#NOT PROOFREAD SORRY i will read it over later and fix it later

[hyoqa]

pairing: akatsuki hyoga x gn!reader (no prns)

summary: kind of inspired by from the start by laufey, you loved him from the start

warnings: the reader is described as beautiful and pretty, hyoga is kind of sweet

If someone were to ask you what made you fall in love with Hyoga, you’d be in a bind, because you truly had no reason. You had no idea what started this little crush, but you were certain you loved him, there was no mistake about it. From the way you would notice your eyes following him, all the way to the way your heart would flutter when he talked to you. There was no other explanation of these emotions you harboured.

Hyoga was skeptical at times. He enjoyed talking to you far more than you would ever imagine, but sometimes he would have a sense that you might have some feelings for him. However, every time he had thought of this, it would immediately fade as he came to his senses, because there was absolutely no way you would fall for him. There was nothing he had ever done that could possibly come across as good, let alone something that would make someone fall for him. And definitely not you.

There were so many people who would kill to get one date with you, but none of them had had the confidence to ask. You were the most beautiful person most people had laid their eyes on, and he wasn’t an exception. This wasn’t only about your looks either, it was actually mainly about who you were. You would always be down to help and you always had a smile on, no matter the day. 

Your existence was more of an annoyance to Hyoga when you were just revived. He first assumed that Senkuu had just decided to revive a pretty person to raise the moral of the team, after realizing you had no particular strengths. However, it wasn’t long until he realized it wasn’t your looks that were making everyone’s day, it was rather your energy that was. For the first time in his life, he realized the effect one’s kindness can have on others. Soon after, the two of you had your first conversation, and for the first time in a very long time, you brought a smile to his face.

Now, you had no idea how to make Hyoga fall for you. You had pondered on this for months now, thinking about this every time you talked to him. Quite frankly, you were tired. You wanted him to like you so badly and today you were going to go for it. You had to start somewhere and whatever you were doing obviously wasn’t working.

The next time you talked to Hyoga was rather soon. He was just finishing his training for the day and you had just helped bring back the minerals that Chrome had found today. You were always nervous when you talked to him, but today must have been so much worse than usual, because you blurted out the words you had carefully held in for months.

“Hyoga, I like you,” you said and he was visibly shaken, but to his surprise you looked just as horrified. 

“...What?” he asked, genuinely surprised.

“That came out wrong,” you said and he undeniably felt his heart drop a little. Of course it did.

“If you’re going to pull that prank, at least do it to someone believable,” Hyoga said.

“What?” you said and immediately you realized what he meant. “No, I do like you. I’m serious, I just didn’t mean to blurt it out like that.”

“There’s no way,” Hyoga said, but he was hoping you would deny him and explain. “What have I ever done to make you like me?”

“Well, I’m sure that I do. I can’t quite point out when I first fell in love, but I can list things I like about you,” you said, absolutely confident. “I like the way you don’t say things you don’t mean. I like the way you care for those who matter. Oh, I love the way you’re always working hard. I know you’ve never skipped a day of training, even when you were burning up with that fever and you really should’ve...” You were ready to go on but the way Hyoga’s eyes widened surprised you. Immediately, you remembered when you first fell in love with Hyoga.

It was like you had thawed his frozen heart. He was so lost on how to react, no one had ever said that to him before. It was then that he remembered the time he probably fell for you. It was the first time the two of you had talked and your first comment was that you liked his kudayari spear. He had questioned if you were familiar with it and you told him you were not, a little embarrassed. You had admitted that you hardly knew anything about combats and weapons, but you assumed that the wear and tear in his spear showed how hard he worked. That couldn’t help but make him smile.

You were always like that. 

“Hyoga, I remember what made me fall in love,” you said, almost proud. “The first time we talked, you smiled. I thought a cupid shot me in the heart.”

Your confident demeanor was slowly fading away as you waited for his response. He could tell you were nervous and that made his heart flutter. You were serious. 

It wasn’t on purpose, it wasn’t because you had just said that. He just couldn’t help but smile. 

“Then, I fell in love first.”

BONUS

"No way," you said, unable to process that he returned your feelings, let alone fell first.

"You better not go around doing that to other people," he said, not elaborating on the previous statement.

"Oh, don't be silly," you said and he opened his mouth to tell you he was serious, but you went on. "I've only ever been looking at you, how would I know anything about anyone else?"

#hyoga x reader #akatsuki hyoga x reader #hyoga akatsuki x reader #hyoga #akatsuki hyoga #hyoga akatsuki #dr stone x reader #dcst x reader #CAUSE WHENNN I TALKKKK TO YOU A CUPIDDDD WALKS RIGHT THROUGH AND SHOOTS AN ARROW THROUGH MY HEARTTTTT #i think i strayed away from my original idea but i guess that is alright #THANK YOU FOR READING THOUGH I LOVE WRITING FOR HYOGA #NOT PROOFREAD SORRY i will read it over later and fix it later #also sorry if u r not a fan of sweet hyoga unfortunately i am a VERY BIG FAN OF SWEET HYOGA #i am so bad at writing descriptions wow #i had to write the summary line and my god NOTHING CAME OUT #i wrote you love him and he loves you like okay lets HOPE ! #when will i stop talking like shut up my god the tags are going to be LONGER THAN THE FIC #ok i was blabbering about how i wanted to write a bonus blurb so i just shoved it at the end

[cottoncandytomu]

Scream For Me Doll~ Ghostface!Ellie x F!Reader

🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸

🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸🔪🩸

ITS FINALLY FUCKING HEREEEEEE!!!

(I do not own any of the photos! Just edited them, if they are yours and you want them removed lmk!!)

GHOSTFACE!ELLIE AI AUDIOS HERE!!

Before I even start-

18+ CONTENT MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. THIS FIC IS DEFINITELY NOT FOR MINORS!!

PLEASE READ ALL OF THE WARNINGS BEFORE YOU INDULGE IN THIS FIC!!

I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to finally finish this fic, I wanted to make it the best I could for you deranged Beauties~. I will say though, I only proofread half of it (I'll proofread the other half later - sorry I just wanted to post it already heeheheh~) so any mistakes I apologize they will be fixed in the future!

Those who asked to be tagged, if you're not interested in this fic in particular or want to be removed please lmk!! :}

WARNINGS!! PLEASE READ!!

This fic IS NOT for everyone, so please if it isn't your cup of tea...move on. Any type of hate sent my way I ask for it to not be anonymous so I can do you the justice and block you straight up. This fic contains the following: (If I forget to put a TW please let me know so I can add it on!!)

LOTS of dark themes, Filthy smut, Knife play, Blood play, Self harm (Ellie's behalf - slightly intentional - she cuts herself on the blade), Degradation (Very minor), Possessiveness, Stalking, Cursing, Deranged reader and Ellie, Mentions of murder/killing.

I think that's it - again if I missed anything please let me know. BUT that's about it folks, hope you Beauties~ enjoy!! (7839 Words)

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The sound of breathing was the only thing to be heard, Ellie’s warm breath bouncing off the flesh of the mask and back into her own. She learned very quickly how to stay quiet in situations like these. Her robe almost touched the floor, flowing right along with her movements. The sun had set hours before, a warm yellow moon took its place. Darkness cascades over the town, it was during these hours where she thrived the most. The shadows made for her stalk within the night, hiding all of her secrets in its shroud. She slowly creeps towards your window, forever thankful that your room was located on the first floor. 

A lot of her nights were spent like this. Reveling in her recent victims over the weeks to then come and celebrate by watching you at your most vulnerable. You weren’t on her hit list, far from it actually. Her obsession for you was different, not one of bloodlust. Although she’d love to see the deep velvet color of your blood drip down your stomach. The tip of her blade digging into your skin, not too hard, not too soft, but enough to pierce the skin. She’d imagine rubbing her gloved thumb across the liquid, smearing it towards your hip bone. Where she’d then grip your waist, squeezing the soft flesh in her palm. 

Her true bloodlust was for the imbeciles who fell into her traps, never clever enough to understand the gravity of the situation they’ve put themselves in. What genius would walk through an alleyway alone after a night of drinking? Or answer a phone call in the deep hours of the night? Only idiots would and Ellie hated the idiots of the world. The ones who deserved to be silenced by her blade, one less ignorant human on this planet. She saw the evils she committed as an act of justice. Just what society needed, one less idiot to exist. But fuck there were so many. That’s why she enjoyed you the most. You weren’t like them. 

The way you were always aware of your surroundings, keeping up on the latest murders of the month. Those murders being her own work of course. She saw the way your eyes lit up at the idea of figuring out who the infamous Ghostface was. You were determined, it was cute in your own way. Ellie was always one step ahead though, she knew about your obsession with the slasher. Being your close friend was her advantage to the game. It was her fun version of tag, except for the fact that you were unaware you were playing it with her. Coming so close to touching her, the tips of your fingers stretched out wide but she was able to run and hide. You having to start all over again just when you were so close. She loved when you got close. 

She’d listen to all the theories you’d come up with about who Ghostface could be. You’ve gotten close a few times, even if it was jokingly pointing the finger at her. You’d laugh off the idea of Ellie being Ghostface. It’s too hard to believe your childhood friend who you’ve spent every waking moment with to be the one. You told her she didn’t have the guts to commit such acts, too blinded by the nurturing friendship the two of you shared. As clever as you were, in which Ellie respected, you always missed that one piece. 

There was a moment that she did want to tell you, to scream it off the rooftops or to stand outside your house with it written in bold letters. Hey, it’s me! I’m Ghostface! Surprised huh? But she knew that’d be too risky, as much as she trusts you with her life she doesn’t fully know if you’d be able to keep this under the wraps. Would you run away screaming, telling the first officer you see? Or is there that slight chance that you’d be alright with it… 

This was another fantasy Ellie loved to live in. You overjoyed with the fact that she was the one. Running up to her and caressing her mask, blood staining the tips of your fingers just moments after her fresh kill. But she knew better. Out of all the secrets you two shared, this was the only one she kept to herself. 

Little did she know you had secrets of your own. Your obsession with the slasher didn’t just end at finding out who it was. You wanted them for yourself. You wanted to trace their mask with your fingers, dragging them down the oversized robe and over to their gloved hand. You dreamt of grabbing that hand that yielded the knife. Tracing it up your chest to your delicate throat. To feel the cool blade against your skin would welcome heat that would pool between your thighs. You wanted them to use you how they wanted, bending at their will, doing whatever for them. It was a fucked up fantasy you couldn’t stop. But did you truly want it to stop? 

You had to bite your tongue every time you talked to Ellie about them. She was intrigued with your theories, always ready to listen in on the newest piece of evidence you brought up. But you didn’t want to face the judgment of her words when you told her the main reason you wanted to see what was behind the mask. You imagined her reaction once. You didn’t imagine it again after that. 

As she peers in she feels her chest swell up. It never felt any different for her, you always made her feel a certain way. Especially during these times. When she had the mask on, it changed her. She became a different person, she felt free. She felt like her true self. It was funny in a way, usually people put on a mask to hide their identity. But it wasn’t the same for Ellie, it brought out the worst in her. She loved every second of it. 

You were fast asleep in your bed, legs in a tangled mess with your blankets. Your brows were furrowed, tightly knit together. She was curious as to what you were dreaming about. Was it a nightmare? Troubles from something that happened earlier in the day? It took everything in her to not climb in through your window, coming close to you to smoothen out the lines between your brows. Her eyes trailed down to your lips, taking in how soft they looked. How badly she wanted to glide her gloved fingers across them. Just to hook them into the side of your mouth and pull back the flesh, making you smile like the joker. 

Her nightly ritual would soon come to an end. Much to her disappointment she had to go back to being the regular old Ellie. The Ellie no one suspected was Ghostface. She took in your features one last time before descending back into the night, the darkness consuming her once again. 

Finding the abandoned shed by her house she shed herself of her shroud and mask, putting them away in her pack. She returned home shortly after, unlocking her door with her key. She couldn't wait to also get some rest. Unbothered to do anything else besides sleep she threw her pack across the room. Flopping into the bed it didn’t take long for her to be whisked away into lust filled dreams of your face. 

The next morning came in a hurry. Ellie woke up in a sweat, the stuffy heat of the summer causing her clothes to stick to her skin. It didn’t help that she fell asleep with her jeans and t-shirt on, too tired the night before to change into something more comfortable. Her hand reaches over on her nightstand, grabbing her phone she checks the time, 11 a.m. It wouldn’t be long until you’re knocking at the door, you both had previously made plans to go out today. Finally having a matching day off you didn’t want to waste it away, even with the stupid curfew in place. Jackson didn’t have much to do but you both made it work. Your favorite spot was going deep into the forest, dangerous yes, but you enjoyed the quiet serene scene. The only sounds being what nature wanted to sing to you that day. 

Today would probably be one of those forest days. The overwhelming buzz of fear that clouded the skies of Jackson was starting to be too much for you to handle. You wanted, no needed, a mini escape from it all. And who better to escape all of it with none other than your loyal friend. She understood how you felt, how sick of the people you were. She understood it all too well. 

Ellie placed the phone back down on the nightstand, rubbing her eyes as she sat herself up. Letting out a sigh she climbs out of bed and goes to get ready for the day. It doesn’t take long until you’re knocking at her door. Toothbrush in her hand she rushes over to let you in. Your soft smile sends flutters to her stomach, precious as always. She sends a smile back your way, standing off to the side to let you in. You were wearing a regular t-shirt and shorts that hugged your thighs just right, she couldn’t help her eyes from checking you out. After you walk in she closes the door and returns to the bathroom to finish getting ready. 

You walk over to the door to the bathroom, leaning against the frame watching her finish up. You gave her a knowing look and she knew what would come out of your mouth before you even said it.

“New evidence?” She asks. 

Your grin widens, “Maybe…”

“Spill, now.” 

This happened often, you’d have some new “gossip” about the killer from your unresting research. While Ellie would sit and listen, wanting to know how close you’ve gotten this time. 

“So you remember a week ago when that random man was murdered?” 

Ellie pretends to think about it for a second. She knew exactly who you were referring to, he was a tough one. His extreme persistence to survive almost caused him to escape her grasp, almost. She nods at you. 

“Well apparently he put up a fight.” 

Ellie’s face cringed, thinking back on the memory. Her expression quickly changed to a confused one, now wondering how you knew about his persistence. 

“I know I know, the only reason I found this out is because of someone sharing some info on Reddit.” She waits for you to continue on. “So their Dad is a cop blah blah, shit no one cares for. But because of this he gets inside info. So get this, they found a piece of the handle to the blade Ghostface used to kill him. There’s some overly complicated science as to how they know he struggled. But the piece of it gives them a slight advantage on what weapon the killer uses. It’s honestly crazy how the knife broke. It’s said that the Buck 120 is very durable, some luck huh?” 

Fuck-

Ellie knew her mistake but didn’t think it would be found so soon. By the time she realized the piece had fallen off it had already been too late. That night she was consumed with the need to see you. Specially after that persistent fuck gave her such a hard time. The stress of it all ate her alive, for once she feared she would be discovered if he was able to escape her grasp. Luckily with one hard strike she was able to finally take him down. Enraged after the fact she kept up the hard strikes at his weak skin. Definitely a blood bath, all the emotions clouded her mind. She didn’t realize that her harsh slashes may be the one thing to bring her demise. When she saw you that night all the stress seemed to disappear. She returned home that night, dread still heavy on her head. Seeing you truly did help her but soon as she left you it all came back. The next morning was when she saw the lost piece in her handle. Cursing herself at her stupidity, it was too late. She never goes back to a kill, no matter how satisfying or difficult. It was too risky, the bodies were found usually a day or so after she ended them. 

Ellie snapped out of her thoughts at the sound of your voice. “Earth to Ellie, you there?” 

She rinses her toothbrush and spits out the paste in her mouth to answer you. 

“Yeah.” She laughs it off, “Sorry. Just thinkin’ about what you said.”

You tuck in your lips nodding slowly at her words. “It’s crazy to think about isn’t it? I’ll find out who it is eventually I know it.” 

“Oh you do now?” Ellie forgets about her previous thoughts. More interested in your words instead. 

“Mhm~ You know how close I’ve gotten.” 

“I also know how many times it’s slipped from you too.” 

“Whatever, I don’t wanna hear this shit talk when I find out who it is. I’ll prove everyone wrong.” 

Sure you will. Ellie thinks, “I’m gonna talk shit regardless. You know this.” 

You laugh at her words, “You’re right. Anyways hurry up, I wanna be out as long as I can before curfew.” 

Ellie finishes up what she has to, not wanting to keep you waiting. As she gets her things together you go to sit on the couch, patiently waiting. After she’s done you both head for the front door. Before you can leave Ellie mutters a hold on forgetting one last thing. She goes back into her room before descending out with her guitar case in hand. You smile warmly at her. You always loved when she would bring her guitar. Playing the tunes you were never tired of hearing. You opened the door for her letting her exit with her case. Following her out you both took off to the calming forest. Letting go of all the troubles that plagued your minds. 

After a few hours you and Ellie made it back to her house. The time spent in nature was a refresher you both needed. Similar reasons neither of you were aware of. The two of you didn’t eat the whole day so you both agreed to get food once settled in Ellie’s home. Not wanting the night with you to end Ellie made sure to invite you over after. She knew she’d be around you. Regardless if you stayed or not. She could either have you here or have you through your window. As much as she did enjoy the latter, she wanted to be around you as long as you’d allow. Even if it was when she was regular Ellie. 

The both of you settled down onto the couch. Ellie loaded a game up to pass the time, knowing you’d enjoy watching her play. Ellie made you comfortable no matter the situation, being in her presence made you feel such a relief. A relief no one could provide in the same way that she can. You were scrolling through restaurants in the area on your phone. Stretched out sideways along the couch. Your back against the armrest and your legs over Ellie’s as she sat regularly. Her arms were resting on your lower thighs, fingers pressing away at the buttons. She told you to pick what you wanted, not caring what you’d order. She’d eat whatever you put in front of her anyway. You didn’t want anything too crazy, just something comforting and simple. Which is why you decided on pizza, can’t get more simple than that. 

“I’m gonna get us some pizza.” You look up at Ellie from your phone.

Her eyes were trained on the screen, “Sounds good to me.” She shrugged slightly, replying. 

“Okay I’ll get us a large and a drink as well.” 

Ellie throws a quick glance in your direction, “My card should be in my pack in the room.” 

“I can just buy it Ellie…” 

“Fuck no.” When she looks back at you, this time she doesn’t break eye contact, “I invited you over to eat so I pay for it, yeah?” 

You didn’t bother to argue back with her, you’d lose in the end. You always did. You mumbled alright and she lifted up her arms so you could slip off the couch. The warmth of your legs were gone, causing her to shiver from the cool feeling of her air conditioner. 

You walked over into her room searching around for her pack. Your eyes scan the room when they finally land on it thrown over into the corner. You walk over kneeling down to open it up, digging through it you suddenly feel a sharp sting on your finger. Pulling your hand back from the pack with an ow you look hold your hand to see blood dripping from your middle finger. 

“What the fuck?” You mumble. 

Instead of making the mistake to dig around unaware again you slowly pull open the sides of the pack, opening it up to peek at what's inside. Your brows furrow at the black cloth harshly shoved in it. Slowly pulling it out to examine it an object flops to the floor. Snapping your head down your eyes widen, You can feel the blood draining from your face. A sharp flutter fills your stomach, it was a mask. But not any mask, a Ghostface mask. Picking it up with your free hand to examine it you now notice the red splatters, it stands out from the contrast of the bold white mask. Is that…blood? You think to yourself, it can’t be. This is a joke, there's no way she’s Ghostface. You smirk to yourself, was she really trying to fuck with you like this? She’s done stupid jokes before but never went as far as buying the costume to trick you. Some tricks, huh. Nice try Ellie. 

Did she really think you were that naive? You were going to get up and confront her when the sting of your finger got your attention again. You almost forgot about the cut, you then realized that nothing in your hands could’ve sliced you like that. Don’t tell me she bought a knife too, oh Ellie-. You reached into the pack again, carefully this time knowing your chances of getting cut again were high. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your throat when you saw the light shine off the blade, she really outdid herself this time. You grasp the handle and bring it out from the bag, it was the exact kind of knife Ghostface used. The knife had the smeared red on the blade as well. 

One part of you couldn’t believe the lengths she’s gone this time to fuck with your “investigation.” But the other part of you couldn’t help but shiver at the thought of her going this far. She didn’t truly know what these things did to you. If it was her, which was a long shot, you wondered how much easier everything would be. Not having to worry about who was behind the mask, not that you really cared, but it was something that crossed your mind. What if it was someone you couldn’t stand, would you be able to still keep up that fantasy of them? Could you still keep it up if it was Ellie? Your feelings for Ellie were that of a roller coaster. In friendship terms everything was smooth sailing, there’s no one else on the planet you could trust your life with more. But when it came to the topic of it being more than a friendship, that was a different story. You can’t say you never had feelings for her, you have. You just pushed them down when you realized how badly it could ruin everything. Plus you had no idea, doubted even, that she liked you the same. So you buried your own feelings deep inside, not daring to let them out again. Sometimes though she’d do things that made you shiver. That would cause those feelings to bubble over again, reaching for nothing but the disappointment you’d give them when you continued to shove them under again. 

Although, to know that she did this all for you made those feelings bubble over again. Could she have a clue about your true intentions of wanting who was behind that mask? Is that why she went this far? To make you believe it? To fall for her instead of the true Ghostface? No, she wouldn’t, it’s just a dumb prank. 

You laughed at your thoughts, going the extra mile once again, your delusions would constantly take control when the masked killer was involved. You twirl the knife in your hands one last time before you decide to put it down. As you check it for the last time your fingers smooth over something rough on the handle. Curious, you look at what the disturbed surface could be. 

As you study the handle your heart drops. No, no, no- this can’t be happening, you think. You can feel the anxiety swell up in your chest. You forget how to breathe, your thoughts racing a million miles a minute. All of the countless hours you spent searching, all of the sleepless nights you’ve had. The endless amount of research you would study, day after day. Stuck scrolling on your computer not resting until you get so close to finding out who it could be. The theories of all the different people you had, you even bought a cork board to help your search. You pulled some crazy shit you kept to yourself to find out where or who they could be. Putting yourself in danger in hopes that you’ll be the slasher's “next prey.” 

All of this for what? For it to be your best friend this whole time. The one person you were so sure of it not being. Fuck you felt so stupid. You grew up with her, you knew her better than you knew yourself. You felt pride in knowing that she would never be capable of such a thing, but she was. And here you are, staring at the handle with the piece of it missing that was just discovered by the authorities. As much as you wanted to deny it you couldn’t. Why did you want to deny it? 

In a way this makes everything easier, your mind travels back to your earlier thoughts. The thoughts of what if Ellie was the killer. But why didn’t she kill you yet? If no one was safe from her slashes then why were you? Question after question filled your head, trying to piece all the evidence together to figure out just what you have missed. While in deep thought you heard a loud thud. Locking in place you slowly turned your head to the sound. 

Ellie stood by the door, frozen. The controller that was once in her hand now faced upside down on the floor. She was wondering why it was taking you so long to grab your wallet. She knew it was in her room, in some pack that she threw on the floor yesterday. She hasn't touched it since. It wasn’t until she started thinking about it that she felt the color drain from her face. She was so exhausted yesterday that she forgot to put her Ghostface pack in the hiding spot she usually does. It slipped from her mind until this moment. Now she’s paying the consequences, walking in on you holding her knife. The very knife you just talked about hours earlier. The single piece of evidence that would be 100% proof of Ellie being Ghostface. 

She didn’t know what to do or what to say. Scared that any wrong move would result in your panic, your screams filling the air as you ran for the door. But you didn’t. You didn’t move an inch, holding the knife in your hand you stared back at her. All of this time it was her, you didn’t want to admit it but you felt a sense of relief. You did it, you found out who Ghostface was. 

You opened your mouth, trying to get something out, anything out but you couldn’t. Caught like a deer in headlights you thought about your next move. As you thought about it, so did Ellie. You weren’t supposed to find out, even if you did she didn’t want it to be this way. She wanted it on her terms, if she were to ever tell you anyway. 

As flustered as she was she managed to speak first, “Seems like all that research paid off huh?” She chuckles. 

Leave it to Ellie to make light of a situation like this, you were used to it though. She always jokes around when shit hit the fan, it was one of the many things you loved about her. You just weren’t so sure if this time was the right time for it. You looked down at the knife again, your fingers gliding against the abrasion.

“It was you the whole time…” Ellie’s eyes widened at your voice, “I busted my ass on research and it was right in front of me the whole time.” 

“Surprise…?”  

You let out a dry laugh at her response, how could you be so fucking stupid. She goes to open her mouth to speak again but you beat her to it. 

“Do you know why I really wanted to find out who Ghostface was?” 

Fuck it. It was out in the open so you might as well be honest. You didn’t know where this confidence came from but after finding out who a serial killer was you realized you only really have two options. She would let you go, which you think is unlikely or she would have to end it right here right now. Killing you to keep the risk of her being found out by the public. You didn’t think she was capable of killing you, you were her childhood best friend after all. 

She stays quiet, letting you continue. You figured you had nothing to lose now, why not let it all out in the open. 

“Finding out who was behind the mask really isn’t all that important to me. Honestly I could give less of a fuck who’s behind it. I just want them for myself. My fucked up fantasy of being with the slasher is all that I’ve been craving.” You sigh, your words becoming just a whisper. “It’s sick… I know.” 

Did Ellie just hear you correctly? Are her fantasies becoming reality right before her eyes? All those nights at your window, watching you, craving you. You writhing under her as she pleased you in the one thing that made her feel like her true self. She watched as your face fell in despair, you were ashamed. There’s no need to be ashamed. 

She wasn’t aware that she said her thoughts aloud, not realizing it until you lifted up your head. 

You looked at her with a shocked expression, “You don’t think so?” 

