#I'm endlessly crying over and over and over again | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

finniestoncrane · 7 months ago

Note

Virginal vault dweller reader you say?? I'd eat that up (and so would Cooper, heh) but seriously I would read the hell out of that if you're up for it <3

Different Up Here

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 6.3k anon thank you lmao i had already started drafting this, so vault dweller reader isn't quite a virgin but they are definitely inexperienced and have never known pleasure like the kind that cooper can offer 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: power imbalance, dubious consent because once you've said yes to cooper you can't change your mind, overstimulation, crying, oral sex, fingering, instructional, full penetration babiessss i realised i never tag that shit but yeah it's in here lmao, cumming inside, no protection, sweet coop afterwards but only briefly

If anyone else had asked you in that moment how you were, you couldn't have answered accurately without any hint of sarcasm and irritation. You were being worn down, like buildings by the sands of the desert. Each little molecule of your optimism being torn away from you, painful like plucking a hair. But when Cooper asked you, you tried your best to push down your knee jerk response.

"Let's see, shall we? Since leaving the vault a month ago, bravely in search of resources and supplies for my friends, I have killed, maimed, and eaten things I hope to never think of again. I'm in a constant cycle of very, very stressed and then very, very bored where there is no happy medium between fearing for my life and wishing for death. And oh, by the way, I'm sweating buckets the whole time because it's deathly fucking warm. Thank you for asking, Cooper!"

Instead, you shrugged and offered him at least a partial truth.

"It sounds silly... but I'm kind of bored."

A dry chuckle passed over Cooper's lips.

"Heh, that's a new one for out here."

Sensing an opportunity to at least get some conversation out of him, you sat up on the rusty bed frame, your body sinking into the almost entirely flattened mattress as you crossed your legs and did your best to get Cooper to talk more than a sentence at a time.

"Really? I would have thought you'd be bored a lot, especially when there's no raiders, or mirelurks, or scavengers, or feral ghouls, or super mutants, or roving gangs of-"

"See, this is why I'm never bored. Always somethin' or someone to be killin'."

"But what about like... now? When there's nothing else to do. There's no magazines, no books, no TV."

You watched as Cooper turned from you with a slight smile. You knew the one, the familiar grin that meant you'd divulged some information about your life in the vaults, something he always found so amusing. It was your naivety, your optimism. He was endlessly fascinated by it, as though listening to you talk about it reminded him of something he had before.

That fascinated you. It made you want to stay around him, the way he listened silently as you talked about the old films that were on the holotapes, the food that was still fresh and available, the music you could hear whenever you wanted to, not reliant on some two-bit radio host. He paid attention to you. And any time his deep, brown eyes focused on your lips it made your heart flutter in an admittedly unexpected manner.

Remembering that feeling, you tried again, hoping that your next approach might be something that interested him a little more than just conversation.

"You know how we used to pass time in the vaults?"

Over the sound of the evening breezes that whipped up the sand you could still hear Cooper sigh before he spoke.

"Now if you tell me that you wanna go out there again tonight to find an old blast radius board... well I am just going to have to shoot you."

You laughed at what you hoped was a joke and waved him off, despite the fact that he was still turned away from you, unable to see your gesture as he tried ignoring you in what you assumed was the hope that you might shut up and leave him alone.

"No, no no no no no. Just..."

The lump in your throat felt like it was about to choke you, so you swallowed the clump of nerves quietly, your voice trembling as you finished your sentence.

"... fooling around... y'know?"

Cooper turned to face you. You had piqued his interest, and you couldn't help but show the giddy glee on your face, the smallest smile crossing your lips as your eyes widened. But his words wiped away all hope that you had garnered in that short span of time.

"Oh... oh darlin'."

He laughed a little, each little sound of the short, sharp giggle like a slap to the face.

"I don't think you're ready for that at all."

You raised an eyebrow, defiant, irritated, and keen to know how he thought he had you pegged so quickly. You'd never talked about anything like that with him before. Was he assuming that you were a virgin based on how you behaved around him alone? Maybe he figured that the lack of flirting on your part was down to a complete lack of experience, when in reality, it was because every flirtatious quip he threw your way made you so nervous and flustered you felt like you might throw up.

"How come I'm not ready? I mean, I've... I've done stuff... I've done it!"

"The fat you're not saying it how it is makes me think that you are absolut-"

"I've had sex, Cooper. I've fucked before. I've been fucked."

Blinking off the irritation at being interrupted by you, Cooper pushed up the brim of his hat and stared directly at you, as though he was examining your, to see if you would stand up for yourself any further.

"By who? One of your little buddies underground? Fucking like little bunnies? I don't think that qualifies you, sweetheart."

"Why? Sex is sex..."

You said it with such confidence. As if you really knew. As if you hadn't spent your teenage years practising on your hand, holding a pillow close, lining up for that one girl in the vault who would sell practice kisses for extra bubble-gum. You'd had sex before, of course. You weren't a liar. Just because you'd only ever done it once didn't render it nonfactual. Just because it had only lasted for all of four minutes. Just because you weren't sure you even orgasmed, and your friend had told you that you'd know if you'd orgasmed. Just because it was all over so quickly, and he'd run off before anyone could catch you both, avoiding you at every opportunity after that.

"... Isn't it?"

"Oh no it ain't. Besides, like I keep telling you, it's different up here. Everything's different up here. And that includes fuckin'."

The way he said the word, consonants enunciated with such grit and vigour, filled your stomach with knots that began to tighten as you considered in what way things were so different.

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

Cooper sighed, exasperated, resigning himself to the fact that you were going to keep talking to him regardless of his short replies and attempts to end the conversation.

"You are a dog with a bone, huh? Ain't gonna let it go."

His yellowed teeth were exposed as his lips pulled back in a baring, mischievous smile. Those knots doubled, the ends being pulled by tension in your nervous system as Cooper's smirk put you into a dazed stupor.

"No, sir."

"Now, I don't remember signing on to be your personal tutor in all things apocalypse. Do I really need to show you how everything works up here?"

As your cheeks began to blush, you nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, sir."

You were hopeful for just a bit of a distraction. Something to help take the stress away. To relieve the tension that had been building up between you and Cooper as of late. You'd been studying him, watching the way he looked at you, fascinated by your perceived, and frankly obvious, innocence. The way his fingers moved, contributing to the skilful way he handled his gun and his ropes. The confidence, the charisma, the charms.

You wanted him, but you weren't quite sure how to broach the situation without it seeming desperate. But you were past that now. You were desperate For anything, just something. Something to cure the monotony of walking and hiding and fighting and surviving. You didn't want to just survive. You wanted to at least find a semblance of fun and pleasure in this nightmare you had found yourself in. And in the vaults, when board games and books and debates got boring, there was always fucking. That was what you desired most right now. The fact that Cooper happened to be the closest target for your desires was just a sweet miracle, or a cruel tease depending on how willing he was.

And luckily, he seemed agreeable.

"Well then, how about you come over here and let ol' Coop show you a little thing or two about how dirty you can really get up here in the mean, dusty Wasteland, hm?"

Your excitement was palpable, even though you were trying to keep your composure. There was no escaping the echo of the giddy squeal you let out as you jumped up from the bed and made your way over to Cooper. He waited in the far corner of the room, setting himself down on an old armchair as you stepped towards him, slapping his thighs as an indication of where he wanted you. And you did as you were told, following his instructions, knowing they hadn't led you astray so far in your time together.

It felt awkward at first, being so close to him. You shifted your weight nervously, trying to get comfortable while making sure Cooper was still at ease, which of course, he was. He always was. Nothing stirred him, he was forever at peace. Competent in any situation. Quick to adapt. And as you fidgeted and fussed, you felt his strong hands pushing you forward on his lap, until your chests were practically pressed together, his hands skirting over your lower back as he held you still. In command. In control. The sudden sensation of his hands on your body made your breath hitch, a soft, surprised squeal on the inhale that had Cooper raising his brow at you.

"Now... you agree that you asked for this, alright? Because I am not going to put my effort into entertaining your little whims if you're gonna get fussy and decide it's too much for you. I did warn you."

"Yes, you did, and I really don't think you needed to. I doubt there's too much different about it, and I've picked up what I needed to know pretty quickly from your other lessons, haven't I?"

Your retaliation to his insistence that you needed him to teach you everything, and that some things just might prove themselves a little too hard even for your levels of enthusiasm, had irritated him when he'd first met you. But now your optimism and sheer refusal to believe anything was too much for you were a source of entertainment for him. A challenge.

"That's fine then, darlin'. But I'll remember that."

His eyes bore into your soul, keeping your focus on him as he dared you to look away. They sparkled as he ran his tongue over his lips, the pretence of preparing for his next words covering the obvious flirtation in the way he dragged the flat muscle along his chapped skin.

"So, gimme a benchmark here, lil lady. How much foreplay was involved in your previous encounters? I'd hate to leave you high and dry."

"Foreplay...? What... uh, what is that?"

Cooper sighed, rolling his eyes before closing his eyelids over gently.

"Well, it's something like this."

He pushed a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, rough fingers following the curve and grazing over your neck as he let them drift down the front of your chest, tickling the exposed skin as far as your jumpsuit would allow before he took a hold of the zip at the front. A quick flit of his eyes up to you seemed to ask for permission, and your small, almost imperceptible nod, told him to keep going.

Slowly, painfully so, he pulled the zip down, watching as the centre of your torso was slowly revealed to him. Smooth skin, in comparison to his anyway, clear of any unnatural blemishes or war wounds. One calloused digit followed down your sternum to your stomach and back up, hooking under the left side of the fabric and pulling it over, then the other, exposing the top half of your body to him.

Cooper traced his fingertips over the top of your breasts, watching as your chest moved in and out, slowly, but exaggeratedly. The knots in your stomach felt like they might burst with the tension as his sharp, ragged nails crossed over your hardening nipples, a gentle tingle coursing through your veins.

"Well?"

"No... n-nothing like that... just grabbing..."

"Oh yeah? You like that? How about this?"

He closed two fingers around your nipple, one hand still on your back to keep you balanced as your body reacted to his touch. Between the two digits, you felt your nipples heating up, the slight, burning pain from the way he squeezed them sending a signal down your spine that seemed to affect every part of you. Tighter, tighter, and then as your eyes closed a little more, eyelids pressed tight, he would ease up to offer some relief.

"You like that? Like it rough?"

"I think... I think I like both."

"So, something like this?"

He teased your nipples once more, pressing harder with his fingertips, pulling them out and jiggling your breasts as he tugged at them, this lewder act interspersed with a gentle caress as he held your breast against the palm of his hand, carefully cupping it as he flicked his thumb over the sensitive and completely erect nipple.

You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, Coop's hand moved swiftly from your body to your cheeks, popping the lip back out as he pressed his thumb and forefinger into your face. Understanding the message, and seemingly showing this in your wide-eyed gaze, he let his rough, leathery hand make its way back down to your breast, cupping it once more as he spoke.

"Different, see? Pleasure is hard to come by out here. You gotta do it right when you've got the chance."

Cooper leaned into your neck, whispering the words low and slowly, his dry, chapped lips skimming over your skin as he continued.

"I bet down there they didn't know the first thing about real pleasure. Takes time, something like that. You gotta learn the body, gotta make it feel good."

His teeth grazed over your shoulder and back up along your neck before he pulled back, watching your eyes refocus from the haze of arousal.

"Did they make you feel good?"

"No."

You were confident in that statement. It hadn't felt good. It felt rushed. Clumsy. Shameful. And as you pondered it, your mouth remained open in a slight pout which trembled as Cooper asked his next question.

"And what about your pretty lips... did they kiss them?"

"A little..."

Cooper leaned in, his rough lips pressing onto yours with firm contact, his tongue staying in place as though he imagined that might be a bit too much for you right now. But that same level of restraint didn't keep him from letting his teeth catch onto your bottom lip, pulling it out, only letting go when you winced in surprise as the suddenness of the action.

"Didn't bite them either. Of course not, what am I thinking? That would be a little too adventurous for your kind."

His face took on a darker tone as he smiled knowingly towards you.

“And what about these pretty lips?”

Before you could piece together the question, his hand was diving into your jumpsuit, pushing down the front and past the waist, stroking against the front of your underwear which, by now, was soaking wet with your arousal.

“They touch these lips, huh?”

You gasped as he pushed your underwear to the side, stroking his fingers along your slick, plump pussy lips, withdrawing them soon after to taste you on his tongue, the way you had watched him taste the blood of enemies, the blood of victims.

“Stand up, darlin’… Why don’t you take that suit off, hm? Get yourself comfy.”

As you raised yourself up from his hips, your legs wobbled under you, not quite steady enough to support you so soon after being reduced to jelly by Cooper’s touch, his caramelised words that filled your ears, the sharp twang of his accent, the delicate cadence, the power rumbling underneath like an almost silent bassline.

“Do it slowly though.”

Cooper watched carefully as you stood nervously before him, shuffling out of your suit, stripping for him, your hips moving from side to side slow and steady, unintentionally sultry in the way you moved. Without taking his eyes from you he reached for his canteen, taking a long sip from it as you let your suit fall down over your legs, stepping out of it and pushing it to the side with your feet.

