#so why go through all the effort and see that she fucked up the numbers and bring that to me so solemnly like

[suncoved]

RAFE, SCARY? PFFT ! — RAFE CAMERON

pairing; boyfriend!rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: you had the most loving, sweet, precious boyfriend in the world. so why were your new found friends so scared of him?

prompt: “you let anything happen to her and i’ll fucking kill you, alright?”

you could barely contain your happiness as you applied your 5th layer of glittery lipgloss on your lips, holding the decorated pink tube in your manicured fingers. you batted your eyelids at the clock hung on rafe's wall.

kiara told you to be there at 8:00 and it was currently 7:30.

but you didn't want to be late, so leaving now was a good plan for you.

you had never met kiara's friends before. you had been best friends with her your whole life, but after she and sarah split, they told you you had to pick a side. and you would never tell sarah that the main reason you picked her was because of her psychotic older brother who was always roaming aimlessly around tannyhill.

sarah was your best friend, and you wouldn't trade her for the world.

but you couldn't help but ponder over what would have happened if you picked kiara, what life you would have had.

you missed her, truly. so when faced with the oppurtity to reconnect with her through your mothers exchanging numbers on one random night at the wreck, you took it.

and before you knew it she was inviting you to come down to the boneyard with some of her friends from the cut, to which you accepted gratefully.

you were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard the bathroom door click open, the steam rolling out from underneath it like a tidal wave. you turned your head softly at the noise, placing the lipgloss applicator quickly back in the tube.

beads of water trickled down his v line, escaping into the beige towel wrapped around his waist into a place you didn't even have the time to imagine. he lifted his hand up to his head, running a hand through his now brown hair that had darkened from getting wet under the stream of water.

"quick rafe we have to go!" you whined, trying to avoid eye contact with the 6'2 tall build distraction in front of you. you shuffled around the room, going into his closet and picking out clothes for him to quickly put on since he insisted — well — demanded, on driving you down to the boneyard.

you shoved the clothes into his hands, his hand making contact with yours momentarily, creating a spark between the two of you. your cheeks flushed as you quickly looked away, turning around and taking a seat at the foot of the bed.

you watched as he made no effort to move, a smirk you know all too well gracing his face. "rafe, i mean it. get changed" you groaned as you pushed your palms into the soft covers of his king sized bed.

"if you wanted to see me naked baby, you could just say that."

your cheeks quickly turned into the darkest shade of pink you could imagine, your hands quickly reached up to your face, covering your eyes as you huffed softly.

he scoffed at your movements, reaching over to spread your fingers apart so you could see through them. "im just joking ma, you've seen it all before." he winked, moving back to see the full sight of him while lifting his bicep up and flexing it in your face.

you jokingly rolled your eyes, falling onto the bed so you were now staring at the ceiling. your fingers found their way to each other, nervously intertwining as you thought.

you heard rafe shuffling around near his closet, his fly ziping up and the clink of his belt being melody to your ears. "what if they don't like me?"

your voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. if rafe wasn't listening he definitely would have missed it. but he always listens.. to you.

"impossible" he stated simply, using a tone that left no room for discussion. he didn't use that tone often, but when he did, you stayed quiet.

you chewed on your bottom lip, knitting your brows together.

you were so lucky to have rafe in your life. he was kind, caring and patient and always knew how to calm your anxiety.

honestly, you were surprised he let you go down to the beach with the pogues in the first place. you tried your best to keep out of that whole kook-pouge turf war as best as possible. to you, it was immature, unnecessary and just pointless. but it had been around on the island since before you could remember.

though, it was safe to say that you and rafe didn't see eye to eye on that topic. he didn't like the pogues, not one bit. and he made that very, very clear.

he knew how much you loved kiara, and how your face lit up when your mother's voice echoed through rafe's car speakers when she called you after seeing kiara's mother.

it took him longer to warm up to the idea that you would be seeing her whole friend group, which consists of just pogues, and most importantly, jj maybank.

there was nothing more rafe hated than jj maybank.

yet, he knew how happy this would make you. and he was willing to do this, for you. only for you.

"ready bubs" rafe announces, smoothing his polo down haphazardly and stuffing his feet into his shoes. he hears you pulling yourself up and off his bed, your socked feet padding over to him and resting your head on his chest.

he smiles and he brings his arms around your body. sighing contently as he places a kiss on your head before resting his chin on you. "they are gonna love you, like everyone loves you. don't think for a second that they won't"

you giggle against him, somehow trying to push yourself further into him, which was impossible.

"no im being serious baby, i have some serious competition." rafe huffed, pulling himself back from you and looking at your face peering up at him.

"shut up" you joke, your cheeks burning as you blushed at his words. he leaned down until his lips met yours, bringing his fingers to your chin and lifting your head up.

you two melted into each other, your sweet strawberry lipgloss coating his lips quickly. he didn't care though, he was kissing you. so nothing else mattered.

you were losing yourself in his touch, not noticing he was slowly pushing you back until your calfs hit the back of his dark oak bed frame and your body eventually fell against the soft fabric of his covers.

he slipped his hand up your lacy white cami, dragging his fingers up and down the soft skin of your stomach. he detached his lips from yours as his cold slender fingers slipped under the wire of your bra, kissing his way down your neck and chest.

you bit your now chapped lips as you looked down the the brunette boy making goosebumps appear over your skin. you threw your head back against his pillow closing your eyes and opening them again as your head lulled to the side.

your eyes fixated to the clock resting on his wall, reading 7:54. your mind ticked for a second before realising where you needed to be in exactly six minutes, gasping rather dramaticlly.

rafe's head snaps up to look at you, his eyes hooded with worry and hunger at the same time. it was only when he followed your eyes to his sleek white clock that he realised what had happened.

he rolled his eyes and he pulled your shirt back over your stomach, leaving one last searing kiss before smoothing the material down.

"rafe we have to go, now. now!" you whisper yelled almost slipping and you tried to put on your shoes while you hobbled out of his bedroom.

"baby, baby." he spoke, hopping up and walking quickly after you. he reached out to your waist holding you stable so you didn't slip over and hurt yourself.

"ok, ok. ill be careful. lets just go!" you gasped, trying to wiggle out of his firm grip. he chuckled as he let go, watching as you speed down the stairs of tannyhill and down to his white jeep parked out the front.

it was a fairly uneventful ride down to the boneyard, rafe's hand resting on your bouncing leg the whole time, slightly soothing the nervous feeling arising in your chest.

"c'mon baby, we're here" he voiced, opening his car door before quickly jumping out and circling the car before he opened yours for you. your eyes drifted down to the beach as rafe helped you out of his rather tall car.

a blonde boy with a backward cap resting on his head sat on a log with two other boys around your age, beers resting in their hands as they talked. your eyes followed along the beach where you saw kiara picking up trash along the shore, smiling brightly to yourself.

rafe intertwined his hand with yours, tightly squeezing it as he narrowed his eyes at the people on the beach. "you don't have to drink yeah? just tell them no, ok?" rafe spoke.

you nodded softly, peering up at him through your lashes to see his face stern and menacing.

you began walking first, dragging rafe softly behind you as your shoes hit the soft sand below you. you kept your eyes glued to your feet the whole way until you heard voices now crystal clear echoing through your ears.

"hey, you made it!" kiara exclaimed, bringing her arms around you as you let go of rafes hand. "hi kie" you murmured into her shoulder, embracing her into a soft hug.

"hey, rafe. what're you doing down these parts?" the blonde boy asked, standing up from his spot on the large log he was sitting down on before. you saw rafe tick his jaw to the side as you pulled away from kiara, his tongue sliding through the front of his teeth.

"just dropping her off maybank, not here to stay" rafe remarked, turning his attention to you as he leaned down and placed a kiss on your cheek, ghosting his hands over your sides as he pulled back from you.

"call me when you need me to pick you up yeah?" rafe said, keeping his eyes on you as you nodded hastily. he smiled sweetly at you, watching as kiara grabbed your hand a pulled you down to the shore, showing you the tiny baby turtles rushing into the water in front of you.

"hey jj" rafe said, turning his head to the boy standing a few feet from him, not daring to come any closer. rafe watched as he nodded cautiously, pursing his lips together as to almost prepare himself for what rafe was about to say.

rafe took a few steps before he reached jj, grabbing the fabric of his shirt and hoisting him up until they were face to face.

“you let anything happen to her and i’ll fucking kill you, alright?"

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks #obx #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks

[risuola]

CALL IT DOUBLE TROUBLE — F. READER x GOJO SATORU & GETO SUGURU, who have a habit of sharing everything

It’s been a while since you last saw your college ex-boyfriend Gojo and a Halloween party led to your reconnection. It was cool to see him again, although your break-up was messy. What turned out to be a plot twist, was that he now has a handsome best friend and together, they are deadly.

cw: smut, exes to lovers, strangers to lovers, threesome, double penetration, praise, cum play, oral (f & m receiving), su*cide is mentioned (no description, just brief mention), reader discretion is advised — 6k words

masterlist

a/n: with that post I'm concluding the kinktober - sorry about the delay! work overwhelmed me, it sucked the life out of me, but I'll be getting back to writing now, so stay tuned! also, we hit 1300 followers, so I just want to say thank you so much for being here and reading the shit I post!

You were never that big on parties – you found them mostly annoying with the masses pushing and pulling all around you, drunk assholes that never seem to understand how consent works and even more drunk girls, that throw themselves at anyone slightly attractive. At least that’s how you remember every party you were on during your college years. You experienced firsthand how much effort men can put into chasing a hem of a mini skirt and you also saw in real life, how women were flexing their assets just to get into the pants they want. Unfortunately, usually pants that were in the biggest demand, were coincidentally belonging to your boyfriend. Uh, yeah, maybe that’s why you don’t really like parties.

Dating Satoru Gojo was a blessing, in some parts – he was just lovely to you. He was caring, to some extent, he was sweet-talking you into everything he wanted, and his arrogance always seemed to fly right over your head, but you loved him for longer than he deserved. You trusted him to not sleep with those eagerly spreading girls and he never did. At least that’s what you like to believe. Flirting with them – that was a different story. Satoru was an attention whore, really. He was basking in the gazes glued to him, the salivating mouths were feeding his already enormous ego and he seemed to have the time of his life pulling the strings of those poor, naïve girls that every time believed him when he told them they are just so pretty. His crystalline blue eyes were capable of turning lesbians into straight and straights into gay. The number of suggestive pictures he posed for flooded your social media each time after the parties you attended with him, and not one of those pictures he’s ever taken with you. And then, after leaving the frat houses and clubs, he would tell you how lucky you are to have him, how all of those silly girls were offering him their pussies oh so eagerly. He’d tell you how they envied you. All while he’d fuck you. You spent two years with him, then came the break-up and just as everything that involved Satoru was messy – so was your parting.

You really had no pleasure in partying, after freeing yourself from the toxicity of Gojo, you finally found peace. You flew through college with ease and after it ended, you found yourself quite a nice job – you were okay without attending any kinds of alcohol and loud music related people gatherings. That’s until Shoko called you earlier that month, practically begging you to pay her a visit on Halloween. She was in the city, having her family house all to her disposal due to her family being on a trip somewhere warm. It was a party where all of your college, mutual friends were going to be, a little reconnection if you will and she insisted you show up as well. It really sounded lovely to see where all of your friends landed in lives. With some you still had a regular contact, but some just went their ways and you rarely crossed paths with them, so you agreed to be there. That was a perfect opportunity to catch up and you were excited.

For some unknown reason, not even once you considered Gojo to be there as well. You just kind of pushed the memory of him to the back of your head, you removed him from the picture of your mutual circle of friends and completely you forgot that he’ll most likely be there as well. You realized it when Shoko asked you about him.

“Have you seen Gojo already?”, her tone was quite cautious when she mentioned the name to you, and with the way you looked at her from above your dying cigarette, she spoke again, “You know he’s gonna be there as well, don’t you?”

“Guess I blacked out that possibility,” you mumbled, shrugging softly to shake off the uneasiness of the thought and killing the cig in the sink before throwing it away. “No, I haven’t seen him and I hope it will stay that way.”

“Oh, you’re still wounded after him?”

“No, Sho, I’m not wounded,” you grabbed yourself a red cup from the array on one of the tables in the kitchen. You had no idea what concoction of liquid courage was inside every each of them, but you really couldn’t care less. If that was one of your first parties in years, you were not going to be picky and you trusted Shoko enough to not have death in those cups. “I’m really not. Thing is… I don’t know, it’s been so many years, I’m not really sure what to even tell him. We broke up in a mess that wasn’t addressed ever since, so you know.”

“Yeah, right, I remember the insanity of that action. Gojo was haunting my dreams for two weeks after the suicidal stunt he pulled off.” Ieiri flinched at the memory but laughed right after realizing how stupid all of that was. “He was a drama queen, we have to give him that.”

“See?”

“Well, you’ll most likely see him anyway, so just a hi will be good.”

“Noted.”

She left you to greet someone, and you shook your head, hoping to get rid of the flashbacks, but they were inevitable, you guessed it. Long time after ending things with Gojo you couldn’t find peace after what happened. You think you will forever remember the argument that unraveled after you told him you’re breaking up with him. There was so much screaming, your head pounded with pain for two days straight after that. Nothing more than accusing of the most bizarre shits and poison was spilling from his mouth when, for the first time, Satoru Gojo was informed that someone else is leaving him. Usually, it was him who ended things up, it was him who was cutting the strings and he was too immature back then to come to terms that other people are also entitled to just go away. You remember he went completely feral, almost psychotic as he was laughing at some point, throwing ironic insults at you as if it was gonna make you stay. He had to prove a point that it’s not you who want to leave him. It’s him who want to break up and you just accidentally happened telling him that before he managed to do so. After that, he threatened you that he will kill himself and he made it everybody’s problem – you had to know it, Shoko had to know it and every single one of your friends had to know it as well. You heard from Ieiri that after about three weeks he got back to being his usual arrogant playboy, as if he didn’t just cause drama of the century. He moved on. Traumatized everyone around him, but moved on nonetheless. Now you found the situation kind of funny. You were just kids and you were not meant to be together. That’s just how life works and you wondered sometimes if Satoru learned a little more life after that or did he stay the same.

Sighing again, you took the cup and slipped in between people in the living room, stepping outside to breathe some fresh air on the terrace, thankful that no one was there. Or so you thought and no wonder you almost jumped out of your own skin when you heard a voice right next to you.

“Fire?” He asked, after a moment of watching you search for the lighter in the pockets of your makeshift schoolgirl uniform. The unlit cigarette in your mouth betraying what you were looking for.

His tone was soft, saccharine sweet and calm at the same time and as you looked up at him, it somewhat matched the picture that met your eyes. The man was tall and broad, dressed all in black with dress pants and a hoodie. His sleeves half up, exposing the veiny forearms as he was keeping his lighter visible, ready to give you a hand.

“Yes, please,” you replied finally, leaning into the fire he opened and with relief you take the first breath in. You were not a smoker in your day-to-day life. One pack of cigarettes lasted you a year, but it was Shoko’s influence that today made you poison your lungs more than usual. “Thanks.”

“I’m Suguru. Geto Suguru,” he introduced himself, offering you his palm and you gave it a short squeeze, telling him your own name. You couldn’t find his face in your memories, and you’d like to think that such handsome features would tattoo themselves into your brain in one way or another. He had to come with someone else, you figured. Probably a boyfriend or a husband even. You couldn’t care less about asking. “Enjoying the party?”

“I’m not big on parties, really,” you shrugged, keeping your gaze away from him because hell, he made it so easy to stare with his long luscious, black hair resting over his shoulders and back, half tied up in a little bun just to get them out of his face. You couldn’t tell what his costume was, he had some kind of alternative style going on, slightly rocker vibes with his pierced ears and silver chains hanging from his neck, but it might have as well be his usual style – he looked good in it. He most certainly looked like a big, red flag but hell was the flag attractive.

“I see. Well, I’m not either,” he confessed, huffing out a greyish cloud of smoke out of his lungs and by the smell of it, you could tell it wasn’t nicotine.

“What you’re smoking?”

“Weed, why? Wanna try it?” It was an offer that you should politely say no to, but it was your first and probably last party in a while, so you asked yourself why not and took the joint from his fingers.

“So, you’re here with someone?” you questioned, just to keep the conversation going once you gave him the smoke back. You could feel the unfamiliar but somehow pleasant burn in your lungs after the drag you took and slowly you blew the fume out. Suguru found the view attractive. Sharing a joint with you felt a little more intimate than it should have, the way your lips wrapped around the brownish paper made him wonder how would they look wrapped around something else. Thoughts like this shouldn’t bloom in his head right after he’s met you, not when he’s an adult man, not a stupid kid anymore, but some things couldn’t be stopped.

“Yeah,” he inhaled once more, deeply enough to kill the joint and throw it away. You watched for a moment how he kept the smoke in his lungs, letting it go after a moment. The cloud escaping through his mouth and nose in a soft stream. Fuck, what a gorgeous man. Whoever was the girl that got him had to be lucky. “You know him, he told me about you.”

Oh, never mind.

“He? Ah, fuck, don’t tell me you came here with that idiot,” you reached down for your cup that few moments prior you put on the ground while searching for a lighter.

“Ow, you’re hurting my feelings, sweetheart.”

And there he was. You wondered where that tower of an asshole hid.

Once you look back at Geto, there was also Satoru. He was standing next to his friend slash partner, with his forearm propped over Suguru’s shoulder as he looked at you from above the black glasses, with the very familiar grin painted on his face. Gojo changed a lot since you last saw him. He was now buffier, seemed even taller than you remembered, and his facial features matured – his jaw became more square, eyes a little more lidded and even the smirk on his lips seemed less playboy-ish and more menacingly manly. He lost his princess looks and became a man. You wondered if his character changed as well, because you could still see him using his looks to take what he wanted.

“Oh, do I?” You questioned, eyeing him up and down. His clothes were almost exactly the same as Geto’s – only difference being the light color and the fact his sweatshirt had no hood. What he was wearing completely contrasted to what his friend had on and it made sense if they were here together. Black and white, like yin and yang. You had no idea if they were here as friends or lovers, but either way, you wouldn’t be surprised.

“You sure do,” Satoru shook his head, his smile now more friendly as he approached you, entrapping you in a hug that surely took you by surprise. “It’s good to see you, beautiful.”

“You too,” you guessed, not completely convinced about what you just said but you let it be.

“I’m sorry. I have to say it before you run away from me. I’m really sorry, I was a dick when we were dating,” Gojo’s voice reached your ears directly, but you had a hard time believing what you were hearing. He was never a type to apologize for anything. Please, sorry and thank you is a set of words that you were certain he never used and yet there he was, saying just that. He really evolved. Or he wanted something.

“Yeah, you were. Hope you’re not anymore,” you chuckled softly, brushing your hand over his side.

“I try not to be,” he confessed quietly, pressing a tender kiss to the side of your neck before letting go of you. He shouldn’t have kiss you like that, but the feeling of longing was way stronger than him. Even if for a moment, he had to just have a little taste of you.

Ever since you broke up, Gojo had no idea how much he missed having you in his arms. Up until that night he was okay with some random girls coming into and getting out of his bed with no strings attached. He seemed to be unable to form a lasting relationship after you, you were his first and last girlfriend that he committed to for so long, no matter how poorly. Even if he was nothing but an asshole to you, he often wished to marry you back in the college. Even if he couldn’t possibly show you how much he cared, because his childish behaviors were standing in the way of him reaching your heart properly, he really thought you will be the one and only in his life and even if he seemed to move on so quickly after you broke up with him, it was only for show. A cover up for the thunderstorm that was raging inside his chest, a band aid over the bleeding wound. No other girl was able to even half-fill the emptiness you left in his heart.

You were special to him and it thrilled him to the core when for the first time he heard from Shoko that you agreed to be there, because if it wasn’t for you, he wouldn’t show up as well. His time for partying finished along with his fourth year of college, when he realized there was less and less fun in drinking alcohol and forcing himself into flirting. When it came to you, he had never needed to force himself to do anything. He was just an immature kid when you dated, but he loved the time you gave him.

And now, you were still fitting perfectly into his body. As if he was made from memory foam that still remembered your shape. Now, you were still just as beautiful and breathtaking as he remembered you. In your little, schoolgirl mini skirt, thigh-high socks and a white button up shirt with a loosened tie you looked way sexier than you had a reason to. It’s been quite some time since he was that aroused from just looking at someone and you made him harder than he thought is possible. Fuck, what you were doing to him?

“So, what do you do now? Still living from party to party and from girl to girl?” You asked, taking a sip of your drink. It was strong and it really was better for you to take it in slowly, but there was a certain burn of nervousness tied to meeting your ex that you needed to drown.

“No, it’s in the past,” Satoru replied, inviting you inside, where all three of you found a nice place to sit on one of the couches. You landed between the two men. “I took the lead of my father’s company, Suguru’s my partner in crime. We’re doing good, I don’t party anymore. Honestly, if Shoko didn’t give me a sign that you will be there, I wouldn’t probably step by.”

“Oh, so you came to haunt me,” you joked, earning a soft chuckle from him.

“Yeah, kind of. Couldn’t reach you before and wanted to sort this whole mess out. I’m usually cool with having enemies, but you’re not someone I want to have as enemy.”