“How could I?” She starts, “You know what I do. I have no room to judge anyone, plus I’ve wanted nothing more than this.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, did you hear her correctly? 

She continues on, “I’ve been dreaming about this moment forever. I wanted to tell you so many times but I didn’t know how. Your reaction was something I was scared of the most. But now that I know you want this, I’m ready to take the next step.” 

“What is the next step exactly?” You ask. 

Ellie’s soft expression changes in an instant, a smirk adorning her lips. 

“I make you mine.” 

You felt a slight pang of fear but not too much. Her words catered to your sick mind, they went straight to your core. She took slow steps towards you, as to test the waters on how you would react. You didn’t move an inch, letting her slowly make her way towards you. The grasp you had on the knife tightened in anticipation. When she came close enough she reached out to your hands, loosening your grasp from the knife she took it from you. Her eyes leave yours to study the object in her hands, the object she knew all too well. Her eyes darken as she grasps the handle, pointing the tip of the blade towards you now. The smirk never leaves her lips when she drags the tip of the blade lightly up your throat, stopping to tilt your chin up towards her. 

“You want to be mine right?” She asks. 

You bite your lip, “Only if you’ll allow it.” 

It was at this moment that you saw the true change in her eyes. The Ellie you once knew, the Ellie you grew up with wasn’t the Ellie in front of you now. This Ellie was different…darker…possessive. You wanted to know this version of her more than anything, the true her behind the mask. The person you dreamt of having for so long was finally yours and you were hers. It was at this moment that you knew there was no going back, the two of you now becoming one in her secret. You’d do anything for her, be anything for her. She felt the same, all those nights she watched you at your window. She’d get rid of anyone who tried to hurt you in any way, she’d protect you from any danger that dared to wander around you. God forbid she catches the ones that hurt you, they’d regret their last moments. 

Her eyes flickered back towards yours, keeping eye contact for just a moment before trailing around your face. They stop at your lips, how badly she’s wanted to kiss the plush skin for so long. She wastes no time and throws her knife to the side. Grabbing at the sides of your face she roughly presses her lips to yours. Your hands grasp at her shirt, kissing her back with just as much fervor. The kiss was far from innocent, teeth clashing and spit mixing, just how she liked it. She took your bottom lip in her teeth, pulling at the flesh and letting it flick back in place. Her lips lock back onto yours, you pull her closer by her shirt, needing to get as close as possible. 

She pulls back after a few seconds, you let out a whimper at the loss. Your eyes filled with desperation as you stared up at her. She coos at the sight, her thumb swiping the spit across your bottom lip. 

She licks her lips, “You gonna let me have you tonight?” 

You enthusiastically nod your head, “Y-yes.” You’re still shaken up by the sloppy kisses you two just shared. 

“Yeah? Gonna let me try something out on ya?” 

You continued to nod your head, you didn’t care what she did to you. You’d give her whatever she wanted if she asked, she knew this. Yet she still wants to make sure you’re okay with it. She then took your hands in hers, pulling you to stand up along with her, she then led you to the bed. She pushed you back onto it, you flopped onto the mattress waiting for her next move. She admired you for a moment before walking back by her pack, she grabbed the mask off the floor and slipped it on. 

“You want me to fuck you in this mask hm?” She asks. Not giving you time to reply she continues, “How much did you dream about this?” 

Your words were stuck in your throat, it was all too much but it was so fucking good. You had envisioned how your first night with Ghostface would play out. Staring into their mask, their fingers buried in you, giving you the utmost pleasure you craved. But this? This was better than anything you could have imagined. Especially when it was with the one woman you loved more than anything. 

She picked up her knife, twirling it in her hands. 

“I would use this but that persistent fucker had to ruin it for me.” She shook her head, the loose fabric at the ends swayed in the air. “Good thing I got another.” 

She walks over to her closet, digging around until she pulls out another Buck 120. She flips it over, checking out the shining blade and admiring it. She loved nothing more than her ol’ reliable knife. 

“Got this one as a back up, y'know just in case incidents like before happened. A slasher must always be prepared~” 

Her head looks up, the soulless black eyes staring into yours. You can hear the teasing tone in her voice when she talks to you. She’s well aware she has you wrapped around her finger, ready to do whatever she pleases. 

She stalks towards you, “I’m gonna fuck you with this knife now~.” Her hold on the knife now tighter, “Don’t worry baby it’s clean, haven’t killed anyone with this one…yet.” 

Your eyes widened, her words went straight to your core. You couldn’t help the little fidgets your body made as she slowly made her way towards you. You couldn’t see because of the mask but her eyes were trained on your thighs that clenched together in anticipation. You couldn’t help but rub them together, needing some sort of friction to relieve the heat building up between them. 

You couldn’t help but ask, “Which side?”

Ellie groaned at your question, “Fuck baby~ you want the blade? Are you that psycho for me?” 

You didn’t particularly want to be mutilated tonight, even though somewhere deep down in your fucked up brain the thought was there, you just wanted to make sure Ellie was on the same page. 

“Just curious…” You reply. 

She now stood in front of you, knife in her right hand. Her free hand comes up to rest on your knee, pushing it to the side to open your legs up for her. You can hear her heavy breaths through the mask. 

“As much as I wanna see you bleed, I don’t want it that way. That’s what your thighs are for.” 

Her hand strokes down your thigh, stopping midway to squeeze at the flesh. She brings her knife up to your skin, slicing it lightly enough to draw a tiny bit of blood. She flicks up the knife, her skills on display as she scoops the blood onto the blade, bringing it up to her mask and smearing it on the white rubber. She drags the knife down to the tip of the chin, tapping it against it a few times, as if in thought of what her next move is. You whimper at the sting of the cut, little droplets still flowing from it. She reaches up to smear the blood across your thigh, taking her time watching the way the red liquid spreads. 

“I’ve wanted to see you bleed for me so bad. S’Better than I ever imagined.” 

You bite your lip, holding back your whimpers as you wait impatiently for her next move. You wanted her to do something, to do anything to relieve the ache you felt. She turns the knife around in her hand, the grip pointing towards you. 

“I’m gonna fuck you with the handle instead. That way every time I slash someone I have a memory of you with me. It’ll be the only thing I’ll think about with my victims.” 

Her words flooded through your veins, firing up every cell in your body. You didn’t know she had such a way with her words, if she kept going you’d probably climax just from them alone. As much as her words had an effect on you, you wanted her to go along with her promise. 

“Please…just fuck me already Ellie.” You beg.

“Patience Doll~ You out of everyone should know I like to take my sweet time when it comes to my victims. But since you said please, I’ll give you what you want.” 

She sets the knife down next to you on the bed, her hands grip at the waistband of your shorts pulling them down. You were soaked, the fabric of your panties so wet that you could see the outline of your pussy. 

“Mmh so wet for me, all I did was speak to you and draw a little blood.” Her thumb presses into your slit, pushing against your juices. 

Her fingers hook into your panties pulling out the fabric, she then grabs her knife and cuts off your panties. You breath hitches at how close the blade was to your core, any closer and she would’ve cut you. Making you bleed for the second time that night. She chuckles at your reaction then shoves the panties into her back pocket, saving them for later. 

She pushes up your thigh, opening you up for her and lines up the knife handle to your entrance. She teases you, gliding the end of it up and down your slit collecting up your juices to lube up the knife. 

“You ready Doll?” She asks. 

You whisper out a yes as she slowly slides the handle into your pussy, watching you grip onto it. You can feel her push back on your thigh more, making you stretch so she can get a nice view of you. Even though it was happening in front of her she couldn’t believe you were sprawled out before her like this. She’d catch herself staring at her knife imagining how it would look against your skin, how much she craved to slide it through your folds. Now that she was here it was almost too much, but she didn’t let her excitement take control. She wanted to fully immerse herself in this experience, taking all of you in. From the scrunches of your brows to the curling of your toes, she wanted to see all of you. 

She carefully dragged out the knife, her hand delicately holding the blade. She pushes the handle in and out of you, setting a slow steady rhythm. You writhe under her touch, not being able to hold back your moans anymore, the cool handle adding to the pleasure. You grab onto her wrist, holding her tight. You look up at her mask and she catches your movements tilting up her head. You’re staring hard enough to see her eyes through the meshed fabric, seeing the darkness behind them. She’s wanted this just as much as you did and you’re so glad it’s her that’s giving you this much pleasure. As good as it felt you wanted more, the slow pace was killing you. In a way you felt like she was holding back, still too afraid to lose herself, scared that she might hurt you. 

“Ellie…” You moan out, she twists the knife slightly muttering a yes. 

“Please don’t hold back.” Her movements stop and you whine at her, “I want you to let yourself go, let Ghostface come out.” 

Ellie’s hand quivered at your words, were you sure? Once she’s in that mindset she’s gone, she doesn't wanna risk too much. Although her dark thoughts were always in the back of her mind, how badly she wanted to drill her knife into you and watch you squirm at her force. 

“Baby, are you sure? I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself.” 

You loved when she called you that, “Yes, I’m sure. I want it this way, I’m begging you~.” 

You gave her wrist a reassuring squeeze and that was all she needed before the light in her switched. The Ellie you grew up with, knowing better than anyone is not the Ellie that’s in front of you now. That confirmation from you was all she needed to let her true side take control. It happened so fast you didn’t know how to react, Ellie had grabbed you and flipped you over. Making sure your ass was up in the air, almost hanging off the edge of the bed. You braced yourself on your hands, an oof coming out of your lips when she pushed your face down into the mattress. 

You felt a harsh smack on your ass, you moaned at the sting it left behind. She kneads the flesh after, spreading you open and admiring you from behind. Without second thought she reaches down to grab the knife, this time firmly grabbing it by the blade as she plunges the handle inside you once again. She wastes no time fucking you hard and fast, her knuckles white from how hard she holds onto the blade. 

“F-fuck Ellie!” You gasp out. 

You’re in ecstasy, loving the way her demeanor changed. She loses herself in you, focused on the handle pushing in and out of you, how your juices cover the handle and drip down the blade onto her hand. 

“You like that Doll? You’re taking this knife so well~ M’so proud of you.” 

Your moans grow louder by the second, you’re not able to hold back anymore, not that Ellie wants you to anyway. You grip the bed sheets tight, your face repeatedly pushing into the mattress at her relentless force. You knew she was strong but fuck not like this. You were never really on the receiving end of her strength to truly know but now that you were you could see why no one stood a chance against her. She slaps at your ass again before she brings her free hand down to rub circles against your clit causing you to cry out. If she kept fucking you this way it wouldn’t take long for you to reach your high. 

“Shit-” You heard her whisper. 

You whip your head to the side to look at her. You can see her head tilt up to look back at you, she suddenly took her hand off your clit to reach up and tear off her mask. Her hair was a mess, tangled and stuck to her face in other spots from her sweat. Her eyes were blown wide, a harsh darkness to them you’ve never seen before and her lips. Her lips were red and plush from how much she bit them at the sight of you. You were a masterpiece to her, this was all she ever wanted. When she pushed her hair out of the way you noticed the blood that smeared along her forehead. She saw your eyes on her hand and gave you a lopsided smile, her hand going back down to rub at your clit once more. 

“Fuckin’ you so hard I cut myself.” She laughs darkly, “You don’t mind right?” 

Well fuck-

Your eyebrows scrunched together at her words, “No!” You moaned. “Don’t mind.” 

You could barely form sentences from how good she was making you feel, she knew this and she reveled in that fact. A cocky smirk on her lips as her eyes watched the way you squirmed and stuttered under her. She could give less of a fuck that she’s bleeding, your pleasure being the only thing that matters. It didn’t take much longer for you to feel the build up in the pit of your stomach, you were close. 

“Ellie I’m so close, please don’t stop~”

“Don’t plan on it Doll~” Ellie replies, speeding up her movements, if that were even possible. 

You bury your face into the mattress but then you feel a harsh smack to your clit. 

“I wanna hear your moans Sweetheart, don’t hide them from me now.” 

You nod your head rapidly, tears are starting to form in your eyes from all the pleasure you’re experiencing. Who would’ve thought you’d be right here, experiencing the one thing you wanted the most, you never thought your day would end up like this. You’re thankful nonetheless, this is exactly what you wanted and you wouldn’t want anyone else doing it to you. 

It didn’t take long until you reached your high. 

“Ahh~ I’m cumming!” 

Your back arched more, pulling at the sheets so hard they come undone from the edges. Ellie doesn’t slow down her movements either, ignoring the pain in her hand she keeps sliding the knife in and out of you. She watched as your juices flowed down onto the blade and her hand, mixing in with her blood. It made her moan out loud, a sight she’d never forget. 

“Mmm cum for me Doll, just like that. I wanna see your juices on my blade.” 

She helps you ride out your orgasm and your legs start to tremble. She chuckles at the state you’re in and slowly pulls the blade out of your pussy, watching your sticky juice strings stick to the handle. You watch her bring up the knife to her lips, sucking your juices off the handle, you whimper at her actions. When she’s done she throws the knife to the floor, her hands back onto you she spreads her blood up your thigh and onto your ass cheek as she gives you one last squeeze. You’re panting as you turn yourself over to lay on your back, she helps you lie down with a dark smile. She loves how she got you to this point, as much as she’d like to do it again she decides to save it for another night. 

She reaches over to give your hand a quick squeeze saying she’ll be right back as she walks over to her bathroom. After a few moments she comes back with a wet towel, a cloth is tied around her hand to stop the blood from flowing. She walks over to you and wipes away all the blood and cum off your body, giving soothing strokes to your skin afterwards. 

“So…” Ellie starts, “You gonna turn me in?” 

You can’t help the snort that comes out of your throat, “Fuck off.” 

“Is that a no, or?” She questions a knowing smile on her lips. 

“I let you fuck me with your knife, do you think I’m gonna turn you in?” 

She laughs at your response, “Just fuckin’ with ya.” 

She climbs into the bed lying next to you, throwing the towel onto the floor, she faces you and strokes your cheek with the back of her knuckles. You look over at her with tired eyes and a warm smile, she really does switch up fast. 

The two of you wrap up in each other's arms for the rest of the night. You ask all about her time as Ghostface, wanting to know every gory detail and she tells you it all. After a few hours of chatting you both lay in silence, content in each others presence. 

Ellie speaks up first, “So…about that pizza?”

⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧

RAVIOLIII!! I hope you all enjoyed my fic!! I thank you all for reading my content! I have more on the way but I will be taking a small break to work on my drag projects I got going on!! As always any feedback is appreciated as I always want to level up my writing. Thank you all for being patient with me!! You Beauties~ have a wonderful day/night!!

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(if you would like to be tagged in any of my works lmk hehe~)

@moonlightdivine , @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshametohidemyshame

#FINALLY HEREHREREHRHEHR #HOPE YALL ENJOY!! #YOU LITTLE WHORES<33 #ghostface!ellie williams #ghostface!ellie williams x reader #ghostface!ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams the last of us 2 #dark!ellie williams #stalker!ellie williams #possessive!ellie williams #ellie tlou2 #tlou2 #the last of us 2 #ghostface #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams one shot #ellie!ghostface #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams x female reader #my ellieberry

[zuyoo]

the flowers, one-shot. ﹙ gn!reader ﹚

content warning — profanity, unhealthy relationship, alcohol consumption. characters are in college

zuyoo’s notes — i have surprise at the end mwa. enjoy reading! not proofread bc lazy. reblogs appreciate :<

frequent arguments with your long-time boyfriend is very common. given his attitude, and how long you’ve known him—you grew used to it. but there’d be specific days where he’d completely isolated himself up and locked you—his girlfriend—out completely. you understand that sometimes, self-isolation is okay. it’s understandable and normal. but this has happened way too many times now, “more than both your fingers and toes could count” too many times… and you grew tired of it.

you’re the girlfriend, his rock, his ride or die, but why can’t he make an exception for you? why does he make you feel like you’re no more than what the rest are? simply, why? you two made a promise to each other that you’d be there for each other, that you’d be each other’s safety pins. but why does the same thing happen over and over again?

whenever he’s in that phase again… ghosting everyone, including you. going on a “healing” vacation by himself, without your knowledge on where he’s headed. and before you could even begin to question him—he’s gone from his apartment.

all you could do was complain to your friends and ask them for advice on how to fix your relationship. which most of them answered with…

honestly, they have a point. but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“the way you love is actually just self-harm at this point, y/n”

“it’s all worth it though. he’s been with me since god knows when.”

“whatever helps you sleep at night. just… take care of yourself sometimes.”

he disassociates himself from everyone — he comes back — he argues with you — and he leaves again. an endless cycle.

you’re honestly starting to think that you’re the reason why he’s running away. thank god you have your friends (xiao, mostly. since he has the least to say.) to ground you.

though sometimes, you’ll see scaramouche in his living room, glancing at you to check what you’re doing. or even getting closer to your body when he thinks that you’ve already fallen asleep in the bed that you two share.

you know that he’s trying his best.

he just got back from his 3rd trip in the past month, and you have not spoken a word to him at all. you were mad and you wanted him to feel it.

later that day, he apologized. the scaramouche apologized..

“i’m sorry for not communicating. it was shitty of me, and i feel like a jerk for realizing it this late.”

mouth slightly agape, you didn’t know how to react. scaramouche’s eyes only looked at the ground after seeing your reaction. he had an idea of how upset you must’ve been and he felt like he deserved it if you just ended things with him on the spot—telling him that it’s too late for apologies.

but he flinched when he felt your arms wrap around his standing figure. you two didn’t say a word, but it was like you two were communicating through the fast beating of your hearts.

thank you for the flowers, btw. ﹙ short cont. ﹚

© zuyoo — do not copy, plagiarize, or translate my work without my permission. i only upload my work in tumblr.

#zuyoo ౨ৎ #workzuyoo ౨ৎ #genshin #genshin impact #genshin smau #scaramouche genshin impact #genshin scara #genshin scaramouche #genshin impact scaramouche #scaramouche genshin #scaramouche #scaramouche smau #scara x reader #genshin au #genshin impact au #genshin angst #genshin x reader #gi au #gi #xiao smau #xiao x reader #genshin xiao #xiao au #genshin impact xiao #wanderer genshin impact #wanderer genshin #genshin wanderer #genshin impact wanderer #wanderer #genshin smut

[nataliesfirefly]

You and I Walk a Fragile Line - Farleigh Start x F! Reader - Part 8

a/n: heyy loves! if you’ve stuck around for all 8 parts, thank you SOOO much. writing this series and receiving so many kind comments and love has really made the past month and a half so enjoyable. i cant believe i’m concluding my first fic already!! it’s been so fun and i definitely want to write more. shoutout to my friend @avessss who encouraged me to start posting even though i was really nervous. i couldn’t have done it without her 💕 but anyways enjoy the last chapter! not sure when i will post next but until then… message me, give suggestions, etc!! love you all SOO much 💌

word count: 4.6k words

masterlist

playlist

warnings: MDNI 18+, afab reader, smut, oral (reader receiving), p in v, making out, language, angst for like one second, FLUFF, mentions of alcohol, not proofread

“A pint, please. Thanks.” You smile at the bartender as you slide forward five pounds. You stand and wait patiently, leaning against the bar as he shuffles away to go fill up a tall glass of beer.

You hear your name being said from next to you. You turn to see a familiar girl with olive skin and long, silky black hair. Your brain takes a few seconds to compute who it is.

“Sasha! Hey,” You grin and she smiles brightly. “Hi. I didn’t know if it was you or not,” She chuckles and you stand there awkwardly, not sure of what to say.

“How’s life?” She asks. “Uhh, good. Can’t complain.” You shrug as the bartender slides you the beer across the counter. You take a sip as she nods.

“Same here. Just a little terrified of the fact that we are going to be seniors in a year,” She runs a hand through her hair with a sigh. “Me too, girl.” You nod in agreement.

“How was your summer?” Sasha asks. You let out a sigh unintentionally before fixing your facial expression.

“It was… good,” You nod slowly, almost trying to convince yourself. “I don’t know if you know but…There’s a rumor going around that you and Farleigh had somewhat of a summer fling,” She winces after she says this.

“Oh God,” You press a hand to your forehead and shake your head. “Who told you that?” You groan.

“I’m assuming it came from Felix. I’m not sure, but I just wanted to tell you…” She places a hand on your shoulder comfortingly. “If you ever need to talk or anything like that, let me know.” She says, her English accent soft and elegant.

She seems almost too nice. You’ve never seen Sasha like this, so it’s hard to believe.

“Thank you.” You dip your head and take another sip of beer. “I know I was never the nicest to you and we were never close, but I’m here for you.” Her hand falls from your shoulder gently.

“I think I was honestly just threatened by you,” She continues. You jerk your head towards her quickly and furrow your eyebrows.

“What? Why?” You scoff as if it’s absurd. “I always had this… gut feeling that he was in love with you or something. He would talk about you nonstop, about how much you annoyed him and how much he ‘hated you.’ I knew better,” She shakes her head.

“Oh. Shit. I’m sorry,” You feel bad, suddenly. Like you were the cause of their relationship problems.

“But that whole thing is over now,” You wave your hand dismissively. “He’s an asshole, isn’t he?” You both giggle at her words.

“He is. I can see why you broke up with him,” You nod, feeling no remorse for talking about Farleigh this way. It’s all true. But you also know Sasha had a lot to do with the shitty parts of their relationship.

“I’ll see you around, yeah?” She grins and holds up her hand, giving a tiny wave. “Yeah. See you,” You watch her walk away before turning back to your drink, grabbing it and heading to find an empty table.

You sigh, leaning down and fishing your textbook out of your bag. You still have four chapters to read before tomorrow. The first term of your junior year is kicking your ass, even though it’s only October.

Sooner or later, you see Felix walking through the entrance of the pub. You immediately crane your neck to search for any signs of Farleigh, since he usually follows Felix around. But thankfully, he’s not anywhere to be found.

You turn your attention back to your textbook, and when you glance back up, Felix is sitting across from you.

“Hey.” He smiles and you notice the cigarette between his fingers. “Hi. How are you?” You reply, not exactly in the mood to talk to him right now.

“Oh, you know. Just drowning in work,” He sighs and leans back in his chair, throwing his head back slightly.

“You and me both,” You chuckle lightly and close your textbook, knowing you won’t get anything read so long as Felix is here. He leans forward again and takes a drag from his cigarette.

“So…” He starts, trailing off. You raise your eyebrows. “So?”

“Are you and Farleigh ever going to make up?” He asks suddenly. You cough, surprised by the abrupt question.

“No.” You shake your head. “Don’t even try it, Felix.” You roll your eyes and he groans. “Please, we don’t even get to hang out much anymore because you’re avoiding him,” He whines.

“Then just… arrange a time to hang out with me when Farleigh isn’t there.” You grimace at the feeling of his name in your mouth. Felix facepalms. “C’mon. Look, I don’t know what happened between you two, but…”

“It sounds like you think you know what happened.” You narrow your eyes and he seems confused. “What?” He tilts his head.

“Lola told me you’re spreading rumors. Like, that Farleigh and I had some fling over the summer,” You explain, and he glances down like he’s been caught, before looking back up with amusement twinkling in his eyes.

“What, you thought no one would hear you two fucking at one in the morning? You guys were so loud, it’s like you wanted to be caught,” He chuckles and shakes his head. Your face burns beet red with embarrassment.

“I don’t judge you for it. I just didn’t expect it,” He says. “Okay, but that doesn’t mean you go telling everyone about it,” You reply.

“I didn’t mean to. I told one person in confidence.” Felix says. “You know you can’t trust these people to keep things to themselves,” You shake your head in disappointment.

“Okay, I’m sorry. But I think Farleigh really wants to talk to you.” He says, his tone persuasive and you immediately cringe.

“I’m not talking to him. Nothing will come of it,” You finish off your beer and set the glass on the table decisively.

“I just don’t want our friendship to be messed up because of this.” He says, sounding a bit sad. You look back up to him and see him glancing down at his lap.

“We’re good. It doesn’t have anything to do with you.” It comes off harsher than you meant it to, but Felix doesn’t seem to mind. “I can’t just forgive and forget, you know?”

He nods. “Yeah. Alright, then. Just consider talking to him. I’ll see you later, mate.” He drums his fingers on the table before standing up and walking to the bar. You sigh and decide to pack up your things after checking your watch and seeing the time. It’s getting late.

You stand up and grab your bag, slinging it over your shoulder. You walk out of the pub and down the cobbled streets while looking around and just observing the several groups of students, chatting loudly or laughing. The chilly autumn breeze tosses around crimson and golden leaves.

You go over your plans for the remainder of tonight in your head. You’re going to get back to your dorm, take a shower, then get the rest of your work done. That is, if you don’t procrastinate like you usually do.

You enter your dorm building and then stop in your tracks when you see him standing there, at the bottom of the stairs. It’s like you have a full body reaction to him standing in front of you, sending a chill down your spine and making your stomach churn. He doesn’t speak, he just stares at you. You step forward, walking up the stairs and completely ignoring him. “Can we please talk?” Farleigh calls your name.

“No, we can’t.” You respond, your tone harsh and bitter. You hear footsteps coming up the stairs behind you and you increase your pace, trying to get to your door and unlock it before he can catch up to you. But it’s no use, he’s already standing there behind you.

“Please. Just let me talk to you,” He begs. You shake your head. “Farleigh, I already know how this is going to go. You don’t talk.” You can’t even stand to look at him, even addressing him is difficult after all these months of not speaking.

“I’m going to talk. I swear. Please,” He pleads. “Fine,” You groan with exasperation as you unlock your door, although you’re sort of curious as to what he’s going to say.

He closes the door behind him and you go to sit on the edge of your bed after setting your things down and kicking off your shoes, looking at him expectantly. “Okay, talk.”

“I’m sorry. For everything.” Farleigh says, and it surprisingly sounds sincere. “I’m sorry for being a dick to you all these years. And those things I said at Saltburn, I didn’t mean any of it.” His voice is quiet and he looks down at the ground as he speaks. You blink a few times and take a moment to respond.

