#or anything. its a way of saying 'i will love you when you've changed and when you're different. because it's still *you*.'

[nori-the-cat]

can u do sungchan as a bf

Why is this so high in demand? Ladies and gents, are we collectively thirsty for him??? (Me too.) and yes, I'm doing this reading for us curious and thirsty ladies and gents.

RIIZE Jung Sungchan as Your Boyfriend

Was he okay with me doing this reading? Yes. But he was at first a little hesitant and ironically shy and pretty sweet.

Remember, this is just my interpretation based on the tarot spread. All of this are alleged and for entertainment purposes only. Take it with a grain of salt.

So, what is Sungchan like a boyfriend?

Cards: knight of cups, five of cups, the chariot, page of cups, the hierophant, seven of cups, ten of wands, the empress, three of wands, ace of wands, six of swords, the devil, and eight of pentacles.

I said he's sweet, right? He is actually a sweet guy. There are cup(s) cards in this reading. I often associate the cup(s) card with emotions and Sungchan is an emotional guy.

Is your type a man who is in tune with his emotions? Someone dominant and masculine? The kind of guy who takes the lead and initiates things? A reliable man? Well, Sungchan is a total keeper.

He seems like the kind of guy who really gets you, you know? Like, for example, he can tell when you're feeling down and will always be there to cheer you up or just listen if you need to vent.

He's aware of you and your surroundings. You won't have to worry about feeling neglected. He's most likely going to notice if you change your hair or make-up. The kind of boyfriend who is super supportive and sweet.

Imagine this scenario: You're having a tough day at work or university and feeling discouraged. You meet Sungchan for coffee and vent about your frustrations. He listens patiently, validates your feelings, and offers words of encouragement.

When things get rough, Sungchan's the kind of guy who totally gets it. He's there for you, no matter what. He would make you feel supported and safe in his arms (and biceps).

Not only that Sungchan seems like a super chill and supportive guy. He's a great listener, so you can vent about anything that's bugging you, and trust me, everyone needs that sometimes. Plus, he totally gets vibes, you know? Like, after a rough day, he'd be the first person to offer a giant hug and words of encouragement that make you feel ten times better. Sounds like a dream boyfriend, right? That's what Sungchan want to make you feel. He wants you to think he's the partner of your dream.

However, it's not easy to be with Sungchan. I also think he knows it's not easy for him either.

Sungchan wouldn't go into a relationship just because he's interested or finds the person attractive. In terms of love, he's not much of a risk-taker. He values tradition and commitment, and seeking other's opinions is important to him.

So, he might be the type to consider his parents' or friend's opinion before dating someone. I'm assuming he wants to be validated for the decision he makes. But it could also mean the person he dates is not just someone he loves and cares for. For Sungchan, his partner is a part of his life and someone he integrates into his daily routine. He wants them to be accepted in his surroundings or community.

I would say, being in a relationship is a pretty big deal for him. Regardless of the validation or not, he will most likely ask his closest ones about their opinion on his partner (you).

When Sungchan loves, he loves hard. Hence, valuing the opinion of others and not just his own is something he would do. Maybe he was raised that way? Is South Korean society influencing him? I don't know. But, for him, this leads to overthinking and indecisiveness as well as the tendency to people please.

In a relationship, this aspect of him would cause some friction. There could be miscommunications and arguments. Imagine you and Sungchan are planning a weekend getaway. You've both researched different destinations and activities, each with its own appeal. Sungchan might get overwhelmed by the options and have difficulty picking just one. He might spend a lot of time weighing the pros and cons of each location, even after you've discussed them together.

He is also overly responsible and takes on too much. I'm sure the fans know how many times his members have said he is the reliable one. So in a relationship, it is like he might be taking the burden when the relationship goes sour and causing him to be overwhelmed.

Personally, in a relationship, I find Sungchan to be a great guy, but sometimes he could go into overdrive. He might try to fix everything, which can be a bit much, you know? Also, he is a little bit of a perfectionist. He might want the relationship to feel and look perfect. But, no relationship is perfect? Well, tell that to Sungchan.

In another light, his perfection could translate to him feeling unsatisfied or often worried about the future. So, think about planning, like him planning a future together with you.

As a partner or significant other, he isn't just in it for a good time. He's looking for the real deal, someone to build a future with. We're talking relationship goals, not just Netflix and chill.

He's the 'I'm in a relationship to get married'. He is in it for the long run.

Despite preferring a long-term and serious relationship. Sungchan gets bored pretty easily. He needs the relationship to have some dynamic. He likes routines, but he much prefers to have some unexpected plan once in a while. Whether it's a morning road trip or going for mountain climbing, Sungchan needs excitement in his life. This is because he enjoys trying new things with his partner (you), keeping the spark alive and creating lasting memories. Basically, he wants to keep the relationship exciting.

Now, say, he's in a long-term relationship with you. Sungchan is all about being a good boyfriend. He's got your back no matter what, and your happiness is his number one priority. He is really about making the relationship feel good and look good, so making you happy is a part of his plan. Like, he wouldn't dream of ditching plans for guys' night if you needed a Netflix marathon and takeout.

Another side of him that I notice in this reading and around Shotaro is how clingy and somewhat possessive he is to the people he is close with. This side of him might be visible in a romantic relationship. Sungchan might get a liiittle jealous sometimes, you know? Like, maybe blowing up your phone when you're out with the girls or needing some reassurance every now and then. Nothing major, but just something to be aware of.

Sungchan's love language:

Sungchan's love language is most likely Acts of Service.

Being there for his partner: He's dependable and reliable, taking the initiative to cheer someone up or lend an ear.

Prioritizing his partner's happiness: This could involve things like cancelling plans to spend time together or planning exciting activities to keep the spark alive.

Taking responsibility: He takes on a lot and tries to "fix" things, demonstrating his commitment to the relationship's well-being.

Additional information:

Sungchan's energy is pretty overwhelming for me. I'm not going to lie that I feel a little intimidated. It's like he's trying to scare me away? I'm not scared, but intimidated? Defo. I had to take a break from doing this reading by distracting myself and doing other things.

I also think his intimidating face or cold-looking expression is a mask. He might be a super sensitive guy and uses the least unattractive expression to hide this side of him. He's also SUPER masculine. SUPER DOMINEERING too. His dominant energy was very much felt during the reading.

As the reading progresses, he gets more comfortable and that's when I realised it was okay to do this reading.

Also, him as a boyfriend reminds me of Taylor Swift's song Fearless and in particular the line "But you're just so cool. Run your hands through your hair." I'm pretty sure I've seen it somewhere. A picture or fan video of him running his hand through his hair and he looked hot. That's how I thought of Fearless as the song that matches his vibe as a boyfriend. The song Baby I'm Yours by Artic Monkeys also reminds me of him.

#kpop #riize #kpop tarot #riize tarot #riize sungchan #sungchan riize #nori tarot #riize x reader #riize scenarios #riize imagines #riize fluff #jung sungchan #sungchan x reader #sungchan imagines #sungchan fluff #kpop reading #tarot reading #tarot

[wasyago]

so, would you?

nothing important under the cut, you don't need to look haha

#inspired by the random youtube short i saw about how these types of questions are not really about logic but about emotion and reassurance #doesn't matter if the question doesn't make sense. you say 'yes' because you love them no matter what. not because its a worm or a bug or #or anything. its a way of saying 'i will love you when you've changed and when you're different. because it's still *you*.' #idk something about it just felt so gentle and genuine. like a pure display of affection through a silly question... #and of course fnc was the first thing i thought about because i got brainworms #jrwi fish and chips #jrwi riptide #jrwi chip #gillion tidestrider #my art #sketch #also im back from a vacation! and i feel so awful i got sick the first day home and im sitting here at 6am drawing fishes and chips #the dialog feels a little ooc but i cant figure out if it really is or if its because my head hurts and i cant think #tbh it doesn't really matter.......... but it matters to me augh #ALSO yes the under the cut bit is about episode 109. i dont know if its clear or not

[ozzgin]

Santa baby are you really there?!

*hears a voice in my backyard*

FUCK SKIN WALKER

- you make Yan skinwalker i’ll do anything to get a skin walker to love me … yes I am 100% mentally stable

I'm not sure if you had something horror-esque in mind, because my immediate idea was Reader accidentally getting cursed and continuing her life completely unaware with a ""dog"" everyone is freaked out by, but she finds it cute. So more like dark comedy vibes. You be the judge. :D

Disclaimer: I have changed the name to Shapeshifter as to not delve into potentially offensive takes on native folklore. Thank you for informing my European ass.

Yandere!Monster x Reader [Shapeshifter]

On your last hiking trip, you've stumbled upon a helpless, lost dog. Or rather, it stalked you down to your cabin and spent the night in front of your window. You didn't have the heart to abandon the poor soul and so you brought it home with you. Strange things have been happening ever since and no one knows how to tell you that the monstrous coyote-like creature might be to blame. You're oblivious to everything.

Content: female reader, dark comedy, monster romance, reader is cursed and proud

It wasn't your intention to return home with a new pet. Some might say it was written in the stars, this fateful encounter of yours. You had finished packing your supplies for a day-long hike, vehemently refusing to join your group of friends that would be guided around by a native. They’d warned you many areas of the mountainous forest were supposedly cursed or haunted, so you just scribbled the limits on your makeshift map and promised to stay on the main trails. After all, this was your chance to commune with nature. As the sun begun to set, you wondered if going by yourself was indeed a smart idea, given your lack of spatial awareness and difficulty to navigate maps. You flipped the piece of paper several times, deep in contemplation. Could it be that you’ve reached the forbidden lands? You quickly surveyed the area: based on the stuffed rag dolls hanging from old branches, and the animal skulls arranged in patterns among patches of burnt grass, it was very much a possibility. Perhaps the improvised slab that said “Stay away” in dripping crimson letters should’ve been enough of a warning, but you assumed they’d just been creative with trail markers.

You didn’t have the time to panic. Just as you were furrowing your eyebrows in a final attempt to decipher the map (at the time upside-down), your ears picked up a faint shuffle of leaves. Further away stood a dog, its glossy eyes fixated on your form. A lost puppy? It seemed to be on the larger side, but then again some breeds grow rather fast. You lowered yourself and patted your knees, whispering diminutives in an effort to call the animal over. It remained in place, staring quietly. Alright, then. You focused on finding your way back instead. Every now and then you'd turn back and see the dog, motionlessly eyeing you at a constant distance. Oh, dear. Was it lost? Frightening affair.

Back at the cabin you told the others about your discovery, with a hint of worry in your voice. You hoped the little pup had found proper shelter. You'd expected a similar reaction coming from your friends, but one of them suggested: "What if it was some shapeshifting monster? There's many legends and stories from the area." Everyone laughed and you joined hesitantly, mildly annoyed by the lack of empathy. That night you barely slept, twisting and turning under the heavy feeling of being watched. You woke up tired and nervous, dragging your feet towards the window for some fresh air. That's when you saw the same forest creature, fully awake and tall in its glory, positioned before your room. This was no coincidence. You had been plagued by the guilt of abandoning a vulnerable quadruped and you weren't about to continue as a passive observer. You strode out without a word and lifted the large dog with a huff, carrying it back in to figure out the transport logistics.

Thus started the unexpected companionship. To you, it's a lovely tale of two lost souls finding one another. Most people seem to disagree. Can you blame them? The rescued puppy you often speak of is, in the eyes of everyone else, a monstrous beast by all definitions. It resembles a coyote more than a dog, but even this description is too gentle. The fur is always raised threateningly and the protruding clusters of fangs remind one of the anatomical anomalies displayed in museums. The eyes, oh, the worst of all perhaps, bottomless depths that pull you in until you run out of air. The creature stares with the all-knowing gaze of a human. "Don't be rude", you snap at whoever dares to point these details out. "It must be a mixed breed or something."

Their persistence is truly ridiculous. You've even had guests run out in panic, claiming the dog stood on its back legs and whispered in a language unknown. Or that its shadow would morph into a grotesque man with claws and crooked antlers. Or that they've found it hunched over your sleeping form, its spine twisted outwards with jagged peaks breaking through the wild fur. Rubbish, all of it.

Strange things have been happening, no doubt, but your adopted fur-child has no blame to carry. You've been trying to distract yourself, going on dates and occasionally bringing potential suitors over. They all vanish overnight, nonchalantly leaving an empty, ruffled bed for you to wake up to. "Am I just unlucky?" You sigh, running your fingers through the coarse fur of your dog. It lowers itself under your touch, visibly enjoying the affection. For a split second, it glances out the window. By the time you come out of your depressed slump, the birds should've finished feeding on the remains. He made sure to tear and grind everything fine enough to not leave any marks behind.

That's how curses work, after all. He didn't expect, however, that you'd be utterly unaware of it. He has to give you the credit, not many people become stalked by an ancient curse and continue their life in blissful ignorance. Even more, for them to just casually pick up the haunting entity and bring it inside their home willingly...You're, uh, certainly a special one. Hence the change of plans. He was supposed to torment you into an early grave, but he's grown rather attached to your bizarre antics. And you do provide some damn good chin scratches. He's therefore satisfied with causing anguish and destruction to anything and anyone in your immediate vicinity instead. Since you've been complaining about the resulting isolation...

You wake up with a gasp, wiping your drenched forehead and checking the sheets. The dog is curled next to you, although its head is now tilted in your direction. "O-oh. It might be the loneliness talking...but I had the strangest dream." How troubling and embarrassing. Your beloved pet had turned into a deformed, monstrous man instead, pinning you down and hungrily grazing your skin with his sharp teeth. Your fearful protests eventually turned into shameless moans, your frail body at the mercy of the mysterious beast. It unfolded so vividly that your core feels sore. You stretch a sheepish hand towards your pet and abruptly stop halfway, noticing the marks diffused into your wrist, like violet smudges of watercolor. What the hell did you do last night?

The dog buries its head under the sheets and nuzzles its snout into your soft flesh. Heh. How many more disappearing guests will be needed for you to figure out your situation? He does find your obliviousness terribly amusing, as well as your willingness to clutch onto him despite his unsightly appearance. He was feeling particularly cheeky and thought of giving you a little scare, only to be once again taken aback by your neediness. He has to wonder who exactly is trapped in this situation, because your reactions to everything he does are frighteningly tempting. Maybe tonight he'll finally let you know, just as you're about to come undone beneath his heaving body. Something like, hmmm. "By the way, love, this isn't a dream." He could even add a little "woof" to tease you more.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #horror #monster x reader #monster romance #yandere oc #monster smut #monster boyfriend #terato #teratophillia #monster fucker

[simpforrooster]

nothing but a gentleman.

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x F!Reader

summary: jake is obsessed with you. you eat it up. you’re obsessed with his obsession. but also with him.

t/w: soft!jake, some cursing

"Get out of here, Bagman. You're giving me a headache."

The blonde aviator grabs at his chest. "God, I love it when you're mean to me." Those green eyes sparkle with mischief under the lights of the Hard Deck.

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin has been pining after you for months.

& you have been loving every second of it. Miramar's resident playboy has only had eyes for you. You haven't seen him spare a glance at any of the other ladies in the bar.

Believe me, they've been looking at him.

"Y/n, how long are you going to keep my boy at arm's length?" Coyote asks from the other side of the pool table. Jake saddles up next to him and feeds you the saddest pout he can muster.

"Yeah, y/n, how long?" Jake asks.

Your intention wasn't to drag this hard-to-get play out for so long. Truthfully, it's becoming hard not to give in to those strong arms. To not lean in when he invades your personal space, feeding you a smart ass comment.

Your shoulder comes up to your ear and falls back down. "Hard to say, Bagman."

"Let's play for it," he tells you. Jake saunters over to you, and leans against the pool table. Crossing his arms over his fit chest, he situates his mouth just outside your ear. "If I win, you've gotta give me a kiss, darlin'."

The way his hot breath falls across your ear causes goosebumps to appear down your arms. Jake notices, and a blonde brow raises.

"What are you? Twelve?" you antagonize.

"Oh, honey. I'm willing to try anything at this point."

"Rack 'em. Honey." You lightly shove him back, your hands reacting to the small second they were on his chest.

"If I win, you give it up," you send the man a sad look.

"Give what up?" he asks.

"All this pining'." Your hand gestures wildly around in the air.

For a moment, despair crosses over that handsome face. He recovers quickly. "Oh, I'm not worried."

Jake lets you break. Two stripes fall into the pocket. Jake comes up behind you before your next shot. His hand slides across your waist and he pulls you into his side.

Right as you pull back, Jake leans down. "Don't scratch."

The cueball follows your striped ball into the pocket.

"Damn," he murmurs. It takes a full 45 seconds to get your heart rate under control.

The jig is up once Jake get in control of the pool table. Not only is he the dagger squad's best dart player, he's got the best pool table on lock, too. There is no way he's going to take it easy on you.

Naturally, he doesn't.

"One more and Hangman gets a kiss," he smirks. He doesn't take his eyes off your as he pulls back and send the cue ball sailing.

The eight ball falls into it's intended pocket effortlessly. Followed right by the cue ball.

Shock falls across all your faces. Jake has never lost a game of pool. Ever.

Jake sets the cue stick down, and rounds the table. Standing toe-to-toe with you, he feeds you a delicious smirk.

"Darlin', I ain't gonna make you kiss me if you don't want to. Furthermore, I only want your kiss if its of your own volition." He tucks a strand of stray hair behind your ear.

