#haven’t posted one from the gym in a while

[joelsgreys]

strawberry

Daddy Dom! Joel Miller x Sub! Female Reader

summary: You feel ashamed for using your safe word with Joel during a session—he assures you you’re his good girl no matter what.

warnings/tags: 18+ only, MINORS DNI. (TW) daddy kink, lots of dd/lg lifestyle elements, reader is collared (day collar) age gap that is self indulgent, reader is mid to late 20’s and Joel is in his 50’s but tweak that to your imaginations if you like. SMUT; p in v sex, rough sex (that reader asks to try), spanking, possible overstimulation (if you squint??) Joel basically fucks reader too much and too hard. USE OF SAFE WORD. aftercare and lots of fluff, references to a pop culture film that i haven’t seen in forever but it’s fine. PLEASE BE MINDFUL OF TAGS AND WARNINGS. if this isn’t your thing, no worries just scroll on by.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION.

word count: 2.4k

a/n: this is totally self indulgent, all for me as someone who has dabbled in the lifestyle before. if this is not your thing, no problem at all but kindly keep any negative comments to yourself. huge shoutout to the lovely @swiftispunk for inspiring this with the snippets of her own upcoming series that i am oh so excited for, darling han thank you for not only inspiring this, but for listening to me talk about it and encouraging it! and also to sweet mya @cavillscurls because truth be told her own fic brought back so many memories of a time in my life where i was genuinely so happy, in love, and felt safe with a partner. okay, i am gonna run away to the gym now to listen to 1989 tv (again) and pretend posting this is not nerve wracking as hell.

He’s fucked you plenty of times before.

But never like this. No, never, ever like this.

He’s relentless.

His thrusts are coming quicker, sloppier, harsher.

It doesn’t hurt, but it’s intense. Too intense.

Joel Miller is truly testing your limits tonight.

No, he was pushing you past your limits.

Because that’s what you’d asked him to do.

“Alright, sweet girl. This is the last time I’m gonna ask you before we get started. Are you absolutely, one hundred—no, one thousand percent sure that you wanna try this out tonight?” he had asked you beforehand, skimming the strap of your light pink, lace lingerie with his index finger, his feathery soft touch sending a plesant little chill down the length of your spinal column. Of all the sets you owned, it had to be Joel’s absolute favorite. Normally, it was him who would pick out what you would wear, but tonight he’d decided to let you choose for yourself and oh, you did not disappoint. He fucking adored you in the color pink; loved how sickeningly sweet, precious, and innocent you appeared in the hue as you did the filthiest things to him, with him. When you nodded eagerly in reply to his question, a sigh fell from his lips, the doubt written all over his face as he remarked, “I really don’t think you’re ready. I think we should wait just a little a while longer.”

“I’m ready,” you’d insisted, stubbornly. “I promise. I wouldn’t be asking for it if I thought I wasn’t. But I am, I promise, promise, promise I am.”

“Daddy knows what’s best for you, sweetheart—”

Fingers curled around his bicep, you’d batted your eyelashes, giving him those eyes that brought him down to his knees for you a lot more often than he cared to admit, those eyes that made Joel feel like he was learning his role all over again, despite over two decades of experience under his belt. He used to pride himself for his ability to stand firm against pouting lips, fluttering lashes, and pleading gazes. And then you come along and suddenly it’s like he is in his thirties again and he’s navigating this kind of dynamic for the first time. Even after a year and a half with you, he’s still trying to figure out how to completely unwrap himself from your little finger.

“Please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

Christ, you made things so goddamn difficult.

“You really think you’re gonna be able to handle it? You think you’re gonna be able to handle me when I get real rough with you, baby? Hm?”

Without missing a beat, you replied, “Yes, Daddy. I can handle it. I know I can.”

You had been so certain that you could.

Confident, even. So confident that when he began going over the rules and reminded you to use your safe word if you needed him to stop, you’d giggled and stated, “I’ve never needed to use it before and I don’t plan on using it tonight.”

Oh, how very wrong you had been about it all.

You’d overestimated yourself, and underestimated Joel. Severely.

His hips snap roughly into yours without an ounce of mercy, over and over, again and again. Beads of perspiration start trailing their way down the sides of his face, the tip of his nose. His chest is flushed, red, and also slicked with a thin sheen of sweat.

You’ve already shattered, unraveled, come undone all over his cock several times—every time with his granted permission, of course. Because you knew better than to come without Daddy’s permission.

Your cunt is swollen, sensitive, too sensitive and at a point where it could start aching if he doesn’t let up soon. However, it seems like Joel’s only getting rougher and rougher as he chases another release.

“Joel—Daddy,” you manage to correct yourself at the very last second through a slew of frantic little gasps for air. “Daddy, please! Daddy please—”

His large hand tightens around both of your wrists pinned to the mattress above your head. Surely he must think you’re begging him for more, when the reality is you’re about to start begging him to stop because it’s just too much and you can’t handle it; but there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to stop, the part of you that doesn’t want to disappoint the man who means the whole, entire world to you.

The man you belonged to, the man you loved.

Even through the haze, you try telling yourself that it’s all mind over matter, mind over matter, mind—

“Stop,” you whine, squirming underneath him. “I—can’t take it anymore, Daddy, I can’t take it—!”

Releasing your wrists, Joel pulls himself out of you and you breathe out in relief, until he flips you over onto your stomach without warning. You let out an audibly loud gasp when his hands reach down and take your hips, pulling them up off his bed, putting you on your hands and knees. He brings down one of his hands on your ass in a stinging slap. “That is just too bad, ‘cause Daddy ain’t done with you yet, darlin’ girl. Not even close to bein’ done with you.” Wrapping his other hand around his base, he grins to himself as he glides the head of his cock up and down your slick folds. When it grazes your clit, you jerk forward, away from him, and he tuts, bringing you back to him, his fingers digging into the pillow soft flesh of your hips. “Oh no baby, you ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

“But Daddy, I just can’t—”

You’re cut off by your own cry when you feel Joel’s length stretching your walls all over again. It’s just too much.

And you really, really can’t.

He leans over you and presses his lips to your ear. “You asked for this, didn’tcha? Asked to be fucked like a big girl, huh?” He bucks forward into you, eliciting another strangled cry followed by a string of pathetic whimpers. Bringing his palm down in a second strike, he demands, “Answer me when I’m takin’ to you. You wanted this, said that you could handle Daddy bein’ rough with you, ain’t that right now?”

“Strawberry.” You say the word so quietly, you can hardly hear it over the ringing in your ears.

Joel spanks you for a third time, in the exact same spot—so hard, there was simply no way you would wake up without a mark in the morning. “I need’ya to speak up. You’re such a big girl after all—”

“Strawberry!” You grasp fistfuls of bedsheets and the signal for it all to end tears itself from the back of your throat. “Strawberry, Joel! Strawberry!”

It’s only a millisecond that he freezes, if that.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Joel curses under his breath, pulling out of you. The bed shifts as he climbs off of it and scrambles to pull on his sweatpants before he’s at your side—you’re still on your hands and knees, an unmistakable look of panic on your face. He puts a gentle hand on your back. “Baby, are you alright?”

Your heart is pounding, your breathing labored but you manage a small, tight nod of your head. “I-I’m fine. I just—” Stopping, you grip the sheets tighter, warm tears brimming your eyes. Shame over what you’ve just done is already creeping in and sinking into your bones.

“Are you hurt, sweetheart? Did I hurt you?”

Joel’s voice is calm, but you can hear the concern that laces his tone.

“No.” Your own voice is small. “No. You didn’t hurt me.”

“Is it alright if I move you?” he asks. When you nod your head, he reaches out for you and helps you to sit on the side of the bed. Dropping to his knees in front of you, he takes your hands and his and feels his stomach sink when he realizes they’re ice cold; he begins rubbing them between his own to warm them up. “Baby if I hurt you, you need to tell m—”

“I promise, you didn’t hurt me,” you reassure him, swallowing the thickness rising in the back of your throat. You clock the skepticism in his dark brown eyes and a tear slips out, rolls down your face, and splatters onto your bare thigh. “I’m not lying, Joel. I swear.” Tugging one of your hands out of his, you reach up and instinctively clasp it around the blue sapphire pendant hanging from the delicate, gold chain around your neck—he’d presented you with his birthstone last year, not only as a symbol of his ownership of you, but also as a beautiful reminder of your commitment to one another. “You believe me, don’t you? You believe I’m telling the truth?”

Joel’s expression softens. “‘Course I do, baby.” He cups the side of your face gently, brushing away a second teardrop with his thumb. “But I’d really like to know what happened so I can figure out how to best help, okay? Can you tell me what happened?”

Embarrassed, you try turning your head away, but he holds your cheek in his hand, gentle but firm.

“S’okay. You can talk to me,” he encourages softly, his gaze meeting yours once again. “Tell me.”

“It was just too much,” you mumble, meekly. “And too intense.” Heat floods your face as you admit to him, “You were right. I just wasn’t—I wasn’t ready for that yet.”

In an effort to lighten your mood, Joel lightly gives your cheek a delicate pinch and chuckles.

“Daddy’s got that real annoyin’ habit of bein’ right ‘bout a lot of things, don’t he?”

“I’m sorry.” Your bottom lip quivers. “I’m so sorry.”

His smile falters. “Sorry for what?”

“For using the safe word—”

Joel’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Y’know you ain’t supposed to apologize for needin’ to use your safe word, right? That ain’t how it works, darlin’.”

Dropping your necklace, you place your hand over his on your cheek. “But I feel bad,” you confess. “It makes me feel like—like I let you down, you know? And that’s the last thing I want to do. I just wanted to be really good for you.”

“Oh baby.” Joel lifts himself from the floor. He sits on the bed and pulls you onto his lap, brushing his lips against your temple. “You are such a good girl for me, sweetheart.”

“But I couldn’t take it,” you sniff. “I had to stop.”

“And that’s okay,” he assures you. He wraps you in his arms and gives your body a gentle squeeze. “It ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed ‘bout. You’re still really new to a lot of this stuff, y’know? S’why I told you I didn’t think you were ready.”

“I should’ve listened to you.”

He winks. “You should always listen to Daddy.”

You offer him a tiny, watery smile. “I know.”

“And say we try this again one day and it’s just not somethin’ you like or that makes you feel good—or maybe you never wanna try it again at all,” he says with a nonchalant shrug. “That’s okay too. You are still my good girl no matter what—my perfect girl. Always. You understand me?”

“Really? You promise?”

Joel holds up his pinky.

“Oh, you’re being really serious,” you tease him.

“Sure as hell am, darlin’.”

You lock your finger around his and he pulls you in for a sweet kiss.

“I love you, Joel,” you murmur against his lips. You giggle again when he clears his throat and smacks your ass lightly, playfully. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too, baby.” Joel pulls away and touches the tip of his nose to yours. “How’s ‘bout we get in the bath and get all cleaned up? Hm?”

“A bath?” You instantly perk up. “With bubbles?”

“With bubbles. And I’ll even let you throw in one of those smelly ball things you fuckin’ love so much.”

You swat at his chest. “Hey! My bath bombs smell really good, thank you very much!”

Joel doesn’t particularly like emerging from a bath smelling like a petunia, but for you, he’s more than happy to bathe in a sea of them, glitter and all.

You trace his collarbone with your index finger.

“Daddy? After our bath can we just cuddle in bed? Maybe watch a movie?” He raises an eyebrow and you smile sheepishly, adding, “Please?”

“‘Course. Pick any movie you want, sweetheart.”

“And can we have ice cream while we watch too?”

He pins you with a stern look. “Alright, now you’re just pushin’ it and takin’ advantage.”

You jut your lower lip. “Please, Daddy?”

There’s no arguing with that, not tonight.

Joel decides to let you have your way. “Alright.”

The two of you spend quite some time in the bath; normally a bath together ends with him inside you all over again, but tonight, all he’s doing is running a soapy wash cloth with your favorite shower gel—japanese cherry blossom—all over your body as he sits behind you, lips pressed against your ear. Joel washes you slowly, carefully, and all the while he’s whispering sweet, tender praise.

My good girl.

My perfect girl.

I’m s’proud of you.

I’m the luckiest man in the whole world.

After the bath, once you’re both dried and dressed in comfortable clothes—him in a clean pair of gray sweatpants and you in nothing but his t-shirt, Joel gives you the remote and instructs you to pick out a movie to watch.

“Make yourself real comfortable, baby,” he says to you, kissing the top of your head. “I’ll be back with that ice cream.”

You shoot him a hopeful glance. “Strawberry?”

“You tryin’ to be funny with me, darlin’?”

“No! That’s just my favorite flavor, silly.”

Joel grins to himself as he leaves the bedroom.

He knows that. Of course he knows that.

It’s why he always keeps a pint of it in his freezer.

You hop into bed and pull the blankets around you as your scan through the guide for a movie—you’d just decided on The Notebook when Joel appears again, a bowl and two spoons in his hands.

“You picked The Notebook again, didn’t you?” he asks without even looking at the flat screen that’s mounted on his wall over the fireplace.

“You said I could pick any movie I wanted.”

“Was just hopin’ you’d pick one we haven’t seen a thousand times,” he chuckled, sliding into his bed next to you. Joel places the bowl of strawberry ice cream in his lap and hands you a spoon. “C’mere, my sweet girl. Come closer.”

You snuggle up to him, and the two of you dig into the frozen dessert as the movie begins to play.

“Baby?” Joel speaks after a while, just as Allie and Noah share a passionate kiss in the pouring rain.

“Hm?” you ask, your fixed eyes on the flat screen, your mouth full of ice cream.

“You sure you’re okay?”

Swallowing, you look up at Joel, meeting his gaze.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you answer honestly.

“‘Cause if there’s anythin’ else I can do for you…”

You purse your lips together and let out a tiny hum as you mull it over for a moment.

“You can hold me closer?” you finally suggest.

Joel shifts in his spot. “I can definitely do that—”

You stop him and point to the empty bowl.

“After you go and get us some more ice cream?”

He exhales an amused snort through his nose and shuffles out of bed, taking the bowl with him.

“Don’t get so used to bossin’ Daddy around,” Joel warns you playfully over his shoulder.

“Too late.”

divider credit to @saradika 🍓

#tw daddy kink #tw: daddy kink #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller one shot #joel miller drabble #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader

[daisynik7]

Make Me Sweat

Pairing: Aoi Todo x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Word Count: ~2.5k

cw: written with a curvy reader in mind, canon-divergent (post-Shibuya but a happy one), all characters are 18+, explicit language, smut – cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, spit play, PIV sex (cowgirl position, mating press), breeding kink, praise kink, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, baby, pretty girl, good girl), creampie 

Summary: With the start of the new year, you make it one of your resolutions to become more active. You begin at your apartment's fitness center, where you run into your muscle head, loud-mouth next-door neighbor, Aoi Todo. He offers his gratuitous advice, annoying you at first. But when he suggests a particular kind of workout, it piques your interest enough that you can't refuse.

Author’s Note: I used metric units (kg) to describe the weights. Also, I am no expert in lifting so please take all of this with a grain of salt LOL. I just know that canonically, these characters are fucking STRONG. I stopped with the tag list on this one bc technically this was a bonus fic and I wasn't sure if anyone wanted to be tagged in these. With that, please enjoy some shameless smut about our favorite JJK himbo! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

part 6 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series

When you said you wanted to start exercising more, you weren’t expecting this: being bounced up and down your next-door neighbor’s impressively huge cock. Yet, here you are, getting pounded with your ass slapping lewdly on his thighs. His big hands dig into the sides of your belly, his lips on the skin of your neck, voice gruff and husky.  “Told you, didn’t I?” 

Let’s rewind to a few hours earlier.

You haven’t been prioritizing yourself lately; your obligations during the day drain all the energy from you and your bed is always so enticing for a nap. When the new year approaches, you make it one of your resolutions to be more active. The gym in your apartment complex is finally open after being renovated the past three months and now, there’s really no excuses when the opportunity is just five floors below you. Your forego your usual nap and suit up in your favorite workout clothes, heading down the elevator to the fitness center. 

Luckily, it isn’t crowded; the only other people inside are Aoi Todo, your neighbor, and his pink-haired buddy, Yuji. They’re both at the weights section, Yuji doing squats with the barbell while Todo spots him, yelling at him encouragingly. “Come on, brother. Hold it, hold it! You got this!”

Yuji grunts, holding the deadlift for as long as possible, eventually dropping it to the floor with a loud thud. Todo claps emphatically, beaming at him. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

You smile to yourself, amused at Todo’s contagious enthusiasm. When he notices you, he gives you a nod, which you return, slightly embarrassed for being caught watching. 

Have you mentioned yet how fucking ripped he is? Today, he wears a loose tank, arm holes cut low to show off his extraordinary physique. Arms bulging with muscles, an incredibly large chest, a well-defined eight-pack. He’s built like a Spartan warrior, ready for battle, destined for victory. It’s impossible to ignore a body like his, even more impossible to ignore his eccentric attitude, which gets on your nerves when you have to listen to his noisy demeanor on the opposite side of the wall. 

The cardio section is on the other side of room, so you make your way to one of the treadmills, setting the level to a walking pace for a quick warm-up. Before you put your headphones in to listen to music, you eavesdrop of their conversation, observing them from your peripheral. 

“Good shit, brother,” Todo says, massaging his shoulders affectionately.

Yuji scratches his head, grinning. “Still got work to do to match my PR. After Shibuya, my strength hasn’t been the same.”

“You’re still the strongest fucker I know. Besides me, of course,” Todo adds, chuckling. “Spot me before you go.” 

They replace the already notable weights with what you suspect are heavier ones. Yuji whistles through his teeth. “300. You’re losing your touch, don’t you think?” he teases, nudging him in the ribs.

Todo digs into a container of powdered chalk, coating his fingers with it. “I’m taking it easy today. Don’t want to over-exert myself in case something exciting happens later.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He grabs on to the barbell, smirking. “I don’t know yet. We’ll see.” Maybe it’s your imagination, but you can almost swear that his eyes meet yours for a split second in the reflection of the mirror. 

You continue to observe as Todo easily deadlifts 300 kg, as if it weighs nothing to him, repeating this ten times without breaking a sweat.

Yuji laughs, helping him rerack. “That’s crazy.”

Todo pats his back. “You’ll get there soon, brother. Once you’re fully recovered, you’ll be lifting more than me, I’ll make sure of that.” His unwavering support is actually endearing. Sure, he can be obnoxious, but this side of him is charming. 

Unfortunately, this sentiment doesn’t last long. Once Yuji leaves, Todo decides to choose the treadmill right beside you, purposefully neglecting the surrounding unoccupied cardio machines. You’re still at a walking pace, eyeing him suspiciously as he stands there, blatantly watching you with a cocky grin. “Did you enjoy the show?”

Avoiding his gaze, staring at the console in front of you, you mutter, “Excuse me, but I’m trying to focus here.”

“Focus on what? Walking?” he scoffs, leaning on the handrail nearest to you. “You’re not going to get far if you keep going at a snail’s pace.”

You roll your eyes, finally looking at him. “So what do you suggest, Oh-Wise-One?”

It’s meant to be sarcastic, but of course, he thinks you’re genuinely asking. “You’ve got to alternate between high intensity and low intensity. Sprint for thirty seconds, then walk for a minute to cool off. Then repeat. Simple as that.”

As much as you appreciate the gratuitous advice, you’re already familiar with high intensity interval training. You’re just nervous to actually do it, not confident in your running abilities. “I’m not a good runner,” you admit. 

“I’m sure that’s not true. Come on, show me what you got.” He crosses his arms over his pecs, waiting. 

