#he's incompetent but he's hot so it's okay

[last-starry-sky]

Simon constantly teases you about how short/small you are. It upsets you, makes you feel singled out, weak, incompetent. Turns out he’s just dying to know how well you can fit him, how big his cock would look next to your hands and feet. Won’t shut up about it during sex either. A dash of mean Simon + his untapped size kink

eeeeee im gonnafuckining explode OKAY FOR REAL I WAS DYING WHEN I SAW THIS. thank u, beautiful, patient anon, for blessing me with this prompt!! I hope I did it justice!

ghost x petite!f!military!reader

(MDNI - NSFW uhhhh grossly inaccurate military stuff, creeper, bully simon :), i’m using “petite” as in “shorter and smaller than the average woman” trying to keep everything as open and vague as possible, oral, deep throating, ghost has a raging size kink, unprotected piv, also this is LONG (5.6k) 💀 i'm sorry!!! skip to the end for smut if that's all you want!❤️) 

It’s been the same fucking comments from your lieutenant all week. Day in, day out and it’s starting to wear a sore spot into your hardened skin. 

“Muzzle up. Arms tired already? ‘s a big rifle for someone your size to carry.”

“Keep pace with the group. Your short legs aren’t their problem.”

“Shoulders back! Chest out! Some’ve y’ need all the height you can get!”

All you can do is grit out a “yes, sir” or “no, sir” and push yourself even harder to keep up with the taller and stronger men and women around you. The massive Brit in charge is running your training group. While you expected this to be hard (your CO hadn’t been mincing words when he pitched it as “advanced”) but you never expected this. 

First of all, from the very beginning, he seemed to have a problem with you. Only you. There were a handful of women in the group, but you were unfortunately the shortest and smallest. Not that it bothered you. You’d spent your whole life this size. You were used to it. It was everyone else, especially the wanna-be, alpha males that flocked to the military like flies, that gave you grief over it.

The second you all lined up off the transport, you could feel his eyes on you. You tried not to stare back while the other Brit, Captain Price, gave a short introductory talk. You hadn’t heard a word of it. He stood there, flanking the captain, in a black, skin tight t shirt, with his obscenely muscled arms crossed over his ridiculously broad chest. A buzzing filled your ears as his black eyes bored into you. His stare so hot and heavy it made you sweat. His eyes were all of his face that he left uncovered, the rest was hidden by a skull mask and balaclava. You tried to ignore him, but you swore you saw the ink on his arm flexing as the captain introduced him: Lt. Ghost.

From the first training exercise, a simple one on one spar, he pulled you of all people from the women’s group to demonstrate on. What could you do? Refuse? He had at least a foot and close to one hundred pounds of muscle on you. You tried not to shake as you squared up at the opposite end of the mat. 

He told you to rush him, to “show him what you got”. Well, you tried. Once he gave signal to start, all you could do was try to fake him out. You ran at him before quickly darting to the side, trying to get behind him using your short stature to your advantage. Unfortunately for you, he was crazy agile for a large guy. He pivoted on his foot, watching you as you tried to fade to his left. You steeled yourself when he caged you in his arms, sweeping your feet off the mat. Your world was a blur until he slammed you roughly down onto the mat. Your breath was knocked from you, your vision spinning. You heard the crowd around you let out a collective “OH”. It took you a moment to realize he had you pinned. Your legs and hands held painfully down with his own. 

“‘sat all y’ got? Givin’ up already?” he grunted out with a gravely laugh while he stared down at you. He leaned down until his chest was pressed to yours, that stupid mask just grazing your face. “Or y’ got some fight left in y’? 

Hell yeah you still had some fight in you. You managed to slip out one leg from under him, jamming your knee quickly into his side. A kidney hit was dirty, you knew that. You wouldn’t dream of doing it in a normal spar, against an evenly matched partner, but he deserved it for picking on you; for picking a woman when he could have easily dominated any of the men in the room. He reacted exactly as you expected: crumpling forward in pain. You didn’t waste a second pulling your hands and legs from his grip. Another cry rang out from the crowd when you rolled out from under him, ready to jump on his back and make the pin.

“Olright, olright,” he said rubbing at his side, sitting up with a grunt before you could pin him. “I yield, y’ cheatin’ lil’ git. Next up.” 

He pointed at one of the other soldiers to come forward and take your place. The man gave you a fist bump as you left the mat and you told him “good luck”. You knew he would need it. When you turned around you saw that Ghost’s gaze had never left you. 

-

You walked back to base on Friday with your blood boiling, failure weighing heavy on your psyche after a long, hot afternoon of sniper training. You had given all you could; had put up with extra hard, extra long training, with comment after comment about your size and strength. 

Shorty. Shrimp. Rifle looks like it weights more than you. Gonna manage that?

Up early, in late everyday, almost too tired to eat and shower by the end. You had a mind to march right into Price’s office and tell him you were leaving that night. You’d made it a week, that was good enough for you. You would rather face hell from your CO back home than endure another hour of this. The second you sat down on your bunk, however, you passed out.

The exhaustion must have snapped something in your brain. You woke up a few hours later groggy and sweaty, your bunk mate snoring away. You were half on your bed with your feet still in your boots. You rolled onto your back with a groan, wiping the dried tears and dust from your cheeks. 

You let your weak arms fall over your face. You felt pathetic. You honestly wanted to just lay on your thin mattress and cry in the dark until the day started. Another day of enduring that British cunt with a superiority complex calling you short and weak, of singling you out in front of your peers, of making you question your career up to this point. He was eroding the very core of your person at this point, and you didn’t know how much long you could take it. 

You let out a sigh and, with more than a little effort, pull your sore, battered body out of bed. What you really needed was to shower, to think this out, and then find Captain Price to talk. No good would come from rushing into a decision in this state. 

You enjoyed your shower. It was nice to have all of the hot water and the whole communal space to yourself. You took your time getting dressed back into your rumbled clothes in the empty locker room. Nothing but the sound of dripping water echoing off the tile around you. 

Leaving the showers, you looked up and down the bare corridors, only enough of the overhead fluorescents left on to avoid a safety hazard. Your hair dripped onto your shoulders while you stood in the center of the hall. Price’s office had to be somewhere around here.

You wandered out of the barracks, down hall after hall of the same, painted block walls and plain tile floors, until you started seeing name plates posted haphazardly on the wooden doors. Your eyes wandered from door to door until you found what you were looking for: a sheet of 8.5x11 paper taped crookedly outside an office with Cpt. Price scrawled across the middle.

You let out a sigh of relief as you brought up your hand to knock on the door. It was almost over. The captain seemed like a reasonable man. He would surely be willing to listen to you, maybe give you some sound advice on whether you were actually cut out for this level of training. Before your hand could land on the door, a gloved hand came out from the shadows of the hall in front of you to rest above yours.

“What’re you doin’ here?” he whispered harshly.

You didn’t even need to look up to know who it was. You closed your eyes in annoyance, balling your hands at your sides. Of fucking course he was here. Right at the last hurdle. Right before you could seek relief from a superior, his superior too. You let out a long breath through your nose before you opened your eyes to face him.

“I came to talk to Captain-” you started speaking with a wavering voice before he cut you off.

“Not in. Not yet, at least. Had a long night.” 

He leaned against the door, starting down at you again. God, he fucking annoyed you. You’d never had a CO that frayed at your nerves like he did. How dare he come off so cool, gripping his oversized biceps with his stupid skeleton gloves. 

You stepped back from the door. “I’ll come back when he’s in then. Sorry-”

“Can help you if you need somethin’” he interrupted you again, casually canting his hips forward, moving his hand to the door handle. 

You shook you head. While you really wanted to give him a piece of your mind, you would prefer not ending this with a disciplinary, so you bit your tongue. 

“I don’t need anything from you,” you answered with just a bit of venom.

He heard it, you were sure of it. He clicked the door open, letting it fall open to reveal the dark room inside. 

“No. I think you do, small-stuff.” When you didn’t make a move, just let another angry breath out your nose and furrow your brow deeper, he shifted to the side and pointed inside the room. “In. Now. That’s an order.”

You clenched your teeth and did as you were told. Not that you had an option now. 

-

You walked up to the desk at the back of the room. Price sure did keep his office in a state. Papers and folders were piled across his desk. A landline phone and old desktop computer were shoved to either corner of the desk. More folders and binders piled over the keyboard and hid the keypad of the phone. You heard Ghost’s boots squeak lightly on the tile behind you, then the door shut with a click. Another, soft click followed. He flipped the light switch, illuminating the spot right above you with hazy, yellow light. 

You turned to face the man who’d gone out of his way to made himself your nemesis for the past week. He silently sauntered up to you, stopping behind one of the chairs in front of the desk. You crossed your arms defensively over your chest and tried to make your face placid while he pulled the chair out. He took a seat, well, he tried too. He could barely fit his massive fame in the little chair. It groaned underneath him as he mirrored your pose, arms crossed and legs spread. 

You sat silently staring at each other before he asked, “Well?” with a roll of his shoulders. 

You picked over your words, trying to detangle everything you had thought up in the shower. Ghost bouncing his knee pulled you back to reality. It was like the threatening hiss of a rattlesnake's tail. Better to just get it out than keep him waiting.

“Do you have a problem with me?” you squeaked out, eyes on you boots. The direct route it was, then. 

“What?” he asked, confused.

You looked up at him, exhausted, eyes pleading. “Look, I know I’m short and not as strong as the other guys . . . especially the guys, but the way you talk to me-”

“Don’t have a problem with y’,” he said throwing his arm across the back of the chair, readjusting while he raked his eyes up and down your frumpy form. Probably looking for something to complain about. “If’m bein’ honest-” he started before cutting himself off and turning his head. 

You uncrossed your arms, letting them fall to your sides. “What . . .” you questioned, gesturing with your hands in front of you. “Then why do you-”

He jiggled his knee a few more times before turning back to face you. “Little thing like you,” he said darkly, so deep and low you almost didn’t hear it. He clenched his fingers on his pants as he cleared his throat. “You keep up with the rest’ve ‘em well enough. Ain’t got a problem.”

“Little thing,” you whispered, repeating him sarcastically. 

Ghost groaned at that. Honest to god groaned in front of you, sending a shiver up your spine. You froze as his heavy eyes found their way back to you. 

“Yeah. You sure are,” he said scraping his fingers down his pants. “Spunky, too. Used t’ fightin’ for your place. Like that. Makes me wonder-” he trailed off as his large eyes wandered down from your face to your chest. 

You were shocked. No way. You had to be misinterpreting this. Maybe you were still sunstroked from yesterday, because there was no way you were reading him correctly. 

“Wonder what?” you piped, blush pinching at your cheeks.

“Wonder . . .” he said rocking his head back and forth, trying to tie a sentence together. “Wonder if y’ can be sweet, too.” He let you stew in wide-eyed disbelief for a moment as he gestured at you. “Wonder what you look like underneath all that.” Your stomach clenched as he tilted his hips forward, spreading his legs wider, to palm is cock through his pants. “Wonder if it matches what I’ve imagined.”

You would be lying if it was just your stomach clenching after that shameless display.

It was crazy how it all made sense now. The constant attention. The names. You thought he was being overly hard on you, picking at you, trying to get you to drop out. You rubbed a hand over your heated face. He was a grown man (a large one, too) that was acting like a little boy with a worm on a stick, chasing the girl he liked around the playground. You thought he hated you and all this time he was actually getting off to you. You felt like an absolute moron. 

“Doesn’t have t’ leave this room. If you’re interested,” he said in that deep gravel, still trying to keep himself together. 

You let him sit in silence for a long, tortuous, moment. 

“And if I’m not?” you finally asked. 

He nodded to the door behind him with his head. “Then leave. Talk t’ Price in the morning. No harm.”

“No foul,” you finished his phrase, running your fingers over your bottom lip. 

Silence hung between you for a hot moment in the cold, stale air of the office. You had a hard time believing he would just let you go at this point. Not that you planned to, the danger intrigued you too much to walk away. This line of work had made you a wholly different animal, it’s why you were here. You ran into war zones, battlefields, hostage negotiations, the places others couldn’t run out of fast enough. You’d been dealing with the people that most couldn’t stomach, the ones that couldn’t function in civilian society, for so long that they had worn a place under your skin. This lieutenant, Ghost, he had been in this just as long, if not longer, than you. He had to feel the same. Fuck, he had be worse.     

“What . . . what do you want?” you finally managed to ramble out. 

He let out a rough hum of satisfaction. You hated how you responded to it. You rolled your thighs together and, fuck, you were wet. You let out a small, shuddering breath. You’d gone a week with no praise, no kindness, and now here he was, the big, bully Brit who’d made your life hell practically purring over you. 

He trained his hungry eyes on you and motioned up with a flick of his fingers. “Wanna see ‘em. Don’t even have’t take your shirt off.”

A part of you wondered if this was all a trick as you slowly rucked your t shirt up to expose your stomach. That would track with how your week had gone so far. He was so blatant and open though, gripping the chair beneath him like he was about to launch out of it at a moment’s notice. He groaned as you pulled your shirt up to reveal your plain black sports bra. It was nothing special, standard issue, but it kept you strapped down. Not that you really had all that much to contain. 

He ran his hand over (what you assumed) was his mouth under the balaclava. He waited a moment for you to continue before urging you forward. 

“Come on, love. Don’t get shy. Wanna see ‘em.”

You slipped your fingers underneath the wide band at the bottom, hesitating only a moment before you pulled everything, shirt included, up over your head. You stared down at your chest while you balled your clothes in your hands.

“Not much to see,” you whispered, watching your nipples perk and skin pucker under the AC.

“Fuckin’ hell” was all he said. You dared to look up. “Fuck,” he continued, “Fuckin’ . . . get over’ere. Just fuckin’ dyin’ t’ get my hands on you.”

You dropped your clothes on the floor, closing the few steps between you quickly before falling forward into his grasp. You weren’t sure if you were ready for what this desperate, mountain of a man was about to unleash on you, but fuck did it excite you. Once he had you between his legs, gloved hands scraping up your back and around your waist, testing his fingers as he held you, but he didn’t do anything but look. He stared at you like you were made of glass. 

You stared at him, too. You hadn’t been this close since he’d pinned you on the first day, and you were pretty sure you’d been half-concussed then. You could see where he had eye black painted carefully around his eyes to fill the holes in his mask. You could see his long eyelashes, clumped together with that same oily black paint. It made the whites of his eyes stand out vibrantly. His large dark irises darted back and forth over your chest. You wondered what he was planning, what he was thinking. 

He didn’t leave you wondering for long. He pressed you forward, mouthing at your nipple through the mask. You let out a short whine, pussy clenching as his large hands kneaded at your waist. The feeling was like nothing you’d felt before. The fabric between you muted the translation between his actions and your pleasure. You could feel how eagerly he bit and sucked at you, but you were denied half of it. It made you dig your fingers into his shoulders in frustration.