“Why would you say those things if you never meant them?” You ask, your own voice timid as you remember all the harsh and cruel words he said to you that one night.

“Did you mean it when you said you hated me and you wished we never met?” He fires back. You bite the inside of your cheek and avoid his gaze as regret washes over you. “...I never said–”

“Yes you did.” It’s silent and the tension in the air is palpable. It seems like you’re both waiting for who is going to speak next, but you aren’t exactly sure what to say.

“I just don’t understand why you’re so eager to apologize when you’ve literally hated me since the day we first met,” You chuckle sarcastically and shake your head. He falls silent, and when you glance back up to him, he looks nervous, like something’s on the tip of his tongue.

“That’s not… exactly true.” He mutters. “I never hated you. I’ve loved you since the moment I first saw you. That night at Saltburn, when Felix introduced us to each other. I saw you and I just felt… Something just came over me. I’d never felt it before. I mean, I was so captivated by you. I couldn’t sleep that night because I was thinking about you every second. And I was scared. I was so scared. So I was mean to you.”

He lets out a breath after his confession and you stare at him in disbelief. You’re barely processing anything he’s saying. Is this real? You feel like you should pinch yourself to make sure you’re not dreaming.

“And Felix never kept his friends around for long, so I knew I couldn’t get attached to you. I thought you were just passing by and that I would never see you again. But when you came back the next summer, then the next, and then you got into Oxford, I knew I was fucked.

“I just kept pushing my feelings down and instead of dealing with them, I was just… a bitch. I was trying to push you away and I was hoping that would get rid of my feelings. But it didn’t. And I regret it so, so much. I wasted all this time and I was being so stupid. I was just scared of love. I was scared of loving you.”

You feel tears welling up in your eyes and you can hear your heart pounding in your chest. You swear you can see tears in his own eyes.

“What about Sasha?” You ask when you finally gather yourself. “Really? You don’t know why I dated Sasha?” He chuckles a bit like it should be obvious. You shake your head no.

“I just needed someone to distract me. I got with all those people to fill the void. I mean, Sasha and I’s relationship was purely based off of sex. And every single time, I pictured that it was you instead of Sasha. I would close my eyes and imagine it was you. I think that was the only way I was able to get off,” He laughs. Your eyes widen at his words and your stomach flips. So that was why he was always moaning like a bitch?

“So when we finally… I freaked out. It was getting too real, and so I pushed you away again. And I said some shitty things.” You blink and a few tears fall. You don’t even know how to describe how you’re feeling right now. So many emotions are building inside of you, and they’re so dense and heavy, you’re not sure how to comprehend them.

“I’m so, so fucking sorry.” Farleigh seems to notice that you’re crying. “You didn’t deserve any of that. I’m a fucking idiot,”

Before you know it you’re off of your bed, crashing into him and sobbing against his chest. He wraps his arms around you, locking you in a tight embrace and enveloping you in his warmth. Your shoulders shake as you feel all the emotions pouring out of you. He holds you like he’s never going to let go. You don’t want him to let go. Ever.

“I’m so sorry,” He whispers your name into your hair. “I’ll never do that to you again.” He continues muttering these things to you as you let him hold you, melting into the hug.

You look up at him and his brown eyes are illuminated with affection. Something about him is different. He’s softer, unlike his usual cold and teasing personality.

He gently moves some hair out of your face and kisses your forehead, causing you to blush and smile softly.

“Why did we waste so much time when we could have been together?” You ask timidly, more of a rhetorical question. He sighs and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Cause we’re stupid,” He chuckles and you let out a quiet laugh. “It doesn’t matter now. We have the rest of our lives to make up for it,” He grins down at you and you smile against his hand that cups your face. He leans down and you tilt your head up to meet his lips. The kiss you share is slow and sensual, like you’re both trying to savor each other for as long as possible, like you’re making up for all those years of fabricated hatred. You can’t deny that you missed his lips and the way that he kisses, the way his tongue licks into your mouth. He pulls away after a minute.

“But I still feel like I need to make it up to you,” Farleigh’s expression changes and his voice lowers to that familiar deep and gravelly sound. You can see the lust in his eyes and you feel butterflies swarming in your stomach.

“What should I do for you, baby?” His hands snake down to your hips as he lowers himself slowly to the ground until he’s on his knees. Your heart races and you feel chills racing across your skin.

He looks up at you and you swear your knees almost give out from underneath you just at the sight. “Far..” You giggle shyly and feel your face burn red.

His fingers fiddle with the waistband of your skirt, almost teasing you and waiting until you ask him to take it off. But after a moment he’s pulling it down gently, and you step out of it gingerly and nudge it to the side with your foot.

He groans and his hands roam up and down your thighs. “You’re so perfect,” He mumbles as he hooks your lace panties under his fingers and pulls them down as well, almost hurriedly this time like he’s just that eager to eat you out until you’re sobbing for him.

Without any warning or time to prepare, his mouth is already on you, tasting you passionately with his tongue and moaning, the vibrations going straight to your core.

You moan breathlessly, your hand reaching down to tangle in his curly hair for something to ground you, and he seems to like this. He keeps letting out these small, needy whines like he’s the one getting devoured.

Every swirl and flick of his tongue has you whimpering like you’re in pain, your legs feeling unstable and weak. He sucks on your clit and you feel two of his fingers already inching their way inside, curling inside of you deliciously. It’s all too much and your breath has turned into short, high-pitched, desperate huffs.

“Please- Shit, Farleigh,” The third finger he inserts draws a long moan out of you. You don’t care if your neighbors hear you. You’re too lost in the pleasure that he’s giving you, with no drawbacks or regret looming in the future. When you think about how he just confessed his love for you, it only brings you closer to the edge of your beautiful release.

He laps up your slick, his tongue getting dangerously close to your entrance. You gasp for air as his fingers leave, only to be replaced by his tongue. You whine at the new feeling of his tongue deep inside of you, his thumb circling your clit. You feel your climax approaching, threatening to make you crumble and beg for mercy.

A deep and guttural groan leaves him as he continues fucking you with his tongue. “Far, I’m close-“ Your hand twists in his hair and you roll your hips against his face absentmindedly, almost like you’re stuck in a trance.

His tongue slips out of you, his nose nudging against your clit. Then, you’re gone. You feel like you’re floating, like you’re the only two people in the world right now, all your thoughts disappearing as that divine ecstasy shoots through your veins and melts your muscles and your bones.

He stands back up and takes you into his strong arms, cradling you as he brings you over to your bed, with occasional kisses along the way. You both pull away to tear off your clothes. You hurriedly pull off your sweater and your bra and toss them aside, hearing them land somewhere on the floor. Farleigh takes his own shirt off and his jeans, revealing that beautiful body you’ve subconsciously been dreaming of.

“Lay down,” You tell him with some sort of newfound confidence. You’ve never been on top before, but right now you want to pay him back and give him all that you have to offer.

“Mmm,” He hums in response, laying down on your small, twin-sized bed. You climb onto the bed and straddle him, feeling slightly nervous as his hands rest on your hips. You keep your hands on his chest as you grind your hips down onto him, feeling the form of him through his boxers.

He’s rock hard, and it only encourages you to continue to grind against him, rolling your hips smoothly and slowly. He whimpers and grips your hips harder, biting his lip. “Fuck, baby,” He moans, his hips bucking up slightly to meet yours.

You can’t wait anymore. You reach down and maintain eye contact as you slowly pull down his boxers, shuffling them down his legs.

It’s definitely intimidating, but you’re determined to ride him. He looks up at you. “Is this okay?” He asks, his hands returning to your hips. You nod. “Yeah,” You reply before rising up on your knees and adjusting yourself before sinking down onto him.

You wince at the delicious pain as your teeth sink into the plush of your bottom lip, his hands guiding you further down his length. A string of curses leave his lips once his whole cock is inside of you. He definitely missed this.

You place your hands on his chest again as you begin to drag your hips back and forth. He whimpers and whispers your name like a prayer. “That’s it, fuck-“ His grasp on your hips tighten and you can already guess that you’ll have bruises.

You rock your hips back and forth, creating a better pace for the two of you as he thrusts up into you. That pained look crosses his face again as you make eye contact. You’re completely enthralled by the sight of each other, a sheen of sweat forming on both of your foreheads. Your head falls back once you finally find the perfect angle that brings you such satisfaction, your jaw going slack. “Baby,” He begs, breathing heavily.

You feel yourself growing tired from the fast rhythm, and you slow down, still circling your hips on top of him. He seems to sense that you’re growing fatigued, so he flips the two of you over, switching your places. You’re dizzy and caught off guard, but you focus on his eyes as he takes over, slowly thrusting into you with long strokes.

Farleigh reaches down to grab your hand, intertwining your fingers together and holding on tightly. He lowers his head to pepper kisses across your forehead, your nose, your cheeks. He brushes some hair out of your face.

“I love you,” He mutters, his nose rubbing against yours. Your eyes widen at his words and your heart skips a beat. You squeeze his hand weakly and grin.

“I love you too,” You whisper back, feeling tears brimming in your eyes. “I love you so much,” You tell him, and he lets his head fall into the crook of your neck as he moans desperately, his thrusts faltering. Your other hand rests on the top of his head, stroking his curls. You both finish at the same time, whispering each other’s names and more confessions of love. It’s meaningful, beautiful, and sweet. Something you’ve craved but never experienced. That is, until now.

He collapses next to you and eventually pulls out of you, causing you to grunt just a bit. You lay there, your legs entangled with his and his arms around you protectively. He pulls the sheets over the two of you and continues to kiss you slowly with so much passion and affection.

Farleigh pulls away and swipes the tears off your cheeks, his gaze never leaving yours. You take his hand in yours once again and press your forehead against his.

“I could get used to this,” You whisper with a cheeky grin. He laughs softly. “Really?” He responds sarcastically, raising his eyebrows.

“Really.” You giggle quietly and he presses another kiss to your cheek. “I would consider spending the rest of my life with you,” He shrugs nonchalantly and you can’t seem to stop smiling. You don’t think you’ve ever been this happy in your life.

“You’d consider it? Woah, thanks,” You say with fake awe, gasping. “I’ve been considering it for a while, actually,” He mutters, running his fingers through your hair. “Have you?” You whisper, suddenly feeling sleepy. Everytime he holds you like this, it puts you right to sleep. You feel so safe and loved in his arms.

“Mhm.” His other hand rests on the small of your back and you feel your eyelids growing heavy. “I love you, Farleigh,” You whisper. “I love you too.” He replies, and with that, you drift off to sleep, with no cares or worries in the world, now that you’ve finally solved your problems with Farleigh. You’re so glad you gave him a second chance.

The next morning you wake up to Farleigh pulling you closer to him, nuzzling his head in your chest and groaning. You yawn and glance over to your bedside table, checking the time on your alarm clock. 9:42 AM.

Shit. You forgot about your class. It started at 9:30. Oh well. You groan and let your head fall back onto the pillow, rubbing your forehead.You pat Farleigh’s head, his curls sticking out at awkward angles but still managing to look cute.

You shiver and reach down to pull the duvet over yourself. He stirs at your movement and eventually, his dark brown eyes open.

A grin immediately appears on his face as he looks at you, taking in your appearance. Thank God you hadn’t worn makeup the day before. You were in your natural state, besides the messy hair. He traces his finger along your jawline and you smile, tilting your head.

“Good morning,” He wraps you up in his arms again, desperate to be close to you. His voice is deep and raspy. You’ll never get tired of his morning voice.

“Morning,” You reply, snuggling up to him and breathing in his scent. He kisses the top of your head and rubs your back soothingly.

“Do you know how many times I’ve dreamt about waking up next to you?” Farleigh asks. You giggle quietly. “Well, your wish came true,” You reply with a quick raise of your brows.

Suddenly, you remember what Lola said that one night at Saltburn as you think about you and Farleigh’s relationship over the years.

“Lola told me something a few months ago,” You start. “Mmm, and what was that?” He responds.

You inhale slowly. “She said that you were looking for me one morning and you came by our dorm, and you seemed very worried about me,” You smile at the thought, knowing what you know now.

“Oh. Yeah, I remember that. I was always worried sick about you. Whether you got home after a night out, if you drank too much, if some guy took advantage of you…” He trails off and sighs.

“Really?!” You ask, gazing up at him in shock. “You’re so confusing,” You let out a breathy laugh and shake your head.

“Do you remember our first night at Oxford? The very first party we went to?” He asks. You nod. He fiddles with a strand of your hair.

“After our little… argument, I stayed away from you the rest of the night. But then it was getting late, and I couldn’t find you, and I didn’t know if you knew the way back to your dorm. When I went into the bathroom I found you passed out on the floor. Black out drunk.” He explains, his voice soft.

“Anyone could have found you, or taken advantage of you. So I picked you up and carried you back to your dorm and tucked you into your bed.” Your eyes widen as your brain registers his words. Lola never told you about that.

“And when we were talking that night on the steps outside at Saltburn when we couldn’t sleep, the first summer you were there, you fell asleep on my shoulder. So I carried you up to your room.”

It’s silent for a minute as you process this. Was it a common theme for Farleigh to carry you to your bed when you were passed out?

“I never knew you cared that much.” You whisper, reaching up to play with one of his curls. “I don’t think I knew, either.” He mumbles.

You kiss him, slowly and gently, smiling against his lips. He grins, breaking the kiss, before holding the back of your head and guiding you back to him.

And you really believe that in this moment, you could die happy. You want to spend the rest of your life with him. The hot August nights, the freezing December mornings, the summer days under cerulean skies. The good days and the bad days. You can’t even remember how it felt to hate Farleigh. Every single trace of dislike for him is gone, erased completely from your heart. All that’s left is a love too strong to comprehend.

taglist: @isla-finke-blog @ibimbogrl @drunkmysticsquirrel @alonia-olivia @novemilady @saltburnsworld @florkt @i-love-ptv @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha

#farleigh start #saltburn #farleigh start x reader #farleigh x reader #farleigh x you #farleigh saltburn #farleigh smut #Spotify

[lemons4u]

Hello, Pri! How are you? If you're ok w/ it, may I have the anemo boys with a s/o who enjoys seating on their lap? (Sfw)

notes ! OKAY THIS LITERALLY TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO ANSWER, so i’m really sorry 😭 and also i’m doing great thank you! also not proofread (my grammar is a little bad anyways so)

warnings ! fluff, heizou’s part is suggestive

v e n t i

he loves it when you sit on his lap! it gives him a nice a sense of comfort… to have you so close to him.

he also thinks it adorable lmao.

IMAGINE.

sitting in his lap while you both are out at the statue of seven at windrise— he’s putting windwheel asters in your hair as you read to him or something.

or maybe he’ll hum a tune for you!

it’s depends what he’s feelings like :3

“your hair is looking beautiful today, hehe..” venti cooed, tucking yet another flower in your hair.

“hmmh..” he pressed a delicate kiss to your temple. “no thank you?” he asked with a grin.

“no.” you reply, continuing to read your book.

“hmph. are you really going to treat your darling boyfriend like this?” he pouted before smiling again.

“yeah.”

“your so mean to me.”

x i a o

xiao gets a bit (very) flustered, the poor guy isn’t used to all of these acts of affection :<

the first time you asked he was like.

“you… wanna sit on my lap?” he’s adorable, oh my god.

IMAGINE.

sitting out on like a hill or smth, idk, watching the stars— on xiao’s lap.

it’s a really cute a wholesome thing that both of you (i’m assuming) like to do.

it’s usually really quiet, unless xiao decides to tell you about his day.

“i spoke a little with the traveller today.” he murmured, fiddling with your hair.

“aw.. you did?” you tilted your head.

xiao didn’t really speak to anyone aside from you, so it made you happy when your boyfriend finally decides to speak with someone.

“about what though?”

“about you.. the traveller wanted to ask you some questions— but i told them i could answer them instead.” he said dully.

“i could’ve answered them myself..” you mutter.

“i know that… but i felt like talking about you at that moment.”

you laugh a little. “oh really? you wanted to speak about me?”

“yes… i mean you are my s/o right? i can speak about you… unless you don’t want me to?”

“no! it’s fine if you wanna talk about me…”

“are you… sure?”

“yes i’m sure!”

k a z u h a

he’s like venti, he loves when you sit on his lap :3

maybe he’d be a little surprised at first, but he doesn’t object.

IMAGINE.

the two of you sitting out on the crux, watching the sunset reflect on the ocean. (idk)

you could be reading a poem he wrote to you— or you could just genuinely be talking to each other.

either way it’s adorable.

“kazuuu.. this poem is adorable.” you coo, smiling fondly at the piece he dedicated to you.

“is it? i really don’t think it’s all that good.. compared to my other poems.”

“nono! it is! i absolutely love this one..” you say in defense.

“oh…? i thought it was a bit… um.. corny?” kazuha said with a laugh.

“well it’s not… i think it’s quite lovely.” you cross your arms.

“whatever you say, love…” he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“whatever you say..”

h e i z o u

he finds a way to tease you for it… like this man literally will not stop teasing you when you ask him to sit on his lap.

when you first ask him he’s like this though…

“oh? you wanna sit on my lap?” he grinned at you.

“how could i ever deny such a request?” he cooed.

“but… may i ask why you wanna sit on my lap?”

he’s got a very dirty mind so like… um, just be aware.

IMAGINE.

sitting on his lap while he works on his cases or smth, idk.

i actually hc he rushes through his work, so like he always makes mistakes.

but then you, his beautiful s/o, can help him fix them!

(he 100% makes mistakes on purpose)

“mmhhm..” heizou arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his body.

he craved to feel your body against his.

“you… made a mistake over here..” your murmur, circling it so he could fix it later.

“oh? did i? my, my… i’ve been making so many mistakes recently.” he smiled innocently.

“maybe you should doublecheck my papers, just in case.”

that… was just excuse to have on his lap for even longer. ( he probably wants it and likes more than you do )

“i’m already double checking them.”

“hmm… triple check?”

“heizou.”

“hehe..”

w a n d e r / s c a r a m o u c h e

“no.”

was the only thing you heard when you first asked scara.

you would just have to beg then.

IMAGINE.

whining and complaining to scara about literally just sitting on his lap—

it was a small thing, really, but were you just going to let it go? nope.

“pleaseee scara! all the other couples do it!” you pout, furrowing your eyebrows at him.

“yeah… and i’m not like those other couples.” he responded coldly.

“arghh.. you suck.” you whine, flopping down on the bed.

“hmph..” he crossed his arms.

“you are making such a big deal. it’s really nothing major.”

“to me it is.” you frown.

there’s a moment of silence before a idea pops up in your head, it was probably a bad one… but whatever!

“i bet any other guy would let me..” you sigh, almost dreamily.

“what?”

“mhm.. like childe…”

you were answered by silence once again.. scaramouche was just staring out, arms crossed with a unreadable expression.

“fine then.”

before you knew scaramouche rushed to the bed beside you— tackling you into his lap.

“your gonna stay here now.”

“but..”

“nuh uh.”

#venti #genshin venti #venti x reader #venti x you #xiao #xiao genshin impact #xiao x reader #xiao x you #kazuha #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha x reader #kazuha x you #heizou #shikanoin heizou #heizou x you #heizou x y/n #scaramouche #genshin scara #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin x reader #genshin x you #answered — ✋ #anon — 🧸 #i put wayyy too many tags lmao

[estxkios]

I was just wondering if you could write a one shot or something where basically Bill, from 2007 because I love his hair and it becomes a key point, is at an interview with the boys. The interviewer asks if they have any celebrity crushes. Bill says Reader, who’s from an American pop group, later the same interviewer interviews Readers band and ask the same question. Obviously telling reader that Bill from Tokio Hotel has a crush on them. Reader didn’t know who he was at first by name but remembered when a member of their band reminded them of a song they had played for Reader. Reader of course gets excited and is all like, “The one with the big spiky porcupine hair?! Someone get me in contact with him ASAP-.” And soon it gets back to Bill and how he’d react. Kinda long, I’m sorry.

CRUSH ੈ✩‧₊˚

bill kaulitz x fem!reader

summary: read the request loll

warnings : fluff, celebrity chrushes, reader is in a band!!! and also its not proofread, that should honestly be a warning.

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It was probably the 6th interview of the day, and needless to say, bill was bored.

he was bored of being asked the same questions all day long, “what is it like being a twin? or “what do you guys look for in girls?”

frankly, he was totally over it. he could’ve sworn he was about to fall asleep when suddenly the interviewer said, “okay, bill! it your turn to say who your celebrity crush is!” she paused an looked the rest of the boys while saying, “who could be the lucky girl?”

“oh! well..” bill softly chewed his bottom lip as he thought. “hm, i would have to say y/n/l/n, yeah.”

the room filled with ooo’s as bill giggled.

“really? wow, what a coincidence..” the interview laughed to herself and bill cocked his head

“whats a coincidence?” tom butted in.

“we are having her on our show next weekend, such a shame. you could have shoot your shot if you were scheduled for sunday!” the interviewer obnoxiously laughed at her own sentence, pointing at the camera and staring into it.

although the others laughed with her, bills heart sank to his feet at the interviewers words.

‘i could’ve met y/n/l/n if we had just scheduled for sunday?! fuck.’ he cursed himself.

———————————————time skip - a week later.

"Alright y/n, last question for the day!" the interviewer enthusiastically said, into her microphone, but moving the microphone away to clear her throat before talking.

you chuckled at the interviewers unique personality, although you werent even sure if you were laughing to make the interveiw less awkward, or if you were actually enjoying the experience.

"sorry," she cleared her throat once more before starting again, "so, the question every man wants to know.." she dramatically paused and stared into the camera before turning back to you, "who is your celebrity crush y/n?!"

you looked over to the drummer of your band, valerie, who chuckled, she knew you didnt have a celebrity crush, which made the suspense of the interveiwers question very awkward.

"well.. you see, she doesnt really have a crush." your bandmate connie said, adjusting her miniskirt.

"wow really? the fabulous y/n doesnt have a crush?!" the interveiwer made a suprised face at the 3 girls sitting on the couch.

her face made the 3 of you chuckle lightly, but soon your face twisted into a look of curiosity when the interviewer said, "well, y/n i know someone who has a crush on you!"

you perked up, slightly taken aback by what she had said. "oh, well.." you smiled lightly, "who is it?"

"bill kaulitz." the interviewer paused to look at you, and connie grabbed your arm while valerie's jaw hung open.

there was an awkward silence until you squeaked out, "..who..?"

"ohmygodhowdoyounotknowbillkaulitzwhattheacctualffuckheslikethehottestrockeronearthrightnow!!" Valerie shouted, almost breaking the sound barrier of the mic that was fixed onto the ceiling.

connie shot her a look that said 'slow the fuck down'

so she did exactly that.

"okay, y/n hes the guy who sings durch den monsun!! the song i was playing earlier on the way here..!" she shook your thigh as she spoke.

oh. my. god.

"THE bill kaulitz..? the spiky hair guy likes me?!" you squealed, realization hitting you like a bullet.

"yeah, he's totally smoking, shoot your shot girl!" the interviewer chimed in.

"oh yeah, he is hot.." you said slowly, lost in a long train of thought.

"alright guys! well thats today's interview with, connie, y/n, and valerie from b/n!" the interviewer giggled as the camera guy zoomed in on your dazed out expression.

you laughed out of embaressment and squeezed connies hand once you realized what you were doing.

and soon after the interview was over, your asistsnt came running to you.

"shit, you loook hot! like, you know, temperature hot!" she paused and looked you up and down, "do you need water? a wet towel?..."

but you accidentally drowned out her talking and brought your hand up to your cheek, which was in fact extremely temperature hot.

fuck, were you blushing?

------------------------------------------- time skip - 3 days later.

it was late at night, bills face was sticky with makeup remover and his hairwas pushed off of his forehead, he turned to his side to face tom, hoping he would have someone to talk to.

"tom?" bill whispered and smacked toms shoulder

"halt die klappe.." tom groaned in annoyance and rolled over, turning away from bill.

bill whined loudly and layed on his back, looking at his ceiling for a breif moment before reaching to the hotel nightstand, groping aimlessly until his hand landed on his computer, witched he swiftly grabbed and put in his lap.

he opened his computer and instantly he computers bright light hit his face.

bill squinted as he typed in his password. he waited a moment before he opened his browser, letting his eyes adjust to the light.

finally, he opened google and searched 'teen.com tv/(y/n/l/n)' and clicking the first video that came up.

he looked at your band members before laying his eyes on you and smiling like a fan girl.

he bit his manicured nail as he watched you talk, completely and utterly consumed by every word you said, and he giggled when he thought about the fact that he had sat in that exact interviewing room the weekend before

bill was lost deep in his thoughts when he heard someone a name that seemed extremely familiar.

his jaw dropped and he paused he video, staring at the screen for a few moments before rewinding the video.

had he heard that right?

he watched the video again.

"THE bill kaulitz..? the guy with spiky hair likes me?" your voice echoed out of his laptop

he watched in complete shock as you said this, blush creeping across his whole face.

his eyes stayed wide and his jaw still dropped as he played he video over and over again.

he couldn't watch the rest of the video.

he closed his browser and immediately went to his gmail, and pulled up his managers name.

he wrote faster then he ever had before, with all the typos it was hard to decipher, but he wrotr something along the lines of "hey!! please get m3 in contact with y/n/l/n!"

he attached the video clip of you saying "THE bill kaulitz..?" along with your manager's email address.

he shut the laptop, too stunned to eeven move.

he threw his head back and ran a hand through his hair.

bill fought the urge to shake tom awake and tell him, but knowing tom that wouldn't end well, so bill just laid splayed out on the bed until his phone buzzed

"bill? its me, y/n. my manager gave me your number. :) let me know if u wanna me up sometime, yeah?"

"holy shit" bill practically shouted

"mmm..." tom groaned and punched bill in his sleep.

but bill couldn't care less, THE y/n had just texted him.

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2/18 drafts posted !!

and anon i know this isnt exactly what u wanted but i still hope u enjoy!!