Deciding it’s better to relent to him rather than argue, you brace yourself, upping the speed so that you’re doing an easy jog. 

“You can do better than that!” he hollers, reaching for the controls to increase the level, making the track move faster and faster. You’re sprinting full speed now, lasting about thirty seconds before you swat him away, tugging at the emergency shut off cord to stop it. 

You catch your breath, glaring at him, sweat starting to bead on your forehead. "What the fuck, are you trying to kill me?!"

He’s unfazed by your outburst and oblivious to the asshole move he made. “Don’t be so dramatic. You did great. You have really nice form.”

You don’t let his compliments dissuade you from being angry at him. “You can’t just do that without any warning. I’m still getting used to all this.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “I won’t do that again.” He watches you take long sips from your water bottle, scanning your figure up and down. A coy smirk spreads across his face. "You know, if running ain't your thing, there are other workouts we can try that might suit you better."

You continue to drink, gradually regaining your composure. "Like what?"

He leans in close to you, breath hot on your ear. "Sex."

You choke on your water, using your towel to wipe the mess. Ready to give him an earful, he hops off the track, walking towards the exit. "If you want to work up a real sweat, you know where to find me. I promise to make it worth your while.”

And with that, he's gone, leaving you speechless. And intrigued. 

~~~

After dinner, you take a long shower, Todo’s unconventional suggestion replaying continuously in your mind. You’re almost certain it’s a ridiculous joke, though the more you analyze it, the less ridiculous it seems. In fact, by the time you’re drying off in front of the mirror, checking your reflection carefully, you’re seriously considering it. You’re not particularly tired from earlier, so maybe you have room for one more workout. And hey, if the offer still stands, why not take it?

You slide into a different pair of leggings, one that shows off your curves, and slip on a t-shirt, fulling prepared to exercise. In your running shoes, you walk the few steps next door and knock twice. When he doesn’t answer within the first ten seconds, panic sets in and you’re tempted to turn on your heel to retreat. Before you can, the door swings open and you’re greeted by Todo’s bare bust. He smirks, not at all surprised to see you standing in front of him. “Hey.”

Swallowing the thick saliva gathering on your tongue, you let out a meek, “Hello.” His enormous frame towers over you and you can’t help but salivate at the sight of him. You always assumed he’d be the type of guy to walk around shirtless in his apartment. Not that you’re complaining.

He beckons you inside, closing and locking the door shut behind him. “Can’t stop thinking about it, huh?”

You roll your eyes at him, cracking a smile simultaneously. “Well, it’d be rude to turn down such a generous offer, right?”

He lets out a small laugh, stepping towards you, gripping at your hips to pull you into him. “I knew you were a smart girl.”

You’ve severely underestimated how much bigger he is than you until this moment, as you peer up at him eagerly. “Todo.”

He bows his head down, mouth grazing your ear. “Aoi.”

“Aoi,” you repeat, breath hitching. 

“Good girl,” he praises, making you shudder with anticipation. “Tell me exactly what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

You paw at his chest, admiring his sculpted muscles, pressing your fingers into them without even making a dent. “I want you to give me that workout you promised me.”

“Yeah?” he croons, his noticeable erection strained in his sweatpants. “You want this fat fucking cock, don’t you?”

He’s as vulgar as you imagined he’d be and it only spurs you on. You link your arms around his neck, on your tippy-toes to meet him for a kiss. Instead, he hoists you up, holding you with his hands below your ass, your legs wrapped around his waist. His boner throbs as you buck your hips on him, desperate for friction on your aching clit. “You feel it, don’t you?” he purrs, grinding you against him. “That’s all for you.”

He carries you into the bedroom, kissing you sloppily with his massive tongue invading your mouth. When he can’t take it anymore, he tosses you onto the mattress, stripping his clothes off swiftly, you doing the same. He crawls on top of you, ogling your naked body, a lustful gleam in his expression. “You’re so fucking hot.”

“You’re so fucking big,” you blurt out in response, not knowing a better word to describe him. Because everywhere you look, Aoi Todo is big. Big biceps, a tremendous torso, a huge fucking cock ready to fill you the fuck up. You spread your legs open for him, practically begging for him to fuck you. 

“Look at this perfect pussy,” he coos, face inching closer to your cunt. He hocks a thick wad of spit directly onto your clit, smearing it with his tongue. “So wet for me.”

You squirm beneath him, unable to control yourself. “Fuck, Aoi,” you swear, toes already curling from the sensation. 

“I’m going to make you come first. Make this pussy extra creamy for my dick. Is that okay, sweetheart?” He massages circles into your clit with his thumb, looking up at you from between your thighs. 

“Yes,” you whine, trembling with arousal.  

“Good girl,” he says again, and you realize how fucking sexy it is when he praises you like this. “Can I finger you too?” 

“Oh god, yes,” you moan, growing impatient, needy for whatever he’s willing to offer you. 

With his lips latched to your clit, he teases your entrance with his middle finger, slowly sliding deeper until he bottoms out. He adds another digit, pumping inside you while he sucks on your bud, tongue swirling around it. You rock your hips against his face, greedy for more. Todo hums, encouraging you, the vibrations spurring you on until it’s too much. You come for him after a few more strokes, gushing all over his face. You reach down to grab his hair, trying to pry him off you, but he’s obviously way stronger and more resilient. “One more,” he muffles, chin shiny with your slick, his tongue flicking your clit. “For me.” He flashes you a cocky smirk that makes him even more impossible to deny.

You throw your head back into the pillows, staring up at the ceiling, hazy-eyed from the pleasure. The squelch of his fingers in and out of your wet cunt is obscene, combined with the shameless moans pouring out of you. After your second climax, or maybe it’s the third (you’ve lost count), he finally eases off you, slurping his digits clean to swallow up your juices. “You’re doing so good for me, pretty girl.” He strokes his cock in his fist, tapping the glistening head on your swollen clit. “It’s going to feel fucking amazing.”

You hum, the only response you can muster in this fucked-out state. 

“How do you want it, sweetie?” He lifts you off the bed, having you straddle his lap. “You want to ride me?” 

You nod, resting your head on his shoulder, yearning for anything. “Yes.”

“Fuck yeah,” he growls, slapping your ass before guiding his cock into your slippery cunt. You gasp, astonished by the extraordinary girth of him filling you up to the hilt. “You’re swallowing me up.” He spreads your cheeks apart, squeezing your ass in his grip. “That’s my girl.”

You gaze at him, pressing your forehead to his, sticky with sweat. “Fuck me,” you whimper, kissing him fiercely, completely enraptured by him.

He does, bouncing you on his lap, hitting your sweet spot over and over until you’re unraveling for him once more. “Told you, didn’t I? Told you I’d make it worth your while.”

Whatever semblance of rationale you had is gone. All you can think of is Todo’s manhandling you like a fucking rag doll, pliable and yielding to his every touch. Before you reconsider it, you spout the words, “Breed me,” wishing nothing more but to have his hot load leaking out of your cunt.

As if he wasn’t already feral enough, he most certainly is now, planting his feet on the bed to fuck up into you faster and harder. “That’s what you really want? You want my fucking seed in you? Oh fuck. I’ll give it to you, then. I’ll give it to you so fucking good.”

It happens quickly; you’re on your back again, folded nearly in half, knees to your chest, Todo fucking you in a mating press like his goddamn life depends on it. The mattress creaks noisily with each savage thrust he delivers. Sweat drips from his face onto yours as you kiss each other passionately, his massive body surrounding you as he floods your womb with his cum. “Fuck, milk it all out of me baby. That’s it. That’s my girl.”

You stay like this for a moment, allowing yourselves to catch you breaths and cool down. This really was a workout. Todo takes his time, reluctantly pulling out and watching his cum ooze out of you. 

“I can’t believe we did that,” you sigh, hiding your face in the pillow.

He gets comfortable beside you, giving you a smooch on the forehead. “Honestly, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

“Really?” You look at him, cupping his cheek gently, wiping the perspiration off his brow with your thumb. 

He smiles, nuzzling into your palm. “Yeah.”

“Then maybe we should make this a regular thing,” you suggest as you snuggle into his arms. 

“Sounds like a plan to me,” he agrees, embracing you.

And just like that, you have yourself a new and very, very personal trainer. 

#todo aoi #todo x reader #todo jjk #todo smut #todo aoi x reader #todo aoi smut #aoi todo #aoi todo x reader #aoi todo smut #aoi todo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #to all the boys who live next door #todo x you

[inuyashaluver]

can you do one where Leah and reader had an argument and they are sort of into each other until reader gets injured and then just some fluffy fluff please xx

just as bad as each other - leah williamson

leah williamson x reader

description: in which you and your best friend are just as bad as each other, from your stubbornness, all the way to your infatuation for one another

warnings: swearing, mentions of arguing and injury

a/n: i eat this shit up! thank you for the request, love, please enjoy! ❤️ i won’t lie, i hate this a bit but i’m forcing myself to post it

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your best friend, leah were very much oblivious to the fact that you both loved each other. moving up through the ranks in england and arsenal together had you closer than ever for the majority of your lives.

you both knew each other better than yourselves, coming as a great shock to anyone that the two of you haven’t professed your love to each other.

you and leah got on like twin flames, soulmates even. you had the same values, passions, aspirations, music, the whole works, and unfortunately for anyone that knew the both of you, you were both extremely stubborn, just as bad as each other.

you moved in together a while ago, one of the only reasons your families let you play football in london together at such a young age all those years back. the time together only strengthening the affection you had for one another.

—

instances of both of you being stubborn weren’t exactly hard to miss, almost an everyday occurrence for the both of you.

one day, you had a little cold and leah picked up on it before you even started to show obvious symptoms.

it all started with a little sniffle before leah began to nag you to sit down and recover but you refused.

“(y/n) (y/l/n)” leah starts as you walk into the kitchen fully dressed in your training kit, “I really hope you’re joking” leah crosses her arms over her chest as you grab a protein shake from the fridge.

“what’s there to joke about, leah williamson?” you mock, sniffing a little before standing on the other side of the kitchen counter to look at her.

“go back to bed, now” she says sternly, her eyes narrowing at the cheeky glint in your eyes.

“why ever would I need to go back to bed?” you smile, attempting really hard not to cough.

“because you’re sick?” leah says simply, standing up from her seat and walking around to stand in front of you.

“I am not sick!” you exclaim, a little cough managing to escape the back of your throat from the volume. leah has an accomplished smile on her face when she hears it, raising her eyebrow teasingly as she looks down at you.

“you sure about that?” leah grins, you nod, pinching her cheek and running off back to your room to grab your bag before she could yell at you again.

throughout the entire car ride, leah nagged you about your stubbornness, threatening to get you benched for a while or even sending you back home to your family until you were better. you ignored her of course, insisting you were fine and feeling better than ever.

though, when you got to training, your condition seemingly got worse and leah shook her head when she saw you coughing and sneezing.

“how’d you let her come here?” beth coos to leah, rubbing her hand on your back as you lay on the floor of the gym, red nosed with a pounding headache.

“she’s not sick, huh, love?” leah places a hand on your back, to stand your ground, you sit up suddenly and look at leah with a glare.

“yeah, beth, i’m not sick, just allergies” you defend, swatting both pairs of hands away and moving towards katie on the treadmill. and of course, you were in a weakened state and managed to run for two minutes before you had to get off, lying back on the floor with an exhausted sigh.

“not sick, my ass” leah mutters under her breath, immediately walking over to you and kneeling down to look at you better.

“i’m fine” you breathe out, “you’re sick, i’m taking you home” leah asserts, grabbing your hand to pull you up but you refused. “leah, no!” you groan, attempting to loosen the grip of her hand but she wouldn’t relent, she huffs out a frustrated sigh.

“get up, please” leah tries to pull you up off the floor again and you throw her an icy glare, she can see your younger self shine through you at moments like this, you never change, it was honestly amusing.

“leah, i’m. not. sick.” you break down the words, “i’m not stupid” leah says simply, “i’m not getting up, leah” you taunt, the team snickers around you, both of you only used first names when in trouble or when you were truly angry with each other.

“you are so fucking stubborn, (y/n)” leah shakes her head, closing her eyes for a moment before hoisting you up in her arms.

you immediately protest, trying to wiggle out of her grasp but quickly stopping at the look she gave you, rolling your eyes and pouting as she carried you to the car.

“now you sit here while i get your stuff” leah warns, face softening a little at your sad nod before she closed the door.

“i’m taking her home” leah announces to the gym, gaining a few cheeky grins and teasing noises from the team.

“you two are made for each other” lia smiles brightly with beth, leah’s cheeks go a little pink before she looks down, waving them off before sprinting to the change room.

she quickly gathered both of your belongings and ran out to the car, looking over at you every couple of seconds while you looked out the window, little sniffles not being hidden anymore after your little dispute.

when you reached home, leah pushes you down to rest on the couch, making you take your medicine before she goes to get you something to eat. you look like a kicked puppy and it made leah’s heart break a little, maybe she was being too hard on you.

she comes back 20 minutes later with soup because you both knew you were the cook out of the two of you, when she got back, you pulled her into a hug.

her eyes widen a little in surprise, hugging you back without any hesitation, her hands rubbing soothingly over your back as you cuddled into her.

“i’m sorry, lee” you mumble against her shoulder, leah smiles a little, “it’s okay, love, i’m sorry too” you hug her for a little longer before sitting down in front of her. she smiles softly at you, moving a stray piece of hair behind your ear before placing her hand on your thigh.

your cheeks turn rosy as you look up at her, leah’s breath hitched in the back of her throat for a moment when she saw how you were looking at her. “sleep” leah clears her throat, letting you rest your head on her thigh before you promptly dozed off.

—

in contrast to that stubbornness, you both truly had so much love for each other. it was painfully obvious that you saw each other as more than a friend.

when leah returned to the england team after her acl recovery, you were both extremely excited. it was always your dream to play together in england and finally getting that back after so long was something to treasure for the both of you.

after a particular match, leah was being interviewed by alex scott on the side of the pitch and you just couldn’t resist teasing her.

“ahh! leah williamson!” you scream like an excited fan girl, alex laughs immediately at how red leah got, pinching her nose bridge as you walked up next to her, laughing at how embarrassed she was.

“here we have ms (y/l/n) in the flesh after a fantastic performance” alex grins cheekily at you, you sling an arm around leah’s waist and on instinct hers goes around your shoulder.

“no no, i’m just leah williamson’s number one fan who managed to get on the pitch after I dodged security” you laugh at leah’s little glare she sent you, alex laughs at the two of you, knowing how at least one of you felt about the other, she didn’t miss leah’s pink cheeks.

alex turns the interview on you and leah watches you intently, her eyes focusing on you the entire time you spoke, a soft smile evident on her face.

leah gets asked a question but didn’t answer, focused on you and missing it completely, you bump leah’s hip with your own and she scrambles to answer, you giggle as alex teases her for being distracted.

you get called over by alessia and ella and before you leave, you throw alex a wink, “can I nominate her as player of the match?” you say cheekily, leah rolls her eyes and shoves you away gently, “okay, bye” leah laughs, you blow her an exaggerated air kiss and she grins, watching you walk away before getting back to the interview.

the moment got edited and reposted on almost every social media platform and you had to admit that you rewatched it a couple of times just to see the way leah was looking at you with all the love in the world.

—

though, unfortunately for you, what resulted in you and leah’s relationship fast tracking was you being injured and a massive argument between the two of you.

it was during a match for arsenal, the defence was all over you trying to rile you up and it was working. you were getting angry, tackling and running in ways that leah wincing.

she always scolded you to be careful during matches, after her own acl injury, her worst fear was you getting one as well.

thankfully, you went down with a hamstring injury, leah running to you immediately when you fell to the ground.

“love” she breathes out, you look up at leah tearfully, “hamstring” you wince, leah lets out a little sigh of relief, holding your hand tightly as you waited for the medics.

“i’ll be with you as quick as I can” leah kisses the top of your head before you got carried off to the physio room and the match ended shortly after.

leah sprinted to where you were as soon as it was over, pushing the door open with a scowl.

“what were you thinking?” leah looks at you sternly, you immediately sigh, making yourself as small as possible, you knew you’d get scolded.

“(y/n) that was so stupid, you’re being reckless giving into them like that, you’re giving them what they want” leah scolds, you nod along with her words, her words were bitter but you know they were just concerned but you were extremely pumped up on adrenaline.

“they were fucking targeting me, leah! what do you want me to do?” you exclaim, her eyes widen a little at your volume, you two rarely fought.

“I want you to stop being stupid and risking an injury like that!” leah spits out, you throw your head back in frustration, “leah, they fucking targeted me and then you don’t expect me to retaliate?” you try to reason but she’s not having it.

she stands directly in front of you, you sit on the bench as she looks down at you with her arms crossed over her chest.

“I know they targeted you!” leah starts, “you’re better than them and they can’t handle it, but just because you’re frustrated doesn’t mean you can get sloppy!” she argues,

“what would’ve happened if it was more serious? huh? you’re fucking lucky it wasn’t your acl, (y/n), I swear to god, why are you being so stubborn about this?” she grits out,

“okay, but it wasn’t, leah, it’s my stupid hamstring!” you yell, pointing at your leg, “i’m fucking sitting here injured and you’re going off at me, you’re the stubborn one!” you say in disbelief, leah’s eyes widen, she attempts to speak but you interrupt her.

“I get it, i’m stupid and reckless! I don’t know why you care so much!” you roll your eyes, “I care because I fucking love you!” leah exclaims, both of you look at each other in shock.

your hearts were beating so fast, you swore you could hear the other’s out loud. beat. beat. beat. “what?” you utter, she covers her face with her hands for a moment before looking at you.

“I love you” she swallows, “more than anyone” she says shakily, you look up at her tearfully, she can’t believe this is the way she’s confessing to you. “I love you, lee, more than anyone” you parrot, she shakes her head with a gentle smile.

“you know how much I care about you, yeah?” leah says softly, moving to sit next to you, “yeah, you just yelled it to me” you say cheekily, leah chuckles, “sorry” she smiles, grabbing one of your hands and holding it tightly. “me too” you grin, scooting forward a little so you were closer to her.

her eyes take in your appearance before falling to your injured leg, bandaged, iced and breaking her heart, she frowns as she looks at it. you follow her gaze and lift a hand up to her chin to direct her eyes to yours again, “i’m fine, i promise” you say earnestly, leah nods, pulling you into a little hug.

when she pulls away, her eyes flicker to your lips and you grin at her cheekily, “kiss me better, williamson?” you cock your head to the side and she chuckles, nodding as she ghosts her lips over yours, “sure, baby” she whispers, pulling you into a sweet kiss that had you feeling dizzy.

—

when you and leah finally started dating, you wanted to keep it quiet for a little bit but leah williamson doesn’t do quiet.

you were found out by accident when leah couldn’t keep her hands off you in the change room before training, discovered by a screaming beth while leah kissed you passionately as you were perched up on her lap.

“no way!” beth exclaims, you hide your face in leah’s neck and she laughs as beth runs out of the room to tell everyone what she saw, “I told you this would happen but you’re too stubborn” you grumble,

“nah, baby, no one’s coming” you mock leah’s voice “you lied to me!” you laugh, she scoffs, pinching your hip warningly as you ramble about how annoying everyone was going to be now.

“oh, my poor baby” leah coos mockingly, giggling before kissing you gently as you sulked, “it’s not funny” you whine, your own smile playing at the corner of your lips.

“it is a bit” leah grins, kissing you on the lips again while you fight your smile, trying to be stern with her, failing when she kisses you again and you melt into it.

it lasted for a couple of seconds until the entire team bursts into the room, a couple of your england teammates on facetime with some other teammates to tell them the news.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill - just pretend it’s you!! ily veen ❤️

liked by bethmead_ and 44,232 others

leahwilliamsonn: the kid’s alright 😉

view all comments

yourname: you’re alright 😉

↳ leahwilliamsonn: baby girl!

bethmead_: you both disgust me

↳ leahwilliamsonn: i’ll make sure to make out with my pretty girl in front of you xx

↳ yourname: i’m down

↳ leahwilliamsonn: me + you in beth’s cubby?

↳ bethmead_: oh god please no

↳ vivannemiedema: leave them beth

↳ yourname: hah!

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader

[ventismacchiato]

stuck with you — windblume !

