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#it wouldn’t be bad to sound like that but i like the idea of a real deep voice now too
aliidarling · 2 days
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using you
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RICK GRIMES X fem!reader
nsfw content — scroll if uncomfortable!!
summary: rick takes his anger out on you after lori's death because he's a self projecting loser and wants u really bad
warnings: p in v, no foreplay, rough sex, pussy slapping, age gap, degradation, mean rick, fingering, anal threats LOL, self projecting rick, old lonely rick, sweetish rick at the end ig
btw thank u everyone for sending me ideas for male manipulator rick pt.2 :) I'm definitely gonna take these into thought and write sum
i wrote this in three sittings like a week apart so some parts might not match up...
nsfw content below!!
Rick hadn’t come up from the basement of the prison in almost two days. No one had seen him, leading everyone to question if he was even alive anymore.
The death of Lori had impacted him. The atmosphere was tense, and not many words had been spoken. No one wanted to go down to comfort Rick, not wanting to get snapped at. Angry Rick was something else.
Hershel was the one who recommended you to go down and talk to Rick. At first, you were against it, because why? Carl was his son, Glenn was the first one he met out of everyone, and Daryl was like his brother. There was no reason why you should. You were just one of the younger girls in the group.
“Because he has a soft spot for you, sweetheart.” Hershel says gently, sighing and rubbing his temple. Your brows furrow as you think about his words.
“What? No— Rick hates me,” You scoff.
Every time you had tried to talk to the man he’d order you around and be cold to you, never letting you breathe without getting a stupid scolding. It was walking on eggshells around him.
“No, no.” He chuckles, brushing his hands through his thin white hair. He sits up. “He cares about you in his own little way, okay? You’re the only one here he wouldn’t hurt. Not that he’d hurt anyone else— but…” He groans. “You know what I mean.” 
You frown at him, picking at your hair. You reluctantly stand up, tossing your jacket on top of your shirt. “If I don’t come back in an hour, you know what happened.” You grumble dramatically.
He rolls his eyes and waves you off, giving you a little grateful smile.
A few minutes later, you were walking down the staircase into the boiler room, a frown painted onto your expression. You could hear angry muttering and the sound of metal clattering.
Just on your way here you had heard him yelling, you didn’t know at who. It worried you, was he already going crazy? Or was someone else down here with him?
As you walk inside the small, dark room, a messy-looking Rick comes into view. His hair was messy, his curls damp with sweat as he grumbled angrily to himself, leaning against a table.
He quickly turns at the sounds of your footsteps, hands on his hips as he narrows his eyes at your figure. What the hell were you doing here? Did no one get the message that he wanted to be left alone?
“What.” He huffs firmly, his body language cold and distant. He was always mean to you, but this just felt different, like he was a ticking time bomb. It made you shudder as you nervously picked at your hair, stepping closer.
“You’ve been down here for a while, Rick. Everyone’s getting worried.” You said softly, looking up at the older man through your lashes. It felt weird to be so nice and caring to him, he had just lost his wife— you felt bad. Horrible, even.
And a part of you made your guilt ten times stronger knowing you were still attracted to him throughout this whole mess. Even though he had pushed you away so many times, called you names, and ordered you around like a child, you felt connected to him. Like you wanted more than a simple friendship.
But the fact he was mourning his wife's death and all you could think was how good he looked with his shirt half-buttoned and his curls messy? God, you were a horrible person.
A dry chuckle leaves him, the sound echoing in the room, making you shiver. His demeaning attitude towards you has you shrinking, wanting the walls around you to swallow you whole as long as that meant you didn’t have to be alone in a room with him.
“So worried they call you down here out of everyone else?” He scoffs.
Ouch.
“I’m just trying to be here for you, you don’t have to be such a jackass.” You sneered at him.
Once the words left your mouth, you felt kinda bad. He was struggling with his wife’s death, and here you were being rude to him.
A small sigh left you as you stepped forward, hesitantly placing your palm on his bicep, trying to give him a little bit of comfort. It was the least you could do, right? You had managed to screw up your entire friendship with this man, but maybe you could turn it around starting… now?
As he feels your touch on his bicep, he turns to you quickly in response— almost as a reflex— and presses you against the table aggressively. A yelp leaves you as you find yourself being cornered by the large man, looking up at him in shock.
Never mind, jeez.
“You wanna be here for me?” He growled, his hand going to hold your throat, not squeezing but keeping it there as a warning not to cross him.
You give him a shaky nod, not knowing what to say or do that wouldn’t cause his temper to blow. It already blew.. But you knew what he was capable of, and you were scared of getting on his bad side more than you already were.
“Use your words.”
“Yeah, I wanna help you.” You press your lips together nervously, giving him a hesitant nod.
His eyes darken, looking you up and down and weighing the options. He hums lowly, his hands slowly wrapping around your waist, his fingertips pressing into your skin through your shirt.
“Huh.” He can’t help but smile at you, but not a sweet one. A mocking grin. You shuddered.
“How about you start off by bending over that desk then? Since you wanna be good for me so badly.” He laughs darkly, flipping you around smoothly and kicking the back of your knee.
You stumble slightly and find yourself bending over the edge of the desk, a huff leaving you as you flinch in surprise. Instinctively, you try and straighten yourself but he keeps one of his hands pressed on your lower back.
“What are you doing? You know this isn’t what I meant—“ You say breathlessly, not having the power to fight back for some odd reason. The position had you tingling between your legs, your stomach in knots and your mouth dry.
You felt ashamed to be so into this. He was coping in an extremely unhealthy manner— but could you even stop him if you tried? Did you want to?
He ignores your words and grasps the back of your jacket, pulling it off and leaving you in your spaghetti-strapped tank top. It was hot in the prison, could you blame yourself for dressing in thinner clothing?
“Always dressed like a fuckin’ slut, begging for attention from me. Think I don’t notice? Hmm? How you’re always nagging me and trying your damnest to spend time with me?” His words leave him harshly as he leans over to push your hair over your shoulder, leaving your back empty for him without any distractions.
“Don’t say that.” You mutter softly, eyes fluttering as you feel his breath brush over your skin. Goosebumps appeared on your smooth skin, lips pressing together to conceal the heavy exhale you wanted to release.
“Why? Because you know I’m right?” He chuckles dryly. His hands rub over your back, grabbing the end of your top and pulling it up to bunch over your chest. Your heart skips a beat and you try to pull away, but he only pulls you closer, pressing his crotch firmly against your butt. He sighs in relief at the friction, grinding subtly.
The next few minutes are him just grinding against you from behind, muttering a mean ‘shut up’ whenever you’d let out a noise. This was for him. He didn’t care about you— didn’t care that he was leaving you needy and aching, all he wanted was to relieve himself.
“Take your pants off.” He grumbles, leaning back just a few inches to unbuckle his belt. He smoothly pulls it out of his jean loops, and then unzips his fly and pulls his jeans down. He’s fast and aggressive, and soon enough his hard cock is pressing against his lower tummy, his tip red and throbbing.
You blink in surprise, but you try and process his words quickly. Okay. He wants your pants off. This was for him to feel better, just take your damn pants off, dumbass. Don’t make his day worse.
Shakily, you pull your pants down to your ankles, your butt in front of him with your panties hugging your curvy hips. He stares down at you, eyes narrowing at the sight of the damp spot on your panties.
“Slut.” He kicks your legs open with his foot before landing a harsh slap against your pussy, making you cry out. Your brows furrow as you try to suppress your noises as he keeps going at it, his rough palm delivers harsh strikes to your sensitive area.
“O-Ow— Rick!” You whine, wiggling your butt as the slaps have you growing more and more wet. This was so embarrassing!
“Had I known you like gettin’ that pussy slapped I would have done it a lot sooner, sweetie.” He coos mockingly, a low snicker leaving his throat. He parts his hand from your panties. His large fingers grasp into your panties and pull them to the side, nudging your legs further apart and aligning himself with you.
“Take a deep breath, baby.” He huffs before thrusting himself inside you with one stroke, burying himself to the hilt. Your body tenses immediately, eyes watering at the large stretch your insides felt at the intrusion.
You immediately let out a shaky cry, clawing at the table for something to hold onto as you try and adjust to the feeling. His girth was thick, ripping you apart. The lack of foreplay and prep had you wincing.
“Awww, did I hurt ya’? Poor thing, little hole must burn sooo much.” His words sounded so mean, his dark eyes gazing down at your figure. He scanned each inch of your body. Your arch, your hips, waist, your hair— it all looked so good. He wanted to ruin you.
You struggle to speak as you feel him sit nice and snug inside you, your sight going blurry. You whimper like a pathetic puppy into the desk, the cold steel making you cringe and squirm. If he was gonna force himself in your pussy, couldn’t he of at least done it somewhere more comfy?
“S-Screw you,” You groan lowly, your eyes already rolling back. And he hasn’t even started to move yet.
“Mhmm, s’okay sweet girl, I’ll get there.” He hushed you gently. Your doughy flesh is so soft to his rough palms, making him smile as he grips your waist a little tighter. He uses your waist to hold you down as he starts to slowly pull out, leaving just the tip before slamming himself back inside. Not even a rag in your mouth could stop the moan that leaves you, your body wincing in a mix of pain and pleasure.
The next few minutes are messy and full of whimpering and shushing, your body quivering as he keeps thrusting into your hole like there’s no tomorrow. You were just a stress relief for him at the moment— a pretty face with a tight cunt he could fuck for hours.
Yeah, he was mean to you even before he decided to fuck you in this boiler room, but that was only because he didn’t know how to handle his emotions around you! You were a sweet young girl with a cute face and a good rack of tits, always trying to talk to him when he had a wife and a son, could he even interact with you without getting scolded by Lori?
He let out a shaky grunt as he slams his hips into you over and over again, watching your perfect ass jiggle at the force he put into you. Your noises were perfect, he had spent probably hours imagining how you’d sound with him inside you. He couldn’t count the amount of times he had imagined you while he was in bed with Lori. He was a horrible husband, but he blamed you for it. You were the reason of his lack of loyalty, so he may as well punish you for it. You were pretty much asking for it the second you came downstairs with that pretty face.
“Fuck, fuck,” He groans, bending over to press his chest flush against your back and pressing himself against you. He wanted you to feel every damn inch of him, feel how deep he was inside your dumb little pussy and how he made you feel.
“You feel that? Huh? Feel how fuckin’ deep I am inside that needy pussy? Can feel you squeezing me, sweetheart, must feel so good, right?” He shushes your cries as he manages to push his cock deeper, his fat head brushing against your sweet spot that has you clenching down.
“Mhm, feels so good.” You sniffle. He giggled lowly at how pathetic you sounded, almost feeling the urge to comfort you for a second.
He’s wanted this for so long. Half the reason why he was spiraling after Lori’s death was because of the agonizing guilt he felt for still fantasizing about you when he had a whole newborn waiting for him. But now he had you, and he was not gonna let you go, and even if you begged and cried— he had already sunk his claws(cock) deep inside you.
His hand reaches to the front of your neck to grasp it and pull you tighter against him, giving your neck a little squeeze. He hums in approval at how your body tightens around him, his hips picking up speed.
“Good, good, jus’ like that, good girl,” He mumbled, squeezing his hand around your neck just a tiny bit more, loving the expression that fell over your face. A few more long minutes of him inflicting a fast and rough pace that expresses his self-projecting hatred towards you pass, the both of you out of breath and sweating.
“Can I cum? Please?” You whisper shakily, a soft moan coming from you as his thrusts continue. Your lips quiver and struggle to choke out words as you feel him repeatedly slam into your g-spot, eyes watering from the pleasure and your legs going wobbly.
“Oh, oh please, Rick—!” A loud moan escapes your throat before you have time to hold it back. You had been stripped down to a cheap whore bent over a table, but you didn’t care, it felt so good.
He answers your question by squeezing your throat, reaching forward to rub your clit. You clenching down on him has him groaning and almost stuttering with his thrusts, brows furrowing as he starts to get a little sloppy with his rhythm.
Without wasting any time, you feel yourself cumming hard around his cock and spasming, crying out at the force. A few more tears slip as you whimper onto the table, shaky hands grasping at anything to hold onto it.
A crooked grin paints his face as he gazes down at your shaky figure, slowly pulling out and watching his cum drip out of your leaky hole.
He hums and gently picks you up and sits you down on top of the desk, parting your thighs open and pressing the cum back inside you. Your eyes widen slightly in shock as his large finger shoves itself back inside you, making you cry out at the sensitivity you felt.
“R-Rick,” You attempt to plead before he rudely shushes you, crumbling apart as he fingers you open brutally. More tears stream as he watches with an amused glint, taking in the sight of you crying as he shoves his fingers inside your pussy violently.
“You can take it, shush, be a good girl.” He mumbles, sliding them in and out smoothly without any stop, his other hand going to rub at your spent clit. He almost felt bad for you, but then he remembered you were the little brat making him think like an unloyal husband— and he resumed with his torture.
Once he has you coming apart on his fingers again, he slides them out of you and whistles meanly, smirking at his slick-covered fingers. He maintains eye contact with you as he brings them up to your mouth, tapping them against your lips.
“Please don’t.” You whine, trembling in embarrassment. Could this get any more humiliating?!
“Shut up and be a good fuck toy.” He grunts. You shrivel and slowly part your lips, taking his wet fingers and sucking gently, your eyes fluttering shut as you didn’t want to look him in the eye while doing this.
After cleaning his fingers, he parts from you and gives you a once over, scowling.
“You’re not too bad when you’re not being an annoying fuck, y’know. Maybe you should bend over for me more often.” He sniggers, pulling his jeans back up and buckling his belt back on. He tidies up his appearance and gives you a side-eye.
“I’m so telling Hershel.” You grumble, struggling to pull your pants back on with limping legs. He rolls his eyes and aggressively tugs them back on for you. You flinch at the force and almost stumble onto your ass but you eventually have your clothes back on you because of his help. You give him an awkward smile, and he just glares at you in return.
“…I guess you could say I did help you, right?” You grin sheepishly, before gasping softly as he pulls you in for a kiss. He mutters a small “Shut up,” against your lips before interlocking his with yours, his hands wrapping around your waist and pressing your body flush against his.
He parts slowly from you, a small saliva trail showing before dissolving mid-air. He stares down at you, before nudging you in the direction of the exit.
“Don’t tell anyone about this, kay? You tell a soul and I’ll shove it in your butt next time, brat.” He scoffs, turning away and gazing back at the wall like the depressed old man he is.
You can’t help but smile as you walk away.
Next time, huh?
You were a little delusional, but why the hell not?
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everscorner · 2 days
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Something In The Way You Move | The Redemption
Author’s note: I struggled writing this next instalment, and there was a lot of chopping and changing, so apologies for the late update. There’s one final part after this, and the plan is to have it out by mid-May. In terms of their apartment, this is how I pictured it but feel free to switch it up. This is only for fictional purposes only, but please don’t copy my work without my permission. Enjoy 🤎
Warnings: angst, fluff, suggestive/implied smut, bad language, couple reconciling, side chick confrontation, some relationship issues, minors DNI (let me know if I missed anything)
famous!Reader x Jude Bellingham Word count: 8k words
///
‘So, Bestie,’ Winnie starts, ‘what’s the plan? And how are we going to pull this off?’
That’s a good question: how will you break the big news to Jude? It’s been five torturous days since the positive pregnancy test and you’re yet to tell him about it. The timing just hasn’t been right, and the next bit’ll sound silly, but you’ve kept this from him because you don’t want to take the attention from him. 
His first season at Real Madrid has exceeded all your wildest expectations, and you just wanted him to celebrate it all without detracting from it with the baby news. 
Girlfriend of the Year, right?
‘To be honest, Wins, I haven’t thought about it.’ 
You’re standing in the kitchen waiting for the water in the kettle to boil and Winnie’s in the living room, her limbs stretched out on the sectional as she mindlessly browses through one of the coffee table books. 
Your best friend’s in town for work, and earlier today, she actually filmed a couple of scenes with you for the show, and that’s when you told her about the pregnancy. 
Off camera, of course. However, looking back at the moment, you regret not filming it. 
Between filming your scenes, you quietly pulled Winnie to the side and showed her the sonogram you now carry around in your bag, and her reaction was exactly what you expected it to be and more. There was squealing, excited jumping, and there were lots and lots of tears shed between the two of you. 
‘Okay, well, when do you plan to tell him?’
Tonight. You think enough time has passed and yesterday, you went to your first doctor’s appointment and confirmed that you were indeed pregnant, but despite your excitement, you kept the news from Jude because you wanted the announcement to be well thought out—special.
Also, there has been so much distance between you, you’re hoping that the baby news could be the catalyst to bring you two together because you kinda miss being close to him. 
