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allylikethecat · 11 months

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Matty and George number 14!! This is such a cool idea

Yay! Thank you so much for the prompt! I hope this is what you were looking for, and if it isn't that you still enjoy it! I had a lot of fun writing it- it was a nice break from working on my many WIPs. Let me know what you think!

❤️Ally

Kiss ... casually

Matty looked down at his notes app, frowning when he realized the only thing written was “cheese.” He knew, rationally, that he needed more groceries than just cheese. He had been on tour for the last six months and even before that his pantry had been embarrassingly sparse. He hadn’t even specified what kind of cheese. Was he looking for a block of cheese? Grated cheese? Those cheese sticks he had discovered in America and become absolutely obsessed with? Matty at two am when he decided he was going to be an adult and make a shopping list had not specified. The Matty of today knew that if it had been important enough for him, stoned and jet lagged, so tired he couldn’t even dream of falling asleep, to write down, the sole item on his shopping list, it was clearly important that he got the right kind. He didn’t want to light up tonight and then be hit with a wave of crushing devastation about not having the right kind of cheese.

He sighed. He would revisit the cheese. He tried to remember if he had toilet paper. He knew he at least had the one roll. It had been extremely comforting to take a shit in his own bathroom before he attempted to go to sleep the night before, he had missed his two ply after months on the road, staying in hotels and shitting in concert venues. It was so nice to be surrounded by his soothing, gray, stone walls, and the eucalyptus plant in the shower that he paid a woman to come water twice a week while he was gone.

She was also supposed to feed his fish. The fish that were mysteriously missing from their tank when he returned, but Sheila had been putting up with him for years and he wasn’t about to ruin that relationship when he suddenly couldn’t even remember if he had actually bought fish for the tank in the entryway or just thought about it. He was pretty sure other than the guys, Sheila might be one of the few people in London that didn’t hate him. Unless she stole his fish. Regardless, he needed to go buy more fish, or maybe the first batch of fish. He couldn’t remember, but his fish tank was empty and he needed to do something about it. If he remembered. If Sheila had stolen his fish he wondered why she didn’t just take the entire tank. He looked down at his notes app and added “Fish” to his list.

He went to run his fingers through his curls, before remembering he was wearing a baseball hat. Fuck. He was still so tired, a bone deep weariness that would take days to overcome as he readjusted to his civilian life. It was probably for the best, they were greasy and in desperate need of a wash. He had been too exhausted, and too high, to do more than stand under the spray and admire his eucalyptus plant when he got home. His plant was thriving, no thanks to him, and the light aroma of the leaves made his chest feel nice as he breathed in the steam. He wondered if Sheila would know if he needed to buy toilet paper. He wondered if it was pathetic to text her. He should probably buy more just in case. He would use it eventually. He wished they hadn’t rearranged everything in the store while he was gone. He didn’t even know where to look for toilet paper anymore.

“Well you look like you’re having a productive trip,” George said, glancing down at Matty’s empty basket when he slid up beside him and leaned down to press a casual kiss to the corner of his mouth. Matty let out a whine of frustration. They had decided to divide and conquer, and so far, Matty had not conquered anything. George’s basket was full though, overflowing with fresh produce, meat and even a bottle of Coca Cola that Matty wanted but was refusing to buy for himself since he was trying to drink less soda. It didn’t count when George brought it for him though.

“I don’t know what kind of cheese I want,” he said, pathetically, glaring at the shelves as if they had personally offended him.

George laughed, “well, considering you’re standing in the cereal aisle, I’m not sure how to help you.”

“I was looking for toilet paper,” Matty said, he knew he was whining slightly, but George just chuckled. He could tell Matty was exhausted, his eyes red and swollen, his eye lids drifting shut then snapping open as if he was going to fall asleep on his feet in the cereal aisle in Tesco.

“We actually used up everything you panic bought during the pandemic?” George asked, not addressing the fact that he was still in the wrong aisle. Matty groaned again, slamming his face into George’s chest in frustration. He had an entire, what was supposed to be a linen cabinet, closet full of toilet paper. His mother had sent him into a tizzy when the pandemic started, and he had panic bought more toilet paper than a single man could ever hope to go through on his own. Even when he and George got back together, they were on tour most of the year, and had barely made a dent in Matty’s stash.

“I forgot about that,” he grumbled, his voice muffled by the fabric of George’s tee shirt. George smirked and kissed the top of Matty’s head, sending a little shiver down Matty’s spine.

He loved how casual George was with his affection, how nonchalant he was, dropping little kisses to Matty’s body, little touches, fingers dragged lightly across his back or to brush his curls out of his eyes, reminding Matty that he was loved even when he was filled with self doubt and didn’t love himself. George was so confident, so casual with his affection, as if it was just something so normal to be sharing, to be sharing with Matty that he couldn’t help but think that maybe he wasn’t the worst.

“Why don’t we pay and head home,” George said, running a hand down Matty’s back. Matty wished he could feel the warmth of his hand through his blue Nike hoodie, but the fabric was too thick. “I think there’s a nap in our future.”

“But the cheese,” Matty whined, mentally cursing two am Matty for not being more specific with his list.

“I’ll go grab a few different options,” George said, “and will meet you by the check out.”

“Fine,” Matty grumbled, stepping back so that George could press one last peck to his lips before turning down the aisle, off to the refrigeration section to get Matty cheese.

Matty grabbed a box of Frosties and added it to his empty basket, at least he was contributing something to the household, he thought with a yawn, dragging his feet down the aisle towards the self checkout. He was so tired his ankles hurt. He wondered if George would be up for stopping at Caffe Nero on the way home. He was in desperate need of a coffee. He glanced down at his phone, making sure there wasn’t anything else he was forgetting. He froze, blinking at the screen in confusion. What the fuck did he mean by Fish?

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shallowseeker · 3 months

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15x09 The Trap should have featured Emma W. and Andrea K. dancing in the ruins. Dean thinks maybe he’ll find Benny? Boom, enter Andrea and Emma who take a shine to Cas and wanna keep him.

Utter chaos!

Narrative symmetry! Dean-and-Jack shadow replacements, hello! And enticing Cas to stay ofc was always a crunchy theme.

#emma winchester #andrea kormos #narrative symmetry #come on this would’ve been soooo crunchy and messy and horrible #it would’ve needed another episode tho #andrea takes over purgatory...*she* is king of the place #see the thing i love about these eps #dean was passive-aggressively fishing for whether or not cas *really cared in the first place* and not just b/c of narrative reasons #he said: *i don’t know if you CARE or not but chuck is back on the board*#then about amara: *we had a thing* -- dean was fishing for a REACTION he is starved of cas reactions since cas tends to WITHDRAW #i would have LOVED dean to get an unexpected outlet for that messy spillover of emotion but reversed in the form of andrea and emma #and emma would have underlined jack’s death SO well you know it would've #even though dean had reason to be angry with cas for withdrawing #he was absolutely cruel with words and actions *you've been to hell before* while expecting / taking cas's support FOR GRANTED #yet he still expected cas to be there for him even when initially talking abt killing jack w/the equalizer in the bunker/chuck confrontatio #dean was so damn HURT over everything he was neurotically chomping at the bit for cas replacements from lee to benny to amara to whoever #even in the script of Last Call he was relishing getting his ass grabbed by that bar lady cause *it's nice to get some attention for once*#in the trap: *we should split up*#dean was craving a reaction FROM CAS #when dean can't even say jack's name!#when dean can't admit that trusting chuck was a mistake #*i always knew chuck was squirrelly and untrustworthy he says in 15x01 >>> he didn't*#anyhoo i think this scenario would have supported ALL of those complex crunchy situations!#cause it's almost like the whole - be careful what you wish for in dean's case but on the other foot

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moondirti · 2 months

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so.. simon and johnny stopping by a seedy 24/7 roadhouse on their way back home post-op

featuring: established ghostsoap. pregnant fem!reader. alluded kidnapping, extremely toxic attitudes. they’re literally delusional. mentioned death. this verges on dark so please beware!

They’ve driven past it about a hundred times, never having given it more than a passing glance. Who would, really? Nothing about it seemed appealing – in all its sun-bleached paint job and flickering neon signage glory – but circumstances lent themselves to its consideration. What was supposed to be a half-day mission ended up taking two, meaning they haven’t had time to sleep let alone eat. On top of that, a delayed exfil made it so they touched down on base at an ungodly hour. By the time Price waived their paperwork and they got into their car, they were famished.

“Could eat the scabby heid aff a dog,” Johnny eventually groans. He’d tried his best to hang in there, mindful not to be a pest during the hours it takes his partner to decompress after a rough operation, but his stomach kills and he knows Simon’s does too. He only receives a grunt for a response, though the man abruptly steers into the leftmost lane, catching the nearest exit towards the place in his periphery. Cleary meant to model an American diner with it’s fading blue exterior and obnoxious banner: The Dahlia

But they’ve been in worse. They hardly take note of the coffee rings staining their table, or the homeless man who’s taken residence in a corner booth (besides the brief once-over in their threat assessment upon entering). No; they just slot themselves by the nearest exit, scan over the menu and decide to order the quickest meal possible.

Only for things to take a sudden turn when their waitress stops by.

Christ alive, Johnny wonders how you manage to glow under the harshest of fluorescents. Dewy skin. Bright eyes, if not a little sunken at the late hour. Still, you smile and do so genuinely as you waddle to their station, clicking a pen before asking: “And what can I do you for, gentlemen?”

Simon doesn’t look at you immediately, not even when you speak up. He’s too fixed on Johnny, replaying the past days’ events in his head. Revisits the hour where their comms malfunctioned, when he lost touch with his boy and had to fight not knowing whether he was holding up okay. He has trust in him, of course, more bleedin’ trust than he has in earth to keep rotating. Still–

You clear your throat.

His pupils shift to pin you under their scrutiny, only he can’t bring it in him to be as severe as he wants to be. Because, while the first thing Johnny notices about you is your beauty, the first thing Simon sees is your bump.

Obscured by your apron, but still there. Round. Full. 6 months along, by the looks of it.

He’s forced to recall Beth, Tommy by extension. An old working knowledge that comes back to haunt him. At 23 weeks, his sister in law’s pregnancy began to weigh on her. Heartburn. Backaches. Hot flashes that resulted in bouts of dizziness. She couldn’t be up for more than 2 hours at a time, and yet here you are.

What the fuck were you doing in a place like this?

“Need more time to decide?” You ask. Patient. Lovely. If Johnny weren’t so sleep-deprived, so in over his head, he would perhaps realise the subtle hints you were dropping. They’ve been staring too long now, unsettling no doubt. Grimy, each with a tell-tale bump on their waistbands that point to their armament. Simon sans hard-shell mask, but still in a balaclava and eyeblack. Both larger than life and practically alone with you in this isolated place.

It’s Simon who speaks up first. “Fish and chips for the both of us. To-go. Cheers.”

You scribble the order down, pausing to consider. “Coffee? Gotta inform you, it’s drip, bottom of the carafe so it might taste burnt too. Hotplate’s all out of sorts.”

“Aye, just the one. Gae head an’ dip yer finger in it too. Might benefit from a little sweetener.” It takes you a second to process Johnny’s flirt. When you do, though, you visibly blanch, ducking your head to hide your face as you pretend to jot what he said down.

“I’ll have that right out for you.”

And then you scurry off, glancing over your shoulder once you think you’re out of sight. Curious. Flustered.

Simon’s attention refocuses on the scotsman once you’re gone, an eyebrow raised under his mask. His partner is able to read the expressed question well enough: what do you think you’re doing? Strict, but not so much angry as it a press for him to think before he speaks, to balance the scales before he asks something of Ghost that he can’t refuse.

“Dinnae look at me like tha’.” Johnny whispers. “Bonnie lass, isn’t she?”

Simon blinks. “Expecting, too.”

“We cannae leave her here.”

Memories occur in rapid succession. Tommy. Beth. The cherubic face they had brought into the world – little Joseph, who was the first he found dead upon returning home.

He considers Johnny, Soap, this force of nature that wormed his way into his life and sunk his teeth into the rot of his heart, fastened before Simon could even think of brushing him off.

“And here’s that coffee! Your meals should be coming out soon, thank you for being patient.”

It’s a bad idea. Horrible. You could have a partner, a cozy home waiting for you. Nursery already painted. Names already chosen.

What good partner would let you work this shitty job?

It’s a bad, horrible idea. No good for anyone. They’re on constant deployment. They risk their lives on every run. You’d be put in harm’s way yourself.

Not if they hide you well enough. Their house is secluded for a reason.

It’s a bad, horrible, no good idea – but Johnny accepts the mug with a gracious smile and you bloom all pretty, hand inadvertently cradling your belly. Little flower, persisting against all odds. Growing from the fissures of broken concrete. Dignified still. Kind. Strong.

So what if they pluck you from your place? They’ve got somewhere much better for you to thrive.

next part

#this was supposed to be a lil thing #oops #simon ‘ghost’ riley #johnny ‘soap’ mactavish #ghostsoap x reader #ghoap x reader #simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader x johnny ‘soap’ mactavish #ghost x reader x soap #ghost x read #soap x reader #ghost x soap #x reader #x female reader #ghostsoap #ghoap #cod #call of duty

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servicpop · 1 month

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AUGH THE COWBOY FIC WAS SO FUCKING CUTE FHSHJSBUSKFDSKUS I LOVE IT SO MUCH!!!!!!! OUUUUUU

I ALREADY HAVE ANOTHER IDEA FOR THEM!!!! so the reader eventually has to get to the next town for a week or two for a series of shows, reader tells Cole where he’ll be and where he’ll preform so Cole can send him a letter if he’d like. Cole obviously send a him letters and reader writes back every time. But one day Cole doesn’t send reader a response and this makes him think Cole lost interest for some reason, so readers moping around and complaining about it to other show girls until Cole shows up at the place their preforming. Reader spots Cole in the crowd and gets excited immediately and the rest of the show he has a wide smile up until he can go out and talk to Cole who has flowers for the reader!!!

THIS CAN END FLUFFY OR SMUTTY OR BOTH IDC I JUST LOVE THESE TWO SO MUCH YOU DONT GET IT IM CRAZY RAH :3

-🎱

✶ ﹑ㅤletters & flowersㅤ﹏

NOW STARRING : Cole the cowboy x 'showgirl' m!reader

「ㅤSFW & NSFWㅤ」ㅤhalf is sfw and half is nsfw (the nsfw part will be separated and labelled as nsfw!)

✙ NSFW warnings — sub!top cole, dom!bottom/power bottom reader, cole is a virgin, riding, tummy bulge, cole is more vocal than reader, first time

notes ,, go to part one if you haven't read it already! Not proofread !!

You were able to extend your stay at Pinecrest just for a little while, and during your time here you were able to meet so many people and learn so many things about agriculture, farming, taking care of animals, and you even got to meet the local dog, Scout. More importantly, you were able to spend more time with Cole. He took you out almost every night to go sightseeing, taking you to his favourite spots whether it was in the mountains or by the lake. He even taught you how to ride your own horse and named her Taffy after you; since you were so sweet.

Nothing could've replaced those star-filled nights where it was just you and Cole with your horses, Taffy and Spirit, enjoying the cool breeze and endless conversations that seemed to meander. However, you were a busy man, especially while being in the entertainment industry you didn't have time to stick around forever. You could feel your heart sink just a little bit when your manager had announced that another show would be held in the next town for a few weeks. Of course you enjoyed your line of work, you loved performing, loved being on stage and hearing the cheers of others, but you also loved Cole's company. You knew that Cole had a role here at Pinecrest and it would've been selfish of you to ask him to come with you. But, it wasn't like you were going to keep this whole ordeal a secret from him.

"Cole?" Your voice seemed to break the silence; his head turned to look at you, "Yeah?" Cole's voice was warm, and gentle with a hint of ruggedness like honey dripping over gravel, and the way his eyes glittered when they met yours was enough to make your legs weak under the eye contact, causing you to splutter when you decided to speak again. "I– I have to leave tomorrow, I got another show I need to do at the next town," You mumble, shying away from his entrancing gaze. The cogs in his rusty little brain were visibly turning as Cole stared at you blankly with his lips parted like he was trying to comprehend your words. You can tell it finally settled in his mind when his face deflated like a sad puppy, "You're leavin' sugar?" His voice wavers as he stared at you; the fingers that were once tracing the rim of his glass paused, and the bartender took this moment of Cole's sad expression as a cue to refill his cup with root beer.

Oh, you couldn't do this to him. It was almost like kicking an abandoned puppy on the side of the road — totally cruel. You proposed the idea of sending letters and his sad puppy expression lifted just a little. Fishing in your bag you pulled out a flyer of your next show, sliding it across the counter so he could keep a copy for himself, "Here, send them to this address," you tapped the words in bold that say where you were performing. Cole — of course — takes the flyer eagerly, scanning over it to mentally note down the information written on it, "I'll definitely be sendin' you letters honey," Cole smiled with his dimples peeking through. He picked up his glass of beer and placed it between his lips to take a swig before he started blabbering about whatever came to his mind, a common habit of Cole, and you were always keen to listen to his rambles. You could listen to his voice all night long.

Unfortunately, Cole's most dreaded day came when you had to leave for the next town. He most definitely was one of the first people to wake up at the crack of dawn to catch you before you left, pressing a light, lingering kiss on the back of your palm as if you were a prince and he was nothing but a humble knight. After the townspeople waved you off, you and your fellow performers left via the vans. It was approximately a four hour ride, it would've been quicker if you took the train but your manager insisted to go by car for the scenery. You felt yourself missing Cole more than ever, more than anyone else that you've met and being in multiple towns and countries, you've met alot of people.