Your eyes lock with his and the world stops. What a fucking gentleman.

Fisting the front of his shirt, you yank him down to your mouth. Jake relaxes into the kiss immediately and allows his hands to slide around your waist.

Jake takes control, changing the direction and deepening the kiss. Your hands move from his shirt to the nap of his neck, fingers knotting in his hair. His hair that’s gotten just a bit long.

Jake pulls back just a hair, his lips a breath away from yours. “Damn,” he mumbles, again.

“My own volition, huh?”

“I’m nothing if not a gentleman,” he winks. “A gentleman who is dying to kiss you again.”

You guide his lips back to yours.

“Kiss me, Hangman.”

master list.

a/n: been a little while since i wrote for ole jakey. i hope y'all like it!

#top gun maverick #top gun #top gun maverick fic #hangman fic #hangman imagine #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x you #jake seresin

[bouquetofalliums]

wilbur soot's statement is the furthest it can be from an apology. its vague, baseless, lacks Any sort of accountability, and feels like some shit chatgpt made up. two pages, four paragraphs and... Not a single Im Sorry. and to think i expected any better of him and i REALLY DID. his response to his other mild controversies were genuine and decent at best. this just lacks Everything. i read the first two sentences and my eyes rolled to the back of my fuckin head

disregarding that the way he downplays his own abuse astounds me. because WE KNOW EVERYTHING. we've heard from the victim and there were Witnesses. you say you were snobbish, disrespectful and selfish, but aside from the biting thing; do you ever address that time you pinned her down to claim you were stronger than her although knowing shelby has gone through past sexual assault? how you weaponized her safe word? how you locked her up in your house for days? how you never cleaned up over yourself and made her do all the work? how you gaslit her and her friends and Humiliated her in front of them ????? no amount of therapy or change you've claimed to have gone through can excuse any of your vile behaviours ESPECIALLY when it comes WITHOUT an apology. you cry about how you've changed to us but you don't care at all! because it was all about fame and money to you, right? us and our words mean so little to you, right?

you could've taken more time to polish this and to come from a place of genuinity and none of us would have complained. rather you put out some flat disingenuous slop and expected us to eat it up. No! youve lost your devoted fanbase wilbur. if you didn't want your shitty actions to come out you shouldn't have been a shitty person in the first place.

whatever . i have more to say but i dont want to waste my words on him. im so so fucking disappointed in that man and i hope to never see his face on the internet ever again . to think i spent the last 3 years and more just blindly supporting and loving his music and content without thinking anything else of it .... i feel so sick . I feel so so sick

sending all the love and support to shelby, lexie, rhana, sophie, and to anyone and all who have been deeply hurt by his actions in any way whatsoever

#i want to cry #wilbur soot #discourse #cw abuse #sa mention

[toorurs]

wish you were sober

synopsis: in which you drunkenly confess to aventurine and he doesn’t believe you, rather believing that he’s not worthy, less even deserving of your love. despite that, his insecurity, you're under the belief that aventurine deserves all the love in the world. love - something that you want to introduce to him and show him “what it means to love you.”

pairing: aventurine x reader | wordcount: 2.3k (i’ve gone insane) | content & warnings: hurt/comfort, alcohol; they're both drunk, insecure aventurine, unestablished relationship, they label themself as friends but reader barely knows anything abt him LMFAO, dual pov, DO YALL GET THE REFERENCE IN THE SYNOPSIS LMFAO??, rushed ending icl, half assed-ly proofread; oneshot

a/n: yesterday i listened to wish you were sober by conan gray and was like “damn.. this’d fit sunday” but then i asked azul what he thinks cause i couldn’t decide between su**day and <aventurine3. and they replied with that it’d be so much more angsty with aventurine (okay not quote on quote but you get the msg) and i dislike su**ay anyway!! so boom! (y’all are still getting another sunday fic..yay..ig.....)

tags: beloved @azullumi <3 and @cherieiu (stop punching me)

“i love you.” 

your confession doesn't come over as surprising for aventurine, he anticipated it. just like how the ebb awaits the flood, yearning for it but disappearing as soon as it arrives. missing out on each other for just a split second, as the other party sweeps and slips away from the grasp of the other. nevertheless aventurine is glued to his seat on the rich sofa. 

colorful poker chips are splattered around the rich mahogany floor tiles, bottles of vodka and wine, some already with their cork removed and empty, others who haven't even been opened yet. a chandelier adorning the ceiling of the big room, its lightbulbs glowing dimly in the caliginous room, illuminating it.

one of the lamps flickers while the others continue to shine brightly - too brightly aventurine thinks, if he were to watch them any longer he’d feel like melting. the closer he got to you the sun, the deeper he'd fall into the bottomless pit he managed to crawl out of.

the room reeks of alcohol. is the temperature rising? he feels like every time the last number on the digital clock changes the warmer it gets. his blond bangs stick to his forehead and beads of sweat are running down his flushed cheeks - that answers his question.

it’s hot - humid even. he's not sure if he's able to bear the heat in this narrow atmosphere any longer. he tries to blow the sweat away by waving at his face with his hand, trying to cool off his face - a futile attempt. god, what's this a/c even good for, if it can't do it's damn job.

he opens his mouth with the intent of wanting to say that you're lying, that you shouldn't say stuff like that when you're drunk and that you'll regret later. but he doesn't, he refrains from doing so. instead he gulps down the words immediately, letter for letter. they're a bitter pillow to swallow. flowing down his throat like the wavering water running down a stream - intoxicating, similar to the alcoholic liquid you've downed.

the blond looks at you through half lidded eyes. you lift yourself off the ground, he takes notice that you have a hard time doing so, legs slightly trembling as you remove them from the floor tiles. (you've always been a lightweight he thinks)

as you make your way over to him, standing up and wanting to sit yourself next to him on the large black leather sofa. you clumsily bump against one of the almost empty shot glasses that still lies on the floor. tripping over the small glass as your foot comes in contact with it. the glass that still contained some of the red wine you've poured in, not too long ago, tumbles as easily as a domino tile, falling upon the smallest touch. making the flimsy piece immediately meet the ground.

it breaks into a few sharp shards and the remaining alcohol starts seeping out of it, staining your once white socks with crimson colored alcohol. “ah m’sorry!” you mumble as you quickly bend down to gingerly pick up the fragments, placing them in the palm of your hand carefully, so that they won't cut you and leave slits.

aventurine takes another peek at you as you tidy up. your face is flushed, your cheeks tinted in a bright red and you let out incoherent sorrys, blabbering incomplete phrases. he wants to tell you that it's alright. that he feels the same and reciprocates yours feelings, that you don't have to apologize and he'll help you.

but he freezes.

the words that he wants to tell you, the ones he's been longing to say don't leave his mouth. neither does he move. instead he coughs, continuing to watch you while you clean up. a tissue has found its way into your right hand, helping you soak up the alcohol. (its his hand that should be intertwined with yours, not the tissue)

his throat hurts. 

(he's not in the right mindspace to acknowledge if it's because of you - the unsaid words that he didn't reveal to you yet or because of the alcohol.) 

it's dry and lacks any kind of refreshing liquid that'd quench the drought that occurs in his throat. he contemplates, thinking about the choices he has. swallowing down his own spit isn't worth it, it makes his throat burn even more.

he comes to the decision to pour himself another glass of alcohol. (debatably his worst decision until now.)

twirling the almost translucent liquid in his glass, before fully gulping it down in one go. a bit of the alcohol escapes the depths of his mouth, running down his chin and messily staining his porcelain-like skin. 

he doesn't like the bitter taste, he can't seem to befriend himself with it. (neither can he befriend him with himself) although it's not the worst, he's just not able to find a reason to like it. after all, after a single sip it starts to sting as it enters his mouth.

the scent isn't great either, it smells strong, too strong for his liking, a scent that reeks of cleaning detergent and not to mention, it prickles on his tongue and burns as it slides down his throat when it makes its way into his blood. but there's one thing aventurine can't deny: it's efficiency.

it fulfills its purpose well making him lightheaded and dizzy, to the point of forgetting everything.

all sounds are drowned out. even the lame pop songs playlist you turned on because you insisted that “it'll set the right mood” is barely audible for him now. his ears hurt hellish, he wants to put his hands over his ears to escape the white noise. the sound that plays in his ears is similar to the one of when an airplane starts boarding - an unpleasant noise.

the only sound that remains for aventurine’s slightly drunk state is your voice. it echoes through his ears. your drunk confession playing over and over in his mind like a broken record, anticipating the day it'll be fixed, so the misery it is in ceases. 

his sloppy and sluggish movements - the way his hands tremble as he pours himself another glass, the nervousness that forms inside his body and the blush that spreads as quickly as a wildfire on his cheeks - they're tormenting him, and he blames none other than the alcohol for it. 

“a drunk mind speaks a sober heart, drunk words are sober thoughts, when you're drunk you reveal your true desires” his ass. the both of you are just friends. friends that are acquainted through work, nothing more, nothing less. aventurine couldn't bear to lose his only friend, after all he's already lost everything.

(anything he'd never want to lose will eventually be lost. it is as if fate had decided that everything that is worth wanting, everything that he wants to have and keep, will be lost the moment he gets his fingers on it. to aventurine there’s nothing worth pursuing at the cost of prolonging a life that is full of anguish.)

his father whom he never got to meet, his mother and sister whom he was forced to leave behind and kakavasha, his younger self. all will be lost - everything was lost. if he wasn't careful now, one slip up on the thin ice or feet accidentally trampling over the floor full of eggshells, he'd not only lose himself in the process, but you too. his one and only friend.

crossing this line he set for himself, as he drew it along the earthy ground with his calloused fingers, trembling as they traced over the mud.

walking past the border that was created to keep everything and everyone distant from him, as he stood on the other side turning his back from the world, walking away and waving, to bid his goodbye from them.

the wall he built around him to shield him from the world, protecting everyone from the ugly thing that was kept inside , protecting himself from the people that only want to torment him.

forgetting all of these things, leaving them behind for you would mean showing you who he really was. a frail human being that hides himself behind a mask. the theater curtains revealing the person who played the role of the man who had called himself aventurine for the past years. placing him in the spotlight and giving the audience a show they'll never forget, like the fool he is. 

aventurine doesn't think that he is loveable, that he's undeserving of love - your love.

you think that aventurine deserves all the love in the world. providing him with said love, embracing him and showing him how pure love can be. 

the blond caught your eye right away. he was charming, funny and handsome. aventurine turned into your little work crush, your motivation to convince yourself just to see him.

the road was rocky and full of obstacles, set up by none other than aventurine. it gave you a better perception of who he really was and it intrigued you even more. why does he hide himself away from the world? why does he convince himself to not get anyone close to him even though he longs for the touch of another person? who is aventurine, really?

you can't answer any of these questions and neither are you certain if aventurine really can but that doesn't stop you. you continue to climb up all the way to know who he is, who the person you fell in love with really is. 

love, is weird isn't it? it comes in all different shapes and forms.

if someone were to ask you why you like him, you wouldn't know how to answer, because neither do you know.

but nevertheless you still like him. why? how come you like someone that you don't even know, someone that is foreign to you, almost like a stranger. even though the both of you label yourself as “friends.”

you're not sure what the color is that infuses his irises, he keeps them hidden beneath his glasses. despite that, you long to stare into his eyes and let all the plain and dull parts of your life get painted in the same colors of his hues. a color that brings you comfort and cures your sorrow. it's the hues that you want to stare at as you tuck a golden strand of hair behind his ear, in return he grants you a small but genuine smile.

a smile that you want to see more often, one that you want to keep for yourself. 

as for his scent, every person has their own unique and special scent. you plead to the gods above that he’ll let you bury your head into the crook of his neck and absorb his smell so it becomes the only scent that lingers around your nose. 

there are so many more things that you want to know about him but you're unaware of. one might say that you're odd for liking - no, loving someone that you barely know.

a stranger, a foreign person whom you know little about to almost nothing about, is the person that you love. absurd isn't it? but love is weird, love can be pure and ridiculous, but it can also be painful and heart wrenching. love is a feeling that not only brings joy to oneself but also causes pain. but it's a feeling that you never want to get rid of - not until you introduced aventurine to it. showing him what love has to offer and has in store.

in the iridescent light aventurine remains to look as ethereal as ever. a scent of vodka lingers around aventurines figure, the smell is strong, but you couldn't care less. his hair is disheveled but nevertheless continues to shine in the dazzling light. he lets out a tiring yawn and you couldn't imagine aventurine any more beautiful than in this moment.

vulnerable and for your eyes only. making it unable for you to tear your gaze away from the sight before you. 

he's like a shooting star, if you don't continue to watch and follow it and blink, even if it's just for a single moment - it's all over and you'll never see it again. 

“stop looking at me like that.” aventurine mumbles quietly, almost whispering. upon hearing that, you make your way over to him, glass shards long forgotten as you place them on the small coffee table in front of the sofa.

your arms reach out to aventurine, clutching your hands on his shoulders. your grip is sluggish but you don't falter and continue to hold him. “like what?” your lips are slightly parted and your gaze is drowsy as you counter aventurine's question with a question of your own.

“like that.” he placed the hand that just rested on his thigh, on your cheek, slightly caressing it. “you're just gonna hurt the both of us if you keep this up any longer.” he's not sure where the boldness came from, he blames it on the alcohol once again; it finally seemed to kick in.  

“‘m not lying” you hiccup. tomorrow i’ll tell you how much i love you, no matter if it's once” a cough exits your throat “or a hundred times.” the words that leave your mouth are slurred, they're incoherent and muddled up. your grip on his shoulder weakens, hands slipping off and head falling against his chest.

..did you seriously just black out?

aventurine can only sigh at that. a small smile finds its way onto his face. he snakes his arms around you waist, snuggling his face into the crook of your neck and hugging you with the remaining power he had left before falling asleep. guess there'll be a lot to unpack tomorrow but for now he allows himself to indulge in this shared moment between the two of you. 

e/n: hope yall enjoyed this as much as i hated writing this!! (i wanted to throw up) i acc hate how i wrote this. it's not as choppy as when i started writing it but it still feels so rushed and so idk.. anyway reblogs with comments are very much appreciated! >< ALSO that one paragraph written in brackets..guess whose speech it was inspired byyyyy (hint: bsd!!)

© TOORURS 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms is not permitted.

#toorurs #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail fluff #hsr fluff #hsr aventurine #aventurine hsr #aventurine x reader #aventurine fluff #aventurine angst #aventurine imgines #aventurine headcanons #hsr imagines #honkai star rail imagines #hsr headcanons

[undiscovered-horizon]

Hi! I really enjoy your one piece writings, they have given me so much comfort when I don't feel okay 😭

Can I please get a Mihawk (I'm completely in love w this man aah) imagine where his wife is a sensitive person who gets sad when someone is rude to them but they feel insecure couse they think it's stupid

Thank youuuuuu ❤️🥺

First of all, I'm honoured that I can provide a source of comfort to you. I'm glad my work has made you feel better in your time of need.

Second of all: oh yessss bestie this hits the spot. It also reminds me of a wonderful scene in The Gentlemen (10/10, highly recommend) [it also hits close to home because I am a sensitive person]

The thing about strong people is that they make others want to be just as strong, which isn't always easy if even possible. You've always known you're a little 'softer' than most people but only after marrying Mihawk did you find the difference in temperament bothersome. Instead of considering your sensitivity a fact of nature, you've begun to find it a flaw, something that you should change about yourself.

You've never admitted it to yourself but the truth is plain and simple - you think it's embarrassing. That Mihawk will find your sensitivity embarrassing. Maybe if you had been up-front about it with your husband, you'd learn that he adores your soft heart. If he felt forthcoming enough, perhaps you'd even hear that you're the source of warmth and light in his life. Hence he calls you his 'sun'.

To say that Mihawk grew concerned when he heard your muffled sobs would be like not saying anything. A delicious euphemism at best. Anger and fear bubble inside his chest. There's a strange itch in his hands that eggs him to wreak havoc.

"Apple of my eye," his voice carries well through the rather empty room you're both staying at currently. "What is the meaning of this?"

Frantically wiping away your tears, you look over your shoulder to meet his gaze. Mihawk is leaning against the doorframe, blocking the entrance if you so wish to run away from this situation.

"Oh, it's nothing. Really, I'm alright. No need to worry," you half-heartedly attempt to reassure him.

The swordsman loudly exhales through his nose. He's your husband, worrying about you is his duty. In slow steps, Mihawk walks over to the edge of the bed where you're sitting. Pride and titles as if forgotten, he drops on one knee in front of you. One of his hands gently squeezes your knee.

Unsure what's the best way to go about these circumstances, you timidly meet his intense gaze. The passion in his yellow eyes makes you think of a maelstrom captured in a jar - something devastating held back by a miracle. He's already seething, just doesn't yet know who exactly to direct his violence at.

"Indulge me," he prompts you to confide in him. There's a rare sense of pleading in his tone.

So indulge him you do - you tell Mihawk all about the unpleasant encounter with a local tearaway. Your husband tries his best to control his expression as you recount the unambiguously offensive words, unwanted touches and threats of real violence coming from someone who was probably looking for a cowardly scapegoat to vent his anger. As you continue your story, tears just keep rolling down your cheeks, fear and humiliation finally finding their way out of your heart.

