#and i know i said earlier that i’d have something out today

[screampied]

can you do soft sukuna after an argument vegas for fluff pretty please i think we deserve it after all you've done to us

໒꒱ ₊˚ ‘ MAYBE I’M THE PROBLEM﹒⺡ SUKUNA RYŌMEN. ’

sum. gn! reader, angst with c-comfort, he’s a softie at heart, fluff, petnames, ty lucy for beta'ing <3

“what’s with you today?” sukuna furrows his eyebrows, and he lightly grabs your wrist. you face him only to briefly look away with a stubborn scowl. “you didn’t have to do that. i can take care of myself.”

he was referring to earlier…how careless you were, at least from his perspective. throwing yourself in danger just for sukuna. perhaps it was stupid, but at that particular moment—you didn’t have a thought that crossed your mind.

“well, i did,” you mumble, and sukuna bites his tongue from the inside of his cheek. his nostrils flare before he grabs your shoulders.

“what are you not getting? and if you died trying to protect me, then what?” and for a brief moment, it was dead silence. you stared at sukuna, and you can’t remember a time he looked like this. sukuna was … scared. the more you looked into his dark eyes, once full of arrogance and wit — instead, his pupils dilated and widened. his thumbs gently pressed into your skin, and then he continues to speak. “how can you even be calm about something like that?”

“i wouldn’t have to do things like that if you’d just be more careful,” you chastise, a sudden wave of gloom spraying over you. sukuna kept pausing every few seconds, as if he was carefully thinking of what to reply with.

sukuna’s almost got a glare before he sighs. “i told you. i can take care of myse—”

“no, you can’t sukuna. you know how many times you’ve almost died? the countless days where i’d be worried sick about you. if anyone’s reckless, it’s you. and you wonder why i act like this, it’s because i’m in love with you, you idiot.”

you don’t even register your words, it’s as if you’ve been yearning to get that out for ages.

sukuna grows mute, trying to figure if he actually heard what he’d just heard. you…you were in love with someone like him?

the awkward silence was deafening, a single tear strolls down your cheek before sukuna’s face suddenly softens.

he brings a thumb up to your cheek, swiping the tear aside before muttering in a raspy, “you love me?”

“i thought it was pretty obvious,” you grumble, avoiding his eye contact. your heart ached, never in your life have you felt this vulnerable. saying it out loud only made you flustered immensely quick. a soft smile goes against his lips — you didn’t answer his question, but he knew the answer. you loved sukuna. “but whatever.”

“oi. don’t ‘whatever’ me,” sukuna mutters, cupping both sides of your face. he has you stare right into his eyes, the eyes where most see a cruel villainous person, you see the softest eyes imaginable. reserved only for you. “look at me,” and you finally meet his gaze, a smug grin slowly tugs against the corners of his mouth. “you’re in love with me.”

a weird tingly feeling crept up inside your stomach, and you give sukuna a glare. “you know,” he keeps speaking, a soft finger stroking your cheek. “instead of almost dying for me, you could have been normal and just said, ‘i love you’.”

“…shut up,” you grouse, entirely abashed. he found it cute seeing you like this. in the midst of your mini tantrum - sukuna hums to himself, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“hmpf. well, i suppose i love you too, brat,” he utters, watching your face briefly light up at his words. sukuna saying it back couldn’t have made your heart swoon even more, but it did. “and i’m sorry for being so careless.”

you felt butterflies collide inside your tummy before you blink, ears perking at his first initial words and you pout. “you suppose?”

sukuna looks down at you before he awkwardly pats your head. “i … love you,” his voice was a mere soft rasp. studying his stare, sukuna started to grow a tad bit embarrassed. even more than you. as his fingers softly roam through your hair, he leans up close to your face and scoffs. “happy now?”

“i love you more,” you smile, feeling more relieved. he’s taken aback once you hug him. sukuna’s always been so stiff at something as simple as a hug. your frame held his waist tightly, and he’d never admit it but it was adorable.

sukuna scowls. “…. you’re squishing me.”

“shut up and hug me back.” you sigh, only taking this as an opportunity to squeeze him tighter. he was so warm.

usually…sukuna wouldn’t let anyone get this close, yet alone do this. a simple affectionate hug.

he groans, slowly wrapping his arms around you. “you’re so annoying,” and as your head rests against his chest — you look up at him, a soft smile goes against your lips. “pain in my damn ass.”

“talking about your ass isn’t romantic, ‘kuna.” you raise your brows . . . obviously kidding, but he groans.

with an eye roll, sukuna does the unexpected and pulls you up close towards his face. with a perplexed grin, you watch as he grabs you into a chaste kiss. it takes you by surprise, your hands remain flat and still before you wrap your arms around him. sukuna’s soft with you, you made him soft—and he hated it, but a tiny part of him secretly loved it too.

abruptly, he pulls the kiss away before glaring at you. “i love you.”

“i love you too, kuku.”

“…..call me that again and see what happens.”

#★vegasbaby. #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk fic #sukuna fluff

[anastasiabowe]

𝘾𝙃𝘼 𝘾𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙂! — Your husbands who just can’t say no to your cute little face, but sometimes that comes with a cost you will have to pay.

note: This one came to me in a DREAM. I want a man like this, so why not make my man like this?🤷🏽‍♀️

Content warnings: overstim, piv, punishment, rich husband, spanking, tough love, swearing, anything else 17+

★ — 𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗜

Nanami loved when you were happy. It wasn’t even a happy wife happy life situation, it was a I love seeing her smile situation. He never denied you of any expensive item you wanted. I mean how could he say no to you? He watched as you practically skipped around the mall with his black card, showcasing it if anyone who glanced at you.

He smirked seeing you happy, but yet he felt a little disappointed by your lack of self control. He knew what he was getting into when he pulled out that million dollar ring. His strong arms were lined with black bags and name brands, your hands only holding his card and one small bag. He didn’t mind though, as long as you were happy!

But don’t think he lets you get away with everything! If you have an attitude after this shopping spree, which you do, he will punish you, and that’s because he loves you! It was an agreement, if you can spend his cash, he can use you, or what he likes to say, “enjoy you.”

“Nanamin!” You whined as your new set of black nails tried to push his stomach away.

“Yes?” His deep, yet professional voice oh so casually responded, despite his deep thrusts.

“P-please slow down! I can’t t-take it!” He chuckled at you, you were too cute to ignore, but this is what you deserve! You spent thousands of dollars today, and when he simply asked “are you almost done?” You give an attitude? Oh no, no, no. You weren’t going to get away with that.

“I’m sorry baby, just wanna show you who’s paying for everything you bought today. Just wanna show you who you were giving an attitude to.” He started to speed up, and you cried from the amount of orgasms you’ve had.

“Just one more, then you can have a break.” He kissed your head, and readjusted his position, you both know it won’t be one more.

★ — 𝗧𝗢𝗝𝗜

Toji hated when you spent his money. And what I mean by hate, I mean he will hand you his card and regret it later. You’re actually a modest shopper. You have a bit of an expensive taste, but you have respect for Toji enough to not go crazy. But when Toji had handed you his card at the mall and gave you and said something back handed, you went a little wild.

You bought new heels, expensive jeans, expensive make up, expensive bags. You swiped his card until your hand had a rectangular shape from how hard you gripped it while you tapped it to the card reader.

When Toji later that night checked all of the receipts (which you purposely got so he could see how mad you were) he nearly blew a fuse. $10,000 worth of items you bought. Even though that is nearly nothing compared to how much is in his bank account, it was the principle of it.

“I give you my fucking card only for you to use it like a fucking piece of plastic.” His hand smacked your left ass cheek, making you dig your nails into his thigh.

“I-I’m sorry!” You cried. He rubbed his hand over the deep red mark, and tsked.

“I bet you are.” He landed two more hits to your left and right cheek. You let out a whimper and he ripped both of your cheeks again.

“$10,000, y/n. What were you shopping for, a house?” He chuckled at his own joke, but you didn’t find this funny. He landed another smack. “What made you think that was ok?”

You sniffled from crying and the rage you felt earlier burned through your body again. “Maybe if you didn’t call me a gold digger, yo I wouldn’t be $10,000 poorer!”

The word “poor” irked something in him he hasn’t felt in a while. He grabbed your hair and pulled your head up.

“I’d watch your fucking mouth, I’m the one who fucking pays for your shit.” He spat, you frown, and your bottom lip slowly popped out. He knew what you were doing, but it wasn’t going to work.

“Nah, don’t pull that shit.” He smirked, but the longer he looked at your face the more guilty he felt.

“Y/n.” He warned. You continued to look at him with that face, and he sighed. “You spoiled brat.” He let go of your hair, and moved you to straddle him.

“Just don’t be spending my money all crazy ‘n shit.” You nodded, and he rolled his eyes.

You always fucking win.

#jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami kento #nanami smut #kento nanami x black reader smut #nanami x reader #nanami x you #toji x y/n #toji x you #toji smut #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji zenin #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x black reader

[evergone]

Hey!! Idk know if you are taking requests right now but can you write a Theo x Hufflepuff reader imagine where the reader is always telling him to make friends from other houses. He finally does make friends but with a beautiful Ravenclaw and starts spending more time with her. The reader starts feeling insecure and ignores Theo. He soon realises that she is ignoring him and talks to her.

Btw I love your writing and can you please tag me if you do write it?

Too Friendly

Theodore Nott x reader

Warnings: Swearing, allusions to sex but no sex.

Description: The reader wants Theo to make more friends but when he does, she becomes insecure about their bond.

Sorry this took so long to get out, I'm in the middle of my final exams of high school so I don't have much time. I enjoyed writing this one. Thanks for the request @orphicmortala

“It’s sad, Theo, you’ve got, like, no friends!” You said as you tried your best to remember how to tie your yellow tie.

“What do you call Malfoy, then?” Theo asked from the bed.

“An accomplice,” you replied with that unique snark that Theo loved about you, “You need friends from other houses— Friends that aren’t just me.” You added those final words hastily before he could open his mouth in protest.

Theo rolled his eyes and beckoned you over. His hands glided over the folds of your tie with expertise, undoing the mess of a knot you’d created in order to do it up properly and perfectly. When he was done, he looked up at you with his gorgeous, oceanic eyes and the corners of his mouth where both his beautiful lips connected turned upwards. You uttered your thanks quietly as you resisted the primal urge to just not go to class at all and instead spend the whole day with him. Your mind wandered off to imagine being stuck between Theo’s checkered emerald sheets, but you brought it back to reality.

Fending off your lustful desires as well as a nun would, you bid adieu to Theo and hurried out of his room and the Slytherin common room. On your way out, you dodged the teasingly crude jokes and names that Theo’s friends tossed towards you and told Pansy that she was no better than yourself (you’d seen the way she snuck out of that empty classroom after Draco a couple days earlier, her hair and clothes all dishevelled and her thighs rubbing together uncomfortably).

The whole day, Theo dwelled on your words. While you weren’t exactly dating or in a relationship, he always found himself bound to your every word and every whim. You seemed to dictate his life in a way that you certainly shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but listen to you. So, in Arithmancy, he didn’t sit next to Blaise as he usually did, instead electing to sit with Lisa Turpin, a Ravenclaw girl he’d seen you talk to a few times.

She looked at him in confusion, “Did you need something?”

He withheld the instinct to say some snide remark and instead replied, “I thought I’d make a new friend today.”

“On some random Tuesday… in our Sixth year?” Her face contorted to expose her obvious disgust.

“Merlin’s cock and balls, I’m trying to be nice, Turpin!” Theo frowned and picked up his bag to go sit elsewhere.

Turpin grabbed his wrist as he stood up and her lips made a thin line as she pulled him back down to the seat. Her brows knitted together like a homemade sweater and she breathed out a sigh of defeat.

“No, it’s okay, sorry,” she said, “Sit here if you’d like.”

Over the next week, Theo made some serious efforts to get to know Turpin despite his friends’ obvious, loud verbal opposition. After that first Arithmancy class, Blaise had practically torn him to shreds with his massive speech on house loyalty and the horrible impact that you were clearly having on him. Daphne had recited the same speech her mother had given to her on her first day of her first year at school about how interrelations with students from the lesser houses was a gateway drug to blood sympathy (she’d given him the same speech when he started his little thing with you). And Pansy, Merlin’s beard, Pansy was furious.

Pansy had constructed this whole idea in her mind that you hated that Theo was talking to Turpin. She called it “cheating” which Theo had adamantly disagreed with. He wasn’t having sex with Turpin, in fact, he had absolutely zero romantic interest in her. He barely even liked her. The only thing the two had in common was Arithmancy and every time they hung out they talked about it until there was no more Arithmancy to talk about. It was, quite frankly, boring. Turpin was boring.

“It’s emotional cheating,” said Pansy in a huff as she and the others started towards the Great Hall for Monday breakfast.

“Emotional cheating?” Theo asked skeptically.

“Yes, Nott, emotional cheating,” she nodded, “And it’s hurting Y/n’s feelings. That’s why she hasn’t spoken to you all week.”

His gaze snapped to focus on Pansy whose black eyes were ablaze with the feminine rage of a girl’s best friend, “How do you know she hasn’t spoken to me all week?”

Pansy smirked, her honey red lipstick bright against her pale skin, and shrugged. She knew you hadn’t spoken to him all week because you wouldn’t shut up about it. In Divination on Wednesday afternoon, you’d all but assaulted Pansy with questions about Theo’s newfound interest in Turpin. All of which Pansy had no helpful responses to.

“Is he flirting with her?” You asked.

“Maybe, I don’t know, it’s not like they sit with us,” said Pansy, struggling to focus on the crystal ball with all your chatter.

“Why not? Why don’t they sit with you? Are they trying to be private?” You pushed almost frantically.

“Uh, possibly? Honestly, I just think he knows we don’t like her,” she explained.

“Why don’t you like her? Is she a bitch?” You frowned and then quickly added in a judgmental tone, “Or are you just being blood supremacists?”

“Is she a mudblood?” Pansy stopped working to stare at you.

You smacked her hand and she hissed, “I don’t know her that well. Don’t say that.”

When Theo and his friends finally arrived at the Great Hall, he searched the tables for your face. While most people usually stuck to their house’s table, you were a social butterfly and loved to flutter from table-to-table to talk to all of your many friends. Sometimes he wondered how you weren’t a prefect despite your popularity and the respect the younger years gave you. His eyes found Turpin first and she beamed and waved him over, but he blatantly ignored her. Pansy and Daphne watched on with delight as the girl cringed with embarrassment and turned back to her meal with bright red ears.

A spot of h/c hair floated above a robe lined with yellow and he abandoned his friends to go to you. You were standing at the end of the Hufflepuff table (not an unusual place to find you, but your favourite table was always the Slytherin one), and you were utterly consumed by a tale you were sewing for your housemates Hannah Abbott and Justin Finch-Fletchley.

“Y/n,” Theo spoke and his deep, smokey voice tore you straight out of your conversation, “Can we talk?”

Your eyebrows quivered and your blinking sped up as you took his appearance in for the first time all week. You hadn’t gone so long without speaking to him in at least three years (you got into an argument in your third year about the petrifications) and hearing his voice and seeing him so close was like throwing a former alcoholic into a sea of wine. There was nothing you wanted more than to indulge in him. But Hannah and Justin were glaring at him like hawks, or guard dogs, whichever was more intimidating.

“Um,” you glanced back at your friends and Hannah shook her head slightly, she’d never much liked Theo, “Sure.”

Hannah rolled her eyes and whispered something barely audible to Justin. Something about a “love-fucked pushover.” You ignored her. Theo took you to a pair of seats far from any prying ears and held your hands in his.

“You know I don’t like Turpin, right?” He said quietly.

You scoffed, “Yeah, right. And that’s why you spent all week with her.”

“I spent all week with her because you told me to!” He laughed with salt that spread itself over your wounded heart.

“Did I just? Because I really don’t remember saying ‘Hey, Theo, you know how I like you so much? I actually want you to go talk to another girl,’” you said sarcastically.

He held back a grin as best he could but the amusement glistened in his eyes and on his rosy, mole-spotted cheeks. His hand came up to your brow and massaged the frown out from between your eyebrows as you fluttered your eyelashes at him in the way you knew made him melt inside.

“I wanted to make friends for you,” he told you with that soft, romantic tone he used in bed.

“Don’t,” you ordered, “You’re Theodore Nott, you aren’t supposed to be friendly.”

For the first time in a week, he got a good look at you. He hadn’t realised how much he missed the sight of your h/l h/c hair and the way it framed your stunning face so perfectly that you appeared to have stepped right out of a portrait. He hadn’t realised how much he missed how your eyes, an elegant e/c and perpetually glossy as if always on the verge of tears, examined every centimetre of his face. He hadn’t realised how much he missed doing your tie up for you until he saw it tied like a bow around your neck.

“I’m friendly to you,” he said as his hands pulled at the end of the tie and it fell apart over your chest.

“And that’s all you need, I think,” you whispered pleasantly and pressed a loving kiss to his lips as he looped the tie around itself twice and pushed the end through the gap, tying it perfectly.

#theo nott #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #theodore nott x reader #hp fandom #theo nott x y/n #slytherin x reader #draco malfoy x reader #harry potter x reader #theo nott imagine #theodore nott imagine #theo nott fanfic #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott x y/n #mattheo riddle x reader #regulus black x reader #tom riddle x reader

[daisies-daydreams]

Focus (König x F!Reader)

Pairing: König x F!Sergeant!Reader Category: Pure Smut (18+) Warnings: Swearing, Dom/sub, Inappropriate Work Relationships (König is your superior), Brat Taming, Unprotect P in V Sex (You Know the Drill), Vaginal Sex, Sex, Rough Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Spanking, Bondage, Cockwarming, Orgasm Control, Edging, Praise Kink, Mirror Sex, Full Nelson Position, Creampie Word Count: 2.9k+

A/N: I tried looking for this fic while I was updating my masterlist, but I could only find it on my AO3. :( I’m not sure if it got lost in the abyss or if I forgot to post it on here as well. Side note: König’s real name is Felix in this fic.

