#my heels don’t hurt tho | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

star-girl69 · 4 months

Text

protective clarisse save me ANWAYSSSS enjoy

*mentions of clarisse picking reader up and carrying her around

PLEASE ignore the fact i forgot ambrosia existed thanks 🙏🙏 yk i just be saying stuff

it starts out like any capture the flag game

except for the fact you’re on different teams

like in so it goes when clar tells y/n “don’t do anything i wouldn’t do”

everyone once in a while the teams switch up

and clarisse has a really hard time when you’re not on the same team, but she can usually function

she’s worried out of her mind obvi

we all know you’re her achilles heel

but for some reason this time clarisse just has a really bad feeling

she’ll probably threaten everyone on her team- if they so much as LOOK at you in the wrong way she’s going to make their lives a literal hell

and everyone is like ok scary lady 🫡

they all know clarisse don’t play about you

so the game is going pretty normal

you’re just doing your thing and clarisse is hunting around you

it’s really funny because you and a few of your siblings are just fighting whoever makes their way to you

and you win every time

bc clarisse is still letting you win 😭😭😭😭

the good members of her team get told to turn around

and then she lets the weaker ones, the stragglers she doesn’t care about, pass through and then smiles when you cheer after winning even tho she can’t see you

you feel her eyes on you tho sometimes it’s kinda creepy

but basically annabeth and the blue team had set up these trenches in random parts of the wood

they were lined with like a bunch of leaves and spare linens so they were soft at the bottom

but someone 🙄🙄🙄 ugh

forgot to soften up one of them and that’s the one you fall into

she hears you scream and she’s like WOAH HOLY FUCK

running through the woods you’re crying at the bottom of this 6 ft deep hole your siblings are screaming

like she literally throws herself to the ground and drags you out of the pit pure adrenaline

and like she could tell just by your screams and the look on your face that you were HURT HURT

but she knows you need her rn so she pulls you into her lap and asks what hurts

and you can’t even speak you’re in so much pain but you gesture to your leg and maybe clarisse just didn’t want to notice it before but like that bitch is BROKEN

she’s literally shaking

“it’s okay it’s okay baby it’s okay someone is gonna go get a healer right? SOMEONE IS GOING TO GO GET A HEALER, RIGHT?”

*cue like 10 random campers all running off*

and you’re screaming and crying and your siblings are freaking out so the game kinda stops bc everyone is like what happened 😭

then they just walk into this clearing and see you pale and crying and leg obviously broken, sitting in a shaking clarisse’s lap

one of her siblings definitely has to come over and subtly say that she’s like doing a good job LMAO

bc she is STRUGGLING

like she’s never been so scared in her life

her heart is pounding her hands are shaking

but for the first time in her life she’s not really angry right now

she’s just fucking terrified

and she HATES it

she’s stroking your hair and has her arm wrapped around your waist so tight

she tells you “just dig your nails into my arm”

and you can’t even comprehend what’s going on so she grabs your hands and let’s you squeeze so hard she swears her fingers come out a little crooked

FINALLY some apollo kids come over with a stretcher

so then she starts yelling at them “BE GENTLER SHES HURT DUMBFUCKS”

then finally after clarisse’s incessant screaming she holds your hand as they take you back to the healers

then 20 minutes later they reset your leg and put it in a little cast and give you some AMAZING painkillers

so you’re like omg

clarisse is like pale and sweaty and her heartbeat is so erratic one of the healers actually has to come over and be like “maybe you should sit down and get checked out..?”

she starts screaming at them

then you’re like “omg no my saviors are fighting ☹️☹️☹️☹️”

“no no i’m sorry i didn’t mean to make you sad it’s fine it’s fine we’re not fighting”

“yay!!!!!!!”

she has to lay down in your bed and take some really deep breaths in order to calm down

and you’re just happy bc you are floating and you have your gf with you

you’re babbling on about something and clarisse is like wtf is happening to me

but also she’s acting like you just died

holding your head to her chest and staring off into the distance like that one painting of ivan the terrible holding his dead son y’all know

and you��re just happy

she’s kissing all over your face and head and telling you about how she’s gonna help you

“i’ll carry you whenever you don’t feel like using your crutches, i’ll make sure you take all your medicine, i’ll find and kill whoever did this to you, i’ll sleep with you every night just in case, and i won’t let you out of my sight ever again, and i’ll make chiron switch the teams back”

she ends up doing all of those things obvi

she annoys chiron so much he makes a permanent rule that the ares and your cabin always have to be on the same team

clarisse becomes 10x worse in terms of protectiveness

like she’s watching you like a HAWK

she just felt so totally helpless in that moment so unprepared and she never wants to feel like that again

she doesn’t think her heart can take it actually 😭

she does find the person and loses dessert privileges for 5 months for what she did!!!!!

she sleeps with you ever night bc the meds make you sleep restlessly and she’s always there to whisper in your ear and lull you back to sleep

even if you’re like oh i can just use my crutches she’s always staring at the ground like it’s a monster that’s gonna hurt you so she’s like

“hm well i don’t think so actually haha just let me carry you”

“I WANT TO WALK CLARISSE”

*picking you up* “no it’s fine this is safest”

“LET ME DOWN”

basically you’re just the love of her life and she can’t imagine something else happening to you

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

924 notes · View notes

unboundprompts · 4 months

Note

hii! can i request a dialogues prompt of princess x their guard (i think it’s leaning to medieval times tho for the setting), non-smut/fluff or smut, i don’t mind, anything you’re comfortable with!!

and if i may ask for a second request, i’d like a request of dialogues prompt between two best friend, in which he is actually secret superhero, she likes to patch his injuries etc etc and well yeah they just have a crush on each other thingy, do what u think is good for a story🫰🏼

tysmmmmmm✨🫶🏼

I'm in love with both of these ideas!! I'll make them into two separate posts and tag you in the other.

Prompts for a Princess x Their Guard

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

"Do you think our love is doomed?" he whispered to his princess, his lips hovering over hers. He wanted nothing more than to close the gap, to show her how much she truly meant to him, but there were so many worries that lingered heavy in his chest. She glanced to his lips, then looked up at his eyes with a hurt on her face that made his heart ache. "Why would you say that?" she asked him. His hands fell from cradling her face, sliding down her arms and then her hands. "It's just..." he began, struggling to find the words. "You're a princess. The princess. And I'm just some guy. They'll never allow us to be together, you know that."

"You're the one person that makes me feel safe."

"You shouldn't be here." The knight stared at the princess, who was standing in their dirty barracks in her nice, lavish clothing. She watched them from the doorway, taking in their appearance now that they were no longer dressed in their uniform. "I wanted to see you," she answered, as if that were reason enough to explain why she had made the hike unaccompanied. "This is no place for a Princess." They began to dress themself, ignoring the blush that was growing hot on their cheeks. "Let me walk you home."

"If you asked me to run away with you, I'd say yes in a heartbeat."

"Your job is to protect me," the princess said, smirk pulling at her lips. The guard's heart was hammering in his chest, and he prayed that his expression was just as stoic as it was meant to be. "So," the princess continued, wrapping her arms around his neck, "protect me."

The princess dragged the guard into her bedroom, closing the door behind them. She pressed her back against the door with a mischievous grin, blocking their only exit. The guard stood stiffly in the center of the room. "What are you doing?" they asked the princess. She rocked back on her heels. "I got you something." "You got me something?" She moved to her dresser and began to dig through her drawer. The princess held up a necklace to her guard. It was a stone carved into the shape of a star on a simple silver chain. "So you'll think of me," she told them, "anytime you wear it." The guard's heart was melting. "I already think of you," they answered, "all the time. I'm never not thinking of you."

If you like what I do and want to support me, please consider buying me a coffee! I also offer editing services and other writing advice on my Ko-fi! Become a member to receive exclusive content, early access, and prioritized writing prompt requests.

#writing prompts #dialogue prompt #creative writing #writeblr #otp prompts #prompt list #soft prompts #story prompt #ask box prompts #princess x knight #princess x guard #prompts #romance prompts #angst prompts #prince x knight

407 notes · View notes

evanpeterswhoresblog · 16 days

Text

Guilty as Sin?

James Potter x f!reader (mentioned), Remus Lupin x f!reader

warnings: smut, protected p in v, lots of descriptions of what ifs (you’ll understand with the song), underage smoking, if you squint it may just be cheating but oh well, this is so good to me

summary: someone once told you, there’s no such thing as bad thoughts… right?

word count: 3k

a/n: i’m in love with this song from taylor’s new album!!! sorry if this characterization isn’t what you like but this concept has been eating me alive. i love remus tho. might be a part two if you guys want !!!

part two is here!!

~~~

Drowning in the Blue Nile

He sent me “Downtown Lights”

I hadn’t heard it in a while

~~~

“Oi y/n!”

You turned on your heels at the sound of your name being called. Down the hallway, you could see James Potter striding toward you. Despite the bodies of other students that filled the hall, you could see he was holding something in his hand. It looked big, and as he came closer and closer you could see more and more of what it was.

“Hello James, something I can help you with?” You asked once he was close enough to hear your normal tone. You looked down at his hands, you could see what he was holding clearly, it was a record. And from the cover of it, it looked to be a muggle one. “What’s that?”

James smiled his intoxicating smile and held the record up. “Something for you.”

You gasped and one of your hands moved up to cover your mouth. In his hands, he held the latest album of your favorite singer, Heroes by David Bowie. It had come out in October, and every time you searched for it, it was sold out. You traced your eyes over the beautiful shining black and white cover, you were practically speechless.

“How did you- when did you- James...”

“I have my ways, don’t worry about it,” the black-haired boy replied with a small laugh.

“It’s not close enough to be a Christmas gift, and you know my birthday isn’t till spring,” you observed out loud. Your eyes met his again and you blinked. “So, what’s this for?”

He shrugged. “For the past few weeks, I haven’t been the only one to take notice of how much you’ve been playing Bowie in the common room. And I heard you talking to Moony about how you haven’t got the new album yet... so here it is.”

He held it out to you and with delicate hands, you accepted the gift, still amazed. “James, you didn’t have to.”

“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to,” he said as he ran a hand through his hair. “I’m surprised Moony didn’t already get it for you.”

“Yeah...” You looked down for a moment before meeting his eyes again, and you smiled. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Play it tonight, put it to use. Anyway, I’ve got to run, I’m supposed to be helping Peter with his Charms homework. See you at dinner.”

He gave you another smile before turning and walking back the way he came. You were too preoccupied with the flawless record in your hands to say goodbye. For a split second, you felt your heart flutter with a feeling you knew you shouldn’t have felt. So, you pushed it away and restarted your walk to the dungeons.

You knew better than to let those thoughts linger in the open hallway.

~~~

My boredom’s bone-deep

This cage was once just fine

Am I allowed to cry?

~~~

“James got that for you?”

You had just put the record on, and the sound of David Bowie's voice began to fill the Gryffindor common room. Your cheeks almost hurt from how much you’d been smiling. On one of the couches, your boyfriend Remus sat, his typical book in his lap. You turned and flung yourself on the open spot next to him, nodding your head to the beat of the song.

“Yeah, he gave it to me earlier, isn’t it wonderful?”

Remus nodded; his eyes locked on his book. “It’s definitely something.”

You rolled your eyes. “You like Bowie too last I checked.”

“You play him so much I’m surprised not everyone likes him,” Remus replied. Suddenly he shut his book and turned his head to look at you. For a split second, you felt hope that he was going to just listen with you. But of course, that wasn’t the case. Instead, he rose from the couch. “I can’t concentrate with it playing, I’m going to go read in my dorm.”

“But we barely spend any time together Rem, unless it’s a shag,” you protested, anger suddenly taking you over. “When’s the last time we went on a proper date? Or anything at all? I’m so bored of this.”

Remus as usual, kept his composer and showed no sign of any emotion. “If you’re so bored you’re welcome to leave me.”

“You know that’s not what I want,” you said.

“Then I’m not sure what to tell you. You’re welcome to join me, you know where to find me.”

He left before you could say anything else.

You ran your hands over your face in frustration. How did your relationship come to this? You started dating Remus in fifth year, and it had been the happiest moment of your life. He was your first love, the boy you shared almost all of your firsts with actually. You loved him more than anyone, yet it never seemed to be enough. So, you began to give up.

After all, it was your last year at Hogwarts, after it ended, you’d never have to see him again. Because really, was so much pain worth a moment of happiness? You didn’t believe so anymore.

Instead of following him up to his dorm as you would have the year prior, you simply laid back on the couch and enjoyed the first listen of the album.

~~~

I dream of cracking locks

Throwing my life to the wolves or the ocean rocks

Crashing into him tonight, he’s a paradox

I’m seeing visions, am I bad?

Or mad? Or wise?

~~~

The first time you ever thought of James in the way you knew you shouldn’t be was about a year into your relationship with Remus. After he had begun his distant behavior, his cold manners, and all those awful things. Previously, you had only ever felt attracted to the one Marauder. You saw Peter as a sweet little brother, you saw Sirius as an older annoying brother, and you saw James as well, a friend. That was until one late December night.

You and Remus had one of your arguments and you went outside for a smoke to help with your anxiety. For a few minutes, you sat in silence, the cold air and smoke in your lungs a great distraction from the boiling fears that consumed your mind. You were afraid to lose Remus. More than afraid. So, you inhaled a deep puff of the cigarette to focus on something else.

“You’ll catch a cold out here you know.”

You jumped at the sudden sound of a voice. James sat next to you, and you were perplexed at how he managed to sneak into the spot so quietly. You were also confused as to why he was there in the first place.

“If that’s the case then why are you out here?” You questioned as you let out a cloud of smoke.

He held up his hand and you passed it to him. “I had a... date anyway Filtch was in the corridor, so I ran out here. I doubt he followed, he and Mrs. Norris hate this time of year.” He inhaled a deep breath and passed the cigarette back to you. “Why are you out here?”

“A date? Is that what they call a shag now?” You laughed for a few seconds before your frown resurfaced. “Remus and I had a disagreement. We both said some nasty things, I needed to clear my head.”

“Ah, lovers quarrel. Are you all right? Remus can say some pretty nasty things when he’s mad,” James said as he pushed his glasses back up his nose.

You stared at him in silence for a moment. Never before had you realized how attractive he really was. Sirius was known to be the most attractive of the Marauders, but his crude personality, at least in your opinion, always outshined his natural features. James, however, since the start of sixth year, had matured. That meant he was no longer solely physically attractive; he also had an attractive personality. He was funny, caring, outgoing, and a leader. And of course, he was six feet tall with curly black hair and a perfect smile. Who wouldn’t be attracted to that?

You swallowed away the tingly feeling that shot through your fingers as you passed him the cigarette again.

He’s your boyfriend's best mate, stop thinking like that. You thought to yourself.

But as you watched him exhale another breath of smoke you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about how his perfect lips would feel against yours.

“I’m sure you two will make up by the end of the night, he really loves you,” he spoke. His eyes caught yours, you could see the small smirk on his all too good-looking lips. “Who wouldn’t fancy a girl like you anyway?”

“A lot of guys actually,” you responded.

His hazel eyes were practically glowing. “They’re blokes. Have you seen yourself y/n? You’re pretty, smart, funny, and you have a fascinating music taste. And anything Remus might’ve said to make you feel less than perfect well... he didn’t mean it. Trust me, that wouldn’t be possible.”

You laughed. “What? Me being less than perfect or Remus meaning what he said?”

“Both,” James answered.

He must’ve felt it too. That pull. You almost considered moving closer to him, but before you could make the decision James stood. You were relieved, the spell was broken. Your senses came back. You shouldn’t have even thought about what it would feel like to kiss James Potter.

“Let’s get back up to the tower, it’s pretty fucking cold,” he said.

You only nodded and threw your cigarette to the ground, crushing it with your sneaker after you stood. “All right.”

The two of you walked back up silently and you were greeted by an apologetic Remus. As he held you in his arms though, all you could think about were the thoughts you had previously thought.

~~~

What if he’s written “mine” on my upper thigh only in my mind?

One slip and falling back into the hedge maze

Oh, what a way to die

My bedsheets are ablaze, I’ve screamed his name

Building up like waves crashing over my grave

~~~

You gripped the red sheets of Remus’s bed so hard your knuckles turned white. Your breathing was heavy and unsteady. You tried to lean your head up to kiss him, but he wasn’t paying attention. It was something you’d grown used to. He liked to fuck you hard, not soft, not lovingly. No. He liked it intensely. You did too, but you also liked being gently taken care of.

Too bad he didn’t enjoy that anymore.

“Rem I-”

“I’m- almost done.” He cut you off, his breathless voice which once made you squirm now made you angry.

It was despicable, it was so wrong. And yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from doing it.

You closed your eyes and began to imagine someone else on top of you. Instantly, you felt a rush of heat to your cheeks at the picture in your mind. He would be so much more careful, and considerate. You’d heard from many girls how good of a lover he was. All of them would dote on how much he liked pleasing them. With his fingers, his mouth, and his...

You tried to squeeze your thighs together.

You should’ve stopped, you knew that. But your mind kept going.

You pictured him on top of you. His curls would be so soft. His hands would be callused from Quidditch. He’d use them on you, make you cum over and over again. You imagined how he’d curl his fingers so perfectly inside you.

“That’s it, my perfect girl,” he’d whisper to you as he went on with it. “You’re so good for me, aren’t you?”

Suddenly, without warning, you felt yourself reach a peak you hadn’t reached in a while. You squeezed your eyes shut and came at the thought of how good James Potter's praises would make you feel.

When Remus was done, he lay next to you on the bed breathless. “You came?”

You only stared at the top of his bed. “Yeah.”

~~~

These fatal fantasies

Giving way to labored breath, takin all of me

We’ve already done it in my head

If it’s make-believe

Why does it feel like a vow we’ll both uphold somehow?