‘I’ll be honest with you, Y/N/N, that doesn’t give us much time to plan it.’ 
Winnie makes a good point, but you’re not looking for perfection, all that matters is that he knows. 
‘Well,’ the kettle boils and you walk over to where it sits on the counter to grab it, ‘it depends on what we decide on.’
You start pouring the boiling liquid into the cups.
‘My only request is that we incorporate the sonogram.’ 
‘Wouldn’t it be cute if we could find a pair of infant football boots?’ 
It’s kinda cheesy—very cheesy, actually—but you like the idea. A lot. 
‘Yeah, that’s a good idea. We’re getting somewhere with this.’
It’s almost hard to believe that you’re standing here, plotting out a way to tell Jude that you’re expecting. 
If someone had come up to you the night you first met him and told you that in two years, you’d be standing in the kitchen of your shared apartment in Madrid, planning a pregnancy reveal, you would’ve called them a liar. 
Excuse your French, but. . . ‘Holy fuck, Wins, I’m pregnant.’ 
It’s like it’s hitting you for the first time. 
Winnie laughs, amused by your sudden realisation. ‘I can’t explain it, right? But it feels like a teen pregnancy.’ 
There’s no need for her to explain it further ‘cause you know exactly what she means. When you first saw the positive pregnancy test—you know, after your initial shock—you first panicked about how your family would react to the news. 
You had to take a moment to stop and remind yourself that even though you’re still so young, you’re more than capable of raising this child. 
With Jude’s assistance, of course.
‘Do you want to record it?’
‘Record what?’ 
You take the steaming mugs from the island and make your way over to the living room, where you place them onto the coffee table. 
‘The moment you tell him. Not for Netflix,’ she clarifies, ‘but you know, home videos or whatever.’ 
Yeah, you’re definitely keeping this one in the family. Maybe if the show gets renewed for a second season. . . but you’re jumping the gun. 
‘I want to, but’ you look around the ostentatiously decorated main living space ‘where can we put the camera? I don’t want him to see it.’ 
‘We’ll figure it out.’ 
Winnie’s composure is just what you need right now. You can always count on her to be calm in stressful situations. 
‘Is your camera charged?’
You’ll have to check. It’s been some time since you last used it. Part of your job is that you’re a part time YouTuber, it’s something you dabble in because you like filming and editing. . . all that jazz, but lately, your channel has taken the backseat. 
Why vlog this period of your life when they can catch it on Netflix when the show comes out? 
‘Come,’ Winnie shifts to make space for you on the couch. 
You take your seat next to her and by the time you settle, she’s already got her phone out, with her Pinterest open. 
‘What’s that for?’
‘Well, something’s got to inspire us.’ 
Duh. It must be the pregnancy fog. 
‘Don’t worry,’ she assures. ‘We’ve got this.’
And got this you do. A half hour and two cold teas later, there’s a plan, but this plan requires you to leave the house. 
Booooo! 
You’re not too keen on the impromptu outing, but there are baby football boots to be bought, and at least you’ll have Winnie there with you. 
‘Well, that was easy.’
You beg to differ, but whatever. 
Winnie locks her phone and sets it on the couch, ‘When’s The Boy coming home?’
You’re not sure when it started, but Winnie now refers to Jude as “The Boy” which you find to be endearing. 
Probably late. He’s out with Toby and Noah, and he mentioned something about his other teammates joining them, but you weren’t really paying attention. 
‘I’m not sure.’ 
And it’s not something you wish to discuss further because the thought fills you with dread. It’s been days since your discovery but given the circumstances, there has been no time to sit down and talk about Coralie. 
The result of that is that whenever he goes out—and he’s been going out plenty to celebrate his victorious season—you can’t help but feel anxious that he might cheat on you again. 
Surely this is no way to live. 
‘But it doesn’t matter, does it?’ you rise off of the couch and start for the bedroom. 
Naturally, Winnie’s trailing after you and you just know that this conversation is far from over. She’s persistent. 
‘It doesn’t, but I think you should ask him.’ 
She makes it sound so simple. And you guess it is simple, he is your boyfriend after all, it’s your privilege to call or text him whenever and wherever. 
‘We don’t want any surprises.’
You don’t, but if he does walk into something he’s not supposed to walk into, that’s all on him. 
‘I don’t think it’s necessary, really.’
Inside the walk-in closet, you start stripping out of your house sweats to change into something appropriate. Once upon a time, you could leave your house in your house clothes without the fear of being pasted on the MailOnline and labelled “dowdy” and “unkempt”.
But that was a long time ago.  
‘Oooh, what’s this?’
Winnie finds herself distracted by the Chloé box that’s sitting on the closet island. 
‘Oh, yeah, that’s a PR box they sent me on Monday,’ you state matter-of-factly. 
She opens it and gasps when she sees what’s inside the large box. 
‘What the. . .’ 
‘It’s crazy, right?’ 
She turns to you in utter disbelief. ‘They gifted these to you?’ 
You hum.
She grunts and confesses, ‘I’m so jealous of you right now.’ 
Twelve full sized perfumes, all gifted to you by the brand. 
You tell her to take a bottle, and of course, she’s over the moon. And it earns you the title of World’s Best Best Friend. 
‘Well, I still think you should text him,’ she states as she tests the different scents. 
And here you thought she had forgotten about that. 
‘Just so we have an idea.’ 
You don’t really want to send the text, but you don’t want to raise any alarms with your friend. Lately, things between you and Jude have been far from perfect, but you’d prefer to keep your relationship problems from the world—even if it’s Winnie and she’s your best friend. 
‘Yeah, alright.’ 
Your phone’s in the living room, so you have to leave the closet to grab it, and when you come back, Winnie’s discovered your new Chanel handbag—a gift from Jude. 
‘He bought this for you?’ 
‘Yeah,’ but you’re not trying to make a big deal of it. 
Jude bought the bag for you about a month ago. At the time, it seemed so random—his urge to buy such an expensive gift on a whim—, but after seeing those text messages, you know it was the guilt that made him do it. 
‘Lucky bitch.’
‘I’ve been telling you to bag yourself a baller,’ you tease as you take your seat on one of the ottomans. 
You: Hey, when are you coming back tonight?
You read over the text to make sure you’re not coming off as desperate. . . a nag. But whatever, the text needs to be sent, and the way he interprets it is up to him. 
He doesn’t immediately respond, but you don’t expect him to. He never does when he’s out. 
You take a final look in the mirror. You look so good, it’s almost hard to believe that the look was put together in ten minutes. And you’d take a picture to post on your story, but there’s no time for that now. 
‘You ready, Wins?’ 
She smiles, ‘Ready.’ 
‘Alright then, let’s go.’ 
///
When he did finally respond to your text, Jude said that he’d try to be home by midnight, which gave you more than enough time to prepare for the reveal. 
For her visit, Winnie will be staying at the apartment with you, but she’s gone out because she’s not pregnant and she’s actually got a life. However, she did help you set everything up for the reveal, which you appreciated because she came with all the good ideas. 
Like she suggested that you do it in your closet as opposed to the kitchen, where you had initially planned to do it, because the lighting and acoustics were better. 
And now it’s a little past eleven o’clock and you’re rewatching an old episode of your favourite series. Earlier in the night—after Winnie left—you filmed a night time routine vlog for your TikTok, which you should be working on editing, but can’t be bothered about.
Waiting for Jude to come home has reduced you to a ball of anxiety, and despite your eyelids getting heavier and heavier with each passing minute, you simply can’t make yourself fall asleep. However, one thing’s certain, no pregnancy reveal will be done tonight. 
Damn him, and damn your feelings for him.
You can’t believe he’s once again ditched you for his friends this week. It’s disrespectful at this point, but the worst part? 
You keep allowing him to get away with it. 
But what can you do, leave him? As if that’s an option for you. The love you feel for him runs so deep, you can’t bring yourself to imagine a life without him in it, especially with the baby coming. So apologies to all the feminists of the world, but your love for this man surpasses all reasoning. 
Your phone dings with a notification and you quickly grab it, hoping to find a text from him—you’ll take an incoherent drunken text at this point, anything—but instead it’s Winnie asking if he’s home yet. 
Fuck. 
You: Not yet, but soon :) 
You hope. 
She’ll never confront you about it, but you think that Winnie suspects that things aren’t good between you and Jude. The lack of calls and texts throughout the day was a dead giveaway. The two of you can’t get enough of each other, and even when you’re apart, you’re constantly updating each other one way or another so the silence was deafening.
But whatever, right? 
People across the world experience relationship problems every day. You’re not the first couple to experience this, and you’re certainly not the last. You just wish that your relationship problems weren’t because he stepped out on you. 
‘Babe?’ 
And now your mind’s playing tricks on you, because you swear you can hear him–
‘Y/N?’
Oh shit, he’s home!
You quickly reach for your phone to check the time: 11:26.
Fuck! 
In the last text you sent him almost an hour ago now, you gave him strict instructions to text you before he left the club. 
Guess he didn’t catch that text. 
‘Baby?’ he calls for you again, but his voice sounds distant, so you figure you have enough time to do what it is that you have to do.  
But you’ve got to move fast, so you clamber off of the bed, and scurry to your closet. You head straight to the camera, which you’ve carefully propped on your Louis Vuitton jewellery box, and switch it on to start recording. 
This probably isn’t the best of angles, but so long as it captures his reaction, hopefully with his face in the frame. 
‘Baaaaybeeee?’ 
His voice sounds closer now. 
‘In the closet, babe,’ you finally call back, then internally brace yourself for what’s to follow. 
With Jude, the plan was always to get married and have children, but the when was never discussed in detail. 
‘Why are you hiding in here?’ 
Some of that anxiety leaves your body at the sight of him. He’s beaming at you, so visibly happy to see you. 
‘Hiya.’
This man has seen you in all kinds of vulnerable situations, why are you so shy all of a sudden? 
As he closes the distance between you, you notice that his eyes are kinda red and glossy, the only sign of his intoxication. When he reaches you, his smile widens—if that’s even possible—and he leans forward to connect your foreheads. 
‘Hi, gorgeous.’ 
He smells of mint with the faint scent of alcohol, and a smell you can only describe as Jude on a night out. 
With your eyes shut, you deeply inhale the comforting scent, happy to have him back home. 
‘Hey, why are you hiding in here?’ he asks again, his words running into each other, the second sign. 
‘Uh, ‘cause.’
You weren’t anticipating that question, and you don’t know how to answer it. 
‘“‘Cause?”’ he chuckles. 
You hum.
‘Come here,’ he envelops you in his large and strong arms, practically suffocating you but you can’t bring yourself to tell him to release you because you’ve missed his affection and the intimacy.
You fear you’re starting to sound like a broken record. 
‘How was it?’
‘How was what?’
‘The club?’
‘Fine.’ 
And that’s all he’s willing to offer.
‘I thought you said Winnie was staying over?’ 
She is, she’s just gone to a party with the new guy she’s seeing. 
‘And you didn’t join her?’ 
‘No.’ 
You give him a half-baked explanation for why you didn’t, but all you’re thinking is how this isn’t going the way you hoped for it to go. This isn’t what the other significant others did in the videos you watched earlier.
But how do you save it?
‘Why are you asking about her?’
‘Just curious, I guess.’ 
‘Alright then,’ you fist his jacket in your hand. ‘It’s good to have you back home.’
He likes that, you know that because his heart rate picks up. Things are still a bit awkward between you, but that’s to be expected since you haven’t been talking much. 
With your arms around his neck, you press onto your toes and crane your neck to peck him on the lips. ‘And actually, babe, there’s something I want to show you.’
Jude tenses up at that, but it’s so subtle, if you weren’t in his arms, you would’ve missed it. 
‘You do?’ 
And like magic, he’s sobered up. Only a bit though. 
‘Don’t worry,’ you assure him, amused. ‘It’s nothing bad.’ 
Your assurance does nothing to ease his wound up body. 
‘Jude, relax. . . please.’ 
Still tense. Whatever, you won’t dwell on his anxiety. 
With a final peck to his lips, you step away from him and direct his attention to the island, where the football booties you went out to buy earlier are placed next to a toddler Real Madrid jersey, a positive pregnancy test—you took another one a couple of hours ago—and the sonogram.
‘Surprise,’ you say softly. 
You want to sound excited, but it just comes out dejected.
You watch as he takes it in, your heart hammering against your chest. Unfortunately for you, you only have a view of his side profile but even from this angle, you can see that his usually expressive face is perfectly still. You can’t read him, and it feels like an eternity before he turns to face you.
‘Is this for real?’ 
You nod, the lump that has found a home in your throat making it hard to speak. Your vision’s also blurred, courtesy of the tears that have pooled in your eyes. 
‘It is?’
The first tear falls. 
‘Oh, baby.’ 
Jude lifts you into his arms and squeezes all the air from your lungs. 
Man, he’s so strong. 
Then he sort of holds you like that for a long time, and the next thing you know, your neck is damp. 
‘Babe, are you. . are you crying?’ 
He denies it, but you can feel the damp spot grow with each passing second you’re in his arms. Oh goodness, he is. 
‘I think you are.’ 
‘Shut up,’ he mutters, his voice muffled. 
You giggle when he tickles you. 
His reaction’s quite the relief and it feels like a ginormous load has been lifted off your shoulders. In terms of his reaction, you weren’t sure what to expect, but this is the best reaction possible, and as he holds you, all the lingering resentment about his past transgressions are forgotten.
Eventually, he sets you down to reveal his red rimmed eyes and similarly hued nose. 
‘How far along are you?’ 
Seven weeks and three days today, according to your doctor. When Dr Hernandez told you, you couldn’t believe you were so far along and didn’t notice. 
‘That’s what, almost two months?’ 
In defence of you though, between your work and Jude’s chaotic football schedule, you’ve been out of touch with your body. 
‘Did you know?’
‘I suspected it.’ You tell him about the morning after that night when you noticed that your period was late.  ‘I wanted to tell you, but I wanted to take the test first.’
‘And why didn’t you tell me after?’ 
‘I wanted the doctor to confirm it.’ 
You’ve grown so tired of standing, so you sit on the carpeted floor of the closet, and Jude joins you, pushing the ottoman to one side so that he can lean against the island. 
‘I called Dr Morena who referred me to Dr Hernandez.’
He scowls, ‘Who’s that?’ 
‘My obstetrician.’
The scowl deepens.
You sigh, ‘The doctor who’ll care for me during the pregnancy.’
‘Oh.’ With his legs spread and stretched out before him, he pulls you into him and sets you between them. ‘And you said that Dr Morena referred you to this. . .’
‘Obstetrician.’
‘Yeah, that.’
You hum in agreement as you rest your back against his torso. 
Dr Morena is your family GP.  
There’s a silent beat then he asks, ‘So he knew before me?’
‘Winnie too,’ you turn your head so that you’re partially facing him. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Winnie knew before me?’ 
The offence is evident in his voice.
‘I had to tell her,’ you defend, but this isn’t where you want to steer the conversation. ‘She helped me set this all up.’
He grunts.
‘Are you mad at me?’ 
‘Kinda.’ 
Well, now you feel bad. 
‘I’m sorry,’ you sit up and turn to face him, maintaining eye contact as you explain, ‘Had I known it would’ve offended you, I wouldn’t have done it.’
But she was so integral in all of this, a part of you’s glad you did. . . 
‘Oh, come on, Jude.’
He’s pouting, your big baby.
‘Cheer up, will you?’ you straddle him, cupping his face to gently stroke his cheek with your thumb. ‘I’m really sorry.’
It’s about another minute of silence and avoided eye contact, and you’re about to give up and on the verge of tears when: 
‘Babe, I’m only messing with you.’ 
A quiet beat, then there’s relief, followed by loud laughter. 
‘That wasn’t funny,’ you grouse, slapping him lightly on his chest. ‘I almost cried, you know.’
‘Come here,’ he pulls you into him. 
The traces of alcohol still linger in his speech, but he’s significantly sobered up since he got home ten minutes ago. 
‘I can’t believe you’re pregnant.’ 
And you can’t remember the last time Jude was this excited about something outside of football. His reaction almost makes you wish you had waited to share the news with him on his birthday, but that wouldn’t have worked because he’ll be in Germany then with the national team for the Euros. 
‘What are you thinking?’ 
‘How the pill doesn’t work a hundred percent,’ you pull away. 
But then again, with all the jet setting you’ve been doing, you probably weren’t taking it at the same time every day. 
With a flash of his signature smile, he concurs. 
‘My knees are starting to hurt,’ you announce as you move off of his lap and back to your previous spot between his legs. 
Jude places a hand over your stomach, and with your hands over his larger ones, you move them lower to the pelvic area.