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

Your chest rose and fell along with the movements of your arms. Your muscles burned as you raised and lowered the barbell, but you needed something to get your mind off of what happened earlier. You glanced up as a large shadow overcast you.

“Care to explain why you were such a terrible shot during the marksmanship test today?” your commanding officer, Colonel König, asked in a gruff, low voice.

Speak of the devil.

His beefy arms were crossed against his chest as he glared down at you with his piercing, blue eyes. You puffed out a breath as you placed the barbell on the wrack. \ You could hear his lead boot thudding against the ground as he waited for your reply.

“I was a little…distracted today,” you said as you briefly glanced into his eyes. König huffed out a laugh as he shook his head.

“Distractions cost lives in the field, Sergeant,” he reprimanded. You bite your lip as you puffed your chest out, slowly rising up from lying down on the weightlifting bench.

“Well, if you have anything that would help me focus, I’d love to hear it,” you said as you took the weights off the barbell. You could feel his eyes boring into your back as you swayed your hips side to side while putting the weights away. The corners of your lips curled up a bit as a large hand rested on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly as the fabric of his mask brushed against your neck.

“I have a training regiment in mind. A very…special one that would help. Especially for a brat like you,” he husked into your ear. You licked your lips as you turned, your ass just barely grazing over his covered crotch.

“And how soon should I start this regiment, Colonel?” you whisper in a lithe tone. König’s eyes narrowed as he pushed his hardening cock against the plush of your behind.

“As soon as possible,” he murmured.

---

The door to König’s room slammed with so much force you thought the door would fall off its hinges. His posture was rigid as he turned back to you.

“Take off your clothes. Now,” he commanded sternly as he unbuckled his belt. Your fingers deftly worked to peel your shirt and workout tights off of your body. The colonel scoffed when you remained in your workout bra and panties. He stepped forward, his pants loosely hanging over his rugged hips. “It seems you have more than just an issue with focus, Hase,” he rubbed his palm against the leather belt as he stepped forward. You shifted your thighs together as he loomed over you, his rough hands pushing you onto the bed.

“Turn around and bend over for me like a good little soldier,” König rasped. You turned and stuck your ass out as you bent over, your breasts pushing against the comforter you’ve grown so familiar with over the past few months. You heard the belt squeak in his tightened grip before he snatched your wrists in his hands. You could feel your pussy get even wetter as he tied the belt around your hands, securing it with a firm nod. His fingers traced down your hands and over your back, goosebumps rising in the wake of his surprisingly gentle touch.

“I’ve seen you slacking off, Sergeant,” he began. You heard the soft sound of his boots thudding against the hardwood floor as he shuffled behind you. You tried to stifle a gasp as he roughly grabbed your asscheeks and kneaded them. “Are you really that desperate for my cock?” König scolded before laying a sharp slap across your bum. You bit your lip as the pain stung against your plush skin. The colonel behind you groaned as he spread your cheeks apart, no doubt gazing at the small wet patch in the crotch of your panties.

“Judging by how soaked you’re getting, my assumptions are correct,” he chuckled mockingly. You gasped as he suddenly pulled you onto his lap. He was still fully clothed, yet you could feel his prominent, growing erection beneath his rough pants.

“But you’re going to have to earn it-earn having my big, fat cock stuffing that tight little cunt of yours,” König husked as he smoothed his hand over the sore spot on your behind. You resisted the urge to wiggle in his hold as he raised his hand. “By being obedient,” he said before slapping your ass again, letting his palm linger and pressing into the raw handprint. You whined and nodded.

“Y-Yes Colonel,” you moaned. König grunted as he squeezed your ass.

“Good girl. Now, count how many spankings I give you. If you mess up, I’ll start all over again. Am I clear?” he huffed.

“Yes sir,” you said. König groaned as he rubbed his hand up and down the globes of your butt.

“Gut,” he rasped in his native tongue before slamming his palm against your ass [Good]. You arched your back as your toes instantly curled.

“One!” you cried out. Another crossed your other cheek in a matter of seconds. “Two!” you yelped as your body lurched forward. Heat spreads from the top of your head to the tips of your toes with each slap against your ass, your pussy soaking the soft fabric of your underwear. Soon your ass is left alone, raw and sore from all of the spankings. Your hands strain against your back as your superior pushes your panties to the side again, his fingers now sliding against your wet slit. You shiver and clench your fists as he chuckles.

“Sensitive, are we?” König mused as he spread your folds apart with his thick digits. A small noise leaves your throat when you hear the sound of fabric tearing. You whip your head around to see part of your panties held snugly in his fist.

“There are consequences for disobeying, Hase,” he tsked [bunny]. The expression on your face drew an amused twinkle in his eye. “You thought the spankings were your punishment?” König hummed as the pads of his fingers circled around the ring of your entrance. He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Nein-I’ll make sure it’s much more…effective,” he rumbled [No]. You whined when he drew long strokes up and down your slit, circling your swollen, sensitive clit every once in a while.

“O-Oh my God,” you squealed as he pinched your nub. You heard him chuckle behind you as his other hand massaged the back of your thigh.

“We’re going to do another exercise, hase,” your commander groaned [bunny]. Your lips parted as he slowly shoved two of his fingers into your entrance, letting them linger just inside the tight ring. “I want you to count every stroke of my fingers inside your pussy,” he husks, his hot breath fanning over your neck. You nod, your lip hurting from how hard you were biting it. You moaned loudly as he suddenly began to pump his fingers inside of you quickly.

“Uh, uhm-one two three four five six seven-” you tried to keep up with each stroke, your mind getting foggy with arousal.

“Speak louder!” he barked as he pressed his thumb down on your bundle of nerves.

“EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN-” you shouted, your voice dry and hoarse as he shoved his fingers deep inside your wet hole. Your voice stammered as you grew closer to your orgasm with each number, your muscles tightening as every fiber in your being screamed for release. And suddenly…it stopped. Your eyes shot open as you felt him yank his digits from your pussy. The colonel sighed as he stared down at the slick on his fingers.

“What a shame: you missed fifteen,” he mused. You gritted your teeth as your nostrils flared. König huffed before picking you up like a little kitten. He set you down on the bed as he stripped his clothes. You gaped at the sight of his throbbing erection as it sprang free from the confines of his boxers. König chuckled as he watched you wiggle against the mattress for any form of friction.

“Such an impatient little thing,” he clicked his tongue. You yelped when he picked you up again. He spread his legs wide open as he sat on the edge of the bed. You caught a glance of your naked form in the full-length mirror in front of you. König sighed as he slowly sank you down on his member. You winced as just the head breached your entrance, spreading you wide open for the rest of his shaft to sheath inside of your pussy. Both of you groaned as he bottomed out, his plush balls resting against your slick labia.

“Guess I’m going to have to teach you some patience, too,” he hummed as he let your legs drape over his own. Your brows furrowed in disappointment when he simply lets his cock rest inside of your gummy walls.

“K-König,” you mewled as you wiggled your ass against the divots of his abs. The giant man inhaled deeply as he squeezed your hips.

“Stay still, soldier,” he growled. You bit the inside of your cheek as he kept your hips from rolling. The pressure inside you was boiling and rising to the surface as he made you warm his massive member. The slight sting of the stretch faded though until you found your walls relaxing. They suddenly clench when you hear the soft hum of a vibrator. Before you have time to react, you feel the tip of the toy kiss against your clit. König smirked as he leaned his head down.

“You see that, Hase? See how much my thick cock bulges inside of you?” König husked into your ear [bunny]. You whimper as he pushes the vibrator deeper against your clit, your bundle of nerves puffy and throbbing from how much he’s been teasing you. You feel his other hand come up and grip your jaw, forcing you to look into the mirror. You shudder as you stare at the reflection of his girth stuffing your tight, dripping cunt.

“Answer me when I’m speaking to you, Sergeant,” your commanding officer rumbled as he squeezed your cheeks mockingly. You swallowed thickly, throat tight and mind clouded with an intoxicating pleasure.

“Y-Yes sir. I see it,” you breathed out. You whimpered when he pulled the vibrator away from your aching cunt. A high-pitched squeal escaped from your bitten lips as he laid a slap against the top of your pussy.

“Tell me exactly what you see, Sergeant (L/N),” the Austrian groaned as his hands rested on the top of your thighs, his long fingers drumming over your goose-bump ridden skin. Every stroke and dip of his digits sparked a fire that danced across every nerve in your body.

“I-I can see your cock inside of me,” you mewled. König hummed and traced his fingers against the inside of your thighs.

“What else?” he purred, his teeth raking down your pulse as his hands danced up your sides. You squeezed your legs over his muscular thighs. He groaned into your ear as he took your hard nipples between his calloused fingers.

“I-I see you playing with my tits,” you whined. You squealed when the Colonel pinched your nipples as he “tsked” you.

“Oh Sergeant, I know you can do better than that. You’re such a clever girl,” he whispered, voice husky and drenched with lust. “Tell me everything now-what you see, hear, smell…” You whined as he puckered his lips onto your neck, sucking on it harshly while his cock twitched inside of your gummy walls. “Feel,” he murmured.

“I-I’m spread wide open in front of a mirror,” you begin. König grunts as he trails a line of fresh hickeys down your sweat-covered skin. You take a deep breath. “My thighs are spread over yours, your p-plump balls resting just below the place where our sexes are snug,” you keen as he licks a bold stripe over the bruises, his fingers massaging your tender areola. “I can feel the head of your cock kiss my cervix like you want to breed me,” you continued. You moan when he suddenly bucks his hips upwards into your heat.

“Yes,” he groans as he shallowly thrusts into you. “Keep going,” he commands with a light slap to your upper thigh. You bite your lip as you gaze at the lewd scene in front of you.

“I-I can feel every vein of your thick cock drag against my plush walls-oh!” you moan as he tugs on your nipples again. The noise he makes is akin to a purr as he bucks up into your core, eliciting a solo of moans from your plump lips.

“That’s right. Good girl. Good fucking girl,” König growled, his hands now falling to your hips as he squeezes them roughly. Your head falls back against his shoulder before he pulls your face back up.

“Keep looking,” he hissed, voice wavering as his thrusts became faster. You panted and moaned, your voice reverberating across his bedroom walls. You tried to bounce on his cock to match the pace of his thrusts, but your thighs wouldn’t stop shaking. You gasped when you felt your colonel wrap his arms beneath your knees and lifted you up, only to slam you back down on his meaty rod.

“Mmm, such a pretty, tight cunt,” he moaned as his hips snapped up, eyes glued to the piece of glass in front of you. “And it’s all mein,” König snarled. Your head was reeling as he slammed his cock into you repeatedly. You flushed at the sight of your cream coating his long shaft, dripping down and lathering his twitching ballsac. You keened loudly as he bit into your shoulder.

“Say it, say you’re mine,” he groaned, voice commanding and hungry. You bit your lip as you tried to steady your mind.

“I-I’m yours…Felix,” you said with a shaky breath. The growl from his throat was damn near feral when his real name fell from your lips. You were rewarded with him speeding up his thrusts, his arms curling and tightening around your thighs.

“Du gerhöst mir...mir allein!” König roared as his cock plunged deep into your core [You are mine…and mine alone]. Your vision grew blurry as you watched the way your breasts bounced and jiggled. Your muscles were tightening into an inescapable knot as you sped towards your orgasm. “Look in the mirror when you cum around my cock, liebling,” he grunted. You blinked through the veil of tears that coated your eyes as your body stiffened.

“Yes, that’s it-let go for me,” your commander panted as he shoved his dick against your womb. You yelled as the cord inside of you snapped into a million tiny pieces, your body shaking with ecstasy. König’s thrusts grew more sloppy as your walls gripped at his shaft. His chest rumbled as you cried out, pure pleasure surging through your veins.

“Ahhh yes, feels so good when your warm cunt hugs my cock like this,” König praised as he kissed your neck. You moaned with each of his thrusts as the waves of your orgasm continued to rock through you.

“K-König,” you slurred in a high-pitched whine, his thrusts getting sloppier with each one. His balls tightened below you as his breathing became ragged.

“Gonna fill this pussy up, make it leak with my fucking cum,” he grunted with a strained voice. You shivered as pleasure rippled down your spine and straight into your core as your second orgasm crept up on you.

“Yes, oh Gott yes!” König roared as he suddenly snapped his hips forward [Oh God]. His arms clenched around your legs so tightly as his cock throbbed inside of your well-fucked cunt. “Yes…” he panted as he filled you to the brim with his warm, thick cum. You shook with ecstacy beneath him as you felt his seed start to dribble from between the seam where your sexes were joined.

“Such a good little soldier,” König muttered as he kissed your cheek. You turned your head so he could capture your lips in a proper kiss. You keened into his mouth as he lowered you into his lap. You sighed, letting his dick soften inside of your tight walls. Just as you went to pull yourself off of him, his hands instantly flew to your hips.

“Nein, I want my cock to stay inside of you for a little bit longer,” he whispered as he gently massaged the bruises over your hips [No]. You shivered as you felt some more cum leak onto the edge of the mattress as he kissed along your neck. You closed your eyes as your head fell back against his shoulder.

“I think you’ve learned your lesson…for now,” König purred softly as he gave one final peck to your temple. Your mind was now drifting further away as he gently slipped your back onto the mattress. Your throat tightened when he shoved his cum back inside of your tender hole with his two thick fingers.

“Now, listen carefully: you’re going to get dressed and cleaned up…and then you’re going to retake that test while my cum stays inside of that tight, little cunt of yours,” his lips danced over the shell of your ear. “Do you understand, Sergeant?” he asked. You shivered and nodded.

“Yes, sir,” you panted. König cracked a grin before gently patting your cheek.

“Gut kleiner Hase,” he murmured [good little bunny].

----

Thank you for reading! ❤️

Edit: Thank you so much @dangern00dl3 for correcting my German!

#call of duty #cod #call of duty modern warfare 2 #reader insert #cod x reader #cod smut #könig mw2 #könig x reader #könig x fem reader #könig x you #könig x y/n #könig cod #könig #könig call of duty #könig fanfiction #könig smut #konig cod #konig x reader #konig mw2 #cod mw2 #cod mwii #mw2

[hxzbinwrites]

Hiiii! Could I request a oneshot where Husk reunites with a gn! S/o he had back when he was alive? The reader decides to stay at the Hazbin Hotel as a way of staying protected from the rest of the sinners and overlords in hell. After Charlie introduces them to everyone, they stop at the bar for a shot and they recognize eachothers voices.

(It can be fluff or angst)

Tysm!^^✨️

Husk x Gn! Reader | Quitting |

Warnings ⚠️: Drinking, Alcohol Abuse, Cussing

(Y/n) is a mess. Just a plain mess. That’s what everyone though at least. Just a drunk weaving in and out of the next bar, blurring the lines between today and tomorrow, reality and fiction.

Groggily they drag their feet along the pavement, tired eyes desperately searching for a cheap enough bar that will still take them in. So far, no luck has been found. Most of the bars are either too expensive for someone who already blew everything they had on alcohol, or already know who they are and refuse to let them into their establishment.

And don’t even think about a place to stay. (Y/n) hasn’t been able to afford rent in years, not even a cheap motel to stay at. It’d be a blessing if somewhere that was a free stay just popped out right infront of them and just offered a place-

“HELLO!!”

“AH! WHAT THE HELL?” (Y/n) said, scowling at the cheerful face infront of them. It was Lucifer’s daughter, Charlie Morningstar. “Listen kid, don’t you know not to sneak up on folks!”

“Ah! I am so sorry!!” Charlie said, tucking her papers with drawings of rainbows made with crayon under her arm as she grabbed (Y/n)‘s hands.

“I’m here to make you an offer!” She said, smiling once more. Her cheerful demeanor was very different from (Y/n)’s deadpan expression.

“Listen kid, I don’t got much money. I find some here and there and then I blow it on booze, if you need investments, why don’t ya go to an Overlord or something, I ain’t got time for all of this.”

“Oh I don’t need any money!” Charlie said,”I need you! I’m working on a project to help rehabilitate sinners!! Help them go to Heaven!! And I’d like you to participate!”

“Why would I do that?” (Y/n) said, raising an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you start off on an easier case or something, I just don’t think that’s a good idea-“

“You can stay there for free!-”

“Alright lets go.” (Y/n) said, taking their hands out of Charlie’s grasp before she started to crush them in a hug.

“YAY!!! ANOTHER GUEST AT THE HOTEL!!!” She squealed, making the drunk’s head throb at the loud noise.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough Princess. Lets go to this ‘hotel’ of yours.”

——————

Charlie kicked open the doors to the Hazbin Hotel, skipping in alongside (practically dragging along) the newest guest, (Y/n).

“EVERYONE!!!!” Charlie shouted,”EMERGENCY MEETING!! WE HAVE A NEW GUEST!!”

(Y/n) covered their ears, their eyes squinting in annoyance at the Princess’s very loud entrance.

Mostly everyone slowly made their way to the lobby, Vaggie being the first to enter.

“Hey. I’m Vaggie. I’m Charlie’s girlfriend. If anyone here gives you trouble, let me know, I’ll handle them.”. For someone so laid back and monotone, you really wouldn’t expect her partner to be the hyper princess who was literally jumping up and down.

