’re saying the words to him and not seungcheol, so he lets his back rest against the wall as he gets himself off at the pleasure of watching you.

“i’m so close, baby.” cheol mutters, his thick brows knitting together once he throws his head back in pleasure.

your body shakes as you come undone underneath him, your arms wrapped around his back. your boyfriend can’t hold back any longer when he feels you hit your peak — his hips stutter, eyes squeezed shut as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, muffling his moans.

your secret spectator has to cover his mouth to avoid making any noise. his balls are tightening, sweat beading at the nape of his neck right before he pathetically cums in his pants, some of his release dripping on the floor.

his own chest still heaves as his eyes find the little drops of sweat rolling down cheol’s back, his eyes moving down to the sight of your boyfriend pulling out of you, leaving a trail of his cum seeping out of your pussy.

the sight is enough to make him hard again.

you’re panting in your place on top of the desk, still coming down from your high before your boyfriend speaks up — but his words aren’t directed at you.

“did anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stare?”

mingyu’s heart drops in his chest. shit, was it that obvious? he thought he did a good job at being relatively quiet.

now he’s left with two options of what to do next. either he owns up to it or gets the fuck out of here.

and he thinks to himself, fuck it. not like the situation could get any worse anyways.

so he steps forward, into the light.

thanks for reading! let me know if u liked it x

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

#kim mingyu x reader #choi seungcheol x reader #kim mingyu fanfic #choi seungcheol fanfic #mingyu x reader #seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #scoups fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #caratwritersclub #kim mingyu smut #choi seungcheol smut #scoups smut #mingyu smut #original post

886 notes · View notes

slytherinshua · 24 days

Text

YOU'RE WORTH IT

genre. fluff. period comfort. warnings. it's mentioned that reader had a toxic ex. anton and reader haven't been dating for too long. mentions of cramps and general period stuff but no blood. kissing. pairing. anton x fem!reader. wc. 981. request. no. a/n. written for @eternalgyu who is suffering :( i hope this helps even a little <33

“Are you sure this is… normal?” Anton questioned a little worried from the other side of the bed. You winced, not only from the excruciating pain you were experiencing, but the sudden guilt that hit you. Maybe you should have tried a little harder to keep your ‘ow’s from distracting your boyfriend from his work.

“Yeah, it’s normal— don’t worry.” You waved him off and rolled to your side so your back faced him, fighting back the tears that started to prick at your eyes. Was it normal for cramps to be this painful?

“Can I do anything to help?” Anton’s voice reached your ear again, this time a lot closer than before. He was peering over your curled up body with concern written on his face. Your face softened a little, and a little of the fear of being annoying washed away with Anton’s look.

Your ex-boyfriend had been… less than understanding whenever you got your period. He always complained about you bothering him or “bringing the mood down” whenever you couldn’t bring yourself to be your usual bright self. He seemed disgusted at even the thought of it and would constantly blame any normal frustration towards him on your period, even when you weren’t on it.

Months of that had quickly trained your brain to be self-conscious of it. You knew it was all normal, of course, but you had started trying to hide the fact that you were on your period whenever you could; almost as if it didn’t exist entirely.

Even admitting to Anton that it was your time of the month made you want to sink into the floor and disappear. You had expected him to be disgusted or confused or weirded out, but he wasn’t. Instead, he offered to go to the store to get anything you might need, which you politely refused— too embarrassed to make him go out of his way.

You shook your head, “I don’t want you to inconvenience yourself.”

Anton looked at you like you were crazy, “Inconvenience myself? But you’re the one in pain.”

You diverted your eyes from his, unsure what to do in this situation. Your brain was racing a mile a minute, too hesitant to accept his offer in case it backfired later. But Anton wasn’t that kind of person, right?

“And, besides, you’re worth any amount of inconvenience. I promise.” He persuaded gently.

“Okay.” You mumbled out. Anton smiled, his eyes crinkling before he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“I heard heating pads can help, right?” You could barely answer before he was rushing off to warm one up, and back before you knew it, placing it carefully on your stomach. The heat did feel nice against the pain, but it didn’t make it go away entirely. Anton seemed to notice when your eyes scrunched up as another painful cramp hit you.

“Is it not helping?” His voice came out softer than usual, a touch of anxiousness lacing his question. He was studying your face carefully, giving you his full attention. You weren’t used to someone being so patient with you.

“It is, but I don’t think there’s any way to make them go away entirely. I have to just wait it out.” You said quietly.

Anton frowned, “That’s not fair.”

His comment made you smile slightly, “It’s okay.”

“Is there anything else I can help with?”

“Distraction?” You suggested, a little skeptical whether it would actually work, but it was worth a shot.

“Hmm.” Anton thought for a second, giving you a glance before diving forward and capturing your lips without warning. You squeaked slightly from the shock before allowing yourself to focus on the feeling of his soft lips and less on the pain of your cramps. It was pretty effective, if you were being honest. It was easy for your brain to only focus on his lips and nothing else. But there was one problem: you didn’t have unlimited breath.

You pulled apart slightly breathless, and as soon as you didn’t have the distraction to focus on, you were hit with another painful cramp that had you whimpering and sinking deeper into the mattress. Your arms were still around Anton’s neck, clasped at the back, and you brought him down with you.

He shifted to the side quickly before he crashed on top of you and turned so he was facing you again. You were almost sure he would be sick of trying to think of ways to help after 2 attempts, but you were wrong.

He pulled you closer until you were right up against his chest, safely wrapped around his arms. He tapped on his phone for a couple seconds, clicking on the playlist he had made for you a couple weeks ago. The soft songs on it helped you relax immediately, and you snuggled a bit closer.

“Maybe if you tried falling asleep?” Anton suggested, and you nodded slowly.

Usually it was hard to fall asleep with the pain, but it was surprisingly easy when you were wrapped in Anton’s arms. He started humming quietly along with the music, one of his hands rubbing your back slowly at the same time.

You felt your eyelids droop and finally close entirely. Each time you had a cramp, you would tense up and curl closer to him, and he would hold you just a little bit tighter. Eventually, you were able to fall asleep, and Anton let out a relieved sigh. He hated seeing you in any kind of pain, especially when you seemed so afraid to even tell him about it.

He knew it would probably take more time for him to earn your complete trust, but he was more than willing to put in the work for it. A little inconvenience on his end was more than worth it. You were more than worth it.

↳ riize taglist: @eternalgyu,, @kangtaehyunzzz,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien,, @seolboba,, @cyberpunksunwoo,, @cosmicwintr,, @evalevaeva,, @lecheugo,, @wccycc,, @seunghancore

519 notes · View notes

sanspuppet · 1 month

Text

- MDNI smut drabble

dom!San x dom!Mingi x sub f. reader

W/T: hard rough sex, reader is their personal slut

Them two really enjoyed rearranging your guts, fucking your brains out so hard that you couldn’t even form a word and beg them to stop. However, even if you could they wouldn’t much care, oh no they wouldn’t ever stop until they’d be a hundred percent done with you. Most of the times you had sex with them, you ended up having all your body shaking like jelly, your ass cheeks burning like fire from their spank kink, your mind barely coherent enough to comprehend their speaking.

This was one of those nights, where you put yourself purposely on complete display for them two. Fuck, it was always a hard time holding back tears from the pain of their rough paces on you, but oh god, the pleasure was totally worth it.

Your arms and wrist were hurting from how long you’ve been on all fours for them, trying to hold back the tears as your throat was fully occupied by San’s girthy length. Even though you wanted to focus the fullest on his pleased expressions to give yourself the pride of being probably the best slut he’s ever had, it was pretty hard given the rough pace you were constantly hammered with by Mingi from behind.

You could feel his nails scratching messily your ass cheeks as he tried hard to keep your hips still. Low growls and profanities rolled out of his tongue, every thrust getting him closer to his desperately awaited orgasm. Meanwhile San was still halfway, surely you were good at sucking his dick, but your sloppy pace wasn’t enough to make him come. He pulled your hair, keeping your head in place as he dived into your mouth with a faster pace. God, his feline eyes looking down at you with nothing but arousal made you feel shivers all over body, goosebumps making you tremble.

Finally you felt it, that irreplaceable feeling of being bred. The warmth of Mingi’s cum spurting in you was incredibly satisfying, his long groan and his hands sliding down your ass meant that he was done. Mingi left another casual spank before getting up from the bed and headed towards the hotel’s bathroom to clean himself up.

San followed his moves with his eyes, before looking at you again, he let go of your hair and moved behind you in less than two seconds, eager to finish as well.

You didn’t even have enough time to recover from Mingi that you had your back pressed against the mattress just at the right angle for San to pound into you even rougher than Mingi did. You could see your veins pulsing on the back of your hands as you gripped hard the sheets, biting your lips as you were trying to focus more on clenching around San’s cock rather than simply let him take your exhausted cunt. Little thing that made him cum quickly, a matter of a few thrust and he was already releasing his seeds into you, mixing with Mingi’s. You were so full that their sperm started leaking out of you right when San came, surely a hot sight for him to finish with. He groped quickly one of your cheeks to feel your soft bottoms, before standing up and head towards the bathroom as well. Letting your sore body finally rest on the soft mattress of that 5 star hotel.

477 notes · View notes

unoislazy · 5 months

Text

Jealous Mizu Headcanons

Disclaimer: A tad bit of NSFW is included in this so be warned

A/N: again, i apologize for not getting anything super extensive out. I thank you all for being so patient and so sweet!!

————————————————————

Mizu’s not the type to be outwardly jealous.

She’ll get jealous but she won't say much about it, she’ll just let it fester inside her quietly until it gets to be too much and she needs an outlet.

More often than not that outlet is fighting (more on that later)

She would never think to label you as “hers”, you’re not an object that she can possess.

However, when it comes to other people being around you, she finds it very tempting to start.

Before either of you confessed, you had already made up a plan to act like you were a couple to avoid unwanted stares from men and women alike.

Turns out Mizu enjoyed that much more than she thought she would.

God help the person that decides to flirt with you while she's around

If that person happened to be Taigen? Forget the duel that man's dying TONIGHT

Mizu of course would recognize that you’re your own person and you can choose to be with whoever you want… but the thought of you choosing TAIGEN of all people is not a thought that would allow her to sleep well at night.

She would claim its for no other reason than she thinks you deserve better than a man who abandoned his engagement for honor

She wouldn’t be wrong but you wouldn’t have even been interested in Taigen in the first place so her coming up with all these reasons why you shouldn’t choose him would just be outing herself.

She refuses to come to terms with the fact that she feels jealous about anything

She would be deep in denial for as long as she could manage until someone finally calls her out on it.

Her jealousy causes her to become a tad bit possessive

She’s not the most secure person in the world when it comes to relationships no matter how hard she pretends to be

She would go above and beyond to try and make sure no one was going to try and lure you away from her.

NSFW Headcanons

(Pretty vague in favor of remaining gender neutral)

Remember how I said “More often than not that outlet is fighting”

Well the alternative to that involves you

It would be less about being possessive over you and instead it would be her way of proving to you she can give you more pleasure than anyone else

And she would without a doubt prove that successfully

She might not be incredibly experienced but you wouldn't have been able to tell that by the way she treated you

Despite her feelings she would actually be extremely gentle with you

It’s not your fault she's mad that other people also find you attractive, so she’d have no reason to be angry with you.

Which means praise. Lots and lots of praise

Constantly reminding you how pretty/handsome you look while beneath her

What, you thought she wasn’t going to pin you down? That’s like her signature move at this point, she’s GOING to be on top.

She would take an opportunity handed to her to tease you and usually that meant one of two things

She teased you with compliments

Or she teased you by stopping what she’s doing all together and having you beg for her to continue

Just cause she’s not mad at you doesn’t mean she can’t mess with you a little

Considering before this point she wouldn’t have been so open about her feelings you would’ve been taken by surprise

She would find it incredibly entertaining if you got embarrassed by all the sudden attention she started giving you

As rough as she deals with things in her everyday life I think she’d be a service dom honestly, in this specific instance at least.

She wants you and she wants you to know that.

She wants to sear it into your brain so any time you even so much as look at someone else all you’d get is a flashback to how good you felt with her.

She would not let you do anything for her, she wants to focus on you and only you

She would just enjoy knowing she was making you feel good and that’s all she’d need

If you tried keeping quiet, she would persuade you into letting go, she wants other people to know that she was the one making you feel good

Needless to say if Taigen had attempted to flirt with you before, he definitely knew not to now.

1K notes · View notes

planet-dusk · 1 year

Note

i sent this skz x 9th member!reader to another creator but forgot who it was so i’m sending it here too i guess. enjoy

i féel like the boys would def be little pervs towards their girl member. like “cuddling” her in the car on the way to places, having her sit in their lap during lives and stuff, constantly watching her boobs in tank tops during practice, etc something tells me chan or minho would be the biggest pervs out of the older boys but they know how to be subtle with it. meanwhile jisung and maybe jeongin are the the young ones who go absolutely crazy over anything. like her boobs could be out a little bc her tops are flimsy so they grab a handful and are lowkey fondling her but using the excuse that it’s helping keep her boobs in her bra or something. she’d def be very clueless but not entirely. like she knows that bc she’s a girl and they’re all guys, they have urges too. walking around the house in short and tight clothes, asking sexual questions, singing and dancing to sexy songs, etc they’d probably have a corruption kink too because of her “innocent but not really” aura. she’s innocent in the way that she’s just clueless when anyone so much as hits on her, likes her, try’s to make a move, etc

idk this was a while ago so maybe it’s just ramblings from my brain.

🏷️ perversion, noncon somno for jisung's part, corruption, fingering, oral (f + m), masturbation, unprotected sex, mc is called baby, kitten, doll, pretty, toy, slut

as the oldest and the leader of the group chan should know better. but you're so cute when you wake up early and your eyes are still puffy with sleep. he can't help but let his gaze linger on your bare legs, picturing his face between your thighs. sometimes when you join him on channie's room he'll run his teasing fingers over your clothed slit, enjoying the way you squirm and hide your hot face in your hands, pretending you're camera shy.

"keep still, baby. you know how much the fans love it when you look all cute and flustered."

minho is always helpful, offering you private dance lessons to hone your skills. he can be strict with the other members but he's noticed how embarrassed you get when he praises you. "you're doing so well, kitten," he whispers into your ear while he adjusts your position. you avert your eyes and try to focus on the way your body moves. he's smirking at you through the mirror, his hands skimming your ass more than necessary. when you're all warmed up and sweaty he bends you over and grinds his hard cock against your clothed pussy. "let's stretch some more."

"i know you can do it," changbin encourages when your voice cracks again. he turns off his laptop and enters the recording booth. "hey, don't cry," he wipes your tears away with his thumbs and you sniffle. you're fucking up your lines. badly.

"do you trust me?" he asks and you nod, letting him spread your legs. with a puzzled face you watch him crouch down and nuzzle the inside of your thigh. "you just need to relax, baby... you're straining too much when you get anxious. let me help you."

hyunjin is your roommate. he's a calm and quiet guy so you don't mind having him around. but on some nights you wake up to muffled gasps and groans coming from his side of the room. if you didn't know any better you'd have sworn some of his moans sound like your name. afraid to let him know you're awake you stay quiet and stare at the ceiling. your own hand slips into your pyjama pants to rub quick circles on your swollen clit, desperate to cum in time with him.