“Want more?” he said haggardly, pulling off of you. He tugged at your belt, not waiting for an answer. “Then get these off.”

You did your best to undo your belt and pants despite your shaking and moaning while he dove back in, working harder at your other nipple. Once you’d dropped your pants down to your ankles he pulled you forward to step out of them, wedging you into the spread of his legs. You toed out of your shoes and then he kicked everything behind you, your boots banging loudly against the steel desk. You heard papers shift and fall, but couldn’t find a reason to care. He held you, running his gloved hands over your exposed skin while you shivered in font of him in nothing but your panties. 

He palmed his cock again before fumbling around to find his belt. You heard him click it open, the metal jangling as it went slack. 

“On your knees,” he ordered breathlessly. “Wan’ see what that little mouth can do with this.” 

You complied immediately, viciously curious as to what he was packing. If the tent in his pants was any indication, you had your work cut out for you. He popped open the button of his fly and then slowly unzipped. You couldn’t see anymore through his briefs than you had in his pants, but still, you leaned forward. You curled your hands on your knees, biting your lip, willing him to give you permission. 

“Go ahead,” he said giving himself one lazy, squeezing pump.

You put your hands on his inner thighs, right above his knees, testing the waters. When he didn’t say anything, you slid your hands up his legs, a soft, swishing sound following. You stopped at his crotch, pulling yourself forward before tentatively, gently, smoothing up his clothed cock. 

He groaned, covering your hand with his, forcing you to grip his girth. Your thumb just barely met your ring finger. 

“Fuckin’-” was all he could get out before pulling your hand off. 

He used his other hand to pull his dick out before pressing your hand to his hard, burning length. You gave him another pump, feeling how the skin stretched beneath your hand, then squeezing to feel how goddamn rigid he was. The tip of his cock made your mouth water. 

It was crazy. On you knees in front of him like this, you weren’t a competent soldier, a woman who held herself with poise and respect in front of her colleagues. He wasn’t an expertly trained, battle-hardened, special operative of the British Army. You were both human. Both hungry. 

You tipped his cock toward you to lap at the underside of the head. You met his eyes just as you closed your mouth around him, sucking the salt from his slit. He shut his eyes with a groan, letting his head fall back for a moment as he reached his hand up to grip at your skull. He opened his eyes to watch as he slowly bobbed your head down his cock. 

He gripped himself at the base, forcing your mouth to take him until you met his fingers. You did. Just barely, gagging as his head slid against the roof of your mouth to the soft palate at the back of your throat. He didn’t let you pull back. Instead, he traced the inside of your lips with his thumb, drool coating his black gloves.

“Lookit’ that,” he groaned as your throat pulsed and burned around him. “Little thing takes it all s’fuckin’ well.”

He let go of your head, letting you pull off of his cock. You stared at it with heavy eyes as your head spun from lack of oxygen, it glistened with your spit in the harsh light. He gave himself another languid stroke, watching you force air into your lungs while you sat practically naked on the floor between his knees. 

“Think you can take it in that little cunt a’yours like that?” he asked, stopping his stroke at the head.

You bit your bottom lip as you looked up at him. You gave him a slow nod. Any fear or paranoia you had before was long evaporated. You were wet, horny, needy. You needed him to give you something, and if he was going to give you a choice, you could do worse than getting railed until you couldn’t remember your name. You clenched, hands clawing at your thighs, as you watched him pump another stroke up that monster cock of his in front of your face before grunting out his order.

“Get up then. Against the desk.”

You scrambled up to your feet. He followed you, rising quickly from his chair to tower over you, pressing you backwards into the steel desk. Your hands reached out for purchase as he roughly gripped your thighs, throwing you on top of Price’s paper-laden desk. Folders and binders clattered to the floor, papers swirling across the tile as he shoved you down, ass right on the edge. 

He stood between your legs, hips flush to yours, his cock laying across your standard issue panties like a weapon. He pressed the weight of it against your skin with a groan, head spreading precum into your stomach. Quicker than you realized, he reached behind his back, coming back with a knife. It was almost invisible palmed in his large hand, only the tip of the blade winked from the tip of his thumb. With two quick flicks, he cut up the side of your underwear. He slid the knife back to wherever he had taken it from, like it was the most normal thing in the world, before pulling the now useless scrap of fabric from between the press of your bodies. 

He held the scrap of fabric in his hand for a minute, investigating it under the light before tossing it to the floor.

“Really are beggin’ for it, eh?” He said sliding his cock up the seam of your pussy. His easy, fluid movements as he rocked against you answered for you. “Fuckin’ wet just from that?”

You nodded, lacing your legs around his hips, trying to pull him closer. He pressed his hand into your stomach in response, squishing you against the desk hard enough to make you squirm. He pulled away enough to notch the head of his cock at your entrance.

“Needy little fuckin’ thing,” he said with a punch of his hips, nails biting into the soft skin of your stomach as his tip danced perilously on the edge of holding inside you. “Want it so fuckin’ bad? Want this inside y’?” 

He took himself in hand and watched as he pushed inside. You both groaned. You let your head fall against the desk with a dull thunk, eyes shut and legs shaking as he pushed deeper and deeper inside your slick hole. 

“Fuck.” He was breathless for the first time since you had met him. “Fuck are y’ tight. So fuckin’ small. Even gonna fit it all?” He rambled to himself as he took hold of your hips and watched himself fuck slowly in and out of you; hypnotized by the clutch of your greedy pussy pulling him in, resisting as he pulled out. 

You let out a small cry of frustration, tears pricking around your eyes. He was big, but that wasn’t the problem. You had taken your share of dick, you could take him. It was killing you how slow he was. He was lost in his own world, watching his cock slid in and out of you as you lay there silently begging for him to just fuck you already. 

“Quiet,” he whispered with a half-hearted harshness, hand trailing down to your pussy. 

You almost jumped as he began to rub a wide circle around your clit. Your slick barely dulled the rough texture of his glove. You shuddered, clenching around him, whining as he found a rhythm with his thumb and cock. Your clench punched the breath out of him. He fell over you, bracing himself with his arm. You could hear the hollow sound of his breaths behind his mask as he gave up trying to pump into your vice of a pussy. 

He nuzzled the cold plastic of his mask against your ear. “Not gonna’ last long doin’ shit like that,” he grumbled. He held himself up, pulling your face to look at him with a hand under your jaw. “Wha’d’y want?” 

You stared back at him with confusion. 

“Where d’y want it?” he clarified.

If you had a brain cell still functioning, you would have told him to pull out. It was the safer of the options he was giving you. 

But you didn’t. You moaned out, “Fuck. Inside me. Please,” like the absolute whore you had become once he’d whipped his cock out. 

Not one to question, apparently, Ghost was back in position the moment he heard you. He pulled your hips back to meet his, cock punching all the way in until you winced as the head hit your cervix. He took hold of one of your legs, hand running up the length of it, positioning it until it lay unfolded up his chest. He gripped his fingers around your ankle, starting at it as his other hand squeezed your waist.

“Lookit, fuck. Lookit that,” he said as he pistoned into you. You cut off the loud moan that he punched out of you. The change in angle was . . god it was like nothing you’d had before.  

“Like that?” he said, letting your foot dangle on his shoulder while he held your waist with both hands, driving into you mercilessly. 

If you could have answered, you would have spoke truthfully. You were sure. You would have moaned about how good it was, how he was so big and filled you so well. As it was, his powerful thrusts jarred you against the cool metal of the desk too much to do anything more than moan and hold on as more papers flooded the floor. 

“Got y’self off at all this week?” he asked, panting breathlessly.

You shook your head, a small whine of anticipation falling form your lips at the thought.

“Gonna nut just thinkin’ about you cummin’ on my cock,” he mumbled, trailing his hand back to your clit.

You let out a sad whine, bucking into his thrust as he touched you. You were close. So fucking close.

He began to circle your clit like before, finding that delicious rhythm with the pound of his hips that pulled you higher and higher, tighter and tighter, until dazzling sparks lit up your core. You reeled back with a cry, clenching his cock, arching as he worked you through your peak. 

His hand ripped away from you sooner than you’d like. He fell over you, both hands biting into the skin of your hips as he pounded into you as your pussy pulsed, any semblance of cadence or love-making gone as he chased his own high. You dug your fingers into his t shirt. The sweat drenched fabric was almost too slippery to hold on to. 

“Fuck! Too fuckin’ hot ‘n, fuck, tight. Fuck, ‘m gonna-” His weak series of sighs and groans, followed by the distinct feeling of his cock flaring inside you told you what he couldn’t.

He lay over you for a moment, panting as you both caught your breaths. You wondered if he was also stewing in the monumental realization of what the fuck you had both just done. You’d just broken so many rules. So much was at stake. He’d just cum inside a subordinate on his bosses desk, and you didn’t work for the same country. This was going to be a mess. You were sure of it. 

He pulled away from you, pulling himself out with a smothered whine. You crossed your hands over your middle as you watch him zip back up and adjust his mask. It was wild how he was back to normal within seconds. You half expected him to walk out the door and just leave you here like this. At least all of your clothes were here, save your sliced up panties. 

But he didn’t leave. He held out a hand to you, only letting you stare at it dumbly for a minute before he flicked his fingers toward himself, urging you to act. You took his hand and he pulled you up easily. He even let you slump against him after you sat up. You’d forgotten how tired a good lay made you.

Again, you expected him to leave you now that you were conscious and able to dress yourself, maybe leave you with a heavy warning (read: threat) to not talk about this. As you tried to shuffle to the side to try and get off the desk, he stopped you. His hands gripped both of your shoulders suddenly.

“The fuck y’ doin’?” he said, forcing you back in front of him.  

“Getting . . . dressed?” you answered with unease. 

“Funny,” he said with a single, dry, laugh. “You’re a funny lil’ thing, too.”

His hands skimmed down your sides before quickly seizing you by the hips, throwing you over his shoulder like a backpack. You gasped as your stomach landed on his solid shoulder, punching the air from your lungs.

“Think we’re done already?” he said, turning around. 

You watched as the desk, and the messy you had made on and around it, including your scattered clothing, circled back into view, then slipped away. He palmed a whole cheek of your ass in one hand, spreading you open enough for cold air to chill your leaking core, as he stalked toward the door. He probed a finger into your pussy, swirling the cum you felt leaking out across your folds. 

“Got a whole day off, y’know,” he said matter-of-factly as he opened the door. Completely ignoring that he had a naked woman slung over his shoulder like a caveman. “Think we should go back to mine. Relax. See what else that little cunt’ve yours can take.”

#mw2 #ghost/reader #ghost x reader #call of duty #cod fanfic #cod mw2 #starry writes #asks #anon #now to move on to ch 4 of the graves thing woooo

[woodenanemone]

choso was a full-grown man.

a man who takes cares of his brothers, is employed, and pays his taxes. a man who can share his ideas and his thoughts with professionalism and skill. a man who can admit when he’s wrong, who can let his resentment go for the better.

so imagine his confusion when he acts like nothing but a developing teenager when you were around him.

he truly felt like his body had relapsed back to puberty. he can’t control his sweat around you, he’s switched his deodorant three times before finding something long lasting enough (although he barely spends more than a couple hours around you a day, if even that, and yet he still manages to produce so much sweat—). he can barely make eye contact with you without feeling his face grow hot (shooting down his neck, goodness, he has to fan at his face soon or he'll start sweating and he just showered for you—), a tremble in his hands, a trip in his words. the sentences that so ridiculously tumble out of his mouth are ineligible and humiliating, as if he forgot every single word he’s ever learned.

he talks to himself often.

whether it’s him walking on the way back home from your hangout, or when he’s alone at work, choso talks to himself. he walks alone and speaks your name out loud, a small awkward smile on his lips (even hearing the splendid name from his own throat dusts his cheeks pink.). he rants and analyzes how physically impossible it was for anyone to be as lovely as you. frustrated muttered outbursts of his incompetence around you. questions about if he was normal, if what he was feeling was normal (he concluded no.). these thoughts are too much to be confined within his mind, overflowing so much at the seams, he was afraid he would accidentally speak them aloud to you. so, he verbally lets them out when he’s alone, before his mouth gets the best of him. he never feels further from sanity when he talks to himself. but since it’s about you, well… it makes him feel better pretty quickly.

he writes about you.

talking to himself and thinking about you only helped him so much. he still feels a nervousness in his chest, needing to convey these feelings in some other form. so, he started scribbling little notes about you on napkins at restaurants and cafes, soon throwing them away; but he soon garners a deep hatred for this. anything that reminds him of you, anything at all, whether it be from his own hand or out in the world, has to be cherished. If not, what sort of insult is it to you? so, he buys a notebook. it’s a small one, black and dull, pocket sized so he can write about you whenever he so pleases. the first few entries are sloppy and messy, hurried so he could get the thought out before it slips his mind. but he soon grew a hatred for this as well. even thoughts written about you must be written with such a delicacy and care, even though you’ll never see it.

012324

When you look at me,

I forget that this world is capable of hatred and misery.

How could a being so light and pure,

Exist next to a miserable soul such as I?

the more i write about choso the less i feel i should be walking the streets as a free citizen. put me in a padded room, im not okay

#choso #choso fluff #choso kamo #choso kamo fluff #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x reader fluff #choso x reader #jjk #choso x reader fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x reader fluff #jjk drabbles #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen

[greentrickster]

Okay, so, been reading some good scumplane (OG!Shen Qingqiu/Airplane) lately, because in this house we support Airplane being loved by terrifying/terrifyingly hot men, but also, like... I do love Moshang just so so much as a ship.

And all this has awoken a mighty need in me.

A need for a Moshangjiu fic with scumplane getting established first and then bringing our favorite popsicle in on things.

Anyway, scenario! Shen Qingqiu starts noticing Shang Qinghua when they're disciples via the classic scenario of being smart enough to realize something is fishy about SQH being the only survivor of a demon attack, begins paying attention to his most anxious shidi, accidentally shows his most anxious shidi the simplest of Human Kindness, accidentally becomes shidi's favorite shixiong, accidentally becomes friends with shidi, accidentally catches feelings. Continues being a Sneaky Bastard in order to figure out what shidi is up to (and now also to confirm shidi is single).

Ah, shidi is entangled with an Ice Demon. This shixiong will make use of his scholarly peak's library to learn all and then decide to- wait. Wait, it's super violent by human standards, but is it- is this demon attempting to... court shidi?

...

Not if SQQ dates him first he's not!!!

There follows a whirlwind romance between SQQ and SQH where no one really knows what's going on, especially the two involved, it involves a lot of shit talking about everyone else in their lives, snacks, and accidental trauma bonding.