(Y/n) and Vaggie conversed for a bit before Sir Pentious, Angel Dust, Alastor, and Nifty entered as well.

They all talked and got to know each other before in the corner of their eye, (Y/n) caught sight of a bar. A BAR!! They quickly excused themselves and hopped behind the counter, quickly mixing a drink.

“Excuse me, who are you and what are you doing behind my counter?” A deep voice said, instantly making (Y/n) freeze in their tracks.

“Husk?” They asked, turning around expecting a familiar face only to be met with a casio themed cat.

“(Y/n)? Is that really you?”

“Husk!!” They said, reaching over the counter to give him a hug, much like the one they were internally complaining about with Charlie earlier.

“It’s good to see you old friend. How’s Hell been treatin’ ya?”

“Shitty” They replied,”since I died, I’ve been a drunk and living off the streets for a few years. Well decades now. Oh well, I’m here now!”

Husk narrowed his eyes at her,”so you’re telling me that my old drinking buddy has been living off of these dangerous streets! Hell (Y/n), I’m glad that Charlie found you. Now, move away from the counter, let me make you a drink to commemorate you quitting drinking.”

“No fair!” (Y/n) said, plopping down on the bar stool,”quitting? We all know that’s impossible. I was a drunk when I was alive, I’m a drunk now that I’m dead-“

“And you’ll become sober when you go to Heaven. I….I really care for you (Y/n), you shouldn’t stay in this shithole. Go up to those pearly gates. For me please?” He said, sliding them their favorite drink.

“Sure Husk, I’ll do it for you. But if I do it, you gotta promise to come with me right after okay? No more gambling.”

Husk sighed, closing his tired eyes,”Fine. I’ll do it for you. You better be glad though (Y/n), I wouldn’t do this for nobody except you.”

They smiled, looking into Husk’s eyes as he smiled back. They both knew that they were gonna keep their promises.

—————

Word Count: 823

(sorry it’s so short 😭)

#hazbin hotel husk #husker hazbin hotel #hazbin husk #huskerdust #hazbin husker #husker x reader #husk x reader #husk #husker #hotel hazbin #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hôtel #demon! reader #demon reader

[lsk3nn3dys]

𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙰, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙳

Dr. Veritas Ratio x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your stuck-up philosophy professor is impossible and makes your class incredibly difficult, so to get your grade up there's only one thing left that you can do.

Warnings: slight age gap (dr. ratio is probs late 20s-early 30s and reader is early 20s), dubcon, dom!dr ratio, sub!reader, blowjobs, petnames (darling, slut), cum swallowing, praise kink, degradation kink, doggy style, missionary, vaginal sex, sir kink, cervix fucking lowkey, and creampie

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Is this basically literary porn (especially with a title like this)? Yes. Yes, it is. I do not regret anything. Lmao, I put a LOT of effort into this (more than I thought I would)

Your philosophy professor is among the most conceited and arrogant people you have ever met. Whenever he gives a lecture, he refuses to slow down when asked and expects everyone in the class to understand what he just taught everyone. He’s an impossible teacher. At first, you were excited to take his class since it’s hard to get into (given you need special permission to attend). Not to mention his striking good looks, which at first captivated everyone. However, his personality did not make up for his good looks.

Your grade is not good, and you need a way to change it. Dr. Ratio didn’t give any extra credit opportunities, but maybe if you meet with him, he’ll change his mind.

So, you wait until after one class so you can corner him. Usually, you would email him, but he’s not the most reliable with that, meaning cornering is the only practical way.

As everyone files out of the lecture hall, you walk over to him. His deep eyes look over the notes he showed earlier as he huffs a bit. His long fingers grip the thin paper as if he’s handling a soft feather. You’re starting to rethink your decision, but by then, Dr. Ratio had noticed you staring at him.

“Miss Y/N?” he asks. You look at his face, and his eyes watch your face change to one of embarrassment and insecurity. “Is there something you need?”

“Uh, I…wanted to ask…” your nerves make it difficult for you to speak up. His expression shows one of boredom. His eyes tell you that time is precious. You take a breath, trying to gain some confidence. “I wanted to ask if we could meet to discuss some things.” Your voice was faulty, but you made your point. Dr. Ratio gives you a small smile.

“Is that right?” he asks.

“Yes,” you say more confidently. “I’m willing to meet at any point whenever we both have the time.”

“I see,” he says and leans back away from you. He thinks for a bit before saying something. “How about now?”

“Huh?” you’re shocked by his presumptiousness.

“I have nothing more today, so we talk in my office now. If you’re free, I’d hate for you to miss your other classes,” he says. His eyes burned bright under his shaggy blue hair.

“I’m free now,” you reply almost meekly.

“Perfect. Why don’t we head to my office then?” he suggests. You nod and become flustered while walking behind him, following him. You didn’t expect him to agree just like that, not to mention you’re going to be alone with him in his office. He leads you up to his office and opens it to reveal a quaint little space. There are two bookshelves on the back wall across from the door, a desk with two chairs that lean against the window, and a small sofa on the other side of the room across the windows. He uses his hand to gesture inside, which you do. You hug your bookbag and softly sit on the chair that faces the windows. Dr. Ratio closes the door before sitting across from you at his desk.

“So, what would you like to discuss?” he asks, his hands clasped together on the desk.

“Well,” you start. “I wanted to ask if I can get some extra–” he cuts you off.

“I don’t give extra credit. I said that on the first day,” he says matter-of-factly.

“I-I know, but I really want to get my grade up and pass with a decent grade,” you plea. “I don’t want my GPA to drag down.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but–” you cut him off this time.

“Please, I’ll do anything. I really need to pass this class,” you plea still. He chuckles.

“You really should not use the phrase ‘I’ll do anything,’” he tells you. “It might give someone the wrong impression.” Your face grows hot when you realize the implications he’s talking about. You think about it briefly, concluding that there is no way that would even work.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things…” you trail off, making the awkward silence even worse. You look down at the desk, contemplating how to drop his class without making it affect your transcript. Dr. Ratio eyes you for a bit; your innocence intrigues him. Your presumptuousness not only caught him off guard initially (in a good way), but now your lack of expertise in conversation in his presence is amusing in some way. He laughs again.

“How about this…” he gets up from his desk and walks closer to you. He stands right beside you before continuing. “You can try with everything you have to try and really convince why you deserve a higher grade, hmm?” Your eyes widen largely at his proposal. “And I mean everything.”

“I…” you can’t the shakiness of your words.

“Of course, you don’t have to, but who’s to say you’ll get a better grade?” he says, half joking. Everything up til now seemingly has been happening so fast. However, you do need this grade desperately. You look up at him, and his frame seems much taller now that he’s so close. Your embarrassment and cute demeanor really are quite something.

“What do you want me to do?” you ask. His gold eyes stare down at you, the cogs in his mind turning to figure out what he would like you to do first. After some deliberation, he figures it out.

“Why don’t you use that cute mouth of yours?” he asks. You look up at him with surprise.

“Al-Alright,” you agree, put aside your bag, and slowly slide off the chair onto the floor. You make eye contact with him again, and he gestures to you with his chin for you to do what to prepare. “Professor?” you ask meekly.

“Yes?” he replies.

“Shouldn’t we lock the door?” you ask.

“Smart idea, Miss Y/N,” he compliments, making you grow warm. He swiftly moves to the door and turns the latch on the lock. He notices your reaction to his compliment. “Oh? Like being praised?” Even warmer now. “How cute.”

He returns to you, and the tent in his pants makes you a bit nervous, but you are not turning back now. You take his belt off and unzip his dark blue pants, revealing his boxers. You cup his bulge and prepare yourself. Your professor huskily breathes out when he feels your hand touch him. You move his cock out from his boxers and let his clothing fall to the floor. His cock leaks tiny beads of precum, and you lick your lips. You shift in your position, your thighs clenching. You look up at him as you begin to lick the tip. His gold eyes look down at you, his dark hair almost covering his eyes.

You swirl the tip with your tongue and watch his face grow red and his eyes close.

“Don’t tease me,” he mutters. “You got to earn that good grade.” You hum in response, and the vibration of your mouth makes your professor shudder a bit. You open your mouth more and take his cock farther into your mouth. Your eyes prickle with tears as his cock reaches deep into your throat. You motion back, and his tip is at your tongue again, causing you to tease the tip again. You use your hand to jerk him off while your tongue is preoccupied. Your professor smiles darkly and clicks his tongue.

“You’re not going fast enough, darling,” he tells you. The petname makes you wince. “Don’t make me fuck your mouth myself. I won’t be as gentle.” With his words, you find a new confidence and once again lower your mouth so his cock goes deeper. “That’s a good girl.” You moan at his words again and use your hand and mouth to begin a rhythm of going up and down his cock. His husk is breathing, and low moans are urging you on. The sound of his cock reaching your throat makes your head spin. You can’t help the moans that are coming from you.

“Jesus, fuck,” your professor curses. “Talented aren’t you?” His head tilts back, and his hand grips the edge of his desk. You don’t stop your motions even when your spit begins to leak from your mouth and onto the floor. His cock begins to twitch within your mouth, and you know he’s about to cum. He grabs your chin and stops your mouth. He motions for you to open your mouth while you spit strings along his wet cock. Your hand pumps his shaft as he shoots his load into your eager mouth. His smile is dark as he inspects his cum in your mouth. “Swallow it,” he commands. You do so without any more prompting. Your throat stings while your seating position makes your thighs burn.

You catch your breath as you stand up. Your professor clicks his tongue again.

“You’re not done, you know,” he says. “I intend to take you in more ways than just one.” You didn’t expect him to say that. “Turn around and lean against the desk.”

You do as he says and lean your palms against the cold desk with your plush butt out for him. He fondles you before grabbing your shorts and panties and swiftly pulling them down.

“You take direction so easily, don’t you?” he asks from behind you, his words beside your ear. “Maybe you’re dirtier than I initially thought.” He moves his hand to the front of your body, traveling down to your exposed pussy. He rubs two fingers over your pussy lips, finding it dripping with wetness. He kisses your neck and holds your hip with his other hand, and thrusts his cock into you. You knock slightly forward from the shock, but your professor’s strong arms hold you steady. “My darling little slut.”

You moan, feeling his cock inside you and his hand on your clit.

“Pro-Professor,” you moan.

“Call me Veritas,” he whispers.

“Veritas,” you repeat. Hearing his name fall from your lips is almost like the perfect aria.

“That’s a good slut,” he says, and the combination of words makes you quiver. He moves his cock out of you and slams back into you with his waist clapping against your ass. You whimper at the feeling. Veritas wanted to get you used to his cock, but he wanted to fuck you so badly and make you his. He grips you tightly and begins his fast assault of thrusts. You cry out, feeling his cock going in and out of you at such a rapid pace. The sound of his snaps snapping into you becomes louder with every thrust.

As you moan loudly, Veritas curses behind you.

“Fuck,” he says. “You’re so hot and tight, shit.” He can’t help the moans that slip from his mouth either. “You feel so fucking good.” His fingers begin to circle your clit almost to a similar rhythm to his thrusts.

“Ah! Ve-Veritas,” you moan. Your thighs start to spread to give his cock and hand more access to you. You seem to love his cock as much as he loves your pussy.

“Feels good?” he asks, amused.

“Mm! Fuck, yes!” you cry. He circles your clit faster, expert fingers playing the bundle of nerves easily as if he’s playing an instrument he’s all too familiar with.

“Want to cum, darling?” he asks. His thrusts shift, and he can hit a spot within you that weakens your knees.

“Ye-Yes! Please! Please let me cum!” you beg. His chuckle feathered your neck.

“Then cum all over my cock,” he tells you. His fingers pinch your clit, and your elbows shake. You quickly cum all around his cock, coating it sweetly. You loosen from his grip and fall to the desk under you. Your heart is beating a mile a minute with heavy breaths, and your pussy is still gushing your orgasm. Veritas admires your fucked out self. You shift your body so your back presses against the desk and see your professor’s expression. He is obsessed with how he made you feel and how you made him feel. You notice his hand is gripping his still-hard cock that is covered in your essence. His hair sticking to his forehead, giving him a glow. You want him even more.

You grab your top and force it off yourself. He watches you remove your clothing, eyeing you like his prey. You remove your bra just as fast, and he loves that you’re so willing. He leans down and kisses you for the first time. His fingers find your nipples and rub them, making you moan into his mouth. He breaks the kiss and begins to kiss your neck and shoulder. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling on his button-down shirt.

“Dirty, dirty girl,” he whispers. His cock slowly pushes into you like before. Your pussy quivers at the feeling of cock pushing through it’s overstimulated walls. He kisses you as he moves his cock to pick up a rhythm for you both. His kisses are wet and needy as his tongue explores your mouth with precision. You hum and moan as you feel Veritas reach deep into your pussy. His hands continue to grope your chest and pinch your nipples. He’s so good at everything. One of your hands finds his blue locks and clutches them desperately. You feel your body heat up from everything. He breaks the kiss once again as he moans in your ear.

“Ah, shit, you’re pussy’s so hot,” he says. “Fucking Christ.” You hug your legs around his waist, keeping him close.

“It’s all for you, sir,” you say between broken moans.

Oh. Sir? That changes everything.

“Call me that again,” he commands, his thrusts cease immediately.

“S-Sir,” you mutter. He kisses you again. His hips move back up again, and every thrust kisses your cervix, knocking you back. The sound of your hips meeting and the sound of your wet pussy getting fucked fills your ears. More than your or Veritas’ moans. His pace becomes erratic, and his cock begins to twitch within you. His hands grip your body tighter as he chases his orgasm. He bucks his hips deep into you once more and cums hard inside you. His low moan resonates despite his mouth being preoccupied.

You both pull apart from the kiss to bask in each other’s afterglow. Both looking into each other’s eyes. Still hardly believing what just transpired truly transpired.

After a few minutes, your professor pulls his cock out of your pussy, making you both wince from the loss. His cum drips and drools out of you when his cock is entirely out of you. He caresses your thighs and hips.

“Did I do well?” you ask. He chuckles before answering.

“Most certainly,” he replies. “Though if I’m being honest, I think a few more private sessions like this would benefit your grade highly.” You giggle.

“I am certainly willing to do that,” you answer.

‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙‧̍̊ ‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙‧̍̊ ‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙‧̍̊ ‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙‧̍̊ ‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙‧̍̊

© kunikuwushi 2024, all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, use for ai, copy, translate, or repost my content on any platform. comments, reblogs, and likes are loved

#dr. ratio #veritas ratio #dr. ratio x reader #veritas ratio x reader #ratio x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail smut #hsr smut #ghostqueues

[antxlss]

north face jacket

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

summary: while at a party at the boneyard, rafe gives you his jacket. you took it even though you aren’t very fond of him. this led to things you would’ve never imagined.

warnings: suggestive comments

words: 1.2k

a/n: i’ve been inspired by this jacket because rafe looks so hot in it. as always, thank you for reading! if you have any requests, please do not hesitate to reach out! i love you, enjoy!

-—————————⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆—————————-

my friend sarah begged me all week long to come to this kegger with her today. so i finally caved and decided to go. i’m not much of a party person, but what harm would one kegger do?

i was currently waiting on my porch. sarah, topper (her boyfriend), and rafe (her brother) were coming by to pick me up.

i grew up with sarah so i know rafe. it’s safe to say he’s not my favorite person in the world. he always picked on sarah and i when i would come over. normal asshole older brother things. ever since i’ve gotten older he’s taken a liking in me. flirting with me every chance he gets. i turn him down, obviously. he’s my best friends brother. i couldn’t do that to her. but god is he hot. but i know that’s just something i can’t do, so i ignore his advances.

after about 5 minutes of waiting on the porch topper’s truck pulls up. i step back and crack my front door open and let my parents know i’m leaving.

i walked up to the truck and saw through the windows that topper was driving, obviously. so naturally sarah was in the passenger seat, topper’s hand resting comfortably on her thigh. i opened the back door and there in all his glory sat rafe. i sat down and buckled in. we were off to the boneyard for a fun night.

the ride there wasn’t out of the ordinary, mostly just me and sarah talking out of our asses about whatever we thought of. the boys had their own conversation about how many birdies they’d had at their last golf match.

we finally arrived and the party was already in full swing. pogues, kooks, and tourons alike were all drinking out of red solo cups and dancing to music being blasted out of a single bluetooth speaker. we hopped out of the truck. all four of us standing at the edge of the fun.

“uh, so, what first?” topper asked.

“drinks, duh?” i said in an obvious tone. i made my way to the keg, topper, sarah, and rafe following behind me.

i reached the keg and generously filled my cup with the cheap beer. i downed half my cup before filling it back up. i made my way over to a clear spot where i unrolled a blanket i had packed. i sat down taking off my shoes and digging my feet in the soft sand. sarah, topper, and rafe came and sat down on the blanket as well.

“guys, let’s go dance.” sarah suggested, scrambling to her feet, her cup of beer still in hand.

i jumped to my feet “i’m in.”

sarah looked to topper and held her hand out. he gave her a look. “do i have to?”

she gave him her signature puppy dog eyes and within a second he was on his feet.

we all started heading closer to the group of dancing people when topper suddenly turned around.