You gave his words a soft roll of your eyes. Maybe few years back you’d let yourself be sugarcoated into believing him, but not now. Maybe, just maybe, he matured a little, but some things will never change. Gojo was a flirt, is a flirt and probably will always be a flirt. But hell, was he cute. You cursed his innate ability to attract you from a mile.

“Sure, whatever,” you shrugged and the conversation after that was flowing nicely. You got to know Suguru, you learned who he is and why did he stick with Satoru. It was a friendship they developed that kept them together and maybe it was thanks to Geto that your ex wasn’t so much of an asshole anymore. Maybe it’s the brunette’s calm personality that somewhat grounded the playboy. Or maybe it was all an illusion. Yea, it had to be an illusion. There was no way that these two six-foot-three giants were not causing some troubles.

Yeah, they were a trouble. Double trouble, to be exact, and you got to learn that when the doors of one of many bedrooms on the floor closed behind you. You don’t even know how and why you agreed to go with them anywhere in the first place. You had no idea how on earth did Satoru sweet-talked you into fucking him again. For the old time’s sake, my ass. And more important, how did he sweet-talked you into fucking not only him, but also Suguru? At the same time?! You were not built for this, that’s for sure.

“Let’s have fun like we always did, yeah?” Gojo had this typical, shit-eating grin stretched on his face, when he was pulling you by the wrist onto the bed. Geto took his time and lit up another joint, opting to just stand and watch for now. He had a smirk on, his eyes were fixed on you, and you could tell that they weren’t new to sharing a woman. It really was obvious they did that before.

You had no time to think if that surprises you at all. Satoru was a stranger to patience. He never enjoyed waiting and always went straight for what he wanted, and this time was no exception.

“God, you look so fucking hot as a schoolgirl,” he muttered, burying his face into your neck, nibbing and kissing wet marks onto your skin whilst his fingers were already dealing with buttons of your white shirt. Your body acted on its own accord, responding to the red stains of his lips and the cold touch of his fingers with excitement that you felt for the last time when you were in college. It bothered you that you still were so receptive to the way he feels on you, you thought that you’re way over the Gojo effect but seems like you were gravelly wrong. “What a naughty one,” Satoru chuckled, his voice bordered a moan when he finally opened your shirt and your shapely tits, hugged beautifully by a lace bra entered his field of view. “Fuck, I missed those.”

“You’re talking too much,” you grabbed him by the hair, tugging the snow-white strands at the base of his neck and pushing his face down your neck and onto your chest, hoping it will shut him up. That was the issue with your ex. He really was a phenomenal lay but he was just talking so damn much. That was what ultimately pushed you over the edge when you were together back in the day. You just couldn’t stand listening about other women while he was with you.

“Maybe I am,” he chuckled, sucking a red spot onto one of your tits, earning himself another tug on the hair.

“Don’t mark me, idiot,” you warned him, but it was already too late and both of you knew it.

“My, my… so nervous. Let me help you relax,” Gojo smiled wide and made you lay flat on the bed. It took him no time to find his place between your thighs and before you even got a chance to react, he was already pulling your panties off of you. For a split second, your mind got distracted by the subtle scent of weed that’s filling the air. The smell that reminded you that it’s not only you and your ex in the room, but also another person.

“Don’t worry about me,” Geto smiled. Something mischievous lingered over his lips as he did before he took another drag. The joint between his fingers slowly but surely becoming smaller as he was saturating his lungs with the fumes, only to breathe them out after a moment.

“Are you not going to join?” You asked, your voice slightly breaking into a whine once Satoru flicked his tongue over your clit, reminding you how well he spoke the language of your body. He was fluent in your pleasure, you were never sure if it came to him with experience or was he just naturally gifted, but either way, he had a skill and was proud of it. He began eating you out like he was starving for the past decade. His tongue worked the puffy nub of nerves all the way around, he sucked and licked, slurped and kissed your cunt, causing your body to jolt in pleasure. He was purring while between your legs, his long fingers already working their way into your hole. The stretch was delicious, the symphony of his mouth and hands was slowly driving you insane.

“You’re so sweet,” Satoru mumbled, taking the pleasure away to smear some wet kisses along your inner thighs. “She’s so incredibly sweet, Suguru, you have to taste her,” he added, accentuating the thought with a bite onto the fat of your thigh. His friend just chuckled, making his way towards you and he handed you his half smoked joint.

“I’d love to,” Geto replaced your ex between your thighs. He kept looking into your eyes when he opened his mouth, presenting you with his pierced tongue. Little, metallic ball in the middle of the muscle glistened in the artificial lighting and it made you moan out loud, when he swiped it along your slit, gathering your juices. There was something absolutely intimidating about his calm demeanor, something nearly diabolic but it was exactly what attracted you to him. He was complete opposite to Satoru. He wasn’t bright and loud; his eyes weren’t big and vibrant. He looked mysterious, he kept himself quieter, his eyes kept the focus that Gojo couldn’t achieve. They really were made for each other.

“Oh god—,” your eyes nearly rolled back as he began working on your swollen clit ruthlessly. You had no idea if it was because of the piercing or was it just his skill, but it felt even better then when the snow-white was between your thighs. Or maybe it was just you being so turned on by him.

“You like it?”, your ex asked, grinning as he was taking the time to undress himself. “Knew you’re gonna enjoy it.”

You spared him the comment, losing the track of thoughts in the way Suguru was making you feel. You could have sworn you never felt something like this, he was just incredible with the way his tongue was engraving his own name into your clit. Cold metal of his piercing doubled down the pleasure you were receiving, contrasting with the heat of his muscle.

Your thighs began to tremble, your toes curled in, and you felt yourself quickly falling down the hole of ultimate lust. Euphoria was rushing through your veins; your heart was drumming in your chest as the smoke was leaving your lungs after the drag you took from the joint in your hand. Suguru was pushing you over the edge with such ease it felt illegal. You could feel him grinning proudly from his spot between your legs, you could feel his fingers gripping your hips with bruising strength, keeping them in place while he was slurping your soul straight from your weeping pussy.

Your orgasm exploded and you called out Suguru’s name. He didn’t stop. He kept drinking, thirsty for more of you as your juices coated his tongue and the bottom of his handsome face.

“You really do taste fucking sweet,” he commented, getting up and crawling above you. His lips were on yours the moment he reached your face. He tasted the smoke and you tasted yourself in that kiss. It didn’t last long, but the intensity of it made you almost dizzy. “Let’s get you out of this uniform.”

 It took just few moments until you were completely bare underneath the heavy gaze of two men around you. Satoru was just in his underwear, the tent in them painfully apparent and you knew him well enough that he won’t be able to wait much longer, but what bothered you was the fact that Suguru was still completely clothed. He looked sexy in his dark outfit, but he can look sexy in it later.

“Aren’t you a tease—” you muttered, once he got up from the bed to drown the rest of the joint in what little of alcohol was left in one of your cups on the bedside table. “Take this off.” You demanded, coming up to your knees and pushing his hoodie up.

“How demanding,” he laughed but complied and you managed to just blink twice before his god-like figure presented itself to you. A muscular, large body beautifully decorated with a dragon tattoo that wrapped its tail around his right bicep and spread on his back. You couldn’t decide what to focus on – his impressive musculature, the ink on his skin or the fact that even though he still had his pants on, you could already feel yourself salivating.

Satoru was right behind you, swiping the angry tip of his cock up and down your folds, gathering your slick and making you shiver from the touch. He then pushed his girth into you, stretching you impossibly and pulling a quiet, whiny fuck straight out of your throat. It’s been a while since you’ve been having sex with anyone, not to say anyone with that size, but you couldn’t deny that the burn was delicious. It set all your senses on fire, the heatwave washed over you and once Gojo went with the first thrust, it reminded you how much you missed the physical act of intimacy with him.

“Can’t focus, pretty girl?”, Suguru brought your attention back to himself. His long fingers gently gathered all of your hair into a messy ponytail, and you got the hint immediately. As on cue, you unbuckled his pants, pushing them down almost too eagerly. “Good girl.”

The praise in his tone got you weak, you were already becoming a mess from how perfectly Satoru was fucking you right now, pounding his hips against yours in the mind-numbing manner. His cock hitting all of the sweet spots inside of you with each long stroke and that was enough to make you almost incapable of thinking straight, but your hands and mouth acted on its own.

Geto watched how your lips wrapped around his dick. The sight of you taking him into your mouth with such hunger was something he wanted to engrave onto his brain and if the picture was amazing, then there was no word to describe the feeling itself. Your soft, plush lips felt divine brushing along his sensitive shaft, your tongue dancing around his length made him almost lose his composure. You were a sight. And you made him feel so good, he could feel himself twitching in the hot, wet embrace of your mouth. You were sucking him as if your life was depending on it, as if it was your last supper and you wanted to devour it and every time his plump tip hit the back of your throat, he could feel you taking control over him.

“Isn’t she amazing?”, Gojo mumbled from behind you. His grip remained iron on your hips, the bruising force being the only thing that was grounding you now. You could feel yourself clenching around him, your juices were running down your thighs and the wet sounds of skin slapping against each other were filling the room.

“Oh, she is,” Geto confirmed, applying some force onto your head. The tug on your hair was enough to send you overboard and the vibration of your throat once you moaned were enough for him as well. You couldn’t tell who came first, and frankly, you couldn’t care less about it, as long as it felt so damn good.

“I, fuck— I told you,” Satoru panted out. His hips moved slower as he was sloppily riding the high out. You licked the cock in front of you clean, satisfied with the first course but hungry for more.

You shouldn’t allow all of this to happen. There was not a single argument that could justify everything that was happening right now – you shouldn’t sneak out to god-knows-whose room in your friend’s house and you absolutely shouldn’t sneak out there with not only your ex-boyfriend but also his friend. You couldn’t even remember how you agreed to that. Why have you agreed to that? You had no idea. Was it to talk?

You wouldn’t exactly call the way your body was being stuffed full by two cocks at the same time talking. You were squeezing Suguru’s shoulders as he was thrusting his hips up against yours. His body below you, laying flat on the bed made for a canvas for your nails to leave marks, but he didn’t seem to mind at all. He was kissing you with a mixture of passion and laziness, a smirk stayed prominent on his lips as he was swallowing your moans. The subtle taste of weed in his mouth got you wanting more of him. He felt perfect in every way, his movements were setting your nervous system on fire as the heat was spreading over your entire body, radiating from your core. You could feel Satoru’s fingers teasing your clit, you could feel his lips smearing wet trails along your spine. The way his hips were moving seemed to be perfectly in sync with the brunette.

You were so full of them, you never felt something like this before. The initial pain you felt when Gojo pushed his girth into your asshole was long gone now as he was pounding into you in complete unison with how Geto was moving. The sensation of being so incredibly full turned your brain into a heated mush, your body was trembling between them, electrocuted time after time with a sharp waves of white pleasure. Your vision was blurry, the stars covered most of it. You could no longer tell whose hands were where and your thighs were wet and sticky from all the seed that was being pumped into you, gushing out with every piston of their hips.

“You’re so perfect for us,” someone told you. A low, rasped out voice resounded right next to your ear, followed by a harsh bite onto your shoulder and the sudden wave of new pain that radiated from it pushed you over the edge. You were speeding, falling with no parachute. You couldn’t breathe for a moment as the climax was overtaking you. “Such a good girl, you’re making so much mess.”

“Oh god,” you whimpered, gasping for air as their thrusts picked a pace. You couldn’t form any coherent sentence as they were fucking the soul out of your body. Right after you came, they both came as well. Their cum coated your insides and leaked onto your thighs, dripping down as they pumped into you some more.

Gojo was first to pull out, spreading your cheeks and admiring how his white overflown your hole. The menacing grin spread across his face as he gripped your hips and lifted you off Suguru’s cock. The long-haired man sat up as you, led by your ex’s hands turned to straddle Geto’s lap. Your back was facing his chest as he pulled you back onto his shaft. All of his length sank right into your ass, pulling a moan right from your chest.

“Look at you, so gorgeous,” Satoru was in front of you, admiring for a moment your bouncing figure before his long fingers slipped into your cunt, curling in a way that got him pressing onto your oversensitive sweet spots. “Open your mouth for me.”

You barely registered his words, but your jaw dropped nonetheless. His cum coated digits slid right through your lips and you sucked on them, twirling your tongue around and tasting the mixture of your juices and their seeds. Suguru’s hands were kneading your breasts as his friend was playing with the mess between your thighs.

There was something deeply erotic in a way the white-haired man kept your gaze up. How he looked right into your eyes while you were being fucked by his best friend, how he enjoyed the way you gave them your body to play however they wanted. And it felt even more erotic when Satoru licked the lone drop of cum that escaped the corner of your mouth only to kiss you right after.

Geto was still slamming his pelvis up and you got stuck in the realm of pleasure, hanging somewhere between the movements of the cock in your ass and the lips over your own. You could feel your thighs trembling. Your body, still oversensitive from the last orgasm and yet, already entering the state of another. The wave of lustful relief now flowing dangerously close to your core, the knot in your stomach holding just barely and you squeezed Satoru’s hair, tugging at them harshly. You were struggling to breathe through the heavy kiss he was laying on your lips, but the sensation of it rendered you unable to fight it.

And then it hit you once again. The man below you filled you to the brim, tearing down the last bits of composure you had and your world shattered once the final climax. You felt as if the lust and desire were steaming off of all three of you. The breaths were mixed and the tastes concocted. As all three of you fell onto the bed, blissfully satisfied, you began to slowly regain your mind to the sound of a soft chuckle from your left side. Satoru. He had a habit of laughing when he was fulfilled – a sign of his happiness, the state nearing high. There was some gratefulness in it as well.

“How are you feeling?”, the question came from the right side, where Suguru seemed to already plan how to take care of the entire mess. He kissed your shoulder softly.

“Good,” you replied to him, watching as he gathered himself up from the bed.

“You rest a little bit longer; I’ll go get washed first and then you two.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #satoru #suguru #satosugu #stsg #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo #gojo #gojo x reader #suguru geto #geto #geto x reader #satosugu x reader #satosugu x you #satosugu x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #satoru goto smut #suguru geto smut #gojo smut #geto smut #satosugu smut #satoru x suguru x you #geto x gojo x you

[nouvxllev]

after party

Pairing: G!p!Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Summary: in which you both left a party in pure silence just seconds after tara pulled you away from flirting too much with a girl.

Words: 4.5k

Warnings: pure and heavy smut like every scene is a sex scene. oh and its angry sex

a/n: i wanna consider this as the special valentines fic because the main one im writing right now im totally so damn stumped on. so heres one to atleast keep up with my stories

masterlist.

You were too fucked out of your mind to even process anything. All you took note of was that your girlfriend looks pretty fucking hot when she's jealous.

Your breath was caught in your throat as Tara's hands pressed you firmly against the wall, a forceful thud and your back meeting the hard surface, your bodies pressed together as your hands tried to push her away but your efforts were in vain when you were met with her abs concealed beneath her shirt. Tara's lips claimed yours without a second of hesitation, letting her mouth slip inside as she explored every inch of you.

A gasp that turned into a moan escaped your lips as Tara's hands slid eagerly under your thighs, you could feel a smirk between kisses, her touch warm under your skin as she effortlessly lifted you up against the wall, all while you allowed your tongue surrender as she took control over you. You could feel her fingers slipping under your shorts, caressing every inch of your skin with her thumb, tracing the delicate curves of your ass before squeezing it sent shivers down your spine.

Her lips on yours and her hot breath mingled with your own was its own fix. Too intoxicating, yet so addictive, you couldn't get enough even if it killed you. Your hands go nowhere but to instinctively wrap them around her head, fingers possessively at the nape of her neck, letting your head tilt to create the perfect angle for Tara to deepen her assault inside your mouth.

It wasn't romantic, it wasn't delicate, it wasn't passionate. It was raw, filthy, messy, and sloppy. But who were you to care if you got to see Tara so eager to fuck the shit out of you?

She pulled away, her breathing becoming strained as a string of saliva unraveling themselves as your lips were far apart from hers, an aching sensation that you never wanted to happen. "Why were you flirting with her? In front of me?" Tara breathed out, her voice filled with desperation and want, husky but fuck did it make you clench around nothing.

"I wasn't—god," Your pathetic words turned into a moan when you felt Tara push her body against yours with force. You could feel her hard erection rub against your clothed clit, driving you wild, your hips bucking involuntarily to seek more friction than a simple bump of its head as you struggled to explain, "I didn't mean to."

Her nails dug into the soft and sweaty flesh of your ass, making you wince as she spoke, "You were practically fucking yourself onto her." Tara's words were harsh, but it made your cunt throb with wetness more than ever, clenching around nothing yet again. It took all of your self-control to not pull down everything she had and ride her dick until the insides of your pussy remembered her shape.

"I didn't… I didn't mean to, Tara, please," you stammered. You could feel saliva dripping from your mouth as your abused lips hung open, wanting nothing more than to let Tara inside. Or better yet, letting her cock drill into your mouth until it hits the back of your throat.

Her eyes bore into yours, making you feel like prey under her hands. It was rare to see Tara like this, and fuck it turned you on. "You liked her hands on you, didn't you? You even got her number." The sound of her voice terrified you, but it never overcame the excitement that shot through your spine, shivering as she tried to bring you closer to her, her mouth opened to take yours but you were never granted that.

"No—" You tried to find a voice when all you can do is whine, whimper, and moan whenever her throbbing cock was rubbing against your pussy and the tightening grip she had on your ass. "I don't want her, please," you whined, "I want you. Only you."

"Really, y/n?" Tara's breath caressed your skin, "Then let me fuck you against my bed so everyone in this apartment can hear how fucking good you take my cock. That alright with you, baby?" She purred, her grip on your ass tightening further as she guided both of you toward the bedroom. Her head leaned in, tracing lazy kisses along your jawline. It was crazy to think someone so small could have this much strength.

You nodded feverishly, a small mhm coming out, afraid that your words would just come out as a pathetic whine. Your hands remained on her shoulders as you allowed Tara to manhandle you toward the bed. The ache between your legs, combined with the throbbing need within your pussy, pleaded for her touch even more, wanting nothing but to let her dick plow into your dripping pussy until you couldn't take it.

Tara wasted no time in throwing you against the bed, your back landing on the mattress with a loud thud while her body was on top of yours, her cock pressed so fucking close against your pussy, the subtle friction making your hips buck in a desperate motion. Her hands went down your chest, tugging at the fabric that was the only barrier between her and your body.

"You know, she would've ripped it apart and fucked me so good right now."

You could tell that was the last straw for Tara.

In a heartbeat, Tara abandoned any hint of gentleness she had with you, ripping your blouse open with such force she almost tore it apart, eliciting a rather embarrassing wince from you.

The piece of unwanted fabric desperately clung near the edges of your shoulders, barely holding on as you felt her hands drop to your chest. Her fingers traced the curves of your body, the simple touch making your pussy throb with want yet again, reaching up to your breasts and then to your mouth, her thumb parting your lips as she ducked down to slip her tongue into yours.

Your hands flew to Tara's shorts, fingers frantically pulling the hem down along with her boxers, letting them slide down to Tara's hips as her throbbing cock sprang out, slapping against the fabric of her shirt. She was big. Probably the first and last monstrous cock you'd ever take.

"Tara…" you gasped, her name escaping your lips in a breathy moan as Tara pulled away. Her hands immediately found their way to your waist as her fingers worked to pull your own shorts down, mindlessly discarding them around somewhere, your wet cunt being exposed to the cold air and Tara's gaze.

"God, y/n, you're soaked," she whispered as she wrapped her fingers around her cock, stroking it up and down. Your slick gushing out on her mattress was one of the things that made her erection throb so damn painfully. She guided the head, coaxed with her own pre-cum, to your slick folds, parting them slowly. "Wanna fuck you so deep and let you forget about her entire existence," she breathrd out, her eyes watched yours in a haze with your mouth hung open.

"Tara fucking Carpenter, if you don't—FUCK!"

You cried out as you felt Tara shove her cock deep inside your tight pussy without warning, the sudden invasion making your folds stretch so damn good to accommodate her throbbing length, the pain mixed with pleasure making your head spin and your toes curl.

Tara's hands gripped your hips firmly, her perfectly manicured nails digging into your skin to hold your body steady as she relentlessly kept sinking her huge cock into your heat.

Your body shuddered, making the perfect arch for Tara to penetrate your pussy even further as she leaned down, Tara, wait, you're too big, oh shit...!" You moaned, letting her bite and kiss every inch of her skin as you welcomed her, marking you as her own as if her dick wasn't claiming you right this second.

Tara continued fucking into you, ignoring how painful it was to be inside of you yet so satisfying seeing her dick disappearing and reappearing, your wet slick going nowhere but being used as a lube for her thick and girthy cock.

Her name continuously escaped your lips along with a moan, "...shit! Right there Tara, oh fuck!" You gasped, giving her the most pornographic moan she ever heard, the lewd repeated claps of your ass meeting her hips while she rammed her shaft inside you with disgruntled breaths and grunts.

"Take it, baby," she whispered, her voice husky as her hands slid under your thighs that instinctively encircled her body, "I know you can." She slowed her pace down, grabbing your legs and folding them onto your body then returned to her merciless pace, "Such a perfect mess for me." She grunted, her hips desperately rutting into your sex.