Also Airplane being Airplane and accidentally spilling that not only is he also kinda crushing (bad) on Mobei-jun, but also Mobei-jun's entire backstory and please, shixiong, I know it all looks bad but this shidi's house is literally the only place in the world it's completely safe for his king to sleep, everyone deserves to sleep without having to worry about their relatives murdering them for things that aren't their fault from time to time, right, shixiong???

Shen Qingqiu: ...goddammit, the demon's a fellow sad little meow meow. (only not in these exact words because he doesn't know these phrases, naturally)

In a wild, bold, and - dare I say it - shockingly sexy convolution of thought processes and ideas, SQQ manages to finagle SQH into letting him meet with MBJ (SQH nearly has a heart attack three times in the process but it's fine, it's cool, this is his life, this may as well happen, it's fine-).

SQQ: It has come to my attention that my shidi is spying for you on our sect.

MBJ: (glowering at SQH, who is cowering behind shixiong wondering how he got talked into all this)

SQQ: However it also appears that this is merely a cover story and the only thing you really do is use his room to nap. And also that you are quite fond of him.

SQH: (This is it, this is how I die. Again.)

MBJ: (...if I stare straight ahead and don't change my expression, no one will be able to tell that he's right)

SQQ: So anyway I think you should join Cang Qiong Mountain Sect.

MBJ: (gears grinding)

SQH: (squawking splutters of protest and confusion)

SQQ: (who speaks panicking!SQH at this point) Stop that, it's perfectly reasonable. He has the head disciple of our logistics peak under his thumb, it would be the simplest thing in the world for him to have you throw the sect into absolute chaos without even trying, then organize an attack, swoop in, and crush us all. He could have done it years ago, but he never has, he never even seems to initiate anything. I don't think he even cares about taking the Northern Throne, I think he's just incompetent about wanting to spend time with you. So he might as well just lie low until our shizuns ascend and then I'll take him on as a disciple on Qing Jing and you two can stop sneaking around like idiots.

MBJ: >8O

SQQ: Are you actually opposed?

MBJ: (folds arms and looks away sulkily, because like... it's true but you don't have to say it like that)

SQH: 8O ...reverse uno...

SQQ: What?

SQH: You're reverse unoing my blorbo!

SQQ: Quit making up word-

SQQ cannot continue because the System just presented the option to accept this potential new plot line (even if it does have the rather confusing title of 'Shidi Has Two Hands'), and holy shit, Mobei-jun seems to be potentially down for it, holy shit, apparently Mobei-jun actually likes me, holy shit, SQQ may have just solved all my problems-?!? This is great, this is fantastic, this is the best day of my life, this- is a long time I'm being allowed to be myself about all this, why is Shen shixiong not interrupting...?

Ah.

It is because I am kissing him full on the lips.

Cool cool cool.

At least I'm gonna die on a high note.

SQQ: O///O o_o (ahem) Shidi's- shidi's a really bad kisser.

SQH: Ah-haha, I can explain-

SQQ: We should work on that. Later.

SQH: (BEST DAY OF BOTH MY LIVES!!!)

MBJ: (I... did not actually hate watching that. Hm.)

Anyway, he agrees to the plan, SQQ and SQH start dating, some more time passes, the previous generation of peak lords ascend, the new generation take their places, and a week later Mobei-jun is an outer disciple of Qing Jing Peak.

The other peak lords are not amused, Qingqiu that is a demon, no.

SQQ: So what I'm hearing is that whole 'Cang Qiong will accept anyone from anywhere' philosophy was a lie then?

He's a demon!

SQQ: Children can't help where they're born. Now if you'll excuse me, I have classes to teach.

First lesson of the day is SQH and SQQ are a package deal, take it or leave it. Second lesson is no canoodling with Shang Shibo until you've finished with lessons and chores for the day. Third lesson is if you see any Bai Zhan disciples hassling our peak's disciples you can break their swords. Just snap 'em in half. Throw them off the peak. Don't kill them, but do make them cry.

SQH, meanwhile, has now seen MBJ in an outer disciple uniform and had a whole bunch of new awakenings on top of all the other things he already knew about himself.

And, in a twist of dramatic irony... Qing Jing's first disciple to ever have demonic heritage decides the dorms are a no-go after one night because, to him, they are broiling hot, how can anyone sleep in this heat, and chooses to go sleep in the wood shed instead.

#svsss #scum villian self saving system #moshang #scumplane #moshangjiu #shang qinghua #mobei jun #shen jiu #shen qingqiu #super fast and dirty outline to banish this plot bunny from my brain and inflict it on others instead

[virahaus]

Okay so I'm gonna say this cause I've just seen another post reiterating this narrative and I simply cannot comprehend the way people are going out of their way to make Tommy a villain when he's NOT.

First of all, the much discussed date.

It was clear that before Eddie and Marisol showed up Tommy was totally fine with Buck being a bit of a clueless baby bi and did not put it against him. He didn't say anything snarky to him, nor he questioned him being out or not, he teased and flirted with him even after the whole "I'm an ally" speech, which kudos to my man cause I couldn't have taken my date seriously if they said something like that.

It's clear that Tommy only took issues with the way the date was going after Buck made the horrible decision to say that they are going to pick up "hot chicks" and play it up like that.

Now, I don't think the issue here is Buck not saying he's on a date with him. It's clear by the way the dialogue has been constructed with all the hints about closet space and by Tommy's snarky line (which again VALID. He was not outing Buck. He was not trying in the slightest to do so. Eddie and Marisol are talking about closet space as in FURNITURE. To that for Eddie to take a leap and think that the closet is something more than it is, is frankly ridiculous. We know the double meaning because we are the audience. It's a joke for US, and for Buck only, not for Eddie who by the way was also clueless about Tommy's own sexuality);

The real problem was that Buck also shoved Tommy back in the closet. I don't think Tommy wanted Buck to announce there and there that they were on a date, especially after the whole convo and questions about being out in the workplace. It's an obvious hint to the fact that Buck is not out and it's reinforced by Buck also telling him that it's his first date with a dude. Season 7 Tommy hasn't been shown to be stupid or insensitive so it's obvious that he would have read between the lines.

So, it's clear that the issue here is that Tommy did not want to be shoved back into the closet, especially after years of unlearning bad behaviour and the journey to accept the fact he's gay. He doesn't offer it but he also doesn't want to be shoved back into a position where he has to deny he's gay. Which again, is super valid of him.

The moment most people try to use against Tommy is the fact that he cut off their date and left Buck alone outside the restaurant, which... Tommy had all the right to cut short their date. He was uncomfortable with how things were going and so he cut his losses. He's not rude or disrespectful, he even reiterates how he thinks Buck is adorable and in the same breath he also establishes his limits. Again, fair.

But some of y'all are acting as if he left Buck alone in the middle of the desert, not in fucking LA where Buck can call a cab anytime and go back home easily. Buck is not a kid, he's a grown ass man and can very well go back home alone. He's not drunk, nor under substance, he's not injured and he certainly can use his phone and call a cab.

You all have a thing about seeing Buck as completely incompetent, helpless and unable to take care of himself, and I must remind you that he's the same person who got out of his parents house and immediately took off and did a tour of the Americas, managed to live on his own, and was healthy and alive when he got to LA in season 1.

So you might want to remember that.

Another thing you all like to dangle over Tommy like "gotcha" kinda moment is the fact that in his past he was an asshole to Chin and Hen, some almost 10 years before what is being shown on screen now. It's clear that he's friends with Chim still and even if he did not keep in touch with Hen there's no animosity there either. In the flashback where he leaves the 118 Hen is the one to shove him face first into a cake. Do you think he would have taken it so well had they not been friendly? Or that Hen would have done that if she didn't think she could do so? It's already established in the flashbacks that they have worked through their issues and for you to demand Hen or Chim to be hostile with him rn or that he needs to "work for their friendship" it's simply madness.

The flashbacks already established him as having changed and being friends with both them and Bobby, since there's also a scene of them going out to a bar together and they all have fun together. For you to demand more without also having a Tommy Begins episode it's frankly ridiculous. He's not that important in Chim or Hen's lives as of now to need a further explanation but "they resolved their issues and there's that". And he was not obligated to come out to Hen at any time. You do not owe your sexuality to anyone.

Anyway. There's that. My big rant for some of the things I've seen since the break. If y'all liked this I might do more dissertations of the other out of pocket takes I've seen around. And my ask is also open if you want to ask my opinion on something

#tommy kinard #evan buckley #bucktommy #tevan #henrietta wilson #chimney han #howard chimney han #evan buck buckely #911 abc #911 fandom #911 show #911 spoilers #911 season 7 #hen wilson #eddie diaz #my post #911 speculation #911 #911 spec #911 s7

[victimsofyaoipoll]

Finals

Propaganda Under Cut

Sakura Haruno

Her husband is gay and her author doesn't know how to write women. So many people say she's the worst but she. DESERVES. BETTER!!! Save her from this franchise.

My baby girl my bestie my best friend. She committed the crime of um being written by kishimoto who both doesn’t know how to write women and somehow writes men in the gayest way possible specifically naruto and sasuke. Like the thing is naruto and sasuke ARE gay and also she gets so much hate for the crime of kishimoto writing her one dimensionally in love with sasuke. I know her personally she is a butch lesbian to me just trust me she’s in love with Ino and has a lesbian thing going on with Karin okay just trust me. My everything. She needs to divorce the loveless lavender marriage she’s in 

What is there to say, even? The OG Threat to my 90s anime brain, the only woman I've ever hated with such a passion she made me turn away from the color pink. I used to write fics with my friend where she got left behind on purpose so our OCs could join the Naruto and Sasuke team instead. I loathed this bitch until I was 16 and realized the author simply couldnt write women and decided it was time to make peace with Sakura. It is not her fault she's vaguely written and obsessive over Sasuke. She deserves better. Sasuke and Naruto still should be together and Sakura shouldnt be with Sasuke but I no longer believe this because I hate Sakura, it is because I love her. She deserves a spouse who will actually put in the time to treat her like the hero she is.

Misa Amane

she gets treated in-canon the way fandoms treat female characters that Threaten an m/m ship. it's like, "oh why don't you go sit in the corner and be pretty, misa, while the Men have intelligent conversation and pretend they aren't ten seconds from fucking each other, doesn't that sound nice?" it's infuriating. and MAYBE it's better now but i remember her getting treated the same way in fanfiction too, like we all need to do just as badly by our female secondary characters as fucking tsugumi ohba, but with the added insult of making her be alternately oblivious of the relationship between light and L or actively trying to sabotage it—incompetently, of course, because god forbid misa be allowed dignity or moments of cleverness.

she's one of the first characters I think of when I consider old school fandom misogyny. The annoying bitch and clingy crazy gf allegations were AFTER HER ASS. She's also a lot more intelligent than people gave her credit for, but most seem inclined to take the Very Biased word of our unreliable, narcissistic narrator and his homoerotic arch nemesis and claim that just because she's bubbly and into romance that she's also a complete moron. Which is blatantly untrue. Everyone was afraid of Misa girlbossing too hard. Killing people and devoting yourself to the deranged twink of your dreams even though you know he'll never love you back??? Having a hardcore goth aesthetic and being so Hot even literal Death Gods are into you?? God forbid women do ANYTHING!

Not only is she the victim of yaoi culture, she is the victim of early 2000s misogyny by an author that wanted to introduce a girl character because he knew his male rivals were getting too homoerotic. She is a goth bimbo icon who portrays what I think is one of the few callouts for stan culture and what parasocial relationships can do to both the stan and the idol. The fact that she is a toxic fan of Kira and also hot, funny, sociable is tragic in its own way, which I think the author did try to touch on but was too misogynistic too really get through. Of course, she was reduced to villain status by the fandom and anime alike because she got in the way of the supposed romance in their psychological horror anime

#poll #finals #sakura haruno #naruto #misa amane #misa misa #death note

[itsthestutterforme]

Reacher’s Cranky Girl (Jack Reacher Drabble)

Summary: Reacher finds out that his best girl was having a bad day.

Warnings/Notes: GIF is not mine, all mistakes are my own, reader is black, sneakylink!Reacher, sneakylink!reader, sexual themes (fingering, oral sex, over stimulation, bondage, slapping), MINORS DNI

**

You woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.

You couldn’t fall asleep until two in the morning so you only had five hours of sleep. You stepped in dog shit on the way to your car so you had to go back into your house to change your shoes.

Only for one of the heels to get stuck in a grate and tear off the back so you just settled for some flats.

You spilled your iced coffee on your silk shirt. At least it wasn’t hot because that would have sent you into a different kind of rampage.

When you finally get to work, your boss chewed your ass out because the printer froze in the middle of printing the investment proposal.

An investment proposal he needed for the board meeting this morning, which meant he either had to push the meeting to this afternoon or had to share the proposal digitally.

At this point, you were counting down the days so you can go home and spend the rest of the day rotting in your bed.

“Maybe I can call Reacher over here to help cheer you up,” your sister suggests, sitting in the chair in front of your desk.

“I’m not in the mood for teasing, Y/S/N.” “I’m not teasing you. I’m just saying that-“

“Not even Reacher can bring me out of this, okay? I just want to go home.”

“Y/N,” “I said leave it, Y/S/N.” You grumbled, shifting your attention back to computer.

“Okay, fine.” She says with full intention of calling Reacher anyway.

Your sister walks past the boss who was on the way to your office. He pops his head in the say, “Y/N, I need the updated spreadsheet ASAP.”

“On it,” “You’re still running point on the presentation, right?”

I thought you said I was incompetent.

“Sure thing. Did the board decide on a time tomorrow?” “Eight a.m.,”

“In that case, I’ll be in at seven thirty to prep.” He nods and gives a soft knock on the door before leaving.

Y/S/N closes the door of her office to call Reacher. He gave her his number when he found out the two of you were going to a concert in Philadelphia.

He knew you were the confrontational type and wouldn’t call anyone if you found yourself in trouble.

He wanted the er on the side of caution so he trusted your sister to let him know if anything happens.

Reacher was your sneaky link that wasn’t really that sneaky. He wasn’t easy to miss. He would walk into your place, fuck your face into the pillows, order the two of you some food, fuck your face into the pillows again then leave in the morning.

“Reacher,” he answers. “Hey, Reacher. It’s Y/S/N.”

“Is everything okay?” “Yeah, everything is fine. Um, when are you hanging out with Y/N next?”

“We didn’t really decide on a day this week,” Reacher states, unsure of where this conversation was going.

“Y/S/N, I’m sure you’re a great woman but I only have a thing for your sister and I’m a loyal man so..”

“Wow, that was not on my bingo card. I’m not trying to hit on you, Reacher. I’m asking if you can pick up Y/N from work today. She’s having a rough time.”

