#Ugh my heart can only ache so long
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journish · 1 year ago
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I just realized something, his eyes are white in this scene in the trailer. It may be an animation thing, and I guess I was assuming that this is a flashback because of his hair, but Simon's eyes are only ever white post-magic, so maybe this is something else.
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pseudowho · 4 months ago
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"Why the fuck...does this vacuum cleaner smell like cheese?"
Kento was yet to arrive home, and you saw this as only a blessing for him. Staring down the barrel of the hoover, the house finally hushed from the sounds of rowdy children, you wore your finest holey tank top, and pyjama shorts which covered asscheek, pussy and belly (but only ever two at a time, at any given time).
Your antiperspirant didn't have the same stamina as you. You swore as you trod barefoot on Lego, staggering and cussing like a mad old witch.
Bra-less, and without the time to scout the laundry pile for underwear, you hoovered crumbs and war-detritus like a skrunkly raccoon; hungry, cross, and in need of a shower. Your mind was lost, running between the alleyways of your chore-list, when the door clicked open, and closed.
You vacuumed, and vacuumed, not even looking up as you heard the rhythmic tack, tack, tack of his brown Oxfords approaching.
"There she is."
As if you were the Venus de Milo.
You grunted, lifting the rug and picking up an abandoned, squashed peach with an ugh! and cursed your sleeping offspring. You stood up with a huff, blowing sweaty hairs off your face, your breasts swinging independently of you.
"How's my darling wife?"
Pristine as ever, crisp and ironed and with the faintest tang of sweat and cologne, you wondered if Kento would ever arrive home looking like he'd been intimately acquainted with a trash can. The day had not yet come. Whiskey-deep eyes drank you in, parched.
Your heart ached with how handsome he looked, and how pathetically mismatched you were against him.
"Kento. You're home."
"Mmmm."
Either in confirmation, or having seen something delicious; you weren't sure. You suspected the latter. You scoffed as his hands reached out to slip round your raggedy waist, and you scoffed, and he shushed you, and you berated him, and he mumbled sweet nothings into your neck until you were finally folded into him, his missing ingredient.
And how he looked at you, as if you'd hung the stars and orchestrated the seasons.
You breathed him in, lax against the brick-wall solidity of him. You could have cried.
You still had sloppy peach remnants in your hand as Kento kissed you, soft and mellow and longing. You huffed against his lips.
"Kento, I am a fucking mess--"
"You're lovely--"
"--I absolutely am not--"
"--ravishing--"
"--you're ridiculous--"
"--gorgeous--"
"You're an idiot."
"I've missed you."
"God, I've missed you too. So much. You don't even know."
"I'm sure I do."
You sighed, nuzzling your face into the hard planes of Kento's collarbones, growling away a day of frustration. His chuckles rumbled up, tickling your nose. You rested your cheek against Kento's chest, your weariness bone-deep, having had no agency over your body or your time since dawn.
You surveyed the carnage together in silence; toys strewn as if the bodies of soldiers, abandoned laundry with stains of suspect aetiology, congealed meals, lovingly prepared and never eaten. You felt the weight of the day threaten to overwhelm you, feeling the panic and anxiety climbing, tidal waves on your waterline--
"Sit down. I'll make you a cup of tea."
The floodgates almost opened. "I can't do that-- you've had a long day-- so much to do--"
"And, I'll do it."
"No you won't, I--"
"Sit down. And I'll make you a cup of tea."
A single, slow kiss to your sweaty forehead. You sniffled, no strength left for another battle. You offered paltry smiling complaints as Kento nuzzled your hair, gripping you closer, growling into your neck as you squeaked and laughed.
You felt the familiar heavy press and twitch of his cock against you, and he groaned as you squirmed in his grasp, giggling. You caught his eye, as he twinkled down at you, pressing one slow kiss to your lips, possessive and full of promise.
"...I'm not apologising for anything. You look incredible."
"Ridiculous man, Nanami Kento."
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cake-writes · 5 months ago
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Pairing: Kakashi x Female!Reader
Warnings: smut, sex pollen, consensual somnophilia, substances, oral sex + rimming (female receiving), vaginal fingering, anal fingering + anal sex (female receiving), rough sex, playful sex, unprotected sex, edging, spanking, creampie, soft!dom!kakashi, this fic had no right being so fucking filthy, 'honey' used one (1) time as a pet name, safe word mention, so! much! banter!!!
Word Count: 5.4k
Summary: When you and Kakashi both forget to bring along something important on a mission, the two of you have to fight the effects of an aphrodisiac without.
You and Kakashi sit side-by-side on the sofa, staring down at the single white pill atop the coffee table of your inn room. His thigh presses against yours, allowing you to feel the heat radiating off of him—which is certainly, well, something, because your own body also feels way too hot. Stupidly hot.
“How could you forget to pack more detox pills?” Kakashi asks, looking over at you in mild disbelief. His cheeks appear rosy where they peek out above his mask, but you know it’s not so much from embarrassment as it is from the poison you’d both been hit by some hours ago.  
You shoot him a half-hearted glare. “How could you forget to pack condoms?”
Your first aid kit really should have had more pills in it than just the one, but you can’t remember the last time you did an inventory. And Kakashi, by regulation, should have had condoms in his bag in the event of a situation like this. Maybe he’d forgotten to double check his reserves, same as you. Whoops. 
The two of you would have been dosed just before dinner. That’s the only time an enemy trap had sprung, but there hadn’t been much of an effect until the middle of the night, long after the shops had closed and you’d settled in for sleep. At the time, you'd both assumed that it was just a bit of dust from the trap's explosion. Whoops, again.
With a weary sigh, your mission partner leans back against the couch, loosely crossing his arms over his chest in a deceivingly relaxed manner. “You take it,” Kakashi says, his uncovered eye drifting down your body before it flicks back up to yours. “You seem to have been hit harder than I was. I should be able to manage on my own.”
You swallow thickly at the mental imagery his words bring on. He’ll have to rub one out. More than one, most likely. “We should cut it in half. You’re still—”
“No. You’re smaller than I am, and you’re dealing with a stronger dose.”
He’s right. You can feel the sweat beading on your forehead, feel the warmth of a flush slowly creeping up your neck and onto your face, feel your skin burning for attention. Kakashi really is quite attractive—you’ve always thought so—and with the aphrodisiac coursing through your veins, your attraction to him has been cranked up to eleven. 
Fuck, your pussy aches, and only he can fill it the way that you need.
“Now take the pill before it gets any worse,” he tells you flatly. “That’s an order.”
“Ugh, fine.” Annoyed that Kakashi would seriously pull rank on you in this situation, you grab the pill and pop it into your mouth, before you chase it with a glass of water. Then you frown at him. “If you can’t manage, let me know. I’ll help.”
He raises an eyebrow.
“I mean it, Kakashi. Without a condom, we may not be able to, you know,” you jokingly make a rude gesture indicating sex, “but I know how shitty it can be to try and get through this on your own. If you need my help, let me know. Okay?”
If he’d brought condoms, he’d probably already be inside you right now. God, you feel so fucking empty.
“Okay,” Kakashi agrees, unfazed by the suggestion. The two of you are shinobi first, and people second. Your bodies are tools to be used in service of your village. You know that he knows that, same as you do. It’s definitely not the first time either of you have encountered an aphrodisiac; you’re both too experienced in the field to have that sort of plausible deniability.
The biggest issue, however, is that if it gets worse during the night, then his life could actually be at risk. Aphrodisiacs are still poison, albeit more pleasant than the usual suspects.
Kakashi gets a pensive look about him, then. “The pill will probably knock you out, you know. What then?”
You grimace. Right. So much time has passed since you last needed to take one that you’d forgotten. Forcing rest helps the body to heal more quickly, or some such. It’s terribly inconvenient.
“Well…” There really isn’t another option. If his hand isn’t enough, your unconscious body will have to be, because you sure as hell aren’t waking up to a dead teammate tomorrow. “You can use me,” you say finally, cursing your horny brain for actually enjoying the idea of it, of him using you for his pleasure while you’re asleep. “Take what you need, even if I’m knocked out. You have my permission. Just don’t hurt me, and don’t knock me up.”
A lick of heat comes into that dark grey eye of his, before he clears his throat and nods. “All right.” When he pulls himself to his feet, it’s impossible to miss the tent in his tac pants, though you make sure to keep your eyes above his waist out of respect for him. “Get some rest. I’ll try not to disturb you unless I have to.”
“Have fun,” you say sweetly, waggling your fingers in a wave as he heads back to his room.
Blearily, you wake to the sensation of fingers slicking through your folds.
The plush of your futon cushions your body, just as you remember upon going to sleep, though your yukata has since been pulled open at the front. The slight chill in the air brings goosebumps to the surface of your naked skin, bared to the night, and pebbles your nipples.
The poison seems to have worn off—of you, at least. You aren’t so stupidly hot anymore, but your tits and stomach do feel a bit sticky, a smattering of wetness cooling on your skin.
It’s cum, you vaguely realise. A lot of it.
Heat pools in your abdomen at the realisation that Kakashi used you—your nudity—for masturbation fodder. And now, he has your thighs splayed wide, allowing you to feel the heat of his breath against your soaked core while he spreads you open with his thumbs.
You should tell him that it’s okay. You should tell him that you don’t mind, that he can do whatever he needs to with you, but there’s something unbelievably sexy about him using you for his own enjoyment without you ever knowing. Then again, you’re still pretty out of it from the meds.
When his hot tongue slides up through your slit, a pleasured sound bubbles up from your throat before you can help it. He’s good with his mouth.
Kakashi chuckles against you, swirling his tongue over your clit until your hips jerk. “Finally awake?”
“M’sleepy,” you slur drowsily, rubbing at your eyes.
He hums in response, sluicing his fingers through your slick heat. You expect him to slide them into your aching core, but instead he moves a little lower, circling the rim of your ass with a fingertip. A glob of saliva joins it, before he coos, “I’m sorry for waking you. Is this okay?”
It’s been some time since you had anal, and the thought of it with him only makes you want it more. Maybe there is still some poison coursing through your veins. You’re too out of it for the pill to have fully done its job.
“Yeah,” you sigh, relaxing into his touch.
He flattens his tongue over your clit as he slowly eases his finger inside your tight hole. It’s a bit of a stretch, but you take it easily, moaning at the sensation.
“I know this isn’t ideal,” Kakashi murmurs against your heated flesh, sounding apologetic. “I would have loved to fuck you here,” he delves his tongue into your cunt for a moment, pulling a quiet gasp from you, before he drags it up to your clit again, “if I hadn’t already gotten off a few times. You’re so wet.”
It’s too risky for him to fuck your pussy with whatever semen might be lingering behind. He’s respecting your boundaries, but you’re sure he doesn’t want to take the chance, either.
“S’fine,” you answer sleepily. “Feels good.”
“If it hurts, tell me and I’ll stop, okay?”
“Mm. Okay.”
Time passes like a fever dream. You still feel foggy from the pill, and the pleasurable sensations that Kakashi bestows upon you only muddle your brain even further.
Soon your thighs are squeezing around his head, your fingers buried in soft, silvery hair as he edges you with his mouth for what must be the third time—or more, but you’re too out of it to really keep track. With each near-orgasm, he eases another finger inside, slowly but surely stretching out your tiny hole to take him.
When your body starts to quiver from pent-up release, he carefully withdraws his fingers from your ass and folds your thighs to your chest. Then, his tongue presses into your tight rim, tasting you directly.
The choked moan that rips out of you is nothing short of ungraceful. “K-Kashi,” you slur, cracking your eyes open to blearily meet his. “You don’t have to—mm!”
Kakashi gives you another long, savoury lick, holding eye contact the entire time to make his point, before he sits back up onto his knees and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re offering me your body,” he rasps, smoothing his hand along your calf where it rests on his shoulder. “The least I can do is make sure you enjoy it.”
Then he spits into his palm, messy and wet, and slicks up his cock with saliva. The action is so vulgar that your pussy clenches around nothing.
“Are you ready? I’m happy to prepare you more if you need it.”
“I’ll let you know if I’m not,” you answer breathily. It’s hard to see him in the darkness of your inn room, even if your body falls within the cascade of moonlight coming in through the window. You can still make out the shine of his eyes and the sharp, hard lines of his muscular form, but his face remains in shadow.
Damn it. You really want to see what he looks like under his mask.
“I’ll go slow,” he promises, and he does. Even though you can feel the heat coming off of his skin, and even though you can almost guarantee he’s just as horny as you’d been earlier, he takes it slow.
Kakashi has always had more self-restraint than you, even now.
His cock really is big, too—not bigger than you expected, but it’s definitely a stretch. He presses in carefully, not even an inch at a time, taking in every single one of your reactions to ensure that he doesn’t hurt you.
Your face screws up when the head pops in, locked inside by the tight squeeze of your body. “Fuck,” you choke out. “It’s big.”
He licks his thumb, before he brings it to your clit, rubbing soft circles over it to help ease you into the stretch. “Better?”
You make a soft, pleased noise in the back of your throat. It is better. It helps quite a bit, actually, by offering a distraction for when he slides in a bit further and you encounter a small amount of pain. Nothing severe; it just comes with the territory.
Even still, your hand flies down to jam against his thigh, keep him from going any deeper.
“It’s okay,” he says gently. “I’ll wait.”
And he does.
By the time he’s all the way inside, you’re practically panting like a dog because he feels so fucking good. Your empty cunt still aches to be filled, but the slow, beautiful glide as he pulls nearly all the way out of your other hole is a welcome alternative.
Kakashi adjusts your leg on his shoulder for a better grip. “Ready?”
You nod your head, peering up at him in the darkness.
Then he pushes back inside, all at once, and you both groan.
“I’m not gonna last long,” you gasp, and he lets out a laugh that sounds almost as winded as you feel.
“Neither am I.”
Kakashi treats you like glass in the way that he handles you, ensuring that it’s good for you, but there’s an undercurrent of need in his every movement, his every touch. You can feel it when his fingers dig firmly into the meat of your thigh; feel it in that slight loss of control every so often, when he thrusts hard, once, then reins it back in.
He’s prioritising your comfort, but he needs more.
“More,” you beg, because you need it, too.
He lowers your leg down and leans forward onto his hands, caging your body in between. The moonlight finally, finally reveals his face, and fuck, he just might be the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen. Strong, angular features paired with soft lips and a beauty mark on his chin—he’s gorgeous.
“More?” Kakashi asks amusedly. “Are you sure you can handle it?”
He snaps his hips forward once, testing your resolve.
“Yes, I can fucking handle—”
But you don’t finish, because when Kakashi shifts back slightly to allow another glob of saliva to fall from his mouth and onto the place where the two of you are connected, something in your brain breaks at the sight. It’s filthy, messy, wet—absolutely nothing like what you’ve come to expect from your mission partner, reserved as he is.