"ssh, it's me," jisung shushes you with a hand clasped over your mouth. you blink at him groggily, feeling two of his fingers slipping in and out of your wet hole with ease. he must've been playing with you for a while. "hyunjin's taking a shower and told me to wake you up." he snuggles against your back and you gasp into his palm when he replaces his fingers with his thick cock. "be a good doll for me now, pretty. we don't have much time before he comes back."

felix is the first to turn your relationship with them into something more than strictly collegial. "we're not colleagues, or friends, or family," he tugs you onto his lap and purrs into your ear, "we're something more." his fingers reach into your shorts and press against your clothed slit, making your head spin. "feel how soaked these panties are for me, doll? you know i'm telling the truth. what we've got is something special."

seungmin is your vocal training partner. when you stay late in the studio to practice he stays with you. his unconventional training methods are your little secret; he'd told you the others can't know a thing because they would get jealous, so you do as told. seungmin makes you feel special. you know he'd do everything for his favorite member.

"sluts like you need to have their throats trained," he groans and thrusts his cock deeper. "how else are you ever going to hit those notes?"

jeongin can never keep his hands off you when you're getting dressed for your stages. he gropes at your tits and tugs on your clothes. "these skirts keep getting shorter," he shakes his head and frowns. "everyone in the audience will be able to see your safety shorts. but you know you belong to us, don't you?" he grins and you squeal when his fingers slip between your thighs and locate your clit with ease. the barest hint of pressure against the fabric has you panting, proving his point. "no matter how many people cheer for you, you're our toy."

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids hard hours #skz hard hours #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids headcanons #skz headcanons #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #tw: perversion #tw: noncon #;skz blurbs

2K notes · View notes

mo0nfairy · 1 year

Note

I gotta see a part of yandere Leon where reader remembers him as they get through los Iluminados maybe some yandere in action lol (at least only if you want to!)

part 1. part 3. part 4.

tw :: obsessive!leon, yandere!leon, mention of drugs, framing, handcuffs, stalking, trauma, guns, wounds, heights, being locked up.

⸺ ooooooo !!! i've been meaning to make a part 2 of my last ask, but had zero idea where to go from where i ended. i also had played a bit of RE2 before the remake came out recently, so a piece of my brain has been kept up in raccoon city for a little while. i would love to express my thoughts and mesh these two games together !!

let's start with where we left off in los iluminados.

upon having your handcuffs taken off by the stranger who is far too close for comfort, you pace backwards, far away as you can get from this insanity of a man. his attitude abruptly shifts into something softer, a major contrast to the emotional breakdown he had just seconds prior. he realizes you're afraid — afraid of him. and as much as the mere thought destroys him to the point of breaking down again, he shoves a sob back down his throat and keeps his distance, despite how desperately he wishes to close it.

6 years. 6 years. he has been waiting over 2,190 miserable days for this single moment. all the sleepless nights spent searching the world for you; all the hopeless nights spent clinging to pillows, praying by some miracle it will somehow become you. every second of these past 6 years has been spent dreaming of this single moment. and even though your reunion wasn't the teary-eyed, passionate kiss in the rain he had hoped for, you are still here with him nonetheless.

and like hell will he let you slip from his grasp again.

with as much time as his needy self would grant him being physically away from you, he is soon at your side. leon then wraps you in his jacket and you swear you hear a harsh gasp escape from him when his finger accidentally makes contact with the skin of your neck. despite your negligence and more-than-obvious discomfort, you do appreciate the new warm embrace after a week of cold rain and damp clothes. it smells exactly like him, as well.

and with that, he's got a gentle hand hovering over your lower back as he guides you through the depths of this hellhole. and piece by piece, memories that had been buried in your brain begin to disinter themselves.

for example, you got a staring problem bro?? for the entirety of the time you spend with leon in los iluminados, there is literally never a single moment where this mans eyes are not on you. half of the time it is to ensure you are unharmed, but the other half consists of him staring in complete and utter awe. it's kind of hard to focus on surviving when leon is constantly staring into your soul. but it has just been so fucking long since he has been able to see you in all of your glory, so please excuse him for any inappropriate behavior on his end.

also, you knew you have lived in raccoon city for a short period of time before the events of RE2 happened, but like everything else that relates to that damned place, you couldn't remember a thing.

except now. leon's gaze uncovers a memory you have of yourself being held in one of the RPD holding cells. the atrocious scent, the uncomfortable bench, the paint peeling from the walls. you try and scrutinize what on earth you could have been arrested for, but your attempts are merely futile. but unbeknownst to you, your arrest was nothing but bullshit. and to say leon has had a crush on you from the second you moved into RC would be nothing short of the truth. so, by pulling some strings, the rookie had managed to lock you up for what he calls 'bonding time'. he'll place a chair backwards in front of your cell, prop his arms on the backrest and admire you with your full attention finally on him (instead of just stalking you around town).

two things you now remember about this man: he was so adorably baby-faced back then and my god, was he awkward. he still cannot talk for shit and i mean this with my whole heart. his sweet, innocent eyes gaze at you while he tries to play it cool, pulling cards like "yeah, i workout" and "you come here often?". all as if he hadn't personally arrested you for possession of illegal substances he planted himself. (nothing will happen to you, obvi. he just desperately needed a second alone with you to show off how charismatic he can be. or try to be, at least).

and for the short second of seeing him after 6 years, his eyes were just devoid of any life. you had assumed the trauma inflicted from that night had caused such a contrast in his physical appearance, and you would be right to assume that. but the soulless eyes, monotone voice, and lackluster personality was entirely due to your disappearance. days upon days of the lonely, eternal torment destroyed his sanity. however, that illustrious boy you can barely remember seems to have returned with your presence.

another thing you can't believe you had forgotten was how intense his stare is. the way he stares is illegible and sometimes overwhelming. he shivers in his stance, whimpers at your every move, and his mind runs rampant with all sorts of obsessive declarations of love. although it may seem creepy to others and especially yourself, do not fret. he has no ill intent towards you, god he could never! this puppy-dog of a man is simply marveling at your sheer existence.

you are able to retrieve another lost memory when you have to jump from a window and into his arms (for those who say he won't be able to catch you, stfu. have ya'll seen how beefy his arms are??? anyways....). the secret agent you have grown to like during your stay in los iluminados jumps down marvelously (most def showing off his james-bond-esque agilities to you). he now watches from below as you stare at the distance beneath you in trepidation. this distrust you have — he is going to travel to the ends of the universe to fix it. no matter what.

you begin to ponder, he has savagely brutalized all threats in your path and held your hand as if he were holding the world all in the same breath. you should trust him, especially after witnessing the pure display of loyalty he has for you.

"don't be afraid, y/n. i'll catch you, i promise!" there is 10000% a way to walk through the house and down the stairs to get to him, but ofc he's not gonna tell you. why would he willingly throw away the opportunity to be your knight in shining armor?

"you will?" your voice is full of apprehension. his stare on you feels like the same bullets he's forced upon your attackers.

"always."

with that, you rip the bandaid off and jump from the ledge. and leon was most certainly not lying. you land safely in his embrace and he wraps his arms tightly around your form. and to finally have you so close, after so, so long of devastatingly praying he could feel you once more.......... if he had a tail, it would for sure be wagging so fast it would morph into a blur. and the way he holds you is different, as if his gentle nature is reserved for you and you only (which it is. this is literally him in a nutshell).

and when you had instinctively buried your face into his neck upon landing, clinging to him out of fear of hitting the ground, he literally melts. i'm serious, he literally just 🫠🫠🫠🫠. the faint hum of laughter and adoration that escapes his throat breaks you out of your state of shock. you made it safely to the ground without breaking every bone in your body, hooray! (as if there is a single reality in existence where leon would ever allow that to happen, but i digress).

you meet his gaze and there is that all-too familiar stare he gives you. leon's arms holding onto you like a lifeline uncovers a memory you have of yourself being held like this all those years ago. you can't recall exactly where in raccoon city you were, but you can remember how humiliated you were when you tripped over a crack in the pavement and ate shit. there was the fairest of scrapes against your shin, but the mortification hurt far more than any wound. while you dust yourself off and attempt to ignore the burning stares of pedestrians, a shout of your name sparks your attention.

the RPD gear and besotted eyes you're met with could be no other than that baby-faced rookie. you ponder of what he was doing on this side of town. was it a simple coincidence you had run into each other? or perhaps, had he followed you? just when you think you can't feel more embarrassed, leon gets down on one knee and dramatically inspects your wound. and my god, he acts like you were shot or something. he visibly shudders from the sight of your leg; people begin to gather around the commotion. with pure ease, he then scoops you into his arms to bring you to safety. you can feel his heart pound like a machine gun beneath the palm of your hand.

despite the humiliation deprived from this event, you fortunately are free from anything mortifying in los iluminados. however, leon doesn't seem to understand when to take a hint.

"uh... you can put me down now." you come out of your memory to thrash in his grasp and avoid his intense gaze, but your prince charming seems to still be caught in his y/n-filled daze.

after a few long seconds, your comment seems to finally reach his brain. "huh?" his response is faint and you almost don't hear it.

you repeat yourself and begrudgingly, leon then slowly puts you back onto your feet, savoring the last few seconds spent with you in his arms. exactly where you belong. you can only fear how much more suffocating affection you'll have to endure before you can finally remember what happened that night.

i think someone legit needs to slap me across the face and bring me back into reality cause holy shit...... i went WAYY too far with this. my brain is a mess thank u for reading.

i have more thoughts about this........ just incase u were curious........ ;)

#resident evil 4 #re4 #re4 remake #resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #yandere leon kennedy #yandere resident evil #yandere #gn reader #gender neutral reader #venus’ brain #moonfairy

2K notes · View notes

armpirate · 10 months

Text

Is it the water or is it me? || JJK

pairing: Jungkook x fem!reader

w.c.: 2.3k

Warnings: Smut, public sex, unprotected sex, fingering, handjob.

Summary: You and Jungkook have been working together for quite some time, which ended up with him growing a crush on you that was one sided. Or so he thought.

There you were again, walking around with that radiant smile that made everyone instantly smile at you, as if you brought with you a ray of sunshine in your pocket. Jungkook wasn’t sure about the rest, but he for sure thought his morning would get better only with the idea of seeing you there.

He wasn’t sure of when his crush on you started, but he knew that something clicked in his brain when you first stepped in the office, starting your practices there. And he remembered how hard it was for him to focus on something else when his boss assigned him to be your mentor. He tried to keep his focus on the screen, but his eyes kept running over your body, tracing the subtle way your curves formed under your floral dress.

And while he thought it was a temporary attraction because you were the new thing, it only kept evolving as you grew closer together.

As time went by, you two became the type of coworkers that would be constantly together in the workplace, and that would get more touchy than you should -sometimes his hand would reach to your nape, under your hair, to give it a playful and soft squeeze; sometimes it was you the one who touched his arm or playfully laid your head on your shoulder as you laughed together. Not to mention those “colleagues dates” you would have randomly, out of the office, just to catch up with rumors and gossip when you weren’t on the same shift. And more than once, Jungkook finished the day feeling guilty for not taking the chance on you. He wasn’t sure whether you’d feel comfortable or not. He could easily be misinterpreting your too friendly behavior. Maybe you were like that with everyone you were close to -although he didn’t see you acting that way with anyone else from the company, whether it was a man or a woman.

You both were attending the annual company dinner your boss prepared at the end of the year, but even then he knew nothing would change. And chances of him leaving earlier were high. Confirming that idea when you showed up with a tight black dress that lifted higher on your thigh when you sat next to him. His hand wanted to reach to your skin, and the amount of times he had to stop himself from doing it was insane.

His mind tried to concentrate on other things, as he desperately engaged in conversations with the others, until you laid your hand on his thigh, supporting your body when you leaned closer, pressing your breasts on his arms when you tried to reply to the man who was sitting next to him. If he didn’t know you, he’d have thought you were doing it on purpose.

Well, it seemed like he didn’t know you indeed, because your intention was pretty obvious. And it might have been for a few months already. Always meeting up with him, trying to finish your hang out with a kiss even. Yet you always came back disappointed when he left after giving you a friendly hug.

You went back to your seat, earning a sigh of relief from the person on your left as he moved uncomfortably, noticing one of his hands was trying to place his pants properly, before he tried to completely hide the lower part of his body under the table.

The rest of the dinner went by as a rough challenge for him, trying to test his limits before he jumped on you in front of everyone. Although all that control would only last until you all moved your party to a club near the restaurant you were at. Having to see you dancing with random guys all night wasn’t what he was planning at all, and he blamed himself for staying longer than he was intending to only because you insisted on him going.

During one of those glances he aimed at you, he was sure he caught you looking at him over the guy’s shoulder, and he swore your eyes squinted because of the smile you were hiding when his jaw clenched.

You were playing with him that night. And that annoyed him just as much as it turned him on.

Looking around him, making sure neither of your colleagues would mind your business -either because they were already too drunk or because they were somewhere else-, he started walking in your direction.

“Y/n, I’m going home” he screamed over the music.

He didn’t have to tell you, he could’ve sent you a text as he left… Yet he walked over to you, in a little hope you’d leave with him.

You frowned your eyes, finally stepping back from the blond guy that was still having his hands on you “Already?” you frowned confused “It hasn’t even been an hour since we came”.

One hour of seeing you flirt and be surrounded by men constantly, while he stared from afar hoping he had as much confidence as they did. “I don’t feel well” he lied.

Convinced you’d just shrug your shoulders and turn again, he was surprised when you held his wrist and dragged him to the restrooms, leaving behind the man you’d been dancing with for the past fifteen minutes. His feet battled to keep up with the speed of your steps, being surprised by how you were walking that fast so neatly while wearing heels.

You entered the ladies restroom, being welcomed by a few surprised looks from the women that were retouching their makeup. He was waiting for you to speak, but you had no intentions to. You knew he was feeling fine, and what bothered him was the fact that you paid no attention to him all night. You were acting bittersweet on purpose, just to get a reaction from him. Getting some water on your hands, only making them humid enough, you spreaded the tiny drops on his forehead, drenching his locks a bit when you pushed his bangs back. Your fingers felt so good when you lowered them on his cheeks, and dangerously close to his lips.

“Feeling better?” Jungkook nodded, eyes closing under your touch “Is it the water or is it me?”.

Your question made him open his eyes wide, surprised by the suggestive tone you were using. Although he didn’t know that smirk would make it way worse. “Y/n…” he whispered. “Because if it’s me, I think there are better ways to make you feel good” your doe eyes, feeling so innocent in contrast with your voice was making it difficult for his brain to work properly.

He wasn’t sure if alcohol was speaking on your behalf, but he discarded that idea when your breath smelled fruity from the only drink you’ve gotten ever since dinner started.

This time he was the one dragging your body to one of the cubicles, pressing your body to the door he had just locked. Both of his hands on both sides of your head, as he leaned over you to know what was up with your attitude that night “You’re making it so difficult for me to hold back”, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

It was ironic he was the one saying that, when he reached out to you in the middle of the dance floor to make sure you wouldn’t leave the place with that other guy.