“Oh.. how rough are we talking?” “Like she’s about to bite the boss’ head off,”

“Okay, I’ll be there. What should I bring her?” “I trust your judgment, Reacher.”

With that, Y/S/N hung up and sat down at her desk leaving Reacher dumbfounded in Finlay’s living room while Neagley and David played video games.

“What’s with the face?” Finlay asks, handing him a beer. “What should I get a woman when she’s having a bad day?” Reacher asks everything in the room.

Neagley pauses the game and everyone slowly turning to Reacher who opened Google to find out the answer to his question.

He noticed the silence and looked up from his phone to meet their shocked expressions.

“What?” “You have a girlfriend*?” David questions.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he grumbles. “Then why do you care if she’s upset?” David retorts.

“Because it’s a nice thing to do for someone,” “Right, says the guy who breaks peoples faces for a living.” He presses the resume button on game.

**

As soon as the clock hit 5 o’clock, you gathered your things and sped walked out of your office. You practically ran into the stairwell when you heard an office door open.

You didn’t have any more energy to give to that god forsaken company today. You rush down seven floors until you reached the front door, inhaling deeply when the fresh spring air filled your lungs.

You heard someone to your right clearing their throat and immediately rolled your eyes. You were not in the mood to hear anyone’s cheesy pick up lines right now.

“Looks like someone’s cranky,” a familiar voice calls and you looked over to see Reacher leaning against his truck.

“Reacher?” You approached him with a confused expression. “Are you looking to invest something or..?” You trail off.

There was no way he was here for you, right?

“No. I’m not here to invest, peach.” He kicks off his car and closed the gap between you, towering over you in the process.

“Then why are you- I’m going to fucking kill her.” You seeth, turning to walk into the parking lot when Reacher stopped you.

“You want to know what sounds better than killing your sister?” he starts, slowly rubbing the sides of your arms.

Your eyes fluttered closed when his rough hands smoothed over your shoulders, humming in response.

“Some curry and sushi for dinner,”

That does sound really good.

“And my face between your thighs for dessert,”

God, that sounded even better.

“How does that sound, peach?” He questions as he continued rubbing your arms.

“Really good,”

“Good because Y/S/N already took your keys and drove your car home. Hop in.” Reacher suggests, opening the car door to hand you a Dunkin iced coffee.

**

“R-Reacher,” you groaned, twisting away from his eager tongue smoothing between your puffy folds.

He didn’t even wait until you were fully situated. Shutting the door, he took you in his arms and carried you into kitchen.

He set you on the counter and nudged you on your back. You gasped when he tore your pantyhose down your legs and lifted your skirt over your waist.

Pulling your panties to the side, he licks between your folds spearing your tight hole with the tip of his tongue.

“Oh my God,”

Shaking his head, he buries his face deeper in between your legs. He wraps his lips around your clit and sucked harshly on your sensitive nub.

He gathered your slick on his finger tips and sank two fingers into you, expertly thrusting upwards into your gspot causing your body to twitch.

He made it his mission to make you cum quick and hard.

“Mm, fuck.” You rolled your hips to match the thrusts of his fingers when he kitten licks your clit, sending you over the edge.

“I-I, fuck. I’m cumming, Reacher.” “Let it go, peach. Let me taste you.”

Your legs close around his head when your body trembles under the intensity of your orgasm.

A satisfied sigh left your lips when you came down from your high, your limp body was sprawled out on the counter.

He doesn’t slow his fingers and you could feel another orgasm building in your belly. He draws figure eights on your clit with his tongue, causing you to whine.

“Wait, I-“ you push his head away and tried to slide away from him but he pushed against your hand.

“Reacher,” you whimper, twisting your body away and covering your cunt so he would stop long enough for you to breathe.

“Move your hand. I’m not done yet.”

“I need a break,” you breathed out. “Move. Your. Hand. I’m not going to say it again.”

You don’t move fast enough for him and he threw you over your shoulder, smacking your ass hard as punishment. He didn’t care that you yelped out at the sharp sting.

Dropping you on the bed, he stripped down to his boxers.

“Strip,” he commands and you pulled off your clothes in record time.

You pressed your legs together when he approaches the bed when he pulls you closer by your ankles and flipped you on your stomach.

He placed a hand in between your shoulder blades to keep you in place. He straddled your legs and pulled your arms outstretched before tying your hands to the bed post with his belt.

Oh, you were in some deep shit now.

Moaning when you feel his hard cock against your ass cheek, he took your face into his hand and made you look straight back at him.

“You misunderstand, peach. The dinner was for you. The dessert was for me. I’m not going to stop until you’re crying and brainless.”

#black!reader #jack reacher x black!reader #jack reacher x reader #alan richardson

[gooppoo]

Can i pls get a hooooo yneyyyyyyyyy, lmao anyways i love ur work, and ur writing is straight up bomb. Can u pls write abt mean dads bsf jake? Like reader is innocent and quite young (over 18 obv)then jake.

dilf content? i may not be interpreting this right but uhm we need more dilf content on this blog.

Part 2

Daddy's best friend.

Requests Closed!

mdni.

warnings: age gap, dilf jakeeeee, use of daddy, he's being a little meanie, making out and getting touchy feely

"Are you crying right now?"

Sniffling, you quickly smeared away your tears.

"What could you possibly be crying about? Hm? Because you can't fucking aim right?"

"S-stop!" you wanted to fall to your knees and weep. Looking him in the eye made your stomach churn.

He groaned and stomped over, "Pick up your bow- pick it-" he grabbed the weapon from the ground and shoved it in your hands, "Quit it. Now."

There was a hard cutoff in his demeanor, the aura around him. His lengthy index finger fell under your pitiful chin and delicately shifted it upwards toward him. You noticed the way his brows were still dipped with frustration contrasting the empathy deep in his gaze.

"Honey..." he sighed and shook his head, "Let's get it together, I want you to know how to do this right. Do it right or do it twice, yeah?" Out of spite you avoided his ominous gaze until you couldn't hold yourself back anymore.

A wobbly, "Okay..." tumbled past your lips, and he was patting your shoulder assuringly with a rueful smile.

"Good, now c'mon."

Now your lesson had to essentially restart. You had to track another animal to hunt, wait long enough for Jake to give his spiel, and miss the shot again. It wasn't a mystery your patience and self-esteem were running thin. If you threw a big enough fit, you may just be able to aggravate Jake enough to send you back to your father where you could rub in his face how incompetent Jake really was as a Na'vi.

So you drug your feet, purposefully stepped on twigs and rustled leaves, even sneezed. Jake - not wanting to add more noise - would shoot threatening looks to warn you to stay silent. You didn't listen. And somehow you were crouched down in some tall grass with your bow drawn at an innocent creature.

"Tight-" Jake tapped your stomach, "Hold your breath if you need to," he whispered.

Gaging your line of sight, he brought his face to the mirroring side of your bow and stared down the end of your arrow.

He nodded, "'K, now!"

The creature's head popped up and swiveled to search it's surroundings. It's next breath was its last. This time you had purposefully planned to miss this shot, your resentment toward Jake greater than actually learning the skill, but the sound of the arrow lodging into the creature's body pierced through the painfully silent air.

Jake laughed dryly, relieved you had made your first kill, he pulled you to your feet. "Just like that baby," he tapped your underside and walked over to the animal.

But your body was stiff. Skin suddenly trickling with sweat. A foreign sensation swirling between your thighs that excited a part of you, you didn't know could be alive. A trace of Jake's hot fingers lingered obviously on your skin.

At your hunt, he ripped the arrow from the animal, "Get over here, you're not done yet." His orderly nature present in his tone.

It wasn't you dragging your feet toward Jake, though somehow you ended up next to him on the ground. In your peripherals a blur formed, giving you intense tunnel vision on Jake's mature fingers. The way he ran his fingers across the wood of the arrow, or caressed the carcass of your hunt, pointing out different aspect you were supposed to be paying attention to. Your hearing returned when those very fingers snapped in front of your eyes.

"Hey - you listening? Your dad wants you to know this stuff and I do too."

At this point, this had to be a joke. All the pieces were finally put together right here in this very moment and you realized Jake just wasn't a mentor or your dad's dumb friend. You recalled his flirty compliments and lingering hugs where his hand would dance up the length of your back, whispering about how much he cared about you - sometimes even kissing your cheek for way too long. He knew. Jake knew this was a prime opportunity to get you alone and see how far he could get before you were leaping at him. Smacking your ass was his sly way of saying it was all real.

When you didn't respond to his snapping or loose threats, he went as far as to grip your cheeks with his strong hands and force your stares together, "Listen to me. Look-" he pushed your face toward the animal.

But no amount of bitterness and sternness could cut through to you right now. It was time to confront the situation, so you smacked away his hand and watched him with doe-like eyes, an innocent and longing twinkle reflecting in the sun. His character clearly reflected shock.

You used the element of surprise and let your hands discover his chest. Your pupils shifted upward through your lashes to watch his demeanor contort, finding a sick power in this. Next you grabbed the arrow from his hand and tossed it aside, shifting him away from your kill to settle in his lap. Not once did he protest, and no signs of anger tickled his features. In fact, his hands settled onto your waist and he sunk his fingertips into your muscles.

"Oh..." he began to smile, "Is this why you've been giving me a hard time?" He sunk his teeth into his bottom lip and jerked you further up his lap, then cocked his head to the side and said, "'Cuz you shoulda said something sooner."

All the air in your chest felt like it was forced from your lungs and your throat closed to keep anymore out. Unconsciously, you wet your lips and let the natural magnetism between your beings draw you closer.

Just before your lips collided, Jake breathed, "Go easy on me sweetness, I'm not as young as you think I am."

Then there was a riot. Steam billowed from your ears and your face rose to one hundred degrees. Below your belly button arousal started as a low simmer and suddenly launched into a full boil. Your thighs clenched against Jake's waist and you eased him back against the ground. But this didn't last for long, because Jake had hold of both of your wrists and your back slamming against the ground faster than you could breathe.

His lips and tongue strayed from your own to explore your jaw and throat, "Nice try baby girl, maybe next time." A wet, steamy trail was traced from below your ear to your collar bone, and even then didn't stop until the garment covering your breasts forced him to stop.

Though he wanted to pause and spend time with your pretty, little tits, he couldn't ignore your squirming hips crying for friction.

A forceful hand crashed against your hip and kept it settled in the soil, "You're just dyin' for it, aren't ya?" an overly amused chuckle vibrated your skin, "Patience doll, I know how long you've been waiting.

Daddy will take care of it."

#avatar #avatar x reader #avatar smut #jake sully #jake sully smut #jake sully x reader #jake sully x y/n #jake sully x you

[roosterforme]

Two to Tango Part 1 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley isn't afraid of a little competition between the Naval aviators and Air Force pilots. And when you prove to be as good as you claimed, he refuses to back down.

Warnings: Adult banter, swearing

Length: 2800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This fic was written for a request! Thanks for reading! And please check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun.

"This is the worst fucking week of the whole goddamn year," Bradley muttered to Phoenix, Hangman, and Coyote as they stood on the blazing hot tarmac in southern Nevada. 

"Seven days of training with these assholes," Phoenix added, lowering her sunglasses to the tip of her nose and glaring at the four US Air Force pilots standing a few feet away.

"I love how Maverick told us we were lucky to be the four who were chosen, when honestly nobody wants to be here," Coyote complained, wiping his brow with the sleeve of his flight suit.

"Let's torch these losers and get back to San Diego," Hangman said with a devilish grin.

"Doubt any of them can even fly well enough to compete," Bradley said, eyeing up the pilot who just spun around to face him. 

"Excuse me?" you said, strolling confidently toward him with your chin in the air. "What did you just say?"

Bradley smirked. He didn't care if you were going to call him out; he and the other Naval aviators were the best, and he could back up his words any day of the week. Plus you were kind of cute, and getting you all flustered could be fun for him.

"We were just discussing your ineptitude. Well, not yours specifically, sweetheart. Just the general incompetence of Air Force aviators in general," Bradley said, and he heard his friends hooting with laughter around him.

He had expected you to blow up at him, but your placid smile was almost more alarming. "It's really cute, sweetheart, how you think you're better because you can land on a boat. When really, nobody gives a fuck about you at all," you stated calmly. 

Bradley would never admit that he was the one who was feeling flustered, so he just crossed his arms over his chest and said, "It takes real skill to land on an aircraft carrier. Runways are for amateurs," he said, inching closer to you.

"It's almost cute how stupid you are," you told him. "What's your dumb call sign?"

"Rooster," he told you, and you smirked. "What's yours?"

"Tango. As in you don't want to tango with me, sweetheart. So since you're running your mouth, why don't we make a little wager?" you asked, standing your ground as Bradley and his cohorts laughed at you. 

"What did you have in mind?" he asked.

"Two hundred bucks says Air Force ends the week with more points than Navy," you told him, glaring at him over your sunglasses. 

Bradley nodded slowly. "Okay, sounds good. But, if I end up with more points than you, you've gotta say something nice about me in front of everyone."

You chuckled. "And if I end up with more points than you, you'll be the one saying something oh so flattering about me."

Bradley stuck his right hand out and you took it in your smaller one. "Deal. Sweetheart," you told him before turning and stomping away in your boots, back to the other Air Force pilots.

"You've got nothing to worry about," Phoenix said, patting Bradley on the shoulder. "We're gonna smoke them."

--------------------------------------------------

The following morning, Bradley was awake at five and stretching. He'd have a full day of long distance running and obstacle course races ahead of him, and he was determined to take a massive lead in points right off the bat. No way he was going to lose money to a bunch of whiney Air Force pilots who wouldn't be able to cut it at Top Gun. 

He was the first one in the cafeteria, and he selected his breakfast very carefully, trying to get the maximum amount of calories he could. When he turned to find a seat, he saw you breeze into the room. Out of your flight suit, you looked hotter than hell, and Bradley almost dropped his tray of food.

"Morning, sweetheart," you crooned, barely glancing at him as you grabbed a bunch of random food. Your athletic pants were skin tight, and your matching shirt left very little to the imagination and showed off an inch of skin all the way around your waist. Your hair was pulled back showing off your neck and upper back, and Bradley was so mad at himself for picking a fight with you. Because now you automatically found him annoying, while he was thinking about how much he'd like to touch you.

You turned away from the food, leaving him in the dust while he stared at your ass. Now he was distracted. A distraction would be very bad. Especially when his reputation was on the line. "Fuck," he muttered.

He went to sit down at the table where you were already eating alone. "That seat's taken," you told him when he pulled out a chair. When he reached for the one next to it, you told him, "That one is, too." 

"Let me guess," he rasped, setting his tray down anyway. "They're all taken."

