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#really think about if someone else would like to see it?
tofixtheshadows · 2 days
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You guys really need to stop and consider the ways you're talking about Kabru I am dead fucking serious. Like I know that flattening characters is just what fandom does to a certain extent, but Kabru's actual personality is getting lost to the fandom hivemind insisting that he's aggressive/cruel/sociopathic/hateful, and these are particularly concerning takes to see leveled at the only brown character in the main cast day after day. "My poor sweet golden child Laios needs to be protected from this scary brown man" is not a good look! Like, it's very telling that the bulk of the hate and bad faith readings are reserved for Toshiro and Kabru. Everyone else's flaws get to be discussed and validated and forgiven (or erased), meanwhile people are straight making up things to be mad about with Toshiro and Kabru but patting themselves on the back for being smart.
The worst part is how undeserved it all is. I'm trying to lay off anime-onlys because we're still kind of in the red herring stage of getting to know Kabru, but I would still like to gently suggest that even if you think Kabru is up to something, you don't gave to get in the tags of every fan creator's post and bring up how you hate him or You Can Tell he's totally evil. Sometimes I think Kabru's blue eyes give people license to say things about his appearance that they know would sound completely racist otherwise, but referring to his blue eyes acts as a get-out-of-racism free card. The jokes about the dog with brown contacts are getting old, by the way.
For people who have read the manga, it's disappointing. Kabru is one of the most complex and important characters in the story, and if you base your interpretation of him and all your fandom interactions on shallow first impressions you are completely missing out.
I know part of this is because Dungeon Meshi is a comedy, but the story also wants to be taken seriously. For example, it's admittedly really funny when Chilchuck calls Laios "sick in the head", but that doesn't change the fact that the way Chilchuck casually belittles Laios caused him to hide the fact that he was "hallucinating" from his friends for weeks. Those feelings matter.
Like, this
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is funny.
But this?
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Is not. This is just a very clear example of a brown boy with PTSD. As someone else with PTSD, just looking at this fucking sucks, man.
The only reason why Kabru thinks about killing Laios is because he is in the middle of a flashback. He's struggling through a panic attack. If he truly wanted to kill Laios because he's violent or because he finds Laios inherently annoying, he wouldn't otherwise talk with Laios normally. Notice how he doesn't act this way at any other point in the story- it's just because he's triggered by monsters. Even when he's thinking about his plans to "deal with" Laios later, he's reluctant to actually kill him and only considers it to prevent another tragedy. Despite his deadly skills, Kabru relies far more on "soft" power- insight, persuasion, diplomacy. He's a rare example of a character who absolutely is, or at least can be, manipulative, but seems to use his abilities for good. He's not a pathological liar, he isn't looking down on everyone behind a smile. He's someone who is extremely emotionally intelligent, and he's willing to put aside all his own basic wants and needs to stop the cycle of dungeons devouring humans.
I'm going to cut a potential thesis on his character short and just give some examples of things that fandom should consider about his personality more:
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Racism in fandom isn't just about whitewashing in fan art, or using racial slurs. The insidiousness of bad faith readings, reductions to racist tropes, lack of fan content for characters of color, and dismissal of a character's complexity are far more common. You can believe yourself to be completely neutral or even positive about a character and still churn out low-grade bile about them into fandom's collective unconscious. Fandom reflects real life.
And I have been around fandom long enough to see how these behaviors (mostly from my fellow white fans) affect fans of color, how it makes a fandom feel hostile and unwelcome to them. It's fun to make jokes and memes, I'm absolutely not saying that everything needs to be a deeply nuanced take, but we need to be careful that it doesn't veer into toxicity. Please think about how our contributions to fandom come across, and what sort of vibes they cultivate in this communal space.
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finniestoncrane · 3 days
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Virginal vault dweller reader you say?? I'd eat that up (and so would Cooper, heh) but seriously I would read the hell out of that if you're up for it <3
Different Up Here
Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 6.3k anon thank you lmao i had already started drafting this, so vault dweller reader isn't quite a virgin but they are definitely inexperienced and have never known pleasure like the kind that cooper can offer 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: power imbalance, dubious consent because once you've said yes to cooper you can't change your mind, overstimulation, crying, oral sex, fingering, rimming, instructional, full penetration babiessss i realised i never tag that shit but yeah it's in here lmao, cumming inside, no protection, sweet coop afterwards but only briefly
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If anyone else had asked you in that moment how you were, you couldn't have answered accurately without any hint of sarcasm and irritation. You were being worn down, like buildings by the sands of the desert. Each little molecule of your optimism being torn away from you, painful like plucking a hair. But when Cooper asked you, you tried your best to push down your knee jerk response.
"Let's see, shall we? Since leaving the vault a month ago, bravely in search of resources and supplies for my friends, I have killed, maimed, and eaten things I hope to never think of again. I'm in a constant cycle of very, very stressed and then very, very bored where there is no happy medium between fearing for my life and wishing for death. And oh, by the way, I'm sweating buckets the whole time because it's deathly fucking warm. Thank you for asking, Cooper!"
Instead, you shrugged and offered him at least a partial truth.
"It sounds silly... but I'm kind of bored."
A dry chuckle passed over Cooper's lips.
"Heh, that's a new one for out here."
Sensing an opportunity to at least get some conversation out of him, you sat up on the rusty bed frame, your body sinking into the almost entirely flattened mattress as you crossed your legs and did your best to get Cooper to talk more than a sentence at a time.
"Really? I would have thought you'd be bored a lot, especially when there's no raiders, or mirelurks, or scavengers, or feral ghouls, or super mutants, or roving gangs of-"
"See, this is why I'm never bored. Always somethin' or someone to be killin'."
"But what about like... now? When there's nothing else to do. There's no magazines, no books, no TV."
You watched as Cooper turned from you with a slight smile. You knew the one, the familiar grin that meant you'd divulged some information about your life in the vaults, something he always found so amusing. It was your naivety, your optimism. He was endlessly fascinated by it, as though listening to you talk about it reminded him of something he had before.
That fascinated you. It made you want to stay around him, the way he listened silently as you talked about the old films that were on the holotapes, the food that was still fresh and available, the music you could hear whenever you wanted to, not reliant on some two-bit radio host. He paid attention to you. And any time his deep, brown eyes focused on your lips it made your heart flutter in an admittedly unexpected manner.
Remembering that feeling, you tried again, hoping that your next approach might be something that interested him a little more than just conversation.
"You know how we used to pass time in the vaults?"
Over the sound of the evening breezes that whipped up the sand you could still hear Cooper sigh before he spoke.
"Now if you tell me that you wanna go out there again tonight to find an old blast radius board... well I am just going to have to shoot you."
You laughed at what you hoped was a joke and waved him off, despite the fact that he was still turned away from you, unable to see your gesture as he tried ignoring you in what you assumed was the hope that you might shut up and leave him alone.
"No, no no no no no. Just..."
The lump in your throat felt like it was about to choke you, so you swallowed the clump of nerves quietly, your voice trembling as you finished your sentence.
"... fooling around... y'know?"
Cooper turned to face you. You had piqued his interest, and you couldn't help but show the giddy glee on your face, the smallest smile crossing your lips as your eyes widened. But his words wiped away all hope that you had garnered in that short span of time.
"Oh... oh darlin'."
He laughed a little, each little sound of the short, sharp giggle like a slap to the face.
"I don't think you're ready for that at all."
You raised an eyebrow, defiant, irritated, and keen to know how he thought he had you pegged so quickly. You'd never talked about anything like that with him before. Was he assuming that you were a virgin based on how you behaved around him alone? Maybe he figured that the lack of flirting on your part was down to a complete lack of experience, when in reality, it was because every flirtatious quip he threw your way made you so nervous and flustered you felt like you might throw up.
"How come I'm not ready? I mean, I've... I've done stuff... I've done it!"
"The fat you're not saying it how it is makes me think that you are absolut-"
"I've had sex, Cooper. I've fucked before. I've been fucked."
Blinking off the irritation at being interrupted by you, Cooper pushed up the brim of his hat and stared directly at you, as though he was examining your, to see if you would stand up for yourself any further.
"By who? One of your little buddies underground? Fucking like little bunnies? I don't think that qualifies you, sweetheart."
"Why? Sex is sex..."
You said it with such confidence. As if you really knew. As if you hadn't spent your teenage years practising on your hand, holding a pillow close, lining up for that one girl in the vault who would sell practice kisses for extra bubble-gum. You'd had sex before, of course. You weren't a liar. Just because you'd only ever done it once didn't render it nonfactual. Just because it had only lasted for all of four minutes. Just because you weren't sure you even orgasmed, and your friend had told you that you'd know if you'd orgasmed. Just because it was all over so quickly, and he'd run off before anyone could catch you both, avoiding you at every opportunity after that.
"... Isn't it?"
"Oh no it ain't. Besides, like I keep telling you, it's different up here. Everything's different up here. And that includes fuckin'."
The way he said the word, consonants enunciated with such grit and vigour, filled your stomach with knots that began to tighten as you considered in what way things were so different.
"What exactly do you mean by that?"
Cooper sighed, exasperated, resigning himself to the fact that you were going to keep talking to him regardless of his short replies and attempts to end the conversation.
"You are a dog with a bone, huh? Ain't gonna let it go."
His yellowed teeth were exposed as his lips pulled back in a baring, mischievous smile. Those knots doubled, the ends being pulled by tension in your nervous system as Cooper's smirk put you into a dazed stupor.
"No, sir."
"Now, I don't remember signing on to be your personal tutor in all things apocalypse. Do I really need to show you how everything works up here?"
As your cheeks began to blush, you nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes, sir."
You were hopeful for just a bit of a distraction. Something to help take the stress away. To relieve the tension that had been building up between you and Cooper as of late. You'd been studying him, watching the way he looked at you, fascinated by your perceived, and frankly obvious, innocence. The way his fingers moved, contributing to the skilful way he handled his gun and his ropes. The confidence, the charisma, the charms.
You wanted him, but you weren't quite sure how to broach the situation without it seeming desperate. But you were past that now. You were desperate For anything, just something. Something to cure the monotony of walking and hiding and fighting and surviving. You didn't want to just survive. You wanted to at least find a semblance of fun and pleasure in this nightmare you had found yourself in. And in the vaults, when board games and books and debates got boring, there was always fucking. That was what you desired most right now. The fact that Cooper happened to be the closest target for your desires was just a sweet miracle, or a cruel tease depending on how willing he was.
And luckily, he seemed agreeable.
"Well then, how about you come over here and let ol' Coop show you a little thing or two about how dirty you can really get up here in the mean, dusty Wasteland, hm?"
Your excitement was palpable, even though you were trying to keep your composure. There was no escaping the echo of the giddy squeal you let out as you jumped up from the bed and made your way over to Cooper. He waited in the far corner of the room, setting himself down on an old armchair as you stepped towards him, slapping his thighs as an indication of where he wanted you. And you did as you were told, following his instructions, knowing they hadn't led you astray so far in your time together.
It felt awkward at first, being so close to him. You shifted your weight nervously, trying to get comfortable while making sure Cooper was still at ease, which of course, he was. He always was. Nothing stirred him, he was forever at peace. Competent in any situation. Quick to adapt. And as you fidgeted and fussed, you felt his strong hands pushing you forward on his lap, until your chests were practically pressed together, his hands skirting over your lower back as he held you still. In command. In control. The sudden sensation of his hands on your body made your breath hitch, a soft, surprised squeal on the inhale that had Cooper raising his brow at you.
"Now... you agree that you asked for this, alright? Because I am not going to put my effort into entertaining your little whims if you're gonna get fussy and decide it's too much for you. I did warn you."
"Yes, you did, and I really don't think you needed to. I doubt there's too much different about it, and I've picked up what I needed to know pretty quickly from your other lessons, haven't I?"
Your retaliation to his insistence that you needed him to teach you everything, and that some things just might prove themselves a little too hard even for your levels of enthusiasm, had irritated him when he'd first met you. But now your optimism and sheer refusal to believe anything was too much for you were a source of entertainment for him. A challenge.
"That's fine then, darlin'. But I'll remember that."
His eyes bore into your soul, keeping your focus on him as he dared you to look away. They sparkled as he ran his tongue over his lips, the pretence of preparing for his next words covering the obvious flirtation in the way he dragged the flat muscle along his chapped skin.
"So, gimme a benchmark here, lil lady. How much foreplay was involved in your previous encounters? I'd hate to leave you high and dry."
"Foreplay...? What... uh, what is that?"
Cooper sighed, rolling his eyes before closing his eyelids over gently.
"Well, it's something like this."
He pushed a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, rough fingers following the curve and grazing over your neck as he let them drift down the front of your chest, tickling the exposed skin as far as your jumpsuit would allow before he took a hold of the zip at the front. A quick flit of his eyes up to you seemed to ask for permission, and your small, almost imperceptible nod, told him to keep going.
Slowly, painfully so, he pulled the zip down, watching as the centre of your torso was slowly revealed to him. Smooth skin, in comparison to his anyway, clear of any unnatural blemishes or war wounds. One calloused digit followed down your sternum to your stomach and back up, hooking under the left side of the fabric and pulling it over, then the other, exposing the top half of your body to him.
Cooper traced his fingertips over the top of your breasts, watching as your chest moved in and out, slowly, but exaggeratedly. The knots in your stomach felt like they might burst with the tension as his sharp, ragged nails crossed over your hardening nipples, a gentle tingle coursing through your veins.
"Well?"
"No... n-nothing like that... just grabbing..."
"Oh yeah? You like that? How about this?"
He closed two fingers around your nipple, one hand still on your back to keep you balanced as your body reacted to his touch. Between the two digits, you felt your nipples heating up, the slight, burning pain from the way he squeezed them sending a signal down your spine that seemed to affect every part of you. Tighter, tighter, and then as your eyes closed a little more, eyelids pressed tight, he would ease up to offer some relief.
"You like that? Like it rough?"
"I think... I think I like both."
"So, something like this?"
He teased your nipples once more, pressing harder with his fingertips, pulling them out and jiggling your breasts as he tugged at them, this lewder act interspersed with a gentle caress as he held your breast against the palm of his hand, carefully cupping it as he flicked his thumb over the sensitive and completely erect nipple.
You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, Coop's hand moved swiftly from your body to your cheeks, popping the lip back out as he pressed his thumb and forefinger into your face. Understanding the message, and seemingly showing this in your wide-eyed gaze, he let his rough, leathery hand make its way back down to your breast, cupping it once more as he spoke.
"Different, see? Pleasure is hard to come by out here. You gotta do it right when you've got the chance."
Cooper leaned into your neck, whispering the words low and slowly, his dry, chapped lips skimming over your skin as he continued.
"I bet down there they didn't know the first thing about real pleasure. Takes time, something like that. You gotta learn the body, gotta make it feel good."
His teeth grazed over your shoulder and back up along your neck before he pulled back, watching your eyes refocus from the haze of arousal.
"Did they make you feel good?"
"No."
You were confident in that statement. It hadn't felt good. It felt rushed. Clumsy. Shameful. And as you pondered it, your mouth remained open in a slight pout which trembled as Cooper asked his next question.
"And what about your pretty lips... did they kiss them?"
"A little..."
Cooper leaned in, his rough lips pressing onto yours with firm contact, his tongue staying in place as though he imagined that might be a bit too much for you right now. But that same level of restraint didn't keep him from letting his teeth catch onto your bottom lip, pulling it out, only letting go when you winced in surprise as the suddenness of the action.
"Didn't bite them either. Of course not, what am I thinking? That would be a little too adventurous for your kind."
His face took on a darker tone as he smiled knowingly towards you.
“And what about these pretty lips?”
Before you could piece together the question, his hand was diving into your jumpsuit, pushing down the front and past the waist, stroking against the front of your underwear which, by now, was soaking wet with your arousal.
“They touch these lips, huh?”
You gasped as he pushed your underwear to the side, stroking his fingers along your slick, plump pussy lips, withdrawing them soon after to taste you on his tongue, the way you had watched him taste the blood of enemies, the blood of victims.
“Stand up, darlin’… Why don’t you take that suit off, hm? Get yourself comfy.”
As you raised yourself up from his hips, your legs wobbled under you, not quite steady enough to support you so soon after being reduced to jelly by Cooper’s touch, his caramelised words that filled your ears, the sharp twang of his accent, the delicate cadence, the power rumbling underneath like an almost silent bassline.
“Do it slowly though.”
Cooper watched carefully as you stood nervously before him, shuffling out of your suit, stripping for him, your hips moving from side to side slow and steady, unintentionally sultry in the way you moved. Without taking his eyes from you he reached for his canteen, taking a long sip from it as you let your suit fall down over your legs, stepping out of it and pushing it to the side with your feet.
“That’s it, darlin’. Can’t do this half-hearted. I need to have access to all of you there. Now come sit back down.”
You held your arms in front of you, feeling far too exposed for the shelter you’d found for the evening. No windows, no locks on the doors. But it was difficult to focus on that worry for too long as you watched Cooper’s tongue flit back out over his lips, clear strands of drool sparkling in the light as he took you in, hungrily, dreamily.
“Turn around though. You face that way.”
The metal buttons on the front of his duster coat were cold against the skin of your back, but you leaned into them anyway. Cooper’s hand curved around your neck and up under your chin, holding your face forward.
“You keep an eye out, holler if you see anything coming. I’ll do everything else.”
A faint clicking sound, the safety on his gun being flicked to off, before those same fingers draped over your mound and down on to your lips, spreading them apart, the cool air of the decrepit room cooling the heat of your hot, aching cunt. With two fingers holding your lips apart, he let the middle digit tap against your clit, each tiny sensation turning your blood cold before heating it exponentially, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow as you felt a tingle in your abdomen.
The finger that tapped the sensitive bud began stroking it from side to side, laying flat against it length wise as Cooper strummed your body, still holding your chin in his hands, smiling to himself every time your back arched away from him in intense pleasure. Every nerve-ending was at his mercy. He was right, it was different up here. But you wondered how much of that was the Wasteland and it’s effect on sexuality and pleasure, and how much of it was just him. Cooper Howard, Wasteland bounty hunter, a past life he refused to talk about, the most charismatic monster you had ever met. His fingers, daintily crossing over your clit, as you felt his breath, silent except for an occasional hum of satisfaction in the form of a long moan. Maybe it was just Cooper who was different.