Or not. He’s just as much of a freak as you are. He just hides it better. Kakashi ate your ass without a shred of hesitation, and the memory is such a turn-on that you wiggle your hips impatiently.
Another soft laugh leaves him at that. “Needy,” he teases so affectionately that your cheeks burn, but you barely notice because he’s already fucking into you again, slow but so unyieldingly firm in his thrusts that you can almost feel the impact in your throat.
Cursing something unintelligible, you grab at the futon above your head to brace yourself. It feels so mind-numbingly good that you swear you might be going insane—or maybe that’s because the haze from the meds still hasn’t fully cleared.
The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as Kakashi well and truly gives you more, just like you asked for. Every time he hits as deep as he can go, you feel another shred of his self-control slip until he shoves your thighs up next to your ears and leans forward to trap your knees in the crooks of his elbows.
Then he fucks you faster.
You can see the aphrodisiac plain as day on his face, in the beautiful flush that colours his cheeks and chest and the sweat that dots his brow. Some of his hair sticks to his forehead, and when his near-manic eyes lock onto yours, you’re held captive under his hungry gaze.
“Is this what you wanted?” he asks raggedly. The muscles in his arms tense and strain as he holds himself above you, pounding into you, and then his lips curl up to reveal the slight point of a canine. “Maa, I just might break you at this rate, you know?”
It’s almost impossible to think, let alone string a sentence together, but you do it somehow. Each word punches out of your lungs with another forceful thrust. “Break me, then,” you demand, sounding breathless.
A dark note of desire comes into his features, sharingan swirling just a tiny bit faster when you reach your hand between your legs to play with your clit. As if the sensation wasn’t enough already, the sight of him looking so debauched could easily do you in.
And it would, too, if Kakashi didn’t bat your hand away. He drops down onto an elbow to change the angle, and although his cum smears wet between your bodies, neither of you notice because he plunges two fingers knuckle-deep into your cunt.
“You want me to break you, honey?” he asks, voice low, and a choked sort of wheeze rips out of you as he roughly crooks his fingers up into your g-spot. “All right. I’ll break you. Would you like that?”
Scratch that, he might be even more of a freak than you are, and you fucking love it. “Yes!”
Kakashi doesn’t pump his fingers in and out; instead, he uses them to bully your g-spot exclusively, dragging his thumb over your clit with every brutal snap of his hips. Your eyes roll back at the combined sensation, the overwhelm of it all, and you can’t even manage to get another word out—just an embarrassing mix of gasps and whines.
“Oh, look at you,” he sighs appreciatively. “Are you close?”
Your cunt flutters around his fingers as if to answer the question, and he lets out a knowing hum. Then, right before you crest, Kakashi pulls out of your ass and drops down to devour your pussy with an urgency that makes your toes curl.
“Shit,” you squeal, your body writhing under his sudden onslaught.
He rapidly pumps his fingers in and out, hooking them into your g-spot again and again, the wet, sloppy sound of you echoing throughout the room as he finger-fucks you into oblivion, all the while sucking on your clit until you can’t handle it anymore.
“M’gonna—fuck,” you swear, pulling at his hair. Your eyebrows scrunch together as you look down at him, admiring the sight of him, the way he’s focused so intently on your pleasure even as you grind your pussy into his mouth. “Yes, yes—”
The intensity in his eyes when they snap up to meet yours is what finally sends you over.
You shatter apart with distinctly wet gush that soaks your futon straight through to the tatami, but before you’re even finished convulsing, he’s already on top of you again, sliding right back into your poor, abused asshole until he bottoms out.
You choke. The size of him is even more noticeable after your orgasm, especially with the aftershocks still rippling through your body, but it feels good. Mostly.
He pauses, a flicker of softness in his expression. “Too much?”
“Never,” you say, offering what you intend to be a cocky smirk, even though you can barely keep your eyes open.  
His brows raise in surprise, just for a split-second, before he laughs softly and starts to ease in and out of you in slow, patient strokes, giving you a chance to adjust in spite of your bravado. “It’s a shame we didn’t do this sooner,” he comments, tone teasing. “We could have had a lot more fun on all those courier missions last year.”
You snort. “Don’t forget those awful recon missions in the snow.”
“Would have been a great way to keep warm,” he jokes, before his gaze trails over your face for a prolonged moment. “Better?”
You offer him a grateful smile, before you lick your lips, relishing in how his focus drops to your mouth for the briefest of moments. “Yeah. Now fuck me like you mean it, Hatake.”
“Oh?” Kakashi tilts his head in his familiar way—just like when he’s about to knock you on your ass in a sparring match. “You don’t think I meant it before?”
“No,” you answer snootily, because you’re a glutton for punishment.
“I see, I see,” he hums. “My mistake.”
In one fell swoop, you’re flat on your stomach, your face buried in the plush futon; and then he’s spreading your cheeks, spitting crudely onto your hole, and hiking your ass up higher with his grip on your hips.
“Oh, fuck,” you gasp, your cheek mashing into the sheets as he shoves his cock deep inside your stretched-out channel, deeper than he’d been previously.
All sense of softness is gone, now, replaced by a brutality that makes your eyes cross. Kakashi fucks into you hard, relentless in his pursuit to break you just like you wanted, and you love every second of it.
“What do you think, hm? Do I mean it now?” Kakashi asks lightly, after which one hand claps down on your ass when you struggle to piece together an answer. “I asked you a question.”
“Yes,” you croak out, drooling onto the sheets.
“Hm?” Another spank, harder this time, and you hiss in pain. “I don’t think I heard you.”
“Yes!” Your voice cracks on the word, and when he slows down to check on you, you rush to add, desperation in your tone, “Green, fuck, don’t—”
His hand embeds itself in your hair, before he yanks you up, making your back arch almost to the point of discomfort. His other arm snakes around your front and between your breasts, his fingers wrapping loosely around your throat as he pulls your body flush against his chest.
“You even have safe words,” Kakashi murmurs into your ear, grinding his hips into yours. “Why the hell didn’t we do this sooner?”
God, he’s so fucking deep.
“Probably—hah—because we work together,” you say breathlessly, leaning your head back onto his shoulder, “and because Lady Fifth would kill us for fraternizing.”
His laughter puffs hot against the shell of your ear. “What a way to die.”
He releases your hair, and slides his hand between your legs in order to messily work your clit. Your thighs tremble and shake from the added stimulation, your moans only increasing in volume the longer it goes on.
Five seconds, maybe? Ten? You can’t be sure.
“God, I feel like I’m drunk,” you groan, your words still slurring just a little. Time doesn’t feel like a real construct right now; all you know is that Kakashi is the only thing grounding you, keeping you from drifting away with the midnight breeze.
“I’m sorry. I waited as long as I could for the pill to wear off.” Then he presses an apologetic kiss to your temple, and a warm, happy shiver ricochets through you thanks to the affection behind it. “Do you want to stop? I should be able to manage from here.”
“No,” you breathe. “S’fun, just a little out of it.”
“Still want me to break you?”
You shake your head. “I’m getting sore.”
“All right.” He releases you, then, and carefully withdraws. “Lay on your back again. I’ll try to be quick.”
You do as he instructs, shifting onto your back with your legs spread. As you watch Kakashi smear a bit more spit onto his cock, you make a mental note to pack condoms and lube in your bag for future missions—you know, just in case.
He settles back between your thighs, his expression now reminiscent of what you’re used to: calm, serious, measured as he searches your face for any sign of discomfort. “Are you sure? We don’t have to keep going if you’re sore.”
“Mm, yeah. I think I can come again.”
“Yeah? Then I’ll make it happen.”
Kakashi holds himself at your entrance, still watching your face as he starts to ease back inside, and he does it so gently, so tenderly, that you might actually be tempted to fall for him. You’ve never seen this side of him until tonight, even though you’ve been working together off and on for years.
“You’re sweet,” you say without thinking.
His eyebrows shoot straight up onto his forehead, before he coughs to cover a laugh. “My cock is in your ass, and you think I’m sweet?”
Well, when he puts it like that, he has a point. “No, never mind, I take that back,” you respond haughtily, but there’s no heat behind it. “You’re a dick. My bad.”
This time, he does laugh. Kakashi smooths his palm along your thigh as he hooks it over his hip. “Yes, yes. Now, how do you want it? Like this? Or…” He drops back down onto his forearms, pressing your bodies together, and studies your reaction. “Like this? What’s more comfortable?”
You wrap your arms around his neck and lean up to brush his nose with yours, teasing and affectionate. “Like this.”
His eyes shine warmly. “Can I kiss you?”
The question throws you, because he hasn’t kissed you yet. How the hell hasn’t he kissed you yet? “Yeah. Yes. Please.”
He smiles just a little before his lips slot over yours, and your body thrums electric as he begins to rock into you with sensual, fluid movements that alleviate that incessant ache in your abdomen.
“Touch yourself,” Kakashi breathes into your mouth, following the words with his tongue like he intends to explore every inch, maybe steal your breath while he’s at it. You’d let him, too. He’s that good of a kisser.
When you shove your hand between your bodies and find your clit, you throw your head back to bite out a swear. “S-Shit, that’s good—”
He kisses a blazing trail up the line of your neck, his teeth scraping pleasantly against your skin every so often. “You like it when I’m sweet to you?” he hums.
Of course he’d still be making fun of you for that. You can hear it in his tone, but you don’t pay it any mind because he feels so fucking good that you want to scream. It’s all you can do to make a soft little sound in the affirmative, your nails digging into his back.
“Good,” he murmurs, “because I like being sweet to you.”
You whine as he lovingly sucks a bruise on your neck, laving his tongue over the mark to soothe it after.
Then he pulls back just slightly to meet your heavy-lidded gaze. “Where do you want it? I’m not going to last much longer.” 
Your breath comes out in short, sharp pants as he brings you higher—and himself, too, judging by his bitten-back moan of approval when you lock your ankles behind his back. “Inside,” you breathe. “Need it inside.”  
“Fuck, I know you do. Are you—?”
You nod your head frantically as you hold the eye contact, though it becomes increasingly harder to do so the closer you get to the edge. Your eyelids flutter when he hits a particularly good spot inside of you, which he makes a point to target from then on.
“Oh, fuck. Oh my god,” you babble mindlessly, clutching at his shoulders with one hand, rubbing at your clit with the other. “Yes, right there, just like that!”
Kakashi holds you gently under your chin, his fingertips lightly pressing into your cheeks to ensure that you can’t look away, and there’s a fondness to his expression as he watches you fall apart. “Yeah? Like that?”
“Yes,” you sob. “Yes, yes, yes—”
When Kakashi kisses you again, there’s no decorum to it, no finesse, and his teeth click against yours from the sheer need behind it. His tongue pushes deeply into your mouth, stifling your moans as you finally come undone, your muscles bearing down around him so tightly that he has no choice but to shove in as far as he can go and coat your insides with his cum.
He lets out a sound of male satisfaction against your lips, and the sudden burst of heat deep inside your body brings on a sense of warm, fuzzy contentment—the satisfaction of a job well done.
As the aftershocks fade, your heart pounds a frenzied tattoo within the confines of your chest as you work to regain your breath. Kakashi slumps against you, boneless and fatigued and heavy as hell, and you grunt when he all but crushes you under his weight.
“I don’t think I can move,” he says tiredly, muffled with his face buried in your neck. “I think I pulled something.”
“Oh, poor baby.”
At that, he only lays more heavily on you, purposely, which knocks more of the breath out of your lungs; but he does lift up after a moment, and the way he rolls off of you and onto the futon, splaying out spread eagle, would be funny if you weren’t aware of how exhausting the comedown can be from an aphrodisiac.
He’s probably thoroughly tapped out. It’s impossible to say how many times he got off, not to mention all the physical exertion he’d gone through to get there.
“Did you die?” you ask.
“Probably. Your ass did feel like heaven.”
When you groan at his terrible joke and give his side a playful shove, Kakashi chuckles, and god, he sounds beyond tapped out. You’re actually a little concerned, so you lean up onto an elbow to give him a once-over, make sure he’s all right.
That pretty red flush is thankfully beginning to recede from his skin, though you find a number of scratch marks from your fingernails around his shoulders and upper arms. A surge of feminine pride flows through you upon seeing them, and you absently trace one with your fingertip before you finally glance up at his face, only to find him watching you in amusement.
“Pervert,” he says.
You choke on a laugh. “Excuse me?”
Kakashi tucks one of his arms behind his head as a makeshift pillow, looking entirely too self-satisfied for your liking. “You’re just as bad as I am. I could have sworn you’d be more vanilla.”
You turn your nose up at him. “Well, I already knew you were a pervert. You read porn in public.”  
“Erotic literature,” he corrects pointedly.
“Sorry, you read erotic literature in public. Because that’s so much better.”
The two of you look at each other for a moment, trying not to smile at the banter, before you roll your eyes in mock annoyance and lay back down, resting your head on his chest. Kakashi wraps his free arm comfortably around you, trailing delicate patterns along your shoulder with his fingertips.
“Are you feeling better?” you ask quietly.
“A bit. Thank you. I hope you aren’t too sore.”
“Oh, I’m definitely gonna feel it tomorrow. I haven’t done anal in months.” Then you lift your head to give him a cheeky grin, resting your chin on his chest. “Worth it, though. I mean, I finally got to see your face after all these years, so I’m not complaining.”
His lips twitch, like he’s trying not to laugh. “You could have just asked.”
You scoff. “Pass.”
Then you go to lay your head back down, but he stops you.
“Wait. Look at me.” When you do as he says, Kakashi brushes his thumb along the corner of your mouth. “You’ve got something right here.”
“What?” Frowning, you lift your chin a little so he can have a better look. “Well, get it, then.”
Before you can react, he leans in to give you a quick, unexpected kiss.
You blink at him, your heartbeat stuttering inside of your chest.
“Got it,” he hums, licking his lips.
Your cheeks flush all over again. “You—That’s—”
“What, am I only allowed to kiss you if I’m inside you?”
“No! Just…” Your face feels on fire, and you look away, embarrassed. There’s a difference between sex and intimacy, and you’ve just discovered the fine line between them. “Just warn me next time.”
“All right.” You can hear the amusement in his voice, but he doesn’t poke fun at you any longer. Instead, Kakashi leans up to grab the blankets with his free hand, after which he pulls them over you both and wraps that same arm around you, holding you closer than before. “Get some rest. We have a long day tomorrow.”  
Nestled comfortably in his arms, you finally allow your eyelids to flutter shut. “Night, Kakashi.”
His lips brush tenderly over your forehead, before he whispers, “Goodnight.”
A/N: yes they need a shower. no we do not acknowledge this. lmao
thank you for reading! if you could please please please keysmash in the comments or reblog to show your appreciation, it would give me sooo much dopamine :)) thank you!!!