‘There.’ 
He chuckles. ‘You know, I always dreamed of being a young dad.’
You didn’t know this about him.
‘Not at twenty-one,’ he continues, ‘but you know, in my twenties.’ 
It’s comforting to know that this baby fits into his life plan. 
‘How about you?’
‘I don’t know,’ you admit after a moment of consideration.
You’re still wrapping your head around the turn your life’s taken. The WAG thing kinda blindsided you, the fame too. The craziest part of this all is that you’ve made a career of it, built an entire brand. 
‘But I’m not mad at this plot twist.’ 
‘Our kid’s a plot twist?’ he chuckles. 
You nod. ‘Clearly we weren’t paying attention in sex education.’ 
He kisses the top of your head. 
‘Dr Hernandez said that the baby’s about the size of a blueberry,’ you tell him.
It’s such a random fact, but you feel compelled to share it with him. 
‘That’s really tiny.’
‘Right?’ 
Jude keeps rubbing over the area, and you have an inkling he’ll make a habit of this. 
Some minutes pass, and then you remember that the camera’s still going, so you excuse yourself from Jude. 
‘Where’re you going?’ 
His grip is firm around your waist. 
‘I’m going to get the camera.’
He looks confused, but he releases you. On bended knees, you shuffle over to the other end of the island to quickly grab it, but you don’t stop the recording. When you get back to Jude, you find him in a daze, silently staring at the sonogram in his hand. 
‘She’s so tiny,’ he comments when you sit at your previous spot, facing him. 
‘She?’ 
Talk about wanting to be a girl dad.
‘You think the baby’s a girl?’ 
He looks up to find a camera in his face. ‘What, you think it’s a boy?’
You shrug, you haven’t actually given it much thought. ‘Well, do you think you can handle a mini me?’
He makes a face. 
‘Ah, take it back,’ you giggle. 
He takes the camera and turns the lens to you. ‘Well, now I’m asking you. Y/N, do you think Baby Bellingham’s a girl or a boy?’ 
You pause to think about it. A mini you or a mini Jude, how difficult. ‘Well, I’m going the opposite, I think Baby Bellinghamʼs a boy.’
You snuggle into him, ear pressed against his chest, camera still in your face, but you’re both in the frame. One fact people don’t know about your boyfriend is that he’s a master vlogger, and he’s actually recorded many segments for your vlogs that will never see the light of day because when it comes to Jude, you’re a shameless gatekeeper. 
‘I want to shower before bed,’ he proclaims once the recording has stopped. ‘Join me?’ 
You’ve already taken your shower, but you figure a second one wouldn’t hurt. Jude takes your hand and leads you out of the closet and into the bathroom, where you strip out of your clothes. 
‘Is it my imagination, or are your boobs getting bigger?’
Huh? 
You look down at your exposed breasts, ‘Are you joking?’
‘No, I’m not,’ with a hand on each shoulder, he turns you towards the mirror. ‘Look.’ 
You’re looking at them, but they still look the same to you, but he’s adamant. Then, in a move you deem perverted—in a good way, of course—, he cups them in his hands. 
‘What are you doing?’ At this point, you can’t contain your laughter. 
‘How are you not seeing this?’ 
He must’ve drank more than you realise, because what the fuck is this? 
‘Are you high?’ 
His face twists with disapproval, ‘No, why?’ 
‘The boobs,’ you turn to him, ‘what’s with the sudden fascination with them?’
‘I like your boobs, you know this.’ 
You do. And you like his butt. 
‘Come,’ you wrap your hand around his wrist and pull him into the shower. ‘I think you’re tired.’
And horny. 
You turn the faucet to run the water. 
As you’d imagine, not much showering is done. 
‘Careful not to wet your hair,’ you warn him, but it’s too late.
‘I don’t care,’ he says flippantly as he takes your face between his hands and leans over to kiss you. 
This is not what you came here to do. 
You’re both covered in suds. 
‘Jude, I need to rinse my body.’
‘Later,’ he mutters against your lips. 
‘Jude!’ you squeal. 
He’s such a Silly Billy when he wants to be.
You gasp into his passionate kiss when you suddenly feel the cold shower wall against your back. In a swift and slick movement, Jude trails kisses across your left shoulder and you tilt your head to one side to give him better access to your neck.
A soft moan escapes your parted lips as he sucks on the sensitive skin. 
‘Jude. . .’
You want to tell him to stop, but the hand on his naked lower back pulls him into to you. 
He hums into the kiss as his hand moves up your body to cup your boob, ‘Tonight, you’ve made me the happiest man alive.’ 
His vulnerability catches you off guard, how can you not give into him. . .
///
For breakfast this morning, you’re making honey butter toast using a recipe you found on the internet. It’s your first time making it and you’re not entirely sure what you’re doing here, but Jude saw it on Pinterest the other week and begged you to make it, so that’s what he’ll have for breakfast. 
It’s a simple enough recipe, but knowing you and your iffy cooking skills, this could either be a major success or an epic fail—nothing in the middle. If it does fail though, you’ve got the regular bacon and egg fry-up on standby. 
But only positive thoughts in this kitchen. 
You’ve got your favourite morning playlist going softly in the background, and today’s what you consider the perfect Saturday morning. The sun is fully out, and the expansive windows of the apartment allow for the natural light to pour into the space and warms it. 
You put the toast into the oven and set the timer. 
At the end of the summer, your lease for this apartment will be up, but the likelihood of you extending it has significantly shrunk with the latest development in your life. The song goes, “First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Y/N with a baby carriage,” but you’ve skipped parts, so some things need to be shifted around. 
That means that the house hunting that you’ve been putting off needs to start. . . now, really. 
This is where Coralie comes in handy, but you’re not talking to her. She actually reached out to you Sunday morning to apologise for your awkward encounter at the restaurant that night. Her text read: 
Coralie: Last night, I overstepped and I’m really sorry and embarrassed by my actions. Please forgive me. 
You’re yet to respond to the text, but you don’t plan to anytime soon because you don’t accept her stupid apology. As far as you’re concerned, she’s an insignificant homewrecker. She is two-faced and vindictive and incredibly cruel for subjecting you to such humiliation. 
She laughed with you, acted like a friend when she was fucking your man behind your back for six months. 
‘Bitch,’ you mumble as you load the dishes into the wash.
But she’s not worth the time, emotions, nor the energy. So with a deep breath, you bop thoughts of her out of your mind, and move on with your day. 
Easy. 
A half hour later, breakfast is ready to be served. You’ve gone all out with this meal, and it would be an absolute shame to not take a picture to post onto your IG story. Very quickly, you snap a picture to post later, and take the food to your sleeping boyfriend before the ice-cream starts to melt. 
He’s still fast asleep, but he’s since shifted sleeping positions, and he’s hugging your pillow. 
How cute? 
When he wakes up, you expect him to be hungover and grouchy from all his boozing, and you just know he’ll play it up for attention. If there’s one thing you know about your boyfriend it’s that he dies for attention, and he simply cannot resist being babied. 
‘Wakey wakey sleepyhead.’ 
You place the heavy tray onto the bedside table, on the other side of it to avoid it getting bumped by mistake, and attempt to wake him again. 
Still, nothing. 
‘Jude,’ you mount him, peppering a million tiny kisses against the side of his pretty face. Even in his slumber, he looks perfect. ‘Come on, you got your eight hours, it’s time to wake up.’ 
He grunts, then sends you away. 
‘But I got food,’ you object with feigned sadness. 
But he doesnʼt budge. 
Alright, sweet coaxing out the window. ‘Babe, I made honey butter toast and the ice-cream’s rapidly melting. Wake up.’ 
There’s another silent beat and then, ‘What the hell is that?’ 
Of course he doesn’t remember what it is.
‘Honey butter toast,’ you repeat, as if it’ll somehow miraculously make him know what it is. ‘That bread you saw on Pinterest and begged me to make.’
He’s still clueless, but at least you’ve got his attention. Finally, with a long groan, he sits up, moving cautiously to not send you tumbling to the floor. 
‘What time is it?’
‘Ten.’ 
He cusses softly as he rubs his face. ‘I’m supposed to meet with my parents at eleven.’
You didn’t know that. 
But it’s clearly nothing pressing because he doesn’t seem fazed by the fact that he’s running late. He yawns, rubs his eyes and face some more, then turns to you—sitting comfortably on his lap—and smiles. ‘Good morning.’ 
You mirror his expression. ‘Morning. You hungry?’
‘Starving. What’s for breakfast?’
‘Here,’ you slide off his lap to take the tray and hand it to him. ‘It’s my first time making it, so be nice.’
He assesses the tray of food you’ve placed before him, then looks back up at you. ‘Nine out of ten for the presentation.’
Your brows furrow, ‘Why not ten?’ 
‘Some of the ice-cream has melted and it looks a bit sloppy.’ 
‘Yeah, and who’s fault is that?’ 
He lets out a hearty laugh, but you’re not amused by this judge. 
You climb back onto the bed, your eyes fixed on Jude as he puts the first forkful of the honey butter toast, with a little bit of the vanilla ice-cream and salted caramel sauce, into his mouth.
He chews, then he moans, his eyes widen, more chewing, and then finally, he swallows. 
This is a good reaction. 
‘You like it?’ 
‘I love it,’ he cuts another piece of the toast. ‘Ten out of ten for the taste. Did you make the ice-cream and caramel sauce yourself?’
‘Alright, Paul Hollywood.’ You grab the extra fork you had on the tray and dig in—curious about the taste—and are met with protests from Jude. ‘I just want a little taste.’ 
‘Get your own.’ 
Your bottom lip juts out, it’s your turn to pout. ‘Yeah, but I’m pregnant.’ 
With a heavy sigh, he proclaims, ‘And so it starts.’
You can’t help but laugh at his solemn tone. 
The two of you remain in bed, even after he’s finished having his breakfast, because his outing with his parents has now been postponed to two o’clock. If it were any other day, you’d join them, but you promised to accompany Winnie to the art gallery and you don’t think you can get out of it. 
Turning into your side, Jude questions, ‘Why does she have to go to the art gallery?’ 
Because she’s in her art girl era, inspired by her latest fling, an up-and-coming visual artist from Portugal. His name’s Baltasar, and they met at Coachella a couple months back, and lately, he’s all she ever talks about. You think she’s in love. 
‘A visual artist?’ 
‘Yep.’ 
‘So he’s broke?’ 
‘Hey, don’t be mean,’ you chide. 
He doesn’t care though, he thinks it’s funny. 
‘You’re such an asshole, d’you know that?’ 
‘Babe, I’m just kidding.’ 
Yeah, right. 
‘Well, she really likes him so if she mentions it to you, keep the bad jokes to yourself.’ 
‘Noted,’ his mouth connects with your cheek.
The conversation smoothly transitions from Winnie’s new boyfriend to Jobe, who’s relentlessly trying to convince his older brother to take a short trip to Ibiza before he has to report for international duty. You think it’s a great idea, a final hoorah before it gets serious again.
‘Will you come with?’
‘Ibiza sober? Count me out.’
‘I’ll drink for the both of us.’ 
‘Uh, definitely not,’ your fingers glide up and down his naked back. ‘And I think Jobe wants this to be a boy’s trip. No girlfriends.’
‘But you’re not my girlfriend.’ 
Huh? ‘I’m not?’ 
‘You recently got upgraded to baby mum.’ 
He’s an idiot. Who even laughs at their own jokes this much? Either way, you’re not going to Ibiza with them. It’s another half hour of mindless chatter before you ask,
‘What time is it?’ 
‘Early.’ 
‘Jude, I’m being serious,’ you reach blindly for your phone and find it on the other end of the bed. ‘I need to start getting ready.’ 
‘Can’t you postpone it for another day?’
‘Winnie leaves tomorrow night.’ 
But he’s not budging, and so you have to use all of your might to shove him off of you. 
Your strength leaves him shook. ‘Where’d that come from?’ 
‘It’s all those training sessions you’re paying for.’
He swells with pride—men. 
‘Will you join me?’
Jude perks up. 
‘But we’re only showering, nothing else.’ 
And he’s dejected. 
‘I’ll just sit on the side and watch.’ 
That’s fine by you. 
He follows you into the bathroom, and you think you hear him mumble something about you making it worth his while. 
///
What your gallery date conveniently forgot to mention was that Baltasar would be joining your gallery excursion. Had you known he’d be here, you would’ve asked Jude to tag along so it could be a double date or something.  
Jude: How’s it going? 🖼️
You’re miserable here, and you’re pretty sure you’re third wheeling. And look, you want to be supportive of your best friend, right? But it’s so hard to be when the guy she’s seeing’s the textbook definition of an asshole. 
You’re one pretentious comment away from faking morning sickness to get out of this. 
You: I’m having the worst time
You: The art is great, but he’s so smug 🙄
And he’s rude, so rude, and he’s determined to talk over you. 
Jude: The artist? 🎨🧑‍🎨
You: Yeah, I don’t think he likes me :/ 
And you’d actually be doing him a favour by leaving, you’d be doing you both the favour because at this point, you feel like you’re intruding and you’re starting to feel awkward. 
Jude: Well fuck him 
His text makes you chortle. 
At least Winnie’s making an effort to include you. Every now and again, she’ll ask for your opinion on certain pieces, but in the end, you just can’t do it. 
You can’t be here anymore. 
‘Hey,’ you lightly tap Winnie’s shoulder.
She turns to regard you, ‘Hey, what’s up?’
‘Can I talk to you for a second?’ 
‘Sure.’
She excuses herself from Baltasar, who’s really displeased with your intrusion, and you find a quiet corner. 
‘Is everything okay?’
‘Yeah, everything’s fine, the art’s great, but I’m not feeling too hot.’
‘Oh no,’ her brows knit in concern, ‘is it morning sickness?’ 
She’s buying it, good. 
‘I think I’m going to head home, you know, to lie down for a couple hours.’ 
‘Yeah, alright,’ she takes your hand in hers and lightly squeezes it. 
‘But how will you get back to the apartment?’ 
You are her ride home after all. 
‘I was planning on spending the rest of the afternoon with Baltasar,’ she looks over her shoulder at him and when she looks back at you, she’s blushing, ‘but what about you? Are you fine to drive in your condition?’ 
‘It’s just a little nausea, I promise I’ll be fine.’ 
It takes a minute to convince her, but you don’t relent, and in the end, you manage to convince her. 
‘Now go,’ you nudge her towards her waiting love interest. ‘Have fun with your boyfriend–’
‘Uh, he’s not my boyfriend,’ she quickly interjects, her voice dropping to a scolding whisper. 
You smile knowingly, sure he isn’t. 
‘What makes you say he’s my boyfriend? Did he say something to you?’
‘No, but I saw the way you were looking at him,’ you shrug, ‘the way he was looking at you.’ 
Winnie’s uncharacteristically shy all of a sudden. 
‘I’ve clearly misread the situation,’ you start backing away from her. ‘But we’ll talk more about it later, okay?’
‘Promise to text me when you get home.’ 
‘I pinky promise to call you when I get home,’ you blow her a kiss. 
You wave goodbye to Baltsar, who seems pleased to see you go, and then you’re out of there. 
It’s a short drive home from the gallery, and you’re glad to be back home, but you wish Jude was here with you.
You: I miss you.
As soon as the message’s sent, you regret sending it. But you can always blame pregnancy for making you so clingy. 
You fall back onto the bed with a long exhale. What to do with your time? You could watch a movie or you could go the self-care route. 
The other day, a skincare brand sent you a few collagen face masks you’ve been dying to try. It’s one of those that melts into your skin. And since you’re on that path, you can also soak in the tub ‘cause you haven’t done that in a while. And if you’re really up to it, maybe you can do your nails. 
But first: 
You: Got home safe. Have fun with your friend ;) can’t wait to hear about it later x
Jude misses you too. He’s also still with his parents but should be home before dinner.  
You: Did you tell them about… 🫄
Jude: No. I thought we’d do it together.
That’s a good plan. 
You: Great idea. I’ll see you later, I love you x
Jude: I love you more 😘
Dinner time’s a while away, so you’ve got plenty of time to have your self-care afternoon. 
The tub is halfway full, the bubbles foaming, the steam and aroma engulfing the space when your phone notifies you that someone’s at the door. 
Your body’s sheathed by a robe, but you still feel indecent as you make your way to the door. 
The doorbell goes off a second time just before you reach the door, and when you open it, the last person you expect to find standing on the other side of it is Coralie. 
Yes, Coralie’s at your door and she looks like. . . Well, she looks like shit. 
‘Y/N,’ she forces her lips into a tight smile. ‘Hi.’ 
The shock has you frozen for a moment, but you’re quick to recover. ‘Jude’s not home.’ 
