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#if you look at him for two seconds he will ask if you'd like a plastic bag of potatoes to take home
ffsg0jo · 2 days
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boynextdoor! choso who you've had a mini crush on ever since you saw him move in with his two brothers yuuji and sukuna. yuuji is the 5-year-old who is just the sweetest ray of sunshine, and sukuna (kuna) is the grumpy undergrad whose name you only know because of yuuji's incessant need for 'uppies'. you don't know much about choso, though, except that he's the eldest, is always working to pay for the bills/rent, and is scarcely home.
boynextdoor! choso, who invites you over for dinner a couple of days after moving in to get to know you a little better and introduce him and his family. you notice the lack of parents, but you don’t say anything or bring it to attention, seeing first-hand how hard choso works as you help him with all the dishes he cooked, and as sukuna sets the table. immediately, yuuji is smitten by you (and you, him) constantly trying to get your attention and talking to you about his new friend called gumi, your shared neighbour's son. choso watches you with yuuji in your arms while you're animatedly talking to his baby brother. the genuine interest you show in what yuuji says makes his heart pitter patter.
(sukuna is quiet throughout the whole affair, only speaking when spoken to and even then keeping it prompt, but he notices the way choso looks at you when you're not watching and vice versa. you’re kind, polite, and seemingly loving. you could be good for his older brother; he thinks to himself.)
boynextdoor! choso, who knocked on your door and asked if you wanted him to take the trash outside your door to the big bins since he's throwing out his own as well on the second week they moved in. your face heated up, and you swooned at his thoughtfulness as you shyly nodded, adding if it's not too much trouble for him. ever since then, he's assumed the role of taking out your trash, making sure to dispose of all the rubbish in the appropriate bins. does it make him a little late to work? yes. but the look on your face when he first asked was worth it.
boynextdoor! choso, who secretly tries to find excuses to see you more and more often in his busy schedule. he caught a glimpse of you through your window when first moving in, and he can't get enough of you ever since. whether it's bringing round some 'extra' cookies, he's baked for sukuna and yuuji or asking if you'd like to join them for dinner again. you've never really taken him up on that offer, though, worried about intruding, and he's almost on the verge of begging you, insisting you could never.
boynextdoor! choso who bakes the best cookies and muffins. you're half convinced he's lying to you, and he's just bought them from the local bakery. but you've seen the evidence through the window directly opposite yours, with little yuuji chasing both of his brothers round the kitchen with tiny fistfuls of flour. it's the first time you've seen choso smile so brightly, and something in your heart melts. even sukuna is tame and soft in the presence of his older brother, you've noted.
boynextdoor! choso whose brothers notice the badly hidden crush he has on the cutie next door. (yes, it's gotten so obvious that even little yuuji recognises the fact that big bro really wants to be your friend). he works so hard for them, and he deserves happiness, so it's in his best interest when both knuckleheads (mainly sukuna) put their heads together and start plotting and devising a plan to try and get you both together. they've seen the longing in both of your eyes and are sure it'll work.
boynextdoor! choso who knocks on your door at 4 something am in the morning whilst you're half asleep asking if you could babysit yuuji. his shift starts two hours, and he needs to leave in one, and sukuna is nowhere to be seen. he's so apologetic, and he promises to make it up to you however you want. you see the bags under his eyes and the heart-breaking frown on his face, and you immediately agree. yuuji's a delight anyway, and you'd be more than happy to.
(yuuji is gently woken up by his big bro before he leaves, who explains what's happened. he smiles a wide, sleepy smile and is excited to spend time with you, ready to set his and sukubros plan into motion. but first, he needs another nap and some cuddles.)
(choso is forever grateful for the angel of a brother yuuji is. it balances out sukuna for sure.)
boynextdoor! choso, who seems to talk about you a lot, and how beautiful you are. at least according to yuuji. yuuji says sometimes big bro sees you outside from the kitchen window whilst he's cooking and looks at you with a smile. a smile yuuji's only seen him give to two other people, but other big bro said that choso wants to crush you? he doesn't understand why because you're really lovely to yuuji and to everyone in general and you play with him and let him take pictures on your phone and secretly let him have his dessert with his meal. anyways if big bro tries to crush you, don't worry, you've got yuuji to protect you!
(his words make you blush at the implication as you realise what yuuji means.)
boynextdoor! choso who comes back from his long shift to you and yuuji napping on his couch. he’s exhausted, but the sight of you two together warms his heart, and he suddenly finds himself with bucketloads of energy. he gets started on making dinner for you all whilst you’re napping, and he hopes that you’ll stay this time. halfway through prepping, he hears a door open and a worse for wear sukuna stumbles in with a hard look on his face. quietly, sukuna joins his brother, muttering a small apology and washing his hands before taking over on chopping the onions. the two cook in silence, knowing that sukuna would open up when he’s ready.
boynextdoor! choso who gently nudges you awake when they’re finished cooking. at first, you think you’re dreaming with an angelic looking choso hovering above you. but then you cringe, feeling the drool on your cheek, wiping it away quickly, praying choso never noticed. (he most definitely did, but he found it incredibly endearing). he thanks you profusely and insists on you joining them for dinner. you’re glad you did because there’s just something so sweet about the three brothers interacting with each other. even sukuna lightly jokes around and teases little yuuji at the dinner table, trying to get him to eat all his veggies.
boynextdoor! choso, who keeps trying to pay you for looking after yuuji when you’re about to leave. you refuse knowing that his family needs it more, plus you’re more than happy to look after yuuji, he’s an angel. choso still insists, adamant on paying you and only shuts up when you tell choso to take you out on date instead, emboldened by everything yuuji’s told you. choso short circuits, blushing furiously. he nods, unable to form words, and stutters out an ‘i’ll text you’. you turn around and leave, and choso is still rooted to the spot, replaying your words in his head. it’s only when he’s giggling and kicking his legs in bed that he suddenly realises he doesn’t have your number. oh well, it’s just another excuse to see you then.
(sukuna witnesses the whole thing and is lowkey mad because he spent all that time planning and plotting for no reason. he hears choso’s giggles through the thin walls, though, and fights back a smile. to hell with his plans.)
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© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.
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eupheme · 3 days
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— common ground [into the fire, part iii]
part i | part ii | masterlist
cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader
rated e - 4k
tags: dubcon, power dynamics, vault dweller!reader, bounty hunting, pwp, sex for favors, 1 spank, sub/dom elements, light degradation, use of chems, shotgunning chems, riding, PiV, canon-typical violence and death
a/n: the scene where he complained about doing all the work had me like 👀 (reimagining), so here we go! 💖
“S’that right? Need me to fuck you? Fill up that greedy little cunt?”
His head tipping back as he hums, as if disappointed. Each word exaggerated, with his slow drawl, “Well, I’d sure like to sweetheart… but it seems to me like I’ve been doing an awful lot of work around here.”
“Findin’ this place. Cleanin’ it out. Gettin’ you clothes.” A sigh, before his voice drops, “Makin’ you come.”
“Think you oughta return the favor, don’t you?”
(Or - you take the Ghoul for a ride)
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"Fuck!”
You crouch outside as another loud shotgun blast fires - the wooden door next to you peppering with bullets.
This wasn't what you had in mind.
You had thought you'd find a chem station in the next town. A pharmacy, an old hospital. Something somewhat respectable - not standing watch as the Ghoul blew his way through a long-abandoned two-story home.
The layered yelling dies off with each pull of his trigger, until everything going silent.
He finds you there a moment later, still curled in on yourself. A roll of his eyes when he sees you - still unused to the violence.
"It's clear." The Ghoul beckons, "Let's find that station."
You follow him inside, your gaze boring a hole into his back. Trying hard not to look down, nose wrinkling when you almost trip over a set of legs that sprawl across the floor.
A hand pinches at your elbow, keeping you upright.
"What?" He asks, at your expression.
"Did you have to..." You start, as he checks down the hallway.
It's empty - the doors leading to two bedrooms. The bed frames bare and rusted, the rooms already picked through.
A shrug, "They shot first."
"You goaded them."
You could hear him, even from outside. That knowing tone - some kind of warning. A rough laugh, and then the firefight had started.
"We're looking for a chem station, sweetheart." He scoffs, head cocking as he backs you up against the door he just closed, "Think they're gonna share with you like you’re on a goddamn play date?"
"They-" You blink up at him, "They might have."
He clicks his tongue, giving you a long look,"You still got a lot to learn, Vaultie."
A second, before he steps away.
"These weren't those kind of people."
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You find it in the basement. A man slumped just outside the cracked-open door, the weathered lab coat stained and splattered red on the left-hand side.
Anything salvageable from above must have been brought down here. Three threadbare mattresses behind a makeshift wall. A long couch that faces a television that still runs, the picture blurry with static.
The station sits along the back wall. A beaker still bubbles over the burner, the smell acrid. Bottles litter the surface - something being made in a batch.
Your mind is already racing ahead, eyes scanning for things you'll need. Too-large gloves shoved on, disposing of the burnt mixture while you search for an empty glass.
Missing how he angles the couch to watch, feet propped up on the wooden coffee table. That ever-steady wariness waning with your focus, the tension in his shoulders easing as he sinks into the cushion.
You're too busy to notice. Sorting the different ingredients, littered across the counter.
There's an excess of toxic soot flowers, their petals papery between your fingers. Opened packages of Med-X, a spilled pile of Buffout. A jar of acid.  
Psycho. Cut with something else, something stronger. You think the Ghoul was right - maybe you had been foolish to underestimate them.
You try to shake the thought away, as you gather what you need. Antiseptic, from your own bag. Three jars of glowing fungus, found beneath the sagging counter. Ground up and tipped into a dusty beaker, the heat turned down low.
"Can you get me some water?" You call from over your shoulder, a jar held in your hand.
There's no answer. Silence, until something hard presses into your back, pinning you against the table.
It feels familiar, the way his hips nudge against yours, and it sends your mind back. An urge to arch - bend low. Mimicking the days before, where you can still feel the twinge of him with the stretch of your thighs.
"You think you're callin' the shots now, sweetheart?" His voice is low, the brim of his hat brushing your head as he leans over your shoulder.
"No," You squeak - caught off-guard, "I just-, I can't leave this until it thickens."
"Mm.” His hum is low. “Too bad. Would've liked to see you try.”
Heat blooms in your cheeks at his words, that rough drawl, even after the last couple days. A thin layer of suggestion in his tone, as he shifts closer - his chest bumping into your back.
Your mind flickering through possibilities, before his voice cuts through.
“Said you need water?”
"Yes. Please," The nod you give is small - you have to start your stirring over, losing your rhythm, "I saw a few cartons in the kitchen. If you don't mind."
"Polite little thing, when you're distracted," He husks, "I'll have to remember that."
The Ghoul makes no effort to move, though. Fingers wrapping around the glass. His other hand gripping the edge of the table, boxing you in. You wonder if he can hear the way your heart thuds in your chest, eyes fixed firmly on your work.
“Where’d you learn to do this?”
It takes you a second to answer - he’d had never offered many questions. Responses that were no more than a couple of words, over the stretch of long hours on the road.
“Uh, my Vault. We were short on hands, my mother was a chemist.” Your words are slow - a still-painful topic, “Used to make all kinds of stuff. Medicine and… and chems, alike.”
People who left were always brought back. Dazed and half-sick from the world above, whatever they had seen. Left at your doorstep to be patched up, if they made it that long.
You always told yourself that wouldn’t be you.
That when you were gone, you’d stay that way.
“Hm.” His tone flattens, “Wouldn’t have guessed. Don’t seem the type.”
“Yeah?” You head turns, catching his shadowed ones. Leaning into the welcome diversion, “What type do I seem like, then?”
The Ghoul’s eyes narrow, an unconscious flick down to your mouth.
“Trouble.” He husks, with a shallow roll of his hips. You can’t help the short inhale that he’s certain to hear, the way your fingers tighten around your instruments.
“Though I’m still workin’ out what kind.”
It’s there that he leaves you. Flustered and silently revisiting evenings before, a familiar anticipation curling low inside you.
The steps creak behind you as he slips upstairs. Returning some time later with what you need - twirling a dented pot found in the kitchen, so you can purify it. Folding himself onto the couch when you tell him it will be a while.
A cut glass decanter salvaged as well, that he drinks directly from. A rough gasp as the bitter alcohol floods through him. Helping himself to the chems that litter the tabletop - before his feet kick up, the hat tipped low over his face.
You think he does rest - a rarity.
You examine him then - as you wait for the water to boil, and then cool, before you can use it to mix with the other components.
Taking the rare chance to do it freely.
In the Wasteland you’ve learned to stay cautious. That you can’t fall behind. That surely he would notice, if your gaze lingered on him for too long.
But here, time seems to slow for a moment. Nothing to do but wait, as your fingers drift to your neck. Pressing into the bruise, as if you could feel the indents of his teeth.
His presence feels the same.
A mark left on you. Something you can’t help but want to touch, even if it aches. A reminder that lingers, and there’s a part of you that wishes it would stay.
It has you wondering, as your eyes sweep across him. Over the long-faded clothes, hiding rough and reddened skin - every inch of him wrapped away.
If you got close enough-
Would you find that he bore a mark of his own?
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You make enough for a little over two weeks. Carefully poured and sealed into a variety of small bottles and tubes you’ve scavenged, scraping out every last bit that you can.
In the less-than-stellar conditions, it didn’t turn out so bad. The vials you had seen him buy was a thin, piss-yellow that had made you cringe. Poor work to begin with, and that was even before it was cut with more water.
What you offer out to him is thick - a sheen clinging to the glass as it sloshes, when it passes from your hand to his.
Liquid gold, in comparison.
“Mm.” The Ghoul hums - eyes greedy, as he examines, holding it up to the bit of light.
Before they’re focusing on you. Flickering from head to toe - considering - before his legs spread a bit wider. A hand clapping down against a thigh.
The look you give him is blank. A squeak when his fingers hook around one of your belt loops and pulls - hauling you onto his lap.
“You think I’m just gonna take somethin’ you cooked up?” His brow lifts, hands pinching against your hips, “Not a chance, sweetie. I think we oughta try this together.”