˗ˏˋ profiles ´ˎ˗

yn — main vocalist which makes you the most popular member. you go viral every other week for getting into petty arguments on twitter and weverse with scaramouche. should definitely learn media training because you tend to rant about him too much during lives. ‘compilations of scaramouche and yn bickering’ are super common. you’re also the only member to release a solo album which gets you guys a lot of new fans. became an idol after being a trainee for way too many years, which is why you’re salty about scara debuting so quickly when he became an idol trainee after you. [🍰]

xiao — main dancer. choreographs a lot of the dances if not all. very introverted in public but talkative in behind the scenes vlogs with his group. xiao stans have it hard because this man hardly posts anything. fans call him the dad of the group because he’s always sneaking food onto everyone’s plates and keeping them hydrated during practice. when you guys first debuted everyone thought he was mean and cold when really he’s just a quiet sweetheart. has a tattoo sleeve that the fans haven’t seen the entirety of yet, jungkook vibes in that sense. most expensive photocards after you, the one of him in cat ears and winking goes for hundreds. [🐈‍⬛]

lumine — leader of the group and one of the only responsible ones. strict about keeping everyone on schedule and trying to appear presentable at music and award shows. tries to drag you all to the gym at five in the morning but to no avail. she vlogs her gym routine and whatever member she dragged that morning is usually seen in the back sitting on a yoga ball the entire time, talking as she runs miles on the treadmill. always setting trends for workout routines and makeup looks. once it touches her face it sells out. her twin is also an idol so they both do a lot of tiktoks and videos together. it siblings. [☀️]

fischl — one of the lyricists for the group. so chronically online. she’s always active at odd hours of the night and interacting with her fans. posts the most too, so fischl biases are always full with content. wears an eyepatch as part of her idol persona, and still manages to perform with it on. will do book club livestreams where she’ll talk about her current favorite book with her fans for two hours or more. lumine has to shut the live off everytime because she will just keep yapping. [🦉]

venti — writes most of the group's songs and runs production. most unserious member and should really attend a public image class because he does not know how to be a celebrity. fans are constantly finding vapes in the back of his photos and videos of him drunk at award shows. went viral once for showing up to a music show high off his mind but still managing to perform. will dye the ends of his hair different colors every comeback from his fan’s requests. loves to go live and sing covers for whatever people ask for. he does qnas and takes the tmis too seriously. [🌱]

yoimiya — visual and vocalist, will bring out her guitar during concerts a lot. the only member who will go to the gym with lumine. became an idol because she used to busk in her hometown and got picked up by your manager while she was on vacation. would be the type of idol to adore fancalls and do decorating photocards on livestreams. gets invited to a lot of variety shows and was probably a judge for a survival show at one point. [🧨]

windblume —one of the idol groups underneath sakura entertainment,  a six member mix gendered idol group known for their whimsical and indie comebacks every year. think of txt’s brand when it comes to your guys’ style of music. have been a group for about three years. members range from 21-22. their debut album Temptation got them to their popularity today. fandom name: bloomies

stuck with you !

masterlist — next

for my nonkpop fans the emojis are their assigned ones for when people post their livestream quotes, will make more sense later 😓 and weverse is basically twitter but just for idols to interact with fans

tried not to describe yn too much because i want it to be inclusive, any photos showing yn are just to depict the pose! not gender, race, or body type 🙏

spent way too long making custom instagram templates and for what help so pls look at them xx it’s so u can visualize what these 2d mfs wud look like in this au

pls lmk in the masterlist comments if i can use ur username and make you a fan in the au!

synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!

notes — it’s my exam week so all i have to give you is profiles for now </3

taglist open for a while longer, please comment on the masterlist to be added!

taglist — @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @sheraeera @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @kitsuvil @iheartpieck @crystalcrys @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @chuuismylife @flowerypesky @creammpuff @justanothertiredreader @boxdisappeared @kissmiere @crucnhice @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @pjsucks @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @scarasmood @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @herebyaccident0 @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @vxcmx @domimiki @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @lilachasawesomehair @xxrexx

#stuck with you smau #scaramouche smau #scaramouche x reader smau #scaramouche x gender neutral reader #scaramouche x yn #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #genshin smau #scaramouche texts

[lelengerine]

now playing... "show and tell"

pairing | basketball varsity!chenle x artist!reader

synopsis | draw a pretty boy and perhaps he'll come to you.

genre | just literal 3 am fluff thoughts, bball player chenle slight brainrot, no specific prns are used (lmk if there's anything i've missed!)

wc | 0.9k

notes | so... i'm back and it's been a long while 😄 kinda forgot about tumblr for a sec but i hope you guys still remember me TT i was pretty much in a slump + acads were crazy, however!!! i am back!!! somewhat!!! likes and feedback are always appreciated (also new post layout yayy)

m.list

the air inside the school’s gymnasium has always felt humid as it clings to your skin like a damp blanket. the place has the distinct scent of sweat — entire buckets of it actually — while the occasional skid of sneakers on the rubber floor sends involuntary shivers down your spine. it’s hardly a place one would choose for peace of mind, yet here you are, perched on the bleachers, busily drawing on your sketchpad all because of a boy.

honestly, you wouldn’t be willingly subjecting yourself to this either if he wasn’t so… pretty. he sported vibrant orange hair that matched him well, the tips sticking together from the sweat on his forehead. his cheeks were flushed from from the heat, but that didn’t bother him one bit as he energetically ran around the court. but it's his smile that captivates you the most, its brightness rivaling that of the sun, his eyes forming playful whiskers as they crinkle into crescents — a sight you've translated onto the pages of your sketchbook more times than you’d like to admit.

how were you supposed to turn down drawing someone like him as an art student? one that’s in an art slump no less.

curse all pretty men, you tell yourself as your pencil scritches over the surface of your sketchbook.

you weren’t even acquainted to him one bit. in fact, you’ve only learned of his name around a week ago? it was zhong chenle if your memory serves you right.

your friend had told you he was the famous ace of your school’s basketball team, mostly for being able to make shots from such large distances. she was shocked you weren’t even aware of the boy when he was usually the talk of the entire student body, especially during the time championship season rolls around.

hell, you don’t even care much for the sport, but he’s making you second guess that too with the way he moves so effortlessly — like he was made to play this sport. perhaps you could understand the infatuation many others harbor for him… just a tiny bit.

you continue your sketch nonetheless, stuck erasing and re-drawing a certain line that doesn’t want to bend in your favor. it seems to have taken all of your focus, as you don’t even register the sound of footsteps approaching you. a tap is placed on your shoulder, and you turn around to find the exact boy you’ve been drawing for the entirety of his varsity practice.

“is that supposed to be me?” his words are laced with intrigue, accompanied by a gentler smile than you're accustomed to, yet just as captivating in its own right — wait. why is he even here talking to you? peeking at your drawings no less?

“nope. it’s not.” you lie through your teeth without an ounce of hesitation, flipping to the cover of your sketchbook faster than he utter out another word.

“please, who else even has orange hair here?”

“who said the person i was drawing was even real? for all you know, he could be an anime character.” you counter, trying to deflect his curiosity.

“yeah, totally explains why you’ve been hanging out here more lately.” he retorts, raising his finger in mock admonishment, his playful smirk betraying his teasing tone. “don’t think i haven’t noticed you, cause i have.”

“what are you? some security guard keeping records of the people who come to the gym?” you muse, meeting his gaze with a hint of amusement.

he leans in a bit closer, voice lowering conspiratorially. “well, maybe I've been keeping an eye out for someone who appreciates my... what should i call it? anime character potential?”

your heart skips a beat at his proximity, but you maintain your playful demeanor. "oh, is that what you're calling it now? i just needed a little inspiration and the confines of the art room weren’t doing it for me.” technically what you said is true, he doesn’t need to know that he’s actually the main reason your artist block has subsided.

his grin widens, a playful sparkle in his eyes. “inspiration, huh? well, i can guarantee you'll be entertained with me around.”

“you don’t need to keep me entertained, i do that already on my own.”

“oh yeah? by watching me?”

“you just want to fuel your ego, don’t you.”

“maybe a little.” his eyes smile, voice taking on a teasing lilt, "what else have you been sketching lately? any other anime characters i should know about?"

you laugh, a nervous pitter patter dancing in your chest at the prospect of sharing more of your work with him. these were your prized possessions after all. "oh, you know, just the usual. random doodles here and there."

he only beams at your response, leaning back slightly as if to better admire your reaction. "well, i’d love to see more of your usual sometime. maybe you could show me what else you've got hidden in that sketchbook of yours."

the invitation catches you off guard, and for a moment, you're at a loss for words. "uh, sure. yeah, maybe sometime," you stammer, mentally kicking yourself for not sounding more confident in front of him.

but before the conversation can continue, a shrill whistle cuts through the air, signaling the end of chenle’s supposed water break. he glances towards the court, a regretful expression flickering across his face. "looks like i’ve got to go," he says, pushing himself off the bleachers and standing up. "but hey, don't forget about our little art show-and-tell date, okay?”

hold on, did he just call it a date? "hey, wait a moment-" you try calling after him, yet he's already disappeared onto the court. that wasn’t anywhere close to a proper invitation, but your heart flutters at the thought nonetheless.

fine, you conclude to yourself — if it’s a date he wants, then you suppose you could spare some more time for him.

#nct fluff #nct dream fluff #chenle fluff #zhong chenle fluff #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #nct drabbles #nct dream drabbles

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Oh, you wanna play psycho killer? (Ghostface! Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader x Ghostface! Peter B Parker) Part 1

RAAAAA! Excited about this one! Based off this post. Inspired by this drawing from Andalusia_Lu on Tiktok. Not proofread. Tbh I’m kinda nervous about this one but…Enjoy! Also in this story MJ and Peter are just friends. This is probably the darkest think I’ve written.

(Y/N) - Your name.

NSFW!!, Cursing, use of alcohol, death, murder, yandere behavior, Reader has a bf who does die, violence, blood, said reader’s bf calls her derogatory remarks behind her back, religious imagery(I think???), stalking, male masturbation, invasion of privacy, reader being drugged, panty stealing, stalking, implied kidnapping, gore, cameras being placed in readers home without their knowledge, it’s a horror one shot so… you know what you’re walking into. Dead Dove Do not eat, MDNI!

Word count: 2.5k

Part 2

Masterlist

—

October 31st, Halloween night. Also know as the night that gives college students an excuse to get fucked up while in a shit quality costume that cost 50 bucks at spirit Halloween.

That little rule you are not exempt from, that’s how you found yourself in a random college frat party at NYU, a bottle of beer in one hand, and your boyfriend’s in the other as you drag him through the crowd so you both can dance. The alcohol in your system made your whole body relaxed and your cheeks glow with a dash of red over them, your eyes half-lidded and your smile wide as you looked up at Daniel while Promiscuous from Nelly Furtado blasted through the house. You looked like an angel straight from heaven, although that might be due to your customer, being dressed up as Juliet from the 1996 movie, while your boyfriend was clattered in armor as Romeo. The costumes being your idea after having rewatched the movie a few weeks ago.

You both had lost the rest of your group in the crowd, Jess and MJ had said they were going to the kitchen while Miguel and Peter had said they were going outside to get fresh air but you haven’t seen them since, you wouldn't have extremely worried, if it wasn’t for the reason sightings of the ghostface killer that had been popping up on the news though. Sure maybe going to a party wasn’t the best idea either but you figured you would have been fine since you were going in a group, I mean, what wouldn’t you be okay? It’s not like an actual serial killer goes after a group of young adults who are all drunk right? But now you’ve lost 4 out of 6 people in said group. But maybe in the small chance you do get targeted, you should be able to stand a chance since your Daniel was always in the gym with Miguel, so he was pretty jacked (not as jacked as Miguel though but you’ll never say that out loud).

One song turned to two then to three, just like the beers in Daniel’s hand, you had slowed down so you could at least be sober enough to order a Lyft for when the night was over. Eventually you were whisked away from your boyfriend by MJ and Jess, thankful that they were still at the party and nothing happened to them.

“Hey, have you guys seen Peter or Miguel?” You shouted over the music after a while, Jess just shrugged, before MJ answered.

“They texted me that they found Daniel and he’s like, fucked up apparently.”

—

“Please!”

Stab.

“I don’t want to die! Please stop!”

Stab.

“I’ll give anything! Just don’t kill me!”

The begs and pleads become more desperate and sloppy with every second, the words slurring more together from the alcohol and the crimson red liquid dribbling out of Daniel's mouth. The sight was almost enough to make the two men feel pity. Almost.

“Anything?” The shorter one asked with an agonizingly slow head tilt, his voice altered from the voice changer attached to the plastic mask, signaling for the other to stop plugging the knife into their victim’s stomach. Despite not liking being told what to do, he dropped Daniel on the floor with a snarl. Daniel quickly retracted into a small ball, shaking arms going to cover his bloody wound with a groan and whimper.

“We want (Y/N).” If it weren't for him being in excruciating pain and bleeding out, Daniel would have thought they were joking, but the tone in which the words were spoken made his blood that was spilling out from his stomach and mouth run cold.

“W-what?” He asked as he tried to keep his breathing from becoming shallow and his head from becoming too dizzy, but he was failing miserably.

“You heard us. We. Want. (Y/N).” The larger one spoke this time. How badly, he wanted to emphasize each word with another stab, the knife in his hands twitched a bit as he tightened his grip on the black handle. He was itching for an excuse, but he’ll refrain.

For now.

Maybe it was the way he responded to a stressful situation, or maybe it was the lack of blood finally affecting his brain, but Daniel had the nerve to laugh. Fucking laugh. The laugh was breathy, and in between coughs and groans, causing Miguel and Peter to look at their prey like he was the crazy one. Rage filled their bodies when Daniel finally composed himself enough to talk again.

“Y-you can’t be serious? …Right? You-you’re gonna kill-kill me over some bitch?”

How fucking dare he.

How dare he speak about you like you were some random skank, like you were a pile of dirt. You were a fucking goddess, Miguel and Peter knew that, because they worshipped you like one. They didn’t see what you saw in Daniel, he didn’t deserve you, no one did, except Miguel and Peter, they would treat you better than any other man that roamed this stupid planet, and especially far better then the sorry excuse of a boyfriend that they had on the ground like he was a wounded animal.

For someone who was about to die, he sure had a lot of nerve.

He didn’t love you like they did, he didn’t know your every move like they did. They were like your real life guardian angels, always following behind you to make sure no one would harm so much as a hair on your pretty little head, and how lucky were they, that you were juuust oblivious enough that you don’t notice them, just enough to brush of your rummaged trash as raccoons, just enough that you didn’t noticed when a pair or two of your dirty panties go missing, you had too many to keep track of all of them anyways. Never knowing that one of the two would sneak into your apartment while you were asleep to grab them from your hamper, no matter which boy had decided to embark on their mission, both of them had to fight against the struggle to not stay and watch you sleep, fighting the urge to release their painful hard members and stroke while watching you sleep. They’d be lying to themselves if they said they haven’t lost the battle at least once before, biting into their free hand to stop any moans from escaping and waking you up, while they fist fuck their cocks with the other, but can you blame them?

They just loved you so much and you loved them too, you just haven’t realized it yet. How could you when that pest of a boyfriend of yours was pumping your head full of false thoughts? He didn’t love you like Peter and Miguel did. Sure Daniel might seem like he loved you so much, going as far as to get you flowers and gifts from time to time, but Miguel and Peter’s gifts they would give you were so much better, because these gifts were all given to you with the same purpose. To help them watch over you, make sure you were safe, strategically planning to make sure to eventually fill your entire home with cameras right under your adorable nose. The teddy bear that sits on your bed and the light up mirror over your bathroom sink were first of course.

Peter couldn’t help himself, with all of his force, he kicked Daniel right in the balls, causing him to curl up more in pain. Miguel was going to do the same when his phone pinged in his pocket, he quickly took it out and checked it, your name filling his screen made his heart skip a beat.

“It’s (Y/N). She’s asking where we are, and wants us to meet her at her apartment after she drops off Jess and MJ in 15 minutes.” Miguel mumbled as he looked down at his phone, before looking up at Peter then down at their prey on the ground. “She probably thinks we’re still with him, what should we do with him?”

Peter’s eyes followed Miguel’s gaze down to the half- conscious Daniel, silent as if thinking about what to say, or more likely what to do with him.

“We could leave him here for dead?” Peter suggested, but Miguel shook his head at the thought, too risky, they couldn’t have the chance of him being found by someone and taken to the hospital, that could ruin everything.

“You both… ar-are fucking psychotic! Killing me over some-some bitch who doesn’t eve-even give good fucking… fucking head!” Daniel yelled between coughs, more blood falling from his blue-turning lips, he looked like he had seen a ghost due to how pale he was becoming from the blood lost, and now he’s gonna become one. Miguel’s phone buzzed again, this time you only sent a single question mark, looking down at his phone.

“I want you to know that if I wasn’t about to be late to see you, I would beat this guy bloody, for the way he talks about you.” Miguel said out loud as if you could actually hear him, as if you were actually here to hear how true those words were, but instead Miguel raised his knife with one hand and grabbed Daniel’s hair with the other. Enjoying the way the Dani’s eyes widened in fear, his weak arms flailed around as he tried to fight the larger man off of him, but it was no use. “Guess I’ll just have to cut straight to the point.” He said, the smirk evident threw his altered voice before putting his knife against Daniel’s throat and slashing it open. Watching whatever life that was left in him drain from his eyes.

Peter being the skilled photographer he was, took a selfie of the two with their slayed animal, now it’s time to go claim their trophy.

—

Something was off.

Like seriously off, ever since Peter and Miguel disappeared at the party neither of them had answered their phone, and as soon Dani disappeared neither had he. Maybe the party wasn’t the best idea in retrospect, you let out a sigh as you entered your apartment, and collapsed on your couch, wanting to try and calm your racing thoughts a bit before you changed out of your costume. Closing your eyes, and taking in a deep breath.

Your phone started to ring.

Usually, you didn’t answer calls from people who weren’t already in your contacts, so the “blocked number” would normally set off red flags, but maybe the alcohol was still making your brain foggy, because without thinking you answer the call and put your phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

No answer.

You left out a huff and tried again.

“Hellooo?”

When you didn’t get an answer again you rolled your eyes.

“I think you got the wrong numb-“

“Wanna play a game?”

“I’m-I’m sorry?”

“I said, wanna play a game?”

“Um no thanks. I'm hanging up now.”

“Hang up and you won’t get to see your special surprise though.” Oddly enough, you grew a bit curious.

“Wha..what do I have to do?” You asked.

“It’s simple, We’re gonna play a small game of hot and cold.” You had a feeling this wasn’t a good idea, maybe you shouldn’t answer the call. “Right now you’re cold.”

Without another word, you slowly got up, and made your way down the hall, your floorboard creaking underneath your heels.

“Warmer.”

Your heart begins to beat in your ears, you bring a shaky hand up to the doorknob of your bathroom, you go to open the door when the voice from the other end of the phone spoke again.

“Colder.”

You quickly bring your hand back down to your side and let your heavy footsteps make your way into your bedroom.

“Hotter.”

You swallowed the thick lump of saliva down your throat as you made your way to the left side room, your eyes dead set on your closet.

“Hotter.”

You closed the gap between you and the closet, and brought your hand to the handle, mentally preparing yourself for whatever hides before the wooden doors.

“You're on fucking fire baby.”

Your hand drew back the door, the sight made you let out a blood curdling scream, almost dropping your phone in the process. Your Daniel, dead, sitting on the closet floor, gutted out like a fish. The voice on the other end of the phone let out a sly chuckle before speaking once again.