It was hard to focus on this new line of though as his hard fingertips clamped down on your clit, pinching it as he rolled it between his fingers. Even harder when he let his hand drop from your neck and instead began teasing at your nipples once more. Soft, cruel flicks over the hardened bumps, his fingers at work on your body, his lips kissing at the back of your neck. Moans growing louder, more frequent, as he let himself enjoy the act of making you squirm. You could tell he was having fun, as you rolled your hips back a little, feeling the thick bulge of his stiffening cock against your rear. You wondered how it might feel, how it might look, and what he could do differently with it.
“Cooper… Coop… I think I’m going to cum…”
His movements quickened, cock twitching against your body as he pinched tighter and pressed his fingers harder against your cunt.
“Don’t you dare, little lady.”
“Ok I’ll… I’ll try but… you have to… stop… please stop… Coop…”
He ignored your please, the whining, desperate begging as you tried to stop your body from the natural, encouraged reaction.
“Have some self-control, sweetheart.”
“Cooper, I really can’t… please… please stop touching me…”
“I absolutely will not.”
Your fingers dug into his thighs, but you noticed that you refused to move away from him. You wanted to do as he asked, wanted to hold yourself back from the brink of orgasm to prolong his touch, but you couldn’t risk him actually stopping, fearing that your body might crumble if his fingers left your quivering, pathetic body for only a second.
Each stroke against your increasingly wet and sensitive pussy had you trembling and shaking, and Cooper had to remove his hand from your breast to keep you steady, placing it under your chin and holding you steady by the neck.
“I am warning you, missy.”
“Cooper… I can’t stop…”
You shuddered and whined as your body gave in to the temptation, feeling a rush of heat and relief as you came on his lap, your arousal coating his pants, adding to the collection of stains and wear on them. But he didn’t stop then.
“No wait… seriously, Cooper… I can’t… I can’t take much more, honestly…”
“Listen, I told you. I said you better not cum. I wasn’t done with you yet.”
Your eyes began to sting with tears of exasperation as your body kept on pushing to its limits, conjuring up another wave of climax, tormenting you with never-ending bouts of arousal that kept you rutting against him, despite how painful it was to keep writhing into his body. You could feel your stomach knotting again, not much time between each orgasm to relax, and you dug your hands into his thighs, pushing your body up off of him as you tensed completely.
“Ok, this time, you do it on my command. You do it when I say you can, alright?”
“Cooper…”
“Don’t give me that pleading shit, you asked me to show you how things are done. Well this is how Cooper fuckin’ Howard does things. So are you ready? You gonna come for me?”
“C-coop… I’ll… I’ll try…”
“Good girl, now you keep that mouth making those whines and moans. I don’t need you to call out my name or anything, I know I’m all you’re thinking about.”
The praise, the self-confidence, the way his fingers seemed to be pulling your orgasm out, motioning for it to come closer to him.
“Come on, darlin’, come on…”
Your vision blurred as the climax came over you, body rolling and convulsing as you came once more at Cooper’s insistence, your cheeks stained with tears, salted water rolling through the layers of grime and clearing paths to your chin.
As you settled back down onto his lap with a shudder, you felt Cooper’s fingers stroking through your hair. He was surprisingly gentle, oddly calm, but you supposed that you deserved his kindness as you had done as he had asked, making up for your previous indiscretion. He was almost cooing, shushing you as you found your breath, establishing your sense of self once more after the overstimulating orgasm that shook your core.
“You seen enough of the big bad world for one day then?”
You probably had, but you still found yourself shaking your head, ignoring the way your body reacted with a violent twitch at the notion of Cooper’s hands delivering intense pleasure.
“A glutton for punishment, hm? Or just keen to learn?”
As you pondered your answer, Cooper seemed to have come to the conclusion for you, as he tapped your hips and began to shift underneath you.
“Alright then, get onto your knees.”
Positioning yourself at his feet, you couldn’t help but look up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at you with that unique brand of disdain and intrigue he had somehow mastered. You knew what was coming, what was about to happen, and your mouth began watering at the thought. What he might taste like. What he might look like.
You didn’t have to imagine for long though, as you could see his fingers working the belt of his pants, loosening it, unzipping his fly, and gripping his semi-erect cock at the base as he took it out, brandishing it. He kept close attention on your own eyes, a soft sigh of relief imperceptibly escaping his chest as he noticed your pupils widen, your mouth opening in preparation for him.
It was exactly as you had expected. The texture of the shaft was similar to that of his cheeks and his forearms, a similar colouring, though darker at the base and on the shaft which was tinted red. Thick, purple tinged veins covered it, winding around the length, cutting across the ridges of the scars.
“You can come closer, darlin’. I don’t know what they told you about mutations and radiation effects down there in your little utopia, but I can assure you… it doesn’t bite.”
The fear was palpable, clearly, but it was nothing to do with Cooper’s body and everything to do with your lack of experience, which, despite you arguing otherwise, was becoming plainly obvious even to you. You had only ever touched a cock with your hands outside of being quickly fucked. Several times you’d been cajoled into quickly stroking an erection under the blankets before your partner ran off to the bathroom, clean and tidy, flushing away the sins. And you were very well aware that there was always the option to suck on one, but it had never presented itself. It had never seemed that appealing to you. Until you were faced with Cooper’s.
He hadn’t even asked you to do either yet, but you found yourself curious, salivating over the thought of him, mind racing as you imagined how he might feel against your tongue.
“Can I taste it… you?”
Cooper smiled warmly, one of the few times you had seen him look at you with genuine pride.
“Now that is using your initiative. Of course you can.”
You kept your hands to yourself as you leaned in towards his body, content to let Cooper wield his length at you, his hand firm around the base as you inched closer, tongue pressed out over your lips. A strand of drool collected and spilled forward, hitting the floor in a soft patter just before the tip of your tongue came into contact with the tip of his cock.
A lot of the movements were instinctual, following your desires more than what you thought might be protocol as you dragged your tongue up the shaft and swirled over the blushing head of his cock. It tasted bitter, but in a pleasant way.  Savoury, not sweet. Salted, a tang that stayed there for a few seconds after your tongue had moved on to another spot. A flavour you found yourself craving now.
Cooper gripped tighter and pushed forward, taking you by surprise as he slid himself into your mouth, his free hand moving to the back of your head, fingers curling into your hair. As the taste of him hit the back of your tongue, cock almost touching your throat, you coughed and spluttered a little.
“Fuck me, darlin’… do you need me to show you how to do this too?”
He looked down at you, filled with pity as he saw your face. Red cheeks, puffed out, lips stretched over the girth of his cock, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe.
“Breath through your nose… breathe in…”
You followed his instructions, instantly calmed when you found your lungs filling with air once more. Almost immediately back to enjoying yourself, the feeling of Cooper inside of you, the control he had as he held your head against him.
“Now… you don’t want to choke too much, so keep your tongue flat… yeah, just like that…”
It was so much easier like that, and you could feel your cheeks getting warmer and redder as you realised that not only had you embarrassed yourself with your spluttering and lack of knowledge, but that Cooper had clearly done this a lot.
“And your teeth… well, usually they’ll tell you to keep ‘em outta the way, but you know me… gotta be different…”
Taking the hint, you let your jaw close slightly, the pain of the stretch lessened, your teeth scraping along the top of his shaft as your tongue worked the underneath, sucking and rolling as much as you could while keeping it flat.
He didn’t say much else, and you couldn’t tell if he was particularly enjoying himself. It worried you, the fact that he had specific preferences, the way it was so clear how much more experienced he was than you. How many others had there been? And were they all better than you? As your mind wandered to your anxieties, you completely missed the fact that you had begun to drool all over yourself until Cooper relaxed his grip on your head and wiped at your chin with his thumb. Catching your eyes and sensing some of your worries, he was surprisingly quick to soothe you.
“You can swallow or spit or let it all spill out, I don’t mind makin’ a mess darlin’. But whatever you’re doing, you keep that up.”
You were so pathetically grateful for the encouragement, for the tiniest semblance of praise, that you felt yourself moaning involuntarily. The soothing motion of sucking on his cock, the taste of something new, the comforting knowledge that he was happy with your efforts. You could feel your clit throbbing, aroused by Cooper’s satisfaction, how pleased he was with the way you worked him over.
Which is why it surprised you so much when he pulled his cock from your mouth, your lips slipping off of it with a disgustingly lewd popping sound, drool spilling onto your chin in long strands which stretched from your lips to his cock and tore apart as he distanced himself from you.
And again, that sympathetic gaze, the way he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it.
“Oh, don’t you look at me with those big, sad eyes. You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. That was good, ‘specially for a first try…”
He winked to you as he spoke, causing your heart to skip enough beats that you thought you might die there and then.
“… It’s just that I’m all slicked up and ready to go now… so you wanna bend over for me? Or do you wanna come sit on my lap?”
“Uh… lap, please… I was kinda bent over for the last… first time.”
“Well, you come and take a seat then, darlin’, let ol’ Coop show you something new.”
You nervously settled your entirely nude body back down onto his thighs. Cooper’s hands were gentle against your shoulders as he pulled you backwards with him, leaning at a slight angle in the chair, his cock rigid and firm as it sat against your waiting cunt, coated in your drool which almost seemed to shimmer with the dancing light of the fire.
Then, so carefully, so gently, far more than you’d ever seen him be before, Cooper took hold of his cock at the base and slid it inside of you, one hand on your stomach as he braced you, keeping your body steady as he inserted himself further and further between your clenching walls.
“Bigger than before?”
You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the distinct stretch, his rough, textured cock forcing its way inside your cunt, pressed up to the hilt, testing your limits.
“Better?”
“Mhm…”
“Speak up, darlin’.”
With your voice strained and breathy, you managed to form some words.
“Yes… it’s better.”
“That’s it, good girl. Now, I’m gonna buck my hips, ok? You just try and keep your balance.”
Below you, Cooper shifted a little, his hips rolling backwards, inches of his cock escaping your tight, aching cunt, before he rolled them forwards and upwards, back into you. A slow, steady pace that he focused on keeping until you felt warmer, more relaxed.
“You got this, it’s like riding a horse.”
“I’ve never… hm… ridden a horse…”
Cooper chuckled, a low and rasping sound that sent shivers over your skin and seemed close enough to you that it was coming from inside of your body.
“Never ridden a ghoul before either, but you’re handling it alright for a first timer.”
You were coping ok, you had to admit, but you could feel your stomach muscles tensing, the knots back in full force as they tensed and tightened, loosened and frayed with each pump of his cock within you.
“Ah… Cooper…”
“Too much, darlin’? Does it hurt?”
There was a sense of genuine care in his tone, as though he had taken it upon himself to show you that yes, things were different up there in the Wasteland, but that didn’t always mean they were worse. Some things were good, if not a little bit difficult to take at first.
“A little…”
Cooper tilted your chin up, forcing your head to lean back completely against his shoulder. In a delicate move, one far more romantic than you imagined from him, he ran his thumb over your lips, angling his neck to look at them, his own mouth open ever so slightly, a monotonous panting as he kept his hips moving, increasing the speed and the force at which he entered you.
His eyes flicked up suddenly, looking into yours, catching your gaze and holding unblinking eye contact as he spoke.
“I know… I know… Just a little longer, though…”
He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock pushing against your body, enveloped in your hot, wet, velvety interior.
“I know it hurts… but I ain’t stopping, so don’t even ask… here…”
You watched as he brought a finger to your lips, offering it up to you.
“…you bite down on that if it gets too much, ok… but don’t hold back on those sweet sounds… I wanna hear you scream.”
With that vaguely threatening remark, he thrust up into you, banging against your body, spurring on your orgasm but unleashing a dull ache that spread through every sensitive part of you.
“Won’t… be long… keep it together… good girl…  good girl…”
It felt good, the pain, the sting, the ache, the shivers. The fact that he was using you, finding pleasure in you. All of it culminating in Cooper’s nearing orgasm which you could sense was closing in on him. His movements were becoming more frantic, sloppier, and he was mouthing all manner of sweet nothings as he let his façade slip away.
And those soft mumbles opened up into a wide roar as he clung to your body, the hand on your neck cutting off the air to your lungs only briefly, one hand on your lap pressing sharp indents into your skin as he forced himself into you. The last few moments of his fevered thrusting, fucking you wildly, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he rutted into you in a dazed stupor before his body gave in. His cock throbbed, each pulse sending another rope of cum against your insides, filling you with his seed as he shuddered finally, slinking backwards into the chair and taking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from him.
You’d only managed to take a few steps forward before Cooper addressed you, opening his eyes to watch you standing there awkwardly, his cum dripping down your thighs, a warmth that quickly turned cool in the air of the room.
“Did I say you could get up?”
Panic settled in your chest, aware that you had waited until you felt his muscles relax, his body retreating from you, before you slid off his cock, expecting him to push you away anyway, like your first time. You assumed he was finished, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the idea that he might not be done with you.
“Are we… oh, Cooper, I really can’t take anymore.”
Even as you stood, you could feel your legs shaking, weakened by the intense orgasms, the way they tightened against his every movement.
“That’s different up here too then, I suppose.”
Cooper stood up from the chair, pacing towards you with a purposeful stride as he pushed his cock back into his pants, zipping them up as he reached you. You inhaled sharply as he placed his hand at the back of your head, those knots in your stomach beginning to form again, worried that a further, albeit pleasurable punishment was on the cards. But you were surprised as he slid his free hand around your back, tugging at your waist as he pulled you in close to him. A quick smile before his lips were on yours, the brim of his hat pushed upwards as he leaned into the kiss. Warm, gentle, the kind of kiss you’d seen in movies. Practised and confident, meaningful, sincere.
When he pulled back, your body following him a little before you settled back onto your feet, he smiled warmly.
“Sweet with the sour, darlin’. You gotta keep ‘em wanting more.”
“M-more?”
More as in now? Or more as in the idea that Cooper had enjoyed himself and would be willing to offer that kind of pleasure to you again. And he answered with a wink.
“Definitely. There’s a still a lot you’ve got to learn.”
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bi-writes · 2 days
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what you want you cannot find. so you let someone else find it for you. (18+, dark!simon x curvy!fem!reader, arranged marriage)
you don't really know what you were thinking when you answered the ad. it is many things, maybe, why you chose to apply. why you were grateful to be chosen.
the loneliness, it aches. you cannot find yourself in anyone else, you cannot find the thing that should move you and hold you. you cannot find what it is that should ignite what is asleep, the thing nestled between your ribs that feels like it beats to a rhythm that you cannot hear.
the bitterness, too. there is something sour that you taste. there is acid under your tongue, something rotten between your teeth, and you wish for anything that you would stop tasting it because it reminds you of how alone you are, how alone you'll remain, the inevitable thing that you wish you weren't but that you unfortunately are.
it is the thing you cannot die for because there isn't anything to die for. you live, and you breathe, and you exist, but there isn't anything there. this is nothing that makes you want to gnaw on your own flesh, there is no life you would take in sake of another, there is no purpose to your existence except the hope that perhaps there is still time to have what you want more than anything.
but you don't know what you want. you don't know because everything that you thought you wanted, you do not want any longer. you never feel anything with other men. they are beneath you. they maim what they shouldn't. they complain about things that they can fix. they stare at a problem head-on, with the solution at their back, and they chase their tails. they do not know their right from their left. you hate them. but you want it. you want something. you want one of them, but you don't know which, so maybe if you don't choose, you will find what it is that you don't know you're looking for.
you're alone in the room. they gave you a bouquet of white roses. you hold them nervously between clammy palms. you wear a silk white dress that skims the floor, fabric falling soft over the curve of your waist and gentle along the swell of your cleavage. your hair is loose, and there is a short veil over your head, covering your face.
you stare at your handler. he's dressed in his military fatigues, tactical vest still strapped with the Union Jack across his chest. he has introduced himself as captain john price, and he is the one who arranged for your arrival. he is the one who told you to wear white, and he is the one who gave you the roses.
captain john price is rugged. captain john price is kind. and captain john price is not what you want. you are grateful that you are not yet disappointed with your match.
the door opens behind you. you straighten your posture that extra inch when you hear his heavy gait. there is a pause as the door shuts behind him, and you see his captain nod to a figure that you cannot see. his boots hit the floor low, and you swallow when the sunlight that comes through the window is blocked entirely by the size of him as he stands at your side.
the vows are short. you say your i do first, soft voice that hits his ears in a way that makes him nearly purr. when it is his turn to say i do, your eyes sparkle. he speaks in such a low voice, a Manchester accent that makes your toes curl in the white kitten heels that you wear. a drawl that you can feel in your chest, an accent that ticks a corner of your brain you did not know was there.
"you may kiss your bride."
you turn away from the captain. you tilt your head to look up at him, and you let out a soft breath when you realize the sheer breadth of this man.
he is barely a man. he must be something else. he is dressed all in black, and he wears all of his gear. his tactical vest is stocked well, magazines tucked into their pockets, a grenade dangling from one strap, a handgun tucked into its holster on his chest and around his thick thigh. his belt is heavy with more, knives in sheathes, devices in their places. even without all of the weight, you know the size of him won't shrink.
you cannot see his face. he covers it with a mask, one that resembles the front face of a skull. it is dirty. you aren't certain if it is blood or soot or dirt. maybe it is all of that and more. you cannot see his eyes through the veil either, but they are dark, and they are intense.
you keep your eyes fixed on his as he lifts your veil. the delicate fabric settles over your head, and you see him without obstruction.
there he is.
it is like seeing a man for the first time. it is like being in the presence of the dream you've always had and could never remember.
he tilts his head to the side, curious. he is seeing your face for the first time, too. soft eyes. glossy lips. the curve of your mouth. the untouched skin of your cheeks, the unmarred flesh that you wear. he follows the line of your throat to the peek of your tits dressed in silk. you are a present wrapped in luxury. hand delivered goods, of the finest quality.
his bride. his wife. something he will have forever. he does not know if he has ever been able to say that about anything else. he's never had anything except for his life. nothing except for himself has ever belonged to him, but even now, not even his life is his own, it belongs to someone far away, someone in an office somewhere, who moves the chess pieces of his world around, where he cannot do anything but follow.
you stand on your toes to get closer to him. he thinks for just a second you will ask him to remove his mask, but you don't. you cant your head, and you kiss him over the mask, sticky gloss leaving a light imprint on the fabric. you settle back onto your heels, and your breath hitches when one of his gloved hands comes to settle at the dip of your waist.
"she's all mine now, eh, cap'n?"
you blink, your eyes still on his. you don't move, and you don't say anything. you wonder, if you could see his face, if he would smile.
