Tumgik
#basically: I don’t fit in again and I’m still trying to fit in.
augustinewrites · 7 months
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satoru absolutely does not know how to ride a bike idk how i know this but i know cw: suggestive content, mdni
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“that was…good,” satoru settles on, still unable to properly articulate. he whines, still a little lightheaded and breathless as you roll off of him with a laugh, pressing a kiss to his shoulder before tucking yourself into his side.
“just good?” you tease, fingertips gliding over his chest. “if i’d known there was going to be a review, i’d have done that thing with my hips that you like.”
you roll your hips against his thigh, sending a warm chill down satoru’s spine. 
“don’t do that,” he warns, but his face is flushed and he can feel himself getting hard again. “unless you want to leave the kids at your dad’s for another night.”
“oh! speaking of the kids!” your sweet movements stop abruptly, causing him to peek one eye open to send you a long suffering look. “my father bought the kids bikes yesterday, and i told him you’d teach them how to ride them.”
now, it’s no secret that gojo satoru is good at a lot of things. 
he can manipulate the infinity around him and exorcise special grade curses with the flick of his wrist. he knows the words to every avicii song and can make mug cakes that don’t always explode in the microwave. 
there’s only one thing he can’t do. 
“i remember when my dad taught me,” you sigh. there’s a fondness in your eyes as you describe the memory. it’s something special and cherished, and satoru wants that for his kids. 
_____
“this isn’t funny, shoko!” 
“you’re right.”
“thank you—”
“because it’s hilarious. gojo satoru, the strongest sorcerer of our time, never learned how to ride a bicycle.” 
she trails off in a fit of laughter. satoru hasn’t heard her laugh like this in a long time, and he’d be ecstatic if her amusement hadn’t come at his expense. 
“i didn’t have anyone willing to teach me!” he tells her, huffing. “it was all cursed technique this and cursed technique that. not to mention bikes are literal death traps on wheels.”
“motorcycles are death traps on wheels. bicycles are for babies,” she corrects, though he can still hear the laughter bubbling in her response. “why’d you even agree to teach them?”
“because she did this super hot thing with her hips, but focus!” he whispers harshly. “i can’t teach the kids how to ride a bike! what if i just bought a car—”
“only you would try to buy a car for an 11 year old.”
“not for megumi. tsumiki’s basically 13. she can start learning so when she’s old enough—”
“so tsumiki is going to learn how to drive before you learn how to ride a bike? you are so tragic,” she snickers. 
well, it sounds lame when she puts it like that.
he looks up when the sound of the shower running stops. “and you’re useless,” he growls into the phone. “i’ll ask nanami.” 
_____
NOT GOJO 
[shoko]: i heard gojo’s teaching the kids how to ride their bikes
[you]: yeah :) i’m so excited!
[shoko]: me too.
[shoko]: can you send videos?
[nanami]: I would also like to see videos. 
[you]: sure. but why the interest?
[shoko]: bcs i care about them and want to celebrate their achievements
[you]: you didn’t come to megumi’s violin recital because you said you valued your eardrums. 
[nanami]: It will be a fun moment to look back on when they’re older. 
[shoko] yeah that ^
[you]: fine i’ll send videos.
______
the sun is just beginning to set and the city beginning to settle when you take the kids to the park. 
“i really think—”
“satoru, we are not teaching megumi how to teleport to school.”
“but if he uses the shadows—”
you thrust a helmet into his hands, stern look shutting him up immediately. 
“fuck,” he mumbles once your back is turned to help the kids. he shoves the helmet onto his head and buckles it tightly.
the kids walk over to him with their little bikes, the huge helmets on their head making them look like bobble heads. 
you document his torture with a quick photo before giving him the floor. 
“riding a bike is…super simple,” he tells them, patting the seat of your bike. “you get on, put your feet on the pedals, and…pedal.”
the kids only stare at him, confused looks on their cute faces. 
“maybe you should just show them,” you suggest. 
“why don’t you show them?” he quickly deflects. please please please—
“no! i’m taking the video!” 
fuck.
satoru grips the handles of the bike tightly. he’s faced the worst of the worst, died and come back to life. he could ride a stupid bike.
he kicks at the stand your bike is leaning on, getting it up on the fourth kick. he swings his right leg over so he’s straddling the seat, his feet planted firmly on the ground.
it can’t be that hard, can it?
“watch and learn, kids.”
he takes a breath, then pushes off and places his feet on the pedals.
the bike rolls forward slowly. it’s wobbly at best, but he’s doing it. he’s doing it! he picks up a little momentum, heading off into the sunset—
“satoru! don’t lead them downhill!”
sure enough, the path in front of him leads down a slight decline. he squeezes the brakes and jerks to the side, sending him toppling over the bike and into the grass.
as he lays in the grass, dazed, megumi and tsumiki bike right past him. he’s sure the former even rolls his eyes.
“they have training wheels,” he says when you run over to check on him. “they’re cheating—”
“do you not know how to ride a bike?!”
“i never learned,” he grumbles, cheeks blushing at the admission. 
“oh, honey,” you sigh, brushing some grass from his shirt. “why didn’t you just tell me?”
you kiss his brow, unable to hold back your laughter as he pouts. “you were so excited about me teaching them. didn’t want to disappoint anyone.”
“you could never disappoint us,” you tell him firmly. “now come on, i’ll teach all three of you.”
so you teach him, holding onto the back of his bike until he’s steady, until he’s confident enough to do it on his own. 
he’ll get the hang of it eventually.
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atyourmerci · 2 months
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♡ Everybody knows I’m a good girl, officer! ♡
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♡ ♡
Summary: You are stealing at your local mall when you are caught by cop abby. She brings you to the back rooms where you use your body to get out of jail<333
Warnings: smut, MDNI, slight age gap not mentioned (reader is early 20’s abby is in her 30’s), dom!abby, sub!reader, fem!reader, degradation, ma’am kink, handcuffs, strap (referred to as her cock), spanking
A/N: I know I said this was going to come out later this week but I was sooo into this I couldn’t put it down hehe. I know yall feigning for her so I hope you enjoy, feast! Also not proofread I’ll do that later lmao
♡ ♡
You make your way out of the tall metal windowed doors, in your frilly pink mini skirt that barely covers the tops of your thighs, white crop top with jewels across your bare tits that says “princess” bags full of things that may have accidentally slipped in! And of course a cherry lollipop lazily strung out on your tongue.
Everything was going as planned as you confidently strolled out the mall doors as you always did, until…
“You again!” You hear a pointed voice yell from behind you, you can’t look back and give yourself up so you continue your pace, confidence slightly faltering. “HEY!” The voice only gets louder and closer, but you can’t bear to look.
All of a sudden what you assume to be the angered voice pulls your arm so roughly you stumble back with a wince, dropping your lollipop with a crash. You’re finally able to look at your match, a bruiting blonde as tall and wide as an ox. She looks at you with gritted teeth ready for conviction, all you can stammer out is a pathetic pout.
With furrowed eyebrows she scans your body up and down as if to make sure you were the convict she’d be tracking. Her eyes take a pause at your jewel adorned breasts, she seems to snap out of her gaze, “not this time princess, let’s go.”
She says it as you have a choice, she begins basically dragging you by the heels back into the mall. You think of running, but there’s no use, she’s twice the size of you, she could have picked you up with a finger and thrown you back in.
“Wh- where are we going!” You wiggle under her grip and she drags you, trying to avoid the gaze of innocent onlookers. She ignores you and mumbles something into her walkie, a bunch of codes you don’t understand but added in that she wouldn’t need backup, a sigh of relief floods over you.
“Please, im sorry I promise I’ll take everything back!” You plead as you make it further into the back of the mall. “Shut up brat,” she almost spits back at you, and tightens her grip even further into your fragile skin.
“Ouch! You’re hurting me!” You say in a wine as you reach what looks to be like a back room of the mall, with her grip still on your arm she uses her free hand to fumble at her keys to unlock the unmarked door.
She lets out a breathy giggle at your pouting, still focused on finding the key, “that’s going to be the least of your problems.” You don’t want to know what she means, and you don’t have the courage to ask so you continue wiggle around her grasp like a child while she unlocks the door.
The room is dark with only a small window at the top of the room that you can’t see out of, some boxes and cleaning supplies, a metal table with two chairs and a table lamp. As she walks her broad structure through the threshold she wastes no time to rip you by the arm and practically throw you into the concrete box.
“Sit” she barks and you almost jump into the cold metal chair, you gasp as your lacy clad cunt touches the hard chilly surface. She doesn’t take the same memo and stands before you, arms crossed. You are finally able to get a real look at her, she’s rugged but clean, long blonde that falls behind her, her arms barely fit into her uniform as her biceps protrude around the navy cloth, the veins pulsing throughout her hand.
You don’t mean for it to happen, but your pussy beings pulsing at the sight of her, you grip the cold metal of your chair averting her defining glare. it feels wrong, it is wrong, but it was an accident!
“Aren’t you going to beg for your innocence?” She cuts the silence. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!” You pout at her with doe eyes. “Lying to me is only going to make it worse sweetheart, try again”
“Okayyyy I’m sorry I’ll take everything back I promise!” You tug out your bottom lip. “Awh heard that one before, try again” she says pacing closer to you so that you have to raise your head to look at her. “It was an accident, I’m a good girl officer, I swear!” You bat your eyes in an effort to pull out a fake tear.
She lets out a giggle at your words, almost appeased with you, “does princess want to go to jail tonight, huh? Is that what you want?” She taunts you. “No please! I’ll do anything please!” You beg, real tears starting to form in your glossy eyes. “Oh is that so…” she pulls her thick hand up to your chin gripping it harshly so your flesh molds into her grasp “anything?”
“Anything, I’ll do anything!” You plead as hot tears run down your face. A devilish smirk adorns her face as if she already had her plan made out, you were fucked. Hook line and sinker fucked.
“Get on your knees,” she demands as she guides you by your jaw, your bare knees hit the cold floor, sure to be bruised. You see the mascara trailing from your eyes down your flushed cheeks.
“Don’t fucking cry you asked for this,” she says gripping your jaw tighter causing your eyes to close tight. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you!” She barks. You hesitantly unclamp the grip on your eyes, watching as she removes her grip at your submission, trailing them to her belt. With your fuzzy eyes you can barely make out a slight bulge in her pants over her mound.
She brings her thick fingers around the leather, releasing its grip. Her eyes never leave yours as she whips the belt out of her slacks and folds it in her hands oh fuck. “Here’s what’s going to happen princess, you are going to suck my fucking cock…” she beings unzipping her slacks to unsheath
a girthy black dildo, thick and long with veins trailing up it “…and if I hear one fucking complaint those pretty little tits are going to be covered in an orange jumpsuit, understood?”
Your mouth gapes at her size, there’s no way you’d be able to take her. She grips your jaw again bringing it so you’re an inch away from her length, “don’t make me fucking repeat myself slut.”
Yes is all you can manage out, emotions swirling in your mind and tummy, scared but yet turned on? You can feel the a line of slick escaping your dripping hole, needy. “Yes what?” She bites, she doesn’t tell you what she wants to hear but you can infer. “Y-yes ma’am,” you pout out, eyes wide and drool watering your mouth in anticipation.
She gives that devious grin, appeased with you, “good girl, now open that slutty little mouth.” You obey, opening your glossy lips in a small hole which she rips open with the girth of her cock, sending you into a choke.
“Yeah choke on it whore, you asked for this,” she beams with a maniacal grin. Tears start pricking at your ducts again as you sloppily take her, barely breathing at the depth she’s at. You try bobbing your head back and forth but she must not be amused with your efforts as she grips your scalp at its roots and bucks her hips to fuck you herself.
Your eyes roll back at the feeling of her pushing even further down into your throat, spit dripping down your chin. “Awh you like that princess? Like when I use that dirty little mouth?” A breathy grunt escapes her puffy lips. There’s no way you can verbally respond so you settle with a pathetic nod as she uses you.
She suddenly rips out of your mouth which sends you choking on all fours in attempt to regain your composure. She gives you a second to regroup, the first sight of mercy she’s let you have.
“Get up,” anddd she’s back. You stumble back to your feet, barely making it upright already fucked out. She takes you by the arms and turns you so they’re behind your back, and guides you to the rusty metal table, pressing you down so that your cheek rests on the cold material and your ass is bent over.
You feel the sopping wet cock nudge against your embarrassingly wet clothed cunt, you can’t help but let out a little whimper that you hear get a rise out of her from a giggle, “so fucking pathetic,” you bite your lip to hold back but it comes out anyways, “mhmmm,” god she’s right you are fucking pathetic.
She doesn’t say a word but you can hear her fumble behind you when you feel another cold metal at your wrist click click, bounding your wrist behind you. “Making sure you don’t try to touch that clit til I say so,” which you respond with an aggravated sigh.
“Is that a fucking complaint I just heard?” She grips you by hair, your face still shoved into the cold metal, but lifted so she glares into your eyes inches away. Now that she’s bent over you her cock presses into your throbbing slit that makes you whimper, “n- no ma’am.”
“That’s what I thought,” she losens her grip on your hair as you feel them run up your shirt and onto your already hard nipples from the cold metal. She pinches both after kneading them roughly in her large hands, “fuckkkk” you mutter out with the sensation of her bulge still rubbing into you.
She begins trailing her hands down your body and lifts up your skirt so that your bare ass is on display for her. “No use wearing this barely covers that little cunt of yours. You just want everyone to see it huh?” She runs her palms over your ass before laying a harsh smack into it, you jolt into the table at the suddenness of it.
She moves her fingers down to your covered slit, rubbing up and down slowly, slick pooling in your panties and down your thighs. “Of course you’re fucking soaked…” she grips down at your covered clit that bucks your hips back into her “…just dying to get used like a toy.”
“Please ma’am, please fuck me, use me please,” you beg pathetically as tears drop onto the rusty metal. She pulls down your lace so that it sits at your ankles. You feel the silicone tip run down your slit collecting all your pent up slick. Without warning she slips right into you, bottoming out immediately, “oh fuck,” you scream out.
She grips her hands at your hips and begins relentlessly driving into you without remorse, the gentle sentiment wouldn’t be in the cards for you. The noises escaping your lips were downright sinful, no one had ever fucked you like this, with such aggression. Even though you looked like a flower you didn’t want to be treated like it, and she knew it.