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rafesfavgirl · 7 months ago
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two graves, one gun — r. cameron
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sad rafe fic bc i just got my period and i'm feeling extra emotional :')
series: every few lifetimes
❝ so long, london stitches undone two graves, one gun you'll find someone ❞
pairing: bf!rafe x fem!reader
context: after another night of getting coked out and passing out on barry's couch, rafe realizes you deserve better than him and decides to let you go.
words: 1.3k+
warnings: drug addiction, break-up, might make you cry, ANGSTY asl
the sole of your heel taps anxiously against your living room's hardwood floor, as you stared at the time on your phone's lock screen, which lit up with a photo that wheezie took of you and rafe sitting at one of the tables at midsummers last year, looking at each other as if you were the only people there.
8:30 p.m.
your heart aches at the realization that he had forgotten your date again, but the nerves that settle in your stomach win over, as you think about where he probably is.
pushing your weight off the sofa, you grab your car keys from the hooks on the wall, and dial rafe on your way out the door.
straight to voicemail. fuck.
you skip down the steps in front of your house and unlock your car in the driveway to get in, immediately starting the engine to get on your way.
you dial rafe again as you pull into the road—to no avail.
"damn it, rafe," you mutter, eyes switching between the road and your phone as you type him a message.
you: where are you???
when the message doesn't even go through, you let out a frustrated groan. either his phone's dead or it's switched off. you step on the gas to speed up, zigzagging between cars to get there faster.
you pull to an abrupt stop in front of a beat-down house on the south side, and switch the car off before hopping out.
"mrs. country club, what brings you to this side of the island?" barry stands from the porch when he sees you walking towards him, fuming.
"oh spare me the fake hospitality, barry," you tell him. "where is he?"
"where's who?" he shrugs—but you knew he knew what you were talking about.
"don't play dumb with me," you spat, attempting to walk past him. "i know he's here."
he steps to the side to block you from going any further. "maybe so, but it ain't a pretty sight."
"ugh," you manage to walk past him and proceed into the house, with him on your tail. "rafe!"
barry catches up to you and blocks your way again. "hey, i told you-"
"barry, you're really testing my patience here, alright?" you say, refusing to back down. you weren't scared of him—okay, maybe a little, but you weren't about to let him see that. "rafe!"
you push past barry again, and make your way further inside, immediately rushing to rafe, who was passed out face-down on barry's couch.
"oh my god, rafe!" you crouch down beside him, not missing the un-sniffed lines of coke on the wooden table in front of him, and pick up his head in your hands. "baby, baby," you gently pat his face with your hand. "can you hear me?"
"told you it wasn't a pretty sight," barry leans against a wooden post and watches you, making you roll your eyes.
"rafe," you try to wake him up again. "babe."
thankfully, his eyes flutter open, relief washing over you as you let out a sigh. "oh thank god."
"y/n?" his voice is barely above a whisper when his eyes lock with yours. "shit!"
you move aside when he suddenly sits up, searching the couch cushions for his phone. "what time is it?"
"rafe-"
"no, fuck!" he shouts when he realizes his phone is dead, and looks up at barry. "i told you to wake me up if i knocked out!"
"i'm not your keeper, cameron," barry shrugs. "just take your shit and go, a'ight?"
"baby…" rafe turns to you kneeling on the ground beside him, his voice much softer now. "i swear i set an alarm— i was just— i didn't think my phone would die and-"
"hey," you place your hand on top of his, squeezing it lightly to make him look at you. "don't worry about it. let's just get out of here, okay?"
he nods, and you stand up, dusting yourself off as you do.
"i'll meet you in the car, doll," he tells you. "i just gotta take care of something."
the car ride back to your house is almost completely silent, until rafe breaks it.
"you look beautiful, by the way," he says, eyes shifting to you.
you glance at him, a small smile on your lips. "thank you."
"god, i'm such an idiot!" he groans, clearly frustrated with himself over the situation. "how many missed dates is that this month?"
"rafe, i told you not to worry about it," you tell him. "it's okay, i get-"
"y/n," his voice is stern now, his eyes burning holes into your skin. "how many?"
you sigh, turning the wheel towards the curb to park the car in front of your house. "four," you answer, switching the ignition off. "that was the fourth one this month."
rafe scoffs and shakes his head, eyes averting away from you. he just couldn't look at you anymore, because he knew that even if you didn't show it, you were disappointed. not only at him, but maybe even yourself for putting up with him.
"hey," you place a hand on his knee, and he glances down at the gesture, before finally looking at you. "it's okay."
"how is it okay?" he asks, eyebrows furrowing. "all i do is disappoint you."
"baby, that's not true," you try to reassure him, but he doesn't buy it.
"it is true," he tells you. "and you don't deserve it."
not knowing what to say, you just glance down at your hand on his knee. "rafe…"
"no," he cuts you off, and places his hand above yours to slowly push it off of him. "i can't keep doing this to you."
letting out a sigh, you adjust yourself in your seat so you're looking at him. "okay, rafe, before you saying anything else— i love you, alright? there's nothing you can do that-"
"and that's exactly the problem, a'ight?" he snaps. "you're never gonna walk away from me yourself! even when i bought this shit from barry after i told you to wait in the car." he reaches into his pocket and tosses the small bag of blow in between the two of you. your eyes shift from it to him, the uneasiness in your stomach only getting worse.
"i have a problem y/n," he tells you. "and it's not the kind you can just 'fix' with love."
"then we'll get you help. we'll do any-" you try to reach out to him, but he resists.
"no," he says, motioning a hand between you two. "this has to end."
the words you dreaded hearing comes out of his mouth in one fell swoop, your heart shattering into a million pieces.
"what?"
"i'm never gonna be the guy you need me to be," he shakes his head at you, and if it weren't so dark outside, you swear you'd see his eyes watering. "and since you can't let go, i have to do it for you."
tears brim along your lower lashes as you speak, "no. that is not your choice to make."
"god, y/n, can you stop making this harder than it already is?" he pleads.
"can you stop acting like it's so easy?" you retort.
"you think this is easy?" he asks, taken aback by your accusation. "it kills me to do this."
"then don't," you say, voice cracking as you reach out for his hands. "we can work through your addiction together, rafe. we'll-"
"that's not your responsibility," he shakes his head at you. "if i'm gonna get better, i need to do it on my own."
you sob, "i— i don't want this to be the end.”
rafe glances down at your hands, before bringing his hand up to cup your cheek.
you lean into his touch, and a single tear rolls down your cheek—one that he wipes away with his thumb.
"i love you so much," he says, eyes closing as his head tilted down against yours. "i'm sorry."
his lips place a soft kiss on your forehead, and just like that, he's gone.
part 2.
reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33
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curryshesus · 1 year ago
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bts fics that give me life in a drought
(aka my favorite fics of all time) pt. 2
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didn't expect to make a part 2 so soon but seeing how much recognition the first one got, here we are! some of these contain a hearty amount of angst, and oh they're just simply divine :( once again, please make sure to show your love and support to these lovely authors if you enjoyed any of these reads as much as i did!
➺ knife’s edge - by @readyplayerhobi
| jungkook x reader, jimin x reader | 141.8k
mafia au, fluff, angst, smut, violence, series
>> summary: "the jeon clan is family, built on blood and loyalty. it’s been an unspoken fact that one day you will marry the heir to the clan, jeon jungkook. you would be a fool to deny that you love him, but what happens when you meet a blue haired man who offers you a chance at normality?"
this fic absolutely BROKE ME. i was so conflicted all throughout and deadass went through all the 50 stages of grief. the angst was unparalleled. the fluff had me giggling like a madman cuz jk is an absolute sweetheart :( jimin is too :(( y/n is dumb and so is her situation :((( i cherish this fic sm
➺ novocaine - by @kinktae
| jimin x reader |
1990s au, exes au, angst, eventual smut, series
>> summary: "going home was hard – painful even. but falling back in love with jimin, the boy you left behind? downright gut-wrenching."
➺ ghostin him- by @adonis-koo
| namjoon x reader (taehyung x reader) | 26k
angst, angst, as well as angst. comfort too dw, one-shot
>> summary: "life is nothing more than dull colors for you, your world shattered and laying in the shards of what once was rather than focusing on what is. that is until you meet kim namjoon, who is immediately taken by you without realizing you’re a girl with a whole lot of baggage, through tears and many sleepless nights you’re faced with a choice of hanging on with bleeding hands, or accepting what is, and letting go."
ohmygod the writing hello? the amount of soul, depth, and sheer utter beauty in missy's words are beyond me. had me sobbing every other line and my heart aching all throughout and boy was it worth it.
➺ take five - by @jiminrings
| yoongi x reader | 10k
angst, fluff, unrequited love, pinning
summary: "dr. min yoongi's a board-certified dermatologist; skilled, renowned, and in-demand - oh and also, he's divorced."
➺ page turner - by @gukslut
| taehyung x reader | 13.6k
teacher!tae/ librarian!reader, fluff, smut, minor angst
summary: "corny romance and a zillion cheesy Romeo and Juliet quotes and references."
my tainted hopeless romantic heart ugh. they're so cute.
➺ bloom- by @hobidreams
| namjoon x reader | 20.7k
assassin!reader x florist!namjoon, smut, angst, action, sprinkles of fluff
>> summary: "family is who you kill for. who you die for. in this society, you and your kin are shadows, clinging to the darkness to obey orders absolute. but when such orders command you to abandon what little honor remains for wealth and notoriety, you find yourself lost in lonely uncertainty about the only vocation you’ve ever known. that is, until you meet a man with gentle hands, a poet’s heart, and a love for coaxing the world into bloom."
➺ counterfeit culture - by @ggukcangetit
| seokjin x reader | 29k
modern day au loosely based on jane austen’s pride & prejudice, e2l, fluff, smut, comedy
>>summary: “for as long as you can remember, you’ve always known right from wrong, good from bad, and woke from entitled/ignorant. but when you continue to cross paths with Kim Seokjin - the apparent antithesis of everything you believe in - certain walls begin to crumble. and over time, you come to realise that the world isn’t black and white, first impressions can be misleading, and that you are just as guilty as each person you’ve judged so harshly. realisation brings acceptance, and maybe, just maybe, acceptance can bring something more.”
➺ if i told you - by @gukyi
| jungkook x reader | 22k
friends to lovers!au, college!au, fluff, comedy, angst
>> summary: "in order to pay for university, jeon jungkook decides to market his most valuable asset to the wealthy socialites of campus: himself. donning a suit and tie, tousled hair, and glasses (to look smarter), he becomes every rich daughter’s dream: the perfect boyfriend to bring to balls, dinners, and business gatherings. all while you watch from the sidelines, only able to dream of having that much money to buy yourself what you really want: him."
➺ to hold a dragon's heart - by @softlyjiminie
| taehyung x reader | 19.1k
dragon prince!kim taehyung x warrior princess!reader, smut, angst, fluff, forbidden romance, dragon shifter!au, royalty!au, enemies to lovers!au
>> summary: "two kingdoms, two hearts and the world between them. your whole life has been a challenge, never an easy moment on your road to becoming queen but will one decision, one encounter with the man you were destined to hate, change the fate of your worlds, forever?"
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dipperscavern · 4 months ago
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ugh my most fave account in the whole WORLD can I ask for bathing w Jon??? Doesn’t even have to be smutty (tho I wouldn’t complain) just like spending time with him after a stressful day, maybe a massage, maybe some ogling idk ����‍♀️🤷‍♀️
most fave account in the world… you’re just saying that… [batting my lashes] absolutely u can!! thank u for the ask <3
jon snow x fem!reader, set after the battle of the bastards
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jon’s not sure who’s blood he’s covered in anymore. dirt & grime cling to him like moths to a flame, and he’s exhausted — in all senses.
it’s emotional, being back in winterfell. it’s halls echo with the haunted laughter of the ghosts that once roamed them, and jon can almost feel the memories etched onto the bricks under his fingertips. how many feet have walked these halls?
he knows winterfell it’s just a castle, a place that’s been here & will remain here long after he dies. he knows it’s the people that make a place a home — knows the castle doesn’t take sides or have favorites of its inhabitants, but he can’t help the feeling of possession that licks up his spine. a strange sense of family, like the castle itself has been waiting to hold them all in its walls once more.
and, he feels a sense of pride. accomplishment. finally does he have back that which was taken from him and his family when the realm fell apart. he’s been guarding the wall for years, and he vows to guard winterfell with the same ferocity.
he thinks all this while he stands at the window of his old room, watching the banners of flayed men be cut down & replaced with direwolves. bolton’s, cut down. replaced by starks. a hot bath awaits behind him, waiting to wash his sins clean, but he hasn’t so much as looked at it yet. he feels so much, all of it all at once. grief, shock, pain, nostalgia — all which make his head spin.
the adrenaline of battle quickly disappears from his system, making his knees buckle as he leans against the windowsill. little black spots dance in his vision as he tries to regain his balance. rickon chipped a tooth on this sill, he thinks. the memory uncomfortably squeezes at his heart.
as his brain assesses he’s not in danger anymore, various injuries now come to light. the ache of his knuckles, bruised & wet with blood. whether it’s his or ramsays, he can’t be entirely certain. his legs hurt, his arms hurt; the cuts on his face scream as dirt mixes with the open wound. he can feel the plethora of grime in his scalp, and the strain of his hair being pulled back. he should- needs to be back out there, checking on his men, surveying winterfells grounds, helping with the cleanup — but he can’t do that until he gives his body some respite. he needs relief, but where does he even start?
he’s smoothing a hand over his jaw when the door opens, and he turns to see you. you exhale, visibly relaxing at the sight of him as you close the door. your eyes rake up and down his body, seemingly checking for any mortal wounds. he understands, you lost sight of each other as soon as the battle started. well, you lost sight of him as the entirety of the bolton army ran at him full speed.
“Sansa said you’d be here.”
albeit less than him, you’re covered in the aftermath of battle yourself. while relieved to see you, jon doesn’t have the energy to respond, meeting your eyes with a tired look & nodding. you smile at the sight of what he’s leaning against, moving to join him at the sanctuary of his window.
“Rickon chipped a tooth on this sill.”
when he thought of it, it hurt. but when you mention it, it only makes him smile — huffing out a breath of laughter.
“Aye. He did.”
you look out the window for a moment, relishing in seeing the stark banners hang once more, before reaching a hand up to cradle his cheek. you have it angled to not touch any of his cuts, and the small gesture makes him only fall more in love with you, if even possible.
you look at him for a moment, and then move to reach for jon’s gloved hand. he almost pulls back at the thought of sullying your clean hands with his own, caked with blood both metaphorically & physically — but he fails to realize you took lives today too. your hands are just as sullied as his own, but never in his mind will they be equal. either way, you don’t seem to mind, eager to reaffirm the idea that he’s okay by feeling him under your hands.
you begin to slide off his glove, and he winces at the exposure of his bloody knuckles. they’re bruised, skin partially cracked from the force he used to have a conversation with the bolton bastard. your brows pinch, muttering an apology as you toss the glove on the floor & move to take off the other.
he looks at you as you work, and he suddenly feels a surge of emotion. how lucky is he to have someone that understands him so? you know what he needs even when jon himself doesn’t, and he has to resist the urge to interrupt you by pressing a kiss to your temple. he settles on allowing the corners of his lips to quirk up in a small smile.
even in his gratefulness, he can’t help the thought that lingers in the back of his mind. the thought that he should be out there, tending to the wounded or helping in some other way (as if he wasn’t part of the fight to win back winterfell). anything other than remaining warm in the castle halls while there’s still work to be done. he can’t help himself, and eventually voices as much.
