#settled on this just so i could post something lol

[dwaekkicidal]

heyyy! just wanted to say i LOVED ur “much needed reminder” fic. i was wondering if u could do a fic for han? an “best friends older brother” or “older brothers best friend” type of thing. kind of specific but also with spit kink involved? just an ask!! 🤍🤍🐿️🐿️

hi!! I'm glad you enjoyed it :'''') it's actually one of the fics I'm least confident about haha.. anyways, hope you enjoy!! <3

Anime Night

˚ʚHan Jisung x fem!Readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: You join your older brother and his best friend Jisung on their weekly anime night. But the younger boy seems to have other plans with yoy besides watching anime.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: ~2.1k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem reader, reader is Minho's younger sister, voyeurism, fingering, spit kink(hope i did it justice ><), kinda but not really rough sex?, accidental creampie, oh and you know what’s also so hot that isn’t blatantly mentioned? CONSENT. Wowowowow so sexy. You should make sure you practice consent. :)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: i wrote this in a college pov where everybody still lives with their parents (so reader and min live together with their parents and ji lives with his parents but they’re in school)

Sorry if the end was too rushed <3 I'm in a lot of back pain so i don’t feel like i proofread it well lol

MDNI!! smut below the cut

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

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“Pleeeeease!!! You always hog him to yourself! I want to hang out with Sungie too!” Your arms cross over your arm and you angrily pout. You hear the sweet laugh of the boy in question, but you stay focused on your older brother in front of you.

“Yeah, no shit. ‘Cause he’s my friend?” He rolls his eyes, continuing to carry multiple bags of chips to the living room while Jisung follows behind closely with popcorn. “You’re just gonna bother him. AND me for that matter.”

“I don’t care. He would be my friend too if you weren’t such a little bitch about it.” Minho’s eyes narrow at you and you stick your tongue out at him, flipping him the bird for good measure. He makes a disgusted face in response and you watch as his lips part to say something only for Jisung to interrupt him through laughs.

“It’s okay, hyung, she can join. She won’t bother me I promise.”

Minho turns to his friend with an uncertain look on his face, almost denying the boy and resisting even farther until the boy smiles at him cutely.

“Ugh. Fine.. But she’s eating out of your snacks. NOT mine!!”

You squeal and run up to your brother, giving him a hug before running off to your room to change. “THANKS MINNIE!!”

You return shortly after in your favorite pajama shorts and shirt set, happily skipping down the hallway towards the living room again. You stop in your tracks at the sight of Jisung, his bottom lip is caught between his teeth as he focuses on the streaming service. You realize you must have been staring for a while because he turns to you curiously, smiling and giggling when a blush forms on your face.

He’s sat in the middle of the couch, and he welcomingly pats the seat to his left with a soft smile. You smile back and nod, taking your seat and leaning your head on his shoulder. Your brother and him have been friends for a long time, so it’s not weird that you cuddle up to the younger boy. Sometimes even cuddling up to both of them when Min was in the right mood. So he leans back onto you, allowing you both to enjoy the warmth before you hear Minho’s footsteps returning. The younger boy looks down at you with a slight frown when you move away to grab your drink from Minho, but quickly forgets about it when a blanket is thrown at the back of his head.

“YA!”

After the two boys spend a few minutes bickering back and forth, they settle down and watch the show’s intro begin. The two of them sing the intro together, dramatically clutching each other, and you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. You whisper a quiet “Dorks” under your breath and lean back into the couch to enjoy the rest of the intro.

Once the episode is finally starting, Minho hands you a bag of chips he knows you like and Jisung flings a blanket across both his and your lap. You thank them both, smiling to yourself and losing yourself in the animation.

It’s not long until you feel a cold hand ghost along your thigh. You acted normal on the outside and screamed internally until the hand stops to rest along your inner thigh. He feels you tense up and almost pulls his hands away, but then your thighs instinctively clench, unintentionally squeezing his hand between your thighs. In his peripheral vision, he sees you biting your lip with a small blush and it only gives him more confidence to move forward.

Throughout the years he had never gone this far. Only ever putting an arm around your shoulder in situations when he felt the need to protect you from other men people. His fingers stroke the inside of your thigh for some time, soothingly squeezing it anytime your legs jerked out of anxiety. As the episode goes on, his hand moves farther and farther up your thigh until he’s eventually tracing the hem of your underwear.

By the time the next episode is starting, your breaths have become heavy and your panties are sticking to your pussy. You swear he can tell. And you don’t mean to be getting horny like this, but when his hand keeps moving farther up your thigh with every celebration or booing of a scene, you can’t really help it.

About 10 minutes into the 2nd episode you feel his fingers breach your underwear. The tips of his fingers start to rub small circles onto your clit and it has you keening into your hand. You whip your head towards him and expect to see him looking at you, but instead you're met with his face still glued towards the screen, an amused grin now covering his features. The fingers on your clit push down harder and you sigh quietly, your eyes fluttering shut as he continues to mindlessly draw random shapes onto your sensitive bud.

Suddenly the sound of both men laughing out loud catches you off guard, your legs clamp shut around his hand in fear of being caught. He quickly pinches your inner thigh and you hesitantly open your legs again for him. Your eyes dart to Minho and you’re thankful for his eyes still being glued to the screen.

“Jisung…” You moan against his arm, attempting to get a little bit of his attention, but he silently puckers his lips to shush you. You frown and one of his fingers move down to slide against your folds, gathering and spreading your wetness before shoving itself into your warmth.

Your head rolls until it’s resting against the back cushion of the couch and he struggles to hold back a grin. You faintly hear them start discussing a fight scene that just happened, but your mind is so focused on the now two fingers that are slowing fucking you open so you don’t process any of it. You feel yourself getting closer and closer as the episode goes on, but when you feel yourself start to come undone Minho suddenly jumps to his feet.

Jisung’s hands fly away from you and you both look up at the oldest with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, very thankful for the way he is stretching his body and not paying any attention to either of you. “Alright, I’m heading to sleep. I bought the snack so I’m leaving the cleaning to you guys.” He sticks his tongue out before literally running off to his room.

The two of you sit there in silence, your heavy breathes filling the air as your hearts beat out of your chests. A nervous laugh from him breaks the silence, “That was scary as fuck.” The sudden speaking almost scares you shitless but it pulls a giggle from you and you nod in agreement, “Yea… holy shit.” He looks over at you and smiles, but suddenly rises to his feet and throws the blanket off of your lap, grabbing at the elastic of your shorts. You’re given no time to react before he pulls your underwear and shorts off in one swoop and throws them on the floor next to him.

“W-Wait! Ji?!?” You hissed and clamped your legs shut, “He’s gonna hear us!”

“That’s.. kinda the point? ‘M tired of hiding how hard you make me. Need you to finally be my pretty thing.” Your glossy eyes look up at him, and he feels his heart skip a beat when you make a sad face. “W-What?”

“Haha I thought it was obvious that I liked you? Now let me make you mine, ‘kay?” His voice gets deeper as he leans in, finally pushing his lips against yours. He uses the distraction to spread your legs apart, pushing them up so he can pull your ass to the edge of the couch. You take advantage of the new closeness and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

He spreads you wider, trailing his hand back to your folds and running his fingers through them teasingly. You gasp into his mouth when two of his fingers sink back into you, starting off at a fast pace as they try to bring you back to the orgasm you got denied.

He pulls away for a moment and leans his forehead against yours, “Fuck, my baby…You look so pretty like this. You’re fucking perfect… I need you so bad.” You whine at the sudden praise and bite his lip desperately, wanting him to kiss you again. He moans loudly and you swear you can see his dick twitch against his sweats.

You watch in awe as he backs away from your face, allowing a big glob of spit to fall from his pretty pink lips that lands perfectly on your clit and trails down along your folds. You moan embarrassingly loud at the sight and he only smirks before putting his fingers back to work. His lips find yours again and his tongue trails along your bottom lip, pushing in and sloppily making out with you until he feels you clench around his fingers.

You pull away to throw your head back when his fingers start to move faster, gasping as your orgasm starts to hit you like a bus. Nothing but squelching sounds fill the living room as he finger fucks you through your high. He doesn’t stop for a while, and he honestly would have pushed you to cum again like this but you push him away in need of a breather.

You lift your head in time to see him shove his fingers into his mouth, groaning at the taste of you on his tongue. “As much as I wanna see your pretty lips wrapped around my cock, I think we can save that for next time. I need to fuck you right now or else I’ll actually fucking die..”

You laugh breathlessly and watch as he shoves his sweats down, not even bothering to take them off all the way before he pulls his dick out. You moan softly as he spits on your folds again and runs his tip through the wetness repeatedly. He only finally pushes in when you playfully smack his shoulder with a whine, and the stretch pulls a sigh from both of your lips, followed by a low growl from him. He thrusts a few times to test the waters before quickening his thrusts and pulling desperate moans from you that only egg him on, pushing him to slam his hips into yours even harder as he almost forgets about the boy down the hall.

“Shhhhh, you gotta stay quiet baby... If Min wakes up then I can’t keep fucking you.” He says so convincingly until he starts pounding into you roughly, pulling even louder sobs from your mouth. Your legs are quickly thrown over his shoulders and he doesn’t let up even once, instead watching with a sinful smirk as your fingers claw into the couch below you.

He fuck you like this until you start to clench around him, his eyes always shooting back and forth between your face and where he’s entering you. “Look at me, pretty baby. Open your mouth for me okay?” You open your mouth and stick your tongue out in response while holding eye contact, and he leans forward to allow more spit to fall from his mouth. This time it lands on your tongue, and he doesn’t even have to ask before you’re obediently swallowing.

His eyes roll into the back of his head and you feel his hips stutter against yours, “Fuck… Baby ‘m not gonna last. Especially when you’re so sweet..” 

“J-Ji, please.. Love you-“

“I love you too baby. Now be good and cum for me, okay?” One of his hands goes down to messily rub back and forth on your clit and it sends you over the edge. You find yourself hiding in his neck and moaning against the skin there in an attempt to quiet your moans.

Then like that, you’re coming hard around him. He follows not long after, whining praises into your ear as he slows his thrusts. He moans lowly against your shoulder as he fills you to the brim, enjoying the warmth of it all until your voice breaks the silence.

“Fuck! Ji.. you came inside!” You hissed out, trying to keep your voice down while still out of breath.

He smirks down at you, pulling out and pressing a kiss to your forehead as he backs away. “Sorry baby, I couldn’t help myself. Don’t worry about it right now. Let’s get you cleaned up and in bed before Min comes out here and kills me.”

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Taglist:

@jiminssluttyminx @changisworld @juskz @linohumina

#sian’s writing #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids x reader smut #skz smut #skz imagines #skz x reader smut #skz x reader #han jisung smut #han jisung x reader #han jisung x reader smut #han jisung imagines #han smut #han x reader #han x reader smut #han imagines

[slippinninque]

🪢Pendulum 🪢

Fontaine let's it go

Fontaine x blackfemreader

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+, oral, cursing(m receiving, mentions of f receiving) bondage, p-in-v intercourse, soft!sub!fontaine, soft!dom!reader(hopefully), praise, dirty talk, before-work-post (may need some editing later lol)

a/n: 🤭...🫣

Clothes were tugged and flung off, you laughed as a pair of boxers were playfully slung your way.

"Slow down, baby, slow down. I wanna savor it."

"...What about the socks?"

"Kept on as agreed. What I got matches anyhow."

-----------

The strength of your first pull surprised him. The both of you grunted, you in satisfaction of Fontaine's surprise.

"There we are." You hummed as you continued to hoist him up. Fontaine's stomach swooped when he felt the ground vanish beneath his feet.

Fontaine was bound like a plank, arms roped to his sides and legs together. The rope was a luxurious black and could feel the quality in the give.

A few coils of rope bound his ankles and ended right above his socks. Those were nonnegotiable as while he did love you, he didn't trust you to leave his bare toes un-tickled.

As you tied and anchored the pulley , Fontaine craned his head as much as he could to follow the ropes of your creation. A few steady pulley wheels fed with rope, holding him securely.

There was a thick, foam mat settled beneath him that covered a good feet of the floor. A portable speaker played music from your phone, soft in the backdrop of the otherwise spacious basement. The ambiance was warm and relaxed, just as how you were dressed in your tiny shorts and camisole.

This was something that took time. Fontaine felt his chest grow warm, thinking of all the reminders that you loved him. He only mentioned it in passing, how good you looked when he made you his personal Now & Later.

"Can't remember the last time I was high up," Fontaine avoided your gaze, "Ain't never been tied up befo'. Girl cuffed me once...didn't ask me so I broke out of 'em. Made her mad as hell."

He saw your face sharpen into disapproval but put a hand on top of your head, "I wanna know how you'd do me, pretty."

"How are you feelin'?"

Seemingly summoned by his thoughts--you rounded from behind him with a hand lightly on his hip to rock him.

Excitement exploded through him, he sucked in a shuddering breath.

"I feel good."

You came up to him and leaned up to kiss him, grounding him. Pulling away but keeping a gentle hold on Fontaine's face--you stared into his blown eyes.

"I love you, Fontaine. Loving me back, right now, means that you are to tell me if you're ever uncomfortable or frightened. Understand?"

He cleared his throat and nodded, turned on by the firmness of your voice and then caught out

This was for him. Fontaine asked for this and you said it was okay. It was hard to say out loud but your previous trust in him made him curious.

The memory of how free you were in yourself, how deeply you slept after. From trusting him.

It's okay to want to feel good, 'Taine...

You didn't have to say it. It was in your eyes, always, when you looked at him. Maybe that was just him. Always drawn to the better spots of himself that you kept warm.

"I'm all yours, baby."

You smiled up at him and with both hands on his hips, began to sway him from side to side. Tingles ran through him, the feeling was nothing like he imaged but somehow better.

The joys of being in a hammock, the thrill of standing on a tire-swing, the fire of seeing your pretty ass with that giddy look in your eye as you began walking around him.

Fontaine went along for the ride and couldn't help looking up at the system you've created. With his size, Fontaine was a bit concerned about him accidentally hurting you if something gave away. With what you made and how you tied him,

“Yeah, this may be a bit more than what we talked about, but I wanted to do it right. I think you know what that's like."

Fontaine was building momentum and soon you were wearing matching smiles as he swung. A gentle motion that rocked the feathery-nerves in his stomach into swirling desire.

There weren't any signs of distress from the rig and the background of unease faded from Fontaine's mind because you had him.

Fontaine trusted you more than any of his former lovers. He eased fully into the hold of the ropes at the same time you reached up to briefly cup his cheek.

"You look so good, baby."

"I was gonna tell you the same thing."

"What a sweet man I got, always so good to me."

You kissed over his chest and the scars you came across was given special care. Fontaine tingled at your words, your touch. The two-tone of your hands on his skin, seeing everything...why did it feel...?

Desire etched into the gentleness on your face. Fontaine could feel your fingers rubbing at him beneath the ropes. He swallowed as he watched you take in your fill, feeling your hands run up only to slowly thumb down the ropes again.

The comforting pull and sway of his own weight paired with your attention made Fontaine's earlier fears absolutely moot.

"I won't drop you," you said to him, "I promise I won't let you fall, 'Taine."

"I like this," you decided out loud, "I can touch you all I want without gettin' flipped over too soon."

Fontaine shivered beneath your plucking and you were all teasing grins. The sensations lit him up and he could already himself start to harden. You wriggled softly against him and the dual feelings of bare skin-rope-cloth made him moan.

"Hn!" The noise escaped him in a gasp when your tongue suddenly laved over his nipple.

"You're so heavy, 'Taine..." you purred as you stroked him gently, "It's one of my favorite things about you."

"All fo' you, baby."

A warm noise came from you, one he's never heard before. Keeping him close and still by his dick. There was another bite of your teeth and Fontaine hissed, jumping in your hand.

This...this was new. Anticipation edged his every thought as he wanted to know what else you would do to him. Fontaine wanted to know just what you were capable of.

Your breath puffed against him as you switched to the other side of his chest, both of your hands went down to cup and squeeze just a bit. Fontaine's breath hitched in chest, hips stuttering forward but not moving much.

"I'm going to give you the show I've always wanted to." Your dark eyes crinkled with your blissed out smile, "And maybe take a lil' revenge too..."

Fontaine made a protesting noise when you pulled away to vanish behind him, "I ain't even do nothing."

"Oh, like you don't be knocking the Mario Coins outta my ass everytime you get a chance?"

Your words were punctuated with a spin. It wasn't fast but it was enough of a surprise treat to make Fontaine bite his lip. Once he slowed, he was able to spot the set up you fashioned behind him. The small pop-up dinner tray from the living room, the footstool that was previously gathering dust in your shed, and...

Fontaine heart thudded when he spotted vibrating wand set in it's charging port. It's light winked cheekily at him as the situation fully dawned on him.

He was at your full, desirous mercy. Was that a good thing?

"I see the look you get when you have me right where you want me. I want you to see how it looks. How it feels to be given everything."

Fontaine watched as you grabbed a bundle from the tray. Knee pads. You took your time in strapping them on before dragging the footstool over to where Fontaine dangled.

You looked up at him with tender eyes as you gently put your hands onto his thighs. Thoughts of inadequacy knocked at his door. He suddenly felt so bulky, so rough next to you.

You hugged him around his legs, kissing his knee caps. Fontaine was swallowing the lump in his throat when you spoke.

"You gonna take what I give you, 'Taine?"

Nothing more, nothing less. Fontaine would take your scraps or your gold--he'd give anything just for you to have it.

He didn't say it but you nodded anyway, patting him lovingly.

"Of course you will..."

-----

And take is what he did. Everything you had for him, he took beautifully.

In return he made nosies you've never heard from him before. With him still, you were able to find out that he was sensitive at the hip bones and maybe not all tickling was bad.

Ultimately, you discovered that Fontaine likes being teased just as much as you did which only spurred you on.

Fontaine tried to talk big shit when the wand came out but was so prettily offended you used it on yourself first. You laid back on the mat and spread your legs for him, only pushing your shorts down enough for your access.

All Fontaine had to work with was the sight of the damp-dark spot in the center of the stretching fabric, your pleasure-stricken face.

" 'm sorry, but I wanted to warm it up for you."

He pouted as you drug an orgasm out, keening and arching and pinching your nipples as he stared on jealously.

"Noo, poor baby, don't make that face! I'll make it up to you, c'mere...."

Thats when you put your mouth and knee pads to good use.

You had him down your throat when he gasped your full name at you, pulsing behind your tonsils in response to your stuffed laughter as you eased him into a gentle swing. Tick-tock, in-out, tick-tock, in-out. You tugged at the gentle roping around his balls and swooned at seeing the muscles in his legs jump.

Fontaine thought he was giving in, allowing himself to be put onto a passive display, but it was you that was folding. Running a hand over his firm ass, his thick waist, you gorged yourself on Fontaine. You were on your knees for him long enough that wondered who was more far gone.

The more you played with him, the deeper you fell and wondered if this is what Fontaine felt when you were at his mercy. It was a heady feeling, it was intoxicating. The sight of his big, beautiful body wrapped in black with his grill winking in the dozy lighting--

Earlier plans faded into the sounds of Fontaine's gasping and moaning. You couldn't think ahead any longer as you became needy.

Fontaine grunted as you pulled off his dick to rasp, "I would love to do this again. Maybe you can pull me up, I can show you how. There are a lot of fun things we can do in the air."

"Yeah, yes, please..." He made a thin noise of panic as you shuffled around a bit before beginning to stand.

"It's okay, it's okay--im just getting us ready."

You grabbed the loop of rope hidden behind his ankles and tugged it down enough for it to fasten to the metal screw -loop you drilled into the floor.

A little push and Fontaine was set, taut and unmoving for you.

"I can be upside down for you, spread. You'd like that?"

His eyes went wide as you came before him and bent over, your glistening pussy so pretty in the light. He liclrd his lips as instinct had him reaching for you.

Tutting at him--you reached back and held him steady as you went on to tip-toe. After all of the play you did for the both of you, Fontaine slid home into your heat and groaned out loud.

He had no time for reprieve as you bounced back against him. The position was.more than enough for him, stars bursting behind his eyelids at the feel of you. So wet and messy from doing nothing but wanting to make him want to cum.

He wouldn't last long, he couldn't last long. Not with your desperate sounds mixing into your diabolical plans of taking him apart again in the future.

Fuck, he loved you.

" 'M gonna figure out a way to tie her to your face," you looked over your shoulder at him with a blissed out as you pressed back and squeezed, "Would you like that? I can find those-those pink ropes so we'll match again."

Yes. Fontaine's mouth dropped open as he moaned, the image of you being fastened to his face was too much. He came, hard and long enough that he wasn't sure if he was present for the whole of it. It felt like every one of his nerves were jostling together, chasing after one another and leaving his orgasm on loop.

"That's-that feels good..." You whimpered and finally stilled, Fontaine still pulsing right up against your spot as he filled you. He could only focus on pulling air back into his chest, Fontaine lolled his head back to stare up at dancing spots on the ceiling.

He wasn't sure if he'll ever want to touch the ground again.

Fontaine yelped when a buzz was set against his dick. Without him noticing, you inched forward just enough to keep his tip hostage as you grabbed the wand and settled it on you both.

Fontaine whined with you. He swore he trembled with you as your tumbled towards another orgasm, pussy fluttering around his tip. His toes curled and Fontaine could feel that welcomed coil in his belly tightening again.

"Mnnf-fuuck, 'Taine, 's close..."

"C'mon, do it baby, please." Fontaine's forced his eyes to stay open to watch yours pinch shut, "Wanna feel you make a mess over it, please..."

"Mhm, wanna make you feel so good--wanna make sure you know what I'd do if you forget..."

Fontaine gasped out your name as he shook apart. If his hands were free, he'd push himself away. He'd back out of your little pink vortex and try to screw his head on straight.

If you weren't taking care of him, that's what he would have done. Yet, Fontaine was at your mercy. He wanted to give you everything you wanted and if you wanted every single drop from his body--it was yours.

"Fontaine, Fontaine, 'Taine! Fuck!"

It was your turn to burst. Bracing a hand on the mat below as you smooshed the wand's head over where you connected--your clit and just where Fontaine was still inside you.

Fontaine sobbed at the conflicting sensations of his scattering nerves and the rolling ecstasy of being in the eye of your orgasm. Caught in your greedy little hands and being dunked in the oceanic pull of euphoria crafted just for him.

It was then Fontaine discovered that, apparently, souls could still wear rope.

He had the pleasure of watching you come apart from somewhere above you both. Floating, dreamy, and feeling nothing but satisfaction.

Switching of the wand and letting it fall onto the map, your centered yourself for a moment before slowly letting Fontaine slip out of you. The basement echoed heaving breaths and Ms. Badus' crooning from the other side of the room.

"Damn it," you panted, "...I think I got a head of myself."

A laugh burst out of him, loose and incredulous. What else could you have had planned for him, his little mastermind?

Fontaine wanted a kiss more than anything. Wanted to touch you, curl up on your lap and sleep for a hundred years.

He leaned his head forward, eyes fixed to you as you hurried to the fastening post. Had he said that out loud? Fontaine felt himself sway as he was lowered, feet touching down onto the mat for the first time in what felt like a year.

He didn't have too long to be unsteady as you came to his side. You made quick work of the ropes, offering yourself for Fontaine to lean on as his jelly-bones solidified.

"Did you have a good time? I'm sorry if it was over too soon...I got excited."

Fontaine hummed as exhaustion began seeping into his bones. He followed you down onto the mat and melted into the foam.

You handled cleaning you both up and massaged Fontaine's arms and chest. When you rose to get his legs, Fontaine latched onto you. Going easy on him--you decided that perhaps a nap would be best before food.

Fontaine wanted to cuddle and you'd gladly be of service to him, but you managed to get him to drink water. The both of you laid there long enough for sweat to cool and for you to hear Fontaine's breathing smooth.

"Wha's better than a good time?"

His sudden question made you smile into Fontaine's neck as you pondered, "Maaybe a 'great time.' Yeah, that sounds right."

"Had a fuckin' great time."

Fontaine watched the your face brightened with pride. You turned away to hide it, pressing your fingers lightly into the prints left behind.

He had so much to say beneath the pillow-y feeling in his head. You hummed and loved praises into his skin. Telling him how good he was for you and how much you appreciated his trust.

"Do you have more rope?"

"Hm? Sure, I have plenty."

"....What was the other stuff you had planned?"

As wrung out as he was, Fontaine still throbbed when your head snapped up to face him. A deep, promising kiss was given to him. Long enough that he was beginning to doze off before you pulled back to lay your cheek over his heart.

"Oh, 'Taine. I can show you better than I can tell you."

Promises, promises. He wanted to tease but sleep crashed over Fontaine, your tinkling little giggle being the last thing he heard.

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ending notes: heheheheeeee I hope ya'll liked this 'cause it was just rotting in the drafts lmao. I'm not sure how ya'll feel about this 'taine, but i just wanted to put my man in some ropes lol! And I wanted to make him beg a lil 🫣 Tell me what ya think!

✨taglist✨: @megamindsecretlair @thadelightfulone @mag1calenchantr3ss @cocoeffects @wide-nose-and-wonderful @8ttached @thadelightfulone @hobiesmain @thickeeparker @longpause-awkwardsmile @ms-angiealsina @educatorsareslutstoo @mysterychick93@sageispunk@hunnishive@notapradagurl7@mcondance@longpause-awkwardsmile@educatorsareslutstoo@miyuhpapayuh@mogul93 @kindofanenigma @ms-angiealsina@kindofaintrovert@westside-rot@blowmymbackout@mcondance

#Fontaine x blackreader #Fontaine x blackfemreader #Fontaine x BlackFemreader #Fontaine x Black Reader #Fontaine x black!fem!reader #Fontaine x Black!Fem!Reader #They Cloned Tyrone #they cloned tyrone film #John Boyega fic #Fontaine x Reader #Fontaine x reader #x black reader #fontaine #this one was was pure vibes weed and me wondering too long

[obwjam]

Could we perhaps get 33 with Shawn and Lassy? Psych GT pog 🤙

“What are you hiding behind your back?” 