"I know I'm being stupid," you mumble as you clumsily wipe your face, "he was just rude and it's not like he actually hurt me but-"

Mihawk's touch makes you cut your sentence short. His hand, its skin rough and calloused, gently cups the side of your face. Your hot, salty tears disperse as his thumb slowly rubs them away. Something about the tenderness of his touch, of hands that have killed and maimed, is enough to make you feel like you're about to break in his arms. Even if you do, you know that when dawn breaks you will be whole again, put back together with the unending love Mihawk holds for you.

"You've always been too good, my sun," he tells you in a low voice. He could have said 'too soft' or 'too sensitive' but then his remark would come off as deceitful as it would suggest his dislike towards your nature. Nothing of that sort - Mihawk genuinely thinks you're a better person than most people walking this plane. And he'd rather succumb to torture than let anyone make you feel bad about that.

The man leans in and places his warm lips against your forehead. Without much effort, he lays you down on the bed and you let him. Even if you wanted to fight back, you're way too tired to do so.

He's sitting on the edge of the bed, caressing your face, neck, arms and back as he's waiting for you to fall asleep. The anticipation doesn't require much patience - Mihawk's tender touches lull you to peaceful slumber rather swiftly. When he's sure that you're asleep, he kisses your forehead again before cautiously leaving the bedroom and closing the door behind him.

Perhaps he can't turn back the time and make the offending man choke on his words but he can ensure that the tearway won't hurt you ever again. Someone resting in peace so you can rest peacefully is a good bargain.

Mihawk knows exactly who he's looking for. He made a note of a certain characteristic trait you had mentioned - an earring with a single, red-coloured feather. It doesn't seem like a piece of jewellery that would be common anywhere.

It doesn't take much to find the tearaway. He makes his presence well-known as he stumbles out of a tavern, his legs almost giving away with each step.

So he assaults random women minding their business and then gets blackout drunk. It's pathetic enough to consider his death merciful.

Staying true to his name, the swordsman stalks his prey before lunging. Appearing as another patron of the inn, Mihawk follows the stranger around the corner towards barns, stables and pigstys. Fitting place for the likes of him, Dracule thinks to himself.

The man with the curious earring staggers his way towards a drinking trough. He's fumbling with his pants, desperately trying to pull them down to relieve himself but his fingers are not dextrious enough.

Mihawk picks up the pitchfork leaning against the barn wall. In one, swift motion he gores the tool through the back of the man's knee. A guttural scream tears through the night as he falls to the ground.

The swordsman grabs a fistful of the tearaway's hair. He forces the kneeling man to look up into his seething, yellow eyes.

"Do I owe you money?" The man is slurring his words. He squints his eyes, trying to focus his hazy vision on Mihawk and, possibly, recognize his creditor. "It's money, isn't it? Shit, just give me two days, man. I'll give it back with interest."

"I don't care about money."

Instantaneously, panic appears in the tearaway's eyes. Did he just find himself in the same position he's put hundreds of people in to cure his own boredom and need for grandiosity?

"Then what it is?!" he shouts, fear settling in his viscera. Dracule's calmness put together with the sheer hatred emanating from him makes for a deeply unsettling impression.

"You hurt my wife," comes the answer. The fist clenching the man's hair tightens its hold further, threatening to tear off his scalp. "My wife," Mihawk growls.

But before the tearaway can ask for clarification, his head is forced into the drinking trough. Surprised and scared, oxygen is escaping him fast. Soon, his throat and chest begin to clench and throb painfully. Dark spots dance across his vision, foreboding blindness.

Then, Mihawk pulls his head just above the surface. The man desperately gasps for air.

"If you believe in a god," the swordsman begins in a low voice shaking with anger and adrenaline, "I suggest you start praying. Fast."

The tearaway's head is forced underwater again but this time, Mihawk keeps it there until the ruffian's body stops trembling and shaking. After that, Dracule waits for a while longer - just for good measure.

You're woken up by the creaking of doors as they slowly open. Blinking sleep away from your eyes, you look over your shoulder only to experience a sort of deja vu: Mihawk is standing in the doorway. Before you can ask about his strange behaviour, your husband makes his way to you in long, quick strides. He kneels on the floor beside the bed.

Mihawk takes your hand in his. He takes something out of his pocket and places it in your palm. You recognize the red feather earring immediately. And is that... a piece of skin still attached to it? Gently, your husband closes your fist and lifts your hand to place a chaste kiss on your knuckles.

"The rat has paid for its sins," he whispers to you. Judging by the intense look in his eyes, you don't want to know the details of this story.

#one piece x reader #one piece #mihawk x reader #mihawk x you #mihawk imagine #mihawk fanfiction #mihawk fanfic #dracule mihawk #mihawk #dracule mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk x you #dracule mihawk fanfiction #dracule mihawk fanfic #dracule mihawk imagine #one piece fanfiction #one piece imagine #one piece mihawk #one piece dracule mihawk #one piece x you #one piece fanfic #one piece live action #opla #mihawk opla #dracule mihawk opla

[slytherinslut0]

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Twenty Eight--Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

Tags: 18+, SMUT, Rough Sex, Slapping (for sexual titillation), Dirty Talk, Multiple Orgasm, Overstimulation, GUNPLAY, Outdoor Sex, Gagging, Choking, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, ANGST ANGST ANGSTTTTTTT!!!!! GET THE TISSUES OUT!

FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

In the aftermath of your heartfelt confession, the ambiance shifted beneath the curtain of rain. Mattheo's initial warmth, which had enveloped the moment, began to withdraw, slowly being replaced by his usual guarded demeanor.

Tension, thick and tangible, emanated from him, as if he yearned to retract, to voice a refusal. The gaze that had once been soft, akin to melted chocolate, now bore a stark reluctance. It was as though the vulnerability you had glimpsed moments earlier had transformed into a protective shield, guarding him against the intensity of the unexpected revelation.

Undeterred, you pressed forward, defying the cooling atmosphere with a resolute step. Your hands, a gentle insistence against the encroaching frost, found their place on his face. Amidst the rhythmic percussion of springtime raindrops, your eyes held an unbroken contact, mirroring the pounding cadence of your heart. A silent gaze held him in place, allowing the weight of your words to permeate the space before you spoke again.

"Don't say anything," you whispered, the words borne on the breath of the rain-soaked air, a plea to let the unspoken emotions settle in the delicate stillness between you two. "You've said so much, Mattheo...you've shared so much with me...I don't need you to say another word...just...just listen,"

Mattheo blinked, the subtle motion accompanied by the quiet working of his throat as he swallowed. His hands, hanging at his sides, remained still as yours maintained their firm grasp on his face. An almost imperceptible nod from him prompted you to inhale sharply, capturing the breath in your lungs.

"Perhaps I lied to you..." you began, your voice soft, tender. "Perhaps I wasn't being truthful when I said I never believed in destiny...because in a way, I do...but I also believe that we are only destined to do the things we'd choose to do anyway..."

A pause ensued as you studied his countenance, your gaze tracing the scars on his skin and taking note of his perfect imperfections that shaped the essence of who he is.

"And I'd choose you, Mattheo...in a hundred fucking lifetimes, in a hundred different realities, I would choose you...every fucking time..." you declared, your grip on him intensifying. Your hands trembled, mirroring the tremor in your voice. "I don't care about your history, I don't care about any of the bad things you've done...everything you've been through has made you who you are...and I am fucking in love with who you are...every single part of you...your smart mouth, your cheeky smirk, every line and every scar..."

Drawing him nearer, you gently guided him until his forehead found solace against yours. His hands discovered the curve of your waist, pulling you into an embrace that emanated urgency, a profound need to absorb every syllable you uttered, each word a testament to the depth of emotions shared between you.

"Your skin, absent of its scars, would be like a sky without stars," you murmured, your shared breaths blending in the intimate proximity. "I didn't fall in love with you; I fucking walked into love with you--with my eyes wide open, deliberately choosing every step along the way. Everything you've revealed changes nothing, Matty...I love you, utterly and unequivocally."

A profound silence enveloped the space, and time seemed to elongate into a suspended realm, each passing moment an eternity. His eyes, a tumultuous storm of unexpressed feelings, gently fluttered closed, his lips parting as his breaths, once steady, now took on a rhythm almost akin to panting--a visceral manifestation of the emotions swirling within.

His hands, deliberate in their motion, traversed the landscape of your back, ascending with a sense of purpose. As they reached your head, his fingers, fueled by a desperate urgency, found purchase, gripping your face with a fervor that spoke volumes. In this charged atmosphere, his eyes, concealed behind closed lids, hinted at the vulnerability beneath the stoic exterior. The suspended moment begged for release, aching for the words that lingered on the precipice.

"Say it again..." his murmured request, laden with longing, reverberated through the charged air. "I just-"

"I love you," you said, the words firmer this time, your hands threading behind his head, fingers entwining in his soaked hair. "I love you..."

His jaw tensed, and he released a shaky breath--his eyelids fluttering, the grip on your skull tightening. "Again."

"I love you," you repeated, your voice gaining strength, fingers digging into his scalp as though you could force the words through. "I fucking love you, Mattheo Riddle."

Breaths intermingled, and your grips on each other surpassed the hold of any chains or restraints. In the pulsating intensity, your minds spun with a whirlwind of thoughts. Was there a sweeter arrangement than this? He gets to ask you, over and over to repeat it--while you get to tell him, over and over, that you mean it.

Your nails dug into his scalp, foreheads pressing together with an almost painful force. "I thought it would be impossible to ever find someone...to ever be with someone, when beneath my surface of composure, I'm scattered in a million different pieces--like a puzzle with missing parts..." you paused, lips softly grazing his. "But then you showed me that every piece doesn't have to be in place to create something beautiful...something real...that love can exist in the most imperfect, lost, broken people."

A guttural noise escaped him, resonating low in his throat as his fingers dug into your skin, cradling your head.

You inhaled a shallow breath before you continued, "and I promise you, my love will be just as strong, just as beautiful, whether you, too, are in a thousand pieces, or just one.”

Mattheo, completely struck silent, locked eyes with your parted lips. In perfect synchrony, your gaze met his, and in that silent exchange, there was a mere gasp of air before his mouth was on yours. The passion between your bodies ignited into an unbridled inferno, refusing any attempt at restraint. His kiss was a slippery bruise, melding madness at your skin, tongue driving into you while he inhaled through his nose. You met him, movement for movement, groaning against him, fingers folding further into his hair, thumbs tracing the tops of his ears, and he groaned against your lips before capturing them again,

The kiss was unlike any before--a fervent blaze spiraling out of control, unwilling to be subdued for even a moment longer. His lips met yours with an intensity that felt almost primal; a hungry, desperate fusion of raw emotion and longing. His hands cradled your head with a force that hinted at an uncontainable desire, making you wonder if he sought to meld your very essence. The cool droplets of rain cascaded around you, soaking your skin to the bone, but you couldn't find it in you to care.

"I need you, princess..." he whispered, parting from the kiss, his hands gliding down your back as his lips found the curve of your neck. "But you already knew that, didn't you? Pretty girl..."

Your eyelids fluttered in response, fingers tightly grasping his hair, a desperate grip that mirrored the intensity of his kisses trailing down your neck. Your lip found refuge between your teeth as his mouth explored the path of rain cascading along your skin.

"My tainted little angel," he murmured, his words a provocative caress against your ear. "Crushingly beautiful...tender like a bruise..."

His hands, firm and insistent, sought the curves of your hips, fingers grasping at the wet fabric of your dress, tugging it upwards along your thighs. "You were the first sin actually worth hurting for...had me wrapped around your little finger before you even fucking touched me..."

You throbbed, a full-body pulse, humming into him with a shudder, Mattheo's lips moved back to yours, nipping at your lower lip before sliding to your chin, following the streams on your skin as he pressed clumsy, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, falling to suck and nibble at your heartbeat. Whimpering, you nuzzled your head into his, and he responded with a sharp bite to your neck, barely-restrained, earning a squeal from your throat.

"I told myself I was fine...that I was better off alone...never needed anyone, never wanted anyone...but then you came around, and after all this fucking time, after everything I put you through...it's still you, it's you who fucking believes in me..." he murmured against your skin. “You mean so fucking much to me…and when I finally admitted to that myself, when I finally let myself feel…you made me better, and I don't mean from being my tutor...you just made me want to be better...fuck, Raven...I wanted you to look at me the way you looked at the stars...I wanted to get better grades for you…I quit drinking and drugs because I wanted to be a better man for you..."

As he lifted your dress beyond your hips, your hands eagerly joined the movement, gathering the fabric's hem and peeling it over your head. His eyes traversed over every inch of newly exposed flesh, absorbing the sight with an intensity that spoke volumes. You observed as he swiftly shed his suit jacket, stripping the soaked fabric from his frame and laying it on the ground. His hands deftly moved to undo his belt, discarding his gun in the process. Returning a firm grip on your hips, he crashed his mouth back to yours, a relentless hunger igniting the kiss.

Moaning, you writhed into his chest, and he gripped your face, nails scraping your scalp while he pulled you closer, groaning into you, leaning--you followed him, chasing his kiss until you were both on the ground; him on his back, your legs straddling him, palms planted on his chest.

"I’ve had some, then most of you...all, and then none of you..." a soft, anxious breath escaped his throat, and he swirled his tongue over yours before biting your lip and pushing you up, hands settling on your thighs, rocking you back and forth over his thick erection, covered only by the thin fabric of his boxers. "I-I can't lose you again...it's you...it's fucking always been you..."

"Oh, Gods..." your voice cracked, emotion bubbling in your chest, threatening to spill out as you rolled your hips against him. He watched you, panting in rhythm with you, and you admired him--how fucking beautiful he was--his eyes stark with need, his mouth parted in open anticipation, his muscles tensing as he gripped and squeezed you, jerking his hips into your heat. "You won't...you fucking can't..."

Rain bathed you both, rivers roaming over your curves, white cloth of your bra a dewy illusion over your breasts. His thumbs skimmed your nipples with prickles of pleasure, and you moaned, head falling back on your shoulders. As if the sound awakened something inside him, he gripped your hips, flipping the two of you around until you were on your back beneath him, lips instantly moving to your neck, sucking at your throat.

You slid your hands under his shirt, savoring the firm contours of his body. He tensed, a low groan escaping into the intimate space between you, while his hips pressed against you with a force that seemed intent on melding you with the forest floor. Your fingertips traced the hard muscles, memorizing the damp, heated feel of his skin. In his voracious pursuit, he exhibited no restraint, extracting painful hickeys from the pulse at your neck.

The heat of desire surged between your thighs, and he moved lower, marking you with unrestrained passion. Tissue yielded to the pressure of his teeth, welts blooming under the fervent touch of his lips. Anxiety flickered through your mind as visible evidence of his ardor emerged, but the soft groan escaping his chest erased any concerns. Your back arched, willingly offering more of your untamed flesh to his insistent exploration. Grateful, he bit at the swell of your tits, crimson crescents blooming, and his hands moved to your underwear as he laved at your nipple through your bra, scraping it with his teeth through the fabric.

Mattheo fumbled at your folds, two thick fingers peeling you open, assessing your slickness, teasing your entrance. "Still so fucking wet for me..." he murmured, clucking his tongue. "And in the middle of the fucking forest...you'd take my cock anywhere I wanted, hm?"

You bit your lip, trying to grind against his hand. "What can I say...watching you use that gun did something to me..."

"Naughty, naughty girl..." he leaned to your ear, thumb skating your clit--you gasped. "Weren't you ever told to stay away from the asshole, weapon wielding bad boys?"

"Perhaps," you hissed through a moan as Mattheo pushed two fingers inside you--your walls tightening around him, hips twitching, head lolling against his soaked jacket. "Though I've never been good at following orders."

Mattheo huffed. "I'd say."

His mouth consumed you with a fervor, tracing a path of rich violet marks from your chin down to your clavicle, his spit mingling with the rain. Scissoring you open, he rolled your stiff clit, rocking his wrist, curling and working your walls, his other hand palming at his erection in an attempt to pacify himself. You bucked your hips, a shivering moan escaping, and he cursed, slamming in to the knuckle.

"If I fuck you now," he muttered at your jawline, "you'll have to take all of me. Everything I give you." He bit your neck, hard, forcing a cry from your lips. "I won't be able to control myself."

Heat scorched you, and you pulsed around him in anticipation, his fingers crooking in your wet core. Thunder grumbled in the distance. "Thought I'd long proved my capability."

Mattheo purred, and bit you again, pain shooting through you. "Earlier doesn't count, we were rushing...I need to wreck this tight little cunt...I'll fuck you harder and deeper than any of those assholes could ever fucking dream of..."

You shuddered, meeting his eyes. "Do your worst."

Snarling, he leaned back onto his knees, tore his fingers from your core and stuffed them in your mouth; you whinged in surprise, working to suckle them clean. Mattheo's free hand unleashed his dick, twitching eagerly despite its thick, heavy length. He jammed his hand to the back of your throat, and you gagged before he depressed your tongue, prying open your jaw.

"You know how this works." His gaze locked onto you, and the sky seemed to ignite with lightning around him. "Beg for it."

When he released you, you gasped into the rain. "Please, fuck me."

In the blink of an eye, his hand struck you, unleashing a spray of saliva from your parted lips. "That was pathetic," he snickered. "I fucking said beg."

Your face burned--humiliation, shock, and most importantly: desire. If this is what he meant, you wanted more. "Why don't you fucking make me?"

