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dilfl0v3rss · 4 months

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NEED more boxer!todo smut maybe one where reader is jealous of the fan girls ???

yes yes yes yes yes yes yessssss!!!!

you loved your boyfriend more than anything. he was caring, respectful, loyal, and most of all, he wasn't afraid to express his love for you. whether it be in an interview or literally in a middle of a match todo always made sure to let people know he belonged to you. though this was true, there always seemed to be those sex-crazed fans that saw your man as nothing but a piece of meat. eyeing him at every angle, just waiting to pounce on him when you're either not around or not looking. todo always told you not to worry about these women, but how could you when he'd do barely anything to keep them in check?

you were accompanying todo at yet another meet and greet, fixing up his locs into a much better bun than whatever he threw it in earlier as your beefy boyfriend sat uncomfortably in his seat. "wanna go the fuck home" he mumbled as he boredly watched the hundreds of girls scream their heads off at the entrance. your hand moved towards the back of his neck, plucking him lightly before lecturing him. "watch your mouth, these people are dying t'meet you and this how you repay them?" todo sucked his teeth in front of you, earning him another pluck on the other side of his neck as you moved in front of him, blocking his view of the entrance as you stood between him and the table. "ow! cmon mama, we both know that we rather be in the bed right now" the smirk on his lips already let you know what he was implying as he outstretched a wide hand on the plump of your ass, squeezing the fatty flesh as he peeked past you towards the door.

you quickly slapped his hand away, giving him a warning look as you began to move towards where the rest of his team and security were standing. "behave" you mouthed before both of your attention was brought to the swarm of screaming women moving towards the table. todo internally rolled his eyes at the sight in front of him. in his eyes he didn't understand why these women acted like this, never really paying attention to how he looked when he fought. you, on the other hand, understood completely. from his tight jawline to the sight of his sweaty, glistening body. you knew your man was fine, but that didn't mean you enjoyed when these women would act like this.

"oh my goshhhhh a.t please sign this!!!" the first girl yelled, practically shoving a picture of him in his face. he internally sighed at her behavior, his hand moving towards the picture before quickly signing his initials on it and giving it back to her. "there you go. loved that fight by the way, think i handled my business well. whatchu think about it?" the girl stood in embarrassment as she looked around the room, not having a clue in the world about what fight he was talking about since she probably got the picture from a random site online. todo turned towards you, a small smirk creeping on his lips as the girl quickly walked away. you couldn't help but laugh as you instantly thought back to the fight he was talking about. it happened to be the same fight you gave hime a little something in his dressing room before he went out.

the next group of woman to come up were much calmer, all wearing white t shirt with todo's face in the middle of a heart. of course they tied the backs of them, making their breasts nearly burst through the fabric as their one size too small miniskirts sat right over the bottom of their asses, they probably weren't even wearing underwear. "hi aoiii" the women said in unison, their high pitched voices making your eyes roll as the three of them leaned over the table. this time todo didn't seem as bored, his lip twitching into a smirk as he read the words on each of their shirts. the girl on his left wearing one that said "aoi", the middle one wearing one that said "is our", and the girl on the right wearing one that had a big pink "daddy" right under his picture. the sight of them made you cringe as you quietly scoffed in disgust.

"well this is new" he said with a chuckle, making the girls giggle as well. their breasts bouncing in their tight shirts as they basically eye fucked your boyfriend right in front of you. "we're such big fans todo, really!" the girl on the left said as she batted her long lashes at him. "yea we've been t'nearly every match!" "n'when we couldn't get tickets we'd watch you on tv!" the other two followed, leaning closer towards him on the table as he kept that dumb smirk on his face. "well i appreciate that ladies, i could tell y'all are big fans" you were getting irritated now. your nails digging into your palms as you watched the girl in the middle hand him a gift box with a bright pink bow on it, small smirks on their faces as they waited for him to open it. "want me t'open it now or later?" each of the girls quickly replied. "now!" a fit of giggles following as they watched the man slowly undo the bow.

as todo removed the lid he nearly choked on his tongue. inside the box sat three pairs of panties, each a different color which also happened to match the colors of the words on each of their shirts. the girl on the left's being baby blue, the girl in the middle's being black, and the girl on the right's being pink. his eyes widened before he slowly put the lid back on, picking up the sharpie and looking at the three woman. "w-what y'all want signed?" he said, clearing is throat after he spoke in which the girls replied almost immediately by pointing to the small line in the top right corner of the big heart in the middle of each of their shirts. of course this was also where their left breasts were located, making todo's heart nearly stop beating in his chest.

you were fuming now, feeling as if steam was being released from your ears as you watched this man, YOUR man, smile from ear to ear as he signed his name on each of their shirts. you couldn't watch the scene any longer, turning on your heals and walking towards the exit to wait for him in the car. todo didn't even notice until he heard the exit door slam onto the wall when you opened it, your back turned to him as you angrily walked away. "s'cuse me for a minute" he mumbled, getting up from his seat to follow you outside. the girls giggly attitudes were quickly replaced with sadness as they watched todo walk away as if all the things they just did meant nothing.

you were nearly at his car now, the keys already in your purse since he gave them to you when it was time for the event to start. "mama...baby where you goin?" you ignored him, continuing your search for his keys so you can just go. todo didn't give up though, walking up behind you before lightly pulling your arm around so you can face him. "what's the issue?" was he dumb? did he really not see the problem in what just went on? anger began to cloud your brain, making all your movements rougher and full of attitude as you snatched your arm from his hold and waved your hands in his face as you spoke.

"nigga are you dumb, stupid, or a complete fuckin idiot cause there's no way in hell you don't understand what the problem is" todo's face hardened at your disrespectful attitude, his jaw clenching as he stared down at you with serious eyes. "who the fuck you talkin to like that y/n? don't make me embarrass you out here." you scoffed, his words not putting a single drop of fear in your heart as you pushed your finger into his chest. "you already did that when you was in there signing tiddies and smiling all in bitches faces you hoe ass nigga. m'not finna go back n fourth wit you when i know i could have a new nigga in my bed by tonight so you can go back in there wit your little girlfriends and leave me the fuck alo-" before you knew it your view quickly changed from aoi's face to the upside down view of his lower back as he threw you over his shoulder.

"nigga put me down ion care if you a pro boxer i will fuck you up out here!"

"yeah yeah whatever you say, jus keep that same energy when we get in there."

'in where?' you thought. nevertheless, you continued slapping your hands on his back, trying to free yourself from his strong hands. before you knew it the two of you were back inside, the attention of almost every person in there on you and todo as he continued his journey to the bathroom, not paying them any mind. he became irritated with your small fists hitting his back, using his much larger hands to his advantage as he left a light tap on your ass, "cut it out ma, you only makin it worse for yourself." the three women still stood in their spots in front of his table, looks of jealousy on each of their faces as they watched you. your current state made you embarrassed as you looked at the group of girls the best you could as you hung over your boyfriend's shoulder. todo payed all of them no mind, silently walking into the bathroom and locking the door before putting you down.

as soon as he released you, you made quick work of giving him a piece of your mind as you fixed your dress in the mirror. "stupid ass nigga, now you standing there all mad at me cause i told you the truth. im not trippin over you aoi you can go be wit them bitches right now and i wouldn't bat an eye." you dug yourself into an even deeper hole as you continued to fix yourself up in the mirror, not paying the man any mind as he walked up behind you. he was close, leaving no room between your ass and his print as he dropped his lips towards your ear. "you done?" the sound of his voice made arousal rush to your core, but you feigned indifference. why was he so calm? on other days when you would get like this your boyfriend would usually entertain it, feeding into your attitudes by arguing with you, today felt different.

your gazed moved towards his in the mirror. you were going to speak, but the look in his eyes told you that maybe it was better if you didn't. the look he carried was one you've never seen up close like this before. this was the same look he had before getting in the ring with that one mouthy opponent. the same opponent that ended up getting sent flying to the other side of the ring in just the first round. so you settled for a slow nod instead, an apology already on the tip of your tongue as you felt his wide hand outstretch on your the middle of your back. "bend over f'me then" he left you no more room for arguments as he already had you bending over the sink with his hand, his eyes never leaving yours as he used his other hand to lift up your dress. "why you mad at me baby?" you opened your mouth to speak, but was cut off by the sound of his deep, menacing voice, "and before you answer that lemme remind you that ian flirt with those girls, didn't let em touch me, didn't even ask f'their names. just been polite and signed my name on their shirts so why you mad at daddy, baby?"

as you thought back to the events that happened you realized how wrong you were, you fucked up. you were so blinded by jealousy that you didn't notice how respectful your man was still being to you during the entire situation. tears began to well in your eyes, your bottom lip already trembling as an apology sat ready on your tongue. "sh sh sh, m'not hearin none of that right now. tell me why you upset" your tears escaped you as you spoke, your breathing already picking up speed as you tried to get through a single sentence without sobbing. "cause i was j-jealous" todo nodded his head at your truthfulness, freeing himself from his black jeans before lining himself up with your entrance. "and what did papa said t'do when you start feelin that way princess?"

your tears fell more frequently now, your voice quieting down almost to a whisper as you shyly told him the words he wanted to here. "said t-to talk t'you about it to avoid stuff l-like this" he nodded again, tightly gripping your hips as he slowly sunk into you. the moan you let out was sinful, the thin walls of the bathroom doing probably nothing to keep everyone outside from hearing the two of you. "auughh d-da-" "sh sh shh, you was able to remember everything you was supposed t'do, but still managed not t'do it. y'know what that means right?" you slowly nodded your head, earning you a hard slap on your ass. the stinging pain of his rough palm caused more tears to fall as your legs buckled under you. "y-yes, m-means i'm in tr-trouble"

todo hummed in delight at your compliance, one of his hands snaking up your back and into your hair as he gripped your hip firmly with his other. "m'glad you know, take what i give you and if i see you tryna run imma just go deeper, y'hear me?" you didn't even get the chance to reply before you felt every inch of his dick begin to move in and out of you at a slow pace. the sound of his hips and your ass already filling the room as you released whiney moans into the air. "m'so sorry p-papa, i didn't m-mean t'make you madddd" you whined, your hands clenching in a tight fist to keep you from pushing at his abdomen. todo ignored you, quickening his pace and strengthening his trhrusts to the point where the sink acquired a slight shake.

you knew that you wouldn't be able to last long if he kept fucking you like this, your back arched to perfection as he pulled you up slightly so you can watch him in the mirror. he quickly released your hip, moving his hand towards your chin as he made you look yourself in the eyes. "what's my name mama? say it real loud so all those girls could hear." his deep voice traveled right between your legs, your arousal only growing as he felt your essence begin to spread all over his thighs. your eyes lost their focus, nothing but your release on your mind as you began to fuck yourself back onto his dick. todo couldn't help a devilish smirk from growing on his features, your fucked out expression almost making him ease up on you, but almost wasn't enough...

the next thing you knew todo's thrusts doubled in power, his hand gripping your hair tighter as he left three hard slaps to your ass. "y'hear me pretty? say my name." he knew you could barely think right now let alone speak, but todo had a habit of pushing you past your limits. your pouty lips parted, smeared lipgloss making them shine as you forced out the name he's been dying to hear. "daddy, f-fuckkk s'daddy!" your words were followed by a plethora of moans and whines, your release on the tip of your tongue as you felt his dick kiss parts of you that could never be reached by someone else. todo just smiled, lust dancing in his eyes as he stared you down in the mirror. "s'right mama, it don't matter if a girl put it on a t shirt or on her fucking forehead. daddy only got one girl n it's you"

tears began to fall down your cheeks, your pleasure only growing as you listened to your boyfriend reassure you. at the sound of his voice your walls began to tighten, signaling to him you were about to cum. todo moved his hand towards your stomach, pushing your back to his chest as he kissed up and down your neck. "you gonna cum? gon make a mess on your dick?" you quickly nodded your head at his question, tear stained cheeks shining in the dim light of the bathroom as you moved yourself back harder onto him. "w-wan you t'fill me up daddy" todo felt himself twitch at sight of you, your low eyes and glossy lips making it hard for him to keep his orgasm at bay as he quickened the speed of his thrusts. "ill give you want you want princess don't worry, give you whatever you want as long as you listen. you gon listen to daddy now?"

you replied almost instantly with a drawn out "yessss!" making todo's heart skip a beat as he quickly connected the two of your lips. the two of you made out sloppily, not worrying at all about the noise as your release trickled out of you onto his dick. your vision began to whiten as your legs buckled from underneath you. of course aoi caught you, continuing his ministrations until he was filling you up with his thick load. as both of your breathing began to slow you slipped out of todo's arms and turned around to face him. "m'sorry for gettin jealous baby, i just don't like seein you around so many women." you shied away from his gaze, making him put a strong hand under your jaw so you can look at him as he spoke. "i know mama and i forgive you, now can we just forget this whole stupid meet n greet shit so i can go home and fuck you properly. i hate these things just as much as you do."

the two of you laughed, getting each other dressed before quietly exiting the bathroom. you were surprised to see that all of the women had left, their hopes of pulling the pro boxer being killed by the sound of the two of you fucking like animals in the bathroom.

"looks like they already forgot it"

#aoi todo x black reader #aoi todo x black!reader #aoi todo x black y/n #aoi todo smut #todo aoi x black reader #todo aoi x black!reader #todo aoi x black yn #todo aoi smut #jjk x black!fem reader #jjk x black!reader #jjk x black y/n #jjk x black reader

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linopls · 6 months

Text

kinktober day twenty-six

masturbation jisung x fem!reader warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, mutual masturbation, fingering, handjob, talk of eating pussy 1.1k words

jisung handed you one of his airpods and you placed it in your ear and threw one of your legs over top of his. he adjusted the blankets so that he could rest his laptop between you and still see you, but it still covered the two of you up incase of any uninvited visitors.

jisung had texted you an hour ago saying that none of the boys were home and you should come over and let him blow your back out. just as the two of you were about to get down to business, four of the members arrived home and made themselves home in the living room, which shared a wall with jisung’s bedroom.

you two were both too scared to get caught in the act and have been racking your brains for a solution to your guys’ problem for twenty minutes.

“wanna watch porn together?” you suggested.

“we don’t watch the same stuff,” jisung responded.

“watching you get off will get me off. you can turn on literally whatever you want.”

“you want to masturbate together?”

and now the two of you were here, both of your guys’ legs spread and hands between them as porn video of your mutual choices played through the airpods. you leaned your head on jisung’s shoulder as your eyes wandered between jisung’s cock and the video.

you weren’t super interested in the video. you picked it out together but in all honesty the real treat was watching jisung jerk himself off. watching him know exactly how to touch himself to make him feel the best made you aroused beyond belief.

he sent you a video of him masturbating once. you had asked once in conversation and later than week a video appeared in your text. you watched the way he teased himself with his thumb and he let his hips fuck up into his fist. you took note of his small quirks and implemented them the next time you pleasured him. afterwards he had asked you how you got so good at handjobs and you said you learned from the best.

you were doing the same thing now. watching how he focuses on his leaking slit. how he always holds in with the middle of his palm against the vein that ran up the underside and his fingers wrapped around and spread. you watched how he moved his wrist and how he tightened his grip at the base and loosened it towards the head.

your own fingers lazily rubbed your clit, gathering your own arousal with your digits to use as lube. very soft and quiet moans came from your mouths and jisung periodically placed kisses on the top of your head.

“y/n,” he whispers. “i love you.”

“i love you too, ji.” you reach for his unoccupied hand and squeeze it softly.

“you’re still okay with this, right?” he asks.

“mhm,” you reassure him, dipping your fingers into your hole again.

jisung lets go of your hand and moves his fingers to his mouth. you watch as his coats his digits with his spit before his arm crosses over the screen and he takes over rubbing circles on your clit. you moan softly as your hips unconsciously move up to his touch. something about the way he touches you feels better than when you do yourself.

you turn your attention back to the video playing in front of you. the guy has the girl pinned up against the wall of the shower and is eating her out from the back. the way the camera is angled allows for the stars to have complete anonymity, which makes it easy for you to picture you and jisung in this situation.

jisung had eaten you out from the back once before. it wasn’t in the shower but during one of their concerts, he came off after doing a solo performance and met where you were watching from the wings. he quickly grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you back to his private dressing room and bent you over the vanity and pulled your panties to the side.

“what are you thinking about?” jisung asks and you’re brought back to the present.

“hm?”

“you’re thinking, i can hear the gears turning in your head.”

you nod your head towards the porn video playing in front of you both. “thinking about when you had me like that in your dressing room.”

“ah,” he nods and places another kiss to the top of your head. “i was thinking about you while performing my song. when i saw you in the wing all i could think about was eating your pretty cunt.”

you moan softly and turn your attention back to jisung’s cock. you realize that he’s stroking himself at the same pace he’s circling your clit, you try to match your two fingers to the same pace as well.

“you tasted so good that night. would’ve ate you out again and again if i didn’t have to go back on stage.”

you move your hips up to feel more of him and turn your head to face him, he does the same. you lock eyes with him, and although the lighting is dim, you can still make out the lustful look in his eyes.

“i realized, when i got back on stage, that i still had your cum on my face.”

your eyes widen and your jaw goes slack. the idea of him performing with your arousal on his face in front of thousands makes you dizzy.

“mhm.” jisung pressed his forehead to yours. “had me licking my lips like crazy. stays thought it was so hot and some fansites got some good pictures of it.”

you realize that jisung’s pace has sped up. you reach out your spare hand to grab the base of his cock and try to speed up your pace with the other.

“those pictures go viral every so often. and every time i see them, all i can think about is my tongue buried in your delicious pussy.”

the video is long forgotten. jisung and his dirty words send you over the edge. you whisper a small ‘cumming’ before spilling onto your hand and the sheets.

“that my girl. make a mess on our hands,” jisung coos, continuing to work your sensitive bud.

you look back to his aching cock and watch his hand work skillfully on it. you take your other hand, still slick with your release and rub it on the tip of his dick. he twitches and you can feel the vein on the underside pulse as he shoots his release into your other hand. you take your cum soaked hand to your lips and hold eye contact as you lick it clean.

“wow,” jisung sighs. “you’re amazing.”

“i didn’t even do anything, it was all you” you giggle.

“watching you cum gets me off better than any video,” he smiles.

jisung simps please rise.

