#I think. I have more but this is enough for now
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asymmetryestablished ¡ 3 days ago
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apropos of nothing in particular: hey folks who haven't been following me since 2017, check out the first art that ever grabbed me by the throat and demanded I write a fic about it
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When Wash is feeling anxious/paranoid (which happens often and for various reasons), and they’re not actually in any danger yet, Tucker kinda casually holds the back of his neck, conveniently right over the mess of the implant site, just keeps his hand there. It sorta helps Wash feel a little safer.
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theorist-fox ¡ 24 hours ago
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Some more insecure Simon Riley talk, because he's precious.
18+
Word count: 1.4k
CW: nothing, just smut. Simon finds you in lingerie and has a stroke. I love him your honor.
Masterlist 🦊
𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬
Simon, who is not sure what to do with himself the first time you welcome him home in nothing but lingerie.
He’s so unbelievably tired, dropping his clothes on the floor of the bedroom without even lifting his head. Mumbling apologies to you—how he’ll clean tomorrow, how he just wants to go to bed and sleep fourteen hours straight, right now. Bonus points if you hold him through the night, too.
Yet you’re not replying, but he’s seen your silhouette in the darkness; he knows you’re awake because you whispered a soft “Welcome back” when he walked in the room. His heart pounds in his chest, his palms get clammy—he thinks he’s overstepping lines by not giving you the attention he thinks you deserve.
So, as he unzips his pants, he lifts his eyes to look at you, and fuck—
You’re lying on your side, propped on your elbow, chin tucked in your palm. Perfect tits covered in sheer fabric, burgundy and black, your nipples peeking through. The soft line of your waist is bare—he follows it with his eyes until they land on your hips. Ornated lace curves around your hipbone and thins into see-through, dark fabric over your mound. Two strips of silk clasp your knickers to a pair of thin stockings that cinch the fat of your thighs, and the sight makes his mouth water.
“Welcome back,” you say once again, this time with soft amusement.
He looks like a proper idiot. Hand still on his crotch, practically feeling how his cock comes to a stand at the mere sight of you.
He gulps. Feels a little lightheaded. “F’ me?”
You smile, chuckling softly but not derisively. Simon follows your hand as you guide it over your belly, up to the valley of your breast, as if you’re there, showing the goods he can pick and taste.
“For you.”
Simon is stunned into silence again.
Fuck is he supposed to do, uh? He’d be content just looking at you lying there and looking like you came out of a magazine, instead of touching you and potentially ruining what you did just for—for him?
He must not have noticed how his whole body (aside from his cock) has gone into standby—entered sniper mode. He's quiet, breaths reduced and silent, eyes attentive and narrowed.
It's a handful of seconds that leave you uncomfortable, as your plastic pose softens, your smile faltering at the corners.
“You don’t like it?” You ask, trying to sound steady, but he picks up the nervousness in your tone right away.
He won’t let you have it, obviously. He snaps out of it and takes you in for what you are: a fucking present, on his bed, wrapped in strings and bows and lace like gift wrap.
“Shoulda guessed it was too much, maybe. Should’ve gone for somethin’ soft—"
Simon is on you in seconds. Grabs your face in his hands and smashes his lips to yours something fierce, nothing like you’ve ever experienced before. No hesitation. Simple, tangible desire. Scorching lust. Want. Need—fuck, he’s never kissed you like this.
Your eyes lose their surprise, and they slowly surrender to him—hands wandering down to help him out of his pants and briefs. And then you wrap your arms around his neck, grazing his scalp with your nails until he shivers.
Simon thought there was nothing comparable to the softness of your skin against the harder patches of scars freckling his abdomen. But he’s proved wrong when he feels the rough texture of your lace scratch his chest and his hips—it has him leaking embarrassingly quick.
He’s all lips and tongue as he races down your chest, sloppy kisses leaving a burning trail between your tits, down your belly, settling on your cunt covered by thin mesh.
Simon looks up at you, holding your thighs between thick fingers, smushing them against his cheeks. His eyes are hooded, dark, different. He tilts his head and bites into the plump flesh within reach—not enough to hurt, but sure enough to taste. Mercifully passes his tongue over the teeth marks before biting into it again, until the sting has you arching your back off the bed.
And he never breaks eye contact, which leaves you dumbfounded and flustered to the bone—because where is this confidence coming from? You’re wide-eyed and biting your own teeth in anticipation—this is all new and all the more exciting.
His kisses travel from the lines of your stretch marks up to your sex, where he doesn’t even bother moving the gusset of your knickers, and he just dives in.
Tongue flat against your cunt, drenching the sheer fabric with his spit and your moisture. Your moans are so soft compared to the sloppy mess he’s making of you down there, his insecurity blessed by a sort of beginner’s luck. Or maybe he’s just that hungry, and that is enough for your cunt flutter around nothing anyway.
You’re speechless when he finally lifts himself up, slotting his hips between your kiss-bitten thighs. His cock lands heavy on your pelvis, painting your lower belly with speckles of sheer precum. Head swollen and red right above your belly button.
You look at him wide-eyed, on your back, stock-still—anticipating his next move with your heart rate spiking.
He takes you completely by surprise (once again? In one night? Who is this man?), when he moves your knickers to the side, and instead of plunging in, he slides his cock between your folds and snaps the lace back above it. And then he starts rutting in shameless abandon, holding you steady by your thighs, letting the sheer fabric of your panties cover his tip and half of his shaft, as he runs himself back and forth over the surface of your pussy.
“M’gonna ruin it, sorry.” He croaks, as one of his hands comes to clumsily grab your tits through the lace. “So fuckin’ pretty—fuck—bloody hell, you—”
You coax him to go on with breathless moans because he’s never looked more breathtaking than he does now. Tiny drops of sweat drip from his forehead onto your belly, cheeks flushed and long lashes fanning his cheekbones. His lips yield a grunt each time the lace scratches his shaft. Your breath hitches each time the head of his cock catches your clit.
“Gonna buy ya a new one, yeah?” He grunts, looking down at the wet patch his cock is making through the lace. “Gonna buy ya fuckin’ ten.”
He’s never been this vocal, and you don’t dare to mouth a whisper in case he catches himself in the act. Not even when you cum, a short and stinging orgasm that makes your clit burn at the friction, do you dare to moan. You tilt your head back and shut your eyes, neck corded in the strain to keep it in, flushing with warmth in unbearable silence.
You think you hear his voice crack through the cotton in your ears when you come back down from your high. “Fuck—God, fuck. Wha’ a gift, eh? F’ me. All f’me.”
He pulls back a few moments later, taking his cock out of your panties and into a thick hand. A few pumps, and he cums on your lace, painting your belly and your cunt in glistening white.
He’s panting as his hand languidly comes to a halt. Chest flushed and with a thin layer of sweat over it.
“Sorry,” he murmurs, clearly dizzy—as if he needs to apologize for this. “I ruined it. I—just—gonna go grab somethin’ to—to clean y'up, wait 'ere—Jesus Christ.”
He slowly comes to stand, knees popping and legs shaking as he stumbles to the bathroom.
You look down at the spurts of cum covering your stomach and staining the lace of your panties, and then you flop your head back onto the mattress, wide eyes locked to the ceiling.
A chuckle of disbelief escapes you, still in shock from the sudden switch in behavior. And you think, when he comes back with a towel to clean the mess he’s made on your skin, that you might have to take another trip to the shop this weekend—buy yourself a new little piece.
But later, then, he falls asleep with his head on your chest, fingers lazily toying with the lace of your bra (because he’s asked you to keep it on, you know—“Like how 't feels”), and so you move up your shopping a little—already on your phone, running your thumb to skim through pinks and blues, laces and silks.
You might just order a new one right now.
It’s at that moment that he shifts in his sleep, slipping his hand under the band of your lacy bra and curling his fingers around your breast.
You change your mind.
You might just order ten.
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fastandcarlos ¡ 1 day ago
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Baby In Papaya : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris
summary: as your son starts to join you in the mclaren paddock, it doesn't take long for him to earn his own piece of papaya too
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The noise in the garage quietened as soon as the team watched you walk in, holding onto the hand of your son. Lando stood up straight away, kneeling down with his arms wide open as your son ran through and jumped straight into Lando’s hold. 
“Hi buddy,” Lando grinned, pressing a kiss against his cheek before placing him back on his feet, allowing him to say hello to the other faces around the garage that he knew. 
Once you had placed your bag down, you made your way over to Lando too, feeling his lips peck against your cheek, his arm snake around your waist. Zak was quick to come and greet you, letting you know just how excited the team were to have you back in the garage again. 
“Anything you need today, you let us know,” he told you, making sure that you were looked after. Since having your son, it was your first time at a race, and the team were keen to make life as easy for you as they possibly could. 
After saying hello, your son ran back over to Lando, hiding behind his leg as the noise got louder. With everyone stood in a huddle, Zak reached up onto one of the shelves, pulling down a box and holding it out to you. 
“We got a little something for the little man to welcome him to McLaren,” Zak told you. 
“Really, you guys are adorable,” you grinned, taking the box from Zak. 
With your son’s help you lifted the lid off, greeted by a patch of papaya straight away. As you reached in, the material unfolded to reveal a McLaren shirt, a smaller replica of the one that Lando wore around the garage. 
Your son’s eyes lit up as he realised that he had been given the same as what Lando wore, bouncing up and down on his feet. “What do you say?” You asked him, watching him peer around from behind Lando and thank Zak for the gift he had given him. 
Soon enough, your son had taken his top off, his arms stretched up in the air. You knew exactly what he wanted, placing the new shirt over his head, pulling it down as it fit perfectly around his little body. 
No one was more excited than Lando though as he knelt down, standing next to your son. They were almost identical in their matching shirts, exactly what Lando had always dreamt of. 
“You look so handsome,” you smiled across at them both. 
“I’m just like daddy now, aren’t I?” 
Your head nodded in reply to your son, “hopefully it stops at the shirt, if it extends to driving race cars too, I think might have a breakdown.” 
Several chuckles came from around the paddock as the team went back to their jobs, leaving you, Lando and your son sat in one corner of the garage, with Oscar soon inviting himself over to join the three of you too. 
“When you were pregnant Lando used to talk about how he wanted to match with his child,” Oscar informed you, “it was all he talked about.” 
“Did he now?” You teased, “funny how you never told me that.” 
Lando shot a glare across at Oscar who had a proud smile on his face, lifting your son and placing him into his lap as he continued to admire his shirt. 
“I was thinking we could head out on a paddock tour in a bit,” Lando spoke, wanting to make sure that his son got the full experience of the garage, even if he was a little too young to be able to take it all in. 
“Will it be safe enough to take him around?” You quizzed, a little more doubtful than Lando was. “It’s busy out there, especially with all the car parts being moved around too.” 
Lando nodded confidently, not wanting you to worry. “I’ll be right there with you guys so you won’t be by yourselves. And if he gets lost, at least everyone will know that he belongs to McLaren now too.” 
Your eyes rolled as Lando proudly admired how amazing your son looked in the shirt once again. It had been a long time since you’d seen him so excited, knowing just how long he’d waited to show your son around, you just couldn’t say no to him. 
As he watched your head nod, Lando’s eyes lit up. “There’s so many people who have been pestering to meet him.” 
“I’m trusting you," you warned, poking against Lando's side. You looked across at Oscar who couldn’t help but laugh at you both, remembering how much fun it was to have you at the paddock. “This might be the stupidest decision that I’ve made in my life.” 
Oscar cleared his throat from beside you, “I’d argue that your stupidest decision was choosing to sleep with this guy,” he joked, smirking in Lando’s direction. “I mean even after all these years I wonder what it was that you ever saw in Lando.” 
“I’m sat right here,” Lando reminded you, speaking as if he was invisible. ”And obviously she saw how devilishly handsome I was, otherwise we wouldn’t have our little papaya baby sat here right now.” 
He was Lando’s pride and joy, on the edge of his seat with excitement about being able to introduce him to everyone. Before you knew it, he was up and holding onto your son to carry him round, hurrying you up so that he could take you around with him. 
As Lando began to walk, you hung back, with Oscar deciding to join you too. “Do you have any idea how excited he’s been to do this?” He asked you. 
“I imagine he’s been unbearable,” you laughed. 
Oscar nodded, never failing to be surprised by how well you knew Lando. “I think everyone has been driven slightly up the wall listening to him this weekend. He’s told me five times alone that you were coming, just in case I happened to forget.” 
Ahead of you, Lando walked with a spring in his step, allowing his son to wave to just about everyone. A few of the other drivers came over, keen to meet the little boy that they had heard so much about. Your son was adorable at the best of times, but dressed in papaya, he had everyone obsessing over him. 
“I think someone’s enjoying themselves,” Lando smiled back at you as yet another driver waved goodbye. Lando bounced your son in his hold, making sure that you saw just how big his smile was. 
“Is it our son, or is it secretly you?” You joked. 
“I’m having the time of my life,” Lando proudly admitted, unable to contain himself. “I always knew it anyway, but papaya really does suit my boy.” 
Your head shook at Lando’s grin, “it was only a matter of time before I ended up losing my son to McLaren, wasn’t it?” 
“His whole wardrobe will be papaya soon, I’ll make sure it’s packed out with plenty of merch,” Lando assured you, “and everyone will know that he is daddy’s biggest fan.” 
“I remember the days when I was your biggest fan,” you joked, “now I’ve just been pushed aside like I’m nothing thanks to our child.” 
“Don’t worry, there’s a place for you at number two.” 
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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alchemistc ¡ 15 hours ago
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The voice echoes. He's coming in and out of it, desperate to open his eyes, desperate to make sure he can actually feel all his fingers and toes, but it's hard.
He knows that voice though. He knows he does.
The building hadn't been as stable as they thought it was. Probably in the investigation later on they'll discover building codes not up to standard, faulty evacuation plans. He got the kid out, though. He knows he got the kid out.
Eddie too, he's pretty sure.
".. uck!" The voice yells. It's kind of funny, he thinks to himself, as he can feel the strings of consciousness slipping, how much his name sounds like a curse when you're having a hard time keeping things straight. And then everything fades to black.
---
---
"Buck, please. Just wake up."
He wants to, is the thing. It's not like he's not trying, he wants to tell the voice, wants to be a little petulant about it too. That feels like the right attitude to have, for some reason.
It's hard to breathe. Might be something has him pinned. He'd seen beams falling, he's pretty sure.
"Goddamnit!" the voice yells, and Buck strains to remember. "I can't move this fucking thing unless you're able to get out from under it on your own, so wake the hell up. C'mon. Give me something to work with."
Buck wiggles a toe. Fucking ow.
Fingers, next, and that - that's a whole new ballgame of pain, but holy shit he can feel it all. Jesus Christ it hurts.
"For fucks sake, Evan, I'll take anything, at this point. Please."
Buck's lips suddenly feel a lot less numb. He does know that voice.
Hasn't heard it in three weeks, except for on the voicemail he'd left three months ago complaining about downtown parking for the hundredth time and letting Buck know he was gonna circle the block again, but -
"T- Tommy?"
Buck blinks his eyes open just in time to see Tommy drop to his knees near Buck's head, a relief filled sob echoing around the space. Buck takes the opportunity to stare.
"Hey," Tommy says, breathless, the corners of his eyes wet, his turnouts fully covered in dusty debris. It's an achingly familiar sight, even if he's significantly less sooty than the last time.
"You swear a lot more on the job," Buck notes, and Tommy bites out a desperate laugh, slipping a hand from a glove to reach for Buck's cheek.
"How are you feeling?" Tommy asks, and Buck crinkles his nose, widens his eyes. He laughs again, and Buck - God Buck has missed this but he's still having trouble taking in a full breath and - Tommy pulls a hand away from Buck's neck. "Your pulse is steady. Elevated, but you should be - can you wiggle fingers and toes?'
"Hurts like hell, but yeah."
"Well. A building just fell on you. So that tracks."
Buck takes stock of himself, even though he feels goddamn miserable taking his eyes away from Tommy.
Sure enough, there's a beam barred low across his chest. Definitely at least bruised ribs, if not broken ones. He can't see much over it, but it feels like he's got full, painful movement in his legs. "Tommy, I think my halligan's pinned with me."
He snorts. There's nothing funny about this, but Buck finds himself snorting back, the two of them bouncing off each other until Buck eventually winces at the pressure and Tommy gets himself under control. He's fully crying now, wet fat tears streaked through the dust on his face. "Thank fuck I am also a firefighter," Tommy says, and Buck prepares himself for the moment Tommy gets the tool under the beam at the right angle to lift. "How's your pain?" Tommy asks, when he's situated.
"On a scale from ladder pinning my ankle to lightning strike?"
Tommy scowls.
"I'll be able to move if you make room. If that's what you're asking."
Tommy eyes the space. The beam. The settling dust and the only real angle he's got with enough leverage to make space for Buck to slide himself free. He won't be able to help Buck pull himself out. "The moment you have an inch you move backward as fast as you can. There's at least two yards of clearance behind you, and I'm not dropping this thing on your fucking head by accident."
Buck nods.
Tommy grabs his chin. "Verbal confirmation, Evan," he demands, suddenly so serious Buck has to swallow back a bratty retort.
"One inch, pull myself backwards."
Tommy nods. Situates his hands. "Good." And then before Buck can brace for the pain he's lifting the beam.
It's fast. So fast Buck doesn't have time to scream, or listen to the signals from his brain telling him he's fucking dying. Tommy lifts, Buck scrambles, and he has just enough room to clear his legs before rubble shifts to their left and Tommy's dropping the halligan to roll his entire body over Buck's.
A few broken pieces of concrete roll to a stop before they reach the two of them, and Buck beams up at Tommy. "Little bit of an overreaction, don't you think?"
Tommy settles his weight. Tips his chin so that he can see Buck beyond his visor. "I feel like maybe you aren't taking this as seriously as you should."
Buck shoves a shoulder against Tommy's weight, and he rolls right off, lays side to side with Buck while they both catch their breath. It's such a fucking familiar position that Buck fails to stifle a laugh.
"What are you doing here?" he asks, when he's calmed down enough that Tommy has stopped asking him concussion protocol questions.
Tommy sighs. Turns to his side, and Buck knows this position, too. They never did it in turnouts, though. "They grounded us an hour before the collapse."
"I heard," Buck presses. "I also heard the 217 was working fire suppression on the perimeter."
Tommy looks guilty. He rolls his neck, reaches out under the guise of checking Buck's pulse again.
Buck doesn't stop him.
"Yeah I might be fired," he says, and then shrugs a shoulder. "They called for full evac and when Eddie came out with that kid but you didn't -."
Buck feels a little breathless again. He almost asks Tommy how much he's got in his tank - Bucks's ran out a while ago. But they seem - pretty firmly trapped. Buck can't see an exit point, and he's almost positive there's not enough room for both of them to stand at the same time. They'll need that oxygen. "You came after me?"
Tommy sighs. Seems satisfied that Buck's heart is still doing what it's supposed to, and that he's not leaking internally. When he shifts his hand, it's not away - callused hands catch the underside of Buck's chin, fingers curl over his cheek. "I'd tell you not to read into it, but..."
Buck's breath catches. He holds it. There's - he has no idea how much air they have. They don't have time (or enough air, maybe) for Buck to lean up and kiss him. "Tommy."
"We'll talk about it when we're both safely out of here and bundled in our shiny blankets. If the 118 doesn't kill me first."
"What...?" Buck doesn't know what that means. They did everything they could to convince him not to reach out but they also weren't, like, calling for his head. He wants to know what it means. Tommy's brow goes up.
He shifts to his knees, holds out a hand. "Help me look around. See if we can find an air pocket."
He helps Buck to a kneel of his own like it's nothing, and despite the creaks and groans and the sting of sore muscles, Buck doesn't think there's anything permanently damaged. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It'll keep, Evan."
More than anything, Buck wants to call him out on that. The implication that Tommy knows more about the 118's current feelings on Tommy than Buck does. His name, suddenly back in play like Tommy hadn't used the lack of it to dig the knife in.
Buck shifts his weight and checks for his flashlight. Aims up, first, as high as the beam of light will go. There's really not much room in this little pocket of space.
He can hear Tommy shifting on his knees behind him. They need to be smart. Conserve air, conserve energy. Buck had been near a sidewall when the building came down, but who knows how long it'll take for the building to be stable enough to attempt a rescue. Maybe they're still gonna die in here, after all.
God, he doesn't want Tommy to die.