“That’s it, darlin’. Can’t do this half-hearted. I need to have access to all of you there. Now come sit back down.”

You held your arms in front of you, feeling far too exposed for the shelter you’d found for the evening. No windows, no locks on the doors. But it was difficult to focus on that worry for too long as you watched Cooper’s tongue flit back out over his lips, clear strands of drool sparkling in the light as he took you in, hungrily, dreamily.

“Turn around though. You face that way.”

The metal buttons on the front of his duster coat were cold against the skin of your back, but you leaned into them anyway. Cooper’s hand curved around your neck and up under your chin, holding your face forward.

“You keep an eye out, holler if you see anything coming. I’ll do everything else.”

A faint clicking sound, the safety on his gun being flicked to off, before those same fingers draped over your mound and down on to your lips, spreading them apart, the cool air of the decrepit room cooling the heat of your hot, aching cunt. With two fingers holding your lips apart, he let the middle digit tap against your clit, each tiny sensation turning your blood cold before heating it exponentially, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow as you felt a tingle in your abdomen.

The finger that tapped the sensitive bud began stroking it from side to side, laying flat against it length wise as Cooper strummed your body, still holding your chin in his hands, smiling to himself every time your back arched away from him in intense pleasure. Every nerve-ending was at his mercy. He was right, it was different up here. But you wondered how much of that was the Wasteland and it’s effect on sexuality and pleasure, and how much of it was just him. Cooper Howard, Wasteland bounty hunter, a past life he refused to talk about, the most charismatic monster you had ever met. His fingers, daintily crossing over your clit, as you felt his breath, silent except for an occasional hum of satisfaction in the form of a long moan. Maybe it was just Cooper who was different.

It was hard to focus on this new line of though as his hard fingertips clamped down on your clit, pinching it as he rolled it between his fingers. Even harder when he let his hand drop from your neck and instead began teasing at your nipples once more. Soft, cruel flicks over the hardened bumps, his fingers at work on your body, his lips kissing at the back of your neck. Moans growing louder, more frequent, as he let himself enjoy the act of making you squirm. You could tell he was having fun, as you rolled your hips back a little, feeling the thick bulge of his stiffening cock against your rear. You wondered how it might feel, how it might look, and what he could do differently with it.

“Cooper… Coop… I think I’m going to cum…”

His movements quickened, cock twitching against your body as he pinched tighter and pressed his fingers harder against your cunt.

“Don’t you dare, little lady.”

“Ok I’ll… I’ll try but… you have to… stop… please stop… Coop…”

He ignored your please, the whining, desperate begging as you tried to stop your body from the natural, encouraged reaction.

“Have some self-control, sweetheart.”

“Cooper, I really can’t… please… please stop touching me…”

“I absolutely will not.”

Your fingers dug into his thighs, but you noticed that you refused to move away from him. You wanted to do as he asked, wanted to hold yourself back from the brink of orgasm to prolong his touch, but you couldn’t risk him actually stopping, fearing that your body might crumble if his fingers left your quivering, pathetic body for only a second.

Each stroke against your increasingly wet and sensitive pussy had you trembling and shaking, and Cooper had to remove his hand from your breast to keep you steady, placing it under your chin and holding you steady by the neck.

“I am warning you, missy.”

“Cooper… I can’t stop…”

You shuddered and whined as your body gave in to the temptation, feeling a rush of heat and relief as you came on his lap, your arousal coating his pants, adding to the collection of stains and wear on them. But he didn’t stop then.

“No wait… seriously, Cooper… I can’t… I can’t take much more, honestly…”

“Listen, I told you. I said you better not cum. I wasn’t done with you yet.”

Your eyes began to sting with tears of exasperation as your body kept on pushing to its limits, conjuring up another wave of climax, tormenting you with never-ending bouts of arousal that kept you rutting against him, despite how painful it was to keep writhing into his body. You could feel your stomach knotting again, not much time between each orgasm to relax, and you dug your hands into his thighs, pushing your body up off of him as you tensed completely.

“Ok, this time, you do it on my command. You do it when I say you can, alright?”

“Cooper…”

“Don’t give me that pleading shit, you asked me to show you how things are done. Well this is how Cooper fuckin’ Howard does things. So are you ready? You gonna come for me?”

“C-coop… I’ll… I’ll try…”

“Good girl, now you keep that mouth making those whines and moans. I don’t need you to call out my name or anything, I know I’m all you’re thinking about.”

The praise, the self-confidence, the way his fingers seemed to be pulling your orgasm out, motioning for it to come closer to him.

“Come on, darlin’, come on…”

Your vision blurred as the climax came over you, body rolling and convulsing as you came once more at Cooper’s insistence, your cheeks stained with tears, salted water rolling through the layers of grime and clearing paths to your chin.

As you settled back down onto his lap with a shudder, you felt Cooper’s fingers stroking through your hair. He was surprisingly gentle, oddly calm, but you supposed that you deserved his kindness as you had done as he had asked, making up for your previous indiscretion. He was almost cooing, shushing you as you found your breath, establishing your sense of self once more after the overstimulating orgasm that shook your core.

“You seen enough of the big bad world for one day then?”

You probably had, but you still found yourself shaking your head, ignoring the way your body reacted with a violent twitch at the notion of Cooper’s hands delivering intense pleasure.

“A glutton for punishment, hm? Or just keen to learn?”

As you pondered your answer, Cooper seemed to have come to the conclusion for you, as he tapped your hips and began to shift underneath you.

“Alright then, get onto your knees.”

Positioning yourself at his feet, you couldn’t help but look up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at you with that unique brand of disdain and intrigue he had somehow mastered. You knew what was coming, what was about to happen, and your mouth began watering at the thought. What he might taste like. What he might look like.

You didn’t have to imagine for long though, as you could see his fingers working the belt of his pants, loosening it, unzipping his fly, and gripping his semi-erect cock at the base as he took it out, brandishing it. He kept close attention on your own eyes, a soft sigh of relief imperceptibly escaping his chest as he noticed your pupils widen, your mouth opening in preparation for him.

It was exactly as you had expected. The texture of the shaft was similar to that of his cheeks and his forearms, a similar colouring, though darker at the base and on the shaft which was tinted red. Thick, purple tinged veins covered it, winding around the length, cutting across the ridges of the scars.

“You can come closer, darlin’. I don’t know what they told you about mutations and radiation effects down there in your little utopia, but I can assure you… it doesn’t bite.”

The fear was palpable, clearly, but it was nothing to do with Cooper’s body and everything to do with your lack of experience, which, despite you arguing otherwise, was becoming plainly obvious even to you. You had only ever touched a cock with your hands outside of being quickly fucked. Several times you’d been cajoled into quickly stroking an erection under the blankets before your partner ran off to the bathroom, clean and tidy, flushing away the sins. And you were very well aware that there was always the option to suck on one, but it had never presented itself. It had never seemed that appealing to you. Until you were faced with Cooper’s.

He hadn’t even asked you to do either yet, but you found yourself curious, salivating over the thought of him, mind racing as you imagined how he might feel against your tongue.

“Can I taste it… you?”

Cooper smiled warmly, one of the few times you had seen him look at you with genuine pride.

“Now that is using your initiative. Of course you can.”

You kept your hands to yourself as you leaned in towards his body, content to let Cooper wield his length at you, his hand firm around the base as you inched closer, tongue pressed out over your lips. A strand of drool collected and spilled forward, hitting the floor in a soft patter just before the tip of your tongue came into contact with the tip of his cock.

A lot of the movements were instinctual, following your desires more than what you thought might be protocol as you dragged your tongue up the shaft and swirled over the blushing head of his cock. It tasted bitter, but in a pleasant way. Savoury, not sweet. Salted, a tang that stayed there for a few seconds after your tongue had moved on to another spot. A flavour you found yourself craving now.

Cooper gripped tighter and pushed forward, taking you by surprise as he slid himself into your mouth, his free hand moving to the back of your head, fingers curling into your hair. As the taste of him hit the back of your tongue, cock almost touching your throat, you coughed and spluttered a little.

“Fuck me, darlin’… do you need me to show you how to do this too?”

He looked down at you, filled with pity as he saw your face. Red cheeks, puffed out, lips stretched over the girth of his cock, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe.

“Breath through your nose… breathe in…”

You followed his instructions, instantly calmed when you found your lungs filling with air once more. Almost immediately back to enjoying yourself, the feeling of Cooper inside of you, the control he had as he held your head against him.

“Now… you don’t want to choke too much, so keep your tongue flat… yeah, just like that…”

It was so much easier like that, and you could feel your cheeks getting warmer and redder as you realised that not only had you embarrassed yourself with your spluttering and lack of knowledge, but that Cooper had clearly done this a lot.

“And your teeth… well, usually they’ll tell you to keep ‘em outta the way, but you know me… gotta be different…”

Taking the hint, you let your jaw close slightly, the pain of the stretch lessened, your teeth scraping along the top of his shaft as your tongue worked the underneath, sucking and rolling as much as you could while keeping it flat.

He didn’t say much else, and you couldn’t tell if he was particularly enjoying himself. It worried you, the fact that he had specific preferences, the way it was so clear how much more experienced he was than you. How many others had there been? And were they all better than you? As your mind wandered to your anxieties, you completely missed the fact that you had begun to drool all over yourself until Cooper relaxed his grip on your head and wiped at your chin with his thumb. Catching your eyes and sensing some of your worries, he was surprisingly quick to soothe you.

“You can swallow or spit or let it all spill out, I don’t mind makin’ a mess darlin’. But whatever you’re doing, you keep that up.”

You were so pathetically grateful for the encouragement, for the tiniest semblance of praise, that you felt yourself moaning involuntarily. The soothing motion of sucking on his cock, the taste of something new, the comforting knowledge that he was happy with your efforts. You could feel your clit throbbing, aroused by Cooper’s satisfaction, how pleased he was with the way you worked him over.

Which is why it surprised you so much when he pulled his cock from your mouth, your lips slipping off of it with a disgustingly lewd popping sound, drool spilling onto your chin in long strands which stretched from your lips to his cock and tore apart as he distanced himself from you.

And again, that sympathetic gaze, the way he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it.

“Oh, don’t you look at me with those big, sad eyes. You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. That was good, ‘specially for a first try…”

He winked to you as he spoke, causing your heart to skip enough beats that you thought you might die there and then.

“… It’s just that I’m all slicked up and ready to go now… so you wanna bend over for me? Or do you wanna come sit on my lap?”

“Uh… lap, please… I was kinda bent over for the last… first time.”

“Well, you come and take a seat then, darlin’, let ol’ Coop show you something new.”

You nervously settled your entirely nude body back down onto his thighs. Cooper’s hands were gentle against your shoulders as he pulled you backwards with him, leaning at a slight angle in the chair, his cock rigid and firm as it sat against your waiting cunt, coated in your drool which almost seemed to shimmer with the dancing light of the fire.

Then, so carefully, so gently, far more than you’d ever seen him be before, Cooper took hold of his cock at the base and slid it inside of you, one hand on your stomach as he braced you, keeping your body steady as he inserted himself further and further between your clenching walls.

“Bigger than before?”

You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the distinct stretch, his rough, textured cock forcing its way inside your cunt, pressed up to the hilt, testing your limits.

“Better?”

“Mhm…”

“Speak up, darlin’.”

With your voice strained and breathy, you managed to form some words.

“Yes… it’s better.”

“That’s it, good girl. Now, I’m gonna buck my hips, ok? You just try and keep your balance.”

Below you, Cooper shifted a little, his hips rolling backwards, inches of his cock escaping your tight, aching cunt, before he rolled them forwards and upwards, back into you. A slow, steady pace that he focused on keeping until you felt warmer, more relaxed.

“You got this, it’s like riding a horse.”

“I’ve never… hm… ridden a horse…”

Cooper chuckled, a low and rasping sound that sent shivers over your skin and seemed close enough to you that it was coming from inside of your body.

“Never ridden a ghoul before either, but you’re handling it alright for a first timer.”

You were coping ok, you had to admit, but you could feel your stomach muscles tensing, the knots back in full force as they tensed and tightened, loosened and frayed with each pump of his cock within you.

“Ah… Cooper…”

“Too much, darlin’? Does it hurt?”

There was a sense of genuine care in his tone, as though he had taken it upon himself to show you that yes, things were different up there in the Wasteland, but that didn’t always mean they were worse. Some things were good, if not a little bit difficult to take at first.

“A little…”

Cooper tilted your chin up, forcing your head to lean back completely against his shoulder. In a delicate move, one far more romantic than you imagined from him, he ran his thumb over your lips, angling his neck to look at them, his own mouth open ever so slightly, a monotonous panting as he kept his hips moving, increasing the speed and the force at which he entered you.

His eyes flicked up suddenly, looking into yours, catching your gaze and holding unblinking eye contact as he spoke.

“I know… I know… Just a little longer, though…”

He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock pushing against your body, enveloped in your hot, wet, velvety interior.

“I know it hurts… but I ain’t stopping, so don’t even ask… here…”

You watched as he brought a finger to your lips, offering it up to you.