@rockstrhanji @hyunjinhoexxx @mixtape-racha @euphoric-univers @haruharu-egypt @shit-why-what @twiggoblin @kookiesbunny @virgohannie @nataliee10 @ihrtlix @aaasia111 @lolli4me @lilcutieana @changbinsrightboob @hanjisunglover @chansducky10 @elissasimp @boi-bi-ahaha @lilquokka04 @anglerfishiey @sirenscall1031 @might-be-a-rat @jihyun2monster @kpflyn @samsmitty @imwithurmother @meilix @summer3sworld @mysweethannie @kittykattime @linoots @yaorzu-blog @sofiaeli

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serosluv2 · 4 months

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obsessed bf x pretty gf trope hcs w sero & shoto pls & ty 😁😁 (seperately pls)

It’s only 7 months late but here u go anon 😘

a/n: I wrote this in an hour in the bathtub so if it is shit- don’t tell me bc I’m just getting back into writing 😭😭

Shoto Todoroki

He fits this trope so well.

He is THEE resident pretty boy of UA so it makes perfect sense that he has the prettiest girl in all of Japan. (The world)

He is the teeny weeny ist bit dense on like how to take proper photos of you for the ‘gram but trust that he WILL be searching up everything about lighting and angles and exposure and zoom- all that nonsense.

If you’re a social media girly he may leave like one or two comments. He isn’t the best about being outwardly obsessed with you, he is all about those private small moments. Not being able to take his eyes off you anywhere. Always needing to be beside you. If he can’t be with you then trust he is texting you at every free moment and expects a response within 5 minutes.

He loves shopping with you and helping you pick out outfits or jewelry or how to style your makeup that day. He has no real opinion on what looks better tho he just loves seeing you get all prettied up. (Yk that tiktok where the girl is trying to decide on a dress color and her bf is just like “wtv u want mama u look breathtaking in both” ?That’s him.)

I feel like he doesn’t really buy you anything in the beginning of your relationship bc he doesn’t really see the point/value or something in that BUT all it takes is for kaminari to get you some product you’ve been wanting for a while for secret santa and seeing how touched you were by the gesture sends him into over drive:

“OH MY GOD! KAMI!!” You exclaim- wrapping your arms around him. “How did you know? I’ve been looking for this everywhere!” Shoto notices how big your eyes got and the slight blush on your cheeks from excitement and he feels, something unpleasant. Jealousy? Envy? Possessiveness? Whatever it is he doesn’t like how grateful you’re acting toward the blonde. I mean sure, he got you something nice you’ve wanted but that’s not his job (he just so happened to get you for secret santa so he kind of had to get you something) he’s not your boyfriend only your boyfriend- HIM- should be gifting you stuff. Then he kinda has a “ohh.” Moment and realizes he has never really gotten you anything just because.

Anyways after that whole interaction he is getting you anything and everything you look at for more than a second. You keep looking at some necklace at the store? Bought. He sees you liking tiktoks about girls getting flowers? Now you’re getting a bouquet every date night. Does he himself have money? No, but that No.1 hero daddy sure does. And let’s be honest he kind of owes shoto for making his childhood - for lack of a better word- awful.

In conclusion, Shoto loves his pretty girl and will do anything she asks of him without question.

Hanta Sero

Clawing at my cage for this man.

Now sero has been… infatuated with you since he first laid eyes on you one faithful morning. You were ordering at some coffee shop he passes by on his way to school and just one glance had him stopped dead in his tracks. The way your hair framed your face perfectly, your face in general because holy shit- you were gorgeous. Straight out of a magazine. He quickly took notice of the little embellishments you made to your uniform.. uniform? The same one Mina has. OH MY GOD YOU GO TO UA AND HE HAS NEVER SEEN YOU BEFORE?

He literally cannot stop thinking about you and boom you appear again in the halls. Your going the opposite direction has him with your friends and he sees you all have a little cafe cup. Did you buy them all a drink before class? So you’re stupidly gorgeous and nice. Great, he, for sure, has no chance with you now.

But oh that’s where he is wrong.

When you guys start dating he actually cannot believe it. He is very guarded at first because- now it’s my personal hc that sero is a bit insecure- he can’t fathom how you, YOU, would actually want to date someone like…him.

But once those walls come down he doesn’t shut up about you. Seriously all his friends are so annoyed:

“Good god soy sauce if you mention your little girly friend again I’m hurling you across the city.”

“You’re just mad you don’t have a girl as pretty as mine- don’t worry baku-man, I’m sure one day some poor person will take pity on your soul.”

Sero did in fact get hurled across the city that day.

Now where he differs from Shoto is that this man is a GOD with a camera. He has that artistic eye and is able to capture you being your baddest/cutest/authentic self.

Literally ya’ll

He also has a good sense of style. He never thinks you look bad in one thing versus another but he will take into account the vibe of where you’re going and what’s you’ll be doing and give his opinion based on that. Because he grew up with sister and knows how to get around the “which one looks better?” Type question without hurting you.

Now sero doesn’t have money to spoil you senseless but what he does have is the forever lasting instinct to put your comfort above his own. It’s freezing and you didn’t wear a jacket because “a hoe ever gets cold”? Don’t worry sero will give you his and be visibly growing icicles on his body to keep you warm. Feet hurt from those impractical shoes? He’s caring you all the way home even if he is still terribly sore from a killer arm workout the day before with kirishima. A no a mudy puddle and you’re wearing your new white shoes :(! Well sero is laying his jacket down over it or simply caring you over the puddle. He isn’t the type to roll his eyes at how “ridiculous” or “spoiled” you’re being. You are y/n freaking l/n. He’ll do whatever you need to make sure nothing in your life goes wrong.

He also is the type to spam comments in your TikTok or Insta post and makes all his friends do the same. Not that you need it- he just loves fueling your ego.

#woohoo first day back after my 6 month leave #not that any of yall care #also I started watching jjk (yeah in late I know)#sero x reader #sero hanta #mha headcanons #hanta sero #hanta sero x reader #shoto x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #shoto torodoki

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tired-biscuit · 6 months

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naruto is the kind of guy who begs to eat you out. like, he has *never* played it cool and you’ve always known he was into you. but one night he’s hanging out at your place and you look so cozy and domestic and soft and squishy and he just—“c’mon please let me make you feel good! you just look so cute!! i’ll be so good at it, i swear!!!” and when you say yes it’s the first time you see naruto actually focus on something that’s not training or ramen (turns out your pussy is the third and final interest naruto has in life) and he absolutely demolishes you—leaves you without your pants or your soul—on the couch.

18+ MDNI // cw: oral (f!receiving), unestablished relationship.

this is so cute, especially for like a situationship kind of thingy.

like, maybe there is an obvious spark dancing between you even if you aren’t exactly official yet. maybe you hang out a lot, but don’t call it dating just yet even if you love to do stuff together.

maybe you keep him company at the food places that are open 24/7 because he tends to get bored and hungry a lot and goes to bed super late, and maybe he sometimes spends the night at your place as a result afterwards; wrapped in your embrace and wearing nothing else but his underwear because he doesn’t have anything else to sleep in — of course.

maybe you keep making people assume that you’re a couple because of how you always make sure to sit together whenever you’re out with a group of friends, or how his arm is always draped around your shoulders, or how you’re constantly ruffling his hair and hugging him goodbye.

maybe you’ve even shared a couple of kisses and some heavy petting here and there whenever one drink too many got involved and he offered to walk you home from the bar even if he could barely stand upright himself.

that kind of thing.

so when he makes an actual move on you for the first time — completely sober and halfway through an excruciatingly shitty movie that he picked — you’re kind of surprised, but at the same time… not really?

after all, it’s pretty obvious that he likes you, it’s outright spelled on his forehead. and him being the confident guy who’s super open about his feelings, he certainly isn’t the type to deny it when he’s already dug himself a hole this deep. quite on the contrary, he tells you that he likes you right to your face.

you attract him. he finds you so cute, especially tonight, when you’re dressed in your little top that hugs you in all the right places and the comfortable shorts that sometimes ride up high enough for him to see the fat of your ass whenever you angle yourself just right.

but despite asking if he can eat you out and drowning you in compliments and eager promises, he can be quite the little shit when he wants to be, you know?

so he practically pins you down to the couch under the pretense of playfighting and initiates a doting attack of kisses that are peppered all over your face and that make your heart outright flutter with joy the moment you tell him yes. you can’t really blame him for it; he’s just very affectionate by default and has been waiting for literal ages to exhibit all that love he harbours for you.

you wiggle underneath him, trying to break free from under his weight so that you can return the favour, but his warm mouth is already making its way down your chest; leaving audible smooches that tickle and make you laugh quietly.

and even though he’s sunshine incarnate and all things good, he’s surprisingly strong when he wants to be. you squirm and instinctively try to push him away with the help of your legs, but it’s no use.

all it does is pull him closer. your legs are wrapped around his waist; he’s made himself so comfortable between them. his half hard cock is snug against your clothed pussy. the occasional friction you both experience makes you both breathe a little harder than you normally would and makes blood rush south.

he is very boyfriend material even if he isn’t your boyfriend, so the entire thing is literally just a series of loud kissy noises mixing with your squeals of his name. it’s fun and playful and sweet, just like he is.

and then before you know it, things escalate fast. he’s manhandling you into position, making you hug his head with your thighs as he licks you right over the cotton of your underwear, with your comfy shorts tossed somewhere on the floor and your cute top pushed so far up to the collar that both of your tits are out.

he’s messy and ardent to please. if the panties that you’re wearing are plain white, his drool will make them so damp that they’re practically see-through. he’ll make them stick to your pussy so that he can see the literal outline of it; tracing your sticky slit over and over again with the tip of his tongue and finger, shaping you out.

and then when those panties finally come off, sliding down your slightly trembling legs and ending up dangling from one ankle, he really goes to town.

he’s all sloppy kisses aimed at your cunt and tongue fucking and drool, drool, drool. he’s bright red cheeks and lustful blue eyes that remind you of a sea gone murky after a stormy night. he’s mussed hair in the colour of wheat that you just can’t stop weaving your fingers through, and an adorably smushed nose that keeps on pressing against your clit as he keeps on shoving his tongue in and out of your tight hole, tasting you so much and so deeply that your slick is practically dribbling down his chin.

he’s a calloused thumb being swiped over your nipple and a broad hand wrapped in bandages as it tigtens its grip around your thigh. he’s broad shoulders, a fast-beating heart and sweaty tan skin. he’s overstimulation and loud slurps and moans and raspy whimpers as he keeps moving his hips and practically humps the couch because of how fucking horny you make him.

and finally, he’s also ready to cum in his pants the moment he feels you clench around the two fingers he’s shoved into you at some point.

especially because the name that you end up moaning out is his.

#naruto smut #biscuit drabbles #naruto uzumaki smut #naruto x reader #naruto uzumaki x reader

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sh1-n0bu · 6 months

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𝔫𝔬𝔟𝔲’𝔰 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 2023!

day 13: feminization with thoma from genshin impact

warnings: feminization, praise, strap/cock i’ll refer it to in both terms so everyone can feel included, hair pulling, lingerie, dacryphilia

notes: literally nothing on my brain rn. thoma’s such a puppy hhhhhh

it’s rare for thoma — the ever so loyal and obedient housekeeper of the kamisato clan — to get a day off. despite his master and young lady’s pushes and insistent efforts to let him get at least a single day of rest so he can get a proper eight hours of sleep, thoma just wouldn’t budge and refuse. but you know who can get him to budge? that’s right. his lover.

the same lover whose strap he was riding so desperately with a cute and comfortable red, lace bralette hiding his sensitive pink nipples. a matching red lace thong pushed to the side to allow his puckering hole to greedily suck you in. he even put on a matching red eyeliner and red lipgloss just to match the set he was wearing.

and absolute delight to watch.

watch as he struggles to hold himself upright, trying to continue bouncing himself on your cock as he lets out the sweetest whines. watch as the red eyeliner he struggled to perfect runs down his face, mixing with his tears and leaving a tear stain on his soft round cheeks. watch as he bites on his lipgloss covered lips, letting out a loud “anhhg—!” when you pull on his hair lightly as if to remind him to not silence himself.

what a sight for the sore eyes. but only for your sore eyes.

you’ve never taken your puppy of a lover to be the type to dress himself in pretty lingeries. saying he bought it just for you to feast your eyes on him and him as the pretty doll for you to ruin. saying he had a day off so you two could catch up on some much needed couple time. spreading his legs for you so tantalizingly, showing the lace thong that’s not even covering his hard cock already weeping at the slit.

bouncing on your cock with loud pitiful whines, thoma could feel the familiar churning feeling in his stomach. a familiar delicious heat tightening and coiling in his loins as he moans out your name.

a shaky hand reaches out, pulling yours to cover his bouncing cock with a sniffle. archons, you would do anything if he gives you that beautiful jade eyes, brimming with tears as the roll down his cheeks. he knows that and uses it so well to his advantage.

“p-please? darling, please help me out here♡︎!” thoma nearly squeals, feeling your cock graze against that familiar part inside him that makes his toes curl and eyes roll to the back of his head as he sees stars in his vision.

placing his hands on your stomach, the puppy of a man angles himself so that everytime he sinks down into the girth of your length, he could make you graze that familiar spot inside him over and over again. thighs shaking, letting out debouched moans of your name over and over, choking on his words. his final straw was when you finally decided to help him out as he pleaded, smearing his pre over his sensitive red tip.

that was all he needed to throw his head back, sobbing your name as his movements become sloppy, soiling your hand with his cum. before he could even catch his breath, you twist yourselves, now being the one on top as thoma lays on the bed on his back. blinking up at you with tear stained face and a soft, confused “m-my love…?”.

lips pulled in a soft pout, eyes wide and innocent yet the moans he was letting out of his drool covered lips were anything but. smiling at him reassuringly, you place a kiss to his forehead. to which, thoma eagerly receives with a soft content hum.

“you did a good job riding me, love. but now, let me take care of you instead, yeah?” your hand that was covered in his cum, slowly and tantalizingly move around him. hips matching the pace of your hand as you slowly pull back your strap before pushing it deep inside his puckering hole again.

thoma only nods eagerly, already dumb off of the feeling of your cock fucking him open. but his hands still wrap around your neck, giving you a cute, tear stained, heart pupil eyed smile.

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honeypiehotchner · 2 years

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the open road (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- one shot

Happy 5.5k 🤪🤪 I’ve literally had this idea in my head for a WHILE so I am mf glad to have it out. Enjoy ;))

Summary: All the times you and Hotch spent on the open road, and the one where you couldn’t help yourself.

Warnings: smut 18+ only blah blah we know the drill (pls!), car sex!! blowjob ;)) unprotected sex (don’t be like them, use a condom), lots of teasing, lots of fluff/smut adjacent dialogue

WC: ~2.8k

It started when you saw how Hotch drives when he’s in a hurry.

Your body flung against the car door despite your hold on the safety handle above you. Infuriated, you went to yell at Hotch to slow the fuck down, until you saw the look on his face, the way his hands gripped the wheel, the way his muscles flexed underneath his dress shirt.

Oh.

Oh, the thoughts you had were beyond inappropriate, especially considering the circumstances. You were rushing to catch the unsub, and you were having unholy thoughts about your boss.

You quickly focused your eyes back on the road ahead, chanting cleansing thoughts to calm your mind down from whatever the hell that was.

It worked in the moment, but only just. What truly didn’t help matters was that you somehow always ended up riding shotgun with Hotch, no matter what. Sometimes with Rossi in the backseat, but most times it’s just you two.

Which makes it impossibly hard to hide your staring.

On this particular day, you and Hotch went to a prison about an hour away to interview a serial killer on death row. This sort of thing is routine, but you’ve never tagged along for them. It’s usually Reid or Prentiss, but for some reason, Hotch decided to take you.

It was a boring day, to say the least. Traffic getting there was awful. The checks to get into the prison and then to the specific area took forever. To make matters worse, the killer didn’t really want to talk. He wanted to play games.

Needless to say, you feel like it was a waste of time. But you can’t say that to your boss.

Instead, on the ride back to Quantico, you say, “That was enlightening.”

Hotch scoffs, then laughs. “It was a nightmare.”

“Okay, well, I wasn’t going to say that.”

“It’s alright, you can say it.”

“Fine, it was boring as hell and a complete nightmare,” you blurt, glad to have gotten it off your chest.

Hotch laughs loudly this time. “You were holding that in.”

“Maybe,” you shrug, grinning. “Definitely.”

Hotch goes to reply, but stops himself when he has to slam on brakes. A sea of red taillights are ahead.

“That looks like a nightmare,” you groan, pulling up your GPS. “Two and a half hours to get home?”

“There must’ve been a wreck,” Hotch comments, angling his head to get a better look and that looks hotter than hell.

“We should probably get off at this exit,” you say. Thankfully, you’re in the far right lane, so exiting won’t be hard.

“Good plan,” he says, putting on the signal to get over to the ramp. “Can you navigate back to the BAU?”

“Sure,” you say. “Take a left up here.”

At first, the traffic is just as bad with everyone getting off at the same ramp to avoid the interstate, but soon it calms down.

You rant about the interview while navigating, not even realizing Hotch is replying to you until he compliments you.

“What?” you blink.

“I said you did good today,” he repeats. “You held yourself well. You should do more of these with me.”

“With you?”

“Well, I wouldn’t advise doing them alone.”

“Why not?”

“It’s better done in pairs,” he says, and that’s all he’ll elaborate.

So, you decide to tease him. “Sounds like you just want an excuse to spend more time with me.”

“I don’t need to make excuses to do that,” he replies smoothly, catching you off guard.

“Oh?”

“I chose you today on purpose,” he says. “Not as an excuse.”

“Oh,” you say, not sure what to make of that. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he says. And the drive is silent after that.

+++

Now, you look forward to riding shotgun with Hotch.

Maybe you shouldn’t, but you let yourself think those wildly inappropriate thoughts. And the more tame ones, which you’re able to voice, because he’s taken a liking to complimenting you, too.

“New haircut?” he says when you knock on his office door. He had barely glanced up at you from where he’s sitting, but one second was all he needed to see the difference.

“First one to notice,” you smile, stepping into his office.

“I just pay a lot of attention to you.” That’s enough to make you swoon, but he continues. “It looks good on you.”

“Thank you,” you reply. You study him for a moment. “New tie?”