“…no one – uh – nothing…”

sorry this one took me FOREVER dawg shawn is so hard to write. he's so dumb. it's hard to channel that energy. i love him

from this post

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“Shawn, we CANNOT bring them with us.”

“Oh, c’mon Gus, don’t be the crust of a half-eaten sandwich thrown in the dumpster behind an Applebee's.”

You smiled. You never got tired of their never-ending banter.

See, you had been found by this pure enigma of a human named Shawn Spencer. You weren’t doing anything wrong, either – you had been moving from building to building, trying to find a relatively quiet space to settle into. The Santa Monica weather was like a borrower’s paradise, so you really just needed somewhere slow, but safe.

This building, you discovered, was rarely ever used, except for a handful of humans who would come through every so often. You kept your distance, never made a mess, never left your hiding spot if anyone was there. Just like you had done in the countless other places you had called home.

But this one found you. He set up a trap, too, so even though he was gone for hours, you were stuck under a metal bucket until he lifted it up and gaped at you in total shock. Eventually, he told you he was able to figure you out because he was psychic… whatever that meant. You were fortunate that he was, ultimately, a kind person, if not a little invasive. At least his friend Gus seemed more freaked out by you than you were of him when Shawn introduced you to him against your will. That was a weird day.

Now, you were sitting in Shawn’s hand as Gus piloted their little blue car. You didn’t really like to be carried, but Shawn was overly eager to show you all aspects of human life – and today, that meant the McDonald’s drive-thru. But Jules had just called, urging the pair to get down to this crime scene right away. Gus wanted to drop you back at the Psych office. Shawn did not.

“I will not be held responsible for smuggling a borrower into a crime scene!”

“Woah, Gus, watch your language. It’s offensive to say ‘borrower.’ I believe they prefer the term, ‘tiny person.’”

You shook your head when Gus gave you an exasperated look. “No, Shawn, that’s literally what I am.”

Gus tightened his grip on the wheel. “Shawn, please, if Lassie sees them–”

“Lassie will not see them,” Shawn asserted. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“Oh, now I’m real confident.”

“Shawn, really, I don’t have to come. I’ll be fine here.”

Shawn gave you a look like you had just cursed him out. “I can’t leave you in the car! That’s illegal!”

“It’s illegal for babies and dogs, Shawn, of which Jada is neither.”

You groaned. You had heard horror stories about Lassie – grumpy, mean, generally discontent with Shawn and Gus’s presence at most things. If you understood one thing about Shawn’s life, it’s that he didn’t know how to stay out of trouble, which felt like a disaster waiting to happen whenever you were with him. 

“It’ll be fine,” said Shawn, giving you a sympathetic enough look that you didn't immediately roll your eyes. “I’ll keep you in my hand and you can just peek through my fingers, like you're Jim Halpert.”

You shook your head. “No. No hand. It’s your front pocket or nothing.”

“What’s so wrong with my hand?” Shawn asked, sounding hurt. 

“You are sitting in it right now,” Gus pointed out. 

You sighed. “I dunno, I…” You realized you didn’t actually have to tell them the truth. “It… smells bad.”

Gus let out a laugh while Shawn tried his best to defend his odor, insisting that he showers every day and washes his hands even more often than that. But you wouldn’t relent, and he eventually agreed to stick you in his front pocket when you arrived.

“I still think it’s better if we just dropped you off back at Psych,” Gus said, eyeing you carefully. Shawn was pretending his hand was an elevator as he lifted you to his pocket. “A front pocket’s pretty exposed.”

You happened to agree with Gus on this one, which wasn’t very common, since Gus tended to worry about every single little thing you did. But there was no changing Shawn’s mind when it was made up. 

You hoisted yourself into his pocket. Shawn’s hand gave you a little boost as you pulled yourself up, resulting in you tumbling forward and flipping headfirst into the pocket. Embarrassed, you rubbed your head and tried to play it off.

“Whoops. You alright?” Shawn’s muffled voice came from above you. You just nodded, figuring if he was really a psychic, he would know you just did that. 

After what felt like forever, you finally felt the car come to a halt and the engine shut off. Gus turned to Shawn and made a face.

“How’s it look? Inconspicuous?” Shawn asked.

“It looks like you have a lump in your pocket.”

Shawn peered down, barely making out your sweaty face through the thin pocket opening. “How is it in there?”

You gave him a look of discontent. “Hot.”

Before anyone could reply, Jules was at the window, rapping her knuckles frantically on the glass. You could barely hear her yelling at the pair to get their asses out of the car. Shawn gave you a protective tap, as if he was checking to make sure you were still there, before climbing out.

You knew it would be suicide to peek your head out, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t morbidly curious as to what was going on. It was impossible to understand all the criminal jargon these cops were tossing around.

Gus kept nervously glancing at Shawn’s pocket every time you shifted your weight, and Lassie probably wouldn't have paid any attention to it if Shawn didn’t have his hand hovering just below it. The detective raised his eyebrows, and Gus noticed, making up a silly excuse to drag Shawn to an adjacent room.

“I think Lassie’s onto us, Shawn,” he whispered harshly. “He keeps looking at your pocket.”

“Because you keep staring at it!” Shawn shot back. Without thinking, he plunged his hand into the pocket, causing you to squeal and push yourself back. You tried your best to avoid his fingers, but it was a futile effort. Once he found you, he pinched your waist and slowly pulled you out – despite your uncomfortable wriggling – and plopped you into his palm.

“I hate it when you do that,” you grumbled, swiping your hair out of your face. 

“Gus, I want you to get them out of here,” Shawn instructed, holding his hand out. “Take them outside, anywhere, I don’t care, just–”

“What are you two doing?”

Shawn and Gus yelped, almost a little too comically. Lassie had snuck up behind them. Before you could even register what was going on, Shawn curled his fingers over you and whipped his hand behind his back. He cringed when he felt you slam into his fingers. Your miniscule movements as you pushed yourself up and readjusted made his whole arm twitch. 

“What are you hiding behind your back?” 

“...no one – uh – nothing...”

Your eyes went wide. No, he did not just say that.

Gus smacked his forehead. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me, Shawn.” 

“What are you… just show me your damn hand, Spencer. Now.”

“I told you, this was a bad idea!”

“Can it, Guster,” Lassie snapped. “What could you possibly be hiding that you don’t want to show me?”

In Shawn’s hand, your panic had morphed into desperation. Logically, there was no getting out of this, but that didn’t stop your instincts from taking over. You yanked at Shawn’s fingers like they were prison bars, trying to pry them apart so you could leap to safety. You kicked and punched and yelled in frustration. 

Shawn, of course, felt every little impact, but stayed surprisingly still through the whole ordeal as the thoughts raced in his mind. Aside from taking off and running away – which was his top possibility until he noticed that Lassie was covering their only exit – there was no way out of this one.

Soon, that familiar sinking feeling was back in your stomach. You tried to stand up to gain more strength to escape, but there was no way you would ever be able to overmatch a human. Tears began to stream from your eyes out of frustration. You weren’t even a match for a human’s fingers. How pathetic was that? How could you even think it would be any different?

“No, no, Shawn, please, please don’t do this, please, please…” you begged to yourself, knowing it was useless. You hugged yourself and shut your eyes, trying to squeeze the nauseating feeling away.

Shawn and Gus exchanged a knowing glance before both sets of eyes fixated on the outstretched hand. Even Lassie, who was usually quick to reprimand these idiots, stayed quiet. He could feel that something was off.

“Alright, Lassie, just… just try not to freak out, alright? They’re a little skittish.”

“What the hell are you talking about? What is going… on.” Lassie’s demeanor completely changed the moment he laid eyes on you. His face, once contorted in anger, had now softened to a degree that Shawn and Gus had never seen.

Not that you would know. All you saw was the scrunched-up, confused and downright pissed off looking face of a giant taller than both Gus and Shawn, something you didn’t think was possible. His eyes were blown wide and his mouth hung agape, which was a mirror image of your own expression. You scooted back, and Lassie jumped a bit at the movement. Shawn could feel your trembles, and he didn’t like it.

“What the hell am I looking at, Spencer?”

“This? Well, um, this – them – they, they’re uh –”

“–they’re tiny,” Lassie finished, eyes still fixated on your shaking form. His mind was racing a million miles per hour. What were you? How did something like you exist? More importantly, what on earth were you doing with Shawn and Gus?

Shawn laughed nervously. When was the last time he was nervous? “Woah! They are? I hadn’t noticed!”

Lassie ignored Shawn’s joke and took a tentative step forward and leaned down to get a closer look. He didn’t miss the way your eyes grew even wider as you receded back. “What is it?” 

“That ‘it’ is a person,” Gus said, stepping closer. He would get between you and Lassie if he needed to. “With a name, emotions, thoughts and feelings, just like the rest of us.”

“Huh.” He blinked a few times. “So it – they – can understand us?”

“Don’t be silly, Lassie,” Shawn chided. He was actually getting angry at him. “Think of them as a human being, just… pocket-sized.”

Your quivers only grew stronger the more Lassie maintained eye contact with you. You were gripping onto Shawn’s skin for dear life, so tense that stars started popping in and out of your vision. You felt pinned down underneath three human gazes, all staring at you in fascination and worry. You hadn’t felt this vulnerable since the day Shawn discovered you.

“Where did you find them? Here?”

Shawn shook his head. “I found them at Psych. You know, with my awesome psychic powers and all.”

“And how long ago was that?”

“I dunno,” Shawn shrugged. “A month, maybe two.”

There was a cool silence until Lassie remembered he was supposed to be mad. “What the hell are you doing bringing them to an active crime scene?!” 

You shivered back at the sheer volume of his voice, and the overwhelming sound was enough to get the tears flowing again. Shit. He was pissed. You were really in trouble now.

“Hey! Don’t yell,” Shawn cried. He knew how much you hated when voices were raised. “In our defense, they were in the car with us when Jules demanded we get down here. Ruined a perfectly good trip to Mickey D's.”

“For the record, I didn’t want them coming here,” Gus interjected.

“Why didn’t you just leave them in the car? You really thought bringing them inside was a good idea, with a bunch of cops crawling around?!” Lassie pinched his brow. “Damn it, Spencer.”

Shawn glanced down at you as soon as he felt a miniscule splash of water on his palm, a protective rage bubbling up inside. He hadn’t seen you this upset since he had found you, and it just about killed him to see you like that. “Just, calm down Lassie, alright? You’re freaking them out.”

“Don’t tell me to be calm! You – you brought some, some unauthorized being into a classified location and tried to hide it from me! You’re lucky nobody else saw them! I –”

Lassie locked eyes with you again, and he stopped. Shawn was right – you were freaked out. By him. Even from all the way up here, he could see your heavy breathing and pale face. He wanted to reprimand Shawn and Gus for this, but he felt a pang of guilt each time he looked at you. This wasn’t your fault, and him getting angry was clearly a very scary sight.

“You said they had a name?” Lassie said all of a sudden, voice back to a normal decibel level. Shawn and Gus nodded. “What is it?”

“Why don’t you ask them yourself?”

Slowly, the giant detective turned back to you. You couldn’t quite read his expression – he was mad, for sure, but he was also… curious. Intrigued. You leaned back as he once again bent down, this time farther to be at eye level with you.

“Um… hi there,” he said awkwardly, causing Shawn to snicker. Lassie shot him a look, but didn’t say anything. “What’s, uh, your name?”

You looked at him in utter shock, too scared to say anything. Lassie looked expectantly, but frowned when you didn’t respond. “I thought you said they could understand me.”

“They can!” Shawn protested.

“You obviously just scared the living crap out of them,” Gus added angrily.

Lassie hummed. He could tell you were frightened, but to the point where you couldn’t even speak? He felt awful.

“Look, I, uh, I’m sorry I scared you,” Lassie said sheepishly, surprising you. “I just didn’t expect to meet a tiny person today. Or, well, ever…” He trailed off, unsure of what he could say that would make you feel better. This was uncharted territory, even for him, but it was also fascinating. Shawn and Gus have had this tiny person with them for months. He had to know more.

“You two need to get them out of here. I don’t want to risk anyone else seeing this poor thing, alright?” The pair of friends were taken aback by the concern in Lassie’s voice. “We can talk more back at the station.”

“The station? I thought you said you didn’t want anyone seeing them,” Gus questioned.

Lassie raised his eyebrow. “Don’t think I’m letting you off the hook for this one, Guster. Besides, I have a million things I want to ask them, and this isn’t the place.” You gawked as Lassie stretched back up to his full height, which was still mind-numbingly tall. Lassie shivered when he looked back at you – you were so small in Shawn’s stupid hand.

“I know I must look scary, but don’t worry about me, alright? It’s these two idiots that should scare you.” You sniffed a surprising laugh at his bluntness. “You can always tell me if they’re causing you any trouble.”

Shawn and Gus were too stunned to speak as their boss left the room. Lassie was being gentle with you? Never in a million years would they have expected that reaction.

Shawn broke the silence. “Well, that was weird.”

Gus nodded in agreement. “I am deeply disturbed.”

“Jada? Are you alright?” Shawn asked, cupping you close to his chest. Truthfully, you didn’t quite know the answer. You were expecting the worst in this situation – being picked up, poked, prodded. But Lassie didn’t do any of that. He didn’t even try to touch you. He was… respectful, for the most part, and kind. He was speaking to you like a real person. He seemed to really care.

You turned back to the doorway, peering past Shawn to watch Lassie conferring with all the different people in the other room. Knowing these two, you understood why Lassie might be averse to them, but you couldn’t help but feel strangely calm after your short meeting. There was something about him that left you wanting to know more.

“Yeah, Shawn,” you said after a moment. Your voice was as calm as it’s ever been. “I think I’ll be alright.”

#i went back and forth like 20 times as to how i wanted to do this #settled on this just so i could post something lol #trying my best here alright #you also did not ask for gus but it would be illegal for him not to be in this #obwrites #g/t #giant/tiny #giant tiny #psych #psych g/t #asks

[pepperpixel]

More powerpunk girls!!! This time ft some art figuring out brutes design. And a big group picture!! That I’m rlly proud of!

#powerpuff girls #ppg #powerpunk girls #the powerpuff girls #ppnkg #ppg brute #ppg berserk #ppg brat #doodles #i basically just used the same design for brat I used last time I drew her in the group pic #but.. I might change that up a lil in the future.. idk. I feel like it could be better #the last time I posted a sketch of brute was a million years ago. and it was next to a sketch of buttercup #and someone who reblogged it in the tags was like ‘aaa my daughter going thru her emo phase!’ #and it’s like I think they thought they both were buttercup.. which is understandable lol. #but no!!! buttercup is a jock!!!! brute is the emo one!!! #and it’s not a phase!!!! she’s going to be covered in fishnets leather and spikes till she dies. it’s a LIFESTYLE. shes COMMITTED #and. she’s actually more punk then emo but ghghg either way!!! either way.. #I’m actuslly SO happy w the design I settled on for her! like I knew I wanted to make changes to her og design #cuz like.. I’ve always felt her outfit was a lil weird ghgh. I just wanted to make changes to it #but every time I’ve tried to figure out a design for her in the past I could never find something I liked #but I did it!!! I did it this time! I LOVE this design for her!!! #like. idk!!! idk how I finally did it but I did and I’m so happy w it! she looks so cool!!! #in drawing the powerpunks recently I’ve been having so many more ideas for my ‘powerpuff girls as highschoolers’ au. #SO many ideas…. like holy shit.. mostly. about the powerpunk girls. cuz they’re cool!! #so yeah… hopefully my hands will continue wanting to draw more ppg art ghghgh #cuz it’s fun! and I’m having ideas for it! so. it’d be cool to be able to draw them ghgh

[readymades2002]

something difficult about writing/storytelling but only in short disconnected bursts is that writing anything longform is very difficult. there isn't as much time to practice long-term character development or subtlety (implying character instead of immediately clarifying) when its not really meant to go anywhere but a notes app. its a little frustrating...i'd love to do something more longform though. i've considered maybe just doing some short writing scenes in my various original universes a lot recently mostly because i just havent had time to draw anything fancy recently </3 maybe that would be something...

#briefly talked about it with a coworker today bc i mentioned my brother makes music #and she got excited because she paints and she showed me some of her work (beautiful btw!!!) #and said she hopes he pursues music and doesnt get his heart crushed by retail like we do #we still make things but ive been thinking about it...it really is like #i feel like ive had less TIME to make things but ive also developed more interest in my own ideas #and in constructing them on their own terms. its hard to describe and even harder to share because its #not churning out fanart for a response i guess? #i dont know. i do feel more satisfied with what im planning but theres less to share #anyway i promised her i'd show her my art sometime so essentially i have to flee the country now #she does lovely work she paints pictures of pets and it seems so nice. she seems so happy with it! #its like...i love it. im a little jealous of it. i feel so much pressure to Do Something New with my art #try to craft scenes and settings (i think setting is such ann important part of storytelling but i have so much trouble drawing it!) #and try new compositions and poses and just not have everything look the same all the time #its led to a lot of work im proud of but its also hard to create under those expectations... #i wish i could find a niche and settle into it comfortably. i think fun character drawings could be that for me #but its...it frustrates me to post those because it feels like if its easy and i like doing it and how it turns out then im not trying #okay i think im done now. sorry for these rambling introspective posts lately lol im #trying to warm back up to posting so i can use this website again (despite how very very bad it is)... #i want to see my frieeeeeends <//////3 i want to be here without running away <///3

[candy69gurl]

PERIOD PAIN HEALER !!

PAIRING Step dad!Gojo Satoru x f!reader, Step dad!Toji Fushiguro x f!reader, Step dad!Nanami Kento x f!reader, Step dad!Geto Suguru x f!reader, Step dad!Sukuna x f!reader, Step dad!Shiu Kong x f!reader, Step dad!Hiromi Higuruma x f!reader, Step dad!Kamo Choso x f!reader [seperate]

SYNOPSIS It's understandable that the month's arrival brings with it a series of unpleasant sensations and discomfort that nobody enjoys experiencing. However, things aren't so unpleasant when you have someone to support you through this time, such as your caring stepdad, who is more than willing to assist you in any way possible..

WARNING stepcest, pre-established relationship, comfort, nipple sucking & playing, orgasm through nipple playing, bloody pussy eating, use of four arms for pleasure (sukuna), cock warming, p in bloody v, fingering, use of bad nicknames (geto), clit rubbing, soft sex, clit rubbing with cock

NOTE In my experience, having an orgasm during your period reduces cramps. I wrote it while on my periods lol. I'm just a girl (with daddy issues) ... Some people may find the contents unpleasant. Simply block and move on; please do not make disparaging remarks about me or report my post; if you do, prepare to get trolled by my moots. Please read the warnings and do not do this at home (duh). Reposting cause tumblr removed it.

◈ SATORU GOJO

Gojo's eyes widen as he catches the sight of you clad in one of his oversized T-shirts, your small frame barely managing to contain its folds. You look like a lost little rabbit, shivering slightly, bouncing on your toes as you pace nervously near the bathroom door.

"Hey, hey," Gojo murmurs, brows furrowing as he takes in the sight before stepping closer. His thumb brushes lightly across your cheek, coaxing you to meet his gaze. "What's goin' on, sweetheart?"

His voice is soft, comforting - a stark contrast to his usual cockiness. You look up at him, your eyes filled with uncertainty, and he feels a pang in his chest. Something's clearly off, and he knows he needs to get to the bottom of it.

"Are you alright?" he presses gently, concern coloring his voice as he reaches for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. The gentle pressure of his fingers seems to calm you somewhat, and you nod, averting your gaze.

"Yes...", you mumble, but it sounds more like an excuse than the truth.

He tilts your chin upward, "Don't lie to daddy," he whispers softly, searching your eyes for any hint of distress. There's a tenderness in his voice that surprises you both - unusual for the usually arrogant man. Swallowing hard, he adds, "Tell me what's wrong."

Despite yourself, you find yourself opening up, the words spilling forth: "It's just... uh... cramps, and I feel uneasy."

He kneels on his knees, lifting up your top and leaning in to kiss your vulnerable tummy before softly massaging the area. The touch is firm yet soothing, causing you to relax slightly despite the lingering pain.

"That's better, isn't it?" he remarks, a hint of warmth creeping into his voice. You nod syly not breaking eye contact with him. Gojo's expression softens, and he pulls you into a warm embrace. "Ah, I see.. That feels good.. ," he says, rubbing your back soothingly. "Don't worry about it. Let's take care of you, okay?"

As he gently leads you to your room, Gojo's mind races with ways he can help ease your discomfort. He doesn't want you to suffer, not when he could do something about it.

Once settled on the soft cushions, he slowly slides his hands up and down your abdomen, his other hand cupping one of your breast gently in his large palms. You gasp slightly at the sensation, the nipple tingling under his skilled touch. Gently, he rolls it between his thumbs and forefingers, eliciting a moan from deep within you. This causes him to smirk devilishly and lean in closer.

His warm breath caresses your chest as he whispers, "They hurt too, don't they?"

"Y-yes, a bit," you confess shyly.

His smile broadens, and without further ado, he bends his head down and captures one of your nipples in his mouth. A jolt of pleasure shoots through you as he sucks lightly, increasing the pressure gradually, making you squirm involuntarily. His other hand moves from your abdomen to massage the other breast, his thumb occasionally flicking against the engorged nub.

The sensation is uncomfortable and pleasurable simultaneously, bringing forth an array of mixed feelings within you. He lifts his head briefly, looking into your flushed face with a knowing smile. "This should help alleviate some of the discomfort, my dear. Just let go and enjoy it." He returns to his task, sucking harder on your nipple while tweaking the other, sending waves of sensation cascading through your body.

You can't help but give in to the intense feelings coursing through you, your back arching slightly as he continues his ministrations. Your breathing becomes ragged, and you grip the sheets beneath you, trying to stay grounded in reality.

You find yourself reaching climax unexpectedly, your entire body trembling under his touch. "D-daddy cumming," your lips move to form an involuntary moan, and he looks up, satisfaction written across his features.

He releases your nipple, running his thumb over your mouth before pulling you closer. His voice is velvety smooth as he murmurs, "You came just by me sucking your nipples? Guess you are really sensitive now"

With a satisfied hum, he pulls away, drawing you into his embrace. His arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you close to his chest. "There you go," he mutters, rubbing soothing circles on your stomach as you lean into him. The rhythmic motion quickly lulls you into a sense of comfort, easing the last of your tension.

"Feeling good now?" he asks his crystalline blue eyes turning soft only for you. You nod shyly, closing your eyes momentarily, your heartbeat decreasing.

"Get some rest now, sweetheart. When you wake up, the discomfort will be gone. I'll make sure to stock up on those chocolate candies you love, kikufuku or something similar. That should help cheer you up, yeah?" He speaks into your hair, his voice low and soothing. "And remember, I'm always here for you, no matter what."

Slowly, your eyelids grow heavy, and soon enough, sleep claims you. In his arms, you drift off to dreamland, cradled by his warmth and strength. He watches over you until you're peacefully asleep, then rises from the bed with a content smile, leaving you undisturbed.

◈ TOJI FUSHIGURO

As the pangs begin, you find yourself in agony, groaning softly and clutching your lower abdomen tightly, the whole day you are in your room, you even missed dinner. Suddenly, you hear footsteps to your room, you look up to see your stepdad, Toji, walking into your room with a concerned expression on his face. "What's wrong? Tired of being a brat?" he asks, moving closer to you.

"My period started," you mumble, unable to hide the pain from your voice. "It's so sudden and painful."

Toji, raises an eyebrow in surprise before responding gruffly, "Why do ya always whine about these little things? It happens to everyone! Get over it!" He waves dismissively, leaving you feeling hurt and ignored. Your heart sinks as tears start to form in your eyes, "Don't cry now, I swear I can't tolerate ya's mood swings during these days," he observes you closely for a moment, noticing the genuine distress in your eyes.

After witnessing your pain and tears, Toji's cold exterior crumbles slightly, replaced by tenderness and guilt. Though he is annoyed by how weak and whiny you are, he can't bear to watch his little step daughter suffering. Gently, he props onto your bed, the bed jumping slightly with his weight, as he pulls you close to him, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. He starts to rub your stomach in soft, slow circles, attempting to alleviate some of the pain.

"Sorry," his voice husky with regret, "I didn't mean to be harsh. Let me make it up to you." His hand gradually moves from your stomach to your neck, his thumb gently tracing circles on your tender skin. The sensation mixes with the pressure of his touch, bringing a sense of comfort and relaxation that slowly takes over your body.

"Just close your eyes and rest," he whispers in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "Let me take care of you." As if in a trance, you obey his instructions, allowing his words and touch to lull you into a state of calmness. His hands continue their gentle rhythm, kneading your stomach and caressing your neck, his lips occasionally brushing softly against your cheek.

As you drift off to sleep in Toji's caring embrace, you find solace in his presence and the gentle caresses that soothe your body. The tension in your muscles slowly dissipates, and eventually, exhaustion claims you. Time passes unnoticed as you both rest, your breathing deepening and evening out into peaceful slumber.

However, as night falls, your cramps return with a vengeance, waking you up from your peaceful slumber with a gasp. You wriggle uncomfortably, your hands instinctively clutching your stomach as pain courses through you. Your eyes flutter open to find Toji also awake, concern etched upon his features. He watches you intently, his own face contorted with worry as he observes your discomfort.

He repeats this motion multiple times, his tongue tracing intricate patterns across your sensitive skin, each movement accompanied by soft, reassuring whispers. His hands reach for yours, pulling them away gently from your stomach. "Shh, don't worry," he murmurs, concern evident in his voice. "I know it hurts, but we don't have any heating pads or medication here. What if I try something else?" He looks at you expectantly, a glint of determination in his eyes.

You nod hesitantly, unsure of what else could possibly help. Slowly, he shifts his position, leaning closer to you. His gaze locks onto your stomach, his expression intense as he focuses on the task at hand. Then, without warning, Toji presses his lips to your stomach, the warmth of his breath sending waves of relief throughout your tense muscles. His tongue darts out, lightly flicking at your skin, causing a shiver to race down your spine. Surprised, you let out a small moan, your body reacting to his unexpected touch.

