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#and finally the realization that he is so utterly alone :(
nadvs · 2 days
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both sinners (part three) (end)
pairing drugdealer! rafe cameron x female reader
rating explicit 18+
content warning drug use
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summary as a stripper, you’re well aware that someone you know could walk into the club at any moment. when rafe is your newest customer, you’re actually glad to see a familiar face.
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You stagger backwards, hitting the table behind you, as you watch what’s happening in front of you in disbelief.
Rafe is crazed, punching the man who touched you over and over and over again.
“What now, bitch?” he shouts over the music. “Try and touch her now!”
One of the bouncers comes rushing towards the booth and holds Rafe back. It’s a struggle, with Rafe overpowering him and getting one more punch in, before a second bouncer helps to constrain him.
You watch them push him away. Rafe looks to meet your eyes, his chest heaving and his mouth ajar, as he gets pushed out of the club.
You blink in incredulity, unsure of what to do, until you finally go backstage into the dressing room to regain your composure.
You’ve never seen someone so angry over something someone else did to you.
You know what happens to guys that get thrown out. Rafe won’t be let back in for at least the night. It’s possible he doesn’t get let in ever again.
You pull your phone out of your locker and text him: i’m off at 11. we can meet somewhere?
You go back out onto the stage, looking for another customer to make your money and try to shake off what just happened, at least for the rest of your shift.
After work, you meet Rafe at the address he texted you after he was kicked out. He booked a room at a five-star hotel.
“You know, you didn’t have to start swinging,” you tell him when he meets you in the lobby, a coy smile on your face. “We have bouncers for that.”
“They’re obviously doing a great fucking job,” he snips sarcastically. “He grabbed you twice.”
“And I slapped him twice,” you reply. He shakes his head in irritation, taking your hand to lead you to the elevators. Thinking about watching you get touched like that makes the anger swirl in him all over again.
“Not hard enough.”
“So protective,” you tease.
Rafe pushes the top button. You smirk. Of course he got the penthouse suite.
“You realize if they remember what you look like, they might never let you back in, right?” you say as the elevator doors close, leaving you completely alone in the enclosed space.
“Strip at another club, then,” he rasps, leaning down and dragging his hand off of yours to squeeze your ass.
“You think it’s that easy?” you ask, looking up at him through your lashes.
“What place wouldn’t want you?” Rafe asks, gripping harder as he pulls you against him, his lips an inch away from yours.
The way he looks at you makes you feel like he’s utterly obsessed with you. It’s addictive.
The elevator doors open and he slaps your ass to usher you out.
The suite he booked is massive, covered in marble surfaces and gold decor. Rafe leads you through the foyer to the bedroom, where the city lights glimmer behind floor-to-ceiling windows. The place is exquisite.
“Couldn’t you have found something nicer, baby?” you joke, turning to look at him.
He scoffs a chuckle as he closes the distance, hands already up your skirt. He’s been turned on since you stepped on stage hours ago, imagining how hard he’s going to fuck you.
Rafe kneads your ass before roughly pulling the skirt up to your waist. He thinks back to the way the sheer fabric of the dress you wore on stage hugged your body under the club’s lights.
“You know what?” he says.
“What?” Your breath hitches as his hand presses up against your middle.
“I’m gonna buy you more of those slutty little outfits.” His voice is low. “So while you’re dancing up there, you think about who bought you what you’re wearing and who fucks you.”
By the way his cock is hardening against you and the way his breath is spreading on your skin in shallow pants, you can tell he gets off on spoiling you.
You lick your lips and tilt your head, nudging your nose against his.
“I’m the only one fucking you, right?” he mutters, his fingers pressing harder. You love how frequently he likes confirming it.
“Why would I need anyone else?” you reply, loving how you can rile him up.
When his fingers spread your lips apart, you exhale shakily.
“Only I can play with this pussy, yeah?” He rubs over your wetness and finds your clit, making your knees weak.
“Fuck,” you whisper. “Yes.”
“You gonna dance for me, baby?” Rafe rasps. “I’ll give you more tonight than your customers make in a year.”
You nod, words escaping you. You feel him unzip your skirt, the fabric dropping around your feet. You pull your top over your head, left in just a bra and panties, and his eyes take you in as if it’s the first time he’s seeing you.
“Damn,” he huffs. It’s unbelievable how much you turn him on. The fact that you know how sexy you are, dancing every night for men who you don’t let touch you. Only he can touch you. “How are you real?”
You giggle, regaining some composure.
“Sit down,” you say, looking at the big bed.
“Over there,” Rafe tells you, pulling you to follow him. He takes you to the bathroom, where you spot a baggie of coke beside the jacuzzi.
Once you strip down between hard, wet kisses, you sink into the hot, bubbling water. You straddle him and he gazes at you through heavy lids.
“You want a bump?” Rafe asks, tilting his head towards the coke. He already took a hit before you arrived.
You nod, craving the feeling of elation the coke gives you. He grips your waist with one hand while he reaches for the baggie with the other.
After he makes a line on the edge of the tub for you, you lean over and inhale the powder, giving him an opportunity to palm your tits.
He loves the way your skin glistens from the water as you settle back on his lap. Your head is swimming with euphoria as you kiss him, his fingers rubbing over your nipples. You start to writhe, rolling your hips and giving him a lap dance.
You dip your hand under the water’s surface, gripping his firm length, prompting him to angle his head back with a groan over the sound of the tub’s jets, his voice echoing through the room.
You can’t wait any longer. You perch up to slowly sink onto him, his tip dipping into your entrance.
“Fuck,” Rafe huffs. Your hands are on his shoulders as you take your time, breathing through the pressure of his cock stretching you.
“Good girl,” he groans. “You can take it all. I know you can.”
You bite your lip as you finally reach his base, dizzy from how deep he hits you, enveloped by hot water.
You start to rock on him and his mouth locks around the peak of your breast. He loves the feeling of pure sin while he fucks you, both of you high and rolling.
You rake his hair back, leaning so your chest presses against his forehead as you start to bounce on him, panting in his ear.
Rafe’s hands curve around your ass as you roll on top of him, the water splashing as you quicken your pace. You start moaning and he squeezes you harder, his face contorting in pleasure.
You moan in his ear as you come to a fast orgasm, clenching around him in flutters. He hardens inside of you soon after, cumming in rhythmic throbs.
“Goddamn,” he groans, thinking back to all the parties he noticed you at. “I can’t believe this is what I was missing.”
“What do you mean?”
“I didn’t know you were this much fun.”
You giggle and the sight of your smile makes him smile back.
“Now you know,” you say with a shrug.
You’re absolutely spent when you lie on the plush bed, body bare and wet, not bothering to cover up with a towel. Rafe loves the sight of you like this and he leans down, smoothing over your cheek with his hand as he kisses you.
“We’re getting room service,” he murmurs. “What do you want?”
“The most expensive thing on the menu,” you joke. He’s unfazed, pacing to the phone surely to order exactly that.
“Wait,” you laugh. “Let me see the menu.”
Half-naked and high, you and Rafe sit on top of the bed, the television on in the background, eating at midnight.
It must be the coke and the sex and the delicious five-star food, but you get the impulse to ask what you’ve been wondering all night.
“We both know you’re the only guy I’m seeing,” you say, “but am I the only girl?”
“Obviously,” he says simply.
“It’s not so obvious,” you say with a laugh.
“Now it is,” Rafe says. You appreciate his direct approach.
“Why do you deal?” you ask. Seeing his house just once would tell anyone he comes from a wealthy family. He doesn’t exactly need to be selling drugs.
Blue eyes meet yours and he smirks.
“Why, you wanna go into business?” he quips.
“I think I make enough dating you,” you respond with a laugh. Rafe likes how exclusive it sounds. Dating. Meaning you’re his only.
“I like making my own money,” he says honestly. “And I like having coke around when I want it.”
“You’re a no bullshit type of guy.” Rafe appreciates the compliment.
“Why do you strip?” he asks.
“Why, you wanna go into business?” you echo.
“Shut the fuck up,” he laughs, nudging you. You decide you’ve eaten enough, letting the gentle push shift you to lie on your back again.
“You’re hot. You’d do great as a stripper,” you tease, raising your arms above your head and sighing. He takes in the vision of you lying like this, relaxed and joking around with him, and he realizes he hasn’t felt this happy in a while.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Rafe says.
“It’s great money,” you reply. “Especially if you have a rich drug dealer obsessed with you. It’s funny because you’re the only customer I’d dance for for free.”
He laughs again and you look over at him, sitting up shirtless, and smile. It feels like something out of a movie. A drug dealer and his stripper girlfriend laughing together in an extravagant hotel room.
Rafe moves the paper containers off the bed and sinks between your legs, laying his head on your chest.
You run your hands over his firm, warm shoulders and sigh at the sensation he gives you. He seems to live for the next 24 hours only, and so do you, and this is why this works so well.
He gives you a wad of cash before you part ways.
Your next shift is a few nights after your time in the hotel and Rafe is relieved the bouncers don’t recognize him. He settles in a cushioned chair in the dark club, knowing if they denied him entry, he wouldn’t take no for an answer and it would get ugly.
His heart skips when you walk out in stage wearing a black lacy set he bought you. You drift around the pole like a goddess, slowly undressing, making him hard in seconds.
Rafe looks away when you approach a man sitting in a booth. He might break someone’s jaw if he watches you dance on them, especially if they touch you.
He knows your interest in these guys isn’t genuine, remembering how you told him he’s the only one you’d dance for for free. This will just be a shitty part of dating you, and compared to the good parts, he can take this.
A few minutes later, you walk over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey,” you say over the throbbing music. “Thought I should tell you that guy just asked for a private room. Don’t freak out.”
Rafe’s jaw tightens as he takes a pull of his drink. You notice his irritation immediately, leaning over to speak into his ear.
“This is just work,” you say. “I can’t wait to clock out so we can fuck like we did in that hotel room.” His lips quirk up in a smile.
“I’ll break his hands if he tries anything,” he warns. You believe him.
After your shift, you and Rafe head to a party at one of the mansions sitting on the north side of the island.
But instead of leading you to the front door, he pulls you to the dark, empty shoreline, and you can tell by the look on his face that he’s turned on.
“On the beach?” you say, amused.
“You said we’d fuck, didn’t you?”
When you find a place on the sand, the night sky nearly starless, the waves crashing, you pull each other’s bottoms off with fervor.
Rafe’s on top of you, breaths shallow as he nips at your shoulder, guiding himself into you with a hunger deep inside him. It seems the more he has you, the more desperate he gets.
“I was hard all fucking night watching you dance,” he mutters, sinking into you, inch by inch.
“Fuck,” you whisper, tilting your hips, sinking into the sand. “Fuck, that feels good.”
“Who else can do this to you?”
“Nobody,” you answer. “I’m all yours, baby.”
“Yeah, you fucking are,” he says, pulling back and thrusting into you. His hand grips around your neck as he pounds you, claiming you with every slam.
You mean it. You’re his, happily.
After you make your way up to the house party, Rafe pulls you onto his lap the second he finds a seat on the massive balcony facing the darkened beach where you just fucked.
A man comes by asking for a gram and Rafe pulls out his bagged coke, trading it for bills. After the deal, he places a few twenties in your pocket, kissing the side of your neck.
You still feel the sand on your skin as he skims your leg with rough fingertips.
Maybe you’d be ashamed doing this with another man, being paid for sex and getting spoiled and doing drugs and fucking every chance you get.
But with Rafe, the sin is so sweet that it doesn’t feel wrong at all. You’ll happily live in the next 24 hours with him, over and over and over again.
(the end)
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bosbas · 3 days
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Chapter 8: this is falling in love in the cruelest way
series masterlist previous part || next part
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pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 3.4k words
Warnings: period-typical gender roles, heavily going off of book canon, me stirring the pot (im sorry)(no im not), PINING!!!!!!!, anthony being very much in love with his wife
Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?
A/N: guys i'm sorry but this picture is INSANE. the THIGHS??? HELLO? i am looking respectfully.......👁️👁️
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June 5, 1816 – And yesterday, much to this author’s surprise, Lord Barlow reportedly proposed to Lady Montclair! This proposal comes unexpectedly after the Duke’s promiscuity with Miss Barrington at the Bridgerton ball a few weeks ago. Given the fact that Miss Barrington has been compromised, it is incredibly shocking that Lord Arthur Barlow would do something like this in polite society. Luckily, Lady Montclair remains a single woman and swiftly rejected her former beau’s proposal. But this only begs the question: why did the Duke propose? Is Lady Montclair simply too alluring to pass up, or is something else amiss between Lord Barlow and Miss Barrington? 
“Oh, thank God,” muttered Colin under his breath, his eyes quickly scanning Lady Whistledown’s column as he sat on a bench in the garden. 
“What’s that you’re reading, brother?” asked Anthony, ears perking up at Colin’s scandalous language, even if it was just between brothers. 
Colin felt a slight blush forming on his cheeks. He hadn’t realized he was speaking out loud, having been too caught up in the news that you had finally received a proposal from Lord Barlow. It was a lovely day out, and Anthony, Benedict, and Colin were in the gardens of Number 5 Bruton Street after a round of fencing. 
Of course, once Francesca had come outside holding a copy of Whistledown to read in the gazebo, Colin had stolen it out of her hands and abandoned his brothers in favor of catching up on the ton’s happenings. Though no one should have been surprised by his interest, really, given that you were the main topic of most of the gossip sheets nowadays. 
“Nothing,” Colin answered quickly, trying to recover from his blunder. “It’s bizarre how invested one becomes in Whistledown while living here. Is this what every summer is like when one isn’t traveling for half the time?”
“In essence, yes,” answered Benedict, still jabbing at the air with his épée as Anthony stared at him amusedly. “What does she have to say today?”
“Lord Barlow proposed to Lady Montclair yesterday,” said Colin, a slight edge to his voice. “And he looked a sight while doing it, too, apparently.”
Benedict dropped his foil, turning around to fully face Colin with a shocked look on his face. “And what did she say?” he pressed, intrigued about the outcome of this curious development. It was practically unimaginable that the Duke had proposed to you after defiling another lady in the ton, and Benedict hadn't considered him capable. 
Anthony clapped him on the back, smirking at Colin as he did so. “Well, did you not hear the man say, ‘thank God’? Obviously, she said no.”
Colin crossed his arms, immediately defensive. “It wasn’t that obvious! She could have said yes, and my ‘thank God’ could have been because she would’ve finally left me alone. Duchesses have a lot to do; I doubt she’d find the time to be irritating while attending to her duties in the country.”
Benedict and Anthony gave their brother unimpressed looks, watching amusedly as he squirmed under their gaze. 
“I assure you, brother, that there was absolutely no possibility of that being the case,” said Benedict jovially, earning a snort from Anthony. 
But before Benedict could laugh, too, Colin lunged at him, épée in hand as he glared playfully at his brother. Finding himself unarmed, Benedict yelped and ran toward the house, citing a very important painting to attend to before sprinting back inside. 
Turning to Colin, Anthony smiled curiously. “So, it’s true, then? What Daphne said?”
“What did Daphne say?” asked Colin innocently, dreading the conversation that would follow.
“Don’t be daft. That you love Y/N.”
