#but he choose to be right up against his boys

[moonstruckme]

Hiiii!! I saw that you were asking for camp counselor! James and I got an idea, what if reader and him weren’t yet together but they were both pinning on one another and he was just telling the kids how adorable the reader is and the kids thought that they would be so good together and were so happy when they finally got together!!!

Thanks for requesting sweetheart!

camp counselor!James x fem!reader ♡ 751 words

You spot James before he does you, holding court among a circle of campers enjoying their free time after lunch. The sun beats down on the unshaded bit of grass in front of his cabin, but James doesn’t seem to mind. He’s all loose and smiley, skin glowing in the afternoon light and hair that hasn’t been cut since May curling just above the rims of his glasses, meanwhile you can already feel the tickle of sweat forming on your skin. 

He looks up as you approach, grin widening the second before his face smooths into seriousness. “Careful, guys, we’ve got a wily one coming to join us,” he tells the kids. “Keep your cards close.” 

You roll your eyes, sitting down with your legs crossed beneath you between a couple of girls from your cabin. “What are you playing?” You ask them, and yet James answers anyway. 

“Blackjack.” You look up at him, and he smiles. Almost bashfully, like he’s unable to help himself. “Crazy eights,” he concedes, setting down his hand to deal you in. “Here, we’re just starting.” 

“James,” one of his boys whines, “we’re halfway through.”

“What harm does it do you, Cal?” he asks. “You’re set to win anyway.” 

“It’s okay,” you promise, “James is allowed to set me up for failure if he likes.” 

James pretends to be appalled, making the kids laugh, but he can’t keep it up for long before he’s smiling back at you. You like doing this with him, allying together. It feels like you’re in on some sort of secret, though you’re not sure what that might be. 

“It’s probably because he fancies her,” one of the other boys whispers to Cal in a not-so-low voice. 

You do your best to keep your eyes on your cards and your feelings off your face, but you feel a heat that has nothing to do with the sun creeping up the back of your neck. 

“Shush!” One of your campers, Mary, elbows the other boy sharply. “You’re so loud.” 

You don’t dare sneak a glance up at James, but when one of the girls goes, “Wait, what?” and the circle erupts in giggles, you can’t help it. He’s grinning at you, that us-against-the-world look again, like kids, right? You hope your answering smile looks half as relaxed. 

“You guys are worse gossips than my mum, you know that?” The kids’ laughter worsens as he feigns an exasperation that’s easy to see through, setting his hands on his hips. You pointedly do not notice how nicely the pose displays his biceps and forearms. “This is why I don’t tell you any real secrets.”

The boys from James’ cabin look genuinely upset. You feel a bit bad for them even as relief washes over you, tinged with a bit of disappointment.

“It wasn’t a secret?” the boy who’d spoken asks. 

James gives him a sideways look. “Hate to break it to you, mate, but look at her.” Blood rushes to your face as the kids gasp and ooh conspiratorially at each other almost too loud for you to hear him saying, “I’m only human.” 

You feel no better than the kids when the first response that rushes to your lips is shut up, but you choose to take your own advice, rolling your eyes like you think he’s joking despite the light and undeniable sincerity in James’ tone. Butterflies crowd your stomach.

“Y/n, are you gonna be his girlfriend?” one of the girls from your cabin asks, grinning ear to ear. 

“Um, it’s not quite so simple—” 

“Terrible!” James exclaims, looking around the circle with a scandalized expression. “You’re all terrible. I haven’t even asked her anything! You’re going to kill your counselor, and what then? You think the next one will let you play in her hammock?” 

“We’re not allowed to do that anymore,” another of your girls says sulkily. 

James looks to you, and you shrug, sheepish. “I got caught. They said it wasn’t safe.” 

“Whatever,” James blazes onward, “the point is, who will I have to talk to if you kill her? Be considerate, guys. Plan ahead.” 

“James,” you plead, very nearly on the brink of actual death, you’re sure. 

“And that,” he says promptly, stacking three fives and holding up his hands empty, “is how you win at crazy eights.” 

The kids erupt in shouts, pointing fingers and throwing down their cards, and James sends you a wink. 

You think you need to take a dunk in the lake. 

#camp counselor!james potter #james potter au #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x you #james potter x self insert #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter scenario #james potter drabble #james potter blurb #james potter one shot #james potter oneshot #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #the marauders #marauders era #hp marauders #marauders x reader

[muchlovekatia]

✧ ˚ · . "𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔." — theodore nott

. . theodore nott x

reader ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

SYNOPSIS: you are a good friend. it is just a favor that you need. if only theodore weren't so uncooperative.

⋆·˚ ༘ * 🫐

warnings! :

smut!! ,, mdni ,, oral sex ,, fingering dead dove don't eat ,, swearing .

"do you think it would work.. if i touched her like this?"

.ೃ࿐ 🎞️

〰️

THEODORE NOTT'S dormitory smells of cigarette smoke and light citrus. the scent he wears on his clothes, his skin, his gaze, his breath, as you've always observed. it's the first thing you notice when you invite yourself in without bothering to knock, without even pausing outside of his door, the first thing that has never failed to make you question whether you truly hate him or not.

but the boy sitting at his desk chair, toying with a pen that he lightly touches to his lip, reminds you just why you do. theodore's back is to you, therefore you cannot actually see him, his long legs spread and his eyes directed out the slightly-open window. he quickly looks to the door at the first creak in it's swing, quickly relaxes when he realizes it's you. but you are just as tense as you were walking up. he wears a navy blue shirt, buttons at the top undone, face contorting from question, to neutrality. slightly unfazed, he turns back to the window. "change your mind about that offer, l/n?" the offer was a quickie. yes, this is why you hate him.

keeping your face void of emotion even in your state of mixed annoyance and trepidation, you clear your throat, walking fully in and shutting the door lightly behind you, but staying shy against it still. you are hesitating to say the words. to stall would be to show your utter nervousness, but you also can't just dive into the topic all together, right? at the same time, you know what you need to do. if it's to be a good friend, you will face the reprimand, the teasing. "that will remain a no, nott."

you hear him huff a small laugh, the clicking of his pen against his desk pausing for a few moments, before he swivels his turning chair and faces you. like some king on a throne, addressing a peasant. you keep your irritation at a minimum, making sure you look just as cool and collected as he does. "well? are you going to tell me why you're here, then? i was under the impression you hated me. showing up at my dorm says otherwise."

he holds a look of mischief on his face you want so badly to slap right off. instead, you dig your nails into the meat of your palms, inhale. "trust me, this is the last thing i want. but.."

his brows raise.

"i... i'm here—" stuttering. big no, "—because.. i am in need.. of something... rather specific."

"are you?" his lips quirk up into the grin you know oh so well. "you have me intrigued."

don't shift. don't breathe. don't move. you have the authority here. right? don't you? force the words out, if worst comes to worst, even when your brain is screaming at you to run, even when you know what this will come to. "i need.. a favor, if you may." this has that stupid grin spreading even more, a huffed laugh escaping his lips. you grit your teeth. no, this is you being a good person. don't get mad. "my friend... she seems to have taken a.. liking to you. alexia. the blonde one. i'm sure you know her."

"has she?" he says humorously, tilting his head slightly back. and fuck, you just shifted. focus on the citrus.

"don't act oblivious to it, nott. i think we both know—"

"choose your words carefully, l/n. you want my help, don't you?"

yes, you do. automatically, your mouth closes. maybe he's the one with the authority here. the spread of his legs, the way he loosely holds his arms, the smile on his lips says so anyway.

swallowing and pausing a moment, you make yourself calm down before starting up again. "she.. hasn't told me explicitly, of course. but as her friend, i'm obligated to know these sorts of things. so i know she at least.. likes you. a little. so, i think it would do you both quite well if you gave her what she wants."

theodore, of course plays the role of oblivious so well. he looks more engaged by the syllable you form, more convinced with each breath you take. to you, he looks his usual self. "and what might that be?"

how annoying can he get? you bite the inside of your cheek, shifting on your feet. "i don't know. maybe.. show a bit of interest in her yourself? or even just... smile at her? compliment her? anything that doesn't involve mocking her to get back at me right in front of her." yes, he'd approached you and her a week before, and already, you knew something would go down. laughing at her for screwing up her potion in class, though? that wasn't what you expected at all. you were witness to the look of utter devastation on her face immediately after. "i think it would be in both of your best interests to just give her what she wants."

nott's brows raise slightly. he tilts his head to the side—such a small gesture, but speaking such measures—and leans forward, pen still in his hand, resting his elbows on his knees. "us both?"

and if you weren't nervous then, you are now. the topic... of sex.. or, rather, romantic intentions... with your enemy? it has your legs itching to run far far far from this room, has your hands begging to fidget and twist and turn. but no, you keep them steady, look at him with those cool eyes. "it's no secret, nott, your body count. at least, the girls you fuck don't keep it one."

now, he has the audacity to smile. his lips pull over his teeth in a full blown grin, and he runs his tongue over them, so perfectly handsome in the incandescent glow of his lamp. your thighs squeeze together unintentionally.

"ah, yes. i suppose you're right." he leans back again, lifting his pen back to his lip. "okay, in that case, that task doesn't seem that bad.. but.." he pauses. for effects, you assume, "i wonder.. how should this concern me, if you hate me as much as you claim?"

and he has a point.

theodore is amused by your jitteriness, you know, having to even dabble in the romance topic with him, your enemy, and for some reason, it's not making you angry. but you don't want to discuss that, even. it is not helping your case at all. "look, i ask of you this small favor, just once. you don't even have to like her, go out with her.. if you could just— be nice, at least? for merlin's sake, you made fun of her clumsiness right in front of her just to get on my nerves last week. you know how much she likes you, theodore." you exhale deeply. "so just give her what you both want. for me."

this seems to amuse him further. nott sure does like to toy with you. he stares at you a moment. "is that a command?"

you inhale sharply, tensing. "no."

theodore squints his eyes slightly at you, his head cocking to the right. "mhm.. and if i... help you... do i get something in return?"

oh lord. you grit your teeth. "of course not. i am not going to pay you to lead my friend on. if you are going to do it, if you are going to be kind, you need to want to. that's the whole point. know, though, if you keep up the teasing act around her, or to her, i swear on all that is good that i will never speak to you again. not even to yell or shout or fight you. you'll just look stupid, following after me, mocking me, knowing you won't get an answer."

his lips part into a more toothy smile, and he breathes a short laugh. "not a command. a threat."

confidence restored, you straighten and push back your shoulders, pride gleaming in your eyes. the last thing you expect is theodore drawing himself out of his seat, into a stand, and staying by the desk. "well, surely, i don't want that, do i?" he quips, shaking his head. "to look stupid?"

when he takes a step forward, you feel everything in you halt. your blood, your heart, your thoughts..

"okay, so say i did help you. you think this would work? this.. flirting? you think i'll sympathize with your case just this once, don't you, y/n?" he's drawing nearer. with each step, you feel your skin tighten around your body more and more. "so tell me, what could i do to help, hm? what could you possibly want me to do with your dear friend, y/n? touch her? kiss her, maybe? fuck her? is that what you want from me?" you refuse to budge. well, your body refuses, paralyzed with fear and trepidation.

your stomach is twisting and turning, and the evidence of your nerves are shown through the red on your cheeks. everything in you tells you to run as he stops a few inches before you, reaching out and skimming his knuckles across your arm. your skin ignites beneath his touch, butterflies dancing merrily in your stomach. "would this work, y/n? touching her like this?" he asks, his eyes rising from his hand, to your own.

in your hazy, slightly horrified state, you stammer out, "probably." the last jab at him using the last of your confidence. your cool demeanor is completely gone now. "whatever you usually do works— works a charm."

your whole body is alert yet relaxed at the same time, sick, horrendous desire coursing coursing coursing through you. theodore voices a short chuckle, and in his proximity, you feel it fan out across your face. the smell of cigarette smoke rides his tongue. "oh, but i'm sure you know exactly what this.. alexia would want from me. at least give me the benefit of your advice.."

now, his hand rises to your face, fingers brushing against skin so sweetly it would pass as the caress of a lover. but nott is no romantic. this is horrible, twisted lust. not attraction. surely, right? "tell me, y/n. is this how i should handle her? so gently? should i look into her eyes as i do you? should i hold her face in the way i hold yours?"

your throat is constricting and contracting, heat is gathering in the spots of flesh he grazes with his nimble fingers. you are utterly ruined, unraveled, ravished before him, but there is still some left of you. could he undo the rest? "i don't know," you somehow manage to choke out, eyes darting to his lips, because as you speak, his dart to yours. there is something wrong with your voice. it's high, and pitchy, and so obviously laced with want you don't know how you're holding up. theodore seems to be thinking the same thing.

he does not care.

he leans in, down, his hand slipping to your ear and tucking away your hair, and his lips press oh so benignly to your lobe, that you almost don't feel it at all. you do feel the words he says next though. they are life and death and reincarnation against your skin. "do you think it would work.." he kisses you there again. "...if i touched her like this? do you think it would seduce her?"

all of you is alight. yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes. yes. it would. because it's working right now. "theodore," you say strictly, almost pulling away. you can't. you don't want to.

"y/n. give me an answer."

and is this how all the woman he beds feels? in the moments leading up to the shedding of clothing? do they also feel this alive, but also so dead? and even the thought of the other girls he's fucked cannot stop you from wanting this want to because something more. you can't remember to hate him, even when it's so obviously there in your mind. your desire is blaring brighter and stronger. it is much more tempting. it always has been, hasn't it?

"if i touched her like i touch you, do you think she'd like it?"

so you say what you know you shouldn't. "yes."

and what a word. what a fucking word. because it is one syllable, and three letters, and it doesn't even mean a lot at all. but it is what has theodore pulling away from the whispers of your hair, staring into your eyes like you just harnessed the stars and offered it up as a christmas present. it is what, in mere seconds, has his lips on yours, and his body against your own, and his hands shoved into your hair, and your back against the door.

your body moves on command. theodore's mouth is soft, supple, but he uses it in such a harsh way. this. this this this this this.

his hands roam everywhere all at once, as if they can't feel enough of you. they skim your waist, up your torso, fly to your jaw... there is a slight furrow in his brow. you are his muse. you are the concentration of his force.

and his tongue is prodding your lips, and prying open your mouth, and exploring exploring exploring exploring. fuck you're wet. have you ever been this damn wet? heat is pooling in your core, aching to be touched by the same fingers he's used to mock you. you're moaning into his mouth, muffled by his sweet movements, and the door you're pressed against is no match for his intensity.

"theodore..." you sigh when he pulls away, hastily admiring the mess he's made of your lipgloss. he tilts his head and licks the remnants off, and it's the hottest fucking thing you've ever experienced. you can't help but move yourself against him in your desire.

at that, he lets out a low groan, throwing his head slightly back. "fuc— tell me again— what you always say. say— it again," he whispers breathily, his words short and stammered.

brow furrowed and eyes closed, you don't even think to try and guess. "w— what?"

"that you hate me." his voice is perfectly hoarse. "tell me that you hate me again."

you're pulled slightly from your pleasure, forcing your gaze on him. god, he's so beautiful, your lip product smudged on his face, his hair mussed. when has he ever been this beautiful? or has he always been? why have you never really noticed? he's kissing your neck, your jaw, sucking at your skin, and you say the words with such disregard, but such intensity, you know they aren't real. "i hate you."

and he's kissing your lips again. harder. harder and harder. so fucking hard, you're scared your lips and tongue will be bruised by the morning. "i hate you i hate you i hate you i hate you—" you repeat over and over again into his hair as he nips and licks, hands tangled in his hair, as if reciting a spell, a mockery of the school work long forgotten. he makes a sound like a grunt, and suddenly, he's pulling you off the door by the waist and pushing you onto his bed, crawling over you, his lips never once leaving your body. "i hate you so much, it's all i can think about sometimes."

and his grip on your hips tighten until it's painful in that sick, pleasurable way. then, he's kissing down your jaw, sucking and nipping the whole way, like he can't get enough. because he can't. your hands find themselves in his hair, pulling, tangling, squeezing, as you moan out into the warm, citrusy air. "this is a bad idea..." his lips end up on your collarbone, biting into the bone. you arch your back into his touch, wanting more.