You moaned uncontrollably throughout her room, "So... so full, holy fuck," You groaned, throwing your head back in pure ecstasy, your fists clenching, your eyes rolling back and your toes curling beneath her as you writhed under her touch, wanting more even if your pussy was already stuffed to the brim with Tara.

Your arms reached out to her, fingers gripping her shoulders all while your body shook and squirmed underneath her, "Fuck me. Fuck me so hard, please, Tara!" You begged, tears starting to trickle down your eyes while immense pleasure washed over you, your voice reverberating as she dicked you down.

Tara's half-lidded eyes locked in with yours, pure lust evident in her eyes. No longer staring at your puffy folds, her mouth hung open, grunts escaping her soft lips with every forceful thrust.

"You want this, don't you?" Her mouth poured out words with every harsh thrust she gave you. Your mind couldn't work properly, let alone form any coherent sentences other than incoherent mumbling and needy whimpers of her name. "To make me fuck you senseless with my cock until your brain couldn't think of anything other than my dick."

It was clear she knew the answer, she just needed to hear it from you.

Your breath hitched, staring at Tara as if you'd pass out by how stretched you were under her, your throat unable to form words as it was caught between pathetic gasps and moans, your walls fluttering around her dick like it was your sole purpose to be her cock-warming slut and manhandled so good by her.

You couldn't focus on anything other than Tara. Tara, Tara, Tara, oh how her cock felt so good buried inside of you, how it kept hitting your cervix with every thrust, and how it was so fucking painful yet it sent shivers down your spine that made your back arch so naturally.

"Answer me," she rasped, her hands releasing the harsh grip on your thighs that were bound to leave a mark and letting them trail up your body until they reached your throat, her fingers wrapping around it with their possessive grip, her nails slightly grazing your skin that were already adorned with hickeys. "Don't tell me you're too drunk on my cock to think of anything else."

You couldn't handle it anymore, your airways constricting with each tightening grip Tara had on your throat. "Yes!" you screamed, "I need your dick so much, so badly, Tara, my God—!" You choked out, your muscles tensing as you felt a knot forming in your stomach, your cunt clenching around her cock

"So close, so close, soclosesoclose, 'm close, Tara, f-fuck!" you whimpered, your hands reaching over her shoulders, nails clawing against her chiseled back, leaving red marks along her body that were bound to scar.

You couldn't miss the subtle wince that went across Tara's face under your harsh touch. Even if you were so damn close to cumming around her dick, the relentless slam of her hips onto your skin taking a toll on your sense of awareness, you still took notice of the muted groan of pain leaving her lips amidst the struggling grunts and low moans she breathed out. Yet you could feel the undeniable twitch from her cock buried deep inside you out of pleasure.

"Why were you flirting with her?"

Tara cocked her head to the side, her voice still raspy and her breaths were hot and heavy. The pace of her thrusts slowed as she began to give deliberate and agonizing strokes with her dick as she toyed with you, her hips slowly thrusting inside of you so excruciatingly slow to the point you'd be better off at riding her cock until your cunt spasms so hard you couldn't cum anymore.

"I wasn't…" you panted desperately, the slow and deliberate movement of Tara's hips driving you insane. "I wasn't flirting… with… oh, fuck..!" You let out a guttural moan as you felt Tara pull out, almost to her tip, and slammed her cock back in your cervix with such force.

You threw your head back, eyes rolling while your mouth hung open to deliver a loud moan that echoed throughout, your back arching in response to her plowing her length inside of you once more.

Tara continued her relentless assault, though if not slower, your hands frantically going to your face, grabbing a handful of your hair as you subtly hid your face away from hers. Biting the flesh of your arm to hide the rather embarrassing and pathetic moans you kept producing.

"Who?" She leaned down, her hot yet soft lips giving you wet kisses all along your jaw as your muffled moans filled the room and her ears, "Who, baby?" she pressed all while your muffled whimpers filled the room, her hands going to your face and pulling your arms out of way. Her voice was soft, unlike the way she fucked you into insanity, acting as if she was the most innocent girl in the room.

"I don’t know.. I don’t know!" You sobbed, actual tears running down your face as Tara kept her tormenting pace. You couldn't think of anything anymore, let alone other people who are not Tara. Sentences just flowed out of you as if Tara controlled every inch of your brain. Your cunt soaked her dick with your wetness, the knot in your stomach tightening with every thrust.

"Please," you desperately pleaded, the words escaping with more neediness than you intended it to be. "Just, oh my god, let me cum!" You cried out as your body shook under her, ready for release, but you knew she wasn't going to give you that when she pulled out, a loud wince escaping your lips.

It took all your self-control not to pull her back with such force that her cock would immediately hit your cervix and you'd rut all over her until she was satisfied with you.

"Wha... Tara what the fuck!?"

You whined as you looked down, her dick still standing proudly at 7 inches with its thick girth, resting on her stomach, still hard and erect. So why the fuck did she pull out when you could've been on the verge of having the most jaw-dropping orgasm of your life.

The knot in your stomach eased slightly as Tara grabbed a handful of your hair, her head leaning down, "Here's what we're going to do, baby," she whispered against your lips, your need to slip your tongue into hers was just a fleeting thought.

Her dick twitched over your thigh, and you knew you looked like the hottest mess Tara had ever laid her eyes on, and the knowledge that your face looked like a fucked-up, cock-drunk, slut for Tara made your pussy throb.

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard against that glass window," she continued, her voice low and husky as you looked over, "until all of New York hears how you're such a pathetic and filthy whore for my dick." She raised her free hand to cup your cheeks, caressing the soft and red skin you had from sobbing your heart out. "Then you're going to thank me for letting you cum on my cock while screaming my name."

If you weren't crazy then, then you were definitely going crazy now. You looked at Tara, doe eyes and all.

"Do you hear me, y/n?" She demanded, and you dumbly nodded in response.

"Mmh, yeah, yes please," you whimpered, your voice so desperate and needy as you dropped to your knees, gazing up at Tara who was already standing up, your hands almost reaching to wrap around her cock if not for her hand slapping it away. It was unfair she was half-clothed while you looked like you got railed every second. "I'll do what you want, anything, just let me cum, Tara…"

"There's that good girl I know." Tara purred, her simple approval and praise making you wet as ever. Her hands found your shoulders, turning you around to face away from her as you obeyed her silent orders.

You gave her the best possible view of your back, a perfect arch as your head was off to the side, all while offering her a glimpse of your exposed pussy.

You could feel her hands trailing down your back as your head faced forward, your eyes dropping down to the mattress. With a firm grip, she grabbed both of your wrists, tying them together with her hand while her other arm traveled back to your shoulder.

With your hands bound behind you, Tara led you towards the window, forcefully pressing your face against the cold and hard surface, the windowpane flushed on your skin. You could see every apartment that surrounded Tara's, lights turned on and some turned off, some maybe even watching the both of you.

You wouldn't be lying if you said it turned you on so much.

Tara's body was pressed onto yours, gasping for solid air as you felt the hard length of her clock sliding against your ass, its slow movement teased every inch of your body as the pleasure shot up from your spine.

"You won't mind if I use your phone, right?" She asked while you wondered how the hell she even got your phone in the first place in this position. But you didn't mind.

You weren't above filming a little video for her, especially when it came to something like sex. In fact, you have a dedicated folder solely for those kinds of videos, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't have a video of Tara screaming your name replaying in your head over and over as you fucked yourself to it.

And so, you nodded.

Oh, how you wished you hadn't.

Or rather, you wished you didn't immediately add the girls number in your contacts so quickly.

"Fucking hell," Tara murmured to herself which didn't go unnoticed by you. As well as the sounds of Tara dialing a number onto your phone.

Glancing over your shoulders, you found Tara standing right behind you. Her hand gripped her throbbing cock, teasing your slick folds while her gaze remained fixated on the ringing phone in her other hand.

"Tara, what are you—" you began, but before you could finish your sentence, Tara shoved her cock deep inside you with a force that left you more than breathless, penetrating your pussy so good that left you gasping for air as you cried out her name.

"Oh, God! Tara—Shit, Tara!" You screamed, your head throwing back as your fingers gripped the wall, "feels s' good, f-fuck!," you cursed, a perfect arch making its way to your spine while Tara fucked your juices back inside of you.

Her cock fit perfectly inside you, almost as if it was already molded to the shape of her dick precisely. Every vein, and every twitch of her shaft inside of you felt so familiar. Her balls repeatedly slapped your clit by her relentless pace, driving you to the brink of insanity by the touch alone. Every pleasure you felt shot down onto your cunt, hot and so fucking intoxicating.

You wanted to push her away, to catch a breath and your abused folds catch a breath, yet bring her deeper into your body, wanting and craving her more and more.

It felt so good to the point you didn't notice the 'hello, y/n?' that came from your phone.

"Hold it." Tara commanded of you, her body leaning down to yours, bringing your phone closer to your ear.

You looked at her, wide-eyed. Your lips and mind tempted to moan out her name as she kept pounding her cock inside of you if not for the abrupt phone call. "Tara…" you whimpered, "Tara, I-I can't—" your voice barely audible before her hand covered your mouth, muffling your moans when she gave you a hard thrust.

The pleasure she's giving you by simply moving and her still dick filling you up send shivers down your spine, yet the voice coming from your phone won't stop talking.

You took over Tara's hand from the phone, putting it up to your ear as you spoke quietly. "Yeah—sorry, he—hey!" You stammered, attempting to even get a coherent thought over your clouded mind while Tara continued assaulting your puffy pussy, "who, oh fuck, is this?"

"I'm the girl at the party, Cady! You do remember, right?"

You don't, really. It's all a blur.

You gasped, your head turning to the side as you tried to muffle your noises as quietly as possible, "yeah, yeah, I remember. Why—why, are you calling?"

The girl on the line laughed, chuckling even, "you called me. I didn't expect getting a call so easily after that conversation."

Please stop talking, you wanted to say.

You could feel Tara's jealousy and anger through the way her hands gripped your waist, her other hand delivering a sharp slap to your ass.

"I… I probably was—I was drunk," you stuttered, struggling to find the right words as your head ducked down. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to call," you breathed out, biting your lip to prevent a single whimper coming out of you.

"Well, you did," she replied, her tone teasing, laughing even more, "But I'm glad you did. We can pick up where we left off, if you know what I mean," You knew there was a sultry tone to her voice, probably even winking across the phone. "Is there someone in your room? I thought I heard something crash."

Tara leaned down, her grip on your hips tighter than ever, planting wet and sloppy along your shoulders to your ear, "You wanna tell them how good I'm fucking you, baby?" She whispered huskily, innocently kissing your cheeks as if she wasn't teasing you with another person on the other line.

"Wanna tell her how fucking good it feels to have my cock buried deep inside you?" She thrusted, her arms going to your shoulders and pushing your body deeper inside of her, "Tell her how you're begging for more, how you couldn't get enough of my dick?"

You were so glad you moved the phone just an inch away.

"I, oh my God, uhm, Tara—Tara!" You screamed out, a broken moan escaping your lips, hiding it by the fact you were mentioning her name, "yeah, Tara's here. Carpenter. She's, well, joining me for a simple exercise," you managed to reply, your voice shaky.

"Didn't know you guys were close."

"Yeah, we...uh, got closer recently," you stammered while Tara continued her relentless assault on your tight cunt, her cock plunging deep inside you, "we—oh shit—she lives with me so, yeah!"

You could hear Tara laugh at the half-assed excuse, probably the most common ones in the book.

Cady laughed through the phone once more, "I didn't mean to interrupt anything by picking up the phone, did I?"

"Cady, it's… It's fine," you managed to gasp, your voice strained with pleasure as Tara's relentless thrusts kept pounding into you harder and faster if it was even possible. "Oh, fuck!" You couldn't help but moan loudly, yet accidentally, the phone still pressed to your ear, as Tara leaned down once more and took over the phone, bringing it close to her ear as she let you grip the walls with such immense tightness.

"I'm sure y/n will forget you in a matter of seconds after this," she purred, "especially when she's getting fucked so good by me." She turned the phone around, enabling video on, letting Cady see your ass bouncing along her cock, her dick disappearing deep inside you and your back arching in pure ecstasy, "I almost pity you on how you'll never feel the never-ending pleasure of her pussy clenching around you."

She hung up before a single scream shouted from the phone, throwing it on the bed, "'m gonna cum, Tara. Baby, I'm gonna cum, Shit, shit,shitshitshitshitshit!"

Your body tensed, a knot forming in your lower abdomen as you cried out her name like a prayer, begging for a desperate release of being denied just moments ago. You could feel her hands gripping your hips even tighter, her grunts and little moans escaping her lips only drove you more into an orgasm,

Your moans filled the room, mixing with Tara's own gasps and the sound of skin slapping against skin, your wetness coating her dick. "Cum on me baby," she whispered, her fingers running across your hair as she threw your head back, "don't forget to do what I said."

"Tara! Oh, fuck, that feels so good!" Your walls clenched around her cock, your body trembling while you felt Tara's own climax shoot ropes of cum deep inside of you as she held you close, her arms wrapped around you as she came, "thank you..." You murmured, crying out, "thank you, baby, fuck your cock still feels so good inside me..."

The intense grip you had on the glass faltered, your legs giving way as you collapsed against the window, your body still shaking and your pussy tightening against Tara's twitching cock while you waited for her to empty her load inside of you, her hips still bucking while she caressed your skin, leaving a trail of kisses and words of affection down your neck.

"I love you..." she whispered against your skin, "you're gorgeous," she kissed, "such a good girl, y/n."

You nodded weakly, a smile covering your lips as you slid down the glass wall as Tara gently turned you around, planting a tender kiss on your lips.

"My pretty girl," Tara called out, softness in her voice while she tucking a loose strand behind your ear and wiping the tears away, "you did so well."

Tara cupped your cheek, all too evident that you were tired and exhausted, her thumb brushing lightly against your skin as she stared into your eyes. It was all too beautiful for Tara.

You started to wrap your arms on her shoulders, pulling her close while she laughs"I'll carry you to the bathroom, mkay? I'll draw you a bath and we can cuddle there."

You were too tired out to say or think of anything, so you opted with a nod.

Tara chuckled softly in your response, scooping you up in her oddly strong arms as she carried you to the bathroom, her touch now soft and comforting instead of harsh and cruel.

You didn't think the afterparty would turn out like this, but you were grateful it did.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

aftermath bonus:

Y: "are you still mad at me?" T: *shrug* "lost it within the three seconds we started making out" Y: "what the fuck tara?!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: tara is the size of two apples tall (give or take), every possible bone in her body is fractured, probably losing blood by the minute, her shoesize is probably smaller than a rats AND the girl has asthma. it almost felt wrong writing her like this. off topic but i wished tumblr had a like comment thing for people like me that for some reason is too scared and shy to reply to you guys. I REALLY APPRECIATE THE COMMENTS, TRULY!! THEY MAKE MY DAY SM BETTER

#tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter smut #tara carpenter x fem reader #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader smut #tara carpenter #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega

[wosoamazing]

Sick

Summary: You get sick at training and no one can get a hold of Leah

Warnings: Sick, angst??, IDK

A/N: decided to give you all another fic. I hope you like this one, I don't know how good it is.... also please do send requests in, I want to make sure I'm writing things people will enjoy.

Training today just felt harder than usual, yes you had off days, but something was different, it wasn’t just that you weren’t playing as well, you were hotter, you were running out of breath quicker than usual, you head hurt slightly. Everyone around you noticed but didn’t want to say anything, your teenage hormones were at their peak currently, as Leah put it and you were quick to snap at anyone for no real reason. You stayed quite about it though and just tried to push through, that was until you felt like you were going to pass out and you decided you should probably sit down. So, you went up to Jonas.

“Y/N, how can I help you?”

“Umm, I’m just feeling a little hot, was just wondering if I could sit down for a bit,” “yeah sure why don’t you go inside to the dining room and sit down there, it will be cooler in there than out here, lunch is only 25 or so away anyway,” “Thanks Jonas,” you said, and you turned around, probably a little too fast as everything spun, you stumbled a little and shut your eyes, hoping that no one noticed you continued to make your way into the dining room and sat on one of the chairs, everything was still slightly spinning but it wasn’t too bad. Just as you were about to rest your head on the table you heard footsteps which grew louder, until they stopped, and Katie was standing next to you.

“Hey,” you mumbled.

“Hey, Jonas sent me in here to check on you. You okay?”

“No, I feel like crap” you replied. It was the truth. In an effort to feel better, you shut your eyes and rested your head on the table, it was cool to touch, Katie put her hand on the back of your neck, and she winced at the heat that was radiating off you.

“I think you need to go see a medic.”

“No, I’m fine.” you snapped.

“Okay, well I’ll leave you to it then,” she stood up starting to walk out.

“Katie,” you softly cried out, she looked back at you “can you stay?”

“Only if you let me get a medic to look at you,” she tried compromising.

“Fine.” You sighed. Katie messaged someone on her phone and a few minutes later one of the medics came in. “38.7, not too bad, get her to take two of these and try and see if you can get her sister to take her home, if she is still here in about 45 minutes, we will come check on her again. Also get her to drink the rest of that and another one at least” The medic said to Katie pointing at your water bottle, Katie nodded. “Oh, and have one of these,” Katie screwed her face up at the sight of the emesis bag she really couldn’t handle that type of sick, “look she shouldn’t need it but it’s better to be safe than sorry.” Katie nodded agreeing with that statement. She got you to take two Panadol and to drink some water before you fell asleep. She did wake you every ten minutes to drink some more water however you didn’t really remember that.

“Hey, can you sit up for just a sec,” you look up to see the medic, she takes your temperature and checks your breathing. “39.1” the medic and Katie look at each other you place your head back on the table, and whimper slightly at the movement of your head, however the table felt nice on your head as it was cool.

“Where the fuck is Leah! Why isn’t she answering her phone,” Katie yelled becoming more furious with Leah by the second.

“Why don’t you just take her home?” Kim asked.

“Because Leah is a genius. Who doesn’t give their 16-year-old sister a key? and she refuses to let me take her to mine.” Katie replies

“You could call Sarina,” you decided to chime in.

“What’s her number though?” “Give it here,” you put Sarina’s number into Katies phone, Katie quickly pressed the call button and to her amusement Sarina picked up.

“Hi Sarina, its Katie McCabe, I am really sorry to be calling but we have Y/F/N here and she isn’t feeling well at all, and we have been trying to get a hold of Leah for 45 minutes but she won’t answer, and we understand she is doing important media duties however Y/N does have a temperature of 39.1C, and we think it would be best if she went home.” There was a pause, Sarina must’ve been talking “Okay, thank you so much, so sorry again. Bye”

“She’s coming,” everyone let out a sigh of relief, they hated seeing you so sick and helpless knowing that Leah was the one thing that might make you feel better.

“Leah?” you questioned, starting to cry.

“Yeah, she’s coming, like 10 minutes,” Katie said as she started to rub your back, you placed your head back on the table and continued to cry, you just felt so sick and wanted your sister.

“Hey, I’m here.” Leah said as she rounded the corner, her heart melting at the scene in front of her. You were still crying head on the table, Katie was still rubbing your back looking like she might cry at any moment, she just wanted to help, and she couldn’t.

“Oh, bug.” Leah cooed at the sight, and she continued towards you, you lifted you head up tears still falling. She kneeled down beside you and put her hand on your forehead, she winced and looked at Katie, “39.1 last we checked.”

“Bug, I’m so sorry I didn’t come sooner.” She said, ready to cry herself.

“Can we go home?” you whimpered, as she pulled you in for a hug, she noticed the slight dampness of your skin.

“Let me go talk to the medic first,” she said as she stood up.

“I’ll go get her stuff for you,” Lia said as she went to the locker room. The girls remaining all looked at each other, you couldn’t resist a smirk.

“Why do you have two bags Lia?” your sister questioned.

“Le, don’t do this, I’ve spoken to Jonas, and he agrees that you’re going to need help, come on I’ll drive you home.” She replied.

“Carry me?” you whined looking at your sister who sighed before picking you up and taking you home, the girls all made eyes at each other as the three of you walked out.

_______

“Le, I’m back” Lia said as she walked through the door. “We’re still in here.” Leah replied, she was sitting up against the head board of her bed, you had your head in her lap and your body laid parallel to the headboard, your training top was on the end of the bed and you were just in your crop top and training shorts, Leah had taken your shirt off in hopes of cooling you down, your sweaty body was making the sheets slightly damp, as she rain her fingers through your hair.

“Hey” Lia said softly as she walked into the room, carrying the bag of items she bought to help you. “What you got in there” Leah asked looking at the quite full bag.

“Just the essentials,” Lia pulled out some medicine first, then some hydrolyte, followed by a thermometer “I guessed you didn’t have one of these,” she pulled some more items out “Oh and I got some of these,” Leah’s brow furrowed at the sight of the emesis bags, “they might come in handy one day” Lia said as she shrugged.

“Thank you, Lia for everything not just for today” your sister replied.

“It’s no problem, how is she?”

“I don’t really know, she never gets sick it’s been years, I’m just really worried. Should we check her temperature again?” with of nod of Lia’s head they pulled the thermometer out of its packing and checked your temperature. “Shit,” Lia’s brow furrowed “39.5, what do we do Li, do we take her to the hospital, the doctor?” Leah said heartbroken a tear rolling down her check.