“Who says you should hold back?” you raised an eyebrow, getting back control on the conversation.

His neck flinched when one of your hands reached his nape, digging inside his locks, at the same time your warm breath was gently caressing his throat. His cock grew bigger inside his pants as his skin welcomed the humidity of your tongue, tracing his jaw. “I want this just as much as you do, Kook” you whispered when you reached his ear.

Your voice sent dangerous alarms into his brain, something that he wasn’t able to control before he was cupping your face in his hands to lean into a sloppy and messy kiss. Feeling the taste of your saliva, mixed with the pineapple flavor of your drink, on his tongue was driving him crazy. Your hands tugging his blue shirt, and digging under it was rotting his brain with full images of everything he wanted to do to you. You didn’t know what you started.

His tongue twirled around yours, while your lips sucked on his like your life depended on it. You both had wanted this for so long, and you were finally giving in to all your wishes.

Jungkook barely gave you time to process the kiss, before he was already attacking your neck with wet open mouth kisses. Hands sneaking down your back to squeeze your ass and keep you in place. You still had room to move though, letting the thin strips of your dress fall off your shoulders, just to get your arms out of them and be able to lower your dress, exposing your tits.

Attracted to them like a magnet, his lips closed around one of your hard nipples, while his tattooed hand pinched and pulled your other button. He kept switching, making sure he’d get enough taste of the both of them.

Even if you were drunk in pleasure and excitement, too absorbed in how your clit throbbed for attention, you went to his pants instead, unzipping it and lowering them just enough to let his hard cock jump free. His teeth digged in your sensitive button as soon as your thumb started circling around his tip, getting it wet with his own precum. His cock only escaping from your fingers momentarily when he took your panties off, and circled his wrist with them.

Jungkook made sure to get his fingers wet and ready before they slid through your folds, deviously caressing you until they reached your needy clit. He felt how tight you were when he dug them deeper down your entrance, and he could only think of how it was better than he ever had imagined. You held back your moan, finally feeling being stretched by him, your walls hugging him tight and perfectly, while your brain could only picture the way he was so deep inside you that only the character on his knuckles would be the only thing visible. “You’re so tight, baby” he whispered, slowly moving his fingers in and out.

“Just imagine how tight I’ll feel around your cock” you replied back with a smirk, hearing him groan when your fingers started working on his cock again. Both of you kept moving in sync, as if it were a little heads up for what was to come.

Jungkook started walking backwards, with his fingers still stretching your pussy as much as he was able to. He dragged you on his lap when he sat on the toilet, making you straddle him. He was eager to feel you, and it was written all over his face when you dropped his cock.

Lips parted, holding back the moan that came out as a gap when you felt full again, feeling every inch of his cock invade you and stretch you out so perfectly. Both of you groaning low when your pubes finally touched, while you gave each other time to adjust to that new sensation.

Although, not even a few seconds later, Jungkook was urging you to move, fingers digging in your flesh as he pushed you upwards. Every move of your body was making him like he was in heaven, as your insides kept hugging him. Your hands held onto his shoulders, trying to get used to that new sensation that made little stars float in front of your eyes.

You felt his hips raise, trying to get deeper into you, trying to hit that right spot that would make your knees weak and barely possible to hold back your moans. Your lower lip hid under your teeth, which were biting hard on your skin, trying to keep any moan from escaping while Jungkook kept groaning against your neck and throat. Far from making you stop, though, it only encouraged you to go faster, making the tank behind him move constantly, hitting the wall and joining the sounds of your flesh clapping against each other.

“You feel so fucking good” he said, “Way better than I could ever have imagined” his lips let out a groan, and seemed like he was more careless about being heard than you were. “Fuck, keep riding my cock that way” Jungkook kept moving his hips up against you “You like it?”.

“Fuck, yes” you finally moaned lowly, moving even faster when your pussy started clenching around his cock.

That ticklish feeling in your belly was going hard on you, just a few more moves and you’d feel it showering over you, from head to toe. “Cum, baby. Cum with me” he managed your hips, controlling your movements with both of his hands, until you both exploded together.

You hugged him tight, hiding your face in his neck, biting it hard just to keep your moan from sounding louder than it already is, when you felt that sticky liquid fill your loads just as fast.

“Fuck, baby” he sighed, trying to get his breathing back to normal “Shit” he threw his head back. “I can’t believe I’ve missed on this for so long”.

You smiled against his neck, feeling exactly the same way he was “Well, I think we should make up for the wasted time tonight”.

“Let’s get out of here”

#ff #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkookxreader #jk #bts #kookie #smut #jungkook smut #jungkook pov #coworkers #one shot #armpirate

701 notes · View notes

saintmurd0ck · 7 months

Text

lakeside dreamin'

masterlist

pairing: jedi general anakin skywalker x f!reader

summary: anakin reminisces about your lives together while he's away fighting in the clone wars

warnings: heavy angst, mentions of canon events in TCW, canon typical mentions of warfare, some smut/spice, mentions of sex, minors DNI 18+ only

a/n: to the one anon who requested this maybe a year ago? i saw clone wars anakin and it was over for my brain 🫠 anyway love you guys and leave a comment or reblog if you liked this! 🥺

song pairing: love on the brain (rihanna)

The war was taking its toll.

Day after day, planet after planet, all Anakin knew now was his place on the battlefield. And his role in leading the victory for the Jedi and the Republic, even though their dogma preached peace, not violence. Every skirmish brought a new kind of horror to his once uncomplicated life, whether it was watching Separatist droids and clone troopers alike, cut down as easily as marsh reeds, or the simple fact that his relationship with the Force was dwindling towards something impure. Something he couldn’t make sense of, and would surely raise more questions than answers if he were to confide in his Masters. It wasn’t that he contemplated reaching towards the Dark side, or thought of the kind of evil only the Sith could endure; it was more like an isolating numbness that spread from within, and before long, Anakin felt the cloud settle over his mind.

He was tired of seeing smoke — the kind that billowed in every direction, stinking of despair and lost hope on his front, despite the war turning to the Republic’s favour. It was the sound of unending blaster fire and the repetitive ignition of his lightsaber that haunted his nightmares, and with only the company of his clone legion, his Padawan Ahsoka and the occasional appearance from Obi-Wan, he felt himself starting to slip.

He was overwhelmed, and encumbered with burden.

Never before had he experienced such guilt, anger and suffering — towards his army, towards the civilians caught in the crossfire, and towards his relationship with you.

The secret life the two of you led, away from the Order, felt like something out of another galaxy, another lifetime. It was as if eons had passed since he’d last seen you, and yet the world was constantly evolving — not towards freedom, but into a more destructive version of its past. Even for a Jedi General (and, one could argue, because he was a Jedi General), Anakin had little comfort, and much less sway in which systems he visited and what he took part in. Seeing you was absolutely out of the question, but it wasn’t like he bothered to even ask, out of fear of inviting a lecture from Obi-Wan, or Maker-forbid, an audience with Master Yoda.

At least things like facilitating training for the Onderon rebels allowed him to feel more of himself, and to an extent, a sort of unity with the Council, but all of that was quickly replaced by the more sinister side of the Separatist Alliance, such as the trainwreck on Zygerria. Liberation didn’t exist there. Not until Anakin showed up.

It was these events that really compelled him to look inwards, to not just seek the Force’s guidance, but to use it in tandem with a coping mechanism that would get him through the war.

And so the vignettes began. Slowly, at first.

It started off as little glimpses of your life together, slices of euphoric nostalgia that weaved their way into Anakin’s being. He didn’t realise just how much he yearned for you; not simply the way your skin felt on his, but the pureness of your energy, the reminder that good truly did exist in this world. As much as these images were a solace to his sanity, they brought about a sense of malaise. Contrition, actually, if he sought the Force for the purpose of clarity. Even though it all existed in his head, allowing himself these indulgences felt like once again, he was breaking Code.

But could it really have been that bad, if it honed his focus? If it drew him back to the bigger picture, of the why? Reminding himself of who it was he fought for didn’t erase the atrocities, but it gave him that flicker of hope, knowing that the sum of his actions equalled a better world for you.

And some selfish, miniscule part of him figured that if he could lead the victory, he’d be pardoned when the Order inevitably found out about the life the two of you shared. It isn’t as if no-one already knew. He was sure Ahsoka was aware. Rex, too. He doubted when it came to Obi-Wan, but then again very little got past his Master.

While the memories of you lay fresh before his eyes, they seemed to sharpen at specific points throughout the day; often in the thick of battle, or when he woke up in the middle of the night, drenched in a cold sweat, nothing but thin shafts of moonlight illuminating his body. It’s like they were stitched perfectly amongst the real action, scattered at perfect intervals that jerked his body into manoeuvre.

The sweetest images had always featured the lake.

Armed with nothing more but his wits, his back pressed against the cold, wet stone in a cave on Vanqor, he reminisced about that first night with you by the lakeside. The sweet smell of wildflowers carried in the breeze, heightened by his affinity for the Force. He recalled the gentle lapping of the waves on the shore, and how the two moons cast their milky glow upon the shimmering surface of the water. And you — radiant, almost ethereal in the soft light, and the way your lips brushed against his neck, filling him with the kind of heat that flooded all at once. Not even the screech of the pursuing gundark could have interrupted this moment in time. He felt his breathing go ragged, because he remembered what happened next. He gritted his teeth, thinking about the way he moved inside you, and how you tangled your fingers in his hair, pressing chaste kisses to his mouth, his chest, whispering his name in sinful bliss. The gundark didn’t stand a chance. Not when Anakin’s motivation for getting out alive laid in sweet promise, embedded in these visions.

His name felt the most natural rolling off your tongue, nevermind that that was truly the last real thing he possessed, unmarred by time and the influence of the Jedi. In that moment, when you’d taken him over the edge with you, crying his name so loud he swore someone had heard, he knew he’d give it over to you if you’d asked.

He thought of the lake again when he was in Felucia, crouched low amongst the sillum. His lightsaber grew heavy in his hand, the ridges suddenly awkward in his palm, but the grip he’d started to lose on his lifeline gave rise to something he couldn’t ignore.

It was another temperate day and the sun had created the most brilliant reflections on the surface of the lake. With the grasses and trees swaying in the wind, Anakin closed his eyes, reaching out with the Force. He didn’t prod or poke, but rather he cast a wide net, a delicate caress, to connect with the life that teemed. It sang to him in a multi-layered harmony, acting as a prominent reminder that the Force flowed in all living things. And when his eyes fluttered open, he watched you carefully as you walked towards the water, your feet crunching on the smooth pebbles that made up the beach. You turned around to give him a dazzling smile, moving with deliberation to slip off your clothes. Your laughter echoed in the crisp air as you dived into the lake, disappearing under a swathe of emerald green, only to resurface in the middle with a large grin plastered to your face. He didn’t hesitate to jump in, to shed his clothing on the spot. A shudder ran down his spine at the thought of what happened shortly after.

Sometimes it was hard to return to the present, to remember that he’d sleep alone that night while you were only just waking up, systems away, most likely after another fitful slumber. There were times where he thought these visions would serve no other purpose than to derail him, when the temptation of your touch shadowed his desire for victory. These moments guided him to channel the Force within, so as to remind himself of why he was doing this in the first place. Because it was more than just a coping mechanism. It was an anchor. A thrumming pulse point. A gentle acknowledgement of the life he wanted to come back to.

It’s then that he wondered when enough would be enough, when the war would come to a stalemate, as it so often did in their history. The tide was turning, and he knew it.

And there it was again, that kernel of hope, that ember of light that shone in the depths of his soul. Even reduced to a ghost in his memory, you were tangible, so tangible now. He wouldn’t let the Separatists win. He couldn’t, because there was too much at stake. And so if thinking of you, in these ways, helped him remember that, he wasn’t going to stop.

Not for anyone.

#anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker angst #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker fic #star wars smut #star wars fanfiction #the clone wars fanfiction #anakin x reader #anakin smut #anakin fanfiction #x reader #rhi writes 💻

450 notes · View notes

trumpkinhotboy · 9 months

Text

“I’ll keep an eye on you”

Pairing: Jacob Black x Reader

Type: Not requested

Genre: A bit spooky, but mostly fluffy and comforting vibes

Warnings: Mention of blood and being chased after (but nothing too intense)

Rating: g

Word count: ~ 2K

Requests: Open! For Twilight wolfpack, Narnia and Harry Potter

A/n: Honestly, I’m really excited about this fic. I think it’s very sweet and comforting :3 My brain is bubbling with so many ideas lately so expect new pieces from me in the close future hehe. Also if you have any requests feel free to message me!!

I recommend listening to a Twilight Comfort playlist while reading this. Hope you enjoyy <33

*gif is not mine!!

Summary: After the reader survives an encounter with a vampire, they are still haunted by the memories of it. Luckily, they have a caring and protective friend who is always ready to ensure they feel safe and cared for, even in the middle of the night.

Wrong place, wrong time.

You squeeze your eyes shut, hoping to erase the terrible images invading your brain. For a week now, they have been omnipresent, taking up all the space in your mind. They are the center and focal point of your thoughts for days on end. As you open them again, your vision adjusts to the darkness just enough for your gaze to fall on a strange form crouched in the corner of your bedroom. You could swear it’s alive. Swear it’s stalking you.

You jump out of your bed to turn your nightlamp on. Your heart feels like it might spring out of your chest of its own accord. Your breath is short, and for a moment, you think you’ll never be able to take one that will actually get air in your system.

The menacing form in the corner turned out to be a pile of dirty clothes, but you knew that. Since that day, you feel irrational and paranoid. Everything feels like a threat, and you are now constantly looking over your shoulder, paying close attention to any suspicious sound or absence of it. You’ve talked about it with Harry Clearwater when you unexpectedly met at the Reservation one day. You did not hear him coming, and he had set his heavy hand on your shoulder to get your attention. Which resulted in a glass shattering scream for you and a bad fright for the poor man. As he invited you in for a calming cup of tea, you unloaded the weight on your shoulder to him. It felt good to talk about it, knowing you could never do so with your dad and your friends. He assured you that it unfortunately was a very normal reaction from your nervous system. You had faced the world's most dangerous predator and had survived it without a single scratch. Of course it would take some time for your traumatized brain to go back to normal. You could never take credit for the fact that you even had a chance to go back to normal, and would never attempt to do so. Knowing very well that without Paul, Jared, and Embry’s arrival, you would not have lived to talk about this encounter.

When you focus and let your mind drift off, you can live the event again, as if you were back in time. The paralyzing fear, the blood in your veins feeling like icy water. There was nothing to be done against a creature like that. You remember the horror you felt as everything became silent around you. You were headed to Emily's cabin, a simple, straightforward walk through the woods. The birds suddenly stopped singing, even the soft wind had died down. The forest knew it was in the presence of something truly horrible and had seemed to hold its breath, along with every creature. The color of its eyes was like in every legend you had been told; crimson red, like fresh blood. Not one ounce of humanity in those orbs, just a bottomless pit of cruelty and hunger. The worst thing was the pull you remember feeling for a split second toward that monster. You knew it was its sole purpose, but felt embarrassed you had fallen for it. Shivers crawled down your spine as you recalled its ethereal and hypnotizing appearance. It’s like you can hear again the faint swooshing sound it made as it sprang towards you. You remember sending out a quick prayer to literally any entity who would be listening right now, but the blow never came. Next thing you knew, three giant beasts tackled it to the ground, gnarling and dismembering it in a matter of seconds.