You get caught off guard by Toji's sudden move, you let out a soft squeak as he swiftly removes your shorts and panties. Embarrassment washes over you, but his determined gaze leaves no room for protest. He glances at your blood-covered pad, a hint of curiosity in his green eyes, as if studying the sight for the first time.

Before you can recover from the shock of his actions, he holds you firmly but gently in place, his hands strong on your hips, pinning you to the bed.

"Please...don't do anything.. It's weird," you stammer, your eyes wide with surprise and embarrassment, but there's a hint of desire there too - this wasn't exactly an unwelcome sensation.

"Shhh," he hushes you, his voice rough with desire. "This might help, trust me." And with that, he lowers his head, his mouth approaching your bloody core.

As soon as his mouth touches you, the sensation is overwhelming. The warmth of his lips combined with the wet heat of his tongue sends shivers down your spine. His movements are neither tentative nor shy, rather they're hungry and bold, as if he's been waiting for this moment for a long time.

Blood colors his lips and chin as he continues to feast on you. Despite the circumstances, a strange mixture of pleasure and embarrassment fills you.

"It feels so...weird but good," you confess, biting your lip as pleasurable shivers rack your body.

Toji lifts his head, his gaze locked on yours, "Good?" he queries, his voice thick with lust. His eyes reflect a primal satisfaction that overwhelms any semblance of shame or guilt. Your response seems to ignite something within him, and he dives back in with renewed vigor, his tongue delving deeper, his hunger growing stronger. The scent of your blood mingled with your natural arousal fills the air, heightening the intensity of the experience.

With Toji's relentless attention, it doesn't take long for you to reach your climax. Your body arches involuntarily, a gasp escaping your lips as waves of pleasure crash over you. He feels it too, the tremors beneath him signaling your release. His tongue never stops its steady pace, guiding you through the peak of your ecstasy until you finally collapse back onto the bed, panting heavily.

Toji pulls away with a satisfied hum, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand before looking up at you with half-lidded eyes. "That should help the cramps," he states, a smug grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

But instead of leaving, he crawls up alongside you, pulling you into another tight embrace. "Rest now, kay?," he whispers, nuzzling your neck as he speaks. "We'll deal with anything else tomorrow."

Despite the unusual circumstances, you find comfort in his arms once again. His chest rises and falls steadily next to yours, his heartbeat a calming rhythm that lulls you back into slumber. The night stretches ahead, quiet and peaceful, with nothing but the two of you sharing the same space.

◈ NANAMI KENTO

As the door creaks open, you know right away it's Nanami stepping in. The scent of his cologne wafts towards you, signaling his arrival. You glance up from the couch and look towards the hallway, anticipating his arrival.

"Hey, honey," he greets softly, voice carrying a hint of weariness. "How are you doing?"

You give him a weak smile, trying to hide the pain you feel from your period. "Just dealing with some cramps, dad," you reply, trying to sound as casual as possible. "No big deal."

He nods, offering you a sympathetic look as he walks closer, then removes his jacket & glasses and places his work bag on the coffee table. "Well, let's see if there's anything I can do to help you out," he says, reaching out to gently brush your hair aside.

"Oh, don't worry about me, dad," you assure him quickly, attempting to put on a brave face despite the discomfort. "It's not that bad. But thank you for asking."

Nanami raises an eyebrow at you, studying your expression carefully. "Don't try to lie to me, sweetheart, I can see your toes curling from the pain" he says gently. "I understand how painful these periods can be. Here, come. Let me help you, okay?", he says gesturing you on his lap.

You hesitate for a moment, feeling embarrassed about showing your weakness in front of him. However, Nanami's concern is evident in his eyes and you can't resist the urge to lean into his comforting embrace. As you sit on his lap, he wraps his arms around you tightly, providing you with warmth and support.

"There you go," he murmurs softly, rubbing your back in circular motions. "Do you want some painkillers? Maybe a hot pad? Or anything that will lessen your pain?" he offers.

Your body responds instinctively to his touch, moving closer to him unconsciously. You feel yourself grinding against him slightly and gasp, realizing what you've done. Your cheeks flush red with embarrassment, but Nanami remains composed.

"Easy now," he says quietly, placing his hand on your hips to steady both of you. "We'll take care of this quickly, okay?"

Feeling guilty for making him hard, you reach for his pants, running your fingers along the outline of his erection through the fabric. It's hard and warm beneath your touch and you pause before slowly stroking it.

"Will you feel good, if it's in you?", he asks; he is genuinely concerned about your well being more than his own.

You swallow hard, feeling the heat rise to your face once again."Yes, please... I think it would help," you admit shyly.

Nanami looks at you thoughtfully for a moment before nodding slowly. "Alright, then," he says decisively, lifting you up, freeing his member.

Nanami's thumb pushes aside your panties, his other hand positions his shaft at your entrance. He slowly slips into your bloodied cunt, the crimson fluid and your arousal making it easier for him to slide through your gummy walls. You gasp softly at the sensation, your eyes fluttering closed as he stretches your insides.

For a few moments, neither of you moves; his hands resting firmly on your waist, his breath warm on your neck. Then, your hips begin to buck involuntarily against him, seeking deeper penetration. The combination of pain and pleasure sends shivers down your spine.

Your red fluids seeps into his tan-coloured trousers, making them brown. But that's not his concern now. "That's it," Nanami murmurs approvingly, adjusting his grip on your hip as you move. "Let it out, baby girl. Let everything out."

Slowly, he begins to thrust into you, setting a rhythm that matches your movements. His hands roam across your body, finding your nipples and rubbing them lightly. The pleasure intensifies, culminating in soft moans escaping from your lips.

As Nanami's thrusts become more forceful, so does your breathing. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through you and soon enough, you feel the edge of release drawing near.

"Daddy.. A-ah.." You whisper hoarsely, gripping onto him tightly as your orgasm builds up. You're on the verge of losing control, feeling every nerve ending ignite.

A final powerful thrust sends you over the edge, your body trembling and you arching into him. A cry escapes your lips, muffled against his shoulder as you let it all out - all the pent-up frustration, discomfort, and desire colliding together in an intense climax.

Nanami holds you close, riding out your orgasm until the last ripple subsides. Once you're stable, he pulls out his blood-coated shaft slowly, leaving you slightly empty but content.

"There you go," he whispers reassuringly as you leans onto his chest. "That should help ease the cramps."

You lean into him, panting heavily as your mind starts to clear. The tension from the day dissolves away, replaced by a sense of satisfaction.

"Thank you, Daddy," you murmur gratefully, your voice shaky yet sincere.

Nanami smiles gently, kissing your temple. "Anything for my little girl," he promises softly.

◈ GETO SUGURU

Your stepfather, Suguru, has always been distant but kind when necessary, and you knew that he will help you with this matter as well. He takes care of all your needs, giving you various stuffs to help you go through your periods. Despite your gratitude, the fact remains that he despises non-sorcerers.

“You should be grateful I take care of such filth. Monkeys are disgusting creatures", he says while rubbing your back gently.

"Sorry for being a burden..", you reply, your eyes getting teary once again.

His face softens slightly as he continues comforting you, trying to make sure you feel better despite his true thoughts about you,

“Don’t worry about being a burden. It’s my duty to take care of you too, after all. Now focus on feeling better, monkey.”

"S'top being mean...", you speak nuzzling your head against his chest.

Surprised by your sudden reaction, he quickly puts aside his arrogance and focuses entirely on relieving your pain. A smile forms on his lips, albeit reluctantly, as he pats your head gently, secretly enjoying the momentary affection. “I’m not being mean, child. Just stating the truth. But since you asked nicely, I’ll stop for now.”

You relax in his embrace, yet flinch occasionally when cramps pain you. Gently rubbing your lower abdomen in a circular motion, he asks, “Are you okay? This shouldn’t hurt this much.”

As he continues his ministrations, his hands accidentally brush against your clit, causing a shiver to run through your body, you bite your lip trying to stop an incoming moan. Noticing this, he hesitates for a second, but then decides to continue, figuring that it might provide some relief. “Just let me help you here…” he murmurs softly

Cautiously, he reaches down and begins removing your underwear, making sure not to aggravate your delicate area further. Once it's off, he gently massages your exposed bud.

“This should help ease your discomfort,” he whispers reassuringly, his fingers lingering on your most sensitive spots.

"P-please, your hands are getting dirty..", your hands moving to stop his. He chuckles dryly at your protest, his expression darkening slightly as he maintains his touch.

“Believe me, I’ve dealt with far worse than this. Now try to relax, monkey.” with that, he continues stroking you, occasionally brushing against your entrance as well.

You gasp softly, trying to contain your growing arousal. The contradiction between his harsh words and gentle touch creates a strange mix of emotions within you.

“Please, don't call me that," you plead, your voice barely audible.

He stops abruptly, his gaze hardening as he meets yours. “There’s nothing wrong with the truth. Now, monkey focus on breathing and letting go of this pain.”

Without warning, he slides two fingers inside you, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from you. His eyes lock onto yours, watching your reactions intently as he starts moving them rhythmically.

“This might be uncomfortable at first, but it will help more than you think.”

Despite your embarrassment, the sensation is unlike anything you’ve experienced before. His skilled fingers create waves of pleasure mixed with pain. You squirm beneath his touch, unsure how to react to your conflicting emotions.

He watches your reactions carefully, his eyes filled with a mixture of satisfaction. "Good girl. Relax and enjoy it. This will make you feel better."

His rhythmic thrusts start to increase, matching the intensity of your growing arousal. You can't help but moan softly, your body responding to his touch despite your reservations.

"That's right. Let it out," he encourages, his voice lowers into a growl, his eyes narrowing slightly as he feels your walls tighten around his digits.

“Feel free to make noise, monkey. You need this release” The deeper he plunges, the stronger your reactions become. Your breath hitches, and you can't help but wrap your legs around his wrist, pulling him closer.

He grins wickedly, twisting his fingers inside you ever so slightly as he continues thrusting. His fingers dance in a way that brings an unusual sense of ecstasy and discomfort simultaneously.

Despite his choice of words, there’s something strangely comforting about his dominance. You find yourself lost in the sensations, your protests fading away until all that remains is the rhythmic movement of his fingers and the occasional muffled moan escaping your lips.

Ignoring the sight of his fingers coated with your crimson fluid everytime he moves out of you, he intensifies his movements, focusing on your pleasure rather than the messiness. Despite his usual contempt, his interest seems to peak with every drop of blood coating his fingers.

“Such a good girl. Love you sweetheart.. Let it all out.” His deep voice echoes in your ears like a chant, urging you to give in to the sensations. As your climax draws near, his words resonate louder in your mind, guiding you towards the peak.

The orgasm hits you like a wave, overwhelming your senses as he skillfully drives you to the edge. Your body trembles beneath him, your nails digging into whatever they could find purchase in, and you cry out.

His expression turns feral as you reach your high, a hint of triumph glimmering in his eyes. When your orgasm subsides, he pulls his fingers out slowly, licking them clean.

Your eyes and mouth, both widen at his action.

"Still feeling pain?", he asks, his demeanor chaning back to normal.

You take deep breaths, trying to regain your composure. Despite the lingering discomfort, there's a newfound sense of warmth within you, thanks to his touch.

“N-no not anymore... Thank you, daddy”, you thank him, your hands reaching for his, attempting to intertwine your fingers with his..

His eyes meet yours, a flicker of surprise passing through them before he smirks. “Of course, my little monkey. After all, it's my responsibility to take care of you too, isn't?", He pinches your cheek, and you nod, tilting back your head to rest.

◈ RYOMEN SUKUNA

Ryomen enters the room, his usual stoic expression barely shifting as he takes in the sight of you, holding your stomach from the cramps. "Uraume," he growls, gesturing towards the you. "Assist her." Turning his gaze back to you, he studies you for a moment before speaking again. "Your monthly curse approaches, huh? I suppose it can't be helped. Uraume will help you with the pain. Stay still, and try not to-"

"P-please.. I need you", you protest, wanting to be comforted only by him.

"Hmm, I see" Sukuna raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the request. He slowly moves closer, examining your face before pulling you close to him gently.

With a sigh, he concedes. "Very well, your pleading is... entertaining. Lie down, and we shall see if I can ease your suffering."

He helps you onto the soft tatami mat, gently placing a pillow underneath your head. He reaches out to untie your obi, revealing your delicate undergarments. Carefully, he lifts them aside and lowers his head towards you then begins to lick and nibble at your flesh, blood droplets landing on his tonue.

"S-stop i-its dirty!", you protest, try to push his massive head away from your core.

He grins devilishly, his eyes gleaming in delight as he grasps your legs firmly with his two powerful arms. While his third hand expertly kneads your breast, his 'mouth' forms from the fourth one, closing over your nipple possessively. He sucks gently, causing your body to arch involuntarily.

"Hmph, you taste delicious. Just like ripe fruit..." He hums, his breath hitting your core. You feel yourself becoming flushed, his actions both embarrassing yet exhilarating. Despite your protests, you can't deny the pleasure coursing through you.

As his lips trace delicately across your skin, you begin to feel a warm sensation building within you. Your breathing becomes ragged, and your hips buck subconsciously. Slowly, his skilled hands and mouth bring you closer and closer to the edge. Finally, you let out a muffled cry, your release washing over you.

Once you've caught your breath, he pulls away, satisfaction radiating from his gaze. "There, much better. Your monthly pain curse should subside now." He smirks, wiping his mouth clean before standing up. "You may rest, dear. Remember, I am here to assist you whenever you need, even with such trivial matters."

With a final glance at your flushed face, Ryomen licks his lips slowly, his eyes lingering on your twitching body for just a moment longer. Then, to your astonishment, he leans in and presses his lips against your stomach.

"Goodnight, my dear." He says, disappearing into the shadows with a soft rustling of robes, leaving only the faintest.

◈ SHIU KONG

"Hey there, kiddo," he asks softly, setting down his cigarette on the table. "How are you feelin' today?" He knows your cycle started yesterday and he just wanna make sure you're alright. "Need anything from me? Want some ice cream?" he suggests with a crooked smile, trying to lighten the mood.

"N-NO", you nearly yell at him but soon realise you shouldn't have; your mood swings are getting the best of you.

"Alright, alright." He chuckles, raising his hands defensively. "I wasn't gonna force you to eat ice cream if you don't want to.. Just making an offer."

He stands up, crossing the room to sit next to you. His large hand gently rests on your shoulder. "Just let me know if you need anything, okay?" His eyes widen at the sudden appearance of tears, concern filling his face. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to his chest.

"What's goin' on, huh? What's got you all upset?" He strokes your hair gently, trying to offer comfort. "You know you can tell me anything, right? I won't judge you."

The warmth of his embrace seeps into your bones, "Just cramps..", you reply, your voice slightly shaken by your emotions.

"Ah, that's rough," he says, nodding understandingly. "Let me grab you some painkillers, then. And maybe a heating pad to help ease those cramps."

As he gets up, he adds, "Try to relax, alright? We'll get through this together."

The way he says 'we' makes your heart skip a beat, but you push the thought away, focusing on the relief of his words.

"C-can you just stay here and", you pull his hand and direct it around your abdomen where it aches, "please massage it?"

Surprised, Shiu looks down at your hands, then back into your eyes. "Of course," he murmurs, resting one hand on your tummy and the other on your thigh. His fingers press gently, moving in slow circles. "Is this okay?"

His palm warms against your skin, alleviating some tension. You let out a shaky groan, giving in to his touch and allowing him to make you feel better.

He swallows hard, adjusting his grip, pressing deeper into your abdomen. The heat from his hand spreads, easing some of the pain.

"Better?" he whispers, concern etched onto his face. "Don't worry," he continues, glancing away nervously. "I've dealt with enough curse users in my career to handle a little cramping."

As his hands move rhythmically across your stomach, his eyes catch yours, lingering for just a moment too long. They try to ignore the electric charge between them.

"Yes..." you answer breathlessly, closing your eyes. "That feels good..." Your body responds to his touch, and you can't help but wish it would last forever.

Shiu shifts his patterns, from rubbing your abdomen to sliding through your shorts to rub against your clad clit. You are too absorbed in pleasure to notice his hand slipping through your shorts. When you come back to your senses, your eyes follow the movement of his hands.

"I said I'd help with the cramps, not..." he trails off, glancing away sheepishly. "Sorry, didn't mean to get carried away", tries to take his hands off you, when you stop him.

"N-no daddy, feels good", you speak timidly, not making eye contact with him.

He freezes for a second, his eyes widening. He chuckles, though it sounds shaky. "Guess you got a bit carried away too, huh?" With a smirk, he resumes his massage, adjusting his hand to provide more pressure to your clit. He leans closer, his free hand coming to cup your cheek.

"You alright?" he asks, concern coloring his voice. "This isn't making things worse, right?" You shake your head, still avoiding his glances. "Well, well," he chuckles, his fingers continuing their dance. "Seems like someone's enjoying this more than they should."

He rubs his thumb agains your lips. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna do anything you don't want. Just trying to make you feel better."

His touch grows bolder, his hand removing your shorts and panties to rub your clit bare. Your body flinches on direct contact.

His hand pauses, his eyes meeting yours. The look in his eyes is a mix of surprise and exhilaration. "Shall I continue?" he asks, concern filling his tone.

"Yes... yes please," you whisper, blushing furiously.

His eyebrows raise, but he nods slowly. "Okay, just let me know if it's too much, alr?" His fingers resume their movement, rubbing your swollen clit with renewed vigor. You moan softly, leaning into his touch.

He takes advantage of your vulnerability, his other hand sneaking under your shirt to caress your breast. His fingers brush against your nipple, and you gasp, arching into his touch. A shiver runs down your spine, your thighs parting naturally to accommodate his hand.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" he whispers, his hand moves downwards, exploring your stomach, hips, and thighs.

Then, you finally cry out, your legs trembling as an orgasm rips through you, more crimson fluid oozing from within you. Shiu freezes, his eyes wide, "Whoa, whoa, easy there, kiddo," he mutters.

He stops his ministrations, allowing you to recover from your climax. When you finally regain control, he lets out a quiet laugh. "Didn't expect that," he admits, shaking his head slightly. "But hey, if it feels good, then I guess I did a good job"

"Y-yes felt good.. T-thanks dad..", you admit swallowing hard.

"I'm glad, really," he replies, his hands returning to your stomach. His eyes finally meeting yours again.

"But you know," he says hesitantly. "If you ever need a hand... helping you out, you can count on me, right girl?" He smiles, cupping your jaw. "Just remember that."

◈ HIGURUMA HIROMI

Upon returning from work, Hiromi notices his little girl curled up in bed, clutching her abdomen in obvious discomfort. Immediately, concern fills his usually stoic expression. He gently approaches you and examines your face, trying to gauge the severity of your pain.

"Darling," he whispers softly, trying not to startle you. "Are you unwell?" His hand rests lightly on her forehead, feeling for any signs of fever.

You shift in your sleep whispering, "Period pain"

Hiromi's brow furrows with worry, realizing what might be causing your discomfort. He reaches out to grab a pillow and gently places it under your knees to ease the pressure on your lower abdomen.

"I'm so sorry," he says, tenderly. "Didn't expect this to happen today. Let me make you something warm and comforting to help ease the pain."

He stands up to leave for kitchen when you stop him by his hands. "P-please you don't need to do anything.."

He looks down at you, his heart aching for the discomfort you must be experiencing. He understands your desire to handle things independently, but as your stepdad, he feels responsible for taking care of you.

"No matter how grown-up you try to be," Hiromi says softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from your forehead, "You're still my little girl, and I want to help you feel better." He kneels beside the bed again and takes your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Tell me what will make you feel better"

"You..", you reply instantly and involuntarily.

Hiromi looks at you confused by your request," Me?"

Words stuck in your throat as you swallow hard while speaking again, "inside me.."

Hiromi's eyes widen slightly at your unexpected words. He releases a quiet breath, trying to process what you are asking of him. There's a moment where confusion lingers in his gaze before understanding dawns upon him.

"I... I understand," he says in a measured tone. "But are you sure about this?"

His fingers trace gentle circles on the back of your hand, offering both comfort and support. "It's alright if you're uncomfortable discussing it. We can find another way to help with the pain."

You speak again slowly, not meeting his gaze. "Please.."

Hiromi swallows hard, a mix of emotions churning in his chest. Surprise, worry, and protectiveness all coalesce into a single determination. He knows he can't force himself onto you, no matter how much he wants to ease your pain. But he also recognizes your need for comfort and relief.

"Alright," he agrees quietly, rising from the bed to move to the foot of it. "Let's get you more comfortable first."

With utmost gentleness, Hiromi eases you onto your back, making sure you're lying flat and secure on the bed. He removes your remaining clothing, ensuring you're comfortable throughout the process. Once you're settled, his fingertips brush against your skin, eliciting a shiver from you.

"Sorry," he murmurs, his voice barely audible. "Just trying to make you as comfortable as possible."

He prepares himself, taking off his garments and discarding them on the floor, "Ready?" he asks quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

A tremulous nod is your response, your eyes locked with his. Hiromi smiles softly, reaching for your legs. He spreads them apart gently, his touch tender yet purposeful.

"We'll take this slowly," he promises, his thumbs brushing the inside of your thighs. Your thighs shake slightly, but he stops immediately. "If at any moment you feel pain or discomfort, please tell me, okay?"

You give a small nod, and he continues, his fingers tracing along your inner thighs before eventually finding their way to your core. A nervous flutter courses through you, but he remains patient and gentle.

"Just relax," he instructs as he directs himself between your legs.

Hiromi enters you slowly, taking his time to allow your body to adjust to his presence. He moves with careful precision, each thrust deliberate and unhurried. A deep sense of tenderness fills him as he looks into your eyes, gauging your reaction. Your breath hitches with each movement, but there's no sign of distress.

"How are you doing?" he asks softly, his pace matching the rhythm of your breathing.

"Good..so good.. It's so deep and it's.. a-ah", you flinch at his sudden and rough thrust.

Hiromi winces slightly at your discomfort, stopping instantly. "I'm sorry, darling. I didn't mean to cause you pain." He pulls out slowly, his expression full of concern.

"No, it's fine..." you breathe out. "Don't stop..."

He studies your face for a moment, making sure you're truly okay. When he sees your nod, he begins again, moving slower than before.

As his movements continue, his shaft becomes coated with your menstrual blood. Despite the unusual circumstance, Hiromi pushes those thoughts aside and focuses solely on providing comfort and relief. Each stroke is filled with tender care, designed to bring warmth and pleasure rather than discomfort.

Your eyes close, your body arching ever so slightly with each thrust. The room is filled with nothing but the sounds of your soft moans and his steady breaths.

As the minutes pass, Hiromi can feel your body responding to his touch, the subtle changes telling him you're nearing your climax. His own heart races, feeling a strange mixture of pride and protectiveness. All he desires is to provide you with comfort and release.

"That's it," he whispers, his tempo increasing ever so slightly. "Let go, darling. Let the pleasure wash away your pain."

Suddenly, your body tenses, a wave of ecstasy washing over you. Hiromi matches your intensity, his own breath catching in his throat as he feels your muscles clench around him. With one final surge, he follows you over the edge, your bodies moving in perfect sync.

As your orgasm subsides, Hiromo collapses onto your chest, his heart pounding heavily against yours. He kisses your forehead softly, his breath ragged. "There you go," he murmurs.

"Thank you for trusting me," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "I hope this helped alleviate your pain."

You look up at him, a grateful smile gracing your lips. "Thank you, it does not pain anymore"

Smile washes over Hiromi's face as he realizes his actions have indeed brought you relief. He pulls out slowly, carefully cleaning up afterwards. Once done, he helps you get cleaned and comfortable, tucking you in tightly.

Hiromi wraps you in his arms, feeling your gratitude like a soothing balm on his soul. He holds you close, stroking your hair gently as you snuggle against his chest. The silence between you speaks volumes about the bond shared - one of love, protection, and unspoken understanding.

"Get some rest now," he says softly, his voice lulling you further into relaxation.

◈ CHOSO KAMO

As a stepfather, Choso is there for you in times of need. Right now, you're going through your period, and he's ready to help take care of you. He's not bold or confident, but he knows how important it is to support you during this time.

Being a curse, Choso is indeed curious about the human body. As he helps you with your period, he finds himself fascinated by your menstrual cycle. He wants to comfort you and learn more about this natural process, taking care of you while gently studying your body.

Gently, Choso holds you close as you lay on his thighs, the cramps making you hiss occasionally. His fingers lightly trace circles over your stomach, attempting to provide comfort as he absorbs the rhythm of your pain. The unfamiliar feeling of caring for someone heals a part of him, even though it's something as simple as relieving period cramps.

"Are you okay?" Choso whispers softly, concern lacing his voice. "I've never experienced something like this before... I want to help, but I'm not sure what to do." He continues stroking your stomach, trying to find some relief for you and hoping his touch brings comfort amidst the discomfort.

You force a smile, saying you're fine, but Choso can tell you're not. Your words don't match the tension in your body. He carefully moves closer, placing his hands between your legs, gently caressing your stomach in a slow, soothing motion.

"May I try massaging your lower abdomen?," he suggests, cautiously approaching your abdomen. His fingers are warm and soft, hesitating slightly as he seeks your permission. "It might help with the cramps," he adds, his dark purple eyes filled with concern. He's never done this before, but he wants to help you feel better. He's always been interested in human bodies and their functions, but now he's learning more intimately.

Reluctantly, you nod, allowing Choso to continue massaging your lower abdomen. His fingers move slowly, tracing gentle patterns that might bring you some relief. As he works his fingers, you instinctively start grinding against his hand, seeking more friction to ease your discomfort. Choso notices this, but doesn't stop.

As his fingers reach closer to your core, you let out soft moans that he interprets as pleasure rather than pain. He sees how much you enjoy it, and decides to use his other hand too, cupping your hip to guide you into proper position. He studies your reactions, understanding that the sensation seems to bring you relief. The curves of your hips and the heat of your body under his hands make him feel both excited and responsible for your well-being.

