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honeyedmiller · 6 months

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Checkmate | Joel Miller

pairing: dbf!joel x f!reader

warnings: dbf!joel, age gap (reader is late 20’s, joel mid 40’s), reader is depicted as shorter than joel but otherwise has no other physical description (picture in mood board is for aesthetic purposes only), mutual pining, making out, smut (thigh riding, brief mentions of f oral receiving, unprotected [bc] piv, slight cockwarming, riding), reader’s best friend’s name is hailey, no use of y/n. 18+, minors dni.

huge thank you to my baby @party-hearses for beta reading this for me. i love you to a million pieces 🖤

a/n: also this is my 900 follower celebration?! i still can’t wrap my head around the fact that so many people follow me and enjoy what i reblog / write. i love u all so, so much. i also feel kinda bad bc i hyped this one shot up a lot only for the smut to not be that descriptive, but this is more about joel and reader’s feelings than what they essentially do with each other. hope y’all still enjoy it :’)

word count: 4.6k

synopsis: you and your dad’s best friend play a dangerous game, and one of you ends up losing faster than you both anticipated.

dividers by the lovely @saradika

You wiped your sweaty brow on your forearm as you lugged a fifth box into your new apartment. You’d finally saved up enough to move out of your parent’s place. Your master’s degree had paid off after all, landing you a job in the heart of Austin, Texas. You were only a thirty minute drive from your parent’s house, which your mom totally loved. She couldn’t wait to help you decorate your place and hand you down the pots and pans that’d been in the family for quite some time.

The move wasn’t necessarily a tough one, because you were ready to get out of your parents’ hair. You all got along well, but you were dying for your own privacy and space that you could call your own. You couldn’t be happier now that you had it.

In the midst of the move, your dad insisted he’d phone his best buddy, Joel. You’d only heard about him a handful of times while you were away at college, and in the months you’d been back with your parents, your dad always went over to his house to watch sports or hang out. When the whole family was invited over to his house for barbecues, you always found yourself either already having other plans with your friends, or you were working. Today was finally the day you’d meet the mystery man that is Joel Miller.

And that’s when you saw him. Tall, broad, ruggedly handsome, body clad in an army green shirt that showcased his biceps and veiny forearms, dark jeans that showed off the muscle of his thick thighs, and scuffed up boots from plenty of days, weeks, hell–months of hard work that added an inch or two to his already towering height.

He must’ve been in his forties if you had to guess. His dark brown hair was dusted with slight specs of gray, the scruff on his jawline mirroring the hair on his head. His nose was strong, and was perfectly fitted with his face. He had dark brown eyes that were kind yet held some kind of sternness—a look that made your panties easily dampen. His mustache framed his lips that were pursed into a slight frown, and you couldn’t help but wonder what they’d feel like all over your body.

He looked at you just the same, all but hungry eyes roaming your body as he caught a glimpse of you for the first time. Like a damn deer caught in headlights.

He was your dad’s best friend?

Oh, you were truly, utterly, royally fucked.

You introduced yourself to him and he shook your hand, the calloused pads of his fingers meeting your soft skin sending a string of butterflies through your stomach.

You genuinely don’t think you’d ever been this attracted to someone at first glance.

After he and your dad helped you move all of your stuff into your new place, you’d concluded two things: one, Joel Miller was a man of very few words–at least, around you that is, and two: you were sure he was attracted to you just as you were to him.

Was it so wrong to want someone a little bit older? Perhaps not. What was wrong was that he’s your dad’s best friend. You shouldn’t want someone like that. Someone you were absolutely sure could handle you in the best way possible.

About a month after you’d finally gotten settled into your apartment, you invited your best friend Hailey over a movie night and a glass of wine. You told her about your predicament, to which she couldn’t help but be the little devil on your shoulder and encourage you to go after Joel.

“Look, I know he’s your dad’s best friend n’ all, but what he doesn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right?” She questions, legs tucked underneath her body as her lips curl into a sly grin before she takes another sip of her wine.

“I mean yeah, but I’ve never done something like this before. An older man, who’s closely acquainted with my dad? I oughta be out of my damn mind.” You sigh, rubbing your temple.

“Live a little, babe. You’ve been a good kid to your parents your whole life. It’s time you do something for you for once and go after it. Make a subtle move on him next time. That might spice things up a bit.” She suggests, pursing her lips.

“You’re right. But if I make a move and it backfires, I’m completely fucked and I’m moving to the other side of the country.” You laugh exasperatingly.

She reaches over to pat your thigh softly. “Only one way to find out.”

You hadn’t seen Joel as of late, but you weren’t phased by it. It’d been a really busy couple of weeks at work, and you were joining your coworkers tonight for a celebratory t.g.i.f. drink.

Hailey was over at your apartment getting ready with you and you both were already two shots of tequila in. You weren’t much of a drinker, but truth be told, you needed this night out.

“So I’m either between this dress or this one.” You explain to Hailey, and she studies the options you held up for her to thoroughly inspect. It was either between a black satin mini dress with sparkly straps, or a strapless maroon bodycon dress

“This one,” She points at the black dress. “With your red kitten heels.”

You toss the maroon dress onto your bed and take the black one off of the hanger, changing into the dress after Hailey goes to pour herself another shot. You slip aforementioned heels on and give yourself a once over in your full body closet mirror, satisfied with your appearance.

You wanted to look and feel hot tonight, and it was safe to say you achieved just that. Maybe you’d pick up some hot guy at the bar tonight. He may not be no Mr. Miller, but anyone to take the tension of the past couple of weeks away would suffice.

You were applying one last layer of lipgloss when Hailey’s knuckles rapped on your door twice, head peeking into your bedroom.

“Uber’s here. Let’s go get fucked up.”

You laugh at her enthusiasm, hot on her trail as you locked up and headed down to your Uber.

The ride was only fifteen minutes before you pulled up to the bar that was already packed. You both slipped inside, spotting your coworkers at a table. They were laughing about something when you and Hailey walked up, and they all cheerily greeted you with hugs.

It wasn’t long before the DJ was playing some line dancing songs, and multiple people made their way to the dance floor to move their bodies. You and Hailey were the only ones left at the table as you laughed at your coworkers trying to keep up with the beat of the song.

“Mr. Hottie over there has been checking you out for some time now.” Hailey leaned into you, nudging your side with her elbow as she jutted her head toward a man at the bar.

You felt your body drained of warmth as you saw none other than Joel Miller standing at the end of the bar, sipping on his beer tentatively. His eyes were locked on you, and the stupid butterflies rumbled around in your stomach once more.

“Hailey, that’s him.” You say, swallowing thickly.

“Who?” She gives you a questioning look, the drinks she’s had tonight making her mind a bit fuzzy.

“My dad’s best friend. That’s Joel.” You say, and her eyes nearly bug out of her head.

“Oh, girl, if you don’t make your move I’ll force you to make one. He’s a fucking hunk.”

Your eyes trailed back over to him, taking in his appearance. He switched out the green t-shirt for a gray one, dark wash jeans, and the same boots he wore when he showed up to help you move into your place.

The way he was looking at you made you want to do extremely sinful things with him. Fuck. Now or never.

“I’ll be back.” You tell Hailey, and her expression brightens up and cheers you on as you slip off of your seat.

You saunter over to Joel, drink in hand, and you sip on it through the straw as you approach him. He looks down at you amused, eyes nearly black as he scans you from head to toe.

“You stalking me now, Mr. Miller?” You tease, leaning up against the bar top.

Joel scoffs a laugh and sips on his beer once more. “Y’think I don’t have something better to do with my time than to see where you are on a Friday night?” He retorts, but it wasn’t mean. You were sober enough to hear the hint of playfulness in his tone.

“Mm, not really.” You shrug, feigning an innocent smile up at him.

So you could be a brat. He bet he could fix that attitude in no time.

He chuckled at his own thoughts, finishing off his beer as he set the empty bottle down on the sticky bar top.

“You caught me, darlin’. Any woman as ravishing as you is worth stalkin’.” The slight curl of his lip made you smile. You sipped on your drink some more as you watched the patrons of the bar dancing to the current song. Your eyes avert back up to his gaze, and you step closer to him.

His eyes move down to your glossy lips wrapped around the straw, wishing so badly that your lips were wrapped around something else right at that moment.

“What brings you here tonight, Mr. Miller?” You ask, reaching a hand out to touch his bicep. His body goes rigid at your touch, and you fear you’ve gone too far so your hand immediately drops. Joel does a quick scan of the bar before wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his sturdy body.

“My brother’s best friend’s birthday.” He shrugs, and you nod. You felt like a fucking hummingbird with how fast your heart was beating, and you were sure Joel could feel it with the close proximity between the two of you.

The air became thick and heavy. Your breathing accelerated, looking up at Joel and into his lust-clouded eyes. His grip on your waist tightened in the slightest, and you nearly whimpered as you felt his bulge through the denim fabric of his jeans.

“Joel.” Your voice was merely a whisper, and he smirked down at you.

“Care to line dance, darlin’?” He asked nonchalantly. Your eyebrows furrowed as disappointment shot through you. Were you reading the situation wrong?

“I don’t really know how.” You say, setting your now watered-down drink on the counter.

“I’ll teach you.” He shrugs, grabbing your hand and dragging you onto the dance floor. He showed you step by step how to move, but your mind was so hazy with lust that you could barely even focus.

It’d been months since someone touched you in an intimate way, and the burning need and desire was aflame through your body. All you could think about was Joel’s hands and tongue on you as you moaned his name. The thought nearly made you pout.

“You even listenin’ to me?” Joel pulls you out of your daydream, and you look up at him with half lidded eyes. He was teasing and holding out on you and he knew it.

His face held pure amusement as he watched you squirm under his stare uncontrollably, fidgeting like a little kid on Christmas Eve waiting for Santa to stop by.

“I’m gonna go get another drink.” You sigh, walking back to the table Hailey was waiting at.

“What happened?” She asks, looking behind you at Joel who was burning a hole in the back of your body.

“No idea. Guess I’m not getting lucky after all.” You shrug with a disappointed huff of a laugh. You looked back to see if Joel was still there, but he seemed to have disappeared.

You grabbed your purse and made your way to the bar, leaning over it. The back of your dress rode your thighs significantly, barely covering your ass at this point. Before you could get the bartender’s attention again, you felt a hand on your shoulder pull you back and press you into their body. You were about to mouth off on this person before you realized it was Joel.

“Fuck, c’mon.” His hand slid down to your wrist, gently tugging it. You looked at Hailey as you started to follow Joel and pointed at him discreetly, and she gave you a thumbs up.

Joel led you out into the cool air of the night, immediately chilling your whole body. Goosebumps raised onto your skin as he led you to his truck, your heels clicking against the unevenly paved asphalt.

“What are you doing, Joel?” You ask as you stop in front of a dark truck.

“I’m about to give us what we both want.” He said before trapping your body against his truck and between both of his strong arms that landed on either side of you. You cocked an eyebrow up at him, eyes and lips glossy underneath the dim parking lot lights.

“Can’t believe I’m fuckin’ doin’ this.” Joel murmurs before leaning down, smashing his lips with yours. You moan softly into the kiss, carding your fingers into his longer locks. You give the ends a slight tug and he moans into your mouth. You feel the arousal pool in your panties and your untouched core starts to throb. You whine into the kiss, and Joel takes that as an opportunity for his tongue to invade your mouth.

He tastes like mint now, probably having popped an altoid in his mouth before coming back to get you from the bar. His hands travel downwards and find purchase on your thighs underneath the dress, rubbing circles into your soft skin. He starts to rut his hips into yours, the bulge in his jeans catching onto your clothed clit deliciously.

“Joel, please.” You choke out as his lips disconnect from yours, hot kisses traveling down your neck and onto your collarbone.