#bill kaulitz #taking requests #tokio hotel #bill kaulitz is so hot #modern bill kaulitz #tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz smut #georg listing #tokio hotel smut #smut #georg listing is my man #georg listing smut #gustav schäfer #gustav schafer smut #gustav schafer x reader #gustav schaefer x you #bill kaulitz cutie patootie #sub bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz fluff #tom kaulitz x reader smut #tom kaulitz fluff #tom kaulitz icons #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz imagines #tom kaulitz is my daddy

[fandomwritingbit]

Sweet Girl pt.5

dbf/William Afton x (fem) virgin/reader

pt.1 - here. pt.2 - here. pt.3 - here. pt.4 - here.

Synop: Bored of the lack of contact you and William decide to bring wanking to the 21st century.

Warnings: Smut, masturbation, obsessive behaviour/thoughts for the both of you, corruption, coercion. Virgin reader.

A/n: MATES, MATES, I FUCKING WROTE SOMMET. This is not a drill, I wrote something after weeks of nada and it's... well, it's mediocre. But it's something! This was not the part 5 I had planned but rather a dirty thought that ran away with me that I hope reads half decently.

Is this fuck proofread lmao, soz for any errors I'll try to fix them later on x

You wake very confused, squinting in the light from your bedroom window that was much too bright for 8 in the morning, so you lift yourself from your sheets to check your phone: 9:30. You’ve overslept. Siting up properly you glace at your side table clock through sleepy eyes, needing to confirm the reality of the time, you set an alarm, what the fuck? You have plans today that are now going to have to be pushed up. 

You’re up like a whirlwind, messaging the friend you’re supposed to be having breakfast with that it’s now going to have to be a lunch, a late lunch ideally. Surprisingly they’re not too put out, they must be running late themselves. Crisis averted, you head downstairs to get yourself some coffee which will hopefully combat the awful feeling of having screwed your whole day up already. To be fair, it’s about time something like this happened to you, life’s been too easy for too long. Well, baring the odd relationship with your father’s friend, of course. 

Not wanting to tackle the coffee machine, which you swear is as old as you, if not older, you go for coffee granules and the kettle. A simple man’s brew, and that’s certainly how you feel today. You hadn’t bothered with dressing or throwing a dressing gown on, it’s a warm enough morning that you can stand in the kitchen in your pyjama shorts and vest without shivering, the only cold you feel is your bare feet on the tile. 

Your kettle clicks and you set about making your cup, ignoring the squeak of the backdoor  opening, you’ll greet whichever parent it is when they greet you, if the interaction can be delayed it’s for the best. You pour your water, but the sudden and crisp sound of a wolf whistle makes you overspill onto the counter. Sliding your phone out the way of the spillage, you turn to see the sniggering face of William and your heart manages to soar and sink at the same time, something only this man is able to do. 

Your annoyed expression melts into a flush, you know exactly why he whistled and you cross your arms over your chest accordingly, hard up to do anything about the shorts position high up your thighs. 

“Sorry,” He says without any conviction, still grinning as the coffee begins to drip off the edge of the worktop. Adding slyly, “You wouldn’t mind making me one, would you?”

You neglect to answer, going for an embarrassed, “What are you doing here?” instead. The man’s been in your kitchen for less than a minute and you already feel like you shouldn’t be here, for your own protection. Last time springs to your mind, involuntarily quickening your heart rate. He’d caught you off guard then too, then used you up and wrung you out, and you loved every second of it. You hate him for that, and the way your pussy seems to know when he’s in the room, it’s not fair. 

“Clearing out the garage with you dad.” He presents his palms in his own defence, the smug look of him shows his pride at begging her legitimately. “He told me you were out.” It’s phrased like a question, again making you feel like a trespasser in your own home.

“I’m supposed to be.” You explain without detail, averting your gaze from his and instantly remembering the mess on the counter, and now the floor. 

“Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes. Especially in that.” He laughs meanly, making you frown. You look pretty all annoyed at him, the furrow of your brown not doing anything to hide the heat on your face from the invasive way his eyes drink you in. And as if that wasn’t far enough he steps forward, sliding his hand over the silky fabric coating your hip. “Almost as revealing as that pretty little bikini.” Your back hits the surface behind you, he has a knack for cornering you, but you suppose it’s not exactly herding cats if the prey doesn’t want to run away. 

The comment hits home though and you remember exactly how easy it was for him to move that garment aside and- 

You’re pulled from that thought as his hand slides further, over your hip to your arse. “Stop.” You say a little breathless, not liking how he just grins at the word. “...My dad could walk in.”

“That didn’t stop you last time.” His tone is mocking, riddled with amusement at how you can’t seem to refuse him. 

“That was stupid… You make me stupid.” You mutter, pushing his hand away and trying to ignore how affected you feel already. “You need to stop.” You affirm, holding your voice steady to prevent the whine that threatened to accompany it. 

William leans closer to you, a mean joy practically emanating from him when your breath hitches. He speaks lowly, a gleeful edge warming you for him and doing everything possible to add to that stupidity “Are you going to make me?”

You just look up at him, your chest rising quickly less than half an inch from his. “...Yes.” You finally manage, nerves and need in your core making you hesitant. Your eyes are wide in wait for response, and the man holds firm just long enough that you panic. He reaches behind you for something before obeying your word, you realise sharpish that he’s plucked your phone from the countertop. 

Trying to take it back fails when he catches your wrist and flicks you away. You’re whining like a child, unable to help the discomfort flooding your veins at him holding something so personal. “William, give it back. What are you-” Your words die when he simply holds the phone in front of you and you hear the subtle click of your face ID unlocking it. 

You watch angrily as he steps away with the device, internally fighting the urge to try and take it back by force. 

He glances at your outrage, stoking it with, “You must have some dirty secrets on here to protest so much.” Shaking his head, he makes you wait whilst he does whatever he nicked your phone to do. Chuckling as he has to manoeuvre the screen from your sight when you try to at least see what he’s doing. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m giving you my number… You don’t want to entertain me now, then you can later.” 

You find yourself nodding when he hands you the phone back. 

~

Your day is spent, lunch and coffee with your mate over and done with, dinner with your parents finished. So you slip away to bed with your phone clutched to your chest, which is tight with forbidden excitement. Halfway through the day your checking of messages was fruitful, with one from William telling you that you’re going to ‘entertain him’ at 11pm tonight, and despite your naivety you know exactly what that means. 

The only way to combat your nerves is preparation so you pick out a matching bra and knickers set, light pink and lacy, you know he’s going to like them, perhaps too much if anything. Then a white nightdress, just see-through enough to give a hint as to the underwear underneath. 

Then it’s propping your phone up with a pillow and sitting cross-legged on your bed, checking to see it the view will be good, and it certainly will. From there, all you do is wait, your foot absentmindedly tapping away with the excess excitement, you’re aroused at the thought of it. A dirty video call with a bloke older than your dad, it’s everything you’re not supposed to do, a bad idea all around, but that just makes your panties that bit wetter. 

He’s a little late, but the very moment he calls you answer, not even waiting for a ring. It makes him smirk, such a sweet thing, ready for him, no doubt waiting for him. Fuck, if he was twenty years younger he’d scale the window and see it in person. 

You know you’ve given your want away by his sly expression, and he teases you by saying, “Eager, huh?” 

You pout, now hating all the effort you went to and trying to explain it away. “Well, I was expecting-I knew you were going to-” 

Somehow, even through your tiny phone screen he has enough presence to be able to cut you off. “It’s a good thing.” He pauses before adding with a snicker, “I doubt you’re as eager as me.” He shifts as he says that and your heart skips a beat at the thought of him touching himself already. It’s a power only he has ever given you, to know just how mental you make him and that power makes your core tighten. 

“Now, sweet thing.” There’s a nonchalance to his words that contradict the fact he’s palming himself over his boxers, he can’t help it, he can see the strap of your bra peeking out and the curve of your hips suggested by your nightie. It doesn’t pass him by that he’s fucking pathetic. “Have you got headphones, or do I have to keep my voice down?” 

You hadn’t thought of that, but you’re glad he did when you think how often you hear your parents tv through the wall. So you reach to your bedside drawer to retrieve your headphones, well aware that he’s watching you and trying to catch sight of whatever he can. And after a moment you plug them in and pop them in your ears, flushing when you realise that the sound feels a lot more intimate now. Maybe he knew that. 

“God you drive me crazy with all the tiny fucking clothes you wear.” He’s laughing but you know he’s not joking. You’re not in a position to laugh, how exactly can you tell him that he drives you crazy with everything he fucking does. From the tensing of his jaw to the delirious sensation of his voice on your skin. All of it has your body begging for anything he’s willing to give you, regardless of what your mind thinks. 

You can’t prevent a small smile on your lips though, “I don’t do it on purpose.” Even as you say it you know it’s a lie, you didn’t do it on purpose at first, now though, you want him to see you. 

“Don’t fucking lie to me, sweetheart.” He knows you better than that. You giggle, it should be illegal for him to read your mind that easily. “I’d wager under that nightie you’re wearing something nice for me. Like a gift to be unwrapped.” The look on your face says it all, when you bite your lip like that he wants to bite it for you. “Am I right?” 

You can hardly look at your screen, but you nod, barely able to sit still. 

“Fuck, let me see.” Something about how he’s speaking now is very telling and you revel in the feeling for a moment before shifting to sit on your feet. 

“Okay.” You sound so small and quiet you can hardly hear it over that arousal in your blood. Your fingers hook under the bottom of your nightdress, hesitant to begin the process and your eyes flick to the screen. 

You catch his gaze and he smirks, “Come on, you know I’d do it for you if I could.” That you are certain of, sometimes there’s such hunger in his eyes you think he’s a breath away from ripping the fabric off you. 

You do as asked, your panties straps revealed high on your hips guiding the sight up your stomach,then to the thin lace hardly covering your breasts. You were right, he does like it. Much too much. 

“God, you are like a fucking present.” You grin at that, watching the hint of movement you can see towards the bottom of the screen, and you core pangs with the knowledge of what he’s doing. Now sitting on your feet, you press your heel between your legs and jump at the jolt of stimulation it brings. 

Your lip is between your teeth again as you debate whether you’re brave enough to ask for what you want. “...Show me.” You manage in a surge of voice, you wish you didn’t sound as shy as you do. 

You hear William’s scoff of disbelief, he hadn’t expected you to ask that but he supposes it’s only fair. “Yeah?” 

You nod, watching eagerly as he moves a hand to change the angle of your view. The sight stirs you immensely, his boxers pulled down enough to let his cock free, he held it, touching himself at a slow pace. You rake the image for what you can see, his shirt pulled up to let you see the trail of dark hair that leads down to his length. A crazy part of you burns to press your nose against his trail, curiosity, or something dirtier you don’t know, but you know he’d let you if you asked. 

It’s with near fascination you watch his stroke himself, not noticing how you’ve begun grinding your pussy against your heel, your knickers are clinging to your slick but all shame is lost. 

“I didn’t expect you to want to see.” He sniggers, you recognise the thickness of his voice, remembering the pride in your core when you took him in your mouth, the heavy breathing of someone clinging on to their self restraint by the tips of their fingers. There’s precum on his tip smeared by each rise of his fist, it’s a dirty feeling and if you were in his reach he’d have it resting pretty on your tongue. 

Soon your movement isn’t enough anymore, your heat whines for better friction, the attention on your clit that he does just right. It’s written in your posture and the pinch of frustration between your brows. 

William’s voice affirms your need. “You can touch yourself, lovely. Don’t have to wait to be told.” 

“I know.” You reply quickly, embarrassed at how easy he’d jumped to that conclusion. If you were harder to read maybe he wouldn't have such a hold on you. 

“Or do you want me to ask?” There it is again, that mocking that shouldn’t speak directly to your slick, it’s condescending but you know in your heart that he knows better. You open your mouth to protest the teasing but you have no chance to. “Come on, show me how you play late at night, how you give yourself what you need.” He wants to seem like he’s humouring you but right now, with his cock in his hand, he’d beg to see just how you touch your perfect cunt.   

You’re doing it, shifting your position so you’re sitting properly, legs raised to let you trace over your bundle of nerves. The fabric of your panties quickly proves irritating, so you hurry to take them off, glancing repeatedly at the view on screen, dying to match the rhythm of him stroking himself, not wanting to miss anything. At the sight of your pussy bare for him, knickers discarded, he hisses through his teeth; now that is the kind of thing that gets a bloke in serious trouble.

“And the rest.” He adds, and you’re so lost in your new-found touch it takes you a moment to realise what he’s referring to, when you do you push the bra straps from your shoulders, shimmying the garment down so that your chest is free. Your nipples are hard from your excitement, all parts of you aware of the growing need in your core, begging for the release your touch promises. It should be familiar but with William’s eyes on you it takes you time to remember what you like. 

You rub your clit, the cues from your body calling for you to press your fingers inside your hole. You’re unable to reach like he does, but it’s enough to bring your end into sight and a soft moan from your lips. 

He’s chuckling watching how weak you become, like he’s not moving faster with the taste of release on his tongue. It takes a lot for him to ask the question burning in his head, he already knows the answer but hearing it from you is going to be delicious. “Tell me, what you think about, when you play with yourself, sweet thing.” The words are stilted with his involuntarily quickening pace, he’s close and it’s fucking stupid how much he needs to cum. 

“You.” You say instantly, voice cracking. Your head between my legs, fingers hooking inside, teeth on my neck as you line your cock up between my legs. You haven’t the coherent thought process to say that, it’s flicking images of past imaginings, you shouldn’t want to give yourself to this man as much as you do. 

William grunts, speaking through gritted teeth to try and remain somewhat controlled, though there’s nothing controlled about his frantic movement, nor yours. “You’re so fucking lucky I’m not in there with you.” 

It’s not a threat, you’ve seen the size of him, you’ve been delirious from just his fingers, but you want it. You want him in there with you. You want it all. 

He loses it at your wide eyed look, fucking his fist ‘til his cum is dripping down his abdomen.  You're not far yourself from the view alone, but you can hear his breathing, the groan right as he touches the peak. And your walls clamp around your fingers in stuttering waves of climax, you shiver with it, your legs unwillingly pressing together. You have to bite the inside of your cheeks to keep any noise leaving you, a startled thought of discovery hitting you out of nowhere. 

“Fucking hell.” His voice makes you regain your senses, he’s chuckling and the hand not coated in release slips out of shot to rub the bridge of his nose; why is it so much better when a pretty thing like you is watching? 

“William?” You’re shaky as you speak, weighing up what you want to ask, deciding that closed mouths don’t get fed. In response he tilts the camera up so you can see he’s listening, and you can’t help but hit screenshot at the sight of him so dishevelled. “Next time… I want you to be here with me.” 

He laughs, “Anything you want, princess. I mean it.”

#fnaf #william afton #william afton x reader #william afton smut #fnaf smut #william afton x you #fnaf william afton #fnaf movie #steve raglan x reader #steve raglan x you

[kyojurismo]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟔 : 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. +18 nsfw, 1.9k words, age difference (reader is in her 20s, satoru is in his 30s), top!satoru, dub-con, fingering, nipple play, degradation, not proofread + pls notify me if there’s something else to tag, i’ll fix it asap.

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. hello dear readers. i know it took me a whole month to start posting something for my kinktober event, but life (and my depression) got in the way, so i wasn’t able to fully dedicate myself to writing (i take this opportunity to also remind y’all that 1. i do it as a hobby and 2. eng is not my first language). starting w day 6 bc i suddenly got the desire to write for satoru lol. well, that’s all from me now, i hope you guys will enjoy and please be sure to read the tags carefully !! ♡

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.

satoru gojo was a close friend to your father, they worked together and sometimes he would invite satoru for dinner. he was charming and funny, so of course it never disturbed you. he also looked incredibly handsome, with those beautiful light blue eyes and white hair.

he looked so sad when you mentioned you were gonna move out for college, saying that he liked your young presence and your sense of humour, especially how you two often ended up talking about scary movies — a passion you two had in common.

you recently got back home, your father’s birthday was getting closer and you wanted to organise something to celebrate it, as long as help him decorate the house for halloween.

you weren’t exactly a fan of halloween costumes, more like you enjoyed the atmosphere and watching others dressing up as something.

you finished preparing yourself a snack when your phone started ringing, your father’s name appeared on screen.

“hey dad!”

“i’m gonna get home late tonight, i’m sorry baby. gotta catch up to some work, but we can watch the movie once i’m back if you’re not sleeping already. how does it sound?”

you took a couple of seconds to reply, because well — you’ve been looking forward to it for days, but you also knew that his job was important and that he couldn’t really left early because ‘he has some movie to watch’.

“yeah, sounds good. i’ll try my best to stay awake.”

“great! i asked satoru to pass by and check on you. i think he’ll bring something to eat too.”

“dad… i’m not fourteen, i don’t need a babysitter.”

“i know, i know. he just offered since it’s his day off.”

“whatever. see ya later.”

you hung up the phone and rolled your eyes. it was obvious your dad asked him to come over and check on you, but you didn’t mind it that much. he would leave quickly and you would end up having the rest of the evening all for yourself.

at least, that what you thought.

“i’m so surprised to see you,” you opened the door, sarcasm clear in your voice. you didn’t expect to see satoru dressed up as none other than the slender man. you chuckled, checking the mask a bit closer. “wow. you really got into it, huh?” satoru didn’t answer at first, playing the part before you rolled your eyes and walked back into the kitchen, leaving him there.

you heard the door closing a couple of seconds later, while grabbing your sandwich. satoru took off the mask and sighed deeply, glancing around the place. “what if it wasn’t me?” he sounded serious, concerned about your careless behaviour. “my father told me you were coming over to check on me, mr. babysitter.”

he rolled his eyes and put the bag with your food on the kitchen island, before looking at you. “what are you up to tonight?” he casually asked, watching you eating your sandwich in silence. you shrugged before meeting his eyes. “i’m gonna read or watch something, waiting for my dad to come home. what about you?” you smiled innocently, as if you didn’t have in plan to do a marathon of your favourite horror movies.

“dunno. my friend ditched me, so i’m all alone in this frightening night,” he pouted before smirking at your change of expression. “i’m talking about suguru, not your father.”

you rolled your eyes and pretended to be offended. you finished eating your sandwich and put the plate away. “well? are you leaving?” you asked him, making him gasp dramatically. “kids today are so poorly mannered! is this the right way to treat an old man?”

“you’re not that old, that’s also why i don’t get it how you became my father’s best friend in the first place,” satoru was around thirty years old, like ten years younger than your father. “i’m everyone’s favorite person,” he winked and you shook your head, chuckling. “you’re not, really.”

satoru looked offended and followed you into the living room, waiting for an apology. he got none. “whatever. can i stay over? maybe we can watch something together,” he asked you, genuinely interested in doing so. you thought about his offer, knowing that it wouldn’t hurt to have some company. “hm, okay. but i’m choosing,” you glanced at him while sitting down on the couch. “yeah, sure. just pick something scary.”

halfway through the movie, satoru started shifting towards you, making it look casual. you bit your inner cheek as your leg touched his, stiffening a little.

“scared?” he murmured during a moment of silence, you shook your head. “hm,” he licked his lips before looking at you, noticing how you were growing nervous.

in reality, he had been looking at you differently since earlier. you felt strange about it, but you tried to ignore it for your own good. maybe he just wanted to mess with you a little like he would usually do.

one of his hand reached your leg and started caressing your clothed thigh, you shivered and quickly glanced down at it as your heart skipped a beat. your attention was caught by the size of his hand, before you slowly looked at his face. satoru’s eyes were glued to the tv, causing you to turn towards it a bit too quickly.

were you misreading the whole situation or … ?

“satoru,” you gathered some courage to call him. “what is it?” his voice sounded deeper and you gulped louder than expected, causing a smirk to appear on his face. “what—” you gasped as his hand tightened its grip on your thigh before moving closer to your center. “hmm?” satoru finally turned to look at you, your heart pounding rapidly into your chest as he casually cupped your sex. you unconsciously clenched your thighs, trapping it between your legs.

“i’m sorry, this movie is becoming more and more boring,” he spoke casually, looking unbothered by the whole situation. he acted like he wasn’t touching your body at all.

your cheeks grew warmer, you tried to find the right words and ignore how it all was affecting your poor body. it was wrong, he was your father’s best friend and he was older than you. it was very wrong… right?

the way his hand was grinding on you caught your attention and you snapped out of it, grabbing his wrist to stop him. “we-we can’t do this… it’s wrong,” you murmured, pushing it away. “is it though? your body is telling me something else,” he chuckled and finally met your face. his gaze felt much more intimidating now, as he hungrily stared down at you.

you felt slick gathering in your underwear and you shifted uncomfortably on the couch, causing a low laugh to escape satoru’s lips. “now now, why lying?” he suddenly pulled you closer, sitting you on his lap. you could feel his erection right against your lower back, which caused your whole face to grow warmer.

“satoru, wait–” you tried to say something else before his hands pushed your legs apart, then his hands reached your chest and he grabbed your breasts, groping you experimentally. you bit back a moan, squirming under his touch. “sensitive, hm?” he went to pinch your nipples, playing with your boobs as he liked.

a sparkle of excitement filled your guts, even though a part of you knew it wasn’t right, some other was trying to convince you to give in and let him touch you. he was an experienced man for sure, different from other college students. a part of you was also craving some well deserved release. you tilted your head back, closing your eyes. you jumped as his hands slapped your thighs, making you shiver and moan softly.

“i wanna hear every sound coming from your little mouth, you got that little slut?” satoru spoke right into your ear as one of his hands slipped under your shirt while the other sneaked into your leggings, starting to caress your clothed clit. his hands were cold compared to your actual body temperature, and that caused another shiver to run down your body.

“this is wrong,” you whispered, more for yourself. he smirked and rubbed your clit faster, his hand finding a way to slip under your bra and finally touch your hardened nipple. your will to fight the moans caused by the pleasure provided by his skilled hands left your body and you finally gave in.

you moaned as satoru pushed two fingers into your wet channel, taking advantage of how much wet you were already. his long fingers were able to reach spots you couldn’t, which made your stomach turn as whimpers escaped your parted lips. “you’re this wet for your father’s friend, hm? and those sounds, that some real slutty behaviour,” satoru’s tone was completely different from before, he kept speaking — degrading, you while his fingers worked inside your cunt, thrusting deeply and hitting the perfect spot to make your toes curl and cause your back to arch, unconsciously pushing your chest into his hand. “what are you, some college whore now?” his lips kissed right under your ear, biting your neck softly before licking your shivering skin.

“n-no,” you tried to argue back, your hand grabbed his wrist desperately as you grew close to your climax. “no? then why are you this wet? you enjoy getting manhandled and fucked, huh?” satoru’s movements never faltered. “the way you’re clenching on my fingers tells me you like being degraded too.”

you were too embarrassed to reply to any of his accusations, but also too focused on the incoming orgasm. you tried to clench your thighs together as your pussy spasmed around his fingers, gushing hard as you finally came while crying his name.

you sobbed when his thumb massaged your pulsing clit, making you jolt in his lap and almost hitting his chin with your head. he chuckled at your reaction, deciding to play with you for a couple of seconds more before finally leaving your poor pussy alone.

as his hands finally resurfaced from inside your clothes, you clearly saw him licking his fingers clean, groaning softly at the taste. he seemed satisfied even though you were the only one who had the privilege to have an orgasm that night.

“well, little star,” satoru moved your body off of him and placed you back in your previous position, you were still a bit dizzy from what just happened. “time to go,” he got up and stretched, before turning to look at you. “you should change yourself, hm?” he glanced at your ruined leggings before cupping your cheek with his large palm, caressing your warm skin. “i’m proud of my little slut,” he murmured before tracing your lips with his thumb, smirking at you. “goodnight,” he then patted your head and walked towards the main door, opening and closing it in a swift motion. he left as if nothing happened, he didn’t asked if you enjoyed it or not — your cunt sure did. your head was filled with too many thoughts at once. it was alright, it was wrong, it felt good, he knows how to treat a woman, he’s an asshole, it was so hot.

then one single thought filled your mind, causing you to fall back against the cushion of the couch. you found yourself staring at some random point in front of you.

satoru gojo, one of your father’s best friends, made you cum with his fingers… and it felt a bit too good.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @naomi-nana @euphiroo @eynnwwyjth @titantears @plast3c @katsuslover

#🩶 — kinktober 23 !! #📂 — writing !! #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo drabble #satoru gojo blurb #satoru gojo one shot #satoru gojo imagine #satoru gojo fanfic #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen smut

[olive-fics]

Maybe you could write abt older abby thats like a cowboy and her and the reader live together and their like happy n domestic?!

-Sure! Love this idea hehe (not proofread.. like usual)

Abby leaned against the wooden fence, her gaze fixed on the hills that stretched out before her. The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden hue across the expanse of the farmland. She took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of hay and the sweet aroma of wildflowers. A toothpick sat between her teeth as she wiped small beads of sweat from her forehead onto her pants.

The sound of your voice carried from the barn, breaking the silence calling out that supper was ready. Abby pushed herself away from the fence, her worn boots kicking up a small cloud of dust as she walked towards the homestead.

Abby trudged up the porch steps, her boots heavy with the day's accumulated dirt, making sure to not track any more grime into the house. She had dirt, oil, and who knows what else on her hands from the farm work she had been doing.

"In the kitchen Abs!" You called out to her with a giggle.

You stood in the kitchen, your hand, steady and practiced, tapped a spatula against the sizzling pan of bacon, releasing a tantalizing symphony of sizzles and pops. Upon the wooden countertop, golden-brown biscuits, along with a pot simmered with corn and a plate of porkchops.

Abby walked in and leaned on the doorframe to the kitchen, she was dirty and smelled like the barn, her baby hairs stuck to her sweaty forehead and neck..

"Well, aren't you a dirty lady?" you laughed, a playful glint in your eyes as you couldn't resist teasing her. You grabbed a damp rag from the sink, moving closer to where she stood. With a gentle touch, you began helping her wash away the grime from her face.