“Yes,” he chuckles, lifting the piece of fabric. “A birthday gift this morning from Dave.”

Your eyes widen. “Is today your birthday?”

Sheepishly, he nods.

“Aaron!” you scold, blowing right past the fact that you used his first name. “Why didn’t you say?”

“It’s not a big deal, and serial killers don’t care about birthdays,” he says, grabbing his briefcase. He stands and buttons his jacket. “Are you ready?”

“I guess,” you mutter. “I’m mad that you scheduled this for your birthday.”

“Not for my birthday, it just happens to be on my birthday.”

“Same difference.”

“Alright, let’s go,” he gestures for you to go out the door. “Before we’re late.”

“We won’t be late,” you scoff.

“You just have to have the last word today, don’t you?”

You pause. Well. Those thoughts are definitely inappropriate, and you’re glad you stopped yourself from saying something you shouldn’t have. Especially with the rest of the team staring up at you and Hotch from their desks down in the bullpen.

They’ve been listening to your bickering for the past few minutes. They knew it was his birthday (courtesy of Reid), but they also know he isn’t a fan of huge celebrations.

Still, you’re upset about this, and Hotch has no idea why.

You bid the team goodbye as you and Hotch head out to the garage to pick up a BAU vehicle to take to the prison.

The drive there is smooth on the interstate. The interview is slightly less of a bore than the last few, but also not enlightening. Everything the killer said, you already knew.

Hotch decides not to take the interstate back to Quantico.

“It’ll only add half an hour,” he says. “I’m tired of seeing only interstate signs.”

“Suit yourself,” you say. Normally he can’t wait to get back to work.

You use this as the perfect time to corner him about his birthday, sure that he’ll regret his decision and get back on the interstate.

“How are you celebrating?” you ask.

“I’m not,” he shrugs.

“Why not?”

“Well, for starters, we have work tomorrow.”

“And?”

“I don’t want to be out late.”

“One drink won’t be late.”

“I’m old.”

You snort. “You’re not that old.”

“I’m 44.”

“Not old, I’d still go--” you stop yourself abruptly.

“You’d what?”

“Nothing,” you laugh. Shit shit shit. “You’re not old.”

“What were you going to say?”

“Nothing!” you cry, laughing awkwardly.

“Y/N.”

“Nothing, Aaron.”

“You can tell me.”

You shake your head. “I definitely cannot.”

“Y/N.”

“Aaron.”

You stare at him and he stares back at you, intermittently looking away to watch the road, but it’s wide open. No one is around. And he’s better at staring than you are.

“Fine,” you grumble. “I’d still…I’d still go for you.”

“Go for me?”

“Yes, like, have sex with you— with a 44 year old because 44 isn’t that old— Please watch the road and stop looking at me.”

He grins, but he looks back at the road. One car passes. You’re mortified. You want to jump out of the window and roll into the ditch and stay there.

“Will you say something?” you blurt.

He laughs, and that makes you grimace. This is not how you pictured this conversation happening.

“Thank you. I think,” he says.

“You’re welcome,” you huff. “Even though I shouldn’t have said anything. That was inappropriate.”

“It wasn’t inappropriate,” he replies, and his hand does what it has done this entire trip -- and drives in the past. He gestures into your space on the passenger side, each time nearly connecting with your arm. This time, his fingers graze your skin.

“Okay…” you hesitate for a moment, keeping your arm on the console, not inching away from his touch.

He doesn’t move his hand, either, and it’s strange. His knuckles brush down your arm, over your wrist and to your fingers where he rests his hand over yours. You can feel his own hesitation, wondering how many lines this is crossing and how many rules are being broken.

“So, if I-- if someone my age,” he corrects himself, “asked you on a date, you would go for it?”

“Absolutely,” you reply a little too quickly.

“It seems like you’ve thought about this.”

“I have,” you admit.

“Good to know,” he says, smirking. And that’s the end of it.

+++

It’s a slow progression, your relationship with Hotch. The many car rides together on the open road provide for perfect moments. Here, with no one around, the two of you can be affectionate without worry.

He holds your hand while he drives, occasionally bringing your knuckles to his lips for a kiss. You play with his fingers, tracing his knuckles, the lines on his palm.

Sometimes, when he’s feeling bold, he’ll rest his hand on your thigh. The first time it happened, arousal paralyzed you. Now, it makes you want to climb in his lap.

He has to know what he’s doing.

He squeezes your thigh and you’re done for, squirming in your seat like it’s uncomfortable.

“What is wrong with you?” he asks.

“Oh, don’t you dare,” you mutter.

“What?”

“You have your hand on my thigh and you’re asking me what’s wrong?”

“Do you want me to move?”

“No, you-- Let me just--” You move his hand, only so you can give him a taste of his own medicine. You place your hand on his thigh, dangerously close to his crotch, and his jaw tenses immediately. “See?”

“I see.”

You squeeze your hand, digging your fingertips in, and you see him swallow hard. “Want me to move my hand?” you ask playfully. You begin to take your hand away and he grabs your wrist, keeping your hand right where it is.

Oh?

He says nothing about it, so neither do you. The drive continues in silence, only the radio playing lowly.

After a while, you notice that not a single car has passed by. The two of you seem to be alone again on this road.

Your skin is burning with the anticipation of what you want to do. Your fingers twitch against his leg, wanting to move further up his thigh, but resisting.

He’ll tell you to stop. If it’s too much. You should just go for it.

So you do.

In a moment of reckless boldness, you stare straight ahead at the road and slowly creep your hand up his thigh.

You hear him inhale sharply, but he doesn’t stop you.

You trace slow circles on the fabric of his pants, each time inching closer and closer to where you want to be. His belt will be in the way, though. That’ll have to go first.

“You should tell me to stop,” you murmur, letting your fingers travel to his belt. You begin to tug on it, getting his attention. “Aaron?”

“Keep going,” he says, through a tight jaw. He glances over at you but then back at the road. His left hand tightens on the wheel.

He wore the belt that snaps, so you’re able to open it swiftly. Unbuttoning his pants, you tug the zipper down. He’s already hard, but not fully just yet. His restraint is unbelievable to you, but you know his body well enough now to get around it.

He adjusts his hips to give you better access, but accidentally revs the car when he does.

“Relax,” you chuckle. “You can’t run us off the road.”

“I won’t,” he says firmly.

You hum as you tease him some more, lightly touching him, smirking as he grows. Easy.

He’s uncomfortable, reaching down to move his underwear. If you weren’t so pleased with yourself, you would’ve swatted his hand away. But instead you let him do it, wasting no time in wrapping your hand around him.

“Your hands are always so cold,” he laughs, his voice deeper now.

“You’re always so warm,” you retort, stroking him gently. “Is there anyone around?”

He looks in the rearview and then shakes his head. “No.”

“Good,” you smirk, unbuckling your seatbelt. You lean over the console, glad that this model has such a flat design.

“Shit,” he cusses, realizing what you plan to do. He should’ve known better than to assume otherwise, honestly.

You take him into your mouth with a low hum, loving the way the muscles in his legs tense immediately. Only the tip rests on your tongue, yet you feel his heart rate beginning to pick up.

He talks a big game, acting nonchalant and cool, until your mouth is on him. He’s said before that he loses it all with you. There is no holding back.

Taking him deeper, you feel him hit the back of your throat sooner than expected, causing you to gag. This angle is different, and his hand reaches for your shoulder, a gentle touch, asking if you’re alright.

You suck him down again, better prepared now, and his hand tenses, lifting off your skin to not leave bruises, even though you’d like him to (but you haven’t told him that just yet).

To compromise, you grab his hand and place it on the back of your head, looking up at him. He glances down in surprise, meets your eyes, and groans, letting out the sound he’s been holding inside.

His hand pushes on your head, the pressure igniting something inside of you. You adjust to get a better angle, pulling back to swirl your tongue over his head.

The car speeds up again, but he catches himself, not wanting you to stop. His hand remains at the back of your head, keeping you in place, as if you’d go anywhere anyway.

“I’m gonna have to pull over,” he mutters, barely getting the words out.

You shake your head and he groans loudly. Lifting up, you look at him. “Where’s the fun in that?”

His head hits the headrest and he sighs, chuckling deliriously. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“You say that every time,” you tease.

He continues driving, determined now to not pull over. The thrill goes away if he isn’t driving.

Continuing as you were, you chase his release, desperate to hear him. You take him into your mouth fully again, swallowing with a contented hum.

You feel it when he begins to unravel, the way he twitches in your mouth, the way his abdomen tenses. He keeps your head pinned down, only lightly, but enough for you.

His climax is unexpected even for him, spilling down your throat without much more than a few seconds warning. He lifts his foot from the gas, willing his eyes to stay open enough to see the road.

You swallow it all, coaxing more from him, relishing in his little noises. If it weren’t for the console finally digging in a little too hard to your ribcage, you would stay.

You lift your head with a satisfied smile, squeaking in surprise when his hand on the back of your head pulls you into him for a kiss.

“The road!” you mumble through kisses, keeping an eye on it, even though it’s still empty.

“Fuck the fucking road,” he mutters, swerving to pull off to the side. He puts the car in park and pulls you back in.

“Aaron!” you laugh, letting him haul you into his lap.

“I can’t drive and do this,” he says, putting both hands on your face and smothering you in a kiss.

He grows harder underneath you, especially now that you’re sitting in his lap, grinding your hips against him.

“Thank god these windows are tinted,” you chuckle as he practically rips your pants off of your legs. You hear a seam rip and you give him a tired look. “Seriously?”

“I’ll buy you more,” he says, finishing the job and ripping them entirely. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Whore,” you snicker, but it’s broken off when he enters you in one swift movement.

“You were saying?” he whispers, smirking against your cheek. You can’t answer and he starts to grin, nipping at your jaw. “That’s what I thought.”

+++

When the two of you return to Quantico two hours late, the team starts to wonder what is really going on.

Each time, your excuse is traffic, stopping to get food, gas, or all of the above. But this time, there is no hiding the obvious.

Meaning, the way Hotch has to come into the office to grab your go bag from your desk so you’ll have a pair of fucking pants to wear into the building.

#aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch smut #hotch x fem!reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch x fem!reader smut #aaron hotchner x fem!reader smut #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic

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batterygarden · 4 months

Text

oh no! your big brother's best friend is the only one around to help you put in a tampon 😣.

yuuta x fem & afab reader. 18+ MDNI.

cw: yuuta is his own tw, somewhat taboo dynamics bc he has viewed you as a sibling, graphic period descriptions and blood, um it's sexualized, everyone's adults, reader just hasn't used a tampon before, yuuta masturbating mention, 1.3k words

“I just- I don’t know what to do. She wants us to take pictures in the pool! Like, I can’t avoid it!”

“Um. Maybe one of the other bridesmaids could help?”

“I’ve barely spoken to any of them! They’d think I’m so dumb, Yuuta!”

Yuuta can only lean against the bathroom door and bite his tongue, completely at a loss. He wonders if even the wisest man alive would know how to navigate this type of thing—his best friend’s grown little sister’s period troubles.

“‘M sorry.” He says earnestly.

He hears you sniffle and mumble how it’s not his fault. Then there’s a slam of what’s presumably a cardboard tampon box thrown to the floor.

“God, these instructions aren't helping at all! It hurts!”

Yuuta’s pretty sure it’s not supposed to, at least from his experience knowing people who menstruate. Tampons are, like, tiny. He catches himself before he can really pursue the train of thought he starts heading towards—one where he contemplates if you’re a virgin, and if somehow that could make it harder to put in. He has to mentally slap himself; he’s being disgusting.

“The YouTube video I sent—“

“No, yuuta, I swear, my vagina’s just, like. Different from anyone else’s. I need a doctor to do this, not some video.”

You’re talking through quiet sobs and he’s concerned and he cares about you but Yuuta also can’t help but think you’re being a bit ridiculous. Soon the both of you will be late to your own brother’s wedding.

“I can’t do this! I'm really and truly starting to freak out, Yuu!”

“Okay, I think—“

“Can you just come in and help?”

The breath is knocked from his lungs.

“Uhh..”

“Please Yuuta there’s no one else who can! We’ll be late!”

Yuuta purses his lips, checking the time on his phone for maybe the third time in the past minute.

“Um…”

“Please, just come in”

Deep exhale. “Alright then, I’m opening the door.”

When he does, he finds you exactly the way he expected, perched on your toilet with closed legs, your baggy tee barely concealing the space between your thighs—he’s glad to note that your hair and makeup at least seem to already be done and your dress is hung up and ready. He spots the tampon box on the ground in front of you, its contents spilling out on the bathroom tiles. Then his eyes find your hands hovering over your lap, one of them clutching a plastic tampon applicator, both of them with bloody fingertips.

Yuuta squares his shoulders.

“So what’s the situation?”

He’s very consciously only looking at your eyes when he asks, staring too long anywhere else feels rude.

“This thing is literally tearing up my insides everytime I try to use it—maybe I’m not putting it in the right way.”

“Kay,” Yuuta’s thoughts seem to be moving incredibly slow. “Uh, do you wanna try again and I could, like, read the instructions for you while you do it?”

You huff, giving a nod.

“Okay.” He fumbles with the box, sitting next to you on the edge of the bathtub. Another deep breath.

“Place the tip of the applicator at the vagina opening…” he notices you doing so out of his peripheral. His cheeks could not get any redder.

“Now slide it in, up to where your fingers are.”

He notices the way you hold your breath when you try—then you squeal.

“No, this sucks yuuta! I can’t even do that—I need to angle it perfectly parallel to my tummy so it won’t hurt and I just can’t.”

He sees you’ve taken out the applicator again.

“I honestly think you’re making this more complicated than it needs to be, yn.”

“Well how would you even know?”

“I mean. I’ve seen a woman put in a tampon before…”

“The YouTube animation isn’t the same, Yuu!”

“Uh, well… I meant maki.”

Yuuta watches as just about every emotion on earth briefly crosses your face.

“That’s—“ you shake your head. “Why?!”

Suddenly he wishes he had just kept his credibility to himself.

“She was my girlfriend at the time, it’s not like it was weird! What I’m trying to say is, you should just relax and not think about it so hard. I think you’re too tense and that’s why you’re getting hurt.”

You hyperventilate a bit again—hopefully getting it out of your system—before nodding and trying again. This attempt ends in another sob.

And there Yuuta sits, a foot away beside you, staring at the ceiling and praying to whatever god is out there for this moment to pass.

“Yuuta—“ you sniffle, “can you do it for me?”

…

Yuuta sighs a deep, long sigh. He… had an idea that’s where this was headed. And what’s he supposed to do? Leave you hanging right before a huge wedding which you’re both in the party of? While you’re crying and freaking out?

“…alright, I’ll try.”

He rolls up his sleeves, then he washes his hands, holding them up like he’s about to perform surgery.

You offer the tampon.

Gingerly, he plucks the bloody applicator from your fingers.

He squats down in front of you then, eyes flicking to your sniffling face while wearing his own similar, very somber, expression.

“You’re gonna have to open your legs.”

Slowly, you do.

And yuuta tries not to be weird about it—he doesn’t know what even constitutes a normal reaction here, but he can’t help but instantly engrave the image of your spread pussy, blood staining its lips and dripping out of it, permanently into his brain. He knows it’s permanent because he doesn’t want it to be. He knows he’ll think about it because he’ll try not to. This is some kind of test from the universe and he is failing.

He stares for a second, instinctively catching every detail. The way red smears across the plush insides of your thighs, the way you clench yourself automatically under his gaze, the way a red drop oozes from your hole when you do. The shape of your lips leading up to your clit.

He shakes his head microscopically to clear it, hoping you don’t pick up on his pause. He uses one hand to grip onto a thigh then, holding steady while he brings the applicator to you for the millionth time today. You make a worried noise.

“Breathe for me?”

When he hears you exhale, Yuuta eases the applicator in bit, angling it up whatever way feels natural, then he pushes the trigger so the tampon’s inserted.

You make a surprised gasp, mumbling a little oh my god before sitting up straight. Yuuta knows it’s finally in there correctly.

His hands are washed and he is out of that room faster than you could say thank you.

The drive to the event is less awkward than it could be, thanks to the news podcast Yuuta always listens to and an interesting story spurring on conversation. But yuuta can’t stop thinking about it. He’s known you since you were kids—only ever looked at you like a somewhat annoying little sibling—but now his brain keeps reverting to thoughts of your warm little pussy every other minute. When you talk, when you look at him, when you hold his arm walking down the aisle before the bride. When you dance later in the night. And most importantly, when his fist’s around his cock in his hotel room later, turning in early even after one of your pretty cousins kept trying to get inside his pants all night. He might not have turned her down under different circumstances, but he knew he had to when his head kept reverting to you, eyes darting to find you at the reception almost every other minute. Drifting to your body whenever they did…

#yuuta x reader #jjk x reader #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuta x reader #yuta x y/n #yuuta okkotsu fic #yuuta fic #tw.taboo dynamics #🐞 writes

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oomisluvr · 7 months

Text

practice

SYNOPSIS: it's the night before your wedding and — wait, should we just skip to the part where we kiss?

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol consumption, SUPER suggestive but nothing actually happens, sakusa is so in love but so is the reader so it all works out, warning: happy endings, atsumu is pissed lmao, 800 words!

“Should we practice?”

“Practice what?”

“Getting married.”

Egyptian cotton sheets, layers upon layers of mattress toppers, and memory-foam pillows that feel like literal clouds – KIYOOMI has the softest bed of anyone you’ve ever known. It engulfs you like quicksand, with no hope of escaping. You don’t want to.

“Okay,” you yawn, eyes still closed with your feet kicked up on the wall. “As long as I don’t have to get up.”

“You don’t have to.” He copies your yawn, knocking his foot against yours, “Because I sure as hell don’t want to either.”

That pulls a laugh from you, and Kiyoomi stretches his arm for what feels like miles to find your body buried somewhere in the comforter. He thwacks you in the face instead. You don’t even feel it.

“Ow.”

“Sorry, I was looking for your hand.” He finds it, then slots his fingers in the spaces between yours, squeezing lightly, “Found it.”

“You are so stupid.”

“Yeah,” He agrees easily, “But you’re the one marrying me. Which makes you stupid by association.”