“…you bite down on that if it gets too much, ok… but don’t hold back on those sweet sounds… I wanna hear you scream.”

With that vaguely threatening remark, he thrust up into you, banging against your body, spurring on your orgasm but unleashing a dull ache that spread through every sensitive part of you.

“Won’t… be long… keep it together… good girl… good girl…”

It felt good, the pain, the sting, the ache, the shivers. The fact that he was using you, finding pleasure in you. All of it culminating in Cooper’s nearing orgasm which you could sense was closing in on him. His movements were becoming more frantic, sloppier, and he was mouthing all manner of sweet nothings as he let his façade slip away.

And those soft mumbles opened up into a wide roar as he clung to your body, the hand on your neck cutting off the air to your lungs only briefly, one hand on your lap pressing sharp indents into your skin as he forced himself into you. The last few moments of his fevered thrusting, fucking you wildly, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he rutted into you in a dazed stupor before his body gave in. His cock throbbed, each pulse sending another rope of cum against your insides, filling you with his seed as he shuddered finally, slinking backwards into the chair and taking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from him.

You’d only managed to take a few steps forward before Cooper addressed you, opening his eyes to watch you standing there awkwardly, his cum dripping down your thighs, a warmth that quickly turned cool in the air of the room.

“Did I say you could get up?”

Panic settled in your chest, aware that you had waited until you felt his muscles relax, his body retreating from you, before you slid off his cock, expecting him to push you away anyway, like your first time. You assumed he was finished, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the idea that he might not be done with you.

“Are we… oh, Cooper, I really can’t take anymore.”

Even as you stood, you could feel your legs shaking, weakened by the intense orgasms, the way they tightened against his every movement.

“That’s different up here too then, I suppose.”

Cooper stood up from the chair, pacing towards you with a purposeful stride as he pushed his cock back into his pants, zipping them up as he reached you. You inhaled sharply as he placed his hand at the back of your head, those knots in your stomach beginning to form again, worried that a further, albeit pleasurable punishment was on the cards. But you were surprised as he slid his free hand around your back, tugging at your waist as he pulled you in close to him. A quick smile before his lips were on yours, the brim of his hat pushed upwards as he leaned into the kiss. Warm, gentle, the kind of kiss you’d seen in movies. Practised and confident, meaningful, sincere.

When he pulled back, your body following him a little before you settled back onto your feet, he smiled warmly.

“Sweet with the sour, darlin’. You gotta keep ‘em wanting more.”

“M-more?”

More as in now? Or more as in the idea that Cooper had enjoyed himself and would be willing to offer that kind of pleasure to you again. And he answered with a wink.

“Definitely. There’s a still a lot you’ve got to learn.”

#fallout #fallout amazon #if this flops I’ll nuke everything by the way this fuckin behemoth stressed me out so much lmaooo #x reader #finnie writes #cooper howard #the ghoul #fallout fic #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard fanfiction #cooper howard one shot #cooper howard smut #cooper howard imagine #fallout tv #fallout tv series #walton goggins #cooper howard x fem!reader

3K notes · View notes

nereidprinc3ss · 6 months ago

Note

Happy 2k babe! I have a request for fluffy Spencer smut based on the song "touch tank" by Quinnie! (the song gives me like golden retriever vibes so maybe you could put something about reader playing with his hair in there? I don't know I'm having later seasons fluffy hair Spencer brainrot and I never make requests, obviously feel free to ignore or change things if this is too specific! <3)

hi angel babe!!! i love this song!! and i too am always having later seasons fluffy haired spencer brainrot!! i wrote this super quick, please let me know if its any good, ILY!!! xo

warnings/tags: fem!reader, softdom!spence, sub reader, fingering, oral f receiving, sorta kinda overstimulation, implicit consent, praise n stuff, not proofread, written at 9 pm on a tuesday night, so fluffy

18+ (smut)

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

Spencer is clearly almost asleep on the couch next to you. That’s one of many things you find endlessly fascinating and charming about him—his ability to fall asleep anywhere at any time within minutes.

So you probably shouldn’t speak. But the stakes are low; it’s barely 7:30 in the evening.

“Spence?” You whisper. His eyes don’t open, but his thumb goes back to making little passes where it’s settled over your hip.

“Hm?”

“Don’t fall asleep.”

He smiles, slight but beautiful—yet his eyes remain stubbornly closed.

“Why not?”

“’Cause I want you to be awake.”

“Then you can’t keep playing with my hair like that.”

You pout as if he can see you.

“But I like playing with your hair.”

Spencer hums, and you can tell you’re losing him again as you continue carding your hand through stupidly soft locks.

“One or the other. You can’t have both.”

“I love you both, though,” you complain. “I don’t know who to pick.”

The grin has been steadily fading from his relaxed face but it flickers back to life for a moment.

“I’m getting a haircut tomorrow. That should make it easier for you.”

“What?”

It’s the genuine horror in your voice that finally gets him to open his eyes. A little line appears between his brows as he regards you with bleary eyes.

“What what?”

“You didn’t consult me!”

The momentarily tensed muscles in his face relax and he rolls his eyes affectionately before craning his neck to kiss your forehead.

“I’m not in the habit of requesting your approval before I make choices like that.”

“Spencer, please don’t cut your hair,” you beg, genuinely distraught. “You can’t. It’s so so pretty.”

“It’s too long, baby. I don’t want to grow it out again.”

“You don’t have to grow it out! Just don’t get it any shorter! It’s perfect how it is,” you insist. Spencer narrows his eyes as you plead with him. But you stand firm in your position. His hair is sort of shaggy, sure—too long to be considered cropped and too short to be considered long. It’s like a beautiful curly halo and it’s perfect playing-with length. “I’m serious. I’m asking you to not cut it short, please. This is what I want for my birthday.”

“Your birthday’s not even—”

“Pretty please with a cherry on top? I love your hair so much and I love you more but I just really don’t want you to cut it, please—”

He’s laughing when he silences you with a soft kiss, and you melt, sighing against him as his hand slides up and down the back of your thigh. When he knows you’ve been sufficiently soothed, he pulls away, still smiling.

“Oh my god, baby—are you about to cry?”

“Stop!” you whine, burying your face into a throw pillow and screwing your eyes shut. Your nose crinkles up with embarrassment. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and though he’s no longer outright laughing, traces of humor still color his lowered voice as he kisses all over the side of your face. “I had no idea you felt that way. I didn’t realize I’d be causing you so much emotional distress if I cut my hair.”

You sniffle away any unfortunate emotional reactions and turn your head back to him. He’s ducked down slightly, still peppering kisses over your jaw and neck, and you lace your fingers through the contentious hair.

“Obviously I’m not the boss of you. If it makes you uncomfortable I want you to cut it. But I really like it how it is.”

He hums against your throat and the vibrations send a chill down your spine. You arch against him unconsciously.

“You are definitely the boss of me. I don’t know anyone else who I like receiving orders from so much.”

“Hotch,” you whisper, and you can feel Spencer’s teeth against your neck as he smiles and presses another loving kiss to the sensitive spot above your collarbone.

“Not the kind of orders I was talking about. And I don’t particularly care what Hotch thinks of my hair, honey.” He kisses tenderly until he earns a tiny whimper from you—which sates him enough to raise his head until you’re eye-level again. His hand, however, has other plans—it creeps south, slipping under the waistband of your pajama pants. “What if we compromise? I just get it trimmed so it doesn’t keep getting in my eyes when I have a loaded gun in my hands, yeah?” You nod dutifully, looping your arms around his neck as his fingers dip beneath your underwear. When you don’t reply verbally, he prompts meaningfully, “okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, voice small as you look into his searching eyes.

For a few moments, when he finally pushes his fingers against your clit and begins rubbing with slow, gentle strokes, his eyes are everywhere on your face—then they focus back on your eyes, watching with that habitually intense interest permeated with a sense of devotion—like he wants to see exactly what pleasure looks like reflected in your irises. Like he could see through them to your brain and watch your dopamine transmitters working overtime. A soft moan escapes through parted lips, which seems to spur Spencer on. He drags more arousal over your aching bud and openly chuckles at your airy sigh of pleasure, unable to resist from giving you a short kiss.

“Feels good?”

“Mhm,” you breathe.

“Mhm,” he agrees, kissing you again just as quickly before pulling back to study your face once more. “Pretty girl.”

“You’re pretty,” you insist, with what little brain power is available to you as you rake one hand through his hair. He smiles, eyes pinging between your own and your mouth like he can’t decide where to look.

“I’m pretty?” he asks, speaking over another quiet, yet unabashed moan. You nod, hips bucking slightly off the couch cushion as he speed up the motion of his hand. The grin widens and his soft amber eyes soften further. “You’re so sweet.”

You give him a moan he can’t ignore and he takes it as a signal to slip two fingers into you, sighing in what sounds like relief just as your breath catches. The way he seems to feel your pleasure will never get less erotic. Once he’d explained it—something to do with mirror neurons—but whatever the reason, watching the way his arousal rises with yours is exhilarating.

A squeaking sound is expelled from your lungs and your whole body tenses, propelling you maybe an inch upward involuntarily.

His lips part the same as yours—but only allowing another dry laugh to pass between them.

“Relax. I’ll come to you.”

You hum as he leans down and kisses you back into the pillow—a proper kiss, this time, lips parted and the tip of his tongue grazing yours—all the while, still pumping his fingers much deeper than your own could ever manage. Each moan and gasp he allows you to release freely, only barely parting from your lips every few seconds to let you breathe and make your noises. When his fingers begin pumping faster, and you can hear it, you whine, knees clamping shut as the small of your back jumps away from the couch.

“Fuck,” you pant against his lips.

“Need you to keep your legs open, baby,” Spencer reminds you gently, giving you a peck and a moment to relax as his hand stills.

“I don’t think I can,” you admit shyly, still wriggling. “Um, can you—can you use your mouth, please?”

Your boyfriend chuckles again and your cheeks get warmer. Momentarily you allow yourself to be grateful that his face is pressed too close to your own for him to be really be looking at you.

“You still have to keep your legs apart for that.”

“I know. It’s easier when—when you’re not inside.”

The smile in Spencer’s voice when he replies gives you butterflies as if he’s not knuckle deep in you already.

“I bet you think that’s true.”

“It is!” you whine.

“You’ve never had your thighs wrapped around your head so tightly your ears pop, have you?”

“That did not happen.”

“Only once,” Spencer reassures you. “And I happen to like your thighs. So no harm done. Go lie down on the bed.”

You let out a small chirp as he withdraws his fingers from you and your waistband snaps back into place against your skin.

“Where are you going?” you ask suspiciously, once you’re on semi-steady feet and watching him rise from the couch too. At once he kisses your forehead and grabs your ass—the contrast is dizzying.

“To wash my hands,” he says, popping the fingers that were just in you into his mouth like a preliminary clean up. “Go,” he urges, jutting his chin in the direction of the bedroom door. You hang from him just a second longer, biting back a smile, before tearing yourself away and only half-skipping to the bedroom.

Only a moment or two after you flop joyfully down on the mattress, he appears in the doorway again, immediately noticing the way you’re practically vibrating with excitement and unable to hide your grin as he approaches. It seems the smile is contagious—he’s sporting one of his own as he climbs over you.

“You’re adorable,” he murmurs toothily, kissing you once and then speaking again, “I love you so much.”

It’s exactly the kind of thing that makes you feel all soft and shy and giddy and speechless—even as he gives you one more parting kiss and then is sitting up to slide your pants off.

Maybe even especially then.

The sweetness dissipates only a little, still hanging thick in the air as you kick your bottoms off, and he leans back down, pushing your shirt over your chest and pressing kisses to your ribs and down your tummy. He doesn’t waste much time, only taking one brief detour to suck a mark and sink his teeth into your inner thigh until your breath catches loud enough to appease him. Then it’s all easy—his cool fingertips trailing up and down the backs of your thighs as he kisses all over and around your core. Intimacy with Spencer is definitely a spectrum, and while you can always feel the depth of his love for you in every touch, right now it’s so tangible, so potent you can feel it in your teeth.

You coo when one of the kisses finally sticks, lacing your fingers through the hair you love so much and pushing it out of the way as he laps gently at you. He looks as beautiful as always in the golden hour light as it filters through the window, but you’ve always thought he’s just that extra bit prettier when he’s eating you out.

Visually you’re entranced—it’s only when he begins easing you into the deep end with the flicking of his tongue that your brow knits and you gasp.

“Spencer,” you whisper, and it melds into a louder gasp. “Baby.”

He hums into you, reaching around your thigh to grab one of your wrists. You allow him to drag your hand from his hair and intertwine your fingers, his hand on top of yours, pressing them against your stomach where he sweeps his thumb back and forth over your knuckles.

The display of tenderness only makes you ache deeper in your belly, singing in airy, open-mouthed praise for him with a moan you know he would describe as pretty. Spencer says things like that often. He always talks about you like you’re an art form. When it comes to talking about touching you, he’s especially poetic.

When he begins to suckle, your moans get a little more explicit.

But he likes those ones just fine, too.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, though it’s a little choked, as you writhe just slightly against him. “That’s so good—oh my god.”