Colin rolled his eyes, letting out an impatient sigh. “I don’t love her; that’s ridiculous, Anthony! A mere two weeks ago, we absolutely despised each other. I hardly think I could love her now.”
But even as he said those words, Colin questioned whether he actually meant them. Could he love you? He hadn’t ever felt this way about anyone, but then again, no one had ever vexed him quite like you. Though lately, he had been finding the line between irritation and fascination to be quite blurred. So blurry, in fact, that he was having trouble seeing a line at all. 
Having clearly overheard part of the conversation, Gregory ran up to his brothers, laughing hysterically as Hyacinth chased him. He stopped and let his sister catch up, smiling evilly at the older Bridgertons “Colin loves who, now?” 
Hyacinth arrived a few moments later, panting heavily. “Y/N, of course,” she stated while trying to catch her breath, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 
“What? What do you mean? Why do say that?” pressed Colin. Why did everyone in his family seem to think that he loved you? Surely they saw the two of you bickering incessantly, right? Your feud was so famous it had even made it to Lady Whistledown’s column. Colin couldn’t understand how anyone could think he had so much affection for you. 
Hyacinth raised an eyebrow at her older brother, unamused. “Colin, I am not an idiot. Though perhaps you might be,” she added brightly. And before Colin could respond, she quickly turned to her eldest brother. “Now, Anthony, could you please tell Gregory to give me back my quill?” she begged.
Gregory, scoffed, glaring at his sister. “I’d only borrowed it for a moment! And I only did so because Hyacinth hid mine! Anthony, she’s being unreasonable,” he whined.
Anthony affectionately patted them both on the head and flashed a faux sympathetic smile. “I rather think both of you are being quite the nuisance right now.” 
At times, Anthony found himself slipping into the role of a father figure to his youngest siblings. It was an unspoken duty he assumed after their father's passing. Yet, it was important to occasionally remind them that he was still their brother.
Hyacinth responded with a frustrated groan, her teeth grinding audibly, thoroughly vexed with her brother. However, the sight of Gregory's smug smile reignited her fury, and she immediately charged at him. Despite being older than Hyacinth, Gregory wasn't foolish enough to underestimate her, and he took off in a panic, screaming as he tried to outpace his deceptively quick sister.
Colin shook his head in amusement as he watched the antics of his youngest siblings. “Were Daphne and I truly like that?”
“Worse,” said Anthony flatly, but he couldn’t mask the warmth and fondness interlaced in his words.
At that, Anthony began to turn back toward the house. “Well, I must be-”
“Wait!” interrupted Colin. He wasn’t entirely sure why he had stopped his brother, other than the fact that he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the possibility that he could love you. You, the person he supposedly hated. The person who certainly hated him. 
But, as always, Anthony was the right person to talk to about this. He would know what to say. Though it was well known that Anthony was completely smitten with his wife, Colin remembered a time when the pair seemed to dislike each other fairly intensely.
After a few moments of charged silence, Colin met Anthony’s expectant gaze. Swallowing his pride, he spoke up. “Purely hypothetically, and simply out of curiosity, when did you fall in love with Kate?”
Anthony smiled, amused. “Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully, putting a hand to his chin. “As long as it's purely out of curiosity,” he teased. “It wasn’t like I simply fell in love with her one day, Colin.”
“Yes, but if you had to pinpoint a moment?” pressed Colin, slightly exasperated. If anything, he needed to know if he had experienced that moment himself.
Anthony’s gaze softened, and he suddenly saw a lot of himself in Colin’s uncertainty and pause when it came to a woman who profusely vexed him. “I found Kate in the library the night after we played Pall Mall for the first time,” he recalled fondly. “We were at Aubrey Hall for the country party and it was raining outside quite loudly, a terrible storm. She was huddled underneath a desk because she was scared of the storm. I very quickly realized I couldn’t hate her anymore. Not properly, anyway. Not when I just wanted to sit on the floor with her and protect her from the storm, and anything else that might come her way.”
His voice had softened as he spoke about his wife, recalling the moment he truly knew there was no way out. Anthony had tried to deny it to himself after, but his protests simply held no conviction after that night. 
“You never told me that,” said Colin thoughtfully, not missing the glint of emotion in his brother’s eyes as he talked about his now-wife. 
“Yes, well, the real challenge was getting her to love me back,” he said, coming out of his musings. “And that didn’t happen for quite some time after that. It was rather premature of me to declare my love for this woman while I supposedly hated her and was still technically courting her sister.”
It was truly a wonder that he and Kate were married now. But when it was meant to be, it was meant to be, Anthony supposed. Something that was proving to be particularly true of you and his brother. If Colin, who had a deep-seated need to be liked by anyone and everyone, could fall in love with you, the only person who didn’t actually like him, then surely it was meant to be.
Colin, still deep in thought, chewed his lip nervously. “And how did you get her to fall in love with you?”
“We were caught in a… compromising position. She had been stung by a bee and I… Well, I’m sure you recall,” said Anthony, suddenly feeling uncharacteristically shy as he remembered the circumstances that allowed him to marry his wife. “It’s far easier to get a woman to love you when she’s already your wife,” he finished sympathetically. 
Colin choked back a laugh. “Unfortunately, I can’t very well put Lady Montclair in a compromising position, can I?” he laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.
“But Colin, I thought this was all hypothetical,” teased Anthony, playfully punching his brother on the shoulder. 
Colin cursed under his breath, rolling his eyes in annoyance as Anthony continued laughing at him. “Never mind. I’m off to find Eloise,” he muttered, patting the eldest Bridgerton on the back and leaving him free to go dote on his wife. 
After speaking with Anthony, Colin had a renewed sense of purpose. He had to find out why you hated him. He was so utterly exhausted of hating you and of having this tiresome charade of fighting with each other at every available moment. At this point, he didn’t particularly care who in the ton liked him or not. Colin knew he would happily take the entire ton’s wrath for the rest of his life if it meant you loved him.
But he needed to know just how unrealistic his hopes were. Eloise would be the best–and perhaps only­–person who would know. 
Colin found his sister practicing needlepoint in the sitting room, focused intensely on the material in front of her. It was unclear whether she was trying to sew the fabric or her finger, given how often she was pricking herself as she attempted to thread the needle. 
“El!” he called by the doorway, pausing when he saw his sister grimace after pricking herself once again. “I can return later if you’re busy.”
“No! No, please interrupt. Thank heavens,” gasped Eloise, grateful to be able to do something other than draw her blood. 
Colin laughed, amused, and suddenly felt a tad sheepish. Was he truly about to ask about you? To ask about you to Eloise, who would no doubt hold this over his head for the rest of eternity? But he had to know. He had to ask, at the very least. 
“I was just…I was wondering if you knew why Lady Montclair hates me,” he asked, clearing his throat awkwardly. 
Eloise let out a snort. “Well, I can’t imagine she’d be hard-pressed to find a reason why, given how you treat her.”
Seeing her brother’s crestfallen face, Eloise immediately sobered. Standing up and walking toward him, she placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “I thought you disliked her as well,” she said in a questioning tone.
“Of course I do,” clarified Colin quickly. “But she hated me first and I still don’t know why. I thought she might have said something to you, given how close the two of you are. Do you know at all?”
Eloise clicked her tongue in sympathy, looking at Colin with concern. Perhaps his feelings did run deeper than anyone thought, and the recent dancing and promenading were more than just Colin being his usual charming self around you. “I’m sure I have no idea, Col. But you could always just talk to her.”
Colin shook his head, smiling sadly at his sister. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? She doesn’t usually seem very eager to speak with me.”
Sure, the two of you had been getting along recently. But that had only been twice. And was that really enough to undo the weeks of hatred?
---
It was a particularly delightful Wednesday afternoon, and you found yourself feeding the ducks at Hyde Park as you watched Isabelle and Charlotte skip rocks across the pond. Though you loved Louis to bits, it was a lovely feeling to have both of your sisters home with you. There was simply something about being out in society that he could never quite understand like them, though not for lack of trying. 
After lunch, you, Charlotte, and Isabelle had managed to sneak out of the house just as the post-meal discussion grew rowdy. It was not unheard of to have such lively discussions in the Montclair household, and you frequently even enjoyed them. But there were some days, like today, that you frankly just wanted to have a quiet afternoon with a baguette and about a dozen ducks. Luckily, your sisters had decided to join you, and the three of you had set off toward the park in search of a flock of birds to feed.
It seemed that the ducks had taken much more of a liking to you than to your sisters, and they had grown disinterested in the endeavor. Charlotte and Isabelle had opted to give you their remaining bread and take a stroll around the mostly empty park, and you couldn’t say that you were complaining. Coming from such a large family, it was a rare luxury to have an afternoon largely to yourself. 
A while later, after most of the ducks found themselves happily full, you spotted a stumbling figure making its way toward you. As you turned to your sisters with a questioning look, you were disappointed to find them in deep conversation facing away from you, neither one of them noticing you. 
As the figure neared, you realized who it was: Nigel Berbrooke. Your heart skipped a beat and you felt your stomach drop, unpleasant memories of him and his disgusting words flooding your brain. You had no desire to speak to this man, and you looked around for anyone you could speak with instead. But you had not brought a lady’s maid, and everyone else was too far to intervene.
“Lady Montclair,” said Nigel, with what looked to be an attempt at a seductive smile on his face. 
You stood up from your crouching position rigidly and turned to face him. You were unable to form any words, discomfort far outweighing any other emotion you were feeling. This had to be his first time back this season after his absence, you thought. You hadn’t seen him at any events since the Danbury ball, and you rather thought you would have noticed him, looking as vile as he did now.
His nose was a tad more crooked than on the night you had met him, and the bags under his eyes were ghastly. But perhaps it was just your perception of him, knowing what you did about who he was.
“Mr. Berbrooke,” you settled for saying, nose crinkling as you caught a whiff of the pungent smell of alcohol emanating off of him.
“A promenade?” he asked roughly, reaching for your hand without permission. “It’s a lovely afternoon, it would be a shame to waste it.”
“Oh, Mr. Berbrooke, we were just about to head home,” you pointed your head toward your sisters, panicked. 
Isabelle and Charlotte were far too immersed in their conversation to look like they were ready to head home, but you prayed that Nigel’s inebriated state would distract him from this.
He growled at you, clearly displeased at your rejection. “I’ve been keeping an eye on you, Montclair. Your dowry, as well as your other…assets, are far too good to pass up,” he slurred, very obviously staring at your chest. “It’s a shame Colin’s gotten to you first.”
You were scandalized, opening your mouth to chastise him, or to scream for help, or anything that could get you out of this situation, really, but he cut you off before you could say anything. 
"I've heard Lord Barlow abandoned you, and truth be told, it's hardly shocking," he taunted, his voice laced with disdain as he regarded you with a sneer. "You insist on playing the coy maiden, denying every man what he craves. It's the only reason they’re after you now, you see? They want what you didn't give Arthur. And it appears Colin has taken the lead in the chase, the lucky bastard."
His words brought you crashing back down to reality. Of course, he was colluding with Colin. You had conveniently overlooked that fact as you found yourself becoming bashful in his presence, feeling secure, even desiring his company after these recent days. A surge of bile rose in your throat.
You felt tears prickling in your eyes, and you were impossibly angry with yourself for forgetting the very reason you despised Colin Bridgerton. How could you have let yourself forget? He was still the same man you overheard at the Danbury ball, and you were too embarrassed to admit that his charm had worked on you. 
You were disgusted with Nigel and Colin, but also with yourself. You were more than this, you chided. How could you have let this happen? The two men were clearly no good, and you had unwittingly allowed yourself to be ensnared, much like you had with Lord Barlow.
“Excuse me,” you said roughly, dodging Mr. Berbrooke’s outstretched hand as you ran toward where Isabelle and Charlotte were standing, propriety be damned. 
“On va chez nous. Tout de suite,” you said to them urgently, practically begging as you tugged on Isabelle’s hand (We’re going home. Right now). 
Charlotte looked at you, confused, and then noticed you glancing nervously at Nigel as he approached, angrily staggering over to you as his face contorted into an ugly scowl. 
“Ah, I’m terribly sorry Mr. Berbrooke,” Isabelle said firmly, “but it seems we have to go.” 
Not waiting for a response, your sisters hooked their arms in yours and hurriedly walked back from where you came. They’d be damned if he let anything else happen to you after what happened with Lord Barlow, and they were not about to waste any time.
Nigel only grunted, displeased, but let the three of you go without protest. Both of your sisters’ husbands were very powerful men, and Nigel was not so deluded as to forget his place in society.
“Y/N?” Charlotte questioned softly once you were sufficiently far away enough. 
But you were too embarrassed, tears streaming down your face as you choked back sobs. How could you have let yourself fall for Colin’s charm? You knew exactly who he was, and you had ignored it anyway. It didn’t matter that he made you feel safe and that the two of you had more in common than you cared to admit. He would never respect you, and you could never love him. 
Nigel had come at just the right time, you thought sullenly. Right as you were thinking you could finally overlook your rivalry with Colin, right as the memory of why you disliked him in the first place was fading. And thank heavens he did. You would not be taken for a fool again, by Colin or by Lord Barlow or by anyone. 
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atdawnweryd · 10 months
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Young Royals, S1e06
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hihi!! idk if ur requests are open so ignore this if they aren't!
reader was cheated on so she goes to simons house for comfort. one thing leads to another and hes saying "i bet he couldn't fuck you like this" while absolutely destroying her
“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.” Simon grunted as he placed a gentle kiss to your temple. “He’s such a damn fool for what he did.”
You honestly don’t know how you ended up here. One minute you found out your boyfriend of 3 years was cheating on you, and the next you were laying underneath your best friend of 10 years as he completely worshipped you.
You should’ve known better, your boyfriend (well ex-boyfriend now) had so many red flags you’d lost count, but you always tried to see the best in people, never truly realizing just how hurt you could end up because of it.
Simon Riley was the one person in your life who was always your rock, always was there for you, always cared for you when nobody else bothered to. He was the only person you wanted to comfort you tonight.
He welcomed you with open arms like he always did, his hugs able to cure any emotion or ailment you may have. You’d cried your eyes out to him, let out all your frustrations into his chest as he held you close.
You never, never expected to end up kissing him, let alone finding yourself in his bed, being utterly ruined by him later that night. It was everything you never knew you hoped for. After the many years you’d been friends with him, you finally realized that he was the one you’d always wanted to be with.
“I don’t deserve you, Simon. You’re too good for me.” You cried out, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix after a particular rough jut of his hips. “I’m so sorry it took me so long to realize.”
“You’ve got that backwards, love.” A soft chuckle escaped his lips before he slotted them against yours. His kiss was gentle, but so full of emotion it had your heart swelling. “I’ve wanted you to be mine since the day I laid eyes on you. I’m a patient man, sweet girl.”
You’d never been fucked like this before, never been worshipped like this. Your body felt weightless, a warm heat spreading throughout your body as Simon’s cock rubbed against your slick walls.
A guttural moan escaped your lips as he increased his pace, the sound of slapping skin filling the room. You felt your high rapidly approaching, as your toes started to curl, and your eyes fluttered shut. He was so fucking good at this.
“Did he make you feel this good, sweetheart?” Simon groaned, his breath fanning over your ear. “I bet he couldn’t fuck you like this, could he?”