“Taking that cock so well princess,” she grunts out in a pant, probably the nicest thing she’s said all night. “Tight little hole just for me,” and she takes a harsh open handed blow at your other cheek. “Fuck ma’am please,” you cry out.
She snakes her arm under you down to your stomach, “you feel that? My cock all the way up in your tummy?” Pressing down on your abdomen and you can feel her, she’s so fucking deep your mind starts going numb, “ye-“ the words won’t form.
At your reply she bottoms out inside you, somehow getting even deeper and moves her hand to harshly pink your hard nipple. “Yes ma’am! I’m sorry- please don’t stop!”
“Good girl,” she coos as she pulls out and plunges deep inside of you again, going back to her pace. You can feel yourself nearing your peek, your tummy twists trying to hold it back. “M-ma’am can I cum please,” you beg. “Are you going to cum?” “I’m so close!! Please it hurts,” she leaves you with one last rut and pulls out of you, you being clenching around nothing and moan out at the absence.
You can barely make it out but you watch as she places herself down against the metal chair. She grips your arm and pulls you in, “wrap that filthy hole around my cock,” she spits. You obey, slowly inching yourself down onto her girth, hands still bound at your back gripping into her covered chest. She pulls you back onto her so that your face is nuzzled against the size of hers, blonde strips of hair now dangling messily in front of her face. She takes your feet and wraps them around her calf’s so that you’re wide open for her.
“Cum without asking and I’ll make sure you’re someone’s bitch in prison.” She takes your breast in one hand and the other on your clit, rubbing slow agonizing circles. “So swollen, just dying to cum on my cock huh princess?” She’s breathing straight into your ear, you can hear every little grunt that comes out of her, your body shivers at the new sensation.
“You feel so good ma’am.” You moan out trying to hold back screams from feeling her rough fingers on your sensitive clit. She picks her pace up so that your legs are shaking around her thick thighs. “Fuck fuck fuck,” is all that seems to come out of your throat.
“You wanna cum baby? Beg for it.” You can barely make out a sentence but you can’t wait any longer and she knows it. “P-please ma’am let me cum on your cock, I’ve been s-such a good girl!” She quickens her pace, now bucking her hips aimlessly into your abused hole.
“Whose fucking pussy is this?” She groans with a smirk onto your ear. “Yours! All yours ma’am!” You desperately blurt out, at the tipping point of your peak. “Show me it’s all mine, cum on my cock pretty girl,” if you weren’t already one foot in the grave, those words alone could have sent you six feet under.
Your vision turns white, sobbing out as she ruts her cock deep into your tummy and her fingers circle your swollen clit. You bounce onto you unconsciously, needing more as you ride out your climax. She grunts into your ear at your sweet little sobs while you desperately fuck yourself onto her.
You finally still yourself as you finish off your orgasm, you’re both panting in attempt to regain composure.
“I promise I’m a good girl officer,” You say in a whisper, still unsure if she’d still take you away in her cop car after abusing your body. She giggles at your pathetic attempt to claim innocence.
“I think I’ll keep this pretty pussy to myself for now.”
Taglist: @wishbones999 @bookpagecandlescent @littlegingerperson2 @lanafresitas @lookforthelight1 @fict1onallyobsessed @shewantstoknow
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lovergojo · 4 months
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WHAT AM I, YOUR CHAUFFEUR?
summary: In which you sit in the backseat of your lover’s car, instead of right next to them.
characters: SATORU, SUGURU, MAKI, MEGUMI
cw: kissing, reader referred to as passenger princess in Suguru’s other than that no pronouns are mentioned, POC friendly, no skins tones mentioned!
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SATORU
Picture this: you park in the parking lot of your local mall. You’re here to pick up your wonderful lover after shopping. As you sit and wait, suddenly familiar hands wrap around you and cover your mouth and you’re stabbed in the chest.
This is basically what Gojo Satoru feels like when you get in the backseat of his car instead of your spot, which is right next to him in the front passenger seat.
“You might as well as kill me.”
You let out an exasperated sigh, “Satoru.”
“Be honest, do you even love me?” He turns around in his seat, his cerulean eyes peeking over the rims of his glasses.
“Satoru-“
“No, no, it’s fine, I’m fine, I mean we’ve only been dating for 3 years and it’s fine if you want to throw it all away because you’re practically saying you don’t love me right now!” He’s voice grows louder until he’s practically shrieking, staring at you with wide eyes.
“Okay! I’m sorry!” You quickly get out of the car trying to hide your smile. You open the car door and get in and look over at Satoru to find him beaming at you.
“Oh hi baby!” He says way too happily and leans over to kiss you on the lips. Again. And again. And again.
“…Hello ‘Toru, how was your day today?”
“It was great, until my lover decided to stab me in the back.”
Yeah, don’t expect him to forget about this. He will bring it up to you no matter what
“Toru, what do you want for dinner?”
“To not be stabbed in the heart by my lover.”
No matter what.
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SUGURU
After fitting all of your groceries into the trunk Suguru’s trunk, he helps you close it and you both get into the car. Except you sit in the back seat.
Suguru didn’t even realize you were sitting back there, he was still just waiting for you to get in the front seat, and when you didn’t he turned towards you curiously.
“You’re gonna sit back there?”
“Yeah.”
“Not in the front seat?”
“Yeah.”
“Really?”
“…Yeah?”
He hums and shrugs his shoulders and says, “Okay then, I guess you don’t want to be my passenger princess and use the aux cord huh?”
And that has you quickly sitting up and getting out of the backseats to sit next to Suguru in the front seat, who had a smile on his face the whole time.
“Changed your mind huh?”
“Shush.” And you lean over to kiss him on the cheek as an apology.
He grins at you before pulling out of the parking lot, one hand on the wheel, and the other intertwined with yours as they rest on the center console.
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MAKI
Maki holds your hand as you guys cross the road from the restaurant you too stoped at for a date.
As you two approach the car, she goes to the passenger side to open the door for you, only for you to ignore the open door and open car door to the back seats.
You don’t have to look up to see the narrow look she gives you, before going over to you and standing outside the open car door.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Your eyes wide at her stern tone.
“Getting in the car?”
All it takes is for Maki to keep staring at you before you slowly get out of the back seat and and close the door before facing her and trying to cuddle up to her.
“So now you wanna be cute?” She says with a raised eyebrow.
“Aren’t I always cute?” You look up at her with a smile and she clicks her tongue before rolling her eyes and wrapping a hand around your waist before planting a sweet kiss on your lips
“You are. Bratty, but you are.”
You laugh and she smiles at you before guiding you back to your seat, which is right next to her.
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MEGUMI
Megumi waits in the car as you say goodbye to Yuji and Nobara after watching Human Earthworm 4, which Megumi has no idea why it even exists in the first place, so he opted out to save himself from the horrible sight of that god awful worm thing.
Megumi is so focused on how pretty you look with the sun hitting you perfectly, that he doesn’t even realize that you’re sitting in the backseat until he sees you passing by the door to the front passenger seat.
You buckle yourself in and smile at Megumi nonchalantly.
“Hi ‘Gumi, how was your day?”
He freezes, staring right at you with a frown on his face.
“Good…what are you doing back there?”
“Hm? I thought I’d sit here this time.”
“Why though?” He questions, he looks to the empty front seat next to him. There’s no trash in the seat, and nothing on the floor too. Was the seat to far back?
“No reason.” You have a hard time hiding your smile because of the constipated look on Megumi’s face. He looks so focused on trying to find out why you won’t sit next to him, you accidentally let out a laugh and he’s whipping his head towards you and sees you smiling, before he lets out a groan.
This time, you let your laugh flow out freely from your lips and your moving to get into the front passenger seat, leaning over the center console you kiss Megumi all over his face.
“Sorry ‘Gumi, don’t be mad okay?” You say, still smiling into his cheek.
“Hmph.”
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note: FIRST TIME WRITING FOR MAKI AHHH SO EXCITED AND DO YOU GUYS LIKE THE NEW BLOG THEME?? IT’S CUTE RIGHT???
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bigfatbimbo · 3 months
Note
new(ish) anon here. I’ve been lurking for a while but here’s my first prompt/request. sorry if you’ve already written something like this
vox would try so hard to come across as a dom. he’s the head of a voxtek and he has so much power over everyone, including people. so when he gets with you, he’d try so hard to show how dominant he is, only to come apart with each touch he receives. he’d keep losing control until he’s a pathetic, whimpering mess under you.
thank you -📺
a/n — I absolutely eat this idea up. Sometimes I just look at Vox and get this incredible desire to be cruel and terrible.
Also I took a lot of inspiration from that one anon who had a similar idea! Just basically turned it into a whole fic.
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At first you were okay with it, him having the power in the dynamic. It was an interesting change from usual so you decided to give it a try.
He was alright at first, even good at what he was doing. 
“That’s right, take it, slut,” He muttered harshly as he slid his dick into you.
However, it only took a couple thrusts before he started getting sloppy. You noticed his body start to shake above you, how his harsh words turned into quiet whimpers.
“Fuck, just like—nzz—just like that,“ he would try again, almost giving himself away when his voice cracked at the end.
“Everything ok, vox? You look a little—“ you gesture with your head as he sloppily thrusts into you, “—out of sorts.”
“No I— shut up,” he grunts and buffers slightly.
“Getting tired, already?” You tease as his hips begin moving more frantically. He squeezes his eyes shut as a high frequency starts coming from his head.
Your hands crept up his body and brush over his nipples. Then, finally, his body tenses and he lets out a disgusting, needy whine.
You don’t wait any longer. With on swift movement, you grab his hips and flip positions, leaving him underneath you.
“Hey! S—szz—stop that, you fucking slut i’m—“ he command comes off as more of a tantrum than a display of power.
You ride him so slowly it’s almost unbarable, he weakly attempts to thrust up into you. You shove back down forcefully and wrap your hand loosely around his neck, just strong enough to hold him in place.
“I’m obviously not the slut here, Vox,” You hiss down at him. 
He still squirms against you, “G—go faster, fuck,” he complained, his whines making him sound like an indignant child.
“Oh, I don’t think I will,” You hum against him, nails digging into his neck, “It’s embarrassingly clear you can’t handle calling the shots here, baby.”
“Nngh— bzz— yes I can I just—“ he whimpers uselessly, unable to think when you’re riding his dick so agonizingly slow. 
“Stop throwing a hissy fit and maybe i’ll speed up,” you say keeping your voice even. “Honestly, Vox, how did you ever expect to dominate me when you pout like a child when you don’t get your way?”
He whines and squirms below you, trying not to glitch out. 
“It’s honestly pathetic,” you laugh, speeding up a little bit when he refrains from arguing, “But, it is funny, how fast you fall apart.” 
He simply whimpers in response, screen lagging out almost as rapidly as his voice. He practically sinks into the mattress when you ride his dick faster. 
You start to hump him at a rapid, rough, pace, making his back arch him and his screen complete blank out for a couple seconds.
“You make it so much harder than it needs to be, Vox,” you grunt against him, “How hard is it to be good for me? Do you need to throw a fit every time?”
“Fuck— zzs—“ Vox cried out, trying not the thrust upward, trying to avoid anymore degrading words from you.
You were being so mean, and even though he knew it was his doing, he miserably craved validation from you after all of these harsh jeers.
Although it was getting harder to speak without incoherently glitching out, he tried his hardest to mutter out sorry excuses for apologies.
You took them into consideration and rode him faster, caressing his chest with your thumb. “I have to admit though, baby, you are so damn pretty when you’re like this.”
It was stupid, it was barely praise. And yet he grasped desperately at the strings of your approval. 
The frequency in his head got unbearably loud and he threw his hands to the stop of his screen and moaned loudly.
All of a sudden, your hips slowed to a stop, and you gazed down at him in disgust.
“Why’d you st—st—stop?” he whined up at you before realizing his mistake. He had came prematurely and without permission.
You grabbed his throat and he moaned, “Did I say you could do that, pretty boy?”
He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut, feeling his screen blank out for a couple seconds.
“And to think you tried to hold any power over me,” you practically laugh, “You cant even control yourself, you stupid whore.”
He hiccuped and let out a low whimper, “‘m sorry, ‘m so s—szz—sorry, please,” he cried, “‘need praise, I cant—“
His voice glitches out and the power flashes. You start riding him again as you take his wrists and hold them down on either side of him, preventing him from touching you as he squirmed and writhed below you.
“Earn it.” 
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a/n — Maybe later tonight i’ll finally get out that one pegging Lucifer fic i’ve been teasing for the past four days but literally never finished.
The night is young!
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too-much-tma-stuff · 11 days
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Finally Getting Help (pt 12)
Masterpost
“Ya, I have questions,” Jason confirmed, trying not to shift awkwardly in his seat. “I read the slideshow but I don’t seem to fit in either liminals or ghosts, and I have some issues that I think would have been mentioned if they were common?”
“Alright, what are they?” Danny asked tilting his head a little. 
“Well, it’s been better since meeting you, and I know increased aggression was one of the thing mentioned but mine isn’t like Damian’s, or even yours I think. We’ve been calling it Pit Madness. I’ve gotten better at managing it but especially when I got back it was really bad. I… killed a ton of people and I still have a lot of bloodlust that no one is comfortable with.”
“That is unusual, especially directed towards humans. Aside from revenge against whoever killed them dead usually don’t care very much about the living,” Danny said curiously, considering Jason. 
“And I do read as- as dead?” Jason asked, he had been worried about that.
“Well you’re obviously not Dead dead,” Danny said rolling his eyes before he reached across the table. “Here, with touch I can figure out a bit more.” He said and Jason hesitated for a moment before resting his hand in Danny’s.
A cool feeling quickly washed up his arm and over his chest like intangible water. Danny tilted his head to the other side, his brows coming together slowly as he gazed into the middle distance and considered what he was feeling. He let out a hiss and some sort of chitter that couldn’t come from a human throat, then clicked his tongue and the cool feeling dissipated, sinking under Jason’s skin and cooling heat he hadn’t been aware of feeling. 
“Okay, ya that’s weird,” Danny admitted and Jason’s heart dropped. “Best I can equate it to is, like a bone that healed wrong,” Danny said thoughtfully. “You did die before?” He asked, Jason nodded mutely. “Okay, I won’t ask why or how. But best I can tell your soul was shoved back into your body and not given time to get settled back in it’s proper position before whatever was done to bind it in place. So you’re alive but with some.. Spiritual nerve and brain damage. Would you be comfortable telling me how you were resurrected?”