Your show was held over four days with a one day break in between and a few free days to explore the area — a total of one week and 3 days. As promised, after settling down in the new town, you received letters every morning from Cole. They usually contained heartfelt messages about his day, his animals, what he ate for every meal, some local gossip, and of course expressing how much he missed you. He even signed every letter with small doodles of what you assumed to be him and Scout. Sometimes, he'd even attach small poloroids of himself usually with Taffy and Spirit in the back. Every night when you had time to spare you scavenged your hotel room for a spare piece of paper and a pen, writing back a response with your signature and some doodles that were definitely not as good as Cole's. It's corny, but you kissed the envelop after sealing it before sending it off back to him.

One day after your 2nd show, you stopped receiving letters, and it really messed up your mood. Did Cole lose interest? Had he found someone better than you? Was it because you were away? All these thoughts ran through your mind and you found yourself slumped at the vanity, complaining and whining to the other showgirls on how you felt like he didn't like you anymore. Knowing how supportive the girls are, they always attempted to comfort you, patting your back and reassuring you that he might’ve just not had any time to write back, that he was busy tending the cattle and whatnot. But no matter what they said, that feeling if a pit in your stomach lingered for the 3rd show. Your aura wasn't the same, your energy wasn't the same, you couldn't perform as well as you did the first two shows.

But suddenly, you felt a strange, familiar pair of eyes staring at you from the crowd. Mid dance, your eyes scanned the sea of people and caught on that dear smile that seemed to light up even the darkest of nights. Cole. That stupidly charming cowboy was nestled in between the bodies of others looking at you. Just you with those eyes filled with admiration. Your heart skipped a beat — or multiple — and you felt your lips involuntarily curl up into a smile.

"That's it. That's the smile I love."

With a new-found burst of energy, your limbs no longer felt sluggish and that fake smile was replaced with a genuine one. All of the sudden, the spotlight seemed to focus on you, highlighting the sequins that glittered on your costume and your bright smile. The other showgirls seemed to notice your change in mood and they all shot you small smiles, watching at how your hips swayed with the beat of the music and how your dance lightened up the atmosphere. You couldn't wait to see him.

Once the performance ended and you and the other performers bowed, you immediately ran out into the crowd, searching frantically for Cole but no matter how hard you looked and pushed through the people, you couldn't find Cole. Your feet picked up in speed as you ran outside, looking around to find Cole leaning against a streetlight with a bouquet in his hands. "Hey," You huffed, catching your breath from all that running around. "You were— amazing, sweetheart," Cole smiled, extending his arm out for you to take the bouquet of dasies, "U–uhm, the daises are hand picked if— if you were wonderin'." From the way he was stuttering over his words like a highschool boy confessing to his crush, and how his eyes focused on anything but your face, you could tell he's never given flowers to anyone in such a romantic way. They were beautiful, all thoughtfully placed together to make the bouquet aesthetically pleasing with a white ribbon tied around the stems with a small bow. You took the bouquet before wrapping your arms around Cole in a warm embrace. He didn't expect you to hug him so abruptly but he for sure did not complain, taking only a second to return the hug, wrapping his arms around you protectively. "I've never seen you smile so wide before darlin,' were you excited to see me?" Cole chuckled, keeping your face pressed against his cheek as he tangled his fingers through your hair. A small laugh escaped your lips too as you teased back, "Don't get ahead of yourself now."

After catching up a bit on the way back to your hotel, you found out through Cole that one of his cows gave birth to an adorable baby he named 'Choco' from its brown coloured fur. He really did have a quirk in naming animals. Once back, he helped you find a vase for your daisies, filling it up with water before carefully plopping your flowers in them. You flopped onto the bed, bouncing slightly from how plush the mattress was, and Cole followed shortly, laying right beside you. As you laid on the bed with your eyes staring up at the white ceiling, you felt a hand tangle with yours, turning your head to meet Cole's grin and his hands holding yours tightly. "Thanks for coming tonight," You were more than happy that he actually took the time out of his day to come all the way here to watch you perform again, "You know I'd do anythin' for you sugar," He cooed, squishing your cheeks between his fingers before he brought your face to his, giving you a small peck on the lips. You always loved how soft and gentle Cole's lips felt agaisnt yours, and they always had a faint taste of strawberries on them.

"That's too corny,"

"You want corn? We can go to the corn fields sometime if that's what you want"

And that earnt a pillow straight to his face.

One kiss turned into two, maybe three, with you leaning over Cole's body while he was still laying down. His arm snaked over to hook around your waist, pulling you closer to him and tangling his legs with yours. As he presses his body agaisnt yours, you felt him poke at your thigh. He was excited, something that you didn't expect from sweet little Cole. He seemed to notice and it was evident through the blush that creeped up his neck, "S–sorry... it's instinct y'know?" His words stumble over eachother and he brings a hand to his face, hiding behind the comfort of his palms as embarrassment ate away at him. It was adorable! This guy being such a flustered mess just from a few kisses and you haven't even done anything that intimate yet.

You reassure him, obviously; you tell him that it's natural and that it's okay to react this way. But then it strikes you. He seemed so inexperienced, so shy about everything. Was Cole a virgin? "I've never done anythin' like this before... I've never felt this way about someone else," His usually loud and confident voice was now reduced to a soft, nervous whisper. He shuffled slightly, pulling you up and onto his lap, his eyes glittered with nervousness and excitement, "D'you think you could show me a thing or two?" Damn. The way he's looking at you with pure love and sincerity made your blood pump faster from how quick your heart was beating. You've been dying for this too, so why not?

You helped him undress before following shortly after, discarding your clothes somewhere in the hotel. He was surprisingly big— like really big. His pretty pink tip was already glistening with pre-cum from the previous kisses and he had a prominent vein that ran down the underside of his cock that was bound to be a sensitive spot for him. Cole was also more built than you expected, he had toned muscles that were most defined in his arms and he had pretty big pecs. They were like pillows, you'd have to convince him to let you sleep on them later. Cole refused to look you in the eyes while you rummaged the beside drawers for lube. You put a generous amount on your palm before placing the bottle down and turning to face Cole, who was trembling like a little mouse.

"Relax," you cooed, wrapping your lubed up hand around his shaft, pumping slowly to coat him. His body physically jerked once he felt the cool substance around his cock, and a low whine slipped from his lips. Cole's breathing became more heavy as you slowly stroked his length, his eyes fluttered with every movement. Once you deemed that to be enough, you slowly moved to hover over his lap and Cole's hands immediately went up to grip your hips for stability. You knew this would hurt; you weren't properly prepared but you didn't care that much. Slowly, you sunk down on Cole's cock, feeling the slight burn as you bit back small whimpers. "You okay sugar? 'Mnot hurtin' you am I?" Cole grunted, his fingers gripping your hips even more, guiding you down his length. He was concerned, yes, but he also couldn't help from twitching inside you.

"I'm fine," you replied with a small huff once you were able to take Cole in fully, relaxing a bit so you could get used to his size. Cole on the other hand was certainly not relaxing. You could almost see the muscles on his arm tense and he had this unfamiliar look in his eyes like he was desperate for something, any sort of movement from you. After awhile of just silence and stillness, Cole's resolve finally caved in, "Oh, please sweetheart, please move. Anythin'! I need to feel you, please," he whined like a little puppy, staring into your eyes as if he was going to die if you didn't give him any sort of relief. But that wasn't any fun now was it?

You leaned down, your hips rolling slightly in accord to your movements, and pressed a honeyed kiss on the outer corner of Cole's lips. That little movement with your hips almost made Cole cum on the spot. "You can't do that t'me," Cole's eyes gleamed over with tears, dampening his eyelashes. All wet and pretty. He swore he'd actually start crying if you didn't move. "Alright, alright, sorry," you apologised but didn't really mean it — he was so adorable begging you just to move. But, you weren't that cruel. A string of 'thank you's poured out of Cole's mouth as you rocked your hips rhymically, grinding down on his cock. His head tilted back against the silk pillows, his brown hair cascading across the pillowcase like flowing water. Cole's lips were slightly parted, and his chest rose and fell intermittently, some breaths short and stuttered, while others were deeper.

"It feels so good," Cole muttered out between pants. His voice was nothing short of a whiny mess mixed with a few moans and grunts. You lifted yourself off of him, almost lifting completely off of him before dropping your hips back down, earning a muffled whimper from you and a loud moan from Cole. He was undoubtedly alot more vocal in expressing his pleasure. His eyes opened with heavy eyelids, as he looked up at you; you could practically see the hearts in his eyes. Cole's gaze flickered down to your tummy and his mind went blank when he saw the small bulge in your stomach, "Oh mercy," he breathed out, his hand moved to touch your stomach, "You're gonna be the death of me if you keep— hah, keep teasin' me like this."

Your mind was just as lost as Cole's with the way his dick was able to reach your prostate so easily. It drove you crazy; his cock angled perfectly to hit it over and over again with each bounce. Your own neglected cock was sliding along Cole's happy trail, the warmth of his body made you twitch everytime you grinded your hips. "I'm— im close, so so so close, please— please let me cum." Beads of sweat rolled down Cole's temples and his forearms flexed, digging his fingertips into your hips hard enough to leave an indent — he was careful not to use his nails, Cole would never want to hurt you. "Im—" Cole sat up from his laying position, enveloping you in his arms and buried his face in the crook of your neck, needing something to hold onto while he orgasmed. His moans were muffled by your neck as his thigh spasmed faintly while he spilt his seed inside of you, filling you up to the brim. Your own orgasm followed after his, coating his abs with your fluid.

You two sat in the comfort of eachothers arms and the sound of your heavy breathing; your own arms were lazily draped over his shoulders with one hand stroking his hair. "When's your next show?" Cole asked, moving his head off your shoulder to look at you, "The day after tomorrow, but I have rehearsal tomorrow morning," a small pout spreads across Cole's lips as his eyes flicker to loon at your thigh instead. "Do you think you can walk properly tomorrow?" "Oh right..."

Bonus ♡

You winced as you settled down into the chair infront of the vanity. A few of the showgirls walked up to you, noticing that something was off, "You okay honey bun? You seem to be in alot of pain today," one of the girls ask, placing a comforting hand on your back. "He obviously got some action last night with that cowboy guy." "No I did not!" "It's obvious in the way you're limping sweetie."

Cole on the other hand, was still soundly asleep in your hotel bed, curled up with the blanket he stole from you during the night.

a/n ,, Cole oh sweet Cole . To be honest ,, I'm still not used to writing smut . I guess it's because I'm trying my hardest not to make it sound off or weird ,, maybe I'm just immature . The word cock sounds funny to me . Anyways !! I kinda rushed the smut . To be fair my main focus with Cole is how he's an innocent n' sweet guy but ya know ,, nsfw is what gets people going these days

#bottom male reader #male reader #oc x male reader #male x reader #mlm #male x male #servicpop — fics/drabbles #servicpop — ocs #sub character #dom male reader #x bottom male reader #original character #smut #gay #gay fanfiction #oc fluff #oc smut

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months

Note

Could I request Welt, Dan Heng, Sunday, Gepard, and Argenti finding their s/o's poetry collection of them?

Argenti:

Would sit himself down somewhere nearby and read every last poem, each one leaving him with a full heart, butterflies in his stomach and another addition to the list of reasons why he adored your creative soul.

He’s extremely honoured that you decided to chose him as your muse for your poems, for he could feel the love and respect you have for him through your writing, before holding the collections of poetry made in his name against his chest as he beamed with happiness.

He’d even openly praise you for your works if he were to see you later on in the day, which would make you understandably upset and embarrassed that he went through your things, but with the way that he passionately talked about your writing and the look upon his face that clearly shown his appreciation and admiration for poetry.

At the end you’re the one who ends up being flustered whilst Argenti was still sending appraisal after appraisal your way, all the while re-reading your works and proudly reciting his favourite passages without shame.

Sunday:

He thought it was sweet that you write poetry about him.

He didn’t feel as though he was invading your privacy at all, seeing as how he’d like to claim that whatever of yours was now also his by osmosis…totally not because he’s fishing for stuff to hold over you and maintain control should you act out…

Anyway- he’s taking his sweet time reading each and every poem you’ve written with him in mind and smiling at the hold he’s taken within your heart, finding it fascinating what adoration could make one do just to express their whole array of emotions.

It was almost as though they were on some timer that others couldn’t see just to express all their innermost feelings towards the special person in their life. Then again love tended to make people feel as though they were invincible, so the unthinkable and accomplish things that they never thought that they were capable of achieving in the first place.

So it didn’t matter whether or not you were able to wax poetry before him, but it was obvious to Sunday that the moment he had taken hold of your life and your every thought, poetry has became your primary outlet for feelings that you weren’t nearly brave enough to say aloud to him. Rest assured however for that day will come for you to open up about those unspoken feelings of yours…sooner or later.

Gepard:

He feels as though he was invading your privacy by reading your poetry collection and wanted to leave before he’d inevitably get caught, but just as he was about to take his leave, he stopped when the title of the first poem caught his eye;

Everlasting winter

He found himself reading through the first few opening sentences and immeditly made connections between himself and the person within your poem. To say it didn’t take long for Gepard to realises that the similarities between him and the person in your poem were purely intentional, and that he was the one the poem was actual about.

His face was blossoming red upon the realisation and averted his eyes elsewhere as he takes in the fact that you found him a perfect enough muse for your poetry. Him, the man who couldn’t hold a tune to save his life, grows flowers that unfortunately don’t last long, and wasn’t possessed with the basic skills of drawing.

And yet you found something about him that was worth writing poem after poem about. He didn’t know why that was but he was appreciative that you found something in him that urged you into written it down on paper, where your affection and admiration for him would be forever immortalised…He also may or may not have taken a poem to read to himself later on at night.

Dan heng:

He had noticed that you left a piece of paper laying about one day and was about to call out to you and give it back, while scolding you for leaving your messes everywhere for him to pick up after, only to see that it was in fact a poem about him.

Red faced, Dan Heng still planned on taking the poem back to you and journeyed to your room where he found that the door was left ajar, but could immeditly tell that your room was empty. Sighing, Dan Heng opened the door and quickly made his way towards your desk, where’d he found more poems in regards to him.

Much like Gepard, Dan Heng felt as though he was reading something he shouldn’t but he found himself unable to look away as he was secretly tempted to know how you viewed him. What he found was nothing short of you portraying him in a way that he’s never quite thought of himself before. If he wasn’t already so easily made flustered by your words alone, your writing was enough to put the poor man into a catatonic state.

Dan Heng wasn’t use to being smothered in a love like yours. Where you felt as though speaking your love for him wasn’t nearly enough, so you had to expand and start writing it instead in the form of poetry. He doesn’t feel as though he’s deserving of it but isn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth and is more then willing to try to accept the fact that you care deeply for him; especially when he can not find it within him to find anything about him remotely worth being with.

Welt:

He’s made copious amounts of drawings of you that he’s kept hidden in his room. So upon coming across your poetry collection about him, it only made him feel more comfortable knowing that he wasn’t the only one to express his innermost feelings through an art form.

Besides it wasn’t like he was actively searching your room for your poetry collection, he really wasn’t as he just came across them out of pure coincidence. He was currently about four poetries deep and was finding it extremely endearing how you viewed him in most of your writing: which was mainly as an well educated, wise man with a young man’s heart and restlessness sense for adventure, who had a talent for drawing.

Welt would chuckle under his breath at all the moments you’ve shared together, before you’d then went on to write about how beautiful he was in every possible way. From his sweet, insightful eyes that seemingly held all the knowledge you could ever ask for, to his calming, velvety voice that could lull you into a deep sleep within seconds.

You posed him as this figure of comfort, a figure of warmth and Welt soon finding himself not so subtly sneaking some of your poetry into his pocket to read for later. Your poetry only gives Welt the confidence he been looking for, as he would then starts to leave his drawings of you in places where you’d be able to see them; all in hopes that you would know that you had just as much of a huge place in his heart as he did in yours.

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yanderenightmare · 4 months

Text

Mahito

TW: idk, threatening atmosphere ig

fem reader

Thinking about being a psychologist assigned a certain crazed serial killing cannibal…

The walls seemed too white. Loud. So impersonal, it became personal. Cold and eerie, as if it wanted to make everyone inside feel unwelcome.

Your palms were embarrassingly sweaty, causing you to wipe them down your skirt, also in an attempt to straighten it out, where the approaching footsteps on the other side of the door only helped make your heart beat faster.

You swallowed your anxiety when you heard the latch open and tried to wipe your face free of fear, knowing how such fragility would not survive here. You almost felt nauseous, but then the patient came in, and, unlike you, he looked completely normal – happy even.

"Good morning." You reported routinely, and just as routinely, he chose not to answer and instead stared at you where you sat on the other side of the table, as ready as ever.

It had become a ritual shared between the two of you. Intimate.

You, who made yourself comfortable before he was let in – folder and notepad and two ballpoint pens in two different colors, one red and one blue, placed in front of you on the table – just far enough away that he couldn't reach them.

And he, who’s comfortable either way – dressed in his given uniform and slippers as he stepped across the cold floor slowly before dropping into the chair in front of you.

You wear jewelry, and suppose he does so as well.

He looked your body up then down – analyzing what he saw with an unimpressed face – taking in your straight posture where you sat like a doll placed in a glass display with your knees together and your hands folded neatly atop your lap.

He seemed disappointed when roaming your outfit – a childish pout on his lips. A secular pencil skirt, tight but modest nonetheless, reaching below the knees – only showing calves and ankles. A demure blouse – no sheer fabric, no bright color, no cleavage – just dull pink-beige that reached up below a set of pretty collarbones and a neckline donned a simple pearl necklace.

If you wore makeup, it couldn't have been much – but your lips had a certain shine to them, not much color other than natural, but glossy in a way that made them look… tasty.

You were pretty, but pretty in a very ordinary way – pretty in such a way that wasn't enough to answer the question of whether you were trying or not. And he thought that was fun.

You looked boring, but you weren’t boring because you were anything but obvious.