You weakly shook your head, your mouth falling open slightly as Simon nipped at your earlobe, his thick length sliding against your walls at a frenzied pace. You’d never felt this full before, this stuffed. It felt like his cock was made just for you.
“That’s what I thought.” He purred, moving to capture your lips in his once more. His tongue darted out, exploring each and every inch of your mouth, committing your taste to memory. “Being so good for me. Can’t believe this is what I’ve been fuckin’ missing out on.”
“Simon.” You chanted, your nails digging crescents into the toned skin of his back. Soft moans and sounds of slapping skin deliciously filling the air as both of you lost yourselves in one another.
“That’s right, sweetheart. Say my name. Let me know how good I’m making you feel.” Simon cooed, his hands lacing with your own above your head as his cock continued to slide in and out of you at a brutal pace. “You are so incredible, love. I should’ve made you mine a long fuckin’ time ago.”
Tears pricked in the corners of your eyes, every emotion you were feeling bubbling to the surface. You let your eyes flutter open, your heart skipping a beat as you found Simon looking down at you with complete and utter adoration.
Any self consciousness or self loathing thoughts you may have had before being in your best friend’s arms suddenly vanished, and were now left feeling completely and utterly cherished.
You slipped your hands from Simon’s, and wrapped them around his neck, pulling him impossibly close to you. You never wanted this moment to end. “I’m yours, Simon.”
“That’s right, love. All fuckin’ mine now. I am going to ruin you for any other man, love. Gonna treat you like the princess you are.”
And he fucking did.
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blurboki · 9 months
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✩ ≫ GIVING STRAYKIDS HEAD WHILE HE’S LIVE
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including. ot8 | pairing. skz x fem! reader | genre. smut - MINORS DNI | warnings. blowjob/handjob (m. rec), mentions of begging, mentions of a breeding kink, voyeurism, nicknames, mentions of using toys, humiliation, cum-eating, facial (f. rec), hair pulling, dubcon, felix cums inside, degradation, overstimulation, gagging, deep-throating, d/s dynamics
authors note. ty for requesting! i hope you don’t mind how wild i got with this.. seungmin’s made me feral (please tell me if i missed anything in the warnings!!)
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CHAN :
would be so smiley n cute :((
until you kneel down and the realization hits
you can see his expressive eyes go “oh? oh.” in five second flat
the way you’re looking up at him? he’s twitching in his pants, trying his hardest to pay attention to chan’s room
definitely says something like: “alright! let’s get onto the next song, yeah?” while furiously turning up the volume to drown out his soft huffs of breath, plump lips parted to exhale deeply
the way he utterly shudders when you lick from his shaft all the way up to his leaking head has the dreamiest sigh falling from your mouth
the way you’re testing his patience makes him want to fuck you silly 🙈🙈
plays it off as if he was adjusting in his chair, meek smile giving away none of your naughtiness
once you start taking him into your mouth though, he reaches a hand to your hair, forcing you to down him
squeezes his eyes shut from the feeling of your throat swallowing him alongside the toe-curling whine you whimpered in response
most likely pretended to yawn to conceal his fucked-out face and the obscene sound of you gagging on him, babydoll eyes welling with tears
omg the way he looks down at you after that ?admiring your smudged mascara and the drool coating your lips and chin ?? pls eat me sir
“unfortunately, that’ll be the last song for this live, thank you Stay for joining me today..” he says, nonchalantly thumbing at your bottom lip to wipe the residue sitting there
legs spread and cock flushed against his abdomen, you come to realize rather quickly that you got yourself into something dangerous…
MINHO :
he’d prob be doing a live in the meeting room when you arrive, gazing at you pushing chairs out of the way to make him think you’re planning to sit down
till you settle between his legs and the realization dawns
has the most attractive, challenging stare ever watching you go to town
tbh minho is fucking terrifying with his self control in and outside of the bedroom
like he’d be able to answer questions and act completely normal despite his dick being halfway down your throat
pretends to laugh at a comment when instead he reached a hand under and toyed with your clit, gathering your wetness on two fingers to smear on the side of your lips
what he was laughing at? how pathetic you sounded mewling and dripping with need as if you weren’t the one who decided to give him head rn
would def end the live a tad bit early, finally succumbing to the handjob you provided where he came all over your face with the sluttiest moan
10/10 would bend you over and fuck you on the table after
10/10 would keep your legs out of business for a good five to six days (i stand by my claim)
CHANGBIN :
binnie is so fucking transparent idek if he could hide it
but like, he makes weird noises anyways so tbh stay probably wouldn’t bat an eye
sooo needy
gently grabs your chin while you kitty lick his mushroom tip and gives you most pleading stare
if he could’ve telepathically communicated, he would definitely been begging
funny considering how he basically bred you into the mattress the night before , right?
you resort to kissing his swollen cock, ensuring he’s watching when you collect his beading precum on a finger, bringing it up to your lips
to say he held back a moan doesn’t even cut it, poor baby might’ve bit his tongue off atp from your adorable eye contact and the mere image alone
gets frantic enough he blasts gods menu full volume and “suddenly” gets a text from Hyunjin saying he “needs to go”
a.k.a needs to blow
dude absolutely explodes
his moans are the cutest by far >>>
cums all over your face muttering soft “please please please” over and over while his fat cock basically ropes messy strings
he swore he’s never came harder in his life
andddd that’s how you got introduced to edging changbin!!!
jk, it just fueled your obsession with it further ;)
HYUNJIN :
prob the cutest of them all when you give him head under the table
he just feels so good and loved from your attention and the pleasure
has the dreamiest of smiles the entire time despite the music being obnoxiously loud to hide the sound
stays love this live bc of how cute he looked the entire time
lots conspired that he was drunk or smthn bc of how smiley he was, cheeks dusted pink
pretended to drop something so he could groan under the table, thigh twitching and abs tightening as he approached his orgasm
definitely grabs your head before he came, brows slightly knit and lips parted as he met your eyes
so fucking sweet after he cums, petting your head and running a light hand on your cheek where his cum smears
pops his thumb in your mouth, softly wiping your bottom lip of his essence
he’s literally delighted i cannot make this up
totally nonchalant apart from groaning under the table which he hid from view
expect either the softest or hardest sex afterwards
like you’re going to either be carried because your legs are out of commission or because he’s feeling romantic :((
HAN :
.. stay are prob getting an equally good treat too
and no they don’t know what was going on, they just know how from a certain timestamp in his most recent live his voice got a whole lot more attractive
expect a sudden raspy pitch, clicking his tongue casually as if his partner wasn’t spoiling him
on any other day he’d be stupidly whiny, crying from the pleasure you provided
today, however, he just let himself dissolve in the ecstasy, breathing in the fresh air on cloud 9
there were some speculations from stay watching, but it only got as far as that
scary enough, he doesn’t make a sound, casually carrying out conversation and answering questions like nothing
that is until you get impatient, pressing hot kisses all over and speeding up the movement of your hand as you fist him, pretty eyes fixating on his face
aha. you see him slightly wince, bidding farewell quickly with a few over-exaggerated poses and blown kisses
stifles a groan as he approached his high, tracing the corner of your lips as he grumbles an excessively attractive:
“now stick your tongue out, ‘don’t what you missing a drop.”
then proceeds to cum all over your lips n mouth, thumbing away some of his residue there
“you’re so messy, bunny, ‘have to teach you some manners, hm?”
FELIX :
he gets so cocky
and it’s one of the hottest things on the planet
watches you through half-lidded eyes as you unbutton his jeans, taking him into your mouth
i feel like no matter how hard you try to rile him up, it just makes him cockier and gives him a visible ego boost
like, not a ‘thinking with my dick only’ type of ego boost, more of a ‘why tf aren’t you reacting rn, please fuck me already at this point’ sort of ego boost
this man most likely turn off the music just to play it risky, forcing you down on his dick when you get too loud
reads comments as you literally deep throat him, eyes tearing up with how he keeps bumping the back of your throat
it’s insane
lifts a brow daringly as he reads a particular comment and you swear you would’ve moaned so fucking loud if it weren’t for him cruelly shoving fingers into your mouth as you fisted him with a hand
breathily sighs as you work faster, blinking a bit slower and hesitating with his answers—a telltale sign he’s close
definitely ends the live earlier, quickly taking off your bottoms to pull you onto his lap and paint your cunt white
voices the most guttural groan, adams apple bobbing as he fills you so full of him
he’s convinced there is absolutely nothing he loves more than stuffing your pussy, nothing
SEUNGMIN :
i will sit in the grave believing seungmin is one of the most god-teir men alive when it comes to head
another rbf (resting bitch face) king btw!!
meanest but also nicest ?? i can’t explain take this how you want
prob sings a song while you suck him off i cannot😭😭
you’d most likely be more affected than he is (or you just can’t tell), bc you’ll be a moaning mess from how nonchalantly he’s already shoved two fingers inside your cunt, guiding your head into a steady rhythm with a spare hand
smiles every time you mewl on his cock, hungrily watching your hips stutter while his fingers curl and rub your pussy sooo good
lmao i bet he hits a high note when you cream(and when he cums too), drowning out the desperate cries you sob from his lap
ends the live without even a trace of what happened, pulling your hair roughly so you meet his eyes, tears freely rolling down your cheeks
“you wanted this so don’t act like you didn’t. open.” he instructs, and you obediently open your mouth for him, showing him your tongue and lips painted with his cum
“swallow.”
his face when you swallow oml he loves seeing his baby behave
mumbles quiet “good girl”’s when you take his fingers coated in your juices into your mouth
honestly.. i could see him buzzing your puffy clit w a bullet vibrator afterwards while you sit on his dick, cooing as you fall apart on top of him, telling you it’s a “reward” while you’re overstimulated and sensitive beyond belief
JEONGIN :
kind of like hyunjin with his unpredictability, he’s either stone cold or an innocent baby
today, however, he was definitely needy, looking adorably confused when you sauntered through the doorway
gasps when you slip under the desk, eyes turning into round saucers as you carefully rid him of his pants then boxers
has to pause on multiple occasions to pull himself together, occasionally turning his head away from the camera to express the overwhelming feeling of your tongue
leaks a quiet, oh so quiet whine in the midst of laughing at a comment
poor bub gets an army of comments asking if he’s feeling sick from how flushed he is
cutie can’t admit how amazing you make him feel 🤭
ends the live abruptly, literally only thinking about cumming in your mouth
desperate AF when he starts mumbling, pulling you off of him to stick out your tongue as he frantically fists his dick, beads of pre-cum decorating the swollen tip
“oh god oh god oh god— cumming, ‘gonna cum, in your mouth? baby please please wanna cum in your mouth— yeah just like that, good girl- fuck-“ is just an example of his barely intelligible moaning
trust that he came hard, strings of apologies falling off his pink lips at the mess he made of your face
oml if you keep sucking him off afterwards?? overstimulated innie is the cutest thing ever
expect lots of begging and neediness 😍
blurboki, july 2023 ©
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okwonyo · 14 days
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doing kissing tricks on them.
엔하이픈 ୨୧ female reader six hundred non-idol au fluff established relationship + cw. not proof-read kissing skinship ( other )
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heeseung would absentmindedly obey you when you tell him to look at an invisible point, following the length of your pretty finger until reaching it’s top. “what is it, baby? i can't see i—” would be interrupted by your hand grabbing his face and turning in to your face in a speed motion. would kiss you back without even thinking and would definitely let out a little ‘wow’ when you pull away.
jay would be a bit confused on why you are asking to come closer so you can tell him a ‘super-hyper’ important secret; given the fact that you are alone in that big apartment and that there is times where your enthusiasm for gossips made you scream a secret in the middle of the resting room. would still do what you want him to do, smiling against your lips and forgetting all the questions he was pondering about.
jake would close his eyes in a mere heartbeat as soon as you tell him to; not even thinking about it — although he would get a but confused when you cup his face ... would kiss you right back when you finally do it, chasing after your lips, a little pout forming on his face when you pull away. pink shade showing up on his pretty face when he would finally realize that you tricked him, “t-that,” his giggles would cause him to stumble over his words a bit, “was really smooth”
sunghoon would gawk at you, watching you run from the kitchen to the living room, his name leaving your mouth in a continuous high note. “what are you doing, silly?” he would ask, after laughing at you for a few seconds. would supply when you poke your cheek as a demand for a kiss, ready to give you the wettest and longest cheek kiss ever (would definitely let out a really loud ‘mwah !’ after pulling away). would dramatically put his hand in front of his mouth after you turned your head and gave him a peck on the lips, eyes wide all all..
sunoo would get utterly offended when you ask him if he can whistle— hand flying to his heart as he lets out a, beyond dramatic and unnecessarily loud, gasp. would pout for a bit before actually showing you that he, in fact, can whistle (“and better that you do”). then when you kiss him: oh, he would be shocked. would look at you with wide eyes and an opened mouth, “okay, do this again. i’ll be ready this time”
jungwon would be taken aback. it would all start by him telling you that his lips are a bit dry, passing his tongue on his lower lip as an attempt to resolve the problem— of course, it would get worse after a few minutes. “do you have any lip balm for me, pretty?” he would question you, and would watch you with obvious surprise in his eyes whereupon you lean in towards him, affirming that you do while puckering your lips. with a grin forming on his lips, he would kiss you in a millisecond.
riki would get so flustered. you would drap your arm around his shoulder in a almost comical way — given the fact that you are ridiculously shorter than he is. without giving it a second thought he would look at the direction you tell him to look at, still chuckling over your funny position. would get red when your fingers find his chin, letting you turn his head to yours and capture his lips with yours, that are too soft to even care about how nervous they make him.
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sassysnowperson · 10 months
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How Not to Read Terry Pratchett's Discworld Novels
With the very exciting fantasy books poll bracket going on Discworld and how to read it is in the zeitgeist again. I figured I would take a crack at adding to this important topic with a guide drawn from my own chaotic mess of a reading journey:
Learn that Terry Pratchett is a fantasy author that several people whose reading taste you admire enjoy. He apparently blends comedy, good plotting, and a world that is both grounded and satirical and you're a big fan of all those things.
Fabulous! Decide to read some of his work.
Go to your local library. Love a good library. You're new to the area, so you're also exploring the library for the first time, too.
You have found Terry Pratchett! Points to you! Pull a book off the shelf at random. It's called The Dark Side of the Sun.
Start reading. Realize that this feels more like sci-fi than fantasy. Sigh in smug superiority about people who get the two confused.
Realize about halfway through that this is not, in fact, a Discworld book.
Nobody warned you the guy wrote other things!
It's still good, tho. Maybe a little rough but this was an older book and the author clearly has potential. Let's try again.
Review his works. The vast majority are Discworld. You are highly unlikely to grab another non-Discworld book. Go back to the Terry Pratchett section of the library.
Oh hey he wrote a book with Neil Gaiman! You've hears of that guy!
Grab Good Omens off the shelf.
Take it home, realize, much sooner, that this is also not a Discworld book. Still enjoy yourself thoroughly. You should read more of this Gaiman dude, too.
But okay. For real this time. Go back to the library and don't leave without *CONFIRMING* you have a Discworld book this time.
Grab a book. Look at the cover. Read the back Discworld! Ha HA! You've done it!