“Please what, baby?” He asks, voice raspy and muffled as he breathes against your neck.

“Need you. Fuck, please, just touch me.” You don’t care how desperate you sound to him at this moment. His touch left a trail of flames everywhere his hands landed, and you couldn’t get enough.

Joel wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you away from the back door of his truck, opening it and helping you slide in. He got in right after you, closing and locking the doors. Your chest was rapidly heaving up and down, trying to catch your breath from the intense moment.

Joel didn’t give you much leeway, though, because as soon as he spread his legs to get comfy in the backseat, he was pulling you on top of him. You closed the gap between you two this time, rutting your hips forward so your heat sat right on top of his bulging crotch. He groaned lowly, looking down to where your dress had ridden up. He saw your pink lace panties that you had on, and god were you grateful you chose to wear those tonight.

Joel hummed in appreciation as he slid his calloused hands up the smooth skin of your thighs, looking back up to meet your gaze. Your lipgloss was nearly gone off of your lips and onto Joel’s, and he had to admit he liked the sticky cherry flavor.

“Your daddy would kill me with his bare hands right now if he saw what I was doin’ with his darlin’ daughter.” Joel chuckles, shaking his head.

“That’s why he won’t find out,” You shrug. “Besides, I’m a grown woman. I can make my own decisions and decide what I want… and what I want is you, Mr. Miller.”

Joel raises an eyebrow and huffs a small laugh. “That right?” He questions, grip getting slightly tighter on the soft flesh of your thighs.

“Mhm.” You nod, hand cradling the back of his head.

“What we’re doin’—this is bad.” Joel chastised, mostly to himself.

“Relax, Joel. I won’t tell if you won’t.” You twirl the hair at the nape of his neck through your fingers, applying more pressure onto his groin. He grunts in response, adjusting himself slightly as the confinement of his jeans was nearly torturous at this point.

“Fine. But we’re endin’ this whole hookin’ up thing if anyone gets even the slightest bit suspicious.” He negotiates, and you nod.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Miller.”

Joel chuckles and shakes his head, leaning up to capture your lips into his once again. You hum against him, hands moving down to his chest as your nails scratch over the thin fabric of his shirt.

You start to grind yourself onto him again, and he groans once more before separating his lips from yours to mumble against them. “Use my thigh, baby.” He shifts you onto his left thigh, and you steady yourself on him by gripping his shoulders.

“I don’t wanna ruin your pants.” You sigh, the pressure of your clothed clit on his thick thigh already providing the tiniest bit of relief.

“I don’t give a shit about my pants, baby. Soak ‘em for all I care.” He presses his lips to your neck once more, and you shiver at the contact. You’re shy at first, not ever having gotten yourself off on someone’s thigh before.

Joel senses your hesitation, so he moves his hands back up to your hips and shifts them forward, causing your soaked cunt to glide along his jean-clad thigh.

You take over yourself, rocking your hips back and forth at a languid pace. Desperate moans are falling out of your mouth as you fist his shirt into your hands, feeling yourself so close already.

“Joel, feels so-so fucking good.” You whine, head dropping back. Your jaw goes slack and eyebrows thread together, picking the pace of your hips up.

“Yeah? Such a good fuckin’ girl, takin’ what she needs to get off.”

“I need you, Joel, please.”

Joel moved his hands to fumble with his belt buckle and jeans button to take his jeans off in the slightest, finally relieving his erection. You moaned at the sight of his thick cock, pre cum gathered at the tip. You brought your thumb to his slit, gathering the pre cum onto your finger before bringing it up to your mouth to gently suck on it.

Joel’s jaw ticked, resisting the urge to bend you over the back of his seat and fuck you senseless then and there. Luckily, he had a lot more restraint than he thought, because all he did was just stare at you sucking seductively on your thumb.

You shifted yourself so you were straddling both of his thighs now, and you grabbed his cock into your hand to give it a few slow tugs. Joel sucked in a breath at your touch, head being thrown back onto the headrest of the seat. You tugged your panties to the side before you ran the tip of his weeping cock through your slick folds, a lewd wetness sounding throughout the cab of the truck.

You moaned as Joel hissed at the contact. It’d been awhile since Joel had been with someone, so he prayed to whatever god was out there that he’d be able to last.

“C’mon baby, don’t be a fuckin’ tease.” Joel grunts, fingertips digging into your hips. You look down at him with half lidded eyes as you sank down onto his length without much resistance.

The stretch was fucking heavenly. Your lips parted as you puffed out a pant and sucked in a breath shortly after, reaching the hilt.

“So fucking big. Fuck.” You mewl, fingers digging into his shoulders for balance once more.

“Stay still for a little.” Joel’s voice was strained, sounding nearly pained as he choked out his words. You felt so good wrapped around him that he just wanted to appreciate your warmth.

Joel slid the sparkly straps of your dress down your shoulders, tugging down the neckline of your dress to reveal your breasts. His tongue darted out of his mouth to briefly wet his lips, large hands moving up to gently squeeze the soft flesh of your chest.

“So fuckin’ perfect.” Joel whispers, moving his head down to envelope one erect nipple into his mouth while his thumb and index finger toyed with the other. You moved one hand up his chest and to the back of his hair, threading your fingers through the thick locks once more as you pushed his face deeper into your pillowy flesh.

The feeling of his expert tongue and heavy cock in you was beginning to be too much. You needed him to move, or at least let you move. You weren’t above absolutely begging him until he gave in, but he seemed to have the same idea as his hips thrusted into you.

You took that as an initiative to move, so you began to slowly glide yourself up and down on him. You sucked in a sharp breath as the feeling of him repeatedly filling you made your legs shake. He took his mouth off of your swollen flesh to avert his gaze to yours, eyes locking as you moved up and down. He moved a hand down to generously rub at your aching clit, causing your cunt to deliciously clench around him.

“Gonna ruin this tight little pussy. Just you wait.” His voice is throaty and deep, sending shivers down your spine. The dangerous glint in his eye let you know that he was dead serious.

You wanted Joel Miller to ruin every other man for you.

That’s how this, the dangerous thing—the game—started.

You both were determined to win at something that wasn’t even tangible; something so lucrative to both of you that the consequences wouldn’t even fucking matter.

It didn’t matter as he took over and fucked his hips up into you at a brutal pace, causing you to orgasm violently on his cock within minutes. It didn’t matter when the windows of his truck fogged up and the drag of your fingertips adorned the glass. It didn’t matter when you reassured him he could cum in you because you were on birth control.

As months went on after that night at the bar, him fucking you up against the wall of his shower or pounding you into your bed or eating your pussy until you physically could not breathe anymore was all that dazed your mind.

Fuck the consequences.

None of it fucking mattered.

Because, over the months, Joel Miller was the kind of man you didn’t mind having in your bed after you two’ve fucked. You didn’t mind when he slept over, or when he wanted to be the little spoon, or when you both went out on dates like a normal couple would.

The euphoria of it all didn’t last forever, though. You knew it wouldn’t, but the heavy weight and reality of it all came crashing down on you one day when Joel was buried deep into your warm cunt, both of you teetering on the edge of a climax, when your dad came knocking on your front door. Pure panic seized your body and you had to make Joel hide in your closet like a fucking teenager.

That’s when you realized you both were way in over your head with this whole thing. Getting caught was going to be inevitable if it kept up like this.

You were eternally grateful that your dad was a man who didn’t hover. He left your apartment after fifteen minutes and when Joel came out from hiding, you told him that it was way too close and it was too risky to keep doing what you both wanted to never put a stop to. You’d silently promised yourself that was the last time with him.

Joel tried to argue against it, but you put your foot down. That is, until you got slightly buzzed one night and begged Joel to come fuck you. Truthfully, you didn’t even really need the sex from him. It was just a plus. You just enjoyed being around him so much that having him in some way, even if only physically, was to suffice.

Little did you know, he felt ten times stronger than what you felt. Joel Miller would worship the ground you walked on, if you allowed him to do so.

He was at your doorstep in no time, pushing you against the wall and kissing you with such neediness as if you’d disappear right beneath his fingertips. You were wearing one of his oversized t-shirts and a pair of panties to which Joel discarded immediately. His thick fingers rubbed against your slick heat, hips bucking to meet the languid pace he set.

Joel shouldn’t be here.

You promised yourself the last time would be the fucking last.

And yet, you found yourself willingly shoved up against the wall of your living room by none other than the man you swore you’d stay away from as he leaves hot, fervent kisses along the slope of your neck.

“Joel, we—fuck, we shouldn’t be doing this. We have to stop.”

“Yeah? Not what you were sayin’ when you were practically beggin’ me to fuck you again over the phone.” He grits. He sinks his fingers into your aching cunt, prying a strangled moan from your throat.

He’s frustrated with himself.

Frustrated that he so easily succumbed to you, allowing himself to wrap himself in the greedy need and carnal desire he had for you. Frustrated that you were twenty years younger than him, and frustrated that you should’ve been off limits.

You were supposed to be off limits, god damnit, but Joel Miller was a greedy fucking man. He just had to have you in a way that nobody else could.

He really didn’t blame your father if he strangled the man with his own bare hands if he ever found out what you two did behind his back, in secret, and for months at that.

Joel knew better.

He fucking knew better and still decided to get a taste, get a feel, fuck you like no other man had. Something his greed deliciously sunk its teeth into, allowing himself to indulge in the forbidden realm you offered to give him.

You knew better, too. But you did get one thing you wanted, after all.

You’d be a fucking liar if you didn’t admit that Joel Miller had officially ruined every other man for you.

The dangers of the game had sunk its teeth so deep into both of you. It was like the world’s most impossible chess match, and one of you was finally waiting for the other to say “checkmate.”

The thing is, Joel lost a long while ago.

He fucking lost the game.

He couldn’t stay away from you no matter how hard he tried, and when you called him begging him to fuck you tonight, his need for you practically drowned him in his weakness.

Joel Miller was not a weak man. You had him under a fucking spell that he couldn’t seem to reverse.

It’s like you were his fucking kryptonite.

He was the one that royally fucked in the end.

Joel wished he didn’t have these feelings that clawed at his fucking rib cage every time he glanced at you, some sort of animalistic creature trying to escape when you were under him, legs spread wide, your warmth wrapped around his cock as he buried himself in you.

Every single time he had you like that, had his lips on you, had you moaning his name like a prayer on Sunday mornings, saw your sweet smile, smelled your perfume that he loved so much, heard your contagious laugh, he knew he lost.

Checkmate.

tags: @nostalxgic ; @ilovepedro ; @bastardmandennis ; @tinygarbage ; @amanitacowboy ; @holesandlividity ; @planet-marz1 ; @joelmillers-whore ; @cool-iguana ; @janaispunk ; @freakygothgirl ; @survivingandenduring ; @clawdee ; @danaispunk ; @kiwisbell ; @untamedheart81

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gay-dorito-dust · 7 months

Note

Can you write h/c on how the reader was able to melt Bihan's frozen heart and how Bihan finally confesses to the reader?

Bi-Han is a man of few words and even fewer actions.

So it goes without saying that upon your first meeting Bi-Han kept you at arms length, possibly even further, and treated you just about as cold and as harshly as he did with others.

It’s just par for the course.

So the first things you did that truly melted Bi-Han’s ice cold heart was showing him basic level kindness/giving him companionship;

Bi-Han was more then content to stand alone then to stand with others with contrasting ideals to his own because he well and truly believed that to truly survive in life, you have to be the strongest within every regard and prepared to fight right down to the last man. So Bi-Han was more then well adhered to licking his own wounds when hurt, to taking care of himself to the point he had became self sufficient as a result.

So whenever you showed him a spec of kindness and patience was foreign to him. Bi-Han naturally felt himself wanting to fall back into the things that he has felt comfortable with his entire life. So at first he’d try to push you away and bother someone else by acting like his usual cold and harsh self, but when you’ve showed him time and time again that, no matter what he did or said, you weren’t going anywhere soon.