"Back to Evan, I noticed," Buck comments, doing a terrible job of not sounding eager, and he can hear the heaving breath Tommy takes, the way the shift of his body just pauses.
"The thing is, the moment I realized I might not have any more time, all I wanted was another five minutes. Just to hear you breathe. See your face. You wouldn't even have to know I'd done it, just -." He sucks a breath in through his nose. "I just realized the pain is still worth it."
That spurs Buck into action, because - because they're not gonna die - not here, not now, not for as many years as Buck can squeeze out of this life. He shifts. He pokes. He checks for light beyond the pockets between rubble. He takes even, measured breaths around the rapidly tightening muscles around his ribs and the moment he feels a draft he almost cries.
"Tommy!"
He turns to catch his eye, thrilled, ready to drag him over and -
"Tommy?"
He's slumped on his side. And - and god damnit, Buck is so fucking stupid, he should have checked Tommy too, should have known if he was hurt he'd hide it like the massive asshole he is.
There's nothing obvious until Buck pulls at his turnouts, and then he has to hold in a scream so he doesn't bring the rest of the place down on them.
---
---
The paramedics don't fight him when he shoves his way into the ambulance behind them. No one does, not as he's shoving Hen and Chim away from him while they desperately try to check his vitals, not when Eddie takes one look at the rebar sticking through Tommy's side and his face goes fucking white.
He crashes twice on the way to the hospital.
---
---
Buck comes to slowly, and is immediately pissed, because he's in a fucking hospital bed.
Eddie leans over him when he sits up. "Take a second, man."
"Did you drug me?"
The eyebrow raise is a little condescending. "You passed the fuck out in the middle of the waiting room when they told us Tommy's surgery went well."
Well that's - that's - oh God, Tommy's okay. He remembers now. Tommy pulled through. Tommy was out of surgery and they were setting him up in a room and it'd be a while before he woke up but he was -
"I wanna see him."
Eddie chuckles, and Buck seriously considers throwing something at him, but before he can find something to toss Eddie's leaning sideways in his seat to pull the curtain divider away. "Even the nurses were taking bets that you'd kill a man if they put you in separate rooms."
He'll have to thank Gina later.
Tommy's still asleep. In repose, he breathes deep and even, eyes fluttering behind his lids, and Buck remembers what an active fucking sleeper he is, how much it had infuriated him that Tommy could never remember his dreams. God.
He's bruised around the eyes, there's a clean shave on the side of his head where he'd taken falling rubble in his mad dash past the kid Buck had sent ahead of him. The hospital gown looks so stupid on him.
Buck glares when Eddie tries to wrangle him back under his thin blanket - swings his legs over the side and tries not to wince when he puts his weight down and feels exactly how fucked up his ribs are. The bindings are tight. He's gonna need help rewrapping them.
"Tommy said something about you guys wanting to kill him. Know anything about that?"
It's a little accusatory. A lot, actually. Eddie sighs. "He tried to bring your shit by the station a week later when he knew you were off shift. Chim and Hen weren't, uh ... particularly nice about it."
Buck blinks. He still hasn't gotten any of that back.
"So he just ...took it back? Didn't leave it behind?"
"Oh he took about fifteen minutes of having his head bit off and then grabbed the box and shoved it back in his bed before he left."
Despite how absolutely ridiculous that all sounds, it makes something sizzle under his skin. If it was all just adrenaline, all just heat of the moment panic, Tommy would have left that box anyway.
They know so much and still so little about each other.
He's pretty sure he might actually get the chance to know more now. Even if he has to pry it from Tommy piece by piece for another decade or five.
Buck shoves that thought right down and gives himself the next two days to think about.
"And what'd you do, while they were berating him?"
"Oh, I threw like three loaves of bread in there with your stuff while he wasn't looking."
"You gave him my moping bread?"
"Two of the sourdoughs and an Irish soda bread."
"What if he didn't open the box back up?"
Eddie shrugs. "I hedged my bets. Either he opened that box back up to do his own moping or eventually there'd be some moldy ass bread in there."
"I hate raisins, by the way," comes the croaky voice to Buck's left, and Buck doesn't hesitate to wheel his saline bag the extra foot to reach the bedside. Buck knows that already. He'd made the soda bread out of spite, at three in the morning when he realized the second pillow still smelled like Tommy's shampoo and he'd remembered the almost-argument they'd had about wet hair on the pillows.
Tommy's hand meets Buck's halfway, and his smile is tired and magnificent.
Eddie smirks. "So you opened the box, then."
Tommy doesn't look away from Buck. His fingers squeeze. "I opened the box."
"Eddie, I need you to go distract Gina for like, three and a half minutes."
"...I know I'm going to regret asking," Eddie says.
"Tommy's hooked up to a bunch of monitors that are gonna make some extra noise in a second here, and they've already seen us making out in this hospital, they don't need to be alerted to another free show."
Eddie's out of his seat immediately, and halfway out the door when he turns back. "Just so we're all on the same page, this is not me encouraging this. You two are just walking talking piles of trauma and you can't just kiss about it and suddenly everything is fine."
Buck can taste the bitchy comment on the tip of Tommy's tongue. He squeezes Tommy's fingers and counts himself lucky when all Tommy does is make a dismissive noise in the back of his throat.
It's not like Eddie's wrong.
The door clicks shut behind him.
---
---
Tommy sets aside a third jello cup and stares at the cards in his hand. He glances through his lashes as he sets two cards down on the pile. "Two sevens."
"Bullshit."
His eyes gleam with challenge as he flips them both over and Buck has to take another loss. He doesn't care, is the thing. He'll happily lose at cards to Tommy for the next -
Six months is a reasonable length of time, probably. They've hit that mark once before.
Tommy shifts his weight, grimaces, and Buck is on his feet in a heartbeat. "You need another pillow? Change the angle of the bed?"
He laughs, soft and warm, rolls his eyes. "That joke I made about you guys needing your own ward? You may not have it named after you, but it's practically the Ritz around here. All the nurses have come by like six times just to see if I needed my pillow fluffed. I'm good, Evan." Buck settles back into his seat. "I just have a hole the size of a boba straw in my side."
"It was significantly wider than a boba straw."
"Could still suck a tapioca pearl through it," Tommy reminds him, almost petulantly. It's been a treat discovering that Tommy can throw it back almost as well as Buck when he's ornery about being bedridden for a full two days.
Buck finishes rearranging his cards. Grabs three random ones and sets them atop the pile. "Three eights."
Tommy stares at his cards. Glances up at Buck. Turns his gaze to his cards one more time.
"One nine," he declares, and Buck doesn't even complain that he'd fully let him off the hook there.
---
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Tommy is actually the worst patient in the world. They have to have Eddie over to wrap Buck's ribs for at least a week, and Tommy refused to take any pain meds home with him, and every morning when Buck fusses with the dressings on Tommy's side Tommy stares in the mirror and complains that the scar isn't even symmetrical to the one on his ribs. Buck spends twenty minutes reminding him he'd have a punctured lung, if that was the case, and that seems to shut him up for a little while, at least.
"Hey," Tommy says, on day eleven, when Buck leans over him on the sofa to say goodbye and head back to the loft. Tommy's fine, really. He needs rest and leaving for the night isn't going to kill either one of them. Still, he tugs at Buck's belt loops until Buck allows a knee to bend and press into the cushion beside him. "This is not me asking you to move in with me."
"What -?"
Tommy presses something into his hand. It's warm, like Tommy's been smoothing it in his palm for a while, grooved along the edge facing Buck's fingers. "Yet," he says, softer than before, watching Buck palm it with a smile that Buck is beginning to fully understand the implications of.
It's a key.
Buck blinks. The years stretch ahead of him. Grumpy grizzled Tommy bitching about the towel rack having too many wet towels on it. Silver fox Tommy grinning over some flirty kids head at Buck as he tries to make it back to the booth they got to the bar early to camp at. Tommy, tomorrow, fondly annoyed when Buck confesses he can't watch another true crime documentary or it'll actually kill him.
"I love you," Buck blurts, and feels like crying when Tommy tugs him close for a kiss.
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prentisslvr ¡ 2 days ago
Text
NOT STRONG ENOUGH
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summary: you got injured whilst on the job and spencer isn’t to pleased (post!maeve)
pairings: grumpy!spencer reid x sunshine!reader
genre: hurt/comfort?
warnings: mentions of maeve’s death, and canon complicit violence
authors note: i saw someone in the spencer reid tag ask about a fic like this and it gave me inspiration to write my own!!
you hadn’t noticed the tight grip spencer had on the steering wheel when he drove you and him home, nor did you notice his face; if looks could kill, the car that was driving extra slow in front of the two of you would’ve spontaneously combusted.
however you did notice, the slam of his door as he got out the car, his clenched jaw and avoidant gaze as he helped you out, with your broken leg and crutches.
you were used to spencer’s grumpiness, he’d had such a pessimistic view on life, and you didn’t know if it was the optimist in you, or the young naivety, but you had always thought you could fix him.
you had grown to fall in love with spencer in all his grumpiness.
you enjoyed getting to kiss away his angry pout and massage his scalp as he grumbled about how awful his day was.
you enjoyed getting to listen to his rants and just smile and kiss him and take all his problems away, being his source of comfort, like he was yours.
you always loved how even though he was so grumpy, he managed to reserve some sweetness for you, it made you feel so loved, so seen.
spencer on the other hand couldn’t believe he managed to have you as his girlfriend, after maeve, he wasn’t sure he was made for love, it wasn’t meant for him.
but you were meant for him.
he was immediately taken aback by you, the new intern at the bau, so bright and happy, he’d wondered what someone like you was doing at a job like this. someone so young, so happy, so optimistic.
he remembered thinking about how this job would tear you in half, like it did him.
he vowed not to let that happen.
but as he watched, helplessly as you tackled the unsub to the ground, and getting into a literal tussle, he was filled with so much anger, at the unsub, but mainly at himself.
he knew when he was new, he wanted to do his best to stop the bad guys, even if it meant putting himself in danger, he knew the sings of a reckless intern.
why didn’t he stop it.
now you were half black and blue, and walking around the house, well, less walking, more being carried around by spencer, and he really just wanted to scream.
“that was so stupid, you know that.”
you blink, the food on your for you were about to shovel into your mouth forgotten. “i’m sorry?” you say confused, dropping the fork, it clattered loudly against the plate.
“that stunt you pulled.” he gritted his teeth. “i mean, what were you thinking, that you were gonna save the day?” spencer asked, tilting his head in such a way that made you feel taunted.
almost, belittled.
“i was thinking about that girl.” you say, brows furrowing, “and how nobody was doing anything, we were just standing there waiting, negotiating, i saw an opportunity and i took it, the girl is safe now and he’s going to be locked up for the rest of his life.”
“you’re not a hero.” spencer scoffed. “you got lucky, what would you have done if you died out there?”
“nothing, because i’d be dead.” you say, as nice and as kind as you were, you had a quick mouth and it drove spencer insane. “what’s up with you, why are you so upset over this.”
“upset!” he slammed his fist against the table standing up, causing you to flinch, and some cutlery to fall on the floor, your heart thumped in your chest, you weren’t scared of spencer, you had faith he would never hurt you, but he’d never been thing angry with you before.
“i am not upset.” he spits out. “i am enraged at how after all this.. after, me, you could still go out there and risk your life like that! after all i’ve done to protect you!”
“protect me..” you stare at him through a glare standing up yourself. “i chose this job, spence, i chose this profession, i knew what came with it, and i do not need to be protected!”
spencer’s chest heaved as he stared at you, in silence.
“i-” you huff. “i knew the risks that came with the job spencer, and out in that field, i knew what i was risking, but it’s my life spencer. i’m perfectly aware of what i am doing.”
spencer closed his eyes and heaved out a long breath, pinching his nose. “you don’t get to make reckless decisions like that!” he screams clenching his fists. “not when it comes to your life.” he whispered softly, slowly sitting back in seat, as if he’d folded completely.
“i don’t know what i’d do if i lost you..” he says, licking his lips. “when.. when you think about losing someone you love, you can’t imagine it, what it would be like, but i can, because i have, i have lost someone, multiple people.” he says.
“in that moment, when i watched you tackle.. tackle that guy.” he squeezes his eyes shut, tears threatening to spill, as you watch him intensely. “i knew what it would be like spend the rest of my life without you, and i don’t think i’m strong enough to come to terms with that.”
spencer’s admission makes your chest hurt, it never occurred to you what something like taking a risk could do to him. spencer already had lost a lot, and you didn’t want to become a reason he loses another.
you step forward nudging his chin so his eyes were looking up into yours, his cheeks were wet with tears, and for the first time you didn’t see a grumpy man, a pessimistic man, you saw a man who’d had his heart broken far too often.
you gently stroke his cheek. “hey, i’m not going anywhere anytime soon, i’m an intern, today was just an off day.” i raise my brows. “i doubt i will be allowed in the field for a long time.”
he smiled, his eyes still red from tears. “i know you love your job, and i won’t try and stop you from doing it, but please, be careful, if not for you, then for me.”
“i’d do anything for you.” you say, kissing him on the lips. “i’ll be careful for you.”
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reneesghostinthelivingroom ¡ 3 days ago
Text
Taunting
|| Sevika x fem!reader
|| Warnings; rough smut, praise kink, size kink, brat & brat tamer dynamic, swearing, fingering, choking, use of 'pet' nickname, reader receiving, slapping, hair pulling, orgasm
|| Summary; when Sevika gets home, she reminds reader who's in charge.
Requests closed!
Started; November 12th
Finished; November 12th
Anon Request; brat tamer Sevika
~~~
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When your girlfriend got home, it didn't take her long to have you on the bed. You easily complied, because your defiance would come later. And she knew that just as much as you did, so Sevika took the opportunity to tease you. A wolfish grin formed on her lips as she looked down at you. You who was between her legs as she hovered over your hips, her thighs squeezing against you to keep you put. Sevika knew you were a squirmer, so she kept you still.
"What? Not gonna run, pet?" The words fell from her lips like a spit. As if Sevika were taunting you. Taunting you into being a brat for her to tame. You grinned up at her, an almost sheepish smile. You made your first act of defiance. Escaping her thighs. Your legs moved so fast, it caught Sevika off guard for a moment. You scrambled away, only making it to the edge of the bed before her strong arms wrapped around your waist. Pulling you flush against her," no, you don't." She muttered, placing you back in the spot you'd been before. Only this time she sat right on your hips. Letting all of her weight hold your much smaller frame under her. While her hands pinned yours to the bed.
Sevika's hands were so much bigger than yours, that her palm could practically fit around your entire hand. Your cheeks turned bright red as you looked at her hand against yours. God, you just wanted Sevika's finger already. But you had to play with her a little more. Wanting her to just dominate you.
You tried to squirm and Sevika simply laughed, keeping you under her with ease as she leaned down. Her lips brushing against your ear," I got you. You're not strong enough to fight me," She murmured. The feeling of her breath sending vibrations through you. A small whimper left your lips when you nodded. Showing her that you would submit, but only long enough for her to let go of you and loosen herself up a bit. The moment Sevika did, you took advantage and got behind her. Shoving her down onto the bed with as much force as you could; little did you know she let you. Finding the whole thing incredibly amusing. She laughed. Adjusting herself under you so her back was to the bed. Her hands rested on your hips. Holding you in place again, only this time on top of her.
"Now what're you gonna do?" Sevika said with a grunt. Your hands came up to her throat and she looked a little surprised when you applied pressure.
"Taking back control," You smirked and she laughed. A full shoulder shaking laugh. Her hand wrapped around your wrist, easily getting you off her neck. Biting the inside of your palm in a way that made you whimper.
"That's cute, you think you can control me?" The words practically came out as a purr when she spoke and you shrugged. Grinning from ear to ear. "C'mere." She muttered, yanking you till you were flush against her again. A gasp left your lips when she pulled you. And your defiance melted when her lips latched onto yours. A kiss so searing you were sure your lips would be swollen. If not bruised. As Sevika kissed you, her prosthetic hand came down and slapped your ass. Making your whole body flinch and shudder. Your whimper being swallowed by her. Sevika broke the kiss before you could get your tongue in, biting your lip. Her eyes looked into yours. "You gonna be a good girl? Or do I have to slap you again?"
"I dunn-" It barely left your lips before she slapped your ass again. You whined and gripped her clothes until your knuckles turned white.
"What was that?" She muttered, you nodded. Trying to tell her that you'd listen this time. Only Sevika's hand gripped your chin, bringing you impossibly closer," words, pet."
"Y-yes-" You fumbled and she smirked. Seemingly satisfied enough with your response. She tossed you back down on the bed. Hands working to get all your clothes off. It didn't take her long, she practically ripped through them, murmuring some promise about getting you new clothes later. You just melted under her, letting her take full control. Besides, even you couldn't take the teasing anymore. Your pussy may as well have been dripping. And you could still feel the stings and tingles on your ass from where Sevika's hand met. You were sure there would be marks.
"P-please..." You begged, wanting to feel her fingers inside you. Your insides clenching around nothing. You gave her the most desperate look you could muster. Sevika smirked, more than enjoying the sight of you. Begging and pleading for her..
"Now you remember your manners, huh?" Sevika muttered, laying herself down on you. Her lips brushed your cheek this time when she whispered," I think I'll leave you to squirm a little longer. You know, punishment for earlier." You could feel her smirk against your skin. You couldn't help but whine in protest, reaching out to grab her clothes again and pull her against you. Kissing her in a desperate attempt to convince her. Convince her to let you have your way. Have her fingers. She let you kiss her, starting to give in to what you wanted. After all, Sevika wanted it too.
You kissed her and her fingers suddenly thrusted into you. Starting right off the bat with two fingers that she slipped into your wet folds. With surprising ease. She started slow, but that didn't last long. The moment Sevika hooked her fingers to reach your g spot, she pumped relentlessly. Never giving you a moment. This was part of your punishment for your earlier behaviour. She broke the kiss, hand coming down to grip your throat with her prosthetic. The cold metal sending shivers down your spine. Letting out series of moans that synced with her pumps. Every time Sevika hit your g spot, your moans got louder. More breathy. More whimpers.
"God, god- fuck-" You grunted, desperate pleas leaving your lips. Needing more. Which was exactly what she gave you. Sevika watched the way your body moved, how she practically had you bouncing from how hard her fingers went into you. The way your mouth was fixed open.. unable to anything but beg and plea for more through your moans. Sevika fucking loved it. Every single minute.
"Such a good pet, aren't you?" Sevika praised, her hand moving from your throat to your hair. Brushing it aside before she gripped it tight. Careful not to get it caught between the gears of her prosthetic. Your mouth hung open while you nodded. Desperate to please her. A total contrast from your earlier behaviour. In no time at all, you were cumming against her fingers. A scream leaving your mouth as the sensation flooded your body.
"Sevika-!" You screamed her name and her expression couldn't have been any more satisfied. Sevika's fingers slid out of you when you finished, panting for breath. Your eyes locked onto hers. She brought you into a gentle kiss, cold prosthetic fingers brushing your neck softly. Over the marks she had left there earlier.
"You did so good for me," Sevika muttered and you nodded. Completely spent. God, she really knew how to tire you out.
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museanddream ¡ 2 days ago
Text
Holy (Alexia Putellas x reader)
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Summary: You’d do anything for Alexia, that’s why you’re her good girl.
Warnings: 🔞 | praise kink, anal sex, bottom!reader
Word count: 3.3k
“Shh, it’s fine. You’ll take it.” A pause, and then a question. “Isn’t that right?”
Alexia’s voice is soft, the hand that strokes up and down your side even softer, but it doesn’t distract you from the blunt head of the dildo harnessed to her hips that’s currently nudging against your asshole. She doesn’t push in yet, maybe sensing your anxiety, but the silicone pressed against the tight ring of muscle is a gentle reminder of what’s to come.
Realising that Alexia is still waiting for your answer, you gently breathe out and say, “Yes.”
“Yes?” Alexia echoes. “Of course you’ll take it. You’re always such a good girl for me.”
She’s already given you a teaser of what it’s going to feel like, already stretched you open with three of her fingers, but you don’t think anything could have prepared you for the sensation as she starts to push forward with her hips. It’s not so much the feeling itself, but the thought of what she’s doing, the realisation that Alexia is taking your ass. That, and the look of wonder on Alexia’s face as she watches where she ever so slowly enters you.
You’ve never considered yourself to be particularly religious, but the whole experience feels some kind of holy.
“Ale,” you whimper.