“She hasn’t had any medicine yet has she?” Lia questioned.

“I think they gave her some Panadol at the colony but other than that no”

“Okay well we’ll give her some ibuprofen, and help her take a lukewarm bath, and if her temperature hasn’t gone down or if it goes up after 30 minutes, we can take her to the hospital, how does that sound?” Leah just nodded agreeing with Lia, she just wanted to help you but in this moment she felt helpless. “You give her the medicine and I’ll start the bath”.

“Bug, can you wake up for me?” Leah said softly shaking you. You sat up, leaning against the headboard, resting you head on the wall.

“Here can you take this, it will help you feel better,” Leah said handing you two tablets and your water bottle, you took them and then went to lay back down on Leah, but she stopped you, as the bath was now ready.

“Bug we’re going to put you in the bath for a little while,” you groan at Leah’s words, she helps you up and places you in the bath still clothed. She let you sit there while she went to get the pair of you new clothes, nothing fancy of course, just some PJs. After your bath Leah helped you get changed before carrying you back to the bedroom.

“Oh, you didn’t have to Lia,” she said noticing Lia was just finishing off changing the sheets on the bed.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s all good, here have this” she said as she placed a pillow down for you and Leah. You laid between the two girls with your head resting on Leah’s arm, they rechecked your temperature and it was now back to 39.1, they weren’t super happy with it but happy enough not to take you to the hospital, you spent the next four days in bed sick, Leah and Lia both trying to help you get better.

#woso x reader #woso community #arsenal wfc #woso #woso fanfics #katie mccabe #leah williamson #lia walti #woso imagine

[helluvapoison]

Hi!!! For the injury promts, could i ask for prompt 6+dialogue 17 with Lucifer? Im down so bad for this man-

you make it easy

warning: blood, violence, ooc(?), angsty and dramatic

Stars, he should’ve accepted your offer when you asked to join him on this morning’s errands. He was a fool to think his good mood would last.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

Believe it or not, there was a time when Lucifer noticed everything. The sky is brighter than it was yesterday, he would say to no one, he simply noticed. Nowadays it was harder, a struggle to live outside his own mind. There was a passing thought every now and again. Hey, that lamp is new or Charlie’s nails match Maggie’s. But even those came at the worst times and he never pointed them out when he should, be it in the middle of an argument or entirely different conversation. Determined, he kept trying. More than that, he tried to see his world through his daughter’s eyes, to see that there could be good in the strangest places.

It was hard when the looming cloud of misery and evil followed him every time he tried to leave the hotel. The only time it didn’t was when he was accompanied by you. Charlie, as good natured and pure as she somehow was, was biased. Lilith’s doing, of course. His ex-wife made it seem like Lucifer’s decision was a gift and not the curse that it really was. But you… you were magical. You held an umbrella he couldn’t see that kept him safe from the endless troubles he made with his own two hands. While he knew he had every capability to protect himself physically, the inner workings of his mind was an entirely different story. Besides, it was, admittedly, nice to have someone else do it simply because.

You didn’t want anything from him. You just thought he was worth the effort.

If only he could think the same for himself. Not even two blocks into town did the thick clouds gather into a storm above his crown. It whipped and raged in his mind, hissing what he already knew. He wasn’t. God was punishing him for a reason and that reason stared him in the face every waking moment in Hell. Piles of bodies, gallons of blood, drugs, sex, etc. Not an hour could go by without seeing it all. So who could blame him when he lost sight of Charlie’s dream in the fog of guilt and self pity? How was he supposed to notice anything other than the deplorable sinners and their heinous ways?

He rounded the first corner he could, gasping and clutching at his vest. Whistle leaning against the cool bricks, a shadow stretched toward him. He saw. He saw the demon, he saw the jagged knife and he saw the intent in their eyes. Going against the King of Hell was a suicide mission but Lucifer saw exactly what they wanted from him. Retribution.

In all but a moment it was over. Red blood splattered on the alley wall opposite to him, merely adding to the number of stains it had worn over the centuries. Golden blood though? WItnessing that was a treat indeed. Through the tear in Lucifer’s ivory suit he could see it dribbling down his arm. As his eyes traveled over his attire he could see it was also blighted by the demon’s blood. That took precedence over his own injury but at the time he was grateful for the distraction. The news would lap up a scandal with the Morningstar name on it–

He needed to leave.

Lucifer attempted to summon his wings but they refused to budge. The sky was unsafe to them. It felt as if a thousand eyes were judging him from above. Fuck the news— Heaven was judging him.

He needed to hide.

The man slammed the end of his cane against the ground, instantly conjuring a portal that dropped him unceremoniously into your room.

A guttural growl ripped from his throat as he took in his surroundings of your belongings, “No! No, you stupid–!”

“Lucifer?”

You performed magic once again; turning gold into ice and freezing him in place with his back to you. He begged the wall for answers. What should he say? What should he do? Why the fuck did his magic bring him here when he just wanted to–

“Is that– Fuck! You’re bleeding!” You gasped

“Am I? I hadn’t noticed! Funny story, I didn’t mean to intrude– you know me, a gentleman should always knock– so I’ll just get out of your hair.”

As he spoke you’d scrambled over and stole any chance he had of absconding out of there. His voice got smaller and smaller until it was nonexistent. You reached not for his arm but for his coat, pulling it back to reveal a bigger patch of gold seeping through his vest.

“Oh that can’t be good.” He muttered, more annoyed than anything.

“Ok, uh, fuck. Fuck. You stay here and I’ll get—”

The second he felt you withdraw he whipped around and snatched your wrist like a lifeline. Your chest puffed with a smaller, quieter gasp as you drank in his appearance. Covered in more blood than just his own, he looked utterly panicked. Less than few had seen the king this way.

“No! No, I-I-I can’t have anyone see,” Daring to look down at himself, he foolishly thought maybe the gorey reminder wouldn't be there. And like a fool he winced when it was, “this. Please don’t tell anyone— Especially not Charlie.”

There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in you, just a firm nod that filled him with relief.

“You’ll do everything I say then.” You bartered, though it wasn’t much of an option.

Lucifer’s heart threatened to plummet to his stomach. He tried desperately to blink away the fog of doubt that lingered. You wouldn’t blackmail him… would you?

“I… Yes? W-Well, what do you want?”

“I don’t want anything—! Er. I mean, I guess I want you to listen and be still while I clean you up? I’ll probably have to burn this before Al sniffs it out. And Nifty’s been going through my shit again so it’ll take me a minute to find…”

You began talking to yourself and Lucifer tuned your voice to background noise when he heard all he needed to. Of course you wouldn’t blackmail him, he felt horrible he even doubted that!

The word ridiculous came to mind as he looked up to try and spot that invisible umbrella you always seemed to be holding for him. While Lucifer searched the air, you got to work. He was malleable for your gentle hands, allowing you to strip his upper half and discard the evidence in the fireplace of your room (he didn’t complain, you’ve seen his suit collection) You diligently cleaned both cuts with utmost care, surpassing what he deemed acceptable and ignoring him when he said exactly that. Only when his skin was porcelain again did you bandage them with a nearly depleted first aid kit you kept under your bed.

“Here, it might be big on you but it beats freezing. The sixth floor has a vendetta against working heaters so it gets chilly here. That's why I keep the fireplace on all night.” You rambled as you pulled one of your own shirts over Lucifer’s head. He noted it was one of your favorites as he had seen you wear it often. Sometimes days in a row! He was more than honored; he was on cloud nine! If this is how you felt when you wore it, he’d never take it off.

“Thank you.” Lucifer said softly. For everything, he didn’t add.

“Anytime,” You replied dutifully. Then casually killed him with, “You can have my bed, by the way. I’ll take the sofa.”

“That-That’s much too generous. You’ve already done so much, I—“

“If it were me, would you let me leave?”

His eyebrows nearly shot up and off his head. The very thought of you bruised and bleeding in his room had flames licking the back of his throat. He needed to expel the smoke through a sigh, covering it up with a fist to his mouth, mumbling,

“You know I wouldn’t.”

“My sentiments exactly. So get your royal ass in the bed… Your majesty.” You bowed low and perfectly, keeping eye contact with him all throughout your bit.

A minuscule laugh escaped him and you beamed seeing your efforts were not in vain.

“Fine. Well… we could, ah, both fit in your bed. If you wanted! I-I’m just looking at it a-and that sofa is not an adequate sleeping area for you. Much too small.” He squinted at your couch disapprovingly, pursing his lips as he pretended his heart wasn’t about to leap out of his chest.

You stood to your full height, seemingly considering the offer, “Only if you’re sure I wouldn’t hurt you.”

Already pulling back the covers for both of you, he scoffed and actually tried to shoo your worries away with a wave of his hand.

“Hurt me? No one can hurt— Oh. Hm. You caught me on a bad day, I can’t say what I normally do.” Lucifer tucked his hooves under the blankets as he spoke, waiting for your cue of laughter that never came.

The bed dipped beside him, much closer than he was anticipating. Your forehead melted against the top of his fluffy, blonde hair. He watched your hands twitch, longing to embrace him but too cautious for your own good. If he wasn’t such a coward he would close the distance himself.

“I didn’t know you could get hurt.” You sighed heavily, finally releasing what had troubled you since you saw him.

Lucifer’s brows dipped in concern but he kept his eyes trained on the burning fireplace across the way, “Anyone can get hurt down here.”

“That shouldn’t be possible. You’re the king.”

“You’re going to give me a big head, darling. Being a king doesn’t exempt me from pain. There’s quite a few ex-kings down here that could tell you that,” He attempted to laugh. Subconsciously his hand landed over his bandaged side, rubbing the soft fabric of your well-loved shirt. “I’ll be alright. Besides it wasn’t an angelic weapon so it wasn’t a serious assassination atte—“

“What?” You reeled back with wide eyes, kneeling beside him and gripping his shoulders lightly, silently begging him to focus, “Wha-What do you mean!? People have tried to kill you before!?”

He stared at you like you asked him why the sky was red. He didn’t understand your panic but he knew he didn’t like it.

“Well… yes? Yours truly isn’t only hated by Heaven. There’s plenty of people down here that pray for the royals' downfall, Hellborn and sinners.” Lucifer tilted his head, confusion had his brows furrowing, “But they can’t kill me.”

“But-But you said it probably wasn’t serious? How do you know? Who did this to you; what did they look like? I-I’ll go find them and—“

“Good golly, breathe! Just let it go, it doesn't matter.”

Your eyes flashed red to let him know the fire of your fury you was blazing. But your eyes glassed over as well, pupils shrinking and jumping across his face like you were memorizing every detail. You held him so gently, like he was going to disappear if you let go.

“Yes it does! It matters to me because you matter to me, Lucifer!”

You were scared.

“I-I—“ He was dizzy with euphoric disbelief. You could tell him every day that you cared about him and he would become breathless every damn time. “I killed them.” He managed to choke out.

You didn’t immediately relax like he had hoped you would. Exhaling through your nose you nodded once that hit him with another magical wave of pride, solidifying his choice and making him sit slightly straighter.

“Good.” Your voice dropped dangerously for a moment. He was presented with the terrifying reminder that you are a sinner, you’re down here for a reason. He couldn’t linger on the fact when the red wisped away from your eyes and returned to the lovely shade he remembered and adored. “That’s why you didn’t want Charlie to know.”

“Anyone,” He corrected softly before his voice turned almost bitter, “No one can know. It might give people the wrong impression if their king did the opposite of what his daughter’s hotel represented. Not-Not that I care what they think but… I don’t want to let her down. Again.”

You practically pulled him in your lap, tucking your chin against his shoulder and sighing heavily. Your warm breath tickled his skin and sent every hair he had standing at attention.

“Your secret’s safe with me.” You promised.

“How.. is it so easy for you to say that?”

“I dunno.” You said all too honestly, pulling back slightly to rest your forehead on his, “Some people make it easy.”

Content with that answer, for once his mind quieted and stilled. He melted against you until he was safely tangled in your embrace.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar imagine #poiboiwrites #hazbin hotel headcanon #lucifer morningstar headcanon

[princessbrunette]

kinktober : oct 31st (happy halloween!)

modern!anakin x aftercare

wow, finally at the end! here’s some much needed aftercare after a month of filthy smut. if you’re a new follower who has joined me along my kinktober journey, hi! i’m so happy you’re here and i hope you stay! if you’ve been with me from the start, i appreciate you sm. i see all your requests and i can’t wait to get to them. 🎀

it always takes you a while to come back to yourself after anakin fucks you.

it’s a combination of things, the exhaustion — considering he’ll never allow you to only cum once, and will often drag it out for as long as he can. the physical exertion on your body from the different positions you’d be held in would cause you to completely black out for a while, finally able to rest your head on the pillow whilst you catch your breath, thighs violently trembling. of course, a huge defining factor of why you would drift from reality for a moment would be due to how deep in subspace ani would have you. he’s so naturally dominant as it is, so when you fuck — best believe by the end you’ll feel reduced down to a being that purely exists to receive his praise, or please him, or whatever it is that day.

you always hear him before you feel him, it’s the procedure.

“baby.” he cooes quietly, still a little breathless himself. “you did well, sweetheart. my best girl, did so good for me.. gonna hold you now, that okay?” his voice is familiar, deep, comforting — but you’re still drifting through space. you don’t know how, but you manage a nod. you always do, you can’t bare to be apart from him any longer. after sex, you’re usually at your most clingy — needing him to ground you and cater to you until you’re back to yourself again.

“theeere we go.” he scoops you into his arms, pulling your cheek to his chest. he’s clammy, and so are you — but you can hear his heart thrumming against your ear and it just helps. he’s here. you’re here. it’s all okay.

“how was that, baby? any pain? don’t have to talk, can show me if you like.” anakin rasps, peeling himself back ever so slightly. you whine urgently, worried he’s pulling away from you fully and his gaze snaps towards you, keeping a firm but gentle hand on your back. “hey? you’re alright? i’m not going anywhere, my love. just need to see you, that’s all.” he comforts, the hand on your back now rubbing in a circle.

“don’t go.” a small voice leaves you, half muffled in his chest, your fingers digging into his thick tattooed bicep and you feel him nod.

“m’not. not going anywhere til you want me to. i’m gonna ask you my questions though, that okay?” he thumbs at the back of your neck, trying his best to make you feel cradled in his clutch. you nod, permitting him.

“okay sweet girl. are you hurting anywhere?” he repeats. it always astounds you how he manages to keep his voice so calm and… in charge. you’re not making any effort to claw your way out of your submissive mindset, infact if anything you’re sinking further into that hole but that was okay. it was warm and safe there, and sometimes you needed to cling on just a little longer.

“no. you were soft.” you speak and he kisses the top of your head in silent praise for speaking.

“yeah, i was nice on you today, hm?” he hums, pulling you impossibly closer. “are you gonna let me clean you up? or do you wanna cuddle?” he tilts his head, attempting to look at you. you lean upwards, wrapping your arms around his neck. “i’ll take that as cuddle.” he huffs out a laugh at your little groan into his neck, probably leaking your shared finish out of you and onto him.

“mhm.”

“mmmhm.” he repeats, adjusting to be more comfortable until you’re fully on top of him. “there she is. did a number on you today huh?” he rests a hand behind his head, looking down at you. you don’t respond, and he doesn’t expect you to— he’ll be there to hold you as long as you need.

#modern!anakin drabble #modern!anakin fluff #modern!anakin #anakin skywalker au #kinktober 2023

[artbyblastweave]

Hey so, thought exercise, how do you think Taylor would fare if she got dropped into the invincible universe? For the sake of mechanics let's say she literally gets dropped in via doorman portal or something.

So one thing about Invincible is that I think it's setting is protagonist-centric in a way that Worm's isn't. To the extent that Invincible's setting has worldbuilding- worldbuilding that isn't, like, ported in from the books's early association with the confederated Image Comics shared universe- it's worldbuilding that exists to convey the impression of a big-two-flavor universe. Here's our spin on the undersea kingdom, here's the riff on the Martians, here are our riffs on SHIELD, on Gotham, on Themyscira, on 70s blaxploitation-adjacent heroes, and so on. This is the entire ethos underpinning the Guardians of the Globe in particular- piggybacking on pre-existing audience affection for the Justice League to convey that it's a Big Fucking Deal when the guardians get blendered in issue 7.

You have flashbacks demonstrating that there was capital-S Superhero Stuff going on in the seventies and eighties, or as far back as the thirties with Immortal, you create the impression of a status quo, a big pond in which Mark is a little fish. And to Kirkman's credit, some effort clearly went into making sure that the non-Mark capes are sufficiently fleshed out that you can believe that they've got other stuff going on in their lives. But at the end of the day, it's the Invincible universe. You don't see a lot of people talking about the Guarding the Globe spinoff. Many of the most interesting characters- Cecil being a big example here- are interesting because of the ways in which they bounce off Mark specifically, the ways in which he chooses to deal with them. The universe is less of a character in the story the way that Earth Bet is- it's just the place where Mark's story, specifically, is happening. If there's a codified setting bible, I'll eat my hat.

Now of course the world of Worm is, in many ways, equally Taylor-centric, because that's what it means to be the protagonist. But owing in part to the themes of the story, and in part to the sheer number of false-start protagonists Wildbow played around with before settling on Taylor, it's very good at conveying the idea that there are many stories happening in this setting and Taylor's is just the one this particular work happened to focus on. There's an actual point to doing OC worldbuilding for what the superhero scene looks like in Wormverse Denver or Seattle or whatever- whereas you can come up with superhero teams for Invincible-verse Denver, but what actually ties them to that universe? What are you getting out of putting them in Invincible specifically, that you wouldn't get from whipping up a barebones MASKS setting to support your OCs? Anyway. This is a really long way of getting to my real point, which is that I think the question is less "how does Taylor bounce off the Invincible setting" and more "How does Taylor bounce off Invincible the character, around whom the setting orbits even when it pretends not to."

This I'm unsure of, because where do you stick her in his life where you get an interesting dynamic? One thing that's interesting here is that Mark's overall character arc already involves learning a lot of taylorisms- the strategic ruthlessness, the shift from a good-evil dichotomy to a helping-not-helping dichotomy-so what about his arc is going to change if they spend time together? Why would they spend time together? Given the different power levels on display, what would differentiate her, in his experience, from the dozens of filler capes that exist for him at the level of "vague acquaintance?" This is assuming she's active as a cape at all, which she might not be if this is Post-GM. Mutual association through Cecil and the Global Defense Agency might be a hook- maybe they're paying for her new arm or something- but would she latch her cart to Cecil's wagon in the first place, barring some obvious crisis situation? Hard to say. If she's depowered, and present in his life somehow in a civilian context, well, that's a fast-track to not being part of the story anymore either, given how Mark's civilian connections slowly fading away was kind of a quiet plot point.

There's some configuration of these pieces that could be interesting, but I'm not quite sure what they are. Soliciting input here.

#parahumans #worm #wildbow #invincible #taylor hebert #mark grayson #thoughts #meta #ask #asks

[brewstersbru]

Queerplatonic Radioapple 📻 🍎,,, old men (losers) who care abt e/o

The thing about being an angel is that there are always bloodier, messier ways to do things. There’s an easy way, and there’s a fun way, and despite what they would have you believe, angels are much too bored with eternity to choose anything but the fun way anymore.

Lucifer curses whatever twisted being made him and bestowed his powers upon him- God- then backtracks in his own head, still deathly afraid of being heard and punished. Then, once he remembers that no one is listening, haven’t been for centuries, he curses them again.

Charlie is worried about Alastor. He hasn’t been acting himself these past few days. Rarely leaves his tower unless summoned, his smiles have become tight-lipped and straining. Even with the cursory attention Lucifer has paid him- busy with trying to make up for too many years in a hole- it’s not hard to see that Charlie is right, and something is wrong.

All it takes is a quick, plausibly accidental stroll outside of his rooms to tell Lucifer what it is. Charlie hadn’t asked him to snoop, but she’s nervous. Doesn’t want to lose another friend. Lucifer would do anything and everything to Fix It, and in order to get to that point he needs to know what’s wrong. So he snoops.

The pungent reek of demon blood poisoned with holy light permeates the air around Alastor’s rooms. To anyone but Lucifer it probably doesn’t smell too different, Alastor has very obviously put a lot of effort into covering the stench with rancid deer meat, and gamey sinner. Lucifer knows what a holy wound smells like, though, hell he’s not sure why he didn’t recognize it before now. Alastor’s obviously put in work to keep this a secret but it shouldn’t have worked for this long against the literal king of hell. He’s distracted, too comfortable, needs to sharpen the hell up if he has any plans of actually protecting his daughter and her passion project in any meaningful way.

Once he knows what is wrong, it’s not difficult to devise a fix. What is difficult, is coming to terms with what that will entail.

The way he sees it, there are three ways out of this situation. One, he tells Alastor he knows that he’s still hurt and offers to heal the wound through touch, which will take approximately an hour after which they never have to speak again. That one’s mostly a bust simply because Lucifer reckons Alastor won’t let him get past the first part without mauling him.

Two, he lets Alastor die of being a stubborn, pissy bastard. This one’s not really an option considering the whole reason he’s going through all of this trouble is so that Charlie will stop worrying. Killing him won’t stop the worrying, no matter how much he wishes it would.