"I can do it myself, pumpkin," Abby giggled, her voice filled with affection. She leaned down and planted a soft, tender kiss onto your forehead. Her smile held a mixture of playfulness and gratitude, as she tried to keep her dirty hands away from your clean clothes and body.

"Baby it looks too good.. I can't wait to eat." Abby murmured into your ear. "I'll fix you a plate, hon. Go sit," you insisted with a warm smile, your voice filled with care and affection. You leaned in to plant a soft, lingering kiss on her lips before she could protest.

With the plate of delicious food in one hand and a steaming cup of coffee in the other, you walked over to the table and set everything down. As Abby began to eat, you settled into your own seat across from her, your gaze fixed on her.

"It's great, Y/N. I love it like always." Abby giggled, her mouth muffled from the food, she said followed by a genuine smile.

"Good- I know how hard you've been working and I just wanted to make sure-"

"No need to explain yourself okay?" Abby put her hand on yours rubbing it gently. "It's wonderful my love."

You smiled and nodded.

♡

Later that night you snuggled next to Abby on the couch reading a book together, "Sense and Sensibility" -Jane Austen. Abby's hums were enough to make anyone drowsy, it was like a drug to you..slowly making your eyes heavier...

"Getting sleepy baby girl..?" Abby would murmur so she didn't wake you.. Gently petting your hair and caressing your cheek, she looked down at you and noticed you were out. Her lips pulling into a tender smile..She gently bookmarked the page in the book.

"alright then..bed time it is." She carefully lifted you into her arms, up the stairs, right into bed where she too would tuck you in and cuddle right behind you holding you close.

"Goodnight, my love."

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

hehe sorry for my break I've had no motivation to do anything. :,) I really like this prompt and I honestly wanna write more on it.. IDK YOU GUYS LMK!!!!! :))

ALSO. TYSM FOR 180 FOLLOWERS?? HELLO? WHERE DID U GUYS COME FROM LOL. I LOVE U ALL.

ok, peace!!

#tlou fic #fanfic #lesbian #wlw #tlou fanfiction #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #abby anderson fluff #headcanons #headcanon #im so gay #cowgirl #cowboy #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #sfw interaction only #sfw little community

[beefboyandbabygirl]

Judas in the Window (18+)

pairing: priest(apprentice)!chan x fem!collegestudent!reader

genre: ANGST ANGST and smut (mdni), childhood best friends to..?

description: you return home from college, after not seeing your old town for three years. your childhood best friend has been waiting for you.

warnings: no. genuinely so sad. religious guilt, blasphemy ig, slutshaming, degradation (f. receiving), praise (f. receiving), desperation, fingering (f. receiving), humiliation, unprotected sex (do not do this shit), brief breeding kink, mentions of past unhappiness, reader has beef with her old self fr, alcohol consumption, pet names (darling, baby, some more i dont recall), LOTS of biblical references, i warned you this is incredibly sad and wether it's a good ending is certainly debatable, reader has both her parents (if u dont, same, just imagine the dad as adam sandler and the mom as gwendoline christie), the dad is the best character x

quotes from my proofreader: "i have a new pair of panties at the ready", "im horny and angry, some say hangry", "AAAAAA"

wordcount: 8.3k

a/n: it is 2:30 am. my proofreader is asleep and i might go crazy if i dont post this now, so if there are any mistakes in the last part i am sorry, ill fix it later lmao

Your room hasn’t changed a bit.

You’re not sure why the sight knocks the wind out of you. You suppose you’d thought your parents might do something with it - maybe give your dad a “man cave” or whatever other pained, heteronormative solution to hating each other. But it’s the same exact thing. Your bed, horrible orange wood, pink princess sheets, and your desk right beside you where you stand in the doorway, all cluttered with glitter pens and marker sets and a small mirror. 

“Isn’t this great, honey?” your mom squeals, old hands squeezing your shoulders. It takes you a second to reply. You’re not even sure you want to step inside the room. “Yeah, yeah, it’s great, mom.” 

“I’m getting dinner ready, you just settle yourself in!” she says, practically vibrating at your presence. She’s so happy, it jabs at your stomach with guilt, that you can’t even bring yourself to enter. You watch her disappear down the stairs, making a funny face when she catches your eye. You half-smile tiredly. Then you’re looking at it again.

It’s like a totally closed off time capsule. Your fingers play with the doorframe, looking at the stains in the carpet, that you vividly remember creating as a clumsy child. You see the stickers on your closet-door, and the faint outline of the stickers you’d taken down. You see toys, whose names you remember, you see terrible drawings over your bed, hung with glitter tape, and you see yourself. The you that you were certain you’d stuck in the dirt and buried. The one you’d worked over-over-overtime to never see again. She was somehow alive and well in this room. A part of you roamed with a horde of anxiety, birthed by the thought that once you entered, you and her would fuse together, and all the flaws you’d had would be reignited, and you would be miserable again.

“You not going in, champ?” you jump at your father’s voice behind you. You turn to see him exiting your parents’ bedroom, taking heavy, loggy steps towards the staircase. You shake your head: “No, I am, it’s just..” you pause and turn back to the room, letting out a heavy sigh. “It’s weird.” 

Your father pauses. He has his reading glasses pushed all the way down to the tip of his nose, so he leans his head back and squints to study you. “Well- well- well, why don’t you just try out for a bit, champ, and if you don’t like it, Uh, well, we’ll situate you on the couch. How’s- how’s that sound?” 

You smile softly. “Sure.” 

“Alright, champ,” he pats your back and finally starts his descent down the stairs. 

You nod to yourself and exhale deeply, face now turned back to the super menacing not-at-all-menacing room before you. Your fears are deeply irrational. You wouldn’t just revert back to your old self. Once you’re half believing it, you finally break the barrier, and take a step inside. 

It’s not so bad after all. Everything is very still. Dust kicked up from your presence slows down around you. You’re standing under the overhead lamp, and it’s not that bad. Not so bad. You drop your duffel bag and sit down on your bed. 

You feel a lot bigger, sitting with bent knees in the plush duvet. You recognize that you can’t be that much bigger than when you last sat here, 18 years old, heading off to college in the big city. And this was the kind of town where neighbors a dozen houses over came to see you off, waving at you with big smiles on their faces, an american flag hoisted up to the blue sky. You remember the grins stretched on their faces, and how you’d been panicked to start the ignition on the car. They’d looked like they were made of wax.

Movement flashes in your peripheral. You turn your head, brushing hair out of the way. The movement is coming from the crack in the curtains. Like Moses parting the red sea, your fingers delicately brush the flimsy fabrics away. You know exactly what - who - you’re about to see. Your heart presses, red and wet, into your throat. 

Chan.

He’s there in the window directly across from yours. You almost don’t recognize him at first. He’s shirtless, pacing around and picking things off the floor, and, God, he’d gotten so big. His arms are so shapely and firm and his stomach is toned and when he turns his back to you, you see how it ripples with muscle, and your mouth is drooping open in shock. 

This is Chan, you try to remember (memories flit of him in his dad’s baseball caps, him on the playground, or on the sandy paths that fade out from the roads on the outskirts of town), but grounding yourself in the memories of him as a kid only serves to hurt you. No, you decide, eyeing his naked torso through the glass, better remember him like this. Like an adult who has faults and wrongs, not an innocent child that you abandon in your haste to grow up. 

He’s looking at you. Suddenly, he’s fucking looking at you. For a moment it seems like he’s confused, maybe fighting with the danger of recognizing you as a real, actual person in the window. Then his eyes are softened and he’s hunched over the paneled window, face split in half as he stares back at you. He used to fit so easily in the frame of that window - now you watch his shoulders press against the framework, unable to squeeze in. 

Your cheeks are burning when you squeeze your eyes shut and smile apologetically. Your childhood best friend who you hadn’t seen in three years had just caught you staring at his fucking abs through his window. You fear he’ll take offense, especially considering how you’d left things off with him, but when you open your eyes, he’s grinning softly and shaking his head. 

He walks away from the small window, and you take this as your cue to leave as well. You fall back on the bed and groan pathetically, body jittery with embarrassment. 

“Y/n, sweetheart! Dinner now!” your mom caws from the floor beneath you and you feel 16 again. This was what you didn’t want. All the power you had accumulated was slipping through your fingers by the minute. 

It’s just five days, you remind yourself. Just five, measly days.

“Coming, mom!”  _____________________________

The fucking bell tower is going. Over and over again and it shouldn’t be this loud, you’re not that close to the church, but it is. 

You lie flat on your back in the smoldering dark, completely still. It’s so loud it feels like it’s coming from inside your head. Like the curved, rusted sides of it are bashing against your skull. You don’t understand how anyone could sleep through this. You don’t understand how Chan could stay here all these years. Maybe that’s just because you couldn’t see yourself here.

You don’t want to think about Chan anymore, but for whatever reason - you can’t decide if it was seeing him (so manly) so suddenly, or if it’s the ever-ringing bell in the distance, like a marker of the apocalypse - he won’t leave your mind tonight. Part of you understood that what had happened with you and Chan was natural, and not particularly anyone’s fault. So why did you still carry the heavy burden of guilt? Guilt that pinched at your nerve endings like the delicate tunes in a children’s music box.

You and Chan had met as children in church. It didn’t take long for you to be best friends. You’d sit next to each other on the neatly lined benches during sermon, then you’d tumble in the grass outside, and then you’d go to his house and play until dinner, after which you’d see each other again, talking from window to window. You spent very nearly every moment with him.

Then you grew apart.

It was a slow death. Seeing each other became a sort of horrific reminder that it was ending, no longer bound by church or friendship, but a mutual understanding. There’d be a sort of solemn silence whenever you locked eyes. Is this the last time? You’d wonder, and the longer it went on, the more you started to wish that it was.

And then it was. 

It was your fault. You were 13 and suddenly you were wearing makeup and your dresses were getting shorter, and you wished you were much older than you were. You started forgetting the principles they’d taught you in church. Or maybe you’d never really learnt it, only tolerated it for Chan. But years passed and by the time you were sixteen, you were being kissed and groped at parties and you were having sex in cars and smearing your lipstick on the rims of shot glasses. 

And Chan was.. Well, Chan. Chan was a skinny, virgin christian. And you liked him, but suddenly there wasn’t much to talk about. From one day to the next, all discussable topics evaporated in your hand, and talking to Chan became a stumbling, bumbling mess. 

After that you were just…. Gone. 18 years old disappearing down the dirt roads in the 2009 Toyota Tacoma, that you’d gotten for your sweet sixteen. Chan was standing on the roadside that day, but he wasn’t sure you saw him. Your wheels kicked up dust and that was all you left behind. A cloud of sand for him to grab at, looking lost in between your tire tracks. At that moment it felt like those last years were two seconds. You just slipped right out of his hands. 

Lying in bed and your heart is so heavy. Maybe it isn’t Chan, you conclude. Maybe it’s what he represented. The face of the church; the face of goodness, of purity; the face of the life you deselected. 

The cry of the bell tower becomes a song in the night. You fall asleep in the devil’s hour. _____________________________

The following day you’re reexploring. The air is dry and the sun beating down on your shoulders. You’re walking through the suburbs and then later the small town square made up of mostly parking lots. You feel peregrine, but trudging through on the pavement, it becomes clear you’re the only one who feels this way. 

Every citizen, every single one of them - in polos, in flower-print dresses, in sandals, in sunglasses - stops you to welcome you back home. They’re shaking your shoulders and they recognize you and can tell you your name and your age, and they say that it’s good you found your way back. Every interaction leaves you more depressed than the last. You’re ducking your head, crumpled up like an unsent love letter. 

Your steps are heavy, your own sandals dragging into the uneven tiles of the square. Then you’re lifting your head from the ground, and your feet have betrayed you. 

You’re standing in the opening to another street of storefronts, and 5 rows of neatly planted trees down, the church sprouts from the earth like a stake. 

It’s not just any small town church. A few steps lead up to a plateau, supported by large, white beams. They may not be Roman, but they’re there, and they’re made of smooth concrete. The building itself is made of red brick, although the color varies and looks dappled. Each side of the church has two stained glass windows, which you remember from your childhood. The door, huge and oaken, ends in a point right beneath a round window, and the bell tower shoots up, a mighty cross at its peak. 

You’re left a little breathless at it. You don’t remember it being so menacing. But there’s also something beautiful about it. How it looks at you like it’ll kill you. And how blunt it is about it. You’re blinking at it and wondering how you got here. It’s as if something’s possessed you, because despite knowing better, you begin to take calm steps towards it, eyes transfixed and soulless. 

You’re walking into the courtyard, gravel underfoot, and then you’re traversing up the steps, fingers barely brushing over the railing. Idling forward, you’re opening the door. 

“And when Mary birthed the-” 

Crrrrreeeeeeeaaaaaaaaak!

Every head snaps towards you, as you’re cracking the door open, and the trance lifts from you. Oh, shit. Your gaze grazes over the stacked benches, smiling apologetically and bopping your head.

You clear your throat. “I’m-” 

You lock eyes with the priest, whose service you just interrupted, where he’s standing before the crowd, bible in hand.

It’s Chan. 

“I’m sorry,” you squeak, voice now much meeker, and you don’t even know what to do, so you just step inside and sit down on the nearest bench. Slowly (and with low scoffs) the sea of heads turn around. One pair of eyes don’t leave you though. Chan studies you for several seconds longer, searching for something in your eyes, but you’re looking away. You just want him to continue. He does.

This is crazy, you think, and you can hardly believe you’re hearing his voice say those words, and it’s him in the clerical shirt. You supposed it made sense. You supposed you understood. But actually you didn’t, not at all. Not when he was supposed to live and change and evolve and here he is years later, dedicating his life to the one and only thing he knows! 

You’re tuning out the rest of his talk, vaguely aware of how his eyes flit over to you a little too frequently. Soon enough you’re absently clasping your hands together in a prayer and then people are lining up to thank Chan for his stellar service. 

You watch them from your seat, debating whether or not to leave without talking to him. Leaving wasn’t a bad idea. You were only gonna be in town for a week more, surely, you could avoid him until then. 

But you know you won’t do that. You want to talk to Chan. You want to feel his hand in your own. Partially you felt like maybe you could save him from just being a decoration to this hellscape for the rest of his life. You’re not sure you could go on living your life, when you know he’s just back here - still here. 

So there you are, planted in the line and hoping to save him from some dull future, and he’s shaking hands and smiling, but you can see how he eyes you, coming up on the line. 

“Thank you, Chan,” you smile warmly, and his hand is grabbing yours and it’s so soft and so big. He’s smiling too. Then you’re coughing and correcting yourself: “Uh- Father. Chan.” 

He laughs at your sputtering, clapping your hand between his two: “Oh, thank you, sister.” Emphasizing with pursed lips and wide eyes. You laugh along a little, but it’s strained. 

His smile fades slowly, and his face relaxes. He wants to say more. His fingers are still pulling your hand to his, and you just keep shaking it, because if you stop, it’ll be weird. Officially. 

“Oh, do you two know each other?” A bobbed woman from behind you in line is purring, unfamiliar hand on your back, and she doesn’t wait for you to answer before she’s talking again: “So, how do you know each other?” 

“Childhood. Friends,” Chan stammers, almost looking at you for confirmation, and you’re nodding along when the woman “ah’s” and “ooh’s”. “Oh, that’s wonderful, you guys!” And then you’re listening to her talk about some trailer down in Cassandra, and how her brother is fixing it up with his old friend, but there’s water damage in the lining of the room, and it’ll mold if they’re not careful, and it’s such useless information, you’re wondering how you’ll ever forget it. 

“Mrs. Lark, uh, I think my,” he looks at you, lips pursed, “my friend here needs to go, so..” 

Mrs. Lark gasps, embarrassed: “Oh, I’m sorry, you’re right, I’m babbling,” and usually Chan would reassure her that she wasn’t, but he has more urgent matters on his hands. “Good day, Mrs. Lark!” he says and sends her off with a bright smile. There’s a few more people in line and Chan sighs a little. 

“Can you-” he’s a little sheepish, suddenly self conscious about the clergy shirt that grips his neck, “Can you wait? Here? Just until I’m done-” 

“Yeah,” you say. He smiles gratefully. 

Chatter continues behind you with a slight echo in the large room. You wait by one of the stained glass windows, arms around yourself as you stare up at it. Each and every window was a different biblical figure, made up of small shards of colored glass. You always found it strange, looking back, how your small town church had this grand artwork. The eyes of the window peer down at you.

“Judas,” Chan comments, planting himself beside you. His voice echoes slightly in the now empty church. The whole place is both too big and too small for the both of you. “It’s an interesting choice.” 

“What?” 

“Why you chose this window over any other,” Chan breathes, eyes darting down to you, and he’s looking at you very intensely. Then, it dissipates: “I’m also drawn to this one.” 

A pause.

“I wonder why they’d make this,” you quip, feeling small beside him. “I think whoever made this wanted all sides of Jesus’ story illustrated,” Chan says. You shrug. “If it were me, I wouldn’t.” 

Chan tilts his head to the side and looks at you again. Your cheeks burn, so you smile a little cheekily. “Was that not the right thing to say?” 

Chan’s smile is gentle and bemused - almost adoring. “There’s nothing you can say in here that is wrong.” 

“I don’t think that’s true,” you laugh and Chan follows along. “Oh, you don’t?” You’re both laughing together, glee filling the crevices of the holy place, while Judas eyes you from the window. Your laughter dies down again, and when the silence returns, your heart clenches nervously. There’s a beat. 

“You keep busy?” you ask and the two of you are now facing each other. He sighs and nods, looking around. “Yeah, yeah, I got a.. Like a church get-together thing in, like, two days. I’ll be.. Preaching."

“Preaching,” you repeat, smile a little too tight. You wish you could say he didn’t notice. “Big Mr. Priest..” 

He laughs: “Technically I’m a priest apprentice,” he says, arms crossing over his chest. You roll your eyes. “So humble.” 

“What about you? Keep busy?” 

“Yeah, college,” you sigh. “You done?” he asks and you shake your head. “I wish.” 

His expression softens until he’s frowning. You want to squirm under his gaze, only because he looks so sincere and worried and you haven’t seen each other in three years. “You look tired.” 

“That’s not-” you begin, covering the slight ache in your heart with a laugh, “I just- Couldn’t sleep last night.”

“I thought living in the big city had you sleeping like a rock when you got to our quiet town,” he teases with a half-smile.

You shake your head, looking upwards at the ceiling. “It was that bell tower, just ringing, all night.” You shrug. Chan’s brows furrow and he looks up as well, as if he’d be able to see it through the tile roof. 

“The…” he trails off, sounding lost, “The bell tower doesn’t ring at nig-” 

Beep! Beep!

“Shit- sorry!” you curse, when your phone goes off loudly. Chan stands still studying you, while you squint at your phone. “I think- I think I gotta go.” 

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he coughs, index finger rubbing over his taut knuckles. You’re pushing your phone into your back pocket again, when he reaches an arm out to you. “Uh-” he pulls back self-consciously, “Would you want to-.. Maybe, come to dinner at my place? Tomorrow?” 

You’re a little taken aback, looking at him with a softly open mouth for a moment. “Uh,” you fight back a wide smile, “Yeah, sure. I’d- I’d like that.” 

“Great,” Chan smiles too and nods. “Just- just at the house right next door, or?-”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s that one. Still,” Chan blushes breathlessly. You chuckle awkwardly. “Okay.” 

“Okay. See you then.”  _____________________________

You’re not sure why the prospect of having dinner with Chan has you so nervous. And it is just a dinner, you remind yourself, as you’re picking out your dress, just two friends catching up. After some 45 minute debate you pick out a pretty sundress.

You’d like to think there’s more to it than just the fact that Chan is suddenly very pretty and muscular. Maybe it’s the chance to make a wrong right. Maybe it’s to find out who this boy is, that was a key part of your life for so many years. Maybe you think you can change him.

Either way you’re just waiting for it all day, ignoring your dad trying to lure you out with trick shots from your garage. “HIYA!” he screams, throwing ping pong balls at your window all afternoon.

At 6:30 PM you’re standing at his door and hoping you don’t look too dolled up. His house also looks mostly identical to your memory of it. There’s something off about it though, and you study it momentarily, only to realize the front garden has overgrown. The grass comes up jagged and sharp, and the bushes bulge over the fence gate, brushing you when you waddle inside. You click the doorbell, wait a few seconds, and then begin to suspect that it didn’t work. Then you knock and you hear him fumbling around inside: “Coming!” 

He opens the door (with some struggle), and then you’re standing before each other. He’s so domestic, in a striped, brown sweater and dark blue jeans, and curly hair is framing his face like a crown. 

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

He gives you a once over, smiling shyly: “You look great.” 

“Thank you,” you bow a little, “you too.” 

Then he’s letting you inside and you’re kicking off your shoes haphazardly, while he fusses back to the kitchen. “I made bolognese, if you don’t mind!” he calls and when you enter into the living space, he’s stirring a pan vigorously. You giggle a little, smile falling at the sight of a cross on the wall behind you. “Uh, yeah, of course.” 

Slurping tomato-sauced pasta and drinking a half-expensive wine that Chan had bought, you two laugh together. You mostly talk about when you were kids, then he’s talking about joining the church and you’re talking about college. 

“Is it hard? Out there?” Chan slurs a little, both of you tipsy and warm from the wine, having moved to the couch after eating. Now, full and face burning hot, you’re looking at each other differently. Chan’s got one arm on the couch rest, the other swirling the wine in his glass. He’s smirking a little and you hate how hot he is.

“It’s.. Exciting,” you counter, a little confused at his tone. He's close enough to radiate warmth onto you, when his eyes dip down to your lips for a second. “Yeah. You like exciting,” he drinks down the rest of his wine and sets the glass on the couch table. The moon, that’s been slowly traversing the star-speckled sky, gives the glass a faint halo. Chan basks in the moonlight, half lit and half shadowed. 

“I do. I do like exciting,” you giggle dumbly, still unsure where he’s steering the conversation. Chan smiles adoringly, because there you are sitting all blushing and warm in a sundress on his couch. The warmth disappears from his eyes then. 

“Was it exciting to watch me undress?” 

Oh.

Shit. 

You almost spit out a half-drunken sip of wine, gulping it down painfully and shaking your head. You set the glass down. “Chan! I’m-” you’re scrambling, “I’m really, really sorry. I- I was just- It wasn’t about your body, I was thinking about-” 

“Shut up.” 

Your mouth falls agape at his tone, offended and caught off guard. He’s still beside you, eyes much sharper than you remember, much colder. “Stop treating me like I’m still a kid.” 

“Well, you haven’t changed much, Chan,” you scoff. 

“Yeah, that’s why you were looking at me through your fucking window,” he scoffs as well, “because I haven’t changed.” 

You sit in quiet disbelief, trying to stay mad when his face is so pretty and so close to yours, and his jaw is clenched and his cheeks are flushed from the wine. You’re deciding whether to spit back or diffuse the situation. “Look, I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m sorry.” 

The hand that was previously holding his glass lands on your knee. He leans in even further and you smell the sour air of wine on his breath. You shudder under his touch when he whispers: “I want you to be honest with me.” 

You’re looking up at him with wide eyes, heart beating in your chest like nails being knocked into wood. “Tell me what you want from Father Chan,” he muses, smirking slightly, while his thumb brushes back and forth on your knee. 

You’re completely out of breath and squeezing your thighs together, as slick begins to build up in your panties. “Come on,” he encourages, “Let it out. Tell Channie what you want.” 

“I want,” you’re shaking in humiliation, gaze cast onto the floor, “I want you to touch me.” 

“Come again?” he teases, grinning.

“Please touch me, Chan.” 

“There you go,” he mutters and finally gives in, hand brushing the skirt of your dress up your thighs, until your white, cotton panties are visible to him. The sight of you is so pornographic, he groans and dips his head into your neck. “Spread your legs for me, baby.” 

And you do, one of them drooping over his legs, while the other bends on the couch beside you. You’re already so worked up, because Chan is so beautiful and you never, ever thought you’d experience him like this. “Shh, shh, calm down, pretty girl,” he kisses your temple, as his fingers brush over your clothed core.

“Baby,” he tuts disapprovingly, “you’ve soaked through your panties.” 

You can only whine as his fingertips ghost along your dripping slit, and he’s nosing into your cheek like a big puppy. “‘M sorry,” you hiccup, and he grins and kisses your lips tenderly. “So polite for me.” 

He finally dips his hand into your panties, fingers rubbing circles into your pussy. You’re mewling and thrashing into his chest, basking in the sound of his strangled moan, when you thrash the leg in his lap and brush over his hard cock. 

His fingers move lower to dance along your slit and you grab his wrist strenuously. He hums a little. “Gonna put my fingers in your pussy and my tongue in your mouth now,” he’s mumbling and you can’t tell if he’s telling you or himself, but either way he does as promised, two fingers plunging into your sopping wet heat, while he dips his tongue in your hot mouth.

You're moaning into his lips. He’s kissing you so sloppily, spit spilling down both of your chins, and noses rubbing together, breathing scorching air into each other. His fingers are pumping in and out of you, then curling into that sweet spongy spot inside you. 

“Fuck!” you cry when he pulls away breathlessly, “so, so, so good. Chan- Chan, fuck!”

Your orgasm is building up in your stomach, with a pleasure that is simultaneously torturous. He’s looking at you so intensely, you feel like you might unravel under his gaze. “Fuck, Channie.”

“Yeah? You feel good?” he pauses his words, still curling his fingers in and out of you. His next words are somewhat uneasy: “Is this better than those other guys?” 

“Huh?” you mumble, chest arching and his mouth is watering at how inviting it is. “Back then,” he says, and it finally clicks what he’s talking about. 

“Pussy so good no wonder they all wanted a piece of you, hm? Such a slut,” he’s rambling now, fingers plunging in and out of you impossibly fast, while his other hand splays over your stomach, thumb tapping your clit. You cry out in ecstasy, unable to form coherent words to respond with.