"i know." his hand trails down your torso, then under your tank top, feeling the cloth of your bra underneath. and his voice is so raspy and breathy, you question if you ever truly hated him at all, like you always liked to say you do. this doesn't feel much like hate. this doesn't even feel like dislike. "fuck, y/n."

and it's all too fucking much. "theodore— fu— please.."

he's running his hands along the plains of your breasts through your bra, and it's everything all at once. he looks up at you with those dead eyes, studies your face. "yea? you want this? you want my cock?" and he presses a kiss to your collarbone.

when your only answer is a moan, though, he's leaning back up to your face and retracting his touch from beneath your shirt, grabbing your jaw and forcing your eyes on his. his thumb presses against your lips, forcing your mouth open, and hooking on your teeth. "use your words, y/n."

in your haze, you nod at the same time you breathe, "yes, please, theodore. want it— s— so bad.."

at that, he's smiling, straightening, pushing your shirt over your head and throwing it who knows where. he leans back into a kneel to admire your breasts, before sinking back down and trailing sloppy kisses from your neck, to the hem of your bra. you mewl and whimper, hands gripping his hair, as his hand explores, sinking to the clasp and quickly undoing it. when he's pulled off the skimpy cloth, he wastes no time latching his lips to the peaked bud of your nipple, licking and nipping gently. you arch your breasts into his face, crying out as a new wave of pleasure hits. his hand gently travels to your other boob and pinches your nipple, palming the soft flesh.

"so fucking beautiful—" he whispers softly, pulling back to admire you again. with your head thrown back and your brows furrowed, such a look of pure desire twisted into your face, you might just be the most beautiful thing on earth. he can't help but lean forward and kiss you messily again. "god, y/n."

and you can't remember a time where your name on his tongue was anything close to annoying or irritating. he pulls away. "fuck me, theo—" you stammer out, looking at him with such lust, voice almost like a whine, and perhaps it's the nickname, that has him halting slightly, that has him hovering silently over you, searching your eyes, like he might need to hear the words again to confirm, before reaching down and quickly unbuttoning your pants, shoving his hand inside without even bothering to pull them down a bit. either way, you're not complaining. you throw your head back when his finger circles your clit through your panties, pressing ever so slightly yet eliciting moan after moan from you.

"so wet.. you're fucking soaking. is all this for me, baby?" he whispers, watching your face as his fingers toy and play, pulling the fabric aside and teasing teasing teasing. you buck against his hand, desperate for pleasure.

"y— yes! mhmm— fuck—" you choke out, nodding your head rapidly and stupidly along. a smile ghosts across his lips, and the look on his face—if you could see it—would tell you he's feeling like the luckiest man alive. he looks down at where his hand is touching you, retracting it and studying the glistening liquid on his fingers.

"shit," you hear him utter, forcing your eyes to where he's assessing, and the sight has you mewling for more. when his gaze meets yours, he looks utterly lost in desire. "you're driving me crazy, l/n." he drops his hand to the hem of your pants, stare still fixated on your eyes, and drags your jeans and panties down down down your legs.

watching it feels like reading a poem. you throw your head back as cold air hits your soaking pussy, whining shamefully. but his eyes are still on yours, watching, as his finger lightly begins tracing the line of your slit. a gasp, your body tensing. the "theo.." that falls from your lips has him growing harder than he's ever been, and yet, he quietly just teases your entrance, running his digit up and down until you're begging, clenching around open air.

"please, theo.." you plead, meeting his eyes. they look up at you from between your legs, and it is a sight that could make you release then and there. you squirm, a mewl leaving your lips.

and that is his cue. he shoves two fingers inside you without warning, curling them and pumping then in and out of your soaking pussy faster than your brain can comprehend what's happening, while his thumb traces your slit. you choke on a moan, your back beaming off the bed, your mouth falling open. "shit—! theo— oh god—!"

his fingers working at you, theodore gives a curse, studying your pretty pussy. "so tight.. how m'i gonna fit, hm?" he mutters to himself, looking back at you and almost bucking against the bed at the sight. damn, you're so fucking beautiful. he leans back up, kissing and biting down your body as his fingers abuse your cervix. your slick wets his hand, running down his palm, and you moan and mewl and beg, breathing heavily, while he murmurs and blows against your skin.

"i know, i know, baby," he whispers into your neck, trailing sloppy bites over your body until he meets your clit. he retracts his finger, and you whine desperately, thinking he's teasing you, but then, his tongue is licking a stripe up your pussy and his thumb, spreading you open. you cry out all over again, throwing your head back, your fingers finding his hair and tangling themselves in, pushing his face closer. your thighs wrap around his head as he spears his tongue inside you, lapping at your wetness like it's his last meal on earth. "taste— so good, baby.." he speaks between licks.

the sound of your cries and wet licking is all you know right now. your back is arching off the bed over and over again with each delve inside you. all while he stares straight at the glistening plains of your face, screwed in desire, mouth open around all your moans. he keeps a hand on one hip to hold you steady, and one above your pussy, his thumb toying with your clit.

"theo theo theo theo," you repeat in the same way you promised falsely that you hated him moments earlier, grinding yourself on his face. he hums as he licks, and it sends vibrations through your core, his name growing louder and louder with each passing second. "fuck, theo! fuc— ahh—!"

and this should last forever, his tongue lapping and lapping and spearing inside you, his eyes on your face as you take it like he always dreamed you would. his lips latch around the bud at the top of your clit, and it has your legs shaking around his ears, a curse choking out of your throat as you realize you're almost at that edge. almost. there. "i'm gonna— fuck— theo— cumming—!"

and he pulls away.

almost immediately, your pleasure halts. without his tongue, your orgasm is failed, nothing. your movements still. you go quiet. everything goes quiet. confused, frustrated, angry. that's what you are. the magic is gone. you're back to earth, and it is much bleaker than you remember. "what the fuck—?" and when you look down, theodore is standing up, wiping your juices from his face and licking them clean off his fingers. "theo—"

and you think maybe he's going to start again, when he climbs back over you, kissing his way from your collarbone, to your jaw, your fingers confusedly tangling into his hair again. his teeth latch onto the lobe of your ear, tug, and let go, and then.. "tell me, y/n, do you think your dear alexia would like that?"

and quiet ensues, and shock mars onto your face, your lips parting, your eyes going wide, and your blood goes dead cold. nott, with a couple of words, has just ripped a rug from beneath your feet. and you're left on the cold, hard ground, searching for words. and he hovers over your ear like that a moment, all lost, shivers running down your bare spine that was once bounding off this very bed, his bed, and then he's pulling off of you and standing at the edge of the mattress, staring at you with that smug fucking look on his face.

"we'd better hope, hm?" are his last words. and he's gone.

.

for my book girlys, yes, this was inspired by THAT scene in the wicked king (holly black) because CARDAN AND JUDE ARE SOSOSOOSDBDHHEBE 😻😻

go read the cruel prince if you haven't yet!!

#harry potter #theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x slytherin!reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #katiasworks #theo nott fic #theo nott fluff #theodore nott fluff #theonottsmut #theo nott rec #theodore nott fic #📄:: katia's masterlist #💼:: katiasworks #theodore nott smut #theodore nott fanfiction #muchlovekatia #theodore nott fanfic #theodore

[callsign-relic]

Panty stealing 🧐

Panty stealing with bots youd never expect 😏

Like imagine Ultra Magnus finding his human crush’s underwear and is so conflicted. He wants to, no needs to, return them but god they’re used and smell just like them. He quickly stashes them away for use around his spike later then guiltily trying to scrub his transfluid stains out of them but there is no hope in getting that out. So now he has to choose between keeping them (and most definitely using them again repeating the cycle) or returning suspiciously stained panties to his crush

Rung finding his crush’s underwear and immediately stashing it away out of embarrassment. The guilt he feels for stealing their undies but he kind of gets off on that feeling too. The whole taboo of it all kind of excites him and he ends up keeping them in his desk drawer. When you come to visit him just goofing around with your bestie Rung completely unknowing to the transfluid stained panties he has in his desk drawer

Megatron finding his crush’s underwear and not knowing how to go about returning it. How bad would it look for mr “let’s bring our war to earth and murder some humans about it” to have the only human on the Lost Light’s underwear. Him fiddling with the fabric while writing down right nasty poetry about his crush. Him sniffing his little human’s underwear as he falls into recharge and wakes up with his spike pressing against the inside of his modesty panel

Thank for coming to my being gross ted talk 🧎

Omgggdhhc these scenarios fit them all so well, especially since they’re the mechs you’d least expect to do it. The Rung one especially, I could never imagine him doing something like that but the way described here yeah I see it AHDGDH. Also mngnfhf megatron sniffing the human’s underwear as he falls asleep,, maybe it’s the scent kink enjoyer in me but hoo boy

#relic answers #valveplug

[hazbinfallinginaspiral]

Could you give us more Retro and Vox NSFW? Please I am begging ya!

"Hey, kitten?" | asked, pulling on his leash.

He whimpered and moaned softly, eyes wide and pleading as he tries to focus on my face. “Yes, my love? Anything for you...”

"I've been teasing you for a while now, haven't I?" | asked, tilting my head to the side. "I think you deserve a reward for being such a good kitty."

He nodded eagerly, eyes shining with excitement and anticipation. He'd been such a good kitten for me and he wanted nothing more than to be rewarded by me. “Y-yes, please! I've been good, right?”

"Mhm." I said, pulling on his leash again. "Come here for me, and tell me what you want."

Without hesitation, Vox crawled closer to me, his chest pressed against the leash as he panted softly. “I want you...to touch me, to fuck me, to make me yours. I need your voice, your face...l'll do anything for you.”

"Good kitty," | said, scratching his ears lightly.

He let out a soft moan, arching his back in pleasure as I scratched him. “I'm a good kitty… good kitty… I’m your good kitty…. You can trust me with anything.”

"Anything, hm? I can trust you to fuck me?" | asked, tugging on his leash. "Can you do that for me, kitten?"

His eyes widened even further, ‘pupils’ dilating with desire and need for me. The small details in his expression like that, even with his Tv head, were always so cute. He nodded vigorously, drool beginning to form at the corners of his mouth. “Yes! Yes, anything for you. I can do anything, I'll fuck you senseless if that's what you want.”

"Good boy!" | said, scratching his ears for a moment. I then tugged gently on his tail, once, twice, then ran my fingers along it. "I'd like that now, please."

With a loud whimper and a wriggle of his hips, he followed my tug, moving to position himself at my entrance. His tail flicked in anticipation as he asked, breathlessly, “Is this how you want me? Bent over for you, ready to please...”

"I don't think that matters tonight," | said, taking off his leash. I kept his collar on him. "I'll let you choose how we do this, since you've been so good."

Vox's eyes widened again, at the freedom and trust I’d giving him. It wasn’t just that, either, this was still one of my firsts with him, my firsts ever. He knew how nervous I could get, and the fact I’d trusted him.. it meant the world. He eagerly positioned himself closer to me, his hard cock pressing against my thigh as he murmured, “Oh, my love. I'll show you how much I love you...”

"Mm... good boy..." I murmured. "Don't keep me waiting, kitten."

Heart racing with the thrill of my praise, Vox slowly rubbed his needy length against my thigh before shifting it to my entrance, pushing inside with a low purr of desire. “Fuck... you're so warm and wet... I want to make you lose your mind tonight...”

"Go on, then," I said, softly. I gave him a smile, to assure him I was comfortable and okay with this. "Be a good kitty for me."

His body quaked with excitement at my touch, every nerve tingling with pleasure as he began to move in a slow, steady rhythm. “You like that, love? Do you want it harder, faster? I'll be whatever you want me to be...”

"Aww, baby," I cooed softly. "I'm yours tonight, okay? You've been such a good kitten, you deserve it. You get to choose, okay?"

Moaning in ecstasy at the thought of having me completely under his control, Vox's movements intensified, his body slamming against mine. I wasn’t used to this at all, but I did my best to keep up. “You're so fucking beautiful... I could look into those eyes all night long...” he murmured, brushing my hair aside.

"Mm..." | moaned softly for him, wanting more. I was trying to please him, to be good for him. I wasn’t quite sure what I was doing, but he seemed to be having fun.

With a devilish grin, Vox used his fingers to tease my nipples, pinching and pulling at the sensitive peaks as he thrusted into me with wild abandon. “You like that, don't you?” I whined and whimpered in response, my ears twitching. I was usually the one that teased him. This had to be some sort of revenge for that. “Fuck, I want you so bad...”

"Then... then take me," I mumbled, hardly coherent between my moans and gasps and sighs. I groaned. “Vox… Vox, please…”

Unable to resist my pleading and whines any longer, Vox positioned himself between my legs and thrusted in hard and deep, the head of his cock hitting the back of my sweet spot with each powerful thrust. “God, You're so fucking tight... So damn beautiful...”

I whimpered and whined, gripping at the sheets tight as he continued. "V-Vox..." | gasped and whimpered, feeling myself near my peak.

Feeling my walls tense around him, Vox grabbed me by the hips and started to fuck me harder- if that was even possible, I didn’t know-, desperate to feel me cum around his cock. “You're so close, come on now, sweetheart... Fuck, come for me... Come all over my cock... I want to see you lose control...” I moaned and released, feeling an overwhelming sense of pleasure come over me.

"Vox... V-vox…”

Feeling me cum around his cock sent Vox over the edge. With a loud moan, he thrusted in deep and stilled, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself inside of me. “Fuck... darling... You feel so fucking good..”

I whined and gripped the sheets again. "Vox, please," I whimpered, unable to say anything else, completely overwhelmed.

Vox pulled out slowly, his body trembling with the intensity of his orgasm. He fell onto the bed beside me, his breathing heavy as he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me close. “You're amazing, my dear,” He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to my neck.

I sighed and relaxed for a moment, letting the feeling wash over me. "Mm... good kitty," I mumbled, nuzzling my face against his. "I love you."

Vox purred at my words, rubbing his cheek against mine as he nuzzled back. “I love you too, sweetheart...” He murmured, before nipping at your bottom lip. “I could stay here forever..”

#hazbin hotel #vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #writing #vox x reader #my writing #x reader #thanks anon! #vox fanfiction #vox hazbin hotel #vox smut

[thesilmarillionblog]

PROTECT ME FROM WHAT I WANT

Chapter 2: Tides Will Bring Me Back to You

Summary: You've been working with Butcher and his team since your sister died in a plane crash caused by Homelander, and months later, you met Soldier Boy. Drowning between hatred and your desire to have your vengeance, you have to face your feelings for Soldier Boy eventually.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Female!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Hurt, Language, fake Soldier Boy gets hurt, soft fake Soldier Boy, mention of death.

Word Count: 3128

A/N: English is not my first language.

When you heard mixed noises coming from the TV and felt a hand on your hair, you opened your eyes lazily. You felt numb and spent. Confused by the sense of loss seized through you, you lifted your hand to touch the one stroking your hair with tenderness.

The hand on your hair stopped, and you looked at the handsome figure above you. 

“Hey,” said Ben. “You’ve been sleeping for hours, sweetheart.”

Even more confused, “for hours?” you asked. You realized your head was on his leg.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Didn’t you sleep well yesterday?”

You tried to remember how you fell asleep or what made you feel this way, but it left you even more puzzled. You felt a sense of disquiet take over. You shivered under his soft hands. You did not like this empty feeling.

“What happened?” he asked softly this time, helping you to get up and taking you in his strong arms right away.

“I don’t know,” you murmered while resting your head on his broad and strong chest. The warmth touching your cheeks and hands helped you. “I feel distressed and scared. Maybe I just overslept.”

He tightened his strong arms around you, gave a firm kiss to your forehead, and you pressed your body against his, searching for peace in his presence. You felt desperate yet safe in that moment.

He lifted your chin to look at you properly and see what’s wrong. “Scared of what?” he asked you in disbelief.

You started “Homelander-” but he cut you off immediately by saying, “He died a long time ago, remember? I did it. I am the one who killed him, baby,” and continued, “What can make you scared when the strongest supe ever to live is your husband, huh?” as he gave you a teasing wink.

The sincerity of his words calmed your sensitive heart in a second.

“No one can dare to hurt you as long as you’re with me.”

You believed him.

His conforming touch and sweet talk shadowed and overtook your negative mood.

“As long as I’m with you? What if I leave you? Does it mean they can touch me?” You teased him while you put your hands around his neck.

“They may try,” he growled, and he took you by the neck and crushed his warm lips with yours firmly. Between lustful yet sweet kisses. “You don’t want to divorce or something, right?” he said, and his smile reached his eyes.

“You would never leave me.”

You were melted by his trust and hidden fragility that only you could see under his sharp gaze.

“I would never.”

He believed you.

To boost your mood, he suggested you watch a movie, and you gave him a nod. He certainly didn’t know about the latest movies released in the last four decades, so he let you choose. After Ben settled everything up, he sat on the couch and took you to his lap immediately. You did not remember at that moment if you had ever felt like this before. In fact, your mind was like a blurry landscape filled with joyless and pale colors. However, if there was only one thing you were sure of, it was that Ben’s presence brought you such comfort that you wanted to remember that exact moment and hold on to his love and tenderness for you forever.

As time passed, your thoughts were rather focused on Ben and yourself. Pushing your mind to remember what happened before you fell asleep and the day before, your eyes watered without a reason. You were stuck between nothingness and the abstract void of the present.