"all yours, simon."
you let him drag you closer, shuffling on your feet until your hips press against his. your back arches gently as he uses both hands, gripping you around the middle and feeling the soft flesh underneath your silk dress. he is a rabid dog, his next meal at his fingertips. she is his, and he wants to take her home. if his captain was not standing at his back, he knows he would take you on this very floor.
she is mine. she is mine. she is mine.
he has studied your picture. he has memorized your name. he has been waiting for you. he is too awkward to leave base. he is too quiet to attract birds, birds that matter, birds that sing. he is too ravenous to be anything but permanent, he isn't capable of the mundane, of casual. it is everything or nothing at all, and at the sound of permanence, he foamed at the mouth.
at the thought of something to keep, he was blinded. when beasts lose control, they call their keeper, and he had none. this change could be good. this change would do him well. when he ignores the order of a commanding officer, he will bend to yours, because he is bound, wrapped, tied to you with something invisible that weaves between his bones.
you do not know what you were before, but you know what you are now.
you follow after him. he turns to leave, and you let him lead. your heels click as you walk, and when it is hard for you to keep up, you reach for his hand. he grunts when you do, but he doesn't push you away. you hold wilting roses in one hand, and you clutch him in the other. recruits and privates stop to salute or step out of your way, and they stare when they see a trailing angel behind their lieutenant, a pretty girl in a pretty white dress with a veil fluttering against the breeze as you try and keep up with your husband's long strides.
the door he stops in front of is plain and unmarked. he fits a key into the lock, turning it and opening it, and he invites you over a threshold that no one else has ever stepped over. you stand on the other side, holding the roses to your chest. he turns when you don't follow him inside. you get a glimpse of him as a whole, the man that he is, big and menacing and taken. you wonder if he will wear his ring under his glove or if he will put it on the chain that holds his dog tags.
"is this where you live?" you ask. you stay on the other side, looking in, a little timid as you stand there.
he nods, silent. he crosses his arms over his chest, and you admire the bulge of them, the paint of skeleton bones along the fingers of his gloves. you look him up and down before smiling a little.
"is this where i will live, too?"
he shakes his head, a no.
"can't have a thing like y'here," he murmurs. "boys'll eat y'up."
you tilt your head to the side.
"i find that hard to believe," you quip. "do people often eat what's yours, lieutenant?"
he snarls, narrowing his eyes. "no one takes wot's mine."
"then what are you so afraid of?"
"that 'f y'r 'ere, i won't get any fuckin' work done."
you break out into a big smile, pearly white teeth flashing, and he clicks his tongue at your reaction. he reaches up and lifts his mask, pushing it up until it rests over his nose. his nose is crooked from being broken so many times. his face is scarred, as if someone took a blade and carved out the skin and muscle. a deep one stretches from somewhere under the mask to his lip, where it looks as if the skin was haphazardly stitched back together. another long jagged grey streak comes over the line of his cheek down his jaw, as if someone tried to peel his face off.
he grins. it's ugly and unsettling, as if he sees prey that he knows he will catch. your own smile does not fade. his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and you want to taste him. beast, bear, killing machine, the boogeyman, a ghost that haunts, you do not know exactly what he is, but you know, immediately, that he is what you have been searching for.
you do not know him. you do not love him yet, but you will. you are sure of this. you are sure that he is missing piece. he will fill the spaces that you have always felt hollow. he will scratch a place in your head that has always itched. there is something in his eyes, you're not exactly sure what it is, but you can't wait to discover it. you can't wait to explore, to indulge, to lick the salt of his skin and know that everything he is has been waiting for something like you.
you did not choose him, but he chose you, and now you see it clearly. you see this thing, and you know the truth of what's been hiding from you all your life. the curtain has been taken down. the veil is off. the walls are invisible.
"come 'ere," he says lowly. "won't ask so nicely next time."
you drop the flowers onto the floor, crossing the doorway. you kick the door shut, hearing it click, and he comes closer, until you can feel his breath fanning your nose.
"will you love me?" you ask, wringing your hands together nervously. "do you think maybe...do you think maybe that's possible?"
he licks over his teeth, humming. he leans down, knocking your chin up, and your breath hitches when he licks up the side of your jaw, taking in a whiff of your perfume and the sweetness of his bride.
"what a stupid word," he mutters, biting at the curve of your bottom lip. "meaningless. love. bloody hell."
"w-what...what?"
"a meaningless fuckin' word for the things i would do for ya," he continues. "the things i would kill. the heads i would step on. the sorry fucks i would get rid of...just to see y'smile."
your eyes flutter. yes, yes, yes--the unconditional devotion. the terrifyingly beautiful reality of through sickness and in health, until death do us part.
"is it really that easy, simon?" you ask. his gloved hands slip over your throat, sliding low and skimming the silk of your dress before he cups both sides of your ass and squeezes, drawing you closer until you are uncomfortably pressed up against him. his gear digs into your softness, sharp edges cutting into you, but you ignore it as he begins to draw up the skirt of your dress. "is it really that easy to say you'll do all of that for me? isn't it...it's wrong, isn't it? to do those things for me?"
he laughs. humorless, condescending. as if that is the stupidest thing you could have ever said.
"'s olright, swee'eart. gonna take all those ideas outta y'r pretty lil' head."
you relax when you feel his gloved hand under the hem of your white lace panties. your eyes shut, and you reach forward and grip his vest for stability.
"christ..." he hisses. "y'r soaked..."
you are. you have been since you first laid eyes on him, on everything he is. you know why you are here, and he knows why he is here, and that is because there were two people so desperate to find one another, that they let someone else choose. the gods, fate, whatever they want to be called.
matched by design, together by choice.
you lean forward and kiss beside his lips, and you whine when his big fingers slide between your folds, soft on your clit before he fits two fingers inside of you. his gloves are warm, and you wet them easily.
"wot a good girl," he breathes. "knew y'were the right one."
"y-you did?"
"could see it in y'r eyes, dove. could see wot y'needed. could see it plain as fuckin' day. dyin' inside, just like me, aye?"
you shake your head.
"n-not anymore...not anymore..." you gasp, and he tsks as he steps backward, the weight of him heavy as he takes a seat on his perfectly made bed, bringing you with him. you fall into his lap, unafraid to because you know someone of his size can carry you easily, and he hums as you spread your thighs apart. you straddle him, pressed up against the gun holstered to his chest, and you moan softly against his scarred face as he fucks you open with three unforgiving fingers.
"not anymore," he echos, baring his teeth as he pumps his hand. the squelch of it is filthy, but it isn't enough. he wants you to soak his arm, his thighs, his bed, let the slick of you stain him from the outside in. "not anymore. not as my wife."
you scramble. you rip the veil out of your hair, untie the corset of your dress. there's a naked angel in his lap, perky tits and soft figure, giving way to the gorgeous place you keep hidden by white, wet lace. the place that is his, the place that belongs to him, a pretty pussy that will keep him satiated until he breathes no longer.
after he tears apart his enemy, he will have you. after he tastes the blood he desires to see run, he will have you. the adrenaline, the fire, the shout of every order and the sound of their cries, it won't exist anymore in this place, he knows it.
"y'll never want for anythin'," he mutters. "y'll never be lonely. always get wot y'want...wot y'need...wot y'deserve..."
you reach up and cup his cheeks gently, pressing your mouth to his as you ride his fingers eagerly. you want him, you want this, you want all of it, even if it isn't what's right. but something brought you here, right into his arms, and this is what you deserve.
he's not even human, you don't think. he must be something else. with how good he makes you feel, with the sheer precision that he rocks his fingers into you, the way he smiles, he must be made of only something synthetic, something not organic.
you feel so small underneath him. he tosses you onto the bed, your head hitting the pillow gently. you giggle, and his grin widens. he has a warm pink tongue, and it's between his teeth, and you giggle again when he moves his head from side to side, staring down at you. he's studying you. you assume he has seen photos of you, but this is his first time seeing his bride for all that she is. soft, pretty, unscathed by war. at least on the outside--but on the inside, you are not as you seem.
there's a parasite in you. something that slithers behind your eyes and settles in that corner of your brain that only he can touch. he knows that feeling well. he feels it every time he is in the field, and he feels it now, with you. he chases this tick when he works. it knocks his senses just right, makes him feel good and big, like the reaper that he really is. he can be this with a rifle in his hand, and he can be this without it, with the weight of his wife in his hands.
you smile, biting your lip, and you spread your legs for him. his eyes fall between your thighs, and he chuckles. he brings his gloved hand up to his mouth, the one that smells like you, and you watch as he slips it inside, sucking on it for a moment before he uses his teeth to take both gloves off.
he bends, still in all his military glory, and he sticks his tongue out, licking a fat stripe up the seam of your cunt, using one thumb to pull the puffy lip apart and suckle on your clit for just a moment.
you gasp, arching your back, and he stands to his full height again, laughing.
"oh, y'taste sweet," he purrs. "y'taste good. hard t'believe i'll have this cunny for m'whole fuckin' life."
"believe it, baby," you coo, and he sighs. he nods his head, reaching low, gripping himself through his cargo pants and squeezing his cock. you follow his movements, watching him pay special attention to the tip of him, running his finger over where you guess the slit is as he watches you squirm. "why are you so far away, simon? don't you want me?"
he laughs again, smiling wide, and he nods.
"course i want ya, swee'eart. who wouldn't want ya, huh? who wouldn't want this?"
you meet his eyes. the question is a sound one, but it never mattered that you were wanted, what mattered is that you never wanted. not really. not until now.
you watch him as he reaches for his zipper. he undoes it easily, unbuttoning his pants and shoving them low. they won't go very low, thanks to the holsters around his thighs, but it's enough that you watch his cock stand at attention, the red tip of him leaking down the sides, making the bulging vein on the underside of him shine.
you whine a little, and he growls happily, watching as you cup the swell of your tits and squeeze them in anticipation. perfect, perfect, perfect girl, practically a mail-order bride that checks every single fucking box.
he grips you by the thighs, yanking you to the edge of the bed. you whimper when he slides the tip through your folds, letting it catch at the entrance before smirking down at you.
"'s big," you hiccup, and he tsks, shaking his head.
"y'can take it, swee'eart," he murmurs. "y'r a riley now, luvvie. y'know what tha' means?" you shake your head, your eyes a little watery, and he smooths a hand up your sternum, gripping you around the throat gently. "gonna find out...gonna find out how well a riley takes wot they're given."
"simon--"
"'s alright, luv, we'll start nice, yeah?" he breathes. you grip onto his forearms when he feeds you his cock, slowly, and your back bows at a sharp angle as you squeeze him for everything he is. "fuckin' hell...yeah, just the tip, yeah? oh, good girl..."
good girl, yeah...i'm a good girl--
you cry out, digging your nails into him when he mutters fuck it and bottoms out. his palm flattens just under your belly button, a choked groan leaving him as he presses down, a rush of something fucking glorious running down his spine. it's a high--he's so fucking high, as if he is popping fucking pills.
"feel me here, yeah?" he drags his hips back, smoothing a hand further up your stomach until he paws one of your tits, squeezing it firmly. you nod, sliding your hands up his arms, fisting the fabric of his mask at the base of his neck. you feel him everywhere, you feel him in your chest, running down your spine, you feel him in your mouth and in your head, and it feels so good, it feels so so so so good.
"yes--yes!" you gasp. fuck, he's huge, he's putting a shadow over you. you're naked, bare underneath him, and his gear rocks with every thrust, and it's filthy because you wonder if he worked, you wonder if he didn't even change before he went to marry his perfectly-picked bride, you wonder if he got off the tarmac not even an hour after killing his target to go and take what is his.
how long ago was it that he last fired his weapon? the gun on his chest, did he use it before he saw you?
i bet he did. i bet he used it. i bet he smoked the cigarette that i smell on him, and i bet he came here, and then he married me, and now he's all mine, and he's fucking me six ways to fucking sunday--
you think you're drooling. your lips are wet, and with every smack of his hips against yours, you feel a little more trickle down the side of your face. you're moaning, gripping his neck, pulling him further down on top of you. you want him all around you, you want him inside, you want him to come every day wearing this terrifying fucking uniform and to fuck you so stupid, you forget everything except for the name he has given you.
you want to know nothing except for his name. simon. riley. simon. riley.
you want to know nothing except for what you are. his wife. his wife. his wife.
it's so hard to remember to breathe. his hands grip you tight around the hips, and he's losing momentum, hissing, letting out choked groans as he brands the shape of his cock into you. he never wants you to forget what he feels like--he never wants you to know anything except for him, for the rest of your life.
"simon--" you whine, and he smirks, reaching up to hold your face in one big hand, keeping you still as you chase the grind of his pelvis against your puffy clit. "simon--!"
"tha'sit, luvvie...yeah..." he nods, "look at me--look at me," he leans down, a big weight over you, suffocating you, "good girl, yeah..." he clicks his tongue, "cum f'me, swee'eart. cum f'y'r husband, yeah?"
you lean up, chasing after him, gripping onto the sides of his face as you kiss him hard. it is the first time you really kiss him. slotting your mouth over his, slipping your tongue into his mouth, the sting of your wedding ring cooling his warm face as you taste him for the very first time.
it is gone. the bitterness that you always taste, the acid and the sourness and everything that always is so unpleasant under your tongue, it is gone when you have him. he takes it out of your mouth completely, and you chase after this just as you chase after the harsh grind of your clit against his pelvis.
he is carrying you. you're lifting, coming over some kind of sweet, exhilarating euphoria, and you're blinded by it, by the feeling, by him. you want more, more, you want it all, and he said you could have anything you want, that you'll never need anything ever again, he said, he said, he said--!
he laughs when you come. he swallows your moans, hisses when you soak his pants. you are the prettiest thing he could ever hope for, the personification of the things he does not deserve and could never have, and it is selfish that he has taken you this way, but he does not fucking care.
the things we cannot have are the sweetest, the most desirable. and simon is nothing if he isn't a thief.
he is nothing if he doesn't just take what he wants. he likes to think that perhaps he adopts the "ask for forgiveness, and not for permission" philosophy, but he does not ask for forgiveness. and he has never asked for permission.
"please--simon--" you gasp, looking up at him. your eyes are wet, and a few tears wet his hand around your face. "please--inside me, please..."
"'s olright, luv--" he grunts, pumping faster, his pretty little wife just begging for him, for more, and how could he say no to that? "easy, baby...i'll give it t'ya, don't worry, fuck--" he hisses, "lieutenant's wife gets woteva she wants..."
"please--inside--" you choke. "simon, inside, i-i want it inside--"
fuck, that is all he needed. he nestles deep, pressing his hips to yours, and you kiss him once more when you go blind again. a second high, when he stuffs you full. just as you should be. just as you always should be.
"yeah, fuck--" he breathes. "tha' wot y'wanted, yeah? nice and full, good girl..." he licks his lips, standing up straight, and just when you think he is pulling out, he yanks you back towards him, cum leaking down your thighs as you cry out from being so sensitive.
"simon!" you gasp, giggling, and he grins, patting your ass gently before pulling out. you let your knees fall onto the cot, swallowing hard as you watch him tuck himself back into his pants and zip them up. he brings the mask back down, and you watch as he slips his gloves back on. "hmm..."
he tilts his head to the side, sighing as he watches you settle there. something warm settles in his stomach, something satisfied.
"like havin' y'in my bed," he says lowly. "look nice there."
you smile, and he holds out one hand, beckoning you to sit up. you do, slowly, a little shaky as you try and compose yourself, and he leans down and kisses you through the mask. you close your eyes, humming, leaning into his touch.
"so i can stay?" you ask, and he chuckles.
"mmm...y'r so cute, luvvie..." he rumbles. "a doll, yeah? can't say no to ya."
you look down at the ring on your finger, a solid gold band complete with a precious diamond. you will have to get used to this--you are his wife, you can ask things of him, and you don't think he'll say no.
you look up at him when he tosses something at you. an army green shirt of his, and you slip it on, letting the fabric fall, and you lay back down in his cot as he moves around his room. you lay in comfortable silence, watching as the thing that calls himself your husband looks for files on his desk, adjusts the gun strapped to his thigh, shuffles his boots across the linoleum. you are mesmerized by what he is, and you haven't known him even a day.
you don't believe this is your vision askew. the honeymoon phase. the sugary sweet moments in time at the beginning where nothing is wrong, where all is well. simon riley is a practical man. he does not lie. he does not do things he does not want to do, and he does not say things he does not want to say. he is not in the business of comfort and ease, that much is clear to you.
simon riley is practical and resourceful. you think maybe he counts his words. that he doesn't say more than he has to. waste his energy on things that don't require it.
his wife. i'm his wife. his wife.
"why..." you swallow. "why...why did you pick me?"
he pauses as he stands in front of a locker. when he opens it, you see shelves of personal weapons stashed away, handguns of different sizes and shapes, knives of differing steel, toys that with a small push of a finger could destroy whatever building they went off inside. you don't flinch, don't blink, don't feel fear. you don't know why, but you just don't. you don't think it's possible.
he doesn't look at you as he surveys what lines the walls of it.
"just knew y'were the one f'me, swee'eart," he mutters. he shuts the locker, and the lock clicks. he comes closer, twirling a small blade between his fingers, and you don't cower away when he flicks it towards you, holding your chin up with the sharp tip of it. he hums appreciatively at this. "in all honesty, had no idea really until i saw ya, 'f you'd be mine."
he bends down, leans close, and you follow the curve of the blade with your head, keeping your eyes on his. there is no timidness in your gaze, and for that, he beams under the mask. perfection in one woman.
"and what would you have done if i wasn't the one?"
he shrugs.
"would've killed ya, luv."
"just like that?"
"just like tha'."
the tip of his blade drags, sliding up the length of your throat, along the line of your jaw. your lips part as he traces your mouth with it, and you tilt your head to the side as you trace the edge of it with your tongue. he leans forward more, pressing his forehead to yours, and you can see where the eye-black around his eyes fades into his pale skin under the balaclava. you see yourself in those eyes. the you that you have been waiting for. the you that you have missed for your entire life. the you that has been hiding, too scared to come out, too afraid of what might be said if someone saw the real you.
she had not been hiding. just lying dormant, in someone else, waiting for you to come home.
you smile, big, and simon presses his mouth to yours again through the mask, kissing you there, growling from deep in his chest, a purr that only emanates the contentment and the relief he feels because he has found that thing to live for. it is so easy to die. it is so easy to give oneself for what they believe. it is not hard to give the best of yourself away, he knows that.
what he has never been able to do is find something that will keep him alive. he has only ever lived because he found dying pathetic. he found it cowardly. but the alternative had been just as unforgiving, just as unfulfilling. but not this. not you.
you will make it difficult to die. you will make death a challenge. and when he eyes that smile, this one that you give only to him, he is happy to be given this new objective.
