#he KNOWS he’s making the right choice and refuses to back down

[syo0x]

Hi! I hope you're doing well :)

Could I was wondering if you could write a gn!reader who is sick and refused to take their meds. So PM Dazai and Fyodor who are already fed up and annoyed with the whining about feeling sick, take the pills and water into their own mouth and kiss the reader to make them take their pills. And afterwards saying something to make the reader swallow.

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•BSD men with a stubborn sick s/o

•Characters: Fyodor, Dazai, + Chuuya

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Everything felt dizzy... as you lay down the couch while you wait for Fyodor to come back. You don't know when you felt so heavy, as you heard the door unlocked and saw Fyodor.

"Welcome, baaack.." You said while he saw you completely looked sick.

Fyodor's expression falls the moment he notices the state you're in. He approaches you, careful not to disturb you too much. He looks worried. "My, my dear, you don't look well." His voice contains a slight note of concern. This is... not something Fyodor is accustomed to. "Are you alright?"

"I dunnnoo.." You said as Fyodor kneels next to you. His hands rest on your forehead to check on your temperature.

"Oh, dear. You must've caught a cold." He then looked at you sighing... he was worried about how you got cold.

"I shall return with the necessary items in merely a second." Fyodor walks off and comes back carrying medications, drink. He sits next to you on the couch and gently places you in his lap. "Now, now... I know this tastes not to your liking, but you must drink it. It'll alleviate your symptoms to a certain extent."

You kept your mouth closed, refusing to drink the medicine.. you hate the way you have to drink some bitter medicine. As you looked away and not daring to even look at what Fyodor was holding.

"Im not gonna drink that.." You said being stubborn after seeing the medicine colour just makes you feel sick.

"Be a dear and make it easier for both of us. I don't want to resort to more drastic methods. Drink it." His tone has grown colder again, a note of annoyance evident.

There were still no signs that you're going to take of you taking the medicine.

"I don't waaaant to..." You said... Fyodor sighs.. and have enough with your protest.. but he can't help to adore your vulnerable state and being stubborn. He loves the view he's viewing right now, but he has no choice but to do it.

As you feel Fyodor's hand on the back of your head, and he tilts you upward. He kisses you on the lips, sliding the cold liquid into your mouth. His tongue forces the medicine down, and just like that, he holds your mouth closed until he's sure you have swallowed everything.

You can taste the bitter aftertaste running down your throat as Fyodor pulls away. You were speechless as he still looked at you with a serious expression of him as you were so stubborn.

A blush spread on your cheek as you kept quiet on what just happened... as he smiled mischievously.

"Now.. close your eyes and rest.. you don't want me to make me use other methods for you to obey, right?" He then kissed your forehead and made sure you're comfortable. It's pretty rare to see this side of Fyodor.. as your eyelids slowly get heavy and make you fall asleep.

━━━━━━━━━━━━ PM Dazai ━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Belllaa~" Dazai won't stop cudding with you as how much you've been saying you're sick and still snuggle up to you.

"We can't cuddle right know..." You said.. slowly nudging him as you felt bad.. you wanna cuddle with him too but you don't want him to get sick.

Dazai continues leaning forward until only their noses are touching, he whispers in a voice that is barely audible. ".. How about we just spend time together until you get better..?"

Dazai's hand remains gently pressed against your cheek, his thumb occasionally gently rubbing against your skin. Dazai leans back as he continues speaking

Dazai keeps smiling and continues whispering, "... Because there'll be no shortage of opportunities to do more than just caring for you."

Dazai's hand remains gently pressed against your cheek as he leans closer once again and speaks with a soft and comforting voice. "You're mine after all.." He said, smiling at you.

You felt more dizzy as you can't really much tell what's Dazai was saying he noticed that you were starting to feel dizzy. His hand remains gently pressed against your cheek, but he leans back. His voice becomes softer, and he grabs some medicine.

He tried to be as convincing as possible as he spoke. He knows you're going to be stubborn when you have to drink medicine.

"Come on, just drink it up. It won't taste very nice, but it'll get your cold control faster so you feel better...then we cuddle you know..?"

He said as he looks at you pleading.. You didn't fall for it as you kept refusing.

"No.. im not going to drink that..!" You said and avoiding his gaze.

Dazai chuckles softly as he speaks, his tone becoming more seductive and comforting as he was slightly annoyed.. how can he cuddle you if you kept going like this..? he then leans closer towards you

"... You're really too stubborn at times, you know that? Fine.. let's do this on easy way.."

Dazai's hand firmly held your chin as it forces your jaw open just wide enough so he can pour the medicine into your mouth. Dazai keeps a firm grip of your chin the entire time so you can't spit it out.

Dazai chuckles as he feels your tongue trying to push the medicine back out of your mouth. Dazai then seals your lips with his, forcefully preventing you from pushing the medicine back out. Dazai's other hand holds you in the tight grip as he forces you to swallow the medicine.

You were surprised as you tried to push him away refusing to swallow it Dazai doesn't give you any breathing space to refuse the medicine as he keeps holding your mouth sealed shut with his. His hand keeps on firmly gripping your chin as you try to move your head away from his. He keeps trying to make you swallow the medicine.

Dazai eventually manages to make you swallow the medicine in its entirety because of how hard he pressed his lips against yours. The medicine is gradually flowing down your throat and into your stomach.

Dazai pulls away smirking as he gave you a kiss again as you clearly start to struggle to breath and a blush spread across your face. Dazai kept repeating the same loop and immediately throw a pillow at him to stopped Dazai.

"Im not done kissing you yet..!" He said.. with the look of lust on his eyes as he took a note of you blushing a smirk can be seen on his face. "Oh..?~ You liked it after all.." He said teasingly.

He then snuggled up to you feeling relief you've taken your medicine.. "Now we can cuddle now..~" You still felt flustered and felt so defeated by his kiss.. Maybe next time you'll drink your medicine with your own will.

━━━━━━━━━━━━ Chuuya ━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Chuuya came home tired.. seeing your state making him so annoyed.. he just wanted to cuddle with and sleep already and now.. he's not able to.

As he takes note of your fever. Despite that, he still wants to comfort you for a bit, even if he is going to end up getting sick.

“I know… but I can’t let you lie here alone like this.”

He sighs as he pulls you into a hug, knowing very well that there’s likely a chance he might fall ill, too. But he is willing to risk it if you could be made more comfortable, even if it’s just for a bit.

"Chuuya don't be stubborn..." He then let of you pouting as he spoke.. “Damnit, Doll… you made sure to take your medicine right?”

You then looked away, avoiding his gaze.. "Well.. uhm.." Chuuya’s eyes narrow as he raises an eyebrow when you mention you haven’t taken your meds yet. “You didn’t take your medicine..” He looks at you with a disappointed look as he sets you out of his arms and sits up in bed. “Why didn’t you take your medicine..?”

"It taste bad and im going to be fine..!" You said protesting.

“So? You still have to take them…” He grumbles as he stands up and walks to the bathroom, grabbing some medicine and a glass of water from the drawer under the sink. He walks back to you and places the water and medicine on your lips. “Just open wide…”

You covered youself with blanket and moving away from him. "I don't waaannnaaa"

Chuuya scowled at how stubborn you’re being, but he’s already made up his mind and knows he won’t stop until you take them. “I know you don’t want to, but you need to.” He tells you sternly as he holds the tablet to your mouth and waits for you to swallow. “Come on, Doll. You know I’m not kidding around.”

As much as Chuuya had felt a bit exasperated with you, he still couldn’t help but to find you adorable. Your stubbornness was always one of things he adored about you. Even when you pouted and hid away your mouth.

But once he placed the pill on your tongue, he didn’t hesitate on kissing you to get you to swallow it.

Chuuya continued to apply soft kisses on your mouth as he waited for you to swallow the medicine. Once he heard you've finally swallow it, he broke the kiss and pulled back slightly. "Alright... you took it?" He murmured as he looked at you for an answer.

You cough a little and felt embarrassed as you hid yourself with a pillow. “That wasn’t so bad, Doll, you’re fine.” He told you as he gently removed the pillow from your face. He also brought a hand up to brush back your hair, as if it was a natural reflex to do so.

“Just relax, there’s no use in being so embarrassed…” He rubbed the back of your head gently and kissed your forehead to comfort you. “It’s not like I haven’t kissed you before anyways. You don’t need to turn all red for me…” He teases and smugly about.

Well he's right.. but it was unexpected... as you lay your head to his chest and wrapped his arms around you to make you sleep comfortably.

"Rest well, Doll.." He then kissed your cheeks adoring you. The medicine wasn't taste so bad when Chuuya makes you drink it.. you wondered why...

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#bsd x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd fluff #chuuya x reader #fyodor x reader #dazai x reader

[i-think-i-have-too-many-fandoms]

(Dilf!Deku x Nanny!Reader is what I think is what this is)

Description ~ Single dad #1 pro Deku’s daughter wakes up and starts crying for “mama”

“MAMA!” Izuku shoots out of bed at the sound of his daughter screaming. He sprints down the hallway of his large apartment to his daughter’s room. He turns on the light to find his daughter with tear stained cheeks reaching out for him. He sits on the edge of her bed and wrapped her in his arms. “What was it babygirl?” Izuku asks his 5 year old daughter. “Nightmare, about you and mama.” That caught him off guard, his daughter had never really had a “mother” she was dropped on Izukus doorstep with a paternity test saying she was his. “What do you mean baby?” He gives her a confused smile. “Mama? Where is she. I wanna see her too, where is mama?” Izukus daughter looks up at him with big ol puppy dog eyes that would make anyone certain she was his. “Who are you talking about bubs?” “Mama! She’s around all the time! Don’t pretend daddy.” Looking into her confused eyes and that’s when it clicked, she was talking about her nanny.

“Are you talking about Y/n? She’s not your mama, baby.” The little girl in his arms makes an ‘oh’ sound and cuddles deeper into him, he knows she's just to tired to argue and frankly he is too. Instead of risking another nightmare leaving her in her own bed he picks up his little girl and goes back to his bedroom. Izuku finds himself unable to sleep, instead thinking about you. In the last few months you’re all that’s been taking up his headspace. Thinking about how good you are with his daughter, and he wishes he could tell you but he couldn’t do that. It’s bad enough how much it aches him to be away from his daughter as much as he is but he refuses to put a partner through that. So he keeps his thoughts to himself, but will continue letting his daughter think you are her mother. The next day when you came by before he left he had told you that his daughter was in his room, and that she’d had a nightmare and to keep an eye on her during nap time and if anything changes to keep him updated. The usual stuff- except when he was saying goodbye and he grabbed the back of your head and kissed your forehead before heading out the door. You froze in your spot and started overthinking, of course you found him attractive but it was more than just his physical appearance, you’ve seemingly fallen for him because of the way he acts towards everyone that works for him, the way he is always there to kiss his daughter goodnight even if he has to go right back to work after, its the way he is exactly what people think he is but so much more. Now, switch to the other side of the door Pro hero Deku was panicking, when he got home tonight you would probably tell him you quit, or you’ll give him some kind of “HR paperwork”.

He shouldn’t have done it, he knows that but it felt so natural as if he’d done it every morning, like it was routine. But he hadn’t, it wasn't, he’d never done it, he’s thought of doing it. Thought about what he’d do if he would actually married you and got to do that every day- but that wasn’t your guys’ dynamic, your dynamic was that he’d tell you what was new with his kid then leave, and you’d message him interesting stuff that happened throughout the day, and when he’d get home you’d be watching something on tv and he’d sit beside you and tell what happened that day and then you would politely say goodbye to him, but this? This is too- too domestic for you two. But before he can retract and go back inside to explain he gets a message from work telling him there’s an emergency. So he has no choice but to go about his day, expecting a text from you about anything, so that maybe he’ll stop overthinking and panicking but you don’t.

And back at the apartment you were hanging out with his daughter and there has been so many things you’ve wanted to send him but you didn’t want it to be weird. So you went through your day, overthinking just as much as he did because, what was that this morning? Did he mean to do it? Did he think it was someone else and he mixed up because of how tired he was from his daughter waking up in the middle of the night? Oh god… of course, he probably thought it was someone else. You went about your day trying to put your best fake smile on for the darling little girl and at times you’d forgotten but then it come rushing back justas quickly as it had left. At some point Izuku had called a friend who had the day off to go relieve you of your duties for the day, but that only made your despair and overanalyzing worse. You had spent half the night confused and worried and mind wandering, until eventually you gave in, put on the closest pair of pajama pants you could and drove yourself to his apartment. You knocked quietly a few times and while waiting you were questioning what you were doing here but then he opened the door of his apartment and you knew.

You know what to say and why you’re here, “what was that?” You almost cringe at the question. “What?” Oh no, he’s confused, he doesn’t know what you’re talking about this was a mistake. And you abruptly say that you’re sorry for bothering and turning around but he grabs your wrist turning you to him. “I don’t actually know what it was” “So it was a mistake?” Damn, that hurt. “No, definitely not, I- would you like to come inside to talk? It’s cold out.” You follow behind and sit beside him on his couch facing him, knees close to touching. “Believe me, I, very much, like you, and if I was normal, living a normal life I would ask you out on a date in a heartbeat. But I will not do that to you, and I am sorry for what happened yesterday morning, if you choose to continue working for me then I can arrange that we will not be in the same area at the same times-“ “I’m not fired?” You interrupt him, severely confused.

He then looks back at you mirroring your expression, "w- why would you be fired? I'm the one who did it, if anything i thought you'd have smacked me with HR "sexual harrasment' papers when i got back but you didn't." You cut him off again because this whole misunderstanding was starting to make your head hurt, "Why would you be in trouble? You sent me home early, i thought you were firing me." You place your head in your hands. Izuku wants so badly to rub your back in comfort but is understandably apprehensive of making the situation weirder. You pause with your head in your in your hands. 'How could you have just glossed over what he'd said?' You lift your head to look him in his beautiful emerald eyes, "You, like me?" You tilt a eyebrow at him. His face turns a bright shade of red as he answers, "i- w-well not- no- but-" He becomes frantic with his wording and as your looking at him avoiding your eyes you take a chance. You reach for his face and pull it to your own so your faces are inches apart. You leave space for him to close in case youve read the signals wrong. Waiting for what seems like forever (it was a few seconds), Izuku places his hands at your waist and presses his lips to yours. Both of your movements are slow and intimate as you press together fluidly. Before it goes too far you both pull away breathlessly admiring one another. "Izuku...would you like to go on a date?" You speak softly still doubting what had just happened. Hesitating to answer he looks at you earnestly, "I don't want my schedule to hurt the people i love."

"I know, and I'm probably one of the only people who will actually understand enough for this to last with us. I know your schedule and i know you. I know that if anything happens it isn't your fault." You keep eye contact with him as you speak. "If this doesn't work out i would never hold it against you." He scrutinizes your face for any hesitancy, and when he doesn't find any he answers your question, "How's Sunday?"