You smiled at him while you licked your lips. "You're not as dumb as you look."

Bradley just smirked and sat down directly across from you. "And you're not as sweet and friendly as you look," he said before shoving half of a breakfast sandwich into his mouth and chewing it up. 

"You think I look sweet?" you asked, leaned a little closer to him across the table. 

Bradley let his eyes dip down to your mouth and then your neck before sweeping back to your eyes. "I didn't mean it as a compliment."

Your smile never wavered. "That's fine, because I lied to you."

"About what?" he asked, eyes narrowed. 

"You are as dumb as you look," you told him, nodding at someone behind him. "The seats really are taken."

Bradley turned to see your Air Force teammates looking at him like he'd lost his mind. "You're sitting with us? You know this is a competition, right?" one of them asked.

"This asshole bothering you, Tango?" asked the biggest guy, and Bradley turned back to look at you, your face shining with mirth. 

"Nah, Killer," you replied, looking right at Bradley. "He's just a dumb pussycat. Couldn't hurt a fly." 

Bradley desperately wanted to keep teasing you, but not with company around. "Should I go then?" Bradley asked as he started to stand. 

"No, why don't you stay and get to know the guys. They aren't as sweet and friendly as I am, sweetheart," you told him, walking away without a backward glance. 

And then Bradley had to endure the most uncomfortable breakfast of his life. 

----------------------------

Bradley was two miles into the ten mile run, and he was feeling great. He was keeping pace with Hangman, saving as much energy as he could for the last mile. He ran side by side with Jake, neither of them talking. The sun was intense, and he had already soaked through his compression shorts and his US NAVY TOP GUN tee shirt. But he was determined to win. 

At mile six, you came out of nowhere and caught up with Bradley and Jake. 

"Hey, boys," you said casually. You barely sounded winded at all, and instead of pouring sweat, you looked as good as you had at breakfast. "You guys look a little warm," you said, taking in Bradley's sweaty form from head to toe. "See you at the finish."

Then you tore off ahead of them. Bradley was impressed and once again distracted by your ass. He tried his best to keep up, but it seemed like you kept gaining on him. 

"Damn. She's fast," Jake huffed next to him, and Bradley just grunted. "How much money did you bet?"

"Shit," Bradley gasped, trying to pick up the pace. 

-----------------------------

You had been waiting for him at the finish line, cheering him on by chanting "Rooster!" very loudly and looking like you'd barely broken a sweat. Meanwhile, Bradley had a horrible stitch in his side and was doubled over. He wasn't sure how he was going to manage doing the obstacle course after this, let alone try to beat you at it. 

"You okay, old man?" you asked, crouching down next to him and smirking. 

Bradley turned to look at you. "How old do you think I am?"

"Too old to beat me," you replied, shoving a water bottle in his face. "Drink up. It will be more fun for me to destroy you in the obstacle course if you're properly hydrated."

Then you walked away, and Bradley had to admit he kind of liked your smart mouth. 

Once the points were tallied after the ten mile run, the Air Force team was leading by a small margin. Bradley was angry as he confronted his teammates. "Okay, who dropped the ball?" he asked, eyeing Coyote with one eyebrow raised. 

"I'm not a runner! I'll destroy them on the obstacle course," Coyote promised, and Bradley knew he would. 

Bradley also knew he was exhausted while you looked like you were ready to tear up every obstacle in your way. "Yeah, Tango," the guys on your team all said, giving you high fives. 

It was one thing to be the best on the ground, but being the best in the air was where Bradley would shine. So he would try to get a good time on the course and then focus on the rest of the week. 

Everyone groaned when they got to the course after lunch. It looked like a mud pit that was now baking in the sun, and Bradley thought he would rather run another ten miles than have to do this shit. 

"Let's work as a team to start," Phoenix told the guys. "I am going to need help getting over the second and third walls quickly." So they came up with a game plan to boost Nat over the walls since she was much shorter than they were. Then she would have no trouble crawling under the ropes that came next. Each of them had their strengths, and they would stick together when they could.

Both teams lined up, and when the whistle was blown, they were off. Bradley watched out of the corner of his eye to see that the Air Force team went with the same game plan. They were boosting you over the wall at the same time Bradley was practically throwing Phoenix over. Then he used all of his upper body strength to pull himself up and over. The next few walls were taller, and Coyote had to have Phoenix practically stand on his shoulders so the guys could use her body to pull themselves up. 

"Fuck!" Phoenix yelled. "You weigh a shit ton, Bradley!"

"I'm sorry," he gasped, pulling her over the wall with him once he had reached the top. Then he reached down to give Hangman a hand to grab. 

Navy was pulling ahead of Air Force, but Bradley was determined to keep the lead. Now everyone was starting to work more independently, and he could see that you were ahead of him going through the tires. Bradley forced himself to move, shoving his larger form under the ropes and diving into the mud when necessary. 

Coyote, Phoenix and Hangman were all close behind him, and he tried to encourage them along. But when it came to the mile run back to the starting line, Bradley went full force. He was gaining on you now, each of his strides counting for two of yours. Pumping his arms and gasping for air as his chest and throat burned, he caught up to you just as you crossed the line.

"A tie!" the officer with the stopwatch said. "And the best course time this year!"

Bradley watched you walk in a circle before you bent in half with your hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath. Much less gracefully, he plopped down into more mud and rolled onto his back, baking in the sun and sucking in air. 

When he opened his eyes a few seconds later, you were making your way toward him with your hand outstretched. Bradley gave you a high five and let you help him to his feet.

"Impressive, old man," you told him. Bradley rolled his eyes as he stood, massaging the stitch in his side. 

"Yeah, well..." he started, just as he saw his teammates in the distance. "Age comes with experience."

You narrowed your eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Bradley just shrugged as he looked at you. "I'm just saying, it must be nice to win races because of age and stamina, but that has nothing to do with your flying."

Your eyes went wide and you took a step closer to him. "Listen up, sweetheart. I've worked my ass off to be the best. And you don't know anything about me or my experience. So why don't you stay in your own lane and watch me destroy you and everybody else." You were practically touching him now, seemingly just seething in your anger. 

Bradley's heart was pounding. You were covered in mud and yelling at him. And embarrassingly enough, he was kind of turned on. He didn't even mind you calling him old man. But now he felt a little bad about what he had said.

"Listen, I-"

But he was cut off by you planting your hand on his chest and pushing yourself away as your teammates and his all crossed the finish line in a large group. You raised your middle finger up behind your back and aimed it at him when you walked away.

"Shit," Bradley muttered. He hadn't meant to piss you off even more. Honestly, he liked you. You were smart and quick witted. Cute too. 

He was going to have to apologize when he had you alone again. Hopefully letting you call him old man for the rest of the week would help smooth over what he'd said. 

"We just barely beat their combined time," Coyote said, panting to catch his breath. 

Hangman was walking in circles chugging water while Phoenix patted Bradley on the shoulder. "I'm never letting you use me as a human rope again. That was painful," she said.

"I'm sorry, but at least we won this round," he told her. "We'll get up in the air tomorrow and kick their asses."

As everyone made their way back toward the locker rooms to get cleaned up before dinner, Bradley cut you off in front of the ladies' locker room door.

You planted both hands on your hips and looked up at him. "You lost, sweetheart? Mens' showers are that way." You nodded your head to the side where Coyote was disappearing through the door. You had a streak of dried mud running across your forehead, and your hair was an absolute mess. 

"No. Listen, I just wanted to apologize," he said, running his hand through his muddy hair. "I'm sure I came across as a bit of a sore loser when I insinuated that you lack experience in the air. You're right, I don't know anything about it. Sorry."

There was nobody else around as you closed the distance between your bodies and tipped your head up to keep your eyes on his. "Yesterday you called me incompetent. Today you called me inexperienced. What are you planning on calling me tomorrow?" you asked in a controlled voice, but your eyes were angry.

When Bradley didn't respond right away, you let your fingers rest on his abs before flattening your palm there. Slowly you dragged your hand up the front of his mud soaked shirt, teasing the hard planes of his body. Bradley didn't dare move as he watched your eyes which were focused on your own hand. He wanted to kiss you, but chances were you actually hated him and were just trying to get a rise out of him for your own entertainment. 

But when your hand traveled over his pecs and up around the scars on his neck, you stroked your thumb softly there. His pulse quickened as his dick throbbed. "Oh, so now you're quiet, old man? Gotta say, I like this version of you much better." 

Bradley didn't dare move as you pressed up onto your toes and kissed him hard, pushing your fingers up roughly into his messy hair. He wanted to turn you and push you up against the wall, press his hardening length against you and make you moan. 

But as soon as he had his hands on your hips, you pulled out of his grasp and slapped him lightly on the cheek. 

"Apology accepted. For now," you said, pointing at him as you turned to walk into the locker room. 

Bradley stood there for a moment in shock before he crept quietly into the men's room with a boner. 

-----------------------

Thanks for reading this one! It will be four parts total! And thanks for all of your help @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 2

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@callsigndiamond

@harper1666

@throwinsauce

@beebslebobs

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@monte-carlando

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@apparently-sunshine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@topgunbb

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@andycanbeemotional

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@starlightstories

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@high-bi-imgonnacry

@xoxabs88xox

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x female reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw imagine

[bouncybongfairy]

Here I Come

Simon (Ghost) Riley x Fem Reader Smut

Summary: Price gathers the task force for a surprise training session in the middle of the night. Practicing what to do if you're separated from the group and avoiding capture. You're about to find out how seriously Ghost takes his training.

Word Count: 1.0k+

Ref Account: @kaionyx

TW: Rough Smut, Stalking kink, Humiliation, Degradation, Piss Kink, Sex in Forest, Masochistic Ghost.

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

The task force was sluggishly walking outside, Price ordered everyone up at 1am for a training exercise. You were especially tired, only sleeping about three hours before getting up. Not to mention it was freezing, it wasn’t snowing anymore but there was a thick layer of it covering the ground. The group was silent, nobody in a chatty mood. Ghost was especially in a mood, the two of you haven't talked in a couple days. The last hook up you had was really intense, making you question the ability to maintain casual fucking without getting attached. Ever since then you’d avoided him, which was hard considering your rooms were right across from each other. You could tell he was getting frustrated with you doing this.

“Glad to see y'all aren’t incompetent and can follow simple instructions!” Price greeted everyone before continuing, “Today’s training is on avoiding capture if separated from the group. I’ll be splitting you into teams of two: one will be the assailant, the other is the evader. Your pairs will be separated by a mile of each other to avoid interference. I’ll drive each of you to your starting points and will be checking in on the assailants' progress. Load up!” he explained quickly before making matches.

When he announced you’d be paired with Ghost, your stomach flipped. You were sitting next to him, he kept glancing down at you. Anticipation burned throughout your lower stomach once you pulled up to the start point. You were given a three minute head start which was little to no help. Without a second thought, you run into the woods. Knowing how important it was to get distance. Looking back every once in a while to see if he was anywhere near you. After a while, you weren't taking it super seriously, if anything it felt like hide and go seek. Thinking you would use this time to explain why you’d been ignoring him. 

You wandered around for a while, it had started raining. Becoming inpatient to the point where you called out his name a few times. Cold and tired, you stopped and leaned your back against the tree. Giving up on your search for him, dissociating for a while. Quickly breaking out of your daze when you see a red dot on the ground, in between your feet. You gasp and immediately recognize it as the dot sight beaming from a gun. He was standing about 8 feet from you. 

“What the fuck are you doing Simon, I’ve been waiting for hours,” you say, heart racing from fear and agitation. He didn’t respond, only inched towards you moving the red light up your leg. 

“Simon! I get it, okay? This isn’t funny anymore,” you said, voice cracking which made him groan as his dick twitched. Moving the light to your sex, even though there was no physical touch you leaking onto your panties. 

“Why are you… please Si,” you plead, making him laugh. 

“Riley! Updates on the assailant?” Price asked. 

“Hasn’t been apprehended, hot on her tail though,” he tilted his head and spoke into his radio, never taking his eyes off you. It was so cold that when he spoke it looked like smoke coming out of his mask. 

“Strip.” He said.

“No.” you replied, he pulled out his knife and walked towards you. Trying your best to appear unphased but failing miserably. 

“Do I have to cut the fucking clothes off you. Strip!” He said, stabbing the knife into the tree trunk beside your head, a small lock of hair falling to the ground. It was well below freezing but you slowly started taking your gear off. Letting your vest fall to the ground, taking off most of your outer layers. Leaving yourself in your thermals. 

“What are you waiting for? A treat? Keep going,” he said, eyeing your body.

“Simon please I just-” you begin but are interrupted. 

“Shut the fuck up and do as you’re told!” he barked so loudly it made you flinch. 

You shakily take off the thermals, only in a bra and underwear. The rain had completely soaked your hair and body; you were trembling not only from the cold but because you felt so low. There was so much you had to say after not talking for a few days. Now you were paying the price of ignoring him. He stood there for a while, admiring your glistening and shivering body. Walking towards you and hovering while you cried. He lifted his hand up and pressed his finger against your mouth. You bit the glove, allowing him to pull his hand out. Reaching down, he uses his middle finger to push past your lips and feel your slick. Tracing your slit and circling his finger around your clit. You close your eyes and let your forehead fall onto his shoulder, moaning while pressing your nose into his uniform. It was the first time you’d smelt or touched him in days. Like you were getting drunk off it, willing to do anything for more. That all came to an end. He smacked your dripping cunt and grabbed your throat. 

“Do you think after avoiding me I’m gonna reward you? There really isn’t a thought behind those pretty little eyes is there? Imma’ fuck you right back into your place,” he hissed, picking you up and slamming your back into the three. The bark scraping and poking into your back, taking your breath away for a few moments before you respond.

“Is it still punishment if I crave it?” you asked, giggling as you watched his eyebrows furrow with anger. He drops you to the ground, the tree once again doing a number to your back as you slide to your knees. 

“Lick my boots clean bitch,” he snarled. 

“They look pretty clean to me, pretty boy, new recruit?” you asked, remembering how he talked shit about new soldiers whose boots looked fresh out the box. He pulled out his cock and pissed on his shoes, taking you off guard. The two of you never tried… that before and it was scaring you how much you were enjoying it. 

“Better?” he asked, using one foot to shove you under body to his other boot. 

It scared you how wild he was being, pushing limits and breaking boundaries. You shyly lick at the leather, insecure of how you looked; covered in mud and soaking wet. He moves his foot off your back and sets it on your hand. At first you thought it was an accident, that he didn’t see where his foot was going. Until you felt something warm on your back, it didn’t register that he was pissing on you until the cuts started to burn. Making you pull back, trying to get up but being unable to because your hand was pinned to the ground. You were withering and wiggling around which only prompted Ghost to apply more pressure. 

