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arminsumi · 7 months

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I WANT TO KISS YOU / キスしたい

↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader

you and Satoru falling in love despite a language barrier.

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Summary : you've come to visit Japan to meet these two boys you met online. Though Satoru can't speak English and you can't speak Japanese, the two of you still fall in love. Very cute. Very cheesy. Oh no... wait is there a tension between you and his best friend, too? Oh boy...

Warnings : romantic tension with Suguru / potential love triangle, cat scratch

Note : i think of this fic a lot and i found the continuation hiding out in my drafts sooo here 👍

🍒 More from Jay : Gojo works / Gojo fave works / JJK works

Satoru blinks awake to see your face. His heart beats harder.

結局昨日は夢ではなかったのか？ Yesterday was not a dream after all?

He's not an early bird at all, but from the first day of your visit he magically woke up early as if his soul was too excited to sleep when it knew you were right there, in the flesh. No screen. Just you.

When the first day starts, it feels like you've always been together. Was there ever a screen separating the two of you? And were you really going to disappear behind one again in just a month?

今のところ、彼女はここに留まるように感じています。彼女が訪問を終えて出発するとき、私は空港で赤ん坊のように泣くことになると思います。 For now, she feels like she's here to stay. I think I'm going to cry like a baby at the airport when she leaves after her visit.

Morning routines are carried out. The sky is cloudy at first, threatening rain, and by the time you three cluster into the kitchen to make breakfast together, it starts raining.

You and Satoru banter like two cats. Suguru's morning rasp is very strong.

"Satoru... uh... sugar?" you ask, preparing to make yourself a second one and automatically making Satoru another one, since he looks still very bleary-eyed even after spending an hour freshening up in the bathroom.

"...? Yes?" he tilts his head, then you raise the sugar cube jar. "Yes. Uh... four. Thank you."

Suguru's blushing because of the cute tension between you and his best friend. It fills the whole kitchen, which already felt full with their two bodies and a third one now. Everyone keeps bumping elbows and yet not complaining about it, in fact it's enjoyable to be squished together. Maybe because you three waited so long to be together in person, you don't mind it. There's a silent, ever-present comedy in the air about the tight proximity.

You hum happily, tossing in one, two, three... four? That's a lot of sugar. "Suguru, tell Satoru he mustn't have so much sugar all the time. It's not good for his health."

Suguru laughs. "I try to tell him that every day. But his sweet tooth is incurable."

"His dentist must hate him." you smirk at Satoru, who's been looking at you blushingly after hearing his name mentioned.

彼女の声が今では一番好きな音だと思います。 I think her voice is my favorite sound now.

もう一度私の名前を言ってください。 Please say my name again.

"Satoru? Coffee?" you interrupt his lovey-dovey thoughts and he suddenly reanimates himself, because for a moment there he zoned out and just stared at you with those pretty eyes.

"Mmm... thanks." he takes the coffee from you with a noticeable timidness that you can't quite explain. There's a lot about him that's indescribable, you're having a small internal crisis; aren't you supposed to be fluent in English? And yet you can't even begin to describe just how sweet and gentle Satoru behaves. The most you can do is use metaphors that barely justify him.

"Suguru, tell her... her voice is nice, and also sorry for cuddling you in my sleep (and that she can definitely kick me away at night if it bothers her.) Also!" (the three of you head into the living room, and Suguru habitually trips over the cat who stalks under his feet too quietly to notice) "Also tell her... if it rains today, does she still want to go out? Because if we go out in the rain, she might get sick. And I don't want her to get sick on her trip. Not that I'd mind taking care of you, Y/n, of course."

Suguru lets out a long sigh and pulls a funny face. You smile amusedly.

"...It's too early to be a translator..." he grumbles in English after Satoru overloads him.

"What? C'mon tell her everything I said!"

"Let me have my coffee first. How about the two of you write to each other?" he suggests, putting the rim of the cup to his lips and sipping languidly.

"Eh, fine." Satoru pouts, and stalks off into his bedroom to get his phone.

Then, when he's in his bedroom, his chest flutters for some reason when he sees your suitcase standing there opened and emptied into the free cupboard space. He takes his phone, smiles at the homely feeling of seeing your belongings in his room, and leaves.

"Oh..." he has a sudden idea, and remembers the magnetic drawing board that's hanging in the kitchen. He and Suguru usually use it for writing reminders to each other, like get milk or you're an idiot or sometimes it has doodles of Mint the cat with sunglasses on.

So he returns to you with this magnetic drawing board, and points at it meaningfully, then holds one finger up and bows his head as he begins writing very slowly.

Suguru's checking the weather forecast and muttering sour complaints under his breath to you. "Of course it would rain for three days just when you arrive... at least by the weekend it will be clear and sunny..."

"Mmm... it's alright. A little rain never hurt nobody." you respond.

"I like your optimism." Suguru compliments flippantly at first, but then continues; "It's really uplifting. I think Satoru said something about you being a joy once, he said it really poetically but I can't recall it now."

"Aw..." you dip your head beneath your coffee cup, hiding the bashful expression on your face, which Suguru chuckles at.

And then, for a long moment, you just stare and watch Satoru writing on the board. You're completely captured in this moment, completely captivated in his enveloping presence as he sits next to you. He has slow, meticulous wrist movements. His knees press together, like he's worried that he'll invade your personal space if he sits too comfortably close to you. Funny, considering he cuddled you all night and you had no complaints about it.

He's writing very simply and neatly, just like how he texts you. You're a bit baffled by the characters he's using, though he's trying his best to avoid using any kanji knowing that you don't know a lot of it. He's sure you can figure things out by slowly pronouncing each hiragana character, or at least he hopes.

"Here." he hands you the magnetic drawing board, and then raises from the couch to go feed the cat.

"Minto-Minto... " he calls after the cat and makes a small cute sound to lure her out.

You're trying to read each hiragana character, eyes squinting a bit.

Suguru leans in close to you. He just takes a look, but the proximity for some reason gives both of you butterflies.

"Ooh... that's cute." Suguru comments after reading what Satoru wrote. His voice reaches deep in your tummy.

"Hm... I'll spell it out and... figure it out... anyways, why did you name your cat Mint?"

"Oh... well. There's two reasons. So the first..." he sets down his coffee, like he's about to tell you a great story, "Is because Satoru watched this show called Tokyo Mew Mew growing up, and he liked the character Minto. So he calls her Minto. And then I agreed on calling her that, but I call her Mint, because I hate mint the herb."

"You — haha, wait what? You call her Mint because you hate mint?"

"Yes. I hate mint, both the herb and the cat. She hates me too, clearly." Suguru raises his hand to remind you of how the cat scratched him the night before.

"Such a cute Hello Kitty sticker..." you tease.

"Thank you. Only the manliest men wear Hello Kitty Bandaids."

"How did she scratch you anyways...?"

"Oh, she likes to hang out in the washing machine if Satoru accidentally leaves it open. And when I try take her out of her comfy spot, she scratches me."

You sympathize, "Poor thing."

"What, the cat or me?" Suguru laughs.

"The cat." you lie teasingly.

"Wow! And here I thought you were being sympathetic!" he raises his brows.

You giggle and look at him, eyes finally making contact — ooh no that's bad bad bad, better break it immediately. So the two of you look away like you've both just indulged in a taboo intimacy. His stomach flips.

"Minto has been fed. She gave me cuddles." Satoru comes back into the room, and you admire the feeling he brings with him.

"No scratches?" Suguru asks.

"No, obviously, she loves me more than you." Satoru cheeks.

"Fuck you, haha."

Satoru makes his voice lower and leans to Suguru, "(Did she figure out what I wrote yet?)"

"Y/n did you figure out what he wrote?" Suguru asks.

"I'm trying so hard. What does this part mean...?"

Suguru shakes his head and puts his hands up. "Like I said, I'm not Mr Translator in the mornings."

"But you've had your coffee! Please, just this part..." you beg, and he can't deny that sweet begging. He easily folds for it, just like when Satoru begs for anything.

"Okay, where — this? Uh... Satoru your handwriting isn't usually this neat, is it...? That part means... 'voice'."

"Oh... ohhh!" you suddenly realize, and then the boys swoon over you when you pronounce the characters out loud to yourself.

"Uh... I think I know what it means..." you feel your cheeks warm up from the crown to your jawline.

あなたのこえがすき。 a-na-ta-no-ko-e-ga-su-ki.

"I like your voice, too." you respond to Satoru, and he half-gets it and gives you a thumbs up.

"Thanks."

You look at each other and then promptly look away with shy smiles.

"You two are cute." Suguru comments.

"Ahah... ahah shut up... hey, the sky has cleared up." you point out.

"Ooh... it cleared up 'cuz Satoru walked back into the room."

You awe at what he said.

"?"

"Nothing."

"Hey, Translator — (stop talking about me behind my back!)"

Suguru chuckles, "I wasn't! I was just — never mind. Let's get ready to head out."

And so you head into Satoru's bedroom to get ready, and Suguru heads into his bedroom, and Satoru himself goes into the cramped bathroom. Poor boy. He's really too tall for that archway, he bumped his head again.

彼女に花を買ってあげるべきでしょうか？それともちょっと多すぎますか？ Should I buy her flowers? Or is it a bit too much?

（なんてことだ）、なぜこのシャツには穴が開いているのでしょう？ (Oh my god), why does this shirt have holes?

The door slides open, he steps out of the bathroom half-dressed, and intends to quickly slip into Suguru's bedroom to borrow a shirt instead of awkwardly knocking on his bedroom door and disturbing you.

But oh, you know what? The cheesiest possible thing happens instead. The universe likes making Satoru's life a little more fun in odd times. So the two of you encounter each other in the hallway; you're fully clothed and he's got just pants and socks on.

He stutters once, swallows awkwardly, and even more awkwardly places his hand on your head as if to say sorry for this inconvenience.

But you laugh in response to the funny situation.

ああ、またあの美しい笑い声。 Ah, that beautiful laugh again.

"Sorry." he mutters, and disappears to go get a shirt from Suguru.

"It's okay." you reply.

The image of your pretty smile is burned in his head.

You can hear him telling Suguru something in the other room, and then you hear Suguru's muffled laugh as a response.

"(Don't laugh! I'm embarrassed! She's seen me shirtless now! No one's seen me shirtless except you!)"

"(You're such a virgin.)"

"(Say that again, I dare you.)"

"(Sorry, I don't understand you. I don't speak virgin, only English and Japanese.)"

You're wondering why Satoru sounds so embarrassed and annoyed, and then he groans down the hallway. It feels like you're their roommate, it's funny.

"Hi."

The two of you encounter each other in the hall again. This time he has a shirt, yes. And this time Suguru is there, too, and he's holding back an amused smile. He fluffs Satoru's hair as a way of embarrassing him more.

So Satoru leaves, and he leaves in such a way that it's super comedic, making you and Suguru laugh. Ooh, what a laugh that boy has; his Addam's apple shifts up and down deliciously.

"Ah... Suguru? I need help with the washing machine..."

"Yes...?"

"...this kid on the plane who sat next to me, he spilled strawberry juice all over my shirt and now it's sticky."

"But at least it smells like strawberries, right?" he jokes. "You can put it in the washing machine, I'll be doing the laundry in a second anyways..." there is a small moment of eye contact shared, then Suguru looks down, and frowns at something he sees, "(SATORU YOU LEFT YOUR SOCK ON THE FLOOR AGAIN!)"

"(Haha, sorry.)" you hear Satoru half-heartedly apologize from the other room.

So Suguru picks up the sock like an annoyed mother and goes to lecture Satoru.

"(You're embarrassing me in front of our guest. For the love of god, don't leave your goofy ass socks on the floor. What if she slips on them?)"

"(You're such a mother, Suguru.)"

You're calmly and casually going to put your juice-stained shirt in the washing machine like Suguru said, but then...

(the boys are talking and there's just this hilariously dramatic scream from the laundry room)

"DID THE CAT SCRATCH YOU?"

"(Did the cat scratch her?)"

"Ow, y-yeah!" you whine.

Suguru's the first one at the crime scene, and he picks up the cat and proceeds to lecture the cat as if it understands Japanese. It licks its lips and nubby nose and has an evil stare. You giggle.

"I'm so sorry... come, uh — (Suguru, we still have Hello Kitty adhesives somewhere, right?)" Satoru instinctually holds your hand that got scratched.

And he holds it so tenderly and caringly that it makes your whole chest quake for him.

彼女の手の傷はとても小さなものですが、それでも私は心臓がチクチクするのを感じました。 Although the wound on her hand was very small, I still felt my heart tingle.

He leads you to his bedroom, picking up some adhesives and antiseptic on the way, and sits with you on the unmade beds. You watch his fingers nimbly peeling the plastic off the adhesive, admiring how swiftly and perfectly he does even the littlest things. He has such a great attention to detail, it makes you self-conscious; is he thinking of you with the same attention to detail as everything else? Yes... he is.

He dabs some antiseptic on your small scratch, and then gently wraps and pats the Hello Kitty adhesive around it. You're pretty sure he's the one who bought them. Oh, if only you could ask him, but where even is your phone? Lost in a void somewhere, probably.

"Thank you, Satoru."

His eyes light up. His heart thumps. Why did those small, simple words have such a great effect on him?

"Mhm." he hums in acknowledgement. "You're welcome."

あなたの傷がもっと良くなるようにキスしたいです。 I want to kiss your wounds to make them better.

A second after thinking this and looking at your hand, he brings it to his lips and presses a very delicate kiss to the edge of your wrist, where the small cut spanned up to the base of your palm. Can you even call it a kiss? It's more like his lips graze your skin, hovering timidly.

And for some reason... the atmosphere becomes very intimate. Is it because of the place where he kissed you? The inner wrist has never occurred to you to be an intimate spot, and yet you're feeling as if he just kissed you on the lips.

You hear him audibly swallow, like he's conscious of this, too. The both of you become very aware of the tension in the atmosphere.

And then he looks apologetic, as if he overstepped a boundary. So you mutter a small, whispery "thanks..." which lifts his heart up into his throat and reassures him that you don't mind the intimacy.

"Mmm..." he blinks at you, pursing his lips.

His eyes linger on your lips for a moment, and it feels like he's about to... well you know his body just wants to... he sort of...

"Hey, how's the wounded patient?" Suguru interrupts, and you and Satoru spring apart like you're elastic bands that just got released after being stretched.

"Ahah, I'm okay. It's not a bad scratch." you lift your hand, "I'll cherish this Hello Kitty Bandaid forever, thank you."

"Yeah, Satoru bought 'em so you can thank him."

"I knewww he bought them, haha! So expected... cutiepie." you admire Satoru, and he's pretty sure that the last thing you said is some cute nickname, so he smirks.

"Okay, well... anyways, let's head out before the sun rises too high and it gets too hot to walk."

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

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tinyluvs · 8 months

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i have this vision for Spencer smut where he makes reader squirt for the first time and reader is absolutely flabbergasted because she didn’t know she could do that and Spencer is also flabbergasted because he didn’t know she could do that 💀

you see the vision?? idk but if you end up doing this i love you

i see the vision pookie i gotchu 😌 enjoy ! *mdni!!*

spencer kisses the inside of your thigh when you come the first time, lips wet with your slick, dragging over the inside of your leg while you whimper

the second time you come he rests his forehead on your stomach, nipping gently over your hips, his free hand holding your body down as it arches off of the bed, your fingers tugging on his hair

he swallows your moans the third time, kissing you softly when your thighs tremble either side of his hips, "so good for me," he pauses to mumble against your kiss swollen lips

it's been hours, you're sure of it, hours of him gently kissing every inch of your skin while he entices whimpers and whines from you with his fingers

"spence," you pant, voice barely above a whisper. he hovers over you, taking in the way your eyelashes are wet from tears that have slipped down your cheeks. he hums before dipping to kiss your cheeks

slowly he slips his fingers from your body, which causes you to whimper so he shushes you quietly, moving to drag his knuckles up and down your folds, missing your sensitive clit every time

your fingers dig into his forearm, nails biting into his skin though he doesn't even flinch over it, "one more, sweetheart," he whispers against your jaw, his stubble starting burn gently over your soft skin

"i don't think i can," you gasp, your voice getting higher when he starts to rub soft, light circles over your clit. your hand shoots down his arm, your fingers wrapping around his wrist, "i can't,"

spencer hums, "you can angel, one more, i promise," he drags his teeth over your collarbone, smiling when you tip your head back, just like he wanted you to, "yeah?" he asks while nipping at your neck

he pauses his movements, waiting for you to reply. his eyes flicker over your face, a moment of seriousness passing between you as he tells you if you need to tap out, you can, without saying a single word

the moment ends when you reply, a soft, "yeah," tumbling from your lips while you tug on his wrist, moving his fingers back to your puffy pussy

you're still soaked, drips of slick coating your cunt, the inside of your thighs and your boyfriend's hand. he teases his fingers at your entrance, barely pressing them into you before pulling away

"please," you whine, looking up at him, your knees bumping against his ribs in a desperate effort to get him to do something, anything, "spencer,"

"i know, i know," he says softly, his eyes trailing down your body and between your legs as he pushes his fingers into you, the stretch somehow still burning slightly, "breathe," he says, pausing again when you clench around him

he breathes deeply, knowing you'll mimic his actions, like you always do before raising an eyebrow at you, a silent question, "i'm okay," you reassure, "move, please,"

spencer dips one last time, kissing you hard as he starts to move. your cunt makes a wet, sticky sound as he slides his fingers in, curling immediately to press against a spot that has your hips rolling