#mha deku #izuku midoriya #mha fluff #mha x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #izuku x reader

[blarshwritezz]

Yanderr mafia boss x male reader prisoner, You are a rival of the mafia boss and your group was defeated by his group, thus becoming his prisoner.

Little did you know, he had lust for you and he decides that you will succumb to his desires whether you want to or not.

A new mafia boss coming right up! But no more new mafia bosses after this, guys. I know they're hot, but my masterlist will suffer also, changing it to leader to avoid confusion hope that's okay

Yandere Mafia Leader x Prisoner Reader

M yan x M reader

TW - general yandere behavior, NSFW, noncon

How long has it been? For how many days have you been held captive here? You couldn't keep track. There weren't any windows or other ways to tell time in your damp cell.

You had to wonder if your comrades were doing alright. You weren't too close to most of them, but you were still worried. You hoped whatever they were going through wasn't much worse than what you were.

The leader of this mafia kept a constant watch on you. There was a single camera in your cell, which really wasn't strange, but you could often hear him right outside your door. He'd often come in and watch you "sleeping".

That was one of the more difficult things to do here; fall asleep. You really didn't struggle this much usually, but between the environment and the whole being watched thing, it wasn't easy.

You hoped you might finally get some rest tonight. Or...whatever time of day it was when you closed your eyes.

Your dreams almost came true...until they were crushed by the fact that you felt something choking you. You opened your eyes, taking only a few seconds to realize what was happening.

The leader was in here again, fucking your mouth! You tried to pull away, but he only gripped your hair and forced himself deeper down your throat.

He groaned as you gagged around his dick. It was almost enough to make him cum.

Oh who was he kidding? He didn't want to hold back. Not this time. With a few more thrusts, his seed was flowing down your throat.

He took both of your wrists in his hand as he pulled out, holding them tightly above your head. His free hand mover to roughly spread your legs apart.

"You're my new fuck toy, got that?" Without warning or preparation, he plunged into your ass with a pleasured groan. "I'll stop torturing you, long as you please me."

You didn't have a choice.

He was fucking you anyway, no care for how rough he was being. In fact, he seemed to like seeing you slightly in pain.

You couldn't get away, his grip on you was too tight. He smirked as you struggled, even though it was useless.

"Stop struggling so much or I'll just have to kill you, and fucking a corpse doesn't sound nearly as appealing."

He leaned down and started biting your neck, licking the blood clean as he did. He made sure the marks would be visible. You were his, everyone should know.

Despite knowing you shouldn't enjoy this, you couldn't stop the moans you made. You couldn't stop your cock from growing hard, twitching as it came closer to climax.

Finally, he slowed down, making you whine pathetically. "You want to cum? Think you deserve it? You just have to tell me you'll be mine. That your body belongs to me." He growled in your ear.

You couldn't! You refused, shaking your head.

"If you say so." He chuckled, pounding into you harder than before. Only to stop right as you were on the edge again.

And that became a cycle. He fucked you hard and stopped over and over until you were a whimpering mess beneath him. And of course, he couldn't be fair. While he denied you the right to cum over and over, he repeatedly filled your asshole with his seed. Over and over again until your insides were painted fully white.

All until you begged him for release. Saying anything for him to let you cum. Even that you and your body belonged to him.

"There's a good boy..." His hands released your now bruised legs and wrists, one moving to your nipple as the other made its way to your ass. In one swift motion, he pulled out and replaced his cock with his fingers. They curled in you, hitting all the right spots.

As his hands worked wonders on you, he took your cock unto his mouth and sucked you off. Pathetic as it was, it didn't take very long before you came. He moaned, the sound vibrating around your cock as he swallowed your cum.

"There we go. Not so difficult, right? And you get to cum like that whenever I want for the rest of your life~"

I think that one was pretty decent! or at least, I really hope so

#blarsh writes #yandere #yandere x reader #x reader #male yandere #male x reader #anon ask #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere x male darling #x male reader #male reader #male x male #male yandere x you #male yandere x male reader #male yandere x reader #male y/n #yandere mafia boss #mafia boss yandere #mafia yandere #yandere mafia

[oohnotvery]

Edges of the Night (Chapter 10)

Read here on AO3.

Someone’s gone missing in Glacier National Park, Scully tells herself. That’s why the helicopters are out. It’s the only possible explanation.

It couldn’t be—there’s no way—it can’t be that those helicopters are for them. No one’s tracking them anymore. Mulder ditched the ring back in Utah. It flew out of his hands and landed in six feet of snow. Right? Right?

“We can’t stay in this house,” Mulder mutters, dragging her by the shoulders to the front door.

She stumbles in the dark, her brain spinning. “Wait, wait, stop,” she says, laying a hand on his chest. His heart is racing. “Mulder, stop a minute.” She draws in a long breath, trying to collect her thoughts. “Why can’t we stay here? We won’t fare much better if we try to take the car out. They know what vehicle we’re driving. They’ll spot us the minute we get on the roads.”

Even though it’s dark, she can sense the moment Mulder pauses to consider it. For a time, everything goes still and silent. Even the beat of the helicopter blades grows quieter.

And then he starts pacing.

“We’re sitting ducks in this damn house, Scully,” he grumbles angrily. “No weapons, nowhere to run. They’ll find us. It might take a few days, but if they were able to track us to this area, they’re eventually going to figure out we’re in this cabin.”

She swallows hard, nodding in agreement. As he walks by her, he reaches out to squeeze her waist.

“So,” she says after a long minute, “I guess the ring wasn’t tracking us after all.” She rubs subconsciously at her empty ring finger.

Mulder doesn’t respond.

When she contemplates the fact that her engagement ring is gone forever because of Mulder’s mistaken assumptions, she feels a pang of regret. But other thoughts and feelings quickly overshadow the pain of that particular loss. Finding out that Alan was planted in her life; questioning whether his feelings for her were real; wondering what things will look like when she gets back to that life.  

A keen sense of self-pity ripples through her as she recalls her life in California, how she believed she was happy, how she believed in her feelings for Alan. But as usual, being around Mulder has thoroughly disrupted her belief system.

She shakes her head to clear her mind. Now isn’t the time to think about these things.

As the minutes pass by, their tentative decision to stand their ground and hunker down in the house starts to seem less and less appealing. If they don’t run, they’ll almost certainly be found here. But if they do run, there’s a chance they’ll be caught sooner. Right?  

“Can you please stop pacing?” she finally barks. “You’re making me nervous.”

He ignores her and she scowls irritably. He’s a caged lion, a ticking time bomb.

“Do you have any idea how they’ve found us again?” she asks after a few minutes, wringing her hands.

He grumbles a no.

She’s hesitant to even speak again, but she has to give voice to her thoughts. “Do you think—is it possible—” He glances at her through the darkness. “Did someone we know give us away?”

The caged lion goes deathly still.

“Frohike would die before doing that,” he breathes with conviction, and he sounds so sure of it, she nods too.

“Skinner?” she whispers hesitantly, hating herself even for the suggestion. But her logical mind demands she consider all the possibilities—no matter how unlikely.

“I don’t—” he sighs, his shoulders crumpling. “I don’t think he would give us up either.”

She purses her lips and nods. There’s a dark, chilling thought niggling at the back of her mind. It’s been there on and off during this entire escapade of theirs, but she’s vehemently refused to consider it, has continually denied it access to her conscious mind. Because if she takes it out and examines it, the results will feel devastating. Horrific. Life-altering.

With the distant beat of helicopter blades nearby, though, she really has no other choice but to face the unthinkable. She licks her lips unsteadily.

“Mulder,” she murmurs, and she feels his body turn to face hers. He must be able to hear the panic in her voice because he takes two steps into her, his hands falling to her waist. She tips her forehead to his chest and his hands travel up her spine to cup the back of her neck. She huffs a painful laugh. It’s like he already knows what she’s going to say. “Mulder, the chip . . . the chip in my neck.”

He swipes a tender finger across the raised bump above her spine. “It’s not that,” he says decidedly, and she instantly knows he’s already considered it too.

She scoffs, pulling away. “And how do you know that? They found us without the ring. Clearly it wasn’t that, so this is the next most logical explanation we have.”

He shakes his head vehemently. “It’s not your chip, Scully. It can’t be—”

“But what if it is?” she exclaims, pushing against his chest. “Mulder, we could be running forever and they’d still always find us!” She sucks in a lungful of air. “We need—we need to split up. You need to get away from me. If they catch me, so—so what? They’ll dangle me as bait for you, they wouldn’t hurt me as long as you’re still running—”

He grabs her wrists so hard she flinches. “No,” he growls. “That’s not happening. I’m not leaving you.”

“Then we cut the chip out of me,” she says confidently.

His hands dig more painfully into her skin and she cries out. “Mulder—”

He releases her with an apology on his tongue, crushing her head to his chest. “That is not an option, Scully. We’re not even sure if they’re using the chip to track us. Get that out of your mind, because I’m sure as hell not removing that chip from you. It saved your life.” She grabs at his shirt, bunching it up in her fists. “We can fight this, Scully. We can—we can keep running. We just have to stay one step ahead of them.”

She huffs exasperatedly. “We can’t run forever, Mulder. It’s only been a few days and we’re already—we’re exhausted, emotionally wrecked. We—this running—this isn’t a life. It’s barely even survival.”

“Bullshit,” he says, and she glances up from his chest. His eyes blaze with conviction through the darkness. “I’ve learned a lot these past nine months. Most importantly, that what I’ve been living isn’t a life. Not without you. It’s only a life if I get to spend it with you, Scully.”

Her mouth falls open, but before she can respond, he’s dipping his head down to press his lips to hers. She moans into his mouth and pushes her hands beneath his shirt. All her earlier uncertainty slips away. With time pressing in on them at every angle, she’s realizing that this may be her last chance to experience anything good. Forget Alan, forget fidelity, forget her life back in California. Those don’t exist, not in this space, not when there’s helicopters hunting them down and a chip in her neck and Mulder’s desperate confessions whispered against her lips.

He peels off her shirt and she yanks his off too, stretching on tiptoes to reach above his head. Her hands tremble as they touch smooth skin and firm muscle, and she wishes they could turn the lights on so she could look and feast.

His hands don’t hesitate to roam to her pants, releasing the zipper and shoving them down her legs. She shivers in the cold air and he draws her in, slipping his hands over her ass to pull her close. And then he’s hooking his hands under her thighs and lifting her off the ground, and she scrambles to link her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist.

He tilts his mouth to trail down her jaw and neck as he stumbles in the dark to find the couch. She laughs in surprise when they tumble onto the cushions together, her hands flying out to brace herself against his chest. In his lap, she lifts her hips and fumbles inelegantly at his jeans, breathless when he finally swats her hands away and does it himself. They shimmy his pants off together and then she’s sitting half-naked on his boxers, which leave no room for imagination. She can feel everything, and it’s delicious. She wraps her arms around his neck and grinds down into him, enjoying the way his head falls back against the couch at her movements.

She’s about to drag his head back up for another kiss when she feels it.

Right there, along the top of his spine.

A rough line of raised skin. It’s thin and small. Very small. Blink-and-you’ll-miss-it-small.

Small, thin, raised . . .

It’s a scar.

For the second time today, she freezes in his lap. And for the second time today, Mulder begs her not to stop.

“Please,” he whispers, and it’s so desperate that she can almost convince herself to keep going. Just put it out of your mind until you’ve done this one thing, she thinks. Just wait a little bit longer to unravel the true horrors of tonight. Let yourself enjoy him for just these next few moments.

“Mulder, stop,” her higher logic demands, and it’s authoritative enough that he immediately retracts his hands from her thighs.

“You okay?” he asks nervously, running his fingertips across her biceps. She still has her arms around his neck.

His featherlight touches distract her momentarily, and she again convinces herself that she could just keep going right now. With unwavering self-control, she drags her focus back to the more pressing issue.

“There’s something in your neck,” she says, and he too goes still.

“What?” he whispers incredulously. Slowly, his hand rises to meet hers, which is poking and prodding the top of his spine. Gently, she guides his finger over the place where she feels it, the very slight, very unremarkable protrusion right under his skin. An incision scar, just like hers.

He flies off the couch, sending her lurching to her feet. He grabs her hand and drags her towards the bathroom, where he shuts the door, turns on the lamp, and stuffs a towel in the door crack to block out the light.

They blink at each other for a long second, two sets of eyes dragging lustfully across half-naked bodies. God, he looks gorgeous. Tousled, muscular, clearly aroused.

They snap out of it and she motions for him to turn around. He stoops low and she stretches to her toes, fingers quickly finding the place on his neck.

Sure enough, there it is. A very small incision, just like hers.

“Oh my god,” she breathes, her hands falling away.

He turns around slowly, eyeing her meaningfully. “You’ve got to cut it out of me.”

She starts to nod, because that is the next logical step. Take out the tracker in his neck, then flee.

“Scully?” he says urgently, motioning for her to leave the room, probably to get her medical bag.

She shakes her head. “No, Mulder.”

His eyes widen. “What do you mean no? This is obviously what’s been tracking us this whole time—”

She holds up a hand to interrupt him. “Would you let me take it out of my neck?”

He scoffs. “Are you kidding? If it was just a—a tracking device? Of course I would. It’s tracking us, for Christ’s sake—”

“How do you know removing it won’t kill you? How do we know what it really is?” she says softly. “How do we know it’s not like mine?”

His expression falters. “It’s just a tracking device,” he repeats, but he sounds less sure of himself.

She shrugs. “We don’t know that. For all we know, it could—it could release some toxin into your body the moment you remove it. It could—it could be a slower-acting agent, like cancer, like what I was given—”

“We’re taking it out,” he says decisively, pushing past her to shove open the door.

Apparently, all thoughts of keeping the place dark have gone out the window. He rushes to the bedroom and grabs her medical kit, yanking it open and rifling through it until he produces a sharp tool. It’s the wrong one for this job, but she doesn’t bother correcting him.

He turns on her with a madman’s eyes. “You’re taking it out of me, Scully.”

“Let’s just think—”

“Stop,” he yells, thrusting the tool into her hands.

Her hand trembles in a way she’s not used to while holding surgical instruments, and she can see the conviction in his eyes.

“You’re taking that goddamn chip out of me or so help me God, Scully, I’ll—” he pauses, unable to continue his toothless threat.

She almost laughs at the absurdity of it. “It might kill you,” she argues quietly.

He reaches forward and squeezes her shoulders, his eyes burning into hers. “If that thing doesn’t kill me, they will, someway or somehow. Either way, I very well may die. But there’s another possibility, Scully, don’t you see?” His eyes crease wistfully. “There’s a chance it’s just a stupid tracking device, nothing more. And that gives us the chance to run, to get away from here.”

“But where do we go? The car—”  

He shrugs. “Into the woods. Get lost in that national park.”

“But the bears,” she protests weakly.