“rafe, you coming bro?” he asked.

rafe waved his hand dismissively. “i’m going to get more beer man.”

with that we all continued to the “dance floor.” as soon as i got in the group, i felt all of their energy. i started dancing, downing my beer. grinding on guys i’d never talked to and probably never will. it was so electrifying.

after a few songs, i stepped out of the group to refill my cup when i saw someone staring at me.

rafe.

his eyes were following me as i went to the keg, as i refilled my drink, as i continued dancing. it’s like i could feel his eyes tracing down every curve of my body. he studied the way i moved it to the beat of the music. he watched every hand that accidently grazed me. his eyes bore into any and every guy that grabbed my waist and danced on me.

i watched as he walked back over to the blanket i had laid down earlier. i decided i was gonna say something to him.

i walked up to him, towering over him as he sat on the blanket. “are you done eye-fucking me yet?” i snapped.

“well, not really, i was kinda enjoying myself.” he replied with a smirk.

i plopped down beside him, the alcohol i had consumed catching up to me. “you’re disgusting.”

“i know you like when i say things like that to you.” he remarked.

i rolled my eyes and shivered as a gust of chilly wind blew by. my crop top and shorts weren’t doing me much good.

“are you shivering because you’re nervous from being around me, or are you cold?” rafe asked.

“i’m cold you dipshit.” i sneered.

i felt warm, fuzzy fabric drape over my shoulders. i glared over my shoulder to see rafe holding his north face jacket onto my body.

“what’s with the face, i’m just trying to keep you warm.” he argued.

“stop hitting on me.” i snapped.

“why?” he questioned.

“you know why. i’m your sisters best friend. i’m off limits. plus i don’t like you anyways.”

“whatever, just take the goddamn jacket before you get a cold or some shit.” he ordered.

i slipped my arms through the jacket, taking in the scent of expensive cologne, savoring the warmth “thanks.” i mumbled.

“you look hot in my clothes.” he smirked.

i reached over and smacked him on the arm. “i hate you.”

i know he’s off limits. i know i’m supposed to hate him. but no matter how hard i try, i just can’t. it was probably the alcohol, but before i even know what i’m doing i reach out and i grab his face. i crash his lips on to my own.

the kiss is sweet and passionate. like we’ve both been waiting for this for a long time. i feel his hands drop to my waist. i move mine to wrap behind his neck. i swing my leg over, straddling his legs, sitting in his lap. he finally breaks the kiss for air.

he presses our forheads together. both of us out of breath.

“i knew you liked me.” he teased.

i giggled letting my head drop to his shoulder.

“sarah, come on!” i heard topper yell.

“shit.” i quickly jumped off of rafe and casually sat off to the side of him. sarah and topper were walking up to us.

“guys, we are ready to go.” sarah groaned.

“yeah, okay.” i stumbled over my words, still shaken up about earlier.

rafe and i both got up and i shook out my blanket and folded it up. we all made our way back to topper’s truck. i grabbed rafe’s arm letting sarah and topper get ahead of us. i start taking off his jacket when he stopped me.

“keep it. it looks better on you.” he whispered.

i smiled. “you’re such a dork.”

“meet me in my room tonight” rafe knew i was staying the night with sarah, and i had some ideas of why he wanted me in his room.

“okay.” i replied. i pecked his lips and ran forward to catch up with topper and sarah.

what am i getting myself into?

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagines #rafe obx #rafe imagine #rafe x you #rafe smut #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron smut #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe angst #rafe fic #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x oc #outer banks fluff #outer banks #obx #obx3 #drew starkey #drew starkey imagines #drew starkey smut #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey one shot #rafe cameron one shot

[fillinforlater]

Eleven to One: Pet Play

Male Reader x Choi Yena

Length: 3966 words

Tags: pet play, you knew that, pet/master dynamic, blowjob, bad table manners, indulging in the pet kink, collar and leash, spankingas punishment, undressing, doggy, creampie, sex toys, overstimulation, kitten!Yena

TW: I guess if you don't like kitten Yena...

Inspiration: The great works of @writerpeach and @worldsover. Go check out their work on this specific... let's call it topic.

Credit: @sooyadelicacies for being my awesome co-writer and instigator of many BFH-sessions

(A/N: Looks like someone else is added to the family-harem, this time with a bit of an set up. Check out the previous story with the teaser for this one! Oh, and here are all the other chapters. Enjoy!)

"Sho tashty~"

Minju has no table manners, talking with food in her mouth. Well, the 'food' in question is your cock she is feverishly sucking from underneath the table while you and Yujin enjoy a nice, quick breakfast before Yujin has to leave for a group schedule. That's also why Minju is the only one naked, something she is perfectly accustomed to ever since you found the right room temperature for her.

"Before you go, I'll let you know that we have to move into a hotel for a week," you say as Yujin takes her final sip of coffee. 

"Why is that?"

"I bought the penthouse below and above us and want to connect them via some automated staircase. I promised the construction company a huge bonus if they finish in a week, so it shouldn't be longer than this. Damn Mr. Kim, I’d love to buy the entire building, but he is too greedy."

"Daddy," Minju asks from below, her soft fingers massaging your balls while she twirls your cockhead. "Why do we need so much space, so many rooms? Isn't this big enough?"

You take a quick glance at Yujin who shakes her head. This is not the right time, don't introduce Minju to the full family plan yet. Especially not when she is busy playing with cock, the only thing on her mind, on her tongue.

"I'll tell you later, Minmin."

"And I'll see you two later," Yujin says and gives you a quick tongue kiss while cupping your cheek. Too bad you can't cup hers because you are busy playing with Minju's hair. That’s not even a first world problem, so you’ll live with it. "Love you, Daddy."

"Love you too.

"Hey, Minmin, did you drop the bowl on purpose earlier?" you ask with Yujin out the door. Minju looks utterly confused, which is heart-meltingly cute.

"Why would Minmin do that, Daddy?"

"So I'd punish you and make you suck my dick?"

"B-but Minmin can suck your dick just by crawling in your office and opening my mouth. Why would she break Daddy's bowl?"

You laugh a little. This girl is too pure and impure at the same time.

#

Going on a date without Yujin feels quite odd, you must admit. What's even weirder is that you won't need to do it in secrecy, hidden from literally everyone. Today you just walk into the cafe, a gift underneath your arm and look for your date, a girl with colorful hair. At least she was last seen with light pink strands during a meet and greet. 

In the corner of the cafe is a table, in full light of the sunshine, falling in through crystal windows, and at said table is a small person, covered in a bucket hat, sunglasses and a large, black overcoat. Someone who likes to hide their identity to the world, but not you, because a flock of pink hair she flaunts from underneath the hat confirms your suspicion. It is your date.

"Do you mind if I just—"

"Oh, no, please, sit down~"

As you pull back the chair to have a seat, you intently watch the young woman remove her glasses and reveal her face to you. This is your first time seeing the Choi Yena up close in person, and with her gleeful smile, she really looks like a duck or cat or something adorable that you want to cuddle.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," you tell her and raise your hand to get the waitress's attention. "Can I invite you for a treat or a beverage?"

"Oh, I'd love to," Yena says, mocking your formal, almost posh way of speaking, before she has a light bulb moment. "Wait, you're very—let’s say well off, right? Can I order whatever I want?"

Now the ducky cat has puppy eyes, for no reason, really. You're here on this friendly date and she seems to have some sort of issue that only a wise person can resolve—of course you'll treat her.

"Get yourself whatever you want, but please." You lean forward and whisper. "Don't order too much. I find it embarrassing if they have to throw good food away."

Yena grins widely and nods, before going on a spree to order all kinds of cupcakes, pastries and milkshakes. You raise an eyebrow and calmly sip your coffee as she digs down sweet treat after sweet treat after sweet treat. To your surprise, she is not only fully capable of eating all of it, but also willing to talk about the most random shit while stuffing her face with sugary goods. 

Yena lacks table manners, just like Minju did this morning.

You sit there and listen. Yena mostly talks about her daily life, mixed in with complaints about her company and sudden outbursts of adoration for IVE and their super star Yujin and how happy she is for you two. 

Then she goes on tangents about IZ*ONE and what the girls have been up to. She is sad about Wonyoung, who apparently decided to pursue some rich people stuff, just like Hyewon, but when you tell her that you and Hyewon are rather close (yeah, that's all you will tell her for now), she lights up once more.

"Really? I only heard rumors about her new, joined company buying huge shares in Starship. Do you like working for Hyewon-unnie?"

You put your cup of tea down and smile. "Something like that, yeah. But now, Yena, I'm pretty sure you're avoiding something."

"Wha-what do you mean?" Yena sweats profusely, not because the overcoat is too thick, though it is, but because you finally want to get to the point. Why were you here again?

"You know what I mean. The reason you wrote the letter, Yena. You have to tell me why, all I can do is make assumptions."

Yena wraps her lips around the straw of her milkshake and quickly drinks the remaining droplets until she makes this annoying slurping sound that has your temple in scrunches. Before you can complain however, Yena finally speaks up.

"I'll tell you, bu-but can you at least guess what it's about first."

"I can, but I have to warn you, I'm very honest and upfront, no nonsense, I might trample over your feelings or say something absurd, rude even."

Yena blushes and gulps. She is all ears to what you're about to say, which has you confident that your guess is spot on.

"I believe that you are very unsatisfied with your sex life and unsure how to act out the stuff you like, so you try to look for someone with experience who you can trust but is also not in your closessed circle."

"Is it that obvious!?” Yena quickly responds as not to let awkward silence fill a possible void in this conversation.

You nod and Yena throws her hands dramatically into the air. She looks embarrassed and a bit distraught that you were able to look right through her, without shame or hesitation. 

However, to your pleasant surprise, she is able to gather herself and speak like a proper grown up about her sexual frustration:

"Yeah, you were spot on. I have a lot of free time in between comebacks and schedules, which is nice and all, but I-I'm unsure about hook ups and scared that someone will... leak stuff. So I wanted to try normal dating, but even among other stars that is so ha-ard. I just want to fu-uck."

"That is very understandable," you say and lean back into the chair, feeling a bit like a therapist with an immorally large bulge in your pants. "But don't you think you could find a very loyal fan, who'd do anything for you, have an NDA ready and go for it? Or maybe you could go out of country, where they don't know you? I bet you still have a lot of options, and with a pretty face like yours, you're bound to find more than enough people to fu-uck."

Yena pouts at you mocking her pronunciation.

"But that's a lot of effort and little guarantee. I want something reliable, in this country and I can’t wait any longer.”

"You want a relationship where you can trust the other person," you summarize. "So... what was your goal with all this? We don't know each other and I'm in a relationship with Yujin. I don't get this from you point of view."

"I-I, it's just that I—I need someone with experience to guide me through this. And I have seen Yujin, her happiness, her smile, the glow around her. That's a woman that has good sex all the time, so please, tell me your secret." 

"I'm the secret, Yena. Do you want to take me from Yujin?" You stand up straight, face stern as Yena looks up at you, helpless and needy. "Finish up your milkshake, we'll take this somewhere else. Don't forget your present."

#

You picked out a nearby hotel, actually the first one that crossed your eyesight. As is often the case, you underestimated how high end these places can actually be. You already consider making this your home for the week your flat becomes unlivable. Minju won’t say anything against it, Yujin though might want something even more posh and polished. 

Good thing that you decided to wear that brown thousand dollar suit that makes you look like a mixture between gangster and manager, otherwise bringing a fully costumed stranger with you would have been an eye raiser. Now you're just some less important person bringing a celebrity to their room.

But it's your room, your money, your decision what’s about to happen. Yena walks in after you and stands in the middle of the vast, cozy room, adorned with all kinds of paintings, a carpet on a wooden floor, an impeccable color scheme from the darkest of brown to a soft beige. You sit down on the bed and look at the still dressed idol expectantly.

"Hm, which present do you want to open first: mine or yours?" you ask her, voice in deep thought as Yena removes her glasses once more.

"I-I don't know what you mean by your present but I think I'll open this."

Yena taps the wrapped box nervously, hoping for some kind of reaction from your part, but you leave her hanging and after agonizing seconds she begins to rip into the colorful wrapping paper. Yena opens the lid beneath and her eyes open wide.

"I know what you want, Yena. Don't underestimate me. Be blunt, be honest, most importantly,

"Be my good little pet, hm?"

Yena takes deep breaths when she pulls out a long, silver chain with a leather handle on one end and her favorite collar on the other. There is more inside it though: a pink feeding bowl with a cute kitten on it as well as a bullet vibrator, its cord and remote and a thigh strap. 

Yena drops the box and most items on the creme carpet when you put her chin between two of your fingers and tilt it up. She looks dreamy, you must have hit the spot to activate endless sexual possibilities and the urge to succumb to them right now. Honestly, you too have always wondered what it would be like to have a pet cat and now she is right here, ready to purr for you.

"What are you?" you ask, quietly, firmly, unmistakable power in your eyes. Yena melts in your fingers.

"Masters... good pet."

"Very good. After I have opened up my present, I expect my kitten to get into character. Because that is what good kittens do."

Without ever breaking eye contact, you begin to pop open the buttons of Yena's overcoat until it's time for the zipper to open up the curtains. In the meantime Yena loses her hat—maybe her mind along with it. You are in no rush to have her bare before you, after all, you left the world of haste and constant work behind. It's time to indulge in this thrilling moment, feel every second of this new life.

"Wow, what a beautiful kitten I have," you coo when you look at the skimpy stage outfit on Yena's body, a radical contrast to the all covering black of her overcoat which is thrown behind the bed.  The shortest of white shorts and a crop top that barely fits her are all that's left to hide Yena's private parts. 

"Now, how about I give my kitten the proper accessories, hm? C'mon, get the collar."

She is in a bit of a daze, your kitten, clumsily bowing down and reaching for the chain. Before she can straighten her back, you kick it out of her hand, and sigh deeply in disappointment.

"No, no, no, not like that. Get it like the little kitten you are."

The kick had her stunned, hurt a bit even, but now she knows what to do. Teaching your pet how to behave properly comes first, before any fun tricks can be trained. Yena begins to kneel and crawls to the collar. She picks the leather handle up with her teeth and carries it to you. 

"Good girl, you've done very well." Your praise comes with another reward. The tips of your fingers begin to scratch and tickle Yena's chin and she calmly purrs, lays her cheek into your hand, fuck, she isn't even cat coded anymore—

—she is living this.

"Kitten, I have many obligations, you know? Caring for Yujin is a handful too. But you, you'll be a good kitten for your Master, won't you? You'll never cause me any trouble, right?”

Yena responds with rapid nods. From her point of view, you are doing her a huge favor, with or without the approval of Yujin. She thinks you are taking risks and loves you for it. Her devotion is only natural, so you happily offer her a couple of fingers to suck on. 

While Yena indulges in getting her drool all over your fingers, you get the tight collar around her throat. It's a good thing that she already sent you this one, a different kind might not have been such a perfect fit. This one looks so natural on her and the thin chain is a great addition. 

"My kitten has fine taste. I think she deserves some belly rubs."

If she had a tail, Yena would probably swing it around in excitement. She won't go long without one, you already have plans of buying hundreds of toys for her—well, okay, these "plans" are just now forming, you’ll have to adjust the shopping list later—and a tail is at the top of that list. 

Purrs when Yena rolls over playfully, her arms and feet stretched away from her like paws and thanks to that crop top, you have perfect access to her midriff. The moment you touch her navel, she unexpectedly kicks upwards, right into your chest. A stinging pain, one you have to swallow down with a heavy gulp. That's how they are, wild, young, untrained pets. 

Nevertheless, they have to be taught properly. A good punishment is an essential part of their training.

"Some lying pet you are!” you snap at her. “How fucking dare you kick your Master!" 

Yena wanted to make a deal with the devil, a deal to be your pet. Unlike Minju or even Hyewon, she wants to be your literal property, not your girl, property and not a human. The treatment has to match the deal.

You easily lift the petrified idol-turned-kitten off the ground and place her bend over on your lap. Yena's cute, firm little butt is in your striking zone, while she desperately turns to face you. You hook a finger into her waistband and pull her shorts down to the folds of her asscheeks.

"Are you sorry, Kitten, for kicking your Master?" you ask Yena with a deeply judging tone. She nods with a deeply sorry expression. "Say that you're sorry!"

"I-I'm sorry, Master. I was a dumb kitten." Not enough meows in that sentence, but you will work on that later.

"What do you think you deserve now, kitten?"

"I de-deserve to be punished by Master.”

"That is right, kitten." You barely touch Yena's butt with the tips of your fingers, and she is already stiffening, readying for impact. To her surprise, your digits rather gently dig into her small cheeks and massage them in preparation. "But are you really sorry?"

"Yes, Master, yes I am—ah!"

The first hit always stings the most, to the point where involuntary tears stream down one's face and lips quiver uncontrollably. You don't let your hand rest on the red spot, instead lifting it up and striking again to make Yena's butt sore all over.

"You don't mean these words. I will have to hit you more."

"N-no, please!" Yena tries to push her upper body up but you make sure to keep her down, pinned to your thighs. "Master, I really, really am sorry!"

Another slap, straight on the same spot, enough to make Yena squirm out a pained meow. In the ensuing set of a dozen hits, six on each beautiful ass cheek, your kitten winces more and more, like a cat hurt in the wild. It tugs at your heart strings, surprisingly, but you continue regardless. When the set is finished, your fingers travel down Yena’s creek to her pussy.

"Do you like to be hit, kitten?" you ask calmly, two fingers gliding across Yena's labia, finding her clit. Yena purrs and shakes her head. "Do you think you need more punishment?"

"No, Master. Please, stop. I'll be a good kitten for you. I’m sorry."

Those dreamy, teary, glassy eyes—could they ever lie?

"I believe you.” A small pat on her head. “God, you are very cute, your hair is so silky and your little entrance is already getting wet." You remove your digits and show the tiny strings of arousal that remain in between when you spread them before her eyes. 