The hand that’s not holding yours rapidly changes position—pressing your thigh to the side with his elbow while he slips his fingers inside you once more.

At that, you really do choke, your body attempting to sit bolt upright but set off balance by the way your hips buck. You moan, loud, lilting, head still lifted to watch as he begins fucking you with his fingers. Your fingers brush through his hair several times before you’re anchoring your hand in it and falling back.

“Wh—please, baby, I can’t—”

But you can, and you both know it. You always do this; your body sends you signs that you’re over-indulging and fights to escape the stimuli and Spencer has learned to recognize your false flags for what they are. His hand speeds up along with his tongue and you cry out again, fighting to keep your legs open and your hips on the bed as every nerve in your body seems to light up neon.

“Oh—Spencer I’m gonna come,” you warn, all high pitched and synthesized into one word. He simply hums a long mhm in acknowledgment, and decides at that moment to brush his fingers over that spot inside of you which proves to be exactly the right button to trigger your detonation.

You can’t help the way you twist then as your orgasm washes you out—jaw dropped as your final keen starts loud, sputters into silence, and melts into an exhausted whine as your hips wind down. Spencer (wisely) adjusts his position, letting go of your hand only so he can sit up as your thighs clamp shut hard. But he’s still pumping his fingers as you writhe, his own mouth hanging open and groaning as you mewl. You watch him through half-lidded eyes, ready to beg him to stop—but as usual, he knows your body better than you do. An orgasm that you had thought was on its way out gets a second life and you can’t even breathe as you feel it so deep within you, pinpointed to one spot of focus, that you have to curl in on yourself, keeling onto your side because it’s simply too intense.

Either your vision goes black or your eyes are simply closed—regardless, time ceases for an unquantifiable moment, and you come to with Spencer rubbing your back and murmuring your name.

“What did I do to you?” he laughs, not unkindly.

Your back arches as mild aftershocks trickle through your system.

“I don’t know,” you slur. “Dark magic.”

He allows himself to be pulled on top of you once more, and you tangle your hands in his hair again.

“But you’re okay?” he murmurs, using his dry hand to play with your hair and brush over your cheek.

“Mhm,” you nod, eyes fluttering shut once more. Then you laugh, sudden and unexpected to both of you. “I think. That was intense. I felt that one in my soul.”

You smile as he exhales a laugh against your skin.

“Okay,” Spencer sighs after you catch your breath, bumping his nose against yours before sitting up—this time, not allowing you to pull him back down. “I need to take a shower. You should come with me.”

“Five more minutes,” you mumble. He raises his eyebrows.

“But this is your last chance to wash my hair before it’s a whole inch shorter tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you laugh, but it turns deadly serious very quickly. “Spencer, I am not letting you cut a whole inch off your hair. I need that inch.”

“For what?” He snorts.

You smile big, glad he didn’t see your joke coming for once.

“Handles! Duh!”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fic

2K notes · View notes

bi-writes · 19 days ago

Note

Does Simon ever ask MOB about her family? If someone is out looking for her?

mail-order bride

"olways wanted to ask," simon murmurs. he talks into your hair, his face pressed close to you as he hugs you closer. it's late; the black cat is curled up on the windowsill, and the orange one is under the covers, tucked into the space between you and simon's feet. your eyes flutter open a little more at the sound of his voice, laced with sleep.

"ask what?"

"about before."

you close your eyes, pressed your face into his chest, and he smooths a big palm down your back.

"is there someone waiting for ya?"

"no," you say softly.

"were ya running from somethin'?"

you shake your head slowly. "no, simon."

"no one is lookin' fer ya? no one at oll?"

you curl your fingers around his shirt, your lip trembling just a little. you're glad for the darkness of the room. he can't see the struggled look on your face as you try and compose yourself.

"why are you surprised?" you sniffle. it's the first time in a long time that you suddenly feel vulnerable. in the many months it has been since you've been married to him, you have not felt anything but love. even before you understood the connection you had, simon has always been kind and unnervingly considerate and endlessly thoughtful. every insecurity you ever had has slowly faded into the background. you have never felt more beautiful, more secure, more supported, more deserving, ever in your entire life; but this began with simon. everything that came before him, you want to forget, you want to make a distant place that you don't recognize anymore. because as soon as you think about it, all of it comes back. the drop in your chest tells you enough. "no one's ever wanted me, simon."

if i disappear, i'm not sure who would even think to look for me.

his hand in your hair tightens. big fingers scratching along your scalp, drawing you close, and when you open your eyes, you see his own looking back at you.

the feeling in your chest is gone. simon is here. simon would come for you. wherever you are, whatever happens to you, simon would notice, simon would listen, simon will come if you cry.

he would notice if you went missing for even a few minutes. even if he was gone, he would know.

"well...i want you, baby," simon whispers, and you crawl over him, laying on top of him, trying to wrap yourself around him and smother him because fuck, i love you so much.

simon never brings it up again. he doesn't need to. the only family of yours he needs to be concerned with is himself.

and the nitwit biting his toes under the fucking blankets.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #order up

1K notes · View notes

simplyraeblue · 3 months ago

Text

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀

please stop (but actually don't) (kirishima x reader)

ALL CHARACTERS AGED UP !femreader when your boyfriend kirishima is obsessed with seeing you overstimulated bc he has a pleasing kink (man LOVES to see you crashed out) WARNINGS: swearing, NSFW, sexually explicit content, oral (f receiving) smut, y'know the usual •◡ ◠ word count: 902 A/N: since my bakugo x reader has been doing well... here's another dose ya fiends! It is shorter, but don't worry, there's more MHA smut to come ;) Also, I'm still very new to writing smut so bear with me, and feel free to offer suggestions!

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀

you weren’t sure what day it was, how late it had gotten into the night, or even what your name was at this point. How many orgasms have you had? You had lost count after the third one, tears welling in your eyes at the overstimulation.

“K-Kiri, I can’t.” you whined, tugging on the red head of hair that sat between your legs. As if he wanted to torture you, Kirishima licked one last stripe up your swollen clit before looking up at you.

“c’mon baby, just one more for me.” he gave you his best puppy dog eyes, knowing you’d fall for it. It wasn’t that you didn’t feel amazing, it was that the man never let up until you were crying from overstimulation and unable to respond to words.

Kirishima loved pleasing you, it was his favorite thing even above fucking you. He even called it ‘making love’, although your sex didn’t resemble those words with the way he drilled himself into you endlessly until you were a puddle of mush under his touch. But with his focus on pleasuring you, he could do it over and over without losing his own stamina, and he loved seeing you crashed out from orgasms.

And the sight of your face, as you came down from your release, was his own form of heaven.

“’n can’t” your voice came out as a whimper. Kirishima merely hummed into your thigh as he placed a soft kiss on your skin. “Baby it’s too much.”

“please, my love?” he asked, and before you could answer he kissed your clit, making you moan in response. As you struggled to catch your breath, he placed more kisses all over, soon replacing his lips with his tongue. “wanna make you feel good, please just let me make you feel good.”

You couldn’t say no, at this point, you couldn’t say much of anything between the moans Kirishima was now dragging out of you with every gentle caress of his tongue between your folds. When you felt two of his fingers enter you, you gripped his soft hair tighter, allowing your hips to grind his tongue in response.

“don’t stop, p-please don’t stop,” you begged him, feeling him chuckle against you. The overstimulation was making you see stars, drool pooling in your mouth as you squeezed your eyes shut in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Kirishima gave you head like your juices were the only thing that could hydrate him. He was relentless, and even after he was drawing you towards another orgasm you realized it wouldn’t end with this one.

“I won’t stop baby, don’t worry,” Kirishima responded, increasing the pace of his fingers working inside of you. You felt him hit the soft spot that he loved so much, curling his fingers to keep striking it over and over.

That knot was already beginning to form in the lower region of your abdomen, tightening easily after already being prepped. Had it ever really been released? Kirishima continued to fuck you with his fingers, his mouth sucking and licking at your clit sending electricity straight to your brain. Your body reacted with your back arching, drool now seeping from your open mouth as you moaned his name.

“Kiri, please I’m gonna.... nn gonna cum again.” you were surprised your fucked out brain could even form the words, but he already knew it was close by the way your walls tightened around his fingers.

He wanted to taste you again, he would beg and plead for it if he had to. “be a good girl and cum on my face. Now.” Kirishima took your clit into his mouth again after speaking, sucking it between his lips and giving it a light nibble as he curled his fingers faster inside of you.

The knot inside of you snapped, and your body spasmed as your released crashed over you. With your ears ringing and Kirishima’s name on your lips, you felt yourself gush on his fingers; all the while he lapped up every bit of your juices. You grinded into his tongue and fingers for what felt like minutes, allowing yourself to give into every muscle spasm.

When he finally felt like he’d succeeded, Kirishima released your clit from his mouth and began placing kisses and nibbles to your inner thighs (right next to the numerous hickies he’d already left there). “mmm taste so good, my love.” he hummed as he pulled himself up to cup your cheek in his hand, kissing your lips tenderly. “that’s my beautiful girl, all crashed out for me just from my mouth.”

“n-no more, Kiri I can’t take another one.” you murmured between deep breaths, and you wiped his face to clear your slick from it before kissing him again.

“you’ve already made such a mess for me.” he was right, your juices had squirted all over the bed (or at least what his mouth missed). “why stop now, we already have to clean up.”

“nnn Kiri...” you whined, before you suddenly felt his cock teasing your entrance. You looked up at Kirishima with wide eyes, finding his blown-out pupils and smirking lips.

“are you sure you don’t want me to pull another orgasm out of you?”

You couldn’t say no to that, and now, a full hour later, you found yourself being carried to the bathtub by Kirishima, completely spent from even more orgasms.

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀

Link to Bakugo x reader here (word count: 2,328)

Link to Shoto x Reader here

(word count: 1,800) Link to Kaminari x reader here (word count: 2,680) Link to Hawks x reader here (word count: 1,903) Link to Aizawa x reader here (word count: 1,930)

#mha fanfiction #bhna fanfiction #my hero academia #my hero academy fanfiction #mha smut #eijirou kirishima #kirishima eijirou #mha kirishima #bnha eijiro kirishima #eijirou kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima x reader #kirishima smut #bnha kirishima #kirishima x you

640 notes · View notes

thef1diary · 11 months ago

Text

Keep Going | C. Sainz

Requested on wattpad: “hey could you write a chapter about Carlos making you finish over and over again on his tongue and fingers?”

Warnings: 18+ smut, no plot just straight up filthy smut, fingering, oral (fem receiving), overstimulation, slight degradation, praise, slight humiliation (barely)

Pairing: carlos x fem!reader

wc: 1.1k+

Note: this is probably the filthiest shit I wrote, loved every second of it.

Your legs were shaking now, still resting over Carlos' shoulders as he continued to tease your pussy with his fingers.

He was still fully clothed, only having his sleeves rolled up while you were completely stripped naked. Your gaze couldn't waver away from him, but you couldn't help but feel humiliated based on the vast difference of your attires—or well, your lack of clothing.

"C'mon mi amor, this is just the beginning," he looked at you with a sultry smile for a brief moment before slipping his finger back in your cunt.

Your hands grabbed the sheets around you, trying to ground yourself as you thought about how the rest of the night would go. This was only your second orgasm, and Carlos wasn't in the mood to stop.

Without a warning, he quickened his movements, slipping in a second and even a third finger right away. Your thighs threatened to snap shut together as the pleasure radiated through you but Carlos didn't let that happen.

Still maintaining his brutal pace, he used his free hand to lift one of your legs off his shoulder before pushing it up towards your chest. "Hold it there," he instructed, telling you to hold both your legs so he was given more freedom to do as he pleased.

His fingers curled at the same time as his lips reached your clit. Sticking out the tip of his tongue, he brushed the nerve with minimal, barely there touches.

You whined in response, wanting more. "Carlos, more please," you didn't mind resorting to begging knowing that he wouldn't be able to resist your pleads.

He quickly retracted his mouth, but before you could protest, his other palm made contact with your swollen clit. You bucked your hips up in response, a low moan leaving your lips.

"You're going to take what I give you." He brought his palm down once more, this time a little harder than the last. He kept his fingers resting on your clit, dragging down before pinching it between his fingers.

The fingers inside your pussy easily slip in and out, your wetness dripping down to the bedsheet underneath. You struggled to keep a strong grip on your thighs, sweat building up threatening your hands to slip away.

But the thought of presenting yourself to him, showing him your cunt so he could tease it endlessly before making you finish over and over again was just the motivation you needed.

He continued his brutal pace until you were writhing as another orgasm washed over you. The grip on your thighs eased away as your hands found their way into Carlos' hair.

Resting your feet flat on the bed, you had unintentionally closed them together as the pleasure consumed you. Carlos had lapped up your cum while his fingers slowed down but never stopped moving.

Catching your movement, he removed his mouth away letting you close your legs tighter. But he didn't move his fingers away, letting them reach deeper in your pussy, making you moan louder.

He let you bask in post orgasmic relief but it was very brief as you realized Carlos wasn't going to stop moving his fingers. That breath of relief turned into a cry of frustration as tears threatened to fall from your eyes.