“Well, I resurrected myself apparently. I don’t really remember it but apparently about six months after my death I dug myself out of my grave. Before I could get anywhere the League of Shadows found me and dunked me in the Lazarus pit which is this glowing green stuff that heals the dying and kills the healthy. I don’t remember any of it, it was almost a year before I recovered enough to be myself at all.”
“That actually makes a lot of sense,” Danny said, nodding thoughtfully. “My guess would be at first you came back as a revenant, which is basically when a ghost possesses their own corpse to get revenge, not truly a living being. But then this Lazarus pit resurrected your body and your soul got stuck in your living body again without being prepared or intending for that to happen. 
“That’s what I’m guessing happened but I can’t be sure, and I’m not a healer so I don’t really know what to do about it. I’m sure my ghost doctor Frostbite would be happy to take a look at you though! Looks like we’ll be making an appointment for you too,” He joked making Jason chuckle nervously. 
“Well that’s.. Totally fucked up,” Jason said and Danny nodded.
“Ya, dying is basically always fucked up, coming back Specifically for revenge and then getting stuck here long after that’s a motivating factor is messy. I mean, for a human that would be fine, but for people like us,” He gestured between the two of them. “Obsessions are everything so that’s hard. You’ve been cultivating more healthy obsessions I know but you’ll never be the same,” Danny said, and Jason nodded.
He knew as much, he could never go back. Not that he hadn’t always had these sorts of thoughts and inclinations. Once of the reasons Bruce had taken on him and Dick was their murderous inclinations needed to be curbed, for Dick it had work, for Jason… Well it was a combination of a lot of things, it wasn’t really Bruce’s fault it had failed. Other than the fact that he’d let the Joker live far longer than he should have, but that was bleeding-heart-Brucie for you. It was funny, to not really be mad at Bruce anymore, understanding there was nothing else he could have done, and still not be able to forgive him.
Danny must have noticed how Jason had gotten lost in his own head because he reached across the table and covered one of Jason’s clenched hands with his own, soft and cool. “You’re doing really well Jason. It’s a messed up situation but I don't think anyone could have handled it better then you are,” Danny said softly.
Jason didn’t believe it but it felt good to hear and it did settle him a little bit. “Thanks Danny, that means a lot,” he said, giving Danny’s hand a squeeze before pulling back. 
There was a natural break in conversation as the waitress brought their appetizers, and when she left again Jason didn’t know what to say. Thankfully Danny spoke. “Why don’t I tell you a bit about my doctor? Frostbite can be a lot, as much as it would probably be funny to spring him on you I should probably give you a heads up.”
“Ya, ya that sounds good,” Jason agreed, glad to let Danny do the talking for a bit. And when telling him about Frostbite turned into talking about the Yetis, to talking about the Infinite Realms, to Danny info-dumping about space. Well Jason really doesn’t mind, especially with the way it makes Danny light up. It was good to see him happy.
---------
The food was good but Jason didn’t taste much of it, and aside from going “Oh wow!” When he took his first bite of his food Danny didn’t seem to either. At a certain point Jason realized he was going to have to do some talking or Danny was going to keep talking and wouldn’t eat. So he took over, but he didn’t know much about space so he started talking about literature and poetry and Danny listened raptly and finally ate his food.
It was very nice to have someone listen to him like that, it was sort of funny, it looked like it was as fun for Danny to listen to him talk then it had been the other way. Jason thought about how supporting obsessions was important for ghosts to have their obsessions supported. Reading wasn’t Really his obsession, he didn’t think, but it sure was an interest and it felt really good to get to share with someone new. 
By the end of the dinner Jason has well and truly decided that this was a date. Danny was cute, good, and passionate, and a good listener, Oh and strong as Fuck which was always a turn on for Jason. Speaking of powerful…
“Can I ask you another sort of serious question?” Jason asked after they got their dessert. Danny looked up, mouth full and a little smear of chocolate on his top lip, Jason resisted the urge to reach across the table and wipe it off. Danny nodded. “When Damian gave me his little shovel talk he mentioned that you’re going to be a god some day?” He said, tilting his head. Maybe that was a third date sort of conversation but it seemed like it would be important to understanding Danny.
Danny choked a little and swallowed, sighing heavily. “That’s what I’ve been told,” Danny grumbled. “There’s a prophecy apparently, and with how my powers have been progressing even just in the first 2 years since I died, I can already go toe to toe with some Ancients and win so… Ya, I guess it’s probably inevitable, especially since I haven’t stagnated yet. I don’t want to be one really, I didn’t ask for this, but whatever. I probably can’t stop it.” He slumped back in the booth, looking tired. 
Shit Jason shouldn’t have brought that up. “Hey you’ve got time right? That won’t be for a while. Also, what’s an Ancient?” 
“Very old, very powerful spirits. They’re essentially their own pantheon, Ancient is basically just what ghosts call gods.” He said with a shrug.
“Makes sense, I mean gods usually are ancient. Even more reason you don’t have to worry about that right now. I mean you’re far from ancient,” Jason pointed out, earning himself a little smile from Danny. 
“Ya, you’re right,” He agreed and went back to eating his dessert, the conversation moved on to the music they liked.
When the bill came Jason put his card down without letting Danny see what the bill came to and passed it back to the waitress. They lingered in the booth for a while still chatting, unwilling to part ways yet. If Jason didn’t know his family would want Danny home before they went out on patrol he might have suggested they just go to a park and walk for a while. Talk, maybe each take one of his wireless earbuds and take turns picking songs. But he had a feeling Damian really would try to kill Jason if he didn’t get to see Danny home safe. 
Eventually they left, wandering back to Jason’s motorbike and Danny snuggled up to Jason’s back again as they drove back to the manor. The silence was companionable until Jason pulled up, propping the bike up to let Danny get off. He took off his helmet and handed it back to Jason, not letting go immediately when Jason took it so their hands were touching. 
“This was nice, I had fun,” Danny said, blushing a little and looking down.
“It was, we should do it again soon,” Jason agreed, “I’ll text you okay?” 
“You’d better,” Danny teased before walking back towards the manor. 
Damian opened the door for him, shooting Jason a glare before slamming it making him laugh. He was still a child no matter how much he pretended he wasn’t. Jason kicked off on his bike and zoomed off, heading home to get ready for patrol.
Next
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ponderingmoonlight · 2 months
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Megumi losing his will to carry on until (y/n) shows up
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Pairing: Megumi x reader
Word Count: 1,5k
Synopsis: Megumi can't take it anymore. All the death, the grief, the misery he caused. He'll never forgive himself for losing you...But are you really dead?
Warnings: THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS! but more in a really decent way, like I actually think if you have no idea of the manga you don't get that these are spoilers lol, HEAVY angst but also comfort, poor Megumi is at his lowest so TW if that offends you
I know I promised you a Sukuna fic it technically is and I will serve, but this basically wrote itself so I hope you like this as well hehe
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Take a deep breath in and out, calm your tingling nerves, allow your feet to walk at normal pace. You waited so long for this moment, recovered from your endless injuries Sukuna conflicted on your body and soul. It took Shoko forever to stitch you up again, to make you look like a human being again. But there you go, walking on your very own legs, to finally see the true love of your life again.
When was the last time you spoke to him? Oh, you remember it exactly.
“I’m scared. Scared of what will happen, scared about the things we’ll lost…”
“Hey, you’ll never lose me, okay? I will always stay by your side.”
Little did both of you know he’ll break that promise a few weeks later and that he won’t return to your side for over a year. How hard you fought, how desperately you tried to stand a chance against Sukuna – only to get thrown out of life yourself.
“Are you sure you can handle this, that you are fit enough?”, Yuji questioned with his hand resting on your shoulder.
“You know you don’t have to-“
“This might be the only chance to get him back, right?”
Yuji smiled at you with that pained expression on his face you saw countless times these last months.
“Yuta and I think it might work. After all, everyone knows how much you mean to him.”
You clench your hands into fists. There is no doubt in the fact that Megumi Fushiguro is still in there, that he is still the boy you know and adore with all your heart. Even if it means you’ll get attacked again, even if it might end your life, you’ll have to try.
-Megumi-
Megumi’s body doesn’t move an inch, lifeless eyes staring into nothing but darkness. What time is it? He couldn’t care less. No, time doesn’t make any sense right now. Not when he lost everyone he loved. His family, his friends, his self-control. You.
His heart stings immediately. Oh, your gorgeous face hunts him down like nothing else. The way you talked, the way you laughed. The way you looked at him with widened eyes when your lifeless body fell to the ground, the way your blood pooled around his brown shoes.
Why? Why didn’t you listen to him when he told you earlier to stay away from Sukuna? Why did you decide to show up anyway, without Yuji or Yuta by your side? There was absolutely nothing he could do to save you.
Just like his sister.
Just like Gojo-sensei.
Just like everyone else.
It seems unreal to him. Unreal that he’s the one still alive, that all these people lost their lives through his very own hands. Oh, he’ll never forget the way you cared for his sister, your dumb inside jokes with Gojo. He’ll never forget the way you held his hand that one night, how your soft smile outshone the heavy moonlight.
“Don’t worry Megumi, everything will turn out alright eventually!”
Oh, how wrong you were. How awful these words make his guts turn, how desperately he wants to close his eyes forever.
No, you didn’t deserve your fate. Everyone didn’t deserve their fates. But he? He deserves nothing but death.
Nothing but emptiness.
Nothing but darkness.
“Megumi.”
Is he hallucinating again? Is your voice hunting him down like it always does? It sounds so clear, near to reach. As if he could open his eyes, stretch out his hands and-
“Megumi.”
Again.
His skin suddenly starts to feel warm, as if someone touches his arm. Impossible, no one should be here, it’s just him in this prison that never ends-
“Hey, I’m here. It’s me, (y/n).”
“(y/n)?”
That name. That gorgeous name he adores to the moon and back, that last name that saved him from giving up until you died in front of his eyes.
“Hey, it’s been a while.”
“You’re dead.”
That voice sounds so unknown, so far away that you flinch for a second. Is this really Megumi and not just a cheap copy of him? You swallow hard, desperately try to contain your emotions. Oh, how much you longed for this moment, to finally hold the love of your life again. But on the other hand, you can’t take the sight in front of you. Him laying curled up on the cold floor, face showing absolutely no emotion.
You shake your head. No, you have to be strong right now. If not for yourself, then for him.
“Open your eyes, silly. I’m right here”, you reply.
Gently, you cup his cheek with your hand the way he always secretly adored. This just has to work, you need to get him back.
He hesitates for a moment, breath stuck in his throat. Is this really you or just his own sorrow reminding him of the things he’s done? But what…
He opens his eyes.
His gaze finds yours.
Time stands still.
“I missed you, cutie patootie.”
Reality hits him with full force. This might be a cruel trick, a hallucination. But that nickname was always a little secret between both of you, how you called him in private. No one except you knows about it. No one except you looks at him with so much love gleaming in their eyes. No one except…
“(y/n)”, he breathes out.
“I know you think I’m dead but…I made it, Megumi. I never gave up hope to see you again.”
You can’t hold back the waterfall of tears that now streams down your cheeks, eyes holding onto his gorgeous face for dear life, afraid to lose him all over again.
“(y/n).”
And for the first time since you know him, his eyes get watery to the point where they overflow with tears, the salty stream getting caught in your hands.
“(y/n)”, he whimpers again.
“Don’t feel sorry for what happened. It wasn’t you but him. I don’t blame you”, you blurt out immediately.
“(y/n)!”
Faster than you’re able to comprehend what’s happening, he wraps his longing arms around you, presses you so close that your lungs refuse their service for a second.
“I thought you’re dead. I thought…I killed you.”
The sheer agony in his voice forms a painful lump in your throat. Oh poor Megumi…He doesn’t deserve to feel this way, doesn’t deserve to hold all these horrible memories. How much you’d wish you could simply take his pain away, could make him forget what happened.
But all you’re able to do is holding him tightly.
“You would never harm a single hair on my body-“
“But I did!”, he screams.
“I hurt you! I almost killed you! Just like Gojo-sensei, just like Tsumiki!”
His voice breaks, a dry whimper escapes his lips.
“I…I can’t do this anymore. I can’t hurt another soul. I don’t wanna li-“
“Stop right there.”
Desperately, you force him to look into your reddened eyes.
“This wasn’t you, Megumi. Did you hear me? No one ever thought it was you. We loved you, we missed you, we want you back. When Shoko stitched me up, all I was able to think about was you. Fuck that shitty jujutsu world we’re living in, fuck all the curses and monsters and humans. Think about us, Megumi. Think about what you told me back then, that you’ll always stay by my side. Because that’s were I need you, this is why I love you more than anything else. In my eyes, you’ll never be anything apart from Megumi Fushiguro!”
Without thinking twice, you press your despairing lips against his, taste the salty tears of him and you that mixed on each other’s faces. His arms wrap themselves around your back and waist, hold you into place while you get lost against the lips you know so well but yet not at all. Megumi just needs to come back to you, needs to find his willpower again.
“I need you”, you mutter against his mouth.
“I love you.”
The agony radiating from his voice becomes almost unbearable, lets you hold onto his neck even tighter. No, Megumi didn’t deserve what happened to him. He didn’t deserve to see his loved ones die right before his eyes. He didn’t deserve all the things he’s been through. But this right here, this is just right.
This is a reason to hold on, right?
“Promise me you won’t give up”, you urge.
“Promise me you’ll give yourself the chance to heal, that you’ll stand with me and Yuji and the others. Just promise that you’ll come back.”
“I swore to myself not to be a burden to this world anymore, that I’m done with my pathetic life, that I deserve to die. But you’re alive, you’re lying in my arms…And now I’m too selfish to do that.”
Again, he caresses your lips with his in the gentlest way while his arms hold you in place.
“If I’m not able to look at myself in the mirror, I’m able to look at you.”
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Taking what’s not yours (Miguel O’Hara x fem! Reader [ex-Childhood best friend turned Fwb AU]) part 2
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Hiiiiiii, this took longer then it should and it was gonna be waaay longer but I’ve decided to just make it 3 parts cuz I’m waaaaaay too impatient Lmaoo. Thank you once again to @chickenshit03 for helping me look over this 🫶🏼. Technically it is a miguel x reader, Harry x reader but, shhh it’s okay lol. Not proofread, enjoy!