Trying not to sound dispirited, you said, “Ben.” Shifting your position in his arms, you lifted your head to check his expression closely. You asked, “Do we have any plans for tomorrow?”

Since you couldn’t recall your memories at all at that moment, you wanted to ask Ben and learn about tomorrow’s plan without sounding bizarre.

Ben’s eyes met yours before he gave you another kiss.

“Your sister will give us a visit. You told me you missed each other a lot, that it had been a long time since you spent time together. Don’t you remember?”

Ben’s gaze was questioning, and he looked confused. You hated yourself for being difficult and ruining the mood.

“Oh, yes. Sorry,” you murmered. “That long sleep must have unbalanced me or something, I guess.”

“Y/N,” he murmered, and he turned off the TV. “Is there something bothering you?”

Judging by his voice, he sounded disturbed, hurt, but also curious.

“No,” you denied right away. You felt terrible for making him feel that way. “I don’t mean to be like this and ruin the night, but I feel a bit strange. I can’t remember a thing from today or yesterday. I just” sighed. You didn’t know how to put your feelings into words properly.

“Do you remember that you love me?” he asked with a pained voice.

“Of course I remember,” you said with pleading eyes, not even hesitating for a single moment.

“And isn’t that enough for you?”

“It’s enough, Ben.”

He gave you a genuine, wholehearted smile before he lifted you as if you weighted nothing. “Good. Let’s get some sleep.”

Despite last night’s strange moments, you felt a joy go through your body when you felt Ben’s presence behind your back as sunlight dazzled your sleepy eyes. His grip was incredibly tight around your arms and all of your body. You tried to turn around and face him, but couldn’t even move a bit, so you hit your hips to his with a sudden and harsh movement to wake him up and loosen his arms. However, you forgot for a moment that he was a supe whose body was tougher than any material in the world, and you were just a human whose bones were more breakable than a tiny rod. You moaned, caused by a sudden pain, and that woke him up.

He loosened his arms right away and held your hip to still you.

“What are you doing?” he asked with a sleepy voice.

You finally turned to him and gave him a short but firm kiss as you played with his messy hair. “Nothing at all,” you murmered innocently. “I was just trying to wake you up.”

He made a soft noise as he pulled you closer. “Well, we both can agree on your capability about that.”

After cuddling some more time on the bed and he talked about Vought and everything, you took a shower while Ben prepared the breakfast. You sat on the chair and watched him while he was doing all the work. He was very meticulous, and he looked so serious while doing it; you couldn’t stop teasing him till he finished.

Ben put on his supe suit and left home after he gave you long and sweet kisses, leaving you with your sister alone.

You gave your sister a big hug as soon as she arrived. Ben was right. You definitely missed her so much that you didn’t want to let her go. Your heart became heavy with sorrow and melancholy, and your eyes watered for a second, but you gathered yourself, pushing the gloomy mood away and keeping the day from being ruined by those emotions.

“Hey,” she chuckled. It was obvious she was surprised. “Did you miss me that much?”

“Of course I did.”

You felt like it’s been a long, very long time since you’ve seen her, as if it’s been months, even years.

. “Are you okay, though?” she asked with a concerned voice as she rubbed your arm, and you both sat down on the couch.

“I am okay.” You smiled at her with sincerity and held her hands. “It’s just that I missed you a lot.”

She rolled her eyes at you and said, “Maybe I should put a long distance between us, so you miss your little sister even more.”

Her teasing voice made you giggle. “Well, if you make this a habit, maybe I wouldn’t. My little sister? You’re just two year younger than me,” you said, hitting her slowly with a pillow.

“So, how is everything going with Ben?” she asked.

“It’s fine,” you murmered. “He is very thoughtful and gentle.” You cut it short, not knowing how to describe marriage at all.

She gave you a suspicious look and asked, “Is that all? You don’t sound very happy.”

“I am,” you denied with a firm voice. “Really, everything is well. There is absolutely nothing wrong with him or the marriage.”

She said, “I’m glad to hear that, Y/N,” with a relieved voice. “Not going to lie, I was about to have second thoughts for a moment about marriage. After all, I’m about to join the Married People Club soon. Big news.” She showed her wedding ring.

“Can you believe?” she said excitedly. “Tim just proposed to me. To be honest, I thought our relationship wouldn’t escalate that fast and end eventually as we fought over stupid stuff all the time, but I guess love always finds a way out. What do you think?”

You were too surprised to say anything, so you just took a look at the wedding ring. She was waiting for your reaction excitedly.

“Wow, Alice,” you said, not knowing what to say exactly. “Congratulations then.” You gave her another hug. “I am so happy for you.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” she said shyly. “I haven’t told mom and dad yet though. You’re the first to hear, so don’t spill the beans,” she asked with a pleading voice. You gave her an understanding nod.

“How long has it been since you and Tim met, by the way?” You asked, and you tried not to sound mean or in any way that could upset her. You just had a hard time remembering everything.

Slightly disturbed by your question, she said, “Six or something, I guess,” with a distant voice. “Why did you ask?”

“Look, Alice,” you said, touching her arm softly. You were scared to ruin her joyful moment and make her upset. “Don’t you think it would be better if you two gave each other a bit more time? Just in case, you know.”

She frowned and raised her eyebrows as you talked. It was clear she wouldn’t take it well. “Why are you being like this, Y/N?” she asked with a hurt and angry voice. You opened your mouth to defend yourself, but she did not let you. “Do you think I’m too naive or stupid to make a decision? Why is everything okay and safe when it comes to you but not me? How does that even work?”

You were overwhelmed by her sudden rage. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just want the best for you, and give yourself a bit more time to be sure of your feelings.”

“You did, though,” she said, raising her voice slightly. “Yeah, you sure know more about what I feel than I know about myself. Anyways. I need to go; I’m going to miss my flight.”

You were about to protest, but a sudden, heavy, and unbearable headache appeared. Holding your head, you loudly moaned in agony. You shut your eyes in pain as random memories emerged from nothingness.

“Hey,” Alice said with a concerned voice, touching your back. “Are you okay?”

You pushed yourself to ignore the sudden memories filling your mind, but it was impossible. You screamed in pain. The memories were so horrible and hideous that you couldn’t stand them. They were about your sister's death and the fight between you just one hour before her death. Just like the one you were having moments ago. Tears were dripping from your eyes uncontrallably.

Finally, you came to realize what was happening around you when the headache stopped.

“Y/N?” Alice called out one more time with a worried voice. “I’m scared.”

Her voice broke your heart into pieces. You looked at her with disbelief. She was real and right there, in front of your eyes. She was alive and well.

“Alice?”

“You scared the shit out of me,” she said, letting go of the breath she was holding for like a minute.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, shocked. The tears were streaming down your eyes already. “I can’t believe this.”

You didn’t want to worry about your real body or anything at all. You just wanted to savor this single, small, and vulnerable moment. You wanted to remember everything forever.

“Can you please tell me what’s going on?” Alice murmered in worry as she tried to get away from your tight hug to check on you. “I don’t get it.”

“Nothing,” you said, trying to calm her. “I just missed you so much.” It was difficult, but you made an effort to hold back your tears.

Even though you knew it was all a delusion, everything seemed so real.

Ben told you that those delusions were worse than a nightmare.

It was a gift.

 “I am okay.” You told your sister to soothe her. “I am sorry for everything I told you, Alice. I’ve never meant to hurt you.”

You knew she was gone, and nothing would bring her back to you. Whatever she said or said, none of them were real, or your words would fix a thing. However, you just wanted to say how sorry you were for having a fight with her, filling her last moments with bitter and irreparable memories.

Alice sighed as she hugged you back, rubbing your arm. “I know.”

“I know you want the best for me, okay? I’m not angry with you,” she said, assuring you. “Hey, I really need to go. I don’t want to miss the flight, but I need to know if you are really okay.”

Remembering her flight, you sobbed between your tears. You knew it wouldn’t change a thing, but you pleaded with her in desperation. “I’m so lonely. Please, don’t leave.”

“Don’t be like this,” she murmured, wiping your tears away. “You’re not alone. Tim and I have been planning this trip for a long time, but we are going to have a great time together when I come back, I promise.”

You wanted to talk to her for hours, hug her tight, and spend time with her as much as you could, but every beautiful thing comes to an end sooner or later. It’s ironic how compassionate yet cruel life is.

You wanted to say so much but didn’t want to end this dream by confusing her or ruining this fake reality. You wanted to end your conversation with her in peace this time, as you should have.

When she rose up from the couch, you followed her to the door. You gave her a longing smile.

“I’m very happy about you and Tim. I truly am,” you said with sincerity. With a heavy heart, you said “Be safe out there, okay? I love you.”

Knowing her flight would turn into a nighmare, that day was the last day you see her and it was your last moment together, you struggled to control your tears.

“Thank you,” she said as she hugged you tight. “I will. I love you too.”

You cried for hours, not caring about what happened to your body or how long you were absent. Your phone rang like crazy, but you ignored it, knowing what it would be about. You made a vow to see the day Homelander died. 

Your tears stopped when Ben came back. You rose and went to him with quick steps.

“Y/N,” he murmered with concern. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

The gentleness and compassion in this voice broke your heart, because it was all a lie. You knew that you had to force yourself to wake up and break that pathetic and mirrored vision of yours.

“This isn’t right,” you said with a dry voice as you tried to get away from his touch.

.”What do you mean?” He made a move to touch your cheek, embrace you, but you took a step back from him again. It broke your heart to see the disappointment and pain in his eyes.

“You’re not real nor me and this house and this marriage. Everything is fake,” you said with a firm voice.

“I don’t get it. Will you tell me what happened or why you are upset? So I can fix it,” he murmured, closing the distance between you and giving you a captivating kiss.

“I know that you don’t actually love me. I’m aware this is just a dream or a simple delusion, and I want to wake up right now.”

“You don’t make sense,” he said with a firm voice. “I do love you.”

“No.” This time you raised your voice and tried to push his hands away, but he didn’t let you go. If he tried harder, he could convince you at any moment. This Ben was everything you needed him to be. “I will wake up.”

“You told me you’d never leave,” he said. You knew when he finally understood you. “Are you not happy here?”

You wanted to surrender him badly and let yourself get lost in the moment, but you knew you couldn’t. You didn’t know what to say. Lost in thoughts, he kissed you passionately.

“Don’t leave me,” he begged again, hugging you tight desperately as if he would prevent what was about to happen.

“But you’re not real,” you murmered, touching his chin.

“If you wake up, he will never love you the way I love you and will care about you. You know he’ll hurt you.”

You knew he was right about every single thing he said. He was trying hard to persuade you, but you knew it was just a part of the delusion, and everything he said was just a mirror of your own consciousness.

“I know, but at least all of them would be real.”

He didn’t say anything this time.

“I don’t want to be here or to be with you. I will wake up,” you said decisively as you finally felt the change in the atmosphere around you. You opened your eyes.

#the boys #soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #jensen ackles soldier boy #the boys season 3 #soldier boy the boys #the boys series #jensen ackles #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys soldier boy #soldier boy fic #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy x you

[discalmnected]

This will forever be one of my favorite photo shoots purely for how soft they look borderline cuddling on the bed

#do you think they were given any direction from the photographer #or did they just like decide to lie on top of each other for the fun of it #it’s the way Michael is casually lying on calums thigh in both pictures #and calum is in two different positions so Michael decided to lie on him twice #calum could have moved slightly to the left so Michael could lie on the bed but no #he wanted to be a pillow for him #and the way Luke’s leg is thrown over Michael in the first picture??? #very domestic #Michael looks so content in that first picture #and Ashton leaning against calum in both pictures!!! #this was during the time where he shied away from physical affection #so he could have leaned against the headboard or away from calum #but he choose to be right up against his boys #5sos #5 seconds of summer #michael clifford #ashton irwin #calum hood #luke hemmings

[turtleblogatlast]

I think a lot about Leo’s tendency to push his way into the spotlight despite clearly being a natural in the shadows. Hell, you could argue that his worst moments are when he’s forcing himself onstage, and his best are when he does things no one notices until it’s already been done.

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt leo #rottmnt headcanons #rise leo #His aptitude with subterfuge sleight of hand stealth and speed really push how being a ninja really comes naturally to him. #it’s arguable that his desperation for the spotlight and validation is an act of subterfuge against himself #note that when he’s offered a job as a mascot he’s fine being unknown #when he and splinter win the battle nexus Leo immediately says ‘they love YOU pops’ #idk I think so much about how good a ninja Leo is #and how much his persona is more an actor #Leo as a tot is shown a natural skill at katana too so hear me out- #every Leo is a natural ninja but every Leo’s route in life is directly tied to their splinter so #since rise splinter is an actor Leo too aims for it #and he brings it into his whole life - masking always because a Leo makes what they do who they are #I think that Leo naturally falls more in line with that of a typical ninja #his eccentric performer self is his subterfuge skill just set to an 11 at all times #not that that’s NOT him - like I said it’s still undoubtedly a part of Leo #but? idk I think about little moments like Leo being the only one to choose stealth in bug busters #or Leo being the only one to almost get Gus’s dog tags in The Ninja Art of Hide and Seek (he was so close but luck was against him alas) #like- he’s clearly in his element there and he falls into those skills so easily #it’s like how everyone has skills in so many things but some exceed more in some than others do #like Raph? Raph’s the biggest Hero of the bunch of them let’s be perfectly real here. Raph is THE Hero #All the boys are smart in their own rights but Donnie is THE Genius. #and they all have mystic powers but Mikey is THE Mystic Warrior with immense untapped potential #likewise Leo I feel is THE Ninja #but yeah I love how much Leo goes for the spotlight anyway for better or for worse #he IS a performer again make no mistake! but again the way he does it still lines up with his natural ninja aptitude and I love it #Leo loving magic tricks and magicians so much works doubly well here because like #you’d think he’s focused solely on the performance flair - no it’s ALSO and ESPECIALLY the DECEPTION

[dayurno]

omg reverse riko au is making me feel so ill..... please let us know if you have any more thoughts abt riko kayleigh and kevin legend.....

I DO my idea is that its around the same age kevin and riko met in canon so tetsuji kicks the bucket when riko is 7/8 and riko is (very forcibly) removed from the nest and sidelined to kayleigh as a new moriyama asset from the main branch takes over the nest. riko struggles a lot with the change because he is very young and very scared and he’s used to horrible things at tetsuji’s hand, which means that he doesn’t trust kayleigh and finds kevin entirely too weird. it’s honestly really cute because i think at this point obviously 7 year old kevin wants to befriend him but riko is such an anxious ball of anger that most of their interactions are like

baby riko: what do you WANT from me. go AWAY!!!! NOW

baby kevin: (heavy irish accent) nothing i think. do you want a bite of my sandwich?

anyway i think riko and kayleigh do get along but he never really considers her his mother or even godmother, for a long time he thinks of her as his Benefactor until the child therapy starts hitting and she becomes Aunt Kayleigh and then after a few more years he can be loosely convinced to refer to her as auntie once or twice a year. his second son syndrome never really leaves him; in the upcoming years riko struggles with the idea that he’s anything But an add-on to the days and still overworks himself to death trying to be acknowledged by kengo, but it’s leaps better just from being outside the nest and having people to look out for him

riko and kevin have some rough patches, especially during riko’s first years with the days. because kevin is an easy target and riko is afraid of kayleigh he ends up letting a lot of that anger out on kevin, though obviously at this point they are children and riko’s anger manifests in some mild bullying and name calling. i think kevin doesn’t even understand it most of the time 😭 riko has been around grown ups his entire life so his adult level insults make no sense to kevin’s seven year old mind. nevertheless after kayleigh tells him to stop picking on kevin riko does respect it (first out of fear, then later because they actually get along) and they go on to become brothers with only a slight tendency towards antagonism. riko’s jealousy of kevin is still a big part of their relationship and i think even more so when college applications roll around, and he’s even more worried when wymack comes into the picture, but it never culminates into anything as horrible as hand breaking because riko has an actual outlet and a support system :) it’s mostly a yelling match that eventually turns to getting scolded by kayleigh for acting like barbarians

#i know kayleighs sermons go hard kevin and riko are sitting there head bowed like yes maam….. #i havent yet decided where they both go to college in this au #but i think for one that the nest still exists and jean still gets sold to the moriyamas but it’s the main branch now #however without riko there jean’s experience in the nest is. Hard but not brutal #anyway i think riko would apply to edgar allen but he would be rejected on the account of being second branch raised by foreigners #but how horrifying to think about jean in the nest bossing riko around right. kind of a slay though #i think kevin goes to palmetto still Because he wants to reconnect with wymack and riko is very divided but ultimately chooses usc #because they’re the best and he doesn’t want to play second fiddle to kevin and his father #also i imagine his time in usc sucks a lot for the first months because it’s so different LOL #and he’s never been alone before like this with kayleigh and kevin so far out of reach #but :) hed make friends. maybe even… captain jeremy knox….. whos to say? #! #meanwhile kevin (a normal boy at this point) has to deal with the foxes being a trainwreck and the new serial killer dad recruit #he’s got a lot on his hands #ANYWAY this is entirely unrelated and indulgent but i want this kevjean to meet so bad #riko on the phone: we played against the ravens that jean moreau is a scoundrel and a monster and he almost broke my arm kevin: woaw #he’s gonna be so pissed off three years down the line when jean moreau shows up at christmas dinner with the days #you think theres any worse dynamic for jean and riko than master and slave? of course. Brothers in law #wouldnt you just kill to be a little fly buzzing around that christmas supper #asks #riko #kevin&riko

[sysig]

Hello there! Request for Ralsei carving a pumpkin?? 🎃

Day 29 - Flower!

#My art #Deltarune #Ralsei #He's bringing it to you to show off! #Be careful there's a light source in there don't knock it over #I feel like I've mentioned my opinion on Ralsei's two colour palettes but it's been ages so I'm saying it again this time! Lol #I've actually warmed up to his white fluffy look - I didn't like it when he first took off his hat but I like it now #That said I still prefer his black fur and white eyes look - I really think it makes the greens pop #The pink shading on his white fur is really cute against the green tho too hnnnn s'why it's gotten harder to choose! #But I think I still gotta hand it to the shadowed look I'm too much of a sucker for inverted and simple colour schemes haha #It's been a dang-while since I've drawn him! Pretty sure this is my first hand-drawn digital Ralsei #Anyone remember his keyhole chibi from when Deltarune was new? Lol #He's a good boy <3 #Why'd he carve a flower? 'Cause flowers are nice and friendly and you can give them to your friends! #This one has five petals see! It's not thematic it's just nice! Lol #Important question: If one of the trio were to eat the pumpkin would it be Susie or Kris #You have to pick one I know they would both eat it if given the opportunity but which one would eat it more #I think it's Susie #Lol anyway ♪ #Other than his right leg this was fun to draw ♪ Relaxing

[slytherinslut0]

jealousy. | slytherin boy headcanons

author’s note: im completely unhinged, as always. no surprise there. love me some angry snake men🥵 please enjoy.

-your boyfriend sees another guy flirting with you in the hall.

Draco Malfoy.

Sees you from down the hall as he’s walking with his friends.

“You know what, guys, I’ll catch up with you after.”

Would literally ditch his friends to make his way over, collecting himself as saunters up to you and mystery man.

Would instantly grab your ass, no hesitation, grip firm enough to bruise. When you gasp, caught off guard, he’d shift his arm up and around your shoulder, pulling you against him.

“What’re we talking about?” He’d sneer.

His voice would be laced with feign interest, smirking down at you with blaring eyes before shooting daggers at the boy.

He’d simply chuckle at you when you tell him nothing, just school stuff, leaning down to place a possessive kiss on your cheek as he grabbed your hand.

“Wonderful. let’s head to class, yeah?”

He’d pull you away from that dude, shooting him another look meant to kill, a silent warning not to fuck with him.

Finally gets you alone in an empty corridor or bathroom; would waste literally no time at all before pushing you against the wall and grabbing your neck/jaw.

“Who the fuck was that, hm?”, “he was practically eye-fucking you…give me five good reasons why i shouldn’t have him expelled or hexed into bloody Azkaban.”

He’d be furious, but he’d also know that you’d never choose some other guy over him, so he’d soften once he hears the innocence in your tone.

“You’re mine, princess,” he’d loosen his grip, kissing you softly. “Say it.”

Blaise Zabini.

Was listening to music while walking down the hall, instantly rips out his headphones the second he sees you laughing a little too hard with some dude he doesn’t know.

He doesn’t necessarily stop walking, but he’d definitely slow his pace, kind of just watching, not wanting to interfere but also not wanting to look creepy stalking you from a distance.

When the guy doesn’t leave, he’d tired of waiting, saying “fuck it”, before marching over naturally.

This man is so fucking cool calm and collected he’d just saunter right up and join in, making himself at home.

He’d practically take over the conversation because he’s literally just that chill in every situation, seamlessly fitting right in, so fucking charming and loved by everyone.

You’d kind of just end up staring at him, smiling in silent awe, knowing that this was his way of asserting his place, letting the guy know what the fuck was up.

After the dude leaves he’d just causally look at you, smirking that charming smirk, wetting his lips as he hooked an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close, leaning down for a kiss.

“Ain’t no one getting you without getting me too, babygirl.” He’d murmur against your lips. “let that be known, right now, forever, always.”

Lorenzo Berkshire.

Would literally stop everything. The second he’d see you laughing and smiling he’d be completely unable to focus on anything else and would completely zone out of any conversations with his friends.

Would get like super anxious and flustered pretty much immediately.

Wouldn’t want to intrude so he’d just kind of hang back, wait for you against the wall and try not to stare too much.

His adorable little cheeks would flush, and he’d know he seemed utterly ridiculous so he’d try to busy himself with his shoelace or something while he waits.

You’d quickly cut off the conversation and move over to him, instantly being able to tell that he’s overthinking.

He’d smile at you, though you could still see the concern on his features.

“Who was that guy, darling?”

You’d tell him he was just a friend from class, no one special at all, pulling him in for a hug and giving him a quick smoochie on the cheek.

“Don’t worry enz, no one could ever take your place.”

He’d blush, trying to play it off. “Sorry love, I know you’re my girl.”

You’d take his hand, squeezing him hard, never wanting him to doubt that for a second. “Only yours baby, forever.”

Mattheo Riddle.

“Who the fuck-“

Would literally whip his bag at Theo, hastily shoving through the crowded hallway with blazing eyes, tunnel visioned as he tried to figure out where the fuck this dude found the audacity.

You wouldn’t even have to turn around to know he’s there, you’d be able to literally feel the anger radiating off of him.

You’d already know exactly where this was heading, but you’d also know there was no attempting to stop him because it’s pointless. Everyone in the school knows that.

Matty does what Matty wants, and right now, he wants to fuck up this guys face for even thinking about flirting with you.

You’d simply look up at him, noting his tensed jaw and his dark eyes as he glances between you and the dude, before fixing back on you, wetting his lips before he says,

“Is this fucker bothering you?”

Unable to help it, you’d smirk, shaking your head as you calmly attempted to talk him down.

“No Matty, he just asked if he could borrow my study notes-“

He’d heard more than enough.

“Study notes? Yeah, I don’t fucking think so,”

Without giving the guy a chance to react, he’d reach for his collar, shoving his back against the wall, teeth barred and face contorted in a snarl as he’d hiss:

“Bother my fucking girlfriend again and the only study notes you’ll need are the ones on how to drink out of a fucking straw, understand?”

Not interested in the response, he’d shove the guy away, eyes softening instantly as he moved back over to you, thrusting a hand through your hair as he kissed you like it’d been a hundred years, right in the middle of the hall for everyone to see.

And judging by the intensity in his grip, you’d already know, later that night, he’d be extra fucking sure to ask you who the fuck you belong to while he’s fucking you.

When he finally pulled back, he’d smirk at you. “Some bloody nerve on that guy, huh?”

You’d just shake your head and laugh, taking his hand as the two of you headed for class.

Theodore Nott.

He’d spot you from down the hall, his eyes instantly narrowing, gaze darting around as though he was missing something, as though this was some sort of sick joke.

Surely, this dude is mentally unwell, right? There’s no fucking way that he’s-

Doesn’t bother to think about it for even another fucking second, instantly shoving through the crowd to make his way over.

Proceeds to wrap his arm around your waist, other hand finding your jaw and pulling your lips to his before you could even process it.

Would proceed to full-on make out with you in front of the dude, and I mean tongue and all, his grip on your jaw so tight you’d know exactly what he was trying to do.

His hand around your waist might even slip lower, grazing over your ass, and then that’s when you’d attempt to gather yourself and push him back, completely embarrassed.

He’d just shrug, smirking down at you before he’d finally acknowledge the guys’ presence with literally nothing more than a glare meant to kill.

“Move along,” he’d say to the guy while pulling you away, grip tighter than ever. “This one’s fucking taken.”

As soon as he got you alone he’d be damn sure to remind you that you’re his, and only his, making you beg and whine his name before he fucked you like you deserved the pain.

Tom Riddle.

“AVADA KEDA-“

Lowkey kidding but not really.

No one would even dare because that man would make it clear as fucking day what would happen if they tried.

#harry potter #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #tom riddle smut #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #mattheo riddle smut #mattheosmut #mattheoriddle #mattheo smut #mattheo riddle #severus snape #tomriddle smut #tomriddle x reader #tomriddlesmut #blaise zabini #blaisezabini #theoriddlesmut #theodorenottsmut #theodore smut #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott smut #theoriddle #theo nott x reader #theo nott smut #theodorenott #theo riddle #dracomalfoy #draco smut

[sageofthestrange]

✿

bold for things i could definitely see or want, italics for things i could see or am unsure of and striked out for things i don’t want or cannot see.

FRIENDSHIP.     childhood friends  /  work buddies or coworkers  /  family friends  /  friends with benefits  /  smoking buddies  /  adventure buddies  /  fake friends  /  recently friends  /  party buddies  /  friendship of need  /  dying friendship  /  circumstantial friendship  /  partners in crime  /  old friendship  /[your muse] is the good influence  /[your muse] is the bad influence  /[my muse] is the good influence  /[my muse] is the bad influence  /  opposites attract  /  ride or die  /  frenemies  /  roommates or flatmates  /  penpals  /  exes to friends  /  enemies to friends  /  other

ROMANCE.     childhood sweethearts  /[your muse is mines] childhood crush  /[my muse is yours] childhood crush  /  exes  /  exes to lovers  /  forbidden lovers  /  highschool sweethearts  /  secret relationship  /  opposites attract  /  long distance  /  unrequited [from your muses side]/  unrequited [from my muses side]/  unrequited [from both sides]/  skinny love  /  friends to lovers  /  enemies to lovers  /  spurious relationship  /  power couple  /  newly entered  /  soulmates [ metaphorical ]/  soulmates  [ literal ]/  awkward  /  turning toxic (only in Godhood Path)  /  toxic love (only in Godhood Path)  /  cheating [on your muse]/  cheating [with your muse]/  other

FAMILIAL.     siblings [half]/  siblings [step]/[my muse] is an older sibling figure to your younger sibling figure  /[my muse] is a younger sibling figure to your older sibling figure muse  /[my muse] is a parental figure to yours  /[my muse] is a child figure to your muse  /  guardian figure  /  legal guardian  /  adoptive child  /  foster child  /[your muse] is taken under mines wing  /[my muse] is taken under yours wing  /  other

ANTAGONISTIC.     dangerous to each other  /  dangerous to others  /  unpredictable  /  rivals  /  petty  /  developing into sexual or romantic tension  /  based off family matters  /  based of off circumstance  /  based of professional matters  /  based off misunderstanding or lies  /  conflict of ideology  /  betrayal  /  hero - villain dynamic  /  enemies  /  fight club  /  friends turned enemies  /  lovers turned enemies  /  exes turned enemies  /  other 

#wizofwaterdeep #ANSWERED. #(hoo boy. Gale. Gale is a complex one regarding Valerya and the companions) #(because a good part of me is debating on her stance with choosing Godhood or staying as he is now and moving past Mystra) #(since she herself is trying to escape her illness with partial ceremorphosis and becomes lost in her wonder and desire to know all on it) #(it's almost morbid; and that morbid curiosity would definitely spur itself open with the Karsite Weave and whatnot) #(beyond that though; a lot of this is back & forth as you can tell but i do overall see them as very deeply intertwined people in some way) #(not just both of them being wizards but in a way; both of them are chronically and terminally ill) #(she's more than willing to always give him magical items in Act 1; likely knowing more than anyone save for Gale on how precious those are #(she likes how good-natured he is and how much he loves to just... talk. and share his mind) #(Valeryana was never able to do much of that even in the academy; so much distrust and ambition is woven into drow society) #(you can't trust anyone. yet gale is one of similar mind and accomplishment; separated from those burdensome paranoias) #(i can see her having long talks beneath the stars as friends or lovers; sipping on a glass of wine and philosophizing) #(of course; it isn't all sunshine; she's far more harsh than him overall and tries to balance it with her want to still end up positively) #(i think he'll see her desire to do the right thing and also see why she's like that; she was raised to be nothing BUT brutal) #(even when attempting to do the right thing; i imagine it'll bring up a lot of ideological fights between them) #(but the both of them learn from one another as a result) #(he teaches her it's okay to be openly kind and vulnerable. not everyone will try and use that kindness against you) #(she teaches him that it's never a sin to advocate for yourself. even and ESPECIALLY against those you admired and loved) #(which can twist and appear in a lot of ways for both of them) #(I'LL STOP HERE BUT. Gale And Valeryana Would Likely Be Quite A Time) #(thank you for the ask!! i'm curious to see yours for valeryana in turn :eyes:)

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。yours, always yours

synopsis. satoru has always been yours—and he needs you to know you’ll also always be his

— word count. 2.4k (read the breakup fic first for better understanding, but can be read as a stand-alone)

— contents. fem! reader, college! au, rich boy! gojo, post-getting back together angst that gets a little heated <3, minors do not interact, fingering, unprotected sex, edging, satoru cumming too quick <3, creampie, tbh the smut is short and a lil rushed my b, it ends in fluff tho !! trust !! there is fluff !!

— notes. tbh this will probably get flagged rly fast but oh well u win some u lose some. anywayyyyy here is the make up sex bc yall nasties deserve it <3 jk love u guys

satoru falls first. and he falls hard. everyone knows it, it’s never been a secret.

“you want me to wash your hair?” you ask gently, kissing his shoulder as the water falls over his head. he hums, nodding absentmindedly as he stares blankly at the tiles of your shower wall.

“sure,” he mumbles, “don’t tug.”

“i never tug,” you roll your eyes, snorting. he huffs a small chuckle, but it’s not the usual laugh satoru gives you. it’s mechanic, almost—just there to fill the space. “baby?” you ask softly.

“yeah?” he asks, “oh, should i bend a little? sorry, i—”

“what’re you thinking about?” your hands cup his cheeks, gentle and warm from the hot water as it soaks his skin.

he shakes his head, trying to smile as he clears throat. “just how nice it is to be pampered. maybe i’ll let you break my heart every once in a while so i get my back scrubbed and hair washed like this.”

“satoru,” you insist. you know—and he knows it too. “tell me?”

“why’d you do it?” he mumbles, “why’d you listen to him?”

“toru, you know why,” you sigh, “you know i didn’t think there were any other options.”

“you could’ve talked to me,” he furrows his brows, “just because my stupid old man threatens you with my stupid inheritance doesn’t mean we have to break up.”

“i was afraid you’d choose me.” it comes out as a whisper, like a confession you can’t bear to admit.

“i would have chosen you,” he agrees, “why’s that bad? how’s that wrong—”

“you’re not thinking about the bigger picture,” you shake your head, “that company is yours. you’ve spent your whole life—”

“so what? was i supposed to give up the rest of my life for it too?” he asks tiredly—satoru’s defeated. he’s never been defeated, it’s the most magnetizing thing about him.

even before you date him. he asks and asks and asks no matter how many times you say no. because there’s always a chance you’ll say yes, and he’ll never stop as long as there’s a chance.

“i’m sorry,” you sniffle, lips wobbling, “i could have….i should have said something. i didn’t want you to make a choice young and then….and then regret it.”

“you think i’d regret you?” he’s wounded—absolutely wounded at the words.

satoru has always been careful, diligent and so, so meticulous to love you right, to love you how you need to be loved. hadn’t that proven enough? that he was in it for the long run—for forever? he’d been so sure you’d be his future, that the break up feels like waking up from a peaceful dream to a house fire—devastating, with smoke in his nose and lungs that he can’t breathe right, and everything gone within a moment before he can even register it.

he stares at the ashes in despair. nothing prepared him for the hollowness of not being yours—because satoru has never cared to make you his. all he’s ever wanted was to be yours.

you’re quick to remove him from everything, deleting pictures from your socials, untagging him from posts, removing him from your private stories and close friends list. he doesn’t understand how you could change your mind so quickly—and then he realizes you probably don’t. because he knows you—better than anyone ever has, satoru knows you.

so he’s comes to you, drenched from the rain, from standing outside your door even as the water pelts against his skin because he’s determined. he’s going to get an answer out of you, going to make you explain why you pulled him in so close, let him reside in your heart and fall asleep to the comforting rhythm of its beating—and then push him out like he’s nothing. what made you push him out?

and finally, when he does, when you let him be yours again and admit it’s never what you wanted, that it’s because it’s what his father wanted—well, satoru can’t keep his composure. don’t you know? hadn’t he always told you? hadn’t he poured his heart out and let you know every moment he’s always been stuck dangling from his father’s fingers? stuck somewhere between the sky and ground, too high to feel the floor under his feet but never high enough to feel the wind in his face.

you’ve always known, always listened—and fuck, you held him some nights too, let your fingers dip into his hair and soothe his sorrows of always being stuck.

satoru’s always been stuck, always had every choice made for him and every instruction carefully laid out on the table. and then you decided to make his choice for him too, walking away and choosing his future for him like he’s never had a say.

he’s always been stuck, but never with you—but now, he wonders if that’s changed.

“no,” you squeeze his cheeks, “no i don’t think you’d regret me….but satoru losing what you have is a big thing,” you mumble, “people work their whole lives not having a fraction of what you do. that’s a lot to let you lose.”

“i’ve never seen my dad kiss my mom,” he stares at you, hard and unwavering, his eyes stare into yours, “he’s never held her hand or made her laugh. and you know what she told me? that she would sell her share of everything to have what we do. why do you always look at me for what i have first?” he asks angrily, the water pouring over his shoulders as they shake, “why can’t you just look at me first for once?”

“i do look at you,” you insist, “toru, all i ever see is you—”

“then stop caring what he says,” he says louder, his voice echoing through the small bathroom of your small apartment.

everything about your home is small—smaller than satoru’s especially. but he loves it, thinks he’d rather be here than anywhere else.

because it’s yours. and as long as you’re here, the world fits into this tiny apartment, the galaxy too.

“okay,” you say shakily. and then you nod, looking him in the eye, “you’ll handle it?”

he nods, kissing between your brows, “yeah, i’ll handle it. who else is gonna take over that company anyway?”

“but what if he finds someone else? and then he—”

“he won’t. my grandpa will shred him.”

“but he’s old, and he stepped down, so what really can he do if your dad decides—”

“god, baby,” he groans, pushing your body against the wall gently, “i love your voice, but you talk so much. i’m wanna listen to something else.”

his lips find your neck, sucking gently at the skin, hand trailing to your tits before his thumb circles your nipple. it’s slow, deliberate, teasing as it rolls over the bud.

you whimper, clutching onto him as a breathy, “t-toru,” leaves your lips.

“yeah,” he nods, “that’s what i wanna listen to instead.” his lips are in a grin against your neck, kissing and biting until he reaches your collarbone. “anyone dm you after you took me out of your socials?” he asks bitterly.

“j-just one,” you admit through a stutter, “b-but i didn’t even open it! i wasn’t really—oh, toru,” you gasp as his finger finds your clit, spreading your legs as he lets out a soft growl at your words.

“what? just cause my face isn’t on your instagram suddenly you’re not mine?” he asks, thumb rubbing harsh circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves—you close your eyes, moaning as your arms wrap tightly around his neck. “you’re always mine,” he murmurs against your ear, low and careful so you hear him well, “yeah? got that?”

“got it,” you nod furiously.

“got what?”

“‘m al-always—oh, fuck,” you mewl as one finger prods at your entrance, gathering your slick before slowly sliding through your walls.

“c’mon, sweetheart,” he says firmly, “finish your sentences.”

“always yours, toru! always yours—please, please j-just…”

“just what?” he raises a brow.

“more,” you sob—it’s a broken plea as your hips thrust against his finger.

he’s quick to slide in a second, thrusting his digits mercilessly into your soaked cunt, his palm gliding over your clit as the slick sound of his fingers fucking you is almost drowned by the water in the back.

your water bill will be high this month. you decide it’s a sacrifice satoru deserves.

“you think someone could ever learn this body better than me? make you cum like i can? you think anyone will ever love you enough to learn you like i do?”

“n-no,” you pant, his fingers hitting that spot inside of you so perfectly, you feel that dull ache build up quickly. it’s good—everything with satoru is good. his other hand finds your chest to pinch a nipple, twisting and squeezing until your nails leave indents on his shoulders as you moan loudly. “no one—no one but you.”

“exactly,” he growls, “how could you leave me? how could you leave us?”

“‘m sorry,” you sniffle, whimpering when the tips of his fingers slam against that spongey spot of your walls, fluttering around him and squeezing him in. you’re close—so close that you almost don’t know what he’s saying anymore, too focused on the way your impending orgasm is approaching. fast. “i’m sorry, i’ll never—ever leave again.”

“say you love me,” he demands.

it sounds like he’s pleading, though, if you listen closely. there’s a small crack in his voice, a slight shakiness that makes you force your eyes open and stare at him and whisper, “i love you, satoru. i love you.”

and then he rips his fingers out—right before you’re about to cum. you gasp, pleading nonsense as you cling to him and buck your hips and search for something, anything to take you over the edge.

and then you hear a sniffle. is he crying? is that wet droplet on your shoulder a tear or the water? you’re too busy calming down from your orgasm dying before it ever came to focus.

satoru’s hard against your thigh, throbbing and painful to sink into you. he strokes himself a few times, whimpers as his thumb gathers the pre cum from the sensitive tip, smearing it along his length as he shakily lets out a quiet moan.

“f-fuck, i gotta feel you. please, can i? please—”

“yes,” you pull him closer, grinding your heat over his hard-on, “yes please, toru. more, need more.”

he’s sliding along your folds, dragging the tip of his cock along your entrance and smearing a mix of your arousal with his. and then slowly, ever so gently, he’s pushing into your after that, pushing past your walls and bullying into your soaked cunt, curving into you perfectly.

it’s only been a week—you feel like you haven’t felt him in years. but it’s familiar. you remember every part of him, including every vein that drags along your walls and makes your head spin. he remembers every part of you, including where that spot is that he needs to angle his hips to find.

he slams into you, hard and rough and fast—doesn’t even let you adjust your position to hold onto him tighter before he’s thrusting his hips and fucking into you desperately. you can feel him, every inch of his skin against you, every part of him that’s touching you. and you can feel the way his cock nudges past your folds, the friction burning pleasure through ever nerve.

satoru knows how to fuck you, just like he knows how to love you, he knows your body—every dip and ever curve, every place to touch and every part that has you gushing around him. it’s just the way he is, too good at giving you what you want, what you need.

when he moans, it’s breathy and he’s panting as he lets out those soft whimpers that make your head spin. “feel that? feel me?” he asks, grunting as you squeeze around his length.

“yeah,” you breathe, “‘m so full.”

“i need you. please, please,” he murmurs, “can’t lose you, baby. never you,” he chants, the quiver in his voice tearing you apart.

“i’m right here,” you gasp, lacing your fingers with his and squeezing his hand. he squeezes back, just to let you know he’s there too, “right here, baby. you got me.”

and then he cums, just as soon as you whisper that—he spills right into you with a broken cry, his hips rolling, needy and desperate and so, so lost on the pleasure. he’s too busy working himself through his high, trembling over your body to care he’s cum too quick—and you don’t have it in you to tease him. you can feel the hot ropes of cum filling you, painting your walls white, fucking deep into you as the blunt head of his cock slams into you without a second of hesitation.

but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t falter that brutal pace as his hips slam into you, perfectly kissing your sweet spot every time. and before long, you break—your head pushes back against the wall behind you, mouth parted as you wail his name and cum—hard. you’re quivering and spasming around his swollen cock, enough that he whimpers at the way you’re so tight.

it’s good, it’s always good. satoru makes you feel good. he’s the best you’ve ever had—the best you’ll ever find.

and then you hear it again, the sniffle into your neck as he clutches you tightly. you know for sure that wet droplet is a tear this time, and your fingers tangle into his hair as you stroke the wet strands.

“i love you, toru,” you murmur, “my sweet boy. i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry.”

“don’t do that again,” he huffs in between tears, “that was so mean. so mean.”

“i said i won’t,” you chuckle, fighting back your own tears, “how long are you gonna hold this against me?”

“how long do you plan on being mine?”

“well,” you pull him from your neck, cupping his cheeks as you wipe away tears and peck his lips softly, “i think….forever.”

“well, get ready, then,” he glares softly, “i’m gonna hold this against you forever too.”

“okay,” you nod, “that’s fair.”

“and i love you too,” he adds, “but block whoever dm’d you. it better not be that zenin boy.”

“block those girls who’s pictures you liked,” you shoot back, glaring at him with a pout of your own.

“don’t yell at me,” he mumbles, leaning into your touch as your thumb strokes his cheek, “i’ve had a rough week. you have to be nice.”

dabitee anon. are u seeing this. did u see the satoru who cums too fast. did u see it. report back if u saw this. i repeat, dabitee anon report back if you see this

#teepods.writings #thirstee! #rich boy! au #fics. #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut #gojo angst #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut

[hxzbinwrites]

Hi! I just saw that requests are open, yeah!! I'd like to request an Alastor x fem!Reader where Vox has a crush on her so he sends her a set of different tea flavor as a gift. The problem is that these contain a drug that inhibits the person (thanks, Valentino). Basically, his plan was to wait for her to drink the tea and then show up at the hotel and seduce her so he could have her for himself (my boy thinks she loves him, lol). The problem is that she had graciously offered the tea to Alastor, who drinks it. Vox asks her if she enjoyed the tea she lies saying it was delicious so he immediately shows up at the hotel but ends up finding Alastor who is being super affectionate with her, revealing his true feelings for her. Eventually Alastor attacks Vox as soon as he sees him forcing the other to flee. Fluff and comedy, basically. xD

Alastor x Fem! Reader x Vox | Tea Time Troubles

Warnings ⚠️:  Cussing, drugs, controlling and manipulative Vox, out of character Alastor.

"I dunno 'bout this Voxxy" Valentino said, handing him a baggie of the drug, a weak aphrodisiac lining the walls of the bag.

"Don't worry about me Valentino, I'll be fine" Vox reassured him, holding the bag up to his screened face. He smirked deviously as he put his hands behind his back.

"But you tell me all the time 'bout 'public image' and all that shit." Valentino retorted, crossing his lower arms against his stomach.

"Don't you worry your pretty little face about it Honey" Vox sneered, rubbing his cheek in a falsely affectionate way. "Vox is a big boy and can handle himself. I just gotta put this into some tea bags. (Y/n) WILL be MINE."

"Ugh" The moth groaned, taking a puff of his cigar,"She's not even worth it. She hangs out with radio, fossil trash. If she was good shed know who to choose. Besides, I'm better than she is, right?"

"You're wrong." Vox said, his left eye radiating hypnotizing waves out of anger,"(Y/n) is perfect. She's everything, and she will be mine."

Vox's demonic laughter could be heard across the building, sending chills down anyone who heard it's spine.

--------

"Honey!!" (Y/n) exclaimed, holding up the box of tea that arrived at their house,"Your tea shipment came!"

Alastor, who was reading the paper at the kitchen table, looked over to see his dear (Y/n) carrying two large cardboard boxes.

He teleported over, making his shadows place them atop of the counter. His keen eyes narrowed at the second box, seemingly almost identical to the first one.

"How peculiar!" Alastor said, tapping his cane on the second box, almost poking it as if it was a foreign object.

"What's peculiar about it?" The fellow deer demon asked, peering over at the box her partner was so intrigued by.

"I did not order two shipments of tea from the catalogue this month!" He replied, his smile tightening in irritation. Could someone be trying to plant something in this hotel? Trying to hurt any of his friends, his beloved, or him?

"Maybe it's a promo box?" (Y/n) suggested,"I mean, you are a loyal customer of theirs. Maybe they want you to try a new product, I hear that's the new rage."

"Ah" Alastor replied, walking closer to the counter to rip open the second box to be met with a letter and a large box of tea.

"Thank you for your loyalty Mr. Alastor. We're reaching out to our most loyal customers to give this Promo box to! We're asking that you try our newest flavor, a (your favorite flavor) but with a twist! Despite the erratic sounds at night in Hell, this tea should help you fall right asleep! If you enjoy it, please promote so on your beloved Radio Show!"

"I was right!" The doe said, looking up at her partner,"They must've given it to you because they know you're famous and can promote their tea! Very smart people, I wanna try one tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow? Why not today my doe?" Alastor said, looking down at his partner.

"My stomach isn't feeling the best. Charlie's cake wasn't fully cooked through, but I didn't want to be rude and not eat it. Especially because no one else was!"

Alastor chuckled, petting her sensitive ears. "Now now (Y/n), you should've listened to me! I know all!"

"Al..." She said, batting her eyes up at him,"Do you mind trying it for me? I wanna know if it's good, but I don't want to throw up in my sleep!"

"Why should I?" He inquired, smirking down at (Y/n). "It seems like this predicament could've been easily avoided my little doe! Hahaha!"

"Please" She softly asked, smiling at him back.

"I suppose I can try one cup of it." He said, sitting down at the table, fully expecting (Y/n) to make him the cup as he finished reading his paper.

She giggled at him and began to start the kettle. Moments like these can't be replaced, a docile and homey moment between the two of them. (Y/n) loved seeing this side of him. The Alastor side of him, not the Radio Demon.

(Y/n) opened the smaller box that was enclosed in the large one, picking out the first tea bag. She smelled the bag, the fumes of blended herbs wafting in her nostrils. It smelled lovely, she would've to drink one alongside Alastor.

But she held back on picking up another bag, knowing its sleeping effects. (Y/n) really didn't want to throw up while in her sleep, and potentially on Alastor, who would be as knocked out as her.

Sighing, she finished preparing the tea, pouring it in Alastor's favorite teacups, the one (Y/n) gifted him on their second anniversary many years ago.

She walked back over to him, placing the teacup on his saucer, putting the sugar cube in as well.

"Thank you dearest" Alastor said, his eyes skimming over the newspaper,"I shall be in our room in a moment, why don't you go ahead and get in your nightwear?"

"Alrighty" (Y/n) replied, patting the back of Alastor's chair. That was something the two of them did, (Y/n) knew when to touch Alastor and when to not. Still wanting to show him affection, she'll pat an object close to him.

Alastor gave her a soft smile before returning his focus to the newspaper.

The doe walked up the stairs in the hotel to their shared room. She got in her fluffy pajamas, completed each and every step to her skincare routine, and crawled into bed with a book.

The silence was only broken by the occasional turn of a page, this was (Y/n)‘s daily quiet time, as Alastor liked to read the paper before turning in for the night.

This normally is for about an hour, but tonight it was a mere 30 minutes as the door busted open.

The doe yelped, her skittish nature causing her to flinch at the sudden jolt of noise. Her partner flittered into the room before crawling on top of her, his eyes droopy from the affect.

“Hi sugar” He said, burying his face in the crook of her neck. His ears were pressed against his head as he affectionately nuzzled (Y/n). Alastor grabbed her waist and flipped her on top of him, allowing him to bring her closer to his body, her chest atop of his.

“Al-Alastor?!” (Y/n) exclaimed, tensing up. What has gotten into him!? He’s not one to ever make such…bold advances.

“Oh my love” He said, a dreamy lilt in his voice,”you’re just perfection incarnate. Such a lovely little fawn you are.”

Blushing heavily, she let him rest himself on her, snuggling contently. It was rather peaceful, she did not know where this sudden chance of behavior came from, but it certainly wasn’t the worst by far.

(Y/n)’s ears perked up hearing a notification sound ding from her phone. She slowly grabbed it to check what it was.

Alastor was not very keen on allowing this sort of technology in the house, especially knowing Vox is over all of it. So they made a compromise, he’d take out the camera and microphone and she could have the phone.

Seeing it was a message from Vox, she opened it.

Vox: “Hey sweetheart, I pulled a few strings and got a shipment of some new tea of (your favorite flavor) that was being tested. How did you like it baby?”

(Y/n): Oh, it was good, thanks!

Vox: Just good? You sure sweet stuff? Wasn’t it so good you could just kiss the lips off of the person who got it for you?

(Y/n) sighed, shutting her phone off and curling up with her lover.

“I think that’s a yes!” Vox said, throwing his hands in the air ceremoniously. He quickly put on his best bow tie, in hopes it would get taken off by fingers other than his, and made his way towards the Hazbin Hotel.

————

Vox searched through each room until he found the one you and Alastor shared.

He scowled at the door, seeing a heart with the initials scribed on it “(Y/i) + A”

Pathetic. He could give you so much more than that. He could give you the most advanced technological sign known to mankind just for some silly initials, not some shitty hard with nearly illegible handwriting.

He opened the door, his signature smirk dropping as he saw Alastor, his arch nemesis (in Vox’s eyes) peppering small little kisses all over (Y/n)‘s face, making her giggle.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Vox yelled, his face was blue-screening.

Alastor took one look at the fellow Overlord and let out a long string of laughter, sitting up as he pulled (Y/n) into his lap.

“Vox?! What are you doing here?!”

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE THE ONE TO DRINK THE TEA!! AND THEN YOU’D BE MINE!!”

Alastor hooked a arm around (Y/n)‘s waist, looking at his opponent across the room.

“This is my doe, my love, and we all know if she would’ve drank the tea, she would’ve always chosen me.”

Lets just say, the power around the Pride Ring went out after that comment.

————

Word Count 1,524

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel x reader #hotel hazbin #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hôtel #alastor fanfiction #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #alastor #alastor x doe reader #x reader #fem reader #hazbin vox #vox x reader #the vees #hazbin hotel vees #hazbin hotel vox #the vees x reader #vox #vees #vox hazbin hotel #vivziepop #vivzieverse

[jungkookstatts]

All Over Again

[Summary]: Paternity leave has its effects on Jungkook. After his first day back at work, he can't help but show you how much he doesn't want to go back.

[Theme]: Dad!Jk, CEO!Jk, Married Couple AU, Parent's AU

[Rating]: 18+ for sexual themes. Marking, kissing, nipple play, creampie, unprotected (wrap it up y'all), dom!JK, mentions of another pregnancy, talks of pregnancy and getting pregnant, etc.

[Word Count]: 4,274

[A/N]: This is a pure result of the urge my body suddenly gets to want a child right before my period smh. Anyway, felt cute, might delete later once I am sane.

It’s been a long ass day. Jungkook’s white button-up feels stapled to his skin, his pants folding uncomfortably with every step he makes as he exits his office. A long finger comes up to his neck, digging underneath his striped tie, wiggling it a little to loosen the chokehold it has around his neck. His other hand feels bound to his briefcase, which carries so much importance in his life but yet so much burden at the same time.

It’s his first day back at work after his baby boy was born. The briefcase he holds reminds him of the duty he has to his family — of his passion and his support for you and your baby. But it also reminds him of the time it has ripped away from spending with you. He clutches it with so much strength at the thought of you, pulling his car keys out of his pocket and pressing the unlock button so hard, that he thinks he almost might just break it.

With a deep breath, he takes off his tie and tosses it in the passenger seat along with his briefcase. He’s ready to go home. That picture of you, him, and your son that you insisted on framing and Jungkook bringing to work has been a constant reminder of what he has to look forward to at the end of the day. If only his paternity leave could have been longer. You and his son are all he’s been able to think about. How you were doing, if you needed his help, if Jaemun was being feisty, how the cute crinkle on his nose resembles yours to a T.

It’s late January, and the winter air is unforgiving. He wonders if you have the heat on high enough; if Jaemun had enough blankets, or if the tip of your nose was cold like how it always is in the winter months. He can imagine you holding him close, swaddling him as you sing to him delicately. The thought makes his whole body warm, even though the air is so cold that it feels like glass is cutting against his skin.

He’s convinced he will take more time off. He’s the CEO, after all. He could take months off and it not matter. He wants to be with you always — at all times of the day to hold you and be there for you like he should be. If only the world had been that easy to where passions didn’t have a price. He got lucky, his passion having a heavy penny attached to it. But he wonders where that passion took something more valuable away from him — time. He finds himself now strapped between the choice of time and passion, and he fights the fact that he cannot choose both.

The door to your home is welcoming to his eyes as he pulls up to it. It’s not big by any means. Just homey and enough for the three of you. Even with the snow covering almost every inch of it, the reminder of how warm it is on the inside makes his drive to enter it even greater. He does so with a shiver, coming up to your shared home with a stomp of his boots to shake off the snow just before he enters.

To his surprise, he’s met with hushed music coming from the kitchen as he puts his winter coat on the hook, places his briefcase on the wooden floor, and shimmies out of his shoes. He looks at his watch first, making sure it’s not Jaemun’s nap time, to which he finds out it is. The soft music makes sense now, and he smiles when he makes his way down the hallway to the source of the noise.

The rest of the house is dark except for the kitchen-living room area that you and your baby rest in. Jaemun is peacefully sleeping in his bassinet by the couch, cuddling his dinosaur blanket, while you are by the stove, stirring something.

You look over your shoulder at the sound of familiar footsteps, and your heart immediately softens at the sight of your husband in the doorframe. He smiles back tiredly, running his hand through his hair in an exhausted attempt to pull himself together before he makes his way over to you. He looks relieved, like he’s finally received what he’s wanted all day. You’re happy to see him, knowing all too well that that’s what you’ve been waiting for all day, too.

Big, warm hands slide around your waist, a heavy chin rests on your shoulder as he kisses your cheek softly. He takes a deep breath, breathing in your presence as he releases the tension from work off his shoulders. You tend to have an instant effect on him — he missed you so much.

“You’re stirring water?” he laughs as he stares at the pot of water on the stove, unboiled, as you stir it as if it is.

“I’m trying to get it to boil quicker,” you explain with a defeated sigh. “Doesn’t seem to be working. I feel like I’ve been standing here for 20 minutes.”

He hums from behind you, taking your stirring hand and stopping your motions. You’ve never been a big cooker, but he knows you’ve been trying lately. “Just let it be, love. It’ll get there.”

You do as he says, putting the ladle down on the countertop and turning around in his embrace. You wrap your arms around his neck, staring at the tall man who holds you close against him. You’re met with a tired Jungkook who rests his forehead against yours as you play with the hairs at the back of his head.

“How was work?” you ask gently.

He groans, wrapping his hands around your waist and holding you tighter against him. It causes you to rest your cheek on his shoulder, hugging him in full.

“That bad?” you chuckle.

Your husband just sighs against your neck. “It’s too early to go back, Y/n,” he candors.

You tuck a strand of hair that fell in front of his face behind his ear. “We’re ok, Kook,” you comfort. But he only shakes his head, making the tucked strand fall out of its place again.

“I’m not,” he says. “I want to be here with you. Spend time with Jaemun before he’s suddenly 25.”

You chuckle at that. It does feel like that sometimes. It’s been three months since your son was born, but it feels like it was just yesterday that you were holding him for the first time.

You can only hold his cheek in response, running your thumb slowly against his soft skin. You feel for him, you really do. He’s such a good father. It makes your heartstrings tug and twist and pull every time you see him with your little boy. It’s only a matter of time before you have to go back to work as well. The thought makes your stomach turn, and you can completely sympathize with your husband dreading going back to work and leaving you and Jaemun.

“Your water is boiling,” he breaks you out of your daze.

“Oh,” you turn around. You smile, knowing he was right before. “I’m making pasta if that sounds ok?”

Jungkook kisses your neck in response, a gentle thing that has your tummy flipping for a second.

“You could also probably wake up our son,” you check the time on the microwave. “He’s been a little sleepy today, so I let his nap go for a little longer than usual.”

You add the pasta in and turn the water down, moving over to the greens left on the cutting board. You start chopping until your husband’s lips move lower.

“Our son,” he whispers, kissing your collarbone. The statement makes him jittery. It feels unreal still, even after nine months of waiting, and another three of actually having your little family here with him. You’re his wife, the mother of his kid, and he loves you more than anything in the world. You gave him something he can never find an equivalent to giving back to you. You gave him your heart and a family, and there’s nothing that can replace or overcome what that means to him. His soul lives for yours; it’s overwhelming what you’ve done for him. It’s overwhelming how you make him feel.

He kisses your collarbone softly once again, his heart full. You tilt your head to the side for more, and he gives it to you, kissing up your neck with slow wet kisses.

“Kook,” you exhale gently. You feel him hum against the skin just under your ear. Large palms cup your waist, his body moving closer to yours, trapping your hips against the countertop. Your knife feels loose in your hand when he bites at your skin gently, his tongue brushing over the bite mark afterward.

He stirs something within you. Something that you’ve missed terribly for the past few months. It makes your thighs tremble as he gently caresses your skin under his fingertips.

“The baby—“ you begin, but Jungkook’s motions cut you off yet again when his fingers slowly slide down your front. He’s unsure, his hand hesitating over your skin as his breath stops momentarily in thought.

“Is this okay?” He asks you genuinely. You nearly fall to your knees, dropping your knife onto the board, when his fingers put pressure over your clothed mound. It’s subtle, and much more gentle than what you’re used to with him. You know he’s being cautious, but god did you miss him. “If it’s too much, I’ll pull away.”

You shake your head.

It’s been a long time since the two of you have gotten intimate. Childbirth wasn’t easy, and your doctor just recently gave you two the “ok” for sex. The first time you tried since then wasn’t like what you’re used to with your husband. It was slow and painful, ending with a lot of apologies, embarrassment, and frustration. It’s safe to say that you have to get used to sex all over again.

“No,” you lean against him. “J-Just be gentle. I’m still a little sore.”

“Ok,” he whispers against your neck, kissing it softly. “Just relax for me, baby. I’ll make it feel good, I promise.”

You nod, loosening your nervous shoulders as your husband takes control. He stops swiftly for a second, turning the stove on the lowest setting before looking over his shoulder at his son to ensure he’s still fast asleep. Once he sees that he is, he immediately returns to you.

“So good for me,” he says, slowly circling your clit over your sweats. His other hand squeezes your waist before it moves up, sliding under your shirt and trickling over your breast. You’re wearing a soft bra today—one without an underwire—which makes it easier for him to slide his fingers under.

You whimper when he softly massages your boob, his fingers playing with your nipples gently. Your body, especially your breasts, has become 10x more sensitive since birth. You can feel everything, and everything either hurts or feels really really good. Whenever your husband seems to hold them, you’re a whimpering mess, melting like putty in his arms as he plays with you.

“Sensitive,” Jungkook smiles. His fingers rub harder against you, and you subtly buck your hips against him. His lips graze against your skin, his hair tickling your collarbone as he assaults your neck over and over again. 

“You’re so cute when you’re pregnant,” he rasps against your cheek before planting a sweet kiss upon it. “Wanna see you like that all the time. So full of me — carrying our babies.”

“Jungkook, I—” you whine, grasping onto his wrist. You’re unsure what to do with yourself, wanting him to do so much to you, but not knowing where to start.

The man behind you takes his hand away from your mound, and he chuckles when you whine in protest. But his thumbs hook on your pants and underwear, slowly pulling them down.

“Relax, baby,” he asks again. “I told you, I’m gonna take care of you. Don’t worry.”

His hand slides around your waist again, smoothing over your skin until it’s sliding between your folds. The back of your hand comes up to your mouth as your other grips the countertop for support as he plays with you.

“So wet,” he moans, feeling the effect he’s had on you with his fingers. “This all for me? I’ve barely touched you yet.”

You nod, feeling completely at the mercy of the man behind you. His other hand plays with your nipple again, and you feel another wave of euphoria go straight to your pussy.

His fingers gather your slick generously, smoothing it over your clit before circling it gently. He plays infinities over it, making your knees go weak. It’s getting harder to stay quiet, especially when he pinches your nipple gently, making you gasp at the soreness and pleasure it causes.

“K-Kook,” you whine, but he only chuckles, quickening his motions on your clit as he presses further into you. You can feel his dick strained against his work pants, and the thought of him inside you again makes you feel so needy for him. “Want you,” you pant. “Please.”

“Patience,” he shushes you, kissing your neck surely. “I haven’t even made you cum yet.”

“Wanna cum with you,” you whine in protest.

“You will,” he promises.

You gasp as he switches his finger, his thumb trading places with his middle. It circles over you just the same, except this time, it’s joined by his middle finger slowly inserting itself between your folds.

“Oh,” you exhale, feeling weak when he pumps it in and out of you slowly.

He lets himself test your reactions, seeing if the insertion is too much — if it hurts or feels uncomfortable. It doesn’t seem to be, and he slowly lets his ring finger join with his middle, causing you to roll your eyes back slightly.

“So good for me, baby,” he encourages. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes,” you reply almost immediately.

He kisses your neck. His lips leave hot, wet marks all over your skin as he curls his fingers against your g-spot. His other hand quickly comes to your waist, stabilizing you as you whimper against the back of your hand, trying your best to keep quiet.

He circles his thumb faster, his fingers circling and brushing against your g-spot in tandem with his movements. You feel your orgasm looming over you, and with a certain pressure against your clit, you’re coming undone just as he said you would all over his fingers.

“There you are,” he coaxes you. You’re a whimpering mess, and he feels his dick twitch at the sight of you falling apart on his fingers. He helps you ride out your high, his fingers very gently brushing over your clit as you come down.

Once you're calmed down, you reach around you, playing with his belt loop as you rest your head on his shoulder and look up at him. He looks back down, hesitating again knowing what you want but unsure if it’s too much for you to handle yet.

“What,” he smiles teasingly with a kiss to your forehead.

“I want you,” you candor, looking at up him with pleading eyes.

He kisses your nose. “Are you sure? You said it hurt last time.”

You nod. “Please, Koo,” you beg him.

His chest rises, and he takes a deep breath before he nods, kissing you gently as he unbuckles his belt. He places it on the counter before unzipping himself and pulling his pants down. It springs up, pressing itself against your skin gently. But he takes himself in his hands, hesitantly letting it slide down over your folds. 

“Let me know if I’m hurting you, okay?” He says, lining himself up to you with a few strokes of his cock. God, was he nervous. The last time sex hurt really bad for you, and that was just a week ago. He wonders if the prep was enough; he hopes it was, he really doesn’t want to hurt you again.

You nod, holding onto the countertop again as his tip rubs against your entrance. Your coat his cock in such slickness, even you’re surprised at how much you leak onto him. You miss your husband. You need this bad, and so does he.

“Oh, and try to stay quiet, yeah?” He says with a push of his hips. The motion has him covering your mouth with his hand, shielding your moans quickly. “The baby is still sleeping.”

His dick slips past your folds so smoothly, it has you gasping for breath at how good it feels. It’s nothing like the last time. He’s gentler, but still so so big, he fills you up just right.

“Fuck,” he whispers against your neck once he sheathes himself fully inside of you. The man behind you stills, completely overwhelmed with the feeling of you. He, too feels like he’s had to relearn sex all over again. How to please you right now that your body has changed, how to make sure that you are comfortable with his pace and size. You two haven’t had sex like this in so long, he feels overwhelmed when you feel almost too good for him to control. A part of him is embarrassed by how quickly he thinks he’s going to last. 

“How are you still so tight, hm?” he asks with a firm grip on your hip. “Y-You okay?”

You can only nod, pushing your hips down against him. The motion forces him further into you, to which both of you grunt at the feeling.

Testingly, Jungkook pulls out slowly, before pushing back into you a little quicker than before. You coat him generously, creating a motion that makes it easy for him to repeat. 

He develops a pace, fucking you against the kitchen countertop with your juices leaking all over his cock and down your thighs. The stove is on and your baby still sleeps; there are uncut vegetables in front of you and your husband still wears his work shirt. But he fucks you as if none of that matters. As if his only priority is to make sure you feel good, to let yourself go as he fuck you deep and just how you like it. 

His hand comes off from your mouth and settles on your hip. His other hand wraps around your front, holding you impossibly close against his body.

You moan softly when he bends you over slightly against the countertop, the new angle making it hard for you to stay quiet. But you push your hips against him anyway, telling him without words to go deeper.

The action causes him to moan, following your request with a snap of his hips.

“You like it that much, hm?” He grunts, cock ramming into you. “Like it when I knock you up good?”

“Y-Yes!” You whisper. “I love it so much, Koo.”

“Y-yeah?” He leans over you. A tattooed hand cups over yours, palm embracing the back of your hand as he intertwines his fingers with yours. “Gonna let me do it again?”

“Mmhm,” you squeeze his fingers. “As many times as y-you want.”

“A-Ah,” he pants, mind going into a frenzy over your words. The fact that he is yours, that you are his. That only he can hear you say that. That only he can make you feel this good. That only he has the privilege of calling you his wife. It makes his heart warm and his cock twitch. 

“God, I’m going to ruin you if you say things like that, Y/n,” he warns. But you are relentless, leaning your head back on his shoulder, giving yourself to him further. 

“W-Want you to,” you whimper. “I love you.” 

Your legs shake, completely weak from your past orgasm and your new one forming at the pit of your stomach. His cock makes you feel so full, like you’re stretched to the max capacity as he fucks you good. You know he’s close when his dick twitches inside of you after your words, which only encourages you to gain some strength and begin fucking yourself back on his cock.

“Mm, fuck,” he grips your hips tightly. “M’ gonna cum.”

He quickly reaches around you again, drawing infinities over your clit with his middle finger. His eyes roll back as your cunt naturally tightens at the feeling. Your hips jolt and the knots in your tummy slowly start to unravel themselves onto his dick as you come undone. Just as he had promised, with a final twitch, he’s cumming inside of you with hot, thick ropes filling you up with whispered exhales of your name on his lips.

He lets the two of you catch your breath, his forehead resting on your shoulder before he’s pulling out, shared cum leaking down your thighs and onto the floor. Quickly, he grabs a paper towel from the roll next to the stove and cleans you up a little.

With gentle hands, he helps you back into your sweats before he helps himself into his boxers. He still lingers behind you when he reaches a hand around you and turns the stove on a higher setting once again. 

You turn around, wrapping your hands around his neck as you pull him in for a much-needed kiss. “I love you,” you whisper against him again. His hair falls onto your skin, dark locks intertangling with yours as his fingers come up to hold your face against his. Soft lips sear over yours, telling you things that simply cannot be put into words. 

“I love you, too,” he brushes his nose against yours. “Was that okay? I didn’t hurt you?”

You pause, looking up at his dilated pupils. He looks at you like you're his world; like he's given you his heart with the full intent of never receiving it back from you. You nod, kissing him softly again. 

“You should probably wake up your son now,” you poke his cheek.

Looking at the time on the microwave, he snaps out of his daze. “Oh fuck,” he says as his fingers leave your side. You watch him leave you with a chuckle, turning back to your pasta wondering how in the world you go so lucky to marry and mother a kid to this man. You’d truly give him anything he wanted. 

***

[Bonus]

With gentle hands, so big against his baby’s frame, he picks Jaemun up in his arms, holding him against his chest. His dinosaur blanket swaddles him softly, and Jungkook does his best to make sure he’s correctly supported and held despite the extra fabric over his small frame. 

Jaemun stirs, and Jungkook places a soft kiss on his tiny head before he gets the chance to freak out and cry. The baby seems to know exactly who is holding him, and he nearly falls back asleep at the familiarity of his father’s arms. But Jungkook bounces him against his chest softly, slowly waking him up for dinnertime.

He makes his way over to you, making unnecessary airplane noises, from what you assume is Jungkook pretending to be an airplane and his son the passenger.

“You know, babies can’t laugh until they’re about 4 months,” you shake your head with a laugh.

“False,” your husband comes behind you again. “I swear he’s laughed before.”

You chuckle, taking the pan off the stove and pouring the insides into a strainer. Just the noodles are left in the strainer now, and you realize that you haven’t thought past the part of boiling the noodles. You ignore that you have no idea what kind of pasta you’re making when Jungkook rests himself against the kitchen island. 

Jaemun catches sight of you, and his arm reaches for you in Jungkook’s hold. You come over, giving him a kiss on the forehead before kissing your husband.

“Were you serious?” your husband asks you suddenly. 

“About?” you raise your eyebrow. 

“You know,” he gulps, holding Jaemun a little tighter. He rests against Jungkook's shoulder, his eyes tempting to fall back asleep again. “More kids.” 

You raise both your eyebrows again, looking at him as if he was serious. His heart beats faster when he realizes what you’re thinking, quickly rephrasing himself. 

“N-Not now, of course,” he gulps. 

You turn around, opening the fridge for some milk for Jaemun as you listen to him. You take out a pot, take the cased breast milk from earlier, and pour it in, turning on the stove afterward. 

“I just mean, like, in the future,” he explains.

There’s a long pause as you wait for the pot to heat up enough. The man behind you is weak, and you don’t know if you want to be mean and give him the blunt answer, or soften the blow. Watching how he cradles your son makes you want to go with the first choice. 

“Don’t you worry Jeon,” you start, as you stir the contents in the pot. You can hear him gulp behind you. “I planned on giving you as many babies as you want. But at least wait until Jaemun is in pre-school or something. I don’t think I can handle two infants at once.” 

You hear little from him at your answer, leaving you smirking knowing full well that you put the man behind you in a frenzy imagining the future you just laid out for him.

***

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2023]

#jk #jeon #jungkook #jeongguk #jeonjungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkookxreader #jungkook x y/n #jungkookxy/n #jungkook fanfiction #jungkookfanfiction #bts fanfiction #btsfanfiction #btsfanfic #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jungkookimagine #jungkook oneshot #jungkook x female reader #jungkookxfemalereader #jungkook smut #jungkooksmut #btsimagine #jungkookoneshot #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts x y/n

[yueebby]

all mine — gojo satoru

synopsis. It’s the exchange event and gojo doesn’t like how that kyoto boy is looking at you. 

contents.  fluff, jealous!gojo, minor male oc, loosely based on that one jujutsu scroll, satoru is really insufferable and problematic but in his defense he is lovesick

gojo satoru is seething. he knows that you’re good looking, but he doesn’t need the entire world to know that either. if it were up to him, your beauty would be for his eyes only. 

especially not that kyoto third year who has been eyeing you since your arrival.

it was sickening, really. and to add salt to the wound, you have been oblivious to it all. one moment, gojo has his arms draped around your shoulders, and in the blink of an eye, you were being whisked away by that third year.

“please don’t do what i think you're trying to do,” shoko’s unamused voice breaks his train of thought. her knowing gaze made gojo chuckle.

“who, me? why do you assume i’m plotting something?” gojo feigns innocence, hoping his friend couldn’t sense the vicious wave of cursed energy that was leaking out of him. 

shoko doesn’t bother telling him that his usual sky blue eyes were darker, clouded with annoyance or whatever angsty emotion he was dealing with. suguru snorts at his best friend’s silent torment.

“he’s kinda cute,” shoko places a hand on her hip while she observes you conversing with the brown haired third year from kyoto. he was probably a clan kid, judging by his traditional kimono design for a uniform. “you think [name]’s into him?” she eggs gojo on with a smirk on her lips. 

suguru bumps his shoulder against hers as a silent warning.

it takes a moment for satoru to process shoko’s conclusion, the realization evident on his face as his eyes slowly widened. 

“like hell she is.” satoru’s fist clench and he thinks that he will explode if you keep entertaining that stupid kyoto boy. why waste your time with a weakling, when satoru, who was much worthier of your attention was standing just a couple of meters away in the same courtyard? satoru glares at you from above his glasses, hoping you can feel just an ounce of the anger he feels. 

you don’t. 

he thinks he dies a little bit on the inside. in fact, he thinks you’re purposefully messing with his mind with the way you playfully smack the kyoto boy’s shoulder with the same soft hand that gojo has dreamed of holding since his first year. 

“stop being dramatic and let's warm up. we have team battles today.” annoyance is evident in suguru’s voice. yaga had warned the duo that if either of them acted up during the exchange event, the consequences would be dire.

“dramatic?” he scoffs, his glare not wavering. “she has the audacity to look beautiful in the presence of other men. she’s doing this on purpose.” his arms are crossed now.

exasperated looks are exchanged by his two friends.

screw whatever yaga said. without wasting another moment, satoru forced his way in your direction, ignoring suguru's attempt to stop him. shoko, however, held suguru back. "don't," she said, her eyes fixed on gojo. "i want to see what this idiot will do."

suguru sighed, acknowledging that gojo deserved whatever was coming his way.

you realize that perhaps you are too lenient with gojo satoru. you have forgiven every stunt he has pulled, but the look on his face right now as he approaches you with a wide grin makes you sense that might end now.

“wifey!” he closes the space between you. you furrow your eyebrows at the unfamiliar pet name. “how could you leave me for some kyoto scum?” 

you choke on air at his blatant insult to the boy in front of you. 

“ah, i apologize, i couldn’t help myself but steal her when i saw her. i’m ishikawa daisuke–”

“what a bold statement to say to her husband!” gojo doesn’t spare ishikawa a second glance, choosing to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. too shocked to move, you let gojo relish in the intimate action. 

you’re equally as surprised as ishikawa at satoru’s declaration, a strangled noise escaping from your mouth. the idea of gojo as your husband… it was enough to make your brain short circuit. where did he even get the idea from?

ishikawa’s eyes are blown wide, any semblance of self confidence thrown out of the window,  “i-i apologize for the misunderstanding. i wasn’t aware you were already married so young.” he stutters, bowing deeply to gojo who is smirking with a hand on his hip. 

“damn right we are. i knew i had to tie the knot with this beauty the moment i met her.” satoru proudly exclaims, his gaze softening when it returns on you. the initial shock is starting to wear off and you are shooting gojo your harshest glare. satoru’s antics seem to never end.

“isn’t my wifey the cutest?” he coos down at you, tapping your nose with a single finger. you are tempted to bite it off. 

“gojo satoru, you are the most insufferable man that i know,” you point at his chest angrily. “the most delusional too.” you mutter.

 he places a pained hand to his chest,  “you know other men? you’re killing me sweetheart.”

ishikawa coughs awkwardly, reminding you of his presence. you give him your best sympathetic look.

satoru, annoyed that your attention is off of him once again narrowed his eyes at the brown haired boy, “shouldn’t you be practicing with the rest of the kyoto weaklings? i recommend you to do so if you don’t want to be killed on the battlefield today.” satoru’s voice is an octave lower. 

“satoru!” you’re startled by his indirect threat, quick to defend your senior who looked like he was moments away from pissing his pants. 

“i-if you will excuse me.” ishikawa bows deeply once again before scurrying away without another word. you watch him hopelessly. the moment ishikawa is gone, satoru’s intimidating aura is replaced with a pout as he crosses his arms bitterly. 

“if you wanted my attention you could’ve just asked.” satoru exhales forcefully with a hmph. his arms are still crossed and if it weren’t for the fact that he had acted utterly out of line, you would almost go as far as calling him cute. 

“excuse me?”

“you were trying to get my attention,” he points out. “you don’t have to y’know.” my eyes are always on you. the words die on his lips.

a scoff leaves your mouth, disbelief is evident on your face, “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“you do!”

“are you jealous or something?” the idea that the great gojo satoru was sick with envy amused a cruel part inside of you.

“who? me? what could that country bumpkin have that i don’t?” he sounds almost offended at your accusation. 

“he’s nice.”

“i can be nice!" satoru whines. there is desperation in his eyes. "i bought a can of tuna for that stray cat the other week, remember?”

“yeah, but he’s nice to people. he’s also polite and-”

“alright i get it! you don’t have to keep talking about him.” satoru's eyebrows furrow in sync with the way his bottom lip slightly juts out. “i just didn’t like how he looked at you.”

“and how did he look at me?” 

satoru grumbles. was it not obvious enough? “his gaze was devouring you like you were his or something. honestly, what a loser. he’ll have to get in line.”

frustration laces your words as you challenge him, “you can’t just march around scaring off all of the guys that i talk to. i want you to admit that you were jealous."

satoru's jaw drops.

"you can't be serious." he protests, cerulean eyes widening. "i'm starting to think you like torturing me." you smile at his comment. you were indeed doing this on purpose.

"oh but i am completely serious," you reply with faux innocence, eyes blinking at him. “satoru.” you enunciate each syllable of his name, dealing the finishing blow.

he folds. you were being so unfair.

"i was jealous." he confesses petulantly. your grin widens as he admits his jealousy. the victory, however, is short-lived as satoru seizes the opportunity to sneak in another flirty comment. “it’s not my fault my dream girl happens to be everyone else’s.”

a groan escapes your lips, and you take your hand, lightly flicking his forehead. satoru accepts the physical contact happily.

"when will you give this bit up?" you retort, raising an eyebrow. 

“when i finally put a ring on that finger,” satoru winks. you regard his words with skepticism, oblivious to the fact that he was dead set on it.  gojo satoru was going to make you his, or at least die trying.

remember spring days masterlist

extra notes:

prior to the exchange event, utahime actually warned ishikawa that you were off limits. she didn’t elaborate why.

poor ishikawa seemed to be the target of most of satoru’s attacks during the team battle.

tokyo won the event by an overwhelming amount.

“i deserve victory kisses for carrying tokyo to victory, right [name]?” satoru had teased you on the way home.

you pretend to think about it, “hmm i think suguru’s curses were quite helpful. he’s the one that deserves the kisses.”

satoru had never moved faster in his entire life to cover your mouth with the palm of his hand and whisk you away from his best friend who had joined in your joke.

#kt.writes.·:*¨༺ #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojou satoru x you #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojou x reader

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Hello! I've read your soap and price fics and you are amazing!!!

I had an idea for a fic for Ghost. The reader would be Soaps slightly older sister who isnt like Johnny at all. Im thinking she either picks up soap from base after an op or from the bar. I'll leave alot of this up to you but i just wanna see Soaps Sister meeting Ghost!!

Brother's Coworker

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Soap's Sister!Reader

SYNOPSIS: In the dim illumination of the streetlights, Ghost lays eyes on a woman leaning against the body of a vintage Hillman Imp.

WORDCOUNT: 4.2k

WARNINGS: Little bit of angst, but mostly fluff and pre-relationship pining, loads of sibling banter, conflicting emotions, etc.

A/N: Finally able to use my sibling experiences for a fic lmfao, enjoy!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

The woman was leaning against the body of a vintage Hillman Imp, the custom color a deep forest green along the sides and a cream white coating the upper third. Ghost stared at her as the rest of the men filed out of the bar one after the other—Johnny and Gaz being especially loud. He blinks slowly, hands inside his blackened pockets.

Across the way, your ears perk slowly at the sound of rapturous shouts, but you only continue to look down the sidewalk at the long illuminations of street lamps and the glints of broken bottles on the ground. Over your chest, your hands shift in their hold on your biceps, your thin jacket crinkling. Light dances in your irises.

“Oi, is that who I think it is?!” Familiar Scottish drawl brings a smirk to your face, and you turn slowly to huff, snapping out of your silent thoughts. 

“Who else would it be, ya bloody git,” your voice carries, but it lacks the sheer volume of your brother’s; the great boom that reminds you of the bombs he’d used to make out of your mother’s hair spray bottles. 

Never a dull day in your childhood home, really.

“‘Bout gave me a heart attack, not answerin’ my calls like that!” Johnny laughs loudly, obviously drunk, and stumbles over merrily. You’re taken into a chest-breaking hug in mere moments, leaving you squirming with a deep grunt. “Should have your head, MacTavish.” You manage to squeak out, “Put me the fuck down, you horror. And what in the hell have you done to your hair?!”

“Oh, my dear sister.” Your brother lets you go as the three other men slink over, amused with the scene but some momentarily confused by the sudden introduction. Gaz laughs, and the Captain huffs a chuckle before fixing the position of his beanie on his head. 

Ghost, as always, chooses to watch like a looming shadow above the rest. 

Johnny puts a hand to his chest, the other remaining on your shoulder, “You wound me. Such cruelty stuck in your black soul; I say now, mother was always right—”

You smack the side of his head and Johnny grunts. 

“Ow!” He yells, glaring at you. “What the fuck?!” 

“Open your mouth again and I’ll wring you out, you arse. You know I will.” Grumbling, the Scot rubs the side of his head as you raise a brow at him. The stare-off lasts for a decent bit, and before the rest of the group knows what’s going on, the two of you are embracing each other once more; laughing loudly. 

Ghost’s eyebrows pull in slowly.

“Ah, it’s good to be back!” Johnny chuckles, holding you close as you pat his back.

“Of course, I’d find my kid brother at a damn pub on his first day home.” Taking a step away from the hulk of a boy, you brush down your shirt and jacket with a scoff. Looking up, you come to face the remaining men with an exasperated look. “He’s full of shite half the time, y’know, now. Can’t imagine what he puts you all through.”

“Bloody hell, Soap, you were holding out on us,” Gaz chuckles loudly, sticking out a hand for you to shake while he glances at the mohawked Scot who looks giddy despite being insulted by who’s very obviously his older sister. “Never knew you had siblings, Mate.” You take the man’s hand as he smiles brightly at you. 

“Kyle.” He says, and you beam back, “But Gaz’ll do just fine.”

“A pleasure,” your voice carries to John who you raise a brow at teasingly. “Well, look who the Reaper’s yet to drag down…Good to see you again, Captain.”

Price shakes his head, a smirk peeling his lips as Gaz steps back. 

“Still on that land of yours, then, Love?” The brunette asks gruffly, leaning back on his heels for a moment while you sag your side into Johnny’s arm. Your brother scoffs and loops his limb over the bridge of your shoulders as you nod. 

“You know it. Proper quiet when the neighbors aren’t up to a ruckus racin’ down the streets. Christ, those kids are devils—worse than Johnny and I when we were young.”

“Now that’s hard to believe, eh?” The man beside you laughs through his slurred words and you roll your eyes. 

Chuckling in return, you blink, spying on the intent black figure behind everyone else. Piercing brown eyes dig past flesh like a scalpel while you tilt your head to the side, interest alighting behind your skull. He doesn’t move or even greet you, just looks over you and then turns his attention to the street like a roaming bear would; hell, he certainly could be a bear with how big he was. Bigger than Johnny, even. 