~~~

There was something so exhilarating about being around James. Especially when the two of you were alone. It was as though every time the two of you had a moment alone, he gave you another reason to keep your fantasies going. Often, it made you wonder if he knew of your terrible thoughts.

The two of you sat by the black lake, the rest of your friends were further away playing a game of football. It was funny watching Lily get frustrated trying to explain the rules to Sirius, but it was even funnier when James commented on it from beside you.

“Oh no, he picked it up again. Evans is almost turning as red as her hair, I worry for her health,” the boy with glasses joked.

You snorted. “She’s going to have a heart attack from that boy mark my words.”

“I believe that. ‘Suppose it’s a good thing she’s thinking about becoming a Healer,” he replied.

You threw your head back as you laughed, one of your hands flying up to grip James’s arm. After a few seconds though, you composed yourself and pulled your hand off him as though it had been burned. Your eyes immediately found Remus across the field. He paid you no mind.

“Y/n can I ask you something a little personal?” James asked.

Your eyes met his and you didn’t hesitate to nod. “Sure.”

“You and Remus, things aren’t good between the two of you.”

“What gave that away?” You faked a smile. “But that’s not a question love.”

He really smiled. “I know. Sorry. My question was why are you still with him if things between the two of you are like this? I understand being in love, Merlin I tried to get Evans to go out with me for ages. But you and Moony... You used to be in our room all the time, you guys used to be so happy and I dunno around each other. Do you guys even go out anymore? I haven’t seen a snog between the two of you in a while.”

You inhaled a deep breath, your attention moving to the blade of grass between your fingers. “I suppose I’m afraid.”

“Afraid?”

“Yes, afraid. Rem he- he's my first everything and I dunno. If we broke up the friend group would be torn, and everything would be complicated. I suppose it’s just easier this way,” you answered. You hadn’t been this honest about how you felt in a long time. It felt good. And it felt even better when you caught James’s caring eyes.

“Do you love him?”

His question caught you off guard. “I did. I still think I do.”

You watched him look across the field for a few seconds before he did something you never would’ve expected. Ever so gently, he placed his hand over yours on the grass. All you could do was stare wildly into his eyes. Was this supposed to make your heart race and your face red?

“I care about you y/n, and I care about Remus as well. I want what’s best for both of you and if I’m being honest, I don’t think that’s with each other,” he said softly.

“Have you said this to him then?” You questioned, you found it hard to breathe with the feeling of his rough hand on yours.

James nodded. “Of course I have. He doesn’t like advice that much though.”

“He really doesn’t does he?” You mumbled.

“No, he doesn’t. But either of you can talk to me about anything. You know that right? You don’t have to be afraid of anything y/n. Even if you do break up I’ll be here for you, you won’t be alone. Course you have Lily and Mary and Marlene as well but...” You watched his face change as he trailed off. “I dunno. I thought it would be different with me.”

“Different?” You held your breath. “How so?”

His thumb moved across your skin; you bit down on your lip.

“You know...” he trailed off again, his voice quieter than before.

All you could think about was how good it would feel to pounce on top of him and kiss him till you couldn’t breathe. You’d do it, even out there in the open. You imagined how intense and fast it would be. A few minutes at most but a lifetime of pleasure no doubt. He’d make you feel things you hadn’t felt in ages, he’d do whatever you asked. That’s just the person he was.

“James, you don’t even know the half of it,” you admitted softly.

“Love, I think I do.”

You could’ve fainted right then and there. His eyes were so mesmerizing, his voice sent goosebumps all over your body. It was terrible, despicable, and tragic. But oh, how fucking good it felt to be seen again. And as it seemed, James really saw you.

“James we can’t-”

“We aren’t doing anything.” He leaned closer to you. “And besides there’s no such thing as bad thoughts. Only your actions talk.”

“So you-”

“Yes, yes I do.”

“James...”

“I know I must sound like a god-awful prat but believe me I don’t want the two of you to break up so we can... No. I want you two to break up because both of you are miserable. And I do really care about the both of you, you’re my mates.” He explained quickly.

You turned back to the field and saw Remus slowly approaching. Without thinking you ripped your hand away from James’s as fast as you could and stood up. You took a few deep breaths before you looked down at James.

“If Remus and I do break up, I want you to know it’s not because of... all right?”

“All right.” He nodded.

“Good,” you said before turning and making your way out to Remus.

You knew what he wanted to do, and you would oblige.

You had about ten thousand more fantasies to think of during it anyway.

347 notes · View notes

rimaiahwrites · 6 months

Note

more looks into the life of connie and his princess puh-leeze !!! that fic was so cute i’m obsessed

YESS I LOVE THEM SO HERE YALL GOO

(This soo late lol imma edit it tomorrow sorry about any mistakes) kinda short too but anywho

—

Connie’s good girl

The school year has been so rough for y/n, you have been more stressed than ever and was nearly burnt out. Connie knew this and was helping as much as he could but a lot of the time he was also busy with making drops and making ‘business’ plans with ony so when he was very pleased to see you running in the living room with a piece of paper in your hand waving it around with a big grin. “Pa look, look!” You said extremely excited. He grabbed the paper and realized it was your report card and it had only As and A pluses on it, no B or C in sight. He grinned before picking you up and spinning you around in his arms, “Good job princess, all AS!” He kissed your cheeks than your neck making you squeal and giggles since you were so ticklish. “I knew you could do it mama.” You smiled shyly, it always felt good to get so much praise from Connie, other then yourself he was the only person you ever truly wanted to make proud.

“You proud of me papa?” You grinned standing up on your tippy toes to kiss him on the lips. “Mhm very proud I think my princesa need some rewards.” You beamed with glee because that means Connie was going to get you whatever you wanted. You were already spoiled as it is but now that he had a real reason to spoil you today you knew it was going to be something special.

You went to get ready right away. You sported a mini flare skirt with a cute colorfully cropped top with spaghetti straps and pink kitten heels. Your hair was in a half up half down style with two ponytails. You were very cute to say the least.

“You look cute today mama, hope you got sum’ under this short ass skirt tho.” Connie said walking up to you running his hands to you ass to check. You rolled your eyes playfully, of course you did because you knew he didn’t play about any of that with his. “Yes I do now let’s gooo” you say pulling him to the front door. You connected your phone to his Bluetooth in his all black hellcat because of course You being the princess passenger you always got to play your music in the car unless you wanted to hear his. Connie speed out of his driveway like a damn crazy man you were truly surprised he hasn’t gotten into any car accidents with the way he drives, him being a speed racer makes it no better either.

Once you were in the mall it was like a kid in a candy store, you were pulling him to every store your eyes landed on, you got sneakers, heels, couple of bags, cute clothes makeup really anything your little heart desired and Connie was right there supporting you pulling his card out as soon as you stepped up to the cashier. It made your heart swell every time he did too, not just because he was spending his money on you but because he truly treated you like a little princess.

“Con which one?” You asked holding up two bags one dark pink and the other light pink. “I don’t know baby which ever one you want.” Connie mumbled kissing you on the cheek. You huffed and pouted “that’s why I asked you I don’t know what I want papa.” You rolled your eyes still looking at both of them not paying any attention to your surroundings clearly because the older white lady standing closely behind gasped and eyed you shocked at the pet name that you normally addressed Connie as. Connie snorted a chuckle looking the lady in the eye and pointed to the dark pink one. “That one you got a lot of clothes it will match with plus papa loves you in that color.” He said pulling you close and sliding his hand down to you ass gripping it a bit inwardly laughing at the white haired women awkwardly trying to avoid eye contact. You grinned and placed the other one down planting a big kiss on his shape jawline. “I think this is all I want pa let’s go home my feet hurt.” You cried playfully limping a bit.

Connie walked out the mall with Seven bags filled in his arms and you clinging on to him like a koala bear because your feet were hurting to bad from the heel and Connie of course spoiled you to no end and one little whine from you and next thing you knew you were being carried to the car.

“Thank you for all this I really appreciate it” You shyly admit, he was so fine that sometimes it intimidated you a little like his side profile, the neck tattoos going all the way down his arm and hand. He smiled back and leaned over to place a kiss on your soft lips. “You’re welcome mama, my pretty girl so polite let’s get home so I can give you your other presents.” He smirked as he bit and tugged on your bottom lip softly making you whine and clench your legs tightly.

Connie pulled his gaming chair to the mirror in his bedroom and pulled his shirt off, his tattoos on his chest now visible, you had just gotten out of the shower and you had nothing on but one of his big black t shirt. No Panties or bra. “C’mer.” You walked over to him with shaking legs knowing he was about to fuck you dumb. He pulled you on his lap and got started on your neck, kissing gently and pushing his hands under you makeshift nightgown and squeezed your boobs making you moan out a little bit. You bite your lip and watched him through the mirror. He was being so gentle with you like you were made of glass, you rubbed your legs together making your slick spend from your entrance to your clit. Connie quickly caught on and grinned against your neck. “be patient mama imma get to it.” You tried your best to slow your breathing but he was in your ear whispering and touching you. You were getting turned on very quickly. Connie ignored your needy moan and continued on with the teasingly foreplay before he pulled you against his chest and pulled your legs apart opening you up.

Your breath got caught in your throat when you saw your pink insides and Connie staring holes into mirror. “Look at this pretty pink pussy…so wet is that all for me?” You were quick on nodding your head. “I know.” He took his hand and rubbed his fingers up and down your slit slowly, killing you on the inside. He rubbed your clit for a beat before sliding his thick fingers in. Your pussy was already clenching onto him. “Ah-mm please go faster” you moaned. He nodded before he stroked his fingers deeper hitting your spot. Your eyes rolled shut and leaned your head back on his shoulder. “That feel good? Tell papa let me hear you.” You tried your best but only a pathetic whine was heard. That was good enough for him..for now. He pulled his fingers from you and placed them in his mouth sucking your cum off. “Why’d you stopp?” Your spoiled ass whine kicking your foot up a little. He chuckled and flipped your around so you were facing him. “Cuz I want you to cum on my dick not my fingers now stop whining.” He pulled his sweatpants down and his dick strung out, it’s tip was pink and wet with prenut.

“Come get up on it mama.” He pulled you up higher so you were above him and rubbed his tip up and down your slit before dipping in your sweet warm pussy. Your eyes widened from the shock it had only been a few days since he had given you dick but it was so big to you that you didn’t think you’ll ever get over the shook of his tip sliding in. “P-pa- ehhh” he looked up at you seeing the look of discomfort on your face. “I know it’s all the way in.” He said before slamming you down on it. “Oh fuck! Oh fuuuuckkk!” You moaned placing your hand on his shoulders trying to balance yourself but that was all thrown off because he started thrusting from up underneath you.

You gasped loudly grabbing his shoulders. “Waitt papa wait!” He smirked and thrusted harder, his dick hitting your g spot perfectly everyday. Your finger nails gripped into his strong tattooed arm.

“Yeahhh I’m getting in that pussy huhh mama” he said his voice raspy and deep, his tongue folded on his bottom lip. Your pussy was so tight and gripping his dick so good. You nodded your head already feeling out of it.

“Tell me how it feel baby…tell daddy.”

“Good, feel good daddyy.” You whine trying to sit up to ride him, you got up on your toes and laid your hands on his torso, he grinned big watching you “you gon ride like a big girl? Oh you acting outta character today princess.” You giggled but as soon as you sunk down you quickly remembered why you didn’t ride him often. “Go ahead you can do it baby.” You slowly but surely begin going quickly hitting deeper than before. Your knees knocked together when it started getting a little to deep and good.

“Gimme it! Gimme that daddy dick papa please I been a good girl promise!” You went on and on.

“Get it than mama you in control right now.” Connie said through small groans, you shook your head you wanted to keep going but all your strength was getting zapped. You fall onto his chest shaking like a leaf, his dick popping out. “Aw princess I thought you was gonna be a big girl and take it?” Connie chuckled smacking your ass making you jump a little.

“Papa I tried it’s just so hard and my legs aren’t that strong.” You pouted.

“That’s ok, that’s why I go to the gym.” He chuckled and picked you up by your legs and put his dick back in.

He Bounced you up and down, your loud wails were surely heard by the neighbors but Connie couldn’t give a fuck he was making his pretty girl feel good and that all that mattered to him…and you. You felt like you were in a whole different dimension you were hearing color and seeing sounds, your eyes felt like they were permanently crossed.

Connie loved your fucked out face, the drool and tears making you even prettier.

“M’ gonna nut daddy please don’t wanna make a mess on the floor waitt!” You sobbed, Connie ignored you and pounded harder because that’s exactly what he wanted.

“I know baby I know gimme that juice it’s okay daddy will clean it up.” He smiled gripping your face with one hand and the other holding you up, he placed a sweet kiss on your lips.

You whined against his lips and let it all out on his dick and floors. “There we gooo, mhmm.” He groaned rubbing his pink tip up and down your slit making your cum fling all over the both of you. You placed your face in his neck embarrassed hearing the loud splashing sounds. He smiled and waited to until your breathing evened out before setting you down on his bed. “You gonna suck daddy up?”

“Mhmm” You hummed giving him the prettiest smile before bringing his dick up to your lips.

“Daddies need to get spoiled too sometimes.”

#connie x black y/n #connie x black reader #aot connie #connie smut #connie springer #connie x you #connie x reader smut #connie x y/n #aot x y/n #aot x black reader #aot x reader #aot smut #aot fanfiction #Connie

798 notes · View notes

bkgml · 1 year

Text

more exes to lovers bc i LOVE!! but this time angsty-er 😈 into fluff tho bc i just can’t resist!

“hey…” bakugou spoke into the phone, trying not to get choked up.

“bakugou..? what is it? whats wrong?” you said cautiously.

he sighed upset and a little thankful at the fact you could read him so clearly.

“i’m at the hospital, something went wrong when i was fighting the villains. i-“ he couldn’t take this; feeling so weak and helpless.

“they said i wasn’t allowed to drive home and i don’t want my shitty friends seeing me all fuckin weak.”

“i’m on my way. just relax okay? you’re strong katsuki we both know it” you say as you put on your shoes and grab your keys.

katsuki sighs a thankful sigh into the phone

“…will you stay on the shitty phone with me?”

you laugh, though you’re not mocking him, he knows you aren’t.

“i’ll stay on the phone, promise. ten minutes away, okay?

katsuki sighs again, feeling awful that you had to get out of bed in the middle of the night for someone you thought you were done with months ago.

“hey… just want you to know i don’t regret… us. only regret is the way we ended.”

you pause, worried you shouldn’t give into him.

“i know.” you say.

he sighs again. why are you making him sound so venerable dammit!

“do you..? you know, regret it- us?”

this is happening too fast, you can’t just forgive him this quickly. it’s been 4 months. you were moving on (you weren’t but you’re trying).

“i’m almost here.”

bakugou knows asked one too many questions too fast.

“okay…”

“i just pulled in where are you?”

bakugou gets into the car. he’s bruised and beaten. there’s a cast on his arm and he’s covered in soot. the cut on his lip you saw him with on the news last week has split open and he has a black eye.

“i’m here.”

you inhale shakily, reaching out and brushing some ash off his forehead.

“what happened to you?” bakugou has only heard your voice this small and timid once: the day he broke up with you.

“told you, stupid villains.”

you clear your throat. brushing away any feelings attempting to bubble up to the surface.

“fine. let’s get you home then.”

“fine.” you scoff and bakugou immediately regrets his tone. this is why you broke up with him, he thinks. this attitude he has. the silence is loud the rest of the ride home.

“this is it, right?” you say, still a little peeved at his tone from before.

“yeah.”

the two of you get out of the car.

bakugou knows he shouldn’t say what he’s about to say. this is why you left. his brain just wants him mouth to listen to him for once.

“well goodnig-“ “-do you want to come in?”

you stop stunned.

“bakugou-“

“listen i’m not doing what you think, i’m not trying to get sex out of this i swear.”

you pause, still processing.

“that’s not what i’m worried about.” you state.

bakugou waits confused.

“then what?”

“i’m worried that i’m going to go in there and you’ll have a shower and come out smelling all nice and you’ll put on those sweatpants i like with no shirt. then you’ll ask to hold me ‘just for tonight’. and you’ll kiss my hair and rub my back, and i’ll be head over heels for you all over again.” you breathe out.

“i don’t deserve this, katsuki. you’re just going to mess it up all over again and i cant go through this cycle a million times before we realize that we just don’t work right now. it’s not the right time for us. no matter how much we want it to be.”

you’re both tearing up at this point. he had no idea you could read him this well.

“i’m sorry, baby.”

“please don’t call me that.” you choke on your words. you knew you shouldn’t have come over here.

bakugou wipes his face, trying to compose himself, to not let the tears fall.

“i want to make this work. i don’t want to tiptoe around you and pretend i’m not the mean guy who hurt you. i want to be able to call you stupid fucking nicknames again without care and i want to make you laugh again.”

wow. he’s really not making this easy for you. you sigh before speaking.

“how about… you try again in a couple weeks. maybe i’ll let you call me a ‘stupid fucking nickname’ again.” you say in your best bakugou impression.

“a couple weeks, huh?”

“mhm. too long of a wait for you?” you tease, starting to fall back into your old ways.

“it’s never too long for you…. dumbass.” he tests the waters with a nickname he gave you before you started dating. one that makes his words seem a little less vulnerable from his perspective.

you laugh. a real fuckin laugh that he hasn’t gotten to hear in forever.

“alright… ‘dumbass’.” you say, still laughing.

“a couple weeks?” he asks.

“yes, a couple weeks.”

“okay…” he doesn’t want to leave your side but he won’t push you just yet.

“night.” he turns on his heel and gets his keys.

“g’night… ‘dumbass’.” you say, sending yourself into another fit of giggles and getting in your car.

as you drive off katsuki is grinning to himself.

the night turned out all right after all.