You push your foot harder against his to establish dominance. Kiyoomi lets you, and his legs drag loudly down the wall before landing softly in the comforter. It makes a funny, airly little sound that makes you giggle. Your giggle makes Kiyoomi chuckle, until you’re laughing at the fact that he’s laughing, which in turn makes him laugh harder. He squeezes your hand, face flushed a strawberry red.

“Should we skip to the part when we kiss?” He whispers, and it sounds so far away, the baritones of his voice escaping you.

“Nah,” Somehow you find the energy to clamor onto him, collapsing your weight onto his lower half with an unattractive grunt. Something jumps to life beneath you, and you angle your hips in a way that makes Kiyoomi start to sweat. “I think we should skip to the consummation-of-marriage part. Right now.”

“Like, right now, right now?” Kiyoomi’s eyes are closed too, eyelids pressed shut like he’s dreaming. The faint smile on his face tells you that he is.

“Yes, like, right now, right now, right now.” You grin, making quick work of undoing the buttons of his now-wrinkled shirt.

“Okay.” He smiles harder, eyes still closed. Your fingers are moving so fast, “That tickles.”

It takes all of your focus to slip the ivory buttons through the narrow silk slits. You fumble with the same button repeatedly, your head so disconnected from your body. You don’t know how much time has passed since you first crawled into his lap, nor can you even recall how you ended up in bed with him.

You can feel your fingers moving, but you aren’t sure how to control the movement. You give up with a huff, “This isn’t working.”

“I can always keep my shirt on,” Kiyoomi hums, lifting his hands to fidget with the buttons of your pants. You’re straddling him in the way that makes his heart hammer in his chest, looking up at you like you’ve hung the stars in the sky, “This, however, must be done away with.”

This would have been romantic if he could actually get your pants off. Unfortunately for both of you, Kiyoomi struggles equally as hard, the buttons of your dress pants can’t seem to stay in his grip. With a sigh, his hands drop. It takes everything in you to not laugh out loud.

He’s quiet when he asks, “Does the bed feel like it's rocking for you, too?”

“Yeah,” you decide, resting your hands on his covered stomach, where you didn’t quite make it far enough with the buttons, “I’m very drunk.”

“I’m very drunk, too.”

“I don’t think this is gonna work.” You reach to poke his cheek. He catches your hand before you can make it, pulling it to his lips to kiss your palm softly.

“I’m so drunk I don’t even care.”

“This was a terrible dress rehearsal.” You pull away your hand in favor of touching his hair. It was meant to annoy him, as Kiyoomi hates people messing with his curls, but he preens at the attention all the same, “It’s the night before our wedding and we didn’t even fuck.”

With one swift motion, Kiyoomi opens up his arms to pull you into his chest, then rolls over to trap you underneath him. He lands an obnoxious wet kiss on your cheek, smiling softly to himself at the sound of your laughing, “We’ll make up for it tomorrow night.”

You huff and push his face away. He nibbles at your fingers drunkenly. “Whatever.”

“Thanks for marrying me, by the way.”

“Whatever.”

Miya A [11:47]: WHERE ARE YOU Miya A [11:47]: WE CAN'T HAVE A BACHELOR PARTY WITH NO BACHELOR Miya A [00:13]: AND NOW NOBODY CAN FIND Y/N Miya A [00:20]: you fucking freaks i should have known you two would run away together Miya A [00:30]: THIS IS THE LAST TIME I DO ANYTHING NICE FOR YOU Miya A [00:30]: 🖕🖕🖕

hiiii so im not dead! just rly busy w classes/work/internships!

but i have a couple short stories like this that im gonna put out every week for fluff-tober! so uhhhh maybe i'll make a masterlist for that idk

love as always, niko

#sakusa fanfiction #sakusa kiyoomi #kiyoomi sakusa #sakusa #sakusa x reader #kiyoomi #msby sakusa #haikyuu #msby #haikyuu sakusa #hq sakusa

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toorurs · 5 days

Text

AQUARIUS

synopsis: in which the both of you get partnered for a mission, but not just as work partners.

pairing: chūya nakahara x fem!reader | wordcount: 2.7k | content & warnings: fluff, mention of chūyas past , choppy writing + no proofead (you can tell when i got lazy + its 3am does it looks like im gonna proofread), unestablished relationship, they work at the pm, cursing (son of a bitch), chūya calls reader a term of endearment once (doll), dual pov | prompt: fake dating | onseshot

event: STARCROSSED 2024

tags: @azullumi hi beloved super cool azul ure so super duper cool. dont flip out but azul liked and rbed ur posts. me: (whys theres no backflip emoji) (we're literally friends). but omg i acc dont have friends im a mess im a loser im a hater im a user

a/n: i finished this at 3am also boo gingers perish /j. hope yall enjoy!!

“so? what are we here for, boss?

the auburn haired man asked. his left hand is glued to his side, resting on his gray waistcoat, his right hand was loosely shoved into the pocket of his dress pants. chuuya cocked his head to the side as he questioned your boss.

“i’ve made my decision.”

the man who was seated in front of you in his claret bergère chair announced. his slender fingers were encased in white adhesive gloves. the palms of his hands were facing down as he rested his chin on the back of his hand, magenta eyes flickering from chuuya and then to you before exhaling quietly and closing his eyes, pale skin draping over his eyes.

“after some back and forth, i’ve come to the conclusion that the most suitable person for this mission will be our dear miss [name]. she’ll be your plus one to the ball, accompanying you to your mission thus also carrying it out with you. gather information about our target and return as soon as possible. understood?”

the man before you asked, a playful smile had found its way on his face and his head was slightly angled to the side as he awaited your agreement.

“understood.” the both of you said in unison. chuuya took off the fedora that was placed atop of his head with his left hand and put it onto his chest as he closed his eyes and the both of you bowed down.

“very well then. i await good news.” mori continued to smile as he gestured to both of you to take your leave by waving.

when you arrived back home, you immediately spotted two big boxes that were placed in your living room. one of them included a gorgeous dress, although it was a bit plain - a monochrome dress, it was beautiful nevertheless. as you stood up to see how the piece of clothing would fit you, you took notice that it was quite long, the expensive fabric immediately meeting the floor. the material of the dress was sewn a bit tighter to make the waist stand out a bit more.

the other box contained a pair of matching heels in the same color. they weren’t too extravagant but still it seemed like the boss went all out when choosing the clothes. admittedly, you were a bit excited to see what chuuya would wear, would his outfit match with yours?

even though the both of you have worked together in the port mafia for so long and have been executives for a couple years now, the both of you never went on missions together, at least not when it was just the two of you.

chuuya gained the title of portmafia executive at the ripe age of 16, one year after he had joined the portmafia. while you on the other hand have only been an executive for a few years now. chuuyas strength is immense, not only the power of his ability but also his physical strength. he's not only respected but also feared among the members of the portmafia.

so to say that you were a tad bit nervous would be an understatement.

you set foot inside the big mansion, stepping towards the ballroom that was located right behind the doors of the entrance. a big chandelier adorned the ceiling, it illuminated the big room in a saffron-like color. the kaleidoscopic marble floor glittered beneath the opaline light and the large windows were shielded by white translucent curtains, behind them the moon and the stars were sparkling gracefully.

but they don't compare to chuuya - not in the slightest. he’s dressed in a suit that matches your dress, beneath his blazer there was a waistcoat and he doesn't wear his fedora or any other hat.

chuuyas eyes glow like a sapphire, the azul pair of eyes hides so much beneath them, they reach until the depths of the ocean, that is full of mysteries waiting to be uncovered - just like chuuya.

chuuya tenderly held your gloved hand with his left one, leading you to the side of the dance floor where everyone else stood, drinks in their hands as they chattered and laughed. the both of you came to a halt and the conversations stopped, attention solely on you and chuuya.

“my, some new faces. and who might you be? an elderly woman asked, as she took a small sip of her champagne.

“well, my name is chuuya nakahara. it's a pleasure to meet you.” he reached out his right hand to shake hands with the elderly lady. “ah i see. well then, nice to meet-” “the pleasure is all mine!” before she was able to finish her sentence someone interrupted her, chiming into the conversation. you turned your head over to the source of disturbance, a young man who was dressed in all white, hair a bit unkempt as he gave you a boyish smile.

“the pleasure is all mine!” the man repeated happily. “well, i'm sure it is.” chuuya murmured under his breath, giving the man a look that said “we heard you the first time.”

“may i ask who the lovely lady next to you is?” the man asked excitedly as if he had a hard time waiting. “oh you may.” chuuya responded in a faux courtesy tone. “she’s my spouse, my wife actually.” chuuya held up his left hand that was still intertwined with yours.

“chuuya..” you glanced at him from the side, whispering through gritted teeth, as you continued to smile nicely at the other people who were conversing and you could only listen.

“hm what is it?” the auburn haired answers, slightly raising his eyebrow as he turned his head to face you.

“it was supposed to be girlfriend, the boss never said anything about being married.” your voice croaks a bit, overall it seems like tonight your voice has betrayed you, sounding awkward everytime you exchange a word with chuuya.

“oh.” chuuya uttered.

“yeah, oh.” you sighed. the man seemed to take his leave and you continued your talk. “well, what's done is done. it doesn't matter now. let's just continue, carry out the mission successfully and report back to the boss.”

“yeah.” chuuya nods in agreement. “let's split up for now and gather intel and information about our target.”

“alright, i'll go to the other side of the room then and you stay here?” you ask.

“sure thing.” chuuya responds and calls over the waiter, asking for a small glass of wine, so he can pass the time a bit and doesn't only have to mindlessly listen to their boring conversations. after the waiter takes his leave, chuuya notices that you’re still here, next to him. glued to your place, not moving an inch.

“wasn't it your idea to split up? why are you still here? he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

you let out an exasperated sigh. “well, you see, i was trying to. but, someone's hand has been holding onto mine very tightly for the past minutes and won't let go.”

chuuya seemed to catch on pretty quickly and immediately let go of your hand. “m’sorry.” he mumbled. “ah, don't worry.” you cast him a small smile before leaving and step towards the other side of the room.

chuuyas eyes can only follow you. (they always have.)

after you left, his hand felt empty.

(but it's not like they’ve ever felt complete. he hides his hands to conceal his ability, the one that causes tumult and destruction, the one that makes him question if he can even be considered as human. his humanity is one thing chuuya still struggles with, it haunts him like a hunting animal, a wolf running and seeking out its prey, shredding it into pieces and devouring it without any mercy. but in this case chuuya can't help but wonder if he's the wolf who always seeks for the prey - the validation and the reassurance if he's human or if he's the prey that gets tormented by the constant feeling of knowing that he’ll never be (human) enough. for others, himself and you.)

the wine glass that he now holds in his left hand doesn't compare to your hand, it doesn't fill the endless void that chuuya sinks into. (he wonders when he’ll completely be devoured by it and eventually drowns.) your hand was the one that held out to him, the hand that’d pull him out of it, if he himself wasn't able to do so.

(chuuya is used to doing everything on his own, everything that once belonged to chuuya was stripped away from him, like a sheep that has its pelt ripped away from a wolf. his family, his friends, his humanity, they were once his. chuuya nakahara also belonged to him once - now he belongs to the port mafia. it has always been like that; it will always be like that.)

he can't help but grip his glass in envy as he watches you from across the room as you ecstatically laugh and chatter with a woman your age, it looks like you’re enjoying yourself, having the time of your life.

the way you laugh, move around so that the frills of your dress twirl with you, and eyes glimmer make you look majestic.

to chuuya you're not an outworldly creature like an angel that was chosen by the gods and descended from the heavens or a fairy that has magical powers to bewitch him.

you’re human - you’re more human than anyone else chuuya has ever encountered in his life, perhaps that is when chuuya really realized what it meant to be a human.

the raw and pure nature of humans was perfectly depicted in you.

the way you flawlessly managed to do every task you were assigned with and always came back with a bright grin plastered across your face, the way you always looked out for everyone, the way you sometimes went completely batshit during missions. you’re what chuuya has always imagined under being a human. (or perhaps all of his beliefs of being human have changed as soon as he saw you.)

you’re the large white and empty canvas that waits patiently until it gets filled with tons of colors. chuuya is the artist who holds the paintbrush in his hand, fingers trembling as he draws paint strokes along the canvas. pouring his heart out into the painting, vivid colors full of emotion, that say more than a thousand words ever could. chuuyas art makes paintings come to life - you. his muse, whom he could stare at for an eternity during an art exhibition, just like now during the ball.

you’re beautiful.

“mr. nakahara?” a male voice made him snap out of his haze, upon seeing who it was, chuuya almost spat out the red wine. great, it was the guy from before. “yes? how can i help you”? chuuya gives him an unimpressed look as he twirls the alcoholic liquid in his glass around. “I just wanted to ask if i’d be permitted to dance with your spouse. she's a really lovely woman, i felt quite bad for her because you didn't invite her to one single dance yet, even though you're her husband!” the man looks at him unapologetically.

son of a bitch.

but again, who was chuuya to judge? chuuya isn't in any position to forbid you to dance with someone, after all, the two of you weren't even together, the two of you were just partners, work partners to be precise.

still, there was something that stirred inside chuuyas gut that made him feel uneasy. an ugly feeling that made his gut churn. is this how jealousy feels? sure, chuuya has felt jealous a few times. seething in envy as he saw people with good relationships to their friends and families, people who were allowed to live a normal life, living just like a normal civilian, doing normal things, without having to worry. chuuya couldn't help but feel jealous.

but this time it's another type of jealousy, he’s not jealous of other people because they own something he doesn't but he’s jealous of the people who’re just as smitten for you as him.

“ah, well you see. i was just about to go and ask her for a dance. please excuse me.” his words are bitter and the glass of red wine is long forgotten, placing it onto the round table which is covered by a big white table cloth.

chuuya makes his way over where you stand, your cheeks are tinted in a rosy color, from the alcohol he assumes. your hair is a bit disheveled, have you played with the strands of your hair? but nevertheless, you continue to shine as beautifully as ever.

he tips you onto your shoulder and upon that you slightly flinch and turn around, eyes widening a bit when you see chuuya. “what are you doing here?” you whisper.

the auburn haired man doesn’t respond to your question, instead he bows down and reaches out his hand out to yours. “may i ask for this dance? after all, it takes two to tango.” chuuya thanks the gods that instead of facing you right now, he's facing the floor. he's not sure if he'd be able to bear it if you saw his flushed face.

your mouth shapes into a little “o” before responding. “sure.” you hum as you happily place your hand into his, intertwining your fingers. upon feeling your touch, chuuya immediately pulls you towards the dance floor. your movements start off clumsily but chuuya helps you gain and maintain your balance, swaying you around the dance floor and twirling you around, as the both of you dance hand in hand. one of his hands is placed on your waist and your hand has found its home on his shoulder.

chuuya continues to sway you around during a slow classical music piece. “i'd prefer some hard rock music.” you can hear chuuyas' little remark and cant help but laugh upon that, it distracts you from keeping your balance and tempo, almost tripping over the long fabric of your dress.

“careful, doll. you're gonna slip.” chuuya whispers. his warm breath fans against your ear, the heat rises through your whole body, making you shudder and your goosebump hairs stand up. you can only hum at that, too taken aback by the term of endearment, to properly respond.

the both of you slow your pace, your hands wrapping around his neck and his hands snaking around your waist to sway around. you put your forehead against his chest first, until you fully lean into his embrace.

this moment feels too intimate. that’s everything chuuya can think about, he’s scared that one day you too will also be ripped away from him, he doesn’t want that. chuuya likes you a lot, he adores the way you hum the sweet melody against his chest, the way your hands accidentally keep slipping off his neck but still return there every time, the way you sometimes step onto his foot but he stays quiet, yeah he’s absolutely whipped for you - he loves you.

but, is someone who’s out of this world, a non-human, who only moves in the shadows of the world, allowed to love a human, who lives their life freely?

chuuya doesn't know.

your line of work is dangerous, you could always encounter dangers that’d have a terrible outcome and chuuya wouldn't be there to prevent them, again, he’d lose everything that makes him human. chuuya isn’t sure if he’s able to live through this once again.

the both of you are work partners, crossing this line would come with its consequences.

but he allows himself to indulge in this moment, just this once. humans are greedy and selfish aren't they? it's in their nature. so being selfish for once, just this one time, just for you, wouldn’t mean committing a sin, would it?

chuuya buries his face into your hair, inhaling your shampoo, it smells sweet - the saccharine scent makes him relax. he presses a chaste kiss on top of your head, before gently continuing to sway you around.

after all, this is what work partners do, right?

e/n: tbh i didnt like this at all. it was so choppy just sentence after sentence without a real plot imo. i just didnt like how this turned out at all but i dont think id be able to write smth else or else itd turn out even worse

#toorurs #— STARCROSSED 2024 !!#bungo stray dogs x reader #chuuya x reader #bungo stray dogs fluff #bsd fluff #bsd x reader #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya fluff #chuuya nakahara fluff #chuuya x you #chuuya x fem!reader

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your-eternal-lies · 4 days

Text

_ LEFT HAND GREEN (oneshot)

Main Navigation || Please follow @your-eternal-library for all my fanfiction updates.

PAIRING — Loki x f!Reader SUMMARY — You hadn't planned on spending your Friday night playing a game of Twister chicken with a literal god, but hey—if it gets you to where you need to be...

WARNINGS — Plot? What plot? This is basically just porn (but with some feelings because, you know, romance). Minors, please do not interact.

LEFT HAND GREEN

"Didn't you hear me, Agent?" Comes a voice, smooth as silk yet twice as dangerous. "I said, left hand green."

You scowl, making a mental vow to yourself right then and there, that you will never again attend another one of Tony's stupid parties. You are swearing off alcohol. You are swearing off form-fitting dresses that make it hard to breathe. You are swearing off him.

Loki—god of mischief, former alien invader, and current persona non grata—your partner and the bane of your existence. The only reason the two of you have been paired together is because he's already gone through more agents than anyone can count, probably scaring them all off with the mere sounds of his batshit crazy.

Steve and Tony made it clear, while they understood your reluctance, that you should do everything in your power to make sure this partnership worked. They had run out of agents to assign him, and you were the only option left.

His usual Asgardian garb is gone tonight, replaced with the crisp clean lines of a white button-up shirt and dark trousers. His dark curls, usually slicked back with precision, not a single strand out of place, fall loosely around his face.

Maybe it was the bubbles from all that champagne that had you staring at him a little longer than usual. You normally can't stand him, his features laced with the same arrogance that had him playing puppeteer with an entire city. Your city. Despite his joining the Avengers, you haven't forgotten.