"oh god," you cry out, your voice sounding a little raw. the ball of heat in your stomach hasn't left from your last orgasm, you're sure spencer would just have to look at you right and you could come

he starts to speed up, moaning softly to himself when your pussy starts to squelch, strings of your slick connecting his fingers together, "so pretty,"

his teeth sink into his bottom lip, eyebrows furrowing as he pushes deep into you, the tips of his fingers hitting exactly where you need him, "th- fuck, there, stay there,” you babble, brain turning to mush

spencer doubles down, curling and dragging his fingers with earnest, revelling in the way his motions pull a string of pretty sounds from you, a mix of moans, whines and whimpers because words are failing you

the burn in your stomach grows but it feels different, a pressure inside of you that you've never felt before though it feels far too good for you to care

"doing so good," spencer leans over you, his free hand tickling over your hips, thumb rubbing deep circles into you skin. you clench around him, a silent sob trapping in your throat, "so good,"

tears stream down your cheeks, soaking the pillow underneath your head as fire spreads through your body, leaving your nerves tingling. spencer pulls his fingers from you but before you can make a sound he's sliding them straight back in at a slightly different angle

"please," is all you can manage as the air gets punched from your lungs when he returns to that spot, pressing and rubbing hard over it, knowing how close you are to your orgasm

your boyfriend watches your stomach tensing, your tits rising and falling with your chest and he feels your knees trembling at his sides, your cunt closing in around his fingers

"uh huh, come on pretty girl," he starts, fully aware at what his words do to you, "so close for me," he pauses when you interrupt with a high pitched whine, "i know," he finishes, moving his hand to brush his fingers over your clit

the harshness against your sensitive clit sends you over the edge, your back arches away from the mattress, somehow pushing spencers fingers into you even further and you're done for

your cunt floods, wetness gushing from you and soaking everything around you. the stream doesn't let up, a puddle forming underneath your ass, "don't stop," you sob

spencer moans, loudly, gritting his teeth as he continues his attack on your cunt, his eyes trained as he quickens his pace, a man starved and it pays off when your breathe in deep, holding it between puffed out cheeks as your entire body stiffens

his thumb flicks against your clit and you're sure you black out, thighs practically vibrating from the intensity as you soak the sheets further for a second time

"oh my god, angel," you barely hear spencer over the pounding in your ears. his fingers slip from your body again and he moves, allowing your thighs to press together, "i didn't know you could do that,"

"neither did i," you pant, struggling to breathe as he hovers over you, wet fingers stroking underneath your tit. minutes pass before you're bought back down to earth and only then do you see the mess you've created, “oh god,”

spencer chuckles lightly at your reaction though his eyes are wide and his jaw hangs open slightly as he also takes in the mess

your boyfriend is soaked, his hand and arm have droplets running down his skin, the thighs of his pyjama bottoms and a portion of his shirt darker than the rest. the puddle underneath you soaks into the sheets, leaving them stuck to your already damp skin

"no more," you slur slowly, looking at spencer with wet eyes. he smiles at you, using his dry hand to stroke through your hair

"no more," he repeats, "not now, anyway"

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily !! send prompts to my ask box!

❥ spencer reid masterlist !!

a/n as always, proofread badly so feel free to lemme know if there’s any mistakes :) x

#❥ my works #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #❥ spencer reid #❥ spencer reid fic rec #❥ my spencer works #❥ spencer reid drabbles

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webslingingslasher · 11 months

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Hi can I ask for a blurb where Peter accidently hits the reader while playing or something like he sometimes forgets about his super strength but fluff at the end please 🥺.

this got away from me but this was so fun and cute to write!

“I kinda want a black eye.”

Your boyfriend slowly lowered the bag of peas on his left eye, his elbow dropped daringly, forcing you to look at the dark purple hue.

“Oh, really?”

You nod, “it looks gnarly but it’d be cool to have one.”

“Baby, my heartbeat is currently taking place from my eyeball. You don’t want one.”

Stretching across the space on the couch you raise Peter’s hand back up so he can ice the bruise some more, it does look painful.

“I think if you loved me you’d give me one.”

Peter took a second to see if that sentence would resonate with you but it hadn’t.

“We should go to the women's shelter and spread that knowledge.”

You scoff, “they weren't asking for it, Peter. I am.”

Your boyfriend lowered his temporary ice pack and reached a hand out, his thumb rubbed under your eye, you almost thought he was thinking about it. Almost.

“I’d never. I would, however, patch you up if you ever got one.”

“Do you have a friend that could-”

“No.”

—------------------------------------

Oh FUCK did your eye HURT.

It was on a level ten throb level, it felt like a ring stretching to your eyebrow and nose. You couldn’t even open it, all you could do was press your hand to it and try and stop the pressure from building, it didn’t work.

You were able to blink it open just enough to be blinded by the living room light, you’ve never been so light sensitive. Squeezing it shut you winced, you tried to be understanding and calm; it was an accident after all. But the pain was spreading all over your face and you had a target right on the corner of your right eye, and it hurt.

If your right eye could open it’d be shedding tears too, you had one continuance stream coming from your left eye.

Your voice bubbles with pain, “petey, it hurts.”

Your boyfriend couldn’t even breathe right now, he had hurt you. The one thing he swore he would never, could never do, and he did it. Panic flooded his body, panicked he’s caused serious damage, panicked you’d be scared of him, panicked you’d dump him, panicked your dad would come curbstomp him.

“It hurts so bad,” he knows you’re calling out for him, he knows you need him, but all he could replay was the ‘whack!’ in his head. It wasn’t gentle in the slightest, you whipped away from him with a hiss, your hand immediately covering your eye. You had been okay at first but after a minute had passed it became nearly unbearable.

Peter knows how bad a black eye hurts, and he just gave you one.

His short, barely there breaths start to stutter.

And suddenly Peter couldn’t see because his vision was muddled by tears, he tried to blink them back but they ran. He can’t remember the last time he’s cried, but this brought him to his knees. He never wanted to punish himself more than in that second. He should’ve been quicker, he should’ve known you were behind him, he has those goddamn senses and they did nothing in that moment.

“Peter!” A desperate cry for attention, you don’t know what to do, it hurts more than you could imagine.

You look up at your boyfriend still standing in shock where he jumped away from you after hitting you directly in your eye. A wrestling battle, you had tried to take him down after he’d pinned you three times. In an effort of a sneak attack you crawled up the couch and tried to jump on his back where he sat on the floor. You dived and at the last moment his hand… well you don’t know what he was trying to do but it connected hard to your cheekbone.

Your back hit the couch and you held your hand as you hissed and groaned in hurt, Peter scrambled up and backed up behind the coffee table, as if he was scared to be around you.

He’s crying, your boyfriend’s crying. You’ve been punched and he’s crying.

“I’m.. I’m sorr.. Fuck.” Peter snaps out of it, you need him. He crosses to the couch in two steps, his hand cupping your cheek. It makes everything in him deflate when you flinch as he touches you, he bites his bottom lip to stop a sob. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

His heart hurts as you cry, his thumb taps at your hand covering the damaged eye. The one he caused.

“Let me see it, please?” Peter said it like a question, like he’d ever be lucky enough to have that privilege.

You sob, “it hurts.”

Peter blinks, more tears. He can’t believe he’s crying over this, he also can’t believe he hit his fucking girlfriend.

“I know, I know it does, baby. Please let me see it.”

You choke in air to stop your crying, it works. You slowly lift your hand off your eye, it’s not throbbing as much but the pressure has inflated tenfold and you couldn’t open it if you tried, it was swollen shut. You tried to gauge a reaction out of him, to see how bad it is. You forgot your boyfriend had the world’s best poker face.

Peter wanted to curl up into a ball when he saw the damage.

It was bruising, and swollen and you couldn’t open your eye and it was all his fault.

His fault, his fault, his fault.

If he was normal, if he was a normal boyfriend, this wouldn’t have happened. A normal teenager doesn’t have the strength to hold a ferry or stop a runaway bus, he does. And he used that strength on you.

His powers, his abilities, his strength.

His fault, his fault, his fault.

“You need ice.” Is all that could come out. A wince wraps over your face when you nod, you try to sit up and groan. “Everything hurts. How do you do this? Pain has to affect you differently, right?” Peter ignored you as he backed away, you don’t think he’s ever been so aware of his surroundings and actions.

He shouldn’t be getting ice, he shouldn’t be putting it in a plastic bag and wrapping a rag around it, he shouldn’t be grabbing you tylenol extra strength, he shouldn’t be icing your black eye he caused.

His fault, his fault, his fault.

It scared you how quiet he was, the accidental punch was just that. You weren’t upset at him or scared he would do it again, you were scared how odd he was acting. He was strangely quiet and standoffish, when he came back to you with ice and pills you watched him think about holding the bag to your eye but stopped and put it in your hand.

He shifted his weight and looked at the couch, he stepped back and sat on the coffee table.

Peter cried and was quiet and standoffish and scared to touch you. He was terrified of himself, you may be physically hurt but he was emotionally broken, his one major thing washed down the drain. Accident or not he gave you a black eye, and it was tearing him up inside.

You hummed when ice hit the hot skin, suddenly it didn’t hurt.

“Am I right, super high pain tolerance?”

It’s like you broke through a wall, Peter looked up at you like he just found out you were in the room.

“I hit you.”

You would’ve rolled your eyes if you could’ve.

“That’s a little dramatic.”

Peter shook his head, upset you weren’t upset.

“I hit you hard, I hurt you. I…” His hand pulled at his curls so hard you grit your teeth. “I fucking hit you,” he whispered it, like his own mind couldn’t wrap it around.

He doesn’t pull out the fuck word often.

You thought about reaching out for his hand, but you think that’d made things worse.

“I’m not scared of you, petey. It was an accident.”

“I swore i’d never hurt you, that I would never hit you and I didn’t-”

“Mean it.” You cut him off, “you didn’t mean it.”

Peter rubbed at his jaw and blinked, you saw tears puddling and you wanted to do nothing more than hold him. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, you lowered the bag of ice from your eye prepared to switch seats. He wouldn’t let you.

“Ice.” Cold and hard, like you had no other option. You didn’t question him, you followed instructions.

“Remember when you asked me to give you a black eye months ago?”

It was a joke. Sure, you saw a tiktok with a girl who had one and you couldn’t deny it looked a little cool. Then seeing one on Peter the same night you couldn’t shake it. You were just playing around, it’s not like it was that serious.

“I was joki-”

“I told you I'd never, and I did. I hit my girlfriend and gave her a black eye.”

Disgust. That’s what it was. He was disgusted with himself.

You sat up straight, your lip curled up.

A black eye? Sick.

“Wait, really?”

Peter looked up at your excitement, it came from nowhere.

“You gave me a black eye? I have a black eye right now? For real, for real?”

This wasn’t a cute or funny thing, and he won’t let you make it be one.

He hit you.

“This isn’t funny, I hit you and you’re happy you got a black eye?”

“Pete, I forgive you. And not just cause you gave me a black eye, because it was an accident and you didn’t mean to and you’re obviously extremely remorseful.”

“But I-”

You reached out for his hand, “forgive yourself. You forgive yourself.”

It wouldn’t be instant, until your eye healed, which would be at a much slower rate than him, he wouldn’t be able to fully forgive himself.

“No more wrestling.”

You scoff, “no more sneak attacks, how about that?”

He shook his head, “I don’t want this happening again.”

“If the situation was reversed would you want me to hold it against myself?”

Peter scoffed, “absolutely not, but it wouldn’t hurt me like it does you.”

“So you do have a super high pain tolerance.”

He snapped and ripped his hand from yours, “yes, I do have a super high pain tolerance. I also have super strength and give my girlfriend black eyes.”

You held your hand up, the other one slightly freezing from the cold but you were too scared to take it off.

“First off, plural. Second, please stop. You’re making me feel bad, I’m really okay and I’m not mad and I forgive you a thousand million percent.”

Peter inhaled sharply, he has to believe you. He’s more shook up than you are and he guesses he should agree with you, you were the hurt one. If you forgive him he could try and do the same.

“I think you need to give me a black eye to even it out.”

You gasp like your offended at his words, your hand lays over your heart.

“I’d never!”

Your boyfriend ran his tongue over his teeth and gave you a dead stare, his hands pushed him off the coffee table. His words grumbled, “toxic.”

#peter parker x reader #tasm! peter parker x reader #peter parker blurb #peter parker angst #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker fluff #my writing

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rootbeerworshiper · 1 month

Text

Secure

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

summery: an argument with your boyfriend leaves you more insecure than ever, his words ringing in your head until he finds a way to make it up to you.

warnings: angst, hint of fluff not rlly, fem!receiving, so much praise, some use of pet names, slight overstimulation, fingering……yeah!

@nicksmainbitch hopefully you enjoy i tried my best to do your request justice

a/n: this is so short i’m so sorry im working on so many series rn but i wanted to get a oneshot out feel free to hate me

love, sienna <3

“maybe you’re just too insecure to be in a relationship” Chris yells, releasing every ounce of anger he stored away with one simple sentence.

you feel frozen, feet planted heavily in the ground although you’re knees could give out at any moment. this conversation was not supposed to be happening, not here.

not when Chris was supposed to go film a video and especially not when you had a major final coming up—the stress of both things clearly manifesting it’s way into your relationship.

the fluorescent lighting of the boys room sends rays over your whole body, ironically making you feel like a spotlight is shining at you, egging you on to say something in reply—but you can’t.

your body reacts to his words before your brain does, a quivering lip and eyes full of tears that want nothing more than to pour out.

is this really how he saw you? some insecure fragile girl who’s not ready for a relationship?

maybe he’s not entirely wrong about the fragile part, because all you can do is cry, and as pathetic as it may be, it’s the only thing you have the strength for.

you and Chris have been fighting for the past few weeks, it started off as small snarky responses but developed into arguments that left an echo on practically the whole neighbourhood.

subconsciously, you hug yourself, wrapping your shaking hands around your waist to seek some comfort, even if your boyfriend is standing directly across from you.

for a second, you see a glimpse of pity in his eyes, something in his brain telling him for a split second telling him he’s in the wrong, but before he can walk over to replace your hands with his own you snap.

“do you think i’m stupid or something? is that what you genuinely think of me?” you attempt to raise the volume behind your voice but instead it comes out more croaky, more weak.

Chris starts defending himself, as he does far too often. “of course not y/n i just-“

“rachel. you’d rather spend time with fucking rachel than your own girlfriend.”

he’s silent, taking his own turn being dead frozen.

“maybe i am insecure, Chris, but at least im respectful enough to not cancel on my long term girlfriend for some girl i just met on fucking instagram” your sadness is replaced with anger when you lay everything out.

“you know, i had just finished fucking pouring my heart out into my journal about how you’re the one for me, about how i saw a forever with you, and then” you let out a petty laugh. “and then i go on instagram to see my boyfriend, Chris Sturniolo at boa steakhouse with some instagram influencer”

“she’s just a-“ he starts, ultimately getting cut off by your own anger yet again.

“do you know how embarrassing that is for me? going with with some friend to a fucking fancy steakhouse, the steakhouse you took us on our first date to?”

It really is insane when you lay it out like this, even when part of you felt like you were in the wrong, his wrongs outweighed any insecurities you had.

you let out a sigh, seemingly signalling the end to your anger because he begins speaking again. “i know what it looks like, i do. but it’s not like that and i don’t know how else to explain that to you, i think you just need to grow up and understand that i can have girl friends while you’re my girlfriend”

nope. no fucking way.

“i think you need to grow up and realize that you’re dumbass just lost any chance you had at saving this relationship, have fun with rachel” you turn away immediately, slamming his door behind yourself before he can’t even chase you down.

the walk up is uncomfortable, both of Chris brothers splayed out on the living room couch, ready to begin filming a funny car video while you’re walking up the stairs with a red, tear covered face.

they both look to you with sadness, and seemingly an understanding of your position, but their mouths remain closed as you quickly put your shoes on and walk out the door.

————————————————————————

it’s been a week.

you wish you could say you were doing amazing, ridding yourself of a toxic boyfriend and focusing on your own mental health but that was… far from the truth.

but instead you’re crying while watching 10 things i hate about you and eating ramen—not exactly the best way to show you’re the bigger person.

it’s pathetic. scrolling on instagram to constantly check what Chris is doing while you simultaneously have unfollowed him.

relationships are not easy, but deep down you know you’re in the right, you just wanted Chris back… before he met another girl.

you don’t know what made his priorities change. maybe that’s what hurt you the most.

what is it that made you unlovable, what is it that rachel did better than you.

no. you know this isn’t about some girl named rachel, you know this all stems from yourself.

the constant comparisons you made to any girl you deemed better than you, the way it never failed to make you feel terrible about the cards you were dealt.

it was hard enough to except the fact that Chris liked you to begin with, and on one of your many late night walks you had told him that, told him that sometimes you’re lack of self confidence can get the best of you.

and for majority of your relationship he was supportive of that, supportive of you.

so once again, what changed? was it him or was it you?

you let out a heavy sigh, stirring your noodles and lifting the fork to your face when you hear a knock on the door.

it takes a second for you to even comprehend the noise, racking your brain trying to figure out what you had ordered online when you were up till two am sobbing.

either way you need to answer, so you make the embarrassing walk to the door while still wrapped in your fuzzy blanket m, as it replaces an embrace you miss.

you make it down the stairs, expecting a package to be delivered at your doorstep, instead you see him.

he’s stood there, a journal in his hand and an insane look of sorry overtaking his blue irises.

“hi” he says simply, moments before you go to slam the door in his face, his hand being the only thing stopping it from latching onto the hinges. “wait, please” he’s fighting back tears of his own, not that you feel bad for him in the slightest.