You open your eyes and shake your head to try and physically get those horrible memories outside of your skull. You lay back in bed, anxiously watching every corner of your room for some sign of danger. You left the light open, you knew there was no chance you could fall asleep without it. You tucked yourself back in bed and tried to calm your breathing. You tried every technique you knew, hoping sleep would grace you with its embrace, but nothing worked.

You look back at the clock after a while. 1:15 am. It was too late for you to get out of bed, and morning was still so far away. You had school the next day and knew that if you spent one more night without sleeping, you wouldn’t be able to explain to your teachers why you dozed off again in their class without them calling your father.

In a last effort, you tried thinking about reassuring and comforting things. Curiously enough, one kept coming back to mind. A giant wolf, its fur a multitude of shades of brown and red. Its eyes were sweet and reassuring, containing a particular warmth. You looked at your phone, hesitating, but remembered his voice: “If there’s absolutely anything, call me okay?”

And so you did.

Twenty minutes later, you got a text. You quietly walked to your window, glad to see Jacob’s familiar shape outside your house. He was standing next to a tree, representing for once a friendly and reassuring shadow in the night.

He spoke quietly. “Having trouble sleeping?”

You nodded, a bit ashamed to admit such an infantile fear. Although, deep inside, you knew there was nothing childish about being afraid of the monster you had been warned about as a child, once you had come face to face with it.

“Are you sure you want to do this? I'd totally understand if you'd rather not stay. I mean it's late and you need to sleep. I don't know what I was thinking…”

“Don't be ridiculous." he cut you off. "I’m already here. And once you’ve been asleep for a long time, I’ll go home and catch up on my beauty sleep, okay?”

You knew it wouldn’t take much convincing from him, there was no point in lying. You needed him. You needed the reassurance and sense of security he always brought you.

"If you're sure then… but Jake. You won't leave too soon uh?"

You heard his low chuckle in the distance.

“I promise.”

You slowly and quietly closed your window. The last thing you would want is for your father to wake up and see Jacob standing below your window. You looked back outside, only to see a giant russet wolf had replaced your tall friend. He was standing under the covers of the woods. Forks was a tranquil little city, but you could never be too careful. He gave you a quick nod, encouraging you to go back to bed. You sent him a little thumbs up before heading to your fort of blankets and pillows.

As stupid as it might have seemed, you did feel a thousand times better knowing that Jacob was right outside, watching over you like a guardian angel. To your surprise, sleep quickly came to you, and you fell into its black hole without any resistance.

You’re in a dark forest, running and running and running. You can’t breathe, your hands are bloody, everything hurts. All you can hear is an echoing, cold, cruel laugh. You trip over a root and fall. Something is rushing through the dark woods, coming at you. You get back up and run in the opposite direction, but it feels like you’re not getting any further, like you're running in place. You scream for help, calling out for Jacob, Paul, Embry, Jared, ANYONE, HELP ME. But no one answers, you’re alone, and you’re about to die a horrible death. You trip once more, your leg hurts like hell, there’s no point trying to get up again. You turn around to try and decipher who, what, is running after you. Suddenly, in the dark void of the night, all you can see is that horrifying pair of bloodthirsty eyes. You let out one last scream as it sinks its teeth into your skin. //

“Y/n, y/n, wake up! It’s okay I’m here, Y/n!”

You try to run out of bed but feel a strong pair of arms holding you back. The embrace is warm and smells familiar, but you’re not controlling your limbs anymore. Your whole body is in flight mode. Luckily, the thing (person?) holding you back is strong enough to withstand it, and even though you try as hard as you can to run away, your feet aren't even touching the ground anymore.

“Y/nn, Y/n, shhh. It’s okay, I’m here, it’s me. It’s Jacob.”

You focus on the reassuring tone of the voice and try to convince yourself you're not in the woods anymore. You can see your surroundings poorly illuminated by your little mushroom night light. You're in your room, you’re safe, you’re okay.

Your breathing is still fast and shallow. You blink a few times. Sometimes, the vision surrounding you is one of the cold woods. On other, it's the familiar vision of your room. You slowly turn to face your friend’s face. His brows are furrowed, and his traits have worry written on them in bold letters. He scans you, not quite letting go of your body. Too scared you might start screaming and running again.

“Jake?” “Yes, hi. Welcome back. You really scared me there Y/n.” “What- what are you doing in here? What happened?” Your tone is feeble, and you feel exhausted. You look around once more, afraid this might be some other kind of twisted and terrifying nightmare.

“Am I still dreaming?” You dare to ask. “No, you are awake. We’re in your room. You asked me to come to keep an eye on you, remember?”

You nod, still unsure. What if this was a dream inside a dream? What if the warm limbs of your friend suddenly turned ice cold? What if you looked at him and his eyes turned red, fangs slightly poking his lips?

He can see doubt dancing in your eyes. You don't trust him, or yourself. He holds up his palms towards you, trusting you won't bolt and run.

“See for yourself. I’m real, you can touch me.”

You reach a hesitating finger, carefully poking his own. Seems real enough, feels real. It's warm, the skin is wonderfully tanned, familiar. You’ve seen those hands at work a thousand times. You know them by heart. You poke his cheek, and he gives you a tender smile.

“Convinced?”

You nod once more, letting out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding, as your legs start to shake. That's the thing about dreams, isn’t it? Even if it’s only happening inside your head, your body reacts to it as if it were actually living it. You look at your hands, feeling reminiscent of the pain as if you did scorch them in the woods.

He interrupts your thoughts with a low and soft voice. “Come back in bed. I’ll tuck you in.”

He wraps your hands with his huge ones. They’re warm and feel incredibly good. You let him guide you back to your toasty blankets, but instead of leaving, he takes a spot next to you, shielding you from the window.

“What are you doing?” You ask with a timid voice. “I’m keeping an eye on you, dummy.” Your feet are poking from under the covers. You move to offer him a bit of coverage, but he declines. He is already hot enough as he is, although he can’t deny that his heart seemed to grow a size or two at the kind gesture.

You wait a minute before asking how he ended up in your room. You're not sure you want to know, but curiosity wins over embarrassment.

His expression darkens for a second before he starts talking. “I was just keeping guard outside when I heard a noise. You were calling for me… I didn’t even think, I just got in. You were twitching in your bed. I tried to calm you down, I didn't want it to wake up Charlie, but nothing would do. I was about to forcefully wake you, but you ran out of bed and woke up by yourself.”

“Oh.” You finally let after a few seconds of silence.

“Yup.”

Unconsciously, you're not sure, he took ahold of your hand and lightly played with your fingers. He finally lifted his gaze from your joined hands to look at you, all caring and reassuring. You slide in closer to him. All you want is to feel his comforting warmth and maybe offer him as much as you can too. You feel so bad for worrying him so much. He opens up his arms and cradles you in a bear hug. He won't say it out loud, but he's also in dire need of comfort.

You match your breathing to him, and for the first time in a little while, you’re not scared, not even a little bit. If only you could stay like this forever.

After a few minutes of silence, in which you almost fell asleep, you hear him whisper.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I should have been there. I should have protected you. I’m so sorry, you don't even know.”

“It’s not your fault Jake.” You mumble, and realize you're telling the truth. These are more than empty words. Never has it crossed your mind that this might have been his fault.

“It partially is, if I didn’t drag you into all this you might have been far away. Safe, away from monsters most people don't even know exist."

“I chose to follow you into this Jake. I would be lying if I said this wasn't one of the most horrifying experiences of my life, but it was not your fault. Please get that idea out of your head, okay? I’ll get over it. I guess I just need some time, as Harry said.”

You feel almost fully awake again. He nods, but you know you haven't convinced him. The look on his face is one of guilt, one you've come to know more and more since you learned about his secret. He mindlessly played with a feather poking out of your duvet, avoiding your gaze. Once again, you realized how mature he looked, while still being so young. Too young to carry such heavy burdens. You wanted to hammer the idea out of his thick skull, but you knew there was nothing to do about it tonight. Jacob felt responsible for what happened to you, and convincing him of the opposite would take some time.

Your eyes focused on his tanned skin, and you suddenly became hyper-aware that he was in your bed while only wearing his jeans short.

You inched away of him. “Uhm, want a shirt? I’m sorry, I didn't even think that, since you were in your wolf form, you uh… wouldn’t have one?” You let out an awkward laugh. You were used to seeing him like this, but it was different when you were both lying in bed together in a space that felt so intimate.

“That's nice of you Y/n, but I don't think I'd actually fit into one of your shirts.” He snickers as you get up. You're still wrapped in a blanket as you forage in the pile of clothes next to your bed. You get out of it with a dark cotton t-shirt in hand. It's humongous for you, but you know it will fit Jake like a glove. Probably because it is one of his own.

“There, dummy.” You hand him the t-shirt before jumping back in bed to wrap yourself properly, like a human burrito.

He looks at the piece of clothing and then at you for a good 10 seconds. “You still have this?”

He genuinely looks surprised, but his expression seems mixed with a hint of… satisfaction?

You nod, your nose and eyes being the only part of your anatomy still out of the blankets. You still remember the day he lent you that shirt when you had been caught in the rain at La Push. You never returned it to him, loving the way the gigantic piece of clothing felt on you.

He didn't add anything else before putting the shirt on. “It smells a lot like you.” He adds, a slight tremor in his voice.

“That might be because I wear it a lot to sleep.” You shamefully admit. Your words are nothing more than a whisper, but you know he didn’t have any trouble hearing them. You pull the covers even higher, trying to hide the blush creeping on your cheeks.

“Is that so?” He's smugly smirking. No doubt anymore that he is satisfied with that new piece of information, which makes you want to crawl even further under the covers.

You mutter a quick 'dumbass' before turning away from him. He chuckled before grabbing and pulling you on his broad chest like you weighted nothing more than a feather. You and Jake have always been comfortable with physical touch, but you feel like this is special. You have never done this before. Fine the circumstances were a bit peculiar, but that did not keep you from relishing in the warmth he diffused in waves. You didn't even bother to fake protest. This, is all you need, and you will not be foolish enough to ruin the moment. He wiggles even closer, and you can feel his chest come flush with your back through the layers of blankets. He rests his chin on the crown of your head before lightly stroking the side of his full cheek on your hair.

“Little human burrito.” He mutters. His voice is barely a whisper. Its husky tone makes you shiver. “I’ll watch over you, now go back to sleep.”

—

Here is part.2 🌟

#ilya writes #jacob black #jacob black fic #jacob black blurb #jacob black x reader #jacob black x y/n #twilight #twilight au #twilight saga #twilight renaissance #jacob black fluff #fluff #fluffy #werewolves #shapeshifters #twilight wolfpack

620 notes · View notes

gothicminxx · 4 months

Text

Satosugu x afab! Reader

Word count: 5.2K

CW: Angst with comfort, mentions of blood, major character death, polyamory, mentions of established relationship with Gojo, pet names (angel, pretty girl, my girl, sweet girl, etc.), instead of Y/N Name will be used instead, all around sad af

Part 2 here

Summary: Has a connection to the movie JJK 0, similar but not quite.

I think of Satosugu and I sob.

Hope you enjoy!

Twilight arrived over the horizon, painting the sky of soft purples mixed with pink and blue. Mountain tops capped off with sheets of white that sparkled underneath the setting sun. Silence loomed overhead with the subtle sounds of a breeze, the air crisp with a harsh bite. The grass is glacial from the previous snowfall a few hours ago.

But the world was covered in darkness as the giant hand that pertained to Satoru lay flatly over your eyes, sitting in between his legs on a rock. A habit that he had formed in recent years to mollify the bitter head of anxiety that crippled your body. When the thoughts began to race and the hammering of your heart refused to disperse from your side, Satoru placed his hand over your eyes. The rasp of his voice tickled your ear as he requested you focus, following his deep breaths, and hushed praises for succeeding. When the dark silence consumed the crevices of your brain it pacified the cavernous void that Suguru left behind. The reason for every apprehensive thought that consumed the confinements of your brain. A gaping hole resided in the depths of your pumping heart, one he had overfilled before-- a spilling pool of red wine: warm, gentle, and welcoming, the essence of pertaining to two lovers.

Satoru shared the absence of light with you simply by covering your eyes. He wore blindfolds to protect his six eyes, to keep the core of his energy balanced so as to not fatigue himself, he experienced the bliss of darkness daily listening to the calmness of his breath, the steadiness of his heart, and the sounds of his surroundings. It was peaceful when things seemed to spiral out of control, tensions at an all time high giving Satoru that moment to ease his mind. It was the only thing he could think to do to alleviate the strain of life that gnawed at you constantly like a tender cut of meat.

The coolness of this year's harsh winter stung your cheeks, penetrating at the surface to numb your whole face. You placed your hands on top of Satoru’s, holding it in place to increase the darkness, focusing on the environment you found yourself in. Snow that the wind carried tickled your skin, dampening it slightly as the flakes melted. The comfort of your puffy jacket and beanie kept you toasty to endure the frozen conditions, but in this very moment the cold brought you solace as you embraced the blackness. You could feel the warmth of Satoru’s chest radiate into your back like a warm blanket, the breeze that blew on the side of your face howled softly, swooshing of powdered snowflakes followed. The plateau you and Satoru sat in was desolate of noise, it calmed the erratic beat of your heart and soothed the harrowing thoughts in your mind.

Since Suguru’s impetuous departure from the both of you things had been difficult, words left unsaid with various questions that had gone unanswered. An empty spot on the bed that used to belong to him had now turned cold and desperately clung onto his scent, you and Satoru had found yourselves leaving that space open, as if he’d ever walk through the front door again and reclaim the life he once had. His hoodies still hung up in the closet, his toothbrush still had a spot in the holder, boxes of his favorite tea littered the cabinet-- you preferred coffee, and Satoru liked soda. Suguru’s things were left untouched in your home, things he left behind, and things you and Satoru held onto tightly; protecting the last bit of residue on those items.

Satoru snaked his free arm around, pressing his palm flatly against your abdomen, fingertips caressing the polyester fabric of the puffer jacket that adorned your frame. He gently removed his hand from your eyes as he felt you relax in his hold, leaning forward to rest his chin against your shoulder. The world had come back into your view, the sky had become a darker shade of blue accompanied by a few stars that twinkled. The sun had fully hid behind the snowy mountain range taking away the last bit of warmth it had offered in the winter months. Satoru had insisted on taking you far from the city today despite the ice on the roads, the sunken bags underneath your eyes had prompted worry that he could not ignore. You were the only thing keeping him sane since Suguru had left, Satoru had grown petrified of losing you too. He could sense the ugly cloud of melancholy looming over your head, the way you slouched at the kitchen table-- barely touching the food on your plate, a frown etched on your lips, and tears left to dry on your cheeks. The way you stared at Suguru’s spot in bed wearing one of his hoodies, the yearning and agony you felt all too evident to him that he had to get you away from home for a few hours.