Finally, unfortunately the only feasible plan, is to siphon the poison from the wound over time. Slowly imbuing Alastor’s soul with his own, tainted holy energy in order to heal the wound over time. If he does it right, Alastor won’t even know he was healed. The unfortunate part about this plan is that it doesn’t rid the wound from existence like a touch would, it simply transfers it from one soul to another. Lucifer will be taking the wound onto himself, where he can work on healing it naturally, as his body is not poisoned by the purity of angelic wounds. It will hurt, but it will heal. If the wound is left on Alastor, it will never heal.

Begrudging, but still determined to be as useful as possible to Charlie before he inevitably fucks everything up again, Lucifer resolves to go through with plan number three. It takes a week. Seven days of gradually increasing pain, of magicking golden stains from his coat, then being winded from using magic, of sewing himself together each night only to wake up in a pool of his own blood because the wound had grown larger while he slept.

It takes seven days, but at the end of it, Alastor is as chipper as ever, and the crease between Charlie’s brows has smoothed into something joyful. The wound now spans the length of Lucifer’s chest, wrapping around his torso near his ribs and up to his rightmost shoulder blade. Honestly, he’s not sure how Alastor survived so long like this and feels a grudging respect at the man for having pushed through.

The wound throbs, and every so often it will twinge, as if Lucifer were being cut in half- scored and carved all over again- but when he walks downstairs on the morning of the eighth day and finds Alastor cooking, Charlie seated, legs kicking happily at the island… He knows it’s worth it. Any amount of pain would be worth the sheer relief on Charlie’s face as she tracks Alastor’s every move, still looking for any irregularities. Something like pride swells within Lucifer at the knowledge that she will find none. He did that. He brought her that solace. No one will ever know, but that wasn’t the point of it.

“Good morning your majesty!” Alastor crows from the stove, he doesn’t turn to greet him. For a moment Lucifer wonders how he had known he was there, but a pair of eyes glinting in the shadows of the hallway tells him all he needs to know about that. Charlie perks and glances over at him as he’s addressed.

“Good morning, Alastor! You seem awful chipper today, feeling better?” No one will know he helped Alastor, yes, but that doesn’t mean he cant have fun with this. Just the look on his face right now- a smile, frozen, as his brows draw inward in incredulity- is worth the twinge that talking elicits.

Alastor, always the performer, recovers easily. “I’ve no idea what you mean! I have not been sick in decades, your majesty.”

Lucifer only chuckles, hiding his wince by taking a seat next to Charlie at the island. God why does it hurt so much? Why can’t he focus on anything else? Michael had torn off his fucking wings and stabbed him through the heart with blessed steel when he cast him down to hell and he can’t handle a little holy light from Adam? Eternity has made him soft. It’s fucking pathetic.

“Apologies, I didn’t mean to presume. You had Charlie worried!” He grits, trying to keep his voice even and chipper. Charlie smacks him on the arm and he has to fight off a groan. Fucking. Worthless.

“Dad! I wasn’t- I just- UGH.” She stutters, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I still can’t believe we sent you to deal with Adam alone. That never should’ve happened, Al, I’m so so so so sorr-“

Alastor cuts her off with a grin, sliding a steaming plate of eggs, bacon and toast in front of her. “No need, my dear! As you can see I’m right as rain and in one piece.” His eyes slide over to Lucifer for a moment and he hums.

“Would you like some breakfast, your majesty?” He asks, turning back to the stove. Lucifer shakes his head, then regrets it when it makes him dizzy.

“I’m alright, thank you. Had a big dinner.” He manages. Alastor hums again, and Lucifer isn’t sure whether that means he believes him or not.

Charlie finishes her meal in quiet, comfortable conversation with Alastor, some of the other hotel residents who stop in for a bite and, occasionally, Lucifer when he manages to push down the nausea enough to speak without fear of barfing all over her nice pantsuit.

She leaves with little fanfare, but she does pull Lucifer into a side hug that, while agonizing, he will cherish forever. The rest of the ‘reformees’ make their way through the kitchen for the next thirty minutes until Charlie calls everyone to the atrium for some bonding exercises. Alastor does not make any move to leave the kitchen at the announcement, so Lucifer doesn’t, either. He’s also unsure of his ability to not pass out if he stands right now.

It’s so warm in the kitchen, Alastor had the ovens on for cinnamon rolls and it smells heavenly. If Lucifer closes his eyes, he can almost imagine that Lilith is still here, that he hasn’t fucked it all up with Charlie yet. He dozes on the thick marble of the island, chest still twinging, but strangely at peace.

It’s another five minutes of warm silence before the clink of a plate beside his elbow rouses him. A warmth settles to his right.

Blinking his eyes open, Lucifer catches sight of Alastor looking at him. Through him, might be a better description of the action; his eyes rove, calculating over the planes of Lucifer’s face. Alastor isn’t frowning- he never frowns- but there’s a crease between his eyebrows. Maybe those are like wounds, too, they don’t heal they just transfer to another person. Maybe Charlie’s just transferred to him, like his wound had transferred to Lucifer.

Lucifer snorts to himself at his own little joke. The crease deepens.

“You were not at supper last night.” Alastor prompts, finally. Lucifer isn’t quite sure how that’s relevant right now.

“Yeah, and neither were you.” Check and mate. A bit of radio static pierces through the air at his quip. Lucifer smiles to himself, sitting up.

With the knowledge that he’s under scrutiny, he puts more work into affecting his usual trite joviality. Alastor simply raises a brow as he hands him a fork and gestures to the full plate in front of him. Lucifer is shocked still for a moment. Alastor made this food. He made it, and he’s giving some to Lucifer? Of his own volition? Lucifer takes a moment to rack his brain for any side effects of the siphoning that might make him act like this but the only possible explanation is the sheer adrenaline of relief, knowing you’re not dying anymore.

“You made this for me?” Lucifer asks, voice small. He can’t remember the last time someone cooked for him. Hell, he can’t remember the last time he ate anything. He doesn’t need to, not really, but it’s nice when there’s love in it. When someone takes the time to care about him in this way. Lucifer’s never found himself all too worth cooking for, and that’s most of the reason why he didn’t, in all those years spent alone since Charlie and Lilith leaving.

Alastor rolls his eyes.

“Obviously. It would be rude not to indulge, you know. So get to it!” His voice is filled with static, it takes a moment for Lucifer to parse his words. He takes the proffered fork and takes a small bite of the scrambled eggs. Father Almighty. They’re perfectly fluffy, well seasoned and just the right temperature! Lucifer can’t help the pleased sound that escapes him at the taste. He glances up at Alastor to find that his grin has turned smug. Whatever. Lucifer’s not going to lie to him.

“This is really good. Thanks.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Lucifer takes another bite before asking, “Do you want some? I know you haven’t been eating, either, and you probably need it more than me.”

Alastor’s eyes narrow and Lucifer gets the creeping feeling he’s let something slip.

“This is the second time you’ve referenced an invented affliction of mine. I would appreciate if you refrained from now on.” Alastor hisses, the air around the two of them practically sizzles with electricity.

‘Imagined’ hah! He wishes. Lucifer raises an eyebrow, he makes it too easy.

“You’re awful defensive for someone who supposedly didn’t have an affliction.” He drawls. Alastor’s eyes flicker green as he stands, abruptly.

“Put your dish in the washer when you’re done. I will see you another time.” He grits, stalking out of the room. It’s not until he leaves that Lucifer notices that he’d cleaned everything up. The sink is empty and the stove is spick and span. The only dish left is Lucifer’s plate and fork; he’d saved him a portion.

Lucifer does as told and hobbles up to his rooms with a smile on his face and a full stomach. Maybe this whole siphoning thing wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

***

This siphoning thing was such a fucking bad idea. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.

Lucifer curses to himself as he hobbles to the bathroom situated on the skywalk between his and Alastor’s rooms. His stitches had popped in the middle of one of his unfortunately timed yearly nightmares about falling. So, on top of the popped stitches, he’d scratched his arms bloody, too. Usually when he gets like this he doesn’t bother leaving his room, the cuts will heal themselves as soon as he gets to his door, anyway. But with the extra energy his body is expending on healing the Adam Wound, they just keep bleeding, sluggishly.

It’s been a couple days and the wound has been looking better, but it’s slow going. Lucifer shudders to think what would’ve happened to Alastor if he’d kept trying to live with it. Speaking of Alastor, the bastard’s been making him breakfast every day now; and if Lucifer doesn’t make it down during the hour he spends cooking, he sets aside a portion and puts it in the fridge.

Lucifer doesn’t know if this is his way of being nice, or if he’s luring him in to try and poison him one of these days. Either way, it’s always nice to be cooked for. Poison wouldn’t work on him, anyways.

There’s a pit in his stomach, growling and gnawing for something warm to satiate it- something Alastor-made- as Lucifer bleeds ichor onto the carpet. He pushes the feeling, and the resulting shame, down deep within himself. How low can he get, really? Fuck. Pining for kind gestures from a man who ostensibly wants to kill him? How far can he fucking fall.

The door to the restroom is open when he gets there, which Lucifer is all too thankful for. He pushes, with some effort, into the darkness.

A part of him considers turning on the light, but he has no issues seeing in the dark, and it seems like a lot of work to go through for no reason. With a groan, he bends down to grab the medkit from below the sink, then sits himself on the closed toilet.

With shuddering breaths, he snaps his shaking fingers, doubling over as his night shirt dissipates. “God- fuck!” He sucks a breath through his teeth.

Lucifer stays folded over for a moment, taking the time to breathe once, twice, before unfurling into a now familiar agony.

He grabs a hand towel and shoves it between his teeth to muffle any unwitting noises he might make- he’d found out the hard way that he’s a screamer a long time ago- and threads the suture needle with dental floss. He ran out of actual suture thread yesterday and, not wanting to alarm Charlie or let anything slip, hadn’t asked where he could find more. Dental floss has worked before, and it’ll work now. It just won’t be as pretty as it usually is.

Lucifer has just begun stitching himself up- letting little whines and whimpers into the hand towel tightly clenched between his teeth with each tug of the floss- when the door to the bathroom bursts open and a humming Alastor strides through the threshold. He flicks on the light- though Lucifer’s unsure why, as he doesn’t need it to see, either- and immediately makes eye contact with Lucifer. Then the hand towel clamped in his teeth. Then the giant bleeding wound on his chest. Then the eight golden scores in his arms.

His eyes widen a fraction, then narrow into a glare.

He strides up to Lucifer and grabs at his jaw, but the hold is surprisingly gentle. Alastor runs a finger along the area until it loosens enough for him to wrestle the towel from his lips.

Lucifer’s not sure if he should feel threatened or not. It’s not like Alastor can do anything to him. Not anything he hasn’t felt before, at least.

Why is the steel in his eyes so terrifying, then, though?

“Explain.”

Alastor says the word quietly, but somehow his voice seems to echo in the room. Lucifer sits tall, unwilling to be made ashamed of what he’s done. What he’s tried to do, to help.

“You never would have let me close enough to heal you through touch. You know that. And Charlie would have been devastated if you died because you were too much of an uptight prick to let other people care about you. This was the only way. I’ll heal. You wouldn’t.”

Lucifer’s voice is raspy, a little hoarse from the agony of the night. He has to clear his throat a few times during the monologue. Alastor stares at him through the entire thing, eyes burning against the side of his face. It’s silent for a while and Lucifer is acutely aware of the fact that he’s still bleeding.

“Now if you don’t mind, I have sutures to-” Alastor cuts him off with a vague scratch of radio static, “Give me the needle.”

Lucifer hesitates, so he repeats himself, enunciating each word.

“Give. Me. The. Needle.”

Lucifer does. He’s nervous for a moment- god knows why- but it’s like he’s been telling himself: Alastor physically can’t do anything to him that hasn’t already been done. He’ll be fine. Alastor pulls a stool from thin air and settles himself next to Lucifer.

He expects a sharp, focused pain. Tiny cruel little stabs done in excess to teach him a lesson about doing Alastor ‘favors’. But Alastor’s hands are warm and gentle against the golden shreds of his midsection. Each suture is measured and careful, he moves slowly through the motions and keeps a steadying hand against Lucifer’s side as he works. He does not look at him, though, entirely focused on the task at hand.

The gentleness is off-putting, and it makes something flighty bang around in Lucifer’s chest. He suddenly feels the urgent need to apologize.

“I’m sorry, Alastor. I should’ve asked but I was afraid it would take too long. I’m surprised you’re still alive now given the state the wound was in when I first transferred it.” Lucifer chuckles. Alastor does not join him. He babbles on.

“I don’t regret it, though. And I’d do it again if I needed to. I mean have you seen Charlie lately? She’s got the pep back in her step! And you, you’re up and cooking again. Everyone’s so happy you’re back in the apron.”

Alastor hums, finishing up the sutures on his chest and immediately moving to the deepest gashes on his arms. Lucifer is just about to protest- really, those ones will heal soon enough, they don’t need anything- when Alastor speaks.

“What about you?”

Lucifer cocks his head. Huh?

“What about me?” He asks.

Alastor chuckles, pressing some antiseptic into a different hand towel than the one Lucifer had been biting on and passing it over the- now sewn- cuts on his forearm. The sting barely registers. It’s so needless. It’s so wasteful.

“You speak of all of these benefits but I fail to see how any of them pertain to you. Aside from your obvious need for your daughter’s approval, of course.” He says.

That stings a little, which is strange because none of it is untrue. Of course he wants Charlie’s approval; it’s the fucking least he could do after everything he’s made her face alone.

Lucifer shrugs, pushing Alastor’s hands away when they try to tend to his other arm.

“What’s it matter? I don’t need the benefits to ‘pertain to me’, I don’t do anything for these people,” he spreads his arms around to emphasize his point, “not like you or Charlie do. Besides, I’ve been selfish enough already, don’t you think?” The gesture he makes this time is similar to before, but he points through the restroom door to the window that lines the skywalk. Moreso conveying the idea ‘see what my selfishness has already culminated into? Eternal damnation for millions of souls’. Alastor raises an eyebrow.

“And what would your daughter think of this… philosophy of yours?” His voice is low, and he reaches out to grab Lucifer’s arm back into his own grip. Still gentle, but firmer than before. Lucifer doesn’t fight him on it and his eyes light up at the success. That’s… oddly endearing for a murderer-cannibal.

Lucifer shrugs once more. He doesn’t really see the point Alastor is trying to make, he’s thought this through. He knows what he’s doing.

“Doesn’t really matter, does it? She’s never going to know and we’re going to keep it that way. She’s got a bleeding heart, probably got it from her old man,” Lucifer chuckles self-depreciatingly, “it wouldn’t do her any good.”

Alastor finishes with the last bandage- more unnecessary, needless waste on wounds that will heal tomorrow- and runs the antiseptic towel under warm water before wiping Lucifer clean of his own blood. His touch is just as light as it was before, it’s driving Lucifer insane. Why won’t he just hurt him already. He knows he’s itching for it.

“You are not what I thought you would be.” Alastor says, finally, tossing the towel into the laundry basket in the corner of the room. His eyes raise, finally, to meet Lucifer’s own shocked gaze. He can’t muster up a response; what is he supposed to say to that? Is it a good thing? Probably not. A bad thing? Well, then he doesn’t need more fuel for his ‘bad thoughts’ journal.

Thankfully, Alastor continues, “Next time, simply come talk to me. I don’t want this to happen again.” He stands, brushing imaginary dust off of his overcoat- which, now that Lucifer is paying attention, why is he still in his overcoat at three in the morning?

Lucifer snaps his fingers- now embarrassed by his own state of undress and reinvigorated by the tender touches- and rematerializes his nightshirt. Alastor levels him with a disapproving glare when he reels from the exertion.

“Now why did you go and do that? I could have gotten you a shirt, and then you wouldn’t be dizzy. Pity you’re so stubborn.” He comments, with just the slightest tinge of frustration. It thrills something in Lucifer to be able to get that reaction out of him, even in this diminished state.

“Yeah. Pity. Look, I’m not going to promise you this won’t happen again. I’m going to do what’s best for Charlie and this hotel, always.” Lucifer’s voice breaks a little at the latter end of the sentence, he can’t bring himself to meet Alastor’s eyes.

There’s silence for a moment, then a clawed finger flicks delicately at his chin, tilting his head up. Alastor sighs when he keeps his gaze low.

“Stubborn. I am not asking you not to do it- you were right, I probably wouldn’t have gone for the touch healing- I am asking you to do me the courtesy of checking first, before you act. Is that clear?”

Lucifer mulls over the words for a moment, considering his options. All in all it’s not a bad deal, and if this experience has taught him anything it’s that it’s nice to have someone in your corner, willing to help if you let them in. Charlie is in his corner, but she’s also his daughter, and it will never be her job to help him with anything for as long as he is alive. Alastor’s offering.

Lucifer nods, hesitantly.

“I can do that. Thanks.”

Alastor shakes his head before turning towards the door.

“Put some of the green tube on your chest wound every night before bed. If your arms don’t heal by tomorrow, add some there too. Don’t exert yourself. I’ll know if you pop your stitches again.”

And with that laundry list of care, he disappears into the night. Lucifer looks at the stitching on his chest, wondering if he was being serious, or if he was just bluffing about knowing.

Three cross stitches glow a neon green right next to each other in the middle of his chest “X X X”.

Ah, so that’s how. Sneaky bastard.

Still, though, Lucifer smiles all the way back to his room, and if he notices a shadow tailing him on his way there, he doesn’t say anything about it.

#radioapple #queerplatonic #old men #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #theyre so odd and weird about affection #oh u didnt maul me and u made me food? #what do u like me or smth? #something something giving a monumental sacrifice and acting like its nothing bc if you dont you have to grapple w the fact that you care #anyways #brublurbs #enjoy idk how long this is but it took four hrs to write !

[shares-a-vest]

@flufftober Spring Edition Day 1: New Beginnings

wc: 590 | Rated: T for Canon-Typical Swearing | cw: One mention of cigarettes

Tags: First Apartment, Moving In, Steddie Cat Dads, Robin Buckley, Erica Sinclair, Dustin Henderson, Wayne Munson

Note: For the next two weeks, I'll be writing little ficlets within my Joanie Munson AU for this Spring Edition of Flufftober. Hopefully, I can fulfil each day – that's the goal anyway seeing as I couldn't participate too much last Flufftober. Nothing too elaborate, all stand-alone ficlets (as always) in this AU.

‘Steddie’s Tiny First Apartment’

Steve sets down the last moving box, placing it amongst the others. He stands upright and hums contentedly as he looks around the cramped, already messy, box-filled apartment.

His new beginning with Eddie.

Eddie who is coming up right behind him, so hot on his heels with excitement (and not a thing in hand) as he steps inside, he knocks square into him.

Steve yelps and stumbles forward.

But Eddie catches him, one hand on his polo sleeve, the other looping around his middle at break-neck speed.

“Easy there, sweetheart,” Eddie playfully warns, pulling them flush and bringing his other arm up to lock Steve firmly in an embrace.

“You ran into me,” he quips, giggling.

“We’re here,” Eddie sing-song whispers in his ear, a grin evident in his beaming, gleeful voice.

Steve nods, smiling as he leans into his partner’s touch.

He wants to stay like this – the two of them together.

In this place.

Their home.

“Cats incoming!” Robin announces, pushing through the doorway.

She bumps into them hard and Steve’s knee connects with a rather solid box, the contents of which gives a thud.

That one must be Box Number Twenty of Eddie’s books...

“Fuck – Rob!” he splutters, rubbing at the pain as Eddie continues holding onto him for dear life.

He watches on as he best friend tip-toes about, dodging boxes and knickknacks, misplaced furniture and random clothes, records and already-wilting houseplants as she cradles a very displeased – and freed from the confines of his cat carrier – Ozzy.

She only just makes it to the haphazardly placed thrifted couch when the demonic scamp leaps from her embrace with a bellowing meow! and scurries away.

“Why did you take him out of his carrier?” Eddie whines, practically shouting into Steve’s already-sensitive ears.

“That boy needs to roam free!” Robin argues, stretching her arms out wide and spinning around to make her point, “Besides, he started hissing at me in the car.”

She continues moving and almost runs off-kilter into Claudia Henderson’s old coffee table.

“Well, now he’s going to – ” Eddie begins, cut off with an elbow to the ribs as Dustin barges his way into the apartment.

“Precious cargo!” he yells, his voice reverberating around them as he carries Eddie’s DND folder and screen across his arms, keeping them steady and balanced with what looks like Herculean effort.

Erica follows not a second later, holding nothing but a purple string bag she swings about with abandon.

Steve can feel his eyes bulging out of his skull at the lack of assistance being carried out by two individuals who all but forced their way into the Beemer for the no-longer-final trip to Chicago.

But Steve doesn’t manage to get past open his mouth to complain because Eddie lets go of his steel-grip hold on him and launches himself clean over the aforementioned last box to snatch up the string bag.

He opens it up to expect the contents, mouths a count of his dice and brings the bag tight to his chest.

Eddie looks up and his face promptly drops as he looks over Steve’s shoulder – likely to the source of the sudden, strong scent of cigarettes.

“You were supposed to come back down to the truck, boy,” Wayne Munson grumbles, huffing away as he brings in a box labelled, ‘KITCHEN’.