"Spread your legs, puta, I'm not done with you yet," he instructed as he pressed his thumb against your clit while he removed his fingers from you.

"Carlos," you cried as a tear slipped down your cheek, his other hand was quick to brush it away as he looked at you with a smirk. You didn’t register his command until he slapped the back of your thigh, forcing your legs to spread.

"What happened, love? Too sensitive?" He teased as he pressed harder, slowly rubbing your clit in small circles.

He slid his thumb down, gathering your wetness before teasingly pressing in your hole but not inserting his finger in yet. Using his other hand, he separated your folds before swiping his tongue across your cunt.

Placing loud, wet, filthy kisses on your cunt, you squirmed under his touch. You didn’t know whether to pull away from his touch or press against it. But you did know one thing, you loved this more than you thought you would.

Your eyes rolled back as the waves of pleasure took you under, your mouth hanging open but the sounds leaving it were deaf to your own ears. You didn’t think you could cum this fast right after your last orgasm but you enjoyed riding the high until it became too unbearable.

Carlos loved every second of watching you lose your mind in the depths of pleasure, and he loved it even more knowing that he was the cause of it.

He watched as your eyes closed, but he was quick to comment on it, “eyes on me, cariño”

You were glad you listened, because the sight in front of you would’ve made you cum alone. Carlos was already looking at you, but his fingers had spread your cunt out again. What he did next made you arch your hips up, chasing the pleasure he was giving you.

You watched the bead of saliva drip down from his lips onto your slit, and he watched as you felt it sliding down.

His fingers made his way back inside your used cunt, spreading his spit. He pulled you closer with his other hand as you attempted to squirm away, “I thought you didn’t want me to stop, don’t try to move away now,” he spoke, reminding you of your pleads for him to keep going when he teased you but left you hanging.

He held you in such a position where you were unable to move further, but as he continued his finger movements, you began grinding against his palm.

"That's it baby, you're doing so well, just a little more,” Carlos praised you, noticing how his words affected you.

"I don't think I can,” you grasped onto his arm but you didn’t exactly want him to pull away, you just held it to ground yourself.

"I know you can, I won't stop until you can't think,” he stated in a tone of finality.

He pulled out a few more orgasms out of you, however you don’t even remember exactly how many more Carlos convinced you for since he kept saying “one more.”

He left your cunt bruised in all the right ways, making you feel like putty as you quite literally melted in between the bedsheets. Carlos joined you after he cleaned you up, moving you higher up on the bed to avoid touching the wet spot.

“You did so well for me, mi amor,” Carlos muttered in your ear but lightly chuckled as he realized you had already dozed off.

#f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #thef1diary fic #f1 x reader #f1blr #carlos sainz fic #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #f1 smut #smut #f1 imagines #f1 fandom

1K notes · View notes

hanniebaeee · 5 months ago

Text

Always You

Best friend's brother Lee Know x fem!reader

Warning: Just a bit of kissing.

Summary: You're in trouble and the first person you call is your best friend's brother, Minho.

Genre: fluff

Minho sat scrolling absent-mindedly through his phone as a movie played on the TV in the background. He was lonely and everyone he knew seemed to be busy. His best friends are out with their partners. His sister was on a date. He had no idea where you were. He wondered what you were up to. It's been a few weeks since you guys spoke and he missed you.

Placing the phone on his lap, he looked back at the tv and sighed. This is so boring.

He glanced down at his phone as it vibrated on his lap. His heart skipped a beat as your name flashed on the screen. He was quick to grab it, pressing it to his ear.

'Y/N?'

Your breathing wasn't right. You were stuttering and crying and he was on his feet, already moving out of the living room.

'Minho? Minho, oh my god!' You couldn't form words as your sobs took over.

'Y/N, where are you? Are you hurt?' Minho's questions were urgent as he was already out of his apartment, speed walking to his car.

'Minho, I don't know where I am. I'm so scared, can you please come and get me? Please?' You cry and his heart sank.

'Jagi, send me your location and sit tight, yeah? I'm on my way.' Minho said, waiting and looking at your location.

'Are you hurt? What happened?!' He asked, driving - already skipping a red light.

'I fell and I think I twisted my ankle... I'm not even dressed right, Minho. I'm, I'm -'

'It's ok. I'm on my way.' Minho said, trying to console you.

His heart was racing as he sped through to find you. You were his younger sister's best friend. Your family had moved to Korea when you were in middle school and you all grew up together. Being a foreigner had been hard and you did face some level of bullying and racism at school, but Minho and his sister, Hana had been your pillars of support. Minho was fiercely protective over you both and it never channged even as you got older.

You and Hana were still best of friends. Minho had moved out of his family home after college, but he did stay in the same city. You and Hana too worked nearby, so you all met every now and then. It's been a while now, and he couldn't help but feel a flood of emotions course through his body as he thought of you.

Minho has had a soft spot for you for years. Hana teased him endlessly for this. And he was sure that was a little in love with you. He tried his best to ignore these feelings as he didn't want to complicate your relationship. You were one of the nicest persons he knew - you were kind, you were so caring and loyal and above everything, you were always there.

Unknown to Hana, he called you whenever he felt like things were getting out of hand. On his most stressful days, he would ask you to come over, you would share a drink and hold his hand until his calmed down. Nothing more, nothing less. You gave him support. You gave him your time and your presence, no matter when he wanted it. And you never asked for more.

Minho looked at the map and saw that he was close. His eyes fell on your shivering form at the side of a secluded road. Stopping the car, he was out in an instant, making his way over to you.

'Y/N!'

Your head snapped up and you were crying harder at the sight of him. He was on his knees in front of you, hugging you tightly. Pulling back, he checked you for any injuries and then he saw you swollen ankle. You wore a navy blue sequined dress that fell to your mid thigh and heels - you never liked heels. You were way too clumsy on them. You shivered and Minho quickly draped his jacket over your exposed shoulders before helping you stand. You wince in pain and said, 'I don't think I can walk, Minho. I'm so sorry, I can't-'

You weren't even done talking, when he picked you up bridal style, making you gasp. After helping you into the passenger seat safely, Minho was driving again.

'What happened?' He asked.

'I had a fight with Lisa. She dragged me to a party and tried to set me up with her friend. She said some really mean things when I refused, she kinda forced me and...I said I wanted to go home, she agreed to drive, but then, ditched me in the middle of the road. We fought again and she kinda pushed me. These stupid heels-'

'What kind of friends do you keep Y/N?!' Minho scolded, glaring at you. 'Why wasn't Hana aware of this?'

'Hana had plans, I didn't want to bother her' You said sadly.

'Its just a date Y/N. You always come first.' Minho said.

'Im sorry Minho. My dad is out of town and if my parents ever knew, they would never let me out of the house again. You know them... Yours was the only face that came to my mind when -' You pull at your dress self-consciously, trying to cover your thighs as much as possible.

You fall silent and Minho looks at you for a second before his eyes are back on the road. His heart fluttered at the thought. He was the only one you thought of. He placed a hand on your knee, patting gently.

'I'm sorry i got mad. I was so worried when you called crying. I don't even know how I got here.' Minho said with a sigh. 'How does the ankle feel?'

'It's ok, Lino.' You said, and smile as you see a small smile on his face. 'My ankle hurts though.'

He takes you straight to the emergency room, where you get your ankle looked at and bandaged. He carried you to the car even though you told him a hundred times that you can just take a wheelchair. Then he takes you to his apartment, and orders some food.

You sit on his sofa, watching him plate up the food and hand your plate to you. You eat in silence, his eyes not leaving you.

'What?' You ask, feeling the heat creep up your neck.

'Why was Lisa trying to set you up with some random guy?' Minho asked, eyebrows furrowed.

'She's like that. She thinks I don't date anyone 'coz I can't get a date on my own.' You said, chewing on your food. 'She can't wrap her head around the fact that maybe I don't want to, you know.'

'Why don't you want to?' Minho asked, keeping his plate on the coffee table and turning to face you.

'I just-' You contemplate whether it's safe to say the truth or not. 'Lino, you know why.'

'I do?' Minho asked, and you know he does. He just didn't want to acknowledge anything.

'Don't you?' You ask, tilting your head in question. 'After all this time?'

'I need to hear you say it.' Minho said, moving closer.

'Why won't you say it?' You ask, your heart hurting at his avoidance. 'Don't I come running anytime you need me? I'm always here aren't I? You've always known. Since high school, Lino.'

'Y/N-'

'Don't tell me that you don't think about that camping trip. If you pretend that it didn't happen, it won't go away.' You say, tears blurring your vision.

You were in your first year of college and you had gone on a camping trip with Hana and Minho. The siblings went on to fight throughout the day and by nighttime, Hana refused to even sleep in the same tent. But they literally had no other option, so you offered to sleep in the middle to which they reluctantly agreed. Late into night, you heard sniffling and turned to face Minho, who was in tears.

'Lino, what happened?' You whispered, moving closer to him.

'Hana thinks I'm not a good brother. My father thinks I'm not a good son. Im just a fucking failure-'

'Yah, what are you even talking about?!' You asked, pulling your hand out from under your blanket to wipe at his tears. 'Hana just wanted to win the fight. You know that.'

'They keep doing this. They keep telling me I'm not good enough!'

'Lino, you're good enough. More than good actually. People say mean things just to ruffle you when you're right. I'm sure they don't even mean it. Don't you trust me?' You asked, cupping his cheek with your hand. 'You're the best.'

Minho wiped the tears off his face and opened his arms.

'Can we cuddle?' He asked. 'Please?'

You stare at him, surprised. You've never done this before. But you nod and settle underneath his blanket, your back presses to his chest. He makes a cocoon with the blanket around you, his arms tight around you. Sleep comes almost immediately in his warm embrace. But late into the night, you turn around in your sleep, and open your eyes as your nose touched his.

He opens his eyes too, both your faces so close - noses touching, lips so so close. His eyes drop to your lips and his arms around you tighten, pulling you as close as humanly possible. You let it happen - his lips are so soft and warm and gentle on yours.

'It's so fucking hot!' Hana's loud voice had you both jumping apart. Minho turned to the other side, breathing heavily and you remained silent as Hana sat up and tossed her jumper to the side. The next morning, the siblings apologized and made up. You and Minho never spoke of this incident after that day. But you both knew that deep down, you were both in love.

'I was afraid' Minho said, slowly. 'I didn't even know if you wanted to kiss me back. I felt like I had just done it and you didn't even have a chance to push me away. And then Hana woke up and-'

'You're an idiot if you thought I didn't want that.' You said, shaking your head. 'If I felt violated that day, I won't be here every time you wanted my company, Minho.'

Minho nodded and sighed.

'I don't want to ruin anything, Y/N. Hana loves you a lot and I can't-'

'Hana knows that I like you, you pabo.' You said and he stared at you like you had sprouted horns.

'She doesn't mind, does she?.' Minho said.

'Oh no, she loves the idea of us together.' You said, wanting to laugh at how clueless he could be sometimes.

'Why do you both always torture me like this?' Minho asked, running a hand over his face.

'Because you think you're too rough and tough, but you're just a cute little idiot.'

'Right. Good reason to torture someone.'

You shrug.

'So, what happens now?' You ask.

Minho looked at you, and his mind and heart were both very clear about one thing - he wasn't going to let you slip out of his hands again. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

'I'm gonna love you. We have wasted a lot of time, baby. I'm not gonna sit here and waste anymore.'

Your eyes shine with happy tears as he hugs you and kisses you.

'I love you, Lino.' You mumbled against his neck. 'Never letting you go.'

'I love you more, jagi' he said, placing little kisses on the top of your head. He carries you to his bedroom and helps you get changed into some of Hana's pyjamas. You couldn't help but smile as he climbed into bed and settled down beside you. He kissed you more until you were both too tired and fell asleep in each other's arms.

Hana: Why didn't you call me?!

Hana: wtf Y/N!

Hana: where the hell are you?!

Y/N: yah, calm down

Y/N: I'm ok, at Lino's now

Hana: what are you doing there this early in the morning?

Hana: Y/N L/N

Y/N: Hana please

Hana: Did you guys talk?? Did you guys...?

Hana: Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes

Y/N: HANA.

Hana: where is that pabo

Y/N: sleeping

Hana: together, I hope

Hana: ew ew ew

Y/N: shut up

Y/N: are you coming over?

Hana: Sure. Be decent please.

Hana: Don't be gross in front of me.

Y/N: We'll be gross. Don't come - your brother.

Y/N: go away

Hana: oh my god, ew

Hana: disgusting

Hana: 🤢🤮

Y/N: be here for breakfast

Hana: You're mine first. Don't forget.