She responds by hushing you again, then draws another noise from your throat as she starts rocking her hips slowly back and forth, even with just the head of her cock inside you.
“I’ve got you.” Alexia’s voice is low and calm. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”
With each gentle thrust, she sheathes herself deeper within you. You already feel so much fuller than you did with her fingers, yet it’s somehow still not enough. You want her to fill you, to fuck you, to take your ass in the same way she would normally use your cunt.
“Alexia.” You repeat her name, trying to urge her deeper. “Please.”
Your hand reaches down and grapples at her hip, your fingers eventually wrapping around the hanging end of one of the harness straps, trying to urge her closer.
Her hips stilling, she swats at your hand, a little crease forming between her eyebrows as she shakes her head.
“Enough of that,” she warns you. “I can only make you feel good if you behave.”
You drop your hand obediently, instead trying to use only your eyes to implore Alexia to just move.
“Good girl,” she praises you, causing your pussy to clench around nothing, which only emphasises the stretch of her cock in your ass. “You don’t need to do anything except lie there and look pretty. I’m going to take such good care of you. My perfect little whore.”
The way that Alexia says the word is reverent, like it’s a term of endearment. You’d be willing to do pretty much anything to have her call you a whore again and maybe that’s her entire plan, because she takes the opportunity to slide the rest of the way in until the entire length of her cock is nestled inside you, fuller than you’ve ever felt before.
“How does that feel, cariño? How do I feel inside you?”
“Good.” Your answer is brief, unable to string together much more than single words. “Full. Fuck. Ale, so full.”
She looks down at you with a hint of pride on her face, her hands stroking up and down your thighs where they’re hooked around her waist.
“Good. I’m going to start fucking you now.”
Alexia does this sometimes, she narrates everything that’s happening while she fucks you like she’s a casual spectator, not the one actually doing it all to you. And it drives you wild, hearing her voice so cool and level while you feel like you’re losing your goddamn mind with her buried to the hilt inside you.
She repositions slightly, pulling you right to the edge of the mattress so that she’s standing at the foot of the bed with your legs wrapped around her. You let out a cry as the toy shifts inside you and she soothes you with another hush.
“I’ve got you,” she says, even as she withdraws nearly all the way, before pushing back in almost as slowly.
Being fucked by Alexia is always the best kind of torture. She likes to tease and tonight has been no exception. She ate you out for what felt like an eternity before going anywhere near your asshole, working you up with her tongue on your clit until you were nearly trembling, only pulling away when you were right on the brink of orgasm.
That’s when she turned her attention to your ass. You’ve talked about it for a while but the first touch of her tongue against your rim, the stretch of her lubed-up finger breaching your asshole for the first time, is something that no amount of talking could’ve prepared you for. She worked you open slowly, adding a second finger and then a third only when she was absolutely sure you were ready for it, when you were pretty much begging for her to fill you up.
Even now, with the strap, she doesn’t rush. She’s not hesitant, but it’s slow and measured. She’s in absolute control and you can only lie there and take as much as she’s willing to give you.
“Ale,” you whine.
Without breaking the steady push of her hips, Alexia’s gaze meets yours.
“What? You want more?” She reads your mind but you don’t dare nod in response. “Am I not fucking you well enough?”
She punctuates her words by somehow pushing deeper, but still just as slow. You can feel every inch of silicone stretching you open as she slides in and out.
It’s the same as when she fucks your cunt, the same pleasurable stretch, the same feeling of having Alexia surrounding you and filling you up, yet it’s completely different too. The pleasure is more of an ache, bristling under the surface and only serving to remind you how empty your pussy is, how close you were earlier when Alexia’s mouth was on you. Each thrust into your ass feels like it’s turning you inside out.
You love it and hate it at the same time. Love the way it feels to have Alexia filling your ass. Hate the fact that she’s giving you so much and it’s somehow still not enough.
“Please, Ale. Need to come.”
Alexia’s hips still and she gives you a stern look that almost has you immediately cowering away and apologising for being so needy.
“Patience, cariño. You’ll come when I want you to come.”
You have no control over the whine that escapes from your throat.
“What’s the matter, bebé? You trust me, right?”
You take a couple of deep breaths. Alexia’s large hands are on your thighs, fingers splayed out against the soft skin and tracing tiny paths back and forth that certainly aren’t helping to temper your need for release. But you do trust her. As torturous as each second that she denies you is, if Alexia says that she’ll make you come, then you know it’ll happen.
Patience. It’s never been one of your greatest virtues. Especially not when Alexia is involved. Especially not when you’ve been wanting her to take your ass like this for what feels like forever.
Another deep exhale, then you answer, “Yeah.”
Alexia’s eyes soften, her fingers tighten appreciatively against the thighs that are still wrapped around her hips.
“So you know I’m going to take good care of you, don’t you?”
You nod, unable to tear your eyes away from her face.
“You’ll come for me, I promise. Just let me have my way with you first. Okay?”
Her voice soothes you, the lyrical way that her accent curls around each word. There’s comfort in having her so close and you manage to relax, even with her cock buried to the hilt in your ass.
Alexia must feel it, for she smiles and softly murmurs, “Good girl.”
She starts moving again, with more of a rhythm now. Still so full, still aching for something in your cunt or on your clit, but the feeling Alexia fucking you properly sends more endorphins to your brain with each slap of her hips against your thighs.
When she takes you like this, you’re reminded of everything you love about Alexia. The physical stuff - how strong she is, how powerful, how majestic she looks with lean muscle and sun kissed skin towering over you. But also how well she takes care of you, the reassuring softness of her hands on your thighs and the look of wonder on her face as she watches where her cock splits you open. How she knows your body well enough to give you exactly how much you can take and not a fraction more.
Alexia’s hands slide around your thighs, pushing your legs up away from their resting place around her hips. You reach down to help her, a hand behind the crease of each knee pulling your legs up towards your head, spreading yourself wide enough that she can see everything.
There’s nowhere for you to hide.
“If only you could see what I can see. Your pretty little asshole stretched open for my cock. Taking it so well.”
Her words of praise make you even wetter, if that were somehow possible. Or maybe it’s just the new position, spread out like this, that makes you feel like you’re dripping down to where her cock enters you.
Still fucking into you, Alexia doesn’t even seem to be breaking into a sweat. Like this is all so routine for her.
Like she isn’t taking your ass for the first time.
You’d maybe think she was completely unaffected by it all, if it wasn’t for the look on her face. Transfixed by the sight of you spread open, wet, and taking her so readily, you’ve never seen such hunger in her eyes, like she’s ready to devour you completely.
“You were just made for my cock, weren’t you?” She asks, her voice husky with arousal. “All your holes, just begging for me to fill them.”
One of her hands moves between your legs, brushing across your sensitive clit and collecting your arousal on her fingertips, before dipping lower to tease at your entrance.
Alexia’s voice seems to drop impossibly lower as her gaze flits up to your face and she says, “I bet you want something in here too.”
There’s a hint of a smirk on her pretty lips, coupled with a knowing look in her eyes. You hardly need to beg for her to know the truth.
But you’ll do it anyway.
“Ale,” you gasp, as her fingers toy with you, teasing, probing, but never dipping inside. “Please.”
“Of course you do. Such a perfect slut.”
Her fingers tease you, the same way she toyed with your ass earlier while prepping you for the same cock that she still rhythmically thrusts into you. Giving you just a hint of what you want, but not enough to satisfy you.
“Ale.”
“Go on,” she says, the curl of her lips taunting you. “Tell me what you want.”
Alexia already knows what you want, proving it by pushing two of her fingers into you just as far as the first knuckle, but she withdraws them just as quickly to rub tiny circles around your clit instead.
“Your fingers.”
The fingers in question slide torturously slowly down from your clit, stopping at your entrance just as Alexia asks, “Where?”
She’s such a fucking tease. You’d perhaps call her out on it, if you weren’t helplessly impaled on her cock. If you weren’t reliant on her for the orgasm that your body feels like it’s needed for hours.
So instead you manage to helplessly whine, “My pussy.”
Without breaking the steady rock of her hips, she starts to push her slippery fingers into your cunt. The stretch as she coaxes two of her fingers inside you steals your breath away. You’ve taken them countless times before, but never like this. Never with her cock already filling your ass.
“Ale…”
Her name passes your lips like a warning. A warning against what, you’re not exactly sure. Maybe that you’re never going to be the same after this. Or that she might have to fuck you like this every time for you to be fully satisfied.
Or that you’re going to come really fast now that Alexia is fucking both of your holes.
Each thrust of the strap into your ass is shattering your existence into thousands of tiny pieces, each press of her fingers into your cunt is reassembling those splinters into a different version of yourself.
“Ale.”
She ignores you, though you could swear that the snap of her hips against your ass speeds up just a fraction after you breathe her name like a prayer.
When she presses her thumb against your clit each time she curls her fingers inside you, you know that you’re a goner.
“Alexia, I’m going to come.”
“No,” comes Alexia’s immediate reply. “You’re going to wait.”
“I can’t.”
Her free hand comes up to your jaw, with her thumb on one side and her fingers splayed across the opposite cheek. Her grip is gentle, yet firm enough to lift your chin up, forcing your gaze to meet hers.
“You can.” Alexia tells you, before she throws it back to you with a question. “Can’t you?”
Maybe you’re drunk on the pleasure of her stretching you open in two places, maybe it’s just the intensity of her eye contact that is compelling you to agree with her. But Alexia has given you absolutely no reason to not trust her tonight.
As much as you can with her fingers gripping your jaw, you nod.
“Good girl.”
Until now, Alexia has been so careful with you. Despite the supposed vulgarity of where she’s fucking you, it’s never been about taking something from you, instead what she can give you.
Only now does she start to be a little more selfish.
She leans over you, one hand still wrapped loosely around your throat like a necklace and the other curling two fingers into your cunt. Her hips pick up the pace, finally taking her own pleasure.
Alexia fucks you hard, hips snapping against your ass, but you can take it. You want it, you want her, and there’s just a split second where you appreciate how skilfully she’s primed you to be able to take her like this, before it overwhelms you.
Alexia is everywhere all at once. The pleasure almost smothers you, or maybe it is Alexia’s hand around your throat cutting off your air supply. All you know is that suddenly you’re holding your breath as you try not to come before she allows it. Every muscle in your body is tightly coiled, ready to snap at any moment. Your thighs shake from the exertion of holding it all back.
“Alexia.” You manage to choke out her name in another warning.
“Yes,” Alexia hisses, even as she continues to fuck you. “Dios mio, you’re so good for me. Giving me all your precious holes to fuck. Letting me own you.”
“Ale … can’t …”
“My perfect girl.”
Her thumb on your clit already had you teetering on the precipice. But it’s her praise that pushes you headfirst into your orgasm.
The pleasure of it wrecks you. You’re spinning through space and time, no idea which way is up and which is down. As your back arches and your body shakes, all you’re really aware of is Alexia, her hands on your neck and inside you cunt, her cock still filling your ass. And she’s the only thing that matters, that and the way she makes you feel.
As the pleasure bleeds away into pure affection, you realise that Alexia is still rutting into you. You feel the stretch more than ever, especially as the aftershocks have you still clenching around the toy, and you open your mouth to ask her to slow down, when you realise that she’s close too.
The signs are unmissable. The little crease between her eyebrows, the glaze in her eyes, the tiny grunts she lets out with each thrust.
“Yes, baby,” you encourage her. Her fingers slip out of your cunt and she leans further over you, single-minded as she fucks you with one goal in mind. “Come for me. Come in my ass.”
As well as she knows your body, you know hers too, and you know exactly what to say to tip her over the edge into her orgasm. Sure enough, just a couple of thrusts later, her hips are stuttering inside you as the climax hits her.
You wrap yourself around Alexia, hands flat against the back of her shoulders and legs hooked around the small of her back, holding her as close as possible while she shudders through her orgasm. Alexia responds by pressing herself into you, swathes of hot skin against yours and her face nuzzling into your neck as the last few aftershocks tremble until she falls still in your arms.
For long moments, the only movement is the steady rise and fall as you both catch your breath. Your breathing syncs up with Alexia’s, until you’re both relaxed and heavy-limbed.
“Wow,” Alexia exhales, when she finally pushes herself up onto one arm so that she can look down at you with a warm smile, her eyes glowing with affection. Her free hand sweeps away some of the hair that is plastered to the sheen of sweat on your forehead. “You are just incredible.”
You feel your cheeks heat up, because in the wake of your orgasm, being praised by her is somehow more reason to feel shy than the fact she’s just taken your ass.
The thought makes you clench around the toy that’s still inside you, except that the sensation is much less comfortable than it was when you were brimming with pleasure and desperate to get off.
Alexia must see the wince that you try to conceal, because she presses her lips against yours, then murmurs, “I need to pull out. I’ll be gentle.”
She eases the toy out slowly, perhaps with even more care than she took to fill you. Part of you wishes that she’d pull out in one swift movement, like ripping off a band-aid, but soon you feel the toy slip free and finally, finally you can relax.
Alexia makes quick work of the harness, expertly unstrapping herself and tossing the toy to the floor beside the bed with a thud, before she settles on her back and pulls you into her side, her strong arms wrapping you in their cocooning warmth.
You settle against her, your head resting on her shoulder and your leg hooked across her hips, wondering when you became so lucky to get to call yourself hers.
Alexia, clearly, has other thoughts on her mind.
Her lips press against your temple, then she murmurs amusedly against your skin, “We’ll try a bigger one next time, no?”
You’re perfectly content like this, perfectly in love with this incredible woman, and you’d probably let her take you in any which way she wants to.
Right now, however, you’re too sated and exhausted to think of anything except sleep.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Ale,” you mumble sleepily into her shoulder.
You feel her lips curl up in a smile where they’re pressed against your forehead as her arms squeeze you closer.
“Amor, that’s not a no…”
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flwrstqr ¡ 18 hours ago
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` ★ SPIDERMAN!ENHYPEN
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ⓘ OO1. ──when you're his MJ 𓈃 ๋ spider man!enhypen x fem!reader . . . 982wc. fluff && skinship, slightly suggestive ARCHiVE ୨୧
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𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 (이희승)
"you really think spider-man's cute?" heeseung teases, leaning casually against your desk as you gush about the hero with your friends. you roll your eyes, pretending to ignore the way his eyes twinkle with mischief. "obviously. he's got that mysterious charm and those... muscles," you say with a playful smirk, watching as heeseung's jaw clenches. he shifts closer, lowering his voice, "bet he doesn't kiss you like i do." your breath hitches as his lips brush your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "besides," he murmurs, fingers tracing your wrist, "i heard he’s into pretty girls like you." your eyes widen, and he just grins, leaving you to wonder if your boyfriend knew a little too much about the masked hero. "wait, how would you know that?" you ask suspiciously, but he just winks, stealing a quick kiss before swinging away into the crowded hall.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐀𝐘 (박종성)
“you could’ve at least tried to act surprised,” jay murmurs, still hanging upside down from the fire escape, his masked face just inches from yours. you bite back a grin, watching the way his eyes crinkle through the suit’s fabric. “you’re telling me you think i didn’t recognize that voice by now?” you tease, crossing your arms with a smirk. “plus, i told you not to come around at night—it’s dangerous, remember?” he chuckles, tugging his mask up just enough to reveal his lips. “funny, i could say the same to you,” he whispers, his voice dropping as he leans closer. your breath hitches when he presses a quick kiss to your lips. "see you tomorrow, troublemaker," he says, swinging back up with one last wink.
𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 (심재윤)
“you know, i could get used to this,” you murmur, breath warm against spiderman’s suit as he holds you close on the rooftop, his arms securely wrapped around your waist. there's a smirk hidden behind his mask, and he tilts his head. “yeah? maybe i’ll stick around then,” he teases, voice just slightly lower than you remember hearing in class, but you brush it off. “yeah, maybe,” you reply, tugging at his collar. he chuckles, drawing you even closer, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. “guess i’ll have to save you more often.” you roll your eyes, grinning. “don't push your luck, spider-boy.”
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 (박성훈)
"you know, you're terrible at keeping secrets," you teased, crossing your arms as sunghoon dangled upside down from his web, his mask half-pulled up to reveal that smirk you’d come to adore. "oh yeah? what gave me away?" he chuckled, eyes glinting with mischief as he reached down to pull you closer. you rolled your eyes, trying not to let him see the blush on your cheeks. "maybe the fact that spiderman shows up at every single place i go? or, i dunno, the time i caught you changing on my fire escape?" his laughter bubbled up, carefree, before he leaned in, lips brushing yours. "guess i'm just drawn to trouble," he murmured against your lips. "lucky for me, trouble’s got a pretty face."
𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 (김선우)
“are you spiderman?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as sunoo froze, eyes wide. “what? uhm, no way!, he laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. but your gaze stayed fixed, catching the way his cheeks flushed under the dim streetlight. “right,” you smirked, crossing your arms. “then why do you always disappear the moment danger shows up?” he cleared his throat, looking anywhere but at you. “i just… have a strong sense of self-preservation?” you leaned closer, whispering, “well, if spiderman does show up, tell him i think he’s cute.” his breath hitched, and you could see the tiniest smile twitch at his lips as he mumbled, “i’ll… pass that along.”
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 (양정원)
“is this… comfortable for you?” jungwon mumbles, upside down, mask -pulled up to reveal his pretty face. you’re barely keeping yourself from laughing, but the way he’s dangling in front of you, his eyes wide and slightly nervous, is so endearing. “you know, you don’t have to hang upside down every time we meet, right?” you tease, reaching up to brush a strand of hair off his forehead. he shrugs, lips quirking. “comes with the suit,” he whispers, leaning closer. your heart skips a beat as he tilts his head just right, and you close the gap. the taste of his smile lingers as he murmurs, “so… what’s the judgement? still think you prefer normal boys?”
𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 (西村力)
“you know you don’t have to keep showing off like that,” you smirk, leaning against the rooftop’s ledge as riki, still in his suit, grins, flipping down from his web like it’s nothing. “showing off? this is just my usual hero routine,” he teases, inching closer until he’s a breath away. you roll your eyes, a hint of a smile breaking through. “right, ‘cause every hero needs to make extra sure his girlfriend’s safe by hanging upside down outside her window at 2 a.m.,” you reply, crossing your arms. his hand slides to your waist, pulling you closer. “just being thorough,” he murmurs, voice low, eyes twinkling. “can’t have anything happening to my favorite girl, right?” you laugh, heart racing, feeling the warmth of his touch. “whatever you say,”
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lardguz ¡ 1 day ago
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A Hero's Buttery Addiction
Just a little short thing this time, featuring a certain Hylian hero discovering the joys of cooking with butter! Inspired by @plumpybread whose art helps me visualize how to write larger sizes WAY better than I used to. I know he's like, a legend in the community already but if you haven't seen his work somehow, please check it out! His art is so good!
A cool breeze blew through the air in Rito Village, blowing south from the Hebra Mountains. Link suppressed a shiver, feeling the brisk chill around the bottom of his tunic. He adjusted the feather-lined garment quickly, pulling it down to cover his abdomen, but it immediately started riding up on him as soon as he continued walking. The Hylian grumbled to himself, opting to try and ignore it while he stocked up on supplies at the general store. Link walked into the cozy open-air hut, nodding at the Rito shopkeeper with a warm smile as he piled all of the goat butter the shop had in stock into his satchel. He handed a pouch of rupees to the Rito as payment before walking out of the store to head back out adventuring Hyrule. 
Link didn’t want to admit it to himself, but the Hylian has packed on some pounds in recent months. Once he had discovered the joys of cooking with goat butter, he never looked back, and the delicious, creamy, fattening substance had clearly affected his waistline. The sliver of pale, soft chub that peeked out from his warm Rito Tunic gave him a slight muffin top, and his thighs ever so slightly brushed together when he walked. Link seemed ignorant to these changes to his body, though; mentally, he attributed his tighter clothing to an ill-advised attempt at making a fan powered raft that fell apart, plunging him into icy cold water while fully clothed. To him, the cold water must have shrunk his clothing somehow! It couldn’t have anything to do with his new culinary obsession, surely! 
The pudgy Hylian sat at a cooking pot, sorting through his available ingredients. Link pulled out a slab of prime meat, a large hearty bass, some Hylian mushrooms, and a stick of goat butter. He paused, thinking for a moment. If just one stick of goat butter improved the flavor of a dish so much… Why not use two? Reaching into his bag, Link grabbed another stick of butter, and tossed it into the pot with the rest of the food, watching it melt and coat the meat and mushrooms, sizzling delightfully. As soon as his meal was done, Link immediately took an eager bite, too hungry to wait any longer. The flavors exploded in his mouth, coating his tongue in a rich, oily sensation. This was amazing! He scarfed down the rest of the pile of meat, seafood, and mushrooms, patting his pudgy stomach in satisfaction. Link knew one thing for sure now: he was going to have to keep trying butter in more recipes if it made them taste this good!