He laughs and she sees hope rising in his gaze. This is really it, she realizes. This truly is their biggest chance for survival.

“I can’t lose you,” she whispers, not stopping to marvel at how quickly he’s once again become the only person she can’t live without.

He grimaces. “Take out the fucking chip, Scully.”

**

Mulder doesn’t burst into flames or ooze green jelly or die from a fast-releasing toxin. In fact, the chip removal is relatively unremarkable. He flinches at the initial cut and Scully hides her nerves by teasing him about his pain intolerance. And then she removes the little fucker from his neck.

“How long do you think you’ve had this in?” she asks as she cleans the wound.

He grits his teeth. “I was conscious the whole time I was in San Diego, even after they found me at the airport,” he muses. “So it must have been before that. I would have known they put something in me, right?”

She nods. “This incision is well-healed. I’d say it’s been months at least.”

He turns to face her and she tosses a cotton pad into the trash. His eyebrows crease. “At the hospital, then. When I was in the psych ward.”

She swallows, dropping his gaze. “They must have known, then,” she says.

He hums a question.

“They must have known that they wanted to continue using you. Destroying the files was never enough, not even from the very beginning. What they’ve always wanted—”

“Was me,” he interrupts, smoothing his hand across her waist. Her lips part at the warmth of his palm against her bare skin. He squeezes her hipbone and briefly, she remembers what they were about to do right before she discovered the tracker. She shivers. “They always planned for me to die in disgrace. So they stuck a chip in my neck in case I ever did anything they didn’t like, like follow you to San Diego, or run away with you to Utah. That way, they could always drag me back and bend me to their will.”

“And me?” she asks, cupping his elbow and drawing him closer. “Just a pawn to get you to cooperate?”

His eyes darken. “I’ve said it before. You’re my Achilles heel, Scully. Everyone knows it.”

She bites her lip, flushing. “Do you think they were ever really planning to ship me off to run more experiments? Or was that all bluff?”

He eyes her carefully but doesn’t answer.

“I haven’t forgotten, Mulder,” she says meaningfully. “You still owe me the contents of that letter.”

His eyes close briefly, and then he steps forward to press a kiss to her forehead. “Later,” he promises.

After dressing, they gather their modest supplies in a bag and then start arguing about the car. Mulder insists they risk driving; Scully fears it will be the death of them.

In the end, Mulder wins again, convincing her that if they don’t take the car, they’ll just inevitably end up lost, starving, and exposed to the elements smack-dab in the middle of grizzly territory. It’s the threat of bears that eventually convinces her.

It takes Mulder five tries before he manages to get the car up the hill without headlights on. The vehicle bump-bump-bumps over terrain it was never meant to climb and Scully clings to the dashboard with a dizzying lack of optimism.

Once they reach the road, though, they both heave a sigh of relief. They’ve agreed to avoid driving into the park—it will be manned by park rangers, who may or may not be keeping watch for two FBI agents on the run. Instead, they head west towards another set of mountains, the plan being to bunker down in northern Washington’s remote Cascade Range until they’ve determined whether they’re still being tracked. They still haven’t worked out a plan for getting basic supplies or accommodations; by now, their faces are probably plastered over every news outlet in every town. They can’t just walk right into a gas station or motel.

On the road, they are completely silent as they fly through dense forest, headlights still off. The driving is treacherous—a mixture of snow and ice still covers the roads and without light for guidance, Mulder is barely keeping them on the asphalt. Scully keeps looking in the rearview, waiting for the inevitable moment when a car flies up behind them, or a helicopter drops out of the sky. But nothing happens. Eventually, they pass a sign for a national forest and without hesitation, they pull off the main road to head deeper into the wilderness. It is nearing dawn when they decide to stop and hunker down in a vacant campground.

Mulder mumbles something about needing to get gas and Scully shoves that concern to the back of her brain. They’ll worry about filling the car later. Right now, they need rest.

She climbs into the back while Mulder reclines his seat as far as it’ll go. They make eye contact as the sun starts to rise, flooding their car with light.

He reaches back to take her hand and she loops her fingers loosely with his.

“If anything happens,” he tells her solemnly, “you run. Leave me. Get as far away from me as you can.”

She frowns. “Not gonna happen, Mulder.”

He cracks a wistful smile, squeezes her fingers, and leans back in his seat. She shuts her eyes, listens for the sound of helicopters. But the forest is silent, save for the singsong of birds and the hum of insects.

She sleeps.

**

Scully wakes with an unbelievable urge to pee. Groggy, disoriented, and crick-necked, she rises from the backseat. Mulder is sleeping peacefully, his arms crossed over his chest. She smiles fondly. He looks for all the world like the version of Mulder who spent every night falling asleep on his couch in front of the T.V. She resists the urge to reach over and push his hair off his forehead.

Instead, as quietly as she can, she opens the car door and sneaks outside, silently cursing the fierce chill in the air. She hunkers down behind a tree to relieve herself, eyes scanning the quiet morning for signs of trouble.

Sensing nothing out of the ordinary, she rises to her feet. Ten feet away, she sees Mulder stirring in the front seat. He glances in the backseat and startles at her absence, then flings open the door.

“Mulder!” she calls quietly, and his eyes race to find hers across the forest. She smiles as relief crosses his face.

Sunlight warms her skin and she is suddenly filled with an incredible sense of optimism. The tracking device is gone. They escaped the cabin without notice. They seem to have reconciled, mostly.

And perhaps most thrillingly, Mulder wants to get her naked.

She takes a step towards him.

There’s a pop, a distant echo.

Something strikes her shoulder so hard she falls backward, the breath forced from her lungs.

She opens her mouth to call for Mulder’s help, but the pain hits her. Fire—raging, burning, roaring fire—races down her body and she screams in agony.

She hears Mulder shout, distantly notices the sound of footsteps approaching, but all she really knows is extreme, acute, blinding pain.

Against her will, her eyes flutter closed, and she realizes she’s losing consciousness. Her screams turn weak, then faint, and then she can barely open her mouth at all.

Someone’s hands reach roughly under her armpits and she is momentarily comforted by the thought that Mulder is saving her. He knows how to treat gunshot wounds. This is a gunshot wound, right?

Wait—why the hell was she shot?

As she’s lifted to her feet, her eyes blink slowly open, and in that brief moment, she realizes that the arms around her don’t belong to Mulder.  

Because he is writhing on the ground in front of her, two men wrestling to keep him pinned to the earth. His eyes are glued frantically to hers and she realizes, even through the agony, that this is it. They’ve been caught.

A sob escapes her throat and the person holding her tosses her violently over his shoulder. She cries weakly at the renewed pain, her eyes tearing away from Mulder’s.

She strains to hear his shouts, but her hearing is starting to fade. Her vision goes in and out. Her attacker jostles her on his shoulder and another wave of pain jolts down her body.

She faints.

#mulder x scully #the x files #dana scully #x files fanfic #msr fanfic #x files #fox mulder #msr #txf #xfiles fanfic

[jsprnt]

you’re pretty upset when you spot your husband not wearing his ring in a recent video

andrew robertson x reader

A/N: a tricky one, but I think I made it work ;) thank you for requesting!

W/C: 1.427

a wedding ring

to some, it’s a tangible object that is meant to symbolize the unification of two people. to others, a ring wasn't that much of importance, even paper rings would suffice to signify the love two individuals have for each other.

you were part of the first group. you had never even dreamed of taking the rock off your finger. the only exception being when you needed to get your hands dirty when cooking up some delicious food.

of course, the glimmering diamond on your ring finger was absolutely breathtaking. carefully chosen by your husband. suited exactly to your personal style and taste.

it was something you also tried to do for him. you didn't want to gift him a boring, silver wedding band, bland and basic. so, you'd visited multiple different jewelers until you found the right one.

then, imagine how pissed off you are when you're scrolling on your phone, only to see a video of your husband not wearing his ring during a recent press conference concerning his upcoming match.

you glance down at your own wedding ring, getting more and more irritated by the second.

your husband wasn't even home from training yet, which allowed your anger to boil up ever more, because you couldn’t ask him about it immediately.

you finally turn your phone off, grumbling to yourself, and get up to do some last minute work around the house. it was your turn to make dinner tonight. safe to say those vegetables were chopped too finely due to the fury you couldn’t contain.

andrew usually came home right on time for dinner. so, you decide to eat dinner early, just to interact less with him.

you were being petty, but you felt like him not wearing his wedding ring shouldn't go unpunished.

the front door opens half an hour later, your husband calling out to you from the entrance.

you ignore him, too focused on washing the dishes you used, to answer him, knowing it would become a childish argument.

"sweetheart? are you home?" he calls out, the confusion in his voice audible. you can hear him zip his jacket off, and the jingling of his keys, which he hangs up on the little sculpture you bought to spruce up the entrance.

again, you refuse to answer. drying the washed dishes with the gray kitchen towel and placing them back in the cupboard.

"bonnie?"

you try to ignore the sweet scottish nickname he loved using, too focused on cleaning up.

you can hear some footsteps come closer, his shoes paddling against the gray floorboards.

you decide to turn around when you can feel how close he is. watching his arm reach over to bring you into a tight embrace. though, you move right on time to avoid his touch. escaping from underneath his arms.

he gasps, brows furrowing at your sudden behavior. you were fine this morning, happy as ever, only a little sad about him leaving so early for training.

so, why would you be avoiding his hugs, let alone his touch?

"love, what's wrong?" he asks, trying to analyze your facial expression.

"nothing.." you mumble, avoiding eye contact. your arms folded defensively.

"do you want a hug?" he asks, wondering if you need comfort. he inches closer, but you decide that to be petty - so you shake your head.

"that involves physical contact, and that's gross, so no." you deadpan, words harsh and stubborn.

‘gross?’ he thinks, frowning at your choice of words.

"eat dinner, table's set.." you add, voice quiet.

you immediately turn away, sulking when you catch glimpse of your ring again.

you can hear him call out to you, but you keep on walking up the stairs and step into your bedroom. maybe the comfort of the soft pillows and firm mattress will help instead.

"love, can you please tell me what's wrong?" he pleads, hand stopping you from closing the door.

you gnaw on your bottom lip, sighing while looking at him.

"just give me a moment.." you state, his eyes warm up, realizing you probably wanted a minute to yourself to sort your thoughts out.

"okay, I'll have dinner then..I’m going to come back later..." his voice is soft, just like how he speaks to you when you're crying over something or are feeling particularly down on dark, cloudy days.

guilt immediately creeps up on you. maybe you were being too petty and rude?

no, you always wear your ring- why wouldn't he?

you close the door in his face, shuffling to your bed and pulling the covers over your body.

all different types of thoughts go through your head. were you too dramatic, or were you rightfully upset? was this approach even a good one?

it doesn't take too much time, as you hear a knock on your bedroom door. you shift and turn, sitting up in bed.

"come in.." you mumble, fidgeting with your fingers.

andy steps inside slowly, his eyebrows raising at the sight of your defeated-looking figure.

"bonnie.." he begins, getting into the bed next to you.

"we're literally married. if you're angry at me, just tell me.." he says, hand reaching to carefully touch your hand. eyes on your face to detect any irritation or sadness on your face.

you look up at him when he grips your hand, his bigger hands entangled with yours. your eyes flicker around, finally making eye contact with him.

he can practically read all of the emotions you hold in your eyes after all these years together.

"won't you tell me, sweetheart? are you angry?"

he encourages, thumb running over your knuckles.

"yes, I’m angry- is that what you want to know?"

"about what?"

you sigh, a little embarrassed now.

"you love me, right?"

you notice the confusion and surprise on your husband's face, he starts nodding the moment the question leaves your mouth.

"of course, I love you.. with every part of my being.." he whispers, leaning in closer.

"then why did I see a video of you not wearing your ring?" you confront, facial expression hardening. 

"what are you talking about?"

you grab your phone off the nightstand, showing him the evidence that had you spiraling for the past hour or two.

"bonnie.." he begins, a chuckle leaving his lips.

you almost lash out at him when he laughs. was your sadness funny to him?

"come 'ere.." he urges, patting his lap. you eye him for a moment, but don’t fight back when he pulls you onto his lap.

"listen to me, ye?"

you nod, waiting to hear his explanation.

"remember when we talked about our wedding rings last month?"

you nod, tilting your head in confusion.

"and don't you remember me telling you I had to get mine cleaned?" he asks, thumb making soft and soothing circles on your knee.

you freeze, heat from embarrassment creeping up on your face. you groan, covering your face with your hands, moving your head away.

"hey, look at me, ye?" he says, trying to pry your hands away from your face.

"there's my love's precious face.." he coos, grinning softly at your cute behavior.

he raises his hand, showing off the wedding band that is clearly on his finger.

"you know, I wear it all the time except for training and during matches. if I was allowed to wear it I would..” he reminds you, leaning in to kiss your forehead tenderly.

"I wear mine constantly, just like you do. it's as important to me, as it is to you. you got that?" he asks, running his hand down your back.

you hum, feeling silly and stupid for fretting over something so easily explained away.

"I'm sorry, kind of stupid of me to assume.." you trail off, looking into his brown eyes.

"it's alright, I understand the confusion, but please just ask me about something that’s bothering you, before you start to ignore me?"

you nod, pressing your cheek against his chest.

"I will, I'll ask you before assuming.."

he chuckles, pressing a kiss on your head. the sound makes his chest rumble, in turn, you feel the vibrations on your cheek.

your husband would do anything to please his partner. so, don't you be surprised the next time he comes home with a tattoo on his ring finger.

yes, the needle pressing against the bone of his knuckle hurt like a bitch. but, if it meant he could ease your mind and wear a symbol of his love for you 24/7. he would do it without hesitation.

#andrew robertson #liverpoolfc #football fanfic #football imagines #football #footballer x reader #liverpool fanfic #liverpoolimagines #andrew robertson fanfiction #Robbo #liverpoolfc blurb #liverpool fc #andy robertson #robertson #andrew robertson imagine

[kakuchari]

HELLO ARIIII🤭 could i maybe have first times with kakucho? it doesnt have to be virginity loss, it can be just your first time together but i leave the choice to you🫶 maybe have him a bit on the more vulnerable side/insecure side at first?

-> you’re new to this, aren’t you? | 2,001 words. afab!reader, vulnerable!kakucho, slight angst/hurt + comfort vibes, cunnilingus (reader!receiving), fingering (reader!receiving), reader teaches kakucho how to eat (their) pussy basically, reader calls kakucho "baby, kakucho calls reader "pretty baby", haitani slander bc i can never leave ran and rindou alone ever lmfao

a/n: snow u know i love a good vulnerable big man concept <3 i hope i did this well for u!! i know i like to write kakucho as being experienced but having you be his first real relationship and wanting to teach him is so sexy of him :( god i wanna suck the skin off him jfc

“You’re new to this, aren’t you?”