EEEEK you guys!! my first angsty post! and i made this little divider thingy with dynamy! i think it’s so cute personally i hope you like. :)

#bakugou fluff #bakugou x yn #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou katuski x reader

1K notes · View notes

ponderingmoonlight · 9 months

Text

Lies in the dark

Pairing: boyfriend!Gojo x reader

Word Count: 3,8k

Synopsis: You received pictures of Satoru cheating on you, his longtime girlfriend, with other women. Completely heartbroken you leave him without hearing his side of the story. After weeks of drowning yourself in alcohol, the two of you meet again at Jujutsu High.

Warnings: cheating, language, use of alcohol/drugs, hurt

Your foot tabs against the floor while you wait for his puny figure to arrive in the doorframe. By now it’s far after midnight, actually you are dead tired from all the crying and thinking. But this can’t wait.

“Oh, what a pleasant surprise! I didn’t expect you to be awake this late!”

There he stands, casually taking off his blindfold while blessing you with his best cheeky grin. Satoru’s sight alone makes your gut twist in anger and disgust. He really has some nerves to welcome you like that after all he has done.

“You’re pretty late.”

Your voice sounds so cold that Gojo’s blood freezes in his veins. His smile is washed away in an instant, he has never seen you like this. Has something happened? Are you upset for some reason?

“Why do you look like someone died? I’m home, sweet thing!”

Your emotionless eyes glare at him through the darkness of the apartment. Damn, how could you fall for him and his stupid little game? Did you really believe him when he told you that you are the only one, the one and only woman in his life? Fuck, you were so dumb. Too stupid to realize that it isn’t work that makes him come home this late at night. Your mind is numb to the feeling of being betrayed, it isn’t the first time that you get screwed. But you thought that Satoru is somehow different, that he values your feeling more. Well, so much for that.

“Maybe you’re so late because you were with her, huh?”

He glances at you like he has to think about your words, eyebrows narrowed.

“Who do you mean exactly? Mei is out of town. Oh, I visited Shoko because she patched a student back together, but that was in the afternoon. Or was it? I don’t remember exactly…“

Enough of that bullshit. You don’t offer him any more words, instead you just throw your phone at him. The phone that reveals countless messages about meetings, fucking and mocking with other women, pictures of him caressing their basic faces in the way you knew all too well, giving them the affection late at night that you craved so much. And then the words of the woman that called you earlier…

“When he called me sweet thing I thought I was the only one for him until I saw you two on the streets the other day. He never mentioned he had a girlfriend!”

“I began investigating and as it seems, he had a thing with many other women as well. I’ll send you screenshots of every conversation we’ve had the last couple months.”

Sweet thing. The thought of him using your nickname for other woman makes you want to break down and cry. But even though your heart is shattered into a million little pieces, you refuse to gift him a single tear. No, he doesn’t deserve your agony. He doesn’t deserve to see the feelings you have for him. Instead, you just stare at him with blank eyes while sitting in your chair and watching his blue orbs widen in shock.

“(y/n)”, he breathes out, gaze wandering from the screen to you.

“Let me explain-“

“No need to explain anything. I don’t care about how much I liked you and wished this wasn’t true. I told you I’ll leave you alone if you make me feel this way. And I’m fucking leaving, Gojo. Don’t you dare follow me. Y’know, I’m not your backup plan, good luck with whatever you got going on.”

With a swift motion, you lift yourself off the chair and grab your already packed suitcase.

“You can’t leave without hearing my side! I never cheated on yo-“

“Might be true that there’s always two sides to a story. Fuck your weak ass side tho. I’m done here.”

Heels clicking against the hard floor underneath your feet, you confidently cross the room and expand yourself in front of him. Satoru’s huge frame blocks the door, you can’t just get past him. But you need to get out of this apartment filled with dreadful memories and your shattered hopes as soon as possible before you have a complete breakdown.

“I’m serious Gojo.”

“It’s baby for you.”

“Bet she calls you that too. Get away from the door, we are done.”

“(y/n), hear me out”, his form moves towards you, like a predator approaching its prey.

No, you can’t. You don’t want him to get that close to you. You can’t stand him near you.

“Stay away from me”, you choke out, arms wrapped around yourself in a desperate attempt to console your own aching heart.

“I loved you for 8 years, 8 fucking years Satoru! I gave you everything I had and you trampled on that by fucking another woman so basic that I want to throw up. I have nothing more to say to you, it’s enough that I have to endure the sight of you at every damn meeting of jujutsu sorcerers. Now get.out.of.the.way.”

Your cruel words make even Satoru’s heart jump in agony, his shaky breath fills the air. Do you really want to break up with him without giving him the chance to explain himself? He has so much to say, so much to clarify. Fuck, he could end all this madness and your suffering. But it doesn’t matter. He has no choice but to let you go for the moment. Satoru knows you well enough to be aware of the fact that you won’t listen to him in your wrath, always suborn and confident. Apart from that, he himself has no idea who sent these messages to you and where these pictures come from. He has to investigate the matter first before he can face you again. As much as his whole body struggles against it, he takes a step to the side in order to let you go for the moment.

“I love you with all my heart and I’ll do anything to prove that you are the only one for me.”

Boom.

You close the door behind you noisily. Enough of that lying. You stumble into the fresh air of the night, tears pooling your eyes and taking away your sight. Get a hotel, take a hot shower, turn off your phone. Get over the fact that your boyfriend of 8 fucking years cheated on you, get over the fact that your relationship ended in the foulest way. God, it hurts so bad that you want to break down in the middle of the street, your numb limbs still in shock. But you need to get going. After all, you are a grade 1 sorcerer, everyone counts on your abilities. And a man who doesn’t value you shouldn’t be the reason you forget yourself and your aspiration. _________________________________________________________

Hey girl, need a ride to Jujutsu High? Meeting up in 15 min

You sign at the message of Mei on your phone. It’s been three weeks. Three weeks without seeing Satoru’s cheating face, three weeks in which he called you at least 10 times a day, three weeks of constant crying in the pillows of random hotels and filling yourself up with alcohol at clubs around the town. You feel like crap and look even worse from time to time. But today, you have to get yourself together. For the sake of your job, for the other people you care about like Mei and Nanami. Do all of them know what happened? Probably not, you only told Mei about it and Satoru would hardly admit that he cheated on you multiple times.

Do I really have to?

Your white uniform lies untouched in your suitcase, memories of last mission flood your mind. You were with him, laughing, playing, clapping the asses of multiple curses all at once. Everything was fine, everything was great. Life can change so quickly.

Of course you have to, dumbass.

But you have no other choice. With trembling fingers, you put on the white dress with long sleeves and cut outs that emphasize your curves so well and caught the attention of Satoru first. It fits a little looser than usual. Well, given the fact that you mostly live on drinks that’s no surprise. You put on your round sunglasses to hide the dark circles under your eyes which can be no longer covered by makeup and brush through your hair a few times. Admittedly, you look better than the last few weeks, but definitely worse than usual.

Your cream colored heels click against the marble floor of the hotel lobby as you walk outside, Mei’s car already waiting for you.

“You look better than I thought”, she comments when you sit beside her.

“Thanks I guess, gold digger.”

She gives you a small smile before her eyes get serious again.

“I’m here for you today, ‘kay? Might hire someone who kills him though…”

“You would spend money for me? Damn, you must really like me Mei”, you remark sarcastically.

“I’d do anything for you girl. Let’s get this over with, huh?”

The journey goes by far too quickly for your taste, fingertips already shaking at the thought of seeing his stupid pretty face again. What was he doing all this time? Your gut twists in agony. Probably went out with his other women, what else? Do you seriously think he missed you? That breakup doubtless hurt you ten times more than him. His face will wear the same stupid grin as always, his words will sound just as irresponsible as usual. Everything stays the same. Except for the fact that you aren’t by his side anymore.

“God, since when is this ass so punctual”, Mei hisses.

And there he stand, wearing his sunglasses and uniform, leaned against the doorframe while he probably drives Utahime mad with his mocking. Suddenly you are out of breath, lungs refusing their service as your eyes fill with salty tears again. No, you can’t cry now. You were so cool when you left him. He doesn’t deserve your tears or to see your pain. His cheating ass isn’t worth your throbbing.

“Keep it cool”, Mei speaks out with low voice.

Yes, you need to keep it cool. Straighten your back, swing your hips, show him that you don’t care about him at all.

“What’s up everyone”, you snort out, hand resting against your hips while eyeing everyone except Satoru.

“Wow, you’re early. Since when do you come on time?”, Nanami dryly responses.

“Why so rude, Kento? I thought you’d be happy to see me again, we are best friends since school after all!”

“You are a pain in the ass, (y/n).”

Fuck, you can feel his eyes almost eating you up. Your cheeks begin to burn just by the thought of it.

“Are you alright, (y/n)? You look a little thinner than last time”, Utahime comments, turning away from Satoru.

You swallow hard, panic rises inside your chest. For the first time, you don’t want everyone’s attention on you. Come on, just that meeting. An hour and you’re rid of him, an hour and you’re holed up in a random club again.

“You’d lose some weight too if you were me, Utahime. Now stop looking at my perfect ass and get going.”

Your remark catches everyone off guard, especially Satoru and his guilty conscience. For your standards, you look absolutely horrible and your answers have lost their bite. You are just the shell of yourself that slightly smells like alcohol.

“Hey, if there’s something going on…You know we can talk, right?”, Nanami discretely murmurs into your ear, worry lines draw his face.

“Thanks man, I don’t need anybody but myself though.”

And with that, you turn on your heels and walk through the door. Away from his hungry sight, away from their annoying questions. One damn meeting to get over with. One.damn.meeting.

“You look like shit”, Masamichi notes dryly while watching you sit down.

“Stop being so fucking annoying or I’ll quit”, you bark back, glaring at him through the shade of your glasses.

“What’s up your ass, (y/n)? You’re annoying as hell, but in another way. Are you alright?”

You can’t take it anymore. All the questions and fucking looks. As if the slight change of your appearance is the only thing that’s interesting at the moment. Yeah, you are as fine as you can be, on the brick of tears, mind racing just by the thought of Satoru looking your direction, let alone talk to you. But that’s none of anyone’s business. If you have to repeat one more time what happened a few weeks ago you’ll probably break down.

“Stop asking questions and get this meeting over with, I’m not payed enough to be here”, Mei interrupts and positions herself beside you.

It’s all a blur. The words that come out of his mouth seem to fade away before hitting your ear. All you can think about is Satoru who sits towards you, eyes darted on your figure. You don’t have to look at him to be aware of the fact that he is eyeing you up and down, waiting for a chance to talk to you.

Over the last couple of weeks, he tried to call you multiple times, not scared by the fact that you blocked him on every possible communication way the slightest. Why does he have to keep rubbing salt in the wound? The moment your phone rings and his name appears on the screen, you relive the fateful moment of realization over and over again, imagining him fucking another woman mercilessly while you sit at home and wait for him to come back. You know that you are too good for that, that the best thing you could do was leaving his cheating ass as soon as possible. But in your lonely nights when returning from a random club after talking to random strangers you find yourself lying in bed and cry your heart out over the relationship you thought was the best thing that could have happened to you.

“(y/n)?”

“Ayo, you there?”, Mei murmurs into your ear and punches your arms slightly.

You have to blink the pain away, still consumed by Gojo’s presence. Your heart skips a beat. Was someone talking to you?

“I just wish I was somewhere else”, you mutter, eyes directed to the ground.

Fuck, you feel like crying all over again. Why does it have to hurt this bad? Why does he have to be here, eying you up and down as if you were his prey? Why did he have to cheat on you and destroy the live you built together? All of that isn’t fair. You shouldn’t be sitting here, running on drinks with a few hours of sleep a week and a bleeding heart while he seems to be just fine. Your conscience shouldn’t weigh on you when you’re talking to a guy while Satoru is fucking his way through the world.

“(y/n)?”

Your name out of his sinful mouth makes your gut turn in disgust, you feel like throwing up.

“Get my name out of your dirty mouth”, you jeer at him, eyes yanking up to notice that he’s already staring at you with his face all serious.

You can’t take it anymore. With shaky legs you lift yourself up, leaving the room with fast steps. The tears in your eyes start to burn their way through your face and take your sight completely. After all, maybe you aren’t strong enough to simply get over his betrayal. God, you loved Satoru with all your heart. In all these years there was never another guy you even found attractive. You were so loyal, in love and fucking dumb. Too dumb to realize that he in fact does seem to think that you are replaceable.

“Get your ass back in, Gojo. I dare you!”, Mei’s voice threatens from afar.

“(y/n), please hear me out. Give me a chance to explain!”

No, no, no. You can’t bare him near you, let alone hearing your name out of his mouth. You need to leave and never return.

“(y/n)!”

You feel his grip around your left wrist, his touch burning like acid on your highly sensitive skin. God, how often you longed for his touch, to feel his tender fingertips one last time. But this is not right. The thought of his hands caressing you after fondling with other woman makes you want to vomit and burn alive.

“Get your dirty hands off me!”, you cry out, other hand slapping against his cheek at high tempo.

His infinity doesn’t stop your fist from hitting his face with full force. You stare at his motionless figure, breath hanging heavy between the both of you.

“Please, give me a minute to explain. The last few weeks were absolute hell for me and I’ve been dying to see you today.”

Hot tears swell up your eyes once more while agony seems to consume you all over again. Hell for him? What about you? The constant feeling of not being enough, the questions lingering your mind how long this has been going on behind your back, the endless waterfall of tears, not being able to drink enough to forget him.

“You have to be kidding. Tell me you’re not serious about that bullshit. Hell for you? You fucking ripped be apart, Satoru! You throw our life away for sex with a few young chicks! You have no right to be sad about anything!”, you scream on top of your lungs, fighting desperately to escape his scorching touch around your wrist.

“I didn’t cheat on you, (y/n)! I-“

“So I’ve been imagining these pictures of you on top of that slut and the countless messages? Stop this shit right now! You’ve done enough. You-“

“Listen to me, damn it!”, he yells, ruffling his messy hair.

Why? Why does he have to keep rubbing salt in your already throbbing wound? Everything was just fine, you two were inseparable. What about growing old together? What about building a live together? All that, gone in the wind. Just because he decided to fuck someone else.

“The man you see on these pictures isn’t me, I don’t know these women, (y/n). I began to investigate. The man you see is a cursed spirit, a damn strong one that is able to take on the appearance of other living being, including my handsome self. I wish I could tell you why, I wish I could tell you who the hell that woman is. We assume that someone wants to set you off against me so that we both get vulnerable.”

He tears the blindfold from his face, revealing tears that glister in his glossy eyes. Your heart sinks, all you can do is stare at him in a desperate attempt to understand what he’s saying. Can it…be true?

“We?”

“Nanami helped me out. He knows this technical stuff better than I do. (y/n), I would never hurt you like that, not in a million years. You mean everything to me, it kills me to see you hurt like that, even though I absolutely understand why you believed in all of this and didn’t wanna talk with me. Just please, I’m begging on my knees if I have to, give me a chance to find out more about this madness and trust me with this one.”

You don’t know what is happening to you, it feels like you’re going to puke. Is this really true? Did he in fact not cheat on you with these women? His explanation sounds plausible and the shimmer in his eyes tells you that he’s not lying. Satoru was always bad at not telling the truth, his pupils always widen. Not right now though.

You want to collapse on the floor, your head seems to weight a ton from all these emotions, thoughts and possibilities.

“Why didn’t you tell me right from the start?”, you blurt out, voice coated in anger.

“Would you have really listened to me if I had no evidence? I took photos with that thing and couldn’t hold myself back from killing that fucker. Nanami was with me. Please, (y/n). Please believe me.”

You take in the pictures, how there seems to be two Gojo’s in each one. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This is all too much. You don’t know what to think or feel. Is this true? Is there really something like a spark of hope left for your relationship?

“No”, you confirm.

You close your eyes for a moment to organize your thoughts and calm your breathing. All this time, Satoru never showed any interest in other woman, he doesn’t even stay in contact with Mei or Shoko regularly. He has no problem with you using your phone to write messages to Nanami or Yuji when he’s busy with something else. No, since you’ve known him, there was never a cause for concern. Satoru tells you over and over again how much he loves you, sometimes you even thought that he might be obsessed with you.

Maybe he didn’t cheat, maybe he did. But doesn’t your longtime boyfriend deserve a trust bonus, a chance to show you that nothing ever happened between him and these women?

When you open your eyes again, they are pooled by tears. Since that dreadful evening, you never allowed yourself to miss, let alone think about him. You tried to drown your feelings in alcohol and drugs. But now he’s standing in front of you, everything could be fine, all of this could be nothing but a failed attempt to separate the two of you. Deep within, you always hoped for it to be a nightmare, a stupid misunderstanding. Is that all it is?

“I-I thought I’ve l-lost you forever”, you stutter.

He doesn’t hesitate. In an instant he pulls you into his arms, presses your body against his beating heart and trembling frame. God, how much you missed getting lost in his warm embrace, to feel his breath brush against your ears. Just now you realize how much it killed you to be away from him.

“Can’t imagine how much I missed you. The thought of losing you…”, his voice breaks and so does your heart.

“I love you Satoru. I love you more than anything else.”

You get lost against his lips, put all the grief of the last weeks into this one kiss.

“Let’s get home, shall we?”, he whispers against your lips.

“Home. Yeah, that sounds pretty good…”

598 notes · View notes

keisobe · 1 year

Text

: 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 — (𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦 + 𝐥𝐨’𝐚𝐤 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲)

— from avatar 2 : the way of the water (spoiler free!!)

contents. gn! reader, reader is a omaticayan, established relationships, angst, hurt/no comfort, emotional neglect, small kissing scenes, male red flags, the sully brothers being bad boyfriends + wc. 1.1k

notes. okay, so i write a lot of romantic + fluff drabbles of neteyam and lo’ak but i wanted to switch it up and write their red flags because guys are … guys. i realized i wrote a lot more for lo’ak, so i’m sorry about the word count difference between neteyam and lo’ak’s drabbles. enjoy reading some gut wrenching angst ♡

── ✦ 𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐘𝐀𝐌 always put his family first. it was always charming to see him quickly scoop tuk into the warmth of his embrace or aid his mother when her emotions got too overwhelming. the days where you both spent together, making each other beaded jewelry or stargazing always put a smile on your face. until those days were always cut short.