Although, you must admit, it's getting harder and harder to remember at this very moment. Especially while the two of you are a mess of tangled limbs, exposed skin, and harsh breathing.

Why did you take your clothes off again?

Oh right, you think as you glance over to where your little black dress lies abandoned on the floor. You were getting too warm from all that alcohol, and the fabric had been too restricting for a game of Twister.

Well, at least you're still wearing underwear.

All that smack talk you two had heatedly exchanged earlier comes back to bite you in the ass. He had declared that this was the most pathetic party he had ever seen. You, while not particularly fond of Tony's too lavish parties to begin with, still felt compelled to defend it out of pure spite and nothing else.

Wanda had brought the damned game, was met with a chorus of protesting groans, and then cast her big green eyes to the floor while mumbling sadly about how she'd never played before. The whole team then reluctantly caved, of course.

But soon, one by one, people decided to call it a night, eventually leaving you and your so-called partner standing before the wrinkled plastic mat, challenging each other to another round because obviously there wasn't even any competition.

He arrogantly proclaimed that victory would be his, by a landslide.

You proudly declared that you were much more flexible.

And now his large body looms over you, all sharp angles and smirks, his hands placed firmly on the mat at either side of you. Meanwhile, you try to maintain your balance, your arms and legs awkwardly bent underneath you... your lace-covered chest thrust up into his face, the warm puffs of his breath dancing across your skin.

"Enjoying the view?" You grit sarcastically, rolling your eyes as he grins down at your heaving breasts. You lift your left hand and try for the closest green circle, huffing in annoyance when it remains just barely out of reach.

"Why, yes," he confesses, his face so close that his lips brush against one of your bra cups. "Midgardian fashion is just so... quaint."

You roll your eyes, not bothering to entertain his response, trying not to focus on the infuriating shape of his mouth, your limbs straining as you try and reach that blasted green circle.

"And obviously you agree, seeing as you couldn't stop staring at me all night."

Now, that makes your ears perk up. "Excuse me? I wasn't—"

"You forget who you're dealing with, dearie," he chuckles, the sound scraping against your every nerve... especially a particularly eager one between your legs. "How do you expect to convince everyone you hate me... when you look at me like that all the time?"

"Like what?"

"Like you want to bury me and consume me all at the same time."

"You are delusional, Laufeyson, as always," you bark, turning your head away so you can't get lost in those dangerous blue eyes. "Focus up; I want to win this damn game already. I'd rather not spend a minute more with you than I have to."

"That's a bit rich, coming from someone who's underneath me whilst half-naked," his lips curve up into a smile, and you can almost feel the movement against your chest. "But I suppose this could serve to... strengthen our partnership."

"A partnership implies equality and trust," you say, your shoulders and thighs starting to ache from trying to maintain your position. "I definitely do not trust you as far as I can throw you, and you obviously don't see me as an equal."

"Says who?" Loki drawls, and the room seems to shrink beneath the weight of his question. "In fact, darling, as much as it pains me to admit, you're the only one around here worth talking to."

"Stop trying to distract me," you mutter, your brow furrowing in concentration. You try not to think about how long it's been since you were this close to a man... you know, when you aren't twisting him into a headlock or kicking the absolute shit out of him.

"Ah, so I distract you?" Again with that smirk. That smirk that makes you painfully aware that he's destructive, pompous, and always so fucking patronizing—exactly your type, apparently, given the way your nipples pebble beneath the lace of your bra.

"I will smack you," you threaten halfheartedly, angling your body slightly to make one last attempt at completing your turn.

"Careful, mortal," the teasing and good humour are gone from his voice now, replaced with something else much more treacherous, "your heart beats too loudly."

"Then stop listening," you grunt, your torso inadvertently sliding along his. You freeze when he hisses, right when you feel your lower abdomen come in contact with his groin.

"Impossible," he groans loudly, his head tossed back and exposing the long white column of his throat. You swallow hard the urge to lean forward and bite him. "Who's distracting who, exactly?"

You gape up at him, frozen, feeling something hard against your hip. "Is that—are you—?"

The shock of it all causes your elbow to give under your own weight, sending you crashing down onto the plastic mat. Loki lowers himself onto you almost immediately, trapping you between him and the floor.

"Looks like you lost," he declares, his large hands already circling your wrists and pinning you to the mat. "Do I get to claim my prize now?"

"We never agreed—" you struggle against him, your voice failing when he leans in close, your noses almost touching.

"Terms can be negotiated, darling," the god whispers, eyes absolutely blazing, flashing with a hint of green that makes your clit throb. "The timing, however, not so much. I'd like to collect now."

All thoughts of distancing yourself evaporate instantly as his mouth crashes onto yours, his hands leaving yours to slide down your arms, finding their way around the band of your bra. He latches onto you like he's starving for whatever you're offering, his tongue dragging across the seam of your lips.

Without thinking, you open for him.

You begin wondering what he is truly the god of, because with each stroke of his tongue, you swear you're being struck by lightning.

God dammit, you're kissing Loki—something your wandering mind had certainly entertained before, but never expected to happen.

And it feels so damn good.

"I see you everywhere I go, Agent," he confesses against your lips, his warmth leaving your skin as he sits back on his haunches, making a show out of unbuttoning his shirt and revealing inch after inch of perfect unblemished skin. He shrugs the garment off, a mesmerizing sight as the delicate material whispers along his sculpted arms and falls to the floor. "I can taste you in the air I breathe."

"Lo..." your voice isn't working, other than to let out a series of whimpers and moans as his hands return. This time, they find their way to your hips, his fingers teasing a path underneath the waistband of your panties and then gently pulling them off.

You clutch the plastic mat underneath you, breath quickening as he lowers his face to your newly exposed sex. The moment his tongue touches your aching clit, stars explode. Loki is relentless in the pursuit of your pleasure, the sounds and vibrations of his groans getting lost inside you as he completely buries his face in the wetness of your desire.

You screech as your hips buck forward, gasping over and over again as he practically tortures you with his tongue. He is not quiet about it either, the room filled with the sounds of his sucking and slurping while the pressure in your belly begins to burn out of control.

But just as you are about to be catapulted over the edge, he releases his hold on your lips and pushes your thighs further apart to make room for him. His hands are a blur of movement at the front of his trousers, the rasp of the zipper so loud in the empty room, before his cock spills out from between the layers of fabric, already rock hard and pointing right at you.

Loki covers you with his warmth immediately, finding his place between your legs and grunting when you wrap them around his hips. His hands squeeze your breasts and lift them higher, enough to take one into his mouth, lace and all.

"Yes!" You cry out as he sucks at you shamelessly, fingers tracing the swell of your tits, swirling his tongue around your sensitive peaks until your bucking against him, trying to relieve the tension between your thighs. His teeth clamps down as one hand snakes down your torso, finding its way to your aching pussy, unceremoniously sliding two fingers deep inside you.

Loki draws back, admiring the bite mark just above the edge of your bra cup, his lips curving up into a satisfied smile.

"Well, aren't you a vision?" He growls as his fingers move faster inside you, the heel of his palm rubbing against your swollen clit. His erection grazes your thigh, twitching as if begging for attention, but Loki seems unbothered as his eyes darken just a shade. "Beg me."

"Ugh," this son of a bitch; you would slap him if you weren't so desperate to come. "Fuck you!"

"Not quite what I was looking for," he murmurs as he removes his fingers from your hole. He replaces them with the swollen head of his cock, teasing your entrance with maddeningly slow circles.

"Loki," you threaten, the tone of your voice leaving nothing up for debate, but that was all it took. Hearing his name like that goes straight to his hips, them punching forward almost as soon as you said it, sheathing himself inside you with one smooth thrust.

His own breathing becomes laboured as he keeps the pace brisk, unable to help pushing in and out of you, relishing the way your muscles clenched and trembled as you fully embraced his hard length.

"I tell myself I still yearn for Asgard's throne," he manages between thrusts, voice barely above a whisper as he continues to fuck you into the mat, his hips smacking into the back of your thighs. "That this pitiful planet is nothing more than a chessboard, a stepping stone towards my glorious purpose."

Your fingers wind themselves into his hair, your bodies reacting to each other more fervently with each passing second. Despite yourself, you tilt your chin up as if to silently beg for another kiss, the faintest whine escaping your throat when he doesn't oblige.

"But somewhere between your infuriating presence," he grunts, punctuating his words with a particularly brutal thrust, drawing another pleasured cry from your lips. "And the chaos of this world, I find myself torn... between the call of power and the unexpected allure of something far more perilous."

You want to say something back, but he fucks you so deep it's like you can feel him right up against your throat. All you can do is hold onto him, gasping for breath, hanging on for dear life.

"Feelings. Sentiment. For you." He spits out the words like they're foreign, distasteful even, his hips keeping up their cruel punishment, but his eyes are almost kind when they find yours. His lips hover just a hair's breadth from yours, teasing and tantalizing as his body invades you over and over again.

His confession hangs heavy in the air, charged with a cocktail of what looks like regret and a vulnerability you never expected to witness from him. You feel your walls of defence crack, just a hairline fracture, but allowing more than enough room for him to slip through.

"You say I distract you?" He thrusts harder, the tip of his cock finding a spot inside you that makes you let go of the last tiny string holding any remnants of your composure together. Stars explode behind your eyes as you squeeze them closed, the plastic mat sticking to your sweaty back as you arch up into your orgasm.

You feel Loki lean forward and bite your shoulder, grunting as he fucks you through your climax, a few more thrusts before he himself tenses inside you. His hold on you softens, his teeth retreating and replaced with the soft cushioning of his lips, all the while his hips jerk again and again as he spills hot rushes of fluid into you.

You lay exhausted on the floor, sweaty and dishevelled and wrapped in a tarp of colourful circles and still joined together. You close your eyes, trying to catch your breath as Loki slowly and carefully wraps his arms around you, but doesn't remove himself from the warmth of your body.

"My dear, you're the one who won't leave me be."

Fin.

NOTES — Well then. I am definitely not going to church this morning 👀

#loki x reader #loki x f!reader #loki x female reader #loki x fem!reader #loki x you #loki fanfiction #loki oneshot #loki smut #loki fluff #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x f!reader #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki laufeyson smut #loki laufeyson fluff #summer's fics

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skylarsblue · 1 year

Text

✦Meeting & Flirting W/ The C.o.D Men✦

(Five scenes were gn!reader meets, flirts, and eventually gets with the C.o.D guys. You can thank Gaz & a Doja Cat song for this)

✧Gaz, Price, Soap, & Ghost. The others will come later✧ ✦Flirting, light sexual tension here and there, basically just fluff, some mild descriptions of wounds/war, no specified appearance but I do hint that you're shorter than the guys here and there in a subtle manner. Sporadic use of Y/N that I apologize for. Random callsigns I made up on the spot.✦

✧Kyle "Gaz" Garrick✧

Laswell walked beside Price whilst leading the team out onto some tarmac. "I know you all are very competent, but this is a rather big mission, and so I wanted to give you backup I think you can depend on." She said calmly, coming to a stop, turning to the four men. Ghost crossed his arms and bit back a scoff. Kyle smiled for a split second because of it, though shrouded in mystery, it was no secret that Ghost hated working with others. A black jeep rolled up from a slight distance. Gaz wasn't too interested, he'd been tired all day and meeting new people sounded like a bit of a pain. He adjusted the hat on his head and kept his gaze on the ground, even when some footsteps approached. He glanced up at least, not paying any particular attention to the five individuals in front of him. Though he did give his full attention to Laswell when she began speaking. "Team 141, this is Team Sonar. They'll be working with you this upcoming mission, which we still need to go over." The woman explained. Their captain shook hands with price, an older man with dark hair and a broad white streak in the front. Two younger men stood to the side, Soap greeted them. One was blond and the other, a light brunette, they looked like twins. The fourth one was fairly androgynous, tall, eyes cast at the ground. Gaz was just about to look back at Laswell when his eyes fell on the last member. Dressed in black military gear, holding a rifle aimed at the ground, vest decorated in patches and a filtration-gas mask over the lower half of their face. They looked up and locked with his gaze, a spark let off in the air as soon as they did. Gaz rolled back his shoulders, pinching the inside of his cheek between his teeth. He watched their eyes scan him up, down, then slowly back up. By the way their eyes scrunched slightly, he could assume they were smiling, giving him one more quick once over. It was hard not to smile as well, especially when their eyes stuck to him whilst turning to face their captains. "Careful sergeant." Ghost's deep voice made Gaz jump. "Ahem, right." He mumbled, shifting his hat down a bit. Though he did risk stealing one more glance, feeling an ego boost when he caught them doing the same.

"You ever take that hat off?" They asked, leaning on the common room's table as he sat down, arms crossed. "I do, I just don't feel like it." Gaz shrugged, adjusting the ratty baseball cap on his head. "The flag is literally fallin' off, mate." They teased with a smile, reaching to nudge the brim, making it push down. Gaz snorted and took it off for a split second to fix it. He gasped when it was snatched from his hand, smiling when he saw their face covered in a cheeky grin, holding the hat away. "Alright, c'mon. Give it back." He insisted, holding out his hand. They hummed, tapping their chin whilst looking at the ceiling. "Nnnoo, no I don't think so." They replied with their tongue stuck out. Gaz tucked his tongue into his cheek and glared at them playfully. He laughed when they jerked back as he lunged for it, smiling more when they hid it behind their back. "Oh, playing dirty now?" Gaz asked, moving to snatch it once more, only to be dodged. "I think you look better without it, actually. I'm doing you a favor." They insisted, backing up more and more. He naturally followed. They reached up to put it on, chin tilted at an endearing angle. "Should just lemme have it." Gaz shook his head, although he did enjoy the sight of them wearing it. "Over my dead body, give it!" He laughed. They blocked his arm when he went to grab it one last time, reaching into the back pocket of their camo pants. Good thing about military pants? Big pockets. Gaz blinked in surprise when he felt a pressure on his skull, raising a hand to feel a different hat. He quickly took it off and looked at it. A baseball cap with a British flag and an embroidered "K.G.G" on the brim, in a dark green color. He gazed at it with some awe, feeling a quick wave of sentimental joy enter his system. "I think green is more your color." They said, prompting him to look at. He blinked when they booped him on the nose and then turned to walk away. "Hey, what about my original hat?!" Gaz called. They turned, walking backwards. "It's mine now! No take-backsies!!" They giggled, rotating on their heel. The man ran his tongue over his teeth as he chuckled in disbelief. He glanced once more at the hat before putting it on, shaking his head fondly.

(nsfw implication in this one; cause Y/N a bold bitch) Gaz hummed to the tune of his music as he sat on one of the chairs in the common room, waiting for time to pass until their next briefing. Listening to Y/N make themselves tea, occasionally passing conversation between them both. The topic now? Why he never used his actual name. "I guess I just don't really get it. It's not like it's a bad name." They said, pouring hot water into a mug. Gaz shrugged whilst scrolling through a playlist. "I used to like it, now I don't. A lot of people don't like their name." He answered, glancing over at them. They placed a teabag into the water and turned to look at him, hip leaned on the counter. "Yeah, I guess. But usually there's a reason if you specifically dislike it, ya know?" They retorted. Gaz nodded and adjusted in his seat. "I guess...I dunno, anytime I hear that name, it usually means somethings going wrong? Either someone's needing something from me or I'm like, in trouble? So, I prefer the nickname." He explained, looking back down at his phone whilst they threw away the tea bag. "Then it's not the name, it's what you associate hearing the name with! You just need to put a different context to it." They said, though their voice was a bit muffled by his earbuds now. He snorted. "Oh yeah? Well, lemme know if you got any ideas." He said sarcastically, not hearing them walk closer. "Let's try this then." Gaz jumped a bit when the earbud was pulled from his ear, replaced with the feeling of warm breath. Hot blood rose to Gaz's cheeks and neck as the cupped their hand around his ear. "Oh Kyle...~" His breath stopped at the sound of a very convincing moan, heart stuttering as they laughed quietly, gently putting the earbud back in his ear. They made it a point to lightly drag their fingers across his shoulders when walking around him. Gaz watched them walk away with wide eyes until they were out of sight. He then sunk in his seat, hand covering the lower half of his burning face. He forced in a deep breath. "Fuckin' hell..." He mumbled while replaying the sound in his brain. They at least had a point. Hearing his name like that was pretty enjoyable.

"Gaz, Spark, how copy?" Gaz's radio crackled, Ghost's voice cutting in and out. "Copy sir, we're in a safe house. Hell of a storm outside, we'll need to wait it out." He said. Y/N was checking the pipes and looking around for firewood as Ghost gave choppy orders. The man huffed and took off his vest when he saw the fire being lit, grabbing a rickety wooden chair to pull up next to it. "Fuckin' snow." He grumbled as he heard the wind bare down on the house. "Not a winter guy?" They asked, making him look over his shoulder as they walked in with two cups. "Found coffee. I know you're more of a tea type, but warm is warm." They responded softly. He thanked them and took the cup, though he cringed at the bitter taste, swallowing so he could answer their question. "Nah, always liked Summer more." They nodded before setting their mug on the floor. "So, we're alone for god knows how many hours." They said, looking at a tactical watch on their wrist. Gaz rose an eyebrow while taking another sip of his coffee. "Yeah? What of it?" He asked. "You gonna finally make a move or should I keep pretending there's no tension here?" Their blunt words made him choke and began coughing. They laughed and lightly smacked his back, snickering when he cleared his throat. "I uh, wow, okay. Bit blunt to put it that way, innit?" He said with a breathless laugh, putting the cup down. "Bit rude to eye fuck me all the time and do nothin' about it, innit?" They mocked with a grin, making him blush, though thankfully the melanin in his skin left it unnoticeable. "Okay, I do not...alright, maybe a little, but listen." He laughed bashfully. He watched them roll their eyes with a heavy sigh, looking down at him with a smile. "What? Do I have to do everything?" He rose his hands up and sank in the seat slightly as they placed their hands on his knees, leaning in slowly. "Didn't take you for such a scaredy cat, sergeant.~" Gaz cleared his throat and couldn't stop himself from laughing nervously again. "I'm not a scaredy cat. I'm just...patient." "Patient?" "Yes, indeed." They hummed and clicked their tongue. "Well, I'm not." Gaz felt his lungs constrict and the air expel from his body once their weight rested on his lap, hands on the back of the chair, which creaked under their combined weight. He watched them take his hat off and rest it on their head. "So, sergeant major Gaz. You gonna make a move, or should I?" They asked quietly. He let out a slow exhaled before shaking his head. "You...are gonna get me in so much trouble." He said fondly, though he did invite them leaning in dangerously close. "Guess that's a risk you gotta take." They whispered back. He hummed in thought, stalling for the sake of mischievousness now. "Eh, only live once." He shrugged, grinning as they laughed, unable to stop smiling when the held his face to kiss him. Trouble or not, it was inevitable.