Y/N: of course

Y/N: love you❤

Hana: love you more ❤

a/n : I haven't done this in a long time and I'm soo happy to be writing again! I have like 9000 things in my drafts rn 😭 Feedback is much appreciated❤

#lee know #lee know fluff #lee know x reader #lee know x you #lee know x y/n #lee know x female reader #lee minho #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #lee minho x y/n #lee minho fluff #lee minho imagines #skz #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you

468 notes · View notes

inkbybambi · 1 year ago

Text

best friend!simon riley picking you up from a bad date —

words: 2.2k rating: nothing explicit apart from a brief mention of sex, just some light angst and comfort. my blog is 18+ so minors please dni. warning: hurt/comfort, fluff, pet names, insecurity/doubt/worry, mentions of sex, simon is the softie we all know he is notes: originally written for @ghosts-cyphera ♡ we all need a bestfriend!simon in our lives who's so sweet and gentle with us.

One thing you love about Simon — besides everything — is how reliable he is. Strong, steadfast, there when you need him. Even when he’s not physically there — his work taking him away for weeks or even months at a time — you find yourself reading over the messages he’s sent, the little sticky notes he’s left, whatever memento you’ve kept of him tucked away in the drawer in your bedside table.

Not that you’ll tell him that.

You hate asking him for favors — asking anyone for favors, really, but him especially. Whenever you ask someone for help, it's always accompanied by a long-suffering sigh or a roll of the eyes or some very clear indication that they'd rather do anything else.

Except for Simon.

Which is why you're hesitant to ask him more than you absolutely need to. You don't want to push your luck too far, less he eventually tires of you as well.

Losing people hurts, always assuming it's you that caused the problem. You've come to accept this, even if the dark feelings of being too much or a burden claw at the edges of your mind.

But losing Simon? You don't think you'd ever get over that.

It's just after 9pm, the sky dark and clouds threatening, with thunder rumbling steadily in the sky. Your hand shakes as you fumble your phone from your pocket, trying to hold tears at bay as you scroll through your contacts.

Your call log is all Simon.

Some appointments here and there, but Simon everywhere else.

Fuck.

You hiccup, the tears spilling from your eyes as the sky finally opens up, joining you in your mourning.

You don't have any other choice, really, so you click his number before you can talk yourself out of it and walk home instead, bringing it up to your ear as it rings.

He answers before the third ring.

"I'm so sorry to bother you," you sniffle into the phone, before he has a chance to say anything. You take in a sharp breath, blood turning to ice. "Am i bothering you?" you sound so meek and small and tired. “No, dove, you’re not,” comes his calm, reassuring voice. You’re only half-convinced.

"I'm sorry," you begin again. Your heart falls to your stomach, convincing yourself that this is his final straw. You're overtaken by a wave of nausea, despite not having eaten anything since lunch. "I didn't know who else to call, and I lost my tram pass, and I don't have an umbrella, and — "

“Dove,” he says, his accent soothing to your ears — he's so endlessly patient and kind. You ache.

"I can just walk home, I-I'm sorry," you whimper out, unable to stop the tears blurring your vision, feeling pathetic and weak and so, so alone. “Darling,” he says, a little stern. Not angry, never angry. Trying to focus you. “What’s wrong?”

“U-um, my date stood me up,” you sniff, swallowing hard. "I waited an hour," you mumble, looking to your shoes. "Messaged him too, y'know. He just. Didn't show."

You think you hear Simon curse over the line and your heart lurches, feeling like you're about to be sick. “Where are you?”

There's a rustle of fabric, the clink of keys, the heel of his boot walking across his floor. You manage to tell him the name of the restaurant, voice cracking. “Twenty minutes,” he says, and you’re about to protest but he beats you to it. “Sit there and be good and patient and I’ll pick you up, yeah?”

"Okay," you whisper in agreement, before the line clicks dead and you allow yourself to cry, huddling under the awning as some protection from the rain, now coming down in thick, sharp waves.

Thirteen minutes later, the headlights of his truck shine through the dark, pulling up to the curb. You make a mad dash for the passenger door, still getting drenched in the process.

You can't even look at him, hands shaking as you buckle the belt, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

He says your name gently. You take in a shuddering breath and let it out just as shaky, looking over towards him. He's wearing his balaclava, but his eyes — even in the dark, you can make out his beautiful eyes. Assessing you, worrying.

"I'm sorry," you croak out. You can't help it. It's burned into your tongue, driven into your mind to make him understand you didn't want to bother him. He doesn't have to forgive you, but as long as he knows, that's enough.

"Love," he says, and there's... something in his voice, as he reaches over for your hand, holding it gently in his own. His eyes never leave yours. "'m never gonna be mad about you askin' for help." Your eyes flit away, but he squeezes your hand and you reluctantly look back. "You know me better than that," he says, as if he can read the treacherous thoughts swirling in your head, drowning you and making it hard to breathe.

You can only nod, not trusting your voice at the moment. He hums, bringing the back of your hand up to graze his covered lips over the back, pulling out to drive you back.

"This is your flat," you say, fifteen minutes later as he shuts the car off. You were too busy looking at the window, watching the rain drops race down the glass, to notice that he wasn't driving the familiar route to your place.

"Yes," he replies, as if it's obvious he'd bring you here. "You really think I'd let you stay home alone?"

His eyes are so fucking bright. It startles you, and you hate how your heart twists and thumps at how intently he's looking.

"I..." you start, chewing on your bottom lip for a moment. His eyes flicker to your lips, snapping away just as quick. "I was gonna eat ice cream and drink shitty, cheap wine," you say.

"As if I don't have either of those things here," he replies, opening the door and effectively ending the conversation. You scramble after him, eager to be inside in the warmth and burrow yourself into his couch.

"Go get changed," he says, voice clear as he removes the balaclava and bends to untie his shoes.

You hesitate for a second, until he looks up to you and there's that something lingering in his gaze — the same something that was in his voice.

"Go on now," he repeats, softer, and you ditch your shoes and your uncomfortably wet jacket by his.

His flat is as familiar as your own — you could walk through it blindfolded at night and you wouldn't knock into a single thing.

Well.

You might knock into a corner or two, but that's not a vision thing. It's a you're a bit clumsy thing. Simon finds it endlessly amusing, poking at the bruises that blossom on your skin while you bat his hand away.

His bedroom is familiar as well. Which is why you don't think twice before you're shimmying out of your clothes — undergarments as well — and rifling through his drawers, finding your favorite shirt of his and a pair of his boxers.

You take a moment to smell the collar, taking comfort in the scent that lingers. You’ve been dressed in his clothes many times before this but it feels different this time.

As you pad back out to the living room, Simon’s already on the couch. Your favorite blanket is draped across his lap, two bowls of ice cream and a bottle of cheap wine sitting open, glasses filled far more than you would’ve. You’ll indulge him, mostly because you have the sneaking suspicion that he’ll have you sleep here anyways.

His balaclava is off. The last dregs of tension drain from you as he looks over to you, face soft in the lowlight of the lamp, tv ready with a show you’ve watched a thousand times that he watches with you without complaint.

“Knew you’d choose that one,” he says with a bit of a smirk as you crawl on the couch, burrowing yourself into his side, his arm slinging across the back of the cushion.

“Am I that predictable?” you mumble, a small thank you as he hands you a bowl.

He doesn’t answer, but you feel the burn of his stare before he snorts, flicking the tv to start playing, the familiar theme relaxing you further.

The silence with him is comfortable, lingering in a hazy in-between of awake and sleep, empty bowls and mostly empty glasses sitting on the coffee table.

“Were you going to fuck him?” he asks, three episodes in, bottle empty.

You blink, not sure if you heard him properly as you pull back to look at him. You can’t read his eyes. Something hot twists in your gut.

“I-I don’t know, Simon,” you start, the weight of his stare heavy. “Maybe?”

He doesn’t say anything and you chew your lip for a moment, fingers curling to play with the blanket. “Depends how the date went, I suppose. Doesn’t matter much now,” you snort. His gaze hasn’t changed. “Why?”

His jaw clicks, taking a deep breath. “You deserve better ‘n that.”

A confused frown pulls at your mouth, unsure how to reply. “I know how to be safe,” you tell him, voice soft.

He seems to be weighing his words in his head, lowering the volume of the show. You feel sick.

Dark eyes rove over your face, taking in every minute detail. You bite at your nail, just for something to do.

“Don’t think there’s a bloke in the world that’s worthy of ya.”

Your frown deepens, breaking your eyes from his, twisting your fingers in your lap. Relationships aren’t easy. Being that vulnerable with someone isn’t easy.

You never want someone to pay for you, and even the smallest gestures like opening the car door or pulling out your chair feel like it’s too much. You don’t deserve that kind of attention. After a while, they’ll get tired. You’ll become a burden to them like everything else in your life.

It’s easier to be by yourself. The only person you have to worry about bothering is you.

“Love.” He tilts his head, eyes trying to catch yours. How hasn’t he gotten tired of you yet?

A hand under your chin forces your gaze up, and you try to shrink yourself against the back of the couch. Your voice catches in your throat, words stuck there.

“What’s goin’ on in tha’ pretty head f’yours?”

You swallow thickly, finding it damn near impossible to keep your eyes on his.

“‘s not like it matters,” you start. his brows furrow, but he stays silent. “No one would want me anyways.”

“‘n why would you say that?”

Frustration burns the back of your throat. Isn’t it obvious? You can barely call him in a dire situation without thinking the worst of yourself. How can he think of you as anything but a nuisance? How could he think anyone else would put up with it?

“You wouldn’t understand,” you say, defeated. You crumble back into the couch.

“Make me understand.”

Heat flashes at the nape of your neck. He takes your hands in his, cradling them in his warmth. Your name sounds so soft in his voice.

“How aren’t you tired of me?” comes your whispered question, nose tingling and eyes threatening to water. You look at him. Hesitant. Scared.

The silence is loud. His own frown deepens. It takes a few painful minutes, but you see the moment something clicks in place.

“You know I’d do anything for you, yeah?”

Your lip quivers, sniffling as you beg yourself not to cry.

“Because you do the same for me,” he continues. You doubt it, mind going blank of every time he’s come to you for something.

His touch moves to your elbow, tugging you forward gently until he can arrange you in his lap. He slips his hands beneath the hem of his shirt, thumbs rubbing on your hips just above the waistband of his boxers.

You slowly brace your hands on his shoulders. Firm and broad and safe.

“You apologize so much. You worry so much.” the tears slip down your cheeks, throat aching, but now you can’t look away from him. One hand moves to cup the nape of your neck, thumb rubbing gently at the skin behind your ear.

“You’re allowed to ask for help.”

You shake your head, a no caught in your throat, tears blurring your vision.

“Oh, love.” He cradles you into the curve of his neck, arm wrapping around your waist and keeping a gentle hold at the base of your skull. “You have me wrapped around your finger ‘n you don’t even know it.”

He lets you cry into his neck, dampening the collar of his shirt. His cologne is soothing and you eventually slump against him. You’re so tired.

His lips graze your temple, his soft touch lulling you to sleep. You’ll talk about it tomorrow, but for now you want to stay wrapped up in his arms, held by someone who genuinely loves you.

#ink by bambi #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley/reader #simon riley/you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley hurt/comfort #simon riley fluff #ghost fluff #ghost imagine #modern warfare imagine

1K notes · View notes

fawnindawn · 6 months ago

Text

for a moment, can i hold you? (luke castellan x fem! apollo reader)

series masterlist - everything in between (every part can be read as a stand-alone!)

summary: After your return from a failed quest, Luke is intense with his attention and anything but his usual self as he looks after you and your healing injuries, and you come to realise your absence has changed him drastically. When he asks you to make a promise, you don’t realise just how much he is asking for.

content: luke is overprotective and clingy, caretaker luke, soft luke, pining, paranoid luke, kronos tries to manipulate luke, hint of manipulative! luke, fluff, kissing

a/n: this chapter was redone so many times but at long last. the delicate sprinkle of kronos slowly pulling the strings in luke's mind because he can't bare to lose the only person he can't live without was an enjoyable process to write.

pairing: luke castellan x fem! apollo reader

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

His hands traced over the outline of the scars on your back, unbeknownst to you as you laid asleep beside him, wrapped in his blanket from your hips downward. Your face was serene, and he felt his heartbeat calm down watching you breath in and out, painless and at peace.

Kronos was growing more invasive every night, something Luke had not expected now that you had returned to camp alive. If anything, your presence had heightened this need in him to protect you and not let you out of his sight, his mind still taunting him endlessly with dark images of your limp body in his arms, your pulse barely beating under his fingers.

Regardless of how much you’ve tried to convince him it wasn't his fault that he wasn't there to stop these scars from happening, that he wasn't there to save you and you had to make the journey back to camp all on your own, he didn't believe it. That he couldn't have done more to protect you.

The titan that crept in his nightmares fed on his fears eagerly, and he would fall asleep to dreams so tangible, vivid recreations of your lifeless face, always being just out of reach of saving you before something gets to you first. He would wake covered in cold sweat and shattered pieces of his heart as his hands immediately goes to find you, heaving a shaky breath at the sight of you still asleep beside him. He pulled you close to his chest, crying silent tears as he repeated to himself that you were safe. Alive and warm. Beating life in your pulse as his fingers wrap around your wrist.

'I can help you save the girl.' The titan had crooned before, watching over Luke in his dreams as he cradled your lifeless body with indescribable mourning, choking on his sobs as he muttered your name, broken and haunted. 'There will be a new world that shall dawn on us, and no half-blood shall face the consequences of their mortality, and you will never have to see her suffer again.'