You stood by him despite his protests and exemplified a deep, unwavering loyalty that -in Bi-Han’s opinion- not many people possessed.

At first it annoyed him that you wouldn’t leave him to be on his own when it came to the moments where he was seemingly at his most vulnerable, finding it to be an intentional act of dismissal towards his wishes to being alone. However overtime Bi-Han had slowly but surly grown to find comfort within your presence during the more intense moments in his life; so much so to the point where he’d actively sought you out on his own accord to accompany him on walks or to just sit with him.

You had managed to get him to tolerate you, even if it was by a little bit, it was an achievement none the less. Upon seeing your expressions of happiness when he asks for your company had Bi-Han fighting back a genuine smile, finding your smile infectious, and feeling thankful that he was wearing his mask at the time.

This was the moment where his ice cold heart had started to thaw.

Gentle touches or just touching in general;

Bi-Han’s hands were rough, full of callouses and had an assortment of scars littered across them.

The same description could be used to describe Bi-Han as a whole as he had spent his life tailoring his body to become an instrument of destruction. A deadly weapon that didn’t flinch under any pressure but would buckle beneath a gentle caresses of the skin.

Not once had he experienced a gentle and loving touch like yours before, so when the pads of your fingers gently explored the expanse of his strong biceps, the muscles underneath your touch would tense up, as though they were frozen solid, before relaxing a little afterwards upon realising that he wasn’t in any danger.

Every time you touched Bi-Han, whether it’d be his hand, his bicep, his jaw or his face, he felt his breath hitch in his throat and his body quiver beneath your tender touches, just like he always did. Bi-Han wouldn’t admit it to anyone but he adored your touches to the point they became an essentially in his life. However the only problem with that was the fact you and Bi-Han weren’t romantically together. (Yet)

Bi-Han would always and forever remember the first time he experienced your touch until the day he died. It was after a mission and Bi-Han had came back to the Lin Kuei with his fair share of injuries and was quickly tended to within the medbay, where you were stood at his side like his own personal guard dog.

And that’s when you frost grabbed for Bi-Han’s hand for comfort, having worried yourself sick over him despite having full confidence within his abilities, and that’s when you felt Bi-Han froze completely. Thankfully his wounds were fully treated and was left to his own devices, for if the medics stayed, they would’ve been greeted with Bi-Han’s dark eyes widen slightly, heard his sharp inhale and see his hand cautiously shifted to better hold your own; his thumb rubbing across your knuckles as a means of reassurance.

Reminding him that he’s only human and inserting yourself when he’s disregarding his own health;

Bi-Han might be the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei but at the end of the day, he was as human as the next person. For Bi-Han had never once questioned his own decisions. Never. He could envision the future of the Lin Kuei clear as day and strived to ensure that he’d achieve that future with each and every opportunity.

He suffers from fatigue, he gets frustrated, he gets upset and he faces constant hardships. Just like any other human and before he met you, he would’ve pushed past all these limitations and bring himself to the brink of collapse due to his own neglect, but ever since he had the honour of meeting and getting to know you, he’s learnt to accept help now and then.

Even though that help primarily came from you as Bi-Han had positioned you highly in his life and would use this as a subtle way of showing you that level of respect he held for you. However just like any other human, Bi-Han would often times revert back to moments where he believes that he didn’t require help, and it wouldn’t be until you had to physically insert yourself into the situation in order to remind him that he wasn’t a one man army like he’s lead himself believe.

This often lead to disputes between the two of you but it was all worth it as it only proved to Bi-Han that you were more than willing to bring him back down to reality and see reason, even if it meant having to butt heads with him to do so, as his pride frequently get the better of him in a multitude of ways.

Bi-Han finally goes for it;

When the day finally had came for Bi-Han to confront you about his feelings, he was awkwardly stiff about it, but that’s what made it all the more memorable in your eyes, for you were able to claim that you were blessed to witness another side of Bi-Han that not many could would be able to say the same.

He would intentionally hand pick specific places where he’d wished to take you, and all the while under the guise of accompanying him on a walk to discuss important matters in regards to the Lin Kuei.

So imagine your surprise when Bi-Han guides you by the hand to an familiar spot that held sentimental significance to the both of you, admitting that he lied in order to get you away from everyone else just so he could discus all he wanted to say.

He would cut the bullshit and get straight to the chase by admitting how he’s felt over the course of your blossoming relationship, from how he used to be annoyed by the fact that you wanted to spend time with him, all the way through to how he felt about you now. Which included his need to withdraw from you, push you away in hopes that you never find your way back to him in fear of inevitably hurting you, but upon closer self reflection -and an deep consultation with Kuai Liang- Bi-Han confessed as to how far away he felt despite being next to you.

Wanting nothing more then to close that invisible gap between the two of you but being far too conflicted within himself to do so. During his speech you were within your emotions and not wanting to waste anymore time then you’ve already had second guessing everything, you brought Bi-Han’s speech to a halt by cupping his face between your hands, practically beaming, before bringing him into a searing kiss.

You couldn’t help it, he was being too handsome and too fucking perfect for you to not kiss his plump lips until you couldn’t anymore.

The confession was cute, it was genuine, it was orchestrated with a whole love of attention to detail and love that it felt very much like something Bi-Han himself had put together.

all that mattered however, was the fact that you and Bi-Han finally got what you both wanted.

#mk1 #mk1 x reader #mk imagine #mk x reader #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat imagines #mortal kombat imagine #mortal kombat x y/n #mortal kombat 1 x reader #mortal kombat x you #bi han imagines #bi han imagine #bi han x reader #bi han x y/n #bi han x you #sub zero x reader

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elizais · 3 months

Note

okok may i request headcanons/drabbles on bsd boys (pref dazai, chuuya, jouno, tecchou, fyodor, tachihara, sigma, nikolai??) with a gf who has glasses but is almost blind without them? like velma in scooby doo, she needs her glasses and panics when she fr can't find them? thank you so much with glitters and sparkles!!

ofc! i'll split this into 2/3 parts though for the boys u asked for if any1 wants more!!

when their gf needs glasses (and they get lost)

like the request!! drabbles for each. featuring: dazai, chuuya, fyodor!! more parts will come warnings: dazai being a shit (lovingly),, drabbles dividers by @cafekitsune мышь = mouse (google translate so idk)

"osamu?" she called out, concern slightly tinting her voice. "yes, bella? everything alright?" he responded, on the other side of the bathroom door.

"yes, well, no but-" she stumbled over her words, opening the door as she was covered in a fluffy towel. he waited for her to catch her breath, knowing what she was missing. taking in a deep breath, "i can't find my glasses."

she didn't tend to lose her glasses, only taking them off for sleeping, showering and getting changed. very rarely having any other reason to do so. osamu chuckled at her, squinting her eyes to make out his facial expression. "have you seen them?" she asked him, walking towards her bedroom to put on clothes.

"i'll look now, dear." he smiled, knowing he placed them on a shelf she cannot reach. in his defence, he wanted her to ask him for help! she was so self sufficient after all..

she walked out of the bedroom, hitting her hip on the corner of a table slightly. "my, my.. you really need those glasses!" he teased as he ruffled her hair. an unimpressed look was plastered over her face, replacing her glasses. "yes, i do, osamu!". she ran a hand through her hair, trying to calm herself down.

"do you know where you last took them off?" he asked, of course he knew that she left them on the end table outside the bathroom. thats where he picked them up. she nodded her head, pointing to the end table that did not have the glasses.

he took her hand in his, suddenly feeling bad for what he had done. it was not worth seeing her so stressed out over some glasses. he walked her into the office room.

she didn't seem to realise it was osamu who had moved her glasses, so, to stay in her good books he looked around with her. when her back was turned, he took the glasses off of the shelf and put them on the desk beneath it.

"oh, darling! here they are!" he smiled as you turned around. he handed them to her and was pleased to see her smile back. "was it you, 'samu?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

he nodded slowly. she clicked her tongue before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

chuuya walked into the apartment, usually being greeted with a hug and a kiss but not today. it was too early for her to be asleep, he wandered where she was before he heard a frustrated groan.

"doll?" he spoke, wondering what was wrong. he heard her gasp as she ran into the front room to him. she greeted him with a hug quickly, throwing herself against him - chuuya having to catch her.

"hey chuu.." she kissed his cheek. she didn't want to have her worries affect him but she needed help. he gently placed her down and immediately notice the absence of her glasses.

"well you don't have to look at me like that." he sarcastically remarked as he pretended to be annoyed. he laughed at her squinting eyes. "did you lose your specs?" he asked.

"don't call them that, you geek!" she smacked him on the bicep gently before sighing, "yeah."

he pretended to wince in pain, holding the spot she hit.

"well i was going to help you, but i don't think you deserve to see now!" he joked. "where did you last have them, princess?" he kissed her forehead before adding in his pet name for her.

"i was taking a nap on the couch, and i think i put them either on the armrest by my head or on the coffee table." she exasperatedly exclaimed, throwing an arm in the direction of the living room.

chuuya instantly put together a theory, he walked over, hearing her footsteps behind him. she must have knocked them off from wherever they were in her sleep.

he activated his ability and touched the couch, letting it float up a metre or so. he crouched down and grabbed the glasses and slowly lowered the couch. she wasn't able to see the specifics of what happened but saw him walk towards her with a smug look on his face.

"here you go, doll." he held out the glasses, but before she could grab them he let them float to the ceiling. "costs a kiss to get them back!" he flicked her forehead.

she sighed, "i suppose i'll have to pay for another pair then.." she joked, earning an exaggerated shocked look from chuuya. she kissed his lips softly and caught the glasses as he lowered them.

fyodor was sat in his office, typing away on his computer in serious concentration.

in another room, he heard objects being moved around. last he checked, his partner was asleep. he heard her footsteps near before the door to his office opened.

spinning around in his chair, "мышь, is something troubling you?" he asked, receiving a small nod in response. "i can't find my glasses, my head hurts because i'm squinting, i feel gross, and i'm cold." she rattled off.

"where did you take them off, dear?" he queried. she shrugged. "i fell asleep on you when you were researching and woke up in our bed. thank you for taking me to the bed but i don't know where i put them!!" she gestured wildly, nervously cracking her fingers before he stood up.

he held her hands so she would stop with her nervous tic, "go take a shower love, and stop squinting. i will find them if it stresses you out so much." he hummed, softly rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles.

she went to the bathroom, fyodor was racking his brain for when she took them off. he thought she possibly left them in the car, he shuddered at the thought of going out in the cold weather to check the car. but, he put on his shoes and grabbed his coat.

before touching the door handle, he thought he is better to put his ushanka on. not wanting his head to be cold either.

walking towards the office she fell asleep in his arms on top of the chair in, he lifted up his ushanka. a pair of glasses with a few traces of fluff on them from the hat sat on the table.

letting out a sigh of relief as he didn't have to go out in the cold, he opted not to tell you it was his fault you couldn't spot your glasses.

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extasiswings · 1 month

Text

too tired to keep lying

7x06 spec...no I can't explain myself. On ao3 here.

Buck hates hospitals. He’s spent far too much time in them, sent too many patients to them, seen too much loss—he hates hospitals. But the part he hates the most isn’t the antiseptic smell or the fluorescent lighting or the smug doctors who act like they’re so much better than the lowly paramedics. The part he hates the most is the helplessness. When there’s nothing else to do but wait and see.

Wait and see.

Buck watches from several feet away as a doctor speaks with Maddie. Chim is still in surgery, has been for hours, and Buck knows he should be trying to do more, should at least cross the room and wrap an arm around his sister, help her stay standing, but he can’t make himself move in that direction. Because he can’t bear to see her look at him right now, knowing that he wasn’t able to stop this from happening, wasn’t able to protect her from this.