“Yeah that’s right whore, cry and squirm while trying to run. Remember this the next time you wanna act stupid,” he chuckled. 

Once he finally stops, you don't have a snarky comment to respond with. Instead you laid in the mud while you recovered and caught your breath. He gets behind you and prompts your ass up, pushing himself into your wet hole. Spreading your ass apart and spitting on his length as it pumped in and out of you. Practically screaming as his cock tore you apart. Normally he gave you a few minutes to adjust and stretch around him but he didn’t think you were deserving of such mercy. Not to mention he liked feeling your walls tightly wrapped around him. Slamming his hands down and spanking you until your cheeks were a rich red with speaks of purple in the center. It didn’t take long before both of you were cumming. Your body goes limp once you feel his warm cum pumping into you. He let his member go soft before pulling out and catching his breath. Using water from his pack to rinse your face and body before redressing you. 

“Ghost to Prince, I found y/n I believe she fell and hit her head while evading. I found she passed out, I'm gonna need medical to check for a concussion,” he explains into his radio. 

“Copy that, sending back up your way,” Price replied.

#ghost x reader #ghost fanfiction #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost #simon ghost riley smut #simon x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon smut #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost simon riley #ghost smut

[jays-bookmarks]

There was only one bed, but... (Dan Heng x gn!reader)

It's basically this picture. You're both nerds who don't know how to flirt and continually dance around your feelings.

Summary: March tries her best to set you up with the man you've been pining after since you first joined the Express, but her best-laid plans are foiled because both you and Dan Heng are socially incompetent. Words: 2.5k Warnings: secondhand embarrassment, awkward pining, reader is "short" (tiptoes to reach the top shelf lol), reader has some skimpy nightclothes

It had been a long day for you, March, and Dan Heng. After what happened during your mission, all you wanted was to flop down on a bed and sleep. As your group made its way to the inn, a very sheepish receptionist came to greet you. He apologized and explained that there were only two rooms left available.

“Oh, that's okay,” you said, glancing over at your teammates with a shrug. “I can share with March.”

March, however, quickly declined.

“No, uh—you should go with Dan Heng!” she said.

Your eyes widened at her words. “What? Why?”

You couldn’t hide the small blush on your face as you glanced over at Dan Heng. Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice your nervousness, having been equally surprised by March’s sudden proposition. He tilted his head, waiting for March to explain.

“Well…” March looked a little nervous under Dan Heng’s scrutiny. She gave you a meaningful look. “Since you’re so new to this, wouldn't it be safest to stay with Dan Heng? Don’t forget he’s the guard of the Astral Express! Besides, I, uh… snore pretty loud!”

She ended her sentence with an awkward giggle. You narrowed your eyes at her. You knew March was only taking this opportunity to set you up with Dan Heng, but you tried to play it cool and let him have the final say. There was no way he'd agree… right?

“...I suppose that makes sense,” Dan Heng said, turning to you. “Are you alright with that?”

“Huh? Uh—yeah!” You froze up under his gaze, then quickly glanced away. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and your face was so hot that you were sure Dan Heng didn’t miss your blush this time. You weren’t expecting him to agree so easily… but then again, why would he refuse? Despite the shiftiness of her delivery, March did make a sound argument. And Dan Heng clearly didn’t have any feelings he needed to keep hidden…

From the corner of your eye, you saw March pumping her first in victory before quickly hiding her hands behind her back. She bit her lip to suppress a grin. You shot her a glare, but she only giggled in response before ushering you all down the hall.

Once you saw the room you were staying in, your heart dropped. Of course, there was only one bed.

Dan Heng seemed completely unfazed, immediately moving to set his stuff down on the floor.

“You can have the bed,” he said, glancing back to where you stood frozen in the doorway. His gaze lingered on you for a moment. He seemed like he wanted to say something, but then he turned away and began taking off his coat.

You tentatively stepped into the room.

“A-are you sure? I… think there's enough room on the bed for both of us…” you said, but you could already feel yourself combusting at the thought of sharing a bed with Dan Heng. Sure, the bed was technically big enough for two people, but just barely. Trying to share this bed would definitely result in you two being squished uncomfortably close together.

You glanced over at Dan Heng, who shook his head and set his coat on the floor as a makeshift bedroll.

“I’ll be more comfortable on the floor," he said. Then, after a pause, he added in a quieter voice. "It would be best to keep a distance…"

Your face fell at his subtle rejection. Or, maybe you were just reading too much into it. He was probably just used to sleeping on the floor like he did in the archives. Or maybe he saw your awkwardness around him as you being uncomfortable with his presence. Or perhaps he just meant it would be easier for him to jump into action if the two of you weren’t tangled up together in bed. Oh gods, why did you word it like that? You shook the thought from your head and took a deep breath.

“Right, well… do you want an extra pillow or anything? A blanket?” You gestured to the bed.

Dan Heng shook his head again. “Don’t worry about me,” he said.

You sighed and turned to the closet anyway to look for an extra blanket. You had to stand on your toes to take it from the top shelf, but you managed without having to grab a stool. With that small victory spurring you on, you held the blanket out to him. But Dan Heng shook his head once more.

“You should take it,” he said. “It’ll be cold tonight.”

“And what are you gonna do? Just freeze?” you retorted.

He chuckled. “I’m used to sleeping in all sorts of conditions. I’ll be fine.”

He seemed adamant about letting you take the extra blanket. Unfortunately for Dan Heng, you also knew how to be stubborn. You frowned, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Come on… Just take it,” you said.

Dan Heng didn’t budge. You huffed, pouting a little.

“Please?”

He simply raised an eyebrow in response. You pursed your lips, trying to find another angle.

“Okay… how about this? If I get too cold tonight I’ll come and steal it from you. Deal?”

After a pause, he sighed and took the blanket. You grinned as you watched him lay the blanket down next to him. Grabbing your bag, you went to the bathroom to change and get ready for bed.

By the time you returned, Dan Heng was settled on the floor. He had Cloud-Piercer in his lap and was polishing the tip of the spear. You gestured to the bathroom as you passed.

“It’s all yours,” you said.

He looked up and you noticed his gaze briefly flick over your body. You blushed as you realized how little your sleepwear actually covered. Dan Heng quickly looked away, placing Cloud-Piercer against the wall as he stood.

“Thank you,” he said. He paused when you didn’t move from where you stood. “…You don’t have to wait for me. Rest.”

“Right… um, goodnight!”

“Goodnight.”

Despite the way your heart still hammered in your chest, you fell asleep surprisingly quickly. But not long after, you awoke to the sound of movement from the floor beside your bed.

As you blinked the sleep from your eyes, you heard Dan Heng mumbling something in his sleep. Concerned, you leaned over the bed to check on him. His brows were furrowed, and he was covered in a cold sweat while he tossed and turned. Was he having a nightmare? You stared at him for a moment longer, pondering whether you should try to wake him up. He was always such a private person… would he appreciate you butting into his personal life like this?

Still, you thought it would be best not to leave him to suffer. Sliding out from under the covers, you crouched down next to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. You called his name, trying to gently wake him up.

“Dan Heng…”

In a flash, you were pinned to the floor, your wrist held at a painful angle behind your back while Dan Heng’s other hand gripped the back of your neck. You sucked in a breath, too shocked to even say anything. A beat passed.

You heard Dan Heng quietly say your name in a surprised voice. He seemed to realize what had happened and quickly released you. His hands hovered uncertainly around you as you pushed yourself back into a sitting position with a groan.

“A-are you alright?” he asked. “I’m sorry, I thought—”

“I know,” you said, trying to give him a reassuring smile. “I’m sorry for waking you up. I was just—”

You shrugged and rubbed at your wrist to ease the pain. A look of guilt flashed over Dan Heng’s face.

“Anyway,” you continued. “I should be asking you that. Are you okay? Were… you having a nightmare?"

Dan Heng opened his mouth to reply, before closing it again. He seemed hesitant to say anything. You could tell he was still shaken up by his nightmare, whatever it was. Eventually, he let out a sigh.

“...No. It’s fine. Forget it happened,” he said.

You paused for a moment, biting your lip. If he didn’t want to talk, then you couldn’t exactly force him to open up. You nodded.

“As long as you're feeling okay…” You began to stand, but paused halfway to look back at him. “Um, but if you want to stay up and chat about other stuff… just as a distraction… I wouldn't mind.”

Though you were making the offer for him, part of you secretly wanted this late-night conversation. It was a way to get to know him better. As a friend, of course. You looked at Dan Heng, hoping he would accept.

“...I suppose I wouldn't mind a distraction at the moment.”

You let out a small sigh of relief. Flashing a smile, you returned to sit down beside him on the floor. After a brief pause, you realized that Dan Heng had expected you to start the conversation.

"Um. Okay, well…" you floundered for something to say. You were never good at holding a conversation, and the fact that Dan Heng was sitting so close to you wasn’t helping you in the slightest. You tried to tell yourself not to think about it—he had already rejected you, anyway, you could take a hint—but your body was reacting on its own. You hoped that he didn’t notice the flush on your cheeks in the dark room.

Dan Heng remained silent for a while longer, waiting for you to finish your thought, but when it became clear you had nothing to say, he let out a quiet chuckle.

“It seems we’re both quite bad at conversation, aren’t we?” he said.

You laughed as well, feeling a bit of the tension between you dissipating.

"Yeah… I guess I should've thought of that when I offered…"

The two of you fell into silence once more. Since you were so preoccupied with searching for a topic of conversation, you were unaware of how Dan Heng was struggling not to stare at you in your sleepwear. The chill in the room seeped into your exposed skin, and you shivered slightly, bringing your knees up to your chest.

“Here.”

Before you could react, Dan Heng had leaned over you. You froze, your mind going completely blank as you felt his breath fanning over your cheek. His arms trapped you on both sides and you tried not to move lest you accidentally touched him. Your eyes flicked down to his lips…

But then Dan Heng pulled back, and you felt something being draped over your shoulders. He had grabbed the spare blanket from behind you and was now wrapping it around you. His hands, no longer covered by his gloves, grazed your bare skin as he did so, leaving a pleasant tingling in their wake. When you finally managed to snap out of your shock, you reached up to secure the blanket with your own hands, and Dan Heng retreated into his space once again.

You thanked him quietly, hoping your voice didn’t shake too much. He nodded in response before glancing away with a cough. If you weren’t panicking so hard over what had just happened, you would’ve laughed and called him cute.

But you were panicking, and right now teasing him was the last thing on your mind. You tried desperately to think of something, anything, to change the topic and move away from this tension between you two.

You blurted out the first thought that came to your mind.

“Uh... what's your favorite animal?”

You blushed immediately after the words left your mouth.

“Um. Sorry, that was kind of a stupid question…” you said. “I'm... not very good at... talking."

Dan Heng chuckled. You let out a relieved laugh as well, glad that you hadn’t made things more awkward, at least.

“The white tiger,” he said. “They’re quite striking, and very elusive... To the people of the Xianzhou, it is known as the Guardian of the West, representing the season of autumn.”

You nodded as he spoke, trying to indicate that you were paying attention to his words and not the way his lips were currently curled into a smile. He turned his gaze to you and you quickly looked away.

“What about you?” he asked.

You blinked, pleasantly surprised that he was willing to continue the conversation. Glancing up at the ceiling with a hum, you thought about your answer.

"I like dragons,” you said. “Oh, actually—aren’t the Vidyadhara, like, dragon people? Can they turn into dragons?”

“Only some could turn into dragons. The power was a rare inheritance, passed down only to those who could successfully complete numerous rites and challenges.”

“Oh? Like what?”

Dan Heng began to explain. You nodded along, your fatigue beginning to catch up to you as you listened to his soothing voice. After a moment, you yawned and leaned against him with a sigh. Your tired brain had pushed the memory of your awkwardness from just moments ago to the back of your mind. You didn't notice the way Dan Heng stiffened at your touch, nor the way his breath hitched as he stopped mid-sentence.

A moment of silence passed, then your eyes flew open as you realized what you had just done. You quickly withdrew, stammering apologies.

"I'm so sorry! I don’t know what— I'm sorry!" Your face was flushed and you couldn’t meet Dan Heng’s gaze.

"No… it's fine.” Dan Heng’s voice was quiet and seemed to waver slightly. He took a breath before clearing his throat. "Don't worry about it…"

You took a breath as well, willing your heart to calm down. "Right, um..."

You glanced down at the floor as you fidgeted with your hands. That tension was back again. You were acutely aware of how close you came to touching each other every time one of you shifted on the bedroll. The silence stretched on as you once again wracked your brain for something to say.

“It’s getting a bit late…” you finally said. “Should we go to bed?”

You weren’t trying to drop any hints, per se, but you didn’t think your heart could handle any more accidents tonight.

“Yes... let’s try to be well-rested for tomorrow,” Dan Heng said.

He stood and offered you his hand. You paused, a little surprised, before you flashed a nervous smile and took it. You couldn't help but stare at the way his muscles flexed in his arm… You quickly shook the thoughts out of your mind and handed the spare blanket back to Dan Heng. You sat down on the bed, leaving him to settle back on the floor.

“Goodnight, Dan Heng,” you said. “And... thanks for chatting with me.”

“Goodnight. And—” Dan Heng paused for a moment, seemingly debating something in his mind. After a moment, he continued with a faint smile. “It was... nice to talk to you as well.”

#i sent excerpts of this fic to my friends and they were banging their head on the table bc of these idiots #i'm sure march would as well if she saw this #also i kept fucking hitting undo and losing all my work so this took literal hours to edit #i hope you enjoy bc I bled for this :') #never using tumblr's post editor to proofread fics ever again #dan heng x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #dan heng x you #dan heng x gender neutral reader #dan heng x gn reader #hsr x reader #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail fanfic #dan heng imagines #honkai star rail #my writing

[imahinatjon]

Random 1:26 am thought: Sigma, dazai, and fyodor coming home after an exhausting day of work, and they see their s/o cuddled up on the couch, sick as a dog. I'm in the hospital for flu rn lolllllllllllll

:( I hope you get better soon.

Thank you for the request. The idea is adorable.

Sick at home.

Sigma, Fyodor, Dazai.

Sigma.

• He doesn't exactly... come home perse. Just... leaves his office and goes to his part of the casino reserved for him to live in.

• I mean, he lives and breaths sky casino.

• There's not much to look forward too when it comes to retiring for the day.

• Or there wasn't, until you wondered into the Casino one day and won his heart. Now he had you to look forward to every day!

• He walked in, calling out to you as he usually did, but didn't get the response he expected.

• What he heard was half of his name called out weakly followed by a long string of coughs.

• He looked around in the darkness for you, before spotting a bundle of blankets in the middle of the bed.

• He quietly tip toes over, sitting at the edge of the bed.