“Sorry about your boyfriend, guess all those muscles didn’t help much.” He mocked before the call went dead, and you finally released your phone, it falling to the floor, as your body began to shake and your breathing became rapid.

You let out a sob and began to stumble away from the mangled corpse that you once called your boyfriend, only for your back to meet with a what felt like a wall of muscle, you quickly look up over your shoulder, being met with the infamous ghostface mask that has been plastered all over the news.

“What’s the matter (Y/N)? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” The altered voice taunted. No, no, no,no. This cannot be happening. You shook your head as another sob left your lips stumbling away from the masked killer and into the hallway, expecting him to follow after you, but instead he just watched you. If you were thinking straight. You’d probably realized that this was a trap, but you weren’t thinking straight, as you finally reached the front door, you went to unlock the door and leave your apartment, but before you even stepped foot out of the door a large hand came and grabbed you around your waist. You take in a deep breath and open your mouth to scream, but instead a white cloth came and covered your nose and mouth, the strong smell of chemicals quickly filling your lungs.

“Surprised (Y/N).” This voice was a bit deeper, then the one from your bedroom, your head became dizzy as you eyes fluttered, your vision was beginning to blacken, before you were fully go under, you saw the man holding you still was a lot larger than the other one, it clicked, there were two of them.

You black out.

—

“She out?” Peter asked Miguel as he slipped off his mask, Miguel following suit.

“Like a light.” Miguel smirks as he goes to pick you up bridal style, your body limply laying in his arms. The two couldn’t help but smile as they watched your sleeping form, so peaceful looking, like an Angel. Their angel. Their plan played out just as they wanted, you were theirs now, and theirs alone. No one could come in the way of you three anymore, all they had to do now was make sure you wouldn’t leave them. But how would you do that if you didn’t know where you were? You couldn’t. That’s why Miguel gently placed you in the backseat of Peter’s car, before getting into the passenger’s seat. They were going to make sure you were far, far away from your old life, so you could start your new one with your lovesick killers.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o hara fanfic #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 x reader #astv miguel #astv spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara au #miguel x reader x peter #peter b parker au #peter b parker x reader #peter b parker #Peter b Parker fanfic #atsv miguel #atsv spiderman #spiderdads #spiderman 2099 fanfic #spiderdads x reader #yandere miguel o'hara #Yandere Peter b Parker #ghostface Miguel O’Hara #ghostface Peter b Parker

[nanamiya3]

CEO nanami x fem reader - reader is nanami’s wiiife - mentions of food and gojo - reader probably has some anxiety and self esteem issues but it’s not super major - fluff & comfort - wc. 2.9k

hiii i haven’t posted in so long but i’m back just for this because what would happen if you visited nanami at work?? what would happen if he *gasp* forgot his lunch at home??

As Kento’s stay at home wife, your days usually go something like this:

The alarm rings at exactly 7AM, Kento’s glaring default tone waking you both. You frown, groggy and disoriented and still stuck in that land between awake and asleep as Kento’s arms tighten around your middle. He mumbles a little something, meant to be your name but completely unintelligible, before begrudgingly untangling himself from you. He rubs at his eyes and sits up, your soft, sleepy whines tugging at his heart. Kento heads to the bathroom as you head back to sleep, and he gets himself ready for the day while you curl up beneath the blankets. He cooks breakfast for both of you, wrapping up your plate and setting it on the counter with a sweet little note before wolfing down his own portion. He puts his coat on, grabs his briefcase and the bento you pack him every night, and presses a soft kiss to your forehead before leaving for work.

Except today, Kento makes a terrible mistake. He cooks breakfast, sets aside your plate, elegantly writes “this is the huckleberry jam satoru recommended, no promises that it’ll be good. endlessly yours, kento” on the sticky note by the food, tucks into the huckleberry jam toast (which is unfairly delicious) and eggs, dons his coat, grabs his briefcase, and kisses your forehead before heading out the door. The bento sits in the fridge, untouched and forgotten.

So, you wake up almost an hour after Kento leaves, yawning and stretching this way and that. You run through your typical morning routine before downing the breakfast with the huckleberry jam toast, cursing Satoru for being right about something for once and sending Kento a good morning and thank-you-for-the-breakfast text.

You move on, still oblivious to the bento sitting in the fridge, opening up your laptop to search for the perfect birthday gift for Kento. After an hour of research and brainstorming, you’re smiling down at the list of potential candidates: a new leather notebook (his current one is on its last leg, bursting at the seams with half-sentences and spontaneous thoughts scribbled across the pages), a new mouse (since his current mouse is apparently “too small” for him), a set of custom tailored suits in an array of colors (because if you walk into his closet and see one more row of sand beige suit jackets you might actually have to divorce him), a massage oil gift basket (Kento works so hard :( sometimes after a long day you give him a massage, letting the aromatherapy and kneading relieve his tension), a nude polaroid for his wallet (because… because… because he’s always calling you beautiful and pretty and before him you never actually believed it), and a pair of noise cancelling headphones (apparently Satoru makes the office too loud, and Kento’s been commenting on how noisy the newcomers at his gym are). The gifts aren’t very extravagant, especially considering Kento’s wealth, but you’d feel cheap if you used his own money to buy him an expensive watch that you both knew he’d never wear—he loves his current watch too much to replace it anyways.

Satisfied that you’re the best wife on the planet and deciding to treat yourself to a snack, you poke your head into the fridge and realize with a start: Kento left his lunch at home.

Knowing this is equal parts frightening and exciting. You’re worried, because Kento never forgets his bento, claiming your cooking is way better than the cafeteria that provides free meals for his employees. And, you’re excited, because Kento never forgets his bento, and that means you’ve never had to drop it off for him before. Kento doesn’t try to keep you away from his work—you’ve been to the dinners and charity events and whatnot—but he doesn’t encourage you to visit the office while he’s working either, claiming he’ll be too distracted to function. On the rare occasions that you do visit him, it’s late at night after everybody else has left, with you there to offer… moral support. So, while you’ve met most of the executives (like Satoru, who leaves a pretty abysmal impression), you’re still pretty unfamiliar with the actual office workers. And now, with the perfect opportunity to snoop around at Kento’s other life, you feel a small smile rising up on your lips.

You load the bento into your car, tucking it into the passenger seat gently. The drive over to Kento’s company’s building is filled with excited humming, and you’re grinning as you pull into in the underground garage after telling the security attendant you’re here to drop off your husband’s lunch. Kento doesn’t know you’re here yet, and if you’re being honest, it’s because you know he’d just meet you in the lobby to pick up the bento, signaling the end of your adventure. Even though you were certain Kento would never cheat on you, you knew there were definitely some people in the office that had feelings for him—look at him, for Christ’s sake! You wanted to figure out who: the receptionist? His secretary? Maybe even the head of HR? You’d never get all your snooping done if you couldn’t get past the lobby.

And of course, just because you wanted to get past the lobby, the universe didn’t let you you get past the lobby.

The issue is that you don’t have a badge. Every employee needs to scan their badge to get past the turnstile guarded by the receptionist and two security guards. So, you make a beeline for the receptionist, hoping to plead your case. You tell her your husband’s left his bento at home, holding the lunch up as proof. She remains stoic. You try again, telling her you’re Kento’s wife, that you’re married to the CEO. She laughs in your face, giving you a pointed once over. You’re upset now, because you know Kento’s out of your league but that’s not for her to point out, especially considering he’s miles above her as well. You narrow your eyes, setting the bento down on the counter with more force than necessary to text Kento that you’re in the lobby with his lunch. The receptionist tells you to leave the building. You spin the phone around, trying to prove to her that you really are messaging Kento, that you really are married to him, scrambling to find pictures from your wedding to show her—

There’s a tug on your arm, a rough “That’s enough” sounding from somewhere on your left and a firm “You need to leave” from your right.

You can’t believe this is happening. You try your luck with the two heavyweights about to throw you out of the building, pointing to your ring, pulling up the most recent picture of Kento you could find (a photo you secretly took of him at a small coffeeshop the two of you visited this past weekend). They shake their heads, rumbling about how you can’t enter the building without a badge or visitor’s pass, and then there are hands around your biceps, tugging you, and you’re digging in your heels, making a scene but beyond caring, twisting to try to go back and grab the bento from off the counter—

“Take your hands off my wife.”

Kento’s voice is loud, angry, and stern as it rings across the marble and glass in the lobby. The arms around you let go immediately, and you hang your head, nervous and ashamed about all the trouble you’ve caused. You hear Kento’s voice barking orders to the workers, you see him walking towards you, but your mind is a flurry of activity and it won’t settle down. This is so embarrassing—Kento just watched you get pushed around and he had to come to your rescue. What if you were interrupting a meeting? What if he’d been busy with paperwork before you texted him? What if he’d been mid-conversation with someone? What if he didn’t care about the bento at all? What if he’d already realized he left his lunch at home and decided it wasn’t worth trying to pick up? Maybe he’d already had lunch at the cafeteria and you were just bothering—

There’s a big, familiar palm caressing your cheek, a deep, familiar voice asking if you’re okay, a handsome, familiar blonde filling up your line of sight, a familiar warm brown pair of eyes catching yours. You snap out of your own head, nodding quickly, practically lunging to grab the bento off the counter, stringing together half-sentences and barely there statements in a rush to justify why you’re here. Kento’s nodding patiently, waiting for you to finish, gentle eyes watching your own dart around—he’s always been an excellent listener, attentively hanging on to your every word, even when you’re just stuttering out random, incoherent thoughts. You cut yourself off once you realize you’re probably wasting Kento’s time, extending the bento towards him, hoping your ramblings got your point across. He pauses, concerned about how jittery and anxious you look, before pushing the bento back towards you. You think your heart has just cracked and shattered so violently it was audible, because of course Kento’s already eaten—

“Why don’t we have lunch together in my office? We can share the bento and grab some food from the cafeteria,” Kento proposes gently. He doesn’t want you driving home while so nervous, and he’s more than willing to bet the receptionist said something nasty to make you so insecure and shaky. He knows you’ll overthink your relationship if left alone, so he wants to spend some time with you, making sure you don’t let anything that just happened get to your head.

And of course you agree, happy to spend time with Kento, letting him lead you away from the lobby. He’s murmuring a quiet “Wait right here” as you guys get to the elevator, walking back to the lobby to give the receptionist and security guards a stern talking to. He reprimands them for being so handsy and quick to judge, telling them that they’re to let you in immediately should they ever see you again. Kento’s exceedingly calm, but his low tone is steeped with anger, and he thinks these 3 should call themselves lucky given that they’re still employed. After a few more stammering “yes sir”s and apologies are divulged, he walks back to where you’re waiting, chewing on your lip while clutching the bento for dear life and stressing about how terribly wrong this has all gone. Kento’s hand travels down to your lower back as the two of you wait for the elevator, rubbing small circles to alleviate your anxiety. He apologizes again for how you were treated, asking if you’re okay, if you need anything, if you want to go home instead of coming up to his office. You shake your head—it’s rare that you get to share lunch with Kento on a weekday, and plus, now that you’re finally in the building, you want to maximize your snoopage.

So, the two of you make your way up to Kento’s office, some part of his body touching yours the entire way: a hand on the curve of your back, an arm snaked around your middle, his hand laced with yours. And boy do people stare. This is the Nanami Kento, so strict and efficient in his work that people doubt his capacity for emotion. It’s no secret that Kento’s married, but just knowing that he’s married is very different from actually seeing his wife. And when the Nanami Kento’s wife is such a sweet, pretty thing, there are some raised brows. It’s so shocking that some people actually do a double take, squinting to check that your hand holding the bento really does have a ring on it.

The whispers follow the two of you until you’re finally standing in front of his secretary’s desk, right in front of his office. Kento introduces you, and you give her a nervous smile, extending your hand for a handshake and regretting it immediately, worried it might be too formal. As for his secretary, her mind is racing as well, all the times she’s tried to get him to stay later for drinks with the team, clearly interested in hooking up with him drunk, all met with a kind but firm “My wife is waiting on me,” flashing back to her. She reaches up to shake your hand, exchanging pleasantries, but her eyes are locked on your other hand, the one with the ring, the entire time.

Finally, you’re ushered into Kento’s office, and before you can even place the bento safely on his desk, his arms wrap around you, pressing you to his front, breathing you in. You feel a smile creep up onto your face, setting down the bento and twisting to face him, dropping your head onto his chest.

All of them. Every single one. That’s what you’ve decided. Every single worker in this building is undeniably in love with your husband. You nuzzle against Kento’s chest, mumbling about needing to cover his face when he leaves the house. Kento peers down at you, a little confused, but you just continue to press your face into him, letting your mind calm down before reminding Kento about lunch. Kento, if we’re being completely honest, has already forgotten about lunch, but he quickly straightens up, adjusting his glasses while muttering, “Right… right… the cafeteria.”

And you’re excited to snoop around the cafeteria as well. You’ve heard Kento’s laments about the budgeting: “We allocate so much money to providing the free meals and they still can’t make a decent loaf of sourdough. Do you know how much it costs us quarterly to source the ingredients and pay all of our kitchen staff? Love, it’s ridiculous. Some of these guys get paid more than our office workers and their budget goes up every year, but I still can’t get a good loaf of milk bread. If I had the time, I’d proof the dough myself.”

So, imagine your surprise when the elevator opens up to what might be the most well-designed canteen you’ve ever seen—it’s practically a maze of food. You’re shocked and excited, hands flying up to cover your mouth, and Kento’s looking at you like you’ve grown a second head. “It’s just food,” he mutters, clearly unimpressed with his company’s cafeteria—the same cafeteria which you’re now realizing spans the entire floor and includes a traditional wood fired brick pizza oven, an entire sushi bar, a self serve gelato station, and rows of peking duck roasting in a rotisserie oven, just to name a few. You’re completely flabbergasted, pulling a reluctant Kento forward, insisting on trying every single dish displayed. He grabs a tray, dutifully following you as you ooh and ahh over every section, the furrow between his brows deepening every time the tray becomes weighed down by another plate.

Eventually, Kento stops you, worried about the structural integrity of the tray, how the two of you will finish all of this food, and the fact that the dish with the chocolate cake is sitting fully on top of the crab cakes. You’ve got the sense to at least look a little embarrassed, offering to help carry the tray knowing full well you’d drop its contents in a heartbeat.

Back in Kento’s office, the two of you sit side-by-side with the tray in front of you and the bento in front of him. Kento seems content with the home-packed lunch, shaking his head when you try to offer him a bite of your food. As for you, you’re quickly realizing you’ve bitten off more than you can chew.

“Wasting food is a sin,” Kento comments, pointedly glancing at the tray of food, still three-quarters full, his own lunch already polished off.

You blush, shooting him a half-hearted glare as best you could with a mouth full of food, doing your best to chew and swallow before giggling back, “You could at least help me! It’s your company’s food, if you don’t like it you should just change it. Come on, get to work!”

You’re both laughing, shaking your heads at each other, but Kento picks up his chopsticks and starts to help with the food. He makes faces at the butter and garlic steamed clams, claiming yours are better, but you just swat at him and remind him that lying is also a sin. He thinks you’re ridiculous, but even so, he cancels the rest of his meetings for the day, spending the remainder of his 9-5 feeding you bite after bite of chocolate cake, taste testing meringues off your tongue while lounging in his office.

And when Satoru barrels into the office to complain and ask Kento why he’s leaving Satoru to fend for himself at the executive meeting, he’s not the least bit surprised to find you curled up on Kento’s lap, dozing off while your husband reviews a stack of paperwork. Kento’s raising a finger to his lips, shushing Satoru, glancing down at you with so much love in his eyes Satoru might actually become physically sick. You shift in your sleep, snuggling up against your husband, and Satoru has to stop himself from laughing at how quickly Kento drops the file in his hands to stroke your hair, ensuring your nap is as comfortable and uninterrupted as possible. Kento almost forgets Satoru’s even there, slipping off his suit jacket (camel beige, starchy, ugly) and draping it over your curled up form, releasing a deep sigh when he hears obnoxious giggling and a singsonging “Nanaminnnn” coming from across the room.

“There’s a reason why I’m married and you’re single, Satoru.”

- yea, gojo stumbled out of the office with his hand clenched over his heart, pretending he was stabbed or some shit & everybody ignored him bc this is normal and he is dramatic (nanami pls throw away the tan colored suits)

#jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #nanami kento #nanami jjk #kento nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami kento #jujutsu nanami #jjk nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami kento x reader #nanami fluff #nanami kento fluff #nanami x y/n #nanami fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk comfort #jujustsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #kento nanami fluff

[shawtuzi]

i’m very extremely excited to post this so pls enjoy!! i read ‘jealous girl’ by @elsweetheart and immediately fell in love w basketball player!abby so this is pretty much inspired by that just not as much talk about basketball!! if u haven’t read any of her works i highly recommend literally every single on of them<33

wc: 4.1k

cw include: black coded fem!reader, basketball player!abby, abby wears rings—yes i think that deserves a warning, strap on usage, some teasing on abby’s part, talks of abby being a brat tamer, oral both kinda receiving??? (reader sucks abby’s strap idk whether that counts or not), a little choking n spitting, lots n lots of praise coming from both sides, talks of breeding, tiny bit of strength kink, a wee bit of aftercare—i think that’s about it so sorry if i missed anything!! (this is not proofread btw pls excuse any mistakes)

abby was a busy busy girl. between classes, basketball, training at the gym, and tending to her needy gf poor baby had her plate full all day everyday. but on rare occasions she pushed all that aside to make more time for you—the needy gf in question. she missed you terribly whenever she wasn’t around you so she could only imagine how you felt :((.

today she had decided to skip her two hour long training session at the gym and instead suggested the both of you go out for a picnic. you were ecstatic to say the least which brought a wide smile to her freckled face.

currently she was sitting on the plush pink couch in your living room while you were in your room getting dressed for the picnic. your parents had splurged and bought you an off campus apartment bc by god there was no way you’d be able to fit everything you wanted in those tiny dorm rooms. abby visited your apartment as much as she could or you’d make your way to campus to spend the night in her dorm that she thankfully had to share with no one. being the mvp of the basketball team came with a few good perks—sharing a room with no one being the best one.

“you ready to see my outfit?” your honey smooth voice called from your room. before abby could answer she heard the clicking of heels and the little taps of your kittens paws against the hardwood floor. you were wearing a short, white sundress with strawberries printed all around it. she eyed the white kitten heels you were wearing and made a mental note to grab a pair of more comfortable shoes for you to wear just in case the heels began to blister your feet.

“you look beautiful babydoll,” she smiled bringing her large hands to your hips, giving them a soft squeeze. god you were so pretty n soft. she honestly had half a mind to bend you over and eat your pussy from the back but she had a better idea. “i gotta grab something from your room real fast, how bout you give cinnamoroll some food before we go yeah?” she spoke referring to your fluffy, white rag doll kitten that was currently messing with the scratching post abby had bought for her as a gift. “you got it babe!” you obeyed her command and began opening a can of cat food for the kitty meanwhile abby was in your room rummaging around in the bedside dresser that was on her side until she found exactly what she was looking for.