You take your time, again, no reason to rush. Climb on the bed, watch Yena rest on her knees before it. A light tug at the chain and Yena gets it. Today, she'll be allowed on the bed, just for this special occasion.

"Thank you, Master," she purrs and you comb through the pink, smooth hair. You give her a final smile before getting behind her. Belts and pants have never stopped you from getting what you need, to the point you'll probably disregard them entirely in the future.

This future in your home, with all these girls; Yujin and Minju already live there, Eunbi and Hyewon will surely follow. Chaewon is a wild card, probably a couple of sessions away from any commitment. And then there is Yena. 

Will she commit to being your pet full time? Or is this a one off thing for her, to get rid of all the sexual tension you feel on her soaked and hot pussy lips that graze your tip? The extent of her kink is still a mystery to you.

"Relax, my little kitten, here comes your favorite cock.”

How can she know if this is her favorite? It's been ages since something this big and girthy has spread her open, pushed past any tension and made her feel full. Comparing this to those she had in the past is impossible—but not because of the difference in time or position or foreplay. 

The comparison fails because your massiveness makes Yena's brain short circuit. All stages of humanity and human behavior are shut off; when your tip presses against her cervix, she goes straight to purring, meowing more than moaning.

Yena is incredibly tight, mostly because this is the first time she has something so big inside her, you assume, so you give her time for adjustments, slow movements, even slower rubs on her back, then her belly. 

"Let's get rid of this." And you do get rid of her top, see her small breasts jiggle, the tiny, hard nipples too, when Yena is ready to move on her own.

Her kitten butt moves in a mesmerizing dance, not only a linear back and forth, but a subtle shimmy from side to side. You get to see your cock glazed in her sweet juice, then it disappears in that cavern again. Up to this point, you're just kneeling behind your kitten, undressing further and further, sometime pulling the chain to get her back into that doggy position—it seems that she likes the slow fuck.

"You are such a good kitten," you groan and lean towards Yena's ear until she can't push backwards anymore. "What do you say, next time we're alone, you get some ears and a tail?"

"Bu-but Master," Yena murmurs, face now in the mattress because you start pushing yourself into her. "What about Yujinnie, your girlfriend?"

"Don't you want to stay with us? Get head pats from my good baby girl too?" 

Don't give her time to think about it. This revelation of your open and rather complex relationship might have been too early. So thrust harder into her and make the entire bed shake, her brain a useless mush. Yena's toes curl as she bites the sheets below her and lifts her ass a bit higher for easier access. She gets wetter and tighter, a clear sign of enjoyment, of thrill that is soon to be bliss.

Without warning you yank at the chain. Yena chokes hard, quickly getting back into the doggy position which you immediately use to fuck her roughly against the backboard of the bed. 

The chain in your hand, the thought of a personal pet and its snug cunt make you greedy for your own orgasm which always comes before hers, however only in terms of relevance. Yena has finally adjusted to your width, length and the harsh grip you exert on her collar. She drools and purrs, until an ultimate, mindless scream leaves her mouth. Her knees begin to buckle as she cums on your length, that pistoning length, in and out of her cunt, completely disregarding her sensitivity.

"Oh, looks like my kitten is wetting herself. Look, you're ruining the sheets! Such a dumb little pet."

Yena doesn't even hear the taunting. She holds onto some pillows, then the backboards, as you applaude her for the resilience by fucking faster and making the pelvis on ass sounds louder and louder.

"Me-me-meow~" Yena's irises disappear in her head. The idol has fully become your kitten; in due time to you surrendering to the tight grip of her cunt by cumming. A day's worth of semen, directly into her womb, and you tell yourself that she is safe today. She has to be, otherwise she wouldn't have agreed to your dick inside her.

"Ma-Master, so much," Yena breathes and her paws try to remove all the sticky hair from her sweaty face.

"You better not spill it on the sheets, kitty. Keep it inside your pussy, all of it." You pull out and immediately get up close with the pink snatch. Yena clenches her muscle, trying to force her pussy to stay shut.

"So, so much—I can't ho-old it!"

With that said, Yena loses some of your precious cream. She just lets it fall out of her in an incredibly lewd display that has you smiling at her embarrassed expression. In a scramble of genius and horniness, you find the bullet vibrator and shove it inside Yena’s cunt before she can ruin more of the bed. Her ensuing moan is music to your ears.

"I guess my kitten is not yet potty trained. We need to change that as soon as we can.

"Wouldn’t you agree?"

#kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #male reader insert #izone smut #male reader smut #choi yena smut #yena smut

[shockercoco]

Just One More

Farleigh Start x reader

Warnings - 18+, smut, overstimulation, edging, sub!farleigh, whiny farleigh

Word count - 979

a/n - i watched midsommar for the first time after putting it off, and I sat in silence for like 3 minutes afterwards. also i've had this idea for a couple weeks and it's inspired by this video if you're curious (18+). anyways i hope you enjoy :)

Farleigh liked to be dominant, but he also enjoyed the times when you took control. Those were mainly the times when you wanted to get back at him for something he had done earlier in the day or for whatever happened during your guys’ previous pleasure session.

Today, he had been teasing you in the presence of other people. During lunch with the rest of the Catton family, Farleigh had put his hand on your thigh and continued to move it up until it went under your skirt and touched your underwear. He would brush his fingers against you every once and a while over your panties before pulling away; the first time it made you jerk and choke on your drink mid swallow. That grabbed the attention of everyone at the table, including Farleigh who pretended to act innocent.

While the two of you laid naked in the middle of the field with Felix, Venetia, and Oliver, he had decided he needed a break from reading and lit a cigarette. He had also decided to start gently rubbing your hip, and then moved to the skin between your hips making sure not to move too far down before lifting his hand away. Thankfully the blades of grass in the field are so tall because to everyone else it probably seemed like normal pda.

Now the two of you are undressed once again, but this time in the comfort of your bedroom. In Farleigh’s mind, he thinks you guys are going to do your regular foreplay before continuing on with the night, but you have other plans that include getting back at him.

“Go ahead and get comfortable,” you tell him as you motion for him to lay back on the bed.

He seems to get the message because he gives you a smirk as he gets himself a little too comfortable on the bed. He lays back on the pillows and puts his hands behind his head as he looks down at you. “Well, don’t mind if I do.”

You throw him a fake grin before taking him into your mouth. You begin to massage his balls while your mouth makes its way slowly up and down his shaft, still looking up at him. You put your other hand on his thigh to stabilize yourself, but decide on moving it up towards his lower stomach. A sigh falls out of Farleigh’s mouth as he closes his eyes to enjoy the moment. As much as you love him and how much doing this turns you on, you can’t help but want to roll your eyes. 

As his orgasm approaches, his muscles get more tense and his whines become more frequent.

He had removed his hands from behind his head long ago, but the hand on the back of your head begins applying more and more pressure. You make sure to do everything he loves to bring him closer and closer to tumbling over the edge, but right as you notice him getting ready to release, you pull your head off of him.

“No, no, no, what are you doing?” Farleigh sits up against the headboard and frowns, his chest still heaving. He’s still incredibly hard and now covered with a mixture of your saliva and his precum trickling down him.

“Oh, nothing. I just thought I’d have a little fun, you know just like how you had your fun earlier today at lunch and in the field,” you tell him.

“Oh, come on. You’re not really upset about that are you?” he asks, but it comes out as more of a whine, desperate for you to touch him again.

“Of course not, but like I just said, I want to have some fun too,” you give him your best innocent smile as you wrap your hand around him once again to tease his tip. A small groan comes out of his mouth as a result. You let out a small laugh before continuing, “Lighten up.”

You start off slow, but quickly pick up speed causing Farleigh to throw his head back against the headboard. His orgasm approaches once again, and this time you let it come, not letting up on the speed. His moans are constant as long ropes shoot out onto his stomach and your hand. The flow feels like it’s never going to end, and you use the cum as a lube to keep going. Farleigh squeezes his eyes shut as he grabs on to the blanket beneath him. When it becomes too much for him, he reaches for your hand to pull it away, but you just flick it away.

“Baby…,” he starts, but doesn’t finish as he cuts himself off with a whimper.

“Just one more,” you sweetly tell him as your hand continues.

He squirms from the overstimulation, and you sit on his legs to try to keep him still. His second orgasm comes out as semi transparent ropes onto his tense abdomen. He looks up at you as a silent question, and you shake your head in response. You continue your movements up and down his shaft alternating between hands, and the squelching sound the cum beneath your hand makes just eggs you on. You both enjoyed it when it became messy.

Orgasm number three is mostly a liquid as it squirts out. Farleigh has fallen back onto the bed and is a whining and twitching mess beneath you. You decide that you’ve tortured him enough and release your grip on him. He lets out a deep breath as his chest heaves up and down. You crawl up closer to his face to get a better look at him and give him a gentle smile. He looks up at you and playfully rolls his eyes at you before letting out an exhausted laugh. 

After all, he does this to you all the time.

#farleigh start x reader #farleigh start #farleigh x reader #farleigh catton #farleigh smut #saltburn imagine #saltburn

[katsu28]

to be alone together

pairing: Steve Harrington x reader

summary: steve has to work on valentine’s day, but maybe it’s not as bad as he thought it would be

warnings: none, 1.8k

a/n: u know i had to do a lil something for my steve girlies too <3 went for a more steve centric pov bc he is the definition of pining simp 

navigation

(gif credits to @harringtondaily)

“Kinda sucks that you gotta work tonight.” Robin’s voice through the phone pressed to Steve’s ear was staticky, but still provided a good distraction from the empty video store around him.

It was Valentine’s Day and Steve had been at Family Video since opening, watching couple after couple come in to pretty much clear the romcom shelves, and yeah, he was a little bummed about it, but there was no point moping around about it any longer than he already had been. 

“It’s whatever, honestly. Not like I had any plans to begin with.” He sighed, shifting the receiver so it was wedged between his cheek and shoulder as his fingers drifted down to fiddle with the pen on the counter absentmindedly. 

“Steve, that’s sad.” Robin replied. Steve wrinkled his nose, a slightly offended noise escaping the back of his throat. “No! I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant that you should be out and about, having a good time.” 

“You know what’s actually sad? You talking to me instead of paying attention to your date.” He shot back, only half serious. “Where’s Nance?” 

“Oh she’s right here. Say hi, Nance.” 

Steve heard a faint ‘hi Steve’ in the background and he returned the greeting. “What are you guys doing tonight?” 

“She made this really fancy pasta thing for dinner, we’re just waiting on the chicken to finish in the oven and I thought I’d see what was going on with you.” Robin sounded casual, but he knew this was her way of checking up on him since he was the only one on shift all day and she knew how he felt about today. 

“Rob, I don’t know how many times I gotta tell you, but I’m fine. It’s really not a big deal.” 

“Why don’t you just close up early, come join us for dinner? We have more than enough food.” 

“You’re seriously inviting me to crash your romantic dinner date with your girlfriend?” He snorted, rolling his eyes playfully. “What does Nancy think of that?” 

There was some shuffling on the other end, a bout of silence, then Robin was back on the line. “She’s giving me a weird look, nevermind. Now that I think about it, it wasn’t my best idea.” 

“I love you both, but you know I can’t.” 

The bell above the door jingled softly, drawing Steve’s attention away from his phone call and to whoever just walked in. 

Shit. It was you. 

You were dressed like you were supposed to be on your date, not here, hair and makeup done up all pretty, floaty dress in his favorite color swishing around your knees as you made your way into the store. It made him wonder if you chose that color on purpose, but he knew that you didn’t. You couldn’t have known you’d be seeing him tonight. Wishful thinking on his end though. 

“Rob, I gotta go,” He blurted, straightening up behind the counter. 

“Wait, what—” 

“I gotta go, she’s—someone’s here, I gotta help her.” 

“She? Oh my god, wait! Is it—” 

“Have a nice date, tell Nance I said bye!” With that, Steve hung up, slamming the receiver onto the base with enough force to send it skittering a few inches. “Hey, Y/N.” 

“Steve!” Your previously downturned lips lifted into a smile, one that had Steve’s heart thudding a little faster in his chest. It always did. “I didn’t know you were working tonight.” 

See, you were also part of the reason he decided to take the extra shift today, but through no fault of your own. You’d mentioned earlier in the week while you were hanging out with him and Robin that someone had asked you out for tonight, and Steve didn’t really know how to feel about it. 

You were friends, but had Steve been harboring a crush on you since pretty much the first day you met? Yes. 

Did he feel an itching sense of jealousy that you were going on a date with someone that wasn’t him? Also yes. 

Would he do anything about it? Probably not. 

Okay, so maybe he knew exactly how he felt about it. Hell, he’d picked up an extra shift to distract himself from it. 

“Yeah, I got called in last minute." A lie. "Aren’t you supposed to be on a date right now?” A casual, not at all hoping that it crashed and burned question. That would be mean. (But also a little gratifying for him.)

You chuckled, a tad bitter as you leaned forward, propping your elbows on the counter, the action sending a whiff of your perfume his way. Steve’s knees almost gave out. “Supposed to, yeah. But the guy never showed up.” 

Steve had to fight a noise of surprise. What kind of dumbass would skip out on a date with you? “Really? That’s—that sucks, I’m sorry.” 

“S’okay. Wasn’t really looking forward to it anyways.” 

“Oh?” 

“I didn’t really know him that well, honestly. He was a friend of a friend, asked me out in front of a bunch of people, and I didn’t really wanna turn him down and make it awkward.” 

“You’re way too nice, Y/N. And he’s an idiot for standing you up.” 

“Thanks, Steve.” You smiled warmly at him, patting his hand. Steve had to pretend his pulse wasn’t racing right now. “What about you? Why’re you here and not out with anyone?” 

“I, uh—I didn’t really feel like going out tonight. Don’t think I’d be a very good date anyways.”

“Oh, you’re just being modest. What girl wouldn’t wanna spend Valentine’s Day with Steve Harrington?” 

The one girl he wanted to spend this day with, he thought. You. 

“You’d be surprised.” He muttered. 

“Well then they’re idiots too.” 

A small smile quirked his lips. “Thanks.” 

“Hey, I just came to pick up some movies and spend the rest of my night shoveling down ice cream, but since we’re both here now and alone, d’you wanna…be alone together? Grab a bite to eat or do something?” 

Steve’s shoulders slumped defeatedly. “I’d love to, but I—I can’t. I gotta stay here til the end of my shift, Keith’s been on my ass about taking off early and as much as I hate the guy, I don’t wanna get fired.” 

“Oh, okay. Don’t worry about it, I’m, uh—it’s cool.” Was he hallucinating, or did you look disappointed? 

“Would you maybe wanna, I dunno, stay here? We can watch whatever you want and I know where Robin keeps her work snack stash. That way we can be alone together and I don’t get chewed out again?” Steve blurted hopefully. He was honestly expecting you to say no. Why would you wanna spend the rest of your already shitty night with him in a dingy video store? But then your face split into the biggest smile and you nodded, rocking forward on the balls of your feet earnestly. “Go pick something out, I’ll grab the snacks.” 

You scurried off to browse the near bare shelves, leaving Steve shaking his head amusedly in your wake as he watched you skim the tapes with a look of utmost concentration. He slipped into the back room to grab Robin’s last unopened bag of chips, making a mental note to buy more before tomorrow’s shift before returning to the video area.

He skimmed the store, spotting you in the romcom section, and when he made his way over, you were contemplating the last two tapes on the shelf. 

You beamed at him upon spotting him. “Pretty in Pink or Sixteen Candles?” 

“Am I allowed to say neither?” 

“You said whatever I want, Steve.” You said pointedly, propping your hands on your hips. 

“I did, didn’t I?” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. You let out a hum of pleasure, sliding your chosen movie off the shelf and wandering towards the TV in the corner. Steve hurried after you quickly, plucking the tape from between your fingertips and running away, not unlike a child would. 

“Steve!” You huffed, whirling on your heel. He grinned mischievously at you, waving it in the air like a taunt. You caught up with him within seconds, lunging for the tape that he held up above his head and away from your outstretched hand. Your body was pressed against his as you reached for it, as you leaned against him in a fruitless attempt to overpower him. “Steve, gimme the tape!” 

“No!” He laughed, but that laughter very soon trickled off as soon as he realized your proximity. You were so close, he could see the color of your eyes clear as day, looking right back at him. You’d fallen quiet too, as if you’d come to the same realization. 

You were nose to nose, faces a hair’s breadth away from each other, the stolen tape in Steve’s hands long forgotten. Every fiber in his body was telling him to pull away, because the longer he stayed here the weirder it would be when he finally did manage to retreat, but no matter how hard he willed himself to move, he couldn’t. Instead, his eyes flicked down to your lips. Your breath hitched almost imperceptibly. 

“Steve?” You whispered, gaze darting around his own face. 

“Yeah?” 

“Kiss me.” 

You didn’t have to tell him twice.

Steve dropped the tape immediately, closing the gap between you and pressing his lips against yours. His hands came up to cup your face, holding you firm but kissing you soft, like he was preparing himself to pull away if you did. But from the way you were returning his kiss, how your hands clutched at the front of his vest to keep him this close, it didn’t feel like you’d be pulling away anytime soon, and that spurred him on even more. 

One hand slid down to settle at your waist, the other curling around the back of your neck as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss just a little bit. 

Steve’s lips felt tingly when he pulled away, tasted of your cherry lip gloss when his tongue darted out to lick them. He was sure to have a little bit on his mouth now, but it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Not by a long shot. Cherry might’ve just become his new favorite flavor. 