✧John Price✧

John sighed and messed with his dog tags as he waited of Laswell to come back into the room. She’d said she had something important to tell him. She finally poked her head into his office with a calm smile, giving him a nod. “A few weeks ago, you asked for a sniper. I found one I think is suitable.” She said, opening the door a bit further to reveal them. Stood in a compression shirt and camp pants, arms behind their back. John straightened his back as he took their figure in, acknowledging slightly nervous body language. They seemed young, but not by much compared to the rest of the team. “Alright. Lemme talk to’em.” John mumbled, motioning with his hand for the soldier to step inside. Laswell patted their shoulder as they entered, crossing the office to sit in the chair across from Price. Laswell left with the door closed. “You’re nervous, soldier.” He said. They swallowed and nodded, patting their leg. “A little sir, yes. Trying not to be.” They answered honestly with a little chuckle. “You afraid your skills aren’t up to snuff?” He questioned, voice gruff, trying to poke for insecurities. Not that he was cruel, but he needed soldiers made of steel on the field. “Oh, no. I’m 100% confident in my skills. It’s uh, just hard to not feel anxious when you’re sat in front of a captain with such an impressive resume. I’m uh, well, I’m worried about my impression is all.” They admitted bashfully, clenching their hands in their lap. John rose an eyebrow and let out an amused huff at their praise. “You’re certain you’ll keep up?” He asked. “Yes sir.” They answered immediately. John nodded, he motioned for them to stand as he did the same. They listened without hesitation. He rounded his desk and stood in front of them, watching them force back nerves in order to meet his gaze. He held out his hand. “I‘ll look forward to seeing you work, soldier.” He said. His smile grew when they shook his hand, a spark growing in their eyes. “You won’t be disappointed, sir.”

John huffed and rubbed his temple, soreness radiating through his skull as a result of persistent annoyance. He'd been put in charge of some new recruits, a batch of youngsters, all of which seemed to enjoy testing his patience. They all liked to slack off, lose focus, occasionally take a little jab at him. John was a patient man and did his best to keep his cool, usually only losing it in dire circumstances. But, he was a human, and humans had their limits, and the captain was at the end of his rope as he watched the recruits joke around. All right after he specifically told them to run laps, a standard training exercise. His frustration must've been obvious on his face, hence why Mist approached him. "You alright, captain? You look ready to blow a gasket." They asked, voice soft, showing sympathy. The brunet huffed and rested his hand on his hip, feeling a bit soothed by the gentle pat on his bicep. "These damn kids won't take me seriously, and I've bout had it." He explained, motioning to the group. The soldier's eyes widened and looked at him like he'd grown a second head. Unable to fathom it. They weren't much older than the newbies, and they'd already shown a genuine and powerful admiration for John. For various reasons. John watched them frown and shake their head. "Try again." They motioned, giving an encouraging nod. John was a bit confused but he cleared his throat and shouted to get their attention. "I said to run laps, not stand chit-chatting! Move it!" He demanded, voice rough and commanding, but not as intense was it was in the heat of battle. Y/N's blood boiled at the blatantly disrespectful laugh one recruit let out. "Whatever, old man!" A young man replied. John felt his jaw tighten and he took in a breath to yell again, on his last nerve, before a voice beside him beat him to it. "WATCH YOUR FUCKIN' MOUTH!" Mist exclaimed, voice echoing in the air like flying daggers. They'd been rather soft, quiet, and gentle the whole time they were with 141. Excluding battle. To see them so angry, so intense, it was enough to make John even jolt in surprise. "When your commanding officer gives you an order, you execute it on the first fucking demand! He said run, you sprint damnit! If you think you can dick around at the sake of the training that will save your life and the lives of your comrades, FUCK OFF BACK HOME!" They hissed, baring teeth like a raging dog. "Now, move it! Forty fucking laps at least and if I hear more disrespect at my captain, I'll have your fuckin' heads!" The recruits had already began on the track, wincing when the threat landed in their ears. John watched Mist compose themself with a look of shock interlaced with endearment. They gave him a bashful glance and cleared their throat. "Uhm...there ya go." They smiled. John let out a quiet chuckle and patted their back. "Remind me to stay on your good side." He said playfully.

(Brief description of bullet wound & war) The sounds of gunfire were sharp on the ear drums. Air permeated with the scent of rubble dust & metallic blood. Mist jumped over an enemy corpse as they dodged around a building, clicking the button on their radio in order to answer their captain. "This is Mist! Ran off about six yards east, where are you, cap?" They asked, chest heaving. "Three yards to your right! Haul ass before these cunts reload!" It was probably a terrible time to think it, but they couldn't help but worry about his throat, all those cigars surely made his voice rougher than it was naturally. That thought was pushed back by the need of survival, although their worry was barely focused on themselves, more on the safety of their captain. They found him settled behind some large stacked crates, littered with bullet holes. Taking no time to slide up beside him, huffing and puffing, face smeared with paint & dirt. "Are you steady, Cap?" They asked breathlessly. John nodded, adjusting his bucket cap. "For now. We gotta move out toward the evac, Soap's got this place set to blow and I wanna be out before it happens." He explained whilst loading a rifle. "Understood, I'll cover you." They replied. Whilst sprinting away from the enemy, ducking when the gunfire got heavy, their barriers were thinning. John huffed and pushed through, scanning for the next thing they could duck behind. As he did, he was left open. The young soldier's eyes locked in on a sniper overhead, gun angled directly at the man beside them. The world moved slow and frightfully quick all at once as they shoved John off to the side whilst shouting for him to take cover. The bullet spun through the air and made itself home in Mist's leg. John was quick to act, able to aim his rifle up at the roof, landing a rather lucky headshot in retaliation. "Damnit, soldier, what the hell were you thinkin'?!" He exclaimed, using his arm to help them stand. They didn't respond, teeth gritted in pain as the two of them continued to move. Making it to the evac wasn't easy, but it happened. The team left like a bat out of hell, holding up with shotty attempts at first-aid until they could get to a medic. John put Y/N on priority for one since the bullet was lodged in their thigh, risking a problem with an artery or bone. Thankfully though, it was just a muscle issue. They'd need recovery time and rest, but overall, they'd be fine. Likely to only sport a scar by the end of it. They sat on a medical bed as John heard the verdict, eventually waving off the doctor so he could speak with them alone. "What the hell were you thinking?" John whispered harshly. Though Mist was the more sensitive type, they didn't flinch, not a single waver as they met his gaze. "Thinking about saving your life." They answered. "And you got shot cause of it." John replied, making them snort. "I can handle a shot to the leg. Far less damage than losing you. In terms of pros & cons? I think I weighed'em pretty well." John felt his chest constrict as they gave him a satisfied smile, as if they weren't still covered in the signs of war. He opened his mouth and no words came out, he gave up and sighed, dragging a hand down his face. He stared at them for a moment. Eventually, his hand fell limp at his side, chuckling quietly. "You'll be the death of me, soldier." He said. They laughed and shrugged. "Nah, I think I'll keep you alive for awhile longer. That's my plan anyway." Their retort played like music in the strings of his neurons, sending waves of serotonin & oxytocin in his system. "I'll hold you to that." He sighed.

(NPC death mentions) The sound of paper rustlings and the scratch of a pen was monotonous and soul sucking. John had always been a diligent worker, but, he'd never enjoyed paper work. It was something he found particularly boring even as he got older, and there was always an air of somberness when he was filling out reports on men who'd died. Lost their lives under his command. In the late hours of the night where silence was suffocating and the loneliness began to grow more obvious in his bones, continuously marking his signature down on dotted lines until his wrists were sore. His throat was dry and his eyes stung. There was a bottle of whiskey on a side table calling his name, but he didn't have the energy to move, and he knew it wouldn't satisfy any actual thirst. The sigh he let out was full of exhaustion. Then, he flinched, silence broken by a knock at the door. The brunet's brows furrowed in confusion & suspicion, given lights out was at least two hours ago. "Who is it?" He called after clearing his throat. "It's me." The voice was unmistakable, and though he hated to admit it, his shoulders relaxed slightly. "Enter." He instructed, finding it worrisome how it felt easier to breathe when their figure poked through the door, entering slowly. A cup of steaming tea rested in their hands. "You should be asleep, soldier." John said, leaning back in his seat. They gave a soft laugh and a nod, walking up to his desk. "Couldn't. Kept thinkin' bout you, knowing you were overworking yourself. Finally gave in and made you a cup of tea. With all due respect, sir, you should also be in bed." They answered, setting the cup on the desk. Like a godsend, able to sense his unspoken needs from across the base. He was a providing type, protective too, he'd been called a "dad" type as well, always caring for others. Although being cared for was foreign, he couldn't help but have his heart melt in a way he hadn't really felt in a very long time. The man sighed, grabbing the cup, blowing on it before he took a sip. He could feel his soul grow warm as he realized it was a perfect replica of how he'd make it, ideal to his preferences. It was impossible not to smile. "You're a real saint, you know that?" He asked. The room felt brighter as they laughed again. "I'm not sure about that, but thank you." They replied. "I mean it. You stick out your neck to make things easier for me, even when I don't ask. I notice it, even if I'd prefer you keep a bullet out of your leg." He scolded lightly, making them nervously shift their gaze to the side, recalling the shot they'd taken for him. "Eh, I don't really regret it." They said, moving around his desk in order to sit on the same side as him, remaining on the corner of the wooden table, careful to avoid sitting on any of the papers. John shook his head. "I'd probably take another eighty bullets for you." They answered honestly, ignoring the stutter in their heartbeat as he stood, chair scraping on the rug below. "Now why would you do that?" He questioned cynically. The response he got struck every chord in his heart. "Because I care about you too much to see you get hurt." They whispered. "You're such a good person, and you do so much for everyone else, even when you're at the end of your rope. There really aren't people like that in the world, and I don't think I could really handle losing something so rare." John inhaled and stepped in front of them. He was intently in their personal space, but they didn't feel the need to lean away, even if their nerves were alight with a specific type of anxiety as he tilted their chin with his hand. He didn't say anything for a long while, only gazing, adoringly and intensely full of passion. Finally, he smiled with an amused breath. "I think I hit the nail on the head..." He heard their breath catch when he leaned close enough for his facial hair to lightly prick at their skin. "You're nothin' short of a saint, sweetheart."

✧Johnny "Soap" MacTavish✧

The bar was crowded and rowdy, dimly lit and teeming with energy. 141 settled in a booth. The bar was popular with veterans and active soldiers, so there wasn't a corner of the building that didn't have some camo print in it. Johnny chuckled at a joke Gaz made at the expense of a recently defeated enemy before taking a swing of beer. He scanned the bar lazily. At the same time as others, cerulean eyes settled on a small scene in the crowd. Kyle leaned around Soap to get a better visual. "Yeesh, can't a man take a hint?" The man mumbled as they watched a tipsy soldier flirt with, what seemed like, a civilian. Dressed up for a night of fun but clearly not having a good time with a slurring and pushy man not being able to take a no. "Think we should step in?" Soap questioned, to which Ghost rose his hand, a signal to stay seated. "Look at their friends, they look like they're waiting for somethin'. Maybe they've got it covered already." He mumbled past the fabric of his balaclava. Johnny cringed, scrunching his nose at the scene, biting his tongue, literally. "They're a civilian against a trained soldier. Drunk or not, they probably need some help." Kyle commented. It was immediately after he finished his sentence that the "civilian" set their drink down, face showing annoyance. They turned to the drunkard and in quick, trained movements, took him out. Or in less intense terms, knocked him out cold with a swift elbow to the chest and a well formed punch to the jaw. The bar went quiet after a collective "oooohhh" in response to it all. The "civilian huffed and rested their hands on their hips, shaking their head. Soap's jaw was lax as he watched them walk over to the bar, pay, and leave. Left in utter awe intermingled with disappointment that he hadn't had a chance to talk to them. Up until a week later when a higher up declared he'd be gifting a lieutenant with an impressive track record to aid the task force in a mission. A huge help, since apparently they had specialized information. The four men waited for the mystery person right outside of base. When they walked up, they had a mask on, but a collective string of shock hit the men when they came closer. Gaz let out a little laugh and nudged Soap with his elbow. "Looks like you get to talk to them after all." He teased, watching Johnny fight to keep his jaw closed. They stopped in front of him with their arms crossed and face stern. "You lot must be 141. Lieutenant Fern." They said. Price stepped up calmly to introduce the team. Johnny cut him off, practically leaping forward with his hand extended to greet them. "Sergeant Soap, pleasure to meet'cha Lieutenant." He said with a boyish grin. They tilted their head with a raised eyebrow. "You always this excitable, sergeant?" They asked. Johnny's eyes glimmered with childlike fascination and liveliness. "Only with beauties like ya'self." He said boldly. They scoffed with some amusement, shaking his hand as they glanced at an embarrassed Price. "Bold, this one." They praised.

Soap grunted and slammed his hand on the floor twice, letting out a strained word. He took a deep breath when the pressure let off his neck, hearing a few tongue clicks. "That's the third take down, Soap. You gotta stop leaving yourself open." Fern sighed, giving him a hand up. He rubbed his neck and coughed, frustrated at himself for letting his performance slip. It was showing on his face and in his shoulders, weighing down by the sense of failure. "Oi, suds, quit that." They ordered, making him look up with confusion. They made a vague motion to his person, referring to his posture, before resting their hands on their hips. "The self-doubt and anger at yourself. It ain't gonna help ya. You're not bad at what you do, you're learning still. That's normal." They explained. Though their tone sounded blunt and rough, as usual, Johnny had been around them enough now to hear the hint of softness that lingered in their words. Something he had yet to hear before. He huffed and dropped his hand at his side. "I shouldn't be havin' these fuck ups, L.T. I been doin' this for too many years for fuck ups." Johnny let out a yelp and a whine as he received a flick to the bridge of his nose. "'nough of that, sergeant. What'd I just say?" Fern demanded with their gaze sharpened. They poked his chest to keep his attention. "You listen here, and you listen good because I won't be repeating myself. You're smart, and you're good at what you do. Fuck ups happen no matter how long you've been doin' something. You ain't perfect and I ain't expecting you to be. I expect you to be observant and open minded." They stated. Johnny's face softened and so did their tone. Fern sighed and shook his head. "Don't beat yourself up over shit that's fixable or that you can't control. Doing that won't help you, it'll just make you feel like shit. Enough of that will turn you into a stick in the mud." Their hand smacked on his shoulder, giving a reassuring squeeze. Soap felt his heart squeeze when they gave him a rare and small smile. "And I like you as the puppy dog you are, alright, soldier?" Johnny blinked before he snorted and nodded, taking their words to heart. "Good man. Now, c'mon. Let's go again. I'll go slower and correct your form and we'll get those slip ups worked out. On your mark." They ordered, gentler this time. Soap got into position with a grin and determination lit aflame once more. "On it, Lieutenant. Hit me." He challenged, burning with joy when they gave a fond chuckle.

Music and commotion filled the air with noise, adding a backdrop to a conversation that flooded in and out. Soap threw back some whiskey and cringed as it hit his taste buds. He coughed and set the cup down, shaking his head whilst the person across from him chuckled. "Not a whiskey type, suds?" They teased. He shook his head and slid the cup over, letting them take it and refill it. "I'll stick to my beer, thanks." Johnny replied with a huff. He pushed down the warmth in his face he got from watching them drink out of the same glass, mouth placed over where he'd just pressed his lips. Unintentional, most likely. He felt ridiculous being flustered over such a school-yard level of intimacy, and indirect kiss from sharing a glass was juvenile. He looked over their face, eyes settling on the signs of exhaustion in their expression. The Scotsman frowned and tapped the table a few times before he gave into his thoughts. "You ain't been sleeping, 'ave ya?" He asked. They looked up from following the patters of paint in the wall beside the two of them. Their silence was answer enough but the fact they shook their head sealed the deal. "Mind if I pry?" Soap asked, leaning in a bit more on his elbows. Fern shrugged and sank in their seat a bit, sighing. They rubbed their eye before regaining eye contact. "Different reasons. Old demons, mostly." They muttered. Johnny's brows dipped in sympathy. "You got a way of dealin' wit' that? Therapist?" He asked, sadness bubbling in his chest as they gave a humorless laugh and headshake. "Nah, I ain't gonna put my shit in someone else's hands. It's my problems, I should be able to deal with'em-" "Now that's a loada shit, L.T." Soap's voice cutting them off caught them by surprise. Johnny was a bold man, a loud man too, but he knew respect and knew when he needed to bite his tongue. He'd never really given an outburst at them. "Ain't you the one always tellin' me an' the team to speak up when we're in trouble?" He asked. They opened their mouth and shut it, unable to formulate a response. Their eyes softened when he reached over and rested his hand on top of their own. "Don't hesitate to ask for help. When you're out your depth, holdin' you pride too tight will get'cha killed. That's what you said." Fern blinked before a sad smile crossed their face. "Yeah...I did say that." They nodded, heart clenching as Johnny gave their hand a squeeze. "Then take your own advice, Y/N. Don't'cha owe yourself that?" He asked in a hushed tone. They bit the inside of their cheek and took his words to heart, nodding slowly with a slow exhale. "You're right. I'll keep that in mind...thank you, Johnny." They replied. He gave that sunshine filled grin in reply. "Ain't gotta thank me for that, L.T. But, you can buy me a drink if you wanna show your gratitude." He joked, feeling proud when it got them to laugh. "How's a tequila sound?" They asked. "After my 'eart, you are! I'll take three." Johnny responded with a grin.