once she was done she walked out to find you standing by the front door with a dopey smile on your face. she grabbed the wicker basket full of delicious treats you had prepared off the marble counter and you two were off! but not before abby made you triple check that you had your house key. there were three incidents where she had to help you break into your apartment bc you forgot your key and she was not about to make it a fourth. “you got everything you need doll? once i leave this complex i’m not turning around,” she said with the slightest bit of sternness in her voice. your eyes widened knowing by her tone she was serious so you quickly opened your purse to make sure you had all your belongings.

“let’s see…emergency lipgloss, eyelash glue, mini fan, second emergency lipgloss, my key, and…where is my—ohhere it is! yep i’m ready to go abs!” you said gleefully, grabbing abby’s hand to place it on it’s rightful place on your thigh. abby gave your thigh a loving squeeze before pulling out of your apartment complex. the drive was mostly quiet besides the radio playing in the background and you humming along to it. “you look very handsome today abs,” you spoke softly playing with the silver bands on her fingers. abby felt her cheeks flush when you called her handsome—if she had a dick it would for sure jump at your sweet compliment. “thank you angel ‘n you look gorgeous as always…my beautiful gorgeous girl,” she smiled bringing your hand to her lips to give your knuckles a sweet kiss.

you both finally made it to the park, the sun just minutes away from setting making the sky a pretty mixture of pink and orange. “oh it’s so beautiful out,” you swooned, pulling out your phone to take a picture of the sky. once you had taken a plethora of pictures—some of the sky and some of yourself, you walked over to abby and laced your fingers with hers. she picked the first open spot she saw and laid the pink plaid blanket out before setting the wicker basket down. she pulled out all the food while you watched the geese swim in the small lake in front of you, your chin tucked in your knees looking adorable as ever.

you settled on making the two of you chicken caesar wraps with sweet potato fries and two slices of homemade strawberry shortcake for dessert. “these are delicious y/n you’re quite the chef,” abby said wiping her mouth with the pink cloth napkins you’d packed as well. “oh abby i make these for you at least twice a week they can’t be that good anymore…although i did add a little bit of buffalo sauce this time,” you giggled, taking another bite of the wrap.

after finishing up all the food, not even leaving a crumb behind, you and abby just sat in silence basking in each others company. little did you know abby was becoming more sexually frustrated by the minute. that dress….that damn strawberry dress practically had her in shambles as she watched it slowly ride up your thighs with every little movement you made. “c’mere angel,” she grunted maneuvering your body to sit you on her lap. she thought you would’ve felt the little surprise she was hiding in her jeans but you still didn’t have a clue in the world :((.

while you were babbling about a new collar you had ordered for cinnamoroll abby was slowly but surely dying of horniness with each passing second. “it’s so cute it’s pink ‘n it had these silver rhinestones on it! i just know she’ll love….it,” you trailed off when you felt abby buck her hips up and that’s when you felt it. you craned your neck to look at her, your glossed up lips parted in disbelief. “you. did. not.” you gasped digging your freshly manicured nails into the denim of her jeans. “did what?” she asked with the sickest smirk on her on her lips.

it was no secret abby liked to wear her strap underneath her clothes but it was always in the privacy of her dorm or your apartment never in public. “abby…we can’t what if someone sees,” your voice was so scared and shaky it was too adorable. abby nuzzled her face into your neck inhaling the sweet smell of shea butter and coconut, “see you’re sounding like you don’t want this but i can feel your hips moving baby, you’re not as subtle as you think you are,” she chuckled against your neck pressing one, two, three kisses to the most tender spot. you were honestly in shock that she was indeed correct, your hips had suddenly grown a mind of their own and began grinding gently against the bulge in her jeans.

“o-okay okay! i want it….but not here. wan’ you to take me home and take your time with me,” you mewled arching your back just the slightest into abby’s chest. abby hummed in agreement, tapping your thigh softly as a sign for you to get up—which you did without a second thought. the two of you packed up the containers and blanket in silence before making your way to abby’s car. abby opened your door for you before going to her side, yet another idea hatching into her brain as she watched you pick at your dress. “babydoll,” she said her voice dropping an octave, “want you to do something for me while we drive back.” you turned your head to her, hearts practically appearing in your eyes as you listening to her every word very carefully.

abby undid her belt and you were about to object saying you wanted to savor the feeling of her at home, but before you could say anything she spoke up once more. “i know you wanna wait till we get home to fuck and we will, but until then you think you could suck me off while i drive?” oh shit. your lips parted as if you were going to say something but you just nodded making abby tisk and shake her head. “gotta here you say it out loud baby,” she said and you quickly replied with a shaky ‘yes i will.’ she hummed in content before unzipping her jeans, pulling out the violet eight inch silicone dildo that has ruined you more time than you could remember.

abby wrapped her hand around the back of your neck and pushed your head down till you were face to face with her strap. “go ahead don’t be shy s’not like you haven’t sucked my dick before,” she chuckled giving your cheek a rough pat. without a second thought you wrapped your lips around the tip giving it an experimental suck. “that’s my good girl,” abby sighed happily, patting your head gently before starting up her car.

your panties were soaked beyond belief it was sooo embarrassing. abby was the type that kept things strictly in the bedroom which you completely respected, so to see her so eager for you to suck her off while she drove had your pussy throbbing with need. of course abby knew she couldn’t physically feel your plump lips around the silicone but by god she swore she could feel your throat tighten with every bob of your head. “don’t be afraid to be sloppy baby,” she hummed running her calloused hands slowly up and down your back. you obeyed her command with a quickness and began using more spit, the lewd gluck gluck gluck sounds coming from your throat had her clit pulsing. she bucked her hips up just the slightest bit to give her clit some attention causing you to gag around the dildo. “shit— sorry baby i’ll be gentle,” she cooed apologetically, giving your head a loving pat.

before you knew it you were in front of your apartment much to your dismay. “alright babydoll let’s head in,” abby chuckled breathlessly. her cheeks were completely flushed and she was the tiniest bit sweaty despite the ac being on full blast the entire drive. when you lifted your head up you had a pout on your swollen lips making her laugh once again. “don’t worry angel once i fuck your soul out you can suck my dick n’ keep me warm in your mouth for as long as your pretty little self desires,” she gave your lips three kisses before tucking her strap back in her jeans. before she could open her door your hand gripped onto her hoodie, “promise?” you whispered, your voice the tiniest bit hoarse. abby smiled nodding her head.

“i promise.”

as soon as you stepped into your apartment abby pushed you against the counter, kissing you with so much love and wanted your knees nearly buckled. she moaned against your mouth, bucking her hips against yours. “this—this fucking dress goddamn. been driving me crazy since i saw you in it,” she groaned, bringing her hands to your breasts to give them a rough squeeze over the soft material. “abby,” you mewled at her aggressive touches.

“jump,” she mumbled against your lips and you wasted absolutely no time. you jumped up and her strong hands immediately caught you, pulling your body impossibly close against hers. abby kept mumbling out incoherent sentences to herself so quietly all you could here was something about you being ‘so pretty’ whispered over and over again until her knees knocked against the end of your bed. abby gently laid you down taking a moment to admire you in your current state. you had the biggest fucking pout on your lips and your hands were gripping onto the fluffy blanket beneath you. every couple of seconds your legs would spread a little wider making abby smirk.

“pull your dress up for me a bit,” she commanded, running her hands gently up and down your thighs. you quickly pulled your dress up past your thighs giving abby a mouthwatering view of your pink cotton panties. “well what do we have here?” she grinned, running her thumb over the embarrassingly large wet spot on your panties. you didn’t give her a direct answer, instead whining out a pathetic ‘abby’ that boosted her ego even more. you huffed, pushing yourself up on your elbows. “c’mon don’t be a tease i thought you were supposed to be taking care of me,” your tone was borderline bratty but abby decided to let it slide since it had been days since she last properly took care of you.

“you’re right m’sorry baby,” she gave your thigh a soft kiss and then another until she slowly but surely made her way to where you needed her most. you felt her nudging at your clit with her nose and your impatience was definitely getting the best of you. “c’monnn abby just—o-oh god!” you squealed when you felt abby begin to lick and suck at your pussy over your panties. she had felt so close yet so so far it was driving you bonkers. “what’s with the face?” she chuckled against your pussy knowing good and damn well what your problem was. “s’not enough i-i need more. give me more please?” abby could’ve gotten a toothache from how sickeningly sweet your voice was.

abby wrapped her fingers around the waistband of your panties, giving your covered clit one more kiss before pulling them down. she tossed the garment aside and threw your thick thighs over her broad shoulders, staring you down like she was about to eat you whole. “look at my girl using her manners, taught you well didn’t?” she spit on your clit, making your hips jolt. abby was good at a lot of things: basketball, academics, cooking, anything that had to do with cars but at the top of the list in your opinion was her ability to brat tame. before she met you you were as spoiled as they came and although she found it quite hilarious watching you throw temper tantrums over nothing it got old very quick. so whenever you decided to act like a brat with her she made no hesitation to bend you over her and lap and spank you until you were blubbering out apologies and promises that you’d stop being such a damn brat.

the first time it happened caught you completely off guard. she had said something along the lines of you being too spoiled for your own good to which you replied that she was stupid and didn’t know what she was talking about. suddenly you felt a quick, but very rough smack against your ass making you gasp. “watch your mouth yeah?” was all she said, now rubbing her hand against the burning skin. that was only the tip of the iceberg but we’ll go to that another time let’s get back to the smut shall we!!

by now abby’s tongue was moving sloppily against your pussy while three of her thick fingers pumped in and out of you with vigor. you were bucking your hips up every time her fingers brushed up against that spit that had your toes curling, but she just pushed your right back down eventually using a little more strength than she usually did with you to keep you planted against the bed. “feel s’good abs. can’t wait to have your dick in me n’ feel you in my stomach,” you weren’t a hundred percent sure what was coming out of your mouth, the feeling of abby’s fingers fucking into you already making you go a little dumb.

abby groaned against your pussy, pulling away just the slightest bit to spit on your clit before diving back in. she was being so fucking sloppy the noises of her lips smacking against your pussy would’ve made you embarrassed if you were actually focused. “taste so good honey i could stay down here for hours,” abby mumbled before taking her fingers out making you whimper from the loss. you had a complaint sitting right on your tongue but it quickly disappeared once you felt abby’s tongue begin to prod at your tight entrance.

abby had tongue fucked you into three orgasm before you were finally begging her to fuck you with her strap. she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before standing to her full height making you feel incredibly small. she removed the plain black hoodie she was wearing along with her jeans, leaving her in a gray wife beater and black boxers. she walked over to her side of the bed and opened up the bedside drawer till she found a small bottle of lube. “i think i stretched you out enough but can’t be too sure, don’t wanna hurt you or anything,” she spoke softly giving you a sweet smile. she rubbed the lube up and down the length of the dildo as you watched intently, the sight of her veiny hands stroking it had your thighs squeezing together.

she walked back over to you and grabbed your legs pulling you to the edge of the bed. “ready?” she whispered tapping the fat tip against your clit and you quickly nodded, using your feet to push her body closer to your. abby slowly pushed the tip in and it was a good thing she used the lube, even after getting three orgasms out of you and using three of her fingers on you you were still a tight fit. “kiss me please,” you whimpered, clutching onto abby’s wife beater. she obliged and smashed her lips against yours. she was slowly but surely pushing the rest of her strap inside you, rubbing tight little circles on your clit to ease the sting of her stretching you out.

she finally bottomed out and you had never felt more content in your entire life being caged between her muscly arms as she gave you pleasure others could only dream about (it’s me i’m others). abby glanced down and her pussy clenched around nothing at the sight of yours struggling to take every inch she had to offer you. “wow, f-fuck you really have the prettiest pussy don’t you doll? all for me yeah? no one else?” she pulled out halfway before slamming back into you making your body jolt. “y-yes abby s’all yours please keep going,” abby didn’t need to be told twice that’s for damn sure. she folded your knees to your chest and began putting in some serious work, not even bothered that the force of her thrusts had her thighs slapping against yours so hard her thighs were turning a dark shade of pink.

her hand wrapped around your throat squeezing with a little pressure, the coolness of her rings felt so good against your skin that was practically on fire. “so…so good abby s-so fuckin’ good,” you slurred, bringing your hands up to cup her face. her cheeks were flushed pink and her hair was sticking to her forehead that had a light sheen of sweat over it. “look s’handsome too you look so good,” there you went again calling her handsome, it was almost like you wanted her to fuck you until your bones were jelly.

it didn’t take long for your fourth orgasm to hit you like a truck, the shriek you let out nearly scaring poor cinnamoroll to death as she was sitting oh so comfortably on the couch. “yeah that’s right gimme another one c’mon baby,” abby grunted, gripping your cheeks in her hand before giving your face a rough slap. out of the corner of her eye she saw something move and glanced over to see cinnamoroll watching the two of you go at it like rabbits. “w-what’s wrong why’d you stoppp?” you whined tapping on her bulging biceps. abby blinked a few times before turning her attention back to you, “the cats watching,” was all she said makinf your brows furrow. you craned your neck and there was your kitten witnessing everything. you gasped covering your face with your hands, “go shut the door she doesn’t need to see her mommies doing this!” you cried shaking your head in disbelief. abby felt her heart swell a little when she heard you refer to you both as cinnamorolls ‘mommies.’

abby carefully pulled out, quickly making her way to the door to shut it but not before muttering a sorry for shutting the door in the poor kittys face. she turned around and nearly fell to her knees when she saw you were in a new position. you’d stripped yourself of your dress and were face down ass up, slightly wiggling your hips in a way to signal her you were ready to take her once more. “you’re a goddamn dream,” she muttered, gripping the fat off your ass in her hands before giving it three quick smacks. with no warning she pushed herself in to the hilt, making quick work to grab your hips so you wouldn’t collapse from the force. she set her knee of the bed before making a steady rhythm, the squelching of your pussy making her clit pulse. fortunately in this position the harness brushed her clit in the most delicious way possible, unfortunately though it was causing her thrusts to be a little sloppy.

she pulled you up by your neck, pressing your back against her chest. “tell me you love me,” she grunted resting her forehead on your shoulder. you mumbled out a weak ‘i love you’ but it wasn’t enough for her. she was hitting the right spots and it was making your brain so damn foggy you could barely think! not to mention your orgasm was creeping closer and closer :(. “say it louder,” she growled tightening her grip on your neck. you said it once more but it still wasn’t enough and abby was absolutely fed up. she brought her lips close to your ear before saying, “i swear to everything that is holy if you don’t scream that shit i’m gonna pull out and make you hump my shoe to get off.” her words were enough to make you cum on the spot, loud shouts of ‘i love you abby!’ echoing throughout your apartment.

abby held your body close as she continued to grind against you chasing her own orgasm. “motherfuck—shit y-you feel so good baby, so good for daddy like always,” she whined against your shoulder. she relished in the aftershocks of her orgasm before slowly pulling out of you once more. you flopped against the bed, groaning from soreness already. you turned on your back and quickly shuffled underneath the covers waiting patiently for abby to return from cleaning up the strap on. she returned shortly with a dopey smile on her face. you weakly lifted up the blanket signaling for her to join you which she happily obliged, gently maneuvering her body on top of yours so she was able to lay on your chest without crushing the rest of your body.

“i think…that was the best sex we’ve ever had,” you sighed dreamily, running your fingers through her hair that was no longer in its signature braid. she was about to speak when you both heard a little feet tap against the floor and automatically knew who it was. “my poor baby c’mere,” you pouted tapping the spot next to you on the bed. cinnamoroll was quick to jump on the bed and nuzzle into your neck purring contently. “so sorry you had to see that your poor eyes,” you cooed to the cat like this wouldn’t happen again in the future. abby chuckled shaking her head at how silly you were being, “you’re too cute babydoll…and to follow up with what you said before: that was the best sex we’ve had yet.”

trust and believe abby was already planning out the many positions she was going to put you in once you both gained some energy back hehe.

#abby anderson smut #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x black!reader #abby anderson x female reader #tlou smut #tlou imagine #the last of us smut #the last of us imagine #abby anderson tlou2

[saltofmercury]

Late Nights

Pairing: König x reader

A/N: Just been fantasizing about seeing him in public but he’s fictional and I can daydream right? Special thank you to @softpedropascal for reading and giving me courage to post :)

Summary: You see a mysterious man one night at the grocery store; a little meet cute gone wrong

"Late nights"

You could hear the constant downpour above you hitting the ceiling as you made your way through. Rain pouring down as you continued through the aisles of cereal, pasta, and different breads. The market was quiet, almost peaceful, at this time of night, a couple of workers walking around, people picking up a couple things, and two cashiers who greeted you upon arrival.

You’re about halfway done and needed to get a few fresh veggies for the week. As you make your way down to produce, you try to remember what vegetables wouldn’t go to waste throughout the week, and hopefully remembering that you could freeze the spinach bag you always get but never use. You cut the corner to the produce and you are stopped dead in your tracks.

You are stunned. You see him.

A colossal man dressed in all black. The word huge wouldn’t be the best to describe him because he wasn’t a huge person, he was a massive person. You had gasped quietly observing him from afar. He had on a black mask, a turtle neck going all the way up his chin, black sweatpants, a black trench coat, and rain boots that were about knee length. Although you couldn’t see his face clearly, he had a mop of hair on top of his head, going above his eyebrows, tangled, and wavy. The sides of his head were shaved, clean cut. His whole presence alone could’ve been announced just by the way he would stomp on the tile as he made his way down the stands of cucumbers, peppers, carrots, and herbs. You had forgotten where you were and just stared. You couldn’t believe someone as big as him was delicately holding his produce up to inspect and then gently placing it in the basket on his right arm. Holding a large apple alone in the palm of his hand made you wonder, if he wanted to, could he crush it inside his palm?

But as your thoughts start racing about how immensely tall and broad this mystery man is, it’s quickly broken through eye contact. He stared up at you with menacing eyes. His eyebrows furrow as makes eye contact with you. It spooks you a bit, him staring you down. It startles you. Did you do something wrong? One second he was just in his own world picking apples and now his eyes are piercing right through you. You open your mouth to try and say something but nothing comes out, you feel a heat rush towards your cheeks. The eye contact is broken as he quickly turns on his heel, shuffles away from you, and leaves you alone in front of the lemon baskets. You noticed the tip of his ears turning a deep red as he walked away.

You felt embarrassed. Of course he knew he was a big man and there you were, mouth hanging open like a fish and eyes popping out wide. But your thoughts wouldn’t leave you alone.

Who was this man? Have you ever seen him before? Was he new? Where did he stomp off to? All these thoughts came to mind as you finished up your shopping and paid.

Maybe he was someone famous you quietly decided inside your car. After seeing the size and height of that man he just couldn’t just be a regular nobody. After all, covering his face at almost 11 o’clock at night? That wasn’t weird at all.

It’s about 3 weeks later and you haven’t stopped thinking about him. Did this man disappear out into thin air? What was he hiding behind the turtleneck? It amazed you how fast he had left the produce section with 4 steps. What was even more quite embarrassing was hoping you would run into him at coffee shops as you picked up your coffee, walking down the street as you drove home, even at the gym (which you haven’t been to in a while) thinking maybe he’s on the second floor where you had a strong feeling you would see him but nothing. You had gone TWICE during the week to the supermarket during your lunch breaks with the would be there just to see him again. The little hope you have left gives out, maybe he was a dream?

A month passes and one night as you’re finishing up a work project, your stomach rumbles. When was the last time you ate? You haven’t eaten all day because of this stupid project. You walk towards the kitchen picturing the sandwich you’re about to make when you open the fridge and realize you haven’t been to the market in so long since your boss had begged you to double and triple check this project before handing it in. Sighing, you grab your wallet and coat and drive out.