You smiled nicely, pretending that he didn't make you nervous – and that, in turn, made him smile, but not for the reasons you would have liked. He thought you were a little weird for wanting him to get comfortable with you when you were so clearly nowhere near comfortable yourself.

"How are you today?" You asked as if in a normal conversation when your previous ask didn’t earn any response.

He considers playing along for a few seconds but eventually feels he has done so too many times before – that now it would only achieve something boring.

He nudges the inside of his cheek with his tongue and scrapes it against his teeth before finally answering. "Have you ever seen someone go through withdrawal?"

If this had been your first time with him, you would have reacted differently, but you have since learned that he’s happy to force what he feels like telling, regardless of your attempts to turn the conversation onto other topics. So, instead of asking why he's asking what he's asking, you answer honestly and let him continue.

"No. I can't say that I have."

"Then you're in for a treat.” He says and begins the game, quickly noting with a keen twinkle in his eye the way your smile tightens before he continues. "You might think I look like shit now, but you should’a seen my skin then – all ash and gray like a rotten fish. Should have some pictures of that in your binder – I looked as good as dead.” He joked with a smile. "And yet, I was still alive… ‘cause I kept kicking and flopping around. And it was cold – freezing – so cold that my teeth gnashed without having anything to bite into. And even though I’ve never been one to cry, I cried then, like a newborn fresh outta the womb." He confessed with even more of a chuckle in his voice.

The smile only grew sharper when he saw you open the notebook – his eyes twitching a little at the sound of the ballpoint clicking under your thumb as he watched you approach the sheet with red ink.

"Oh- and sweat," He continued, "My God, how you sweat." Grinning as the adrenaline of excitement sharpened the red in his corneas – crazed two-toned eyes bulging as he watched you scribble. “You may think you know sweat, but you don't – you don't know the stench of it.”

He shook his head along with the words, happy to have engaged you in his little game. You were so cute, sitting there opposite him as if the two of you were on a date and he was telling you some fun story from his past.

"And I shook! Like I was crazy – like I had demons on the inside that wanted out!"

You gasped as he brought his large fist down hard on the table with a blow that shook the remaining blue pen as if it jumped in fear and cowered to comfort itself the same as you.

“And then they came out. ‘Cause I puked ‘em out!”

His eyes were impossibly dark, though they remained the same as always. Full of something… something you just couldn't understand. Along with a crack of a smile that was anything but healthy.

"For several hours, I vomited until my soul was left in the toilet bowl… That is… the times I was lucky to even make it to the bathroom in time..."

His words earned a grimace from you, sitting with a lump in your throat, clutching the pen that had now gone silent in your still grip.

"And that smell doesn't go away…" He continued, calmer now. “It sits and sinks into the floors... Remains to remind you of what you are – mocks you, pokes fun, laughs as it predicts the future…”

His eyes gave yours the same feeling as being threatened with a knife, the way he looked down at you while you stared up at him – your eyes wide in prayer before you couldn't hold back any longer and had to look away.

"Because you know..." The voice was even quieter now but still with a reprehensible darkness that required goosebumps. "No matter what promises you make to yourself, you will always break them the moment the hunger strikes again... That's just human nature." He concluded, letting the silence work for himself.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and met his gaze again, trying your best to appear unflappable even though you’d already let the mask slip a couple of thousand times already.

"What made you think of that?" You asked then, clicking your pen – that way you do when the silence creeps worse than his words.

“This room.” He answered. “It's like withdrawal.”

"It doesn't say anywhere in your file that you’re a drug addict?"

"The whole reason I'm sitting in here is 'cause I’m an addict." He snarled, and you almost lost the pen with how you flinched.

There was another pause, and his face softened again into something else.

"But you're right. I've never done drugs." He smiled with his head cocked a little to the side as he looked at you with that fixed unpleasant look. "But I was convincing, wasn't I?"

You clicked your pen again and wrote another thing down in the notepad.

"Psh-" He scoffed. Something in his voice had changed, twisted into something similarly accusatory to yours. "You're just like me."

You stopped writing. Your whole body had been taken by instinct at his disturbing statement – brows furrowed as you fought the urge to gnaw at your bottom lip.

"How so?"

Your heart was pounding to the point where you could hardly feel anything but the bleeding pulsing in your ears – pumping in your fingertips – rocking the ribs in your chest.

A silent toothless smile crept up his face anew from where it had been playing at the corner of his mouth as he watched you cling to the red pen as some sort of weapon you could use if he chose to throw himself across the table.

He laughed at the thought but stopped short upon his next utterance. "You’re also an addict."

You had such a very pitifully confused expression. He took a second to admire it with a smile that only grew sharper, to a sick point where you almost couldn't recognize him as human at all anymore.

"You use – you eat and chew and swallow everything but the bones, everything you can stuff your bottomless belly with in hopes it'll soothe the hunger."

You had to gulp.

"Most people, you see, eat themselves. But we…" His gaze was like a spark – powder and fuse teased by friction, just waiting to explode. "We eat people."

Another silence fell upon you, but this one heavier than the previous ones – as if everything took a moment to catch its breath before you let it go, and with it came a deeply unsettling shiver down your spine.

But before you could question the statement, a beep came and took the patient away.

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delirious-donna · 3 months

Text

There’s A Girl In My Tub [Part Two]

story summary: Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother.

chapter summary: Kento walks in on a woman he doesn't know neck-deep in his bath. What is he meant to do now?

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: reader described as having hair that can be put in a ponytail, SFW

Part One | Series Masterlist | Part Three

The mistake was clear from the second he lunged inside the bathroom. Where he had presumed to find his younger sister submerged in his tub, sat a woman he did not know splashing and spluttering from both the shock of being jump scared and the bubbles that shot up your nose.

Kento wasn’t sure what his predominant emotion was, whether it be complete mortification for interrupting someone bathing or indignant anger at the complete stranger using his apartment like some kind of luxury hotel.

“Who the fuck are you?” The stranger half yelled, half spluttered.

Realisation dawned on him like icy dread spider walking up his spine. What had meant to be a practical joke was no longer looking so funny.

“You’re not Karin…” He said matter-of-factly.

At this point, he was simply stating the obvious. What he found interesting was the comprehension that he could see illuminated in your eyes. You might not be Karin, but you knew who she was. The connection between the two of you was what he needed to establish next, or well… after he found out your name.

“I’m Nanami Kento, and you’re in my bath. Who are you?”

His eyebrow cocked in a mixture of continued annoyance and the first hint of curiosity. Given that you were familiar with his sister meant you weren’t some crazy intruder, not that he thought that in the first place given your luggage in his room and the fact that you couldn’t have gained access without a keycard and code.

You offered your name in no more than a timid squeak, and he didn’t recognise it. He huffed a tired exhale and turned towards the door to give you a modicum of privacy. His mouth opened to speak, but you beat him to the punch, silencing him effectively with your more confident tone.

“Look, can we not hash this out whilst I am naked in your bath? Give me ten minutes, and I’ll meet you in the living area,” you enthused, hands gesticulating wildly. It sent a flurry of bubbles into the air which Kento watched before giving a curt nod of agreement and stalking out without uttering another word.

He needed a drink in the worst possible way, even if it was only early afternoon. It was going to be entirely necessary to indulge in his top-shelf liquor to help with his current predicament.

Once more, he glanced at the haphazardly packed case open on his bed. This time studying the contents a little more closely. Perhaps he should have considered doing this earlier, as one glance was enough to confirm that even the style of clothing was so unlike his sister, not to mention the stuffed animal, which he guessed resembled a bunny rabbit despite its ragged appearance. Karin hadn’t been one for stuffed toys, preferring dolls and the pretty furniture to fill ornate dollhouses growing up.

Speaking of his dearly beloved sibling, Kento fished his phone from his pocket as he made his way back to the kitchen. He cradled it between his ear and shoulder whilst selecting a crystal tumbler and a bottle of scotch. The ringing went to voicemail. Of course, it did.

“Karin, call me. I don’t appreciate surprises, and you owe me an explanation.” He kept it short and sweet, his specialty. He pushed the phone across the kitchen island and turned to lean his back against the pantry door.

What the hell was going on? He mused silently, swirling the dark amber contents of his glass before bringing it to his lips and swallowing a healthy mouthful. The liquor coated his teeth and burned his throat as it slid into his mostly empty stomach.

Everything had happened in such a rush that he couldn’t even picture your face as he waited. He hadn’t thought to get a good look at you, not when the circumstances were so intimate–vulnerable even. Not for the first time today, his palm scrubbed down his face. What must you think of him? You were this–he floundered for a moment in thinking of how to accurately describe you–young woman, naked and trapped in a room with one exit. An exit that he had blocked with his body.

He groaned, pressing the cool crystal tumbler to his temple and rolling it across his forehead. This was exactly the type of situation you saw in horror movies, except he wasn’t some crazed killer on the hunt for young virgins or any young women for that matter, but he would understand if you were fearful of him. It would only be logical.

As if summoned by thought alone, the soft pad of your socks alerted Kento that you had finished with the bath. He glanced sideways, eyeing the simple black leggings and an oversized sweater emblazoned with the logo of Karin’s college, and some pieces of the puzzle fell neatly into place.

Your hair was mostly dry except for the ends that had been splashed by the unexpected dunking they had received, the strands tied loosely into a ponytail that softened the stern expression plastered across your features.

Standing with the kitchen island between you as if it afforded you some semblance of protection, Kento tried not to smile when you folded your arms across your chest and tilted your chin in his direction. The sleeves of your sweater engulfed your arms so completely that only the tips of your fingers showed. He admired your courage in the face of a stranger, a male one at that, and one that could likely impose his height and weight against you if he so inclined. Sure, he admired it, but it was also incredibly dumb.

“Did you enjoy your soak?” He asked, taking another sip of scotch to hide the quirk of his lips.

Your eyes narrowed. Damn, he hadn’t felt amusement like this in the longest time. Some would claim that he didn’t have a funny bone in his body, but they were wrong. Kento simply didn’t entertain cheap humour, and this situation was far from bargain basement.

“I was. That is until this massive oaf leapt inside screaming like a maniac and scaring the life out of me.”

That was enough to wipe the smile from his face. Kento straightened and set his tumbler down. He ran a hand through his hair and endeavoured to end this charade right here and now. To hell with the fact that you amused him, he didn’t know you from Adam.

“How do you know Karin? And I am not an oaf, for the record,” he added with what sounded even to him as a touch of petulance.

You rolled your eyes. “She’s my friend, maybe even best friend, actually. We go to the same college, different majors though. How do you know her? Are you her dad or something?”

It was Kento’s turn to narrow his eyes. He could see it for what it was, a direct jab at him, but you didn’t truly believe he could possibly be her father, or at least he hoped not!

You picked at your nails whilst the silence lingered on. He debated whether to rise above your petty attempts at riling him, but something stopped him. Kento was the level-headed one, always reasonable, however, something about you crept beneath his skin.

“Can’t be that much of a best friend if you don’t even know that she has a brother… that would be me, by the way. Hi. I’m the brother, and this is my apartment. I do hope this is some kind of elaborate joke.”

Sure enough, his aim was true. Your face crumpled at the truth he laid out so cruelly. Instead of feeling some sense of triumph for gaining the upper hand, he resigned to the guilt settling heavily in his chest. He almost rubbed at his heart but stopped at the last second.

Why did he care? That’s what he really wanted to know. Yes, you were cute. He was a man after all, he could appreciate your soft feminine features, but he was hardly known as a man who sought out the company of the opposite sex often.

Kento pinched the bridge of the nose. It was upsetting to watch you fold in upon yourself like this, your shoulders hunched inward and your head bowed low. He cared, and that was surprising. He wished for that spark of confidence to ignite again, longing to kick himself for being the one to douse it in the first place.

“I’m… I’m sorry. That was cruel of me, but you did call me her dad!” He tried to rationalise his outburst, and he was glad when your head snapped up to scrutinise him. “We’ve started on the wrong foot. Can you blame me for acting a little irrational? I’ve never found an intruder in my home before, let alone a naked one in my bath. Why are you here?”

Without a word, you stretched out a hand for his near-empty glass, swallowing down the remnants in one gulp. You hissed through your teeth, dancing on the spot whilst the potent alcohol slid into your belly to warm you. Kento cocked his eyebrow but chose to remain silent.

He had so many questions. Why you were here in his home was curiously not at the top of the pile, but it seemed inappropriate to be querying your age and probing your interests at this point in the conversation. Not to mention, you were his sister’s friend, nothing more.

Nothing more, Kento.

“Well, your darling sister told me this was her place, and that it was empty right now. Clearly, neither part was true, and I will be taking that up with her as soon as she answers her damn phone!”

“Hm, so Karin is avoiding your calls too. Curious.”

You blew out a long breath, the strands of hair framing your face dancing around and… Kento glanced away, refusing to acknowledge the desire to fix them behind your ear.

“Aren’t you on spring break? Why aren’t you shacked up in some overly loud and raucous resort? I’m certain that’s where Karin will be right about now.” Kento rolled his eyes at even thinking about it. He well remembered his years in college and how he loathed this time of year. It was his idea of hell.

Scrunching your nose in distaste, you walked around the edge of the kitchen island and hopped up to sit yourself closer to him. Again, he cursed your trust. He could be lying to you. He could have nefarious intent. So why did it make him want to protect you all the more?

“No thanks. I’d rather catch up on some classes and prepare for the new semester, but…” You trailed off, eyes lowering to your fingers which continued to fidget incessantly–an annoying habit he noted.

“But what?” Kento got the sense that he wasn’t going to like your answer much. He braced for it, both palms flush on the marble countertop and coaxing you into maintaining his steady eye contact.

“I don’t have anywhere else I can go. My parents are renovating, and I can’t afford to rent a place for two weeks, at least not somewhere actually habitable.”

Kento froze as the weight of your words washed over him. There was a chance that Karin was truly being a good friend since she had been aware of the business trip he was meant to be on right now. It would be so like her to help out a friend in need.

Was he meant to toss you out on your ass? He was within his rights, of course, but could his conscience allow it? It was obvious you weren’t lying or exaggerating to gain his favour, you looked just as uncomfortable telling him the truth as he did hearing it. This whole situation was a mess, and he didn’t see a clear way out of it.

Well, shit…

#delirious recs #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff

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earthtooz · 1 year

Note

OMG IM FROTHING AT THE MOUTH FOR FAKE PT.2 I LOVED PT 1 SM I LOVE YOU SM EHEHEH

𝐅𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ─ when the reader receives hate ! pt 1

includes: reo mikage, michael kaiser, isagi yoichi

warnings: gn!reader, they/them prns in kaiser + isagi, 2k+ wc for reo, 1.6k for kaiser and 1k for isagi, ooc!characters, borderline panic attack in reo's, hate and negative comments, happy endings for all, let me know if i'm missing any warnings, bad wriitng LOL

a/n: ask and u shall receive ! bro why is the cover image so low quality i can't be assed to fix it - ANYWAYS ENJOY ANON !!!

MIKAGE REO:

if there’s one thing reo is used to, it’s the amount of eyes constantly surveying his every move. there is not one aspect of his life that hasn’t been intruded by the amount of aristocratic families wondering how he’s doing. reo’s quite fed up with it himself.

but of course, if there’s one thing dating reo mikage entails, it’s having those same eyes scrutinising your every move even harder- a fact you accepted before he asked you to be his. a fact you were starting to get used to.

despite all the glamourised smiles and ambiguous compliments of your relationship, there will always be some who aren’t afraid to voice their opinions.

which, is how you got stuck talking to some ceo’s daughter at a gala you were attending as reo’s plus one.

“i’m not trying to be mean or anything, just honest,” she says with a particular slice of her hands, flaunting her expensive nails and jewellery. “but i don’t think you’re right for reo, and i know i am not the only one who thinks that! don’t you think it’s time you stop hogging him and y’know, return him to those who really deserve him?”

something disgusting churns within you at the way she talks of your boyfriend, as if he were some goal; a fish in a sea of hungry fishermen. the statement makes you feel violated, you can’t imagine how reo would feel being talked about like this for his entire life.

“and who might that be?” you counter, trying your best to remain calm and not give in to the storm within you.

she flares her nostrils, narrowing her perfectly painted eyes. “look around. take a good glance at the competition.”

“i won’t do that because there is no competition. reo chose me, whether you like it or not,” you firmly place your drink down on the table beside you before pointedly showing her the beautiful promise ring, encrusted with diamonds that reo himself placed on your finger. “besides, if there even was a competition in the first place, i’m afraid you’re all much too late.”

with a final sneer, she turns around with a pointed flick of her healthy, smooth hair before walking away, classy and expensive as ever.

just like everyone around you.

you, on the other hand, find it hard to breathe, and the luxurious fabric of your even more luxurious outfit is clinging to your body. before you even know it, you’re making a run for the exit, slipping past crowds of people and ignoring their looks of curiosity.

no one would bother to look too long anyways.

you should be proud of how you managed to remain level-headed during that interaction, but you can’t help but give in to her manipulative tactics. you did take a good look of the competition and they all looked like millions upon millions of dollars. they have had their life plan sorted from the very moment of their birth, their destiny handed to them of a silver platter, and although you know to look beyond the materialism and gold, it’s hard to ignore it when you’re surrounded by marble walls and crystal chandeliers.

suddenly feeling like an imposter, you just want to hop in a cab and go home.

bolting through expansive halls with decorative arches and doors to match, you’re almost at the parking lot where the chauffeurs awaited, just a flight of stairs await your descent.

it’s not until a hand catches your wrist that you stop.

turning around, you find no comfort in the familiarity of reo’s face which was laced with concern and worry. he’s panting, a thin layer of sweat coating his skin, and his hair was all over his face. was he chasing after you?

“y/n! where are you going?” the purple-haired asks, eyebrows furrowing even more as he notices the distressed state you’re in. he grabs both your hands, manoeuvring you to look him square in the eyes. except, it’s so difficult, you’re looking everywhere but at him. “i was calling your name the entire time, did you not hear me?”

