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readsaboutreid · 24 hours

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Fantasies

this is smutty smutty smut smut so it's 18+, minors please dni

honestly this is just like a fantasy of mine inspired by how wildly hot this entire exchange is what can i say i'm a scifi girlie (gender neutral) and i figured it might make a good fic so here goes nothing

this is part 1 of 2

contains: unprotected sex (creampie), oral (f receiving), munch!spencer, softdom!spencer

“—but the reason the entire ritual was considered taboo wasn’t because Vulcans were supposed to be portrayed as prudish virgins, that’s all I’m saying,” (Y/N) ranted at JJ and Prentiss, gaining amused but shocked and confused stares from the two of them. When they had found out about her relationship with Spencer they might less than shocked but they had never seen her ramble like this in such a Reid-esque fashion.

Penelope Garcia, being ever the one to playfully tease her best friend decided to push the young agent’s buttons a little bit by playfully arguing back, “but then why all the secrecy around the ritual when it comes to other species knowing about it?” Which made (Y/N) roll her eyes in response and groan, and earning her glances from JJ and Prentiss that screamed why would you keep this going for longer?!

"Fucking Christ, Penny, you should know this, ugh—the ritual of Pon Farr is considered taboo because of the depth of emotions experienced by the Vulcans as they enter it, not because it has to do with sexual reproduction; Vulcans have sex outside of Pon Farr and we know this for a fact not only because Trip is literally told outright that Vulcans have sex by a Vulcan when he asked, but also because if Vulcans only ever copulated during Pon Farr, then Vulcan generations would always be seven years apart in age," her exasperation was nearly palpable as she ranted speedily, gaining good spirited laughter from Garcia as she watched her friend rage over something that they all knew in the end was fairly insignificant.

Spencer watched this entire exchange from his desk across the bullpen with a fond smile and a warm, floaty feeling blooming across his chest. That's when Garcia notices him staring from his desk and decides to literally drag him into the discussion, deciding that everyone must join in the procrastination socialization. "What the—hey!" Spencer barely managed to steady himself and keep from falling out of the chair.

"I wanna know what our resident boy wonder has to contribute to the discussion," Penelope laughed in a singsong-y voice as she got him to the table they were all congregating at together and rolled him right up next to the chair on which (Y/N) was perched.

She looked over at him and shot him a small wave and a quiet, "hi, love." And he melted. Instantly.

Her smile was so sweet Spencer could do nothing for s moment but respond with his own toothy, lovestruck grin. He was snapped back to reality by Garcia literally snapping in front of him and chiding (Y/N) as she said, “what have you done to this boy? Are you a freakin’ witch or something?” Spencer and (Y/n) both laughed and Garcia then continued, "so, Reid, do you agree with (Y/N)’s impassioned rant?"

"Oh! Right," Spencer shook his head, "no, she's 100% correct. The ritual of Pon Farr does not solely dictate when Vulcans have sexual relations. It is simply a period of heightened emotions and bonding for them." He looked at (Y/N) with another soft smile, proud that she had such a vast knowledge of Star Trek lore.

"See, Penny? Even the genius agrees with me," (Y/N) teased playfully, earning a chuckle from the team and a light blush from Spencer.

Garcia clapped her hands together excitedly, “Well then let's—”

“—I’m sorry to interrupt, but we have a case,” Garcia’s bubbly lilt was cut off by the stern tone of Agent Hotchner as he summoned them to the briefing room. Everyone broke apart at that, following their Unit Chief to the round table. As they all took their seats Spencer made sure to sit by (Y/N) so he could secretly slip her hand into his under the table to cling to some semblance of goodness as they were filled in on the next of the worst of humanity they had to face.

Spencer and (Y/N) laid together in his bed as they always did after particularly rough cases. He ran his finger gently up and down her barely clothed back when she uttered a soft, “hey I have this, like, sort of random question.”

“Oh? What would that be?” Spencer whispered into her hair, half asleep.

“Do you have any, like, fantasies you’d wanna ?” Spencer was confused by her question and the look on his face as she looked up at him told her as much, so she clarified, “like, sexually?"

Well, now he was up. In multiple ways. He reached over and turned on his lamp and stammered out, "uh—w-what—where did that come from?" Spencer's voice rose multiple octaves while his heart skipped a beat.

"Well I just—," she started before cutting herself off and making a face that said she was thinking about how exactly she wanted to explain her thought process. "There's something I've been thinking about for a couple weeks." Her cheeks tinged pink if the soft light of his desk lamp as she shyly looked up at him through her lashes in a way that made his pajama pants start to feel uncomfortably tight.

"Oh? What would that be?" Spencer found himself echoing his first question, unable to focus on anything that wasn't (Y/N) her nipples were peeking through her thin tank top.

"Do you, um, do you remember that conversation about Pon Farr me and Penny were having a little while back?" She whispered, seeming embarrassed to be bringing it up.

"I do," he confirmed, nodding while he finally moved his eyes from her chest to her face, "why do you ask?" He leaned down and began peppering her face with soft kisses, drawing a symphony of giggles from her, before moving from her cheeks down her chin and then to her neck.

Her giggles turned to soft moans and she tried her best to form a response, but as Spencer began sliding his hand up underneath the fabric she found herself struggling to think through the haze. She finally managed to mutter a soft, "I just—mmm—the conversation got me thinking that it might be—fuck, Spencer—to kind of, like, roleplay sometime—holy shit, Spencer, please don’t stop!" His fingers had found their way to her nipples and while she spoke he began gently teasing and tormenting them.

As Spencer continued to explore the sensitive skin of (Y/N)'s chest, she couldn't help but let out another moan, causing Spencer to pause momentarily to look into her eyes. "Roleplay?" Spencer whispered hoarsely, his voice laced with both excitement and curiosity as his fingers continued their dance on her skin. "What did you have in mind?"

(Y/N) bit her lip nervously, her eyes darting around the room as if seeking inspiration. "Well," she began hesitantly, "I was thinking something along the lines of, uh, maybe a kind of Trek-themed scenario? Like, you could be a Vulcan, and I—I could be your mate?" She trailed off, her voice barely above a whisper as she watched Spencer's expression.

"And what would that involve, exactly?" he asked, his voice low and sultry, his fingers still gently stroking her nipples.

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment, her cheeks flushing a delicate shade of pink. "Well, it might involve—uh, well, you know, some intimate bonding rituals."

Spencer laughed softly, the sound warm and low in the dimly-lit room. "You want me to roleplay as a Vulcan during Pon Farr and have 'intimate bonding rituals' with you?" he teased, a playful grin spreading across his face. "I can't say I've ever really thought about that before, but I'm willing to give it a try." He began trailing kisses from her neck down to her chest while he tugged on the hem of her shirt, pulling it of her when she raised her arms above her head for him.

He started trailing kisses down her stomach, stopping when he reached the waistline of her pajama shorts and looking up at her through his eyelashes. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her shorts and panties, and she lifted her hips instinctively so he could slide them down her legs. Spencer moved back up her body to kiss her softly on the lips before getting up off of the bed and standing at the edge, rotating (Y/N) 90° and gently pulling her until she was lined up at the edge of the bed before spreading her legs open and kneeling down in front of her slowly.

(Y/N) shuddered with anticipation at the feeling of his breath gently hitting her dripping center. When she looked down at him he was looking up at her, his amber eyes burning with lust and his pupils blown wide. He licked his lips before leaning in and kissing her burning core softly while running his tongue out to lap up some of the beautiful slickness that had accumulated with a soft moan. He tormented her with light teases from his tongue and her hips bucked up towards his mouth, making him use one of his hands to hold them down and look up at her with a stern expression that told her, 'hold still or I'll stop.'

She whimpered at the loss of his tongue, but it was only for a split second as she felt his index finger push up against her entrance. He teased the entrance by lightly moving up and down it, collecting her honey and bringing it up to his lips and licking it off before bringing his finger back. When he started slowly pushing his finger inside of her, he attached his lips to her clit and did a delightful thing with his tongue that made her nearly see white.

She reached down and tangled her fingers in his hair and gasped out a soft, "Spencer that feels so—oh god—so fucking good!" He slowly pumped his finger in and out of her, savoring the sensation of her soft walls around it. God, how he wanted to be inside of her right now. But there was no way he was going to be able to drag himself away from her pussy, not yet. He needed more. He slipped another finger into her and sucked on her clit, running his tongue around it in circles.

He kept this up and listened to her moans for guidance and encouragement, speeding his fingers up ever so slightly and feeling her body begin to tense up underneath him. Her moans began to increase in volume and frequency, her grip on his hair growing tighter as his fingertips ran across the spongy piece of flesh on the front wall of her pussy, earning a loud and desperate wail from (Y/N) as he felt her orgasm begin to take over her.

He moaned as he lapped up her juices and gave her pussy one last kiss before wiping his mouth and chin with his write and moving back up to kiss you desperately. He settled his clothed hips between her soaked legs and she ground her hips against his erection through his pants. He rocked his hips against her, finding a perfect rhythm. He moaned into her mouth before pulling back and standing up, untying the drawstring on his pants to pull them and his briefs down in one swift movement.

He took his place on top of her again and nestled his cock up against her entrance. She reached down between their bodies and stroked his throbbing member before guiding it to her entrance. He wasted no time, pushing into her immediately and groaning in relief. For a brief second he could only think in images and single word fragments. 'Soft, wet, warm,' swirled around his mind in a whirlwind of lust and pleasure as he sank into her further, burying his cock fully inside of her.

"I, uh, I don't know how long I'm going to be able to, uh, last," Spencer admitted with a small, embarrassed laugh. (Y/N)'s only response was to roll her hips against his, drawing a surprised moan from his throat.

"I honestly don't care," she panted, "I just need you to fuck me." She looked at him with a gaze that drove him absolutely mad with lust. He pulled his hips back and began fucking her with slow but moderately hard thrusts, both of them moaning as they locked their lips together again. She met his thrusts with her own movements and brought her hands back up to tale her fingers in his hair. She tugged at it gently and he moaned and started fucking her faster in response.

"Such a good girl for me, kitten," he purred into her ear. Each moan that fell from her lips pushed him closer and closer to the edge, until he was teetering at the point of no return. "You ready for me to fill you up, baby?" She moaned and nodded in response.

Her nails dug into his shoulders and he felt her pussy begin to flutter around his cock as her second orgasm took her by surprise and ripped through her body. Loud moans spilled from the both of them as Spencer felt himself tip over the edge and stilled with one final thrust inside of her. His cock pulsed as it pumped all of his cum into her.

Once he had pulled out of her he went into the bathroom and cleaned himself off. He grabbed a washcloth and ran it under the warm water before walking back out. He knelt in front of (Y/N) and began to gently clean her up. When he was finished he planted a sweet kiss on one of her thighs before tossing the rag into the laundry basket. He crawled back into bed next to her and laid down on his back.

"You're too far away," he pouted at (Y/N) and held his arms out. She moved up and settled happily within them, resting her head on his chest and nuzzling gently. He began playing with her hair and sighed happily before muttering a soft, "I love you, (Y/N)."

"Love you, too, Spence," she mumbled, already half asleep.

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days

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Winter's King 12

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: have a good weekend.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You stand, still uncertain. You look at the king as he tilts his face up to the moonlight. The silver sheen washes over him with an unearthly glow. He looks lupine, much like your dream.

“Your highness?” You echo again, hands curling around the sides of your skirt.

“Will you continue to disregard my order?” He challenges as his gold eyes meet yours. You wince at the way they shine.

“No, your highness, I am only...” you hush yourself and clamp your lips tight. You turn and search around, numbly walking along the curve of the pond.

He growls as you reach the line of hedges into the next walkway.

“You will want to go much faster than that,” he warns as you hear him stand. “I will allow you some advance...” He exhales as you glance back at him, “ten...” he stares at you, his figure shrouded in shadow from far away, “nine...”

You blanch and tumble backward through the gap. You spin and stagger on your soles, throwing your arms out as your heart pulses madly. Something about his timbre, about his words, has you alight. There is something amiss about him.

You push your legs against your skirts and hurry blindly into the nocturnal void. The moonlight seeps in around the silhouette of leaves as you keep your hands ahead of you to prevent a collision. You try to see through the dark, like silk across your eyes, making out little more than hazy orbs.

You crash into a thicket of thorns and pull away from the rosy bunch. Their scent clings onto you as you turn to the left and dive down the next path. You don’t know these gardens, not like Debray. For all you know, you’re going even deeper.

You hear a step behind you and swirl to face it. You squint, trying to see who is there. Is it the king? Do you want it to be? What does he mean to do when he catches you? What is the meaning of this game?

You plunge back into a sprint, puffing as you pump your arms. You whimper and whine as you slow, legs heavy and feet dull. Where are you going? You don’t like this. You remember a night like this before, how the cold dew of the forest crept up your legs, feet hitting the earth in quick succession, the holler of men and snort of horses behind you.

You stagger and spin back. No, you can’t run anymore. You don’t like this. You don’t like those thoughts. That last night before you were taken to Debray, before you dawned the cap of your bearing. That orphan girl running from servitude.

You walk forward, shaking as you peer back and forth. You wade through the thick grey air. You hear a twig snap and a bush rustle, each noise from a different direction. Perhaps it is a rabbit or a chipmunk. You sniffle and wring your hands.

You must find the king. You will surrender this game and ask that he takes you back to the castle. You trudge over the beaten path and hear the soft trickle ahead. It must be the pond. The silver light blooms brighter as you come upon a space in the hedges.

Suddenly, there is only air beneath your feet. You kick out as something rigid wraps around your waist and lifts you. You wriggle desperately and cry out, your eyes tinging but not overflowing. Your fear has you clawing at the hold around your middle.

“Please, please, don’t hurt me!” You plead as you flail, “please, sir, I’ll go back to the castle--” you choke as the grasp on you slackens but your feet still do not meet the ground. You quiet as you recall your present, that you are not in that forest, that you are far from Debray.

You are sat upon the bench, the silver moon gleaming down on you as it outlines the broad shadow before you. King Geralt faces you, kneeling as you tremble and hug yourself. You put your head down in shame.

“Apologies, your highness, I was lost,” you reach to rub your cheek, flicking back your tears with your lashes, “I got confused.”

“No, it is I who should apologise, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he takes your hand between his big ones, “I only meant to make some fun.” He brushes his touch up your arms and squeezes as you drop your hand to your lap, “little maid, did I hurt you?”

You shake your head, “I was only... delirious. It is too dark out here. I cannot see,” you bite down and look away, “apologies, I did act out.”

“Little maid,” he tickles along your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine, “I would not let you get lost or hurt.” He tilts his hand to cradle your face, his thumb stroking your cheekbone, “what was it you were running from in your head? Who?”

“No one,” you lie. “Just a memory.”

“Memories are not just that,” he insists, “but I understand how they can hurt. Forgive me, treasure, I wasn’t--”

“Your highness,” the sullen voice has the king recoiling. He quickly plants his foot and stands. You rise as well, toying with that word he called you. Treasure. “The queen sends for you.”

Bryce steps out into the moonlight. You look at him then the ground. How long had he been there? How much had he heard?

“The queen,” King Geralt grumbles, “what is it she wants? It is late--”

“She would not say and I would not guess,” Bryce says, “but she screams for it. Like a yowling cat.”

The king sighs and lowers his head. He squares his shoulders and resets his posture. He steps away from you and gestures to his soldier. The king twists around and marches away. Bryce falls into pace with you as you follow. He is silent, you all are.

You approach the castle, guards lurking in the shadows, and are let past the front doors by a sombre pair. Inside, you follow the king through the great hall and up the stairs. You peek over at Bryce as you proceed down the corridor. He gently squeezes your wrist, just briefly, and carries on.

“Your highness,” Bryce speaks as you hear a racket ahead of you; screeching and crashing. “Should I escort the maid back to her chambers?”

“Cursed woman,” King Geralt mutters as he slows, Queen Jazlene’s door just ahead. He pauses and looks over his shoulder, “the cost of a kingdom...”

“Your highness?” Bryce prompts once again.

You echo him and step forward, “I could calm her. Bring some wine--”

“No, she will have no more of that,” the king declares sharply. “I wed her, I put my name next to hers, so it is I shall attend to her. Sir,” he looks at Bryce, “do as you suggest, put the maid in her chambers and I will put the queen in her place.”

“Aye, your highness,” Bryce bows his head and points you back, “come, maid, the night wears on.”

You glance up at the king. His golden eyes are wrought as his gaze holds yours for only an instant. You see the hesitation bob in his throat before he turns away. You mirror him and follow Bryce back along the corridor.

As you climb to the next floor and continue down another corridor, Bryce slows. He stops as he gets to the door and faces you. He takes a breath as he looks you up and down.

“It’s treacherous here in the summer kingdom,” he says, “but that will not change on the road. Mouse, you keep yourself well.”

“Thank you, sir, I am fine.”

“Aye, you do not take my meaning but you do not take the king’s either,” he puts his hand on his belt, “his favour might do you fine in this moment, but it is dangerous. Let not others notice so they may not envy it.”

You grimace and shake your head, “what do you mean?”

“Your little games do not need an audience. It is no tournament.”

Your chest sinks and your skin speckles. Is he accusing you of something?

“I... I haven’t done anything untoward. I would not, sir--”

“You may not,” he intones, “but we are all ruled by the will of the king.”

“Sir, the king is married to Lady Jazlene--”

“And we both see how they fare,” he states bluntly. “Carry my words with you, do with them as you may, but I could not leave them unsaid.”

Your eyes gloss and your nose tingles once more. He’s mad. Truly, he can’t think you and King Geralt. A maid and her master.

“I would not,” you repeat.

He huffs and nods curtly. He turns to the door and unlatches it, “go, rest your head while you can.”

“Sir Bryce--”

“I am bid protect you by the king,” he pushes the door inward and rests his hand on the frame, “not from him.” He looks past you, as if through, “little mouse, I do hope I am wrong as well but I know better than to depend on that.”

You shudder and tug at the end of your sleeve. You slump and drag your feet through the doorway. You stop, just inside, “good night, sir.”

He grunts and pulls the door shut. Your lip trembles as your heart races, just as it did in the garden. He is wrong. He must be. You saw yourself how the king is trying, he even said it was the queen he meant to game with earlier. It was only that she was too unwell. He said it!

And he goes to the queen’s chamber that night. He is not there. He has not been disloyal. The matter is not your concern. You serve wine, you lace gowns, you braid hair. You are only the maid.

⚔️

You return to the queen’s service the next morning. The world is a bit more familiar as you help her into her gown and twine her hair into an elaborate coif. Servants pass in and out of her chambers as they prepare for the royal party’s imminent departure.

“Why can we not keep this capital?” Queen Jazlene whines, “but my husband does insist on return to his frigid homelands.”