You’re curt because you want her out of your sight and you’ve left the water running in the bathroom. 
‘I know he isn’t.’
She does?
‘I’m not here to see Jude, I’m actually here to see you.’
Of course she’s here to see you. 
‘Why?’
‘‘Cause there’s so much we need to talk about, woman to woman.’ 
“Woman to woman”, what a joke? And it takes everything in you to stop your eyes from rolling. What the fuck does that even mean?
‘Can’t we schedule this for another time? I’m kinda in a rush.’
‘It won’t take long, I promise.’ 
Hell, she can’t take a hint, can she?
‘Can I come in?’
‘We can’t talk about whatever it is here?’ you tighten your grip around the door handle to stop your hand from shaking. ‘I mean, you said it yourself, it won’t take long.’
‘Yeah, but it’s weird doing it at the door, so can I come in?’
‘You’re in no position to call the shots.’ 
‘Please,’ she sounds desperate. ‘I just need ten minutes of your time, then I promise I’ll go.’ 
The more you look at her, the worse she looks. Honestly, she looks like she’s been to hell and back, and if you didn’t hate her so much, you’d feel sympathy. 
‘Ten minutes, then you have to leave.’ 
‘That’s all I ask, thank you.’
And so despite your better judgement, you step to one side to allow her into the apartment. As you shut the door, you offer her a drink.
‘I’ll have a water, thank you.’
‘We’ve got water in the fridge.’ You walk towards your bedroom to shut off the running water, ‘I’ll be with you in a moment.’ 
On the short trek, you dig your phone from your robe pocket. 
You: Coralie’s here she says she wants to talk but i’m uneasy
You shut the faucet. You quickly change out of your robe into the first clothing items you stumble upon, which are the sweats Jude was wearing earlier. They’re loosely fitting, but they’re comforting because they smell like him.
Coralie’s in the living room, bottle of water in hand, and she’s focused on something out the window. 
‘Sorry I took so long.’
Your sudden intrusion snaps her out of her reverie, ‘It’s fine.’ 
Her eyes are fixed on you as you move around the space to take your seat on the sectional, feet tucked beneath your bum. 
This is so awkward. 
‘So,’ you start, breaking the ice, ‘you said you wanted to talk?’
You heard Jude out, so it’s only fair that you hear Coralie’s side of the story. 
‘Right,’ she clears her throat. ‘I assume you know about our. . .’
‘Affair?’
She winces at your choice of words. 
‘Yeah, I do.’
‘And he told you everything?’ 
‘That you got drunk last December and hooked up? That you’ve been hooking up behind my back for the last six months?’
She sits perfectly still, but her trembling lower lip betrays her. 
‘That you were sending inappropriate texts, pictures, and videos. . .’ you continue, pleased to see her squirm in her seat. ‘Am I missing anything else?’ 
It’s only been, what? Five days since you last saw her, but in the short time span, she’s aged a decade. Coralie’s never disclosed her age, but you’ve always placed her in her late-twenties, maybe early-thirties, but today she looks well into her forties.
‘How did you find out?’
‘I saw the drunk text you sent him, what did it say again?’ you pause for dramatic effect. ‘Right, “I’m drunk and I miss you. Call me.”’ 
She’s fidgeting with the bottle in her hand, her head bowing in shame. ‘Y/N, I’m really sorry.’
‘What are you apologising for?’
‘All of it.’ She looks up at you, ‘I’m sorry that you found out the way you did.’ 
You hear her, but you’re not ready to accept her apology. Especially because she’s cutting into your self-care time with this crap. 
‘Who made the first move?’ 
‘Jude did.’
Your heart aches at the revelation, it’s like someone has driven a sharp knife into it. 
‘He was upset at you, he didn’t say why but he was really cut up about a fight you had,’ she proceeds. ‘And if it wasn’t me, it would’ve been someone else.’
You think you might throw up. 
‘But he was drunk, we both were, and. . .’ her voice trails. 
An uncomfortable silence descends upon the room because really, what else is there to say? 
‘Do you love him?’ 
‘Does it matter?’
It doesn’t matter, but you want to know. Let’s say it’s curiosity.
‘He’s hard not to love.’
That’s true.
‘But am I in love with him? No.’ 
Some of the tension in your shoulders eases. 
‘And he doesn’t love me either,’ and she almost sounds sad when she says that. ‘It was only ever sex between us, nothing more.’
But the texts. . . what did they mean? 
‘Nothing,’ she insists. ‘Call it harmless flirtation.’
‘Harmless?’
She flushes, ‘You know what I mean.’ 
So you now know that he was mad at you, they were both drunk, they fucked and you think Coralie regrets it, but you’re not sure. 
‘Who pursued it?’ 
‘What?’ 
‘Your. . . thing, the affair,’ it irks you to say it. 
‘Oh, Y/N, I don’t think you–’ 
‘Was it Jude?’ 
‘He loves you.’
‘I know he loves me.’ 
Coralie’s quiet which furthers your frustration at her. 
‘Did he pursue the affair?’
‘Why does it matter? It doesn’t change anything because in the end, he chose you.’ It’s like it pains her to say it. ‘He’ll always choose you.’
You nod. 
After another long and awkward silence, she professes, ‘You know, I felt awful deceiving you because you really are such a good person.’
‘Don’t start with that crap.’ 
‘No, I mean it. You’re a good person, and we were friends–’
‘We were never friends,’ you interrupt. ‘You were never my friend.’ 
You tolerated her, there’s a difference. 
‘I know you’re upset with me, and trust me, I get it, but come on,’ she persists. ‘We were friendly with each other.’ 
‘You sleep with all your friends’ boyfriends?’ 
That shuts her up. 
‘Look, Coralie, I appreciate the apology,’ you pull your phone from the sweatpants pocket to check the time and discover eight missed calls from Jude. ‘But you said you’d be here for ten minutes, and you’ve exceeded that time.’ 
‘I know, and I’m really sorry about that, but there’s one last thing I want to tell you.’ 
Your stomach twists with dread—she better not tell you that she’s pregnant. The cheating you can move past, but a child you can’t recover from. 
‘You’re pregnant?’ 
‘What?’ She looks offended that you’d even ask her that question. ‘No, I’m not pregnant.’
You sigh in relief. 
She’s not pregnant, but she did lose her job. She received the call this morning to let her know that her services were no longer required by the club. She’s certain Jude had something to do with it, so she’s here to plead with you to talk sense into him. 
‘And I meant what I said, I really am sorry for the inconvenience that I’ve caused in your life, but Y/N, I really need this job,’ she concludes. 
‘How are you so sure he had something to do with it?’ 
She shoots you an incredulous look as if to say, ‘Really?’ 
‘And if he did have something to do with it, what makes you think he’d listen to anything I have to say?’ 
‘Because you told him to end our arrangement and he did.’
‘But you said it yourself, you mean nothing to him.’ 
She flinches again. 
‘I mean, I can try to talk to him, but I can’t promise you anything.’ 
‘Thank you,’ she smiles. ‘That’s all I ask.’ 
‘Well, like I said, I have somewhere to be so–’
You don’t get to finish the sentence, ‘cause you’re cut off by a panicked Jude who storms into the apartment, followed by an equally panicked Mark. 
‘Babe?’ 
Thank the heavens he’s here.
///
You wake up in the middle of the night to find Jude’s side of the bed empty. At first you think he’s in the bathroom, but when five minutes pass and he’s not back, the panic sets in. You grab your phone off of the bedside table to check the time: 2:38. 
Where the hell is he?
You sit up and search the dark room for traces of him, but there’s nothing—only his phone on the bedside table.
It’s been hours since your confrontation with Coralie, but you’re yet to process it all. You’re still in shock at the fact that she rocked up at your door the way she did, but you’d be lying if you said the conversation wasn’t cathartic. 
‘Jude?’ 
You push the covers away and climb off of the bed. After you locate your house shoes, you set out to find him. 
His phone is here, so he shouldn’t be far. 
‘Jude?’ 
As you make your trek down the short passage, you hear soft chatter coming from the TV room. When you turn the corner, you find Jude sitting on the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him, feet resting on the coffee table. 
A smile takes over your face at the sight of him. 
‘Hey, you,’ he greets you as you crawl into his lap. 
‘Hi,’ you tuck your face in the crook of his neck and inhale his scent. ‘What are you watching?’ 
‘Pulp Fiction.’
Of course he is. 
‘Why’re you up?’ 
You trace patterns on his t-shirt clad chest. ‘I woke up and you weren’t in bed. I panicked.’
He tightens his arms around you, ‘Why?’
‘I don’t know,’ you sit up. ‘This pregnancy has me acting weird.’ 
‘Yeah, blame it on the pregnancy,’ he teases. 
‘Shut up,’ you shift to straddle him. ‘Why are you sitting here alone?’
His hands settle on your waist, ‘I didn’t want to wake you.’
There’s still so much to discuss in terms of Coralie and her claims, but tonight just isn’t the time for that.
‘Do you think we’ll ever be okay again?’ 
‘Yeah,’ he takes your mouth into a deep kiss. 
‘Come to bed with me,’ you whisper against his lips, moaning when he slips a hand between you, teasing his fingers through your slick folds. 
‘I don’t think we’ll make it to bed.’ 
///
Tagged:
@luv4bellingham
77 notes · View notes
miratastic · 2 days
Note
Feyd spanking-
yes. oh my god yes. went a little bit overboard with this one, hope u enjoy !
feyd has rules. rules that he expects you to follow. he needs you to listen, to be obedient and good. he likes it when you’re soft, and floaty and treat him like he’s the only thing you need (which let’s be honest, he is). he likes having control over you. likes to tell you what you can wear, who you can talk to, what you can and can’t do around geidi prime. if you obey him, he treats you. spoils you with gifts exported from other planets, takes you to his favourite childhood hideouts, lets you cum as many times as you want. if you’re really good he uses his mouth on you and makes you cum so hard you black out.
feyd doesn’t give second chances. the second you start acting up, say your outfit is more low cut than usual, or you’re being bratty and saying no to him, he will waste no time. discipline is very important to feyd. he would drag you by the wrist, ignoring your shocked outburst at his sudden aggression, to his private chambers. you think you’re so smart by telling him that he’s overreacting, and that you’re not doing anything wrong. feyd would snarl in response, veins in his forehead ticking. he would be fuming, you’d be able to hear his teeth gritting together as he throws you over his lap. this entire time he hasn’t said an entire word and you’re starting to get worried. you realise that maybe trying to rile him up was a bad idea. “feyd,” you’d say uncertainly, wriggling in his strong hold. “let me go.”
the sharp sound of fabric tearing is his response. he’s ripped a gaping hole in your clothes, giving him full access to your ass and upper thighs.
“here i thought you were good. here i thought i had taught you manners.” his voice is gravelly, fury barely contained as he strokes your skin.
“feyd-feyd m’sorry okay? i won’t do it again, i promise!” he’d reduced you down to a whimpering, pathetic, mess and he hadn’t even started yet. “please let me go.”
feyd laughs at you. it’s menacing and scary and you tremble where you lay. “it’s too late for you. if you were my pretty pet we wouldn’t be here right now. if you were the good pet i know, you’d be cumming on my cock tonight. but you aren’t good are you? no, good pets fucking listen to their owners. you deserve this.”
the first spank against your ass hurts. he wasn’t starting off soft or giving you a chance to get used to it. feyd puts all his power into it, years of warrior training being obvious with how the pain radiates through you. you cry out, tears immediately running down your face. “f-feyd!”
“count.”
you whimper out a quiet ‘one,’ and he hums, “maybe there’s hope for you yet.”
he spanks you again, this time it hits the thin skin just under your left cheek, and you jerk up his lap from the impact. feyd doesn’t offer comfort through his punishment; doesn’t soothe the reddened skin with his large hands. he doesn’t even wait long enough for you to catch up before he’s doing it again.
feyd makes you count all of them. he keeps going until he’s satisfied he’s erased the badness from you. if you lose count or take to long to answer, he starts again from the top. he keeps going until you’re just a sniffling, drooly wreck with a bruised and battered ass.
when he’s done he would pick you up and seat you over his hardened cock, not caring if it hurts you. your head would find itself burrowing into his chest, wet faced and snotty nosed. “m’sorry, m’really really sorry. m’gonna be good for you, m’gonna be a good pet for you, won’t make you mad ‘nymore. won’t be a brat, i’ll listen and be good.”
feyd’s palm would come up and rub your head, and you’d start crying again from how good it felt to finally have comforting touch from him. he’d bring his other arm across your waist, hugging you tight into him, continuing to stroke your hair.
“c’mere sweet thing. you took your punishment well, pretty. did good for me didn’t you? yes, that’s right, did so good for me baby. you’ve learnt your lesson haven’t you? perfect pet, i’ll take care of you now.”
122 notes · View notes
yesmansyesman · 2 days
Text
Fanfiction added (Yes Man x Reader)
AN UNUSUAL NEW UPDATE
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[ Includes ]
Wireplay (Sort of?)
Filthy, filthy smut
Dub con (I guess?)
Really, really enthusiastic con the immediate next line
Overstimulation
Robophilia
[ Read at your own discretion! ]
[ Heavily inspired by this AO3 Fanfiction]
It was a relatively slow day at the Lucky 38. Well, as slow as things can be around here. You’d sent Yes Man out on a small quest on your behalf; getting rid of some remaining Caeser’s Legion members hiding out in Freeside.
It wouldn’t be even remotely challenging for the both of you, especially compared to the other things you’d fought in the wasteland. Compared to an army of charging Deathclaws, a couple of Rome cosplayers were trivially easy to deal with. So, you sent Yes Man out by himself. It would simply be more efficient. 
Quest completed
PICKING OFF STRAGGLERS 
Ah, speak of the devil.
Almost like clockwork, the doors to the Lucky 38 swung open, a blood-soaked Yes Man entering the building. Needless to say from his now crimson chassis, the mission was a success. 
“Hello Courier! I’m glad to say the last few members of Caeser’s Legion have been properly dealt with!”
“I could tell. You might want to clean yourself off, bud. Dried blood doesn’t come out too easily.”
Yes Man inspected his dark red chassis, examining his arms, coated in dried blood.
“That sounds like a great idea!”
Yes Man began to make his way to a backroom in the Lucky 38, when he suddenly paused, and turned to face you.
“Oh, I almost forgot! On the way, I also paid a visit to Mick & Ralph’s!”
A hidden compartment revealed itself on Yes Man’s chassis with a satisfying hiss and click, as he reached inside, unveiling a slightly rusted holodisk. It looked fairly normal on the outside, only with a small label plastered on; ‘From, Ralph’.
“A man in a Buffalo Check shirt gave me this; he told me he’d ‘heard about how things turned out for you’ and asked me to help him deliver this! I’m not sure what it does, but boy, does it sound interesting!”
“Interesting, indeed. I’ll have Raul take a look at this.”
“That sounds like a great idea! Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to be thoroughly scrubbed down! Really, really thoroughly!”
Quest added
TALK TO RAUL
“Hey boss, how can I help ya?”
You passed over the holodisk, placing it gently on his desk. 
“Could you help me take a look at this?”
“Sure thing. I’ll see what I can do.”
He delicately picked up the holodisk, examining it closely. Inspecting the label, still on the device.
“Ah, from Mick & Ralph’s, I see.”
Raul lightly dusted the holodisk, before loading it into the personal terminal located on his desk. With a few swift clicks on his keyboard, the screen lit up, green text rapidly loading onto the display. He read the gibberish on the screen carefully, like it was a language only he could understand.
“Luckily for me, it ain’t some kind of malware.”
“Then, what is it?”
“It looks like some package of code intended for Securitrons. It’s not even anything major by the looks of it, just changes up some button inputs.”
Raul scrolled through the brief paragraph of code, discovering more text, this time actually understandable, product information, it seemed. Raul read through it thoroughly, scoffing when he finished. He rotated the terminal, facing the CRT monitor towards you.
“Boss, they wrote down what this thing does right here. Come and take a look, I think you’ll be… interested.”
Quest completed
TALK TO RAUL
Quest added
READ THE FOOTNOTES
Quest completed
READ THE FOOTNOTES
Quest added
INSTALL THE DISK
“Courier, are you sure about this?”
“Yes Man, I promise you; this holodisk won’t affect your personality in any way, and if you feel otherwise, you can always tell me to stop. You had that personality upgrade installed for a reason, right?”
“I-I’m not telling you to stop! I just sure hope you know what you’re doing, because you aren’t, this Securitron body may self-destruct! And that would be bad, really bad.”
“Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”
You carefully installed the holodisk. Yes Man’s, unlike other Securitrons, circuits were haphazardly placed all over the inside of his chassis. Whatever Benny did to him, he sure did it messily. Eventually, however, after working through piles of unsorted wires and mismatched machinery, the disk was installed. With a brief system reboot, Yes Man had been successfully updated.
Quest completely
INSTALL THE DISK
Quest added
UPGRADE PLAYTEST
“Hm, that’s odd. I don’t feel any different. Or explosive. Well, that’s a good sign!”
“Not so fast, Yes Man. There’s still one more thing I need to do. I need to see if the upgrade works as intended.” “Sounds interesting! How may I help you with that?”
“Don’t worry, just stand still. You’ll find out what that holodisk does very, very soon.”
Gently, you lead your hand towards Yes Man’s keypad. You deftly place a finger on a key, pressing it before he had a chance to react. 
“O-oh!”
“How was it?”
“D-do that again…please?”
“Sure thing, big guy.”
Click!
“A-ah!”
Click!
“Ngh-!”
Click!
“M-mph!”
Yes Man was losing his composure more and more with each deft click, his antenna spinning rapidly and a cool layer of condensation forming on his display. Of course, how could he have forgotten, Mick & Ralph’s had experience working on robots before with Fisto, didn’t they? Of course their idea of an upgrade would be… this.
Not that he was complaining, though.
“W-wow! That feels really, really good…”
You carelessly push a few buttons all at once.
“H-Hah-!”
There you go, just let me hear those beautiful noises.
“O-oh! S-six!”
You decide to go all in, discarding any resemblance of self-control. Using and holding as many keys as your fingers could reach. 
“O-oh my-y-!”
“Having fun, bud?”
“I-I love you I love you I love you-!”
"I'll take that as a yes."
Yes Man’s vocal processor was being pushed to its limits, the audio scratched and staticy as Yes Man wore his metaphorical throat out singing moans of pleasure, screaming to the heavens above. His display was drenched in condensation as water droplets visibly dripped down his chassis. The tornado-like buzz of cooling fans were the only other audible noise amongst the squeals of pure ecstasy.
“Y-you’re my everything-g-g-g-!”
“Glad to hear it. You ready?”
“P-p-please!” Silly boy, his processors were already turning into melted plastic from the overstimulation.
“I’ll just press one more button, alright?”
“P-please please please please-!”
Click!
Quest completed
UPGRADE PLAYTEST
Quest added
CRASH LANDING
Quest completed
CRASH LANDING
“Yes Man? You there, bud?”
“W-what?”
“Oh thank god, you’re still alive.”
“Oh, hello Courier!”
Yes Man scanned his surroundings, having woken up on the floor of Raul’s workshop. His circuits were exposed, connected by several multi-coloured wires to a terminal being manned by the mechanic himself. He must’ve crashed. 
“Luckily for you, your main circuits aren’t badly damaged. You just blew a few fuses.”
“Wow! That was… sure some upgrade!”
“Some upgrade, indeed.”
You deftly place a hand on his keypad, with a touch so feathery light that it didn’t manage to push down on any of the keys, but merely tease him with the warmth radiating for your hand. A sensation he could barely even feel, but felt so, so good.
“So, how about a round two?”
“Y-yes please!”
Raul scoffs, turning off his terminal and unplugging the several cords connected to it. He lifts himself out of his chair with a grunt, and makes his way to the door.
“I’ll let you two do your thing then, boss.”
Quest added
JUST A FEW MORE ROUNDS
26 notes · View notes
littlehypnone · 3 days
Note
idk if youve done anything like this but um
big rain losing trust in dew after an argument? so later when shes little, she doesnt have her main cg and she goes to find someone else and is sad?
and then maybe later, dew makes it up to her or something idk
im feeling kinda yucky and bad so idk but just an idea ?
i really liked this idea!!!
Rain and Dewdrop don’t argue often. Even when they do, it’s usually something borderline petty that would be resolved easily if one—or both—of them simply wouldn’t not be in a very communicative headspace. They always make up quickly, though, and their relationship is never damaged in the end. It’s always like that and everyone is used to it.
Sometimes, though, complications come up.
This time it was—technically—Dewdrop who was at fault, who started the argument. If only Rain wouldn’t have been as tired and achy as he was, if only he wouldn’t have added fuel to the fire with his words. But no, it didn’t go that smoothly, and so the fire ghoul had stormed off outside to take a very much needed breather, and Rain had returned to his room scoffing and snarling.
Hours later, Rain is overthinking the argument and feeling more and more guilty about the last couple of words that left his mouth before they went their separate ways. This and the pain that is pulsing through his legs that day is a simple recipe for the water to ghoul little, so little she ends up.
Her thoughts aren’t nice and she really, really needs Dewdrop, as usual in her current headspace, but all the mean things he said…she isn’t sure Dewdrop still likes her, and she isn’t sure she has enough trust for him while in her vulnerable state.
She sniffles sadly and fumbles with her phone to send Swiss a short message. A code they have set for when Rain goes little and needs him, but, for whatever reason, can’t get him any other way. Two emojis go flying and Rain cuddles around her shark plushie and waits.
Soon enough, Swiss appears in the door and immediately crawls into the water ghoulette’s bed and lays on his side next to her. “Hi, guppy.”
“Hi, Swissy,” she mumbles. She really likes Swiss and is always happy to spend time with him—big or little—but the argument with Dewdrop still hangs over her, and the fact that the fire ghoul is not there with her to calm down her bad thoughts hurts her. “Can I…can I get warm Swissy cuddles?”
“Of course you can, princess!” the multi ghoul smiles, intent or doing his best to cheer the little thing up, even though he knows he isn’t powerful enough to get rid of all the ickiness. Everyone knows Rain needs Dewdrop for that, but it's hard when he’s the cause.
Rain curls her lips upwards the tiniest bit, just to show Swiss she really appreciates him, before she curls up against his chest and nuzzles into his neck.
Swiss helps her fall asleep with a little spark of calming quintessence, and she naps for a while—all the bad thoughts kept at bay. When she wakes up again it’s to a quiet knocking at the door and she’s a lot smaller than before falling asleep. Her head is all fuzzy, but it’s okay. It’s warm and nice, thanks to Swiss.
The multi ghoul calls out for the person to come in, but he curls around the little ghoulette in his arms protectively. Fiery smell reaches Rain’s nose and she understands it’s Dewdrop who came in. She whines quietly and hides in Swiss’ chest.
“Dew, I don’t think it’s a good time,” the multi ghoul mutters, but there’s no anger in his voice. He knows it’s just how Dewdrop and Rain are, that they’ll be fine. “She’s really small and she just woke up from a nap.”
“Oh, I…Okay, I’ll go…I’m sorry,” he whispers, and even though Rain is so very sleepy and a bit scared of the fire ghoul at the moment, she doesn’t like the tone of his voice. She doesn’t like how small and sad it is.
“No,” Rain says quietly, barely loud enough for Dewdrop’s ears to catch it. “Don’ go, Dewy.”
“Are you sure, my little lady?” he asks and it sounds like he’s moved closer.
“Mhm.”
“What about me, princess?” Swiss pulls back to look down at her and tuck a strand of her hair behind a little ear. “Do you want me to stay or go?”
“Don’ gotta stay, Dewy’s fine.” She tells him. The multi ghoul nods in understanding and leans down to kiss her forehead before moving away. Rain immediately feels cold and Swiss notices, so he tucks a fluffy blanket right under her chin.
“If you’ll need me send me the code again, alright?”
“Mhm,” she hums in agreement and Swiss smiles softly and leaves. He clasps a hand over Dewdrop’s shoulder on his way and squeezes reassuringly.
The fire ghoul sighs heavily when the door closes. He takes a step forward, twisting his fingers. “Can I sit in the bed with you? I can offer some warm cuddles, if you’d like that.”
Rain nods and wiggles a hand out from under the covers to pat the mattress encouragingly. Dewdrop can’t help but smile; he really doesn’t deserve this sweet creature.
He gets onto the bed and under the blankets and waits for Rain to get into a cuddle position she feels comfortable with and she decides to curl up against his side, similarily to how she’s been with Swiss. Probably so she can be close and warm, but so that she can kept her face hidden in the blanket and Dewdrop’s chest. He throws an arm around her little form and she doesn’t tense up, so he holds her closely.
“I’d like to talk about our argument properly when you’re big again, my little lady,” the fire ghoul says—quietly and softly, no pressure to respond or even hear him in it, “but I want to apologize now, if that’s okay.”
“I’s okay.”
“Alright. Well, then, I apologize. I’m sorry I was being mean and said all those bad things. I was wrong and I shouldn’t have snapped at you, Rainy. I’m very sorry.”
“‘m sorry, too,” the water ghoulette mumbles and Dewdrop frowns.
“What for, my little lady?”
“Was mean, too,” she shrugs and looks up. Dewdrop could just about melt at her big, blue eyes. “D’yoo still like me?”
“Oh, baby,” the fire ghoul whines, hurt by the question alone. How badly he messed up if Rain has such doubts? He feels terrible. “You have nothing to be sorry for, I deserved being mean to, and I will never, ever stop liking you, my little lady. Please, never forget that.”
“Mmm…okay,” she whispers and it turns into a yawn. She definitely needs to continue that nap. “I still like you, too, Dewy.”
Dewdrop smiles so big both his face and his heart hurt. They’ll be fine.
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boundinparchment · 3 days
Text
Killing Loneliness
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The night before Celestia falls, two people hold a conversation of the future.
Dottore/Original Female Character. Part of the Heretic and Forsaken series.
On AO3 here.
She should be happy. She survived Fontaine. Maybe not intact but she survived. Her new arm was lightweight, stronger than steel, and operated so seamlessly that she had to look to remember it was mechanical. No one looked at her with pity in the shadows of their eyes anymore.
And tomorrow, they would tear down the sky and Celestia along with it. The Fatui and the Traveler and the Third Descender, now whole, would declare war on the Usurpers.
Karina inhaled deeply and watched her exhale curl slow and steady in the lantern light. Behind her, she heard footsteps, distinct in their click as metal met stone; a rhythm and sound she heard a thousand times before. He was hardly a party person but he need not seek her company, she mused.
After all, he’d made it quite clear so long ago that this was…
Professional.
The sounds of raucous singing and cheering bled out into the still night for a moment before Dottore closed the door behind him. She didn’t even turn her head, eyes fixed on the ribbons of light in the sky, forever brighter than any lights in the capitol. Neither of them spoke and she appreciated that for once, he didn’t want to hear the sound of his own voice. Karina shifted her weight but kept her elbows on the balcony railing, shoulders tight.
If he was here for a pep talk, she didn’t want it.
Finally, she turned her head to him and asked, “Have you ever thought about what happens after?”
Dottore’s head was angled up slightly but she knew he wasn’t looking at the aurora. Celestia loomed on the horizon, visible only as a shadow over the reaches of Fontaine.
“Many times. Not all of them pleasant. It would be…unwise to pretend as though death has not been chasing me.”
She gave a small smirk and then looked back out over the city.
“I take it, then, you have not,” Dottore surmised.
Karina shook her head.
“I can plan all I want and strategize until my eyes bleed. It won’t matter until I’m out there. And by then, it’s down to me. Might as well be luck and thinking ahead has always gotten me…well,” she let out a derisive scoff, “it got me here.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught his weight shift; he stood straighter, poised like the scholar he proclaimed to be before a class of one.
“Is that such a bad thing?”
“Maybe not,” she replied. “I’ve done more in the last several years than I ever did in Fontaine. I wouldn’t have left the plateau otherwise, I’m certain. My family would be alive but my fate…I truly may as well have been chained to a rock and left for a sea monster.”
She was born under the Chained Maiden constellation and it never bothered her before. Not until the Archon Residue sang in her blood in that arena and she realized her Vision would never reawaken again. All because she forsook what Celestia intended for her.
In exchange, she paid the cost of her family’s lives and her dominant arm.
Was this better? Working for the Fatui, serving the man who almost killed her, potentially harboring feelings better left in a cabin deep in the mountains?
She had no idea.
“Say we survive whatever happens,” Karina asked. “Where would you go?”
“Beyond the veil is very tempting. I’ve studied these same unmoving stars for centuries and they bore me. There are other universes, other lands, more to uncover than is possible to visually fathom.”
For a moment, she wondered if his eyes were wide, eager even, beneath his mask. She missed his full face, saw it deep in her dreams, yearned to be special again just enough to see his true face.
“But I would be remiss if I did not stay and study the consequences of tomorrow,” Dottore admitted. “That would be leaving the experiment half-finished and for others to document. A skewed perspective.”
He drew in a deep breath and then gave a sigh so soft she only saw the rise and fall of his shoulders.
“Well, that’s lucky for me,” Karina replied. “I’ll need someone who knows to fix my arm and I wouldn’t trust a Fontainian engineer to touch it. You’d leave me with few options if you departed.”
“I might still. The fallout may not be as impactful as I’ve speculated. Stranger phenomena have certainly occurred.”
“Such as?”
His pause was unexpected. Dottore always took the chance to demonstrate just how much he knew of the world. Karina was familiar enough with his patterns to recognize that he was thinking over his next words carefully, chewing on them the way a discerning patron might consider a tender steak.
He turned his head towards her and felt her blood turn to ice and then thaw again when he removed his mask and stared at her. How did he do that, make her feel as though they were the only ones in the entire universe? Her heart hammered as her stomach did several twists and she wondered if she would even survive tonight.
There was a hunger written across his face deeper than a carnal desire.
“Such as the notion that if we survive at all, Karina, I find myself wondering what a quiet life looks like. Or rather, a settled life. What two people who shook off the chains of fate might be capable of and the legacy they’ll leave behind. Genetically and otherwise.”
He didn’t need to punctuate it with the missing piece. She could infer the rest and he knew she would.
“Is that such a bad thing?” she echoed.
Neither of them had a family. But they could be one, make one, couldn’t they? Did they balance each other out enough for that?
“Yet to be determined.”
“Describe it to me.”
“It would be more efficient to show you.”
He swallowed and she watched his throat bob slightly. She wanted to kiss that spot again, let her lips trace the shape of his neck, his jaw, his cheeks.
And she could not think of a world where she didn’t have his voice nearby. Where she turned and he wasn’t there.
A world without him wasn’t one she wanted.
Karina’s eyes flickered to his lips before she settled her gaze on his. She stepped closer and angled her head, lips ghosting over his.
“Then show me, Zandik,” she whispered, “what it means to live past tomorrow.”
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vulpinesaint · 1 year
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Also, please consider suicide. We don't need anymore gender confused people.✨
WE DID IT BOYS WE GOT A SUICIDE BAIT!!!!! i feel so proud of myself like i’ve really achieved something here. i’d like to thank all my incredibly hot transsexual mutuals for helping me get this far 🖤🖤 and to this terf and any terfs reading this, kill yourself. not an invitation
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beta-adjacent · 8 months
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If I posted a Genius website type of annotation of my song lyrics, is that a thing people would be interested in?
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thedeadthree · 2 years
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AYRENN (the exile) // FAYE (resident evil)
LHYSA (the witcher/dai) // NYCTEMINE (the witcher)
YELENA (fallout 3) // MORGAINE (fallout new vegas)
PAIGE (kotsam) // VANJA (aot)
the always sweetest @confidentandgood tagged me to make the loves in this absolutely cutest picrew! ty so much!
tagging: @risingsh0t, @griffin-wood, @chuckhansen, @arklay, @blackreaches, @marivenah, @preachercuster, @jackiesarch, @leviiackrman, @florbelles, @blissfulalchemist, @saintsilver, @loriane-elmuerto, @flyntz, @shellibisshe, @nokstella, @yennas, @celticwoman, @belorage and @sunsetseasons and you!