Eddie begins muttering some excuse but Steve can’t find himself caring too much about the impending Munson Squabble.

Their new home could really use a collectable coffee mug or ten.

#fluffspring2024 #day 1 #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie ficlet #steddie as girl-dads #i'm already a touch late with day 1 but i've got a few written so i'll be back on track tomorrow

[hazelsmirrorball]

Bad idea right? Jason Todd x Fem! reader

pairings: Ex! Jason Todd x Fem! Reader

Summary: Jason hits his ex girlfriend up

Warnings: suggested language, exes, english isn’t my main language 

a/n:  I’m back! Wrote this in my literature class bored as hell. Hope you guys like it. 

[MASTERLIST]

Y/n pushed past the sweaty bodies as she attempted to keep herself steady after drinking everything people offered her on the bar. Ever since her single days started, everyday has been the same. Bing watching TV shows while  eating ice cream. So when her friends came to her apartment and forced her to hang out, her routine was off the rails.  She was really fucked up after she decided to have a shot. Because one became two and two became seven. She missed having fun.  She missed hanging out with her friends. Y/n loved to hang out with them but being in a relationship made it pretty hard. She would usually spend her nights worrying if her boyfriend, well ex boyfriend, was going to come back alive. 

But now, It’s been four months since she had ended things with Jason Todd and she could do whatever she wants. She didn’t have to spend those nights wide awake waiting for him. She didn’t have to clean his wounds. Things were different now, she was her top priority.  If you asked her if she was over him, she would answer without a doubt no. But her actions would say otherwise.

Obviously she still cared for Jason. They had dated for four years and the thought of getting married would pass the couple's mind. But the last few months of their relationship, Jason got  distant and Y/n couldn’t even recognize him anymore. So their little talk became a fight and ended up with them breaking up. She did miss Jason. His sweet smile, his supportive aura and just him. She still loved him and four months and alcohol won’t change that. So when her phone started ringing the ringtone she assigned him she found herself pushing past the people worrying something was wrong with him. 

 As Y/n headed to the other side of the bar she pulled out her phone from her back pocket noticing the number that was calling her. Her finger hovered over the answer button hesitating if it was a good idea to answer. This was supposed to be a girls night, Jason was not supposed to be in the picture. If she answered she wouldn’t hear the end of it. She was supposed to be over Jason. Jason should be blocked. Pictures should be deleted. But there she was debating on answering her ex-boyfriend's late night call.  When Y/n  looked back down she noticed that Jason had stopped calling and had opted to send her a text. Her face lit up from the light that was coming out of the phone.  Four text messages. 

Hey Y/n. 

Just wanted to check up on you. I haven't heard anything about you in a minute. 

I have a new apartment so if you want to pass by. 

I’m all alone and needing company. 

Y/n felt a shiver around her body as she reread the message. Was there something encrypted in those text messages? Jason hadn’t attempted to talk to her ever since they broke up. Why was trying to act like everything was fine? She was aware that they were done. Y/n knew they were through but reading those messages made her feel something.  She shouldn’t be doing this. They were broken up and it was for a reason. Jason hadn’t made an effort before, why come around all of a sudden. It wasn’t one of her greatest ideas. She was having fun, here, with her friends. Without Jason. But part of her thought she could have a better time with him. 

“Fuck. Seeing him tonight. Is a bad idea right?” Y/n said to herself as she reread the message once again.  When Y/n finally pushed past the sea of people she pull the door to the outside of the bar open. Turning the phone off she let out a muffled scream pulling on her hair. She let out a sigh as she started pacing back and forth taking in her options. 

“Should I go? Like yes, I know that he's my ex, but can't two people reconnect? I only see him as a friend. We are friends? Friends can hang out.There’s no tension. Okay that literally is the biggest lie I’ve ever said. This is literally a late night booty call.  I can’t lie to myself and act like I don’t want to go. But after all the shit I’ve said if I go I would hate myself for it. But if I don’t go I’ll also hate myself for it. Seeing him tonight. Is a bad idea right? Yes, no, maybe? You know what. Fuck it, it’s fine”  She yelled to herself as she called a cab and reading the address to the driver. 

Y/n L/n has regretted doing a lot of things in her life. But sitting at the back of the taxi car wanting for her to be dropped off at Jason’s house, made her think. She couldn’t name the list of things she has regretted doing but she could name things she didn’t regret doing and that was standing outside of Jason Todd’s apartment. 

There he was. Jason Todd, in all his glory. Smiling at her with the smile she had fallen deeply for. She could say she had seen hotter men but seeing him with some loose sweatpants laying on his hips made her feel things she couldn’t even explain. God, when she looked at him her brain just said nonsense and she couldn’t even read her thoughts. All she could think of was the things that were going to happen once she entered that room.

“It’s nice seeing you, Y/n. You look good” Jason replied, pulling her into a hug. Y/n happily  hugged him back taking in his strong cologne making her fall into a deeper trance. She could feel Jason rub her lower back as she hid her face on his neck not wanting to let go. They stood like that for a few minutes but the cool breeze from the Gotham night made them pull away.  Jason leaned back against   the door letting her scoot past him.  Y/n walked in looking around analyzing the apartment. Noticing the alcohol empty bottles all around the room made her think that Jason was in the same state as her. His apartment was small, if you were in the kitchen you could take two steps and you would be in his room. So there they were. Jason sat at the edge of the bed and Y/n sat closely next to him. 

“So, how are things? How is the family?” Jason asked as he looked forward, not daring to look at her. Y/n blinked several times, getting annoyed. Regretting for an instant being here. 

“Just kiss me already, Jay” Y/n replied, turning towards him. At the sound of the nickname that he missed hearing the past few months. Jason picked Y/n up by the waist with ease desperately  kissing her lips. Hunger. That’s what it felt kissing each other after four months. None of them wanted to lose each other. Y/n bit his lips and Jason gripped on her waist probably leaving his mark there.  She pushed him harshly against the bed letting his lips go. She looked down at him, noticing his unsteady breathing. Jason sent her a loopy smile her way and all she could think about was that she didn’t regret being here. She only saw him as a friend,  tripping  and falling into his bed. 

No, it wasn’t a bad idea. 

…

Y/n groaned as she turned to the side searching for her ringing phone. When she finally  got a hold of it she noticed Jason's strong grip on her. She hid a smile as Jason parted lips let out little snores, his eye furrowed unintentionally. For a second Y/n forgot the rigging phone in her hand as her eyes wandered on Jason's bare chest. Her finger traced on top of Jason’s scars. Jason's eyes fluttered open glaring at her playfully. Y/n snapped back to reality moving her phone towards her eyes answering quickly. 

“Finally! Where the hell are you, girl?” Y/n friend exclaimed loudly as Y/n pulled the phone away trying not to hear her that loudly. 

“I decided to go to bed early. That’s all” Y/n responded while hearing her friend letting out a sigh of relief. As she did that Jason let out a chuckle gaining her friends attention.

“Wait, is there someone with you? Y/n” she exclaimed once again before Jason could say anything Y/n covered his mouth. 

Even if it wasn’t a bad idea, her friends didn’t have to know she was under Jason Todd sheets.

[MASTERLIST]

#imagines #jason x reader #jason #jason todd #batman #nightwing #jason todd x reader #batfamily #jason todd imagine #x reader #redhoodxreader #red hood x reader #redhood #red hood #robin #dcimagine #dcimagines #dc titans #dc x reader #dc #batman imagine #robin imagine #oneshot #titants #dick grayson imagine #nightwing x reader #dick grayson #dick x reader

[awsydawnarts]

Just saw some posts defending and discussing Gale and felt like throwing some of my current thoughts on the topic out into the void

I feel like it’s unfair to be too harsh on him for the actions he took as part of the war effort. Yes, Gale invented an incredibly fucked up weapon that caused the deaths of many innocent people, not just Prim. Yes, Gale suggested strategies that would have caused undeserved mass death and devastation. Yes, Gale was angry and cruel and violent and ultimately a destructive force rather than a constructive one. But you cannot look me in the eye and say that after everything Gale has been through-growing up poor and literally starving, losing a parent and having to step up as the head of his family, watching the obscenely rich use his peers as entertainment in their sick murder games that his best friend was eventually sent to and ultimately lost to (even though she survived)-you cannot say that you or otherwise good people you know wouldn’t have turned out the same way when all was said and done. Gale lived a life ravaged by tragedy, and he did the best he could in the circumstances he was in. At the end of the day, we have no right to judge him because we will never be in his shoes and have to make the choices he made during the war.

Completely pivoting here. On the other hand, Gale was a terrible friend and love interest to Katniss over the course of the books and deserves our full judgment and ire for it. His choices about the war are not a real part of life that most of us will experience. His choices regarding Katniss are. Everyone will encounter people who are jealous, insecure, and entitled in the ways that Gale is towards Katniss. Gale isn’t a villain. Gale is, however, very toxic, and absolutely an unnecessary presence in Katniss’s life after she comes back from the first games and he starts being a little bitch about Peeta. I haven’t reread the books in several months so I can’t pull up specific instances with page numbers and everything but Gale’s behavior towards Katniss is really gross and demanding, and he prioritizes what he wants rather than what she needs, such as when he gets pissy that she won’t leave Peeta to get tortured for information after they survived the trauma murder games together. He sees their relationship as transactional and Katniss as a part of life that is “his”, shown by how he realized he had feelings for her-when someone else was flirting with her and he realized he was jealous. Gale feels like Katniss owes him a relationship when she owes him nothing. He operates with no regard for her feelings and no consideration of her PTSD and how important Peeta is to her, while Peeta uses Gale as a reason for Katniss to survive the Quarter Quell. Gale can’t acknowledge what a horrific experience Katniss has been through and how much it’s changed her, and his lack of empathy towards her trauma is what really pushes them apart in the end. Prim was just the nail in the coffin.

I could go on but this is not a love triangle post, I’m trying to make points about Gale. I know it’s fun to shit on him (I’ve done my fair share), but I think it’s important to acknowledge why he behaves the way that he does and offer him *some* sympathy for his actions. Gale’s story is ultimately a tragedy, and I pity him for being put in situations where he was able to act on his darkest impulses and desires.

(He deserves NO sympathy for Katniss choosing to save herself the headache of being anchored to his insecure, selfish ass for the rest of her life though, get fucked Gale)

#gale hawthorne #thg #the hunger games #gale salt #although I am being remarkably positive about him lol #katniss everdeen #everlark #marginally #mine

[nininikki]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐑𝐘: e. jaeger x black fem!reader

(ꕥ) summary! — love had never made you feel this shitty before. (part two can be read here.)

(ꕥ) warnings! — toxic relationships, lots of angst, implications of sex, alcohol consumption, vomiting, reader & eren are in college, (doesn’t play a huge role, but it’s implied) eren is very toxic, reader is also very stuck, i love mikasa, but she’s not very great here haha 😅 (don’t kill me pls)

(ꕥ) author’s note! — first thing i’m publishing on here, lol. wrote it in two days, which i’m sure you can tell. whatever. don’t think too hard. just vibe ok. lmk if i missed anything in the warnings!!

(ꕥ) word count! — 2.7k

love wasn’t exactly the word. at least, it couldn’t have been, right? surely something as pure and innocent and good as love couldn’t have led to an outcome like this.

it couldn’t have led to you taking him back time and time again, doling out infinite chances, and losing a bit of your dignity every time you did.

it wasn’t even supposed to be like this. hell, the two of you weren’t even dating. despite what he’d made you think. what, with the surprise dates, expensive bouquet deliveries, and his ironclad adamance that you didn’t do anything like that with anyone else.

that last part in particular was your selling point. you could vividly recount the times he’d talked you out of going on various dates for reasons you had been stupid enough to believe. maybe you were an idiot for allowing yourself to entertain it, but you’d try not to drive yourself insane dwelling on that possibility.

as you sat at the edge of eren’s bed, naked as the day you were born and fighting back the sobs threatening to rack your body, you couldn’t help but wonder how you’d got caught up in all this shit.

***

you first caught eren’s eye when he attempted to flirt with you outside of a bar one night, to which you tipsily drawled, “do i know you?” and then, as if that weren’t embarrassing enough, you followed it up with, “oh, you’re that douchebag football player!”

even through your inebriation, eren’s face was ultra-recognizable, as it would be to anyone who went to your school and also happened to have eyes.

gemstone colored eyes, skin covered in a delicious tan, long hair curtaining the sculpture that was his head, eren jaeger had an incredibly difficult face to forget about.

being the quarterback of your school’s football team and most sought after man on campus, (or perhaps in the state) it’d be more surprising if he wasn’t a douche.

so, what? not like you’re looking for anything serious, anyway. it could just be a casual thing. at that, the yes bells in your head rang loud, the sound growing more ferocious as you trailed your eyes down the expanse of his body.

for a few moments, you could see why he had so many people drooling like rabid dogs without any effort. he was fucking gorgeous. you took in a breath of fresh air, trying to sober your body and your mind. breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe.

one of your girlfriends had linked your arms together and murmured something like, “i’m sorry about her, she’s wasted.”

“i am perfectly sober.” you groaned, which wasn’t exactly true, but you were closer to sober than wasted.

he chuckled heartily, and you had to stop yourself from getting dizzy in the turquoise oasis of his eyes. or maybe you were a little drunker than you’d thought. whatever.

after a little while, you’d convinced your friends you were okay enough to give him your number, and when you did, a satisfied smile stretched across his face. “i’ll call you.”

“yeah, okay.” you said dryly, despite the fabric of your underwear feeling completely opposite.

***

a day later, and much to your sober surprise, eren had called you, introducing himself as, “that douchebag football player.” you let your face fall into your palm at the blurry memory, trying not to keel over in humiliation before he could even ask you out.

luckily, you remained steady long enough for him to invite you over to smoke later. looking back now, you wanted to slap yourself silly for even considering, and then slap her even harder for saying yes.

***

your bi-weekly smoke sessions turned weekly, and then almost daily. but by then, he wasn’t even coming over to smoke anymore. “i don’t wanna get high with you all the time. what if i just wanna enjoy you while we’re sober?” eren had claimed as the two of you lay intertwined on his couch. you could remember the distinct feeling of your heart melting out of your chest and pooling around your feet.

then, he was coming over to your dorm with takeout bags shelved along his arms. and then texting you at random, telling you to be ready at a certain time, because he was taking you out to dinner.

and you certainly couldn’t forget the night all the pent up sexual tension and feral attraction shared between the two of you came to a screeching head. you both were high off your asses, and one thing had led to a-motherfucking-nother. next thing you knew, your back was pushed into a pretty arch as he drilled into that special spot inside of you. drool pooling at the corners of your lips, cheeks glossed over with tears, throat red and raw from the guttural moans pouring out of it.

four rounds later, when your limbs were jelly and you’d been rendered too tired to do much more, eren pulled you into his lap and played with your hair until you fell asleep. it was in that moment that you knew you were falling head over heels for him. although, he hadn’t given you much of a choice, had he?

***

then, it happened. you should’ve known something was up when he said he was headed to a party later that night, but didn’t invite you, which was something he’d always done. “you don’t really know anybody that’s gon’ be there. and i’m only goin’ for a little bit. no point in even bringing you with me.”

you simply nodded in agreement, him having thoroughly convinced you. and it wasn’t like you had any reason to think he was lying. eren never lied to you.

or at least that’s what you’d thought.

not twenty minutes after eren left, your phone had pinged with a message from one of your girlfriends.

party tonight & yes tf u are going. i’ll be outside in 10!!

you’d arrived at the party, shocked to see that there wasn’t an unfamiliar face in the throngs of people you shuffled through. bile had risen in your throat, but you chased it down with whatever was in the solo cup your friend handed you.

for a moment, you were having fun. your limbs falling into a relaxed, dancing rhythm, loud music coursing through your veins as though it were the alcohol you drank.

“oh, shit.” you heard your friend say from beside you, and the terror in her voice was enough to get you to pay attention.

anxiously, you followed the line of her gaze to a semi-vacant spot across the room. a spot where eren had another girl perched upon his lap, blowing smoke into her mouth before he attacked her already kiss-bitten lips with his.

you wanted so desperately to press your eyes shut, but the sight before you would surely live behind your eyelids for the rest of your life. so really, what was the point?

they broke away from the kiss, and you could’ve swore you tasted vomit at the sight of a thin string of saliva connecting their lips. after what felt like hours, eren’s eyes met with yours from across the room. before he could get the chance to even register you as some sort of hallucination, you bolted.

***

as soon as you’d locked the door behind you, you collapsed on your dorm floor. clothes and hair wet and chilled from the rain pouring outside, you’d nearly bit off your own tongue with all the shivers that racked you.

the sobs taking over your body were breathtaking, literally. you’d caught yourself trying to catch your breath through the tears more than a few times. at a certain point, they’d gotten so loud that you had to shove your face into a pillow to muffle the sounds.

an hour or so later, you’d decided to check your phone, only to instantly regret it once you saw the flurry of messages and calls from eren.

with each message you read, his vice grip on your heart only grew firmer. baby wya? we need to talk. if it weren’t for the ragged breaths running through your agape lips, you’d be sure you had already died of some type of shock.

i don’t want u goin to sleep mad at me baby. you wished you could squeeze the phone into pulp like an empty soda can. but your hands were weak, heavy, numb, as though they had been filled with wet packing peanuts. idk what you saw but it’s not what it looks like.

tears blurred your vision as you continued reading. pleas of, will you at least call me? and (likely empty) promises of, it’s not what it looks like and i just need to explain myself. this, coupled with twenty missed calls from him, had barbed wire wrapping around your heart, squeezing and squeezing until you were sure you could feel it explode inside your chest.

bile rose in your throat again, but you didn’t have it in you to hold it back this time. instead, you ran for your bathroom and emptied the contents of your stomach into the toilet as another wave of sobs came over your body

when you were done, you hardly recognized the person staring back at you in the mirror. the brown skin around your eyes was puffy and damp, your face mask-tight with tears, your lips wobbling pathetically. you felt the urge to throw up again.

***

“i don’t even know why you’re upset.” eren had attempted to console you. “mikasa, she’s…” your skeleton nearly folded in on itself as he said her name with the same cadence he usually did yours. “she’s nothing. she’s not y—”

“you had your tongue in her mouth.” you interjected, and you didn’t need to say anything else. hell, you could hardly bring yourself to say that.

“hey,” he said, reaching over the middle console to grab you gently by the chin. the look in his eyes held nothing but sorrow, sorrow that toed the line of pity, and pity that toed the line of condescension. “stop thinking about it, okay? we can’t work past this if you keep dwelling on the shit.”

his touch put your entire body on edge, a stark contrast to the usual. you plucked his hand off you as you held back a sniffle. “well, what the fuck else am i supposed to do?” a rogue tear fell from your eye. “i’m…” your fingernails dug into the skin of your thighs. “i’m fucking hurt, eren.”

at his next sentence, you were overcome with the urge to scream until the lump dissolved from your throat. “it’s not like i cheated or anything.” you didn’t know what made it worse: the nonchalant attitude with which he said it, or the way he kissed his teeth before what he said next. “oh, c’mon. i thought you knew we were only fucking around.”

your masochism reared its ugly head as you asked, “what?” despite already hearing him loud and clear the first time.

“listen, y/n, i like you, b—”

“but not enough to…” make me your girlfriend. the words were there, but you physically couldn’t say them. “right.”

he didn’t answer, and really, he didn’t get a chance to. you were shoving his car door open and storming out of it.

for the next four days, he’d mailed surprise gifts to your dorm, all sent with enough various apologies and i miss you’s to make your tooth ache.

you’d forgiven him a week later.

***

and then another time, more recently, he’d given you an earful for making out with connie at some party. but how could he blame you? you were drunk and still hurting from all that happened before. and besides, it wasn’t like the two of you were dating or anything. at least, that’s what you had told him.

this led to a screaming match between the two of you as eren sped down the slick road. the veins in his neck threatening to break free from beneath his skin, knuckles growing paler and paler as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “what, you thought that shit was cute? connie’s one of my best friends, and you thought you could just kiss him in front of me?”

“i didn’t think i could, eren. i did. and if connie was really your best friend, he wouldn’t have let me.” you saw his eyes go fuzzy with white-hot fury, and could’ve laughed maniacally in satisfaction at the sight.

for a few brief, sick moments, you’d thought to yourself, good, you deserve this. but you squashed that feeling before it could turn into something worse. “you did the same thing to me, so just get over it.”

he came to a red light and took a moment to card his shaky hands through his hair. “it’s not the s—”

“not the same?” you scoffed in his direction, unbuckling your seatbelt and shoving his car door open. your dorm wasn’t too far away to walk. “yeah, whatever. just drop me off here.”