"There's that dirty mouth..." Mattheo smirked, shifting as he reached for his gun, gripping it with his free hand while the other stroked his cock. Before you could process it, he brought the barrel toward your temple, pressing the cold, wet metal against your skull. "Last fucking chance, princess...if you don't beg for my cock I'll fuck you so hard you'll be begging for mercy instead."

A whirlwind of shame and yearning left your head spinning, the likely instigators of your brief lapse into temporary insanity. "I'm not scared of you, Riddle..."

“Oh, princess.” His smirk grew. "You should be."

Adjusting the gun, he compelled the barrel past your lips, the icy metal coating your tongue. His other hand delved into your hair, gripping your soaked strands tightly as he forcefully drove the gun deeper into your throat. Then, without warning, he broke you open, splitting your core with a deep, harsh thrust, head slamming your cervix. You cried out against the weapon, body recoiling in pain, hands moving to his hips, and he shook you in reprimand.

"Oh, no--don't fucking bother." He drove his palm into your head, his nails scratching your scalp. "No running. Take it."

Mattheo pulled out fully before ramming back into you, spearing you with his cock, your body quaking with the force of each of his violent thrusts. His breath was already ragged, furious groans pushed from his chest as he fucked deep into you. Your lungs were empty, failing to find oxygen in his onslaught, your walls squeezing his length in delight, drool spilling down your chin and mingling with the flow of rain.

"Fuck--such an insatiable little cunt..." he growled, his eyes drilling into yours, taunting you through his gaze. "It missed this cock already, didn't it?"

Another deep thrust, meeting your cervix, and you winced, groaning against the gun as you tried to nod.

"That's right...shit..." he pulled the gun from your mouth, strings of drool hanging like garland from the barrel, quickly being washed away with the rain. "My girl...my fucking beautiful, filthy girl..."

He tossed it onto the ground next to your head, drawing his hand down toward your belly, slick fingers rubbing merciless circles on the bundle of nerves in rhythm with his pistoning hips--you wailed, drooling with pleasure, assaulted with a sudden, immediate need to orgasm.

"Fucking hell, you're so tight when you're about to cum..." he groaned, punishing your pussy with hard, rapid thrusts. "Prove you can take it. Cum on this cock."

Between the attention on your clit and the size of his dick, you snapped, convulsing and trembling while your blood flooded with flames, blazing heat through your thighs and to your toes. Above you, Mattheo hissed, fucking you through it, valiantly holding off his own orgasm as yours fizzed at your flesh. When your core's pulsing slowed, he shifted, propping your calves up his shoulders before he leaned forward and clamped his palm down on your neck.

"Don't squirm, baby..." his low voice commanded, and as you whimpered, squirming beneath him, his grin deepened. His eyes, now wild and intoxicated with desire, held a promise. "I gave you fair warning."

His free hand pinched your cheeks, slowly sliding out before slamming back in and pounding your cunt, growling breath leaking from his lungs, his hold on your throat tightening. The pressure in your head only doubled the frenzy of being fucked--you wheezed, your pulse thumping in your temples, and this spurred him on, drilling you with a depraved stare as he plowed into your tight pussy again and again and again.

The rain was steam on your skin, thunder a distant noise behind the sound of slapping skin and your strangled, whimpering moans. Your walls clenched and fluttered around his throbbing dick, sore clit twitching once more with a growing demand to be sated--Mattheo grunted, tugging you closer, eyes drilling into yours.

"Open that filthy mouth."

Wincing, you complied, parting your lips as he commanded. Without hesitation, he leaned down and spat into it.

"Now swallow it. Show me."

With determination etched on your face, you managed to comply against the pressure of his massive hand. Popping your jaw apart with a grimace, you showcased your resilience, earning a smirk from him. In response, he rewarded you with a series of both painful and blissful strokes of his hips, pushing your body to its absolute limit. Your breath had vanished ages ago, your heart now a wild entity, coursing through your veins.

"Poor baby," he sneered, feign sincerity in his tone. "I think you need to cum again."

He snaked his free hand between your legs, rolling your aching clit, and you groaned--or tried to, anyway--the speed of your pulse resonating through the grip on your neck. He felt it, too, head bowing in pleasured shock as you thrummed around him, your oncoming climax massaging his thick cock with every new thrust.

"Fuck." Resolute, he rubbed you faster, watching you--in his gaze, you saw nothing but an endless, dark void of lust. "Who do you fucking belong to?"

The words barely made it out. "Y-you, Mattheo..."

His choke tightened, and your vision blurred. "Who owns this tight little pussy?"

"You--you do, Mattheo..." you gasped.

"That's right," he sneered, and swirled your nub so quickly you squealed. "Cum for me, princess..."

The force of your orgasm surged through you, blurring your vision, and you screamed, choked by his hand as every muscle below your waist convulsed in a rapturous ecstasy. Your pussy milked and squeezed his cock, but he resisted his own climax once more, sinking into you until you descended. He drank in the sight of you--eyes rolled, raindrops scattered like diamonds on your skin, your throat and chest smothered with the evidence of his possession.

"Good fucking girl...take me...take all of me," he muttered, voice low and deep in the night air. "Every single fucking inch."

Mattheo shifted again, one arm coiling under you to fist your hair, the other cranking your leg back until your knee hit your chest. Groaning with pleasure, he hammered into you, stretching you wide, filling you to the base. Soaked strands of his hair slid into his eyes, and he tossed them back, wetting his lips and fucking you deep, trapping you in his feral gaze.

"You love me." He tilted your head back with a deliberate motion. "You fucking love me."

You nodded, not a shred of hesitation. "Yes-fuck! I do!"

He swallowed, inching closer, his forehead tenderly meeting yours. "After all of it," he whispered, the words almost lost in the shared breath, "after everything..."

Your chin quivered, and the revelation about his parents cut into your heart, a painful echo of his turbulent past. It hurt, yes, but it also felt like the a groundbreaking revelation, the ending to the story which finally explained why he was the way he was. There was an undeniable understanding that surged between your hearts, a silent recognition that both of you needed love in ways only the other could provide.

Despite the turmoil, you couldn't blame him for something so deeply rooted. The man craved love as desperately as you did, neither of you ever willing to admit it. In the synergy of your souls, there existed an undeniable connection, a perfect harmony that transcended spoken words. Even in the hushed language of silence, your hearts resonated, acknowledging that there would never be two souls more perfectly suited for each other than yours.

"After everything." You wrapped your arms around him, safe when lightning crashed, rocking your hips in his pace. "No matter what."

"Fuck." He wound your hair in his fist, and wrenched your head back, tearing at your throat with his teeth, harsh thrusts pulverizing your cunt. "...I'm--fuck--I'm going to make you break again." His hand left your leg, long fingers back to stroking your tender clit. "And then I'm going to fill you up with my cum."

Senses barraged, you shrieked, overwhelmed and oversensitive. He wasn't fucking joking. You wanted mercy. "Fuck! Mattheo! Please-please-"

"No. Take it," he snarled into your ear. "Take it."

He assailed your nub, and you quailed, curling around him like a snake, shaking from the overwhelming intensity of his power, lids shut while he nipped your neck, demolished your pussy, panted hard into your ear.

"You're mine." He growled, his voice shredded raw with lust. "Mine."

"I'm yours!" You shrieked, nails digging crescents into his back. "Yours."

"Fuck-" he hissed, slamming harder, deeper. "Mine! All fucking mine..."

"Yours! Fuck!" It was all too much, too great, brain crashing into a wanton mess. "All fucking yours!"

Your body convulsed, teeth sinking into your lip, propelled through a realm of heightened sensitivity into an ecstasy that seared your skin. Gasps and incoherent pleas spilled from your lips, a desperate supplication for release, for him to unleash the crescendo that would send you soaring and screaming and cumming.

"That's it," Mattheo growled, pumping into you, folding you into his frame. "You're taking me so fucking well baby, just one more...cum for me, angel."

Your senses fractured, caught between euphoria and disbelief, and your body spasmed, climax radiating through your every fiber, a luminous burst that shattered any remnants of sanity, setting Mattheo ablaze in its wake. He groaned, grunted, burying himself to the hilt, warm cock pulsing as he poured hot cum deep into your cunt. For a moment, he didn't move, silently working to catch his breath before he pulled back, shifting onto his knees.

You fixated on him, your head weighed down, struggling to fathom the endearment he had bestowed upon you--silently endeavouring to etch every detail of this encounter into the recesses of your memory. A contented sigh escaped you, accompanied by a smile that radiated the joy swelling within your chest.

However, as you gazed at him, basking in the warmth of affection twinkling in his eyes, you noticed a flicker of something else--an abrupt shift. His thumb grazed your chin absentmindedly before he moved, working to tuck himself away. You mirrored his actions, attempting to salvage what was left of your clothing, now thoroughly drenched by the relentless rain.

Walking through the forest on your way back to the castle, the shadows of the trees played in the puddle-soaked ground, creating a surreal dance around you. Mattheo extended his hand, a silent invitation you willingly accepted. The brief connection sent a comforting warmth through you, grounding you amidst the uncertainty.

As you navigated the path, thoughts swirled like the mist around you. The night's events echoed in your mind, and a cloud of questions veiled the clarity you sought. Contemplating a potential job at the castle, you wondered about its impact on your newfound bond with Mattheo. Did you still harbour the same enthusiasm for the job amid these compelling complexities? The walk became a journey through both the tangible forest and the intricate maze of your thoughts, navigating the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

Approaching the castle, the distant melody of music embraced the night air, whispering promises of celebration within. Capturing the tune, Mattheo halted abruptly, pivoting to face you as the two of you lingered just outside the castle walls, hidden by the shadows of the night.

Your brows furrowed inquisitively as you locked eyes with him, seeking to understand the meaning behind this sudden pause. "What are you-"

"Shh." He cooed, eyes darting around.

After a brief survey of the surroundings, he fixed his eyes back on you with a newfound emotion swirling within them. Without another word, Mattheo enveloped you in a tender embrace, guiding your arms to rest on his neck as his firm hands settled on your hips. Bathed in the gentle glow of castle lights, he initiated a graceful sway to the rhythm of a slow, melodic tune that harmonized seamlessly with the rain-soaked ambiance.

In the suspended moment, your gaze locked with his, the world around you blurred as the rain continued its gentle descent, creating an intimate cocoon amidst the springtime storm. It felt perfect, a clandestine world of your own, away from the prying eyes of others.

"All those people think love's for show..." Mattheo blinked, drawing his face closer. "But I'd fucking die for you in secret."

Your breath hitched, water welling in your eyes. You quickly blinked it away, searching his face, mapping it, along with everything else from this night into memory.

"How'd I get so lucky..." you tightened your hold on him, the raindrops adding a gentle percussion to the soundtrack of the moment. "A sky full of stars, and yet you're staring at me..."

"There's no need," he murmured, directing your head to lay against his chest. "Avere lei è come avere le stelle."

Your heart leapt. "How did you-"

"Notts been teaching me," he said, and you could practically hear the smirk on his lips, the pride in his tone. "You know what I said, don't you?"

You blushed, unable to stifle your grin. "I do."

He hummed. "Tell me."

"No," you whispered, fingers digging into his neck as you shifted your head to look up at him. "I'd like to hear you say it."

His smirk grew, and he peered down at you. "To have her, is to have the stars."

“Mm,” you glimpsed his mouth, brushing your lips against his as you murmured, "E averlo, è come avere la luna." (And to have him, is to have the moon.)

His smirk blossomed into a radiant smile as he gripped your face, drawing you into a profound, messy, deep kiss. Every fiber of your being quivered under the intense surge of emotions you felt for this man--love enveloping you entirely, and whether or not he uttered the words, you could sense it--right now, ten minutes ago, and every moment in between.

All you wanted, more than anything, was that he’d hold you tight, and whisper that you’d find a way to be together. But then, his hands fell from your face, wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you back into him. With his lips pressed to your forehead, he whispered,

“I’ve never loved anything, Raven…anyone…I didn’t even know I had a heart until you made it beat.” He murmured, tightening his grip. “Now this heart belongs to you. And I’ll fucking kill every last person that tries to keep you from me…”

You shuddered, breathing him in. “We’ll make it work. We’ll figure it out.”

He hummed, nodding softly, the two of you swaying to the gentle melody, ignoring the cold rain pouring down against your bodies. You weren’t sure how long you’d stood there, minutes, maybe even hours--but as the song came to an end, switching to another, more upbeat one, you smiled, meeting his dark, gleaming eyes.

“I love you, Mattheo.”

He pressed his lips to yours. “I love you, Raven.”

#mattheoriddle #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle #mattheosmut #mattheo x you #mattheo smut #riddlesmut #riddle smut #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle smut #tomriddle smut #tomriddlesmut #theodorenottsmut #theodore smut #theoriddlesmut #theodore nott smut #theodore nott x reader #theodorenott #theodore nott #theo nott smut #severus snape #draco malfoy smut #draco smut #draco malfoy #enzo berkshire #tom riddle #harry potter #severus smut #mattheo #mattheoxreader

[satoruxx]

pairing: toji fushiguro x reader | 1.2k words summary: fluff, toji being his sarcastic asshole self, but secretly a softie, more grumpy x sunshine content to feed the soul, reader is a uni student, toji ACTUALLY having MONEY???? rheya's note: more grumpy toji bc i'm in love w him !! this is lowkey not great but i have nothing else to post so here <33

you drum your fingers against your lips, eyes scouring the racks of pastries and sweets to satisfy the steady rumble brewing low in your stomach.

a quick snack before your final exam—that's the plan. so you let your eyes wander until they fall on a warm croissant, looking oh so delectable with its crusted flakes and buttery goodness. so you smile to yourself and head over to the register, eager to get your hands on the snack after a long morning of hard work and studying.

you wait patiently behind the customer in front of you, tapping your foot idly as you scroll on your phone to pass the time, until the cashier calls you up with a wave of his hand.

"what can i get for you?" he asks, and you immediately tap your finger against the glass.

"a croissant please."

he nods, reaching out to grab it with a napkin before dropping it into a paper bag. you fiddle with your wallet, pulling out your credit card and handing it to him, but his expression turns slightly awkward.

"oh sorry," he winces, turning around a sign next to the register. there in bold letters it reads: CARDS NOT ACCEPTED. CASH ONLY.

your shoulders drop, fingers frantically digging into the crevices of your wallet even though you know there isn't any cash in there.

dammit. should've gone to the bank to withdraw some after tipping the delivery guy last week.

"i don't think i have cash on me…" you trail off, face heating up because you're sure that the customers waiting behind you are now slightly ticked off.

the cashier scratches at his wrist awkwardly, giving you a half apologetic shrug. "sorry…"

your face twists, embarrassment thrumming low in your stomach as you shut your wallet with a resigned sigh. "it's fine, you can just leave it—"

"i got it." a deep voice utters from behind you, tone careless. you turn to look over your shoulder only to find your throat going dry, because whoever you were expecting to see was nothing like what this man looked like.

a towering, imposing build, heavy with muscle. sharp, angular features framed by jet black hair that just barely tickled his neck. and deep green eyes that are staring down at you, emotionless. the only change in his features is the tug of his scarred lips when they take in your wide eyed expression.

"oh—uh—" you stumble, caught off guard, the words coming up all jumbled like you've forgotten how to speak. the man moves closer, now hovering right behind you as he reaches a bulky arm out to drop a few bills onto the counter. you inhale sharply, not expecting the proximity.

"that about cover it?" he tilts his head at the cashier, who has gone quiet. he nods, too quickly, a nervous dip in his brows that you don't quite comprehend. but then you glance at the man again—at his hulking frame and narrowed eyes and his unkind expression, and you guess you understand.

and yet, nothing about him is inherently scary. he's intimidating, but in an oddly comforting way.

"a-and anything for you sir?" the cashier asks, giving the man a nervous smile.

"coffee. black." his tone is clipped, unbothered, and the cashier nods. he reaches over and hands you your bagged croissant.

"then if you could just wait to the side and we'll have your coffee ready in a minute, sir."

the man nods once, glancing at you briefly before taking a few steps to wait to the side.

"thank you," you say quietly, feeling oddly parched as you look at him. he peers down at you with those striking eyes, and you offer him a smile—half sheepish and half grateful.

"don't worry about it," he replies with a shrug, casually shoving his hands into his pockets. "couldn't have you holdin' up the line."

he nods behind you, motioning to the line, and you huff indignantly, ignoring the flare up of embarrassment once again.

"well if they put the sign on the door then i wouldn't have walked in here like an idiot," you mutter, crossing your arms. he chuckles, low and deep, shaking his head with amusement.

"'s true," he grins. "pretty fuckin' stupid of them."

you don't expect him to agree, so you just nod, mildly surprised.

"you look like you haven't eaten all day," he comments offhandedly, glancing around the cafe like he's bored. you fiddle with your hair somewhat self-consciously, and he glances down at you from the corner of his eyes. "i just mean you look exhausted."

"oh," you reply lamely, a helpless shrug of your shoulders following. "well i have a final exam in an hour and i didn't get much sleep last night."

"at least you studied hard," he hums, reaching out over the counter to take the cup of black coffee the barista hands him. he turns to look down at you with a haphazard shrug. "you did what you could. no point stressin' about it now."