(Implied wound) Soap grunted and leaned against a wall whilst holding his side. Pain shot through his nervous system with every movement. He huffed and thumped his head against the brick. His skin was growing clammy and moving his head too fast lead to his vision blurring, the dizziness was something that always got him the worst. He'd never been good with the sensation. It always felt him nauseous. The brunet groaned past gritted teeth as he tried to force himself to focus, will his brain to work despite the myriad of overloaded senses. His radio crackled with sound and a voice that was choppy thanks to the slightly cracked speaker. He let out a huff and rose his arm to click the button whilst trying to focus on the words, spoken by a familiar voice. "Soap? Soap, do you copy? C'mon mate, don't leave me hanging here." Fern asked with a hint of worry. The man grunted and that alone let the lieutenant take a sigh of relief. "You broken, serge?" They asked. Johnny swallowed in order to clear his throat. "Cracked, L.T. Took a hit to the side. Not sure of the damage but I ain't doin' so hot." He wheezed. Speaking brought on a coughing fit. He barely heard the order to stay put as his ears rung from the pain coughing caused. His vision was going spotty by the time he heard footsteps rapidly approaching. In his half focused state, he weakly tried to reach for his gun, only for a gloved hand to stop his arm. "It's me, Johnny." Fern's voice brought him a sense of relief. He leaned his head back to look at them, giving a weak smile. "'ey there, beautiful." He said, coughing again, which was followed by what could only be described as a whimper. Fern frowned as they checked his wound, using one hand to keep him steady. "Shit, Johnny. We need to get you to the evac right now. Can you stand?" They asked. He shook his head, slumping on their shoulder. He sighed, soothed by their body heat. "Just go on...I had a pretty good r-FUCKIN' CHRIST!" He screeched as they applied pressure to his wound. His face was grabbed sternly, forcing him to look them in the eye. Shock flooded his system as he saw saltwater building along their lower lid. "You listen here, you bloody fuckin' moron. You ain't allowed to die on me. Not until I fuckin' say so." They hissed. Soap blinked and opened his mouth to speak, letting out a noise of surprise when their lips collided with his. He let out a shaky breath whilst leaned into them, hand clutching a strap on their vest. Left tingling and energized by the action as they pulled away. "You pull all that fightin' spirit back in your fuckin' body and fight for me. Then, we get you out of here, we get you fixed up, and you owe me a fuckin' date. You got me, loverboy?" They demanded. The Scotsman heaved some breaths before he nodded. "I got'cha." He replied. Fern gave a single nod and stood up, pulling up the weakened soldier, getting under his arm to keep him steady. "Atta boy. Keep your head up, Johnny. I need you to keep your word." They said as they began helping him move. He gave a weak chuckled and a wheeze. "Roger that, L.T. Roger that."

✧Simon "Ghost" Riley✧

(Brief description of an NPC gettin' knifed in the face) The stairs creaked under Ghost's weight as he moved up behind Price. The man made a hand motion to move up more, which Ghost followed. "Stay steady, boys. Remember, not everyone in this place is a hostile." Price whispered gruffly, getting some affirmative responses. Ghost motioned for Soap to help him scan one side of the second floor, moving slowly through the rooms. Three hostiles were down in the span of two minutes. "Floor clear?" Gaz asked. "Affirmative." Soap replied, looking around. Just as Ghost was about to move out of the room, his eyes fell on a door he hadn't seen at first, with noise from behind it. "Negative. Unchecked room to the south." He motioned. The men rose their guns as Ghost moved toward it, carefully turning the door knob. He listened closely before swinging the door open quickly, locking in on a target almost instantly. They rose their hands with a yelp, an unidentified box in their hand. Ghost's finger twitched on the trigger before they spoke. "Friendly, don't shoot! Unarmed!" They declared, which made Price motion for the team to hold fire. "Name!" Ghost demanded. "Y/N L/N, call sign Blister. I'm a medic with S.A.S, and currently a hostage!" They said, voice sounding out of breath from the rush of adrenaline. Price clicked into the radio for Laswell for an identification as Ghost's eyes looked back at the box they held. Now he could see it was white with a red cross on it, as well as some faded stickers. He lowered his gun as Price confirmed they were telling the truth. Ghost motioned to the box and opened his mouth to demand they hand it over before they tensed, eyes locked on something right past him. "COVER!" They exclaimed. Shots ran past him, Gaz & Soap ducked. An enemy had snuck up behind them. About to reload before a white box flew and clocked them in the face, quickly followed by a throwing knife. As the body dropped limp, the men of 141 looked over with widened eyes as the medic let out a huff. "You said you were unarmed." Ghost replied gruffly, pushing past his feelings of shock. "One knife compared to four AK-12's is pretty much unarmed, big guy." Blister retorted. Ghost scoffed a small amused huff with a nod. "Fair point and good aim." He praised, watching them smile slightly. Price snapped his fingers to get their attention. "Need a gun?" He asked, to which Blister nodded. Ghost took his pistol out and handed it over, though he jerked it from their grasp at the last second with a warning look. "I better not regret givin' you this." He threatened, slowly holding it out again. They took it from his palm slowly, fingertips brushing against his gloves. "Relax, big guy. Only grief I plan to give is to the enemy." They said, checking the ammo clip before putting the gun in their pocket. Price motioned for them to move, stay low. Ghost was sure to trail the medic closely from behind. Unaware that it'd be soon that a higher up would decide that 141 needed a medic, and who better than one with perfect aim?

"Bit late to be up, ain't it?" The voice from behind him made him tense and nearly choke on the smoke in his mouth. Ghost looked over his shoulder as he exhaled the vaporized tabaco, pulling his mask back down once it was expelled completely. He watched Blister meander up to him, highlighted by the color of the moon. "Could ask you the same thing, medic." He replied. They snorted as they came to stand beside him. "Fair point, Lieutenant, fair point." They nodded, tilting their head to look up at the sky. The air was cold and the roof was quiet, below their feet were sleeping soldiers, unaware of the bright moon and twinkling stars. Blister tilted their head as their shoulders fell lax, something Ghost noticed. They never seemed tense and he couldn't fathom it when he couldn't ever relax, even when he was alone his muscles were tight, ready for fight-or-flight at all times. "You're staring, sir." They whispered, looking at him in their peripheral. Ghost scoffed and looked at the sky. "Was not." He denied, hearing them snicker. Silence passed between them before the medic noted Ghost's posture, just like he'd done to them. "You ever gonna let your shoulders relax? Your muscles' are gonna snap under that hypertension, sir." The blond clicked his tongue and shook his head. "These are as relaxed as they're gonna get, medic." He answered. "Because you're burning off constant anxiety?" Their response hit him a bit hard and he snapped his head to look at them. They stood with all their weight shifted to one leg, head tilted. "You don't hide it real well, ya know. All that unease. I know it ain't my place to pry, but I want you to know I can see it." Y/N said softly. Ghost let out an exhale from his nose. "And so what if you do? You're on thin ice, Blister." He warned, getting a headshake in reply. "I'm saying I see it so you know you're not invisible to me." He scoffed, crossing his arms after tossing the put out cigarette off the edge of the roof. The moonlight bounced off his irises, providing superficial light to replace the one that'd been missing since he was young. "Hard to miss me. I'm a "big guy in a Halloween mask", aren't I?" He said, using air quotes. They clicked their tongue. Ghost tensed and looked at them once more as their hand rested on his arm. "What I meant is; I see when you're struggling. And I'm here for you when it gets a bit too heavy. Whether you like it or not. I'm stick to ya, like a superglued plaster, sir." They patted his bicep and gave a kind smile. "Come see me sometime, you don't have to be injured to talk to me. My door's always open." Their words hung in the air as they walked away, and Simon couldn't help but pivot to watch them leave. When they disappeared off the roof, he cursed under his breath, feeling his chest clench and a pressure in the back of his throat. He looked up at the stars with weakness in the circles of his pupils. "...fuckin' help me ma, I'm screwed." He whispered into the night air, watching a star blink back at him.

(Ghostie gets a panic attack but it's still fluffy) Ghost let out a shaky sigh as pins and needles made themselves at home in his extremities. His veins buzzed with anxious energy and his hands had begun to shake slightly. His breathing wasn't erratic yet, but he knew it wasn't long before it would be. He bounced his leg and weighed his options before he stood up, chair squeaking along the floor at the speed of which he did. His footsteps were quick and heavier than usual as he rushed down the halls and toward med-bay. It never made sense to him, why he'd be perfectly fine and then suddenly be hit with sense of panic. Like there was a guillotine hanging over his neck that he couldn't see, but he knew the blade would drop at any second. The med-bay was empty of anyone, except for one person, organizing a new shipment of bandages. Blister heard the door click shut and the ragged breathing. They looked over their shoulder, surprised at first to see Ghost. They went to greet him before noticing all the signs of something they'd seen a million times. Twitchy, anxious, unable to breathe clearly, trembling hands. Without him saying a word, they pulled out a chair and motioned to it. "Sit." They demanded. Simon wasn't one for listening to other's orders if he didn't have to, but he did it, bouncing his leg. Y/N walked over to the water cooler and then a mini fridge, pulling out an ice pack. They walked over with it in hand, along with a tiny cup of water. Y/N placed it on his chest and motioned for him to hold it there. "Simon, look at me." They instructed in a soft voice. "I need you to try and take a deep breath. I know that's not easy, but try your best." He felt them lift his balaclava just far enough to rest over his nose, making it easier to breathe. "Can't you just shoot me up wit' somethin'?" He gasped. "I'd rather not if I can help it. Do you know what's happening right now?" They asked as he took the cup, tossing back the cold water. He shook his head. "This is a panic attack, Si. I'm gonna walk you through it, you just gotta do your best to breathe and focus on me." He didn't have much choice. They took his free hand and sat in front of him, looking him in the eye. "Follow with me. Give me five things you see." Simon swallowed and scanned. "Uh...peeling paint, cracked window, fire hydrant, ugly tile, broken light." He answered. They nodded and squeezed his hand soothingly. "Four things you feel." He took a deep breath. "Your hand, the seam of my jeans, ice pack, my itchy ass stubble." That got a little amused huff out of the medic. "Very good, you're doing great. Now, three things you can hear." Their praise was more comforting than he liked to admit. "My heartbeat, the clock on the wall...your voice." He whispered. They gave him a gentle smile and another squeeze to his hand. "Two things you smell." Simon took a deep breath through his nose and noted what came with it. "Sanitizer and somethin' fruity." He mumbled. "That'd be me. Now, last one. Take a deep breath and then tell me something you taste." They asked. Simon did as he was told, it felt easier now, less like his lungs were collapsing. "Mmph, tea. Bad tea, let the bag sit for too long." He complained. Blister chuckled and stood up, taking the ice pack from him and putting it on the table. They rested their hands on his shoulders, lightly pressing into them as they told him to take some more deep breaths. Once his breathing was steady again, he sighed and blinked slowly. "You alright?" They asked. Simon nodded, though he felt tired now. "You're...a real good medic." He muttered, feeling warm as they snorted cutely. "Thanks, big guy. I do my best."

(Reference to Ghost's poor self image & a singular mention of a wound) Ghost sat in an unmarked van with his back against one of the doors, watching Blister rummage around in hopes of finding medical supplies. His eyes drifted down to his leg, a broken pipe ran through his thigh. It hurt like hell and based on the annoyed growl the medic let out whilst throwing away another useless box, there wasn't anything they could do to help at the moment. Their radios overlapped with the sound of Price's words, informing them about the evac on the way, and how they'd ensure to send the help needed to get Ghost out of there safely. Said man shook his head as Y/N replied to their captain. "Just go. I'll slow ya down, it ain't worth it." He grumbled, wincing as he attempted to move his leg again. "Shut your fucking mouth, lieutenant." Blister hissed back. The man blinked in surprise at their response. They rarely snapped, not unless they were in the midst of battle. "Damnit, medic, don't be stubborn right now. Just fucking go, leave me here. That's an order-" "God damnit, Simon, shut your fucking mouth!" Ghost flinched at their shouting, now even more caught off guard. He watched them stand, walking a few steps to sit between his thighs. They gripped his vest roughly, eyes sharp like daggers and their nose scrunched in anger, teeth clenched tightly. They pointed a finger in his face while breathing heavily. "Now you listen and you listen good, I am not fucking leaving you hear. I am not leaving you anywhere, you understand? We are gonna get you in that fucking evac." They insisted. Ghost rolled his eyes at their declaration. "I am a liability, Blister!" They jostled him roughly. "You are fucking important to me, Simon! Your survival fucking matters to me, and until you stop breathing I am going to ensure I do everything in my power to keep you alive. And not just because it's my fucking job, but because I give a shit!" They shouted. Simon's chest felt tight again. His hands trembled so he curled them into tight fists to hide it. He felt like a kid again, weak and vulnerable. Something he despised. "Why?" He whispered past clenched teeth. He watched their gaze soften and their grip on him loosened, leaving their hand resting on his chest. "Because I care about you, but I know you don't care about yourself. But whether you like it or not, I give a shit whether you live or die. And one day, even if it takes my entire god damn life, I will get you to the day you can look in the mirror and love what you see. In and out. In order to do that, I need you alive. I need you alive to see the great man I see every day, o you're gonna get in that fucking evac, we're gonna get you patched up, and you're gonna live." Their voice shook and he watched their bottom lip shake slightly. Simon shuddered under the weight of their words. "Do you copy?" They asked. He stared at them, unable to find any hints of deception. They meant every word. Simon bit his lower lip and inhaled slowly. "...yeah, I copy."

#call of duty x y/n #call of duty x reader #call of duty #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #gaz cod #captain john price #john price x reader #john price #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #mw2 x reader #team 141

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pastadoughie · 2 months

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i made anothr long rant abt sexism oh noooooo

so many people fundimentally do not understand terf ideology, and end up falling deeper and deeper into it because they think they are "immune" to it.

the fundimental feature of radfem ideology is sexism. or more specifically misandry. sexism by its very nature effects both genders, having a negative veiw of women fundimentally recontextualizes how you see men, if you see women as broadly less compatent, less intelegent, and therefore having less angency (dispite literally none of that being true) then you naturally veiw men as the opposite. thats just a core part of how sexism works. mysogeny and misandry are always gonna appear together. while you can just use the word sexism for all instances then, as that is more accurate in that it doesnt carry the implication that only one gender experiences negative effects from sexism, i think that having words like mysogeny and misandry are still useful. assuming you use them to mean 'ok im talking about sexism witch does effect both men and women, but im talking about just one gender to help make my point clearer' not having to bury yourself in asterisks is nice.

this does however mean that people can exploit this not explicitly stated part of the definition to pretend that misandry just doesnt exist. and i have gotten into many a very very annoying argument from people who just refuse to listen to my actual points and instead want to argue semantic differences about the words i use even when i explicitly state what i mean and their definitions. many people just refuse to use the word misandry entirely and just describe it as "mysogeny rebounding" or something of the sort. this is not only stupid and unhelpful, but also kinda sexist! a fundimental part of sexism is that it effects everyone, pointing out that misandry effects women too isnt groundbreaking stuff! thats how sexism works! women dont just exist in a void ok it is literally impossible to hate women and then be completely neutral about men that can not exist. if you want to speak about sexism but specifically talk about womens issues and experiences with it then thats fine and helpful! but you need to have the same thing for men. just like with mysogeny, being misandrist is going to make you a mysogenist as well, you maybe just word your sexist statements a little differently if youre coming from that angle, but you arrive in the same spot.

and because this is the piss on the poor website i should clarify that, no i am not saying that men experience the exact same issues in the exact same way as women, you will find that no where in this post! that is not my arguement.

feminism is important but if your goal is not gender equality but just to have it be in the opposite direction then that is! still sexism! and still bad!

to make my stance on this clear before i start… women are people, men are people, one is not more or less responsible, intelegent, phisically capable, or worthy of respect then the other. people should be paid fairly according to their skill level, products should be priced according to their value and not according to what gender stereotype they are meant to appeal to, sports should be based on skill level, and not on appearance or legal documents, persecution for crimes should be based on what actually happened, and not on the genders of the perpetrators or victims, and people should not be expected to act or dress a certain way based on what they looked like as a baby.

gender based descrimination is fundimentally illogical and extremely frustrating and horrific to have to experience, having to deal with mysogeny myself i am not somehow ignorant of this. given the magnitude of the issue this leads to alot of people lashing out and becomeing more and more radical. when you have so much of your life spent having people telling you you need to conform to "what men want" and seeing male peers be treated better in certain areas for no reason, youre gonna get a little bitter. when you view everybody as saying men are great and can do no wrong (witch people often do) then saying "well i fucking hate men" feels liberating. you start to get more bitter about it. you have to deal with so much shit for something you have no control over and men dont share your exact experience. its a classic case of trauma olympics where you start to veiw other peoples struggles as less valid and less worthwhile because of the shit youve had to go through.

this kind of emotional response is pretty understandable, but it is not a helpful or productive veiwpoint, sexism is frustrating. yes. but being sexist twards men doesnt help that!

this kind of response makes it really easy to tunnel vision on only the girl side of things. women face alot of sexual and domestic abuse, this is horrific and people have been desperately trying to help and spread awareness (though given the seriousness regardless of how much help there is its still horrible that it happens at all) men can often be violent or disregard womens consent even in non romantic/sexual circumstances, witch leads to a (sometimes warrented) level of distrust of people based on gender, though this is an issue with socialization differences between genders and not actually biological traits.

but theres a flip side to this. gender based socialization plays a big role in how alot of us behave and so, the same crime, for example sexual assault, can present differently depending on the socialization of the person. sexual abuse from a dude is broadly gonna be more violent, while with women its generally long term abuse, and alot more emotional, and when phisical less likely to be "severe" injuries.

agencies dedicated to helping in abusive situations, most of the time dont even consider emotional abuse. this means that its going to be biased to persecute men more, as abuse from women presents differently. systems designed to help with these things are pretty much only geared twards helping women, and to help in cases that align more with "male" patterns of abuse.

also, sexual abuse from women is far far more normalized, ive seen and experienced this myself, where, attention from older men to a young girl is seen as creepy and gross no matter how nonsexual the interaction is, but i have had older women grope me as a child, and nobody bats an eye, often seen as being a "cute" interaction and "just girls being girls!" ive noticed far far more pedophilic tendancies in older women then i ever have in men, as straight women from this demographic tend to expect young girls to be overly comfortable with them, thinking they have a "right" to little girls personal lives and bodies.