***

thus began the vicious cycle that you and him were all too familiar with. perfect, bad, worse, i’m sorry, perfect.

as of right now, you were in the middle of bad, which was awful considering you weren’t sure how things could get worse from here.

still naked from a round or two (or three) of earth-shattering sex, you’d heard eren’s phone ping with a message. figuring your orgasm-fried mush for a brain was playing tricks on you, you ignored it. until it pinged again. and again. and again.

eren usually slept like the dead, and you knew his password. what would be the harm in looking? you’d fought with yourself on it for a good five minutes before deciding.

you stretched your arm out over his slumbering body and plucked the thing off his nightstand. he twitched slightly, and terror struck your heart for a brief moment, but he’d only turned over on his stomach and wrapped his arms around your pliant waist.

warmth chased the terror away, and you considered not even checking the damn thing. until it pinged again.

you extended your arm out above your head, the safest way to hold it that wouldn’t risk disturbing him, even if you risked dropping it onto your face.

after unlocking it, your eyes had to trail over the notifications three or four times to be sure you hadn’t hallucinated. five messages from mikasa. that alone had your heart running in circles, but the actual messages proved to be undeniably worse.

r u done w her yet? i miss you. can you come over? or i can come over there? just call me when u can.

suddenly, eren’s arms began to grow tighter and tighter. squeezing you until your ribs cracked under the pressure, until your lungs collapsed from lack of airflow. or maybe that’s just how you had felt.

much to your ever growing horror, they had been texting for weeks. late night talks, plans of meeting up, exchanges of photos you’d much prefer to forget you saw. you name it, it was there.

silently, you put the phone back on the nightstand and tried to get yourself to fall asleep.

***

you hadn’t slept a wink, and now here you were: slugging your clothes over your body as the sun began peeking over the horizon. eren was still asleep, and you had managed to peel yourself out from under him just enough to make your leave.

your leave.

the words, the concept even, left a bittersweet taste simmering on your tongue. you were gonna leave him alone, and for good this time. because you were amazing and special and deserved ten times better than him, or that’s what you spent the majority of your sleepless night trying to convince yourself of.

your eyes, swollen and red, were begging to flutter shut, but you just… couldn’t. because you knew what vision would be sitting behind your eyelids the moment you did, and that prospect terrified you enough.

when you left his room, you didn’t dare look back at his sleeping form. not because you didn’t want to, but because you just couldn’t. couldn’t because of how weak he had made you; so weak that he didn’t even have to be awake to convince you to come back to him.

you stepped through his front door as though it were a portal to another world. another freer, happier, healthier world. the nippy morning air provided a temporary solace to your shaken figure. you took a deep gust in, hoping to give yourself a brief illusion of stability. breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe.

© NININIKKI. do not translate, copy, or modify my works in any way shape or form.

#nikki writes ✶ #eren jaeger #eren yaeger x reader #eren x black reader #eren x reader #eren smut #angst #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin #snk #college!au

[reminiscingtonight]

Introductions II

Leah Williamson x Bronze!Reader

Word Count: 869

A/N: Here’s part two of the Setbacks prequels! Hope y’all enjoy.

Part One // Part Three // Part Four // Part Five // Setbacks

[WOSO Masterlist]

You’re chilling by the entrance to the field, eyes glued to your phone when you hear the excited shout. You barely have a second to prepare yourself before Georgia’s pouncing on you, pulling you into a big hug. 

“Get off me, you big oaf,” you grumble, the smile on your face negating your words. 

“Admit it, you missed me.”

You roll your eyes, not willing to crack despite both of you knowing the truth. Despite seeing each other at the last camp, you haven’t been able to see your best friend as much as you used to when you were still playing at home. Georgia often complains, trying to sway you to come back to play in the WSL, but you both know you’re happy where you are, playing college ball in the states. And it’s not like you don’t make the effort to go see her when you can either. Case in point tonight, you just finished watching City play Arsenal. Although Lucy’s no longer playing for the team, you still had plenty of people in blue to cheer for.

Before Georgia has a chance to bully you into admitting anything, another familiar voice calls out your name. 

“Hey Keir.” You mumble, accepting the older girl’s much softer hug with ease. 

When you pull away, you’re about to ask how she’s been when you notice the girl standing next to her. Your eyes grow wide, an automatic blush rising to your cheeks.

“Leah, you remember (Y/N), right?”

The blonde eyes you, letting out a soft chuckle. “Right, you megged me during our first scrimmage against each other.”

You blink, mouth growing dry. Although it was years ago, you remember that day like it was yesterday. Meeting Leah for the first time when you were called up to an older youth camp, the way you were instantly starstruck, the way she wasn’t too interested in anything but football. You’re surprised she remembered that first meeting if you’re being honest. You took after your sister, shying away from all attention, more than content letting your best friend be the life of the party. While Georgia fit in with the older girls instantly, you hung around like a shadow, happy to just be playing football at the national level. You didn’t even think Leah knew who you were.

“Well that’s our Bronzy, the fast feet to big Bronze’s tough head. No pun intended.”

You roll your eyes at Georgia’s quip, but you’re thankful for the laughs she gathers from the other girls. 

“What team are you playing for now?”

“She’s playing for the Tar Heels overseas. Too much of a smartypants.” Keira says with a proud smile. You blush, ducking your head when Leah turns her eyes back to you.

“I’ve never been to North Carolina but I’d be down to visit sometime once the season ends,” she muses.

“You don’t have to, there’s really nothing much to do there,” you stutter out, face flaming at the thought of Leah coming to see you. 

Georgia narrows her eyes at the older girl, exchanging a look with Keira before she’s looping an arm through yours. “There’s loads to do there. (Y/N)’s just playing it coy. Anyways, we’re still meeting at the bar, right? We’ll meet you guys there.”

You don’t have a chance to protest before she’s dragging you away towards her car. 

“You alright there, mate?” Georgia grins, smirk only growing when you whack her teasing hand. It was no secret to your best friend how attractive you found the English midfielder-turned-defender. The number of times you lamented about how pretty you found the older girl only gave Georgia more ammunition to tease you with. Every wayward sigh was met with a toothy ‘you want me to introduce you guys?’ from Georgia, and every one of those were met with a red-faced excuse as to why she shouldn’t do so. 

“Fuck off,” you mutter, hiding your burning face behind your hand. 

Unbeknownst to you, as Georgia’s teasing you, Keira is gearing up to do the same to her best friend as well.

“What’cha staring at?” she grins, well aware of the way Leah hasn’t been able to take her eyes off you this entire time. Even as you fade into the distance, bickering with Georgia the entire way, Leah still stares after you. 

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Leah hums, watching the way you swat at Georgia’s head at something she says.

Keira’s grin grows, turning into a devilish smirk. Your sister’s going to have a field day when she tells her about this later. “Oh, you like her, don’t you.”

That catches Leah’s attention. The defender’s instantly shoving at Keira’s shoulders, gritting out a “Oh hush up! She’ll hear you!”

Keira cackles, knowing damn well that you’re too far away to hear anything by now. “You want me to give you a good word? I have an in, you know.”

Leah looks like she’s seriously considering it for a second before she catches the shit-eating grin on Keira’s face. “Shut up,” she mutters. 

When the night ends with Leah smoothly getting your number and your socials, you’re not the only one eager for the end of your time spent overseas.

#leah williamson x reader #engwnt x reader #engwnt imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #Ace writes

[ssuperficialspacecadett]

Friday Fight Night

Chapter Four of the Through the Scope series | Chapter Five

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3.4K

Chapter Overview: You help Benny and the guys get ready for FFN.

Notes: this chapter is just a bit shorter than what i usually like to post, but i didn't have a lot of time to write this week & i'm actually content with where i ended it ! sometimes u just have to stop a little short so u don't just start typing random shit to meet a bullshit word count u give urself u know? i updated the tag list so if i missed u PLZ LET ME KNOW & i will add u asap !! well as usual...my asks are always open & happy reading <3

*no use of y/n & female presenting reader*

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Why is this so difficult? It's just like every other day at work, except for the fact that it's not. You have been standing in front of your closet for a good 10 minutes now just looking at your clothes. Suddenly nothing seems good enough to wear. Maybe something would be good enough if you knew how to dress for a fight. Should you wear workout gear? No, you weren’t the one fighting. Should you wear a tank top and a tennis skirt? Probably not if it gets as rowdy as Benny says it will. 

“Just pick a fucking outfit, you idiot.” You chastise. 

After yet another once over of your closet you pick out a worn, white t-shirt with an image of Speed Racer on it. It had definitely seen its glory days years ago when you were still in college. If it worked then, it should work now. You take it off its hanger, along with some jeans, and put it all on. You’re tying your shoes when your phone chimes next to you. 

???: Hey, we will be getting to the gym around closing time. Are you staying to help Benny set up? 

???: Oh, this is Frankie BTW

Seeing his name on your screen makes your chest tighten with excitement. You obviously gave him your number so he could text you, but now it feels so real. Something about Frankie texting ‘BTW’ makes you giggle to yourself as you sit on the floor.

You: Yes, I figured I would make myself useful. No point in going home since the fights start at 10:00 P.M. and I might lose my parking spot.

You have to set your phone down before you overthink the most basic text you have ever sent in your life. Just for good measure, you leave it on your bed while you go into the bathroom. Despite your best efforts to remain nonchalant about the whole situation, you find yourself putting on a little more makeup than usual. By the time you have wrapped up and returned to your room an unread text is waiting for you. 

Frankie: Good thinking. See you tonight then.

The rest of your morning has a bit more pep in it than before.

***

Your day at the gym passes by as usual. The only two exceptions were a truck load of last minute Friday Fight Night tickets sales and then compliments on how the gym was smelling. You made a mental note to smack Benny upside the head for throwing such a temper tantrum about it. In between customers you found yourself checking your phone more than you regularly do. You told yourself that it was just because you were excited about the fights and were counting down the minutes and not because you were hoping to receive another text from Frankie. Unfortunately, lying to yourself never really works out. 

In an effort to keep yourself occupied, you answer emails from people that are applying for a gym membership, make laps around the gym to see if you need to replace any of the wipes used to clean the machines, and collect all of the dirty towels for a load of laundry. Much to your dismay, these tasks don’t take very long to complete. By 3:30 P.M. you reluctantly slink back to the front desk where the single most unwanted guest is waiting. 

“There she is! My favorite receptionist! I’m still interested in knowing your name, darlin’.” 

“Good afternoon, Brunson.” You plop yourself down in your chair and pull up the schedule on the computer. “Just working out today? I don’t see that you’re with Benny.”

“You caught me. I want to make sure that I’m in good shape when I fight in a few weeks time.” 

For a few blissful seconds you allow yourself to indulge in the idea of Brunson getting clocked, hard, right in the jaw. 

“Well, enjoy yourself.” You scan his card quickly in an attempt to move him on his way.

“I always do so when you’re here.” He clicks his tongue at you while he walks past your desk. 

“God, he’s insufferable.” You mumble to yourself.

It’s 4:00 P.M. when Benny finally ventures up to the front lobby with you.

“Where have you been? I feel like I haven’t seen you all day, man.”

“Because you haven’t,” He covers his face with his hands and whines into them before coming back up for air. “At first I couldn’t find where the white board I used to write out the fightin’ pairs was. Then there was somethin’ wrong with the beer delivery and they kept me out back for fuckin’ ever. That isn’t even coverin’ all the one on one sessions I've had today or the ones I’m still goin’ to have.”

It’s breaking your heart to see how stressed out he’s getting with all of the things he has to juggle today. You get out of your chair, walk over to him, and rub on his shoulder comfortingly. 

“It’s going to be alright, Benny. I’m staying after work to help you set up and Frankie told me that the guys are coming to help around closing too. You won't be in this alone for much longer.”

He places both of his hands on his hips and exhales deeply.

“Thank you,” You can see the earnestness in his eyes. “I really appreciate it.”

“Of course. That’s what friends are for, right?”

He smiles down at you from his 6’2 frame and before you can move he pulls you in for a deadly tight hug.

“Benny!” You can’t stop laughing. “Let me go this fucking instant!”

“Friends like hugs from other friends, right?” He yells over your incessant protesting. 

“I’m going to kill you, you know that?!” Your tone of voice doesn’t even sound remotely serious. 

Eventually you get him to unlatch himself from you so the two of you can finish up the work day in order to prepare for this evening.

***

You stand back proudly and admire all of your handiwork. Benny put you in charge of setting up the beer table, so set up the beer table you did. You designed a poster to hang on the wall above the table so people would be able to clearly see their options and their respective prices. You set a long, metal tub in the center of the table and filled it halfway with ice. Then you made a little arrangement out of the beer and poured the last half of the ice on it to keep it cold. The cash box was fully stocked and set to the side. All in all, you did a pretty good job. Thankfully, one of Benny’s regulars volunteered to work it this evening.

“All done over here!” You call over to Benny. “How’s the sign coming?”

You watch in horror as he stands up to reveal a barely legible fighting roster. He must have seen your face flounder when you looked at it because he just tosses the dry erase marker over to you and crosses his arms. 

“Oh, Benny I-”

“I know it looks bad. I’ve never had a knack for all this creative shit.”

You squeeze his hand as you pass him while heading to the white board. He slides over the roster that has been printed on paper for you to use as your guide. You’re so engrossed with your new task that you don’t notice when the guys come in around 8:30 P.M..

“You sure are givin’ Benny a run for his money this evenin’. The place hasn’t looked this put together in…well ever.” That sugary, sweet southern drawl could only belong to one man. 

“Thank you, Will!” You toss over your shoulder.

“Aw screw you, dude. Maybe it would have been if y’all had gotten here when y’all said you would.” Benny notes.

“Blame Fish.” Pope snickers. “He couldn’t find the perfect outfit.” 

That got your interest peaked. You turn around to look at what Frankie is wearing. Regular work boots, soft looking denim jeans, a black undershirt, a worn blue button up with the top few buttons left undone, and finally his cap- oh god he’s looking at you. If you had been a smarter woman, you would have noticed that two thirds of the group standing behind you were looking at your sign. That damned one third of the group was watching you trail your way up his whole body. He’s like an oak; completely unwavering as you take him in. 

“Well, I like it. ” You squeak out as you turn your attention back to the roster. “Now why don’t you guys go make yourselves useful and help Benny?”

You hear a unified ‘yes ma’am’ come from behind you followed by the scattering of three pairs of feet. There truly isn't anything more sexy than men who can follow orders.

All five of y’all work tirelessly for the next hour to get everything finished before the doors open to the public. When you cross off the last item on your to-do list, you decide that you have earned a drink. You sneak over to the beer table and open one of the coolers that you set up behind it that contains the excess bottles. Much to your dismay, the bottle caps don't twist off like you originally thought. You’re on your knees looking around in the extra bags and praying that Benny had the foresight to get a bottle opener when Frankie walks up next to you. 

“Lose something?”

“Just my dignity trying to locate the stupid fucking bottle opener.”

He laughs jovially as he extends his hand to help you up. You take it and sheepishly hand him your bottle when he motions for it. The two of you walk around to the front of the table and you watch as he easily takes out his keys and pops the cap open with a bottle opener he had attached to them. You notice that instead of tossing the cap in the trash he places it back in his pocket along with his keys. Right when he starts to hand the drink back to you he pulls it back towards him. 

“Hey! What gives?”

“I have to test it to make sure it isn’t poisonous or something.”

“Oh my god, you dick.” You lean back on the table behind you.

“You won’t be saying that when I save your life.” He takes a small sip and passes it over to you. “Nope. It’s not poison. You’re in the clear.”

Now it’s your turn. You turn to look out at the gym while you take a drink of your well deserved reward. 

“Wait,” You look over at Frankie. “What if it's a slow acting poison and now we are both infected? I guess you have to stay here and finish this with me so we can go out together.”

He leisurely reclines next to you on the table and takes the bottle in his hand when you offer it to him. “That's some pretty sound logic. I can’t argue with that.”

You try to stop yourself, but you watch as he brings the frosty glass to his pouty lips. They look more pink than usual against the dark color of the bottle. His hands make the beer bottle look so much smaller than it really is. Your eyes wander to that nose you’re so fond of. God, what would it feel like on your clit as he ate his fill of you? Now that you’re closer to him you’re able to see the gray that's intricately woven into his beard and hair. Would it tickle the inside of your thighs when he buried his face in your pussy? Feelings you haven’t had for a man in a long time rock through your body the further you sink into your fantasy. Drifting even further, his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows the chilled liquid. You want to decorate the sensitive skin with blossoming purple marks. 

“What?” He’s looking at you now. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No,” You say almost breathlessly. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t hog it all.”

“I would never.” The low baritone of his voice reverberates through you. 

Benny, thankfully, yells from across the gym at the both of y’all before you do something questionable. 

“Hey, lazy asses! It’s showtime!”

You and Frankie both let out a breath neither of y’all realized you were holding. He looks down at his watch and then faces his friend with a mild look of annoyance.

“It’s 9:30, man. It’s just the boxers and the ring girls coming in right now.”

You notice that Frankie’s body immediately tenses up after he says this. Confused, you look over at Benny who has eyes as bright as the sun and is making a beeline towards you. 

“I’m sorry.” Frankie whispers down to you. “I’m so sorry.”

“Benny? What are you-?”

“I have a proposition for you.” He says while gripping both sides of your arms. “Do you wanna hear it?”

“I don’t think I have a choice by the look of things.”

“Please be my ring girl.” He gasps.

“Oh my god.” You let your head roll back. “Benny, are you serious right now?”

“Don’t say no yet. Just think about it before you decide.” 

You roll your head over to face Frankie and raise your eyebrows. You’re met with a shrug that is just as innocent as his grin.

“Does this offer have an expiration date?” You inquire shifting your focus back to the man that currently has you in a vice grip. 

“Just think about it.” He pleads.

“Fine, but I’m pretty sure I’m gonna say n-”

“La-la-la! I can’t hear you! La-la-la!”

“Don’t you have fighters to go hype up in the locker room?” Frankie cuts in.

“Nothin’ I hate more than when you’re right, Fish. Catch y’all in between the matches!”

With one final ‘think about it’, he bounds off into the locker rooms. All you can do is laugh hysterically at what just transpired. Frankie probably thinks you have lost your mind with the way you are doubled over right now. 

“Hey let us in on the joke, why don’t you?” Pope sits next to you on the table. 

“I could use a good laugh as well.” Will adds blithely.

“What you two could use is a reality check.” you walk around the table and grab a beer for each of them. “God, I can’t believe him.”

You hand Will and Pope their drinks completely forgetting about taking the tops off. Fortunately, that didn’t stop them. Will snatches Pope’s beer out of his hand and positions the bottles where one has its cap resting just barely on the edge of the other's cap. Then he slams them down on his knee and Pope’s opens with ease. After he hands the open one off, he pops his own with a thick ring he’s wearing. 

“I’m thoroughly impressed, Will. What the hell was that?”

“You just gotta learn to make due sometimes.” 

Frankie and Pope both mutter ‘show-off’ under their breaths as Will explains to you the physics behind his little trick. 

“Okay, now back to what Benny was talking about.” You adjust your stance so you can better face the group. “Are y’all in on this? This ‘ring girl’ shit?”

“Can’t say it wouldn’t be fun though.” Pope prods his finger at you. 

“Oh, yes I can.” You say swatting at him.

“You know, Benny. Once he sets his mind to somethin’ he’s pretty determined to see it through.”

“That doesn’t even begin to answer my question, Will.” You groan as you take the beer from Frankie’s hand. 

The movements between y’all are so natural, so fluid that it feels like something you have been doing for years. You see Pope, almost in shock, watch you as you take a drink.

“Can I get some of that?”

“No way, man.” You shelter the bottle against your body. “Three is a crowd and you literally have an open one in your hand.”

“Will’s right,” Frankie reasons with you. “Benny is as one track minded as they come.”

“Tell him to get on another track then.”

“How about this?” Pope counters. “You go into the locker room with Benny and see what it takes to be a ring girl. Then and only then will he accept your answer of ‘no’ if that’s still what you want.”

“If that will get him off my case then that's fine with me.” 

You start to turn towards the locker room doors when a blue sleeved arm reaches over your shoulder and plucks the beer from you. 

“Hey, give that back!”

“I just want to make sure you don’t hog it all.” Frankie’s tone is thick with sarcasm.

“I would never.” You grin.

Pope waits until you have cleared the locker room doors before he whacks Frankie in the shoulder. Unfortunately, Frankie doesn’t see it coming because he is too busy hoping to catch one more glimpse of you.

“If that's how you act around women you think are ‘just cool’ then I’m terrified to see how you act around women you actually like.”

“The fuck was that for? And the fuck are you talking about, man?” He massages the spot where Pope smacked him. 

“Will, please tell me you aren’t as blind as he is?”

“Sorry, Fish. I see it too.”

“See what?”

“That you look like a goddamn catfish whenever you look at her! Eyes all big and mouth agape.”

“I do not.” Frankie mutters. 

“Come on.” Pope folds his arms across his chest. “You think she’s cute.”

“What are we in middle school? You’re being ridiculous. Will?” 

“I’ll be honest, I wanna know too.” He flashes that signature boyish Miller smile.

All Frankie can do is laugh nervously while he removes his cap and runs his fingers through his hair. He knows that he’s in the middle of a losing battle and that he’ll have to concede. They are going to be ecstatic that a woman other than Rochelle has caught his eye. Especially when it's a woman that meshes so naturally with their group. No, what’s stopping him is that a part of himself wants to keep it a secret. To have something that is just his. No prying eyes, no unwanted advice, no consequences, and no one else has to get hurt but him. As soon as the acknowledgement of his affection for you falls from his lips, it's real. As selfish as it sounds, he wants to keep you at arms length. He feels like everything he touches breaks and he doesn’t want you to become the next casualty. You wouldn’t want him if you knew the truth about the things he has done. But then you smile or laugh and he can feel himself falling deeper and deeper into his delusions of grandeur. 