"but don't worry y'r pretty head about all tha', luv."
you give him those eyes, and he drinks it all in, all that you are. finally, finally, finally--
"until death do we part, yeah?"
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pomefioredove · 3 days
Text
having a crush on you
summary: how they would act having a crush on you type of post: headcanons characters: pomefiore (vil, rook, epel) additional info: reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, rook is rook, not proofread, hi I'm insane and I love pining, I NEED to write another fic but with rook. might write this same prompt with other dorms
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𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭
don't take his calm and collected facade as apathy
he's slowly losing his mind about this
"pacing back and forth, mumbling to himself, falling asleep thinking about you" kind of losing his mind
it's my personal belief that Vil hasn't been in love before this
hasn't even really thought about it
so when you enter the picture it kinda throws him off balance
and with the exception of Rook, no one can even tell
he is an actor, after all, he can play the part of "totally platonic friends with room for Jesus"
(maybe a little too well)
but Vil isn't entirely emotionally repressed
he keeps things to himself, yes, but he's quite conscious of his own wants and needs
so when he realizes he's been craving your presence more than usual he does acknowledge it
in his head
and then does nothing about it for months
...what? he's busy
things like this can wait for him, and he doesn't want to put a rift between you two in case it might be a passing feeling
well... it doesn't pass
he becomes keenly aware of how much he wants you around him, how much he thinks about you, how much your very presence is enough to make him happier than he's ever... really felt
and you know what?
he is totally cool about it.
just kidding. he drives himself insane trying to think of the perfect way to confess, something that will impress you and meet his standards
he's dropping hints left and right and you don't seem to be picking any of them up
which again, just makes him crazy
(some days he really wants to ask you how oblivious one person can be, but he restrains himself)
I mean, how many times can he send you red tulips before you finally get the hint? he's practically spelling it out for you!
there is... a tiny, little part of him that worries you don't reciprocate
is he not your type? are you interested in someone else? perhaps he'd been too harsh on you, after all...
the fact that one little potato can make him so worried absolutely drives him mad
he is the vision of poise and grace and you are ruining him
and this sort of mood comes and goes in waves
just when he thinks he's pulled himself back together, you'll smile at him or say something cute and suddenly he's back to square one
(you're so adorable it's annoying -_-)
while he's sorting out a good way to express his feelings properly, he'll be spending all his free time with you
you need some new things? he'll be glad to take you shopping
you came over to see Epel? oh, well, he's not here, but you should stay for some tea, anyway!
your afternoon is free? he has some new lip gloss he's been dying to test out...
𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭
contrary to popular belief, I don't think Rook would be so open about it
he still compliments you, of course, and sings praises of your beauty and elegance, and has little regard for personal space, as always
but he's like that with a lot of people, so it's hard to really tell when he likes someone
the truth of the matter is that Rook Hunt can be just as reserved with his feelings as anyone else
when he really, really likes someone, he keeps it to himself
why?
he's hunting you he's learning more about you before making his true feelings known
he feels it's necessary to have an adequate amount of information on his target before making a move, after all
for reference: you catch his eye at orientation, and do not have a single conversation with him until after winter break
(of course, after that, you start mysteriously running into him everywhere)
is he kinda weird about it? uh. yeah.
this is Rook we're talking about
on the other hand, he's completely lovesick about you and it's almost cute
he's definitely the type to write your initials in a journal with a glitter pen while kicking his feet back and forth and giggling
seeing if you would sound better with his last name or he with yours...
definitely has a very weird photo collection of you somewhere in his room
along with stacks of poems, pressed flowers, and little gifts he intends to give you once he's won you over
(when, not if. Rook is nothing if not patient)
you may find a rose left outside Ramshackle every so often
or a few cans of tuna for Grim
all while acting like the same old eccentric Rook, no discernable difference
except when you can feel his eyes on you at random places in the middle of the day
Ace and Deuce call you paranoid but you can't shake the feeling
though, every once in a while he'll get a little grumpy
Rook is easily jealous, and while that sort of possessiveness never extended to untouchable idols like Vil and Neige, he's already decided that you're his prey
and he'd kindly ask everyone else to find their own, thank you
he hasn't exactly planned the confession yet, but just know it's probably going to be the sweetest and craziest you've ever heard
𝐄𝐩𝐞𝐥 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐫
first of all he's going to fight you for making him like you so much
second of all he's going to beg for a chance
maybe not in that exact order
Epel is constantly at war with his own emotions and having romance thrown in the mix is. uh. not optimal
not only does it ruin the stoic, strong male persona he's been trying to build, but it's also making him feel all soft and gushy
suddenly he cares about looking nice
(much to Vil's approval)
and now he wants to do nice things for you?
he's gonna bite you
how dare you make him think about kissing and holding hands!
don't you know he's supposed to be above all this romantic stuff? what is he, Rook?!
then, after his initial temper tantrum, he starts coping. hard.
he might be able to stomach the idea of being an item if he gets to wear the pants in the relationship
...yeah, right? right.
if you let him be the man, if you let him protect you...
he might be okay with it!
obviously he starts trying to show off his manly strength (seriously) every time he sees you
starts making comments about how tough practice was on him
will literally never let anyone else carry anything for you ever again
he even provides for you (in payments of apple juice)
obviously this backfires 'cause the second you do something that gives him butterflies he's back to giggling
(you'll have to ease him into the idea of being soft and romantic together, but he'll get there)
but, to his credit, he'd be the first out of all the above to confess
super suddenly and out of nowhere (and he ends up shouting it cause he didn't want to sound chicken) but it's sweet in its own way
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changbinlov3r · 1 day
Text
The very first night | L.M.
Pairing: Lee Know x afab!reader
Summary: after a few months of dating Minho, you two finally have your very first night.
Genre: fluff, smut, friends to lovers
Words count: ± 3,200
THIS ONE AND ALL MY CONTENTS ARE +18, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!
If you like my content don't forget to ✨reblog✨
Warnings: virgin!Minho, virgin!reader, very sloppy and eager sex, unprotected piv(wrap it before you tap it), fingering, oral(F receiving), biting(I think that's all)
A/N: I was reading this fic by @moonlinos and had this thought: "what would be like to have your first time with inexperienced bf Minho" and it came out like this 🥺 I'd like to tell @/moonlinos that I just found out about your blog and your writing is amazing, you're really an inspiration 🫶🏻
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You met Minho on your first day of college, you were lost in the campus trying to find the orientation room when you bumped into someone, letting your books and bag fall to the floor.
It was your fault, you were looking around and didn't see the man coming in your direction. You apologized right away, more preoccupied with picking up your things rather than looking in his face but he didn't answer you, waiting for you to properly look him in the eyes.
To say that you two hit it off instantly when your eyes met his, it's an understatement. You even blinked a few times making sure you weren't dreaming. That guy was the prettiest man you have ever seen and it's not even an exaggeration. He was wearing a light pink sweater with a white dress shirt below, dark blue jeans and all stars. It was an outfit that would look average in anyone else but it looked like a masterpiece in him.
You didn't want to let him go so in the spur of the moment, you asked if he knew where to find the orientation for your major, just to find out he was also going there. After that day you two got closer like it was nothing, you were never good at making friends but it seemed so natural with him, like it just happened you didn't have to put a lot of effort into it.
You first realized your feelings for him when he told you he had a date coming up. You felt like throwing up and the ache on your chest just made the whole situation more excruciating.
You avoided him for a week after that, trying to convince yourself that you weren't in love with him or at least that you could pretend not to be in love with him.
When he showed up at your dorm in the middle of the night looking extremely tired, eye bags under his eyes and hair a mess, he inquired why you were being like that and you suddenly didn't want to pretend anymore. You decided in the split of a second that it was worth it to confess to him, so you did.
He blinked once, twice and for a third time, not letting out a single word, making you suddenly regret everything that you said to him. What if he wanted to end your friendship? You don't think you could handle losing him as your friend too.
But in an unexpected turn of events he stepped close to you, cupping your face with his hands and kissing you.
“I thought you didn't like me back”, he whispered after pulling away, breathless. “That's why I was trying to move on”
You felt relief wash all over you, so he liked you back it seems.
After months of dating, you still hadn't gone beyond kissing and some light touching. You always let things flow in your relationship, knowing that you two would give the next step when you were ready. And it was sooner than you expected.
The end of the semester had arrived, finals were finally over and you could take a deep breath. You and Minho would meet in the cafe in front of the college gates, grab some coffee and go back to his apartment to watch some movies and cuddle. His roommates would be out tonight partying to celebrate the end of the semester and the apartment would be just yours.
“Fried chicken or pizza?” He asks, scrolling on his phone while selecting something to order.
“Fried chicken?” You ask back, making him glare at you. He hates how indecisive you are so he always tries to give you few options.
“Ordered”, he tells you.
“I'm gonna take a shower”, you get up going to the bathroom.
Your bath is a bit longer than usual, you are not in a hurry today since you can stay up all night and sleep all day tomorrow but when you open your eyes there's a surprise in the wall next to you.
“Minho!” You yell, screaming like you just saw a ghost. You grab a towel and jump to the other side of the bathroom, watching as your boyfriend swings the door open, worry in his face.
When he looks at you and sees you are safe and sound, he scowls.
“What is it?” He rushes you, impatiently.
You point out in the bathroom, tears in your eyes.
“Did you make all this scandal because of a cockroach?” He asks, huffing but goes after it and kills it for you.
“You know I hate them”, you make a disgusted face. “They are gross”
He sighs, just now paying attention to you and noticing that you have only a towel covering you. You only remember that fact when his cheeks and ears turn pink and you look down, instantly covering your chest.
“Don't look!” You whine, hiding behind the door.
“Okay! Okay!” He puts his hands up in surrender, turning around and closing the door.
What follows after that is an awkward atmosphere, you are boyfriend and girlfriend but never have seen each other naked. You know it's something that is certain to happen but you never really discussed much about it.
You decide to address the issue when you are already on your second glass of soju. You look at him challengingly, narrowing your eyes.
“I think I should see you without a shirt since you have seen me too”, you tell him. It's not what you wanted to say, you wanted to ask if he ever thought about your first time but the moment you were going to say it you chickened out.
“I haven't seen you without a shirt though”, he says, “you were covered by a towel”
“But that's the equivalent of me being naked in front of you, so now you have to pay me back”, you roll out your words, trying to form a coherent sentence. You're not drunk enough to be doing that but you're definitely embarrassed enough to be doing that.
Minho sighs, knowing you won't drop it. So he puts his hands on the collar of his shirt, pulling it off, revealing his abs.
You can feel your cheeks burning, you have never seen him without a shirt and the only thing that comes to your mind to describe him is: tempting.
You gulped down, feeling a strange pool form in your panties, you can feel it getting soaked.
“I think now it's your time to pay me back”, he raises a brow, making you bite nervously on your bottom lip.
“I'm not wearing a bra”, you whisper, feeling your heart beat faster at each passing second.
“I wasn't either”, he jokes, making you punch him in the arm. When Minho doesn't look away, staring at you intensely, you realize he's being serious about that so you gather all the courage you have, grabbing the rem of your — well, it's actually his, shirt and pulling it off, letting it fall down to the ground as you become completely mesmerized by the look on his face.
Minho has his bottom lip stuck between his teeth, lust emanating out of him. You can see his chest rise and fall at a fast pace.
“Can… Can I touch you?” He asks, looking into your eyes desperately and you nod, watching as he comes closer, cupping your breasts with both of his hands. He's on his knees in front of you, kneading on the soft flesh of your chest. Minho pinches your nipple, groaning when you let a moan escape. He's sure it's the prettiest sound he has ever listened to.
He leans over you, taking your lips into his. The way he kisses you stays the same, calm and gentle. He trails wet kisses down your jaw, to your neck, seizing the opportunity to mark you with his teeth, something he loves to do and that's the closest he has ever been to your chest until today. He goes down tracing kisses till he's in front of your breasts, Minho kisses the hill between them and attaches his mouth to the right one, still massaging the left one, pinching the bud eventually because likes to hear you whimper and sigh.
Your hands go to his hair, pressing him against your chest. You have your eyes closed shut, probably an unflattering face of pure pleasure but you really don't care. Minho sucks at your other breast before going down, trailing wet kisses down your stomach.
You're embarrassed, no one has ever seen you so vulnerable like that and you really want to have him go down on you but you're a bit scared since your friends always talk about how guys find it a hassle to go down on girls. You know Minho is not an asshole, he won't want you to do the same to him if he can't pleasure you first.
“Can I?” He asks when he notices your hesitancy, his fingers are hooked at the waistband of your sweats, playing with the elastic while you decide if you'll let him continue.
“You don't have to feel obligated”, you bite on your bottom lip, not very sure on what to do next.
“I don't, I really want to do it”, he says, but seeing as you don't look like you believe him, he chuckles. “Chan said he really enjoys going down on his girlfriend, I wanted to try it since we started dating but didn't know how to ask”, you can see his ears turning a dark shade of red, making your heart beat faster.
You nod, feeling more nervous than before.
“Can we kiss a little bit more?” You ask and he nods frantically.
“We don't have to do anything tonight if you're not ready”, he says, hovering over you and kissing your neck.
“I'm ready”, you cup his face, making him look at you. “I'm just nervous”, you chuckle awkwardly.
“It's fine”, he gives you a peek on the lips. “Should we move to the bed?” He asks and you nod, getting up as Minho collects your things and his, following you to his bedroom.
It takes you half an hour of making out to grab Minho's hand and pull it down to your core, you lift the waistband of your sweats and panties so his hand can find your soaked pussy. He slides one of his fingers between your folds gathering your slick and pressing it on your clit.
“Is it good like this?” He asks, even though your face should give it in right away that he's pleasuring you.
“Yes, please don't stop”, you put your hands on his arms, digging your nails on his skin. Minho chuckles, doing what you asked but also adding another finger, making you open your eyes in an instant to stare at him with wide eyes. “Oh”, it's the only thing you can let out when you feel the knot forming on your lower stomach.
He kisses you, turning the experience into something much more deeper. By the way he kisses you, no longer the calm and gentle but now an eager and hungry kiss, you can feel how urgent he's feeling, how much he wants you and that's enough to make you come on his fingers.
You take a few deep breaths before opening your eyes just to witness your boyfriend putting his fingers into his mouth and licking them clean. You gulp, feeling a burn run through your body.
“Can I go down on you now?” He asks, eyeing you eagerly and you nod, still too dazed by your orgasm.
Minho doesn't lose time, moving to your bottom part and pulling off your pants and underwear with him. He looks at your pussy enamored, like you're the prettiest creature he has ever seen and that makes you embarrassed, moving your hands to cover yourself but your boyfriend shakes his head, preventing you from continuing.
“Don't cover yourself. You're so beautiful, I have no words to describe it”, he tells you, eyes so sincere you can't even tease him about lying.
You nod once more, laying down comfortably as he trails kisses up your legs. Minho kisses your ankles, then your calves. He follows the path to your knees, kissing the inside of each and then going to your thighs, doing the same thing. When he leans down on your core, you hold your breath, feeling his hitting on your skin. You have goosebumps all over your body when he kisses your clit, making you sigh and let go.
Minho licks a huge strip between your folds, gathering all the juice he can get on his tongue, enjoying your taste. You moan loudly, earning a glance from him, he was so concentrated by his own pleasure on feeling your pussy on his mouth that he forgot to check what was your reaction and he's glad to find that you're enjoying yourself, hands flying to his hair as you pull him more into your cunt. He keeps licking your clit, sucking and even biting just to make you shudder glaring at him. He chuckles every time, making the vibrations stimulate you even more.
Minho puts on a finger, testing the water to see how you react, he puts on another one when you look unbothered by just one, earning a reaction from you as you whine and moan. You can feel your second orgasm of the night being ripped out of you, as he intensifies his sucking on your clit and his fingers thrusting inside you.
You let out the louder couple of moans of the night, holding onto the sheets for dear life as you tremble and arch your back in pleasure. You're absolutely fucked out and have no idea how Minho can keep going, his hair is a mess and his lips are swollen, his face is covered on your juice from his mouth until his chin. When he kisses you again, you can feel your own taste on his tongue, making you groan.
You can feel his hardness pressing against your leg. He still has his pants on looking painfully tight.
“You wanna keep going?” He asks and you nod, biting on your lip. “I think Chan has some condoms stocked, I'm gonna take a look”, he starts moving out of the bed but you hold his wrist, pulling him back to you.
“I'm on the pill”, you bite on your bottom lip, “I’ve been taking it since we started dating”, you prop yourself up, leaning on your elbows as you kiss him, “wanna feel you”, you say, making his breath hitch and his face turns red.
He nods, blinking a few times before leaning over to kiss you once more. His body hovers over yours as he positions himself between your legs, his cock teasing your entrance carefully.
“If it hurts, tell me”, he checks with you for the last time and you nod. He starts pushing his cock inside you, your hands are holding him by the shoulders, digging your nails on him but he doesn't seem to mind.
He closes his eyes briefly, feeling your velvet walls squeezing him so much it's hard to keep going. Minho stops when he hears you sniff, opening his eyes just to find your eyes full of tears and trembling lips.
“Am I hurting you? You should say it if I am”, he scolds you gently, something only he can do.
“The first time is supposed to hurt”, you explain.
“But I can do something to make it hurt less if you tell me what you're feeling”, he kisses your forehead, having all the care to not move inside you.
“You're already making it so much more comfortable”, you smile, kissing his nose.
“Maybe you should be on top, that way you can have the control”, he tells you and you ponder for a minute, nodding.
He pulls out of you, making you whine to the sudden loss, making you feel empty. Minho chuckles, kissing you before laying down to watch you be the one to come on top of him.
You grab his cock, position it in your entrance and push it in. You're much more brave than him, Minho thinks, but also you're the one who knows how much pain you can handle so it's only right for you to have the control — at least on your first time.
You sink down on his cock slowly, making him grab the sheets rather than your hips, too afraid to put too much pressure on you and hurt you. Your face tells him you're in pain, but he knows there's not much he can do about it other than soothe you. So he caresses your back with one hand and your face with the other, sliding his hands to your breasts and kneading at them so you can at least relax a bit.
When you finally have all of him inside of you, you sigh, staying still for a couple of minutes. Minho feels like he can explode at any second, you're squeezing him like crazy but he doesn't want to hurry you so he waits for you to move.
You start grinding on him, rubbing your clit on his pelvic bone and trying to relax the most. After a while the pain is almost not perceptible and you start riding him at a fast pace.