He had always been better at tucking away his emotions so as to not worry you. But Satoru felt the same agony, the cavernous hole in his heart that felt as though a knife had stabbed through and ripped a chunk out. The bile that burned the back of his throat and left a bitter taste that it didn’t matter how many times he brushed his teeth; it remained. That each time he smelled Jasmine or cedar wood he immediately burst into tears, teeth piercing his bottom lip as he tried to mollify the dreary emotions that raked his body. Oftentimes he found himself wearing Suguru’s clothes, wrapping his arms around his own body and pretending as though it was Suguru comforting him. Satoru grieved the relationship that once was, in silence, wanting to be strong for you, the most precious thing in his life. You needed Satoru more than anything in moments where you barely found the strength to get out of bed. When anxiety consumed you like the last meal on earth, he had to be strong for you.

Placing a kiss to your cold cheek Satoru hummed, “You calm now, angel?” He held you tighter in his embrace, shutting his eyes to engrave every curve of your body, the warmth you provided as you sat in between his legs, and your scent. The trepidation he felt of losing you too was one that made him lose his appetite.

Leaning your head back on his shoulder, your eyes followed the depth of the night sky, each star glimmering like a diamond. With the darkness the cold in the plateau stung your face, your nose runny and icy to the touch, but you could only focus on Satoru’s arms, “Yes, shutting out the world always seems to help,” A small smile reached your lips, “Thank you.”

Intertwining your gloved hands together he brought the back to his lips placing a kiss there making your heart flutter. Since Suguru deserted his lovers, through the agony and stabbing wound in one's heart, you still had Satoru. The six eyes refused to leave your side even for a moment, clinging onto you as a sort of life support.

The anguish was evident in his cerulean eyes, deep purple bags had found their home under his eyes, hidden under a blindfold so as to not worry his students— to worry you. Even if a part of his heart clung onto the memory of Suguru, the rest was yours. Glowing sun of warmth that caressed his cheek, holding him tightly to always feel the ardor of your heart. Lulling the anxiety he felt with lingering kisses, fingers tangled in snowy white tuffs, and the sound of your sweet voice covered in honey— speaking saccharine words.

Even if he tried to hide from you, keeping his emotions tucked away in a metal safe— you knew, of course you saw right through him. Having the privilege of meeting Satoru Gojo years ago meant understanding every single emotion he felt. A strong intuition to sense when something was off, he never truly spoke about it, only on the rare occasion of dawn drawing near, his eyes half lidded, and voice coaxed of sleep that he spoke— tired of the torment of a racing mind. You would hold him tightly in your arms, resting your chin on his hair as he sobbed into your chest, allowing his emotions to ripple like a waterfall. He was yours, you wanted to be there as much as he was there for you.

His giant hand cupped your cheek, leading your lips to his. The kiss was gentle, slow, and filled with love, Satoru’s tongue was warm as it found yours, eager to taste more of you to have more of you— he couldn’t get enough. He held you tight, pressing against your abdomen as it bunched up the polyester fabric in between his fingers. His thumb caressing your cheekbone, kissing you was a piece of heaven; Satoru’s sanctuary. The way his lips connected to yours reminded him that you were perfect for him in every sense of the way. That you were still here with him.

Satoru pulled away, resting his forehead against yours to catch his breath. His eyes remained closed but a goofy smile was ever present, his heart thudding loudly he truly believed you could hear it, light pink dusted his pale skin, “My girl. Mine.” He murmured, attaching his lips to yours once more.

It was moments like these that you truly cherished, engraving his every word into your brain like a chanted prayer. Satoru was here to stay, he could not imagine parting from you; it wasn’t possible.

Together you grieved Suguru, the fallen angel that had big aspirations of changing the world for the better. Ideals that you could not see eye to eye on, the raven haired man swore up and down it was a world for his lovers. Even if it seemed selfish at the time he would burn down the entire world for you and Satoru. If it had meant taking the life of the innocent— the weak, for those he loved, he’d do it over and over again. But the question had always remained: Would either of you do the same?

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The sun blazed down on the asphalt in a persistent manner, the heat waves radiated off of the dark pavement that burned the soles of shoes. Summer was unforgiving this year, humid and sickly that shade did little to provide an escape. The metal bleachers burned to the touch from constant heat smacking against them, the grass seemed as the only comforting place to sit underneath a Japanese cedar tree. Strands of green sticking to your thighs that you regretted wearing a skirt, almost.

First grade Jujutsu students practiced their combat skill in the enormous field, sweat dripping down their faces after an hour of intense training. The new student Yuta Okkotsu showed promise— improving his cursed energy little by little. Satoru had taken a liking to him, a powerful curse that followed him around— killing those that harmed him without a second glance. Your husband had a soft spot for teenagers that had a tough life, a man that could come off as arrogant had a huge heart. A few weeks ago Satoru had come to you, announcing he would be pleading Yuta’s case to avoid an execution even if it meant losing his job. You could never argue with him, standing next to him as you petitioned for the young boy as well.

Training had gone as any other day, students complaining about the heat but refusing to go inside— each competitive. Satoru stood with Yaga on the far end of the field coaching Maki and Yuta, while you and Shoko sat under a tree watching over Toge and Panda. The smell of tobacco wafted into your nostrils as Shoko lit up another cigarette, stating it would help with her irritation as she wiped sweat from her brow. Your fingers found the roots of grass to slowly pick at it, a distraction from the unbearable heat that made your body feel as if it would combust into flames.

Leaning back on your elbows you sighed loudly, throwing your head back further into the shade to look at the intricate leaves— hiding from the wretched sun. “How much longer are we going to torture the students in this goddamn heat?” Shoko groaned beside you.

“‘Dunno, until one of us drives Yaga up the wall with our complaining.” You chuckled, “Knowing Satoru I’d say soon.”

Due to Satoru being born in the winter season the six eyes preferred the cold and icy snow over the blistering heat. He thrived at the first snowfall, dragging you out of the warmth of your cozy bed to admire the sheet of white. His long legs would race to the backyard without the proper clothing to handle the freezing temperatures, slender fingers grabbing a handful of snow to feel the cool softness on his flesh. He’d spend a few hours outside admiring it with childlike wonder, you would oftentimes fight him to come inside as if he were a husky— stubborn and flourishing in the snow. It wouldn’t surprise you if your husband was currently throwing a fit about the sweltering heat to Yaga.

Booming voices ricocheted from the trees in the field, snapping you out of your thoughts. Shoko’s ears perched giving you a confused glance as she licked her finger to put out her cigarette, “What could that be?” She wondered.

Together you stood, requesting Toge and Panda to follow along in case it happened to be something serious. Sweat decorated your brow as the impending heat found you, raising the temperature within the confinements of your body. In the distance a large bird bigger than a human flapped its wings, the radiant golden color catching in the sun, throwing its head back to emit a loud squawk from its enormous beak. Bodies of students surrounded the creature, tuffs of milky white hair came into view as his tall lanky figure pushed past bodies. From where you walked you could see the tension in his shoulders, jaw clenched, and fists white-- something was wrong.

The length of your legs began to take lager hurried strides, loud pounding rang in your ears from the erratic beating of your heart. Heads turned as you drew closer, wandering eyes with a look of confusion stared back at you, “Satoru, long time no see!” A silky voice called, sweet like honey, a soft melody to listen to. A voice that closed up your throat, heart dropping to the depths of your stomach, eyes stinging with ocean water because it had been so long since you had heard it. The voice that comforted you when a tough day crossed your path, made you laugh until you cried, talked you through it in moments of ecstasy, and spoke sweet nothings to you.

As you pushed your way into the circle Satoru stood taut, a white blindfold covered his cerulean eyes, expression hard to read but his tight jaw spoke for him. You followed his gaze, time had frozen still as long raven hair met your eyes, glistening in the light of the sun. A smile adorned his features as he greeted Satoru with an arm around Yuta’s shoulder, he had yet to notice you. It had been nearly a decade since you had seen the familiar face, had him in close radius. “Suguru?” Your voice barely above a whisper, cracking pathetically towards the end.

His attention drifted towards you, “Name, it’s been a while.” The smile he wore faded the moment brown eyes truly caught a glimpse of you, the sight nearly broke his heart. You looked on the verge of tears, the yearning to run into his arms was evident as your hand blindly reached out-- but you held back, taking a hold of Satoru’s sleeve too paralyzed to move. The white haired man placed a protective arm on your waist as if to challenge Suguru to take a step further to either of you. But in truth Satoru would break down if given the opportunity, trying his best to remain strong, to come off as intimidating to the man that ripped his heart open; you both knew this.

“Step away from those kids right now, Suguru.” Satoru’s voice held a stern edge, the man in front of him was the only one that could affect the usual confident demeanor he had.

Suguru held back a smirk as he slowly removed his arm from Yuta, “ I heard the first years were quite special, it seems you still have an eye for talent, Satoru.”

Your gaze was fixed on the raven haired man, it felt like a sick joke, one that your mind deemed fit as a punishment for past mistakes you had once made. He looked different than before, his hair was much longer, reaching his waist. The purple eye bags and look of misery that had become a part of him almost a decade ago had disappeared, his skin practically glowing, he looked happier-- cockier than the man you once knew. You wanted to be as calm as Satoru, to appear stoic and un-bothered but the air felt heavy, the lump in your throat had formed so thick that it was nearly impossible to swallow back. For a decade you still found yourself grieving his sudden departure, the closure he had refused to give you and Satoru, leaving nothing behind but memories and a freezing empty spot in bed. “What are you doing here?” You asked, voice hostile yet the sense of longing was still there.

He tore his gaze from Satoru avoiding your watery eyes over to his entourage, “I came to declare war,” Suguru put it simply, “Five days from now I’ll be in Kyoto, I hope to see you all there.”

“A war?” Shoko scoffed, “Your ideals truly have gone to your head.”

“I’m simply creating a better world.” Suguru’s words left a bitter taste in your mouth, like rusty metal that had sat out in the sun long forgotten for an extended period of time. He no longer sounded like himself, his voice remained velvety and yet, the disconnect of the man he used to be was immense. It had brought you back to the time you were once a student, noticing his distant demeanor with hazy eyes that he looked unrecognizable. He closed in on himself, shutting you and Satoru out. Most nights had been spent sleeping on the couch or too wired as he stayed up an entire night frantically scribbling gibberish in his journal-- ideas to cleanse the world of the weak. He refused the assistance of the comforting arms of his lovers, rejecting their words of reassurance. Suguru had lost a drastic amount of weight, the churning of his stomach accompanied by a burning in his throat that kept him away from consuming food. He had become a shell of himself until one day his radio silence became permanent; leaving his lovers to fend for themselves without another word.

Only for him to return months later in the crowded square of downtown Tokyo claiming that it was all for his lovers. The world he was creating was the perfect one for those he cared about, asking to accompany him in the journey of discovering it together, only to be met by your tears and Satoru’s anger. It was the irreparable end of a relationship.

Biting your bottom lip harshly, you could taste the tang of metallic blood on your tongue, holding Satoru’s sleeve tighter, only for the milky haired man to search for your hand to intertwine your fingers-- squeezing it tightly, he could feel your agony, resentment, and pining. Focusing on his features, you wanted to burn them into your memory, hold them close to your heart because you would be damned if you forgot his face, “I think it’s time for you to go, Suguru.” You muttered, digging your nails into the palm of your hand imprinting crescent moons in the flesh; fighting back the tears that threatened to spill as you urged the man that still owned half of your heart to go.

Silence loomed overhead as Suguru processed the words that escaped your lips; soft that he almost missed them, how desperately he wanted to ignore them to take you and Satoru in his arms and make things better. The version of him you had known before was gone, that man was no longer a part of who he truly was, the weak and strong simply could not co-exist. Why couldn’t either of you understand that for his own selfish reasons, this was all for you? He turned on his heel, sauntering over to the enormous bird, only turning his head enough to catch a glimpse of the two people he adored the most, “I’ll see you in Kyoto. Until next time.” With that the creature expanded its wings, descending in the air with the man that still held onto your hearts.

Satoru watched as the massive bird disappeared into nothingness, the stitches in his heart that had once existed ripped open-- crimson blood gushing out, the ache unbearable. Holding your smaller hand tightly he began to walk toward the direction of his classroom, a small sob escaped your lips before you tried your best to hide it but he had heard it. The tall man stopped, only to see your pretty face covered in fat tears with quivering lips as you tried to fight off dramatic sobs. “Oh, my sweet girl.” Satoru cooed, bending down to envelope you in his arms. His large hand cupped the back of your head, stroking your hair as he held you tightly. He buried his nose in your hair, a small tear falling from his own eye but he was quick to wipe it.

“I- I miss him,‘Toru,” You choked out,“So much.”

“Me too, angel, me too.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩

Dark gray clouds covered the sky, leaving Kyoto in complete darkness. The sounds of war engulfed the city with crumbling buildings, destroyed vehicles, and thick clouds of smoke from small fires that had started. The perfect distraction Suguru had created to get to Yuta, it hadn’t registered in your minds that it had been his plan to get everyone away from the vicinity of Jujutsu High School.

You stood in a medical building to assist in healing those injured alongside Shoko, gifted the same ability of reversed curse technique with the upper hand of bringing those back from the dead on rare occasions. A skill you had spent most of your life trying to achieve, it had only been possible with the help of Tengen and Satoru. The consequences of cheating death had yet to show themselves to you, bringing back countless from watery graves— a draining task that consumed most of your cursed energy for a few days, it wasn’t used often.

Crouching over a severely injured fourth grade student the grand glass door of the building opened, as footsteps scrambled to deliver another injured student you felt the familiar cursed energy of your husband. “I have to go back to Jujutsu High, he set this whole thing up. Suguru is after Yuta.” He stated, gritting his teeth.

“I’m coming with you.” The urgency in your voice was hard to miss.

Satoru could only shake his head, holding his hand up to stop you from coming any closer to him, “No, it’s too dangerous, Name. Stay here and treat the wounded.”

He was always overprotective of you, your safety had always been the six eyes priority only growing ten fold the moment Suguru abandoned the both of you. You understood, but at the same time you weren’t weak, classified as a special grade two weeks after attending school. Training day in and day out when it came to combat, craving to be as perfect as Satoru and Suguru— the two strongest sorcerers. “I don’t care! I’m going with you and that’s final.” You had always been stubborn, constantly standing your ground and refusing any form of rejection when it came to proving yourself. It was a trait Satoru adored about you, but oftentimes it drove him crazy with worry, he knew you were strong but you were the last person he had besides Megumi.

Determination painted your features, clenching your fists at your side to show Satoru you weren’t going to give up. He couldn’t argue with his beautiful wife, especially with the way you looked at him as if you would follow him to the ends of the Earth. “So stubborn.” He huffed, taking your hand before teleporting the both of you to Jujutsu High.

It was silent the moment you arrived on campus grounds the smell of burnt wood wafted in the air as you walked hand in hand. A knot formed in your gut as if it were signaling you that something had gone terribly wrong, it made you tighten your hold on Satoru’s hand. The silence was deafening as the residue of a previous battle remained in the air and grubble of buildings.