Cursing, hurt/comfort/hurt (???), underage usage of weed (I DO NOT CONDONE THIS!!!), usage of alcohol, no smut but nsfw stuff is implied, Miguel going thru it lol
Word count: 3.1k
Part 1
Masterlist
“Have you congratulated her yet?”
Gabriel’s voice pulled his older brother’s attention away from the soccer game that was happening on his tv, looking over to find his brother engrossed in his phone rather than the game. He raised a brow up, waiting for him to continue, letting out an exasperated sigh when he didn’t.
“Who?” Miguel asked, bringing his beer bottle up to take a swig, turning back towards the tv so he didn’t get to catch his younger brother’s almost confused reaction.
“What do you mean who? (Y/N), Cabrón.” Gabriel’s tone was one of almost scolding, as if he was talking about someone who was family. As far as he was concerned, you were still considered as such. But when Miguel quirked up a confused brow it was becoming a bit clearer that you and his older brother weren’t as close as you once were. (Dumbass)
“(Y/N)? I don’t talk to her anymore, why would I congratulate her?” He sounded uninterested, bothered even, as if bringing you up was an inconvenience to himself. Still Gabriel pressed on.
“You really don’t know?”
“Does it look like I know?” Miguel shot back sarcastically, bringing his bottle back up to take another swig.
“She’s getting married.”
Miguel’s fist flew to his chest, hitting at it frantically as he brought down his half empty bottle as he attempted to clear his windpipe, eyes widen in shock, both from the news and the sudden feeling of the liquid going down the wrong pipe.
“She’s-shes what?” He was finally about to choke out between fading coughs, his eyes watering slightly as he recovers from the fit. Now it was his younger brother who raised a confused brow before it came back down and his face scrunched together in realization.
“No manches güey… You really didn’t know? I thought you two were best friends.” (Slang that basically means “You’re fucking with me dude.”)
“Key word: were.” Miguel grumbled through
grinding teeth, his tensing shoulders and blunt tone was enough of an indicator for Gabriel to drop the subject. Using the now empty bottle in Miguel’s hand as an excuse to step out of the room to grab another one from his kitchen.
Only when Miguel was alone, he sighs and takes his phone out from his jeans pocket and opens instagram, waiting impatiently as the app loads.
“I don’t know, I think I liked the other venue better. What do you think honey?”
Despite your feet standing in the second venue of the day, you couldn’t seem to get yourself to focus on the space in front of you. Fingers idly fidget with Harry’s from their place intertwined with his.
How were you going to tell this to Harry? Why did after so long, Miguel had the nerve to try weasel his way back into your life?
No matter how hard you try to blink the words away, it felt like they were burned into your eyelids. Like you had never left the fitting room of the dress store.
Miguel.Ohara.99 and 4 others liked your post.
Miguel.Ohara.99 started following you.
1 message request from Miguel.Ohara.99
1 message request from Miguel.Ohara.99
1 message request from-
“(Y/N)?”
“Hmm?” Harry’s voice pulled you back out from your own thoughts. Suddenly becoming too aware of your own anxious state, as he gave your hand a quick reassuring squeeze. Turning to the venue owner as he asked for a minute alone with his fiancé.
“What’s wrong babe.” He asked as soon as you were both alone, his hand traveling upwards to rest on your forearm, tilting his head slightly as he cooed at you. He always knew how to read you so well. Despite the question coming out more as a statement, it held no malice behind it. You let out a sigh.
“I… I’m not sure how to explain it.” You replied honestly, it’s not like you did anything wrong. You simply received a message from an estranged friend/fling, you haven’t even read the message yet. Still the thought of spilling out the words ‘You remember how I had told you I had a thing with an old childhood before we met? He saw that I’m engaged and now he’s trying to message me.’ didn’t seem to settle in your stomach quite right.
“You know you can tell me anything baby. Is it the wedding? I know the whole thing is stressful, maybe I shouldn’t have booked this tour right after your dress appointment-“ Oh Harry, your sweet sweet Harry. You quickly shook your head, your hand going up to rest on his chest to stop his rambling. He always did it when he was starting worrying about you, you couldn’t help but smile at his habit. You found it endearing.
“No, Harry. It’s not anything wedding related, not exactly-erm, nevermind, don’t worry about it right now.” You reassured him, his rambling dead down in his throat, replaced with the low vibration of a hum, as he brought your hand up to his cheek and pressed a light kiss against your palm. Your lips pulled upwards just a tad bit more at the gesture. “ I’ll tell you when we get back home.”
“Hmm, Promise?” He muttered against your palm, before placing another peck against it.
“I promise.” Your thumb stroked his cheek lightly.
“Good.” He sighed, dropping your hand back down from his face, but not letting go of it just yet. “Now, about the venue.” He changed subjects, raising a brow as he silently asked for your opinion. To which you scrunch your nose before replying.
“Oh I liked the last one way better.”
“Good, I did too.”
The alcohol still had a hold on Miguel as he continued through the rest of his nightly routine, trying not to trip over his own feet as he was trying to grab a shirt to sleep in. Only to trip over something else in the corner of his closet.
Cursing loudly as he caught his weight before he could fall face first into the closet wall. His search for a shirt was quickly forgotten as he stumbled back a bit to catch his barings. Anger flaring through his veins as he went to go pick up the box he tripped on, and toss across the room in a fleeting moment of letting his frustrations get the better of him. When he realized he was only making a bigger mess for hungover him to clean up, he groaned and rubbed his hands through his hair.
He was going to just leave it for the morning, let it be a tomorrow problem as he doom scrolled through old photos that should have been long deleted from his phone when he dropped you for Dana. A choice that was proven to be a mistake at the end of the day when she dumped him a few months later. But when he went to step over the mess to lay on his bed, when something caught itself in his peripheral vision. A black lighter, one that was bedazzled with a little star.
That’s weird, I don’t use lighters for anything. Miguel thought as he bent down to his knees to pick it up and examine it, it wasn’t until he turned it upside down to see a certain pair of initials carved into the bottom of it when it hit him.
“Hey Mig, guess what I bought off one of my friends from my chem class.” You grinned, pulling him into your room. You were both alone, since your mom was gone for a business trip for the weekend.
Miguel raised a brow looking around your room for anything out of the ordinary, finally shrugging when he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. That’s when your smile widened, letting out a small squeal before pulling three things from your pocket.
Two joints and a black lighter.
“We did say if we tried it, it’d be together.” Your voice came out in a sing-songy tone, your silent way of asking him if he wanted to partake in the forbidden activity. He wasn’t big on the idea of smoking weed, but he did say if you ever wanted to try, he’d be there in case you freaked out.
Fuck it, your only a rebellious teenager once right?
You let another squeal when he grabbed one of the joints, before grabbing the lighter.
“I didn’t know I had this…” He muttered, words still slurring slightly as he closed his hand with the lighter still in it. As far as he was concerned, he had given it back before you two had left for college eleven years ago. The-as you liked to call it-“star girl” phase you had during junior year had made it so you put stars on whatever you could, including your lighter. It was your favorite shape at the time, he wonders if it still is.
He can’t remember at the time, because the hazy cloud that covers his brain and the way eleven years came make you forget small things but he had never given the shoebox to you before you had left, like he had meant to. So when he went to turn the box over and more papers and knickknacks fell out, he forgets all about going to bed.
Some of it was a bit more basic than others, a postcard and a small trinket from a vacation you had gone on, a silver spider necklace you had gifted him, some random book you had raved over and let him borrow to read, but he never finished it, movie theater tickets.
Then there were some that were a bit… harder to look at, stuff that he had suppressed deep into his memories.
Handwritten notes you had sent him when you went to summer camp every summer. One for every week for a month, from fourth grade till sophomore year. Rambling about how a guy wouldn’t stop bothering you and how you wish he was there to scare the guy off. Or the time you were doing archery during one afternoon during outside activities and had shot an apple to a tree from midair. Had even dedicated a whole two paragraphs to it.
Photo Booth pics of you both at the county fair, making silly faces at the camera with him arm over your shoulders. He had always hated taking pictures taken of himself, not because he didn’t like the way he looked, just because he didn’t think he needed to. He wasn’t one to look back and reminisce, he’d rather look forward and focus on his future. But you were a sucker for sentimental things, so he did it for you.
A bit ironic now, that the roles were reversed at the moment.
“Please Miguel, it takes like two seconds.” You begged, desperately trying to pull the larger teen towards the unoccupied Photo Booth, faint sounds of teens screaming on rides and music playing from the food stands in the background.
Miguel let his head roll back as he left out a grown, letting you pull him despite him easily being able to walk away.
“You have a million photos of us.”
“You’re so negative all the time. One day you're gonna look back and be thankful I forced you to take all these pictures.” You pouted as you pushed him into the booth, sitting down next to him as you put in a dollar in the machine. “I’ll buy you a funnel cake if you don’t look like you’re being held hostage.” You joked.
“Fine.”
A wristband to some random music festival you had convinced him to go with you to, not wanting to go alone. He at the time wouldn’t have admitted it, but he had a lot more fun than he led on. He never understood how you could deal with his pessimism all the time, waving it off as if it was nothing, you could see threw it he guessed.
“That was…incredible.” You sighed, plopping yourself down on your hotel bed on your side of the room once you two had arrived in the room, not even changing out of your festival outfit yet. Miguel followed you close behind, closing and locking the hotel room door as he shrugged.
“I guess it wasn’t horrible.” He muttered, taking off his dusty shoes. Not missing the way your lips tugged up in a tired smile.
“You had fun.” You stated, already knowing he would deny it. He scoffed.
“Well, I’m not sure about that.” There it was. You let out a small laugh as you sat up on the bed finally.
“Knew it.” You beamed.
Miguel felt pathetic at this point. Never had he been one to reminisce, never had he been one to show emotions. Now here he was, clinging to the last bits of you he still had.
The last thing he found was the last thing he could bare himself to look at, the memories that came with the item came flooding in just like the tears that he had suppressed for so long. Well, as long as it was from when his brother dropped the bomb on him.
A red rose boutonnière.
Senior prom, it was just around the corner. The dress shopping, riding a limo rental with a group of friends, slow dancing with a guy. You had been dreaming about it since you were a kid and saw it over and over again in movies and shows. You should have been excited about it, but you weren’t, in fact you were dreading it. Why? Because no one had asked you to be their date.
It was a bit of a ridiculous thing to be upset about, you knew that, but you couldn’t help it. Not when all of your other female friends got promposalled from their boyfriends or their crushes, you couldn’t help but feel a bit bitter about it.
The fact that you were there to witness Mj’s (your friend from English) get promposalled by her boyfriend Peter with a big teddy bear during lunchtime only rubbed salt in the wound. You were just glad that the school day was over now so you could go home and take a nap.
You did what you usually did after the last bell, walk to Miguel’s car. You could usually carpool since you lived next door to each other. Expecting him to already be waiting for you, what you didn’t expect though, was to be met with him holding a poster up. The words “be my date to prom?” written on it, with the letters of prom made up from elements. It looked simple, last minute, like he had drawn it during the last ten minutes of his final class. But it had brought you to tears no less.
“You didn’t have to.” The words came out in a mix between a sob and a laugh.
“I know, I wanted to. I couldn’t stand you being upset, I know how much this whole prom thing means to you.” His reply only made you let out another sob, quickly closing the gap between you both as you pulled him into a tight hug.
The time between then and prom was short-lived, almost like a blur as you both arrived at the school’s gymnasium. The rest of your friends had actual dates, so you weren’t surprised when they separated in their respective duos. You and Miguel mostly just messed around, the majority of the night. So when he pulled you towards the dance floor once the slow songs started to play, you couldn’t help but raise a brow.
“You hate dancing.” You stated, heels clicking coming to a stop once you both were in an empty spot. His hands sliding on to your waist as he took a step closer towards you. He let out an exhale through his nose as he smirked.
“I do.” He agrees, his hands sliding to your hands, and placing them on his shoulders before he placed his back in their original spot. “But, slow dancing is a part of the ‘prom experience’ or whatever, so I’ll suck it up for a few songs.”
You guess he had a point, so you just went with it. Staying quiet as you both swayed to the music, you haven’t even noticed that your head was resting on his shoulder until he spoke up again.
“So… everything like how you expect it to be?” He whispered jokingly, glancing down to meet your eyes, somehow despite the dim lighting, they still found a way to glimmer.
“It is.” You hummed with a soft smile,
“Good.”
“Harry, baby c’mon stop… Harry!”
“I’m sorry (Y/N), you know I can’t help it… something about wedding planning just does something to me-“
His words were interrupted with another spurt of giggles falling from your lips as you tried to pull away from the playful kisses trailing down your stomach. His hands keeping you in place by your hips. He knew you were ticklish, yet he continued to graze his fingernails down your sides just to watch your reaction.
“I’m so lucky, in a few months I’m going to get to call you my wife. My beautiful lovely wife.” He muttered against your skin. His words made your cheeks flush and your stomach flip, you don’t know another man who could make you feel the way he does.
His lips finally stop as the beginning of your sleeping shorts, his thumbs dipping into them, the fabric scrunching down when he goes to play with the straps of your panties. Half-lidded eyes go to meet yours, silently asking for permission.
“Didn’t you say you wanted to wait until the honeymoon?” You teased as you propped yourself up on your elbows. Trying to sit up on your shared bed as best as you could, but you weren’t able to before Harry went to crawl on top of you. Capturing your lips quickly before dipping his head to nibble at the crook of your neck.
“That’s coming from the girl who couldn’t stop grabbing at me during dinner.” He muttered back, leaving goosebumps to erupt on your skin when you felt him smirk against you, then going to nibble your sensitive spot. Making you let out a whimper before you could stop yourself.
“Because that waitress was trying to flirt with you!” You whined, hands traveling up to hold on to his shoulders as he kitten licked the bites he left behind.
“You act like I didn’t just say that because my father was there. He doesn’t need to know how often I make you scream my name-“
“Oh my gosh Harry, please don’t bring up Norman while we’re about to start fucking.” You laugh as you push him off of you gently, not being able to take the moment seriously anymore. In response he only raised a brow as he smirked again.
“So we were gonna fuck?”
“Jesus.” You laugh again, as you pushed him against the bed, lips crashing against one another as you straddle him.
Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st
@mcmiracles @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho @yournextbimbogf @tinybirdhideout @reader-1290 @laysmt @migueloharasoulmate @fruityfucker @pigeonmama @scaryplanetdestroyer @migueloharastruelove @krentkova19 @genny1019 @maiyart @stressed-cherry
@haveclayeveryday
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cherienymphe · 1 year
Text
Basic Training V (Peter Parker x Reader)
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Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @whimsicalrogers​
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➥ series masterlist
summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.
~
Your own screams were what woke you up…or maybe it was Peter trying to get you to stop screaming. The light from the lamp flooded the room, and you frantically looked around, trying to remember where you were. The last thing you remembered seeing before you woke up was blood. It was everywhere and all over you, but it was gone, now, and you were in the room with Peter.
Your face was wet with tears, and Peter reached out to wipe them away while his other hand gently rubbed your arm. He was gently shushing you, pulling you close, and you were still so focused on the memories that haunted your sleep that you didn’t even care. His hand trailed to the back of your head as your forehead grazed his shoulder.
“You’re okay,” he whispered.
You weren’t okay.
“You’re safe…”
You weren’t though.
You were held captive in a house full of men living out their trad wife fantasy, one of which who wouldn’t hesitate to toss you down into the basement over the smallest of things. You were expected to be okay with everything happening, to just accept it and even smile in the face of it…like Jane. You thought about the way she’d smile at Thor, and you cried harder.
You didn’t want to be like Jane and find happiness here or some kind of contentment. You didn’t want to be in a place where you smiled at your captor and welcomed him with open arms. However…you didn’t want to be like Margaret either. You didn’t want to be fucked for all to see as some kind of punishment, and you didn’t want to be like Natasha, spending months down there in the dark. You didn’t want to be here, at all.
“What happened to them?” you mumbled, and Peter hummed in confusion.
You sniffed, and he tightened his arms around you.
“My friends…”
You felt Peter tense for half a second before he exhaled.
“I don’t know,” he said, making you frown. “I… I didn’t hurt them. My responsibility was you.”
Fresh tears spilled over at that, and you were torn between asking him so many questions and wanting to know as little as possible. Why you? Why were you his responsibility? Why did they have to kill your friends? Just…why?
“I’m not the one who killed them, so I…I don’t know.”
Peter sounded sad, regretful, and it only made you cry more. Peter didn’t kill them, but did that really make him so much better? No, but you couldn’t find the strength to pull away from him. You almost wanted to ask him why his friends had. Why had they cut their lives short so seamlessly? You were afraid of the answer to be honest. You were afraid to hear how little their lives mattered to them when they were everything to you.
You slowly blinked before squeezing your eyes shut.
“Kill me.”
You whispered it so softly that you were sure Peter didn’t hear you at first. Even if he did, the words had to have thrown him because he sat up, pulling back some and lifting your head.
“What?”
“Kill me,” you begged, looking at him with a pleading gaze. “I can’t do this, and I don’t have it in me to… I can’t.”
Peter shifted, making you completely face him, now as he shushed you. You’d started crying again, chest tightening, and Peter shushed you, gently shaking you.
“Hey, no-.”
“I can’t do this,” you sobbed, shaking your head. “I can’t…”
You trailed off, descending into a fit of harsh sobs. Horrible choking sounds escaped you while Peter tried to calm you down. Your fingers pressed into his arms as you pushed your face into his shoulder, begging him to kill you.
“I’m not going to do that,” he whispered into your hair. “I went through so much trouble to get you.”
You shook at the sound of his voice, a shudder traveling down your spine as he ran a finger over it. He rocked you, denying you what you asked him for, and you shuddered again when a finger traced patterns into your skin where your sleeve had slipped down. You felt him lean down some more, lips grazing your ear.
“From the first moment I saw you,” he breathed. “I knew I wanted to keep you…”
You heard him deeply inhale.
“…all to myself.”
You shook your head, but Peter only made a noise of disapproval.
“It’s a lot, I know. I know that,” he softly told you, rubbing your back. “…but we’re going to be so happy together. You’ll see.”
You didn’t understand why Peter wouldn’t just…kill you. Or at the very least, have one of the others do it. It seemed to come second nature to them, anyway. They could put you out of your misery, and then… Your thoughts trailed off, halting altogether, and you didn’t like that feeling in your chest.
With you gone, that just meant that someone else would eventually take your place. The thought of some other innocent soul going through what you were made your heart hurt. Especially since your friends had died in the process, so senselessly, and if you died too… It would just make their deaths even more pointless.
More tears escaped, and Peter continued to rock you in his arms.
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“The food looks wonderful, ladies.”
Steve’s voice reached your ears as you stared down at the dinner you’d helped prepare. After your embarrassing display that particular morning, it was agreed upon that you needed more time to slowly adjust. You were back in the kitchen for the first time today, and for the first time ever, you were sitting with everyone for dinner.
Sitting with the…family.
“Thank you, Steve.”
You jumped a bit as all the other women around the table thanked him in unison. You looked around in a mixture of wonder and fear, observing everyone else, hyperaware of your own shortcomings and newness. You were paranoid over screwing something up again. So focused on that, you almost missed Steve’s voice as he told everyone to bow their heads for grace.
You hadn’t come from the most religious of households, and you flinched when Jane reached for your hand on your left. You let her take it, looking at Peter with wide eyes when he did the same to your right. He sent you a secretive smile, reassurance on his face as he threaded his fingers through yours.
It was odd.
As Steve sat there saying grace, you wondered to yourself how he could do such a thing while also doing everything else he’d done. He’d murdered Pietro without hesitation, and who knows what he’d done with the rest of your friends. He’d kidnapped you and made it so that all of these other women could be kidnapped too. Hell, if you left the table this very second, you didn’t doubt that he’d throw you in the basement.
…and yet…with all of that being said…
He was sitting here…saying grace.
Peter didn’t let your hand go right away when Steve was done, bringing the back of it up to his lips. You looked at him when he did, dropping it as he sent you what was probably meant to be a comforting smile, reaching up to rub your back. You knew that Peter was just trying to make you feel comfortable, help ease you into everything, but it only made you want to cry.
You hated the way the conversation seemed to flow around you like this was a normal family having a normal family dinner talking about normal things instead of what it actually was. You looked down at your plate, grimacing at the green beans. You’d mentioned to Jane that you didn’t like them, but she’d sadly told you that you would have to learn to like them.
Steve didn’t exactly have any grace for a picky palate.
“Y/N made it.”
You looked over at the sound of your name, a smile on Pepper’s face as she looked at Steve. Your eyes met his, and you flinched, looking down just as he hummed.
“Is that so?” he sounded surprised. “Where’d you learn the recipe?”
He was talking about the fish. Pepper had evenly told you that Steve wanted to see more from you, and despite the smile on her lips, you could see the nervousness in her eyes. It wasn’t exactly a request, and so you’d prepared the fish in one of the ways your mom always had.
You blinked at his question, feeling eyes on you, and without meaning to, you turned to look at Peter. The brunette smiled at you, gently touching your arm and softly telling you that it was okay, nodding towards Steve.
“My mom taught me,” you eventually told the blond.
The atmosphere seemed to change at that, and you got the feeling that you weren’t supposed to mention anything about your life outside of whatever this was. At least, not out in the open. Steve cleared his throat at that, throwing you a tense smile, and you noticed that it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Well, she did a wonderful job,” he finally complimented.
There was a silence that followed in which Steve just…stared at you, and it wasn’t until Peter touched your arm again did you realize why.
“Thank you…Steve.”
He seemed pleased to hear that, going back to his food and the conversation started up around you again. You ate what you could, eyeing the green beans, and occasionally your eyes met Steve’s. It was like he knew you didn’t like them, and he was watching to see what you’d do. Your chest tightened, and you felt so…suffocated.
…but also isolated.
You watched, thinking to yourself how the other women had seemed to build relationships with one another that you had yet to. You knew it was probably done out of a combination of survival, a way to make things easier, and finding comfort with others in the same nightmare, but still. Even though you felt comfortable with Jane, that was as far as it went. You didn’t feel a kindred spirit with any of them, and how could you? To allow yourself to do so would be to accept your permanent place here, and you just couldn’t do that.
Not yet.
You glanced over, eyes catching familiar green ones as you and Natasha just…stared at each other. It was hard to make sense of the beautiful redhead sometimes. She was very cold, intimidating, and you couldn’t help but to feel so inferior around her. You watched Bucky say something to her, and you watched the way she turned and smiled at him.
It wasn’t a forced one, that much you could tell, and it seemed like she did find some contentment in her situation with him, but the fire in her eyes was also as clear as day. Natasha seemed like the kind of woman who would never be fully broken, and you looked down.
Your brows knitted together as your eyes landed on your plate.
Your green beans were gone, and you warily glanced up, noting that Steve’s attention was occupied with Sam. You’d finally been formally introduced to the man who’d helped kill your friends, Sharon’s husband, and you swallowed. Everyone else seemed to be pulled into conversation too, and when you looked over, your eyes met Peter’s.
He sent you a wink, and when you looked down, you noticed he had way more green beans than he’d originally had. You blinked at the sight before looking away. Steve hadn’t noticed, and you didn’t know how to feel about the gesture. Any small act of kindness just wasn’t enough to make up for your situation. It would never be enough.
…and yet, you couldn’t fight the relief you felt as you sat back and finished the rest of your food.
When it came time for bed, you found yourself staring at the window as Peter slipped in behind you. What was originally just one night of sleeping next to Peter had turned into another and then a few and then several before you knew it. The comfort of the bed had outweighed your fear that pushed you to sleep on the floor.
Peter had yet to force it to come crawling back, and you almost scoffed at the thought that despite his involvement in everything, you could at least appreciate him not forcing himself on you. Your nightmares were becoming more frequent, and you hated to admit how helpful Peter’s presence was. The same man who had caused them to begin with.
Sleep kept evading you for several reasons as you stared at the window. You were afraid of what would greet you when you finally closed your eyes, and you felt your throat tighten. Tears kissed your eyes before you knew it, and it was hard to keep your sobs in.
After some time, you both felt and heard Peter shift, moving over the sheets as he came closer. You didn’t react when his hand touched your shoulder, and you heard him sigh.
“You need to sleep…”
You knew he was right. God forbid you should be anything less than alert while Steve was around, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to. Peter sighed again, moving closer before wrapping his arm around you. You felt him press his face into your neck, shushing you.
“It’s okay,” he quietly assured you. “I’ll be right here.”
You stared at the window through a tearful gaze.
“You can sleep, and whatever happens, I’ll be right here.”
You bit your lip.
“Just like I have been for every other night…”
You could feel his breathing against your back, chest rising and falling evenly, and eventually, yours followed suit.
“That’s it,” Peter whispered. “Just breathe…”
You clung to his arm, torn between fighting sleep and accepting it. At some point, the latter won.
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“Good morning.”
The voice startled you, not expecting it, and so you didn’t reply when the other women in the kitchen did.
“Good morning, Peter.”
You looked over your shoulder at him, and you blinked at the sight of him in his uniform. It brought you back to the first day you’d met him, and you swallowed. You got the feeling that it was unusual for one of the men to be so present in the kitchen because Margaret and Sharon gave Peter odd looks as he approached you.
“I don’t leave for another half hour or so,” he said, settling next to you. “I wanted to check on you. See how you’re doing…”
You were making biscuits at the request of Margaret, and that was what you told him.
“I’m not very good at it,” you mumbled.
You’d messed up one batch already. Peter chuckled at your words, reaching up to play with an errant hair, moving closer.
“We all have to start somewhere,” he told you, reaching for your hands.
You watched him do better than you had been, eyes focused on the way he maneuvered your hands. They were gentle on yours, and you could feel his breath on your ear as he helped you. it was hard to discern how his presence made you feel, but it was clear it made the other two uncomfortable even if only for the unfamiliarity of it.
“Peter, we can handle this,” Margaret told him, her voice sweet. “You shouldn’t be in here, dirtying your uniform.”
You could tell by her tone that Margaret was more concerned with messing up the clear order Steve had for everyone in the house, but as Peter turned to smile at her, it was clear he didn’t care.
“I’ll be fine.”
There was a finality in his tone that she picked up on, giving him a tense smile before returning to the eggs she was cooking. Neither of them said anything else as Peter continued to help you, quietly talking to you.
“The more you practice, the better you’ll get,” he whispered, and you nodded. “Pretty soon, you’ll be running laps around this kitchen.”
That didn’t reassure you. You didn’t want to. You didn’t want to be good at this and become a good housewife and impress anyone with your culinary skills. You wanted to get out.
“Peter.”
You tensed at the voice, and you knew Peter noticed by the way his hand fell to your waist. You both looked over your shoulders, and you shrank in on yourself at the sight of Steve in his own uniform, leaning in the doorway. Where Peter’s uniform made him look childish in nature, Steve’s made him even scarier if that was possible.
“Since when do we cook?”
Steve’s tone was mocking, but there was an underlying edge in his voice, and as you both turned around, you found yourself partially hiding behind Peter. The blond definitely noticed, blue eyes focused on you, and you didn’t miss the way they lowered to the sight of your hand reaching for the back of Peter’s shirt.
Peter chuckled, reaching back and taking your hand.
“I just wanted to spend some time with her before we had to leave. That’s all,” he said with a shrug.
You couldn’t tell how Steve felt about that answer, it was hard to guess, and you found your hand tightening in Peter’s the longer Steve stared at you. Eventually, the blond pushed himself away from the wall with a low hum, leaving the four of you with just that.
Peter sighed, and you got the feeling that would be a whole thing later.
“I better go,” he said, letting go of your hand, and you frowned at how vulnerable you suddenly felt.
You watched him leave, worrying your lip before eventually turning around and finishing the biscuits the same way Peter had.
With Steve gone, you felt more relieved, but knowing that Peter also wasn’t in the house, you felt…out of place. You helped Nat and Christine, Stephen’s wife, with laundry, but you didn’t say much. The same went for when you were helping Pepper in the greenhouse. You were too caught up in your thoughts, and you were sure that it was noticeable.
You sometimes wondered if the other women thought you were crazy. Especially after the incident that morning, but then you wondered if they themselves had exhibited similar behaviors. After all, every single one of you were victims, and while they had all seemed to long adjust to the situation, you were still grappling with your new reality.
You didn’t know how to behave around anyone or what to say, and more often than not, you just wanted to cry. Strangely enough, you only felt comfortable doing that in front of Peter, and maybe that was why when Steve returned home from the station without the brunette, something like disappointment filled you.
You’d wanted to ask Steve where he was but thought better of it. Even still, it was like he read your mind at the dinner table, telling you that Peter had some cases and paperwork to go over, so he’d be coming home late. You hadn’t responded, merely nodding, and you didn’t miss the way Steve eyed you, studying your face.
You forced yourself to finish your food, giving an answer or two here and there when Jane tried to talk to you. She was the one to walk you to your room, letting you in and locking the door behind you. It was still somewhat flattering that any of them thought you had it in you to escape or at the very least, try. After your unsuccessful attempt, something in you told you to stop kidding yourself.
Even if you ever did manage to, where would you go? How would you go about getting out of this town? Getting back to your mom? The cops that ran this town were the same ones down the hall in the house where you were held captive.
Sleep was even more difficult to find, and you tossed and turned, the occasional wave of tears spilling over. You both wanted and didn’t want to sleep. At least with Peter here, you were confident you’d have someone around to calm you down and get you back to sleep after the nightmares, but now you were alone.
Your heart wouldn’t steady, and you reached up, tugging at your hair as tears kissed your eyes. You laid on your side and stared at the window, bringing your knees up to your chest. Alone with just your thoughts, they started going to a place they hadn’t been since that morning in the kitchen. It was almost like you could see the faces of your friends in the window, and you sat up.
You paced around the room for what felt like hours, rubbing your neck and pulling at your hair. You hoped that anyone downstairs couldn’t hear your footsteps, and your forced deep breathing wasn’t doing anything. The sound of a vehicle had you slowing down, and you looked over your shoulder at the window. You slowly approached it, only able to see car lights shining from the front yard.
It couldn’t be anyone else but Peter, and your eyes burned from how tired they were. When you eventually heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs, you neared the door, and you couldn’t stop yourself from crouching down. At the sight of feet slowing in front of the door, you hurriedly straightened just as it was unlocked and opened.
Peter looked surprised at the sight of you, and then he frowned.
“Why are you still up?”
You didn’t know how to voice the problem.
You couldn’t sleep, and while that wasn’t new, you still somehow eventually found sleep. However, that was when Peter was here, and you didn’t know how to voice that. You didn’t even know how to put into words that with him gone, sleep and the right amount of comfort to relax eluded you completely. You were afraid.
You were afraid that you’d have another nightmare, and no one would be there when you woke up.
“Couldn’t sleep,” was all you said, and Peter closed the door behind him.
You couldn’t name the way he looked at you, but he eventually sighed, reaching out to touch your chin.
“Okay,” he said. “Let me get out of this uniform, and I’ll be right there.”
You slowly sat on the bed, watching him go into the bathroom. You sat like that for minutes, still and watching the door, and when he finally came back out, you stood. You said nothing as Peter pulled the covers back, watching you climb in, and after he tucked you in, you watched him do the same, a weight easing off your chest that you didn’t want to acknowledge.
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leighsartworks216 · 6 months
Text
Moon Blood
Astarion x gn/fem!Tav/Reader
(Basically anybody who experiences periods can read this I just don't know what to tag it as)
Tav is described as having irregular periods and a heavy flow, which I know doesn't really leave it open to everyone. But it's true to my experience, so I'm sure some other irregular-period people can also appreciate this
(Also it's just a really self-indulgent story I wrote for me lmao)
Warnings: blood, blood drinking, period fic, references to sex, swearing
Word Count: 1,210
Main Masterlist
First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist
AO3
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You roll over in your bedroll again, groaning as quietly as you could as you clutch at your abdomen. An aching pain roiled just below your belly. And there it seemed determined to stay for however long it deemed fit.
Your moon bloods were always a shock - you never knew when they would happen and you never knew how long they would last, because the gods seem to think it’s funny to make it so relentlessly inconsistent. Not to mention how heavy they could be. After everything you’ve faced on your perilous journey so far, this was the fucking worst.
The pain rises to a peak. All you can do is curl in on yourself, hugging your stomach as tight as possible to will the pain away. Does it help? No. But there’s nothing else that could… Well…
You feel like an idiot when you knock on the wooden post outside Astarion’s tent. You were pretty sure he already knew of your problem, if the restlessness whenever he was near was any indication. You couldn’t imagine the temptation, but you could admire his resolve. That wasn’t why you were here.
He calls a muffled ‘Come in’ and you push aside the canvas door. You see the change instantly. The way his eyes darken with the scent of blood, his smirk more predatory than usual. You begin to wonder if this was a bad idea.
“Hello, darling,” he purrs, low and seductive. His book is set aside in favor of standing to greet you in the small space. His hands slide around your waist, nails pressing lightly into your spine. He leans down, pressing his nose to your pulse as he whispers, “You smell delicious.”
You clear your throat. “As tempting as that is…” You step back slightly, and he doesn’t try to stop you. Instead, he pulls his face from your neck and rests his hands at your sides. One more step and he would let you go entirely. “I just want to cuddle.”
He huffs, face scrunching in annoyance. “You come in here with a banquet between your legs, and all you want is to cuddle?” The irritation can hardly be read as genuine when his thumbs begin to rub circles into your hips soothingly.
“Mhm. My cramps and back are killing me,” you explain. You gesture back outside the tent. “I could go ask Gale, if you think you’ll be too tempted.”
“Don’t even think about it,” he hisses, but it’s an empty threat.
He pulls you with him back to the pile of pillows he was lounging in before, sitting down and leaning comfortably against the pile. You stopped, standing just before him, even as he nudged your hip toward him, silently telling you he was ready for you to join him.
“Are you sure you’ll be alright with…” You don’t know how to phrase it in a way that doesn’t sound strange. But your need to make sure he is comfortable wins out above everything else. “With smelling the blood all night?”
His eyes soften as he smiles. The tinge of animalistic hunger still lingers behind it, but your dismissal of his preposition has pushed it toward the back, almost entirely hidden. “I’ll be alright. I’m not starved enough to lash out at any moment, I swear.”
You frown. “You know that’s not what I’m worried about.”
He chuckles despite your scolding. “I know.” You give him a pointed look and he rolls his eyes with a sigh. “Yes, dear, I’ll be alright smelling your blood all night. Now are you going to stand there all night?”
Assured in his comfort, you finally lay down, draping yourself over him, legs slotting between each other and arms holding each other close, and your head resting on his chest. The first few times you cuddled like this, you were worried your weight would make him uncomfortable, or worse, remind him of his 200 years of abuse. But he insisted, when he didn’t want to be cradled to your chest, of course.
He rests a hand at your lower back and begins working his fingers into the aching muscles there. You sigh and relax further into him. He doesn’t need air, but his chest still rises and falls with slow breaths. It’s disconcerting without a heartbeat to accompany it, or it would be if it was anybody else. But it’s Astarion, and instead the sound of his breathing alone was soothing.
You rest there for a moment, eyes closed. The position you’ve taken eases some of the pain, hand-in-hand with Astarion’s nimble touch. For now, the pain is a little more bearable.
You lift your head to look at him. He’s already looking at you, soft and at ease, eyes round with affection. “If you want to, you can eat,” you tell him. You jump to add, “From my neck.”
He chuckles. “Thank you for clarifying,” he teases.
“Well, like you said, I’m here with a banquet. I don’t want you to suffer just because I’m not in the mood.”
“I’m hardly suffering, dear,” he assures. “But I will take you up on your offer.”
You smile as you tilt your head, exposing your neck to him. He sits up, shifting you as he does until you’re eye-to-eye, before he buries his face against the nearly-faded marks he’s left. He continues to rub your back as he uses his free hand to cup the back of your head, keeping you in place and steady. He takes his time to press kisses all around his target. Your moon blood makes you taste sweeter; your skin smells so enticing. But he can savor it later.
You only get two warnings he’s about to bite: the hand holding your head tangles its fingers in your hair, holding you more firmly in place, though still being gentle about it; and the flat of his tongue running along the old punctures.
The sharp pain of ice in your veins never lasts. His mouth sucks and tongues at the punctures, drawing your blood out with practiced ease and drinking it down greedily. You close your eyes and relax into it. You trust him. And the odd feeling of your blood being pulled from your veins like liquid through a straw and the dizziness that accompanies it is much more bearable without vision.
Once he’s had his fill, he pulls his mouth off your neck and licks languidly at the last few drops until your blood clots. He slowly lowers himself back into the cushions, careful not to worsen your light-headedness with the motion. You rest your head back on his chest like a rag doll, limp and tired. He cards his fingers through your hair a few times before simply wrapping his arm around you. He mindlessly continues to rub circles into your back, keeping the pain at bay for you to sleep.
You try to speak through half-intelligible thoughts as exhaustion and comfort begins to claim you. Mostly ‘thank you’s, though a heavily slurred ‘I love you’ surfaces once or twice. He gently sushes you. And then you’re fast asleep, as if speaking was the only thing keeping you awake.
And in the morning, well, he’s more than happy to take care of you.
---
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multifariousqueer · 3 months
Note
hi love. could u write where felix takes care of fem!reader on her period? currently abt to get mine and i need some comfort lol, mine r hell. if u don’t want to that’s okay<3
Sure!
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The morning sunshine blared through the window as your stomach started to sting a familiar sting. You had hoped that it would wait another week but it came in hot and dull as you awoke to the feeling of being wet. Your arm instinctively reached for your alarm clock only to find that you had class in a few minutes and had slept in. A groan escaped your lips as a text from Felix crept its way onto your device:
“Good morning, darling 😀”- Felix( don’t kill me, it was the early 2000’s)
“Where are you?”- Felix
You scrambled to get dressed and put on a pad before leaving your dorm.
The autumnal air brushed your skin as you felt more emotional and stressed. Felix and you had a project worth 3% of your semester grade due today and you stayed up until 12 last night messing around so you forgot to finish it. Tears stung at your eyes as you admonished yourself for not doing a basic task but you didn’t have time to go into a full fit because you were late.
When you reached class, the entire class looked at you as the door creaked open and Felix’s eyed you up and down before realizing that you weren’t okay. You sat down next to him and searched your bag for your supplies before realizing that you left your period bag at home. A period bag consists of : pads, tampons, lotion, perfume, and an emergency pair of panties. Upon the heartbreaking realization, you groaned and put your hands over your eyes and Felix immediately took notice:
“Y’alright love?” Felix said, rubbing your back.
This caused you to break into full blown tears as you got up and left class to run some water over your face.
Felix got up and followed a few minutes later to make sure you were okay:
“What happened?” He asked with genuine concern on his face
“I’m just on my period, that’s all”- you sobbed back
“Do you need anything to get through class?” He asked while rubbing your back
“I just want to cuddle with you and shower and go back to bed” you sniffled
“After class, I promise I will do that for you” Felix spoke
Felix hated seeing you in pain and he hated seeing you cry more. A piece of his soul broke Everytime you cried and he wanted to whatever it took to make you happy again.
Felix walked you back into class with a hand on the small of your back and he sat you down. He went up to the professor and spoke a few words that were unintelligible from where you were sitting and the professor called you over to his desk:
“Ms. L/n, it seems that you are incapacitated and scattered right now so I am willing to give you an extension on the project. Of course, I will have to knock off a few points but it is still possible to pass” the professor said sternly.
“Thank you so much!” You smiled
“Please sit down and try not to disrupt the class any longer” the professor spoke before going back to grading.
“Yes sir” you said.
Felix observed the interaction with a straight face before breaking out into a grin and escorting you back to your seat.
“How about we go back to my dorm after class and finish our project later” he said softly
“Please.” You said, while practically giving him a begging stare
Felix pulled you into a hug before planting a kiss on your forehead and returning his attention back to the lecture. He still kept his hand on your thigh and he snuck glances your way every now and again to make sure you weren’t in pain.
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Eventually, you went back to Felix’s dorm and he went to a drawer and pulled out a box of pads. Felix kept his stash stocked ever since he started dating you because he always wanted you to be comfortable.
“Wait here, I’ll go run you a bath” he said, ushering you to sit on his bed
You nodded in response and pulled out your textbook to finish the project once Felix left. You made a decent amount of headway before Felix came back and shut the textbook while staring at you:
“I told you we’d do this later, y/n” he smirked
“I know but…” you started before Felix interrupted you
“Even in pain, you’re still scholarly?” Felix asked quizzically while smirking at you
“I’m on my period, Felix. I’m not dying” you remarked
“So you don’t want to be cuddled?” He asked
“No no I do!!” You said with puppy eyes
Felix chuckled and took you into the bathroom. He undressed you and did away with your pad before delicately placing you into the tub. He was careful not to scrub you too hard but he wanted to get you as clean as possible. You sank into the warm, eucalyptus scented water and mewled as the warmth enveloped your body. Felix ran water over your body and made sweet comments about how strong you were for enduring your period:
“Look at my princess, so beautiful” he smiled
“Mmmm I love you” you sighed
“I adore you too, darling” he said, kissing your eyebrow before leaving to go to his bedroom.
You jolted a bit as Felix’s absence set in. You opened your eyes and looked around before you heard movement in his room.
Felix was prepping a pair of underwear for you and laying out an outfit for you. It was his old rugby shirt and some old boxers of his that you used as shorts. Felix learned how to prep underwear one day when you showed in “in case of emergencies” and he always prepped yours if you couldn’t. Felix also laid out some chocolate for you and put a stuffed animal on the bed. He went to get you from the bath:
“Where did you go?” You asked sadly
“I went to go clean up a bit and get you ready for bed” he replied
He pulled you from the tub and helped you get dressed. Felix laid you on the bed and cuddled with you. You took in the scent of his cologne and aftershave while making soft noises of comfort against his chest. He grabbed you and held you close and sooner or later you fell asleep in his embrace.
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cuubism · 10 days
Text
Physical Therapy, Part 8
--
A few days later, Hob goes to Dream’s old flat. He wanted to go immediately, but he needed time to calm himself. If he went to confront Dream’s ex immediately, he’d be too likely to do something inadvisable out of anger.
Truthfully, he’s still so angry.
He can control himself, though. So he knocks on the door, instead of taking it off its hinges.
Dream’s ex-boyfriend opens the door with an annoyed look on his face. But jumps back, startled, at the sight of Hob. He recognizes Hob, then. Good.