“reo, please, leave me alone,” you request with a shaky voice, trying to get out of his grip with no success.

“i can’t, not when you’re like this,” he protests, “deep breaths, y/n, come back to me.”

a few moments of silence pass by, allowing you to return to your senses as reo holds your hands against his heart, stroking your skin with his thumb. no longer overwhelmed and suffocated by your thoughts, it’s hard to look your boyfriend in the eye, cowering away from his gaze.

“what’s the matter?” he asks gently, pressing a hand against your cheek delicately. it’s warm. you want to melt into him.

“it’s- i, i had a really- you know what, nevermind,” you murmur, shaking your head, turning your back against reo as you pull your hands away from his.

you miss the expression of heartbreak that appears on his pretty face.

your cold actions don’t deter him. instead, it makes him more determined to stay by your side, chasing after you even as you descend down the stairs. since your shoes were a lot more complicated than his, the soccer player catches up to you quickly to guide you by the small of your back as he mirrors your pace.

“i want to go home,” you mutter to him once you’re on the ground, trying your best not to collapse under the gaze of so many, surrounded by butlers and chauffeurs.

he nods with a gentle gaze. “let’s go home then.”

his kindness is not enough to shield you from the scrutiny that bears into you. “no, reo, you should stay, i’ll just catch a taxi home or something.”

he looks at you in pure astonishment, slightly taken back by your weird attitude.

“but i don’t want to. why would i want to stay if you’re not?” asks the purple-haired.

opting to remain silent rather than answer, you try to walk towards the main road of the highway, only to be cut off by reo shoving himself in front of you.

“and why would i let you take a cab home?” your purple-haired lover questions, placing both of his hands on his cheeks so you can finally look him in the eye. “y/n, what’s going on? something happened, didn’t it?”

taking both of his hands away from your face, you take a step away; once again missing the look of astonishment and heartbreak that appears on reo’s face. “nothing happened,” you say stubbornly, rubbing your hands against your arms.

“i don’t want to go home if you’re like this, can we please just talk for a little?” he remains behind you, getting the hint that you don’t want to be provoked or touched in any way, even if it’s killing him. the soccer player’s fingers itch with the need to embrace and trace every part of you that you’ll allow, but, for the sake of your fragile state, he doesn’t.

with a small exhale, you agree. it would be unfair for you to leave reo in the dark, continually brushing off his genuine kindness due to some chick that got in your head.

he leads you towards the gardens nearby which were dimly lit, yet still very beautiful. spring was in full season, so you could only catch glimpses of the beautiful flora that aligned the path, but there was no denying that it was still breathtaking. reo walks beside you, synchronising his footsteps with yours.

eventually, you arrive at a fountain in the middle of the garden. where you take a seat on its marble ledge, reo whispers ‘one second’ to you before running off to the bushes where the red roses were. he returns quickly, jogging back to you with a singular flower in his hands.

“for you, my love,” he declares with a small smile, bowing with an extended hand, expecting you to take his gift.

you readily do, heart warming at his silliness whilst twirling the rose in your fingers. “thank you,” you reply, pressing a kiss to his cheek when he places his hand next to you so he can lean against the fountain for support.

the promise ring you wear on your finger feels heavier than usual, especially when he smiles fondly at you, a lovesick expression on his face that is no doubt mirrored by you.

but looking at him, you can’t help but recall the stinging reality that he lived in a world of glamour, decadence, and allure; only doubled by the fame that came with his life as a pro-soccer player. you love reo with your whole being, really, sometimes you fear that your feelings might be a little too much, but loving him with a materialistic barrier in between is difficult.

the idea of letting him go than stealing him away from the world of mystique feels suddenly a lot kinder.

“reo,” you begin after a few minutes of simply being in each other’s presence. he looks at you with widened eyes and raised eyebrows, directing 100% of his attention towards you. with a deep inhale, you continue.

“do you ever think that… we’re not, meant to be?”

the silence is deafening.

“what do you mean?” he asks with a small stutter of disbelief, “of course we’re meant to be! you’re the one for me- you’re my soulmate!”

usually, when reo says that, it makes your insides gush and flutter, but now it riddles you with guilt and scepticism. “how can you be so sure?”

“y/n,” he sounds so very desperate. reo’s eyes have always been the window to his soul and seeing the way they shine with tears, your chest clenches with an unpleasant feeling. “why are you doubting my love for you?”

his hand goes to your ring finger, playing with the jewellery that you suddenly feel like you don’t deserve.

“you agreed, remember? you agreed to letting me love you forever and loving me in return. i put this ring on you because it’s always going to be you, no matter what circumstance, i’ll always choose you.”

“but is choosing me the right decision?”

“yes, a thousand times yes, there will never be. anyone. but. you.” reo increases the amount of emphasis he puts into each word, now changing his position so that he stood in front of you, caging you with his build. “can you tell me what happened, beautiful? because something clearly did and soured my gorgeous y/n’s mood.”

the sudden onslaught of compliments, mixed with how close reo was, broke down your resolve easily, crumbling at his feet as you gave in to his gentle demands.

“i met an unpleasant someone who told me i should give you up for people who deserve you more,” you whisper, throwing your arms around his neck, a gesture of equal affection and possessiveness.

he hums, seemingly calm but you know better. the furrow of his eyebrows was one of scrutiny and distaste. you’re glad he’s trying to remain subtle, you’ve had enough of emotional responses for one night.

“and who might this unpleasant someone be?”

“i have no idea. she gave me a name but it went in one ear then out the other.”

pressing his face into the junction where your neck and shoulder meet, the soccer player revels at this chance to be close to you.

“it was probably important though,” you reiterate, “and, well, might be able to benefit you a lot better than i ever can.”

he scoffs into your skin, causing you to shiver. “no one’s name is as important as mine, my love, and no one can boost it more than what it’s already worth. if anything, those who have me gets the boost, i’m already the best.”

his (rightfully deserved) cockiness makes you smile ever so slightly as you punch his shoulder. “are you implying i’m a gold digger?”

“well, you didn’t choose me, did you?” asks reo with a raise of his eyebrow. “i begged you to go on a date with me and you only agreed the fourth time i asked.”

the recollection makes a giggle slip past your lips- a sound reo dearly missed as he admires your beauty in the dim lighting of the gardens. he places a fleeting kiss on your neck before looking up at you.

“of course, everyone else won’t know that and assume,” you point out before leaning in towards his lips, unable to resist him much longer.

“who cares?” he mutters against you before melting against you in a gentle kiss filled with love, reassurance, and promises. “they’re all irrelevant anyways, just a bunch of talkers with nothing to back up their words.”

“then what am i?”

“you’re my future. you’re the one that actually cares about me, more than my money or my soccer skills. remember the first day we met and you told me to get out of the way? back in college?”

“well you were blocking my path. i was running late to my class as well.”

reo chuckles, pulling away from you so there was a little distance between your faces. “never thought i’d want someone so bad just because they didn’t know who i was.”

“then show me,” you say with a little challenge in your tone. “screw the gala, take me home, reo.”

“thought you’d never ask.”

MICHAEL KAISER:

“kaiser gets it in! a miracle shot, just what you’d expect from bastard münchen’s genius striker!” the announcer exclaims as the crowd shoots up in excitement, roaring and buzzing with excitement as the members of germany’s football team all swarm around the blond, cheering and celebrating.

kaiser participates in the hype, fist bumping his teammates before running back to position, but not without sparing a look at the screen that was displaying the match. no one misses the kiss he blows in the direction of the camera and although the stadium is filled with squeals (from boys, girls, grown ups and children alike), you know something they don’t.

right before the match, kaiser made you promise that each goal of his equated to ten kisses, a deal that you readily accepted and bumped up to twenty as a way of motivating him to take the game home.

that kiss he blew was just a way of solidifying that he was thinking of you and the wink he sent straight after was just making sure you’d keep your promise.

you can’t help but feel like the luckiest person in the world with him.

as the match progresses, you can tell it’s going to be an easy victory, with all favours towards your lover’s team - kaiser earning another two himself.

it’s almost scary just how effortlessly he dominates, settling the score at 3-1 for bastard münchen, once again making feats you thought were difficult look effortless. as the whistle blew announcing the end of the game, roars fill the stadium once again and you too, jump up with the crowd to cheer as loudly as you can.

repping his jersey with his name on the back, it just feels too good, especially when you bask in the afterglow of a well deserved victory.

you don’t miss the amount of glances kaiser sends your way, antsy to be able to reach you and spend some time with you because he’d rather have you congratulate him than a bunch of old, white men that just want to sponsor him. they can get in line because you’re his top priority.

you hope he sees you and the heart you make with your arms over your head just for him.

dawdling out of the stadium always takes forever because of the amount of people that always come to see his game so when over half the people have cleared out, you make your way down to the front row, where your soccer genius boyfriend was waiting for you.

“you were incredible, my love,” you say as a greeting, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug, one that he readily returns. you don’t really care that he was sweaty, too overwhelmed by how proud of him you were.

not that your opinions really mattered in the grand scheme of things, but kaiser considered it a great lucky charm, one he holds highly.

“as always,” he mutters, pressing a kiss against your cheek. you giggle at the sensation, smiling widely as he continues. “tell me more about how amazing i was.”

rolling your eyes at his arrogance, you decide to indulge him, just a little. “the best out there, greatest soccer player of all time, and you looked so handsome too, my main character,” you pinch his cheek. “done?”

“not at all,” keens kaiser, smiling at you like a cat.

“get your stuff first and then when we’re home, i’m all yours.”

“i’m holding you to your promise, pretty, that’s sixty kisses from you.”

with a final kiss on the forehead as farewell, you bid him goodbye and watch as he runs off to get changed, joining ness who was waiting for him by the exit. the magenta-haired soccer player waves at you from halfway across the field, a gesture you readily return before turning around to go outside.

passing by the security guards who give you a little nod of acknowledgement, you’re relieved to see that the audience that gathered tonight had gone off into their cars, ready to go home for the night.

you’re about to go around to where the players exit so kaiser wouldn’t swarmed by a flurry of fans and reporters, until you’re stopped by a hand on the shoulder. the grip wasn’t strong, but demanding enough for you to turn around and greet whoever wanted to talk to you.

it was a pair of teenage girls. they were well-dressed and pampered, but the look they were giving you was less than friendly. somehow, you already knew where this conversation was going.

“can i help you?” you ask, flashing them a smile.

one of them eyes you up and down, judgement very clear in her eyes. you cringe a little. “are you kaiser’s partner?” she asks.

you nod in affirmation. you hate the sleazy feeling developing in your gut, expanding due to the scrutiny of their gazes. one of the girls nudge the other one in an ‘i told you so’ manner, which is returned with a smirk that is mischievous in kind.

“do you need something from me?” you question, finally letting your astoundment show on your face. really, you just wanted to walk away from this conversation and find kaiser so you could go home.

“yeah, we’re just wondering why, y’know, that he’d choose you.”

“excuse me?”

“like don’t get us wrong, you’re pretty and all, but we just think that you’re kinda bland for him,” one of them states as the other hums in agreement.

the audacity. you furrow your eyebrows and stand your ground.

“okay, cool. what do you suggest i do then since you seem to be experts in my relationship.”

“break up with him, duh?”

“and let one of you date him instead?” you scoff. “fat chance.”

“just give him up, okay? we could love kaiser more than you probably ever could, clout chaser.”

“gold digger!”

now amused more than frustrated, you bite back the laugh that bubbles in your chest. it was entertaining seeing some sixteen year old girls try to tell you that you and your boyfriend (of two years) shouldn’t be together.

being kaiser’s partner had its downsides sometimes, and it was mostly just the hate you receive for ‘stealing’ him off the market, especially since he was so young, some fans didn’t appreciate that he wasn’t an eligible bachelor. but, you’re used to it. so long as you get to watch him in the spotlight, you don’t really mind the darkness.

you sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. “right… are we done here? because this ‘gold digger’ wants to see their partner and congratulate him.”

“what part aren’t you understanding?” one of them asks before the other one completes the sentence. “you and kaiser just don’t look good together!”

before you could answer, a heavy arm drapes itself over your shoulders. “aww, why not?” a familiar voice asks. the two girls in front of you freeze, panic evident on their faces. “what disturbances held you up from seeing me?”

then you see and hear an overload of flashes and camera clicks. kaiser must’ve caught the paparazzi on his way out and you suddenly remember that you left him waiting, feeling slightly guilty when you turn your head to meet his gaze. you wrap your arms around his torso, happier than ever to feel his warmth against your own.

“what happened here?” kaiser asks, a question directed at you and you only.

“they were just telling me that they didn’t like that i was a main role in your theatre,” you say, earning an eyebrow raise from your genius boyfriend. “how should we fix that?”

he hums for a moment, meeting the widened eyes of his fans.

“kick them out,” he simply declares before turning around with you still in his arms. you two pass by paparazzi, paying them little mind except from the small smiles you send their way.

once you’re in a clearer, quieter area, your boyfriend turns to you and embraces you properly, a gesture you return eagerly as he breathes you in.

“what a way to sour such a good victory,” murmurs kaiser, voice muffled by his jersey that you were wearing. “can’t believe i had to play your knight in shining armour instead of the king that i am.”

you pinch his neck which causes him to flinch with a little shriek. always leave it to you to dumb down his narcissism.

“i was handling it myself pretty well, y’know,” you sigh, “being the michael kaiser’s partner, i’ve grown immune to the hate i receive.”

kaiser frowns, “i didn’t think it happened often,” he whispers. “i’m sorry. how many times have you had to defend yourself without me knowing?”

“it hardly matters-”

“-but it does. i don’t like when people slander you, less when it’s for no reason other than because you’re with me. you should be marvelled at and admired, just like the masterpiece you are.”

his words cause butterflies to erupt in your stomach, a feeling you mask with a playful eye roll.

“yes but,” you counter, reaching to cup his cheek, “being with you makes up for it.”

he smirks, contrasting the downhearted expression he wore moments earlier. kaiser’s skill of immediately recovering from whatever kicks him down truly is something to behold and at times, envy. “of course it does,” he boasts, dramatically flipping one of his bangs.

“besides, i’m willing to fight back if it means i get to be with you.”

before he can argue back, you grab his arm and pull him towards the entrance.

“now come on, let’s talk about it another day. i believe i owe you sixty kisses.”

“make it one hundred now for leaving me waiting for so long.”

“if you get too greedy i’ll leave you on the sidewalk.”

“you’d do that to your king? how dare you!”

ISAGI YOICHI:

“what does your mum like?” you ask a clueless isagi who simply stares at the range of perfumes that the department store had displayed.

“i have no idea,” he mutters. “i never really paid attention to what smells she used.”

“fragrances, yoichi, not smells.”

“oh. right,” the star soccer player rubs his neck awkwardly, smiling sheepishly at you after correcting his small mistake.

he was so adorable, you wanted to pinch his cheeks.

this was the first time that isagi was buying a gift for his mother with his own money, and the first person he turned to for help was his partner: you, explaining that this had to be the best gift she’s ever received. for how much she’s done for him, and how much she’s supported his soccer career, isagi doesn’t know if he can repay it through money, but gifts are hard to deny regardless.

readily agreeing to help, you have memories of isagi’s mother welcoming you into the family with warm arms. she would tell you how beautiful you are, how excited she was to meet you, and that her son better treat you well otherwise you could always turn to her for help; a statement that made the star striker gulp.

“i mean, you could never go wrong with a few classics like carolina herrera, dior, or chanel?” you suggest, walking over to the section filled with perfumes contained in shelves, their respective brands displayed on top. isagi follows you like a lost puppy, clinging close to your side by holding your hand, squeezing it ever so often.

everything you’re saying is going in one ear and through the other, and isagi lets it show on his face.

“don’t worry yoichi, any perfume you pick tends to be a good gift regardless, besides, we have the whole day to figure out what your mum likes,” you reason logically, just in case it might provide him with some relief in the midst of expensive, designer fragrances.

“right,” he huffs, reaching out to read the labels of some bottles.

after a long hunt of going through the shelves, he eventually settles on a fragrance from maison francis (with a pricetag that made you gawk yet isagi was very calm about, agreeing without even thinking about it), but since the packaged version was locked in a glass cabinet, you opted to call a store attendant.

“that’s a great idea, babe, need me to go with you?” he asks, readjusting the strap of his beat-up bag, the one he’s had since high school. funny how some things don’t change for isagi, you love that about him.

you shake your head in response, telling him to ‘wait here’ before strolling off.

however, during this brief time of being without you, isagi was approached by a trio who looked like they were a family, the eldest holding a phone between his hand.

“isagi yoichi?” he asks timidly, fiddling with the phone.

the soccer player flashes a friendly smile, hoping to reduce any of the anxiety they might feel from approaching him. he was just an average, friendly guy after all. “that’s me, need anything?”

“can we take a picture?” the middle daughter asks, pressing her hands together in a pleading motion.

“of course! come on.”

the set of siblings smile eagerly before ambling to isagi’s side, who squats down so he could fit in frame. after a ‘3, 2, 1’ countdown, the photo is taken and just as the dark-haired athlete was about to stand up, a store attendant approaches.

“would you like me to take the picture?” they ask politely, gesturing to the phone.

simultaneously, everyone agrees and soon enough, the photo is taken and done, allowing isagi to high-five them before waving them off, the three of them thanking him profusely for his time.

the store attendant lingers, turning to face him with wide eyes of admiration. “wow, i didn’t think i’d ever get to meet you!” they exclaim. “i watched your match against the under-20 team like so long ago! you were amazing!”

“oh, yeah,” isagi chuckles, flustered at all this recognition, even though he’s been getting more and more of it lately, “thank you for your support.”

although he inwardly cringes at the line that he’s reused over and over again, the store helper thinks nothing of it, beaming back at him. “you’re super cute too, do you think i could get your number?”

isagi lets his shock show on his face before blurting out: “no, i have a partner already.”

the attendant’s face drops into a look of disappointment and the striker wants to run off to find you. you never should have left him alone.