“sorry, dad needs me right now,” neteyam would push you out of his arms, rushing to gear himself with his woven pouch and poisoned arrows. he leaves a chaste kiss onto your cheek and hairline before he sprints into the forest.

it’s his family, it was okay.

“kiri needs my help,” your body felt cold again— watching him sit up as he adjusted his leather belt, storing his hunting knife.

no word was spoken from your lips, instead you replied with complete silence. neteyam didn’t glance away from his scattered belongings— collecting them as fast as he could.

this time there wasn’t a kiss, but only the coldness biting your bare skin— neteyam ran off once again.

okay, this wasn’t okay.

“hey, is everything all right?” his honey glazed eyes shifted from the dusky sky, now gazing at your contorted features.

though you wanted to hold back, lie to his face. the feelings became too overwhelming— you had to tell him.

“no neteyam, nothing is all right,” you sat up, gazing down at the incomplete bracelet that sat limp on your dainty wrist.

“what’s wrong?” neteyam replicated your movements— sitting up as he gently rested his hand on your shoulder.

there was a brief pause, the rustle of leaves filling the silence. neteyam was patient, watching your small movements. a sniffle came from your nose.

“it’s you,” your lips quivered as you said that. “you keep leaving me.”

neteyam shuffled in his seat a bit, a dry chuckle escaping his lungs.

“my family needs me,” he excused, shaking his head at your words. “you know that.”

he would never understand, it made you angry.

you swatted his hand off your shoulder, scooting away from the warmth of his skin— as much as you didn’t want to.

“no neteyam, it’s hard,” you turned your head away from him, tears welled up in your yellow eyes. “it’s like… like you don’t value our time.”

his lips pressed together as he avoided your gaze, thinking about what to say.

before neteyam could reply back, you stood up without ease— swiping off the tears that fell on your arms and knees.

“this time i’ll leave first,” you muttered, escorting yourself into the depths of the darkened forest.

guilt buried deep within neteyam’s gut. he had to make it right, but did he have time to get to you before—

“bro, i really need your help, like right now!” lo’ak’s desperate voice blasted through the speakers of his throat comm.

his eyes glanced back and forth between where you left in the hollow forest to the familiar direction of his home.

slowly adjusting his heavy pouch and clawed knife, neteyam takes a deep breath, turning his thick heels towards the right— back to his home.

family always came first and it’ll always be like that.

── ✦ 𝐋𝐎’𝐀𝐊 lived life on the edge. venturing out when everyone else rested for the night, weaving through the thick veins and feeling sap kissing the bottoms of his feet. there was always a surge of energy when he didn’t stick to the rules— he didn’t feel bound by his family, by the people from his clan. though his risky attempts to sneak off every night led you to be the one always by his side. you just wanted him to be safe.

“lo’ak, you’ll definitely get in trouble for this!” you warned, watching him skip across the tree bark towards an unknown, mossy area that was banned from being entered.

he briskly looked back before taking another leap, a smug smirk planted on his face.

“come on, don’t be such a wuss,” lo’ak shrugged his shoulders, voice sprinkled with utter sarcasm. the tips of your ears burned with frustration but also a tinge of fondness.

when he ran off, you followed.

“don’t hold that lo’ak!” lo’ak waved the heavy gun into the air, his finger lightly settled on the trigger.

after a successful raid, the omoticaya clan celebrated into fits of traditional cheers and clatters of new military artillery were being passed along to a more secure storage area. lo’ak happen to get his hands onto a stray gun left during the raid.

“it’s fine, my dad taught me how to use it,” lo’ak reassured, aiming the gun towards random directions. you let out a sigh, a small smile snuck onto your face.

“lo’ak!” a familiar voice shook your spine.

the olo’eyktan, jake sully, stood tall among the crowd— a scorn tucked into the wrinkles of his face.

quickly, you snatched the gun from lo’ak’s grasp, throwing it down onto the dirt floor as you knelt down. you felt jake’s presence grow near, every nerve in your body felt like needles prickling on your skin.

you picked up the gun, raising your head high to meet jake’s hard glare.

“this was a stray gun, someone probably dropped it while it was being passed,” you explained, gently handing the gun to jake.

lo’ak didn’t say a word, silently observing you deceive his father.

jake simply nodded, fishing off the gun from your grasp— walking off towards a group of fellow clan members to continue the formation.

“thanks,” lo’ak smiled, kneeling down himself to give you a tight back hug. the two you erupt into relieved laughter, a plethora of kisses adorned your face and shoulders.

when he’s in trouble, you covered for him.

“what is the meaning of this?”

neytiri and jake eyed both of you in disappointment— watching the fiddle of your fingers and the way your eyes darted with nervousness. once again, lo’ak ventured out into the forbidden parts of the forest, forcing you to accompany him. both of his parents caught you in the middle of the act, dragging you back home without a word.

“it was me,” you raised your hand, looking deeply into lo’ak’s worried eyes. “i wanted to see what was there, so i forced lo’ak to go with me. it’s all my fault.”

neytiri pouted at your explanation, glancing at jake for his insight. with a silent agreement, they both nodded their heads.

“then you’re banned from hunting for a week,” jake announced, the color in your face vanishing completely.

lo’ak flinched at his father’s words, his lips parted— but nothing came out.

though you took the blame, you wanted lo’ak to at least defend you— maybe even confess to all his rebellious behavior that put you in so many difficult situations.

neytiri walked over to you and firmly latched onto your arm, escorting you back into your tent.

you looked back to lo’ak, but he never met your eye.

when he’s silent, you took the blame for him, but he couldn’t bring himself to say a word.

#✩.*˚ — ina’s works🎂#ੈ♡˳ — (atwow) 📁#— ౨ৎ ࣪ . ⊹ : drabbles #— ౨ৎ ࣪ . ⊹ : hcs #* ੈ♡˳ — (neteyam sully) 🎞️#* ੈ♡˳ — (lo’ak sully) 🎞️#neteyam sully #neteyam #lo’ak sully #lo’ak #neteyam x reader #lo’ak x reader #lo’ak sully x reader #neteyam sully x reader #avatar the way of water #avatar imagine #avatar fanfiction #avatar headcanons #avatar 2

2K notes · View notes

averagedemoenjoyer · 6 months

Note

HI HELO could you do demo and sniper w a short significant other (like idk 5ft tall, or whatever you consider short) THHHAANK you

of course!! thank you for requesting this, i should start posting now since the school year has finally finished over here!!

demoman and sniper with a short s/o!!

(gender neutral reader)

demoman:

“hehe yer short >.3”

will 100% tease you for your height, but it’s lighthearted and comes from a place of love so don’t worry

however, if anyone else that isn’t him does that, he gets VERY protective.

and when i say protective, i mean loud and angry protective. he would say something like “aye? yer teasing mah precious wee treasure fur thair height? A’M GONNAE PUMPIN’ MURDURR YE-“

gives you piggy back rides when he’s sober (not while drunk tho, that will end badly)

gives you stupid pet names based on your height. stuff like “me little ant” and “teeny tiny leprechaun”

accidentally lays on top of you when he gets into bed sometimes and he apologises for a week straight afterwards.

he REFUSES to let you wear heels though since he knows how much they hurt feet sometimes (don’t ask how he knows, he just does) platforms are on thin ice

starts calling himself “big lad” at some point to tease you (again, lighthearted so don’t worry)

likes putting his hand on your head and pushing you down towards the ground while yelling “SHRINK” as a joke (based on true events)

sniper:

he loves resting his head against your head when he’s tired and needs attention

since he likes it when you guys are kinda level, he sits you up on a bench most of the time

he ALWAYS grabs stuff from high places for you, even if there’s a ladder/stool around

just like demo, if anyone teases you for your height, he gets protective. the difference being sniper is more quiet about it then demo is.

since he looks so old and you’re shorter than him, people often mistake him for your dad and it’s very embarrassing to explain that he is your boyfriend.

he likes randomly hugging you from behind, but you always notice him because of how tall he is.

he gets extremely flustered when you sit on his lap, but he likes it a lot.

he doesn’t like admitting it, but he loves being the little spoon. so when you cling onto his back like a tiny backpack, it looks very humorous.

he’s afraid of roller coasters so he kinda sees your height as an excuse to go on the kid rides at amusement parks.

he also likes carrying you around places since he finds you quite light

no silly petnames for you from sniper though, unless you REALLY BEG him to give you one. (or you start calling him silly petnames based on his height)

thank you for reading all the way through!! and just a reminder that requests are open, so make sure to read my pinned post to see what i will and won’t do!!

#averagedemoenjoyer #tf2 writing #tf2 headcanons #team fortress 2 #team fortress 2 x reader #tf2 x reader #tf2 x you #tf2 demoman #demoman tf2 #demoman x reader #tf2 sniper #sniper tf2 #sniper x reader

183 notes · View notes

buckyispunk · 6 months

Text

Better Man

Alcoholic!Joel Miller x Reader

masterlist

Summary: Falling in love with Joel Miller is heaven. It's leaving him and forcing yourself to move on that's hard. Inspired by Taylor Swift's "Better Man."

A/N: Very angsty, please don't read if you're not a fan of heartbreak! Huge shoutout to one of my fav authors, @macfrog, for the beta!

Warnings: alcoholism, smoking (cigarettes), Joel yelling and throwing things (he never hurts reader tho), Joel being mean, littering (just for the sake of the fic, please don’t in real life), idrk what else lmk if I'm missing anything please

Word Count: 2.2k

All lyric credit goes to T-Swift!!

Rain beats down against your car window. You watch water droplets roll down the glass. You’ve got the radio on, waiting for the storm to let up so you don’t get soaked on the walk into your apartment. A glint of red from the passenger side floor catches your eye. A carton of Marlboro cigarettes - Joel’s cigarettes. How long had they been there?

You’re walking into the bar with your friends when you see him for the first time, cigarette hanging between his lips. He’s leaning up against the brick wall, clad in faded jeans and a worn flannel. His grey hair is curling at the ends. He takes the cigarette between two fingers and pulls it from his mouth. His broad chest expands as he inhales deeply before blowing a cloud of smoke past his pink lips. Grey wisps linger in the humid Texas air as he calls out to you.

“Hey darlin,’” he drops the cigarette and stomps it under a work boot, leaving a black, ashy stain on the concrete beneath. “‘S a nice outfit,” he nods his chin in gesture, “Can I buy you a drink?”

You had spent the rest of that night curled into his arm in a sticky booth seat, discussing childhood crushes, family trauma, and everything in between. The rest, as they say, had been history. Joel had picked you up the next weekend, flowers in hand and nervous sweat on his brow. His southern charm had you falling for him dangerously quickly. Luckily, he was just as head over heels for you - you could tell by the fascination in his eyes as he hung on to your every word whenever you offered up new information about yourself, like he was a starved man and your words were his sustenance.

I waited on every careless word Hoping they might turn sweet again like it was in the beginning

The day Joel asked you to move in with him was one of the best of your life.

You open the door to his house to find him standing in the entryway, bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand. His other hand is clutching something small, concealing it.

“Hey, hon,” he shifts from foot to foot, “How was work?”

“Fine, babe,” you gesture to the flowers, “What’s all this?”

“I-um,” he scrunches his brows and hesitates for a moment, “so, you’re almost always over here already anyway. I want to spend as much time as possible with you. Want you cuddled up with me in our bed every night. Want to come home to you after a hard day at work. Want to be here to take care of you when you have bad days, too. I love you and I guess what I’m askin’, darlin’, is if you’d move in with me?”

He unfurls his other hand, presenting a key. You quirk a brow in surprise.

“Oh my gosh, Joel,” you stare at him in disbelief as his expression turns into one of nerves and anticipation.

“Yes!” you practically screech, excitement flooding your body.

You run over to Joel and wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face into his strong chest. Joel sets the flowers down on the nearest surface and embraces you with one arm. His other hand lowers to slip the house key into your pants’ pocket.

After that, he had carried you upstairs and made love to you. You fell asleep in Joel’s doting embrace as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. Living with Joel had been everything he’d promised. Until it wasn’t. It had been when he and his crew were working on a particularly rough job that things started to change.

He transitioned from drinking on special occasions or when out with friends to having a beer or two every night with dinner. You didn’t think too much of it at first. It was only when he started downing several glasses of whiskey a night that you got concerned. You asked him about it, wondering why the sudden change. I just need it to help me relax after work, hon. He’d promised you that it wasn’t an issue, this is just a really hard job. He brushed you off every time you’d tried to talk to him about it.

His drinking started to come between the two of you. He would opt to have a beer and watch football rather than spend time or share conversation with you. On nights when there wasn’t a game on, he’d go out to the bar - sometimes with buddies from work, sometimes alone.

He was too tired to take you out, too stressed to do anything more than press a chaste kiss to your lips once in a while. He began to get irritated easily - the two of you found yourself arguing over meaningless things often. It seemed the only time he wasn’t complaining was when he had a drink in his hand. He’d passed out in his recliner watching TV nearly every night during that project. You’d lie in bed and fall asleep waiting for his side of the mattress to dip with his weight, only to wake up the next morning and find him gone for work.

When the project ended and he had some time off, you expected him to lighten up on the drinking. With all the extra time he had, things only got worse. You’d leave for work and he would still be asleep. You would come home every night to find him with a beer bottle in hand and empty ones at his feet.

Talking down to me like I’d always be around Push my love away like it was some kind of loaded gun

One night, you’d tried, for what seemed like the hundredth time, to talk to him about it.

You come home after a long day of work to find Joel snoring in his recliner. He’s wearing boxers and a t-shirt - he hardly ever gets dressed anymore. It’s times like these when you could almost pretend everything is normal. That he’ll hear you and wake up. That he’ll jump up and give you a hug, make you dinner, ask you about work. Instead, you watch a string of drool run down his chin.

You make your way over to him and gently remove the bottle from his hand, setting it on the table. You run a hand through his hair and shake his shoulder, rousing him.

“Oh, hey,” he hiccups.

You can smell the alcohol on his breath. You hear his stomach rumble and wonder whether he’d even bothered to eat anything today.

“Hey, babe,” you muster the most sincere smile you can, foolishly hoping that you might get one in return.

He looks past you and grabs the bottle from the table.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough to drink today, baby? How about I make us some dinner, we can sit and eat together like we used to,” you offer.

You reach to take the sweating bottle from him, but he raises a hand to stop you.

“I jus’ wanted to finish watching the game, babe. How ‘bout t’morrow?” he slurs.

“Joel I really think you should see someone about the drinking. It’s not healthy for you. I love you and I miss you. I want to help you, baby.”

He stands from the chair, grip tightening on his bottle.

“I know my own fuckin’ limits, thank ya very much,” his sharp tone makes you flinch.

“Can you at least eat something? This isn’t good for you.”

“Jesus, will you just leave me alone?” his lips wrap around the opening of the bottle and he turns the bottle up, letting the rest of the alcohol pour down his throat. He turns to walk away from you and you reach a hand out to grab his forearm.

“I’ll make you your favorite dinner, Joel. It’s been months, baby. You said you’d lay off the drinking after the one job, but it’s just gotten worse. You haven’t been working and it’s not healthy for you to stay in the house and drink all day,” you try to reason. “I’ll make dinner for us and we can go to bed together.”

You look into his eyes, searching for a sliver of the man you love. You remember the way he used to look at you as if he would gladly let his heart break into a million little pieces, as long as you were the one shattering it. As if he would do everything in his power, and then some, just to put a smile on your face. As if he would face his demise head on if you were the sight burned into the back of his eyelids as he faded.

Your search is futile. The only thing you find in his dark, bloodshot eyes is something you’re too afraid to call contempt. He lets out an exasperated sigh and mutters your name, “I just want some time to myself. You’re always nagging me about the drinking. It’s not a big deal. I’m just stressed all the time and you’re really not helping. Could you just quit being annoying for once?” He runs a hand through the scruff on his chin.

You drop your hand from his arm as if his skin had scorched you. His words settle like a heavy weight on your chest, keeping you from drawing a full breath. It’s as if his heart holds nothing but distaste for you. You look up at him with watery eyes and try to remember the last time he had even told you he loved you.

“I can’t keep doing this, Joel. I’m going to leave if you don’t get help. Neither of us are happy anymore. Can you please just talk to someone so we can go back to the way things used to be? You can be happy without the alcohol,” you plead with him, trying desperately to reach the Joel that you know is in there somewhere. The Joel you hope is in there, anyway.

“Will you stop it?” his voice is violently angry, “I don’t need fuckin’ help, I just need to be left the fuck alone!” his southern drawl booms throughout the room.

You startle at his sudden outburst, flinching away from him. You feel your eyes overflow, salty tears leaving wet trails down your cheeks.

“Goddamn it,” Joel mutters before turning to the wall. He raises his empty bottle and tightens his fist around it. He pulls his arm back and launches the bottle at the wall. It shatters and sends glass flying everywhere. You stand, watching in shock.

“Joel,” your mouth drops and you step away from him.

Joel has never hit you. Hell, before tonight, he’d never even yelled at you. But the coldness in his eyes and the way he clenches his fist scares you. You turn and make for the door, wanting to leave before things escalate any more. Tears are streaming down your face as you twist the doorknob. You look back at him as you step out of the house. You see him shake his head as he grabs a bottle of whiskey off the shelf and you close the door behind you without another thought.

You stayed at your friend’s house that night, sobbing as she told you to leave him. The next morning, you had stood on your front porch, bones heavy with dread, unsure of what you’d find when you opened the door. When you finally worked up the courage to push the door open, you’d been met with the sight of Joel sprawled face-down on the couch, snoring.