“Fuck, you feel so good”, Minho says, finally grabbing at your hips to pull you down on him.
You can't really form coherent sentences, so the chant of “ah-ah-ah” followed by your kisses on him and you marking his chest is the biggest form of communication you can manage at the moment.
Minho thinks you're the prettiest person he has ever seen, he thought that the moment your eyes lock for the first time and he'll think that until you two are too old to remember what you ate the day before.
When he feels like he's about to cum, he warns you and you nod to let him know you understand but keeps sinking down on him even deeper. He paints your walls white while trembling, his bottom lip stuck between his bunny teeth as he holds your hips with such strength that you know it's gonna bruise. But you don't mind, not at all.
You didn't cum this time, it wasn't as painful as it could be but still painful enough to not edge you.
“I'm sorry you didn't finish”, he pouts as you pull out of him and snuggle yourself in his arms.
“You made me come twice”, you chuckle, making him smile before kissing the top of your head.
“But I wanted to do it a third time”, he huffs.
“We have all the time in the world”, you tell him, resting your chin on his chest as you watch him grin.
“Yes, now you're mine forever”, he giggles to your widened eyes.
“Should I be worried?” You ask and he shakes his head.
“You were already mine from the start, you just didn't know it yet”, he kisses you, pulling away just to stare at you for a few seconds. “I love you”, he confesses and you feel your cheeks burning.
“I love you”, you say, closing the distance between the two of you and kissing him again.
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yuquinzel · 1 day
Text
— nobody’s business.
feat. itoshi sae. a little sensual. 700+ wc. self indulgent :> publicizing your relationship with japan’s star player.
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itoshi sae is holding onto your hand, a little more firmly than ever before. teal eyes out ahead on the field in front of you both searching for something you can’t name. you follow his gaze— it’s on the bleachers first, then hastily eyeing every player on the pitch. it’s on the spectators one second, then it’s on the cameras panning and zooming in from every direction.
sae grimaces when one such camera directs at the two of you, pulling you behind and away from the prying eyes of the media eager to catch just a glimpse of japan’s prized player and his partner who he keeps oh so hidden from the world.
he’s never denied being in a relationship. never tried to refute dating allegations with a non-celebrity, never once fazed to address the blurred pictures of him making out with someone in his car, never tried to hide the bruises on his neck that catch the eye of every fan leaving nobody wondering what it really is. he knows what they’ll do once they really know who you are— the paparazzi wouldn’t fucking leave you alone, following you everywhere. magazines would be willing to kill to get just one word from you and twist it to their likings. sae’s discreet with his words though, never gives them something to work with.
it was not until you addressed it to him yourself. just another article surfacing all around social media. something that had left a bitter taste on your tongue. ‘ itoshi sae and his supposed girlfriend ! ’ — it’s a picture of sae with a model you don’t know the name of, attending an event you weren’t invited to. he looks clearly unimpressed. but it helps little when every single comment under the article is how of well the two look together.
how well itoshi sae looks with someone who’s not you.
“you’ve already denied the rumours, so then why...” you’d said, avoiding his gaze for reasons you can’t pinpoint. “they always make up shit to write when their lukewarm ass doesn’t have real shit to sell.” he’d answered, “don’t think much about it. they’ll forget about it soon.”
when you didn’t say anything back, sae had known what he was to do. he’d known what it was you were asking of him with your silence. and for you, he was more than willing.
he’s sure a few cameras would’ve captured him with you by now, your face clear and beautiful for everyone to see and engrave on their papers and headlines. they’ll adorn you with pretty words and pretty adjectives, and he’ll have to share you with the eyes of the world now. something about it leaves a bitter flavor on his tongue, so he kisses you instead to taste the sweetness of your lips.
“don’t take your eyes off me,” he rasps between the kisses, one hand coming to cradle your jaw while the other hooks around your waist. “look at only me.”
“only you.” you say and sae breathes you in. he leans down closer, lips moving against yours more desperately than ever. he’s pleased with your answer. phantom touches of his hands slithering under your shirt and tracing the skin of your abdomen.
you forget about the match about to start in a mere minutes, about the cameras still desperate to get one glimpse of this very scene, and if you do remember that his teammates would march out any second now— sae makes you forget about everyone else when he tugs on your bottom lip lightly, “afraid? ” he challenges you with a long, languid glide of his tongue, “of what? I’m the only thing on your mind. ”
later when the game ends with the final pass from sae leading to a goal, the camera pans to you sitting in the vip section and cheering for sae and his team. another pans to sae when he notices you on the screen. sae ignores the roars of the crowd, ignores his teammates gathering around him, screaming for their win. he looks at you, waiting intently. you know what he’s asking of you — did you watch? he shifts forward ever so slightly — was i good?
you’re smiling as you mouth a clear I’m so proud of you — and only then does sae feels like he’s won.
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© yuquinzel2023 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]
why am I posting this it's a year old 🧘🏻‍♀️🧘🏻‍♀️
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afterglowsainz · 11 hours
Text
i'mgonnagetyouback pt. 2 | max verstappen
part 1
summary: max is determined to win y/n back before leaving las vegas and an unexpected reunion at the hotel's pool might be just what he needed
warnings: none
word count: 1.5k
a/n: okay so i wasn't actually planning on doing a part 2 to this but a few people requested it and since i'm a pathological people pleaser here it its !!
the tortured athletes department series
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“okay so, step one.” charles’s voice caughts his attention.
if max was gonna get y/n back, he needed to do it that weekend, she was leaving for her other tour dates and he had other races, and he needed a plan. that’s where charles, daniel and lando come in.
“break up with your girlfriend.” the monegasque continues. the other two men in the room nod, agreeing with the ferrari driver.
the second y/n’s concert finished, max felt the urge to go running backstage to her just like old times, but his plans were interrupted by the women he went to the concert with in the first place. his girlfriend wanted nothing more than to go back to the hotel and her daughter was too exhausted to even walk in a straight line, so he took them both to the hotel and then ran into charles’s room to create a plan, calling daniel and lando to join them.
“you’re right.” max says.
the thought of breaking up with his current girlfriend has been on the back of his mind for a while now. he didn’t really wanted to accept it, but he’s been in love with y/n all this time and it just wasn’t fair to be with someone else. step one was the most urgent.
“step two, call y/n and tell her that you wanna talk to her.” daniel speaks this time.
this one was the step he was the most nervous about. they haven’t talked for ten months and now suddenly he was thinking of getting back together, i mean, what if she moved on already? just because he hasn’t doesn’t mean she didn’t either; but he remembered her singing a few hours ago about getting him back, even if it was just to punch him in the face. he would take what he can get.
“maybe mention that you went to see her show as well.” lando adds.
“what if she thinks i’m a creep or something?” charles gives him an incredulous look.
“mate, come on, you’re her ex, not some random dude.” max nods again and felt the stress of anticipation already creeping in.
“it’ll be fine, max, nothing to worry about.” daniel tries to reassure him and lando smiles at him in the same way.
he exhales and stands up from the chair he was seated on.
“i should go back to my room. start things with the right foot.” they all agree with him and wish him good luck.
when he got back to his room, he saw his girlfriend’s daughter already asleep on her bed and his girlfriend laying down and watching something on tv. he prepared himself internally and went into the room.
“hey.” he says. “can we talk?”
he was quick. it was as uncomfortable as breaking up with someone is, but he felt a bit relieved after. she tried to persuade him into thinking about it, he said he didn’t want to hurt her. he told her they could stay at that room and he would just ask for another at the reception, she agreed. she asked if this was because of y/n, he stayed silent for a moment. he couldn’t lie, not that it was all already out there, and y/n was not a secret he had to hide to anyone. he said yes. she asked him to get out. he did.
max went down to the hotel’s reception and asked for an extra room. since it was a bit late at night they asked him to wait an hour until they arranged one of the suites for him. he agreed without complaining and was about to head back to charles’s room, however, already on the elevator he impulsively pressed the button for the last floor that took him directly to the pool. it was dark and there was no one there, the dim lights on the inside of the pool being the only lightning.
he walked over to the balcony and admired the view of las vegas beneath him, from his position he could see the whole downtown, including the track that he would be driving that weekend. if he wouldn’t have been too distracted he would have heard the sound of small steps going his way, stopping right at the entrance.
you thought you were seeing things, or that you had gone mad. you blink twice, and when he didn’t disappear, you knew max verstappen was standing right in front of you. you could recognize him anywhere.
the uncomfortable burning feeling of being looked at got the best of him and he finally turned around. he didn’t say anything, thinking it was his imagination playing games, but it wasn’t, you were right there, just mere inches away from him.
“y/n.” was all he could say. he figured a hello would be the way to go. “hey.”
you looked just as shocked as he was, but that didn’t stop you from answering.
“hi, max.” your voice was more confident than how you actually felt.
you had just done a three hour show and just wanted to relax a bit in the pool before going back to your room, and now you were there, facing your ex-boyfriend.
“you’re staying here?” he asks, regretting it instantly because of course you were.
“yeah.” you answer, not moving a single centimeter. “i have a few shows this weekend.” you explain.
“i know.” he says, almost too quickly. you arch a brow at him but don’t say anything. “i’m racing here this weekend.” you nod.
“i know.” you copy his answer, although you take a few more moments to say it.
“i went to your show.” he says out of nowhere.
this shocks you even more than before because what does he mean he went to your show?
“what?” is all that you could mumble.
“tonight.” he clarifies. “i went to see you. i hope you don’t think that’s… inappropriate.” his eyes finally leave yours and he looks at the pool instead.
“i don’t think… why would it be inappropriate?” you ask, a bit flabbergasted still. “i don’t think that.”
he nods relieved to hear you say that.
“so you went to the show?” you ask again. “you heard me sing all those songs?” you question, a bit shy.
“yeah, it was incredible.” he smiles at you. “you’re the most talented person i know.”
this makes you blush because he still has that power over you. you couldn’t manage to thank him for the compliment, so you just smiled at him, which was enough for him.
“i liked your surprise song.” he states, more confident this time.
“oh.” you reply. “you did?” he nods. “yeah, i guess it’s a fun song.” you chuckle, knowing damn well you wrote it thinking about him.
this was it, he thought. this was the moment he had been fantasizing about since he stepped into the stadium that night. how to get y/n back? this was his opportunity to do something. no charles, daniel or lando to whisper in his ear. it was all him.
“is it true?” he questions.
“what?” you frown.
“what you were singing in the song?” he explains. “i’m not gonna flatter myself thinking you wrote it about me, but, did you?”
you bit your lip trying not to laugh. how could you confess that to him?
“are you asking me if i want you back?” he notices that you ignored his question, but he didn’t care.
“i know i do.” you looked at him for a few seconds too long, processing his answer.
“i thought you had a girlfriend?” you mumble and he shakes his head.
“we’re not together anymore.” finally, he moves slowly from the other end of the balcony toward you and you remain still. “i’ve always been yours.”
you look at him properly this time, you could see every detail of his face now with how close he was to you and you felt like the ten months you haven’t talked to him hadn’t passed at all.
“and i can understand if you moved on already, but i must tell you i haven’t, for me it has always been you.”
the reasons of why you had broken up all those months ago seemed so silly now. he wasn’t a bad guy, and you weren’t a bad person. your break up wasn’t ugly, both of you had just been too busy with your crazy schedules and you thought ending things would be for the best, but not a day had passed where you didn’t regret that decision.
max was everything, and he was here in front of you, asking for a second chance.
“and when i saw you tonight at your show and i just fell more in love if that’s even possible, and i thought of all the time we wasted and i…”
you touched his face with tenderness and cut him off with a kiss that was long due.
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yourusername viva las vegas! 🏁 incredible crowd for and incredible night ⭐️
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user1 omg best day of my life 😭
user2 night 1 post we wonnn
user3 girl we see that emoji 👀
user4 we see max in the likes too 👀
user5 please don’t start this i couldn’t take it 😩
user6 max at the concert, she posted pictures and she sung imgonnagetyouback as a surprise song, las vegas n1 really won 😭
user7 MAX WAS AT THE CONCERT ???
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liked by yourusername, schecoperez and 893.482 others
maxverstappen1 Brand new, full throttle… 🏎
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redbullracing congrats legend! 🏆
user8 the only time he smiled during this whole weekend 😭
user9 max is so me cause i also talked shit about this race only to lowkey enjoy it at the end
user10 not him using the lyrics of so high school 😭😭
user11 sir is there something we should know? 👀
yourusername who’s that grand prix winner? 😮‍💨
maxverstappen1 i love you ❤️
user12 WHAT SINCE WHEN
user13 chat is this real ???
user14 y/nstappen back together the earth is healing 🤍
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liked by francisca.cgomez, maxverstappen1 and 7.482.949 others
yourusername where’s the trophy? he just comes running over to me 💘
tagged maxverstappen1
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user15 EXCUSE ME MA’AM ???
user16 omg y/nstappen i used to pray for times like this‼️
user17 the alchemy mentioned we won !!!
user18 Y/NSTAPPEN NATION LET’S RISE
alexandrasaintmleux so happy to have you back in the paddock🫶🏽💞
yourusername girl i’m happy to be back😭
user19 the fact that he actually run over to her after winning the race ohhh i’m so normal about them 😩
user20 MAX VERSTAPPEN CAN YOU FIGHT?
maxverstappen1 could never fight the alchemy❤️
yourusername my maxxx ❤️
user21 pls they’re the cutest 😭
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apdreadful · 3 days
Text
I’ve decided that from here forward I’m writing Tommy and Buck/Evan as long term canon. In the words of Buck himself “Who cares?!”
I get the feeling that Tommy is difficult to get really angry. Mostly based on his past. And his general roll with the punches attitude thus far. So I don’t foresee a lot of strife or fighting in his future with Buck. Except the first time Tommy experiences the after of that big marshmallow Evan Buckley doing something really dangerous and reckless..again.
And Tommy who never gets angry, who never shouts at Buck, who flew a helicopter into a goddamn hurricane in the middle of the ocean, really loses his shit this time because Buck cannot understand why Tommy is so upset that he dropped into a dangerous situation against orders AGAIN.
Tommy pinches the bridge of his nose to keep from shouting “Bobby told you not to go in. He told you not to risk it. That the floors were too unstable”
“There could have been someone left” Buck replies “Someone needed to check. It had to be me”
“Why? Because you’re fucking super human? The great Buck Buckley from the 118 who scoffs at danger, has survived a tsunami, getting trapped beneath a fire truck, throwing a blood clot, and was officially dead for three minutes after getting struck by FUCKING LIGHTNING!”
“How do you know about all of that?”
“That isn’t what matters”
“I think it is” Buck takes a step toward Tommy “Have you been stalking me babe?”
Noticing the mischievous smile Tommy shakes his head “Oh no no no. You are not going to adorable your way out of this”
Bucks shoulders sag and he sighs “I’m ok Tommy. Not even a scratch”
“I can see that” Tommy lets out a deep exhale “I understand the risks of the job. I’m not like your exes who would get all distraught over you removing a cat from a tree. But for fucks sake, you are worse than the EOD guys when I was in Afghanistan with the walking - or in your case running or jumping- right into the worst case scenario with no thought of your own safety” Rubbing his forehead he continues “Evan. You’ve got a savior complex and it’s noble and selfless..”
Buck cuts him off “It’s not a savior complex. I’m not stupid. I understand that sometimes no matter what you do you can’t save them. But sometimes maybe you can, and in those cases, I just make the most sense”
Tommy crosses his arms to keep from strangling him or kissing him stupid again to shut him up “How is that? How does you possibly dying make any sense?”
“They all have people that need them. They all have someone they belong to and..” he trails off with a small shrug
And Tommy hears the words he doesn’t say. He is…expendable. And just like that all of the anger drains out of Tommy to be replaced by a something else. “Evan” he says softly.
“I know” Buck interjects “I know that people love me and they would be sad, especially Maddie. And I don’t want to die. But I don’t want someone who has someone they need, and that needs them, to die either. I couldn’t live with that”
Tommy closes his eyes. This man..How can he be so adorable and selfless, yet so completely stubborn and a pain in the ass about his own safety?
Once he calms his thoughts and finds the words he wants to say, he opens his eyes to see Evan looking at him calmly. Like he expects Tommy to see the sense in what he said.
“Evan. I know we haven’t really put a label on this. On us. But that’s because I don’t want to pressure you. I’m the first man you’ve been with and you’re still figuring out who you are, and I understand that. But let me clarify something for you. I need you to come back to me. Ok?”
Buck blinks “Huh”
“I need you to come back to me” he repeats “Like Bobby needs Athena, and Karen needs Hen, and yes like Maddie needs Chimney.
“And Jee-un. Jee-yun needs her dad”
“Yes, and in that same vein, Christopher needs Eddie” he agrees, trying not to give in to his exasperation. “I need you. I am that person who needs you to come home Evan”
Evan stops whatever he was about to say. Startled awareness creeping into his eyes..Tommy sees a mix of emotions flit across his face. Surprise, joy, fear, everything just races across that expressive face and then Evan sinks onto the barstool at his kitchen island. His hands coming up to cover his face.
Tommy’s stomach clench’s. He pushed too hard, too soon “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I do care and want you to come home but..”
Buck looks up at him “Don’t you dare take that back”
“I’m not taking it back. I just don’t want to push you”
Something else crosses Evans face at that..but he tugged at his bottom lip with his teeth. “You aren’t pushing. You aren’t pressuring me. I am in this just as much as you. I just don’t know how to say what I want to say without it sounding lame and emo as shit”
“Did you just hear me? You can say anything to me Evan. Whatever it is”
Buck rolls his bottom lip between his teeth again. “I’ve never questioned why I do this…I mean it’s the whole reason I was born. To save my brother. To save Daniel. That’s what I do, that’s who I am. It’s why I became a firefighter. To be the one who saves people. The 118 is my family. And I would do anything to protect them from harm”
“I’m not asking you to stop. I would never ask that. I just want to remind you that you matter to a lot of people, and you also have someone who is waiting for you”
Bucks voice is thick “I know that. I get that. But…Nobody has ever. I have never belonged to anyone, like that”
In a sense of deja vu Tommy closes the short distance to Buck. Tipping his face up, he kisses him. Not soft and gentle like their first kiss in this kitchen. But bold and deep. Branding Evan with his mouth. Pulling back he says fiercely “You belong to me like that. For as long as you want..you belong to me and I belong to you, like that”
“I will ALWAYS need you to come back to me Evan”
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grimm-writings · 3 days
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can i request chil eavesdropping on reader telling marcille about their crush, and getting jealous because he doesn’t realise that it’s him?
distant
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…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader
…tags! fluff, miscommunication, marcille being a gossip and izutsumi being petty
…wc! 613
…notes! making this short and sweet. hope you enjoy!! 