“what a shame. the person that you were just with right?” isagi nods. “don’t know what you think is so special about them, i personally think you’re too good for them and should find someone better, but, it’s not up to me.”

isagi feels his vision zero in, growing red with each word. him? too good for you? what irony.

“excuse me?” he vocalised lowly- practically a growl as he eyes the employee down. “i’m giving you three seconds to get out of my sight before i-.”

he’s too preoccupied with the fury he feels to notice the way the attendant squeaks, eyes laced with fear, before scurrying off mid-sentence, fully intimidated by the striker. isagi sighs, slumping his shoulders. he’s never used that tone to anyone outside of soccer in an attempt of pre-game slander and now he just misses you.

where did you run off to?

right on queue, you materialise beside him, huffing with a pout on your face. “i couldn’t find any store attendants, that’s so weird! where’d they go?”

deciding against telling you that he just scared one away for trashing you, he simply leans his body weight on you, sighing when you embrace him tightly so he wouldn’t knock the both of you over.

“whoa, what’s gotten into you all of a sudden?” you ask, unable to hide the smile on your face from his sudden acts of affection. “everything okay, love?”

“i want to go home,” he whispers against your shoulder. “spend some time with you.”

“what about the gift?”

“i’ll order it online. it can arrive in time.”

relenting, you pluck him off you with great effort. “if you’re sure then, okay, let’s go home.”

“we can get takeout from your favourite on the way home.”

“what’s the occasion?”

“thought i needed to show you how much i appreciate you.”

#oh everyone is SO ooc but meh #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock drabble #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi x reader #kaiser x reader #isagi fluff #yoichi isagi x reader #michael kaiser x reader #kaiser michael x reader #reo x reader #reo mikage x reader #mikage reo x reader #reo drabble #reo fluff #kaiser fluff #kaiser drabble #isagi drabble

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dollfacefantasy · 5 months

Text

Puppy Games

pairing: chris redfield x fem!puppy-hybrid!reader

summary: chris develops a soft spot for the hybrid he's taken in and wants to make her birthday extra special

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (m receiving), daddy kink, breeding kink, predator/prey (they play chase)

word count: 5.9k

a/n: this is a birthday present for one of the sweetest, most caring people i've ever met, @nexysworld. i love nexy so so much, and you should all go wish her a happy birthday because she's great and she deserves it. i'm so lucky to call her my friend <3

Chris startles awake upon hearing a creak outside his bedroom window. His life working for the government and fighting bioweapons left him a light sleeper. The slightest noises, like the one he imagined came from the gate to his yard, jolted him awake. Rubbing his bleary eyes, he sits up. He tries to determine if what he heard was real or the remnant of a dream. But then he hears the clatter of something falling over outside, and he knows something, or someone, is out there.

After getting out of bed, he pulls on a shirt and grabs a flashlight and a gun. Slipping on his shoes, he peers out the window and confirms that the gate is open. He cautiously slides out the back door and casts the flashlight around the yard. The beam illuminates the small grassy area, but doesn’t give him an idea of what made that noise.

That is until the beam sweeps over a bit more, and he catches a pair of eyes staring back at him. He jumps from the sudden discovery and aims his weapon. You don’t make any moves at him though. If anything, you look more frightened than he does. You were shaking like a leaf, wide eyes full of fear. He slowly lowers the gun and takes in the sight of you. Floppy ears sprout from the top of your head and a fluffy tail is tucked between your legs. He figures out you’re one of those hybrids he’d heard about. He thought they had only been approved under government supervision for now, but here you were in his backyard.

“Hey there,” he calls as he begins approaching you with caution. He hears you whimper through the darkness, and his heart aches at the vulnerable noise. He closes the gap between the two of you and crouches down to where you had cowered against the fence. You shy away from him, trying to scoot away though you’re prevented by the barrier behind you.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says gently, “What’s your name?”

You look at him for a moment as if you’re contemplating whether he was worth trusting or not. Eventually, you make your decision and respond with your name. Your voice is quiet, so soft he can barely hear it.

“I’m Chris… Are you lost?” he asks. He honestly had no clue why you would be here. It wasn’t like you were a loose housepet. A hybrid like yourself should’ve been stowed away in some facility with the other pups, doing… whatever they did with your kind. He never had the time to look into it much. It wasn’t his sector.

You shake your head as a response, but it doesn’t look like you even believe it. He scans the light over you, looking for any clues as to your origin. You look like you’ve been on your own for a while. You’re littered with cuts and bruises, and you don’t look like you’ve had a shower in a while. The clothes you wear are plain and functional. They look uniform, government-issued. Something glimmering dangling from the pocket of your sweats catches his eye. He pulls the chain and fishes out some metal tags that confirm his suspicions. They were government issued, displaying your ID number, birthday, and division code. He dangles them in front of you.

“What are these, hm?” he inquires.

Your hand shoots out and yanks them back. “Nothing,” you deflect, looking away.

His eyebrow raises. “I told you. There’s nothing to be scared of. But you’re in luck anyways. I work for the BSAA. I’ll have you home in the morning,” he says.

“That place isn’t home. I’m not going back,” you say with a bit of a growl. The first moment you don’t look like a skittish pup. His interest in you grows.

“Why not? You got somewhere else to be?” he asks.

Just as quick as the fight appeared in you, it vanishes. You shake your head and cast your eyes downward. “I don’t have anywhere, but I’m not going back,” you say, quiet determination in your tone.

“Alright… but what am I supposed to do with you? Can’t just keep you in my backyard,” he says, “I’m sure if you got lost it will be no trouble getting you back in.”

“No!” you say, almost sounding pleading. Frustration flashes across your face as you try to figure out what to do. You look up at him again and decide to take the leap of trusting him. You explain why you won’t return to the hell that is your division of the BSAA. You briefly recount the horrors, the inhumane treatment, the suffering.

Chris listens intently. He lets you speak and doesn’t interrupt once. While he wants to say that could never be true, he knows better. And because it is the truth, he knows he could never take you back to a place like that. No one should have to live like that, but especially not a cute little puppy like yourself.

“How about you come inside with me? You can shower, eat, do whatever you need to. Then we’ll figure something out in the morning,” he offers.

You nod. He stands up and sticks out his hand for you. Looking up at him, you take it and let him pull you to your feet. As you follow him inside, you get a better look at him. He’s tall, but even more noticeable, he’s built. He’s maybe the beefiest guy you’ve ever seen. You can only imagine how strong he is with those thick biceps. How easy it would be for him to hold you down. His legs looked powerful too, like he wouldn’t even stumble if you squirmed around in his arms…

Guiding you into the house, he takes you through the living room and down the hall to the bathroom. Everything here was small but cozy. You liked the size of it, much different from the vast government rooms you were used to. They were big but always filled with bulk-ordered, industrial furniture. Everything there was overly sanitized. Here, it looked lived in.

“So shower’s in here. You’ll have to use my soap cause that’s all I’ve got. Towels are in here too,” he lists off after opening the bathroom to you. He scratches the back of his head awkwardly before continuing. “Can you do everything you need to yourself?”

“Yes, I can do it all myself,” you huff with a glare.

He raises his arms in surrender and backs out of the bathroom to let you have some privacy. You shut the door, and for the first time in a while, you have the luxury of being alone in a room that locks from the inside. You take your time in the shower, scrubbing away the months of roughing it. You didn’t even care that it was “his” soap. He smelled nice, and it felt so good getting clean. When you’re done, you get out and dry yourself off. It’s at this moment that you realize he didn’t give you any clothes.

You timidly peek out of the bathroom, ears bowing. “Chris?” you call.

He appears after a moment. “Yeah?” he answers.

When he sees you wrapped in a towel, he quickly averts his eyes. He grumbles to himself as he comes to the same realization you had moments earlier. He goes into his room and gets one of his shirts and a pair of his sweats for you. He’s quick to bring it back and hand it to you through the sliver of space left by the open door.

Before you retreat to the bathroom, he catches one more glimpse of your body. Your pretty legs and soft skin. Now that you’re clean, he can really see your cute face and delicate features. He shakes his head and gets himself focused again before he heads back to the kitchen.

On the other side of the door, you begin putting on the clothes he gave you. They’re huge on you to the point that it’s almost comical. You roll the sweats as much as you can, but they still struggle to stay up. What really gets you though, is his scent. It’s all over these. You press the cloth to your nose and take in the heady masculine smell. You’re nearly loopy with how it makes you feel, the urge to be claimed flaring up within you.

After you finish dressing, you join him in the kitchen. You hop up onto a seat at the counter while he fidgets with something in the corner. He brings over a plate with a sandwich to you.

“I didn’t really know what you liked, but I’m sure you're hungry,” he says simply.

You nod appreciatively and begin eating. While you’re occupied with that, he goes into the living room and sets you up a bed on the couch. He lays out a few thick blankets and puts some pillows down. It isn’t much, but he’s sure it’s better than wherever you’ve been sleeping on your own.

Once you’re done with your food, you go into the living room and watch him fluff up the cushions for you. He gestures for you to lay down once he finishes, and you do so. He feels a protective urge spark inside him. He doesn’t know how you’d feel about any kind of affection, but he just wanted to do something nice before you slept. He reaches down and brushes some hair out of your face before giving your ear a light and playful tug.

“See you in the morning, pup,” he says instead before exiting to his bedroom.

You squirm a little from the gesture, but a shy smile graces your lips. Your first hint that maybe he wasn’t such a stiff. After he left, you pull your pillows into place and cover yourself with the blankets he provided to try and sleep.

A couple of hours go by though, and you’re still awake. The makeshift bed he created for you was much better than anything you’d slept on in a while, but you still couldn’t get yourself to drift off. You shift around for a bit, trying to get comfy. Nothing works. You whine and kick the blankets off yourself. Huffing with irritation, you try to figure out what it is. Part of you already knows, but the other half soon catches up.

His scent. It was all over you now that you’d bathed in his soap and were wearing his clothes. It followed you everywhere you went. It told you everything you needed to know about him on an instinctual level. With every breath, your body ached for him. Deep down inside, you wanted him there with you, holding you, whispering that everything was ok, that you were a good girl.

You look over, down the hall at his door. It was mostly shut, but a little crack was left open. It was basically calling for you to come in.

So you get up and pad across the hall. You’re sure to be quiet, set on not disturbing his rest. You slip through the door and make your way to the foot of the bed. You stand there for a moment. He was asleep, facing the edge of the bed, shirt off again. Your tail swishes slowly as you contemplate the idea.

‘Should I?’ you think to yourself. It was a risk, but you wanted to be near him so bad. You were tired of being alone.

So you decide to go for it. You kick off his annoying sweats. They kept pooling around your feet and tripping you, so they were left on the floor. You crawl onto the mattress and up the bed. He stirs, but you keep going. You’re quick to slide next to him, slotting yourself against his back. You wrap your arms around him and nuzzle against his warm skin.

That easily wakes him. His eyes flutter open, and he mumbles in confusion as he tries to turn around. It takes him a moment when you’re clinging to him like that, but he manages and looks down at you. He blinks a few times, watching with bewilderment as you tuck yourself against his chest and nestle your face against his muscles.

“What are you doing?” he rasps.

Your head snaps up at the sound of his voice. Not wanting to get kicked out, you look at him with the best timid puppy dog eyes you can manage. “It’s cold out there,” you say sadly.

“I gave you blankets,” he says.

You sigh a little. Clearly, he was dense in more ways than physical.

“I got lonely too… It’s hard for me to sleep alone,” you say, starting to pout a little.

He continues looking at you. He wasn’t completely oblivious. He knew how much you had been through so far. What kind of guy would he be to deny you some comfort in your time of need?

“Alright, c’mere,” he sighs and pulls you into his chest all the way, wrapping those big arms around you. One hand rubs your back while the other strokes your hair. “Get some sleep, pup. You need to rest.”

You nod obediently and settle in. With his warmth and scent engulfing you, you’re out like a light. It’s not even ten minutes later before he senses the soft, even rhythm of your breath, letting him know you’re asleep. He shuts his eyes too, dozing off for the night.

In the morning, when Chris wakes, he feels you before he sees you. He feels your warm body pressed to his, your quiet breaths fanning over his skin. He cracks his eyes open and finds you looking as precious as he imagined, tail twitching in your sleep. It was at that moment that he knew for certain that there was no way he was letting anyone else at the BSAA get their hands on you. He wouldn’t be able to rest ever again knowing you were locked away, hurting and sad.

He waited a little while after you woke up to pitch the idea, not wanting to startle you with such a big life change the second you opened your eyes. But once he did lay out the possibility of staying with him, you were all in. Chris’s house was a thousand times better than a park bench or alleyway, and you thought he was pretty nice.

Of course, after a few months of staying together, you both thought much more of the other than “pretty nice.” You loved him, and he completely adored you. You were the piece from his life he didn’t even know was missing. You gave him love he never felt anywhere else and let him express love in return. You were the sweetest little thing he’d ever come across, so affectionate and loving, but you were funny too, always making him laugh with whatever you got up to.

As he spent more time with you, he loved finding out things you liked and little quirks about your personality. He found you loved sitting in his lap, loved curling up with a nest of blankets. He found he loved buying you things in your favorite color just to see your eyes light up. Never did he think his room would be crowded with stuffies and other things of that nature.

It only took no time at all for him to understand how playful you were. He could never be bored with you around. You always wanted to mess with him. You’d taken to calling him “daddy” pretty quickly. The first time he’d heard you say it, all his thoughts came to a screeching halt.

“What’d you say?” he asked.

You repeated yourself confidently with no indication that you’d done anything out of the ordinary. He tried to explain to you why that maybe wasn’t the best idea, but you put on the same puppy dog eyes that convinced him to let you stay in bed on your first night. So from then on, he had a cute puppy girl running around his house calling him daddy.

Even though he wasn’t crazy about it at first, he justified that if it would make you happy, it was worth it. Soon enough though, that word falling from your lips was his favorite sound in the world. He told himself it was because it showed how comfortable you were with him. It definitely wasn’t because he felt his blood rushing south whenever you curled up to him and looked at him with those big sweet eyes saying you loved your daddy.

You also always wanted to play. Whether it was chase or wrestling, the two of you weren’t going to relax until you were thoroughly tired out. Chris loved seeing you have fun, but these games made it harder to suppress the effect you had on him. When he’d chase after you, he'd force himself to just pick you up in the end and not pin you down and stuff you full of him till you were truly exhausted. Or when you’d wrestle, you’d wiggle your hips, whimper and whine, all while he had you underneath him. Every time he’d have to end it by going to the bathroom and jerking off real quick before returning to you.

It all came to a head though when you developed the habit of sitting between his legs while the two of you watched tv. You loved being surrounded by his strong arms, but there was something about being below him, encased by his massive thighs. You’d get comfortable with your blanket and just relax between his legs, resting your head against his knee. And that was fine, but then you wanted to look up at him. You’d turn around on your knees, gazing up at him like the lovesick puppy you were. And then one day you started to nuzzle your face against his lap.

“Hey, hey, baby, what are you doing?” he said quickly, trying to lift you off him before it was too late.

“Just showing you I love you,” you responded, continuing to drag your nose along his pants and even pressing little kisses to the area.

He squirmed a bit. Obviously, had he really wanted to, he could have pushed you off him in a second. But he didn’t want to hurt your feelings. Not to mention he liked how it felt. Once he’d given up his resistance, it wasn’t long before there was a large, hard bulge in his jeans. You were still his precious pup, but you were also a pretty girl rubbing her face all over his cock. He was only human.

You weren’t stupid. This is what you had wanted all along. It’s why you called him daddy, put yourself in every compromising position you could think of. You thought you made it completely obvious that you wanted him to take you and fuck you dumb whenever he felt like it. But all that went over his head, so this is what it came to. But fortunately, it seemed to work.

You freed him from the constraints of his pants and watched his cock spring to life. Timidly wrapping your fingers around it, you brought it to your lips. You licked it a few times and kissed the tip before sliding it into your mouth. Chris’s eyes fell shut as he groaned.

“Fuck, baby. Such a good puppy,” he grunted, tipping his head back.

You sucked with dedication, savoring the heavy weight of him on your tongue, the smell of his musk filling your nose. Your saliva dribbled down his cock as you bobbed your head. He petted your hair mumbling that you were such a good girl for him, such a pretty puppy.

You kept going, using your hand on the part your mouth struggled to cover. He pulsed in your mouth, his muscles tightening as he spilled his hot cum down your throat. You wanted to keep going, and that’s when he really had to use his strength to pull you off and lift you into his lap.

From then on, that became part of your shared routine. He found it was a way to keep you occupied that didn’t take much work on his part. He’d come home, and you’d scramble to the door to greet him. You’d talk a little about each other’s days. Then he’d sit on the couch, already undoing his belt, and ask “Does my pup think she deserves a treat?”

You’d vigorously nod, tail wagging as you positioned yourself at his feet while he pulled his cock out. You’d take it in your mouth as soon as he let you and just shut your brain off. Chris would watch your eyes go glossy as you drooled all over his shaft and lapped at his balls. He realized that this was a way to feel close to him more than anything else.

The first heat you had while living with him brought you even closer together than the countless blowjobs. He basically stayed buried balls deep in you for an entire weekend. He pumped you full with load after load, only taking small breaks when he absolutely had to.

Even when you weren’t in heat, he felt like he could barely keep up with you sometimes. Your favorite way to play became to bounce on his lap till you couldn’t think straight or have him pound you into the mattress until it felt like the bed would break. He couldn’t complain though. How lucky was he to have such a loving pup?

Everyday with you in his life was brighter than the last. Today though, today was a very special day. Today was your birthday. He comes home from work, small bag in hand. As usual, the second you hear the front door shut, you rush to come see him. You fling yourself into his chest, nearly toppling him over despite your smaller stature.