You feel Kakucho’s breath still in his chest, his hands freezing on your skin. His eyes are wide, pupils blown, but his white teeth flash as he gnaws at his bottom lip. He doesn’t have to say it, but you can sense what he means. I am new to this. Nobody’s ever wanted me like this before.

It stings in your chest, the realization, and you reach up to cup his cheeks, brushing your thumb across the scar winding along the side of his face. He flinches, but you don’t stop.

“Hey. Talk to me.”

His breath is ragged when he finally sucks oxygen in, and he looks at you pointedly, hands firm on your chest, grasping your breasts tightly as if they’ll keep him from floating away. As if they’ll keep him grounded with whatever he’s about to say.

“S-Sorry, I—”

“Don’t apologize, Kaku. It’s okay, baby.”

Another ragged breath. “Thank you. I-I am new to this, just…I’ve done things before but not with someone who- someone who loves me like you love me and I’m…I’m scared of fucking up.”

His voice grows smaller and quieter as he continues on with his confession, and he moves away from you, attempting to cover his face with his hands, leaving you cold from the sudden loss of body heat. You follow him, though, connected to him like a magnet as you grasp his hands, moving them away from his face. There’s a rage within you, aggressively boiling up as his words sink in.

You and Kakucho were relatively new to the whole sex thing. YOu’d had plenty of partners before, and Kakucho had not; there wasn’t exactly a lot of time to get down and dirty when you’re in a gang; although the Haitanis seemed to disprove that statement, but then again, it’s also the Haitanis.

You’d suggested it today, when you were feeling a little frisky, and he’d approached you gently, removing your shirt and bra expertly, but in actually doing anything beyond kissing, he seemed to fumble and be very insecure about his movements. It almost felt like someone had scolded him into telling him he didn’t do anything right; which wasn’t true, he did know what he was doing on a basic level, but he just needed some fine-tuning.

It makes you angry to know there was someone, or multiple someones, who used the man sitting before you; not teaching him how to pleasure someone properly, or not caring about him enough to bother. Or, even worse, not being intimate with him in a way where he had a chance to gain experience in the first place. The man who’d do anything for you, who makes you dinner on a rough day, who covers the chores when all you want to do is rot in bed all day, who is always there to dry your tears and hold you.

You’d do the same for him, of course. That’s what you’re doing now as you drag him into your embrace, pressing his face into your chest. He takes a deep breath again, and you feel something wet against your skin. You can tell he’s crying; you coo at him, running your nails along his buzz cut, pressing kisses against his temple and scalp and anywhere you can reach as you lay back down, refusing to let him go and run off and isolate himself.

“It’s okay, I promise it’s okay,” you repeat over and over, like a mantra in his ear as he silently cries, tears dripping onto your bare chest and sliding down your sternum.

“A-Are you sure?”

You stiffen, digging your nails into his scalp. “Yes. Why would I have said that if I didn’t mean it?”

“Well, other people have—”

You push his head up, cupping his face again so he can look directly at you again. Your eyebrows are furrowed, that anger still bubbling underneath your skin as you stare into him, the glassy red-and-white stare of the man you love so much the only thing stopping you from not leaving right now and finding the addresses of all the people who have slighted him.

He didn’t deserve that, as much as he thinks he does.

“You didn’t deserve that, Kakucho.”

At the mention of his full name, he flinches again, but it’s not out of fear. It’s out of surprise, like he’s shocked you care this much about him, but he nods. He clearly expects you to stop, but your hands are firm against his face as you keep going.

“You didn’t deserve that at all. I love you, okay?” you say, your voice rising slightly in volume, firm and rock solid, giving him something he can cling onto, “I love you so much, and I want this with you, and I want to help you. I want to teach you. I want you, all of you, and I don’t care if you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing. I’m happy to show you how to do all this, I promise. It’s never a problem.”

You can see another wave of tears rising in his eyes as you speak to him, your words weaving themselves into his brain, imprinting on it. It’ll take him a lot longer to gain that confidence back, of course, but this is a start. The tears are no longer saddening tears; they’re happy, relieved as he pulls you into a tight hug, holding onto you like you’ll slip away.

“God, I love you so much,” he whispers shakily into your ear, and you can’t help but giggle at him, rubbing his bare back with your fingers. “Of course, Kaku,” you whisper back, “of course.”

Then, you drag your nails across his back instead, and he lets out a full-body shudder and a growl into your ear. “Fuck, do that again,” he says, his voice low, and as you do, he makes another groaning noise and pushes you back onto the bed, wiping away his tears.

“Fuck, okay, fuck, you’re perfect.”

He breathes it like a prayer as he dives back onto your chest, swirling a nipple around in his mouth, but not exactly correct. It’s a little sloppy, not the level you need him at, and you tap him on the head. He looks up at you through his eyelashes, and you have to collect yourself so you don’t just babble nonsense to him.

“Swirl it like you’re licking a lollipop.”

He swirls his tongue just as you say, and your hips jerk into his own, the motion just right.

Perfect, even.

“God, you pick up on things quickly, huh?” you tease as he moves to the other nipple, your sentence cutting off in a moan as he does the same to the other nipple. You can feel his lips moving into a smirk against you as he breathes against the hardened nipple, gently sucking on it.

“What can I say? I learn fast.”

He makes his way down, his thumbs hooking into your pants and underwear as he pulls them off in one go, and his hot breath against your dripping center has you whining for him, your hips twitching at the feeling of his tongue against you. You need it, you need it so badly—

His tongue takes one long, slow lick from your hole to your clit, flicking against the nub, but it’s not quite where you want it to be. You let him do it again, before you grip his head and tap him, causing him to look up at you in question. His cheeks are bright red with blush, like a puppy. If he’d had a tail, you’d imagine it’d be wagging while he waits for you.

You take a deep breath. “Stick your tongue out.”

He complies, and you push his head against you, allowing the wet tip of his tongue to traverse your lips and crevices, until they land on the one spot that makes you see stars. You jerk up into his mouth when his tongue skirts across it, and it’s like you’re beaming the message into his brain, because he doubles down on that specific spot, swirling across it like he did with your nipples.

Holy shit.

“Do it in a figure eight,” you stammer out, using your finger to draw a figure eight in the air. He blinks at you, before nodding and trying it, and fuck, you could’ve cum right there watching him comply so innocently with your commands. Seeing him so pliant beneath you, learning what gets you off, was such a hot circumstance to be in that the room felt like it’d been raised a few degrees. The coil in your stomach is hot, tight and warm, and—

Suddenly, he stops, and he moves away to look up at you.

“Am I good?”

You stare at him incredulously. “What?”

He repeats the question, his hands gripping the fat of your hips so tightly that it might bruise.

It felt good.

You blink at him. “I—yes, but—”

He smirks at you, although the embarrassment is still strong in his eyes as he dives back into you. “Jus’ wanna make you feel good, baby,” he mumbles against you as he takes up his movements again in a faster motion, and you let out a loud moan, nodding. “You’re so good, Kaku, so good for me—”

He murmurs against you. “Can I…can I finger you?”

You laugh at the innocence of the statement, before nodding aggressively as his tongue flicks against you again. “Yes, God, yes,” you breathe, and one of his thick fingers slides in only a beat later. It’s getting more difficult to concentrate on teaching him how to do this, mainly because he is taking to how to pleasure you like a fish to water. It’s insane how fast he’s learning the spots that make you squirm; he’s perceptive, you knew that already, but this is another level. It’s like he’s turned all of his senses up to eleven to detect even the slightest discomfort.

“Up a little bit.”

“There?”

“To the side.”

“How about there?”

“Can you curl your—oh, shit—”

Not only does he add another finger, but he curls his fingers against that spongey spot inside of you and that does it. “Fuck, Kaku, ‘m gonna—”

“You’re gonna cum for me, pretty baby?”

“Fuck!”

At the pet name, the dam bursts, and you cream all over his fingers, shaking and sputtering against him. His mouth is on you in a second, licking and sucking up all of your wetness that dribbles out of you. He doesn’t stop, unknowingly about to fuck you into overstimulation as you cry out, twitching against him as he curls and scissors his fingers inside of you. It’s hitting all the sensitive areas inside of you, and by the time you finally come down and his fingers slide out, his chin is wet with your essence, looking up at you with a reddened face.

“Did I do good?” he whispers, and you pull him up, your gaze softened with the post-climax daze. You pull him close, tucking him underneath your chin, and sighing.

“Yeah, you did good. Great. High marks across the board.”

His chest rumbles with a laugh as he moves to tuck you into his own chest, letting you melt against him, his large hands skating across your back. “Thank you,” he breathes, and you look up at him with a smile, before pressing a kiss to his lips. “Of course, baby,” you respond, and his face gets even more red, bashfulness flooding his eyes.

“Can I ask you something?”

You cock your head. “Yeah?”

He looks away from you, as if weighing the consequences of his request he’s about to ask. When he does, heat floods down to your core, turning you on again so fast that you see stars.

“Can I…do that again?”

You giggle against him.

“Of course. Call it an assessment of your skills you’ve learned so far.”

divider credit: @/benkeibear

networks: @thehoneypotserver @enchantedforest-network

disclaimer: DO NOT copy or repost my works for any reason. translations are acceptable, but please ask for permission first!

© kakuchari 2023-2024

#📩 ari's got mail! #suyacho #📝 ari's autographs #kakucho x reader #kakucho hitto x reader #hitto kakucho x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #kakucho #tr #spicy #this was so much fun to write LOLOLOLOL i love him i want to give him a cozy blanket and a cup of warm lemon tea :(

[mariamlovesyou]

tuned into Plestia's live with Rahma Zein's second account (she got shadowbanned). key moments:

plestia talked about her adjustment to living in australia. "it's 1:30am now and it's normal for me and many palestinians who live abroad to be awake hours into the morning. i am scared of sleeping. because of the time difference, i'm scared if i sleep i will wake up to bad news. in gaza i was scared of the sound of the bombs, here i am scared of the quiet."

contacting family and friends in gaza is near impossible. "sometimes i feel like a crazy person, calling 20 times in a row hoping that on the 21st time the call might go through."

on the destruction of entire communities and neighbourhoods: "i'm scared when i go back to gaza i won't recognise it anymore. someone sent me a picture of my neighbourhood, and i couldn't tell it was mine at first. all my favourite places, cafes where the aunties used to give me extra food and ask about my day, have been destroyed. i dread looking at my gallery or seeing snapchat memories because most of these people in the pictures are no longer alive."

rahma asked plestia to talk about one story that stuck with her. plestia said "i remember walking one time on the 'safe corridor', that's what they called it anyway, and i saw an older woman clutching onto a donkey cart where her son's body was, refusing to let go of it. i asked my colleague what the smell was, he said it's dead bodies under the rubble. it was the first time i familiarised myself with the smell. the son's body was decaying and the woman told me about cats and animals eating away at it. i've had children talk to me about birds eating away at their parents' decomposing bodies and not being able to chase them away."

"it seems so silly to go to hospitals for minor sicknesses now. i can't even think about how many palestinian children are going to be terrified of hospitals now. there was a girl who was taken to the hospital to get treatment for injuries by one of the bombs, and while she was in the bathroom another bomb landed nearby. the impact from that sent the ceiling crashing down on her.. she got another injury while getting treated for her first one."

"i hate how people talk about our resilience - as if it's okay that this is happening to us. we are only surviving because we have to, because we have no other choice."

rahma brought up the way family homes are set up in palestine and asked plestia to elaborate. "basically, there are floors. someone will live on the ground floor, and then their married son lives with his children on the floor above them, and then their successors above them and so on. so when family homes are targeted, they wipe out entire families. many families officially no longer exist."

"i used to wear my journalist helmet and vest all the time, felt naked without it, even slept with the vest on sometimes until i realised it only made me more of a target. they didn't give me any protection, only headaches and back pain."

"i am an optimistic person, i loved covering sweet sentimental things, like at my graduation asking parents of top graduates how they feel about their children graduating. that's what i love reporting on. i wanted to cover things like that when i came back to gaza, show the beautiful side of gaza that the media didn't really show, but i didn't have the chance." "do you think they'll give you right of return?" "i can only hope."

plestia mentioned how hard it was being a journalist with limited access to the internet, charging facilities, no mics, lack of equipment and how difficult it was uploading things. rahma asked her what's one story that wasn't really recorded or posted due to these constraints; plestia said "the evacuations. sometimes they informed us about them, sometimes they didn't. you have no idea how hard it was, everyone looking for their family members, making sure every one was there, taking to the streets in 5 minutes and not knowing which way to go. i remember i went to my friend's house for shelter for 30 minutes before the first evacuation was announced and we ran to another family's house, stayed there for 2 days before another evacuation was announced. me, my friend, and that family all evacuated together to another family's house. there were already so many people there seeking shelter, it wasn't just one family staying there. none of us knew how long we had in any place."

before october 7th, palestinians were used to limitations on electricity. plestia used to plan her day's tasks around when the electricity was working. "for example when the electricity was on from 12 to 4, i would say i will do my laundry and charge the phones during this time. life wasn't exactly 'normal', but all of us pray to have those days back in comparison to what we are experiencing now." plestia also said that cars are running on cooking oil now because there is no fuel.

on hygiene: "many pregnant women have to give birth without any pain medication or medical attention. once we ran out of medicine, that was it. women who had to get C-sections couldn't stay to recover or get followup treatments because someone else needed the bed. we have no water, no tissues, no pads, barely any bathrooms. in the shelter schools you have to wait an hour before even getting to use the bathroom because of how many people are there."

"something you don't hear about is how many people die because of sadness. there's so many ways to die in gaza, because of the bombardment, because of starvation, the lack of resources, but i also know many elderly people who died because their hearts couldn't take it anymore. i have been in gaza before and lived through 4 aggressions, but nothing compared to this one."

a recurring sentiment that was echoed in the video: "sometimes i thought to myself: who am i recording this for? because we've already shown everything, we've already talked about everything. everything has already been said, the proof is everywhere, nothing i talked about today is new." rahma said the first video posted about what's happening in palestine should've been enough.

she is 22 today. plestia's closing words: don't stop talking about us, don't stop boycotting, don't stop protesting, please don't get bored of fighting for palestine.

#this is all off the top of my head if i remember other key points i will add them

[gremlingottoosilly]

Married!reader who's husband's abandoned them and skipped town after borrowing money from Mafia!König

You thought your husband’s love for you was more than his love for money - and you were deadly wrong. Poor, abandoned little thing you are - Konig almost feels pity for you, with the way you were still clinging to her hope that he will come back for you and together, you’ll go about your merry way…of course, life sucks and it’s not what is happening here. Of course, your loser of a husband never knew that the biggest asset he could ever introduce to then debt collectors is his smoking hot beauty of a wife - and you never thought that he will actually abandon you here. Now, standing in your small kitchen, still wearing your adorable pink apron and ring held on a gunpoint by the most notorious cutthroats of the city, you know better. Horangi is the most ell known hitman of KorTac, and he knows the tastes of his boss more than anyone else - maybe, this is why you weren’t just held for ransom in hopes that your husband will come back, but was pushed deeper, held as a pretty toy for the boss. Not that you knew this at the moment.