It's called Thud.
You are utterly gripped by a story of a man wrestling with himself, his growing child, the political tensions of a city and extremism that echoes reality beautifully while still being entirely true to itself. It's a story of responsibility and love and building communities and Fantasy Chess. You are driven nearly to tears by the sentence *WHERE IS MY COW?*
You emerge from the book fundamentally changed as a person, and finally understanding what all the fuss is about. You are now a Terry Pratchett reader for life.
You realize Thud was in the middle of a series. That was a part of another series. That explains why there was a feeling that you were supposed to know some of these people already.
You finally find one of those flowcharts and figure out a more sensible reading order.
I always sort of laugh when people ask where to start reading Discworld, because Thud would be first on absolutely nobody's sensible Terry Pratchett reading order. I'm still tempted to recommend it though!
(My actual advice: Going Postal if you love con men being stuck doing the right thing, Wee Free Men if you like YA and smart angry girls owning their own power, Guards! Guards! *and* Men at Arms if you like crime shows with heart and are okay giving earlier work a try (the quality gets better and better, but I think it needs at least two books to get you into it), and Monstrous Regiment if you like gender and queer feelings, anti-war books told in the middle of a war, and/or would prefer a stand alone novel...and, you know, Thud if you want a great read and don't mind some chaos.)
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shisurus · 2 months
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can't stop thinking about dungeon meshi btw. how it comes down to being able to appreciate the hard and painful times because of the moments of happiness you experienced along the way.
it's about falin being able to forgive and look beyond the harsh way things were done- be it their father announcing he will send her away from the village or laios leaving her behind- partly due to her personality, and how she used to prioritize her loved ones' needs and emotions over her own, but also because of the positive impact that road eventually had on her. she knows her family was trying to protect her but what truly made it impossible to regret the path she had to take were the precious memories she made later on- it was learning magic and seeing new places and becoming friends with marcille and of course she couldn't hate it all, she was happy. it's about laios feeling so utterly miserable because on his end, it seemed like nothing good or enjoyable happened to him after leaving home, aside from the letters written by falin. but how long can a child be satisfied with another's happiness which he never got to experience himself?
so it really is beautiful that the series started off with him realizing that this journey allowed him to finally feel that happiness he was yearning for-
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-and ended with everyone else realizing it too. when you first read chapter 11 it's just a funny gag about people not understanding laios, but it genuinely was too early for them to share his sentiment. they needed to come to terms with it on their own, with chilchuck opening up to them and senshi resolving the hovering mystery of his past and izutsumi freeing herself and joining their party and marcille facing her greatest fear. the winged lion was taking advantage of the loneliness and anger and pain lingering in laios's heart, but even it couldn't deny this. how, despite everything, he couldn't be satiated and his own happiness couldn't be complete without his friends' happiness too. how it was always about everyone enjoying a meal together.
and then there's marcille, who refused to admit it until the very end. it's in the way she had such a hard time fully accepting eating monsters despite how tasty she found them, not just due to how weird they were but also because she tried rejecting and burying her own pleasure and joy during this entire journey. from the very beginning, she was only willing to endure the pain and suffering.
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as if she couldn't accept feeling an ounce of comfort, satisfaction, let alone happiness while falin was suffering on her own. and it might've been laios's reaction as well if all of this had happend a decade ago- i mean, that's exactly what he did back then. blaming himself for leaving her behind, being tormented by her loneliness and absence while falin was actually slowly moving towards a brighter future. it was him that was stuck, not her. but he kept focusing on her pain to ignore how deep the hole in his own heart had become, consumed by guilt to ignore his own agony, or to make sense of it- because maybe he did deserve it after all he had done.
and for that reason marcille was so terrified of admitting there was warmth in what she considered the depths of hell. because it would mean accepting falin going ahead of her and leaving her behind, accepting the inevitable she was trying so hard to deny and the end of her dream.
but it was learning there's joy even in her worst nightmare that allowed her to finally embrace those moments of pleasure that made her life worth living, however short they were. she realized that her pursuit would take away the things that truly mattered to her, that if she had succumbed to her fear of loss she would've been the one hurting her loved ones, just as happened to thistle. laios asking her to use ancient magic for falin's resurrection and then encouraging her to not give up on her desires during the nightmare chapter was a direct parallel to delgal being the one to push thistle down the road of destruction, while both marcille and thistle were trying to protect the people most important to their friends.
but in marcille's case, laios was able to understand her at the end, pulling her back just before she descended to complete ruin. it's truly fascinating how the story is not only about laios being understood but also getting to understand others properly, deeply- it's about mutual understanding, the balance between two people he never managed to maintain before. and i think it's only after seeing thistle's tragedy that he was able to fully realize what might become of marcille down the line. so while delgal put the weight of the world on thistle's shoulders, laios was the one to tell marcille she doesn't have to do that. because even if falin's resurrection hadn't succeeded, they both already know- there's happiness even in the dungeon's pit. and it's by preparing a hearty meal made of her loved one's remains that marcille was able to truly accept it- thus allowing herself to enjoy it to the fullest, embracing the cycle of life, no matter how weird or painful or grotesque it is.
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multific · 4 months
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Constellation
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Wolf Yautja x Reader
Summary: You loved living alone in your cottage. You moved out to be alone for a reason, you hated people, and you wanted to be left alone. And you were alone until a certain pair of eyes started following you.
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You saw the news on the TV.
Aliens.
And yet you ignored it.
You tried to live the life you wanted for so long as best as you could.
For as long as you could.
You still took care of your land, fed your animals and did your daily chores as usual.
You did see a couple of ships pass over your home but nothing more.
You have never seen an alien. Only on TV.
It appeared that they were fighting. 
Then the government decided to nuke the city to kill both aliens.
It looked like it was the end of it all.
But little did you know, for you, it was only the beginning. 
You had a feeling that you were being watched. 
The feeling not quite leaving you alone. You tried to look. You walked around your land, in the woods, nothing, no one. 
Could it be that you were becoming more and more paranoid? Could it be because of isolation?
You were imagining things.
Until one evening, when you heard noises inside your house.
Loud distinctive noises of someone walking around.
Fear struck you. 
You couldn't move out of bed. You just laid there, blankets up to your chin as you were shaking. Your heart beat out of your chest as the door to your room opened.
The person was huge, way too tall for a human, they had to dodge under the door to move in.
Then, came a clicking sound.
This is when you realized, this was no human.
There was a God damn alien in your home!
You knew you couldn't do anything. This thing could tear you apart in a matter of seconds.
You pretended to be asleep, hoping it would leave.
It watched you for a minute or two, which for you felt like an eternity before it left.
After the alien creature left, you rushed to see how it got in.
All doors and windows were locked from the inside. But you surely heard its footsteps moving into the woods next to your home.
You were utterly confused.
How did it get in?!
Why did it get in? What did it want?
It didn't take anything, it didn't hurt you, so what could it want?!
For the upcoming days, you didn't sleep.
The thing came every night, sometimes late in the night sometimes earlier. It just stood there and did nothing.
By the third time you were considering asking it what did it want. Or staying awake to see how it would react.
But you were too afraid.
Then two weeks later, as you were leaving your home, the skull of a deer with antlers was on your porch. It was placed there delicately, facing the door so you wouldn't miss it.
You were sure it was the alien.
Was this its sign to show you that it could kill you? You already knew that.
You took the skull and left it on your porch. You thought if you ignored it long enough, it would get tired and just leave you alone.
But it didn't.
The next day, another animal skull was placed on your steps. Looked to be a cat or a dog.
Then, something like a fox and finally, a wolf skull.
You began to have quite a collection. But you didn't understand. Was this thing trying to intimidate you?
It was working.
You just refused to leave because you spent your life building this place into a home.
But, was your life worth staying?
It showed that it could easily kill you.
But then why was it hiding?
Why did it already kill you and take what it wanted?
What did it want?
--- 2 months ago ---
Yautja prided themselves if they died during a fight.
It was the most honourable death they could ever ask for.
He fought many xenomorphs. One even left its scar on him. 
And yet, now as he was fighting, he survived.
He got back on his ship and left, but his ship got damaged and it broke down in the woods.
Wolf had to fix his ship so he could go back to Yautja Prime.
On his way to find some materials he could use he stumbled upon a farm, he knew some humans lived out in the wild in their houses, away from other humans.
He hid behind a tree and observed, trying to figure out if this human opposed any danger to him.
The first time he saw you was when you took care of your crops.
He concluded that you were nothing but a harmless little human.
And yet, for the next two weeks, he found himself watching you. He sat up on the tree and watched you all day and fixed his ship all night.
He walked around your crops, looking at everything.
To him, it was clear that you were a provider. Much like the females on his planet, you took care of food while the males hunted.
But you had no male. Which was quite interesting to him.
How come no male humans wanted you as their mate?
One night, he got brave and decided to go inside the house while you slept.
He checked your home and found nothing of interest besides you.
He watched as you slept.
He stood there for hours, watching you. 
You were so different from him, yet so similar. 
You preferred to be alone, much like him. 
You didn't have a mate, much like him.
He liked you. Which was extremely rare for him. During his life, he never looked for anyone like he did for you.
And so, he made his decision.
He will court you, win you and bring you back to his planet.
It was a simple plan for him.
And so, the first skull was placed on your doorstep.
You yawned as you got out of the bath, heading to the kitchen for some water before heading to bed, you stopped in your tracks.
It was here.
It was standing right in front of you. It was huge and grey and green and tall and... and you nearly fainted.
You knew you couldn't fight this thing. 
You had no chance against it.
It raised its hands and pulled its helmet off, revealing its face.
This alien looked a lot like the one you saw on the TV once.
The one that fought the other.
You noted the scar on its face as it made a clicking sound. It started to walk towards you, you backed up into the fridge. 
It raised its hand and placed a palm against your cheek. You looked into its eyes for the first time.
And somehow, you felt calm.
It made you calm down.
He made you calm down.
"What do you want?" you asked, hoping he would understand.
But he just made the same clicking sound as he did before. 
"Why did you leave the skulls?" you asked and he moved his hand to the armour on his wrist and pushed a couple of buttons.
"Gi-fts." said a very broken robotic voice.
"Why did you leave me gifts?" you watched as he pushed more buttons.
"Gifts for Mate." 
"Mate?" you asked and he nodded. Realization hit you and you realized, he was leaving you gifts so that he could court you. This must be an alien custom. "What are you?"
"Yautja."
"What's your name?"
"Wolf." the machine seemingly translated his name, but it was okay. "Your name?"
"My name is Y/N."
He nodded again.
"I want to take you to my planet. So we can marry." your eyes widened.
"Marry?"
"Strong female," he pointed at you, "Strong male." you would have assumed that he would have some issue having to marry you, wouldn't they only marry their own?
"Give me time. Two months. T-Then I will go with you." what were you saying? Why did you say that?! You didn't want to go! But you had no other options! This... Wolf clearly would get what he wants.
Maybe... those two months will be enough for you to get used to the thought.
Maybe those two months will be enough for you to grow some form of attachment. 
Maybe... hopefully.
For the next two months, he stayed with you in the house. 
The first week there was a lot of rain and storm so you were inside.
Most of the time you just kept looking at him or watched TV. He didn't speak, but he did notice the skulls you put up above your fireplace.
It filled him with pride, it meant you liked his presents.
That you accepted his courting.
For the upcoming days you cooked for both of you, since you weren't exactly sure what food he liked, you tried steak with potatoes. You can't go wrong with that.
And you didn't. He enjoyed it very much. Then the next day, he brought you cut meat, from where you were afraid to ask.
But you did cook everything that he brought to your home.
And he ate it all.
He still watched as you slept.
But instead of panicking, you found yourself enjoying having him there. He made you feel safe and you found that you wouldn't be able to fall asleep without him in the room. 
You woke up each and every morning more and more comfortable in his presence, which did make you worry.
Turned out, you didn't hate company, you hated human company.
Wolf being the big alien that he was tried his best to be careful around you. He followed you everywhere, he watched you and learned. 
He learned a lot about you from just watching you in the woods, but now, now he knew even more.
He saw the way you worked, how gentle and delicate you could be. But he also watched you chop up wood, showing that you can be strong when need be.
He liked it.
He was proud to pick such an amazing Mate.
It was the last day, two months had gone by and his ship was ready, he was ready.
He entered your house and found you in the kitchen, you looked out your window as if trying to memorize everything. But when you realized that he was behind you, you turned and smiled at him. A gesture he wished he could give back.
"I'm almost ready." you said with a heavy heart, but you were also ready to leave and be with Wolf, see where that path would take you.
And you felt ready for the adventure, it scared you but you felt ready.
You just wanted to remember this place.
You looked back out the window when he came up behind you, standing behind you, you felt his huge body but you didn't feel scared. 
It felt good.
He felt safe.
He was a good two heads taller than you.
You didn't say a word as you turned around and looked at him. You really looked at his scar and his eye. You knew he still could see with it, but his vision wasn't the best on that one.
You could also assume that one of his... mandibles was missing. It's place is still present.
You wished you could ask, you wished he could tell you. He lowered himself, allowing you to reach his face as you reached up and ran your fingers down his scars.
You wished you were there to help him, you could have eased his pain.
And, just like that, you were ready.
--- 3 years later ---
Yautja Prime was very different from Earth.
Yautja were very different from humans.
You learned that Wolf was quite the loner. His name fit him very well.
He preferred to be alone in his home, working on his ship or head on a mission for a hunt.
He liked being with you.
You two were very similar.
You didn't enjoy the company of others, but you enjoyed having the others around.
On your wedding night, Wolf told you how Yautja found their mates.
He also told you about true mates. Which is what you would call soulmates.
He explained how he felt as if you two were true mates and you didn't agree at the time, but now you did.
Spending your last three years with him, you can confidently say that you are in love with him.
You only feel complete when he is there.
And from what he told you, he felt the same. You wore the necklace he gifted you with pride.
And you waited for him every day when he was away on a hunt. He always came back victorious with many gifts.
He proved his worth to you as a male and a Mate.
And so, you never once regretted coming with him. Even if you were nervous in the beginning.
He made sure you had a warm bed, filled with furs.
Every night he came to the bed, he held you close to him, keeping your smaller body close and safe.
You slept with the confidence of having him there. Knowing he would protect you if anything was to happen.
Not like anything ever did.
You found yourself not missing your old life.
The view you spent so much time trying to memorize, long forgotten. 
All because of him.
You woke up every morning in his arms.
His body wasn't warm nor was it cold. But the feeling of his skin under your fingers always lets you know that he was there.
And you couldn't ask for more.
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/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
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dimepdf · 2 years
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𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐔𝐓. + 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
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masterlist. / taglist. / any request? synopsis. maybe you did have a skirt kink?
pairing. football player!gojo satoru x reader
word count. 3.4K
genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni, football player au, mutual pinning, pwp, don't squint at the plot too hard now, idk how sports work, secret relationship, hookups, commitment issues, skirt kink, jealousy, heated kissing, teasing, touchy gojo, pussy drunk, car sex, backseat sex, oral (f), fingering, slight bratty reader, mentions of praise kink, name calling, pet names, unprotected sex(wrap before you tap), leather against skin, NOT BETA'D | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍
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It was the night of Gojo’s homecoming game. Football players spread across the field as the crowd roared, cheering for their respective university teams. 