Turning the corner of vacant buildings, you could see a figure in the distance covered in crimson liquid, missing a limb, long raven hair a disheveled mess as his signature bun had come undone, “You guys are late as usual.” Suguru weakly chuckled, clutching his side.

“The students in Kyoto were under your control?” Satoru asked, though he held no confusion, you both knew the answer.

Suguru leaned back on a cement wall letting out a ragged breath, “Yes, they all were.”

Letting go of Satoru’s hand you couldn’t care less about the things Suguru had done, the misery he caused when he disappeared, or even those he hurt. Your vision became blurry with tears as you took in his condition, bloodied and bruised as he struggled to maintain a steady breath. You could not bear to listen to much more, this time you had allowed yourself to run to Suguru as you had longed since seeing him on school grounds five days ago. Not giving Satoru a moment to think as he watches your figure bolt for the raven haired man.

Kneeling in front of him your arms wrapped around his neck bringing his body close to yours, without hesitation he wrapped his arm around your waist burying his bloodied face in your neck. The smell of jasmine and cedarwood welcomed you, the scent that had always belonged to him, the one that caused a sob to escape your lips. “You idiot.” You cried into his hair, clutching him tightly, afraid to let go and discover that he was a figment of your imagination.

You were warm, skin silky soft— he had forgotten how good it felt to have you in his arms, if he was being honest with himself he had forgotten your scent, how sweet and delicate it was. “There’s my sweet girl.” Suguru croaked, after a decade of pushing away the hurt he caused himself for leaving, was finally flooding out. Trembling as he hugged you tightly, burning your scent, curves, and hair into his memory. A treasure he’d lock up and guard with his entire being.

“I can fix it, let me fix it… let me heal you.” You begged, cupping his cheeks, blood staining your hands.

“Name, you can’t.” Satoru whispered, tilting his head down.

“What?! No, I'm going to fix h-“

Before you could finish your sentence Suguru took your hand, placing a kiss to the back of it, “It’s for the best, angel.”

You shook your head frantically, sobbing loudly as you looked between Satoru and Suguru, begging to not allow it to end this way. Burying your face in Suguru’s neck, closing your eyes as if to wish to wake up from this nightmare. To wake in your huge bed with them on either side of you, each wrapped around you as they slept soundly. The harsh cold breeze flowing in through your window as it snowed outside, dreading the moment Satoru woke up because he’d drag the two of you outside. Wanting a life back that once was, when Suguru was content with the things he had, when the two of you were enough for him, just one more time.

Suguru grabbed your hand, swaying your two bodies together. Noticing the rays of sunshine bouncing off of a rather large diamond on your finger nearly blinding him, he took a moment to admire it, chuckling bitterly as a wave of jealousy flooded over him. “My love’s got married.” Suguru could only blame himself for abandoning you both, envious he wouldn’t be able to share the Gojo last name with the both of you. A part of him was truly happy for you two, moving on after his selfish act. It wouldn’t have been fair to request either of you to remain stagnant.

“In October two years ago.” Satoru smiled sadly, twiddling with the diamond band on his ring finger. Proud to call you his wife, to be the one to take care of you and cherish moments spent together. It hurt that Suguru couldn’t be a part of it.

“I can fix you… then… then we can try to mend everything. Sugu please.” You choked.

But the decision had been made for you, the conclusion that Suguru was on death’s doorstep had become destiny in the moment. Your pleas and cries went unanswered even if it pained both of the men to cause such agony for you. In the end Suguru no longer had the ability to change, too stuck in his ideals to let them go. “I still love you.” You weeped.

Suguru’s heart sank at your words, even after the crimes he had commited and the torture he had put you through your emotions remained in tact, “I love you too.” The raven haired man kisses your temple, “and I love you, ‘Toru.”

A few tears had finally escaped his cerulean eyes, “I love you too… I’m sorry.”

A flash of purple came into your peripheral vision, the ringing in your ears was painful. Time had slowed as Suguru’s muscular body fell limp in your arms, the look of horror on your face was one that Satoru would remember forever. A loud scream erupted from your lungs that it felt as though they’d rip open at the seams, oxygen became impossible to inhale as you wailed out to the sky clutching his lifeless body in your arms. “No! No, ‘Toru… no. Suguru please,” The only thing you could muster was to beg and wail, preparing to use the entirety of your cursed energy to bring back your dead lover.

But Satoru pulled you away before you could do anything, holding your flailing body in his arms as he howled alongside you. He would hold onto this guilt for the rest of his life, ripping Suguru away from your lives as he meant nothing when he was everything would tear him to shreds. Suguru had perished by his own hands, he felt like a monster. All he could do was throw you over his shoulder and listen to the heart wrenching wails that left you as he dragged you away from Suguru.

He’d never forgive himself.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

266 notes · View notes

gay-dorito-dust · 3 months

Note

I fee like Jason would gently but firmly break off his relationship with his s/o because he'd want to try to distance you from his vigilante life, he'd obviously never tell you about his other life. he'd try to convince you to move out of Gotham, maybe after dumping you he'd convince one of your friends to contact a relative of yours who lives far outside Gotham to try to entice you out of the city because he can't fully concentrate knowing Gotham could get you at any moment.

If you don't leave you'd find that you escape a lot of situations you shouldn't and that known bad guys even pretty big criminals tend to just leave you alone and pretend you don't exist even if you happen to find yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time, a random goon will just escort you out or a mugger would realise his mistake and beg forgiveness and leave all your belongings safely beside you. Redhood follows you a lot not that you know, he wouldn't want to frighten you, on some nights he'll sleep on your balcony or your fire escape just to be near you.

I’m basically reiterating what you’ve already said because it’s so fucking good anon. You took my singular braincell. How dare. 🦦

.Jason cannot focus on both keeping you safe and on clearing Gotham. It’s just not realistic. So if one thing had to give then Jason would selflessly chose to save you from a life of constantly look in over your shoulder. You deserve a better life and unfortunately Jason knows that you’ll never get that dream life staying in Gotham.

.Redhood had a plethora of enemies and Jason didn’t want you to become a victim of his acts of vigilantism. It wasn’t fair on you but Gotham never was or is a fair city for anyone involved. You could be alive and content one moment but dead in a dingy alleyway with corrupt people trying to gloss over your murder the next.

.So like you said anon. He goes to every contact he had that could help him in getting you moved out of Gotham, whether that be friends, family, whoever could aid Jason speed up the process in getting you settled in elsewhere was more then welcomed by him.

.Breaking up with you would be the worst thing Jason ever had to do, which is saying something, but again as much as Jason wanted to be a selfish man, he couldn’t bring himself to keep you in a city that will ultimately be the death of you both in a literal and metaphorical sense. He thought he had finally got the chance to be happy and get to live out his life with you, but when the villain of the week vaguely mentioned you in some capacity, Jason’s blood ran cold as everything in his body went mental; screaming at him to end this fucker right here and now for daring to mention you and demand how they knew.

.However he knew that’s what they wanted confirmation but still a part of his brain made him believe that they already knew of your relationship with redhood and that scared Jason unlike anything else. You were his Achilles heel and he hadn’t even realised that until the moment you were being threatened. And at that point Jason was at a loss of what to do to prioritise your safety because he would do absolutely anything to protect you and keep you safe but sometimes the best thing for him to do was to let you go and hope that you live a better life elsewhere. Far, far, far away from Gotham.

. Maybe sometime in the future when things have calmed down, he’ll visit but that’s never a guarantee. He thinks himself a death omen and he’d rather you live in safety and security. So he stays in Gotham as though he was chained to the damned city. Forbidden from ever leaving. Yet he’ll never forget you and everything you’ve done for him, I’d like to think he’d keep one thing that reminds him of you as a reminder of all the good times you’ve shared. Jason knew his heart would always belong to you and the item he kept was only a reminder of that.

.If you don’t move out of Gotham however, you start to realise that you are the most Luckiest/safest person if there ever was one. Goons, villains, thugs, all of them avoid you as though you were the plague, like you possessed something so potent that had them retreating back into the shadows, hissing as though you’ve burned them without touching them.

Which you did and he happened to be the infamous Redhood. Nobody fucks with you when Redhood is your silent but slightly terrifying guardian looming over you from the rooftops, daring anyone to try anything within his presence and to see where it gets them.

. A thug could’ve been gunning to steal your bag after managing to corner you in some dingy alleyway, holding you a knifepoint, and all of a sudden all the colour in their face vanish as their eyes flickered upwards and boom. Redhood. The thug is shitting it, their eyes are bulging out of their head as they throw the bag back at your feet and mutter ‘I ain’t planning on dying over some stupid bag, fuck that.’ Before running away with their tail between their legs like a little bitch.

. You, confused, would look up in the same place that the thug did. Only to find absolutely nothing before shrugging your shoulders. ‘Must be the drugs he was taking.’ You’d conclude before continuing on your way home to your beautiful boy, Jason.

. I’d like the idea that you caught Redhood sleeping out on your balcony/fire escape one night and now not only are you taking care of your beloved boyfriend but also a 6’2 vigilante who’s built like a brick house with guns strapped to any part of him that you could see. It’s cute and adorable because you’d probably also come to the conclusion that he was the reason why you were being left alone, and to show your gratitude to him you start leaving food, drink and something comfortable to sleep in out for him whenever you could alongside a note that said; ‘thank you for looking out for me but please for the love of god take care of yourself.’

. Jason loves it and finds it’s unbearably cute as he perched himself on your balcony/fire escape, eating your food and making himself comfortable for the night while you slept. He wished he could at least kiss your forehead and wish you a goodnight sleep but he knew he couldn’t and he hated it but as long as you were safe, that’s all Jason could ever ask for. He’ll shower you in affection soon but tonight he was on watch duty.

#jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagines #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #dc x y/n #dc x you #dc comics x reader #dc x reader #dc imagine #dc fic #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction

371 notes · View notes

kissingchoso · 1 year

Text

guys who you’re in a friends with benefits relationship in but they can’t help but to act like your actual boyfriend. he picks up your favorite food whenever he’s coming around to your place, has an entire drawer in his bedroom that’s dedicated to your clothes you’ve left over the months, texts you clingy messages to the point where anyone reading would rightfully assume you’re dating!

him: ‘there’s a new art exhibit opening tomorrow in the city. let’s go. we can get lunch after.’

he’d proceed to send you a link of the museum you’ve been meaning to go to for some time now. the exhibit looks promising as a lot of the new art have been made by a lot of individuals across different countries, all with the focus of environmentalism and the human body. to say you were intruiged was an understatement.

you: ‘that sounds fun!! there’s this really delicious korean bbq place not too far from there too! pick me up at 10 ^^'

he shows up at 9:30, claiming he didn’t want to be late but he likes to watch you finish your entire routine. he even takes the liberty to make sure your purse is fully packed, even putting your wallet back on the top of your dresser just to make sure he’s the only one paying for everything today.

when you finish and turn to him to get his review, he grabs you and pulls you in close. “you’re the prettiest girl i’ve ever laid eyes on, you know that?” he asks, head tilted slightly to the right and a growing smile on his lips.

you return the smile tenfold, his heart racing at your reciprocation. not wanting to smear off the lipgloss on your lips, he places a couple of kisses on your forehead, nose and cheek before pulling away finally and handing your purse to you.

he takes you on the best date ever. from the museum, photo ops he took of you, even to the delicious restaurant afterwards, he’s fully satisfied with how it ended up being. the shine in your eyes when you are having genuine fun with him. it’s never awkward nor filled with uncomfortable silence. the conversation is genuine through and through and you love it.

it gets even better when you ask him to come back and stay the night. you two share a secret dance where only the two of you know. his hips are unrelenting the whole time while his fingers constantly rub against that special spot that leaves you panting and wanting more. round after round, it’s never ending. his movements are so cruel but his words are sweet, leaving you properly dizzy and at his complete mercy.

“last one pretty girl,” he groans from above you, hips snapping against your ass while he has two right fingers rubbing nonstop against your clit.

all you can do is whimper from beneath him, grip on your perfectly cleaned sheets becoming looser as time progresses.

he hisses when you clench around him, unable to stop his hips from shaking when you actively are performing kegels on his cock. “fuck i’m gonna cum,” he grunts from above you. “cum with me, pretty. you can do it, i know you can.”

he coaxes his last orgasm out of you with no issue, prompting his own release not too long after. his seed fills your wet cunt, already having some escape through the crevices the longer he stays buried in your holy but he can’t help himself. you’re just too warm.

the only time he lets you go is when your body can’t hold itself up anymore and you collapse forward in bed. there’s a hiss from him when he slips out of you but he’s comfortable to watching the show in front of him, which is when his cum dribbles out of your aching pussy and staining the innocent sheets below. he’s immensely proud of you and shows it by leaving kisses up your backside until he reaches your cheekbone.

it pulls you out of sleep momentarily, long enough to hear his question, “still want me to stay the night, honey?” always the one to make sure.

all you could do is nod and mutter out a please before he’s fully assured.

don’t worry your fuzzy brain any longer. just go to sleep while your not-boyfriend gets your room settled by turning your fan on for the night and your little nightlight you have by your bathroom door. once the overheads are off, he’s tucking himself back into your side so that he can greedily pull you into his arms and doze off for himself.

tanaka, bokuto, HINATA (im biased), ARAN (also biased), osamu, suna, GETOU, yuuta, kazuha, zhongli (but only bc this man loves fwb relations), kaveh, DILUC, aether, CHILDE, AYATO, and ofc any of your favs <3

2K notes · View notes

beepboopkek · 3 months

Text

— Practice makes perfect (M!Reader)

Including: Dr.Ratio x AMAB!Reader afab version has been posted! cw: !! NSFW !!, amab!reader, established relationship, pwp but barely, you call him veritas, c0ck slapp1ng, 0rga$m d3n1al, c0ckwarm1ng, dr is kinda mean, light degradation , kind of left at a cliffhanger?? idk, a little short, reader is doing math w/c: 1.3k a/n: HELLO IM BACK WITH ANOTHER DRABBLE first time writing for someone other than Jing Yuan so sorry if its not that good ue ue ue im still learning </3 anywyas i somehow got to a 100 followers which is both exciting and concerning but yeag hope u guys like this :3 <3 NSFW BELOW THE CUT

“This simply won't do.”

Your boyfriend huffed in annoyance as your shaking hands continued to—(or well, at least tried to)— do the calculations for the question that shined brightly on the tablet resting on the table.

You couldn't decide whether to be mad at him or yourself for the predicament you were in currently.

— Sat prettily on his lap, your feet barely touching the ground and his cock kept snugly to the hilt inside your ass.

You exhaled shakily, your body shuddering as his fingers that were previously stimulating your cock had now disappeared.

“Another mistake. How disappointing, I excused the last one but, you really are testing my limits now.”

His head was over your shoulder as he tutted and eyed the screen, watching every move you made and deducing what was correct and what was not.

“Maybe, if you'd let me focus I could—”

– and suddenly, he raised his hand and landed a quick slap right onto the head of your cock.

Your body jerked in response as your words got cut off with a gasp.

His hand came back to make languid strokes on your cock, tapping the head gently as if he was trying to soothe the pain. His other hand that was wrapped around your waist gripped you tightly as he leaned forward, pushing himself at a deeper angle.