"Is this helping?" he asks, his voice low and husky, portraying a hint of excitement. "I'm not sure if I'm doing this right, but I think it might be working." He watches your movements closely, guided by your responses. Every moan, every small sound of pleasure fuels his curiosity and makes him wonder how else he could make you feel good.

Despite his confusion and innocence, Choso can't ignore the growing attraction between you both. His cock starts to stiffen, pressing against his clothes. He groans softly trying to hide his arousal but you soon turn your head to reveal his massive bulge pressing against your head.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, embarrassed by his reaction. "This wasn't supposed to happen..." He's unsure how to handle the situation, partially aroused and partially concerned for you. "Should we stop?"

"P-please, let me grind against it", with a mix of surprise and nervousness, you beg him to let you grind against his erection. Choso's heart races; this isn't what he expected. Reluctantly, he places your head on the pillow, positions himself between your legs and undoes your pants, revealing your bloodied and swollen pussy. His eyes widen, he has never seen something like this.

He pulls out his own hard cock making sure he does everything to make you feel better. Carefully, he guides the head of his cock to your throbbing clit, rubbing it back and forth in small motions. Your contractions push your wet folds onto the tip of his shaft, leaving a trail of blood. Choso can't help but groan, feeling the warmth and wet folds rubbing against his member.

Choso looks into your eyes, seeking consent or dismissal. What he sees is desire, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

Swallowing hard, he feels a strange mixture of arousal and responsibility. Choso's pace increases as both of you moan heavily. He keeps rubbing his cock against your clit, feeling your wetness increase with each thrust.

Soon, you climax, shaking in his grasp, and he can't hold back anymore. Aching to release his own tension, Choso spills his cum onto your belly, still rubbing his cock against your clit. The warmth of your body and the sight of his seed spreading over your skin overwhelm him. "I'm—I'm sorry," he mumbles, pulling away. "That wasn-"

You interrupt him with "T-thank you.."

Choso's face turns bright red, but he can't deny the gratitude in your voice. Confusion clouds his mind, but he appreciates your Thank you.

"Y-you're welcome..." He stammers, trying to catch his breath. Despite everything, he feels satisfied knowing he brought pleasure to you. "Do you feel better now?"

"Y-yes so much", you admit.

After a moment, Choso kisses your cheeks gently, surprised at how soft and warm they feel. He stands up, helping you to your feet as well. "Let's clean up," he says quietly, guiding you towards the bathroom.

dividers from @/cafekitsune

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk gojo #toji x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro #nanami smut #nanami x reader #geto x reader #geto smut #ryoumen sukuna #jjk sukuna #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna #shiu x reader #choso smut #gojo satoru #hiromi higuruma x reader #jjk higuruma #higuruma x reader #tw stepcest #choso x reader

[grunckle]

On stars, guardians, and Rain World’s cosmology.

One aspect of Rain World lore that’s asked about quite a lot but normally never gets satisfying answers is the topic or Rain World’s space/universe/cosmology. Despite first impressions though, there’s a lot more it than meets the eye, so I thought I would compile most everything we know about it.

For one, to get it out of the way, Rain World isn’t on a planet, and its universe is fundamentally different from our own. This is something Joar has talked about on occasion.

He also said on an earlier dev log how Rain World functions more like a fantasy world where it doesn’t hold much relevance than a real sci-fi like planet.

“Oh, another thing - Rain World isn't a planet lol Cheesy Or I guess it might probably be on a planet, just as Lord of The Rings, Sex And The City, Zelda and Frankenstein's Monster are probably technically on a planet, but just as in those examples the planet aspect isn't really relevant at all. Rain World is more of a fantasy world or a dream world, not somewhere you can go in a space ship ~”

But even if it’s not incredibly relevant, it’s clear a lot of thought was put into Rain Worlds fictional cosmology, this was even mentioned by James.

So, that being said here's what we know about Rain World's cosmology in game.

The biggest indicator of Rain World's unique cosmology is that the Farm Arrays deep pink pearl just mentions celestial spheres, which are aspects of older cosmological models.

"This one is just plain text. I will read it to you. "On regards of the (by spiritual splendor eternally graced) people of the Congregation of Never Dwindling Righteousness, we Wish to congratulate (o so thankfully) this Facility on its Loyal and Relished services, and to Offer our Hopes and Aspirations that the Fruitful and Mutually Satisfactory Cooperation may continue, for as long as the Stars stay fixed on their Celestial Spheres and/or the Cooperation continues to be Fruitful and Mutually Satisfactory." ...May Not as long as the Stars stay fixed on their Celestial Spheres Grey Hand, Impure Blood, Inheritable Corruption, Parasites, or malfunction settle in Your establishment."

More subtly, there's also a mention of the ground colliding with the sky.

"If you leave a stone on the ground, and come back some time later, it's covered in dust. This happens everywhere, and over several lifetimes of creatures such as you, the ground slowly builds upwards. So why doesn't the ground collide with the sky? Because far down, under the very very old layers of the earth, the rock is being dissolved or removed. The entity which does this is known as the Void Sea."

You could chalk this line up to flowery language, but considering the presentation of the rest of the dialogue, it sounds more like an actual aspect of this world.

We know from the Chimney Canopy echo that the sun rises.

"From within my vessel of flesh, I would perch upon this spot to observe the rising of the sun."

And from the top of The Wall we can see the moon and stars (confirmed to be stars by Joar in the previous screenshot, instead of satellites or something else) , which are green!

So, what does this all mean? I think we can entail a few things with what they've given us.

For one, the mention of the ground colliding with the sky implies some sort of firmament, which isn't an unusual concept in the general realm of celestial spheres.

But on the topic of celestial spheres, the pearl actually isn't the only place we see the concept. Guardian halos are very similar to depictions of celestial spheres, and also astrological clocks.

You can make of this as you will, perhaps the astrological references being tied to guardians could hint at the nature of karma, but there isn't much to really delve into that idea.

For what it's worth, celestial spheres are also core concepts in Gnosticism, which Rain World is heavily inspired by. I explain it more in this post about Void Worms, but for a quick synopsis in Gnosticism there are seven planetary spheres, and an eighth above them; the planets and stars are fixed to their spheres. These things just further cement the fact that celestial spheres seem to be a key aspect of Rain World's cosmology, and it would also likely imply it's universe follows a geocentric model.

For a bit of a more out-there theory, people have pointed out how the view atop the wall stretches really far, going far beyond what we could see on a spherical planet like Earth, which has led some to theorize that the world is also flat.

But what is probably the most important aspect of Rain World's cosmology is the nature of dust. Dust builds up, and the bedrock of the world is eaten away at by the Void Sea. Civilizations rise and fall into the sea as new ones are built above it. Many, including myself, believe that the world exists in a sort of state of equilibrium. The world is dissolved from the bottom, then that falls back on the world as dust; even in the final moments of the game we see dust suspended in the void sea depths.

And hey, even void worms are described as being star-like.

"Oh, interesting. This is a diary entry of a pre-Iterator era laborer during the construction of the subterranean transit system south of here. In it they describe restless nights filled with disturbing dreams, where millions glowing stars move menacingly in the distance."

Cyclical, recursive, something else entirely? We can never really pin down the true nature of Rain World's cosmology, but the things we do get hint at something strange and unique. It's such an interesting aspect of the lore, and it seems like Videocult will continue to make mysterious cosmologies in their future projects...

#rain world lore #rain world #rain world spoilers #videocult

[celeryb1tch]

spencer reid x student!reader

18+! this post contains nsfw content

when spencer gets home from work he finds that you haven’t finished your essay, so he tries to ease your mind.

content: lots of pet names, fem!reader, you’re getting an arts degree lol, age gap but not too intense since this is early-ish seasons spencer, slight degradation at the end, reader orgasm, oral and fingering (r! receives), overstim, forced orgasm.

(i’m literally gay but i’ve been so delusional and in love with this fictional man lately i had to write something to get it out of my system!!!)

—

when your boyfriend came home from work, tie loose and satchel abandoned on the kitchen counter, you felt a wave of embarrassment flush you. you were still working on the same essay you had been last night; the one spencer made you promise you’d finish today.

“how is my pretty girl?” he asked, laying back beside you on the couch. when he leaned over to kiss you chastely, your stomach churned and you shut your laptop quickly.

you could feel hot tears start to pool in your eyes, biting back the sob you so desperately needed to get out. spencer took one look at your face and sighed, wrapping an arm around you.

“oh, baby. you didn’t finish it?”

“i tried!” you protested, your eyes squeezed shut to avoid seeing his disappointed face. “please don’t be mad at me.”

spencer’s gentle hand cupped your cheek, running his thumb across it lightly. “look at me, angel. i’m not mad.”

the floodgates opened when you finally dared to look at him, seeing his mouth pressed in a flattened line. tears streaked your face and it only added to the embarrassment. your boyfriend was a capable man, and here you were crying because you couldn’t finish a stupid essay before he got home from his 9-to-5.

he tried to hold you closer, but you struggled against him. you didn’t deserve his comfort or his sympathy. he settled for running his free hand through your hair soothingly. “hey, just talk to me. what went wrong, can i help?”

you shook your head, fighting through a hiccupped sob to answer. “i couldn’t find the last source i need. i was sifting through articles for like four hours, and i just gave up.”

ever the problem solver, spencer smiled down at you softly. “okay, let me take a look. you know i have fairly good research skills, they’re kinda required for my job.”

“you don’t get it!” you huffed, frustration evident in your voice. “you go to work all day and i can’t even find one source. one! i shouldn’t need your help for everything.”

recognition flashed in his eyes, and then he really pulled you in. it was useless to relent, you could feel the determination in his touch. he shushed you softly, one hand wrapped around you firmly while the other drew patterns on your back. when your breaths slowed and your sobs subsided, he pulled back to hold you at arms’ length. “baby, you are one of the smartest people i know.”

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, and spencer grabbed your chin to ensure you couldn’t look away.

“i wouldn’t lie. no one i know is as sensitive as you are, as empathetic and in touch with their emotions. that’s what makes you so good at this program. i certainly couldn’t complete your degree.”

and you knew how bad at concealing the truth your boyfriend was, so reluctantly you believed him. “thank you,” you just about whispered.

his eyes cast pure adoration on you, even as your tear-stained cheeks were red and raw. “your incredible brain is one of the reasons i fell in love with you. so if you can’t find anything, there must be a reason. could you please just let me take a look?”

spencer had indisputably won you over, one arm still holding you to his side as he opened your laptop on his own lap. you relaxed into him, head pressed to his chest where you could hear his heart beating perfectly. with a hum, he scanned your tabs in a matter of seconds, scrolling to the bottom of the search result page at a speed the computer could barely keep up with. “i know what it is, but you’re not going to be happy.”

lifting your head, you squinted at your boyfriend inquisitively.

“you were typing the date wrong, honey. the last two numbers were flipped.”

you felt that feeling of incapability rush through you again, your eyes stinging in preparation to cry. but spencer was right there to prevent you from shutting down, hand on your head passing slow strokes in comfort.

his lips hitched into a small sympathetic smile when he looked down at you. “my poor girl, worked yourself up so hard your brain stopped working. too much essay writing this week.”

and of course, he was right. you’d been running yourself ragged recently trying to keep up with deadlines, not to mention the extra work you’d taken on early to prevent overwhelm for finals. when you’d told him your plan, spencer had advised against it. he didn’t want you sacrificing your sanity now for a bit more time with your boyfriend in a few months. but never not supportive, he relented and instead helped you draft a schedule to complete everything.

you couldn’t feel too stupid with spencer’s sweet voice telling you that you weren’t. “it’s not even due until next week, remember? i just wanted you to finish it tonight so i could take you out to dinner,” he confided sheepishly. “you’ve been working so hard, i wanted to reward you.”

despite knowing it was physically impossible (as spencer reminded you often), you could feel your heart swell from the overwhelming love you felt for your boyfriend. you pecked kisses all over his face incessantly until he swatted you away, blushing crimson from the unexpected affection. “okay, where are we going?”

spencer hummed mischievously in faux thought, tucking your wild hairs back from your face. “you didn’t finish your essay, so i actually think it’s only fair to punish you. at least before i take you out anyway.”

a heat bloomed in you, both in your cheeks and between your legs. it was rare that your boyfriend was anything but tooth-achingly sweet with you, saving his more dominant side for certain circumstances. apparently this was one of them. “oh, really? how are you gonna punish me, sir?”

he pulled you into his lap, mouth finding your neck immediately. “if you’re going to be stupid, i might as well treat you like you are. i know how much you like it when i call you a dumb slut, despite the fact that we’re both aware of how intelligent you are.”

your core ached with need, fluttering at his words. “that’s kinda fucked up, huh? i shouldn’t want that.”

“actually, it’s fairly common, especially for women with a high amount of stress in their everyday lives. most people enjoy some form of degradation and or praise when having sex.”

“spencer,” you groaned. his beautiful brain always had to get in the way of the fun, not that you seriously minded.

he smiled, pressing his lips to yours again. “sorry, baby. yes, it makes you a very naughty girl.”

despite the pure love in his eyes and his touch, you felt a pang of arousal when he degraded you. it felt good to be demeaned by someone who thought so highly of you. so you let him pin you against the couch, clothes long forgotten, and relished in his nasty words as he sunk to his knees before you.

your laptop was somewhere on the ground, still open to that unfinished document. but it was the last thing on your mind when you felt spencer’s mouth trailing down your front. his fingers hooked your panties, pulling them down with a string of arousal attached. “fuck,” he grumbled. “you are a little slut, aren’t you?”

you struggled to respond as his fingers passed through your folds, thumb toying with your clit lightly. “mhm, yours.”

“that’s right, baby.” all of the showy dominance dropped for a second when he smiled up at you, that familiar twinkle of passion in his eyes. and then he ate you out.

all you could do was grip the bedsheets, small whines leaving you each time he ran his tongue roughly up your clit. he’d take a moment to kiss your inner thighs, slipping two fingers inside to hit that sweet spot when he wasn’t lavishing it with his mouth. it wasn’t long before you were on the edge, feeling the knot snap in your stomach. with a start, you gasped through your orgasm, spencer’s hand finding yours to soothingly stroke his thumb across your knuckles. but as your breaths slowed, he didn’t.

“spence, i’m done,” you panted, hand gripping his hair.

“no you’re not.”

with a roll of your eyes, you tried to pull your hips away to no avail. his fingers were still pumping into you at a relentless pace. his head raised to meet your eyes, slick across his lips. he looked wild like this, disheveled, so different from your normal boyfriend, who was almost too sweet for his own good. “i told you this was a punishment.”

even knelt between your legs, this spencer was in complete control. his gaze was locked on yours, watching every tiny movement when he skimmed his thumb across your clit again. your core reignited when you realized what was going on. he was going to force you to cum again.

“please, too much” you whined, free hand pushing the top of his head away in a superficial effort. you couldn’t think properly with the intensity of the overstimulation.

spencer licked his lips, voice gravelly in a tone it only reached when he was purely aroused. “you can take it, honey. i know you can be a good girl for me. don’t you wanna be good?”

you nodded silently. there wasn’t much you could do but let him fuck you stupid.

“that’s it. gonna make you dumb, yeah? i’m gonna fuck you until you can’t think.” his head dipped down, resuming his wet, sloppy kisses to your clit. and with the combined effects of his words and actions, you were cumming again quickly.

you were unabashedly moaning now, jaw slacked open and eyes screwed shut. you were far past the point of caring what you looked like to the man furiously devouring you between your legs. your hand gripped his tighter, feeling his fingers pound a bit harder in acknowledgment.

your second orgasm felt like being catapulted into the atmosphere. it was sharper, practically knocking the air from your lungs. it took you a few moments to stop panting.

spencer grinned up at you, a sight for sore eyes in your clouded vision. “thinking about anything, baby?” he asked. and when he only received a small shake of your head, “good.”

his mouth returned to your core, soft kitten licks causing you to twitch and wince away. he squeezed your hand firmly, giving you a stern look. “only cleaning you up this time, promise.”

once you weren’t dripping arousal down your thighs, spencer pulled you onto him when he sat back down on the couch. all you could focus on were his warm, strong hands tracing sequences on your skin. he loved to imagine binary code, mapping it out on you because he knew the motion calmed you down.

you were barely conscious, brain buzzing like tv static in the post-sex bliss. you heard spencer chuckle to himself before saying, “so i think we’re getting takeout.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #molly’s! #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid smut

[leighsartworks216]

You Have A Type, Don't You?

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Based on this post

I wrote this instead of doing any of the work I need to do! I'm gonna go do that now lol

Warnings: innuendos, minor references to sex, the barest hints of jealousy

Word Count: 1,601

Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Your pencil scratched across the paper, drawing Astarion over and over again on a single page. This wasn’t anything surprising; you drew all of your companions. Gale, Wyll, Karlach, Shadowheart, Lae’zel - they all had pages of their own, but it was usually only one drawing. Some had even posed for it. It was just a way to relax, and their faces always lit up when you showed them, even if they tried not to show it.

Everyone needed a break from fighting and exploring day in day out, so you decided one more day here wouldn’t hurt. As such, you’ve spent the better half of the day just drawing. At first it was little doodles of Scratch, but then you realized you hadn’t drawn the vampire spawn yet.

Most of the expressions you captured came from memory. You’d occasionally sneak a glance for quick reference, pretending to stretch or get distracted by some birds. But at some point, he’d disappeared from camp. You just assumed he’d gone off hunting.

That assumption was proved quite wrong when a voice tsked over your shoulder, almost directly in your ear.

Startling away from the sound, you whipped around to see Astarion crouched down. He wore a self-satisfied smirk and settled down into a full sit on the ground.

“It seems someone is infatuated,” he teased. “So who is it? Someone we saved from peril, perhaps?”

Oh. Right. It had completely slipped your mind.

You cleared your throat as your cheeks warmed and smiled. “Y-Yeah, something like that.”

He chuckled. “Come on, darling, there’s nothing to be shy about. Spare none of the juicy details. What’s he like?”

“He’s, well,” you stammer, “he’s interesting.”

He scoffed. “That’s hardly juicy or a detail. Or is he just another pretty face?” He leaned forward, trying to get a better look at your drawings. You wanted to pull them away and hide them, but why? All the others had drawings done of them, and you loved showing it off when they were done. Why was this any different?

“No, he’s a lot more than that,” you admit quietly. You weren’t good at lying - usually Astarion took the lead any time you had to - but maybe if you didn’t tell a complete lie… “He’s funny, charming. His laugh lights up my world. He’s had a rough go of it, but he doesn’t like it to show.”

“He must like you if you know,” he hummed. Your heart leapt into your throat as he pointed to the pin pricks drawn on the neck. “Is he a vampire, too?” He chuckled, but it sounded strained. “You have a type, don’t you?”

You scoffed even as warmth flooded to your cheeks. “No! I do not have a type.”

“No, of course not,” he played along. “Certainly not for creatures of the night who bite into that pretty little neck of yours.” Despite his smile, there was a tension in his eyes. “I don’t mind, dear. I’d be more than happy to scrounge around some nights so you may indulge your new lover.”

You shook your head. “You don’t have to do that, Astarion,” you assured. “He’s not… We’re not together.”

“No?” You shook your head again. He opened his mouth to give you advice or console you, but you cut him off. It was better to end this fantasy now, before it began to hurt too much.

“It doesn’t matter. Besides, you shouldn’t be sneaking around so you can look over my shoulder. I could have been drawing something terrible.”

He laughed. “All the more reason to risk a peek. You’re so good, it would be nice to know you can be tempted.” Then he scowled. “Unless it’s something terribly dull. You deserve much more than missionary.”

If your cheeks weren’t already blazing hot…

“In any case, I was only wondering when you’d draw my portrait. You seemed more than happy to provide the others with a likeness. And…” He looked past you, seemingly far away. “I haven’t seen myself in two centuries. One gets curious, especially when you’re as vain as me.”

If he heard your heart start racing, he didn’t comment on it. Drawing him would make him realize it wasn’t some other vampire crush you were drawing. But, it had been a while since your adventure began, and you’d drawn everyone else. You swallowed down your anxiety. “Yeah! Of course! Did you wanna pose, or anything?”

He blinked and suddenly he was back in the present. A sly smirk covered up whatever emotions could be lingering on his face. “If your little vampire friend doesn’t get too jealous. I would actually like if you could draw me just,” he paused, “smiling. It would be nice to know what everyone else sees. Make sure I’m not off-putting, you know how it is.”

Once he was sitting comfortably, you turned to a fresh page and began drawing. The paper was hidden from his view, but he watched as your hand, wrist, and arm all moved in tandem like a clock’s gears to create an image. Your eyes moved between the sketch and him multiple times. Sometimes you’d glance up and draw for almost a minute. Then other times you kept going back and forth, constantly checking for reference.

Watching you work was fascinating. All your surroundings faded away. Karlach being her usual loud self, Wyll dancing, Gale cooking, Lae’zel sharpening weapons - nothing could turn your attention from him. He almost felt subconscious with the intensity of it. Your eyes studied him, taking in every single feature, and translated it to your journal. What did you see when you looked at him, he wondered. What did the world see? It had been so long, he couldn’t even remember his face. All he knew was he was attractive.

With a final few marks, brushed away to blend them into the rest, you looked down at your masterpiece. You were so caught up in the drawing you forgot why you were hesitant before, but now that Astarion stared at you from two different angles, your anxiety came back full force. There was no way out of this.

“All done, dear?”

You smiled shakily up at him and turned the journal around. His face scrunched up in confusion. When he met your eyes, he was decidedly unamused. “Darling, if you’re going to draw your fleeting fancy, don’t trick me first. I know it’s hard to see past the depraved bloodlust, but we don’t all look alike, you know.”

“No, Astarion, it’s not- I-”

While you fought to find words, Karlach picked up the slack. Cupping her hands around her mouth, she shouted across the camp, “IT’S YOU, FANGS!”

Dread washed over you. You closed your eyes. If a merciful god was going to kill you and rid you of this embarrassment, now would be the time. A bolt of lightning, perhaps. You’d even welcome decapitation.

You risked a glance when you felt your book being tugged carefully from your hands. His eyes were wide, mouth slightly open as he tried to comprehend what the fuck had just happened. Gods, now he was going to leave camp. You buried your face in your hands. He was going to pack everything up and leave before the sun even touched the horizon. And you’d never see him again. Maybe you’d go find Cazador yourself, just to kill the bastard.

“All these drawings… are me? Darling?”

You inhaled deeply and lowered your hands, but you couldn’t bear looking at him. He could stab you with his dagger and you’d apologize to him for it all. Hell, you’d let him drink you dry if it meant leaving this all behind you. “You’re very pretty,” you admitted quietly. “I didn’t know how to ask, and just- You can rip the pages out, burn them, whatever makes you feel better. And if you leave, I won’t blame you or chase after you or-”

“I’m not upset.” Your head never shot up so fast. “Well, a little. You’re not subtle when you stare, you know. I thought you were just uncomfortable being around a vampire, but this…” He turned back to the portrait you’d just finished. “This is really what I look like?”

You swallowed away a small portion of the shame. At least he wasn’t running away. “As best as I can capture you, anyway. Y-You’ve got these sharp eyes, and your hair curls around your ears, and you get little wrinkles around your eyes and mouth when you laugh - and I just like drawing you.”

The page flipped over again. The page of expressions, capturing everything you described. When he smiled full and bright his fangs were on full display, accented by the laugh lines on either side of his mouth. And the puncture wounds on his neck…

“Ah, so when I said you had a type…” He chuckled, but it didn’t hold as much warmth as usual.

“Your laugh does light up my world,” you admit. His red eyes were on you in an instant, flickering over your whole face. “Just, for the record.”

He glanced at the drawings once more, contemplative. Then, he held the book back out to you. “I wouldn’t be… opposed to trying this. Whatever this is.”

You reached out to take it, but he pulled it away. “But, no more sneaking glances across camp when you want to draw me. I would be delighted to model for you again, in any pose your sweet heart can concoct.” He held the book out again. “Deal?”

You grabbed onto the book, finally relaxing as you smiled. “Deal.”

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @mjmygd @flsalazar @thedevilssinner @marina-and-the-memes @softempest @rebeccasship @pinkishredlemonade @faeoran

#fanfic #fanfiction #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate astarion #baldur's gate tav #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #fluff

[withleeknow]

whiskers.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff; reader has whisker dimples bc this is self-indulgent as hell, written in one sitting and v unedited lol it is once again 2am and i am half asleep. the fake cut mimo has on his cheek in the pics is kind of exactly where my whiskers are lmfao word count: 0.6k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

"whiskers," minho says, pulling your gaze away from the laptop in front of you.

you roll your eyes half-heartedly, though you do put the device to the side to give minho your undivided attention. he's looking at you expectantly but patiently, like he's just asking you to give him a little love.

this isn't something that you've always liked about yourself, your whisker dimples as the internet has so lovingly deemed them these days. they would come out when you smile, or when your face twists into an unpleasant scowl. as a kid, people often found it odd how you had dimples so high up in your cheeks when others had them around their smile lines. you always felt a little different, a little weird whenever someone pointed this out even if it was only in harmless fun.

when minho first became aware of it, he was absolutely fascinated. he'd made you laugh so hard that you couldn't contain the bright grin that spread across your face as complete and utter joy took over you. you were clutching his arm, giggling at the story he was telling you when the dimples showed themselves, the cute indentations settling on top of your cheeks as if they were the physical manifestation of the happiness you felt inside.

you remember what minho did. he had cupped your face gently in his hands, then traced the soft lines with his fingers as he marveled at you. "you look like a cat," he had said, and you didn't really know what to make of it. it was so early in your relationship that you weren't sure if he was complimenting you or making fun of you like the others had.

but then the stars in his eyes twinkled a little brighter, the delighted quirk of his lips expressing his wonder better than words could. he had kissed you right there, softer and sweeter than he ever did in the short time that you had known each other back then, and you quickly learned that oh, maybe this little detail about yourself that you were embarrassed of your whole life was a good thing after all.

you still don't know the reason minho likes them so much. to you, they've always been something to ignore as best as you can, something to not draw attention to because you don't want people to highlight that maybe you're a little different from everybody else.

even as you sit here, years later with the love of your life who's got a very particular request for you, you're still not entirely sure why he's obsessed with your odd dimples enough to want to see them almost every day. it's a mystery to you and yet, it makes you feel all warm and bubbly inside whenever he sends this simple demand your way.

you adhere to his request nonetheless. when the dimples appear, you watch as a smile blooms on his face, growing bigger and bigger until it makes his eyes crinkle. like an instant boost of serotonin, you think.

minho traces them with gentle fingers, gazing at you in awe as if it's the first time he's seeing you like this. when he leans closer, you can't help but meet him halfway until his lips are tentatively brushing your cheeks. you can't help your own smile either, when it deepens and only accentuates the small moon-shaped dents which he kisses. five times on each side, and then he's peppering kisses all over your face while you laugh and accept the sudden burst of love.

sometimes he calls them whiskers, sometimes he calls them moons.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 31.05.2024]

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know fluff #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids #lee know #lee minho

[wesstars]

heaven on earth (ii)

wednesday addams x fem!reader (mostly gn, only term used is “girl friend”)

summary: your friends-with-benefits situation with wednesday isn’t so friendly anymore, but if you could only uncover your own eyes, you might’ve noticed. wc: 5.5k tags: explicit, MINORS DNI! all characters involved are 18+. kinda ooc wednesday, painfully oblivious reader, bad fluff, fluff to smut, top!reader and bottom!wednesday, semi-public (car) sex, mild blood, biting, mild overstimulation. a/n: not sure how I feel about this lol. special thank you to 🕷️ anon for her ideas and workshopping <3 comments/asks welcome, as always!

read part one here! this can be read standalone, but is intended to be a continuation.

masterlist

For the fifth time, Wednesday slapped your thigh to get your attention. “Turn it down.”