 
Months passed, and Link’s reputation for cooking rich, decadent meals for himself grew. Shops all over Hyrule knew to stock up on extra goat butter, as the eager Hylian hero would travel to each and every settlement just to get his fix. As his desire for egregious amounts of butter grew, so did his waistline. Link had absolutely blown up since discovering that adding more butter to his cooking made it taste even better. The Hylian man was undeniably morbidly obese, and many of the citizens of Hyrule were a little bit worried about how rapidly he had descended into obesity, but none of them felt brave enough to try and broach the subject with the rapidly-fattening hero. 
Link has taken to using his Purah Pad to teleport him directly to each town to minimize the amount of walking he had to do. For some reason he had been getting very tired even from brief walks lately, and his horse had been similarly exhausted just from short rides. Link materialized outside the shrine at Hateno Village, taking time to gather himself before the arduous walk downhill towards the general store. He somehow still didn’t realize the cause of his growing problems was the hundreds of pounds he’d packed onto his body in mere months. Link’s body was bloated with lard, to the point that he was nearing half a ton of fat on his once-lithe frame. His face was framed by a set of cherubic chipmunk cheeks, already flushed and sweaty just from a few slow, wobbling steps away from the shrine. His neck was buried under a ring of flab, graduating him from a double chin to a pronounced triple chin. His once-toned arms were replaced with bloated sacks of blubber the size of pillows, sagging down his sides and forcing his arms out at an angle even when not in use. His elbows were long buried under all of this lard, and even his wrists and hands were beginning to plump up at the joints, making bending his fingers and grabbing food a chore. His pecs had ballooned into flabby breasts that were just starting to droop down either side of his gut. The tunic he currently wore, his blue Champions Tunic that he was given over one hundred years ago, was stretched tightly across his chest, functioning more as a bra than a more decent article of clothing and riddled with rips and tears from stretching across so much flab. His former muffin top had graduated into a stack of fluffy love handles, pooling over the straight waistband of his trousers and , when combined with his flabby chest, were half of the reason his arms stuck out at such an angle now. His bloated thighs touched at every point no matter how far apart his spread his legs to walk, forcing him into a pronounced waddle. He couldn’t even bend his knees anymore; the flab from his thighs had long since enveloped the joints, joining his meaty calves in the downfall of his once-proud stride.  
His biggest asset, however, was his gut. The slab of lard was a monument to his gluttony, forming an apron of flab that sagged down to his buried knees. Every slow, measured step he took, his stomach slapped against his meaty thighs, sending his entire flabby body jiggling and wobbling endlessly. The obese hero was sweaty and exhausted after just a few steps, panting and wheezing from the exertion of shifting just under half a ton of fat with every shuffling step, but his craving for butter-soaked food kept him from giving up on his journey to the store.  
When the sweaty, huffing pile of lard finally made it, he shoved the door open with his titanic gut, dreading what came next. Link knew intimately well that doors and him didn’t mix these days, even if he refused to accept or acknowledge why. The Hylian was an absolute wall of flab and rolls, trying to force himself through a tiny doorway. The shopkeeper could only stare in horror and fascination as the legendary hero attempted to squeeze his enormous bulk into the store, wheezing from the exertion. He grabbed the doorframe with his pudgy fingers, trying to force his double-wide hips through, but his rolls and folds were firmly wedged. Link continued panting and groaning, his bulky body oozing around either side of the door frame, when an ominous cracking noise started to occur. Suddenly, with a loud snap, the wood of the doorway and the surrounding walls splintered, and Link stumbled through into the shop, his entire body wobbling from the sudden forward momentum. Barreling forward at speeds his obese form weren’t meant to handle, the lard-laden Hylian hero overbalanced, landing on his cascading gut with so much force that it shook the entire building. Merchandise clattered to the floor from the display shelves as shockwaves rippled through his body like an ocean, and he lay on the floor gasping for air after all of his weight knocked it out of his poor, overtaxed lungs. The shopkeeper looked at the damaged doorway in horror, knowing that no matter how much butter the legendary hero was here to purchase, it wouldn’t pay for the repair costs, especially with his increased visits. Something had to be done about the gluttonous hero, but what? 
After the disastrous incident at the Hateno General Store, shopkeepers around Hyrule had begun taking Link’s purchases to him as he waited outside their shops, to minimize damage done to their buildings. It was a solution, for sure, but many worried about what would happen when Link grew too large to make the short walks to their stores from the teleport points at the towns’ shrines. Many ideas were proposed: shop stalls set up right at the shrines just for Link, some sort of horse and cart system to carry the growing hero to his destinations, even a conveyor belt to carry him to the store entrances was suggested! However, Link ended up solving the problem himself while cooking one day. He’d begun using his Ultra Hand powers to help him grab ingredients once his arms became basically useless at grabbing things around his enormous bulk. As he sat on a log that his fat ass almost completely devoured, using his prosthetic’s powers to move a fourth stick of butter into the cooking pot for the large hunk of gourmet meat he was sauteeing, Link got an idea. He used his fat sausage fingers to switch the function of his hand to the Copy ability, which usually only worked for building materials. He noticed that the sticks of butter were able to be copied, somehow. Confused, Link decided to try it out, multiplying one stick of goat butter into ten, and moving the pile onto his chest where he could inspect them better. The sticks of butter had a gentle greenish-blue glow to them, but otherwise appeared to be normal sticks of butter.  
Link devoured the butter-soaked gourmet meat as he contemplated the glowing butter sticks nestled between his ample breasts when suddenly he was struck by an idea. Straining against the rolls of his arm fat, he craned his overburdened arm towards his chest, grabbing a stick of greenish butter in his fattened hands. Link brought the strange butter towards his pudgy lips slowly, his bountiful lard making it hard for him to reach his mouth with his pillowy arms. He finally shoved the stick of butter into his mouth, the oily fats coating his tongue. His blue eyes lit up as he swallowed: it was incredible! The duplicated butter tasted even richer and more delicious than normal goat butter, and that was without cooking it! Link shoved his hands under his bloated pecs, shifting their mass upwards and forcing the nine remaining sticks of magical butter directly in range of his greedy maw. The greedy Hylian began slurping down the stack of entire sticks of butter while using his Ultra Hand to create more copies, piling them up on his chest within easy eating distance. Link had no idea of the future he had just very quickly resigned himself to with this discovery, but the shopkeepers of Hyrule wouldn’t have to worry about their entryways being broken anymore. 
The citizens of Hyrule whispered about what had become of their legendary hero. Shopkeepers quickly noticed his increasingly-frequent trips to their stores had stopped abruptly, leaving them with mixed feelings of concern for what could have happened to Link, but also relieved that they wouldn’t have to keep paying for hefty repair bills anymore. Only those who were closest to Link knew where he’d ended up, and why he’d disappeared altogether. When asked by any concerned Hylians, they would simply assure them that Link was fine, comfortable, and happily retired from adventuring. 
Sidon, the newly-crowned king of Zora’s Domain, walked swiftly through the thick underbrush of a secluded forest region tucked away from any towns or roaming travelers. The red scaled Zora knew the way to go intimately, having made the journey many times over the year or so he’d been coming here in secret. Plus, it wasn’t too hard to find what he was looking for—All he had to do was follow the sounds of loud gurgling and slurping. Sidon crested the top of a hill, looking down into what had once been a lush, forested valley. The trees had long since been buried, the valley completely filled by a churning, wobbling mass of pale flab. He knew the mountainous blob below him was his most cherished partner, Link, the hero of Hyrule. 
Sidon hopped down from the forested hill, sliding on his finned feet until he landed on the soft form below. It was harder than ever to tell exactly what part of Link’s swollen body he was standing upon, but Sidon was pretty sure it was his stomach. His gigantic gut was constantly stuffed with the replicated butter that Link was somehow constantly creating more of, causing the cascading waterfall of flab to grow more and more every moment as his body worked overtime to convert the literal gallons of butter he consumed into adipose. Sidon could feel the mountainesque stomach below his feet groaning and churning, causing the blobby body of his boyfriend to always be in some sort of state of movement even after long ago losing his mobility.  
The Zora king began the long hike towards the center of Link’s growing mass, clinging desperately to whatever rolls and folds he could grab whenever a particularly strong tremor shifted the oceanic mass like tides crashing upon a shore. Sidon crested the top of Link’s stomach rolls after twenty minutes of climbing, trying to identify more parts of the blob’s body to use as landmarks. He could pretty easily find Link’s breasts due to his nipples, though they were a lot lower down than Sidon was now. Link’s tits were so huge that they’d lost all shape and form, sagging under their weight to the point that they drooped towards the lowest rolls of his gut. He could also guess where Link’s arms were from the location of his chest, gazing at the swollen pancake stacks of rolls directly above the meaty breasts. Sidon figured that Link’s hands must be buried under literal feet of flab at this point, looking at the divots where they’d long ago vanished. Even if he could unearth his fands from all of that lard, there was no way he’d be able to use them for anything aside from his Ultra Hand’s powers; his digits must be so coated in fat that they’d be barely recognizable as hands anymore.  
Once he’d figured out where Link’s useless arms were, finding his head was easy. Sidon looked at the recessed dip in the blobby mountain between the boulder-sized fat deposits that used to be Link’s biceps and forearms towards where a constant flow of glowing green liquid was manifesting and pouring downward into. Sidon swiftly scrambled over Link’s bloated cleavage, taking care not to slip; he’d once made that mistake and it took him hours to wrench his leg free from the cavernous crevasse. Once he’d crested the twin hills of lard, it was easy going from there, as Link’s chins had multiplied into a nice staircase of neck rolls. As he descended down, Sidon entered what could only be described as a cavern of fat formed by the encroaching mass of Link’s flabby jowls and collapsing back rolls. He followed the green glow of magically-duplicated butter deeper into the humid cave, the sounds of hungry slurping and desperate moans growing louder and louder. Finally, Sidon reached the end of the vast fat cave and approached his boyfriend’s bloated face eagerly.  
Link’s face was no longer recognizable, so covered in flab that no distinguishable features remained. Fat has long ago collapsed over his forehead, covering his eyes completely. His pointed ears were buried between rolls of cheek and back fat, as was his golden hair. All that remained was his mouth, though even that wasn’t enough to recognize him by. His lips had plumpened considerably, and were pinched between his engorged jowls into a permanent pout as he sucked down hundreds of gallons of melted magical butter. Sidon didn’t mind though, he loved Link no matter how fat he got. The Zora hero plopped himself down on one of Link’s cheeks, kissing his partner’s flabby face before settling down to watch him eat for a while. One thing was for sure, Link sure made a comfortable bed no matter where you laid on him now. 
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sunniques ¡ 2 days ago
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— salacious fixation
cw/tw: hoon is mean and manipulative, yandere themes, daddy kink, size kink, unprotected sex, squirting, creampie, mentions of previous rounds
minors do not interact.
Sunghoon will be the first to admit that he won’t ever fuck the same person more than two times. It’s an unofficial rule he has, and he’s been able to stick by it for so long because he gets bored so easily. He’s never met anyone who’s been able to hold his attention for longer than a week.
This all changes when he meets you.
The moment he saw you taking shots with Jake, he was done for. Sunghoon felt like a creep for watching you all night, but he was physically unable to look away. Everything about you fascinated him. That night, he was only able to exchange a few words with you, but at the very least he was able to learn your name.
Getting to know you isn’t as easy as Sunghoon hoped. For some reason, you kept an annoying amount of distance from him. You always remained polite and cordial—sweet, even. Yet you always pulled away before he could get too close. It drove him insane and made his fixation more intense.
Finally, Jake let it slip one day that you disregarded him so much because one of your friends had a huge crush on him. Apparently you were a girls girl, or whatever. If Sunghoon were anyone else, he might’ve respected that. But he didn’t. At all.
It’s easy to get your friend to invite him over when you just happen to be hanging out with her. Because your friend is so infatuated with him, she’s quick to let him crash what was meant to be a girl’s night. Sunghoon can tell you’re not happy about it, but as always, you play the part of a sweet angel who goes with the flow.
It makes getting you alone that much easier.
“You’re leaving?” You exclaim, feeling your face heat up when you realize how loud your voice got.
“I’m just going to get some drinks,” your friend assured you, not at all concerned that she’s leaving you alone with her very hot crush. “I know you’re shy, but I won’t take a long time.”
You wonder why Sunghoon can’t go with her, or why she won’t let you leave so you don’t have to be a third wheel. Either way, she makes you promise to stay until she comes back, and you foolishly agree. After all, the liquor store is only thirty minutes away, and she assures you that she’ll be back quickly.
It turns out, it only took ten minutes for Sunghoon to have you naked and spread out on your friend’s bed. You feel like such a nasty slut, but somehow that just turns you on more.
According to Sunghoon, everything would’ve been so much easier if you gave into him from the beginning. Of course, it’s way too late for any of that now. He’s going to have to ruin all of your pretty little holes until he gets you out of his system.
At least, that’s what he thinks until he sinks his aching cock into your needy cunt. Once Sunghoon feels how tightly you’re gripping him, he knows he won’t ever be able to get enough. He’s so nasty, and it shouldn’t get you as wet as it does. However, all of your rational thoughts were shoved to the back of your mind after your pussy got creampied.
“F-Fuck!”
Your wanton cry is loud, rivaling the lewd squelching and skin slapping filling the room. Tears of pleasure stream down your face as Sunghoon fucks his huge, girthy cock into your tight pussy. Your mixed releases are pushed out of your cunt with every rough thrust and drip onto your friend’s bed, but her hot crush is far from done with you.
“S-Sunghoon, please!” You beg through your tears. “More!”
“Who?”
He sounds so mean and ravenous, but that only turns you on more. Your pussy tightens around him as you stain his cock with more of your cream. No one has ever fucked you so roughly before, but you love every second of it.
“Daddy, please!” You mewl into the mattress, face burning at the name he insisted you call him. “Fuck me harder!”
Sunghoon smirks as his large hands grip your ass to spread you open for him. You feel so hot and tight around him that he never wants to stop fucking you. After this, he’ll keep using you over and over until you’ve milked every last drop of cum from his balls.
“God, you’re fucking needy,” his grip is bruising. “Bet you love daddy stretching out this tiny little cunt, huh?”
You nod even though it feels like he’s splitting you in half. It hurts so good, and you know that you wouldn’t stop even if your friend were to walk in on you two right at this very second.
“Can’t believe this cute little pussy is taking my cock,” Sunghoon groans as he helps you bounce back on him. “Thought I’d need to train you a little more. Guess you were just desperate for some cock.”
You moan into the sheets, too fucked out to care about anything except the cock drilling into you and the hot guy it’s attached to.
“You’re so pretty, angel,” Sunghoon coos as his heavy balls slap against your pulsing clit. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”
Sunghoon groans in satisfaction when you squirt all over his cock. He licks his lips as his hips start to snap. You’re a fucked out mess underneath him, trembling on his cock from absolute pleasure.
“That’s it, baby. Get your friend’s sheets all dirty. Filthy fucking girl.”
All you can do is moan like a slut as Sunghoon fuck you like you’re his personal fucktoy. Part of you wants to finish before your friend gets back, but the other part never wants him to stop. Any guilt you felt has melted away. In a way, this was all her fault for not letting you leave when you first wanted to.
“Fuck. I’m gonna cum again,” Sunghoon roughly kneads your ass before he roughly slaps it. You jolt and cry out. “You want that, baby? Want me to fill this tight little cunt?”
“Yes, daddy!” You moan, as you deepen your arch. “Cum in my slutty little pussy. Want it so bad!”
With those needy words, Sunghoon shoots his hot spunk inside you. The loud moans you let out can be heard by your friend as she unlocks the door to her apartment, but Sunghoon only encourages those pretty noises as he fucks his cum deeper into your pussy.
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lilacgaby ¡ 2 days ago
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‧₊˚truth bomb!‧₊˚
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getting hit by a truth quirk? not so fun. dealing with it while having a huge crush on bakugo katsuki? even worse.
- ჌pairing. 3rdyear!katsuki x reader. tags. friends to lovers, truth telling quirk, wingmen, kissing scenes, confessions, fighting, miscommunication trope, U-A girls love you, she/her pronoun use, fem!reader, earthquirk!reader. wc. 8k
- ჌note. i win the slowest writer ever award! anyways, i wrote this in chapter form here, this is a rework of my first work ever, and i completely changed the plot for anyone who might have read itt
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this wasn't how your mission was supposed to go.
the thought ran through your head as you resisted the urge to bang your head against the concrete. that fate would probably be better than whatever you'd face having to confess, out of your will, to your longtime crush, katsuki.
but, the day started out normal enough. you were on a patrol, randomly scheduled as all your patrols usually were because of your mentor, mirko. she lacked the traditional agency and took missions as she pleased, which meant you'd usually be along for the ride.
which entailed things like this, walking boredly along the streets, running your fingers along metal pipes, trying to find something- anything to quench your eternal boredom.
it didn't work though.
you finally groaned, rolling your eyes as you looked at mirko, who seemed oddly determined. “we've been walking in this place for like– what? an hour? it's so boring!” you kicked a rock, making it clash against a random trash can.
“a deserted town is perfect, it's exactly what an up and coming villain group would want to start up. think before you speak for once.” she chided, not even looking over at you as she continued walking forth. “anyways, you should be able to feel it, can't you? they're close.”
sure enough, you could. the vibrations of their movement, the reverberation of their voices bouncing off the walls of the random alleyway of where you two stood felt as you focused your stance.
they were close. you sighed, though now of relief that you'd finally be able to beat them and get out of here as soon as you can, you stretched your hands and fingers, getting ready to manipulate the ground below you. “well then what are you waiting for? let's go!”
mirko nodded, and wordlessly followed you as you two positioned yourselves on a rooftop above the rowdy group of villains. they were laughing heartily, seemingly unaware and full of glee as they continued down the city streets. the sun was coming down, golden sunlight illuminating your figure as you closed your eyes and focused in on their positions, trusting your quirk more than your vision.
you stomped lightly and closed your eyes, feeling their positions out perfectly, as well as mirko’s readied stance beside you. nobody was around for miles, on the ground at least, so you focused in to hear their words.
mocking cries of innocent civilians left the mouth of the biggest one. “oh, please don't hurt me!” he cried, a fake squeaky voice cut off by his laughter. “oh man, what a pathetic excuse for a human.”
“fleeting the town completely in what? two days? we're the shit man.” another replied, high-fiving amongst themselves as they snickered and giggled.
they held bags of money and prized belongings in their grasps, smirks and sneers as they lugged them down the city. the one they seemed to think they ‘owned’ now that the civilians fled to safety. one that they were making a mess of.
you felt mirko’s figure, the growing hostility in her stance. the balling of her fist and her legs that were ready to pounce at any given moment.
“i'm all clear.” you whispered. “on your call, i'm ready.”
you could even feel the twitch of her ears, the wind blowing a spare leaf of the ground, but most importantly,
you felt the millisecond where she lowered to jump.
in response you launched the ground underneath you with a flick of the hand, landing yourself perfectly next to mirko. she held out a fist to the group, who jumped at the sight of you two.
“listen up losers!” she began, pointing a daunting finger at the biggest of the group, who had a literal screw growing out the base of his neck. a shiver went down your spine at the sight. “you can beg for forgiveness now, or later! which is it?”
a moment of silence passed, before one of them declared, “how about never? attack!”
half of the group focused on mirko, while the others were now facing you. you sighed, fixing yourself in a relaxed stance, before swiftly punching up to launch chucks of rock and steel out of the ground, into the bodies of the offending men coming towards you.
a few of them dodged, making you repeat the same attack again, since you really didn't feel like going full strength for villains at this level. your eyebrows furrowed as you realized one of them had taken the opportunity to make a break for it, but ignored it for now as the final guy stood against you.
mirko stole your spotlight though, landing a kick in his hand that rendered him unconscious.
