#i’ll find out when i re-read it though

[actualtoad]

mutuals idk if any of you have read little women but if you ever did which of the sisters was your favorite im so interested

#i really liked beth for the record #and sympathized with amy because she was the youngest and a crybaby #and i was the youngest for a long time and also a crybaby #but beth was my favorite if i remember correctly #i read it in seventh or eighth grade though #so im not sure if current me would feel the same way. probably im old enough now to relate to jo #anyway im looking at etsy and they have scarves with the words of little women written on them???? #which is. rad. they have a bunch of classic books #and of the classic books i’ve only read like a quarter or a third probably #so most of the book reader merch on etsy doesn’t exactly apply to me but some of it does #including the little women stuff. but i really need to re-read that book it’s been forever #me. my post. mine. #delete later (probably) #ok to rb but also ok to comment or send an ask or just never answer me shdhdf #im interested though. or like which do you think would be your favorite if you read it now #because i do think mine might be jo as opposed to beth this time around #but idk. beth is my best friend top tier if i remember correctly. so i would never actually abandon her #i’ll find out when i re-read it though

[screampied]

‘ ONE OF HIS GIRLSSSS ! ,

ᡴꪫ‎ sum. toji ends up finding out maybe his best friend's daughter isn’t so innocent after all once he walks in on you and your precious 12k viewers. he grows amused by your little side hustle as a cam girl. but actually, maybe having him as a special guest wasn’t so bad. (girl it was)

wc. 6k

warnings. fem! reader, vōyerism, dad's best friend! toji, age gap (reader is over twenty), unprotected, praise, dirty talk, squírting, cunnílingus, slight dumbification, impact play, size kink, spit.

dbf! toji masterlist

“guys, i’m serious,” you’d utter, your monitor staring right back at you — a full live audience of over twelve thousand eyes listening to you speak. you were cooped up in your room, slouching on your chair with your legs pressed together. “he’s totally real. we even almost got caught one time.”

you were referring to your dad’s best friend, toji…

just muttering his name aloud made you feel all sorts of tingles. oh, to think how that 'one time' was just about three days ago. you still remember everything like it just happened, the intoxicating taste of toji’s lips, his unforgettable loud cologne scent, how fucking mean he was, you missed him, who were you even kidding. last time you checked, him and your father went out somewhere. you didn’t bother to care where, probably fishing or something.

skimming through the plethora of donations with filthy questions, thirsty provocative questions that desperately craved your attention, you read one, “how is he in bed, oh—well,” and you squeeze your thighs before re-adjusting your screen. “he’s okay. i had to fake my orgasms a few times though, figures ‘cause he’s kinda old.”

“oh yeah?”

as if on cue, there toji stood—right outside your doorway, hands buried in his deep roots of pockets and that same unreadable expression. he’s sending you straight daggers, you crane your neck to glance at him before you panic, “uh, i’ll talk to you guys later.”

“nah keep that shit on, girl,” he shakes his head, trodding his bare feet towards you. you mentally face palm. you could have sworn he was out somewhere with your father. “just when i thought ya couldn’t get even freakier,” he mutters, and he’s now behind you—green irises peering at your monitor. the chat suddenly spams with some of your audience lusting over toji, wondering if he’s a special guest. “heyyy,” he says to the screen, his voice was a pitchy low and then you gasp once he throws an arm around you. “is he a special guest?” and then he turns to you with a sly grin. “i don’t know, princess . . am i?”

“. . . i mean i guess,” you speak, not even realizing how your tone softens a bit. this always happened, whenever you were just a few feet away from toji, you’d feel so tense. it’s officially been a week since the two of you were screwing around—you hadn’t gotten caught, at least you think you haven’t gotten caught. the thrill of it all though, it was enticing. he eyes your little set up and he’s amused more than anything. “this is the guy i was telling you guys about,” you avert your dilated pupils back towards the bright screen. “this is . . . toji.”

“heh yo,” he scoffs at the screen with a greet, seeing how your confidence fades the moment he’s in the room with you. toji leans beside you, eyeing the lewd comments before one catches his eye. “tell him to turn around. what for?”

you sheepishly grin at the webcam, knowing some of your aroused fans wanted to take a quick peek at toji’s ass. to be fair, you couldn’t exactly blame them. you stare a bit yourself, and it was definitely. . . something.

three new tips from mod gojoclitoru: girl bye he looks like he doesn’t shower

wormfucker69: he looks like the guy who works @ my cleaners lol

shokostrapdestroyer: Where’s Shoko ?????

kanyeastinfection: Soooo hawt ;)

iloveosamudazai: i miss nanamin

“how come y’er all shy? i heard what you’ve been saying ‘bout me, y’know,” toji mumbles. he stands tall, cracking his neck towards the left. his entire frame, he was always so handsome. you take a moment to glance up at him, his perfectly chiseled physique. he looked like he was about to head to the gym, he had on a simple wife beater with dingy grey sweats. his gaze he had towards you was purely tantalizing. “. . ah,” he inches closer towards you, bending down as you sat on the office chair, getting right up close to your face. “why don’t you repeat that last bit for me. you fake your orgasms with this old man?”

“i didn’t ….” you trail off, trying to come up with some excuse. suddenly, it felt hot. you felt hot.

your heart starts to race the more he stared you down. the chat was going at a much more rapid speed, it’s like your viewer count doubled the moment toji entered. then you thought—maybe this would do you some good, having him as a special guest didn’t seem so bad.

he lightly grabs your chin, making you peer straight into his eyes. “i stay away from you for three days ‘n it seems like you forgot how to act.”

toji did have a point precisely, for the last three days you basically had the entire house to yourself. him and your father went out to some business trip, you missed him though.

of course, if you tagged along you’d be sure you’d both get caught so you just offered to watch over the house. it was as if the more time you spent with toji, the more you started to feel something.

you didn’t know what it was, it was hard to put into detail, put into pure words—but you knew for certain, you didn’t wanna stop seeing him. it was spring break after all…

“i meant what i said,” you mutter.

while returning his gaze, toji’s eyes widen for a bit, off guard by your sudden switch of attitude. you had a bit of a plan, you decided if you played along, your sweet thousands of fans would eat it up. and they were, the repetitive high-pitch sounds of constant donations rang through your ears before you continue to speak. “i faked everything, toji.”

his eyes linger into you for a long time before he drags a thumb down your lip. “well shit. that so?” and his voice—it pitches a dangerous tune. you already start to feel your thighs squeeze together more tightly. “mhm,” he grunts, watching you nod your head in response. he scoffs to himself before grumbling. “maybe i should make it more real for you then.”

with such simple words, trust and believe he does.

toji’s way of making it more real was to simply have you ride his face, all in front of your audience too.

for some reason, you felt burning up coming to the sheer realization that literally all eyes were simply on you. a quick glance at your blue light monitor and the viewer count displayed a hefty whopping amount of 12,295. all you could think about it was the hefty bank you were about to make.

your legs quaver as toji’s laid flat on your old bed, having you take your seat right on his face — his breath is hot as he runs his tongue alongside your inner thighs before giving you a stare. “eyes down here, not them,” he snarls, and you moan once he spanks your pre-soaked clit, your panties still attached. “they aren’t about to fuckin’ eat you out, are they?”

“n—no,” you murmur out, looking down back at him and he slowly runs a fat thumb down your slit.

oh, you were soaked alright.

a cute little damp spot between the middle part of your underwear makes an appearance and he slides his tongue all against it. he’s so slow with it all, making sure to take his time to make you pout out for him. “toji,” you mumble, feeling your tummy sink in before you huff out a single breath. he’s still so attractive, even underneath you—a little yet nice amount of facial hair scatters near certain parts of his face. scattered specks of brief darkened hair near his sharp jaw paint his face like an empty canvas. you run a finger against his chin and he shoots you a sleazy grin. “hurry up, toji.”

dark eyes flicker back towards you before he gifts your sopping pussy a mean spank. “hurry up toji,” he mocks your tone. you melodically whimper, watching as he licks a single stripe between your covered slit. “shut the fuck up. ‘m gonna take my time with you since apparently you ‘fake’ everything.”

you couldn’t help but merely slip out a giggle, your comment really offended him in some way. obviously, you were joking though—you and toji both knew he knew how to snatch multiple orgasms out of you at once. he was quite a skilled man without question, with his tongue—his dick, literally anything.

although, you snap out of your salacious thoughts the moment you feel him latch his tongue against your folds. it took you a minute to realize your panties were already off, he practically ripped them off and he was already digging in. you whimper, hovering your weight over his face before staring at the lit up monitor.

BIGDICKKUNA: Even my domain has better camera quality than this

gojoclitoru: here sukuna go…

FOXYKITTEN2940: clean up aisle my pants >.<

you’re starting to grind against his face, a hand combing through his hair before your bite your lip. toji stares at you, dragging a thumb down your puffy slit before leaning back to spit on it. he was always such a sloppy man—no shame in the world. you’d feel yourself pulsate whenever he did that, departing his lips away from your cunt before collecting a good wad of saliva to coat your folds with such a sheeny translucent color.

squelch after squelch, undeniably you were sopping. his nose briefly prods against your nub and you whine once he finally starts to actually eat you out.

“f-fuckkk.” you’d breathe, intaking a sharp breath. sudden dizziness overtook you—a thrum escapes from your sheeny lips as you rock your hips forward. it was hypnotic, the way you move against his mouth. toji looked so pretty underneath you too. his eyes, so hooded and half lidded—such a hungry gaze, a starved animal. he starts tantalizingly slow at first, making sure to lay the flat of his tongue against your entrance before simply digging in.

side—to—side, his head continues to swiftly shift and move as he’s devouring his meal, a thumb continues to strum against your slick arousal before he starts to suck, suck, suck.

candy, a perfect way to describe your taste in toji’s humblest opinion. he could never get enough, a few long strands of his hair tickles against your thighs as he resumes his sloppy eating. “mhm. pull on it.” he says between hot breaths, and you feel a sudden fire ignite inside of you. you knew immediately he was referring to his hair. such ruffled, messy strands desperately awaiting to be tugged by your fingers.

so you do—you take a good grab, lightly yanking him forward and he grunts.

“. . harder,” he rasps, and he’s already starting to look blissed out. eyes all glazed over, you wriggle over his face before you feel a sudden shiver overtake you. you pull harder and his face goes right against your cunt. you sloppily swipe against his nose like a credit card and he smirks at you. “that’s what ‘m talking about. ride my face, girl.”

his words, his filthy vulgarly words guide you through it all.

each pulse makes you twitch even more—each breath that runs out your mouth feels like it’s going to be your last, especially with a tongue like toji’s. he makes sure not to miss a drop, slurping quite everything out of you. he was a man—not necessarily a clean one, but he was never scared of a little mess. you start to coat the bottom part of his chin with your slit, it’s glistening so much.

after a while, toji’s already drunk off of your sweetened taste. every few flicks of his tongue against your nub makes cute whimpers coo out your throat and you only tighten the grip against his hair.

“r-right there, ‘s good when you suck there, toji.”

“cause i know what the fuck ‘m doing.” he grumbles back, bringing his same thumb to slide down your slit. he repeats it again and again. smearing your own mess right back on you, only to clean it up. he was a messy man, and with a tasty pussy that you had—you only made him ten times messier.

he was never one to complain though, toji’s the type to never say thank you—he shows you how grateful he is, it involves with being between your legs.

toji fushiguro…

a sleazy man without a single care in the word, maybe messing around his with best friend’s daughter slash colleague was a bit taboo. but did he care—no, was he gonna stop doing it—no, was he perhaps catching feelings for you the more time he spends with you? were you catching feelings?

. . .

unanswered questions, even if you asked yourself that question, you honestly couldn’t even know how to reply. the two of you never really labeled anything, so this was just a simple spring break fling right?

once courses resume and you go back to your well prestige university your father got you into due to connections, that’d probably be the last you’d see of him. toji fushiguro, the man you’ve been screwing around with for the past almost two weeks. it’s almost safe to say that you started to get attached to his presence—sometimes it’s like the two of you didn’t even care if you got caught. there was literally a time where toji fingered you under the table during dinner.

that was . . embarrassing.

the way you were trying to withhold a conversation with your father—he’s just rambling you about what a boring day he had at the office and you’re over here gushing on his best friend’s fingers. you find yourself thinking about that specific moment all too well—as well as the various other ones, him fucking you on the hood of his car, in the living room, and even the bathroom—which your panties ended up getting found.

oops.

“told you to keep those fuckin’ eyes on me,” he hoarsely rasps—snapping you out of your lewd reminiscing fantasm. his tongue, it’s swirling all against your clit as you focus your attention back towards him. with two big hands, he holds your jerky hips steady—feeling you rut against his mouth before he feels you pulse right in his mouth. “yeah.” he mutters, bringing two digits to prod towards your slick entrance. you whine, feeling him slowly insert them with ease—so wet, he was almost in awe at how you were dripping like a faucet. not even a faucet could compare nor describe how sodden your sweet cunt was. each lap he makes with his tongue gets more filthy, it turns into sucking before you’re practically spasming all over again.

you moan, hands still tight and rigidly tangled within his strands before you take a quick peek at your laptop. so many eyes were on you—so many more eyes now, the count was steadily doubling, the donations you were receiving made your mouth nearly water. tip after tip, your pupils turned into green dollar signs. this was probably the most viewers you had in the entirety of your little cam girl side hustle.

all thanks to toji.

you’re getting close, it’s inevitable—especially with the way your hips continue to rock back and forth. a cute rhythm he got accustomed to, toji brings two rough hands towards the fat mounds of your ass before squeezing it. he was always a handsy man, feeling all over your body. green pools of eyes stare right at you as you’re intaking each staggering breath that escapes your spit-glossed lips. “c-close, toji,” you’d babble out, your knees almost buckle—a sudden twinge pouring into your lower abdomen before you mewl. “gonna—cum, gonna—”

“baby hold it,” he says sternly, the base in his voice never failing to make you wet. he breaks his lips away for a moment before he glances at the screen—an upside down position. “hm. chat, should the pretty girl finish early?”

your heart drops—you knew how many trolls you had in your audience, and before you could cutely tell him to just let you climax, he hums in amusement at the incoming flood of comments.

chososbootylicker29: Petition to have Toji oiled and cheeked up

zorosballswallower: NOOOOO

anonymoususer: dad?

gojoclitoru: lol no.

and with many others the comments continue to flood.

majority of the answers being no—you hated being edged, loathed it. especially with toji because he was so damn mean. he snickers, reading the responses upside down before you feel the two tips of his fingers shove way deep inside you. your back arches and you whine ore he holds your hips in place with a single hand. “looks like y’er little fans want you to wait pretty girl,” and you look down at him with a cute glare—his lips depart and his entire mouth from the very bottom of his chin was damp. even still, he looked so attractive. “cute. a glare ain’t gonna change nothing though,” and a pout shortly stretched against your lips as he runs his tongue near your frantic pulsing clit. he brings a spank to it and it makes you whine. “be a good girl ‘n wait a little longer.”

“i can’t,” you frown out, and that only earns another sharp spank towards your folds.

“yes you fuckin’ can,” and you start to whine once he stops eating you out. it felt so warm, all of a sudden the cold air wafts against your skin and you shudder. toji loves more than anything to spank your pussy whilst staring right into your eyes. “if i tell my girl to wait, she’s gonna wait.”

my girl…

for some reason, that made your pulsing ten times worse, a plethora of butterflies arise inside your stomach and you’re still just hovering over his face.

he palpates his fingers—not his tongue to rummage all inside your cunt, you frown cutely. you wanted his tongue, not his stubby thick fingers. although, the thing you wanted most was to finish. as you grind against his face, you feel his infamous scar run against your pussy and it tickles. it tickles in such a way that it drags out a sweet crying moan from you.

“t—toji,” you start to grow impatient. he’s just teasing you, blowing against your folds with warm breath, swiping his nose alongside your sopping entrance, anything but tasting you again. he likes seeing you like this, on the brink of tears because you got denied a climax. it started to come closer and closer until once it was finally there—you puff up your cheeks for a split second before moaning. “g-god, i can’t hold it. ‘m gonna cummm.”

“wait,” he utters in a husky rasp, watching as you quaveringly hover over his face—chin just soaked with your arousal, he licks the bottom of his lip before tittering at you. “you finish when i’m ready.”

“f-fuck you,” you whimper, and you end up cumming anyway—he’s taken aback but it only arouses him even more. the brat, oh the brat that you were. one of the many things he liked about you, you were submissive but not entirely—you had a backbone, you talked back to him, you even had the nerve to roll those pretty eyes at him.

it hits you like a semi-truck.

illegal full speed, the brakes were had to step on and you feel it just strike right into you at full force. your orgasm, you scoot your hips forward against his mouth and now he’s the one glaring at you. toji laps up all of you, two fingers spreading your clit apart before he spits on it again. “you just don’t listen, huh,” and his voice was even lower than it was before—a rich baritone lingering underneath it. you’re riding out your climax when he lightly shoves you on the bed.

in your mind, you’re thinking . .

finally, the good part.

toji grimaces at the cute smile that goes against your lips. you’re eager just as him— not to mention, it’s been three days since he’s touched you. “don’t get too excited, brat,” he grumbles with a scowl tugging the corners of his mouth. he plops onto the bed before staring down at you. “bend the fuck over for me. fake orgasm my ass.”

so blunt, you immensely comply—so impatient for him to just be inside of you.

the piles of donations triple by this point, and you try to take a peep at your screen before he spanks your ass. “ass up, face down little girl. don’t got all day.”

“sorryyy,” you giggle with a mere eye roll.

testing toji’s patience was always so fun for you. for whatever reason, getting on his nerves really turned you on. once you finally bend over for him, two hands grab the fats of your ass and you bite your lip once he prepares to align himself. you’re facing your bright lit screen.

the comments talking more about toji than you and you pout . . . figures though. he’s hot, no wonder all the attention would be on him instead of you.

with his right hand, he wraps it around his thick length before rubbing his tip against your pre-drenched entrance. he grunts, witnessing how your pussy tries to swallow him so easily…

you’re puckering, awaiting for him to stuff you full as you’re slump right into the mattress. “but sweetheart, y’er not sorry,” he grunts, smacking his fat tip against your slick folds. a soft mewl runs out the back of your throat before you arch just a bit more. with another spank, he snarls in a huff, “not gonna fuck ya that easy. y’er gonna have to use those manners if you wanna get what you want.”

“huh?”

“huh?” he mocks, kissing your ass with another spank from his palm. “you can’t hear? speak, girl. talk ‘ta me nice.”

glossy eyes of yours avert towards your screen, everyone’s lusting over toji and it only fuels his ego even more—you easily felt yourself throb, a pout never leaving your lips before you inhale.

“please . . ” you start, feeling him softly drag a hand against your curves, your physique. his touch always had you weak, taking in every part of your frame. all his . . just for these few weeks.