“I really like you.” He breathed, chest heaving against yours. Your lips curved into a soft smile—the same smile that nearly sent Steve’s brain short circuiting every time it was aimed his way. 

“After that kiss, I’d sure hope so,” You replied, smoothing out his wrinkled shirt as best you could. “I like you too, just so you know. Part of the reason I was so okay with my date ditching me. He wasn’t you.” 

Steve could only beam at you, going in for another kiss. In his excitement, he missed his mark, hitting the corner of your mouth instead, but he didn’t care. The girl he wanted all along actually liked him back, and it only took one failed date and an extra shift to find out. 

Maybe working on Valentine’s Day wasn’t so bad after all. 

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fic #stranger things #joe keery #if u saw me say goodnight earlier don't look at me #what is it with me and posting when i should be sleeping #is anyone awake #does anyone even read tags anymore tho #anyways if you've gotten this far hi thank u for reading i love u #MWAH #ok im actually going to bed now #goodnight <3 #happy valentine's day besties

[eilidh-eternal]

Dancing in the deep end

Part of the Martyr in the Making series | Part 1 | Masterlist |

| 18 + MDNI | TattooArtist!Ghost x f!reader | CW dub con/non con themes, Simon being a possessive menace in general |

It takes a tremendous amount of effort to sit still today, fighting to keep a grip on the tense coil of compressed nerves within you. One wrong move—one wrong thought—and the tenuous bubble of calm that you and Kyle sit inside of is liable to burst.

It’s not the needles. Not the delicious pain of each pin prick that has you all keyed up.

It’s him.

And you’re doing your best not to think about it, focusing your attention instead on the collection of studs adorning Kyle’s ears and the glittering rhinestones that catch in the light each time his lips part to ask you another question. Inconsequential things about your work, plans with friends, or references you have saved on your pinterest board. 

“Who are you gonna book with for that?” He studies the picture on your phone while he changes tips, handing it back when finished and returning his attention to the detail work on your right forearm.

“I’m not sure. I thought about Johnny. He’s good with realism, but this is more… macabre. Not really his style. And I don’t think I want any color, not for this. If I did I’d already be on your book.” You’d book with Kyle every time if you could. Prefer his affable countenance and comfortable conversation over the others. But they all have their specialties, and one size certainly doesn't fit all when it comes to artists.

He hums thoughtfully and the corner of his mouth twists up into a wry grin. “Sounds like something Ghost would take on. Definitely up his alley; all that spooky shit.”

So much for not thinking of him…

“Stop that.” 

“Stop what?” he quips, breaking into a sharp-toothed smile.

“Grinning like there’s some kind of joke around here that I'm not in on.” When he pulls back to pick up more ink you shift in the chair, draw your legs up to cross underneath you and roll some of the tension from your shoulders.

“There’s no joke, hunny bun. Not about you.”

“Then what’s so funny?” 

He shakes his head as he returns to his work, still smiling to himself. “Ghost, that’s what. Bloke’s been broody these last few weeks. More than normal, anyway.”

Oh. 

“Had a bit of a tiff with Cap’ earlier. Dunno what about, but… I might have heard your name bein’ mentioned.”

“I thought you said this isn’t about me.”

“I said the joke isn’t about you. Never said what we’re pickin’ on him for isn’t about you.” He pauses his work just long enough to wink up at you, and you answer with a groan. “You don’t like him?” 

You’ve been doing your best to not think about him. Even if the feel of his hands, pushing and pulling to arrange you the way he wants, tracing roughened fingers over the letters on your thigh, lingers like a phantom touch against your skin every night. The memory of his eyes, depthless yet brimming with beguiling allure, is burned into your retinas, staring back at you everytime you close yours–every time you blink.

You’ve been doing your best not to think of him, and you've failed miserably.

“I don’t not like him, he just…” Kyle’s hand hovers over your arm, the numbing bite of his needle just out of reach, waiting for your answer. “He fucks with my head. Can’t figure him out.” 

Can’t get him out.

His smile shifts, full lips curled up at the edges and bright, intelligent eyes narrowed with a knowing glint. “Maybe that’s the point,” he surmises, and returns his attention to the half finished highlights.

In the days that follow, you start to think Kyle is right. That the reason Simon’s burrowed so deep under your skin is because that’s exactly where he wants to be, settling in with the same permanence as healing ink. An ever-present paresthesia that spreads like brushfire through the dried up remains of your resolve. Impossible to ignore.

Against your better judgment, you book your next session with him. This time, you’re determined not to let him get the better of you. 

It’s another large piece, stretching from the apex of your spine to just below your shoulder blades, and needs multiple sessions to get the finer details just right. In retrospect, you really haven’t set yourself up for success in this whole ‘don’t let him get to you’ matter with your choice of placement and the inherent lack of clothing involved, but you’re adamant about this time being different.

It’s John who checks you in and collects the same signature and waiver as they always do, making idle chat and asking how some of your pieces have been healing while you fill out the forms. Leggings cover the bulk of Simon’s last piece so you show him the work Kyle did instead, holding out your arm for him to inspect.

“Gaz certainly knows what he’s doing with pigment. Boy’s got a knack for vibrancy.”

“His work is as colorful as he is. And Johnny’s language.” His eyes crease when he laughs, a full-bellied sound that echoes through the studio. 

“Ghost should be ready for you. Same room as last time.” He gestures towards the hall with a tilt of his head, an unruly strand of hair escaping the hold of product and pomade to sway with the motion. “Good to see you, hun.” 

“Good to see you too, John.” 

No escort this time. You’re becoming something of a permanent fixture here, your presence something they’re quickly growing accustomed to. Ingratiated among their ranks and trusted to see yourself to each of their stations without need of their guidance.

Three short taps of your knuckles against the door, fading paint and a mess of stickers that are peeling around the edges dampening the sound, and Simon’s gruff voice grants you entry. When you crack the door open his back is to you, arranging his inks and tips to his specification on a rolling tray, clad in his usual monochromatic black. He’s silent as you slip inside, dropping your bag on the counter and shedding your jacket alongside it.

“Go on and get settled,” he directs, gesturing vaguely to the padded table beside him that’s replaced the chair from last time. His focus remains on setting up his station but you don't miss the way he cocks his head, watching you from his periphery. Once you’re comfortable, sitting cross-legged at the foot of the table, he reaches for the tablet on the counter beside him. “Gaz sent over the design? No changes?” he asks as he scrolls through the notes.

“Yeah, I’m really happy with the suggestions and revisions you made. It’s exactly what I’d envisioned when I sent over the references.” You fiddle with the hem of your tee, twirling a loose thread around your finger. “Should I…”

He looks up then, and it begins—the internal battle between logic and instinct. 

The latter begs to let yourself drown in his gaze. Swallow lungfuls of churning amber and nestle into the warm, mindless haze that creeps at the fringes of your mind like mist over the earth, tinged an ephemeral gold by the first rays of dawn. The former recoils from the flaring of pupils like they’re the unhinged jaws of a predator, swallowing all of the light in the room in a uniquely serpentine manner. Some fragmented imitation of self preservation screams for you to run.

It doesn’t scream loud enough.

“Still with me, sweetheart?” Pale skin puckers around his eyes. Fissures in granite, the molten core of him pouring through the cracks and searing every detail of them into your memory.

“Yeah, sorry…” The hum that reverberates in his chest ripples in the space between you in waves of gravel that settle against your skin like velvet.

“Gotta go print the stencil,” he begins, standing from his chair, and he draws your gaze up with him to his full height. “Be good while I’m gone, yeah?” Ink stained fingers brush against your cheek, and you realize it’s not a request but a demand when he doesn’t wait for your answer, worn leather creaking with each retreating footstep until the door closes behind him and you’re left in dazed silence.

You blink once. Twice. Drag a hand over your face to wipe away the feeling of phantom fingers, and release the breath you didn’t realize you’ve been holding in a dejected sigh. 

This doesn’t feel different. It feels exactly how it did last time. 

Sit. Stay. Behave. These are his demands, and you’re powerless to defy them. 

Each word uttered from behind that inane mask has the effect of being yanked by a leash. Dragging you along with him until you learn to match his gait, the cadence of his steps careful and measured, but the collar around your neck only ever gets tighter, reeling you in to heel at his side.

It should make you angry. Should rattle your head with alarm bells and shrill, screeching sirens. But all there is, is silence. Thick, hazy, blissful silence that swaddles your mind in an ardent blanket of warmth. A proverbial pulling of wool over your eyes.

But perhaps that’s too kind, not cruel enough, for the man whose presence smothers rationale and suffocates logic. Who steals the air from your lungs to feed his own conflagration and feeds it back to you on words, whetted by a duplicitous tongue, that feel like licking honey from a honed blade. Warm and sweet–but at what cost?

You wonder briefly if the slow slipping of your sanity is the price to be paid, and balk at the probability that he has even yet come to collect. You wonder briefly, because that is all the time you have. All the time you're allowed before the door swings open and in walks the phantasm of a man with righteous intent. 

When the door clicks closed behind him, it sounds more, you think, like the striking of a gavel. A thunderclap in the court of the heavens. The sealing of your fate by something far beyond your control. 

“Up,” his voice rumbles in the echoing thunder.

What?

He’s standing over you, hands flattened and fingers splayed on the table on either side of you, staring down at you expectantly. “Gotta take this off to get started,” he explains when you continue staring blankly up at him, dragging a hand over to your hip and curling his fingers into the same hem you’d been toying with not ten minutes ago. 

You can’t decipher whether it’s by some divine puppeteering or an infernal possession that your arms slowly lift and you allow him to pull your shirt over your head. Allow him to guide you down onto the table, prone with a pillow tucked under your head, and your right arm folded underneath. To unclasp your bra, unhook each strap from its band, and slide it out from under you.

He smooths transfer paper over your back, cold solution causing you to flinch at first contact, and he quells the beginnings of a whine with gentle sushing and a warm hand at your nape. “Jus’ some cold. Save those pretty sounds for me, hm?”

Time moves slowly, cocooned in a heady smoke and honey scented haze, threads of it woven into his blanketing aura, and it weighs heavy on your limbs. Makes your body feel as sluggish as your mind. 

“That’s it, good girl.” Numb and high on praise, you barely register the added weight of his arm slung across your lower back. A faint humming permeates your cocoon, accompanied by a distant fluttering that traces slow lines over your back, and a small, contented sound resonates in your chest. “So pretty like this. Such a pretty, empty head.”

This feels different. Nothing like the last time. There are no nerves that hum like livewires in your head. No furtive glances or chills that creep across your skin when you’re caught staring. He welcomes it–encourages it–but like the rest of you, your eyes feel heavy, lids drooping under a lulling weight. 

When that golden mist appears once more at the blurry edges of your mind, there is nothing that stops it from surging forward and swallowing you down to the dregs of slumber.

Waking up feels like surfacing from molasses, thick and syrupy tendrils of sleep still clinging to you and trying to hold you under a little longer. But there’s a stinging sensation that prickles your skin and won't go away, wrenches your body and mind free of its sluggish haze.

Your back feels raw, skin overworked and leaking plasma, but it's the stinging of your arm that clears the fog from your head.

You blink sleep crusted eyes against the harsh overhead lighting of the studio, spots dancing in your vision as it slowly adjusts. It’s been a long time since you've fallen asleep while getting tattooed, and you wonder if maybe you slept on your arm–had it twisted under you at some odd angle that’s cut off its circulation and made it numb with staticy pin pricks.

No, this is different.

Bright color blooms before you, and for a moment you wonder if it's a result of phosphenes; if the pressure of confusion building in your head has somehow distorted your vision. 

It isn’t.

The bright colors are a result of the newest tattoo on your arm, more than several weeks old by now, and the burning, itching sensation that should have long since passed is a result of the thick layer of fresh ink that's been overlaid.

‘MINE’ stares back at you in the hauntingly familiar scrawl of Simon’s hand.

Next>>>

©️Eilidh-Eternal.2024 ~ The intellectual property of Eilidh-Eternal is not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost simon riley #simon ‘ghost’ riley #simon “ghost” riley #simon riley fanfic #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x f!reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x female reader #ghost x f!reader #cod fanfic #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod mw #dub con #cw self harm #non con #grooming

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Blurbs: Smile

————————————————————————-

Summary: Joe’s learning his new girlfriend's ways, along with attempting to get bonus points with her dad.

Warnings: Pure fluff, illusions to smut at the end

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine Universe: Misc.

————————————————————————-

April 9, 2024

Y/n and I have been together for a month.

We met at a party Sam had at his house a few months back, she was his girlfriend’s college roommate and they were best friends till today.

The second I’d laid eyes on y/n, I was taken aback by her beauty.

Sam had noticed, and a sly smile was on his lips when he spoke the words I’d forever be thankful for.

“Go talk to her. She’s single.” - Sam

I had done as Sam said, and we hit it off immediately. By the end of the night, I worked up the courage to ask for her number.

Eventually, I asked her out on a date, and we ended up having the best time.

The rest is history and now we've been dating for a month.

We have a lot in common, but I realized the other day that we don't have the same taste in music.

I liked rap, pop, indie.

On the other hand, y/n loved oldies. Old rock, old soul, and anything 60’s, 70’s, 80’s.

I learned that the other day when I picked her up from her apartment to hang out at my place.

When she was in my passenger seat, y/n controlled the music, and when she shuffled her playlist, I realized I knew nothing.

“Do you know this?” - you

“Uh… no.” - Joe

“You’ve never heard My Girl by The Temptations?!” - you

After she left that night, I found the exact song that she played earlier. Y/n told me it was one of her favorite songs, and I knew I had to learn it.

1965?! Jesus…

I played it over and over. Over and over.

At the gym, in the shower, in my car, over a speaker at the house, in my headphones while playing video games. I was listening to this song as much as possible.

At times, I wondered why I was going through all of this trouble, but the song answered it for me.

My girl, my girl, my girl.

——

“Joey!!” - you

“Hey, baby.” - Joe

Y/n just arrived at my place for the evening and our sleepover. I was in the kitchen preparing dinner and for the rest of the day. We’d eat dinner together and probably cuddle for a bit before going to sleep.

If only she knew the surprise I had in store for her.

“I missed you.” - you

“Missed you too.” - Joe

She wrapped her arms around my middle as mine went to her waist. When y/n pulled away, I leaned down and kissed her soft lips. The chokehold this woman has on me is insane.

“C’mere, I wanna show you something.” - Joe

“What is it?” - you grin

I took her hand and led her to the middle of the kitchen, waking away for a second to click play on my phone that was connected to my speaker.

Her face lit up immediately when she heard the beginning of one of her favorite songs.

“What are you doing?” - you giggled

“C’mere. Dance with me.” - Joe

“You don't know this song!” - you

She said that just as the lyrics started, and y/n was surprised to see me sing along with it.

“What are you doing?” - you

“Dance with me!” - Joe

The look of surprise never left y/n’s face as she joined me in dancing around the kitchen.

I spun her around and pulled her close, dipping her shortly after.

“This is so fun.” - you grinned

“I’m surprised you're able to dance with me, I have two left feet.” - Joe

“You’re perfect, I promise.” - you

We grinned as we sang the chorus to each other, I could tell that y/n was loving every second of this.

Talkin’ ‘bout my girl, my girl

Y/n stepped back and spun around before running back into my arms, a slight pain in my cheeks from how much I was smiling.

In the last fifteen seconds of the song, we stood still, y/n’s arms around my neck and her hands connected at my nape while my arms were around her waist. Our foreheads rested against each other as we stared into each other’s eyes.

As the song faded out, we leaned in, and our lips softly met together. The beginning of a kiss and the ending of the song.

Y/n’s voice was quiet as she spoke, her voice muffled since her face was now pressed to my chest.

“That was the sweetest thing a guy’s ever done for me.” - you

“Yeah?” - Joe smiled

“I can’t believe you learned that whole song for me.” - you

“Well, after a conversation with your dad, he told me that you wanted that song at your wedding, so that means I kinda have to learn it.” - Joe

I regretted saying it as soon as it left my lips; we'd only been together for a month and never once talked about a future. Fuck I've messed up.

Y/n pulled away from my chest and looked up at me, the look in her eyes made my heart stop.

“Wait- forget I said that, I'm sorry.” - Joe

“No. No, it's okay.” - you smiled

I nervously laughed, the super breathy kind that tells on your emotions.

“Yeah?” - Joe

“Yeah. You're right, better to learn it sooner than later.” - you grinned

“You wanna marry me someday?” - Joe

“When the time comes, yes. There's a lot I want to do before that day rolls around, but I can’t picture walking down the aisle to anyone else.” - you

“Good. You don't think we're rushing things by having this conversation after only being together for a month?” - Joe

“You can't rush the inevitable, baby.” - you

I thought for a few seconds before blurting out something I'd been thinking since the moment I laid eyes on this woman.

“I love you.” - Joe

My heart was beating out of my chest when her eyes went wide, and her jaw dropped.

“Y-you do?” - you

“Yes, we just talked about marrying each other didn't we?” - Joe chuckled

I laughed to cover up my nervousness, but I don't think it worked. She hasn't said it back yet. If she was going to wouldn't she have said it back by now?

“Do you… do you love me?” - Joe

Y/n’s face fell from shock to amused, a laugh escaping her lips in the process.

“Wait- shit. Did I not say it back yet?” - you

“No.” - Joe states, face not changing

“Oh! I must've just said it in my head then, I was a little in shock.” - you giggled

Laughing together, when we settled down, I stared at her and waited for her to say it back.

“I love you too, Joe.” - you smiled

——

Later that night, y/n was in the shower, and I was already in bed.