You huffed a laugh, and figured it was time. You were playing your ‘obnoxious’ pop playlist, full of mostly Taylor Swift and random Korean bands. It was collaborative with Enid, and likely one of Wednesday’s least favorites. Lowering the volume, you tossed Wednesday your phone.

“Alright, it’s your turn.”

The two of you were driving back from a day trip to a nearby town—actually, you were supposed to be driving back the rest of Enid and Co, also, but while Wednesday was beyond ready to leave, they all wanted to stay and do something called a “holy trinity.” How someone could have so much alcohol in so little time was so bizarre to you, but then Wednesday, of all people, rolled her eyes and downed three shots in just as many minutes, and seemed no worse for wear. 

Seemed was the key word there—not a quarter of an hour later, she’d grabbed onto your arm, grip slack, and her eyes were becoming unfocused, roving all over your face only to miss your eyes and tack onto somewhere lower.

You’d coaxed her to eat something after that. Post French fries and buttered bread (she’d kill you after she knew you’d made her eat such unrefined food,) as well as a bottle and a half of water in, she’d mostly walked it off. You figured it was time to get Wednesday home. As far as you knew, the rest of your friends were still out, though you’d made Yoko promise to text you when they were leaving and when they got back. The windows were open in the car; the wind lifted Wednesday’s fringe off her forehead. You glanced over to where she was gingerly operating your phone, punching in letters on Spotify. Your heart twisted.

You didn’t really want to admit that weird feeling you had the first time, and all the rest of the times, you saw Wednesday. It was a sort of jittery one, with a swoop in your stomach, that made you want to prod her into a conversation. You’d gotten quite a bit more than you’d bargained for, from that first fateful kiss in the classroom, to every secret, heady rendezvous after. The last time you two had been intimate—fucked, in your bed—had left an indelible mark, natural as a shadow settled neatly in your chest. The bickering and play fights had only made things worse, and you knew you had to ignore it all, for Wednesday. To keep things the same, because… something’s better than nothing, right?

You supposed that “something” was where you were right now. Being her ‘girl friend,’ with a space in between, sex and unrequited feelings included, was the best place that you could ever be with her. You had those close moments with her that you could cherish, but also that emotional distance that Wednesday undoubtedly wanted. Perfect. Your childlike sentiments were ones that you were likely to carry in your heart, deep down, for fucking forever. They were never going to see the light of day.

Lilting piano filled the car, shoving images of you and Wednesday seated together before the keys into your mind. Your phone dropped back into your lap.

“Nocturne? In E minor.” You blurted out before you could stop yourself.

“I’m surprised you know.”

“Hey!” Indignant, you nearly shot something back that was sure to start one of your bickering matches again, when an unfamiliar sound rang through the car, lovely as the music, but something you’d never heard before.

“Did you just laugh?”

Wednesday’s mumbled denial was covered up by your own laugh, bordering on hysterical as your heart picked itself up and started racing. 

“Do not insult me like that,” Wednesday grumbled, rubbing the hem of her sweater between her fingers. “Focus on the road. Dying with you in a car crash is too pathetic to even consider.” Though her words were sharp as always, her even tone had something in it that, if one wasn’t careful, could be mistaken as gentle.

You snorted again, unable to stop laughing. “And if a double decker bus…” you sang, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel. Wednesday’s glare nearly sliced you clean in half, and you were smart for once, shutting up immediately. She wasn’t laughing anymore, and some part of you mourned that.

After Chopin played Liszt, Liebestraum no. 3, and you wondered if Wednesday knew how to queue on Spotify. You followed the winding road up the mountain. You’d be back at Nevermore soon, but selfishly, you didn’t want this to be over. It was an odd time, with no bickering, no siege, no sex, and who could blame you if you were feeling particularly, disgustingly, sentimental? Blame the Liszt.

Turning the car off the road, you pulled into a deserted vista point. Carpe diem, you thought, throwing caution to the wind and the car in park. 

“Why have you stopped?”

“Weds, we’re looking at the sunset.”

“I do not need to see it, it happens every day—”

“Oh, come on,” you laughed, unlocking the car doors and stepping out. With the wind whipping around you, blowing your hair every which way, you ducked to peek into the car. “Humor me, I guess. Don’t you feel sorry for me, or something?”

She gave you a pointed look. “I do not.” But she followed you out the car anyway.

Leaning on the hood, you looked out at the scene as she joined you. Spiky evergreens stretched out across the stony slopes, with the last vestiges of snow clinging to the tops. The sun stretched its longing light into the rapidly darkening east behind you, pulling taut the shadows and blanketing everything in an aureate shine.

You glanced over at Wednesday—despite her earlier protest, it seemed as if she was tolerating this. The tension around her brow was gone, and her arms hung relaxed by her sides. The silence wasn’t rare, but it felt reverent anyway. Your heart adored her in her outfit; it was something your mind refused to register. She was in black knee high boots, made of some leather you couldn’t pronounce, an inky dress, flowing in the wind, down to her thighs, and a soft deep gray sweater. There was a sort of bleeding sentiment, beginning to seep into your everyday life, into wondering what Wednesday would think of the book you were reading, imagining her reaction to Bianca’s quip, overthinking her hand clutching your sleeve in the courtyard.

You deliberated, vaguely, what it would be like if you tumbled down the mountainside, into those trees—would the wood be cushioning or bruising? It was a serious consideration, with all that you were feeling. Those damned feelings, ones that Wednesday would undoubtedly scorn, made you kick up the gravel underfoot in frustration.

Beside you, Wednesday cast an uninterested look over you at the noise, silently judging. A beat passed. She grabbed the collar of your shirt, wrinkling it, and pulled you into a bruising kiss. 

“I am going in the car. The back seat. Be not afraid.” She retreated, and gave a little smirk, one reserved for the golden light and dark trees.

It was purely unfair, as the blood rushed from your head to pool in your stomach, making your heart work overtime. Stumbling to the back seat, you’d barely sat down before Wednesday reached over to the console and locked the doors. She’d taken off her boots, leaving her legs clad in white socks scrunched around her calves.

She climbed into your lap without preamble, squeezing your hips with her thighs. The car roof meant she had to duck her head just a bit, giving you the perfect opportunity to press your lips to hers. Having Wednesday on top of you was the kind of thing that made your head spin. And spinning you were, down into that deep unending abyss where there was only the smell of hot sugar, pine, and iron. 

The Midas touch of the setting sun made Wednesday seem even paler, from her exposed knees to her small hands, glowing like some ethereal being. She kissed you as if she could wrap her teeth around you, like searching for sweetness in the corners of your mouth. Sure enough, there was something about her, a sense of urgency, that threatened to take in all of you. 

“This dress is nice,” you murmured, pushing it up her pale thighs, rubbing away the red marks her boots left on her calves. Your hands continued upward, to the light dampness of her inner thighs.

“You said you liked it last time.” Wednesday immediately glanced away, as if she hadn’t meant to say those words. There was a faint flush to her cheeks again, but the two of you were fogging up the car windows.

You ignored the pulsing in your stomach that traitorously screamed she wore this for me? “It’s enchanting,” you said. “Like a witch of the wood.”

You nosed your way into the nape of her neck again, a favorite spot of yours, unable to stop your stupid mouth from running. “I adore it…” You pulled her tighter to your lap, skimming the seam of her underwear at the juncture of her thigh. “Can I touch you, Wednesday?”

“Get on with it,” she said, breathlessly, indulging you with a quick quirk of her lips. 

Skimming the back of your hand up between her thighs, you sent your other hand to palm her chest through her dress. You felt her through her panties, the fabric soft and smooth from her slick. Dipping your hand below the waistband, you wasted no time finding her clit. Her breath came down hard—it was her tell, you knew, even when her face remained mostly impassive.

She was sensitive today, back arching with a small gasp as soon as you touched her. Hand shooting past your head, Wednesday grabbed onto the headrest, hard enough for the leather to creak. Her outstretched arm was right next to your head, and you couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss the inside of her elbow. 

She sighed, unfurling tendrils of a storm in smooth skies. “You have all of me,” Wednesday said, something soft.

You press a kiss to Wednesday's forehead, equally soft, as you curl your fingers again. “If only, Wednesday,” you said, unthinking.

Wednesday froze, squeezing her other hand on your shoulder hard enough to leave pretty bruises under your collared shirt.

You pulled back, cocking your head. “What is it?”

She furrowed her brow at you, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing, then glanced away quickly.

“What’s wrong?” Your fingers traced another circle around her clit.

“Stop asking.” Her voice was firm, but it had a waver in the middle, like she’d almost changed her mind. 

“I’ll stop asking,” you whispered, “if you tell me what’s up.” Her eyes were glazed over with a sheen not unlike her slick that coated your fingers, something shiny and sweet. 

“You’re hopeless,” she said, not even a second before she clapped her hand over your mouth.

What an Addams wants, an Addams gets, you surmised, blinking quickly. You rubbed your free hand up and down her thigh, trying to soothe her, but she only moved her hand to grip your jaw, her intent the sear of fire through the underbrush.

“I do not like repeating myself,” she said quietly, “so listen closely.” She shifted closer to you on your lap, car leather squeaking, settling on her knees so your nose was in her collar. She reached down and gave you a handkerchief from her pocket. Knowing what she meant, you pulled your fingers from her warmth, feeling a hard lump in your throat. “And make no noise.”

You nodded. She looked wild on top of you, hair mussed from your make out session, the apples of her cheeks a dusty rose.

“Honesty colors me,” she said by way of explanation. “And you talk too much, so this is how it will have to be.” She seemed to think for a moment, biting her lip. Her burgundy lipstick contrasted so starkly with her gray sweater, as if she was the only screaming color in a black and white world. She might hate that, you mused absently. Maybe she was more a whirlpool of the blackest black, sucking in all of the color and light around it so that you had no choice but to be drawn in, to the only real thing you’d ever known.

“You’re stupid,” Wednesday started, matter-of-factly. “Just like everyone else.” You nodded, used to this sort of thing by now. “But your particular brand of stupidity is showing its truth.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, arms automatically going around her waist while you leaned back to look at her. Where she was going with this, you had no idea. You only knew that that whirlpool was making its way closer and closer to you.

“At first, our… arrangement was indeed purely physical.” She paused. “But things have changed, quite drastically. I do believe I’ve reached a… point of no return, but I have since found a balance.”

Wednesday locked her eyes on yours, unflinching. “I give myself to you time and time again-” the words were unfamiliar from her mouth- “yet, you seem to give no indication that you know. ‘If only?’ It’s nearly laughable.” She gave a huff, though her gaze was contemplative. You cocked your head, mind uncomprehending, mouth dry.

“You have my heart, beating or still.” Her words rang quiet in the car. Your own heart started up again, with all the betrayal of a thrumming bass. You tried to push it down, but it didn’t erase the reality of what Wednesday had just said—did Wednesday ever lie? She was good at it, sure, but you’d long learned that Wednesday’s word was her end. “And it appears as though you are completely unaware.”

“Unaware?” You broke her rule, and you could see the tick of annoyance in her eyes. But you plowed on anyway. “Are you saying that you have my—that I don’t know that I have your—that you like me?”

“My devotion is more than that,” Wednesday said casually, “but it may be that you’re unable to handle that at this time.”

Sure enough, you could feel your body informing your mind that you were hyperventilating, Wednesday’s weight on your lap the only thing keeping you from shooting off to Saturn.

“I don’t—” you struggled for your words, the usual wit you showed while bickering with Wednesday, the strategy you’d used to defend Jericho, absolutely nowhere to be seen.

“Need I pull stars from the sky to prove myself to you?” she said, raising an eyebrow in amusement, as if she wasn’t blowing through every poorly stacked defense of yours. It would be just like Wednesday, for every word of hers to be devastating and world shifting. No one knew Wednesday Addams and remained unchanged—that was just the kind of person she was, romantic as murder via blade. Perhaps to her, your wide eyed reaction was enough of a damning confession. “You’ll be the end of me, but what bliss that would be.” 

“Um,” you started, eloquently. “You’re… you’re not thinking straight,” you rasped out, mind freezing. You could feel your back stuck to the seat, unyielding. “You’re—”

“If I didn’t know you and your oblivious tendencies, I would think that it is almost insulting of you to doubt me.” She gave a small sniff, chin held high. “You think that just because you do not recognize my words, means that I am not in a right state of mind?”

In one fluid motion, she pressed her forehead to yours, and cradled your face between her two cold hands. Your name felt like salvation from her lips; “believe me, I’m wide awake.”

Your jaw went slack, and you were sure you looked as much a dumbass as you felt.

“I intended for my… vulnerability,” Wednesday’s voice wavers on the word, “to be a sign for you, but either you are just that unobservant, or you are unwilling to admit to what is right before your eyes.”

“I’d never not pick up on something on purpose, Weds.” Your brain was wading through a thick mud, unable to turn at the speed that Wednesday wanted.

“Does that mean that you are willfully disregarding the way I show myself to you?” Finally, in her words, you were able to see the exact vulnerability that she had alluded to.

“No, I’d never, I just… didn’t want to hope,” you said, embarrassed. “Romance isn’t your thing.”

“It’s not,” she replied simply, quietly. “I understand your reservations.” Wednesday’s hands held an imperceptible tremble, but her gaze was strong.

“No—of course I—” your throat tightened, but you felt the weight falling from your shoulders anyway. That was something you recognized. “Of course I like you.”

The silence rang yet again, and Wednesday’s eyes widened, the onyx of them turning warm as molten metal. The exact expression in them was hard to place, but it calmed you, in the wake of speaking aloud something you’d been afraid to admit to yourself.

A thought occurred to you, more clear than any you’d had since Wednesday had opened her mouth. “Even if we’d never—if we never have sex again, I’d still l—like you.”

Despite the way you stumbled into and over your words, Wednesday’s dark eyes on yours grew warm, pupil blurring into iris; the corner of her mouth gave an upwards tick.

“In the cracks of light,” Wednesday whispered, reverent as prayer as her fingertips traced your cheekbone, “I see the heaven on earth I’ve won with you.”

She kissed you then, and you couldn’t hold back any more. It was something like pure relief—though your mind still didn’t quite comprehend Wednesday’s confession (confession!), your heart broke the dam, pulling you down past inhibition. Spiraling to Wednesday’s gravity, it was as natural as breathing to give in.

Wednesday, all knowing as always, must’ve seen the way your resolve broke. She slid her mouth against yours, open and hot, unhurried but eager. The car leather under your thighs was as warm as Wednesday on top of you—not even she was immune to the rays of waning sunlight, it seemed.

“You know,” you muttered, between capturing her lips, “it’s just like you to say all that about moving heaven and earth. Most people just say ‘I like you.’” It wasn’t a complaint by any means; with your hands on her waist, you’d have it no other way.

“As I said, it is more than that.” She took a breath, completely steady and confident, now. “You consume me, completely.”

“And you, I,” you said softly, as if you could do anything but agree to her heady desire. “I’ve got you, Wednesday.”

Her forehead dropped to your shoulder, arms wrapped tight around you. It took a moment for you to realize that in her silence after your words, she was grinding down, near imperceptibly, into your lap.

“Mmm, my love,” you murmured, the significance of the endearment not lost on you, “look at you.” Sliding a hand up her back to her hair, you felt her braids through your fingers. You ran your hands down once more, under her sweater to feel the muscles around her shoulder blades. The heat you felt through her dress from where she was pressed to you, through your trousers, was something out of a darkest dream, unable to be forgotten.

Wednesday leaned up again, eyes sharp as a lance, to brand you with a kiss. She bit your lip, breaking through skin, and you grinned at the pain. It was hard and harsh, comforting like the thin edge of a knife. You felt the blood seeping into the seams of your teeth, rain in scorched earth. Intoxicated, you seemed to float closer into that sweet and dark whirlpool.

“That hurt, Wednesday…” you leaned in, voice dropping. “I wanna…” There was a beat of silence where you could only taste the copper in your mouth, sweet as you knew the slick between her thighs to be. You shifted your grip to her hips, bruising, and the soft little moan Wednesday gave in response spurred you on. “I wanna hurt you.”

You did, helplessly. Of course, you would rain hell on anyone that so much as lifted a finger against Wednesday, but to hold her trust that came with pain—you wanted that from her, to know when she hurt, when she wanted to hurt. Whether it was holding her back from the edge, or flying and dropping together to the bottom, bodies crashing against one another, you wanted it. Like something out of a classical myth, with wings of wax or blood, you would burn and be burned to feel the weightless warmth of that golden light.

There was no hesitation for Wednesday, just a look in her eyes that you’d come to know intimately as hunger. “Hurt me.” Her voice was low, nearly fond, in your ear as her eyes tracked the blood collecting on your lips. She leaned towards you and licked, tongue to your teeth, translucent saliva mixing with the burgundy. “I want it to hurt—I want you to hurt me.”

When she leaned back, her lipstick was stained with your blood, and it made you want to bleed if only she was the one taking it. You leaned your temple to her jawline, eyes burning at the sun through the windshield. Your hands continued once again up her thighs, just as reverent as before. The two of you never could do anything by half—you were always Wednesday’s. Realizing it, speaking it aloud, confessing or not, couldn’t have changed that. Despite that, as you rocked back and kissed the blood off Wednesday, you felt as though you were on your knees, professing everything you were. Giving one last cheeky swipe of your tongue on her lips, you went to tug Wednesday’s panties down. She followed your lead easily, tossing the expensive garment somewhere to the side. 

“My sweet girl,” you sighed, something possessive curling in your words. “What would you like?”

“Everything.” There was a devout way about her utterance that had your hands shaking with the desire to fulfill her. “Touch me.”

Crossing one arm around her to clasp the back of her neck, you brought her face close to yours, the tips of your noses brushing.

“Everything? How much can we do with ‘everything’ when you’re so sensitive, angel?” On cue, Wednesday’s eyes slipped shut as you drew a finger along her pussy to find her wet and wanting.

“Don’t you think you should be the one to answer that?” Her voice, bold and challenging, shook up your stomach like champagne. You were completely, utterly ruined before Wednesday Addams, and it was a nearly celestial ruin, so bright and beloved it nearly hurt.

You didn’t hesitate, slipping your finger in and grinding your palm on her clit. You didn’t miss her knees sliding further apart, that elusive grin gracing her face as she tipped her head back. Only her tight hold on your shoulders kept her from falling into your lap. Your mouth tasted of iron, such a contrast to Wednesday’s burnt sugar sweat on your tongue as you licked a stripe up her jaw to bite her earlobe. Drawing every small sigh out, you took your time, curling your fingers the way you knew she liked. You squeezed your hand, heavy where her shoulders met her neck. The jagged breaths she took in response made you crave more, and your stomach burned with contentment when she let you press another finger inside of her.

Wednesday’s half lidded eyes tracked down your neck, hunter to the scent of fear, leaving a shiver in her wake. It was inexplicably easy to discern what she wanted, even as she threaded her hands in your hair, something tingling and distracting.

“Go ahead, I know you want to.” Like blood rushing back into white fingertips, her soft lips were on your neck, undoubtedly leaving a smear of lip stain that you’d have to be chastised to wipe off. Almost as if she’d read your mind, she was sucking at your skin, impatient. Already you could feel the raised welt, and the way her tongue soothed the strain.

“You’re mine,” she breathed out, harsh despite the way she was panting with every twist of your fingers.

“Yeah,” you whispered, the haze of being Wednesday’s blurring your every action. “I’m yours.”

You curled your fingers, and had to bite down a moan as her teeth sank deeper into your neck, a cause and effect that you’d kill for. You swore as she set sight on your jawline, the sweet shock of her hot tongue making you shiver. 

“Took you long enough,” she muttered darkly—it seemed she was satisfied with the state of your neck, since you could feel the skin throbbing pleasantly. She leaned back, proffering her own throat.

“I was always yours,” you said easily. “I can just…” you trailed off as your sharp teeth met her skin in the spot you knew she liked, making her cry out, “show you better now.”

Wednesday’s hands tightened in your hair, pulling a broken gasp from your throat. Her smirk, challenging as she took in your reaction, only spurred you on. It was pure selfishness, when you grinned lazily as she tugged. You gave as good as you got, though, each curl of your fingers and shift of your hand had her trembling.

She was close; you could feel it in the uneven cadence of her breath, almost as erratic as yours. Pulling the collar of her sweater aside, you worked your tongue against her jugular, her pulse tempting and honey sweet in your mouth. It was nearly tangible between your teeth, soft and solid, the pounding of her pulse, just milliseconds away from your own.

“C’mon, Wednesday,” you whispered in her ear, “just like that.”

Her breath stuttered, climbing up higher to the returning lump in your throat. It was always a marvel, the way that Wednesday was so incredibly responsive to you, your touch or your words. The hard catch of her lip between her teeth made you grin, and you reached out, tugging it free. You leaned in to kiss her forehead as you slipped your thumb in her mouth instead, your fingers never stopping. 

“Wednesday.” She turned her glossy eyes towards you, and it was the closest you’d ever seen her to coming without really falling. “Let go.”

At your words, she gasped, and you could feel her cunt pulse around your fingers as she came. Her teeth bit into your skin and her eyebrows knitted together ever so gently—you loved to watch her come undone. She was all soft moans and flushed cheeks, open in a way that she hardly ever was otherwise. It unfurled something bright and warm in your chest, spreading out into your fingertips. You felt as hazy as she looked, the smell of her spilling into the air and undoubtedly lingering in your chest.

“That’s perfect, love, you’re so good for me.” You shushed her as she panted, eyes unfocused beneath her mussed fringe, but searing into yours. You continued your palm on her clit, holding her tight as her body stuttered. You moved your hand to cup her face, smoothing over unshed tears along her waterline.

“You’re…” Wednesday gave a low groan as you hit that sensitive spot inside of her again, none too gently.

“Yes,” you answered gently. “You’ll tell me if you want me to stop, won’t you?” She nodded, eager, as she pushed her hips into your hand, even though it made her whole body shiver. 

“Fuck—”

You hummed in response, feeling her cunt open even easier now that she was impossibly wetter. As you worked a third finger into her, Wednesday’s spine went rigid, a whining, desperate sound you’d never thought you’d hear breaking from her throat. She grabbed your hand, and her palms were damp. Her grip on your wrist was tight, just as much keeping you from progressing as it was keeping you from pulling away. You leaned in by her ear. “Does it hurt?”

She gave a jerky nod, jaw clenched and lips parted. You would turn a storm on its head for those ways that Wednesday strayed from her control, especially when you were the one guiding that meandering path. Pressing the heel of your hand into her clit, you laughed, small and indulgent, as she clung tighter to you, a strained little cry escaping. 

“Good girl, Wednesday… you’re taking it so well, aren’t you? You’re taking me so well, darling…” Fisting the front of her sweater in your hand, you pulled her off balance, tugging her close so her lips fell to yours, easy as breathing. Swallowing every single prized whimper that fell from her, you kissed her slow. Wednesday was already sensitive, but this was intense for even her, you could tell. Her breath came shakily against you as you pulled away, having smeared her lipstick to your content. Fingers sliding punishingly against her clit, your laugh rumbled low in your chest as she keened, soft and just a bit pleading.

“Very good, Wednesday, my love,” you coaxed. Her gasp, more like a sob, washed over you in a satisfaction that made you shudder. The slick from her previous orgasm clung to your hand, making it easy to keep up your punishing pace. Her tears shined like sea glass in her lashes, as devout to the cause of ruining her cheeks as the dusk outside was to darkness. You had no idea how much time had passed, only that if she asked, you’d stay right here with her until daylight again.

“I’m—” A whine rose from her throat, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“You can do it, baby-” your thumb circled her clit as your fingers found their way impossibly deeper into Wednesday- “just for me, okay?”

“Okay,” she repeated, mindlessly. This world where Wednesday let herself trust you to take care of her was one you could live in, drown in, make your home in. You raised your hand to the juncture of her neck and jaw, heavy and comforting. Reminded of every time Wednesday had put her hand in that same place on you when you were on your knees in front of her, more intimate than anything, you tugged on her wrist, instantly missing her hold in your hair. Intertwining your fingers together, you held your hands together in between you and Wednesday. 

Without a warning, her fingers tightened around yours, so hard that her knuckles turned white. You could see that how hard she came took her by surprise, too—eyes wide open and pupils blown. It was breathtaking, you thought, just how much tension was in her, all tense shoulders and choked cry. Her nails dug into your skin, her grip tethering you from dropping off with her. It stung, and you loved it, the maroon of your blood welling up just enough to smear her fingertips. 