“If I hear another one of your remarks, things won't end well for you. Now, focus.”

You exhaled loudly in frustration as you forced your attention back onto the question, lifting the pen and continuing your calculations.

The both of you had been together for several years now, graduating from The University of Veritas Prime together— Your intellect was almost on par with his.

However, what you were doing now, though, was quite… questionable.

See, unlike him, you preferred the simpler life of teaching at a university. Getting into a guild or something of that sort had never really interested you. But, your boyfriend being… Well, The Veritas Ratio— he had his ways of convincing you to at least work on your mathematical skills to improve further the chances of you getting invited to the Intelligentsia Guild from the IPC.

So, he offered a simple solution.

Tutoring. One-on-one, of course.

“Another mistake.” His voice was low in your ear and you could almost feel the annoyance dripping from those words alone.

… Which snapped you back to the current situation- you were writhing on his lap with your stiff cock wrapped up like a present.

The bow was perfect— as all things are with Veritas Ratio. He had tied the red ribbon right at the base of your cock, denying you the relief of an orgasm yet, stimulating you constantly.

Fuck. You hadn't even registered what you were writing, your brain growing increasingly fuzzy with the way his cock pressed into your prostate.

He placed another slap onto your cockhead, your body jerking in response as your ass clenched around him

“Start counting, Let's see how long you can keep up, hm?”

“V—Veritas, do I really have to do t—”

Your body jerked as he landed another slap on your already tender cock.

“Address me properly.”

“Fuck— I'm sorry–”

You swallowed down your complaints, knowing it would result in only more punishment if you continued.

“That— that was three.”

Veritas smiled against your shoulder before pressing your hips into his and moving you just a little bit… but nowhere near enough. He kissed the shell of your heated ear,

“That's my boy, I knew you could do it.”

You moaned lightly as he gave slow strokes to your cock and, to your frustration— equally slow thrusts.

and then he took away the stimulation altogether— Your heated body simmering down into a somewhat uncomfortable yet pleasurable state.

“Come on now, let's continue. You still have the whole test left.”

You nodded shakily as you lifted the long-forgotten pen and started writing on the tablet.

This was the fourteenth question, sixteen more to go.

You managed to distract yourself enough to finish the question, The only sounds in the room were the quick taps from your pen and the occasional embarrassingly loud squelching noise from you that came as a result of Veritas moving to get more comfortable. As you finished, you waited with bated breath in hopes that he would say something.

“Is it—is it correct?”

Your boyfriend smiled before uttering a yes and leaning his head forward to kiss your cheek gently.

“Not bad… five points. So, you can be good for me, hm?”

Before you could respond, he spoke up again, “Complete the fifteenth question correctly and I'll consider letting you have an orgasm. How does that sound?”

“Please—”

A small tug to your cock.

“It was a rhetorical question. Continue.”

You nodded numbly as you willed every fiber in your brain to focus on the question.

Just as you were about to finish the last bit of the question you felt your boyfriend slowly beginning to move his hips again, lips attaching to your shoulder and neck— biting, kissing and licking as he pleased.

“Veritas— Aeons– Let me finish this, please.”

You realised your mistake a second too late, though.

Another slap, accompanied by a loud gasp escaped your mouth as you dropped the pen onto the table, your feet flexing as you processed the sudden mix of sensations that went through you.

“Count.”

Yep, you've just about crossed his limit.

“Four.”

You steadied your breathing again.

A few beats of silence pass by and you finally finish the fifteenth question. Your breathing picked up again as you awaited Veritas’ next move.

“Half an hour. That's how long you took to finish fifteen simple arithmetic questions.”

He did not sound happy.

Before you could defend yourself, He grabbed you by the waist and stood up, setting your upper body on the table as the digital tablet dissipated.

Your feet were off the ground at this angle, meaning that his strength was the only thing keeping you steady on the table.

Veritas pushed himself deeper inside you as you arched your back, draping his larger frame over yours as he leaned down to talk right next to your ear.

“What would people think, hm? An esteemed professor with seven doctoral degrees reduced to a slobbering mess because of me?”

You only whined in response, your brain had long turned into mush— unable to comprehend anything but him.

Neither you nor Veritas knew how you held on that long.

“Please— Sir– I did what you asked me to do.”

“I asked you to do 30 questions within half an hour. You managed only half of that.”

His voice was neither stern nor soft— just somewhere in between that you could only describe as– Veritas.

“I suppose, though, I did promise you that I'd consider granting you relief.”

Your face lit up at the thought of finally, finally getting your orgasm— The one that you had been denied for the past thirty minutes.

“Oh, such an adorable expression,”

You waited in excitement for him to remove the wretched ribbon around your dick only for a sound of confusion to leave your mouth as he gathered both your hands and pinned them on your lower back, gripping them with one of his own.

Veritas drew his hips back and thrust back in, moving you and the table ahead.

You moaned at the burst of pleasure, finally—

“Tell me the answer to number sixteen.”

Shallow thrusts that were just shy of your prostate.

Asshole.

You took deep breaths.

“I don’t— fuck- know the question—”

The digital tablet reappeared in front of you, the question glaring back at you as you whined pathetically.

You felt the hand on your hip moving down to squeeze the swell of your ass.

It was a warning.

Veritas planted his free hand into your hair and tugs, pulling your head back in a firm grip.

“Answer me.”

… Maybe accepting his offer wasn’t a good idea.

#dr ratio smut #dr ratio x reader #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader #veritas ratio smut #veritas ratio x reader

193 notes · View notes

incognit0slut · 11 months

Text

Right Kind of Wrong (7)

She never thought she would be involved in a murder case. She also never thought she’d encounter her one-night-stand again—the awkward stranger who isn’t exactly that good in bed… Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong.

Part Summary: She finds herself in a compromising position.

Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content, graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide

a/n: this is my first time writing suspense and crime-mystery, so bear with me if you find any inaccuracy

IF THERE WAS ONE THING SPENCER WAS SURE OF, IT WAS BEING SLEEP DEPRIVED. Fatigue, like an invisible shroud, draped itself around his shoulders, draining all of his energy while his mind stumbled through a labyrinth of exhaustion.

He stifled a yawn, his mind trying to focus on the situation at hand and not the lack amount of sleep he was having. When was the last time he actually slept on his bed? When was the last time he went through his days without constantly refilling his cup with too much caffeine? The muscles around his eyes were starting to twitch with restless energy, a sign of a restless mind faltered under the weight of weariness.

Yet amidst it all, a strange resilience emerged within him. He still managed to focus his blurred vision, scanning his eyes around the room as he pushed away any fatigue and the desire to be somewhere else.

His gaze finally ceased on Garcia, engrossed in her own digital world, a sleek laptop perched on the round table before her. She leaned in, her eyes fixed on the vibrant screen which illuminated her face with a soft, cool glow. "Alright, so, I did more digging onto our recent victim, and let me tell you this, Jamison Lynch wasn't exactly the boss of the year."

Jennifer Jareau—who most of them regarded as JJ—looked up from the document in her hand, sitting across from Garcia. "What do you mean?"

"Jamison Lynch was somebody you wouldn't want as a boss. There were a lot of complaints coming from his subordinates—which surprisingly, most came from female workers."

Spencer's eyes scanned the large board in front of him adorned with a labyrinth of interconnected information. Photographs of the two crime scenes were pinned up, highlighting key details, while strings of marks and drawings crossed the board. "He was very different from the first victim."

"Exactly. Kevin Marshall was the epitome of boss of the year, and everybody just loved the guy, which was why no one could guess how something terrible could happen to him."

"There's a chance what happened to him isn't related to his job," JJ offered.

"Maybe not," Garcia muttered, throwing Spencer a curious look. "But the question is still unanswered, how are the two victims linked to one another?"

"The Unsub's memo is clearly done to punish them," Spencer explained, his attention started to gather all the information gripped onto his brain. "The verse written on Jamison Lynch's body was Romans 6:23, For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in our Lord."

JJ leaned over the desk with a pointed stare. "One thing for sure, the Unsub has a strong religious background."

Spencer nodded. "All the verse they used highlights the notion that sin carries consequences, and death is described as the 'wage' or payment for those transgressions. In his mind, they may interpret these verses as a justification for his vigilante actions, believing that he's carrying out divine punishment on behalf of God."

"A religious upbringing," JJ suggested. "The Unsub could have grown up in a deeply religious environment, where strict interpretations of scripture might be emphasized."

"Most likely a distorted belief system." Spencer's hands were all over the place as he continued with his elucidation. "Over time, the Unsub's religious beliefs may have become twisted and distorted, leading him to believe that he possesses a unique calling to carry out punishment on behalf of a higher power."

He then studied the picture of the first crime scene, his eyes raking over the lifeless body covered in a pool of blood. "Kevin Marshall might seem like the golden citizen, but he must be involved in something that could be illegal..." He suddenly looked over to Garcia. "Did Jamison Lynch start his career as a journalist?"

Her fingers danced across the keyboard. "Yes, he published a lot of his work since 2004."

"Search any articles he wrote that might involve Kevin Marshall, or maybe the company he worked for. "

"Or legal cases that he was assigned with," JJ added.

"That could be a start, although it might take a while because sleuthing without much lead is difficult." Garcia peered at the two of them by the rim of her eccentric, colorful glasses. "But do not fret, I am known to be the best."

Footsteps suddenly emerged into the room as Aaron Hotchner glanced around the three of them. "Garcia," he mentioned, standing behind her. "Did you find any old cases that might be involved in the victims?"

"Ah, yes, the system was searching through the database based on your queries this morning and it took me a while before—" A sudden ping echoed from her device. “Well, that was perfect timing."

Her fingers clicked across the keyboard as her eyes scanned the dimly lit screen. Everyone in the room stood frozen in their tracks, their faces etched with a curious mix of trepidation and curiosity.

Garcia's eyes widened, revealing the turmoil that echoed the collective sentiment of the room. "Whoa."

JJ stood up and circled her way around the table, standing close to her. "What is it?"

"I started looking through the database for any similar crimes in surrounding areas this morning." Her attention shifted between the other three people in the room. "There have been enucleations in other cases, but none recently, and none close by. No similar murder case was shown, but suicide on the other hand..."

"Harvey Webb," JJ read, looking at the photo of the deceased man. "Suicidal death?"

"Thirty-nine-year-old landlord took a tumble off a sixth-floor balcony two years ago, exactly on the apartment complex he rented out."

"Why are we looking at a suicidal case?"

"That's the thing, the local authorities ruled out that he might've not jumped on his own accord, although his wife at that time determined that he had been having suicidal thoughts for a long time and decided to close the case." Garcia did more tapping on her keyboard and somehow pictures of the crime scene were plastered across the screen in front of the room. "Harvey went through depression and a lot of suicidal attempts, there were always cuts along his arm except—"

"There was a writing on his body?" Hotch guessed.

Garcia nodded as she clicked on a clearer picture of the victim's arm. "His autopsy came in that while there were definite signs of attempt self-hurt, this was written between the cuts."

"Galatians 6:7," Spencer read, his eyes fixated on the screen as he recited, "Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows."

"Definitely a vigilante on the loose," JJ remarked.

Spencer hummed a positive response and walked over to the board, a marker in his hand as he wrote down the verse. "This verse underscores the concept of reaping the consequences of one's actions, which could further justify the Unsub's belief that his victims deserve punishment for his perceived sins or mistakes."

Hotch studied the pictures of the recent victims and the one shown on the screen. "The way the words are carved across the skin is definitely done by the same person," he noted.

JJ looked between the three pictures before nodding. "I agree." She then glanced up at her co-workers. "So why the different MO? Something connects these three victims, and yet this one"—she pointed to the photo of Harvey Webb—"died in a completely different manner. He either jumped or was pushed. We don't even know if it was a murder, just that he was branded the same as the other two victims."

"The timeline doesn't add up," Spencer claimed, his brows furrowed deeper. "There's too much of a gap between the first victim and the second victim, we're looking at two different stressors that triggered the Unsub."

Hotch stood beside him, crossing his arms as he studied the evidence they had collected these past few days. "If this was his first victim and the two men were his second and third, it's possible he's advancing, that his fantasy is developing."

Spencer looked back at the three pictures. What connected these three dead people, two murdered in violent, heinous ways, the third a potential suicide victim? What wrongdoings might they possibly sin? And now he couldn't help but feel the weight of Hotch's words and how revolting one could act in this series of crimes, proclaiming them as fantasies, his skill, and determination more distinguished than ever before.

"If that's the case..." he pointed out, a certain tension hanging in the air. "He's only getting started."

Y/n must be mad—utterly, completely out of her mind.

She always considered herself a very sensible person characterized by an ability to think critically, or make rational decisions on logical reasoning. But her thoughts, once orderly and coherent, twisted into bewildering shapes because here she was, perched right in front of an apartment door she once closed behind and never looked back.

Why did she think it was a good idea to come here uninvited at this time of hour? How did she end up being here when she was lying in her bed a few hours ago?

She recalled turning around in her sleep, or perhaps, her attempt to rest her eyes, because she found herself staring into the dark with an unsettling feeling in her gut. Maybe all the turmoil of emotions piled up in her chest had her going into a panic frenzy, relentlessly moving in her bed when she should've been fast asleep.

Somehow amidst dwelling on her anxiety, she was suddenly on her feet, putting on a jacket before calling a cab. Her mind was too tangled to be driving on her own, and when the driver asked her where she was heading, she recited the area she was familiar with. Did she remember the building she wanted to go to? Yes. Did she know the exact address? Apparently not.

Although it was easy to spot the building. The old but clean apartment was recognizable, the sturdy wooden door, adorned with vintage brass fixtures, welcomed her after she tipped the driver her fair. The cool air hit her face, her hair flying around her shoulders as she spotted a residence walking out of the building. She quickly slipped in, seeking a very much-needed warmth, yet now she was starting to question her common sense.

But it was too late to turn back because her hand was already curling into a fist as she knocked on the door. Once, twice, three times. When there was no answer, she wasn't sure whether to be glad or disappointed. She knocked once again, and when she was met with silence, she decided it was a sign that she was indeed making the wrong decision.

So she exhaled a breath she wasn't even aware of holding, turned around, and completely froze when she was met with a familiar pair of hazel eyes. There he was, almost a week since the last time she saw him, standing on the last step of stairs.

Time seemed to stand still. Her heart skipped a beat, his presence exuded a captivating charm. His chiseled features were accentuated by a sculpted jawline, leading up to a pair of intense, deep-set eyes that seemed to hold a hefty amount of fatigue. Dark circles cast shadows beneath his eyes, hinting at nights spent wrestling with restless thoughts.

He was dressed in a rumpled shirt and loosely fitted trousers, his attire mirrored the fatigue he wore upon his face. The fabric seemed to hang upon his frame, lacking the crispness that usually accompanied his wardrobe. But despite his weariness, there was an undeniable pull emanating from his presence. It should be illegal how handsome he still looked even when he looked like he needed some rest.

Spencer took a tentative step closer, looking reminiscent of a puppy with his eyebrows pinched at each beginning in a way that can only mimic either confusion or concentration. "Y/n?"

"Hi," she awkwardly greeted, suddenly feeling out of place.

"What brings you here?"