“Woah, hey there, sweetheart. Miss me today?” he says. He ruffles your hair before wrapping his arm around you and walking to the kitchen. You were still clinging onto him as the two of you walked. Your tail brushes his back as it swishes with your excitement.

“Miss you everyday,” you murmur.

“Get in any trouble today, baby?” he teases.

“No, but the day’s not over yet,” you beam up at him.

He laughs lightly and shakes his head. “Well, I think I need you to hold off on that for a little longer cause I have something for you,” he says, lifting the bag and showing it off for you.

“A treat?” you ask excitedly.

“Mhm, a special treat for my birthday girl,” he says. He places the bag on the counter and smiles at you eyeing it with curiosity.

“What is it?” you ask, ears perking up.

“Why don’t you open it and find out?” he says.

So you do. You tentatively reach forward and take the plain white tissue paper between your fingers. Pulling out the sheets, you drop them to the floor and tilt the bag into your line of sight. Pale purple fluff sticks out of the top. You pull the object out and find a pretty stuffed bear, another you could add to the growing collection on your side of the bed. You look up at him, beaming. He laughs softly and shrugs.

“Glad you like it, pup. I got one more thing in there for you though,” he says.

He takes out a small square box and opens it. After he puts it on the countertop, you see it’s a cupcake decorated with pretty purple frosting. While you admire the color of the dessert, Chris reaches over you and sticks a candle in the top. He lights it up and tucks your hair behind your ear.

“I’m not gonna sing for ya, but I want you to make a wish,” he says softly.

You didn’t even know what to say. No one had ever even celebrated your birthday before let alone been so nice about it. You take a moment to contemplate what you’d even wish for. He steps closer and hugs you from behind, rubbing your arm.

“Go ahead, sweetheart. I won’t even ask what you wished,” he whispers and plants another kiss on your head.

You finally decide and blow out the candles. You then turn to him and hug him like you did when he first walked through the door. His hand runs over your head. He cracks another smile hearing you mumble a thank you.

“You’re welcome, baby. Just wanted you to have a nice birthday. You wanna eat your cake now?” he says.

You look up at him and shake your head. He would have been confused, but he recognizes the look in your eyes. You’re up to something. There’s a plan forming in that pretty head of yours.

“Oh? Why not?” he asks.

“Well, remember last night. You said we could do whatever I wanted tonight, and I said I had to think about it. But now I know,” you say as you take a step back from his large frame.

“And what is it that you want to do?” he asks, following with a pace in your direction.

You walk over to the door leading to the backyard, and your goal starts to become clear to him. “You were bad today, Daddy. You left the back door unlocked. Woulda been so easy for me to get out and run away,” you say with that mischievous lilt in your voice.

“Oh, but why would my puppy want to do something like that on her birthday? Thought you were my good girl. Good girls don’t behave like that,” he says, joining your game without hesitation.

“I am a good girl. But I get so bored,” you whine, “Need to run around.”

You open the door and step out onto the porch. He follows along, a knowing smirk rising to his face.Your tail goes back and forth behind you

“If you want to do that, you ask Daddy. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you Daddy knows best. You can’t be trusted out here on your own. You’ll get hurt and then come running home, crying. And you know it breaks my heart to see my baby upset,” he says.

“I wouldn’t do that. I’d be fine. Don’t need Daddy to take care of me,” you challenge. Despite your bratty facade, you could barely suppress your grin.

“Wow,” Chris says and places his hand on his chest, feigning hurt, “Who knew my puppy was so tough, hm? Is the same girl that whines me for more kisses? Clings to my legs every chance she gets? The same girl who begs me to breed her every single night? Maybe I’ve spoiled you too much. Made you an ungrateful little brat.”

Your face heats up and your ears fall. You struggle to think of a good response.

“That’s what I thought,” he chuckles, “So c’mon pretty puppy, get back in the house, and we’ll eat that cake in there. Bought it just for you.”

You shake your head. “It’s my birthday. I get to do whatever I want. You said so yourself, can’t take it back now,” you say before bolting out the gate and through the grass to the vast sea of trees behind the house.

He shakes his head and starts running after you. “Sounds like the only thing you want right now is for me to teach you some manners and pound that little cunt into the dirt,” he calls after you.

Your laughter carries through the open forest air. You prance over tree roots and under branches, occasionally looking over your shoulder to gauge how far behind Chris was. He bounds across the dirt along your trail. He tears through the foliage, biceps flexing against his shirt as he pushes the plant life out of the way.

Excitement courses through your limbs. You're breathing hard, your heart slamming against your ribcage while gliding through the woods. He’s gaining on you quickly though. Yeah, you were fast, but he was fast and had longer legs. If he wanted to, you’d be caught already. But a big part of the fun for you was the chase.

After a bit more running though, he decides it’s time to call it. He runs with extra speed for a few strides and lunges towards you. You squeal as he tackles you to the ground. He made sure you were engulfed by him though, shielded from any potential harm.

You both roll through the dirt, but at the end of your tussle, he’s on top, pinning you against the earth with a thud. He smiles down at you.

“Oh no, looks like my puppy’s birthday plans have been ruined,” he breathes while looking down at you in your compromising position.

“Mhm, it’s your fault meanie,” you whimper, attempting to jab your knees into his sides.

He dodges the weak attacks and laughs. “Too bad. I’m a meanie, and you’re my little brat. That’s just how it is,” he says as he begins pulling your clothes off you and piling them up nearby.

“Daddy!” you whine and swat at him, “Someone could see!”

He chuckles at that. He tears your panties off you and flips you over onto your stomach with ease. Leaning forward, he speaks into your ear.

“Yeah, and what are they gonna see? Just a responsible owner training his naughty little puppy. Don’t think anyone would object to that.”

He yanks you around some more, getting you into position. Your cheek is pressed to the dirt while your ass is in the air. He holds your hip and grinds his clothes bulge against your soaked pussy. You whimper from the sensation, rocking your hips onto the material as much as you can in his grip. You leave behind some slick on the fabric once you’ve pulled away.

“Look at you. Such a messy baby. We’re gonna have to train that out of you too,” he says.

Before you know it, his pants are down just enough for his cock to spring out. He lines up with your entrance and starts pushing in. Your walls embrace him like always, as if welcoming home. He groans from the warmth that squeezes around him while you gasp from the stretch.

He doesn’t give you much time to adjust before he starts pumping himself in and out of you. You whimper and dig your fingers into the ground, seeking some form of leverage for yourself. His hips bump into you over and over, dragging your soft cheek against the dirt.

“I’m not hearing any of that attitude now? What happened, pup, ten seconds on daddy’s dick, and you’re fucked stupid?” he mocks.

“No!” you mewl. Your hips are rocking back into his, meeting every single thrust.

“Whatever you say, birthday girl,” he grunts

He’s not gentle right now. His hips connect with your ass at a rapid pace, the clapping echo sounding through the trees. His fingers are digging into your flesh, his teeth poke his own lip as his own pleasure floods his body.

“I don’t know how many times I’ve had to teach you this same. fucking. lesson. You need your daddy,” he grunts, punctuating each word with a thrust, “You’re so stubborn, pup. Gonna have to do this even more than usual to get you to loosen up.”

You babble protests against the dirt and weakly shake your head.

“What’s that?” he asks with a particularly harsh thrust, “Talking back still? Guess I haven’t done good enough yet.”

He keeps up his thrusts, maintaining a consistent speed, but increasing the power. You jolt with each stroke. Your hands curl into complete fists. You cry out, your legs twitching in the dirt. Soon enough, you’ve given up on playing defiant and willingly fall into submission for him.

“Mmm, daddy… feels… feels good. Best daddy in the whole world,” you slur.

“Yeah, now that you’re getting some cock, I’m the best daddy ever. Funny how that works,” he teases as he continues to drill into you.

He watches you squirming on the ground beneath him. He leans down closer to you, pressing his muscular front to your back, letting you feel his size, how easy it is for him to keep you in place and use you for his pleasure.

“You know, sweet baby, I think I’ve got a solution for this problem you keep having, but don’t worry it’s one you’ll like,” he says.

“Wh- mmph- what is it?” you ask around whimpers.

“I’m just gonna have to do what you’re always asking. Gonna have to breed my pretty little puppy,” he answers.

“Gonna- gonna breed me?” you repeat.

“Yeah, baby, gonna breed you. Stuff you full of cum. And if it doesn’t take out here, don’t worry, I’ll make sure it does at some point tonight. Gonna have you carrying my babies by the end of the week,” he grunts with a smack to your ass.

You moan and nod excitedly. “Yeah, yeah, want it,” you slur.

“Oh, I know you do, and think about it, it will work out for both of us. You’ll be the prettiest mama for our pups, make me so proud every single day. And you’ll be too swollen to run off and get yourself hurt. Isn’t that great?”

A blissful smile spreads on your face. “Mhm, great. Smart daddy,” you say, your voice a clear display of how fucked out you are.

“Good girl. Daddy has to be smart to take care of his dumb little puppy, always causing trouble,” he says.

He felt you trembling hard, pulsing around his cock as you got close to cumming. He works himself deeper inside you, stroking all the places you need to reach that high point. A few more thrusts and you burst. You gush around him with a long whine. You squirm and buck as he holds you in place and keeps rutting into you until it becomes too much for him. He also lets loose and shoots his cum inside you. He fucks it into you a bit, before slowly pulling out.

You collapse onto your side, crumpling up on the dirt just like your clothes. He smiles at that, finding it so precious. He rubs your back gently and leans down to kiss your temple.

“Such a good puppy baby. My good girl,” he coos and scratches behind your ears.

He cleans himself off a little. It doesn’t take much work before he’s looking like he was before. You, on the other hand, are a whole other story. For you, he brushes the dirt off you as best he can, knowing you’re gonna need a bath after you take a nap. He then pulls your clothes back on, over your limbs which are mostly limp at the moment. Kissing your forehead, he scoops you up and starts carrying you back to the house. You’re all sleepy and clingy, tightening your arms around him and mumbling about how much you love him.

“I know, pup,” he reassures you, rubbing your back as he keeps heading towards the house.

Once he’s there, he takes you inside and flops down in his old recliner. He kicks it back and cradles you to his chest. You get comfy pretty quick, snuggling up to him and nuzzling his chest.

“That’s it, baby. Daddy’s got you. Get some rest, and then we’ll have some cake when you’re up,” he whispers.

You give one more drowsy nod before passing out on top of him. He holds you even closer, watching his precious puppy rest.

“Sweet dreams, birthday girl.”

#chris redfield x reader #chris redfield x you #chris redfield x y/n #chris redfield smut #chris redfield imagine #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #smut

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ncityprincess · 1 year

Text

pick up the phone, baby

plot: phone sex with boyfriend jaehyun

MDNI

you tossed your head back and let out a long sigh of frustration. there you were, stark naked and sprawled out in the middle of your large bed. with your man out for the night, it left you feeling lonely and needy. you were trying to find a way to pass some time all alone in your quiet apartment.

it wasn't like this was your first night alone without jaehyun. you and jaehyun always gave each other the space to have your own separate lives and interests outside of the relationship. jaehyun encouraged you to go to brunches and vacations with your friends, and you made it clear that you respect his lifestyle and friendships.

however, you weren't feeling so understanding this particular night.

you kept rubbing at yourself, itching for your climax like madwoman, but it never came. you just couldn't satisfy yourself the way you wanted to. you decided you needed some extra reinforcement and went to go fish for your trusty vibrator, only to find out it was dead. perfect.

why did jaehyun have to have his guys night tonight of all nights…

"fuck it!" you spat out and retrieved your phone from under the thick comforter. it took you no more than five seconds to unlock your phone and call your unsuspecting boyfriend.

jaehyun reached for his phone in his back pocket when he felt it vibrate. Considering the possibility that it could be you calling, he got up from the couch in search of some quiet and privacy. "yo yuta! you can take my turn." jaehyun said as he tossed yuta his controller. yuta merely nodded at him and picked up the controller so he could get ready to play.

jaehyun walked past the kitchen where Johnny and taeyong were making themselves drinks and headed into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. low and behold, it was your beautiful contact photo gracing his lock screen. jaehyun picked up your call with a smile.

"hi my love, everything okay? have you eaten something yet?" jaehyun rambled into the phone like the attentive and sweet boyfriend he was. his innocent line of questioning almost took you out of your horny haze, the whole reason why you had called in the first place.

"hi." was all you said back in an airy tone.

jaehyun scratched his head softly. "um hi, is everything okay?" he repeated curiously.

"how's your little party with the guys going?" you asked in an even tone, mindlessly twirling a strand of your hair.

jaehyun had to admit, he was stumped. this outing wasn't something out of the norm for him. he always got together with his members. whether it was to play video games and order ungodly amounts of takeout, or sing karaoke until sunrise, this was nothing new. he appreciated you seemingly taking interest in how his night was going, but something was off...

"so far so good. we've just been playing the game and hanging out. we actually just ordered some pizza. I can bring you back a few slices if you want? we ordered from that place that we went to a few weeks ago. you know, the one next to the park. Their mozzarella sticks were......uh y/n?" jaehyun paused when he heard your labored breathing on the other end.

what jaehyun didn't know is that you were running your hands up and down your body while he was talking in that sexy husky voice of his. you always had a thing for his deep voice. it brought tingles all over your body. your hands had settled back on your dripping pussy, right where they were before you had called him.

"mm, mhm?" you moaned out, almost not realizing he had called your name. you were so into how good his voice sounded over the phone...

"what are you doing?" jaehyun questioned.

you let out a soft giggle, running a hand through your hair. "I'm laying down in our big bed, all alone and bored." you replied slowly. seductively.

jaehyun got a whiff of your bedroom voice and didn't waste any time letting his mind wander to darker places. he walked back over toward the bathroom door and locked it.

"aww, you poor thing. what's a girl like you gonna do about that boredom, huh?" jaehyun goaded.

his words shot directly to your core, making you speed up your movements on your buzzing clit.

"what am I gonna do about it, or what am I doing about it?" you purred out mischievously.

jaehyun smirked and ran his hand over his jaw. so that's what his girl was doing this whole time. being a little slut.

"oh you naughty girl. that's why you're calling me, huh? can't stand being alone so you need me to talk you through it?"

"I mean if you're offering, yeah I'd like you to talk me through it actually"

jaehyun glanced at the door. the faint sounds of the video game and the guys' intermittent laughter and chatter seemed to mask over what was going on in the bathroom.

or at least he hoped so.

“baby, the guys are right outside the door.” he said with a warning tone. it only made you wetter.

“i don’t care daddy, need you so bad." There it was, the one word that made Jaehyun go insane.

“fuck. you and that slutty fucking mouth of yours…”

“it's your fault. you made me this way.” you sighed out, spreading your legs even wider.

“oh did i?”

“you know you love it when i talk nasty, daddy.”

jaehyun chuckled incredulously and leaned his back against the cold bathroom wall. “you’re something else, you know that y/n?”

“oh just shut up and make me feel good already” you said with a twisted smirk.

jaehyun groaned softly and shoved his hand down his grey sweatpants, ghosting his hand over his stiff dick.

"what are you doing to yourself, darling?"

you bit your lip, excited to tell him every last detail. "I'm grabbing my tits while I rub my pussy. but I really wish it was you doing it."

"yeah? you wish I was home so I could take care of you? touch all over my little baby and make her feel good?" jaehyun spat on his hand and slid it up and down his shaft. holy fuck he couldn't wait to get home to you.

"mhm. I love it when you put your hands all over me. it's not the same without you."

jaehyun felt a tinge of pride in his chest, knowing that he had a beautiful girl waiting for him at home who craved him just as much as he craved her.

"fuck baby. is that pussy ready to be fucked yet? think you can slide a few fingers in?" jaehyun gritted out, feeling himself get close due to the erotic situation he was in.

you didn't hesitate for a second and slowly slipped two fingers inside of yourself. you let out a slutty moan when you felt your fingers stretch you open.

jaehyun chuckled darkly, "I guess I have my answer then. go on, fuck yourself nice and deep for me. I want you nice and stretched out for me when I come home tonight, ok?"

"yeahhhhhh." you whined out and rocked your hips against your hand. who knew all you needed was the sound of your man's voice to get you off. this was way better than whatever you were trying to do before.

"god Jae I'm sooo wet. need you." you whined out, turning over onto your stomach. you felt your fingers much deeper in this position and let out more lewd sounds of pleasure.

jaehyun wanted nothing more than to bury his face between your thighs and hear all of those delicious sounds in person. he was halfway tempted to leave the hangout without saying a word. could you blame him? the love of his life was at home fucking herself to the sound of his voice.

jaehyun jerked himself off roughly, eager to get himself off quickly. not only was the situation he was currently in extremely hot, he was also mildly aware that his friends were waiting for him to come back and join them.

"alright baby, I need you to cum for me. let me hear how hard you can make yourself cum."

you were so close you could taste it. all it took was a few more bounces on your fingers and you were exploding all over them. jaehyun's face contorted in immense pleasure while listening to you ride out your high and before he knew it, he was blowing his load all over his hand. it took every ounce of self control to not make a sound in this echoey bathroom.

both of you were catching your breath and calming down from the intense highs you experienced.

"well I never thought I'd find myself jerking off in taeyong's bathroom but there's a first time for everything I guess."

you covered your face in your hands, slightly embarrassed thinking about what just transpired not too long ago.

"don't come back too late ok? I'm not done playing with you, daddy." you said lightheartedly.

jaehyun finished cleaning himself up and pulled his sweats back up. "aye aye, honey. call me if you need anything. I love you so much."

jaehyun wrapped up in the bathroom and tried his hardest to act like he wasn't just phone fucking his girlfriend a few minutes ago. jaehyun walked into the kitchen to grab some water. Johnny smirked slightly and grabbed his drink. He exited the kitchen past jaehyun, but not before busting his balls.