"i guess…" you trail off. "still nervous though."

his lips curl upward, eyes glinting. "you should be more confident in yourself, kid." he takes a sip, tilting his head down at you, before turning and heading out into the cold.

you stare after him, not sure what to do with yourself. somehow you didn't expect it to be so easy to talk to a man who looked like he wanted to burn the world to the ground, but surprises can come in all shapes and forms.

and for some reason, his intimidating aura and indifferent stare has you oddly curious.

it's only when you peer into your paper bag, seeing the croissant that you've heroically been gifted, do you come up with a plan, pushing the door open and hurrying out into the cold. your eyes immediately catch his retreating figure, still large and imposing even with how he's hunched over to escape the bite of the cold.

"wait!" you call out after him, catching yourself before you trip on your own two feet. he pauses, turning to look down at you while arching a brow as you try to compose yourself. "uh—"

"toji." he fills in, huffing quietly as his hands remain shoved deep into his pockets.

"toji," you repeat, not admitting to enjoying the way it rolls off of your tongue so easily. "i need to pay you back."

he clicks his tongue, shaking his head. "ah, don't worry about it, doll." the scar on his lips tilt upward into a half smirk. "just ace that test of yours, yeah?"

something leaps in your ribcage, and you blame the flush crawling up your neck on the stinging cold. you're not sure what to say for a second, but then an unfamiliar confidence crawls through your veins, culminating in a burst of determination.

"i'll buy you something here next time!" you don't know how or why you say it, lips clamping shut because you're sure that you're coming on too strong or coming off weird or something.

a low chuckle. you look up in surprise.

"sure." toji's grin widens, eyes shining with mirth. "i'll hold you to that one, kid."

and later, when you bite into the croissant, it's warmer than you expected it to be.

#jjk x reader #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen #toji fluff #fushiguro toji x reader #jjk #toji headcanons #toji x you #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujustu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro #zenin toji x reader #toji zenin x reader #toji x y/n #toji drabbles #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen drabbles

[eternalxvenus]

⇢ ˗ˏˋ broken promises pt. 2 ࿐ྂ

summary: Rafe promised to take you out and spend your birthday with you, but you don’t hear from him all day and then suddenly he shows up at your door trying to explain. (this is part 2 to the birthday girl angst blurb! i changed the title for the series so it was more appealing)

cw: mentions of drug use, angst, nothing crazy (yet lmao)

wc: 1.2k

notes: i'm excited to write this since its my first series! lmk if there's anything you guys would wanna see in future chapters :)

previous chapters: part 1

You wake up to your alarm droning on annoyingly and feel around aimlessly with your eyes closed to turn it off. Once you had finally woken up on your own accord, you realized you should talk to Rafe. You hadn't spoken to him or left your house the last few days. Obviously, you missed him, but you just felt so hurt and angry with him.

After getting ready and using makeup to look a little more alive and less blotchy from crying so much, you decided you'd go up to Tannyhill to try and talk to Rafe. You left your house, hopped on your bike, and started towards the estate. The whole ride there, you just kept going over what you wanted to say but nothing seemed right. Before you knew it, you were at the front entrance.

You walked inside and heard voices in the distance coming from upstairs. Once you made your way upstairs, you heard the voices more clearly coming from Rafe's room. It was Rafe and another person whose voice you couldn't pinpoint.

"Come on, man you gotta understand where I'm comin' from. I've just been stressed out. Nothing a good time won't fix."

You looked into the room and saw Rafe sitting with some guy you've never seen. There was a table in between them that had some rolled-up bills and coke sitting on it.

You walked inside the room, still unnoticed until you spoke. "Hey, Rafe."

Both of their heads snapped in your direction, and Rafe immediately shot up, walking towards you.

"Shit... I uh- I didn't know you were coming over." He looked back at the man who just sat there unbothered. "Barry, can you uh give us a minute..."

"So let me get this straight, you went to a party and got high, missed my entire birthday, and after I tell you I'm pissed off your next line of action is to get high again with your drug dealer, right?"

Before Rafe could speak, Barry grabbed his stuff and started walking out. "A'ight man hit me up when y'all are done dealing with this shit."

Rafe waited until he thought Barry was far enough before closing the door and speaking, "Can you blame me? I don't hear from you for days so I assumed you didn't wanna be with me anymore! I tried to talk to you and you straight up ignored me."

"I was angry Rafe! I just needed some time to myself. That doesn't mean I'm breaking up with you and it doesn't mean you should start doing drugs again when that is quite literally what we fought about." 

This definitely wasn't how you imagined this conversation going. You didn't want to argue with him but your pride wasn't going to let you just back down.

"If you wanted space you could've told me," he sighed. "And I am sorry that I got high at that party and I'm sorry I missed your birthday okay? I want to make it up to you."

You walked over to the bed and sat down for a moment with your head in your hands. You loved Rafe, you really did. But you didn't want him falling into his old habits and lying to you about it.

You both sat there in silence as you thought about what you should do and what you should say.

"Rafe I... I think we should just take some time apart. Get our heads straight and figure out what we want-"

He walked over and sat next to you his eyes wide. "Baby I want you, I want to be with you."

"I wanna be with you too, Rafe, but I have conditions. I don't want you doing coke anymore. I don't like the person you are when you get like that. I know you get stressed and feel like it's your only option but you have me. Or maybe try weed and see how that works for you. I also don't want you hanging with Barry anymore. Non-negotiables."

He nods "I swear I'll work on it and I'll talk to Barry. I swear."

You stand up from the bed getting ready to go out the door. "Rafe... I'm gonna go stay with my parents on the mainland for a few days. I'll be in contact but please try your best to just leave me be. Get clean, for good, and I'll let you know when I'm back and we can figure everything out. Okay?"

He shakes his head. You can see that he's angry and confused, your heart just aches. "The mainland? What- why? Just stay here, I don't understand-"

"Please, Rafe. This is what we have to do okay?"

He took a few deep breaths and ran his hands through his hair. "Okay... okay. When you get back, I'll have made it up to you. Just promise me we aren't over." 

You could see the tears that formed in his eyes and had to fight back your own. "We aren't over just yet." You gave him a kiss on the cheek before leaving his room and heading home.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

You were finally off the ferry and on the mainland to stay with your parents. You really wanted to talk to your best friend to get advice so you asked her to pick you up. By the time you reached your house, she was all caught up. Your parents weren't home so you both went straight up to your childhood bedroom.

"Damn... I didn't think he got down like that." Niki looked at you slightly surprised. "Honestly though, it sounds like does care about you, even if he did fuck up."

"Yeah, I know he cares I just... I don't wanna have to worry about shit like this. Whenever he's all coked up he makes irrational and bad decisions. I'm just worried he'll do something and end up in jail or worse."

"You just have to let him know that. Make sure he knows your anger comes from a place of care. If he feels like you're just judging him, it'll probably piss him off."

You sigh and groan into your pillow. "You're right, thanks Niki."

"Don't mention it. Now, let me catch you up on the mainland gossip!" she squealed.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

Niki had gone home and you were getting into bed, ready to sleep after what felt like an exceptionally long day, when your phone chimed. You looked and saw you had a text from Rafe.

Rafe: hey I just wanted to make sure you made it to the mainland safely.

You: yes I did, i'm at my parent's house, thanks for asking.

Rafe: of course, goodnight

You: goodnight

Placing your phone on the dresser, you're thankful he doesn't push the conversation further. You decide you'll only stay here for three days before going back to the island to figure things out with Rafe. You just hope he can work on staying clean and that you can go back to being together like normal. 

As you closed your eyes, ready for sleep, you heard another chime from your phone. You groaned before picking it up to check.

Topper: hey we need to talk, it's about Rafe.

part 3

likes, comments, and blogs are greatly appreciated!

taglist: @readingsmuts @1aarii1 @bingbongbum @stargirlsturniololover @babygirl229 @poisonedsultana @rafescamshoe

#rafe cameron #obx x reader #rafe x reader #rafe angst #rafe outer banks #outer banks smut #outer banks rafe #outer banks #obx smut #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #rafe obx #rafe cameron fic #black!reader #black reader #divider by: plutism #black writers #angst

[ange1ace]

DONT YOU LOVE ME ANYWAY?

tw: slapping, slight breeding kink, smut, dark!luke, corruption kink, daughter of aphrodite!reader

a/n: from your #1 yappist

There was something sacred about it-how he would desecrate-ruin you. Bruises littered your inner thighs, neck, anywhere he could find to mark you. Own you.

And he did.

There was some thrill in it for him, that you'd allow him to fuck with you like this, turn you into something as depraved and corrupt as him. Watching the guilt settle in your eyes when he finishes fucking you, mock disappointment crafting his words.

"should cover those up, yeah?, cant have everyone knowing what a cock dumb slut you are now, can we?"

People began to notice it, slowly. The way your face would burn with embarrassment turning into shame when they pointed out the hickeys. The fact that you were luke's toy to fuck and use as he pleases. And it was, until it became because even after he betrayed you, its his name that falls from your lips when you cum on your fingers.

You shouldve known better. Maybe checked the borders harder, more than twice-brought more weapons. Anything, that would take you back from being here. The metal presses against your throat, sending shocks of fear through you as he tilts your head up, back pressed against the rough bark of the tree.

Clarisse and the others had left camp for some special mission, chiron called it, leaving you and the other year rounders. It was calm for the first few weeks, until it wasnt.

Monsters started attacking more frequently, breaking the borders which you couldve sworn you thought could never happen. And there was only one culprit. The same one that had his head between your thighs-just weeks earlier and now a knife under your chin.

"isnt it past curfew sweetheart?" he asks tilting his head as he smiles "should report you for that"

Like the fucker cares.

Your eyes scan your surroundings, looking for atleast a dagger, seeing most of your weapons discarded too far from arms reach. He sees you, of course, eyes darkening in irritation.

"None of that yeah? just want to talk-"

Something in you clicks, anger that causes you to almost bite at him. "now you want to talk? you fucking left me luke!, no note, not even a simple goodbye-i had to hear about this from annabeth, a-and you want to speak to me with a sword at my throat?!"

He shifts, eyes moving to unreadable, as he backs up only slightly.

"There wasnt enough time-couldnt get you roped up in this shit and risk somethin' happening to you, you wouldnt have understood-"

His words fall on deaf ears, not caring-trusting-what he says anymore. You're quick to move, acknowledging that his sword is now at his side, completely out of the way. The first fist hits and you cant tell when the second one reaches. He lets you hit him, takes it until it actually begins to hurt, grapping your wrists as you attempt to fight his grip. He discards his sword on the ground, moving his other hand to keep you still. "Stop before you hurt yourself" he says sternly, backing you right up against the tree. Theres tears on your face now, he cant tell if they're from sadness or anger, choosing the latter pains him less.

"Just calm the fuck down"

Its the same tone he would use with you before, whenever you'd ask him to stay with you after he'd fuck you for hours on end. Producing the same result, tears brimming along your waterline until his tone changes. "I'm sorry okay? just dont-dont-fuck- stop crying, cant take it when you do that to me"

Your lip stops trembling, soaked eyes looking up at him as his hand cradles your chin. Its silent, none of you knowing what to say anymore and even though, you know better, you kiss him. Your lips are soft against his at first, but when luke gets over his shock? he's all teeth and blood. Violent and angry and so so desperate. Your brains in a fuzz, a high from the way hes kissing you. Maybe you've spent too long alone since he left, maybe you should've moved on. But whatever it is that leads you to do something like this, you're to fucked out of your brain to care.

Fuck elysium, he's got his own little heaven right here, in the way you sculpt your lips into his, letting him find solace in you after everything. His hand reaches to the curve of your waist pulling you into him, as he begs you to let him go further. To fuck out his frustrations onto you once again. He's sick for even asking, and you? you're just as bad for agreeing.

He practically rips of your skirt, ruining the pretty lace hem, muffling your protests with his lips. "I'll but you ten, okay a whole fuckin' set after-"

A promise you know he's not going to keep, but for now, you let him have it. His hand trails over your panties, pressing the damp spot he sees there. "That desperate huh? been waitin' for me princess?"

Somewhere in your stupor, your lips form into a pout.

"Dont be silly"

His lips form into a smirk at that, slapping your clit from your tone as you yelp. "Yeah? you've just been whoring yourself out since ive been gone?-looks like i needa remind her who she belong to hm?"

Another slap connects at your silence.

"Y-yes-fuck-please-n-need it so bad-" you babble out mindlessly, pushing your hips up into his hand-a desperate attempt to get some friction. He chuckles at your neediness, like his cock isnt leaking through his pants right now. He pulls your panties to your knees, fingers teasing at your hole, gathering your slick before he's sliding both inside of you. The sound you make is pathetic, giving him exactly what he wants, to see you pliant and indigent for him again. He's not slow or careful, instead fucking you with his fingers like hes almost enamored with the motion.

"L-luke-!" you whine, when you feel his other finger pinch your clit, the stimulation making your body jolt in pleasure. "I know, baby, I know-'s really abandoned her didnt i? dont even know how much ive missed this pretty pussy"

His words are so sweet, an illusion for how fucked up this all is. He continues to pump his fingers into you, feeling how you tighten up around him as his hand goes back to circle your clit. Your hips buck up into his hand, letting him use it as motivation to move faster. Head falling back, feeling the familiar tightening in your stomach as whimpers emit from you, eyes rolling back in pleasure. Your brain goes white when you cum, thighs trembling as you clamp down on his hand. He pulls out of you, watching the wetness that drips down your thighs.

"theres my girl"

He's quick to pull out his cock, all angry and red, precum dripping along his veins. He rubs his cock along your thighs, shivering at the feeling. He's slow at first, easing himself in, until he fully enters you, a wheeze coming from him.

shitshitshitshitshit-shit-" his thighs quiver, jaw clenching from holding himself back. "g-gotta relax for me, mami-fuck-"

He buries his head into your neck, gritting his teeth as his hands tighten on your hips. It take everything in him not to just rut into you right there.

For your sake, he tries to be slow, be patient as he thrusts into you at an antagonizing, gentle pace. You mumble something under your breath, begging him to go faster, to ruin you again, to break you. And he remembers that really? he was never a patient man.

His hips snap into yours, his movement prompted from that primal need to fill you with him to the hilt. Its disgusting, lewd-almost pornographic sounds that come from you as his curls stick to his forehead from sweat. He fucks you like an rabid animal, harsh, violent and angry-he doesnt understand whats wrong with him-why he needs it so bad. To feel you clench around him, scream out his name as if everythings normal again, as if he's human again. He presses against your stomach, causing a mixture of a moan and a sob to come from you, as he moves against you faster-harder.

He's on cloud nine when you clamp down on him. Hips stuttering, choked out whimpers falling from him as he buries his face back into your neck to try and stifle his sounds. Stars dance across your vision, and you swear you're drowning-mouth formed in a permanent 'o' shape, thighs trembling as you sink deeper. Crash after crash of ecstasy hits you-coming in relentless hard waves that make you see white. Your speech is slurred, rambling about how you love him so much-need him so much, begging him not to leave you again.

And thats what pushes him over the edge. He knows hes gonna leave you again, abandon you like the piece of shit he is, but the reprieve he has is too good to deny. He cums with a fucking sob, your name echoing from him like a solemn prayer, not even recognizing the fact that he just came inside of you as he holds you to him.

He cleans you up, carrying you back to the aphrodite cabin. Lucky for him, its empty. Most of the year rounders being in his old cabin. Laying you down on the bed, as your eyelids flutter, he sits on the side of your sheets, watching your face until you fall asleep.

And whether its guilt or regret, this time he stays and holds you until he disappears in the morning.

#luke castellan smut #luke castellan #luke catsellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #percy jackson x reader #pjo series #pjo #charlie bushnell #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan fanart #just pretend this makes sense #yeah! #zee writes ౨ৎ

[urfavhecate]

My body’s changed | Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Mommy!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Wanda avoids your touch after pregnancy, but you want to show her that she’s still beautiful.

Warnings: comfort, SMUT (MINORS & MEN DNI), one shot, mommy kink, fluff, fingering, making out, eating out, short one, Wanda receiving

Note: hey. This is the first smut I’m posting. English is not my first language, so I’m sorry for any mistakes. I hope it won’t end up that cringy.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

After many years of relentless suffering, you and Wanda finally found peace in a small town called Westwiev. Far from the Avengers, far from danger. Everything was going your way, the house, the two wonderful boys that Wanda always dreamed of. But motherhood was more tiring than it might seem. You and Wanda haven't had any intimacy since the kids were born. When you tried to initiate a little intimacy, Wanda always said she was tired and powerless. But it got worse and worse when a woman pulled away when you tried to hug her or locked the door when she was changing in the bathroom.

That day, tired Wanda leaned against the dresser as you approached from behind and wrapped your arms around her waist, hugging her. Much to your annoyance, Wanda moved away from you and your touch.

“Wanda, honey, what’s wrong with you?” You asked worried “From the moment the children were born you have avoided my touch”

“I don’t” She rolled her eyes and started folding her clothes and hiding them in a drawer.

“Wanda, please” you walked up to her and you grabbed her hands in yours “tell me what’s going on” you worried about her, you loved her with all your heart, you knew she loved touch so when she started refusing you felt that something was wrong.

A single tear flowed down Wanda’s cheek “Y/n my body’s changed a lot” She didn’t want to look in your eyes “I don’t want you to feel disgusted” her voice was shaking and more tears showed on her rosy cheeks.

You looked at her in complete shock. You couldn't believe she'd ever come up with such an idiotic idea. You loved her, you loved her body before and after pregnancy. She was perfect in every way. You stroked her cheeks, wiping the tears away. Seeing a woman and her body as the mother of your children made her even more beautiful. Her bigger thighs, slightly protruding belly. Everything was perfect.