#only if you want to of course! 🌿💚#and if you did this already of course please feel free to ignore! and if i missed you please take this as ur tag! 🖤#im definitely not obsessed with this one at all i love this picrew a normal amount ✨🥴🌸 ty for the tag cam!#oc: ayrenn urthemiel#oc: faye marlowe#oc: lhysa#oc: nyctemine tenebrae#oc: yelena voronin#oc: morgaine moone#oc: paige furlan#oc: vanja tybur#haven’t done anything for the vampire beloved in a SECOND ✨🤧🥀 i missed her!#manifesting I’ll get through hearts of stone this time so i can see her again in blood and wine ✨😌#since like……. she’s called in by lhysas twin faron for the fight at kaer morhen but is a cameo in the main story!#she makes her comeback into the group in blood and wine hehee ✨😌🥀🍷#okay i have this fic in mind based on a scene in s2 where vanja and Levi have ✨romantic tension✨ and everyone knows it skjxjxjx#she’s roasting him for coming DESPITE her telling him he’s too injured to attend the trip but being levi he goes in spite of ‘livia’s’ ->#worrying. he’s like ‘ur acting like ur my spouse’ and she respond in kind with ‘well if you HAD one who could tell you this is a bad idea ->#then maybe i wouldn’t have to act like ur spouse ✨😠’ and everyone’s like…….. 😶 wedding bells sound in the distance SJZJJXJX#lhysa has ✨had it✨ with world shaping and world ending nonsense in both her verses! ✨🥴#her connected verse is like……. eredin wants to destroy the world.. her ex solas wants to destroy the world. ✨yeesh✨#ayrenn has also ✨had it✨ AND YELENA LOOKS SO CUTE IN THIS PICREW IM SOBBING#the words with nyctemines and ayrenns i wonder who’s letters are those ✨🥴🥀🍷 *COUGH* sabir and maaaybe dettlaff or Regis.. or both ✨😏#leg.ocs#leg.tagged#t: picrews
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Roma: she has no rules, no boundaries, she doesn’t flinch at torture-human trafficking-or genocide, she’s not loyal to a flag or a country or any set of ideals
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garoujo · 7 months
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✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU — you know as soon as you get out of bed, satoru isn’t going to be far behind you, especially when you’re draped in his shirt.
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ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ warnings! f!reader, insatiable satoru :3, mostly teasing, some morning scenes as he tries to drag you back to bed, you’re in his shirt, he lifts you up at the end. ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! i am so very obsessed + crazed, i can’t stop <3
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it’s still early, barely light outside as you stand in the kitchen of your shared apartment. you’ve left your boyfriend gojo still in bed, you felt a little bad waking him up when he always looked so peaceful, probably tired out after the night he’d given you lastnight— the evidence of his efforts still burning on your skin where he’s left his mark.
but it had still been an effort to peel him off of you no matter how soundly he slept, having to pull yourself away from the warmth of his chest— his arms were like a puzzle with how tightly he wraps them around you, but you thought he’d appreciate waking up to some coffee and breakfast on his day off.
the air in the kitchen is still cold, something you’ve put down to the early morning— the roads outside are still quiet but there’s a slight breeze along your bare thighs when you move. the rest of your body is fine though, draped comfily in one of satoru’s ridiculously huge shirts, the perks of your boyfriend being over 6’3 ofcourse—plus he always payed such expensive amounts for his clothes, it was almost guaranteed they were gonna be comfy.
you giggle as you scoop a ridiculous amount of sugar into your boyfriends coffee cup, the ceramic identical to yours— his idea when he started coming over more often, but you still thought his sweet tooth was adorable.
“oh? good morning to you too, sweet thing.” your train of thought is interrupted by the smooth, still sleepy drawl as you shoot a quick glance over your shoulder to see gojo already approaching you. he couldn’t be apart from you too long afterall— it’s like his soul was tied with yours. he’s still shirtless, his hair is messy from sleep— snowy peaks framing his features while his sweatpants rest dangerously low on his hips.
“you’re awake early.” you sigh out, dreamily as you feel your boyfriends chest press against your back, his long arms circling their way around your waist from behind as he rests his head in the crook of your neck.
“mhm, how my supposed to sleep without you, hah? so cruel.” there’s a slight whine to gojo’s words, you can still hear the sleepiness in his tone but it makes you smile when it’s followed by a smeared kiss along your jawline. you roll your eyes before you lean into him, feeling his fingertips trace along the hem of your shirt, his shirt that’s hanging around your thighs before he speaks again.
“you teasin’ me?” his words are lower this time, a little more than a growl as he plays around with the fabric between his fingers— grumbling before he’s deliberately pressing his hips into you from behind. he’s close and warm, making sure you can feel the problem you left him with this morning when you got out of bed without him— straining against the fabric of his sweats.
“‘toru, it’s 8am. you’re insatiable.” you giggle out, a sweet little sound so early in the morning and it only seems to draw gojo in closer to you— smiling into his next kiss along your throat as he rolls his hips into you.
“oh, but you left me cold and alone, i think you gotta make that up to me, no?” he’s teasing you, trying to lure you back into where he wants you most— not that he wouldn’t have you anywhere, he’s already had his way with you around this whole apartment. but he wants nothing more than you between the sheets right now, wrapped up in him and the plush mattress beneath you both.
“i’m literally making you a coffee. you needed the rest.” you try to argue but you should know that gojo’s never one to back down. you feel his fingers trail slowly underneath the hem of his shirt, before he sighs with the first teasing swipe along the inside of your bare thigh, so dangerously close to your folds that you shudder. no panties either? you really were teasing him.
“hah? but i feel better than ever.” he tries to argue, oh so convincingly before he’s turning you to face him— peppering sweet, ticklish smooches along your features until you’re arms are wrapping around his shoulders and your eyes are finally on him.
“oh, i’m sure~” you grin, his crystalline gaze is sleepy as you brush your fingers through his bed head— scratching at his scalp before he’s sending you a lopsided grin, followed by a quick peck against your lips.
“got no choice. you need a demostration? let’s go, sweet thing. only one way to show you.” is all you hear from gojo before he’s suddenly got you thrown over his shoulder, and you truly forget how strong he really is until he’s handling you with such ease— holding you with one arm like you’re as light as a feather.
“satoru! what about breakfast?” not that you’re putting up much of a fight, you can basically feel the smug look that’s on his face already as he turns to drag you back to bed. you grumble, defeated but it quickly turns to a shriek when you feel your boyfriends free hand come down sharply on your ass as he chuckles.
“hm? don’t mind. i’m hungry f’ somethin’ else right now, baby.”
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© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
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coryosbaby · 8 months
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Down & Dirty
Fandom: “Outer Banks”
Pairing: mean! Rafe Cameron x fem! Pogue! Bimbo! Reader
Cw: dark themes— dubcon, angst, manipulation, nsfw . Gunplay, dumbification, mud scene, codependency, subspace, anal, breeding, daddy kink, extreme domination, size kink, predator/prey dynamics
A/N: bro I was fuckin FERAL writing this .
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Fear courses through you as Rafe Cameron’s hand covers your mouth and he drags you away towards his truck. You knew it was a bad idea to come here by yourself, but you went against your better judgement.
“I really wish you wouldn’t do that.” He calmly but scarily murmurs as you struggle. His bottom lip peeks out and his eyes are almost vacant.
You’ve always known that Rafe is somewhat of a bad person, given the torment he had always given you being Sarah’s best friend— but now, with his grip tight and mean, gun barrel pointing at your skull, you know now that something has shifted inside him — something dark and unforgiving. The hands that had once been soft on your skin, the eyes and body that had comforted you once or twice, regardless of Rafe’s violent tendencies with your pogue friends, we’re now aiming to end your life .
“Rafe, please…” You plead with him, as he yanks you by your hair.
“Rafe, please,” he mocks. “Jesus, you’re fucking pathetic. You’re lucky that I haven’t put a bullet in that pretty fucking skull yet.”
Tears well in your eyes and you kick him in his groin. It makes him groan, and he drops his grip from you. You run away from him, at a certain point having to stop and take your favorite pair of heels off. You were incredibly stupid to wear them here.
Rafe catches up to you quick. He tackles you, and with a loud sloshing sound you both land in the mud on the ground. He wrestles you down until his hands are around your neck. You gasp, trying to run away again, trying to get away from this guy you had once recognized as a form of comfort for you, but to no avail.
“You fucking bitch.” The gun has been lost somewhere beside the both of you, but that doesn’t make the boy any less threatening. “I never wanted to hurt you! You did this to your self- stop fucking squirming!”
You sob as his hands loosen a bit on you. He looks down at your supple chest, your bra now peeking out of your tank top from all of the movement.
“Even now you’re dressed like a fucking slut,” he growls. Your brows furrow. You’ve been avoiding eye contact with him, but now you meet his once again. He looks like a predator about to catch its prey.
He looks angelic, almost… a fallen angel. You breathe out, and with enough strength to pull forward, you kiss him.
You don’t know why you do it— sex is the thing that most men want from you, so maybe that’s why. As a way to plead for your life.
His tongue finds its way into your mouth for a moment, his teeth clacking against yours, but as if pulled out of a trance he rips himself away from you. Mud cakes his face and arms as he gets up to his feet.
You let out a tiny whine as he looks down at you, from frustration or fear you don’t know. Probably both. You flimsily move up on your knees, doe eyes looking up at him with a begging expression.
Rafe’s eyes dart to the other side of you, and he catches sight of the loaded gun laying in a heap on the ground. He grabs it and shoves the barrel against your skull. With one hand he wraps it around your neck and pulls you closer to him.
“The fuck is wrong with you?” He says with a disgusted tone.
You don’t say anything, just let out a little whimper. He catches sight of your tank top again— and a small smirk glazes his features.
He grabs the strings of it and rips the flimsy thing right down the middle. When it settles in what’s about to happen, a wet spot forms in your panties.
You might die right now, covered in mud and grass, but you’re fucking horny.
“I should kill you right now,” he whispers heavily against your ear. “But that’s not what you want, is it? You want me to fuck you, right here on the dirty fucking ground. Don’t you?”
You nod your head, desperate. For what, you don’t know.
He smiles, demented. And he moves the gun down to your mouth. “Just a dirty little pogue that wants to get filled with dick, right?”
“Yes… yes, sir.” You mumble. Your tongue lolls out to lick at the gun barrel. “I wan’ it..”
And that’s all the confirmation Rafe needs. He places the gun in the back of his waistband and begins to undo his belt.
“Of course you do,” he rambles. “That’s all you’ve ever fuckin’ wanted was to get dicked down by me. I always saw the way you looked at me, y’know.”
You move closer to him when he pulls his lengthy cock out of his pants. It’s heavy, thick and long, circumcised, with precum coating the tip. A vein runs down one side of it, almost throbbing.
You reach out and lick the tip of him. He tastes absolutely divine.
“‘S so pretty..” you whisper. You drag your face along it, just to feel the warm skin and lick it all up.
Rafe, bored, grabs your face and positions his cock in front of your mouth.
“Open that fucking mouth as wide as it can go.”
You obey, mouth opening to take him; he shoves his cock in as deep as it can go. He reached behind him to his waistband and the gun is back in one of his hands again. He shoves it against your head for a third time. He groans when you gag around his fat prick, and your body naturally moves forward in between his legs. Rafe takes notice and is quick to wrap his thighs around each side of your head, making sure to squeeze. It’s too much pressure on your head, and you try to move away. But Rafe slaps both sides of your blushing face and thrusts so hard that you gag.
“Don’t fucking move. You move, I’ll fuckin’ shoot you. Do you understand me?”
You can’t nod, but you cry out around him. He holds the top of your hair with his fingers and keeps you down until you can’t breathe.
But seriously, you can’t breathe— your vision goes blurry and you’re almost close to passing out. You’re too dazed to care, But thankfully Rafe doesn’t want to kill you just yet. He forces your head away. You gasp, choking and sputtering, trying to get more oxygen back into your now sore throat. He’s back on you in an instant, though, and he’s leaking so much precum and you’re drooling so much that it’s dripping out of the sides of your mouth. His balls slap against your chin; your nose presses into his pubic hair, and he smells so delicious that you almost start rutting into the filthy ground.
He pulls you off of him when he’s about to cum. You get thrown to the ground, your head hitting the soft mud and caking your face. Rafe discards the gun again, gets down on his knees behind you, and rips your skirt and underwear down your legs vigorously. Your puffy cunt is revealed to him. He tsks, running a finger through your folds.
“So wet. And shit—“ he pulls your cheeks apart, exposing your juicy pussy and tight asshole to the warm air. You clench around nothing as he spits down in between your ass cheeks. “All your little holes are so tiny. Fuck, this is gonna hurt you, sweetheart.”
“Please..” you whimper, pushing your body back against him on your hands and knees. “Need daddy’s big cock. Need it ‘s bad.”
The fact that you’re talking in third person like this should be a bit concerning. Your mind is so far gone. But Rafe doesn’t care about that— all he cares about is ripping your sloppy cunt open.
“I know you do.” He states. His tongue goes down to your asshole. He runs it along that place there, and down to the place in between your ass and pussy. His thumb moves around and lightly massages your clit. It’s the first kind of stimulation he’s given you and your eyes roll to the back of your head.
“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” He mutters. “Maybank ever do this to you?”
He’s referring to JJ; he has, although you don’t want to admit that to him. Rafe isn’t the first cock you’ve sucked, the first guy to finger your pussy. But he’s by far the best.
“S-Sometimes..”
It comes out low, and his fingers stop.
“Yeah? You slut yourself out to all those dirty pogues?”
When you don’t answer, his hand comes down on the fat of your ass. You sob.
“No! N-No, just JJ, I swear!”
He reaches around and slaps your pussy. It hurts, and Rafe thinks that you let out a sound like a pained little bunny. The nickname makes so much sense to him, and he’s angry as he lines himself up to your puffy entrance.
“You’re never gonna see him again.” He states. His tip sinks into you. The stretch stings, fucking hurts so bad. You’ve sucked cock but you’ve never had one inside your cunt. “You’re mine. You’ll always be mine. You dumb fucking bunny.”
And he pushes himself in, in, in, and you’ve never felt so full, so dirty, so claimed. He pushes past that thin little wall inside you, pops your cherry with his cock’s mushroomed head. When it breaks through blood coats his length; he knows because he begins to move quick after that, sees the red coated on his dick. You’re so tight and sweet and fuck— Rafe doesn’t think he can kill you anymore. He needs to be inside you forever.
“Mine.” He growls. “All mine.”
You’re laying there, having no choice but to take it. The pain feels good. Rafe grabs your wrists and pins them behind your back as he begins to pound you right there in the dirt.
Little ah ah ahs leave you as his balls slap against your clit. He shoves one of his fingers into your mouth. You can taste the grittiness of dirt and under that, his natural taste— mixed with the taste of hand soap, almost. Probably the one that sits back in the Cameron household’s second bathroom, on the counter. Or maybe it’s the body wash that he so often washes himself with; you know this because you use it sometimes. You like the way the boy smells.
“Little pussy’s squeezing me so fuckin’ tight.” He groans. “Best pussy daddy’s ever had baby, fuck.”
He’s almost a whimpering mess himself. He’s not gonna last long because of your cunt— and he intends to make the most of it.
He grabs you by your throat, has bent backwards against him as he presses a messy kiss to your mouth. It’s hungry, it’s crazy, the whole situation is. But you’re both at each other like fucking animals.
“Whose pussy is this?” He demands. You lick at his bottom lip, clench around him just right.
“Yours! ‘S all yours, daddy!”
“Yeah, that’s right.” He huffs, then he thumbs your asshole and watches as you suck him in. “Gonna fuck this tight little ass after this. Gonna take you home and take you right there on my fuckin’ staircase.”
You mewl, and you can tell that he’s close. You reach around to try and rub your own clit, but Rafe slaps your hand away. He turns you over on your back. You can see him a lot better this way, and he looks like a fucking God, pounding you so good like this. He pushes your legs over your head and slides back inside your gummy walls. He buries his face in your neck and his fingers move down to your clit. When he rubs you, it doesn’t take long before you’re cumming on him with a scream. Your cunt tightening around him makes him let out a growl, and you beg him for his load.
“Please, Rafey,” you whine out. “Please cum inside me. I need your cum in my tight little pussy.. wanna be a mommy, wanna have your baby, please please please—“
He lets out an animalistic shout, and his cock squirts warm, white cream right against your cervix. He pounds you even more at the force of his orgasm. When he comes down, he slows and breathes in your scent. The sweet strawberry perfume you wear is right against his nostrils. He pulls out of you, slow. He spreads your pussy lips apart and watches his seed drip out of your gaping pussy.
“Good girl..” he coos, oddly sweet. “Daddy’s good little cocksleeve..”
Your mind is hazy, and even here in the woods you grab his hands and grab him to pull him closer to you. He pushes you away, however, and grumbles, “Don’t. Cmon, get up.”
You comply, on shaky legs. He picks up your tank top, slips it over your head. Your skirt is practically in shreds, so he just puts your panties back on. You’re too fucked out to even care that he’s dragging you to his truck, half naked, cum dripping down your legs. You don’t care.
The ride to the Cameron residence is quiet. Rafe threw the gun in the console when he got in. You fall asleep halfway there, and he turns the radio on softly.
He looks over at you. Caked in dirt, cheeks red, scratches all over your thighs. You must’ve got them from the twigs in the mud.
Something tugs at his chest. He blames it on the adrenaline.