“But you’re my slut, right?” His voice is raspy and right next to your ear. The thumb tapping your clit begins to rub circles into it. “Y/n,” he’s suddenly very serious, “say you’re my slut.” 

“I’m-” your voice crack in humiliation, cheeks fiery and eyes squeezed shut, “I’m your slut!” 

“That’s right,” he pants, trying to stop his hips from bucking into your calf. “And my slut is gonna cum on my fucking fingers right now.” 

Your orgasm feels otherworldly - maybe godly - and your whole body shakes in his hold, chest bouncing in his face and moans melodic in his living room. Chan works you through it, finally pulling his fingers out when your hands weakly push at his own.

You’re sighing heavily with hair messy and teased, slumped back on his couch. “Holy shit,” you say, grinning from ear to ear, completely dazed. Chan is watching you with a proud smirk and a tent the size of Texas in his pants. 

A thought strikes you then, and your grin is fading and your brows are furrowing. “Wait- Wait, Chan? Where are your parents?” you ask suddenly, sitting up and straight and pulling your dress down hastily. You snap your head around self-consciously. 

“Relax! Relax!” he laughs, “They don’t live here anymore, I bought the house from them, like, six months ago.” 

Your jaw drops. You wait just a second, hoping to catch a cheeky glint in his eyes, that might tell you he’s joking. You find nothing but blackness.

“You bought the house?” 

Chan looks at you quizzically, shrugging. “Yeah, I mean, they wanted to move, you know, see new things and I.. I just. Didn’t.” 

You can hardly fucking believe your ears.

“Chan!” you cry, frustration blooming in your chest and pounding in your head. “Why did you buy the fucking house? You’re gonna spend the rest of your life paying off the fucking mortgage, and you’re never gonna get out of here!” you shout, flailing your arms at his absurdity.

Chan narrows his eyes at you. “Sorry, city girl, we don’t all wanna pack up and live in a closet space for three years-” 

“Wha- Chan, this is not about me! How can you just.. Surrender to this place?” you shout and suddenly he’s raising his voice too. “Surrender?” he repeats, spitting it back at you.

“Yeah! Jesus, even your fucking parents wanted to leave, Chan. But you’re just- You’re gonna live out the rest of your life in this shithole and be some sort of- of priest?!” 

“I can’t believe you right now,” he stands up from the couch, and you follow suit. “In what world do you have the morality to come in here and tell me what I’m doing wrong?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” you scoff, crossing your arms. 

Your voices are echoing in the empty house, wine glasses and sauced plates standing idly on the tables nearby. Your silhouettes are confined to the large living room window, standing on either side of the moon. 

“You know what that means, Y/n,” he laughs bitterly. “No, please, tell me,” you invite him challengingly, wondering (or perhaps fearing) whether or not he’d actually go there. He prods at his cheek with his tongue, and hesitates.

“You were a fucking slut, Y/n.” His voice is quieter, maybe ashamed. Tears sting at your eyes, when you look at him incredulously. How could you think you knew this man? How could you think there was anything left to salvage? 

“Fuck you, Chan,” you spit, spinning around before the tears can fall. He says nothing, just stands alone in his living room while you dash out his door, hands wrapping around himself. 

Exiting his house into the cool, summer air, you realize one thing. The bell tower had been the call of the apocalypse.  _____________________________

You were the walls of Jericho that night, crying and tumbling in your childhood sheets, muffling your cries in the fear that he’d hear through his creaked open window. What was this pain, you couldn’t decide. Was it how he stayed steadfast or how you metamorphosed, dying only to return once again? 

In the morning, you’re dull and gray. You’re drinking coffee out of your dad’s old tourist shop mug from a visit to Niagara Falls, sitting at the dining table with puffy eyes. Your mom eyes you worriedly from the counter, leaning into your dad to whisper not-so-discreetly. 

“Sweetheart, you wanna go with us to church today? They’re having this whole event, the kids’ choir will be there!” she suggests gently and you just want to shrug off all her affection. 

“No,” you deadpan. Your mom gives your father a look. He sighs. 

“Alright, champ, that’s- that’s your choice,” he nods, mustache scrunching up when he pouts. You sigh, feeling like an asshole. “Sorry, I just-” 

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart, you just rest!” your mom shushes you, scrambling around the kitchen, ever in the hunt for some lost appliance. “All that college must wear you out, you should rest while you can, hm?” 

They’re gone by noon. You sit in the shadowed corner of your bed, avoiding the strip of light that dances across your room from the crack in the curtain. 

You’re bored, scrolling on your phone, cheek puffed up against your pillow, when it slips out of your hands and hits the floor with a loud bump. You groan, feeling like the whole world is against you today, and throw your arm off the bed to grab at it on the floor. 

It’s halfway under the bed, and when your fingers finally remark the smooth surface, they brush against something else. It’s hard and it feels dirty. You lift your head to look and tug it out.

It’s your diary. 

Phone long forgotten, you lift it carefully, like an old relic, and push open the faded pink cover. You feel like you’re about to snap in half, when your eyes survey the graphite-smudged pages of your horrible, horrible handwriting. The pages emanate a mysterious air that has you leaning back in your seat.

You’re skimming through angst entries, that has you cringing and wanting to put it down, before you freeze suddenly, inhaling sharply at the scribbled out words before you.

‘3. august 2016

God, I miss Chan.’

The words come with the promise of stinging tears in your eyes.

“Fuck you,” you whisper angrily at the page, because you’re crying again, and you close the book and hold onto yourself so tightly that it hurts. “Fuck that. Fuck this.” 

It’s perhaps the worst feeling you’ve ever felt. It’s anger, it’s sadness, it’s humiliation, it’s confusion. How did it end like this, you think. It would be so much easier if you were kids again. If he was that dorky kid from your church, who wore his father’s baseball caps and had chubby little hands when he prayed. You can do it better, you think miserably, if you get another chance. But you don’t. 

For about fifteen minutes, you curl into yourself and wait for the feeling to go away. It doesn’t. The heavy weight of realization pools in your stomach when you realize you might carry this with you for the rest of your life if you don’t do something. It doesn’t have to end like this.

Suddenly you’re light as a feather, grabbing your jacket and your keys and sprinting out the door and down the street. The cross atop the spire watches you run to it, awaiting you ominously.  _____________________________

You’re disheveled and pulled apart when you arrive at the gathering, and for once the townspeople look at you like you’re out of place. You’re late, you know, because people are taking their leave, scattering and dissolving towards the town square, and the entertainment (the kids’ choir), all robed in white, are marching away together. 

You’re panting, stumbling further into the church garden, jumping at the sound of grills being closed and rolled away onto the pavement. 

“Y/n?” Chan can hardly believe his eyes, when he sees you standing between a bed of lilies. You turn around and see him, melting a little at how tired and sad he looks. “I can’t believe you came,” he whispers, a little sparkle of hope in his gaze. You smile fondly, “Me neither.” 

Chan moves to embrace you, but freezes when he suddenly remembers where you are. “Uh, I can’t, I have to-” he stammers, scrambling for a solution, for something better than turning you away, when you’re here, close enough for him to hold. He looks around, gaze following the churchgoers as they pass through the gates, before he’s bopping his head down to whisper to you again: “Go into the church. I’ll be with you in a second.” 

You walk through that heavy, wooden door, and when it closes behind you the scrambling of metal and people and footsteps and crying children is gone. With the door, you’re sealed in here, with whatever fate follows.

All the light in the church is filtering through the stained glass windows, and once again you find yourself drawn to him. Judas. 

Part of you would expect such an artwork to depict Judas as greedy and grim, as glutinous and gloomy; that he would be hunched over with a pouch of shillings, giggling at his evildoing. But the Judas in the window is so.. Sad. 

He’s blue and gray and his eyebrows are upturned and for the life of you, you can’t figure out how the unknown artist must have managed to portray such despair in glass. You stand in the middle of his reflection on the floor, all blue and gray yourself, and you’re not sure it’s really because of the light.

That’s all the church inhabits at that moment. You and Judas, and your shallow breaths, and the stirring of dust in the air. There’s nothing holy in there with you. Just you and him.

You hear the door open to your right. You know it’s Chan, somehow you can just feel it. He must sense something in the air, because he says nothing, just walks up to stand beside you, and only then do you speak again.

“I always felt a bit like Judas,” you muster a breath.

Chan pauses and you can feel him looking at you. “Me too.” 

You furrow your brows, and finally look up at him, and there he is in his clerical shirt and his matching pants, his right cheek glowing bright blue. The whole room is so heavy, you lean against the bench behind you. 

“That’s not.. That’s not how it’s supposed to be.”

Chan doesn’t ask you to elaborate. He understands. “God made it that way,” he’s nodding with a pained expression on his face, almost as if he’s trying to convince himself. You laugh a little and hate how much love you feel, when Chan half-smiles at the sound.

“God.. Yeah,” you half-gesture to the sky and Chan giggles. Then you’re both quieting down again. “I can’t tell if it was you or God I turned my back on,” you say and you’re looking at Judas again, and how one, jagged hand holds onto his chest.

“Maybe it was both,” Chan says and there’s this unreadable expression on his face. You’re laughing again, cheeks apple-round. “I’m pretty sure it’s blasphemous to compare yourself to God.” 

“Yeah?” he laughs, “I think so too.” You’re looking at him again when he’s gulping hard and the joy drains from his face. A small frown curve his lips. “I’m sorry about yesterday, you know.” You look away.

“Me too,” you say. Chan can’t help the way his heart leaps when, without sparing him a glance, you grab his hand in yours and squeeze it. He squeezes back.

He gasps painfully and when you turn to him again, he’s choking back tears, face turning red. “I’m sorry,” he chokes out. “I just wish… Fuck, I mean, we’re too different, aren’t we?” 

You nod. “We are.” 

“When are you leaving?” 

You smile disingenuously, hoping it’ll cheer him up. It doesn’t.

“Tomorrow.” 

Chan is crying, there’s no denying it now, no chalking it up to sniffles. Tears, turning yellow from the sun behind Judas’ back, trail down his cheeks and he wipes them aggressively, but they just keep coming. Deep, despaired moans bounce off the ceiling and walls of the church.

“Can I-?” Chan begins, unable to form words between his heart-rattling sobs. “I just- I need to-” 

“Yes,” you say, and there’s not a single doubt in your mind, that this is what you both want, as you take a step forward and pull his lips into yours. 

Chan’s lips taste like every color of Judas, of blue, of yellow, of gray, of green. Salt hits your tongue when his tears trail down to where you’re connected, and he’s still crying into the kiss, hands finding your waist and clutching so, so hard. 

“Please don’t cry,” you whisper in between kisses, “you’re gonna make me cry.” 

“I’m sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t stop. He’s too caught up in memorizing the way your body feels under his hands, the way you’re moving against him, the way you’re pulling him by the collar of his clerical shirt, and how your nose feels shoved into his. 

His warm hands slide your shirt upwards, burning against your newly exposed skin. You pull away only to tug it over your head. Chan whimpers when he sees your chest, cupped by your bra and he pulls you into his chest to unhook the back, head looming over your shoulder. Ear pressed to his neck, you can feel the way it contracts, when he hiccups. 

As soon as he’s done, straps sliding gently down your arms, you’re pouncing on each other again, lips meeting rhythmically in the blued sunlight. Blindly, you’re unbuttoning his clerical shirt, fingers shaking against his chest. His hands clasp over yours soothingly, urging you to slow down. 

The whole ordeal is strangely silent, even Chan has stopped crying now, and the only sounds filling the church are the brush of fabric and your muffled moans into each other’s mouths. You’re whining though, when his shirt finally pushes off his shoulders and his torso is right in front of you and under your hands. 

You whimper at the sight alone, running your hands over his arms and over his chest down to his abs. Chan smirks at you. “I knew you liked it,” he mumbles to himself, almost childishly. 

This comment slows you down, as you’re pulling back to laugh, and you’re both shirtless in front of each other, hearts huge and glowing. Chan smiles at you adoringly while you laugh, face scrunched up and eyes crescents. 

“You can’t say that when I’m trying to fuck you,” you say finally, hair a mess on your head and lips pursed to keep yourself from laughing again. Chan loves your dumb face. He takes your hands in his and rubs the palms with his thumbs. “I know.” 

“Can I-?”

“Yes,” you whisper, agreeing before he can even get it out. Chan nods and holds you, gently guiding you onto the floor, where your entire body is marbled by the light hitting the glass. Chan stands over you for a moment. 

“You’re just gonna stare at me?” you joke, but your arms are sneaking their way up your torso. “Yeah,” Chan responds, but he’s already kneeling down in front of you, moving your arms away. 

“You are so beautiful,” he says it as if it almost pains him, but he’s straddling you and fumbling with your jean-buttons, beginning the tedious task of peeling them off your legs. You want to say something snarky, but he has you breathless and blushing, all you can muster is a meek: “Thank you.” 

He looks up from his work on your jeans at that, smiling at you fondly. 

You kick your jeans off your legs, while he begins to undo the buckle of his own pants, shoving them down his legs at the first opportunity. You’re both almost naked, you in your panties and him in his boxers, and you’re wondering why he’s showing no signs of moving them off you, dick hard and scorching fucking hot against your clothed core. Then he plants his arms on either side of your head, and rolls his hips into yours.

The moan you let out is coming from deep in your fucking soul. Only something godly could pull that out, you decide, sopping fucking wet from the star-like heat it has against you. “You sound so pretty,” he whimpers and does it again. Then again and again and again, and you’re arching your back and the both of you are moaning and groaning, filling the church with humidity. 

“Chan,” you muster, sounding on the verge of tears. His head is lowered onto your breasts, panting hard into the impossibly soft skin. “I-Inside. Now.” 

Chan wants to say something sexy, but he’s so desperate for you, that all he can manage is: “I agree.” 

He’s scrambling wildly to tear his boxers off and you do the same, lifting your hips to remove your drenched panties from your core. When you’re left bare, he lets out a choked moan, because immediately your hole clenching and gushing slick onto the tiled floor. The church floor, no less. 

“So fucking beautiful, and mine. Belongs to me,” he babbles, eyes wounded, but fingers spreading your folds open, as he lowers his head to remark on them. You mewl, fingers clawing at his shoulders. “Miss you,” you squall and he looks up at your face again. “Okay,” he responds, body moving back up to your face. Then he mutters against your lips: “Miss you too.” 

He’s kissing you again, so warm and wet in your mouth and humming into you. You claw at his back and whine wildly, when his hand steers his dick through your folds, lubricating itself in your plentiful wetness. 

He pulls away and you chase after him with sorrowful eyes. “I need to see your face when I push in,” he explains very sincerely, and you somehow understand that, yes, he needs to see it. You nod.

Then he’s pushing into you. He bursts through your gates, all thick and veiny and totally raw against the walls of your pussy. He’s slow, studying your face tenderly for any signs of discomfort, even when he grimaces from the euphoric feeling. And God, your face is so perfect, all scrunched up and twisted in pleasure, mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut. He will remember it forever.

He’s rocking in and out of you, and it’s slow, and it’s love, and it’s mature, and you’re moaning simultaneously, foreheads pressed together, as he fucks you into the floor. 

“Are you close, darling?” he pants against your cheek and you nod, because you are. Because it feels like your body has been working its way up to this final point, and every other milestone has just been a hillpeak on the way to a mountain. “Yes, yes, yes, I am.” 

“Good, so good for me,” he’s speeding up just a little bit, working the two of you closer and gaining leverage from his bruising grip on your hips. Your hand slides up his neck, from where he’s nuzzled into the side of your nose, and you whisper breathlessly in his ear: “Please cum inside, please, please.” 

And Chan’s head spins at that, thrusting so hard you’re entire body jerks. You, all filled with his kids, all soft and big stomached. The thought has his thrusts - now quite swift - becoming sloppy and has him spurting cum. You come at the feeling of him spurting inside you, spluttering you full of white seed, so much that it’s spilling out at the base of his cock. 

You’re both stilling, bodies expanding eagerly for air, and he’s still so close to you, still inside you, still buried in your hair, nose huffing breaths into your ear. The church is so painfully quiet, you begin to hear your own heartbeat. This was it. This was the narrow end. There was no other way. 

Lying your head on the tile and tilting it, so your eyes dance over the floor beneath you, you realize that Judas is no longer the artwork, no longer the masterpiece: It’s you and Chan on the floor, arching into each other and bathed in his light. To an unknowing outsider, the expressions you carry would also seem misplaced, just like Judas had to you. But you both know, still clinging onto each other like angels that flutter from the sky and into hell, that it was because of the end you had ensured for each other.

“I love you.” 

Chan whispers the words into your neck, voice thick. You realize he’s crying again, because you feel burning hot tears dribble down your neck, and his shoulders are shaking. You curl your arms around him.

“I know. I’m sorry. I love you too.” 

#svt smut #svt x reader #svt chan x reader #svt dino x reader #svt chan smut #svt dino smut #svt angst #svt chan angst #chan x reader #chan angst #lee chan x reader #lee chan smut #lee chan angst

[zoeykallus]

Do you take requests? I would love to read something with Hunter where he teaches you how to fight :))) smut is also welcome

Hmm, thanks for the input 🔥🔥🔥

Hunter x Fem!Reader One-Shot - Show Me What You've Got

Warnings: Smut/Strongly Suggestive/Soft-Dom Hunter/Training Turns To Smut/Sexual Content/Dub-Con(?)/Dirty Stuff/18+

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You won't find much of a plot here 🤷🏻‍♀️

Also, I'm so tired I could cry, so this is not proofread, sorry...

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You are much too self-confident, actually you already know that before you visit him, so far you never beat hunter in a sparring session. But you want to try out the few moves you learned yesterday. And who would be better suited for that than Hunter, whom you like to get close to anyway? The man is downright outrageously handsome, with his dark hair, that striking face, those firm muscles under his toned skin. Combined with that deep, slightly smoky voice, the way he moves and looks at you, a cocktail that always makes your heart beat faster and fills your nights with wild dreams. Hunter really likes to be alone. You know that because he always makes sure he has a training room all to himself in the barracks. Basically, Hunter withdraws from others at every opportunity rather than seeking their proximity. You know why he takes time off whenever he can, trains alone, and spends as little time as possible with other soldiers besides his own squad. Hunter's extraordinary senses cause him to be quickly exposed to sensory overload, with things that others wouldn't even notice. Being continuously exposed to everything in this way, you imagine, is very exhausting.

So you can understand his general reserve. Hunter is already waiting for you when you enter the training room. He has already spread out the large mat on the floor, which is supposed to cushion any possible falls. You examine him quickly, inconspicuously. Black muscle shirt, black sports pants, barefoot. Of course, he's wearing his bandana, as usual. He has bandaged his hands, probably he intends to go to the punching bag later, you have observed him secretly, fascinated sometimes. The flex of his muscles, the power behind each punch, his posture. You suppress a longing sigh at the thought. Hunter addresses you, snapping you out of your thoughts. "There you are. I've been waiting." You glance at the clock hanging on the wall of the room above your heads, and say dryly, "I'm five minutes early." Hunter smiles with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, "I know, but you're usually in earlier than that" You blink, feeling caught. Does he know that you sometimes secretly watch him? But he distracts your thoughts again.

"You learned something new you wanted to try with me?" he asks curiously. "Um, yeah, right. Something Wolffe showed me." Hunter frowns briefly and asks, so casually it almost doesn't seem casual anymore, "Since when do you hang out with the wolf pack?" The way you look at him makes him feel like you're looking right into him and seeing through his curious question. So he looks down at his hands and pretends he needs to fix the bandages. Somehow you can't recognize his behavior for what it is at this moment. You shrug your shoulders and say, "For quite some time now, as a matter of fact, sometimes. Did I never tell you about it before?" "No, you didn't," Hunter says, clearing his throat and pulling his bandana a little tighter. "Well, now I've told you," you say lightly, unaware of why he's so interested. Hunter nods and says, "Okay, show me what you've got."

His gaze wanders along your body, your posture. Your black yoga pants hugging your curves, the shirt you wear is a little wider, but knotted in the back. Hunter is distracted and promptly lands on his back as you pull his legs away with a simple trick. He makes a startled noise before landing on the ground. Grinning, you bend over him. "Well, that was easy today," you say, amused.

"I wasn't fully on top of my game. That doesn't count." You snort and laugh softly, "Oh come on Hunter, no one on the battlefield cares if you're ready or not either". His eyes narrow, and he says suspiciously smoky, "Hmm, good point". In the next moment he's grabbed you, taken down your defenses, has you on your back and is on top of you.

"Damn," you curse softly and try to break free, but he holds you under him with ease. He grins at you and your heart really jumps out at him, but not only that, a gentle pulse has arisen between your thighs as your nether regions touch, and you feel every contact very clearly through the thin fabric of your pants. "Gotcha, once again," he says with a grin.

You smile back nervously. You are aware of how sharp his senses are, and he will notice the change in your mood and hormone balance very quickly. Finally, you see it in his face. His expression changes, the smile slowly disappears, he blinks and tilts his head slightly to the side. "That's new," he says softly. You don't even ask what he means, because you already know. You swallow and say just as quietly, "Sorry." You expect him to let go of you and seek distance, but he surprises you. Hunter grabs both of your wrists with one hand and pins them above your head on the mattress, his other hand gently moving to the back of your neck. "There is no need to be sorry, if you ask me".

He knows it's a daring move, but he cant help it, he has to take the leap and taste the waters.

Your heart almost jumps out of your chest as his face comes closer and closer. His lips touch yours, slowly at first, tenderly, and your pulse begins to race, your eyes closing. Hunter's tongue slides over your lips which automatically open for him, and as it slides in and touches yours, the pulse between your thighs intensifies. You moan softly into the kiss. Very clearly, you feel him slowly getting hard as his pelvis still rests on yours, between your thighs. The hand that is on your neck slowly moves down, over the fabric of your shirt, feeling your breasts, gently kneading them, probing. His thumb feels your nipples, which are erected, pressing through the thin fabric of your bra and shirt.

A shiver runs down your spine, a tingle spreads through your belly as he plays with your nipples through the fabric, still holding you captive beneath him and his kiss. Ever so slowly, barely noticeably, he moves between your legs, pushing his hard length through the fabric, rubbing over your pubic, sparking gentle, stimulating friction. Hunter's hand finally moves under the fabric, while the other still holds your wrists. You feel his bare fingertips on your skin, the rough fabric of the bandages on his hands as he pushes the cups of your bra up and off your breasts to get at the soft, velvety mounds beneath. Suddenly he straightens up, sitting between your thighs, and let's go of you. He points an admonishing finger at you with a dirty little smile and says, " Stay right there." You obey, not even thinking of contradicting him. He takes off the bandages, removes them from his hands and tosses them carelessly to the side before throwing himself over you again. He stops just inches away from your face, catches himself with his hands on the mat, and grins at you.

Hunter teasingly kisses your chin and the tip of your nose, then straightens up again, pulling your T-shirt over your head. "Be a good girl and come with me," he says in an almost whisper, close to your ear, just before he bites your earlobe very gently.

You swallow, but nod and let him help you up. Clad only in your panties, you follow him to a side chamber where other workout equipment is stored. Hunter leads you to one of the benches where people usually lift weights, puts his towel over it and gently but firmly pushes you onto it so that you are lying on your back in front of him.

With a little smirk, he says, "Good girl."

Hunter wanders down along your body, pulling off your yoga pants and murmuring, "I really need to smell and taste you." You blink, heat flooding your body the second you realize exactly what he means by that. Your pants land on the floor, then his fingers travel down from the base of your breasts to where your body is radiating the most heat. His fingertips ghost over the thin fabric of your panties, lingering on the wet spot, exerting playful pressure. Hunter is kneeling in front of the bench, head between your thighs, close to your pubic area, he takes a deep breath and shakily expels it. "Damn, what a scent!"

His cock is already twitching expectantly in his pants, your hormones, the luring substances your body produces in arousal, tingling under his skin, from crown to toe. His fingers finally wander under the waistband of your panties and pull them off as well.

You can't believe that you are lying practically naked on a bench in one of the training halls, Hunter's head between your thighs. He has reserved this room for himself, but it is not locked, someone could still come in. But this thought suddenly disappears from your mind when you feel his breath on your damp folds, and shortly after his lips and tongue.

He presses his tongue to your pussy, roaming through your folds, dipping into your sensitive, wet hole once or twice, making you twitch, before he focuses on your clit. His tongue, exerting perfect pressure, circles skillfully and nimbly on the bundle of nerves. You haven't noticed it yourself yet, but you're already sighing, moaning and gasping, fueling him in his efforts. Hunter feels exactly each of your reactions, knows exactly when and what causes your arousal to increase, and thus learns very quickly, to perfection, every pressure, every movement that sends you into ecstasy. You tremble with aroused tension, your thighs quiver gently. You are so horny, and yet a part of you is very aware of what is happening and can't quite grasp it. That's Hunter tonguing your clit as if he's been programmed to do just that. It feels so good, everything is tingling and vibrating inside you, your hands are gripping the bench above your head and clutching at it.

He is relentless. You hear the soft slurp, a repetitive soft aroused rumble deep from his chest as he holds your thighs apart with his hands. He's getting faster and faster, his tongue gliding over your swollen pearl more and more rapidly. Hunter is literally chasing you towards your orgasm. The knot that has formed in your belly loosens, a fiery tingle pulses through your clit, your pussy twitches and drips. Your moan is almost like a little scream. Hunter's tongue massages you through a prolonged, intense climax.

You dare only a brief glance and see his intense eyes, the pupils so dilated that his eyes seem almost black. His senses are full of you, your scent and your hormones have practically overpowered him. He lets go of your clit, just at the right moment, and you're just about to catch your breath when he moves further down and his tongue suddenly drills into your dripping opening and starts licking you out. "Hunter!" you exclaim, startled. Hypersensitive after climaxing, you twitch and tremble as he uses his tongue to fill you. He has to grip tighter to keep you from escaping his grasp and slipping off the bench with your twitching. You claw even harder with your hands on the bench. Hunter takes his time, absorbing every drop of your juices like a starving man. It takes a moment, but your arousal builds again. Suddenly his head comes out from between your legs and he takes a deep breath.