“Wanda, my love, my beauty what are you even talking about. I would never feel disgusted because of you. You are perfect” Wanda finally looked into your eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks all the time. “I don’t care how you look like, I’ll always love your body”

"But-" before Wanda could say anything, you interrupted her by kissing her lips. You could still feel the tears running down her cheeks, but she still deepened the kiss. Your hands are wrapped around her waist nad hers softly touching your arms. “I missed this” she whispered.

“Me too” you said quietly. You've missed her all along, intimacy, comfort, just her.

You led her to bed and gently laid her down. You wanted to take advantage of the fact that the kids were asleep. You climbed on top of Wanda as you kept kissing her. When the silent moans left the woman's mouth, you started kissing her neck. When you bit gently her neck, she moaned louder and muttered a quiet “please”. You took off the sweater she was wearing and kissed her chest and her swollen breasts.

“You are the most beautiful woman in the world,” you looked up at her, and your hands wandered down her waist.

You kissed her belly, and her fingers got tangled in your hair, and you kept going down and down until you finally got to her pants. You took them off slowly, and you knelt down kissing her thighs.

“Please Y/n, please I need you” Wanda moaned, she was craving for your touch.

You licked the line through its wet folds. It was soaked by your touch. The woman groaned and squeezed her thighs. You gently sucked her clitoris, and two fingers slipped through her wet pussy. The woman's moans echoed throughout the room, and your fingers went in and out of her. Wanda crawled underneath you until she was getting close to orgasm. She stuck her fingers in your hair, holding you where she needed you.

“Y/n- I’m- I’m so close” she moaned loudly “I need- to cum-“

You added a third finger when her orgasm went all over her body. She screamed with pleasure and her whole body was shaking. You licked her pussy the whole time you had an orgasm, and then you licked all the wetness. You climbed next to her, and Wanda cuddled up to you pretty fast.

“Thank you” she whispered softly.

“My beautiful and the most beautiful in the world” you whispered. She fell asleep quickly after that, happy to know you will always love her body.

#wanda maximoff #the avengers #mommy wanda #mommy k!nk #smut #fanfic #scarlet witch #wanda marvel #westview #marvel #fluff #comfort #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff smut

[tb3ih]

APOCALYPSE ⨳ satoru gojo

[ the world is caving in for EX-BOYFRIEND!SATORU--he thinks ]

⨳ word count: 2.7k !

⨳ warnings. post-breakup, non-sorcerer!au, "treating wounds tension" + underlying notes of unfinished love. contains nsfw (MDNI) — oral & fingering (f!receiving), cunnilingus, missionary, creampie & aftercare (?)

⨳ notes, happy love day to the satoru enjoyers. everyone else... well, maybe you'll learn to enjoy him after this. ( thank you to @ktsumu & @difficultdomains for mothering this fic, i appreciate you both sm <3 )

there is nothing quite like the loneliness of being the strongest. GOJO SATORU doesn't allow himself to pay any mind to the void which separates him from the rest of his kind, though at times he wished he could rid himself of it entirely.

his pace is slow and lacking in rhythm, tall frame swaying and trying to keep him from planting face first into the pavement as his body carries him down the familiar path. the metal in his mouth has yet to subside and the male is nearly on the edge of consciousness until he recognizes the entrance to your apartment building.

he does not knock, simply entering the code at your door knob and praying it hasn't changed since the last time he's been there. and it hasn't, because no sooner after he presses the enter button, the lock clicks and a small chime resonates from the door, allowing him in.

the door doesn't creak, so he swings it open just slightly to allow himself in, but one step into the living room and suddenly he's forced into the wall of the hallway behind him, something cold and sharp pressed against his throat.

gojo satoru has never feared for his life, but the glow in your narrowed eyes as you hold him in place and press the knife against his throat has his soul threatening to escape through his throat. and then something shifts, your eyes changing in emotion and just as fast as you appeared because you're no longer against him, tucking the knife away in its holster and standing before him.

"satoru? what are you doin--satoru!" satoru doesn't remember your embrace being this warm when you catch his collapsed body, but then again he hardly remembers anything at all these days. "oh my god--is that blood? jesus, satoru!"

he hums out a reply, vision a little fuzzy around the edges as he tries to register the dimly lit living room of your apartment. he hears you curse out, muttering about how heavy the male was before setting him gently down on the couch. gojo's vision is going in and out, his consciousness indecisive because one moment, you're gone and the next you're standing over him, brows pinched in concentration as you clean something off his face.

"hold still," you say quietly when you feel him try to move from his position. you're seating next to him on the couch, tying off the stitches at his brow. putting your tools down, you wipe the bit of crimson from his pale face before covering it with a bandage. his cerulean eyes watch you unwaveringly, but you refuse to return his stare.

you may have only one life, but there were things better left untouched.

the rest of his bloodstained clothes remain in a heap on the floor near the couch, revealing that most of the blood you had previously witnessed was not his. you stand, grabbing your first aid materials and putting them on the counter. when you come back, you hold a glass of water in one hand and some painkillers in another.

you set them on the coffee table, sitting down next to him once more to adjust one of the bandages you notice has come loose around his shoulder. "y/n..."

you pause your movements, eyes carefully meeting his. you regret your decision the moment you see the way his irises spill with an emotion you wish you could get rid of as easily as you did your assignments.

"why are you here, satoru?" your voice is so quiet, you almost don't hear yourself. why did you come back? is what you wished you said, but you can't risk reopening a wound you've stitched up too many times.

the male purses his lips for a second, racking his mind for an answer that won't push you even further away from him. "i... didn't know where else to go..." he brings his other hand up to your face, fingertips ghosting your cheek out of fear he might break you if he does make contact. "please, you’re… all i have left…"

you inhale sharply, something forming in the back of your throat. "please, don't look at me like that," you beg, but you don't move an inch as he starts to move closer to you, his hand coming to gently hold your face.

"why?" it is quiet in the room and his face is only a breath away. he is close, too close, but you can't bring yourself to pull away.

something hot escapes your eye, the pain in your chest flaring up again and causing the nerves on your skin to ignite. "because," you start, voice breaking off a little before continuing in a whisper. "i might actually believe that you love me this time."

his thumb catches another tear before it can make it all the way down your cheek. "and what if i said i did?"

"you are a cruel man," you reply, never breaking eye contact with him.

something glints in those beautiful blue eyes of his at your words and you know you'd never be able to get rid of him even if you tried. "then maybe you can teach me a thing or two about being good."

silence settles around the both of you, neither of you wanting to say something that might unravel whatever it is that's built up in these few fleeting moments.

“oh, satoru,” you finally say, a bit of sad amusement tugging at the corner of your lip, “not even hell would be enough punishment for you.”

when his fingers go grab your chin gently and pull your lips closer to his, you can’t even find the strength in you to fight it. gojo pauses, lips moving from your eyes to your lips that are nearly touching his. 

he licks his lips. “then why don’t you show me what is?”

[n]sfw under the cut!

and you’re not breathing anymore. because in that instant you are telling yourself you loathe the man before you as you bring both of your hands to his face and finally push your lips onto his, all the oxygen in your lungs no sooner chased out by everything that is gojo satoru. 

though, you can’t say your partner is any better, because he’s pushing back with just as much force, lips molding against your fervently as his hands move to trail to your waist, lifting you with no effort to make you straddle his waist. you gasp, his fingers digging in just enough for the pain to be delicious as he holds you down against his clothed dick. you can feel the way gojo’s lips twist into a smirk that he’s got you wrapped around his finger, though you didn’t mind one bit. 

when was the last time you’d done anything like this? your hips move off muscle memory, grinding down hard against him at a slow, but steady pace that has gojo groaning into your mouth. your fingers find his hair, combing, tangling, and pulling his soft locks while he breaks the kiss to let his lips travel from your jaw, down your neck, and to the sensitive spot of your collarbone. 

“fuck, y/n,” gojo curses, pulling away to watch you pull off your shirt, lips swollen and pink while his eyes watch you behind a veil of something almost soft. you aren’t a fool though, you’re just as hungry as him. 

his lips attach almost immediately to your chest when you fall back into him, a combination of his incisors and tongue leaving hues of scarlet as his mouth dances across your bare skin. you can feel how painfully hard he is through his pants, the moan that escapes his lips almost making you chuckle when you drag your hand from his face to his chest and finally to the waistband of his pants, palming his length through the material. 

“damn couch is too fuckin’ small,” he growls against your skin, to which you respond by guiding him down to the plush carpet on the floor, the soft material on your skin not nearly as cruel as the leather of your couch. 

he takes your nipple between his teeth, tugging gently before swirling around it with his tongue, causing you to mewl out at the pleasure. “well, i’ve never actually tried to get dicked down on it before, but i appreciate the criticism,” you breathe out, the snarkiness in your reply inciting amusement in gojo as he sees you’ve gone back to your original self. 

“i was wondering when you’d gotten so soft,” he taunts, “thought i’d lost you forever.”

you scoff, “as if i’d let you think you’re the best in the business.”

he switches the two of you, toned arms caging your head in where you now lay on the floor. “prove me wrong then, gorgeous,” gojo says lowly. his eyes look as if they’re trying to devour you in the way that they trail down from your lips to your heaving chest, bite marks and hickies blossoming in reds and bruising purples all over. 

he keeps his eyes on yours when his hand finds the drawstring of your pants, undoing them in the blink of an eyes before hooking his fingers into the waistband and pulling them off entirely. his hand comes to your panties, fingertips ghosting over the already-wet patch of fabric. 

“you know, for a professional,” gojo starts, lips pulling into a mean grin, “you sure do let yourself get riled up easily.”

with one hand you pull his face down to yours by the back of his neck and with your other hand you grab the wrist of his hand pushing it against your aching cunt. “for a professional, you sure like to run your mouth,” you retort, continuing with a bit of impatience in your voice, “if you don’t shut up and fuck me, i’m going to have to ask you kindly to leave.”

at that, he chuckles, pulling your panties to the side to pressing a finger to your bundle of nerves. you shudder at the sudden contact, back arching involuntarily off the carpet as he starts to move. “well i guess i better get to it, then,” gojo chuckles lowly, dipping a finger into your soaking entrance. shifting his position, he moves down so that his head is in between your thighs before bringing his mouth to your clit. 

you hear him curse against you and you sigh, thighs closing in on his head as he starts to working his fingers in and out of you. curling his fingers, gojo relishes the way you shudder involuntarily, walls clenching around his fingers as he speeds up his brutal pace. there’s a familiar tightening in the pit of your stomach and the pleasure flooding your head has the edges of your vision looking fuzzy. 

“satoru…hngh–!” you’re a mess underneath him, hands shaking when they move to tug his hair harder. “s-slow down–please!”

the white-haired male hums against you in reply, detaching his lips from your clit to meet your eyes. “funny how you’re asking me to slow down, but this pussy’s beggin’ to be fucked,” he coos, watching the way you’re swallowing his fingers knuckles deep.

and you feel as if the world is a little off-kilter, the trembling in your thighs intensifying as your orgasm teeters on the edge of crashing down. and it’s just as you’re about to cum that he pulls his fingers from your aching cunt, leaving you gasping and sensitive from the sudden loss of contact. “satoru…?” 

and that’s when you feel it, his tip prodding between your soaked folds, dragging against your entrance with a pace that can only be described as teasing. gojo’s face comes to settling in your neck, one hand pressed on the carpet beside your head to support him while the other continues pressing his cock against you. “‘m still here, gorgeous,” he murmurs into your neck, voice low and a little strained. 

it’s taking everything in him to keep from pushing in and throwing every boundary between you two to hell. the lilt of your voice when you whined his name, the twist of your fingers through his hair, god, even just the taste of you on his tongue–it was driving him mad. 

if this was heaven, gojo would willingly repent if it meant he could devour you.

and when you curse out, calling his name like a mantra, only then does he snap back to reality, your teeth finding his neck when he finally does push in, your gummy walls giving him nothing short of a warm welcome as you swallow him whole. gojo pulls out till it’s just the tip teasing your walls before slamming his hips back in, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with just enough force to have stars dancing in your vision. 

“holy shit,” he breathes, groaning out at the feeling of your nails raking down his back. you feel his muscles flex as he adjusts above you, “i’m going to eat you alive.”

you place a feather-light kiss where you had just been biting down, whispering in reply, “so do it.”

and he’s smiling against your neck when he starts his brutal pace, grinding his hips into yours in a way that has a scream trying to claw its way from your throat. gojo is a muttering mess of moans and curses, the drag of his veins against your fluttering walls sending him into a state of euphoria. 

you feel that familiar tightening in your core, the continuous teasing of his tip against your cervix making you arching into the white-haired male above you, your nails drawing uncertain and indecisive shapes into the contours of his back. “satoru… i think i’m–oh god, please…”

gojo is definitely not thinking straight. from ecstasy washing through his veins to the faint stinging of your nails carving into his back, he wasn’t sure if there was any going back. he can feel the way you clench around him, pushing him closer and closer to his edge by the second. 

“y/n,” he rasps, unable to stop the stutter in his pace of his hips against yours. “...god, you–you’re everything…” this, here–the moment–is everything.

you almost don’t catch what he says solely out of doubt that he even said what he did. you don’t respond, only biting his shoulder to muffle the sound of his name as it comes tumbling off your lips in a scream. your orgasm washes over you and you let yourself go under, body shaking as gojo comes to finish following you. 

and when he does, it comes crashing. hips slowing to a halt against you, you hear him groan, frame shuddering as he empties himself into you. you feel the warm flood your walls, both of your frames heaving for air as you come down from your highs. when he finally does calm down, you’re already fading in and out of consciousness. 

you’re half-awake when gojo rolls off of you, taking his weight and his warmth with him when he gets up and collects himself. you don’t have time to actually feel the difference in temperature because only a few moments after he’s gone, he’s back again, arms locking your tired body against his chest as you’re lifted from the carpet. 

you’re barely hanging on to reality when you feel like you’re being embraced again, only this time it’s a blanketing kind of warmth. “satoru…” 

the male lays perfectly still against you, allowing you to adjust yourself and get as comfortable as possible. the moon peeks in from the sun window in your bedroom ceiling and gojo finds himself staring up at the distant twinkling of young stars galaxies away. 

none of the stars have exploded and the moon appears to have stayed on its course. when he looks back at you, you’ve already drifted to rest, breaths rhythmic and nearly silent as you remain cuddled against him. 

silly of him to think that the world was ending. 

after all, you were right here.

© tb3ih mmxxiv all rights reserved

#xx tb3ih #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu sorcerer #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu satoru #gojo #satoru #gojo saturo #satorugojo #jjk au #x you #x reader #reader x character #18carded!

[kisses4lao]

Guess who's suffering from writers block!!! No but fr I wanna write SO BAD but I just can't 😭😭 so take some twst pp hcs until I decide to work on commissions again

Not proofread idc shank me

♧CW!!! Fem reader! twst dick hcs duh, every NRC student EXCLUDING ortho, might have some other hcs too

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♧♧~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Riddle:

Its... cute? Idk how to explain it

He is VERY sensitive

5.5 inches

Slight curve downward

The tip is a really deep red

Cum is watery, tastes like rosewater(this is a fantasy world i can make cum taste like anything i want)

Balls aren't all that heavy, very soft and squishy tho

Likes rimming. No further comments

Trey:

EEK MY BOY

I'm gonna try not to be biased

Hes BIG tho

I know you've seen him. Let's be honest, we all know he's PACKING

So I'm gonna say a solid 7-8 inches with a nice amount of girth

No curve, but very veiny

Heavy balls. Like, HEAVY. Bros got a whole bakery in there

Soft pink tip

Cum is the normal consistency, he takes care of himself

If you're sucking him off he'll change the flavor of his cock and his cum to whatever you want (thank god for doodle suit)

Cater:

Easy 7 inches

Not too sensitive, it takes a while for him to cum

His cum is pretty thick, its all the spicy ramen he eats

Curve upward, huge thick vein going from his balls to the tip

Cum tastes salty, but not overwhelming

Will have his clones fuck you silly

Deuce:

Another small boy

I'll say 6 inches, no curve

Hes sensitive too, but not as much as riddle

He really like getting his balls sucked more than his cock itself

Cum is watery too, but it tastes good

Like sweet in a way

Tip is a light blue dont ask why

Ace:

Another small boy 😭

He is CLUELESS

Poor man is a one pump chump

5.6 inches, curve to the left

SENSETIVE. pussy got this boy on his knees

Balls squishy, balls soft?

Yes to both

His rip is red, like a blush red

Azul:

A good 6ish inches with a curve downward

Not as sensitive as you may think

I think it would be funny if the bottom of his cock had like little suckers or some shit

Tip is dark purple and he has some veins, not many tho

Heavy balls, no squish :(

Cum is thick and black bc octopus

Tastes like what watered down hand sanitizer smells like

Jade:

😨

Its slimy.

No further comment on that

No but its like wet, a lot

So is floyds but we aren't there yet

Its like lube 🥺

Okay but he's LONG

8.5 AT LEAST

He also enjoys rimming

Tip is dark cyan

Cum is slimy too

Add some borax water and sell it on etsy

Floyd:

Basically the same as Jade

Hes smaller tho

Hes 6 inches but has SO much girth

His cum is more watery than slimy and the tip is a light blue

Lots of veins too

Kalim:

6 inches

So sensitive

He begs.