when it comes to the structure of organizations centered around abuse alot of people will argue with statistics that men are more likely to commit these crimes and therefore its completely sensible to prioritize an approach that works on that kind of abuse, and id argue this is unfair. this is like expecting accurate statistics on homosexuality from the 80s, there are a million reasons for people to lie on something like that. and moreover, if youve been sexually abused by a woman, not only are you unlikely to share that, but unlikely to properly report it, and extrordinarily unlikely to get any kind of action done for it, and extremely extremely extremely unlikely to have it actually be a punishment fitting for what happened.

moreover, women being seen as "weaker" in general then men means that within assault and abuse cases with a female perpetrator theres alot of shame there, youre seen as "not a real man" if you get sexually assaulted, its seen as a judgement against you, if you would even allow that to happen then you must have deserved it

+ alot of the time, in radfem ideology men are painted as little pervert sexual devients, witch makes talking about sexual abuse twards men really difficult because by the nature of your gender youre expected to "like it" or because of the fact that mysogeny exists at all its seen as "karma" for being a dude, regardless of the fact that one guy in an abusive relationship does not hold the responsibility of all womens rights issues on his shoulders (and argueing that anybody under any circumstance deserves sexual assault is horrific)

women are people, and people can be absolutely horrific. its unfortunately common to see women weaponizing mysogeny, the idea that they are fundimentally less capable and less responsible for their actions, to get disproportionitely less persecution.

these kinds of posts, and the idology they peddle its not just, silly tumblr nonsense, this has caused real, tangible, horrific damage to my (and many other peoples) lives,, and people just regurgitate it because is just so quirky to peddle blatent sexism.

and it doesnt even end there, veiwing people like this, thinking that people have some kind of biological flaws or superiority just naturally leads you to transphobia, this is why terfs are terfs, if youre a misandrist its just kinda the next logical step to hate trans people.

if you veiw men as awful evil penis havers who are, by their very nature, more violent and less trustworthy, then thats going to fundimentally recontextualize how you see trans women, you are not immune to being a terf because you post about girlcock or whatever, terfism including transphobia is a symtom of their sexism. and if you really want trans people to feel safe around you you cannot keep peddaling this shit! "men (or amab people) are biologically more violent" and "trans women are women (and all the gender stereotypes being a woman entails)" are fundimentally conflicting and odds are, youre gonna pick the one thats more violent and hateful, because the internet is about being angry, and there is nothing the internet likes being angry about more then trans women

also its worth nothing that quote en quote "trans inclusive" radfems exist, and they are going to exploit this idea that you are immune to right wing bullshit to push you further and further into the cesspit

you can go onto these blogs and you can find things you agree with, i think yea that the way we veiw gender is really shitty, i think mysogeny is bad and people need to be more aware of it, but then you start, agreeing with the more and more and more unhinged shit till ur straight up posting hatespeech

i cannot stress enough that this is. real shit, i want you to not be a transphobe! but theres only so much i can spoon feed you and you have to put on your big boy pants on at some point and start actually having your brain on when youre reblogging quirky tumblr posts about how hating men is such a cool opinion that does not impact anybody negatively at alllll

#the beast speaks #retchid opinions #this is kinda incoherent sorry #i needto get the words out of my brain so i can stop thinking abt them

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eureka-its-zico · 7 months

Text

Violent Delights

Summary: On a trip with your father to Shanghai, your caravan is overrun. You are taken back to a compound of one of the most ruthless Mafia bosses in all of China: Enishi Yukishiro. Who was in need of a new plaything.

Pairing: Enishi Yukishiro x f!reader

Words: 3.3k

A/N: I apologize in advance for the filth. This is literally 99.9% smut and 1% filth. I blame @pauking5 for indulging me too much with wanting to write Enishi. But also the minute she told me she couldn't find too many reader insert fics for him my body felt COMPELLED to make this for her so....I hope you enjoy this filth I made you lol. I’m like sorry, but not? Because he doesn’t give me cute smiles and rainbow vibes. He gives me spit in my mouth and make me call you daddy vibes. I hope someone out there enjoys the filth. 🖤 Much love, Jenn

Warnings: This shit is dark besties. It’s dark. Mentions of kidnapping. Dubious consent. Mafia trope. Knife play. Harem. Mentions of violence. Fingering. Its Smut. It's Filth. Please do not read if you are not 18+ (If I miss anything please let me know).

The smell of sex was beginning to overpower the room. The sounds of her moans grew louder and out of control. It was the wet sound of him thrusting into her, his hands keeping her steady as his hips pistoned into her.

She was only growing louder with each thrust and you hated it. You wished she would shut up. That he would find a new toy to torment in the seclusion of the prison that was his bedroom. It’s been three whole days since he and his men had descended on your father's caravan. Three days of being housed inside this room and unable to leave it.

Like the previous nights before, he’d stationed you in different areas of the room. Areas that allowed you to perfectly see - to watch - as one of his concubines rode him. While he fucked them into an oblivion that left them dazed and unable to walk by the time he finished.

Tonight, Enishi forced you to sit at the edge of his bed while he’d chosen to fuck one of the many girls in the chair he sat in now. You could still remember when she first walked in the door - the way he’d laid her over the intricate table that sat in between the two chairs in the bedroom, lifting her skirts to expose her to the room. To you. The lewd noises that followed as he licked and sucked at her cunt caused her to practically howl his name as she came.

Enishi.

The nice one - you’d forgotten her name - explained the best she could through the language barrier that they were concubines.

You’d heard of tales from your father and mother when they’d come back from their grand adventures about women like this. Kingdoms where the kings got to have their wives and children and women just like her on the side. Women who did whatever was sexually asked of them and took whatever the man did because it was their duty. Deemed only for the pleasure they could bring and not conversation or substance.

Just their body. Just their cunt.

You could feel your cheeks burning as you focused on the edges of your dirty dress. You tried counting the frayed edges of one side that had torn when they’d ripped you from the carriage. The mud that had smeared on one side where you’d been dragged had completely dried and now began to flake. You ran your fingers over the dried dirt and watched it turn into sand with each rub of your finger.

It would’ve been a solid distraction if the sudden octave from the concubine hadn’t increased. If she didn’t shout in surprise that left you involuntarily turning to make sure she was alright.

Of course, she was alright. Enishi had simply changed positions. He’d moved her to be face down against the same round table from earlier, but now her hips were angled up to take each punishing thrust that he gave her. The sound of skin on skin filling the room back up at a punishing speed.

It wasn’t the sight really that made a heat wave start across your skin that threatened to burst from your chest from sheer embarrassment. It wasn’t the angle he had her in either.

Enishi was looking at you.

Dark brown eyes bore into you as he held the concubine's arms back behind her. His body pinned her to the edge of the table so she had nowhere to run. Just like you. He continued to watch you as she came; her walls squeezing him as she struggled to get away from him as he continued to fuck her.

You refused to look at him or acknowledge him at all. What you hated the most was that you already knew what he was planning to do.

The first time he’d done this was two days prior. The first day you’d been kidnapped and held at his compound. He’d fucked two girls that night and you’d been more than impressed at his stamina. You’d tried to look away from him. He was your father's killer, for Christ's sake, and yet…

He was all tight corded muscle and shamelessly walked around the room naked and exposed. The first time you’d seen his cock it had been slick and wet from recent sex with one of the girls. His cock was still hard and had an enticing vein that ran down its side, begging for you to look. Enishi had a good length but what replayed in your mind was how thick he was. Insanely thick is what you shamelessly remembered and you hated how your body reacted as you shamefully rubbed your legs together to get some form of friction.

The second day was when he’d noticed it. The way your legs moved under all that fabric of the skirts of your dress desperate for friction to ease the ache that had started at your core. With each snap of his hips and the cry of pleasure that came from one of the girls it sent you spiraling. You hated it. Felt betrayed by your own body.

After he’d finished and sent the girls back to their room he casually came over to the chair he’d forced you to sit in. The same one he’d been in tonight. You tried to ignore him as he came over in nothing but a robe with the front still leaving him exposed. Your mind was worried about so many different possibilities of what he might do to you, that you never expected him to grab you by the throat and force you back into the chair. His feet kick your legs wide apart.

Enishi controlled you easily. The way he applied just enough pressure to arch your back until you looked at the ceiling. His deep baritone resonated over your skin in his native tongue. You couldn’t tell what he was saying and had no way of knowing what it was. You just knew whatever he said as he lifted your skirts, was filthy.

His knees kept your legs open enough that his free hand made its way through your undergarments to touch your wet cunt. You could still remember the devilish smirk that stretched across his lips as he continued to speak to you.

Was he calling you a good girl or something or worse maybe? He could’ve been calling you his little slut for all you knew or even hinting that you liked it; like watching him devour the women he brought to his bed. Something nowhere near endearing and more centered around stripping you of every last ounce of what dignity you had left. You struggled to fight against him. To break free and do…what?

Even if you somehow magically removed his hand from your throat and got away you had nowhere to go. Just outside the door of his bedroom were an endless number of guards. They would easily stop you and bring you back.

Those same nimble fingers that touched at the edge of your cunt now moved between your folds. A soft whimper left your throat that you wish you would have swallowed back down. The pads of calloused fingers grazing your swollen clit wasn’t enough friction for release, but it was enough to bring your desire flaring up.

Enishi pulled his hand back from you to find it covered in your juices. You watched as he played with it, his fingers scissoring to make a slow string appear. It was lewd. Vile. Yet you couldn’t tear your eyes away. Your heart now thundering for another reason as you watched him take your body’s betrayal between his lips and suck his fingers clean.

Like clockwork, you heard him pull out. The lack of sound of skin on skin made the room achingly quiet. His words were sharp, demanding, and harsh as he took her by the head and pushed her towards his cock. His hand fisted it as he pulled long hard jerks leaving strings of come to lace over her waiting tongue - with his eyes glued to you.

You fought not to shiver or let your hands curl in your lap as your heart hammered in your chest.

Steady breathing. Deep…steady…breaths…

You faintly heard him dismiss her. Your eyes catch her hurrying back into her kimono and tying it sloppily. However, the look Enishi was giving her was enough to inform her plainly her usefulness was over.

You’d seen what he could do that day he tore your world apart. The finesse he carried shattering bones and the ease of snuffing out life. You’d seen it in the way he handled some of the women he brought to his bed. All it took was one wrong move - word - and their moans turned to sharp whimpers before they were dismissed.

There wasn’t any denying that Enishi was a man possessed by the devil and full of rage. He was terrifying, but also…

The sound of the door slamming shut behind the concubine brought you back to the room. Your heart was beginning to race as you realized you’d zoned out, leaving yourself unprepared for whatever was about to happen. A majority of the time he left you alone. He’d stare at you or move around you like you weren’t even in his room, except yesterday was different.

Today felt different.

Enishi wasn’t anywhere near you, however, and you felt yourself breathe easier. Maybe you would get lucky and he would go back to treating you like a nuisance trapped inside his room. A nuisance he created.

He was standing next to his desk and it only took a flick of your eyes to know he wasn’t dressed. He was still naked. It only meant one thing. Suddenly, you were confident to try and run away from this room - from him. The alarm in your head only grew louder as he poured himself a drink from the whiskey canter and set it back on the desk.

He’d started talking and you weren’t sure if it was at you or to you. It was growing increasingly difficult to not grow more frustrated at the language barrier between you. The only good thing was spitting and the middle finger was a universal “fuck you” from the universe.

You dared to spare a look up from where you sat on his bed. It was then you saw the wakizashi in his hand. The sheath missing and the blade glinted angrily in the light. Your mouth was suddenly dry, and you couldn’t stop yourself from trying to retreat. Your hands flew back on the soft sheets to try and pull you away; desperate to get some space.

In one swift motion, Enishi tipped what was left in his glass into his mouth and launched it against the wall. The glass shattered immediately on impact and sent sharp fragments flying across the room with one scratching across your face. You screamed as you felt the sting of the air as it entered the fresh cut. You were concerned about whether you would crawl back into the glass when a hand wrapped around your bare ankle and tugged.

A fresh scream rose in your throat and just as you were about to release it, the wakizashi was pressed tightly against your throat. It was close enough that if you swallowed too hard you might just get cut. Enishi pulled you back down to the bed with your legs spread to make room for him. The duvet that had bunched at the end from your struggle was the only thing that saved you from feeling his cock pressed against you.

Enishi waited until he had your ass barely on the edge of the bed, the rest hanging off and controlled by his waist. This was the closest you’d ever been to him. Your eyes hungrily took in the sight of the muscles in his stomach and the definition in his chest. The veins in his arms that shamelessly matched the veins in his cock.

Enishi was raw power and if it wasn’t for the fact he had the wakizashi to your throat maybe you would’ve appreciated him more. What were you even thinking? This was the man who’d set your whole world on fire. Kidnapped you and left you a prisoner in a foreign land and at his mercy.

A fire of rage lit up inside you and you no longer cared about being complacent. Safe. You wanted to tear him apart. Enishi noticed the change because a wry smile of a challenge lit up his face and when you went to move away from him, your hands clawing at his chest, he easily grabbed your arms and pressed them down. He did the same with the blade of the wakizashi and you felt the first warm trickles of blood slide down the side of your throat.

He leaned forward until your faces were almost touching. His eyes peeked out from the blades of his air like a tiger in the grass. The richness of his voice smoked across your skin. All words you couldn’t understand, but the body language you could.

He would kill you if you did it again. You were kept alive on the whim of entertainment for him. You wanted to spit at him. Tell him to fuck off just to see if he would do it. Death had to be better than this.

The train of reasoning and fury came to an end when you felt the first traces of his fingers at your entrance. Panic flooded you while you realized he’d worked the skirts of your dress up leaving you exposed to the room - to him.

“No.”

It came out rushed and through your nose. You tried to pull your arms free from under the forearm that held them, blade at your throat be damned, but Enishi was a mountain of strength and you had none left. You were still wet and you hated the way it made you seem wanton.

Enishi mumbled one last thing before you felt two fingers push their way inside you. The reaction he received was instant. A moan sharp and wild burst from your mouth and enveloped the room. The sound was all the permission Enishi needed to start thrusting his fingers in and out of your cunt.

You wanted to tell him to stop - to tell yourself that you didn’t want this as Enishi buried his fingers knuckle deep over and over. His fingers curved upwards deliciously and you found your back arching against the sheets. A fresh sting from the blade carving across your skin as one hand grabs at his forearm and the other bunch in the sheets.

God, you hated the way you were coming undone for him. The way your cunt tightened hungrily around his fingers to pull him in deeper in hopes of feeling fuller. The only way that would happen would be to feel the delicious stretch only his cock could provide. You wouldn’t go there. Wouldn’t allow this monster anymore of your body.

With the hand on his forearm, you tried to make him stop and only succeeded in feeling the muscles work below the skin with each thrust from his wrist.

Slowly, he removed the wakizashi from your neck and drew the blade across your collarbone. Even lower it continued until you heard the sound of fabric ripping as it was sliced open. Enishi timed each shred into the fabric with each pump from his wrist. When he finished the whole front of your dress - the last of the life you’d owned - was bared open exposing your breasts to him.

One minute the blade was there then gone and replaced with the rough pads of his hand as they groped each breast. His fingers took the raised buds between calloused fingers that gently pinched.

Your body reacted to every touch of his hand on your skin and the demands it placed on it. Your hips were now moving in a desperate rhythm to meet his fingers. Your hand still locked on his forearm while the sheet was fisted in your hands. The duvet cradling around your head and practically smothering you as a throaty moan of, “Fuck,” came from you. You tried to smother it inside the duvet, refusing to let him hear just how good you felt with his fingers knuckle deep inside you.

You pulled the duvet closer with your head turning to greet the soft fabric when it was ripped painfully out of your hand. The hand that had been at your breasts now was at your face squeezing it hard and forcing you to look at him.

Enishi growled something - you could only assume it dealt with ownership. Whatever sounds you made belong to him and for him alone because as he spoke his thumb pressed down against your clit and rubbed in circles as the pace between your thighs grew brutal. The stimulation tore a moan from you instantly and you tried to pull your face away but Enishi held tight forcing you to fall apart as he watched.

With the dual stimulation, it didn’t take long for your orgasm to build. Your walls fluttered around his fingers as your breathing became labored.

Again, he spoke to you. His voice caresses along your skin like an extension of his hands. His thumb flicked up on your clit and he released his hold on your face allowing it to fall back on the pillows. This time you didn’t try and cover all the sounds he fucked out of you with his fingers.

Just as your orgasm was about to crest Enishi brought his mouth down against his breast and bit down. His teeth tearing into the soft flesh turning your panting moans into a scream. Suddenly, your orgasm hit you with a violent intensity. The feeling of you gushing all over his hand - his bed - made your body feel euphoric as your orgasm rolled through you but the violence of his teeth imprinting against the tender flesh of your breast edged it towards pain.

You knew he was marking you on purpose. One part because he could and the other because you were property - his property.

When the aftershocks of your orgasm began to fade you were greeted with pain. Enishi pulled his mouth away from your breast and a wicked smile beamed down to greet you- a tint of your blood staining his lips. Again he spoke to you and again you wished you knew either the Japanese he spoke or the Cantonese he used whenever he spoke to most of the men who entered his office. You wish you could tell him how much you hated him and that he could claim you like this as many times as he wanted, but that hatred would never dull or fade.

He must have seen it on your face because that smile spread into laughter as he pulled away from you. He was still completely nude and uncaring as he grabbed a towel and tossed it in your direction. Enishi gave you one last look before his bare feet padded towards the bathroom.

You’d been dismissed. Just another toy he proved to himself he could have in the many at his disposal. You tried to remain calm as you sat up at the edge of the bed. Your hands shook uncontrollably as you took the towel he’d tossed and began to clean up what you could.

The front of your dress was completely ruined. You weren’t even able to fold it over you. Fresh tears sprang to your eyes as you realized you had nothing left and maybe that was how Enishi wanted it. No family to come looking for you. Lost in a foreign land and kidnapped by the head of a criminal organization. He would take what he wanted because you weren’t strong enough to fight him or deny him. And maybe Enishi’s goal all along was to make the only person you could depend on be him.

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As always, thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated.

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#Violent Delights #enishi yukishiro #enishi yukishiro x reader #enishi yukishiro x you #enishi x reader #enishi x you #rurouni kenshin #mackenyu #enishi yukishiro smut #enishi yukishiro fanfiction #dubious consent #smut smut smut #99% smut and 1% filth

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