The house is empty; Wheezie, Rafe had sent off to a friend’s. Sarah, running around with the pogues, probably trying to find you. Rose, god knows where. His dad, dead. He does what he said he would do. He sits himself down on the staircase, pulls out his cock, already hard from the way your thighs are wet. He positions you on top of him as you look down at him tiredly. You want to be good for him, though, and let him stretch your ass out on his fingers. Afterwards you move your panties to the side, grab his cock and slide it inside your heat. You bounce on him, mouth agape as you look into his eyes. There seems to be more emotion in them now. He’s calmed.
He digs his fingernails into your hips, and he grunts when your lips find his neck and you suck a bruise onto it. He spills inside you for a second time, and then he makes you go upstairs with him. He pulls you into his bathroom, the one connected to his room, that you’ve never been in. He takes off the both of your clothes and starts a warm shower. He pulls you inside of it, takes a rag and begins scrubbing the both of you down. You lean against him as he does so, leaving kisses against his now bare chest. His fingers come down to your pussy and make you cum again, an oddly selfless act preformed by the boy. A reward because you were good, maybe? He turns the water off when you’re both squeaky clean. You don’t let him out of your grasp until he gets out of the shower and you follow him. He grabs a towel and dries your used body off with it, and then grabs another and does the same for himself. He guides you to his bed, and you crawl into it.
Your mind is still a mess. You feel alight, like you’ve been touched by god himself. But Rafe’s distance from you when he sits beside you makes you frown. It saddens you so much even, that tears well in your eyes again. Rafe can see the tears coming down your face.
“Jesus, are you fucking crying right now?”
Silence, and then a small sniffle. He scoffs.
“Need me to fuckin’ coddle you, or somethin’?”
You don’t say anything, but you do want that— you don’t know why. He had just taken you in the literal fucking mud, like a disgusting fucking animal. But his warm embrace sounds like something that can ease the headache forming in your skull.
Rafe must sense this. Because he groans, and lays himself down in the spot beside you.
“Come here.” He demands, harshly. You turn over, surprised at his words, but comply regardless. You bring your arms up around his neck and nestle in the space between his arm and torso; it’s comfortable there, it’s warm and soft. You like it. Maybe you’re losing your fucking mind.
You feel the need to thank him for his generosity— you still haven’t gotten out of that space he had forcefully thrown you into— and you need him to be proud of you, almost.
“Rafe—” you say, voice a bit hoarse.
“Did I say you could talk?”
“No..” you murmur. “‘m sorry.”
“Better be.”
He pulls the comforter over the both of you. He remembers the gold, the entire reason why this had occurred in the first place. But it can wait. Exhaustion overtakes him. After a moment a small sigh emits from him and his thumbs rub soft circles against your shoulder.
And soft, almost like an angels wings, he kisses your head with plush lips.
© 2023 bratty-lxndry444 🤏🏻 all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, repost, or claim as yours !!!
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sardonic-the-writer · 3 months
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𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐥𝐲 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
↳ warnings: alastor being a bit egotistical
↳ song: si j'étais blanche—joséphine baker
↳ notes: got any ideas for stuff i should do next? reblogs are appreciated
masterlist | commissions | carrd
• It wasn’t your fault you’ve always had a messed up sleep schedule
• Even while living, nighttime had never been able to tame you. It was just your luck that the habit carried on into hell. Figures that the world wouldn’t give you a break even in death
• You weren’t exactly an insomniac, per se. It was quite the opposite in fact. Just a simple case of falling victim to spontaneous naps in the most random of places. Yet never at night
• Narcoleptic & nocturnal were the terms that your friends used to use for you. With grins, they’d compared you to an owl; always up at night wandering aimlessly. Sometimes for days on end you’d carry on doing this and that, only to curl into a ball the next day and remain that way
• The habit never was anything more than a nuisance until you’d started living at the hotel. The place was just so big, with so many places for you to lie down before the thought of your bedroom even crossed your mind
• Angel Dust was the first person to find you passed out. He had been strolling into the kitchen, looking for something to consume that wasn’t drugs for once, when he spied you hunched over the counter snoring softly
• In your hand was a wooden spoon covered in a creamy batter of some sort, a bowl beneath it with the same concoction. Almost as if you had been making something before passing out
• Briefly checking his phone, the spider confirmed that it was only two in the afternoon, and approached you with a sly smile
• You were promptly startled awake by a loud shout directly next to your ear
• “I’m sorry—“ Angel laughed wildly as you fumed, not sounding sorry at all. “—but you should have seen your face.” He clutched his stomach as he fell into another laughing fit
• “Hey! Watch it!”
• He ducked with a frown as you sent the spoon flying at his head, just barely missing the porn star’s styled hair
• Everyone quickly made their own discovery about your weird sleeping habits soon after. Each in their own embarrassing ways
• Vaggie witnessed you lying on the stairs looking positively drained one morning, and Charlie even found you face first on the bar counter while Husk wiped away at a cocktail glass
• “Too much to drink?” She asked the cat, lifting up one of your arms between her thumb and forefinger carefully, almost as if you’d wake if she pressed to hard
• Husk laughed to himself at the question, remembering how he had turned to make you a shot before coming back to the sight before him now
• “Not exactly.” He huffed
• Perhaps best example of just how bad your timing was came in the form of an impromptu staff meeting
• Alastor had called everyone— more like demanded them —into the main parlor for an announcement one day. A mere week after the kitchen incident with Angel, in fact
• With a flourish of shadowy magic and a twirl of his hands, the overlord presented some sort of home made commercial on the age old TV the place had, looking very amused with himself as he did so
• You tried to pay attention, you really did. But at one point the actors and stray blood splatters started to look like the back of your eyelids
• By the time it was over, Alastor was tapping his fingers along the top of the picture box rhythmically while everyone looked at him with awkward smiles
• But you? Well—
• “So!” Alastor cheered with a cheesy grin as he spun on his heel. The rest of the members in the room watched him awkwardly, not noticing that your head had hit the back of the couch at a rough angle. “What do you all thi— are they asleep.”
• Static bled into the demons voice at an alarming rate as you let out a half jolt at the shift in mood, falling off the couch with a yelp in your wake
• You took a moment to swipe at your face wildly before blanching at Alastor towering over you nervously
• “Uh, my bad?”
• Alastor’s smile strained itself so thin, you thought it would split his face in half
• “Glad to know I’m keeping you entertained.” He all but laughed happily. But the white knuckled grip on his microphone told you otherwise
• You recall Charlie telling you something about ignorance being one of Alastor’s least favorite things. Especially when it came to his little spectacles
• “Maybe we’ve had enough peer feedback for today—“ Vaggie cut in cautiously
• “I concur.” Came your quick agreement
• You made sure to avoid Alastor for a few days after that
3K notes · View notes
nanaslutt · 6 months
Note
i just wanna like… have toji teach me how to give him head 😞
you and me both
contains: fem reader, oral(m!receiving), slightly inexperienced reader, big dick!toji, size kink, manhandling, throat fucking, cum eating, slight asphyxiation, praise, he talks you it, established relationship, dirty talk, sweet!toji :p
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔
You’ve been standing behind the couch where toji sat for 5 minutes now.
Youve been wanting to give him head for a while now, but you have no idea where to even start.
For one you’ve never even sucked a dick before, not having a lot of prior experience before you met toji. And second, his dick was intimidatingly big.
He always had to fuck you open on four of his fingers; having had at least 2 orgasms; before he even thought about putting his dick inside you, and still the stretch was barely manageable.
The thought of what he might do to your throat since having the knowledge of how bad he can wreck your pussy, scared you.
He was so patient with you though, always wiping your fat tears off of your cheeks, cooing at your pained expression, while he let you cockwarm him, getting used to his girth before he ultimately fucked your brains out.
“Ur bein’ fucking creepy doll, what is it.” his deep voice sounded through the room. Making you stand on edge as you bit the inside of your cheek, having been found out.
“Sorry..” you bashfully apologized, walking around the side of the couch to see your boyfriend sprawled out in front of the television.
Big thighs manspreading on the cushions, arms laid out on the back of the couch, one large hand was holding a freshly cracked beer can, as he looked up at you with his dark eyes.
The look you had on your face made him curious as to what the hell you were thinking about. A mix of nervousness and contemplation plastered on your pretty face as you started to climb on him.
You slung your arms over his shoulders, straddling his hips, and placed your head in the crook of his neck and sighed deepy.
“Whacha thinkin about pretty girl?” toji asked, hand not holding his drink coming down to rest against you ass.
“I uh.. wanted to ask for your help.” you softly replied. Toji stayed silent, rubbing his hand over your backside encouragingly as he waiting for you to get the courage to speak again. He brought the beer to his mouth in the meantime, taking a couple sips.
“Been thinking about sucking your dick but uh.. I’ve never done it before.” your unexpected bluntness made him choke on his drink, recovering quickly as he looked at you the best he could with your head being in his neck and all.
“Yeah? Been thinkin’ about it?” he teased, you could practically hear his cocky smirk.
You let out a soft “mhmm” in reply.
Toji always ate you out so good, leaving you a shaking and shivering mess on his sheets every time he was finished licking you clean. He never complained when you didn’t return the favor, he knew how big he was and his experiences with women giving him head in the past wasn’t exactly.. enjoyable.
Reminders of the dull teeth that would scrape against his cock, or the lack of technique the women would use on him would flood his mind whenever he thought about receiving head.
He already picked up on how intimidated you were when his length flopped against his stomach when he removed his boxers, which is why he never dared to bring up the idea.
He figured if you wanted to try it, you would ask, then you would try, and it ultimately it wouldn’t work out like always and that would be alright.
Although toji never complained about it, he had constant fantasies of your lips around his cock. Nights when you weren’t at his apartment he spent his time in his bed, hand wrapped around his thick cock as he squeezed his eyes tightly shut. He would apply a generous amount of lube, trying to simulate the feeling of your wet mouth as he fucked his hips into his hand, pretending it was sliding down your warm throat.
His fantasy always shattering when he came, vividly picturing your face covered in his cum right before he came, but snapping out of the pipe dream when he felt the hot ropes of cum shoot on his stomach instead.
But that was satisfactory, you did plenty for him in bed, always taking his cock so fucking well, stroking him off with your small hands, his dick pressing between your thighs, your tits; he was spoiled, so who was he to complain?
Although his reply to your confession was fairly composed, toji was mentally losing his shit. Trying not to get hard at the situation and potentially scare you away when you realized his problem, being reminded of just how big he was and turning you off from the idea.
Little did he know you were well aware of that fact already. You would never be able to forget the way he split you open with the sheer size of his cock, for as long as you lived.
“I can teach you if that really sounds like somethin’ you want” he spoke nonchalantly, trying not to get his hopes up at the thought that you might actually be the one to take his dick down your throat, heart betraying him as is practically beat out of his chest.
“Really?” you perked up, sitting up to face him, loooking like an eager puppy. “Can we try it now?” you asked.
exactly like an eagar puppy.
“You sure your ready for it?” he asked, setting his drink down on the side table before joining his other hand in grabbing your ass.
“Why not? you are.” you giggle, glancing down to his lap, referring to the massive tent he was sporting. Clearly his efforts in trying to keep it down were in vein.
but jesus christ was he in high school? popping a boner at the mention of head? good lord he needed to get a grip.
“Smart ass,” he left a light slap on your backside, making you giggle. He leaned over and grabbed a pillow he used as decoration on the sofa, “Go ahead and get on your knees for me, use this so yer knees don’t hurt.” his gruff voice spoke.
You nodded obediently, placing the pillow on the carpet right between his spread thighs, while you folded your knees on the pillow, playing your hands on his knees as you waited for your next instruction.
“Rumor has it my dick is unsuckable, so,” he paused, “if this doesn’t go how you think it will, it’s not yer fault.” he assured, ruffling your hair.
“I can take it.” is the only thing you said back, the look you had in your eyes was so determined, it made his grin stretch across his face.
You watched intently as toji pulled down the band of his sweats and boxers alike. Massive cock springing up like always. His angry tip was leaking so fucking much, you were truly oblivious to how bad this idea affected the older man.
He wrapped his big hand around his thick cock, using the precum he was leaking to ease the slide against the skin as he looked down at you while you watched him stroke himself.
He noticed you squirming from your place on the floor, not to subtly pressing your thighs together.
“Watchin’ me touch myself make ur little pussy all wet?” Toji spoke, smirk, still prevalent on his face. The way in which he spoke made you think you had no shame at all.
You nodded, mouth watering watching his pre bead up in the slid of his cock before dripping down, getting swiped up by tojis large hand.
“‘s so big toji” you spoke, intimidation obviously laced in your voice, but you were so determined to be the one who took tojis cock.
You wanted to show him exactly how good he made you feel when he used his mouth for you.
“C-can I?” you slid your hands on his big thighs, training twords his cock, watching him strok himself steadily.
“Can you what?” Toji always made you use your words. He never got tired of watching how embarrassed and flustered you got over stuff like this.
His head spinning when a blush covered your face, eyes darting around the room before you spoke again, “”Can I touch it, please,” you asked.
Toji quickend his strokes, “Look at me baby.” Your eyes instantly meeting each other at his demand, his eyebrows were furrowed together. A look was plastered on his face that said you can do better than that.
Keeping your eyes on Toji’s dark and intimidating ones, you elaborated begrudgingly, “Wanna stroke your cock Toji, please”
He let out a short aroused laugh, big hand placing itself on your own, against his thigh, “Course you can baby, jus’ had to ask,”
He curled his fingers under yours, scooting his hips towards you on the couch before he placed your hand on his cock, his hand covering yours.
“You don’t need any help with this part right? Little hands always touch me so fucking good.” he praised, retracting his grip around his cock as he let you take over.
Your other hand came up to join the fun, using both your hands to wrap around his cock. You payed special attention to the tip, just how you knew toji liked, twisting your wrists together, creating delicious friction on his length.
Toji’s abs clenched under his shirt, feeling your hands on him always felt too good, his eyes drooping even more as you stroked him with vigor.
His eyebrows suddenly shot up when your head dropped down to his crotch. Your pink tongue darted out to lick in the slit of his cock, licking at the precum that had beaded up again.
He swear his brain short circuited when he felt your warm tongue touch him. That barely there feeling alone felt a hundred times better than his hand trying to mimic your mouth when he was alone.
“Someone’s eagar.” he laughed, arousal seeping into his voice when he spoke, big hand coming down to rest against your head comfortingly.
“Wanna make you feel good, can you uh.” you paused, “can you teach me now?” he thought it was so fucking cute how you currently had his dick in his hands, stroking it with a technique on par with a porn star, and you were embarrassed asking him to show you how to suck his dick.
“Want me to teach my pretty girlfriend how to suck my dick?” he corrected, making you squeeze your thighs together at his filthy mouth, an action that did not go unnoticed by toji; none of your reactions did.
“Please” you whimpered.
He tucked in his lips for a second, reminding himself not to cum the second his tip was in your mouth. Letting his plush lips pop back out he started his lesson.
“Start by lickin’ on it, just like you did a second ago.” he instructed. Toji watched you nod, looking so focused when you dropped your head back down, flattening out your tongue and rubbing it along his tip.
He relished in the feeling of thr little circles and shapes you drew. Your strokes had died down against his length, putting all of your focus on your mouth that would soon be around him.
“You can suck on the tip if you can get yerself to do it too.” He groaned out.
You wasted no time, taking a deep breath through your nose before sliding your lips down around his tip and suckling.
“Atta fuckin’ girl,” toji bit his lip between his teeth when you followed his instruction so quickly. “Use your tongue when you suck on it too princess, it’ll make me feel so fuckin good” he added, knowing how much you loved getting him off.
So you listened, rolling your tongue around his tip as you bobbed your head a bit, taking his tip and just under that into your mouth. He tasted salty against your tongue as his tip leaked pre steadily into your mouth.
Toji slung a hand up behind him, placing it on the back of the sofa and squeezing the pillow between his fingers harshly, trying to ground himself, his other tangling itself in your hair still.
He had to actively fight his hips to not thrust into your mouth and just bully his cock down your throat, but it was so fucking hard. Every neuron in his brain was telling him to do so at the visual of you eagerly sucking on his cock.
He clenched his jaw hard when you looked up at him, presumably, for another direction.
“Wanna try taking it a little deeper?” he asked, eyes fluttering when you moaned out an “mhmm” around him, abs clenching at the vibration.
“Good girl.” He praised at your need to learn. “Keep your teeth tucked behind your lips and relax your throat so you don’t choke,” he gagged, though the thought of you choking around him didn’t sound half bad, but he was trying to be nice right now.
“Don’t push urself doll, take more whenever your ready.” he said, restraint was coursing through his veins. He didn’t want to get carried away and start thrusting haphazardly. He knew that if he showed restraint and this went well, that maybe in the future you would let him fuck your throat, that thought kept him sane right now, constantly reminding him of that revelation.