You pull up at the market again when the giddy feelings hit you again. You think how foolish it was romanticizing some stranger. You can feel yourself blush as you grab a cart and begin to push through the entrance. Already checking off the mental list in your head, you make your way down several aisles. The grocery store is quiet at night, almost empty with a few people inside the store; tired moms with newborns in their carriers walking through aisles like zombies, dad’s pushing the cart behind them. A couple picking out frozen dinners because they already spent too much on take out this week, you smile to yourself and continue shopping realizing all you needed was fresh garlic and bell peppers for the recipe you were going to treat yourself to. You make your way back to produce and stop again…

He’s there again picking out bell peppers.

The inside of your chest is pounding, you tell yourself to remain calm, remembering how you scared him off last time. You think of a good way to maybe approach him this time without having him walk away. Maybe you should apologize for staring?

You press your cart at close proximity to him and begin picking out the bell peppers. He’s already moved onto something else. He doesn’t look your way, he’s far too invested with the parsley he’s holding. You clear your throat as you twist the peppers in a bag into a knot. He’s startled, but only side eyes before placing the parsley down and shifts his body toward another section of produce.

You push your cart a little further down, more casual now, pretending to focus your attention on garlic bulbs. You see he has his back towards you and now you can really eye him up and down without the eye contact. He shifts himself again, on the balls of his feet.

You begin to eye him from bottom up—black running shoes with dark gray sweatpants, a dark sweater stretched around him, a gray turtleneck underneath going past his nose and barely hiding his red ears. You start to think to yourself how could his ears always be red? Could he be running hot underneath those layers? You notice there’s some uncomfortable shifting with him, he begins to tap on the edge of the counter of the pears, almost compulsively, was he on edge?

The silence had become deafening but you can’t think of anything to approach him with. Finally he drops the pear and begins to walk away leaving you with your mouth open once again.

He’s far down the store now and there’s nothing even remotely possible you can say for him to turn back.

Two weeks pass by. You can’t think of anything more than how embarrassing it was to see the man you had been imagining running into only to not do anything. You even saw him fidget a bit, wondering if he knew you were staring him down from behind. Even the voice inside your head made you double think, maybe he knew you were checking him out and you once again made him uncomfortable.

Another week passes, and you can’t take it anymore. You will go to the store late at night again hoping he’s there and you will say a small hello and maybe even ask for his name. He couldn’t be that scary. He’s all height but no talk.

You’re back again, two nights later, and you’re prepared. The universe sent you small signs all week. The ugly bell pepper dress your neighbor wore as she greeted you. The gray turtleneck you thought you lost but magically found. All small subtle signs you were sure of. You made a note to come at night. You’ve arrived a little earlier than usual, taking your sweet time walking through the aisles, saving produce for last because the gut feeling inside you knows he’ll be here late at night. The universe has decided to side with you this time because once you make your way around the corner you spot him by the carrots, there’s no stopping you now.

Your mind races with a million thoughts, what were you going to say? Why were you so curious over someone who couldn’t even look at you properly let alone show his face in public? You can feel yourself sweat a bit and even get angry until it’s too late.

and suddenly it happens….

You accidentally shove your cart into his back, his shoulders slightly hunched up.

You are mortified. embarrassed. You wished you hadn’t come at all.

Immediately you start apologizing. He’s barely moved though, still standing with his legs hip width apart and as still as a statue. The carrots however, dropped in front of him as he bends over to gather them.

You cry out, “I… I am SO SORRY I wasn’t trying to run into you like that! Are you okay?”

“Fine” he responds. Calm, but serious.

“Are you sure? I promise I wasn’t trying to hurt you”

“Do not worry,” he calmly adds, “It was an accident.” His back turned to you still.

Silence again… your heart is racing, you cannot believe you managed to screw up this one chance that you see him. You still fumble with how to recover this interaction.

“Please, are you alright? I am sooo sorry I really wasn’t thinking—“

“I barely felt it.” he says.

You try to lighten the mood hopefully having him attempt to turn around just so you can see his eyes again.

“The carrots are so much smaller this year aren’t they? It’s no wonder they fell out of your hands” You manage to spit out.

You catch his curiosity — an eyebrow raise, and a quiet nod from him as he sets them down.

You feel the rush of blood come to your face and he can see how red you get.

Breathless, you decide to give up.

You let out an awkward chuckle “ha ha heh…..”

You push your cart towards the cashier and bag up your groceries. You can feel the heat of your cheeks still there. It stings. This was truly one of the most embarrassing, no, this was mortifying event you experienced in your entire life.

Not even when you peed your pants in 3rd grade would top this. Not when you fainted because of period cramps and landed in the mud during gym class and the boys behind you called out “poop pants.” This is so much worse.

You see him at the self checkout and quickly walk by him avoiding eye contact with him. So much for daydreaming about this guy. The only interaction and you’ve turned this into a complete nightmare.

You manage to get to your car and fumble with the keys to unlock the door until you hear a soft voice.

“You dropped your receipt back there.”

Your stomach drops as you turn slowly.

It’s him. Decked out in black but his hair shining with the light above him. He’s standing there holding your receipt in his hands.

You reach for it with shaky hands, with a quiet “thank you”, as you shove the receipt in your bag and turn back to opening the door. You could already hear his footsteps stomping away towards his car.

The drive home is a painfully quiet one. Replaying the absolute torture you just went through in your head. You approach your apartment, park your car, and head inside.

As you unpack your groceries, you start kicking yourself mentally on how you could possibly run into someone just for the sake of their height! Ugh!

You finish packing and see the bottom of the bag, your receipt had been crumbled and tossed into your pocket. This one was flipped over.

You eye it carefully and bring it closer to your face. What was on it? Was something…? There’s something was scribbled on this one, You flatten it out beneath your fingers and realize there’s a phone number, with the words

“text me some time” - K

#konig #konig x reader #konig x y/n #konig x you

[lily-fics-11]

The Girl Next Door: Chapter 1 (Hazel Callahan)

The Girl Next Door

Fic master post here (feel free to comment to be added to tag list)

You hadn’t been close with your neighbor Hazel for a few years. But you find her beat up in the locker room after fight club and all of that changes.

Chapter 1

You reunite with Hazel and clean her up after fight club

CW: mentions of blood and injury, allusions to violence, cursing, not beta read

You make your way to the locker room after staying behind at school to work on a group project. You forgot your hoodie in your gym locker, so you are grabbing it quickly before heading home. 

While you are at your locker you hear the door open and close. Someone else has entered the locker room, but you don’t think anything of it. 

As you go to leave you walk past the bathroom and you see someone standing in front of one of the sinks. She is facing the other way but you can see her reflection in the mirror. You notice that there is blood on her face and dripping down her shirt, paired with a swollen eye. You are obviously concerned and stop to take a closer look. Upon further inspection you realize that it is your neighbor.

“Hazel?” You call as you approach her. She sees you in the mirror and turns around. Why does she look amused?

“Hey!” She greets you like the circumstances are normal. 

“What the hell happened to you?” This wasn’t the best school, but you would never have thought someone would get attacked like this. 

“Oh this?” She looks down at her bloody shirt and shrugs. “I was just in fight club.”

“Who are you? Brad Pitt?” You are a little angry, what the hell is fight club and how did someone sweet and innocent like Hazel end up in it? You can’t help but feel bad for thinking that she looks kind of hot like this. 

“No, no, of course not. Some of my friends have started a self defense club, we call it fight club because we learn to defend ourselves by fighting eachother.”

You sigh and decide to save your questions for later and give in to your instinct to take care of her.

“Why don’t we get you cleaned up?” You suggest to her.

She shifts uncomfortably and scratches the back of her head. She avoids eye contact by looking at the floor.

“You don’t have to do that. I’m fine, really,” she protests. 

“I can’t just leave you here like this. I know we aren’t close anymore but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.” You mean every word. Hazel started to distance herself from you towards the end of middle school. You never knew why. You settled in with the popular crowd and Hazel settled in to her own niche. But it hurt you so badly and came right as you realized you had feelings for her. You have pushed those feelings down over the years, you’ve even had a girlfriend. But seeing Hazel like this, your old feelings are bubbling up to the surface. 

Her eyes just widen, surprised, as if you had been the one to push her away. She tries to hide it, but a smile starts to creep across her face. “I guess I could use some help cleaning up. It doesn’t usually get so messy, I swear.”

“Oh believe me, I’m going to need to hear more about this fight club. But right now we need to do something about all of this blood,” your voice is tender, you are not sure exactly what she’s been through today and you want to be delicate. 

You put your things down and grab a paper towel. You wet it and get closer to Hazel. As you reach towards her face she takes a sharp breath in. You aren’t sure why though, you haven’t even touched her yet. 

“I promise I’m going to be as gentle as I can, but it’s still going to hurt,” you explain. 

Hazel just nods and closes her eyes.

You begin to dab the wet paper towel on her face and the blood starts to come off. She winces with pain and says “ow” every once in a while, her eyes still sealed shut. 

“Why don’t you talk to me? It’ll distract you from the pain.” You are suggesting it for her, but also for you. You’ve really missed talking to Hazel.

She opens her eyes to look at you with a tense expression.

“Right, right. Good idea. Um… how have you been?”

“Well I haven’t been punched in the face recently, so better than you,” you laugh a little and she does too. 

“Fight club is great, for real. Yeah we get a little banged up, but it’s a safe space.”

You can’t help but laugh more as you echo “safe space.”

You expect her to continue to defend her new venture but she quickly changes the subject instead. 

“So, how’s your um,” Hazel pauses to clear her throat, “girlfriend?”

That takes you by surprise. You didn’t really talk to Hazel at all but you guess that it makes sense that she would know which lesbians are in relationships with each other. 

“Oh, we actually broke up. Last week,” you tell her shyly. It’s weird discussing your love life with someone that has your old feelings for her creeping up on you. 

“I’m… sorry to hear that.” Does she sound relieved? It wasn’t a secret that your ex wasn’t exactly the nicest to you, so that must be it. 

“It was for the best. Things weren’t exactly good between us,” you admit.

“You deserve so much better than her!” Hazel blurts out unexpectedly.

“I… thank you. That means a lot to me.” She just nods her head. 

You take a step back and her eyes widen, seeming to think it was her fault. 

“I’m done,” you tell her and you see a wave of relief come over her.

“What are we going to do about that shirt?”

“I’ll just change when I get home.” Hazel tells you. 

“No, no.” You protest and pick up your hoodie. You offer it to her “take this.”

Hazel’s eyes dart around nervously. “That’s, um, okay.”

“You are going to get your little fight club disbanded” you warn, “if anyone sees you walking around with blood all over you like that. It’s bad enough that you’ve got a black eye. Plus everyone is still freaking out about that girl getting beat up by the Huntington football player.”

Hazel takes a nervous breath and starts to pull her shirt off. Your eyes widen and you know you should look away but it’s hard to when she reveals her toned stomach and sports bra. “What are you…” you begin to question frantically. 

She cuts you off, “I don’t want to get any blood on your sweatshirt.”

You nod and finally peel your eyes off of her. You look away but leave your hand out so she can take the hoodie. 

After a moment she clears her throat and you look back at her. You can’t help but smile a little bit seeing your hoodie on Hazel. 

“I better get going,” she says and she starts to walk away. You step in front of her.

“Your eye is practically swollen shut. You can’t drive like that. I’ll give you a ride home.”

She freezes like a dear in headlights. She looks like she’s about to protest but she knows you are right. 

“But my car? How am I supposed to get back to it, get to school tomorrow?” She asks nervously. 

“I’ll just drive you to school tomorrow,” you tell her with a smirk. You can’t help it. The thought of getting to spend more time with Hazel excites you. She looks a little intimidated by how forward you are. She avoids eye contact. “I guess I’ll grab my stuff.”

#bottoms hazel #hazel bottoms #hazel callahan #hazel callahan blurb #hazel callahan bottoms #hazel callahan brainrot #hazel callahan fanfiction #hazel callahan fic #hazel callahan imagine #robin buckley fic #hazel callahan x fem!reader #hazel callahan x fem reader #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan x you #hazel x reader #hazelcallahan #hazel from bottoms #hazelfanfic #robin buckley imagine #hazel x you #hazel x y/n #hazel x fem!reader #hazel callahan fluff #bottoms 2023 #bottoms fanfic #bottoms movie #bottoms x reader

[moniibu]

Reader finding out that Yan Bully is being sweet to them, kisses Yan Bully and is slowly falling for them?

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY X FEM READER *:･ﾟ✧

this is based on my other works, which are on my page. i plan on making a masterlist soon where you can just click.

things to watch out for: yandere themes, bullying, lovebombing(?), possessiveness, delusions, etc.

word count: i’m a little too lazy to do a word count this time 😅, but we both know it’s over 1k

summary: you and *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ have had a few rough patches. all of a sudden, her demeanor has switched, leaving you confused, angry, and captivated.

notes: hi everyone !! i am so sorry i took so long to make this request as well as make more parts for *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧, since you guys like her so much. i’ve been busy with school and personal things so i haven’t had that much time until now to write this.

thank you once again anon for sending in a request! it means a lot to know how much you guys like my work.

this isn’t an official part two to the last request post i made, but i will be referencing from it, so make sure that you read it so you know what i’m talking about.

this honestly goes more with the second one rather than the ask itself, but they’re similar, so i added them both.

reblogging/reposting is appreciated, and like this anon here, if you would like to see anything specific, just request since requests/ask ARE OPEN !!

someone commented about the name a while ago, but this was already made, so i might use the name in the next post if i make another post about *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧

remember, this is a LESBIAN post, so MEN & MEN ALIGNED PEOPLE DNI!!

thank you guys all sm for the love and support!! i hope you enjoy this next post, *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY X FEM READER *:･ﾟ✧ !!

it’s been two weeks since the whole “buy me food or else” incident, and ever since then, it’s been like hell. you hated *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧. you hated the way that she purposely targeted you, or the way she made sure that you were alone from everyone else so that you would have to be by yourself. you hated the fact that you had to personally change your route to school just so she would leave you alone.

you hated *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧, loathed her even, and you were sure that she felt the same way. that is, until she started following you around like she was your own personal bodyguard. instead of bullying you like she used to, she now had a possessive streak.

she no longer targeted you. instead of making you eat alone, you were now forced to eat with her and the rest of the delinquents. you were now forced to sit with her when you two shared a class. you two “coincidentally” started sharing a gym class? now no one wants to be your partner —which is thanks to her— only leaving you with picking *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ as your partner.

you hated it. she went from being the biggest migraine to completely controlling your life. in fact, the change in *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ actions only fueled your hatred more than it was before. you knew you needed to get rid of this version of *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧, and fast. or, at least back to where you two weren’t as close as she tried to force now.

you secretly tried to find a way to get rid of *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ once and for all, or at least tried too. *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ saw all of it, and quite frankly, she thought it was kinda cute. did you really think you would be able to get rid of her? she likes you, and will do anything in her power for you to feel the same way and understand how much love she has for you.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ thought it was funny at first, until she realized that means she failed in giving you an understanding that you were hers. she wanted to love you and protect you. she wanted to cherish you, and if given the chance, provide for you. she failed at letting you know, but there’s nothing money and connections can’t fix, and she has plenty of them.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ first starts harassing your friends into giving her information on what you liked. the ones who did got things in return, like getting full marks for the month or being ranked top 10 in the school. the others who decided to keep their mouths shut while *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ was being nice? they were either pulled from their sports and clubs, or purposely given bad grades unless they gave up information. the ones who still wouldn’t let up were given a talking to by some of *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧’s other “friends”.

a couple of people dropped you while others looked at you in disgust. you were shocked and confused. you didn’t know what happened, or what got your friends to act like this until you realized that this must be one of *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ doings.

honestly? you were embarrassed and blue. why would she do this? what did you do that was so terrible that not only did she bully you and force you to buy her food, but now she decided to alienate your friends from you? you had enough. you decided you were going to confront her right after the day was over with.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ locked herself in the bathroom. after getting information from your friends, she personally dressed herself to make sure that she was your exact type. she wanted you to blush the second you saw her, for you to look at her and get all coy the way she does —internally— with you. after finding out you liked people with curls, she went to the salon that exact day to make sure it was perfect.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ had on a black compression shirt, outlining her muscles. she knew you had a thing for them, and wanting to show them off so she could prove to you that she was strong and could take care of you if needed. she was nervous. so far, she’s done a 180. it might come as a surprise to you, but she genuinely wants you to know and see how much she wants you.

once *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ believes that she looks good, she grabs the bouquet of red roses and her gift bag of a necklace that she knows that you’ve been eyeing. she hopes that you don’t reject her.

after all, she’s *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧, there’s no way you could reject her. sure, she would be upset, but she knows deep down that you love her. you rejecting her —if you do— just means that she has to try again until she gets it right.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ walks down the hallway with her head held high. she’s confident, and gotten rid of everything that might ruin what could come true.

you on the other hand are a complete opposite from how *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ is feeling. anger is pulsing through your veins, and you can’t wait to see her so you can demand answers on why she did what she did.

you walk down the hallway and see *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧. while she has a mixture of happiness and being flustered on her face, you on the other hand mismatch her energy. *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ can see it, and her mood immediately changes.

“*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧, get over here, now. let’s talk.” you leave no room for argument, anger clear as day in your voice.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ follows behind you silently like a kicked puppy. she’s usually angry, cold, and walks around with an “i don’t care” attitude. yet here she was, wondering what it was that she did that make you talk to her that way.

you lead *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ to an empty classroom. after she walks in you shut the door behind you. “sit. we’re going to talk and you will explain yourself. i don’t care if you want to or you “don’t care”, but we’re not leaving this room until you say something.”

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ does as you say. she sits down, and waits for you to speak, which is a first for you. you look at *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧. the sight of her makes you sick and angry to your core, but you wanted answers, no matter how rough the situation might go.

you may want answers from her, but after all, she’s a bully. you two are alone, and if she wanted to, she could beat you up and leave you the classroom in pain. you think about how to go about it without making something wild like that a possibility. you begin to tear up. all the emotions you’ve been holding back begin to crumble. your walls are beginning to break, and the reality of the situation finally hits you. the woman in front of you purposefully bullied and targeted friends and people you knew, and for what? a bouquet of roses? a necklace?