"What a feast, my good girl," he says in a voice rough with horniness. He straightens up, kneeling in front of the bench, his pelvis between your thighs, and you catch a glimpse of his hard length. His cock is thick, long, gently curved, the tip slightly red and swollen, leaking pre-cum. You lick your lips, knowing what's coming next, can't wait to feel him inside you. But you're also a little nervous. You know him, you know he won't hurt you, but this has all happened so suddenly and quite unexpectedly. As if sensing it, he looks at you and asks softly, "Are you ready for me, beautiful?" You blink, feeling a little breathless, but you nod and say, "I couldn't be more ready." He smirks, looks down, grips the base of his cock and guides the tip to your pussy. Hunter is hungry, very much so, but he takes it slow, applying only gentle pressure at first, prodding at your entrance, softly. You bend your legs and pull them up, opening your thighs invitingly a little wider for him.

Hunter applies more pressure, parts your wet folds and slowly advances between your slick walls. You watch him as he tenses his muscles. He licks his lips, looks down and watches in fascination as his hard length sinks into you. As he bottoms out in you, he closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath. The feeling is intense, for both of you. For him as your wet heat closes around his cock, his senses full of you, and for you as he stretches and fills you. One of his hands moves to your hip and grips gently but firmly, the other moves to your pubic area. His fingertips gently glide over your clit, which is swollen, gently pulsing. Your legs clamp gently but firmly around his hips, showing him you're ready for more. Hunter smiles in satisfaction. He can definitely feel and smell your willingness. He knows that his fingers dancing on your pearl have got you going again. His hips pull back a bit and thrust into you again. A soft wet sound, accompanied by the impact of naked skin on naked skin, fills the room. He takes you slowly, but he gradually speeds up. You feel each thrust, erotically invading, combined with your pearl pulsing under his fingers, and you lean your head back.

Hunter watches you, your every movement, the way your breasts move with each of his thrusts, and again and again he looks down, watching your bodies merge. "This is so good, Hunter," you moan, pushing against his thrusts, using your hands on the bench to push. He's getting faster and faster. The accelerating, lewd sound of your bodies colliding with each thrust, mixed with your lustful sounds, is like music to his ears. The tension, the intensity increases, you feel it too. You automatically tense your abdomen, causing your pussy to close even tighter around his cock.

He lets out a half-swallowed moan. His fingers on your clit quicken, his whole body tense, hard as granite. You groan out in a near whisper, "So close." "Good girl," Hunter presses out breathlessly.

His thrusts become irregular, he bites his lower lip, his hand on your hip grips tighter. Your climax pulses through the center of your body, makes your pussy twitch, and your thighs shake. A curse comes across your lips. The next moment you hear him let out a deep, drawn-out moan, feel his warm seed coating your walls. Two-three more slow, firm thrusts and Hunter pauses, breathing heavily. You both catch your breath, only now noticing that everything here smells musty like an old gym, mixed with the distinct tangy, salty smell of sex. He leaves your body, gently cleans you with the towel. Then, finally, your eyes meet again. You look at each other for a moment, then both of you grin. "That was an interesting workout," you say, laughing softly. He chuckles and says, "That's something Wolffe sure didn't show you." You look at him cheekily and say, "How would you know?" Hunter frowns, his smile disappears, he doesn't seem to know quite what to say. You can see his shoulders tense. You chuckle and say, "You should see your face. Relax Sergeant, you're the only soldier who's been between my thighs so far."

Hunter's shoulders relax again, he raises a brow in amusement, "If you don't mind, I'd like to remain the only one in the future"

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaw

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@jediknightjana

@pb-jellybeans

@antishadow2021

@sleepycreativewriter

@bandnerdlevel43

#smut #hunter smut #hunter x reader smut #hunter x reader #star wars #tbb #the bad batch #clone force 99 #sw tbb #bad batch hunter #hunter #clone trooper hunter #hunter x you #sergeant hunter #hunter x fem!reader #hunter bad batch #hunter tbb #hunter the bad batch #sergeant hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x you #tbb hunter #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch hunter

[f1nalgirlz]

Spooktober day 5: Stormy night | Dan Cooper

my list

˗ˏˋwarnings´ˎ˗ nsfw, smut, almost soft dom reader, kitchen smut

˗ˏˋcontent´ˎ˗ established relationship, kitchen bj, oral sex/blowjob (m receiving)

((not proofread yet as always I’ll fix mistakes later🫶🎃))

You were home alone tonight, your boyfriend, Dan, having left for work in the morning. It was late now and the rain had lasted all day, only amping up when the sun set. When the sky was completely dark, the thunder and lightning began, knocking the power out. You’d been laying in bed reading a book while waiting for Dan to get home when all the lights went off, leaving you in the pitch black. You fumbled around your nightstand, patting around it in hopes of finding your flashlight keychain. When your fingers touched the cold metal of your keys you smiled a little, grabbing them and feeling around the keys until your flashlight was in your hands. As you clicked it on, you got up, heading to get some candles to light your house.

As you dropped to your knees in the kitchen, digging through a cabinet for candles, you heard the front door open and shut. You sat a few tall candles on the counter as you stood up, hearing foot steps behind you. Turning to shine your light at the entrance to the kitchen, you accidentally flashed your boyfriend in the eyes, causing his hand to shoot up to cover them. “Hey!” he called out, making you drop your keychain. “Sorry!” You called back grabbing them up again. “I was looking for candles.” You said, grabbing two off the counter. When you looked at him you could tell he was soaked, brown hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks.

“I’ll go get you a towel.” You said, setting the other two candles down on the table. He nodded, taking your place in the kitchen, pulling his lighter from his pocket and lighting the candles. As he waited for you to get back he began to rid himself of his remaining wet clothes, peeling off his shirt and dropping it into the sink. As you walked back into the kitchen, you were met with the sight of Dan dropping his pants, that were heavy with rain, into the sink. His nearly nude figure was illuminated by the light from the candles. You clicked off your light, dropping your keys on the table when you walked to him. He smiled when he noticed you, then came a soft “thank you.” You smiled and wrapped him in the towel, feeling his damp arms wrap around you. He leaned down, kissing you gently, as you kissed him back you could feel cold strands of wet hair on your cheeks.

When he pulled away you caressed his face. “Long day?” You asked receiving a nod. “Yes. It wouldn’t have been so bad if not for the storm.” He said, a sigh slipping his lips. You had always enjoyed the rain and storms, but Danny… not so much. He really hated them, he hated not having power, he hated the feeling of wet clothes on his skin, but most of all he hated the nervousness he got from the cracking of thunder. You gave him a slight smile and leaned on the counter, crossing your arms and looking his body over. The towel draped over him hardly covered his lithe body. A sudden flash of lightening illuminated the room, causing Danny’s brows to furrow. “How about I improve your day some, hm?” You said, reaching a hand out which he took.

As you slowly pulled him into you by his hand a smile grew on his lips. You gently moved him so his back was against the counter and with a smile you pecked his cheek. The sound of the rain aggressively coming down on the roof and windows filled the room. You then calmly sank to the floor, dragging your hands down his sides, then hips, and stopping on his thighs. He shivered at your touch, making you smile a little as you looked up at him. “May I?” You asked when your fingers looped around the waistband of his boxer briefs. He nodded at you but you tilted your head. “Use your words if you want it, Danny.” You said gently. “Yes, please.” He said and that was plenty good enough for you so, you pulled his briefs down. Your hand wrapped around his semi-hard length, giving it a gentle pump. It seemed like your touch alone was enough to make him hard because it didn’t take very long for him to be fully erect in your palm.

You looked up at him through your eyelashes when you took the first lick, just barely touching your tongue to his tip. You could hear a quiet whine coming from your boyfriend as you slowly took his cock into your mouth, bobbing your head. As his soft hands ran through your hair, you hummed around him. You always let him touch as long as he didn’t push your head, and he never did. As you bobbed your head, you gently held onto his hips, listening to his moans and whimpers. The sounds of his moans made your body hot, wetness growing in your panties. You heard Dan’s breathing get more and more unsteady, and could feel him writhing in your touch. You knew this meant he was close so you pulled off his cock with a ‘pop’ instead using your hand to pump his length.

You stared up at him, mouth open with his tip on your tongue as you jerked him off. As Danny looked down at you his chest heaved, eyes rolling back as he came into your mouth. A crack of thunder sounded in the room as a flash of lightning lit up Dan’s face that was wrinkled up in pleasure. As he came the salty liquid went down your throat and on the corners of your mouth. You continued milking his cock as he came causing his body to shudder and whimpers to leave his mouth. As you swallowed all that was in your mouth, you stood up, giving him a slow kiss. He instantly reciprocated, his arms wrapping tightly around you. “Well… is it improved?” You asked, receiving an eager nod. He instantly reciprocated, kissing you back and wrapping his arms around you. You laughed a little as he began dragging you to the bedroom, grabbing a candle off the table to light the way.

R: I know this is pretty basic but,, it is what it is 😝 my missed Kinktober day 4 will be up when I get the final result of the poll and Kinktober day 1 will be up SOMETIME before the 31st. (probably) Ik i suck hard for already missing days by 5 but I’m working on it😭 as an apology for missing 2 days I will let you know that day 1 is a Clyde fic🫶 okay byeee

#rory culkin #charlie walker #rory culkin character x reader #scre4m #scream #scream4 #scream 4 #danny cooper #dan cooper #dan cooper intruders #intruders 2015 #culkin brothers #culkin cult #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #spooktober 2023 #spooktober #charlie walker smut #charlie walker x you #charlie walker x y/n #rory culkin smut

[milks-thoughts]

hi it me, the best ROTTMNT writer to ever exist I know 😌

BUT I HAVE COME WITH AN ASK GRRR IM GOING TO DESTROY YOUR WRITER BLOCK

I need the turtles trying to teach their s/o something, and they stance is just a little bit off so they come up behind them to fix their posture and 😳 I'D KILL FOR THAT 😍😍😍😍

bye bye love you boo 💋 /p

PLEASE IM SO SORRY IF THIS IS OOC FOR MIKEY OR DONNIE- I DUNNO HOW TO WRITE THEM VERY WELL (blame Nick for their lack of episodes >:()

BUT YAYAYAY OKAY IMA TRYYY I HAVEN’T WRITTEN FOR THEM IN LIKE A YEAR OR TWO

this isn’t beta read! nor is it proofread- any mistakes are there now. there is no getting rid of them, they are part of the writing now. this is so short I’m sorry

tw: NONE ITS JUST HEART THROBBING FLUFF <33

Raph

“ can you teach me how to knit? “

That’s all you have to say before Raphs enthusiastically taking you to his room

Little did you know knitting is hard

you were trying your hardest at knitting, you really were! But you couldn’t get the movements right, and the needles were so hard to move. It was honestly frustrating. Your eyebrows furrowed together as you again attempted to start a chain, you didn’t know how Raph did it. Your thoughts were disrupted by his voice ringing out “ -you’re not doin it right, here let me show you! “ he would walk over to where you were sitting and leaned over you. His plastron hitting your head slightly. It didn’t bother you, since you were distracted by his big hands grabbing yours and leading your movements, his voice didn’t process in your ears as you tried keeping your blush down. You decided it was best to focus back in so you could do it without him leading your hands, has it always been this hot in here? it was probably just you. He eventually let go of your hands “ you alright? your face is all red, are you sick? “ you could only chuckle and shake your head “ I’m alright love “ you promised before going back to knitting, so what if you were purposefully accidentally messing up? you were happy to be spending time with him.

Leo

You were genuinely so excited when you found out he could skate

“ can you teach me!? “

Didn’t even think about how hard skating is

You didn’t take in account that even when walking you kept falling over, so on wheels? Forget it your ass is grass. a few hard falls and scrapped knees later you eventually could balance on it. Trying to get going was the hard part, you brought your foot down and completely fell off. you landed on your rear-end so at least you weren’t bleeding again “ that must’ve hurt wheel bad “ you glared up at him, but your brows lifted as you chuckled. stepping back on you felt his hands on your waist as he walked next to you. “ your posture and stance is so bad “ Leo chuckled, you gave him a playful glare. your face was red though, Leo’s hand held onto you as you put down a foot and touched the floor. Letting out a excited cheer you smiled up at Leo he smirked “ I guess I’m your lucky charm Hm? “

Donnie

Coding was intriguing, to you at least

Watching Donnie spend hours on it while you do..your own thing was fun

“ can you teach me to code? It looks cool “

you poor unfortunate soul. Donnie was a amazing teacher, and nothing but patient at that. you just didn’t realize how hard coding actually was. “ okay! so- “ typing in the code you hummed in frustration. It didn’t work. Donnie reached over you, his hand taking on top of yours and like a puppet on a string he used your fingers to type in the code “ that will make it work. You weren’t listening dum-dum “ he gently reprimanded. You just simply leaned into his touch. you were on his bed, sitting in front of him. He simply laid down, it was the quiet hours of the night when both of you couldn’t fall asleep. you listened to all of Donnie’s rambles, tonight you wanted to use that knowledge. Typing away you noticed as he watched, even when you stilled or slowed down as your brain picked apart what you needed to do. Eventually you got it to work. It was a simple website for your art, but god was it amazing “ you finally did it, salutes “ his tone blunt and calm, but you could read the fine print, he was proud of you.

Mikey

You loved watching Mikey spray paint

It was obvious because of the hours you’d spend watching him

“ I wonder how I’d do spray painting? “

you got the answer to your own question: you’re shit at it. Mikey was painting next to you before he paused “ you’re holding it all wrong silly! “ he walked up behind you and grabbed your hand moving the paint can he took control off your arm and made a few strokes down like you were doing. His head resting on your shoulder, music blaring into your ears from the headphones he was wearing. Mikey simply smiled at you, his orange mask stained with paint from his messy fingers working it, you’ve come to realize Mikey has many masks. And not just Dr. Delicate Touch or Dr. Feelings. But he literally has a whole drawer full of him and his brothers masks, in case anyone needs a replacement. He let go of your hand as you continued the movements getting brought back by his comforting weight leaving your shoulder “ there we go! see now you’re holding it right, you should put on some music really get in the moment “

#rottmnt #<3 #cute fluff #literally heartwarming #died while writing this #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt x you #leo x reader #donnie x reader #reader is gender neutral #no y/n #mikey x reader #raph x reader #I hope I tagged this right #I hope y’all like this #writing is surprisingly easy #I dont know why

[fairlyaltheticquails]

a new song

gideon graves x reader.

words: 1439

fluff

canon divergent, i love my pookie bear soft gideon, sorry. this is very lightly proofread, so if there are mistakes, look away. ill fix it eventually. i dont know if i want to exclusively use gordon or gideon or bounce between the two. if you have any strong thoughts about this lmk. as always, thanks for reading!!

The longest imaginable day at work had finally come to an end. Escaping the torrential downpour at home, comfy clothes on, bed looking nice and cozy, getting ready to settle down for a nice quick end to your night. But just as you sat down, throwing the blanket over your lap, locking in to watch that new show everyone has been discussing, you swore you heard the faintest knocks on your door. 

Two raps, so quiet you had to pause and strain to listen, attempting to decipher if they were even real, or just residual noise from thundering rain outside. A beat, two. Nothing. Several moments pass before you pick up on the sound of shuffling feet moving away from the door slowly.

Standing and moving quickly to peek outside, you see a man. His features are almost nondiscernible through the droplets and the dark of the night, and it takes a moment to place the black hair and tri-color suit. Lighting strikes nearby, and the same bolt of light strikes you. Flashes of a little, scrawny kid with glasses plague your mind all at once, stunning you momentarily before you finally rasp out the name.

“Gordon?”

He turns back to you, only illuminated by the pale orange light let out from your cracked door. His clothes are demolished, his white suit jacket torn through and fraying. His glasses are broken in several spots, leaving them to hang loosely on his pale, sunken face. 

“Hey.” He sighs out, breath catching and fogging in the brisk air. Watching him makes your muscles ache. Violent shivers wrack his body, and you can tell even in the dim light how hard he is trying to minimize them. If he clenched his jaw any harder, he'd break his teeth. 

“What are you doing here? In the rain?” You ask puzzled, opening the door further to scan the surrounding night. Silence. It was just him, and you weren't sure what that meant. The great Gideon Graves, filthy and soaking wet on your doorstep looking an awful lot like some kind of dumped kitten.

“I… I didn't have anywhere else to go. Anyone else to go to…” He chokes out, sounding strangled. He looks away to the ground, kicking some spare gravel littering the sidewalk instead of meeting your gaze. You watch silently as he gives out a particularly hard shiver, and despite him trying to hide it, he winces in pain.

“Look, I’m freezing just standing here, I can't imagine how you feel. Come in, we can talk more.” you offer sympathetically. Is your mother's voice in the back of your head, yelling out to you to not let this almost stranger inside your home, yes. But, are your memories of the dorky kid you used to know playing on the same frequency? Also yes. 

 He freezes, pondering, before looking back to you. The smallest smile graces his features, before he nods, and journeys back up the steps to your front door. On the last step, you stick out your hand to him. He grabs it gently, and despite his hand feeling like it is solid ice, it sets you on fire.

-

Gordon was a bag of surprises tonight. 

It started when you had offered to get him some warm, dry clothes, and while he gladly accepted the offer to get rid of the soaked suit he was wearing, he very kindly informed you that he didn't need a new shirt. He must have seen the baffled look on your face, staring at the red shirt that was currently leaving a water puddle in your entryway, and he revealed a white top underneath that was (mostly) dry. But that wasn't the true surprise. It was the large black font of the front spelling ‘NO FEAR’. 

It gave you a flood of familiarity and nostalgia, and you couldn't help but smile. He's different, you're different, but somehow all these years later, you're still just the same kids you once were. 

The second surprise was when you finally got him to sit down and let you look at the scratches and cuts on his face and arms. There were plenty of them, all in varying sizes and severity. You were no ER doc, but you figured that with this many wounds combined with the borderline hypothermia (thank god he didn't put up a fight when you offered him to use your shower, his shaking had disappeared when he rejoined you) as well as playing in rainwater for only god knows how long, it wouldn't hurt to clean them up. Luckily none of them were bad enough to need serious medical care.

You had asked what happened, and other than a few very non-committal answers, Gordon had all but ignored your questions. You had mostly resigned yourself to quietly looking over his wounds, while he taped up the frames of his glasses and the TV droned on in the other room when Gordon sat up straighter and shook you off. You stepped back to give him some room when he started talking.

“You deserve answers. It isn't fair of me to crash on you and then not tell you why.” He says, rolling out his shoulders and meeting your eyes. “Everything I have is gone. My job, my company, my life. All taken away by some low level theater junkie I made the mistake of underestimating. I have nothing, I am nothing,” He ends.

“Gordon, I’m…” You start, but he cuts you off.

“It's over now. What's happened is already done, you know? The real question is what I'm going to do about it, and trust me, he's going to regret double crossing me like he did. Sooner rather than later. And the rest of those clowns that took his side will be right there with him, and…” He pauses to take a breath before deflating. “And… nothing. I don't know what I'm saying.” He drops his head into his hands. “You're all I have left. And, I shouldn't be dumping this on you,”

You rest a hand on his shoulder, and he stops his rambling. He looks up at you, and you feel your face beginning to burn. The look in his eyes is so heartfelt and sweet you can't hold eye contact for long. You swear the vibrancy of the room around you has multiplied in your peripheral like you've been transported into a supernova. You give his shoulder a gentle squeeze before letting go.

“It's late, you should get some sleep.” you say quietly, not wanting to disturb the aura that's been created, afraid if you speak too loudly or move too quickly, it'll vanish. Gordon nods, standing from where you had pulled out a seat for him in your kitchen, and follows you to the living room. He sits himself down on your couch, and even if you pretend not to notice, you can see him watching you turn on the various lamps to softly illuminate the room. When you turn to him, he looks away. 

“I promise it's super comfortable. Fell asleep on it more times than I can count. I’ll, uh, find you a blanket, and stuff. One second.” you say shyly. It only takes a moment to find what you are looking for, and upon reentering the living room you find Gordon standing and examining the room. From the pictures you have displayed, to various knick-knacks, and everything else in plain view. Eyes scanning each thing, looking them over slowly, before turning to the next. It's strangely endearing to see him so engaged with random bits and pieces of your life.  It's your turn to observe for several moments before he notices your presence.  Meeting him halfway, you hold out the pile of blankets.

“Thank you, for everything. You don't know how much it means to me, after everything that’s happened.” Gordon says in a low voice, taking the stack from you, your hands brushing as they pass. His hands are much less frigid now, and the same electricity from earlier passes between the one simple touch, and it once again lights up your chest with a divine warmth. Electric wings flutter between your ribs. Sparks. You think it must just be you, but upon looking at Gordon, the same look of surprise and delight is on his face as well. And then he smiles. For the first real-time all night, and god, it's beautiful. The kind of smile where you can't help but smile back with just as much intensity.

“Anytime. Goodnight, Gordon.”

“Goodnight”

-

The butterflies in your chest flew all night long.

#gordon goose #gideon graves #gideon graves x reader #scott pilgrim takes off #gordon goose x reader #my writing

[kakujis]

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓… ☽

geto vers | baji vers

synopsis: when your husband and best friend are targeted by a hitman, the aftermath leaves you in shock. but suguru has always instilled one line into you: forever has no meaning unless you're in it.

warnings: gn!reader, vampire!suguru, vampire!choso, vampire!satoru, hitman!toji, character death ( + resurrection), depictions of blood and violence, almost blind devotion, a bit angsty but also fluffy.. but also not really? idk what to tag this as LOL, canon divergent (gojo n geto are attacked much later in life), you have no clue they’re sorcerers 👍, swearing, sfw, if choso is ooc im so sorry idk barely anything about/cldnt get a read on his character from one episode djknj

ft + wc: vampire!suguru x reader, 3.2k

tags: @enchantedforest-network, @em1e (u guys should totally read em's necromancy fic btw)

a/n: hi! idk wtf this is, this is just how i deal with chara death i think? this idea came to me when i realized i was writing two fics about dealing with grief (baji fans are u here ?) and wrote nearly 2k for both in one sitting haha. anyways, i feel like atp i'm edda from ffxiv coded except suguru is 1000x better than avere. if you'd like to listen to her theme, it's here. thank u to wallaby for proofreading!

there is something about the morning light, filtered through the white blinds that you’ve forgotten so many times to replace, that feels just like a hug. it’s this light that kisses your eyelids and pulls you out of bed faster than your mother on a school morning. 

you’ll yawn, then stretch, pulling your arms up and over your head arching your back as you do. then you’ll get up, set up a pot of coffee before heading off to brush your teeth and wash your face. and you’ll pretend that you don’t see the eyes, red and shimmering, from the shadows in your closet.  

“go to bed suguru,” you sigh, before lightly pressing onto your puncture marks, hissing when they’re still tender. “it’s morning.” 

“i could fix that… if you’d let me.” he responds, the hinges of your door creaking ever so slightly before you gasp and rush to close them before the light bleeds in. 

“don’t!” you snap, hand trembling, “don’t… you dare.” 

you crouch down, before slotting your pinky into the smallest slit you can with the door still providing adequate coverage. before long, his cold finger entangles with yours and you smile. 

“by the way babe, when are we moving?” he jokes and when your eyes finally adjust to the dark, you can see him stretch his limbs, hands entangling with your hanging clothing. “it’s pretty cramped in here not gonna lie.” 

“well… i put in that application a few weeks ago and they did get back to me… so soon. we just need to go through the final steps.” you reply, fighting the urge to crawl into that small space with him and sleep the day off. 

when it comes to suguru, you’d do anything and everything, from the hairs on your head to the tips of your toes, you pledged yourself to him fully. 

“gonna go to work?” he asks and you nod, albeit with a pout. he snickers when he sees your expression, “aw, don’t cry. i’ll be right here.” 

you bite your lip, trying your best not to draw blood because you know. you know that suguru will always be right there, whenever you need him. 

you made sure of it. 

-

his name was choso. you remember the night you met him after a round of drinks at the bar. he was nice, if not a bit quiet, and loved to talk about his siblings. suguru and satoru talked aimlessly with shoko while you made new friends. it was a fun little past time. 

you don’t remember how you left the bar or how he even convinced you to follow him out. your mind muggy as you followed him, like a moth to a flame, down a back alley before you finally snapped to your senses and shoved him off before he could make a move. it wasn’t until you saw the razor sharp pearly whites of his teeth that you stopped. 

you asked him what he was, but he simply shrugged, asking, “have you ever dreamt about being saved from someone or something?” 

you nodded, of course you did. everyone has. 

“then that’s me. something you can dream about.”

it was a cryptic message, but a message you got nonetheless. choso was not of the day, flourishing under the midnight sky. but for some reason, he wasn’t necessarily scary. in the small amount of time you had spent, he seemed to listen to you and your woes. gotten to know a little bit of your family history, and perhaps decided you would do better with his. 

you remember hearing suguru’s panic laced voice calling out for you and you spun around to call back out. turning back, choso was gone. with a hand placed on your shoulder you were pulled into a tight embrace. 

“where were you?” suguru asks, nearly crushing you in the heat of his body, “almost lost my mind trying to find you.” he glances behind you, eyes scanning the alleyway in search of something or someone. 

“honestly… i don’t even know how i got out here,” you mumbled into his shoulder, hands trailing the familiar sensation of his clothing. “can we go home?” 

“yeah, i’ll just let gojo-“ 

“no!” you exclaimed, the uneasiness in your stomach now palpable, as you balled your fists into the fabric of his shirt, “let’s go now, please.” 

he blinks, before nodding, “okay, yeah, okay. let’s go home.” he presses a kiss to your forehead, almost like a seal of protection, before he’s throwing his arm around you and walking you home. 

you don’t ever recall meeting toji fushiguro. it was just another night out underneath flickering street lights, outside the same bar where you met choso, the street familiar yet empty. your husband smoked into the evening air, the scent wafting over and tickling your nose. 