“tell y/n i said hi” johnny said with a shit eating grin.

thanks for reading! please leave me a little tip if you enjoyed the story and are feeling generous :)

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were-changing-cake-vaults · 3 months

Text

Doc is really, really, really tired of getting dragged into things.

That’s the problem with this server: he tries to do his own thing, but people cannot leave him alone. No matter what he does to deter them, whether that be harmless threat or psychological warfare, they always come back to dance on his metaphorical lawn. Or actual lawn. Or precious one-of-a-kind bush.

And at this point, he thought he had gotten used to all the shenanigans. He doesn’t want to be the grumpy old man amongst his friends and colleagues, so Doc tries to laugh it off, not take it so seriously. Occasionally, he’ll even join in on the jokes and put a little extra pizzazz into his mannerisms. Doc has his limits, of course, everyone does, but he’s been working on pushing those limits further for the past while.

So when Beef makes the joke about Big Salmon on day one, he joins in on it for the moment. It’s a good joke, really. It gets a hearty laugh out of him more than once. The joke is made, people laugh, Doc is included, he moves on and goes back to doing his own thing.

Honestly, he doesn’t even remember what he said. The joke should’ve been a one-and-done, forgotten after a week’s time. Whatever he said should’ve been inconsequential. Should be. Beef’s not one to drag out a bit for that long, usually, but here he is, dressed as a salmon and saying he got emails from a fish. Doc is utterly clueless throughout most of it- he doesn’t even understand what constituted him getting dragged in this time. And the way Beef and Skizz are talking is scaring him, just a little bit. Skizz is too aggressive, Beef is laying down the charmspeak, and both of their eyes are glossy and strange. There’s a hollow echo in the room.

But Doc, absurd as this is, plays along. Watches as one of his villagers gets killed. Lets nervous laughter through as he’s given 10 salmon heads, and leaves. When he gets back to his base out in the middle of nowhere, he realizes that these aren’t normal salmon heads, they’re worse: deformed, many-eyed, slimy and reeking of rot. And while this isn’t the strangest thing Doc has seen, as far as he knows, Beef isn’t one for game-breaking like he is. The deformities on the heads don’t even look player made. Whatever this is, it’s bizaarre, and it’s not something Doc wants to be involved in.

Then the whispers start.

He doesn’t do what he’s asked—build a shrine for whatever Big Salmon is—initially. He lets it be for a bit, shrugs it off, and keeps building. But it’s hard to focus when you can’t sleep—in his dreams he’s drowning, sinking deeper and deeper, sea life surrounding him and screaming and he’s screaming too as a pair of eyes stare him down—and when you can’t get a moment of quiet. He keeps hearing that damn slapping sound and little nothings about shrine schematics, block pallets, glorious statues. The air starts reeking of rot, far more than a swamp should. Strange slime crawls up the scaffolding that he keeps slipping on.

And this is why Doc is tired: Big Salmon is not his first rodeo. This isn’t the first time something has grabbed hold of his soul and tried to puppeteer it to his own demise. This isn’t even the scariest thing he’s come across- he still dreams of watching himself rip his own arm off. He knows gods and entities like he knows redstone, all the intricacies of magic that weave through the universe. They want to be satisfied, satiated. Doc will not give whatever Big Salmon is that satisfaction, not for long.

So he puts up with the rot, the slime, the dreams. Keeps the salmon heads, perpetually grotesque, in a chest where he can see them. Gives them a minuscule in: blueprints are crafted of the shrine he is meant to build, dying leaves are placed and waterlogged, copper is bent and formed into a worthless statue. The sky is cloudy. The sky has been cloudy all week, swamp air thick with the smell of rotting fish. He gives Beef a call, tells him to bring Skizz along.

When what should be Doc’s friend arrives, he is more fish than man. The tinnitus-like whisper of the thing trying to get him reaches a roar as he gives Beef a look over- there is no telling where the suit ends and the skin begins, all scaled, slimy and opalescent. Skizz, on the contrary, is looking relatively normal; the only strange thing about him are his glazed over eyes. Something about that makes Doc queasy about his plan, but he swallows the bile rising in his throat and steels himself, forces himself to be calm. This is not his first rodeo.

Doc’s faked smile doesn’t fail him as he leads Beef and Skizz to the statue. It doesn’t fail him as he hands the last rotting head to Beef for him to place, on top of an over-polished button. His grin only widens as Skizz counts down his boss pressing the button.

With a single button press, the voices that have taken residence in Doc’s head are wiped out, as are Skizz and Beef: bloody…fish…bits fly high into the sky when they fall into the exploding trap. There is a deafening boom, and then there is Doc, unscathed, laughing wickedly, organic eye sparkling with mania. Gods never win against him. There is no winning against the goat.

And finally, with the threat of Big Salmon defeated, Doc can finally rest. After all, he is incredibly tired.

#woosh writes #oceans calling au #docm77 #hermitcraft au #hermitcraft #FINALLY! ITS FUCKING DONE!!!!#HOLY FUCK THIS TOOK ME FOREVER #I am so sorry this took as long as it did- a bajillion irl things happened and that delayed my writing significantly #ANYWAYS. [SCREAMS]

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yuri-is-online · 2 months

Note

Fyuuture Kid AU is actually my favorite au of yours; I just think it's cute! How's floyd Yutu? I feel like there would be a thin line between "You're cool ig" and "You and shrimp are a little... close. Stop it." But once he knows that's his kid? Yeah all bets are of. Sorry Azul; he actually CANT go to work today he's too busy being a FATHER and a HUSBAND (these single fucks can cry about it)

No because this is exactly what I see happening and just the image of Floyd being like "nah I can't hang out spouse needs my help with the kid. Oh you wouldn't get it because YOU GOT NO BITCHES" he's just so silly I love him so much (つ╥﹏╥)つ

notes: they/them used for Yuu, this is part of the fyuuture kid au, Floyd's part can be found here, and the explanation for the au can be found here. You can find even more stuff for it on my masterlist under the series section.

Yutu wasn't really prepared for the first people he saw to be his parents. He knew he was going to have to see them eventually, and he did a lot of preparing mentally for seeing Yuu again but his dad? His father who he has heard so many stories about, the person he admires second only to you?

"And who's this little guppy?" The whites of Floyd's eyes widen as he zeros in on him, Yutu's senses force him to drop into a defensive stance and get in between the danger and Yuu. He's being circled by a larger, more dangerous predator. Every nerve ending in his body is screaming he is in danger, that Yuu's in danger, but he feels happy. He knows what his father's voice sounds like now.

"I ain't a guppy." The points of his teeth flash, but Floyd isn't amused by Yutu's claim.

"You are what I say you are, small fry."

Floyd! Yutu is very extroverted. He enjoys talking to people and had a lot of friends before and after being isekaid. If Yuu or one of his friends was more introverted he took a great deal of pride in doing most of the talking for them. He likes being helpful, or at least he says he does. If you've seen those videos of morays who act like puppies around divers they've known for years, that's sort of how Yutu acts. He's a big puppy who pretends not to know his own strength. Unless your his parent, he fears no man, but Yuu's wrath? That scares him.

He's similar to Floyd in school performance, he doesn't like to pay attention so he doesn't always do well. He didn't have a choice about paying attention to magic classes though, among all the different versions of Yutu, Floyd! Yutu might be one of the most cracked when it comes to combat magic. If you were to ask him about it, he'd say he sees his skill as another way of being helpful, but that prey drive is no joke he does like a good fight. Just not when that fight is against his dad...

He has always loved the water, whether he was swimming or out playing in the rain he always felt most at home in the water. In your world he was on his school's swim team, and while Yutu gets why he isn't allowed to be on NRC's he is still a bit salty about it. On the one hand he gets to actually live in the water now. On the other he sort of needs to find a hobby.

Maybe he could focus more on cooking? Or fishing? Or would that just be hunting under the sea...

The oceans of Twisted Wonderland were never safe, but in the time that Yutu arrived in they had become borderline unlivable due to blot pollution. Yutu really loved being in Octavinelle for allowing him to experience a little slice of what the Coral Sea was supposed to have been like. The version of the dorm he was placed in didn't have the lounge anymore, so he is very curious about Azul's business.

Papa (Floyd) Leech isn't very impressed. On the one hand he thinks it is kind of funny watching the shrimplet run around campus following Yuu like he's convinced they're going to disappear. Floyd feels like that sometimes too, it makes him want to drown you in his embrace and keep you here forever but he tries to ignore those feelings most of the time.

On the other hand knowing he can't just drop by Ramshackle and have you all to himself anymore makes it really hard to ignore them. Shrimplet doesn't even have the sense to be afraid of him, Floyd swears he gets excited when he threatens to give him a squeeze. And what's worse is you are really protective of him! Sure you're protective of Baby Seal too, but he's got enough sense to piss off when Floyd glares at him. He does leave when Floyd threatens to fight him, but not because he's scared. He looked sad actually, which Floyd clocks and brings back to Jade and Azul.

You asked another question about what happened to the boys in the bad future, and I want to save most of my thoughts related to what happened to Floyd for that answer, but Jade was still alive when Yutu got isekaid and he was able to meet him. They had a really good relationship, so when Jade comes sniffing around for information, Yutu is able to dodge his questions pretty easily. Future! Jade actually used his signature spell on him before he traveled back in time just to fuck with his past self. He did make his nephew promise to tell him if the one use rule applied to this case. Partially for science, partially because he knew that it would give his younger self the chance to keep the information to himself.

And keep it to himself he does- sort of. He makes sure Yutu knows he knows, but he never explicitly says anything to him. No what he wants to do is distract Yutu so Floyd can be a sulky coward in peace. That he does make clear to Yutu, he would like his brother to have more than one kid for him to be a bad influence on and he needs him to actually make a move on Yuu for that to happen.

I am not 100% on how the reveal on how Floyd learns about what's happening and who Yutu is, but once he does he is very serious about it. He wants to know what Yutu thought about him, why he knows more about Jade then his dear old dad, and what happened to Yuu to make him so protective. Wasn't he there at all? He'd never abandon his mate or his son... little shrimplet knows that, right?

Well he's just going to have to make sure he does know that. And everyone else too, "these single fucks can cry about it" indeed. Yutu is getting dragged to the Atlantica Memorial Museum so they can swim and talk about Azul's overblot, and how cute his parent was for standing up to him. He still wants to spend time alone with Yuu sometimes, but he gets why Yutu is afraid of letting them out of his sight now. He would feel the same way. If Floyd can manage it he wants to take him back home too (not to introduce him to the grandparents since that would just raise questions), since Yutu never got to go there.

Floyd would be such a good dad. An embarrassing one too, you know he teases Yutu, roughhouses with him, and openly flirts with Yuu in front of him. He's really looking forward to getting to be embarrassingly in love with Yuu in the future, and no silly "end of the world" thing is going to stop him.

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #floyd leech x reader #floyd leech x yuu #future kid au

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professional-yapper · 5 months

Text

Attention

Aonung x Omaticaya! Reader

Summary: Aonung doesn't understand why you won't pay him any attention

Warnings: Aonung, reader's kind of mean if you squint, favouritism towards Rotxo (not a warning more of a given), mention of Aonung getting threatened and punched, reader being violent, Aonung being delusional and irrational and entitled, Aonung getting the fuck bit out of him, hes in the wars today, penis in hole sex

"Forest brat!"

You groan internally, gritting your teeth, not looking up from the top you're making for yourself. Aonung. Probably coming to harass your sibling again, like he didn't learn his lesson the first time.

The memory of his stunned face after you punched him square in the nose warms your heart.

He should've known better. Right from the get-go, you made it clear you weren't going to tolerate any shit from him.

And yet here he was, somewhere behind you, calling you forest brat like you hadn't threatened to carve your name into his chest so his family would know who killed him.

"That's not my name, fish boy," you reply serenely, not turning around, threading another pearl onto your top. "What are you doing here, anyway? Did your daddy make you come apologise for being a jerk?"

"Maybe I'd actually apologise if you weren't so mean to me," Aonung pointed out, sitting down beside you with a bump and stretching out in the sand like he owned the place. Well... you guessed he kind of did. Or his parents did, anyway.

"Oh, I'm sorry," you drawled sarcastically, keeping your eyes on your work. "Maybe I wouldn't be mean to you if you hadn't bullied my siblings and I from the day we set foot on this stupid reef."

"I don't bully you," he countered.

"Because you're scared of me."

"No, I am not!"

"Aren't you?" you asked, glancing at him, mouth curving into a sharp smile.

"Shut up," he huffed, rolling onto his back and covering his face.

A few minutes passed, the only sound being the clink of the pearls against each other as your top formed slowly under your patient hands and the sigh of the sea.

"What's that?" Aonung began, right as you said, "So why are you here?"

You stared at each other for a moment before you rolled your eyes. "I'll go first. Why are you here if not to apologise, Aonung?"

"Bored."

"Oh, I didn't realise my only purpose in life was to entertain you."

"Would it kill you to be nicer to me?" he whined. "You're nice to Rotxo."

"Rotxo doesn't harass my siblings because they don't look like he thinks they should."

Aonung gives you a look, and you relent with a sigh, recalling how Rotxo had been the first to point out your tails. "Well, he realised the error of his ways, anyhow. You haven't." You poked his forehead for good measure.

He caught your hand in his, looking up at you with something of a smirk, like he enjoyed getting under your skin. "If I did realise the error of my ways?..."

You ignore how warmth sparks in your chest at his touch. "I still wouldn't give you the time of day. You're not appealing to me as a person, regardless of whether you're a bully or not," you reply calmly.

He groans and lets his head flop back on the sand, letting go of your hand. "You're killing me, forest brat."

"One can only hope. And why are you so desperate to be around me, anyway?"

"I'm not. I said I was bored, and you never pay me any attention."

"Oh," you grin, glancing down at him, poking him in the ribs. "You're jealous of Rotxo."

"Not just him," Aonung corrected but didn't deny it.

A flush began in your cheeks at how shamelessly open he was with you. You knew your siblings thought Aonung was whipped for you and that was the only reason he'd stopped bullying them, though you still thought he would at the drop of a hat, and even Rotxo and Tsireya had implied Aonung had a thing for you.

And here he was, lying in the sand close to you, whining that you didn't pay him enough attention. Unbelievable.

"You're so incredibly entitled, Aonung," you said severely. "Where do you get the nerve to even talk to me?"

Aonung's mouth curved into a lopsided grin. "Comes naturally."

You rolled your eyes. "So why is my attention so valuable to you?"

Aonung shifted, looking deliberately anywhere but at you. "I said it's not. I'm just bored."

"Can't you bother Rotxo or any of your dumb friends?"

"I wanna be here with you."

You blinked at the bold statement, staring at his face for any signs of insincerity. "What an odd thing to say," you managed finally, your heart rate picking up the longer you gazed at him.

"Is it?" he hummed, rolling onto his side, resting his chin in his hand as he looked up at you, ears angled forward playfully. Then his eyes strayed to the half-made top in your lap. "That's pretty. You'll have to model it for me when you're finished," he said lazily, touching it lightly with his fingertips.

You sucked in a breath, turning your flushed face away as his fingertips grazed your thigh. Accidentally, surely. "Not fucking likely. I still hate your guts."

"Yeah?" he mused, eyes focused on the top. "I like that."

"Great Mother," you cursed, pushing his head away. "Quit acting like that."

"Like what?" he said, looking rather pleased with himself, tail wagging a little across the sand behind him.

"Like you're drunk," you scoff at him, rolling yourself away. Trying to, at least.

He's fast for someone who's been acting drunk for the past few minutes. He rolls with you and then he's on top of you, pressing you back into the sand, forearms either side of your head and knee nudging between your thighs. "I'm stone cold sober," he chuckled in your face, eyes flashing, fangs curving over his bottom lip as he smiled.

For once, you have nothing to say, staring up at him, chest heaving and slick pooling between your thighs even as you try to ignore it.

"You look good beneath me," he commented, gazing down at you. "Should be like this more often."

"Aonung," you breathe, hating how wobbly and desperate your voice sounds. "What are you-"

"This," he cut you off. "This is what I'm doing." His mouth presses against yours, tongue sliding between your lips- lips that are slack with surprise, though not entirely opposed to your current situation, given the heat building in your stomach.

You moan, arms sliding around his neck, arching into him as he licks into your mouth, practically devouring you like a starving man. "So fuckin' beautiful," he sighed, nipping at your bottom lip playfully.

"Shut up," you hissed bashfully, turning your face away.

"Oh, yeah, now you're getting defensive?" he teased, pressing his knee against your loincloth. "Think I can't feel how wet you are for me? Soaking right through your loincloth just from a little kissing." He laughed a little then pressed a warm kiss to the corner of your mouth, looking at you with an expression that makes your stomach twist. "Still hate me now?"

"Decidedly," you sigh, pressing up against him as he slides an arm around the back of your shoulders, holding you against him as he begins to lay wet kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

"Oh, yeah, I believe that," he murmured, grazing his fangs along your collarbone as you whined. "Come on, beautiful, give it a rest."

"Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"You not fighting me every step of the way and letting me fuck you like we both want?" he grunted, shifting himself to pull off your loincloth and his. "I think that'd be great."

"Tough-" you began, then choked on air as his stiff cock nudged at your hole, making your hips buck up into him.

He hissed at the contact, pressing his face to your neck and holding himself still for a painfully long moment, both of you shivering.

You couldn't believe this.

You were mere seconds away from getting absolutely rawed on the beach by the Metkayina prince. Out in the open, where anyone could see. And you didn't even care, which was probably the worst part. Or maybe the worst part was that you wanted him so fucking bad, even if he was a bully and a dick and a great big whiny baby to boot.

Then he pulled back a little, looking at you intently, tracing your face with his fingers in a gesture that was so tender it hurt. "You want this?" he breathed.