Konig introduces you to a very few options. You can refuse to be his little bird, throw away all of his good will intentions and be a little bitch - so he wouldn’t feel too bad about killing you. Or, preferably, you can ask him to be soft with you, you can plead him for forgiveness for you and your husband - and he will take you as collateral instead of just fucking and killing you afterwards. You’re a good girl, so, of course, you plead him to be gentle. God, he just doers the sight of you on your knees, your house dress is making the scene look all the more domestic and, dare he say, adorable. He can’t help himself - he kisses you, kisses you like there is no tomorrow, and he is acting like it’s no big deal, either. He gets you up on his lap and this is your earned placed from now on - even when he is busy with meetings and talking to very, very evil people, he will keep you with him as if little lucky charm. Grasping your thigh and laying with the soft flesh every time you wince at the blood or a rude word being thrown around the room. You’re from a good family, after all, you aren’t used to the harsh ways of this business. Good girls are hiding their faces in their husband’s chests as their husband kill the traitors with a soft, tiny promise of doing the same with you if you to ever disobey him. But you’re a smart cookie, so you try your best to forget that this is even happening. You put a smile on your face and act all lovingly and gentle even with his crooks and thugs - they all adore you, always knowing the difference between common whores that boss occasionally has, and you, his prettiest girl.

You would sit beside him in clubs, too - he drags you out with him, mostly to turn down the girls who are chasing him like little fireflies, and also because he wants to have you available for a quick fuck while he is being served drinks. He wants all of you with him on a silver platter - even if for the first few times you are together, he had to press his gun against your temple and threaten to pull the trigger if you won’t be his good girl. You learned to suck him off just right while he is discussing the fate of your husband with you. You learn to just nod to whatever torture he is proposing to your poor hubby and smile when he pets your head and says that he will keep you with him - not just as a collateral anymore, but as a girl that rightfully belongs to him. You don’t want to be referred to as his girl - it there is really isn’t much of a choice. You’re other his girl, receiving expensive gifts and money for just being with him, or you are a wife of a man who has a debt to him - so, you’re a liability, a hostage, a prisoner. At least now, you can pretend to be an actual wife instead of, well…whatever you are, really. Konig bought you a ring and talks about the wedding, but you know it’s just a bluff. You hope it’s just a bluff.

#cod #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig #cod x reader #yandere cod #mafia!konig

[chosopie]

Hear me out: Conquer Sukana who killed y/n bethroned and Y/n, a very high ranking princess convinces Sukana who leave her baby brother, Yuji be. Yuji is a 3 year old who often clinging to y/n since Sukana basically stole the throne. Sukana falls for the beautiful y/n

CONQUERER - RYOMEN SUKUNA

“Master, it would be best if you spared them. They have done nothing against you,” Uraume spoke while he stood by Sukuna’s tall figure that loomed over you and your baby brother Yuji’s shaking figure. “Perhaps, you could even keep Lady Y/N L/N. She is known for her intelligence and her way with the sword.”

You stood in front of your little brother, arms spread open to shield his small body. Your face was covered in sweat and the blood of the man you were betrothed to. Now that he was dead, you were going to be queen—the queen of the foreign conquerer. It was unfair, but this was the rule and tradition every nation had mutually agreed upon. It was survival of the strongest. Those who are strong enough shall take what they can.

“Leave my brother alone or I will show you no mercy,” you spat.

“No mercy?” Sukuna laughed. “And what could you possibly do to me? You’re just a tiny and meek girl.”

You pulled out the dagger that was attached to the band on your thigh and pointed it at Sukuna’s upper abdomen. He quickly grabbed your wrist and yanked you to his hard and toned chest.

“Stab me, girl. Let’s see what you’ve got,” he moved his face close enough to yours that you could feel the heat radiating off his body. His eyes shamelessly examined your face, slowly trailing down to your exposed flesh. You wore a flowy purple off-shoulder dress that had a large slit that showed your legs. With him towering over you, he could see the top of your breasts your dress failed to cover.

You spat at him, causing him to move back. He scowled and tightly held your face with his large hand. His sharp nails dug onto your supple skin, leaving red streaks all over your cheeks.

“Do the women here have no knowledge of manners? Know your place. I own this nation now. I own you.” He let go of your face and snatched Yuji.

“No! Get away, monster!” Yuji fought back and tried to squeeze his way out of Sukuna’s arms.

“Yuji!” You screamed and stabbed Sukuna on the chest, carving out a big line that went all the way to his stomach.

Sukuna winced and threw Yuji onto the ground. You tried to run to your brother, but Sukuna grabbed you and held you in place.

“Please! Let him go! Just take me instead, you bastard!”

“Is that so?” Sukuna smirked, his hand effortlessly lifting Yuji from the ground and tossing him to you. You catched Yuji and hugged him tight, your left hand on the small of his back and right hand gently caressing his hair. “I shall take you as my wife,” the fierce man said.

-

Sukuna sat comfortably on his throne, his chin resting on the palm of his hands while he blankly stared at the lavish banquet your people had prepared. There were girls in revealing dresses that danced right in front of him, but his eyes were elsewhere. His gaze was fixed on you, who sat beside him in a beautiful white dress that was elegantly draped on your dainty figure. Your neck and wrists were covered in jewels of all sorts that Sukuna had gifted you prior to your unification.

“Smile a little, my dove. It’s our wedding. You’re more than lucky to have me as your ally. After all, I’m the strongest out there.”

Your eyes refused to meet his piercing gaze. “Ally? I had no choice. You forcefully took me.”

He gently reached for your chin and turned your head towards him. “You gave yourself to me, remember?”

“That’s because I had to protect my brother.”

“And you looked beautiful doing that. You would make a great mother,” he smiled with amusement.

: ̗̀➛ part 2

#rev.writes #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #ryomen sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna

[dollwrites]

𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐭 — 𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, facefucking, deepthroat, it gets sloppy, toji’s mean, degradation, noncon, failed tap outs, suggested age gap, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ i caved and finally wrote my first toji fic i know i’ve been teasing for a while. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

“What are you crying for, huh?” Toji’s vice on your hair was a tight fist, creating a makeshift ponytail so he could see your tears on your face. “You wanted to learn, didn’t you, girlie?” you could hear the amusement in his voice. the arrogance of knowing he was too much for you. too big. too rough. but uncaring. “Now you’re gonna boo-hoo about it?”

the best you could manage was a gargling whimper, your lips stretched wide around the thickness of his mighty cock. if your eyes crossed, you could see the shine from your spit and lipgloss smeared along the surface of his skin, giving each rigid vein a highlight. if you watched his inches disappear into your mouth, you got dizzy. the way he dribbled your head on his groin had your head spinning. back and forth, up and down, hard and fast.

“Just take it and stop whining so much, little bitch.”

Toji Fushiguro didn’t do soft and sweet.

you knew that, but you’d hoped he’d take a little more care than this.

you could feel the bones in his knuckles bat against the back of your head when he pushed you down hard, forcing the majority of him into your mouth, the girthy, reddened head threatening to push its way right down your throat, and when he yanked on your hair to pull you back, your scalp stung. you couldn’t help but whine and choke— he wasn’t giving you any choice. you’d forgotten how to stay calm and breathe through your nose, and instead twitched and squirmed.

“Fucking hell,” he grunted, and took a moment to exert his power on you, pushing you down until you kissed his broad base, the musky coarse hair tickling your nostrils and scraping against your plushy cheeks, “can’t even take a cock without being a drama queen. Stop moving around so damn much, let me get in that tight, little throat.” he held you there, trying to force his way in, but you couldn’t stop yourself from freaking out the second you felt him start to invade. bunching your shoulders, you push yourself up from where you were sitting on your calf muscles, both hands fleeing to pat and shove at his muscular thighs in a gagging attempt to tell him to stop. you felt the need to retch, and the sensation of having your air supply limited so drastically so quickly, and every alarm in your head went off to get off of him.

“What?” he barked, breathing ragged. “Want me to stop already? Can’t take it?”

you nod and Toji laughs.

“That’s too damn bad.”

for as much as you fought, Toji was stronger, and with a frustrated snarl, he grabbed your head with both hands, instead. gripping either side, he walked you backwards, mouth full of cock, until he pushed the back of your head against the opposing wall. his stance wide, heavy feet planted against either of your legs, he pinned your back to the wall. “Gettin’ real tired of your crybaby ass. Gonna have to teach you my way.”

his way was cruel, and you came to understand that as he jackhammered into your drooling, squealing mouth at a brutal pace, his heavy balls smacking against your chin. you can feel how the skin wants to stick to the gluey saliva dribbling from your sore mouth. your nails bite at his thighs, leaving angry, red scores, but he doesn’t ease up. he refuses to let you breath for even a moment, his large, hot palms clamped over your ears.

it was only after he’d battered the back of your throat and started to slip inside with each, merciless thrust, that you started to cluck, loud and helpless, squinting your eyes. even through the blur of your tears and the wincing, you could still make out his incredibly imposing, powerful figure casting a formidable shadow over you as he power fucked your throat.

maybe it was the subtle yet consistent bumping of your head against the wall, or the overwhelming scent and taste of his arousal enveloping you, overloading your senses, but you started to realize you weren’t struggling nearly as much. your hands, that had been desperate to claw your way to freedom, had ceased, your wrists going limp, as you slumped back against the wall to simply take him until he was done.

“That’s it, those are the sounds I like to hear, that feels fucking good,” he moans, baring his teeth. “Not much fight left in you now, is there? Still want me to be nice, still wanna stop?” for a moment, and much to your surprise, Toji withdrew his cock, allowing it to pop free from your abused, swollen lips. air flooded your lungs and you croaked on it, pushing globs of spit and precum out of the well to drip down your chin and stain your chest. your eyes widen, and you suck in every gulp of oxygen that you could, but you didn’t want to move, just in case he slammed your head into the wall again. weakly, uncertainly, your glassy eyes flicker up to the older man, and you give a defeated shake of your head. “That’s what I thought. You’re getting the hang of it.” he chuckled, hoarsely, running his calloused fingertips over your sticky, messy cheek before giving you a few, solid slaps of encouragement. or, perhaps, praise. you couldn’t tell. you didn’t care. you mewl and try to shy away from it, but he grasps your face hard in one hand and drags you back to look at him. “Now, sit pretty and be a good throat whore. This time, I’m not stopping until I shoot a load into your belly.”

#toji fushiguro #toji fic #toji x reader #toji x you #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #jjk #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu toji #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut

[charliemwrites]

Part 5 (it’s getting out of control) of Charmed Slasher Simon.

Part 4 is here. (Master list coming soon)

(Slight warning for a coworker being a bit of a pushy creep but Simon handles it)

“Riiiiileyyyy.”

Ah, that’s your naughty voice. It means he’s going to want to do awful, terrible things to you out of pure endearment for your cheek.

He turns, arches an eyebrow as you nearly skip up to him. Your hair is shorter.

“New haircut?” he asks as if his fingers aren’t twitching to bury in it and pull your head back.

“Yup! Thought about dyeing it orange, but decided it would clash with my flat.”

He snorts, gives in to the urge to curl a strand around his finger, watches it bounce back into place. You don’t seem to mind, sticking your cute little tongue out at him. (If you’re not careful, he’s going to put you on your knees and have you wrap it around his cock right there.)

“Sensible choice,” he replies, “yellow is more your color.”

You giggle, aren’t bothered by his flat, almost inflectionless tone. “You think?”

“Highlighter yellow. Or maybe banana.”

“Hey, I like bananas!”

He smirks. “Oh yeah? Big ones?”

You shove at him, face going hot. He doesn’t move an inch, not that you were trying hard. Touchy little thing. You remind him of those little birds that flutter around lions, picking and pecking right under their noses, amusing themselves with death.

“Don’t be icky, Riley.”

“Icky.”

“Gross nasty.”

“We’re name calling now?”

“It’s not name calling if it’s true.”

He clicks his tongue, ushers you into the building.

“There a reason for the new hair?” he asks, eyeing it. It’s pretty, don’t get him wrong. But he didn’t know you were getting your hair cut today.

“Fancy office party tonight,” you sigh, rolling your eyes. “My stylist just managed to get me in, but now I’ve gotta rush to get ready.”

“Now who said you could go out?”

“What are you gonna do, stop me?” you laugh, clearly thinking he’s teasing. He’s not. If you looked at his face, you’d know it. But you’re busy fussing with your keys, trying to unlock your door.

“I might.”

“Oh, you stop,” you huff, shaking your head. “It’s not even movie night!”

He’s been coming over once a week to watch a movie and drink with you. One of you picks the movie, the other picks the takeaway. He always chooses a horror movie, likes how your eyes water when you get truly scared. You refuse to watch slashers (haven’t told ‘Riley’ why) but you’ll indulge paranormal ones.

It’s not movie night - those are on Saturdays. This is Friday.

“What if I just kidnap you?” he asks. “Keep you in all weekend?”

You hum as if in thought, glancing at him over your shoulder. “Could I go back to work on Monday?”

“Have to see how I’m feeling on Sunday.”

You giggle. “A tempting offer, but you’ll have to settle for kidnapping me just for Saturday.”

“I don’t think you understand how kidnapping works.”

“I’d be a terrible hostage,” you say. He arches an eyebrow, inviting you to continue. “I have to pee when I’m nervous, I’d be talking their ear off - and! I cry like, so much.”

Oh he knows. He thinks of tears running down your pretty face when he cums.

“Some kidnappers like the crying. Theyre sadists.”

You scrunch your face. “But it’s like… gross crying. Total mess. And I make dying seal noises.”

No, you don’t, not in his experience with you at least. But he’s not going to explain that to you.

“Didn’t you have something to get ready for?” he asks because he’s violently wrestling the urge to make good on his threat.

“Fuck!” You glance at your watch, brows scrunching. “If I’m late, I’m blaming you, Riley Simmons.”

“Oh no.”

You stick your tongue out at him one last time and disappear behind your door.

—

He hears you come back at 11:30, has been waiting up. Pauses when he hears two sets of footsteps, a man’s voice talking to you. A wave of bloodlust nearly drowns his better sense.

You brought someone home from a work event? Did you lie to him and go on a date?

“Well, thanks for walking me to my door, Brandon.”

“Was happy to. Don’t want anyone snatching you up off the street now, do we?” An annoying laugh. Yours sounding a little flat and strained joining him.

“Oh, hey, mind if I come in?” Brandon asks. So casually, as if the yes is expected.

Simon’s hands ball into tight fists.

“Ah, it’s pretty late…”

“Well, that’s what Saturday is for, right?”

Oh. That little roach. Simon’s going to hang him by his own guts.