The Ghoul’s fingers slip up then, rucking up the hem of your shirt. His tone turning knowing.
“And I don’t think you’ve got enough in you.”
Your cheeks burn at his insinuation. More than aware, your breath catching as the rough tips of his leather gloves drag across your skin.
“Bet I’ve been leakin’ out of you since last time.” The Ghoul rasps, “Wouldn’t want to waste this, would we?”
He’s solid beneath you. Your thighs splitting on either side of his waist, knees digging into old cushions. Close enough to kiss - if you weren’t so certain he’d bite.
Lost though, on how to proceed. You don’t know the rules to his game. Always keeping you at arms-length - wrists bound, caught in his grip.
Would he let you touch him?
He mistakes your hesitance, his brow pinching.
“Spent enough time starin’. Lookin’ like you wanted to take a ride.” Acid slips into his tone, teeth bared, “Change your mind, now you’ve got a front row seat?”
That knocks you out of your thoughts - embarrassed that you were caught staring at him. Annoyed by his assumption. A scoff, as your hips start to move, a slow roll. Hands coming up to rest against his shoulders, meeting his eyes.
They’re pretty, like the rest of him. Shades of light brown - looking like they’re caught the sun, even underground. Thick lashes, above the deep hollow of sunken eye sockets, the split cavern of his missing nose.
Something that had startled you, the first time you saw him. Now, you hardly even notice. And his mouth -
“I’m not scared of you.” You murmur, watching the way his lip curls in a sneer. A soft sound bitten back as you grind down, feeling how he’s stiff beneath you.
You wonder how long he’s been this way. Hard, from watching you work. Waiting.
Another exchange, though you wish you could tell him it doesn’t have to be that way. You had meant what you said, when you had made your offer - even if you mean it a little differently, now.
Maybe you still could.
“You should be,” The Ghoul growls - hands ghosting over your sides, up to the thin cotton, “If you had any goddamn sense. Letting me touch you like this-”
A hand is cupping your breast now. A hard swipe of his thumb against your stiff peak, your fingers biting down into his jacket.
Your hips jerk against his. A soft moan, when the seam of your pants catches against your clit - leaving you clenching around nothing.
“I want you to.” You confess - catching the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head, “Told you, whatever you want.”
The Ghoul makes a rough sound in his throat, watching as you tug the cups down to fit beneath your breasts, putting yourself on display for him.
“Haven’t learned, have you?” He warns, his voice low, “Don’t make an offer you can’t follow through on.”
The pinch of his fingers sends an ache down to settle between your thighs, the hint of pain pairing with your pleasure.
Your own hand wandering, wanting to see more. Sliding against a leather vest, the stained shirt beneath that was once as blue as your suit. Frayed, looping embroidery on the faded collar.
Feeling the warmth of his skin as you tug at the snap at his throat. An inch, and then another, before he’s catching your hand.
Dragging it up to his shoulders, fixing you with a look, “You best keep those right here.”
“You don’t want me to touch you?” You ask, eyes flicking down to the peek of skin at his throat.
“I want these off.” He tells you instead, snapping the waistband of your pants against skin.
You have to leave him to do it. Watching the way his arms stretch across the back of the sofa, as you kick the pants off, then your underwear beneath.
Bare again, as you settle. Fitting yourself against the curve of his cock. Leather and metal kissing your skin as you move against him, until his lips are parted with a ragged breath.
You can feel your muscles clench. The slick slide of your pussy against his bulge, barely nudging at that deep-seated ache to be filled.
“Makin’ a mess, sweetheart.” He husks, his hips lifting to meet yours. Gloved hands moving to curl around your waist - pulling you down to meet him, coaxing a lazy rhythm from you.
“Rubbin’ up against me like a bitch in heat. Should make you clean that up.”
It coaxes a whine from you, as you let him move you. The sound does something to you - the layered approval in his tone, the low rasp of his voice. Not so unaffected as he seems, with how hard he is beneath you.
He must see it in your expression, a hand leaving the couch to grasp at your chin. Flexing up and into you, letting you feel the hard ridge of him.
“This what you want, sweetheart?”
Making you meet his gaze, as you answer. All dark eyes and the flash of teeth, under the brim of his hat.
“Yes.” You keen, “I need you, please-”
“S’that right? Need me to fuck you? Fill up that greedy little cunt?”
His head tipping back as he hums, as if disappointed. Each word exaggerated, with his slow drawl, “Well, I’d sure like to sweetheart… but it seems to me like I’ve been doing an awful lot of work around here.”
The hand leaves your chin to drop down. Slowly loosening a belt buckle, letting it pool on the cushions. Your cheeks heating when you see the slick shine to the front of his pants, where you’ve rutted yourself against him.
“Findin’ this place. Cleanin’ it out,” His eyes are on yours - your breath short as he tugs the zipper down. “Gettin’ you clothes.”
A sigh, before his voice drops, “Makin’ you come.”
You moan at that, a soft sound caught behind your teeth - fingers pinching into his shoulders.
Waiting for him to draw his cock out - fist wrapped around the base. Flushed and thick in his palm, inches away from where you need him.
The Ghoul does grin then, a wicked thing that shows his teeth.
“Think you oughta return the favor, don’t you?”
He’s giving you an inch - seeing if you’ll try to take a mile. A firm handle, still wrapped around a fist, but loosening the reins.
Letting himself watch.
“Seems fair.” You manage, breathless.
“Then go on,” He husks, “Show me how you can take it.”
Your hand reaches down, but then he’s clicking his tongue - fingers fixing back on his shoulders.
Leaving you to lift your hips. His cock slipping against your slick core, your teeth biting into your lip as you line yourself up - the rough head catching at your entrance.
It’s different this time. Sinking down on him, feeling each inch as it splits you open - instead of suddenly filling you to the hilt.
“Fuck,” You sigh, with the stretch. It twinges deep inside you, where his hips fit against yours.
Lifting yourself only to sink back down, his arms flexing beneath his coat as he lets you ride him, your pace slowly picking up until you’re bouncing on his cock.
As much as you enjoyed last time, there was something about this. Fully able to watch the way his lips part, hear the rattling groan when you tighten around him.
See the way his eyes skate across the bruise on your neck, only to drop down to watch the sway of your tits as your fingers lace behind his neck.
“Goddamn, sweetheart.” His hand flattens against the small of your back. The other gripping your hip, tugging you towards him, “You sure know how to ride.”
Not giving you time to answer, before his head is dipping. The brim of his hat knocking back when it hits your chin - the tips of your fingers just catching it. Slipping it on your own head for safekeeping before he can protest.
It earns you a sharp nip against the curve of your breast, before his lips close around the tight peak of a nipple and sucks.
You cry out, chasing the pressure that builds in your belly. Growing even more wet with the slick swirl of his tongue and the scrape of teeth - his cock grinding against a spongy spot inside you as you arch into his mouth.
“Please,” You whine, fingers flexing and then curling. Needing more friction against your clit, where your heartbeat has dropped and settled.
Trying so hard to listen, a whine between your gritted teeth. Your tits glossy with spit when he leans back, giving you a knowing look.
“You wanna come?” He husks - his eyes dropping, as you nod, “Only if you lean back and show me, sweetheart.”
Relief sings in you, as you adjust. Thighs spreading, as you grip onto his shoulder. Leaning back until he can watch the way he spears into you. How he shines, all slicked up, with each roll of your hips.
Your other hand loses its grip in his coat to slip down, press where your bodies meet.
Fingertips circle, a low moan at the much-needed touch. Your rhythm grows sloppy until his hands hook beneath your thighs. Guiding you into a harsh rhythm, each pound of his cock winding you higher and higher as the couch creaks beneath you.
“Come on, cowpoke.” He rasps, his hand cracking down against your ass, “Is that the best you can do?”
It builds - your fingers pressing harder against the slick bud. Whimpered noises that are more sound than words, as his thighs spread, feet planting so he can drive up into you.
“I said come on.” He growls, “Wanna feel you come on my cock again.”
Like before, it feels like the control slips through your fingers. Your own touch brings you close to that edge, but it’s the pounding of his cock that makes you fall.
Your back arching, crying out as your core clenches. Pleasure bursting deep inside you, racing up your spine and down to the tips of your fingers and pointed toes.
The quick thrust slowa into a lazy grind. A low “atta girl” that he grits out, as he feels the way you come hard around him.
Eyes dropping from your face to watch the greedy press of your fingers as you draw it out - until his own hand is wrapping around your wrist.
Tugging your hand away as the pleasure still courses inside you, hips still chasing the last ripples as you ride his cock.
Bringing your fingers to his mouth. Fitting them against teeth and tongue as his lips close around, tasting the slick that clings to them.
It makes goosebumps raise on your skin. The briefest thrill of fear. Certain that if you pulled your fingers free right now, the flesh and muscle would peel from you - leaving only bones behind.
He groans loudly around them, teeth indenting your skin. Tongue swirling against your knuckles, his hips rocking up to meet yours.
Freeing you, only to grasp at your hips - urging you to move faster. A loud slap of skin until his jaw is clenching - and he’s bringing you down once more against him with a rough sound.
Coming inside you again, but this time you get to see the way his head tips back with his snarl. How his fingers bite into your skin as you feel him throb - throat bared as he spills deep inside you with each rough jerk of his hips.
A flare of something flicking to life in your belly, knowing you did this to him. The groan he made when he tasted you echoing in your mind, giving you something to keep.
You make to move when he goes still, but a hand grips at your hip - holding you in place. Keeping you full of him, as the afterglow still glitters in your veins.
His eyes are dark, fixed on you. Taking in your shadowed, half-lidded gaze - sweat-dewed and bare skinned against him. His hat, still perched on your head. Looking like it belongs there.
A hand digs around in his bag. Pulling out the inhaler for his serum. Snapping it together without his gaze leaving you.
Bringing it to his mouth after - sucking in a deep, held breath. Those eyes closing with a low, contented groan.
A broad hand slips from your hip to splay across the back of your neck, fingers digging into your throat. Pulling you down to him - just as his head tilts to press his lips against yours.
Just as you soften, he exhales - the RadAway flooding through your parted lips. A stinging, metallic taste of iodine that makes you shudder, before you realize he’s deepening the kiss.
You lean into it without thought. The ache in your gums fading with the brush of his tongue. His grip anchoring you in place as he takes, licking into your mouth while his cock still fills you.
Leaving you breathless. Letting him, as your own arms wrap around his shoulders to keep him close. Meeting the messy scrape of teeth and swirl of tongue. The sharp taste fading, layered with the whisky and a hint of you that still lingers.
Before he’s pulling back far too soon, eyes dark as he pants.
“Fuck.” He rasps - his tongue tasting where yours had been, flicking across a lower lip. Before he’s looking at the inhaler - shaking it for another use.
“Looks like I might just have to keep you around.”
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You make what you can with the rest of the supplies afterward - waste not, want not. An extra stimpak. Swiping the rest of the mentats, keeping the grape and berry ones for yourself. Refilling your canteen with more of the purified water.
The rest of the chems you gather - packing them in a tin. Tossing them his way, a low whistle when he sees what’s inside.
It’s late enough that the Ghoul decides it’s best to stay here, and leave at dawn. Certain that he will catch up to the bounty tomorrow, already sure of two places where he might be offloading the stolen wares.
You don’t mind. The uneasy thought of sleeping in a house with corpses quickly overshadowed by the real mattresses waiting in the basement. Stained but there’s still bedding - patched up blankets.
A fire, that he coaxes to life in the fireplace upstairs. Dinner, roasting over it.
It almost feels like something. A moment you can play pretend - that these walls will keep you safe.
That maybe you could clean it up.
That maybe he didn’t despise you, and maybe he’d want to stay.
It’s a foolish thought, a sigh as you push it from you. Digging a spoon into the rusted can of Pork ‘N Beans you had scavenged - not trusting the look of the skewer he had been tending.
A thumb running across your lower lip, as you chew. Remember how his had felt. Examining the angry marks pressed into your knuckles. 
His shadow crosses over you, then - you have to crane your neck up to see him. His hat back where it belongs, much like your own clothes.
The tilt of his head, as he considers you again. Before his hand is slipping into the bag that slings across his shoulder.
Gloved fingers curling around something - tossing it silently into your lap, before he’s disappearing upstairs to finish his sweep of the house.
It’s golden, in the light of the fireplace. Seems like he’s already done a little looting of his own. A rolled up bag, the tube and needle tucked inside.
And a bottle of the RadAway you made for him.
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save a horse, ride a cowboy and all that 🤠💖 (thank you so much for reading! would love to know what you thought if you enjoyed!)
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rosedom · 2 days
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AHH UR SO RIGHT, fucking him over his bike, his pride and joy, while he gasps and moans while blubbering on how good u make him, how good it is.
AHHH him in leather too, he'd look so fine with a leather jacket bro omfg (≧▽≦) the way he'd tremble when you'd bite his neck, marking him up all from his neck to his shoulders as he tries to he quiet, embarrassed that he's feeling this good with you railing him over his precious bike
Maybe he's known as the "bad boy," the complete opposite of you,, and nobody would expect the two of you to even speak to each other,, but here the two of you are, both of you pretty much trembling from overstimulation and how good you're both feeling aahdbsksbdjs
It's such a good idea omfg ahdhshdbs ur brain is so good it's amazing
-pera
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"in an open match, 【 pera 】 has invited WRIOTHESLEY to play . . . dress for the slide
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✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!male!reader, sub!ftm!wriothesley, modern au, sex against a motorcycle, vaginal fingering, PIV sex, dirty talk + teasing + lowk praise, lighthearted bickering (mid- and post-coitus), slight breeding kink, creaming, creampie, alluded aftercare .
A/N : i know it technically wasn't an invitation, but . . ye<3 + fun references of dad!wrio with sigewinne <33
"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."
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Wriothesley is not an arrogant, prideful man. He is humble; he tips generously at restaurants, holds the door open for anybody coming up behind him, greets people—you especially—with a kind smile. 
The scars marring his body, the thick leather of his jacket and pants, the spikes and chains worn like jewelry, accessories—it’s intimidating, sure, but on him, it’s hardly such. 