He hadn’t woken as you quietly stepped inside and closed the door behind you. He hadn’t woken as you packed all your belongings into suitcases. He hadn’t woken as you left your house key, along with a tear-stained goodbye note, sitting on the table. He hadn’t woken as you rolled your suitcases outside, packed them into your car, and blocked his number on your cell phone before driving away from Joel. Away from home.

I know why we had to say goodbye like the back of my hand But I just miss you and I just wish you were a better man

You let out a shaky exhale as you pick the pack of cigarettes up off of the floor. You squeeze your eyes shut and wish, for a moment, that things had never changed - that his hand is still splayed out across your thigh and he’s pouting in the passenger seat beside you, I should be the one driving. You’re supposed to be my passenger princess.

After fidgeting with the cardboard box for a minute, you decide that you’re sick of waiting for the storm to let up. You open the car door and step out into the rain. You release the carton and let it fall to the wet ground. Bringing a shoe down on top of the box, you crush it underneath your foot, as if trying to stomp out a flame - as if trying to stomp out the memories the cigarettes had ignited - and watch raindrops roll off of it. Without looking back, you turn and walk inside.

We might still be in love if you were a better man You would’ve been the one if you were a better man.

178 notes · View notes

brooooswriting · 10 months

Note

A very timid Hello from your best customer broko loco anyway hi I'm out of my request block anyway

How about some hurt/comfort with our baby gurl

Tara Carpenter

I had two prompts in mind either Tara having a nightmare about Gf killing R Orrrrrrr It was her killing R (

SPOILER IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN SREAM VI YOU'VE BEEN WARNED

(because she killed Ethan so her subconscious is making her see herself killing R) so R comforts her and reassures her

R getting into a fight when she was taking a stroll with Tara and Sam because some 4ssh0l3$ called our Fav duo murderers so Tara is patching up R afterwards

R taking care of T after the 2nd massacre like bringing her thing (painkillers, snacks, food, cuddles)

Those were my ideas but you can also do whatever you want Idm

Have a good day broko loco <3

Motherfucker

Tara Carpenter x reader

A/n: so I haven’t really been writing lately and I need to get back into it so yeah

“It’s just so much you know” Tara complained as you two and Sam walked around New York City. It was a small tradition you build up as soon as you moved here. You walked around to figure out the best ways through the city, it made Sam feel safer while you and Tara just liked to walk around. Her hand was slipped into yours, fingers carefully intervened.

Tara loved complaining about college during these walks, you loved listening to her and Sam would do anything for her little sister. There were a lot of people who didn’t recognized you guys but some did. Nobody ever said something, you were unsure of wether it was because of sams killer glare or just their common sense but you were happy about it.

You knew them during the attacks in woodsboro but you weren’t with them. At least not until the end, you and Tara kept your little flirt private which was why you weren’t attacked. You only arrived when everybody else was dead, you were at the party and you forgot your phone which was why you turned around. The way Tara broke down into your arms made you believe everything she told you, there was no way that she faked that.

“I know, but you’ll be fine. You’re a fighter through and through and something like college won’t bring you down” you told her, squeezing her hand for good measure. “She’s right, you’re gonna do great” Sam added smiling at her sister before checking the street over her shoulder.

You walked through a small park where a group of three boys, around 22, sat and watched the three of you. You watched them suspiciously, slipping your hand out of Tara’s and instead slipping your arm around her waist to pull her closer. Tara smiled up at you, unaware of the situation while Sam looked out for a man around the corner. You listened carefully, hoping to hear any kind of movement but it was quite for a moment.

“Look, that’s the murderer and her slut sister. I knew I recognized them from somewhere” one of the boys said causing you to slow down. “Fucking murderer. Both of them. They should have ended dead” another one added which made you stop. “I’d still fuck the slut tho” the third one said which finally made you snap. You turned on your heel and stalked over to the group. “What did you just say?!” You nearly screamed out on your way, Tara still standing at the same spot completely confused while Sam had a stare down with the man around the corner.

“What’s your problem huh?” You asked again, stepping up to the one who said he’d fuck Tara. “I could ask you the same thing, why don’t you go away with your two murderer friends?” He asked puffing out his chest, trying to scare you. At every other time you’d probably been scared but not now, now all you could feel was rage. “Say that again and watch what happens asshole” you dared. “They are murderer” the one next to him said. You were quick to punch him straight in the face, his nose immediately started bleeding and his eye started to swell. The one you talked to before drew his arm back but you were quick enough to dodge it, not seeing the third one make his way towards you, his fist landing in your stomach causing you to groan. You turned as quick as you could, your fist landing in his stomach this time before you turned and kicked the other one to the ground.

By now Sam was done with her stare down and finally noticed your fight, “fuck y/n” she mumbled and went to your help but Tara held her back. “She will kill you if you go there, she’s fighting because they called you a murderer and if you hit them it will be contra productive” she explained, it pained her to see you like this but she knew you were strong and she didn’t want Sam to suffer even more.

It took you five more minutes before they finally gave up, your face and hands were bruised and you were spitting blood but you won. “Gosh, you’re so stupid” Tara mumbled as she ran up to you and hugged you, pulling you close to her which caused you to wince. “Are you alright?” Sam asked as she walked closer, wrapping an arm around you shoulder. “M fine. Thanks. Can we maybe go back?” Both of them nodded and turned around to walk back to your apartment.

This time Tara wasn’t holding your hand, she was scared that she’d hurt you. The nervousness and the guilt was radiating off of her, so you wrapped your arm around her waist and pulled her into you which made her calm down. Sam was also somewhere else with her mind but you knew that something like a hug wouldn’t fix that and you knew she wasn’t going to talk about it in front of Tara so you decided to ask her about it later.

When you arrived home Tara immediately ran to the bathroom to get some things for your knuckles, giving you a moment with Sam. “You alright?” You asked her quietly so T wouldn’t hear.

“Yeah, it’s just that… thank you y/n. You protected us and you stood up for us. It was the nicest thing anyone ever did for us so, thanks” she answered squeezing your shoulder before disappeared into her room.

“I got everything that may be helpful. Like gauze, disinfectant, bandaids and some other stuff” she told you, quickly pulling everything out and cleaning your wounds on your hand. You kissed when the disinfectant started to seep into your flesh. The brunette quickly apologized before putting on the band aids.

When your hand was finally cleaned she moved on to your face, focusing on the wound above your eye. This time she warned you before putting on the disinfectant, which made it a bit less worse. You couldn’t help but admire her focused face, the way she bit her tongue and how her brows furrowed. It nearly made you forget about your headache.

“Do you need anything else? I’ll give you some painkillers as soon as you’re in bed and some snacks too” she told you and you smiled before pulling her closer to plant a small kiss on her lips. “Thank you” you said before kissing her another time and another, distracting her from her work.

“Stop, I gotta clean the rest of your wounds and I wanna take a look at your stomach” she giggled when she finally convinced herself to pull away. “And you taste like blood” she added. You smiled sheepishly and kissed her one last time before pulling back.

She sat on your lap as she looked at the cut you had on your lip, her legs on either side of you as she titled your head down to get a better angle. “This Looks okay I guess” she mumbled to herself as her fingers carefully touched the wound. You were getting bored and started to play with the hem of her shirt.

When she was done with your face she moved on to your stomach, there wasn’t really anything she could do about it. It was a bit bruised but there werent any cuts nor any placed that were so sensitive that she should be worried.

You both got changed and laid in bed, Tara made you swallow some painkillers and gave you some of your favorite chips before letting you decide what to watch. She made sure that you iced your hand and your nose, even if it might not be comfortable. She knew that you didn’t like the cold but there was nothing she could do. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” Her voice was soft and still filled with guilt which made you hurt inside.

“T, you know that I did it on my own account right? It’s not your fault or anything. I decided to do what I did” you said as you cuddled closer to her. Her body melting into your which made you melt too. “And even more important, I’d do it again and again because nothing is as important to me as you are” you added and kissed her head.

“I love you, a lot. Not just because of what you did today obviously” she grinned and titled her head up motioning for you to give her a kiss which you did.

“I love you too baby” you grinned as your hand rubbed up and down her back.

#reader insert #brooooswriting #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x you

298 notes · View notes

star-girl69 · 4 months

Text

The Last Time

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

Part One - The Last Time

Part Two - Cowboy Like Me

Part Three - Tomorrow Never Came (coming soon!)

Part Four - Living Legend (coming soon!)

Part Five - Pretty When You Cry (coming soon!)

—-

synopsis: the last night you spend with clarisse before she goes on a quest

a/n: had to put my own take on the clarisse leaving reader behind to go on a quest SORRY Y’ALLLLL this is like devastating fr tho i’m kinda sorry like 😭

The Last Time - Taylor Swift (Feat. Gary Lightbody of Snow Patrol)

warnings: angst, like so much angst i’m gonna say it 5 times, angst angst angst angst angst, angst, hurt comfort and also hurt NO comfort bc i’m evil, kissing, cutesy until it’s not but it never really is, i felt like choosing pain, y’all should start calling me she-devil this is just so mean and evil, swearing, fighting, allusions to death, daddy issues lol, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

June 4, 12:08 PM

It’s a cold summer night. You sneak out of your bed, sheets slipping off of your shaking body, the same memories playing in your mind. It always comes down to this, the nights.

In the dreams, she doesn’t come back to you, and the nights without her are so cold, so lonely, so horrible you can stand it. They’re only in your mind, but they hurt just as bad. It’s not every night you slip into each others beds, but whenever you have a nightmare, you find your way to hers. Whenever she has a nightmare, she finds her way to yours.

You both have nightmares about the same things.

The usual cryptic prophesies, the various monsters you just can’t seem to kill, and losing each other. Demigods die. They die easily. You both know that.

Some people swear off love.

And Clarisse told you she wishes she could, she wishes she could pretend you aren’t her entire heart, but she never had a choice. You are her Achilles heel, her one weakness.

You couldn’t either. You took one look at the beautiful daughter of Ares and never looked back again.

Still, there’s a certain desperation in every demigod relationship. Touches are just a bit tighter, hugs a bit longer. Because you all have lost so much, and you all feel absence heavily. Every time could be the last time.

Your footsteps creek against the porch of the Ares cabin. You open the door only a crack, slipping in silently the way you always do, avoiding the creaky floorboards.

Clarisse is awake in her bed, the corner of the cabin. She’s staring at the moon fiddling with her fingers. You frown, but Clarisse turns to you.

You’re sure you look as wrecked as you feel.

“Oh, baby,” she murmurs. “C’mere, what happened?”

You always ask each other, but you both know.

You crawl towards her, sitting in between her legs, arms around her neck, head pressed to her chest. She holds you up so you don’t have to. You can’t, not right now.

She kisses your forehead and her hand smooths down your hair.

“You went on a quest,” you whisper. You miss the way she stiffens. “You didn’t come back.”

She doesn’t tell you she’s not going on a quest. She doesn’t tell you she’s going to come back.

“I’m here,” she says. “Do you feel my heart? I’m here, and I feel yours. It’s beating so fast, baby, you have to take a deep breath.”

Tears well in your eyes. You dig your nails into her soldiers.

“Oh, Gods, please don’t leave me,” you cry.

She doesn’t tell you she won’t.

“I’m here, I’m here right now. I’m here right now, listen to my heart, baby, listen to my heart.”

Clarisse swallows back the bile in her throat. She tries not to lie to you, she tries. But sometimes, on cold summer nights when you find your way into her bed, and she doubts you’ll remember this in the morning-

“I’ll always be here, Y/N. I’ll always be here.”

—-

June 11, 5:46 PM

If you thought the nights without Clarisse were bad, then the days are even worse. You miss her. You never realized how much she was there, silently, always watching, not until you told her to stay away from you.

You sit at the dinner table, the sun setting. Most of your siblings have left- but you’re here with May, sitting there as she watches you like a hawk and interrogates you.

“You haven’t been the same. Not since, like, last week. And something happened with Clarisse, it’s obvious. I gave you a few days because I thought you were just having a fight, but you’re not.” She sighs and grabs your hands. “What happened?”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” you dismiss. She stares at you with such heartbreak in her eyes.

May is the sibling you’re by far the closest with- you like similar things, and people sometimes think you’re actual full-blooded siblings because you look so alike. She was the first person you ever met at Camp Half Blood, and after Clarisse, she’s the first person you run too. But now that Clarisse is leaving, and she’s already gone, May is all you have left.

You squeeze her hands. Your best friend, you want to tell her, but saying the words aloud makes them real.

She’ll find out tomorrow.

—-

June 8, 10:57 AM

She tells you privately, she smiles softly and leads you into the woods, she holds your hands and touches your face and kisses you like she’s not about to break your heart.

“Why are you bringing me out here?”

You know her like your own mind. You spend so much time with Clarisse, next to her, it’s like you have a window to her heart tattooed on your arm. You know, even when she doesn’t want you to.

“I just have something to tell you. And I wanted privacy.”

She doesn’t tell you it’s not a bad thing.

Your stomach sinks and you hold her hand tighter, and even though she’s about to break your heart she kisses your cheek and squeezes your hand.

“Just you and me, pretty girl. I just wanna talk, okay?”

She leads you to a clearing with a beautiful view of the strawberry fields and you smile, sitting down and letting your face feel the sun. You can feel her looking at you, but the beauty of this place and each other only blinds the two of you temporarily.

“Okay, what do you have to tell me?”

There’s stones in your stomach. Your heart is squeezing, you can physically feel the tension and anticipation in your organs.

You look in her eyes and you pray to every God that it’s nothing.

“I love you, you know that?”

Clarisse never says I love you, and your stomach twists more.

“Of course I know.”

She lays down on her back and opens her arms. She sighs when you lay your arm over her stomach, head on your chest. Her hands grip onto you tight.

She doesn’t speak for another minute, like she’s just soaking you and the sunshine up, like it’s the last she’s ever gonna get.

“Chiron… a week ago, I think, he called me to the Big House.” You hum, staring at the treetops. “Him and Mr. D… they… uh.”

“You can tell me,” you pretend you aren’t scared.

“A quest,” she blurts. “They have a quest for me.”

“Oh,” you mumble, stupidly.

A quest could mean a million different things. It could be an errand for Chiron and Mr. D, or it could be something preordained by the Fates.

She could have a choice or she could not.

“It’s three children of Ares. It’s about some sort of ancient blood feud between my father and- it doesn’t matter. But it- it doesn’t look good-”

You sit up. She follows you, eyes wide, hands splaying around where your body used to be on hers.

“‘It doesn’t look good’? Clarisse, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

She grabs your hands. “It’s dangerous, like any quest-”

“It’s not like any quest though, is it?”

She presses her lips together. “No. No, it’s not.”

“You didn’t accept it, did you?”

She stares into your eyes.

She looks so pretty today, her hair half-up half-down. Her eyes always shine so brightly in the sun- they reflect it. Sunny days with her make your heart squeeze, because it always looks like she’s got suns for eyes.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I am-”

You tear your hands away from her.

“Why- why would you- Oh, my Gods, Clarisse, why would you do this?”

You cry, and she reaches for you, her face twisting into something painful. But how can she expect you to run to her when she’s the one hurting you?

“Just- just not right now. Not until the 13th, let’s just have this together, okay?”

“How, Clar, how?”

She grabs your hands and doesn’t let you pull away.

“My father asked for me, he asked for me. I have to go. I can’t refuse my father, Y/N-”

You rip your hands away. “He doesn’t care about you, Clarisse. But I do. I care about you.”

She rubs her temples with one hand, the other still reaching for you, eyes screwed shut.

“Please don’t be like this. Don’t be selfish, I have to this. He asked for me, Y/N. This is such a huge step-”

“A huge step to him loving you? He’ll never love you. Our parents will never love us, because they’re incapable of caring about us. But you have me, Clarisse. You have me, and I love you so much-”

“You don’t know that,” she whispers. “You don’t know they can’t love us.”

“And neither do you.”

She reaches out to touch the tears falling down your face.

“Clarisse, please,” you cry. “I’m here. I’m always here, and just- just don’t put your father over me, please don’t, not anymore-”

She grabs your face. “I’m not going to choose between you and him.”

You’re full on sobbing now, and Clarisse never cries, but just the look on her face at seeing you cry makes you cry more.

“But I’m here, Clar, I’m here, I’ve always been here, please-”

She shushes you and tries to hug you, but you can’t, not when your mind is spinning to fast, not when you want nothing more than to be in her arms because you know if she just holds you then you’ll shut up and forget. But you can’t, you can’t, not this time.

Not when all the pieces are sinking together.

The only time you see her is when you sneak into each others beds, dates in the woods, secret looks across the courtyard, pulling each other into the bathrooms or sheds or something to make out.

You needed her so bad you didn’t realize that you were never first. You didn’t care, but at least she was still there.

“Did you even think about me when you said yes?”

She tries to hug you again. You stand on shaky legs.

“Y/N,” she whispers, half-broken, half-disbelief. “Don’t do this.”

“I just need a day,” you say, but you both know what this means.

She laughs, runs her hand through her hair.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this. Fuck, I know it’s not perfect, we’ve never been perfect, but I need you right now. Don’t walk away. Don’t be like that.”

“And if I asked you not to walk away? If I asked you not to be like that?”

“I’m not being like anything!” she yells. “You’re the one who’s being a selfish brat.”

You cross your arms and look at her. You want the ground to swallow you whole. You want to jump into her arms and never leave.

“Don’t, okay. Just don’t. Stay, and we’ll talk, I’ll try, you know I’m not good at this but I want to try, we have to try for us.”

“Clarisse, there’s no us anymore. You’re leaving.”

“Not until the 13th, Y/N. We could have something so good if we just… pretend.”

You could play pretend with her for hours. You could be married and you could live in a place where no monsters can touch you, where there’s no one to hide from. Where there’s no memory of her father, no axe hanging over you.

“I don’t want to pretend. I want you.”

But it’s Clarisse. It’s the girl you love, and you’re young so you believe you can fix this.

“Don’t go,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest.