Loves blow jobs but would NEVER ask for them

Heavy soft balls

A dark brown tip and there's lil red swirlies

Cum is thick

Tastes like coconut toothpaste

Jamil:

mmmmmmmmMMMMMMM

BIG

So big

Destroy me PLEASE

7.8 inches and a big curve upwards

Likes fingers in his ass, just like Kanye west

Doesn't like blow jobs he cums too quick :(

Gets overstimulated easily and when he does hes highly submissive

Cum a lil thick (its all the curry he eats)

Its yummy tho

Tastes salty and a lil sweet

Like a pretzel

Tip is a redish-brownish

Vil:

Hes a very odd case

Hes big, dont get me wrong

But mans does NOT have sex 😭

He complains it ruins his makeup

7.4 inches with a few veins

Oh yeah hes unclipped too idk why but he is

Tip is a pinky purple color

Balls got some weight, they're not sensitive

Rook:

Hes an even weirder case

Hes very big but almost NEVER penetrates you

Hed much rather be in between your legs for hours on end

Making you cum on his face gives him so much pleasure

He doesn't touch himself either

When he's eating you out he has one hand thrusting fingers into your pussy, the other hand thrusting fingers into your ass(hes an ass man I know he is) while he sucks on your clit the whole time

He cums on the sheets whenever you do bc he knows how good you feel

Hes 8.5 inches with a curve down, large vein going upward

A creme colored tip

Cum normal consistency, you don't know what it tastes like because he never let's you suck him off :(

Epel:

Small boy

Whimpers

A lot

Hes 6 inches with a curve to the left

Light purple tip bc I said so

Light balls, but no squish :(

Cum is watery and tastes like lavender oil

Idia:

Oh god

Contrary to popular belief he has a lot of stamina

He doesn't have ANY experience tho

Played a lot of hentai games but thats the extent of his experience

I think it would be really funny if instead of whispering dirty talk or praise during sex he tells you the fnaf lore

Like he'll be blowing your back out and he'll just be like "so the crying child was actually william aftons son-" and then he cums

After hes done and doing aftercare he'll quiz you on the fnaf lore

If you get any of the questions wrong he'll fuck you until you can't walk as a punishment

If you get them all right he'll eat you out for hours until you also can't walk

Win win honestly

8 inches

TIP IS BLUUUEEEEEE

Cum is thick and salty, he doesn't take care of himself

Heavy, HEAVY balls. Very sensitive

He loves blow jobs too

Leona:

8.8 inches, but if we're being real to how ACTUAL lion anatomy is hes closer to 3 inches but yall aren't ready for that convo

Not sensitive at all, it takes so long for him to cum

But when he does hes so sweet, whispering praise after praise to you and lots of kisses

Cum is normal consistency, a lil on the thicker end

Its a bit bitter with a sweet aftertaste

Hes also unclipped and I will not elaborate

Idk if lions have them but if they do then he has a knot, not as big as jacks tho

Heavy balls, they're sensitive

Brown tip, like, dark brown tip

Ruggie:

7ish inches with a curve down

Also likes eating you out

Doesn't like having his balls touched

They're cute and squishy tho

Cum is also thick and doesn't taste like anything

Tip is a light brown and has a vein going through it

Jack:

8 inches.

Has a huge knot. Physically cannot pull out when it comes to it

Cum tastes like strawberries

Doesn't let you suck him off often bc he doesn't wanna knot in your mouth

Also gets pleasure from eating you out

Tip is grey and sensitive

Malleus:

Hes also like rook in the way he'd eat you out for hours if you'd let him

But he does penetrate you

Our big dragon boy loves the feeling of being inside your tight cunt

Will probably cum if you praise him

He has 2.

One on top one on the bottom

The one on top is longer, 9 inches while the one on the bottom is 7ish, the bottom one is a lot thicker tho

He'll be so slow easing them in and almost never goes fast when it comes to sex

He sees it as love making

They both have a black tip and the cum is normal consistency, tastes like... eggs? Hardboiled don't ask

Oh yeah his cum glows in the dark

Lilia:

Idc what you guys say this man is SO EXPERIENCED

He knows how to have sex properly and can make you cum in seconds if he feels like it

7 inches, his dick is where all his height went

Because he's so experienced he doesn't cum easily

PINK TIP PINK TIP

His cum is normal consistency, a little watery maybe

Tastes like citrus

Silver:

Loves when you ride him

Likes missionary too tho

7 inches too

His tip is grey

Very sensitive and gets overstimulated easily

Hes also just very submissive in general

Cum is watery and tastes like what a new car smells like

Sebek:

LOUD

SO LOUD

CANT TAKE THIS BITCH ANYWHERE

Cries during sex

Loves when you pull his hair

Does he have horns? If he does they're very sensitive

Cums if you touch them

Hes a crocodile right

Nah he has horns

8 inches no other comments

GREEN TIP

Cum is thick and bitter

We love him tho

Balls squishy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♧♧~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n: im so fuckibg tired god help me

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland smut #twst #twst smut #jamil viper #idia shroud #leona kingscholar #malleus draconia #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #floyd leech #kalim al asim #lilia vanrouge #sebek zigvolt #epel felmier #rook hunt #vil shoenheit #jack howl #ruggie bucchi #all of these are x reader #twst x reader #twst x reader smut #twst hcs #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland headcanons

[hyunnie04]

puppy love

inspired by that one scene in skip and loafer where mitsumi pets shima's hair;; not my best but its cute jskfdh

kim seungmin x reader

genre: fluff, non-idol au

you have been staring at seungmin the entire day. not because of anything bad, it’s just that there's this one thing that has been bothering you lately. propping your fist against your chin, you let out a burdened sigh.

ever since he had dyed his hair this captivating caramel color at the start of senior year, which was only a few weeks ago, you can’t seem to get your eyes off him. 

the change was refreshing, like seeing him in a completely different light. it had suited him so well, the blondish gold complemented his features like it was supposed to be like that from the start.

whenever you would place your curious gaze on him, the gears in your mind start turning, unable to place your finger on what it reminded you of. it had definitely started to become sort of a routine for you.

you’re also pretty sure seungmin had figured out you have been burning holes at the back of his head during lectures or lunch. he would sometimes look back at you with a quirk of his lip and a questioning gaze, making you shift your focus to somewhere else, cheeks reddening like a child catching glimpses of their crush.

but now you are sure he looked like someone. but who? you’re trying to figure that out yourself.

you don’t know where this sudden fascination with his hair came from, was it because it made him look so handsome? or maybe the way it looked very cute whenever it flopped around when he moved? 

confused feelings for the caramel haired boy aside, you decide to let it go.

you were hanging out with the man himself and a bunch of other friends one afternoon and started scrolling through your phone. they wouldn’t mind, seeing as to how all of them were currently preoccupied with playing a board game.

“hey, you can’t just do that! you have to give me money!”

“i can do whatever i want!”

you subconsciously block the noise coming from your rowdy friends, very much used to the chaotic nature. your thumb landed on a really adorable picture of your sweet little puppy back at home, already missing him. a thought instantly strikes you.    

you look up from your phone. and then to seungmin. and then back to your phone. 

it’s the exact same?!

you’ve finally cracked it. he looked exactly like your family dog. comparing him to an actual dog sounded mean, but you meant this genuinely as a compliment, you absolutely adored your golden retriever puppy- haru, more than your own family. the longer you thought about it, it’s sweet demeanor and honey colored coat resembled kim seungmin right in front of you.

after thinking about this revelation, you kept it to yourself, out of context it could sound mean. the last thing you wanted was to offend someone when you meant it in an endearing way.

so upon walking home one day, hurried footsteps trailed behind yours, prompting you to turn to see who it was. it was seungmin himself, his hair flopping in the wind, resembling the cutest pair of puppy ears.

he finally stopped, panting heavily after chasing you for a good while now. he straightened up, opening his adorable mouth to say something to you.

you couldn’t help yourself, the thought of wanting to feel his soft looking hair.

“haru-” you cover your mouth as soon as the words left it, extremely mortified to have said it out loud.

“haru? who’s that?” seungmin teases your increasingly flustered state. “are you mistaking me for someone else?” it was too late, you have to explain now.

“no...its...my…family’s dog…” you blurted out, embarrassed of saying it in front of him. you had fully expected him to get mad but he doesn’t. instead, seungmin lets out a chuckle, his eyes crinkling in what seems to be delight.

“well, my hair is really soft.” he watches your face morph into confusion as he tucks his hands coyly into his pockets. he wasn’t mad?

 “do you want to touch? you've been staring at it all week.”

seungmin wasn’t known for being touchy with his friends or anyone for that matter so you can imagine the shock on your face when he leans down to your level, silently allowing you to do so.

placing a hesitant touch on his honey hued locks with one hand, you slowly bring your other to ruffle his head, really going at it and much like you would do to haru. a grin graces your features as his strands get messed up, absolutely elated that you now know what his hair feels like.

once you were done, he straightens up and pats his messy hair back in its place as best as he can. seungmin quietly wraps an arm around your shoulder, as if nothing happened.

“got it out of your system?” you nod gleefully.

“good, now i can ask you out for a date.”

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz scenarios #seungmin #seungmin x reader #kim seungmin x reader #seungmin fluff #skz fluff #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x you #stray kids fluff

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 33 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Getting through your second presentation feels like a battle of wits against your own body. Then after weeks of barely being able to stomach anything, you are presented with the most enticing dinner. But it's the food that's alluring, not your dinner mate, and Bradley has a few things to say about the mess you get yourself caught up in.

Warnings: Swearing, adult language, pregnancy topics, angst, fluff, phone sex, masturbation

Length: 5800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

You slept like a lovesick log after your long drive back to the hotel from the cemetery. Exhausted from throwing up in the shrubs, you curled up in bed and watched the video you took for your son or daughter. You had recorded yourself reading both headstones and having a little conversation with your in-laws about the baby. It was just meant to be something you and Bradley could watch one day with the nugget, but it brought a smile to your face. 

You were decidedly no longer smiling when you woke up on Wednesday and had to race to the toilet. "Why is this happening again?" you asked the bath mat as you curled up in a ball. You had another, longer presentation to give. You had admirals to chat with. You had a whole lot to get done today. You didn't have time for this right now.

Even brushing your teeth was a chore. Changing into your uniform was an issue. At least your pants felt a little looser today. You honestly could not keep up with the way your body was bloated half the time and normal the rest of the time. 

You realized your makeup was pretty much the only thing holding your life together at the moment as you swiped on some mascara. Then there was a knock at your door, and it felt like you were doing the same thing all over again today, because essentially you were. You and Cat had to struggle with the bin of equipment. You had to fight to stay awake in the rental car. The nausea was turning  your life into a game of sheer determination to keep the bagel that you ate from coming back up. 

"Are you okay?" Cat asked you a few minutes before the presentation was about to start. 

"Of course," you told her in what you hoped was a reassuring tone. "Why wouldn't I be?" You shrugged and smiled serenely at her. 

"Because you're sweating bullets. And you've been pacing around the hallway."

You cleared your throat and insisted, "It's just really hot in here."

"It's not," she replied. "Please. I'm begging you. Just keep it together for another ninety minutes, okay? After that, you can do anything you want. Hell, I'll do anything you want me to do. But we need to get through this presentation." 

Her voice sounded panicked, and now you were looking around the hallway for a garbage can. But it was too late. The two of you were being called into the presentation room. Commander Patterson and Admiral Klein were sitting in the front row smiling at you. Shit, more admirals were here today. Oh fuck, all of these people wanted to hear your extended presentaion. A bead of sweat rolled down the back of your neck, past your shoulder blades and along your spine. You wanted Bradley. You wanted Bradley to hold you and let you throw up everywhere and tell you that you were still pretty and that he loved you even if you cried on the toilet and ate crackers while you lay on the floor. 

Tears burned your eyes, and Cat looked like she was going to scream. Pull it together. Ignore the sensation. Clip the microphone onto your shirt. Start talking. 

"Good afternoon. Lieutenant Coleman and I are back to expound upon our research presentation from Monday which covered communications engineering at Top Gun. You can find a copy of our slides in the information packet in front of you. Please hold your questions until we pause for a break. Let's get started."

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

Bradley really wasn't doing well without you at home. He was barely eating anything besides cereal and sandwiches, and he was going to bed hungry at night. The only fun he'd been having was slowly filling up that pink and blue notebook with his musings for the little nugget.

He was having a hard time sleeping, and he didn't like how quiet the house was. Even Tramp kept looking for you, occasionally running to the front door and whimpering. "We'll see her on Friday," he told the dog as he had potato chips and coffee for breakfast on Wednesday morning. "Two more days of this bullshit." 

When he got home from work on Tuesday, he broke down in tears as he looked at the photos you sent him from the cemetery. You even took a video where you were talking to him and the nugget and his parents. He still couldn't believe you took the time to drive there and make it so special for him. After he finished crying, he made his way back up to the attic where he took the half wall down to the studs. Then he realized that he really needed to call some contractors before you came home and saw the mess he made. 

While he drove to work in the red Bronco, he left messages, hoping to get some estimates in the next week or so. One thing that he'd been slowly coming to terms with was the fact that you didn't need him to take care of you by paying for everything. Both of your incomes were going toward the mortgage payments and all the necessities. You'd both been saving money for the future, and he figured the future had arrived since there was a baby on the way. 

When he parked in the garage on base, he noticed he had some new texts from you.

Baby Girl Bradshaw: I miss you. I'm struggling today. I think the nugget hates me. I'll call you later after my presentation and all of this other shit is over. 

He wanted to text you back, but he didn't want to be a distraction, so he tucked his phone into his pocket and ran his fingers through his hair. He had been reading every pregnancy article online that he could find, but none of the tricks he saw were helping you with the nausea. You were probably just going to have to wait it out. He would be ready to rub your shoulders and put a cool washcloth on the back of your neck when you got home.

Bradley walked the long way around to the classrooms since he was early and didn't need to stop in the locker room to change. When he passed the stairwell that would have taken him up to your office and the engineering labs, he swore he heard Bob's voice. He paused, and he definitely heard Bob's laugh. When the door to the stairs opened, he heard Bob say, "We can always find out later tonight if you want to invite me to your room again." And then there was a very familiar, feminine laugh before Bob appeared ten feet ahead of him.

He stared at Bob, and Bob stared back as the door closed, leaving the two of them alone. Bradley thought back to the way Bob and Maria were looking a little cozy at brunch last Sunday. This was interesting.

"Hey, Bob," Bradley said with a grin. "How are you enjoying your new apartment with Maria?"

His cheeks immediately flushed pink, and Bradley bit his lip to keep quiet as Bob started stuttering. Frankly, he was proud of his friend for sounding so much more self assured a few seconds ago when he was tucked inside the stairwell with Maria. "I-I d-don't know... are y-you... I d-din't think that..."

Bradley let him flounder through a few more partial sentences before he said, "If you're hooking up with Maria Wilson, then good for you, man. Well done."

Bob cleared his throat, adjusted his glasses and ran his hand along the back of his neck. "Thanks," he muttered as he stared at the floor. 

"You want me to keep this information to myself?"

Bob's blue eyes went wide as they met Bradley's. "Please." He swallowed hard. "I don't think she wants anyone else to know." His voice was just a whisper as he said, "I'm sure she'd be embarrassed if people found out."

Then he turned and left Bradley standing there alone. He'd been in that position before with you. Before you made things official. And he had been miserable. "Poor Bob," he muttered as he followed him at a distance. The best case scenario would be if Maria confided in you when you got back from Annapolis. Bradley would have to be cool about you going to brunch on Sunday even though he already wanted you and the baby all to himself again all weekend.

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

You made it. Somehow you got through the full hour and a half. You nailed your parts, and so did Cat. You and she answered questions for at least an additional thirty minutes, and now she was packing up the equipment while you sent a quick text to Bickel. 

"Your research is very compelling, Lieutenant Commander."

You looked up into the eyes of Commander Patterson, and he smiled warmly at you. Unfortunately, the only thing you could really think about was the way you'd been picturing Bradley's cock the last time you talked to him. At the moment, you were so fucking horny, you felt like rubbing yourself against the wall and crying until you got some relief.

"Thank you, sir," you managed to say while you tried to focus on his face and his words. "It has really become a passion project, trying to keep actual aviators in the air versus the drone agenda. Real people making real decisions based on their surroundings and the immediate threats they are facing will always win out against a laboratory manufactured software protocol."

"I couldn't agree more." He took a step closer and said, "And the way you presented your findings made it so clear that you're eager for others to understand how important that is as well."

"Absolutely," you told him with a smile of your own. "And the funding for communications research is so important." 

You were probably going to have to go to the cocktail hour tonight just to get your face out there since you skipped the previous one to drive to Virginia. But you were almost instantly saved from having to do that as Commander Patterson said, "I'm planning on having dinner this evening with a few of the admirals if you'd like to join us. Cocktail attire. Overpriced steaks. You know, the usual." 

His slight eye roll had you laughing and agreeing immediately. That sounded a lot better than trying to ditch champagne flutes all night. You'd still be able to chat with some superiors, and right now, you were actually hungry. "That sounds great. I'll see if Lieutenant Coleman can join as well."

With that, his smile wavered a bit, but he told you the name of the restaurant, and you promised to be there at seven o'clock. Cat had all the equipment packed up, and she was ready for you to help her carry the bin. "Hey, you want to come eat an overpriced steak later? With Commander Patterson and some others?" you asked as you tried your best to lift with your legs.