“I should be out there.”
“Sansa has it.” you say, not even glancing at him as you begin to fiddle with the buckles of his outer layer.
sansa. he thinks back to the spoiled princess that left winterfell, and now to the politically-savvy ruler that’s been left in her wake. from what he’s seen, she’s become strong, and if you say she has it — she has it. he selfishly relishes in letting someone else take the lead, even if only for a moment.
he feels exhaustion beginning to settle in, taking root deep in his bones. the prospect of you, a bed, and warm furs currently entice him more than any offer of gold or jewelry, but he knows it’ll be long before he can get what he desires. he decides to compromise, settling for the present until time calls for sleep.
once you get his outer layer off, he begins to strip himself bare. he has no care for you seeing him, you’ve both been as naked as your name day before the other countless times — who is he to hide from you now?
as the dirt, sweat, and blood that were trapped underneath his clothing get released, the reprieve is palpable. his skin appreciates its liberation from the suffocating fabric, beginning to assuage its protest.
eventually, he steps in, sinking into the bath & letting the hot water turn his mind off. his eyes flutter shut at the instant soothe it provides, and he’s thankful to have all his uncomfortable clothing off. his injuries sting at first, making him grimace, but they eventually calm down. he’s vaguely aware of you approaching behind him, moving to sit on the stool handmaidens usually use to assist their lord or lady.
your hands come to fuss with his hair, untying the portion of it that’s held back. the tension that snaps free from his head has his brows knitting, a shaky exhale falling from his lips. your hands run through his curls, lightly scratching at his scalp. the ache of it is delicious, and goosebumps litter his body at the feeling.
you look down at jon, a light smile adorning your face at the sight of his relief. watching the bolton army swarm him had your chest tightening, uncomfortably compromising any hope of air entering your lungs. you watched as ramsay paid his debt for his transgressions, as jon lost himself in his anger, and as sansa snapped him out of it. and truthfully, horribly, you’re just glad he’s alright.
you lean forward, resting a hand on the edge of the tub as your head leans against his own, tipped back. your other hand comes over his shoulder, finding purchase on any skin available to you. you’ve done this dance before — almost losing him, and then having to convince yourself he’s okay again. you can only do that by feeling him through your fingertips, greedily soaking up his touch like vultures during winter.
you both don’t need words. you became fluent in the language of your comfortable silence long ago.
you sit there for a moment, relishing in his presence, his touch, being in winterfell again. you look to the window, thinking of all there is to be done, and sigh. you need to get back out there. you press a kiss to his temple, then retract, moving to stand up. the water lightly sloshes around as jon looks at you.
you lightly caress the back of his neck, looking down at him. “I should return. Offer assistance where it’s needed.”
you move to walk off, but jon catches your hand. “You could join me,” he says. “If you like.”
you look to him, your gaze accidentally flickering to his chest. his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and you look away. you never did have any resolve when it came to jon.
you squeeze his hand, then turn to start undressing. you didn’t even realize how uncomfortable you were until you started shedding your layers, freeing your irritated skin. your head drops down, and you run your hands through your hair. gods. how long had you been fighting?
you don’t notice how jon’s gaze is trapped on you, mapping the expanse of your body. if he’s ever doubted the existence of the gods, your presence reaffirms that belief. you were hand crafted, created with the intention to embody beauty in human form. if you asked of him absolution, jon would pray — kneeling before you as his altar.
you discard your clothes, moving to step in opposite from him. you’re fairly unharmed, other than the few small bruises that litter your body. the hot water enveloping you is everything and more, and you mutter a “Gods..” as you sink in. jon’s gaze hasn’t left you once.
you sigh. “It’s strange. Being back.”
jon only nods, looking out the window, expression becoming distant as he recounts the experiences had in the safety of these walls. hide and seek games that lasted well into the night. sneaking into the kitchens. archery and sword training. nan’s old ghost stories. your shared first kiss.
the last thought has his lips quirking up in a smile, returning his sight to you only to find you already looking at him. he leans forward, arm outstretching for you.
“Come here.”
he reaches for you, and you oblige — letting him turn you around & pull you to his chest. the water sloshes as you both move, getting more comfortable than you’ve been in weeks.
his touch has always been grounding, anchoring you in a way you weren’t made to understand. right now, it’s just you and jon in your own world. no sickness, no death, no cruelty. only serenity, and you think you could stay in this moment forever. still, you know you can’t, and that the aftermath of battle awaits just outside the old wooden door.
but, for now, you both lay against the other — gaze trapped on rickons’ sill as the banner of the wolf flies once more.
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muneca-lemon-steppa · 1 year ago
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Mooooo ! I love you so much bby 💕 my I request one with Alfie with the touch starved prompts “you never have to earn my affection-not now, not ever” and “I’m never more at peace than when I’m in yours arms”? Thank you lovely❤️❤️
My baby girl!!!!!!! Ugh thank you so much for sending this in. Did my heart ache writing this? Yes. Did my stomach hurt? Also yes. Am I sorry for it? NO. WE DO NOT APOLOGIZE FOR EMO HOURS IN THIS HOUSE. Hehehe Anyway I love ya so much I hope you enjoyyyyyy.
100 Follower Celebration: Your Love is Enough
Alfie Solomons x Fem!Reader
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There were many perks that came with being Alfie's woman. While there was certainly a good deal of danger lurking around, there was an undeniable air of safety you had due to all the eyes watching. You got access to all the hot goings on around the city. You lived comfortably. And above all, you got to love Alfie Solomons fully and purely and unabashed. There was only one downside really... the talk.
It was no secret that you were significantly younger than Alfie. It was something you and Alfie never shied away from and didn't feel a need to. Regardless of any age difference, you and Alfie understood each other on a cosmic level, a way no one else could. You loved him with your whole heart and soul and Alfie would burn down the world if you asked him to. You were one. And anyone who truly knew you and Alfie knew that this was true love. That this was the type of love and devotion that epics were written about and empires crumbled over. But there were always going to be people who didn't know. Always going to be people who didn't understand.
You were perusing fabric patterns in the shop down the street one early afternoon, looking for the final pattern to add to a quilt you were making for Ollie's soon to be born first child. You delicately touched the cotton blends along an aisle, imagining how it would look along the squares you had already picked, taking mental note as to what was available.
"I just cannot imagine what he sees in her. I mean... she is a child isn't she?"
Your ears perked up to the tone. It was Mrs. Vorsed from down the corner, the one you waved to every morning without even a smile in return. Another voice responded, "You know how men are. They just want a little toy to play house with until they find a wife."
Who on earth could they be talking about?
"Mr. Solomons needs a real woman in his home. My Portia knows what it means to be a lady of the house, and knows her place. I mean that girl he is shacked up with... I can hear her shouts and laughter from down the street! What does she know about keeping a home, much less keeping a man?"
A snicker erupts, "Well I'm sure she won't last long. He'll tire of her eventually when he realizes what he truly needs. Then Portia can swoop right in!"
The cackles fade away with the sharp chops of heavy footed steps. Despite your efforts, the knot in your throat never went down. You lungs refused to take in breath as the words spun in your mind. How could they say those things so confidently? They didn't even know you. They never even stepped foot into the house, how could they know how you keep it? Alfie never said more than a good morning to Mrs. Vorsed. How could they know anything about you or Alfie? Yet their words kept spinning and spooling around in your mind. What if... what if they were right?? What if people saw something that you couldn't see? What if you had deluded yourself into thinking that Alfie was truly happy and in love with you? What if he was unhappy but didn't want to tell you out of duty. It all became too much in your chest, and you left the store without your fabric, but the weight of the world on your chest.
That evening Alfie could not wait to get home to you. Every evening Alfie nearly buzzed at the prospect of coming home to see your face again, and wrap himself around you, getting as close as possible. You made his day better. You made his life brighter and joyful and meaningful. It made all the business and badness worth it. Stepping through the threshold with a press to the mezuzah, Alfie calls out, "Sweet girl! I'm home! You in the kitchen darling?"
He hears you call back and smiles wide, stomach growling hungry for supper and you. Taking off his coat and hat he ambles into the kitchen, watching you stir something magical in the massive soup pot. "My dove ,my angel, my joy, what are you doing? Making food for the Royal Navy are we?"
You turn to him, and he can clearly see that something is wrong. Your lips are quivering and poorly attempting to portray a smile, and your eyes are glassy and red rimmed. He feels a stab in his chest, "Now wait a minute treacle... what's got you crying?"
You wiped your cheek and turned away, "I'm not crying."
With a scoff he grabs your chin gently, turning you to face him, "I thought we didn't lie to each other my sweet. Especially since you're the worst liar since the Garden of Eden. Why are you crying? Come on now confess."
You shrugged as Alfie's hands moved up and down your arms, "It's nothing. Stupid really I shouldn't be crying."
"Nah nah. It ain't stupid if it's got my sweet girl crying like that. Out with it."
The tears kept falling, though you tried to keep an even tone, "I just... I heard some women talking. Mrs. Vorsed and another lady."
Alfie rolled his eyes, "Always a bad sign. C'mon what else."
You sniffled, "And... well... they said that... I wasn't good enough for you. That I didn't know how to be a good woman to you. And that you would be better off with someone else. That you would soon grow tired of me. That I'm not deserving of you, and Portia Vorsed would be a better match for you."
The tears started coming harder, and you couldn't help the shaking of your body. Alfie's stomach dropped, and rage replaced it. Alfie shook your shoulders a bit in his passion, "What the fuck is wrong with them? Treacle, Mrs. Vorsed is the worst gossip in Camden, and doesn't know anything about anything. She hasn't got anything better to do but talk absolute shit. Portia, right? She is the silliest woman in town, she can't even do basic arithmetic because she's too busy being an idiot. I mean fuck me treacle I can barely say good morning to Mrs. Vorsed without getting proper fucking agitated!"
Alfie kissed your forehead and brought you to his chest, "YOU are the one for me. I don't give a shit what Mrs. Vorsed or what any other decrepit woman or idiot man thinks. You are my life. You are my stars and my moon and my sun alright? You don't have to be 'good enough' for me. Fuck you just are. You never have to earn my love. You've always had it. Even before I knew you my old and brittle heart was yours. You got that?"
You nodded, the tears pooling in his shirt. Alfie pulled you away from him to look into your eyes. "And treacle I don't even think Mrs. Vorsed can see more than a meter in front of her so she probably has no clue who she is talking about."
You laughed despite the tears and Alfie grinned. All he wanted to do every day was to make you smile. He was convinced that was what he was put on this earth to do. You put your hand to his face, feeling him lean into the warmth of your palm. "I just want to love you and care for you like you do me. I just worry that I don't do enough sometimes."
He grabbed your hand, kissing your fingertips, "Ah my sweet. I'm never more at peace than when I'm in your arms. I'm never more at home than when you're next to me. The whole business could go to shit and I'd still be the richest man in the world because I have the greatest treasure in you. And I mean that my love. You believe your old man right?"
You nod. The lump in your throat finally dissapated and the weight melted away. There was truly no love like Alfie's and yours. People could talk all they want. People could make any assumptions they wanted. That didn't change what was true. And what was true was that you and Alfie belonged to each other and would for all of eternity.
672 notes · View notes
waynes-multiverse · 7 months ago
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Video Games
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Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female!Reader
Summary: It's been a long time, and Ben direly misses his wife. Only a video chat truly reveals how much. Accompanying one shot to Rehab
Warnings: 18+/NSFW, language & insults, human!Ben, long distance relationship, smut (masturbation f & m, dirty talk), angst
Word Count: 2.0k
A/N: I know you guys begged me for a happy ending, and I promise it's coming (maybe in form of a three parter? 👀), but yeah, this is clearly not it. Somehow, my fingers always go rogue on the keyboard when it comes to these two, no matter my good intentions.
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Transfixed green eyes are glued to the TV screen as Victoria Neuman gives yet another speech on another stage in another state on V-SPAN, yapping about some fucking policies Ben doesn’t give two shits about. He also could give less fucks about the president in general, his gaze focused on a young, beautiful woman standing by Neuman’s right side.
Yeah, he’s only enduring that shit show for her.
Y/N’s tight black pencil skirt makes his cock ache. It ends a few too many inches above the knees, too short for a Chief of Staff. Ben knows she’s only wearing it for him. It’s part of the sick game they’ve been playing.
That little piece of clothing could ride up any second and reveal her glistening pussy underneath to a whole audience, flashing conservatives and liberals alike. Ben has told her not to wear panties, and because she’s a good fucking girl, she has obliged his wishes. Y/N’s the best fucking wife, after all.
His eyes then flicker to the door down the hallway as he sits comfortably on the couch with a beer bottle in hand. It’s still shut tightly, the kid fast asleep. With the air clear, Ben’s hand slips into his sweatpants and palms his semi, jerking his fist up and down his hardening length.
He shuts his eyes for a heartbeat, imagining what her tight and soaked cunt feels like wrapped around him. Fuck, he misses her so goddamn much. He hates being alone, even though he’s not. He’s still got the kid, so it all trickles down to him fucking hating being without her.
There’s no cure for Y/N, and there’s no replacement for her, either.
Ben sets the beer down on the coffee table and frees his dick fully, shuffling the gray sweats down to his ankles. When Neuman finishes the last leg of her speech, he watches as Y/N eagerly begins to chew on her bottom lip, almost gnawing the goddamn thing bloody. She’s as fucking giddy as he is.
As soon as the president and her entourage leave the stage, Ben grabs his phone and opens her contact. His thumb brushes the little blue button with the camera symbol, his ears waiting to hear her sweet and sultry voice again as it dials.
Her bright smile is the first thing he sees. His heart beats so fast the friction causes a fire and melts the broken thing into a puddle. He can feel the heat in his cheeks as they involuntarily rise with a smile he can’t muzzle.
“Fuck, I’m so hard, baby girl,” he says and squeezes the throbbing cock in his fist.
Y/N laughs, shaking her head. “Hello, husband. I’m good, thank you for asking. How are you?”
“Like I said, fucking hard,” he reiterates, his deep voice raspy, impatient, and hungry. He rolls his green eyes. “C’mon, you really wanna chitchat about small talk? I know you’re fucking dripping for my cock under that tight little skirt.”
Y/N’s eyes widen scoldingly, but the flush of red in her cheeks makes him chuckle. “Ben! I’m still in the elevator. At least let me get to my hotel room first.”