"Yes," you replied raggedly, and slowly, painfully slowly, he slid into you, one hand tracing down the back of your leg to hook it over his hip, allowing him to reach a depth inside you that made you see stars.

You whined, throwing away your dignity in favour of pleasure.

"Fuck," he grunted against your jaw, rubbing his cheek against yours- scenting you, you realised, and the realisation that he was fucking claiming you made you lock your leg tighter around him without thinking, arching into him impossibly, trying to bury him so deep inside you he wouldn't be able to pull out. "Fuck, you're so good, so tight, fuck-"

"Aonung," you whimpered, ignoring how pathetic that sounded as your nails gouged red lines into the backs of his shoulders.

"You markin' me up?" he huffed, pulling back slowly before beginning to thrust, long, slow, deep strokes that punched the air from your lungs and reached every sweet spot inside you and then some. "Want everyone to know, huh?"

"Shut up," you whined, throwing your head back.

"Shut me up," was his only response before he took matters into his own hands and kissed you again, slower this time, gentler. "Great Mother, you're so good, gonna make me come already-"

He took his time, despite your best efforts to get him to fuck you harder, fucking into you slow and sweet, bringing you towards an orgasm as slowly as he could, kissing along your shoulders and collarbones, holding you so tight your body was practically molded to his.

"Ao- Aonung-" you choked, clutching at him as the familiar sensation approached. "I'm go- I'm gonna come, fuck-" Your legs locked around his hips, making it near impossible for him to thrust, but he managed.

"Yeah, me too, beautiful, I got you-" he gasped against your throat, hips stuttering against yours, cock pulsing inside of you almost painfully.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you moaned shrilly, fangs glancing at his shoulder before you sunk them in properly, vision whiting out as you came the hardest you've ever come in your fucking life.

"Oh, fuck," Aonung whimpered, thrusting one last time and burying himself as deep inside you as he could, head falling limp against yours as you clenched around him, his seed coating your walls in pulses.

You both remained in that position for a long while, until your post-sex-hazy brain cleared enough to register the taste of blood on your tongue, and the warm blood trickling down your chin.

You immediately released him, jerking your head backwards, body stiffening in fright. "Shit, Ao-"

Aonung just whined at the loss and the way you clenched around him anew, still entirely lost in pleasure. "Quit moving, I can't come again, I'll die," he groaned against you.

"No, idiot," you said, touching his shoulder tentatively. He hissed as your fingers came into contact with the savage bite, ears flattening. "Your shoulder."

Aonung, grizzling and whining like a little kid, twisted his head to try and see. "'S hot," he concluded, shrugging and trying to kiss you, the movement making his cock twitch inside you again.

"It could get infected!" you insisted, holding back a moan.

"Oh, shut up about it and let me hold what's mine" he grunted, shifting backwards, slipping out of you, then flopping down on the sand on his back and pulling you down with him, tucking you into his side.

"Oh, I'm yours now?" you said, immediately distracted, trying not to smile like an idiot.

He squinted at you. "You reek of me and currently have my come so deep inside of you it's practically in your guts. Yeah, I think you're mine."

"Fuck, you're vulgar," you sighed, curling into him and resting your head on his chest.

"You'll live."

This was not meant to be a smut like at all @wjehfshs heres more dumb himbo Aonung I hope it's ok 😭

#aonung #aonung x reader #aonung avatar #aonung atwow #rotxo #rotxo atwow #avatar x reader #atwow x reader #avatar

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kimetsu-chan · 1 month

Text

~can’t sleep headcanons~

A/N: I’ve been sleeping crappy the past three nights and tn I extra doubly can’t sleep, so ofc I’m writing this at 4 am 🤩 (I apologize in advance for any mistakes made—)

Characters: Akutagawa, Fyodor, Dazai, Ranpo

TWs ⚠️ reader cries, bc I cried(Fyodor, Dazai), Nicknames (Myshka)(Fyodor) (Belladonna, Donna)(Dazai), GN!Reader

Man, being tired is rough—

Akutagawa Ryūnosuke

Akutagawa most likely wouldn’t notice right away

whether that be because he is asleep, out of the house, or just busy in general

but he would come home one day to you laying face down on your shared bed, spread out like a star fish

he’d raise an eyebrow at you before checking if you were awake

once he confirmed that you were, he would question why you were up so late

and in your tired state, you would unintentionally retort back with unusual hostility in your tone

“[Name], why is it that you are awake at two in the morning.”

“Why are you just coming home from work at two in the morning.”

His mouth would instantly shut, not used to your annoyance

you would almost immediately apologize with a distraught expression on your face and he would immediately understand

seeing the reason for your stress, he quickly dismissed your earlier words

he would be quick in showering himself before slipping into bed with you and wrapping his arms around you

he didn’t really like physically affection often, he had a tough guy facade to hold up. But he guessed he could make an exception for you

Fyodor Dostoevsky

This man doesn’t sleep much either, so he doesn’t bother scolding you for it

he is likely the only one to actually be helpful about it

he would be working away at his desk in your guys’ room, and he would hear the rustling of sheets behind him

he would turn in his chair to look back at you with a blank expression

Fyodor had heard your struggles to sleep during previous nights, but tonight, you finally seemed to have had enough

he got up when he heard you angrily adjust your pillow, and made his way to the bedside before crouching down beside you

he saw the angry expression you bore on your face and blew on your face to wake you up

your teary eyes opened to glare at him and he realized just how frustrated you were

he reached out to wipe those tears before they could fall as he spoke in a quiet voice

”Now, now, Myshka, what’s with the tears?”

“‘m s’tired… but I can’t sleep no matter how hard I try-!”

Fyodor would hum in understanding, you were just exhausted

he stood back up all the way and figured he had some time to spare

he pulled you up and made his way to the kitchen with you tiredly clinging to his arm

”Let’s have a glass of milk, that should help.”

Dazai Osamu

He’s probably dead asleep beside you, and therefore won’t be of much help

there is also a good chance that he is the reason for your lack of sleep

this man will be sprawled all over you. And I mean all over you

he would have one leg thrown over yours, he would have his arm(s) wrapped around you in some way

he just has to be touching you

he also moves around a lot

which you normally don’t mind, but adding that to already not being able to sleep, geez you were frustrated

dont get me wrong, he is perfectly capable of being still and to himself in his sleep

he just doesn’t want to-

he can’t help wanting to be in constant contact with his precious Belladonna all night

but when you nudge him awake with tears ready to fall from your eyes, he instantly throws his wants out the window

he’d frown and wipe your tears away before asking what was wrong

“Oh ‘Donna— why are you crying?”

“I can’t- sleep, and you’re movin’ around s’much and it’s not helping..”

You didn’t mean to make it sound like it was his fault (even though it kinda was-)

but I’m your exhausted state, you couldn’t control it

instantly filled him as he pressed a kiss to your forehead

“I’m sorry ‘Donna… I’ll be still, I promise”

Ranpo Edogawa

Just like Dazai, he is likely the reason you cannot sleep in the first place

I headcanon that he is also a super restless sleeper in the sense that he moves a whole bunch

and maybe even kicks

so imagine you’re tired, and almost falling off the bed because he is taking all the space

deciding that you had enough, you grabbed your pillow and a spare blanket and trudged over towards the couch before plopping your tired self right down on it

you closed your eyes with a huff when you tucked yourself in, and began to drift off when you felt a weight on you

you opened your eyes to see Ranpo looking down at you

there was concern in his eyes, despite the unserious-ness of his statement

”[Name]? Why’d you leave? The world’s best detective needs his cuddle buddy.”

You quickly explained the reason of his absence and he nodded

you waited for a few seconds for him to leave, but he just stayed on top of you and made himself comfortable

“I guess I’ll just sleep on top of you then!”

His weight was actually kinda nice, and he was making an effort to be as still as possible

you eventually were pulled to sleep with the sound of your lover’s soft breathing in your ears

A/N: these were fun to write 🥰

but they took an hour—

n e ways

it is now almost five in the morning so I might as well just be up for the rest of the day 😃

Reblogs with tags are appreciated!

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zuyoo · 2 months

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linger, one-shot. ﹙ nagi & gn!reader ﹚ 비애

CONTENT WARNING — clueless nagi, (open-ended) angst, misleading actions, images used are not face claims but rather used as a reference to visualize a scenario. enjoy reading !!!! :D

SYNOPSIS — you’re in love with your best friend, nagi seishiro, who is oblivious of your feelings but treats you well more than just a friend

ZUYOO’S NOTES — noOOoO 10 images limit on tumblr mobile app ( ꒦ິ ཀ ꒦ິ ) word count is probably a little over 1000 if not more than that.. ok ily enjoy reading MWAAA

p.s. i love u, everyone who leaves feedback and/or reactions with all my life :DD it just makes me feel so motivated in writing, thank you all sm!!

it started with one message, which lead to another… then another… then more. you two instantly clicked right after being attending the same club in your university. you’ve seen him before, and thought that he looked hard to approach—since he’s always on his phone, barely talks, and is always either practicing, in class, or out of reach (in his dorm)

you two grew close after talking about similar interests, and it didn’t take too long for you to develop feelings for him. i mean… how could you not when he has treated you way better than any other man who’s walked out of you life?

he messages you on a daily basis, doesn’t hesitate to come over and take care of you when you tell him that you aren’t feeling well, treats you to meals, drives you home, tries new hobbies because you told him you like those.

nagi has the looks, the talent, the brain, the skill, the body that a girl could ask for. you’re simply lucky enough to be near his presence—and oh boy how all the girls that see you two together makes you feel it.

their glares and side glances sharp as a knife, it gave you goosebumps all over. but you eventually paid no mind to their stares, the only thing that mattered at the moment is how you’d spend your day with nagi!

it’s been three years since your first interaction with him, and you two haven’t changed a thing. take it with a grain of salt. yes, you two still treat each other the same way, and no, he is not your anything—just a friend.

he’s such a fish to catch that you’re surprised why he’s still not seeing anyone at this point. maybe there was some point that you’ve thought about how there could be possibility that he could like you the way you like him, which is stopping him from seeing anyone else.

or maybe his actions has raised your hopes up and made you delusional. how could you know? you’ve been friends for three whole years now, yet you still can’t read him.

he left you on delivered? that’s new. well- it was bound to happen. it’s not like he’s obligated to reply or at least leave a reaction… right? right. you’re his best friend. nothing more, nothing less.

but what could he be doing? it’s a sunday. he doesn’t have practice, and the term just started. he couldn’t have had any assessments he needed to finish.

your questions were quickly answered once you’ve opened up your twitter app and found someone unfamiliar in your timeline.

“pfft—this happens all the time.” you say. “and they’re always fake.”

and how you wished you were right.

“oh.” was everything you could let out, as if that one tweet didn’t break your heart into pieces. you were glad he’s finally seeing someone—but at the same time, you had hoped that it was just a misunderstanding, that he’s actually maggy’s cousin… or something! just not her suitor. even though the signs are as clear as day.

it was petty, and this- this will hurt you, and it’ll hurt bad. so you had no other choice but to try and distance yourself away from him as much as possible, to save yourself and to respect who he’s been seeing. it was for the better… but—he was making it hard.

nagi’s completely clueless!

you didn’t know whether to laugh it out because of how oblivious he is. does he not realize what he’s doing to you?

at this point, you start to realize how none of it was your fault in the first place. you couldn’t control you feelings, and it certainly didn’t help that nagi treats you way too well.

even so, you could never blame him. it could just be in his nature, to be kind, lovable, and to be the pinnacle of a girl’s dream. and you were the one at fault because you’re taking advantage of his kindness to satisfy your curiosity regarding what it felt like being handled with genuine care, only for it to backfire—seeing that you actually fell for him big time.

still, that wasn’t your first train of thought when you met him. you genuinely wanted to be friends because he seemed like a cool guy. it just so happens that your heart begun to agitate more and more everyday when you’re with him.

or maybe it was maggy’s fau—oh my god, make up your mind, yn!!

“let’s not put the blame on everyone. whatever happened, happened. none of it matters now. i just have to get myself out of this mess… then i’ll be back to same, old me. right.” you thought to yourself.

you have been ignoring nagi for the past three days, leaving him on delivered, and practically scrambling away when you see him in the hallways—or everywhere, actually.

did you tell him why you’re doing this? no, why would you?

does he care? a lot, as a friend, most likely.

he’s been trying to reach you for the past 3 days, while you were off running everywhere but to the places you and nagi went to together, which is hard because you’ve both been to every cafe, every movie theater, every arcade, every mall your city could offer.

there was this one place you two haven’t been in yet. it was perfect for admiring the view below, or simply a place to just clear your mind.

you planned on going there after classes were over, and it made you quite excited. you were supposed to go here with nagi but… you know, things happened. nonetheless, you wanted to enjoy this, even if it meant not being able to bring nagi with you.

after class ended, you bid your farewell to your friends before getting into a cab and going to the rooftop lounge that recently just opened.

you opened the door that leads to the lounge and was surprised by what greeted you at the door.

it was nagi, with maggy. their hands intertwined as they admire the city.

ouch. seeing them like that felt like ten thousand trains running me over.

you were about to leave when you heard her call for your name. you froze on the spot, a course of thoughts ran through your brain on whether to run for it, or play a good face and not ignore her calls.

“y/n! come join us.”

you made the decision to turn around and approach them instead… she waved and smiled at you. god—how can you make such a lovely woman?!

it was too late to run anyways, you felt their eyes on you when you froze by the door, it would be far too embarrassing to just leave with them knowing that you heard maggy call for you.

“hey, i couldn’t reach you.”

nagi greeted. you briefly glanced into his eyes and gave him a smile before breaking eye contact. you could barely look into his eyes—you might burst out crying if you stare any longer.

“i was busy.”

you replied, dryly. you really were busy; busy with assessments, busy distracting yourself from your feelings, busy doing whatever it takes to forget about nagi… but if you two keep meeting like this—and if he keeps trying to talk to you, it will pose a challenge for you to fully move on.

why do you have to let it linger? you ask him in your mind as if he could read it. his constant concern for your wellbeing, his actions towards you, his daily messages checking up on whether you’ve eaten your meals yet—why does he have to let your feelings for him linger?

unknowingly, sure. but has he have not a single clue on why you’ve been distancing yourself? on why you haven’t been hanging around much?

you missed him, really. but this was the perfect distance for you both. he can keep reaching out until the day he gets sick of it; but as much as you want to respond to him, you can’t—you shouldn’t.

the following months were practically the hell. you’ve completely cut off contact with him (you ghosted him, basically) and was buried in a never-ending cycle of homework and projects, leaving no time for anything else.

when the semester ended, your friend, bachira, invited you to his party. he noticed that you were completely restless and said that you needed to loosen up a little.

it was 12 in the evening but the party has just begun—you could consider yourself a fan of staying at home in my comfy pajamas and old indie movies, rather than a party ‘til sunrise & drink ‘til you drop type of person… which lead you to excusing yourself out of the room with flashing lights and booming music to find somewhere else more peaceful to drink.

you found yourself on a huge balcony with a red cup on your hand. thank the gods that the doors muffles out the noise coming from the inside.

this was just right. and honestly what you needed. all that workload from the past few weeks has been killing you.

what you didn’t expect was for someone to break the silence you gave yourself.

“it was about time i saw you again. and out of all the places i thought i would see you in, a party was not one of them.”

nagi spoke nonchalantly. his sudden interjection jolted you out of your own thoughts. it’s been about six months since you’ve broke off contact with him. hell, you could barely remember his voice.

“oh fuc-… ah. i’m sorry- i should find another place.”

“no. stay. you owe me an explanation.”

maybe it was just you, but given where this conversation is headed… he sounded intimidating. his voice didn’t change much, perhaps it didn’t change at all, but you heard the sharpness of his words and felt the need to comply to whatever he says.

“sorry.”

“sorry doesn’t cut it, y’know?”

he lightly chuckled before mixing his drink around his own red cup that he brought.

“right… sorry. but, how are you? how’s maggy?”

“ah. it didn’t work out. she’s nice but it really isn’t working out for us.”

“oh. sorry.”

that was a surprise. you thought they’d still be all lovey-dovey with each other. maggy is a lovely girl, what could’ve gotten wrong?

“another apology and i’ll keep bothering you. you wouldn’t like that won’t you? considering how you’ve completely ghosted me for 6 months without an explanation or even a subtle hint of why you did it? right?”

“hey-!”

okay… maybe he hasn’t changed that much. he still holds his grudges. nagi broke eye contact and looked up to the moon with this… yearning look on his face—he looked so pretty, it was pathetic!!

a sigh left your lips before nervously starting to explain you side, since you felt like he really needed to know why. plus, it was a good chance to let go of that burden.

maybe a confession was nagi’s needed closure, and your way of letting go of the guilt of knowing you’ve randomly disappeared in his life without him even knowing anything.

“i like… liked. you, nagi. more than a friend should’ve.”

“what?”

his actions came to a halt. oh, he was THAT clueless

“aha—yeah… but then there came maggy. she was such a lovely person, and i know you deserved to be loved like that. i should’ve been happy for you, but i really couldn’t bring myself to. it hurts seeing my best friend whom i’ve liked for the longest time smile because of a person they’re romantically involved with, y’know?”

you weren’t able to find the strength to look at him as you explained, but it felt like a weight was lifted off of your shoulders after.

“i-”

“no, don’t say anything. i just really needed to let that out… for your sake, and mine. i also wanted to thank you. y’know—for everything. you’ve been a great best friend, nagi.”

“okay but-”

he didn’t get to say whatever he wanted to say because the door that leads to the party suddenly opened, revealing a tipsy bachira.

“y/n!! here you are~ and nagi too!!”

bachira gleefully said before dragging y/n back inside, leaving nagi alone in the balcony.

he watched your figure get lost in the crowd of people partying without end, saying:

“ah-… i liked you…too?”

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