“hey. i called dibs.” you whined, before walking over to her. “alls fair in love and war.” she said, before pointing to the almost comically large bags of money and jewelry. “we need to clean these up and get these guys locked up. round up the bags and i'll get the corpses– uh. bodies.”
with a reassuring smirk, she threw around the bodies into a pile, making you wince at the sound of their groans. you went to move all the money and things into an area for the collection agency.
you moved a bag or two, onto your third bag when a sound was suddenly heard behind you. “freeze.”
an unconfident, shaky, and out of breath voice filled your ears. you froze, not knowing who it was.
“n-now turn around. slowly.” he ordered. you did as he said, noting that his hand was pointing towards you in a handgun motion. the tips of his fingers were glowing a strange light green color. “o-okay. you’re gonna leave all the money there, just for me. okay lady?”
you shrugged, looking back at your work. “i mean, that was the plan anyways. a collection agency is gonna come for you and your friends soo–.”
“no, they're not.” he cut you off with a snarl. “i don't think i gave you permission to talk.”
“but you're still talking to me anyways!”
“why you– teenage brats are the worst. i tried not to kill kids, but you're annoying.” the green light emitted even brighter.
“bye.” the ray was about to shoot at you. you didn't have time to block, but mirko last minute shoved the guy to the ground.
his hand still managed a shot, though with his arm up in the air, it moved from being aimed to your heart, to..
shooting towards your mouth.
you didn't dodge in time, not expecting to get shot in your mouth of all places.
it didn't hurt, but it did feel tingly. the guy was slammed to the ground, his face flat with the floor as your hands shot up to feel the skin around your mouth.
you were.. fine?
“hey!” mirko cut off your thoughts. “you okay? what did he do to you? fuck i should've been quicker.”
“i'm fine. honestly you should have been quicker, i was really stalling here.”
“oh.. well im glad to hear you're fine at least.”
“you heard that??” you were shocked to hear her response, you only meant to say that mentally. you really were just going to say it was fine like always, so why..
why wasn't your mouth listening to you?
“no. like you don't understand mirko, i didn't mean to say that-”
“we all slip up sometimes.”
“no. like, it left my mouth before i realized it.”
her eyes widened, before thumping on the guys head below her. “hey you. what exactly did you do to her? huh?”
at no response, she wacked him against the ground again. “hellooo? i'll do it as many times as i need to-”
“no! please, fine fuck- i'll tell you!”
the collection agency finally was heard in the distance. mirko glared. “talk. fast.”
“okay, okay!” the man was once again shaking. “my quirk is enhancements, but I control how exactly it enhances the body–”
“i didn't ask for a life story. get to the point.”
“well! i wanted to aim for the heart and enhance heart rate, which would of killed her! but– um. i accident aimed for her mouth, and enhanced.. honesty.”
“i see. for how long will it be?”
“uh.. a week i think.”
“huh, why would you become a villain with a quirk like yours anyways? final question before you're shipped off to jail.”
“well, i wanted to bring out the best in the worst, to show that even we villains can triumph!”
“..okay.” she left him on the ground and walked away with you by her side. you were heading back to the U-A dorms to drop you off.
“so, you can't lie to me, huh?”
“nope.” your answer left you before you could process it, like a mental disconnection between your actions. “don't do that, it isn't funny!”
she raised her hands up defensively. “okay, okay. i won't.”
…
“so am i your favorite hero or what?”
“yes.”
“really? since when?” she chided.
“since your debut, i was a hardcore fan for a long time.”
“was?”
“learning the real you killed the rose-tint in my glasses.”
“oh..” she put a hand over her heart. “ouch?”
“you wanted the truth.” you sneered. which wasn't really the right choice at this point, since she took that as liberty to start questioning your every move.
the worst 20 questions of your life was played as you walked home, your legs burning with ache of exhaustion was nothing over the mental anguish of being around a happy-go-lucky mirko.
you finally made it, the dorms in view as she decided to ask you one final question.
“so, my darling apprentice [name]. got any more ideas for questions?”
“no! so stop asking them!”
“you're no fun. hmm, let's see. oh! do you have a crush?”
don't say it, you repeated mentally in your mind, but you felt the oddly numb sensation of the answer leaving you.
“bakugo katsuki.”
her eyes widened and jaw went slack. “seriously? i thought i raised you better.” she joked, poking your side as you went to cover your face with your hands.
the church bells welcomed you as the golden staircase was opened from the clouds. step by step you took, angels singing and a halo over your head as you were greeted by loved ones past–
but your peaceful departure wasn't peaceful for very long.
“well, as long as you're happy [name]. i'll be going now, text me!”
she walked off with a smile that made you feel sick, but you couldn't resist the urge to wave goodbye anyways.
you leant up against the gate of the opening, your arms basically clung around the pillar. catching your breath as you prepared yourself for a week of hiding, of intense planning around your crush–
“hey, you okay weirdo?”
the voice of said crush filled your ears, making you realize that it indeed can always get worse.
“no, i'm not okay.” she said, letting go of the pillar and shakily standing on two feet, feeling like a fawn standing for the first time.
his eyebrows raised like he didn't expect you to say that, his mouth hung open for a second, before he decided to just retort. “oh, sucks to be you then.”
“yes, yes it does.” you say of your own will, dragging a hand longly against your face.
face-to-face with him, the guy you'd randomly became close with over the years, the one that you'd harbored and now openly spoke of your crush on, and the one who you shared an affinity for romance manga with.
“are ya ever g’nna get up properly? or you just gonna stare like a dumbass?” he asked, which made you answer begrudgingly.
“everyone who falls has to get up, unless they're dead.
…
but uh– don't wait on me!”
“...right.” he shrugged, moving back towards the door to walk inside. acting off after a mission wasn't anything crazy after all, they all had weird days. at least that's how he rationalized it.
“oh, and i borrowed some shit from your room. i'll give it you tomorrow.”
“be gentle!”
“whatever.” he closed the door after him, leaving your with your thoughts alone. after the sun had fully left you alone, you decided to bite the bullet and just go inside. taking a deep breath, you walked in, trying your best to just make it to your room.
mina came up to you, a pint of ice cream in her hand. “[name]! you're back! how was it?”
“bad.” you answered, wordlessly asking for a bit of her ice cream.
she gave it to you, before joining you as you walked up the stairs. “wanna talk about it?”
“not really, but it'll be forced out of me.”
“what??”
you sighed, explaining what happened to you in between bites of your ice cream. “truth quirk. talk too much. can't shut up.”
mina made an ‘o’ shape with her lips, pondering it over mentally. “but it's not like you're a crazy liar, what's the big problem?”
“my crush on katsuki. i'm so scared that i'm gonna accidentally be forced to confess because of this.” you admitted.
mina, thankfully didn't overreact. for a second. until she smiled gleefully and shoved you into your room. “wait here, i got something for you.”
she left you with the pint of ice cream, your favorite flavor, which kept you good company until she came back with the girls of the class.
“i hope you don't mind.. well it's too bad if you do, because i told them all already. whoops!” she said, leading them all in and shutting the door.
“so, you're finally confessing?” momo asked, making you almost choke.
“no! this is against my will! i'd never confess in my life! the embarrassment of getting rejected is something i couldn't recover from.”
“really? i mean- i think it's pretty obvious the two of you have something special. ribbit.” tsuyu added, looking up at the ceiling of your dorm thoughtfully. “well, its not like you have a choice now. might as well just do it.” jirou shrugged.
“if you're here to make fun of me you can just leave!” you whined into your hands. “im already making myself miserable just fine!”
the girls exchanged glances, before they sighed. uraraka started, “[name] we were here to try and encourage you to do it out of your own will, but if you really don't want to.. we can help.”
“help? like how?”
mina jumped, “by making sure you don't accidentally confess of course!”
“but it won't be easy.” yaoyorozu chimed in, “we'll have to plan this out well, it's a week isn't it?”
“a week from today.. that's saturday.”
“okay guys, let's do this for [name]!” mina cheered, placing her hand in the middle of the group. the other girls all moved to place their hands on top of hers, and waited for you to finish it off.
“come on!” uraraka encouraged, making you sigh and place your hand on the top.
as you raised your hand on the count of three, hearing their cheers and hopes in encouragement for you and for their plan, you felt a bit of hope that it just might turn out alright.
they shuffled out afterwards, patting you on the back and making tiny promises as they moved out. with a final wink from mina and a whispered, “good night [name], i promise everything will work out!” they were gone.
as you laid in your bed, staring at the ceiling that never changed no matter what did in your life, you allowed yourself to rest.
7 days to go.
when will this end? you thought, all the optimism from yesterday ripped from you.
insomnia arose from the anxiety that implanted a pit of dread in your stomach, it didn't let you sleep, no matter how sleepy you had gotten.
horrible scenarios played one after one, like a record player made of your nightmares. what if he rejected you in front of your school? no, what if he has a secret girlfriend and you look like a total homewrecker for confessing?
or even worse, what if he doesn't like women at all and you missed all the signs?
you squealed into a pillow, trying to escape your sorrows as you realized,
you were probably just hungry for some actual food. when was the last time you ate properly? who knows.
you slipped on house slippers and made your way down the stairs to the kitchen. you prepared a pot of chai, greeting iida and other early risers who were up out of instinct, since it's a sunday.
yawning, you scroll mindlessly on your phone while you wait for your tea to finish. a familiar voice takes you out of your bubble.
“yo.” is all he says, sliding by you by causally placing a hand on your waist, letting go only a second later.
“uh.. hey. want some tea?” you managed, ignoring the spiraling of your soul as you were met by the close proximity of his face. “yeah, sounds cool.”
you pour him a glass, letting him put the sugar in by himself as you fix one for yourself too. he looks to see if anyone was in earshot of the two of you, before whispering into your ear.
“did you see when usui jumped off the building for misa?”
“yes. its one of my favorite scenes!” you answer before you realize it, but you're slowly starting to get used to the feeling of it. “i mean, he's so cool for that.”
“yeah, but his legs would be fucked. or he'd be paralyzed for life after that fall. would've been an easy choice to make him break a leg and have ‘er take care of him.”
“but isn't that so predictable? it's better to take a unique route-”
“no spoilers.”
“it's not really a spoiler though! man, i really loved that scene. i think it's my favorite.”
“why?” he asked, an odd tonal shift in his voice.”
“i like usui.”
“no, like. do you imagine someone doing that to you?” he was close, way to close. your mouth was opening, your answer was so clear to you, it was about to be ruined, until–
“oh [name]! may i have some of your tea please?” yaoyarozu saved the day. you thanked her mentally, getting her a glass and smiling at her small wink. she hung close by, you didn't notice before, but she was within earshot.
“anyways, what were we talking about katsuki?”
“..'s nothing. see ya.”
he left her there, knees weak in worry or affection? both probably. she mouthed a thank you to momo, before going back up to her dorm to get ready for the day.
sunday, not much to do thankfully. you decided to hang out in your room for a while, drawing and relaxing, managing to catch up on a couple hours of sleep as you tried to avoid katsuki as much as possible.
though, even in this brief moment where you were attempting to avoid him, you couldn't help but notice that he tended to come to you first.
greetings and conversations started by him, fleeting touches initiated by him, small nods in the hallways of the dorms given by him, and even-
a text message left by him, asking if he could come to your dorm for just a moment. for the books.
you wondered now if he was solely coming for that reason.. could there be an off chance he was coming for you?
..no. no way, you thought. you brushed it off, and opted to make it seem like the girls were already in your room, just so you wouldn't be alone with him. can't take chances anymore.
you texted the girls the news, and the ones who weren't at the mall or busy came to see you, leaving uraraka, tsuyu, and hagakure.
you welcomed them in, “thanks for coming guys. we can actually paint each others nails since we're already here?”
they all nodded with excitement, you pulled out the limited colors you had, though they were all your favorites. they began to paint each other’s nails, while you finally texted him back. telling him to come, but that the others were here too. he only reacted with a thumbs up.
“what did he say?” tsuyu asked.
“oh, he just responded with a thumbs up.” like you summoned him, a knock was heard at the door. you went to open it, making the girls laugh quietly behind their hands. greeting you was the sight of katsuki in his usual baggy attire holding two bags of books from what you could see. you stepped outside of your room, the door behind you. “hi katsuki.”
“hey– uh, [name].” he greeted. he held up a bag and handed it to you. “thanks for um.. lending it to me.” a hand naturally went towards the back of his head, rubbing it as he averted his eyes away from you.
he waited for you to set the bag down inside the room, before holding out the second one to you.
“what's this?” you asked, accepting it as you looked into red eyes.
“well– it's some of my collection. you haven't read it before, it's so we could talk about it. or something.”
a soft smile overcame you. “i think i'd like that.”
hagakure made a casual remark, they'd been eavesdropping from behind the door, muffled remarks not quite coherent enough to be a worry. but one question had managed to reach your and his ears.
“they're so cute together! aren't they literally dating?”
his face tinged pink, but you knew you'd say your thoughts.
“i wish.”
his face looked incredulous, as if he couldn't believe you just said that. “wait- what did you just–”
but before he could finish the question that would seal your fate, the door was opened quickly behind you, uraraka placing a hand over your mouth before smiling nervously. “um, she's not in her right mind today bakugo! don't mind her.”
his eyebrow raised. “really? why?”
“because.. it's that time of the month?” she managed, making him reel back and look apologetic. “oh. ill be.. going now then. bye.” you two waved him goodbye.
he left quickly, leaving his books next to the door as he speed walked away.
you were conflicted, not knowing whether to glare at or thank uraraka, but you closed the door behind you anyways.
“are you guys serious?”
“sorry!” hagakure pleaded. “i didn't think you two could hear me, the door wasn't closed all the way!”
“i mean, we were kind of close-”
“guys! all that matters is that i fixed it!”
“what do you mean fixed it?” you cut in. “you told him im out of my mind right now.”
“it'll be okay, he likes you too much to hold it against you.” she waved it off with a smile, and held your shoulders gently. “what you really should
he worried about is school. missions come at the end of the week, but how are you gonna deal with monday through wednesday?”
“i feel like you're changing the subject. and i'm going to avoid him. easy as pie.”
they all glanced at eachother, then back at you. “sure [name]. whatever you say.”
they all bid their goodbyes soon after, hagakure still apologizing profusely as the other two patted themselves on the back for speedy thinking.
the door shut and once again you were left to plan, only this time you managed a good night's sleep.
your life wasn't completely over, at least.
you dreaded the next three days. thursday and friday were safe for you, the only person you'd have to deal with being mirko since agencies tended to schedule students at the end of the week.
you woke up and prepared yourself. it was alright eight, so you'd only have an hour before heading to school.
you'd showered and changed, fixed your hair and fixed your bag.
unfortunately, katsuki is a really good guy.
a good friend, caring too. thats why you were startled by the sight of him at your door. you didn't have time to prepare, no time to call your backup or report, because he caught you right as many of the girls just woke up.
you were still rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you looked up at him, “katsuki?”
he held a bag in his hand, something that was oddly reoccurring lately. “hey, about your 'time of the month’ shit.” he placed the bag safely in your arms, and averted his eyes from you once again.
“i brought you some stuff i thought might help, since we got class today.”
“really? you shouldn't have.” you peeked in the top, seeing a stuffed animal, chocolates, a heating pad, and some ice packs.
he sighed, almost dreamily. “i wanted to. i hope you stop feeling so fucked.” a beat passes, his eyebrows scrunched as if he wants to say something more, but he chooses not to.
“see ya.” with that, he left you alone with a warm feeling spreading throughout your chest. the pink bag gripped tightly in your hands and set gently onto your desk.
the warm feeling was soon gone, replaced with a feeling of guilt. guilt for basically ignoring him.
you slumped onto your desk in the middle of the class, scribbling down notes like there was no tomorrow, taking sips of a drink you enjoyed while ignoring the growing ache in your wrist.
mr. aizawa was just going over the basics of hero courtesy again, a refresher for your on hand experience at the end of the week. you really didn't need to take notes, but you found it got your mind off the red eyes you felt looking at the back of your head.
you were almost tempted to look back, almost. but with a determination that rivaled even midoriya’s, you just kept going.
finally, the lunch bell rang. you got up and stretched, everyone got their bearings and followed suit. they all piled out, leaving you as the last one there, though you couldn't help but notice a lingering gaze stare at you, before he finally followed suit and left the classroom.
you stood there, trying to figure out what you should do for lunch, when a ‘ahem’ brought you out of your thoughts.
“[name]. i appreciate your hard work in class and all, but id like to nap this period.” mr aizawa said gruffly.
“oh! sorry! i was just leaving.” you grabbed your lunchbox and ran out the room.
now came the issue of figuring out where to sit.
it was no secret to anyone that you and katsuki would usually spend the entire lunch period on the roof together most days, you'd even go up there by yourself on days he wasn't here.
so to be in the cafeteria again was a bit unnerving for you, but you took a spot besides jirou and got out the lunch you made.
she seemed surprised to see you, but then remembered why you were here. “it's cool to see you down here [name]. you're only ever up on the rooftop making out with your boyfriend.”
“we don't even make out. and he's not my boyfriend!”
“sure. that's why he's staring over here right now. and he stares at you in class too, does he ever get tired?”
“i don't know, why are you asking me like i know him in and out?”
“okay, let's just calm down you two.” momo cut in. “[name], happy to see you.”
you nodded, “yeah? i'm happy to see you too.”
you tried your best to ignore katsuki’s eyes boring into your soul, but you accidentally glanced over at him, quickly averting your eyes away.
you finished your lunch quickly, moving to be in between jirou and momo much to their dismay. you really just wanted this day to be over.
going back to class you rested your head against the table, only participating when you actively had to. you just felt so guilty about ignore him, especially after what he did for you this morning.
you realized just how much of your day you spent with him, because when it came time to walk back to the dorm, you felt alone for the first time in months even.
he'd always been by your side, maybe even offering to go out for a small treat with you, you felt the lack of his presence like a withdrawal.
you did everything you could just to avoid him in the halls, basically even running away at one point. everyone knew now of how weird you had been acting, but it wasn't really your fault, you had a master plan to enact!
the next day was just like the last, keeping your head down and turned completely away from katsuki, turning the opposite direction when you'd so much as see his hair, partnering with someone else just so you wouldn't get stuck with him.
going home to eat dinner in your room, ignoring his texts altogether. he even called you at one point.
you shoved a pillow over your head, though it didn't serve to silence the voices screaming at you that it wasn't fair what you were doing to him, that you should man up and just confess already.
but what you didn't expect was for him to take it into his own hands.
wednesday started easily enough, same way as the last two. silly for you to think you could go 3/3, no problems encountered.
you were walking in the halls, choosing the lower floors you knew he wouldn't be in, trotting down to the cafeteria to third wheel momo and jirou.
you were almost there, when you were suddenly pulled into a vacant classroom by the hand. a hand that you'd felt many times against yours, but never with so much intent behind it.
there stood katsuki in front of you, eyes low and waiting as he looked you over.
“[name].” he started, still holding on to your hand. “we need to talk.”
“talk. about what exactly?”
“you know what. you've been ignoring me.” he let go of your hand, crossing them into his chest as he looked you over. “did.. i do something wrong?”
“what? no! it's me!”
“you?”
“yes, it's me. not you. well i mean it is you, but not like that!”
“it's my fault?”
“yes– wait no. yes and no? listen-”
“so, you're ignoring me?” he stepped closer to you, eye contact fierce as you could see the mixed emotions in his eyes. betrayal, even.. insecurity.
“yes. well, i mean i don't– you don't understand!” you tried to reason, but he scoffed.
“save it. i know when im not wanted.”
“katsuki! no-” you grabbed his hand before you even realized it, pulling him closer to you.
“i..” your brain was screaming at you to just admit it now before you would do so accidentally, but..
you couldn't.
“i can't tell you why right now, but it's not what you think.”
his eyes rolled, he took his hand out of yours forcibly. “i don't think i even want to hear that shit. shove it.”
with his hands now shoved in his pocket, he left you alone in that classroom. you walked to the table with wide eyes, never thinking you'd ever miss the feeling of being watched, but admittedly you grew used to it.
you acted that way out of fear of rejection, but did you just get rejected anyways? you hit your head against the lunch table in frustration.
“i'm an idiot.” you muttered, muffled by the material of the tables below. momo patted you on the back.
“i mean, i called it.” jirou said, taking a bite out of her food. “no way this was ever gonna work out.”
“it really wasn't the best idea [name]..” momo finally agreed, still soothing your back. “i mean, there was better ways of going about this. you just ended up pushing him away.”
“i know that now. ugh!”
“it's not too late, there's only what? three days left? you can make it up to him on saturday.”
“it's too late, i'm ruined.”