“Perfect.” Ben smirks broadly, a mischievous glint in his forest green orbs. “Just push the red ‘Stop’ button and lemme rail that cunt there.”
“Charming as always,” another voice chimes.
“I’m not alone, you idiot,” Y/N informs him, giggling, and swings the camera till Victoria’s bitchy grin of amusement comes into view.
Ben rolls his eyes in open and shameless annoyance, scoffing. “Ugh, of course, that bull dyke’s with you…”
Victoria only smirks at his insult with crossed arms. “Unlike you, that never gets old, coot. How are those adult diapers suiting you?”
“You fucking hippie cuntzilla,” Ben grits angrily, his brow scrunching so much he’s close to a rage headache. “You couldn’t fucking handle all of me.”
“Trust me, I don’t want to,” Victoria huffs mockingly. “You know what they say – once the body goes, the mind follows, you dried-up dinosaur.”
“You fucking–”
“Okay, alright! Stop it you two. Enough with the insults,” Y/N steps in and pans the camera away from Neuman’s winning smirk and back to her. She sighs. “That’s my floor. We’re almost there.”
Ben still boils with fury, especially when he hears the two women exchange a few bullet points about a staff meeting before bidding their goodbyes. But by the time Y/N unlocks the door to her room, he’s simmered down enough and stroked his cock back to its full glory.
Y/N sets up her phone on her dresser, the lens focused on her as she takes a step back. A naughty smile curves her lips as she licks them and plays with the buttons on her blouse.
“Ready?” she asks and waits for him to switch the camera around.
Ben chuckles and aims the lens on his dick, standing proud and tall. “Look for yourself, baby girl.”
Y/N bites her lip at the sight of his cock – so fucking thick, long, and swollen. “Fuck, I’d kill to have you inside of me right now,” she coos and pops open the buttons of her blouse, one by one. Soon, the white silk material slips off her shoulders and leaves her standing in an all too-innocent white bra, her tits perfectly framed by delicate lace. Her hands then wander behind her back and unhook it, freeing two full breasts. She massages and gropes them, rolling her pert nipples between her fingers as she moans.
“Shit, you know that fucking turns me on when you talk like that,” Ben grunts, pumping his cock harder as it swells in his hand. “Show me that tight pussy of yours. Need to see it before I fucking come. Bet it’s real wet, huh?”
“Fucking drenched,” Y/N croons and opens the back zipper of her skirt. “Can feel it fucking run down my thighs. Thought all day about you. I didn’t wear any panties like I promised you.”
“Such a fucking good girl,” Ben praises her with a smirk on his lips. “Where’s that fucking feminism of yours now, huh?” he teases, chuckling. “Fuck, I wanna feel that slick on my fingers and lick it clean off.”
“This one, asshole?” Y/N giggles as her hand delves into her skirt and runs through her soaked folds. She pulls out her glistening fingers and sucks them into her mouth, tasting her own sweet arousal.
“Fucking shit…” Ben hisses, his cock twitching needily in his hand. All he wants is to eat her out and sink into her. “Pull that fucking thing off right now and get on the bed. Ass first,” he orders.
Y/N does as he says, the skirt falling down her smooth legs and revealing her bare pussy to him. She spins around and climbs on the mattress on all fours, wiggling her ass high in the air. She smirks over her shoulder at the camera when she hears his wanton growl before she lays down on her back and spreads her legs wide, her pink and wet cunt in full view.
“Fuck, look at you, baby. So fucking perfect. I’d love to fuck you stupid till you’re a drooling mess, you little cockslut,” Ben says and can feel himself riding closer to the edge. “Touch yourself for me. Flick that little clit till you tremble and scream for me to fill you.”
Y/N’s hand dives between her thighs, two fingers rubbing circles on her sensitive flesh. She mewls and whimpers with every touch. “Fuck, can I put a finger inside me?”
“Shit, yeah,” Ben groans enthusiastically. “Try three. Stuff ‘em in there. Real deep. Come for me, baby. Wanna see that pretty face you make.”
“Fuck, Ben! I need you… I want you… So bad… Want your cock to fuck me… Please… I miss you…” Y/N moans and cries as she works herself into a frenzy. The familiar tug in her belly threatens to implode with each stroke.
Ben’s already a goner when those last words reach him, fisting his cock so hard he’s glad he doesn’t have superpowers anymore. He might’ve broken it for good otherwise. Precum leaks from his red and swollen tip, slicking his aching dick with each jerk of his hand. He’d give anything to feel her mouth and ample lips around his length, but the memory of it suffices to make him explode for now.
Swiftly, he grabs a few tissues from the box next to him and blows his load inside of them while Y/N’s blissful screams fill his ears as her climax tears through her. A few more slow and lazy strokes milk the rest of his dick before his shoulders deflate, and Ben relaxes back into the comfort of the soft couch cushions.
Pantingly, they lie in silence for a minute and let their speeding hearts find calm again. Y/N then props up from the bed and saunters to the dresser to grab her phone before she plops back down on the mattress. She frames the camera on her face and smiles at him, her cheeks flushed with an afterglow.
Ben smiles, too, although there’s a twinge in his stomach and a pinch in his heart. He’s grown to love the perks of technology and the twenty-first century. If he couldn’t see her on that little screen in his hand every night, he would’ve gone mad a while ago.
But everything else still sucks. The fact he can’t touch her, hold her, and love her the way he wants to fucking sucks.
“You okay there, stud?” Y/N checks, even though the truth is written clear as day on his freckle-dusted face. She feels it, too – that sickening, torturous, and undeniable pull towards him. All she wants is to rest her head on his broad chest and beating heart with his strong arms wrapped around her, holding her so tight she can barely fill her lungs with air.
Ben’s tongue swipes over his chapped lips for a moment. He’s not someone who shares his emotions easily, and it’s only gotten harder for him without her near. But it’s too fucking much, and there’s no end in sight.
“No,” he admits with a tormented swallow. “It’s not fucking okay. I fucking miss you. You’re my goddamn wife. You’re supposed to be here, Y/N.”
“I know.” Y/N exhales a sympathetic sigh and tries her best to be there for him, even though she’s exhausted after an 80-hour work week. “I miss you, too. And the kid. So much. It’s not always gonna be this way. You know I can’t come home. I don’t wanna hurt anyone, least of all you.”
“I don’t fucking care anymore. It’s been six months. We’ll figure it out. Just come home, my love,” he all but begs in the four walls of his quiet house. For Y/N, he’d even go down on his knees. He just wants her here. He doesn’t care what it costs him, virility included.
“Ben…” Y/N bites her lip, her eyes pleading. “I’m making a difference here. I’m actually doing something good.”
“Fuck that! Fuck all of that shit, Y/N!” Ben yells and strains himself to lower his voice, not wanting to wake the boy. “I fucking love you. I’m sick and tired of those games. How many fucking times do I have to tell you that I miss you, huh? I don’t wanna do this anymore. I don’t wanna call you and hope you have time to pick up. I don’t wanna text you and wait hours for a fucking answer. I don’t wanna fuck you through a dumbass screen. I miss you. I miss my wife. I miss actual goddamn sex, for fuck’s sake!”
Y/N holds back the brimming tears in her eyes, her longing heart agreeing with his words. “I know. I miss all of that, too. Maybe it’s time. Maybe we should finally talk about it.”
Ben’s brow furrows. He doesn’t like the tone in her voice and the look on her face that’s full of heartbreak. “Talk about what?”
“Divorce.”
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I know, I know... "Wayne, why are you being so cruel, mean, and evil to us?" But I promise you those two will figure their shit out eventually. They've been through too much to let go now 💚
But man, do I love writing some Neuman/Ben banter. I wish they had actual screen time on the show. I feel like it would've been fucking hilarious 😂
This is not the end. Those two idiots will be back 😘
TAGS:
Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey @deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies @agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28 @mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444 @syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity
Rehab Series: @nancymcl @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @sparkydonugh
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writing-for-marvel · 2 years ago
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Don’t Get Sad, Get Even
Boyfriend’s Roommate!Ari Levinson x Fem!Reader
Summary: After finding out your boyfriend is cheating on you, you decide to get back at him by sleeping with the one person he was always insecure about throughout your relationship, his roommate.
Prompt: For making me believe that you could be faithful to me - Rihanna, Take a Bow
Warnings: strictly 18+, cheating & revenge sex, use of toys (dildo & vibrator), masturbation, unprotected vaginal sex, creampie
Word count: 2.4k
A/N: this is my entry for my darling friend @flordeamatista’s Loveeeeeee Song Writing Challenge. Banners by @vase-of-lilies
Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Library
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You can’t deny that the sight of your boyfriend stumbling upstairs, lips locked with some young, college chick, fumbling to unhook her bra, makes your heart drop below your stomach.
You knew, even from the outset of your relationship, that Bryce wasn’t going to be the guy you walked down an aisle and pledged ‘I do’ to, but he had, at least initially, been attentive and put in the effort to make you feel beautiful. Your chest aches at the thought that it only took a couple drinks and a pretty girl seductively sucking on a straw, for him to break the four month long commitment you made to each other.
That he didn’t have the decency to break up with you before not so subtly sliping away from a party he himself dragged you to, to fuck some stranger a mere wall away from where he left you minutes earlier with the promise to fix you both a drink.
With your head held high, despite the slight sting behind your eyes and a lump forming in your throat, you stand and stalk out of the house, tuning out the disparaging whispers of his friends as you leave.
Fuck him for not being able to recognise your worth, and fuck settling for his unsatisfying, vanilla, one minute performances he was no doubt be subjecting that luckless college girl to right now.
If he’s going to fuck whoever he wanted, you’re going do the same. And you’ll start with the person Bryce was the most insecure about during your relationship - his roommate.
* * *
Ari enters his shared apartment and notices the sound of the shower running, which is odd considering he distinctly remembered his roommate telling him he’d have the place to himself this Saturday night.
Knowing Bryce could in fact be dumb enough to forget to turn the water off before heading out, Ari begrudgingly goes to do it for him, only to realise that it isn’t Bryce’s shower that’s running.
Surely he couldn’t have been stupid enough to do it himself? Cursing the insanely high water bill they were sure to get this month, Ari rushes to turn the shower off in his own private bathroom.
Once he storms in and his brain has time to realise what he’s actually witnessing, he’s already harder than a rock.
“Hey Ari.” You say so casually, almost devilishly, even though you’re completely naked and masturbating in his bathroom. You’ve left the door to the small shower open, giving Ari a perfect view of you riding a dildo stuck to the floor, steamy water flowing down your back and dripping onto the tiled floor from your ass. And by the faint buzzing sound reverberating off the tiled walls, he’s also fairly certain you’re using a vibrator. The thought makes him even more painfully hard.
“Ugh Sunshine, you do know this is my shower, don’t you?” Your heart flutters at his nickname for you. You suspect he only playfully called you that because of how it upset Bryce each time the moniker left his lips, but it still manages to slip out when it’s just the two of you and he’s found you in this downright pornographic scene.
“Yeah, I know. It's just… I saw Bryce cheating on me tonight and I thought fuck it, I always thought you were really hot.” Ari takes a prudent step closer to the shower, swearing under his breath as he watches the thick dildo disappearing into your pussy with each twerk of your hips. “I wanted to see if you could fuck me better than he can.”
“You think there’s even a contest?” Ari asks rhetorically as he adjusts himself in his shorts, desperate for any type of friction to ease his painful throbbing need. “I’ve heard how unsatisfied he’s left you through these very walls.”
“Guess you’ll just have to prove it to me then.” This time Ari wastes no time in accepting your challenge. Turning off the running water, his large hands pick you up from the shower floor and squeeze your ass as you wrap your legs around his waist.
He kisses you with urgency and need, swiping his tongue into your mouth as if his life depends upon it, but the ardent kiss is over far too quickly as in three long strides Ari’s already at the foot of his bed, laying you down and pulling his shirt over his head.
You’re practically drooling watching him undress, his broad shoulders, strong arms and toned abs could fool anyone into thinking he was a god carved from stone. And when he finally strips himself of his shorts and underwear, you actually salivate at the sight of his deliciously large dick already hard and ready for you.
“Fuck, you’re so much bigger than Bryce.” Your brain is practically malfunctioning at the view of the naked, burly man in front of you and these words are all you can think to say.
“This is what you’ve been missing out on, Sunshine.” Ari comments with a smirk.
He kisses you again, with the same intensity as before, but now he takes his time to explore your mouth, his hands desperate to feel every inch of you, every beautiful swell and dip, every exquisite curve he gets to claim for the night.
“Turn around for me, I wanna see that ass.” You do as he commands, face and chest to his bed, arching your back with your ass in the air, giving him prime view of exactly what he wants. You grab your vibrator, switch it on your preferred setting and hold it at the angle you’ve come to know with experience gives you the most pleasure, humming in satisfaction when you find just the right spot. “Fuck, you’re so sexy when you use that toy.”
You feel him teasingly drag the head of his dick through your folds, coating himself in your arousal, which in turn makes you wetter.
“Shit, that’s a pretty pussy. So wet for me. You’ve been thinking about fucking me for a while, haven’t you?”
You breathlessly admit you have during the beat where he pauses and lines himself up with your entrance. A chorus of moans echoes through the room as he pushes into you for the first time. He fills you up agonisingly slowly, but his bruising grip on your hips prevents you from pushing back into him. The burn of your walls stretching to accommodate him dissipates once he’s fully sheathed within you and all you can think about is how completely and utterly full you feel.
“Holy shit, you’re so tight.” Ari gives himself a moment to savour the sensation of how your soft walls grip him and seemingly pull him further into you before he begins to move, quickening his pace with every new thrust.
“Fuck, you feel so good. Fill me up so deep, Ari.” The combination of the vibrator continuously stimulating your clit and the feel of Ari’s every inch driving in and out of you already has your toes curling.
“Say my name again baby, let the neighbours know who’s fucking you so good.” You do as he requests, chanting his name with every plunge of his cock.
His bed creaks with each rocking movement, the sound of the headboard thumping into the wall rhythmically fills the room along with your moaning and the salacious sound of skin slapping skin.
“Shit, right there, Ari. Don’t fucking stop!” You think perhaps there should be a part of you that’s embarrassed at how quickly you’re finding your release, but with how neglected and needy Bryce has left you, you’re utterly desperate to feel that pent up tension snap like a rubber band.
“That’s it, pretty girl, cum for me, wanna feel you squeezing my cock.” Ari can feel how close you are, your velvety walls fluttering around him, teetering on the edge of ecstasy. With one strong thrust, your long awaited release washes through you like a wave. Every cell in your body floods with pleasure, blinding your vision and losing control of all motor function, causing you to let go of the vibrator.
As if Ari can sense the future, he’s ready when you go slack, taking the toy from your limp hand and maintaining the perfect pressure on your clit, never breaking rhythm with his thrusts, prolonging your orgasm to the point where you’re desperately mewling for him to stop and tugging at his sheets to escape the tsunami of overwhelming pleasure.