Little children—they bound up to him, pulled as if by a magnet. It’s adorable, it’s endearing; and Wriothesley takes it all in stride, smiling that toothy grin of his and giving lollipops and candies from God-knows-where. (He’s got a pocket in his jacket just for sweets.
It’s why he always smells like sugar, beneath his frosty cologne.)
And speaking of children... Wriothesley is so good with ‘em. He holds custody over small Sigewinne, for crying out loud! She’s quite popular in school, too; while she's certainly a ball of sunshine on her own, her father certainly seals the deal for her—especially when he drops her off and picks her up in that hot ride of his:
a goddamn motorcycle. 
Now, you’re not exactly an expert in the things: all you know is that it looks badass, and it makes Wriothesley all the more ruggedly handsome to you. 
And, well.
It just so happens that, now, you’ve got this ruggedly handsome, sugar-frosted man all for the taking, spread out across the seat of that damn bike. He’s got his usual get-up on for when he rides—leather jacket, torn jeans, simple tee—, his hair a mussed up mess from where he took off his helmet. The helmet is resting precariously on the back seat, a support for Wriothesley’s body as you kiss him silly.
“Hah—wait, wait,” he’s pushing you back, breathless, his leather, fingerless gloves accentuating his fingertips, the short, bitten nails of his. His cheeks are tinged pink, and he looks good enough to eat—to devour. 
You hum, tip your head to the side to nonverbally ask, What’s up? but Wriothesley’s twisting around just-so, just enough to grab his helmet. He passes it off to you—with, to your delight, shaking hands—, and asks, “Can you put this on the ground?” You raise a brow, taking it anyway to do as he asks, and he continues, sheepish. “I—ah, I don’t want it to fall.”
You laugh, then, corralling back up to him once the helmet’s safely deposited on the grass (and not the pavement, thank you. You’re not a monster, letting something as sexy and sleek as that helmet risk getting scratched up). 
“Oh?” You lean back in, making like you’re about to kiss him again—kiss him proper, now, without worrying about the precarious balance of his beloved helmet—, but you dip down at the last second to press hot, searing kisses across his throat. “Why would it fall?” you continue, chuckling at the soft whimper that falls past his lips. “Unless you’re thinking about something naughty.”
He goes silent; the motorcycle rocks, just a little.
You pay it no mind, though. “Dirty, dirty boy,” you coo instead, lapping at the heavy thrum of his pulse. He groans, strong, leather-bound hands coming to wrap themselves around your biceps, yet he makes no other noise besides the quiet sounds of each exhale. 
Soon enough—because it seems Wriothesley truly is intent on keeping it zipped—, your mouth has landed on the softest, most tender part of his neck. You hone in on it like you’re some type of mosquito blood-sucker, lips wrapping around his skin and sucking, suckling, working your tongue over it until it blooms a pretty shade of purple.
You tire quick, though, of the lack of vocal reply from your lover. “You can’t tell me you haven’t fantasized about this already,” you murmur, suckling a new mark opposite of the first one you’ve set prominently, “about me, about me fucking you jus’ like this...” You slide your hands up from his side to cup his jaw, thumbing at the subtle stubble as he looks up at you with such icy-blue irises. 
You don't expect Wriothesley to nod. “I do,” he adds on, to really fluster you. 
“I—ah?” You hiccup, pause, bite at the side of his neck mere inches above your first mark. “Gimme the deets.” 
(It’s fun, to be immature like this.) 
He huffs above you, gentle laughter shaking you from where you suckle bruise after bruise after bruise, leaving him looking like he got mauled by a bear, or whatever. (Your possessive heart soars at seeing your claim spread across his skin, where even his jacket collar can't cover. 
Everybody will know he's yours.) 
“Stop talkin’ like that,” he grumbles—the effect lost by the way he laughs—, “you sound like a teenager.”
“A horny teenager.” 
He barks out a true laugh at that, the sound spilling into a soft moan when you suck at the slight hollow of his throat, the area oversensitive because of the scars. “You're insufferable.”
“And hard,” you murmur, rolling your hips down into him. The motorcycle creaks at your movement, but, this time, it stays still—perfectly still. (You thank Wriothesley for the care he gave his bike, going as far as to invest in a good and proper kickstand. 
He definitely didn't imagine this when buying that, though.) 
It's time to up the ante, then (to really test the give of the product.)
“Lemme fulfill those dirty fantasies of yours, sweet thing,” you coo, suddenly dropping the pretense of light-hearted teasing and diving right on into adopting that tone of voice you know makes Wriothesley utterly helpless in his arousal. 
Yet, “Sigewinne rides on this with me—” he tries to say. 
“So?” You dip down, hot breath fanning against his lips. His eyes cross to follow your descent, trained on your mouth getting closer, closer. “I’ll clean it.
“Besides,” you continue, rubbing the tips of your noses together. His own breath tickles your face. “I want you to be reminded of this. Every time you go on a ride, you’re gonna be thinking about this—about me, about the way I ruined you right here, right on your precious lil’ bike. 
“You’ll always be reminded of this.” 
You don't expect the way he mutters, all breathless off of nothing but the pleasant ache across his neck from the hickeys and your dirty, dirty words—it’s a simple, a quiet but gruff, “Good.” 
“Good?” You tip your head to the side. 
Wriothesley only huffs again, pulling you closer with the hands he's moved to your shoulders. You swear you can feel the grooves of his gloves through your own shirt. “Good,” he repeats, easy confidence dripping from his voice. (You want him to drip with something else.) “I want to remember.” 
And, really, the grin you give is downright ridiculous, this love-sick, dopey thing that has no place in such a charged environment; but Wriothesley shares it with you, your own private smiles, and then he's surging forward and pulling you down to meet him in a desperate kiss, one all tongues and teeth. 
“Now quit talkin’,” he drawls, licking at the roof of your mouth, “and make g-good on that promise.” 
“Promise?” You chuckle, dark, a play out of Wriothesley’s own book. It doesn't fit you, really—you, the epitome of a good boy, a handsome sonuvabitch who has grandmas tripping over themselves trying to marry off their granddaughters. (“Oh, isn't he charming, sweet Cecily?” 
“Grandmama, I’m a lesbian.”)
“I didn't promise you anything, Wrio,” you coo, but your mouth and hands are hardly on the same wavelength; as you tease him with your words, dripping straight sin, your hands are unbuckling the heavy metal strung across his hips, thumbing down the fly ‘til you get your fingers wedged right between his thighs. “Maybe I should have you beg, hm? Beg to be ruined right now, right here on the same bike everybody sees you ride around town in.
“Oh,” you murmur, then, an idea springing to your mind as your fingertips press to the throb of his cock even through his briefs, “isn’t that an idea?” He whimpers, the sound so soft, so—so unbecoming, if you didn't know Wriothesley the way you do. “E’rybody’s gonna see you ridin’ this, and they're not gonna have a damn clue, are they? They're not gonna know the way you spread yourself so eagerly across her pretty seats—” you tease him by calling the bike a her, knowing how peculiar Wriothesley is about personifying the thing. 
He nods, hips humping desperately into your fingers. The whole time, he's making these other soft sounds, and you're taken, over and over again, by how lucky you are to have such a strong man at your mercy. “Please,” he begs. “Quit talkin’, and fuck me.”
Snickering, you bump your palm against his mons, saying, “But you love it when I tell you all the things I’m gonna do to you.” 
Unable to even deny it, he groans, deep and throaty. “I do,” he acquiesces while you take away your hand and help lift him enough to shimmy down his jeans and boxers both, “but I’d love it better if you'd do more than just talk.” You leave the fabrics bunched mid thigh as you stand him up proper and spin him around, pressing him gently into the leather upholstery. 
It’s quick, after that, to curl over the heft of him, to nudge your fingers back down between his bare thighs to tease at this thick cock, his throbbing cunt. He's soaked, off so little, and it's easy, too, to slide in one, two, three, working him open in soft, gentle movements that stretch him without a biting burn. 
“I’m ready,” he bemoans, shimmying his hips ‘til he bumps against your own erection, tenting at your own pants. “Fuck me!” His hips move, tantalizing, teasing, and you find, unsurprisingly, that pre-cum is seeping through the fabric of your boxers. 
“Fine, fine,” you murmur, pressing your fingertips against his g-spot for the first time today, the spot swollen beneath your touch. He mewls, chasing the pleasure, and you give it to him readily as you dig your cock out from your fly, barely pushing your pants down enough to rest just past your balls. 
Now that your cock’s out, you slide your fingers from his wet, loose heat. (It never ceases to amaze you, how loose a cunt he gets when he's sufficiently aroused. He opens so easily for you, sopping off of nothing but some words, some foreplay.)
No matter how wet he is, though, you're still careful to further slick him up with lubricant. You dip into him just-so, just enough to slather his hole and cock both in lube. He starts, slightly, at the starkness of something cold against where he's most hot, most sensitive. “Ah.”
Grinning devilishly against the nape of his neck, nosing down the high leather collar of his jacket, you drag out your fingers, terribly slow; and, only when you're sure Wriothesley is well aware of just where your hand is, you slather your own hard cock with the mess of lube and his slick. 
“Ready?” 
He huffs. “I’ve been ready, babydoll.” 
You laugh at that, nudging your cockhead up and into his loose hole. The resistance is hardly evident—really, his body gives so easily for you—, your cockhead popping in in that perfectly saccharine way that always makes you groan low, makes Wriothesley whimper high in his throat.
“So open for me, babydoll,” you coo—his own word against him—, one hand dropping from his hip to brace against the seat of the bike. It hasn't gotten truly unsteady yet, but you always like to err on the side of caution when your beloved is involved. (Plus, you’re really not keen on having to buy a replacement bike for him. 
A year’s salary alone probably couldn't buy a bike as souped up as his, the years Wriothesley put into the thing paying off beautifully in the long run. That damn bike's been around longer than you’ve been his boyfriend.)
Your cock slips in quick, easy, smooth, sliding right in down to the hilt, where you pause to let him adjust to your size. And, like clockwork, he shuffles his hips side to side against your one-hand hold and breathes out a low, whistling breath, says, “Okay.” 
With that simple word—that small phrase, really—, you’re drawing your hips out slow n’ slick, the sound frankly obscene in the quiet around you. His bike doesn't so much as creak this time, either: it’s silent but swaying in time with your thrusts, barely noticeable and not at all that important, supporting the weight of you both and the heft of your next tender thrust. 
Nosing at his sweat-damp hair, you drawl, “Look’it you, sweetheart, all open n’ pliant for me on my cock. You’re takin’ it so well, pretty thing right on your pretty bike.” 
“Baby—” he starts to say something else, but he gets cut off with his own moan, your thick cock budding up against his g-spot. You feel him froth around where you're balls-deep in him, and you slide your hand from hip to mons. 
“Want my hand, Wrio?” you ask, fingers brushing the mess of black curls sprouting from between his thighs. 
He nods vehemently, his bangs splayed across his sweaty forehead. God, if anybody walked by, drove by—they’d get an eyeful of your Wriothesley, fucked silly and hot by your cock; they’d get their heart’s content of punked-out Wriothesley, leather gloves and leather jacket spread across leather upholstery, his accessorizing chains rattling off with each thrust.
But Wriothesley is yours and yours alone; you wouldn't dare share the sight with anybody else. As such, you curl yourself further over his stretch-out, prone body, breathing hotly against and moaning against the blushing shell of his ear. 
“There we go,” you murmur, taking to circling the throbbing head of his cock with a gentle finger. He mewls into the air, his head almost limp on his shoulders. “There we go.” 
“F-feels good,” he moans as he tips his head into yours. “So good.”
“Yeah?” you ask, rhetoric, switching from circling to stroking him, your pointer and middle finger lightly squeezed on either side of his straining erection, moving forwards n’ backwards in gentle undulations. You swear you can feel his heartbeat in each throb of his cock, driving you to give it to him better, sweeter. “I can feel you throb for me, sweet thing: are you already that close?”
No longer trusting his voice (which is a shame, really, considering how much you love to hear those ruined syllables pass from his lips), Wriothesley can only nod, letting his head loll even further forward ‘til he’s practically curved over the seat of the bike. You follow him all the way down: you, wrapped over his curled back; and him, head pillowed on his crossed arms. A shimmer of sweat makes itself known on the sleeves of his jacket, the leather of it catching the sun. He’s devolved to helpless moans.
While he trembles beneath you, around your cock, you hone in on that perfect angle—the angle of your fingers stroking him off, the angle of your cock bumping against the spots deep in his cunt that never fail to pull Wriothesley apart. “There we go,” you repeat, your own words coming out muddled with the pleasure threatening to pull you under, instead. “‘m gonna cum in you, gonna fill you up ‘til you can’t take anymore—y-you want that, baby? Want me to breed you while you cream my cock—”
“—yes!” His voice is shot to hell, this raspy thing that’s somehow thrice as gruff as normal and equally as hot, as absolutely, resolutely ruined. “Yes, yes! Breed me, w-wanna be bred...” He tapers off with a whimper, cunt beginning to tighten up around you as his orgasm threatens to pull him under with you—no longer just apart, but wholly wrapped in you, safe and protected. 
“Cum for me, then—mm—, Wrio, Wriothesley—”
He whimpers, again, and you barely catch a whisper of your own name in the intelligible mess before you’re cumming, too, your cock pulsing with each involuntary squeeze of Wriothesley around you. Even as blood rushes through your ears, though, you’re whispering sweet words—nasty words, each one making him whimper n’ whine—, your fingers—long-trained, by now—keep up the gentle strokes of his cock until he’s too sensitive to go on. You withdraw them slowly, even as you’re still pumping him full with cum, even as his cock is still helplessly twitching and cunt still milking you for all you’re worth.
Coming down from your highs, then, is a slow, drawn out thing. You stay seated to the hilt, but you tease at the way his cunt’s spread open around the base of your cock, your fingers coming back covered in opaque white. He whines and weakly kicks his leg back, but you only laugh, bringing his cum up to your lips, tongue darting out to lick it clean. You groan—more-so for show, to get a rise out of your boyfriend—at the taste, and he seems to finally find his voice at that.