“right..”
you don't remember the rest of the conversation. you didn't remember even walking up to class, or walking out of it to your dorm. you were in a state of mourning, dreading ever seeing him again. at least for the next two days you wouldn't.
that was the only thought that could let you sleep peacefully, but it made you wake up early regardless.
sulking as you got ready in your hero outfit, walking slowly to the train station with a bag you packed the week prior. mirko texted you the location in tokyo where you'd meet up this week, standing on one of the sides of the train station that seemed pretty busy today.
as the train came to a stop in front of you, you noticed that when the door opened, a familiar face was on the other side.
katsuki.
your eyes widened and looked away from his as you shuffled in, all the seats were full to you hanged onto the bar.
you didn't look at him, though you were jealous at the fact that he got a seat and you didn't. you sulked internally, feeling your knees buckle at not only your exhaustion, but the proximity to him.
there was only a small space next to him now, the kid who'd been next to him getting off at this stop. you eyed it, and he noticed, sighing and gently pulling you towards him.
you were shoved against him, though he said nothing to you.
“kat–”
“it's nothing. don't think about it.”
he barely spared you a glance, though you felt you deserved it now. you sighed, instinctually leaning a head on his shoulder and dozing off. he didn't move you off of him.
you felt him lay his head on yours, the music from his outdated wired headphones leaking into your ear as you took a nap.
the time felt like nothing as you laid there, feeling like only a split second when you felt katsuki shaking you. “yo, [name]. wake up.” he called to you. your eyes fluttered open, squinting at the fluorescent bright lights of the train.
“hm?” you mumbled, moving off of him to get up.
“we're at our station. or mine at least.” he slung his bag around his shoulder.
“oh, this is mine too. coincidence.”
“yeah.”
at the news he grabbed your bag and held it. he waited for you to stretch you legs and neck, before walking beside you. “so, where are ya going?”
“to mirko.”
“duh, i know that. but what is she doing in tokyo of all places?”
“oh, she just tells me places to go and i get there day of. she can't tell me anything, i think it's confidential?”
“mhm. well i'll walk you to your shit, i'm a future number one hero, not an asshole.
“well..”
“then walk by yourself.” he threw your bag at you, walking faster and leaving you a bit behind.
“no, wait!”
you chased after him, and kept by his side. no matter which direction you turned, it was the same way he was going. until you finally just look at the address, and sure enough..
mirko decided to work at best jeanist’s agency.
you felt a mix of emotions wash over you. annoyance, dread, anger.
“what's up?”
“mirko chose to work with best jeanist.”
“what?”
“i know.”
“she only did it to piss me off. ugh!” she kicked a can in the alleyway. they were in eyeshot of the huge agency.
“really, why would she even do that?”
“because of you.” a hand slapped over your mouth.
“me? really?” you could hear the smirk on his face, he waltzed over to you. you were nearing the entrance now, only a staircase keeping you alone with him. you could even see the familiar white ears of your now enemy.
“what?
do you have a crush on me or something?” it was just a joke, you could hear it in his cocky demeanor.
but that didn't stop the hands that shot off your face involuntarily, as you let out a meek. “yes.”
the smile was wiped off of his face now, shock filling his expression. you ran into the doors, standing beside a mirko who greeted you warmly. a hand reaching out to grab you was now left in the air.
it felt like the air had left his lungs too.
because it turns out his feelings were reciprocal after all.
the meeting would start in a small moment, that's what the receptionist told you as you stood next to mirko, who you pulled aside to talk to.
placing your hands on either side of her shoulders, you let her have it.
“mirko, why would you choose to work here of all places?”
“i wanted to play wingman for my favorite partner. sue me.”
“but– this is making everything worse! why couldn't you have just done this in a week! or better yet- never!” you cried, stomping a foot on the floor. “
i didn't want or need any help- any now i'll have to spend tomorrow on some awkward random patrol!”
“it won't be so awkward, remember that me and that best jeanist guy will be there too.”
“like, third-wheeling? thanks a lot. that really helps me feel better.”
“think nothing of it. anyways, this is for the better. i caught wind of you and the girls’ plan. it really sucked. maybe my plan will end up working. you never know.”
“so? and what if it doesn't?”
“then what? you already got rejected didn't you?”
“yes.” a beat passed, your glare only getting stronger. “you're so annoying.”
“you love me though, anyways it's time.” she grabs your hand and guides you to the meeting room. you're sat right next to katsuki, though you do your best not to look at him. it's awkward enough just thinking about how you'd even salvage the relationship you had before, so you try not to.
you realize way too late that you'd managed to zone out through the entire mission. the map displayed virtually might as well had been in another language, the suspects and victims melting into each other, the objectives not clear.
the only notable thing to you was a random, large red circle over a part of the city. but besides that you had no idea what was going on, and based on the look on mirko’s face, listening along was vital.
you brushed it off. not thinking that it was that important, and your instincts hadn't failed you that horrifically yet.
you exited the room besides mirko, who had gotten the two of you a hotel for the two nights you were staying here. a penthouse suite awaited you. you would've been more thankful, if not for her betrayal of you earlier.
the night was swift, faster than you wanted it to be. you found yourself already in your hero outfit at the crack of dawn, trudging alongside mirko.
one word described the streets. busy, full of life. something you weren't really used to.
stealth missions and random outposts were where you were usually sent, nobody seen for ages. so maybe you should have spent a bit more time paying attention to the mission debrief..
“is it always like this?” you questioned to bakugo, who stood right next to you.
“what do you mean?”
“like. busy.”
“oh, yeah it is. always pretty boring though. no smart villain would make an attack with so many people around. at least one hero would be stationed over here.”
“guess you're right.”
“i know i am.”
and he was proven right. the side of town you two were stationed to, seperate from mirko and jeanist, was completely fine.
the only thing you two had done the whole day was save a cat out of a tree, handing it to a little girl who looked up at you with stars in her eyes as you did.
it was afternoon now, and your shift was officially over. you slumped against a wall dramatically, slipping down onto the floor as you breathed a sigh of relief.
katsuki sat next to you, a close proximity between you two not foreign usually, though with the weird back and forth that had been going on thus far, it was nice to know he still considered you to be close.
“‘m fucking hungry.” he finally said, making you laugh. “that's what you're thinking of right now?”
“no. not really.”
“well, then what is it?”
“it's you, [name].”
he takes a breath. “let me talk, okay.” he moved to face you, and at your nod, he continued.
“you confuse me. for years we've gotten close, comfortable. but all of a sudden you avoided me like the plague. i hated it.” his face changes with a mixture of emotions.
“i.. i really fucking like you. and i'm confused as if you feel the same way, you seemed pissed to even be with me right now so. it's just odd. you're acting odd.
because sometimes you're like fucking into me. you even brought me lunch at some point. and now with the ignoring me bullshit? i just don't get it.” he dropped his shoulders, eyes widening slightly.
“so do you like me or not? or should i just leave you the fuck alone?”
“yes and no.”
his face scrunched up in confusion. “so-”
“ugh! just shut up! i like you- okay? is that what you wanted to hear?”
“yes, actually.” he breathed a sigh of relief, a joking hand laid over his chest. “you're confusing.”
“i know.”
“you're close.”
“i mean you sat here-”
“can i kiss you?”
a crack of sunlight dawned through the small corridor, illuminating his eyes, and to him your body. you knew what you'd say for yourself, but you didn't mind this time.
because it's what you truly wanted.
“i thought you'd never ask.”
you felt his lips on yours in an instant, his arms wrapping around your lower back and caging you into him, the buzzing of your phone going unnoticed as he tilted his head against yours.
breathless. the only real word you could use to describe how you felt right now, after having pulled away.
you didn't have a chance to wipe your lip gloss off his face, not before mirko and jeanist stood behind you two, her hands on her hips as a smirk came over her face.
“i see someone was having fun.”
oh right. the mission..
“not like it matters anymore, but we caught the villains. i texted you about it, but when you didn't respond jeanist over here told us to come
quickly.”
she gestured over to a face-palming jeanist, who only said, “it seems you two had more pressing matters to deal with.” katsuki wiped the lip gloss off his lips, wincing at the sticky feeling left on his face.
mirko snorted, while you hung your head in embarrassment, and katsuki looked away from the two of them.
“you know what? stay out as long as you two lovebirds would like. i'll cover for the two of you.”
“what? really?”
she winked at you, and mouthed “wingman”, before turning to leave. “if you're really questioning me, i'll just not let you g-”
katsuki cut her off. “it's cool. thanks, see you losers.” he grabbed your hand, pulling you effortlessly off the ground, a bit into his chest as he led you to start walking off.
“'got somewhere cool to show ya’.” is all he said, before taking you to a restaurant he frequented, or so he told you. he ordered the spiciest plate, and you chose one to your preference. you got a dessert, he skipped out though because of his disdain for them.
“katsuki, i really should tell you something.”
“go ahead.”
it was your turn now to breath, looking up at the ceiling and shutting your eyes as you blurted out, “i was hit by a truth quirk, i avoided you because i was scared to confess to you, and now i feel guilty.”
no sound was heard other than the clacking of utensils and movement in the background, you opened your eyes to see a bakugo who looked as if he was holding in his laugh.
“seriously? that was it?” you could hear the smile in his voice, his hand moved to cover his mouth. “no- i mean that's super crazy [name], very justified response.”
“you're rude.”
“no, no i'm being real.” he could barely hide the casual giggle being let out, “like, it's crazy how hard that must've been. no immediate solutions at all.”
“well, i'm emotionally invested so obviously it was harder for me to think!”
“why didn't you just tell mr. aizawa, he could've canceled it out for you in class.”
“.. i didn't think of that.”
he couldn't help it anymore, he burst out laughing, having to cover his hand with his mouth to keep from cackling.
meanwhile, you crossed your arms and looked straight-faced. “this isn't funny at all by the way.”
he finally calmed down enough, grabbing your hand from across the table and still smirking slightly.
“sorry, sorry. fucking sore ass subject, i got it. let's get out of here already.”
“right, you ruined the atmosphere.”
“sure i did.”
he paid, and for your last stop of the day, he got you ice cream at a park. you just wanted to sit down, legs tired from the amount of walking you did today.
licking at your favorite flavor, he holds up his ice cream to your mouth to try. it was a sour, savory flavor. but you ended up liking it.
the moon was out now, greeting the two of you as you sat side-by-side, illuminating your bodies with the reflected rays of the sun.
it felt late you realized, and you looked down at your phone’s time, sighing in happiness.
it was 12:00, you were free.
“hey katsuki, ask me something.”
“uh.. did you enjoy our day today?”
“no.” a face of annoyance grew on his face, while one of excitement adorned yours. “see? it's over!”
“you can say that.”
“no dumbass! i lied, i really did enjoy today! the quirk is over.” you leaned back raising your hands in glee. “i'm free!”
he laughed, leaning back with you and looking at the constellation’s in the sky.
“well, since you're free now, i'll ask you one final question.”
“hm?” you turned to look at him, his hand rose to grab yours in his. his fingers ran over your knuckles.
“can i be your boyfriend?”
you paused, before a smile erupted over your face once again.
“you could've asked me earlier, and my answer would still be the same,”
so, obviously yes.”
he grinned, pulling you into him.
you sealed your answer with a kiss. soft, endearing, long, and truthful. his hands were tangled in your hair, your hands around the upper part of his back.
as you pulled away, you could only hope this would last forever, that the feeling of honesty and security would be forever eternal as you laid against his chest, pointing out things you'd saw in the stars.
but looking at him once more, you knew it'd be alright.
it was the truth written in the stars, after all.
end.
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tags: @k0z3me @darhinadadragon @maddietries @exoticrasin @lavendarstarz @hisonlyobsession @i-the-fluffo @cookielovesbook-akie @frosted-flakes @irenne-stans @lulumi1u @bakunis
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entirelysein-e ¡ 2 days ago
Text
『 Faking it 』
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☟ synopsis: you fake an orgasm and they notice so they punish you
☟ characters: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Toji Fushiguro
☟ wc: 1.0k
☟ cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, creampie, thigh riding, hair pulling, mentions of fingering and masturbation/toys, degradation (reader being called "bitch", "pet"), pet names, mean!Toji
☼ notes: once again I am daring you to comment and / or reblog to let me know your thoughts 🫶
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ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹ Geto:
✧ You were just exhausted from the day and somehow your head was everywhere but in the moment, despite wanting nothing more than for your boyfriend to rail you like he was doing
✧ Geto had you on all fours before taking a fist full of hair to pull you up against his chest and you could feel his hips stutter
✧ Not wanting him to hold back you just faked it - giving it your best act
✧ He scoffed and pushed you into the mattress, your hips still high as your head got buried in the surface beneath you, but he pulled out right before he came, letting his seed shoot over the globes of your ass and lower back
✧ You pout at that “you promised to cum inside tonight,” you whined and heard him chuckle while shaking his head
✧ “Only good girls get filled with my cum - and you certainly aren't one,” he hissed before releasing your hair from his tight grip and you knew that he knew
✧ Before you were able to explain yourself to him he patted his thigh, his back resting against the headboard “If you still want to cum you gotta work for it,”
✧ You were pouting but yes, yes you wanted to release so badly, unsure why you even faked it but this was your punishment now
✧ You straddled one of his thighs, his hands having a death grip on your hips to rut you against his leg at his desired speed - slow and with barely any pressure, making sure to let you suffer
✧ “Go ahead, love, thank me for helping you,” He hummed, a playful smirk on his lips
✧ Without thinking much, you started thanking him for being so generous, for helping you to find pleasure. It made you feel so ashamed of faking it but that's exactly what he wanted
✧ “Keep up this slow pace, be a good girl and i might even slip a finger into your cunt,” He breathed against your ear, knowing how much you love to ride his fingers
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ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹ Gojo:
✧ Gojo knew something felt off when your moans weren't the same, sounding rather fake so it came as no surprise when you faked it
✧ You don't even know why you did it, things just didn't feel as intense or like you're gonna release any time soon and hoped he wouldn't notice - bot oh he did notice
✧ He just continued as if he didn't know and finished a short while later but rolled off right away, a playful smile on his lips and that's when you knew that you're fucked
✧ “Have fun finishing yourself off then,” He hummed unbothered, that teasing smirk only getting bigger when he saw your mortified face
✧ “Didn't think i would notice, hm bunny?” He asked amused before turning to face you, his head propped up on one arm
✧ You felt like a deer in headlights under his mocking gaze along with his teasing and somehow you really hoped he would help you release
✧ But Gojo wouldn't be Gojo if he wouldn't be a menace, slender fingers dancing over your skin, always close but never touching the areas where you needed him so desperately
✧ “Is my cock not good enough anymore? Do you need your own little fingers now? Maybe even your adorable toy? yeah, i know of your little secrets,” He teases relentlessly, making you flustered but so turned on
✧ “Go ahead and touch yourself for me… let me see,” he giggled, wanting to guide your movements with his voice now
✧ He wouldn't touch you in order to help you, that was your little punishment
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ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹ Toji:
✧ RIP to your little kitty
✧ Why you thought faking it is a good idea? Maybe because you know exactly how mad he gets after
✧ It hurts his ego more than anything that he can't satisfy you to the point where you see it necessary to fake it but you love how he reacts - so you do it anyways
✧ Tojis hips slow down in pace when your walls don't grip him like a vice as they usually do and with one swift movement he manhandled you into a mating press
✧ “Think I'm too dumb to notice, angel? Let me teach you a lesson,” he growls while he pushes your legs tightly against your chest, his cock now deeper than before which made you whimper
✧ “That's what I thought. Crying for me like a bitch in heat,” he continues to degrade you but this is a punishment, you're not getting it the way you want it
✧ His pace is now oh so slow, far too slow for your liking but you feel the tip of his length drag against your walls and brushing against all the right spots which made you lose your mind
✧ You were now stuck, folded in half between your lover and the mattress while he tortured you with slow thrusts, a mischievous grin painted on his face that screamed victory as his degrading words fell from his lips
✧ You were a mess by the time he was done with you, far too overstimulated and every drag of his cock along your walls borderline painful
✧ "Who knew my baby can only cum when degraded into nothing but a hole for me to fuck," he chuckled before pulling out so you won't get the satisfaction of being filled by him
✧ Toji came over your face just to degrade you some more “go clean yourself up. You're such a mess,” he ordered but waited for your return
✧ When you were back in his arms he hummed softly “did you learn your lesson now, angel?”
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Networks: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @houseofsolisoccasum
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endursent ¡ 2 days ago
Text
- My Partner Turned Into A Cat And I Don't Know How To Fix It
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【 content; established relationship , fluff , humour , angst if you squint(?) , gn!reader 】
【 characters; aventurine , blade , dr. ratio , jiaoqiu , jing yuan , moze , sunday 】
【 premise; " Your partner has been struck with a curse of some sort which has turned him into a cat, you have no idea how to fix it nor how long it might take. Yet you also cannot help but be rather amused by the situation despite the uncertainty…" 】
【 note; might make more parts, who knows. also two one-shots/fics between gss chapters? in this writing economy? 】
【 word count; 3.303 | read on ao3 】
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Aventurine;
You thought he’d be more agitated than this—usually Aventurine doesn’t stay still for long periods of time, always out and about, as if resting for too long or standing still raises the hairs on his neck as something rapidly approaches from behind him, unseen to anyone else.
  And yet now… he sleeps curled on the sofa in his apartment, you continue to scratch your head over the situation and how to fix it—you tried to ask Dr. Ratio, who you’ve only met once by chance with Aventurine, but he seemed knowledgeable, and you’ve seen some of his theses cited in arguments online…
  But all he replied with to your very concerned and urgent text message from Aventurine’s phone was; “lol”
  So you’re officially on your own, it’s bad enough that Ratio has rejected your plea for help and now knows about this, if it gets out to Aventurine’s coworkers…
  You sigh and plop yourself down on the sofa next to his curled form, yellow-orange fur swaying at your movements as he doesn’t even look up. For a moment, you’re a bit concerned… hopefully he’s still breathing.
  Reaching a hand out, one finger pointed straighter than others, Aventurine suddenly looks up—and closes his jaw around your finger. It’s a gentle hold, not exactly a bite despite the way it looks and the prick of his teeth. You blink at him, he slow blinks at you. “You’re so sleepy,” you note. Aventurine just licks your finger, letting go of it—though it was barely a hold.
  After having gotten what seemed to be a long-awaited proper rest over the span of two days, Aventurine seems to spring to life, not in the way he’s zooming all over the oversized apartment or knocking things over, he just seems very excited to see you when you come home from work—your partner might have turned into a cat for real, but your superior will NOT believe you—he sits on your thighs whether you’re on the couch, by the dinner table, kneeling to fix something under a shelf, anything. 
  He’s usually quite independent, so this somewhat clingy behaviour is surprising, but you don’t entirely mind, his fur is very soft.
  Aventurine didn’t even make a single sound when you bathed him after accidentally spilling some bolognese sauce on his back—he was wandering around your feet and nearly tripped you when you turned around. 
  Perhaps this temporary (hopefully) form has made him more confident in seeking the closeness to you he craves, the need for connection that he’s too reluctant to engage in most times despite being together for so long. 
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Blade;
You squint your eyes open in the darkness of the night, why is it so hard to breathe suddenly? It woke you up, as if there was something hot and heavy on your chest.
  And there is, when your eyes adjust to the darkness, you see large flame-coloured eyes staring at you. Blade’s pitch black fur blends into the darkness of the night, but his eyes do not—if you didn’t know better you’d think there were two eyes floating in front of your face, but the body attached to them is very much standing on your chest.
  “... what?” you mumble sleepily, why is he staring at you like that? He doesn’t do this normally… you think. Maybe… does he?
  No response—you’re not sure what to expect, it’s not like he can talk in this form. 
  He does this every night, to a point you’ve started laying on your side so he at least has to stand on the bed. One night, you even reach out and grab him, pulling him into your arms so he’s unable to stand and stare like that. You come out with scratched arms, but it was worth the somewhat peaceful sleep when he finally settles. 
  It doesn’t matter what you’re doing, he’s always been in the corner of your eyes, sometimes waiting for you to finish what you’re doing, sometimes just standing there—not necessarily even looking at you or engaging with you in any way. He just likes to stand in the same room. 
  Except now he’s perched on shelves, under sofas or chairs, looming behind a corner so you almost step on him.
  Over time, he becomes a bit restless, but other than hiding away in warm, dark spots… but as you settle into bed, he’s always ready and hops onto your stomach as soon as your back hits the mattress. 