You say nothing as you sift through the old monarch’s jewelry chest. You present to her successor each gem, brooch, and chain. She has yet to turn any away though you wonder if there would be room in her already bustling luggage. Perhaps the cart will be a touch more crowded on your ride north.

“And yet my husband did come to me,” she boasts, “I think... hmm, well, perhaps this marriage won’t be so turbulent.”

You show her a cuff and she snatches it. She puts it on her wrist, turning her arm this way and that, as she oohs and aahs. She wiggles excitedly.

“I recall this piece. One year, when I came with father to court, the queen wore this cuff. You see the emeralds. I remember she was so proud of it even though all the court knew it was only gifted to her by her husband to distract from his mistress,” she trills, “oh, how foolish. But the old queen was so boring. It is a wonder the king didn’t dispose of her, who can blame him for taking an amour?”

She sighs and looks at the mirror, “and she wasn’t half so pretty as me.”

You remain silent, continuing to sort with her endless approval. You don’t think there is a single trinket she could ever turn away. You don’t see the need for so many of the same thing. Some stones are brighter than others but why not keep the brightest and do away with the rest.

“As I was saying,” she goes on, “last night when the king came to me, he was... almost meek. That man. Can you imagine? I admit I was distraught after the day I suffered but he listened and we spoke.” She strokes her fingers as she admires her oval nails. “There are some southern lords who will come north as well, some northern to stay behind. He says it will help us acquaint the two kingdoms into one.”

She drops her hands and pushes her shoulders straight, “he is wise. I suppose I should heed him if I am to be a good queen.”

You are want to agree but to do so aloud may be taken as insult. She might have done it sooner and saved herself some trouble. Yet it isn’t your place and you haven’t the wisdom of a queen. You’re merely a servant.

“Once I give him an heir, he will have to listen to me too. Yes, I will do what mother could never. Give my husband a son,” she drags her hand to her midsection, “I think last night...” she flutters her lashes dreamily. Her suggestion makes you squirm. Her and the king’s relations are hardly your concern. “It was better,” her voice is brittle, “even if...” she peers around and clamps her lips. She narrows her dark eyes, “close the door.”

You obey. You come back to her and return to your previous task. She reaches in to pluck out a string of pearls.

“He puts me on my stomach,” she whispers, almost as if she thinks you won’t hear, but she is speaking to you. There is no one else in the room. Perhaps she is only embarrassed that she has only to the courage to tell a maid. “And he behind me so I can’t see him and... he can’t see me but... but if he could...” she toys with the pearls, “if he’d just look at me, he might like it better.”

You lift a pair of medallions earrings and she ignores them. She tosses the pearls back in the chest and stands. You back away.

“He won’t let me touch him otherwise,” she mulls as she paces. “But he is warming. It is early, isn’t it? And compared to the first night... I don’t know. It will get better. It must.”

She quiets and stands by the window. Her anxiety is palpable. It’s uncharacteristic. You’ve never seen her uncertain of anything yet you can understand it. She is soon to set off to a new life and to brave a long road. When she reaches her destination, she will be a true queen. When you get there, you’ll still be a maid.

“I’ll go to him tonight,” she says and raises her head, “yes, yes, I will go to him and try again.” She spins and smirks at her grand idea, “maid, I must find something to wear for him. Well, nothing very much,” she remarks coyly, “but I will need a robe. Yes, I saw a satin one in the queen’s closet.” She swallows and stands as straight as she can, “my closet.”

You diligently cross the chamber and search the wardrobe. You find a white satin robe stitched with gold and silver. You turn to show the queen. She giggles and claps her hands.

“Wine,” she says, “I must find some courage too.”

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #the witcher #series #au #medieval au #winter's king

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dystopicjumpsuit · 2 days

Note

Hi DJ! If you’re still doing the ficlet requests, can I get 24 (cuddles of reassurance) with Wolffe? Maybe fem!reader is having a hard time with sex and feels embarrassed/overwhelmed? (If that’s too explicit/uncomy feel free to ignore :))

Just a Little Bit More

A/N: Thank you so much for this request, Alli! I’ve actually been wanting to write a fic like this for a while. I feel like so much of the smut we see in fanfiction AND in published fiction/media in general is so idealized that even when it has elements of realism, it can present a distorted idea of what sex and intimacy can really be like. I’m certainly guilty of writing somewhat idealized smut, though I do try to maintain at least some semblance of realism (unless Sev is involved; all bets are off with that man). While there’s nothing wrong with having that fantasy, I think it’s healthy and important to also show the reality that it isn’t always easy or flawless, even with a caring, experienced partner who takes our pleasure seriously and does everything “right.”

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x Reader (Fem; has hair)

Rating: M (mature content intended for readers 18+; minors DNI)

Wordcount: 3.3K of straight smut with some cuddles

Warnings and tags: cuddles; hurt comfort; language; SMUT; oral sex; PIV; nipple play; light/playful spanking; body worship; sex toys; fingering; exhibitionism; voyeurism; creampie; difficulty with orgasm. AKA, the return of SMUTKEA.

Summary: Wolffe is the best you’ve ever had. That doesn’t mean it’s always perfect.

Suggested Listening:

This fic smells like: Fruit de La Créativité by Grès (raspberry & leather)

Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

Wolffe gazed up into your eyes as you rolled your hips slowly, searching for the perfect angle. You knew you could find it: you’d done it before, countless times. His strong, warm hands glided up your thighs to your hips, pulling you closer, thrusting deeper, guiding you closer and closer to your pleasure. You could feel it building inside you, the tension gathering slowly.

Too slowly.

He smoothed one hand up your side, grazing along your rib cage until he cupped your breast, circling your nipple with his thumb. He knew exactly how much pressure you liked, and the way he touched you was perfect.

God, he’s so hot. Just focus on how hot he is.

Sweat glistened on your skin. The room hadn’t been this hot when he’d pulled you into bed, but after an hour and a half of vigorous activity, you were both slick with perspiration, saliva, arousal, and lube. He’d mapped your body with kisses, gliding his lips and tongue across your skin as he devoured you, bringing you right to the edge until you begged him to fuck you.

You’d wrapped your legs around his waist as he eased into you, a tormented groan rumbling from his lips as he felt your heat envelope him. Gods, he felt amazing, and when he started to move, you knew it would only be a matter of minutes before you came.

It took longer than you expected, and after a while, you realized something needed to change.

“Take me from behind,” you’d murmured, knowing how much he loved the way your ass pressed into his hips in that position.

“God, yes,” he’d replied, pulling out and rolling you over with enthusiasm.

You loved the way he handled you in bed. He was so fucking strong. He could toss you around so easily—it was hot as hell, but the best thing about it was the care he took to make sure you were comfortable and he didn’t accidentally hurt you. He lifted your hips up and positioned you exactly the way he wanted you. You heard a small click as he closed the bottle of lube, and then you felt his slickened fingers glide over your cunt as he ensured you were ready to take him from the new angle.

“Maker, that ass is gorgeous,” he said, squeezing your cheeks before giving you a playful smack.

Your mischievous giggle turned into a breathless moan as he sank into you, reaching deeper, stretching you wider, as his hand slid down your body to tease your clit. You loved the way he touched you, the way he caged you in with his body, making you feel incredibly safe and protected. And of course, you loved his cock. He knew exactly how to use it to ensure he gave you as much pleasure as he took—or more.

And still, your orgasm remained tantalizingly just out of reach. He shifted, and for a moment, his body rested heavily on you before he resumed his rhythm.

He’s getting tired. Fuck. Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up. I need to give him a break.

“Want me to be on top?” you offered, hoping that yet another angle would be the one that finally pushed you past whatever mental block was keeping you from your release.

He paused, his hands resting on your hips. “Is that what you want?”

“Sure,” you replied. “If you do?”

He trailed his fingers down your spine before slowly withdrawing from your body. You turned to watch as he rolled onto his back and kicked the blankets off the bed. He reached for you with that sexy smirk that you loved so much, and you knew without question that he still wanted you.

He’s such a good man. Gods, he deserves the world.

“Hop on, darlin’,” he invited.

You crawled toward him with a smile, pausing a moment to kneel between his thighs. You traced your fingertips up his legs and over his balls, then ghosted a line up the underside of his cock. You glanced up to see his eyes fixed on you with an intense expression. Holding his gaze, you dropped lower and flicked your tongue over his tip, then slid his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue over him. You could taste yourself on his skin—salty, tangy, unspeakably erotic. His hips flexed beneath you, and you heard his breath grow ragged.

He caressed your head gently, stroking his hand over your hair and jaw before coming to rest on your shoulders.

“Not gonna last if you keep that up,” he said quietly. “Come up here.”

You gave him one last defiant, flirtatious little suck before you released him, then you began to crawl up to him, kissing a trail up his abdomen and chest. You straddled his hips, kissing and licking your way up his throat, and as you reached his lips, you whispered, “You taste like pussy.”

“Then I must be delicious,” he murmured, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck and pulling you into a passionate kiss.

His tongue slid into your mouth as his cock thrust into your cunt, and for a moment you were overwhelmed with the sensations of him filling you. A fresh wave of arousal had flooded you as you’d pleasured him with your mouth, and he slipped into you easily, rocking into you with his powerful thighs. You braced your fists against the mattress on either side of his head, pressing down to meet his thrusts as you rode him hard and fast, chasing your pleasure with a desperation that started to border on frantic as release continued to elude you.

“Gonna make you come so hard,” he whispered. “And then I’m gonna fill you up. You feel so goddamn good. Can’t wait to feel you come around my cock.”

I’m trying, damn it!

“You feel incredible,” you replied breathlessly, and it was true, so why was this so kriffing difficult?

Your hips were starting to get sore from how long you’d been at it, so you shifted positions, bringing your knees higher and setting a slower pace to try to buy yourself enough time that you’d have the energy to make it to the finish line. Wolffe adjusted instantly, not even needing a verbal cue to understand the message your body sent. You found the angle that pressed his cock against the perfect place inside you, and you focused on trying to get as much stimulation there as you possibly could, cutting out all extraneous movement.

The longer it took, the more anxious and desperate you became. You tried to shut down the voice in your head that whispered, “He’s getting bored,” because you knew it was a lie. All you had to do was look into his beautiful, mismatched eyes to see how much he wanted you. And you were so close. So fucking close, if you could just get out of your own head long enough to let go.

You traced your fingertips across his cheekbone and along his jaw, grazing your thumb across his lips. You pressed gently, parting his lips to brush your thumb against his tongue, and then you leaned down and kissed him deeply, trying to lose yourself in the sensation of his lips and tongue against your own.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as you broke from the kiss and returned your hand to brace against the mattress. “So fuckin’ beautiful.”

Please stop talking. You couldn’t say it out loud; what kind of an asshole says something like that in response to a compliment?

“You’re so sexy,” you whispered instead. “You’re amazing at this.”

It was true; he was amazing. Unquestionably the best you’d ever had. In the time you’d been together, he’d learned your body completely, identifying every spot that made you shiver, testing different approaches until he knew exactly how and where you liked to be touched, kissed, caressed. He knew where to use his teeth, and where to use his breath; he knew when you wanted him to be tender, and when you craved roughness.

He knew you.

He knew you better than anyone ever had, and that made your current predicament even more maddening. Because sometimes it was easy. Sometimes you came so fast that your orgasm surprised both of you. But most of the time, it took more work. A lot more. And sometimes, like this one, you would get so close to the edge that you were only seconds away, only to feel the wave of pleasure ebb and be replaced with frustration and exhaustion.

Please, please, please. Just a little bit more.

Your wrists ached. Your knuckles were raw from grinding them into the sheets. You shifted your weight and lifted one hand off the mattress, stretching your fingers and trying to get the blood flowing to them. He glanced at your hand, then back up into your eyes.

“What can I do?” he asked softly.

“Just… keep going,” you said desperately. “I’m so close—I’m so fucking close, and I just can’t—I can’t—”

Abrupt tears stung your eyes, and you buried your face against his neck to hide them, kissing his chest to try to distract him from your distress.

He wrapped his arms around your body, still rocking into you at the pace you’d set. “Do you want to take a break?”

“No, I want you to come,” you snapped, disappointment sharpening your tone more than you intended.

He stilled immediately. You felt his hand slide up your back to stroke your hair softly.

“Hey,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head. “Look at me.”

You shook your head and burrowed your face obstinately into the nook where his neck met his shoulder.

“Talk to me, little one,” he urged. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

The dam cracked and then burst.

“I’m so fucking tired,” you sobbed. “And I can tell you’re getting tired, and I just want it to be good for you, and every time I think I’m getting there, I lose it!”

Mortification swept through you that you were making a scene during such an intimate moment, and you tried to stifle your sobs, but it was too late. You felt him go soft inside you, and then he slipped from your body.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean to ruin it for you.”

His arms tightened around you, and he rolled the both of you onto your sides, pulling you close against his body. “You didn’t ruin anything.”

Holding you tightly with one arm, he began to run his hand lightly over your back, comforting you with his touch as he kissed your forehead.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he repeated. “You just got tired. It’s all right, love. It happens.”

“It’s so frustrating,” you confessed. “So many times, I thought I was there, and then something would distract me, and it was just gone.”

“Was it something I did?” he asked.

“No, of course not. It was just… I don’t know. A noise? Or a weird thought that popped into my head at a bad time?” You paused, feeling a little guilty as you remembered that, in fact, you had gotten annoyed at an ill-timed remark from him. “And then the longer it took, the more it stressed me out about how long it was taking, until I was stressing so much about it that that’s all I could think about.”

He moved his hand to your shoulder and began to glide it up and down your arm in long, languid strokes. “Why were you worried about taking too long?”

You paused, unaccountably hesitant to admit the truth. He waited patiently, still caressing your arm, until at last you replied, “I was worried you were getting tired. Or bored. Or—I don’t know…”

His hand stilled in its progress, then slid around your back as he pulled you even closer to him. “I would never get bored with you.”

“But—”

“I love you,” he cut you off firmly. “I love being with you. I love fuckin’ you. You’re gorgeous, and sexy, and kriffin’ amazing in the sack. Do you have any idea how lucky I am? Most men only dream of finding a girl like you, but I got you for real. How the hell would I ever be stupid enough to get bored with someone as goddamn perfect as you?”

You didn’t know what to say. You lay in his arms, clinging tightly to him as the tears finally stopped trickling from your eyes. You shuddered quietly.

“Yeah?” you asked in a tiny whisper.

He rolled you onto your back and moved to lie on top of you so he could look into your eyes.

“Yeah,” he replied.

You swallowed. “I love you, too, you know.”

“I know,” he said with a charming smirk.

He pressed his lips to your sternum as his hand slid lazily up your body to play with your breast. The weight of his body pressed you down into the soft mattress as you cradled his chest between your thighs. You took a deep breath, then let it out slowly, releasing the guilt and stress and self-recrimination you’d built up in your body.

He kissed you again, and again, then he began to work his way across your chest until he drew your nipple into his mouth, brushing his tongue over your skin as he sucked gently, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. You felt a spark of renewed arousal, but with it came a surge of anxiety that rose insistently in your mind.

“Wolffe,” you whispered. “I don’t know if I can. I really am exhausted.”

He looked up at you as he continued to tease your breast. At last, he released your nipple from his lips, giving you a devilish smile.

“What if we tried something else?”

You couldn’t help the way your lips curved into an answering smile when he looked at you like that. “What did you have in mind?”

He pushed himself up off of you and leaned over to rummage through your nightstand until he retrieved a vibrator—the one you’d once jokingly called “Old Faithful” for its uncanny ability to get you off like clockwork.

“I want you to fuck yourself with this,” he said, his voice dropping to a gravelly pitch. “I want to watch you make yourself come.”

Your breath stuttered to a halt, your eyes widening and your heart beginning to pound at the idea. Your gaze flicked from the toy to his eyes and back again.

“Wh—what about you?” you stammered.

“Don’t you worry about me,” he replied. He switched on the vibrator and traced it down your abdomen, making you twitch as its buzz tickled your skin. “Will you?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, taking the toy from him. “How do you want me?”

“Whatever way works best for you.”

You thought about trying to pose for him, to put on a show, but you knew instinctively that wasn’t what he was after. If he’d wanted to watch a counterfeit, staged orgasm, he would have just found a holoporn. No. He wanted the real thing. He wanted to see your genuine pleasure.

“All right,” you whispered.

You took the toy from him, and he moved off of your body to lie next to you, observing you closely. You adjusted the settings to your preferred speed and pattern, then took a deep breath and began.

The instant you touched the vibrator to your clit, your entire body tensed, and you gasped quietly. You glanced at Wolffe and found his gaze riveted to your pussy, his one good pupil dilated so wide you could barely see the amber ring of his iris around its inky depths. You felt a little self-conscious until you saw the way his lips parted slightly as his breath became heavy.

You pushed yourself back into the pillow and closed your eyes as you adjusted the angle of the toy, pressing it exactly as you needed it. With your free hand, you began to play with your breast, caressing and squeezing and rolling your nipple between your fingertips. You felt the warmth of his hand as it settled onto your leg and then slid up your thigh. Your opposite leg curled up to brace your foot against the bed, opening your stance wider as you moved the vibrator exactly the way you needed it.

“Fuck,” he rasped hoarsely, and you could feel the heat of his breath on your skin. His fingers grazed lightly over your pussy, but quickly withdrew.

“You can touch me,” you gasped.

He didn’t move immediately, and you continued to work yourself closer and closer to your orgasm, feeling the tension gather in your body and begin to tighten in on your center. Then his fingertips brushed over your cunt again, and you felt his lips and tongue descend on your hip. He didn’t try to take control, just touched you softly, kissing and licking and watching as you played with yourself.

You adjusted your position again, bringing your leg against his body, and you felt his slick, rigid cock press hard against you. You whimpered, so turned on you couldn’t even form words, and in response, he ground his erection against you. He kissed across your pelvis until he reached your belly, pressing his face into you.

“I’m so close,” you panted.

“Kriff, me too,” he growled.

His fingertip grazed into you, and your body jerked as you gasped sharply. He froze, and without thinking, you moved your hand away from your breast to grab his wrist and push him deeper. With an urgent grunt, he began to move his finger, stroking exactly where he knew you needed him.

Abruptly, your hips arched off the bed, and you let out an inhuman wail. If your brain had been functioning, you might have also heard Wolffe’s rough groan, but at the moment, you were aware of nothing but blinding, shattering pleasure as your body finally found the release it had been denied for so many hours. You jerked the vibrator away as the intensity suddenly became too much, and your body convulsed again and again until at last you collapsed onto the bed, utterly spent.

Wolffe covered you with frantic kisses, crawling up your body until he reached your face. His body hovered over you as his tongue brushed between your lips and flooded your mouth with his taste. Your arms wrapped around his torso as your legs tightened around his hips, and you pulled him into you. His cock slid easily, and he thrust hard and fast, fucking you through the last tremors of your orgasm.