“I’m here for Dream’s things,” he says. No need to prolong this with pleasantries.
“His things?” says the ex, with disdain, like Dream’s possessions mean nothing to him. “Why? He’ll come back anyway. Eventually.”
“No, he won’t.”
Ex-boyfriend leans against the door frame, smirking. Maybe Hob should have just punched him. “You going to stop him?”
Hob takes a deep, long breath. No. He actually wouldn’t try to stop him. He’s not going to force Dream to do anything. He’d try to convince him otherwise, though. And if he can be a good enough boyfriend, then maybe Dream will never feel the need to go back to some horrible place, looking for love.
“I don’t try to make people stay in my house,” he snaps. “His things. Now. You think I won’t punch you again?”
So much for being calm.
For the first time, that smirking look slips. “It’s all worthless anyway,” he says.
Hob grits his teeth. The stupidest thing is, even for someone who doesn’t care about Dream himself, Dream’s art is objectively not worthless. Hob had looked it up once. Dream’s paintings sell for thousands of pounds. Sometimes tens of thousands. It’s not just Dream’s passion that he’s so jealous and disparaging about, but his livelihood, his basic ability to support himself.
“Are you going to let me take it?” he says. “Or are we going to have a problem?”
Ex-boyfriend looks annoyed—and uncomfortable?—but finally just gestures Hob in. “Fine. Whatever.”
Inside, the flat is… kind of cold. It’s not homey. He can’t imagine Dream living here; he can barely imagine Dream living in his own flat, which is likewise utterly empty of decoration. But there are spots on the wall, here, that are empty in a more conspicuous way. Like Dream’s art might once have hung there.
Hob doesn’t know the entirety of what he’s looking for, but he thinks he’ll be able to identify most of Dream’s things by sight. And indeed—with Dream’s ex trailing him like an irritable ghost—he finds some of what must be Dream’s clothes in the closet, and Dream’s sketchbooks and books and paperwork all stacked in boxes. Like they’d been on their way out.
So much for “he’s definitely coming back.”
Dream’s ex doesn’t stop him as he packs stuff up and gathers it by the door. But as Hob looks at what he’s managed to collect, there’s obviously something missing. Pieces that were still drying and pieces that were too large to carry, Dream had said, when speaking of what he'd left behind.
“Where’s the rest of his art?”
Now ex-boyfriend does look uncomfortable. A sinking feeling settles in Hob’s stomach. “Why would I keep that shit, anyway? I told you, it’s worthless."
“It’s not worthless,” Hob snaps, but this time his voice breaks. He scrubs a hand through his hair. Looks at the empty spaces on the wall.
He tries to imagine what happened. Did he just toss it all? Coldly? Methodically? No, Hob doesn’t think so. If he had he would have just gotten rid of the rest of Dream’s stuff, too.
What he can imagine is a fit of rage, with his real target, Dream, having fled, and only the supposed distraction, his life’s work, left behind.
Dream's ex-boyfriend is watching him warily. He seems nervous about what Hob might do, like Hob is an unpredictable animal. Good. Maybe he'll understand how Dream's felt. “You got what you came for,” he says. “Just go.”
“Yeah, I’m trying to decide if I'm going to kill you first.”
Dream’s ex takes a startled step back. And Hob really, really wants to just fucking bash this guy’s head in. But he has to restrain himself. Not just because he doesn’t want to get arrested for assault, though that’s also better avoided.
No. It’s really that he doesn’t want to be another violent man in Dream’s life.
As satisfying as it was to throw that first punch in Dream’s defense, making it physical now would be a different matter. If he shows that he’s capable of resorting to real violence to get what he wants, or to punish someone for something, Dream is always going to have that in the back of his head when he looks at him. There will always be a tiny corner of his brain harboring the fear that that impulse could turn on him.
He’s already kind of pushing boundaries by being here at all, and only getting away with it because Dream didn’t actually tell him not to go, just that he himself didn’t want to. God his blood is heated and this asshole definitely deserves to be taught a lesson but it’s not worth putting a crack in Dream’s trust in him.
“You’re lucky I care more about what he thinks of me,” he finally says. Then he gathers all of Dream’s stuff, and makes himself leave. Dream’s ex, wisely, doesn’t say anything else as he goes.
Dream is in the middle of trying to paint when Hob arrives. Or rather, in the middle of staring at a canvas, wishing he could paint. He’d bought a large canvas in the hopes that he might try to do something in his old style, something more detailed and precise. But he’s been too intimidated by the prospect to even begin mixing colors.
He keeps finding himself staring at all the empty space in his flat, at walls that should be hung with art. But he doesn’t have any of his large pieces left. They were all sold prior to… the incident… or left behind. He only has the smaller ones that were in his portfolio.
He’s been finding himself regretting selling those pieces. He had never been bothered by it before, but now he wants to track down the buyers and beg for them back. But he won't. Some of those paintings had sold for tidy sums, which is the reason he can afford this flat despite not having a steady job. And he has no guarantee of being able to sell something at that rate again.
He at least has photographs of everything he’s ever sold. The same can’t be said of what he’d kept for himself, or left unfinished.
He startles at the knock on the door, but remembers: Hob said he would come over today.
He still hasn’t been able to shake the need to block the door whenever he’s home, so he has to shove aside a bookcase before he can let Hob in. When he opens the door, Hob is carrying a box, and wearing a pained smile. “Here,” he says, giving it to Dream. “I have more in the car.”
He disappears back down the stairs before Dream can question him, and Dream sets the heavy box down on the kitchen island.
It’s full of his sketchbooks.
For several moments he just stares at them, not daring to touch. How did Hob— did he go to Dream’s flat?
Hob comes back with another two boxes, precariously balanced, while Dream is still staring at the first one. These, it seems, are full of documents, and personal effects, and some of his favorite books.
“How—?” he tries to ask, nearly struck dumb.
“I went to your house,” Hob says. “Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have. But you deserve to have your things.”
At first, he is only shocked to think that someone would go to such lengths for him. Then, Dream feels a surge of hope. Perhaps—
But. No. Of all things, Hob would have known to grab his artwork. He would have lead with that.
“…Oh,” Dream says quietly, looking down.
“Yeah,” Hob says, face falling. “I’m so sorry, Dream, that’s all that was there— I mean I still have some of your clothes in the car, but—”
“I love you,” Dream says, tearing up. Hob actually went back. To get his things. Even when Dream said it wasn’t worth doing.
When he looks up again, Hob looks stunned. And only then does Dream realize what he’s said. He swallows nervously, but he doesn’t want to take it back. It doesn’t matter if he truly meant that he’s in love with Hob. Because either way, he loves Hob. And no one has ever loved him like this, like it was easy. And without question.
“I—” Hob stammers. “I mean it’s really not—”
Dream takes his hands and squeezes them, and Hob stops talking. “It is,” Dream says. “It is a big deal. To me.”
“Well,” Hob finally manages, voice still tight. “I want you to be happy, Dream. You deserve that.”
It’s not a sentiment Dream is used to hearing directed towards him. But hearing it from Hob makes him feel like… maybe it can be. Maybe it should be.
Dream kisses him, still holding his hands. He feels himself smile into the kiss. Another thing he’s not used to doing, but it feels good.
Hob smiles too, as he cradles Dream’s face between his hands. And even though Hob wasn’t able to recover his art, even though his ex probably destroyed it—which is agonizing to think about—in this one moment, Dream is… happy.
It's so strange that it almost hurts. But he thinks he’s actually happy.
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carmenberzattosgf · 1 month
Note
hi it’s 💫 again so sorry for flooding your inbox i just have too much time on my hands so let’s chat about needy carmen :)
he’s definitely a little shy about it at the beginning of the relationship. long, lingering stares and fidgeting with his hands. would probably try playing it cool until he knows you’re in the mood too.
once he’s more confident and comfortable, his hands would be on your waist and hips. giving you ‘please fuck me’ eyes. if he’s not THAT needy he’d be a little silly i think saying shit like “baby please, you just look too good!” “giving me blue balls—im kidding, im kidding! yeesh☺️”
if he is super needy though…he’s cuddled up into your side like he’s trying to melt into you, lips curled into a little frown. “can i have you?” “need you…missed you so much today” “baby just need you so bad”
I told you never apologize for flooding my ask box! Your stuff makes my brain go brrr like AH. ilysm and I love how you think about Carmy!
needy Carmen. Yes. Now that he’s in a relationship he just wants you so bad. Like all the time. He’s had so few romantic relationships he’s still learning how to balance it all.
But! He’s so shy at first he doesn’t know if you are feeling up to it right now and he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. That leads to him not so subtly staring you down while you sit on the couch in his apartment, scrolling through your phone while a show plays in the background.
The first thing you notice is his knee bouncing up and down rapidly. Next his staring becomes more apparent, and the way he’s fighting with his fingertips.
“Something wrong, Carm?” He blinks at your words. Almost like he’s caught off guard himself.
“W-what? No. I’m fine.”
“You sure about that?” You lean closer to him, letting your hand rest on his knee, soothing its shaking. “What is it, baby?”
“Fuck—“ A strangled groan leaves his throat. Your eyes dart down to the bulge growing in his sweatpants. You crawl over him, letting your knees part so you can straddle his hips. Carmy’s hands settle on your waist, holding on tight.
“You want me? Is that why you’re all tense? You gotta tell me before you get like this, sweetheart.”
“W-want you. Please.”
The longer you and Carmen date though, the more confident he becomes. He’s completely unashamed of how much he loves you… and your cunt. Carmy gets sooooo pussy drunk it’s not even funny.
When he catches you all dressed up for a work event, he can’t keep his hands off of you. “Fucking hell— you’re so pretty,” he mumbles into the skin of your neck, pressing you into the bathroom counter where you were getting ready.
“Carm— I need to go I’m going to be late.”
“C’mon, baby. I’ll be fast. I can make you cum in five minutes. I won’t let anything get on your clothes. I promise. Please.” His hand slips underneath your dress, pressing against your soaked underwear. “You’re already soaked for me. Let me make you feel good. Please, baby.”
Carmen is indeed fast. He bends you over the bathroom counter and pounds onto you like there’s no tomorrow. His fingers work fast on your bud, drawing fast circles. He also doesn’t let anything get in your clothes because as soon as he cums inside of you, he falls to his knees to clean you up with his tongue.
Now while his confidence grows in your relationship, he also becomes more okay with just how needy he actually is. He just loves your touch. He loves how your skin feels against his. How you two fit together perfectly.
On this particular day, Carmen has the day off, while you don’t. You get home late to Carmen already in bed. Thinking he’s asleep, you walk over to the other side of the bed and slip under the covers, ready to go to sleep.
However, that’s when Carmen rolls over and wraps his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your skin. “Missed you today.” He’s basically melting into you, desperate to be touching as much of you as possible. “Don’t like it when you’re not here.”
“I know, baby. I couldn’t get anyone to cover for me.”
“C-can I have you?” The desperation in his words draws your attention to the hardness poking into your ass. Little whimpers leave his mouth as his hips naturally rock into you. “Need you so bad, please. Missed you so much.”
“Carm, have you been like this all day?” He nods his head against your shoulder blade.
“I—uh. I had a dream about you, but when I woke up you had already left. I didn’t want to get off without you. Wanted you— wanted your cunt.”
“You have me, baby. Go ahead.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you. Love you so much.” His hands shake as he pulls down your underwear and then his own. Carmy doesn’t waste time to take off your shirt, he just needs to be inside you.
Carmy fucks you slow. His pace isn’t hurried, focusing more on deep thrusts. The entire time he’s flooding your ear with praise. “F-fuck, baby. So fucking good. You’re so good to me. I-it’s like I’m made for you—“ He whines when you press on the small of his back, forcing his cock even deeper inside of you. He hits a spot that makes stars explode across your vision.
“Carmy— shit! Please, right there. Just like that, fuck—“ you weave your fingers in his hair, tugging at the roots. Carmy’s slow messy pace continues, but it’s perfect. His thumb begins to circle your clit as his cock keeps hitting deep inside you.
“I-I’m getting close baby— love you. Fuck. I love you so much. Going to fill you up till you’re dripping. You’re mine, my beautiful girl.”
“Y-yours, Carm. Always yours.”
And yes he cums inside of you and you cockwarm him to sleep. Ain’t no way he’s going to pull out of you now. You couldn’t care less. With Carmen on top of you like this, you’ve never felt more safe. Clean up can wait till the morning
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slytherinshua · 3 days
Text
FISH ≠ HUMAN
genre. fluff. sickfic. warnings. reader is sick (only headache/nausea is mentioned). donghyun is trying his best </3 pairing. leehan x fem!reader. wc. 423. request. no. a/n. written just quickly for @blue-jisungs bcuz whenever my friends are sick i feel compelled to write them sickfics bcuz like well... they deserve it :( so i hope this makes you feel a bit better and get well soon my baby <33
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“You don’t think that… fish antibiotics would work, would they?” You heard your boyfriend call out from the bathroom, shuffling through the cabinets for the medication that he swore he had. You wanted to laugh, but that would lead to another coughing fit and you really couldn’t handle that right now.
“I’m not a fish, Donghyun.” You mumbled quietly, closing your eyes again.
“What was it that you said you needed? Ibuprofen? I only have fish ciprofloxacin, though…” He muttered the last part quietly, taking one last onceover of the shelf before giving up. “I think I’ll have to go pick something up at the store. Do you need anything else? Anything I can do before I go?” He asked a little awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.
It was clear that your boyfriend had no idea how to treat human sickness once it proved to be different than treating his fishes. He knew what to do if one of his corydoras had fallen ill— isolate the fish, clean the water regularly with antibiotics and methylene blue when needed, even apply some topical disinfectants when needed. But when it came to his girlfriend, he was almost clueless.
He knew the basics; making sure you got lots of sleep and drank water or tea. But he didn’t have any medication to give you or any other expertise in the area. You were lucky that Donghyun didn’t have a busy schedule for the next couple of days.
“Just get the ibuprofen… my head is killing me. Maybe some ginger tea? My nausea still hasn’t gone away.” You asked softly, and Donghyun nodded.
He crouched down, feeling your forehead again. He placed his other hand on his own forehead, trying to differentiate the two, but from his furrowed confused eyebrows, you were guessing he couldn’t tell. You pushed his hand away, urging him silently to go out to the store.