Buck’s stomach lurches and his feet unstick, sending him in the opposite direction from Maddie. Sending him to the exit.

His shoulder bumps someone as he passes through the door, and a hand grips his bicep for balance—a familiar hand. He exhales in a heavy gust of air as he steadies himself, then looks up into Eddie’s face.

“Any news?” Eddie asks quietly.

Buck shakes his head. “He’s still in surgery.”

Eddie nods once, then follows Buck as he keeps moving towards the main doors. Once they cross the threshold into the parking lot, the sun high in the sky is a reminder of how long he’s been waiting for news. There are messages on his phone—from Bobby, from Hen, from Tommy even, which is a tangle he can’t even begin to think about right now—but he can’t think about them, can’t return any of them. He can’t—

“They’re supposed to be getting married today,” he whispers. “In four hours. They’re supposed to be getting married, and instead—instead they’re—and I—I can’t—I don’t know w—what I—”

Eddie’s hand closes tightly around his, and Eddie’s arm closes around Buck’s waist to keep him standing. And Buck can’t help himself—he turns his face into Eddie’s neck and breathes, he lets Eddie take his weight, lets himself lean into the support that he hasn’t allowed himself to accept from anyone else.

“I should be making calls,” Buck says as Eddie’s warmth seeps into him, burning away the icy chill of numbness. “There are things to cancel—the caterers and flowers and—someone has to—”

“You don’t,” Eddie assures. “You don’t have to do anything.”

“But someone has to tell everyone that there’s—” Buck’s voice cracks. A shudder wracks him and Eddie’s hold tightens. “—that there’s not going to be a wedding today.”

Eddie stiffens for a moment, but before Buck can ask why, Eddie turns his head, his mouth grazing the edge of Buck’s jaw.

Buck freezes, then goes hot. An accident, he tells himself. Eddie definitely wouldn’t have done that on purpose, right? Eddie is—Eddie isn’t—Eddie wouldn’t—

Against his will, a hazy vision rises in the back of Buck’s mind—one that he’s been trying to figure out whether it’s a dream or a memory since Chim’s bachelor party a week ago.

Eddie’s hands on his bare chest, Eddie’s tongue in his mouth, the kiss broken by both of them laughing when Buck knocks over a glass of wine onto his pants—

Buck shivers, and almost misses it when Eddie says—

“There could be.”

“What?”

Eddie swallows hard, pulling back enough that his eyes can meet Buck’s. “There could still be a wedding today.”

“Considering the groom is unconscious on a surgical table and the bride is stuck waiting for news in the waiting room, trying to keep their child calm, I’m pretty sure that’s not—”

Eddie cuts Buck off with a kiss, swallowing the shocked noise Buck makes. And this kiss, Buck can’t ignore. This kiss, Buck can’t write off as a dream or a drunk hallucination. This kiss—this kiss is real, and right, and Buck feels like he’s been hit with lightning all over again, but he also feels like he’s come home, like he finally understands—

Fuck. Buck breaks the kiss with a gasp, wrenching himself back. “I—I—I—Eddie, I have a boyfriend.”

He doesn’t want to say it, he doesn’t want to stop, doesn’t want to think at all. But he’s not 26 anymore—he knows better than to avoid difficult things by burying himself in sex. So he knows that he has to say it. He has to—

“I know,” Eddie replies, and his voice is soft, his eyes are gentle. His hands are warm and steady and sure as they slide up Buck’s arms to his face. “I know you do. Right now. But I’m saying—I’m asking—”

Uncertainty flickers for the first time in Eddie’s gaze, and Buck would give anything to take that away. So despite the fact that he knows better, despite the fact that he’s supposed to be so much more responsible now, despite everything—he leans in and kisses Eddie again.

Eddie murmurs something into the kiss that Buck misses in the haze of heat that floods him.

“What?” He breathes as the kiss breaks again.

Eddie’s thumb passes over his cheekbone and Buck shivers again as his eyes flutter shut.

“Marry me,” Eddie repeats. “Marry me today. Because tomorrow isn’t promised to anyone and I know—I know it sounds crazy. Because yes, I know you have a boyfriend, but I’m saying—I’m saying you could have a husband. I’m saying that I could be your husband. Because I’ve loved you for so long and I think maybe you love me too, and I know I’ve been a coward—I know. I should have told you years ago, I should have told you so many times, I never should have waited so long. But if you let me—if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you, because I am in love with y—”

Everything around Buck disappears. Everything narrows to white noise and Eddie’s face and those words repeating on a loop as the last several years of memories play back like a flipbook. And it’s like a puzzle piece clicks into place, like a key turns in a lock, everything making sense in a way he hadn’t thought was possible.

“You love me?”

Eddie blows out a breath. “More than anything. Do you—” he clears his throat. “—do you love me?”

And it’s right, so very right, when Buck pauses as the flipbook of their lives keeps playing back, and he says—

“Yes. Yes, I love you.”

The smile that breaks over Eddie’s face is brighter than the sun, and steals the breath from Buck’s lungs.

“So…you’ll marry me? Today?”

Buck kisses him again. And when he pulls back, he takes a breath. And gives him an answer.

#chapel writes #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie fic #911 fic

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muddyorbsblr · 1 year

Text

not a fever

See the full 14 Days Collection here! See my full list of works here!

Summary: You're quarantined in the laboratory with James Conrad as you try to determine what the effects of the pollen he was exposed to are.

Pairing: James Conrad x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, i better not see you here if you know what's good for you); sex pollen; p in v

Things to be aware of: reader's a bit insecure; snarky tension between reader & Conrad

"Is this truly necessary? This is an allergic reaction to the pollen, which can be rectified with a quick shot of antihistamines, rehydration, and bed rest. You're overreacting, Y/L/N."

You smirked at the tracker's impatience. "Right. You know what you're absolutely one hundred percent right. How could I be so silly, Doctor Conrad. It's just some foreign flora that we encountered in an island that contained giant lizard creatures and a baby gorilla the size of half a skyscraper after all. But you're right. This is probably just an allergic reaction."

He winced as you pulled the needle from his arm, though you couldn't tell if it was from the slight sting that always came with blood extraction or if it was from your sarcasm-laden retort.

"There's a water in the cooler back there," you said dismissively, already starting on running the mass spec to process his blood. "Sleeping quarters are at the end of the hall."

"Y/N--"

"If this is really just allergies I'll administer the antihistamines myself. Until then, hydration and bed rest, right? So go. I'll let you know as soon as I get the results back."

You froze at the feel of his hand around your arm, suddenly quite aware of the warmth from his body's proximity to yours. "I'm sorry. Please, I don't like it when--"

"Look you could still be right, so save your apology for later. Just rest and let me run these tests so we can get back out there already. Okay?"

The only thing you heard was a sigh and his footsteps exiting the lab, the silence finally allowing you to let yourself release the tension that had you wound up over the last ten minutes. You strictly forbade yourself to let your guard down around James Conrad. You were convinced that the man was so arrogantly aware of how attractive he was that before he'd joined in these crusades with Monarch, you were sure that he could just snap his fingers and the nearest woman would strip on the spot for him.

You were even more convinced that if you ever let him close to you, he wouldn't even need to snap his fingers.

And now you were secluded with him in the laboratory area of the ship, being the sorry scientist that drew the short end of the stick to quarantine with him while you confirmed that the pollen that was dusted all over his face when he was assisting in the unloading of the samples your team had collected was not going to cause the world's next plague.

"Stupid James Conrad volunteering to unload the crates just so he could flex his biceps around Miss Pretty and Perfect Photographer Mason Weaver," you grumbled as you watched the screen begin to load with the component breakdown of the organic material that began to spread through the tracker's bloodstream.

The sound of the walkie-talkie crackling at your desk broke you out of your mass spec trance.

"Y/L/N?? Are you there??"

You picked up the crackling device. "What's up, Marlow? You got anything from those Iwi legends about this flower that dusted Conrad? Did we accidentally start the new plague?" Are we gonna die? you wanted to ask.

"I found something in the journals I had that looks like the flower, and the good news is that no. You're not going to die being exposed to him." His wording made a pit form in your stomach. "The bad news is that if you don't find a way to counteract the effects of the pollen he might die."

You felt your blood go cold at the new information. "Wh--What? Why? How?" Your questions came out muted, as if your voice couldn't even manage to form the questions. Of course it couldn't. It refused to.

"The pollen…it builds off of the person's desire," Marlow explained. "It builds and builds in a fever until they burn. Or until the desire is sated."

Your mouth felt dry. "So sex."

"Remember what I said, Y/N. It builds off of their existing desire. Whoever it is that he thinks of when he's alone at night, that's who can save him from this."

Someone may as well have laid your head on a guillotine and let the blade come down. "Is Weaver there?"

"What is it, Y/N?" the woman's voice rang clear despite the crackling nature of the device. Great, even technology bent for this woman. "Is there anything we can bring over to help you two? Ice bags? Water?"

"Condoms?" you heard Brooks holler from the background.

"Brooks, not now," the photographer scolded.

"We'll be needing you to come over to the lab, Miss Weaver." You did your best to sound formal and not as bitter as you felt. Of course it would be her. Those two looked like a couple of dolls turned human, they even looked like a couple, so she was the obvious choice. "To resolve Mister Conrad's…situation."

Her melodic laughter floated around your lab, furthering your irrational dislike toward the woman. "Trust me when I say this, Y/N. It's not me. He's my friend, practically my brother. And last I checked he likes them brainy. Like…mega brainy."

"Please just make your way to the laboratory as soon as you can. His life could be at stake." Your words were now clipped, your entire system in complete disbelief that she could be so flippant about this.

She huffed from her end. "Fine. I'm on my way. But only to tell you I told you so. Now, you should probably check on him and make sure he's not burning up."

That had you moving down the hall to the sleeping quarters faster than you cared to admit. When you got close to the door, your legs began to move faster at the sound of pained groans coming from where he was supposed to be taking a nap.

"Conrad? Are you okay in there?"

The only response was more groaning, prompting you to quickly open the door and walk into the small room. The sight that greeted you as you walked in had you frozen where you stood, as he stood facing the wall, shirt discarded and well-defined sweaty back muscles on full display, hands on the back of his head as he pressed his forehead to the cool wall.

"Are we contagious?" he asked you, terse and peppered with his signature brand of impatience that had you wanting to either smack him across his mouth or kiss him so he'd shut up.

"We're not. Marlow consulted the Iwi legends. It's only affecting you. The pollen was made to make the subject--"

"Feral? Rabid? Overcome with the desire to fuck?"

Dammit why were his words making you hot all of a sudden, too? Damn that stupidly perfect voice.

"I wouldn't put it that way, but yeah. Legend says that since it builds off of your desire, you have to be with…well, someone you desire."

"And if I don't I die?"

"The fever will burn you alive from the inside out, yes."

He scoffed at your answer. "So I'm going to die from desperation and licentiousness. I'd have rather died on the island. Arrrrgh!" He turned around and pressed his back to the wall this time, letting out an obscene sounding moan in relief.

"I already called Weaver she's on her way here--" you said at the same time as he breathed out "You need to get out of here."

He scoffed once again, keeping his eyes closed as he had them turned upward toward the ceiling. "You clueless girl, I don't desire Mason. Now please, darling, you need to leave this room. I won't have you see me like this."

Your eyes defiantly flickered downward at his words and you nearly bit a hole through your cheek as you caught sight of the bulging erection straining against the zipper of his pants, the sound of the velcro of the fly slowly opening from the force echoing around the room that was getting smaller as the moments ticked on.

"Hey, what kind of person would I be if I just left you here to die alone? Don't worry about me. Besides, I'm safe," you babbled, chuckling nervously toward the end.