Luke watched you now, admiring your features as his hands wrapped around your waist, slowly pulling you closer in an effort to not wake you. Pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, he felt his heart thump at the soft crinkle of your nose at his touch but your eyes remained closed, unaware of the adoration that was bestowed on you.

"I'm going to keep you safe." He promised softly, because failing once had already costed him nearly everything and he wasn't going to let anything happen to you again. Even if it meant betraying everything he knew, the belief that he could create a world, one you would live in without having to worry about death constantly at your doorstep was worth everything he was going to sacrifice.

Minutes go by in silence, the most quiet and peaceful it had been for him in weeks. If it wasn't the chaos that came with trying to control a cabin filled to the brim with his siblings or those who were unclaimed, the noise would come from within in his own mind, filled with dark murmurs that stirred his paranoia into a mixture of anger and bitter hate. Now, it was none of that. Only the sound of your breathing, which he had been focusing on as of late whenever he was trying to sleep.

His eyes caught you stir, turning to rest your head deeper into the pillow, and his heart rate quickened watching you blink open your eyes, struggling in your effort not to fall back asleep again. You yawned, opening your eyes to meet his, and he caught the momentary confusion that one always faced when just waking up before your eyes crinkled at the corners as you smiled at him in recognition.

"Hi there." You muttered, and he swore he never loved you more, just watching you exist in the small corner of his cabin he had snuck you into, only because he couldn't bare to sleep without you after you returned half-dead.

If any of his siblings suspected the soft footsteps way past curfew, avoiding stepping on others as the two shuffled their way to his mattress in the dim moonlight, none commented on it in the day where there would be the mysterious tousled sheets and an empty dip beside Luke, even if everyone knows he never uses a blanket.

Luke found it impossible to sleep without you. If he couldn't feel your heartbeat near his, his mind would overthink and before he knew it, a panic attack would be on the edge of his mental state, only soothed once he had you in his sights again, alive and breathing.

"Go back to sleep, sunshine." He whispered, eyes on you as you shuffled around so you could be closer to him, resting on his shoulder and allowing him to inhale the vanilla body shampoo you liked to use. He automatically accustomed to your touch, shifting his shoulder so you could rest more comfortably, his chin resting on top of your head.

"No, I want to stay awake with you." You mumbled, pressed to his side and enjoying his cool skin as compared to the warmth of yours. "Why are you still up?"

He hesitated, unsure of whether to reveal to you about his recent dreams, or of his deal with Kronos. He didn't want to stress you on his dilemmas when you were still on the brink of recovery, even if his heart demanded him to tell the truth. Despite being the son of a god who was known for thievery, equipping his children with the ability to slip lies as easy as breathing, he had never hidden anything from you. Lies and deceit now tasted bitter in his mouth from the frequent use, and he wanted to confide in you and let his guard down for once.

"I've been having nightmares." He spoke, a half-truth he had settled for.

You looked up at him then, noses only a few inches apart, concern visible through your half-lidded gaze. "Again? What was it about?"

You. He wanted to say. Always you. He tried to push the thought away and come up with some flimsy excuse, because he couldn't tell you that. Not without making you feel guilt over something you had no control over. If anything, your father was to blame. Had he not sent you on a useless quest that put you in high risks of being exposed to creatures out to kill half-bloods, you wouldn't have been put in such a life-threatening situation. He had almost lost you.

Some days, that simple thought was enough to make him go mad.

He tried to quiet down the anger that threatened to arise, focusing on you instead as his hand went to push a stray strand of hair behind your ear, eyes flicking over your features. "Don't worry, sunshine. It's nothing I can't get over by the morning."

Lies, a nasty habit of his. He knew you could sense it too with the way you frowned at his response. Your fierce eyes met his own hesitant gaze, and it was like you could see right through him. Then again, you always could.

"It was about me, wasn't it?" You asked, hitting right on the spot of his worries.

He remained silent, and upon realising you were waiting for his confirmation, he sighed. "Sometimes I wish you wouldn't know me so well."

"Then I wouldn't be your other half, would I?" You responded with a solemn smile. "What happened?"

His mind flashed back to the gory images of his self-made torture in subconscious. "I never get to save you." He started explaining. "I'd always be too late, or I wouldn't be able to find you but I would hear your voice screaming for me. I'd go crazy trying to get to you but every time I finally reach you, it's too-"

He cut himself off, feeling the corner of his eyes burning as he tried to swallow past the uncomfortable feeling in his throat. He blinked back his tears, and he tried to avoid your gaze. "I'm afraid it'll come true." He muttered. "That something will happen to you again and despite everything I try to do, it won't be enough."

"Luke." You tried, but he was already in another world, distant eyes so tortured and guilty you feared he was drowning in his own self-doubt. You pushed yourself up, out of his hold and grabbed ahold of his face, forcing him to face you instead. "I'm not going anywhere."

He stilled at that, but he didn't seem to quite believe it.

"I promised, remember?" You reminded him, your fingers tracing the slight raise of his scar near his cheekbone, trying to get him to come back to you. "I'll be here till we're both nothing but bones and dust, and even then, I'll follow you anywhere you go. To the next life and the next."

"How are you so sure of that?" He asked, weak against your optimism, his own heart struggling to find the belief you seemed to have that everything would turn out alright.

"You think for one second I'd leave you alone in peace?" You scoffed. "You keep thinking I'll leave when you should be worried about the opposite. I'm not dying unless you're doing it with me, co-dependency and all."

He snorted at that, but the darkness in his eyes had not fully risen, his mind still stuck on a certain promise you'd accidentally uttered a few seconds ago, and he wouldn't rest till he figured out just how far you were willing to go in your promises.

He swallowed, trying to find his words as yours repeated in his mind. His hands went to rest on your hips, holding onto you and your gaze so intensely, like he believed you would really disappear if he took his eyes off of you. "You promise you'll follow me anywhere?"

"Yes." You answered with no hesitation and he let out a sigh, akin to relief over something that seemed to have been holding a dark cloud over him the past few weeks since your return.

"You promise." He stated more than asked, begging for a promise you didn't quite understand, not knowing your words had already been etched into a dark corner of his mind that you had no hope of pulling him out from.

Your brows furrowed as you wondered why he was so insistent, but if it meant soothing his worries, you'd do anything. "I promise." You muttered, sealing your fates together till the end of time.

His eyes wandered over your face in lovesick adoration, unsure of how he was so lucky to have met you. "I love you." He declared, and before you could say it back, he leaned in to kiss you, hands slipping under your shirt to rest his cold hands on your hot skin, which always leaned on the warmer side due to your father's influence, and you felt electric shocks at the sudden contrast as he pulled you back into bed, laying you on top of him as he kissed you in fervor.

"I love you." He repeated, tracing his lips down the outline of your jaw, making you shiver in the intensity in which he made his confession.

"I love you too." You finally made out, but it was less clearer than his as you struggled to focus against the heated feeling of his mouth on your neck and his hands on the outstretch of your back, still hidden under the fabric of your shirt.

He chuckled at that, the sound making your cheeks flush at how attractive he could be when he was this intense. "Trust me, sunshine. You don't know how crazy you've made me."

Your mind spun when he went back to trace his lips over your skin before slowly making his way back up to your lips, kissing you slowly and passionately, taking his time in making you squirm for breath. You should've noticed something was unusual in the way he acted, the red flags raised over his choice of wording and in his growing intensity the moment you promised you'd follow him anywhere.

It was Luke, you could trust him with anything. With your life. With your heart. You pushed back those thoughts, and you let yourself fall lost to the feeling of his lips on yours and his curls gripped through the gaps of your fingers.

At some point, you needed air more than the feeling of his lips on yours and you broke the kiss off to breathe, pushing at his chest when he tried to lean in for another kiss with that wicked grin of his.

"That's enough for tonight, pretty boy." You panted, and despite his disappointed pout, he relented and pulled you back into his chest, falling back into the mattress and grabbed for the blanket to lay it over your body so you wouldn't feel cold.

"Goodnight then, sunshine." He whispered affectionately, a particular softness in his tone that he always reserved for you with that adoring nickname he had initially started using to annoy you. Yet, somewhere along the blurry lines of getting to know one another, the mocking stereotype turned into something else entirely. Something more personal, the warmth of familiarity between the two of you.

You settled on his chest, tracing outlines of shapes on his shirt as your mind wandered towards a future of you and Luke, together. You had never really thought too far across the borders of camp, where monsters lingered in wait to devour half-bloods like the two of you. Yet, his words spun a record in you, playing imaginary situations of the two of you in a world where gods and monsters were the least of your worries and you had a normal life instead, with him.

"Wait." You spoke, causing him to stir, looking down at you.

"Yeah?" He murmured to signal he was still awake, waiting for you, always.

"Speaking of dreams.." You continued, hesitating to cross a border neither of you had really discussed on yet. Normal human life had always been taboo, only because the two of you understood the struggles you would have to go through to try and achieve even half the sense of normalcy normal people had. Yet, you couldn't help the curiousity over what Luke would want, if he wasn't a god's son. "If we ever get out of here one day, and hypothetically, we were to live a normal life.. outside of camp. What would yours be?"

He remained silent, and you wondered if you had stepped too far into a pitiful hope many half-bloods had given up on ages ago. Especially for Luke, who was one of the oldest surviving half-bloods in camp, with you not following too far behind.

"It's fine if you don't want to talk about it." You stepped back from the topic, but he shook his head.

"I've never really given it too much thought." He muttered, trying to imagine a life without a sword in his hands, no scar taking up half his face only to come up with a blank. It was all blank. His heart churned with frustration as he realised all the years of running and surviving made his personal advancements, like education and a normal teen life be placed on the backburner. He had no ambitions that could be considered normal for his age, no graduating college or getting a job.

His eyes moved from the wooden boards of the walls back to you, who waited patiently for his response. His thoughts of his own future were a dead-end but when he looked at you.. he could picture something. A dream further ahead in time outside of the confinements of camp. Being at your side while you explored new cities you've never been before, made the future seemed more doable.

He vaguely remembered you mentioning how you've never been to the Big Apple, having grown up in a state too far to see it. He could take you there, experience your awed joy and take it in for himself to keep. If a dream was meant to be something to keep him going, there was no way you wouldn't be in the equation.

Luke rested his palm on the nape of your neck, and placed a kiss on the top of your head. "Anywhere with you, honestly. I'm sure I could come up with a million things to do if we make it that far. And as long as I get to watch you achieve your dreams..."

"That's awfully cheesy of you." You teased, hoping he couldn't feel your heart racing through your ribcage.

"It's not cheesy. I'm being serious." He retorted, cheeks flushing slightly at your teasing.

"You know.. if I didn't meet you in camp, I could picture crossing paths with you in a café or something." You admitted.

"Oh really?"

"Mhm. You would be walking in with some of your friends after playing basketball, and you'd catch my eye." You continued. "I'd probably do something reckless, like ask for your number right off the bat because I would be scared of losing the chance of getting to know you."

"I'd give it to you in a heartbeat." Luke answered, a giddy smile slipping through over the thought of you approaching him so boldly. A counterfeit situation, a daydream only those who were foolish enough would partake in, but he was willing to dream if you wanted to.

"Then, we'd go on our first date around the city, and you'd show me your spots while I'd show you mine. We'd probably spend hours outside because neither of us wanted to leave."

“And then?” He asked, unable to hide the desperation in his tone.

“Then we’ll take it on together.” You muttered with a smile. “Life.”

Luke waited for you to continue, but you yawned halfway through and he huffed in amusement. "Go to sleep, sunshine. Your dreams won't run away anytime soon, I'll make sure of it.”

“Our dreams.” You corrected him.

“Ours.” He repeated.

You nodded, satisfied and muttered a goodnight to him before closing your eyes, following the beat of the heart that belonged to a boy who owned yours, listening to the constant rhythm of life before slowly succumbing to sleep.

Luke traced over the outline of your spine, and his mind ticked over the possibilities of the future. He wasn't wrong, he was going to make sure your dreams would come true. Whatever you wanted, he would help you achieve it.

He could see it, the two of you going on dates like a pair of lovesick teenagers, then growing into adults and living past the well-known lifespan of a half-blood. To grow old, and to watch wrinkles catch in the crinkles of your eyes over a life well lived. He was going to make all that happen, but there was something he needed to do first.. and he could only hope you would forgive him for it.

You could never fathom how this night would change everything, kickstart the course of the next few years that would eventually bring you back to the promises you've made and the haunting of his own devotion.. to you.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

taglist: @stars4birdie @elysiandumbash @kehlanislefttoe @mqg125 @madzlovez @0revna0 @auroraofthesun1 @idli-dosa @buubsii @kaylasficrecs @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @itsdragonius @moonlightfoxs-cantina @inkpot-winters @vanessa-rafesgirl

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x apollo!reader #luke castellan x you #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #pjo #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagine #pjo tv show #pjo series

859 notes · View notes

brbsoulnomming · 1 year ago

Text

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 1

By the time Eddie is twelve, going to live with his uncle in a trailer in Hawkins, he only has a dozen or so words from his soulmate.