“Best pussy I’ve ever felt. I bet Bryce doesn’t fuck you this good.” Ari says as he lazily pulls out of you, wiping stray, sweaty strands of hair from his eyes as he lays beside you on his bed, gently tapping his thighs as his indication he wants you to get on top.
“Not even close.” You say breathlessly with a smirk, a little insecure about how your legs wobble as you straddle him, though Ari doesn’t seem fazed by it. In fact, he looks overjoyed watching you look down at him, a hint of endearment swirling in his lust blown pupils you hadn’t been expecting to notice.
Ari lets out a rumbling moan as you sink down onto him, his hands instinctively finding your hips as he helps you through the motions of grinding down on his dick.
“Work it pretty girl, yeah, just like that. Use me, use this fat cock, it’s all yours.” Once you have worked up a rhythm Ari removes his hands from your sides, appreciating the sight of your pussy swallowing his shaft whole, before his itching fingers caress your breasts, rolling your nipples into stiffened peaks. “You’re so beautiful riding me like this. Look at these tits, they’re fucking perfect.”
“Oh God, I’m close, Ari.”
“Me too, Sunshine.” You barely hear Ari’s words as his strong arms engulf you, flipping you into his mattress. His heavy body presses you even further into the memory foam which is permanently infused with his intoxicating musky scent, trapping you so you have no choice but to take everything he’s giving you.
His long hair falls into his eyes, but it doesn’t stop him from making adoring eye contact. Did his eyes always soften when they gazed at you? Or are you only noticing it now that you are so much closer than you have ever been before?
You loved the angel he hit inside you while you were riding him, but it’s nothing compared to the mesmerising drag of his cock in this position, his hips rolling fervently into yours as his hands interlock with yours above your head and his lips suck on the sensitive skin of your neck.
The sex feels much more intimate than you were expecting when you essentially broke into his apartment to provocatively display yourself, wishing he’d be interested enough in an easy lay to give you one climax for the night. You’re not complaining though, you always did had a soft spot for Ari, and Bryce was rightfully jealous of the effortless connection you share.
“Oh fuck, Ari! Please, you're gonna make me cum!” You cry, his pistoning movements becoming more erratic as he chases both of your highs, his pelvis grinding against your clit repeatedly with each thrust.
“Cum with me, pretty girl.” Ari growls into your ear, your admission only spurring him on. The coil in the pit of your stomach winding tighter with each stroke of his tip against the spongy spot inside you that makes your legs shake uncontrollably and blinding stars burn behind your eyes. The same spot Bryce was never able to find, yet Ari sought out so easily.
Euphoria takes over you for the second time with a strained cry of his name, ecstasy shivers down your spine and out to the endings of every nerve in your body. You feel like you’re floating on a cloud of pure bliss as Ari captures your moans in an ardent kiss.
Your soft walls squeeze him deliciously and contrast to the sharp sting of your nails raking down his back. It’s enough to push him over the edge with you.
“Holy shit, I’m cumming!” Ari announces before a deep, husky grunt rumbles from his chest. The muscles in his abdomen tense as he spills his large load deep inside you with a drawn out groan.
When Ari finally pulls out, he takes a moment to appreciate the sight of your mixed releases dripping from your core, before he dashes into his bathroom to fetch a warm, damp cloth to clean you up. You flinch at the sensation, your body oversensitive after the two mind blowing orgasms he pulled from you, but your heart soars at the thought in his gesture.
Once he’s done, Ari’s sweaty form lays down beside you, pulling you into him, gently kissing down your neck and over your shoulder. A shiver runs down your spine at how much tenderness each small kiss is filled with.
“You know, I’ve kinda had a thing for you ever since Bryce introduced us, but I’ve never been that guy who makes a move on someone else’s girl.” You flip over so you’re looking at him, his eyes search yours for a sign that he is more than a convenient one night stand and this meant more than just getting revenge on his dickhead roommate.
“Well, I’m no longer Bryce’s girl…” You point out, which is met with a smile.
“No, you’re mine now.”
* * *
Before going another round, one where Ari vows to finally taste you, you suggest grabbing some bottled water to keep hydrated. You’ll need to replenish your fluids if he plans on having his way with you the entire night and into the morning.
When you open the bedroom door, you see a familiar figure lounging on the couch.
“Oh, hey Bryce.” You say nonchalantly, feigning ignorance that you knew he lived here, though it is a welcome surprise to see him home so early from the party where he would have heard every sinful detail of your genuine climax with Ari minutes before, something he had never experienced in your four months together.
He simply stares at you, mouth agape and eyes wide in disbelief as you casually walk over to the kitchen au naturel. You make sure to sway your hips seductively as you return to Ari’s bedroom, giving him a view of exactly what he’s missing out on.
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lechemoon · 2 years ago
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the one where spencer reid doesn't want to be just your friend
spencer reid x f reader
wc: ~1.8k
prompt: "i don't want to be your friend. i want to fall in love with you."
no warnings apply, however if i miss any please let me know :) additionally, if someone is able to identify the prompt list that the prompt is from, i would appreciate it! i can't seem to find the list </3
a/n: still on my slow rewatch, i haven't finished season 5 but i know for a fact that long-haired jesus reid is coming to an end, so this fic is for him specifically hehe
-
spencer shuts his mouth immediately, and regrets ever having the ability to even speak at all. the way you’re looking at him makes him want to curl up into himself.
“that was rude. all i asked was if you wanted to grab lunch.” you stuff your phone in your pocket aggressively, about facing the opposite direction from him. 
“wait, wait, wait.” he grabs you by the crook of your elbow, slightly yanking to keep you from walking away from him but not so much that you tip over and lose your balance. it’s now or never, and spencer will be damned if he lets you walk away without even trying to make you understand what he’s been trying to tell you.
you groan, and he hates that he can hear the frustration and confusion emitting from you. hates it because he knows how it feels- he’s been feeling it for months. along with this gnawing feeling in his stomach and a clawing feeling in his chest and an ache in his heart (but he’ll ignore that for now- he’s got things to do and words to say).
you move your free hand to run it through the top of your head, brushing any stray hairs from your face. you let out a quick breath from your mouth, and turn your head towards spencer. you make your body so that it’s still mostly facing away from him slightly. “what? you’re gonna explain why you’re suddenly just changing it up on me? being rude to me out of nowhere? if we can’t be friends right now then i don’t think there’s a reason for us to talk outside of work-“
“i don’t-!” he clears his throat because he doesn’t mean to raise his voice in the middle of the work day. his eyes scan the room quickly, and he finds himself thankful that most of the floor has gone out for lunch. those that are here still seem to have either not heard him or are choosing to ignore his outburst. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to shout… can we- can we talk somewhere more private?”
when you don’t show any signs of saying yes, he pulls out the big guns. releasing your arm, he takes hold of your hand instead. gently, unsure. his bottom lip juts out only slightly, just enough that he knows he’s sure you’ve seen it. and he’s sure, because your eyes land on his lips for a second. “please?”
“ugh, fine.” you shake your hand from his. “there’s no one in penelope’s office,” you say as you begin to walk in the direction of your coworker's office. you don’t bother looking back at spencer until your hand finds the door handle. “why are you still sitting? come on! i don’t have all day and i have to grab a snack after this.”
grabbing his bag and getting up from his chair, spencer makes his way (clumsily) to follow you out the door. “i can explain myself,” he says to your back while you both trek your way to penelope’s office.
he practically hears your eyes roll when you respond with, “i’m sure you can.” you turn left because you accidentally lead the both of you the wrong way, so now you’re taking the scenic route.
“i think we took the-“
“i know,” you cut him off, finally reaching penelope’s door. you open it and aren’t surprised you find it unlocked. neither of you are surprised to find that all the computer screens are locked as well. she wouldn’t be penelope if she didn’t secure her babies.
“okay, we have a few minutes before penelope enters her lair.” you turn to him, hands on your hips and tapping your foot impatiently. “well?”
it’s spencer’s turn to brush his fingers through his hair. he knew what he wanted to say before this- had a whole 20 second speech prepared that ended with a small lie of him not actually being hungry. why couldn’t he think of it now? 
i’m sorry. I’m not hungry right now so i didn’t want to get sandwiches with you.
i didn’t mean to tell you to leave me alone like that, or use that tone of voice. or to call you nosey.  
in fact, i don’t think i ever want you to leave me alone. i’d eat a hundred sandwiches if it meant spending lunch with you.
“spencer?”
when he takes a good look at you, he forgets everything he wanted to say. “u-uhm,” he bites his lower lip. “i-i’m sorry, i usually… i usually don’t forget what i want to say.” not a lie, not a truth. he has fragments of what he wants to say dangling in his brain, but no way to string them all together.
you smack your lips and cross your arms. “reid, really? you tell me to leave you alone, then you tell me to talk privately- why are you pulling my leg?”
it hits him when he remembers you saying if we cant be friends-
“i don’t want to be your friend,” he tells you directly, looking into your eyes. it takes everything in him not to break eye contact. it gets harder to not look away when you’re staring right back at him with eyes expectant. waiting. almost impatient looking.
and they change slightly. now he sees hurt, worry, sadness. your foot stops tapping. “you… you don’t want to be… friends?” you cross your arms, and spencer knows you’re getting defensive and closed-off. you’re getting ready to leave the room. 
but his hands find your upper arms and slides down them, releasing you from your knot and landing at your wrist. he turns them upward, and rubs his thumbs against them in small circles. “i-i don’t want to be just your friend,” he says again, but with more intention.
now he sees something new in you- confusion, curiosity. “just my friend?”
“not just your friend,” he repeats. “I feel like… no. i think i-i want to… to fall in love with you,” he says finally, and his face feels hot and his throat feels dry. 
shit, he thinks, that’s not what i was going to say. i didn’t mean to say love! like would have sufficed just fine!
what he should have said was that he liked you more than he would any other person, that you made him feel like he was floating or that he was flying.
spencer feels his stomach drop when you don’t respond to him right away, and he lets his hands begin to fall from your wrist. “that came out wr-“
but you grab his hands into your own before physical contact can even break. “you what?” 
“i mean- i did want to be your friend, i do want to be your friend it’s just that i,” he doesn’t know where his sentence is leading but he knows that he wants you to know that wanting to be with you wasn’t his intention at first. “i think… i think you’re great. you’re smart and you’re pretty, and sometimes i notice that you match your socks to your blouse- why are you looking at me like that?”
you're biting your bottom lip to hold back your smile, but the sparkle in your eyes and the crinkle at the corners give you away. you’re happy- nervous, but happy. at least, that’s what spencer speculates when he takes a look at you. 
“i feel like i should be mad at you,” you admit, letting go of his hands so that you can rub yours together. penelope’s cave is cold. “liking someone isn’t an excuse to snap at them the way you did to me earlier.”
“i know, and i’m so sorry-“
you cut him off again. “let me finish.” and his lips shut.
not knowing what to do with his now vacant hands, he stuffs them in his pockets and fingers the lint that has made its way into them. 
“do you know why i ask you out for lunch all the time?” you ask him, pointing one of your index fingers to his chest. 
spencer shakes his head. “because you… like the company and camaraderie?”
“i like your company,” the finger against his chest pushes in slightly, and you take a step back so you don’t have to continue to crane your neck at a weird angle to look up at him. “i like you.”
a confession, spencer thinks to himself, wasn’t on his list of things he expected to happen today. “me?” in attempts to keep a grin from forming, he purses his lips together. it doesn’t help, because now he’s grinning with his teeth in full display.
he tilts his head to the side in disbelief. “r-really?”
“yes, really!” a new third party squeals excitedly from behind. 
both you and spencer bring your attention towards the door. spencer shouldn’t be surprised to find penelope in her own doorway, but he is. and so it seems are you. 
penelope dances in, doing a happy little shake as she prances past the two of you to set her things and then herself down. neither of your eyes leave her as she settles herself in. spencer feels like his eyes are as wide as they can possibly be and he wonders if you’re feeling the same way, because when he looks at you he thinks that he’s sporting the same look of a deer caught in the headlights.
no one says anything. only the sound of a pastry being released from it’s parchment prison by penelope fills the room until you finally say, “how long have you been standing there?”
the tech beauty of the team rips a piece of her danish to pop it in her mouth and chews on it for a few seconds, exhaling happily when the taste finally hits her tongue. she swallows before she give you her answer. “i’ve been here since…,” she checks her naked wrist as if she were checking the time, and then looks up to smirk at spencer, “since the boy genius said he wanted to- what was it again, dr. reid?”
taken aback by being thrown into the conversation so suddenly, spencer stumbles on his words. “u-uhm, i uh, i said i-”
“ah that’s right,” penelope smiles, setting her pastry down and dusting her hands off. “you said you would like to fall in love with our dear friend here?” she points to you and winks. 
if spencer’s eyes could get any wider and if his face could find a darker shade of pink he knows they would. 
“so,” penelope crosses her legs and leans back in her chair. her eyes haven’t left you, and spencer is thankful that he doesn’t have to face the intensity he sees in penelope. “i see your dream’s coming true, love bug,” she says to you, and spencer sees you bite your thumbnail to try and hide your smile. 
you finally look at spencer, and he feels his stomach flutter. “i really, really like you spencer,” you say to him to finish off your interrupted conversation.
“oh yeah,” penelope adds, nodding excitedly, “she really does, doctor.”
-
a/n: thank you for reading <3
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sha-n-dowbannedlol · 7 days ago
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Jotaro Kujo — Never Had
you were the best i never had, the only chance i wish i had to take
an: ugh the oscar isaac brainrot is brainrotting
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God, how long has it been since he last saw you?
It must've been decades now.
So many questions ran in his mind, a cascade of curiosity and longing. How have you been? Have you been well? Were you married? Kids? Have the years been kind to you? Has life granted you the serenity you deserve?
But when you approached him with that sweet smile of yours, the sparkle in your eyes mirroring the laughter of youth long past, a small shy smile as if you thought he doesn't remember you...
What a funny thought. As if he'd ever forget you.
As if he could ever erase the indelible mark you left upon his mind, his heart...
50 days.
He spent less than fifty days with you, yet that was all it took for his heart to become a canvas painted with the indelible strokes of your presence, of your memory.
"I'm glad to finally see you awake," You spoke, giving him a small relieved smile.
All it took was the sound of your voice, the sight of your smile, and suddenly, he was seventeen again.
The heat of the desert, the ache in his muscles, Polnareff's jests, Kakyoin's antics, Avdol's nagging, Joseph's pranks—each moment etched in his mind like a cherished painting.
The dingy hotel room, sitting next to Kakyoin as he admitted his feelings to the teen who highly encouraged him.
But he was a kid back then. A kid burdened by the weight of his thoughts and unable to fathom the complexities of love.
It just wasn't the right time.
Suddenly, he's in the airport in Cairo, watching you walk away, to return to your home country. His heart heavy with unspoken words and unexpressed emotions, he watched you vanish into the crowd, carrying his unspoken feelings with you, forever sealed within the chambers of his heart.