The dark chuckle that escaped him made you painfully more aware of the wetness pooling between your legs. "And how exactly are you safe in this small room, with me? In this state? I could break you, little one."

Your nostrils flared at his go-to insult. "Ah, but you won't. Because I'm not your type." Those words made his eyes snap open, looking at you with a ferocity that had the rest of your words stopping at the back of your throat in a lame squeak, all thoughts in your head dying on the spot as you saw that his eyes were nearly black from how blown out his pupils were.

You tried your best to mask the bitterness in your tone as you said the words, too. Why was it that it was this man, of all the people on this mission, that you ended up getting unbearably attracted to? And why was it that he had to be a full asshole and still you couldn't shake your unrelenting desire for him?

His eyebrows furrowed together as he looked at you, an almost tenderness in the blacked out orbs taking you by surprise. "You truly believe that?" You gave him a look as if to say 'duh', which made him hit the back of his head against the wall lightly. "You beautiful, naive woman," he nearly growled before stalking toward you, grabbing you by the back of your head and pulling you into a heated kiss.

It felt like a wildfire had caught and spread throughout your body, down to the tips of your fingers as he held you close to him, his lips moving frantically against yours, as if he couldn't get enough. You placed your hands on his chest, trying to break the kiss, but all you could do was sigh against his lips as he wrapped an arm around you and lifted you easily off the ground, pushing you against the closed door. "C-Conrad," you gasped as his lips moved to your neck, his attentions sure to leave a mark. "This won't help you, Conrad. Please, just wait a few more minutes, Mason's on her way—"

"She will be no help, because it's you that I desire," he moaned against your skin, his hand deftly undoing the button and pulling down the zipper of your shorts. "You can tell me to stop. If you don't want this you can--"

"And what, let you die? Yeah no that's not gonna be on me," you huffed out. "Besides, I want this, too."

The only response from him was a sound between a grunt and a growl as he lifted you from the wall and laid you down on the small single size mattress at the corner of the room. "I'll make it up to you, I promise." His words came out rushed as he removed the shorts and panties from your legs in gentle tugs.

"Let's talk later when you're not dying from island pollen, okay?" He only gave you a little smirk as he unzipped the fly of his pants, only hearing the sound of his pants being pushed down this endless legs as he pressed heated kisses up your inner thighs.

A loud moan escaped you as you felt his feverish lips press a kiss to your folds, his tongue darting out and briefly licking into your entrance before kissing his way up your clothed body. You let out a whimpered moan of his name as he lined himself up to your entrance and pushed his way in with hurried thrusts, a fullness overtaking you followed by a mix of pleasure and pain as you began to feel the stretch of your walls to accommodate his size.

"F-Fuck, little one, you're p-perfect," he stuttered. "Even b-better than I dreamed."

Your thoughts were a haze, too lost in the feel of him mercilessly thrusting into you, like he was impatient to finally finish off the effects of the exotic pollen coursing through him. As impatient as he was in all things. But those words. Those words somehow burrowed into you more and more with every snap of his hips against yours.

He dreamt of this, too?

When his movements became staggered he reached a hand in between you to where your bodies were joined, his fingers starting to rub tight circles on your clit and making you jerk your hips even harder against his. "Conrad--!"

"Come with me, darling," he grunted before pressing his lips to your neck and rocking his hips even faster into yours, pushing you both over the edge. You felt your whole body quivering as your walls clenched and fluttered around him, flooding you with his own release.

You felt his movements slow, become more measured. Tender, even. Your heart began to constrict in your chest as he proceeded to press his lips to your temple and your cheek as you came down from your high, your chest still heaving as you still struggled to breathe properly after he'd taken you so frantically. Parts of your mind were already beginning to question if any of it was even real despite the startling realization that he was still inside you.

And still hard.

"Is your fever gone?" you breathed out, small whimpers escaping you as he worked his hand under your shirt and cupped your breast, his thumb rubbing at your nipple in slow, teasing circles while he trailed his kisses back to your mouth, capturing your lips in a soft kiss.

"It is. Though I can't say quite the same for my desire." You moaned into his mouth as he slowly began to move inside you again. "I don't think that would go away for a long while."

A/N: Would you look at that, I finally wrote sex pollen smut 🥴🫡 Also just to be sure we're all on the same page with this, she thinks "little one" is an insult, meanwhile he actually calls her that affectionately. Because she's smol and he just wants to protect her 🥹💖

'everything' taglist: @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @imalovernotahater @mygfloki @lucylaufeyson3 @thomase1 @fictive-sl0th @mochie85 @laliceee @xorpsbane @gigglingtigger @silverfire475 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @vickie5446 @salempoe @lokixryss @sinsandguilt @lokidbadguy @alexakeyloveloki @glitterylokislut @cakesandtom @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mischief2sarawr @thedistractedagglomeration @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @huntress-artemiss @lilibet261 @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lovingchoices14 @devilsadvocactus @lokiprompts @sititran @ladyjames78 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @kats72 @creationsbyme @coldnique @athalialaufeyson @simplyholl @tallseaweed @sarahscribbles @unlucky-number-13 @ozymdias @maple-seed @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfsmom1 @km-ffluv @psychospore @loopsisloops @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @lovelysizzlingbluebird

#14 days of valentines collection #james conrad x reader #james conrad x female reader #james conrad smut #james conrad x reader smut #james conrad fanfic #james conrad fanfiction #muddyorbs writes

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specs-tacularmen · 9 months

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With a name like mine, you gotta be super, or you’re doomed to be a geek!

#shazwan zafran #specs and muscle #specs and pecs #asian specs #specs and abs #asian muscle worship #specs and biceps #м'язи

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thomasisaslut · 10 months

Text

Lucius Malfoy x F!Reader

Masquerade

Word Count: 2.5k

Includes: Hair-pulling, Legilimency, Rough sex, Spanking, Choking, Overstimulation.

On Ao3 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/48667630

On Wattpad - https://www.wattpad.com/story/346976540-𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐞-𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐮𝐬-𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲-𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭

C.ai for Lucius -

On Tumblr 👇

"[First Name]!" You hear Draco's voice as you enter through the doors of the large Malfoy manor.

You sigh, clearly Draco can't be fooled by your mask, he really knew you too well.

"Draco," You smile at him as he approaches you.

"Great party."

He smiles proudly. "I know, I designed the whole thing."

"Really? Good job, Dray." You smile and take in his appearance, his suit was black and clearly expensive. It had beautiful silver embroidery along with the Malfoy crest on his right bicep and entire backside, it also had a rich green as a secondary color, lapping and intwining into a snake around the crest. Not to mention his masquerade mask that matched perfectly, it was black and green—silver accents to flow as a stunning outfit.

"Was your suit custom tailored?" You ask him, you knew the answer already though.

"Yes, Father sent it to our personal tailor to get it made." He smirks then hooks his arm around your own.

"I can't help but to notice your outfit as well, [First Name]. It's quite beautiful."

Your dress was a beautiful jade color with golden aspects, the straps and midsection of the gown were covered in small emeralds, it also fades down towards the end of the magnificent dress, by your heels were emeralds flowing up the dress to connect with the midsection. Not to mention your jewelry matched perfectly. You had a golden necklace with small specs of shattered crystals blended into it, your earrings and bracelets matched as well. Also, your golden mask was the same.

"Thank you, Draco."

"Of course, care for a dance?" He smiles, letting go of your arm to offer out his hand.

"Take me away." You smile back and place your hand in his own, once the two hands are intwined he moves you over to the dance floor in the room.

The two of you sway together in a traditional ball style dance, soon others join in but your eyes fall on someone in the corner of the ball room—Lucius Malfoy.

You couldn't help but to look. His hair was up and back tied with a black ribbon, his outfit the same as Draco's except his was golden—much more expensive—his mask matched his outfit as well. But what is the most distracting is the fact that his facial features are much more revealed with his hair back, even with a mask covering his upper face. He cocks his head to the side and take a sip from a small glass in his hand, it seems to be whiskey but you can't tell. His adam apple bobs as he drinks the liquor, his jawline define and covered with newly grown facial hair. It looks hot.

"Having fun are you?" Draco asks, your attention snaps back to him.

"Indeed." You reply, the two of you still dancing until the music halts, the room stops as the music does. The room turns their head to where the clink of a glass is, there stands Narcissa Malfoy-Black. You can tell by her hair and figure.

She stops clinging her glass with the knife and speaks.

"I would like to thank you all for coming." She removes her masquerade mask then continues to talk.

"I personally would like to congratulate my son for being able to graduate at such a high level—as valedictorian." The room applauses, you smile at Draco and he walks towards his mother.

You notice Lucius isn't with the rest of his family so you glance to where he was before to see him looking right back at you. You also notice a small smirk plastered across his face as he takes a final sip of his whiskey.

The only thing that snapped you away from your trance was the sound of your friends voice.

"Thank you all," Draco speaks proudly, his mothers arm hooked around his own as she smiles proudly at him.

"I am so happy you have all managed to make this event," He too removes his ball mask.

"I would also like to announce my betrothal, Astoria Greengrass." The girl he mentioned steps up beside him, she was wearing a beautiful sky blue dress crested with white, shiny, pearls. Her mask was the purest of whites that matched her gloves and other accessories. She removes her mask and smiles at the gathering.

The two of them continue to ramble and you finally get sick of it, you walk over to where some of the house elves are serving liquors to get a glass of your own, that is until you hear a voice you recognize.

"Ms. [Last Name]?" Lucius asks from behind you, you look over your shoulder then turn around.

"Mr. Malfoy," You smile at him, but luckily the masquerade mask covers your annoyance.

"Are you certain you're old enough to drink, dear?" He smirks, clearly teasing—after all, he has known you for some time now.

"I'm 19, sir. Are you sure you're not too old to drink, dear?" You mock, teasing him right back.

He chuckles. "You have always been feisty, I like that." He smirks once again, grabbing two glasses from a passing by house elf—he hands one too you.

"Champagne, I'm sure you can handle that, Ms. [Last Name]?" Lucius' tone is very... seductive.

You nod and take the glass from his hand, your fingers brushing over his knuckles as you take the champagne.

The two of you cheers then take sips from your glasses.

"Tell me, darling." He turns towards you, now standing directly in front of you so no one else in the ball room could see your face if they looked over.

"Why were you looking—no—staring at me the entire time you were dancing with my son?"

Your cheeks flush beneath the golden mask.

"Your hair is very neat this way, Mr. Malfoy." You say, while you do think that is true it's not the real reason. After all, you can't just say you were imagining Draco as him.

"Oh? You imagined my son to be me?" He smirks as he watched your cheeks grow from pink to red in under a second.

"Excuse me, sir?" You ask, baffled at how he knew.

He smirks and uses his index finger to cup your chin, making you look up at his larger figure.

"Legilimency, darling, I work at the ministry." He moves his hand so it's now on your throat.

"Tell me, amour, what other thoughts do you have about me?" Lucius grins.

Dirty ones.

You notice his own cheeks flush—only a bit, a light dusty pink—and he smirks again.

"Oh? Is that so?"

"I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Malfoy..." You mutter, your eyes still locked on his ocean blue ones as he holds you by your throat.

"What for, amour?" He moves to whisper by your ear. "I'm sure we can make those thoughts a reality." He then presses a light kiss under your ear before pulling away and finishing his champagne glass and turning around towards the rest of the party.

You go to reply when you get cut off.

"[First Name]!" Draco says, he clearly didn't see anything that his father did to you, especially the kiss.

"Care for one more dance before it hits midnight?"

"O-Of course, Dray." You smile at him, your thoughts now polluted by thoughts of his father—Lucius.

The two of you make your way back towards the dance floor, spinning and twirling as you did before except now you make sure to remain eye contact with Lucius. Smirking at him as you plant a small peck to Draco's cheek, you can see the older man clutch his whiskey glass so hard it almost shatters in his hand.