It used to make him guilty, that his soulmate was the kind of person who rarely lied, getting stuck with Eddie who spit lies out like they were the shells of sunflower seeds. Then it made him angry, that he only had a handful of shit like he did it! and I already washed my hands. A small spattering of normal kid shit, while Eddie had to say things like no, officer, I don't know where my father is and Mom's just not feeling well today, Mrs. Anderson.

Then, a year or so before his dad got caught for good, he got It's nothing, I just tripped and Yeah, Mom, I understand, I know he won't do it again and he thought - maybe his soulmate is the kind of kid who knows sometimes it's just better not to say anything.

Eddie can understand that.

Living with Uncle Wayne is - hard. It's hard because it isn't hard, not the way it should be. It makes Eddie say more things that he knows his soulmate will see on his skin, things like I never wanted to be here anyway, and I want to be alone, just leave me alone.

His uncle is endlessly patient, and it grates on his nerves because he wants it. He wants it so bad to be real, but he just - keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something to be too much.

For Eddie to be too much for him.

It comes to a head one night when Eddie's mad at him over something or other, asks why he's doing all this.

"You're my kid, and that means I'm not going anywhere," his uncle says, all gruff and raw honesty, and Eddie can't bear it.

"You don't think your soulmate's going to get tired of all these lies that keep showing up?" he snaps, even though he regrets it the moment it's out of his mouth.

He regrets it even more when there's a heavy, aching silence, and he finally looks up at his uncle, eyes wide and terrified as he thinks this is it, he's finally gone too far -

"It's not a lie," Uncle Wayne says finally, holding Eddie's gaze. "You hear me? It's not a lie. I'm not going anywhere."

Eddie nods, and his uncle relaxes a little, then grimaces, like he isn't sure he wants to say anything else.

"I don't have anyone for lies to show up on, anyway."

He says it like it doesn't matter, but Eddie bursts into tears anyway.

Not everyone has a soulmate. The majority of people do, but it's not uncommon for people to never have words written on their skin. In school, they teach that it doesn't mean you can't be happy, it doesn't mean you can't find love. They teach about soulmate bonds that didn't work out - there's whole plays and novels and movies written about that kind of tragedy and misery, after all.

But sometimes there's still an undercurrent of pity, of bitterness. Outside of school - or inside it, when it isn't the teachers talking - some people say there's something wrong with people who don't have soulmates, some people say that they were meant for bigger and greater things.

Some people say that soulmates are supposed to be between a man and a woman, and every time someone who's queer gets a soulmate, it's because they stole them from someone else.

And Eddie doesn't believe that, not really, but he can't help but wonder if maybe his uncle does, and he can't stop crying.

Now his uncle is the one who looks terrified.

"Son, come here, it's all right, it really is." Uncle Wayne gathers him up in his arms, holds him close the way no one's ever done for him before, and just lets him cry and cry and cry.

Later, Eddie thinks about just letting it go, but - he has to know, he just does.

"Do you think someone stole your soulmate from you?" he asks as he's washing dishes, not looking at his uncle and hoping it doesn't sound anything like do you think someone like me stole your soulmate from you?

Uncle Wayne scowls. "That's a load of horseshit, is what I think. No one can control whether they have one soulmate or two or none, and it doesn't make someone greedy or a thief."

Eddie opens his mouth, then closes it again. He's known about people with two soulmates before, of course, the same way he knows about people with none - and he's heard the comments about them being greedy same as he's heard comments about them being lucky, or a dozen other things people've theorized to explain it. It's just that it doesn't really tell him what he'd wanted to know, and he can't figure out how to ask without being more specific.

Uncle Wanye is looking at him real close, though, and there's something like a quiet acceptance that flashes over his features.

"No one can control who their soulmate is," he says softly. "Whoever yours is - they were meant for you in a way they aren't meant for anyone else. Love like that can't be stolen, kid, it can only be given."

He thinks about that for a long moment, then nods. "Okay."

"Good," his uncle says gruffly. "Now finish those up and get off to bed."

------

First part of a Steddie and platonic Stobin soulmates AU I'm working on, where any lie you tell gets written on your soulmate! No idea how long this is going to be - it was supposed to be a oneshot but it just keeps growing, so I wanted to share at least the first bit of it.

Now with Part 2

#steddie #Steddie fic #eddie munson #Wayne Munson #Steve harrington #Soulmate au

1K notes · View notes

luvzshy · 1 month ago

Note

Could you do something where Billie is obsessed with reader and thinks she’s perfect 🥹 just loads of flufff

a/n: This made me think of my ex, I'm crying I miss her, enjoy baby 🙁💕

endlessly yours

Billie couldn’t take her eyes off you. It didn’t matter what you were doing—whether you were curled up on the couch with a book, your eyes tracing each line with concentration, or wandering around the kitchen, humming softly while you made tea. To her, everything you did was perfect.

You caught her staring again, her oceanic blue-green eyes tracking your every move with a soft smile tugging at her lips. “What?” you asked, pretending to be annoyed but already knowing the answer.

Billie grinned, her cheeks flushing the slightest bit. “Nothing. Just… you’re perfect. That’s all.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart swelled. “I’m not perfect, Billie. I literally just spilled tea everywhere like, two minutes ago.”

Billie shook her head, standing up from the couch and making her way over to you. She wrapped her arms around your waist from behind, pulling you into her chest. “Nope. You’re perfect,” she whispered against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “Even your little messes. Everything about you.”

You melted into her embrace, leaning back into her warmth as she planted soft kisses along your neck. “You’re too much,” you murmured, but couldn’t help smiling.

Billie chuckled, resting her chin on your shoulder. “Maybe, but I can’t help it. You’ve got me obsessed, babe. It’s like… I still can’t believe you’re real sometimes.”

You turned around in her arms, looking up into her eyes with a playful smirk. “Oh yeah? And what makes me so unbelievable?”

She gave you a soft, genuine smile, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Everything,” she whispered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “The way you look at me like I’m the only person in the room. How you get excited about the smallest things. The way you laugh… how kind you are… how you love me.” She kissed your forehead gently, her lips lingering there for a moment. “I just… I love everything about you.”

Your chest tightened at her words, her tenderness never failing to make you feel cherished. “I love you too, Billie.”

She smiled, pulling you even closer, her nose brushing against yours. “Good,” she said, her voice soft and playful, “because I don’t think I could go a day without telling you how perfect you are.”

You laughed, burying your face in her shoulder, trying to hide your blush. But Billie, being the way she was, loved every bit of it. She tilted your chin up, capturing your lips in a soft kiss that made the whole world fall away.

In that moment, it was just the two of you—wrapped up in each other, hearts beating in sync, with Billie quietly obsessing over every little thing that made you who you were.

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

#billie eilish blurb #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish fic #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x you #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish imagine

208 notes · View notes

kaiser-author-san-iii · 2 months ago

Text

What if creator reader is separated from their nephew and nugget is crying, sobbing - just wanting to be with [Y/n] when all of a sudden they see some dilf/grandpa looking dude (Pierro) and then it all clicks to him and decides to adopt them for now all while helping Nugget find their guardian/relative who happens to be the all ruling deity that created the world.

---

He felt it's been hours as his feet attempted to carry him to safety where that was. He had never been here as his parents not his favorite guardian ever took him to a place like this. It all seemed too strange and also scary as he heard sounds of things that he has never heard of before.

He would have been brave if they were here since when they were, everything seemed to be afraid of them. That's why he loved them so much - they were his protector.

But they weren't here.

What if the monster that's out there gets him? He's small. He can't outrun many things.

"Where are you? Mami... Papa...! Tita! I'm scared!" The voice of the child cared through the winds but no one heard.

Or at least that is what the child thought as it clutched onto the one thing that he brought with him - a stuffed animal plushie that was gifted to him by his guardian when he was five. It was some sort of raccoon animal but didn't look like a raccoon with it's cute tail and fluffed up red and white fur.

Beneath the very ground, the land started to sing and cry as they had no way to comfort the boy personally, except maybe to send a sort of message to anyone that was in the area of the forest nearest to him. There were a few but they were too far away and of course, the animals and fungi would only frighten the child.

There was one.

One that had been shunned, one that has been in hiding in far away lands but had come to the great Dendro forests once again in hopes of new methods. He had heard the cries of the child and decided to follow the sounds, a few of his subordinates following the foreboding man of a nation now destroyed by time and gods.

His lone icy colored eye watched the path ahead to a clearing where the cries were coming from. He could have easily ignored it as lost children were quite common in the Sumeru forests as told to him by Dottore and from what he remembered. But this cry, there was nothing to explain other his heart shattered from hearing the pain, to hear an innocent be so distressed.

As if is body was moving on his own.

"Titi! W-where are you?!" The young child huddled into what looked like a small burrow possibly made by a small fox or even the whopperflowers that decided to stay close but were eliminated quickly by his subordinates. Guarding the entrance of the burrow where he easily hid were two dendro slimes though one was big. The Child seemed to be scared but the slimes seemed to make flowers appear on top of its head as a way to comfort the crying child.

A crying child was worrisome enough.

But if the crying child had sparkling silver streaming down his cheeks?

'Teyvat had started with a simple speck floating endlessly. A great force soon took possession of it. Day and night, it worked endlessly until the speck grew and grew. The great earth overgrew with the power of fire spewing, forming mountains and land together, storms brewed with the help of a simple blow from the Force themselves, creating the winds, the storms - lightning, and rain were created from the frustrations and determination of Them. Over time, thanks to the rain, the oceans, lakes, and rivers, the land had become to freeze, and in others, forests had become bountiful. From the bountiful lands of green, soon great beasts of each domain rose from a slumber they had no recollection of. Awaiting them in front of them was a being of pure golden and silver light, a wave of their hand, and the great beasts, "dragons" as they were bestowed by the light, bowed before the Light. Before them stood the Divine Creator. The ruler of Teyvat. They had breathed life into their world and what else could they do other than what they asked, which was to live well and prosper. It's unknown what happened as it all went so quick. Many events occurred at the same time but what everyone remembered was the favoritism the Creator showed to the nation of Khaenri'ah.

Oh, how the creator loved Khaenri'ah. How they were so willing to do more, happy to learn more and had treated Them like one of them.

They were a nation closest to the Creator and the first to know that the Creator had a family and one of them was with child and their Creator loved the said child. The child was said to be who will inherit Teyvat.

The Heir.

The Little Prince.

"One day, I shall bring him here to show him all that I love and hope he will love as well. One day, I want him to walk and talk among you all so he appreciates you all. He will be dearly loved and he shall be friend to all - my future benevolent prince."

He was one of the lucky few who have read the scripts of when the creator was still among them. How they adored the idea of Gods and humans living in harmony and the future friends he might have.

Of course, They always appreciated free will. Something that the Anemo Archon was inspired by. They never really placed harsh judgement. They always treated everyone fairly.

But seeing the child in person like this must be a dream. Did this mean that the benevolent Creator has returned? If so, where are They? And why is the Heir crying?

Pierro carefully approached the child and though the slimes should have been dispatched and before he could give the order, the slimes stopped as if they knew the Harbinger would help. The child still crying and sparkling silver streamed down his cheeks and hiccuping.

Everyone surrounding the area took pity. They had to ensure the Heirs happiness.

"Little one, where is your Guardian?" He asked gently and was happy to see that he stopped, wiping his tears for a moment before replying. The child was unsure to say anything but his instincts were telling him that the man was a good man.

"I... I don't know. We were in [Guardians name] ride home when.. when there was a big crash...! I was so scared I c-closed my eyes! I open them and they were gone..! I don't know where I am! I miss Tita! I want my Tita! I wanna go home! I must ask mama and papa to punish the fool who hurt Titia's ride! Ah! Tita! I hope they're not hurt!"

Anger soon filled their bodies.

Someone brought harm to the Heir and the Creator?!

Divine retribution is indeed in the makings for whom dared to bring harm to their Creator and the Heir.

But first...

"What is your name, Little Prince?"

The child looked up, wiping more of the tears from his face and tried to put on a brave face. He has to be strong until he finds his Guardian again!

"I'm [Nephew's Name]! But... Tita calls me Nugget! Or Little Prince like you did, Mister."

Nugget was happy that the man smiled and even patted his head. Though he looked "stern" and "emotionless" like those people his Tita mentioned, the man was very kind. And he was the one he stuck to when he decided to go with them. And Mister Pierro promised to help him find his Tita. If they're in danger, then he'll be able to come and rescue them like the hero he is!

"Mister Pierro, do you have friends?"

"Friends? Something like that." Pierro will indulge in the Little Prince. Who cannot?

"Then we have an army! We have lots of people to look for Tita and it'll be easy! Oh, you'll like them mister. They're really nice and though clumsy, are the best!"

He couldn't wait to see the Creator in person. To see the benevolent being that his predecessors practically worshiped. The man who formed the Fatui will assure that he will leave no rock unturned till their Grace is safe in the lands of Snezhnaya

---

That's all I got. Thanks folks :3

#genshin sagau #drabble #just a thought #genshin impact #genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin #genshin pierro #genshin impact fatui

197 notes · View notes