  The other Stellaron Hunters’ reactions range from curious concern to finding it hilarious. Firefly mentioned they have two cat members now, Blade wasn’t very happy about it… the day after she offhandedly mentioned that she could barely sleep and felt like someone was watching her the entire time. You decided not to mention his habit. 
  Blade doesn’t quite follow you at your heel the entire time… but he does always seem to be in the same general area, as he always has. It’s a bit of a relief, you thought you might get lonely without his constant presence. 
  He sometimes doesn’t run off when you pet him. Sometimes. 
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Dr. Ratio;
Ratio is appalled by this development, he hates it. He doesn’t have opposable thumbs, he can’t communicate properly, and you won’t stop pinching his ears. You’re lucky he doesn’t bite you. 
  He, in his infinite wisdom, developed a way for him to communicate with you. He may be a cat now, but his work doesn’t have space to halt for even a day! And so it’s up to you to continue it under his guidance, because he will not be seen like this by his assistants. 
  His way is quite funny, for complex explanations or lengthy dialogue, he will slap his paws on a holo-keyboard to type it out, but otherwise he presses buttons laid out on one of his workbenches for general commands. “Write”, “Open drawer”, “Fetch tool” (he then vaguely gestures which one), and even “Eat” and “Nap”.
  You asked him if he wanted to add a voice-over to the buttons so you wouldn’t just have to listen to a buzzer made to catch your attention, but he just stared at you blankly.
  You pinch and rub his ears, despite protests.
  To ensure subtlety, he demands you carry him in your bag in and out of the lab and past the reception… and you can’t in good faith deny that it’s adorable to see his head poke out of your bag and squint around to make sure the coast is clear once you’re outside. 
  Ratio had never imagined to hear as absurd of a suggestion as when you asked him if you should ask any of his Intelligentsia Guild colleagues about this, surely they can put their brains together and come up with a solution? 
  Absolutely not, he says, by knocking an empty coffee paper cup over. 
  You caught him staring longingly at his own bathtub and asked if he wanted to take a dip, you can wash him. The idea sounded good… until he stuck his purple paw into the soapy water and felt the spine-shattering feeling of his fur sticking together and immediately wriggled so aggressively out of your grip—startling you of course—that you both went tumbling into the water.
  He sat on his bed, towel under his body and over his back with a traumatised expression on his face for about forty eight minutes straight. Not even an offering of some nice cheese from the fridge brought him out of it. 
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Jiaoqiu;
Different from the rest of the cast, Jiaoqiu has found himself in the form of an extremely furry fox, matched exactly to the colour of his hair. He’s so soft that you can’t help but run your fingers through it, messing up the direction of the coat and requiring Jiaoqiu to stand up and shake himself a few times to right it out. It comes to a point he will nip at your fingers if your hand comes too close.
  One afternoon, you’re wondering where he went off to—he has a chronic tendency to wander off, even in regular foxian form—you go into the pantry to see his tail swaying excitedly, half of his body disappearing into a woven bag of peanuts. Startled for a moment that he might not be able to digest that—you’ve never had to take care of an actual fox before—you hurry towards him and pull him out, holding Jiaoqiu up.
  He screams in such a disturbingly human way you almost drop him. Whether the scream was of surprise or protest is hard to tell.
  You stand in front of him, sat on the divan in your home and try to look stern… but the smile and closed eyes he makes even in this form is so eerily similar to how he normally would with his usual expression that it almost freaks you out. You shouldn’t be surprised, he’s basically just a furry version of himself… but it’s too close! 
  And he got away with it too, damn him. 
  Despite the pale pink fur, the tip of his tail and ears, his legs and paws are all dark, and you can’t help but hold them, stroke through the fur through the change of colour and Jiaoqiu—though normally not liking his tail or ears to be touched, in this form he seems to accept it… he can’t lie to you with turning his snout up, you see his tail sway when your hand comes close, despite how he would nip at them before—you’ve cracked the code, smooth the fur back down after ruffling it, and it’s acceptable.
  Don’t think for a second that you’re safe to indulge in any unhealthy habits or dumb decisions even though his “warning smile” is absent, he will bite your pants and pull so hard they might rip. You were about to be roped into some nonsense by Feixiao, seeing the perfect opportunity to borrow you for some “racing”, when Jiaoqiu comes running at breakneck speed, bites your pants, and effectively drags you away.
  Feixiao just watches with a grin. Good luck next time.
  He sulks a bit about not being able to do his job for such an extended period of time, he has a good sense of responsibility and doesn't like to sway from his sworn duties too much.
  Also, he can tell by the smell alone that the food you make for yourself in the absence of his skilled work is severely lacking in critical ingredients, and is also plated wrong. But that’s more of a subjective nitpick—maybe he’s just getting restless.
  He decides to hide one of your shoes and watch in amusement as you search high and low through the house the next morning. Sitting on the carpet with a foxy smile. 
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Jing Yuan;
Jing Yuan is delighted. He plops himself down on you no matter what you’re doing, if there is no surface to curl up, he will lie down by your feet, or anywhere he can be touching you with at least a part of his body. 
  Raking your hand through his thick fur, you pull your hand back and it’s covered in white hairs, he sheds more than Mimi.
  You vehemently vetoed his decision to rename Mimi to Wave-Treading Snow Lion when it began growing and showing signs of not being a grimalkin like he suspected it was.
  Speaking of Mimi, you walk into the Seat of Divine Foresight and see the two of them splayed out by the massive windows, artificial sunlight bathing them in warmth as Mimi lies on the floor belly up… and Jing Yuan lies on Mimi’s belly, his own facing up towards the sun. You don’t dare disturb them—mostly because you worry that Mimi will roll over and crush poor Jing Yuan under it. 
  So you set the documents on his desk slowly and sneak back out, the Cloud Knights always present in the room stand still and try not to do more than whisper between themselves.
  If you thought Jing Yuan was sleepy before, you were in for a surprise. As soon as his hands turned to paws, he was lounging around as lazily as he could get away with, which was infinite in this form—perhaps this was the taste of retirement he needed, and it might convince him to go through with it… you hope. For his sake. 
  Unfortunately, your partner is cursed with a perpetual disturbance of his naps, and a problem comes up in regards to an illegal trade of magically-charged artefacts—one of which having the potential to explode if handled wrong, which could hurt innocents during the exchange. He circles the Seat of Divine Foresight like he would normally in thought… except instead of his boots touching the ground in a rhythmic thump, it’s small paws padding on the floor.
  It’s cute—but then again, he’s always cute.
  Thankfully the problem is resolved due to the Cloud Knights having previously acquired knowledge of suspicious movements over the last weeks and are able to intercept the exchange.
  As a reward for his hard work, you make a big bowl of juicy fruits for him to dive into—though Mimi’s snout got in before him, and stole about half of it… you snooze you lose, dozing general. 
  Of course, he didn’t let you off that easy, cuddles were demanded with headbutts and loud meows of protest if you turned to do anything else, so you were stuck with two cats hogging your attention for the rest of the night, good thing you have two hands to scratch behind both of their ears at the same time.
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Moze;
You thought for a moment he didn’t actually retain his senses, and had ran off somewhere, you dragged Feixiao with you to search the entirety of the Xianzhou Yaoqing… only to return home several hours later, exhausted and disappointed, to see Moze sitting on the kitchen counter with a fish in his mouth, tail swaying contently as he ate it off the bones.
  He would just randomly wander off and return at odd times, once you saw some blood on his paw and worried he had hurt himself, but no matter how you looked or poked and prodded, there was no wound. It must have been the capture of another fish or another… because, surely, Feixiao doesn’t have him doing work like this?
  You suppose it’s quite a good cover… no one would suspect a cat…?
  After locking him in your room for the workday to ensure he doesn’t go off somewhere, as you had asked an elder of the Alchemy Commission to come over and have a look at him, you came back with the old man to find the room empty.
  Given cat form, Moze has become the perfect escape artist—not that there’s much anyone can do to hold him down in his normal form. 
  Try as you might, it becomes somewhat of a game of you trying to keep him in one single place, and him disappearing like a leaf on the wind, only to show up later with a treat… usually for himself, but once he brought you a pouch of sesame balls. You hope he paid for it somehow, but you don’t hold your breath either.
  He sleeps exclusively by your feet, circles a few times and wriggles into a comfortable position against either leg that’s closer. You tried to get him to sleep closer to your torso or on your inviting arm, but he always stood up and returned to the spot by your legs after a few minutes. 
  One time, you were stroking his tail absentmindedly and accidentally pinched it only slightly—yet he still jumped into the air like you had just stepped on it with a loud yeowl, making you yourself jump as he suddenly sped off across the room and almost slammed himself into the door leading to the study.
  You decided not to play with his tail after that, he even left scratches on the floor with his hurried scuttling across the room. 
  You spotted Jiaoqiu trying to feed him some of the ‘concoction’ he was making, which Moze sniffed curiously at—but you’re fairly certain there are not many things in that broth that will settle well—or at all—in his kitty stomach, and thus you swoop in and feign extreme interest in Jiaoqiu’s dish. Of course, the foxian sees through you easily and smiles widely. “Ah, why don’t you try it then?”
  You got yourself into this position, and so, you resign yourself to burnt taste buds for the next few hours. It’s delicious as always, but your poor mouth… Moze rubs his furry head against your legs in comfort. 
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Sunday;
He couldn’t believe it. Sunday stared at himself in the reflecting mirror of the Astral Express’ windows for about ten whole minutes after being brought back to it in the state he was in. His ears flatten to his head and he glares at anyone that tries to approach, he doesn’t want to interact with anyone like this!
  He flees to his room and stays under the bed for several hours before you manage to lure him out with some delicious smelling grilled fish. Sunday reluctantly pokes his head out to grab it—which is when you grab him. 
  He flails and meows, struggling and squirming as you pick him up and stand… only to coo at him and rub his cheeks with your thumbs, musing how cute he is.
  Cute?! This is a horror scenario! 
  Despite his displeased meowing and nibbling on your fingers when you try to pet him, Sunday eventually gives up when he learns that you just find his struggling adorable. Suddenly your staring when he gets annoyed with small things start to make sense. Like when he hit his head on the ridge of a table after bending under it to fetch a pen he dropped, and the brief surge of frustration and annoyance he felt—only for you to swoop in to rub his head and see if it hurt. 
  He sulks the entire time, he doesn’t like it one bit. 
  March asks him if she can put him in outfits like she does with Pom-Pom, and he strategically avoids her for several days. Not a chance. 
  Thankfully, despite you ‘tormenting’ him on the first day, Sunday does seek comfort in you… you’re warm, and somehow you know exactly where to scratch behind his ears and under his chin where he can’t quite reach well enough. 
  You almost pull him in and rub your face into his furry torso when Sunday kneads at your shirt when you lay down to sleep, but decide that watching him is much cuter. You get such cuteness aggression when he does the smallest things. He purrs when you massage his paws or draw your fingers all the way down his back—and get a fistful of hair while you’re at it—and eventually he starts to do it at the smallest gestures… Pom-Pom once brought up concerns to Himeko that they thought that the train might have a problem, some kind of motor malfunction.
  Turns out Sunday was napping in the warm engine room and purring so loudly that when Pom-Pom leaned close to his hiding spot, they thought it was the engine. 
  He doesn’t let anyone pet him properly except you, not because he doesn’t trust the rest of the Express members—trust is a strong word in any case—but because when he closes his eyes in comfort, he wants to open them again and see you stroking through his fur. Nothing personal, though March does take it a bit personally.
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nezuscribe ¡ 3 days ago
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an idea I have in mind because I think too much about arranged Gojo.
at some point, when they're already happy and in love, they meet her sisters again. Maybe they are hosting some party or his mother invited them to the seaside house like in the past. Reader is in much a better place now personally. What’s more, she’s in a better position in the hierarchy than she was before. She's a sweetheart and a kind person. So she doesn’t care about any of that, she just wants to live her quiet, happy life with Gojo. Gojo, however, is a different story... he's heard and saw enough of how her sisters treated her and he's a petty man. A very petty man. For the duration of the visit, Gojo makes it his sole mission to flaunt their happiness. He insists on buying her the finest dresses and jewelry, making sure she’s never seen wearing the same outfit twice. Every day, he presents her with another gift, just to remind everyone of how she's adorned now. He sticks to her side at all times, while the other women are left alone when their boring husbands goes hunting or something like that. And he doesn't stop to show, verbally and physically, how he loves and admires her. Maybe, just to make his point even clearer, he asks for their rooms to be on the same floor. So they'll get a 24/7 show of the great treatment she gets.
so when i was writting the arrangment i wanted to add some scenes with readers family but it didn't work out so i think this is a great opportunity to expand on that
and totally. the thing abt reader that i hope people take away is that she's had to be stronghearted to survive in the conditions she's been brought up in, but because of that she just wants to live peacefully and quietly. she's elated that she gets a caring husband on top of it, but she just goes to the beat of her own drum and if people can't then she doesn't really care
but when this little get-together is planned at the gojo summer home, something customary and necessary, both reader and gojo dread it. reader because she doesn't like her sisters and father's wife and gojo because he hates your sisters and your father's wife
so gojo shows you off whenever he can. the two of you haven't had sex yet and he's fine with that, he's trying to find the best moment anyway, but he's so touchy it's insane. his arm is either around your waist, in yours, or sometimes around your neck if he wants to show you something from where he's standing
you're wearing the highest fashion, the best jewelry, and expensive oils. your sisters gawk and groan, but what else can they do? their husbands are old and ugly and don't give a rats ass about them, and you couldn't be more content
and this one time when all the younger people are around the lake gojo brings you onto his lap to open up the seat for one of your other friends, letting you curl up into his strong chest as he wraps a blanket over you. and your sisters watch in pure jealousy as you giggle at some of the things he tells you, watch as he blushes unabashedly when you kiss his forehead
arranged!gojo just loves you too much and there's nothing wrong with that
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thexsilentxwordsmith ¡ 3 days ago
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: Your relationship was all a lie and the confrontation about it happens in front of everyone, including a certain lieutenant that has a secret. Seeing you so upset has him following after you with a need to help and after a confrontation, there is a confession that happens that changes everything.
Word Count: 5 k
Warnings: Feelings of worthlessness, Slight violence, Confessions, Kissing, Fluff and angst
Lt. Riley looks up from his plate of dinner as a commotion across the mess hall grabs his attention away from his thoughts. The noise rings out above the droll evening conversations that surround him as he sits in solitude eating dinner and his eyes dart around until he finds the source. He can see you over at your table sitting amongst a couple of fellow sergeants, one of which you were involved with, and he watches as you shove your chair back and launch up onto your feet as a flurry of angry words spew from your mouth.
“You’re fucking serious?” you shoot the accusation to the sergeant in front of you as he and a few of his friends look as if they’re trying to hide their smiles and laughter behind their hands. 
The chatter in the hall dies down to almost nothing as faces turn to watch. You can feel the staring eyes from all around you, but you are too furious to care who sees or hears what as the only thing you can focus on is what you had just been told. 
“Answer me!” you yell, not caring about anything other than getting a response.
The sergeant straightens his face as he looks around to see he has all eyes on him. “Well, yeah,” he answers as if it should be obvious. “You didn’t really think I was serious…” 
You don’t let the stupid boy finish his sentence before you heatedly cut back in, the redness in your face matching the indignation in your voice. “So, it was a fucking lie. All of it? I can’t…” you take a deep, rushed breath, as if struggling to intake enough air to finish, “you goddamn bastard!” 
Reaching back towards the table you pick up your cup full of water into your hand and fling the contents directly into his face before flipping his plate of food into his lap. He too jumps to his feet as he curses your name, calling you a fucking bitch, but nothing he says now can touch the pain of what he had just revealed.
Lt. Riley waits anxiously on the edge of his seat as he watches this unfold, ready to jump up in a flash and intervene if needed, but before the sergeant can even think about making a move you toss the empty cup to the ground with a reverberating clang and turn to storm past tables filled with whispering military personnel.
You pass by Lt. Riley’s table on your way to the doors of the mess and in that split second as he looks into your face he can see that your eyes aren’t just cold and sharp, but that there is a shine to them that he recognizes; you aren’t just angry, this is something more.
Without a second thought Lt. Riley is situating his mask back down over the lower half of his face, leaving everything else behind on the table to swiftly follow after in your footsteps. Night is just beginning to fall as he makes it outside, but it’s still light enough that he can see you up ahead and he takes off in your direction. Your rage-fueled steps have already carried you a good ways ahead of him and he has to book it to even get close enough that you’ll hear him try to get your attention.
“Sergeant, stop,” Lt. Riley calls out after you once he gets within range.
Your heart skips as you recognize the voice of your lieutenant behind you. Please, no; why does it have to be him? Why now, in one of your lowest moments? You’re no fool, you realize your confrontation drew a lot of attention back there, but you are on the verge of losing it and there is one person that you desperately don’t want to see you like this - at your worst. 
You have to get to the safety of your room before he has to see you fall apart.
You defy his order and keep the pace fast. “Not now, sir,” you return over your shoulder, choking back the tears burning your eyes and blurring your vision as your chest feels too tight to breathe.
The lieutenant’s still hot on your tail as you quickly walk through the base determinedly headed towards the barracks. He can’t recall a time in the past two years where you’ve ever been this upset and something about that tugs violently on his heartstrings so that he won’t stop till he is certain that you will be okay. 
The buildings pass one after another in rapid succession, the lines from their shadows growing longer by the second, until he tries to call out once more. “I said stop, private. Tha’s an order,” he returns, putting the authority into his voice so that you are forced to slow out of policy for your commanding officer. It’s the last resort he has at his disposal, but he hates to see the way you bristle at his words.
He wants to be a comfort, not another source of stress.
You plant your feet firmly into the ground and grit your teeth behind your closed lips. The tears are welling at the rims of your eyes and it won’t be long before they breach the barrier and roll down your cheeks. You need to make this fast; you’ve already been made to look a fool today, you don’t want it made worse by letting him see you weak about it.
“Yes, sir?” you say cold and clinical as the crunch of Lt. Riley’s boots get closer and closer until he makes his way around the front to come face to face. 
It is obvious from the way your eyes glisten and your face twitches as you desperately try to control it that you are in distress something terrible. He can only imagine all the things you must be feeling in this moment after just having witnessed that public display: you’re probably embarrassed and feeling vulnerable. If it was him, he would not want anyone to see him like this and he knows he needs to get you out of the way of any prying eyes and fast, but where? 
Looking behind you he realizes that you’ve come to stop right in front of the rec center; perfect, it’s still vacant for the moment. You can talk without having to worry about anyone skulking about. Pointing a finger towards the door he gives you a brief “come on, follow me inside” and you do as you’re told, praying that this will be swift.
An electrical buzz rings out through the stillness inside as Lt. Riley throws the switches to illuminate the space and as he tends to that you walk off into the interior in a huff. He makes sure the door is secure behind you both and satisfied with how you’re locked in, he follows and finds you leaning against the far back wall, kicking it with the heel of your shoe over and over, harder and harder.
Your ears pick up his approach, but that isn’t the only thing they catch. You heard that click as the lock was latched; now there is nowhere to hide from those dark, discerning eyes… the same ones that make your pulse race. All the emotion coursing through you gives rise to old feelings that you buried and now that you are alone again all at once you’re back to those days when you would get butterflies whenever you knew he would be around.
And that makes this ten times worse.
“Care ta tell me what the hell that was about?” he asks as he comes to stand in front of you. His voice is firm, but not unkind.
In your sensitive state you mistake his tone as a reprimand rather than concern and you’re sure you’ve done it now. He’s here to simply discipline you for the infraction you’ve broken that will get you a week’s worth of firewatch or worse for causing havoc in the mess, but you don’t care. That bastard deserved worse and your superior should be glad that you restrained yourself from actually doing something harmful like bashing his stupid fucking face into the table. 
You answer straightforwardly, but avoid his eyes to stare at the floor as you start to pace back and forth, your hand brushing along the wall as you walk to distract yourself from the emotion tearing at your insides. “Nothing of concern, sir.” 
He takes another few steps towards you to close some of the distance. “I think it is. That was quite tha display.”
You inhale deep, trying to keep your voice from shaking as you give a short summary that will hopefully get him off your back… or at least get him to issue you your punishment faster. “Personal matter, it’s over now. It won’t happen again, sir.”