Around 5 minutes pass of you and Draco swaying on the ball room floor before you see Lucius approaching you too, his gaze hardened under his black mask.

"Son, may I have a word with Ms. [Last Name]?" He asks, but his tone is not questionable, its a demand.

"Of course fath-"

Draco gets cut off as Lucius grabs your wrist, quite tightly at that. He drags you off into a large room attached to the party's room. Once in the room your back is pinned to the wall, your hands held above your head by one of his large palms.

"Mr. Mal-"

"You flirt with my son after having fantasies about me?" He snaps.

You say nothing and just stare at him, his beautiful features now fully revealed—his mask is off.

"Answer me, [First Name]."

"I wasn't flirting-"

"Yes you were." He uses his free hand to grab your jaw, making you look up at him again.

"Now tell me, why." Lucius asks demandingly.

"I wanted your attention..."

"Well you got it." He snaps, pushing your chest down onto a nearby couch-back. You're now bent over the couch.

"I think you deserve a punishment for being naughty, don't you think so, amour?" His hands rests on your hips as he smirks down at you.

You nod.

"Not good enough, dear," His hand connects with your rear in a punishable spank.

"Use your words, sweetheart."

"Y-Yes..." You whimper, both liking and disliking the feeling on your lower half.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir!" You whine, his hand connects with your other butt-cheek.

"Good, amour." He moves a step closer so his crotch is rubbing against your behind as you're bent over the couch.

"You're going to count aloud how many spanks you receive. If you mess up... well sweetheart, we restart." He smirks.

You nod, understanding. Even with the awkward and painful situation you can't help but feel turned on, a sudden wetness forming in your folds.

"Good job, darling." He says before connected his hand to your ass.

"T-Three..." You mutter out as your hands clutch onto the side of the couch tightly.

He spanks you again,

"Four!" You cry out, some tears slipping from your eyelids.

His hand connects with your rear repetitively until you reach 20 full spanks, by the end of the punishment your cheeks are sore and red.

His hands are now massaging and soothing your rear as he speaks.

"You did so well, amour. Now how about we start the fun part?" He flips you around then moves you over to the other side of the couch, now setting you on your back, he moves between your legs.

He looks back up at you for confirmation.

"Please, sir..." You whimper, wanting to feel him.

He smirks, flipping up the train of your dress.

"Beautiful..."

His hands find their way to your panties, sliding then off of you and tossing them to the floor.

"Are you a virgin, [First Name]?" He asks, curious.

You shake your head no, he smirk's wider.

"Well... that's a shocker considering how dripping wet you are for me, amour." He says before slipping his index finger into your tight cunt.

You moan from the sudden insertion.

"And such good reactions... my, you're perfect..." He smirks then proceeds to slip in a second finger, now making a scissoring motion with his two large fingers.

"More, sir.. please!" You beg and he withdraws your fingers.

"But you've been so bad, dear."

God, he is just evil.

"I can't let you go unpunished,"

"But you spanked me, sir!" You whine.

"That was just the beginning, sweetheart." He grins before slamming three fingers into you, spreading you wider. He withdraws his hand again before flipping you over, Lucius quickly unzips your dress before ripping it off of you, throwing it to the floor with your panties you're now left nude before him.

Lucius then flips you back over, your perky tits now hard and on full display.

His hand connects with your right nipple before he uses his lips to suck and nip on the left.

You moan loudly, throwing your hands to his pure blonde locks.

"P-Please sir! I need more... I need you!" You beg.

He doesn't reply, instead he slows his pace, his tongue just barely grazing your hard nub, his hand now only pinching your right one as his left hand slides down to your pussy.

His fingers slide back into you, now toying with both your privates.

"Sir!" You moan and whine, your grip increasing on his hair.

"I need you, please!"

He finally let's your nipple slip from his mouth, his left hand sliding out of your wet cunt and his right falls from your tit.

"Are you sure you can take me, amour? I won't be gentle for the shit you pulled."

"Please!" Is the only word that falls from your mouth before his thick cock is slammed into you—completely bottoming out into you, he begins to thrust—not allowing you to adjust to the size.

"Oh? Something wrong, dear?" He teases as he sees tears forming in your eyes.

"Because I recall you begging for me to start."

Your mouth can't form words, your moan overtake your body as pleasure and pain spreads through it, the roughness from his thrusts is almost to much to take—almost.

"You take me so well, amour." He whispers into your ear before sinking his teeth into your neck—leaving a large hickey, he then begins to make love to your neck, the same roughness as he does with his pounds to your cunt.

He then moves you so you're riding him.

"It's time for you to do some work."

You groan and moan before rocking your hips, his cocks head hitting your cervix, you look down to see you're not even fully sat on his large member.

"Oh? Is there an issue?" He teases again, slamming your lips together as be bucks his hips up to match your rocking. The two of you now harmonized.

10 minutes of you riding him passes before he finally pushes you down onto your back again. You can feel yourself slipping, needing to release, you can tell he does too by the way his thrusts are getting more sloppy and less coordinated.

"Take it." He says before cumming deep inside of your tight little cunt.

You moan loudly as you feel his seed fill you up, your own release following.

"Lucius!" You shout as you climax, his cock still inside of you as he moves you to sit on his lap again. He then speaks.

"Im not done with you yet, darling."

He bucks his hips up, your head falling to his shoulder as you feel overstimulated.

"Please, sir... I can't-"

"Yes you can slut." He snaps, moving against you again and again, pounding and slamming into you as he holds your hips down.

Oh, how you love this.

"S-Shit.. [First Name]!" He shouts as he releases a second load into your overused pussy.

He then cups your cheeks, moving you off his lap he slides out of you, kissing your temple then forehead.

"Are you alright, amour?"

You nod,

"I'm fine... just dazed." You chuckle, he wraps his arms around you in a tight reassuring embrace.

"You were so well for me, sweetheart." He whispers, kissing your bruised neck and jaw.

You smile, completely spent and tired.

"Now, Ms. [Last Name]. I do believe we have a party to get back to?" He smirks.

Oh how evil this man can truly be.

#lucius malfoy #lucius x reader #lucius malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #smut #narcissa malfoy #astoria greengrass #background characters #masquerade mask

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smokeyfuzz · 1 year

Text

He didn’t do serious relationships. He didn’t have girlfriends. In fact, he’d only really slept with a handful of people casually - his time too absorbed with work and saving lives. So then why were you so hard to quit?

In which Satoru Gojo finds himself falling for a regular ‘ol human.

Note: Wrote with she/her pronouns.

They first met when he saved her life. She was just some girl who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time - found herself attacked by something she couldn’t even see, let alone probably comprehend.

He gazed down at her, passed out on the floor. Body covered in blood and cuts. Her chest barely rose, labored breathing.

The curses within the area had been easily taken care of once he had entered the premise, a color stated and move of his wrist and they were little more than a spec of dust.

He watched her eyes slowly open as he leaned down, arms slipping under her frame so he could bring her back to Shoko to fix up. She tried to speak, words bubbling to the surface but not quite finding ground, instead a pained moan as her hand moved to his face, blindfold over his eyes. Before it reached it, her hand collapsed against his chest instead, head falling limp as she slipped back into an unconscious state.

Gojo peered down at her now, naked and asleep beside him, limbs curled under the expensive silk sheets. She looked peaceful, hair splayed across the pillow and skin marked from various love bites and bruises. The sheet fell along her waist, exposing her back where he could make out the scar that stretched from the side of her hip and curved upward towards the middle of her spine. A reminder of that day.

It had been a few months since she had stumbled into his life and had somehow carved out a piece of residence in his heart. He’d never admit. Considered it a weakness - he’d lost enough in his twenty-eight years. So instead nights like these happen - meetings in hotel rooms or one another places where he buries himself in her: her touch, her laugh, her kisses, and her voice.

One night of passion all those months ago had turned into this - whatever this was.

He leaned forward, traced the scar before kissing her shoulder blade, then slowly and carefully slipped out of the bed. He reached for his boxer-briefs on the floor and pulled them on, moving towards the large window that overlooked the nightlife of Tokyo. Buildings were still vibrant with life, neon signs bright just as rain began to hit the glass of the window.

He sensed her before he saw her, felt her. Her energy engrained his own being. Limbs wrapped around his stomach as he felt a kiss to the middle of his back. She radiated heat, mumbling:

“It’s late. What are you doing up?”

He watched outside a moment longer, his own hands tracing over the skin of her forearms. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Come back to bed,” she said softly, tiredly as she kissed the back of his bicep, fingers finding his own before intertwining.

He hummed in response, turning toward her before his own arms wrapped around her waist. She had slipped into his t-shirt, twice her size and skimming her mid thighs. He felt a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips at the sight, and leaned down, capturing her lips in his own to hide the evidence of what could only be described as tenderness, butterflies hammering into his chest.

She stood on tiptoes, her own arms tracing his biceps before slipping into his hair as the kiss deepened. She finally pulled away with a breath, feeling his arousal pressed against her stomach.

“Bed’s a good idea,” he smirked, lips leaning down to nip at her jaw, under her ear where he knew a pleased and needy whine would slip out from her.

She keened into his touch, nodding her head before he was walking her backwards towards the bed. She collapsed onto the messy sheets, half-lidded eyes meeting his own as he slotted himself between her legs and moved on top of her. Like all the times before she wrapped her legs around his waist, his hand finding purchase on her now exposed thigh. His lips met her own once more, tongue slipping in as she moaned into his mouth, her hands finding home on his muscular back, nails raking the skin that sent a shiver down his spine and rut of his hips into her own.

“Satoru…” she groaned as she circled her own hips up into him. The shirt she had put on had risen up, pooled around her waist and leaving her exposed, completely nude underneath.

He pecked her lips, pleased smirk on his own before he slowly moved down her body. Kisses to her neck, collarbone, covered chest. He moved the shirt up further, pressed a kiss just above her belly button then down, down, down - lips to skin on her hips, one faintly against the bit of scar exposed, top of her thighs, and then the inside of her thighs as she spread her legs open for him with a pleased moan. He nipped and sucked further on a spot of skin so close to where she needed him, a loud noise leaving her as she chased his lips with her hips.

“P-please,” she whined, tired of his teasing, wanting so much more.

He pulled away from the spot where a hickey was now forming on the skin, eyes meeting her own. She pouted down at him, eyes glassy.

“Pretty girl,” he cooed, mocked, despite his own heart racing, his own cock hard. “All marked up. A mess. So beautiful like this.” He murmured the last words and she still caught them, one of her hands finding one of his own that was splayed across the top of her stomach. She entwined her fingers with him, thumb tracing his knuckle. Silently pleading. He loved when she watched him.

He kissed the marked spot on her thigh once more, eyes trained on her before he finally pressed a kiss to her sex. He nipped again, a long swipe of his tongue up her slit and she rotated her hips, a content sigh falling from her lips as she squeezed his hand. He buried himself between her thighs, tongue lapping at her clit as her own chest heaved above, mewls of pleasure and praise escaping her lips as his own hips began to ground into the bed for friction. His free hand moved to between her legs, fingers lightly grazing her hole before two pressed in. A loud moan fell from her lips, his name, as he pumped in and out of her, curled his fingers just right when he found that spot he had memorized to know got her to her release so well. Her hold on his hand tightened as she felt it coming, stomach wounding tighter and tighter, sweat on her brow and jaw slack, eyes squeezed shut.

“Sa… sa…satoru,” she rotated her hips into him, her release washing over her as he continued to piston in and out, lapping at her sex greedily. Her own free hand moved to his hair, tugging slightly that had his moaning against her. She was beginning to become too sensitive, a whined moan even when she knew he wouldn’t let up just yet.