"I..." she trailed off, her brows furrowed as she tried to find a reasonable answer. But somehow she found herself telling him the truth. "I honestly don't know."

His eyes fixed upon her, silently studying her figure. A cascade of lustrous hair framed her face, falling gracefully upon her shoulders.

"Do you want to come in?"

"I don't want to impose on you—" she stepped aside, letting him unlock his door. "Or disturb your much-needed rest."

A ghost of a smile curled on the corner of his lips as he fished out his keys. "I look terrible, don't I?"

"I wouldn't say terrible, just... you look very tired."

"I haven't had proper sleep in days." With a steady hand, he inserted the key into the lock before a satisfying click echoed in the air. With a gentle push, the door swung open, and he gestured to her with a nod.

She looked between him and his apartment. "Are you sure?"

"Come in," he offered. He walked inside his home and pulled the door ajar. "Please."

She studied him for a while before nodding. The floor creaked as she stepped into his household, and as the door swung shut behind her, she scanned the room that seemed familiar yet foreign at the same time. A sense of warmth enveloped her despite the predominantly dark colors that adorned the space. Soft, ambient lighting emanated from placed lamps, casting a gentle glow upon the room.

She walked past him and noticed the chessboard splayed across the coffee table. "I didn't know you play chess." She sat down on his couch. "Looks like you were in the middle of a game… was someone else here?"

He wasn't sure whether he heard a note of jealousy in her voice, but he smiled nonetheless.

"Actually, I was in a game with myself," he answered sheepishly, shrugging off his suit jacket before placing it over his couch. "Do you want anything to drink?"

"No, it's alright." She leaned forward, her gaze fixed upon the chessboard. Her eyes darted back and forth, analyzing the board with a keen interest before moving a chess piece, placed with precision and purpose.

Genuine surprise crossed his face as he settled beside her. "You know how to play chess?"

"A little. I used to play with my father growing up."

"You don't play with him anymore?"

She shook her head. "He passed away when I was young. Both of my parents did."

"I'm sorry," he gently spoke. He leaned back and turned his body toward her. "Do you have any siblings?"

"Nope, just me."

"I'm an only child too." Then he assessed her carefully while her eyes wandered beyond her striking features, a subtle tension betrayed a deeper complexity lurking beneath the surface. "Now are you going to tell me why you're here?"

He noticed the subtle language of her body where uncertainty weaved on her face. It was in the way she looked between him and her hands, a balance between wonder and reservation that hinted at the lingering doubt within. Then she took a deep breath, her brows furrowed as her voice filled in the silence.

"Does it make me a bad person that I didn't cry after everything that happened?"

He frowned, taken aback by the sudden question. "What do you mean?"

"There was a memorial service for Jamison a few days ago, and while everyone mourned, I just... stood there." She looked down at her hands. "What happened to him was very unfortunate, it just happened that, apparently, I have no emotions.”

His head fell back onto the couch as he watched her. "It doesn't make you a bad person. Grief is a deeply personal and individual experience, and people respond to loss in different ways. Crying is just one expression of grief, but it isn't the only definitive indicator of how much someone cared for or was impacted by the loss of a person, especially given how you saw what had happened."

"But it makes me feel kind of heartless." She glanced back at him. "I mean, he wasn't exactly the greatest boss, and I should've felt a certain kind of sadness, but I... I don't know how I feel, to be honest."

"Y/n," he gently called, his expression softening. "It's important to remember that everyone grieves in their own way. What matters most is that you find healthy ways to navigate and process your emotions surrounding the loss, whether it involves crying or not."

She hummed in response. "I guess you do have a point."

"I do, and I'm right most of the time." Spencer smiled when she rolled her eyes and a comfortable silence settled between them. "Now tell me the truth."

She quirked an eyebrow. "What truth?"

"You obviously have a lot on your mind right now and I'm trying to wrap my head around why you chose to be here."

"Do I need to have a reason?"

As his gaze lingered, he found himself drawn to her eyes—a delicate blend of curiosity and trepidation. They shimmered with a gentle vulnerability, revealing the depths of her longing to be seen and understood.

"I would like to know your reason."

She weighed her words carefully. "I couldn't sleep,” she decided to say. “My mind was constantly turning its gear, then it got too overwhelming?” She shook her head. “I-I guess I needed the comfort..."

As she tried to find her voice, her words become entangled in the turmoil of her emotions. With a deep breath, she gathered her courage. The words spilled forth, unfiltered and vulnerable, resonating with a sincerity that echoed through the room.

"And somehow you were the first person that came to mind."

Spencer felt an unfamiliar intensity washing over him—a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty that tugged at his heartstrings. And then suddenly, completely out of nowhere, the desire to embrace her consumed him, both thrilling and terrifying. It was such a baffling thought because he found hugs to be overwhelmingly intimate for his liking, yet there was this urge to hold her close, to feel the warmth of her body against his.

The weight of uncertainty pressed upon him, urging caution and restraint. But logic lost its battle with instinct, and caution lost its wrestle with impulsive longing as he found himself asking, "Can I give you a hug?"

Her body tensed, not believing the words coming out of his mouth. But as he kept staring at her, she realized that he was being serious. And she found herself nodding, yearning for the warmth radiating from his body.

He carefully drew closer and a magnetic force guided her movements, gently pushing her into his arms. Nervous excitement coursed through her veins, infusing a sense of vulnerability.

Bodies entwined, they breathe in unison, inhaling the essence of closeness as senses unfold—the warmth of skin against skin, the familiar scent that filled the air, the weight of the world momentarily faded away as they surrendered to the pure simplicity of human touch.

His head was spinning with longing and somehow he managed to pull her body gently onto his lap. She silently accepted his tug, placing her legs on either side of his thighs as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Amidst her relishing the gentle press of his body against hers, she couldn't help but find amusement in this new position.

He felt the subtle shake of her shoulder as a burst of soft laughter escaped her mouth. He suddenly tensed. "Is there something funny?"

The confusion etched in his voice had her pulling away, a small smile lingering on her face. "Yes," she answered. "It's amusing how you like having me on your lap so much.”

A slight warmth spread along his face as he became aware of her weight settling on top of him. "I didn’t notice."

She wasn't sure whether it was the glimmer in his eyes, the bashful smile on his lips, or the way he didn't pull his gaze away from her, but before it could register in her mind, she drew herself closer to him. The sudden shift of her movement caused a friction underneath her, and it was at that moment she realized how compromising of a position they were in.

Her fingers brushed against his skin, and an electric current surged through her veins, awakening a longing she had not anticipated. Her eyes flickered with a newfound intensity—a hunger that shimmered in the depths of her gaze as she could only focus on the pulse settling between her thighs.

As her longing deepened, she became acutely aware of his proximity. The scent of him enveloped her, intoxicating her senses, and her mind was consumed by allowing herself to surrender in this newfound need.

So she slowly rolled her hips, feeling his body beneath her, and suppressed a moan when she felt the outline of his bulge stroking against her core. Her breath hitched, betraying the innocent intentions that had initially brought them together.

She felt him tense from the friction and his heart thudding hard against his ribcage, her heart beating to the same rhythm. "Stop doing that," he suddenly said, eyes darkening as he stared at her, voice deep and raspy.

"Why?" She whispered.

A whirlwind of emotions churned within him. His heart ached to offer solace, yet primal longing tugged at his core, igniting an undeniable urge to keep her closer, to indulge in the sudden pull of desire.

"Because if you don't," he grunted, his hand sliding up her neck, burying it in her thick hair as he tilted her face. He pulled her closer, his thumb sweeping in long strokes along the side of her throat. The heat of her presence lingered on his fingertips, tempting him to pull her into an embrace that transcends mere comfort. "I won't be able to stop myself."

His gaze then traced the contours of her form. The subtle curve of a hip, the graceful arch of a back, the gentle swell of a chest—all become objects of fascination. He watched as her tongue wiped along her bottom lip while she slid her hands across his shoulders, stopping right on his chest, hovering above his heart.

"Then don't," she softly pleaded, moving her hips once again, igniting a moan deep within his chest. “I don't want you to stop."

It was the only push he needed as he closed the distance between them, finally crushing his lips to hers.

>> NEXT PART

taglist

@tereresrock @casthings @vader-is-hot @maevethelesbian @whereintheworldisspencerreid @reidverseq @niyahwhoreworld @l4venderia @theintrovertedthespian @lovelyxtom @tayzerr-72 @mulbsstuff @dorothleah @stevenknightmarc @prettyboyspenceee @gracesmusings @kalulakunundrum @fearlessmoony @r5court @simp4f1 @thecrazytealady @nyeddleblog @ghostheartbeat @comfortzonequeen @iiheartbowie @louderfortheback @busy-buzzing @alexis-exe2008 @imtherealslimmoony @baeofevery @cowstealer427 @thollandsdarling @ghxst-heart @cashtons-wife @kyuupidwrites @you-sunshine @comboboo @sebastiansstanswhore @panic-monster @marimorena06 @alice-ace299 @uncle-eggy @bollzinurmouth @julezs-bl0g @ruhrohragu @eternally-passionate @kazuumii @spencerr3idd @withered-rxse @broken-pieces @siredtomsgilbert @kaiya3333 @furiousbanditnickelknight @pinkangelavenue @slay-and-gay @woahnotmecryingoverafanfiction @zeysartzone

PLEASE READ: If any of you asked me to be added and you're not on the list OR you want to be added in the future, please comment on this post so I could see it. But make sure your blog can be searched by anyone or I can't tag you. Thank you :)

And don’t forget to interact with the story! <3

791 notes · View notes

woso-fan13 · 8 months

Text

Sicktember 2023: 6

Sick & Injured

Soccer- or football, since you play in London now- is more of a contact sport than one would think. It wasn’t uncommon to leave practice sporting a few new bruises, sometimes worse. You’re glad you play at Arsenal, facing Katie in practice is hard enough, you knew you would be constantly injured if you had to play her.

Apparently, though, it’s not just Katie you have to worry about. Because right as you go to head a beautiful cross right into the back of the net, Mary decides to clear the ball by punching it. Either would have worked individually, but when the actions are done together, it ends with you getting punched right in the side of the head. Really, really hard.

Impressively, you land on your feet. Almost instantly though, you begin stumbling as you try and maintain your balance. Thankfully the goalie gets a firm grip on your arms, guiding you to sit on the turf instead of face plant.

You can hear voices shouting indistinctly, but your head is too fuzzy to be able to make out words or voices. You try instead to focus on keeping your eyes open, your vision blurry as you watch two identical opposing goalies squatting in front of you. (Spoiler- there was, in fact, only one goalie.)

What you couldn’t see was Leah, Beth, and Viv on the sidelines, shouting frantically to their teammates. They were begging for any updates as to how you were. You had become somewhat of a little sister to them, and you were a constant third wheel whenever Beth and Viv went out.

Eventually, after you fail your concussion test instantly, you’re escorted off the pitch and led to a medical room. The three players follow, crowding in the doorway as they watch the medical staff flit around you. They knew how important it was that you were assessed and treated, but the three of them wanted nothing more than to rush into the room and push them away.

The next while is a blur for everyone involved, a slew of tests, instructions, and explanations. Finally though, the four of you are leaving the stadium, five working ACLs and three working brains between you all.

Leah insists that she is more than capable of taking you home and taking care of you. She eventually manages to convince Beth and Viv, only after promising that she would text frequent updates and that they could visit you in the morning.

The three women get you settled in Leah’s car, Beth and Viv standing in the doorway to say their goodbyes.

“Bye, little love. You get some sleep tonight and we’ll see you in the morning. Tell Leah if you need anything, and if you want us, we can be with you in 15 minutes, okay?”

You nod slightly at Beth, instantly regretting it and screwing your eyes shut. She frowns slightly, grabbing your hand and squeezing it. When you reopen your eyes, she gives you a kiss on the forehead before backing up and allowing Viv to take her place.

“Be good, Schatje, and I’ll see you tomorrow,” she keeps her goodbye simple.

You don’t make the same mistake again and you remember not to nod your head. You say a final goodbye to both women, assuring them that you’re okay, and then watch as they shut the car door gently.

Leah climbs into the driver’s seat, buckling her seatbelt before looking over at you. She reaches up and grabs her sunglasses, opening them and slipping them onto your face to block some of the light. She strokes a few of your flyaway hairs back, before setting off to get you home.

—-

Later that evening, you had settled into bed. Leah stubbornly insisted on you staying in her bed with her, just in case. You managed to fall asleep for about an hour before your eyes shot open upon feeling an all too familiar feeling.

Leah’s on the other side of the bed, scrolling through her phone. She notices as you suddenly wake up, and she knows what’s going to happen next. She watches as you close your eyes and take deep breaths through your nose, trying to fight through the concussion-induced nausea. From experience, she knows you will not be successful.

Your hand grabs the edge of the blanket, moving to pull it off of yourself. Your head is killing you, and the last thing you want to do is stand up, but it seems like your stomach is insistent.

Leah notices your actions, stopping you with a firm hand. She scoots next to you and sits propped against the bed frame. She tugs you up, allowing you to settle in a similar position leaning against her.

“No, Le,” you murmur, trying to move out of her grasp, “‘m gonna be sick.”

“Shh,” she soothes, “I know. Just hold on one second, you’ll be alright.”

Before you know it, she’s pressing something into your hand. Opening your eyes to a squint, you look down to an emesis bag, very clearly stolen from somewhere. Finally, you give in, allowing yourself to be sick as the pressure in your head builds.

Leah keeps her arm slung around you, rubbing her hand up and down your arm and whispering sweet words to you. You eventually stop, pulling the bag away and breathing heavily.

Leah grabs a tissue from the nightstand, gently wiping your face and throwing it in the bag before tying it and throwing that into the bin she had placed beside the bed.

“Alright?” she asks, keeping her voice low.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, clearly not alright.

A second later, “God, Leah, I’m so sorry. I just threw up in your bed.”

You feel more than hear the rumble of laughter.

“You did,” she agrees, “but I kind of made you, no? I knew you were going to be sick, that’s why I grabbed some bags from the medical team. It’s okay, we’ve all been here.”

“You’ve thrown up in your teammates bed before?”

“Well, no, I haven’t done that. I was so hungover once that I threw up on a teammate though. I meant that I’ve had concussions make me sick before, I know how awful it is. I doubt you’d be steady enough to get to the bathroom, and I won’t be much help moving quickly, so I figured you could just throw up in my bed.”

You’re quiet for a while, thinking. Leah had thought you’d fallen back asleep before you quietly said.

“Thanks, Leah. I love you, you know that, right?”

She presses her lips to your head and holds you just a bit tighter.

“I know, I love you too, bubba. Let’s get some sleep now, Beth and Viv are going to be over in a few hours.”

She lays the two of you back down in bed, your injured head resting on her. She uses her fingers to gently massage your temples, taking away some of the pain. She continues even after she feels your body relax and hears your breathing even out. Once she’s sure you’re deeply asleep, she brushes back the hair that she had messed up, and allows herself to fall asleep.

#woso imagine #womens soccer #woso imagines #reader insert #woso x reader #arsenal #arsenal fc #arsenal women #woso soccer #woso fanfics #woso #leah williamson #beth mead #viv miedema

322 notes · View notes