“I have plans tomorrow, actually.”

Good girl.

“That’s alright,” Brandon persists. “Just one drink. Least you can do since I went out of my way, right?”

“I mean, you didn’t have to, I would have been fine.”

There’s some genuine annoyance in your voice this time. Simon’s proud.

“Nah, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you go home after having drinks?” Brandon chuckles.

“I didn’t have that many - and anyway I’m here now, so…”

“And so am I. At least a little something for my troubles?”

And Simon hears just the slightest, faintest ruffle of clothes.

That’s enough.

Simon yanks his door open and steps out. You’re nearly pancaked to your own door, head snapping to him with relief.

“Riley!”

Brandon takes a step back, expression stormy. Simon almost laughs. Little prick is barely taller than you, has done hard work maybe twice in his life. His hands look softer than yours. And he’s wearing a sweater vest.

“Did we wake you up?” you ask.

Simon saunters down the hall towards you. The closer he gets, the more nervous Brandon gets. But you seem to relax a bit more with each step, even shift towards him.

Very good girl.

“Was already up.” He doesn’t look away from Brandon, radiating menace.

You hum in understanding - know Simon keeps late hours. Brandon clears his still-intact throat and you jolt a bit, expression wilting.

“Oh, um. Riley this is my coworker. Brandon, this is Riley, my neighbor.”

“How do you do?” Brandon replies stiffly.

Simon’s not playing along.

“You try to push her again, someone will be pushing you in a wheelchair the rest of your life. Understand?”

Brandon sputters while your eyes go adorably wide, expression caught between horror and gratitude. Like you don’t know if you should be condoning his threats.

“I beg your pardon?!”

“Not yet, but you will if I see you here again, yeah?”

Brandon’s face drains of blood. You press your lips together.

“Now get the fuck out. I’ve got her from here.”

Brandon, worm that he is, scurries away with a hasty “see you Monday”. You don’t reply, too busy blinking up at Simon with parted lips.

He chucks you gently under the chin, eyes narrowing in amusement.

“Off to bed. I’m kidnapping you tomorrow.”

You audibly swallow, then nod.

“Thank you.”

“Good manners.”

#thoughts™️ #cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic #slasher ghost #charmed ghost #final girl reader

[chaepink]

DAY 31: A HOUSEHUSBAND'S DUTY | RIMMING

after coming home from a hard day at work, your househusband surprises you by wearing a maid outfit. though he's annoyed that you're late so how about you bend him over the kitchen counter and eat him out to make up for it?

⋆ ࣪. ❤︎ PAIRING ⸻ househusband!nanami kento x reader

⋆ ࣪. ❤︎ WARNINGS ⸻ dom!gn!reader, nanami in a maid dress, rimming, alternate universe, teasing, pet names, kitchen sex, fingering (m receiving), anal play, praise, edging

⋆ ࣪. ❤︎ WORDS ⸻ 2k words

KINKTOBER EVENT

Weight gets lifted off your shoulder the moment you walk into your place, the delicious scent of dinner hitting your nose and making you let out a hum. You immediately recognize it as your favorite meal.

Even since you and Nanami chose to get away from the magical world together and start someplace new, its been the best choice you two have made ever since. Nanami had offered to stay at home and take care of the shared house as you work and support the two of you. And lets just say that his cooking is some of the best you've ever tasted.

You quickly take off your jacket and shoes to make your way to the kitchen where the smell is coming from and a smile appears on your face at the thought of seeing your husband after such a long day at work. You had stayed at work for an hour and a half longer than usual due to technical difficulties and traffic but after getting through it all, you hurried back home to see your darling.

Though when you turn the corner into the kitchen, you stop in your tracks, your eyes immediately widening at the sight: Nanami is wearing a fucking maid dress.

"You're late." He mumbles without looking at you but you can still just barely see his flushed face. You rapidly blink to make sure you're not seeing it wrong as your breath is caught in your throat, your eyes roaming the back of his figure. The frilly black and white dress adorned with lace seems a couple sizes too small for him, the material tight against his skin and hugging him in all the right places. The short dress stops a little below his ass, barely covering the plump skin and sure to rise up if he bends down (or over). Black puffy sleeves adorn the dress and add to the overall cuteness of it.

The thought of dinner has left your mind the second you stepped into the kitchen and something else has taken your attention instead.

"Are you... wearing a maid dress for me, Nanami?" Though the answer is obvious, he doesn't answer your question and instead lets out a huff. You suddenly realize he's annoyed at your late timing and you chuckle.

You walk towards him and wrap your arms around his chest, playing with the adorable lace and buttons on the front. "Sorry for being late today. There were some difficulties at work, you know? Though you in a maid dress certainly takes my mind off that." He still refuses to look at you. You sigh at his pettiness as your hands slowly trail down his down, feeling his defined body under the thin material of the dress. They make their way down his exposed thighs and squeeze them, relishing in the way Nanami freezes and stops adding ingredients to the pot.

"Could I make it up to you, baby?" You tilt your head sideways to take a view at the flushed face behind his glasses and you grin when he finally glances at you with a hint of neediness in his eyes.

You can't help but go under the maid dress and grope his ass, loving the way Nanami lets out a gasp that turns into a small moan.

"Turn around for me." Nanami slowly does and avoids your eye contact and how the look in your eyes screams 'i just want to rip it off.' The buttons on the front seem almost as if they're about to pop off due to the size of Nanami's chest in the dress but it just looks so good like that. Now that he's facing you, you can finally see him in all his glory. Especially the bulge against his skirt that Nanami just prays in his head that you don't see or pay attention to.

"Already hard, hm?" You laugh at the way Nanami covers his face and groans. Seeing a 6 foot man who just looks so serious and stern all the time dressed in a little maid dress outfit—while its something you never would have expected—has your mouth watering. "Don't worry," you say, getting closer to him. Your body presses against his and you harshly grab his chin to look at you.

"I think it's rather cute." You begin to feel him grind his bulge against you and you quickly pull away from his body, making Nanami reach out to grab you but you slap his hands away, shaking your head. "No touching."

Leading him to a nearby free counter after turning the stove off, your hands begin to roam his body even more. Your rough groping and squeezing leaves Nanami breathless and hot underneath the outfit.

"All this for me? You sure do love spoiling me, honey." He lets out a grunt when you turn him around and push his body on top of the cold surface of the counter, his nipples immediately hardening. His face is pressed against the surface as his breaths become ragged.

"H-Hurry up, [name]." You chuckle at his eagerness. Though your husband is usually always quiet, stern, and serious, you love it when he becomes needy around you and when he surprises you with stuff like this.

The maid dress rises up his ass, giving you a full view of his ass as well as the pair of white lacy panties he's wearing.

"Holy shit."

Though you didn't prepare for the panties, you're certainly not complaining. A hand goes to the hem and lifts it off his skin before letting it snap against his hip. Nanami lets out a whimper at the feeling and your rough touches.

"I never thought you would look this good in a maid dress. I definitely should've asked you to wear one ages ago." You let out a small chuckle. Nanami turns his head to say something back, probably a sarcastic retort, but a squeeze of his ass again shuts him right up.

You pull down his panties to reveal a butt plug in his hole. Surprise after surprise leaves you eager to ruin him even more but a little teasing never hurts anyone.

"Already prepped, hm?" He quickly nods.

Nanami shivers when he feels your fingers grip the plug, slowly pulling it out at such an agonizing pace. When it's halfway out, you push it back in, making him let out a moan, his back slightly arched at the feeling. You keep doing it for a while and Nanami quickly becomes impatient.

"J-Just take it out already." He glares at you but the glare lacks any real threat. After all, you're the one in control and he doesn't look very threatening when he's bent over a counter in a maid dress with a butt plug in him. Nanami realizes that quickly and looks away.

You tsk at his bratty behavior. "I don't think you're in the position to be giving me commands, darling. Not when you're the one about to get your ass eaten too." Nanami chokes on his spit at your blunt words.

However, you decide that you've done enough teasing and pull the plug out of his hole, leaving him to squeeze around nothing and left feeling empty.

But the empty feeling leaves and the feeling of being full returns when you shove two fingers in him and immediately curl them, hitting the spot in him that makes pre cum splurt out of his hardened dick and onto the floor. You feel him grind against your fingers in fervor and you add another finger, stretching him out even more than the plug did. You still feel the lube he used meaning he must've prepped himself only a couple hours ago.

"S-Shit ngh g-go deeper..." You plunge your fingers deeper into him. His glasses fog up from his heavy breathing as your movements quickly make him fall apart in front of you. But before he could warn you that he's about to cum, you take your fingers out.

He groans in displeasure at you and you just smile. "I can't just be fingering you the entire time, can I?" You get on your knees and leave a teasing kiss on his cheeks. You give his ass a light slap before spreading them apart, revealing his twitching hole to you, making Nanami's dick twitch. "Though I'm sure you would still enjoy it."

He feels your intense gaze on his behind and his face flushes as he grumbles at you. "Q-Quit staring and get on with it." You roll your eyes. "So eager," you mumble under your breath.

Nanami practically melts against the counter when he feels your tongue begin to circle his rim, a groan bubbling out of his throat. You notice his knuckles begin to turn white from how hard he gripping the shelf above him.

Your tongue teases him as it continues to circle the outside before catching him off guard and pushing your tongue inside. It goes in easily due to the plug and your fingering earlier and Nanami lets out a high pitched whimper that certainly doesn't fit his appearance.

"O-Oh God..."

You hum at the taste of him and as your tongue goes deeper inside him, you feel Nanami slowly grind against it, eager for more. The harsh grip your hands have on his ass will surely leave red nail marks on his ass afterward but you've learned that Nanami is a fan of the marks you leave on his body and sometimes even begs you to leave them.

Now that the pleasure finally got to his head, he's gone rather quiet and isn't talking as much, only the sound of his groans and whimpers filling the room. The lewd, sinful wet sounds of your tongue in his ass makes his mind go mushy. It's so dirty but the thought only makes him grind against you even more. He feels his legs begin to shake and he could only let out a cry when one of your hands goes to his hardened dick and begin to pump it. His pre cum leaks out of his dick and onto the floor, making a mess on it.

The pleasure from your tongue and your hand on his dick makes his back arch as he subconsciously pushes his ass up in the air. The kitchen quickly feels too hot as your clothes cling to your skin. Your hands speed up on his dick, wanting to quickly bring Nanami to his release. Your hands bunch the material of his maid dress up his back as your hands grip his hips to push him closer to your face.

When your tongue hits a spot in him that makes his eyes roll and toes curl, Nanami doesn't have enough time to tell you that he's about to cum as his release hits him like a tidal wave, a loud moan erupting from his throat.

Nanami slumps against the kitchen counter as his orgasm sends shocks up his spine and his dick makes a mess underneath him and on the cabinet in front of him. Some end up on his skirt and you can't help but think how sinful Nanami looks with his dick out, maid dress wrinkled and soiled, and cum underneath him.

His breaths are ragged as he tries to recompose himself from his intense orgasm. His half-lidded, hazy gaze turns to meet yours when you stand back up. He sends you a half-glare half-pout look with his face full on red when you choose to lick your lips at him, grinning at his state.

Your hands suddenly make their way up his body and when you bend over to murmur in his ear the warm feeling of your breath sends shivers up his spine. "Shall we take this upstairs?" Without wasting a second to think about the dinner that needs to be made, Nanami nods.

It's safe to say that dinner was long forgotten but who cares when you have an appetite for entirely something else.

note: day 31! ugh it went so fast and now my first kinktober is over already :') happy halloween to those who celebrate it!

🏷️ : @Vealize21 @fabitheraven @sourissue @jksstuffposts @gallantys @tired-of-life-86 @ineedsleeporilldie @aphoneixnamed-angel @flawlessvictorymentality @wowonamo @euphiroo @saintravey @tomiokx @archer-fb @d1gitalbathh @Lifesucksweswallow @rxflen @aspengagrimlin @ilovemenwhowhimperandbeg @deffnotstarguys @laraleafs @lamees004 @literary-latte @cl-0-vr @qweenjx @katebaku7710 @yenakwyl @katsuslover @mysicklove @fairyvibez @someonepleasesedateme @arminsesposa

#chaepink.kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #sub!character #dom reader #dom!reader #sub!jjk #jjk #sub!nanami #sub nanami #nanami x reader #dom fem reader #sub jujutsu kaisen #jujustu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #kento x reader #nanami kento #nanami smut #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #jjk x reader #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #fem dom reader #dom! reader #sub character #sub jjk #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk nanami

[ginnsbaker]

Bulletproof

Summary: You're the only Avenger who sleeps in a cell. | Series Masterlist

Word count: 2.9k+ | Tags: Mild Angst, Fluff, Sharing A Bed, Enemies to Lovers

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader

Requested by anon:

could i maybe request wanda x r where the whole team kinda mistreats them and wanda is especially bad. & r saving wanda on a mission, with this: wanda: “How'd you know you were bulletproof?" r: "I didn't. I just knew that you weren't."

Author's note: Thank you to the anon who requested this :) Not sure if this is exactly how you wanted it, but I had fun writing the battle (my first time!) Hope you don't mind I took some liberties ;) Takes place before Civil War.

--

“You don’t have to be so mean to them,” Natasha tells her. 

Wanda's eyes narrow as she continues to fixate on you, her glare seemingly willing the daggers to find their mark. You can sense the energy of her powers tingling in the air, but she maintains control, stopping the daggers just short of their target.

“They need to know what they’re up against,” Wanda retorts, her accent slipping through in a rare moment. “If they’re going to be one of us, they have to prove themselves.”

Natasha moves to stand between you and Wanda, her body language calm but assertive. “They will, in time. But not like this.”

You can feel your heart pounding, but you refuse to let Wanda see any fear in your eyes. Your choice to leave your former life and join this team wasn't made lightly, and you won't be intimidated.

“I'm right here,” you say, stepping forward. “And I'm not going anywhere. If you want to test me, do it properly.”

Wanda smirks, and the daggers drop to the floor, clattering loudly in the silence. “Impressive,” she says, almost as an afterthought.

Steve Rogers, observing from the sidelines, steps in to defuse the situation. His authoritative presence commands respect, and his voice is steady and even. “That's enough for today. We're a team, and we need to start acting like one.”

He looks at you, his eyes filled with understanding but also a hint of caution. “However,” he continues, his tone shifting, “You'll still be sleeping in the cells.”

Your heart plummets, each word from Steve feeling like a blade to your chest. Being sent back to that room, devoid of windows, with only a tiny bed and a comforter too thin to ward off the chill, feels like a betrayal every time. You've spent nights there, shivering and reflecting on your decision to join this team, yet still, you find yourself confined.

“After several months of captivity, even cooking your dinner, you still don't trust me?” you ask, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice.

Steve's expression softens, but his resolve remains firm. “It's not about trust,” he says quietly, his voice carrying a weight of experience and pain. “We've been crossed so many times before, mostly by former HYDRA agents.”