• Feeling a slight dip in the mattress, you pop your head out of the covers, face red and hair messy.

• And suddenly he's panicking... quietly.

• "Y-your sick?! Why didn't you let me know?" He asked as gently as he possibly could.

• "You... had work... *cough*"

• "I could have taken time to come and help you, to get you feeling better"

• You merely shook your head at him. Telling him not to worry

• "B-but you've been alone all day..." He felt REALLY bad that he wasn't there with you.

• "Don't worry, I had *random staff member* help me get a few things so I can get better"

• That was a little more assuring. Still...

• "I'm not going to be working tomorrow"

• And he didn't. The next day, he didn't bother with work. Which was a little hard, but work could wait, he had other things to prioritize right now.

Fyodor

• He's another one who doesn't exactly come home from work.

• He lives where he works and works where he lives I thinks. He didn't even have a bedroom until you got there, and he had a bed brought and put in the other room for your comfort.

• He hadn't seen you in a while. Which was unusual. You normally approached him regularly throughout the day

• He wasn't worried. Not really, a little too focused for that. But when it got to about 6:30 pm and he hadn't seen you at all?

• Well, he's a little concerned and wants to know what's going on.

• So, reluctantly he pulls away from his scheming.

• This place isn't big, so if he can't find you immediately, chances are your in bed.

• So that's where he goes.

• And thats where he finds you. Breathing slow, but raspy breaths. Curled up in multiple blankets, despite your flushed face suggesting a temperature.

• He doesn't want to get ill, but he knows you haven't been out of the room, meaning you haven't been looking after yourself in your sickness.

• So he approaches to gently shake you awake.

• He's oddly gentle and affectionate. To the point you think your hallucinating and reach up to touch his face to ensure he's really there.

• He is, and he leans into your touch.

• "I'll have someone go and fetch some medicine and anything else you want, just give me a list"

• He's acting so out of character that you sit up suddenly, which hurts your head, causing you to wince.

• A brief look of annoyance crosses his face as he watches you act so carelessly, but it isn't there for long.

• "Um... if it's okay *couch* I'd like..."

• He makes sure that everything on that list is fetched.

• Even if he has to suck it up and go get the stuff himself because everyone else is so damn incompetent. So long as you get what you need it's okay.

• He'll also take a break for a while, spend time with you.

• Just don't mention how sweet his being or he's gonna ditch you and go back go what he was doing before.

Dazai

• Somehow, this guy knew you were going to be sick before he left for work, and had gotten you some water, a hot water bottle, extra blankets ready, and flu medication...

• ...He was up early...

• So you wake up feeling awful with everything you need already there, which makes you feel a little better... emotionally, being sick still sucks, but at least you aren't unhappy.

• When he gets home, he's extra quiet.

• He brought your favorite takeaway with him and a plushie. He borrowed kunikidas credit card

• (Pay back for making him go to work when his love is at home sick)

• He asks you if there's anything you want.

• He knows being ill sucks, he hates it just as much at the next person, plus he loves you so he's trying to be as accommodating as possible.

• He's pretty good at it.

• Your lucky

• He cuddles with you all night, and turns off his ringtone so kunikida can't disturb either of you in the morning.

• He's also kinda hoping you'll get him sick too.

• Unless you tell him to back off he's going to smother you with affection, that way you can be ill together!

• How sweet -_-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

:D

Masterlist :3

#imagine #fanfic #bungou stray dogs #x reader #anime #sigma x reader #bsd sigma #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #fyodor x reader #bsd fyodor

[munson-blurbs]

Mailman!Eddie x Reader

Here she is, folks...the mailman!Eddie fic my weird lil brain conjured up. Big thanks to @eddiemunsonsmum for giving me the idea to turn this into an actual story.

Summary: Your mailman keeps delivering love letters to you. You're determined to find out who could be behind such a mean prank, but Eddie doesn't make it easy.

WC: 1.1k

--

If someone told you that you’d be waiting for the mailman to deliver a love letter from a secret admirer, you probably would have laughed in their face. If they told you that you’d be waiting to confront the mailman about these love letters, you would have dismissed the notion completely, perhaps with a slight flick of your middle finger.

And, yet, here you are.

“Morning!” Eddie chirps, holding out a stack of envelopes as he climbs the three stairs up your porch. His navy shorts hit right above his knees, leaving his lower legs and their dusting of brown curls exposed. He adjusts the mail sack so the weight is more evenly distributed across his back. You place your glass of iced tea on the snack table in front of you, wiping the condensation from your palms. He has a smile on his face, as he always does when he sees you, but it falters when he notices the frown on yours. “What’s going on? Something wrong?”

You bite back a scoff, taking the mail from his grasp. Sure enough, there’s another one, smack dab in the middle of bills and junk mail. “Yeah, something’s wrong,” you hold up the envelope, unable to mask your irritation. “You keep handing me these stupid notes, and I need to know who’s sending them.”

Eddie blanches, cheeks flushing a deeper pink that can’t solely be attributed to exposure to the summer sun. “Wh-I just deliver the mail,” he stammers, taking a small step back. “I don’t know who—” 

“Save it, Eddie,” you snap, feeling the heat of anger blooming in your cheeks. “There’s no return address; there’s no stamp. Which means that someone is giving you these to bring me, and it’s not funny anymore.”

“Funny?”

You sigh impatiently and roll your eyes at what must be feigned incompetence. “Look, it’s obviously a prank. Who’s going to send love letters to me?”

The hurt and anger in your voice catches him off-guard, and he nearly slips off of the step as he starts backwards. “I, um, I don’t know, okay? They’re just in the pile and I-I gotta finish my route.”

The remainder of Eddie’s shift is filled with him silently chastising himself. 

Way to go, Munson. You try doing something romantic and she thinks it’s a prank. Just tell her how you feel. Stop being a coward and ask her out already. She’s been nothing but nice to you, not like the rest of the people in this town. 

You’re not home in the afternoon again until the following Saturday, and you’re in the same position you were before: standing on the porch, anxiously awaiting the mail. Well, anxiously awaiting the mailman. You hadn’t received any of those fake love notes since you’d last spoken to Eddie, but you couldn’t stop thinking about them. Who would be so cruel to tease you like that? It was middle school behavior; something you’re far too old to be dealing with.

Eddie ducks his head as he hands you the mail, wanting nothing more but to hide behind the curtain of curls that he has to keep tied back on hot days like today. If he could just escape without having to–

“Are you gonna tell me who’s slipping you those notes now?”

Shit.

He peers up at you, barely able to make eye contact as shame settles into his cheeks. “No one’s slipping them to me,” he mumbles, tucking his lower lip between his teeth.

You throw your hands up in the air before resting them on your hips in complete exasperation. “Seriously?” you balk. “How many times do I–”

“No one’s slipping them to me because…” he pauses, massaging the back of his neck with trembling fingers. “...because I'm the one writing them.”

The information crushes you like a boulder on your chest. Eddie was behind the prank this whole time? Was this some sort of sick joke between him and his mail carrier buddies? “You?” you choke out, eyes stinging with tears. “Why would you do that? I thought we were friends, Eddie!”

“We are!” he tries to reassure you, but you shake your head in disbelief. Small towns always had an overabundance of small-minded people, but you’d never thought that Eddie was part of that group.

“Well, friends don’t screw with each other’s feelings and write fake love letters for entertainment.” You cringe at the way he’d probably seen your face alight with excitement the first few times you’d gotten a letter, thinking that maybe someone actually harbored romantic feelings for you. But when months went by with no prospects in sight, your outlook became increasingly cynical.

Eddie’s jaw drops at your accusation. “They’re not fake,” he tells you, keeping his tone soft but insistent. “I like you…a lot…but I was too afraid to admit it.” He exhales, grateful to have confessed his feelings but terrified to see your reaction. “I thought the letters would make you happy, but it looks like I royally fucked that up.”

His words ring in your ears. I like you…a lot. Eddie Munson likes you a lot. Likes you enough to write you letters about how he thinks you’re beautiful, that your smile brightens his whole day, that he could listen to you tell stories about damn near anything for hours on end and never get bored. The man with the chocolate-hued eyes who gave you butterflies every time he was in your vicinity–flutters that you’d tried your best to ignore, because how could someone so handsome and sweet ever be into someone like you?

You let your gaze lock onto his, though your vision is still a bit blurred from your earlier surge of emotion. “Almost royally fucked it up,” you gently correct him, taking a few steps forward to meet him where your walkway met the porch stairs.

Eddie barely chokes out a “Wha–” when you pull him closer by the strap of his mail bag, pressing your lips to his and kissing him like he’s only dreamt of being kissed. Your fingertips of your other hand tangle in the locks of hair that have already slipped from the ponytail; his land on the small of your back as though they’ve always resided there. You two melt into each other, only breaking apart when you realize that Eddie still has a job to do–one that doesn’t involve making out in front of your house.

You’re at work on Monday when Eddie delivers the mail, still thinking about the taste of your mouth on his. When he opens the mailbox to place the stack of envelopes inside, a bright yellow handmade card catches his eye. 

Two can play this love letter game. Picnic at Skull Rock after your shift?

--

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things fanfic #eddie stranger things #fanfic #stranger things

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

good omens is filled with so much LOVE holy fuck

HELLO it's the Good Omens Mascot here, and okay i'm rewatching good omens and i promise i'm being Very Fine and Normal about it (don't look at my last post) and how is it not clear how UTTERLY in love Aziraphale is with Crowley I don't get how some people still don't understand it that angel is fucking SMITTEN

he was smitten back when he saw Crowley in Rome and burst into a smile and he was smitten when he refused to give Crowley the holy water because he wouldn't lose Crowley and he was smitten when Crowley handed him the books and he was smitten when THEY KISSED AND HE WAS STILL SMITTEN WHEN HE HAD TO GO TO HEAVEN BECAUSE HE BELIEVES IN HUMANITY STILL AND HE'S GOING TO FIGHT FOR THE WORLD THAT THEY BOTH LOVE AND THAT THEY TOASTED TO BACK IN SEASON ONE BECAUSE IF HE'S IN CHARGE HE CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE HE KNOWS HE MAY NOT BE ABLE TO HE KNOWS IT'S A LONG SHOT BUT I'VE NEVER SEEN THAT ANGEL STOP TRYING OR STOP BELIEVING IN THE THINGS THAT MATTER

god there's so much i missed in all the chaos of when i watched it first like for fuck's sake aziraphale's response to the arrangement? not that he would be in danger, but that hell would destroy Crowley.

aziraphale is SUCH A LITTLE BITCH DON'T GET ME WRONG IT'S WHAT I LOVE ABOUT HIM, HIS PRISSY MANICURED HANDS AND HIS CASUALLY STROLLING OFF TO LET JEAN-CLAUDE GET GUILLOTINED AND HIS STANDARDS, HE'S A LITTLE SHIT AND I LOVE HIM FOR IT, BUT ALSO HE'S FILLED WITH SO MUCH LOVE JUST LIKE CROWLEY IS AND I KNOW I'VE ALWAYS YELLED ABOUT CROWLEY BUT IT'S HIGH TIME I YELLED ABOUT AZIRAPHALE TOO

god they're both filled with so much love Aziraphale refused to turn Gabriel away from the bookshop and took him in. Crowley, knowing everything that she does about Gabriel, still saw that Gabriel was distressed and offered them hot chocolate. there's so much LOVE NOT JUST FOR EACH OTHER BUT IN GENERAL THEY'RE JUST SUCH. IDIOTS. AND SO FULL OF HEART. AND SO INCOMPETENT. AND SO IN LOVE.

NO I AM FINE I AM TOTALLY NORMAL ANF FUCKING FINE IT'S OKAY I'CM OKAY GO AWAY DON'T LOOK AT ME

#good omens #good omens fandom #good omens brainrot #aziracrow #aziraphale #ineffable lovers #ineffable idiots #gay coded #ineffable husbands #ineffable brainrot #ineffable fandom #asmi #weirdly specific but ok #crowley #ineffable spouses #good omens mascot #DOING COMPLETELY FINE #IM OKAY #IM FINE

[wooataes]

하품 (Yawn)

Pairing: any member x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 0.8k

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, swearing

Summary: you’re just tired.

A/N: listening to the Yawn teaser in the Highlight medley made me think of this lil idea🥰 Lee Jihoon, this song will break my heart I just know it. This song feels like a warm, comforting hug.

-Tae 🩷🌸

Masterlist | Ask to be added to my Taglist

Today couldn’t have gotten any worse if it tried.

It all began from when you slept through your morning alarm, making you late for work and stepping in a puddle in your attempt to rush to make it on time. While in your rush, you were also blessed with an unwanted shower by a passing bus, the dirty rain water drenching your brand new white shirt. This was followed swiftly by a loud scalding from your manager in your office, leading you to sit silently at your desk, damp, dirty and on the brink of tears. It didn’t help your case when every mistake that could’ve been made by your team decided to be executed all today too, making your already large workload even larger from your incompetent coworkers.

Due to your tardiness, you were only able to drink a poorly made coffee from the coffee machine in the break room while you worked through your morning tea break to fix up the mess left behind by your coworkers and eat a now soggy sandwich through your lunch break. You think that is the end of your bad luck for the day, only for the bus to break down on your way home, causing you to walk the 20 minute walk him in the rain, seemingly giving up on turning the day around.

You heave a sigh of relief as you step into your apartment, wanting nothing more than to have a hot shower, change into a fresh pair of pyjamas and order a take-away pizza for an impromptu date night with your boyfriend. As you step into the bathroom and turn the shower on, you feel the tears fill your eyes once more as only cold water runs through your fingers. The stupid fuckers upstairs have clearly used all the hot water in the complex for the third time.

You feel stupid, crying over something so small. The water seemed to be the last straw for you as you let out a weak sob, turning the shower off before curling up on the bathroom floor.

Fuck today, you think. Fuck this stupid fucking day.

You let your sobs leave your body for what feels like hours, hugging your knees tightly to your chest.

You’re just so fucking tired. Why can’t you have anything good go for you today, just once?

Your cries turn into whimpers after a short while before your body jolts at the feeling of two strong arms hugging you from behind. Just as you’re about to fight back, your whole body relaxes as his voice whispers to you.

“Hey, you’re okay. I’ve got you.”

You sniffle and let out another weak cry, which only makes him coo and scoop you into his lap, tucking your head into his shoulder and wrapping his arms around your waist. His warmth seeps into your bones slowly like a cup of warm tea, and your cries begin to soften as his fingers run through your hair, rocking you ever so slightly.

“I’m sorry,” you hiccup, but he only just shushes you and presses his lips for your forehead. “No, don’t. I-I’m dirty.”

“Oh hush.” He scolds you playfully. “It’s just a little bit of rain. I won’t die.” He kisses your forehead once more, standing slowly and carrying you to the bedroom carefully.