He knows that isn’t the whole truth, otherwise your eyes wouldn’t be shimmering and your cheeks flushed. It’s killing him to see you suffering and not be able to do anything about it, though he doesn’t know how to say he cares without giving away a secret he’s been keeping hidden for a while now; a reason that causes him to be here trying to comfort in his own strange way. 
A reason that makes him keep a close eye on you more and more recently, that makes his heart skip a beat whenever you are near, a reason that had made him jealous of your relationship with that no good sergeant in the first place. 
So he stays silent for a moment, unsure of what to do here; he doesn’t want to make things worse than they already are for you, but he needs to know how to fix this and that won’t happen until you talk. The longer he stands quietly, the more that truth that was just revealed to you gnaws away at your composure until the pacing isn’t enough to stop the emotion welling up inside and it slowly starts leaking out so that before he can speak again, you start to talk. 
“I-” you hesitate “I’m just a fucking joke, that’s all,” you say, a lump forming in your throat that causes your voice to waver. “I should have known better, that a guy like that would never want to be with someone like me.”
“Tha’s not true,” Lt. Riley interjects, but you shake your head, the pacing getting faster as everything spills out.
“Oh it is,” you say as you grit your teeth, unable to hold back the words. “The only way someone like that would ever be with me is through something as fucking stupid as a bet.”
The lieutenant’s brow furrows under his mask at your oddly specific statement.  “What do ya mean?”
You bite your lip as a tear too engorged to keep contained rolls engorged down the side of your cheek and onto your shirt as you make another pass along the wall. A heavy sigh of defeat breaks from your mouth; you’ve already said more than you should have, you guess you can keep going. 
Why not let your whole life fall apart?
You clear your throat. “You see, that bitch and his so-called friends made a bet amongst themselves to see how long he could fool me into dating him. And it worked.”
The emotion is so intense that you hang your head in shame as more tears start to fall like rain onto the tips of your shoes, leaving a trail along the ground as you continue to make your passes back and forth. “Apparently I’m pretty fucking gullible it seems. I just thought someone could actually like me, but it wasn’t real, none of it…all of it was a goddamn lie. And I fell for it like a fucking lovesick idiot.”
“Oi.” The lieutenant’s intense interjection makes you stop in your tracks and look up at him. “Don’t ya ever fuckin’ say that ‘bout yourself,” he says heatedly. “Those fuckin’ boys are the ones that’re the imbeciles. Ta think that anyone’d ‘ave ta make a bet ta be with ya is ludacris.”
You divert your gaze again. “That’s not true. Do you know how many times I’ve been asked out since I was transferred here?”
He shakes his head even if you aren’t looking to see it. “No.” 
“Twice. Just twice,” you admit sheepishly. “And one of those was by a drunk down at the bar off base so I don’t think he really even meant it. I’m a fucking joke.”
“Stop,” he says, but you ignore him.
“Why? Why deny the truth?” you ask. 
The flood is released and the tears fall even heavier as you hurriedly try to rub them away with the back of your arm, but they can’t be stopped now. It’s all too much: knowing that you weren’t even liked and having to reveal all of this to the only other person you ever desired in this hell hole. A sharp, stabbing pain pierces your stomach so that you have to wrap your arms around yourself to keep it together as if at any moment you will break apart.
You swallow hard. “I mean…” you have to clear you throat “fuck, I just want to be someone’s first choice, you know? The person that someone would do anything to be with. But no one ever chooses me. Maybe I’m just meant to keep making a fool of myself chasing something I’ll never have.”
The lieutenant is furious now not with you, but with the fact that no one has ever made you feel like the amazing person you are. How dare anyone make you think such things about yourself like that. Just because one stupid boy can’t see the whole entire package you are doesn’t mean that no one can… that he can’t see it. A brilliant mind, a gorgeous face, a tough fighter, and a firm leader, there is so much in you to admire and adore.  
It makes him burn with rage that that jackass should get away with this type of destruction without consequence. 
He can’t do it, he cannot stand here and allow that piece of shit sergeant to ruin your self-esteem. The anger is visible in his gaze and he is breathing heavily as he struggles to contain it. Now that he knows the truth about what was done to you he isn’t going to sit idly by and allow anyone to hurt you. He is going to make sure that he makes that bastard pay.  
“Look at me,” he says suddenly and you do. “Wait here. I need ya to wait here till I get back. Can ya do that?”
There is such fury in his voice that it nearly chokes him and without waiting for your reply he swivels around and rushes back to the front of the rec in a flurry of anger with only one objective in mind: find that son of a bitch that ever thought he could hurt you and make him fear for his pathetic life.
“Wait, where are you going, sir? Lieutenant?” you call after him, but he doesn’t answer and the door slams shut so that you are left standing alone in utter confusion.
Lt. Riley knows exactly where to start and sure enough the lieutenant spots the sergeant making his way from the mess, laughing with his friends like he doesn’t have a care in the world and his blood begins to boil over. After having to watch those pained tears fall from your eyes, seeing this asshole so cheery makes him murderous.
There is no warning, no call out or any sound to give the sergeant a heads up until a force like a freight train is dragging him behind the next building over, further into the shadow even as night is now almost completely set in, and he is suddenly pinned to the brick wall by his throat. He struggles against that grasp, but can’t break free and finally he decides to look into the face of whoever it is that has launched this assault. What he is met with are those piercing dark eyes glaring at him through a gap in a black balaclava.
A shiver runs up his spine, making him unable to speak. His friends intercede with their pleas on his behalf, but the lieutenant is having none of it; he has no more patience for anything anyone has to say right now. His mind is too focused on what he feels he must do.��
“Unless ya want the same, I suggest ya fuck off,” he growls at the group as he stares them down with a monsterously terrifying glare, the venom in his voice enough to make them shiver in fear. The threat is intimidating enough that they immediately realize the weight of the situation and are quick to disperse, leaving their friend to whatever fate is his.
Alone now, he turns his attention back to the sergeant who looks as white as a sheet even in the dark and he shoves him harder into the wall to make the rough surface dig into his back through his t-shirt. “I d-don’t know what’s going on, s-sir,” the sergeant says feebly.
“Don’t know?” the lieutenant scoffs as his hand tightens around the boy’s neck before easing only enough that the bastard can still breathe. “Ya must be quick ta fuckin’ forget.”
The sergeant stares up into that masked face disoriented by the sudden hostile confrontation. 
“S-sir?”
Lt. Riley gets into his face. “Ya think ya can just use people and get away with it, do ya? Ya think nothin’ will happen to ya?” he asks in a snarl and he can feel the boy swallow hard under his hand. 
“I…what…” the sergeant stammers.
Again that gloved hand tightens around the sergeant’s neck. “Ya heard me, boy. I heard ‘bout what ya did to your fellow sergeant. People like you fuckin’ disgust me.”
“It was… j-just a prank…” the sergeant tries to backpedal, but the lieutenant is quick to cut him off. 
“I’m only gonna tell ya once and take this as a final warning. Ya ever even look at Sgt. Y/N again and I’ll be sure there ain’t a piece a ya ta fuckin’ identify. Do. You. Understand. Boy?”
A shiver runs through the sergeant at those threatening words and his entire body begins to shake in the lieutenant’s grasp like a leaf in the breeze. “Answer,” Lt. Riley barks.
“Y-yes, s-sir.”
The lieutenant gives one last hard squeeze, trying to make that miscreant think that he isn’t going to let go, before he quickly releases him and the sergeant stumbles as he takes a step to the side to get out of harm’s way. “Now, get outta my fuckin’ sight ‘fore I change my mind and drive ya through this fuckin’ wall.”
He watches as the now terrified sergeant trips over his own feet trying to scurry away like the vermin he is and only once he is out of sight does the lieutenant start his adrenaline-fueled trek back to the rec, mouthing silent pleas behind the mask that you are still there and hadn’t decided to slip out because he won’t let this day end without making sure that you know how much you are wanted.
You jump as you hear the door open harshly, breaking the silence of the building, and it makes your heart leap into your throat as you watch as the lieutenant makes a beeline straight for where you stand. He doesn’t stop until he is standing just a few inches from your body, his chest heaving up and down laboriously from his hurry to get back. 
You want to ask what is going on, why he left so abruptly, but he interjects before you can even get your question out.
“I want ya ta tell me why ya think ya can’t be someone’s first choice?”
The question seems so strange after being left alone randomly as the lieutenant went god knows where and it makes you pause out of confusion. 
“...what?” you ask.
He rephrases. “Who said you weren’t someone’s first choice?”
What the hell is happening? Disoriented and still upset, you aren’t sure what he is trying to say. All you can guess is that this is some sort of weird feel good speech opening and going off that, you answer. 
“Sir, if this is some strange way of saying that there are plenty of fish in the sea or another meaningless platitude that people spout whenever someone gets hurt, you don’t have to say it. I’ve heard them all thousands of times and they’re not actually helpful.”
Those stark eyes shadowed inside his disguise soften as he speaks, though his breath is still fast, but not from exertion anymore. “ ‘s not what I’m sayin’,” he returns.
You look at him and he stares right back at you, his gaze unwavering as the thought hangs heavily in the air while he waits for you to recognize the intention behind the phrase. Your eyes linger on one another, no words being said as the last bit of your tears dry on your cheeks, until understanding begins to slowly wash over you like a wave.
“Sir?” you ask quietly, not sure if you believe what your thoughts are trying to tell you. “Areyou saying…”
Your sentence is cut off as the lieutenant moves in and he gently places his gloved hands on either side of your face. Lt. Riley can hear the hitch as you struggle to catch your breath; never has he shared such an intimate connection with you like this before and all you can do is peer up into his masked face while your mind reels and your pulse quickens under his palms.
“Ya are someone’s first choice,” he murmurs before stopping. 
No, this isn’t right and he needs to do this right. The lieutenant removes his hands from your face to pull off those bits of cloth keeping your skin apart before coming back to cup his hands around your cheeks. Your face is so soft, so warm, everything he always thought it would be to caress and you seem to melt into his rough touch.
A charged tension fills the space around both of your bodies; it is so thick that it’s suffocating and you hold your breath waiting for what will cause it to break. The lieutenant must be overwhelmed with it too as he inhales sharp and shuddered. There is an electricity in his touch and it makes his hands shake slightly against your skin even as the rest of him stands still as stone.  
He can say it, he has to. You need to know that you are wanted, desired, and he has to be the one to do it before someone else can come along just to break your heart again. He has put this off longer than he should have and he isn’t going to waste another second or make you shed another tear.
“You’re someone’s first choice,” he repeats. “Mine.”
You’re not aware of your body until you realize that your hand has cupped over top of one of his on your cheek. You need to know that this is real, that he is real, and you press his hand down firmer onto your face while you shut your eyes, just for a moment to test that you aren’t dreaming. As they flutter back open, he’s still standing before you with his hands lingering around you. 
It’s suddenly a struggle to find your voice, but you push through. “I-I didn’t even think you noticed me; I thought I was always invisible to you, sir.”
The lieutenant shakes his head. “Never. Jus’ never seemed the right time to say it. But I can’t let ya stand ‘ere and think that no one knows what a fuckin’ catch you are.”
Is he still breathing heavily now or is it you? Maybe both? You can’t tell where you end and he begins anymore, yet it doesn’t seem enough to satisfy; you want to get closer to him and something in the tone of his voice makes you trust his words. You step all the way into him, reducing the distance between your bodies to nothing and the tension immediately escalates.
Lt. Riley has craved you from afar for so long now that he can hardly believe what is happening. Your advance leaves him reeling, his skin tingling, and now his tongue feels weighted in his mouth. He should say more, but he’s never been too good with words and it’s made worse because he’s lost in the ecstasy of your presence. Instead of talking, he leans his face in closer.
Only millimeters of space and a thin piece of fabric keep your mouths separated and yet for how near you are it still makes him burn in agony to be this far apart. The tip of his nose brushes against the tip of yours over the mask, foreheads nearly pressed together, mouths ghosting so near and yet so far; it’s torture, but he won’t let himself take anything that isn’t given to him freely, no matter how desperate your little gasps makes him. 
His eyes flutter closed, absorbing every second of your presence while you still allow him to have it. “Please, luv,” he groans the words, the warmth from his breath making your lips tingle even filtered through the mask, “tell me I can fuckin’ kiss ya. Cause I really want ta do it now.”   
You inhale sharply as an ache settles itself in your chest at his request, an ache for him to let you feel that desperation on your lips. Your mind is spinning in circles as the warm tension gathering between your bodies becomes unbearable and everything else falls away; it’s like you are the only two people left in the world.
You nod in his hands. “Kiss me,” you whisper as you barely have enough breath to get the words out. 
There is not a moment more of hesitation as he has his consent; his mask is ripped up above his lips to rest over the bridge of his nose and in a flash your back is being braced against the wall behind you as the lieutenant pins you to it, the bulk of his chest crushing into you as he leans in and breaks the space between your mouths with enough passion that you could choke on it.
The lieutenant can taste the salt still lingering on your mouth, all that sadness you had just endured giving your lips a briny flavor, but he is determined to kiss it all away and erase the memory of that bastard from your skin if it’s the last thing he does. He bombards your mouth with his unrelenting yearning, open-mouthed kisses overtaking your lips until you can taste the need across your tongue
“Anyone with half a brain would kill for tha chance to call you theirs,” he gasps against your lips. “And I want ya more than anythin’, before another bastard can take ya away from me.”
Your entire body feels weightless like you are floating the longer he takes your mouth. To be embraced like this, being devoured as if he has been starved of your kiss, is overwhelming and suddenly you’re lightheaded as time passes uncounted. All the pain and sadness that just had you in a chokehold evaporated from your mind as if it was never there and it is replaced by the emotions shared between two sets of hungry lips. 
“And stop calling me sir,” he says, “when it’s me and you, it’s Simon now.”
Kisses like fire pepper your lips, his entire mouth enveloping your own with noses pressed into cheeks so that neither of you can breathe and yet pulling away feels like torture. You know the type of man the lieutenant is, know that to be so vulnerable about what he wants is not something he has displayed much before, and that for him to be so open is important. 
He doesn’t just want to say the words, he wants to prove them true.
Simon’s large hands release your face to wrap themselves around your hips, touching you in such a way as if he is trying to write promises on your body through your clothes with his fingertips. “Jus’ want tha chance ta show ya that someone can fuckin’ choose ya. Tell me ya fuckin’ want that too,” he implores in a desperate whisper.  
His request is met without words at first, but your smile is against his mouth and the way you kiss him back harder, meeting his lips in feverish bursts as you tangle your fingers into the hair at the back of his head to push him tighter into you is answer enough.
“I do,” you whimper, only breaking from his lips long enough to spit the words out. 
His voice is calm, yet firm, quiet, yet powerful as he murmurs the words into the small gap between your mouths. “Then you’re under my protection now, got it? I won’t let any manky bastard mess with ya again.”
Something about the way he says it makes you suspicious of where he was just minutes ago, though you don’t ask the question. Let that chaos rest for another time, right now you are going to let yourself enjoy this.
Heated lips connect again as if he is trying to make you swallow his vow. “No one’s gonna hurt ya, not while I’m ‘round.”
There is a pause as Simon breaks the kiss and pulls back, dark eyes lingering on the beauty of your flushed face and hazy eyes. More gentle than you could have thought possible from the intimidating lieutenant, his fingertips caress your cheek as his lips upturn into a smile. “Cause from now on, you’re gonna be my first choice.”
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gay-dorito-dust ¡ 2 days ago
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hopefully tumblr doesnt eat this up again 😭
i was wondering how the batfam would reacted to getting caught watching edits of celebrity!reader
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I’m just going to put them in a relationship with Celeb! reader just to make things easier for myself.
Dick doesn’t give a fuck if he’s caught watching edits of you! You’re his spouse of course he’s going to save each and every edit there was of you because it’s be a crime if he didn’t.
He’ll even show you the ones where he thinks you’re the hottest in shamelessly with a smile. He honestly can’t get enough of the edits that his FYP is filled with them and snippets of interviews that transition to the edits as well.
Dick has no shame in being caught because why would he? You deserve to have a thousand of edits in your name and Dick has one too many edits saved in his phone, so much so that your surprised his phone still somehow has storage for the next wave of edits that he’ll be saving should he deem them worthy.
‘Babe come look at this edit of you! You look hot!’ Is the most often used when Dick is showing off an edit of yourself to you in hopes of getting your opinions on it. You don’t mind people making edits, especially didn’t mind them now when Dick would shout ‘my spouse is fucking gorgeous! God damn’ out of seemingly nowhere.
You’re not even surprised when his Lock Screen is a live wallpaper of the edit itself, dick really didn’t have any problems showing you off in any capacity at all.
Jason is either calm with being caught or he’s wanting to strangle Roy because who else is going to rat him out to you about watching edits of you other than him?
‘Chipmunk I can explain-‘ Jason would start.
‘There’s no need, I know you watch edits of me sweetheart there’s nothing to be ashamed of at all.’ You tell him as you cuddle up to his chest. ‘It’s complete fine I’m not going to shame you in watching them, I think it’s flattering that you do.’ You add and Jason couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief as he held onto you, kissing your forehead.
‘It’s not my fault you’re perfect and the edits happen to capture that beauty sweetheart.’ Jason replied and you couldn’t help but chuckle as you looked at him sweetly, not knowing how much more you could possibly love this beautiful man as much as you could, especially when his cheeks flush with a red colour while he scratched his nose sheepishly.
You didn’t mind that he was watching edits and while he was glad about that he was more than certain to watch them elsewhere, more specifically away from Roy before he can rat on him…again.
Tim is terrified the moment you catch him watching edits of you, so much so that he completely forgot to pause the edit as you stare at each other, accompanied by music playing in the background.
It’s hilarious to you but embarrassing to poor Tim who believes that you’d see him as a weirdo for watching them, but all you do is laugh and kiss the side of his head before fiddling his hair affectionately. ‘Watching edits of me are you? And here I thought you couldn’t get more adorable Timmy.’ You tease as you kiss his cheek.
‘You’re not weirded out?’ He’d ask, holding his phone to his shirt, not wanting you to know that he was more or less the one making them rather than watching them. He’s literally got several usb drives worth of edit material to make, no joke.
‘Nope just flattered.’ You replied before leaving Tim be before he passes out from embarrassment. Little did you know he’s making about ten more edits as we speak, all of which have to be perfect and he’ll watch them ten times over if he must, for no specific reason at all.
Bruce is just admiring his beautiful/ handsome spouse. That is all.
Alfred would’ve most likely told you that he’s been watching edits of you when you’re away. It’s adorable and you couldn’t help but smile at how your handsome boy has an hidden file on the bar computer dedicated to your edits. (Dick and Tim found it by pure accident and dick couldn’t hope but tell you about it.)
Needless to say you won’t see him watch the edits but you’ll hear from everyone else that he watches them and that about the closest you’ll get to catching him in the act of watching edits honestly. However don’t be surprised when you see a video from Stephanie of her filing Bruce somewhere as he watched the edits of you on the big screen of the bat computer, his eyes filled with pride and awe of his pretty/ charming spouse looking so effortlessly ethereal.
While you might not have caught him in the act yourself, you still found yourself smiling at Bruce smiling up at the edits of you -and sometimes him because you’re a power couple- as a warmth encased your whole being, buts that’s more than enough for you as it can act as your own little secret.
Damian is good at keeping his little secret safe, so you seeing him watch edits of you were slim to none, and even if you did you catch him in the act you would have to have been blessed by Lady Luck herself.
He’s a little embarrassed that you caught him in the act, mainly because he thought he was better than this to let his guard down to be caught in an act like this, then he’ll become irritated at the fact that you had came into his own room just to catch him watching edits of you.
‘You’re watching edits of me.’ You said.
‘And? Did you seriously come into my room to tell me that? What happened to respecting my privacy?’ He retorts, arms cross over his chest. He didn’t care that you caught him, he’s just more or less annoyed with his privacy being violated.
‘Sorry my sweet I should’ve knocked, but you haven’t answered my question.’ You apologised with a little hug and a kiss to his forehead and Damian found himself forgiving you in an instant as he brought you back into a short lived hug, hiding his flustered face in the depths of your neck, tightening his grip on you.
‘Tim hacked my phone.’ He says in response and you just let it slide, knowing that he’ll admit to it sooner or later and not when he’s being cornered into talking. You knew he watched the edits because he’s totally infatuated with his spouse and Damian knew it too, but wouldn’t dare tell you until this moment has passed you both by.
So until then he’ll watch the edits in secret because he can’t get enough of how gorgeous you looked in them.
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