“Quit it,” he says; and, damn, did you do a number on his voice. It seems to have dropped an octave, all syrupy-slow and gruff in that way he always gets post-coitus. “‘s nasty.”
“I’m nasty?” Laughing, you nuzzle your cheek against the back of his head, cat-like in your affections. “You begged for it.” 
Wriothesley groans. When he attempts to lean up, you help by wrapping your hands around his abdomen—surely leaving a patch of saliva somewhere on either his tee or jacket—and prop your chin on his shoulder... all while you’re still balls-deep. 
“Hi,” you say, grinning. You can feel his eye-roll. 
But he says “hi” back anyway, letting his head fall back onto your own shoulder. He tilts his face towards you and meets your gaze with a satisfied sort of smile. 
“Well?” you ask. “Did I live up to your fantasies?” 
He nods. “And more,” he adds; but then he’s pulling off of and away from your cock, leaving you no time to dwell on it. “I starkly remember you saying you would clean my bike.” 
“I did.”
“Get to it then.” 
You grumble, though, tugging him back into your with the bear hold you’ve got wrapped across his torso. “You and the bike,” you finally correct, “and you come first. C’mon.”
Whether or not you actually get to cleaning that leather upholstery, well... Wriothesley may be driving Sigewinne to school tomorrow while sitting on a barely-there, all-dried patch of his and your cum. 
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i got rlly carried away . . this was 3k words before i even knew it >< . . but: was this inbox from february? ye. does my pera anon still show their face? idk ! if ur still here, this is dedicated to u, honey <33 i know this may feel shallow of me, but i really do miss u guys when u disappear (;′⌒`)
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Text
Flirting With Fiction ~ BC
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⤜WORD COUNT: 0.8K
⤜GENRE: Established relationship, cute, fluff, couples being cute, chan finding out the reader is reading smut
⤜PAIRING: Chan x GN!Reader
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - April 2024
⤜MASTERLIST
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The sun dipped low, casting a warm, golden glow into Chan's living room as he and you lounged together on the couch, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as he lazily scrolled through his phone. It had been a day of lazy contentment, filled with shared laughter and easy conversation. But now, as the shadows lengthened, a curious silence fell between the two of you. Which was a little odd since you were usually the type to fill any kind of silence in the air. 
If there was one thing Chan knew about you it was that you hated when it was too quiet in the air and you needed to fill it. Chan glanced over at you, his brow furrowing in confusion at your uncharacteristic quietness. He worried something was wrong, maybe something had upset you or maybe he'd done it somehow. Panic built up inside of his chest and he swallowed the lump in his throat, putting his phone down.
"Hey, what's up?" he asked, nudging you gently with his elbow. "You've been unusually quiet." He added a soft chuckle on the end to let you know he wasn't being mean about it. You jumped slightly, tearing your gaze away from the book you were holding in your hands, you shut it instantly and smiled up at him. 
Whenever you opened a book the words danced before your eyes, and you could feel yourself slipping away from the confines of reality. It was like a siren's call, luring you further into the depths of the world the book was created for you. The world completely fading into obscurity. You'd read in front of Chan before but never got so lost in the pages as much as you had tonight. The book just had a grip on you, something you couldn't put down.
"Oh, um, nothing," you murmured, attempting to hide the title with a feeble attempt at nonchalance since Chan had already caught you acting suspicious about it.
Chan arched an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a mischievous grin as he leaned closer to peer at the book, you pulled it to your chest doing your best to hide it from him but it was too late, he'd already caught a glimpse of the title.
"Hmm, 'Forbidden Desires: A Tale of Passion'?" he read aloud, a teasing lilt to his voice, your body heating up as you heard it said in a suggestive way from your boyfriend. Within seconds the book was taken from your grasp and Chan flicked through the pages, his eyes landing on the different highlighted passages you'd done. All in different coloured highlighters, some sentences or paragraphs underlined with small written words next to them. 
"Now, what might you be doing with a book like that?" He chuckled softly and you felt your whole body tingle with embarrassment as you attempted to snatch the book away, but he lifted it from your grasp and smirked a little. Chan knew you liked to read but he never would have imagined you liked to read something so steamy and suggestive, 
"It's nothing," you insisted, though your protests were weak at best, Chan couldn't help but look through the pages as he kept the book out of your reach.
"Nothing, huh? You sure seemed pretty engrossed in it," he teased, his eyes dancing with amusement. His eyes moved back to the book as he read the passages highlighted in pink and instantly his cheeks began to turn red.
You huffed in mock annoyance, swatting at Chan's hand in a futile attempt to reclaim the book, he stared down at you and you bit down on your lip. 
"Fine, you caught me," You admitted with a sheepish grin. "But it's not like I'm reading it for any particular reason." You mumbled a little and Chan raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk playing at his lips. 
"Oh, really? So you just randomly decided to pick up a steamy romance novel?" You rolled her eyes, though there was a sparkle of amusement in your gaze. You picked up books all of the time, spice or no spice but this one just so happened to be one of the spicest books you'd ever had the pleasure of reading. 
"Okay, maybe I was looking for a little... escapism," you confessed, your cheeks burning up so hot you were sure you'd be able to cook on them at this point. Chan laughed, finally relenting and handing the book back to you. 
"Well, as long as it's keeping you entertained," he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close, you settled back into a comfortable reading position, finding the page you'd been on since you hadn't had time to place a bookmark earlier. 
"But next time, maybe just tell me you need some alone time to indulge in your spicy reads." He whispers against your ear, his breath catching on your skin making you shiver.
"Or I can maybe help recreate any scenes you want, it's up to you," He added as you whimpered, snuggling closer to him,
"Deal," You agreed, feeling a warmth spread through you at the easy familiarity of your banter.
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bunnys-kisses · 3 days
Text
i only got eyes for you
col. alejandro vargas
cw: smut/pwp, protective!alejandro (borderline possessive), body worship, tender sex, missionary position
bunny says: like the fic? leave a comment! really like the fic? suggest your own. i'm always opened to new ideas <3
"do i scare you, dove?" he asked as he hand trailed up your thigh, pushing up the rather short skirt you wore. his dark eyes met yours as he smiled, "i've done a lot of bad things for the sake of safety."
you sat down in his lap and cupped his face tenderly, there was a small buzz in your head from the feeling of your lover's broad hand on your thigh. you leaned in close to him and replied, "alejandro. you're a good man, you could never convince me otherwise. i'm not scared of you."
he reached for your hair and combed his fingers through it, "good." he smiled then pulled you gently to his lips.
-
you knew that alejandro was a good man. he was protective in a way that some would view as alarming. at times it put him at odds with himself, was he keeping you trapped like a bird?
but if something happened to you.
the idea of losing you had him double checking the locks before bed. he left extra kisses on your neck before he left for missions. and always came home with flowers.
you met him by chance, you were in university in the city he was stationed at. you just thought he was a charming man, until you found his id in his wallet the next morning. you had slept with a special operative. he caught you with his wallet in your hand, for a moment you thought that he was going to pull out some fighting moves and knock you out... or worse.
"i guess you found my little secret. i lied about my name. it's not eliseo." he shrugged, "can't be going around and giving away my identity, even to pretty girls." he closed the gap between you two, he held onto your chin and looked at you, "but i am curious how alejandro sounds on your tongue."
i mean what were you supposed to do, not invite him for breakfast. after that it felt like your two lives sort of melded together. he came home from long grueling missions and would just lie on top of you. he wanted to make sure that his woman was safe till his return.
"no one else touched you, right?" he asked lowly as his hands ran up and down your arms.
you squirmed occasionally in his touch and replied, "not a soul. i'd never want anyone else alejandro. i thought about you every day." then you started to slowly kiss him.
he made a soft noise against you as his calloused hands roamed up the front of your sleeping shirt. you're the one he came home too, the woman he'd go through hell for.
and what a beautiful woman you were. it was why he worried so much about other men getting their hands on you. you were his slice of heaven and would bend the earth to make sure that you stayed that way.
call him possessive, but to lose someone so precious would turn him into a man who could not be contained by any means. so as his hands trailed your stomach, his heated gaze on you, you felt under his control.
"alejandro." you said softly.
he kissed you once more and toyed with your breast under your shirt. he heard you soft noise in your kiss then pulled away and looked down at you, "yes, my dove." both hands were still under your shirt, he was touching you gently.
"did you miss me?" you pouted.
he smiled softly and kissed you on the forehead, "every second we were apart it felt like hours." he slowly pulled the shirt over your head and exposed your breasts to him.
he kissed you once more as he started to work on his pants, which he kicked to the bottom of the bed, his hands then hooked into the waistband of your sweatpants before they were off too. in a tussle on the bed, you were both stripped on your clothes.
alejandro's cock was quite impressive. he chuckled and told you he was just "average" but you were certain that "average" didn't feel like it was in the back of your throat every time he fucked you.
he gazed down at you, "you'd tell me if anyone tried to touch you, right?" he leaned in once more, your noses almost touching. his energy was almost intimidating, it made you stomach twist in a good way.
he was feared, that was certain. he didn't get to where he was by being a pacifist. if he got his hands dirty, even for a good cause, it meant others got to stay clean. simple as that.
you both laid in bed together, where he kissed along your heated skin. he kissed along the hills and valleys of your body. the plushness under his hands as he held your hips. a goddess. a symbol of the divine feminine. the thought made him smile as he slowly kissed your breasts. he could almost feel your heartbeat.
"nothing will ever hurt you, my dove." he said softly as he gazed at you briefly before he pressed more kisses. he worshiped your body in ways that made his cock twitch.
that was why he found himself to be on the possessive side when it came to you. your name, location and other information was under a tight lock and key.
he pressed his head up against your stomach and held your hips for a moment. he exhaled deeply, "never leave me." he said out loud, but internally said, or i will have to find you.
sometimes it slipped out, the obsessive need to know that he'd never be without you. while you never noticed the intensity of what he was saying, it simply meant he could continue to pile on the security to keep his dove safe.
you ran your fingers through his dark hair and said, "alejandro. i would never, i love you too much." you watched him look up at you once more and take your hand off his hand to kiss it.
"then be good and let me take care of you." he let go and pulled away from you. he got between your legs, his cock at full attention. he rubbed it gently against the entrance of your slit. the wetness made a shiver run through him.
you reached out for him, but ended up with your hands buried in the covers. you loved him deeply, even if he could be off-putting. you labelled him as protective, even if your friends thought he was a little possessive. like who needed to check on the cameras in the house if it was just you there? but you shrugged it off, he just wanted you safe. what was wrong with that?
"are you ready, my dove." he said softly. your pussy was enticing to him, the feeling of your heat around his cock was like muscle memory, baked into his core.
you nodded, "i'm always ready for you."
he smirked. so eager, so soft and gentle. of course you fell for a man like him, you needed someone to protect you. keep you safe against a world that would take you limb from you. he leaned forward as pushed his cock deep inside of you with ease.
he chest was pressed against yours as he put his weight on you. kept you pinned down to the bed as he fucked your cunt. the sounds of your love making filled the room. your noises sounded angelic to him.
a paradise for his pleasure, the most beautiful woman in the world letting him rut his cock into you. he dug his nose into your hair as he held your hips. he moved against you, he could feel the racing of your heart.
he chuckled, "good girl. my good girl." as his grip tightened a little more. he continued to thrust into you, your bodies moved together in a rhythm that made both of you hot all over.
the kissing became sloppier as you felt your head begin to feel dizzy. despite the rush of hormones in your body, it still felt hazy as you partner held you tightly and fucked into your tight head.
he gave you soft words of praise as he grew hotter all over. his angel. there was no other woman like you, he just thought you were simply perfect. and nothing could ever convince him otherwise. he held onto your hips and thrusted up into you.
you wrapped your legs around him tightly as you moved up and down the bed. your cheeks felt flushed, pleasure was taking over. your hands soon roamed his back as you felt the strength of him.
"mine." he simply said. then went into for another searing kiss. the electricity between you two felt hot. there was a flame in your belly as you tried to meet his pace. he simply said close to you, "stay still, my dove. be good for me."
his voice sounded darker, laced with heavy pleasure as he began to pick up the pace. he watched your expression change the deeper you fell into lust.
you moaned out loud as you felt the rush through your body. with a few more heavy thrusts of his hips, you dug your nails into his back and tightened around him. your buried your head in his shoulder and climaxed.
he held onto you as tightly as he could and fucked you. it was good proper fucking as you started to fall from your orgasmic high. he kept a good grip on you as he finished inside of you.
"alejandro!" you whimpered as you felt the pace slow down.
he slowed to a still then let go of his tight grip on your body. he kept his eyes on your blissed out expression as he pulled out and laid next to you on the bed. he reached for your face and pulled you in for another kiss.
"good girl." he purred before he settled himself beside you and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. he kept you close as he came down from his own high, his cock still soaked in your wetness.
he kissed you a few more times before he simply gazed at you with warmth in his chest. you were his girl and nothing could ever break you two apart. he simply wouldn't let it happen.
and he'd make sure you never forget who your man was. the good, proper man he was. <3
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sockmeat · 2 days
Note
Could I maybe get an Angel and Reader fake date catch feelings imagine? Angel needs a date for an event, probably would have asked Husk but he's busy, so Reader agreed to go with him instead and agreed to do the whole 'loving couple' act only for them to catch feelings as the night carries on.
                                                        𓆩♡𓆪
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✼__________________________________________________________✼
𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 --𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩…(𝑯𝒂𝒛𝒃𝒊𝒏 𝑯𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒍)
(𝐰𝐜): 723
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: When Valentino decides to create a dating scandal with Angel Dust, things take a turn for the better when he chooses you as his fake partner.