“please what?”

“please f—fuck me,” you grumble, and you’re growing more and more irritated—he hums to himself, amused. each second you spend speaking, each second he could be inside of you. you and him both knew that.

toji rubs his leaky tip with a bit more pressure against your pussy, just a a little more and he’d be inside. you started to feel your mouth salivate before you start to whine. “hm,” he ponders to himself, green eyes occasionally staring at the laptop that had about hundreds of comments spamming per second. “fine. i feel like bein’ nice to you today, especially since i haven’t seen my girl in a hot minute,” and again, he refers to you as his girl. it sends an unfamiliar feeling of butterflies brewing up in your stomach before he spanks you for probably the umpteenth time now. “now, arch a liiiitle more ‘n stare at your fans for me, yeah.”

you’re propped on the mattress with your ass all up in the air. from your screen as you stare at it, you spot toji’s mirroring reflection. that sly smile that slowly and gradually forms against his lips.

“lie the fuck down.” he mutters, feeling you try to sit up. you do, intaking a single breath before you feel him huff out a low puff. toji’s eyes stare right at your ass, he takes every moment in. the way you suck him in, it’s just filthy. the saturated squelches that shortly follow afterward—so filthy.

a six letter word to perfectly describe this entire situation.

arched over for your dad’s best friend, who would have thought—not you, not in a million years.

“ . . . shit,” he pants, and you’re so wet. you moan, pawing at the fat silk sheets in front of you. so many flooded comments of your audience merely thirsting over toji, wishing desperately that they were in your position. ( . . quite literally . . )

and toji’s just so fucking big.

he’s got a lofty height of inches under his belt.

metaphorically speaking—just a single sharp thrust and you’re speechless.

the wind gets snatched out of your lungs and it’s so vigorous that your head’s spinning. this entire angle, he’s got you right where he wants you—on all fours with your ass perked up. toji can’t keep his hands to himself anyway, his hands roam all over your waist before holding both hips in place. clammy hands just about stick to your skin before he starts to create a decent pace.

a slow pace — a slow pace that turns more mean.

languidly, you feel yourself leaning to his touch as he runs a hand down your spine.

toji brings one leg up to deepen the position and not even moments later, your lips part.

“t—toji . . ah ah,” and you don’t even recognize yourself. he repositions himself for a split second, making haste with his hips before sliding his feet right past your knees. with this, it’s more stimulation and you feel it all. just the right amount of pressure, his balls sharply thwack against your ass and it makes your mind cloud up with fuzz.

“. . damn,” he groans, a hand grabbing towards the back of your university hoodie. as he leans forward, dark viridescent colored pupils stare at your rear. the way it jerks and recoils against him, everytime . . it’s the best part. even more when he spanks it, deepening his hips against your cunt to earn out a cute whine or two from you. for what seemed like the millionth time, toji kisses the right cheek of your ass with various spanks. the sting has you gnawing on your lip like it’s candy, curling your toes up with a few droplets of sweat coating the bridge of your nose. “missed this pussy, three days too fuckin’ long, brat.”

“i missed you t—.”

“girl hello? i wasn’t talking to you.”

you frown, and it follows from a snicker from him.

“. . . so dramatic,” he’d eye roll once he hears you blow out a cute sigh. “fine, i did miss you,” and that was only a half lie. you knew in actuality, he missed what’s between your legs. toji still remained sassy as usual, it never left and it’d always stay. he’s buried all into you, deep to the hilt that each time his angry reddened tip drives against that spot, you squeal out in sweet pleasure.

it didn’t take him long to locate it, your g-spot. after a while you start to feel your pussy open, spreading wide—gaping. he was so ridiculously big, it’s leaving such question marks floating over your forehead because how can someone be this thick.

with a gruff—toji groans, veins bulging through his veins as he yanks your hoodie forward into him. he’s lenient, at least for a good while. letting you have your fun, get drunk off his cock before he edges you a more . . . oh just maybe.

gojoclitoru: does anyone want the link to my only fans :(

willbang4curses: Idk who I wanna be more…

iamnotsugurugetoseriouslyiamnothim: i want your only fans @/gojoclitoru

hotpeach03: Toji please I’m a single mom

your chat continues to spate, it’s so much that as your eyes watch them all flood down the logs, you could barely read the words.

he’s so deep inside, you’re almost drooling.

the stretch—he always leaves you so full, lips all parted and that same gaping mouth opening. pant after pant, you’re heaving heavily with your chest feeling tight and warm. “so deep,” you’d shriek, and he makes your arch lower just a bit further. he’s hitting all the right spots, not missing a single area. his dick retreats as it pulls out, then back again—twitching all inside of your cunt, he lunges forward with his hips before making you plop on your chest. “. . . .ohmygodohmygoddd,” and you were so whiney, you still can’t believe such pathetic noises slither past your damp lips. engulfed with your warm gummy walls squeezing him tight, he spanks you again . . . and again, and again.

“miss me that bad, huh?” he starts to speak. his voice was a pitchy rasp. a gruff base hides underneath it and you can hear the grit lingering like he needs to clear his throat. nevertheless, you throb anyway as he’s jackhammering his cock right into your swollen cunt over, and over, and over. “that why ya keep walkin’ around with these outfits? with no fuckin’ panties underneath, yeah?”

“forgot,” you whimper, shuddering once you feel toji grow playful. he trails his thumb towards your neglected puckering hole, fiddling with it just to get a reaction out of you, and he does. “s-sorry, ‘m sorry.”

“you don’t just forget to put panties on, slut,” he groans, and he feels himself approaching soon. it’s at the tip of his tongue—he feels the burn arise in the lower parts of his thighs, veins contouring to bulge all throughout his body. “wonder what y’er old man would think. ya only pull this shit ‘cause ‘s just you ‘n me here.”

he was right.

then again—if you’d have your father here, you’d never pull a bold stunt like that.

you’d rather drop dead than save yourself the embarrassment. funny though, considering the amount of times you almost got caught.

“so . . ” you mumble, and that’s when he presses his weight right against you this time. ah, prone bone.

you were really in for it now, thickly you swallow before his weight merely hovers over your ass, really deep in you this time.

he vigorously rams his thick cock into your sweltering cunt that’s hugging him oh so tight. he’s such a tease too—using every few chances he gets to poke and gingerly rub a thumb against your pulsating hole.

sweet moans die from your throat as you’re clinging onto the bed—such force that the springs nearly collapse from the whopping amounts of weight creating sheer impact. each thrust, it rings rapidly throughout your ears before toji groans. “f—fuck,” he’d groan, ignoring your little attempts of pure bratiness. you were at your wits end, smothering your glossed lips together before you feel his rounded cockhead mash against your most forbidden spots. spots that was so deep inside the inner areas of your cunt that it makes you mewl out in pure ecstasy. “gonna make me fill you up, princess,” he huffs out, tugging even tighter on the bottom part of your cerulean blue pull over. “s—shit,” and his gruff voice pitches time and time again. for a moment, you think you can hear toji whimper. it was real subtle though, but you heard it. loud and clearly. “gonna take it like you always do?”

“yesyesyes,” you nod—words pouring out of your lips like a waterfall, kneading your fingers into your palms as you bawled up the bedsheets right into your hands. with hooded droopy eyes, you stare at the screen with a dumb expression—he then takes the opportunity to get closer, grabbing you by the hair before holding your head up in front of your thousands of viewers.

“yes what, girl.”

you whine, feeling how perfectly his dick mashed throughout your folds—so easy for him, he was so thick that the stretch was simply immaculate.

“yesss, ‘m gonna take your c-cum, toji,” you’d pant, feeling your own eyes roll backwards—you probably looked a mess in front of your own thirteen thousand viewers, but you could care less. all that your empty brain could fathom was how you were ludicrously stuffed with his hefty cock. he’s drilling into you so good that that it almost feels like a massage. rough fingers run down your spine with one hand, another holding your head by the hair like it’s a prized possession before you whimper. “fuck me, fuck me, fuh—”

toji slaps a hand over your mouth the minute he hears something from downstairs—sure enough, it had to be your father.

shit.

he must have came home early. you remember him mentioning to you he was taking a trip to the corner store after work, probably to get some booze for him and toji to enjoy for some dumb football game.

“honeyyy? you up there?”

you moan, almost feeling your eyelids grow heavy as he’s still holding your head up in front of your laptop—his reflection in the screen just pounding into you at full speed.

already, you’re coating the back of his hand with nothing but your damp saliva—such a dirty girl, preferably his dirty girl.

maybe you were a bit delusional, no. you were very delusional—maybe this could go somewhere? then. again, it was no secret on how toji’s only around to get his dick wet, a reality that you forevermore choose to ignore—until you’d soon find out how that would bite you in the ass later on.

dead silence—you’re just muffling out mewls right into his mouth, and as if on cue, toji ends up finishing inside of you. it’s so much, velvety ropes of hot nut that fill the very insides of your pussy, shooting straight into your womb that your tummy flutters. it’s so much to where it spews out of your hole, he’s gotta poke his thumb in and swipe some out with the way it continues to leak. it’s so dirty, then again—toji fushiguro was a dirty man, the dirtiest.

“are ya gonna reply ‘n let y’er old man know you’re getting off his best friend’s cock or . . ?”

his words, such a tease that he’s still slowly pumping into you. gradually but slow, he plugs into your walls—seeping with cum that oozes out of your folds and you stare at the screen with a cute cock-drunken expression. “mmph,” was your reply, the only reply you could formulate since his big hand almost covered your entire face. so you give him a concise nod, hooded eyes feeling dry from staring at the screen for so many amount of minutes.

eventually, your father leaves and returns back to what he was doing . . . phew.

“that’s right,” he whispers in a low risqué tone, bringing a kiss towards the left part of your neck.

so tender—you’re gathering the strength to sit up but you end up slumping forward. with a pathetic, ‘oof’ you land on your chest, your own climax at the very edge. it’s cute because you end up finishing around the same time—your chest feels heavy, lungs tightly collapsing and all. the perfect way to describe your orgasm was a bomb—a bomb that was ticking and ticking, preparing to detonate before it finally does. instead, the destruction was you squirting, all over toji’s dick that stuffed you full. he’s so close up to your ear, hot breath fanning against your earlobe before he continues to speak. “. . oh, y’er fuckin’ dumb right now, aren’t ya. can barely speak.” and he removes his hand to where a trail of your spit departs. so lewd, you’re spasming from your recent release before with a quick glance—you stare at your monitor. you surpassed your tip goal by a huge milestone, yet like toji said—you were too dumb to even process let alone acknowledge it.

“t—toji,” you whimper, feeling the remnants of his sweet and savory seed pour down the crevices of your thighs. it was sticky, sticking to your skin like glue, sweltering of its entirety.

“come here, princess.”

it surprised you. for once, he was being . . . soft.

you reach backwards, closing your laptop before leaning right into toji. you moan, feeling his beefy ripped arms wrap around you, bringing you right into his embrace. bulky arms go around your waist and he pulls you into a sloppily heated kiss.

simultaneously, your heart skips a few beats—a few, probably an understatement. he tastes sweet, you could make out a brief tang of liquor on his tongue—a taste you didn’t want to ever forget. as your tongue rummages against his, you moan once he gets a bit handsy, a hand going right between your legs to feel the mess he made. the mess you made yourself also.

breathy pants could be heard from your lips as you press your dampish perspiring hands all on his bare chest. he’s wearing a somewhat of a formal shirt — you tug on his collar, yearning for him to come closer, to touch you more, hold you more. something, whatever it was was just brewing up inside of the very depths, the very pits of your stomach.

toji groans, the warmth of his breath wafting against yours before he pulls you away to get a good glimpse of you. a big hand holds your waist, and his eyes peer into you for a long time before as if he hesitates—he kisses the top of your forehead, only to stare away with a scowl.

“. . . toji,” you murmur, and by this point you weren’t speaking with your brain—more so with your heart. it was apparent, especially with the way your droopy hooded eyes suddenly soften the moment you speak out the two syllables in his name.

“let me speak first.” he grouses, a thumb stringing alongside your back, gently strumming against your skin. with the way you gazed at him, making him lie back before aligning yourself, it was clear as day that you wanted more of him. he leans back, long strands of black hair run down his face with his legs sprawled before he prepares to finish.

you straddle him, sitting flat on his lap and he’s so warm—he’s a bit flustered, flaccid from his release and of course a bit sensitive. it’s quite rare to see toji in such a . . . vulnerable state. perhaps you soften him in a few ways or less. at least, that’s what you’d like to think.

it takes him a long time to formulate the words, it’s as if his tongue was tied—weird for him considering it’s toji, he’s always direct and blunt.

and yet for once, you have him speechless.

toji lets off a irritated sigh before while what seems like forever, he mutters out a gruff, “shit. i . . i think ‘m in love with you.”

“ . . . ”

#★vegasbaby. #toji smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #fushiguro toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #female reader #anime smut #cw sex mention

[ohcaptains]

abby love spell

pairing. abby anderson x f!reader

synopsis. abby’s been handsy all damn day. can’t even take her hands off of you on patrol, where she should be focusing on something far more important...like staying alive. naively, you think watching a movie will distract her. it’s no use, really.

an. anyway slay. this is based off of this request that someone sent years, nay, millennia ago. what can i say, i was busy procrastinating writing and focusing on playing the game. again. pls enjoy, comment and reblog, etc. it makes the gay thoughts stronger<3 (not showing in tags so reblogs appreciated)

warnings. 18+. please do not read or interact with my blog if you’re a minor. do not copy my shit, i’ll find out. hand on throat (no choking), house wife kink, f!receiving penetration, strap on sex, lots of description of spit because i’m insane. references to oral, but no description. soz. maybe next time champ. 

Something was up with Abby. 

She’d always been an affectionate girlfriend, but today, she was stuck to you like glue. The pair of you, alongside Manny and Nora, had left for patrol in the morning. You had been busy making sure the truck was stocked, while Abby was busy trying to find a way to keep her hands on you at all times. 

You were bent over the crates, checking and re-checking the contents, when her hands had slid onto your hips, thumbs looping into the belt buckles. 

You went to flinch, hand coming out to grab hers, but you felt the familiar scabs on her knuckles. The familiar bumps of her veins – the map you knew off by heart.

“Hi Abby,” you sang, patting the back of her hand. Her chest pushed against your back, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “Whatcha doing?” she asked, fully aware of what you were doing. 

You answered her though – anything to keep her locked against you like this. There were a couple of layers of fabric between you, but you could still feel the heat radiating off of her.

“Packing the guns.”

Abby hummed, then grabbed at your hip, using it to twist you to face her. You grunted an oft! grabbing the lapels of her jacket to stabilise yourself.

“Shit – Abby,” you scorned, but she ignored you. Instead, she flexed her arms, and you couldn’t see the lines of muscles due to her jacket, but the bulge of her biceps was there all the same.

“Already got 'em, look,” she grinned, wiggling her brows, and you patted her chest, an amused frown on your face.

“What is with you?” you asked, smoothing out her jacket. “Ben put a little something extra in your porridge this morning?”

“I’m just my regular, goofy ol’ self – what do you mean?”

Her blue gaze flicked to your top, visible from underneath your open jacket.

“That’s my top,” she said, matter-of-factly. “Oh yeah – sorry,” you quickly spoke, glancing down at it, and thus not noticing the tick in Abby’s jaw. She always loved you in her clothes. Loved the way they draped over you – especially the jagged arm holes she cut into them. 

The fabric would always hang loose at your sides, and she’d spend all day glimpsing at the drag of it over your chest. “Lights went out in the East block when you were at the gym. Had to get dressed in the dark—” you’re cut off, the surprise of Abby’s head dropping against your chest rendering your vocabulary to just one word, "Abby!”

“Mm,” she hummed, pushing her forehead between your breasts, “smells like me.” “Abby—” you said again, a giggle cracking at your lips. Your hands fumbled for her shoulders, shoving her away, or at least trying to – Abby was dead weight. You admired her strength. Loved it, but it was times like this when it was a hindrance to your mental stability. Finally, she stretched back to her height, shit eating grin on her face. 

You were too busy transfixed on her features, that you didn’t notice her hands coming out to the bottom of your coat. Suddenly, she pulled the zip up to the top, and she knocked your chin up with her knuckle, leaning down to give you a deep kiss.

You went somewhere else for a second, the drag of her tongue knocking reality out of the way. Melted, succumb to her sudden overwhelming taste -- but she pulled away too soon.

“Cold out,” she grinned, hands rubbing at the length of your now-covered chest, and you were too dazed to respond.

It was like that all. Damn. Day.

She never once stopped playing around with you. 

She’d boost you up walls, hands sliding under your thighs in an attempt to push you up. Hand at the bottom of your back to signal you to walk faster, hands on your hips to pull you out of the way. 

Pulling you around like a damn rag doll. 

Nice shot, she’d say, when it was actually pretty average. 

Good girl, she casually praised, after you’d jumped and grabbed her arm, letting her pull you up onto a roof. That one had got you -- had to take a second to gather yourself as she spoke to Manny about which direction you were going.

Got to an abandoned warehouse and she pulled you to the side, sparing a few minutes to kiss you against a stack of boxes.

What’re you doing? You’d asked, and all she said was, kissing my girlfriend.

Now, you’re trying to watch a movie together. 

Or at least, you’re trying to watch a movie – she’s too busy touching you to focus on the plot. 

You’re comfy on your shared bed, resting on her broad chest as you sit between her muscular thighs, and she’s keeping you there by the arm she’s got slung around your front – bicep on your shoulder – as she lazily kisses at your neck.

It’s distracting, to say the least.

“’um trying to watch,” you whisper, eyes fluttering closed for a brief second. The movie buzzes at you – an 80’s flick, all electronic beams, and bright colours. It’s about robots, and when Mel had brandished the disk in front of you last month, you’d been eager to have a watch. 

Now, the direction Abby’s mouth is taking is far more interesting. 

She scatters lazy, wet smooches over your neck, pausing before she places another as if she’s painting a picture. The drag of it makes you lethargic — makes you comfy and loose in Abby’s grip.

You want nothing more than to give into her touch. You’ve spent the whole day trying to shove down the overwhelming feeling of desire that she’d been pulling out of you. But you’ve been meaning to watch this movie for months.

No, you tell yourself. Focus. You breathe in, and shake your head, snapping back to the screen.

Abby hums. She’s so warm and soft -- her muscular chest surprisingly comfortable – that it’s lulling you into a sense of submission. You rest back against her, enveloped in her arms. Enveloped in the soft brush of her lips against your throat.

Focus, you repeat to yourself.

Got to give this movie back to Mel tomorrow, she’s been asking for it for weeks. “You can watch,” Abby whispers, brushing her mouth over your ear. The wetness of her lips forces a shiver down your spine. You try and run from it, shuffling in her grip, but Abby keeps you steady – lazily locked against you with her arm slung over your shoulder. “Just let me kiss you,” she breathes, placing a soft, delicate one on your ear lobe. Your eyes flutter again. She smells fresh from the shower. Smells clean, like her soap – pine and mint. Her hair is down too – you love it when her hair is down – and it hangs long, smelling like…strawberries? Your shampoo. Fuck fuck fuck. You shake your head, “can’t focus on the movie when you’re kissing me like that.” Abby smiles against your neck, and you feel it – feel it curve against your skin. “Sounds like a you problem.” “You’re an asshole,” you whisper, and she laughs.

“Just be quiet and watch the movie,” she orders, wide palm rubbing your bare thigh. “Quit whining.”

You grumble, mumbling something under your breath, but you do go quiet, and thankfully, she does slow her kissing. Resorts to nuzzling your neck instead, while her left hand continues to rub at your thigh. 

It is nice, and you manage a couple of minutes of this, relaxing and watching the movie before you feel her hand sliding upwards.

You inhale sharply. Breathe in her scent. Wait for her to slow down. Wait for her to stop. Yet she never does. 

Her long, thick fingers leisurely flutter over your bare skin as her hand inches to where you suddenly want it – God, do you – tantalisingly close to the boxers you’re wearing. Hers. 

Your whole outfit is hers and you swear she’s going to touch you, or at least brush her fingers against you, but she pulls back. Slides her hand away, wide palm retreating to your knee.

Disappointment twangs.

You try not to think about it, but the buzz she’d sparked settles low in your belly.

The film continues with its garish colours and cheesy dialogue. Buzzes and crackles, its movie star taking up the screen for an up-close shot. You swallow down the fluttering of your heart.

She’s still kissing you.

Her lips are wet, exploring. Nose cold as it nuzzles against your ear lobe, breath warm as she breathes, and her tongue darts out, skimming over your throat before she kisses the spit away. You hum, hips pushing again, and Abby palms at your inner thigh.  

“Shhh, baby. Can’t hear the movie with all your whimpering.” The breath of her whisper flutters over your neck, forcing goosebumps to rise to the surface. You roll your eyes back and try and convince yourself that it’s from annoyance rather than pleasure.

Her hand starts again, faster now, smoothing over your skin, not giving you enough time as she just brushes the tips of her fingers over your underwear, and your hand jolts out.

“Abby,” you warn, grabbing it. You intertwine your fingers with hers, stopping it in its tracks — clutching it on your lap, and Abby hums a laugh into your neck.

“Not gonna let me touch you there?” she teases, using the hand you’re holding to rub at your groin. 

You’re betrayed by your own knuckles, the touch forcing your thighs to clench together, and hips to jolt up at the sensation. You hate it. Love it, really. She’s winding you up like a toy. “Abby,” you whisper, conflicted. The tv hisses its dialogue, music singing – a car crashes into a wall, and the antagonist cackles in delight. Who’s the villain again? Abby hums a pleased, “Hm?” into your ear. You don’t know. Just have to spit her name out. Get it out of you, before it’s back, brimming at your lips like an omission of truth. 

She pushes her hand into yours, forcing your knuckles to rut against your crotch again, and fuck, your legs widen an inch, welcoming the feeling and silently begging for more. 

She’s smiling, sickly sweet – you know it. Know her. Know she’s grinning from the gradual win.

You keep a hold of her hand as she rubs it into you, coaxing something warm and tingly to build between your thighs. Your face goes hot. 

You suddenly can’t remember the plot of this movie. Try to come up with something convincing to Mel for when she asks for your review, but your temporal lobe has stopped working. 

All you can think about is the sensation between your thighs, the comforting tickle on your chest from Abby’s hair, and the smell of her – familiar, all-consuming. She runs the tips of her teeth over the flesh of your throat, and “Abs,” you gasp, free hand grabbing onto her forearm. 

Her tongue comes out, soothing the scratch from her teeth and you shift, shocked, hips bucking back against her, legs falling open, and she takes advantage – drops your hand and flattens her palm between your thighs, cupping your clothed pussy.

“Shit,” you gasp, clutching her strong forearm with both hands in surprise.

You can’t believe you’ve let her win.

She’s not even moving, just holding you, but the pressure is enough to force your thighs together, pussy clenching around nothing.

“Um’ gonna break up with you,” you quickly rush, eyes clenching closed. Abby cackles. Says, “Yeah?” “Mm,” you hum, nodding, fidgeting, trying to get her to fucking move. “Okay –“she breathes, stuffing her fingers low, thick of them pressing against you. Your mind goes fizzy. She talks. “--After I make you come though, right?” Your face clenches together, your mouth falling open. “You’re the worst,” you brandish, lying through your teeth. Meaning it wholeheartedly. 

She hushes you, “Shhh, I know,” and watches your facial expressions change – watches you try to self-soothe.

“The worst,” you repeat, voice cracking. Somehow, Abby’s lips get closer to your ear.

“I know baby, but I’ll make it good, promise.”

Her admission forces your eyes open, and you look down at where she’s got you – thick fingers barely pushing against your clothed slit, and God, you have to – have to grind your cunt against her. One slight roll of your hips, up and up, then down, and you huff, curse under your breath because Jesus Christ.

“Or you’ll do it for me.” “Shut up.” “No – do it again.”

You do. With your hands holding the forearm she’s got buckled against your collarbones, you hitch your hips up, and she keeps her hand tense, making it good for you. Makes sure the ball of her palm pushes into your clit, and you sigh. A tremor shoots through your belly.

“Keep doing that,” she mutters, mouth close enough that her words echo through your brain. “I wanna see.” She grabs a fistful of your shirt and drags it up. The cool air hits the soft skin of your belly, but Abby warms you as her arm flattens against it, hefty and comforting. 

You watch her strong arm transfixed. Watch the muscles tick as her hand flexes, the scars on her skin white and shiny in the dull buzz of the TV screen. 

Her fingers rub at your pussy, and your hips move, back arches, grinding against her palm, your breathing hitching and catching. 

She’s barely touching your clit, just brushing it, and the sensation slowly builds, pushing, making you reach down and fumble for her hand, pushing it deeper into you.

“Abs,” you choke, and she groans. Nods against your neck and admits, “wanted to fuck you all day.”

Heat rushes over you, forces you to clench together and pathetically whimper. “Been obsessed with me all day,” you breathe. 

In your cloudy vision, you catch sight of the TV screen, the movie playing out to two people who couldn’t care less. Yet you try and focus, but it’s hard to multitask with her hand between your thighs.

The antagonist is being arrested, and you have no fucking clue as to why. Probably something to do with the car explosion – or was it a truck? Abby carries on kissing you, sucking at the soft skin, bruising you with her sweet lips and tongue, “m’ always obsessed with you,” she purrs, the hand she’s got strapped across your collarbones soothing the skin of your shoulder. “Mm, yeah – but something --” she rubs the ball of her palm over your clit, pushes it, this time, and your sentence catches. “Shit —” you hiss, eyes rolling back. A shiver runs down your spine as your brain short circuits. Desperately, you try to keep a hold of reality, try not to fall into the dizziness of it all.

Sometimes that happened with Abby. You didn’t mind, but you wanted to hold on to your consciousness for a little while longer. You huff, shake your head – try to remember your next sentence. “Something different about today.”

“Had a dream that I fucked you last night.”

Oh, you think, that’ll do it. You can’t help but grin -- delighted that you’ve managed to weave your way into her subconscious.

“Things were different, normal,” she explains, still taunting you with her hand. She’s pushing up, grinding up and down your clothed slit with an intrinsic kind of determination, using just enough pressure to make you delirious. 

As she pushes her fingers low, your clit throbs. Your pussy clenches, tight and sore. You were never good at this bit. Never good at waiting. You clutch her hand, tense and fidgety, gut tightening as her fingers slowly push you to some metaphorical edge.

“Don’t laugh,” she adds, and you do, but not at her, more so at the situation. Your big, controlling Abby, asking you not to laugh at her. “M’ not gonna laugh at you Abs,” you pant, grinding slowly, breathing deep, trying to calm yourself down for this admission she’s so ashamed of. 

She leans in close, mouth against your ear as if the TV can hear. All it does is add to the pressure, her voice so close, it’s like it’s in your own head.

“I dreamt that you were my housewife,” she whispers, and fuck, that’s not what you expected. That’s not what you expected at all. “That I came home,” she continues, sliding her fingers up and down, up, and down, and you’re wet against her. Soaked through the cotton, her fingers damp with your slick. Jesus Christ, she’s only been playing. 

Hadn’t felt like she’d been trying all that hard, really, and here you are, making her hand all wet. You both watch her play with you – draw it out, fingers dragging, your hips trying to match her rhythm. “’n’ you were making me dinner, dressed up all pretty – heals on, nothing underneath.” “Y-Yeah?” you breathe, quick and short, the only sound you can make besides the quiet moans you’re mumbling. “And you waltzed up to me, said, honey, you’re home. N’ undid my tie.”

You’re wet enough that she can see the outline of your pussy through her boxers. Gently, she relaxes her palm and slides her middle finger through your slit, your legs widening, watching her, knowing what she’s doing before she does it.

“That’s it,” she mutters, finger pushing against your clit. “So fucking wet, s’so fucking hot,” she breathes into your ear, teeth on your earlobe and fuck, you nearly come. 

Nearly burst, white-hot heat jolting through you, eyes clenching together, pussy clenching – want her inside of you, feels like you’ve never wanted her more than you do now.

She carries on, languidly rolling your clit around, tenderly pushing at the nerve.

“Then you dropped to your knees,” she coos into your ear, and fuck, in your haze you didn’t see her move. Didn’t feel her slide her hand over your throat, holding you still. You swallow against her palm.

“and unlaced my boots. Took them off for me, so good. So helpful.”

She keeps the pace steady. Hits the nerve at such an angle that you can’t run from pressure. Your pussy gushes, and words fail you.  

Abby kisses your cheek, “You okay baby? Gone quiet on me.”

“I think um gonna come,” you quickly admit, voice cracking. You’re clenched so tight that it hurts. Just begging for something, anything, to fill the need she’s building. Your thighs twitch and you feel her smile on your cheek, curved cheekily. She ignores you. Carries on.

“Dinner on the table for me, my favourite. Dessert in the fridge, beer on ice. Your pretty little face so excited that I was back.”

Your small voice shatters through her spiel -- “Did you fuck me against the table?” you whimper, imagining it. “With my dress and heels still on?”

Abby groans. Her fingers break their rhythm for a second, go sloppy – get distracted. You think about her bending you over the kitchen table, your hair in her fist and her strap in her hand. 

She gets her rhythm back and picks up speed. Rubs your clit in tight, controlled circles, and you feel yourself get closer. There’s a familiar ache at the bottom of your belly.

“Yeah baby, I did,” she breathes. “Treated you like a lady. Made you come on my cock so quick that my dinner was still warm.”

“Abby,” you burst, cutting her off. Fuck, you hear it – hear how desperate you are. “You don’t wanna watch your movie?” she teases, using the hand on your throat to push your chin to her. She looks at you pitifully, blue eyes blown wide. “No,” you whine, teeth chewing at your bottom lip, making it swollen. You manage to shake your head, and she pulls your lip from your teeth, using her thumb to slide your spit over your chin. “Don’t wanna see how it ends?” she further taunts. “N-No,” you sob, nearly crying. Actually, no, you are crying. Yeah, your cheeks are definitely damp with something. 

You sniff, and Abby goes soft. For a fleeting second, she switches -- kisses away your tears, and says, “shh, okay. I know sweetheart, I know.”

She pushes her forehead against yours, and you’re lulled into a false sense of security before she pulls her fingers away. 

You shatter, gasp “No!”, and Abby kisses you, shuts you up, hands tugging your boxers down, quickly pulling them over your knees and discarding them onto the floor somewhere.

She tugs your thighs open, too, fully exposing you, and the cool air hits your damp pussy just as she stuffs her fingers back, sliding her thick middle finger through your slick before pushing it into your swollen, aching hole.

The world tips on its axis. For a brief, cataclysmic moment, you go somewhere else. Mouth open, eyes clenched close. The obscene pressure is overwhelming, and you clench around her finger, so tight that she groans into your mouth.

“Jesus,” she curses, “ease up baby, lemme make you feel good.”

It takes all of your willpower to loosen up, to relax. When you do, she slides out, then in, gently, slowly fingering you, warming you up, before she adds another finger, wet enough for the stretch, and you go blank.

You don’t say anything – can’t, no words, only sounds, loud and against her mouth. Cursing her out, moaning her name – garbled and sloppy, hands clutching her forearm, nails digging into her skin -- all sensation. 

You can hear how wet you are, hear your pussy squelching around her fingers.

“'m gonna come,” you gasp, and Abby nods, kisses you, tastes your spit and coaches you through it, “That’s it, baby, just let it all out.”

Seconds later, it rushes over you.

Sucks you under and spits you out, your hips bucking against Abby’s quick-moving fingers as you come, wet and hot, spilling over and soaking the sheets. “m’ my god, my god,” you whine, the white-hot feeling never-ending. 

Legs shaking, and Abby watches, praises you, says, “oh fuck, look at that,” and you can’t, it’d be too much. Instead, you whine against her cheek, back arching, body shuddering, her name spilling from your lips like spit.

“Abby,” you babble, “Abby, feels so fuckin’ good, you make it so good,” you drool, words sloppy, pussy clenching tight. 

The sensation continues. You breathe her name again, Abby Abby Abby – a prayer on your swollen lips. Please, you whisper — please what?

Abby won’t let you come down. Your sensitivity spirals, but Abby doesn’t stop. Drags her thick fingers through your clenched walls, and you gasp, hands grasping out to grab hers. 

You clutch her wet hand in your limp grip, whimpering, please, against her mouth.

“Okay,” she breathes, barely there. “Okay, I’ll stop.”

She pulls her fingers out of you slowly, kissing your forehead as you make a soft humming sound. You’re still so sensitive. 

The heat has cooled, but the feeling still lingers, and Abby kisses your forehead again, quieting the dull ache that’s washing over you. Gently, she pulls her hand away from yours, bringing her slick fingers up to her lips. 

You watch through half-lidded lids as she runs her mouth over them, humming in contentment. Pink tongue darting over the digits – you flush, your own tongue licking at your bottom lip as you study her.

You curl your legs together, thighs wet, feeling the pressure that’s still there. Abby sees you wince. She studies your features -- notes that your eyes haven’t lost their glaze, and now they’re edged with something wild, as if you’ve gotten a taste, but not enough to scratch the itch. 

There’s a familiar softness to you, too. Almost lethargic, as you run your nail over her forearm, eyes flicking over her strong jaw and flushed cheeks.

“You were messing with me all day.”

It’s a whisper, words tentative. Abby licks her lips, noting how your glassy eyes follow the movement. “Messing?” she repeats, inching forward, and pressing her forehead against yours. You close your eyes, a small, contented smile on your lips, then lick them, teeth coming out to chew. “Hm.” “You like when I mess with you?” she teases, and you hum again. The smile you’re donning builds, bubbling into a nod. 

She can’t help but reach out, and gently run her thumb over the pillow of your bottom lip, tugging it free from your teeth. You sigh, body leaning into her touch. “You’re very distracting…” She slides her wide palm over your cheek, dragging it to the back of your neck, then holds you there, inching her head to the left and brushing her mouth over yours – a small hint of you on her lips. “…S ’almost dangerous.” “’ m sorry,” you quickly breathe, come drunk. Drunk on Abby fucking Anderson. In your hazy and small headspace, you suddenly feel bad. She must know because she shakes her head, “don’t be.”

Her breath flutters over your lips, hand flexes at the back of your neck. That pressure that she’d subsided, is back. Feels suddenly critical.

“s’my fault for thinking I have any self-control.”

You want to kiss her. The desire sweeps over you, crashing like a wave. You go to move, but she whispers, “wanted to fuck you in that abandoned warehouse,” and all you can do is ask, “Why didn’t you?” A laugh rattles through her.

“nearly did.”

You think about the blood on her hands, think about the smear of it as she pulled your hips against hers, mouth hot and desperate. She’d sucked a quick bruise under your earlobe, and you’d melted. 

Electric had shot through your belly, warming between your thighs. 

Abby, you’d moaned, and she’d just about growled. Teeth had nipped at your tender skin, just this side of mean, and your brain had short-circuited.

You forgot about the impending danger around the corner — all you could think about was Abby, with her wandering hands and soft lips. The way she licked away the scratch and kissed you again, said, we gotta get this thing over with so I can take you to bed.

“Would have, too, if I wasn’t so damn responsible.”

She tuts at herself, annoyed at her regiment. She licks the spit off of her lip and you pout, I wanted to do that, you think.

“I like the responsible Abby,” you manage to mutter, bumping your mouth against hers, “She keeps me safe.”

Abby hums. Her eyes close as if she’s bathing in your omission. Abby does keep you safe. She’s strong, capable — a brilliant teammate and when she needs to be, a leader. She quiets the anxious thumping of your heart, and when she’s got you like this — floaty and soft — quiets it completely.

“Please kiss me,” you suddenly breathe, overwhelmed with the desire to have your mouth on her. “I’ve been waiting patiently.”

At the back of your neck, you feel her hand flex. She brushes her mouth against yours again, gently teasing, “You have, haven’t you?” her brows raise – followed by a sickly sweet smirk.

There’s something about this space you’re in that makes even the smallest of mockeries big and meaningful.

“I have,” you just about plead, and Abby’s smirk twists, a flash of longing bleating over her features, before she catches your lips, kissing you deep and long -- your resulting moan cracking through the bedroom. 

Her tongue comes in, wet and warm, forcing you closer — forcing you to just about clamber into her lap, damp inner thighs sliding against her sweatpants.

Abby pulls away, eyes dark and cloudy as she whispers, “Want me to get the strap?” and the only answer you find is, yes.

 You watch as Abby drags the leather straps up her thighs, then crawls onto the bed, buckling up one side as she moves. Immediately, with an instinct she’s drilled into you, you get onto your knees to do the other, hands fumbling around the leather. 

You’ve done this countless times before. Know what notch she likes it on. Knows she likes it tight, likes when the leather stretches over her thighs, marring them red. She lubes it up as you buckle her up tightly.

“So helpful – such a good girl, you know that, huh?”

She moves to kiss you, and you giggle into her mouth, catching the back of her head as she pushes you into the bed. Her strap brushes over you, and you sigh, humming at the sudden wet sensation. 

She tastes like you. Tastes like musk and mint and Abby. You tongue your way into her mouth, suddenly wanting more. Wanting her, carnally. Spent all day with her -- you spend most days with her, but it’ll never be enough.

You break away from her, slowly blinking, watching a trail of spit connect the two of you. She’s propped up on one elbow, watching you. 

Her eyes are navy blue under the shadow of the light, the freckles on her nose hidden, but you know they’re there. Know how they sprinkle out evenly as if they were painted there before she was handed off to her mother.

“I like being helpful,” you admit. Something flashes in her eyes. Her features shift, once playful, now soft, and her hand comes out, brushing your hair away from your forehead. 

Instinctively, you move into her palm. It’s warm – calloused, familiar. You move to nuzzle your nose into it.

“I like that you let me come along on patrols,” you whisper.

You don’t see it, but Abby’s face twitches, “I don’t let you do anything – I want you there.”

There’s a beat before you respond, too busy running your nose over her palm. When you turn to her, you flash her a cheeky smile, “So you can mess around with me.”

Abby sniffs a laugh, but she shakes her head, “So you can save my ass when I eventually fuck up.”

“s ’never happened. I don’t remember.”

“Selective memory.”

Her fingers move, forefinger resting under your chin and thumb coming up to slip over your bottom lip. Abby swears she sees your eyes glaze over again. She loves this. Loves when you get like this. It lets her know that you trust her, trust her to do what’s best.

“You with me?” she just about purrs. You hum. She watches as your body goes limp like she’s pressed a hidden button. You shift, your legs open wide, and your breasts bounce with the movement. If you were watching, you’d see eyes shift over your body – hungry and desperate.

You breathe in a sigh, and it rattles in your chest. “Yeah—” you whisper, “---think so. You make me feel so dizzy, Abby.”

Your eyes flutter closed, tongue coming out to catch her thumb. Your teeth go over it, and the hood of her nail drags over your gums, your bottom teeth pushing at the soft flesh. The sensation goes directly between Abby’s thighs. Still, she shows her usual concern. She cocks her head to the side.

“You’ll let me know if it’s too much, yeah?” “Yeah Abby,” you whisper around her finger, “s’never too much though. You know me.” “Promise?” she asks, ignoring you. “Promise,” you repeat, then, “I can still taste myself on you.”

Your tongue closes around her finger, wetting it – warm and soft. Abby briefly thinks: this is what she feels like inside. She goes red at the thought. An ache builds – she suddenly wants to be nestled deep, watching you come undone again.

You suck her finger further, eyes still closed, lost in the motion. The intoxication makes you grab a hold of her wrist, keeping her steady as spit pools under your lips, dripping towards your chin.

“Is this what I did in your dream?” you suddenly ask, blinking up at her. You catch her dark eyes, and she notes the spit that’s drooling over your tits.

“When I was on my hands and knees for you?”

All of the willpower Abby had left snaps in two. She suddenly shifts, moving you by shoving her big, strong hands under your thighs and spreading you open.

“Lemme fuck you,” she babbles, hitching your hips up. You watch her try to gather her nerve, but she talks and talks as she shuffles you around  – “I gotta fuck you baby. Gotta – gotta make it good, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, nodding, seeing her lose her cool. “I gotta.” “Okay,” you whisper again. You reach over with your hand, smoothing it over her cheek, begging her to look at you, but she just takes the hand and tries to get you situated. Moves the pillow, and makes sure your hips are pushed wide enough. “Yeah – I just, fuck. Yeah, fuck. Lemme – please?” she suddenly stops, like she’s caught herself before she falls off the ledge completely. The soft skin of your thumb smoothes over her cheek, and you nod, flexing your hips up, “fuck me, Abby.”

The roles shift and ripple. When Abby gets so turned on, she gets desperate — pleads and begs instead of tells.

But when she’s got the strap stuffed against your wet hole, the roles snap back.

“Oh fuck,” you whimper, suddenly overwhelmed. You’re still a little sensitive, and now lightheaded and dizzy with delirium, all you can do is pout against her pretty mouth, eyes glazed and wide. “Shhh, baby. Shh shh shh,” she punctuates. She looks down at where you connect, and slides the strap across your sopping folds, listening for your reaction. You huff, whispering her name – then jolt up when she brushes it against your clit, hands coming for the back of her head again.

“Abs,” you gasp, scuffed knees pressing on her hips.

“Um gonna make it good, okay?” she soothes, “don’t I always make it good for you?”

She does. Abby knows you like the back of her palm. Knows all your buttons, knows when to push them – how. Knows when it’s too much, or when it’s not enough. Her eyes flash open, blue and alive, and she kisses you as she stuffs the head against your hole, slowly sinking in, burying deep.

“Oh my fucking God,” you sob against her mouth, clenching, so fucking full that you have to arch your back. Your breath hitches, letting Abby know that you’re filled up tight.

“Abby,” you whine, hands reaching for your tits. You squeeze them, fidgeting, going a little frantic at the sensation. Abby watches – sees.

“Shhh, shhh, shh,” she hushes, brushing her lips against yours, kissing you sweetly. The tenderness makes you sob, the taste of her tongue intoxicating. It lulls you, quiets you, and she pulls away, ordering, “Hands in my hair, baby, know you like em’ there.”

You do as she says, sniffling, trying to calm yourself down. She’s dragged this out slowly, though. You hadn’t realised how much you wanted her until she stopped.

She reaches over you, grabs a pillow, ordering, “Hips up, high, sweetheart – that’s it,” before she stuffs it under you, the movement jostling her cock, but when you relax back, legs high on her back, Abby stuffs you again, the new position forcing the strap to hit something devastating.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck – “you curse, eyes flashing white. “‘um gonna come so fast, Abs.” “S’okay baby,” she soothes, slowly pulling out of you. She brushes her mouth against yours as she whispers, “I’ll just fuck you until you can’t anymore.”

God, it must take minutes.

Must be minutes – maybe even seconds – of her slowly fucking up into you, splitting you open on her cock, before you’re feeling the familiar swell flood your pussy. 

You’ve got your fingers laced in her long, blonde strands, and you’re pretty sure you’re scraping your nails against her scalp, but Abby’s too busy murmuring how pretty you are to notice.

In your almost drunken haze, you notice how pink her lips are – all swollen from her teeth and wet with spit – and you can’t keep your eyes off of them. They spill compliments all over you. 

Bathe you, before pressing them to your mouth, swallowing your desperate cries.

Abby’s got one hand at the nape of your neck, and the other is clutched around your left knee, keeping it locked up against her upper back. The position means you can’t run from her. 

She’s an all-consuming presence, and it’s almost too much. She moves her hand, but you don’t dare move your knee. It’s locked there, and the position she’s put you in makes you delirious. Then she doubles the pressure with her thick fingers against her clit.

“Jesus – fuck, Abby,” you curse, eyes rolling back, the world going dark. You’re so wet that she can’t catch a grip, and her fingers swirl sloppily over your clit as her face clenches together, as if she’s doing it to herself.

“So fuckin’ wet,” she grunts against your lips, her face a snarl. You don’t see it, but she shakes her head. Shakes her head and then speeds up, fueled by the desire to make you wetter. Make it worse better for you.

The change in speed forces your eyes open. You grab onto her shoulder, hiccuping a sob, wet, hot heat pulsating between your legs. 

Your eyes roll back again, mouth comes open, fingers clench tight and Abby sees it. Knows you’re about to come so hard that she’ll feel it. “Abby,” you gasp, and she nods. Presses an open-mouthed kiss to your lips and soothes you with, “I know.” “S’gonna be – b-big, fuck. M’ clenching so fuckin’ tight.”

Abby feels your back arch into her, your tits pushing against her chest. She keeps at her steady rhythm – tilts your pelvis and bucks her hips with an unrelenting tempo, catching the sight of the strap, white from you.

Your orgasm blindsides you.

You’re silent as you come. Mouth open against hers, clenching so tense and tight around her cock that it almost hurts. Then, Abby sees you release, gushing over her cock as your hips stutter and legs shake, your orgasm washing over you, knocking you for a loop.

She groans at her sight, then hears you sob, strangled, followed by, oh my god Abby, oh my fuckin’ – then it’s all whimpers, your pussy still pulsating around her strap.

Abby slows her pace.

She ignores the pressure between her own thighs, and instead, kisses the drool off of your lips, shakingly saying, never seen you come so hard like that twice, s’gotta be a record, and you’re so fucked out that you don’t even laugh.

Your eyes are glazed over, sweat pooling at your hairline, and your mouth is still hanging open as if you’re trying to find something to say. Abby kisses it shut. Tries, again, to ignore the throbbing of her clit. Tries to ignore the desire to fuck you into the mattress and make herself come.

You’re still shaking for fucks sake, but Abby can’t stop. She’s already pushing it by slowing, humming against your mouth, the sounds almost a whimper. 

Her face is snarled together, jaw clenched, and she sees your brow furrow. Feels you clench your fists to her chest, wondering why she’s still fucking you. When she drops her head into your neck, you understand.

“I’m sorry—” she sobs, wide palms dragging under your shoulders and latching onto them. “I’m – fuck – feels so good.”

You snap out of your delirium. Or it twists at least. You spread your legs, ignoring the pressure behind your clit – the sensitivity that never had a chance to subside. Now, you’re here for Abby.

“S’okay baby,” you drawl, voice trembling, but fuck, your girlfriend is desperate. You hitch your hips up and press against her tight, so she has to grind against you to fuck you, and Abby loses it. 

The added pressure against her clit forces her to moan, the sound muffled by your throat.

“Use me, okay?” you whisper against the shell of her ear, hands in her hair, clutching her to you. “use me to come.”

“S-shit, okay,” she whimpers. “Okay okay okay—” lost to her pleasure, Abby sloppily rocks into you. She picks up the speed, sinking into your wet and swollen hole, splitting you open and moaning your name so loud that it rattles through you.

“I’m gonna come,” she whimpers, then, “holy fuck, um gonna come.”

Heat rushes over you, overwhelming. All consuming. You’re suddenly filled with the urge to kiss her. 

Taste her on your tongue, and just this side of mean, you use her hair to move her, dragging your mouth against hers, letting you see her red, sweaty face and fucked out eyes.

“That’s it, baby,” you whisper, nodding, meeting her thrusts as she fucks you. “You gonna come inside of me?” you whisper, pouting, “You gonna fill me up?”

Realistically, you know she can’t. So does she, but that doesn’t stop her from nodding, hips rocking against yours. Going, “Jesus – fuck. Fuckin’ dirty.”

She hides her red face in your shoulder again, as if she’s almost embarrassed by how desperate she is.

“My fuckin’ dirty girl,” and grunts, and she punctuates it with a snap of her hips, knocking the sensitivity up tenfold. 

It feels so good, and if she carries on this way, you’re likely to come again, but by the clutch of her fingers and drag of her breathing, you know she’s not going to last long enough. 

Know that it’s not about you, though. Know that she’ll likely catch her breath for a second and begin all over again. Abby was like that. One was never enough.

Her high-pitched, shaky breathing brings you back. It’s there – even if you can’t see her face, you know it.

“Gonna come for me Abby?” you whisper. Then, with your wet mouth against her ear, you whimper, please baby, please come for me.

She does. You feel her body clench against you, a strangled gasp muffled against your neck, and then she’s shaking, orgasm washing over her and taking her under. 

You soothe her through it. Rub her muscular back, drag your nails over her spine, and kiss the side of her head. When the aftershocks cool off, she laughs. The sound rumbles against your neck, shocked and alive.

“Holy shit,” she curses, giving your neck a sloppy kiss. Your skin is still electric, but it slowly sparks out, bottoming to a dull delicious numbness. A slow, lazy smile pulls at your lips. 

Your head is still a little fuzzy.

Abby hands slide out from under your shoulders, and she presses them besides you, pushing herself up, long blonde hair falling around your head like a curtain. Her cheeks are blushed red, eyes wiry and alive. 

You feel yourself staring at her. Abby stares back. She shifts idly, cocking her head to the side and leaning to kiss you. With her tongue in your mouth, she whispers, “’m gonna move.”  

Gently, she slips out of you, kissing away the scrunch of your brows and pout to your lips. She quickly unbuckles the strap, pushing it to the side before leaning down again, wide palms pushing your thighs apart to try and distill the pressure there.

“Okay?” she breathes, putting all of her weight onto her elbows.

“Mm,” you hum dreamily, leaning up to give her a messy kiss, “That was really hot.” Abby kisses back, humming in agreement, “Feel like I just found out the meaning of life.” “What?” you laugh, scrunching your face at her.

You raise your brows, laughing, “the meaning of life is coming while fucking me?” “Yep,” she grins, bumping her nose to yours. She turns to the TV, the credits rolling.

“Should we start the movie again?” she asks sincerely, but you shake your head, fingers tightening in her hair. 

Lazily, you slip your tongue into her mouth, wrapping your legs around her lower back and using your feet to push her ass into you. She groans, trying to catch up, but you pull away just when she matches your rhythm.

You lick your lips and lean back, your mouth curling into a delicious grin. Abby watches you reach out, your thumb running over her bottom lip, and she catches it in her mouth just as you say, “Still wanna taste you.”

more abby smut

#abby anderson x reader smut #abby anderson #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson tlou #abby anderson tlou2 #the last of us #the last of us hbo #abby anderson the last of us #tlou #tlou2 #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson the last of us 2 #abby anderson fan fic #tlou2 abby anderson

[recklesssturniolo]

could u write a matt imagine where how in the “OVER OR UNDER” video chris says “matt has a titanium rod” y/n is also there and she says “proof?” and later after they get done filming the video y/n stays at their house (she stays in nicks room) then later y/n gets a snap from matt asking what shes doing and she snaps back and says “nothing” (or that she’s watching tiktok i don’t rlly mind) and then matt sends a snap of his dick and says something like “here’s your proof” so then y/n is shocked and doesn’t say anything and matt says like “speechless now?” and then she says like “i’ll be down in a sec” and he says “that’s my good girl” and then she goes down to his room and they fuck (nick is asleep when matt snapped her and when she went to matt’s room btw) if u write this i will be so happy !! i love ur writing btw 💗💗

Proof? - M.S

Based on this req ^ , soft!dom Matt

A/N: I’m not doing collages anymore bc finding photos for them drives me insane

NSFW below, leave if you’re a minor

“Matt has a titanium rod” Chris laughs.

Nick and I begin laughing as Matt just looks at Chris with a shocked expression.

“Proof Matt?” I ask, still laughing.

“Y/N” Nick yells smacking my arm.

“Hey you can’t blame a girl for being curious” I smile back, looking forward and my eyes meeting with Matt, his face displaying an unreadable expression.

Sighing as I flop down onto Nick’s bed, both of us already in pjs and getting under the blankets. A comfortable quiet takes over us as we both mindlessly scroll on our phones. Getting a notification, my eyes look and I notice it’s a Snapchat from Matt. Obviously him and I were good friends, however he rarely ever used the app. Opening his snap I furrow my eyebrows as I read ‘What are you doing?’. Usually once we all said goodnight and went to our rooms it was only Nick and I who’d continue talking.

I snapchat back ‘Nothing, why?’. Watching as it shows me he opened it but a snapchat not being sent back from him. Confused I click off the app and open TikTok and go back to scrolling. A few minutes passed and I got another snapchat from Matt, clicking on it my jaw drops and a gasp leaves my mouth. My head immediately turning to make sure Nick was asleep still. Returning my eyes back to my phone, re-reading ‘Here’s your proof’ with the photo being his dick. Being fully unaware of how I was supposed to respond to that, I leave him on ooened trying to come up with something.

I glance down and notice that he’s now typing in our chat.

Matt: Speechless are we?

Y/N: I’ll be down in a second

Matt: That’s my good girl

Sitting up and taking the blankets off of me while trying to be as quiet as possible so I wouldn’t wake Nick up, I remember under my shirt that I’m not wearing a bra, and the shorts I was wearing could barely even qualify as shorts. Beyond nervous but knowing I’d hate myself if I let this opportunity slide, I tiptoe out of Nick’s room and before I could figure out what I was going to say I was in front of Matt’s bedroom door.

“Is your plan to just stand outside my door all night?” Matt asks, my eyes widening as he opens his door.

“I - uh no sorry” I stutter as my nerves continue to grow.

Matt nods his head in the direction of his bed and I make my way to it and sit down. Unsure of what I was supposed to do next, still shocked at how forward Matt is being.

“Not covering much with that outfit eh?” He smirks.

“Guess not” I shrug.

Matt now was standing in between my legs, his hand moving to tilt my head up so I was looking up at him.

“So pretty” He mumbles, his thumb stroking my cheek. “I think you’d look prettier with my dick in your mouth though”

“Yeah?” I reply, heat rising to my cheeks.

He nods in response, “Only if you’re comfortable”

Going to get on my knees, he stops me and connects our lips, his tongue against mine before he pulls away.

Now on my knees, he slides his sweats and boxers down. His dick smacking against his stomach as he did. My pussy now dripping just from the sight. Spitting onto my hand I begin stroking him slowly, a quiet groan coming from him as I did.

“Mouth” He demands.

Following his instructions I swirl my tongue around his tip, before slowly taking as much of him as I could into my mouth.

“Fuck there you go” He groans, as he pulls on my hair.

I continue bobbing my head up and down, using my hand for what couldn’t fit into my mouth. Already gagging from how big he was.

“Take it all in your mouth, I know you can pretty girl” Matt says.

Slightly doubting I’d actually be able to, I pushed my head further down on his dick, a low groan leaving his mouth as I did, his hand pushing a bit on the back of my head.

“Fuck yeah, there you go just like that” He groans.

Tears fall from my eyes as I continue sucking him off. His dick hitting the back of my throat each time I went back down. Before I could process it, Matt had taken his dick out of my mouth and pulled me up and laid me down on the bed.

“As much as I would’ve loved to watch you swallow my come, I’d rather fill you up with it” He smirks, his hand trailing down to the bottom of my shorts, “Can I take them off?”

“Yes Matt just touch me please” I beg, my pussy aching for any form of touch from him.

I watch as he removes my shorts, smirking before looking up to me, “You’re soaked”

“Matt” I whine, my hips thrusting upwards, my patience running thin.

He plays with the band of my panties, pulling them away from my skin before letting them snap back, a yelp escaping from my mouth as he did. Looping his fingers underneath the band, in one swift motions he has then pulled off. His mouth immediately connecting to my core. A moan effortlessly falls from my mouth as licked a single stripe up to my clit, his tongue flattening to cover as much of my pussy as possible.

Matt continues his motions, humming against me and mumbling how sweet I taste.

“I need you” I whimper, my hands pulling on his hair, my back still arched from his actions.

“Yeah? Want me deep inside of you” He asks.

“Please Matt” I reply.

Lifting himself up and aligning himself up with my entrance, he begins pushing himself into me, a quiet whimper leaving my mouth as he did as my walls stretched.

“You can take all of it baby, just breathe” He replies, his grip tightening on my waist the further he went inside of me, “There ya go, good girl”

“Fuck” I moan, the slight pain disappearing and my body taken over by ecstasy.

“So fucking tight” Matt groans out, his head tilted back slightly, his jaw agape.

“Matt - fuck harder” I whimper.

“You sure pretty girl?” He questions.

“Yes god please” I beg, desperate to feel him deeper inside of me.

I feel his grip tighten on my waist before he picks up his pace, now slamming into me. My hands wrapped around his wrists and squeezing in an attempt to keep myself quiet. Matt removes one of his hands from my waist, bringing it so his thumb was now circling my clit.

“Take me so well” He says.

“Holy fuck don’t stop oh my god” I moan, him deep inside of me paired with his motions on my clit causing the knot in my stomach to grow tighter, “Matt I’m gonna come”

“Come on then, show me how much of a good girl you are and come all over my dick” He groans.

As my climax hits my eyes clench shut, my head tossed back as pleasure radiating through my body, Matt’s name effortlessly falling from my mouth.

“There you go, breathe through it yeah? Fuck you look so good” Matt says, his pace not slowing.

“I - holy fuck” I say, my pleasure still lingering as he slammed into me.

“You gonna let me fill you up pretty girl?” He asks.

I nod in response before he shakes his head and speaks again, “I need to hear you say it”

“Yes fuck fill me up please Matt” I whine out, my sensitivity growing the longer he continued.

I feel his dick twitch inside of me before his breathing becomes heavier, his jaw clenching and his head being thrown back.

“God you feel so good” He mumbles, struggling to speak through his high.

I watch as Matt slows his pace, him letting out small groan as he pulled himself out of me, before letting himself lay on top of me.

“That was -“ I begin.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that” He says.

“What? Really?” I ask.

“Mhm” He mumbles, “Feels like I waited a life time”

“Should have made a move sooner” I say laughing slightly.

“Yeah yeah I know - wait fuck who’s that?” He says, his eyes widening as we both listen to the footsteps that continue to get closer to his room.

Without warning the door busts open, revealing Nick on the other side, him immediately covering his eyes.

“Jesus Christ the second I noticed you weren’t in my room I knew exactly where you were” He almost yelled, “God you guys are disgusting, Y/N you’re still my cuddle buddy so get your ass up and back to my room - wait clean yourself first I don’t want any of that shit in my bed”

TAGLIST: @sturnphilia @thatonekid536 @cupidsword @loveesiren @daddyslilchickenfingers @christinarowie332 @ilovemattsturn @its-jennarose @lovingsturniolo @iwantmattsobad @secret-sturniolo @soursturniolo @knowingnothingnoel @mwah0mwah @urmyslxt

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fic #matthew sturniolo #matt x fem reader #matt x reader #solo triplets x reader #sub!reader #dom!matt

[noneorother]

The secret timeline inside of Good Omens season 2 revealed, *part1*

Part 1 l Part 2

If you’ve ever watched a ballet or an opera, you know how the rhythm in the music is used throughout to determine not only the movements of the dancers, but also when lines are sung or spoken. This is almost unheard of in television, but what if I told you it was hidden in season 2 of Good Omens? If one were to, say, meticulously cut together only the scenes set in the present day into one big timeline, you would get one long video that is exactly 2 hours 22 minutes 00 seconds and 00 frames long. An ineffable cut that is so perfect it defies all logic. (I’ve burnt a timecode into this ineffable edit to help pick up the rhythm.)

Even though there are large swathes of the second season with no music, there is a constant tempo weaving its way through the show: What if the seconds ticking by in the runtime itself was the music? Here’s an example of what I found. Behold a supercut of every single time Shax shows up, or Hell is mentioned in series 2 in the ineffable edit. They always arrive on a 6 in the time stamp (ex: 00:XX:X6).

(SOUND ON is an absolute must here, otherwise you won't hear any of the triggers)

Shax rings Crowley on a XX:X6. Shax miracles herself into the car on a XX:X6. Shax knocks on windows on a XX:X6. Shax’s big scary moment at the bookshop happens at 66 minutes exactly (lol). Crowley calls out for Shax on a XX:X6. Beelzebub starts spewing flies on a 6. People mention hell and it’s always on XX:X6 etc. etc…(Bonus: I also left in Maggie flipping the damned the double-bird on a XX:X6) I’ve also left in the only appearance of Shax or hell at all in the whole series that isn’t tied to a six: the park bench scene with Crowley. Shax seems to be off by one line, showing up on a XX:10, then back to XX:X6 on her second reply: “Bills, mostly”. I can only theorise that this scene, while technically in season 2, is not supposed to *be* in season 2 (even just judging by the trees, sun and the overcoats, it’s not summer like in the rest of the season). And it’s not only sixes! Every time I go through I find more and more little beats that line up exactly with ineffable timings. I can only do one video per post, so I’ll have to cut it up into sections, but Gabriel, doors, car horns, bird calls, Aziraphale, food, drinks, Angels, dialogue, Maggie, Nina, jokes, clocks, bells… The list goes on and on. 

Neil called this season “The bridge”

Because we all know how much Neil loves double meanings and wordplay, I just have to ponder the idea that when Neil said this season was “the bridge” between seasons 1 and 3, he meant it double-literally. First, as in the bridge Aziraphale and Crowley have to cross in order to get them into position for the second coming. We even see the physical manifestation of this bridge leading everyone in the background of the opening credits. But this season is also a bridge in the sense that it’s a musical section that introduces new ideas or material in the middle of a song. This whole season is the music that deviates from the familiar, and re-contextualizes the chorus and the verses so we can appreciate them in a new way. 

Let’s not forget that 2:22 is also exactly the same timing as this (and only this) track from the good omens s2 album (read all about the soundtrack here):

Why is this so bonkers? I think GOS2 might be the first ever “Total” series of television.

Having everything in the series timed and choreographed would actually make it a very faithful adaptation of the Powell & Pressburger film The Tales of Hoffmann (read about the movie and it’s effect on all of s2 here). If you watch the tales of Hoffman, you will realize that the entire film is actually done more like animation, with the music and vocals all performed in a studio, mixed and edited first, and then the actors came back to act out their choreographed and lip-synched parts for the cameras afterwards. The result is "Total film": a movie that feels more like a ballet, with every movement, action, and line happening in time with the music. As far as I can tell, very few films have ever attempted this, with The Tales of Hoffmann and Playtime being the only two “complete” films I could find in this style. (The Red shoes has one section, and An American In Paris has a few)

“Why would ambitious filmmakers simply film an opera? Many admirers of the work of Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger have assumed that their decision to make The Tales of Hoffmann (…) was in some way an admission(…) that they couldn’t go on making their edgy, over-the-top melodramas after the rejection and interference they’d suffered, (but) there’s a case for considering The Tales of Hoffmann as one of the finest and boldest works that Powell and Pressburger produced, so far ahead of its time as a wholly “composed” film... Late in his life, Powell himself said that he thought it was one of the best films that he and Pressburger had made.” - Criterion review, Tales of Hoffmann

Here’s a simple example from An American in Paris

If season 2 *is* scripted and choreographed to line up with specific timings, I’m pretty sure that would make this the first ever “total” or “composed” season of television ever attempted. Not only does this take an ASTOUNDING amount of planning, scripting and editing finesse, not to mention a completely controlled set, it takes a real understanding of how to perform as an actor using rhythm and metre, which would go a long way to explain why all of the main actors coming back for season 2, with the exception of John Hamm, are well regarded theatre performers, (especially of Shakespeare).

I’ll leave you with one last surprise I found in the discovery of the ineffable edit: remember Aziraphale’s smile at the very end if the credits? It happens on 02:23:03, as the first step off the bridge, and into season 3.

I will have much more in the next ineffable timeline post. Stay tuned…

__________________________________________

Thanks for reading all the way to the end. It’s taken me a solid month to get this perfect. There are so many hidden cuts and jumps to take into account, and I had a frame rate issue that kept exporting to 29fps instead of 25fps, but I’ve finally nailed the ineffable timeline enough that I am confident sharing in it.

Credits to @thebluestgreen and @embracing-the-ineffable for all the support and help with editing and just general good vibes. 

#good omens 2 #good omens meta #good omens season two #art director talks good omens #go season 2 #go meta #good omens season 2 #crowley x aziraphale #good omens spoilers #good omens analysis #good omens

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

I was re reading your pool fic bc it’s one of my favourite and I wanted to ask ab how Vil would go over giving you a make over when he finds out you’re a girl or how Vil, Rook and Epel would be involved?

Would Epel finally be happy to not be the only one being tortured by Vil with his 20084 step skin care routine?

Would Vil take you shopping and go full MUA?

Would Rook stalk you so Vil can find our about your current beauty regimen?

Also I love your writing so much

Aforementioned Makeover | Yandere Pomefiore

The thing about the pool party is that everyone knew you were a girl 

You had told them straight up

But they either written it off or the time you casually mentioned it or it just wasn’t a priority

Rook most definitely already knew 

More than willing to share one of his extensive photo albums on you when Vil finally decides you are indeed in need  of a makeover

Whether it’s through Rook or forcefully making Epel ask or just interrogating you himself

He’ll go full steam ahead once he has an idea on your situation

But it gets tricky when he realizes Rook’s has a loooonggg list of things he notices and actively updates about your health and routine

It kind of makes him jealous

So he steps up his game a little and demands your presence in Pomefiore immediately

He might wait for exam season where everyone’s on edge 

And far too anxious to debate whatever craziness he’s imposing on the Ramshackle Prefect

“This is just for the time being, no need to lose your head. Focus on your exams and I’ll focus on you. Got that?”

He’s reworking your entire life routine to fit around and with him in the center

Because Rook get’s to openly patrol and monitor you he’s not upset

He also expected it’d turn out this way but that’s a discussion for another time+

Epel though is at first willing to excuse himself

Leaving you to the proverbial wolves until he realizes what this means

“After the fitting, we’ll polish their elegance training, and then after that we’ll have to do a hearty meal otherwise they’d whine all day–” “I agree!”

“But they told me that tomorrow we’d go to the racing derby together…”

“Hm, well we’ll have to cancel that then. (Y/n)’s incredibly short energy and requirements for tomorrow can’t have them waking up too early to go to that. We only have time for what we’ve planned.”

“Yup sorry, monsieur crab-apple! Now please continue Roi du Poison!” 

“...”

If he doesn’t actively include himself or remind Vil of his obsession with training him

He’s going to be left out

Lose more time to get close to you

Less chances for him to win you over

Not to mention the bonding and learning he gets from just aiding his upperclassmen in their endeavors

“Now this Epel is the perfect time to ask questions. In this condition their mental state is still intact, so any questions you ask isn’t immediately going to be met with mindless and incoherent blubbering.”

“But why would I want to ask questions? What good is talking to this piece’a crap gonna do?”

“Tsk Tsk pauvre malheureux you have so much to learn! Consider this prey the beginning of a larger scheme…a member of a conspiracy against notre chéri!” 

“I see…”

Unbeknownst to him he’s prepared to use it all against them when the perfect time strikes

But it’s not wise to underestimate your teachers 

Where do you think that urge came from?

“We at Pomefiore value beauty above most, consider it a privilege we want to highlight yours.” 

“Though the urge to lock it away is palpable; for my Roi du Poison I’ll stiffle my urges just a tad longer!”

“Don’t expect to get too far from me I’m mo’ than set onya heart.”

“Epel!”

“I know I know, geez.”

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere harem #yandere twst x reader #yandere pomefiore #yandere vil #yandere vil schoenheit #yandere vil x reader #yandere epel felmier #yandere epel #yandere epel x reader #yandere rook x reader #yandere rook hunt #yandere pomefiore x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader

[ch3rryfunk]

Do you perchance have any headcanons for Luis? No one writes for him, and as much as I love Leon, I love my sassy ladies man Luis even more 😭❤️

i LOVE you for requesting this. Hell yes, I love my sassy man so so much.

Crushing on Luis Sera headcannons

☆*:.｡.

★ First things first, let’s elaborate on the type of man he is. He’s a romantic one, that’s for sure. He loves flirty one-liners and sappy quotes.

★ Being flirty and a self-proclaimed “ladies’ man” doesn’t mean he won’t be loyal, he is MORE than loyal if that’s possible. He’s the definition of a true gentleman.

★ Luis is well-experienced, he’s been in a few relationships, but most of them ended badly. Mainly because of his involvement with Umbrella and lack of quality time. His job consumed his life.

★ That being said:

★ You met when you got assigned to his team, both of you were researching the same parasite, so you had to transfer to his laboratory.

★ Anyway, as soon as he saw you, he internally fell to his knees.

★ He wasn’t going to tell you that, though. #proudman

★ Luis had never met someone who matched his energy so well, who ACTUALLY flirted back and cracked jokes at inappropriate times. He was so fond of you.

★ “So, you come here often?” He asked with a dumb smirk.

★ “Oh yeah, all the time. I just LOVE operating on disgusting parasites. Y’know what? I think I was born to do this. Right here, at your laboratory. It’s heaven.”

★ “Can’t help it, cariño. I’m one good lookin’ angel. So are you though, so are you.”

★ He loved your dry humor and your ability to sound so deadpan while cracking the most hilarious jokes.

★ You loved spending time with him, especially when you weren’t researching plagues and stuff you thought was gross. He was actually fascinating.

★ You were intrigued at first, but then you were full-on crushing on him.

★ You weren’t going to tell him that, though.

★ But yes, the more you got to know him, the closer you wanted to be. You started taking note of his likes and dislikes.

★ He liked smoking. Loved, even. And being the clingiest man you had ever met.

★ He disliked getting told to shut up and getting called “doctor”. He wasn’t a doctor, but a biologist. Yet, you liked annoying him with that title.

★ The moment he realized he was in love was when both of you went on a coffee break, and you pulled out a cigarette. It surprised him, he swore you didn’t smoke.

★ “Ay, you smoke too?”

★ “Nah, bought them just for you, Dr. Sera.”

★ The fact that you carried cigarettes for him (because he always managed to forget or lose his) almost sent him into oblivion. He felt like he was going to cry his heart out and fall to his knees once again.

★ Since you gave him cigarettes (all the time) he wanted to do something for you too, and you just happened to love books. So, he was committed to finding out what your favorite book was.

★ It was Don Quixote.

★ Oh god, was it life-changing for him. He had read the book before, being one of his favorites since it reminded him of his childhood. He decided to re-read it just for you. He wanted to be able to talk about all sorts of stuff, especially stuff you liked.

★ But maybe it got a little out of hand because he would NOT stop referencing the book every chance he got. You found it rather funny. And they say romance is dead.

★ Luis did numerous things to get your attention, he was a master at multitasking. He had you on his mind even when he was busy working with plagas. Which wasn’t very pleasant actually.

★ The closer you both became, the flirtier you both got. You started calling him handsome, and he called you “Mi amor”

★ It was a mutual inside joke at this point, but both of you wanted it to be very much real and not just some jest.

★ One time, you called him handsome too many times in a day. He couldn’t stop smiling.

★ “Keep calling me handsome, and I’ll start believing you got a little crush on me.” He said.

★ “Yeah, well, keep calling me mi amor and I might just kiss you.” You replied.

★ That caught him off guard but it shut him up, yet he couldn’t stop thinking about it, maybe if he thought about it long enough you’d read his mind and kiss him. After all, Luis was head over heels for you, as you were for him.

★ As your research came to an end, Luis knew he was losing time. He needed to ask you out or at least tell you how he felt, but he was never really the best at confessing his feelings, even in past relationships. He’d never felt this way about someone, you were so different, it had to be different with you. He desperately needed to be with you.

★ “Guess this is where we part ways, handsome.” You told him when you finished packing your stuff, you were being transferred back to your laboratory soon.

★ “Don’t go, corazón. Let’s uh, let’s elope.” He joked, earning a sweet laugh from you. He would sure miss your laugh. “We make a good team.”

★ Everything he said made your heart skip a beat. You wished you could’ve stayed longer, but your boss was too demanding. Not only that, but Luis didn’t want you to go. He felt so happy when you were around, and he wished he had met you earlier.

★ But in the end, he swallowed his pride and asked you out right there. Now or never was his motto, he needed to be true to himself for once. “Know what cariño? I’ve been thinking and maybe we should-”

★ “Yes cariño, I’ll go on a date with you. But first I need to turn this in. See you later, guapo.” He was flabbergasted, took him a few minutes to process what had just happened. It was safe to say he left his laboratory with the biggest smile ever and more swooned than he already was.

☆*:.｡.

sorry i took so long omg anyway hope u like it!! I love him sooo much im gonna start writing more luis content 😭 i also hope more people start writing for him!! Pls!!

#luis sera #headcannons #luis serra x reader #luis serra #luis serra navarro #resident evil #resident evil 4 #resident evil 4 remake #resident evil luis #luis sera re4 #re4r luis #luis sera x reader #resident evil remake #re4r #re4 remake #resident evil luis sera #x reader #gender neutral reader #re2 #leon kennedy #gaming #biohazard #leon s kennedy #resident evil vendetta #resident evil infinite darkness #re4 #re4 luis #luis re4 #luis sera re4r #luis serra re4r

[kat651]

Imagine: Loki finding the Norse mythology book in your room and thinking you’ll be terrified of him now.

You set the book down on your bed, leaving it open at the spot you’d been reading, and walked out of your room, not bothering to close the door. You had no worries about anyone coming in. 

Well, except for Thor. And that would only be because he forgot something of his on your desk after playing a game with you and Loki. (By playing I mean losing miserably) 

Loki poked his head in the doorway. “Y/n?” When he didn’t see you he turned to leave but stopped, the brightly colored book on your bed catching his eye. He took one look at the contents and his stomach turned into a tight knot. You were the only one who didn’t judge him for his actions in New York. But now that you have read this? He would be shocked if you could even walk past him without cowering in fear. 

Loki walked down the hall with his head hung low. He went into the kitchen and plopped down in a chair. He had been planning to tell you something that had been at the front of his mind for weeks now. He was going to tell you that he loved you but now? Now he was heartbroken and angry with himself. Why did he have to be so foolish all those years ago?

“Loki, you ok?” You asked, bringing him back from his thoughts. 

Loki took one look at you and scooted his chair away, not wanting to frighten you. “I-I’m fine…” he said in a quiet voice, not meeting your gaze, trying to seem as unintimidating as possible. 

You went to touch his shoulder when you saw, though he tried to hide it, a tear slipped down his cheek. 

Your heart clenched at the sight and you gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “Are you sure you’re ok?” 

Loki trembled before letting out a sob that he tried to suppress, his whole body moving as he did so. He then stood and silently walked out of the room, brushing away tears as he did so. 

You waited a moment before going to his room and knocking on his door. 

“I need to be alone right now,” came a muffled voice. 

You frowned and walked away, wondering what was bothering him. 

You re-entered the kitchen and decided to make a batch of cookies. You’d overheard Thor mention that Loki hadn’t gotten to try many Midgardian foods yet. 

You settled on just a simple batch of chocolate chip cookies, nothing too extravagant. 

Thor walked in as you began to put the ingredients in the mixer. “What ya doin’?”

You looked over at Thor with a slight frown. “Loki is in a bad mood, something upset him so I figured I’d make something for him, sweets always seem to make me feel better.” 

Thor put an arm around you. “I’m glad Loki has you looking out for him.” 

You smiled. 

Thor ended up helping you with the cookies, occasionally sneaking chocolate chips along the way when he thought you weren’t looking. 

“Thor Odinson! Put it down! Quit eating the ingredients or there won’t be any left to make cookies with!” You scolded, shaking your head and playfully waking his hand as you chuckled. 

Loki decided to slip out of his room and head to the kitchen, he wanted to steal Thor’s leftovers from the Chinese restaurant. That’s when he saw you laughing as you held up a spoon to Thor's mouth. “Say ah.”

Thor ate whatever was on the spoon and smiled. “Perfect.”

Loki felt a new wave of tears and ran back to his room where he cried into his pillow. Did you love Thor?

-.-.-

When you finished with the cookies you put a few on a plate. “I’ll leave the rest for whoever wants it.” You said. “Don’t eat them all, Thor!” 

You knocked on Loki’s door. No answer. You slowly opened it and found Loki asleep on his bed, his shirt had ridden up a bit revealing a few scars on his back. You quietly walked over set the cookies on his bedside table and scribbled a little note. You then covered him with an extra blanket since he’d fallen asleep on the comforter. 

You were about to leave when Loki let out a sad whimper in his sleep. You frowned and hesitated before leaning down, brushing aside the hair that fell on his face, and placing a gentle kiss on his temple. “I love you Loki…” you whispered. “I wish I could say that to you when you were awake…” 

You turned to see Thor standing in the doorway, phone in his hand. “I got it all on camera.”

“Thor!” You whisper yelled and ran after him. “Come back here!” 

Loki roused from his sleep and placed his hand on his temple where you’d kissed him only a moment before. He looked over and saw the plate along with the note. He grabbed a cookie, biting it and he glanced at the note. 

‘I’m always here if you need someone to talk to

-y/n

P.S. Thor helped make the cookies, I can’t take all the credit.’ 

Loki closed his eyes and slowly chewed, feeling a little better already, knowing both you and Thor went out of your way to make him feel better. 

Then Thor walked passed with you swung over his shoulder. “Put me down!” You hissed. “Oh Loki you’re awake! Please save me!” 

“No, she’s mine!” Thor yelled, running off. 

“Loki help!”

Loki found himself smiling. If you were asking for help, maybe you didn’t fear him after all. “Thor unhand the fair maiden!” Loki shouted, setting down the half-eaten cookie and running after him, dagger in hand. 

“Loki!”

Loki tackled Thor then decided to take the chance.  He took you bridal style and walked away. 

You smiled letting your head fall on his chest. “Thank you, Loki.” Loki found himself blushing at your words and took you to his room, setting you on the bed. He sat next to you, offering a lopsided smile. 

That smile made your heart swell and you smiled back. “I’m here,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. 

And just like that, a sliver of dread coiled on his stomach. His expression fell and he felt tears threatening to return. 

Just as he was sure he’d break down in another wave, he felt something wrap around him. He looked down to see you holding him close. “I’m here, I’m willing to listen if you need it.”

Then, Loki’s phone buzzed. Loki put one arm around you and picked up his phone with the other. He clicked on the message from Thor, watching the video with the volume of. He watched with a straight face as you left the cookies. A small smile adorned his face when you put the blanket on him. Then shock when you kissed him. He looked down at you as you continued to stay with your arms wrapped around his middle. 

Loki smiled. “Y/n…”

You looked up. “What is it?”

“You really aren’t afraid of me?”

“What?”

Loki frowned. “Y-that book you were reading… aren’t you… don’t I scare you?”

You sighed. “Is this what was upsetting you?”

Loki nodded, tears collecting in his eyes. 

You put your arms around his neck. “Loki, the past doesn’t define who you are today…”

Loki smiled. 

“Though I am curious as to how accurate that book is…”

He raised a brow. 

“Are you really a giant?”

Loki’s face lost its color. “I-I…” he sighed. “Yes…”

You looked up at him, placing your hands on his cheeks. “C-can I see?”

Loki hesitated for a moment before allowing his skin to slowly change to blue and his eyes to turn red. He expected you to cower. But instead, you slowly traced the designs on his body, stopping at the collar of his button-up shirt. 

Loki hesitated for a moment before slowly unbuttoning the shirt. 

You stared at this muscular chest as your cheeks heated up before you traced the outline of his abs. 

Loki blushed at the realization that you were admiring his body. 

You looked up at him and smiled. “Why would I ever fear this?” 

Loki felt tears prick his eyes once more. Not tears of sadness but of relief. You didn’t see him as a monster. 

You put your arms around him before shivering. “L-Loki your c-cold as ice…” Loki frowned, noticing Thor in the doorway. 

Thor smiled, winked, shoved an entire cookie in his mouth, and walked off. 

Loki hesitated for a second before placing a kiss on the top of your head. “I love you…”

You looked up at him and smiled softly, pulling his blue head closer and placing your lips on his. 

Loki turned back into his Asgardian form and you moaned from contentment, he was warm now. 

Fifteen minutes later, you were asleep at Loki’s side. A smile on your face. 

When you woke, you found Thor had posted a picture of you asleep on Loki’s chest in the avenger’s group chat with the caption. “Took these two long enough” underneath. 

Loki fumed for a moment, sighed, and tossed the phone on the carpet. “I’ll get for that later but as for now…” he looked at you with a smirk before pulling you closer and placing his lips on yours. “For now I’m content…” he mumbled, holding you in his arms and closing his eyes. 

pt2?

#@Keene200213 #@jiyascepter #@jp-716 #@lesbpotmurdocklokistan #@firelightinferno #loki x female reader #loki x reader #loki fanfiction #loki #loki odinson #thor #thor odinson #thor god of thunder #loki god of mischief #x reader #kat651 #marvel #@aresthelostboy #@your-setting-lotion

[johnpriceslamb]

hi there! i really liked your arthur with a feminine gf fic and id love to see more like that! could i maybe request a fic with a cute girly reader who is a friend of mary-beths and when mary-beth brings her to camp she spots arthur and literally goes heart eyes for him🥺 maybe whenever shes visiting camp arthur always finds an excuse to go over and talk to them just so he can see her aww! and its so obvious to everyone in camp and they all tease them over how sweet on each other they are🥰

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐍 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌 ! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

꒰ Arthur Morgan has his eyes on a certain hyper-feminine doll .꒱

BEFORE YOU PROCEED! Mary-Beth being a giant tease and a flirt to reader . hyper-feminine! reader . fem! reader . many pet names in use . awkward-written ending . quick luv stori . reader is mentioned 2 be physically shorter than characters mentioned below . reader has a dada and a mama . 2.3k words

the sounds of pearl tipped necklaces rattling together and ribbon-laced dresses ruffled in the precious spring breeze, paired with soft giggles and a nervous coo.

A stifled babble escapes her lips,

“Am I um.. even allowed to be here?” [name] meekly stammers. She holds onto her friends hand, her floral patterned dress was hitched slightly over her knees with her other hand, in reluctancy in which; to get her newly bought dress dirty from the ground they treaded upon.

She’s heard of people trespassing their gangs property, and much to her dismay— she may end up as dead as roadkill. A small shiver goes down [name]’s spine at the thought of that.

Mary-Beth had been wanting to show her a couple of her new books she’s bought in st. Denis— thus the excitement pouring from her aura as she drags her across the Van Der Linde’s property.

“Don’t worry yer pretty lil’ head off. I’ll just tell em’ yer with me. What could possibly go wrong?” She pats her shoulder with a reassuring smile. A slight grimace etched amongst [name]’s face as her bow-tipped shoe is coated with a bit of mud when she took another quiet step.

[name] doesn’t look convinced at all. The grip on her hand grows a bit tighter which signified her nerves playing in. Mary-Beth always teased her for being such a worry-wart.

“..Um, well, a lot actually.” [name] prattles on.

Mary-Beth rolls her eyes.

“Hush, now.”

She does what she’s told. To shut up in a non sugar-coated manner. The aroma of many boiled meat and vegetables in a pot comes hitting her nose as soon as she enters the area. She can’t help the little nose crunch as the smell hits too abruptly for her to even know. She’s about to question Mary-beth what that smell was—

“Ah! Mr. Pearson’s cooking again.”

[name] doesn’t know wether to ask her whom this Pearson guy was, or to stay quiet. She chooses the latter. A slight tilt to her head as her ribbon-tipped hair slightly falls down her shoulder out of habit when she’s confused.

This camp was interesting, she thought. [name] could only hope that there aren’t much people. She shyly hide behind Mary-Beth’s figure as they treaded closer to her spot in camp.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Unfortunately for [name], there was a certain amount of people that made her feel uncomfortable. She resists the urge to complain, biting her tongue to keep the words in. However, there were a few she’s met that she can’t help but admire. Karen and Tilly, their names were. Sweet girls they were, she deemed.

She sat upon a small patch of grass, her hands fiddling with a few strands of the everlasting green out of boredom, listening to Mary’s voice as she spoke.

In Mary-Beth’s hand adorns a romance-genre book, she’s reading the lines out loud. [name]’s cheeks become a darker hue at a certain line she verbally says— resulting to the both of them quietly giddily giggling.

“I cannot believe he’d actually do that to her,” Mary-beth comments as she fawns over the characters. [name] eagerly crawls towards her, re-reading the line she’s just read out.

“I thought he liked Sarah though?” [name] squeaked.

“Same!” Mary was far too happy to be able to share her love for books with another. She ends herself with a soft sigh, “I reckon he’ll leave her in a span of a click.”

“Mary?”

“Mhm?”

“Who.. Who’s that?”

This gets the girls attention. She quirks a brow, looking at the direction of [name]’s lithe finger. It’s not easy to hold back a smirk curling onto her lips.

“You pointin’ to that cowpoke over there?” Mary grins.

[name]’s doe eyes were practically planted with hearts, and she’s stammering like a tiny lamb, “I—I um.. uh.. I was just..”

“He was just starin’ at me, so I um.. nevermind—”

She cuts her off, “—His names Arthur,” Mary teases the sweetheart, “Lookit chu’!”

[name] could only shrink, “I.. shut up would you?”

“Whenever you swear it’s like looking at a yapping puppy.”

[name] fully turns around, the back of her head facing the burly cowpoke whom curiously stares at the pair of girls from afar.

“‘shut up’ is not a swear word, Mary-Beth!”

“Is so!” Mary-Beth argues back. She doesn’t mention the fact that Arthur’s slowly creeping up from behind.

“Shut up doesn’t have any implications of vulgar words now does it?” She puffs out her cheeks. Mary-beth can’t suppress the small smirk planted on her freckled face. The man stalks towards them closer, in a lazy manner.

“It so does! It’s considered rude and disrespectful— which is quite literally the definition of a curse word.” Closer.

“Mhm, even so it all really depends on context—” Closer.

“—Now how ‘bout you just caaalm down, sweetheart?” She drags the ‘a’ in calm to further on annoy her. Mary-Beth teases the dolled-up sweetheart, playing with her ribbons by twirling it around her finger.

[name] broods, huffing as she quiets down and crosses her arms like an itty-bitty brat. Goodness was she cute! Mary giggles.

Suddenly, the freckled-face darling stands up from her spot, eliciting a tiny ‘where you going?’ from [name].

“Just gonna get another book! I’ll be back in a second.” She cheekily trots away.

[name] could only tilt her head at her unusual behaviour.

Only for her to freeze up immediately at a quiet rumble of a man’s voice from behind—

“Mary-Beth’s been botherin’ you, I assume?”

[name] shyly turns her head around— wispy lashes fluttering as she stands up awkwardly to match his height— barely even. A whole foot taller than she was.

She fiddles with her fingers, before quietly nodding. It’s obvious to Arthur that she was a shy little thing. So with that information, he’s gentle in his approach, his tone is more softer.

“Got a name, little missy?” He asks. Oh, his voice.

“[name],” she shyly babbles. He was certainly NOT bad looking. She’s so, so so shy. “And you are..?”

“Arthur. Arthur Morgan.”

Despite already knowing his name, she can’t help but admire how his southern drawl drags.

“‘s nice to meet you, mister Morgan,” She meekly says.

“Just Arthur.”

“Oh- sorry.” She stammers.

Arthur can’t help the lazy grin on his face.

“No need to be sorry,” He hums. “Mary-Beth’s friend?”

“Best friend,” She corrects him with a tiny smile.

“Ah.” Despite the silence that continued on, it was somehow comforting around them. Guess his dim tone and sweet intentions made her feel like a comforted little bunny snuggled inside a warm burberry blanket.

Arthur’s eyes size her up and down. He doesn’t comment her shyness, rather her appearance. It was like looking at a live porcelain doll.

He can’t help but question, “You from Saint Denis, lil’ - missy?”

That pet name makes her shy.

“Mhm,” She fully looks at him. She has to tilt her head just to look at him. Her hands were behind her back, and she rocks on her platforms.

“Mm.. Figured.”

“Oh? How so?” She curiously quirks a brow.

He doesn’t hesitate to answer. “You look like a right tulip, missy.”

[name] almost lets out a soft giggle at his teasing. Her cheeks feel warmer, as do her nose and the tip of her dainty ears. A tulip?

“It’s the attire, is it not?” [name] leans back on the souls of her black bow platforms, tinkering those wispy lashes at him.

Gosh, what he’d do to just.. kiss those squishy cheeks of hers.

“Mhm. ‘S all frilly and.. so..” Arthur trails on. He mindlessly fiddles with the folded gossamer lines attached to her light pink dress. She allows him to, can’t help but also allow his scent to invade her nose— smoke and.. gunpowder. A large cry from her sweet vanilla scented perfume sprayed on her neck.

They’re both cut off by Mary-Beth strolling in with her other books. That cheeky, little smile she sent to Arthur makes a vein pop in [name]’s head, realising why she left so quickly.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

It was her second time visiting the camp-site.

From her previous experience, she figured that it wasn’t all that bad.. just ignore some folks.

[name] adorns a pink puff-sleeved ruffled dress with a simple pearl necklace— a bit similar to her previous outfit. From her giddy stance, it looked like she was waiting for Arthur, and not Mary-Beth.

Her smile even becomes brighter when she sees him nearby. And quite frankly, Mary-Beth has had enough of being answered with silence and shy eye-contact from afar. It was cute, yes, but it was becoming frustrating to bear.

“—And Johnathan allows her to wear his deceased wife’s ring! How absurd.” Mary-Beth squints her eyes at her response.

“Mhm,” [name] mindlessly hums, staring at Arthur.

“…He also ate a raw fish.” She tests.

“Mmm.”

“..He’s tap dancing.”

“That’s nice.”

She groans, poking the girl, “Are you even listening to what I’m saying right now?”

“Uhuh.” [name] unconsciously fiddles with the ends of her dress. She’s still staring at his direction. Doe eyes expand abnormally larger at the sight.

The girl in front of her droops. But pipes up again to get her attention.

“Arthur really likes flowers.”

That gets her attention. [name] immediately whips her pixie-sized head towards her with a tiny ‘ooh?’ Just the mere mention of his name makes her tummy flutter and giddy.

“You’re a real sucker for him ain’t ya?” Mary coos and giggles, nudging her small arm.

[name] shyly shrugs, “H—He’s nice m’kay? I can’t help it, I like nice guys..”

“To you,” She continues, “To you, he’s nice. To others he’s an absolute.. menace.”

“I’m thinking.. He has a real soft spot for ya,” She winks.

[name] could only scoff, “We’ve only met once, ‘Bethy.”

“He’s a real sucker for them frills and bows. He sees a pretty girl like you and he’s all lamb-like. Stumbly on the legs and stuttery on the mouth.” Mary teases, “And your one pretty girl, [name].”

“You think I’m pretty?” [name] sweetly swoons at her words.

“Darling, you’re quite literally the cutest girl i’ve ever met!”

“Marryyy…” [name] softly whines at her constant fawning, “You’re very pretty too, y’know.”

“Huuush,” Mary-Beth giggles and smooches her cheek. Sweet girls.

Suddenly, that cheeky little grin comes crawling onto her face. [name] tilts her head, weary and meek. She’s up to something.

“..Wh..what?”

“Your boyfriend’s behind you.”

“Boyfriend??? Now, what in the world are you—” [name] suddenly becomes quiet as she turns her head around and makes eye contact with Arthur. He gives a shy smile to both of the ladies, a sheepish expression on his face.

“I’ll leave you two be~” Mary-Beth stands up and cheekily skips away.

Silence surrounded the two.

“Hi, Arthur.” It was like looking at two teenagers in a puppy love.

“Hello, [name].”

Her heart speeds up. She shyly looks down at the ground, unsure of what to say. Despite this being their second time interacting, she can’t help the meekness flooding in her system.

“I’m startin’ to wonder if yer clothes are strictly pink-only.” He gestures to her short little dress.

She giggles softly, “I do have a few non-pink clothing y’know.” [name] is comfortable enough to peer at him through those damn wispy lashes. Puckered lips, cherubic-like cheeks, and those puppy eyes.

“I wouldn’t believe that,” He lets out a bent arm towards her for her to take gently and stand up. [name] does so, standing to her full height with her pixie-like hands holding onto his arm like an elderly couple.

“Mind a stroll?” He asks with a gentle, soft tone.

“I wouldn’t mind at all,” She pipes up.

And there they went off.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

[name] was getting ready.

This time, she wasn’t there to visit Mary-Beth. She was here to visit Arthur.

More so because of his request of her to come back soon. If she were to be a puppy, her tail would be wagging as quickly as the speed of light. She was giddy at his request.

This was… the umpteenth time they’ve interacted with each other. Quite literally, everyone knew they’d get together sooner or later.

She adorns a white, cotton-like ruffled dress with a simple heart shaped necklace. On her head, she wore a pretty little bonnet.

As she approaches the location, she can’t help the sweet smile on her face as she sees Arthur coming towards her direction again. His hair was simple— a bit neater than before and his usual black vest outfit, with no grime or dirt anywhere.

“Hi,” She waves giddily.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He allows her tiny hands to come and place themselves near his bicep. He bends his elbow a bit near his figure to allow her come closer to his stature. He makes a mental note to be more careful around her. The bonnet on her head catches his attention.

He murmurs a soft ‘cute..’ underneath his breath, as he leads her away to take a little stroll around a pretty little meadow.

“How was your day, hm?” He asks.

“Good,” She shyly replies, “Daddy’s doing okay now. He’s not as sick as he was a week ago.” His heart softens.

“Ah. That’s good.”

“How about you? How was your day?” She asks with a glimmer in her eyes.

“Decent at best.” He replies with a slight grunt, gently pushing her away from a small puddle he can see that’s formed on the ground. Doesn’t want her shoes to get messed up from the dew-dropped floor. He’s genuinely thinking of just picking her up.

“How’s yer ma and yer pa doing?”

“Good and good,” She happily smiles, very happy that he’s asking about her family. Her doe eyes light up at a pretty pink wild flower, a smirk etched on Arthur’s face as he sees that cute little expression of hers.

A soft ‘huh.’ escapes his lips, he stops suddenly. Arthur’s blue eyes sizes her up and down, only realising just now—“You’re not wearing pink.”

[name] looks up at him, itty-bitty smile, “Told you I don’t have just pink coloured clothing.”

He snorts at her answer, “Damn brat, you are.”

“Your brat.”

“Yeah. My brat.”

#fem! reader #afab! reader #fem! you #arthur morgan x fem! reader #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #rdr2 x you #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan fic #arthur morgan x fem! you #arthur morgan rdr #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #rdr #female reader #rdr2 arthur #coquette #hyper feminine #hyperfem! reader

[httpswritings]

The Great War — Katie McCabe x Reader

Additional info: Story inspired Taylor Swift’s The Great War. I’m in my Katie era, but I’m also planning on writing about other players, especially Alexia, which I have like four ideas to write about. We’ll see. I also have a draft of Ruesha x Katie inspired in Moth to a flame by The Weeknd, but I’m doubting about posting it or not. Maybe in the future I’ll write a Caitlin x Katie fic, but I don't have a clear vision of them yet to properly write about them.

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, throwing up and therapy, sensitive topics overall, avoid reading if you find them triggering. Angsty Katie.

Word count: 1691

Right after Katie ended her relationship with Caitlin Foord, she met Y/N. After some time, they got into a relationship together. They enjoyed every single second of the magical connection they seemed to have. With the passing of time, Katie became more and more anxious about her relationship with Y/N. She doubted she could be what Y/N deserved, even though her girlfriend took her time every day to remind Katie that she's never been as happy in a relationship as she was with her.

«My knuckles were bruised like violets

Sucker punching walls, cursed you as I sleep-talked»

Two heartbreaks in such a little time, with both her Ireland National Team's member Ruesha and girlfriend of seven years, and her Arsenal's teammate Caitlin Foord, who was her girlfriend during half a year, made the Irishwoman insecure about her ability to love, to trust, to have a happy fairytale ending. Katie knew these thoughts would damage her relationship with Y/N, but she couldn't help but to spend most of her day tracking every single detail that built her relationship to the obsessive point where she felt absolutely sick of herself.

«Spineless in my tomb of silence

Tore your banners down, took the battle underground»

When she reached her limit, she told Y/N about what was going on. Y/N responded well and helped Katie, and it started well. Really well. But after some time, Katie fell back into a cycle of doubt and anxiety, and those sensations kept growing when she noticed any change in Y/N's mood, as she took it too personally. This made her re-experience in her mind those moments of stress while she was with Ruesha or Caitlin.

«And maybe it was ego swinging

Maybe it was her

Flashes of the battle come back to me in a blur»

Y/N tried to understand her, she tried and tried but eventually, she reached her limit.

“I want to help you. I really do. But I can't continue like this. I'm not Ruesha, nor I am Caitlin. I am aware that being in a new relationship it's difficult for you, so maybe we should take things a bit slower. I don't mean to take a break, but maybe I should go back to my flat. We will move on slower than we did before, but I do think it's the only way to work it out.”

«All that bloodshed, crimson clover

Sweet dream was over»

“Yeah, maybe you're right´”, that was Katie's only response. Y/N limited herself to sigh. That night, Katie slept alone in her bed. Her body reacting to the cold sheets and crying herself to sleep.

«My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War»

Sweet morning messages from Y/N, “Good morning, baby. Do good at training today! Love you ;)”

Surprise visits from Y/N, lovely gifts, usually handmade ones, brought Katie to tears as she felt endlessly loved.

«Always remember

Tears on the letter

I vowed not to cry anymore

If we survived the Great War»

Katie prayed for things to get back as they were during the first months of the relationship. The feeling of her not being a good girlfriend to Y/N haunted her even in her sleep.

«You drew up some good faith treaties

I drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone»

Y/N suggested going to a therapist together, but Katie was unsure about that. She thought that if she couldn't quite open to her girlfriend about her feelings and thoughts, she wouldn't be able to talk about what was bothering her to a therapist. Such a huge contrast between the two parts of the relationship that drew them even more apart.

«You said I have to trust more freely

But diesel is desire, you were playing with fire

And maybe it's the past that's talkin'

Screamin' from the crypt

Tellin' me to punish you for things you never did

So I justified it»

“No, I'm sorry, but I'm not doing this. I feel uncomfortable talking to a stranger about our issues.”

“I know, baby, I was just suggesting it. Let me explain you why. We are aware of having some problems in our relationship, but we don't really know how to get through it. We've tried and things keep getting worse. Maybe talking to someone who's out of our relationship can make this whole situation clearer for the both of us.”

«All that bloodshed, crimson clover

The bombs were close and

My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

Always remember

The burning embers

I vowed not to fight anymore

If we survived the Great War»

Katie took some weeks to meditate Y/N´s idea. She was terrified of being judged by the therapist they would talk to. Even more scared of Y/N realizing she didn't do any good to her. Eventually, she agreed.

“Maybe she's right. People attend therapy sessions. It's normal, Katie. It's normal”, she said to herself.

«It turned into something bigger

Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed»

Katie was not new to getting help from a therapist. She was very open about her mental health in different areas of her life, whether that included football or not. The first time she attended a therapy session was when she was a teenager. It went well, so did the first sessions with Anna, Katie's and Y/N´s psychologist.

Making progress is not a linear process, and making mistakes is a part of the success. Mistakes are a victory in themselves, it means that you're still trying. One day, Katie had an individual session with Anna. Anna felt it was Katie's time to open about her two past relationships; a young adult romance that lasted for more than half a decade and a short but intense romance of one year after a breakup.

It was a slow conversation filled with many pauses from Katie.

“Are you gonna tell Y/N what I'm telling you?”

“No, Katie. This stays between me and you”, said Anna.

As Katie told her her experiences in love, she broke down.

The wall she had built, in order to avoid being hurt and judged, collapsed in that therapy room.

“Don't be afraid to cry. You have nothing to prove to me nor to Y/N. This is about you and your healing process. Y/N will help you and accompany you, but it's crucial for you to work on yourself, especially being a public figure.”

«Your finger on my hair pin triggers»

As Katie arrived home, she unlocked her phone and asked Y/N to come over.

“I've asked Anna, and she told me it was a good initiative and a great way of gaining some independence in our relationship, leaving her out of it for a while. Don't feel obliged to!”

“I am exhausted, baby. Work was something else today, and I’m a little bit irritated because of it, lol. Maybe another time? Love you.”

As Katie was about to spiral, she remembered Anna's advice. She breathed deeply. Y/N was setting her boundaries. She trusted Katie enough to tell her the truth and not to make any excuses. She felt tired from work. Y/N is not mad at her. She didn't do anything wrong. Everything’s okay.

«Soldier down on that icy ground

Looked up at me with honor and truth

Broken and blue, so I called off the troops»

The next day Katie woke up to a text from Y/N.

“Good morning, princess. I had a great sleep, what about you? How did you sleep? I’m up to seeing you today if you feel like it. Love you.”

Still slightly asleep, she smiled.

“I can't wait to see you today, beautiful girl. I had a good sleep, too. Good to have the bed all to myself ;))”

She frowned after sending the text with that joke at the end.

“Breath, Katie, let these useless thoughts pass. Both you and Y/N feel comfortable teasing each other”, said Katie to herself.

“Ha, ha, really funny. We both know you missed having me snoring next to you.”

“How do you know?!?!”

«That was the night I nearly lost you

I really thought I lost you»

As Katie was preparing herself to go out with Y/N to have lunch, she remembered the night where Y/N left her house.

She doesn't freak out to the thought of it, but instead she does an exercise of introspection. She sees herself in her mind, almost throwing up, completely emotionally depending on her girlfriend while pushing her away and bottling up her feelings.

«We can plant a memory garden

Say a solemn prayer, place a poppy in my hair

There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair

And we will never go back

To that bloodshed, crimson clover

The worst was over»

Now she looks at herself in the mirror. She sees herself, Katie, as the woman who knows that she's loved, and she's deserving of being it. The woman who respects her girlfriend’s boundaries and doesn't freak out at the tiniest change that she perceives. The woman who's going to take her girlfriend out to have a good time having lunch, not worrying about anything but what order she's going to have.

«My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

Always remember

We're burned for better

I vowed I would always be yours

'Cause we survived the Great War

I would always be yours

'Cause we survived the Great War

I vowed I would always be yours»

As they arrived home back from the restaurant, Y/N walked towards Katie.

“I’m so proud of you, baby. You did this. You are doing it every day. I’m so excited to see where our relationship leads us to.”

As Katie sobbed, she softly laughed, “It’s nice to cry sometimes. God, I feel so relieved. I’m so proud of myself, too, of us! Thank you for being there for me, Y/N, thank you. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life as your girlfriend.”

“Even when you'll wake up to my snoring?”

“Especially when I'll wake up to your snoring.”

#katie mccabe #katie mccabe x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso x reader

[the-traveling-poet]

Hi , I just hope you accept my request " Eren x reader" s4 the table scene , he said how much he hated Mikasa and turned to y/n and hurt her by words , what if he asked to talk her alone to hurt her more and she said she regret her feelings for him , and he got softened

Regret

══════════════════════

Amidst the chaos surrounding both Paradis and Marley, Y/N finds herself stuck between a rock and a hard place.

While staying close to her childhood friends Mikasa and Armin, Y/N is forced to come face to face with the man she’d grown to love for the first time in months. His departure had hit her the hardest of them all, but still she kept her chin held high.

Will she be able to rid herself of her feelings for Yaeger before it’s too late for her? Or will she succumb to her grief…

══════════════════════

Pairing: Eren x reader

Warnings: Angst. Pure angst. Literally just pain. Language. Spoilers for S4 if you haven’t read/watched it yet.

Angst, depression, betrayal, S4

Taglist: @21aurora

══════════════════════

A/N: Ofc anon! This one seriously hurt to write T-T

I’m sorry this took me forever to publish!

As always if this isn’t to your expectations I’ll re-write it how you want!

Enjoy~🤎

══════════════════════

What had just been a moment of relative relaxation, quickly turned to one of panic.

One minute, you’d watched as Jean and Connie bickered over a bottle of wine in one of the MP’s cabinets, while Commander Hange spoke quietly with the Braus family before aiding Jean in cleaning off a ‘poisoned’ a young Marlian boy, Falco.

But the moment Niccolo lunged for the young Marlian girl, Gabi, shit hit the ceiling. The Braus’s adopted daughter lunged for the girl, screaming and crying out obscenities. You watched on helplessly as Niccolo took a swipe at Gabi, having only just learned of the girl’s murder back in Marley.

Sasha…poor Sasha. The memory of her death still haunted you every night you slept. To see her murderer, a young girl, standing before you uncharged and free of imprisonment…It hurt. But she was a child, you knew. A poor, brainwashed child.

Before you could even attempt to take action and aid the situation, the door behind you creaked open. Looking over your shoulder, you spotted Floch and his ‘followers’; a mix of MPs and what was left of the Scouting Regime soldiers.

By the time Hange and Jean returned to the dining room, you and Onyankopon were already being held at gunpoint.

“What’s wrong?” Hange asked in haste when she heard a muffled yelp from Onyankopon, but froze at the scene before them.

“Commander Hange,” Floch greeted coolly, ignoring your persistent glare. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Floch lowered the gun aimed at your head, and turned to Hange. “I imagine you know where Zeke’s at…We’ll have you take us there.”

You were only a second away from opening your mouth to retort his absurd statement, when Armin’s startled yelp from the adjacent room made your blood run cold.

“Ere-“

Eren…

Without giving it a second though, you raced to the side of the room towards the doors, paying no mind to the soldiers who held guns to your back. You had to go. You had to see him…

“Let her,” Floch’s airy tone caught you off guard, making you pause with your hand on the door handle.

“He’s expecting her presence too, you know.”

The guards lowered their guns from your back, and you took this moment to race through the double doors.

Behind you, you faintly registered a sinister chuckle coming from Floch, but you ignored him in your haste.

You slammed the door behind you quickly, and took a look around the nearly vacant room. And there he stood; just before you at the head of a round table in the very center of the room.

Armin and Mikasa sat with their hands placed palm down on the table cloth, eyes wide and shoulders stiff. Gabi was with them, tense and shaking in utter fear. You visually checked them over for any sign of injury, and when you found none and relaxed. But only slightly. You took your eyes off of your comrades, only for your eyes to suddenly met his.

Eren gave you no sign of emotion as he looked into your eyes from across the room. If anything, he looked bothered. His hair was slightly disheveled, and his clothes worn. But the look of indifference on his face only made his overall appearance look more menacing.

“Y/N, you’re here. Please, take a seat.” He spoke in a low tone while pulling out the chair he stood behind with gestured for you to take it. Taking a shaky breath, you decided to follow his ‘request’ and strode forward to accepted the seat.

“Eren-“ you began, but he cut you off.

“Hands on the table, and don’t remove them.” He shoved your chair into place, and swept his gaze across the four of you.

Despite his glare, you thought he looked…Weary. Sad, perhaps.

After a long pause, he broke the silence suffocating the room.

“As I said; I wanted to talk, with you guys.”

You remained silent and still in your seat, your fists clenching at the table cloth when you noticed the gash formed across his palm.

A warning to you all.

“Conflict isn’t necessary to solve Eldia’s problems.”

Behind you, a grandfather clock ticked against the wall for every silent second that passed his statement, setting you on edge.

“Eren, we’re the ones who wanted to talk.” Armin spoke up, his gaze sharp and focused. “What made you attack Marley all on your own? Did Zeke and Yelena really talk you into joining them?”

The question had been nagging at you for some time as well, but for now you remained silent.

“I am free,” Eren stated solemnly. “The things I do and choices I make are all decided by my own free will.”

“No…No, you are being manipulated!” Mikasa suddenly grit out, leaning over the table and standing up. “You wouldn’t have involved the lives of children and innocents, even if they were enemies!”

Eren kept silent, merely listening to her outburst. But before he could respond to Mikasa’s allegations, you found it within yourself to finally speak up as well.

“Eren, I know you care about us. More than anyone!”

You stood up from the table, removing your hands from the table to place them onto Eren’s broad shoulders.

“Don’t you?! The reason you saved Mikasa…Armin…Me…You love u-“

“I said to keep your hands on the table, now do it,” Eren cut you off with a harsh glare, switching gazes between you and Mikasa. Mikasa slumped back down into her chair in defeat, clutching at her scarf. But you remained standing, tightening your grip on his shoulders.

“Eren please, why won’t you stop this?!” You cried out.

“I said, sit.” Eren spat back through clenched teeth, forcibly removing your hands from his shoulders.

A pang of hurt shot through your heart, making your chest feel heavy. Furrowing you’re brow, you reluctantly sat and placed your hands back onto the table.

Once you were all sat and silent, Eren continued.

“I spoke with Zeke in Liberio; brother to brother. Zeke knows more about titans than even Marley as a whole.”

He paused, turning his attention to Armin.

“Armin, aren’t you still visiting Annie? Do you think that’s if your own free will?”

Armin froze, his eyes blown wide.

“If memories are what shape people, a part of you is Bertholdt now. Within you is an enemy with feelings for another enemy. Armin, Bertholdt has gotten into your head.”

Armin sat in shocked silence, staring blankly back at Eren. You took this moment to make a decision.

For better or for worse, you had to try…

“Then what does throat make me, Eren?”

Eren turned to look at you, raising a brow. He seemed to not have expected you to speak up again so soon, if at all. But curiosity got the better of him, and he gave you room to speak. So you continued.

“You dare accuse Armin for being lost to memories of another, for falling for another that. is the enemy. So what does that make me, huh? Am I now an enemy, too?” You spoke quickly, feeling a need to get it all out.

After all these years…

“What are you talking about, Y/N?” He drawled out. “You have no part in this conversation. You are Eldian and not a shifter. You know what I’m saying doesn’t apply to you.”

“Oh, but doesn’t it? Don’t my feelings for you count for anything? You cant call Armin an enemy without accusing me as well!” You cried out, taking a stand once more.

Eren’s eyes widened; it seemed he wasn’t expecting this. “Y/N…I-“

Mikasa cut him off this time with a hell, not minding his sudden glare on her for interrupting.

“Eren, what could you possibly be sayin-“

“The Ackermans, too.” Eren scoffed, now standing as well beside you. “The Ackermans were intentionally designed to protect Eldia’s king. Back then, when faced with life and death you heeded my order; Fight.”

“No…Protecting you was not a mistake…” Mikasa whispered, fear in her shaky eyes.

“It was because of you I became strong, Eren!”

“No, Mikasa. Your family was made to forget who they are and love only to protect. You are slaves.” Eren scowled, his eyes narrowed dangerously. Their conflict gave you a headache, but you knew better than to speak up just yet.

“Eren, enough!” Armin suddenly called out, taking a stand with the rest of you.

“Do you know what I hate more than anyone?Any of you?” Eren continued on, ignoring his friend. “Those who are not free. They’re just like livestock.”

“Eren!” you yelled, filled with a sudden rage. Rage fueled by grief.

This wasn’t the boy you’d grown up with. Fought beside. Come to love so deeply…

Eren snapped his gaze to you, his glare deepening. “Just seeing you has always pissed me off so much, Y/N. And now I finally understand why; I can’t stand the sight of a slave who obeys orders without question.”

His cold statement made you gasp and stumble back a step. Hurt flooded through you, but you fought off your tears for now.

“You don’t mean that…”

“Ever since we were little…I’ve hated you.”

Everything around you became white noise as you stared on in horrified silence, your mouth agape with all the words you wished to say. And yet nothing came of it.

Faintly you registered Armin leaping across the table towards Eren, fists raised and teeth clenched. Words were exchanged, but you heard none of them. Like Gabi, you remained frozen in your spot.

Mikasa lunged forward to stop Armin, only to freeze in fear as she recognized what Ered had said about the Ackermans might just be true. Armin was pinned to the table by Eren’s strong grip, shouting over his shoulder to the man above him.

The moment Eren threw Armin across the room, you finally snapped and regained your ability to speak.

“Eren!” you screamed.

Immediately Eren held still, his back to you but his head turned to silently acknowledge your voice.

“Stop this! What have you done?” You shouted. Your voice shook as well as your hands with every word you uttered, but you knew you had to keep going. Or else you’d never get another chance.

Deep down, you knew this is how it had to be.

“You belittle Mikasa…manhandle Armin…hate me…And for what? What is it you truly want from us?”

Eren turned to face you, his emotions hidden behind his cold facade. But he let you speak. Let you say the things you both knew, deep down, you had both longed to say for years.

“You can hate me all you want. You can hate all of us, all you want. But don’t you dare for a moment accuse us of anything but loyalty. We love you, Eren. I love you. You know that, I know you do!” You cried out in earnest, tears finally escaping your eyes no matter how hard you fought them.

“I’ve always loved you. I’ve tried, time and time again, to show you this. And for everything I’ve ever done…How could you?”

With that final whisper, you turned your back to him and crossed your arms around your sides. Looking for any form of comfort.

“Y/N…You know I-“ Eren started to speak, his tone much softer now. Though you couldn’t see it, he was fighting tears himself. But he refused to let anyone notice how he wiped them away.

“No. Just, fucking don’t.” You stated softly. “Figure out this mess with the war. Do what you must. But please…Please understand us…”

Just then, a couple MP’s burst through the door, demanding to know what the noise was about.

“I’m fine,” Eren reassured them, his voice hollow. “Go back to Floch. I’ll join up soon.”

Once they hesitantly left, you finally turned in your heel and gave Eren one last pleading look.

“Figure this out, Eren. Figure this out for us.”

With that you turned to leave the room. To leave your companions and to leave your love. But just before you twisted the door handle to rejoin Commander Hange and the others, you looked over your shoulder and made direct eye contact with Eren.

“And just know…Despite everything that happened in the past… Despite what happened here in this room…Just know I still love you. I’m scared that I always will.”

With that you left, not seeing the way Eren’s emotions finally pushed through his facade and showed on his face. The way he reached out his hand to stop you leaving, despite the physical distance between the two of you.

You never would know, just as he would never forget the way what was left of his heart shattered in his chest that day.

#eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x y/n #eren jaeger x you #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #attack on titan #snk #aot #aot x y/n #aot x you #aot season 4 #aot spoilers #eren jaeger angst #aot angst #snk angst

[buckys-little-belle]

Chapter Two - Backpack, Backpack

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW. 

Warnings - Mentions of Bucky’s ‘Old Life’, talks about slight “Violence” (Bucky’s past), talks of a first aid kit, feeling “scared” about being a little, fluff! Obviously! 

Word Count - 2164

Note - I've finished all of Bub and Buck's story now, and I have to say it's been crazy going back and blending chapters/blurbs together to create a more cohesive story. It's been fun, and crazy, and honestly I missed this little place that I loved so much. Cafe BigNSmall is the beginning of so much, not just this account. It was the first little writing thing I put out that really got traction and that led me to where I am now. Going to school in January for creative writing, beginning the process of writing my own book. This little fic that has brough comfort to so many, myself included, is so much bigger than just a fanfiction or just a writing process and I'm so thankful for everyone who has stuck by my side, who has liked, reblogged, and sent asks about it. I love every one of you, I love who you've helped me become, and I've loved every minute of re-writing this series and I hope you love re-reading, or even reading it for the first time. I just have so so so much love in my heart for this and for you <3

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Bucky sat at his same table for the umpteenth time, but this time he sat with a smile knowing someone was on their way to sit with him. For the first time in a while Bucky wasn’t sitting and watching everyone while feeling jealous, instead he watched as a Caregiver hugged their Little and felt hopeful that he might get to have that one day. 

“MR!” Y/n yelled from the entrance like she couldn’t believe he was there, sitting at their table ready for whatever she wished to do. “Hi!” She smiled at him when she got to the table, her usual overalls and t-shirt combo covered by a heavy sweater. He was happy she had covered up more than yesterday, the sky grey instead of blue, and the colder. 

“Hi.” He smiled back, Bucky was sure he looked goofy with how big his smile was but he didn’t care. “Chilly?” He asks as he watches them shiver slightly when the finally sit down. 

“Yeah.” Y/n tilts her head to the side as she seems to contemplate something. “I think ‘m gonna get a hot chocolate.” She rummages around her bag before finding her wallet and pulling out a five dollar bill. Bucky was quicker though, already on his feet and in the line. “What are you gonna get?” Y/n asks as she joins him in the line. 

“Well, I think I’m going to get a hot chocolate too.” He looks down at her, a silly grin on her face as she nods her head. “Their cake pops look good too.” Bucky points to the glass case full of baked goods and premade sandwiches. 

“I know!” Y/n practically jumps. “I had one once.” They frown. “But I never have enough moneys for one, maybe next week I’ll get one.” They nod their head, agreeing with their idea. 

Bucky already planned on buying Y/n a cake pop, but wanted to make sure she actually did like them. Finding out she’s only had one because she can’t afford them has him vowing to always buy her one whenever she’s here. 

The money Bucky got from the government after his treatment went public often sits in his bank account unused, he has what he needs, and most of what he wants, and he hates spending the money on useless things. Yet as he watches Y/n’s eyes flicker to the case full of sweet treats with a frown on their face he’s happy to know he finally has something, someone worth spending money on. 

“Hi, what can I get you today?” The barista smiles at Bucky, giving an extra sweet grin and a wave to Y/n. 

“Can I get two medium hot chocolates, please?” Bucky places his hand on Y/n’s shoulder to get her attention before asking. “What kind of cake pop do you want Bub?” 

“I can’t.” They shrug their shoulders, clearly not aware that Bucky’s already ordering for her. 

“I’m buying you one. Which one do you want, Bub?” He adds some clarification, leaning down slightly to be at Y/n’s height, pointing to the cake pops in the case. “I love vanilla, I think I’ll get a vanilla one.” He says, hoping that him getting one will make Y/n feel less nervous. 

She begins playing with her hands, twisting her fingers together, something Bucky’s noticed she does when anxious. “Um, I like chocolate.” She whispers, looking back at Bucky with weary eyes. “But I don’ wan’ you to buy it, I -” Bucky doesn’t let her finish her sentence, instead he stands and orders both cake pops before paying. 

With both hands on Bub’s shoulders he moves them over to the wait station. “When you’re with me I’ll be the one buying things, okay?” His tone is sweet but also somehow firm, hoping his words make sense and are final, but also hoping he doesn’t seem too overbearing. 

“Like a, like when.” Bub stumbled over her words before turning around to face Bucky, his hands dropping from her shoulders only for her to grab his left, glove covered, hand to fidget with it like she does hers. “Like a caregiver?” She asks, finally meeting Bucky’s glance. 

“Exactly like that.” Bucky nods. “I’ll act like your caregiver when we’re together, okay?” He regrets using the word ‘act’ the moment he says it, Y/n somberly nodding at his words. He wants to be her caregiver all the time, he doesn’t want to just act as one while around her, but he met her yesterday. Neither of them know each other well enough for that kind of trust, yet Bucky seems to feel like they both are on the same wavelength. Like they’ve waited long enough for someone to be their other, why wait a little longer. 

“I’d like tha’.” Y/n nods, turning back around in Bucky’s arms to wait for their cake pop and hot chocolate. 

. ★ . ✪ . ★ .  ✪ . ★ . ✪ . ★ .  ✪ . ★ . 

For a whole week Bucky and Bub met up everyday, getting hot chocolate and cake pops. Y/n kept giving Bucky colouring pages to take home with her signature at the bottom, his fridge now covered in them after a frantic late night trip to buy magnets. Walking into his house and seeing the fridge coloured in pictures made him love the fact that he bought a huge fridge able to store at least another week's worth of pictures without having to remove anymore of the ones he’s already been given. 

“Hi, Mr!” Y/n smiled as she sat down on her booth seat, her backpack placed on the table as she got comfortable. “I made you something.” 

“You did?” Bucky unpackaged her cake pop and placed it on a napkin, sliding it over to her along with her hot chocolate. “Careful it’s hot.” Bucky warned as Bub went straight for her drink the moment it was in her line of sight. 

“Otay.” She blew a breath onto the cup, though Bucky wasn’t sure how helpful her hot puff of air would be in cooling it down, instead pulling it back to himself and blowing cold air on it for her. “Here.” She placed a piece of paper onto the table. 

This picture wasn’t one from a colouring book, but one on regular plain paper, drawn by Y/n and coloured by her to. Two figures stood hand in hand with a box of crayons in the middle. One person was obviously Bucky, the other Y/n. Even if he couldn’t tell Bub had written their names “Mr” and “Bub” below each of their persons. “I love it.” Bucky smiled, sliding the, now less hot, hot chocolate back to Y/n, her taking a sip immediately and humming in content. “I’ll have to put in on my fridge.” He said aloud, though he meant to keep the words to himself, not sure if it was wrong to admit he had grown attached to Y/n enough to want her pictures on his fridge. 

“Really?” Her usually playful voice grew serious, her eyes filled with tears. “My drawing?” 

“Yeah, Bub.” He smiled, glad she seemed happy over the idea. “I have a few of your drawings on my fridge already.” He admitted. Before he could place it in his bag Y/n was up and out of her seat sliding into Bucky’s booth before wrapping her arms around him in a hug. “Oh.” Bucky lets out a surprised sigh. 

“I like you, you nice.” Y/n said as she pulled away, though didn’t leave the booth. 

“You’re nice too, Bub.” Bucky said in disbelief. He knew the two of them were making good steps towards fully being comfortable around one another, Y/n seemed to slip further and further into regression, showing she felt safe around Bucky, and she had even asked him if he was the Winter Soldier and hadn't run when he said yes. But he hadn’t expected her to feel comfortable enough to hug him, yet he wasn’t going to argue or complain. 

Y/n eyed his bag for a minute or so before asking a question. “Wha’s in your bag?” She asked, this being the first time she had truly seen it. 

“I’ll show you what’s in my bag, if you show me what’s in yours?” He offered, having been wondering what she brought with her to the cafe everyday. “Deal?” He asked, and she perked up, agreeing before sliding out and back onto her seat, something Bucky frowned at. 

“Otay!” Bub squealed, opening her green backpack before digging around a little bit. The first thing she pulled out was a small zipper pouch, the fabric printed with frogs and plants. “This has m’ keys, an’ my phone.” She pulled both out, her phone being secured in a bag inside her bag making sense as to why it took her so long to find it when her alarm went off. “An’ it has my tic tacs in it! D’ you wan’ one?” She asked with a smile, holding out tropical tic tacs to Bucky. 

“I’m okay, but thank you Bub.” He smiled, proud of her manners and willingness to share her things. He knew he couldn't take credit for her good behaviour, or her manners. She was a sweet girl even if he didn’t remind her here and there of her manners, yet he was still extremely proud of her. 

“M’kay.” Bub nodded her head, popping a few tic tacs in her mouth before moving on. “Dis, um, dis is my frog.” Bub’s once very confident attitude dulled slightly as she brought the frog stuffie out, like she was waiting for someone to say something rude. 

“He’s very cute.” Bucky reassured her, his hand brushing against the stuffed animal's foot, his fur in perfect condition. “What’s his name?” 

Y/n still seemed on alert, but opened up a little more. “I call him Green Bean.” She pats his head. 

“That’s a perfect name.” Bucky chuckles, loving how creative his Bub is. “Where did you get his outfit?” He asks, referring to the knitted overalls and t-shirt, identical to Y/n’s everyday outfit. 

“I made dem!” Bucky was happy to see her peppy spark come back as she spoke about her stuffy. Giving him the rundown on how she made them, and made clothing for all her other stuffies at home. Then she gave him the rundown on a bunny stuffie she really wanted that was identical to the one she has at home. Though “He’s no’ the same Mr! He’s a different colour!” something Bucky quickly made a mental note of. 

Bub only had her wallet and a sweater stuffed at the bottom of her bag, and a small bag of long forgotten goldfish that Bucky immediately threw out left to show. “Your turn.” Y/n reminded Bucky, gesturing to his backpack. 

“Well.” He started, opening his bag, pulling out his wallet, keys and phone. “These are the things I have on me at all times.” He said, watching Y/n pick up his keys and fiddle with them, clearly loving his accumulated keychain and key combo from the last 100 years. “Then I have a First Aid Kit.” He pulls out a bulky box, a few things banging around inside. 

“In case someone ge’s hurt?” Y/n asks, concern dripping from her expressions. 

“Exactly.” Bucky answers, though he doesn’t admit that he mainly carries it out of fear that he’ll hurt someone and need to patch them up, but he hopes that Y/n’s just thinking about scrapes and small cuts and not the carnage he’s left behind. 

“Do you have princess bandaids?” She asks with all seriousness. 

“I have princess ones, paw patrol, and starwars.” He playful one ups her, the two of them laughing before he continues. “Then I have extra crayons, colouring pages, and a couple water bottles.” He pulls out the extra things, Y/n’s hands immediately going to the colouring pages. 

“Can I do this one, please?” She asks, bouncing in her seat, her frog underneath her arm. 

“Of course, Bub.” He smiles, the frog page she chose the one he printed off last night in the hopes to give it to her. 

After the small show and tell the two of them sat together eating their cake pops and drinking their hot chocolate. Everytime he looked up Bucky realised just how lucky he was, to have found a Little who was as chill as Bub was, and as sweet as she was too. He realised that while he wished he could have met her sooner, he was happy he waited. 

“Why don’t we go to the park tomorrow?” He asked, thinking it could be good for them to get out somewhere other than just the cafe. 

“Yes!” Y/n practically jumped out of her seat at the idea, the two of them chatting about how excited they were for their adventure tomorrow.

#buckys little belle #age regression fic #age regression #little!reader #bucky x reader #bucky x little!reader #bucky barnes x little!reader #bucky #cafe bignsmall #bignsmall #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes age regression #little fic

[backtotheshitshow]

Ghost Clothes Part 2 : the field.

(Wally Clark x reader)

Part1 part3 part4

Summary: after finding y/n in the locker room, Wally wants to show her around the school.

Warning: idk if there is any 🤷‍♀️

Wally lead the way down the hall, doing his best to make small talk with Y/n.

“How did I not hear about you dying. I’ve been here since the ‘80’s and I never heard of a girl dying in the locker rooms.” Wally questioned.

“I died the same week Zayn left One Direction. So a dead girl wasn’t exactly the top story of the local teens.” Y/n explained.

“Ah yes I remember that band, they were no Motley Crüe though.” Wally says, opening the door to the school office. “Ladies first”

“Thank you. Yeah, I was always more of a 5 seconds of summer girl anyway.” Y/n came to a stop at the lost property bin. Everything in there was awful, old sweaty trackpants and hoodies.

“I’ll wait outside.” Wally says, giving a quick smile before leaving.

The only decent thing y/n could find in the bin was some girls basketball shorts and an AC/DC shirt that looked older than her, well older than what she’s supposed to be. Y/n reluctantly changed out of Wally’s jacket and into the other clothes.

She emerged from the lost property room, to be greeted with a smiling Wally. “Oooh AC/DC, you know they’re in my top ten list of bands to work out to. “ the boy chuckled, taking his jacket back.

Wally felt a twinge of sadness, he longed to see her in just his jacket again. God why was he being such a perv. He just meant this girl. Y/n clears her throat, snapping Wally back to reality.

“What? Sorry did you say something” Wally rambled.

“No. you’re just stairing.” Y/n informs.

“Right, sorry. Ah should we.. I don’t know, go for a walk?” Wally suggests rubbing the back of his neck.

“That sounds nice, actually can we start outside.” Y/n asked.

“Of course, come on I’ll show you the football field.” Wally says excitedly.

…

Wally took y/n out to the field, but he couldn’t help but wonder, we’re they on a date?. Like does them going for a walk and chatting together count as a date. Eventually the two stopped at the five yard line, and took in the scenery, glazing at the moon and all the stars .

“Do you spend a lot of time out here, Wally?” Y/n questioned

“ not as much as you would think. I do like being in the library, theirs always new stuff to read in there. Sometimes I just go to the cafeteria and just watch the student, you know, see how things keep changing year after year.” Wally explains.

“You died in 84, didn’t you?”

“Ah yeah… how’d you know.” The boy asked.

“ well I remember sitting at a game one night and I saw the score board and thought. Who the fuck is this Wally Clark guy? So I googled you. But it never said how you died.”y/n says.

“Oh I was layed out in a tackle on the five yard line. Right where you’re standing actually.”

Y/n instantly took a step back, “shit sorry” she gave Wally an apologetic look.

“It’s ok, they’ve re-grassed this field so many times since then, I doubt there’d be any trace of me left.” Wally gave a light chuckle, but to y/n it seemed forced. “Anyway… here lay down.” Wally encouraged y/n lay on the field and look up at the sky.

It was quiet as they both scanned the flickering light of the night sky, until Wally turned his attention to the girl next to him. He studied her profile, the shape of her nose, how soft her lips looked under the moon light, the way her eyelashes fluttered when she would blink.

Out of the corner of her eye, Y/n noticed Wally staring, again. “You know you have a really bad staring problem, Wally.” Y/n states still looking up at the moon.

Wally immediately turns his head back to the sky. “Sorry.”

The air fell silent again, the only thing y/n could here was the sound of Wally’s soft breaths. It was her turn to stare, y/n looked at the kind boy next to her, he had been so sweet and helpful to her, and under the moon light she wondered why she hadn’t noticed how handsome he was before.

Wally turns and meets Y/n eyes. “ now who’s the one staring” they both chuckle before falling silent again, gazing at each other intently. Wally briefly glanced at the girls lips, only for a second and began to lean closer.

“Who’s that?” Both ghosts jumped apart at the sudden noise.

“Jesus, Dawn. Don’t sneak up on people like that.” Wally sighs.

“Oh I’m sorry, Wally. I just wanted to know who this lovely girl is.” Dawn apologises.

Wally sighs in annoyance “Dawn this is Y/n, Y/n this is Dawn.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Y/n says

“ you too. Did you die during practice?” Dawn asks.

“Practice?”

“Basketball practice, I just thought because of the shorts and the shirt..”

“Oh no these are from lost property, I died in the showers.” Y/n explains.

“Oh my. Well I’m sure one of the ghosts around here can sew, maybe we can make you some new clothes.” Dawn suggests.

“Really! That would be great.” Y/n smiles then looks at Wally, who seems slightly annoyed, “ you don’t mind, do you Wally?”

“No of course not, I’ve got stuff to do anyway.”

“Great” Y/n stands up and begins walking with Dawn back inside the school. “ Hey, Wally I’ll see you later ok.” Y/n shouts from the door.

Wally gives a thumbs up as the girls go inside. Laying back down on the field Wally sighs, asking himself so many questions. Why did he ever think that could of been a date? Why is he so attached to a girl he just met? What is he feeling? Is this what falling in love feels like?

…

#wally clark x reader #wally clark #school spirits #milo manheim #wally clark fanfiction #wally clark x y/n