You don’t even want to know what your face looks like right now, eyes puffy and cheeks blotchy, lips red from biting on them all day out of frustration. And to top it all off, your hair probably looks like a birds nest, all knotty and soaked from the rain.

“Come on, you.” He guides you to the end of the bed carefully, getting you out of your wet clothes and changing you into one of his large hoodies and a pair of your Pyjama pants. “There we go.” He’s praising you with every article of clothing he manages to change you into, which you follow almost robotically with no complaint.

“Today sucked.” You whimper as he leads you to the bed, making you lay under the covers.

“You don’t have to talk about it.” He urges, sliding under the blankets beside you.

“I’m just so tired.”

“I know, Jagiya.” He doesn’t wait for you, taking your arm and pulling you into his waiting hold, arms circling around your waist. “I know. You can rest for the day, I’m not going anywhere, Kay?”

You nod slowly as your head rests against his chest, letting your eyes flutter closed at the sound of his heartbeat in your ears.

“I love you.” You sniffle.

“I love you too, my love.” He coos, fingers running through your hair delicately.

You may have had the worst day, but you feel damn lucky that you have your amazing boyfriend to help you pick up your pieces.

Tags:

@phenomenalgirl9 @changbinisms @breakfastburritosattiffanys @milopenne @addicsvt @woozixo @kameko-ko @milopenne @mar-627 @misshale21 @etaerealboy @kawennote09 @im-gemmy @devinkelsey19 @woozieeeee

#seventeen angst #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #Scoups x Reader #Seungcheol x Reader #Jeonghan x Reader #Joshua x Reader #Junhui x Reader #Soonyoung x reader #Wonwoo x reader #Jihoon x reader #mingyu x reader #the8 x reader #Minghao x reader #DK x reader #Seokmin x reader #Seungkwan x reader #hansol x reader #Vernon x reader #Dino x reader #Chan x reader

[moonstruckme]

This is a bit of a heavy request but could you do a blurb or drabble of Siriusx reader where they struggle with eating and food in general in recovery tho and still finds it difficult sometimes again this might be too much so I’m sorry if it is

Thanks for requesting!

cw: reader is struggling with eating disorder recovery, thoughts related to bullemia, please don't read if this will be triggering for you

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 737 words

You can’t fathom how Sirius has managed to clean his plate, but you’re grateful that he has. It makes it easier to think of your portion, hardly more than half of his, as a reasonable amount. 

Still, it sticks in your throat as it goes down. 

“How was your day?” Sirius asks, waiting patiently in front of his empty plate as you take your tiny bites. 

“Not bad.” Not great. Your boss had gotten irritated with you for asking too many questions about your new assignment, and you’d spend the rest of the day steeping in shame for your incompetence. “Yours?”

“It was good,” he replies, and his voice is breezy, but you can feel his eyes on you. There’s a few bites left on your plate, and if Sirius weren’t here you’d throw the rest of your dinner in the trash. You think he knows.

You can feel your meal pressing at the base of your throat. You want it out, up, whatever. It's one of your worse days, and the thoughts of how disgustingly full you are, how many calories you’ve eaten, how you didn’t work out that morning, are more difficult to repress. Nausea works at your gag reflex, and you keep swallowing as if that’s going to help.

“Do you want some water?” Sirius asks softly.

“No.” Anything more in you, and you’re sure you’ll be sick. But now irritation provides a distraction. Inexplicably and to your self-loathing, nothing sparks the flint of your anger quicker than the people you love being worried about you. It’s some petulant instinct: don’t tell me what to do. You know Sirius isn’t trying to be patronizing, that he’s not trying to take control of your meal away from you, and still. Resentment roils hot and bitter with the undigested food in your stomach. 

“Just a few—”

“I know.” Your tone is so harsh you’re surprised the words don’t scrape and tear on their way out, and you backpedal immediately. “I’m sorry, Siri, I—”

“It’s okay,” he says quickly, with more sympathy than you deserve. “It’s okay, baby, I get it. You don’t wanna talk about it?”

“No, thank you.” 

He nods, and there’s a brief silence. 

“Hey, d’you wanna start that puzzle tonight?” he asks casually. “I know you’ve been wanting to work on it for awhile.” 

Sirius doesn’t even like puzzles. “I thought you had work to do?”

He shrugs. “I can do it in the morning. It’s only five hundred pieces, right?”

“A thousand.”

He blanches, and you almost smile. You know what he’s doing, but you’re going to let him anyway. He composes himself quickly. 

“Perfect. The more the better.” 

You force yourself to take one bite, then another, swallowing before you can fixate on the feel of them in your mouth. It’s impossible not to think about them, but Sirius’ chatter makes things easier, beckoning you to engage with him as he asks silly questions about whether you start with the border or the picture, if you’re a purist or if you use the box for reference. 

“It’s going to be hard,” you admit, and realize with the clink of your fork against the dish that the last bite is gone. Sirius takes your plate before you get the chance to think about it too hard, carrying it with his to the kitchen. 

“Why’s that?” he prompts. 

“Because…” It takes a moment to remember what you were talking about. You’re proud of yourself for finishing, but the insistent full feeling is still there. “Because the picture is watercolor. Things won’t be as distinct.” 

Sirius seems to sense that you could still use a distraction, discarding the plates in the sink and leading the way to the living room. “This one, right?” He holds up a box for you to see, and you nod, sitting with your legs crossed under you on the floor by the coffee table. “Pfft, that’s easy money, dollface.” 

“You’re going to eat those words,” you reply, doing your best to match his easygoing tone. 

Sirius makes a disbelieving huffing sound as he spreads the pieces on the table, dropping a kiss on your head. “Proud of you,” he murmurs, and it’s like a blip, a break in character, before he settles down beside you on the rug and his voice resumes its normal volume. “With your skills, we’re gonna make this puzzle our bitch. Just you watch, sweetness.”

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #tw ed #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fic #sirius black hurt/comfort #sirius black fluff #sirius black drabble #sirius black oneshot #sirius black imagine #sirius black scenario #marauders #marauders era #the marauders #marauders fanfic #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #the marauders era #marauders fandom #marauders x reader #sirius black x self insert

[lemonlover1110]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟏𝟎

𝐒𝐄𝐗 𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍

Pairing: Suguru Getou x f!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Dub-Con, Sex Pollen, Car Sex, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex (m. receiving), Creampie

Kinktober Masterlist

Yet another exhausting mission. The horrible taste of a curse on the tip of his tongue, the disgusting aftertaste in his mouth. Every time he swallows a curse, regret comes flooding in. He sometimes regrets ever staying. He sometimes regrets staying, not allowing his impulses and rage to take over, ultimately becoming a teacher at Jujutsu Tech.

“Do you want a piece of gum, Suguru?” You offer, sticking a piece out of the pack for him to take. He looks at it momentarily before taking the piece, unwrapping it, and tossing it into his mouth. You smile at him before putting the pack in the pocket of your uniform jacket.

You begin to look out the window, watching as you pass by places that you’ve never been to before. Suguru stares at you, fighting back a smile that threatens to spread on his face. Whenever that feeling of regret washes over, it’s overpowered by your presence. When you joined Jujutsu Tech, a lot of his worries magically disappeared. And nearly ten years later, it’s still the same, yet, he hasn’t made a move.

“Ijichi, why are we stopping?” Suguru asks as Ijichi pulls over to the grass that’s on the side of the road. Ijichi sighs, as he puts the car in parking.

“I forgot to stop at a gas station and we’re low on fuel. The next gas station is too far away, so we won’t make it.” Ijichi explains, making Suguru sigh in irritation. He’s too tired for this. “I’ll have to make a couple calls and-”

“I think you can walk to the gas station and get gas. It’s not too far away for you to walk.” Suguru interrupts, knowing that making calls and waiting will result in hours of wasted time. Since this is all because of Ijichi’s incompetence, he can walk a couple miles to the nearest gas station and get gas. Any other day Suguru would’ve done it for Ijichi because Suguru will definitely get the job done faster, but Suguru isn’t up for the task. He’s feeling so hot right now, even with the air conditioning in the car that’s at full blast.

“Y-Yeah. Okay.” Ijichi nervously responds. He turns off the car and gets out. Suguru has to take off his uniform jacket, leaving his white undershirt. His body feels so warm. It’s a summer day, it seems reasonable to be hot but not when the car is still cold.

“That’s so weird… Didn’t expect Ijichi of all people to forget to get gas. I guess we all have our moments though.” You say, looking at Suguru who smacks the gum. Some color begins to appear on his cheeks. You put your hand on his shoulder, and that color intensifies. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah… Aren’t you hot though?” He questions, and you shake your head. The car is still pretty cold. Suguru begins to wave his shirt, trying to get the air flowing. Ijichi took the car key with him so you can’t turn the car on either. You don’t understand where this is suddenly coming from. Suguru gathers his hair and puts it in a bun. “It’s too hot.”

“Do you want me to open the car door?” You offer, and he nods in response. You open the car door, hoping that it’ll somehow help him. He can’t help but lift up his shirt, and your eyes glue to his chest once his shirt is off. He’s so attractive, and you would be focused on admiring his well-toned upper body, if it weren’t for the tent in his pants that’s clearly visible.

“Are you sure you’re not hot?” He asks, the heat becoming unbearable for him. Your eyes stare at his erection, and you feel your face get warm. Suguru looks at you and notices you staring at his pants. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, feeling what you’re staring at. “It must be a side effect of the curse.”

“It is kind of hot though…” You comment, beginning to take off your jacket. He watches as you discard the article of clothing, leaving just the white tank top that’s underneath. He takes notice of the nude bra straps. He’s taking in every single detail, the wildest thoughts going through his mind. You look at him, your look being one that he’s never seen before, at least not from you. Lustful. “Do you need help, Suguru?”

“I- I do.” He nods. He doesn’t understand what’s happening to him, but he’s so fucking horny. Right now he can only think of you wrapped around his dick; he’s had this type of thoughts before, but never as intense as this. Your hand goes to his belt, slowly undoing it. He doesn’t like the slowness, so he takes the lead and undoes the belt. He unbuttons his pants and pulls them down along with his boxers. 

You lick your lips at the sight of his cock. Your hand wraps around it and begins to pump it slowly. Your hand stops for a second, and you’re about to close the door, but Suguru stops you. “What are the odds that someone will walk by and see?”

There’s literally nothing there but trees, but it’s still better to be safe than sorry. No cars are driving by either so there’s nothing to worry about, either way the windows are tinted. Your hand wraps around his cock again and lightly squeezes it before moving up and down. You lower your head, your tongue circling around the tip, tasting his precum.

Suguru throws his head back, swearing he’s in heaven. He doesn’t understand why he feels like this, how a curse has managed to get him so horny. The worst a curse has done is make him vomit. But in a sense this isn’t bad– Not when your pretty mouth wraps around his length.

You fully take him in your mouth while your hands begin to massage his balls. You’re really wasting no time. The poor man is so hard that you’re afraid he’s in some type of pain. But the fear goes away as you hear some low moans escape his lips, loving the feeling of your pretty mouth wrapped around his cock.

He hears the wet slurping noises as you bob your head. He’d be amazed at how you fully manage to take his cock in your mouth, but at the moment his mind is foggy. He’s on cloud nine.

But he quickly gains consciousness when your mouth detached itself from his cock. You lift your head, and he finally sees your face, how drool has gotten all over your chin. He’s always wanted to see you like this, and he doesn’t know how to react when you’re actually like this.

You lift up your skirt, moving your panties to the side and getting on top of him. You don’t remember how far away Ijichi is or how fast he’ll get back, so you can’t afford to waste any time. Your mouth kisses his lips, your tongue quickly entering his mouth, exploring his mouth. Your tongues press against each other. Suguru’s hand goes to his cock and he quickly aligns his tip with your entrance.

“I really wish someone would walk by and see me fucking the shit out of you.” Suguru says before thrusting his hips, with one swift stroke his cock fully fills you up. A loud moan escapes your lips as you adjust to the size, but Suguru is eager, too energized and impatient to wait for you to adjust. 

He wastes no time in moving his hips. He wastes no time in moving fast either. You shut your eyes, your mouth parted open to let your loud moans into the air. You begin to meet his thrusts halfway. The car gets loud with the sound of skin smacking and both of your moans.

His cock is so good, way better than his best friend’s. Your head tilts back while your hands go to his chest. “It’s so good, Suguru.”

“I’m glad you like it, pretty girl.” He responds, his hands going to your waist. He’d be admiring your beauty as you ride him, but he’s too focused on releasing. He has to let it all out… He’s never felt like this before. He’s never been so fucking horny, so focused on climaxing. He’d take a moment to enjoy how good you feel around him but he can’t. He’s wanted to do this for so long, but now that he has it, it doesn’t feel like he’s properly enjoying it.

“Oh- fuck-” You moan, his cock hitting all the right spots. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head. One hand lifts up your skirt while the other begins to play with your clit. You stop meeting him halfway, and just let him do all the work. “Suguru!”

“Fuck, fuck-” He feels as you tighten around him. He’s so close. He closes his eyes, completely getting lost in you. He no longer hears the word outside, now he just hears you, and how pretty you sound. So erotic.

He fucks you with somehow more energy, chasing his release. He begins to groan, getting so close. He opens his eyes and looks at your pretty face one last time before his eyes go to your cunt, watching how you play with your clit. 

With a couple more strokes, his cum fills you up. He gives a couple more thrusts, before coming to a complete stop. He looks at you, noticing your pouty lips.

“There’s no need to pout, pretty girl. We still have some time.” He informs you. He knows that Ijichi will take some time.

And the side effect clearly hasn’t worn off yet.

🏷 @s-witch-bitch @dont-ask-me-pls @todoroki-slut @jhsuhx @witchblades666 @eatingasswithsomeclass @Kamikat @tojigirlfriend @miemielovesjjk @ushigushy3000 @im-a-killer-queen @monstaxs-bitchh @lightofmylifeisbts @iam-mia9 @Flamesforrengoku @S0ur.cr34m @i2ilakkuma @mysticchaosangel @onidomi @geltears @hottieluvr @lovemarvel16 @windexwanda @captainweirdo42 @weasleypottersblog @sweetiepiezz @valentinedays @nothisispatrick300 @heartsatoru @flamealchemiste @redrum-and-diamonds @hannadesimp @m0ch1nut @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @nobody289x @deccahh @siriusoswaldsupremacy @watyousayin @poetrylovingwerewolf-blog @mimizsworld @milaaakebosss @icryduringgsexx

#kinktober #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #anime #smut #jjk smut #geto suguru #geto smut #getou suguru x reader #jjk getou #geto x reader #jjk geto #getou suguru smut #geto suguru x you