This stranger wears a large brown leather jacket, the hood of his underclothes pulled up to cover most of the pale skin that would otherwise be visible. The long swish of light lashes captures you as you study the way he blinks slowly across the road. On his chin and on the top of his forehead, the fabric of a skeletal-painted balaclava shrouds him. Cargo pants and large black combat boots sit on his feet. 

He stands like a statue. 

“Who’s this then?” You call easily, and those eyes travel back to you even as the head doesn’t. It’s strange the way you seem to brush aside the blatant intimidation he exudes simply by standing.

“Ah,” John grunts, chuckling, before stepping to the side. “Simon, introduce yourself.” 

A low voice lowly wafts after a moment to silence, Manchester accent spearing you in the ears with its rough make-up, “Ghost.” 

You blink over at the Captain, but he just shakes his head and you move on. Johnny chuckles and whispers to you, “Don’t mind ‘em, Lt’s a bit rough around the edges.”

Plastering on a polite smile, your chin moves in a nod, “Pleasure to meet you, Ghost. Good to know the other two who look after Johnny out there.” The man beside you feels his face burn, free hand going to itch at his neck.

Ghost grunts and shrugs off the veiled praise, large muscles stiff.

“You’re actin’ like I’m not the one savin’ their skins half the time,” Gaz interjects on the Scot’s point.

“Is that what you call it?” You share an amused glance at John. 

Though, your eyes always sway back to Ghost, or Simon, depending on who you ask. He listens to the chatter, obviously, but he seems much more content to only stay with his hands inside of his pockets and study the street for...what exactly? The beast wasn’t shy, no, just…silent. If you didn’t know better you’d call him aggressively casual with the way his shoulders sit.

Stance relaxed but the underlying threat was palpable on the wind. Like a wolf rubbing his cheeks on the ancient trees of his territory. ‘Don’t do anything stupid,’ - it seems his very DNA states that.

Brown eyes suddenly lock with your own as if snapping into place and before you can release a squeak of alarm, you swiftly dart your gaze away back to the arguing Sergeants; face burning.

Christ, how long had you been staring at him?

“Alright, you two, ease off it!” Trying to distract yourself, you wave a hand. “You’re both too drunk to be gettin’ into street fights at this hour. Johnny, into the car ya fool.” 

Your brother slashes you with a grin.

“Fuckin’ finally, a decent bed!” It was tradition to give Johnny the spare room when he was back home—proper meals. 

“You’re callin’ mother, y’know.” You unlock your car and motion to the passenger seat with a frown. “I dinnae care if you’re trapped for hours—give the woman a rest of all her worrying.” 

“You heard the woman, Sergeant,” John forces the gravel out of his throat, rubbing at his beard. Something hits your chest as your brother opens his door as you stand in the cold. You glance at each man in turn; eyebrows pulling in with thought.

“Ah, what the hell,” your voice huffs out. Ghost watches you closely, blinking as he lifts a hand to itch at his neck from under his hood. The leather jacket crumples with tiny shifts of worn-out material. 

“Don’t suppose you boys need any good beds to rest your heads on for the night?” Wiggling your keys, you pat the top of your Hillman as you slide to the driver's side. Johnny slinks inside his own and chuckles as he closes the barrier with a careful thunk. 

“Hospitality finally leakin’ in?”

“Next time I hit ya,” you send him a bland look, “I’ll aim for the neck.” Fake flinching towards him, the man squeaks and snaps quickly back into the car door as you snicker lively. 

“Beast!” Johnny exclaims. You roll your eyes and shimmy down the window behind him, calling out as the rest share glances.

“Get in if you’re comin’ over! If not all the food I made yesterday’ll go to waste!” That seemed to get Gaz into the back, with only Price and Simon left behind. 

Brown meets blue and John’s beard pulls back with a smirk. He clears his throat, “Well, I’m not one to spit in her face.” The Captain walks over and grunts as he bends down. 

Ghost sighs under his breath and follows, impartial as to where this night is going. He wouldn’t sleep tonight, no doubt. The hard and unforgiving beds on base were the only things he could rest on now save the ground. And food? He could go without food for days.

Though, being Johnny’s sister bought you some favor, trust wasn’t something that Simon gave around freely. But the car you drove was nice, and the company of his Task Force was easy to basque in until they shipped out again. 

Simon sits down on the refurbished seat and softly closes the door behind him. Dead-eyed, he stares at Johnny’s headrest as you glance at him from the rearview mirror—seeing his shoulder dig into the glass of the window. 

You shove down a joke and hum. “Good, then, it’ll free my fridge at the very least.” 

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Gaz offers as you start up the engine, “it’s awfully nice of you to do this for us.”

“Ah,” Simon hears you dismiss as he turns to stare out of the window; so often feeling his gaze drawn back to you as a leaf attached to a tree might act. “Don’t worry your head about it. I like the company.” 

“Aye, just how she is,” Johnny says earnestly. “Was always the one to let me over with my pals when the football games were over—’cept we were usually covered in mud.”

“I’m still finding grass in my rugs, Johnny Boy,” you mumble, focusing on the road as a slight squeaking emanates from the front of the car. Simon picks up on it easily, not preoccupied with speaking. He glances at you but mentions nothing beyond a shuffling of his thighs. 

Outside the land slides past in shades of verdant green and gray as the town falls away. 

He was confused, rightly. You’d seen his standoffish nature but had chosen to extend hospitality as the old Greeks did just off a growl of his name. But maybe it was just because he was your brother’s coworker. 

Simon grunts to himself and rubs at his wrist. Throughout the ride, the two of you would glance at each other and try to forget that you had; when the long driveway of a large secluded home expands out above the car, Gaz whistles lowly.

“Bloody hell, Ma’am,” he states and John chuckles. You easily smile and roll your eyes. 

“Trust me, it was more work than it was worth.” Ghost’s attention is slightly peaked.

“You worked on it?” His tone implies he doesn’t care, but his eyes gore into the mirror to lock with your own. Blinking in surprise, even the others seem to be taken aback by the man's lack of venom in his speech. 

Ghost wasn’t afraid to speak his mind when he needed to, but he didn’t do mindless chatter. Your eyes cycle between the driveway and the masked Brit before you clear your throat. Johnny glances at you with a raised brow, slight confusion in his brows. 

“Mostly—left the nasty bits to people more knowledgeable than I am, but I did most of the grunt work, eh?” Simon hums as the car pulls to a stop inside the garage, eyes not leaving the back of your head. 

Your neck bristles at the sensation of unrelenting contact, but the burning that joins it is telltale. Licking your lips you twist the keys out and quickly shuffle out of the door to dispel the electricity in the air. 

“Alright,” you say, “out. All of ya…Johnny, you’ll be helping me with the bedding.” 

A groan is cut by an unimpressed glare. “...Yes, Ma’am.”

You huff and smirk. 

“Trainin’ him well I see,” teasing John as they all file out of the car, he shakes his head at the two of you as Simon scoffs. Gaz openly laughs as Soap’s offended look grows. 

You all enter the house as you direct them to the kitchen after they’ve taken off their boots and hung their jackets. “It’s all in the fridge, heat what you want, and don’t bother fightin’ Johnny if he takes too much. Tell me and I’ll make him sleep in the back near the chickens.” Your voice tells them as you pat your brother on the shoulder. 

Johnny grumbles and kisses the top of your head. “You’re horrible to me,” He jokes but his eyes shimmer with affection. As you leave to get a head start on the rooms, you smile and call out to him.

“That’s my job!” 

Backing out into the hallway, you leave with a deep well of happiness in you. You don’t even realize that the party had only contained three men instead of four until you’re in the linen closet and a shadow suddenly blacks out the light from the bulbs. Jumping slightly, your head swivels as you carry very many sheets and pillowcases in your grip. 

“Oh,” you mumble through cotton, smile growing as the flip in your stomach does, “Ghost! Done eating already?” 

The man is still and silent as he glances from your face to the sheets. Without a word, he halves the load and steals them as your jaw loosens in shock.

“Johnny’s outside callin’ your mum.” Ghost turns and walks out, but waits for you in the hallway to be directed. 

You push down the tightness to your throat and see the man’s feet shift on the hardwood. He looks funny, such a big man carrying bed sheets. His actions make your heart speed up. Brown eyes blink at you like a cat. 

“Well,” you chuckle, “always was one to get out of housework.” Trying a smidge more, you shift past him and turn off the light. “His barracks room dirty?”

“Pigsty.” Simon blandly states, walking slightly behind you. Your pace slows so you can stay beside him. He side-eyes you but says nothing. 

Leaning in slightly, you quip as Ghost tenses, “Can’t say I’m surprised. The man’s used to me bailin’ him out.” Chuckling, you go into the first bedroom and put everything on the bed. 

Simon grabs the pillows and starts to dress them quickly and efficiently. 

“But thank you,” you say, and the Brit pauses to look up at you, something swirling in his murky gaze. Earnestly, you tilt your head with a smile. “Ya can go back and eat more if you want. No need to help—you’re a guest.”

“Not hungry,” is all he answers, and gets back to work. You watch for a moment, perplexed, but not at all about to deny the assistance. A genuine grin twitches your lips. 

“Johnny writes about you, y’know,” your fingers pull at the fabric and you chuckle as Ghost’s incredulous look turns to you—face hidden but confusion is obviously seen. “Says he looks up to you quite a bit; something about Mexico.” 

Your face dips slightly, and Simon’s body stills. Along the pillow, his grip carefully tightens. He can’t find it in himself to walk out of the door and stand outside even if he knows he should. 

“I really can’t imagine what it’s like,” you mutter, shaking your head. Gazing at him, you study his wound muscles and secret flesh like a tapestry—wondering if he hides himself because of the safe anonymity or a sense of numb fear. 

He wouldn’t admit to either, you know. But something about Simon had captured your attention and now you had a face, or just a body really, to put to the written name like a puzzle piece. 

You take a long breath, “But you’ll never know how grateful I am.” 

By the way his chest stops moving and his body goes frozen, you think you hit something inside of him; the minute widening of his eyelids like pedals opening in the light. Simon peers at your expression, his eyes sliding from one point to another. 

Like he can’t really pinpoint what you want. 

Ironic really, because you didn’t want anything. 

“Don’t thank me,” is what he settles on, moving back to the pillow as if your words hadn’t stabbed him. “Johnny knows what he’s doing.”

Your small snort enters the air above the sliding sheets. “There’s no argument there.” A sigh echoes as you finish up, putting your hands on your hips. Across the bed, you two stare as Simon tosses down the pillows. The remainder of the sheets sit on the end of the bed. 

The man’s eyes narrow on you, and he clenches his jaw under his balaclava. 

“The only thing that I do know is that every time my brother comes back he smiles less than he did before.” You side-eye him seriously as you move. “I can only guess what all of it does to the others who don’t have anyone else to go back to.”

Simon’s breath halts in his chest before he finds the means to take down a slow inhale. Brown eyes glare intently, jaw tight, but it’s not the fire that gets to you…it’s the lack thereof.

Ghost doesn’t like this feeling, and your candidness was something he hadn’t expected.

“So,” you drawl, “I’m thanking you for giving him someone to joke around with—a distraction,” a teasing smirk, “no matter how blunt.” 

“I just told you—”

“Well, I don’t bloody care, do I?” Huffing, you smirk and tip your head back before snatching the rest of the sheets. “C’mon, we have three more rooms.” 

Simon watches you leave and tries to fight the rampage in his chest; the merciless slam of his heart to his ribcage. What had you done to him? A hand comes up and rubs into the bridge of his nose, fingers heavy and tight. 

What in the hell was going on? 

Growling under his breath, Ghost stalks out of the room only to see your back disappear into the next. In the hallway, he takes a long inhale and closes his eyes to steady himself. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” the man grunts. The tension in his shoulders was plainly visible. 

For the remainder of the room, Ghost would send you tight glances as he worked but didn’t utter another peep. You had taken his voice, or what little left of it there was. 

In many ways, you were like your loudmouth brother—your snark and your stubbornness. But you were different too. 

He feels his eyes trail down your form slowly from time to time. Capable; hardy. Simon blinked away and grunted under his breath aggressively. 

When everyone was done with their food and Johnny had come back in from his call to his mother, with a soft smile on his face, you knew it was time for bed. 

“Alright,” you strut into the kitchen with Ghost on your heels—his large arms crossed over his chest as he caught Soap's intense stare. The Lieutenant's brow raises, but Johnny only frowns in conspiracy before he looks over to you and itches at his chin. “Beds are made. You can all thank Simon for that, seein’ as Johnny used our mother as an excuse yet again.”

“And she was very pleased to hear from me!” Your brother points to you.

“She’s our mother,” you deadpan, “It’s her job to be, ya arse-face.” 

The boys all follow you down the halls as you point to the rooms. Gaz shakes your hand again and gives you a tiny hug in thanks while John pats your shoulder and calls a soft, “Goodnight, Sweetheart.” 

Both close their doors and you hear the large sighs through the wood. You have to wonder when they’d had a good bed to sleep on and a good meal. Last was your brother and Ghost, the latter of which kisses your head and hugs you tightly. 

“It’s good to see you, truly. Been missing you, little Hen. Thanks for lettin’ me over all the time when I’m home.” You melt and grip his shirt. 

“You’ll always have a place here, you know that. One call away…Now go to sleep. You smell like a pub.” He lightly chuckles against you. With a bond this tight, the two of you never had to say that you loved each other—it was just known.

Johnny squeezes you one last time before pulling away and slinking into his room, giving an unrecognizable glance to Ghost on his way in before the barrier slips into place with a quiet thunk of wood. The two of you look at and stare for a moment. 

“Lucky you,” your voice is quiet but easy to hear, “you get the room with a view of the field.” 

“Color me surprised,” he mutters, not looking enthusiastic. Against the tone, the look makes your mouth jerk in a laugh, and you cover your lips after a moment. 

Simon’s eyes unconsciously soften. 

You wave a hand, chest light, “Let’s go then, you brute.”

“Brute?” Simon grumbles, “Gettin’ familiar?” 

“Please,” you shake your head and walk to the last door in this section of the house. “You all became familiar the second we met.” 

The man rolls his eyes but has his smirk hidden as you open the door for him. He tilts his head in thanks and strolls inside.

You hum, crossing your arms ahead of you and leaning on the doorframe as he looks around, “Don’t think too much over it… The baseline is, you’ll always have a bed here if you need it.” 

Ghost slips out, “What are you? Bloody boarding house?” The swelling in his chest made his words harsher than intended, but you just smile cheekily at him as eyes lock.

“Hell’s bells, if you want ta’ get me a business card just go ahead and print ‘em off already. I’ve no problem with it.” He stares and you laugh, shrugging. “Makes me feel good.”

Splaying your hands, you back out. 

“I know you probably won’t sleep,” Simon pauses, feeling caught but not showing it. “Libraries down the hall—if you smoke, use the back door. Kitchen is free game.”  

“Why?” He asks and you blink, confused.

“Well, why not?” Simon glares.

“You shouldn’t trust people like that.” A loud laugh echoes and makes the man annoyed with you.

“Simon,” you say, and he finds himself hanging on every word that falls from your lips in the moonlight. “Not everyone is out to get you. If you’re friends of Johnny’s, then you’re friends of mine. That boy can sniff a cheat faster than a hound can find a hare.” Perhaps it was the way his shoulders went back at that, or how his brows loosened, but you finish off with a soft explanation. “You’re safe under this roof.”

You wondered, not for that last time that night, if he’d ever been told that. From how his balaclava moved with a sharp jerk of his jaw, you assumed never. It made your lungs hurt. 

With a few more seconds of quiet gazing you nod and move back. 

“Goodnight, Simon.” You leave him staring at the door as you close it—eyes boring into the grain so harshly they might catch fire. 

Ghost doesn’t know how long he stays like that, but his ears twitch at the echo of running water and soundless footsteps. He should leave, he tells himself; this is dangerous, a voice hisses. It’s not safe here, how could it be? There were no guards—no weapons. If someone were to sneak in there wouldn’t be an alarm. 

A secluded home. Nothing around. 

Then why had your words seeped into him?

“You’re safe under this roof.” Simon closes his eyes harshly.

—

In the morning once everyone’s gone back to the base, you admit you don’t know if you’ll see Simon again; you probably won’t. But you find that you can live with that. The memory of his loosening tension is all you need to feel special in your own right. Those brown eyes that, if but for a moment, had bled so effortlessly feelings of something other than blood and death. 

As you sigh a dreamy chuckle to yourself, you get ready for the day before heading to your Hillman. The silent drive to work joins with the strange mix of weight and levitation to your chest. But halfway into town, it hits you. 

Silent.

There is an obvious lack of squeaking from under the hood of your car as you slide along the countryside. 

The smile doesn’t leave your face for weeks.

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