Her walls continued to squeeze him, her legs shaking around him as she tried to keep from closing them, trapping him in. He squeezed her hand, messily making out her sex as the overstimulation built and built until her hips rose slightly from the bed, another orgasm washing over her. He guided her through it, lips pulling off her sex as his fingers slowed, watched her chest heave and the pretty flush that spread across her neck and face. When she finally collapsed back onto the sheets he slowly slipped out, body moving back up her own as their hands released one another.

His lips were red and wet, her mess on his face as she gave a lazy smile, body occasionally jerking when his covered erection circled her hips. She leaned up, pulling his lips to her own as her hands trailed south, fingers dancing around the ridge of his underwear before she moved them down. He pulled away from her, shimmied his way out of them and tossed them back onto the floor as she moved to slip out of his shirt. He watched her with hungry eyes as her breasts became exposed. Sitting up, she moved to the edge of the bed where he now stood and rescued up to him, arms wrapping around his neck as she kissed, just as hungry and needy as him.

She bit his lip, pulling slightly as she gazed up at him. The exhaustion once on her features had given way for lust and something else. Something he had caught himself doing when he looked at her for too long as well. Love. Unspoken between the two of them, but always just below the surface. She never pressed him, always took what he gave her, what part of him she could have even when she craved more.

He kissed her once more before he maneuvered her onto her stomach, ass up. She gripped the sheets, feeling him run his tip through her folds before slowly pushing in. He was big - just like the rest of him - and no matter how many times he prepped her or they met like this she could never quite be ready enough. Her head fell into the sheets, both groaning from the pleasure, as his hands squeezed her hips and he leaned forward, kissing the spot between her shoulder blades.

She circled her hips into his own, the rest of him slipping in as bit down into the flesh of her shoulder where it met the back of her neck. He stayed buried in her for a moment, her walls fluttering around him before his hips ground into her own.

“F-fuck,” he hissed, standing back behind her as he pulled out till his tip was just in before thrusting forward. Both moaned as she bounced forward from the strength of his thrust, and he continued, thrusting in and out as his speed gradually increased and she met him with her own.

He leaned back down, missing the feeling of her, craving her touch against his own chest as he positioned himself on top of her, her body pushed into the sheets and head to the side as he continued thrusting. One hand moved up to hold one of her hands gripping the sheets as she grounded her hips into her, deep and hard as she sighed from the stimulation. He kissed her shoulders, back of her neck, before their lips collided together - all teeth and sloppy as he groaned from the way she squeezed him.

She moaned his name, pleas as she chased another release.

“So good, ‘s so good,” she mumbled against his lips.

He kissed her once more before he kissed her jaw, nipped and licked. He pulled back up, hand finding purchase around her neck as he pulled her up with him, back still to his chest as he rolled his hips up into her, hitting that spot that had her toes curling. He squeezed her neck and she moaned as he groaned her name into her shoulder.

He moved his other hand between her legs, rubbing furiously at her clit as he felt his own release coming.

He hands clawed at the arm that grabbed her neck. “Gonna, gonna…” she hiccuped, voice trailing off when he hit that spot again in her again, his focus on it.

“Go ahead pretty girl,” he groaned, lips pressed to her ear as her eyes squeezed shut, jaw growing slack. “Cum on my cock.”

His words had stars form behind her eyes as she cried from her release, breathing heavy as her third orgasm washed over her.

His own hips began to lose their rhythm as he felt his own orgasm approaching.

“I-inside, please,” she managed to mumble out despite struggling to find words, her pleasure taking over every recess of her mind.

He groaned at the thought, a bit taken a back by her words. One of the first rules they established when sleeping together was to never cum inside. He couldn’t afford the risk of a child despite already caring for Megumi.

Her walls fluttered around him again as she grabbed for his hair, and his eyes flashed to her own.

“Y-yeah?” He breathed and she nodded.

“Jesus Christ,” he moaned, muscles rippling as he felt his own release rock through him, his cum painting her walls white as she moaned from the feeling. He circled his hips once more, feeling his release begin to slip out of her, white ring around his coco when he looked down at where they were connected.

With a heavy sigh he felt her pulling forward and took the hint, both collapsing back onto the bed, him still buried between her legs.

They stayed like this for a few minutes longer, catching their breath as he kissed her back, stroked her sides.

He gave one last experimental thrust that caused her to whine his name from overstimulation and he let out a soft laugh before beginning to pull out, hissing his own sensitivity before he fell beside her. He watched her become comfortable, her arms resting under her head as she looked at him sideways. A small smile pressed at her lips, one of his arms tucked under his head as he reached over and traced the scar on her back.

He could’ve gotten rid of it for her but she liked it she had claimed, a reminder of her survival - of their first encounter. She knew he wasn’t particularly a fan of it, mostly because it reminded him of the hurt she had experienced.

“I think I love you,” she murmured finally.

His breath caught in his throat, heart racing as he continued to trace the scar. He wouldn’t say it, couldn’t say it, but he think he loved her too.

Instead he leaned forward, lips grazing her own before pulling away.

She gave him a small smile. She wished he’d say it back, had grown to know the man before her too well to know when he was holding back. But she didn’t press him on it.

“You don’t have to say it back,” she said softly, exhaustion seeping back into her bones. “I just wanted you to know.” She traced his nose, his jaw, his cheekbone and he knew he was blushing. “You’re loved.”

He watched her close her eyes and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into him as he felt his own exhaustion slipping into his bones.

#Spotify #jujutsu kaisen #jjk angst #gojo satoru #satoru x reader #female reader #romance #gojo smut

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possibilistfanfiction · 11 months

Note

argument pt 2?

[here's argument pt 1 (i guess lol); u don't need to read it for this to make sense fully but if u are so inclined & haven't read it yet it might be helpful context.]

you don't know what else you expected. upon a very quick reflection — once your brain reorients itself from beatrice is so hot — you realize you were foolish to think anything else, especially not without a discussion. but, still —

'what are you doing?'

it's clear what beatrice is doing, standing with jillian in one of her fancy labs. she's dressed in all black, a t-shirt delightfully tight on her biceps (focus, ava) tucked into loose pants reinforced at the knees, boots that are tougher than normal but lighter than those you would typically wear in combat — ones she prefers when fighting because it allows her quiet, stealth, full range of motion. 'trying on new armor,' she says, and if it was years ago, the spike of anger that starts in your gut and shoots up your spine — anger, and sheer panic — would have set the halo off.

jillian looks between the two of you — your fists clenched; beatrice's arms crossed over her chest — and says, 'well, i'll be looking over some specs in... another room,' and excuses herself.

wisely.

it hits you, all at once, when you look at beatrice — your fiance, your life partner — that, right now, maybe more than ever, she looks like a soldier. it's not been lost on you over the years, not with her nightmares and the quiet, chronic pain she bears with little more than a tender wince some mornings, the way she loses herself after loud noises or too many people in a crowd, her usually steady hands trembling — it's not been lost on your that beatrice has been fighting for a long time.

'you can't seriously be telling me you're not going to stop.'

'i'm fine, ava. i was cleared by my surgeon and my physical therapist to return to all normal activities.'

you're so used to gentleness, now, even with demons to fight on occasion and the lingering affects of a holy war too great to fully comprehend. you're used to beatrice's loose cotton crewnecks you like to steal; the rust-colored linen pants she loves, light in the breeze off the water. you're used to her whining for posterity about couples halloween costumes, her afternoon naps with her kitten purring on her chest softly. you're used to dates she plans meticulously that you don't even try to mess up because she's so intentional with how she loves you, full of thought and care. you're used to your big house on the beach and her laugh in the afternoon, the freckles on her shoulders, her hand in yours.

'i don't understand.' you release your fists with the progressive muscle relaxation you've worked on in therapy, then take a deep breath. 'you — you want to keep fighting?'

you're the one who changed her dressings after surgery, who took her to months and months of painful and slow-going, steady physical therapy. you're the one who washed her short hair with the gentlest hands you could, even that hurting the bone bruise along the back of her skull. you're the one who filled the prescriptions for her pain meds, who held her hand when she woke up. you're the one who loves her the most. you're the one who thought she was going to die.

'i —' she seems at a loss, for a moment, and then, 'it's my duty.'

'your duty?' it comes out shrill; so much for your muscle relaxation. 'beatrice.'

she clenches her jaw.

'you're telling me that you're, what, just fine getting fitted for new armor because your last vest got punctured by shrapnel and almost killed you?'

'ava.' it's a warning, and a tired one — exhausted from over a decade. 'you're still fighting.'

'i don't have a choice.' you hate yelling but you're overwhelmed by the idea of having to go through what you did again and again. 'don't you want — don't you want to choose?'

she swallows and leans back against the counter. 'if i —' she shakes her head.

'bea.'

'i — i can't.'

'i want to live,' you tell her, an echo of one of the first things you knew years and years ago, and her lower lip trembles. 'for so long i have wanted to live so badly, bea.'

'i know.' her voice is laced with unshed tears.

'i — do you want to?'

she sniffles and tilts her head back to look at the ceiling; it's a sure tell she's trying to compose herself but you can see her shaking, holding it in. 'i never thought i would.'

you step toward her, wait until she offers her hand. you lace your fingers together and wait. 'did you want to?'

'i didn't think — i didn't think i deserved to. i didn't think that me living a good life would be nearly as valuable as, well —'

'dying young in a blaze of glory for god?'

it takes her a moment, because it's the hardest thing in the world to hold, this grief, but then she laughs a watery little sound. 'something like that.'

'okay, but — do you want to now?'

it hangs heavy in the air. you know that she goes to therapy faithfully and you've seen her cry multiple times watching the sunset; she touches you like a benediction. but the answer is impossible to come by, sometimes — worthiness, and belief. 'who am i, ava, if not... this?'

you remember a book you'd read a few months ago, one of mary's favorites, that had made you cry often — where does it all lead? what will become of us? these were our young questions, and young answers were revealed. it leads to each other. we become ourselves. it's easy, to kiss the faithful gold band on her ring finger and then take her in your arms, put a protective hand to the back of her head. 'you're a fucking miracle,' you pray into her skin. 'you're the love of my life. you're a genius, and a black belt, and someone who avidly watches reality tv and tennis, only one of which is worthy of that kind of devotion.' you feel her laugh, snotty, into your shoulder. 'you're so pretty, and so handsome, and really funny when you want to be and sometimes even when you don't. you're remarkably forgiving; an incredible friend, a wonderful sister. you're someone who surfs because the ocean is beautiful and you want to see the sunrise. you're a very hot lesbian, and you're my fiance, and you're going to be my wife. you're my life partner. you give the world so much more than it has ever, ever deserved.' you both back up, just so you can look into her eyes. you hold her face in your hands, as gently as you can, run your thumb along a cheekbone, the constellation of freckles there that have bloomed in the sun by the sea. 'you will always serve the world, i know that about you. you're a child of god,' you say. 'you're beatrice.'

it doesn't surprise you when she kisses you gently and then tucks her face into your neck and lets out a full body sob. you rub her back through it, hold her up when her legs grow weak. eventually, as she always does, she calms and composes herself, steps back and dries her tears, runs a hand along her hair. her eyes are red but she takes a deep, steadying breath.

'thank you.'

you kiss her cheek. 'you're also my favorite.'

'now that i do know.'

you grin. 'don't get me wrong, like, fuck the military industrial complex obviously, but this is kind of a look.'

she rolls her eyes but her shoulders settle and then she looks at you seriously. 'i want to live a long life.'

'yeah?'

'so badly.'

'it's a little scary, right?'

she lets out a shaky, honest breath. 'yeah.'

'well, we'll figure it out.' you kiss her, the first of a kind stretching out ahead of you, infinite. 'i have an idea?'

she sighs, and you can't help but laugh.