You’re both glaring at each other, stupid teenage girls who fell in love too hard too fast, and now you’re scrambling at the world changes around you. You love her so much, but you finally realized that she doesn’t care about you, you’re her secret, and you haven’t had a backbone for so long but you will have one now.

“He asked for me. I already accepted. I need you right now, so stop being selfish and accept it.”

“How am I being selfish? How am I being selfish for not asking you to kill yourself? For asking you to put me first, for once?! You never put me first. I see that now. You never-”

She scoffs. “We both know that’s not true.”

“But I don’t, Clar. I don’t know that’s not true. So tell me, show me, make me believe it’s not true-”

She crosses the distance between you, even though it feels like a thousand miles, and plants her hands on your face. She kisses you, she kisses you like she loves you but not enough to stay.

But you kiss her back. You kiss her back, because she’s the love of your life. You’ll always come back like a kicked dog, like a ball on a chain. You’ll always come back to her like you go back to your bed each night- mindlessly, wordlessly, because it’s routine. Because you sleep in your bed and you need sleep to live, you need her to live.

She pulls back, breathing heavily against your lips.

“You are the only person who matters to me.”

Your grab her wrists and take her hands off your face. She tries to resist you, keep touching you, but it’s halfhearted because she’ll always end up doing the little things that you want.

“Only because the Gods aren’t people.”

“Y/N, stop.”

“Why do you go back to him? Why? Again and again, you go back even though he feels nothing for you- and you know it-”

She steps back, takes your hands off of her wrists.

“I-I’m sorry,” you breathe, you see the hurt on her face. “I didn’t mean it, I didn’t, it’s just, I love you-”

She blinks and stares at you like you just broke her favorite toy.

“I-I should go.”

You want her to say something, you want her to protest, you want her to kiss you again.

“Maybe you should,” she agrees. “Before we both say more things we’ll regret.”

Her face twists back into what she lets everyone else see, that hard mask of indifference, of cruelty and ruthlessness.

How can she hold you so tenderly and look at you like this? How can you pretend you’re still the girl she loves when the fog clears and you realize what you said?

“Yeah.”

You turn and leave the clearing, you can’t look at her hurt face anymore, tears streaming down your face. Clarisse stays there. You swear you hear the sound of muffled crying.

—-

June 12, 3:46 PM

Chiron announces the quest. It’s dangerous, that’s what he says, and he didn’t want to cause commotion in the camp by letting it come to light.

Are you horrible for wishing you had found out now? You would have had this untainted time with Clarisse. You would have loved her. You wouldn’t have had to pretend, because it would be real.

She’s selfish at every turn. She only tells you when it’s convenient for her to tell you, when she knows it’ll ruin it, ruin you, and lose this time together.

Her and her siblings stand next to Chiron.

She stares at you the entire time, and you don’t look at her once.

May hugs you when she hears, and you don’t speak, because how can you speak when everything is wrong? Everything is broken?

The mirror is broken, and what you thought you saw is no longer there. You only see your shattered self.

—-

June 13, 12:38 PM

You lasted maybe 20 minutes. You went to bed early, slept fitfully for a few hours, and woke up gasping about another nightmare- the same one you had the last time you slipped into Clarisse’s bed. You barely remember the nights you have nightmares, but you always know you go to her bed and she holds you, tells you it’s alright.

The dream, anxiously waiting for her to come back, spending your nights alone but warmed by anticipation and hope- and she just doesn’t. She doesn’t, and it all becomes dark and dull in the dreams and they turn into nightmares.

You cry and you scream and you curse the Gods for not bringing her back to you, but no one can hear you. You’re laying in your bed screaming and your siblings are gone, you know Clarisse is, and you feel so alone.

Feeling so alone it makes your bones shaking is terrifying. And you should be used to it. But you got used to Clarisse and her warm body. You got used to her touches, her words, the way she made you feel even just being in her bed- you could always sleep in her bed because she was there.

After she leaves, would anyone notice if you snuck into her bed? Would anyone notice if you laid your head on her pillow and pretended it was her chest? Would anyone notice if you slept in the shirts she left behind?

You last 20 minutes staring at the ceiling before you’re up.

You don’t care if Chiron will catch you. You don’t care if the entire camp will see you, you never did, but a private relationship was nice. It was yours and hers and no one else’s.

Private is different from secret.

Your feet sink into the soft grass, wrapping your arms around yourself, legs freezing in a cold breeze. You stop, looking at the Ares cabin.

The Ares cabin is just a house full of the best fighters at camp. Everyone looks at it and feels a little safer. You look at it and feel safer.

You’re filled with dread but you don’t care, because you know she’ll let you in, you know she’ll let you into her arms.

The door to the Ares cabin whips open.

Clarisse is there, feet turned left, toward you and your cabin behind you.

She stops and stares.

“Sorry,” you breathe. “It’s your last night, and I…”

“I know,” she says.

You step forward, all you want is to forget, all you want is one more peaceful night. As soon as you step up onto the porch Clarisse grabs you and pulls you in tight for a hug.

Her hands are spread wide across your shoulder blades, her body is pressed to yours, her head hooks over your neck.

“You’re so cold,” she whispers, because that’s all you can say when you don’t want to talk about the things that really matter. Of course she’s warm. She’s like your own personal heater, always warm and always comforting.

She lets go after a moment, hesitantly, but winds your fingers into hers. She leads you to your bed, you avoid the freaky floorboards better than her-

“I never have to be quiet in here,” she whispers. “It’s funny.”

You hum, she urges you onto her bed and climbs in behind you. You face the wall, breathing in heavily, shivering as she wraps herself around you. You didn’t realize how cold you were until she was holding you.

You didn’t realize how damaging this relationship was until you were so wrecked by it.

You didn’t realize how much you loved her until she was leaving.

You can feel her wanting to say something.

“Shut up,” you mumble, holding her hand.

She laughs.

“Okay, whatever you want.”

You remember this might be the last time you’ll ever hear her laugh.

This might be the last time she ever holds you.

“Don’t cry, please,” she begs, kissing the back of your head. “If I can’t talk you can’t cry, I hate when you cry.”

“I can’t,” you breathe, shoving your face into her pillow.

“Hey, hey,” she murmurs, flipping you around so you’re facing each other. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

You don’t think she’s ever apologized this much in her life.

“It hurts me too,” she continues, you press your face into her neck and feel yourself exhale against her warm skin. “If it didn’t have to be like this…”

“It doesn’t,” you mumble. “It doesn’t have to be like this, so don’t let it, Clarisse.”

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” she whispers, her voice cracking just a bit. So quiet only you can hear it because you’re pressed up right against her.

You want to just climb into her, make a home for yourself in between her ribs where you could always feel her heartbeat and always know she’s there.

“Can’t I just come with you?” you cry.

She grabs you a little tighter, like she’s annoyed just by the thought of you being in danger. “No, Y/N. No, you’re going to stay here at camp, and you’ll be safe. I made my siblings promise to look after you, you’ll be okay without me-”

Her siblings are the only ones who know, but that’s only because every once in a while Clarisse won’t let you leave and you’ll oversleep and they’ll see you in her bed.

She swears them all to secrecy and as their cabin leader and their sister, a fellow child of Ares who’s doomed to want someone they can’t have, doomed to hide in the shadows- there’s so many campers who sneak into the Ares cabin at night, and you all ignore it.

There is a certain desperation with demigods and love. Every time could be the last time.

You wish you could swear off love, you wish you could, but Clarisse has you so wrecked you can’t breathe without thinking about her. You run on her, like she’s coffee or sunshine, she’s the IV stuck into your arm, and you don’t want to imagine living without her.

You think of a future without her and it’s just blank.

She holds you tighter and let’s you cry, louder and louder, muffled into her neck. She says she’s sorry but she doesn’t mean it, she can’t, and you don’t care. You can’t care, not right now, not when this is the last time.

“But I’m here right now, okay? I’m here right now, so just listen to my heart.” You grab onto her, trying to keep her here with you- but she won’t. She’ll go. She’ll leave you, and there’s nothing you can do.

You realize with such a startling finality that this is the last time. How deeply you feel it in your heart, not a pain but just an ache, an emptiness- it’s almost beautiful how it washes over you like a wave, like your heart stops and you’re just left a shell.

You breathe in wildly, but you can’t catch your breath, not when she’s half-here, you’re stuck in this hazy reality. Fading in and out. Her heartbeat. Her breath. Her touch. Her voice.

“I’m here right now,” she says. “I’m here right now,” and it’s the last time.

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss

—-

DID WE HAVE FUN OR DID WE HAVE FUN?!?!??!??

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

699 notes · View notes

rottenblur · 8 months

Text

Study break|J.MILLER| part four

Summary: After that intense brunch date with the Millers, Joel had been ignoring you. What better way to get your mind off him than to get drunk and make out with a stranger. Would you do it again if you knew you were gonna get caught?

Warnings: Alcohol, implied thigh riding, making out with a stranger, getting caught hehehe, jealous! Joel, thigh touching by said stranger, weed, truck sex, reader fails to give joel road head, over the clothes touching (reader to joel) crossfaded reader. Smut MOST SMUT IVE WROTE FOR THIS SERIES, joel fighting some guy for you, angry!joel unprotected sex (use a condom plz) violence for like two seconds

“You’re a lethal fuck baby.”

Three long, fucking cruel days of Joel ignoring you, he set you in place and just expected you to be okay with being high and dry.

You responded to his text, he read it and didn’t respond. He makes breakfast every morning, not even glancing at you once.

A fucking asshole. It was infuriating, you keep messaging him hoping he will respond but, nope he leaves you on delivered, as if you aren’t living in the same house.

You pass him in the hallways late at night when you can’t sleep, yet he never responds more than a “hm” to your desperate “hey”.

On a late Saturday night, you and Sarah are laying around, scrolling through your phones till she gets a notification.

“Hey..you wanna go to a party?”

You look over to her, turning off your phone.

Honestly, anything to forget Joel was a good idea in your books. Didn’t matter at what cost, or where… with who.

“Yeah..i guess” You replied.

Her face lights up and she almost mauls you, pulling you into the tightest hug you’ve ever felt.

“REALLY??? My baby is growing up so fast, she kisses your forehead.

“I dont have any party clothes tho, Wore my only dress yesterday.” You pull her off of you to look at her.

She looks at you, gets up and walks over to her closet.

“Are you fucking kidding me, I got everything you could ever want in here.”

You sigh, walk over and start looking through her dresses. None in sight that are even close to knee length.

I mean what’s better to get over a guy by getting drunk in a slutty outfit, and fucking a stranger?

You and Sarah both decide on a outfit, yours a purple mini dress with rhinestone straps that glimmer in the light.

Sarah’s a flowy floral, white dress, honestly she would look like a angel if it wasn’t so short.

“Jeez Sarah I look more like a slut than you do, that’s new.” You say as you both admire each other in a body length mirror.

You spend the next fifteen minutes listening to music and doing your makeup.

When you both look like you should be working a street corner, officially you’re ready to go to a shitty frat party.

You and Sarah grab your phones and head down stairs. Joel and tommy are leaning on the kitchen island looking over some blue prints with a beer in hand.

“We are going to a party so don’t wait up.” She smiles and gives them a twirl showing off her outfit, they both smile then both of their gazes fall on you.

They are staring at you like you’re their prey. Fucking devouring you with their eyes.

Joel’s eyes fall on the hem of your dress, falling just above mid thigh, he furrows his brows and adverts his gaze.

“Yeah alright, text me if you need a ride.” He practically mumbles then tommy pipes in.

“Shit Sarah you’ve converted her.” He laughs and sips his beer.

“Oh shut up, she’s the one that wanted to go.” Sarah says while shoving on a pair of heels.

You look at Joel to see his reaction, it for sure wasn’t a happy one. “Thanks for the ride offer, Mr. Miller.” You wanted it to hurt. When you bend over to pick up your shoes, you made god damn sure he saw your dress ride up revealing the black lace of your panties.

You can hear a grunt as you slip on your shoes and stand back up, rolling your eyes when his catch yours.

You shut the door behind you and you’re off.

Arriving at the party, groups of people are gathered on the lawn. The music is so loud you can hear it from the sidewalk, what the fuck. What the fuck were you doing at a college frat party with Sarah, willingly.

You brush away your shame and step inside. Guys with bass pro hats, covering a horrible mullet. Dressed head to toe in carhartt, the cherry on top is the timberland boots.

Every single god damn one of them looked the same, then one catches your eye.

A guy dressed head to toe in black, other than a green flannel, fucking perfect. He looked like he was only here for the free liquor, probably was best friends with one of these yee haw mother fuckers as a kid.

The only possible reason you could imagine why he would be here, a fucking frat.

You search the liquor table for something other than white claws or bud light, a bottle of jack daniel’s catching your eye, bingo. You grab the bottle screwing the cap open and taking a sip, you wipe your mouth.

A tap on your shoulder makes you turn around, it wasn’t Sarah, she was long gone talking to one of her boy toys.

It was a tall, mullet bass pro wearing mother fucker. Jesus you didn’t have time nor patience for them tonight.

“Hey girl, you can’t just take the whole-“

You flip him off and walk towards your target boy toy. If he was in a band, you’d gladly be his groupie.

Another swig of whiskey to calm your nerves and you’re strutting over to him. He’s perched on a large window sill nursing a cigarette, a bong laid carefully by his feet. Probably the only stoner in here.

You approach him and think of the easiest way to pick up a conversation, got it.

“Hey, can i bum one off ya’?” He looks away from the open window and smiles at you. “For sure, cutie.” He reaches into his pocket pulling out a pack of marlbaro golds and offers it to you.

You take one, putting it between your lips. He sits up, making room for you, you sit down next to him.

He leans in, lighting your cigarette with his. You inhale, pulling away and exhaling the smoke.

“You aren’t one of those frat girls are you?” You laugh at his comment, shaking your head and inhaling once again.

“Nah, my friend dragged me here.”

A lie, but he doesn’t know any better. Saying that you actually wanted to come to this stupid party would do you no good to a guy like this.

He puts the cigarette between his lips, and shifts to pick up the bong.

“You want some? It’s some quad shit really good.” He pulls out a bag from his flannel, packing about a half ounce of weed in it. I mean, fuck it.

You nod your head, picking up the whiskey bottle chugging a good amount and passing it to him, he declines. “What’s your name anyways?”

He takes a nug out, grinds it onto his hand, pitches it and puts it into the bowl.

“Tyler.” He lights the bowl filled to the top with purple and green weed, inhaling till the weed goes through, he pulls out the bowl and inhales the smoke.

A slight cough into his sleeve and he’s passing the bong to you. You take a swig of liquid courage, not that you needed it at all.

The music is slurred, the only features you can make out on his face is his long black hair, his dark brown eyes and a eyebrow piercing. God imagine if his name mattered, if you would even remember it tomorrow.

You pinch the remaining bits of bud, putting it into the bowl. He looks to you, putting out his cigarette onto the hardwood floor. You’re sure the frat DEFINITELY loves this guy.

You take one last drag of your cigarette, passing it to him and taking his lighter.

“How’d you get invited to this anyways, you don’t look like a frat asshole.” You point to his outfit.

He lights the bowl, you inhale. “Yeah i sell some of these assholes shitty overpriced weed.” He laughs, you finish the bowl and set the bong down, he takes a slow drag off your cigarette.

What he said hits you, so does the weed. You bust out laughing, so hard you start coughing.

“I only give pretty girls like you the good shit.”

Oh shit. Mixing the amount of whiskey you had plus the weed was a bad idea. At least you weren’t thinking about Joel.

“Fuck, you’re too sweet, too hot.” You slur.

He passes back the cigarette to you, everything was so calm. You almost forgot where you were for a second, you were fucked up.

You take a drag off the cigarette, throwing it onto the floor, stomping it with your shoe. He smiles at you, then leans in, dodging your lips and going straight for your neck.

He kisses up and down your neck, sucking every couple kisses, he dips down where your dress falls. Right on your tits. He shoves a hand in your dress dancing around your inner thigh, you let out a whimper when his thumb grazes your clit.

Fuck was it the alcohol or was it hot in here.

Then you remember exactly why you don’t drink, your stomach turns upside down. You pull his head away from your neck, smiling to him.

“Hey, I’ll be right back.”

He smiles and nods, picking up the bong as you walk away, stumble away would be more realistic.

You take the bottle with you, running up the crowded stairs and search for a bathroom.

A open door, no one occupying it with a quickie either, bingo. You walk in, pulling out your phone searching through your contacts with blurry vision.

You take a sip, sit yourself on the floor as the phone beeps. To your surprise, they answered.

“Hey, what’s up.” You can hear the mumbles of tv in the background.

You look at your phone, fuck. You swore you called Tommy, not fucking Joel.

It was late too, he was staying up to pick you and Sarah up, such a sweetheart wait no you’re mad at him, what a fucking dick.

“Fuck i meant to call Tommy mm b-“ He cuts you off before you can finish your slurred words.

“Nah, he’s asleep I’m all ya get. Sarah ready too? You sound pretty fuckin’ ready.” He states, did you ready sound that bad?

You sigh and take a gulp of liquor, setting the bottle on the floor and answer. “Yeahhh I dont know where she is, pretty sure she’s with a guy-“ You pick the bottle back up, taking another sip. “Call her yourself bro” You say giggling at your words.

You can almost picture his face when you said that, fingers pinched on his nose bridge, furrowed brows.

“Bro? Who the fuck are you talkin’ to darlin’? I’m leavin now.”

He hangs up the phone, you shove your phone back into your bag, take one last sip of your bottle and head back downstairs.

You’re on top of whatever his name was, you’d already forgotten. Too drunk to have shame, too high to care who it was.

You can feel how hard he was, kissing him was basically just teeth and spit.

You were desperate for each other. If you got up now there would be a wet spot on his black jeans, from you or him, No one knows. Your hips uncontrollably rub against him, your dress riding up for the whole fucking party to see.