“Right, sorry.” He frowned. He kissed your forehead quickly before leaving, promising to be back with medication, tea, and anything else he could find at the store.
You sighed once you heard the front door close, your eyes drifting over to the fish tank in the room, watching the little creatures swim around in their seaweedy home. You smiled. You knew your boyfriend was trying his best, and you appreciated his willingness to get you what you needed. He cared about you just as much as he cared about his fish— but he still had a lot to learn about taking care of another human.
↳ boynextdoor taglist: @rizzshimura,, @captivq,, @icyminghao,, @eternalgyu,, @metalchick529,,
@schmocolateschmchip,, @kpoprhia,, @candewlsy,, @weird-bookworm,, @cyberpunksunwoo,,
@kangtaehyunzzz,, @snowflakemoon3,, @lovialy,, @lecheugo,, @okshu,,
@wccycc,, @seunghancore,, @ujisworld
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yunjinkisses · 4 months
Text
huh yunjin x 6th member f reader ⭐️
what is ahead: nsfw , strap on, humiliation , degradation,praise , mommy kink,hair pulling,unnie kink,and pet names! (reader receiving , yunjin giving)
ENJOY!
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alright let’s try it again five six seven eight!
chaewon was getting us to practice over and over until we got it perfect,even though it was already perfect ,her words not mine . but it was kind of exhausting
“come on chaewon unnie don’t you think we can have a break?”
“okay fine , sorry i just don’t wanna mess it up!,i mean our preformance is tomorrow ! “
she did have a point ,but everyone still got excited and let out a sigh of relief
“thanks chae unnie !!”
yunjin hung back to get her phone that was playing music from the speakers,i waited for her as everyone left,as usual,none of the members had known we were dating,because everyone would flip out
“hey y/n think you can do a favor for me?”
“of course jinnie,what’s up?”
“you know when we’re in private you can just call me jen ,right?
“force of habit sorry jen,but what’s up?”
yunjin then got closer to me and cornered me to the wall , i was sweating a lot , and really nervous
“jen what a-are you doing , we’re in the practice r-room..”
“as long as you’re quiet,nobody will know ,darling~”
she than started to kiss my neck , making my breath hitch,and get shallow ,breathy moans started to come out my mouth ,i quickly covered my mouth with my hand
“jen p-please..”
“please what? use your words..”
“please fuck m-me..”
“that’s a good girl~”
she started to take my clothes off slowly,and than place kisses down my body
“jennn please .. i can’t take it anymore…”
“be patient or else i’ll fuck you in front of everyone else,ok?”
“mhm..”
“we’ll do you want me here?”
she pointed to my chest and i just moved my head in a no motion
“orr here?”
she than trailed her fingers down to my panties that were the only things left on my body..
i swiftly nodded
“use your words baby”
“y-yes … i want you inside me…”
“as you wish~”
she than pushed my panties to the side and plunged two fingers inside of me , making me moan loudly,quickly i slapped my hand over my mouth as she moved in and out of me
“do you like that baby? like mommy moving inside of your pretty cunt? all wet and tight for mommy~”
“m-mhm!”
is all i could mutter out without moaning a bit louder
“come on use your words for mommy!”
“yes mommy i-i love it!”
i felt my walls tighten around jen’s fingers
“jen..fuck! m-gnna c-cum!”
she than pulled out of me
“jen what the fuck?”
“don’t worry baby i have a surprise for you!”
she than pulled out a 10 inch strap from her sports bag
“j-jen b-but i-i mean we’ve never-“
“don’t worry baby,i’ll make it fit~”
her words made me even wetter,i could have just came then and there.
she positioned me to face the wall,doggystyle basically,hands on the wall,and well yeah
“you ready to take mommy’s cock?”
“i’m r-ready..”
i had barely any time to say anything else before she put it all inside me , i let out a loud moan and put one of my hands over my mouth
“f-fuck unnie..it’s so big..”
“did you just call me unnie?”
“n-no..”
“keep doing that..i like it..”
“o-okay u-unnie..”
she than started to thrust into me a bit fast
“h-harder…”
“don’t fucking tell me what to do slut , keep talking and you’ll be getting fucked in front of everyone like i promised.”
she still went faster and harder ,making me moan louder ,and more ,making my legs shake
“fuck! unnie m-m close!”
“fucking slut. you gonna cum? well you don’t get to cum until i count to down to 1 from 3 okay bitch.”
“o-okay..”
“three”
she thrusted harder
“two”
and harder
“unnie fuck!”
she than came close to my ear and whispered
“cum for unnie~”
and than thrusted one last time inside of me
i moaned out unnies name,loudly,forgetting about the others ,not caring anymore.
“good job y/n/n , let’s go get you cleaned up now,unless you want me to clean you with my tongue?”
“m-mhm..”
“looks like we have a visitor~”
my heart stopped and my eyes looked over to the door to see chaewon coming back to get her bag
“u-uhm h-hi..”
“hi chae unnie! care to enjoy a free show?”
“i-i d-dunno uhm-“
“don’t worry me and y/n are completely willing to do it in front of you~”
i nodded no in jen’s lap not making eye contact with anyone but jen,as she had her hand on my chin making me look at her pretty face
god did i get lucky..
she put her strap inside me once again making me bounce up and down on it in front of chaewon
“m-mmphm u-unnie t-too much..”
“you know the safe word..just say it than~”
i stayed silent
“that’s what i thought you dirty slut.”
she made me bounce up and down up and down over and over again as tears fell down from my eyes from the overstimulation
she than pulled my hair hard,making me scream out moaning her name
“AH! JEN~ HARDER!~”
“awh that’s not very classy of you,we have a guest ,you should at least try to be respectful in front of her!”
she just pulled my hair harder and thrusted harder into me
“fucking slut.”
she than pulled my face into a kiss , as i moaned in between kisses,barely able to breathe from moaning so much
“come on baby,pose for our guest ,so she can take a nice picture of you~”
without thinking my eyes rolled back and my tongue flew out , as i made a face for chaewon
“good girl! giving our guest a good show i see~”
“u-unnie m-mhm! g-gonna c-cum!~”
jen whispered into my ear
“cum for the camera”
i came onto her strap,moaning her name out once again,cumming even harder this time
“hope you enjoyed the show chaewon!~”
chaewon was left stunned as she put her phone away,left in a pool of wetness in her own panties , as yunjin carried me out to our room as i was exhausted …
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moonstruckme · 3 months
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Hello my love! I have a request for a quick little blurby with whoever you think it fits! Basically, the reader has an extensive skin care routine, but she’s sick so all she wants to do is lay bed, but the beautiful man is helping her do it because he knows how much it means to her! Am I projecting? Yes because I’m sick as a dog right now and I didn’t do my skin care routine at all but I just didn’t have the energy to 🥺💕
Hi honey! Hope you're feeling a bit better <3
This isn’t very relaxing lmao apologies, he’s doing his best. And maybe modern au? Because I didn’t feel like researching 80s skincare
Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 814 words
“Shit,” Eddie hisses when you wince, pulling the washcloth away to kiss your eyelid. “Keep ‘em shut tight, baby, we don’t want this stuff getting in there.” 
“They are shut.” Your face pinches as he continues to scrub at your lashes with the washcloth. “I’m just not usually this rough with them, Eds. You’re going to tear out my eyelashes.” 
“Doing this?” He sounds dubious. “They can’t be very hardy, then.” 
“They’re not.” 
“Okay, okay.” He swipes the last of your mascara off a bit more delicately. “I can’t believe you went to work like this. I told you you were way too sick to go.” 
“I was fine this morning.” 
“You almost passed out pouring your cereal.” 
You open your eyes to stare him down, daring him with your whole face to push you. You’re way too exhausted for this. “I’m calling in tomorrow, okay?” 
“You bet you are, trouble.” 
You open your mouth to snipe at him, but Eddie swoops in for a kiss as he finishes with your makeup remover and you sink back into the mattress, nullified.
“What’s next?” he asks sweetly. “That watery shit?” 
“Toner, yeah. Thanks.” 
He makes a sound like you’re welcome, a bit of cheek to it. You decide it’s probably deserved, since you keep disparaging him while he’s doing you a favor. 
Eddie wets your washcloth with toner, passing it over your skin before reaching for your serum. You close your eyes as he brings the dropper just underneath them, like he’s seen you do a million times, and dribbles the glossy liquid onto your skin. He’s quick to chase it with his fingers, murmuring expletives under his breath as some of it drips onto your pillow before he can get it. You laugh, and he pinches your cheek meanly. 
“Stay still, or I’ll get it in your mouth.” 
You quickly smooth your face into expressionlessness, your poker face immaculate, and then Eddie laughs too. You open your eyes at the sound. 
Eddie’s eyes hover above yours, lashes kissing as he grins toothily. A few frizzy curls have escaped the ponytail he’s confined the rest in. They tickle your cheeks when he moves, using his finger to distribute some of the serum onto your chin. 
“You got it all over?” you ask him. Softly, like his proximity requires a hushed tone. 
Eddie's thumb digs into your chin fondly, his smile broadening. You can see his canines. “Yup. You’re all shined up, sweet thing. How long do you leave it for again?” 
“Until it dries.” 
“And how long’s that?” 
You shrug. “Ten, fifteen minutes. It doesn’t have to be all the way dry, just mostly.” 
He nods. You listen to the passing of cars outside, the beginnings of crickets as darkness falls. Eddie starts sweeping his thumb back and forth over your shoulder. 
“You look so fucking pretty,” he says quietly, “even though I know you’re the plague personified right now. How do you do that?” 
Try as you might to tamp it down, you can’t help the smile that spreads across your features. “Every night when you go to sleep,” you tell him, “I take a little bit of your hair and use it to brew a potion in the kitchen. I’m slowly stealing your beauty, bit by bit.” 
“Fucking knew it,” he growls, dipping his head to nip playfully at your neck. 
You yelp and set your hands on his shoulders, warning him breathlessly about getting his hair in your serum. 
“Fine,” he relents. “I know you’re full of shit anyway. You’ve been this killer since the day I met you.” He flashes a grin, canines and all. “And I only get more beautiful with time, so I know you’re not siphoning it off me. Nice try.” 
“You’ve got me there.” You smile back, but it’s a half-hearted effort. 
Eddie makes a low humming sound, thumb once again rubbing your shoulder. “You okay, baby? Your chest still hurting?” 
“No, it’s not as bad.” The words leave you in a thoughtless sigh, and Eddie frowns, bending over to press a chaste kiss to your sternum. The sweet gesture pushes up against the pressure already thick and uncomfortable in the back of your throat. “I’m just really tired,” you admit, and to your mortification the words come out with a teary edge. 
Eddie doesn’t seem to mind, only a flicker of concern passing over his face as his hand moves to cup the side of your head, stroking the baby hairs at your temple. 
“Hey, that’s okay. You can go to sleep, I’ll finish up here. S’just the moisturizer left, right?” You nod, swallowing, and he mirrors you. “I can handle that. Get some shut eye, sweet thing. I’ll take care of you.” 
You let your eyes close, the steady movement of Eddie’s thumb on your temple easing you towards slumber, because you know he will.
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iwanty0uu · 3 months
Text
ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Can I ~Kehlani
ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯ ↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺
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“This shit so good like it should be illegal” you said to yourself after discretely taking a puff out of the pre-rolls connie left for you, feet over the arm of the huge chair that held you inside of the common rooms of your college. Notebooks of all colors displayed messily along the table in front of you, filled with doodles of the brain, and respiratory system. You were trying to prepare yourself for your pre-med exam in two days, but you couldn’t help think about him.. How he made you touch the back-board of his bed like you was a free throw, how he spent so much time with you that you found yourself…“Little Miss Scholar” using all his lingo,how his ex-girlfriend claimed he lied when he told u he was single. The way his hands slid in between your thighs, fitting like a puzzle piece that you never knew was missing. How he always said “a sweet girl like you shouldn’t know how to fuck like this cus you fuck me like a porn star.. u sure that I’m ya only one?” How he intertwined his longer tattooed fingers with your own freshly polished ones, and squeezed tighter as he heard the mumbles of your “friends” asking “how the fuck he know her home-body ass?” How he left you in shambles everytime his tongue grazed against your clit, shutting your mouth with his hand when you got too loud in the dorms.
You felt as if your pen went dry because of your day dreaming, you scribbled on the paper attempting to gain some ink flow, but managed to get lost in your thoughts again..
The thoughts about him making you squirt, leaving the juices on his pretty white tee shirt, the same night he convinced you to make a sex tape cus he strokes himself to the bloopers..How your velvety walls clenched around his pink tip as a reward, almost as if they were saying “you lasted long babe you’re a trooper.” Gripping him, forcing him to cum inside you.. “Don’t pull out my love, make me proud n thug it out” you would whisper in his ear, running butterfly kisses along his temple. How he then massaged your clit, squeezing the fat of your thighs, while pussy drunk, muttering about how you’re a keeper..But not just because of how you fucked him senseless considering you didn’t partake in those activities, but because it was never hard to read him, to understand him. He wasn’t like everyone else, and you realized this when you didn’t automatically dislike him, it makes you feel even more confident in your relationship knowing how he always says “Baby i need ya” and not in sexual ways. He made it known that he cared about you because he changed his ways so you can mold into him, gave you room to grow and de-cluttered himself so you could use him as extra space when you needed it, when you were stressed and the burden was too much. How he always thought of you and made it obvious in everything that he did even when he didn’t realize it.
“Damn…” you thought wrapping up your daydream realizing that an hour more than passed. The suns rays danced through the huge windows, slightly blinding you almost as if it was a punishment for getting yourself distracted. Eyes peering at the still notebooks below you, waiting to be used, basically taking up dust because of your negligence. The red water bottle resting in your lap was snatched up as you took sips, ignoring the obnoxious sound of the doors opening in the comms, but off of instinct, you still looked up and made eye contact with the tall man who stood in front of the sun..As if he became your sun for a second, and as he came closer, you noticed the buzz-cut and relaxed, resting the water bottle on the table, trying to stop the smile that crept onto your face…
“Hey, can I come over? Is it okay if I stop by n see u later?”……….
↺ ᴿᴱᴾᴱᴬᵀ ‖ ᴾᴬᵁˢᴱ ≫ ᴺᴱˣᵀ ˢᴼᴺᴳ
this one if for you pook! i highlighted my fav lyrics🥸 @soulaanshere ~𝓁ℯ𝓁ℯ
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