(𝐀/𝐍): i stretched it out a lil but its like the same thing still; :3
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): it gets sexual because i have no self control
                                                        𓆩♡𓆪
♡ I don't have enough brain power to think of a specific event so it could be a royal ball for all i know
♡ Somehow, Angel Dust's reach was decreasing by the smallest amount so Valentino decided to stir something up
♡ Clearly porn wasn't working as well anymore since Angel started rebelling against him, so Valentino decided to rile up some of Angel Dust's more dedicated fans
♡ Valentino knew that fans would kick up dirt about a "boyfriend"
♡ He gave Angel the grace of picking out who it would be and he just happened to pick you
♡ He figured Husk wouldn't be able to sell it, but you were able to work up a crowd just like he could and Alastor would most likely kill him, so you were the best option
♡ He also had the smallest attraction to you, so that was an added bonus
♡ It's "announced" at one of Valentino's events
♡ Where Angel would usually be sitting on Valentino's laps for this, he was sitting on yours
♡ It was a little bit awkward first but with a few drinks and playful banter, you eased up and made everything seem so much more natural
♡ There were doubters of course, but nobody could deny your obvious chemistry
♡ The two of you went through scenarios that Valentino had planned specifically to convince the public but Angel Dust found himself enjoying it more than he thought he would
♡ And you did too 👀
♡ You fully expected this event to be a pain in the ass and were only really going for the free drinks
♡ However, the conversation between you and Angel was as natural as it possibly could be
♡ It's like you two weren't just acquaintances before this night
♡ Just as Valentino intended, your "relationship" spread like wildfire through Hell
♡ You two were the new hot topic around Hell, with a tough mix of haters and shippers
♡ You really enjoyed your night out with Angel, even if it hadn't happened how you would've preferred, so you decided to ask him to go out with you again
♡ Though you did pussy out and said it would be good to feed the lie...
♡ Angel saw through your shit, you were way too nervous, but he agreed anyway
♡ The cycle continued and eventually you stopped using the publicity as an excuse and just called them dates
♡ You'd take him out shopping, to bars, out to dinner, or even just for a walk
♡ Doing things together just became second nature
♡ You became used to his presence, as did he with yours, to the point where he could just go to your room and cuddle with you for the night without blinking an eye
♡ But even though it looked official, you never actually asked him to be your boyfriend
♡ On one of your dates you took him to his favorite bar and ordered a few too many of your favorite drinks
♡ You two ended up drunk from the drinks and high off the tension of your romance
♡ And after some heavy teasing from Angel, you finally cracked and brought him to the bathroom where your hands got a little more than curious
♡ You had to pry him off you just to order a taxi and had to sprint with him in your arms just to make it to your bedroom, but your drunk ass made it
♡ Although you two were far from sober, you were both intentional with your actions and genuine with your late declarations of love
♡ The morning after was a little awkward
♡ Angel woke up first and pushed himself into a panic, worrying that you weren't actually into him and you only wanted sex, despite all the time you had spent together and your obvious infatuation
♡ But his worries washed away when you woke up, immediately pulled him closer, and called him a sweet name
♡ He enjoyed the moment before you two talked about what happened and the details of your relationship
♡ You finally became official and Husk could stop listening to Angel whine
♡ Your dynamic didn't change much, but there was definitely a lot more PDA in the hotel after
                                                        𓆩♡𓆪
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shinestarhwaa · 3 days
Text
LOVERS LANE || CHOI SAN
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Genre: Fluff
Pairing: Husband!San x Fem!reader
Word Count: 0.6K
Tags/Warnings: Married Couple AU, San & reader have a daughter, fluffiest fluff ever, pregnancy announcement, I cannot think of any warnings
Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @mjyungi @bratty-tingz @sugarnspice630 @stardragongalaxy @bro-atz @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisg00dgirl @vesvosmozhno
ENJOY!
''Babe, she won't eat the salad I made,'' San pouted. You looked at your daughter and laughed at the sulky faces both she and your husband made. ''San, honey, she's two. Most two year olds do not eat salad.'' ''But she has to try it! I made it with love,'' San sulked. ''Nabi knows what she wants and what she doesn't want is eating your salad. Instead she wants to eat mommy's sandwiches, right sweetie?''
Nabi happily took one of the small sandwiches in her hand and ate it as she continued to play with her dolls. San sighed and leaned back, letting the early spring sunrays hit his skin. You admired him for a second, drowning in his immaculate beauty.
You were so lucky to have him, you thought. He was always so kind and gentle with you, making sure you were okay and he was so funny. San won over your heart in no-time and now a few years later here you were: sitting on a blanket in a beautiful meadow in April.
''I brought a drink, to celebrate our anniversary,'' San smiled, reaching for the little champagne bottle in his bag. You bit your lip to hold back a giggle but he noticed. ''What is it?'' San asked. ''Well I can't drink that...''
''Oh, honey I know champagne is not your favourite but this one is really good actually, it's from France and it's very sweet and bubbly and you definitely need to try it becau-''
''Sannie, I'm pregnant.''
He gasped and paused, looking into your eyes to detect some kind of prank-situation, but it was true. You smiled widely as you placed your hand on your stomach. Nabi showed no reaction - probably not knowing what it even meant to be pregnant - but San's eyes were filled with tears of joy.
''You are pregnant? Really?'' he asked, unsure. ''I am, sweetie. Five weeks actually,'' you explained, holding his hand. ''Oh wow, darling this is... Incredible. We're having another baby? Baby number two?'' You laughed and nodded, ''Baby number two!''
San started laughing and he hugged you tight. ''You're pregnant!'' ''Mommy pregit?'' ''Pregnant, honey,'' San repeated, ''You know what that means?'' Your daughter shook her head no. ''This means you're getting a sibling... A little brother or a little sister... In 8 months mommy and daddy are having another baby,'' San explained.
''Sibling?'' Nabi said, eyes widening. A smile played on her small pink lips and she let out a giggle. ''Yes honey, you'll have a little brother or sister to play with, how's that?'' you asked, taking her in your lap. ''Fun!'' she exclaimed, giving you a hug.
You kissed her head and held her, remembering what it was like when Nabi was born. She was born a few weeks early and you were very worried about it, but San assured you that she would be fine because he was born early too and the Choi family only has fighters, so she'd be a fighter too. San didn't lie because Nabi was a true fighter, growing up well.
Immediately you knew that San and Nabi were very much alike. She gets sulky if things go wrong, she laughs a lot with her uncles and she's very determined. You knew that she'd be in good hands with San as a father but you had no idea how incredibly devoted he'd be. Even if it came to playing with her he'd go all the way; joining her teaparty Thursday's and playing with her dolls. It was so endearing you thought you'd burst.
For a while you just laid in his arms, Nabi happily playing in your lap. The nice spring breeze was calming and so relaxing. ''I can't believe it,'' San said after a while of cuddling, ''We'll have two babies to love... How lucky are we?'' ''The luckiest people on earth, darling.''
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ghouljams · 9 hours
Text
More fae!Gaz, he's so boyfriend, he's always there when you need him. Even if you didn't know he'd be there or that you'd need him! That's just how great he is!
You duck under an awning to escape the sudden downpour, already soaked to the bone. You look out at the pouring rain, tip your head to try and get a glimpse at how the clouds are moving, and sigh. You'll just have to wait it out. You wish you'd brought your umbrella.
The door beside you chimes, and there's the click fwump of an umbrella being opened. You glance at the man looking out at the rain, you recognize him. You've had a few conversations with him. Not friends, not even acquaintances, but not strangers either. What was his name again?
Something whispers through your mind, bounces and echoes: Gaz, Gaz, Gaz.
"Gaz?" You confirm. He turns to looks at you, and his eyes spark with recognition. He smiles and you smile back.
"Hey there sunshine," Gaz grins, his eyes drag over you, bounce across your chest and the way your soaked shirt clings to you, "gone for a swim?"
You laugh, shake your head and then shake it harder to try and get some of the water off it. You don't know how rain always feels so much colder and wetter than regular water, but you can feel it drip off you thickly. Gaz laughs, it sounds like chocolate. You don't- you don't know how to describe it. It's like chocolate. Rich and sweet, but dark with a hint of bitterness that makes you want to hear it again and again. You find yourself staring at him, pushing your hair off your forehead to stop the water from rolling down into your eyes. Already you've had to blink away the drops that settled on your lashes.
"Didn't bring my umbrella," you explain. Gaz nods, the cocks his head back towards the shop door.
"S'why I stopped in for one."
"Smart, don't know why I didn't think of that." You watch the rain fall for a moment, before you're struck with recollection. "We live in the same building right?" Gaz hums.
"You knocked on my door for a cuppa once." You nod and he shifts his grip on the umbrella, holding it between you. "You asking to share?"
"Could save me a few pounds," You're only half joking, stepping closer until your shoulder brushes his.
"What if I'm not headed for the tube?" You look up at Gaz, watch him cock a brow curiously. He never loses his smile. Something itches in the back of your mind, warning you against friendly strangers. Something else quiets it, pets the scared animal into submission with that soft echoing whisper: Gaz, Gaz, Gaz.
"Then you can just drop me off at the nearest station and be on your way," you reason. That seems to amuse him, something sparking in his eyes that lights up his smile. He's warm. Green. Natural. You can smell the dirt of a nearby flower pot, the dust of the city. Petrichor, your brain supplies. The smell of dust after rain.
Mentally you kick yourself. From a fucking Doctor Who episode ya numpty. Trying to sound poetic when you're just quoting a damn- and it's not even an episode you liked! Ugh.
Gaz taps your forehead, two gentle taps that make you blink. There's something familiar in the gesture, friendly in a way that's overly friendly for how close you aren't.
"Looked like you were getting lost in there," he says when you smack your hand against the tapped skin.
"Well throw down a rope then," you grumble. Your therapist is right you gotta start being more present. This is why you get caught in the rain, too busy day dreaming.
"How about I get you home first," Gaz jokes.
"Just to the station is fine," you tell him, hurrying to stay under the umbrella as he starts walking. Gaz shrugs, the umbrella shifts, and you press closer to avoid soaking your shoulder a second time.
"I'm going home anyway, may as well take you with me."
You roll your eyes. An alarm bell rings in the back of your mind, smothered by a thick magic that whispers to you: Gaz, Gaz, Gaz.
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golden1u5t · 2 days
Text
wait your turn | a.r x s.r x fem!reader
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ꨄ requested: anonymous
ꨄ genre: smut
ꨄ summary: having two partners is great and very fun until you're stuck on the sidelines while they have all the fun.
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it was a little after 7pm when you were getting home from work and usually you'd be greeted by aaron and spencer on the days they weren't on a case. your eyebrows furrowed as you set your bag down on the kitchen table and pulled out your phone, you hadn't gotten any messages from either of them saying they got pulled away to a case and plus, you could hear the tv playing from in the living room.
brushing it off, you set your phone down on the counter and headed down the hall to your bedroom. though, as you got closer to the door you could start to hear small grunts and groans coming from the other side of the door. as soon as you walked in aarons head snapped up, though a small smirk played on his lips once you locked eyes.
"hi, honey. how was work?" he asked as if he wasn't fucking spencer into the mattress. you couldn't ignore it though, your eyes were trained on the way spencer was trying to jerk himself off in time with aarons thrust but he couldn't keep up and you felt a pang of jealousy shoot through you because that was usually your job, you usually laid under him and stroked his cock or you laid under him with his cock nestled deep in your cunt while aaron fucked him.
choosing to ignore him, you quickly started to pull your clothes off until you were only in your panties. you made your way to the bed and kneeled beside aaron, cupping his face and turning his head so that you could kiss him. after being satisfied with kissing him you pulled your panties off and tossed them somewhere across the room so that you could situate yourself under spencer and pull him into a searing kiss.
you swallowed all of his whines and whimpers until he pulled away to rest his head against your chest. the second you wrapped your legs around spencers waist, aaron swatted your legs away.
"wait your turn, love.” aaron knew exactly what you were going to do if he hadn't stopped you and he could've let you but he wanted to see you squirm and pout. "he's all yours once i'm done."
"that's not fair." now it was your turn to let out a whine but still, you laid back against the pillows and waited for your turn. it wasn't often one of you had to sit on the sidelines while the other two got to do something, you all liked to be together and as close as you can get to each other.
when you were put on the sidelines you like how you could clearly see how they treated each other during intimate moments like this, not just taking turns making sure you felt the most pleasure the entire time.
"fuck- fuck- fuck-" aaron hissed out as he quickly pulled out of spencer, his head falling back as he quickly stroked his cock over him until he was cumming all over his backside. spencer let out a soft whine as his own orgasm died down. you watched how hard his chest rose and fell until he came back down, he moved from behind spencer and sat at the edge of the bed to fully regain himself.
"you think you can fuck me now or do you need some time, baby?" you asked spencer, pressing your lips to the side of his head. he lifted himself up on shaky arms to look at you, you reached up and pushed away the hairs that were stuck against his skin.
"yes, please. i wanna feel you." he nodded his head quickly but waited until you gave him the go ahead, you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him into you. spencer took ahold of his cock and guided through your slick a few times-even though you both were wet enough-before lining up with your entrance and slowly pushing into your warmth.
the gasp that came from both of you blended together perfectly as he bottomed out. spencer's ducked down and he tucked his head into the crook of your neck while your hand went straight into his hair. he took a moment to calm himself down before he started to pull his hips back and fuck into you, he didn't want to cum so fast but then again he hardly didn't get a break from when aaron was in him to being in you.
spencer lifted his head up and crashed his lips into yours, the kiss was sloppy and urgent but that made it all the more better. while you two were caught up in each other, you hadn't even noticed that aaron wasn't in the room anymore. spencer lifted himself up and tucked his hands under your thighs so he could pull your legs over his shoulders.
as spencer leaned back over you his cock slid deeper into your walls. you eyes practically rolled back in your head as the tip of his cock started to repeatedly stamp your spot. "right there, spence. fuck- just like that, good boy."
a soft cry left his lips at the praise and at the feeling of your walls clenching down on his cock, almost pushing him out. soon enough, you were moaning out his name as your release rushed through you and he was pulling out to cum over your pussy.
despite the sticky mess he made, spencer let your legs fall back down onto the bed and he fully laid himself on top of you. you both laid there with your eyes closed until aaron came back with warm cloths to clean you both up.
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hopleii · 2 days
Text
should've said no,
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content: dazai x fem!reader, toxic relationship, lovebombing, gaslighting, manipulating, cheating, fighting, swearing, angst no comfort, kinda ooc but kinda not, semi-proofread, trashy writing
a/n: had a mental breakdown abt my ex so i was like 'our whole relationship would be a good story' so yeah!