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Even with Chilchuck’s enhanced hearing, it’s difficult to miss Marcille’s loud gasps of shock whenever she hears anything that strikes her very core.  You and the elf like to take the chance to gossip with one another when the day comes to a close.  Chilchuck personally doesn’t get it, but that doesn’t mean he won’t tune in occasionally to something that catches his attention.
With a lowered voice, “actually,” you say, “I have something to admit…”
“Yes?” Marcille matches your volume.  Anyone else probably wouldn’t be able to listen in easily, all except Chilchuck.  What could even be so interesting that you can only discuss it this way Marcille?
“I think…  No, I know for certain I caught feelings for him,” you whisper with a dejected sigh.
Chilchuck freezes in place as he was helping clean plates from the past meal.  Izutsumi, who was joining him, spared him a glance.  Noticing this, Chilchuck quietly apologises and continues the routine.
…Izutsumi’s foul stare doesn’t stop him from listening in on the conversation more.
“Really?”  Marcille whispers, though with her excitement in tow it makes her voice sound shrill, which makes Chilchuck flinch slightly.  “You figured it out?”
“Yeah,” you respond with a sigh.  “Don’t think he likes me back– it’s like he’s giving me the cold shoulder.”
What?  Someone would be stupid enough to be cruel to you?  But you’re so sweet!  Even observing from a distance, Chilchuck has formed a bit of a soft spot for you.  He doesn’t get too close, out of his own rule of not forming interpersonal relationships.
He’d have to give that guy a piece of his mind…
“Ah, but he’s actually really sweet once you peel back the layers, you know?”  You continue, confusing Chilchuck further.  “He can be so soft, so gentle… But once he realises what he’s doing, he withdraws.  He’s so distant.”
“So he’s sending mixed signals?”  Marcille confirms.
“Mhm…”
A nasty twinge of jealousy twists in Chilchuck’s chest.  Not like he isn’t used to it when it comes to you before.  You really care for this guy?  And he’s not even being clear with what he wants?  Ugh, if only he could see him face to face!
Wait… Could it be someone like Laios?  Or Senshi?  Laios can be a little out of the loop when it comes to communication… and he wouldn’t doubt anyone would be somewhat enamoured with Senshi’s ability to care for someone.
Fixating on relationships is not what Chilchuck tends to do, but if it’s you, he wants the best for you.  He really does, but…
“Oh my God, are you stupid?”
Izutsumi’s voice breaks Chilchuck out of his thoughts, looking up at the younger girl.  Her own ear twitches, indicating she also heard the conversation.  “They’re obviously talking about you.”
Chilchuck flushes.  “What–”
“And you mock me for not being self-aware.”
“I’m not even that–!”
“Gentle?”  Izutsumi scoffs.  “Says the guy who tenderly carved a woodwork ornament for them.  Get real.”
Embarrassment fills Chilchuck up and out of his ears, opening his mouth and closing it cluelessly.  “...I’m not doing anything about it.”
“And let them believe you don’t like them at all?  Sure, go for it.”
Chilchuck purses his lips hesitantly, putting the plate away.  “If they want to confess, they will…  I won’t leave them distant.”
Izutsumi only stares with little amusement.  Relationships are her bane, but not in the way Chilchuck holds disdain for them.  They make people stupid, like how Chilchuck and you are.  She sighs wearily, finishing up the chore and returning to where she was relaxing.
You two better get over yourselves fast, if not for your own sakes, then for hers.
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foreingersgod · 1 day
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can we get something about Caitlin like after a big win of hers and her girlfriend is on court with Caitlin being all over her? think like Taylor swift and travis after the Super Bowl
Miss Americana & The HeartBreak Prince(ss) . CC
pairing: caitlin clark x reader
synopsis: even if caitlin’s the center of attention, she can’t help but focus on you
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
caitlin had been preparing for this game for months, it felt. there seemed to be endless trainings, camps, and practices just to get her ready for this moment. of course, every game to caitlin was huge, but this? this game would mark the end of her collegiate career, would give her a championship title if iowa could pull it off.
and they did.
with a massive lead of 10 points, caitlin being the top scorer of the night. they had won effortlessly and earned the championship title.
you had watched from court side all night to see your girl play. you had been to every game to support her, but you typically resided farther into the crowd to stay reserved. but recently, with more and more attention falling on caitlin, you’ve become a major hit with the media. once caitlin became a well known basketball star, everyone was curious to know all about her life outside of the sport. this included the age old question: “who is she dating?”
very quickly, you were bombarded with attention. fans commented on her posts about you, interviewers asked her about her girlfriend, everyone wanted to know all about caitlin clark’s biggest cheerleader.
you really hadn’t minded all that much. the questions and inquires about you came across as sweet in your eyes, you were actually quite flattered that all these people wanted to get to know you. but even then it still had its downsides. upon caitlin’s managers request, you were to be in the eye of the public with caitlin as much as possible. this meant doing things like sitting court side for every game even if you didn’t particularly want to. caitlin, of course, loved the idea. she jumped at any opportunity to show you off and talk about you whenever she could. so to her, it was no problem.
once the game had ended, your hands red from clapping and cheeks sore from cheering, you watched as the team celebrated together. watching your girl hold that trophy with the biggest smile on her face was the most heartwarming thing. you let them have their moment before anxiously stepping onto the court to meet caitlin. perhaps it was the excitement from the win or maybe it was just the pure eagerness to see her, but you were practically running across the court to get to her.
“cait!” you shouted from a distance, trying to catch her attention from across the floor.
she spotted you in a split second. caitlin would recognize your voice from anywhere. quickly, she handed the trophy off to someone else, excusing herself from the conversation to go over to you. you met half way, caitlin scooping you up into her arms causing you to balance on your tip toes. her arms locked around you, nose burying itself into the crook of your neck, taking in your scent.
“hey baby” her lips curled into a smile that you could feel again your jawline.
“you were absolutely amazing” you maneuvered to take her face into your hands, admiring her face. sweat and messy hair included, she looked so radiant and beautiful. you pushed up the bill of her championship hat and brushed stray hairs away, allowing yourself to take in her full appearance. “I’ve never been so proud of someone in my life!”
“you don-” she wanted to protest humbly, but was rudely interrupted.
it was like a swarm of bees. interviewers and cameramen surrounded you, lights flashing and microphones being shoved into your faces. many of them were shouting incoherent questions all while trying to grab your attention. your sweet moment was ruined, it was time to face the crowd.
“caitlin, tell us about your big win!”
“is this your girlfriend? caitlin, over here!”
“the fans want to hear from the new it couple!”
they were all shouting, trying to get an ounce of attention from her. you could tell by the look on her face that she just wanted to ask them to leave, but you also knew she would rather endure the exhausting interviews than tell anyone ‘no’. so she swung her arm around your shoulder, causing you to stumble into her side, to keep you close to her.
“it was a really great game…” she began talking about the game, all the interviewers listening attentively.
caitlin spent quite a bit of time giving run downs and talking strategies for the game, letting people ask her questions about what it felt like to be in the spotlight. the whole time, though, her arms never left you. she would occasionally rub your arm to ease the anxiety of having all the cameras on you, maybe sometimes move down to your waist just to pull you in even closer.
you sort of zoned out, putting yourself in autopilot to avoid panicking over the lights and shouting journalists. nothing caitlin said to any one of them you really heard, but somewhere in the sea of questions, you heard your name.
“and who’s this here with you? is this YN?”
suddenly, you were back in the game, completely engaged in the conversation. you looked over to see caitlin smiling down at you with the most goofy grin.
“yea,” she said “yea this is my girlfriend, YN”
you looked out into the vastness of the cameras, all of them pointing at you, as you proffered a small smile. it was still a process, getting used to being the center of all the madness.
caitlin continued before anyone could ask you something, knowing you weren’t ready to answer any questions quite yet.
“she’s the one i owe all this to,” her arm squeezed you, reminding you to take a deep breath and relax “she’s by my side day and night, giving me all of her support. i wouldn’t be anywhere without her so for that, i dedicate this win to her”
leaning down closer to your level, caitlin’s hand cradled your jaw to pull you in for a gentle kiss. it caught you off guard realizing that she was openly being intimate with you in front of everyone. but you trusted her judgment, letting yourself relax into the kiss.
of course, everyone went crazy, all happy that they had media coverage of the popular couple.
this was going to be all over instagram tomorrow.
after a few more questions and a several pictures of you two standing side by side, they dispersed to pester some other players. it was finally just the you and caitlin again, able to have a moment to yourselves.
“getting a bit risky with that kiss, huh?” you draped your arms over her shoulders.
“had to let everyone know how much i love you s’all” she shrugged, pressing another delicate kiss to your forehead. “i’d never pass up an opportunity to show you off, you know that”
“i do” you said, smiling at her. despite all the chaos around you, people still buzzing with excitement, confetti still lingering in the air, endless fans, it still felt like just you. just you and caitlin immersed in each other. “i love you so much”
“i love you a thousand times more”
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andavs · 2 days
Text
I really wish Buck’s big arc last season had been the leadership thing that they started out with. The sperm donor and death arcs didn’t really go anywhere or change anything for him, when a leadership arc could’ve led to a lot of tangible growth.
It started off great, with Buck getting pissy about not being interim captain. It showed exactly why he shouldn’t be captain anytime soon: he acts on emotions first and logic second, especially when he perceives something to be a personal judgment against him. That isn’t the person you want leading a team, and Mr “I cannot handle anyone else getting hurt” is clearly not someone who’s comfortable sending other people into danger, which is part of being a captain.
But then it got completely dropped until the finale, which…didn’t really tie into leadership anyway. He just ran around saving everyone himself. He wasn't actually leading anyone or doing any kind of real, on scene coordinating like a captain would—Maddie did more of that than he did.
This arc could've continued all season in the background and involved the whole team, with Bobby giving Buck opportunities to take point and give him feedback. Chim could’ve talked about why he didn’t like being captain, Eddie could’ve talked about his experience as a staff sergeant in the military, Bobby’s early years as a captain, he could’ve talked to Hen who was chosen as interim captain. 
If he’d gotten actual, tangible feedback from the people around him, he could’ve gone through so much conscious development and growth that would affect every part of his life. He could’ve worked on taking a second before reacting to a situation to think it through, which is something that has repeatedly gotten him into trouble. He could’ve learned how hard it is to send the people you love and care about into danger, especially when one of those people disobeys orders and goes off half-cocked.
If we'd seen him spend all season learning that and then in the end he took command, actually acted as the IC, and coordinated with other houses to save his team, that would've felt more like an actual arc that impacted him, his life, and how he functions on the job.
Maybe he could’ve overlooked something that another captain caught to really drive home that he isn’t ready yet, but he would still have that knowledge and experience to use in the future, even if he isn’t captain anytime soon. We could see him coordinating or helping out where necessary. He could be Hen’s 2IC when she’s the captain. He could use those skills to problem solve in all areas and see the bigger picture, something he’s always struggled with.
I’m just annoyed that what could’ve been a great season backbone and a vehicle for the growth and maturity that Buck keeps missing got ignored for sperm donation and a death arc that didn’t lead to anything.
188 notes · View notes
pomefioredove · 3 days
Note
Hi! This is very very specific, but…I've had a rough start to my day today, kinda relating to the topic of my request…
So I was wondering, would it be alright to request HCs of Jamil, Ruggie, Leona, Floyd and Rollo with a Reader who runs into an emotionally abusive/manipulative parent they haven't seen in a long time? The kind of subtle abuse that's hard to tell (from the inside, at least) is even abuse at all, and makes you doubt yourself a lot. Kinda narcissistic abuse
Kind of a hurt/comfort thing? Like how they'd deal with the bad parent and the Reader opening up a bit about it. Romantic or platonic, either one is good
Feel more than free to ignore if this kind of request isn't your thing: that's totally fine, I understand it's a bit heavy, not to mention very specific, so please do what makes you feel best. I hope you have a good day!
ahhh of course! I relate to this sort of thing a lot (although I don't use terms like narcissistic abuse since abuse is just abuse to me) and I know exactly what you mean. I love hurt/comfort and you're well within my boundaries since the only thing I wouldn't write pertaining to this topic is intimate partner abuse (like with an s/o). so you're perfectly fine! I enjoyed writing this <3
summary: comforting a reader with an abusive parent type of post: short fics characters: jamil, ruggie, leona, floyd, rollo additional info: reader is not specified to be yuu ("shrimpy" is used as a nickname during floyd's part tho), reader is gender neutral, food mention (ruggie's part), actual interaction w the parent happens during leona and rollo's parts, mentions/descriptions of emotional abuse, although reader is kinda vague about it
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Jamil Viper
Jamil knows what it's like to feel stuck.
That's really all he has to know when he recognizes that look on your face.
Perhaps you usually wear your heart on your sleeves, or perhaps you're better at keeping your emotions to yourself, like him, but either way he can tell something is very wrong the second he sees you.
It's a bit strange, isn't it?
Surrounded by people in the cafeteria and yet no one seems to notice the shadow cast over you.
He tries to talk himself out of it for the rest of the day. He has enough on his plate as it is, and it's not his problem. He's Kalim's keeper, not yours.
But that sense of unease doesn't go away.
He drags himself out of bed and somehow finds himself at your door in the dead of night.
And even though it takes you a moment to answer, he can tell you were already awake.
"Here," he says, handing you a warm meal in a container. "I noticed you didn't eat today. We had leftovers."
You don't feel very much like eating, but you accept the gift, anyway. It smells amazing. His cooking always does.
"Thank you," you mumble.
You can't think of anything else to say.
"Are you... well, Kalim sent me to ask if you're feeling unwell," he lies through his teeth.
"I'm fine,"
Another lie, this time of your behalf, which annoys him ever-so-slightly.
"You're clearly not. Are you sick?" the question is vague enough, said in such a way that leaves you with the impression that he wasn't exactly referring to a physical illness.
"I've... had a rough day,"
Jamil is quiet for a moment, thinking to himself. And then: "Do you mind if I come in?"
He's always so careful with his words that such a direct (yet polite) request almost catches you off guard. You step to the side, letting him in your room.
"I don't mean to pry. I know it's not my place," he says, watching you close the door. "But... Kalim is worried. Yes."
You shake your head. "It's fine. I'll get over it,"
It.
What did "it" mean? Surely this couldn't just be a lousy day.
"Did something happen?"
You hesitate.
"Have you ever... ran into someone who made your life miserable? That you thought you moved on from... and it starts to feel like you're stuck in that place all over again?"
Of course. Of course he knows what that feels like.
He has to live through that exact experience every day, without even being able to move on.
But he can't just say that. And this is about you, after all.
"I'm familiar with the feeling. I suppose that's what's ruined your day, then?"
"That's one way to put it," you sigh, sitting at the edge of your bed. "Sometimes it feels like all the progress I've made is just... null. Like I'll never really move on."
He hates how much he's relating to you. How much you're affecting him, now, too.
He follows you to the bed and sits beside you.
"Someday, though, you will. It may feel hopeless now, but... you won't stay stuck forever,"
Unlike me, he thinks.
"How can you be so sure?"
"I can't be. But you don't strike me as someone to give up after hardship,"
Like me.
You're quiet for a moment, seemingly considering what he told you. And then you hug him.
A nice, soft hug. Not abrasive or sudden like the ones Kalim gives. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like.
"Thank you, Jamil,"
He hugs back. "Of course,"
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Ruggie Bucchi
It was almost painful, watching you fumble with your wallet like that.
You couldn't seem to get the proper amount out, shaking like a leaf and apologizing profusely. Sam keeps telling you it's okay, but the line forming behind you is starting to grow restless.
Ruggie included.
He has places to be, after all, and he's got two whole crates of energy drinks to lug back to Savanaclaw.
He has half a mind to ask what the holdup is.
And so, he peers over your shoulder, ready to- oh, no. You're crying.
Damn it. Why can't things ever be easy for him?
He can't even chew someone out for taking up all his precious time without being thrown a curveball. And now he feels bad.
Sigh.
"Hey, I got this," he says, setting his heavy crates down on the counter and flashing a card.
Your eyes widen. "Oh, no, Ruggie, you don't have to-"
"Relax, it's Leona's money, not mine," he offers a grin, ignoring the tears trailing down your face. "He won't even notice it's missing."
The line behind you two breathes a collective sigh of relief (much to your embarrassment) and Ruggie shoots them a glare.
"I... I still can't accept this-" you start, before he quickly shushes you.
"Hey, if you wanna make it up to me, you can help me carry these things. I'll call it even,"
You're silent for a moment as Sam finishes ringing you both up, and then you take a crate. As quiet as ever. It's unnerving.
You're walking back to the Hall of Mirrors when Ruggie breaks that silence by bringing up your purchase. "So, what's up with the afternoon snack? Not that I'm judging- I'm jealous. I skipped lunch, shishishi,"
"Oh, it's nothing," you mutter. "Comfort food, I guess."
The concept of comfort food is extremely appealing to him. "Huh. Long day?"
"Something like that... Why'd you skip lunch?"
Trying to change the conversation topic? Clever. But he'll bite, anyway.
"Leona forgot some of his class stuff, so I had 'ta run and get it. Too bad he forgot where he left it... I was all over campus,"
"Did you find it?"
"Eventually. Or else I'd be busy getting my neck wrung instead of 'bein here with you,"
You nod, and the conversation swiftly dies.
After another awkward beat, he clears his throat. "So you... you wanna talk about it, or something?"
"What?"
"You know, your... your day," he mutters, shrugging. He's desperately trying to remember all of the things his grandma did for him when he was upset as a child. "Talking about it might... make 'ya feel better, y'know?"
You're quiet again, and for a moment Ruggie is worried he said something to offend you.
Then, much to his relief, your voice picks up. "I ran into someone today,"
"What? Like someone was giving you trouble?"
"No, not a student. Someone I don't see very much anymore. Um... I guess it just threw me off,"
He tilts his head to the side. "Why?"
"I don't... well, we don't get along very much. Something about them just makes me feel... very... small. Insignificant,"
You don't ask if he understands what you mean, but he does. Not that he'd ever admit that so openly to you at a time like this, but being small and insignificant is basically his job.
And as much as he likes the perks, he can imagine how rough it would be to deal with that and not get to use a bottomless credit card whenever the opportunity presented itself.
He struggles to respond for a moment.