Like you, he doesn’t need to say.

You understand the logic, but it doesn't make the reality any easier to swallow. The sense of being an outsider, the cold isolation of the cells—it wears on you.

Wanda, who had been silent up to this point, suddenly speaks up. “Maybe you should just leave then. If it's so unbearable, why stay?”

The room goes quiet. 

A thousand retorts spring to your mind, but you swallow them down, unwilling to escalate the situation further. The temptation to throw back that it's rich coming from her, considering she's also a former footsoldier of HYDRA, is strong, but you bite your tongue. 

You look at her, stunned by the bluntness of her suggestion, but also recognizing the challenge in her eyes. 

Her words strike deeper than she may realize. Leaving isn't an option you've entertained, mainly because there's nowhere for you to go. No one left in your life to turn to. This makeshift “family” despite their reservation and distance, is all you have.

-

The days that follow are marked by a subtle but relentless isolation. 

In the training room, Wanda's partnership becomes more aggressive than usual. Her powers lash out without warning, her critiques sharp and cutting. You hold your own, but the lack of camaraderie is palpable. Each comment she makes stings, and with every barb, you feel more and more alone.

At meal times, the rest of the Avengers seem to be in their own world, deep in conversation, sharing stories, laughing. You sit at the end of the table, your presence barely acknowledged, a shadow among them. Your attempts to join in are met with curt replies or indifference. You try to brush it off, believing that you should be used to rejection by now. But no matter how much you tell yourself that you're accustomed to it, that you've developed a thick skin, the pain is still there, raw and fresh.

Mission briefings are no better. Your opinions and insights are consistently overlooked. You contribute where you can, but your ideas are dismissed without consideration. You are a tool, a means to an end, not a part of the team. The realization gnaws at you, festering in the pit of your stomach.

Casual encounters with the team become equally disheartening. Tony passes you in the hallway without so much as a glance. Natasha avoids eye contact. Bruce mumbles something noncommittal when you try to engage him in conversation. Steve's assignments are devoid of the warmth or encouragement he shows to everyone else.

Your cell becomes a constant reminder of your status, metaphor for how the entire team treats you. 

You’re both just a weapon and a first-aid kit at their disposal.

Wanda is relentless, her words sharp and her gaze cold. You have no idea why she treats you worse than any of them, why her manner towards you has turned so hostile. You don't understand why you get under her skin without even trying, why she seems to target you with a venom that feels deeply personal.

You were expecting that Wanda would be the one to understand what it feels like to be an outsider, given that you both share a common history as former HYDRA agents. 

As the days turn into weeks, the isolation wears you down. The walls of your cell seem to close in, and a growing determination to prove yourself begins to take hold. 

You'll show them all that you're more than just a disposable weapon.

But underlying that determination is a gnawing doubt, a fear that no matter what you do, it will never be enough to earn their respect, their trust, or their friendship. It's a lonely road, and for the first time, you begin to wonder if Wanda's earlier suggestion might hold some truth.

Perhaps it would be easier to leave.

-

It’s not like you know the extent of your abilities, but they bring you along the most dangerous missions for one thing:

Your healing ability.

On top of your martial arts training, you provide a sense of security to your teammates, knowing that you'll be there to heal them if they get hurt.

Now, you find yourself on one such mission, infiltrating a den of underground supers. These aren't ordinary criminals; they're mercenaries hired to carry out the dirty work of high-ranking government officials. It's a treacherous job, one filled with unknown risks, and you've been paired with Wanda for the operation.

As you and Wanda are attempting to escape, things take a turn for the worse. You find yourselves cornered in an alley, your escape route cut off by a group of armed thugs and a few individuals displaying unnerving superpowers.

Wanda takes on those with special abilities, her eyes glowing red as she unleashes her powers in a flurry of attacks. You, on the other hand, focus on the armed assailants, wielding two-handed pistols with expert precision. Bullets fly, and bodies fall as you both fight for your lives.

But in the midst of the chaos, you notice something that sends a chill down your spine. Snipers, perched on a nearby rooftop, taking aim at Wanda. Even with your healing abilities, you know that a precise shot to the head would be fatal.

“Wanda, get down!” you shout, but she's too engrossed in her battle to hear you. Your mind races, knowing that you have only seconds to act. 

Without a second thought, you turn and run towards Wanda, your body moving on pure instinct. Bullets whiz by your ear, but you keep going, your focus solely on reaching her before it's too late.

You leap into the air, positioning yourself between Wanda and the snipers just as they pull the trigger. 

You hear the distant release of the bullet, muted but deadly.

The world seems to slow down as you brace for the impact, only to feel the bullets bounce off your skin.

You land, unscathed, your mind reeling from the realization that you're bulletproof. But there's no time to dwell on it.

Wanda looks at you, her eyes wide with shock but also gratitude. “How did you–”

“No time!” you cut her off, urging her to keep fighting. “We have to get out of here!”

Wanda's eyes flare with a vivid scarlet as she zeroes in on the snipers in the vicinity. With a flourish of her hands, she uses her powers to locate each of their positions. A pulse of energy emanates from her fingertips, reaching out to the snipers' weapons, and within moments, the firearms disintegrate into dust, leaving the men defenseless.

Seeing an opening, you reach for Wanda's arm, your grip firm but not rough. There's no time to waste, and you start pulling her towards the exit, half running, half dragging her to safety. Her breath is warm on your neck, her body close to yours, as you weave through the maze of alleyways, your heart pounding in your chest.

Once you're at a safe distance, Wanda turns to you. “How'd you know you were bulletproof?”

“I didn't,” you admit, still in disbelief, and much to Wanda’s horror that you almost got yourself killed for her sake. “I just knew you weren't. And if those bullets got to you, I wouldn't be able to heal someone who's already dead.”

Wanda stares at you, her eyes searching your face as if she's trying to see something… deeper. Her lips part, like she wants to say something more, something that's just on the tip of her tongue but won't come out.

That's when you realize that you're still holding her arm, your bodies so close that you can feel her heartbeat. A flush of embarrassment washes over you as you become aware of the intimate proximity. Wanda clears her throat, a delicate, almost shy sound, and you immediately let go of her arm.

The silence that follows your sudden step back is heavy and awkward. You can't help but glance at the spot where your hand had been moments ago, still feeling the ghostly sensation of her arm beneath your fingers.

You look at Wanda, and she's looking back at you, her eyes wide and filled with something you can't quite name. 

And then, without warning, Wanda starts to laugh.

It's a soft, bubbling sound at first, almost as if she's surprised by it herself. Her laughter grows, becoming louder and more contagious, and you can't help but stare at her, your mouth agape, wondering if she's lost her mind.

“What's so funny?” you finally manage to ask.

Wanda wipes a tear from her eye, still chuckling. “I was just thinking,” she says, her nose scrunching, something you haven’t seen on her and you find it quite… adorable. “You're like a shield now. As effective as Steve's vibranium one, maybe even more so.”

The absurdity of the statement causes you to finally join in her laugh, and your heart seems to flutter at the sound of Wanda's glee.

“I don't know about that,” you say, trying to sound modest but unable to keep the smile off your face. “Steve's shield has a bit more style.”

“Oh, I don't know,” Wanda teases, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “There's something quite stylish about being bulletproof. And practical too.”

Was that a compliment?

You shake your head, still smiling, your previous awkwardness forgotten. You're not only pleased at the first light banter you've shared with a teammate but also smiling at something else, something that stirs deep inside you and that you're not quite ready to confront.

Your crush on Wanda Maximoff.

-

The toll of the day's event is weighing down on you and Wanda, but like every mission, you're required to report the details of the mission–successful or not. Your muscles are sore, your mind is weary, but the mission was a success, and you can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment.

Arriving back at the Avengers compound, you follow Wanda into the debriefing room where Steve is waiting. Wanda explains what happened, how you discovered your newfound ability, and saved her life. Her voice is filled with respect and something more, something warmer, as she recounts your bravery.

Steve's face lights up with pride. “You both did well today. I'm proud of how you handled yourselves out there.”

You exchange a glance with Wanda, waiting for something more, perhaps some acknowledgment of your change in status within the team, or even an upgrade to your sleeping quarters. But instead, Steve simply nods, his face turning serious. “Dismissed.”

Wanda's face falls, and you feel a sharp pang of disappointment. You start to retreat towards your cell, the cold, windowless room that's been your home for months, but Wanda's voice stops you in your tracks.

“Wait a minute, Steve,” she protests. “After all that's happened, after all Y/N has done for us, don't you think it's time for a change? A real room, perhaps?”

Steve looks between you and Wanda. You hold your breath, hoping for a reprieve from the isolation you've been feeling.

Finally, Steve sighs, his face softening. “Wanda, if it were up to me, Y/N would have their own room already. But it's not that simple,” he explains, his voice strained. “I still need to place an official request with Tony. He's the one who approves these things.”

You can hear the frustration in Steve's voice, and you realize that he's fighting for you, in his own way.

“Fine,” Wanda says, crossing her arms. “But this needs to be done quickly, Steve. It's not right.”

“I agree. I'll talk to Tony first thing tomorrow.”

As you turn to leave and retreat back to your cell, Wanda's hand on your arm stops you, and you look back at her, surprised by the action.

“Come with me,” she says. Without another word, she leads you towards her quarters. 

Your heart quickens at her words, and you follow her, trying to process what's happening. 

Is she really inviting you to stay in her room?

Once inside her quarters, the reality of the situation sinks in, and a nervous tension takes hold. Her room is filled with personal touches–little trinkets, photographs, her clothes all over the place–that provide glimpses into a life you've only seen from a distance. You feel like an intruder, momentarily paralyzed as you take in the intimacy of her space.

Wanda seems to pick up on your hesitation, her eyes narrowing as she studies you. A smirk plays on her lips as she teases, “Don't look so terrified. I won't bite.”

You chuckle at her remark. “Well, that's a relief.”

Wanda's eyes sparkle with amusement, and she moves further into the room, gesturing for you to follow. “Make yourself at home,” she says. She then goes to the closet and begins to pull out a spare pillow and blanket. “You'll be staying here with me until we sort out a room for you,” she says.

“Thanks, Wanda,” you say softly.

Without further comment, you move to make your bed on the floor, your movements deliberate and slow as you try to give her space and respect her privacy.

“What are you doing?” Wanda asks, her eyes widening as she realizes your intention.

“I'm just getting ready to sleep,” you explain, feeling slightly embarrassed. “I'm quite tired.”

“No, what are you doing on the floor?” she clarifies, a hint of disbelief in her voice. “You're sharing the bed with me.”

“I wouldn't want to impose,” you say, though the offer is tempting.

“You're not imposing,” Wanda assures you, her eyes sincere. “You've earned a proper bed, and I trust you.”

The word 'trust' hits you like a wave, and you feel tears pricking at the back of your eyes. 

Blinking them back, your voice cracks a little as you reply, “Thank you, Wanda. That means more to me than you know.”

“Good night, Y/N,” Wanda whispers, turning on her side to face you.

“Good night, Wanda,” you say, just as softly.

You both settle on the bed, and with a flick of her wrist, Wanda uses her powers to switch off the light.

The softness of Wanda's bed is worlds away from the harsh, unforgiving mattress in your cell. You find yourself sinking into the plush comfort, every muscle in your body releasing the tension from the dangerous mission earlier. The scent of Wanda on the pillows only adds to the incomparable comfort they provide. The difference is staggering, and it contributes to you falling asleep much more quickly than you have in a long time.

In the middle of the night, you're stirred awake by the feeling of Wanda rolling closer to you. Her arm finds its way over your stomach, and her soft snores fill the room. Being ever alert, the small action wakes you, but as soon as you realize it's just Wanda, a smile forms on your face.

You lie there for a moment, taking in the warmth and the gentle pressure of her hand. A soft blush creeps up your cheeks as you place your hand over hers to keep it there.

You've become more than just teammates.

You've become friends.

And maybe, just maybe, something more.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff #captain america civil war #the avengers #oneshots #steve rogers #fic request

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Zoro is fuckboy material.

Sanji is boyfriend material.

Shanks is husband material.

Mihawk is BDSM Dom Daddy™ material.

Earlier I refused to elaborate.

Now, I will elaborate no further than the sources below the dotted line.

dottedlinethedottedlinethedottedlineth

Zoro

He'll pull you into a broom closet without any warning at all, turn you around, pull your panties down under your skirt, and have you right there when the mood strikes.

Then he'll catch your eye across the deck half an hour later and give you a little smirk that makes your cheeks flare bright red. You're not sure if you want to either kick him in the shin or go for another round right that moment, if not both.

He's not looking for anything serious because he's just not that good at getting close with anyone or being emotionally available in general.

There's a lot of time between port towns, and you're a good match for each other's physical needs and desires, but not much beyond that.

Sanji

Even if he is a relentless flirt, he's just such a complete sweetheart. It's difficult not to swoon at those subtle little touches at your waist and hips, at his seductive murmur in your ear.

He respects every last one of your boundaries; if you tell him something he's doing bothers you, he's going to back off from it. No protest, no questions asked. He's still going to make it clear that he thinks you're incredible, but he wants you to be comfortable and happy above all else.

He's still as sweet as candy even once he does win you over. Playful and flirty and constantly planning the most romantic dates. Picnics on the beach, preparing candlelit diners just for the two of you, laying out a pallet of blankets and pillows with a bottle of wine under the stars—doing everything possible to make you feel special.

It's difficult to tell where it will go, but he's sweet and doting and fun, and he puts every ounce of effort into treating you like literal royalty.

Shanks

You're his lover just as much as you are his best friend. He doesn't hold anything back from you, good or bad, trivial or important. He wouldn't ever consider keeping a secret from you because the thought simply wouldn't even cross his mind—whatever he knows, you know. If anyone else tells him something in confidence, they tell him knowing that he's going to tell you the second he sees you.

His gestures of romance are more subtle and revolved around camaraderie than worship. If you're cooking or cleaning, he wants to be there, both to help lessen the load and to just be there with you. If he sees you washing dishes, he's right there next to you with a towel to dry them and put them away. If you're cooking, he's helping clean up after you. If you're sweeping the floors, he's apt to just take the broom from you, kiss you on the cheek, and tell you to go take a load off and relax.

Absolutely nothing could ever stop him from being with you. There could be an entire armada of Marine warships between you and him, and he would still find his way to you.

Every hope or dream you have ever had in your life is also his now. Literally all of them. It doesn't matter how long ago it was or how unobtainable it seems—if you still want it, he wants to make sure you achieve it. Does't matter what it is. He's never going to tell you it's silly or impossible or unachievable—he's going to exhaust every effort to find a way to make sure you can achieve it.

Mihawk

Hopefully you didn’t have too many plans of your own, because if you've managed to catch his interest, he's going to make sure that you're his, and probably within the next twenty-four hours or less.