He came within seconds, flooding you with heat as he thrust hard, one last time, burying his cock as deep as he could inside your body. He stayed there, his entire body taut, until at last he exhaled a hard breath and relaxed onto you. His lips broke away from yours, and he rested his forehead against the pillow next to your head.

“Fuck,” he panted, the word hot against your ear. “Fuck, you’re amazing.”

You stroked your hands up and down his back, digging your nails lightly into his skin. He groaned and slumped heavily against your body. You loved the weight of him on top of you, but before long, you began to wheeze quietly as you struggled to draw breath. He heard the shift and immediately rolled off of you, pulling you against himself as he came to rest on the bed.

“Thank you,” you whispered as you pressed your lips to his chest.

He laughed quietly. “Thank you. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“Worth the wait?” you asked.

“Worth everything,” he murmured, drawing you even closer. “Everything, and more. You always have been.”

---

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foreverisntenough · 1 day

Text

‘OURS’

Summary: You were his and he was yours but what would it be like adding one more? Thrust into a whirlwind romance you never could’ve imagined that became your forever love. You continue building a new life across the pond with a very beautiful Scouser. A sequel to the ‘You’re Mine’ fic.

Index:

Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestion, smut (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, mention of the word ‘daddy,’ kind of angsty, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Chapter 1 - Size of A Plum | ‘Ours’

Pancakes. That was the only thing in your mind since you went to sleep last night. It was obscenely early so Trent was still fast asleep when you slipped out of your bedroom. He had a game last night and although you knew he preferred to wake up and have a cuddle with you after being knackered from his match. Unfortunately for him, your pregnancy cravings were not going to be as understanding as you knew he would be. You tiptoed down the stairs and crept into the kitchen. You turned on the warm lights and looked out into the still dark morning outside. You moved around the kitchen seamlessly pulling out all the ingredients for blueberry pancakes. It was hard not to make any noise as you whisked the batter in a ceramic bowl but you tried your best. You knew things were still fairly easy for you this early in your pregnancy so you were cherishing the morning and moments of fleeting ease and alone time. You swayed back and forth in a pair of Trent’s joggers and a little tank top focused on getting the pancakes a perfect golden brown humming the song currently stuck in your head. You were oblivious to the fact that a sleepy Trent had snuck into the kitchen. Your heart just about stopped when you felt his warm hands come around your waist. He tucked his head onto your shoulder and rested his chin on you.

“Hi baby…” you whispered, twisting your neck to try to land a quick peck on him. Your free hand rubbed over his arms that had wrapped tightly around you. He only hummed, pressing a kiss to your bare skin. “Sorry, I really wanted pancakes. I didn’t mean to wake you up, sleepy boy.” Your thumb continued to brush his strong arms in front of you.

“Cute...” he whispered with another kiss. He squeezed you a little tighter. He thought everything you did since becoming pregnant was adorable. You personally thought your indecision and late night cravings were annoying but if he thought otherwise you weren’t going to be the one to ruin it for him. Anything you wanted, he handled it and he loved doing it. Trent would get up in the middle of the night and drive to the shop just to get the specific red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting you were thinking about. .

“I know you don’t want these.” You giggled, flipping a pancake over. You knew this was not Trent’s breakfast of choice. He hummed a ‘nuhuh’ He could barely get any words out he was so tired. You felt bad he was even standing up with you. “Want an omelet, T?” He didn’t respond, he just kissed your shoulder again. You slid the spatula under the pancake and plopped it onto a plate off to the side and turned off the burner. You spun around encased in his arms. You brought your hands up to cup his face. You rubbed your nose against his. “Can you at least go lay on the couch for me? You’re making me feel bad. I’ll come bring it over to you when I’m done.” You cooed before pressing your soft lips against his. It only elicited another hum. His eyelids were so heavy you could barely see his beautiful big brown eyes making you feel that much worse he was awake.

“Promise you’ll come be with me? I want to spend my morning with you, baby.” He slid his hands in your his joggers to lay over your ass. His hands massaged over the soft skin. You smirked at his affectionate touch. Trent was always inadvertently so touchy when he was sleepy. He was so clingy and it made you melt. It was so cute for someone who typically liked to be alone, that, in these moments, he wanted to be so close to you.

“I promise” you assured him with a kiss.

“Good” he mumbled out before letting go of you. He pressed a sleepy kiss to your cheek and turned to leave the kitchen. You watched him tiredly trudge off rubbing his hands over his eyes. His exposed back muscles looked really really good. You swooned at him doused in morning light. When you were finished cooking, you quietly shuffled over to the living room. You didn’t know if he might’ve fallen back asleep because it was so dark in the room but he was there nestled up in the corner of the couch watching the tv. He just hadn’t been able to manage turning on any lights.

“Can I turn a light on?” You whispered, carrying two plates and waters under your arm. He nodded. So you awkwardly turned them on holding the food. You sat down next to him and put everything down on the coffee table. You tucked your legs into a crossed position and settled back into the big cushion behind you. Trent was ironically quick with his sleepy movement to come and collapse over into your lap. He laid over your legs turning his head to your body away from the tv. He kissed at your bare stomach.

“I’m sorry” he murmured out against your skin between kisses.

“For what?” You giggled looking down at him stroking your hand over his head.

“I should be taking care of you…” you could tell in his tone that he genuinely felt really guilty. He liked his sleep. He didn’t need to feel bad for that. You wanted him to get some rest. You didn’t need him this morning. If you did, you probably wouldn’t have wanted to wake him after a match but you might’ve asked.

“It’s okay, I’m okay.” You promised him continuing to stoke his face.

“Thank you” he said before sitting up right. His hand came to hold your jaw and turned your head towards him. He kissed your lips gently before turning to his plate. He took the first bite and gave a dramatic ‘mmmmm’ in delight at the taste of his omelet. “How lucky am I to have you, Ms. Y/L/N” you just giggled at how ridiculous he was. It was only eggs. You wiped the side of his mouth with your thumb. You ate your breakfasts together and then snuggled up laying on the couch for the rest of the morning. You gazed up at him and he just looked so comfy. He looked sleepy and happy but also just so at home. You knew he literally was at his home but you felt it was nice to see him so relaxed. You nuzzled up into his chest and laid practically on top of him as he watched sky sports tick on about something happening in La Liga. He was so warm and he smelt so good you felt yourself becoming intoxicated by it, falling into the same state of sleepy relaxation he was in. He rubbed his hands over you slowly and over time his hands found their way underneath your thin tank top.

“You look good today” he cooed as he drowsily kissed you all over.

“Just today?” You cheekily teased. Lifting your head a little to see him not particularly impressed with your joke so early.

“Everyday” he confirmed anyway with a more substantial peck of his lips on your head. “You doing okay, beautiful?” He asked, thinking about the passing weeks and early stages of the pregnancy. You just hummed a ‘mmhmm’ and he was too tired to press for something more. “Our baby is so lucky. Going to have the most beautiful mummy.” Followed by more kisses. You didn’t even realize you were falling to sleep but being in his loving embrace had that effect. It probably was from how early you had gotten up but no matter you were out like a light soon after his the last words rang in your head. Trent kept you on his chest stroking his warm hands up your back until he decided to wiggle out from under you to get up. You moaned a little but he just gave you a kiss and tucked you in with a blanket. You curled right up, staying asleep, unconsciously okay with the new arrangement. He picked up the finished plates and brought them back to the kitchen and did the dishes. Trent was really good about pulling his weight with any household things like dishes or laundry. He wasn’t the best at them but he did them and you appreciated it. You did them more often just simply out of how much more time you were home compared to him but since the pregnancy he’d been so considerate trying to make sure you didn’t have to do anything at home. He sat at the kitchen island on his phone for a little before he trotted back over to you.

“Baby, George asked if I wanted to play FIFA with the lads. Do you care?” He whispered sitting down next to your frame as he stroked your arm laying overtop the blanket. Your eyes were barely able to flutter open.

“Why are you asking… yes?” You groaned confused he was waking you up for this. He laughed mocking your dramatic ‘yes’ before he got up and left for the cinema with a particularly wet kiss you winced at. When you woke up an hour or so later you scrolled aimlessly on your phone. You got a little notification from an app that your baby was about the size of a plum now. It made your heart flutter. That was so cute to imagine. You couldn’t wait to tell Trent but for now you knew he was in the middle of a game with friends. You lounged around until you got an unexpected FaceTime from your best friend, Lauren.

“Guess who's coming to see you!” She squealed

“Oh my god! Really?” You echoed her excitement.

“Yesss, I’m flying over in a few weeks…” she began to rant about how excited she was to go out and bang… it hit you. You hadn’t told Lauren you were pregnant yet. In a few weeks you wondered what size fruit your baby would be by then. You wouldn’t be able to go out the way you normally did. You promised you’d tell her first when this happened… How were you going to do this? You certainly weren’t going to tell your best friend over FaceTime. “Can you come to London?” Her voice cut your train of thought in half. She rattled off the exact dates she was going to be in the UK.

“Oh… erm, I should be able to. I have to check with T, like what’s he’s doing or…” you kind of babbled trying to think of you had any appointments or what Trent would think of you going or telling her about the pregnancy so early. There was so much going through your mind. Normally you wouldn’t think twice about a trip to see Lauren. “If he needs me at home. I should be able to. Sorry.” You shook your head at how silly you sounded.

“Wow…so domestic, it's giving wife.” She joked and you rolled your eyes. She said she could come up to see you if London was difficult for you. She didn’t understand why you were being weird but regardless she wanted to see her best friend if she was in the same country. You had to make a plan.

When you hung up the phone, you realized you needed to shower and get off this couch. You could hear Trent’s friend yelling about their game from the cinema as you walked by. You jogged upstairs and hopped in. As you stood under the water watching it cascade over your boobs you became increasingly more aware of your changing hormone levels. The sexual desire you were experiencing in the last few weeks was off the charts. You felt like you were horny all the time. Your nipples were so hard, completely unprovoked. You stared down at your stomach. You didn’t really have a bump yet but you felt like you could tell. You felt incredibly needy and desperate to be taken care of. When you stepped out of the shower you didn’t really bother with clothes. You were wearing hardly anything when you ran down the stairs directly to the cinema determined to find the boy you knew would take care of you. You stood in the doorway watching Trent playing fifa with all his friends online. You whined his name quietly and sheepishly.

“Mates, hold on.” Trent said to his friends. He turned toward you and smiled, unknowing of your plan. You walked over to him casually after he acknowledged you and just sat down on his lap immediately making out with him. He was taken aback but didn’t exactly stop you. His hands wrapped around your waist as yours ghosted under his shirt. You were sloppy and eager. He pulled away laughing. “I’m in the middle of a game, baby.” You tried to go in for another kiss, beginning to grind down on his lap subtly. He turned his head away from you with a big smile. “Okay, okay. C’mere.” He couldn’t stop laughing at your antics but insistently pulled you into a hug tucking his chin over your shoulder onto your back. You huffed at the rejection but sat on his lap anyways settling for his proximity, time being. Trent ran his hands up your bare back very quickly noting you weren’t wearing a bra before he picked up his controller again. He listened to the boys on the line discussing the game they were about to start playing. He pulled back from your embrace quickly to look at your desperate face with his smug one before they began the game.

“Aren’t you cold? You're not wearing very much, baby.” You shook your head ‘no.’ As much as Trent was committed to playing the game with his friend he wasn’t opposed to you sitting on his lap right now. In fact, he was particularly happy with your choice of clothes or lack thereof. He was going to make this as great for him and as hard for you as possible. “Sure you're not cold?” You shook your head ‘no’ again. “Well, if you're not… You might as well not be wearing this at all then, yeah?” You smirked at him, happy with the direction of his words thinking you were getting what you wanted. “Yeah, let’s get this off.” He cooed, pulling your shirt off over your head. You sat in front of him completely on display for Trent now. “You look so good, baby” he whispered with his hands stroking up your sides, eyes glued to your bare top half. His friends were about to start the fifa match when you wrapped your arms around him pushing your tits against him while rubbing yourself down on his thigh as Trent attempted to pay attention to what everyone was saying about the game. You could feel him getting harder as you cuddled into him, nibbling on his neck. He needed to adjust his dick now so he shuffled in the chair. You pouted at him unhappy with the change. You wanted to whine but you didn’t know if his mic was on.

“George, gimme one minute.” Trent barely got the words out. It was hard to think straight with your current state. He muted himself.

“Can you be quiet for me, beautiful?” He looked at you so seriously with lust burning behind his eyes. Your eyes lit up. You zipped over your mouth locking it with your hand. You couldn’t wait to see what he was about to do. You felt your mouth water. He pulled his hard cock that was about to start leaking precum out. “Want to sit first or can I start, baby?”

“You can start. I’ll be a good girl.” You whispered. Trent told his friends he was good to go. He started the game. You wasted no time lining his cock up with your wet entrance. You sank yourself down on his length carefully. The two of you silently gasped feeling him slip between your wet folds inside. You were slow but it wasn’t long until he filled you to the hilt. He felt so fucking big and then… he didn’t move. You panicked coming to realize you were in for it.

“Such a good girl f’me.” He whispered. You wanted to moan or move. Anything. You were absolutely dripping on him. It felt like ages you were sitting there desperately. You impatiently kissed his neck trying your best to persuade him to do something. Everytime you would take your efforts to far he would tease you more. It was excruciatingly and deliciously painful. The FIFA game clock was counting down. He was gonna be done soon, he knew that, you didn’t, so when he began to thrust up into you, you bit his neck harshly in an attempt to muffle the noises you were dying to let out. He hissed at the feeling of your teeth against his skin.

“You good Trentski?” One of the boys asked, caught off guard by the noise.

“Yeah, yeah dropped something” he lied followed by a little snicker.

“Another game?” Another boy asked when they finished.

“Eh sorry, bro, I’m out. I gotta go lads” Trent spoke pulling you off his chest to see you. You smiled deviously at him. “Yeah, lads, I gotta go, I'm sorry.” His hands worked up your body to come and tease your nipples. Your mouth dropped into a pleasurable ‘o.’

“Alright, bro. See you later. Bye, Y/N.” George cooed. He could tell immediately by the change in Trent’s tone and breath. You giggled at George before you gasped when Trent thrusted up once more, turning off his game.

“What do you need?” He whispered. His low, raspy voice sent waves of pleasure all over your body. Your body responded to him like it was his… in fact, it was his. You didn’t respond as you tried to bounce on his cock. He held you still by your hips firmly down on him. “Answer me, baby” he demanded.

“Can I ride you, please.” You whined still trying to move against him.

“Yeah, beautiful. You can, go on.” He shushed you softly, letting go over your hips running his hands down the curve of your ass. As much as Trent was in control right now he couldn’t help but feel a little hypnotized by your body as you began to ride him. You shut your eyes tight with your mouth agape as your tits bounced. The sight was enough to make him cum. You flashed your eyes up to look at him. The look in your eyes made Trent tense. “Oh baby, don’t give me that face. I’m not gonna last.” He grunted out. He slapped your ass and you smirked. You moaned at the second. You squeezed your pussy tighter around him feeling him twitch inside you. “Fuck baby, squeezing me so tight. You want to cum for me? Let me feel you cum on my cock, baby, please.” He begged. He knew exactly what to do, what to say to get you there.

“Ah fuck. T… T… oh my god. T…” you moaned feeling the tight knot in your stomach snap.

“There you go. Say my name, beautiful. Tell me who this pussy needed.” Your eyes rolled back. You couldn’t do anything but give into your next orgasm building up. The room filled with the sound of your skin slapping. It didn’t take long for your pussy to clench around his cock pulling his orgasm from him. He cursed as he filled you. His cum painted your was white. Your sensitive pussy overflowing with both of your juices.

“Holy shit, baby.” You whined. As he stilled inside of you finishing out his high. He collapsed his head into the valley of your boobs when he was done. You thought you were done, until you felt him starting to suck on your nipples.

“C’mon let’s go again, baby. Need you.” Trent muffled into your tits. He picked you up by your ass and held you up aligning your dripping core with his hardening cock. He fucked up into again for a while before you could feel that familiar knot tightening again.

“Oh my fucking god, T! I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum all over your cock, baby!” You moaned, feeling your pussy clench around his pulsing cock.

“That’s it, baby. Let me make you cum. Let me hear you. Cum on my cock.” Trent groaned as he continued hitting onto your sensitive nipples. You panted overwhelmed with the feeling. “You’re such a good girl f’me.” His thrusts started to become sloppy feeling his own release approaching. Your legs with a quivering mess, your toes curling at the mind blowing delectation you were experiencing.

You moaned when you felt a second orgasm crash over you. You threw your head back, your dripping pussy clenching deliciously around his cock. His thrusts didn’t seize, continuing to drill your pussy with the need to reach his own release

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m gonna cum, baby. Take it f’me. Take it like a good girl.” His orgasm quickly approached. He watched your beautiful face. You were completely in a daze. Your eyes were half lidded looking at him. You were so in love with him. “You’re mine. You’re all mine.” Trent groaned as he came for a second time. He stilled exhausted. You collapsed your head onto his shoulder and held onto him. After awhile he pulled your sticky body off his for a moment to pull himself out. He groaned at the sight of his soaked cock. He sat back in his chair admiring his view. You straddled over him sweaty, panting, dripping. You cuddled up to him. You relished in the warmth that was radiating off your naked bodies. This was all he ever needed, you completed his existence.

“You know what I was thinking?” You giggled while walking to the kitchen for water. You finally were coming back to reality although still completely spent.

“What’s that, pretty girl?” Trent said, squeezing your side before sitting on a chair at the kitchen island. He pulled you in between his legs giving you a childish full toothy smile. You began to ramble. He just liked to listen to you. Your voice and accent were comforting. He didn’t really care what the topic was. He just wanted to hear what your thoughts were, your opinions, the way your mind worked. He loved hearing you talk and he let you just smiling at your animated face. You giggled and his chest warmed. He wanted the sound to be on loop for him forever. He never wanted you to not be giggling with him. He held you in the kitchen while you babled away completely smitten and enamored by you. You were the only woman he ever wanted.

At the end of the week, you and Trent were attending an event in Manchester. It was a gala for a charity a friend was having. It was massive; a ton of people you didn’t know would be there. The second you heard about it you began to worry about hiding your bump. You were keeping the pregnancy quiet for now. Trent wasn’t keen on going to the event but he had to. He was really anxious and while you usually would go with him regardless you definitely were going to this one just to hold his hand to make him feel better. He wasn’t crazy about big social gatherings. Neither were you but Trent especially hated it. You weren’t loving the way you had been looking lately. You felt so uncomfortable in your own skin. It made you apprehensive about the event but if your company made Trent less nervous you were going to be there. You put on a strapless black gown that hugged your figure perfectly but the thickness of the material made it so it wasn’t clinging to your growing stomach. It had a high slit on one side that exposed your thigh and gave a glimpse at the pair of heels you were in. You had gotten your nails done earlier in the week and asked Trent what color to get when you couldn’t decide. He told you he liked when you got a pink you usually wore. You could’ve made that decision on your own but you liked to have his opinion. As he held your hand in the car on the way to the event that night his fingers stroked over your long nails smiling that his opinion mattered to you. As Trent helped you step out of the car you felt the warmth of the camera’s lights. The photographers out front snapped away. Trent kept his hand on the small of your back as you walked towards them. His touch always made you feel more secure. He made you comfortable no matter where you went together but especially in these situations where the media was there to cover your every move. He looked down at you and rubbed his thumb over your back. He dropped his hand off your back and came to grab yours. He squeezed it to let you know he was with you. He really thought you were the one helping him but it couldn’t have been more opposite. He was the only reason you could manage something like this. You just stared up at him in a daze, just completely and utterly obsessed with him. When you were inside, he introduced you to people he knew through football. He kept you close to him. Despite your anxiety, you were naturally very good with people. They were drawn to you. People often described you to be pretty like a doll, like a model or ballerina. Your slicked back bun tonight really reinforced that imagery. You radiated a glow that had men drooling and women envious. Trent always felt really proud to have you by his side at these events. His big brown eyes watched as you spoke. He loved the sound of your saccharine voice as you spoke to the people you just had met while they rapidly fell in love with you. The way you moved and the way you carried yourself was perfection personified. Like the rest of the room, he was completely captivated by you. Trent was transfixed on you the whole night. The Van Clef necklace Trent gave you when he asked you to be his girlfriend laid over your protruding collarbones illuminated. He smiled everytime it caught the light reminding him you were his. You weren’t even sure he knew anyone else was at the event but you. You stood up from your seat to bop to the bathroom quickly. Trent stood up with you worried you weren’t feeling well but you assured you simply only had to pee. Happy you were actually okay he sneakily gave your ass a light slap. You rolled your eyes at his cheek. When you walked into the restroom there were 3 girls all at the mirror touching up their makeup so you just smiled before picking a stall. You were almost finished when you overheard them talking.

“Did you see that Trent Alexander-Arnold is here tonight?” They grabbed your attention immediately. You tried to be quiet to listen a little bit closer.

“Yeah, I think he was with a girl though… is he taken? I honestly don’t follow footie but he’s well fit” One girl responded to the other.

“I’ve been DMing with him. I don’t care. Fucking on the low” You almost audibly gasped. Your mouth hung open. You felt emotions rush behind your eyes. Tears filled your lash line but you blinked a few times trying to focus on listening to what they said next.

“Stop… no fucking way. You are?” One girl squealed at the other’s confession. They were freaking out for their friend while you felt like you were going to be sick.

“In case you were wondering… to no surprise the dick is perfect.” That was it. You felt absolutely broken. You didn’t know if you were going to pass out, get sick, cry, or maybe all three at once. After a while listening to them gush about one girl being Trent’s sneaky link they left the bathroom. You just stayed put. Trent was starting to get worried where you were. Your phone was buzzing uncontrollably with texts from him. You tried to pull yourself together. You stared in the mirror looking at yourself. What the fuck were you meant to do now. You had always worried about what would happen if things ever fell apart but you had kind of thought you had moved past that possibility until this very moment. You stared at the tears rolling down your face pulling your makeup down with them. What were you supposed to do now that you heard he was cheating on you. You were shaking, gripping onto the bathroom counter. Were you supposed to say something? Were you supposed to go back to the US? Were you supposed to raise the growing baby in your stomach on your own? The tears kept falling. You decided you would pull yourself together, tell Trent you're leaving, get home and stay in a guest room until you figured out if you should stay or not. Your heart felt like it was in a million pieces. You wiped the tears from under your eyes and reapplied your lipstick. Taking a few breaths, you walked out the restroom door eyes fixed on the floor trying your very best to keep the tears from flooding back. That plan fell apart almost immediately when you picked your head up and were met with Trent standing in front of you.

“Are you okay, baby? I was so worried.” He cooed, stepping towards you. You held your hands up in protest. Your eyes began to water.

“You were worried?!” You shot back at him. His brow furrowed confused by your tone and the look on your face.

“Is it the baby? Is everything okay?” He was genuinely distressed. He didn't like the look you were giving him but he put it aside for the moment concerned about his future child unknowing of the girls you had just encountered.

“No… it was the girl you’ve been fucking in the bathroom.” You quipped. His face twisted in confusion. Were you kidding? He obviously wasn’t fucking anyone else. He was either with the team or cuddled up to you. He didn’t have any interest in other women and frankly he didn’t have the time to entertain one.

“What the fuck are you on about? I’m not cheating on you.” He batted back at you incredibly confused and incredibly innocent. You only rolled your eyes, not impressed with his response. Trent was fuming but he was more concerned about your current condition. “You’re the love of my life. You’re the mother of my child. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world. You think I’m that stupid to fuck this up? That someone else would even have a shot with me when I have you?” He spoke sternly but not aggressively. “I barely even know any people here!”

“I don’t know maybe you would, it seems you definitely do know someone. She said you’ve been DMing her.” You muttered out, starting to question the truth of the girl in the bathroom’s words seeing Trent’s confusion.

“I’ll be happpy to show you my fucking DMs but that’s insane baby this isn’t true and you shouldn’t believe that it is. You need to believe me. Who is she… where is she?” You sensed his anger seep into his words as he started to question who the fuck was trying to ruin his happy relationship for in an attempt for some clout.

“I don’t want to see your DMs.” You quivered out starting to cry. You were too tired to deal with this. Too emotional to try to sort through what you were feeling.

“She’s lying. Just wanted attention, beautiful, C’mere.” He pulled you into him. He held you tight. “I love you so fucking much. I didn’t even know there were other women out in the world anymore. Only you.” He laughed a little and you did in response hearing the sweet sound. “I am never going to hurt you. I never would. You’re all mine baby and I’m all yours.” Your heart beat started to slow wrapped in his embrace. You were his from the moment he met you and you should’ve remembered that.

“Can we just go home?” you whispered. The words were tiny and fragile. Trent pouted seeing your tear stained face. His pout turned into a soft frown when he looked down at you.

“Yeah, of course. I’m sorry, baby. It’s unfair you always have to deal with this shit.” He cooed, keeping you close to him as you walked. You were on your way out when curiosity got the better of Trent. “So… who am I fucking?” You scanned the room and pointed at the women you had seen in the bathroom. “Not even my type.” He laughed, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You slapped at his chest.

“It’s not funny, T!” You giggled. You knew he felt bad and was using humor to try to lighten the mood. Trent would never cheat on you. You believed him wholeheartedly but when things like this happened it was hard not to feel hurt by hearing girls talk about him like that. He understood but he did nothing but reassure you were the only one. At the end of the day it was you he always came home to. You were his whole world. You were his dream come true.

“You okay?” Trent whispered as you laid on his chest back at home tucked in your bed. His hands rubbing up and down your bareback under a shirt of his you were wearing.

“Right here? Yeah, I am.” You confirmed that you felt safe in his arms. The night didn’t go particularly well but it was all okay now.

“Good, it’s where you’re staying. Not going anywhere, baby.” He whispered as you hid yourself in the nape of his neck. You muttered an ‘okay’ quietly. Trent held you tight to him engulfing you in his embrace. He hoped you could feel how much he loved you in the way he held you. He hoped you could feel it in the way his arms wrapped you like they were always meant to be right there. “I’m yours forever. Forever and ever, all yours” he cooed. You could feel your chest warm as you cuddled a little closer to him. “I mean it, baby. I appreciate you so much, you have no idea. I’m so sorry about tonight. It’s so unfair to you” for a moment, his eyes look a little glassy, swimming in guilt. “I really, really am.” You felt bad that he felt so guilty. He couldn’t control what other people said about him. Sure, tonight was not a fun experience but it wasn’t so bad now back in his arms. You squeezed him tighter letting him know it was okay. “Gonna let go of me tonight?” He laughed at the tightness of your hold.

“No, never.” You giggled only squeezing him more.

“Okay, good” he muffled into your hair with a kiss. You let your senses dull, clinging to him. You absently listened to the rain falling outside comforting you when you were in his steady arms.

“Do you know the baby is the size of a plum now?” You spoke softly to Trent with a quiet giddy giggle. He hummed and pulled your head off his chest and towards him. He pressed his soft lips to yours and you melted. You fell asleep that night not worried about the girl in the bathroom but safe with the boy in your bed.

You sat at Trent’s home match a few days later. You were with Tyler in the seats outside the box. You were freezing. You sniffled brushing your icy red nose. You watched the minutes tick by until the ref blew his whistle for the first half to end. Tyler asked if you wanted anything to drink and you awkwardly declined. He furrowed his brow at you but accepted your answer. You typically drank at matches with Trent’s brothers so it was a little odd. You still hadn’t told either of your families, or literally anyone yet and it was becoming more and more difficult. You scrolled on your instagram when Tyler popped inside. You saw a Liverpool fan account had tagged you in a photo sitting in the stands today. It wasn’t anything new but you started to worry the general public might deduce you were pregnant before you got the chance to tell everyone on your own terms. The game went on and little shivers ran through your body, down your spine, and all you could do was clench your chattering teeth and dig your nails into the skin of your palms. Heavy rain fell onto the pitch without mercy. You were cold just looking at Trent all wet but to his credit, he looked really really good like that. When the game finished Trent came up to the box as always. You stood waiting in one of his hoodies. It was unreasonably soft and you had stolen it about a day after he got it. Trent didn’t mind. He liked to see you in his clothes. You looked so comfy in them pulling the sleeves over your hands almost drowning in the fabric. He came into the box and he looked at you all warm and cozy. He had never wanted to hug you more than he did right now. Seeing you in his clothing sent a tremor of pure warmth through his chest. It started in his heart and spread throughout his entire body. He couldn’t bring himself to resist the soft curl of his lips, gazing at you so lovingly. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a kiss. As you left Anfield with him you held his hand walking to the car park. Your anxiety from the instagram post still lingered.

“T… You think I should still come to games when my bump starts to show more?I feel like people are already staring.” You cooed looking up at Trent before he went to unlock the car.

“Nah, baby. Maybe stop being so beautiful and people will stop staring.” He laughed, not taking your question very seriously. You gave him a knowing look. He walked with you to the passenger side to open the door for you. You silently thanked him and got in. “Alright, alright. I get what you’re saying though. We’ll play it by ear. Okay?” He cooed, coming to sit in the driver's seat before throwing his white Goyard wash kit into the back. You hummed and just smiled looking at him, focusing on reversing out of the parking spot. He was so unfairly pretty doing the most mundane things. The sharpness of his jawline, the pout of his lips, the way his eyes glimmered, all wildly unfair. Trent was exhausted when you got home. He laid dramatically on the bed while you massaged his feet mindlessly sitting at the end. You stopped your hands on his foot and began to work up his leg. He groaned in satisfaction feeling your hands on him. Your horniness lately had been hard to control, you just always wanted him to be naked and this moment was no exception. He looked so good and that’s when you found yourself with his cock down your throat.

“Fuck… baby I’m gonna cum.” He groaned out. You didn’t want him to cum like this. You had other plans. So you slowly drew off him and he looked at you wide eyed and desperate. You sat back and proceeded to knead your tits, wrapping them around his cock, Trent’s eyes only widening more. You began your efforts to make him cum all over your tits. You slowly massaged your boobs up and down his cock. Intently squeezing them tightly around him.

“You like fucking my tits, T?” You moaned as you continued working your tits on his pulsating cock.

“Fuck! So so much, baby. You’re gonna make me cum. Gonna let me cum on your perfect tits, baby?” The sight of your boobs engulfing his cock so snug between them erased nearly every thought in his mind

“Cum all over my tits, baby” With that he stilled as he pumped his cum all over you. He moaned out your name repeatedly. Trent’s head fell back and he laid motionless. His chest rising and falling exasperated.

“Jesus, that was so fucking hot” Trent panted. Attempting to regain control of his breath. His tired gaze shifted to a lustful one. He was trying to wrap his head around the image in front of him. You played with the cum on your chest with your fingers swirling it over your nipples before bringing them to your lips. You climbed over top of him watching his cock spring back to life. He pulled you down into a kiss. He rolled you over on the bed to be in top of you. “Where do you want my cum now, baby? Hmm?” He cooed caressing your body. You gave him a mischievous smile with heavy eyelids. God, he fucking loved you. His big brown eyes met yours, your breathing getting heavier and heavier. Your nails dug into his back muscles as he slid inside of you. Your back arched off the bed with a gasp. He rocked into you. Trent’s cock stretched you deliciously hitting the spot only he knew. The squelching sound of your skin slapping against each other.

“You look so fucking good carrying my child, baby.” He grunted looking down at your perfect body. “Gonna fill you up. Fill my pussy up with my cum again.” You felt the knot in your stomach about to snap when Trent guided his hand down between your bodies and seamlessly rubbed tight circles on your clit. You moaned out in pleasure.

“There you go, baby. Cum f’me. Make a fucking mess on my cock.” He commanded you. Only he could make you feel this good. He continued to thrust into you relentlessly when you began to tremble underneath him. “Just like that. There you go.” Your pussy dripping all over him just the way he loved. It wasn’t long before he was close to his own release. You had the boy totally whipped, he was obsessed with you and your pussy. He presses his body weight down on you. He buried grunts into your neck before he moved his face closer to yours pulling you in for a messy kiss. Suddenly all at once he came inside you. His cock pulsed, his cum spilling inside of you in thick ropes, he could barely breathe as your pussy squeezed around him more. He gave a few more sloppy thrusts before you both stilled.

“I love you so much.” You panted out of breath before you both went quiet for a little absolutely exhausted. Trent laid down next to you and pulled your limp body back into his. He peppered kisses onto your hair. You cuddled up to him so comfortable, so full, so tired. “My baby” you murmured softly against his skin. You kissed his bare chest. “My sweet, sweet baby.” Trent was so vulnerable with you. He was often so tough and guarded but he loved when you called him things like that. He was more sensitive around you then he led on, you made him soft. He held you tighter, rubbing his hand over your stomach.

“That I am. All yours.” He cooed with a small smile playing on his lips. His eyes fixed on your stomach. “Our little plum.” He giggled and you pouted at how cute it was. You felt yourself starting to drift off, lulled by the warmth of your bodies, the sound of his slowing heartbeat, and the love you felt. “Get a good sleep, beautiful. I have a surprise for you tomorrow…”

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter … 🤍

Next part - Chapter 2 xx

#trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold imagines #taa x reader #taa66 #oursfic

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rosequarzo · 18 hours

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I noticed you asked for requests and idk if this is the way to ask, I think it is but I'm not sure, sorry if it's not, you can dm me if you have a preferred way or this request doesn't follow the rules (I read them, but I always get anxious about requesting fics lol)

Can I ask for an Aventurine x reader where they both went out to a casino for a date night and they're coming back home just a bit buzzed? And they get home and just get in PJs (all while being goofy and sappy) and just fall asleep cuddling together?

a sweetly buzzed romance.

૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა • ! aventurine + reader reader is gender-neutral established relationship domestic fluff tooth-rotting fluff ☆ warning not proofread . . . !? & 625— catalogue

note. hi there, don't worry, your request did follow my rules hehe. i didn't really include them being buzzed so uh, i hope you forgive me on missing out on that :"). but i hope you enjoy^^

“Ugh, I’m so tired,” you grumbled under your breath, eyes barely open as you struggled to remove your shoes.

Seeing your drowsy state, Aventurine chuckled and lent a helping hand by getting to his knees to help you out. You leaned against the wall, covering your mouth as you yawned and the sight made his heart melt, for you resembled a tired cat. He placed your shoes neatly by the side, his following along before venturing further into your shared home. It was cute with how he was holding your hand; as if he couldn’t bear the thought of being separated from you for a mere second.

“Do you want to take a shower?” He asks softly, eyes flickering to your sleepy expression as he brings you to the bedroom.

“Not really, I just want to sleep right now,” you muttered, words borderline slurring. One would have thought you were drunk with how you were acting.

Humming in acknowledgment, Aventurine guides you to sit on the edge of the bed. He takes it upon himself to choose your pajamas. He ended up choosing a matching pair of silky-smooth brown pajamas which was also his personal favorite, due to how smooth the fabric was to the touch. The gambler sniggered when he saw you had dozed off while waiting for him, resulting in him gently shaking you by the shoulder to wake you up.

“Wake up, darling. You need to get changed,” he murmurs, his words eliciting a noise of protest from you as you reluctantly open your eyes.

“Help me,” you whined, raising your eyes and pouting at him. And who was he to say no to you?

“You’re such a spoiled person. Whatever should I do with you, hm?” He teased, helping you to change out of your clothes as he placed them on the bed beside you.

“But you love me,” you retorted, and a genuine smile appeared on your lover’s face.

“Yes, you’re right. I do love you.”

The sudden agreeing and pure sincerity in his voice made your heart stop beating for a moment. Aventurine laughed at how your ears flushed red, resulting in him getting a light-hearted kick to his knees. The bedroom was filled with laughter and your voices as both of you started goofing around, safe and hidden from any prying eyes. With you, Aventurine can be himself without having to put on a facade.

“Alright, I think that’s enough playing around. You need to brush your teeth before sleeping,” he said, easily carrying you in his arms, savoring the startled noise you made as you clung onto him for dear life, despite knowing he would never drop you.

The two of you stood side by side, in front of the mirror as you brushed your teeths. You couldn’t resist the urge to bump your hips against his, your laughter muffled with the toothpaste in your mouth. Aventurine playfully narrowed his eyes at you, his free hand shooting out to poke your side and you nearly choked on the toothpaste. It ended up with you two having a second round of play fighting and by the time you were done, you were exhausted to the core.

Being the gentleman he is, Aventurine carried you to the bed and tucked you in first before he followed. It was by pure instinct that you snuggled close to him, burying your face in his chest as he wrapped an arm around you, holding you close. He gently brushed his hand through your hair, the sound of his steady heartbeat and his action was enough to soon lure you to sleep.

“Sleep well, my beloved,” he whispers, pressing a loving kiss on your forehead before joining you, in the land of dreams.

#୨୧ magazine articles #honkai star rail #star rail imagines #star rail x reader #aventurine imagines #aventurine x reader #aventurine x y/n #aventurine x you

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forcheol · 3 days

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hi, hani! i like your writings so muchhh… i always go to your account whenever i’m having a cheol brain rot. if it’s possible can u try a jeonghan fic where in reader tries to make something cute out of jeonghan’s long hair? like putting clips on him or smth. thank you!!^^

hi! tysm omg 🥹🥹 i loved writing this :]

jeonghan lays on your lap, his hands busy playing on his phone while yours card through his silky hair.

“mm, that feels nice,” jeonghan mumbles as his fingers spring across the screen of his phone, pressing his head further into your hand. when you stop moving your hands, jeonghan whines at the loss of the good feeling.

“can i try something with your hair, please? i just remembered something.”

he lifts from where he was to sit facing you, “you can do anything with me, baby. what is it you wanna do?”

face lighting up at his response, you tell him to wait where he is before rushing off to find what you need.

you return with your hands in the pockets of your (jeonghan’s) zip up. jeonghan looks up from his phone, tilting his head, “what’d you get?”

you hum, "you'll see in a bit. carry on with your game, hannie."

he follows what you say, focusing on his game. while he's occupied, you part his hair down the middle due to his hair being all over the place. then, you grab a hair tie from your pocket and use it to tie one side of his hair into a little pigtail, doing the same to the other side so that it looks the same.

"okay, look!" you hold up a mirror in front of him that you had snagged from your room. jeonghan laughs, "what is this, babe?"

"pigtails. you look so cute, right now. can i take a picture?" you ask with your phone in your hand, the camera open. he laughs again before nodding and you snap a few pictures before searching something up on your phone, gasping at a thought.

"what?"

"you know who you like right now?" jeonghan shakes his head at your question, "you look like boo from monsters inc."

laughter bubbles out of you as you hold up a picture of boo next to jeonghan's head. he takes the phone from your hand with the mirror in his other hand as he compares the character to himself.

"you're right, i do," he chuckles, taking a selfie on your phone for you to keep. at this point, your whole camera roll is filled with selfies jeonghan has taken on your phone, knowing you love to use them as your wallpaper.

rummaging through your pockets, you take out a handful of star shaped clips, "these too."

jeonghan simply nods, used to all your little clips that you put on his hair many times. some of those being little bows, gems of different shapes and even hair claws when his hair was long enough to be kept up with the claw.

carefully and with calculated placements, you clip them on, moving his head around with your hands to see any empty spots that you can fill. when you're done, jeonghan looks at his hair through the mirror and once again using your phone for pictures, "these are so cute, i love it."

"good! otherwise that would've been all my hard work wasted!" you joke and jeonghan smiles.

"i always love your amazing masterpieces. think i'll grow out my hair a little more, wanna try those claws again," he says, slender fingers messing around with his hair in the mirror.

"really? i'll have to bring those out again, there's a few i wanna try on your hair again."

jeonghan sits up, "we could match!"

you gasp at the idea, "we'd be so cute, hannie!"

#hani: asks #yoon jeonghan #yoon jeonghan fluff #jeonghan #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan seventeen #seventeen #seventeen fluff

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mightiestofmumblers · 2 days

Text

Simon Riley, who's been surrounded by death for longer than he can remember. It's become harder and harder to remember the years without it. Whether the ones who fall are the soldiers beside him or enemies at his own hands no longer matters to him, not really, not like it should.

Ghost, who becomes used to watching that final spark leave a set of eyes before they become glossy and empty. It takes him years to notice that final little thing. Nothing more than a reflection, but She's there.

Ghost, who questions Price and Soap, quietly and reluctantly, but they don't understand. They don't get it like he does. And it doesn't make sense, he knows it doesn't. Soldiers are known to go insane after too long in the field, perhaps that's what's happening to him.

It's after not sleeping for 60 hours that he sees Her after all, sweeping or floating through the battlefield, draped in every colour on the spectrum and not a single one of them. Ghost has never seen a face like it, and he knows he never will. All of Her reeks of paradoxical features and curves that swirl and change whenever he thinks he's finally grasped some aspect of Her. She bends down, soft and caring, as the final light slips from his teammate's eyes, and She carries him with her while his body remains.

The second he tries to stop Her, reach out and touch her, his hands slip through her. For one moment lasting years and less than a second, She glances at him. He doesn't blink, but She disappears anyway.

Years pass. Ghost recognises her. Always. In time, she watches him through reflections. She follows him wherever he goes. But there's nothing cruel about it. It's impossible with the sad smile shining from Her. It's not something she does but rather something that she is.

Ghost, who no longer has any true fears on the battlefield. It's simply another work day. But it changes when he sees Her. How She looks at him. He isn't afraid of Death but he manages to stagger back. Running is futile, he's seen others feverishly try to crawl from Her, fingers scraping at the ground until the skin wears away, a bloody trail following the leg no longer there and all of it with no use. Fighting is quite the same: as impossible as this entire thing is improbable.

"Shhh." Something beyond a voice, coming from his own head, he's sure, coos. "So close to me. You rarely ever are. How long has it been? No... you're alright, my love."

Ghost stops. She's infinitely tall yet he looks down at Her. Her smile isn't sad as She stretches a hand towards him, lifting the bottom of his mask, and that's when an inkling of fear finds him. For years, She's been his sole comfort on the battlefield. A single neverending entity he could always trust to be with him no matter how many years were to pass, but after wishing for so long to see Her, have Her closer, he wants nothing more than hundreds of miles to separate them.

"Is it time?"

"Afraid not, love." She smiles with a thousand pleasant summer days and cosy winter nights. "I have a job to do, but you've been close to me for so long. I want to see your face before I go."

Death lifts the skull, removes every layer until his scarred skin is visible to Her.

"How can I see you?"

"What a wicked thing it is." A sigh falls from wonderful lips as She caresses his cheek with a cool touch. "I'm sorry, Simon."

"Simon..." He repeats, tasting the foreign word.

She's fading.

"Wait! How can I-"

"Don't worry, love. No matter what, you'll see me again at the end."

Ghost becomes worse, more than he's ever been. With enough blood on his hands and enough souls at his feet, he can see Her again. He haunts the battlefields like never before, staring into the eyes of his victims for the mere chance of catching a glimpse. However long, no matter how many bodies it takes, he will see Her again.

« ⌑⌑⌑⌑⌑⌑⌑⌑⌑ »

I've had this in my ideas doc for, like, years, and I just needed to get it out lmao. I'd love to write a full fic but unless I'll get 30 hours in a day, I don't have that kinda time lmao.

#cod #call of duty #ghost #drabble #ghost cod #ghost fanfiction #141 #task force 141 #fan #fan fiction #wri #writing #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley

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dfortrafalgar · 1 day

Text

Gift of Belonging

Luffy x GN Reader

Life didn't have a purpose without Luffy.

Warnings: Fic from my 100 followers poll!!! can be read as either platonic or romantic, mentions of self deprecating thoughts but nothing too severe, just some short, feel good, reassuring hugs from our favorite straw hat-wearing captain <3

Taglist: @bokutosbiceps | @luffy0s | @surgeonoffish

You were at the end of your rope when you joined the straw hats, but who wasn’t? You weren’t special in the grand scheme of the world’s most infamous pirate crew. You couldn’t compare to the tumultuous lives of the rag-tag bunch that had quickly become your lifeline, you had nothing on being the child of an abusive royal family, or the last survivor of a decimated nation, or the unfortunate witness to the killing of a friend or parent, or a literal god. You weren’t a cyborg or an animal or a reincarnated being hundreds of years old. You were just… simple.

And yet, the Straw Hats made you feel accepted.

They made you feel wanted.

And no one had wanted you more than Monkey D. Luffy.

You still struggled to accept the boisterous boy’s words when he welcomed you aboard his grand ship. You had put up an argument, insisting that you would only get in the way, that your strengths paled in comparison to the rest of the crew, that you had no business being a part of the inner circle of one of the Emperors. But not a single eyelash was batted in the direction of your plight. Simply endless stares of patience, waiting for you to finally bite the lure and climb up the gangway and officially join the Straw Hats. And when you finally did, Luffy had said the words that had stuck with you since then.

“I don’t care who you are. You’re special and you deserve a spot in my family.”

It was as if the world opened up around you for the first time. Instead of seeing your surroundings in black and white, colors infiltrated your retinas in ways you had never experienced. Suddenly, the sunshine that beat down on your skin felt like a pleasant hug from the world, rather than a punishing burn against your weary being. Food you ate and drank every single day tasted extra good because it was always cooked with love and affection, the flirtatious cook not caring at all where you had come from. Luffy and his crew made it known from the second they met you that you were deserving of love, respect, and friendship.

And you couldn’t lie… the first few days were overwhelming.

The Straw Hats were loving. They were really loving, and their unique ways of showing they appreciated you were slowly building up in your veins like a disease until one night, when you were on watch, you cracked.

You broke down.

You sat on the stern of the Thousand Sunny, gazing out from the white-painted railings and over the vastness of the dark ocean and seamlessly blended in with the sky above you, the only light shining on you being from the twinkling stars millions of light years away. Quiet, salty tears flowed down your cheeks, your shoulders clenched as you wrapped your arms around yourself, sniffling into the collar of your shirt. You loved your crew, you really did. You began to realize that you loved them more than you ever loved anyone else in your life, and that thought somehow scared you. Like you were unprepared. Like your heart had been so deprived of love for your whole life that the overabundance of it in such a short time caused your brain to short-circuit. And you cried. You weeped on the Sunny’s back deck, into the calmness of the night.

Until the sound of clopping flip-flops climbing the steps to where you sat alerted your attention, causing you to freeze up, holding your breath, wishing your tears could evaporate away.

“Hey, what are you doing up here alone?” It was Luffy, his usually exuberant voice a rare form of calm as he approached you. He wasted absolutely zero time in plopping himself onto the hard deck beside you, extending his legs and holding his arms out, hands behind his head.

You stayed hunched into yourself, trying to hide your shame in your hands.

“Hey… are you alright?” he asked, his voice somehow even softer.

A faint sniffle from you was all your captain needed to hear. He sat up with a start and grabbed your shoulders with his calloused hands, yanking you around to face him. Your eyes were wide with shock at his actions, but you stayed frozen. It’s not like you could run anywhere, the man was made of rubber.

“Why are you crying?” he asked, his eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed, an intense stare that bored into your skin. “Did someone say something to you? Did someone hurt you?”

You shook your head, wiping your tears away on your arm. You took a deep, shuddering inhale before finally forcing your shoulders to relax. “No… no one said anything to me.”

“Then why are you crying?”

Luffy, despite not being overly emotional in normal circumstances, was scarily good at reading people. It didn’t matter if you couldn’t outright say what was bothering you, he would eventually figure it out with that convoluted tunnel system of a brain. His adorable lips curled into a pout as he analyzed your face, picking apart every twitch of your muscles.

You inhaled once more, turning your face away from him slightly. “I’m just… not used to this.”

“Not used to what?”

His questions, and the feigned clueless tone of his voice almost made a smile crack onto your face. Another talent of Monkey D. Luffy: he was like a wrecking ball for the walls you built up around yourself.

“I’m not used to… this.” Your hands circled around you, gesturing to the ship, causing Luffy to finally drop his hands from your shoulders. “Being a part of a crew. You guys are… too nice to me.”

Luffy was ready with a response immediately. “We could never be ‘too nice to you.’ That’s impossible. We love you.”

Your lip quivered slightly. “That’s what I’m not used to.”

“Being loved?”

There it was. You feebly nodded. “Yeah. That.”

Your captain scooted across the deck closer to you, if that was even possible. He was basically flush against you at this point. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a warm bear hug, his fluffy black hair tickling the skin of your cheek. “We love you because you’re special to us, we don’t need a reason for that,” he described. His voice faltered, as if he wanted to say something else, as if he was trying to add to his words. Instead, he squeezed you into him, closing his eyes as he felt your muscles grow limp. ‘We love you, but I love you more.’

“I just wish it was easier for me to accept that,” you whispered into his shoulder, struggling to hug him back.

Luffy’s embrace didn’t relent. If anything, he tried to pull you in closer. The force of his hug made you lose your balance on the floor, falling over on top of him, your chin hitting his shoulder. But he still didn’t let up. He held firm, squeezing you as if you would fade away into dust if he let go.

“Luffy–” you wheezed against his skin.

“What?” He sounded completely oblivious. “I’m going to keep hugging you until you don’t feel sad anymore. No more crying,” he demanded. “Captain’s orders.” His last sentence held a hint of playfulness, the smile he surely wore on his face coming through the sound of his voice.

He must have been contagious, because your own grin slowly grew on your lips. After what felt like hours, you finally reciprocated his hug, curling your arms under him and letting yourself finally relax in his embrace. You knew Luffy had odd ways of showing he cared, but this was definitely unexpected. Unexpected, but not necessarily unappreciated. His presence emitted a warmth akin to summertime air, his existence like the calming breeze of the open ocean that wafted around you and circled you in comforting drafts. Luffy never judged, never wavered, never ceased to let his crew, and now you, know how truly grateful he felt to be able to live his life with his favorite people.

You made a slight movement to stand up, but Luffy’s arms tightened their hold around your back. “Not yet,” he grumbled. “I don’t wanna stand up yet.”

“Is this how you comfort everyone on the crew?” you asked, your voice coming out muffled as you spoke into his neck.

“Hmm… not necessarily. Everyone’s different. Chopper really loves hugs, and Zoro lets me hug him, but sometimes Nami and Robin can take them or leave them. Usopp likes hugs but doesn’t like to admit it.” A smile crawled to your face as your captain rattled off the preferences of your fellow crewmates, the ways in which he perceived their unique and individual personalities bringing a comforting reassurance to your heart. “I feel like you really like hugs, and you clearly needed one right now.”

You bit the inside of your lower lip, trying to bite back the tears that formed in the corners of your eyes. The tension escaping your body dissipated in large waves, leaving you with nothing but warmth and comfort in the arms of the man who had surely saved your life.

And for the first time since officially joining the Straw Hats, you began to feel truly, unconditionally loved. It was miraculous. All it took was a single hug from the nicest, most selfless person you had ever met.

Someday, you’d be sure to return the favor for Luffy, even if he wouldn’t accept.

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #monkey d luffy x reader #luffy x reader #monkey d luffy #luffy oneshot

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navstuffs · 2 days

Note

hi!! i really love your writing and i would love if you could feed me with a request (only if you're comfortable with it, ofc) 👉🏼👈🏼 what about a leon x reader where reader is passing through a very tough depressive crisis and is really not fine mentally speaking — and leon just try to help and comfort them through this? 👉🏼👈🏼

anyway, thank you for your fics, they really helped me these days 😭💗

Anchor

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x GNPartner!Reader

Summary: It is 1 am when Leon Kennedy knocks on your door. He shouldn't be there and you shouldn't have opened it.

Warning tags: hurt/comfort, angst, leon almost died, reader is suffering with anxiety due to past events, can be read as platonic or romantic (you choose)

Writer's Notes: hello! first of all, im sorry i took so long to write this request for you. i changed some stuff and i hope you don't mind (reader is still depressed). thank you so much your kind words and i hope this fic serves as comfort for you!! <333 stay safe anon!

for more painful leon's fics, check my masterlist. i have some happy ones too :)

It is 1 am when Leon Kennedy knocks on your door. It is the third time that week only, the fifth of the month.

It starts when you don’t appear at work after two weeks since his return, and no one knows where you are. HR informs you are sick, which means you are still alive somewhere in the world, just sick. Okay, but sick with what? Sick how? Are you in the hospital? Do you need any help? Leon knows you don’t have family around, like him, and you are pretty much alone - like him.

So, as any regular worried friend would, he calls and texts. He wants to hear your voice and guarantee that you don’t need help and have everything you need. That you truly are okay. No answer. HR has guaranteed him you are not dead, but what if you—no, he shouldn’t think about that.

The next step is going to your house. He knows where your address is and wouldn’t be a complete weird appearing there in the afternoon. No answer. Leon won’t be a creep as far as looking at your windows, at least not yet. He won’t go as far as busting your door and checking how you are feeling because he needs to confirm you are okay. You might just not be home.

On the second visit, Leon got awfully close to kicking your door. Before he could do that or even knock, he saw a shadow pass over the window. Though Leon told himself he wouldn’t, he looked inside just in time to see you disappear to the second floor. So, at least you are really alive, Leon’s body filling with relief. It could have been a bad case of flu, and you don’t want to contaminate anyone.

One more week passes, and he visits your house two more times. Those times you didn’t even bother to hide yourself, lazily lying down on the sofa in a way Leon couldn’t see your face (oh yeah, now he is definitely peeking out your windows). So you are genuinely ignoring him or truly sick with some contagious disease. Maybe Covid?

The fifth time he knocks on your door, it is 1 am and Leon is deeply not only worried but bitter. He was sitting in his apartment alone, wondering what you had and why you didn’t open the door for him. You two are colleagues, and Leon would dare to go as far as to call you his friend if anyone asked. How many times have you brought him soup while he was sick? Brought him meds, kept him company? Checked on him until he was finally all better?

It would be only fair if he did the same.

Leon grabs his keys without even thinking: You will open the door for him tonight. And if you don’t, well, he will kick it open. To hell with the civil approach.

-x-

All the courage slips away from his body when he notices the kitchen’s light on. Leon can’t see anything inside since you decided to make his life harder and close the curtains. So, instead of kicking that door until it’s down, Leon goes back to the gentle approach (like the idiot he is): he knocks.

The door opens not even ten seconds later, and Leon blinks, surprised. You are there. You, not a trick of his eyes: a fluffy and long blanket covering your body, only your face peeking with a familiar expression Leon recognizes immediately - he had seen in his own mirror before.

“You won. What the fuck do you want?” Those are the first words to him in weeks.

“May I come in?”

You ponder for a moment, your eyes red, and Leon wonders when you last slept. You walk away, leaving the door open, and Leon follows inside, locking the door behind him.

Your house isn’t in the best state. He had been here before and thought you weren’t the most organized person (“I can find myself in my own mess, Leon.”). The mess had grown too much from normal. There were tons of take-out boxes on the kitchen counter, pizza boxes, and fast food bags. At least you had been eating—not the best food ever, but feeding. He could work with that.

And the bottles—oh, those Leon would identify anywhere. You weren’t a heavy drinker, and you mentioned plenty of times you didn’t know how he liked whiskey. Now, there were countless empty bottles of whiskey, beer, and vodka, so much so that the place looked like a bunch of frat boys had a party just the night before and didn’t bother to clean.

Leon follows you to the living room as you fall onto the couch. An old Simpsons episode plays on the TV screen. There are still some bags and bottles on the floor, but fewer. Your eyes focus on the TV, not really watching or paying attention to him. Leon stands there, keeping a safe distance from you and gathering what to say.

“I came to check on you.” Leon starts, his eyes glued on you. “You haven’t called or texted me back. The HR said-”

“I am sick. I wanted to be left alone.”

“I know, but-”

“I could complain about this to HR, you know? It could be considered an invasion of privacy, and you could lose your job. “

“I was worried about you.”

“You saw me in the window that day, didn’t you? I’m alive and breathing. Now get out.”

You hide your face in the sofa, conversation clearly done on your side. It feels like an impossible battle to win. Leon then tries again, “Do you need anything?”

“No. Get out.”

He sighs, turning on his heels. Leon wants to say you can call if you need him, any time, but Leon knows you wouldn't. This is an impossible battle to win, Leon realizes as he starts to leave. But then he freezes, a memory piercing his thoughts. Leon comes back to the living room, your face still hidden.

“No.”

“What?”

“I am not leaving. Not before I know what is wrong.”

“I am sick.”

“Yes. So I have heard.”

You don’t turn to look at him, and that’s fine. If you want to be stubborn, so could he. Leon can wait. The episode on the TV finally ends, and as the familiar opening plays in the background, you slowly turn in his direction, one eye appearing first, then the other, as if expecting Leon would be gone by now. Unlucky for you, Leon S. Kennedy didn’t give up that easily, especially for his friends.

“I don’t know what you are feeling, but I know that face.” His voice manages to sound neutral.

Of course, he does. Of course, your partner, the legendary D.S.O veteran, would know. You, just a newbie, would have no idea what he went through, but Leon didn’t seem the kind of person to crumble for anything. Leon would probably be fine if you were the one to get shot, not him. He wouldn’t have panicked, he wouldn’t have started crying, screaming for someone to help them, losing themselves in a sea of despair and pain.

“Hey…”

Blood. So much blood in your hands. You are useless, you can’t help him as Leon’s face loses color-

“Hey.”

He deserved someone better—someone much better as a partner—not you, a weak agent who thought you were strong enough to stand by his side. Oh, how wrong you were.

Leon calls your name, more urgent this time, and your line of sight is filled with the face of the man you considered your friend right at your path—concerned blue eyes, his hair tickling against your face. His forehead is in concentration, the faint ghost of a beard, as he speaks soothingly. “Hey, look at me. You are safe. Deep breaths, come on.”

The visions mix as you blink: Leon losing blood in your arms, unconscious, back to being safe, his worried eyes staring at you.

Your rapid breathing noise fills the room, your heart wanting to burst as the pain spreads over your body, the pain worse than being stabbed or punched. You keep your eyes on Leon - he is fine, he is safe, he is well, he is worried sick about you- as he continues to nod and tell you to breathe.

It takes a while, Leon’s hands on your shoulder as you finally calm down, the tears rolling freely from your eyes.

“I am sorry.” You manage to whisper. “I am so sorry.”

“You are safe. We both are safe.” Leon declares, and you take that in. Right now, yes. But what about tomorrow? What about-? “Hey, eyes open at me.” When had you even closed them? “Come on. There is no one else, just you and me. And we are safe.”

You nod, not arguing back. Finally, you sit down, and Leon takes two steps back. “Water?”

“I think there are some in the fridge,” you reply, cleaning your tears. Leon leaves and quickly comes back with two bottles, unbottling them for you. You shake your head, but Leon insists, and you drink in small sips, the cold liquid refreshing your dry throat. When was the last time you had any water? Or took a shower? Or slept?

Finally, you give him space on the couch to sit. Leon doesn’t, and you point your head to your side, and he sits, keeping a safe distance from you. You two say nothing for a while, simply looking at the TV to watch Bart Simpsons on his shenanigans.

“I am sorry.”

“Would you stop that?” Leon sighs back, frustrated.

“No. I am sorry.”

“Fine. I forgive you. Are we good now?”

“No.”

“I knew it wouldn’t be,” Leon replies with a sad smile.

“You could have died, and I didn’t-” Leon says your name, but you continue “-let me finish. I didn’t help. I didn’t move. I did nothing.”

Leon didn’t want to talk about this, knowing it was inevitable. The day he took a bullet for you: not one, but two. Leon noticed before you, his reflexes quicker than yours. It was his responsibility anyway.

You only watched, shocked, as the bullet pierced his leg, then his chest. You didn’t move or flinch; you just froze, your hands closing and opening nervously as Leon fell right in front of you. You had been fortunate that the backup team had arrived on the other second, finding in the middle of the swarm of bullets a screaming you protecting Leon with his own body, all training thrown out of the window. You two should have been dead. Life had given you and him another chance, since no other vital organ or vein of Leon had been damaged.

You don’t remember much after except asking for your resignation that same day and getting a “No” as an answer. So you decided to get on sick leave until some higher-up got tired and fired you.

“I did nothing.” Leon tries to interrupt you again, but you continue, “You could have died, and I did nothing.”

“It wouldn’t be your fault.”

“What? Of course, it would!”

“No, it would not.”

“Can you fucking stop trying to make me feel better?” Your tone is so angry, so vile, that Leon almost flinches.

Death is always in the back of his mind. Every time he is out there, he could die. He is expandable; they all are, but he couldn’t just let you die. You a much smarter version of what he once was during Raccoon City. The same bravery, but not foolish as his. Much sharper. Leon knew why he got paired up with you in the first place, the irony not completely lost in him.

It would have been fine if Leon died that day he protected you, but not okay if you did. Not on his watch. Not now, not ever.

“I can’t help it,” Leon replies, a sad smile on his lips. “I can’t help it, especially when a friend needs my help.”

A friend?

Do not grow attachments. Wasn’t that your first lesson? It had been hard to be paired up with a man who hated it at first, then to learn how to laugh at his silly jokes or admire how far Leon would go for anyone. For anyone, except himself, stupid brave man.

You open your mouth and close it, simply lying against the sofa with your eyes closed.

“So, let me help you?” His voice is warm and inviting.

It would be best if you said no. You should kick this man out of your living room, out of your life, and never go back to that stupid job fighting an endless battle that would end with you dead or someone you cherished dead. You don’t know how Leon does it, but as you open your eyes, his blue eyes look straight at you awaits in hope. Waiting to comfort you, support you to the best of his abilities, and be your friend.

The pain is still there, vivid in your soul and mind, but there is hope. Right there, in that tiny spot you gave Leon S. Kennedy. That’s why you shouldn’t have opened that damn door, you realize, but it is too late. You limit on nodding.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy fic #leon kennedy fanfics #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy imagines #request #requests #asks #ask

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pomefioredove · 1 day

Note

Can we have kalim's ending for the yuu auction as well? I was pretty excited for his outcome

of course of course!

parts 1 | 2 | 3

summary: a kalim ending type of post: short fic characters: kalim additional info: yuu is gender neutral, this is maybe a little short, hi kalim :)

"Problems don't just go away when you throw money at them, you know," Vil says. The tone of his voice is sour, and he's making no effort to hide it. "You'll have to actually take some responsibility."

Leona rolls his eyes. "Oh, shut it. They're not a pet, they can handle themselves. You're just butthurt it wasn't you,"

"And yet, here you are, still moping just the same," he snaps back. "Kalim, congratulations. I'm sure the prefect will- where'd he go?"

Despite their best efforts, Kalim hadn't heard a single word of the other housewarden's well wishes (and warnings).

He was gone before they'd even started, in fact.

Even with all he'd had prepared beforehand- the new room, the uniforms, all of your favorite foods- there was suddenly a list a mile long on his mind.

First, he had to get you.

Then, he had to show you around your new place.

Then, dinner.

Followed by dessert, of course.

(Maybe a light appetizer to start? Why hadn't he thought of that already?!)

And then he'd treat you to an evening of your favorite songs, laughter, and fun.

So on, and so forth.

Kalim may be a little oblivious at times, but your poor condition at Ramshackle is no secret to anyone. He'd been talked out of helping more than once before- and, so, this was his chance.

The gravity of technically owning a person who doesn't legally exist in this world hasn't crossed his mind even once. The way he sees it, he gets to host you indefinitely, take you on vacations with his family, treat you to the life you deserve after all you've done for everyone, and no one can tell him no.

Though, something still sits in the back of his mind, something that asks him to walk before running. A voice of reason.

If Kalim had a shoulder angel and devil, both of them would somehow be Jamil:

"I would advise taking it easy on them as they adjust. This whole spectacle must have been difficult for them. You're a good listener when you try. Now's a chance to show that,"

More than anything, Kalim wants to impress you.

Such a thought would make anyone else scoff- the gold and jewels and magic carpets aren't enough?

And his answer would be... well... no.

Kalim possesses many things. He has entire houses full of treasure, trinkets, fine silks, servants at his every whim... and yet, he's still missing something crucial. Something he's become more and more aware of since coming to NRC.

A bond.

Of course, he loves his siblings. And his parents. And the students in Scarabia. And the students in the other dorms. He might consider all of the above friends, but not at the emotional level he seeks. Jamil is a work in progress. But you- you're already well-acquainted, and friendly. You're a gracious guest, a great listener, and... well, you had the kind of bond he looks for with so many other people on campus.

Why else would everyone be lining up to pay to be your friend otherwise?

(That's how he saw it, anyway).

So, he listens. Makes an effort to, anyway. He even stops feeding Grim at dinner when you ask him to.

"Oops!" he says, offering the direbeast a gold-lined handkerchief to wipe around his mouth. "But it's good, right? Jamil's family recipe is always delicious!"

You quirk a smile at him. "I liked it. Grim?"

Grim mumbles something indistinct and crawls to sit on the other side of you.

"I'm glad! I remember you telling me that you miss it from your home- I can't believe some of our recipes are so similar!" he beams. "Maybe Scarabia will start feeling like a home to you, too, then!"

You laugh, a little awkwardly. "Aha... maybe. This is all just so sudden,"

"But... good, right?"

"Yes, good," you smile, tilting your head to the side. "It's a step up from being Crowley's errand-runner and sleeping in the cold, at least."

"Well, you'll certainly never be cold here!"

He laughs again, and a murmur of agreement ripples through the students in attendance, all the way down to the end of the long table.

"Ah... Kalim, this is nice. Really nice... I don't know how I'm going to repay you for any of this,"

"Pay? Like with money?" he raises an eyebrow. "You're my guest, and an honorary member of Scarabia now, so you don't have to do anything but relax."

That's not exactly what you meant, though you don't have the heart to explain what exactly Crowley's care had been like.

"...Right. But really, if you need anything done- I'll be glad to do it,"

He's quiet for a moment, thinking. "Well... if you're really bored, I'm sure you could find something to do. We have lots of board games,"

"No, I meant like, work,"

Kalim blinks. "Why would you have to work?"

You should've just let it go. Now this is getting embarrassing, admitting all that Crowley had you do when you had no say in the matter.

"You know... to earn my keep,"

"Earn your..." he squints. "You don't have to earn anything. Having you here is reward enough for me!"

Sometimes his oblivious nature can be a little comforting.

And even though it's dark, his positivity is as radiant as the sun... you can't help but return his smile.

"Alright, then,"

"Alright! Now..." he says, looking around the table. "Who's ready for dessert?"

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #kalim al asim x reader #hope you like this anon <3

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video-game-luvr · 3 days

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80's themed Honkai Star Rail!

A/N: Let me cook! Let me cook! These prompts will be made into yandere fics, if you guys enjoy it, the smut will come eventually.. If you folks dig it! Just be patient and let me cook! I haven't ever posted actual fics or series so my work isn't the best but I still hope you bunch enjoy it nonetheless! Feel free to correct me or tell me if it's OOC! I am always open to improving! English was not my first language.

My ask box is open for ideas and thirsts! Maybe an 80s slasher theme next? A serial killer is on the loose! Who could be behind the mass disappearances!

Neighbourhood dilfy uncle Gallagher, who is friends with your parents... This prompt would also work so well with Jingyuan! Your parents just trust their friends so much, don't they?

Welt being that hot librarian with a mature charm. You can't help but gaze at his veiny and calloused hands, holding that book, and scrutinizing everything about the contents of the book.

Sneaking out at night to skate around with Caelus and Luka!

Dan Heng who is part of a band, as a bassist. Walking around everywhere with his headphones on. Talking about music with him, and him sharing all his favourite songs with you by giving you a custom made cassette! (Though it was probably pirated)

Going to a cassette store and befriending Dan Heng gives you butterflies. The usually cold and hard-to-approach Dan Heng was now your friend!

Gepard being the local heartthrob, he is such a sweet man, always helping his neighbours with carrying their groceries to their house. Funnily enough, this man is also really clumsy. Your mom asked for his help in changing a light bulb, only for him to fall over from the ladder, luckily he didn't get any major injuries from it.

More about Gepard, he is part of the baseball club! His broad figure and precise aim makes him perfect for it! Just about everyone has a crush on this brawny oaf! He is such a himbo. He can definitely do no harm!

Rock star Blade/Yingxing! It just makes so much sense! Especially if his band is punk, definitely an alternative band for sure, even if it's not punk. Just cheering for him with all your heart, and seeing him throw a wink your way.. Orz "Meet me behind stage." He mouthed to you. The cold arrogant star took a liking to you! Now this is exciting!

Ah yes, Sunday. The epitome of a perfect man. A role model for everyone in school. (Probably a preppy private school) His drive to keep things in order is commendable. All of his perfect execution as a school president isn't limited to the school. He also most definitely goes to church and organizes youth events, leading the choir, you name it!

However, under that flawless persona. Sunday is probably hiding some deep dark secrets. Who knows what that man is thinking.(It's giving... cult leader!)

Playing videogames with Caelus! Who has been your trusty neighbour for years! Your first encounter was him digging into piles of junk, you were really weirded out at first, and probably refused to play with him. But with enough nagging from your mom, you slowly warmed up to the idea of being friends with that weird silly neighbour of yours. From that point on, you guys started to play videogames together! Caelus has started to change over time, he seems to not be able to focus on videogames anymore.. His face oddly becomes red when he catches you gazing at his face. Without your knowledge, someone's love has started to bud and bloom. (He wants you so bad! You might regret befriending this weird kid!)

Himeko is the absolute hot aunt! The resident MILF! Every time she talks with your mom, you can't help but stare at how beautiful she is. She can't help but tease you about how adorable you look with that flushed face of yours. Your mother trusts her with all her heart. I'm sure she wouldn't do anything twisted.

Argenti, an art student. His vision of what beauty is is directly painted onto the canvas. He is incredibly passionate about his vision. A beautiful birth, a beautiful life, a beautiful end to life. He may seem a bit eccentric at times, but he means well... Right? (He is probably a cult member... Not Sunday's though. He is a follower of the path of beauty!)

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calicoheartz · 6 hours

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could you write something about being coach bluder's granddaughter but not having any interest in basketball but you show up tp practice one day to surprise your grandma and Caitlin immediately has a crush on you?

Unexpectedly Unexpected ; Caitlin Clark ⸝⸝ ♡

summary : you are coach bluders granddaughter , what happens when Iowa’s star player has a little crush on you ? 👀

wc ; 774

warnings : none

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : hey guys! so happy to be back posting my cait fics , tysm for requesting this! Enjoy ◡̈

As the granddaughter of Coach Bluder, basketball has always been a huge part of your life. The sound of dribbling balls and squeaking snickers filled your childhood, as you spent countless hours watching from the bleachers, absorbing the excitement and intensity that came with it.

But despite this, basketball never really spoke to you. Yeah you enjoyed watching it, but it never really captured your interests like it did for the rest of your family. You instead pursued other passions, carving out your own path outside of the basketball world.

Years went by, and you found yourself living your own life, one that consisted of being away from the court. You still stayed in touch with your grandma, visiting her whenever you can and keeping up with her team's achievements and progress. One day, you decided to surprise her by showing up to a team practice, something you hadn't done in years.

As you walked into the gym, you were suddenly hit by a wave of nostalgia, with the sound of sneakers hitting the squeaky gym floor and the smell of the basketballs bringing you back to your childhood, and you couldn't help but smile as you watched the team scramble across the court.

Coach Bluder soon noticed you, breaking into a wide grin and soon rushing over to you to give you a big and loving embrace. The players, who had heard so much about you, welcomed you with open arms. Incredibly grateful and eager to meet the girl their coach had spoken so fondly of.

Among the players was Caitlin Clark, Iowa’s star point guard. Her talent on the court was undeniable of course, but it was her charisma and charm that truly set her apart from the rest. When she saw you, her eyes lit up, and she couldn't help but be completely drawn to you. Your presence engulfing her entirely and pulling the point guard in.

Throughout practice, Caitlin could not take her eyes off of you. She watched you closely as you interacted with the other players, laughing and joking with them as if you had known them for an entire lifetime. There was something about your easy going nature that captivated her, but couldn't put it into words.

After practice, she approached you, with a nervous grin displayed across her lips. She struck up a conversation, eager to learn anything about you. As you spoke, you found yourself to be completely drawn to her as well. Her passion for the game was infectious, and the way she herself spoke about it brought you to see basketball in an entirely new light.

In the following days, the brunette had taken you under her wing as you started to frequent their practices more often. As she showed you the ins and outs of the game, and introducing you to her teammates. You found yourself spending almost all your free time with her, being drawn to her enthusiasm and passion. Despite your initial disinterest in basketball, you couldn't help in being swept up by the excitement of it all.

As your bond with Caitlin grew stronger, so did her feelings with you. She found herself falling for you in ways that she never expected. Almost kissing on numerous occasions, she finally decided to bite the bullet and ask you the anticipated question.

After a victorious win for Iowa, she again approached you with the never grin she did when the two of you first met. You had noticed that she had been acting a bit strange all day, and you were curious as to what was on her mind.

“Hey..” she said, twirling her hair between her fingers. “I was wondering if…uhm, if you'd like to go out with me sometime? Like on a date?”

You were taken aback, not expecting for Caitlin to ask you out so directly. You could feel your cheeks getting red, and your heart skipping a beat as you tried to process her words, with a small smile spreading across your face.

“I would love to,” you replied, trying your best to try and contain your excitement.

The guard let out a sigh of relief, a wide grin soon appearing across her face. “Great! How does Saturday work for you? We could maybe catch a movie and grab dinner afterwards?”

“That sounds perfect,” you said, feeling a wave of calmness and content wash over you.

You soon walked away from the gym, hand in hand with Caitlin, and you couldn't help but feel extremely grateful for a sudden turn of events. Who knew that one simple visit would lead to such an exciting and promising future?

omgggg this is sooo cute!!! I promise im gonna start posting longer / more vague fics as i do have some series’s in the works! as always, tysm for reading! 😊❤️

#wlw #wlw imagine #wcbb #caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #wcbb x reader #headcannons #my hcs #iowa wbb #iowa hawkeyes #kate martin #wnba draft #wnba #wnba basketball

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pepperonidk · 2 days

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i. ride the sun away || all i could do

“All I could do was love you hard and let you go.” “Go and ride the sun away."

Pairing: Lee Jihoon x f!Reader Summary: 5 years ended with a note on the coffee table. Warnings: angst Word Count: 1227

A/N: Hello! It's been a long while, but this idea has been on my mind for a long time. This musical means a lot to me and so does this fic. I know Jihoon is an asshole in this... sorry lol

join the taglist! back to library || next chapter

The glint of light on the coffee table immediately drew your attention as you walked into the living room.

I called Chan and Seungcheol to help me get the rest of my stuff. I know you wanted to go see another counselor… but I don’t know what the point would be. I know I’m not the only one who’s hurting here, and I don’t see what the hell else we can do.

I don’t think you could see how deep the cracks run, or that I had run out of rope.We could keep fighting each other, keep hurting each other, but I think it’s time to just face it… I couldn’t be what you wanted.All I could do was love you – and god did I love you – love you hard and let you go.

-Jihoon

The weighty cream piece of paper lay on the coffee table and on top of it, Jihoon’s silver wedding band, identical to the one on your own finger. The lights are off, but the room is far from dark. The sun outside is at its zenith and its rays spill into the room and wash the air with enough light to see dust floating in the air. Aside from the note and silver band, glimmering in the light, nothing in the living room had been touched in weeks.

The walls are still covered in pictures of the two of you smiling and you wonder if all the “I love yous” ever meant anything or if the foundation was cracked from the beginning. You’re left with more questions than you’ll ever have answers to and all you can think of is how unfair it is that Jihoon felt that he had the right to decide that things were over.

He was the one keeping secrets. He was the one who moved on before things had even ended. He was convinced that you were the problem. He was the one running away. And you were covered in scars you didn’t earn.

I should be crying, you think to yourself. But you don’t. You haven’t cried in a while, really, because honestly, to say you didn’t see this coming would be a lie.

From the minute you met him five years ago, sitting at a table on the fourth floor of the library and madly scribbling into a worn leather notebook, you knew he was on a one way road to something bigger. You suppose it was only a matter of time that he would outgrow you too.

While nearly every other seat was occupied by students with strewn out textbooks, notebooks, and half-dead laptops cramming for midterms, he was writing a song. School was on the backburner for him (as were most other things), a backup plan in case his dreams were just a little bit too far. Interestingly enough, that was what drew you to him.

“Whatcha writing?” you had asked him, the nervous crack in your voice betraying your casual attempt at conversation. You had noticed him as soon as you sat down to study an hour ago, as he was one of the only people around without a laptop in front of him, but waited until your break to finally let your curiosity get to you.

It took a few seconds before he realized you were speaking to him and he finally lifted his head to look at you. You couldn’t help but smile as you realized the redness on his cheek from resting it on his fist and the messy state of his dark hair.

“Me?” he questioned as you nodded.

“There’s no one else at the table,” you teased.

“Oh,” he looked around as if he hadn’t given any attention to his surroundings in a while. “I’m working on a song,” he admitted softly.

“Cool,” you replied. “Is it for a class? My friend is in a songwriting class with profe–”

“No,” he interrupted, scribbling something else down before returning his attention to you. “It��s just for fun.”

“Fun, huh?” you began. “You have time for fun in the middle of midterms?”

He let out a chuckle as he shook his head. “I like to think I have my priorities sorted,” he answered. “I’m Jihoon.” He extended his hand out for you to shake.

You looked down at his hand, noting the calluses on his fingertips before taking it in yours and introducing yourself.

“So what about you?” he returned. “What class are you studying for?”

You turned your laptop around to show him the powerpoint you had pulled up from your music and neuroscience class. “I’m actually in a class about how music affects the brain,” you explained.

Jihoon’s face lit up in interest. “Really?” he asked. “How does it affect the brain then?” It had been a while since you were able to gush about your interest in neuroscience.

“Well,” you began, pointing your finger over the brain scans on the slide. “There’s some recent studies showing that music could help treat people with Alzheimer’s and some other neurological issues in elderly people.”

You looked over to Jihoon’s brows furrowed in interest as he nodded along. “That’s pretty cool,” he mused.

“Yeah,” you continued. “I saw a couple of videos that show patients with forms of dementia suddenly remembering complex ballet dances and specific memories just from certain musical cues with synaptic activity in many voxels that–” you cut yourself off, realizing you were going to start rambling.

“That what?” Jihoon looked back up at you, clearly still interested in what you had to say.

“That uh,” you blinked at him. “This isn’t boring you?”

“Huh?” he questioned. “This is really cool,” he laughed. “As a musician, it’s nice to know music is more than just something pretty to listen to. I could be making synapses move and what not. I’ll be making an impact.”

You laughed and nodded your head. “Well, synapses don’t move,” you corrected as Jihoon rolled his eyes before giving you a smile. “But thanks.”

“For what?”

“For listening.”

It’s easy, even now, five years later, to remember the way he looked bathed in spring sunlight and the feeling of his callused hands in yours even if you couldn’t remember the last time he actually touched you. He used to trace circles against your skin, humming melodies into your ear, a soft reminder every time of the day you met.

You look down now at your hand and pull off the band, setting it down next to Jihoon’s rather than picking them both up. They’re small, but something tells you they’d be heavy like lead in your palms. So instead, you opt to leave them there, to join the rest of the abandoned and untouched reminders of a life once shared.

On another day you’d take down the pictures of Jihoon kissing your cheek at the fair, the plaque you jokingly made for him out of macaroni after his first single first charted, and the blanket he bought you from Germany on his first tour. Maybe one day you’ll find a lesson to learn in all of this. But all of that would wait till another day when you can begin to move forward the way Jihoon has. But today, you choose to return to your room, to hold onto some semblance of familiarity, still hurting.

taglist: @sana-is-ms-rmty @yksthings @iamxelia @coveyland @xuimhao

#lee jihoon #woozi #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #woozi x reader #woozi scenarios #woozi fluff #lee jihoon x reader #woozi angst #lee jihoon angst #seventeen angst

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bubonicc-writing · 2 hours

Text

The Rebound

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3194

Summary: It's been a long time since Cooper has felt a loving touch. Perhaps a little too long because he's not entirely sure what to do with you.

CW: Semi-slow burn, smut, P in V, creampies, loving on a crispy man who needs it real bad. Prob ooc because this is my first fallout/reader fic ever (sowwy)

Cooper was a hard man to break. Downright standoffish and a straight-up jackass. At least that was what he was like when you first met him. Charismatic, confident, an excellent shot, but god, was he a prick. That, though, you had gotten used to the longer you traveled together. As the months dragged on, that standoffishness started to shed from the Ghoul.

It started with random small talk picking up between you two as you travel between settlements. For the first few months together, it was mostly silence or business talk traded between you. Who was the next bounty? Where were they last? Can you scavenge while I get intel? It was all just business. That was until one night, Cooper started making small talk between their travels. Then came the soft conversations by the fire when they settled for the night. Every week, the weight of that duster and those guns on his back seemed to lighten the more he talked to you. Then came the offered cantine of water on a scorching day. Already an out-of-the-ordinary gesture from him, more so because your cantine wasn’t empty and he was offering his for a sip.

You took it.

The small talk turned into jokes with hushed laughs between you. As Cooper drawled on, you watched him over the campfire's tip. The light it threw cast beautiful shadows along Cooper's features, and when that crooked ass grin warped his lips more and more, you felt a tinge in the center of your chest. A little candlelight flickering and quivering whenever he spoke in that long drawl. It blazed when his eyes flicked up at you, staring at you in a way that made it seem like he could see right through you. It was like he could see that candle burning just for him.

Now, when the two of you slept, you were no longer on opposite sides of the room. You both started to creep toward each other every night until you were only a few feet apart. Cooper never laid down when he slept. Instead, he leaned against the wall and semi-slouched. He’d tilt his hat downward until the brim hid his eyes. Finally, he would cross his legs and arms before drifting off. You, on the other hand, preferred your bedroll. While not much, it was still better than the barren floor or the questionable mattress they occasionally came across.

Tonight, a storm was coming through, bringing billowing winds and harsh rain that pounded the roof of the abandoned gas station they had sheltered in. You had tried hours ago to sleep, but the chill from the wind crept between the broken boards and cracked windows. You tossed and turned for what felt like hours, unable to get warm in any position. You flopped over one more time, now facing where Cooper was slouched against a wall a good two feet from you. His brim was cast down, covering his eyes as usual, but from how still he was, you figured he had fallen asleep a while ago.

Chewing your lip, you hesitated momentarily before scooting towards him and bridging the gap. Snuggling up against his hips and thighs, you sighed contently. He smelled of gunpowder and smoke, typical. Slumber tugged at your eyelids, and you finally drifted off within minutes.

A light sleeper for obvious reasons in this hellhole of a wasteland, Cooper had awoken the second you had touched his leg. He waited for you to settle before opening one eye halfway and staring down his brim at you. Studying your peaceful expression and how you pressed your nose into his thigh. Two rouge strands of your hair had fallen against your cheek, slightly curled at the tips.

A former version of himself would have shoved you away, telling you to git back to your side of the station. Except the current version of himself felt something swirling around in his chest. It was slightly uncomfortable but not all too unfamiliar.

It was a sensation he hadn’t felt for over a hundred years, something that longed for that little touch and craved so much more. It flopped around behind his ribcage, and he grits his teeth in annoyance.

Sighing and looking back down, he shifts gently. Bringing one hand down and outstretching two fingers, he tenderly brushes the hair strands behind your ear. With that, he recrosses his arms and sits back, eyes closing.

As the months continue, so do they, but Cooper is different at night. His expressions are somber, his eyes distant while he sharpens his knives. Deep in thought, sometimes it takes calling his name twice before he looks up at you.

“Coop, are you alright?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowed together in concern. You were annoyed when he smiled and chuckled softly, telling you he was peaches and cream. You didn’t push the matter and didn’t have to because he mentioned his daughter three nights later.

He spoke slowly, hesitantly, wondering if he should even be saying any of this to you in the first place. He wasn’t a vulnerable man, not anymore, anyway.

He spoke, and you listened, night after night, as more pieces of the puzzle of this mystery man fell together. Under all those clothes and behind all those guns, Cooper was still just a man—an ordinary man.

“You’ll find her Coop,” Reaching over from where you were sitting at his side, you placed your hand on his wrist and gently squeezed it, “I know you will.”

Cooper didn’t respond, but a smile so tiny it almost went missed curved the corners of his lips.

As you lay in your bedroll that night, you felt something shift against your front. Opening your tired eyes halfway, you watched through blurry vision as Cooper lay down next to you. His back was to you, but you scooted against his spine without a second thought. Resting your cheek between his shoulder blades, you closed your eyes again.

Eventually, Cooper lay facing you. Without saying anything, he would hook your waist and tug you against his chest. Then, you would feel him resting his chin on your head. The first time he had done it, your face burned so hot you feared you might catch ablaze. If Cooper noticed, he didn’t say. No matter, you didn’t want him to stop, and you were sure he didn’t want you to, either.

In truth, Cooper would be lying if he ever said he didn’t like the sensation of your small palms against his chest. He loved how you played with the buttons on his dirty shirt until you fell asleep.

Each night, you did the same thing, chest to chest, until finally, one night, you nuzzled your face into the nook of Cooper's neck. Soft and plump lips grazed across his scarred skin before placing a gentle kiss on Cooper’s jawline.

Immediately, Cooper stiffened against you. You felt his fingers tracing lazy patterns on the small of your back pause. You heard him swallow suddenly, and your stomach sank as you expected him to push you away and scold you.

Instead, Cooper cleared his throat and nestled his chin harder against the top of your head.

Days in the wasteland dragged on usually, but the following days felt like an eternity since that night. Bounty after bounty, caps collected, and supplies scavenged, Cooper never once brought it up. Instead, he carried on as usual, which, in truth, made your heartache.

It was possible that even after all of this time, the candle he had ablaze in your chest was not mutually lit.

What you didn’t know was that Cooper's heart had bounced out of his chest and into his throat that night. He didn’t think it was even possible for his cheeks to flush, but damn, they felt hot. It was alien; over 200 years of feeling the kiss of bullets, he had forgotten what a real one felt like. It was incredible but also terrifying.

He had loved, and he had lost.

The nights following the kiss, Cooper waited for you to make a move again, but you didn’t. You slept with your back to him and didn’t move when he pressed against you and draped an arm over your waist. After a few minutes, he felt your fingers intertwine with him in a gentle grip.

The two of you stayed linked that night.

The following night, Cooper watched as you shrugged off your jacket and kicked off your boots, getting ready to sleep after a long day of tracking a bounty through the unforgiving sun. Reaching up, you released your hair from its loose bun and let your locks fall messily over your shoulders.

You half turned when you felt Cooper grab your hand. Watching him bring it to his lips, he kissed your palm and pressed your hand against his cheek.

The brim of his hat temporarily hid his eyes, but when he looked up at you, your heart fluttered. No words were exchanged as you slowly leaned forward, having to stand on your toes even to come close to his marred lips. Centimeters away, you paused, but Cooper filled the gap.

The first kiss was gentle, and your free hand came up to cup Cooper’s other cheek. When you broke away, it wasn’t for long. Reconnecting, your kisses became hungrier, and your hands on Cooper's cheeks drifted downward. Running over his neck, then his collar and chest. You worked your way down as he kissed you until you palmed at his groin.

“Wait,” Cooper pulled away suddenly, stepping back, “wait…fuck” He turned on his heels, pacing back and forth.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, watching him shake his head and curse to himself. “Coop?”

Once he stopped pacing, he sighed and shook his head before glancing over his shoulder at you.

“I don’t think I have it in me no more, sweetheart.” He laughed softly at himself.

“What do you mean?” Taking a step towards him, she watched as he finally turned to face her.

“It’s… been a long time. A really long time, sugar.” Too long, really, at least, that is what he thought anyway. Nobody had touched him like this since before the bombs. Nobody had loved him. The only thing he knew now was blood, bullets, and ass jerky.

“Coop,” You said softly, moving towards him and wrapping your arms around his towering frame, “let me take care of you for once.” There was silence before Cooper rested his chin atop your head and laughed. Slowly, his hands came up to rest on your hips, his thumbs dipping under the fabric of your shirt to rub at the soft skin there.

Looking up, you place a chain of kisses along his jawline. Meanwhile, one of your hands pressed against his back snaked back to his front. There, you worked your way down again until you felt the subtle tent in his pants. You palmed it gently, drawing out soft groans from your Ghoul. He shifted in place, sliding his chin off your head and burying his face between the nook in your neck. His hips lean forward into your touch, and you purr at that.

“That’s it,” you whisper, working the top button until it pops. Next, you slide his zipper down and slide your hand inside. “I’ve got you.”

Upon grabbing his stiffening cock, you feel him tense against you, even sagging a little bit as you start to stroke. Your thumb rubs over his swollen head, spreading the generous amount of precum around. You feel it pulse against your palm, and you can’t help but smile when Copper’s breath stutters against your neck.

“Fuck darling,” He drawls, “You know how to drive a man mad.” Bringing his hands up from your hips, Cooper knots his fingers into the back of your shirt. It doesn’t take long to have him unraveling. You can feel his thighs trembling and his grip tightening the closer he gets to release. Like butter, he is melting and fast.

Each new noise you pull from him causes a feverish heat to swell over your form. Your stomach flips, and you feel your heat clench with desire. As much as you would like to keep your composure, you lean into him, pressing your forehead into his shoulder as you stroke faster and faster.

The choked growl Cooper lets out is the only warning you get before hot fluid coats your palm and wrist. His hips lurch in your grip twice before he suddenly sags hard against your form. Finger still twisted in your shirt, he finally lets go and lets his arms swing heavily by his sides. His legs are like jelly, and it takes him a moment to stand up semi-straight, his hat slightly crooked. He looks drunk, his eyes glossy, that stupid ass grin you loved smeared across his lips.

“That good, huh?” Stepping back to give him a little breathing room, you pluck the first few buttons of your shirt open. Allowing your shirt to part and fall from your shoulders, your breasts become exposed. With your other hand, you reach down and open the first button of your pants.

“Well then,” You coo, “come on then bounty hunter.” You shimmy your pants and panties off, kicking them off to the side, leaving your form raw to his eyes. “Come and get it.”

There was no need to ask twice. Rushing forward, Cooper grabbed your hips and slammed your forms together. Your lips crashed together again and again, and you whined into his mouth, horribly needy. You didn’t doubt Cooper had seen the slick glistening on your inner thigh.

Pushing you backward, you allowed Cooper to guide you to your bedroll. Once close enough to it, he kicked his foot out, hooked his heel around your leg, and pulled it out from under you. As you fell backward, he fell with you, landing flat on his palms. Towering over you now, eyes ablaze as they drink in your beet red face and beautiful puffy pink breasts.

“You’ve been wantin' this for a while, haven’t yah?” Lifting one of his hands and pressing it against your soft belly, he drags it down towards your heat. Without warning, he slides his middle and ring finger through your folds, running over your sensitive clit. You gasp, tossing your head back.

“Ngh! Fuck!” Looking up between your bodies, you watch as Cooper drags his fingers up and down over and over, teasing your swelling clit. “Fuck Coop, fuck!”

“Well,” He growls, “Who am I to keep a lady waitin'?” Without warning, his middle and ring finger coast downward and dip deep into your gushing cunt. The squeal that escapes your lips has Cooper chuckling. He presses deep into you, humming as your walls grip his digits.

Burying himself knuckle deep over and over, a squelching noise is followed by each hand thrust. You lift and twist your hips from the intense waves of pleasure. Only when you feel Cooper withdraw his fingers do you flop down, panting harshly.

Through half-lidded and blurry eyes, you watch Cooper bring his hand between you. He inspects them before spreading his two fingers apart, a tendril of thick fluid connecting them.

“You get this wet for everybody else? Or just little o’l me?”

Turning your head away in embarrassment, you feel Cooper grip your chin and return your gaze to him.

“Eyes on me.” He growls as he rolls his hips forward, running his stiff cock between your slick folds. The head bumps your clit, and for a moment, you think you see stars. Over and over again, he grinds against you, littering your chest with kisses in the meantime.

When you finally feel him lean back and press his head against your opening, he hesitates.

“It’s okay,” you whisper as you place your hand on his cheek and run your thumb over his cheekbone. “I’ve got you.” Sliding both arms around his neck, you gently tug him into your warm embrace. One hand rugs between his shoulder blades while your other rubs the back of his neck.

Allowing himself to lean forward, he nuzzles into the side of your neck before biting the soft flesh.

Rolling his hips forward, he breaches and slides into you with ease. Gasping and choking out a soft cry, you feel him bury himself to his hilt. Hip connected to hip for a brief moment, he finally drags himself out. Rolling forward, the pase is slow, perhaps even loving, before your Ghoul gets hungry.