you don’t say anything at first, but eventually you feel your eyes water, which turns into tears running down your cheeks. you may look like a crybaby right now, but you don’t dare to wipe them. you want *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ to know exactly how much pain and heartbreak she has caused you.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧’s heart breaks at the sight of your tears. she’s never wanted to cause you this much pain. the fact that your crying over her actions makes her want to take her anger out on someone. she made you cry, which makes her feel like an ass. *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ may act like a bully and that she doesn’t care about anyone or anything, but the sight of you crying is making her feel something she hasn’t felt in a long time:

guilt.

she doesn’t say anything, but looks bewildered when you say something. *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ lifts her head up, asking for you to repeat yourself.

“i said, why.” a sob comes out of your throat, but quickly switches to anger. “WHY. WHAT HAVE I DONE TO YOU THAT HAS MADE YOU LIKE THIS.” you shout. “WHAT HAVE I DONE TO YOU THAT HAS MADE YOU TARGET ME.”

it was the first time *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ has seen you show an ounce of actual emotion. the question catches her off guard, and all she can do is muster out a “what?”

“stop acting dumb.” you sneer. “everyday when i come to school you’re right in my face, picking on what i’m wearing. when it’s lunchtime, you purposely drag me to your table, even when you know i don’t want anything to do with you or your other delinquent friends. you then target my friends and bully them, for what? a gift? and you think that a twenty dollar bouquet of roses and a necklace will make up for everything you’ve done?”

“w-what? no! that’s not why i did it.” *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ banters, or at least tries to. “you have it all wrong. please, let me explain.” *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ gives you a pleading look, and the only thing you can do is agree in response.

“fine. that’s why we’re here, aren’t we? explain yourself.”

“okay. it was like that in the beginning. i did hate you. i hated the fact that you acted so nice, even when people gave you a look that meant that they hated you, and i know you could see it too. i hated how you smiled to everyone. i hated how you had a calming vibe and for once in my life, you were a person that didn’t make me immediately hate them. while i was hating you, i didn’t realized that i loved you, and because i didn’t understand that feeling, i took it out on you.”

by now, *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ is on the verge of tears herself. “stop crying. you have no reason to cry. you were purposely rude just because you could be.” the look you gave *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ was full of disgust and shame. instead of acting like she didn’t care, she switches up, grabbing your wrist desperately. “please! i’m sorry! please, give me a chance! i know you don’t believe me but at least let me at least prove it to you.”

before you could say something to combat her, she shoves the roses in your hands. “please, give me a chance to prove to you that i don’t actually hate you. i want to let you know that i’m truly sorry.” before you can say anything, *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ gives you a peck on the cheek and walks out of the classroom.

at first you didn’t believe her, but *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ kept true to her word. she’s a delinquent after all, so when it came to your friends, she could care less. but with you? *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ changed up her whole act. it began with her giving you a small smile before you walked through the door. she would look at you lovingly if you walked past her.

as for the gifts, she brought you one each day. the first day, it was a pair of earrings from a store you liked. the second day, it was a coat from a store you were window shopping at. each day it was something you longed for, or it was something little that showed you that she was paying attention to you.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ has become desperate. she had been bringing you gifts, smiling at you, and even staring at you. she was beginning to think it didn’t work until you grabbed her hand, leading her towards the classroom you took her to two weeks prior.

“I don’t forgive you, at all. what you did has hurt me, angered me, and irritated me. you still have a lot to make up for if you want me to forgive you.”

“i understand.” *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ says. “i’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if that means that you’ll forgive me.”

you stand on your tippy toes, reaching towards *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧’s lips, giving her a kiss. “thank you for the gifts. i appreciated them.”

you look away shyly before pulling away, or at least try to. before you can pull away, *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ grabs your arm harshly, smashing her lips onto yours. she grabs your waist, pulling you as close to her as you physically can. she grabs your arms and puts them on her neck, kissing your jaw and your cheeks before going back to your lips, kissing them once more. *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ rubs the sides of your waist, asking to put her tongue inside your mouth.

you grant it, and for what seems like forever, the two of you have a make-out session that makes it feel like you two are in your own world. *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ moves forward, almost demanding more. your tongues move in a frenzy, and while you hate to admit it, you’re enjoying the kiss yourself. you rake your hands through *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧’s hair, which makes her moan into the kiss.

your let go to break for air and stare at *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧. you look at her before she grabs you in her arms, hugging you like a lover. “don’t worry. i’ll make it where you’ll see my actions and immediately know it’s love instead of doubt.”

“i’ll know it when i see it.” you scoff. outside, there was someone that saw your make-out session. you didn’t see it, but *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ surely did. she looked at that person with a haunting look in her eyes, almost daring them to try and fuck with her.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ was happy that you accepted her. you may not have accepted her fully, but it was a start. maybe you should’ve went with your instincts and removed her from your life forever. *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ had just gotten a taste of you, and she was already addicted. now that she had you in her arms, she was never letting go.

you were hers.

forever.

*✧*:･ﾟ✧ *✧*:･ﾟ✧ *✧*:･ﾟ✧ *✧*:･ﾟ✧ *✧*:･ﾟ✧ *✧*:･ﾟ✧ *✧*:

*✧*:･ﾟ✧ *✧*:･ﾟ✧ *✧*:･ﾟ✧ *✧*:･ﾟ✧ *✧*:･ﾟ✧ *✧*:･ﾟ✧ *✧*

this idea was made and created by @moniibu. all rights reserved to @moniibu, and you are NOT allowed to steal, copy, or translate this work.

January 2024.

#lesbian #moniibu #soft yandere #yandere #yandere female x female reader #yandere wlw #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere drabble #requests are open #yandere fem bully #yandere delinquent x reader #rich yandere #yandere female #long reads

[epinebleue]

love me now (m) | 02

(Gif credit)

in which you have to babysit your niece.

pairing: johnny suh x reader (female)

genre: established relationship!au, mature.

warnings: explicit sexual content, unprotected sex (reader’s on the pill), mention of post-partum depression.

chapter index

Ever since your sister gave birth, she hasn’t known rest.

Witnessing her go through pregnancy, labor, and postpartum depression had been simply heartbreaking. She’s living proof that motherhood is indeed difficult: the bags under her eyes are very telling.

So, when her husband asks you to babysit your niece to take her on a trip for her birthday, you accept right away.

On a Friday at seven in the morning, your sister gets in the guest room. She wakes you up, telling you they’re already leaving. You get up slowly, trying not to wake Johnny up. Luckily for you, he’s a heavy sleeper.

Your brother-in-law leaves their suitcases by the door as your sister hands you the keys to their house, teary-eyed.

“I can’t believe I’m abandoning my baby.”

“You’re not abandoning her. It’s just four days, she’ll be okay. You’re the one who needs attention and love right now.”

Your sister ends up nodding because she really needs some time away from dirty diapers and baby talk. You tightly hug them both and watch them leave, wishing for a safe trip and closing the main door once they disappear in the elevator at the end of the hallway.

You tiptoe back to your room, noticing that Johnny changed his position while you were gone. He’s lying on his stomach, hugging the pillow. It gives you a great view of his muscular back.

The gym is surely paying off.

You slip back in bed, and upon sensing movement, Johnny rolls over. Something in your stomach turns when you hear his raspy voice, his breath fanning your neck, giving you goosebumps.

“They left?”

He holds your waist to pull you in, satisfied once your back touches his bare, warm chest. You hum and nod, finding comfort in his embrace. You close your eyes, ready to drift away for a few more hours, or until your niece decides it’s been enough.

Your boyfriend, however, has other plans.

You snap your eyes open when Johnny presses his boner against your ass.

“Oh my God, Johnny!” You chuckle, slapping the hand that is trying to sneak inside your pajama pants. “There’s a baby in the next room.”

“Then keep it low.”

“Are you serious right now?”

“What?”

Johnny successfully shoves his hand inside your pants on the second try.

“You’re unbelievable.”

He collects your arousal, clicking his tongue at the feeling. You squirm against his body, knowing that his morning voice has affected you more than you care to admit.

“And I haven’t even touched you.”

You can’t see him, but you know there’s a smile on his face as he teases your entrance with his fingers.

“You’re in no position to make fun of me.” You protest, pushing your hips back out of the blue.

“At least I’m not trying to hide it.”

“Shut up.”

Johnny pushes a finger into you, making you hold your breath and close your eyes. He doesn’t wait long before adding a second one, pulling them in and out slowly. It makes you move against them, craving more.

You try hard to be quiet, biting your lower lip to stop yourself from moaning too loudly, but your boyfriend’s fingers are so long and they stretch you so deliciously, reaching all the right places. He rubs himself against your ass again, as if fucking you from behind.

It’s no surprise that you moan louder than you should, forcing Johnny to put his free hand over your mouth.

He shushes you, his lips brushing your ear, voice so deep and low that he has you clenching around his fingers. “We don’t want to wake the baby.”

You’re a few pumps away from your orgasm, and judging by how Johnny moves his hips, he’s close as well. Something inside you tells you that you should be ashamed of coming so fast, but honestly, who cares? Finishing soon simply probes how skilled Johnny is, and how good he makes you feel.

But Johnny loves edging, so he pulls out his fingers last second. A protest dies in your throat the moment you feel him take off his clothes, ordering you to do the same. Of course, you comply immediately.

Your boyfriend gets on top of you, supporting his weight with his forearms to avoid crashing you. You kiss him desperately, lifting your hips, craving to be full again. And he seems to take the hint, grabbing his length and teasing your entrance before pushing into you.

Your arms find their way around his neck to bring him down and kiss him again as he moves, slowly. There’s something addictive in Johnny’s lips. They’re so soft, so warm. You could spend the rest of your lifetime kissing them.

You move your hips along the rhythm Johnny sets, feeling him go further. He muffles your moans with his mouth, swallowing each one of them.

Having been so close before, you know you won’t last long as your walls tighten around his length again. Hopefully, he won’t stop this time.

The pace quickens as Johnny fucks you into the mattress. You’re seconds away from your so-longed-for orgasm, the familiar knot in your stomach about to burst.

And then, you hear a cry in the distance.

Johnny pulls out in the blink of an eye, leaving an uncomfortable emptiness behind. Your high dissipates as you whine and lift the sheets, putting on your underwear and pants to run towards your niece’s bedroom.

Thick tears are falling down her chubby cheeks as she grips the edge of the cradle, her hair messy. Her hands go up the moment you appear, begging you to pick her up. You press her close to your chest, bouncing her little body and patting her back softly, comforting her.

You grab the plush red dragon that you bought when she was born from the toy trunk., shaking it in front of her face in hopes that it’ll make her stop crying. It works, so you give her the toy and walk back to the room, passing by the bathroom on the way, where Johnny’s washing his hands.

“She must be hungry.” You sit on the bed, sitting your niece in the center of the mattress. She plays with the toy, tears already gone, and makes a sound when Johnny enters the room. When he sits on the edge of the bed, she crawls on all fours in his direction. Johnny opens his arms and holds her when she gets to him.

Your niece loves Johnny, all children do; he’s like a kid magnet. You can’t help but think how an amazing father Johnny would be while you watch them play together. And how hot he looks when around kids.

Your maternal instinct has you drooling over him.

“Can you stop eating me with your eyes?” He says, a cocky smile on his face, holding the baby’s hands as she stands.

“I’m sorry.” There’s no sign of regret in your voice, though. “But you look really sexy right now.”

“Chill, woman. There’s a baby right here.”

“You didn’t care about that five minutes ago.”

Johnny’s too invested in playing with your niece to even think of a proper comeback, so you decide it’s time for breakfast. Johnny follows you to the kitchen, carrying your niece in his arms, giggling as he rubs his nose against hers.

Taking a look at the cabinets, you decide to make some coffee and toast. You set the coffee pot on the ceramic hob and wait for the water to boil.

In the meantime, you prepare some formula for your niece. You’ve seen your sister do it several times, so it comes out naturally. Johnny has sat your niece on her highchair, by his side. You give her the bottle, and she immediately shoves the nipple in her mouth, sucking.

Johnny looks at her in awe, caressing her soft hair.

“She’s so cute.” He says, speaking in a baby voice.

“I’m jealous.” You pout. “What about me?”

Johnny shrugs. “You’re okay, I guess.”

Johnny lets out a loud laugh at your open mouth. You turn around, deeply offended, but he grabs your wrist and pulls you closer to him. You try to fight him, even though you know that Johnny is stronger than you are. Your niece observes everything from her seat, drinking her milk, unbothered.

You spend the rest of the morning watching TV, playing with the baby, and Facetiming your sister.

Johnny will prepare lunch as you feed the baby. Your sister has told you what she has to eat, so you pick up a jar of baby food from the cupboard beside the fridge. Johnny notices your face of utter disgust, and it makes him laugh.

“What?”

“This looks awful, what the fuck?” A wave of guilt washes over your body. “How can this mashed green thing possibly taste good?”

You open it to smell it for a second before pulling it away, faking a gag.

“You’re so dramatic. I bet it’s not that bad.” Johnny takes the jar from you and copies your actions. He doesn’t gag, but by the way he frowns, you can tell that he thinks the same. “Right, I'll take it back.”

“I wonder what it tastes like.”

“Try it.” Johnny grabs a spoon and sinks the tip into the jar.

You shake your head, taking a step back when he approaches you, spoon up. 

“Absolutely not.”

“I’ll give you twenty bucks if you eat this.”

You laugh, half in disbelief, half in distress. “Are you trying to blackmail me for real?”

“Thirty.”

“John!”

“Come on, don’t be a coward.”

Johnny insists, bringing the spoon closer to your face, which you try to block with your hands.

“I’ll fucking fight you, Johnny, I swear!”

“I’d love to see you try.”

You open your mouth, about to defend yourself, and Johnny takes advantage of it to shove the spoon in your mouth. He runs away, laughing at how your face twists in disgust. 

How can your sister feed this to her daughter? How can your niece like it?

Johnny leaves the jar and the spoon on the kitchen countertop the moment you prepare to pounce on him.

“You’re a dead man.”

There’s a struggle as Johnny tries to stop you from twisting your nipples. The kitchen is filled with your niece’s giggles, who witnesses the scene from her highchair, shaking her baby teether.

In the afternoon, you go for a walk in the park. On your way, you stop to take pictures of every single tree you see, Johnny patiently waiting for you a few steps away, holding the handles of the baby’s cart.

Autumn has painted New York red, orange, and yellow; it has covered the streets with crunchy leaves, making it feel as if you were inside a rom-com.

Johnny has a blast playing with your niece, looking at her with adoring eyes. You lose count of how many pictures and videos you take of them.

Sitting on a park bench, observing them while you sip on your warm coffee, you realize that Johnny’s definitely the one. You’ve thought of it in the years you’ve been together, but you have never been so sure of it.

Better said, you’ve never been so sure of anything in your life.

The baby is in her crib now, sleeping soundly. With your fingers, you softly caress her cheek. Johnny joins you, hugging you from behind. He kisses the top of your head, and you melt in his arms, resting the back of your head against his chest.

“Look at her little hands.” You whisper, careful not to wake her up. “She’s adorable.”

“I know.”

“Have you ever thought about having kids?”

Johnny sighs deeply before answering, placing his chin on top of your head.

“The idea has crossed my mind, yeah.”

“With me, maybe?”

“You doubted it?” You don’t answer, knowing that Johnny has understood exactly what you meant with that question. Will you love me long enough to have my children? “I even have names in mind.”

His confession makes you turn around, the biggest smile on your face. You swallow the lump in your throat, aware that it would be weird if you started crying then and there.

“Really?” Johnny nods, his arms still around you, holding you close.

“Yeah.” He gives you a short, sweet kiss. “I’ll tell you when the time comes.”

You glance at your niece for the last time before leaving the room. You put your pajamas on and lie in bed. Your body, wasted from the tiring day, welcomes the warm feeling that being under the covers on a cold day gives.

You snuggle by Johnny’s side, his strong arm rounding you. His heartbeat sounds like a lullaby. 

“Sleep well, love.”

Johnny kisses your forehead. In return, you smirk.

“Good night, daddy.”

“Don’t.”

No reposting or translations allowed.

© epinebleue 2023

#johnny smut #nct johnny #nct johnny smut #nct smut #nct fic #johnny suh smut #johnny suh fic #nct johnny fic #johnny imagine #johnny suh #nct fic smut

[andivmg]

another feelings post

sorry in advance for how long it is

had a therapy appointment yesterday and i bawled my eyes out the entire time just feeling angry and sad and confused with myself. because of this whole conversation around abuse and toxic relationships, i’ve been feeling all kinds of weird recently and talked about it with her and i wanted to share some of the things we said in case anybody needs to hear it

so i’ve been really beating myself up over the fact that i’m still upset at things that happened over two years ago and i was feeling really confused as to why. my life has improved infinitely since then, i no longer have any of these people in my life. i am so much happier. so why am i still so angry? why can’t i seem to let go? i was feeling like a little kid, one of the things i said was quote “it’s just not fair! we were together for only a year! how is it fair that it’s taken me two years and counting to get over shit he did in half the time? why does he get to be fine while i’m still in therapy fixing what he broke? like what is wrong with me? why can’t i just let go of shit that happened so long ago? why did i even have to go through that in the first place? it’s just not fair!”

clearly, i was unwell. but yeah i was feeling really angry at myself and as we kept talking we came to the conclusion that it’s okay to be angry. because it’s true. it’s not fair. that’s what happens with abuse, it ends up falling on the person who was on the receiving end of it to pick up the pieces while the perpetrator doesn’t think they did anything wrong in the first place. that is just an unfortunate fact of life. so how do you move on knowing that? you’re just supposed to be okay with it? no. again, it’s okay to be angry and to cry and be upset about it because you’re feeling your emotions and letting it all out. it’s perfectly normal to be upset about what you went through. it does not mean you are still hung up on the person or that you haven’t moved on. it just means that person was really shitty to you and you’re angry about it. it’s okay to be upset. we are human, we are not above feeling any emotion. as long as you are not taking those feelings out on people who love and care about you and want the best for you, be upset. scream into your pillow, cry, break shit (preferably in a rage room). if it’s what you have to do to release that anger, do that. it’s okay.

now then, why do we have to go through that pain in the first place? because it’s part of being human. ik that’s not what anybody wants to hear. it sucks. what do you mean that’s just a part of being human? that’s so unfair. true. it’s not. however, it being a part of life doesn’t make it okay for the other person to have treated you like they did. that does not justify what they said and did. but, what we choose to do afterwards is what defines us, and what will become of us.

the analogy we used was this:

it’s like going to the gym. when you work out, you create microtears in your muscles, that’s why you’re so sore the next day. but when those muscles heal, they become bigger, stronger. and when you do that exercise again, it doesn’t hurt as much and you can handle more. but, if you say “fuck this i’m not going to the gym again because i’m sore the next day and it hurts” then your muscles will become weak again and you’re right back to where you started.

like i said before, it sucks that the responsibility of moving on and becoming stronger or a better person falls onto us. but you still have to face that shit. you have to truly come to terms with the fact that you were emotionally or physically abused and decide what you will do about it now. will you accept this behavior going forward from them or anyone else? how will you react if someone tries to do the same thing this person did? will you fall back into the victim pattern or will you gather your strength to never let this happen to you again?

clearly, this process takes a really long time. it could take, years, months, even decades in some cases. and it’s hard. it’s so difficult to be strong. it is an active choice we have to make every day. and it’s okay if you’re not feeling strong some days. it’s okay to have moments of weakness. but those moments of weakness cannot overshadow all the strength it has taken to come as far as you have. sometimes it will feel like you’re going backwards, but you are not. healing is not linear and that is okay.