He isn’t completely unreasonable. You will have the option to refuse. But he isn’t going to beat around the bush, either. He's going to pull you against him by your hips, comb his fingers through your hair and grasp it to pull you in and ask you outright if you want to belong to him.

He won't pressure you if you say no. That's your choice. He'll just leave you with a deep, passionate kiss that makes your knees weak, a light brush of his thumb across your lips, and he'll let you go.

But if you say yes...then good luck. You're his now, and he's never letting you go.

#opla #dracule mihawk #mihawk one piece #one piece fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #mihawk x reader #one piece headcanons #shanks opla #shanks x reader #zoro opla #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #sanji #opla headcanons #one piece #zoro #shanks #zoro one piece #shanks one piece

[konigsblog]

jealous, stepbrother-simon riley...

warnings: stepcest, non-con/dub-con, rape, guilt tripping, coercion, manipulation, dark content. dead dove: do not eat. MDNI 18+

PHOTO CREDIT: @AVE661

your stepbrother finds a sickening form of enjoyment by manipulating and guilt tripping you into getting whatever he wants. it's no surprise—or at least it shouldn't be—that your stepbrother can't help himself when it comes to you. he claims it's just him being overprotective with his beloved stepsister, but deep down, simon's gut churns with rage and jealousy when he sees that man, claiming his spot as your boyfriend.

you deserve better—deserve someone that knows you so well, that being simon. he doesn't enjoy seeing your boyfriend, and will snarl at the hickeys on your neck. it makes him sick, and he'll force tears to run down his cheeks, ranting about how lonely he is, how desperate he is to feel something, how being in the military leaves him pathetically lonely, with no time for relationships...

his pitiful sobs leave you feeling guilty, ashamed of yourself—as if you belong to simon. he'll convince you to ride him, or to jerk him off, or even suck his lengthy cock for hours to make it up to him. if you don't comply, he'll take it for himself, telling you through forced weeps how desperate he is—how cruel and horrible you are to refuse and reject him, as if you truly have a choice.

his large and calloused hands forcefully pry your supple thighs open, insatiable and hungry off the scent of your drooling, sweet pussy. the sight of your warm heat leaves simon beyond desperate, as he rubs his bulbous cock back and forth, taunting your clit before easing inside, his breathing quick as he holds you down and thrusts gently, shaming you for being ungrateful. he ‘protects’ you all the time, and yet, you refuse to simply repay him by spreading your folds and allowing him to sink inside that cunny of yours?

he layers your skin in bruises and hickeys, his voice guttural as he shames you for being with that man, for denying him of the right to fuck your pretty pussy. each harsh and deep thrust leaves your body shaking and trembling, tight cunt weeping and slick, morphed to fit simon's cock as you sob out at the ache.

you take him so well—you're all he wants and desires, lovie. what don't you understand? you're made for each other, give in to simon. :(

#orla speaks #tw: stepcest #tw: manipulation #tw: coercion #tw: noncon #tw: dubcon #tw: rape #tw: guilt tripping #dark cod #tw: dark content #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost simon riley #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #mw2 ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2 #cod ghost #ghost cod #ghost mwii #ghost headcanon #ghost x reader #reader x ghost

[steddiealltheway]

(Happy happy birthday Noelle (@frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe) thank you for all your amazing fun facts which are the source for this little ficlet. I hope you enjoy <3)

For some reason, The Party had decided to rent Friday the 13th for their upcoming movie night at Steve's house. With all the shit they've been through, Steve thinks that maybe it's a strange choice, but he knows better than to question the kids.

"What a nice choice," Robin says sarcastically as she looks over Steve's shoulder at the tape. She hasn't quite grasped how defensive the teens can get, but they seem to respect her more than they respect Steve. Figures.

"Isn't it?" Dustin snarks back as he grabs the tape from the counter.

Max rolls her eyes and adds, "I said the same thing."

"Yeah, because you want to watch some shit like Cinderella," Mike whines.

"Does it ever hurt your tiny, sexist brain to think of those weak insults?" Max asks with her eyebrows raised.

Lucas tries to hide a laugh as Mike glares at him.

"Alright, alright, this is the Family Video. Take it outside if you guys are going to bicker," Steve says with a sigh as he moves to restack some tapes Dustin had nudged just to be annoying.

"You and Robin bicker all the time," Dustin says defensively.

Steve gives him a look. "Do you want to lose Harrington house privileges?"

Dustin sighs, looking like he really wants to argue before he turns around to the group and announces defeatedly, "Alright, let's get snacks before tonight."

As they're filing out the door, Dustin runs back to the counter and adds, "I almost forgot. Is it fine if Eddie comes?"

Steve shrugs, trying to look unphased by the question. "Sure," he says, voice cracking a bit.

Dustin instantly lights up. "Great! I already invited him, so that would've been awkward. See you later!"

Robin comes up to him and lightly shoves his shoulder. "Sure," she mocks him. "You're so smooth."

"Shut up," Steve says with a sigh. God, Robin will never let him live down what he thought to be his deathbed confession of his crush on Eddie. In reality, he was just put on so many painkillers in the hospital that he had gotten confused when he woke up in a hospital room.

And yeah, maybe the crush still hasn't gone away and Robin definitely knows, but he refuses to acknowledge it.

"You're going to be at the movie night, right?" Steve asks.

Robin groans. "I've already told you, I have my parent's anniversary dinner tonight."

"So, you'll be at my house tonight," Steve jokes.

"I wish."

Steve nudges her shoulder. He's already seen the obnoxious pictures of Robin and her parents from every year of their wedding anniversaries lining the walls of one particular hallway. It's endearing really, but Robin hates it.

"You better call me later if anything new develops between you and Eddie," Robin whispers although there's no one in the room.

Steve just nods, feeling the blood rise to his cheeks as he still refuses to verbally acknowledge the ridiculous crush that maybe fills his stomach with butterflies and all those obnoxious things.

He sighs and turns to Robin. "How am I going to survive tonight without you?"

"The world may never know," she says dramatically.

And really, the world may never know. At least, that's how Steve feels.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Okay, maybe Steve is a little bit of a mess.

Sure, Eddie has shown up, and Steve has been playing it cool, but it's like he can't take his eyes off him. He's made so much eye contact, he's sure that he's creeping Eddie out a bit or giving away his huge crush.

But he’s Steve Harrington. Like Steve “The Hair” Harrington. Inventor of the Harrington charm. All that stuff. And… Eddie has absolutely melted him into a puddle of goo. Christ.

By the time the movie starts, Steve’s head is practically buzzing with all his thoughts of Eddie is sitting next to me. What do I do? The kids are here, so I can’t make a move. But I don’t even know if he likes me.

Then, Max’s question breaks through the thoughts as she asks, “When is the next Friday the 13th this year?”

“Well, fun fact, any month that starts on a Sunday will have a Friday the 13th,” Eddie says with a proud grin.

Steve ignores the kids’ responses asking when that month is and the subsequent response from Eddie saying he doesn’t know, but he just knows the fact.

But for some reason, the fact is absolutely blowing Steve’s mind.

And yes, maybe it’s because it came from Eddie, but truly, when Steve associates fact with something, it is never fun. But this truly is a… fun fact.

He must have a look on his face because Eddie eyes him and asks, “What?”

Steve just shrugs and says, “I just… really thought the fact was… fun.” Jesus, did his Harrington charm just evaporate or something?

But he thinks the honesty of it works for Eddie who smiles softly at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, how did you know that?”

Eddie swings an arm casually over the back of the couch and leans in. “I’m full of fun facts, Harrington.” He gives him a winks before leaning back.

Steve leans into his space, trying to close some of the distance between them. “Tell me another one.”

Eddie laughs, “I’m going to max out my fun fact limit to one a day.”

“That doesn’t seem fair.”

Eddie tilts his head toward him. “It’s fair if it gives me an excuse to talk to you every day.”

Okay, yeah. That was blatant flirting. Which Steve is about to match, until the kids decide now is the best time to interrupt and yell at them to be quiet as the movie starts.

As the movie goes on, Eddie and Steve drift closer together while trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible in front of the kids. They haven’t talked about it, of course, but Steve’s pretty sure neither of them want to scar the kids. Or maybe, Steve just doesn’t want the kids to very accurately point out his feelings for Eddie and force him to deal with them.

Unfortunately, this also means that Steve doesn’t get a moment alone with Eddie to further flirt with him or try to push him for another fact. But maybe it’s not such a bad thing. Especially since Eddie gave him an excuse to talk to him tomorrow.

-:-:-:-:-:-

“What’s another fun fact?” Steve asks as soon as he hears Eddie on the other line.

“Christ, I just woke up. Give my brain a few seconds,” Eddie groans into the phone, voice rough with sleep.

Steve smiles. “Good morning by the way,” he says sweetly.

“Good morning,” Eddie replies back, sounding a bit less grumpy. There’s a bit of shuffling on his side of the phone before he says, “It’s illegal to feed pigeons on the streets of San Francisco.”

Steve’s jaw drops. “There’s no way!”

“Go ahead and feed a pigeon there then,” Eddie says with a laugh.

“Maybe I will. If you come with me and promise to bail me out.”

Eddie hums on the other line. “I don’t know. I think it would be fun to spend a night in a jail cell with you. Maybe I’ll join you in your crime.”

“Scratch that, I’m bailing you out.”

“That’s sounds about right, Bonnie.”

“Bonnie?” Steve questions, feeling like he’s missed something.

Eddie gasps on the other line. “Like Bonnie and Clyde!”

Steve doesn’t respond, waiting for Eddie to fill him in.

“Okay, this doesn’t count as a fun fact because this is just a story of one of the greatest crime couples to ever exist,” Eddie says excitedly, rambling on about the two.

Steve sits back, cheeks hurting from smiling a little too hard as he listens to Eddie and tries not to linger too much on the fact he compared the two of them to a real life couple.

-:-:-:-:-:-

The phone calls continue every day, but the fun facts really are just a starting point to a long drawn out conversation about whatever’s on their mind.

Robin has pretended to get tired whenever Steve calls her right after Eddie has to hang up or spends hours talking about Eddie during their shift at the Family Video. But he knows she’s secretly just as enthralled about the fun facts as he is.

“Did you know that the Statue of Liberty wears a size eight hundred seventy nine shoe?” Steve asks Robin, still in disbelief over the fact.

“Sounds like you’re talking about me,” Eddie says, somehow coming into the store without Steve noticing.

Steve’s heart beats a little harder as he turns to him. “All good things of course,” Steve says with a wink.

“I was scared you were passing off my facts to Buckley as if they were your own for a second there,” Eddie says, leaning across the the counter.

“And what if I was?” Steve challenges, leaning on the counter.

“Then, I would have to revoke my daily fun fact.”

Steve’s jaw drops. “You’d never.”

Eddie shrugs. “Maybe you’ll just have to see.”

Steve just laughs and shoves his shoulder lightly. “What are you doing here though? Coming to deliver my fun fact in person?”

Eddie blushes and looks down. “No, I was actually just… wondering if you wanted to hang out tonight.”

“Sounds good,” Steve says automatically, not even stopping to think if he has any other plans.

“I’ll see you after your shift then?” Eddie asks, tilting his head a bit.

“I’ll see you then,” Steve confirms with a smile.

Eddie nods and turns to leave.

“Oh, wait!” Steve calls out.

Eddie turns around.

“You haven’t told me your fun fact for today.”

Eddie smiles. “You’ll just have to wait until tonight. After all, it’s a pretty good excuse to make sure you come over.”

Steve scoffs, “As if that’s the only reason.”

Eddie just pulls his hair in front of his face as his smile gets a little wider. “See you soon.”

“Bye,” Steve says, waggling his fingers at him.

“Holy shit,” Robin says, startling Steve. “I thought you said your crush was hopeless.”

Steve just shrugs. “It’s Eddie, he flirts with everyone.”

“Not like that.”

Steve pauses and thinks back on their conversation and all the flirtatious banter leading up to this moment. Maybe she’s right, but also he remembers… “Did you know that bubble wrap was invented by accident?”

Robin runs a hand over her face and says, “You two are going to be the death of me, I can already tell.”

Steve just smiles and thinks maybe they will be.

-:-:-:-:-:-

A few hours later, he shows up at Eddie’s, trying not to overthink things too much.

They were just hanging out. Just… two people… hanging out… alone… who flirt all the time…. And one definitely has a major crush on the other.

Eddie opens the door to the trailer immediately after Steve knocks only a single time. “I heard your car pull up,” he explains as soon as the door is open.

“Been lingering at the door for long?” Steve teases.

“Hours,” Eddie replies dramatically. But there’s a hint of nervous energy that Steve can’t help but pick up on. “Come on in.”

Steve steps inside and is hit with the smell of spaghetti and breadsticks. “Did you make dinner?”

“Nah, I picked it up from Enzo’s,” Eddie says with a smile before closing the door behind him and gesturing to the couch where two plates are laid out. “I thought we could… watch a movie while we ate or… something.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Steve replies with a smile, noticing the way his response relieves some of the nervous energy that is consuming Eddie.

“Perfect, right this way madam,” he jokes as he leads Steve to the couch with his hand resting on the dip of his lower back.

Steve sits down and can’t help but ask, “So, what fun fact did you make me wait for?”

Eddie freezes and curses, “Shit, you were supposed to ask that after all of this.”

Steve’s eyebrows furrow. “Why?” He asks nervously.

Eddie fidgets with his rings and mumbles, “Okay, you can do it.” Then, he turns back to Steve and says, “Fun fact… I’ve been dying to ask you out for a while now, and… I was hoping that this could be a date? And further fun fact, I will absolutely shut up forever if I read things wrong, and I’m so sorry if I did. Oh shit. Did I? Because really, I thought-”

“Eddie,” Steve interrupts him quickly, placing a hand over his. “I think it’s finally time that I share a fun fact with you.”

Eddie nods, eyes wide and scared.

“Fun fact,” Steve says and takes a deep breath, “I’m really upset that you beat me to asking you out because I’m a damn chicken. And fun fact, I’ve liked you since I saw you interacting with Dustin for the first time. And you can confirm the fact with Robin who I told while I thought I was on my deathbed.”

Eddie’s expression slowly morphs from fear to relief to happiness. “And that’s really all a fact?”

“Yes. Fun ones I hope.”

“Very very fun,” Eddie says with a laugh. He worries his bottom lip before saying, “Fun fact, I really want to kiss you.”

“Fun fact,” Steve echoes cheesily. “I would love to kiss you.”

And he does exactly that.

(Later on, Steve calls Robin from Eddie’s house and yells, “Fun fact, I just kissed Eddie!” Into the phone so loudly that Robin complains that his “fun fact” is giving her ear damage. But she also lets him know that she’s happy for him, as long as he doesn’t keeps phrasing everything as a fun fact.

Only, Steve can’t help it, when everything involving Eddie becomes the best facts he knows.)

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet