#like it doesn’t really bother me that much but now that I know it I can’t unsee it

[luveline]

i would absolutely love a Hotch and stripper reader, him taking care of her after some kind of incident at her club or something? maybe a bit of angry hotch at the beginning, some angst? 💗💗💗

Your throat burns by the time his car pulls up. 

You take the butt of the cigarette from between your lips and ash it next to the first. Your hand is sore between the index finger and thumb from a bad stretch, aching as you press into your pocket for your stolen box of Marlboro golds. You’ll apologise for taking them some other time. 

You press the third between your lips and flick the lighter. You’re not good at lighting them, worse at the first inhale, your throat an agony that rivals the sting of your battered cheek. 

Shoes on the sidewalk, a scratch of loose gravel. Your eyes well with another line of tears that you work hard to hold in, taking another quick, cruel drag. They don’t make cigarettes long enough, in your opinion. They don’t last. 

He stops in front of you. Quiet, Agent Hotchner looks down at you where you’re sitting on the low wall, expression as steely as ever. You meet his eyes, worried your wobbly lip is giving you away, not sure calling him was the right thing to do after all. 

When he raises his hand to the cigarette you let him take it. His fingers wrap carefully around the butt of it, the side of his thumb brushing your lips. 

He flicks it to the ground and steps on it flat. 

You don’t say hello. It’s obvious you’ll cry, he can tell too, and he doesn’t make you. You wince as he raises his hand again, your eyes squinting closed, but he isn’t going to hurt you. His palm is warm where it cups your cheek, turning your face to the light emanating off of the club neons. 

“Do you know his name?” he asks. 

“No.” 

He raises your chin higher still. His frown turns to a glare, the brunt of which is directed elsewhere but intimidating all the same. His touching is gentle at least. 

“What happened?” 

“I told him no.” 

His jaw ticks. “Can I take you home?” 

You sniffle, turning your face out of his hand and down to your lap. He’s kissed you, he’s done more than that, but he knows you’d felt like you had no choice and so he’s giving it to you now. It’s exactly why you’d called him. It’s the man he is, and he should never have ended up looking after you. 

“Sorry I called you,” you say, hiding your face in one hand. Pain flickers behind your eyes as tears mount for the tenth time tonight. 

Hotch gives a sigh, sitting on the wall beside you. He wraps his arm behind your back and with a familiarity you need desperately. You press yourself into his side, sew your arm hesitantly over his stomach, the starch of a pressed shirt crisp on your clammy skin. 

“It’s cold out here,” he murmurs, bringing both hands to your arm, one to hold you tight, the other to rub your cool skin. 

“I think I want to quit.” 

He nods into the side of your head. “I think you should,” he says, “if that’s what you want… honey, you can do whatever you want.” 

“I don’t think I can. I’m trapped and it’s my fault.” 

“It’s not your fault.” He encourages your head under his, your face to his neck. When he talks, it’s a quiet, lulling promise. “You’re not trapped. I’ll do anything you need me to do. If you want an apartment, I’ll get it for you. If you want to shut this place down, I will. The last thing either of us want is for you to work here when you don’t want to.” 

“You don’t have to say work here like I’m not a glorified prostitute,” you say hotly, anger turned in rather than out. 

“You don’t really think that.”

Being a sex worker is complicated. You don’t know how you feel about it, and you can’t ever understand why Hotch would bother with you. You’d worried at first that your vulnerability is what attracted him, like a kid with a broken bird, but he’s proved a hundred times that your job is pretty much separate from why he likes you. He thinks you're pretty. He loves your voice. You make each other laugh, and somehow inexplicably he’s the first person you call when things go wrong. 

“Quit your job,” he says. “Even if it’s just to dance somewhere else.” 

“You can say strip.”

He nods. “You shouldn’t have to worry whether your ‘no’ will be met with a backhand. You know that breaks my heart?” 

You blink and pull away from him. He isn’t unemotional, but it’s a surprise nonetheless to hear him talk like this. “Aaron–” 

“Please,” he says. “I shouldn’t ask you to. But there are better places for you. You deserve more.” 

If it were anyone else you might get defensive. Only people who do your job could understand why you do it, it’s a hundred different things to you, but you do deserve more. You’re sick of leery men, sick of wolf whistles and bad tips and other people's hands. Hotch has never asked you to stop, but now he is, it’s to keep you safe. 

You can’t begrudge him. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. 

“No.” He rubs your arm. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. And I’ll make it right.” 

“It’s not your fault.” 

“I’ll make it right,” he promises. “No matter what. No one gets to hurt you.” 

You could quit. You want to. Even if it’s just for a couple of weeks, just so you don’t have to pretend you know what you’re doing. You’ll think about it in the morning. “Could I stay with you for a bit?” you whisper. “Just tonight. Please.” 

Hotch taps your back for you to stand. He stands with you, brushing down your coat, his eyes impassive where they look over your face, your purpling bruise. 

“You can wait in the car,” he says quietly. “I’m going to ask a few questions inside before we leave.” 

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

[stevenose]

body to flame (18+)

summary: steve’s insists he only needs twenty minutes to make you cum.

contains: reader with a vagina; ‘good girl’ and ‘pretty girl’ used for reader; no pronouns for reader; fingering (reader receiving); banter; bitchy!steve; sort of mean!steve but it’s all in good fun

this is hardly proofread so apologies 💔

“All I need is twenty minutes.”

You scoff and look over your shoulder at Steve, who hasn’t even bothered looking up from the tapes he’s reorganizing.

“Twenty minutes?” you repeat. “That’s not even a whole lunch break.”

“I’ve done it quicker.”

“Bullshit, Steve.”

“You’re scared, huh?” he asks.

“Of you making me cum? Yes.”

Now he scoffs, looking up at you, placing his hands on his hips. Bitchy. “You really don’t believe me?”

“I absolutely do not.”

“Huh.” He stares at you, narrows his eyes at the back of your head. “Give me a chance, won’t ya?”

“A chance?”

“Let me try it on you.”

You whip around, hurling an empty VHS box at him, which he somehow dodges in the nick of time. “No way!”

“What? Don’t wanna be proven wrong?”

“You ever think that maybe I don’t want you to touch me?”

He laughs, much to your shock.

“Steve,” you sigh. “Get a grip.”

It’s silent for a while. You go back to inputting returns and Steve moves around, replacing them. Then he comes back to the check out desk, leaning on it with his forearms. Crowds your space, makes you back up, your cheeks heating up.

“My paycheck.”

You falter. “What about it?”

“I’ll give you my entire paycheck if I can’t make you cum in twenty or less.”

Your eyes roll, but he can see right through you.

“Are you making fifteen dollars more than me an hour or something?”

“I got overtime twice last week!” he defends. “Should be a couple hundred.”

You lick your lips, eyes moving back to the computer as if you’re interested in it more than him. “And if you do? You want my paycheck?”

“When I do, then you’ll let me have another hour with you.”

“To do what? Torture me?”

Steve just smiles.

You narrow your eyes. “Where would this even happen?”

“Uh, on break?” he says, like you’re dense. “Put up a ‘be back in twenty’ sign. Or maybe I should just close up shop?”

The entire thing is so scandalous that it has your face burning up, almost suffocatingly. And he won’t stop looking at you with those dumb puppy dog eyes. A little pout tugging his lips downward.

“You’re gonna beg me?” you snark.

“Couple hundred would go a long way, wouldn’t it?”

You’re so sure you can win at this. Even if he’s good, twenty minutes isn’t that long. And that’s how you end up on his lap on the dilapidated couch in the back room, a “be back in twenty :)” sign slapped onto the front door. Your pants are off and in a heap on the floor below you, underwear still on - you made Steve swear he’d work around them.

No cock, either. “This isn’t just an excuse to get your dick wet, is it?”

Hands thrown up in surrender, he’d said, “Fine, fine. Fingers only:”

“You’re gonna be so broke,” you insist, but it’s already getting difficult. He’s hard underneath you and apparently neither of you will bring it up. Steve looks so pleased with himself, and the confidence makes your stomach flip.

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” His eyes are glinting, full of mischief. “You’re gonna be spending an hour in the Harrington Torture Chamber.”

You laugh boisterously. “And what’s that entail?”

He glares playfully, hands moving up your thighs, settling where they meet your ass. “You’ll just have to see.”

His fingers glide underneath the material, hands first grabbing your ass. You gasp a little as he kneads. “You let me know when to start.”

You twist around to look at the clock behind you. 5:37 pm. Jesus, you’re doing this before it’s even dark out. You look back at him, annoyingly handsome below you, little highlights playing in his curls.

“Now seems fine,” you finally say.

Steve looks over your shoulder. “What do you say we stop at an even six o’clock?”

“Now, Steve.”

There’s really no fanfare. He doesn’t take much time with you, moving his hands around to the front to cup your cunt over your underwear. His thumb finds your clit immediately and you let out an embarrassingly easy whine.

“Right there?” he coos. “Always been good at findin’ it.”

“Bullshit,” you breathe, resting your hands on his shoulders. “Prob- you probably just found out about the clit.”

“Y’know, you better learn to use that mouth for somethin’ a little better than insulting me.”

You’re incredibly, incredibly thankful his fingers weren’t inside of you when he said that. You clench down, pleasure coursing from your stomach to your clit while he rubs gentle circles into it.

“That shut you up,” he muses. “Like being told what to do, huh?”

“Fuck off.”

His thumb presses a little harder. Still delicious - more so, in fact. You bite your cheek hard and stare at his forehead. His eyes are too intense for you.

“Can’t even look at me,” he tsks. “This is a lot for you, huh? It’s only been two minutes.”

You’re thankful for the reminder. You push your thoughts away, starting to think of the new releases coming up, the new cash reconciliation process. But it only works for about three minutes, until Steve gets bored with your non-reaction and slips his fingers under your underwear.

“Jesus,” he moans, “you’re so wet.” He licks his lips. “This all for me? Or are you wet from when Keith came in earlier?”

“Shut up!”

“It’s gotta be one of them, huh?” he presses, rubbing bigger, stronger circles into your clit while his other fingers press into your entrance just a bit. You gasp and clench again, and Steve smirks. “It was Keith, wasn’t it? Can’t wait to tell our friends how horny you get for him.”

“Not Keith,” you pant.

“Oh, then me?”

“Shut up!”

“No way.” His middle finger rubs against your hole. “This is too easy, babe. Got twelve minutes left with you and you’re already creamin’.”

You choose to ignore him, taking deep breaths, squeezing his shoulders. When you least expect it, Steve slides his finger inside of you.

“O-oh -!”

“Feels good, doesn’t it.” Looks at you like he’s really pitying you. “I give you another two minutes.”

“Just - I - just -“ You feel insane, so hot from his attention, pleasure building wickedly fast in your lower stomach. “I need - give me a break.”

“Uh-uh,” he says, wrapping his free arm tight around you and fucking his finger nice and slow in and out of you. Your jaw clenches, squirming to get away from the pleasure, but his arm keeps you planted in place. “Didn’t say twenty minutes with breaks, did I? Not gonna let you cheat.”

Steve’s fingers working in tandem, your mind begins fogging over. You continue squirming - away from or towards him, you’re not exactly sure.

“Didn’t think you’d last this long,” he mumbles. “You’re easy, though.”

“It’s too much,” you whine. Six minutes left. He doesn’t even seem phased.

“I know,” he coos. “Overwhelming, huh? Can’t act like a big girl now, can you?”

You hate the way that’s fueled your fire. Desperate to hold on, you lean forward, burying your face in the crook of his neck. Fingernails dig into his skin through his shirt and vest and he smiles at your reaction.

“Go ahead and hide, baby, but I better see your face when you cum.”

You take a shaky breath and bite down onto his shoulder. Steve groans, fingers picking up their pace, and now you’re really, truly fucked.

You try to think of anything else. Car payment. Potholes on Main Street. Library fines. Keith.

But Steve’s whispering in your ear, saccharine, his voice a velvety deep tenor that makes your chest vibrate. “There we go, good girl. You’re gonna cum so hard for me, huh? You’re so easy. Give it up so good, don’t you? Just for a few extra bucks? Or did you really want played with? Starting to think it’s the latter, babe.”

“Steve,” you cry, thighs shaking and clenching. Steve surely has no feeling in his hand but he keeps up his work, anyway. Three minutes to go.

“Uh-huh, I know, so hard, isn’t it? Just love being fucked on my fingers so much. When I get that extra hour I’m gonna see how many you can take. You’re so tight, gonna take a whole fist to get you ready for my cock.”

You’re seriously shocked. And you’re so desperate for it that your clit tenses up, ready to burst, ready for your vision to go black and for you to moan embarrassingly loud right on Steve’s lap. You reach down for his wrist, gripping it tight, shaking your head and scrunching your face.

“Go on,” he praises, smiling wide, working just a little faster. “Cum for me, give it up, pretty girl.”

You squeal and bury your head into Steve’s shoulder again while you cum, your hips grinding against his hand, making it drip. Steve laughs, moves his arm so he’s rubbing your back instead of pinning you down. “Oh, that felt so good, didn’t it? Feels so good being bitched out on my lap, huh?”

And that’s it. You cum again. Clenching down, shouting into his skin, teeth piercing it open. Steve gasps and groans, lets you ride his hand until your hips still and you’re panting, jaw unclenching from his flesh.

“What did I tell you?” he asks, still rubbing your back. “That was two with two minutes to spare, sweetheart. Want me to put another sign up? You might be busy for a while.”

#steve harrington smut #stevenose posts #ns/fw #steve x reader #hopefully this makes sense and is hot lol

[youronlydarlin]

I know this is like short notice and you basically just posted the loser!simon Drabble but omg I need more. I’ve so far never seen a fic that lets Simon relax while you ride him or something. I’ve seen similar, but if you wouldn’t mind could you make a fic following Simon being super tired, and when he gets home you were a horny mess and then you make him a horny mess but he doesn’t have the energy to jerk it so you help him out. Fem reader please!! I really want him to use the rest of his energy to like play with your tits and then lay down.

Also you’re the only person I tolerate for the !! For smutty stuff. Usually it makes me cringe because it feels so childish. But you do it in a hot way. I think. Idk. I like the energy you put in ur writing if ykwim

warnings: fem! afab! reader, kinda subby Simon??, bro's down bad for you and thinks you're a goddess, relaxed Si :)

Wjahskshsjjs jus' somewhat lazy sex with the good ol' big british man. He's sure comes home tired and late. He has been for the past few days. It hadn't really affect you in a way that disrupted your everyday routine. But lately there's been a craving, an issue brought by your brain to your heart that lately it's been feeling... neglected. It starts as a distant feeling, an untouched part of your body that longs to be noticed. It's like chaising after a mysterious high while blinded, no sense of direction, and no chance of ever finding it. Leaving you feeling lonely and trapped, cold and empty. So, to put it simply. You're pent up. All hot and bothered and way too eager to slip your hands in your pants. Lucky for you though, your night won't end with just self satisfaction, because barging in through the door is your saviour, all tired eyes and gruff groans. Fuck. It's like you've pavlov'd yourself into getting incredibly horny at just the sight of your Si.

He on the other hand, feels like shit. Being away from you is more than enough torture, but having you pounce on him the moment he enters through the door is another new story on itself. He's neglected his baby :( his pretty girl. All quiet whimpers when you kiss him all over the neck "missed you s' much Si". Shit, he's already half chubbing in his pants at just hearing your tone. It's not long before he goes cum brained as well. Thinking with the wrong head and dry humping you in the hallway. You're squealin' n moanin' and oh shit he's going to cum. he's going to cum. he's going to cum. he's going to– You pull away. Now if it was any other day he would've shot you a glare. Maybe even disappointedly shaking his head. "Careful, love, you're playin' with fire.." he would've said, but right now he's red in the face, sweaty and desperate. Rolling his hips into nothing, hoping to get it to rub into you. Simon looks weak and he knows, slightly enjoys the power imbalance between you two because now you've grabbed him by the collar like a dog and dragged him towards the couch.

On his lap not a second later and you two are back to humping at each other through your clothes. He's tired. Limbs so heavy, bones weighed down with fatigue and he feels like he's already dreaming. You're like a wet dream that's come to life. There's just something about the way you look at him that makes it impossible to lay his eyes on anything else. Like a goddess on a thrown. That's how he sees you. Mighty and malevolent, feeling so small in your gaze but drinking it all in like a man parched, nothing can bring you down. Despite this– the tiredness of his bones– he wills his arms to move. To help you take off your top. It's intimate and it has his breath catching in his throat. He's seen you shirtless countless times before, but the thrill, the electrifying sparks it sends up his spine, it always feels new. Panting like a mutt he hasn't even noticed that he's already been let out of his pants, too busy admiring your chest. Reaching his hand out to toy with the soft peak, letting out an accidental whimper at the sudden contact of your hands with his hard cock. You shush him, remind him to relax, you can handle this, you promise with a kiss to the tip of his nose. And just like that he's sinking into the couch. Eyes closed in bliss and a handful of your mounds in his hands.

Heaven on earth. Blooming flowers in the harsh winter. Rain after months of drought. This is peace. This is pleasure. Simon's convinced that there's no earthly power greater than your hands, or your soft kisses. The gentle timbres of your voice. The way your pussy feels so hot and welcoming. So occupied and drunk off of your divinity that he hasn't had the time to prepare himself for your hot walls enveloping all of him inside. It makes his eyes shoot open and his back arch. You don't move, leaning down to put your mouth against his, swallowing every moan and whimper, and rewarding him with a teasing grind. He lays pliant soon enough, groaning at the way you bring yourself up till the tip kisses your entrance, before snapping your hips down to get him back inside. You ride him like you can't live without it. Sweet girl with an equally sweet pussy. He thought you well.

a/n: PHEW, I'm rusty as shits forgive me, I've got other stuff cooking in my drafts I swear I'm not lazy. This was kinda bad, written in two hours cause I sneaked this in between doing my papers. Hope y'all liked this, remember to always drink water n take your meds!!

Yours, truly,

–Dolly

#cod x reader #cod imagine #call of duty x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader smut #simon smut #x female reader #cod x reader smut

[balletfilmss]

BUT DADDY, I LOVE HIM!

✸ pairing: jason grace x daughter of poseidon! reader

✸ synopsis: no, you’re not coming to your senses. even if it’s your father who’s telling you to

✸ warnings: none!

✸ notes: writing’s so weird…like it took me weeks to do my last work & i cranked this out in TWENTY minutes

idea from this post by @percabething!!

“what?”

“you heard me, yn,” said your father firmly, ready for you to take your leave and quit bothering.

as if you were the issue here. you’d been minding your own damn business when he just appeared at the lakefront, disturbing your date planning.

your boyfriend would be here any minute, and here poseidon was suddenly deciding to parent. and not only to parent, but to have the audacity to try and tell you who you could and couldn’t date, trying to slam the door on your whole world.

“this doesn’t make any sense!” you protested. “jason and i have been together for months, why is it now a problem?”

“i was hoping that your little summer fling would die out, but it seems that you’re persistent with this one,” your father said.

this one? as if you’d dated more than one other boy before him.

“now, like i said, it’s time for you to stop entertaining this relationship with zeus’s boy. i know you don’t think so, but i’m looking out for you. think about what this could do to your name! end it already, yn.”

at that, he began to walk back towards the water, trampling over your beautiful picnic spread and narrowly missing crushing your basket.

you ran after him, the sides of your unbuttoned cardigan blowing in the summer breeze as you followed him into the water, willing your dress to stay dry as you cried out, “my name? i don’t care about what it could do! jason’s the one i want, dad, you can’t do this!”

poseidon stopped in his tracks, turning to you. “i am the god of the seas and your father, yn, i can do whatever it is that i please. so do enlighten me, why, may i ask, do you think i can’t do this?”

before you could even think to stop yourself, you shouted the words at him,

“because, dad, i love him!”

at the confession, something in your father’s stormy blue eyes seemed to clear up. his face softened as he looked at you for a moment, wondering how the little girl he remembered had gotten so old in such little time.

you began to grow antsy at the silence that followed your words, suddenly aware of the swishing of the lake against your calves as time seemed to still.

finally, poseidon sighed, “very well then.”

you perked up immediately, eyes bright as you squealed, “really?!”

the god nodded his head, though hesitantly and said, “yes. make sure he doesn’t make me regret it. and make sure he knows that.”

your father pointed over your shoulder, his tone suddenly shifted from how it’d been just about three minutes ago. you turned to find jason standing on the bank of the lake with colored cheeks and his hands behind his back, waiting for you to return and not wanting to interrupt your discussion with your father.

from the look on his face, he had definitely heard you.

blood rushed to your face as you realized that your first “i love you” for your boyfriend had been screamed at your father, of all people. when you turned back to your dad, he was gone with the waves.

tilting your head back as you dramatically rolled your eyes at the theatrics, you tentatively spun back round to look at jason, a sheepish smile on your face.

without missing a beat, he joined you in the water, splashing up to his ankles and sending water flying everywhere as he giddily made his way to you.

immediately upon arrival, he placed both hands on your face and pulled you in, catching your lips in a hasty kiss he’d been waiting to give you ever since he accidentally overheard your conversation.

you pressed your lips against his as your head swam as much as the creatures in the water below, winding your arms around his neck and pressing your body flush against his.

when you only separated because of lack of oxygen, neither of you strayed far.

“you heard me?” you asked with a breathe, forehead pressed against jason’s.

he was wearing what might’ve been the widest grin you’d ever seen.

“i did,” he said, pushing a tendril of hair behind your ear. “and i love you too.”

smiling hard, you pushed your lips against his once more.

#୨୧ love letters #jason grace x y/n #jason grace x you #jason grace x reader #jason grace x fem!reader #jason grace oneshot #jason grace imagine #jasongrace #jason grace #heroes of olympus x reader #heroes of olympus #hoo #hoo x you #hoo x reader #pjo #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fandom #hoo fandom

[geeks-universe]

The Fallen pt. 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Cooper Howard x F!Angel!Reader

A/N: This contains smut.

Cooper was angry.

No, he’d been angry when the shit-for-brains had the audacity to look at you like he was stripping your body bare with his eyes.

Now, he was furious.

Rage was an easy emotion, a comfortable one. For years it’d been his only companion, and slipping back into its familiar embrace felt almost natural to him.

Lucy had been too preoccupied with saying goodbye to her lover boy to see the carefully lidded fury, a snake in the grass ready to strike.

You’d noticed though.

Of course you noticed, just like you did every other damn thought that crossed his mind. Maybe you’d noticed the hundred different ways he’d imagined popping that weasel’s head off, of making you pay for the tiniest bit of himself he couldn’t let die.

When you’d proclaimed a shelter for the night- a sad little shack with three walls- Lucy had wandered off with some lame excuse of looking for supplies, the dog trotting happily along with her. Or maybe it was checking the perimeter. He didn’t care, hoped she died, really.

You set a lantern on the ground between the two of you, laying out your pack to get comfortable on the floor. Cooper didn’t bother, couldn’t sit down while the fire burned through his veins. It roared through every inch of his body, consuming him with a vexation he hadn’t felt in a long time.

That fucking roach should’ve lost his hands for touching you, for thinking himself deserving of your silky skin.

“You should rest.”

He barked a laugh- a harsh, aggravated noise wrangled from his chest.

“Ain’t as delicate as you.”

It was meant to be an insult, and fuck didn’t that just piss him off that you let it slide right off you. Unbothered, the same way you’d been the day he first met you.

The same way you’d been when that rat had scurried to you, vying for your attention.

“Coop-“

“So now you want to speak to me?” He straightened his back, standing to his full height as he glared down at your sitting figure.

It was an intimidation tactic, and he knew you well enough to know that it wouldn’t have the effect he was hoping, but it would make you privy to his frustrations.

“Seems like I’m a great choice when I’m the only one.”

Confusion furrowed your brows, quickly replaced by understanding. You let out a low sigh, eyes tracing Cooper’s figure in the dim light.

He didn’t like that you could be so calm, that you didn’t feel his wrath.

“You’re jealous.”

He snarled, angry at the insinuation- even more so that it was correct. It wasn’t just jealousy though.

You were his.

He hadn’t had something worth holding onto in a long damn time, and nobody would take what was his.

“If I was jealous everytime you opened those pretty legs for someone else, I’d never get any rest.”

Your eyes flashed- hurt, followed quickly by anger.

Good.

He wanted you angry.

Wanted you to feel the inferno in your chest, the way he did- to let it consume you in a blaze of abandon, come undone at the seams and show the person beneath.

“We’re not doing this,” you stated bluntly, still holding onto the last bit of restraint.

That wouldn’t do.

He wanted you unraveled, raw.

“Runnin’ won’t change a damn thing.”

Your hands pressed into your knees, a quick outlet of irritation before you stood up. Your eyes were still burning, but it wasn’t enough. You still had too much control.

“You’re such an ass.”

The smirk he flashed was cruel.

“‘M honest,” he argued, “and doesn’t that just piss you off?”

Your chest expanded with a deep breath, eyes unfocused as you talked yourself down. He was so close, you just needed a little push.

“Poor little dove, just wants to run away from her problems like she did her family.”

Bingo.

Faster than a blink, you were in his face, your teeth bared as you raised a fist. He took the opportunity, watching your rage swelter as he grabbed hold of your wrist and twisted it behind you.

Fuck if your rage wasn’t the most intoxicating thing- the rise and fall of your chest hypnotic, the bare of your teeth captivating. You growled, an angry, ominous noise that went straight to his cock.

Your back was pressed against his front, moving with the rhythm of your erratic breathing, teasing friction exactly where he wanted you. His fingers pressed into your wrist harder, his mouth dangerously close to your ear. You weren’t fighting his hold- waiting, listening.

“Maybe that’s why your daddy left you too.”

Your eyes seemed to glow with an inner fire as you tried to pull your hand from him. He held fast though, put every ounce of his strength into restraining you. You lashed out like a wild animal, movements irrational and erratic. Finally, when it was clear you wouldn’t get free, you spit at him.

“Fuck you.”

It was the most vulgar he’d ever heard you, his wrath mixing with desire. Warmth seeped into his cheek where your spit had landed, and in a quick kick of his legs, he dropped you to your knees hard.

And wasn’t that a damn sight.

“If that sweet mouth wants to be filthy so bad, why don’t we put it to good use.”

He talked slow, controlled, as he grabbed your hair, pulling your head back. Wild eyes traced the arch of your back, the smooth column of your exposed neck.

He wanted to take a bite.

Your eyes were burning into his, an anger he’d never seen before from you shining through. You looked like you hated him, like you’d burn him on the spot.

“Now, sweetheart, try not to use your teeth.”

He clicked open his belt buckle, positioning himself just enough to free his hardened length. He’d dreamt of this moment, had pleasured himself to the thought of you more than he could count. The realization that it was coming to fruition had him so hard it fucking hurt. He took pride at the hunger in your gaze, your mouth still twisted in a scowl.

“Don’t act all innocent now.”

Almost as if it were a challenge, spurred on by your temper, your hot mouth took his entire length in one quick movement and-

Holy fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You were impossibly warm, your tongue sliding the length of his cock while your eyes, the ones he’d spent so long admiring, stared into his own. You held his gaze, refused to look away as you hollowed your cheeks, daring him to keep going.

He didn’t disappoint, wrapping his hand around your hair just like he’d done with his lasso. Sturdy hands forced you to take him to the base of his cock, before pulling back out. He thrusted back in hard, unconcerned with the tears that gathered in your eyes as he slammed into your throat.

You were defiant in the way you took him, forcing a harsher pace than the one he’d set.

This had to have been heaven. Nothing on Earth could possibly feel this fucking good. His thrusts were feral, unrelenting, and you were meeting them with ferocity, your pretty lips wrapped so perfectly around his cock.

“Takin’ me so good,” he groaned, his abdomen spasming. The sound of your gags filled the air, tearing through any restraint he might’ve had.

It’d been a while since he’d felt any sort of pleasure, even longer since it’d been anything more than a quick fuck.

This, though…

This was a whole different beast.

Fuck.

He wiped at the saliva coating his cheek, staring into your eyes as he slid his fingers into his mouth, tasting your sweetness.

You moaned, and he was sure this had to be a dream.

Reality had never been this nice.

“My filthy girl.”

Another moan, and this one almost dropped him to his knees. Pleasure tingled up his spine, down to the tips of his fingers and the bottom of his toes. His body was practically vibrating, begging him for release.

He didn’t want it yet, wanted this moment to last an eternity. His cock was pounding into your mouth, your fingernails digging into his thighs- sweet pain mixed with hot pleasure.

Please, his body sung, begging for a release he desperately fought against.

His pace was brutal, chasing the high he both wanted more than anything, and wished would never come.

It wasn’t enough.

This wasn’t enough.

He needed more.

Needed all of you.

“You are mine.”

He emphasized on a growl, savoring the taste of you that still lingered on his tongue.

He was desperate for more, for every damn piece of yourself you’d give him. It’d never be enough, not enough time in the universe to get the fill of you he wanted- needed.

He was close now, only holding on by sheer will, and all it took was a tilt of your head and a long, low moan of what he only prayed was his name around his length.

Like a band, his restraint snapped, his hips surging forward as he grunted your name.

Fuck.

Fuck, his body was singing.

Fuck. Curses, unbidden, were falling from his lips. Pleas, praises, worships- fuck it all he couldn’t even tell anymore, blinded by the feel of your mouth.

It was hot, so hot, and you swallowed every drop he gave you, his sensitive cock was twitching, his knees trembling with the effort to stay on his feet.

You kept going though, pulling your lips back just far enough to lick his length clean, your eyes still so full of fire, the same fire racing through his body.

It was so much, too much almost, and yet he gave into the torturous pleasure, desperate for you, for whatever you’d give him.

His hat had fallen off his head when he threw it back, his legs shaking as you finally pulled away- and despite the overstimulation, his body still chased your mouth, not ready to feel the empty, consuming void left in your wake.

A breath.

A moment to consider what he’d done, what he’d said to you. It wasn’t anger in your eyes- not regret, either. He couldn't read it, couldn't grasp what you were feeling.

His heart pounded against his chest, exhausted arms releasing your hair as he slowly, cautiously, raised his fingers to your cheeks. Tears had fallen from how far he’d thrust himself into you. He wiped them away, let them press into the fabric of his gloves, as the air grew thick.

It was a soft moment, a gentle one, and he didn’t want to be the first to pull away.

So you did.

You got your feet and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, your jaw flexing as you looked like you hadn’t just sucked him fucking dry.

He tucked himself back in his pants and secured his belt, waiting for you to speak. It was a tense moment, drawn longer by the way you wet your lips, like you wanted to talk but couldn’t quite form the words.

“Oh, fudge, are you two okay?”

His finger itched with the desire to end the vaultie for interrupting this, for causing you to cast a worried glance in her direction before your damn walls were thrown back up. Whatever you’d been about to say, you definitely wouldn’t now.

“Just peachy,” you smiled, one that screamed inauthenticity as you took a step to face away from Lucy.

“Think I need some air though, I’ll be back in a bit.”

It was a dismissal if he ever heard one, and the vault dweller had the good sense not to try and follow.

“Your hat’s on the ground, there.”

She went to pick it up for him, but he swooped down before she had the chance and deposited it on his head. On a good day he didn’t have the patience for her, but right now he was feeling downright venomous.

“So-“

“Leave it.”

His words were final, tone brokering no argument. That was the only bit of grace he’d give her- one more word and his reply would be a bullet. She understood, could see the tension in his stance and gave him the space he desired.

But it wasn’t space he wanted.

It was you.

It was your voice, so gentle and melodic.

It was your touch, sweet and resolute- full of heat, of passion, of something that resembled life.

Instead, he got the cold, hard ground and a head full of vicious thoughts. Why did you plague his thoughts the way you did? Why did you make him feel so fucking human?

He didn’t want to.

Didn’t want that, any of it.

Not the fucking feelings, not the guilt, not the stupid fucking spark of hope in his cold, dead heart.

Let Cooper Howard die.

But it wasn’t that simple.

All of the anger in the world couldn’t turn his affection for you to hatred. It was a stubborn thing, and a solid one. No amount of pressure could bend it. He’d just learned to live with it- a deficiency he’d carry for the rest of his miserable time on Earth.

He fell to the ground there, not bothering with getting comfortable, almost like it was a punishment. Truth be told, he didn’t have the fight in his veins anymore, didn’t wish to have to struggle to get comfortable.

He was ready to lie down and accept what he earned.

His eyes slipped shut, and though the vault dweller fell into a light sleep easily, he could not. His mind simply wouldn’t stop, kept replaying that look in your eyes.

What did it mean?

Did you hate him?

He wouldn’t blame you, could never fault you for hating the monstrous thing he’d become. He’d bet you’d have fallen in love with him before- Cooper Howard, the gentleman.

That was the kind of thing you deserved, the kind of life he’d dreamt about with you.

He’d love you in those dreams, so unconditionally and flawlessly, with no restraint or regret. He’d praised the ground you walked on, and would cherish every moment he had with you.

Not now.

He couldn’t love that way, not anymore- didn’t want to, didn’t remember how, if he were honest.

There was a quiet, tempered crunch of sand, a boot moving slowly towards him.

He knew those steps though, knew that it was you who approached him. He kept his eyes shut, curious as to what your intent was.

If you killed him, so be it.

“Cooper,” you breathed.

It was a prayer, an admission, and a promise. He didn’t reply, didn’t even crack open an eye, just listened with all the ravenous hunger of a starving man, hoping you would say more.

You didn’t.

A shadow casted from behind his lids as you knelt down, reminiscent of earlier, but of your own volition. This wasn’t with rage, with an animalistic hunger.

This was with compassion, with something that resembled fondness.

A soft exhale left your parted lips, and if he imagined hard enough, he could see the expression you wore. It was kind, open- something he rarely saw anymore.

A weight settled on his chest then, your head pressed snug against the tattered shirt he wore. An arm wrapped around his middle, holding him close to your warmth. The words you spoke in then sounded lyrical, more natural than anything you’d ever said before.

He didn’t know the meaning, wasn’t even sure what language it was- but a heat emanated from the feather he’d tucked into his chest pocket, and he understood that it was you sharing a piece of yourself.

He listened to the beating of his own heart, the slowing of your breaths, as he felt a peace wash over himself that he thought was long gone.

There, in the dim glow of a worn lantern, with the most beautiful soul he’d ever had the pleasure of meeting tucked into his side, Cooper Howard emerged- the man he was- if only for a moment.

Tags: @lacontroller1991 @giggle-shade

#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #cooper howard insert #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #fallout x reader #fallout reader insert #cooper howard imagine #the ghoul imagine #fallout imagine

[mrsparrasblog]

The selection pt.1

Unable to feel emotions, a deadly weapon, unable to empathize with the enemy, a calculated killer. It was as if you were listening to a presentation about yourself. So this was your new place now, musty, dirty, and you needed to work with men. Unbelievable. You were so much better alone, so why send you with a team? But order is order.

Your new boss was like every other boss you had in the past fourteen years: white, old, and unable to protect himself. He relied on you, didn’t trust his allies, closest friends, and sometimes not even himself. But it was easy to trust a mindless creation, someone who shouldn’t be able to feel or think—at least that's what he says. Did he really think you hadn’t got a voice in your head? You had it—it wasn’t always there, but it was sometimes. You weren’t dumb.

"Welcome to the Team," Price said, extending his hand to you. Shepard introduced you to him and his team of barbaric monkeys. You didn’t bother to shake his hand; you hated fake niceties. Was he your boss too? You hoped not. There were already enough useless men in charge of you.

"Shake your superior's hand," he grunted out, not amused by your behavior. Superior—only more men in power. How usual. You ignored him, only rolling your eyes and looking at Shepard, your real boss. If he said shake this man's hand, you do; if not, you don’t.

"John, she doesn’t work with ranks," Shepard tried to explain. I’m an assassin, not a soldier, you thought. Soldiers weren’t something you were particularly fond of, nor were your teachers. Well, if you don’t count him, but that’s not important right now anyway.

"Well, bad for her. I don’t need someone on my team who can't show me a tad of respect," he snorted, glaring at you like he wanted to kill you—sweet, you thought, how naive he was. He really didn’t know what you were capable of.

"There is no discussion. She is on the team as long as I need her, understood?"

"Understood, General."

The boss left, telling you to try to listen to John but always listen to him first. Reasonable. You’d heard weirder requests.

"So, we're stuck with her now," the boy called Gaz, what a stupid name, asked.

"Yes."

"At least you aren’t hard on the eyes, lass," Soap joked. The man with the stupid name and the worst haircut chuckled while his hand touched your shoulder in an attempt to tease you and soften the tension between you and the new team.

By instinct, your hand grabbed his, putting it in a position where it would be so easy to break his hand. "Прикоснись ко мне снова, и я убью тебя!" you hissed, and the men only looked stupidly at you.

"Ah, she just doesn’t understand English, poor lass."

"I understand English perfectly fine. I said if you touch me again, I’m going to kill you!" The monotonous look in your eyes sent shivers down Soap's spine. He knew you weren’t playing; crazy, that’s what you were to him, and you didn’t mind, as long as he didn’t touch you again.

"Okay, why don’t we all calm down?"

"Great, Cap."

"Tell us your callsign or something about you," the older man said, and you asked yourself what would happen if you just stood up and left. But the mission was more important than your ego or annoyance for all of them. Well, except the ridiculous masked man; at least he knew how to keep his mouth shut.

"Love, 19," was all you said. The truth was, you didn’t remember your name anymore. It was all gone, buried deep between all the sessions you needed to endure until the final selection. You knew that you were called 0694 most of your life, until the accident which made them call you Love.

"You don’t seem like someone with the callsign 'Love,' more like Medusa."

"Gaz, stop!" the old man scolded. You could see the wrinkles on his face. He was at least 40, you thought. Was he more like Shepard, or Durinov? Well, he wasn’t a good guy, that's what you knew about him. But who is a good guy after all?

"Okay, Love, the Lieutenant will show you your room."

"Хорошо" You bark at him, getting ready to follow the Ghost masked guy to your new room.

"Speak English, Love."

"Fine, Captain," you scoffed at him. You were sure you wouldn’t like it here. Why couldn’t a better boss get you someone who just gave you orders? You were good at following orders: Kill him—done, torture him—done, make him pay—easy. Just this American sitcom family situation was too nauseating for you. Your thoughts went away to the prospect of skinning some of them alive, but not allowed.

You walked with Ghost to your new place. He was taller than you and bulkier, but that didn’t mean he was stronger. You fought a lot against guys like him—brutes—and they always lost. Strength isn’t enough without a brain, but he seemed smarter than the other ones; he didn’t talk, and you could appreciate that.

"This is it," he gestured to a single room with white walls and a twin-sized bed in the middle. It was one of the better places you’d slept in, if you forget Budapest, Moscow, and Prague. Stupid girl, you thought to yourself. Don’t dwell on your memories; they're gone, gone, gone.

"Okay."

"You don’t talk much," he observed.

You only nodded firmly, not bothering to use your lips to form words.

"Good," he said before walking away.

You threw your bag into the corner. You didn’t have much besides your uniform, weapons, and that washed-out picture of him, which you should have thrown out a long time ago. But it's like a warning for you, you thought. Maybe it was indeed sentiment, which you wouldn’t admit—not after that day.

In search of the training room, you walked past the meeting room where the men still sat as if time stood still.

"Shouldn’t the TF 141 have just four of us, Cap?" the man with the cap asked. If you remembered right, he was called Gaz or something like that.

"Shepard only approved of this task force if she would join, so it's off the table."

"She is crazy," Mohawk guy stated.

"Maybe so, but she's great in the field."

"How do you know, Ghost?"

"Met her in Lisbon four years ago, but as an enemy."

"Four years ago, she was 15."

"Indeed."

"This can't be true."

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

Lisbon, March 2018

The storm howled through the gloomy streets of Lisbon. It was one of your first solo missions: just kill the target and finish. Nothing special, but lying on the rooftop with your sniper gun was more uncomfortable than you had originally imagined. Of course, you were used to discomfort, but the missions were always your safe space. Sleeping outside was easy—safer than there.

But now you were soaked through to your underwear, and the damn target was taking his sweet time. You were trained to lie here on the rooftop for several days, and you won't mess up your first mission; it all factors into the evaluation. And you already messed up that hard. You needed to improve before the grand selection.

Footsteps echoed behind you. You had the choice to turn around and fight off the intruder or to keep focusing on your mission. If he caught you turning around, you would fail, and you really didn’t need this. You decided to foolishly turn around, aiming your gun at him. He was tall, bulky, with blonde hair and several scars on his face—a soldier. Probably, your survival rate was around 75%.

Of course, he pointed his gun at you too, making this even more annoying than it already was. “Who are you, and what are you doing here?” He had a British accent, probably SAS, judging by his uniform.

“I’m a NATO soldier just keeping watch. No one shoots the governor,” you tried hard to speak with an American accent, maybe he was a brute and not a brain. The uniform you wore didn’t have any flags, atypical for NATO.

“Don’t bullshit me, tell me the truth before I put a hole through your head,” he barked at you, at least only half an idiot, you guessed.

“Bold of you to assume that I won’t put a hole through your head first.”

“As if you were able, little girl.” Before you could form a cocky remark, you already had a bullet in your shoulder. He thought you would leave your position because of the bullet, but you stayed put; you needed to finish the mission. He hunched over to you, turning you around while drawing his knife out.

“Блядь, неужели ты не можешь просто позволить мне быть,” you cursed under your breath, drawing your knife too, standing up without a hint of pain in your eyes, making him wonder how this was possible.

“NATO, huh?”

He tried to bring you down with his pure brute strength, but as always, he forgot that strength isn’t everything. “You shouldn’t have such a bad stance,” you smirked before he could defend his technique; you already put a knife inside his hip.

The big, incapable soldier winced on the ground as if a knife wound hurt that bad. Before he could reach for something, you were already on your way to your rope, grabbing it to jump from the rooftop.

“By the way, never disturb my work again, сука,” and with that, you shot him in the shoulder, eye for an eye, and jumped from the rooftop.

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

"That's how the governor died?" Price asked, and Ghost only nodded. It wasn't one of his proudest moments; he would have won if he hadn’t been so unfocused. Since then, his missions were always about constant focus and never underestimating an enemy.

“She is a terrorist, we don’t work with terrorists,”

“Have fun fighting me, you lose, short man—all of you will lose,” you said, showing yourself from the corner where you had been hiding. They needed to tolerate you for their silly little task force.

#cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #call of duty #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #captain john price #ghost cod #ghost #ghost headcanons #ghost fanfiction #ghost fanfic #ghost call of duty

[satan-plundered-our-oceans]

I saw your bakugou with sibling reader! I loved it and would like to ask for a continuation

Maybe when the reader gets their quirk? And how would the family and others react if it does turn out to be more powerful than his

★。／ plus ultra: echo burst! ＼。★

pairing: bakugo x gn!sibling!reader (part two!)

(here's a link to part one if you haven't read it yet!)

fandom: boku no hero academia

word count: 5.4k

tw: none! purely some platonic, wholesome fluff. of course, a bit of cussing from bakugo, and some canon typical violence, unedited because i’m too tired for that-  (very little violence, only implied/mentioned, little baby y/n bakugo doesn’t need that–)

notes: this is my first fic sequel! on my old blog, i had a sequel planned out and requested of bakugo’s sibling ending up quirkless, so if anyone wants to see a secondary sequel about a quirkless!sibling as well, let me know! but of course, they/them pronouns for little sibling bakugo, and please enjoy! thank you again for requesting this fic anon!

! be sure to like and reblog if you enjoyed !

‘don’t touch that y/n.’

katsuki bakugo reluctantly holds onto the tiny, chubby hand of his little sibling, dragging them haphazardly through a crowded market aisle. despite being late to your appointment at the doctor, you had begged him to take you to get ice cream afterwards. your appointment had gone well, and mitsuki had demanded he do anything you wanted today.

he decides to let you loose in a merchandise store just off the side of the street. it’s the same one where you had gotten your all might onesie, and your favourite lunch boxes. he wouldn’t be surprised if it was the same place deku got all his merch too.

looking around at the merch, he can’t help but think of your appointment, though it hadn’t really bothered him at all before now.

things were great. your joints in your little toe showed you would get your quirk at some point, it would develop, which would no doubt relieve his mother - she had long ago begun doubting whether you would end up quirkless, and the idea had concerned her until she had almost driven herself mad. but, according to him, you were fine. a quirk would come to you eventually, it just had to develop, and he told bakugo that things would be fine with a hearty smile on his round face.

it had made him think - he would only admit that it was briefly - what it would be. your quirk. would it be explosive like his own or would it be defensive or weaker? despite thinking of this too, he didn’t really have the heart - and he had one, deep down, for you - to think of his sibling any differently.

‘katsuki!’ you come running up to him, a round bandaid on your bare arm from the blood test you undertook. you cried a little, but toughed it up, your eyes still slightly red. in your arms is a soft midnight plush, and you hold it out to him with the biggest grin he’s probably ever seen. ‘can i get a midnight?’

he looks at it for a moment. he doesn’t even bother asking how much it might be before he deflates at the doe-eyed look you give your big brother. you walk him to the counter and hold his hand while he pays for your new plushee. one you definitely didn’t need.

with midnight plush in hand, you let him lead you out of the store.

bakugo isn’t stupid, he knows the city isn’t safe when it gets darker. he knows that villains lie on almost every corner, and that he can’t always predict when or where they might strike. he had let you drag him anywhere, and stupidly he followed. because what kind of brother would he be if he denied you? that’s how he ends up halfway across the city and carrying you home while you doze off on his shoulder. your midnight plush pressed tightly between your backs. but something passes overhead, a dark shape in the sky. a shop alarm rings out through the blackness of the street. the night lights flicker on. 

it’ll only take him about fifteen minutes to get you home. but even he can feel the slightest thrill of fear that sets in. a prickling on his skin. 

then a bin in the alley rattles and knocks over. from the quick flash he can see, it’s not one of the villains he’s seen before, or at least no one important enough to remember. his grip tightens around your legs, hoisting you higher on his back before he continues his walk home, his steps quickening despite himself.

your head lolls on his shoulder, your face pressed into his shirt.

‘kat? what’s wrong?’ he doesn’t answer you, only slides you onto the concrete quickly and hides you behind an alcove in the storefront. he makes sure you’re hidden by the foliage hanging overhead. ‘katsuki?’

‘stay here, ok?’ he tells you quietly, ruffling your hair a little bit to calm the panicked glaze in your eyes. it doesn’t work. his parents were always better at this stuff. ‘don’t make a sound.’

you’ve watched katsuki fight before. you’ve seen villain attacks that he got caught up with on the news, as a u.a student it’s almost expected. but this is different. you had never seen it in person. never felt the heat radiating off his explosions, seen the buildings behind this villain crumble on impact, never felt the ringing of your ears when it finally bursts. no, this is different. katsuki has only been hit once or twice, dodging the villains knives that seem to almost miraculously float around him, flying in any direction he pleases. it scares you, just how close it feels now. you don’t think you like it very much at all.

but then katsuki dodges one of those flying knives, and on his cheek a shallow wound oozes a trickle of blood. he wipes it away nonchalantly, like this happens all the time. you had never seen something like this, he was always patched up by the time he came home to see you. but this is terrifying. 

without a thought, you leap forward from the alcove, little legs pounding the pavement as you plant yourself in the space between katsuki and the villain. your little arms outstretched to protect your brother, your midnight plush clutched in your fists. fat tears roll down your round cheeks and your lip trembles.  the villain laughs at you, you think. and katsuki yells at you to reach cover again. maybe he barks out some threat, hoping it would scare you enough to run away. but it doesn’t. instead, you let yourself be curled into his arms and you hold midnight like a beacon. your crying erupts into earth-shattering screams.

a shockwave bursts from your fingers, the force pulsating in your skin and travelling up your arms. it hurts a little bit, makes your arms shake. your knees feel weak as you hold it, the bubble growing until it pins the villain against the alley wall. it crumbles under his weight, pushing his form against the brick. even if you wanted to you wouldn’t be able to let it go. 

‘y/n, it’s okay, it’s okay,’ katsuki soothes with a hand on your head, shielding your gaze from the villain as he finally falls limp to the floor. not quite dead, not yet at least. ‘let’s go home, yeah?’

you nod up at him, and the shockwave droops, it fades, becoming a small bubble around you and your brother, encasing you in safety as you play with the tips of midnight’s hair. 

katsuki doesn’t quite understand it immediately, but it clicks for him as he reaches the front step of your home, looking down at your sleeping form cradled in his arms, he realises just how powerful your quirk could be. your cheeks are red and splotchy from your crying before, and yet you look almost peaceful.

he moves aside your hair, and looks down at your face.

despite knowing you would always be an amazing hero, now he knew for sure. now he could probably brag that his little sibling was going to surpass even all might. 

maybe, he wouldn’t mind you surpassing him either, if you kept smiling like you had.

#bnha #mha #bnha fluff #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #fanfic #bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #platonic love #platonic #siblings #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha imagines #midoriya izuku x reader #denki kaminari #denki #kirishima #hero #iida tenya #uraraka ochacho #detroit smash #gender neutral reader #sibling reader #x sibling reader #wholesome #fluff

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Cancelled

Jake Lockley x GN!Reader • Rating: T •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist• ko-fi •

Summary: Your plans change.

🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜

A/N: Sat on a few of these fics for ages because I'm overthinking them, but thought 'ahhh, I need to post them now in time for the event!' Having a deadline is very helpful.

Warnings: Reader experiencing some sensory issues, Jake reading smutty books, overuse of italics, typos, not beta read, rail-road sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 801

Your phone buzzes on the bed. The drone is muffled slightly by the pillow it’s under. You finish fixing your outfit in the mirror and sigh. 

The material was ever so slightly wrong today. Normally it was fine, but now the feel of it just irritated you. But this was the seventh outfit you’d tried on and honestly if you were going to make it to the restaurant by 8pm, even with Jake’s ingenious driving, you had to leave now. 

You pick up your phone, glancing at the screen as you unlock it. 

One message. 

From one of your friends you were meeting up with. Probably something along the lines of ‘see everyone soon’. Usually you were excited to see them. They were some of your oldest and dearest friends, and you loved their company. But today it just felt off. Getting dressed up and going out. Eating at a semi expensive (for your budget anyway) restaurant that you didn’t even like that much. Putting on your ‘social interaction face’. It all just seems far too exhausting. 

Your eyes widened as you read the messages on the group chat. 

‘Can’t make it, stupid traffic at the tunnel! Been stuck for 50 mins and haven’t moved!’

‘I can’t either, babysitter fell through!’

‘So sorry everyone, maybe it’s for the best, I’ve got a horrible headache and was gonna power through, but maybe it’s best if we reschedule?’

The last message had you at-ted. 

‘It’s that okay with you? Sorry you let you down! <3’

Relief floods your veins and you hastily type a, ‘no worries, let’s reschedule’, adding several happy face emojis out of paranoia that your message could be misread, before you wish everyone well and to have a good evening. 

Jake hears you throw your bedroom door open, but doesn’t glance up from where he’s slouched over your armchair reading. It’s one of those bodice-ripping paperbacks from the 80s with the fabulously illustrated covers. Jake’s guilty pleasure. While he knows that Marc and Steven wouldn’t care, and most likely wouldn’t be bothered at all by his reading choices, he also very much does not want them to know. A feeling he’s sure he should try to unpack at some point. 

But that was a future Jake task. 

Which is why he’d taken to either hiding them behind the cistern in Steven’s flat or keeping them at yours, tucked neatly on your bookshelf (with your permission) behind a row of your books. 

“You ready to go amor?” He asked as he turned the page. 

You bounded over to him, ripping your stupid, itchy top off in the process. “Excellent news!” You stopped in front of him, smacking your hands onto the armchair for emphasis. 

Jake didn’t even flinch, half absorbed in his book and half used to your dramatic flare.

“Oh?” He glanced up at you and paused, a small frown of interest crossing his face. “You don’t have a top on.” 

“Exceptional observation skills Lockey.” 

He smirks. 

“Guess what?” 

“You’re embracing a new life as a nudist?” 

“The meal’s cancelled.” 

“What?” 

“The meal’s cancelled. You know cancelled, as in not happening.” You grin.

He gives you a playful look and swats your upper arm softly with his book. (His middle finger pressed inside to keep his page.) “I know what cancelled means, why?”

“Traffic, no babysitter, and headache.” You list the reasons as you count them on your hand excitedly. 

He smiles. “Really weren’t feeling it today were you?”

“How could you tell?” You say playfully. 

“Well, you kicking the door open to tell me was a good give away.”

You laugh.

“Plus, you really were leaving it pretty fine to get there on time.” He slips his bookmark between the pages and puts the book down on the floor before inching forward, he wraps his arms around your waist and gently pulls you into his lap, giving you plenty of time to step back if you wanted to. “I know how much being late makes you anxious.” 

You snuggle up to him, wrapping your own arms around his shoulders and kissing his cheek. His day old stubble rubs against your skin. But this sensation is comforting. Like home. 

“So you letting it get to this time without us going, or without you telling me off for reading instead of putting my shoes on.” 

“I don’t tell you off.” You grumble, your words muffled by how your mouth is pressed against his neck. 

Jake laughs. “Playfully.”

You tut affectionately. “Alright, playfully.” You adjust your position on his lap, getting comfortable. 

“So, what do you want to do tonight?” He presses a light kiss to your temple.

“Hmm, how about… pizza and you can read some of your smutty book to me?” 

He laughs again and kisses your lips. “Sounds good.” 

____________________________________________

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh @romanarose @strangerhands @saturn-rings-writes @lonelyisamyw-0love @queerponcho @steven-grants-world  @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie @silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin @apesarecuul @reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom @alwaysmicado @mangoslushcrush @marc-spectorr @soft-girl-musings  @spxctorsslxt @novarosewood

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#jake lockley #moon knight #moon knight mcu #jake lockley x reader #x reader #jake lockley x you #x you #jake lockley x gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #jake lockley x gn!reader #x gn!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

[lostinvasileios]

Hi! I’m sorry if my question seems to be silly, but I really was wondering.

Have you ever saw and/or heard you deities? How do you do that? I’ve never experienced something like that, but I see people sharing this sort of experience. Like… they can describe appearance, voice etc of their deities. How? I fully rely on my gut in my journey, but I do wish to see, hear and know my deities in face. So, if my question doesn’t bother you, could you share your experience and tips, please?

Thank you!

Hello there, lovely!! Your question isn't silly at all, don't worry. Thanks for asking. 🤍🌼

I indeed have! I've seen/felt and heard my deities before. And, the process to be able to do this is different for everyone.

But, for me, it took countless hours of meditation with them, I was spending so much time focusing on my already existing abilities. Like my active imagination, my sense of visualization that came from that, and so on and so forth which would eventually allow me to begin to see my beloved deities. Being able to recognize their energy soon led me to being able to comprehend their voices and feel their touches. Then that got me into the process of being able to see them.

Gut feelings are actually one of the ways you can get to learn your deities appearance as well. You could try and picture them from whatever comes to mind. A pop culture artwork of them, maybe a livened version of their statue, someone pretty on Pinterest with a few extra features, ect. Deity appearances are very fluid, and can change depending on any factor, so there's no pressure on finding out what they "exactly" look like. Because, they have no exact look. Just take whatever feels best for you. That's what it will come down to most of the time, anyway. What resonates. Like always, lol.

Actually, for about 6 months of being able to see them at first, I couldn't register their voices outside of when they would speak. If that makes sense, lol. Like, I'd understand it when they'd talk to me, but when they weren't speaking, I couldn't recall their voice, just what they had said. Sometimes, their appearance will do the same. You'll see it in the moment, you'll feel or hear them in the moment, then whenever that interaction/meditation ends - so does the...sensation? of them. You know?

For some part of my time with Apollon at first, I'd simply spend my time scrolling through Pinterest for pictures that reminded me of him. I kept them in a sort of e-altar board for him so I could go back and refresh my mind if I was having trouble seeing him in my imagination. Since, sometimes, it helps to simply - daydream of their appearances. At least for me. Getting more used to their eye colors, their body languages, imagine them speaking to you every now and then to try and have their voice be easier to comprehend, stuff like that.

Don't rush it, I can almost guarantee that you'll see and sense your deities in these ways eventually. However, they know what's best in the end. Seeing deities, feeling them, hearing them, ect - can be quite the energy drainer because of how high frequency they are and whatnot. Even if they lower themselves to some extreme degrees to be able to show themselves to us in these ways. So, if you aren't experiencing it just yet, that's probably because you aren't ready for it. Comprehending deities is a difficult task for anyone at first, and can be a persistent struggle even over months. And that's perfectly fine. Because these are celestial beings of the stars and all that other universe-y stuff, we as humans are conditioned not to believe these astral realm things because of how unlimited it all is. Of how... Ironically unbelievable the experience is.

So, even when you're sensing them, your brain will be like "mm...no" most of the time when you're first getting the hang of it. Out of the want to protect you and whatnot.

Deities will 9/10 times try their darndest to help you comprehend them by coming in appearances of like... TV characters, like I've heard some people see Loki as the Loki from the marvel series. Or, how you see book characters. There's been a few times where Aphroditus has appeared to me as a fanart of Lucien from ACOTAR that I loved and made the way I see him whenever he's present in the book. Their voices just the same. They might sound like a singer you very much enjoy, or like a comfort character of yours. I could go on, but I think you get the point, haha.

I saw Apollon as the Apollo from Blood of Zeus without ever having watched or have had heard of it, I only noticed he was taking that form after I looked up his name on Pinterest, and I just went with it. Same with Dionysus. Point is, let them show themselves to you however your brain allows them. I put so much tremendous pressure on myself to perfectly memorize how my higher self looked or how my deities looked, just to be reminded how their forms are infinite. How - they don't want you to stress over that.

They don't want you to feel less because you cannot experience them in the way another devotee can, because that's them, this is you. And they love you. And they'll meet you where you're at to help you progress and grow.

My motto for this? It'll happen when it happens, and when it does - I know they'll be refreshingly, ravishingly beautiful.

I never liked surprises, but, hey. When your deity pops out with a new look entirely and it takes the breath out of you to see it - you get more accustomed to it over time, haha.

Sorry if I dragged this on, I love questions like these lol. I hope it helped!! Blessed be. 💛🤍💛

#witchcraft #deities #deity work #witch advice #deity witch #helpol #hellenic deities #hellenic polytheism #deity #deity advice #hellenic worship #deity worship #deity witchcraft #deity sensing #clairsenses #mother witch advice

[noctumbra]

𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙟𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙮 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙩 𝙣𝙤𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮

summary: kiyoomi was not a jealous person until miya atsumu waltzed into his life.

pairing: sakusa kiyoomi x miya atsumu (sakuatsu)

warnings: s*mut, bl*wj*bs, kissing, flirting, jealous kiyoomi, power bottom kiyoomi, atsumu is a service top change my mind

a/n: it's been so goddamn fucking long since i posted my writing (or wrote anything, really). but lately i'm on my sakuatsu brainrot era and i just HAD to, okay. i hope i'm still able to connect sentences well, and if i'm not and this sucks, i'm sorry. lol. hope you like it! please don't forget to reblog and leave comments! thank you <333 (pls let me know if you know the artist so that i can give them the credit i couldn't find one)

Normally, Kiyoomi is not a jealous person. 

He knew that his partner would be faithful to him, no matter what, and that the trust they have for each other was what mattered the most. So, the jealousy was technically a foreign feeling for him. 

Until he saw a brunet man hitting on Atsumu, offering him drinks while throwing him sly looks under his eyelashes and giving him sweet smiles. 

The man was a good-looking one, Kiyoomi would admit that without feeling inferior. His brunet hair was slightly short on the sides, styled nicely with a touch of natural tousled look. His face was a handsome, but a little too much on the too-pretty-to-be-only-handsome category: Plush lips, pink-ish red from licking and biting, straight nose with a septum piercing, cat-like eyes in the color of sky blue and thick yet nicely shaped brows. He was a looker, and he knew it. 

Currently, the man was trying to crawl closer to Atsumu, trying to touch their knees or thighs, while offering Atsumu another drink. Meanwhile, Atsumu was all chatty, smiley and happy. Accepting drinks with a big, friendly smile on his face, very unaware of the fact that the guy next to him was hitting on him to the fullest. 

Yet, Kiyoomi did not react. He did not need to because he knew Atsumu was loyal to him and only him. Even though he had this feeling of something burning in him, an urge to snatch Atsumu away from that man, Kiyoomi did nothing and stayed put. He kept sipping his fruity cocktail while fiddling with its umbrella. He was kind of glad that Rin and Osamu were bickering in his ear. 

“How many times do I have to tell ya, I dunno, Rin,” Osamu complained and tried to push Rin off his seat. Not even budging, Rin grinned at Osamu and stuck his tongue out to him. Kiyoomi rolled his eyes. He was surrounded by children all day, every day, and it was surprising that he was still alive. 

“By the way,” Rin started. His green, attentive eyes moved to Atsumu and took in the sight of him being hit on, and then moved back to Kiyoomi, narrowed questioningly. “Doesn’t it bother you?” 

Kiyoomi raised a brow at the question and sipped his drink. “No?” Rin rolled his eyes. He shrugged. “Despite what people think, Atsumu is loyal, and I trust him, so.” Rin hummed. His eyes moved to Atsumu again, and Rin hummed again. 

“Really? Not even that?” He pointed, and Kiyoomi followed his finger and froze. 

The guy’s hand was resting on Atsumu’s thigh, the inner side, and his fingers were rubbing the muscle there. The guy’s mouth was right next to Atsumu’s ear, whispering something, and Kiyoomi could see his tongue touching the sensitive shell there. 

Kiyoomi’s eye twitched. 

He saw Atsumu flinch, immediately pulling back and shaking the guy’s hand off of his body. Yeah, Kiyoomi thought. Push him away. 

“Hey, now,” Atsumu’s voice reached Kiyoomi’s ears. “We’re just drinkin’ here, no needta get handsy.” The guy raised a brow. 

“No need? I’ve been buying you drinks! Why do you think I’m doing that? For the sake of it?” The guy stood up. “I’ve been flirting with you all night, and you’re telling me no need to get handsy? Are you for real?” 

“Jeez, what a piece of work,” Rin muttered, and Kiyoomi agreed with a hum. He only needed to think for half a second before he stood up from his own seat and walked towards Atsumu. He heard Hinata, Bokuto and Osamu whistling behind him, cheering. He held back an eye-roll as he approached the men. 

“Hey, there, darling boy,” he called to Atsumu, and Atsumu immediately brightened. Annoyance disappearing from his face, he smiled big and happily at Kiyoomi. 

“Omi-kun!” His strong arms wrapped themselves around Kiyoomi’s waist, pulling him in between the V of his thighs and resting his head against his stomach. “I’ve missed ya,” he murmured. Kiyoomi, despite the anger bubbling under his skin, sighed softly and petted Atsumu’s honey-colored hair. 

Then, Kiyoomi turned his head to the man standing next to them. His dark eyes were cold, and he raised a questioning brow. “And you are?” He asked and watched the color change on the man’s face. “You here to bring us drinks? I’ll have Sex on the Beach, and my darling likes his Amsterdam.” He heard some choking sounds behind him, where his friends were occupying, and the man sputtered. 

“I am not here to bring you drinks, I’m─” 

“Oh, then you can walk away,” Kiyoomi interrupted. Atsumu’s arms tightened around him. One look at him, Kiyoomi frowned slightly. “Better yet, you stay here and keep drinking. Let’s go, honey,” Kiyoomi tapped softly on Atsumu’s head, and Atsumu, being the puppy he was for Kiyoomi, immediately stood up. He held his hand tightly, waving his free one to his friends, bidding his goodbye. 

They walked hand in hand in silence for a while. Their feet taking them back to their hotel on autopilot, Atsumu felt like he did something wrong. The air around them was awkward and charged with something Atsumu had trouble putting a name on. He could see the barely visible signs of Kiyoomi being angry, but there was a feeling in him that told him that Kiyoomi wasn’t angry at Atsumu. 

Kiyoomi pulled out the hotel room’s key and walked inside after the door beeped open for them. 

“Strip,” he ordered. He spared a few seconds to watch Atsumu fumble with his clothes before turning around and walking towards the bathroom. He took his t-shirt off, soaped his hands and washed them thoroughly. Thinking about the amount of germs and dirt the bars collect made Kiyoomi’s head spin lightly. 

After he was done, he dried his hands and put on some cream to stop his skin drying. He was rubbing the cream in while walking back into the bedroom when he saw Atsumu, all naked, slightly panting with the prettiest blush on his cheeks, sitting obediently on the bed. Kiyoomi stopped. 

“Atsu,” he called out. Atsumu lifted his head up and looked at Kiyoomi with those wide, honey-colored eyes. Kiyoomi felt himself soften at the way he was looking right now, could imagine how Kiyoomi was looking at Atsumu, all fond and in love, and he smiled. “Darling boy,” he murmured and extended his hand out for him. 

Atsumu whined softly as he nuzzled against the peach-smelling hand. He placed his cheek on Kiyoomi’s palm and looked up once again. Kiyoomi felt himself twitch in his pants. 

“I kind of want to punish you for what happened at the bar,” Kiyoomi told him. “Should I?” Atsumu sighed. 

“Whatever ya think would be fittin’, Omi-kun,” Atsumu whispered, nuzzling into his palm a little more. Kiyoomi frowned at the sudden urge to squish Atsumu's cheeks and just love on him aggressively. Atsumu kissed his palm, and then his wrist. His tongue poked sweetly at each mole dotted on Kiyoomi’s arm. 

“Not a punishment, but service,” Kiyoomi said, deciding on the spot. “Punishing you doesn’t sound right when you pulled back.” Atsumu nodded enthusiastically. 

“Ya know I’m all for servicin’, Omi-kun,” Atsumu murmured. “Love servicin’ ya know it.” He bit on the meat of Kiyoomi’s forearm gently. “Can I love on ya? Please?” Kiyoomi let out a soft hum-like moan in response. Atsumu extended his hands to grab Kiyoomi’s waist, thumbs rubbing the skin gently, and pulled him on his lap. 

Kiyoomi nudged Atsumu’s nose with his, lips brushing against each other. Atsumu leaned forward and in, letting their bare chests touch, and kissed Kiyoomi’s chin. 

“How do ya want me, baby?” He asked, peppering kisses along the long line of Kiyoomi’s neck. Kiyoomi hummed, losing himself a little in Atsumu’s sweet kisses. Kiyoomi’s hands found their ways into Atsumu’s hair, grabbing a handful and using the leverage to pull him in even more. Atsumu moaned against his skin. Kiyoomi shivered. “Omi? Baby? Talk t’me, huh?” 

Kiyoomi whined. “Kiss me all over,” he breathed. His resolve from earlier was crumbling quickly. Initially, he planned to take charge, to make Atsumu whine and desperate so that he’d know what would wait for him if he ever let someone flirt with him, but right now, he was practically putty in Atsumu’s clever fingers and loving lips. 

“Whatever my King says,” Atsumu whispered and captured his lips in a filthy, passionate kiss. Moaning, Kiyoomi threw his arms around Atsumu, grinding his hips down on the hardness forming resting against his ass, and returned his kiss just as passionately. Atsumu let out a small gasp. His hands immediately grabbed Kiyoomi’s ass to squeeze and help him move. 

“My God, Omi-kun,” Atsumu panted as Kiyoomi’s dick rubbed against his. “Yer so sexy, such a little feisty thin’ in my arms…” He dove right back in for another kiss and swallowed Kiyoomi’s moan happily. Atsumu flipped their position, finally having Kiyoomi under him, he rested his groin against Kiyoomi’s already hard dick and ground down deep. 

“Fuck, Atsu!” Kiyoomi groaned. Atsumu felt like roaring with the sound and the way his name fell from his beloved’s lips. Grumbling a little to himself, he practically ripped Kiyoomi’s pants off of his body, revealing the gorgeous sight to his hungry eyes. His honey-colored eyes took in the length of his pretty legs, appreciated the muscle covering his body, and his lips tingled with the urge to kiss each mole.

“Goddamn, baby, yer so damn pretty, so gorgeous,” Atsumu mumbled as he dropped his head to kiss his chest, to twirl his tongue on his nipple. Kiyoomi took in a sharp breath at the sensation. “Sometimes I can’t believe that I gotchu in my bed, have you kissin’ and lovin’ me sweetly every day.” He nipped Kiyoomi’s collarbones, biting his way down to the V of his abdomen. “‘m such a lucky bastard, dunno what I did to deserve ya…” 

“Atsu…” Kiyoomi sighed. His hands messed Atsumu’s hair more, fingers tangling with the soft curls. “Atsu, please?” Atsumu groaned in defeat against Kiyoomi’s skin. His lips pressed a kiss right over his hard dick, nose nuzzling against the nicely groomed dark curls at the base of his erection. Kiyoomi’s breath hitched when Atsumu’s hot breath hit his sensitive dick, making it jump and twitch for attention. 

Humming, Atsumu grabbed a hold of Kiyoomi’s dick, pumping it once, twice and three times before rubbing his thumb on the tip to smear the precum collected there. Kiyoomi moaned, thrusted his hips up and spread his legs even more. Atsumu settled between his sweetheart’s slender yet strong thighs, giving kisses to each inner thigh, covering them up with soft bite marks. Kiyoomi moved his hips again, silently begging Atsumu to get on with it. 

Atsumu smirked. “Ay, a’right,” he murmured and closed his lips around Kiyoomi’s hard dick. Kiyoomi’s gasp-mixed-moan echoed in the bedroom. Atsumu took a breath from his nose and slid more of Kiyoomi in his mouth. His throat closed tightly around Kiyoomi, moving each time Atsumu swallowed or hummed or moaned. Bobbing his head up and down, soon, Atsumu was giving Kiyoomi the sloppiest blowjob he had ever had. 

“Atsu,” Kiyoomi was saying. “Atsu, Atsu, Atsu, fuck!” Tears were rolling down his cheeks and wetting the duvet under his body. The sweat was covering every inch of his skin, making it look shiny and so damn lickable in Atsumu’s eyes. Pulling off of Kiyoomi’s dick, Atsumu mouthed Kiyoomi’s balls without giving him a second to complain. “Shit─ If you do that, I’ll─ Atsumu!” Biting down very gently, Atsumu sucked. Kiyoomi’s chest curled off the bed, closed over Atsumu’s head, as he came on Atsumu’s face. Sticky ropes of come covered Atsumu’s pretty face, and honestly, Kiyoomi felt like he could die and die happy. 

“Damn, sweetheart,” Atsumu husked, voice slightly raspy from the blowjob he just gave him. He rose up on his knees on the bed, between Kiyoomi’s thighs, and stroked his own cock. Kiyoomi blinked away the sudden exhaustion and curled and moved his body until he was face to face with Atsumu’s cock. “Omi?” Kiyoomi kissed his thighs. “Baby, ya don’t hav’to. ‘s me servicin’ ya, remember?”

Kiyoomi made a sound of complaint and took his cock in his mouth, deep in throat, in one go. Atsumu sowre loudly, and his hands grabbed Kiyoomi’s shoulders as something to hold on. 

Kiyoomi wasn’t a big fan of giving blowjobs. He knew how filthy men were; some were too lazy to clean their junk, or some were straight up did not care if they were clean or not. So, Kiyoomi always avoided giving blowjobs. It did not mean that he was bad at it, though. With his non-existent gag reflex, Kiyoomi actually didn’t mind having a cock deep in his throat, wrecking it as it fucked his throat on the verge of slightly too much. 

With Atsumu coming into his life, Kiyoomi’s view at blowjobs had changed drastically. Even though Atsumu came across as someone who was lazy and didn’t mind leaving his shit around and maybe clean his space once in a week, he was oddly very clean and organized. He was one of those who was organized in chaos. His shit was scattered all around, yes, but it was weirdly very collected at the same time. It was hard to explain, but overall, Atsumu was clean. Kiyoomi could also make sure of that, so he did not mind Atsumu mind and back blowing blowjobs. 

Like right now. 

“Omi,” Atsumu moaned. His head was thrown back, his strong neck exposed and hair flopped back at the motion, and his eyes were closed as he felt his orgasm approaching rather quickly. “Omi, fuck, baby, ‘m gonna come…” Sighing and moaning, Atsumu’s hands tightened on Kiyoomi’s shoulders, blunt nails digging into the porcelain skin. “Kiyoomi, fuck!” Thrusting his cock even deeper into Kiyoomi’s mouth, Atsumu came. Kiyoomi’s throat massaged Atsumu’s cock sweetly as he swallowed all the come Atsumu had given him. 

Kiyoomi pulled off, licking Atsumu’s cock clean with kitten-like licks.Atsumu’s cock twitched tiredly, but Atsumu knew he could go again if he were to be given five to ten minutes. 

“Omi-baby,” Atsumu breathed. His warm and large hand cradled Kiyoomi’s cheek, lifting his head up and pulling his dangerous lips away from Atsumu’s poor cock, he smiled down at him. “Yer so goddamn pretty,  Omi-kun,” he whispered. Kiyoomi hummed and nuzzled into Atsumu’s palm. 

Leaning in, Atsumu kissed Kiyoomi, spit and come be damned. He could taste himself, but he didn’t mind. Kissing Kiyoomi was his priority. Kiyoomi hummed into the kiss and brought a hand to cradle Atsumu’s face. His thumb stroked Atsumu’s cheek, brow and temple, and then his hand moved to his hair. Fingers tangling in the curls once again, Kiyoomi pulled them back harshly, making Atsumu gasp.

“Let some other guy touch you like that, and I’ll turn your cock blue, Miya, you understand me?” Atsumu gasped once again, cock twitching at the dark tone in Kiyoomi’s voice. “You were so oblivious to his flirting… You just kept accepting his drinks…” He pulled on his hair a little more. “Not again, okay?” Kiyoomi rose up to his knees to make their faces level. “You’re mine and only mine. Got that?” 

Atsumu hummed. “Yes, baby,” he whispered. “Yes, I’m yours, only yours, will never be anyone’s.” Kiyoomi watched him for a couple seconds and let go of his hair. Atsumu let out a breath, and then he immediately tackled Kiyoomi against the bed, trapping him between his body and the duvet. “Mark me,” he begged. “Omi-baby, mark me, let them know ‘m yours, please.” 

Kiyoomi’s eyes glazed over at the request. “You’re threading into the dangerous waters, Miya,” he said. 

“Don’t care as long as I gotchu with me,” Atsumu murmured against Kiyoomi’s skin. “It’s you, baby, I’ll face any danger for ya.” Kiyoomi blinked. 

“God, you’re fucking cheesy,” Kiyoomi grumbled, but his heart was making flips in its cage. Atsumu grinned happily. “You mean it?” Atsumu nodded. “Can I mark you in any way?” Atsumu nodded again. “Don’t come crying to me when you regret your choices.” 

Atsumu’s grin widened. “Never, Kiyoomi.” Kiyoomi kissed him on the lips. 

“You better fucking mean it.” 

───

And mean it, he did.

When Kiyoomi found a way to marry him, getting his ring tattooed on his ring finger, Atsumu did not complain at all. He happily, a little too happily maybe, accepted the proposal, the ring and the tattoo. 

Kiyoomi left a huge hickey on his neck, anyway. 

Atsumu took that without complaint, too, and showed it off without an ounce of shame. 

“My love and pride,” he called it when people asked him what it was. 

Kiyoomi was too busy trying not to blush at his words to care enough about anything else. 

#sakusa kiyoomi x miya atsumu #miya atsumu x sakusa kiyoomi #sakuatsu #skts #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fanfic #atsumu x kiyoomi #little jealousy never hurt nobody

[roobylavender]

i think one of the things i want to do over break for funsies is like. rewatch every pak drama of the major contemporary writers nationally hailed as progressive (e.g., umera ahmed, farhat ishtiaq, sameera fazal, etc.) and see how many of the male leads i come out actually still liking. like i want to make an excel spreadsheet cataloguing every red flag that went under my radar as a kid. for science

#bc if we are being real. sooo many of these guys are nothing short of rancid #and while i get the point of a lot of these dramas is to show emotionally stunted men grow #idk how much tolerance i have for certain behaviors now like idk.. #tangentially this is also why complaints of saif from kuch ankahi Really amuse me #like ok so all of the most toxic and insecure men imaginable aren’t a problem for most pak drama fans #but a man who simply lacks agency and is maybe a bit cowardly bc his mother overimposes on him is horrible and unappealing.. #like i’m not saying people have to like him or have a crush on him by any means #but i think it’s weird people are blatantly ignoring he’s being used to comment on how mothers emasculate their sons and strip their agency #and how that doesn’t always translate to those sons being weird toxic alpha males but can simply make them cowardly and unable to stand up #for themselves. which yes. is totally worth criticizing. but it’s strange people think samiya is coddling him #simply bc she’s willing to ask him what he thinks when his mother does or says certain things #if she were coddling him she wouldn’t even bother worrying that he’s a pushover #but instead what she does is prompt him to slowly recognize that he has his own thoughts and feelings and that he can act on him #and that she’s not going to solve his problems for him bc he’s capable of solving them himself #and idk i think that is a narrative worth telling. and i am so willing to cut him slack for being a coward bc he’s the farthest thing from #a toxic alpha male. people have twisted him into being this horrible liar cheat etc for liking someone else prior to his marriage #despite the fact that we are literally being told and shown he’s forced into the marriage and his mom Knows he likes someone else and she #doesn’t care. saif cannot realistically say no without effectively running away and he’s incapable of that bc he fears his mother #he’s not a bad person. he’s just a coward. and his growth will entail that he becomes someone brave enough to take a stand for himself #and personally i am way more open than whatever shite we have in other dramas where it takes a saas abusing her bahu for her son to wake up #to be deleted

[so-you-melted-22]

One of the biggest questions I have for the Call Of Duty fandom is where the actual fuck the headcanon that Ghost is blonde and blue eyed comes from?!? Isn’t it canon that he has brown hair and brown eyes? Like isn’t that a pretty noticeable trait he has in the comics?

#and also the video game #idk i didn’t play it #but I saw enough clips at this point #and i read the comic #because if something has a comic you damn we’ll know I’m gonna read it and be a bitch about it #like it doesn’t really bother me that much but now that I know it I can’t unsee it #y’all are describing him like the guy from my German course who doesn’t think misogyny is real #who also happens to be named Simon unfortunately #idk it’s just weird #stuff #text #call of duty #simon ghost riley #also this guy is destroyed when it comes to mental health #the line 'all roads end in black rot' personified in one warpropaganda videogame character #that we all also have decided to babygirl like it’s our gods give right #wich it is tbh #anyways Post with nonsensical tags about my current petpeeve #is that how you write it?

[lucyvsky]

thinking

#ok so like. ignore this i just need to type things out #it’s weird because i don’t ever know what to call my hyperacusis right. like i don’t know what to do about it i just call it a sound thing #and move on but it’s like. i don’t know if it’s a disability or not because yeah it’s like. well it makes my life miserable and impacts like #everything about how i interact with the world. etc. but since i can manage it better now it doesn’t worry me as much and i don’t think that #i struggle with it as much as i used to so it just doesn’t count for me. but it’s also like. i don’t know. my audiologist thinks it’s caused #by me playing trombone but i’m willing to bet it’s all the concerts too but in any situation it’s my own fault and i don’t know how bad i’m #allowed to feel about something that i did to myself. like just the consequences of my actions. etc. on another note though it’s hard too #because i can’t find like. anything concrete about hyperacusis really like it sort of exists but also not really but demonstrably it exists #because i can feel it but there’s no research. and so i don’t know how to figure out my relationship with my sound thing. at all. because on #some levels it’s just like nooooooooo :(( too loud noise but then you go on the wikipedia page it’s like. people have killed themselves #because they had this and it’s just like. ok so that’s a possibility here. great. and i need to survive this?? #i don’t know man. blame the random onset of tinnitus five minutes ago for this #it’s just hard because i don’t know how seriously i should tell other people to treat it like my friends from high school were there with me #when it was the worst it has ever been and so like. they know how bad it could get but i just get really dismissive of it now when people #ask me about it because it’s like. well it hasn’t been that bad in a while but it could be at any time. and so having to define how much it #bothers me to other people is hard because on some days i’m so normal and then on other days i’m near tears over something #i just miss my friends

[inkykeiji]

Did you know the voice actor who voices Dabi also does a character in serie attack on titan? I must admit I didn't recognize it at first. Just saw his name pop up. - 🦒 ps: I still have my answer in the drafts about the holiday. It got way too long🙈

so i’ve been told!! (*/ω＼*) i don’t watch attack on titan so i wouldn’t know hehe but i’ve been told that he’s in that and that he’s in demon slayer! sighs dreamily hiro is so talented and his voice makes me swoooooon

also!!! that’s okay!! send it whenever u feel like sending it, no pressure at all! <3

#do u know how much money i would pay to have this man call me and just talk in my ear #in japanese or in english it really doesn’t matter #in his dabi voice or in his real voice i don’t even care #ugh <33333333 #omg u know who else has a gorgeous voice???????????? #kouki uchiyama #(aka tomura) #ohhhhhhh my good god #that man!!!!!!!!!!!! #i just want him to call me and read the japanese phone book to me or something like genuinely don’t even care what it is or what language it #is his voice is just so fucking hot it makes me melt #now u got me all hot and bothered over voices #hehehehehe #have a wonderful day sweet giraffe <3 #keep safe and drink enough water okay!!! #🦒.anon #clari gets mail

[seilon]

I have 15 years of piano experience, several years experience playing keyboard in an ensemble / comping, vocal training/experience, and have picked up guitar recently (about 5 months ago ish). i have the credentials now how the fuck do i join a band

#kibumblabs #i imagine you need friends and that’s probably my issue #i just have. no friends #I’m still beating myself up a bit for ghosting a friend of mine who admittedly I couldn’t do much with right now anyway cause I live 400 #miles away– but partly because he would have been my best possible shot at starting a band as he’s a very experienced and talented guitarist #and bassist and so on (the kinda guy who knows some amount of like every instrument) to the point where we’d talk about music theory #sometimes just. because. and I know is taste is good too #and I can not believe I never had the balls to be like hey. like. you wanna play together at some point #god I am mentally banging my head against a wall #anyway so now I’m here and I have no friends and no connections and my school doesn’t even have music classes/clubs/etc at all #so. fuck me dude #sigh #maybe I should focus on retraining my voice first anyway cause it’s been thoroughly fucked up by testosterone and I’ve been set back. a lot. #i really need to work on that either with a teacher or with online resources or something cause it’s been eating me alive lately it bothers #me so much. and when I see myself playing with a band i really wanted to be a singer specifically despite my piano experience (tho I know of #course I can do both) and now I definitely don’t feel confident enough in my voice to be a lead so. I’d have to. work on that a lot first #hehdhsgshhddhdhdj torture #one thing that gives me some hope is that I am in probably the best location to find Something music-wise. i mean I’m right next to #fucking LA so I mean. yeah. had an Uber driver the other day talk about how he moved all the way from Poland to SoCal to try and find work #doing music cause it was his passion and all that and at some point he asked me if I did anything live and of course I said no (I’d already #mentioned the instruments I play and whatnot) and when I said it was cause I didn’t know anyone he was like aahhh that’s no excuse! you can #find something! you live in Orange County! you just gotta keep looking and go to more places people like that get together #and I haven’t stopped thinking about that #thank you polish red hot chili peppers enthusiast u are an inspiration

[fertilizing-daffodils]

…..damn it. I know I’m just sad and mad. I’m smad. And now I’m smangry because I can’t think of the actual word.

#damn she really just said 'lol bye forever' and dipped huh #that used to be what I would do #just here one day and then all gone the next #like i get it do what you gotta do and protect your own peace #but jesus christ dude you lived in my house #you called me your friend and told me you loved me and i cared for you and trusted so much of myself to you #its obvious my partner meant more to you than I did by a long shot but you left her without a thought too #its horrible irony that this spiraled because we couldnt figure out how to have a conversation about it with everyone on the same page #and now i guess she's decided that we arent worth the wait #which fine we were half worried she'd try to physically assault me after finding out anyway #granted i'd let her have at least one good hit in if she truly wanted (cuz i still think i deserve worse) #but keeping my wife from losing it on her for touching me would be a whole other story #edit: bleh it’s all still true and I deserve what I get for being a real shitty friend #she doesn’t even know how shitty of a friend #I guess it just bothers me that my partner’s friendship was so easily tossed aside #I know I should care more about myself but I just don’t want to right now