“what do you want Chris? i have a romantic comedy to attend to since my life kinda lacks one right now” you say with an ounce of pettiness escaping your teeth.

“y/n please” he squeezes the book in his hand, clutching to it like his life depends on it. “can i come in?”

part of you wants to say no, most of you wants to say no, but he’s Chris, your Chris, and you hate seeing him sad regardless of how much he deserves it. “fine make it quick” you mumble, opening the door fully and walking over to plop yourself on the couch, the boy awkwardly following behind you, as if he is literally walking on eggshells.

he sits beside you, not getting to comfortable as your unwelcoming demeanour leaves him anxious next to you. “i uh” he coughs, sniffling his noise and shaking his mess of hair to the side. “i don’t want you to ever think i’d choose someone else over you, ever. because i couldn’t, i-“ he sighs, as you sit there at stare at him, unsure of how to feel. “i can’t imagine being with anyone else because i see a forever with you”

“did you tell this to rachel too?” your mouth speaks before your conscience can stop yourself.

“no obviously not i mean, i don’t even know what i was doing with her, it was dumb and i don’t even have an excuse for it but i never” he breathes. “i never wanted anything with her, it’s always gonna be you”

it’s silent for a second, you processing his words and him praying mentally you’ll give him another chance. “what’s with the book?” you ask, slightly less anger backing your tone as you gesture to the journal placed in his lap.

“are you gonna promise to not make fun of me?” he says, an innocent look plastered on his face, god you missed his face.

“i can’t promise anything but ill try” you say, smiling out of the fake frown you displayed for him.

he scratches his head. “Matt kinda told me to start journaling a while ago and i thought it was stupid but then when i met you i kinda had too many thoughts to keep in my brain and-“

you place a gentle hand on his bouncing knee. “take your time Chris it’s okay”

he could cry at the contact but he continues speaking, slower this time as per your request. “i needed to write down the overwhelming thoughts i was having about you because im so in love with you i can’t keep it to myself” he sighs. “but i want you to have this because it shows how perfect you are. i never want you to feel lesser than anyone else because to me you’re everything, and im sorry i lost track of that”

you could cry at his gesture alone but instead you lean in, closing the space between the two of you and returning to a pair of lips you’ve been craving for the past week.

he kisses back hesitantly, caught off guard by your sudden act of affection.

the rhythm at which your lips move has you in a trance, beginning as an innocent kiss and immediately becoming more passionate when your tongue explores his mouth, your teeth biting gently on his bottom lip as you pull off. “i missed you”

he smiles, the same dorky smile you missed creating on his lips. “can i make it up to you?” he asks, leaving you confused.

“you already did make it up to me” you say, his head dipping down to your neck before you get a chance to keep speaking, a soft whimper leaving your mouth instead. “oh”

he’s comfortable on your neck, his hands immediately taking the blanket off of your shoulders as he moves himself to hover of you, his knees digging into the rug on the floor. “wanna really make it up to you”

it’s hard for you to speak, his hands cupping your clothed chest giving them a light squeeze before you can say another word, his lips now placed softly on your own.

for a while you’re comfortable like this, but you need more—and by the way you squeeze your thighs together on the cushion, Chris can tell.

his fingers go to lift your sweater off, immediately exposing you to him. “you’re so beautiful” he mumbles, his mouth nod focusing on your nipples as you arch your back into the couch—his tongue swirling your bud and his hands rubs soft lines on your legs.

“missed you so much baby” he’s says quietly, his mouth now placing teasing kisses on your exposed stomach, causing you to inhale at the soft sensation.

his hands now tug at your sweats, a familiar set of eyes looking up at you to ask for permission, all you can mutter out is a quick. “please”

“yeah? you miss my mouth?” he says, causing you to roll your eyes before his hands pull down your sweats and your underwear at the same time, one swift motion leaving you on display for the boy below you.

he kisses your thighs while hands hands work to remove the fabric off of your ankles and it’s safe to say you’re getting impatient, your legs spreading above him the moment the fabric is done restricting you.

“aren’t you just needy” he chuckles, his hands traveling up your sides to make contact with your chest once more. “can i take my time?”

you nod, fighting back a moan as you feel his hot breath over your folds, teasing his entrance.

but instead of giving you what you’re practically begging for he take his hands and props your legs on the couch. “god i haven’t been able to stop thinking about this”

“then get to it” you joke, only receiving a delicate kiss to your inner thigh as a response.

your own hands immediately make their way to his hair, pushing away the strands that cover his face so you can see more of him.

he makes eye contact with you, kissing everywhere on your lower half expect where you’re aching for him. “chris i need-“

there it is.

he kisses your clit, eyes making contact with your own that you could melt under, his innocent gaze as he makes you feel everything but innocent.

it’s unfortunate how much he loves teasing you, especially with make up sex, because his tongue has yet to make contact with you.

“so prefect, just for me” he continues mumbling praises as his hands roam your body.

before you can argue you’re cut off by the contact you were craving, his tongue immediately encapsulating your clit into his mouth and twirling it in slow, sensual circles.

your knees threaten to cave in at the contact but his hands are quick to push them back out as he leaves open mouthed kisses on yourself as you squirm above him.

soon enough the muscle finds a rhythm to follow, flicking up and down at a more intense pace than before. “fuck Chris, so good” you moan out.

your eyes shut almost immediately, the feeling of his warm tongue causing an embarrassingly fast build up in your stomach. “mmm just like that”

you can feel his smile below you, but his tongue doesn’t let up, instead, he places a familiar finger in your soaked centre.

instinctively you arch into him, your body chasing the pleasure that is consistently building throughout your body.

the pace at which he’s moving is addicting, and with the addition of another finger curling into you, you’re a moaning mess.

the tips of his fingers reaching deep inside of you along with the pressure and speed at which is tongue glides on your clit is overwhelming. “baby im” you whimper again. “so close just for you”

that sentence alone was enough to have him speed up, increasing the intensity of his fingers and his tongue.

your hips rut into his face, his one hand still pushing your knee to keep you spread for him.

he doesn’t let out once, your mouth left in an o shape as the pleasure overtakes you, your stomach tensing into his touch as you release onto his fingers.

he pulls his fingers out, his mouth meeting your neck while the pads of his fingers rub your wet clit at a speed that has you dizzy, your legs shutting over his hand as he rocks you through your orgasam. “just like that there you go pretty girl, just for me” he mumbles, mindlessly sucking on your bare neck.

his hands stop when your own arms clutch onto him, signalling the sensitive became too much. “i love you so much and i’m so fucking sorry” you’re too out of breath to reply. “let’s get you cleaned up baby i wanna take you on a date”

a/n: i wrote this so fast bc i gotta go to work and i didn’t proofread (are we surprised) but yeah ily bye

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#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo oneshot #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut

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eubybubble · 4 months

Text

slytherin boys after an argument

ft. Tom, Mattheo, Theodore, Lorenzo

Theodore Nott

Realization hit him hard after a prolonged silence. The air felt thick, and he felt nauseous as he shifted his gaze from a small crack on the wall under his fist to your face. He just swallowed and left the room without a word.

He was terrified of himself, didn't he promise to never raise a hand on loved ones? Technically, he hadn’t, but it was too close. Thoughts flooded his mind as he rushed up the stairs in a desperate attempt to breathe fresh air. It wasn't surprising that he instinctively headed to the Astronomy Tower – your favorite place. Reaching the top, he stood there and retrieved the cigarette pack with trembling fingers. After hesitating, he lit one. Everything seemed to remind him of you. It was never that serious, you just wanted to help him.

Now, he felt like a total fool. Leaning against a wall and sliding down, he pondered over the the relationships. You were too sweet, he couldn't let you suffer near someone like him. With that, he set his mind on ignoring you and breaking up with you because "that'd be better for you." It seemed like you would only agree, he didn't consider any other possible answer.

In the next few days, he deliberately skipped meals and tried to ignore your questioning gaze in halls. However, you heard a slight cough from behind after the lunch.

"May we discuss something?"

"Well, if it isn't Theodore Nott! What—" he didn't let you finish.

"Let's break up." you froze, staring at him in disbelief.

"Nott, are you insane? Didn't you think to ask me?"

"I'm doing it right now."

"Really? It felt more like you just stated a fact and I can only accept it. It was really low of you to avoid me." Your eyes became shiny as tears started to accumulate involuntarily. Theodore noticed it, and despite the cold agenda he planned, he rushed towards you, wiping the tears.

"You wouldn't want to be with me," he mumbled.

"What? We could've talked! We've always talked about how important communication is, but how come we don't practice it? I know you, and I know myself; I wouldn't give up on our relationship that easily. And more than anything, I know that I want to be with you. Why would you do that to me?" you sobbed, clutching onto him as if you were afraid that if he left now, you would never see him again.

"Shush, principessa, I'm so sorry-" he didn't expect such a reaction from you. As you hid your crying face in his chest, his heartbeat only became faster. What an idiot he was for even thinking of such a thing. "I'm so sorry. For everything I've done and said. I'll work to be better for you," he rambled quietly. "Do you trust me? Are you ready to give me another try?" His voice cracked slightly as he asked the last question. You just nodded, and he chuckled at the sight. "Tesoro... I'm so sorry. I promise you it won't happen again." He gave you a forehead kiss, and he really meant it. Even though he didn't say anything about it, he decided to quit smoking. Yes, it won't be easy or a short process, but at least he found a far better addiction - you.

Tom Riddle

From the moment you saw Tom, you thought it could have worked out. At least, you hoped so. It all felt dumb. All those times when your friends told you to break up or said that he didn’t care about you - you refused to believe them. And now, it got you here when the most precious person told you were some troublesome trivia. In the past, you and Tom would at least talk during lunch or sit next to each other in Potions where he patiently helped you, but now, he skipped most lessons, and if he attended one, he’d sit alone. Everyone noticed it, and you became the target of their whispers and snickers. Some even went as far as mocking you in the halls.

“Well, if it isn’t the one Tom Riddle dumped. What, did he finally realize that you’re pathetic?” you tightened your hold on your books and tried to leave hurriedly until the blonde boy from the group shoved you into the wall. “Aren’t we talking to you? Why are you leaving so suddenly?”

It was a pretty loud encounter, so Tom, who was walking nearby, heard it and stopped in his tracks. To tell the truth, he didn’t even want to break up. He invented this silly excuse to protect you because he was afraid of his own actions. He hoped you’d be stubborn and come once again, but you didn’t. That’s when he knew he messed up, but his pride held him back from going to you. And now, someone was bullying his treasure.

But they underestimated your power. You didn’t want it to escalate into violence, but they started it first. With a swift movement of the wand, you threw them off with a big blast. Not even bothering to look behind, you paced up and bumped into someone.

“Oh.” As he put his hands on your shoulders to steady you, he eyed the unconscious group behind. “Using a spell of such power at this hour?” he mumbled nervously.

“Care to explain why you care? Get off, Riddle.” You tried to shove him away, but his grip was strong.

“What’s going on with you? I didn’t even do anything to make you that mad.” You nearly choked at these words.

“Tom.” He hesitated. “Do you think I’m that dumb to fall for your words? Move out of the way.” But he just stood there without a change.

"Don’t leave. I was just... I was afraid I’d hurt you," he whispered as he clutched onto you. "I was afraid of my own plans, of my own thoughts. But please, promise me never to leave, even if I change. I won’t hurt you, just stay by my side. I never expected to fall in love..I had everything planned ahead in a neat way, but you came in like a surprise. Yet, here we are, and it's you. There's no turning back now" You never saw Tom being so vulnerable, and you could do only nod. You cupped his face.

"Hey, I’m here. Everything’s gonna be fine. I’ll be here," you softly reassured him, not noticing how easily he drew you right back.

Mattheo Riddle

You had hard time absorbing everything Mattheo said. It was already dark outside, but you didn’t care to turn on the light or illuminate the wand with “Lumos”. You sat on the bed and went through the box with a glossy eyes. You couldn’t believe that he saved every gift, every letter, note - even those that you gave him before dating. Quiet sobs escaped your chest upon finding the promise ring at the very top. Why does it feel so awful when you believed you made the right choice?

As if on cue, your roommate entered the dorm room. "Hey, look what everyone’s talking about in school- oh, are you okay?" She turned on the lights and noticed your teary face. Quickly wiping everything away, you pretended to be busy, gathering everything back into the box. "Yeah, my eyes are sore from reading in the dark," a lame excuse, "what were you gonna tell?"

She knew you disliked having your privacy intruded upon. "So, three students were caught for an outrageous duel and a series of mobbings in Hogsmeade! Surprisingly, it was two Gryffindor students and one Hufflepuff. That fits into the ‘don't judge a book by its cover' narrative. I wonder when the stereotypes about the houses will end. Remember when everyone didn't doubt that it was Slytherin?" she sighed.

As if it weren't enough of a heartbreak, you discovered that everything you had ever suspected Mattheo of was all filthy lies and gossip. Suddenly, you felt dizzy.

You didn’t care about decency or dignity as you rushed to Mattheo’s dorm. He, too, was struggling. Despite everything, he regretted speaking harshly and leaving the memory box. What if you never returned and tossed it away? His heart clenched at the thought.

Feeling too irritated and unwilling to join others in the common room for a card game, he was all alone for now. In futile attempts to fall asleep, he heard a light knock on the door.

"Who’s that?" he groaned, too lazy to open the door.

"Hey, can we talk?" His muscles tensed upon hearing that familiar voice. Rushing to the door, he unlocked it immediately. "Oh, hi," you blushed and stopped mid-sentence, staring at his torso. He glanced down, realizing he forgot to put his shirt on.

"Shit. Sorry, one second," he shut the door in embarrassment and put on a random sweater. "What do you want?" he still held a grudge against you.

"I wanna... apologize. You have every right to shut the door, but I wanted to tell you that our relationship isn’t a joke to me. I love everything about you. I was just so stupid to believe all the gossips floating around Hogwarts, but that doesn’t matter. I came here to tell you how insane you make me feel. I mean, these days when I tried to collect my thoughts and was avoiding you, I was thinking of you non-stop. Mattheo, I’d fight the world to be by your side." As you rambled on and on, his gaze softened, and he pulled you by the waist.

"That’s my girl. I felt terrible when you acted the way you acted, but I hope it won’t be the same in the future?... I also apologize for saying unnecessary things."

"That’s okay, you had every right to be mad. What about I’ll order the food and we’ll watch a movie?"

“Gladly” he was grinning now. It wasn't necessary to tell him that you were also ordering a new broomstick, the perfect one for the perfect boy to make it up. It was the least you could do now. As you scrolled through the list of new films, Mattheo coughed.

"So, uh, can I get my box back, please? You didn’t go through it, right?" a light blush covered his face.

“Actually, I did, Matty. I didn’t know you are so sweet” he groaned at this comment “but I’ll return it to you. Sure.”

Lorenzo Berkshire

The moment Lorenzo received his numerology exam back, he couldn't believe the mark he saw. 70, satisfactory. Many would pray for such a grade, but he had studied and sacrificed too much for this.

As he walked to breakfast, he scanned the Great Hall but couldn't spot you. The previous day's argument flared up in his memory, and he wrinkled his nose as he sat down to eat. As predicted, a white owl sat on his shoulder, delivering a letter with Berkshire's family logo.

He run his eyes over the text. “disgrace..wasting time..bad influence” and blah blah blah. Nothing’s new, except the threat that ordered him not to come home until he got back on the track academically. He's been following his parents' wishes for too long; he was too afraid to ruin the perfect son image that he completely lost hold of his priorities.

Oh, how he wished to be in your embrace now, to listen to your soothing voice and nuzzle up to you in the dark. But he ruined it single-handedly.

He stood up and went to lessons, scratching an apology note for you in the meantime. At DADA, the only class you two took together, he tried to sit next to you and apologize, but that place was taken by a Hufflepuff girl, to which he could only frown. Throughout the lesson, you felt his gaze on you, but never once did you turn your head back at him. If he needed a break that much, he could get one. After all, you got tired of constantly begging him to relax and spend time with you and felt like a total fool.

After the lessons ended, you were the first one to leave the classroom, but he's not an idiot either. You felt someone gently taking hold of your wrists and pushing you into the empty classroom. The door closed behind.

"Can we talk and communicate like grown-ups?" Lorenzo inquired.

"You said everything you wanted last time. I have to go, Hermione's waiting for me in the library," you blatantly lied.

"Oh, really? Because when I last talked to Hermione, she told me she would be with Ron," he calmly stated, stepping closer. "I don't really remember things I've said, but-" You didn't let him finish.

“Enzo, you needed break and I’m giving it to you” his jaws tightened in frustration at your unwavering stance. “You told me I was a burden and you know what? I think you were right because lately, that’s what I felt like in relationships with you. It’s like I’m begging you to spend time with me. Maybe it's best to return to being friends” you mumbled. But he just shook his head, moving nearer once more until he stood right in front of you.

"I'm sorry I made you feel this way. It's not an excuse for my behavior, but I've been stressing about..something," he sighed. "You don't deserve to be treated like that, but trust me, I'll be better." He gently reached out for your arm. "I need just another chance. The only one. I've already written back to my parents, and I hope they will get off my back. I've also told them about us," his voice got quieter. "I hope you won't mind." Your breath hitched. He had always been postponing this, even if you wished for it. There was a minute of silence and apprehension before he wrapped you in a hug. "I hope you can forgive me, sweetheart. How about we go to the cafe you like this weekend?" he mumbled, peppering your face with kisses.

a/n: I apologize if it's not the way you imagined, but hey, I tried my best. Also, I think they were super careful and sweet afterwards!

taglist: @lilanxietysstuff @nopedefe @marina468

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babyleostuff · 5 months

Text

SAYING SOMETHING THEY DIDN'T MEAN IN A FIGHT | PERFORMANCE UNIT

𐙚 JUN

it would take a lot for jun to say something he didn’t mean, especially when it comes to you. he was always wary of what he was saying during fights or quarrels to not say something he’d regret later, but there were times where he was just too tired to think about what he was saying. i think he’d be the quickest out of all of them to apologise, like the second the hurtful words leave his mouth he’s already apologising, he just can’t stand your sad and disappointed expression.

“i’m so sorry, honey. i didn’t mean it, i truly didn’t mean it. i know i can’t make excuses now, i’m so sorry, baby.”

jun started babbling, not even letting you breathe after what he had just said. you wouldn’t lie - his words hurt, especially because jun never raised his voice at you during fights, so yes, you were sad and upset, but at the same time, a part of you couldn’t help but think how adorable he looked right now.

jun’s eyes were wide in panic, and he was holding your hands tightly in his, as if he was scared that you’d run away, which to be honest - you’d do if he didn’t have such a strong hold on you. hearing something so hurtful from the person you loved the most wasn’t easy, you felt betrayed and disappointed by his actions, but you didn’t want him to get so worked up over this either. “jun, baby, calm down.”

“no, i won’t. you have to believe me that i didn’t mean it.” you cupped his face in your hands, so his frantic eyes would focus on you for more than a second. “let’s just talk about it, k’ay?”

jun nodded his head quickly, helping you settle on the couch next to him, where you’d calmly talk about what had just happened (he’d keep on apologising for the rest of the day, even if you said you forgave him).

𐙚 HOSHI

things could get heated with this one really quickly, especially if he was stressed because of work or his schedules. hoshi would never intentionally take out his anger on you, but at the same time i don’t think he’s the best at managing his emotions, especially anger. he’d be so disappointment in himself after, though - like, the moment he says something hurtful (that he of course didn’t mean) he’d blame himself so much, and knowing that he hurt you would break his heart.

no words could describe the disappointment and embarrassment with himself that hoshi felt then. how could he hurt his loved one in such a cruel way? you didn't do anything wrong and he let his words and anger get the best of him, leaving you sobbing quietly in the middle of the living room.

“baby…” he felt like he didn’t deserve to call you that after what he had said, and you definitely looked even more upset hearing the pet name. “why would you say that?” you asked, your voice laced with so much sadness, hoshi felt his own heart breaking. he was sure your crying face would haunt him in his dreams now, but he deserved it.

hoshi knew it’d be for the best to leave you alone for a while now, so you could calm down and collect your thoughts, but he was afraid that if you left now, you wouldn't come back. he wouldn't even realise when his own tears would start running down his cheeks too. “I’m so sorry,” he’d whisper, covering his face in shame.

“i can’t hear you, honey,” you sniffled, wiping your face dry. “i-i’m s-sorry,” he hiccuped between the sobs. at the end, you both would start crying in each other's embrace.

of course you wouldn't forgive him right away, but you didn't want him to worry that you would leave him.

𐙚 MINGHAO

i feel like making minghao mad isn’t that hard, but that doesn’t mean he’d just lash out and take all of his anger on you, especially because he is a person that is good at managing his emotions. things could get really heated because of his pettiness and passive aggressiveness, though. sometimes he wouldn’t think through what he was saying or how he was acting, and how it would affect you.

“wow, minghao,” you muttered, looking at him with disbelief. “is there anything else you’d like to tell me?”

when he didn’t answer, you turned on your heel and walked out to your bedroom, slamming the door behind you. minghao, on the other hand, stood in the middle of the living room trying to wrap his head around what had just happened - what he had just said to you. the guilt started to catch up to him, his chest filling with crushing pain.

what made minghao feel even worse was that he didn’t react immediately and apologised. he didn’t even realise how much his words had hurt you at that moment, which made him feel like he was the worst boyfriend ever.

he’d give you some time alone, but when bedtime came, he’d softly knock on the door, your favourite snacks on a plate, and your favourite hoodie of his in his hand, and wait for you to open up. then, he’d apologise and have a proper, calm conversation with you. it was rare that you went to bed angry, minghao always made sure you’d make up before falling asleep, because in no universe would he be able to fall asleep knowing you were angry with him.

𐙚 CHAN

chan would never intentionally say anything to hurt you, you were the love of his life and he swore to do anything to keep you happy and safe at all times, so you’d have to get in a really big fight for him to say something hurtful. and honestly it would break his heart seeing your reaction to his words, he just wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. and as much as i don’t think that chan is an insecure person, i think he’d need a lot of reassurance after a fight that you still love him and that you’re not going to leave him.

chan stared in horror as a tear ran down your cheek. “baby, i didn’t… i don’t-” he saw your eyes fill with even more tears and if he only understood what had just happened, he would have immediately hugged you, but the problem was that he himself didn't know what had just happened. how the fuck could words like those even leave his mouth?

“are u going to say anything else?” you asked, sadness filling your voice. "say something chan," but he couldn't, he stood still, he even stopped breathing. shame and embarrassment consumed him completely, he didn't know how he would ever be able to look at himself after saying such nasty words to you.

he would stand and watch as you passed by him to leave the apartment, but he still wouldn't be able to move. when he finally realised that you had left the house and left him, he would just break down and cry in the middle of the room from the feeling of being so helpless. what if you really left him?

he wouldn't try to text or call you because he’d be afraid that all he’d hear would be "we’re over chan, don't call me ever again," and he wouldn't be surprised if you did. he acted like a total jerk.

when it finally started to get dark and you managed to calm yourself down, you went back to your place to calmly talk to your boyfriend, but all you’d find would be chan sleeping on your side of the bed, cuddled into your pillow with dried tears on his cheeks. that night he would be the little spoon, cuddled in your arms.

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @eightlightstar @itza-meee @immabecreepin @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @dkswife @marisblogg @whatsgyud @aaniag @jeonghansshitester @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @soul-is-a-strange-kid @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @hafsah-ali @mrswonwooo

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kneelingshadowsalome · 10 months

Note

Oh GOD, breeding kink with Ghost but he's actually determined to get his darling pregnant because after everything they've been through together, how much he loves her and vice versa? I could go on but it's just something to think about. I also strongly believe he'd be that kind of girl dad heheh

Couldn't Love You More (Ghost x F!Reader)

Left pic credit: @ vhenan_virabelasan on IG

Word count: 3.7 k

Tags/warnings: Tooth-rotting FLUFF. Mild, soft smut 🔞, crying (from joy), breeding kink (obv), comfort no hurt. All the softness and love.

A/N: Excuse me, more soft!Ghost coming through! I hope you like this take anon 💕

"I'm tired of using those things."

Simon rarely whispers, hardly ever murmurs, and never coos. But this time, his voice is deliberately soft.

You sigh and put the condom package down on the table. This evening had been a nice change, a pampering for your poor, stressed-out nerves. He had done his best to take your mind off work ever since he got home: he took you out for a 3-course dinner – which reminded you of the early days of your dating – and it was all supposed to end in a good stress relief of a fuck.

You'd sent him suggestive texts all morning, knowing he was coming home today. Those messages were extra naughty because you happened to be ovulating, and juicy, and horny as hell.

And you know he has waited for this moment as well. Which is why you can't get your head around why he wants to raise the subject of using other methods of contraception right before you're about to have sex.

Why would he suddenly start complaining when both of you are already naked – practically seconds before you're about to roll down the condom for him?

"You know I've tried, Simon," you sigh again – you don't even bother to disguise the annoyance in your voice. After all, you've tried basically everything to make it more pleasurable for you to make love without the risk of getting knocked up. You hate the rubber between the two of you just as much as he does, if not more. Apparently you need to remind him how the last attempt with the pill went.

"I become a bloated monster," you say, realizing you're pouting only when he laughs.

You absolutely love it when he does: it's a rare thing, even with you. Even after all these years of love and dedication, the warm, husky chuckle at the back of his throat makes your heart flutter and your head feel dizzy.

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean…?"

The man has a tiny twinkle in his eyes, and the flutter in your heart turns into something heavier, more serious. He looks you up and down as if to weigh whether you're ready to take in what he's about to say.

"How about we just ditch the bloody things?"

Your heart is truly getting it today: it skips a beat or two from what he says. From what he implies.

"But you…” you whisper, still unsure if you're truly discussing the same thing here. “You said that kids are a bad idea."

"They are."

The twinkle in those eyes turns into an amused gleam, the corner of his mouth lifts up a bit from seeing you so shocked.

And Simon never said he didn't want children.

It's just that he has avoided the subject like it's a seasonal flu he doesn't want to catch.

He would make the perfect father: you just know it. Sad to say, but it was one of the main reasons you fell for this man. It's stupid, but it's true: women look for these things. They can tell if a guy would be a good choice for a father. They notice safety, security, the willingness to support and provide.

Biology and instincts be damned, you simply can't deny that Simon is the first man who made you think about what it would be like to have children. And of course the perfect candidate for a father thought that kids were a bad idea…

It seemed like a cruel joke, the way he brushed you off when you first approached him with your shy request. You pussyfooted around the subject, were as delicate as one can be, knowing it might make him uncomfortable.

And it did. It more than just did.

He freaked the fuck out, went to work, and worked himself nearly to death – literally almost got himself killed, and you understood that this was serious. His childhood, his past, the dangers of his work – of course he thought himself unfit for the role.

Infuriatingly, it only made you more convinced that he was the perfect choice. The man was just so fricking responsible.

You barred your mouth shut after that. Instinct told you Simon might just leave if you continued the talk about having kids. Not because he couldn't take it, but because he would want to give you a chance to find someone to raise a family with before it was too late.

It was his view of unconditional love: he was ready to let you go if need be. He would set you free if he suspected it would make you happy.

But then you saw him look at tiny kids – usually the ones that had just learned to walk – with a fleeting longing in his stare. It always turned into a withdrawn sulk, the gaze of a man who has accepted his fate.

He seemed to have the softest spot for little girls, especially when they were laughing and giggling or being unruly rascals, and sometimes flinched when a baby started to cry in the store. He looked a bit distressed for a second, and not because of the noise – but because he couldn't locate the immediate source and go and calm the baby.

That's when you realized he actually wanted kids. The biological clock on this man was ticking just as furiously as yours.

Years passed, and you silently buried your dreams of raising a little family together. He was enough for you, more than enough: you would not break up because of this. No man could ever replace Simon.

But it still hurt. It was like a wound that never healed.

Until this night…

This night, it seemed he would not only cure it but heal it so well it wouldn’t even leave a scar.

You suddenly find yourself under him – his moves are so quick that it's almost like you're teleported there. He sometimes does that: lets you play with him for a while, have your fun on top before reminding you who is in control here.

And this time, he won't even let you play.

"Simon, what are you doing," you sigh with barely concealed exhilaration.

As if you didn't know exactly what he is about to do.

He looks at you with that possessive look he sometimes has when you two have been apart for far too long. And there's something more behind that stare. It tells you that this is serious; this means business. The package you placed on the nightstand remains unopened and, apparently, will be the witness to his mission tonight.

Serves the damn thing right…

You take in the absolute beef of this man: the bulk of pecs above you, the wide, solid middle that nearly swallows you every time you're under him.

You almost disappear between him and the mattress when you two are doing missionary, and it's one of the best feelings in the world. You've wanted to sink your teeth in to those huge, solid shoulders for god knows how many times. Once or twice, you actually did give him a little bite, only a nib, really, during a good pounding – and giggled at the breathless grunt of "Hey" that followed.

The trail of hair, darker in tone compared to the hair on his head, spreads over his abs which rest under a thin layer of fat. The happy trail, as you call it, runs down until it meets the heavy cock that always makes your mouth water like it's your favorite meal.

His hand is weighty, adoring when it comes to rest on your waist – the callous of his palms feels just the right kind of rough as he gives you the softest squeeze and a caress.

And he must know from the wanton looks you gave him all evening that he can just walk right in. Probably knew from those texts already that you've been wet all day long.

You try to spread your legs wider than they can go as he grabs himself to be positioned to your entrance. The fat tip of him feels heavy on your folds as he lazily slides himself up and down your slit, teasing the opening but not going in. It feels heavenly to sense him, all of him, with nothing there between you. There's no lifeless rubber: just his thick velvet meeting your wetness and silk.

The darned man won't even answer your question… Probably knows it's not really a question, just an astonished sigh of love.

"It's…not safe," your head falls back as he pushes the first few inches in – teasing you still by not giving you the full length and thick of him.

"Tired of safe, too," he rumbles softly above you, feeds more of himself in, and you tighten around his cock: receive him with fierce love and yearning. He groans at the sensation – it must feel divine for him, too. It must feel like it's meant to be this way. Now and forever.

You sigh as he starts to move, slow and intense, just the way he knows you like it when there's been too much stress and life has been a bitch. He always makes you feel better, always makes you melt in his arms when you run to him from the unfair, fucked up world.

He's got some bad days too, and that’s when you ruffle his hair, scrub his back in the shower, give him a sloppy little blowjob, or make him his favorite dish, anything to make the tension in those mountains of shoulders disappear.

You two worship each other; there’s no question about that.

"Simon–ah… Truly, are you serious…?"

"Hell yeah."

The idea of him cumming inside you is thrilling enough, but it's not just about that.

You're ovulating, and he's a man in his absolute prime. He reminds you of mountain lions and snow leopards, living their life in harsh conditions and in wandering solitude until… Until the perfect companion comes along. He's simply the most virile male there is; broad, wide, and heavy, always ready when you are.

A man like Simon just cannot be infertile.

His eyes are half-lidded already, and those pale eyelashes make you bite your lip and grab his butt like it would be a life or death situation if he chose to withdraw.

And you know he loves it when you grope his ass and try to assist him with the thrusts.

His little helper, indeed…

"Bloody fucking hell, you feel good…"

His head rolls back, exposing the tendons on his neck, thick, like the rest of him. Everything in this man is thick and broad and good – and fuck – he glides in and out like a dream. Somehow the extra layer of rubber has taken the brunt of his thickness away, but you feel it now, all of it, and it's something you could die for.

He grunts and thrusts, then halts for a while, chuckles all breathless…

"It's gonna be one hell of a show, sweetheart."

He's talking about what comes after. How it will be when there's a new addition and not a crew of two anymore. It brings tears to your eyes to see how he's already thinking about the future – and how he does it with a smile and a pleased chuckle.

"I'm used to sleepless nights," he reminds you softly. "You're not."

Ugh – he's thinking about your well-being when it would only make you the happiest woman on earth to take care of his children. Your children.

"I'll manage," you whisper.

"I know you will."

The tears are so close now; he’s simply the one and only person in this world for whom your love is boundless. It’s endless, overflowing.

He pulls back a little, raises your legs to rest on his shoulders, then crawls forward – he’s about to go deep, and the indecent but insanely sweet position makes you quail from him at first. It’s just too much all of a sudden.

"Wait–"

"The boys said this'll do the trick," he explains, waits until you adjust under and around him.

"The–the boys?"

He had been discussing this with his workmates…?

Discussing which position is the best to help conceive?

"Yeah. Wanna do this properly."

This man might actually be serious… He just might be serious about this, and you still have difficulty grasping it.

"I can't believe you want this," you whisper, still trying to catch your breath on what's happening.

"Believe it or not, it's gonna happen now."

The smallest tear escapes, and you purse your lips, shut them tight to prevent a tiny little bawl from erupting.

"I've always wanted you, Simon," you breathe into the air between you as he starts to make love to you, fill you with intent. "Just you, all these years…"

He rarely whispers, but this time, his voice is the softest hush.

"Right back at ya, darling."

"I–I want to give you… want your kids," you whimper, tears coating your voice as he continues the torture while the sweet, tight love surrounds you both.

"I want a family, Simon," you pant weakly, almost distressed. So urgent, desperate, like the wound is yet to be healed. You've never said those words to him before because you were afraid he might leave.

"Love… fuckin' hell."

He has to stop to catch his breath, to catch the truth. Of course he has known it all along without you telling him, because he simply has those instincts of a wild animal.

But words are powerful… They are magic. And this magic wants itself spelled out.

"I'll give them to you," he promises. "All of it. I swear."

Your eyes drift closed from the full wave of his vow. This mission is a crucial one, then, one of his most important ones. The man loves challenges; he loves when you up the stakes. Perhaps that's what this is about: he doesn't want to be a coward about the thing you both want.

The skulls, the brass and death that always surround him can't take away the fact that he's a lifegiver. No matter what anyone says, men can give life, too. He has already given you so much, and now he's going to give you children.

A few more tears push through, and it's one of the sweetest things in your life: to get fucked by him so good while you're crying from joy.

"Luv. You trust me?"

You open your eyes again, and the sight of him is crystallized through tears. It's the most beautiful thing.

"I trust you," you answer with a shaky breath.

Your trust is even more drugging to him than the tightness of your cunt, it seems. The corner of his eye twitches once, his brows knit together, and a pained look passes in his stare: but it's the sweet kind of pain, just like yours is.

"Feels so good," you whisper, looking up at him with devout love. "So, so good…"

"You're damn right," he sighs, panting with strained, short breaths. "Never felt this good."

He rocks you like you're under the sea, at the bottom of the ocean where the waves are mellow and the seabed is made of the softest sand. You're squeezed between his arms, tightly; he pins you to the bed with his body. The flutter of those pale lashes with every thrust is illegally sweet.

Your lips are bolted shut from the raw sensation, the swelling waves, but when a noise finally erupts, it does so with force.

You know it makes him wild whenever you cry and plead under him. You know it sends him straight to the edge, too: when you moan and tighten around his cock, spread yourself for him to plunder while you're clawing at his back. You were so embarrassed the first time you noticed the red marks on his skin after your little sessions, but he was only pleased and said you should never apologize for that. His body is full of past pain and torture, and still, still, he allows, even wants you to destroy it even more.

"Faster, Simon, please…"

"Yeah, that's it. Beg... Beg for me, love… "

And damn right, he's eating up your wrecked state like it's time for Christmas dinner, and the table is brimming with his favorite food. You're close, so close it would be torture, devastation if he stopped.

"Ya want me to give it to you?" His voice is more rough, more commanding. God, he's close too.

"Yes–give it to me, please–"

Just don't stop, whatever you do, don't stop…

You beg some more, but it's incoherent. Just the way he likes.

Simon–fuck…

There's no reason to it, just ah's and fuck's and love's, all knit together in a sweet, heady mess as you come–

Fuck–!

…the orgasm is so intense it points your toes, makes you wrap around his middle with what little strength you have in your arms and fingers and those tiny little claws. Your nails sink in, somewhere between his shoulder blades: he's so wide you can't quite reach to hug him, but you latch onto him like a drowning person nonetheless.

"Oh–oh fucking god…!"

He comes, right after, buries himself so deep that it stings a little, but you would never, ever complain. He pumps you full, doesn't even move, only arches his back to go even deeper, although he's already buried there to the hilt.

And never has he in all your years together sounded so vulnerable. He usually just grunts and huffs when he comes, but now you get a whole string of words and a fragile, broken pitch. He sounds as if he's near the point of breaking into tears.

It must feel divine to cum inside you instead of a condom, and what's even more, with the intent to fulfill a mission with that shot. Give life.

If you don't get pregnant from this, well… you doubt you ever will.

He's lying on top of you in a heavy, panting heap, sounding like he's just done ten deadlift PRs in a row. You can't help but laugh, breathless, too, and caress him as he comes down from his sex high.

"You can let me go now," you ghost your fingertips up and down his back when he still doesn't move. It's not that you want him to release you, but he's simply too heavy to be lying all over you like this for long periods of time.

"Nah not yet. Gotta make sure..."

He thinks you want him to pull out, and you giggle some more.

"You're crushing me," you laugh. "And we can do this all weekend, silly. If you want to make sure."

His middle contracts with a silent laugh, too.

"Got a fair point there, love."

Finally, he lets you out of the spread. He pulls out, too – that's not necessarily what you wanted, but when he takes you in his arms, you don't complain.

"That was… so nice," you say, suddenly shy. As if this was the first time he wrapped himself around you in a post-coital embrace.

"That was the best."

He's so warm, and the arm around you is heavy, even when lax. Especially when lax. You feel soft and sweet in his hold made of pure strength.

"I'd be surprised if not. You were very determined."

"You think that did it..?"

He's suddenly shy, too. You could swear he has never asked such a fragile question during or after a mission.

"No half-assing with my sweetheart."

One could say he really used his whole ass on this. You know it, because you're the one who spurred him on with weak but eager hands.

"...but I think it would be best to try again tomorrow. Just in case," he suggests, and you can hear the smile. God, that you love him.

"I wouldn't say no to that."

You imagine him waking up to your baby's cry with a sigh and a jaw-dislocating yawn, hushing you back to sleep by telling you it's his turn to go. He would finally locate the source of crying and make it his mission to cradle the little breadcrumb back to sleep, too. You just know Simon would sometimes fall asleep on the sofa while the baby is still in his arms, sound asleep just like their dad.

And you also know the child would make him laugh more. He would have the greatest time hearing all the silly (not to talk about the clever!) things the kid comes up with once it started talking. Simon would listen with a straight face, at first – out of respect – but then he would come to you with an unrestrained smile and a comment: "Did'ya hear what that little thing just said? Unbelievable..."

Whenever the kid had a tricky question, you would send them to Simon. It's decided already. You imagine him explaining things to the child with his steady and calm briefing voice while you're trying to keep your giggle in.

And when the little one was big enough to run around and poke things off the shelves, Simon would embrace you from behind while you're pouring some morning tea and say: "Should we make another one, hmm?"

After all, your little troublemaker would also need a friend to play with...

There's a gigantic, peaceful smile on your face, and Simon should be snoring by now… But he's still awake, and the arm around you draws you closer. He even tucks his hand partly between your body and the mattress. It's the sweetest prison from which you never want to escape.

"What if… What if I get grumpy when I'm pregnant?" You start to chit-chat nonsense while he holds you against a solid chest. You know he will fall asleep soon, and you wish to voice some fragile concerns before he does.

"I'll bring you ice cream to keep you nice and calm," he mutters in the back of your neck, sounding drowsy already.

"What if ice cream won't help?"

"I'll bring you chocolate."

You smile at him having a solution to every problem, no matter how minor.

"You're really not afraid…?"

"Of you being grumpy? Nah I don't think so."

"No," you laugh at him joking around. "Of… changes."

"After all that we've been through? No." He brushes his lips over your neck, and you turn a little to look at him.

"Simon... What made you change your mind?"

He thinks on the answer for a good ten seconds. You know that inward look, which is both a gaze to the past and a shaky, hopeful glimpse to the future.

"Don't wanna die without knowing how our kid would look like. What they would be like."

You swallow past sorrow – it's such a beautiful thing to say that you have to catch your breath for a moment. Then you put your hand over his arm, the one keeping you close to him.

"Guess I got tired of living in fear," he sums up the change of heart, and you have to blink back more tears.

"I'm tired of living in fear, too," you whisper, and he entwines your fingers together. The kiss that follows is like a seal to your change of plans. It's pure hope.

"Could you... Could you say that we'll be fine?" You speak on his lips as softly as you can. You sometimes worry that he's annoyed by your constant need for reassurance, but he sounds as solid as a soldier can be.

"We'll be fine like always. Promise you that."

He doesn't seem to mind: if anything, you could swear that giving you encouragement only makes his chest puff up a little. The man gets satisfaction from you needing him in your life like this.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of us."

You ease fully into his embrace. He has said he'll take care of you many times before, but now your world is changing. It has changed already; you just know it. There's no more you and him, a team of two.

There will be a tiny little breadcrumb too.

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley fluff #simon riley smut #ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon riley imagine #soft simon riley #soft ghost #fluff and smut #call of duty #mw2 fluff

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edens-pen · 2 years

Text

romans 3:23

summary | nanami kento can't bring himself to pull back because he was fucked from the moment you walked into the church. your little white dress was the noose around his priesthood.

pairing | priest!nanami kento x fem!reader

word count | 3,206

warnings | oh god — blasphemy, sacrilege, sex in a church, oral (f!receiving), pussyjob, masturbation, corruption kink, virgin kink, unprotected sex, cervix fucking, god kink, worship kink, praise, degradation, creampie, slight breeding kink, just the tip, squirting, dub con (ish), minorly ooc kento :(

a/n | this was not beta'd + i have church in the morning. dabbling in some kinktober!! something light for y'all to enjoy <3

[ 18 + | minors, blank, ageless blogs, do not interact! ]

—

nanami kento was a man of the cloth.

of course, the operative word being "was."

he was a man of the cloth until you waltzed into the church with your family. a fresh college graduate, staying with her parents to save money, teaching at the local elementary school.

the first sunday you came in a modest dress, your soft eyes taking in the composure of the church before they landed on him. a demure smile settled on your face and you ducked your head after meeting his eyes.

he was hooked.

it's not like he could help it. your eyes stayed trained on him throughout every service and he loved your attention. he thrived under your watchful gaze, the way you hung off of every word he spoke.

and you weren't a mystery, nanami could read you like a book. he saw the way your thighs clenched in the pew when his voice raised.

it only took a few weeks for you to show up in his office.

the perfect combination of innocent and repentant. the conversation starts sweet, a recollection of your time in college and your abandonment of church.

"i didn't go to church when i went away, i was busy and distracted," you sigh, fiddling with your fingers. "i have maintained my purity in college, but recently, i've been...tempted."

nanami can't explain the relief that floods him when he hears that you're a virgin, and the excitement that hits him when you start to open up.

"i've been having impure thoughts and they've been getting worse every week, i try to ignore them, but last night, i couldn't." your voice is a shaky whine, afraid of the consequences. "i touched myself."

your confession has nanami's eyes nearly rolling back. he bites the inside of his cheek thinking about you with your hands between your legs, rocking against your fingers. he thinks about how slick your thighs would be, how easily you would give in and come for him. he knows you're pent up, you've spent your life in restriction.

it's that moment of silence that has you filling the gap again.

"it was only that one time father, and i've never done it before then, and i haven't done it since!"

nanami refrains from smiling, only nodding at your words. he leans forward, clasping his hands on the desk.

"i'd like you to come to me the next time you're experiencing your impure thoughts, i believe i can help."

you graciously accept and nanami only bids you a good evening.

he doesn't expect to see you again so soon, or for you to be sitting in his office on a friday night, the edge of your skirt between your fingers, tears in your eyes.

"i'm so sorry father nanami, i tried not to think about it!" you're crying now and nanami is so thankful he's behind his desk because the sight of your tears is getting him so hard.

he gives you a little smile before he asks, "what did you think about?"

this is when you freeze, body tight and in panic. you stutter out a few words, but nanami cuts you off. "it's okay, all have sinned and fall short of the glory of god, confess and i can help you."

with his reassurance, you open your mouth and confess.

"i have these thoughts all the time," you bow your head and swallow harshly as you continue. "it's wrong but i think about him having sex with him."

"it's best to talk about our sins," nanami takes a slow breath before rising from his chair. "to relieve ourselves from concealment. who is this person you're having these thoughts about?"

at his words, your eyes meet his again. "i can't—"

"do you believe that you can hide from god? they are not hidden from my face, nor is their sin concealed from my eyes."

his tone is stern and it makes you nervous to see the hard line of his frown.

"it's you."

nanami clenches his teeth at your pitiful, little whisper. the shame sits hot in your face and he can't help but drink it in.

he can't bring himself to pull back because he was fucked from the moment you walked into the church. your little white dress was the noose around his priesthood.

the only thing he can do now is drag you down with him.

that night, nanami consoles your fears and worries, he tells you the real work will start after sunday morning service. he promises you that there is nothing to worry about, there is no sin that can't be washed clean by god's love.

—

so sunday evening, you tell your parents you're doing intensive study with nanami and they are overjoyed to hear it.

in fact, they encourage you to stay as long as you can.

so nanami takes his time with you. he walks you through scriptures and teachings and prayers and at the end he even gives you a technique to keep you from truly sinning.

"what people don't know is that masturbation is a sin," nanami explains, taking your hands in his. "only if you climax."

your eyebrows furrow and nanami continues, "it's not a sin if you don't finish."

he demonstrates by having you sit on top of his desk, skirt hiked up around your waist, panties hanging off your ankle.

nanami's kneeling in front of you, eyes shut. he's just breathing you in and he wasn't surprised to see that your thighs are glistening. you've just spent the last hour skirting his touches and listening to the rumble of his voice.

he pets lightly at your folds, as you lean back, propped up on your elbows. spreading you open, nanami groans to himself at your slick hole, begging for him to touch you. his fingers trace lightly over your cunt before tapping at your clit.

of course you're sensitive. his light touches have you trembling and shaking, already crying out his name.

"is this what you thought of when you touched yourself," nanami speaks, his breath right over your mound. his eyes flicker up to meet yours, hooded and desperate. "me between your legs, playing with this filthy mess?"

you nod pathetically and nanami continues. there's no rhyme or reason to the way he's touching you. he's greedily spreading your mess around your thighs and flicking at your clit while you cry above him.

"please, please nanami, it feels so good."

he responds by sealing his mouth over you, teasing his tongue against your clit.

his finger starts slipping inside your cunt, stretching you out. nanami relishes in how tight you are, knowing that your little fingers weren't enough to open you up for him. with little effort, nanami's grazing spots inside of you that you didn't even know existed.

your mess is sliding down his wrist, but he doesn't stop. he keeps going until you're whining his name again, desperate and pleading.

"oh god, please, i can't!" your fingers find purchase in his hair, keeping his mouth over your pussy. "let me cum! just this once, please, i'll be good. i need you."

tears are welling up in your eyes, but nanami knows this isn't what you need right now. he feels your cunt tightening around his fingers as your voice goes up in shrill cries.

"you want to cum?"

"yes, so bad! please let me cum!"

it only worsens when he pulls away, leaving you empty.

the tendrils of your upcoming orgasm slip away and your tears fall even faster.

your watery eyes find nanami who's sitting back, smiling teasingly at you.

"see? you did so good."

you don't believe him, not until nanami has kneeling in front of him as performs similar acts on himself.

his cock is hard and weeping against his fist. he insisted on using the slick from your denied orgasm to smooth the movements of his hand. the wet sounds of his pleasure fill the office.

"you make me feel so good, you're so damn pretty," nanami grunts. you're inches away from his dick, and he can feel the puffs of your breath against the tip. your eyes are trailing the motions of his hand, the flex of his stomach, and the tension in his thighs.

his languid pace speeds up to something rough and fast, it's taking everything in nanami not to come on your face, not to spew every disgusting thought in his mind.

all in due time.

so he settles for making you think he's just like you. when he feels the knot of pleasure about to unwind, he grabs the base of dick and squeezing until your name sounds like a curse on his lips.

"god, baby, see?" he's out breath, but it's okay when he sees the light smile on your lips. "it's okay if you don't come."

—

nanami honestly doesn't know when he got so fucked. he thought he had control of this. he believed he had control of his actions, but you've taken root in his brain, and he had to know that edging you and himself wasn't going to be enough.

it only takes a few more sessions for nanami to convince you to do more. that it's okay, as long as you come with nanami in the room to oversee it. and it's okay as long as you come on his fingers, or in his mouth.

now, nanami has you grinding on his lap, using your cute little cunt to give him a pussyjob. your panties are stuffed in his pocket and his pants are around his ankles. his dick is harder than its ever been in his life, the tip is leaking between your pussy lips, throbbing and red.

"don't worry," nanami groans into your neck. "it's fine as long as i'm not inside you."

nanami feels like he might even believe it himself, because he knows it must be heaven inside your pussy. and to deprive himself of it right now must make him a saint.

the way you're whining in his ear and clutching his shoulder has nanami strongly considering otherwise.

"this feels so good, you're so big nanami!"

and while he doesn't need his ego stroked, he knows your words are genuine. he can tell from the way you're crying it out in disbelief. he needs to hear the way you'll sound when he's sinking his cock inside you, fucking against that sweet spot he touches his fingers.

"'nami, 's good, oh my—" you cut yourself off with a broken moan, and nanami can tell you're getting close with the way your slick pours out, covering his cock.

he's learned that you cum the hardest when he's pinching your nipples and talking you through it. so with one hand nanami guides your hips, keeping you moving in his lap, and with the other he's playing with your chest.

all the while nanami's speaking praises into your ear.

"you're such a pretty little angel, you listen so well," nanami kisses your neck, careful not to leave a mark above your collar. "always so perfect for me."

and his words have you soaring, crying out his name as you clutch his shirt.

but this is still not enough.

your pretty eyes filled with tears and the sound of his name on your lips isn't enough anymore.

it should be alarming that it's taken nanami such a short period of time to be so infatuated with you, but he can't bring himself to care.

not when you look at him like he hung the stars in the sky,

like he gave the sun it's light,

like he's god.

it's love and it's power and nanami cannot let this go. your body is singing the devil's song and he's echoing the words.

so in the same breath, he's teasing the tip of his cock at your entrance, whispering reassurance as he does.

"promise it'll be just the tip, angel, just need to feel you like this."

he doesn't try to assuage you with promises of heaven and a sinless life. he knows that won't work. nanami thinks you might love him more than you love your religion.

he hopes he's right.

so you're giving in, making him promise "just the tip." and nanami nods half-heartedly, already pussydrunk imagining the way you're going to swallow him up.

"too big, 'nami, 's too big!"

but it's just the tip and it's got his eyes fluttering at the feeling of your sucking him.

he lets you settle around him before he tilts your head up to look at him again. placing kisses under your jaw, he tries to distract himself from the inviting warmth of your heat, but the feeling of his lips on your neck has you squirming in his lap.

"i can—oh god—i can take more, right? you'll give me more?" you whine in his ear, desperate and pleading, like it's nanami's fault he's not touching your cervix right now.

in truth nanami was trying to control the situation, swearing to himself that he wouldn't ruin you in one night.

but he's a weak man with simple desires and being inside you is a pleasure he can no longer deny himself.

so nanami takes your hips in his hands and keeps you right on his tip. then he takes his time sinking you down, ignoring your cries and whines of it being too much. he knows you can take it.

it takes him too long to get your hips all the way down, his balls pressed against your ass. by the time he's seated completely inside you, sweat has collected in the valley between your breasts and nanami has left marks along your neck.

"doin' so good for me, so wet and tight," nanami grunts in your ear. his praise sinks right in your stomach and he knows it.

nanami tries to take it slow because this is your first time, he barely even got to prep you, but once he starts thrusting, the sound of your voice knocks him out entirely.

"oh—oh my god!" your nails are raking down his back as you cry out, "kento!"

the sound of his first falling off your lips has nanami's rhythm stuttering. he doesn't know why it floors him, but he knows he's not going as slow as he was when he first started.

in the back of his mind, he know he should not be drilling you like this. nanami should have you laid out on his bed, softly easing his way into your cunt, probably with a condom on, after having wrung multiple orgasms from your body. he should continue praising you, reminding how good you're doing for him.

instead he's got you bouncing totally naked in his lap, his pants down around his ankles, with his hand clutching the base of your throat. tears are falling down your cheeks and nanami can't stop himself from licking them up with fervor. and all he can think of is how filthy you are for letting him fuck you in a church, and that's all that comes out of his mouth.

"so fucking slutty for me, baby," nanami groans, thrusting up harder. "letting me in this cunt so easily? have you been saving it for me?"

"yeah, all for you, just for you," you swear. "god, it's only yours!"

nanami nods, kissing your lips sloppily, "just for me? your tight, wet pussy was waiting for my fucking cock?"

"kento—"

"this body's supposed to be the temple of god, you know that? i've taken an oath, bound myself to God, spent hours of my life in prayer and solitude," nanami rambles, flicking your nipples as he speaks. "then you walk in with this sweet, virgin cunt and i've never wanted anything more."

with every thrust, nanami's rolling against your spot, fucking you into the shape of his cock. and he's in your ear telling you that he owns you now, that every inch of your body belongs to him, entirely. so you keep agreeing with him, nodding and promising that nobody else will touch you like this.

he's got his hands all over your body, playing with your chest, groping your ass, and then gripping your throat tightly.

in the silence that comes from you being choked, nanami chuckles a little.

"hear that?"

and you know what he's talking about immediately. the sounds of him fucking you, the squelching sounds of your arousal loud and echoing in his office.

"it's how bad your little pussy wanted me. how bad she wanted to fuck her priest. came to my church to fuck things up, hm?" nanami slows down, grinding you on his lap while he taunts you. "wore that white dress and wanted me to lose my religion. knew i couldn't resist this hot fucking body sitting in my pew."

you're trying to disagree but with nanami's cock pressed against cervix, but you can't even uncross your eyes.

"fucking answer me."

nodding, you mindlessly agree, "yes, you're right! kento—my god—i'm so close, please don't stop."

and the way you keep mixing his name with cries for God is making nanami's head spin. he's starting to think you're doing it on purpose.

"yeah? beg me some more," nanami smiles, nipping at your neck again. "i like hearing you."

you bite back the petulant whine rising up in your throat and choose to be obedient. "kento, please let me cum—want it so bad, please!"

this time nanami obliges you, twisting your nipples between his fingers, urging you to cum for him.

"be my nasty fucking girl and cum on my cock, sinful little slut."

your nails dig harshly into his shoulder as you toss your head back in heavenly ecstasy.

"oh my—fuck!"

the curse falling from your lips is followed by the collection of tension in your body. your cunt tightens around nanami's cock as you freeze on nanami's lap. he keeps fucking you through it, his cock pounding into your cunt while you gush and squirt around him.

"can you cum inside me, kento? please?" you're begging again, even more for his cum than for your own orgasm. "i want it so bad, want you to fill me up, okay? you'll do it right, kento? you'll give me your cum?"

and what choice does nanami have? he has to empty his balls inside you.

"gonna dump my fucking cum in your cunt," nanami growls.

that's all the warning you get before he's fulfilling his promise, giving you everything he's got. his groans and curses fill your ears while his hips stutter, painting your insides white.

nanami sighs in contentment, rubbing his hands up and down your back as his cock softens inside you. he feels you relax in his lap, tiredness overtaking your limbs.

the evidence of your sin leaks down to nanami's balls.

you lean your forehead against his, stars still in your eyes. even after the depraved acts nanami's performed on you in the last couple of weeks, you still think he's created heaven and earth.

"thank you so much kento, you're so good to me," you whisper and it sounds like a prayer.

in nanami's ears, it sounds like worship.

—

#nanami kento x reader #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader smut #nanami kento x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #this was so freeing to write #i need to write more of this omfg #priest nanami satisfies something in me #he might've been a little ooc #— eden writes jjk

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saltpepperbeard · 8 months

Text

OBLIGATORY COMPLETE OFMD SEASON 2 TEASER THOUGHTS AND SPECULATION POST™

Okay, to start off, I cannot BELIEVE we got this. I cannot BELIEVE we got a voiceover of Stede's note to Ed. We were all thinking it. We were all hoping for it. I CANNOT BELIEVE WE LEGITIMATELY GOT TO SEE AND HEAR HIS LOVE RIGHT OFF THE BAT. HE LOVES HIS ED SO SO MUCH.

Followed by this shot right as Stede is narrating. It's difficult to tell, but it seems like Ed??? The one-armed jacket and the fact that it's layered with Stede's narration makes me quite certain it's him. But ALONE??? AND COMING OUT OF THE SURF??? (There's a shot later that has me PARTICULARLY raising eyebrows at this moment. I'm thinking that he fell off the boat/was lost in that one storm shown later, and Stede of course is going to dive in after him or attempt to get to him in some sort of dramatic way. Which makes me think he and Stede are going to potentially talk feelings/reconcile on the beach)

And the fight choreography of this. Are you actually kidding me right now. ARE YOU KIDDING ME. GETTING TO SEE ED ABSOLUTELY KICKING ASS IN COMBAT??? NEVER IN A THOUSAND YEARS DID I EXPECT TO SEE A SHOT LIKE THIS BUT I'M HOLLERING SO HARD OVER IT (NOT TO MENTION, AGAIN, LOOKING AT THIS AND A LATER SHOT..........I'LL SCREAM ABOUT MY THOUGHTS WHEN SAID SHOT APPEARS HSKDLS)

Oh, they're PINING pining. They're YEARNING yearning. They're GAY gay.

They want to be back with each other so so so bad I'm losing my mind <3

"Fuck you, Stede Bonnet." The way he's JUST as dramatic as we were all thinking. The way he's hurting in a way WE ALL ANTICIPATED. LIKE, YOU HATE TO SEE IT, BUT MAN DSJKLDSSDKL. Also, the contrast of him saying that vs Stede's voice over is so so insane. The editors are INSANE FOR THAT ONE.

AGAIN, GOING BONKERS OVER ED'S CHARACTERIZATION BECAUSE HE SEEMS EXACTLY HOW I ANTICIPATED. Outwardly, angry, hardened, and cold. Inwardly, heartbroken, desperate, and wanting nothing more than to be back with Stede. Because hello, HELLO, HE'S NOTCHED WHAT I ASSUME TO BE HIS NUMBER OF DAYS WITHOUT STEDE IN THE WALL??????

HI OLU HELLO OLU MY DEAR DARLING OLU

but also screaming and crying and throwing up because this is ALSO what i was anticipating/hoping for. the crew being like "ummmmm lmao captain?? you really think you've got this under control???"

"You think Blackbeard's going to murder you?" I THINK NOT BECAUSE WHAT IS HE EVEN SHOOTING AT JSLDKS. OFF TO THE SIDE??? A WARNING SHOT????? Also the lighting of this and his look matches the ending shot so I'm very eyes emoji at this entire thing.

HOWEVER...

"MURDERER THRICE OVER?????????????"

Like sorry, that sign won't stop me because I can't read. Look at him. LOOK at him. You're telling me he stole the wedding cake toppers so he could PAINT HIMSELF ON THE BRIDE??? SO HE COULD MAKE HIMSELF INTO THE BEAUTIFUL BRIDE HE WANTS TO BE????? SO THAT HE COULD PLAY PRETEND MARRIAGE BETWEEN HIMSELF AND STEDE???????

INSANE!!!

INSANE FOR THIS!!!!!!

Again, bonkers editing. The split screen. The CONTRAST between Stede's hopefulness and Ed's depression. The WAY THEY LINED IT UP TO MAKE ED LOOK LIKE HE'S TAKING AIM AT STEDE. THE WAY THIS PROBABLY PERFECTLY ENCAPSULATES THEIR CHARACTERIZATION IN THE FIRST FEW EPISODES HSDJKLSDS LIKE BITING THE EDITORS BITING THEM BITING THEM

ALSO ED AND ALL OF HIS GUNS,,, NINE GUNS???????

It kills me because he's probably being exactly what he thinks people see him as. He's probably like "Oh, you want a monster? I'll give you a monster."

WHICH,,,, NO, HONEY. YOU'RE A SWEETHEART, SORRY ABOUT IT.

AND THEN LOOK AT THEM. LOOK AT OUR DARLINGS!!! FANG'S FUCKING SPIKES ARE SO METAL. FRENCHIE'S WOLVERINE COSPLAY SHDJKLSHDLKS. JIM!!! JIM JIM MY BELOVED JIM, AND THEIR PAINTED BEARD. THEIR GENDER!!!!!!!

Honey hsdksjds the drama of it all. THE DRAMA. CRASHING WEDDINGS TO DISRUPT LOVE BECAUSE YOUR OWN WAS DISRUPTED??? SIIIIIIRRRR THE THEATRICS, THE SPICE OF IT ALL

excuse me ma'am that is a gay man shdkjshkls THAT IS A GAY MAN. WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING,,,

kiss me instead like wtf

OKAY NOW THIS,,,

THIS.

PRESIDENTIAL ALERT: THE BABYGIRL IS FIGHHHTTTTIIIING

BUT IZZY WATCHING ON??? IZZY????????????

I have Genuine Thoughts™ about this. I have a feeling that the big arc/character development Con mentioned might pertain to him like, REALIZING what's important, and what Ed actually wants and needs. And a good chunk of that will be him realizing the consequences of his actions, and maybe potentially wanting to undo the damage. And also, in his Bitchy Izzy Ways™, he might also get very very tired of Ed's sulking/theatrics and want to rectify things for that reason too.

So I feel like he's going to sort of team up with Stede and show him the ropes for that reason?? So they ALL can work towards betterment???

WHICH IS NUTS LMAO. NEVER EVER EXPECTED THAT.

REGARDLESS, GO STEDE BABY GO!!!

HI REVENGE HELLO REVENGE PLEASE DON'T DO ANYTHING DRASTIC LIKE EXPLODE OR ANYTHING PLEASE BABYGIRL <3

yeah yeah the titties we've all seen them.

BUT AGAIN, AGAIN, STEDE OFF TO THE SIDE. STEDE WATCHING. STEDE LEARNING THE ROPES FROM THE MOST UNEXPECTED PERSON EVER SHDJKSDS LIKE WHAT!!!

AND HEEEEEEERE WE GO. HERE'S THE SHOT I WAS REFERRING TO EARLIER.

THE SAME BLACK SAND BEACH. FIGHTING THE BRITISH. ED AND STEDE. ED WITHOUT HIS MAKEUP ON. STEDE IN A DIFFERENT OUTFIT.

ARE THEY BOTH,,, FIGHTING TO GET TO EACH OTHER??? FIGHTING THROUGH CROWDS AND ENEMIES TO GET TO EACH OTHER'S SIDES???????

WHAT IF THEY FIGHT TO EACH OTHER AND THEN KISS HUH???

WHAT THEN.

HIIIIIIYYYAAAA JACKIE <33333

ALSO HELLO IS THAT THE SWEDE BEHIND HER???????

EXPLOSIONS FIRE EXPLOSIONS EXPLOSIONS FEELING VERY WEE JOHN CODED RIGHT NOW!!!!!!

AND THIS IS YET ANOTHER SHOT I WAS REFERRING TO EARLIER,,,

LIKE UHHHHHHHHHHHHH

WITH ED ON THE BEACH, AND THIS SHOT OF SOMEONE FALLING INTO THE WATER,,,,,,

I HAVE A FEELING THAT ED IS GOING TO DO SOMETHING THAT ENDS WITH HIM FALLING OFF THE BOAT. MAYBE HE TRIES TO SAVE SOMEONE???

if he fights to save stede from going overboard or something equivalent i'm going to eat all the tiles off my floor <3

LIKE IT'S BAD BESTIES. IT'S BAD. IT'S DIRE. THE WATER IS SO FUCKING HIGH AND THEY'RE IN A STORM AND JIM IS SCREAMING AND I AM ALSO SCREAMING!!!

But then also, LOOK AT FUCKING WEE JOHN!!! IN DRAG!!! HE'S A FUCKING MERMAID!!! JIM ISN'T A MERMAID???? WELL, THAT'S FINE--WEE JOHN IS!!! LIVING HIS BEST FUCKING LIFE!!!!! AND WHAT IF HE MADE THAT COSTUME HIMSELF SJDKSDJLS <3

AND THE FINAL SHOT I'M CHOOSING, THE FINAL ONE OF THE SET,,, MATCHES UP WITH THAT LIGHTING EARLIER.

WHO ARE WE FIGHTING, ED BABE. WHAT'S THE TEA. WHO ARE YOU CLOBBERING.

IS IT US?

IT'S PROBABLY US.

BECAUSE THIS ENTIRE THING HAS ME SO SO SO DEAD Y'ALL

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aluciahaz · 1 month

Note

may i just say that your character writing is AMAZING! i honestly don’t check up on your blog a lot but when i do i’m left SHAKING because your shit is soooo hot.

Anyways i humbly come requesting mommy kink with vox because you know i’m all about that. he’s so desperate for validation and scared of rejection i feel like he’d be weeping at a domme mommy type reader. Anyways, do what you want with this!

once again i love your work! sincerely, bimbo <3

oh my god it's one of my favorite writers on tumblr🦅 thank you so much for the compliment it means a lot 😭 also i loved writing this ive desperately needed more vox asks! hope you enjoy! (kinda went ham on metaphors 💀 mb)

greed never stops

—vox x f!reader

—includes: overstim, tons of crying, begging, light bondage

vox was a walking, living(?) juxtaposition.

he’ll go barking orders to his subordinates, control most situations with smooth, quick thinking, and command his business with an iron fist.

but with you, the other side of his screen is on full display. his vulnerable, attention-desperate, failure-fearful self. you’ve seen it enough times to notice how it seeps into his daily life. how his control is really just a mechanism to take hold of his vulnerability, hiding it behind a mess of steel wires to make anyone who would try and reach it get tangled in its grasp.

but the moments he lets you untangle his facade, allowing you to see his true self, he feels free. even if most of the time it was during more intimate moments in the night. it was where he could truly indulge in his unfamiliar desires, crying and begging for the validation he was always seeking.

and you were the one he needed it from.

your praise was one of the highest in the hierarchy of compliments, making him feel like he was burning up, frying his brain in a way that made him feel like he’s short-circuited, but the feeling of fuzziness was intoxicating. he could never give up the taste of your compliments.

“come on, aren’t you a good boy? you can hold out for a little longer.”

those words were like rich liquor, and vox was an eager drinker. it swirled his thoughts into a never-ending spiral, and he could only cry in response as you touched his face with a gentleness that rivals an angel’s.

“b-but, mommy—!” he sobs as your fingers drive into him for what seems the thousandth time, his voice module starting to struggle as he tries to speak.

“oh?” you raise your eyebrow, feigning shock before narrowing your eyes, pressing him further down the sheets in disdain. is he still being ungrateful?

“but what, huh? don’t tell me you need more already! you’re such a greedy fucking slut,” you spit out, watching his eyes shoot open from the whiplash of your cruel words. “maybe i should stop—,”

“NO! nono, please! no! i’m sorry—!” he keens as your fingers slowly start to slip out of him, the sound so indecent it makes him shiver.

he pushes his hips up into your hand, trying to follow them only for your other hand to shove his hips back down on the sheets, your fingers twisting nearly all the way out before ramming back in, curling in wickedly that seems to shut him up briefly as he catches a breath that ran away.

vox weeps, unable to do anything else as his claws rip into the mattress, his legs shake and tremble as though they weren’t practically crushing you before. he seems so fragile at this moment, yet you knew he could take much more.

he just didn’t deserve it.

he whines and screams at your touch, tears starting to fall down his pretty little face as the small amount of dignity he had seems to get lost, overrun by your torturous fingers and unyielding pleasure that shoots through his body like a current.

“mommy—ha—please jus—zz—t fuck me, oh, god!” his head drops back down onto the pillows as your fingers wrap around his weeping cock, making his back arch as he sobs out noncoherent pleads. it’s beautifully pathetic.

his legs, weak and feeble, were strewn across the bed with previous markings trailing up his inner thigh, his neck even more decorated with a necklace of red, the glimmer of sweat that covers his whole body making those bites shine similar to crude rubies.

his hands, now tied with his own wires behind the bed (he charges there before he goes to sleep) were sullied with crimson from the tightness of the metal around his wrist, but not as bright crimson as his eyes, which flashed with bright red hearts intermittently. it was always a pleasant surprise, and a sign that he fucking loved this. no matter how much he complained at the start, his eyes spoke the truth.

which is why now, as you replace your fingers with his favorite strap, you know he’s absolutely overjoyed as those beating hearts seem to overtake his pupils once more, pulsating with a hypnotizing spiral.

“finally—! oh—zzz—FUCK!” his last word is practically inaudible with the airiness in his voice, his tone starting to distort, yet, your pace was slow. shallow, even. tears of frustration started to form at the ends of his eyes, his whines more pitiful as he tries to fuck himself back on your strap, only to be stopped by your sturdy grip on his hips.

“what do you say, vox?“ you asked, irritation slipping into your voice. how could he still be so ungrateful? but, he catches on fast, looking up at you with round, glossy eyes.

“thank you! thank—thank you, mommy!” he stumbles out before you switch up your pace instantly, brutally ramming into him just how he likes it. it makes him unable to fathom he could have been known to be anything but yours, surrendering his well-built persona to you. all of it, for your praise.

“such a good boy.”

those words were priceless, but he always ends up trying to buy them with obedience. and even though he’s successfully checked out with such praise, they still have the same effect on him every time.

he shudders and wails with ruined pitch, his screen flickering in and out of error messages and his lovely expression as he gets his reward. there was just something so satisfying about earning your praise.

sure, he can buy pretty much anything, and yes, he can get people to kneel at his feet, but he can’t cry without shame, or indulge in his true desires of being completely wrecked with soft words and fast hips with anyone. no, it could only be you. and even if he practically has everything under his hands, he will always be greedy for your affection, begging, screaming for a chance to have it set his whole body ablaze with its foreign warm feeling.

it makes him lost. no matter how much intelligence vox has, he always finds himself unable to search his way out of the feeling of pure lust overtaking his senses when you fuck him with abandon, his need to keep face seemingly never being there in the first place as tears make him short-circuit, and pleads for you to never stop. he doesn’t want to leave this labyrinth of carnality. he wants to stay lost in it forever.

it’s why even after he cums with a high-pitch sob so loud you thought his volume module broke, he kept weeping incoherently as the lights flicker in the room, his legs practically numb. and finally, he looks up at you, sniffling and choking on his words he’ll pretend to regret the next morning.

“m-more. please, mommy—! AH!” his whole body jolts as you heed his wishes, leaving him to fall back into the pleasure that he craves. he babbles on and on with thank yous and nonsensical sentences, the night seeming to become never-ending even with daybreak inching closer and closer.

vox is unable to speak at the end, and god does everything fucking hurt. his arms ache and his legs are definitely going to be an issue when he has to walk. there are marks all over his skin that will never see the light of day, yet be around for plenty of nights.

but you both know he’ll come back for more. his greed is an unquenchable thirst, and your praise is the only fountain that seems to satiate it, even if only for a little while.

(i totally didnt forget to tag)

tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @mvskedxrtist @drlucichen @luciferspetduck

#hazbin hotel #dom reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel dom reader #sub hazbin hotel #bottom vox #sub vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox

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onestopfanficshop · 8 months

Text

parenthood hcs (141 + los vaqueros + könig x f!reader)

tbh i feel like this sucks but like... i've been working on it too long to scrap it lol 💀 i might come back and add more as my brain starts to solidify again so if you read it and come back to more stuff just pretend you don't see it. so uh... enjoy the hot mess under the cut i guess

ghost/simon riley

during the pregnancy/delivery

—the reality of you being pregnant didn’t really sink in until after you started showing. that’s when he was like oh shit this is actually real this is actually happening

—if he was a light sleeper before (which i’m absolutely sure he was), he’s practically awake with his eyes closed at night now. very sensitive to every single movement you make, whether it’s you slightly shifting in your sleep or you getting up to use the bathroom. can’t really “fall asleep” until he’s absolutely sure that you are.

—has the most horrific nightmares of all the things that could go wrong with you and the baby, and he always feels so guilty afterwards, as if he was somehow willing those things to happen. he never told you about them until years later either

—likes to whisper to the baby when he thinks you’re asleep and can’t hear (except you can, and it nearly brings you to tears)

—was anxious to let you leave the house, insisting on getting all the groceries and whatever else you needed so you wouldn't have to go outside

—is paying attention to and remembers all of the important medical info that the doctor tells you two at your maternity appointments, especially when pregnancy brain is getting the best of you

—simon can't remember the last time he's cried in his adult life, but when he gets to hold your baby for the first time and they latch their tiny little fingers onto his larger one, he certainly does.

random parenting moments

—mans can hear the baby crying before the baby is even crying. being a light sleeper + having incredible hearing is a goated combo. he'll race into the nursery and try to take care of whatever the issue is to avoid waking you up at all costs

—absolute hell to fucking no to the hot diggity dog no when it comes to corporal punishment. no ands, ifs, or buts. (for the record, i don't think any of these men would do this, but simon especially, given his past). and it'll be a freezing cold day in hell before simon raises his voice at your kids; he simply doesn't see the need to

—gives his kids washable markers and lets them color in his tattoos

—shooting my girl dad blaster at this man because i can. (*pew pew*) he's the best tea party attendant in the history of tea party attendants. doesn't matter that he can barely even fit one thigh on the tiny chairs at his daughters' kiddie princess table–he'll make it work!

—i can definitely see him having sons too, which i know would be really bittersweet for him. he's determined to be a better father than the one that life afforded him. seeing that brotherly bond between his sons would be really therapeutic for him :(

—very surprised that his kids find funny, mostly because he's got that dry sarcastic deadpan humor, as opposed to the slapstick-type humor that most kids at that age gravitate towards. he's certainly not complaining, though; he loves making them laugh. he swears his kids' laughter is one of the best sounds in the world.

soap/johnny mctavish

during the pregnancy/delivery

—honestly is surprised at himself for deciding to settle down (finally). he knew he wanted a family eventually but he wasn't expecting it to happen so soon. he certainly isn't complaining though, because he thinks you'd be an amazing mother

—is constantly talking to your belly, even before the obgyn said that your baby had formed their ears. very determined for your kid to have his accent so he’s talking to them 24/7 lmfao

—and he definitely believes that the baby can communicate back 😭

—"okay, if you're a boy, what'd you think of this name? kick twice for yes."

—gives the absolute best foot rubs. would literally put a trained masseuse to shame

—so ecstatic when he finally gets his kid in his arms. he finally gets to see the little human that he's been talking to for the past several months; literally a dream come true

random parenting moments

—does the thing where he falls asleep on his back with the baby lying on his stomach

—his kids' first words will probably be curse words, no thanks to johnny 💀

—i'm picturing three kids: two boys (possibly twins; idk he just seems like a twin dad. it makes sense in my head, okay?)

—very relaxed parenting style, with an emphasis on letting his kids "fail" on their own and learning from their mistakes. relaxed shouldn't be confused with permissive, though, because he will definitely put his foot down and be more assertive if need be

—always down to play video games with his kids

—finds it absolutely hilarious to kiss you in front of the kids because they all make the most exaggerated sounds of disgust

—teaches your kids how to swim, which eventually leads to them convincing him to put a pool in the house (it took a lot of convincing but johnny just can't say no to them)

—has his own designated "dad" chair in the living room and gets disgruntled if he sees someone else sitting there. but one time he came back to one of the kids curled up in his chair late at night, fast asleep. he couldn't bring himself to wake them up so he just covered them in a blanket

gaz/kyle garrick

during the pregnancy/delivery

—lowkey has a stronger nesting instinct than you lol 💀 constantly is cleaning the house not only for you, but because it makes him feel calm

—always willing to hold your belly for a few minutes (or however long you need) to relieve you of the weight of carrying a whole human inside of you for a while

—also adores talking to the baby through your stomach, and loves putting headphones on your belly to play them music

—down to try your craving combos with you. sometimes he like “this is incredible" and other times he's like "what is this monstrosity" lol

—when you guys were putting together the nursery you discovered that ky has an impeccable eye for interior design. most of the unique pieces of furniture and paintings in the nursery were picked out by him

—has the biggest smile on his face once he gets to hold his kid for the first time. like his face hurts thats how hard he's smiling

random parenting moments

—literally doesn't want to put that baby down. like at all 💀 you practically have to beg him to give you your daughter so you can at least feed her

"just let me hold her for 5 more minutes!"

"kyle, your daughter is going to starve if you don't give her to me!"

—i'm thinking two kids for kyle is the perfect number to him; gender doesn't matter to him :)

—tries to keep up with pop culture so he won't be called old by his kids (and fails)

—always down to game with his kids

—has a really hard time saying no to them 😭 if you weren't there to keep him in check, your kids would be so spoiled

—LOVESSS halloween. taking his kids costume shopping and taking them trick-or-treating is one of the highlights of his year. and he's always down to customize a costume, too. anything from buying a bunch of different pieces to make one look or sanding down some plastic armor and painting it to look weathered—he's so unbelievably creative

john price

during the pregnancy/delivery

—collects sooo many books for the baby. especially loves the soft cloth books that have all of the different crinkly textures

—absolutely cherishes that first trimester where you’re not really showing and he gets to keep the two of you to himself and away from the rest of the world

—"sternly" tells the baby to stop kicking their mum (aka you lol)

—always has a protective arm around you while you two are out and about. was absolutely shocked by how many strangers would try and reach out and touch your stomach unprovoked once you started to pop. most of them were women, so the most he’d do was give them a hard look. still hated it though 🙄

—helps you make a checklist for your hospital bag + packs everything for you with military-like efficiency

—so so gentle when he holds his baby for the first time. he was never sure if he would get the chance to even be a father so it's quite emotional for him

random parenting moments

—your babies will have the largest vocabularies ever thanks to john, who refuses to use baby speak with his kids. instead, he speaks normally, as if the baby can understand him perfectly, and the results are pretty amusing

"love, did you move the almond butter?" john calls to you from downstairs.

"i swear i didn't!" you call back from upstairs, busy with your morning routine.

"hmph." he plants his hands on his hips, turning around, only to be met by the blinking stare of your infant daughter.

"darling, did you see your mother move the jar of almond butter?" he asks her, arms crossing over his chest.

*cue unintelligible-to-others-but-perfectly-understandable-to-john infant noises from the baby*

"bloody knew it. love, our daughter is saying you moved it. and she doesn't know how to lie yet, so i have no reason not to believe her."

—this man is so girl dad coded it's insane. but i'd like to think he'd have one son; he'd possibly be the middle or youngest kid

—you and the kids love to play "hide the bucket hat" from dad. price puts on his grumpy old man act but he secretly loves it because it always ends up with him chasing you guys until you all collapse in a laughing heap on the carpet

—constantly dropping bad dad jokes like he's paid to do it 😭 kids are always looking at him with a mixture of pity, disappointment, and mild annoyance

"dad, i'm hungry."

"why hello, hungry. my name's dad."

"no, your name is john.

"...how do you know that 😐"

alejandro vargas

during the pregnancy/delivery

—always showing you off to LITERALLY everyone, especially his family

—always finds a way to bring up the fact that your pregnant in every single conversation with a stranger lololol

—if you're the first one in ale's family to be pregnant (which you very well may be because i headcanon him as the oldest child in his family heehee) prepare to be spoiled by his siblings and the rest of his family. you have enough gifted clothes for your kid to wear an entirely different outfit every day for a year i'm not even kidding

—very protective, but not in a controlling concerning way. it’s more so seeing you visibly pregnant with a ring that he put on your finger that gets him all riled up

—was driving like an actual mad man to get you to the hospital when you woke him up in the middle of the night and told him your water broke (and by "driving like a mad man", i mean he forgot to use his blinkers and ran one singualr stop sign lmfao)

—first time he got to hold his baby it was absolutely love at first sight. gives you the most tender kiss on the forehead to say "thank you"

random parenting moments

—if you have all girls he is SUCH a girl dad. i think out of all the boys, he's the one that i can say would 100% have all daughters. he's playing princesses, doing hair for school, letting the girls experiment with makeup on him, all the works.

—and he absolutely doesn't let those "oh you're trapped in a house with all of those girls poor you!" comments slide. like at all.

—"not trapped, just lucky." he always says (before glaring at the person once they turn around)

—tries so hard not to curse in front of his girls but fails 💀 swear jar is always full

—the idea that your girls can do and be anything they want is drilled in from day one. naturally, this means that ale is the biggest sports dad EVER. he's at every recital, every game, every showcase, every scrimmage– you name it, he's there if he can make it. whenever he can't be there, he's always doing two mandatory facetimes; a pep talk before the game, and a debrief after

—one non-negotiable? self-defense. signed up each of his girls for self defense classes when they each started middle school

—not overprotective by any means. i mean, he can definitely be protective at times, but he knows his girls can handle themselves (you two raised them, after all).

—takes saving for their quinces as seriously as saving for their college funds (as he should)

—secretly a huge disney fan. he's watching all the disney princess movies, pretending like he's doing it for his daughters, but he's really doing it for himself hehe. still whisper-yells everytime he watches snow white eat the poison apple 💀

roldofo “rudy” parra

during the pregnancy/delivery

—is literally the most gentle person with you ever and it’s so sweet :(( always willing to massage out any knots you have in your shoulders or neck

—does all your pregnancy exercises with you (even though he’s not the one delivering the baby lol) just so you won’t feel alone :)

—always down to cook whatever cravings you desire (or run out to the nearest grocery store or gas station to get them)

—he's already a pretty touchy person but it's amplified times 10 during your pregnancy. he can't keeps his hands off of you, especially your stomach

—his abuela is always on back, asking you if he's taking good care of you and scolding him if she's sees you so much as lifting a plate by yourself 💀

—when your baby was born, he was quite sensitive to the noises of the hospital, getting fussy and crying a bit whenever he heard doors closing and loud beeps and such. you noticed however, that when rudy was holding him whenever this happened, he never shushed him to keep him quiet. he would simply rock your son back and forth, whispering quietly to him about whatever was on his mind until the newborn would calm down. just witnessing this alone solidified the fact that you'd basically picked the perfect man to be the father of your children.

random parenting moments

—carries his kids everywhere when they're young, even when they can walk. he just loves holding them :(

—incredibly rational, even in the face of conflict. when your kids get to be teenagers and get into typical teenage trouble and whatnot, he sits down with you first to break down what happened and what an appropriate response would be. not a fan of reacting on emotion (which teenagers can make very tempting to do) , which is always appreciated by both you and the kids

—i think he'd have the biggest family out of all the boys; i'm thinking 4 at the very least, with more girls than boys

—takes birthday party planning seriously, even when they're little and won't remember it all

—lovesss cooking with his babies. he gets ‘em those little kiddie knives that are safe to use and teaches them the proper technique and everything

—very frantic whenever one of them gets sick. even if it’s the mildest headache or a slight upset stomach, he just hates seeing any of them in pain

—drop-off duty warrior. has a whole system in place to get all the kids into the car on time and he’s literally never been late. it’s honestly very impressive

—vicks vapor rub is the solution to everything. sore throat? vapor rub. headache? vapor rub. bad day? vapor rub. broken leg? vapor rub (jk) (not really)

könig

during the pregnancy/delivery

—if you have mood swings, könig has to try his absolute hardest not to panic right along with you. he knows that your hormones are giving you a hard time right now, so he really wants to be your rock through all of it (however, if you start crying out of nowhere, he'll probably definitely start panicking)

—once you start showing, he likes talking to the baby in german to "give them a head start" (his words not mine)

—also good luck with that delivery babes because that's gonna be a 10 pounder at LEAST 😭 high probability you're getting a c-section

—if there's any complications, especially with a c-section, best believe any shred of social anxiety is disappearing and he's running on pure adrenaline when he yells at tells the medical staff in the room that he refuses to watch you and his child die here

—was so thankful you two were both okay that his hands were shaking a little when he cut the umbilical cord

—holds his kid like they're made of glass because he's so big that he fears hurting them :(

random parenting moments

—when the kids finally get to the toddler stage, he's pumped. they can run now, and he absolutely loves chasing them. also the kids love to treat their dad like a tree, climbing him and dangling off his arms like he's a human swing, which has given you a mild heart attack more than once 😭

—loves reading to them every night before bed

—i’m thinking two kids for him; either a boy and a girl or two girls

—big fan of doing doing arts and crafts with them (your house is constantly covered in scraps of construction paper)

—also loves taking the kids to a local fairground where they can go on a bunch of rides, pet some animals at the petting zoo, and play games. könig is usually too tall to ride the rides comfortably (rip), but he doesn't mind. as long as the kids are having fun, that's all that matters to him!

—yearly trips to visit his mom and grandma in austria are an absolute must

—kids are always clinging to him during the colder months because he just radiates heat

—his homemade remedy: soup! the kids absolutely love the different soups that he makes and it always seems to make them feel better whenever they're under the weather :)

#könig x reader #john price x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #simon riley x reader #soap mctavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #rudy parra x reader #cod headcanons #onestopfanficshop

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abbyromanoff · 3 months

Note

hi!!! is it okay to request R (18) having a crush on her professor which is Nat (either 27 or like around 30s) then Nat heard about it because of the gossips so she confronts reader abt it although reader have the upper hand defending herself yet nat was able to pin her and they kissed—thats the last time they saw each other not until they had a reunion during reader's college years

sorry if this is kinda long😭

SEE ME AFTER CLASS

PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 781

WARNINGS: all are 18+ teacher x student relationship, professor x student relationship, kinda stalking, angst, fluff, and some heated moments yall

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

You were fucked, to say the least. You had never been called to stay after by a teacher, but here you stood, eyes shot wide, lips slightly agape as you nodded slowly to Ms. Romanoff’s request.

“You’re probably wondering why I had you stay after with me today,” You nodded once again, and she chuckled while leaning forward on her elbows, unconventionally pushing her breasts further together in your view.

“Well, you’re not in trouble, sweetheart.” She helped ease the tension, and your breath of release caused your eyes to flutter shut, your hand coming to your chest as you feared the worst.

“But, there is something I’d like to talk to you about. There seems to be a rumor lurking around the school, and with your popularity, it only took a short time to reach me.” She suddenly stood from her seemingly comfortable chair and placed herself on the edge of the desk in front of you, leaning down to place a hand on her knee as the other found your chin. While you were both of legal age, considering that you were forced to stay back in the fifth grade when your parents had to move halfway into the school year for your father's work, this was still wrong. You were a senior, she was your teacher. And even though you were near graduation with your final week approaching, you were still hefty about the consequences this action could have.

“Uhm, Ms. Romanoff,”

“Call me Nat,”

“I- I don’t exactly think that is appropriate, I don’t think any of this is appropriate.” You began to stand but were quickly forced back down with her incredible strength, and you nearly whimpered at the contact.