A love that never found its voice.
And now, God... he would've loved to stay. Loved to catch up, especially in light of the absence of a ring adorning your finger.
But he had much more important matters.
"I'm sorry, I need to go," Was his response, laden with a sense of urgency, and he watched the way your brows furrow even more in concern.
"What's the rush?" You ask, laced with genuine worry and a subtle plea for him to stay. He doesn't blame you, he'd been out of it for a while.
"I need to—" A momentary pause hung in the air,  his gaze locking with yours, a flicker of conflict dancing in his ocean-blue eyes; he felt like he was betraying you as he spoke, "I need to get to my daughter."
It's not the right time.
That thought flashed in his mind again, swiftly followed by another.
Will it ever be the right time?
He caught the subtle widening of your eyes, a flicker of surprise on your gaze at his words. Your lips hesitated, parting, on the verge of responding, only to retreat into a thoughtful silence moments later. The weight of your unspoken thoughts hung in the air, a pregnant pause that lingered for a beat before you finally broke the silence with your response.
"Is she in trouble?" Your voice carried a note of concern, your brows knitting together in a display of genuine worry. He always thought you were far too nice for your own good—too caring, too helpful, sticking your nose where it doesn't belong.
But then again, he couldn't find it in himself to be mad—can't fault you for it, as it was that quality of yours that led you to him, that led him to love you.
"No," He replied instinctively, the words slipping out before he could reel them back in, knowing that you would undoubtedly offer to lend a hand if he were to tell you the truth, and he can't.
He couldn't risk putting you in harm's way again. Couldn't bear the thought of dragging you into danger once more because of his cursed bloodline.
"Jotaro-" You begin, but he cuts you off with a shake of his head before you can finish your sentence.
"No." He spoke once more, his voice firm this time. Shaking his head still. "I can handle it."
Another pregnant pause stretched out between the two of you, a palpable tension hanging in the air. Your eyes brimmed with concern and worry, while he was certain that his own gaze betrayed a whirlwind of unspoken affection resurfacing to the forefront of his mind as he found himself reunited with you.
"I.. need to go." Jotaro decided to break the silence, and if you hadn't known him for so long, you would've missed the way his voice sounded breathy. Yet, you choose not to mention it.
"...Alright," You sigh defeatedly, "Don't let me keep you."
You try your best to give him a small smile, one of reassurance. In response, he simply nodded, a familiar gesture reminiscent of your teenage years when he would try to look cool in front of you—not that he'll ever tell you that.
"I'll come back." Jotaro found his lips moving when it should be his feet starting to walk away from here. "I'll come back here, for you."
Jotaro found himself teetering on the edge of a decision, a fleeting impulse urging him to lean in, to reach out and cup your face in his hand, to bridge the distance between you and savor the warmth of your lips against his own, yet, he held himself back.
It's not the right time.
"Okay.. I'll wait for you."
But maybe, just maybe... after he finally gets rid of the lingering thorn of his cursed bloodline, after he ensures the safety of his daughter, after he finishes the fight with this priest...
Maybe it'll finally be the right time.
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murrpa · 2 months ago
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heart wrecking angst⇩
In Deadpool 4, Logan discovers his presence in Wades universe messes up cycle of events and if he continues to live in it— the universe can collapse (butterfly effect kind of thing), so in the end of the movie B-15 and minute men show up dramatically a they do at Wades apartment, and escort Logan back into the headquarters planning to send him back to his “home”. Both Logan and Wade see the scale of this, and Wade soon is taken to talk to him one last time before never seeing him again since B-15 felt generous that day. So she give them this moment.
Wade scoffs: So now is the time? Hah, I should’ve known, TVA has every event written down to nanoseconds… I swear, it puts someone’s strict mother’s skill to plan the whole year in advance and never let her kid see the light of day without her permission at shame!
All that while Logan looks at him. Though he has so much to say, to confess, but decides not to do it, maybe because it’ll hurt letting him go more than it already is.
Wade approaches him: I… ugh, was not prepared, otherwise I would’ve pulled out my 100 page essay and read it to you in British accent as you walk further away from me into the sunset.
Logan: Wade?
Wade: Yeah?
Logan struggles. What is there to say now? His heart is aching, and cracks with each passing second there’s left. He wanted to say his life was at its fullest by Wade’s side, how he’s now changed man, all because of him. For him. That he will continue being that person in his world simply because Wade will be proud.
Logan: I might have my own place, my house and whatnot… But I never dared to call it my home, y’know?
Wade listens, no longer daring to quip a sound. And hazel eyes of Logan glisten in nothing but sadness. If that emotion could be painted— it would be him. Right now.
Logan: I wish the world was on my side, fair to me, to us, Wade.
His voice shakes. And he no longer cares to control the tear that soon oozes out the corner of an eye, to his hope, telling at least a tenth of all what his heart wants to say. Then it finally hits merc. Is this really it?
Wade: Peanut, I promise, it’s okay.
No. It fucking hurts. Wade never hated to say goodbye so damn much like now, but understands, that to love someone is letting them go.
He’s only doing it for Logan, for his universe. Sure there’s something that’s waiting for him, something better than this. Which what Logan deserves, after non consensual involvement in Wade’s goal to save his own world. After what he had been through.
Logan softly sobs: It shouldn’t be, I wish I had a choice. Because coming back is long time off my list.
Wade realizes his emotions reveal, a hot heavy tear drops off his chin, and fake but bitter smile grows to comfort Wolverine. Ignoring everything what’s falling into pieces in his chest.
Wade: I just… I just never want you to get into dangerous shit cause of me. I want you to be okay.
But Logan doesn’t care, even if his old life promises to be as peaceful as Swedish government. In the end, being next to Wade— suddenly makes chaos worth it.
Logan: I was okay, Wade, I was… so happy— but as soon as my foot steps through the teleporter…
Logan breaks as more tears rush down his face. His gaze locked with Wade’s.
Logan: … I will comeback being the same pitty guy you picked up at the bar.
But Wade protests.
Wade: No, nope, you’ll comeback better than ever.
He gives up smiling, then reaching out for the man, locking him in the most loving hug, arms wrapping waist, one digging fingertips into the shirt, and second one cards Logan’s hair. Which makes older man hate himself for not hugging Wade often before, when they were so happy, and lived under one roof not knowing this day would come.
Wade: You are, and always will be the best wolverine.
Logan hides his face in Wade’s neck, ashamed someone might see him, how destroyed he is with pain of leaving him, forever.
Wade: Thank you infinitely, for staying, saving my world.
Wade’s hushed voice sends chills, and throat begins to burn, yearning to say one last thing as he hears footsteps approaching.
Logan: Thank you for becoming mine.
(lmk if you’re interested in me writing full fic based off of this💛❤️)
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amarmoria · 4 months ago
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Thinking about an alternative ending (or this thing that kept repeating in my head) with @rebelscums! Qimir x Padawan!Reader🤭 (I luv your Qimir fics sm please don't die)
Like the part where Sol's saber was already slowly burning dove's neck and Qimir says he didn't care about you and your screaming because of the searing heat that's going through the layers of tissue and because your master cares more about Mae than he ever will you, so your like all I'm giving up and let me die status, there's fat crocodile tears sliding down your cheeks and you can't stop it, not when you you've mastered this already, but it's like the feeling of your mother having another child she prefers over you but this is like your master, the one making your pussy aching, and like your depressed that your going to die and the last thing you see is your master monster cock bae with his fav acolyte (not like you ever were✋)
Then (imagine there's still a few jedi's left from Sol's crew, zaddy will kill them anyways) Sol's small backup comes to ambush Qimir and to Sol's advantage too because he now has the chance to grab you and bring you to their ship instead of killing you, half of what he said not long ago was true, that you can be a great jedi if you wanted to.
"Master.."
"It's alright, we're almost, almost there" Sol huffs, holding your arm tightly over his shoulder and his other hand on your waist, you eye the lightsaber on his belt, it's so, so close, just a little more.
"Eyes forward, find our ship."
"I ca— can't, it's," you pause, not having the strength to finish the sentence. "I'm sorry, for, for earlier I— I didn't want to—"
"It's fine, just.." you hiss, clutching the side of your abdomen where the pain continued throbbing, it doesn't even help that you also have a burn on your neck.
"You're gonna be okay, keep your eyes open, breathe for me alright?" You couldn't hear what he was saying anymore, not when the ringing of your ears started blending every sound that nears you, maybe it was the pain, or the after burn, but all you could think about was how your master, no no, Qimir was looking at Mae despite the choking— in fact he couldn't look at you like that when he doesn't even choke you like that (ykyk?)
Ugh your heart can't take that kinda rejection, it's way too much.
"Padawan!"
Your thoughts were snapped when Sol lightly slapped your cheeks, your legs began working again and limped beside him as the both of you course through the thick forest.
"Can you feel him? Where is he?" He heaves, readjusting you so that you won't slide down. "He.. I, he's not—"
A force separates you from Sol, his back pivots to a large tree while you gracefully slide down a small hill full of bushes, one of which the leaves poking through your burn making you hiss and cover it with your hand but then you realize it burns even more with the soil and dirt stuck on your palms.
You kept fighting your eyes from closing, not now, not when you don't know what your escape plan is, not when your big juicy bae is there (you don't know that yet), you groaned and gave yourself a violent slap, maybe it's force that wants to keep you awake, ready, on guard.
You hear leaves crunching from behind you, but you can't bring yourself to turn, no matter how much your foot tries to turn you over, your body's just exhausted, tired, aching, you want to go home.
Home
Where is home now when your master has already decided to disown you, where will you go, stay. The buzzing of a lightsaber nears behind you, threatening, red, and hot. Only when you hear tackling behind you then your body opt to turn over, you whine when your side hit the floor again, clutching your sides tightly like it's going to fall out.
You witness the two sabers, green and red, clashing against each other, ironic little detail because I once thought green and red crayons were enemies, ANYWAYS, Qimir kept his face bare, no mask this time, you snort, if you even can, his karma for doing you bad like that. You could feel yourself getting lost at the distant lights dancing around each other, you couldn't hear them clearly, only muffled grunts was all you can process.
"She's not leaving—"
"You've abandoned her right in front of her eyes, don't even think for a second that she'll come back to you," Sol pauses, overthrowing the red but Qimir quickly regains his stance, separating the one saber into two.
"I'm her last hope, she has no one to teach her anything other than me"
"You're wrong—"
"Oh like you'll take her in and turn her into some jedi?" His laugh sounded almost manic, before aiming for Sol's neck although Sol acted fast and dodged, blocking the attack just in time, if he was only a second late, we would've had a rolling head coming right at you.
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Ugh idk how to even end this🙄
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lemonsprite · 3 months ago
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Hello can I ask for BG3 Halsin x reader?
Usually people depict the reader as ageless but I was wondering if you can do anything with a reader that's also up in their 300s? They could probably relate on many thing that come with a long lifespan and stuff
Thanks and have a nice day (I know this is like probably brainless time from me but the summer heat is getting me my brain left me)
Thank you guys for all the Halsin ideas I luv my bear husband TT
𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 || 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐆𝐍! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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Summary: Halsin can’t remember the last time he’s met someone like you
Word Count:
Warnings: NOT BETA READ!!! nothing!! Just pure silliness
A/N: I had SUCH bad writers block with this one so I apologize if it’s actual doodoo TT but I love writing the bg3 party dynamic sm ugh
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Halsin was used to being a pile of dust when compared to all his friends and companions. Despite only being in the middle stages of his life for an elf, he’d lived much longer than those around him.
Part of that knowledge made his heart ache in a weird bittersweet mixture of emotions. Living as long as he did caused him to see the rise of fall of friends and lovers and there was nothing he could do about it. It seemed like a cycle he was doomed too, one that would unfold the same as always.
Halsin knew almost no elves the same absurdly old age as him.
“Karlach I don’t think the camp really needs another cantaloue… we haven’t even finished the other two Wyll bought three days ago…” chided Halsin, placing a hand on top of Karlach’s and slowly guiding the round fruit in her hands back into the market stall.
“Yeah but mate, what’s gonna happen when shadowheart gets her midnight cravings and eats both cantaloupes in one night?” Pouted Karlach, gripping tightly to the fruit. “What will I eat then…? If you think about it… this purchase is just a tactical strategy…”
Halsin gave her a look, one he was all too familiar with when dealing with those much younger and less wise than him.
Karlach sighed and dropped the cantaloupe, making her way to another stall that sold hand made yarn woven weapon sheaths. (Not the best in terms of practicality but very aesthetically pleasing)
“Do you have this in a size Large?” Asked a voice and before Halsin could catch himself, he found his gaze landing on the stranger beside him. Also an elf from what he could tell with their pointed ears.
“The smithy by the Rivington general store sells the same armour for a cheaper price.” Suggested Halsin, moving slightly closer to the new bystander.
“I could…” he coughed, clearing his throat. “Show you the way if you need?”
Halsin had no idea what he was doing. One second, the elf was scolding Karlach and the next he was flirting with a complete stranger. Something in your eyes, the way you held yourself made him want to know you better, hear you speak his name.
“That would be nice…” you smiled, politely putting the not purchased armour back on the market stand and turning to Halsin.
A large crash resounded behind Halsin and he whipped around to find Karlach standing above a pile of shattered porcelain. Like a large dog unaware of how big she was.
“Hey you gotta pay for that!” Angrily shouted the storekeeper as he looked incredulously from Karlach to the shattered pottery.
“That one yours?” You asked, nodding your head in the direction of the destructive tiefling.
Halsin nodded, watching as Karlach tearfully handed over the little money she had.
“I’ve got nine of them back at camp.” He said wistfully, thinking back to the ruckus and chaos of camp.
“I’ve been on my own for awhile now…” you hummed, walking with Halsin as he began to lead you to the nearby smithy, Karlach jogging to reach up with the two of you.
“I’m Halsin.” He smiled. “And this is my friend Karlach.”
“Oh I know you! I spent a century with the emerald enclave, they spoke very highly of you.” You grinned, stuffing your hands in the pockets of your tunic as you walked.
Karlach smiled brightly, nodding her head eagerly. “You should see when he wildshapes! The bear is quite cute.”
“You were apart of the emerald enclave?” Halsin asked, pleasantly bemused as the city surroundings grew less and less frequent and more bursting countryside surrounded him.
“Not apart.” You explained, giving Halsin a sheepish smile. “Just lived with them a good while, even during that big battle with Ketheric Thorm back in the day, helped as much as I could.”
“I can’t remember the last time I’d met an elf who can recall such a time.” Halsin smiled gently. “Say… would you like to join us for dinner at our camp?”
Karlach gave Halsin a knowing smirk.
“That sounds amazing.” You grinned. “I’d love too.”
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Despite the scene of utter chaos unfolding around him, Halsin couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes from your thoughtful gaze.