You hear your name be called faintly through the pounding of loud music and talking. Then a tap on your shoulder from a rough large hand, oh fuck.

You turn your head to look, your face met with a broad chest in a black t shirt, you look up. Fuck.

“C’mon time to go.” He’s fucking fuming.

Tyler pulls your face back for another kiss, you’re lifted off him like you don’t weigh shit.

“The fuck is this? Your dad or something?” He remarks.

Joel laughs. “What are you 19 or something? Fucking kid.” He mumbles, You stumble aside. Joel steps towards him, tyler stands up, boner and pre cum stain for everyone to see.

“Who the fuck are you old man?” He spits out and goes to grab your arm.

Joel hits him, he falls back with a bloody nose. Probably broken. He was a skinny alternative boy and Joel was you know Joel.

“Wanna try to touch her again?” He picks him up by his collar, you’re frozen in spot. It was kinda hot, him fighting some guy for you.

“Jesus man are you her fucking boyfriend or something, she came onto me. Guess your old ass can’t hit it right.” He should have just left it alone.

“Hey, shut the fu-“ Joel looks at you and before you could finish your sentence, Tyler was on the floor with a fucked up face. You could hear the crunch of his bones against Joel’s strong fist.

Joel grabs your arm and starts pulling you out of the party. “What the fuck was that, Joel seriously?”

He looks at you, adjusts your dress and pulls you towards his truck. “I fuckin’ told you darlin’.”

He picks you up, putting you into the passenger seat, buckling your seat belt and slamming the door. “Told me-“ He walks over to the driver side and hops in.

“What the fuck did you tell me? That bullshit with Tommy?”

He doesn’t say anything, just starts driving. You huff to yourself and take off your shoes.

You get to a stop light, he looks at you. “Yeah, wasn’t bullshit. So much for being mine right?” His grip on the steering wheel tightened, was it Tyler or were you soaking fucking wet over how angry Joel was right now.

“You were fucking ignoring me, you think I don’t want you? Even now.”

He looks at you and the light turns green.

“I was ignoring you ‘cause—“ He looks away, his knuckles white against the black leather of the wheel. “-I can’t fucking control myself no more.” He sighs.

He looks back to you, looking you up and down.

“God did you have to dress so slutty?” His hips rut up, you had him exactly where you wanted him, or at least where drunk you wanted him.

You blush, reaching your hand to the growing bluge in his grey sweatpants, showing you everything you could ever want to see.

His breath hitches. “Fuck, you’re drunk.”

You smile at him and start rubbing him through his pants, he looks down.

A dark wet spot grows on his pants, god he was perfect.

“Darlin’ I can’t drive if you keep doing that.”

You nod and pull his dick out of his pants, his tip was angry and leaking. You thumb his tip, dragging the pre cum down his length pulling a groan out of him.

He looks at you, you unbuckle your seatbelt and adjust in your seat, leaning over to him. You spit on his tip and force him down your throat.

“Fuck- Jesus.” He grunts out.

You bob your head up and down trying to take him all in your mouth, working the rest with your hands, you can feel the car speeding up.

When you feel him about to cum down your throat, he pulls you off and parks the car. You look around, you’re at the bottom of his street, thank god it was too late for anyone to be awake.

“Look we can’t—“ he cuts himself off, looking at your dripping mouth, your dripping cunt peeking out from your dress.

“-Fuck it, come ‘ere.” He adjusts his seat, making room for you, leaning back his seat slightly. Your first time with Joel fucking Miller was gonna be in his truck.

You climb onto his lap, straddling him. He looks at you, reaches down and rubs your clit through your panties.

“Look at ya, all fuckin’ soaked for me” He pushes your panties to the side, pulling you up and notching his tip to your slit. Your breath hitches and you look at him with furrowed brows.

He leans in connecting your lips with his, then pushes his tip into you with a grunt. He disconnects your lips with a sigh. “You’re such a tease.” He grabs your face, making you look at him as he thrusts all the way in you, splitting you apart.

“Fuck—you’re too big.” You shut your eyes, working through the stretch of him.

“Look at me baby.” He fucks into you without remorse, a steady pace with no mercy.

You can feel him in your stomach, he pulls you back into a kiss. You’re moaning into his mouth and his balls are slapping onto your ass such a filthy sound.

He reaches his hand down, oh fuck. Was it the alcohol or could you come right fucking now.

“Oh fuck Joel—mm like that” You mumble into his mouth, he’s fucking you dumb. His fingers find the perfect pace bringing you to your orgasm.

He pulls away from the kiss looking at you with those beautiful, soft brown eyes, and scrunched up face. “Shit darlin’, wanna feel you cum all ‘round this dick.” He groans as his hips pick up a unbearable pace, his tip kissing your cervix with each stroke.

You whimper, and with a nod from him you’re coming fully undone around him, fucking you through your high.

“Fuck you’re squeezing my dick so fuckin’ good.” When you’re coming down from your high, pulsing all around him, his face relaxes and he pulls out. Pulling up your dress, jerking himself till thick white ropes pour all over your lower stomach and clit.

“Jesus.” Is all you can breathe out.

He kisses your forehead, and looks you up and down, blush covered cheeks, sticky white ropes now ruining Sarah’s dress and your panties.

He was out of breath, he looked more fucked than you. You ruffle his hair and climb off him.

“So what are we gonna do now?” You say looking over at him as he pulls up his pants, He looks at you in bliss.

“We do it again. You’re a lethal fuck baby.”

Taglist: @paleidiot @slvbl

(Comment to be added to taglist)

Masterlist: here

Part three: here

Part five: coming soon..

AN: probably wouldn’t have finished this if SOMEONE ( @slvbl ) DIDNT BULLY ME INTO IT. I hope y’all enjoy this. The smut is kinda short but ANGY joel MAKES ME HAPPY. I named tyler after a guy that ghosted me on tinder LITTLE DID HE KNOW HE WOULD BE GETTING BEAT UP IN MY FIC MWAHAHAHAH lmk how yall feel bout this part yall need to get into my inbox i need inspiration 😘

266 notes · View notes

lazuruspit · 1 year

Text

separate ways (worlds apart) — (m)

pairing: miya osamu/afab!chubby!reader (no prns used) content warnings: osamu and reader are divorced parents, angst, smut, pwp (minimal plot if you squint and stand on your head), finger sucking, cunnilingus, size kink, unprotected sex, marking, cheating (reader cheats on her current bf he is an npc tho) wc: 2.8k

“Osamu.”

The aforementioned man looks up, rubbing the back of his neck, and laments your first name as a retort. It’s with the same blunt cadence and everything—rolling off his tongue a little sarcastically, squeezing past his lips like sandpaper.

“You’re late,” you finish.

“Traffic was a pain.”

“You could’ve left your shop earlier.”

“I was busy,” Osamu grunts, jamming his hands in his pockets, “occupied with something.”

Your eyelids wilt into dubious slits. “Something? Or someone?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” He mumbles, “How’s yer new boy toy?”

“Don’t bring up Rafael,” you say, pointing an accusatory finger at the taut canopy of his black t-shirt, “I know how to keep my romance life separate from my daughter's life.”

“Our daughter’s life,” he firmly states, “and I ain’t seeing anyone. Not that it’s any of yer business, anyway.”

You eye him gingerly. Osamu looks unseemly beneath the doorway to your home—especially considering it used to be the doorway to your shared home. He awkwardly idles on the threshold to your genkan, his thick body and tall stature almost taking up the entire space of your doorway. He rubs the scruff of his neck and hangs his head, averting his eyes.

“... You’re right. I’m sorry,” you say, before pivoting on your heel and walking briskly down the hallway.

Osamu hurries in toeing off his shoes, lining them up next to the door. He trips over his socked feet trying to follow you, making a conscious effort in keeping his eyes cast downward, unwilling to be faced with the barren walls that used to be decorated with photos of the two of you, or bleak shelves that once held ornaments from all your past anniversaries.

Osamu clears his throat. “Where’s Sayu?” He asks, saving himself from saying anything else.

“Upstairs sleeping,” you reply, “she fell asleep waiting for you.”

Humiliation flares over Osamu’s cheeks. “I was working overtime,” he mutters, “I’ve been saving up for Sayura’s birthday gift. She said she wants a Furby—whatever the fuck that is.”

He idly drums his fingers on the kitchen island—the counter he spent so many nights bending you over—as he watches as you flit around the kitchen, preparing your evening tea. It strikes a chord in him. Through bones and flesh and cartilage and all. It hurts for him to realise that the only thing fully cut from your life following the divorce was him, not any other part of your routine.

(A selfish little part of Osamu wishes everything else was uprooted for you, too—that the smell of hōjicha tea reminds you of him; that you couldn’t walk past Connel Coffee without remembering how bare your ring finger feels—just as it is for him.)

Osamu silently heeds your silence, and decides to help you by grinding tea leaves.

“I’m trying my best,” he tacks on, “that’s all I’m trying to say.”

“I know you are,” you huff, vigorously wiping down the marble counter. Osamu watches with depthless eyes as you run a threadbare rag over the already spotless island. He can just about see your reflections—your sullen cheeks, his tired eyes.

“I–”

“It’s just– it’s hard enough for our daughter to move between our house– my house– and your apartment every other week. If you wanna work doubles, that’s fine, but you shouldn’t do it on the days you’re supposed to be picking her up–”

Your words die on your tongue, and before you—or Osamu—know it, instead of rubbing an unstained counter, you’re now wiping away the tears that dribble like scythes.

“Woah,” Osamu panics, “hey, hey hey hey–”

He pulls you into his arms, letting your head ensconce itself on his shoulder. He gently shushes you as he glides his hand lower, letting it rest atop the small of your back. Osamu’s fingers run over your spine, over the familiar divots he has committed to his memory, and tries to stamp down the rush of nostalgia that fleetingly impairs his focus.

“It’s just so difficult–” you sniffle into his chest, clutching a fistful of his shirt in your hands.

“I know, I know,” he placates.

Osamu’s heart furors before he can stop himself. He pulls back—just scarcely enough to look you in the eyes—and cups your face, running his jaded thumbs over the cherub of your cheeks, wiping away your tears. He always told you you’re too pretty to cry—especially when you were squirming around his throbbing cock, desperate to swallow him whole.

His silvery eyes flicker down to the necklace locked around your collarbones. It’s gold, lustrous against your buttery skin, and twisted into the letter R. For Rafael. The piece of jewellery mocks him, winking under the dull kitchen lighting.

(That of which you used to slow dance under at the crest of midnight, baring the skeletons in your closet to one another, before feeding each other lukewarm rice soup with cupped hands placed under a worn wooden spoon.)

Osamu’s bigger than you—decidedly so—he’s lost his edge over the years, with his college six-pack being replaced by a heartier layer of flesh, but still, he’s buff. Has the body of someone disciplined. So Osamu encompasses your world as you hoist your neck up, staring at him through your blotchy vision. He preens under your gaze, sliding the pad of his thumb along your mouth, which prompts you—through the curse of muscle memory—to part your lips, and shepherd Osamu’s finger into the round of your cheek with the curl of your tongue.

Your eyes widen. “Osamu–!”

“How is he, by the way?” He asks, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip. Chewing it, gnawing it, tearing it, before letting it slip from his bite—swollen and raw and red. “Does he treat you well?”

Does he treat you better than I did? Is what Osamu wants to ask, stuck on the threshold of whether or not he even wants to know the answer.

“I’m not crying ‘cause of Rafael,” you sniff, “it’s just hard dealing with everything.”

“Has Sayura met him yet?”

“It’s too soon,” you whimper, “she still asks why we can’t have Sunday brunch together anymore.”

“... We’ve been divorced for a year, baby.”

(The term of endearment slips out before he can stop himself. He stands ramrod straight; you slacken into his warmth. Your chests touch, kept apart by the protective fence of your ribs, but even then, your heartbeats pulse in synchronisation.)

“It’s already been a year?” You slur, puckering your eyebrows.

“Yeah. It has.”

He slips his thumb out of your mouth, hooking his forefinger under your chin. He tilts your head up as he looks down at you, eyes glazed with a misty glow. Osamu weaves his thick fingers between the wisps of your hair, craning your head back, baring your neck, and sets his sight on the supple skin of your collarbones.

His heart thumps in a rapid succession, miles from his brain. His impulsiveness overrides his consciousness, and in an undertaken lapse of judgement, Osamu tugs you close by your love handles, breathing lowly against the shell of your ear.

“Does he fuck ya well?” He sharply inhales, scarred lip tilting into a snarl as he not only smells your sweet shampoo, but something else—something a little unseemly wafting from your supple skin—like pomade, or burnt sandalwood.

It’s Rafael’s cologne, Osamu realises. He growls under his breath and kneads your waist, eyes darkening.

“Osamu–” you start, cutting yourself off with a croon of surprise as your ex-husband bullies you backwards, catching you against the kitchen island. The cold marble does little to offset the heat that flares over your body—blooming under your flesh, sluicing between your legs, spreading like a labyrinth throughout your chest—as Osamu cuts his fingers into your chubby skin, pulling you against his sturdy chest.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you gasp, but you refute your words by grinding against his thick thigh that he slots between your legs.

Your fickle statement is countered by Osamu’s beseeching “Just the tip,” as he holds you close, meagrely humping his swelling cock against you, nose buried in your neck.

You shuck Osamu’s shirt above his stomach as he works his fingers into your leggings. He massages the flesh of your ass and captures your lips for a wet kiss. It’s reminiscent of returning to your bed after a long vacation.

Osamu cards his tongue past your lips and curls it over your teeth, savouring your taste. Blood rushes to his cock at the thought of you having been chaste ever since your divorce—he knows it isn’t true, he knows you’ve had sex with Rafael, you have your realistic needs—but Osamu indulges himself, allowing his mind to caper and prance as the taste of home fills his mouth.

He moves his hand to the front of your leggings, palming your pussy through the thin gauze of panties. He shepherds out your natural lube—angling the heel of palm against your clit, tracing feather-light circles around your fluttering hole. Your arousal licks the skin of his fingers, making them glisten and glimmer under the lighting fixtures.

Osamu sinks to his knees, imploring a prayer to the altar that is your body, and tugs down your leggings. He digs divots into your thighs and leans in close, burying his nose between your thighs. Osamu puckers his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your swollen clit. He pulls back, mouth glazed with a wash of your slick, that of which he eagerly cleans with the swipe of his tongue. You twist a tuft of Osamu’s hair in your fist and shepherd him closer, into the welcoming warmth of your pussy, fucking yourself on the defined bridge of his nose.

Osamu rolls out his tongue and flattens it against your cunt, revelling in the way your arousal sieves through the cotton of your intimates, marinating in his mouth. Your dewy cunt dampens your panties, turning them a pearlescent tint of off-white with your pre-cum and Osamu’s saliva. The panties stick to your cunt, making the froth a little see through, outlining the barest hint of your soft pussy.

He snags the band of your underwear between his teeth, and drags them down your legs. Osamu wastes no time in lapsing back to your pussy, slipping his tongue between the fat of your cunt, sucking at your sticky folds. He moans into you, sending vibrations curling up your spine, his eyes fluttering shut as your sweetness saturates his mouth.

You fuck yourself on Osamu’s tongue until you’re creaming around the wet muscle, running your slick and swollen clit atop the tip of his nose. You moan synchronously with him, a cacophony of your voices echoing out in otherwise empty the kitchen. He fully submits to you—he lets you ride out your orgasm on his face—greedily lapping up all your juices, letting the rest trickle down his chin.

Osamu doesn’t give you the luxury of reorientation. Not after having been starved of you for so long. He raises to his feet and mashes his lips against yours. You taste yourself on his tongue. The saltiness of your arousal and the sweetness of his lips play like a mosaic inside your mouth.

Osamu sharply undoes his belt and shoves his pants down his thighs, not even bothering to pull his balls out. Just his cock—fat and heavy as it flares with an angry red tip, leaking with cum.

Your eyes flit down to his boxer briefs, widening. “Did you–”

“Of fucking course I did,” Osamu interrupts, jerking himself off, shameless as he admits he already came—just from eating you out.

Osamu spins you around and folds you over the countertop. The coldness nips your skin the same way Osamu nips your neck, marking you with love bites. He drags his dick between your legs, slapping it against your puffy slit. The sensation prickles your heat, causing you to moan, squirming beneath his firm hand that keeps you in place, locked between your shoulder blades.

“Just the tip,” he repeats—mostly to himself, as some fruitless reminder—“do ya want this? Do you want my cock?”

“I want it,” you cry, halfway between a whine and a beg, “I want it all.”

Osamu grasps the base of his dick and directs it to your winking hole, teasing it with the drooling head of his cock. He drags it against your clit, and just barely squeezes himself past your opening before he starts to vibrate, sweat gathering over his eyebrow.

He tightly curses under his breath, white-knuckled as he grips your waist harder, rolling his hips into you, and into the deep warmth of your cunt. His “just the tip” resolve didn’t last long, he muses. Osamu lifts up his shirt and wedges the hem between his teeth, letting himself watch as his big cock slips in and out of your cunt.

You haven’t been stretched this far in a long time. Rafael’s good; Rafael’s stable; he’s safe. But Osamu—while your safeguard—was always a challenge. He always had to wiggle himself in, watching you struggle around his cock.

Osamu’s hands loll over your waist, pulling you down on him; he growls as your pussy simultaneously swallows his impossibly large cock and squeezes it back out. Skin slaps against skin. Pleasure seizes Osamu, the feeling wholly better from the tightened fist he uses on lonely days, where his greying hairs are a testament to the struggles of co-parenting and the after effects of divorcing his first—and only—love.

Osamu pulls your arms behind your back and collects your wrists with a single hand, making a conscious effort in avoiding the stark absence of your wedding stack. He then raises his dominant hand and sinks it into your hair, using it for leverage to pull you up, to mould your back against his chest, still fucking you stupid as he wraps his arm around you, fingers finding your clit and blindly sweeping at the engorged bud.