It doesn’t take long before your hips are slapping together. You can’t stop the sobs of pleasure that break past your lips with each sharp snap of his hips. Digging your nails into his shoulder blades, you feel your eyes cross when the head of his cock punches that sweet, sweet bundle of nerves.

“Oh fuck, Cooper!” Your back arches off of your bedroll, “F-fuck! I’m… I’m” The hot waves of pleasure radiating from your belly to your groin all the way down your trembling thighs to your toes are winding too tight. “I’m gonna cum!”

He didn’t slow down and instead angled himself better to strike that little bundle of nerves that had your eyes rolling back. It took two hard hits before he felt your beck snap into a tight arch. He felt your chest bump hard against him, and your hips twisted to the right as your climate ripped you apart.

Head thrown back, mouth wide open, no sound came out of you as your climax held you prisoner.

Above, Cooper's thrusts started to become sloppy, losing their rhythm as your cunt clamped down on him spasmodically. As much as he tried to hold on, it had been too long, and you had felt too good.

Grunting hard into the side of your neck, you felt a warmth bloom in your groin as Cooper spilled everything he had left into you. He slammed your hips together, holding you in place and burying himself as deep as he could, pumping you full. The sensation had goosebumps blooming across your skin as your body finally deflated back down against the bedroll.

With eyes half-lidded and glossy, you made out the foggy shape of Cooper still hunched over you, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. Every other breath was a soft wheeze. Sweat had beaded on his forehead, and a droplet fell and landed on your chest.

Leaning back and sliding himself from your heat, a thick flood of cum followed. You shivered at the sensation and watched as Cooper lowered himself against your form. Resting his head between your breasts, he inhaled sharply and sighed.

Lovingly, you stroked the back of his neck, enjoying the sensation of his hot breath against your breast.

Together, you lay like that while listening to the rain from a passing storm plink against the tin roof.

When you looked down, Cooper's eyes were closed, and his breathing had finally leveled. Letting your head fall back, you closed your own eyes and smiled.

For once, the wasteland was at peace.

#fallout #fallout amazon #cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard x reader #this is my first ever character x reader fic I've ever written #so im new to this kinda fic but know I tried #also please #my asks are open for requests #I purchased premium Grammarly just to start writing more so please... give me fuel #I have another ghoul fic on the back burner where he is self servicing himself tee hee stay tooned

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telvess · 10 hours

Text

Pizza delivery girl

higuruma hiromi x reader fic, a bit of smut content (nothing extreme, only kissing, touching and inappropriate dialogues). 🔞 MINORS DNI 🔞

wc: 3,390

Big thanks to my @teatreeoilll for correct spelling and supporting me the entire time. You're the best 💕 This fic would never have been written without you!

He doesn’t even like pizza.

And yet every time he has to do overtime in the dull room he calls an office, all while working cases and overwhelming his mind to the point where he just wants to see the bed, he finds himself thinking of you - the pizza delivery girl - and wondering if he should order another damn pizza. You slip to his mind unannounced once the tiredness takes over and his brain needs stimulation.

Higuruma Hiromi never took himself for a daydreamer, but here he is - imagining scenarios that will never happen with a woman he barely knows.

Ding dong!

Hiromi feels his co-workers' eyes on him when he gets up from his desk, their gazes follow him all the way to the door. As he walks there’s a new spring in his step. It's that time of day.

He opens the door and sees you, the woman who rules his irrational side. You smile at him, freckles clear on your fair skin.

“We meet again,” Hiromi welcomes you, looking at your peach colored hoodie with a print on it that he assumes is the cover of some band’s album.

“I’m starting to think that there’s hidden reason you order from the same place almost every day,” you point out with a smirk. Hiromi likes the way your voice changed over the last few meetings - how it became partly coy and… seductive.

“Well, I'm starting to wonder what are the odds that you're always the one who delivers my orders,” he bites back.

Your smile deepens and with slight shrug you mutter, “Touché.” You hand him over the pizza. “But don’t jump to conclusions. I’m just worried about you”— and your voice lowers to a whisper as you lean closer—“a little birdie told me you’re living here, Higuruma-san.”

Hiromi enjoys the softness in your voice, but for the love of God, don't use this tone when you say his name. You straighten up with a contented smile when you notice him swallow.

“You’re looking more tired every day,” you admit.

It’s not that you're innocent in all this.

“Nothing gets past you, does it?” As you nod the brown hair in your pigtail sways.

“You should take care of yourself before helping others.”

“Tough case,” he tries to shrug it off.

“Yeah, I heard.” Hiromi looks up to see genuine concern in your eyes. Before he can ask, you continue, “I read the papers. You did good job.”

Hiromi wants to say the case it’s far from over, but instead he decides not to; he accepts the compliment with a nod.

“Work goes better on a full stomach,” he says, raising the pizza box to light up the mood. You snort and bite your lower lip.

“Well I’m sure it could go even better if you relieved the pressure here and there.” You massage your shoulders and move them as if you were exhausted. You catch Hiromi a bit off guard with that.

“Well, I”—He rubs his hand over his two-day stubble—“Heh…” He smiles and can’t force himself to look you into eyes, feeling annoying heat spreading over his cheeks.

“No comeback, huh?” He hears you barely holding your laugher. Soon both of you laugh, more or less openly. For a moment Hiromi forgets he's at his office. The burden that weighed upon his mind lately suddenly becomes bearable.

“You know, I was wondering…” He scratches his cheek with a finger. His head is still full of doubts, but the timing feels so right that Hiromi gives in spontaneous impulse.

“About what?” you tilt your head.

“I—” “Excuse me, is this the defense attorney’s office?”

That’s not the right question.

For split of a second Hiromi doesn’t register the man appearing by your side. Then he notices a patch on the man's jacket with the symbol of the courier company.

“Yes, it is,” you say.

“Mr. Higuruma Hiromi?” The man asks and Hiromi confirms with a nod. His eyes are still on you, observing how you smile with what he hopes is some sort of disappointment. You shrug, then wave at him and finally turn away.

Hiromi watches over man’s shoulder how you go down the stairs. One last peek at your ass before the disappointment in his chest slowly builds up. He takes the package, closes the doors and comes back to his desk, too pensive to feel his co-worker's eyes on himself.

“Oh enough already!” Hiromi flinches at the woman's voice. It doesn’t happen often for her to be this angry, especially not at him and not about matters that aren’t work related.

“Why won’t you ask her out already?” She asks, crossing her hands over her chest.

If there’s one thing that Hiromi is grateful for, it’s definitely the ability to keep his cool in stressful situations. Professional habit.

“Why would I?” His voice is drier than when he was thanking the courier for his service.

His co-worker takes a deep breath, then asserts, “Because every time she turns her back you stare at her ass with those sad puppy eyes of yours.”

Is this how criminals feel when they speak to him through the glass windows in the visiting room? Because he definitely feels like one of them caught red-handed.

“There are no puppy eyes. And besides,” he pauses, lacking a counter-argument, “I don’t stare.” It takes one long skeptical gaze to break his façade. “Fine. But I wouldn’t call it staring.”

The co-worker raises her brows.

“Then how would you call it?”

“Admiring?” he mumbles, hoping she doesn’t hear it. His co-worker chuckles from behind her desk. He sighs as he looks at her, and puts the package and pizza box on his desk.

“I don’t think she would decline though.” It was naive of him to assume the conversation was over.

“Don't you have work to do?” He tries to separate himself from her by breaking the line of sight with a book. His tie starts to irritate him, but loosening it up means giving more opening to his co-worker so he lets it choke him.

He hears how her heels knock on the floor as she comes to his desk and lean over to reach the pizza box.

“It’s very unusual to see you like this. I’ve always thought you were a robot when it comes to your personal life,” she takes a piece of margarita.

Hiromi raises eyebrows. The book in his hands drops down.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

She shrugs.

“You know… very, hmm… economical?”

“Nice save,” he mumbles.

Economical was the last word Hiromi would have used describing his personal life. Not after wasting so much money for a food he never eats.

“So, are you going to ask her out?”

“No,” he says but sounds very disappointed. Damn courier.

“Why not?” She frown.

“It’s complicated—”

“Rubbish! You could sell me that crap at the beginning when the both of you were acting like teenagers. Now”— she snorts—“you basically flirt like normal people do on the third date!” she waves her hands, as if trying to convince an invisible witness. “Except you never went out once and it seems that the two of you would rather die than change that…”

His co-worker takes a bite and looks at him, but this time Hiromi’s facade doesn’t break that easy. He only shrugs.

“Ugh! What’s the matter with you?” she snaps at him. “Have made it a mission to complicate everything in your life?”

“Guilty,” he admits without a blink. There’s no point in denying this. “And you can’t do anything about it. We aren’t at court.”

Hiromi watches as she chew in silence.

“You can have all of it.” He moves the box towards her.

“I know,” she answers. “It isn’t the pizza that’s on your mind.” She takes the box and walks back to her desk. Hiromi knows what she's about to say before she opens her mouth, “But with that attitude you never gonna taste that in your lifespan.”

How vulgar…

Hiromi sits on the couch in his dull living room, with a glass in one hand and a remote in another. He flips through channels, staring at the TV without a hint of interest. When exactly did he become the person who comes back to home and has absolutely no idea what to do with himself? Everything feels like an empty time filler at this point.

Click, click, click…

Hiromi maintains a fast pace, his eyes on the screen, but mind barely present. Drama show, reality talk, an okonomiyaki advertisment… “Our national pizza!” Says a lady with her mouth full. Not the best marketing gimmick, he thinks. But yeah… He could go for a pizza. Today someone has interrupted his little tête-à-tête with you, but maybe it isn’t too late to fix it?

Before he can think it through, his hand reaches for the phone and opens the food app on its own. The pizzeria you work at is marked with a star as the only one in his favorites. Hiromi chooses a margarita, pays in advance, and hopes that your boss has forced you to work overtime today.

And then… what remains to be done? Just wait. But this time sitting in his dull living room doesn’t feel awfully boring. Hiromi finally finds a comfortable spot on his couch. He leans back and puts his feet up on the table, feeling strangely relaxed. As if he has found the missing piece of the puzzle. The advertising marathon has finishes and he watches the beginning of unknown romantic comedy. A pleasant drowsiness slowly befuddles him…

Knock knock!

Oh? Is it already time?

Hiromi gets up from the couch, his body feels dizzy at first but with each step towards the doors it gets more and more tense. Dozens of thoughts run through his head as his hand reaches for the door handle. Will that be you? What should he say? He haven’t thought of any opening line… Now, that’s the lawyer everybody needs, right?

Very slowly he presses down onto the handle and opens the door.

“Hello, your pizza- Oh! Hi, Higuruma-san! What a surprise!” Your expression changes from weary to genuinely happy; Hiromi feels your smile deep in his chest. “So you don’t really live in your office, huh?” You try to take a peek over his shoulder.

“I have to come here from time to time. Otherwise they will start imposing rent at my workplace,” he answers, shrugging.

Your whole chest trembles as you laugh, you have the same hoodie you had afternoon with faces of some band on it. Hiromi catches himself at staring for too long at your chest. It draws your attention.

“Do you like this band?” you ask, pulling the hoodie to stretch the fabric, which reveals a bit of your neckline.

Hiromi finally raises his eyes to meet yours.

“I don’t know them,” he says honestly and, given the cheerfulness in your eyes, you seem to be content with this answer.

“Ah, I see,” you slowly nod. “That’s not what interested you.”

“Nothing gets past you, does it?”

He doesn’t feel too embarrassed when you smile like this at him. Maybe his sad puppy eyes come in handy…

“Now that I caught you red-handed I won’t feel bad telling you something like this -” You smirked, “Don’t be upset, but you don’t look like a guy who likes pizza.”

You would think, huh?

“That’s a bit judgmental,” Hiromi says with unusual sensitivity in his voice that immediately puts you in defensive mode.

“Oh, no! I’m sorry!” You raise your hand in apologetic gesture. “It’s just”—you eye him up and down—“I don’t know, I guess it’s the suit. It makes you look…”

“Pompous?” he slips watching you struggle to find the right word.

“No!” you quickly deny. Too quickly. “I mean… well, kinda.” You gave up.

“Ouch.”

Hiromi has never heard you giggle before, but he could definitely get used to it. He couldn’t explain the phenomenon that makes him seek for your reaction - any reactions, really - but the idea of closing the doors right now and not getting more out of you seemed awful.

“Do you ever take it off?” you ask pointing at his loosened tie and wrinkled dress shirt.

I could for you, he thinks to his own surprise.

“Well, I was waiting for the pizza,” he reminds.

“Right. Can’t collect your order in pyjamas.” And you laugh again, which causes a rush of heat in his belly and bellow. Cursed thoughts suddenly take him to very inappropriate places where you tell him about the band printed on your hoodie as you take it off. He wonders what color of bra you wear. The white one would suit you - in his modest opinion.

“You weren’t wrong though.” He breaks himself out of the trance. “I don’t like pizza." After all the orders he made for the past few weeks.

You blink at his words, definitely not as surprised as he thought you were going to be. In fact, your reaction tells him that you knew and have played along this entire time.

“Then why did you order so many of them?” you ask, a soft smile forming on your lips.

“I was ordering you,” he finds himself saying. The moment the first word left his lips, Hiromi felt in his guts it was a bad idea, but the rest of the sentence left his lips anyway, leaving sweet-sour flavor on the top of his tongue.

He watches your eyes widen for a second, and your lips part - then close - then open again as you try to say something back, but your mind can’t find the right words.

Well, this is it then…

A lonely “oh” slips quietly out of your mouth.

Oh?

“Well, you are my last stop today.” Your rosy cheeks rise up as you smile. “Why don’t you invite me in?”

For a moment the world stops.

“Are you sure?” The lower parts of Hiromi call him an idiot, but the lower parts have never been in charge. Biting his tongue wasn’t an option.

Sudden embarrassment takes over as you look sideways and as both of you wonder about the simple “should I or should I not?” You smile and Hiromi smiles as well.

“Do you think my boss can sue me once he finds out that I’ve made him lose a regular customer?” You break the silence. Hiromi watches at the corners of your lips twitch, then raises his eyes at yours.

“Why do you assume I won’t order any more pizza in the future?” You shrug.

“Why would you if you can just call me instead?”

“So you can have nice break at work,” he answers. This is enough to make you burst out laughing.

“I see you've thought everything through carefully.”

“I only try to keep you here as long as I can.”

You make a step towards him, standing on the threshold. Much, much, much closer than usually. Hiromi could smell your perfume, but he mostly focuses on the soft smile you give him.

“Well, can’t deny it isn’t working. Lemme in,” you whisper, fidgeting with the collar of his dress shirt as you speak.

Once Hiromi opens the doors wide for you to come in and you cross the threshold, letting the pizza box fall on the ground, making you giggle again. Hiromi presses you against the doors, his hands finally on your waists, fingers tightened to feel you under the fabric of hoodie.

You are the one who closes the gap between your lips. Your smell stupefies Hiromi as you kiss him without hesitation, shamelessly penetrating his mouth with your tongue. Your fingers slide right under his collar, slowly moving around his nape, tickling his skin and sending shivers down his spine. Hiromi feels dizzy from the excess of stimuli.

“Tell me about this band,” he says once you two break away to catch a breath.

“I know only one song…” you mutter, too focused on undoing buttons of his dress shirt to give the song name. “It was an accident. I spotted the hoodie on the sale. L—Liked the color. Later found out it’s them,” you babble.

The feeling of your fingers exploring his bare chest and belly is blend of disconcerting relief and irritation. He waited for this moment for so long that now, when he finally has you, the touch of fingers isn’t enough to meet his expectations.

You place a kiss on his chin but before you can reach higher, Hiromi’s mouth is on your neck. One hand wraps around your waists, pulling you closer to him, yet still not close enough in his opinion. He wishes he could absorb you. He wants to feel the heat coming from your skin and your heartbeat quickening.

The other hand finds your buttcheek and squeezes it hard. The moan that escapes your lips is like long-awaited music in his ear. Hiromi can’t help himself and bites your earlobe to get more reactions out of you. And when that stops being enough, he starts sucking your neck and giving you hickeys while his hands roam freely all over your body, finding their way under the hoodie.

Considering how your fingers have made big mess out of his haircut and how now they dig deep into his shoulders, he assumes he's doing a good job so far.

“These damn legs of yours,” he mumbles into your ear while lifting you up so you could wrap your legs around him.

Hiromi carries you to the couch where he takes off your hoodie together with the work uniform underneath it. Your sports bra is black, and nicely molds itself to your breasts. He can see your perky nipples through the fabric at which his erection grows larger.

You pull him towards you by tugging on his tie. Very soon your bra ends up on the floor as well when Hiromi places himself above you. The way he cups his hands around your breasts, squeezing your nipples between his thumbs and index fingers, puts your dirty needs to another level.

“I’ve been waited for so long to feel them,” Hiromi whispers right before your face, a hair's length away from touching your lips. His voice is so quiet you have a problem hearing him. “You’re blushing,” he notices, making you look away and mutter an embarrassed “shatap”.

“Better hurry up and suck them,” you pout at him, you have hard time talking at this point, your throat dry and voice distorted by hoarseness.

Hiromi’s smirk gets bigger.

“It’s nice to know you want it as bad as I do,” he says before leaning over.

DING DONG.

Hiromi opens his eyes. At first he doesn’t even recognize his own apartment, the view from the couch is downright unrealistic. With his swollen eyes he looks for any sign of yours presence, because even if he knows you weren’t here, his mind doesn’t want to give up. Not yet. He can’t help it, his professional tendency to hope for the best and be ready for the worst speaks through him.

But the longer he stares at his empty apartment and the longer he can’t find any part of the clothes that he just took off of you, the more and more the disappointing reality seeps through his mind.

Ding dong…

Oh, right - the doorbell. He looks at the door, then at the bulge in his pants, sighing at the bitter unfinished business. What one pizza delivery girl can do to a man who doesn’t even like pizza…

He slowly gets up, massaging his sore nape that the couch header have gave him as he approaches the door. A doubtful thought on the back on his head whispers to him that he may see you behind it - with your high-tied ponytail, a hoodie and unearthly legs - and that his dream have been prelude to the main event.

Hiromi opens the door and sees the most average looking stranger.

Yeah, he thinks, taking the pizza and mumbling thanks, life isn’t that pretty, is it? He doesn't think about covering himself or even feel embarrassed about it. There’s just pure disappointed in his heart and an annoying tightness in his boxers.

He closes the door. What a shame it wasn’t you.

there is a possibility that a second part will be written. thanks for reading!

#jujutsu kaisen fic #jjk smut #jjk x y/n #jjk higuruma #jjk hiromi #jjk higuruma x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #higuruma x reader #hiromi higuruma

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