"That's rough,"
Definitely not the sympathetic response he was going for. At least you don't seem to mind.
"I-I mean, sometimes we have to act small to survive. It's a part of life, 'ya know? But that doesn't mean you are small. Just surviving on its own is an accomplishment," he recovers from his earlier blunder, trying to smile. "You should be proud of yourself, if anything."
"That's..." you say. "That's one way of looking at it."
He sighs. "I'm not expressing myself very well, am I? What I'm trying to say is that you're not small or insignificant, and living life feeling like you are is a survival tactic at best,"
The both of you stop in front of Savanaclaw, and he offers another grin.
"And if you ever wanna talk about this stuff... well, I'm around... And you can come inside now, if you want. I could definitely find more stuff to carry!"
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Leona Kingscholar
Leona Kingscholar is very, very much enjoying parent weekend alone, thank you.
Of course his folks don't want to attend a school event for their disappointment of a second son. Why would they care? And on Cheka's birthday weekend, no less...
But that didn't bother him. Not at all.
As long as he slept through the weekend without being bothered by any happy-go-lucky nuclear family units, he'd live.
That plan lasts about five hours.
"You'd be better off doing something more useful with your time. Sports, or science, or... something that might help your future. But if you're so sure... I suppose it's better to cut our losses now than put any more faith in you. You just can never decide, can you?"
That voice. Unfamiliar, but drawling, laced with poison. Aggravating enough to stir Leona from his nap in the botanical gardens.
And it's getting closer.
"I just don't understand. Why get accepted into one of the most prestigious schools in the world just to spend your time goofing off?" a long sigh. "But as long as you're happy... we just want what's best for you."
Leona grumbles, turning over and trying to drift back to sleep.
"I'm trying,"
This voice is different. No- he recognizes it. It's yours.
"Are you? You know I know what's best for you, right?"
Sevens. This is your parent speaking to you? No wonder you've been acting all jittery lately.
He sits up, giving up on his nap, and continues listening in.
"I know," you say. "I really am trying, though."
"Did I say you weren't? Don't speak for me,"
This is getting ugly. Leona stands, stepping out of the shrubbery and clearing his throat behind the two of you.
You're the first to turn. "Oh- Leona! Sorry, we didn't mean to disturb you,"
"You're fine," he snaps, sharp eyes turning to your parent beside you. "Who's this, then?"
"This is-"
"Their parent," they go ahead and introduce themselves, cutting you off as if you weren't speaking at all. Like you're a piece of furniture hanging in the background. He's not a fan.
"Really? From the way you were talking, I would have guessed that you were their coach. Or boss,"
Your eyes dart between the two. "Leona-"
"You're fine," he reaffirms. "I was just looking for you, anyway. We really have to talk."
You pause, raising an eyebrow. He? Wants to talk to you? Now?
"Is it important?" your parent asks. The question is directed at you, although he answers.
"Very. I was just coming to ask you, very politely, I might add, to reconsider my offer,"
"Your... offer...?"
Your parent looks down at you. "What's he talking about?"
"Can't blame you for forgetting. I'm sure you're busy with all your... school... things. But I do have to ask you to rejoin the spelldrive club. We're in shambles without you,"
He gives you a certain look, one that clearly reads "Go along with it."
Leona Kingscholar offering an olive branch to someone is a rare occurrence. So you take it.
"Oh! Right, I have been busy with school. I've been meaning to get back to you..."
Your parent looks between the two of you with just the faintest hint of confusion, and then frustration. "You've been playing spelldrive? When was I going to hear about this?"
"They haven't been playing with us," Leona says, a small smirk already forming. "They're the team manager. They're way too smart to be out on the field- no, they're running the team, they're organizing everything, their strategy is like nothing we've ever seen. If only they were in Savanaclaw, we might have a chance at winning one of these years."
"Uhhh..." you start, looking between your parent and the oddly friendly and receptive clone that's replaced Leona. "...Yeah, right."
"Now, if you'll excuse us, we really have to discuss official club matters," he says, shooing away your parent until they eventually give in and leave.
As soon as they're out the door, you turn to him. "What w-"
"Are you alright?" he asks.
Stunned would be an understatement. "I'm fine,"
"Really? Cause you're looking at me like a gazelle caught in headlights,"
"I-I guess it's just been hard... having them here,"
Leona nods, closing his eyes as he thinks to himself. Then, he sighs.
"Yeah. I get that. Come on, then,"
You raise an eyebrow as he starts off in the opposite direction. "What? Where are we going?"
"Somewhere quiet and warm to nap. Being around that person sucked all the energy right out of me, I can't imagine how exhausted you feel,"
He turns to look over his shoulder with a smile. "With any luck, we'll avoid them for the rest of the weekend,"
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Floyd Leech
Of course, he can tell something's up right away.
Well... maybe it takes him a little while to tune into the conversation, but once he does, he notices you've been... awfully quiet throughout it.
His favorite little shrimpy? All sad? Moping around like a kicked puppy?
Now this catches his attention.
"Bored?" he asks. It's his first guess.
"Hm?" you ask, looking back at him. "No, I'm fine."
"But you're not,"
"Okay, I'm a little distracted,"
Now that, he can understand. But there's still something very off about the whole thing that he can't quite put his finger on.
"You're not telling me something," he states, matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.
You raise an eyebrow. "...And?"
"And I wanna know. I'm not letting you leave until you tell me,"
Your thought process is probably ranging somewhere between "oh, no," and "oh NO," by now.
"I sweaaar, it's nothing," you insist. "I just had a bad day, okay?"
"Why?"
There's no turning back now. He's invested, and until he loses interest, you're stuck here.
"It was... just... long. Can I go now? I have things to do,"
He frowns, and stands, and then puts you in a headlock. "Alright, where're we 'goin?"
"FLOYD!"
He drags you along with him, remembering not to be too rough as he takes you from place to place on his dailies. You begrudgingly learn to accept it.
When you walk back into the Mostro Lounge, Azul and Jade don't even bat an eye.
"You're thirty minutes late- ah, why do I bother?" Azul says, rifling through a stack of papers on his desk. He only looks up when he catches a glimpse of you. "Oh. Hello, there."
You wave half-heartedly. "Can I get some help?"
"Floyd. What is the meaning of this?" he asks.
Floyd pouts. "There's 'somethin wrong with them and they won't tell me what,"
"Are they ill?"
You lower your eyes at the two as they speak like you're not even there. "Hello?"
"Nah, they feel fine. They're all mopey, though,"
Azul hums to himself, lost in thought. And then: "Well, figure out what it is, and get to work, if you please,"
"Azul!" you shout. He ignores you.
Floyd drags you back outside the office and sits down with you at one of the tables, waving to concerned lounge-goers as they pass by.
"Now will you tell me?"
"Geez, alright, alright. I give up, you win," you sigh. "I... well, my parent was here earlier. At school. And we talked, and they... said some not-very-nice things to me. That's why I've been upset, okay?"
Floyd's smile immediately drops. "I win? But that's not a very good prize,"
"Tell me about it,"
"Why would anyone be mean to you, anyway? You're the best shrimpy I know!"
You avert your eyes. "It wasn't... mean... per se. Just... not nice,"
"Sounds mean to me," he mutters. "I don't get it."
"Well, sometimes these things just... don't make sense. It's my fault, anyway," you sigh.
His gaze sharpens at that. "'An who told you that? You didn't do anything! I'm starting to really dislike this parent of yours,"
His sudden mood swing doesn't phase you, but it does lift your spirits... just the tiniest bit. Even if you wouldn't admit that to yourself. "Hey, it's fine. I'm over it,"
"You sure you don't want me to squeeze 'em?"
"Heh. No, that's okay. I would like you to let me go, though,"
His eyes widen at the sudden realization he still has you in a headlock and he quickly releases you.
You sit up, stretching and rubbing the back of your neck. "Thanks,"
"My arm was starting to hurt, anyway..." he thinks for a moment, looking back to the office door. "Ya think I can use that to get out of working? I wanna spend more quality time with my favorite shrimpy. You could use it!"
You look to the door and shrug. "Hey, worth a try, right?"
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Rollo Flamme
Out of all the things to ruin the day, of course it had to be your parent.
The disappointment between the two of you was palpable. And even though it was only a brief encounter, it was enough to sour the rest of the afternoon for the both of you.
The first thing Rollo noticed, of course, was the manner in which they carried themselves. As an authoritative, important figure, puffing out their chest and towering over you. What gave them the right...?
They were not a leader, nor a public figure, nor anyone of interest, if your earlier mentions of them gave him any idea. Nothing but an adult who spoke to the both of you as if you were tiny children.
He loathed being talked down to.
Perhaps he should have said something sooner than he did, and perhaps he should have said something more than the interruption he used to excuse you from the conversation.
And now you're just quiet.
"Are you well?" he asks, looking at you from the corner of his eyes.
You shrug.
"I apologize for not speaking on your behalf sooner. I did not want to be rude,"
No response at all.
Your silence was driving him mad. He couldn't get a good read on what you were feeling when you kept looking away like that.
"If you'd like to return home early, I would understand and escort you promptly,"
"No,"
A response. Not a good one, but a response nonetheless.
"May I ask you a question?" though he doesn't really wait for your permission to go on. "Why do they speak to you like that?"
That comment seems to jolt you, and you turn to look at him with wide eyes. "What? Speak to me like what?"
He struggles for the right words.
How could he describe it? It was so... odd. The words they spoke to you didn't sound cruel, but there was something sinister lurking beneath them. And not even in the typical "polite for the sake of it" sense.
Each response they gave was laced with a sort of venom that seemed to sting you. You had grown quiet, distant, as if you weren't really there at all.
Of course he was familiar with such tactics. He could weave his own words with ease. But you had done nothing wrong- you were guiltless. Why were you being punished?
He couldn't quite come up with an answer.
"You seemed uncomfortable," he finally says, looking away again. "I apologize for such an experience happening to you under my watch."
"It's not your fault,"
"It certainly isn't. And it's not yours, either,"
A blanket of silence falls over the two of you until he speaks again.
"You have nothing to feel bad about," he reaffirms.
Another pause.
"And I don't mean to intrude. But if you ever need my assistance, you know where to find me,"
191 notes · View notes
aliidarling · 2 days
Text
i need to purge my urges, shame shame shame pt. 2
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RICK GRIMES x fem!reader
part. 1
nsfw content — please scroll if uncomfortable
summary: rick has been slowly trapping you with him, but someone comes up which ends in him having to remind you who u belong to
warnings: nsfw, p in v, fingering, noncon pretty much, manipulating, gaslighting, toxic rick, creampie, baby trapping, rough sex
i took inspo from an anon who requested baby-trapping :3
dark content below !!
You thought after a few days or weeks of being a B at the CRM would fill the void in your heart, the need to go back home and reunite with your friends and family. You could only imagine their smiles and faces, as now you had no way of contacting them. Rick was watching you like a hawk, eyes always on you even when he wasn’t in the room.
The sound of Judith’s laughter echoed in your head as you sat in your new apartment, his. He had just recently asked you to move into his commander suite, which you really couldn’t say no to, who would? The chance to be closer to your husband? You would be crazy to reject such an offer.
Every day of the last week had gone the same. You’d wake up in his arms, make love, eat breakfast, and split ways, Rick off to command and you on your way to stab walkers at the gate for hours in the heat. The thick uniforms were annoying but you were starting to get used to it.
What didn’t sit right with you was how *casual* Rick was with this whole thing. You had made the mistake of trying to reason with him a few weeks ago, which now was a reminder in your head not to anger him.
“The hell do you think you’re doin’?” He says angrily, glaring at you. He was livid, frustrated, and mostly offended. He had been so gentle and kind with you, and you go off and try and run away.
“I was trying— I was, I just got lost, Rick.” You plead quickly, your words a mess as you look up at him pleadingly. Your lips tremble as you see his fists clench and his nose flare. He was pissed off.
“You’re trying to leave me, aren’t you?” He scoffs, turning away to shake his head in disbelief. “Un-fucking-believable.” He sighs to himself. You shrivel up, tears pricking at your eyes. You didn’t want him to be angry at you, why was he angry? You loved him.
“I swear, I swear I’m not. I won’t try to leave, Rick.” You step forward and pull him into a hug, burying your face into his chest as you whimper. He lets out a dramatic groan, rolling his eyes and reluctantly wrapping his arms around you.
“You can’t keep doing this, sweetheart. You know I care about you. How am I supposed to take care of you when you’re not with me, hmm? You’re so small, someone else could just,” He initiates a pew pew sound, making you flinch and curl up further into him. He holds back a mean snicker.
“Say, why don’t you start staying with me? I’ll keep you safe. You’ll wake up in my arms every day and I can stuff that needy pussy whenever you want.” He coos lovingly into your ear, gently picking you up.
The rest was history. Shortly after, you moved in with him, and now you woke up every morning in his arms and fell asleep in them. He would manage to sneak into some of your shifts as the Commander to keep watch, but you could feel his eyes burning through your uniform, you knew you were the only reason why he was there.
But today, something felt off. You were talking with one of the friends you had made in the past month, Micheal. He was one of the B’s as well, you saw him from 8 am to 6 pm every day and during meal breaks. He was sweet, fluffy hair with a killer smile and dimples to die for.
“Did you know one of the a B’s broke into the cafeteria last night and stole a bunch of food? The commanders were all talking about it this morning, they’re pissed.” He innocently gossips. He smiles at you, turning to face you slightly as he stabs a walker right in the face.
You remember Rick slightly talking about it earlier. You give Micheal a nod, politely smiling back at him.
“I dunno who did it, but I hope they got enough for me. I’m starving.” You joke softly. He chuckles and nods, his hands at work but his eyes on you.
As the two of you continue talking happily, relieved at the small distraction from the labor you were forced to do, you feel a pair of eyes burn onto your back. Your heart skipped a beat as you quickly knew who it was. You could recognize that grumpy aura from anywhere.
Peering behind you, you made quick eye contact with a tall commander. Even with the mask on, you knew it was him, you could tell. He was staring right at you, arms crossed and body language annoyed.
You shrink slightly and glanced back at Micheal, taking a small step back. You cough to yourself.
“Sorry, I’ve been kinda sick recently so.. We should keep some space, don’t wanna get you sick, do I?” You laugh softly.
He blinks in surprise before nodding quickly, a small blush coming over his cheek as he realizes his close he was to you. It was cute how giddy he was when it came to you, it was obvious the boy had a crush.
“Of course! What do you have? A cold? Fever? Do you want me to bring something over later? I have some medicine at my place.”
It was as if Rick had heard those words because next thing you know you’re getting shoved back into a hard chest.
“Consignee, you’re being called.” A rough voice says. You look up behind you to see the tall commander you already knew who was gazing down at you coldly. He diverts his attention to Micheal, and his gaze goes angry. You can see the dents between his brows that he has when he gets angry.
“Yes, commander.” You salute, glancing at Micheal and giving him a weak smile before walking off.
Rick stands there for a moment, glaring at Micheal, before following you.
Once you’re inside the building and in a private hall, he doesn’t waste a second and shoves you against a wall, his mask already off and his face all up in yours.
“Who the hell do you think you are? Flirting with others in front of my face like I’m some fuckin’ idiot.” He snapped. His rough hands go to hold your shoulders flush to the wall, his eyes narrowed with a glint of menace in them. He was angry, pissed off, and confused.
Why would you go and flirt with someone else when you have him? He was the perfect husband— talk, handsome, sweet personality, and amazing bed skills, something he was sure Micheal didn’t have. Stupid Micheal probably didn’t even know how to be a real man. Rick was a real man.
“What are you talking about?” You gasp. “I wasn’t flirting with him— what?! Me and him are just friends!” You counter immediately, getting defensive and offended.
“Like hell you are,” He scoffs, pushing you closer. His eyes gaze down at you coldly, narrowed and furious. He stares at you before pressing his nose against you, his hot breath on your face. You shiver and try to lean back but the wall has you trapped.
“You’re lucky I didn’t kill him right there, would have painted the gates with his blood. Would you of liked that?” He sneers. You go still momentarily, thinking over his harsh threat, your heartbeat racing.
“No, no Rick. You don’t need to do all that— I won’t talk to him.” You say quickly, reaching to gently cup his face with your shaky palms. You gulp nervously and attempt to soothe him, rubbing gently and pressing a little peck to his lips. He growls against your lips, pulling you back in when you attempt to part. He doesn’t want to be away from you right now, he wants all of you and your loyalty entirely.
It had been a few days since then. Everything was supposedly fine, you guessed. Rick was still watching you like a hawk. You could feel the glare on your back whenever Micheal goes anywhere near you, so you make sure to come up with excuses to leave the young man alone for the sake of his safety.
You didn’t want anything to happen to him. You knew Rick. You used to, that is. You had no idea why he had changed so much, but you couldn’t just leave him. No— You loved him. You wouldn’t leave. Maybe you could help him go back to his old self, maybe he was just damaged.
Yeah. That’s it. He needs you. You have to help him. Aid him in returning to his old self so you can have *your* Rick back.
You were out by the lake when you heard leaves crunching next to you. You turned to face the disturbance, your heart skipping a beat when you thought it was Rick— but the sight of the blonde boy had you relaxing for some reason.
“Micheal.” You greet with a polite smile, shuffling on the bench to make room for him. He smiles back at you and sits down, a few inches between your thighs.
“You alright? I’ve uh, noticed you’ve been a little distant recently.” He frowned, leaning back on the bench and gazing at the beautiful lake in front of the two of you. It was fall, the leaves were falling and the sidewalk was covered in a variety of red, orange, and yellow.
Your smile twitched as you picked at your hair.
“It’s nothing, just haven’t been feeling well. I think I caught a cold.” You chuckle softly, facing him slightly. You put your arm on the back of the bench, leaning on your palm. You gazed at him closely.
Knowing Rick wasn’t here, you felt oddly comfortable. You weren’t scared of accidentally angering him by being friendly with Micheal like you could breathe clearly for once.
He gives you a concerned look, brows furrowing innocently.
“Oh, that’s not good. How do you feel today?”
A small sigh left you as you squirmed in your position, not sure what to say. Pressing your lips together for a moment, you pondered.
“…Peachy.”
A small giggle left the both of you as you sat and conversed freely, no commanders breathing down your neck or glaring daggers.
You should have known that the peace never lasted long when it came to being married to a ticking time bomb. The second you entered your apartment, the air was tense and you could tell by the way Rick was looking at you that you did something wrong.