His dominant hand leaves your hair and goes for your collarbone. He rips the necklace from its place, and there it goes tinkering to the tiled floor. A puckish chuckle crosses his tongue, seeing it flimsily discarded.

Your jaw hangs open at the pressure of Osamu’s fingers paired with the snap of his hips—his thrusts attuned to your every need.

(You remember back in university, your first year of dating, finding a dog-eared kamasutra book stashed under Samu’s dorm bed, in lieu of the usual eroge or hentai. His friends teased him about it; you found it endearing. He said he wanted to learn it all for you. To study it and improve—and from there your intimacy came a long way: graduation, engagement, and eventual marriage. Divorce.)

Osamu knows you like the back of his hand by now. So he makes your second orgasm come easy, capitalising off the fact that you’ve been strung so far for so long, that only he knows how to turn you into a trembling mess.

Your orgasm crests when Osamu slots his mouth against yours, breathing a plaintive “IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou,” into your cleft lips. Making you feel good makes Osamu feel good; so as you quiver in his embrace, Osamu’s pleasure flares, and he hastily pulls out just in time to screw his fist around his heavy cock and jerk himself off. You mewl at the loss, kittening your butt over him, adding friction to his rising pleasure. Osamu whines as he cums—cutting his fingers into your hips, directing the thick ropes that shoot from his cockhead to the soiled crotch-area of your panties, low on your legs. Some of it sticks to your thighs, dribbling down like hot strings as they tremble.

Osamu rests his forehead against your back once he’s sapped. His hot breath sluices down your spine, his lips barely brushing your sheen-stained skin in what sounds like hesitance. It was always a part of your ritual for Osamu to kiss you everywhere after sex. To soothe the burning mosaic of hickeys and bruises with his lips.

“... You can shower here,” you say, stepping out of your panties, pulling your leggings back up.

Your name crosses Osamu’s tongue. It’s quiet, a premise to talk about what just happened.

“Samu,” you turn around. “I…”

“You can leave Rafael, ya know?” He says, and immediately regrets it. Selfishness was supposed to be something self-indulgent—not something he’d ever admit. This was not self-indulgence, this was pure assholery, because Osamu still missed you, and you had moved on.

You look up at Osamu. He always cried during sex. But not like this—red, scythe-like ribbons around his bloodshot, puffy eyes. You smile, and Osamu’s post-orgasm haze, riding on the last tendrils of love, ripens into dread.

“I think we both know this was a mistake, Samu.”

Osamu hopes you mean the divorce, not the post-divorce sex. But you tilt your head, your telltale sign of discomfort, and Osamu submits to the pain.

“I’m sorry.” You awkwardly turn. “I’ll see you later.”

A tight knot nestles between your shoulders and your heart as you head upstairs, taking whatever’s left of Osamu’s heart and soul with you as you leave.

#osamu x reader #haikyuu x reader #miya osamu x reader #haikyuu smut #osamu miya smut #osamu smut #osamu miya x reader #hq x reader #mine

545 notes · View notes

panicpixieplaygirl · 9 months

Text

TOUCH ME (anakin skywalker)

notes: just a little something based around the au from this post. meant to be a drabble, ended up longer, doesn’t quite feel like a full one-shot tho. anyway, as always, hope it’s somewhat comprehensible and not just horny gibberish. enjoy

word count: 2.2k warnings: smut, female stripper!reader

MINORS DNI! 18+

The club is busy tonight, but even over the loud music and regular conversation you can hear a chorus of squealing and excited greetings from the door. You recognize the noise: a big spender has surely entered the building. But you can’t make out a name.

You follow the sound, making your way through the dim, colorful lighting and cloud of smoke, perfume & glitter, past the many pairs of hungry, perverted eyes that bite at your barely covered body. You walk with purpose, heels clacking loudly with every step, denying the yearning in your heart that hopes it’s him.

When you reach the other girls they’re already pointing his way to you, and you feel yourself quickly shrinking under his intense, blue gaze as he stalks toward you. You don’t know what it is about this one, something about him makes you feeble, makes your heart race and your cheeks hot. You’re thankful he’s always behaved & never pushes his luck like the rest– he’d be impossible to resist.

And, of course, it definitely didn’t hurt that you knew he was carrying a substantial wad of credits for you somewhere under that coat.

“Anakin!” you beam, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him in tightly, squeezing your breasts against his chest and surely covering him in evidence of the visit.

He takes a deep breath, inhales your scent, & contemplates leaving altogether. He wants to touch you, to pull you in deep and close, but he’s forgotten how intoxicating you are, and he’s not sure if he can control himself tonight. He stands stoic, burning at each intersection of your body on his, stressed further with each breath pressing you impossibly closer.

You can feel him breathe you in, and if it were anyone else, you’d smack him away, but your body won’t let you; it feels too satisfying to have him so intimately.

But you know it would be too dangerous to blur any lines. You weren’t allowed to sleep with any customer, it only made things more complicated for the owners. It wasn’t that kind of club. And you were sure if you held him any longer, the already existing rumors would only worsen.

You clear your throat and pull away from him, opting to lay a hand on his broad chest.

“I hope you’ve been doing good.” With some men you could tell, they’d come in only when times were rough or only when times were good, but for Anakin, rain or shine, he seemed to find whatever he was looking for here.

He just nods shortly, his dark eyes not leaving yours, distracted, impatient. You can tell he isn’t interested in small talk.

“To my private room then?” You offer with a smile, maintaining the giddy demeanor that comes naturally with your working hours. Anakin nods again.

You take his hand and guide him to the back, through the door with your stage name displayed in bright gold glitter across it. The room was more than familiar to Anakin, and he settled into his place on your pink loveseat, watching you pour drinks for you both.

He’d grown to hate this room, hate how some of his most pleasant moments were restrained behind it’s locked door. It only served to remind him that you weren’t his. He wanted to have you wholly, to leave this place with you, finally fulfilled & accompanied, instead of alone & perpetually needing more. It angers him, but it angers him even more that his only comfort for his destructive emotions was the exact cause of them. You were the most bittersweet, addicting being that he just couldn’t quit, no matter how hard he tried.

“Quiet tonight, huh?” Anakin was never exactly chatty, but he hadn’t said a word at all.

“I don’t feel like talking.” He stated, classically blunt.

You were starting to feel put off by his affect, your heart twisting and dropping at his coldness. You know that you’re nothing but a distraction, a toy, but you’d thought you developed a relationship with Anakin. You were embarrassed at your naivety.

Your hand finds your remote on the bar and presses play, filling the room with music. You put your smile back together when you face him and bring his drink over, trade it for the envelope he held out to you, filled with credits. Heavier than usual. You set it aside and sip your drink as he does, gaining your composure before setting your glass down and slinking into his lap.

You straddle his wide thighs, your tiny mesh skirt sliding up your own, arms returning to his neck, hands coming up to tangle into the hair at the base, and all the while he didn’t move, hands lying stagnant at his sides.

He couldn’t touch you. It was bad enough that you were touching him, lighting him on fire. He didn’t know why he even came here. He needed to see you, but even just that was too much. If he touched you tonight, he wouldn’t be able to stop, and he couldn’t drag you out of here. No, he couldn’t do that.

“You’re tense,” you mumble seductively in his ear. “You should relax.” Your lips press against his jaw and feel it tighten. You hum and continue to kiss him down his neck, letting your hips fully sink onto him.

“You want it, don’t you, Ani?” The sweet name slides off your tongue in attempt to soothe him. You roll against him, sighing as the motion brushes your thinly veiled cunt over the rough material of his pants. You move again, grinding your clit onto the solid bulge that had formed under you, each little movement sending shocks through you.

You weren’t sure what had gotten into you, you could feel yourself getting slick, knot twisting in your stomach. You never had these kinds of feelings in this room. You knew you liked Anakin, you were attracted to him, in some way, but this was unprecedented; he was a customer, you couldn’t want him like this. But he was always so good to you, so sweet to you… and he felt so big, you were beginning to lose your grip on reality. But his hands still lingering at his sides keep you tethered.

“Anakin,” you breathe against his neck, lips brushing his neck erratically as you rock on him, tugging his hair. He wasn’t giving you a single thing, you couldn’t stand it. “Touch me, please. What did you come here for?”

You were growing irritated, almost wanting to stop and send the unresponsive asshole on his way, but needing so much more of him. You huff and let your hands fall to his pants, unfastening them and pulling them down enough to expose his covered erection, as massive as you dreamed. You’d never seen this much of him before, and it only made your need worse.

You sink your hips back onto him, hands resting on his chest as you resume grinding down on him, his near-nakedness allowing you to feel him so much more fully, perfectly stiff and dragging against you in the most mind-numbing way. Your clit had swollen, become more sensitive, more easily stimulated, made clear to you with each glide down his thick shaft. Your hands bunch in his shirt and give you leverage to slightly lift and drop yourself, riding him over his clothing and finally sending you flying, lost in the feeling.

Your eyes roll back in your head and calls of his name fall from your lips as you chase your orgasm, forgetting where you are, what he’s come here for. You’ve been in similar positions countless times, never did it feel as electrifying as this.

Anakin could only sit there, not saying a word, needing to leave, to escape your spell, but he was paralyzed under your hips, hypnotized by the feeling of you rocking against him, gripping him so tightly. He felt the heat radiating off of you, wetness spreading and seeping through your thong, cunt clenching and doing her hardest to suck him into you. His hands balled up at his sides. He wanted nothing more than to rip the stupid, skimpy cloth from your perfect body and bury himself inside you, pound you until your legs couldn’t move and you couldn’t make a coherent thought or sound. He’d carry you straight home with ease then.

He wanted to throw you off of him, put an end to your torturous, disingenuous teasing, but the noises you were making, the effort in your grinding, were telling him you wanted him, too; only making it even harder to face the idea of leaving this room empty-handed. You’d given him a new level of you, one that swung open a door he was trying so hard to hold shut. He wants to stop you, but he can’t, he wants it all, permission to let loose and do with you as he pleases.

“Anakin,” you whine, letting your head fall to his chest. You feel him breathing heavily, his cock twitching against you, and you can’t fathom why he’s acting this way. All you know is that you’re close, and you need him, and for the first time he sat nearly unresponsive to you, as if he were the toy.

“I need to cum. Touch me, say something, do something. Please, I’ll give you everything, I need you.”

A foul part of him relishes in it, you now victim to an act of your own kind, feeling what he’d felt for so long, needing him so badly, tormented by his needless resistance. With every passing second you become weaker, more dependent on him, relinquishing your control and giving him ownership over you. He can feel you giving in to him with every shared throb, every swirl that surges you closer to cumming. You’re drunk on him, the way he’s perpetually drunk on you, and he can’t hold back any longer.

His hands finally land on your thighs and slide up toward your panties, the feeling of your skin under his hands filling his blood with a savage lust that’s only further ignited as his finger grazes the sticky material covering you. You’re shuddering as his calloused finger glides on your clit, just enough to keep you on the edge of cumming, fluttering at his touch.

“You need me?” He asks against your ear, low and gruff, almost threatening, as if he was warning you of what that would entail, urging you to reconsider. “You don’t know what need is. I’ve fantasized about this pussy for years. Every time I come to this room I leave thinking about how tight you are, how wet you are, everything I could do to have you begging for me like this. Dreamed about fucking you every way possible.” His tone is apprehensive, but his hands are already pulling your panties to the side. “Can’t promise I’ll be gentle…”

“Ani,” the pet name comes out softer now, both on account of your weakness and the surprisingly exposed state the two of you found yourselves in. It could’ve gone terribly wrong for either of you, still could, but your want for each other exceeds the risk.

Anakin lifts one hand to your jaw and tilts your chin up so you’re looking at him, meeting his severe gaze. This night had shown you a lot of firsts, and did so once again; the man you’d grown accustomed to, comfortable with, now instilling a deep, delightful fear in you with just a look alone. Your burning body goes cold, except for your cheeks and your core, shiver running down your spine, tingle spreading through your cunt. What would he do to you?

“Say it.” He demands calmly, tugging you even closer, his beautiful plump lips just inches from yours. He’s nervous, but not that you can sense. After all, it could be a game gone too far, misread, waiting to be snatched away at the last second in some attempt to enthrall him in you even further, drag him along and keep him addicted to you.

“Tell me exactly what you want.” You feel his hand brushing against your inner thigh as he pumps his freed cock, your lips fall open in a gasp as he presses the large head of it against your gushing opening.

“Please, Anakin,” you whimper, pressing your hips down onto him, stopped by his fist. “Please fuck me, I want you.”

You’re shoved onto his much too big cock in a millisecond, mewling deeply at the sudden stretch of him. The long, breathy moan he releases soothes you, but only for a moment before he lifts his hips and presses himself further into you, holds you down on him, forcing the air out of your lungs.

“Oh, Maker, Ani,” you gasp, unable to stop the way you clench around him, amplifying the feeling of him filling you completely. He brings your lips to his and kisses you tenderly enough that it helps you relax, muscles easing as he begins to slowly lift and drop you down on his hardness. Something in your heart melts at the way he kisses you, sweet and eagerly, like he’s thankful for it.

There’s a stinging sensation in your cunt, but it only highlights the way he strokes your walls, already picking up speed. You can barely fit him all, but he rams it in, pinning his head against your cervix, smiling against your mouth at the way you whine pornographically.

“I’m gonna fucking ruin you.”

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker smut #alternate universe #au

378 notes · View notes

bat-writer · 10 months

Note

Dick Grayson x Wayne! Fem Reader who is in a romantic relationship, meets Damian for the first time

A/N: i have no idea if accidentally skipped over this or just didn’t see it but three birds with one stone. ALSO! I’m gonna make it as tho dick and Damien have already met. Like in the animated film “son of Batman”

̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿ ‿‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

“You are one strange kid Damian” you said resting your chin on the heel of your hand as you spoke with the small copy of your father. It was weird honestly, like speaking to your father in child form.

“Y/N? There you are I’ve been looking for you” entered your boyfriend aka night wing “oh…so you’ve met the new pain in my ass huh?” He said crossing his arms

“Well this, ‘pain in the ass’ also happens to be my biological brother” you said walking over to him and giving him a quick kiss to the lips

“Gross. So both my father and sister have terrible romantic taste? Great” Damien Scott, as Grayson rest of his hand on your waist

“But anyway, we’ve got a date to get to babes” dick added in “don’t give Bruce a hard time will you?”

“Just remember who the actual son is here” he said as he resumed looking out of the window ‘thinking’. You thought he was just trying to be like your father and look brooding. He thought it was silly and cute in his own way. But sometimes he did scare you, but for just being a child who is barely into his teen years.

“What happened between you two before I got home?” You asked with a curious look

“I beat him in combat-“

“I wasn’t trying to beat up a kid and tied him up for Bruce” dick interrupted

“…OH WAS THAT THE NIGHT YOU GOT STITCHES? Damien that was you???” You asked in disbelief looking to your brother and he just gives you a smile. Not wanting to tease dick more than you both have already you go and ruffle Damien hair.

“Well I’ll see you later Damien. If dad asks I’m staying over with Dick alright?” You I got as you take Dick’s hand and walk out of the room for your date. Now it wasn’t that Damien liked you, as he cleans, he simply “tolerates you“. But now that he knows that you have connections with the former Robin, he was gonna use that to his advantage.

Humidity of not only tracking Dick, but oh, so now we can schedule specifically when he came to see you. He’d make sure that you were helping him with something or he was just around you in general. He would state that you were “attending your sister duties with him.” Which she did have to mid have a new round was nice. Since he didn’t really grow up with any siblings, now, knowing that his father had another child kind of made him feel a certain way.

Dick then started catching onto his little game. But every time he tried to reprimand him, you’d get in his way and tell him that he was being too harsh on the boy.

“ you know he’s new to all of this ever in his life until now, and neither did I. He’s just still adjusting. This is all new to him and maybe it’s something he really wanted.” He try and explain to your boyfriend, called to try and bare with. He’s not taking me from you.” I remind him laying a kiss to his lips.

“ I guess not,“ he sighs “still being a brat, though” he said, crossing his arms “ besides, sometimes I see something in the kids eyes and I can’t help but feel like he may hurt you in someway. And I don’t want that.”

“Well remember who you’re talking to. I am the blood daughter of Batman after all” you mock your younger brother with a giggle

“Mhm, and you’re my Girl” he smirks pulling you in close by the waist until your flush against him “but you know I’m still keeping an eye on you. Kid spent most of his life with Ra’s Al Ghul. Like he said he was born into a league of assassins.”

“I know, I know, I just want him to be a little more of normal kid at least. Have fun, enjoy himself stuff like that. Just be a regular kid. No Batman, no robin, no league of assassins.”

Suddenly someone clears their throat behind the two of you. Both of you turn to find the same young man you were just talking about.

“ if I wanted to anything to either of you, I would’ve done so already.” Looking to your boyfriend he says “you special should know that.”

Dick squint his eyes at the young man about to question him when he was interrupted again

“But…. I guess I wouldn’t do anything to you guys…… I guess” he said, rolling his eyes. You knew that in his own creative way it was his way he cared for you. And that included dick.

the night has lead into Damien and Dick falling asleep to a movie while leaning against one another. You smile at the duo and snapped a picture and covered them with a blanket. Kissing Damien on the head and a quick kiss to Dick as well you shut the tv off. You wake up dick and had him carry Damien to bed.

“…maybe he’s not that bad” he whispered as you left his room

“Well he’s my brother after all, and I’m great” you responde with a wink “maybe it’s time we also get some rest” you take his hand and quietly close the door to his room. Damien went to sleep that night with a small smile and warm feeling in his chest

~kitty 🐈‍⬛

#nightwing x reader #nightwing x Wayne reader #wayne daughter #dick grayson x wayne reader #dick grayson #bruce wayne #dc comics #damien wayne #Damien Wayne x sister reader

171 notes · View notes