In all honesty, you didn’t know little to anything about football, let alone sports, flinching out every time the students that sat on the bleachers next to you would scream out in excitement or shoot up from their seats to clap and cheer.
The word "bored" doesn't accurately convey how uninterested you were and how little you knew about college football. You didn't feel much better not understanding a single event that had unfolded while sitting in the brisk fall air.
Your ears and fingers were nearly numb from the absence of sufficient warming layers on your body, and you were shivering in the denim jacket you had stolen from Gojo's closet.
As the game entered the fourth quarter, you were trembling with each gust of wind and fidgeting with the gem-layered pendant that rested against your chest. 
It was obvious from the scoreboard, which you had to squint your eyes to see from the stands, that Gojo's team would win. The final score resulting, 38-14, caused students to stand up and shout in unbridled joy as the rest of the football team ran towards the field to celebrate their victory.
You still felt out of place despite being surrounded by so much school spirit, chanting, and screaming. In an effort to blend in with the crowd as much as possible, you sat as far away from the field as you could.
Watching Gojo celebrate with his teammates, shouting out in excitement and playfully tackling them into hugs, his long arms slinging over players so effortlessly, you couldn't help but smile to yourself.
You found it strange to hear other women gossiping and giggling about Gojo, saying things that you would utterly concur with. 
But the rumor that he was a sex god and was extremely strict about who he chose to hook up with was what you despised the most. How only the luckiest of pretty girls would he tempt back to his bedroom.
Even though you were hooking up with Gojo and had plans to return to his apartment tonight to give him some, you resisted the urge to lean in and let everyone know because you knew that doing so would make you appear crazy.
Realizing this would make you a colossal hypocrite since you were the ones who caused the difficulties in your relationship with Gojo. 
Being overly protective of your own heart and unwilling to let the blue-eyed playboy with a long history of "sleeping around" have to close a relationship with you.
You managed to make out his trademark white hair, which is typically styled but was now pulled back over his eyes.
You also noticed his prince charming smile, the skin that peaked out from under his jersey, and the figure that shimmered from the sweat drips covering his entire body, making him look like a magazine model under the field lights.
His eyes scanned the sea of people until they finally met yours, sending a chill down your spine.
When he saw you so out of your element and knew you were doing it specifically for him, his Chester-like smile only got bigger.
He winked as he returned his focus to his coach, leaving you fiddling against the bitterly cold bleacher seats as well as the girls seated in front of you giggling as if the gesture was intended only for them to lean against each other in an out-of-control fit.
You reminded yourself that the only reason you had endured it all was because of the stupid deal Gojo had made with you as your hands clenched against your thighs in frustration.
“How about we make a little bet ___, if i win this game you have to give me a special reward.”
Any bet you placed with Gojo was akin to making a deal with the devil himself.
The winding game of cat and mouse with you resolutely giving in to his childish antics, beckoning your attention until you fall back into his trap with enough time to have you pressed against the cool tile of the guy's locker room way after practice hours.
Fucking you stupid until you gain back that tiny sense of commitment-related fear by ignoring him entirely the next day.
Gojo and you had been hooking up for long enough for him to understand that every time you pulled away, he would just snap back much harder despite your foul mood.
When you needed a quick reminder of how good he would make you feel or how well he already knew your body to turn you into a trembling mess unable to stand up by yourself, he was always there with open arms.
And each time you fall for it. The dick was simply too good to throw away entirely. 
Because of this, you kept up your end of the bargain, swallowing the last of your pride, and stood in the parking lot's darkness to observe how the other students filed through the gates along the curb.
Around the time Gojo emerged from the locker room, the crowd had vanished quickly, going about their respective lives as they drove away in their cars.
Except for a few staff vehicles scattered about, the parking lot was deserted as you watched him approach closer while tossing his gym bag over his shoulder. 
His phone initially caught his attention, not taking notice of you, swiping his thumb against the screen.
His head jerked up at the light ding notification from the phone in your pocket, and he followed it with his eyes, grinning to see you shivering by the curb for him.
He looked at your baggy outfit and lifted his brow, saying, "I'm going to be pretty disappointed if you aren't wearing my gift under that." He teases you by strolling past you with a yawn that seems uninterested, each long stride ending in the direction of his car as you simply followed his trail with a huff.
"Don't fucking worry. I've been freezing my ass the entire game wearing this stupid thing." Unbutton until the midsection of your torso to show a glimpse of the brightly colored cropped cheer uniform top you had tucked away under the fuzzy inside of his jacket, deciding there would be no harm in just giving him a peek.
The cut ending just under the curve of your ribs exposes the pudge of your stomach entirely. The uniform was very obviously designed for cookie-cutter, precisely shaped cheerleaders with pale skin, ponytails, and thin bodies who looked like they belonged in any stereotypical teen movie. 
Gojo almost drooled at the material you had to squeeze yourself into, clinging to every curve and crevice of your body.
You pulled the hem down, but it still didn't cover much since you could see the skin of your torso next to the top's strangely clashing colors. 
Gojo trapped you against the passenger side door, looming over you, and murmuring, "I think you've got to be the prettiest girl on the team ___." He spoke in a deep voice that made it difficult for you to look him in the eye, your thighs threatening to squeeze together as his hands crept under the jacket around your hips.
"Yeah, yeah, I know I look exactly like your basic ass type. Can you hurry and just unlock your car before someone fucking sees us already?" The Gojo was giving you all of his attention, but you were good at ignoring him to a point, pressing your palm flat against his muscular chest. 
His fingers reached out to grab you by the jaw as he only leaned in closer, maintaining his smile the entire time. He did this to forcefully draw all of your attention to him.
"That’s not very school spirit of you, ___. Shouldn’t you be congratulating me on winning?" It was all an act to enrage you even more, but it was working due to the pout on his lips and the way he glared down at you. 
You try to stop your heart from racing by pulling your face away from his hold and crossing your arms. 
It appeared as though he had cornered you and was treating you like prey—just another bug that had gotten caught in his web. You could feel Gojo's words brushing against your skin as he hummed, "You know, you have such a fucking potty mouth," sending a shiver up your spine.
His long fingers caressed your hips as he purposefully wedged his leg between yours. His light touch now extended under the jacket with both of his hands. 
He pressed against you until you could feel the print of his erection against your stomach as your back rested against the car window. "I’ll forgive you if you show me the skirt."
"Gojo." In a plea, you breathe out his name.
The last thing you wanted to do was to be caught flaunting some poor girl's stolen uniform when you were already feeling self-conscious about only showing the top.
"___." He rolled his eyes and moved away, saying, "That's too bad, I only give rides to pretty girls in skirts." In a bored tone, he told you. His normally innocent smile had been replaced by an uninterested glare as he cocked his head.
He was practically swinging bait in your face, and you knew that the only thing he seemed to enjoy more than playing football was teasing you.
As a result, you became the first to play along with his scheme. 
As you reached down and untied your sweatpants, shimming to pull them down to your thighs, a matching skirt set was revealed from beneath the gray cotton, his eyes never leaving yours until you broke eye contact first.
He breathed out at the view of your thighs crammed into the snug cuffed ends of the skirt's safety shorts watching as his eyes take in the sight of your body. 
You weren't sure why you were acting so shocked when Gojo chuckled and reached out to pinch the plush of your legs, but he quickly pulled back before he could become overly excited by touching you.
"Okay, you've persuaded both my dick and me. If you don't want me to fuck you in the open parking lot, get in the car, slut." 
The journey to wherever he was taking you seemed a lot worse to you. Your exposed thigh is being squeezed by his hand, which seems to be rising steadily. 
If you knew he was going to tease you for the next twenty minutes, you would much rather have him fuck you in the parking lot. Not enough of the music blaring from the radio could help you calm down as you writhed at the growing need from beneath your skirt.
Even with the sun gone and the roads seeming like a maze at night, you could tell from the turns and exits which spot he had turned into.
His fingers danced across the precarious line of fingering you in his car or not while his eyes were fixed firmly on the road. 
You even spread your legs wide to get the perfect angle for his hand, but he moved quickly to step back just far enough to deny you what you were pleading for.
What a fucking tease.
"You're so fucking insufferable," you grumbled, causing him to laugh heartily. 
"Oh, shut the fuck up," he quips. "You act like you're not eating this shit up."
"You think I like being dressed like this?"
"You agreed to it," he reminded you, his hand laying a teasing smack against your thigh. "Just admit that you fantasize about being folded like some cheap slut in a porno. I won't kink shame, angel." 
"Don't call me that," you whined. "I’m not some fucking slut."
“Well yeah duh,” he grinned side eyeing you only for a second. “But you’ll sound like one when I'm done with you.”
He backed into a more private space further into the deserted parking lot, engaged the car in park, and turned the radio volume down until it was barely audible over the sound of the late night.
He slapped his hands against the steering wheel, leaned back against his seat, let out an exasperated sigh, and then grinned impishly in your direction.
“The stars look just as pretty as you, ___.” 
"Oh yeah, and how many girls do you usually say that to?" Rolling your eyes, you tried to contain the warmth that accompanied the sincere compliment. 
"Only to the cheap sluts that I really want to fuck." He responded dryly, watching with a gulp as his eyes glanced at your lips. "You’re driving me crazy, baby." He finally snapped, leaning over the dash to kiss you, only being able to hold the whole arrogant persona for so long before he needed you as much as you needed him.
You couldn't claim to have much prior experience having sex in a vehicle. 
His room or yours would typically be where the two of you would spend time alone, but since your roommates were home and Gojo's fraternity was probably packed with people throwing a party in his honor, you had to make do with getting down in his car.
Holding yourself in place and pushing yourself closer so that you wouldn't completely topple forward, all you had to do was twist and strain.
You could just tell from the low grunts and small sighs that Gojo was getting a bit frustrated, his long limbs cramped into the small space. "Can’t you just sneak me into your place?"
"Oh yeah, you could just introduce yourself to my roommates while your balls are deep inside of me, maybe even shake my parent's hand and tell them about your skirt kink too."
"God, you're such a fucking bitch." Gojo sighed, nipping at your bottom lip, "you're lucky I'm into that." Gojo sighed, licking his lips before opening his door. 
After he slammed the door shut, the overhead light flickered, and you puzzledly watched as he opened the back door rather than crawling into his seat before turning to you with an expectant look that beckoned you to join him.
You managed to crawl through the seats with a bit of a struggle, settling yourself against the other door as Gojo guided your legs apart to make room to slot himself in. "Best gift ever," he muttered as you changed into your full-fledged outfit, shedding the jacket and sweats that had covered you to the ground. 
The moment that Gojo had ducked under the hem of your skirt, your fingers tangled a handful of his hair in a fist, shivering at his eagerness, feeling his teeth tease against the skin of your thigh. Finally, paying much attention to the eagerness between them, his fingers probed and nudged against your clit until he had hooked your underwear to the side.
Your body responded before you could even process what was happening. His tongue teased at your clit, his fingers dipped between your folds, and the sound of your breathy groans spurred him on to move swiftly.
With your needy whimpers, fingers clamping down firmly in the nest of his hair, grinding against his fingers, and the sensation of your legs twitching and quivering, just the taste of you on his tongue was like unwrapping another reward.
However, you weren't a fool. 
You were aware of how pussy drunk Gojo became each time he would eat you out, usually wanting to have you stumble out his name with tears threatening to prickle your eyes. When it came to going down on you, he was the type to lick the plate clean.
This is why you were taken aback when Gojo suddenly stopped and raised the material on your skirt to look you in the eyes. 
He continued to work his fingers in and out of you as if he weren't attempting to carry on a conversation while teasing, "Be honest, you so have a skirt kink."
As you attempted to comprehend the question, let alone provide a sarcastic response, your lashes fluttered and your head spun. 
Any train of thought that tried to escape your mind as Gojo's fingers worked their magic "I-i'm." is the only thing you could stutter out. 
"I-I, you what baby?" His laughter made you squint your eyes shut, and you covered your face with your hands as he mocked you in a flat tone. 
Gojo leaned up and grabbed you by the wrist, pulling your hands away from your face to give you a more delicate kiss on the lips, muttering mostly to himself, "You're so cute."
Leaning into his touch, you suddenly felt his fingers pull away from you, making a humiliating wet sound that you ignored since Gojo had already diverted his attention to another part of your body. He was fondling your breast through the crop top as his fingers explored.
You could tell from the way Gojo smiled against your mouth that he was biting back on making some stupid joke the moment that his fingers made out the bud of your nipples.
As he pulls away, his other hand switches back to tracing the plush of your thighs before quickly removing your skirt. 
He peeled it off of you without a bat of the eye, not wanting to struggle with the safety shorts that were sewn in under it like he had to do when he had blindly gone down on you. 
Bumping his elbow and leg against leather seats as he sat up trying to strip his own shirt, a loud thump jortles you from your daze. Only then had you realized Gojo’s hiss of pain.
 His normally pale face was now flushed pink, and he scrunched his brow, rubbing the back of his head. "This is the thanks I get for having such a big dick.”
He leaned back down, perfectly squeezing himself between your spread legs, and asked, "Wanna kiss it better?" while getting dangerously close to your lips. He didn't wait for a response simply because he could tell you were only glancing at his lips.
His head dove to hide in the crook of your neck with a grunt, as your fingers searched for the bulge that reacted with a twitch after you had grabbed him by the elastic of his shorts.
You didn't hesitate, never did, knowing what you both wanted as his fingers spread your pussy apart.
You couldn't help but feel intoxicated while listening to his shift in breathing as your hand guided his length to press against exactly where you wanted it.
Sharing a relieved gasp as he shifted his hips against yours, the feeling of him burying himself inside you completely, Gojo was too lost in the bliss to joke about how good it felt to have you clench around him.
Your hips move in unison, seemingly motivated by a primal urge to pursue the intense arousing sensation that had been building up. 
Gojo, rubbing his thumb in circles against your clit while whimpering into your neck about how gorgeous you were.
As the intensity of his thrusts increased, steam built up on the car's windows, and the air became humid as the car's slight creak gave way to the weight shifting inside. 
Few actual words were spoken because the two of you were too preoccupied with making each other feel good to even form sentences that had any proper finishes.
Gojo readjusted himself, finding the spot that caused your muscles to tighten and spasm. Hooking your leg over his shoulder, nearly causing it to hit the ceiling as he grunted at you while clenching around you continuing his pace until your orgasm unfurled.
Despite being athletic, Gojo went completely slack, falling with his entire weight against your chest, panting as if he were in practice running a mile.
He found calm in the thump of his heartbeat against your chest. "Hey, so about the roommate thing," Gojo spoke after he had eventually caught his breath, cuddling against your chest as his fingers played with your pendant. "I wouldn't mind meeting them, or your parents, or telling anyone honestly; I just would prefer to do it fully clothed if that's okay."
You blinked. "You mean you want this to be like an official thing?" you asked, finally working up enough energy to sit up against the side of the door.
Wincing at the uncomfortable feeling of your sweaty bare skin dragging against the leather material of the seats. "Like this, you no longer refer to me as a slut but as your girlfriend instead."
"Well, I still want you to be my slut, but calling you girlfriend doesn't sound too bad either, does it?" Gojo shrugged.