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you knew, you always knew that dazai had a way with women. he was handsome and charming, he could easily get any girl he wanted with just a few words, and that's how he got you.
a year ago, you went to a formal event with your friends. you were third-wheeling with them and their boyfriends, as expected. taking small sips out of your glass, enjoying the tart and sweet taste of wine, you sat there unaware that you had caught someone's eye.
"what's a pretty girl like you sitting alone here?" a feathery voice from behind you snapped you out of your thoughts, you turned back to see a brunette man with a handsome face, no, handsome was an understatement. he was gorgeous.
"my, my...you are indeed pretty," he says in a gentle voice as if you'd float away if he wasn't careful. you got a bit shy and looked away, averting your gaze to cover up the flustered look on your face. "hey...look at me." the man whined,
those were the exact same words he said that pulled you back to reality, stopping your sweet moment of reminiscing on the first time you both met, at a party, where you both danced the night away.
and now you barely even hold each other anymore, "y/n...look at me!" he yells as he grabs your chin to face him, "listen to me! god, what is going on with you?" he yells again.
oh...right. the two of you were in the middle of an argument, it all started off with a backhanded comment, now both of you are fighting in the middle of the night. "what's going on with me? what's going on with you!?" you yell back, "you've been staying out late and you don't even tell me why! don't you know how worried i get?"
"how many times do we need to talk about this...I'm out working okay!? I just got home and you're already yelling at me...give me a break, I've had a long day..." he groans as he adjusts the collar of his blouse, a habit he does when things get too heated. but as he adjusts his collar, something caught your eye, something red.
"what is that?" you asked, dazai's face went pale when he hears your question because he knew exactly what you were talking about, "what's what?" he replied, his tone becoming calmer and quieter to avoid suspicions
"that." you said as you walked over to him and pulled down his collar, lipstick marks.
you let go of his collar as you let out a quivering gasp, tears forming in your eyes. "b-baby...it's not what it looks like, okay!?" dazai gently grabs your shoulders before pulling you into a hug, trying to comfort you and stop you from crying, but instead, it only fueled your anger even more because you got to smell the cheap, floral perfume on him.
"it was for a case at the agency okay? i...i had to get information from someone a-and.." he paused, losing the words he was about to say when he saw your face stained with tears as you looked at him with disgust and betrayal. "baby...just trust me, okay? it was for a mission...nothing more, okay? you're the only one i love." he says as he tightened the hug, making soothing motions on your back to try and comfort you, to earn your trust again.
"believe me..please? I'm sorry I didn't tell you...forgive me please? forgive me if you love me, baby...you trust me, right? because you love me?" dazai shaked your shoulders gently, looking at you with pleading eyes, urging you to believe him.
but you were always an understanding girl, weren't you? you always gave people second chances. and that might've been the worst mistake you made.
"y/n..say something!" he shakes you again, "I..I believe you." you say with hesitation, to be honest, you didn't. but he loved you, right? just like he said in that party a year ago...he loved you.
"r-really? I'm glad...you're not mad at me, right? you don't hate me?" he sighed, relief washing over him. his words made him seem so genuine, his face looked so innocent but there was still a part of you that didn't believe him at all. "fuck...you hate me, don't you?"
you get nervous at his words, your heart ached as he said that, "n-no! no, I believe you...I promise. nothing you do could ever make me hate you.."
dazai smiled softly and kissed you on the forehead, his mood shifting as if none of this happened.
months went by after this incident, he still came home late, some nights he didn't even come home. everytime you tried to talk to him about it, he'd get defensive and start yelling at you, calling you stupid to think that he was anywhere else but work, defending himself when all you did was ask him "where have you been?"
your friends warned you, your parents told you, your colleagues tried to talk to you but dazai had messed up your head so much that you were blinded by a false sense of love,
"so you'd rather listen to your friends than your own boyfriend!? why won't you trust me? y/n...come on, trust me!"
dazai's words echoed in your mind, you wanted to believe him. you wanted to trust that the man you loved wouldn't betray you, that there was a valid reason. his late nights turned into weekends away, excuses grew flimsier, and the distance between you widened with each passing day. yet, every time you tried to confront him, he would turn the tables, making you feel guilty for doubting him, for questioning his loyalty.
your friends' warnings fell on deaf ears, drowned out by dazai's promises of love and devotion. you clung to the hope that things would get better, that the man you fell for would return to you.
as the months passed, the weight of your doubts grew heavier, suffocating you with each passing day. you tried to bury them beneath layers of false assurances and forced smiles, but they refused to stay hidden for long.
the click of the door jolted you from your thoughts, but the sight of dazai didn't bring the relief you craved. his expression was unreadable, his eyes avoiding yours as he shuffled into the room.
"hey, i'm home," he mumbled, his voice barely audible above the silence that hung between you.
you opened your mouth to speak, to confront him, but the words caught in your throat. instead, you watched in silence as he moved past you, his presence heavy with unspoken truths.
"we need to talk," you finally managed to whisper, your voice trembling with emotion.
dazai's gaze flickered with guilt, and he nodded wordlessly, the weight of your words settling on his shoulders. you took a shaky breath, preparing yourself for the conversation that would shatter everything you thought you knew.
"hmm? okay..." he hummed as he sat down in front of you, "what did you wanna talk about, pretty? oh, before that, i got you a gift! do you like it?" he says as he presented you a big box of chocolates that would probably take you weeks to finish. he was always like this, wasn't he? showering you with love and gifts, burying you with compliments every time he knows you're about to slip away to make sure you shut up and forget about the messed up things he did.
"it's not about the chocolates, dazai," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
he frowned, confusion flickering across his features before he plastered on a charming smile. "of course, my love. what's on your mind? you know you can tell me anything," he said, his voice oozing with faux sincerity.
you took a deep breath, gathering the courage to lay bare the truth. "i know about the other women, dazai," you said, your voice trembling with suppressed emotion. "i know about the lies, where you've been going all these nights. i can't do this anymore."
for a moment, there was silence, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. and then, with a scoff, he leaned back in his chair, his smile slipping into a sneer.
"oh, is that what this is about?" he said, his tone dripping with condescension. "you really think you can just walk away from me? after everything I've done for you?"
"i deserve better than this, dazai," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the roaring storm of emotions inside you.
but he just laughed, a cold, mocking sound that sent shivers down your spine. "deserve better? you think anyone else would put up with you?" he spat, his eyes ablaze with contempt. "you're lucky to have me, y/n."
with a heavy heart, you rose from your seat, the weight of his words like chains around your ankles. you wanted to scream, to lash out at him for the pain he had inflicted, but you knew it would only fuel his cruel satisfaction.
instead, you turned away, your resolve hardening with each step you took toward the door. his laughter followed you, a haunting echo reverberated in the empty space between you.
"you'll be back," he called after you, his voice laced with venom. "you always come back."
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© — hopleii
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anathemaspeaks · 2 days
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Could I request number 23 and 24 with Grimmjow x reader? 💙✨
hey! here you go 🩷
check out my prompt list, and send in your own requests.
prompts #23 and #24:
"quit looking at me, you’re making me nervous."
"do you know how to knock?"
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you stepped into the bath, the warm water melting away all of your troubles. you let yourself relax under the steady stream of the shower, feeling the tension leave your muscles.
after a while, you dried yourself up and stepped into your cozy hotel room. you and grimmjow had just finished a job, opting to stay at a nearby hotel for the night. you both had separate rooms, unfortunately.
exhausted from the day's exertion, you flopped onto the bed. you looked around for your phone, but you couldn't find it anywhere. you decided to go check grimmjow's room - maybe he knew where it was.
you just hoped he wouldn't get annoyed and do something stupid like break your phone. since his room was right next to yours, it wasn't much of a walk. you twisted the knob and opened-
wow.
and right in front of you was grimmjow. in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. damp, ocean blue hair sticking to his forehead, water droplets falling from his face, trailing down his neck and down to his glistening, sculpted abs.
you've never been jealous of water before.
"do you know how to knock, brat?" he huffed, face now slightly pink from you seeing him a state like this. his eyes bored straight into yours, the sheer intensity of his piercing blue eyes had you buckling at the knees.
"o-oh! right, i was going to, but i thought i'd be disturbing you- and i'm looking for my phone- and you'd be tired and - sorry!" you rambled, your voice an octave higher than normal, face heating up at the way you could see every muscle moving. you couldn't look away, god, he looked gorgeous.
"quit looking at me, you're making me nervous" he muttered, turning away from you. you froze. he wasn't angry? you made him nervous?
you don't know if it was the deliriousness you felt after seeing his shirtless body, or the exhaustion from the day's work, but you felt a sudden surge of confidence. you make him nervous.
"i can't" you admitted, hesitantly. you were testing the waters, it was his move now. the air crackled with unvocalized tension. his eyes met yours again, an unrecognizable emotion in the pools of his irises.
"because?" he asked, voice deep and soft, sending goosebumps across your arms. taking a shaky breath, you inched closer, the butterflies in your stomach amplifying by the second.
"'cause you look really, really good" you managed, voice just above a whisper.
"you're playin' a dangerous game, brat. jus' look for your damn phone and go to sleep" he said, eyes avoiding yours once again, chest rising and falling along with his breaths. now you were only a foot apart from each other.
"admit it, grimm, we work well together, as much as you'd hate to acknowledge it" you stated. that damn nickname again, why did he even let you call him that? why did he let you work with him all the time?
"'s that what you're gonna call it, brat?" he scoffed. he moved one step closer, placing a calloused hand on the side of your jaw. his touch sent shivers down your spine, he was even more ethereal up close.
"always pushin' your luck" he said softly. a challenge.
"mm, but you like it that way" you teased, sending a playful smile his way while batting your eyelashes up at him.
he didn't respond, eyes locked onto yours, you could just drown in his. being so close to him was intoxicating, the feel of his palm on the side of your face felt so warm.
"and what if i do?" he whispered, accepting the truth. he loved the pretty smile on your face when you two would bicker, sweet giggles escaping your mouth at his half-assed insults. you made his heart flutter, you made him nervous.
fuck.
could you hear his heart beat? you were so close that he could hear you breathing. he was sweating even more now.
he looked so handsome like this, face pink, nervousness in his demeanour, water still dripping off his god-like body, hair wet and clinging to his forehead.
you couldn't help it, you wrapped your arms around his neck as he shifted his down to your waist. he leaned in, his grip on you so gentle, before finally kissing you.
his lips were warm and demanding, yet surprisingly so tender. you melted into him, hands running down his shoulders, across the broad expanse of his back, feeling every muscle relax under your touch.
you tangled a hand into his soft blue hair, tugging at it, breathless gasps escaping both of your mouths. when you finally broke away, it was solely due to the lack of oxygen.
he pulled away reluctantly, his forehead resting against yours. his chest heaved with exertion, eyes searching your face, his full attention only on you.
the next morning, you woke up next to him. tangled in the sheets, his toned arms wrapped around you, you realized you forgot to find your phone. after a while of searching, you found it in his jacket pocket. right as you were about to accuse him-
"it fell on the way here, so i picked it up is all. don't think too much of it" you smiled anyways.
"you want me so bad"
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i hope you liked itt <3
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damagedintellect · 2 days
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ADA Dazai x Reader
💌Obligatory sex pollen fic I guess?? chapter 2💌
Summary: Certain abilities Dazai can dispel outright without touching the user. This has always confused the brunette greatly where the technical line was drawn. During Q's apocalypse, he couldn't bring individuals back to their senses but with Shiwabusa's fog he could prevent Chuuya’s ability from manifesting. Apparently this “Sex pollen” ability was more like the former example. Which left Dazai the only one conscious of their actions as everyone fucked like rabbits.
Notes: Based on a dream I had a few nights ago....This chapter is shorter because I started waking up once I realized it was THAT DREAM, I'm literally crying it got a second chapter some one help😭
Contains: sex pollen, dubcon, pregnancy, mpreg, pregnant Fyodor, Fyodor being painfully religious, 🍋 in chapter 1
💌 Wordcount 1,971 💌 Chapter 2 of ?? [If I have another dream I am obligated to update this] <= Previous chapter
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Just like that for a few weeks everything was back to some semblance of normalcy. Out of sight out of mind you guess. Once you stopped feeling sick all the time you could hardly tell you were pregnant at all. You were still confined to the office since it would take anywhere from 3 to 6 months to fully heal from your injuries but that was fine with you. Honestly you don’t understand how Dazai does it. You've been pampered by Yosano's ability. It didn't even occur to you that you'd still have to have some sort of physical therapy afterwards either. Meanwhile Dazai gets shot and stabbed all the goddamn time and he takes it like a champ. Just one more reason to like him you guess.
Dazai looked up to catch you staring. You didn’t look away but your face did start to feel warm. You hadn’t really sat down and talked about it in depth yet. That night or about the child and honestly no one in the office has really tried to bring it up either. Although you still don't know what to say, sooner or later someone has to say something and hopefully it won't have to be you. Unfortunately you have a feeling it's going to be you.
Dazai glanced at the door and frowned. He's been trying to avoid any meaningful confrontation but judging from the sounds outside he swallowed. He knew those footsteps better than anyone and it was only a matter of time before “he” showed up. This might as well be happening today. Without warning Chuuya emerged from the doorway looking annoyed. 
“Okay, which one of you is the weretiger!”
Atsushi hesitantly raised his hand. You raised an eyebrow at the exchange. What was the mafia executive doing looking for Atsushi? Dazai sighed and rose to his feet, putting an arm around Atsushi as Chuuya approached the two. 
“Why Chuuya, what brings you out to our domain! I almost didn't see you there, have you gotten shorter?” He smiles cheerfully. You swear you could see flowers and sparkles surrounding him.
Chuuya crossed his arms “Go to hell and wait your turn. I have a bone to pick with you after I square away business with the tiger boy.” He glared at Atsushi, sizing him up. “And you, my boy Akutagawa hasn't been the same since your guy's little rescue operation. Mind telling me why that is?” It was surprisingly less threatening and more of a genuine question.