“Well, if you don’t like her then maybe I’ll ask her out.”

“No, you won't because,” Frankie puts his cap back on. “I think she’s cute. Are y’all happy? I like her.”

“Atta boy, Fish!” Will cheers. 

“I knew it!” Pope says as he pulls Frankie in for a hug. “She’s a good one, man.”

“I know she is. I just don’t know if I’m going to do anything about it right now.”

Will’s hand comes to rest on his shoulder. “Why’s that?” 

“I don’t want to fuck it up. To drag her into the shit show that is my life. I don’t even know if she feels the same way either!”

The two other men nod in understanding. Frankie takes a sip of the drink he stole from you and sighs as he looks up at the ceiling. 

“All I know is…is that I like her.”

“Shh!” 

“Pope, you were the one that wanted to talk about this!”

“Shut the fuck up! She's coming!”

“Y’all ready? I’m going to open the doors for everyone!”

The three of them use the time it takes you to unlock the doors and arrive back in order to regroup from their previous conversation.

“Did you,” Will clears his throat. “Did you like the view back there? See a future in being Benny’s ring girl?”

“I like the view from right here, thank you very much.” 

“So,” Pope rubs his hands together. “Who ready to see some dudes get the shit beat out of them?”

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{tag list: @cutesyscreenname @rsquared31 @smol-beb @bitchwitch1981 @avastrasposts @hoeslingz @saltybutteredtoast @javicstories @c-justhere @pimosworld @modernperplexity @beboldbebravethings @modernperplexity @mxtokko @moonliqhtszn @tanzthompson }

#francisco morales #frankie morales #catfish #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #benny miller #will miller #ironhead #santiago garcia #pope #through the scope #read on a03

[fandomxpreferences]

Drink Up Chapter Three: Jealous

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x female!reader

TW: pining, none really

Summary: After weeks of playing cat and mouse, Jake finally makes some progress.

Word Count: 1.3k

It's another two weeks before Jake can elicit another reaction from you. Playing nice wasn't working, so he figured he’d try playing dirty. You try not to shoot daggers at the back of his head as he talks to the woman, but you’re fairly certain he can feel your eyes burning into him.

You are not jealous of the woman with perfectly smooth hair and model good looks and legs that go on for days. You just feel the urge to smash her pristine face into the bartop more and more with every passing second. Nope, not jealous at all.

Despite your best efforts to resist the man, he’s worn down your defenses over the past couple of months. You’ve found yourself looking for him when you see his group walk in and your ears perk when you hear his laugh through all the commotion. 

It's not that you dislike Jake or that you don’t find him attractive, because holy hell he is. You’ve just been scorned by men in uniform one too many times and you don’t want to put yourself through that again. 

But every night, Jake does his best to get your attention. And even though every night you shoot him down, he always returns more persistent than the day before.

You’re starting to believe that he might actually be serious. Regardless, you’re having fun with this little game of cat and mouse and if he wants your number, he’s going to have to work for it.

You watch as she slips a piece of paper into his hand with a smirk before slinking back off into the crowd. You look away quickly when he starts to turn around and try to make yourself look busy. Unfortunately for you, you’re not paying attention to what you're doing and the cup overruns onto the counter. 

“Fuck!” You exclaim to yourself while jerking your hand away from the cold liquid and grabbing a rag. 

Jake laughs at you and your eyes shoot up to send him a glare. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re flustered.” He pokes and you scoff. 

“Well, good thing you know better then.” You bite back and his eyes twinkle. 

“You jealous I got her number, Red?” He asks in a teasing tone and you roll your eyes. Despite you telling him your name he still insists on using your "call sign", as he refers to it.

“Why would I be jealous? I’ve had plenty of opportunity to do the same, but in case you haven’t noticed, I don’t want to.” You quip.

You momentarily wish you could take it back when hurt flashes across his face, but as quick as it came it's gone and Jake is back to his usual composed self. 

“Well, some women love an American hero.” He smiles and your eyebrow shoots up. 

“If you’re the hero, that must make me the villain.” You taunt and he nods his head. 

“Mhmm, and a very pretty one at that.” He says while looking you over. “By the way, pull your skirt down. You’re practically flashing the whole bar.” 

You lean on the bartop and make sure to press your boobs together in your low-cut v-neck t-shirt. “The skirt is short on purpose.” You whisper and his eyes darken slightly. 

“You trying to push my buttons, Red?” He asks and you chuckle. 

“Every last one, G.I Joe. Is it working?” You use his nickname that you finally settled on and see his jaw tick.

“Better than I care to admit. Pull it down.” He says firmly and you stand back up straight, suddenly aware of the heat rushing between your legs at the command. 

You try to cover up the fact he got you flustered but he’s tuned into your body language and catches it quicker than you can react. “I get better tips like this.” You brush off his demand and he shakes his head. 

“I don’t care.” He says while pulling out his wallet. He lies down a hundred and stares into your eyes. “That’s more than you’d make in tips. Now pull it down.”

You stare back defiantly for a second and debate standing your ground. But part of you wants to see what happens when you listen for once and you slowly reach down and pull the hem of the skirt to your mid-thigh. 

Within a second, the normal light-hearted Jake is back and he flashes you a bright smile with a tip of his imaginary hat. “Thank you.” 

Your eyes narrow slightly, and you decide to push a little further. “Why do you care anyway? You got that bitch’s number, so why are you bothering me?”

The smirk that comes over his features makes you want to slap him and you immediately regret asking the question. 

“So you are jealous.” He jokes and before you can respond he drops the paper into a nearby glass of water. “There, nothing to worry about. I was just being polite.” He shrugs and your mouth drops open slightly. 

“You know you’re not getting me into bed, right?” You remind him and he gives you a shit-eating grin. 

“Who said it has to be a bed?”

You groan loudly and throw your head back. “Please be quiet. I can’t hear myself losing the will to live.” 

He laughs loudly and you drop your head to look at him again when he speaks. “You know you love it.” 

You cross your arms over your chest and stick your hip out for emphasis. “I will kick your ass.” You try to keep a serious tone but your lips curl up ever so slightly at the banter.

“I don't doubt it. You know you could put us both out of our misery if you would just give me your number.” He suggests and you cackle. 

“If I did that I would just be subjecting myself to this all the time.” You retort and he shakes his head. 

“If you would just go on a date with me, you’d find I'm really much more likable than you think.” He sighs dramatically. 

“Jake,” You utter and he frowns at the use of his actual name. “Jokes aside, at the end of the day you don’t actually want me. You just like the chase.”

“I really wish you would stop telling me what I want.” He says seriously and you notice the air around the two of you become heavier. 

“I’ve been completely entranced by you since I laid eyes on you. I love the playfulness but underneath it, I'm serious about this. I want all of you. You just have to give me the chance to show you that.” He tells you and you feel your heart racing in your chest. 

“You work almost every night. Have you seen me leave with a single woman since you met me?” He asks and you think back. It's actually a valid point. He hasn’t gone home with anyone. In fact aside from tonight, he hasn’t even entertained a woman. 

He studies your face as you ponder his statement and right when he’s about to give up you speak. 

“Fine. I’ll go on a date with you. If you manage to show me you're serious, then you can have my number.” You relent. 

Jake's face lights up like a kid on Christmas morning and you’re pretty sure he’s resisting the urge to jump up and cheer. 

“Really?” He asks skeptically and you nod. 

“Don’t make me regret this, G.I Joe.” You say while pointing a finger at him. 

He smiles when you use his nickname again and nods. “Trust me, I won’t.” He says and you purse your lips. 

“We’ll see.” You grumble and he walks back over to his friends with an extra pep in his step. 

You lay your head on your arm and close your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. What have you gotten yourself into?

@drakelover78 @manyfandomsfanvergent @ssprayberrythings @disturbedbeautywrites @desert-fern @one-sweet-gubler @callmemana @luckyladycreator2 @bookchik26 @taytaylala12 @michalkasimp @xoxabs88xox @loveless-simp @withakindheartx @formulapierre @ccristata @shanimallina87 @chair-things @k-k0129 @izz-ayes-world @kajjaka @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @turningtoclown @phantomxoxo @rosiahills @gspenc @benhardysdrumstick

#jake seresin fic #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #Jake seresin x reader #hangman top gun #hangman x reader #hangman imagine #hangman #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun imagine

[grandeoatmilklatte]

Pain and Pledges Pt. 2 (College AU!Ominis x F!MC)

I'm back with the part 2 of my Gaunt Friday College AU Frat Boy Ominis fic! Sorry this took longer than I wanted to post, but hopefully the wait was worth it! There is some yummy smut in here as a thank you for waiting!

Pain and Pledges Pt 2. - College AU Ominis Gaunt x F!MC || Summary: After a chaotic game of truth or dare, you try to figure out where you stand with Ominis. 2.8k words.

Warnings: NSFW/18+ || f!ng3r!ng || PinV s3x || loss of v!r!g!n!ty || all characters are college age thus they're 18+!

Part 1 here:

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The cold air smacked you hard in the face as you darted outside, the air drying your tears that had begun to fall. You needed a minute to breathe. Ominis was clearly angry at Imelda for her behavior during the game, but you had no idea if you were included in that anger as well. Did he not want you to kiss him? He had been giving you signs all night that he was interested, between the flirty comments and the effort he made to get to know you, not to mention the way he kissed you back. Then why did he ignore you? You made the decision to go find him, but were stopped by Garreth who had followed you outside. 

“Are you okay? That was a little crazy back there!” Garreth chuckled. “I uh…also wasn’t expecting you to kiss Gaunt. You want to tell me about that?” 

Guilt started to fill you as you realized you hadn’t mentioned to Garreth how you felt about Ominis. You recounted your interactions so far - the library, and the party prior to the stupid game, and you explained how you felt about him. He was surprised, but supportive, his thumbs coming up to your face to wipe the tears from your eyes, and providing you words of encouragement as you made your way back inside.

The party was still going, the music and talking party guests making the space incredibly loud. You scanned the main living room and kitchen, but there was no sign of Ominis, so you headed upstairs, the other boys not paying much mind to you as you reached their bedrooms. You were greeted with a hallway with several doors. The sound of yelling down the hall alerted you to which room was Ominis’s, making your way there. 

You placed your ear to the door, but you didn’t have to as the fighting was loud enough to hear from several feet away.

“Oh please Ominis, I am not jealous of her! She’s just a dumb little freshman. I don't see what you’re so upset about anyway. I’m sure all you want is to fuck her and I’m sure she’ll be desperate enough to do it.” Imelda growled.

“So embarrassing me and a girl I fancy isn’t something to be upset about?!”. Ominis barked back at her. “You should be grateful I don’t air out more of your secrets. Do you remember why I broke up with you? Or did you lose some brain cells from lack of oxygen while you were busy choking on Sebastian’s cock?” You heard silence on Imelda’s end, left to wonder what type of facial expression she was sporting. 

Ominis continued. “I imagine she won’t want to join Kappa after the torture you put her through tonight, but if she does, you’re going to let her in, and you’re going to be nice to her. Don’t forget that house president elections are coming up. If you fuck with her again, I can promise you your days as president, as well as your days as a Kappa will be numbered. Do I make myself clear?” His voice was calm but very threatening. 

“Do I…make myself…clear?!” he growled, having not received a vocal answer from Imelda. She let out a soft “Yes” that was barely audible with the door in between you. “Good. Now get the fuck out of my room!” Ominis screamed. 

You found it incredibly sexy how Ominis was standing up for you in front of Imelda, albeit a little scary. You certainly didn’t want to be on the receiving end of that tone. You were so caught up in your thoughts that you momentarily forgot Imelda was supposed to be exiting from the same door you were leaning up against, resulting in you jumping when Imelda ripped open the bedroom door.

Imelda looked at you as though she wanted to strangle you, but remembering Ominis’s threats, she chose her words carefully. “Freshy! Hey!” She said through gritted teeth. You saw Ominis’s head shoot up and look towards your direction at the sound of the stupid nickname that was now synonymous with you. Like Imelda, he didn’t expect you to be on the other side of the door hearing the entire exchange. 

“Look, I’m really sorry about tonight. We were just having a little fun! Come, let’s grab a drink!” The fakeness was dripping off of her, and while you would have loved to indulge in the torture of Imelda having to be nice to you, you had more important matters to deal with. 

“Uh, maybe later, I’d actually like to talk to Ominis.” You said faking a smile of your own, accepting that faking a smile would be a normal occurrence with her going forward. She rolled her eyes at you as you entered the bedroom, closing the door behind you, assuming that Imelda would repeat the same action you were just doing. 

Ominis’s room was a sight to behold. The wallpaper was a dark emerald green (were you even allowed to wallpaper a dorm room?!). In one corner of the room was a chest of drawers, a writing desk, and a bookshelf, all being made of a dark walnut wood. There was also a chair with matching walnut wood and emerald green cushioning. In the other corner of the room there was a queen sized bed with luscious satin sheets in the same shade of green as the rest of the room, and this is where you found Ominis, sitting on the bed, looking up at you with guilt in his eyes. 

“You heard all that didn’t you? She had no right to treat you that way. I…I don’t usually abuse my privileges here, but she deserved it. She’s not going to hurt you again…no one at this school will…I’m sorry.” he trailed off, eyes pointing away from your direction in shame. 

You joined him on the bed, taking his hands in yours, his head turning back in your direction. “Hey, it’s okay! I know we barely know each other, but…I really like you, I’ve liked you since the moment I met you in the library, and I can’t stop thinking about you.” He squeezed your hand in response, which made your heart do a backflip as you continued. “I don’t know if you're looking for something more serious or just casual…but I want you. I want to be with you.” Your heart raced as he sat in silence. You were about to get up and leave, assuming you had upset him, but he finally responded in the form of his hands coming up to hold your cheeks as he crashed his lips into yours. 

You two were much quicker when it came to involving your tongues this time, your lips parting immediately for him so that his tongue could slip inside. His hands came to rest on your body as yours found their way into his blond hair, one of his hands resting on your lower back while the other rested on your upper thigh right under your dress. This kiss was rougher than the first as you moaned against each other’s lips. You involuntarily began to lean back onto his bed, pulling him down with you so that he was half on top of you. Your dress hiked up on its own from the change in position, allowing Ominis’s hand to move to the top of your thigh. You continued in this position for another moment until he pulled away. 

“You’ve been on my mind nonstop since the library as well. You were so kind and so gentle, people normally aren’t that way with me. I’m sure you know I have a bit of a reputation here. I don’t mind having one sometimes, it helps me keep people in check. But you, you didn’t care about that. The sound of your voice, the smell of your perfume, the feeling of your skin - I want all of it, all the time. I want to be with you too. Do you… want to be my girlfriend?”

You answered his question with a silent response as well, pulling him back into your lips. As you kissed, you adjusted yourselves so that he was completely on top of you, your legs spread to accommodate him between them. Without breaking the kiss, you sat up slightly, removing your jacket. Ominis noticed, his hands coming up to your bare shoulders, his fingers hooking under the small spaghetti straps of your dress and pulling them down slightly. 

He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours as you caught your breaths. “Darling. I would love nothing more than to take you right now, make you mine, but I know you said you’re a virgin. I don’t want to do anything you don’t feel comfortable with.” His voice was soft and delicate. He truly cared about you and your comfort. Just when you thought you couldn’t fall any harder for him. 

“I want you Ominis. Please.” you pleaded, pulling him back into your lips. His hands came back to the straps of your dress, peeling them down your arms as he slipped you out of your dress, leaving you in your bra, panties and fishnets. One of his hands came around your back to unhook your bra, and once it was off, he brought his head down, taking your nipple in his mouth. You softly moaned as he sucked, his mouth alternating between each one. His hand made its way under the waistband of your panties, his fingers slipping between your folds. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me darling!” he groaned, his fingers becoming coated in your wetness. You tried to hold in your moans, remembering that you were at a party, but the more he worked you, the louder you got, the dorm room being filled with the sounds of your pleasure. 

“Oh baby, I love the pretty sounds you’re making for me. Please don’t hide them. Be as loud as you want. I want to hear you moan for me!” He let out another groan as he slipped the two fingers that had been rubbing at your clit inside of you, moving them in and out of you, knowing your release was close based on your sounds. 

“Ominis!” You cried out as you felt yourself break, your first real orgasm hitting you. You had explored yourself before, but it had never felt this good, nothing could compare to this. He pulled his fingers out of your waistband, sucking them clean. As you caught your breath and came down from your high, he undressed himself before repositioning himself between your legs. 

You wondered if he knew you still had your panties and fishnets on. You almost went to remove them, but his hands came to your inner thighs spreading your legs further before his fingers came to meet at your cunt. In one quick motion, Ominis slipped his fingers in between the holes of your fishnets and ripped them open, giving him an opening and access to you. You let out a giggle, heart racing at the thought of how eager he was for you. Before he went any further, his head moved up in your direction. “Are you still sure you want this, darling?”

“Yes Ominis! Please!” You cried out. You knew it seemed a little quick, but you had never felt like this before about anyone, and all you wanted in that moment was him. “Just be gentle with me.” 

“Of course, love.” He said softly as he pulled your panties to the side with one hand and lined himself up with your entrance with the other. You braced yourself as he slowly pushed in. You whimpered at the entry, but it wasn’t too painful, your still present wetness serving as a lubricant. Once he had filled you entirely, he paused, allowing your body to adjust to him, which it did fairly quickly. Any feelings of pain or discomfort had morphed into a feeling of pleasure. You lightly thrusted your hips up towards him letting him know you were ready for him to move. 

Ominis’s pace was slow as he pulled out of you almost entirely before pushing back into you, the feeling was incredible. The room once again began to fill with breathy moans coming from you both. You wrapped your legs around his back which elicited a giggle out of Ominis. “Does that feel good, darling? You’re taking me so well.”

You let out a giggle of your own. “Yes! So good! You can speed up, I’m okay. I’ll let you know if it’s too much!”

It seemed as though something went off in his head when you said that, as he immediately obeyed, hands coming up to grip your thighs as he became rougher, slamming into you over and over. You felt another orgasm creeping up on you, your moans became louder and more frantic as he fucked you hard. You stopped caring about any of the party goers hearing you as you cried out for Ominis to keep going. “You’re being such a good girl, my love! I can tell you’re close. I can feel you tightening up around me. Come on baby! You feel so good.” He groaned through gritted teeth.

The encouragement was all you needed. With another scream of his name, your second release hit you. He slowed down slightly to allow you to compose yourself, but was still going, his own release moments away. You sat up slightly, bringing your lips to his, the kiss messy with all the movement. In between kisses he whispered how perfect you were, and that you were all his now, he words bringing more moans out of you.

He abruptly pulled away from your lips and pulled out of you, warm ropes of his release painting your stomach as he whimpered your name. Once you were thoroughly covered in him, he chuckled. “I’m sorry, darling! I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to…I can clean you up.” 

You giggled. “It’s okay baby, but next time why not make that mess in my mouth instead.” You knew he couldn’t see the flirty smile on your face, but you hoped you conveyed the message in your voice.

“Next time?” A huge smile crossed his face at your confirmation that you enjoyed yourself and wanted more of him. He leaned down to meet your lips once again. 

Once he had cleaned you up and you took a moment to bask in each other, lying wrapped in each other arms, you decided it was time to return to the party. You ditched your destroyed fishnets, Ominis chuckling and offering to buy you a new pair. He held your hand as you descended the stairs, the eyes of the party goers locked on you as they whispered to each other. Earlier, the whispers made you feel uneasy, but now, you couldn’t care less. You spent the rest of the party attached to each other, always in his lap or wrapped in his arms as you mingled. Ominis introduced you to his friends, showed you around the Frat house, and kissed you multiple times throughout the night. You made sure many of his kisses were in view of Imelda, who just rolled her eyes every time. 

When the party had come to a close, you found Garreth again, having temporarily separated from Ominis as he was needed to help get people out. 

“Seems like you had a lovely night!” Garreth shot you a knowing look. You felt heat rise in your cheeks as you gave him a shocked expression.

Garreth answered your silent question. “Well, I didn’t hear anything, but Imelda sure was upset when she came downstairs, complaining that the two of you were going at it. It felt good to see that bitch scowling all evening! You’re not still pledging after this are you?” 

“Of course I am! Someone has to keep her in check, right? Maybe I’ll even run for house president!” You said confidently, knowing you had Ominis on your side for whatever you decided to do. Garreth walked you over to the front door, ready to bid you farewell for the night when Ominis showed up. 

“Are you leaving? I was hoping you would spend the night, darling.”

“I thought you weren’t allowed to have girls sleep over?” 

“Oh we’re not, but I’m the house president, I can do whatever I want!” A flirty smile formed on his face. 

It was already after 1am by the time the house had cleared out, all the boys returning to their dorm rooms for the night. You were cuddled up in Ominis’s arms, having just made love for a second time that night. You were much quieter this time, not wanting to wake anyone in the house.

You lay by his side, reflecting on your first week of college. You made it through your classes, you were finally reunited with your best friend, you were joining a sorority, you lost your virginity to an amazing guy, and that guy was now your boyfriend. Things were great so far. You knew things would get tough eventually, but you found comfort in knowing you had such wonderful people by your side.

You drifted off to sleep, dreaming about what other amazing things the school year could bring you.

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