Wednesday’s head fell into the nape of your neck, nuzzling like she could find the world’s secrets in your skin. Hand still in hers, you wiped away the smeared burgundy around the corners of her mouth with your thumb pad, fingers lingering.

“That was devious,” she murmured, words blurring around each other.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you chuckled. She nodded, somewhat resolutely. You eased your fingers out, tucking them surreptitiously into your mouth. The gesture didn't go unnoticed by Wednesday, but she only narrowed her eyes.

Even in her post-orgasm daze, Wednesday looked dangerous. Her fringe was all over the place, getting caught in her eyelashes, and you could finally attribute the pink in her cheeks to something a little more than the fogged up windows. Surely, this was heaven on earth, having Wednesday with you, steady as planetal orbit. You shifted her to sit sideways in your lap, making sure her knees didn’t burn from the leather. She was watching you, carefully. It was almost as if she was trying to memorize you, the studious way she looked at you, like she was the sole messenger for a world that wasn’t allowed to take you in. It made your heart pound, finally in accordance with your head. You let her take her time in your arms, rubbing her shoulders. The little press of her lips was back, something you had adored for something dangerously similar to ‘forever.’ She seemed content in a way she hardly ever was, the haze in her eyes clearing as she studied you. 

“You’ve changed a lot since I met you,” she commented, not unkindly.

You looked down into Wednesday’s face, at the night air drifting through her hair again. You could feel the sting from the little crescent shaped marks that her nails left. It was a warm contrast to her cold hand in yours, clasped between you. “You changed me, Wednesday.”

--

wednesday: you have bewitched me, mind, body, and soul… i love, i love, i love you. 

reader: huh?

a/n cont’d for those brave souls that made it this far: yes, wednesday’s dress has pockets. isn’t that wonderful?

I’m SO BAD at writing fluff. plus, reader is the most unreliable narrator to unreliably narrate. should’ve put “painfully oblivious” as a warning for part one too.

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!

masterlist

#project wes #sbx #fanfiction #wednesday #wednesday (2022) #wednesday 2022 #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday addams x reader smut #smut #jenna ortega #reader insert #self insert #wednesday addams fanfiction #wednesday addams fic #lgbtq #wednesday addams fanfic #tara carpenter x reader

[lesbian-for-arthur-morgan]

Request : first time holding hands

I’d love to see their reactions 😭

First Time Holding Hands

Short Headcanons || Gender Neutral Language!

Genre: Fluff Featuring: Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde, Javier Escuella, Charles Smith, Sean MacGuire, and Sadie Adler Warnings: None

AN: A shorter post today! Thank you so much for requesting these were so fun to write I literally love doing cute little moments with these characters ~ I hope I answered the way you meant !! lol I feel like I got a little off track in some ---> Requests are open! Check out guidelines if you have any questions :)

<><><><>

Arthur Morgan:

This man is a nervous wreck around you. Especially when you first start showing feelings for each other.

It took a million years for him to even admit that he was a little sweet on you, he is definitely not initiating anything past that point.

He can barely believe that you like him back.

The first time you grab his hand is not during anything special.

You’re sitting in the front of a wagon with him while on the way into town. The sun is casting a golden sheen across the earth, the air is warm but not hot, and the birds are swooping and playing in the sky overhead.

Without much thought you reach down to where he’s resting his arm on his thigh and envelope his hand with your own.

He tenses up at the contact, scared to make any sudden moves in case he might scare you away.

He doesn’t look at you directly, instead just glancing at you from the side of his eye. He wonders if you meant to do that or if you just did it by accident.

How your hand would end up on his on his thigh he doesn’t know.

When your thumb starts stroking the skin around his knuckle, tough and calloused from a few too many brawls, he starts to melt and relax a little bit.

He flips his hand around, which makes you pull away slightly, and fits his fingers in between yours. That way he’s holding your hand back and it’s a mutual.

There’s a blush on his cheeks and a grin on his lips. Not a word is spoken, but Arthur relishes the comfortable silence as he tries to think of what on earth he could have done to deserve something so perfect - to deserve you.

John Marston:

John is not a touchy-feely kind of guy. Not at first anyways. He doesn’t get what you see in him. He doesn’t understand why of all the men in the world - Hell, all the men in camp - you chose to waste your time with him.

He’s angsty like that.

He knows of your feelings for him and he gave a strong inclination that he might like you back but never confessed anything really. He figured you understood him enough to know.

You did, but he’s hard to read sometimes.

The first time you hold hands, he actually initiates it. You try not to overstep any boundaries with him, so he always has to make the first moves.

While playing a few practice rounds of poker (John is trying to teach you to play/play better), jokes are being thrown back and forth and rocks are being used as chips for show.

When John’s focus is pulled to the cards in his hands, you take the opportunity to try and grab a few rocks from his pile to add to your own as a little joke.

John catches you and places his large hand on top of your own making you freeze. A smug grin is plastered on his face and he doesn’t even look at you before placing his cards down, showing off a winning hand.

“Read ‘em and weep, Darlin’,” He laughs but never removes his hand from yours.

A small blush rises to your cheeks and his gaze falls to your combined hands. He curls his fingers under your own so that he’s fully holding your hand in his.

You try to catch his eye, but he’s so focused on his large, scarred hand covering your softer skin. It eats at him a little; a guilty feeling settles into his chest.

You place your other hand on his cheek and press on it lightly to direct his head to look at you. You smile one of your so-sweet smiles that makes his stomach ache a little with admiration, and he grins.

The two of you sit there for a while and continue trying to play poker each with one hand.

Dutch Van Der Linde:

Dutch has always been really hands-on with you. (Wink Wink)

He’s flamboyant, a show-off, cocky, and passionate. He loves to show you off and show off to everyone that you are his.

The first time he holds your hand, it’s to explicitly show that you are his and he is yours.

Most times after that, when Dutch holds your hand it means that the two of you are connected, not two people but one. Not just a couple but a unit.

He’s dramatic that way.

The very first time he holds your hand is during an argument with Hosea. A few things about camp affairs come up, plans are being thrown around, and Hosea makes a comment suggesting that you don’t need to be there for their conversation.

Dutch glares at the older man and reaches down to grasp your hand in his.

“But Daddy I love him!” Vibes I’m not going to lie.

He stands a little taller now that he’s touching you, it makes him feel stronger and more sure of what he’s saying. He puffs out his chest and looks down his nose at Hosea.

Hosea rolls his eyes a little and puts his hands up in surrender, telling Dutch that he can do what he wants.

When Hosea leaves, Dutch uses your entwined hands to pull you towards his side a little bit and hold you in an embrace.

He calls you his partner in crime, his other half, and a million other sultry things he can think of that causes a heat to rise in your chest.

He doesn’t let you go for the rest of the night after that, choosing to show off to the rest of the gang members that you two belong together and will always be.

Javier Escuella:

Javier values romance in a relationship.

Maybe nothing incredibly grand - but sweet notes, acts of service, small gifts here and there - he likes to show you how much he loves you through actions more than anything else.

All that and more is shown later on in your relationship. At first, though, Javier is more protective than romantic when it comes to you. It keeps him from showing his emotions at times, and makes him oblivious to your feelings other times.

He just doesn’t know what’s too much because he feels a lot of things, but he wonders if showing all that too soon will scare you away. His feelings are so intense that he gets scared away from you sometimes.

The first time he holds your hand is when you knick yourself while trying to do tricks with one of his knives.

You envy the way he’s able to just do the flips and graceful switches with the blades, and even how he can effortlessly play that five-finger-fillet game.

So, naturally, you try to replicate a trick you’ve seen him do a million times and it ends with a little gash on the heel of your palm.

It’s barely bleeding and looks more like a scrape, but as you hiss in pain Javier has forgotten his chore as he rushes to see what you’ve done to yourself.

He tsks at you and gently wraps his fingers around your wrist to get a better look at the wound.

You’ve forgotten the scrape at this point as his touch is sending jolts of adrenaline through your arm and his face is so close to yours you could count his eyelashes if you wanted to.

He doesn’t notice, too busy looking to see if you’ve mortally wounded yourself. When he’s satisfied that you won’t die, he looks up at your face (Which is dark with a blush and you’re trying to avert your gaze from him, but you just can’t).

He doesn’t understand what’s gotten into you until he sees your joined hands and a knowing grin cracks into his face.

“I’ll kiss it, make it better,” He murmurs and presses a slow, tender kiss to the palm of your hand while gazing up into your eyes the entire time.

He knows what he’s doing.

Charles Smith:

I genuinely feel like Charles is the most well rounded of the group when it comes to his emotions and how he conveys what he’s feeling to you.

Communication king for sure.

The first time Charles holds your hand it’s like he’s always done it.

It’s so natural to him that there really is no concrete first time that changed the meaning of your relationship or created some big deal.

Charles isn’t really someone who likes to show off and isn’t into public displays of affection. Brief hugs and hand holding are the only things he can bring himself to do with you if there are other people present.

He likes to hold your hand a lot despite that. Kissing, groping, or anything even a little heated is a big no for him (in private it is another story), so he likes to have your hands intertwined more often than not.

At first he would come up to you and hold his hand out, palm up, with a quirked brow as if asking you to place your hand in his. You oblige, of course, and he would follow you around camp or vice versa.

Now, Charles doesn’t even bother asking before he comes up to you and just grabs your hand whenever he sees you.

There’s no question about it, the two of you are always connected.

If he can see you he is by your side holding on to you.

It’s not possessive (unlike Dutch cough cough), but it’s more for his own comfort. He likes being near you and he likes that you seem to enjoy being near him.

Charles finds his twin flame in you, his other half. Much more than a soulmate, but his person.

Sean MacGuire:

Sean never really knows where the two of you stand in terms of a relationship.

He flirts with you over and over and over again. You laugh and blush occasionally, but end up telling him to shut up and wandering off.

He knows that he can come off as a sarcastic ass, but he didn’t realize that it’s so intense that you can’t even tell that he’s genuinely trying to get you to notice him as more than a friend/fellow gang member.

The thing is, it is hard for you to tell. Sean isn’t known for being the most serious guy in the world and you’ll be damned if you let him make fun of you by flirting with you and making you swoon or something.

The first time you hold hands with Sean is also consequently the first time you see Sean’s feelings for you are genuine, not some trick.

You turn away from Sean after he’s thrown yet another flirty remark at you, but before you even have the chance to mutter “Shut up, MacGuire” He’s shot out and wrapped his fingers around your own in a strong grip. It doesn’t hurt, but you can’t just pull away and tell him to stop messing around.

You turn back and look down at your conjoined hands.

“Please,” He begs and pulls you an inch closer. “Listen to me.”

You can hardly focus on anything but the warmth of his hand in yours and the way it makes your heart swell and tingle.

He explains his feelings for you, every last one of them. Some were a little more explicit and detailed than you expected, but you appreciated the straight forward honesty.

Let’s just say after that conversation the two of you hold hands and more pretty often in the future.

Sadie Adler:

Sadie and you hold hands all the time. She literally cannot tell how you feel about her.

Is this a friendship? Is it more? She has no idea because you’re so comfortable with her that the line between friends and partners is so blurred Sadie isn’t even sure if there was a line to begin with.

One night, you and Sadie are lying outside the tent that you share stargazing. Sadie is telling you what she knows about the stars and you chime in every now and then with your own little details. She loves the excitement in your voice when you remember the story to a constellation or find one that you hadn’t notice last time.

Your bodies are close, but your hands are closer. Lying in the grass, Sadie can feel the heat from your fingers and hers twitch and beg to touch yours.

She’s nervous, though, to take the relationship further. She doesn’t know if she’s ready to admit what she wants.

While she’s debating if it’s worth it, your pinky finger stretches and curls around her own. She audibly gasps at the action and her head whips over to see if you realize what you’re doing.

You’re already gazing at her with soft eyes and a small smile. It makes her bones turn to jelly at the sight and she tries to speak, but the only thing that escapes her mouth are sharp exhales as her words get tangled in her throat.

She tightens her pinky finger around yours, and you understand the meaning behind it.

It was all still confusing, but Sadie knew one thing: Friends don’t look at each other like that.

<><><><>

I love Sadie so much y'all don't even know

Hope you enjoyed!!

#rdr2 arthur #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption #rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #john marston #john marston x reader #dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde #javier escuella x reader #javier escuella #charles smith #charles smith x reader #sean macguire #sean macguire x reader #sadie adler x reader #sadie adler #arthur morgan headcanons #rdr2 headcanons

[phyrestartr]

Icarus Drabbles (Pt.2) | Sukuna x M!Reader

W/C: 3.7k [#Modern AU, ABO dynamics, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, Mob Boss!Sukuna, Alpha!Sukuna, Street Doctor!Reader, Omega!Reader, toxic relationships, age gap, sukuna is mid 30s, yuuji gang and reader are mid 20s, sukuna and yuuji are brothers, sukuna has FEELINGS, but he is BAD AT FEELINGS, nsfw, fluff, hurt/comfort, cheating, zenin family mentioned, lightly edited lmfao]

Note: There will prolly be a third drabble thingie lol I just wanted to post SOMETHING

tag: @better-imagination-9

1. Restless

Sukuna finally bagged you, the omega he pined over and hunted down for over a decade, and knocked you up, made you move in with him to ensure he could keep an eye on you and that growing baby bump. His alpha had rejoiced, running its victory lap around Sukuna’s chest, but then it slowed, yawned, and curled up, satiated. 

Now, his human side was left to its own devices, and it was bored. 

Probably because you were boring. Or, well, you’d become boring–you and your omega seemed more in-tune with one another, both settling down as soon as you both agreed on staying with Sukuna, with your mate. To Sukuna’s human instincts, that meant you were about as exciting and fun as doing his taxes. Yet, at the same time, he couldn’t fathom letting you go. Whenever the hypothetical crossed his mind, that second set of eyes would open and stare, tear bared, anger rippling. And Sukuna would agree with it. He didn’t want to lose you, yet he didn’t always want you either. 

And he was bored. 

“Hey,” you cooed, leaning over his shoulder as he stared into space on the couch. “You okay?”

Sukuna blinked a few times and rubbed his face tiredly, finding himself growing pissed off at the dull delight your presence brought him. “Yeah, ‘m fine. Need something?”

“Well, Christmas’s coming up,” you reminded. “Wanted to make sure we were still–”

“Can’t.” Bitterness rose in the back of Sukuna’s throat. God, he didn’t even want to look at you right now. “Gotta work.” He finally spared you a glance, but only after a long stretch of silence. You didn’t look perturbed or mad, not really sad or disappointed, just…placid. 

You looked at your phone, staring at something just for a moment before returning back to him with a slight nod of acceptance. “Alright.” 

Sukuna's other bristled. “Alright.” 

“I knew you couldn't really be taken ‘n tied down, Sukuna-sama,” Yorozu cooed as she cozied up into the spot between the man's legs, her hands smoothing up and down his thighs before deftly unlatching his belt and ripping it off. “You're too good for that sort of life.” 

“Don’t you have somethin’ better to do with that mouth?” The nice part of Sukuna asked. The less nice part of him wanted to rip her head off and punt it at the stupid fucking moon. Luckily for her, he was trying not to throw as many things at the horizon these days. 

Yorozu's eyes shone with pure delight. “Oh, of course, of course.” She unzipped his slacks expertly quick and pulled free his half-chub, excitedly stroking it to get him to full-mast. 

Sukuna sighed and sank back in his chair, trying to focus and enjoy the attention and spice he so sorely missed, but it was hard. Well, not hard, which was the problem–his mind wasn't finding this (cheating, getting a blow job at his desk, having a woman with tits on his knees for him) exciting. Thankfully, though, his body reacted in his mind's stead, and decided to not embarrass him. 

He closed his eyes and focused on the small hands grasping his base and holding his thigh–but your bigger, stronger hands held him better, digging in without the lethality of acrylics threatening harm. At least her mouth was warm, her lips soft--but your lips were soft, too, and you knew where he liked to feel your tongue press down. Her hair was silky and thick enough to fist his hand in–but yours was just…better. He couldn't describe it, but–

Knock it off, he growled. He needed a break from you, from how mundane you made everything, that was the whole fucking reason he ditched you in the first place. You were boring. You were making life boring. You–

What were you up to, actually? 

Sukuna sighed, this time in defeat, and snatched up his phone while Yorozu gave him head. He scrolled through whatever socials he knew you had, but saw nothing new, nothing Christmas-y. 

Who the hell is he visiting again? He looked to the side, gazing through the huge windows looming behind his desk as he thought, and then remembered. 

Sukuna tapped open your text thread and grimaced–it was so blatantly one-sided. The sight of his flippant convo-killing responses hit him with a wave of psychic damage that probably couldn't be fully healed for as long as he lived. He wasn't a fan of texting, but he was a fan of you. But-wait, didn't he loathe you?

5:05am went to see my mom for christmas

5:05am getting picked up dw

5:06am hope work doesn't suck too much

Right. You went to see family. Right. Sukuna was supposed to meet your mother. 

Damn.

“Fuck's sake,” Sukuna muttered moments before fisting his hand in Yorozu's hair and pulling him off his softening cock. “We're done.” He stood and tucked himself away, ignoring the indignant scoff the woman sent his way. 

“Sukuna–” 

“Leave.” He sent a text your way instead of tuning in to whatever Yorozu said as she picked herself up off her knees:

10:49pm When should I pick you up?

Of course he was gonna pick you up. He wasn’t about to let someone else take care of you for a second longer. 

“Clearly you're unhappy,” Yorozu finally cut in. 

Sukuna saw a read notification pop up in the chat. 

“Clearly that other one isn't satisfying you fully.” 

He watched the three dots pop up as you replied back. 

“After he has your pup–”

10:52pm you can come now

10:52pm if you're free 

“--you should reconsider your choice in mate–” 

Bang.

10:53pm Send me the address.

He stepped over her and the pooling crimson on his way to the door, texting Uraume to call the cleaners to take care of a mess in his office while he went to pick up his baby mama. 

Picking you up had been eventful.

Firstly, Maki and Mai had refused to open the gate for Sukuna in favour of mocking him and exclaiming, “are you kidding me? You're the baby daddy?” while incessantly prodding him for information. You'd managed to bat them aside to let him up to the house, though it took some effort on your part. 

Next, Toji Zenin himself was waiting at the front door, arms crossed, totally unbothered, dressed in his hideous Christmas jumper that his woman had apparently made him wear as punishment for something. Sukuna ribbed him, hiding just how confused he was about the entire thing–he didn't fucking get why there were so many Zenin assholes here. The outcasts, sure, but what the fuck was that about? 

“Oh. Toji's my stepdad,” you said when you had finally squeezed your dragon's hoard of gifts into the car and got in the damn thing to go home. Sukuna left it at that for the time being–he didn't want to think about what the fuck that meant now that the two of you were together. He had time to ask a thousand questions another day.

His mind still whirred in the elevator, though, and when he helped carry your only-child gifts into the penthouse like a servant put under a spell. You said something to him that he only realized a solid fifteen minutes later was, “I'm taking a bath. There's room for two,” and a fire suddenly lit under his ass. 

“Huh, so you can bear to look at me,” you hummed from the bath. It was large and oaken, filled with yuzu thanks to Uraume's thoughtfulness, and it overlooked snowy Tokyo and all its bustling, light-filled glory and–wait, what.

Sukuna scoffed as he pulled off his clothes methodically. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

You watched him undress shamelessly. “It means you still have lipstick on your dick.” You poked away one of the yuzu that bumped into you. “It's not really my colour.” 

Sukuna clenched his teeth and kicked aside his clothes before grabbing the showerhead to wash off before joining you because he was going to join you. No matter the case. No matter the objection. 

But you never objected. You leaned back in the tub and watched him while you rolled another yuzu between your palms. “Did you have fun fucking her?” Fuck, you could be so scary sometimes. And you didn't even have to try.

Sukuna found it hard to answer. He found it hard to even speak. Christ, was this shame? “Look–I didn't fuck her. Didn't even get close.” 

“So she just sucked your dick.”

“Tried. Didn't finish. Couldn't.” 

“So sad. Why not?”

“‘Cause she's not you.” Sukuna finished with the shower and slipped into the bath, sitting across from you with a content sigh. “You give better head.” 

“That went from being somewhat meaningful to annoying,” you grumbled. Still, you scooched over to him and pressed up against his side, clearly in the mood to forgive his stupid little attempted fling. “So. Then you're sure about this.” 

“Sure about what?” Sukuna wondered, suddenly feeling more at ease with the rich scent of you pooling through his senses. He leaned into you when you carefully smoothed his hair out of his face with that usual, simple gentility he'd come to desire so desperately every day. “Sure about you?” 

“Yeah. Us. Everything.” You nuzzled at his neck, dutifully scenting him up with kisses, nips and licks. “You started pulling away like a pussy, so I figured you regretted it.” 

Sukuna had to laugh. “You're callin’ me a pussy?” He half-growled before yoinking you into his lap and squeezing you up against him. His grin widened when he saw you hold back a smile. “I think you should apologize.” 

“You cheated on me with your stalker. Why do I need to apologize?” 

“You hurt my fuckin’ feelings.” 

“Oh. Hm. I see.” Your fingers, bigger than a woman's yet still elegant as a piano player's, danced across his firm shoulders in thought. “I think you need to have feelings for me to hurt them.” 

His hands found their rightful place (on your ass) and kneaded your skin thoroughly, squeezing and pinching wherever he felt most enticed. “You know I have feelings, sweetheart. Why do ya think you're here in the first place, huh?” 

Your scent flared with bashful approval. “Guess that's good to know. These days, you've left me wondering.” 

Sukuna grew placid gazing upon your features, listening to your words. If he really tried, behind that diamond mask of nonchalance most Zenin brats wore, there existed soft, vulnerable skin--tired and ragged, worried and creased. He'd done that to you. Why had he done that to you? 

He lifted a hand from your curves to cup your face gently, his touch breaking through the shields you so bravely put up to tell the world to fuck off. And you leaned into that touch so eagerly, so hungrily, with a sigh that sounded like you just remembered how to breathe. 

“‘M sorry,” Sukuna mumbled. The word felt foreign on his tongue. He didn’t know if he even said it right.

Your eyes squeezed shut just a little tighter, holding onto whatever you could of your crumbling shell as your hand rose to rest on his. “You know I love you,” you said while diamond dust turned to quicksilver.

Sukuna wiped the glimmer from your lashes. “Love you too, runt. Mean it.” Those words still felt strange, too, but he loved those words. He loved the way they made you glow from within, how they solidified you and stopped you from collapsing into a melted mess in the face of his betrayal and swift try at redemption. 

You nodded a little, the hard line of your mouth softening. Sukuna relaxed and hugged you close to him, purring deep in his chest in rhythm with you as you wholly accepted him in return and buried your face into his neck. He did the same, scenting you the way you had him, enjoying your company and weight against him. Because he loved you. He really did. 

So, he said once again, “Sorry.”

2. Family Matters

“Sukuna,” Wasuke warned. The attention of the younger alpha, leaning against the counter, was on you as you yapped on about this and that with his little brother.

Sukuna grunted and looked over his shoulder at the old man, though, silently and curtly asking, what? even though he already knew what was coming.

“Leave that boy alone.” 

Sukuna stared at his grandfather. It'd become more and more common, the way the young man challenged his elder, maintaining hostile eye contact that threatened the beginning of the end if the older broke first–but he never did. The old fuck was too tough. Molded by whatever his own colourful irezumi put him through. 

Once, when he was younger, Sukuna wanted to know how to break his elder. He wanted to crack him open and rip those secrets from him, find out how he could use that knowledge to his advantage to never feel so small in the eyes of another ever again. He hated it. He hated the dominance held over him, the humility that came with it. 

But, like always, Sukuna broke first, looking away with a grumble, reinforcing his place in the food chain.

Sukuna sighed. The old house was the same–far too traditional, too plain, too normal. It irked him to his core. Here, amidst all the boring normal shit of his past, his status in society no longer mattered; here, he forfeited first place, and took up second.

“Hey,” came your voice, muffled by the car window separating you from your lover. When Sukuna looked over at you, he saw his little nugget tucked safely in your arms, only half-awake as she nuzzled into the warmth of your chest. 

But then there was you. A face full of confusion, annoyance, and exasperation greeted Sukuna. You went for the door handle to wrench your man out of the car, but he locked it, watching you yank on the handle a handful of times before you knocked on the window incessantly. 

“Get out of the goddamn car, you little shit,” you hissed, looking between Sukuna and the front door of the house frantically. You stared at him hard, then, your frustration building every second your alpha refused to budge and end the embarrassment crashing down on you. 

A terrifyingly calm expression took over your face, before you adjusted the little pup in your arms and fished something out of your pocket. Sukuna didn't realize what it was until you leaned over and slammed your fist into the hood of the car, tearing into it easily with the fucking key in your hand. 

“You gotta be shitting me–” Sukuna scrambled to unlock the door and swing it open. He hopped out and slammed the car door closed. “You little–” 

“Oh, good, you found your balls.” 

Sukuna groaned as he looked at the damage you left. “Baby, you know how expensive this is gonna be to fix? Fucking hell, why're you such a crazy bitch?” 

“Well, look who I'm stuck with,” you said lightly. “Obviously you've corrupted me. It's not my fault.”

Sukuna grumbled and turned to you, grabbing you and pulling you close; but instead doling out a punishment as his past self was so accustomed to doing, he aggressively nuzzled the top of your head, viciously scenting you up and squeezing you against his solid frame while he grumbled and growled. 

“I'm splitting you in half when we get home.” 

You sighed, dramatic. “Oh no. I'm so afraid. But I guess I deserve such a brutal punishment. Sigh.” You nuzzled him back before tiptoeing up to kiss his chin, then his lips when he leaned down to meet you the rest of the way. “Ready?” 

Sukuna took a deep breath and looked over your face, running the back of his fingers against the rise of your cheekbone. He loved touching your face these days (more than usual). You still held onto a bit of pregnancy plushness that filled in the hollow angles of your handsomely beautiful face and other once-bony parts of your body. You'd never panicked about it, but you bitched and moaned, loudly lamenting about the way your clothes fit a little differently or how you just had to keep stealing Sukuna's shirts to replace your own. 