much love to anyone who read this whole thing. if even one person reads this and feels understood, then this post has served its purpose.

#therapy thoughts

[sprout-fics]

Tell Me All My Bad Ideas

(Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F! Reader) (Callsign: Fix)

Main Series: Snowblind

Rating: Explicit (MDNI) Wordcount: 4k Tags: Jealous Ghost, Mutual pining, Slowburn, Miscommunication, Minor original characters, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Oral sex (F receiving), Imagining someone else during intercourse, General messy feelings Warnings: Heed the tags A/N: This is a small oneshot that takes place shortly following 'Mayday Mayday'

You’re on the way back from the gym with Gaz when you’re approached. 

Gaz and you chat idly, in step with each other as you head back towards the barracks for much needed showers. There’s a thin film of sweat clinging to both of you as you bump shoulders with familiarity. The post-workout high hasn;t yet worn off from either of you, and you can’t help but preen a little at the new record you’ve set with the bar and Gaz as your spotter. You talk about dull things- the weather, what’s for dinner in the mess, and as Gaz teases you with a juicy bit of gossip he heard from the other side of base, a figure rolls off the wall ahead of you and clears his throat to get your attention.

Gaz’s voice cuts off just as you both pause, eyeing the man with curiosity. You recognize him. He looks different without his full loadout and bandaged arm, but the dusty brown hair and tall, lean stature are familiar. 

“Langley.” You greet, the name coming to you after a moment- the man who you’d helped carry to safety on the clusterfuck of a mission where your heli went down.

“Sergeant.” He greets you with a little cough, and you tilt your head because somehow he looks embarrassed. “A word?”

You glance at Kyle, who levies you a similar intrigued look before patting you on the shoulder and easing past the other sergeant. As he leaves, you see his clever smile hidden behind his water bottle.

“How can I help?” You ask amicably as Kyle vanishes behind the corner. 

Langley is smiling, but it’s evident there’s a little bit of nervousness hesitating behind his gaze. 

“I…wanted to thank you for your work in the field on that mission a few weeks back.” He offers after a small pause. “That was a hard op, and you made some good calls out there- not to mention you probably saved my life.”

“Oh.” You blink, feeling a small warmth at the praise. “I’m just doing my job. Glad we made it back.”

“Right.”

You think that might be the end of it, but Langley doesn’t move. 

“How’s the concussion?” You offer in the awkward pause that follows.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah it’s good.” Langley returns, and his eyes shift before he clears his throat again and focuses on you. “Listen, I…wanted to ask if you had plans this weekend.”

You blink. You blink again.

Oh. This makes sense now.

“I’m…not sure.” You return honestly after a pause. “I might be doing a training session for some of the recruits in field practice, but…” You watch as Langley deflates a bit, his smile wavering but his head still held high. 

“Can I let you know?”

“Yeah, yeah of course.” He offers, bolstered. “And ah, if you need to contact me, here’s my number.” 

You’re handed a small slip of paper with some digits scrawled on it, and hide your inward huff of amusement at the fact that the fellow officer came prepared.

“I’ll let you get to your shower- er, the rest of your day.” He finishes as you’re looking down at it, and eases past you. “See you around.”

His footsteps fade behind you, and you tilt your head in thought down at the phone number, contemplating. 

A date. You think quietly. It’s been a while.

Truth be told, you’re not really interested in dating. Aside from it being a generally bad idea to date your fellow officers, you haven’t found yourself particularly interested in anyone, Langley included. 

Well, that wasn’t entirely true- but the one person who you secretly wished would spend time with you was never going to ask you anyways. 

You sigh at that, tucking the paper into your pocket before resuming your path-

And nearly colliding with Gaz when you round the corner. 

“You nosey little-” You gasp as Gaz steadies you when you stumble, his grin crinkling his eyes. 

“Look at you, madame heartbreaker.’ He interrupts, and oh, he was definitely listening in. The tittle-tattle. “Got sergeant Langley wrapped around your finger, eh?”

You playfully shove at him, feeling your face warm, but you lack the words in which to defend yourself- choosing instead to continue towards the barracks with Gaz trotting behind. 

“Saw the pretty medic and couldn’t help himself.” He goes on, falling in step with your wide stride. “Poor bastard.”

“You think I’m pretty, sergeant?” You blink at Gaz doe-ishly, and Gaz snorts. 

“Not as pretty as me.” He shoots back, eyes twinkling, and that does finally make you laugh. 

“Yeah, you should drop out and work for Calvin Klein.”

“Exactly! Dunno why they haven’t scouted me yet.”

“They’re still developing their ‘desert storm’ collection.”

Kyle barks a laugh at that, which turns into a wheeze as you push the door open to the 141 common area. Soap is lounging on the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table and an arm slung over the back of the couch. He raises an eyebrow at you both as you draw closer. 

“What’re you two ninnies on about?” He asks as Gaz plops down beside him, and wrinkles his nose at the smell of sweat. “You stink.”

Gaz ignores the comment in favor of shooting his mate a grin. “Fix got asked out.” He declares, and Soap’s eyes go wide.

“Yer’ kiddin.”

“Don’t sound that surprised.” You huff, taking the other couch and tipping the rest of your water bottle up. 

“You remember that fellow that came back from the heli-crash all bandaged up and moon-eyed?” Gaz goes on. “Had a bit of a wobbly lip when he got pulled into medical?”

“He did not.” You protest, but it falls on deaf ears. 

“The lad with the eagle tattoo.” Soap supplements smile broadening, and at Gaz’s eager nod; “Aye, what was his name…Langston?”

“Langley.” Gaz corrects. “Who just gave Fix his number and asked her about weekend plans.”

Soap’s eyes light up at that, and you pointedly ignore him in favor of watching whatever daytime television is on the TV. 

“Prolly fell to the ol ‘nurse Joy’ trap.” Gaz goes on, enjoying this far too much. “On the brink of death, getting saved by a beautiful woman and falling head over heels for her.”

“So you do think I’m pretty.” You shoot back, and Gaz laughs again. 

Soap is grinning when he looks at you. “Ye going to take him up on it?” He asks point-blank, and you hesitate. 

“I don’t know.” You sigh, folding your legs under you and getting comfortable. “I’m not really looking for anything right now, and it’s probably a bad idea.”

“What bad idea?”

The three of you turn towards the door, finding the massive frame of Ghost. Christ, you hadn’t even heard him walk up. 

Ghost eyes the three of you suspiciously, eyes dark beneath his simpler skull balaclava that he favors off the field. His voice is low, thick with accent as he awaits an answer. 

“To er…date a fellow officer.” Gaz offers at last, his humor gone as Ghost’s eyes land on him unblinkingly. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Ghost’s fingers twitch. 

Ghost isn’t one for gossip- chatter of any kind for that matter. So you expect him to nod and leave it at that, but instead his eyes narrow just a fraction.

“Who?”

The silence is deafening.

“Langley.” You offer at last, turning fully towards your LT. “He asked me on a date. We’re different departments so it shouldn’t be an issue, but…”

You trail off. Ghost stares at you, eyes unblinking. You feel the weight of them pin you to the spot, and there’s an emotion there you can’t entirely discern. Ghost regards you for a long, long pause before finally tearing his eyes away. 

“Do what you want.” He offers at last, footsteps heavy as he disappears in the direction of his room, the door closing a little harder than usual. 

“...The fook was that about?” Soap asks at last, turning back to you, and your eyes rest on Ghost’s door. There’s something in your chest that aches a little, something you try not to feel but hovers delicately there anyways.

You’re not sure what you expected. You hate to admit it, but you kind of hoped Ghost would offer some sort of disapproval, or a protest, or even agree that it was a bad idea. Something to signal that maybe you shouldn’t be so quick as to give up hope on him. 

Instead the walls separate you, as they always do, and you’re left in the silence. 

“No idea.” You offer quietly, shoulders sinking as the TV drones on, and you trace the falling condensation on the cold edge of your skin. 

- - -

It is a bad idea. 

For whatever reason, you do it anyway.

Friday night has you dressed in civvies, jeans, boots, a somewhat nice jacket that doesn’t have bloodstains on it, and you wonder if you should borrow some makeup from one of the other female officers before you dig out an old tube of mascara and decide it's good enough. It’s not like you’re trying, and Langley asked you out after both of you had seen each other covered in blood anyways. 

He’s waiting at the base gate for you, smiles when you approach.

“You look nice.” He offers, and even opens the passenger door for you. It’s a gentlemanly gesture, and you admit you’re charmed by it.

The place you settled on is an Indian restaurant not far from base. It smells like spices as soon as you walk in, and by the time you get to your table your mouth is watering. As far as places go, it’s not white table cloths and fancy silverware, but you find you prefer it that way. 

“So how’d an American end up working with a bunch of Brits?” Langley asks conversationally as you wait for your food. He’s got one leg crossed, an arm slung over the back of his chair. He looks comfortable, or at least succeeds in keeping the appearance of such. 

“It’s a long story.” You offer with a smile. “Might take me all night.”

“Give me the sitrep.” He jokes. 

You give him the short story. Two deployments in the Middle east and Africa, a stint at a covert operations facility stateside, and then being plucked to land on the taskforce. 

“Wait, you’re CIA?” He asks, eyebrows raised. “Thought your sort was more the James Bond type.”

You want to tell him Bond was MI6- the same kind that rubs the wrong way on Ghost with their neverendless paperwork requests, but the sudden thought of the Brit has you pause, eyes softening.

Fortunately your food arrives in time to distract Langley. He pauses before he eats, and you watch with your fork on your way to your mouth the way he bends his head and prays. It surprises you. You didn’t figure him for the religious type, and when he catches you staring he looks a little bashful.

“Old habit.” He offers. “Picked it back up after the crash. Lucky to be alive, y’know? Figured I might as well thank him for it.”

You want to tell him it wasn’t God that saved his life. It was the two dead pilots and your own blood soaked hands that had stopped him from bleeding out.

You keep silent on that too.

You make simple conversation in the way most soldiers do- commiserating about food on base, about schedules, about the menial tasks you still haven’t escaped in officership, and eventually the conversation turns back to home. 

“Yeah my Ma keeps telling me ever since the crash I should go back home.” Langley tells you, rubbing at his neck sheepishly. “Find a nice girl to settle down with, find a job as a contractor or something.”

It’s a familiar story, one you’ve heard a hundred times. A housewife, kids, a suburban home, vacations to Disneyland in the brutal summer heat. An existence you’re in no way suited for. 

“What about you? Your family looking forward to seeing you back?”

You pause, eyes defocusing for a moment as you consider back home with your family, with the pressed linen tablecloths and too pristine kitchen counters.

“I don’t have a family.” You tell him blandly, and ignore the way hurt curls inside your stomach despite all the time that’s passed. 

“Oh.” Langley looks a little deflated. “I didn’t mean to assume. I just-”

“It’s fine.” You interject quickly, forcing a cheerful smile. You don’t tell him that you do in fact have family- just not the one he’s thinking of. The team of men you find yourself in the company of has grown far closer to you than any blood relative you’ve ever known, and you know there will always be a place for you here with them.

Fortunately the conversation moves on, and Langley manages to recover swiftly. By the third round of beers and the check you’re both buzzed and giggly, and you feel his boot gently nudge your leg under the table once, twice, a third time before you catch his eyes. 

Interested.

Something sour pulls inside your gut, a tickle of a warning that you really should listen to. It’s the same feeling you had that night you wandered into the downtown of DC and ended up in the backseat of a cab with a stranger, a whisper of something guilty and selfish for the thing you’ll never have.

It’s a bad idea.

Once again, you do it anyway.

“Getting mighty dark outside.” You comment idly, fluttering your lashes as you idly run a finger over the rim of your drink. 

“Mhm.” Langley hums, tipping the remainder of his beer back. “Might need a friendly escort back to the green zone, huh sergeant?”

You giggle girlishly, feeling the pleasant buzz of alcohol settle low and warm in your veins. “Are you volunteering, sergeant?”

Langley’s eyes sparkle at you. “What if I am?”

“How could I refuse such a kind offer?” You return coyly, tilting your head and flicking your eyes towards the door. It doesn’t take much for him to get the message, as he stands and gestures ahead of him with a respectful “Ma’am.”

Outside, you try not to think of how the starless night reminds you of the midnight where you first saw Ghost’s face.

–

It’s his bunk, you both decide. The privacy at yours is better, being in the 141 officers hallway, but you don’t want to risk running into a member of the team trying to sneak Langley inside. 

So your clothes end up on the floor of his bedroom as you taste the sour scent of beer on his lips, warm breath fogging against your own. 

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty.” He murmurs huskily, hands roaming the swell of your ass beneath your jeans, dragging you closer as his mouth dips to the flesh of your neck. He’s got you pressed against the door, rolling his growing erection sloppily into the slot of your thigh as you work to unbutton his pants.

It feels good, the way his body rocks against yours. You forgot how nice it can feel just to have another body pressed against yours like this, warm and sultry with the growing scent of sex and sweat between you. Langley is clumsy, and you can’t tell if it's from nerves, liquor, or general unfamiliarity of your body. Even so, the low groan he gives you as you cup his length in his briefs is no less unwelcome, your hand nimbly finding the bareness of him and stroking as he huffs in your ear.

“Fuck, just like that. Yeah, that’s good- fuck.”

He rocks into your hands just as he presses his mouth to yours, slotting himself against you as he pushes his tongue inside your mouth- overeager, crude, but scratching an itch inside you that’s long gone unanswered. 

When you close your eyes, you try not to think about the eyes behind the mask that haunts your waking daydreams.

You end up on his bed, his head buried between your thighs as you clutch at the pillows. Langley fucks you sloppy with his tongue, hands gripping your thighs as he hums against your clit. 

“C’mon, c’mon, give it to me.” He pants, straightening to rub crudely at your clit, not really finding it before he goes back to your cunt. 

You’re both quiet. It’s late in the barracks but there’s still a chance of being caught, and you’re not fond of the rumors you might become the subject of if anyone hears you and figures out it’s you in his room. Even so, you force yourself to be just a bit louder, legs clenching even as your orgasm remains a distant thing. 

“Inside-” You slur at him before he can realize he’s not going to get you off. “C’mon, hurry.”

“Fucking drooling for it.” He huffs, sucking a hickey into your inner thigh that has you nearly kick your leg out in reflex. “Alright pretty thing, lemme just-” He crawls up the length of you, distracts you with a kiss as he fumbles inside his bedside table, fishing out a tinfoil packet.

You make a point to wiggle impatiently as he rolls the condom down, and when Langley notices he hums in satisfaction. 

“Yeah, like that do you?” He preens from where he’s seated between your legs, smacking the tip of his length against your clit suddenly, and you jump. He mistakes it for excitement, chuckling, and once more you close your eyes, trying not to imagine someone different where he’s bent over you. 

You make a little sound as he enters you, trying desperately to blot out the sensation of skeleton gloves skimming your bare skin and a low voice purring in your ear. Langley mistakes it for discomfort, slowing himself inside and peppering your cheeks with little kisses to ease the way.

He begins thrusting as soon as you force yourself to relax, groaning low and loud in your ear. The friction is good, needed, and you feel yourself slick and warm around him as he struggles to maintain a rhythm. But it’s sloppy at best, and even as you reach down and try to haul him closer, grinding up against him, it’s not enough. 

“Say my name.” He huffs in your ear, hot breath fanning over your cheek. 

“S-Steven.” You manage, voice low, brow pinched with pleasure. 

“Yeah, yeah that’s it.” Langley encourages, grinding into you and there, just for a moment, and gone again. 

“Steven-” You try again, rocking up into him, trying to get the right angle. “S-”

Simon.

Something pulls taut in your chest and doesn’t let go. You clench at the mere thought of him, gazing up into the ceiling where the vision of his amber gaze stares down at you. Hungry, possessed, utterly absorbed in the defiling of your flesh. You scrunch your vision shut, trying to chase him away, but it’s no use.

“Fuck-” Langley snarls, bucking unevenly into you as you grind up into him. “Are you getting close?”

You open your eyes, stare at the ceiling, and despite yourself you imagine him.

His massive frame bent over you, dark eyes burning down into your skin as he splits you on his cock, voice a low purr murmuring filthy praise in your ear. He hauls you flush against him, fingers entwined with your above your head, bending you to his whim until you go lax and boneless with pleasure in his arms. 

“Fix.”

And suddenly, you’re there, right there on the edge, breath caught in your chest as the sinful phantom of him presses flush against your skin, as the hard edge of the mask presses down into your forehead when you breathe in tandem.

“All mine.” He growls inside your desperate vision. “All fuckin’ mine, Fix.”

You come with a cry, just barely stifling his name, hissing the beginnings of it until it’s a desperate keen behind your teeth. Your cunt clamps down and you feel more than hear Langley grunt in surprise, hips jerking quickly as he chases his climax inside your fluttering walls that grip down hard on him. He thrusts once, twice, three times, body shuddering as a long, low groan pours past his lips and into your throat. 

“Fuck.” He hisses, fucking himself through it, rolling little circles as you come down, chest heaving and eyes fluttering as the vision fades. “Fuck that was good, goddamn-”

He collapses on top of you at last, spent, panting into your sweat slick flesh just as you struggle to find your breath. You toss an arm over your face, if only to shield your eyes from him as you compose yourself- lest he see the truth behind your gaze. 

In the hazy aftermath, Langley straightens off you, regarding your hidden expression dubiously. 

“You alright?” He asks, far too gently for what you deserve. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” You tell him instantly. “No, it was good. Just…” You swallow. “...catching my breath.”

“Oh. Good.” He offers as he rolls off of you, and you watch as he makes his way towards the bathroom, the light flicking on and illuminating the darkness of his bedroom. He comes back with a towel, and rather than offering to wipe you off he drops it beside your hand on the bed. You take it, scrub a little at the inside of your thighs just as you hear him drop the condom in the trash can with a satisfied exhale. 

“Hope you enjoyed that as much as I did.” He tells you, and your chest feels taut still as you offer a murmur of agreement you don’t really feel. “But you should probably get going. Don’t want the MPs to catch us.”

“...Right.” You offer lamely, reaching for your clothes and hastily tugging them on once you’ve deemed yourself clean enough. You’re not really sure what you expected, and frankly you’re fine with a quick exit at this point. The possibility of staying and cuddling with your thoughts as distracted as they are seems ill-advised at best. 

“Hey.” Langley catches your arm as you reach for the door, and he turns you to him, pressing a lingering kiss to your open lips. “I had a good time. Lemme know if you want to do this again, yeah?”

Guilt festers deep and dark inside you, and you swallow it down with a forced, wobbly sort of smile you pray he can’t see in the dark. 

“Thanks Steven, I’ll let you know.” You murmur, and try not to hate yourself for what you’ve done.

The door clicks behind you, and you don’t look back.

–

You don’t expect to see him when you get back to the 141 barracks. 

He’s sprawled comfortably on the couch, the common room dark as the lights of the TV flicker on the white of his mask. He’s got the action movie he’s watching on mute, keeping it quiet for the rest of the team that’s asleep down the hall. When the door to the common room squeaks with your entrance, Ghost looks up just once to notice you.

“Past your curfew, sergeant.” He drawls, and you frown because for some reason he sounds annoyed.

“Put it on my file.” You shoot back, irritated in turn. You think that’s the end of it, passing behind him on the way to your room.

“Told you it was a bad idea.” He comments again just as you pass the couch, and you stop.

It itches under your skin, the need to snap at him in your frustration, in all your guilt and insecurity. You want to ask him why he cares, tell him you can take care of yourself, provoke him into telling you the thing you so desperately desire. 

“Goodnight, Ghost.” You say instead, quiet, defeated.

You walk down the hallway, away from him, and it isn’t until your door is closing behind you that you hear his voice one last time. Oddly gentle, almost apologetic.

“Goodnight, Fix.”

Almost. 

Tag List:

Please reply to or reblog this post with 'taglist' to be tagged in future updates. If you would like to be removed from the taglist, please DM me.

@dankest-farrik @zwiiicnziiix @moondirti @sritashimada @ladiilokii @sandinthemachine @verdandis-blog @guyfieriiii @fan-of-encouragement @starlitnotes @rentaldarling @mockerycrow @atenceladusiaawfytbwb @tinykaka @dumb-djarin @homicidal-slvt @selinn777 @nachtcirce @jujubashow @mutuallimbenclosure @kkinky @trash-boi-4-life @scatter-mind001 @alittlefansthings @allaboutirem0 @keiva1000 @makariaspresence @achelois-is-here @nightingale-ghost-writer @altered-delta @thetimidsarcasticcat @nestaarcheronss @bitchykittenconnoisseur @ghxstyops @whotfislynn @gazs-blue-hat @obi-wansorrow @liltofu99 @thatswhyilovetheghost @devilsfoodcake22 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @hlo-kty @children-of-epiales @definitelyanonymous @queenquazar @alicesfracturedmirror @stillinracooncity @paigetaylor628 @jinxxangel13 @enfppixie @itsnotmyfaultimdifferent @dustycrusty09 @cminoko @caitiecatastrophe

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #fic: snowblind