(you watch her slice a plum on the shore of the lake in the alps you used to train at all those years ago, the lake you knelt down in front of her and she agreed to be your wife. the fruit is juicy and a color you can't quite bring yourself to comprehend: blood, your favorite sangria at the beach, natal dahlias. the house you stay at now — a few quiet days before you head home — is small and gorgeous, with a giant bed and a wall of windows that overlook the mountains. i love you here, you tell her — i love you like this; i love you however you are meant to be — i love you in peacetime, and you watch her slice a plum, the juice red and sticky on her fingers. she puts it to your mouth gently and the taste explodes like a kiss. she smiles and you feed her too; she sucks your finger into her mouth and you close your eyes — there will be time enough to touch her later. the water is calm, and the flowers are in bloom, and the sun shines bright.)

#wn #wn fic #avatrice #avatrice fic #butch bea 🥺🫡#jillian getting tf out of there lmfao #mostly brought to you by the overwhelming RED of the plums that have been in season in socal lately #& the accidental sincere ending to the lilith pov prompt fill lmao 'i want to live a long life'#whew! wild!

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pyrrhicpoison · 12 days

Text

tw // self harm mention + scars

WOOHOOO THEYRE FINALLY DONE!! team rwby are here and real after nearly 23 hours spent on them in total 😵‍💫

^ versions without the text&arrows

vvv hc transcript + hcs not mentioned vvv:

Ruby

She/they/crescent

5’4

Genderfluid

Butch Lesbian

AuDHD + PTSD

goggles: ‘Goggles to protect remaining eye (+they make crescent look cool as hell)

right eye: ‘Eye scratched out by Cinder’s grimm arm’

green hairband: ‘For Penny :(‘

nose: ‘Shares nose shape, skin tone & freckles with their Dad & Yang’

upper chest: ‘scars on chest from CC’s attempted possession’

chest 1: ‘Yang bought their binder & had it customised for her (+ Blake)’

chest 2: ‘Binds their chest most of the time except from when she’s in Vacuo. Then they borrow trans tape from Blake and bind with that instead’

sash: ‘CR hooks onto the back of sash and sits diagonally across crescent’s back’

shirt and shorts: ‘Stole one of Yang’s goofy shirts & cut his cargos into shorts’

Weiss

She/her

4’11 (5’2 w/ heels)

Transfem lesbian

Asexual

OCD + PTSD

hair: ‘Hair cut shorter & she wears it down more often’

green hair tie: ‘For Penny :,)’

nose: ‘Shares nose shape with her brother + got her beauty mark from her mother who has one in the same place (TO ME!!)’

face: ‘On E’

red bandana: ‘gift from Ruby :)’

right arm: ‘Heavily scarred arms from SH & fighting grimm’

left eye: ‘Blind in this eye’

left shoulder: ‘Wears shawl to protect shoulders from the sun (burns easily)’

right side: ‘Chest scar carries over to her back & she has no feeling in the skin there — the nerves were burned away and caused permanent damage’ then off that ‘Doesn’t cope well in hot climates (Vacuo) too well because of this’

myrtenaster: ‘Has a strict routine she keeps with maintaining Myrtenaster and if she doesn’t do it, it’ll send her into a spiral’

Blake

She/they

5’7

Non-binary bisexual

Autistic + PTSD

ears: ‘Gold jewellery like her mum’s’

right eye: ‘Eyes shine in the dark due to faunus night vision’

left eye: ‘More prominent faunus facial features (slit pupils, fangs, nose, etc.)

hood: ‘Hood has cat ear shaped pockets that unzip so she can choose whether to have her ears out or covered’

chest: ‘wearing trans tape under crop top’

left bicep: ‘Has big, strong arm & shoulder muscles from throwing Yang around with Gambol, but a softer tummy cause she’s healing from all the bad habits they picked up in the WF’

orange scarf: ‘Wears orange scarf to mirror where Yang’s arm ends and where metal begins’

tummy: ‘happy trail and STRETCH MARKS!!!”

shoulder+elbow: ‘More furry like their Dad’

forearm: ‘Scars from WF training, SH & grimm’

waist straps: ‘Yang uses these to pull her in for a kiss all the time :)’

chaps: ‘chaps + cowboy boots = sapphic devastation’

tummy scar: ‘The scar on her hip is the only one that still looks fairly gruesome, and the only one that burns and stings even long after the initial injury is healed. She thinks it’s because technically she was stabbed there twice, even if the second time she managed to use her semblance to get away.’

Yang

She/he

6’0

Butch lesbian

AuDHD + PTSD

nose: ‘Got his nose scar while fighting a jabber walker’

eye: ‘Eyes have specs of crimson in them even when his semblance isn’t active’

ear: ‘Shares skin tone, nose and hair with his dad’

facial hair: ‘On T’

left bicep: wears scarf on left bicep to mirror Blake’

arm,legs,tummy,chest: ‘HAIRY!!! :D’

leg: ‘Heavily scarred from SH, grimm and bar fights’

shorts: ‘Can sew and likes to decorate his trousers/shorts with patches & pins. He also likes to sew things for his team (he’s the reason they all have the team colours somewhere on their outfits)’

chest 1: ‘Scar across chest from Neo’s blade’

chest 2: ‘Got top surgery at some point in Vacuo (he likes to joke around and say that her semblance blew his tits off).

HCS NOT PUT HERE (i forgor):

Ruby:

•takes tips and advice from Yang on how to dress but mainly just throws clothes on and hopes for the best. she hasn’t quite got the hang of things looking… cohesive… yet.

•strong arms from swinging CR around.

Weiss:

•Was quite slender, but began gaining a bit of weight once she got back to Remnant. Starting to heal :,).

Blake:

•has chronic pain that stems from her tummy scar and radiates up her spine. Overworking, stress & the cold cause most flare-ups.

Yang:

•has a collection of goofy shirts (That ruby always steals from).

•has weapons hidden in her prosthetic arm in case he’s ever out of dust or in a bind.

•still experiences phantom pain in his stump and pain from some of the scars he’s acquired over the course of the war.

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revacholianpizzaagenda · 1 year

Text

Reddit post that wonders if Kim is into Harry full of answers going "nope I see nothing they're good friends" "he's too well put together to fall for Harry" etc, Reddit gonna Reddit, whatevs.

But I wonder how much is down to specific player choices? A certain baseline of Kim being into bears is probably a constant - the orange n green comment, the biceps. But a lot of the overwhelming intimacy may or may not happen on a granular level. Even sticking to Harries trying to stay sober, not be huge racists, etc, some playthroughs will sync the sines, others simply won't (others still may spec oddly and not realize how much Kim was into whatever the hell they were doing)

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codywanreversebang · 9 months

Text

Codywan Reverse Bang 2023: Masterlist Part 2

Team 7

Team 7 [Art] by @thatonetimetraveller

Deflect [5.3k] by @fanfic-obsessed

Later review of his footage would reveal that he protected his general with his general’s lightsaber for almost two hours before the battle was won. He never discussed how the lightsaber appeared to be helping him at many points, because that would just be weird. Right?

Team 8

CWRB Team #8 - Bread [Art] by @dontbelasagnax

sourdough: flour, water, and starting over [18.9k] by @shortcuts-make-long-delays

Did Cody need to be up at 3:50am? No, not technically. But he had graciously offered to take Fox’s Sunday morning shifts at their Uncle’s bakery. Donning Fox's red apron as part of a decade long joke, he works at the bakery as he attempts to figure out what he wants from life. The first time Obi-wan shows up to dinner at Anakin's after moving back to Coruscant, he arrives twenty minutes late with the bag of rolls in hand, and unable to stop thinking about the baker in the red apron. Fox, he's pretty sure the name tag said. Cody and Obi-wan are both just trying to figure out what it means to start over and make your own happiness.

endings mean beginnings [8.3k] by @inkformyblood

A misplaced delivery leads Cody to find more than he ever would have expected after returning to help run the family bakery.

Joys Found and Made [8.2k] by @thehatphotograph

Cody loves his work at the bakery, and he’s grateful to have it, but when he looks at the chair at the other side of his kitchen table he can’t help but feel it’s all a little bit… empty. When he meets Obi-Wan, Cody realizes there might be something to fill his days with other than bagels and babka.

Team 9

Team 9 [Art] by @raccoonclty

what changes and what stays the same [7.5k] by @mymblesbuir

All things considered, then, it's an understatement of epic proportions to say that Ben isn't expecting to be woken up in the middle of the night by Cody of all people holding a gun to his head and a finger to his own lips. Ben has been keeping himself to himself since the violent loss of his brother and sister-in-law on outbreak day, but when his old friend Cody shows up to recruit him for the Fireflies, his life changes once again... (Codywan Reverse Bang - The Last of Us AU)

Seal it With a Kiss [6.5k] by @drowning-inthe-feels

"You can’t fight, Obi-Wan,” Cody cut off the argument already forming. He dragged Obi-Wan closer and rested their foreheads together. “Get a head start. I’ll find you afterwards. I promise.” “Seal it with a kiss?” Obi-Wan pleaded, fingers digging into Cody’s biceps.

Team 10

Team 10 [Art] by @journen

Hold Fast [10k] by @bitwhizzle

Three years ago, Cody ran away from his feelings instead of confronting them. When a Spec Ops mission teams him with Ben Kenobi again, it's finally time to have a chat. During a heated firefight. As one does.

Got Your Back [7.7k] by @crownprincecody

"It could be worse, Lieutenant," Obi-Wan reminded him lightly. "At least our distraction worked." Cody's glower was entirely deserved and predictable. "Sir," he began, tone implying the words 'with all due respect' when there was none in the offing. "Our plan was batshit crazy and left us running on foot from our exploded, liberated ATV." Cody didn't need to look pointedly at the faint plume of smoke still visible at their six for Obi-Wan to understand. That was entirely true. But it had worked. And, given the way the mission had been a SNAFU from the start, Obi-Wan was keen on taking the win. "It worked, Cody," Obi-Wan said again, tone more gentle. There were no words to emphasise how much Cody hated it when their plans went off the rails. It's only supposed to be a milk run. In and out and no real trouble. It's why only two members of the legendary 212th Battalion are sent in. Pity life is never that simple.

Team 11

A Day at the Markets [Art] by @jaegrdrifts

Are You Going to Sundari's Market? [5k] by @nerjetii

At the tender age of fifteen, Kote knew Obi-Wan would be the love of his life. Alright, to be perfectly honest, he’d known that the moment the paper butterfly had come to rest on the tip of his nose. Age had only taken the tender feeling that had curled around his heart and warmed it, and turned it into a fire that smoldered through the year to become a raging fire when Market Day came around. Five Times Obi-Wan and Kote meet at the Market Day in Sundari.

Team 12

You Have Only Just Begun [Art] by @jaegrdrifts

as lanterns rising to the stars [28.6k] by vhetin

Obi-Wan knew the mission was going to be more than a few days, but more than a few days in Sundari was perfectly fine. It's everything else that happens that makes him take up praying to the Force and anyone who might listen. Luckily for him, someone is listening.

and then there was hope [42k] [WIP] by @reginastellaris

Years after the Jedi Order was forced into hiding, Emperor Sheev Palpatine rules over the lands with an iron fist. Close to extinction, the Order sends Obi-Wan Kenobi on a mission to destroy the Emperor and end his terrible reign once and for all. He takes with him the Order’s last pure kyber crystal, a tool able to grow stronger the more hope it is around to vanquish Darth Sidious. Obi-Wan knows it’s a suicide mission, but he’s made his peace with that. Until a group of Sith chase Obi-Wan into a Mandalorian temple where he meets the angel Cody, son of the God of War, Jango, who’s been watching Obi-Wan since he’s been thirteen. Together, they go on a journey to stop Sidious’ tyranny and find Cody’s brother, Rex, who disappeared five years ago. Will they be able to fulfill Obi-Wan’s mission? Or will they die trying?

#masterlist #cwrb23

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