Atsushi’s face flushed a few shades darker “Why don't you ask him! He's the one who-” He stopped mid sentence, groaning. He figured Akutagawa wouldn't talk about it to anyone either but being asked directly because Akutagawa was out of sorts was insulting. How did he think Atsushi felt? “You know what, the bottom line is I'm pregnant and it's his fault he used his stupid ability like that. If anything I should be the one who's traumatized!” 
Chuuya hummed, putting his hand under his chin as he thought about an earlier encounter. “Oh so that's why he was muttering about being bound to the weretiger. He was saying something about not even holding hands yet and having to marry you. Guess that makes me the godfather for two babies then.” the redhead shrugged like this conversation was an everyday occurrence.
Atsushi slouched, was this karma for trying to suggest that Fyodor and Nikolai should get married? 
“Don’t tell me Akutagawa is religious too.”
Chuuya furrowed his eyebrows. “What? No listen kid, this is about stepping up to responsibilities. Raising a kid's a big deal.” He looked over at Dazai with a smirk about to add one more thing but Dazai interjected, flicking the brim of Chuuya's hat.
He continued to wave his hand in the other's face. “Who said you were the godfather? I don't remember calling you.” Both of their expressions went flat for a moment as they glared at each other passively.
“You should have, it would have been better to hear the news from you than from Mori.” He huffed “Why didn't you? It's not like you to go back on your word. What happened too, I wouldn't lie about something like this.” He mocked in a Dazai like fashion.
“I thought you were too drunk to remember that!” Dazai whined.
“Yeah well I also remember promising to be your best man if you ever lived long enough to find someone.” Chuuya leaned back into his hip “So?” the redhead crossed his arms, waiting.
“So what?” Dazai said matter of factly. As the two stared back at each other, Atsushi finally sat down. Why did they have to do this at his desk?
“So what? You're not even going to introduce me!”
Dazai rolled his eyes. Is that really what Chuuya came here for? When Chuuya walked in you had gotten up from your desk to make tea. As you brought the cups over Dazai walked around you and put his hand on your shoulder “(Y/N), Chuuya, Chuuya, (Y/N). There, you happy?”
“Wait (Y/N)? You mean your-” Dazai cut him off but Chuuya looked surprised. You wonder what he was going to say. It sounded important.
Dazai pankicked and grabbed the other from behind covering his mouth as he dragged him out into the hallway. “Nope that's it you overstayed your welcome.” 
Once the door shut Ranpo pouted “I'm pregnant too ya know. I wouldn't mind Mr. Fancy hat being the godfather.” He puffed out his cheeks.
Atsushi rolled his eyes. “That's all you got from that!”
Ranpo sighed “No, I also got the image of Akutagawa tying you up so thanks for that.” 
Atsushi stood up so fast his chair nearly fell over. “How can everybody speak about it so casually!” 
He looked over to you with pleading eyes. Atsushi was probably hoping you'd back him up. Instead you laughed, handing him the disregarded tea. 
“Well for starters only the adults are here today and the more you talk about it the less power it has.” You handed the detective another cup. “Although instead of putting you on the spot Ranpo should have asked if you wanted to talk about it first or at least opened up about his experience.”
He took a sip of tea before shrugging. Ranpo didn't mind sharing at all in fact he’s glad someone asked about it. “Not much to say really. Poe hugged me from behind and by the time I realized he wasn't doing it to be cute I just kinda went with it.” Ranpo shrugged with a smile on his face. “I'm more curious what happened with Kunikida!”
The blonde tensed as you set the last cup down in front of him. He had stopped his typing as a bead of sweat dripped down the side of his face. “Do I have too?” Out of everyone in the office Kunikida had been the one trying the hardest to skirt around the conversations. He wanted to forget it ever happened. It was bad enough that Dazai would tease him about it whenever they were alone.
Ranpo hummed “Akiko's really careful because she could never give up drinking for that long, so since you're not forced into being a dad, dealer's choice?” You all nodded in agreement, it only seemed fair since you were putting him on the spot.
Kunikida pushed up his glasses. You assume he probably doesn't want to share. Instead he turns to address you. “Which reminds me, I thought Yosano gave you a contraceptive too?”
“I was so exhausted I forgot it was in my pocket and never took it.” You frowned. It didn't feel like a priority in the moment but like most of them you were out of it. “But forced parenting aside, right now this is about sexual trauma.”
 Kunikida cleared his throat “I wouldn't know what to share. I turned to look at Yosano and the next thing I know we're kissing in a passionate manner.” He paused wondering if he should say something about the elephant in the room. “Also this should go without saying, but no one is forcing you to be a parent. Ranpo and Atsushi might not have a choice but there's still plenty of time for you to think it over. No one would stop you if you decided you're not ready to be a mother.” This was true but your mind was already made up. 
Somehow only Ranpo knew of your crush? You thought it was fairly obvious. Had it been anyone else you probably would have gotten rid of it by now. 
Ranpo laughed before you could answer, sharing his two cents. “Who said I don't have a choice? I'm choosing to have this little munchkin! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity to see what me and Poe create. Besides, I've always wanted a mini me!” He patted his stomach proudly.
Atsushi sipped on his tea “That's true. So in a weird way it kind of worked out for you and Poe huh. At least one of us lucked out.” He’s been avoiding Akutagawa as much as possible ever since that night.
Ranpo snickered, “I would say two of us lucked out.” He draped one around your shoulder opening his eyes to give you a smug look. “Well you care to share with the class? This was your idea after all.” 
So that’s why he bothered to bring all of this up. You sighed in defeat. “Lucked out my ass!” Your cheeks were red as Atsushi and Kunikida gave you incredulous looks “Keep in mind Dazai was fully conscious of his actions. He kind of just let me get it out of my system in hope that I would eventually snap out of it,” You groaned hiding your face in your hands “and yes, apparently I was begging him to fuck a baby into me. Is that what you wanted to hear, Ranpo!”
Ranpo blinked a few times “You didn't have to go that far but yeah I was just trying to get you to mention your crush on Dazai.”
“You have a crush on Dazai?!” Both Atsushi and Kunikida shouted. Kunikida nearly spat out his tea. You groaned “That’s why I was planning on keeping the child but I feel like I'd be baby trapping him.”
“It’s not baby trapping if you decide to keep the child, it's your body. I already told you that you have the final say.”
Everyone slowly turned their heads back to see Dazai coming back into the office. You swallowed “How much of that did you hear?”
“Not much but you already told me your reason for wanting to keep the kid.” He shrugged nonchalantly and everyone wiped their heads back to you.
Atsushi was dumbfounded. “Wait a second, let me get this straight. He knows that you-”
Dazai spoke over him. “-Always wanted kids, it's not that big of a deal. Unless that's not what we're talking about?” He tilted his head to the side. Did he miss something? It took a lot out of him to turn Chuuya away especially after the stupid slug made his own revelations about the situation. 
You released the breath you were holding. Everyone else understood Dazai was just as oblivious to your feelings as always. Eventually you would have to tell him but it was still early enough in the process to figure that out. At least everyone else in the office knew why you’ve been acting weird since that night.
Kunikida groaned at the realization. “I don't know if I can handle a mini Ranpo running around, let alone a mini Dazai.” He went back to his work. “It’s bad enough having to work with Dazai as is.”
You laughed as the two tried to defend themselves.
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starfxkr · 7 hours
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hiii so domspace jj x kitten 🤗
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
you were whimpering from the second jj wrapped his massive bicep around your throat, forcing you to remain flush against his sweaty body as he dragged you kicking and snarling back into the house.
neither of you know exactly what caused it, maybe it was the heat--a storm was heading its way towards the island and it was just the two of you, trapped at your house as you waited for it to come. maybe it was the cabin fever. whatever it was, you'd been a bitch all day, complaining and snapping at him for the smallest infractions until you got the bright idea to go rushing out the house like there was anywhere for you to go.
asking you to come back inside did nothing--so he forced you instead, fighting to get ahold of you until he wrapped you in a firm headlock with his other arm around your waist and practically throwing you on the ground.
"you wanna tell me what the fuck your problem is? i haven't done anything to you." it was very obvious jj was at the end of his rope, and if you were smart you would have sensed the charge in the air buzzing around you.
sometimes you let your anger get the best of you.
"fuck you! i'm so fuckin sick of having to look at you all day."
jj just blinks, he's almost eerily calm when he stares down at you-- fingers flexing, jaw clenched tight, "okay."
"wha-?" before you can comprehend what's going on he's hauling you up by the front of your shirt, you're barely off the ground as he drags you to your room, "let me go!"
he's not listening, instead he just bends you over the edge of the bed, not at all caring about the way the floor bites into your knees.
"sick of lookin at me? fine, then don't" his blunt nails scratch your skin as he yanks your clothes off, a strong hand keeping your head pressed against the mattress.
your legs are unceremoniously shoved open and you shiver when the humid air hits your quickly dampening cunt, he spreads you open with two fingers, letting out a mean scoff at the sight.
"for someone who's this fuckin mad, you sure are wet pussycat." that's as much of a warning you get when he roughly shoves himself into you, smacking his hips against your ass so hard he has to grab the back of your neck to stop you from sliding off the bed.
"i fuckin hate you, jj get the fuck off." you're still fighting, trying not to let yourself sink into the space you know he wants you to go, reaching back to smack at his arms and face before he pins you and you gasp.
every thrust makes you whine in overstimulation, he's everywhere--the hand on your neck has shifted to stuff two fingers in your mouth, pressing down hard on the back of your tongue to make you gag, the other digging into your soft tummy to drag you back to meet each rough thrust, his sweaty torso pressed against your back, the musky smell of him filling your senses.
jj feels beside himself, each little jingle of the bell around your neck makes his dick throb inside your creaming pussy. he cant tell where you stop and he begins, he can feel your heart thumping through your back, but it might also be his. maybe you're trembling, maybe it's him, but the need to put you in your place is enough to keep him going.
"stop fuckin whining, you wanted this, i can feel that little pussy tryna milk me dry. you're making me do this to you sugar, so shut the fuck up." the fingers in your mouth press one more time and with a hiccup you spit up over his fingers making him groan.
"s'what the fuck you get, i tried being nice to you all day but this is what you wanted." he presses your face in the mess, ignoring your whimper when he pulls out.
"nonono, papa don't go m'sorry."
there it is, that's what he wanted, that hazy faraway look in your eyes and your pussy spasming from your quickly fading orgasm, tears are beginning to clump in your lashes when he pulls you fully onto the bed and flips you over and you sob.
"don't cry now, i'm givin you what you asked for." he pushes your legs up to your chest and sinks back in with a grunt, once again pinning you under him.
"i'msorryi'msorrypleasecanihaveakissi'llbegood." you're blubbering now, doing your best to grab at him from where your arms are trapped between your bodies.
jj knows when you cum--your eyes slam shut and tears trail down your cheeks as you let out a choked gasp. you're completely silent outside of a soft clicking sound that comes from the back of your throat every couple seconds and he'd be worried that you'll pass out.
he would. if the sight didn't make his vision blur when his orgasm hit him like a punch to the back of the head.
his hips begin to stutter when he presses them flush against yours, digging his fingers into your thighs hard enough to bruise. there's an urge to sink his teeth into your cheek and he does, licking up your salty tears as he fills your cunt until its spills and drips onto the sheets.
when he finally lets go of your soft cheek he sees you flinch, there's an imprint of his teeth that he kisses until your breathing evens out and your heartbeat slows.
"you aight?" he noses at your jaw and you nod, you're practically purring and he can't believe how content you look. "I'm about to pull out."
"o-okay." your voice is hoarse, thighs trembling as he slides out and maneuvers your body into a more comfortable position on your stomach.
everything feels brighter, your skin sensitive as he kisses down your spine, pausing to nibble at the tattoo on the back of your neck.
by the time he cleans the both of you up, you're curled up in his lap, sleeping when the storm finally starts raging outside.
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jsprnt · 3 days
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you’re pretty upset when you spot your husband not wearing his ring in a recent video
andrew robertson x reader
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A/N: a tricky one, but I think I made it work ;) thank you for requesting!
W/C: 1.427
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a wedding ring
to some, it’s a tangible object that is meant to symbolize the unification of two people. to others, a ring wasn't that much of importance, even paper rings would suffice to signify the love two individuals have for each other.
you were part of the first group. you had never even dreamed of taking the rock off your finger. the only exception being when you needed to get your hands dirty when cooking up some delicious food.
of course, the glimmering diamond on your ring finger was absolutely breathtaking. carefully chosen by your husband. suited exactly to your personal style and taste.
it was something you also tried to do for him. you didn't want to gift him a boring, silver wedding band, bland and basic. so, you'd visited multiple different jewelers until you found the right one.
then, imagine how pissed off you are when you're scrolling on your phone, only to see a video of your husband not wearing his ring during a recent press conference concerning his upcoming match.
you glance down at your own wedding ring, getting more and more irritated by the second.
your husband wasn't even home from training yet, which allowed your anger to boil up ever more, because you couldn’t ask him about it immediately.
you finally turn your phone off, grumbling to yourself, and get up to do some last minute work around the house. it was your turn to make dinner tonight. safe to say those vegetables were chopped too finely due to the fury you couldn’t contain.
andrew usually came home right on time for dinner. so, you decide to eat dinner early, just to interact less with him.
you were being petty, but you felt like him not wearing his wedding ring shouldn't go unpunished.
the front door opens half an hour later, your husband calling out to you from the entrance.
you ignore him, too focused on washing the dishes you used, to answer him, knowing it would become a childish argument.
"sweetheart? are you home?" he calls out, the confusion in his voice audible. you can hear him zip his jacket off, and the jingling of his keys, which he hangs up on the little sculpture you bought to spruce up the entrance.
again, you refuse to answer. drying the washed dishes with the gray kitchen towel and placing them back in the cupboard.
"bonnie?"
you try to ignore the sweet scottish nickname he loved using, too focused on cleaning up.
you can hear some footsteps come closer, his shoes paddling against the gray floorboards.
you decide to turn around when you can feel how close he is. watching his arm reach over to bring you into a tight embrace. though, you move right on time to avoid his touch. escaping from underneath his arms.
he gasps, brows furrowing at your sudden behavior. you were fine this morning, happy as ever, only a little sad about him leaving so early for training.
so, why would you be avoiding his hugs, let alone his touch?