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goldengalore · 17 days
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Ready
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An anxious!reader fic.
Summary: Harry wants kids. Y/N isn’t sure what she wants. Feeling pressured to make up her mind, she agrees to something she’s not ready for.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: angst, smut
A/N: Hello! It’s been a while. This fic is based on this ask I received forever ago. Enjoy :)
***
Y/N has always been on the fence about having kids.
As a young teenager, she assumed she would have them when she grew up, fell in love, and got married. Social norms, along with her own childish naivete, made her believe that this was the only path one could take in life. Having children was the next logical step to marriage, which was the next logical step to falling in love.
And then she matured and realized that life is not nearly as cut-and-dry, that having kids is a choice, not a necessity, and that she can absolutely go her whole life without having any if that’s what she wants. This realization came as a relief but also felt somewhat unnerving because how is she supposed to know what she wants? She is quite possibly the most indecisive person on the planet, so it’s no surprise that she has bounced back and forth between wanting and not wanting children throughout her entire adult life.
On one hand, she thinks of her friends who have kids and how their lives have become utterly consumed by the little humans that require their constant care and attention. There is just so much that Y/N wants to experience and achieve before settling into a life like that.
Not to mention the horrors of pregnancy. It’s not exactly a walk in the park, having to carry a human life inside of you for nine months and then give birth to it. The health complications, the irreversible bodily changes, the sheer, agonizing pain of childbirth.
And yet, on some days, she fantasizes about becoming a mother, of holding a tiny life in her arms and nurturing it into a full-grown adult. An important character in these fantasies has always been the sweet, thoughtful, loving partner by her side who takes equal responsibility for their child. This person was always a faceless individual—an idealistic depiction of the kind of partner Y/N hoped to find someday.
And then Harry came along.
Sweet, thoughtful, loving Harry who, unlike her, was always sure of his desire to have kids. For him, it was never a question of whether he wanted them but a question of when.
That moment finally arrived for him a year ago. But Y/N wasn’t sure if she felt ready yet.
“What are you afraid of?” he asked her one day. “I don’t mean that in a judgemental way. Bringing a child into this world is scary for anyone, including myself. I’m just curious to know what your specific concerns are.”
“Well, there’s the usual stuff, like whether or not I’ll be a good mother—”
“You’ll be a phenomenal mother.”
She smiled at him, then continued, “Or whether my kids will be able to have a good future with so much chaos in the world...” She trailed off hesitantly.
“But there’s something else,” he said, gently urging her to share what was really holding her back.
“I… I’ve always been terrified of the idea of having to raise a child alone, either because something bad happens to the father or he leaves out of the blue or we break up and I’m left to take care of this child by myself. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I… I’ve never been able to shake this fear.”
“Doesn’t sound ridiculous to me. I was raised by a single mother, so I know it’s not an easy job.” He reached for her hand and kissed her knuckle, never breaking eye contact. “But I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. You know that, right? We’re in this together. We’re a team, always.”
She nodded. “I know.”
“Well, I’m alright with waiting until you feel ready. I want us both to feel ready before we jump into this.”
In the six months following that conversation, the topic would crop up several more times, like after Harry saw her interacting with his godchildren at a party or they walked past a cute baby in a stroller at the grocery store. Y/N didn’t mind discussing the topic. It gave her a chance to ponder and become more comfortable with the concept of motherhood.
Yesterday, Harry returned home from a month-long movie shoot in Sweden. Y/N surprised him by showing up at the airport. What he doesn’t know is that she has another surprise in store for him.
While he was in Sweden, she decided to go off her birth control and now wants to try for kids.
She plans on telling him later tonight once they get home from their friend’s birthday party. They’ve been all over each other tonight. That’s what being apart for a month does to them. Hell, even a week apart is enough to turn them into a couple of horny teenagers that can’t keep their hands off each other.
“You look so hot in that dress,” Harry whispers in her ear, half-joking because they both know this is his fifth time saying that tonight.
Emboldened by a couple glasses of wine, a tipsy Y/N whispers back, “I want you to put a baby in me.”
His eyes widen. He chuckles. “That wine bringing out your wild side?”
“I’m serious,” she states, glancing around to double check that no one is within earshot of their conversation. “I went off my birth control a month ago, after you left for Sweden.”
He stares at her blankly, like her words haven’t quite sunk in.
“H, I’m ready to do this.”
“Really?”
She smiles. “Yes.”
“We’re doing this,” he says as it finally sinks in. He kisses her wine-stained lips. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”
“Yes, please.”
Y/N can hardly keep her composure on the way home. Harry appears to be in the same boat, as he keeps sneaking glances at her while driving, his hand caressing her thigh. While he’s always been a responsible driver, she can sense the impatience in his maneuvers tonight.
Once they’re home, it’s almost a race to the bedroom. Harry gently pushes her onto the bed and climbs on top of her.
“Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to watch you walk around in this dress tonight”—he runs a hand down her front—“and not be able to bend you over and just slip my cock into you?”
She moans as he cups her pussy through her dress with a firm hand. He lets her grind against it for a minute before pulling away to take off his clothes. She follows suit.
Soon, they’re back on the bed, sharing another series of ardent kisses. By the time he goes down on her, she’s already dripping wet and he licks it up as if he hasn’t had a drop of water in days. Her hips grind against his tongue like they did against his hand just a moment ago. It doesn’t take her long to orgasm.
He shifts up the bed to hover over her body. He kisses her again while lining up his cock with her entrance. As he slides into her, she feels a slight discomfort from being stretched open for the first time in a month. He pulls out and pushes in a little deeper each time to let her adjust until he fills her up completely and she’s too immersed in pleasure to have a single coherent thought anymore.
“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he says, starting to pump in and out. “Gonna come inside you, yeah? Gonna come deep inside your tight little cunt and fill you up, put a baby in you. Is that what you want?”
Those words flip a switch in Y/N’s mind. She makes an involuntary noise that makes it seem like she’s agreeing with him, so he picks up his pace. Just as he finishes inside her, the terrible realization dawns: She is not ready to have a baby. Not at all.
“I love you,” Harry whispers in her ear, his body resting flush against hers as he comes down from his high.
Tears spring to Y/N’s eyes as she realizes what she’s done, what they’ve just done. When she doesn’t reciprocate his statement, he lifts his head to look at her. A tear escapes her left eye at that exact moment.
Concern furrows his brow. “Lovie? Hey, what’s wrong?”
She just shakes her head while staring at the ceiling.
“Y/N.” He caresses her cheek, urging her to look at him. “What’s the matter? Are you hurt? Did I go too—”
“We shouldn’t have done this. It was a mistake,” she says in a trembling voice.
“What are you talking about?”
She tries to sit up. Harry moves out of her way.
“I’m not ready, H. I’m not ready to have a baby.”
His face falls. “I— But— Then why did you say you were ready?”
“I don’t know… To make you happy?” She covers her face and hears him sigh heavily.
“Y/N, you can’t— You can’t lie about things like that just to make me happy. It’s not like we were deciding what to have for dinner. We’re talking about having a baby, for Christ’s sake.”
“I know that. Of course I know that. But I just— I see the disappointment in your face every time we talk about this, every time I tell you I’m not ready. You seem so sad, Harry. I hate it.”
“Well, I’m sorry I’m not able to hide my emotions as well as I thought I could. That still doesn’t mean you should lie to please me. I thought we were past foolish antics like this.”
She squints at him. “Foolish antics?”
He sighs again. “I didn’t mean it like—”
She turns away from him and gets off the bed.
“Y/N.”
She shuts herself in the bathroom. For a brief moment, a part of her resents him. Resents him for being ready to have kids before she was. For bringing it up so often. For making her feel as though she needed to lie about being ready just to make him happy.
But now, as she stares at her teary-eyed reflection in the mirror, she knows she has to take responsibility. She is the one who led him to believe that she was ready when deep down, she knew she wasn’t. He never once pressured her to make up her mind or acted like he loved her any less for not wanting kids yet. He never made her feel any type of way about it. He has done nothing but be the supportive, understanding partner he’s always been. It was her who doubted that. She let her own paranoia get to her.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Y/N? Can I come in?”
A few moments later, he knocks again.
“Please, lovie? I’m getting worried.”
Finally, she opens the door. He takes in her red, puffy eyes and tentatively places his arms around her, only pulling her in when she steps into his embrace.
They stand there silently until he says, “Why don’t we head over to the pharmacy and get you a morning after pill?”
She agrees, so they get dressed and head out. The ride to the pharmacy is a quiet one. Every time she glances at Harry, his eyes are focused on the road, both hands gripping the steering wheel, and he appears deep in thought. It’s the complete opposite of their ride home from the party, when he could hardly keep his hands or his eyes off her. She tries to think of ways to break the silence, but nothing feels appropriate. The last time she felt so awkward and unsure about what to say around Harry was when they first started going out and she was terrified of saying the wrong thing.
When they get back from the pharmacy, she swallows down the pill with some water and they head back to bed.
***
Y/N: Hey H, you on your way home? Hope you’re hungry, I made your favourite for dinner 😊
H: I have a business dinner tonight. Mentioned it this morning
Y/N: Oh! Sorry I forgot about that. I’ll save some in the fridge for you for tomorrow
H: Sure, thanks
Y/N stares at the message. She can’t tell if she’s reading into things or if Harry’s replies really are as dry and aloof as they sound. Her propensity to overanalyze everything makes it difficult to know. Ever since the incident in the bedroom a few days ago, it feels as though Harry has been avoiding her. Spending long days at the studio, coming home late at night when he knows she’ll be asleep, giving short replies, taking longer to text back. They haven’t had sex again since then either.
After scrutinizing their text conversation for twenty minutes, she comes to her senses and realizes that she can’t keep going on like this. It’s driving her crazy. What she needs to do is talk to him. But he’ll most likely be tired when he gets home.
At first, she thinks she’ll sit him down tomorrow morning and talk it out. But when he walks through the front door just after eleven o’clock that night, she can’t help herself.
She stands in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a cup of tea, when he enters. The dark circles under his eyes are noticeable. He has been willing to sacrifice his sleep just to avoid being around her any longer than he has to. Her chest constricts.
“Hey,” he says, placing his phone and keys on the counter. “You’re still up.”
“Can’t sleep.” She stares down into her half-empty mug, the remainder of the tea quickly growing cold.
“How come?”
“I can’t stop thinking.”
“About…?”
She swallows the lump in her throat and looks up at him. “About whether or not you’re upset with me and how I can fix it.”
He frowns. “Why would I be upset with you?”
“Because of what happened a few nights ago.”
His frown dissolves into something different—sympathy? Guilt?
“Y/N, I’m not upset with you about that.”
“Are you sure? Because it seems like it. You’re gone before I’m even awake and you come home when I’m going to bed. We’ve barely talked or kissed or cuddled in the past few days. I know you haven’t been that busy since you got back from Sweden, so… I don’t really see any other explanation.”
He stares at her wordlessly for a long time before speaking. “You’re right. I have been avoiding you. But it’s not because I’m upset with you. It’s because I’m upset with myself. I feel like I pressured you into doing something you obviously weren’t comfortable with. I never saw myself as someone who pressures people into doing things they don’t want to do. So, I suppose I’ve been feeling some shame and guilt about it… and then avoiding you because it’s hard to face these feelings.”
Y/N sets her tea on the counter. She never could’ve guessed that Harry felt this way. She was so convinced that he was mad at her, it didn’t even occur to her that he might just be feeling guilty about it all. After how long she has known him, it should have been obvious that the latter is more consistent with his character, but her anxious brain wouldn’t even let her consider that possibility. She walks over and wraps her arms around him.
“H, I had no idea you felt that way.”
He squeezes her tightly, resting his chin on her head. She turns her head to the side so that her cheek is against his chest.
“To be honest, there were times I felt pressured when the topic of kids came up,” she says. “But a lot of that pressure was created by my own fears and insecurities. I just hated disappointing you over and over. I was scared your feelings about me, about us, would change if I kept saying I wasn’t ready.”
“This hasn’t changed how I feel about you or us. Y/N, I want you more than I want kids. Way more. If you decided one day that you don’t want them at all, that still wouldn’t change how I feel about you.”
She pulls back to look at him. “Are you sure? That’s a dealbreaker for a lot of people.”
“Well, not for me. Not when it comes to you. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Suddenly, he lifts her up onto the counter and stands between her legs.
“So. What did you get up to today?” he asks, planting a kiss to her collarbone.
She rests her hands on his chest. “Hmm, what did I get up to? I hardly remember anything other than obsessing over this whole situation.” She laughs.
“Aw, lovie, I’m sorry I had you all stressed out.”
“It’s okay.”
“Maybe I can make it up to you. Help you relieve all that stress.” He peppers kisses along the side of her neck and jaw.
She sighs softly and closes her eyes. “I would like that.”
***
Thank you for reading! For more anxious!reader and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST
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gremlingottoosilly · 1 month
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loser konig tries to get krueger’s sister flowers but woops she’s allergic
Konig realizes he has a thing for your sneezing and coughing because you just look so precious and weak and utterly adorable and he totally needs to feel you in every way possible, so- Oh shit. He brings you pills you ask for - and dumps the stupid, overpriced bouquet in the trash. He honestly wanted to give you something romantic, since it was the day of love or whatever - but it's honestly obvious how pathetic his attempts are. Krueger scoffs at his friend, acting like a fool for his dumb sister, but he doesn't really care. Maybe, if you and Konig would get together, you'd finally move out of the house and allow your brother to turn it into the mancave of his dreams. Maybe Konig would stop being such a sadistic little bitch who loves to torture his enemies and kill entire teams worth of soldiers if he gets some pussy from time to time. Getting with the colonel is your ultimate service to the Geneva convention. It's like this with a lot of the gifts. He bought you a new phone - and accidentally broke the screen the same day. Bought you a pair of cool, expensive earphones that weren't compatible with your phone. I brought you a really nice ring and only then found out you have a gold allergy. he'd be fine with just giving you money, but there isn't anything romantic in this - and he doesn't want to seem like a depressed sugar daddy that would do anything for your cunt. He has standards! Like begging you to forgive him as you sneeze and whimper, and he pushes the gifts away so he can touch you. Carefully listening for everything that you want and then buying you this in bulk because he fucked up so badly, he wants to give you the world(( ignoring your pleads to just leave you alone too.
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nnon0 · 1 month
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J.Jaehyun Fic Recommendations
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For all the Jae lovers :)
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jinwoosungs · 2 months
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{ 013 }
- how they say goodnight to you -
featuring: gojo, geto, nanami, megumi, yuta
[ gojo ☽ ]
the moment gojo finds you already caught in a deep slumber was the only time he willingly remains quiet. his usually upbeat and cheerful voice being toned down into a hushed whisper of your name; the affection he felt for you being so evident and clear.
even his footsteps were lighter, tiptoeing across the hardwood flooring of your shared room as a soft smile graces his features. he carefully sheds off his clothes, never once looking away from the sight of your sleeping features. once he was comfortable enough, donning only a t-shirt and shorts, did he finally slide beneath the covers with you.
gojo feels the way you stir in your sleep, softly whispering to you how he was finally home to protect you from all the scary curses that go bump in the night. from beneath the pale lighting of the moon, he swore that he saw your sweet smile as you instinctively inched closer to him.
he wraps his arms around you, aquamarine eyes shining with absolute love and adoration, bringing you even closer to him when he wraps his arms around your back. his eyes slide shut while he allows his parted lips to meet with your forehead in a sweet kiss.