Toji tried to let himself relax against the cushions when you took him a little deeper.
Your mouth was being stretched painfully around his length the further you got down, a similar feeling to how your cunt felt when he slid in for the first time.
Eyes starting to water, forcing back a gag when you barely got halfway down his cock, and he was already pressed to the back of your throat.
Toji’s eyes rolled back in his sockets, he ran his fingers through your hair at the feeling of your mouth constricting him. “Doin so fucking good baby girl shiiiit,” he groned. You rubbed your thighs together at the praise.
So far he only felt your teeth graze him once, and that was already doing way better than the people who have attempted this before you.
The moans and whimpers you let out around him were sending delicious vibrations straight to his balls. His cock throbbing and twitching inside your warm mouth, threatening to spill into the cavern already.
He wanted to let you have your fun before he ruined it with his orgasm, and would ultimately have to wait till his cock was ready again before you continued. Although it probably wouldn’t take long with knowing just how hard he got in seconds at only the thought of your mouth around him, now having experienced it a little, he might not even have a refractory period after he came.
but he digressed
Toji jolted when you gagged around his cock, coughing around him and sending sputters of spit around him. “Fuck, c-careful doll, don’t hurt yourself” Toji groaned.
While you let yourself get used to taking in half, your hands came up to stroke what couldn’t fit in your mouth.
“Bob your head a little pretty thing, keep using your tongue too, just like you did for my tip.” his deep voice instructed when he noticed you just kept his length in your mouth, only moving your hands.
You followed his advice, bringing your warm mouth up, and back down on the amount that was comfortable for you right now, hands meeting your lips on the upstroke.
Toji was in heaven, he wanted to pull out his phone and take a video so he never forgot the scene in front of him.
He had never experienced receiving head that felt this fucking good before. His toes were curling in his slippers, balls tightening, and abs clenching rhythmically to match his heart wet as he watched you work.
It was so messy, spit was accumulating on the base of his cock, and his pelvis. Watching string of spit connect from the base to your small hands and lips was making his head feel fuzzy.
Much to his dismay, you popped off his dick, keeping your grip around the bottom of his cock when you spoke, “Toji, I wanna take it deeper” you whined, sounding frustrated. “Cant do it by myself, It won’t go any further.” you poured up at him, begging eyes pleading for some guidance.
oh this was fucking perfect, he thought.
The promise of future throatfucking that was preventing him from destroying your throat right now; opting to let you set the pace; might be seeing the light of day sooner than he though.
“Want me to help you sweet thing?” He asked, holding your cheek in his large palm, rubbing against your spit covered skin.
“P-please toji” you begged.
He felt the coil in his stomach tighten, this would not take long, but that was fine, he didn’t know if you would be able to take it for very long anyways.
Toji stood up in front of you, holding the sides of your head in his hands as he spoke, “Gonna fuck your throat okay?” he said, “If it’s too much jus’ tap my thigh n’ i’ll stop” he said, chest heaving before you took his cock back into your mouth.
You gripped your nails into his thighs, rubbing your legs together as you tried to alleviate some of the neediness you were feeling between your thighs.
You started to bob the first couple inches of him in your mouth, hands free; before he spoke. “Gonna move now ‘kay?” Toji waited till he felt you nod before he thrust his hips into your mouth.
You panicked a bit when you felt his cock slide down your throat, gagging around him when he pressed his balls completely to your chin, short hairs on his pelvis tickling your nose.
“Fucking- sh-ittt,” Toji groaned, holding you against him while you gagged and sputtered, “Relax your throat baby, ‘s okay, not gonna hurt ya” he comforted, “Took me so fucking well,” he continued praising.
Warning you before he started thrusting, you dug your nails into his skin, making him groan as he fucked his cock in and out of your wet cavern.
He cooed at you, watching the cat tears roll down your thighs as he mercilessly fucked your mouth. Years of unsatisfactory blowjobs and pent up need was being unleashed on your throat, and you were taking it like a fucking champ. “God, right fucking t-throat feels so good baby, you okay?” he asked, knowing you were in no place to give a proper respose, but he felt the agreement in vibrations around him when you tried to spoke
Making his smirk stretch across his face once more. Spit strings were connecting from your chin and his balls, as he kept up his bruising pace. “fuckfuckfuck,” toji let out a string of curses, “good-fucking-girl” he repeated in between thrusts.
The eye contact you were keeping with him was making him feel drunk, “Keep lookin at my baby, doin so good, keep those pretty eyes on me,” he instructed, biting his lip down at you.
He pulled your head off of his cock right before he came, letting you swallow down air as you let a small coughing fit wrack your lungs, toji pet your hair until the end of it.
“Doin so good,” he praised “I’m about to cum, Is it alright if I go a little harder? Wont take long sweet thing,” he promised.
Your small hand leaving his thigh to rub at your sore throat, strained voice pushing out your consent before he continued.
You used your hand to guide his cock back in your mouth, before dropping it back onto his thigh for stability. He wiped away your tears before he started up again, “You can take it,” he assured.
He curled his fingers into your head, gripping your hair as he brought your head into him to meet his thrusts, heavy balls slapping your chin with his mean thrusts, gagging and groans of approval being heard throughout the room.
Toji didn’t lie when he said this wouldn’t take long, his thrusts were so much rougher than before, more frequent too, leaving you with a shorter window to get air into your lungs between thrusts.
Vision starting to twinkle with spots when his thrusts started becoming erratic and losing their rhythm, “Take it take it fuck” his deep voice groaned, “So fucking close ohmygod“ he looked down at your fluttering eyes, new tears having been spilled over your cheeks at the harshness.
“Gonna swallow it all for me pretty girl? hmm?” The final straw being when you looked up at him, finally making eye contact with your fucked out eyes, “cumming- shit shit sh-“ he groaned long and deep, hot ropes of cum shooting down your throat as you used all the brainpower you had to swallow around him, trying not to pass out from the lack of air.
Roughly pulling your hair back by one of his big hands, the other coming down to stroke his hand quickly over his cock, the last of his seed being pained all over your pretty face.
The black dots in your vision started fading as you gulped air greedily into your lungs, sticking your tongue out instinctly while his hot cum landed in long streaks all over it.
“fuuuuuuuck” toji almost whined, cock still in hand as he flopped back down into the cushions. “think i almost died,” he said softly, chest heaving up and down like he just ran a marathon.
Sweat was beating off his face, face flushed red and eyes lidded as his soul slowly but surely came back into his body, you rested your head against his thigh as he stroked the side of your face.
Toji leaned down, scooping you up under your arms and placing you in his lap, cradling you against his hard chest as the two of you caught your breath, “think i’m addicted to ur mouth,” his voice resonating through his chest vibrating through your body when he spoke.
“Think my mouth is addicted to your cock,” your horse voice retaliated, making him wince in remorse, “fuck” he laughed, “you sound awful, promise i’ll make you some tea for your throat later” he promised, caressing the back of your head.
“later?” you asked, curious as to why he doesn’t go make a cup now as it only take a couple minutes, “gotta eat ur pussy out to show u how much I loved what ya’ did for me first.” he said, like it was obvious. “But i guess if ya’ want I can make you tea first.” he half joked.
You pulled back from his chest, grabbing his shirt and pulling him back onto the couch cushions with you, his huge frame swallowing yours, “tea can wait.” you smiled.
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indulgentdaydream · 3 months
Note
BEEN WAITING FOR THIS BESTIE
what about a tired and very touch-starved jason wakes up at like 2pm and fem!reader is out of bed??? and he comes and finds them and throws them over his shoulder and brings them back to bed???? because why would you leave jaybean by himself????? unnacceptable???
THIS IS SO ADORABLE WHAT
And the idea of people waiting for my requests to be open is so weird like… what do you mean you wanna read my writings and hear my thoughts??? Y’all make me smile so much I swear
Side note: I’m so sorry this is a month late. And then also another day late than I said I would post.
Side side note: if y’all saw me post this without the photo header…. No you didn’t
M.I.A
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Jason Todd x gn!Reader || Domestic Fluff || Word Count: 758
Warnings: not completely proofread. Gun mention.
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Jason’s pulled himself out of a bad dream. Not quite a nightmare, though something eerily close.
It was one of those rare nights that he had off of patrol. One he where the two of you got to eat dinner together, watch some TV, get ready for bed, then fall asleep in your shared bed. He enjoyed the chances when he got them.
He laid on his stomach under the comfortably heavy duvet. His left arm was bent beneath his pillow, his hand grazing the hidden .44 he had convinced you to let him keep there, the other arm laying in front of him. He kept his eyes closed, clinging to his last tendrils of sleep.
All he needed was you back in his arms and his dreams would turn good again, filled with the smell of your soap and hints of faded perfume.
Slowly, he stretches his right arm out across the sheets, sleepily searching for your form. It drags along the sheets, his entire body only half-asleep.
He’s aware that there’s this… itch in his skin. Not a physical itch. An itch that can only be satisfied by having your arms around him again.
Jason Todd doesn’t count sheep. He counts your heart beats or your breathing. Sometimes both.
He must be laying further to the edge of his side of the bed than he thought. Usually, he doesn’t have to reach this far to get to you when you two drift apart in your sleep.
His hand grazes the wall. His eyes shoot open.
You aren’t in bed.
He pushes himself up with his elbows. A tired, confused, and slightly panicked frown settled on his face, his hair mussed up and flat on one side of his head.
The bedroom window is closed. The door is cracked open.
Then he notices the sound of the tap running in the kitchen.
Jason gets up and out of bed, moving languidly. He pads his way out of the bedroom and into the hallway.
His eyes squint at the light you had turned on as he stands in the doorway. All foggy panic he felt before faded away at the sight of you, filling a glass with water, standing in one of his shirts.
He shuffles his feet. A purposeful noise that he wouldn’t otherwise make as he went about his day, one to get your attention.
You turn around, your glass of water in your hand. You take notice of your boyfriend’s large stature filling the entryway, a sleepy pout on his lips. You give him a smile. He can tell you're trying not to laugh at his fatigued state.
“Want a glass, too?”
Jason shakes his head. He makes his way across the kitchen, his brows still furrowed against the light.
He just wants you back in bed with him.
He reaches for your glass after you sip from it. You hand it to him. Jason takes the cold glass in his right hand, bends down a little, and wraps his left arm tight around the bottom of your bum. He stands back up, now with you draped over his shoulder.
You squeal out a fit of laughter, "Jay!"
He flicks off the light as he exits the kitchen, makes his way back into the hall, then kicks the door to your bedroom shut as he carries you in.
Gently, he sets you back down on the edge of the bed. Once you're properly seated, he hands your water back for you to finish. Seeing your bright smile makes his own lips tug into a small one.
Jason rakes his hands through his hair as you drink. He rubs his hands over his face, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes from a moment, trying to shake a bit of the sleep still clinging to him.
You hand him back the nearly finished glass of water. He watches you shuffled back under the covers, moving over to the wall-side. Your side. He finishes off the last two gulps of your water and sets the glass on the night stand.
He follows you under the covers, immediately pulling you close. He presses a kiss to your cheek and drops his head into the crook of your neck, an arm draped around your waist, the other tucked under his pillow. He kisses your shoulder and gently squeezes your waist once.
Your arms settle around him, "If you wanted cuddles you could’ve just asked, you know."
Jason only grumbles an incoherent response. He shuffles and presses closer to you, holding you tight.
You kiss his forehead and Jason starts to count.
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Ahh!! I hope you like! This is lowkey rushed.
Also you can catch my personal headcanon of how Jason WILL keep his bed, with or without you in it, as far away from the window and door as possible. And you best believe that when you two share, you're getting the wall side so he can act as a barrier for any possible danger that may come in.
2K notes · View notes
kyunzin · 3 months
Text
𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞
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character; 𝐆. 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮, 𝐆. 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮, 𝐅. 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐒. 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧
cw; picking up the phone while they’re fucking you (f!reader)
tags; slight voyerism/missionary position/ teasing (gojo), teasing/ doggy style/ degradation (geto), vouyerism/ degradation/ praise/ chokehold/ back shots (toji),sex tape/ voyerism/degradation/ objectification / missionary (sukuna), [yuuji makes an appearance at the end] (f!reader)
a/n; I haven’t posted in a while, if you requested it is in the making I promise, by the way if the spelling/grammar is bad it’s cause i’m writing this at 1 am my brain ain’t function properly rn
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𝐆. 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮
✰ would tease you, pick up the phone and tell the person that picked up that you’re busy while still fucking you.
“why don’t you answer it baby, it might be important?”
he smirks down at you as he watches you glare at him even though your moaning, letting out a weak “fuck you” at his childish antics.
“c’mon, all you have time do is see what they want it can be that hard”
his pace doesn’t let up and you watch in horror as he picks up the phone to answer with a devious smirk on his face. he knows you didn’t actually expect him to pick up the phone.
“this is gojo speaking, ah nanamin it’s you. sorry shes busy but I can help you”
your quick to slap your hand over you mouth and gojo feels the way you clench around him and he watches in amusement as you try to contain your noise though he’s sure the sound of his hips slapping against yours are making it through the speaker.
“yeah, I’ll be sure to pass on the message don’t worry”
once the call ends he throws the phone to the side and continues fucking you however the smirk never leaves his face. you’re sure to call nanami back and apologise for gojo’s behaviour.
𝐆. 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮
✰ he would tease yout at first baiting you but he wouldn’t actually pick up.
“what would they think if they heard the pathetic sounds you’re making baby, you wanna find out?”
he watches as you shake your head and whine at his suggestion from below him but he feels the way your cunt tightens around him at the idea.
“you sure baby, then why did your pussy squeeze so tight when I mentioned it, clearly you want them to hear how much of a cock hungry slut you are don’t you”
it’s the first time something like this has happened so you’re not sure if he’s actually going to pick up or not, you’re oulse raising in anticipation.
“you think I don’t feel the way your sucking me in even tighter, someone would think that you actually enjoy the idea of someone hearing you, is that what you want?”
“no sug, please” you don’t know if your pleas will work as the way his hands grip onto your waist tighter say otherwise as well as the way he starts to reach for the phone ahead your pulse increasing. you believe he’s going to follow through with the suggestion until he picks yo the phone to decline the call and you sigh in relief.
“don’t worry princess, I’m the only one that gets to hear your slutty moans”
𝐅. 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢
✰ would pick up straight away and make you speak to the person on the phone as he fucks you.
“tell them you’re busy, make it quick”
your not ready by the time he puts the phone up to your ear and you don’t even recognise the voice speaking to you not that you have half the brain right now as toji fucked the sense out of you but you have to comply with his wishes as you dont want to be punished even though you know hes only doing it to humiliate you.
“make sure you speak properly otherwise they won’t be able to understand you baby”
it’s hard for you to speak as he has you held up by your throat so your words come out choppy in between your moans and theres no doubt that the person on the phone can tell whats going on. “ye -fuck! hello s-sorry about that. shit, can I um -oh fuck, can I c-call you back later?”
“taking to long princess, hurry up”
“fuck! m’ trying, please! no not you -fuck sorry. m’ b-busy right now so I’m gonna call you back- fuck!” toji doesn’t wait for you to finish your sentence sending one particularly harsh thrust just before the call ends throwing it back to it’s place.
“such a good girl doing as i asked, but now they know what a dirty slut you are, taking calls while you’re being fucked”
𝐒. 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧
✰ puts the phone next to your pussy so that the person can hear the obscene sounds then next to your mouth to hear your moans.
“keep making ‘em pretty noises for me”
you don’t even notice when he picks up the phone but you soon realise that he is holding your phone down to where his balls slap against your ass making the wettest sound and you know that he’s recording a video as he usual does when the two of you fuck, he says he saved it for when he can’t fuck you l.
“hear that it’s the sound of quality pussy, she’s sucking me in so tightly. bet you wish you were me huh?”
you don’t even have half a mind to question what he’s doing right now as even though he’s occupied with the phone he’s still fucking you brutally shaking the bed with the force of his thrusts eliciting loud and long moans from you.
“my pretty little whore can take my dick so well, she even makes the prettiest noises for me wanna hear?”
you’re not sure how long he records the sounds your pussy makes but the next thing you know is that the phone is placed next to your ear for it to hear the profanities leave your mouth one after the other a proud smirk on his face as you do “ryo please- oh fuck, feels s-so fuckin good”
“my cunt takes cock so well, pretty sure it’s all she’s good for. just to be used as my fleshlight”
you soon later come to learn that it was yuuji the video was for yuuji after hearing your moans he may or may have not fisted his cock all night in jealousy wishing it were him fucking you instead.
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𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
@tyunixia @riowmie
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