I grinned to myself as I clipped the video I secretly took earlier when we were dancing in the kitchen.

Better cut it off before we kiss, I thought to myself.

Pulling up her dad’s contact in my phone, I sent him the video and a small text with it.

I'm learning! :)

I waited for his reply, a little nervous to see what he'd say back. I knew he liked me, but this was still his daughter we were dealing with.

When my phone vibrated, I immediately picked it up and clicked on his message.

Atta boy! I haven’t seen her smile like that in a long time, and I know it's because of you that she lights up like that again. Thank you for giving my daughter the treatment she deserves.

There’s nothing I love more than making her smile, she's already such a big part of my life. You're welcome, by the way, she deserves nothing but the best.

She feels the same way about you, son. I know she's spending the night at your house tonight, by the way, and I wasn't born yesterday, so stay safe. 👍

Will do. 😂

Just as I hit send, the door of the bathroom opened, but the shower was still on.

Y/n poked her head out of the door with a playful grin on her face.

“I know I'm supposed to be showering, but I can’t stop thinking about you. Wanna hop in with me?” - you winked

“Oh, hell yeah!” - Joe

I jumped off of the bed and ran towards the bathroom, simultaneously shoving my boxers down my legs. Y/n giggled as I chased after her and jumped into the shower.

She wrapped her arms around my neck as was started making out, the water flowing over our bodies.

“I was just talking to your dad.” - Joe

“Joe, why would you talk about my dad right before we're probably about to have sex?!” - you

————————————————————————-

Authors note: I wrote down one of my maladaptive daydreams… 💀

This came from my own head! 💞

#joe burrow #bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joey b #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow fan fic

[adnauseum11]

Situation Awareness (John Price x Reader)

John navigates his over-protective tendencies with you.

1.5k words

minor swearing

feedback welcome!

John absolutely insists on chauffeuring you to and from work for the rest of the week, despite your half-hearted protests. You can admit to yourself that you are less-than- secretly enjoying the break from public transport, able to arrive at work without being harassed or stressed out. Unfortunately, the job is still the bane of your existence. Normally you would be able to shake off the weight of the day before you saw or spoke to John, now however, he’s getting to see you in all your agitated glory. By Friday afternoon, your period arrives and you are deeply contrite. When John picks you up that evening, you feel the need to repent.

He leans over the center console to kiss you hello, as is your new routine. Your whispered, ‘I’m sorry’ against his mouth before you pull back has him raising his brow at you. 

“Sorry for what, darling? You’ve been here all of five seconds.” 

“For haranguing you to death about my stupid job and wanting to quit this week. I got my period today, so that explains that.”

John is silent for a beat, and then surprises you.

“I think if you hate your job you should quit, love. You can get another job eventually.”

“Eventually?”

“Maybe you should take some time and figure out what you would rather do instead.” 

John says gently, reaching across the console to rest his hand on your thigh. The warmth of his hand settles the tension in your body, and you look at his profile as he drives. The late afternoon light catches in his hair and whiskers of his face and you feel a rush of warmth flood your chest. You have to stop yourself from reaching out to touch him. John tilts his head, taking an assessing look at you before turning back to the road, his thumb drifting across the material of your pants. 

“You’re miserable there darling. That’s become very clear. Life’s too short to spend it like that.”

“I was going to chalk it up to my hormones, but really, giving me shit when I’ve been victimized might have been my last straw if I’m being honest. They really don’t give a shit about me.”

“So, leave and find something you enjoy doing. I’d rather see you doing something you believe in, love.”

John’s gravelly voice is earnest. He merges into the exit for the road to his flat, checking his rear-view mirror.

“What would you suggest, Mr. Retired and loving it? I have some savings I guess I could use.”

“Like you said, no time like the present.” John repeats your words from earlier in the week back to you, a small smile playing at the edge of his lips. “Let’s agree to not worry about money, I have enough for both of us until you sort yourself out. Take that out of your equation and focus on figuring out what would make you happy.” 

John turns his fingers up to you and you thread yours through them, his big hand nearly swallowing yours. Maybe because your hormones are all over the place, or maybe because John’s offer is incredibly sweet, but you find your vision swimming with tears in the next breath. 

“John.”

“You alright, love?” He’s all concern, catching a look at your face as he brakes at a red light. You grip his hand and swallow the words that are threatening to spill out, letting them choke you instead. 

“I only want what’s best for you darling.” 

He’s unsure, your reaction making him second guess himself, not something he does often.  

“I know.” You manage to squeak, your throat feeling too thick with emotion to speak.

“I hate seeing you cry, love.”

“Good tears.” You squeeze his hand and he lifts them, kissing the back of your hand. 

You hold onto him for the rest of the short drive back home, John letting you get a handle on yourself in comfortable silence. He doesn’t bring it up again, instead suggesting you change when you arrive home while he putters around in the kitchen, assembling ingredients for dinner. 

You don’t need to be told twice, practically diving into your pyjamas. You steal the plaid flannel shirt he rarely wears, the cheery red calling a bit too much attention for his liking. It swallows you up and you have to roll the sleeves back to have use of your hands, which is how you re-enter the kitchen. John pauses, raising his brow at you as you tuck the sleeve behind your elbow.

“If you’re here to help I would prefer if you weren’t.” He flicks the end of the knife in his hand, shooing you away again. 

“mm, hilarious. I will concede my knife skills are sub-par –“

“Sub-par? Try non-existent.” John corrects, going back to his chopping duties. You huff at him and cross your arms, watching the muscles in his forearms dance.

“- but I can be helpful elsewhere. What else do you need?”

John pauses, looking at you again, his smile fond.

“You can be in charge of wine, go get yourself a glass.”

“Well, that I can manage.” 

You check the ingredients again before taking yourself to the fridge to find a chilled white.

“Is this alright?” 

You ask, holding the bottle out to him. He glances at it and nods, pre-occupied with getting the chicken breasts into the oven. After wrestling the cork out of the bottle, you pour two glasses, John kissing you when you hand his over. 

“Well, if you don’t need me, I’ll be on the couch.”

 You announce, taking your wine and not waiting for a reply. You’ve been slowly turning over John’s offer in the car. It’s tantalizing, the thought of not having to paste on your fake smile every working day. The possibility of a new career steals your focus from the show running on the telly. 

When John joins you a few minutes later, a timer set on his phone, you’ve claimed your usual spot tucked up against the arm rest. John slides in beside you, his arm going over the back of the couch as you resume your familiar positions. You rest your wine glass on his stomach, curling into him as he kicks his feet up onto the coffee table. You let him settle in for a moment before you muster your courage.

“Were you serious earlier?”

John nods, not needing clarification on what it is your asking.

“Of course, love, I wouldn’t tease you about that.”

He tugs the ends of your hair, making you look at him. You delay from saying anything further by taking a sip of your wine.

“Considering it?” He cajoles, watching your face. You bite your bottom lip and look back at him, his blue eyes radiating calm curiosity. 

“Yeah.” You admit, and the triumphant smile that creeps across his handsome face is almost too smug to bear.

“First Christmas together in this place.” John adds. “Might be nice to have nowhere to be over the holidays.” He’s hinting, the season a mere few weeks away.  

You look at him properly at that, his blue eyes focused on you. The corners of his eyes are turned up in a small squint as he tries to gauge your reaction. You juggle your wine into your other hand so you can give in to the impulse to stroke his facial hair, cupping your palm over the wiry hairs. The warmth of his body is reassuring, relaxing your achy muscles. John leans into your touch like a house cat, looking well pleased with himself.

“You don’t have plans with your mates from work this year?”

“If we do get together this year it would be last minute, darling, but nothing slated right now. You?”

That gives you pause, your palm dropping from his cheek to rest lightly on the centre of his chest. 

“No, I was going to work. You know my idiot brother is still in Wales with his family.”

“I’m sure we can find something better to do with your time over the holidays than work.” John’s tone is gently suggestive and you smile, patting his chest.

“I don’t doubt that. Should I do it? Quit my job? It just seems so crazy impulsive after everything this week.”

You can feel the smooth roll of his muscles as he shrugs, raising his eyebrow at you.

“I know better than to tell you what to do, love. Just offering you an out, if you want it.”

You exchange a long look before he gently takes the wine glass out of your hand and sets it beside his on the coffee table. You feel another wash of emotion rush over you when he cups your chin and kisses you, resting his forehead against yours.

“No judgements here. Do you want the out?”

You make a tiny nod, gripping the front of his shirt tightly, suddenly needing a lifeline. 

“Then take it.” His voice is reassuringly confident. 

You hesitatingly agree, your voice soft. You take the opportunity to burrow into John’s side, the comforting wall of muscle and heat grounding your anxieties. You tuck your face into his neck, leaning into his bulk. John makes no effort to shift you, letting you settle into him until his timer goes off and he has to disentangle himself to deal with dinner. He lets you marinate on your decision for the rest of the evening without further comment, his soothing touch eventually lulling you to sleep on the couch.  

Next Chapter

Ao3

Tag list: @deadbranch @beebeechaos @cadotoast @syoddeye @writeforfandoms @itr-00 @chloepluto1306 @batw3nch

#fanfic #captain john price #call of duty #john price x reader #john price cod #john price #friends to lovers #john price x f!reader #quit your job #john price x you #captain price #cod fanfic #fanfiction

[navybrat817]

Do Stud and Smartie do a nice Thanksgiving or do they just have a relaxing day?

It would be low-key if they celebrated, nonnie!

So Thankful

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You share some laughs with Bucky while you cook together.

Word Count: Over 1.1k

Warnings: Puns (so many puns), fluff, being thankful, inner monologue, established relationship, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Short and sweet for Stud and Smartie. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was Bucky’s idea to start cooking early so you could eat sooner and relax later. You were more than okay with that. While today reminded you of the blessings to count and memories to cherish, neither of you wanted to go overboard. A nice, simple meal to show that two of you were thankful for the good things in your life and each other was more than enough.

No traveling. No stress. Just each other.

I’ll always be thankful for you, Stud.

You glanced over at Bucky as he checked on the food in the oven before you went back to your task at hand. The kitchen was a safe haven in your apartment and making meals together was something you looked forward to no matter what the occasion. Though the space could be hectic at times with the banging pots and sizzling sounds, it was also an area to relax and have fun with your creations.

The impromptu dance breaks brought an extra layer of warmth in between cooking.

Bucky looked over your shoulder as he came up behind you with a small hum. “Looks good,” he commented as you added a pinch of spice to one of the side dishes.

You angled your head to brush your lips along his jaw and took a moment to breathe him in. He wrapped an arm around your waist in return and he pulled you close. “You look even better.”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” you smiled.

“I'm a mess,” he mumbled, giving your jaw a kiss. “Don't even have a shirt on.”

“And I'm thankful for that,” you sighed dreamily. He said earlier that he’d put a shirt on once you finished cooking, but you would've been happy if he stayed in his sinfully sexy gray sweatpants only. “So, so thankful.”

“I don't think our families would appreciate me video chatting with them without my shirt on,” he joked.

You snorted as you tried to picture the look on your mom and dad’s faces. As much as you missed not seeing them today, the video chat would help. If Bucky really didn't wear a shirt, they would make light of it.

And nothing would top the hickey discussion, your cheeks hot from the memory alone.

“Becca would never let you hear the end of that,” you said, leaning back against him. “And you may have to put a shirt on, but you'll have to eventually get out of those pants.”

He chuckled deeply, your eyes fluttering shut when his mouth touched your ear. “Will you help me with that?”

“You know I will,” you replied, smiling to yourself. “And I hope this dinner won’t be the only thing filling me up tonight.”

Bucky pulled away from your ear before he burst out laughing, the happy sound reverberating in the room as his chest moved against your back. It was like he was sharing his laughter with you. “Well, I’d love to stuff your turkey,” he said once he caught his breath.

“Yeah?” You smirked, turning in his arms to face him. “You wanna butter my biscuits?”

What’s a day like this without puns?

His eyes crinkled like he was going to laugh again. “Oh, yeah. I’ll butter your biscuits real good,” he rasped. It wasn't fair that his puns sounded sexy while yours sounded ridiculous. “Maybe I'll candy your yams, too.”

“Oh, my God,” you giggled when he pushed his body against yours and pressed your back into the counter.

“I’m not God. I'm just Bucky,” he grinned, leaning in close enough that his lips touched yours. “But maybe I can show you my meat thermometer and you can drop to your knees like you’ll pray for me to put it in your mouth.”

I mean, yes.

“Okay, seriously. What the hell have you done with my Stud?” You demanded, trying to shove him back even as heat shot through your body. Your beefy man didn't even have the gall to budge.

“Just let me check your temperature,” he pleaded with an innocent stare, a great contrast to what he was offering. “Make sure you’re hot and ready.”

“How did you say that with a straight face? How?!”

“This is me. This is who you're marrying,” he said proudly, your cheeks warm at the reminder that the gorgeous man in your personal space was going to be your husband. The heat rose more when his gaze swept over your body. “And I can't decide what I want first. Thighs or breasts. Both are juicy and delicious.”

You sharply inhaled as his eyes darkened a shade. “I don't know if I want you to stop or continue, but I’m telling everyone at Friendsgiving this weekend what you said.”

He tilted his head as if he was contemplating the options. “I think you want me to continue, especially since the turkey isn't the only thing that needs basting.”

I’ve created a monster.

You giggled all over again, your side almost aching. “St-Stop,” you wheezed.

He framed your face and kissed the tip of your nose, his touch almost drawing a whimper from you as you calmed down. “I'm sorry,” he said sincerely before he smirked again. “Why don't I give you something to gobble on until we eat? It might help.”

I must stop this man.

“You think you’re so ‘punny’,” you said, resting your hands over his. And he was. He would always find a way to make you laugh.

The charming smile he gave you was almost hot enough to melt your panties. “I like to think I'm adorkable.”

Yes. Yes, you are.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “This is what I have to look forward to, huh? A lifetime of this?”

Bucky’s eyes went soft before he closed them, pulling you in for a deep kiss. He kissed you like it was as easy as breathing, open, steady, and natural. It was like the floor beneath your feet vanished. You floated, but his lips and tongue tethered you to him. It reminded you how loved you were.

And you would always be thankful that he gave you that gift.

“As long as you're by my side, it’ll be the best life I live,” he whispered, giving you another soft kiss. “And I’m very much looking forward to it.”

You had to swallow the tears in your throat. Who wouldn't choke up at that? “I’m looking forward to it, too,” you whispered, your heart racing at the fond look in his eyes. “And Stud?”

“Yeah, Smartie?”

You smiled, having to get one last pun in. “You’re welcome to mash my potatoes anytime.”

Oh, these two. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #roommate!bucky barnes x reader #stud and smartie #bucky barnes #roommate!bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky fic #roommate au #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x reader

[holdinbacksecrets]

uninhibited (and drunk) voicemails from seventeen

forever sending gratitude and love to j @un-love for helping assign these

seungcheol: “i watched you tonight with another man. he held your hand and kissed your forehead. he drank your tea first to check the temperature. he made you laugh. for real. i know because you covered your mouth, still feeling insecure about how far it opens when the reaction can’t be avoided—when the something said was so funny it surprised you. you’re wearing red. your arms were exposed for a while, and i felt my eyes prick with tears at the sight of more tattoos on your skin. ones i didn’t know about. maybe ones you mentioned when they were still just possibilities in your head. not once did i think i wouldn’t see them actualized. not once did i imagine another man’s fingers brushing the ink through the motion of draping his jacket around your shoulders.”

jeonghan: “i’m at home and alone, and it’s wrong to call you. it’s so unfair to call you. i didn’t know how to tell you that the wanting is scary. that the way we love each other is impossible—not for a second do i believe it’s possible to have again, and i’m fucking afraid, probably because i know how much you’ve grown. the thought of letting you down leaves a sour taste, and i’m trying not to be so fucking afraid.”

joshua: “i’m sobering up now, sitting on my mom’s back porch. earlier, i was trying to describe the color of your hair. the best i could come up with was blue frosting like the cupcakes she made for my 10th birthday party. isn’t that outrageous? embarrassing? in my head was a poem, but the alcohol released the silliest set of words i could’ve possibly used to describe a part of you.”

jun: “everything is weird. everyone is strange to me today except for you. i’m drunk. i lost my shoes at some point in the night i think. i can’t recognize anyone around me. their voices don’t sound familiar. i wish you were here. i wish you’d tell me this is miserable for you too; it’s not worth it anymore. would you tell me the truth if i asked? sorry. what a stupid question. i don’t know anyone more honest.”

soonyoung: “i should’ve watched you all day more often. i dream about that. i wanted to, but something always had my attention or interrupted its focus on you. i’m laying here with my eyes closed, imagining all the moments i did watch and wondering if every single one pieced together could consume an entire day.”

wonwoo: “is it ok that i still have your spare key? i’d like to believe it’s something you’d ask to get back, but i wonder if that call isn’t worth making. if the idea of seeing me makes you anxious. but you trust me. out of everyone to still have access to your home, it’s ok that it’s me. i feel sad thinking about it.”

jihoon: “you baked cookies. i froze half of them. there’s one left, and i’m debating whether or not to eat it today. it’s freezing outside, and any view through my window is ruined by the snow. it feels like the perfect night for a cookie with what’s left of my second americano like i can risk losing sleep, but what will be left from you if i give in? everything else feels lifeless—it’s been so long since you’ve touch the clothes and read the books.”

seokmin: “i’m going to a wedding tomorrow. your old neighbor is getting married, and i thought about so many things when he sent me the invitation. i thought he was in love with you for the longest time. remember that? it took me months to admit. then he told me he’s just protective, and i realized there are so many people who see us and care without us ever knowing. so i wondered about a what if between us… what if our paths crossing was shallow and they never intertwined? what if you were just a woman in the grocery store who i’d see once in a while if the timing was right? how long would i think about you before forgetting your face, before forgetting i ever saw you? unless i never would and end up talking about you in my old age to adult children who only know i loved their mother.”

mingyu: “is it ok to call you in the middle of the night? you told me i could. years have passed since that conversation. *laughs* is it strange to think about us back then? how we started on a park bench, basically dated for two years on a park bench. i still think about how your approach to reach me gave away your feelings. you started poised, avoiding eye contact. then it became goofy looks and confident strides before calling my name and skipping to singing the song stuck in your head while you ran to me. i can’t help but wonder what would it look like now?”

minghao: “if you listen to this voicemail, can you tell me what you want? whatever comes to mind after hearing the question. from something small to something weird and the the thing you believe is better left unsaid as if i’d judge the answer, but i won’t. i have no reason to judge you. all i have is curiosity and love and hope for your every day, every want, every touch, every song you sing, every picture you hang, and every night spent barefoot on the balcony- i want to marry you.”

seungkwan: “there’s something on my mind. i’ve wanted to tell you all day. i thought about it at breakfast and started texting you before my manager called and interrupted. so here it is: i used to not understand how tired you’d be with me around. i thought i was boring you for the longest time until i visited my sisters. they exchanged a knowing smile before telling me you’re completely comfortable, that you feel safe enough to slip into the kind of vulnerability that only sleepiness and sleep allow, with your guard lowered, and your heart open. i appreciate how much of you i’ve seen, how deeply i know you—knew you… know you? hmm…”

hansol: “are you traveling? i hope you’re traveling. i know it’s something you promised to do at the start of your 26th year. where did you go? … are you taking lots of pictures? … how does the moon look? that’s your souvenir: the moon in the sky a thousand miles away from home. when you told me the moon thing, i realized i knew nothing about you, and i wanted to know everything.”

chan: “you were in the audience tonight? i didn’t… i wasn’t… thank you for coming. i mailed a ticket, but it was returned to sender. *clears throat* you’re the only person i couldn’t shake wanting to be there. do you know what i mean? people from our pasts we wish could still be present, especially for things they witnessed in early stages. i could shake off all the other absences… old friends, a mentor, but you… *sigh* no way.”