“no offense, satoru, but i didn’t listen to a single thing you just said.” he stated, lips curled up into a smirk with the cigarette dangling between his fingers. 

“good,” satoru snorts, before glancing at you, “i wasn’t asking for their opinion anyway.” 

you feign ignorance, perking up and asking, “hm? what were we talking about?” 

“man the two of you are so fucking annoying.” he whines, head hung back as you both laugh. 

“care for a third opinion?” a voice asks and you gasp, jumping back. 

the man was tall, handsome, with dark hair and a scar on his lip, wearing a simple outfit of a tee and sweatpants. he seemed otherworldly as well, just like choso. maybe, it was the aura he exuded, more like the lack of, but it set your hairs up on end. 

suguru was quick to pull you behind him as your fingers instantly grabbed onto his shirt. 

“don’t really care for a stranger’s opinion,” satoru drawls, glancing over the tips of his sunglasses. but you can read his body easily, a culmination of friendship over the years. it was screaming: danger. 

“c’mon, don’t be like that. why don’t we introduce ourselves then? i’m toji.” he said, sticking his hand out for a handshake. but neither satoru nor suguru moved to grab it, instead they tensed, waiting. 

“suguru.” satoru whispered, a command with only one word. he understood exactly what it meant. you don’t remember suguru being able to run so fast, the force from his pull almost knocking the air out of you. nor do you remember satoru being able to fight so efficiently. 

you do remember suguru hiding you away and making you wait, even when you tried to hold onto him, he assured you it’d be fine and made you wait. but seconds ticked into minutes, long, monotonous minutes that made the pit of uneasiness in your stomach bloom into a festering bouquet of chrysanthemums. 

“suguru?” you called, stepping out into the dreary moonlight. no response. 

“satoru?” you tried again, quietly walking back towards the area they were in originally. it’s strange how quickly the night changes, how suddenly the flickering street lights aren’t an annoyance but one of your only sources of comfort, as if the dark can swallow you. 

“suguru,” you call out again, voice teetering on a breakdown and eyes scanning the desolate street.  “please res-“ 

you stop suddenly, the sickening squelch of something warm pooling beneath your feet halts you. you feel sick as you start to take in shallow breaths, eyes following the stream of ichor until it reaches its source.

suguru. 

you remember dragging his lifeless body down that familiar back alley. knowing that anyone would be able to see that trail of blood and find you. the darkness of that alley covered you, looming over you like a guardian, while the scent of trash almost, almost, covered the sharp tinge of iron that permeated the air.  

you propped suguru up against the wall as best you could, your body still thrumming with adrenaline. “just gimme a sec, okay?” you mumbled through tears, knowing that he couldn’t hear you. “i’ll figure it out, just like you always do.” 

you’re not sure why you were compelled to scream out that name, but maybe it was because in your dreams, he appeared when you least expected him too. 

“choso!” you screamed, waiting for a brief moment before you filled your lungs with air once more and tried again. “choso!” 

nothing. 

choso!

still nothing. 

and when nothingness almost consumed you, taking you into it’s ghostly clutches, you felt it: the sudden heaviness in the air. 

you feel like you screamed for hours, the name tumbling off your tongue and into the moonlit air like a siren song. just a little less pretty. in reality, it was probably only a few minutes before the brunette arrived, dark rimmed eyes and all. your new guardian “angel”. 

“he looks pretty bad if you ask me.” he started, already crouching down to your level, before reaching up to brush the red coated strands away from suguru’s face. “looks pretty dead.” 

“fix it.” you whispered, continuing even after choso shot you a look. “fucking fix him.” 

“what makes you think i can do that?” 

and in that moment, you feel compelled to tell him about the dreams that you’ve been having lately. the ones where he’s in them, beckoning you to stay under his protection. call for me and i’ll be there. 

but you keep it simple, too pressed for time. “you’re in my dreams, right?” you answer. 

he’s quiet, face softening as he mulls over your words. “good to know.” his eyes wander over to the crimson trail, that bleeds from the streetlamps to your waiting spot. “he’ll probably find you.” 

“toji?” you ask and he nods, “i don’t even know why he’s after us.” 

“he’s not after you, he’s after him.” he says, cupping suguru’s face, dribbles of blood falling from his mouth, and you twitch, almost reaching out to snatch his hand away, “he’s never liked sorcerers.” 

“sorcery…?” you mumble, glancing once more at your lifeless husband. 

but you’ve never heard that word, believing that magic cannot exist, that what you saw could not be explained so easily. there is no magic, only reality, and what is this but such painful, excruciating reality that sucks the air from your lungs and the color from your eyes.

choso dodges the question, “well then. let’s get out of here.” before he places a palm on the back of your neck, sending you back off to dream. 

there’s a voice that pulls him out of the light. low and drumming, it snaps him back into the present and out of his stupor. he sits up, scrambling to make sense of just where he is and who is talking to him. the bed he’s in is similar to a hospital bed, although the white sheets are now stained red. 

“… stay out of the sunlight, feed only when you’re hungry, animal blood counts, it just doesn’t taste that good,” choso continues listing things off, not taking into the account the shock etched so firmly into suguru’s face. “you can feed on them and if they ever wanna turn, let me know, i’ll teach you how to do it.” 

suguru whips his head around, spotting you sitting in a chair with blood covered and bruised knees, the sweat and tears now dried on your face. you glance up at him, giving a little wave and a tired smile. he notes the dried blood that seems to be caked even under your fingers. 

“what the fuck did you do to them?” 

“you mean, what did i do to you?” the brunette retorts. “you wanted to stay together, right? now you can.” he answers, crossing his arms and leaning back against his desk. but suguru’s not sure if he’s asking him or you, the one who smells so much sharper and sweeter than he remembers. you also smell of blood. so much blood that he can hear it coursing through you with each thump of your heartbeat. 

and like a moth to a flame, you stand on wobbly knees, the pads of your feet hitting the floor in sluggish steps as you pad over and throw yourself onto your lover. 

“don’t be mad at me,” you whisper, your eyelids fluttering as you try to fight back your tears. “i thought i could figure things out like you always do… because i always rely on you, right? i was too scared to be alone.” 

he’s so cold now and you’re so unbearably warm, the perfect juxtaposition of your souls. although he doesn’t need to, he takes a deep breath, before pulling you into his embrace. 

“you’re cold, sugu.” you mumble, yet you press harder, deeper into his embrace. 

“is that a turn off?” he jokes because he can’t be mad at you, not now and not ever. and any fragments of anger always dissipate like a puff of smoke. you giggle, before finally giving in and crying, digging your nails into his stiff skin. you cry until you can’t anymore, going limp and falling asleep in his arms. 

suguru’s gaze shifts upwards, as he holds you protectively, one arm wrapped firmly around your lower back, the other on the back of your head, fingers laced in your hair. 

“so, no introductions?” he asks, trying to be friendly, although the intonation in his voice betrays him. it’s first time meeting such a strange man, who can blame him? 

certainly not choso, who responds in turn, “my bad. you can call me choso. i fixed you up on their behalf.” 

“and satoru?” he asks, scanning the room to see if he can find the familiar white tufts of hair. 

“is fine,” choso replies, before jutting a finger out towards you, “they made sure to cover all the bases.” 

suguru shifts you in his hold, pressing a kiss to your forehead, that familiar seal of protection once again placed within your being. but also, as thanks for trying to keep everyone safe.

“then, where is he?” he asks while the other sighs and points over to another bed in the corner. dark eyes follow and the familiar tufts of silver hair peek immediately confirm it’s satoru. 

“he’s gonna wake up soon too. i’ll fill him in on the details.” before suguru can reply he’s cut off, “you should go soon, before the sun rises.” 

“am i actually a vampire?” 

“vampire, dracula, nosferatu, the undead. you can choose whatever you want.” 

“… i see.” he pauses, glancing back at satoru’s sleeping form before deciding he’ll be fine on his own. “we’ll be going then. …thanks.” 

he places his feet on the floor, still wearing his shoes from earlier and starts to walk off, cradling you in his arms. 

“when you feed, geto, don’t overdo it. or they will die.” 

he stops mid-step, gripping you tighter in his embrace, his brow furrowed, before finally walking off. 

you really should’ve taken a photo for satoru of the realtor’s perplexed expression when only you showed up to a three bedroom home, insistent on your need for space. 

when you do get that house, situated so nicely in the countryside, away from the buzz of the city, you think about what life would be like if you changed. if you no longer saw the sunlight. but you shake your head, pressing your fingers up to your neck once more, rubbing over the now scabbing indentations. 

you know suguru can’t feast on you forever as your body ages and his does not. but the thought of him feeding on someone else makes your stomach turn. 

“woow,” satoru hums, breaking you out of your trance as he takes in the new home, “not bad! not bad at all.” 

you smile, “thanks, satoru. i wanted to make sure you had your own space too.” 

“whats the third room for?” he asks, peeking his head in as he saunters around the new home. 

“office space.” you reply, “remember i work from home?” 

he nods, replying, “ooh, makes sense,” before he’s suddenly in front of you. his once crystalline blue eyes, now a deep crimson. “can i get a quick snack? i’m hungry.” 

“always so insatiable, satoru.” you tsk, rolling your eyes, but hold up your wrist anyway.

“not my fault you just so happen to be the best tasting human around.” he says, smiling against the thin skin of your wrist. 

luckily for you, he’s fast, the pain is almost nonexistent beyond the prick of his fangs but you still shut your eyes, waiting for it to be over. and when it’s over, gojo thanks you for the meal with a large bow before leaving to settle in his room. 

it’s so different from suguru who plans out the days that he’ll feed, keeping you in his clutches for what seems like hours as he sips away at your blood, making sure to maximize the experience.

the blood loss always makes you so dizzy, dizzy and pliant. he likes to watch over you afterwards, splayed against the sheets, fingertips running over your veins as if he’s painting over them in hues of ice. 

in your half-conscious state you never notice the furrow of his brow as he contemplates turning you every single time. you won’t last forever, too fragile, too soft, too alive. and suguru believes that forever only exists if you are in it as well. he asks you one night, while the house is almost too still, if you’d stay with him forever. 

“… of course…” you murmur, head dazed and body heavy, “always, sugu.” 

“even if you lose yourself?” 

“i can’t… lose myself if i’m with you.” you smile contently, reaching out to him with one shaky hand. 

“then how would you feel…” he asks, fingertips snaking up the veins of your neck, “if i turned you?” you shiver under his touch, eyelids fluttering not only at the sensation but also the low timbre of his voice. 

“turn me?” you mumble, pressing your hand against his, encouraging him to continue carressing your skin, “like… choso did with you?” 

he grins, albeit a small one and nods. hand now exploring the curves of your face, “just like that.” and while his hand is ice cold, it sears your skin with his touch, a testament to how deeply you’ve fallen. 

you pout, finally relaying your fears, “won’t you feed on others though?” 

“you want me to starve?” he jokes, still running his touch over you. 

“let’s go vegan.” you hum, your consciousness starting to drift until the thrum of his fingers. 

with your eyes closed you don’t catch the expression on his face, but you catch his laugh, drifting down into your ear. “i don’t know if that’s how it works, honey.” 

“animals...” you mumble, breaths becoming deeper with each passing second. “like humans… but diet… is how choso… explained it right?” 

he smiles, letting you fall deep into sleep. he keeps his hand intertwined with yours, knowing that even in dreams you hold onto him as if you were awake. he thinks you look so beautiful in the moonlight, better even than the moon or the stars themselves. 

and he is so sure, that forever cannot exist, if you’re not in it. 

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto x reader #geto x you #suguru geto x reader #suguru x reader #pibby writing

[buckleymess]

Glitter - Robin Buckley

Summary: Birthday sex with Robin. Follow-up to this small fic but you’ll be fine even without reading that one.

Warning: SMUT obviously

Words: 3,3k

Note: There are some errors in this one. I have not proofread it. It’s too late. I need sleep and needed to get this off my chest. Take it now or perhaps come back another day to see if it’s fixed. You do you.

_________________________________________________________

The hotel shower feels even smaller than what it seemed like from the outside and you can no longer blame her for opting to shower without you. You run your hands over your face as the water falls down on you. Robin brushes her teeth right behind the shower curtain and you can’t help but laugh a bit when the gargling noise she makes gets interrupted by choking.

“Are you alright?” You ask through the running water, tilting your head a bit to see her reflection in the mirror.

“Nearly drowned but I’ve never been better” Robin chirps right after and flashes you a toothy grin, showing off her pearls.

She hums out the melody of Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now while she waits for you to be done. “Fucking hell,” she suddenly exclaims, carefully checking herself in the mirror. “I’m never getting this thing off, am I? I could swear that I’ve tried to scrub it away but that shit just sticks to your skin like-... I still look as if a unicorn threw up on me or something.“

“That’s the price you pay for burying your chest in the cleavage of a person who goes by the name Glitter Jugs.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but when a 6’2, Amazonian goddess offers you a special type of hug. You do not say no. That would be just rude.”

“Stupid, too. I mean, you’ve seen her... that chest is going to follow me in my dreams ‘til the day I die. How did she make it look /that/ real is just behind me,” Robin rambles on while you chuckle.

“Follow you in your dreams, huh?” You repeat amusedly. “Good to know. Good to know.”

“Yeah. In my dreams,” Robin confirms simply. “In reality, all I need is about... this much.” She raises her hand for you to see it in the mirror. Her hands are curled up slightly as if she’s cupping an imaginary breast.

You just turn the water off when the same hand suddenly appears right next to you, searching for your chest.

A content ‘uh-huh’ leaves her mouth when she gets a good hold of you. “See. Fits right in. As long as I have my hands about this full, I am a happy woman,” she concludes. “How much longer are you going to take anyway? The TV in the bedroom is not working and waiting there just like that will be boring.”

You stop her from raising any further complains by pushing the curtain aside and coming face to face to with her again.

“Would you mind?”

Robin blinks at you a bit before her eyes go wide and reaches for your towel, passing it to you with a quiet apology. “Here you go, love.”

“I meant the hand on my boob, Rob.”

Almost as if she wants to make sure that her hand is /really/ there she gives it a little squeeze. A cheerful smile spreads on her face, and she nods her head. “Yeah, right.” She drops her hand down but she doesn’t turn her eyes away, simply watching you while you wrap the towel around your wet body. “I was just trying to prove my case.”

As you make your way out of the shower, she needs to step back a little until her back is pretty much pressed against the door.

Turns out she really wasn’t lying about the amount of glitter she had all around. The tiny silver pieces are still sparkling on her chest, neck and face. Some of them have fallen a bit lower to her shoulders and arms that were kept safe by her long sleeves earlier.

You can already tell that these are going to be a pain to deal with later, but it is still quite the sight for sore eyes.

She always is.

“I look like a fool, I know it.” She reads the silence and the lasting look the wrong way.

Shaking your head, you step forward to her, gently pulling on the bottom hem of her towel to get her closer to you. “Not even in the slightest, promise,” you hum out before kissing her. “This may as well be the thing that is going to follow /me/ in my dreams forever,” you giggle against her lips.

She locks her arms around your neck as she kisses you back and her body arches against you when you slip one hand under the towel. Your fingers now grazing the bare skin on her back.

“Luckily for you, I can get some glitter to brighten up your day any time. All you gotta do is ask.”

You grin at her and peck the tip of her nose. “I’ll keep that one in mind.” Letting go off her, you reach out to open the door, but Robin’s arms stay put. She just holds you, bright blue eyes examining your face up close as the two of you stumble back into the room, almost tripping over the doorstep.

Her laughter seems to fill the entire room, and you can’t help but join. The pain of your stubbed toe somehow disappearing when faced with her joyful expression. The morning is approaching and neither one of you has gotten any sleep in the last 24 hours, and yet she’s somehow beaming.

Step by step, you move further into the room together and after a couple of more steps you give in. Your arms wrap around her waist again and lets out a content sigh. “About time,” she comments, which prompts you to squeeze her a bit tighter before rocking her from side to side. Almost automatically, the playful rocking eases into a much gentler one and within the next couple of seconds you are pretty much just swaying on your feet.

As if there was not enough of dancing earlier tonight.

“Lookin’ in your eyes I see a paradise...,” you start out quietly, the corner of your mouth twitching a bit before she groans and throws her head back.

“Oh no, not this one. I can’t get it out of my head ever since we’ve left,” Robin complains dramatically.

“I figured that much, yeah,” you chuckle and then proceed to inform her that she had burnt the song into your brain as well when she was humming it out in the bathroom.

“I did not do that.” She argues resolutely but the longer you stare at each other, the more you see her confidence in that statement to break. “Whatever...,” she decides in the end, literally waving it away with one of her hands, only to start purring out the melody right after.

Getting do dance with her nice and proud in public was undoubtedly a fun experience, but private dances like these would always remain your favourite. No matter if they happened to the sound of music coming through the radio, or your girlfriend’s mouth.

Smiling faces just inches away from each other, curious soft hands holding, grazing and squeezing the other... Life really cannot get much better than this. You are sure of it.

At least until the moment when she turns around in your arms and pressed her back against yours. She leans back and kisses the corner of your mouth. “I’m so fucking lucky to have you.” Her voice is low when she says it and the words come out sounding raspier than they usually would.

You bow your head to kiss her neck. “I guess you really are,” you agree playfully, and she gasps, giving you a little nudge with her elbow.

“I feel pretty fucking happy to have you too, don’t you worry,” you mutter against her skin before you start kissing her again. Her skin feels so soft under your lips and your tongue. Your mouth leaves a small, glistening trail behind as you move your head to kiss other places, this time lower to her collarbone.

She leans into your body while your hands start to slowly slide down from her waist and over her lap to her thighs. You rub your thumbs over the hem of the towel for a while, just barely brushing against the bare skin that is below.

No one is dancing now. No one can be bothered by shifting their hips to the rhythm of a song that is no longer playing.

Finally, your hands dare to touch her under the towel slightly and Robin quickly drops her hands down to meet yours, encouraging you to venture even further up. You can hear her breathing turning heavier as you stroke her delicate inner-thighs under her guidance.

To your surprise, she starts to remove one of your hands from under the towel and begins to guide you all the way back up, this time even higher to her chest. You follow her wishes and squeeze her breast before you move your hand to the other. Her nipples are poking you through the fabric and you sigh into her skin.

While you glide your tongue over her neck, your fingers dig into the tissue of her thighs and her chest, and you can’t really stop your hips before they naturally push a bit forward.

Robin whimpers quietly and then grinds her back right against you. She flashes you a little smile when you glance up at her and your glances meet before her lips fall ever so slightly apart again.

She reaches her hand behind you; her fingers just barely brush over your towel before they fall down to your ass. There you can actually feel them as she grips on your asscheek and secures you in place, keeping you as close to her body as possible.

Out of nowhere, she drops the hand that was guiding you around her thighs too and instead pushes the towel up a bit. Just enough so that she can touch her clit. She moans right next to your ear and for a second you struggle to do much else than to just breath her intoxicating scent while your hips press against the other. Lightly, you run your hand up her thigh to replace hers.

“Fuck.” Her voice trembles as she speaks out, reacting to the pace that your fingers set on her.

Nipping at her skin, you make it up to her ear. The gentle kiss you place right below it doesn’t match the quick circles you are drawing on her clit, causing her to cry out. Your heart is racing in your chest, and you can feel that hers is the same way. Her breast rising heavily against your arm with every breath she takes.

Robin turns around in your arms slightly to be able to put her free hand to the back of your neck. She searches for your lips, eagerly kissing you in between the soft curses she lets out.  

Her eyes pierce you with a glare when you suddenly stop, and she whines when you drag your fingers down over her wet slits. Her core feels so warm as you stroke her, her wetness generously covering your fingers so that you can slide them inside her with ease. She tenses slightly against you when you push them in. The kiss she was just leaning in for again being completely forgotten the moment your thumb finds her clit again. She attempts to move her ass against your front for a while longer but as you curl your fingers inside her, she simply can’t.

The hotel room that was filled with laughs and quiet pop tunes just a little while is now full of the obscene wet noise caused by your fingers buried deep inside her, luring her to cum. She moans right in front of your face, her eyes half-closed in ecstasy and her freckled cheeks burning red.

A delighted cry slips past her lips as you feel her walls tighten around your fingers. Her body collapsing into yours due to her shaking feet.

“You know I can’t take this when I’m standing up,” she breathes out heavily once the strong sensation passes over, closing her eyes for a moment.

You kiss her lips softly, smiling. “Seems to me like you took it just right.” Robin flashes you a smile in return. When you pull your hand out, you can feel her juices spilling out. Her eyes widen as you step away from her for a bit, your hands guiding her to turn around to face you completely.

A little smile is playing on your face as you get down on your knees in front of her. You pull down the towel that was already just barely hanging around her body anyway. It lands on the chair nearby and you look up at her when you move your head closer her thighs. You peck the front a few times before you kiss your way to her inner thighs, your hands running over her ass and the back of her thighs.

When you drag your tongue over her skin, licking of the mess that’s running her thigh, Robin moans above you. She tangles her long fingers in your hair and gasps when you flick your tongue over her cunt before you move to the other leg. Once they are both clean with just the trace of your saliva glistening on them, you place you tongue nice and flat on her soaked core.

“Oh my...,” she starts out but doesn’t finish her sentence as a heavy sigh forces its way out at the feeling of you dragging your tongue all over her slits, lapping at the wonderful wet heat. You moan out happily against her when she pushes her hips forwards slightly. Her clit rubs against your nose, and you realise how soaked you are yourself when she starts to grind her hips against you. You don’t stop her or try to direct her movements at all, allowing her to use you the way she wants and needs.

It is her birthday after all. Though she is not the only one who’s receiving quite the gift. You taste her and feel her all over your mouth and your tongue, and from where you are kneeling between her legs, looking up at her you do have the best view anyone could ever imagine.

Her thrusts turn more vigorous and her whimpers more desperate, informing you that her climax is near. When it actually comes, you feel her thighs tighten under your fingertips and you keep working your tongue all throughout her high.

You barely get to clean up your chin when she’s pulling you back up onto your feet a moment later.

She cups your face, gently stroking your cheeks with her thumbs before she leans forward and kisses you. There’s no way that she cannot taste herself in your mouth when her tongue slips past your lips, passionately rubbing against yours. Robin lets go off your face and takes the towel off from around your body, simply letting it fall down onto the floor before she pushes into you so that you have to step back, ushering you towards the bed.

The last kiss she gives you before pulling away is a gentle peck. She pokes her fingers into your chest, reminding you to sit down. As soon as you do, Robin is already sitting on your lap. One of her hands sneaks in between your legs and she smirks when feeling how wet you’ve become for her. She gathers some of it on her fingers and then looks at you when she raises them up to her mouth to get a taste of you yourself. It feels like even just the sight of this makes you spill out some more.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who’s been having a pretty good time,” she muses after sucking those fingers clean.

You begin to open your mouth to say something, but she stops you by pressing the same fingers against your lips. She strokes your bottom lip and then flicks it a little before she makes you lie back.

Your whole body feels like it is on fire and the moment when she moves to hover above you, you do forget to breath for a second. The ceiling light is right above her, making it look as if she’s wearing a halo and all the glitter only emphasizes the look of a possibly ethereal being. For all you know, she might as well could be.

Robin kisses your chest slowly, savouring and nipping at every inch of skin that she can. Her hands run over your stomach and your side so lightly that it almost tickles.  

You feel silly for moaning out at someone so simple as that but after everything, even the feeling of her sucking on the sensitive skin near your nipple makes your head spin. When you look at her, one corner of her mouth is turned up into a smug smirk.

She licks her way to your other breast, gently pinching your skin when she gets to the centre. Some hair falls into her face and your quickly reach out to brush it away. She’s way too pretty to not be looked at. Especially when she circles her tongue around your nipple before taking it into her mouth, sucking on it hard and then pulling at it slightly with her teeth.

You run your hand over her back, nails digging into her skin when she sucks on your skin a bit too harsh. Not that you mind it. There’s nothing she could do right now that would leave you upset... You ache for her. Your heart is beating so loud that you can almost hear it in your ears.

Suddenly, without any type of warning, and just when you were expecting to suck on your breast again, Robin moves away. She moves lower and makes herself comfortable between your legs, peppering a bunch of kisses to your groin and your front. Some of the more innocent than the others. Now when she is so close, only inches away from where you need to feel her the most, the thrill seems almost unbearable.

“Please,” you speak out in a shaky voice, causing her to look up at you with a glint in her eye.

It is a good day though; she doesn’t tease you or make you beg. Instead, she dives right in. You gasp, your back lifting slightly off the mattress as her lips close around your clit. She sucks on it hard before releasing it and flicking her tongue over it just a few times. When she hums against your core, you can feel the vibrations almost all over your body. She licks over your lips, slowly dragging it over your pulsing heat before her tongue grazes your clit again.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, and your hips involuntarily buck up into Robin’s mouth. The hands that were stroking over your thighs gently now get a proper grip on the flesh so that you cannot easily repeat the action again. If she wanted you to stay still though, she shouldn’t have allowed herself to groan into you the way she did. It only made you want to thrust against her more.

“Robin.” Her name doesn’t come out as anything more than a desperate whine. She doesn’t fully give in, but she gives you a bit more space to move all until the moment when your body freezes and you fall apart with her name and couple of curses on your lips.

When she looks up at you, her lips are glistening all because of you. The smile she sends you is so pure and angelic that it almost looks inappropriate given that she has your release all over her mouth and her chin.

She drops her head onto your thigh and keeps her eyes on you while you try to get your breathing in check again.

“You know that it’s not polite to cuss like that, right?” She comments playfully, referring back to the little hopeless outburst you had merely just a minute ago.

“Fuck off.”

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