"goodnight, my love. i hope you have sweet dreams about me..."
[ geto ☽ ]
geto was never one to reject your need for affection, so when he heard your sweet voice calling out to him, asking if you could stay with him whilst he read-
who was he to deny his lover- of denying you of your wishes and desires?
so he extends his arms out to you, gaze appearing soft with an expression he only saves for you. during intimate moments like these, where it seems like it was just you and him against the world, geto knew that he could remain vulnerable with you.
for not only did he trust you with his heart, but his soul as well.
he basks in your purrs of his name, settling yourself atop his lap, the sensation feeling pure and familiar, like coming home. geto allows the tip of his nose to grace at your soft strands of hair before opening his book, reading to you, allowing his rich voice to fill at your ears.
geto had gotten perhaps 3 pages into reading the novel aloud when the sudden sounds of a soft snore was heard coming from below him. moving the novel to the side, he looks down at you with a tranquil expression, realizing that you had just fallen asleep on him.
"my my, what am i going to do with you?" he chuckles to himself softly before leaning in to press his lips against your cheek.
"rest well... i'll be here when you awaken."
[ nanami ☽ ]
feeling guilty for always coming home so late, it was truly nanami's decision to take some time off work and spend the day with you-
after all, it's what you deserved.
he swore that he lived to see you the joy paint your beautiful features, basking in the sounds of your laughter as you jumped into his arms. nanami would let out a soft chuckle while saying your name, allowing your infectious happiness to seep into him.
nanami, being the wonderful boyfriend that he always was, spends the day absolutely spoiling you. he takes you to your favorite restaurant and allows you to buy anything you wished to buy, stopping by your favorite stores while holding all of your bags.
never once did he complain, being so utterly in love with you that he felt fulfilled by just seeing your smile alone.
he ends up completing the day by sharing a bath with you, taking his time washing your beautiful form while lathering shampoo within your hair. as he continues to wash your body, he felt you slumping forward, nearly landing face first within the warm waters had he not caught you in time.
nanami calls out your name in a bit of a panic, "honey, are you alright?!"
only when he hears you letting out a yawn did he visibly relax, resting his back against the tub while chuckling. "i'm sorry, honey, are you getting sleepy?" his voice was filled with mirth when he presses a kiss against your bare shoulder.
"mhmm, just a little bit, ken..."
without saying another word, he wraps his arms around your front, bringing your naked back closer to his chest as he presses kisses against your damp skin.
"go ahead and rest, love... i won't be going anywhere anytime soon... i love you."
[ megumi ☽ ]
because megumi could finally enjoy the weekend, taking a break from classes, he decided to humor you and spend the night staying up watching b-rated horror films with you on your laptop.
none of the jumpscares particularly scared him, and in fact, he found it amusing to hear your laughter at the poorly edited effects. each time you would point at your screen, megumi would simply roll his eyes in response, but inevitably brings you into his arms.
he continues cuddling you even when you both decided to lie down against his mattress. with the scent of your hair overtaking his senses, megumi quickly loses interest in the movie and decides to press lingering kisses against the back of your neck instead.
you didn't seem to mind his kisses, still watching the movie with glee. he basks in your soft giggles, and rewards the sounds of your happiness with even more soft kisses against your skin.
when the movie ends, megumi was the first to sit up, eyes seeing the credits roll when he asks what you would like to watch next. he frowns a bit, not feeling even the slightest twitch coming from you.
feeling panicked, megumi calls out your name while gently shaking you, only to be met with the sounds of your soft snoring. a relief was felt coursing through him when he visibly relaxes.
"i can't believe you fell asleep on me, dummy."
you showed no signs of hearing him, which was perfectly fine in megumi's book, since this meant he could cuddle and spoil you with his kisses without completely embarrassing himself.
letting out a huff, megumi goes back to holding you, pressing your back against his chest once more as his lips worked on kissing the junction between your neck and shoulder.
"goodnight..." his soft voice was heard, allowing the single phrase of i love you to linger within the night air.
[ yuta ☽ ]
yuta found that he couldn't sleep, knowing how much he upset you earlier.
you had gotten into an argument, your insecurities seeming to run at an all time high as you had somehow convinced yourself that yuta stopped loving you because you seldom saw him anymore. he does his best to tell you that he has been keeping busy with his work as a special grade sorcerer; that such distance wasn't anything purposeful on his part-
apparently, that was not the answer you wished to hear.
in a fit of anger, you demand that he sleep on the couch, not wishing him to share the bed with you. because of his shock, yuta ends up remaining rooted to the spot, unable to move.
you had never once kicked him out of your shared room, and the fact that you were doing so now was a clear indication that he had messed up. when he didn't move, you finally acted by tossing a pillow and a thin blanket his way, forcing yuta to hide his hurtful expression as he left for the living room.
he was uncertain with how much time has passed, with the moon already hanging high in the night sky, painting his world in melancholic hues of blue. yuta hated being away from you; he hated hearing the sounds of your soft sobs and how it twisted at his heart so effortlessly.
even when he was caught in misery, he knew he had to make it up to you when morning came, with his mind racing, thinking about all the things he could do to make you smile again.
in the midst of his reveries, he freezes upon hearing the way your bedroom door opens. waiting with bated breath, yuta didn't even dare to move when he catches the familiar sight of your figure coming out of the bedroom and approaching him.
his eyes were wide, seeing you holding your own blanket close to your chest. and your eyes were still rimmed red due to your tears, making yuta call out your name with concern.
you remain silent, simply landing on top of yuta as he lets out an audible groan in response. you bury your head within his chest, and somehow- somehow, yuta knew that all was forgiven.
he allows his arms to wrap themselves around your back, the movement being as natural as breathing to him.
"i still don't forgive you."
"uh huh."
"'m only doing this because i can't sleep."
"yeah, i know baby."
"i'm still mad."
yuta couldn't help but chuckle, hearing the pout in your voice when he leans in to press a kiss against your hair, "how about i make it up to you? would you like to go on a date with me tomorrow?"
his smile was a triumphant one, feeling your nods against his skin.
"breakfast at your favorite café?"
"and lunch at that beef bowl place while finishing with dinner at my favorite sushi restaurant."
"you got it baby, you got it." yuta lets out a light laughter, evident of the relief he felt as he continued to hold you within his embrace.
he waits for your breathing to slowly even out, drawing imaginary shapes against your back while whispering your name like a reverent prayer.
"goodnight, baby... i hope you know that i will always love you unconditionally..."
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a.n. - because i would love to be kissed goodnight by my favorite jjk men 🥹
all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.
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marxo-fm · 9 months
Text
Sessions
Part One. Part ii and Sessions playlist is out now.
Summary: You’re König’s therapist, and he is utterly and dangerously obsessed with you. He will do anything and everything to make you his.
Warnings: Adult themes and language, plot with smut, smut smut smut, thigh riding (omg this is crazy) stalkerish!König, toxic!König, innocent!reader, virgin!reader, König is filthy…FILTHY, praising.
Words: 4.2K
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A/N: I’ve played COD before but just a little so I have no clue about it all (LMAO) but anyways my fyp is invaded with König and Ghost, not complaining, so I decided to write a little something. I heard he’s unstable (?) and there’s a bunch of fics where he has a therapist so I was like…lemme write something like this. I will give credits to writers who’ve inspired me once I find their accounts because I lost them smh. So don’t thank me for this, thank them. Also thanks to Brittany Broski, my rightful leader, for talking about König on the Broski Report Podcast. Made me want to write him some more tbh. ALSO THE GIF??? So scary in the hottest way.
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It’s been awhile since König’s last therapy session with you, and it’s been driving him crazier by the minute. He realized now, just how much he wants you, how much he desperately needs you.
——
Weeks turned into days, then hours, minutes, and then seconds. Every tick of the clock had König going mental. The thought of not spending those seconds with you drove him mad and drove him with such urgency to have you by him. To be inside of you, at that.
Fists clenched then unclenched, König couldn't stand it any longer. Desperation ran in his veins like a predator watching their prey. He wanted nothing else but to see what you were up to, and visiting your home, was just the solution to his thoughts and needs.
(…)
It's been a few weeks since your appointment with König, and you're growing concerned. You look at the empty chair in your office, that's been sitting lonely for quite a few weeks. He hasn't called or informed you on why he's been absent, and you're sure he never will
In all honesty, you have no clue why you're so upset about it. Upset about a client who's been absent for weeks too much to count. Maybe it's because you can't help him anymore, well—not anymore, he's still your client. But the mere fact that he's not there to tell you about his problems and stories, or how his day was, bothered you.
Sure, he has things to do. So much more important than meeting up with your therapist right? Surely not, you want to help König to the best of your ability—but he made it so difficult.
You get a phone call that snaps you out of your haze, you pick it up. Only to hear a client of yours on the phone bringing their appointment up, which is today. "Yes! Today at six, correct." You assured, sitting down promptly on your office chair. You're glad you have clients today, something that'll keep you busy.
(…)
König is sitting outside in his car in the rain. The pattering of the rain took over his rather obsessive thoughts. Not only was he in the car alone, but he was right outside your home.
He peeks through your window, seeing only a dim light through the blinds of your house. His chest rose as he took a deep breath, chuckling to himself about how insane this all is. Going all out for your therapist? Never would he have thought to be doing such thing, but he can't help his desires.
He sighs, he gets the urge to exit his car and step foot inside your house and it made him feel dizzy. The thought of just stepping foot inside your property and seeing the items, the furniture—and so forth—that belonged to you. Something you've chosen out and purchased for yourself, with love. Now that, drove him on edge.
He finally exits his car, slamming it shut behind him. The rain drops hit his huge frame and he takes bigger steps to the front of your house. Eager to see the place you call home. The place you eat, sleep, and breathe in. It's all insane, he thought, but he's König. Insanity doesn't faze him.
"Fucking hell, the fuck am I doing?" He chuckled to himself as he somehow manipulated his way into your house. His wet boots are off and placed on the rug that says, "welcome" which is funny in this situation.
He looks around the well kept home, the dimly lit kitchen and living room, as well as the deliciously scented candle that's lit in the living room. Smells like you, coconut and bliss. He takes it in, like the maniac he is.
There was nothing really intriguing to the eye in your home, it's simple and basic, but still very homey. You had your favorite comics on the tv table and the tv was obviously shut off, books were stacked against the bookshelf and a few magazines were on the tables. You love to read, guess that's new information for König to keep to himself.
His big frame hovers over your iPad, without hesitation, he opened it. There wasn't a passcode, just a simple press of the home button and he was in, it wasn't like you had anything to hide and König found amusement in that. König chuckled, there was simply nothing on the iPad besides dates on your calendars that showed you have appointments throughout the month.
"Busy little one, aren't you, Mein Schatz?" He breathed through his mask, though he took it off for the time being, there was no reason to hide himself through a mask when home alone.
He misses you, and it's getting more painful not having you there with him, in your home. He's wondering what you're up to now, and how much time he has left before that lock of your front door turns.
It's a bad idea, he's already seen everything he wanted to see, and now it's time to leave.
Quickly, he puts his wet boots back on and turns the door knob slowly. He looks back at your place and then smiles, this surely won't be the last time he's inside. And he'll make sure it'll be the both of you inside the home at the same time.
(…)
"Anything else you'd like to share, Ghost?" You question Ghost, his eyes telling you so much he hasn't said yet, and you doubt he'll tell you more. You wish he'd say more though, but you're actually proud of today’s session. He shared more than the other sessions, that's always a huge milestone.
"No." He said sternly, his British accent thick and his voice gravely. "Okay great. I'll see you next week then?" He cleared his throat and walks to the door, "busy."
"So when are you able to?" You wonder, "I'll call when I can." He opens the door from your office and leaves. You sigh, at least you tried to the best of your abilities. You close your notebook shut, putting the notebook back into your drawer as you finally set the pen down after.
So, where we're you again? Ah, it's time to go home. Finally.
Well—not just yet. As you're getting your things ready to leave, you hear your office phone ring. Your brows furrowed in confusion as to who's calling this late, all sessions are...closed.
"Hello?" You question, hearing heavy breathing over the phone—you shudder. "Schatz, it's me." The German accent rolled off the man's tongue over the phone, your heart dropped in response. König.
"K-König?" You stuttered, in disbelief at the sudden call. "Mhm, I'm calling to apologize for not coming to our sessions but if I'm being honest...I want to have a session soon this week." He explained over the phone, your brows scrunched.
You're free this week, no sessions left, well one session now. It surprised you that König chose to call you so late over an appointment, but it didn't bother you, just—stunned you. "Of course, when would you like-" König interrupts you suddenly, "tomorrow." He breathed, his voice lower than usual. Laced with huskiness and exhaustion, and need.
Tomorrow? You can't turn that down, because you know that if you do, he won't come to another session for a long time—you feared. You clear your voice over the line, heart beating faster by the second and you're not sure as to why. Must be the sudden urge to come to a session, or maybe because he wants it soon. It's not like you're busy tomorrow or anything, but the mere fact that you'll see König after God knows how long made you nervous.
Something must be wrong, you're sure of it.
"Sure! Tomorrow at two, promise me you'll be there?" He never breaks promises, not with you he doesn't. He agrees over the phone, and the date is officially set. Grabbing your pen you just placed down, you take your König's personal journal and write the date down for tomorrow.
(…)
He was trying to stay composed but it's getting hard. His desires have become more stronger by the minute, and he wanted nothing more than to have you by him.
He ended the call, smirking under the mask after finally hearing your soft voice over the phone. You invaded his mind like a virus he's unable to get rid of, but in all honesty he doesn't want to get rid of it. He would stare at pictures of you all day, and the thought that bothers him the most—the one that boils his blood—is knowing that you have sessions with other men that's not him. Most of them he despises, the other ones he's not really worried about, since well—they're his friends.
It's almost sickening how much he wants you, how much he deeply needs you. Now, König sits on his bed. Mask off and so is his shirt. Revealing nothing but his well crafted muscles and his mind going hundreds of miles per hour of just you.
And to fix that "issue" he takes his rough right hand and puts it underneath his sweats, and then under the hem of his boxers. Finally, he grabs his thick cock tightly and leans his head back. Nothing but images of you holding his dick for him instead, and that just about does it for him. Quickly, he starts to slowly stroke up and down, groans fill the silent room. His strong hand grips the sheets of his bed, the delicate fabric became victim to his touch.
The rings in his ear became louder as he swiped his thumb over his tip that was already leaking, everything around König became a blur as he thought of you continuously. He's never been this obsessed with someone until he met you. He gripped onto his dick harder and his body starts to burn with flames too powerful to put out—and his heart beats quicker.
He's closer to his high than ever, throwing his head back due to the aching pleasure that consumed him. His eyes look at the ceiling, all that hunts his mind is you. You hunt him every second of his day, even when it's König hunting for you. His insides began tightening, the way his cock began to throb in his hand and how his precum brushes against his calloused fingers when his hands move to his sensitive area.