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen blurbs #seventeen drabbles #seventeen angst #seventeen fic #seungcheol scenarios #jeonghan scenarios #joshua scenarios #jun scenarios #soonyoung scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #jihoon scenarios #seokmin scenarios #mingyu scenarios #minghao scenarios #seungkwan scenarios #hansol scenarios #chan scenarios

[pedroscurls]

second chances | pt. 4

Character(s): Marcus Pike x fem!Reader Summary: You and Marcus go to IKEA and confessions are made. Word count: 3.1k A/N: Shout out to the anon who gave me the idea about those plushies! I hope you all enjoyed this part. I know it's a slow burn, but the wait will be worth it! I promise🫶 Warning: None.  SERIES MASTERLIST - ultimate masterlist

“Good night, angel.” 

You couldn’t get it out of your head. Couldn’t get Marcus out of your head. Couldn’t get the feeling of having his arms around you out of your head. You try to sleep, try to get some rest, but you’re lying in your bed, staring up at your ceiling with thoughts of him. Finding someone you were interested in wasn’t ever part of your plan once you moved to DC. You had put all your focus into your new job that you didn’t anticipate him, didn’t expect someone to occupy your thoughts most of the time. 

You hear your phone vibrate, pulling you out of your thoughts but when you see his name on the screen, your heart flutters. It’s surprising to you at how much of an effect Marcus has on you. You and Marcus exchanged numbers about a week after meeting each other and when you were both away at work, you’d send each other scattered texts throughout the day. 

But rarely did you ever receive a text from him once you were both home. 

It was well after one in the morning and when you open the text, you immediately grin. 

Marcus: Figured after IKEA, we can grab a bite to eat? If you’d like. 

You wonder if he knows you’re awake. You wonder if he’s having trouble sleeping too. You wonder if he’s excited to spend the day with you tomorrow. 

So, without hesitating, you type a reply.

You know, we both said we should call it a night… Looks like neither of us can sleep. But I’d love to grab something to eat after IKEA, Marcus. 

You’re about to put your phone down but Marcus replies just as quickly. 

Marcus: What can I say? I’m pretty excited to spend the day with you. 

You blush and smile so big that it reaches your eyes. He’s just right next door and you want so badly to just leave your apartment and go to his, to be in the comfort of his arms. Being so close to him earlier that night made your stomach do flips. His arms are so strong, yet so gentle when he wrapped them around you. 

I’m excited too, Marcus. 

Marcus: Okay, we should really get some rest. I’ll see you later. 

Night, Marcus. 

Marcus: Sweet dreams, angel. 

You want to scream, want to kick your feet in the air with such excitement because your heart is so full of joy right now. The pet name hadn’t just slipped out of his mouth earlier. He meant to say it. 

You set your phone aside and shut your eyes, forcing yourself to at least get some sleep before later today. 

—

Marcus couldn’t sleep. All he could think about was having you in his apartment and how well you just fit right in with him. He can still hear your laugh, see your smile, feel your arms wrap around him and he wants more of it. Wants more of you. He still tries to tell himself that nothing can happen, that he doesn’t want to get hurt again, but he feels a pull whenever he thinks about you, whenever he sees you. It’s something he hasn’t ever felt before, not with his ex-wife and certainly not with Lisbon. 

He tries to tell himself to ignore his feelings, to just be your friend, but it becomes increasingly difficult whenever you look at him with such hopeful and excited eyes. He knows that you’re interested in him, knows that there’s an obvious mutual attraction, and he certainly appreciates that you’re not pushing anything further. Instead, you’re going at his pace, allowing him to set the boundaries. 

But Marcus does really like you. 

And when he called you angel, Marcus had noticed the way your eyes lit up, the blush slowly appearing on your cheeks and while it had come out on accident, he found himself realizing that he wanted to say it every chance he could get. 

Truthfully, he couldn’t wait to spend the day with you. His mind continues to go back and forth between the possibility of creating something more with you and the possibility of getting hurt all over again. He feels something whenever he’s around you, a slight tug on his heart, a certain type of pull towards you, and more often than not, you occupy most of his thoughts when you’re not around. 

There’s something about you that makes Marcus realize that this could be something real. Realer than it was with his ex-wife and certainly more real than what he had with Lisbon. 

—

It takes you multiple outfit changes for you to finally settle on something more casual, more relaxed and your bedroom is a complete mess due to the scattered clothes on your bed and floor. You’re scrambling to get the door when you hear a couple of knocks, knowing that it’s Marcus. 

You take a quick look at yourself and let out a nervous sigh. You’re dressed in light denim jeans, a cropped white, high neck tank top, and a navy blue oversized cardigan. You didn’t have enough time to fix your hair, so you grab a hair clip and put your hair up into it, a few strands falling in front of your face. 

Finally opening the front door, Marcus is standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. He’s dressed just as casually too – dark jeans and a dark gray shirt. You look up at him, taking note of the fabric of his shirt stretching over his thick arms and he’s smiling at you, big enough that the dimple on his right cheek makes an appearance yet again. 

“Hey,” he says. “You ready to go?” 

You nod and grab your bag to sling it across your body. You step out of your apartment, locking it behind you and then flashing Marcus a thumbs up. “All set.” 

“Great, you want me to drive?” 

“Will that be okay?” 

Marcus nods. “Of course. I’ve been meaning to show you around DC too, so maybe we can do that once we’re done with IKEA and grabbing a bite to eat.” 

You lead him towards the elevator doors and you click the down button, waiting for the doors to open. You look over at him and smile. “You want to spend the whole day with me?” you say hopefully. 

Marcus nods, looking deeply into your eyes. He gently pushes the fallen strands of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. He’s well aware now of the close proximity and how the color in your cheeks slowly begin to get pinker. 

“Of course I want to spend the day with you. Do you want to spend the day with me?” he asks quietly. 

You find that you’re stepping closer to him and you’re about to bring your hand up to rest over his, but the sound of the elevator doors open and his hand drops back to his side. 

Taking a deep breath, you follow him into the elevator and press the button to the car garage. “Well, I did invite you, didn’t I?” you tease, trying to shake the lingering tension and the fact that he literally just tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear. 

“Fair point,” Marcus chuckles. You both lean against the wall of the elevator and Marcus stands so close to you that your hand continues to brush against his, but he keeps his eyes focused straight ahead as the elevator begins to descend. 

“So, any idea on what you might be looking for when we get there?” You ask, trying to ignore the fact that he’s so close to you. 

“Nope,” he answers. “I guess you can say I’m gonna go in with an open mind. What about you?” 

“I really want some art work, maybe some frames. Ooh,” you say, almost like an invisible light bulb appears above your head. “Maybe an ottoman.”

Marcus laughs quietly and looks over at you. “So, it sounds like you have no idea what you’re looking for either.”

You narrow your eyes playfully and then cross your arms over your chest, pouting. “At least I have some idea.” 

“You’re cute when you pout. Now, come on.” Marcus winks. The elevator doors open and he steps out, leading you towards his car. Once there, he opens the passenger door for you and waits until you’re seated inside before he shuts the door. 

“Such a gentleman,” you smile, buckling your seatbelt and looking over at him when he climbs into the driver’s seat. 

“Thought we already established that,” he chuckles. “You ready?” 

You nod with a smile. “Let’s go.”

—

About half an hour later, you and Marcus are walking side by side into IKEA. There’s quite a lot of people already and you notice how Marcus is looking around, careful not to bump into anyone or get into anyone’s personal space. So instead, you take the initiative and reach for his hand, leading him up the stairs and towards the “beginning” of the store. 

Marcus looks down at your hands and he has to resist the urge to lace his fingers with yours. This is innocent enough and he appreciates you leading the way because being in a store like this is out of Marcus’s element. 

Once at the top of the stairs, he sees a variety of couches on display, but what catches his eye are the handful of living room displays specifically. It’s straight out of a catalog and he feels you pull him towards one of the displays, only letting go of his hand when you realize it’s only the two of you in the small space. 

“Oh, this is nice,” you say, arms swinging at your sides as you plop down onto the dark gray couch. “Come sit.” 

Marcus smiles and sits next to you, arm draped at the back of the couch as you lean against him. “It’s nice. Comfy.” 

In addition to the couch, there’s a wooden coffee table sitting in front of the both of you along with a TV placed atop of a wooden TV stand with three cabinets below. It’s very modern, but while you usually would take your time imagining certain displays in your home, all you can think about is the man next to you. 

“Yeah, but I’m still on the lookout for an ottoman.” 

Marcus chuckles and then stands up from the couch. He reaches out a hand for you to take and looks down at you. “Well then, we’re not going to find one just by sitting here.” 

“But the best part about IKEA is imagining that all of this belongs to you,” you giggle, taking his hand and standing up from the couch. 

“We could be here for hours then,” he teases.

“Exactly.” 

“Wait,” Marcus says, walking to catch up to you once you begin walking away. “We’re not going to be here for hours though, right?” 

“Why? Got other plans?” you tease.

“Well,” Marcus chuckles. “I really want to take you to this really nice restaurant tonight, but… If you want to spend our day here, that’s fine with me.”

“No! A really nice restaurant sounds good to me.” 

“I thought so,” he winks. “Now, let’s go find you an ottoman.” 

This time, Marcus is the one that takes your hand and leads the way. You blush immediately and follow him eagerly. Walking around with him like this feels so normal. It just feels like a regular day you would spend with your boyfriend, looking at things to buy to decorate your home. You catch yourself staring at him more often than you should, especially since he seems to be clearly focused on helping you find an ottoman. 

You pull away from him only when you see the displays for the kitchens appear. Grinning excitedly, you make your way to the display that catches your eye almost instantly. You let your fingers dance along the wooden countertop of the kitchen counter, imagining that this was your kitchen. The color of the black cabinets are black with wooden countertops. It’s a modern take of an old traditional kitchen farmhouse. 

Marcus leans against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest and smiles at you. “You like this one, I take it?” 

“I do,” you smile. “I really like the black cabinets and the wooden countertop accents.” 

“I can imagine you cooking in a kitchen like this.”

“Yeah?” 

Marcus nods, coming around the kitchen island to stand next to you. “This is also the type of kitchen I’d like in my own place too.” 

You bite your lower lip and look up at him. “Seems like we both have good tastes.”

“Seems like it,” Marcus rests a hand on the counter and leans in closer to you. “What would be the first thing you’d make in a kitchen like this?” 

“Hmm, if you’re coming over, definitely my pesto pasta.” 

Marcus grins and thinks back to the first time he had dinner with you, how you had invited him over to make sure he would have something to eat. “Oh, that is my favorite.”

You bite your lower lip and step closer to him, clearly in his personal space as you look up at him. The front of your bodies barely graze one another before the sound of a family enters the kitchen display. Suddenly, you’re very aware of how close and intimate you are with him and you both take a step back, giving each other some distance. 

“Ottoman?” you ask. 

“Yeah, let’s keep looking.”

—

You and Marcus had been at IKEA for almost an hour with no luck in finding an ottoman that you liked. Truthfully, Marcus doesn’t want this day to end. Stopping at almost each display that IKEA had gives him a glimpse of what life could be like with you. How sitting in that living room at the beginning makes him think of movie nights, cuddling on the couch or how seeing you stand in that kitchen display makes him imagine coming home every day to see you cooking dinner. This – It all feels so real and so normal with you. 

Deciding that you might not leave with an ottoman today, you spend the rest of the hour just browsing around with Marcus. It isn’t until you get to the children’s area that you come up with an idea and make a beeline towards the variety of stuffed animals they have on display. 

Marcus follows you casually, hands in his pockets, as he finds your smile and happiness so infectious. “Planning on getting stuff for your classroom?”

“No…” you say, looking through the variety of animals. 

“Ah, so for your apartment?” 

“Something like that…”

“It’s too bad they don’t make quokkas as stuffed animals,” Marcus points out.

“Quokkas?” 

“Yeah. You know, from Australia, known to be the ‘happiest animal’ in the world because of how cute they look.” 

“I know what quokkas are…” you chuckle. “But what made you think of quokkas?” 

“You.”

“Me?” you ask, looking up at him. “Why?”

“Well, because you’re cute.” Marcus chuckles. “And whenever you get excited about something or talk about your job, your eyes get so big and you get this biggest grin on your face. It’s cute. Like a quokka.” 

You blush and shake your head, biting your lower lip. “Yeah, yeah.” you playfully roll your eyes and go back to looking in the bin of stuffed animals and then grab two teddy bears. You lift it up in his direction and grin. “One for you and one for me?” 

“Great,” Marcus grins, taking both of the stuffed animals in his hand. “On me.” 

“Wait, Marcus, no–”

“Come on.” Marcus interrupts, using his free hand to take yours into his own. “I’m starving.” 

“We can get meatballs here?”

Marcus shakes his head. “Nope. I’ve got a spot in mind.

“Okay, but can we get ice cream before we leave? IKEA has a small food court and it’s like tradition that I leave with an ice cream cone, but if–”

“See,” Marcus grins. “Cute.” 

—

Once you and Marcus check out, you lead him towards the small food court and wait in line. He’s holding the two stuffed teddy bears in his arm while still keeping a hold on your hand. You look up at him and bite your lower lip, feeling the courage to slowly lace your fingers with his own. 

Marcus’s attention moves from the menu to look down at you once he feels your fingers entwine with his. He sees your lower lip between your teeth and you’re looking up at him nervously, as if you’re trying to gauge if this was okay, if holding your hand like this was fine with him. 

He doesn’t say anything. Marcus just steps closer to you and gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “So, just a vanilla ice cream cone?” 

“Yeah,” you nod. “Tradition.”

Marcus smiles. “A tradition you created or…”

“Something me and my family would always do after an IKEA trip.” you smile to yourself, running the pad of your thumb across the back of his hand. 

“Would you all get a vanilla ice cream cone?” he chuckles.

“No, just me, but they would get their cinnamon rolls.” 

Marcus smiles and gently takes your joined hands to his lips, pressing a soft and gentle kiss on the back of your hand. “I want you to know that I’d like to get to know more about you,” he confesses. “If that’s okay.”

You nod almost too quickly, biting the inside of your cheek. You’re staring so deeply into his dark brown eyes that everything around the both of you seems to slowly disappear. “I’d like that, a lot.”

Marcus smiles. “Great. So, tonight… Would you like to go out on a date?” 

“Oh, to that really nice restaurant you mentioned?” you smile. 

Marcus chuckles and nods, letting your hands now drop back down. “Yes, to that really nice restaurant.” 

“Of course, Marcus, but can we still grab lunch?” 

He grins. “Well, we did say we were gonna spend the day together. That includes lunch.” 

Your cheeks are hurting from smiling so big, but you can’t help it. You’re so happy and you lean against his arm, keeping a hold on his hand. “I just want to make sure that you still–”

Marcus looks down at you and gently presses a kiss on your forehead. “I like spending time with you, angel. Being around you just– I feel happier, lighter…”

You let out a contented sigh and nod, wrapping your free arm around his and holding him close to you. “I can’t believe we’re expressing our feelings while waiting in line at IKEA’s food court.” 

He lets out a quiet laugh and then kisses the crown of your head. “Well, I was gonna tell you how I felt regardless.” 

“And just so we’re clear,” you say softly. “I like spending time with you too, Marcus, and… I really do like you.”

—

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