"love, what's wrong?" he asks, trying to analyze your facial expression.
"nothing.." you mumble, avoiding eye contact. your arms folded defensively.
"do you want a hug?" he asks, wondering if you need comfort. he inches closer, but you decide that to be petty - so you shake your head.
"that involves physical contact, and that's gross, so no." you deadpan, words harsh and stubborn.
‘gross?’ he thinks, frowning at your choice of words.
"eat dinner, table's set.." you add, voice quiet.
you immediately turn away, sulking when you catch glimpse of your ring again.
you can hear him call out to you, but you keep on walking up the stairs and step into your bedroom. maybe the comfort of the soft pillows and firm mattress will help instead.
"love, can you please tell me what's wrong?" he pleads, hand stopping you from closing the door.
you gnaw on your bottom lip, sighing while looking at him.
"just give me a moment.." you state, his eyes warm up, realizing you probably wanted a minute to yourself to sort your thoughts out.
"okay, I'll have dinner then..I’m going to come back later..." his voice is soft, just like how he speaks to you when you're crying over something or are feeling particularly down on dark, cloudy days.
guilt immediately creeps up on you. maybe you were being too petty and rude?
no, you always wear your ring- why wouldn't he?
you close the door in his face, shuffling to your bed and pulling the covers over your body.
all different types of thoughts go through your head. were you too dramatic, or were you rightfully upset? was this approach even a good one?
it doesn't take too much time, as you hear a knock on your bedroom door. you shift and turn, sitting up in bed.
"come in.." you mumble, fidgeting with your fingers.
andy steps inside slowly, his eyebrows raising at the sight of your defeated-looking figure.
"bonnie.." he begins, getting into the bed next to you.
"we're literally married. if you're angry at me, just tell me.." he says, hand reaching to carefully touch your hand. eyes on your face to detect any irritation or sadness on your face.
you look up at him when he grips your hand, his bigger hands entangled with yours. your eyes flicker around, finally making eye contact with him.
he can practically read all of the emotions you hold in your eyes after all these years together.
"won't you tell me, sweetheart? are you angry?"
he encourages, thumb running over your knuckles.
"yes, I’m angry- is that what you want to know?"
"about what?"
you sigh, a little embarrassed now.
"you love me, right?"
you notice the confusion and surprise on your husband's face, he starts nodding the moment the question leaves your mouth.
"of course, I love you.. with every part of my being.." he whispers, leaning in closer.
"then why did I see a video of you not wearing your ring?" you confront, facial expression hardening. 
"what are you talking about?"
you grab your phone off the nightstand, showing him the evidence that had you spiraling for the past hour or two.
"bonnie.." he begins, a chuckle leaving his lips.
you almost lash out at him when he laughs. was your sadness funny to him?
"come 'ere.." he urges, patting his lap. you eye him for a moment, but don’t fight back when he pulls you onto his lap.
"listen to me, ye?"
you nod, waiting to hear his explanation.
"remember when we talked about our wedding rings last month?"
you nod, tilting your head in confusion.
"and don't you remember me telling you I had to get mine cleaned?" he asks, thumb making soft and soothing circles on your knee.
you freeze, heat from embarrassment creeping up on your face. you groan, covering your face with your hands, moving your head away.
"hey, look at me, ye?" he says, trying to pry your hands away from your face.
"there's my love's precious face.." he coos, grinning softly at your cute behavior.
he raises his hand, showing off the wedding band that is clearly on his finger.
"you know, I wear it all the time except for training and during matches. if I was allowed to wear it I would..” he reminds you, leaning in to kiss your forehead tenderly.
"I wear mine constantly, just like you do. it's as important to me, as it is to you. you got that?" he asks, running his hand down your back.
you hum, feeling silly and stupid for fretting over something so easily explained away.
"I'm sorry, kind of stupid of me to assume.." you trail off, looking into his brown eyes.
"it's alright, I understand the confusion, but please just ask me about something that’s bothering you, before you start to ignore me?"
you nod, pressing your cheek against his chest.
"I will, I'll ask you before assuming.."
he chuckles, pressing a kiss on your head. the sound makes his chest rumble, in turn, you feel the vibrations on your cheek.
your husband would do anything to please his partner. so, don't you be surprised the next time he comes home with a tattoo on his ring finger.
yes, the needle pressing against the bone of his knuckle hurt like a bitch. but, if it meant he could ease your mind and wear a symbol of his love for you 24/7. he would do it without hesitation.
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dxvxx · 3 days
Text
It's Exit Exam day and i'm exhausted.
The wannabe overdue acrobat in my belly kicking me for all his worth isn't helping either. I waddle out of my bathroom naked and dripping wet, not bothering with a towel, even the biggest ones stopped covering my body after the second trimester.
I rub my bump as i check my phone and send William a text reassuring him that i'm fine before i open my closet and rifle through it.
I gave up on wearing my maternity jeans a month ago, so i bypass those and pick out a pale beige sundress.
Grabbing it, i shuffle to the mirror to try to see if it would even fit me. Looking at me, you'd think i'm carrying twins with how big my bump had gotten.
I hear the faint sound of my apartment unlocking and smile when, soon after, my boyfriend strides into my bedroom, looking edible in his black slacks and black button-down shirt.
I rub my thighs, looking at his rolled up sleeves and veiny tattooed forearms.
"Babe," it comes out as a whine as i look up at him. Up, because William is a 6'5 "muscled giant of a man while i'm 5'3 and petite, or at least, i used to be petite. "I told you i'm okay." I murmur but lean back against him greedily as he hugs my naked body from behind. He lifts up the weight of my heavy belly off my hips, just the way i like, and i can't help the moan of relief that escapes. "Mmm.."
"Couldn't help myself," he rumbles, dragging his nose up my neck, right to one of my sensitive spots, breathing in my shampoo. I tilt my neck, giving him more access, letting out another soft moan as i feel myself get wet.
I rub the top of my bump just enjoying being near him, but i have to ask..."No- mhmm- one saw you, right?" Even though i know he's always careful.
William is a professor at my college. We met 2 years ago when i was in a class of his and we have been dating on the downlow ever since.
While i'm no longer a student of his, it's still frowned upon and could lead to serious trouble so we're keeping it quiet until i graduate next month.
That's why he moved me out of the dorms and is renting me an off-campus apartment near his house. Something he keeps grumbling about because 'you're not close enough.' I'm pretty sure if i let him have his way, we'd already have been married by now.
He doesn't respond as he trails kisses up and down my neck, nipping and sucking, leaving me breathless and squirming "Wiiiilll" i whine.
My libido has been in overdrive ever since i got pregnant at the end of summer and had increased even more in my last trimester. The barest of touches or even friction from my clothes has me panting like a bitch in heat.
Something William takes great delight in.
"Have i told you how gorgeous you are so full and heavy with my son?" He growls while leaving hickeys on my neck. He tells me every day. William has always been possessive and overprotective, but he had doubled down ever since i started showing.
He cups my bare pussy murmuring out a rough "mine" in my ear. I'm so wet i drip a bit on his hand as i look in the mirror.
It's a sight.
My belly heavy and round, with the skin a bit pink, overstretched and taut with William's tattooed arms wrapped around it.
My heavy breasts that have doubled in size are aching with my rosy nipples pebbled, begging to be touched.
William's hardened length is nestled against my naked ass cheeks.
It's all too much.
My hips roll trying to get something, anything, but he just cups it, giving me a warning squeeze i ignore. "Don't tease mmhm meeee." i half moan half whine. That earns me a slap on my pussy. The sting shoots up straight to my needy clit and i whimper "ooh fuckk."
Two of his thick fingers tease my entrance before he thrusts them home, using his thumb to rub my clit in slow agonizing lazy circles that have me bucking against his hand desperate for more but he keeps his fingers still.
I know what he's doing, punishing me for refusing to stay home this past week, when i officially reached my due date and passed it.
I get more desperate, rolling my hips harder, trying and failing to get him moving, to give me anything. He smirks in my neck, proud of himself, and i'm close to losing it, delirious with lust and need.
"William Ivan Carmichael, I swear to- Ooomph.." He takes out his dripping fingers and stuffs them into my mouth, effectively shutting up my threat.
Fine, two can play at this game, damn it.
I suck his fingers in, swirling my tongue around them like i do with his dick humming as i lick my juices off his skin. He thrusts them deeper down my throat, lazily pumping them before he pulls out and whirls me around. The movement makes my bump jiggle before he claims my mouth in a hungry kiss.
I'm panting and aching by the time he releases me. I don't have time to process or protest as he lets me go, slaps my ass, picks up the discarded dress off the floor, and flings it at me.
He adjusts himself in his pants and says in a rough voice, "Get dressed, you don't want to be late. I'll see you in the Exam hall."
And he... leaves. Just like that.
The Bastard.
I glare weakly after him and collapse on my bed then immediately regret it and moan "ooohh" At the feel of my sheets creating friction against my aching cunt.
I rub my bump restlessly and nibble my bottom lip. I could give myself an orgasm, could even use the toys in our expansive collection, but...it's not enough, it never is. Nothing comes even close to him, to his skilled, pierced dick and his wicked filthy mouth.
"Your daddy is gonna be the death of me" i whisper to our son before i heave myself up and off the bed with a soft grunt.
William doesn't get it. I want to finish my BSN nursing degree. I don't want and will not drop out or delay my diploma another year. That's just a waste of time and money.
I open my underwear drawer and pull out a lacy black set, then think for a bit and return the bra only pulling on the thong. Anything against my nipples right now will be torturous.
I sigh as i pull on the dress next and wince at how it looks in the mirror then try to make it less tantalizing. It used to fit me and reach just before my knees but with my bump...it barely reaches my thighs not to mention how much cleavage it's showing.
But...fuck it. I'm too horny and too pregnant and too tired to care much anymore.
I stuff my swollen feet in a pair of ballerina flats, fluff up my blonde hair a bit then grab my bag and keys. Making my way out of the door, i stop and rub my belly. It feels really uncomfortable today, hotter and tighter than it has all week.
With a sigh, i keep walking, although much slower, and lock the door before i start going down the stairs.
It doesn't matter. I just have to get through the three hours Exam while trying to ignore the urge to jump William right on top of the desk he's gonna be monitoring us from.
Then we'll come back here and i'll demand he fucks me six ways to Sunday then he'll punish me, in panty melting ways for using that tone with him then...
My horny thoughts stopped abruptly, and i let out a startled gasp, widening my legs. I rub both sides of my bump as the baby drops lower, applying pressure on my lower belly and my already aching pussy.
Well, Fuck.
(This is part 1. Let me know if you're interested in part 2, maybe 3.)
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featured character ☆ itoshi sae
tag(s): fluff! ☆
apologies if this is out of character, again TT TT
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        It was two o'clock in the morning and you couldn't fall asleep. Sae, who was next to you, his head, nuzzling against your back, was sleeping peacefully. It was cute to see him soundlessly sleeping against you but that's not the reason why you couldn't fall asleep. You grabbed your phone from the wooden night stand next to you and started going on Instagram. You were scrolling and saw that some of your friends were posting pictures of places they were going with their partner. But of course, Sae always comes home late, either training or having a soccer tournament. What are the chances of him spending quality time with you or go on outings? Quite rare to be honest. You then go on Google to search up "Things to do for couples", the results were going to a cafe or hiking, maybe going to an expensive mall but obviously you don't need anything from expensive malls since they're all Chanel or Louis Vuitton, fancy fancy fancy brands...  You could feel Sae shift positions. The next thing you knew, he was awake, rubbing his right eye. Although your phone's brightness was on the lowest, he still somehow woke up. "Y/n? How come you're still awake?" he asks, perhaps still half awake. He then turns on the mini white ceramic lamp next to him. You turn of your phone and held it tight, "Um... The thing is, I couldn't fall asleep. Because I wanted to do something fun with you tomorrow, like a date. But I mean, you don't have to go with me and I'm aware that you don't have much time either... I was just researching places to go, nothing else." You let out a small, weak smile, in the process of battling the urge of wanting to cry a little since you barely got to spend time with Sae. Suddenly, Sae got up, walked to the nightstand next to you and kneeled down. He opened the lowest drawer and got out a folded sheet of paper, written with black ink. He then hands the piece of lined paper to you. "Here, it's a list of all the things we could do together. The front has outdoor and indoor activities and the back has things we could do at home..." Sae looked away, from slight embarrassment. His cheeks were lightly tinted with a shade of pink, and he definitely avoided eye contact with you.
        Your face instantly lights up, eyes widened completely. "When did you have time for all of this?!" "I wrote it during breaktime, since I was bored. Everyone wanted to know what I was writing..." You bursted out laughing, "What did you tell them? I'm so curious!" "I told them directly that it was for you..." your face was instantly flushed with pink. There was a long pause of awkward silence until Sae pointed at the list of activities "Go ahead, you can pick anything." you nodded, to agree. Still, it was quite shocking that he told everyone that he was dating you, etc. You looked at the sheet of paper and the following list of activities listed. You then made up your mind, wanting to go to a café with Sae. "Hey, should we go to a café and walk around after?" "Anything you'd like." Sae smiled. You jump on Sae and gave him a big hug, smiling with joy. Sae gave you a kiss on the lips, and your cheeks. The two of you continue to stay in each other's embrace. 
       "Say, when do you want to go to that café?" you ask curiously, looking up at Sae. Sae didn't answer until ten seconds later, "Today. At ten o'clock, we'll leave." "Sounds like a plan." a few minutes later, your eyelids start to feel heavy and you doze off, still embracing Sae. He gently strokes pieces of your hair, tucking a piece behind your ear. "You need to regain energy first before getting all excited..." he whispered then let out a soft chuckle. 
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ty for reading!! just a short drabble i wanted to write, not very long or detailed either.
-fuyuko
©fuyukohasnocreativity do not copy, repost, or translate. likes and reblogs are accepted and appreciated!
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