Touka, your little one, mewled from her spot smooshed between her parents. Sukuna sighed as he pulled back to look down at her, hoping she'd take most the heat off of him when he faced his grandfather again. 

“Let's just get this over with.” 

Yuuji was the one who answered the door. He lived with Wasuke, claiming it was just easier and cheaper than getting his own place, but most knew the younger was a worry wart; he couldn't stand by and let his grandfather get put in a home or quietly tough out everyday life on his own in his elderly years. Yuuji stayed for the sake of family, and Wasuke quietly welcomed it. His brother's goodness nearly struck Sukuna with guilt. 

But any chance at guilt died the moment he met the old bastard's stony gaze. 

“Itadori-san,” you cooed pleasantly, a far cry from the demon that'd keyed Sukuna's car. “It's good to see you again.” 

Wasuke quirked a brow and walked up to you, nudging Yuuji aside so he could get a good look at you and the pup nestled to your chest. Sukuna took a breath and looked away. He didn't need to see the critical stare of the old man while he processed the fact that Sukuna had indeed not stayed away from you. Ugh, the idea of being scolded made the alpha itch. 

“We're far beyond honorifics, boy. You know that,” Wasuke lightly scolded, and you beamed. Sukuna could imagine a little shiba inu tail on you, wagging fast enough to take flight. “I'm glad to see you in one piece after taming my grandson. It must've been a damn ordeal.”

Yuuji cackled impishly, pointing at Sukuna. “Oooh, burn.” 

“Sorry, who got the omega in the end?” Sukuna quipped back, making Yuuji sprout a grumpy look and cross his arms with a mumbled you suck. 

“Quit the fighting and come in,” Wasuke ushered. “And you,” he snapped, looking at Sukuna with chronic disapproval, “Take off those sunglasses. You're trying too hard. Look like an idiot.”

You stifled your laughter as Sukuna grumbled and plucked his shades off. His very cool, very neat, very fancy, very expensive shades.

Wasuke ushered you all inside, gesturing to the kotatsu prepared with food and drinks and starting off on a grumbling rant about the shitty cold mornings and warm afternoons that came with Spring. Obviously, he'd complained to break the ice, and it worked. 

Small talk turned into easier conversation. Whenever Sukuna seemed to struggle with being cordial, you would lean into him more, squeezing his hand tightly whilst purring under the radar. That worked, too. As much as Sukuna was an asshole, he didn't want the afternoon to fall apart. Better he stay quieter than say something to regret. 

“They've calmed you down,” Wasuke said, snapping Sukuna's mind to attention. It was then that he finally noticed Yuuji had effectively kidnapped little Touka and was giving her a tour of the house like she actually gave a shit. 

“Hm?” He grunted, so eloquent. 

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, leaning into your partner more with a sigh. “Words, not grunts, Sukuna.”

He huffed. “You grunt at me all the damn time.” 

“Not at our elders.” 

“Tch.” Sukuna rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Whaddaya mean they've calmed me down, huh?” 

Wasuke, for once, looked somewhat amused. “Your pup. Your mate. They've made you human.” 

“Ha? You're actin’ like I was some four-armed, two-faced freak or some shit.” 

“Some days you acted like it,” Wasuke scoffed. “Doesn't matter if you agree or not, I can see the change in you, kid–that wild thing inside of you is finally settling down.”

You hummed and looked up at him. “I've noticed, too. You're less pissy. More tolerant. Still annoying, but that's just a personality flaw.” Sukuna growled and nipped at you, but you faced him so very bravely and suffered no such nip. 

“I'm glad for you, kid,” Wasuke interjected, breaking up the petty fight that was about to go down. The two of you looked back to the eldest. “You were a real pain in the ass, and you fucked up a lot along the way, but you made things work out. You should be proud.” 

Sukuna would never be able to put his feelings, the utter rush he felt getting his grandfather's approval, into words. 

“So where does this end, kid?” Wasuke asked. 

“What?” He asked before he could properly think it through. 

“This life. Your ‘profession.’ How long're you gonna keep that up, huh?” 

Sukuna could feel you lean into him more, letting more body weight ease your shared worries about the life you shared and the professions you'd taken up. Both unpredictable. Both in the crosshairs of dangerous beasts.

“You think we'll end up six feet under like mom ‘n dad, that it?” Sukuna rasped. He looped an arm around your waist and squeezed you against his side in reassurance as Wasuke's expression grew gloomier.

“You're more like your mother than you know, kid. You don't–”

“‘Course I don't know,” Sukuna interrupted, firm but not vicious. “Mom was a fucking moron ‘n knocked up whoever the fuck she could to get an in into one of those big-name clans. No shit they'd get pissed off and kill the bitch.” 

Wasuke scowled, but didn't argue. It was hard to when his daughter in-law was in the wrong, when she dug her own grave with every child sired before slipping and falling in on her own. A sad story. An incredibly stupid one, too. 

“That won't happen,” you offered mildly. Sukuna looked down at you, suddenly feeling the urge to shoot another baby into you as you spoke up on your own. “I trust Sukuna as much as I trust myself; he's worked hard to create an untouchable empire, and I have the connections to supplement it.” You glanced up at him. “If it's not Sukuna, then it'll be someone else running Tokyo. I couldn't think of a better king.”

A beat of silence passed before Wasuke asked, “And you, kid?” You afraid? 

Sukuna willed his mind out of R-rated territory to look at his grandfather. “You know me,” he started with a troublesome grin, “I can't stay away from what I want.” 

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x male reader #sukuna x m!reader #sukuna x you #jjk x you #male reader insert #male reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen reader insert #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

[missmonsters2]

Mirror, Mirror | One

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: The thought of something more had never really crossed Wanda's mind when it came to you. Best friends for 10 years and there hasn't even been one instance of accidental sexual tension. You're her best friend, that's all—until someone points out that you obviously have a very specific type when it comes to dating.

Warnings: best friends to lovers. shenanigans. jealousy, jealousy. sexual tension. pining. yearning. sexual thoughts. spicy (tumblr's version). stupid steve. neurotic nat. brat & stinky. bug as in shutterbug.

*explicit version will only be available on Ao3 & will be posted there after series is completed*

Note: i'm back!!! Nothing like coming back and posting a mini series. Enjoy this superior trope. Updates will be on Tuesdays! As you can see, we're trying something new with explicit content lol 😬

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Count: ~4.1k

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It's strange how sometimes a single sentence can change someone's entire life. 

Wanda's thought about what sentences could change her life—usually, they're morbid and depressing.

'You have cancer.'

'Someone you love has died horrifically in an accident.'

'Your cat actually finds living with you miserable and would prefer the dangers of living in the streets.'

Never in a million years would Wanda ever think it'd be, 'Hey, have you ever noticed how your best friend exclusively only dates girls who look like you?'

And don't get Wanda wrong. It wasn't a morbid or depressing change; it was just...a change. An irrevocable change because now, Wanda couldn't stop thinking about it or noticing it. 

This was all Steve's fault. 

Because if someone like Stupid Steve could notice something like that, it had to mean something, right? But as Wanda remembers about the past girls you've hooked up with and brought around, she doesn't know what to make of it.

A part of Wanda wishes she had never talked to Steve that night at the bar. 

"Where's Vis?" Steve asked, looking around.

"With Tony playing pool, I think," Wanda shrugged. She doesn't particularly keep track of where her on-and-off boyfriend goes. She thinks they might be on an off-period right now, anyway. 

"And where's—oh, nevermind, there she is," Steve started to say but cut off when they both saw you across the bar talking with the bartender, flirting over drinks—which were probably free if Wanda could guess. 

Wanda's slightly annoyed because it's been a long week without seeing you, and Wanda's been used to seeing you almost every day for the past several years of her life. But you've been gone on a work trip this week for a wedding shoot and only came home just a little after lunch and needed an immediate long nap before tonight's get-together. 

That meant Wanda was sorely missing out on best-friend time, and now you were off flirting shamelessly with the hot bartender. Wanda's rooting for you, make no mistake. The bartender is definitely easy on the eyes, luscious hair, and lips—something Wanda knows you're weak for. 

Plus, Wanda's worried you're not anywhere near getting close to settling down. She wants you to be in a happy, fulfilling relationship. But she supposes she's in no position to talk herself. 

Wanda loves Vision without a doubt, but their relationship is definitely chaotic, and Vision keeps pushing for something more serious now that they've been dating (sporadically) for a long time. She's been considering it in her downtime and thinks it might make sense as the next step.

Best friends do everything together, right? So, maybe if Wanda decided to take the next step in a serious relationship, you'd find someone to commit to seriously as well. 

Then, both of you could get married at the same time. Then, they could buy a house in the same neighborhood right next to each other. There'd be endless double dates and vacations together. Wanda wouldn't have to miss you.

But first, Wanda needed to regain lost best-friend time, one-on-one style.  

"Hey, you know what I just noticed?" Steve said, breaking Wanda's drifting thoughts. 

"What?"

"Bug—" 

Wanda makes a face at your nickname. Granted, it was Wanda's fault you ended up with it back in your first year of university. You never let her forget it, especially now that you're a professional photographer.

"—over there has a very specific type she goes after for girls," Steve mused, sipping his whiskey before continuing. "I mean, they always have green eyes and brunette—wait, that's not true. She had two red-headed girlfriends in our last year of university. They still had green eyes, though." 

"Oh," Wanda said, unsure what to say since she's never paid attention to the girls you were dating. On average, they were a brief fling, and only a few lasted longer than half a year. "I guess so?"

Wanda distantly thinks about how she dyed her hair auburn in her last year of university because she was looking for a change that year and Natasha was insistent that she'd look amazing. Wanda recalls you were a fan of the look.

"Yeah," Steve nodded along. "Ironically, they always look like you in some way. Check out that bartender now—long, wavy-haired brunette with green eyes. She's got thick, long lips and even does that dark eye-shadow makeup thingy like you."

Steve just laughed it off, finishing his drink, thinking nothing more of it before he started talking about Bucky.

But it was like something clicked into place in Wanda's brain. A daunting realization that she was wholly unprepared for and not equipped to do anything about. 

Wanda watched as the bartender clocked off for the night and dragged you into a corner booth, drinks in hand. It gave Wanda the perfect view that the bartender wore many rings just like she did. 

In the poor privacy of the dimly lit corner booth, there was a staunch and needy kiss from the two of you, and Wanda swallowed roughly. 

From here, if you were none the wiser, Wanda could be easily mistaken for the girl in the booth with you. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Sometimes, Wanda believes she's just being absolutely ridiculous. So what if you go after girls who share the same features as her? That didn't have to mean anything. You've always told Wanda she was beautiful, and it was perfect how you said it. 

It didn't feel insincere or creepy. It felt good to know her best friend thought she was absolutely gorgeous. But just because you thought she was beautiful doesn't mean you harbored secret feelings for her. 

You'd be insulted if you knew Wanda had ever thought that. She'd just be another one of those girls Wanda's seen you humble on multiple occasions when they found out you dated women, and they were worried you might have a crush on them. 

But then, Wanda couldn't stop thinking she actually might be one of those girls because then she'd think about if you didn't consider her like that, it wasn't about her looks but something about her personality that wasn't your type. 

And what could that be?

Wanda thought long and hard, trying to remember the girls you've introduced her to. 

Sometimes they were funny, and Wanda was funny. She made you laugh all the time. She specifically remembered one time in high school when she made you laugh so hard you peed your pants just a little. 

Sometimes they were intellectual, and while Wanda didn't have an IQ of 160, she did fairly well academically and was on the right track in her career. 

Sometimes they were charming, and Wanda was the type where she got more charming the more you got to know her. 

So, Wanda just doesn't understand. She's nowhere further with her thinking ever since this weird information has been bestowed upon her.

Maybe it all just means nothing. You just didn't feel that way about Wanda despite the type of girls you dated suggesting otherwise. You didn't need a reason for it, and maybe the fact you only felt friendship for her was the reason. 

"Wanna order pizza in tonight?"

Wanda turns her head from the tv and notices you've put your book down. "Hm, not really. We had pizza last week," Wanda shakes her head. 

"How about that Greek place that just opened up on Willington Ave?" You suggest. "Pretty sure I heard you grumbling about wanting Greek food earlier this week."

"I was not grumbling!" Wanda scoffs but smiles when you raise your eyebrow at her. "Okay, I was grumbling a little."

You snicker as you pull out your phone to order delivery. "Oh, sweet golden best friend of mine, whatever shall you do when you get married to Vis, who hates Greek food. Do I foresee a life of Greekless cuisine? Oh, the suffering you'll go through!"

"I don't need him to like it," Wanda slaps your arm, sticking her tongue out before she cuddles you. "I have you to eat it with."

You laugh unabashedly, a sound that Wanda's accustomed to hearing the joyful sound. "Better hope the person I marry also hates Greek cuisine. I don't know if I can live a life of eating double the Greek food. I love tzatziki sauce, but if I grow to hate it from eating it too much, I will make you suffer the consequences of that."

Your voice trails off as you focus on ordering food, unable to see the cogs in Wanda's head turning. 

It's all so easy. There's no tension, no electric vibes happening. Just best friends enjoying the banter and making plans to eat. 

It was all in Wanda's head, right? You're her best friend, so of course you'd know everything about her. 

The right type of friendship is fulfilling and soul-connecting, and that's what Wanda has with you. When you have a one-in-a-million connection like that, the line between friendship and romance is thin, isn't it?

Wanda hates Steve. She'd never think about this if it wasn't for Stupid Steve. She can hear his dumb laugh, blissfully ignorant about the observation bomb he dropped upon her. 

"Do you wanna get ice cream after?" You ask, throwing your phone to the side. "I'll even treat you to the gelato despite knowing I'm going to suffer through your crazy farts later."

"Oh my god, I'm going to trap you under the blanket with it just for that!" 

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Within two months, Wanda forgets about it. Forgets, as in that she decides to drop it (let it linger in the deep depths of her brain that she refuses to acknowledge), and resolves that Steve has no brain cells and has no idea what he's saying. 

"Have you seen my strapless black top?" Wanda shouts from her room with the door open. "The one with the v-shaped front!"

"In your closet!" You yelled back from the living room, not taking your eyes off your phone. 

"I can't find it," Wanda whines, and she hears you sigh as you get up. The footsteps approach her room, and she finds you standing at the door with an unimpressed look.

"I don't want to hear it," Wanda sniffs. 

"Hear what, brat?" You say with a brow raised before you start rummaging through her closet. The nickname was a joke you started that Wanda was entirely a spoiled person, exhibiting bratty behavior at times. "That I'm not gonna be your roommate forever, so you need to learn to fold it yourself before putting it away?"

Wanda makes grumbling noises that are mostly nonsensical but smiles when you pull out the top she was looking for. 

"You are the apple of my eye, stinky," Wanda grabs the top from you before she runs into her washroom to briefly change into it. 

"A match made in heaven, yeah, yeah," you roll your eyes with good humor. "Hurry up, Natasha will kill us if we're late for Yelena's birthday. They're on an upwards mend in their relationship, so she's been so unbearably uptight lately to make sure nothing goes wrong."

"I know, I know," Wanda mutters, carefully pulling the top over her head to not ruin her makeup. 

"Alright, I'll hail us a cab, meet me outside."

"Wait, wait!" Wanda calls out. "I need help putting on my necklace."

You chuckle, walking back just as Wanda steps out of the bathroom with the delicate necklace she wants to wear. 

"Alright, alright, relax," you tell her. "Your accent gets really strong when you're stressed."

"You're stressing me out by rushing me," Wanda scrunches her nose even though you can't see it. "I'm also stressed knowing that you have to rush me, or I'll spend the party getting lectured by Natasha."

Wanda's voice comes out husked with the accent, something she's struggled between hating or loving, but mostly loving since you've expressed how lovely it is.

You grab the necklace from her hand, and Wanda moves her hair out of the way. The routine of it all starts to bleed the tension out of her shoulders. 

Then, that horrible Stupid Steve Sentence kicks into her brain. 

 It's only as you put your arms over, placing the necklace against Wanda's chest, and focusing on trying to get the clasp in. Wanda can feel your warm breath against her neck, summoning goosebumps along her arms. You're so close, and she can feel the heat of your body radiating onto her, your fingers just barely brushing against her.

The tension comes suddenly, squeezing inside her chest as her breathing slows and shakes. Her body warms in an unexpected way. 

"Ah, got it," you say, but Wanda can only focus on your voice and breath on the shell of her ear. "Cute necklace but the clasp is so annoying."

You pull away and start walking off. "C'mon, I bet if we tip our taxi driver an extra $20 bucks, they'll speed and we can pray we're on time."

Wanda's left standing there, knowing she probably sounds like she's fresh out of Sokovia with how stressed she is. Her right eye twitches.

Was that...Wanda gulps. Was that sexual tension?

And was she the only one who felt it?

Fuck.

She's going to kill Steve.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Natasha's absolutely neurotic when they arrive. It's just a simple backyard party, but it almost looks like a wedding venue with all the catering and flowers. 

Wanda's pretty sure Natasha's only being like this because she's overthinking about whether to cling to Yelena or give her sister some space to mingle with others. She seems to be sizing up Kate, who Yelena might be seeing, but it hasn't been confirmed. 

Yelena looks between exasperated with Natasha and secretly happy about the entire thing. Wanda can sympathize with her. After all, she's also a little sister, and Pietro can also be way too overprotective. Sometimes she's glad he's abroad in Europe for work while she remains in New York, but she misses him more often than she admits. 

"Alright, alright, Natasha," you groan, and Wanda's mind slips back into the conversation. "We're 3 minutes late, relax, will you? Damn, are you always gonna be like this until you and Yelena get back into whatever sibling bond you had before? Hope you're just like this with us because otherwise, you're gonna scare away all her friends, and she's going to hate you."

"Oh my god, do you think she'll really hate me?" Natasha bites her bottom lip in worry while looking around at all the people that they can only assume she's nagged about being late or whatever mishap. 

"Oh, man," you sigh, putting your hand on her shoulders before pushing her towards the bar. "You need some drinks and maybe some desserts in you."

Wanda's about to follow you when you turn around and nod your head in a different direction. She looks over and sees you're nodding toward Vision.

"You should go say hi to him," you tell her. "You've been complaining about not seeing him all last week, even though I don't know why you guys won't just FaceTime, but I digress. Come find me later, or I'll find you after."

You look over at Natasha, who's peering on her tippy toes to see if she can find Yelena.

"And, hopefully, I'll have ditched this nutjob," you whisper conspiratorially and laugh when Natasha turns around to smack your arm. 

"I heard that!"

Wanda chuckles as you walk off with Natasha while she turns and heads toward Vision. Despite how she was complaining about not seeing Vision last week because she did miss him, her expression was sour as she made her way toward him. 

Vision spots her immediately and waves at her with a warm smile. Wanda feels herself somewhat loosened at his expression. They'd also been friends a long time before they started on-and-off dating, so at the very least, she does miss his easy friendship. 

"Hey," Vision hugs her, slightly rubbing her back before he pulls away but keeps his arm around her. "It's been a while; you look lovely."

"Thanks," Wanda smiles with a shrug. She looks around and sees he's standing with Tony and Pepper. "How are you guys?"

"Could be better," Tony sighs dramatically. "Natasha won't let me do any of my cool party tricks as if I'm going to ruin her little sister's party. If anything, I could make it the party of the century!"

Pepper rolls her eyes good-naturedly. "We were just talking about how we're thinking of going to the Bahamas for vacation in December and escaping the cold. We've invited you and Vision along since it's been awhile since we've all gone together. Of course, we can also invite Bug and Natasha."

"Oh," Wanda says for a lack of anything else to say. She doesn't know how to feel about it, but she peers over at Vision, who's just smiling at her and looking eager about it. 

"I need another drink if I'm going to suffer through this party," Tony sighs. "Maybe I can convince Yelena instead!" He grins, dragging Pepper along, and they walk off together. 

"So, what do you think?" Vision asks when they're alone. "I didn't want to reply on your behalf since I wasn't sure, but I think it'd be good for us. I've missed you," Vision pauses as if he's about his next words but then says, "a lot."

"Yeah, me too," Wanda starts to say, but then her brain gets all haywire because it feels like a lie. She did miss him, but did she miss him a lot? "I think."

"You think?"

Wanda wants to smack her forehead because she didn't mean to say that out loud. "I mean, I was complaining a lot that I haven't seen you in a while all last week."

"Yeah, work has just been overwhelming. I get so tired after work, I just can't keep up with the texting or calls."

But you can, Wanda thinks. Granted, you're her roommate, so it's easier. But even when you have to go on work trips, you regularly text her no matter what time and squeeze in a quick call, even if it's just to say goodnight. 

The entire thing makes Wanda bite her tongue because why was she even thinking about that? That was completely irrelevant to Vision. 

Then—because as if just thinking about you wasn't enough—her eyes trail across the room, and the scene before her makes Wanda even more confused about her feelings.

You're standing there with Natasha at the bar, but it looks like Natasha's calling someone over to introduce you to them.

Another brunette with long, wavy hair, like she just had a blowout done. Wanda's not 100% sure from this distance, but she has an inkling that the brunette also has green eyes. She's wearing a white halter top and wide-legged sage green pants. She wears a lot of rings, but her makeup is lighter and more summery compared to Wanda's darker, smokey eye makeup.

In short, this woman was the clean girl aesthetic version of Wanda. 

And you look interested. 

This was ridiculous, Wanda fumes, feeling her stomach sink and cheeks flare hot in anger. As quick as the anger came, it dissipated.

Why was she so angry?

She feels betrayed, and her thoughts are turning very ugly. Wanda is definitely not being a girl's girl right now with how much she's thinking she's better than the girl in front of you. 

But that just makes everything so much more confusing. 

"Wanda?"

Wanda turns her head back to Vision. He looks concerned, and even when his eyes trail toward what Wanda's staring at, there's no additional reaction. He's not upset that she's staring at you, and that has to mean something, right?

It must mean there was never a concern about how Wanda might've felt about you. Sure, there were a few things Wanda couldn't be without, and you were one of them, but nobody can't be without their best friend. 

No one had ever blinked twice about you and Wanda.

Except now.

And that person was Wanda herself. 

The more Wanda thought about the entire thing, the more she became curious. The idea of you dating people who looked like Wanda was intriguing. She wanted to ask questions but didn't know what to ask.

It might mean nothing, but it also might mean something. 

And if it does mean something, Wanda wants to know what exactly it is. 

Therefore, Wanda needs nothing in her way to find out the truth and exactly what she wants, regardless of the answer. 

This was insane, wasn't it? Wanda's always been ambivalent about dating women. She's never gone out of her way to try it since she had Vision. Never mind entertaining thoughts about dating her best (girl)friend. And now, she was giving everything up in the pursuit of finding out what it could mean that her best friend was dating her lookalikes—and why she cared.

Wanda doesn't even know what she'll want to do with that information. 

Wanda looks at Vision, peering at his features she's always found handsome. When she thinks back, she's not even sure why she complained to you about how she hasn't seen or heard from him lately. She hadn't even gone out of her own way to do something about it.

"I'm not going on the trip. I don't think I actually missed you like that."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

The girl introduced to you was named Raye, Natasha's coworker that recently moved from Nashville. It was also confirmed she has green eyes, though they had specks of brown in them. She was a southern belle with a bold attitude, witty, and a wicked sense of humor. All in all, undeniably charismatic. 

At least, that's what you told her in private because all Wanda could feel was unrestricted aggravation with the other girl. The southern twang made Wanda's eye twitch, mostly because she knew you were head over heels for accents.  

"And then before I knew it, I was panicked and more lost than a blindfolded turkey on thanksgiving!"

You burst out laughing while Wanda's expression is stony, but when you look at Wanda, she forces a smile on her lips.

"Hahaha," Wanda dryly let out. "So funny."

But it wasn't. What the fuck did that even mean?

Raye continues to talk while you listen with rapt interest, and Wanda takes the time to observe your features in a way she's done many times before but with a different mindset. 

Your lips are curved in a smile, glistening from your chapstick. They're shapely, and they look soft. It rivals her favorite feature of yours, which is your eyes. They've always been so expressive with her, and Wanda's been around long enough that she knows what every expression means. She can tell when they glint with mischievousness or are soft with immense compassion and empathy. 

"So, what did you think of Raye?" You ask Wanda as you leave the party.

"She's cool, I guess," Wanda answers nonchalantly. 

The rest of the party was excruciating between Raye constantly hanging around you and Wanda also being too nervous to be alone with you. 

"Really cool," you sigh with a grin. "Glad I got her number. It's been a while since I've met someone so funny."

Was she funny, though? Wanda wonders.

"Funnier than me?" Wanda finds herself asking.

"No one could be funnier than you, brat," you smirk. "I almost peed myself laughing again when you almost knocked off Yelena's cake. I thought Natasha was about to enter into a coma." You snicker while Wanda rolls her eyes with a smile. 

"Glad I can always give you the biggest laughs, stinky."

Wanda glances over at your face, recognizing the excitement by the brightness in them. It's just another reminder that, as your best friend, she knows you like the back of her hand. 

But lately, when Wanda watches you pick up girls, she can tell when they're heady with desire. That look hasn't been directed at her, and Wanda wants to know what it'd be like if it were.

Wanda recalls the night you kissed the bartender and imagines if it had been her instead. She pictures your hand sliding across her jaw and cheek while your other pulls her closer at the waist. 

It's horrifying when a slow pit of arousal builds in Wanda's gut and...other regions. It feels utterly frightening and wrong like she's betraying the friendship for having and then reacting to such thoughts about you. 

But there's another part—the part that tells Wanda there's nobody in this world that she loves more than you. The mere idea of ever being apart from you was unfathomable. Wanda could and has endured so many things, and it would always be okay as long as she had you. 

So, knowing that Southern Belle Raye has the potential to be more than a one-night stand to you, Wanda realizes that she has a very small window to not only come to terms with her newfound feelings but also act on them as well. 

If this didn't go well, Wanda would definitely murder Steve.