“What’s wrong?” You said immediately, rushing forward to him. You gently place your hands on his forearms, frowning up at him innocently. What did you do? Why is he angry?
He grunts lowly and grabs you by your shoulders, pushing you back until your back is against the wall. You failed to speak as your throat went dry, your heart stopping for a good second.
“Rick—“ Your voice cracked, a yelp leaving you as his fist landed on the wall just inches from your face.
“Shut the hell up, you ungrateful little,” He inhales deeply before he says something he knows he’ll regret. One hand next to you clenched in a fist, the other rubbing his jaw in a stressed manner, he finally looks down at you with a harsh glare.
“Do you even love me?” He chokes out, blinking. His voice was scratchy, the southern accent from years ago a subtle hint now.
You blink in surprise, lips parting as you stand there confused and fearful.
“W-What? Of course, I do! You're my husband, I searched for you for years,” You were once again interrupted by him as he raised his voice at you, making you flinch and cower in his presence.
“The hell were you doin’ with Micheal, huh?! That skimpy little boy— Out there by the lake, talking like you’re two little love birds, who the hell do you think you are?!” He snaps.
His hands come up to your face aggressively, making you flinch as you think he’s gonna hit you. He instead cups your cheeks and leans down so he’s breathing down your cheeks.
“You thought I was gon’ hit you? Is that how low you think of me? What the hell?” His raised voice has you practically trembling in fear, legs wobbly and bottom lip quivering pathetically.
“N-No Rick, you know I don’t think of you like that. You’re scaring me, please.” You whimpered out, attempting to squirm out of his hold. He tightens his grasp on you, pressing his body against yours.
“You shut that pretty mouth of yours, baby, before I do something you really won’t like. I’ll give you a reason to cry, got that? Huh?” He shakes you, making your eyes burn with humiliation and tears.
“Y-Yes.” You nod, your hands shakily reaching for him as you weakly attempt to push his hands off your face. In response, he slightly slaps your cheek as a warning, a pressurized pat.
You blink hard, trying to hold back the tears. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.
He stares you down, thinking silently in his head. He was quiet, and his silence was more threatening than his words for some reason. He was unrecognizable when it came to reading him. He used to be easy to calm down, but not anymore.
“Y’know, I never got to see you with a baby bump. Saw you raise Carl with me, but never saw you pregnant. Never.” He mumbles. His eyes narrow as he looks you up and down. His words send goosebumps down your spine, the dark reasoning behind them known to you. You attempt to push him off more firmly now, sniffling.
“Don’t do this,” You choke out. He ignores your pleas and grabs you, manhandling you into his bed and pressing you down. His body was big and muscular, he had grown a lot. Small pleas leave your throat as you squirm and thrash, but it’s all useless to him.
“Shhhh, I’m not gonna hurt ya’, is it so bad I wanna see my wife pregnant? You’d look so cute, belly full of my babies.” He whispers, smiling down at your form. He pushes his hands under your shirt and pulls it up over your head. It gets stuck on your head because of your thrashing, making him roll his eyes in annoyance.
He slaps your thigh once he has the shirt off you, scowling down at you.
“Behave, or I swear to god.” He hisses. He watches as you start to let tears stream down your cheeks, and he holds back the smile as he reaches down and gently kisses them away.
“Don’t cry baby, you’re gonna be the prettiest mama I know.” He mumbles as he starts to kiss up your belly, pampering you with affection that only makes you feel worse. Every kiss has you sniffling and hiccuping under him, your body trembling.
“Can’t run from me when you’re pregnant with my child, right?” He chuckles darkly, large hands cupping your belly. He squeezes it gently and smiles at your reaction.
He pulls you in for a kiss, hands tugging down your pants and panties, not wasting any time. He was impatient, he’d admit it. He didn’t want another second to go where you weren’t stuffed full of his seed.
Spreading your thighs was hard with the way you were squeezing them shut. He rolls his eyes at your fight but easily holds them apart, the other hand going down to your pussy.
He clicks his tongue as he feels how barely wet you are. “Whatever, it’ll do.” With that, he shoves his fingers into your mouth. He glares at you, waiting for your saliva to coat his fingers before he pulls out and shoves them knuckle-deep into your cunt.
“A-Augh!” You gasp at the sudden burn in your lower region, your body tensing and eyes fluttering. Even with your salvia around the fingers currently thrusting deeper into you, it still hurt like a bitch to be stretched open so suddenly. Rick’s fingers were thick.
“Shhh, take it, c'mon.” He mutters, eyes narrowed as his fingers keep sliding in and out roughly, not giving you a chance to breathe as he makes scissoring motions.
Your moans are forced out of your throat. Even with how hard you were trying to hold them back, Rick knew exactly how to make you feel good, knew which spots make your toes curl and which ones made you cum the hardest.
He ignores your shaky cries and how you begged him to stop, his fingers only going harder. You curl up at the feeling, gasping. You were already feeling close to cumming to your embarrassment.
“So close already?” He snickers meanly, pulling out swiftly and rushing to unbuckle his belt and pull down his jeans. He was in a hurry, a hurry to get balls-deep in you and fuck you until you’re leaking cum. “Poor baby.” He tsk’s at your whimper.
“No, don’t— Rick,” You beg desperately as he pulls out his hard cock and positions himself on top of you, tip against your opening and his hands holding you down. You feel more tears coming as your legs are forced open and your thighs are pressed against your chest, knees almost touching your chin.
You sob under him as he slowly thrusts inside, his eyes rolling back at the feeling of your tight pussy squeezing him. Even with how he stretched you open, it still felt like he was ripping you open whenever he slid himself into you.
He presses his chest down onto your thighs, legs over his shoulders, and his hands grab yours to hold them above your head. Your eyes roll back at the feeling, trembling in a mix of fear, pain, and arousal. You didn’t k is what to do.
“Please—“
“Shut up, shhh.” He starts to thrust, and you immediately start to moan at how deep his cock hit inside you. Gasping for air as you choked on your tears, his grunt grew louder as he picked up a smooth pace.
“Gonna stuff this pussy full of my babies, you’re gonna be so pretty pregnant, baby, don’t cry, don’t cry.” He soothes you, thrusting harder into your wailing hole.
Even with how good it felt to have him thrust into your body, his body pressing against yours with his lips pressing gentle kisses all over you, you couldn’t focus on any of it. All you could think of was how much he had changed. The Rick you knew would never do this to you.
Your body was being pleasured, but your heart was being stabbed over and over again, aching and throbbing painfully. You just wanted this all to stop and for him to hold you close and comfort you. Was that too much to ask for?
He groans and reaches down to get as close to you as possible, saying, "Fuck, fuck." He intended for you to feel every single inch of him, the depth of him being there in your tiny little pussy, and every feeling he gave you.
“Ya’ feel that? Yeah? Can you feel how deep I am in that pussy of yours? I can feel you gripping me, my love; must feel so good, doesn't it?” Your cries are muffled as he successfully presses his cock further, his fat head grazing your tender region and making you clench up.
“Gonna cum inside you and force you to take every drop, knock you up, and then you can’t leave me. You’re not going anywhere, all mine sweetheart.” He rambles into your ear as his thrusts continue, your eyes rolling back at the force and pace. You sobbed under him for mercy but he didn’t listen, instead tightening his grip on your wrists.
“Fuckkkk, feels so good,— Take every bit of it, kay? Gon’ make you cry so much harder if you don’t,” He groans. He buries himself as deep inside you as he can, hugging you tightly to his chest as he releases his thick load in your walls. It takes him a moment to part from you, sweating and panting. You had him whimpering on top of you, still holding you down. He starts to sloppily thrust again, making you flinch at the feeling.
“No, please stop! I can’t take anymore, please!” You plea, whining shakily as he rams into your sensitive hole over and over again. You already had his cum dripping out of you, the squelching sounds making you blush in embarrassment as he kept going. He invokes your words and continues his torturous pace.
“We’re gonna be here for a while, sweetheart.” He chuckles darkly. With a raspy groan, he grasps your waist, letting your wrists go finally and holding your waist as leverage to batter your insides easier.
“If you think I’m goin’ to sleep tonight without a shit load of cum inside you, then you’re stupider than I thought.”
Yeah, you were definitely getting pregnant after this.
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borderlinereminders · 21 hours
Text
I actually really want an outside point of view. But also to share my side.
There’s a user posting a lot of bad stuff about me. Like a lot. I try and let this stuff go and not engage on this platform. I’m not posting their username publicly because I am still trying to respect their privacy but if anyone does see the posts, I want my side to be out there.
I run a trauma survivors discord server. In the server, I try and manage everyone’s comfort as best as I can.
I had more than one person approach me about feeling uncomfortable at the frequency this user tried to get other members to DM and how pushy it came across as.
Me and the other mods understood that this likely didn’t come from a bad place but from being lonely so we weren’t mad. Genuinely. But if I have multiple people feeling uncomfortable, I feel I need to act on it. No one approached me publicly in the server so no one knew someone else had approached me. The people approaching me didn’t know anyone else had approached me so this wasn’t a thing where people just started agreeing and piling on.
So, I sent this message (privately through a ticket system)
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The things being said because of this message have me second guessing myself. And I’m just tired.
I understand that they are feeling attacked and I so remember how it felt when I was in a really bad place and I would have felt really upset about getting this message too. But I still don’t think the amount of harassing is justified by them or the things they are saying about me are okay.
I really don’t usually post about drama but my other urge was to delete my blogs because I am just so tired. And I realized that urge was coming because I felt like I couldn’t defend myself. Like I had to be the “bigger” person and that’s something I struggled with a lot growing up. Being quiet to protect other people.
So, here’s my side of the story.
Edit: the user has now taken down the posts about me and apologized. I am leaving this up though because it does not identify them at all and I don’t trust stuff not to get out of hand again. It feels like it protects me a bit.
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15. "I'll keep kissing you." "Until you're sick of it?" "Until I can't think of anything else but you." For Gojo? Like s/o was feeling insecure if he really wants to date her but this is how he reassures her that he loves her dearly?
Quite The Romantics {Gojo Satoru}
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A/n: thank you for requesting, I hope you like the outcome
Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem! reader
Trigger warnings: mentions of self-doubt, insecurities and overall angst, implied sexual activity
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Being in a relationship with the strongest sorcerer alive was easy. The late night calls that signalled missions, him worrying about his students, the higher ups... everything was manageable. It helped that you were also a sorcerer so you knew what the dangers were and Gojo didn't have to keep things a secret in order to protect you.
Being in a relationship with the most handsome man you've ever seen was not easy. It had been a mutual agreement to keep things lowkey and so far it had been fine. The students knew about you two and they were fully supportive and excited when they saw the two of you together inside the school grounds but things were not so simple outside of campus.
Gojo and you didn't share a home, yet at least since he had been pestering you for a month to move in with him; having a huge and luxurious apartment always had its perks. So when it came to dates there were only two options: either Gojo would pick you up or you would meet him at the date spot.
With your line of work, the latter was what usually worked best.
Tonight's date had been marvellous. From the food to the music to the view, you had to hand it to him; Gojo Satoru had taste. And even after the date, when the two of you returned to his place... everything was perfect. Perfect apart from one thing.
"Where's your little mind travelling?" Gojo returned from the bathroom, grey sweatpants on and a white towel on his head. The usual scent of sex had now been replaced by the smell of his body lotion and shampoo: roses.
You were a little hesitant to reply and in your mind it was only natural. Who wouldn't be nervous when the love of their life was asking them what is going?
"Oh no!" He plopped next to you on the bed, a small smirk on his face. "Can I guess?" He nuzzled his face in the crook of your head, his arm already wrapped around your waist.
"Go on." You sighed and turned on your side, facing him. Something about the way he hugged you felt comforting and you knew he knew it. It was a small trick Gojo always had up his sleeve that not even he knew how he had found out.
"Is it about the girl that came up to me while I was waiting for you at the restaurant? Don't be shy with me honey." He giggled. That bastard knew what he was doing and your silence wasn't helping your case. "I knew it." He pulled away from you with a smile.
You didn't want to admit it. Mostly because you were confident in yourself and in your relationship with him. But there were times when you could see other people flirting with him and something in you broke. You weren't nearly as confident as him, nor that much of an outgoing person and your ego was in normal levels. So what was stopping him from breaking up with you to find someone else?
Being in a relationship with Gojo Satoru only had perks. Gojo knew you better than anyone. He knew how to make you laugh, how to make you moan, how to make you stop crying. He also knew how to touch and kiss you.
"What are you doing?" You tried pushing him away but he was strong and he wasn't letting go of you. Pushing him away, especially when laughing at the same time, was never easy and you knew it, but you still did it anyway. Not because you wanted him away from you but because you wanted to piss him off.
"I'm kissing you." He laughed, placing another small peck on your collarbone before travelling up to your neck and then your cheeks and then your mouth.
"Haven't you kissed me enough already?"
"I'll keep doing it, I don't care."
"Until you're sick of it?"
"Until I know you know I can't think of anything else but you."
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faetreides · 6 hours
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oooh art would be lowkey freaky. i feel like he’s also a super munch. he’ll let you sit on his face for hours!!
cw: 18+ mdni, cunnilingus, ambiguous era, afab reader, slight brat!reader, teasing, like two spanks (+ one instance of ass play + very slight anal fingering)
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Art devours you like no one else ever could, burying his tongue into your pussy for hours on end. If he could, he’d do it 24/7. He does it enough as it is away. As a wake up call, a way to say goodnight, in the shower, on your period, from behind while you’re cooking, in a pool chair, you get the gist. If you asked what he favorite sexual act to do with you was, there’s not a single doubt in your mind that it would be slurping up your pussy.
You’ve never sat on his face before though, too scared to break his neck after reading a story on your phone about that happening to someone else. It’d be a real mood killer to come down from you high to see your boyfriend dead to the world, literally. You didn’t talk about it again after the initial awkward discussion that ended with you dismissing it. But he just looks so hot in the early morning sun, a rare sleepy day in where you actually get to marvel at what Art looks like when he’s relaxed.
You bite your lip and shake him gently, trying not to shy away and curl up into a ball when he eventually groans and rubs his eyes open.
“Morning, baby.” He grunts in his husky morning voice.
He immediately puckers his lips for a kiss that you provide with less casual confidence than usual. His brow furrows, and he caresses the inside of your wrist with his thumb.
“What’s up? Are you hungry?” He asks you, thinking that you’re needing him to run and get you coffee or something.
You say no and play with your hands, the ache you’ve been feeling between your thighs only grows the more you look into his eyes.
“I just…. I need you.” You whisper.
Art squints his eyes, not sure what you mean. Then he recalls how he usually wakes you up in the morning, “Oh. You need me, huh?”
You nod and spread your legs, giving a view of your bare pussy. You took your underwear off earlier when the feeling got to be too much.
“Can you say it for me, angel? Tell me what you need and i’ll give it you.” He grins, teasing you. “If you woke me up, you must need whatever it is really bad.”
You roll your eyes and straddle him, sighing in bliss when he latches onto your hips. You’d put up more of a fight if you weren’t so horny, but you’ll let Art have his fun this time.
“I need you to eat me out.” You hold back the ‘obviously’ that you want to tack onto the end of your sentence.
Art’s grin widens and he makes you rock back and forth on his clothed bulge. He waist until you’re juices are wetting the fabric of his underwear before he pats your thigh, telling you to get off. You don’t budge and allow him to get into the typical position. Instead you lift your hips and shuffle up the bed until you’re hovering over his face.
“I want you to eat me out like this.”
Art’s grin falters as his eyes widen in shock for a second, you must really be pent up if you’re being this bold. He’s not complaining, he’d been waiting patiently for you to get comfortable enough to use him like a chair. You’re enough of a brat to change your mind if he acts too smug about getting what he wants even if you want it too though, so he tones it down.
“Get to it then, angel.” He smirks, his words trailing off into a satisfied sigh. “Give me a taste of this pretty pussy, don’t hold back.”
He flattens his tongue expectantly and leans his head back against the pillows.
Before you can even hesitate, Art snakes his arms under your legs and yanks your body down, making you drop your weight on him. You yelp but he doesn’t let you squirm away from his mouth. The sensation of his tongue lying still beneath you feels strange for a second, but a slap to your ass snaps you out of it enough to start moving your hips.
You shout and grab onto the headboard, getting yourself off on your boyfriend’s face. You play with one of your tits as you start to bounce on him, craving more of his tongue.
You reach down and tug on his hair, suddenly feeling too shy to make eye contact. He hasn’t looked away from you this entire time, and your cheeks warm in embarrassment at the thought of how messy you already look.
He winks at you, not moving at all and letting you take your fill. Well that’s not what you want anymore, so you tug his hair harder and beg.
“Please, baby, just tongue fuck me already. Don’t you want to? ‘m getting tired…” You whine, pouting down at him.
You stop your hips when you don’t get an answer. Art’s eyes crinkle in delight at your predicament, but he gives in to you. He always does, you just don’t like when he puts you on the spot and makes you wait like this. Secretly you kinda enjoy how he acts in bed, but you like putting up a fight way more.
Art curls his tongue around your clit and you throw your head back. He gives the throbbing bud a few customary sucks and then he jabs his tongue into your wet hole. You moan and grab onto his hair, bouncing on him in time with his tongue’s short thrusts. You roll your hips down against the slick appendage and cry out when it hits the right spot, grasping onto the headboard for dear life.
“Oh my god, feels so good! Wanted you in my pussy, need you there, sucking me dry-what the fuck, yes!” You squeal, firmly keeping his face nuzzled into your pussy and your thighs around his head.
His hands are playing with your ass while he eats you out. You’re mid bounce when you feel one of his thumbs prod at your ass hole, and the barest hint of having two of your wholes filled gets you moving faster on him. He spread your cheeks wider and kneads the flesh, jiggling them in his hands.
Art responds in kind and slides his tongue around whatever parts of your juicy pussy he can, scooping up your juices and guzzling them down as he stabs his tongue through your sopping folds.
You’d normally pull him back by his hair when you got close, not wanting to get him too dirty with your cum. But now you’re tightening your thighs over his ears and and stuffing his nose into your trimmed pubic hair, bouncing like your life depends on it.
Art spanks you again when your walls spasm around his tongue thirty seconds later. He gulps your orgasm down with love in his eyes and a heartbeat in his dick. He coos at your soft sniffles and massages your trembling thighs when you get up and collapse beside him.
“Thanks for breakfast, angel, I’d rate it 5 stars”. He laughs, half jokingly and half seriously.
“Whatever, perv.” You weakly smack him on the chest and groan, trying to keep your soul in your body. “Go get coffee… please.”
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