He lets out a final grunt as he looks at the mess he made in his lap, wishing you were there to clean it all up. His orgasm hit him harder than ever, and his breath is shaky. Stunned at how good you made him feel, it wasn't him that made himself feel good, no—it was you. All of it.
He tensed at first, letting rope after rope of his come dirty his abs and sheets. "Look at what you fucking do to me, Liebe." He whispered, beads of sweat roll off his forehead.
(…)
The next day passed, the day König booked his session to see you. Of course he wanted to talk to you about what's going on, but he mostly made the appointment to see you. It's been a long long time. He puts on his uniform and mask, getting all ready for his missions and well—seeing you.
——
You hear a knock. A knock so familiar and it wasn't just like any other knocks from your clients. König had a habit of knocking exactly four times, and it's a habit he has with you. You shout, "welcome in!" as you take your notebook and pen out. You put your glasses on and present yourself professionally.
König's huge frame stands before you, and you gasped. It's been so long since you've last seen him, you’re now practically strangers. "König! You're here." You proclaimed, welcoming him with a simple hand motion to the chair. "Hello, Mein Schatz." He greets, his voice husky. He looks at you through his eyes, investigating the way you sit professionally and have everything well kept and neat. It almost bothered him, in a good way.
You broke the tension with a question, “anything new?” He continued taking a good look at you, hungrily. It doesn’t show through his mask, but his eyes tells you everything you need to know.
You cleared your throat, waiting for König’s response. “I don’t like the new addition to the missions.” He said sternly, his fists clench and you could tell that bothered him to the extreme. “Why is that? Do you perhaps think they’re weak and unnecessary?” You queried.
He shifts in his spot, “Ja, I don’t like unnecessary addictions. I find it a nuisance.”
“Is it because you prefer having the men you’re familiar with more.. than the new men looking to work the same missions as you?” He prompts his elbows on his knees, leaning closer to the conversation. He is clearly interested in answering. “Yes. Exactly. We don’t need anymore men, we have quite enough of them.” His German accent is thicker, deeper. Cutting through like knife to butter. Your pen wrote down his answers as well as your thoughts in the notebook.
He watched you like a hawk, looking at you closely while you do your job. “Is there anything else, König?” You wonder, his dull eyes sparkled when he hears you say his name. “Hm,” he voiced, “you.”
Your brows furrow at his answer, you cross your legs and place your pen down. Unsure of what he means, and well of course, the therapist you are, you think maybe he has something he needs to say about you. “Did I do something wrong?” You stammered, unable to look him in his piercing gaze.
He chuckled, and you think maybe you embarrassed yourself with such question. “No, Mein Schatz, I need you.” He put forth. Your stomach drops at his answer, crimson red swipes across your cheek and you feel as though you’re going to pass out.
Never in a million years would you have thought to hear König admitting to the fact that he needs you. It stunned you in all honesty.
“I can’t seem to stop thinking about you, Ich werde verrückt.” He points his index finger to his head, “what does that mean?” You question. The part where he spoke in German, you wonder what he means.
He stood up, and you scooted your chair back in response. “It means I’m going crazy, Liebe, you drive me crazy.” König voiced.
You mistook his answer, mistook it thinking that you made him crazy in the worst way possible. “I-I’m sorry, we can gladly stop our sessio-“ he interrupts you, and it’s not the first time.
“Ts ts, I don’t want to. I meant,” he paused, then began, “you drive me crazy with need.” He explained.
You never knew you made him feel that way, and you look around the office just thinking about how unprofessional this all is. “König, when would you like your next session?” You dismissed what he said earlier, you just need to recollect yourself. Your feelings, thoughts and emotions. He just looks at you, quietly.
You walk to the door, and he walks behind you. Each step he took was heavy—and loud, sending shudders throughout your body. He stood behind you, the heat radiating from his body and on to yours.
His right arm reaches out for the doorknob and your heart dropped into a million pieces. God, he knew how to make anyone nervous.
He opens the door for you, and he finds himself out first, but before he does, he says something. “Next week, Friday.” He states, and then walks out of your office.
You take deep breaths, like you’ve been choked and you’ve lost all oxygen. You’ve realized now, just how much König’s little actions made you feel hundreds of butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
(…)
König steps foot inside your office. It’s Friday, and what happened the last session felt like it happened yesterday. His mind is all you, it’s all its ever been. Now he will use this opportunity to his dismay. “Hello, König.” You greet professionally, seated on your black chair.
König takes a careful look at you, he misses you immensely although it’s been a week. He noticed your outfit. Your tight black skirt that hugged your curves perfectly, and your white button up accentuating your breasts. He could open your legs wide right then and there and devour you like he hasn’t eaten in days, he’s drooling at the thought.
You turn to speak, and his entire attention shifts to your plump lips. And of course, König’s mind is filled with dirty thoughts. Too lewd to think out loud.
“Is there anything in particular that you would like to discuss today?” Your soft voice made his ears ring, and he couldn’t help the bulge forming in his pants. König wanted to admit that you’ve been on his mind, but he held himself back and contained it. “I’ve just been stressed.” He admits, and it’s true. All the mission stuff had him drained by the second.
“Oh? And why is that?” You questioned, he manspreads on your couch in the office, using the space to sit comfortably. His long legs and big thighs were spread apart, making it a perfect seat for you to sit on, is what he’s thinking. You gulp at the sight in front of you, and he takes his time with his answer.
“I don’t know, honestly. There’s just something new everyday.” He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.
You get up from your seat and prompt yourself next to him. His knees touching yours, and your actions shocked König—just a tad. That’s a lie, it shocked him, a lot.
He wanted to fulfill his fantasies right there, he had you in his sight and reach, but again—containing himself. “Talk to me, König.” You comfort, rubbing small circles on his hand. The action caused him to flinch, but he doesn’t say anything—yet.
After a few seconds, he answers, “I got into a fight with a lieutenant. I’d rather save that for another session.” Groaned König. “Okay, if that makes you comfortable.” You drawl, “how about coming to three sessions in a row? When would you like your next appointment?” You made sure to ask if there was anything else, but to your surprise—there wasn’t.
“Today.” He states sternly, you’re confused. “It’s already today, König?” You trailed off, dissociating at his answer. “I know, Liebe, I want our session to begin today.”
“But we’ve already finished our session for today.” You argued, all that König had contained was finally let out. He grabs his hand and wraps it around your throat, his actions made you let out a loud gasp, and with that—König lifts his mask up and kisses you.
You instinctively kiss him back, aware of how unprofessional this all is, but oddly enough—you didn’t really care.
König groans against your hot mouth, sending vibrations down your entire body. König felt like he was in a dream, finally kissing you didn’t feel real, you tasted too good to be real. He finally has you in his reach, and in his mouth. Your scent overtook his senses, and it drove him right over the edge. He could fall off and die happily, knowing he’s finally tasted you.
You deepen the kiss, and he bit your bottom lip in return, alerting you to open your mouth wider and let him in. He wants to devour you whole and you just let it happen. His tongue finds yours, and there you both are, kissing each other so roughly. His grip on your neck tightens just a little, not too hard, still allowing you to breathe. Though the kiss had you suffocating already.
More, more, more. Is what König says to himself in his mind, but you let go of the kiss. String of saliva leaves his mouth as you let go. Oxygen had left your body entirely, and you’re there gasping for air. You wouldn’t be surprised to see if your lips had been bruised from the rough and deep kiss. You’ve never been kissed like that before, or ever.
The both of you pant, you can’t believe what just happened. You’ve fully realized what he meant earlier, insisting he has another session. This is the session, and you don’t think it’s going to end soon. “Come here.” He ordered, patting his thigh. Your eyes dart to his big thighs, thighs that could crush you if he wanted to.
You did as he said, sitting right down on his right leg, in your point of view—to your left. He holds your waist tightly, balancing you so you don’t fall. Though you’re already holding onto his broad shoulders for support. “Why do you have me like this?” You question, flustered. König loves to see it, to see you flustered even though you never tried to admit it. He had that power.
“Liebe, do you know just how much I crave you? How much I’ve wanted to see you like this…?” he began, “you’re going to do as I say, right?” He asked lowly. You nod, heat rushing throughout your entire body from his needy words. You never knew how much he needed you, and it actually hit you. König, out of all people.
Secretly, you loved that. His desperation made you admire him, it must’ve been so difficult to contain such desires and feelings. Unaware of what he’ll say or do next, you wait. Patiently.
“Ride me, Mein Schatz.” Your mouth gaped open at his words, his fingers dug deep into your skirt, so deep you’re afraid it’ll leave a bruise. “K-König, what?” In disbelief, you stay still. You’ve never done anything of the sort, for fucks sake, you’re a virgin. König doesn’t know that—yet. Though you plan on telling him. And you plan on telling him now.
“I’ve never done this before, I’m a virgin, König.” You murmured lowly, but still loud enough for him to hear. “Oh, meine Prinzessin,” he looks at you like some prized treasure you are. His prized treasure that he wanted to display for the world to see. “Do you want to do this?” He consented, you look at him with eyelids so heavy.
You’re more than sure you want to do this with him, virginity isn’t a game, and you knew that. He knew that too. But you want to give it to König and you’ve already confirmed it before saying anything.
“I…I do.” You cup his face, hidden back underneath his mask. “I can’t go on if you’re not sure, liebe, tell me—do you want to do this?” He repeats his question, and you want to shout at his face the word yes, but you remain calm. “I really do, König. Show me the real you.”
“Want me to show you?” His accent is stronger laced with hunger, pulling you closer to him. He got the affirmation he needed, and you nod in assurance. He grabs your hips at once, and slowly moves them back and forth. Your brows furrow at the feeling of your soaked panties grinding against his rough combat pants. The new feeling had you addicted and König loves to see you fall apart little by little.
His cock ached and pressed harder against his pants as your hands grip onto his broad shoulder, tighter. The friction from his pants and your grinding made you let out a moan you didn’t know you were capable of making. A moan König could only hear in his head, except it became reality, and König was trapped in a haze. He saw the way your face contorted in pleasure, the way your lips pout as he helped you ride it out.
“So beautiful.” He huffs, pulling you back and forth even faster. You could feel your stomach twist into knots, alerting you that your orgasm is near, but riding against his thigh wasn’t enough. You needed more. “K-König…please.” You whimpered out, he tilts his head, getting the hint.
“Please what? Mein Schatz?” It felt like he was teasing you, but maybe he just needs to know what you’re saying please for. “Touch me.” You demand, desperately needing his rough and big fingers to touch you. “Ohhh darling, you don’t have to ask me twice.” He does just as you asked, rubbing slow circles with the pad of his thumb on your clothed cunt. He smiled under his mask at how wet you are.
The bundle of nerves formed tightly, forming at the very pit of your stomach. Flames ran through your veins and your body burned with lust. You found it difficult to hold his gaze as your orgasm is nearing. “You’re too good to me, liebe, you’re doing so good.” He praised, his eyes focused on your motions and he could just come at the sight of that. “K-König! I’m going to-“ he interrupts you, grabbing your hips with both of his hands and moves you back and forth impossibly faster.
“Come, schön, be a good fucking girl for me and let it out. I know you can do it.” He grunts, talking you through it. His praising and words of encouragement did just enough for you to reach your high. It felt like fireworks were exploding in your stomach, and your legs shook. It was all too much to bare, and you still rode it out.
“Attagirl, wasn’t so hard now was it, meine Liebe?” He appeals, holding your waist still as you tried to regain every last bit of dignity left with each inhale and exhale. “You think we’re done yet? Oh love, we’re just getting started.”
——
NOTE: This is just part 1 peeps, I honestly thought it was getting a bit too long (imo) so I thought—hey—why not turn this into a mini series? Hehe. Stay tuned for part 2, coming very soon. Also, if you’d like to be in my tag list, it’d be my pleasure. Just let me know in the comments. (Btw, English is definitely not my first language…so if there are any grammatical errors and mistakes, please let me know in the comments so I can fix them.)
:)
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somerandomdudelmao · 10 months
Note
Okay okay hear me out.
We all know that Donnie was devastated to discover what happened to his brothers. But in light of the most recent update, new meaning has been added to the panels of him watching their deaths' play out.
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Look at him here. At first glance, it simply seemed that Donnie was grieving the loss of his brothers. "We lost. They're all gone. My dumb dumb brothers sacrificed themselves. I'm alone."
BUT after today's update, we realize that NOOO he's not just regretting that they're gone, he's BLAMING HIMSELF. Not only is he sad, he feels GUILT.
Looking back, his face clearly says, "I could have stopped it. I could have saved them. I failed. This is my fault."
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"If I had been with you, the outcome might have been better." What hurts is that Don is RIGHT. He WAS the keystone of the resistance. Everything does indeed fall apart soon after he's gone (hence the episode name). It's a cruel, ironic twist on Survivor's Guilt-- because in that timeline he didn't survive. He was gone. And he blames himself for being gone.
We often talk about Future Leo's guilt over the apocalypse, but Future Donnie's guilt is not to be taken lightly. It actually makes a LOT of sense for him to blame himself for his family's deaths. We know that all dear Donton has ever wanted is validation for his tech, and his tech is his way of expressing to his family that he loves them. Ergo, all Donnie wants is to make tech to protect his family to Show Them That He Loves Them.
This is probably why he opened up to Raph, all but admitting his guilt over the less-than-perfect security system: it was like saying he and his love failed to protect them for long.
The character analysis deepens~
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Here (and throughout all of The Little Things, really) we see him taking steps to make sure his brothers (and the resistance) will be taken care of. Delegating everything, even The Little Things (ah HA) all to ensure that all he does for them (to prove his love, of course) continues to happen.
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Even here, when Donnie has been hanging onto life for so long that the Kraang are shocked he's still alive, Donnie wants to help. He could not "sit here and listen to them get killed," because he is Donatello, and he loves his family. Cass, you said it yourself: Violence is his love language. Rushing into battle, decimating the Kraang, saving his family. Because he may be dying, he may be clinging to life by a few threads, but he is Hamato Donatello and he loves his family.
But in the end, that's what he does. In the end, he DOES sit there and watch them get killed. Watches with his very own tech. One. By. One. They. Die. And deep down, Donnie thinks that if he would have been there, he could have found a way to make a generator NOT from Raph's heart. That he could have supported Mikey enough to keep him from disintegrating. That he could have protected Leo in those final, self sacrificial moments.
Donatello blames himself for not being there for his brothers. He blames himself for his tech not being flawless enough. He blames himself for dying on them.
Which is why he won't rest until they're ALL back home.
He is Mr. "I Can Fix This", so of COURSE he's going to fix this.
And afterwards, when his family is SAFE and HOME and TOGETHER he's going to apologize for "letting them die" and he's FINALLY going to get some SENSE knocked into his OWN dumb dumb brain (probably by Dr. Delicate Touch). His brothers love him because he's DONNIE. I cannot WAIT for the moment when they make him realize that they didn't miss his tech, they missed HIM. He's gonna realize just how utterly loved he is and I'm so excited for you, Cass, to show us that moment.
(I apologize; this got out of hand quickly, but the analysis has been bouncing around my head all day and I NEEDED to share it)
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OH THIS IS ONE GREAT ANALYSIS RIGHT HERE
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