PART TWO

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x y/n #avengers imagine #scarlet witch imagine #scarlet witch x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #modern avengers au #Elizabeth olsen x reader #mm: my fics

[caraphernellie]

build god, then we’ll talk // e.w.

a/n: preacher!ellie part 2!! yay! once again heavily mcr inspired lol, also mm a fever you can't sweat out aka the best p!atd album. i got super freaked out because this accidentally posted a few days ago and i dont even know why what the actual fuck. im super nervous about this one. this one is significantly worse than the first and if i wasnt already before writing this i certainly now am never seeing the pearly gates. AGAIN IF THIS ISNT UR THING DONT READ

read part one here!!

word count: 2.6k

warnings: preacher!ellie , christian!reader . some random bitch named paisleigh i tried to go for names karen would pick. fem!reader , dom!ellie , sub!reader . rough sex . church sex they are in the church please dont be mad at me LMFAOOOO . oral (e!receiving) , inappropriate use of holy water?? lol. established relationship (secret lovers). internalised homophobia + religious trauma , mean!ellie , she’s mostly very nice , just punishing reader and suuuuper clouded by internalised homophobia. degrading/slight humiliation kink , corruption kink if you squint , dacryphilia , spanking (r!receiving) , fingering (r!receiving) , hair pulling. dialogue heavy tbh ,, . use of the word whore. use of pet names : angel , sweet girl , good girl.

towards the back of the church, you sit next to ellie during the evening service. her warm palm covers most of your thigh, thumb rubbing gentle circles into your skin. it’s secret moments shared in plain sight that get you going, that make your heart flutter and knees weak. 

it’s moments like these that increase the doubts you are having about your faith – not like ellie knows, and absolutely not like you would ever tell her. she is your lover, and you have trusted her with so much, but she could never understand this. she’s dedicated her life to the church like it’s her purpose, and you’re haunted by it.

so even as you feel yourself losing sight of the need for salvation, and as you find that you can only feel happy and free once you let go of religion, you will sit through every mass. you will pray with her. you will continue to live this hidden, shameful life, living with the knowledge that nobody else would approve of the way you love ellie.

and it gets difficult, hiding it. you’ve lived in fear, hiding the secret of your sexuality for so long, but ellie’s warmth and her gentle touch is something you wish you could show off.

the service ends, and ellie stays back as she often does to talk to anyone who needs her guidance. you sit and wait for her in the pews, growing impatient, and growing guilty as your thoughts run wild and you realise what an apostate you have become.

you fidget in your seat, antsy and itching for ellie to come back to you, so you’ll be alone once more, and free to feel her touch and her kiss that you so desperately crave. but she’s having a chat with her neighbour paisleigh, of course, who is asking ellie with some not-so-subtle judgement when she’s going to settle down to become a typical housewife. you scoff at such an idea.

ellie? settling down with a man? that’s laughable.

but watching her talk with paisleigh, the way her chapped lips move and the moonlight shining through a stained glass window hits her eyes, you need that kiss more than ever.

almost on autopilot, you trail towards ellie, standing beside her with a blank face.

she interrupts paisleigh for a moment, turning to you, there’s always that undeniable look of adoration in her eyes, how she always tries to make time for you, and be attentive towards you, and it curls the corners of your lips upwards.

“you alright?” ellie asks, quirking a brow in your direction, “somethin’ wrong or you’re just bored?”

and you realise you’re actually not sure why you came up to ellie – or, you do know, but it’s not something you could ask right now. so you just grab her hand instead of replying, and ellie’s gaze hardens. in an attempt to appear professional, she squeezes your hand before dropping it.

“is something wrong?”

“uh…”

paisleigh utters something under her breath, something that sounds a little mean, before she speaks up. “i should get going. i will see you tomorrow.”

“for sure,” ellie nods, smiling. “see you.”

and ellie doesn’t even spare you a glance, waiting until paisleigh exits the church. you’re alone, the church is empty, and it’s so silent you could hear a pin drop.

at this point, it’s a matter of who will break the silence, but ellie beats you to it. you know she’s not happy – she’s always bitching the second you come close to even subtly showing love to her when someone else is around.

“jealous or something?” ellie says, crossing her arms. she leans against a pew, crossing her ankles. “couldn’t handle hearin’ about me possibly settling down? or were you just in the mood to get us caught?”

“ellie, it’s not like that, i just–”

“then what was it like?” ellie challenges, raising her eyebrows. she’s got a real mean streak, and it only comes out when she wants to protect you.

“it was- j-just– i just wanted to be close,” you mutter, looking down, a newfound meekness in your tone, “it was just me holding your hand, i–”

“and if someone takes you holding my hand the wrong way, then what? hm? you’re willing to lose everything just to hold my hand? what, you’re that desperate for some attention?”

“i wasn’t thinking, i just–”

you don’t know when ellie got so close to you, but her hand grabs your chin and lifts your face so she can stare into your eyes. there’s not much of anger there. you know what it is, it’s her own internal struggle, that she’s only taking out on you because she saw an opportunity.

“not thinking, huh?” ellie snorts, then caresses your cheek, a far cry from the callous tone she’s giving you. “poor girl, wanted me so bad, is that it?”

your lips are sealed, a doe look in your eyes that makes ellie smirk. 

“talk. you wanted me, hm? use your words.”

“i just wanted a kiss,” you say quietly, “or at the very least, j-just a hug.”

“awe,” ellie croons, pulling you close. her heart isn’t calm like usual and you can hear it, the harboured speed she gained in fear of your secret being revealed. she’s warm as ever, her hands on your waistline and chin resting on your shoulder. “well here’s your hug, angel. but you know what i think?”

“...what?”

“you’ve forgotten where the fuck we are.”

ellie pulls away from you, and shoves you in the direction of the altar, causing you to gasp and catch yourself with your arms on the white table.

“we are in a place of worship. in the house of god, sweet girl, do you know what god thinks of people like us?”

you look down at your hands. “we’re… sinners.”

“that’s right,” ellie hums in approval. she ends up behind you, a hand gripping your throat to pull your back against her chest. “we’re sinners. and you went as far as to want me, to be thinking these kinds of thoughts during our service, in which we are to honour him. if you’re that much of a whore, i’ll give you what you want right here, right now.”

you splutter, quick shock taking over completely. “i- wha- here? in church? ellie, y- we can’t, this isn’t priv–”

“nobody’s watching,” ellie murmurs into your ear, leaving a kiss right where your shoulder meets your neck. “nobody except god himself. so why don’t i teach you a little lesson, show god how sorry you are?”

oh.

oh.

“i…”

ellie’s hand slides down your neck and to your back, pushing, pushing, until you’re bent over the altar. she tugs at the hem of your dress with one hand, the other trailing up the back of your thigh, leaving goosebumps in its wake like little electric sparks.

“let this punishment be our prayer. our repentance,” ellie suggests, holding your dress up. a finger traces slowly over the outline of your panties, such a feather light touch you almost don’t feel it, until she’s tugging them down and letting them pool on the floor over your mary janes. “remind me, what are we?”

you’re preoccupied, trembling over the altar and mulling over in your mind the way the air brushes against the heat in your cunt. 

preoccupied, until there’s a stinging pain spreading over your ass, and a slap echoing through the empty church, followed by your own yelp.

“i said,” ellie speaks through gritted teeth, repeating herself, “what are we?”

“sinners,” you answer, voice wavering. “so sorry, i– ah!”

another spank, right on the other ass cheek this time. ellie chuckles, her large hands kneading over soft skin to soothe the sting of it.

“we are sinners, and we always beg for forgiveness, don’t we, my angel? so how dare you–” the word dare is punctuated by another spank over the middle of your ass. “-think something so sinful in a time where we are supposed to be holy?"

a pathetic mewl whines past your lips and you tremble even more, “i’m sorry, ellie, but the–”

“don’t be apologising to me,” ellie says, chuckling. she cups your cheeks in her hands from behind, tilting your head up. your eyes focus on the large wooden crucifix hanging on the back wall of the cathedral. “apologise to him.”

“oh,” you whisper, the heat of embarrassment bubbling inside your stomach, rising to your face. “yes. of course.”

ellie’s face appears beside you, a soft kiss pressing against your shoulderblade. “i love you,” she whispers, and she loses sight of herself for a moment – forgetting where her values are, forgetting her internal battles for just a moment to show you something tender, a warning, a reminder that she is playing.

and just when you think the harsher treatment is over, she gives you this short warning that almost doesn’t register in your mind. she slaps your cunt, and she laughs at the way you buck your hips away from her hand.

“this is not going to be gentle. you didn't think your punishment was over, did you?” ellie teases, two fingers spreading open the soaking folds, gathering creamy slick over the pads of her digits. she lives for every reaction you have, every shudder and every little gasp. “tell me, sweet girl, what happens if you sin?”

“y-you’re damned,” you reply, trying to focus your gaze over the cross, and your back arches when two of ellie’s fingers slowly slide inside. “damned to hell.”

“yes,” ellie answers, an audible strain in her voice, where she grits her teeth over the feeling of your walls clenching around her long digits. “and is there a way to save yourself?”

“by… oh, el– by looking to god,” you say. your voice is barely above a whisper, but ellie nods anyway, slowly beginning to move her fingers. “and by apologising, a-and seeking forgiveness from the lord, and y-you can be absolved of s– ffuck.”

ellie is hardly listening to your answer at this point. you can’t see her, but if you could, the look on her face would be tantalising enough. lip pulled between her teeth, thick brows burrowed over narrowed eyes as she watches her fingers coat with your wetness.

“you’re right,” ellie whispers, flitting her gaze up to the back of your head again. “so what are you gonna say now, angel? do you want to be an angel? or keep being a whore?”

“i-i’m sorry, lord,” you plead, a moan choking out as ellie speeds up her pace, thrusting in your pussy, squelching, wet sounds echoing in the church and increasing your embarrassment. “please f-forgive me, for disrespecting you, in a t-time meant for w– ellie!”

the shriek comes as ellie’s free hand spanks your ass again, and she growls, “now apologise for both of us. like we always do.”

you nod, panting softly, but there aren’t many words coming to mind at the moment. think, think, we pray every time. this shouldn’t be hard.

ellie’s fingers slide in and out of you, and she smirks when she feels your clench around her again. the pace is so fast you can’t keep up, and her fingers pound so roughly it almost burns. a knot builds in your stomach, tears in your eyes.

pulled out of your daze, ellie rips a cry out of you as she grabs a fistful of your hair and tugs your head upwards to look at the cross after noticing your head fall. she keeps her grip tight. a hot tear slides down your cheek.

“aw, angel, this shouldn’t be hard,” ellie coos, almost as though she read your mind. “are you sorry?”

“yes, yes,” you whine, hands holding onto the edge of the altar for stability. “please, oh f-fuck, ellie.”

“please? please what, angel?” ellie asks, smirking. “you’re not cumming until you can show god you’re sorry for this.”

“i’m sorry!” you cry, a tear or two dripping onto the white tablecloth on the altar. “please, lord, f-forgive us, we have- are sinning, again, a-and- ahh, mmff,..”

ellie almost rolls her eyes, a large grin on her face that she can’t wipe off for the life of her – you can’t get a full sentence out, and she’s proud.

“please guide us, and p– protect us from future error,” you continue, “thank you for your f-forgiveness.”

“good,” ellie murmurs, easing up some of her relentless pace only to make you more comfortable, “keep cryin’, maybe your tears’ll convince someone to believe you.”

you can’t bother to reply, though ellie’s finally, for once, acknowledged how unapologetic you both are. not sorry, just guilty.

“el– ellie, i’m going to– mm, right, yea, like that please-”

ellie releases her grip on your hair, and hooks a strong arm around you. she laughs as your cunt twitches when her hand begins rubbing at your puffy clit, now with nothing on her mind but the goal of making you cum.

it doesn’t take long after that. a cord in your stomach snaps, unravelling as you shake and tremble and jitter, loud, lewd moans filling the silence of the empty church.

pulling away, leaving your wrecked hole empty, her fingers poke at your lips. as you still come down from such intensity, ellie lets you lean against her while your lips part and take her fingers in, sucking the slick off of them. 

“good girl,” ellie whispers, her other hand smoothing your dress down and patting your ass. “you’ll make a perfect angel, so obedient like that.”

you hum around ellie’s fingers, hands lazily grabbing at her wrist, half lidded eyes trained on the veins in her hand.

“i need you to do one more thing for me, can you do that?” ellie asks, taking her fingers out of your mouth. she kisses the corner of your lips, and then grips your shoulders, beginning to push you down. “kneel.”

glassy eyes peering up at ellie, tear stained cheeks and a small pout on your lips, she grunts and reaches for her belt. “ah, fuck...”

she’s ruined you. 

unzipping her pants, ellie takes down both the slacks and her grey boxers at once. there’s no time to process anything before she’s got a hand on the back of your head, gently prompting you to move closer, enticing you towards her messy cunt.

ellie looks down at you, huffing a breath out of her nose when she meets your eyes. “c’mere, angel, let me mess up that pretty face even more. just– aw, shit, uh-huh.”

your nose tickled by auburn bush, you press your face against her and flick your tongue out, lapping over her clit. the memory of your dwindling faith is hazy in this moment, nothing but ellie’s moans and taste filling your senses.

“that’s it,” ellie praises, leaning back against the altar to keep herself from growing weak. her hand begins to move your head, and you almost can’t keep up with it. “just so– mmm, ffuck yeah, shit, you’re so fuckin’ pretty.”

hands folded in your lap, there isn’t much you can do but take this, especially when ellie begins rutting her hips towards you. lips and tongue melting between thrusts and the hand moving you up and down, meeting ellie’s pulsing cunt, tasting her essence.

“sh– fuck,” ellie grunts, staring down at you, pretty green eyes jaded in pleasure, bushy brows knit together, and chapped lips groaning explicit praise while she teeters on the edge of orgasm.

“so, so, nnng, s-so fucking good, that’s my girl.”

your desperate whimpers vibrating through ellie’s core are what does it. she fucks her pussy against your face with a guttural moan, head tipped back in pleasure.

and when it’s all over, she lifts you to your feet, redresses herself. chuckling at the sight of your wrecked face, lips and chin covered in spit and slick, ellie kisses you with the gentlest affection.

“good girl, you handled that so well. hm, shit, you’re messy.”

looking for something to clean you off with, the only thing ellie can find around is holy water. smirking, she pours some onto her hands, and massages it over your face.

“amen,” she whispers, nodding her head.

and ellie’s smile grows genuine when half lidded eyes meet her own, and you bow your head.

“amen.”

tags: @dinasvampgf @fadedin2u @eurewili @diddiqueen @machetegirl109 @craz1er4you @divinediorss @onlinelesbo @thecowardwrites

i may consider a part 3 let me know if you want it :) it would be fluffier 😭 maybe they'd leave the church? mybe consummating a marriage iywim... hmm...

#ellie williams x reader #tlou2 x reader #ellie williams x fem reader #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ fanfic #ellie fanfic #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x yn #ellie x you #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #preacher!ellie

[thegnomelord]

Locker-room jokes

CW:NSFW MDNI, FTM reader and Gaz, frotting, oral, first times, masc terms (cock, cocklet, bottom growth) this is based off a post I saw somewhere and a talk I had with @embry-garrick . Author isn't trans so tell me if this sucks lol

Guys comparing dick sizes in the locker room is a joke as old as time. You'd never considered entertaining it as it always came off stupid to you. . . yet here you are.

The locker room is thankfully empty except for you and Gaz, the silence buzzing beneath your skin and leaving you awkwardly shifting your weight from one leg to the other. It's not like you two haven't seen each other naked before, God knows some of the communal showers on different bases were little bigger than shoe boxes, but the expectation to do more than just catch a glimpse — that makes you feel naked.

Agreeing to this had been easy, but now that it came time to put your words were your mouth was you realize you were too arrogant; You can't quite make yourself meet Gaz's gaze, eyes flickering from his face to the darkened lines beneath his pecks, to the sparce trail of body hair that disappears down beneath the towel wrapped around his hips before returning to his face, your cheeks burning.

"Oh, is someone nervous?" Gaz shows you mercy by sauntering closer, gun calloused hands finding their place on your hips and thumbs slipping beneath the towel's hem. "Scared you're not going to be able to rise to the occasion?" His voice has a teasing lilt to it as he snickers at his own words.

You open your mouth to speak but you're forced to bite your tongue when Kyle presses against you, chest to chest and skin to skin. He tilts his head back, your noses brushing together. "You know," His lips brush against yours, just a ghost and a promise something more should you listen to him. "You could just quit while you're ahead and save yourself the embarrassment."

Even the miniscule sensation of his lips on yours leaves your body wanting more, your ribs aching to be wrenched open so he can hold your heart in his hands. Damn tempter.

You ignore your body's wants, the knowledge of him testing you making something burn in your chest. "In your dreams." You repeat the same words that got you into this mess, the words that awakened his competitive streak.

You mimic him by gripping his hips and clutching the towel barely hanging around him. But there's a small tremor in your hands, anxiety nibbling on your nerves — You're treading new ground, the furthest you two ever got was drunken make out sessions and heavy groping in bathrooms or broom closets or Price's office that one time.

Kyle doesn't mention the tremble, your actions earning yourself a pleased grin from him. "Ooh, aren't you arrogant." Which is good; it wouldn't be fun if you were a wet rag about it. Kyle's fingers shift to skirt across your sides before gripping your towel tighter. "Tell you what, we take them off together, yeah?"

"Aren't you thoughtful." Your words make him grin, but you nod your head. "Fine—" You grip his towel, the muscles in your arm tensing. "One, two, three-"

You barely manage to say the last number before Kyle yanks the towel off your hips and tosses it carelessly on the nearby bench. You scramble to do the same, your hands suddenly your mortal enemies as you stumble around a bit while you feel his eyes on you before you manage to take his towel off.

Gaz knows he looks good, he's proud of his body, but the way your eyes travel across his frame — from his face to his chest, following the happy trail of sparce hair down his abdomen to his groin where the neatly trimmed pubic hair accentuates the length of his bottom growth— has blood rushing to his cock, has him feeling high as a kite.

He looks you over up and down, both to see your embarrassment grown and because he's pleased by what he sees. His eyes settles to your groin where a bush of hair partly obscures your own bottom growth, glancing between you and himself. "I reckon I'm bigger."

Something about the way he says it, like he's a jaguar that just caught a cayman, sparks something inside you. "Only because you're smooth as a baby's ass." You growl and push a hand between your bodies, trapping your cock between two fingers and spreading them slightly so it's fully on display. "I'm bigger." You can't help but press a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose, some of your arrogance coming back.

Kyle tries not to, but a pleased noise escapes his throat — you're definitely bigger, at least half an inch if not more. He's not willing to admit defeat that quickly, but fuck, the change in your attitude is a major turn on.

"Cheater." The accusation would be far more hurtful if he didn't press himself closer, one hand holding your shoulder, the other sliding down to hold his cocklet. "Just gotta-" But he doesn't stop there, slowly stroking the length of it between his fingers, thumb swirling across the tip. "-I'll show you big."

"Now who's cheating?" You snark, using your free hand to hold Kyle tightly so he doesn't lose his balance. You don't stop him, mesmerized by the way each languid stroke has his cock chubbing up a bit more, slick easing the glide as it glistens across his flushed flesh.

"You started it-hah!—" You pick the moment to grind your groin into his, the tip of your cocklet roughly grinding against his and forcing a small punched out noise from his lungs.

"Whoops." You grunt, pleasure starting to simmer in your veins as you grind your cock against his again. "Sorry, just needed to get the right angle." Your tone makes the lie obvious but you can't be bothered to make it sound believable, the combination of shifting of your hips and the slow movement of your hand as you stroke yourself at the same tempo as him has lightning rushing up your spine. "I'm still bigger than you."

"Bastard!" The curse morphs into a short laugh and finally into a moan that bounces off the tiled walls, his head tilting forward to place a sloppy and disorganized kiss on your cheek. Kyle pants against your skin, leaving crescent shaped bruises on your shoulder from how tightly he grips you. "Hold on, I just have to-" He moans again, rocking his hips to meet yours that has the sensitive heads of your cocklets bumping together. "-fuck- fuck- just, give me a minute it gets bigger."

"What's wrong Kyle, failing to rise to the occasion?" You have no idea how wet that smug tone of yours makes him, but with how obscenely loudly his slick squelches against his fingers, Kyle's sure you'll figure it out soon. "Here, let me help you."

It's Kyles turn to be surprised when you push him into one of the stalls, his back meeting the cold tiles of the shower. "What are you planning?" He grunts, a yelp escaping him when you suddenly grab his thighs, picking up and bending him nearly in half until your head's cradled between his thighs and his cock's inches away from your mouth. The years of gymnastics makes the position possible, the numb pain of muscles deep in his back stretching making the pleasure so much sharper.

You blow cold air across his sensitive cocklet, watching it twitch with need. "Relax, just getting a better look." The way his thighs shake when you lick a slow stripe up his cock has your mind buzzing, the needy sound that breaks past his lips sweet as honey to your ears. "I'm gonna help you get as big as you can." It's hard to look away from his cock but you force yourself to look up at Gaz, resting his cocklet against your lips. "It's only fair."

"You-" Whatever he wanted to say next is cut off when you take his entire cock in your mouth, resting it on your tongue for a few moments before you suck. "-oh fuck!" His hands scramble to find purchase on your shoulders, gripping your hair as he hunches over, his mouth right next to your ear so you can head a moan leave him — deep and low and so desperate.

It makes you want to pull more of those sounds out of him. And you do — sloppily slurping on his cocklet for a few seconds only to pull off to lick it, alternating between slow strong swipes of your tongue across his entire shaft to small kitten licks on his tip. Occasionally you pull off entirely to blow cold air across it, keeping him teetering on that edge of pleasure, silencing the sounds of discontent with a few swipes near his hole before taking all of him into your mouth to repeat the cycle.

You don't know what's more intoxicating; You feel yourself grow drunk off the slightly sweet and musky taste of his slick that runs down your chin, the image of his abdominal muscles fluttering and thighs shaking from the building pleasure in his belly burned into your mind, Kyles babbles of "Yeah, like th- fuck, fuck, fuck- that- pleas-hah—" and calls of your name broken by moans and whimpers like the song of angels.

You feel him get closer to the edge, or at least you assume so by the way the grinding of his hips into your face grows erratic, your name being the only word that still clings to his brain as he chants it like a mantra, his fingers shaking from how tightly he grips your shoulders.

Kyle makes a sound like a wounded animal when you suddenly pull off, "-no-no-nono!" He cries, hips still bucking into the air with the need to tumble over the edge of pleasure, tears staining his cheeks as he manages to force out a weak glare. "Wh- why w-gh!- why?"

"We still have to compare." Your voice is rough like you'd been gurgling shards of glass, holding him steady as you lower him enough to wrap his legs around your waist, pressing your bodies together until you're smushing him into the wall.

He doesn't complain as the sudden move has your bottom growths rubbing against one another, and only now do you realize your body is as desperate as his. "Y- ah fuck- yeah right." There's still that fire in him, but now he uses it to grip the back of your skull and mush your lips together, ignoring the taste of himself on your lips. "Just-shit mh!- move."

Kyle's heels digging into your flank makes you rock forward, grinding your cocks together. Your slick mixes together, your pubic hair sticking to his skin and tickling the sensitive flesh of his cock with every thrust. He openly moans into your mouth, licking in and around your open mouth, trying to clean off the slick staining your skin but only making a bigger mess as spit now mixes with his juices.

Kyle feels like he's burning up, like he's just a puddle of please — the pace you set is rough and your kisses are sloppy and desperate and it feels like Heaven. Gaz wraps all four limbs around you tightly yet he still gyrates his pelvis to meet yours, every nerve in your bodies feeling like a live wire as pleasure builds and builds until it's ready to spill over.

"Fuck- Kyle-" You grunt, your fingers leaving bruises on his flesh, his back sliding up and down against the tiles as you increase your pace, every brush of his flesh against yours banging on your skull. "I'm -mhm- close."

"Mh- me too-" He slurs against your lips, kissing you until both of you are gasping for air. "please-please-please-love- make us cum, plea- ah fuck!—" Kyle shouts as his orgasm finally crashes into him, toes curling and head tilting to bite your shoulder in an attempt to silence himself as he cums, hole fluttering around nothing and cock throbbing as slick runs down his thighs.

The pain and pleasure comes for you a second later, you grip him so harshly you can feel his bones groan as you cum too, your hips grinding together to prolong the mind numbing pleasure, your teeth finding his shoulder as you bite down as well.

You don't know how the Hell you're still standing by the time you come down from your high, every muscle in your body straining like you'd just went through a suicide mission. Kyle's no better, shaking like a leaf and completely boneless in your arms, panting into your neck.

You kiss the bite mark you've left on his shoulder, gently bumping your head into his to gain his attention, "Kyle?" You ask, "Are you alright?"

"Fuuuuck lovie," Kyle groans, barely able to lift his head enough to give you a sloppy kiss on the cheek. "That was good." His fingers idly scratch your scalp, the low rasp of his fucked out voice makes your cock twitch half-heartedly but you're too worn out to get aroused again. "Remind me to blow you when I can feel my legs again."

Yeah, he's alright.

A small laugh breaks past your lips and you give him a similarly sloppy kiss. "I will." Somehow you manage to sit down on the floor, Kyle laying on top of you, as content as a spoiled cat.

"Just so you know." He whispers into your ear, his fingers slowly sliding across your sides, thumbs rubbing lazy absentminded circles into your skin. "I want a do-over of this contest." He grins, and fuck, you can't get past how handsome he looks like that. "Maybe in my room, yeah?"

You can't refuse. "Yeah."

#lol all you hear next is Johnny or Ghost clearing his throat going like “You two have fun?” #cod mw2 #x reader #male reader #top male reader #trinkets from the hoard #centerpieces of the hoard #kyle gaz garrick x male reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick x male reader #kyle gaz smut #ftm reader #ftm character #ftm ns/fw #cod modern warfare #cod x male reader #cod x reader #bottom cod x male reader #cod x you #18+ mdni