"Why didn't you tell me before? I already agreed to some stupid happy hour with a handful of admirals, but I love overpriced food when you don't have to pay for it."

You laughed and said, "That's probably better. We can divide and conquer this way. Bickel will like that."

As the two of you hoisted the bin into the rental car, Cat smiled and said, "You know what else he'll like? The fact that we nailed the presentation again today. I'm sorry I doubted you."

"Don't do it again," you told her with a smirk. Of course then you promptly started falling asleep while she drove back to the hotel, and when you got to your room, you passed out in bed until it was time to get ready for dinner. 

It was only three o'clock for Bradley, and even though you wanted to call him, you decided to wait a little longer. You inhaled a pack of peanut butter crackers while your stomach growled loudly. "What is with you today?" you asked the baby. "You're finally hungry? Or are you going to make me barf again?" You got a loud rumble in response. "I know you like Daddy better, and we'll be home in two days. Relax."

As you redid your makeup, you started thinking about Bradley. And then you thought about how delicious he smelled right after he finished a workout. And then you thought about how nice and big his cock is. And then you thought about all the sounds he makes and the way me moans your name when his cock is inside you.

"Oh hell," you whined, pressing your thighs together. You needed to get some relief with your toys until you could get back home, but you didn't have time for that right now. The combination of being so hungry and so horny was almost too much to handle, and you ended up calling Bradley on the short drive to the restaurant. It was barely four there, so you were surprised when he answered. 

"Hey, Sweetheart."

Two words. He said two fucking words, and you were moaning and having a hard time focusing to drive. "Roo. Oh my god."

"What's wrong?" he snapped immediately. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," you gasped, parking the car and squeezing the steering wheel. "I'm just so horny. And Commander Patterson asked me out to dinner, and I seriously need to get fucked, Bradley. Like you have no idea how bad it is right now."

You could hear him mutter something, and then you thought you heard Jake's voice before Bradley quietly said, "Baby Girl, I'll fuck the absolute shit out of you all weekend. In fact, I can't wait to do that. I'll take care of everything you need."

"Daddy," you moaned, realizing you should have masturbated instead of taking that nap.

"But please tell me who the fuck Commander Patterson is. All I know is that you said he's that guy who asked if Top Gun aviation is the right fit for you?" Another moan escaped your lips as you thought about being a tight fit for your husband. "Yeah, you sound wrecked, Sweetheart," he crooned in that raspy voice. "I don't think you should go to dinner with some guy I don't know. I don't care what his rank is.

You sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "It's not just with him. Some admirals are coming too. I need to meet the admirals, Bradley. And I'm already at the restaurant." When you looked further up the block, you saw Patterson heading inside.

Bradley made a frustrated sound. "Text me when you can? And call me when you're leaving later?"

"I will," you promised as your stomach growled. You were so excited that the nugget seemed to want to eat this steak, you almost hung up before you said, "I love you."

You straightened out your black cocktail dress as you practically ran down the sidewalk in your high heels which you rarely ever wore except in your bedroom with your husband. The delicious smells from the restaurant were wafting out onto the sidewalk, and you were going to cry if there wasn't some bread or something already waiting on the table. 

"There you are, Lieutenant Commander." 

Patterson was waiting inside the entryway where at least the sound of the air conditioner blasting and the conversation around you was blocking out your growling stomach. He was smiling as his hand found the small of your back. "Our table is ready. We can go right there." 

When he applied some pressure with his hand, you lurched forward. Perhaps he was just trying to help you navigate through the crowd, but he could keep his hands to himself. He must have known you were married. You decided to make a show of pointing out some hideous artwork with your left hand, practically shoving your rings in his face. "That's a lovely painting, Commander," you told him, but he just smiled and nodded at you before pulling out a chair at a table set for four.

"Please, call me Derek," he told you as he sank down into the seat across from you, and then he started using your first name without permission. The one blessing was the fact that there was an enormous basket of bread sitting right in the middle of the table along with a variety of spreads and dips. 

You moaned softly and had to bite your lip as you reached for a soft looking roll and the chive butter. Derek was staring at you with parted lips and wide pupils. Had he never seen a woman eat before? Had you ever been this hungry before? You licked your lips as you spread some of the butter onto the roll, and then you took a bite and moaned again. 

Holy. Fucking. Shit. 

After weeks of feeling miserable, you finally knew you could stomach this meal right now. You were still so turned on, and yet your exhaustion was bone deep at this point, but the bread was like a lifeline to normalcy, and you were grabbing onto it. 

Derek cleared his throat as he watched you take those first few sumptuous bites. "I've got to know," he said smoothly, "exactly what would lure you back to Annapolis for good?"

You popped the rest of the roll between your lips and chewed it up before you said, "Nothing."

"There would have to be something. Better research facilities? Your own lab? Both of your degrees and your work are so impressive, you must know there would be endless possibilities for you here."

You were shocked. Running your own lab was your dream. The idea of being in charge of a research team made your skin prickle with desire. You hoped that could be a possibility someday, but you weren't even thirty-five yet. You figured maybe ten years from now when Bickel was getting ready to retire, you'd be able to take his place. 

"My own lab?"

Derek smiled, all white teeth and handsome expression, and then the waitress arrived. You wanted to jump out of your seat and hug her when she asked if you'd like to order any appetizers.

"Do you know when the others will be here?" you asked Derek. "Should we wait to order?"

He shook his head vaguely. "They'll be late. We can order. Get whatever you want."

You almost laughed giddily as you ordered three appetizers and then a steak dinner complete with garlic mashed potatoes and two vegetables. "We can share the appetizers," you said when he looked at you in surprise, even though you didn't want to. You placed your hand on your belly, trying to subtly thank the baby for cooperating right now. 

When the waitress finished taking his order and then departed, you asked, "Which admirals are joining us?"

"Hmm? Oh... uh, Rivera and Silverman."

You were not familiar with either of them which made you panic slightly. You should have done more research on who was attending each of the lectures. Why hadn't you done that? Oh, right... because you were too busy throwing up. The bread basket called to you, and before you knew it, you'd eaten more than half while Derek droned on about how amazing you'd be running your own lab. He didn't even know you, which made this more annoying than anything else, but your stomach was holding up spectacularly, so you could overlook it. You could have kissed the waitress when she came back with the appetizers.

"So, do you live alone?" he asked as you dipped two mozzarella sticks into some marinara sauce. You paused before shoving them into your mouth so you could chuckle. 

"No. I live with my husband and our dog." Then the fried cheese hit your tongue, and it was like you were living in a world of color after weeks in black and white. Your stomach gurgled pleasantly, finally accepting food once again. Tears of joy stung at your eyes as you took a forkful of crispy brussels sprouts and a potato skin.

Derek laughed and asked how old you were, but your mouth was full, so he said, "Let's just say, my career in Annapolis outlived my bad marriage. And that's been the case for many, many officers."

You swallowed the potato like it was a lead weight. That had definitely been the case for Cat, unfortunately. And you'd heard a lot of stories, sure, especially when you were at the Naval Academy. And perhaps that was part of the reason you fought against the mere idea of being with Bradley at first. One officer in a relationship with a civilian was bad enough, but two officers trying to make it happen together usually spelled disaster.

But you felt stronger with Bradley. The two of you worked hard to get through your struggles and end up in a better place. You and he were going to be parents, for fuck's sake. 

"Just sharing my two cents with you," Derek added, still smiling. "You're young, and you haven't lived it yet, but I can tell you that you'll go farther here than in San Diego. Especially if you're already open to the idea of having more."

You wanted to check the time on your phone; you must have been sitting here for over half an hour by now. The other two chairs were still empty. Derek was starting to get under your skin. 

"I'm open to the idea of pursuing my career at Top Gun along with my husband."

"He's an officer as well?" Derek asked with a laugh. "I'm sure he's having a great week back in San Diego without you."

You felt heat flame up your neck and into your cheeks as your steak dinners arrived. "Yes, he's an officer. He's a Top Gun aviator."

"He deploys?" Derek asked in disbelief before laughing harder. "You should make the move back to the east coast now, before he ruins your life. If he hasn't already."

He had gone from complimenting you to trying to humiliate you in a matter of minutes. You'd been blinded by the glorious meal, but the truth hit you square in the chest. As he picked up his fork and steak knife, you asked, "Why did you lie to me about two admirals coming? Do Rivera and Silverman even exist?"

Somehow his smile was still persistent as he said, "Sure, they exist. They went to the cocktail reception on base." You watched the knife sink into his steak as he added, "You're gorgeous. I wanted to get you alone. Let you know how much better things could be. Offer to set you up for a one-on-one meeting with Admiral Jennings tomorrow if you come home with me tonight. It's on the table if you want it."

In one quick movement, you snatched his plate away from him with the fork still stuck in the steak. "Okay, well fuck you, Derek," you snarled, standing up and waving for the waitress. "You're disgusting and delusional if you thought I would even consider going home with you."

"Can I get you anything?" the waitress asked cautiously, and you realized you were causing a bit of a scene now in the crowded restaurant. 

"Yes. I need boxes. Like a whole bunch of takeout boxes," you told her. "I'm taking all of this food with me."

"Right," the waitress replied, her gaze drifting to Derek who looked very unamused. 

"I'm taking his meal, too," you snapped. "Hurry up with the boxes."

She scurried away as you piled all of the food onto one plate and said, "You're so fucking stupid, Derek. I already have Admiral Jennings' phone number. I met her last year. I told her to her face that I'm staying in San Diego."

"Well then you're making a bad choice," he told you.

Then the waitress set down some takeout containers while you practically tossed the empty plate back at Derek. You scraped as much of the food into the first box as would fit before moving to the second one. "He's paying for dinner," you told the waitress. "And I'm taking one fork and one steak knife with me. He'll pay for those as well." You shoved the rest of the bread into the last box and then stacked them all up before meeting Derek's eyes. "You just ruined the first meal I've been able to stomach in weeks, asshole. And my husband is a nice man. Very sweet. Treats people with respect. But if he were here right now, you'd have a bloody face and some broken ribs." 

You picked up the boxes, grabbed the utensils, and made your way toward the exit. You went straight for your rental car and climbed inside before cranking the engine. Then you took a massive bite of garlic mashed potatoes before cutting off a piece of Derek's steak while you called your husband. 

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

Bradley was working out in the garage when your ringtone cut across the playlist you made for him. He practically dropped his barbell to the cement floor to get his phone from where it was sitting on the tool chest. "Sweetheart. I wasn't expecting to hear from you quite yet. Didn't we just get off the phone?" he asked with a smile as he ran his forearm along his sweaty face. "Not that I mind one bit." He was about to ask if you were done with dinner, but then he realized that you were crying. The sweat on his skin turned ice cold as he quickly asked, "What's wrong?"

"Roo," you wailed, and he started looking around the garage as if there was something out here that would help both of you calm down. "He ruined my fucking dinner!" you sobbed.

"What are you talking about?" he asked as he paced the length of the garage, running his fingers through his damp hair. "Who ruined it?"

"Commander Patterson."

Bradley honestly could not fathom how that guy had ruined your dinner. All he knew was that you told him you were horny as hell when you got to the restaurant, and that he didn't trust guys he didn't know around you. Most men were disgusting, and you were lovely and also pregnant with his child.

"Can you explain what happened so I can understand?" he asked as calmly as he could.

"Yeah," you sniffed, and he heard a car engine start up in the background. "The nugget and I were both really enjoying the food. Like really enjoying it, Bradley. You know how I've been, and this was delectable and exactly what we both wanted. Like it was so good, if you'd been there with me looking super sexy, I would have probably had an orgasm in the middle of the damn restaurant."

Bradley swallowed hard as he stood in the garage, wondering where the hell this was going. "I understand. You haven't been able to eat much, so that must have felt amazing. Now can you tell me what's wrong?"

"He ruined it!" you replied loudly. "He lied to me! There were no admirals planning on joining us. He tricked me into meeting him there, and then he gave me fake compliments and accolades about my work. He told me that I could get ahead with a career in Annapolis if I slept with him, all because he wanted to fuck me!"

Bradley almost dropped his phone. "Did he touch you?" he growled, switching to speaker phone as he rushed through the backyard toward the house and looked for flights to Maryland at the same time. "Did he fucking touch you?!"

"No!" you practically shrieked. "No, he didn't touch me! You think I'd let him get anywhere near me after he ruined my dinner?"

"Where are you now?" he demanded. "And what's this Commander fucking Patterson's first name?" 

Bradley was seeing red as he walked inside and slammed the sliding glass door behind him, and Tramp ran whimpering into the spare room. The earliest he could get out of San Diego on an eastbound flight was a red eye that left at 9:30, and that was nearly four hours from now.

"I'm not telling you his name," you said softly with a little sniff at the end. "I'm afraid you'll strangle him."

Frankly, if Bradley got his hands on the asshole, he'd probably wish all he got was strangled to death. "Where are you now?" he asked again, trying to keep his voice calmer.

"In my rental car."

"Alone?

"Yes!"

"Good," he replied as he clenched and unclenched his fist and headed for the shower. "Go back to your hotel room, and text me the address. I'll stay on the phone with you until you get there, and then I'll be out on a red eye that lands in Annapolis at 5:55 tomorrow morning local time. And then you'll tell me his first name, and I'll beat the shit out of him for ruining your dinner and acting like my wife is his for the taking."

"Bradley," you said firmly. "I do not need you to come out here. I already feel better now that I told you about it."

"Well, I sure as fucking hell don't," he grunted, peeling off his sweaty clothes in the bathroom. "Does he know which hotel you're staying at? And where the hell is Cat?"

You groaned and said, "No, he doesn't know. And Cat went to the actual cocktail reception with the actual admirals. I seriously hate Commander Patterson. But I did steal his dinner, so that's making me feel a little bit better."

His thumb was hovering over his phone screen, ready to purchase a seat on this flight. "Wait, you stole his dinner?"

"Yes. I took it. When I tell you the food was that good, Bradley, I am not joking. I housed most of the appetizers and the bread basket, and then I took his plate before he even got a bite of his porterhouse. I dumped all of the food into takeout boxes, took some silverware, told the waitress he'd pay for everything, and then I left."

Bradley burst into laughter in spite of himself. He could actually picture it so clearly. The haughty expression on your face. Your biting wit once you figured out what was going on. The way you must have looked dumping the steaks into the containers. "You're a damn force to be reckoned with, Baby Girl. Are you driving back to the hotel with all the food?"

"Yeah. I mean I did eat a few bites when I first got back in the car, because the baby was demanding it, but I'm absolutely going to eat the rest in my room. Fuck that guy. He doesn't even deserve his overpriced steak. It's mine now."

Bradley cradled his forehead in his hand and laughed. "Do you really not need me to come out there?"

He heard you take a deep breath before you said, "I miss you a lot, but I really do not need you to come out, okay? The nugget and I are fine now, ruined dinner aside."

"Alright," he murmured. "If you change your mind, you have two hours to let me know, and I'll be knocking on your door by 7 in the morning."

You moaned and whispered, "God, that does sound good. I'm back at the hotel. Heading up to my room now. Any chance you feel like having phone sex before I eat my two steaks and roughly four pounds of potatoes?"

"Fuck," he grunted, his cock already getting hard as he looked down at himself. "Yeah. A hundred percent. Let me just get in the shower here."

"Okay, Daddy," you muttered, and Bradley was practically tripping over himself as he started up the spray of water. Once you were safely inside your room, you told him, "I'm ready when you are."

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

You got off twice to your vibrator and your husband's sexy voice. It was so easy to imagine him in the shower with the sound of the water in the background. You could picture the steam snaking around his body while he held his thick cock in his hand. You could practically taste his skin and smell the body wash he was definitely using as lube. 

"That's my sweet girl," he crooned as you started to peak for the second time. "When I get you home on Friday, my mouth is going to be all over that pussy. I miss you so much. I want my wife and my baby with me."

"Bradley," you whined, legs bent and shaking as you got closer. "I need you to fuck me. I'm so goddamn horny for you!"

He grunted right into the phone and said, "Keep it up, and I'll break your new car at the airport, too."

And then you came. Hard. Your chest was sweaty. Your back was arching off the bed. The vibrator rolled out of your grasp, and you stroked yourself with your fingers and whispered his name over and over. 

"I'm about to come," Bradley moaned. And you could hear the exact second he was probably making a white mess all over the tile wall. You imagined it on your belly instead. 

You just wanted to go home, and when your back finally settled against the bedding you said, "I need you to promise to fuck me at least twenty times between Friday night and Monday morning."

"Make it thirty, Sweetheart," he crooned as he panted. "At least. I fucking need it, too."

You turned your head to the side where a photo of him was still pulled up on your phone. "Sounds perfect. Don't forget, I'm having dinner with my mom and dad tomorrow, so please FaceTime when you're walking out of work if you can."

"For the love of all things holy, please don't talk about your parents when I'm still holding my cock."

You giggled, and then he laughed. "I won't do it again," you promised as you sat up in bed, eyeing the takeout containers on the desk. "I love you, Roo. I'm going to eat Derek Patteron's steak, take a shower, and then pass out."

"I love you too, Baby Girl. Can you put your phone down by your belly?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed, pressing your lips together to keep from squealing at how sweet this man was.

"And I love you, too, my little nugget. Be nice to Mommy."

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

BG is all over the place... Roo probably has whiplash. Derek should be punished for ruining that meal for her and the baby. Just a few chapters left, and we'll have another series for them in the books! Thanks for reading! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 34

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