“Shh, baby, no one needs to know, okay? It’s just me and you in here; besides, aren’t you the one with that little crush on me?” Your eyes shot wide, your stance faltering as you failed to explain yourself.

“C’mon, all I’m asking is one little kiss before I have to see my favorite student go,”

And that’s all it was, at first. It started with a small kiss. Only once, never again. But then it came again, and her lips drew you in again and again and again. Up until your day on the podium where you thanked multiple people, her being one of them. That’s where you ended it.

When your parents waited in their car and everyone began piling out, you dragged her behind the school, crying through small pecks as you two said your goodbyes. You expected it to be your last. But then you walked into your fourth class on the second day of college, you were yet to have this class the day prior. It was fresh, the faces were all new, except the professors.

“Nat?” She turned suddenly hearing your voice, smiling widely when seeing you.

“I didn’t believe it when I saw your name on my roster, but it’s true.” She began rushing towards you, thankful for your early arrival. You put your hands on her chest to back her away, causing her to hold a confused raise of her brow.

“What is it? I know we ended things but- but I’m here, and so are you, we’re back together again.” You shook your head with a scoff, your gaze falling to the floor before she lifted your chin to look her in the eye, and goosebumps ran down your skin as you recalled the previous encounters just like this moment.

“Y/N, we ended things because you were going to college and we would be too far. So I moved, and I got a job here, I’ve had the skills and degrees to be a professor and now it’s all finally working out for the best.” She paused, brushing the hair out of your face before cupping your cheeks lovingly.

“We can be together again, Y/N, we don’t have to fear it. We’ll have to hide it for a few years, but that’s all. Outside of these doors, we can be whatever we want to be, I don’t care about the age difference or the looks or the judgement, I only care about you. I love you, sweet girl.”

“Y/N? Y/N!” Your head shot up in a hurry, your mind quickly investigating the surrounding area until you registered where you were.

“You keep falling asleep in my class, and I’m beginning to grow quite concerned,” You faced the older woman who had a small smirk plastering her lips. She leaned in a little bit closer, and you hoped it did not look so promiscuous to others.

“Please see me after class, honey, we need to have a chat.”

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paperbackribs · 3 months

Text

Demisexual Eddie who assumed he's straight by default so when Steve says his soulmate words he thinks it's a platonic match.

Steve Harrington looks a hair's breadth away from kissing him and Eddie doesn't know what to do about that.

He eyes him nervously as they linger inside Rick's boathouse; he can hear outside the faint sound of Robin telling Max that they'll drop her off with Dustin. The torch Steve carries shines a yellow light onto the pine floors, while the full moon illuminates enough of the room to see Steve's eyes intently trained on Eddie's face, flickering at moments to his lips.

Eddie clears his throat and shuffles his feet. The tension that had drained from him once he realised that Dustin and his friends were here to help rising again, reminding him of the jolt of shock when Steve had said his soulmate words by crying out for Eddie to wait wait wait as he rushed him with a broken bottle.

"So, uh, I think you should come home with me. My place is empty but for me and it'll be safer than hanging out here," Steve offers.

He glances at Eddie's hair, which must truly be bedraggled by this point after the amount of times he's clutched it in fear and anxiety. "You can clean up and get a meal too; you must be exhausted."

And it sounds like a really fantastic offer, but Eddie's worried about the slight sway in Steve's bearing, like he's close to swooping in to kiss Eddie when he's not even like that. It fuels the tension until Eddie blurts out, "I'm not gay."

"What?" Steve blinks, pulling back, but curiously Eddie doesn't feel any better for his withdrawal.

Nevertheless, he takes the moment to edge away, just slightly because he doesn't want the guy to think he's a bigot. It's just that he doesn't see Steve like that.

"Yeah, I mean, I said your words so I know we're soulmates..."

Steve looks down at his wrist, thoughtfully thumbing what are you doing here. "But you don't like guys?"

Eddie shakes his head gently, genuinely sorry in the face of Steve's confusion. "No, but that just means we're platonic, right?" A jitter of an old fear runs through him and he bites his lip against it, simply asking, "Is that okay?"

Steve's brow furrows and his eyes flicker to the car barely visible in the dark of the night outside. He exhales a long breath, "Sorry, I know I'm repeating myself here but it's a lot to take in. You're straight."

Eddie nods sympathetically. He knows what it's like to live on the fringes of what's considered normal, it must have been really hard for Steve to be gay in small town Hawkins. He wonders if all the rumours of him being a ladies man come from overcompensation or from the rumour mill running overtime.

Either way, it must have been hard for Steve to navigate when all he'd wanted to do is date boys. Probably find his gay soulmate too, Eddie thinks sadly.

"It's rare, but not impossible, right?" He frowns at his bicep where the words are hidden under his jacket, "Though I don't have two marks. Do you?"

Steve huffs a laugh as he rubs at his temple, looking like he doesn't know where to start. "Rare is right, but, yeah, two soulmates." He taps his chest, over the heart where the second mark must lay, and Eddie thinks that is only further proof. His romantic soulmate's words over his heart, what further evidence do they need.

He smiles, relieved for Steve even as he thinks that he'll need to unpack his own feelings over apparently not having a romantic soulmate. He's not sure it'll change much for him he mulls before he's distracted by the expression that crosses Steve's face, uncertainty falling to what looks like determination.

"Either way, it doesn't matter right now. What matters is getting you a safe place to hide. If we could find you through Family Video's records then the cops can't be far behind."

Dread is almost electric in his mouth at the thought, thinking of shouting voices and raised guns. Eddie nods jerkily, "Yeah, good point. Are you sure it's okay? Soulmates or not, you're taking a risk by harbouring the guy who looks like he killed the queen of Hawkins High."

The hardness in Steve's face breaks, softening like gentle rain. He touches the edge of Eddie's sleeve very carefully like he's trying to offer comfort without any skin contact, "You didn't do it and you deserve to not hide like a rat in the dark."

Steve looks around, noting the wet wood and the ever-present creaking of a structure over water. His nose scrunches, "Plus I don't know how you can take the algae smell, man. I'd be running towards my offer."

The tension inside Eddie falls, a gentle cascade like a piece of paper fluttering to the ground. "You're right, how could I live with myself," he says wryly, trying to hide how warmed he is by Steve's insistence.

"So you'll come?" Steve asks hopefully and Eddie nods, passing him to walk towards the car, "Let's get going, big boy."

more steddie fics here

#soulmates #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson

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mypoisonedvine · 9 months

Note

a thought i have after rewatching red eye: jack abducting you because you're the daughter of an important politician. as a way to show your father that you aren't safe, and to enjoy himself, he films himself forcing you to cum over and over again until you're just a whimpering mess.

oh you sick twisted little genius

warnings: kidnapping, ransom/bribery, forced orgasms/overstimulation, humiliation, bondage

"Please, just tell me she's alright," the man begged through the cracked and muffled audio of the phone call. "Tell me she's alive."

"Of course she's alive," Jackson promised, glancing over at you with a grin, "she's better than ever."

He almost got distracted by the sight of you, tied to the bed with the vibrator pressed against your clit. You'd been there for the better part of an hour, and you hadn't stopped shaking the whole time, screaming and sobbing into your gag-- but the puddle under you on the sheet spoke for itself. "C-can I talk to her?" your father asked.

"Oh, I don't think she wants to talk to you right now," Jackson purred, "she's... a little tied up at the moment. You can talk to her yourself once you do what I've asked."

"But I--"

He rolled his eyes and tossed the phone away, approaching the bedside slowly. He watched you for a moment, tears streaming from your eyes as you convulsed uncontrollably. "Ready to behave, sweetheart?" he asked, but you weren't able to respond anyways. He reached down and switched the vibe off, watching the way you stilled and started to catch your breath-- though he still caught you shivering with aftershocks for a moment as he sat down between your legs on the bed.

He bit his lip as he moved the vibrator away and set it aside, getting a good look at your soaked little pussy-- he couldn't help but reach and pull your lips apart and get a better look at that pretty hole, so desperate to be filled.

"I think we've finally fixed your attitude problem," Jackson noticed with a grin as you just laid there limply, letting him touch you. "And I bet you're extra sensitive now, right?"

He just lightly touched your clit, watching your whole body jump in response as your eyes went wide open. You groaned against the gag but he couldn't make out any words.

"Shh, it's alright, I'll leave that alone for now," he promised, starting to undo his trousers, "but I bet you can still come again just from being fucked."

You whined, trying to move your hips away with what little room you had, and he raised his eyebrows.

"Oh? You want this back instead?" he presumed, picking up the vibrator again. You shook your head feverishly, whimpering and starting to cry again. "Okay, if you're sure. I can leave you here for another hour, get some lunch-- or you can be a good girl for me."

You didn't react for a second, looking straight at him, and he reached up to hook his finger in the gag and pull it out of your mouth. "Please," you began, your voice a little hoarse, "please..."

"'Please' what?" he pressed.

"Please... fuck me..." you whispered.

He tilted his head, putting a hand to his ear. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"Fuck me! Please!" you screamed in frustration, finally learning the rules of Jackson's game. "I want you to-- I want you! Just, please please fuck me!"

He grinned and leaned down to the floor, picking up the phone where he'd dropped it-- still on the line. "You catch all that, daddy dearest?"

You were already flushed but you looked mortified then, and Jackson had to laugh at your expression. "You sick fuck," your father growled on the other end of the line.

"No rush, pops, she's having a great time," Jackson promised as you cried harder, "she may not even wanna come back once you've finished the job!"

He put the phone down again, pretty sure your dad was going to hang up and hold up his end of the bargain now-- but if not, there would be plenty for him to listen to.

"I knew you wanted it," he announced to you proudly, pulling his cock out and rubbing the leaking head right up against your hole. "Bet with how many times you've come I'll just slide right in..."

He was right about that, but you were still so tight inside-- he could even feel you still flexing just a bit after coming so much, your poor cunt still trying to cope with what he'd put it through. You whined as he filled you, but your back arched, too; of course a needy slut like you couldn't ever be satisfied.

"Fuck," he groaned, "I hope he takes his fucking time getting that money transferred... I want lots more time to play with you, sweetheart."

#jackson rippner x reader #jackson rippner smut #jackson rippner dark fic #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut

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seattlesellie · 9 months

Note

MORE ELLIE WITH A DADDY KINK I BEG OF YOUUU (ESP WITH THE STRAPPP)

you can be the boss ♥︎

cw: lil not proofread blurb, very bratty!reader, daddy kink (duh), brat tamer ellie, some spanking. as usual, mdni. don’t like don’t read <3

ellie’s been mean during patrol. she’s been mean and she’s been ignoring you and you’ve been ignoring her ignoring you and it’s all too fucking much.

you had been making out on the couch for about thirty minutes now, with an occasional intermission saved for aimless whining. ellie was tired now— of your whining, that is, and she manhandled you to sit pretty, right on top of her lap. ellie’s tongue started feeling like it was physically intertwined with yours now— like it has grown to be a part of your body. she swirls it around, and suckles on your pink muscle whilst grabbing on your hips hard. she’s restless, her body growing achy for you, and you can tell by the way her movements are becoming erratic. “no more… seriously— no more, babe” she huffs, gently tugging on your top. she wants it off, and she wants it off right now. you push your tits together to tease her, pretending to do it by accident. ellie stares at them hard, and a small chuckle escapes her lips. “you like being all brave? teasing me ‘n shit?”

“not teasing…” you whisper, swallowing a sly smirk. you move your head to the side, suddenly feeling embarrassed under her gaze, and ellie immediately grabs your chin with her index finger and her thumb. she forces you to look at her, right where she is. “you’re not?” she asks, her voice raspy and breathless. you shake your head, “nuh uh”

“let me see ‘em then… tease” she smiles, lovedrunk on you. ellie brings her hand up and tries to squeeze them together, just how she likes— but you’re quicker and you slap it away. seriously? she’s been nothing but mean. ellie gasps, and immediately laughs, airy and mocking. you think you could… overpower her? she scans her eyes from your lips to your tits to your clothed cunt, and her pupils grow twice in size. her eyes are darker now, too. “i just realized something” ellie snarks. she lets her hands rest on the couch, right by her sides. you’re unbelievably flushed, and your heart beats even faster then before— but you try and make sure you look as calm as you can. you raise your eyebrows… go on.

“you’re not a tease…”

you’re not?

your face softens, almost an angelic expression. calm and relaxed, you’d almost forgotten. she’s such a sweetheart.

“nah” ellie’s face moves closer to yours, and her lips seperate. her bottom one is plush and it’s chaste and you think she’s going to kiss you so you pucker up your lips, but she moves right back and chuckles under her breath. you pout and it’s so sweet, that ellie wants to give you that kiss even though she knows you don’t even come close to deserving it. “not a tease…” she moves her hands, and they lay in the air for two slow seconds.

“a brat” oh.

they both land on your ass cheeks with a SMACK!

you wince and cry out, a soft sob of her name— and ellie bites her lip and does it again.

your eyebrows furrow together, eyes shutting closed and ellie thinks it’s adorable. she soothes the pain by rubbing her palms on your ass, and plants a small, wet kiss on your neck. you’re breathing heavy, and you’re offended— “m’not a brat”

ellie nods her head, are you really not? “then be good, and show me—“ you cut her off and shake your head from side to side. you can’t even make eye contact with her anymore, she was mean and you’re determined and she ignored you and she doesn’t deserve it.

“not showing you” you whisper, and ellie’s tsk’s and and her hand barely soothes the pain now, it’s grasping and clawing where she left a mark. “baby…” she coos, and ellie almost pouts. it’s a fake one— though, because when you roll your eyes, she smacks your ass again, and makes sure to buck her hips upwards so you feel it harder. “ellie!” you wail, but ellie doesn’t care, ellie smacks it once more. she grants you a moment to calm down, as your chest heaves up and down. it still stings, but you’re still stubborn, so you whisper in her ear. “you don’t own me, ellie”

it’s an absolute lie.

ellie knows its a lie, but lets you finish your meaningless sentence.

“you’re not my…” ellie bucks her crotch into you again, making you whimper right into her ear and she shudders. everything feels too tight on her body, the room has somehow become more humid and she feels choked up, she needs to fuck this attitude out of you. ellie pretends to sigh, but really, she’s just grasping for some air. “not your what”

“not my…” you bite your lip, and an auburn hair strand falls out of her ponytail. you yearn to pull it so it hurts her but that’ll truly just be pushing it.

“you wanna get smacked again? speak up” ellie warns. your brain is filled with chants of “nonono, don’t wanna get spanked again!” so you consider saying it, loud and clear.

“you’re not my…” you whisper, making her wait for it. ellie feels like she’s going to explode. you can’t see her— but her freckled cheeks are flushed and her jaw is tightly clenched.

“daddy” you breathe out shakily. the word seems to purely lay loose in the air for a few seconds. “you’re just not, so”

ellie thinks it’s hilarious. seriously, say it again.

she laughs, and you can feel her abs tighten as she does so and you feel embarrassed. “come again? didn’t really catch you” she mocks, and her voice is sickly sweet now. you really are just purely funny.

“i said you’re not… uh, my… daddy” you stutter, and ellie chuckles again. you feel like burying yourself deep inside the ground. suddenly, she picks you up, and places you on the couch where you land with a slight bounce.

and now you’re just confused.

“oh yeah… okay” she begins to walk further away towards the wooden stairs with her hands in her pockets.

“wh… what?” you huff, offended. she just threw you on the couch.

“m’not picking you up, you’re not getting that treatment today” her voice echoes as she strayes away. you’re… what?

you don’t know what to do, you’re baffled.

“get yourself off of the couch…” she points, and you stare at her like you’re dumb.

“and come upstairs” now, she’s just talking to you like you’re stupid.

“or don’t…” she rolls her eyes, and crosses her hands over her chest.

you practically sprint.

when ellie has her strap dick deep inside, you’re ever so close, and ellie bottoms out. again. it’s the 4th time in a row, and she’s not letting you cum. fat tears are smeared all over your face, and your lips are quivering. it’s simply unfair.

a thin, sheer string of your own sweet nectar hangs off from her cock, and she twists it around her finger and licks.

“what’d you say earlier?” ellie scratches her neck, and slaps her strap on your pussy three times, and you sob each with each smack. you can’t even speak and she knows that you can’t. still, she insists. you whimper quietly, and you let go of your hands that have been gripping your feet for all this time— because ellie won’t let you put them on her shoulders. when she said you’re not getting that treatment today— she meant it. “keep your hands…” she warns, and grabs them so they keep pulling on your feet. you’re spread open completely. “up there”

“not ‘f — ‘fair” you cry out once more, and ellie considers whispering a saccharine praise; “it is fair though, and you’re doing so good” in your ear, but she refrains. “tell me what you said earlier… something like… m’not your… daddy, or something?”

“mhm” you squeak, and ellie plunges herself deep inside— it slips, you’re so fucking wet. you gasp, and ellie does too. she grabs both of your hands, and gives them a kiss before pulling them up and sitting them on top of your head. she lets you rest your legs on her shoulders because she knows what going to happen next.

“m’not?” she grunts, “not your fuckin’ daddy?”

just say it. just fucking say it— you know she is. your whole body trembles, brain growing into mush.

she starts moving inside, ever so slowly.

“y… you’re ‘m ‘my…”

she fucks into you faster.

“oh! daddy!”

ellie grunts, and ellie’s about to cum. “again” she demands, and it comes out choked up and needy.

“daddy…. you’re my— oh god, my daddy”

yeah, thats what she thought.

#𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 anon 🎀#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams fic #ellie williams blurb

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