Shadowheart and Lae’zel were currently arm wrestling for dominance while Gale fought back Astarion, telling him dinner wasn’t quite ready yet.
Halsin had brought you to a quite hill nearby, overlooking all the drama as you two had a quite chat.
“Can’t remember the last time I had a dinner like this.” You quipped, causing the grass to rustle as you leaned back.
“Would you… want to stay…?” Halsin asked shyly, weirdly awkward for a man of his calibre. He hadn’t felt like this in a long time, his usual confident and wise facade slowly melting. You made him feel like a dumb kid again, and he couldn’t get enough of it.
“It would be nice to have someone older with a little more wisdom join the party… I don’t think me and Jaeheria can last another day…” he added with a soft laugh, joining you in the grass.
“Jaeheria’s here?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. “I haven’t seen her in two hundred years.”
“You should stay.” He urged. “I also… just really want to know you better.”
Halsin gently placed his hand on top of yours in the grass, giving you enough time to pull away if you need.
“Yeah… yeah I’d like that.” You smiled, running your thumb over his knuckles and lifting your face to meet his rich hazel gaze.
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iadoreoldermen · 1 year ago
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Day 1: Shower sex
Pairing: fem!reader x Lando Norris (first person pov)
Word count: around 1.5K
TW: unprotected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it guys!), oral (m receiving), smut smut smut, fluffy Lando at the end, slight angst if you squint.
A/N: literally something I would love to experience, hope you enjoy it! MDNI
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Third place again. It felt like the whole world was trying to rip my heart into tiny pieces. Looking up at Lando I could see the smile on his face, but I knew it wasn't a real one. He took off in such a great place and now this.
I made my way back to the garage as fast as I could to ask where he was. Passing Oscar I could see defeat in his eyes so I hugged him tight, feeling him relax a bit. After the hugging I patted his back in sympathy and made a beeline towards Lando's driver's room.
Knocking on the door I spoke. "Lan, are you in there?" Before I could say anything else, the door was pulled open by him, facing me with glazed eyes. I gently pushed him in so we could fully be in his room. I grabbed his hand and led him to the couch and he sat down immediately.
"Baby you did amazing, why do I see tears in your eyes?" I asked concerned.
"I could've, no, I should've done better, I don't get how I cannot get a win at all." He sniffled and as I was still standing I pulled him close so his head was resting against my tummy.
Patting his hair gently I whispered "Your time will come Lan, you did your best, we both know that."
"Yes but still, I just-I don't-ugh I just don't know what else to do, I mean, I know the strategy isn't the best but still." He trailed off, I knew it was time to head back to our hotel.
"How 'bout we go back to our room, shower, eat, rest and you can tell me all about it?" I suggest and I feel his head tilting up, looking at me.
He whispers "That sounds good" and stands up to hug me properly.
The ride back to our hotel went by fast, Lando driving with his hand resting on my knee and I felt him relax a bit. Making our way up some stairs we finally made it and after fumbling with the key for long enough we were inside.
"Alrighty, set some comfy clothes out for us while I start the shower please darling." I said as I moved around in the bedroom to find our towels.
"Okay hun" he said with that gorgeous accent of his.
The shower was ready and I ushered him in the bathroom in only my underwear. "Tell me if you're done okay?"
"Would you please shower with me?" He looked at me with the biggest eyes known to mankind.
"Of course, give me just one second." I said whilst stripping. "Alright, let's get you cleaned."
Washing each other off I could feel him staring at me but I payed no mind, he was tired after all. I got behind him and massaged through his thick muscles and heard him groan in painful pleasure. After I've done that I got back to work on ridding him from the champagne leftover from his abs and he leaned his head on my shoulder. I felt him gasp in my neck so I asked him "What is it baby?"
"Need you." He nearly whimpered.
"How do you need me?"
"I need your mouth..please." He murmured and looked down at me as I got on my knees in front of him. Stroking his thighs I could finally taste his sweet cock, licking him softly and he tangled his hand in my hair, not to control me, just to have something to ground himself. Grabbing his cock I take his tip in my mouth and the whiny moan he let's out tells me I'm doing a good job. I take a big breath through my nose and take him down my throat. The response I get is one of the most beautiful moans I've ever heard. So beautiful, I have to sneak the hand that's not holding the base of his cock to rub my aching pussy to get some relief.
"Oh baby you must be drippin' -fuck- you're so good to me" He coos and damn yeah, my arousal leaks down my thighs. "I'm not gonna last long, I'm -fuck- so-sorry ngh" Oh my god, he's trying to kill me, I feel my end approach too, I could cum just by the sounds he makes. In a matter of seconds I can feel his thrusts halt and eventually stop as his cum leaks down my throat while I try my hardest to swallow all of it. Looking up at him we make eye contact and I moan around his lenght, but just as I feel a euphoric wave wash through me, he grabs my arms and swaps places with me, getting on his knees in front of me. Just as I'm about to ask him why he stopped me, he lifts one of my legs to hook over his shoulder and licks a broad stripe along my wet, awaiting cunt, making my knees buckle.
"Fuck- oh my god Lan!" I moan in pleasure and I can still feel him panting against me but that's the last thing on my mind. It's embarassing how close I got from only this much stimulation. "I'm close, Lan- yes!" With the way he thrusted two fingers inside me while licking at my clit I cum on his face so hard, I see stars. I tug at hsi curls a little harsher than I intented and when I feel like it's too much. He groans but kisses his way up my body until he reaches my mouth and kisses me like I'm his last source of oxygen. When he finally pulls away I giggle and he lifts his head to look at me and started laughing as well.
"Hello you" I said with a huge grin on my face as he scrunched his nose up.
"Hi babe" He said while nuzzling my neck. "May I still fuck you please?" How could I possibly say no when he asked so nicely.
"Go ahead, you don't even need to ask baby boy." I said while running my hands up his back delicately. I reach his hair and I have to grab his shoulders quickly because he raises my leg and thrusts up into me deeply. I feel my knees buckle and thank god he's holding me close or else I would've fallen. My eyes roll back to the back of my head as he strokes my warm walls in the most perfect way.
"Shit..You like that huh?" I can barely hear him say because he's continously hitting my g-spot. "Talk to me baby, d'ya like it?" He whines in my ear and I clench around him, Iknow he feels it because his grip on my thigh tightens.
"I-yes, yes I like it-fuck" I manage to answer as he speeds up his thrusts and I feel myself getting close again as I rock my hips against his and he groans, no growls out my name and that alone brings me close to the edge and I feel him getting closer too. I feel his hand cupping one of my breasts and in the blink of an eye he's sucking my nipple into his mouth, I suppose to gain some composure, like he always does when he doesn't want me to see him in this state, so I slowly lift his face. He looks up at me with his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, an almost invisible string of spit connecting my nipple and his mouth. I drag his face further up to kiss me and I moan into his mouth as I get pushed over the edge. The kiss is nothing short of messy. Tounge and teeth.
I slowly come back from my mind numbing orgasm and he's moaning into my mouth as he sucks my tounge and with a last couple of thrusts his hips stutter and he spills into me. We pull back from the kiss and he drops my forehead against mine as he slowly calms down but still pants against my face.
We stay like that for a couple minitues until he pulls out of me with a hiss, making sure I'm okay before washing me down. I return the favor and wash his face and and chest and arms. I notice after a while that he's just looking at me. I look at him and see him have the biggest smile on his face and he giggles a little.
"What's got you smiling like that hm?" I ask.
"I adore you, you're all I ever needed, I can't think of anything else but how beautiful you are. I don't even care about the race anymore just..you" he nearly chokes on his words, still grinning like an idiot.
An idiot in love.
I grab his face and look him deeply in his eyes. I'm smiling now too, tears running down my face.
"Oh Lan...I love you so much." I pull him close and kiss him briefly before pulling him into the tightest hug ever, because that's what he deserves.
Love..
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A/N: Hope you liked it! I'm still a little new to writing so feedback and critisism is welcomed! ❤
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agaypanic · 7 months ago
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I saw that you are writing about Roderick Heffley.
Can I make a request about Rodrick Heffley/reader (punk grunge girl)?
The reader has been friends with Rodrick for a year, she has her own band and she often hangs out with Rodrick.The reader writes songs for the band and when I realized that I fell in love with Rodrick, I wrote an entire album in his honor.(but since the reader replaced male pronouns with female pronouns in the songs, Rodrik did not understand about falling in love.)
You can make an awkward but sweet confession at the end.(like Roderick only got it when his friend told him directly about it, or when the reader was leaving town...)
I apologize if this is too specific and detailed. And I also ask you to forgive me if something is unclear, English is not my native language.
My Muse (Rodrick Heffley X Songwriter!Reader)
Masterlist
Request Something!
Summary: Inspiration for new songs strike you when you realize you’ve fallen in love with your friend Rodrick Heffley. But when you get the guts to play him a song as a way of confessing and he doesn’t understand, you figure it’s a lost cause.
A/N: reader is more of a pop-punk artist, and she wrote the only exception by paramore bc i said so. Idk much about instruments/terminology and also writing a character singing feels so awkward to me so sorry if it’s bad. Reader’s band is named after the one in metal lords (such a good movie ugh)
***
You and Rodrick had been friends for years, bonding over a shared love of music. As the two of you got older, you ventured into this interest by forming your own bands. Rodrick’s band, Löded Diper, was more rock, while yours, SkullFlower, followed more of a pop-punk genre. But that didn’t stop you and Rodrick from jamming and writing together during your free time.
With all the time you spend with Rodrick, you soon realized that your feelings for him grew beyond platonic, as cliche as it sounded. You obviously didn’t want to say anything and risk ruining what you had with him.
But you couldn’t help but have hope that Rodrick returned your feelings. No matter how many crushes he had, how distracted he became with his band’s latest business venture, or how often he got grounded to the point of not being allowed to leave the house for anything besides school, he always found his way to you. Sure, your heart ached a bit to see him so hung up over a girl who wouldn’t give him the time of day. But it was always made better when he’d sneak through your window just to sit with you when he should’ve been at home.
You didn’t want to bottle up your feelings forever, so you decided to write it all down in the form of lyrics. What started as a verse and half of a chorus soon became a complete song. And then one song turned into a handful. When you showed your bandmates, they immediately wanted to get to work on the instrumentals.
After a few long rehearsals and some convincing from the rest of the band, you decided to let Rodrick hear what you had been working on—half for his opinion and half as a love confession to your best friend.
“So…” As you walked to class with Rodrick, you kept having to tell yourself not to feel so anxious. Just think of it as just another band practice, and not you telling your best friend that you’re in love with him. “SkullFlower’s having a little rehearsal tonight. I think we’ve gotten a new song down pretty good. Did you wanna come?”
“Hell yeah!” Rodrick responded, seeming more pumped up than before you had asked. “What time were you thinking?”
“Probably around five. It’ll be at Steph’s place, since she has the best set up.”
The two of you stopped in front of your class, standing a bit to the side of the door to not block anyone’s path. 
“I’ll be there,” Rodrick said with a grin, patting your shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “See you then.” Then he turned around and left to go to his own class, leaving you to walk in alone. As you sat down in your seat, the only thing on your mind was how you hoped everything would go right tonight.
***
It was a pretty common occurrence for you and Rodrick to be at each other’s band rehearsals. So, none of your friends were surprised to see him pull up in his somewhat busted van while you tuned instruments and set up equipment. He jogged up the driveway with a grin and two slushies, one for him and one for you. Another common thing between you two was showing up with some kind of sweet treat just for the two of you.
“Hey guys!” Rodrick greeted everyone in Steph’s garage before handing you a large slushie cup filled with your favorite flavors. “Hey, rockstar.”
“Hi, Roddy.” You said, blushing at the little nickname before sipping your drink. You averted your gaze to somewhere else in the room, so you missed the slight pink on Rodrick’s cheeks from the nickname only you were allowed to use.
After a few minutes of mingling, you and the band got ready to play while Rodrick settled in a lawn chair. He sat directly in front of you, so you felt you had no choice but to look at him while fiddling with the microphone stand.
“This one took, like, a day to write,” you warned, taking a final sip of your slushie before setting it on the floor next to you. “It’s a little softer than the stuff we usually play, but I think it’s pretty good. But I wrote it, so I’m a bit biased.” 
“Everything you write is good, Y/n.” Rodrick tipped his slushie cup towards you. “Lemme hear it.”
You nodded and turned to Hailey. She started strumming on her guitar as Steph accompanied her on the keyboard. You swayed along to the music with closed eyes, internally counting down to your cue. 
Rodrick had probably heard you sing a million times, you’d probably sung more around him than you did alone. But your nerves made it feel like you were performing in front of a sold-out stadium for the first time, instead of in your friend’s practically empty garage.
“I’d never sing of love if it does not exist.” You plucked up the courage to finally look at Rodrick, who was already watching you with a smile so small you almost couldn’t see it. “But darling, you are the only exception.”
You didn’t know if it was the fear of knowing you were confessing your feelings to Rodrick or the bravery from opening your eyes and looking at him in the first place. But for the rest of the song, you and Rodrick maintained eye contact, making it feel like you were the only ones in the room. You wondered if he knew that the words were written just for him. 
As Hailey played the final chord of the song, letting it ring out, you gripped the microphone a bit nervously. At first, you thought the hard part was finally over. But then you remembered that Rodrick’s reaction was to follow.
“So… what’d you think?” Everyone eagerly awaited Rodrick’s response. Your friends knew about how deep your feelings went for him. And although they’d sometimes make fun of you for it, they were truly rooting for the two of you.
“That was awesome!” Rodrick said, throwing his arms out wide to emphasize his statement. You grinned, bouncing slightly on the balls of your feet in excitement. “Whoever you wrote that for is lucky, dude.”
And in an instant, all that excitement and hope diminished. 
“Oh.” You let out a small sigh before clearing your throat. “Oh, yeah, they are. They are lucky.” You could practically feel the pitiful stares of your bandmates. That, accompanied by Rodrick’s now slightly perplexed expression, made you feel uneasy. “Um, I’ll be right back.”
You were out in a flash, running into the house and to the bathroom to hide. Your band watched you disappear before looking back at Rodrick, whose eyes were stuck on the door you had gone through.
“Wow.” Dylan was the first to speak, looking at Rodrick with a raised brow and crossed arms. “I know you’re kinda dumb, Heffley, but this might be a new low.”
“Excuse me?” Rodrick quickly rose from his seat, looking at Dylan, offended and confused.
“Oh, come on, Rodrick. Don’t play stupid.” Hailey said as she set down her guitar. “Who do you think Y/n wrote that song about?”
Rodrick thought about the question for a moment, wracking his brain for an answer but coming up with nothing. He shrugged, hoping that one of your friends would just tell him outright what was going on.
“I’ll give you a hint,” Dylan said. “She only invited one person to this band practice, and she only wanted to play that specific song.”
The look on Rodrick’s face was starting to make your friends wonder if you were better off without him knowing about your feelings. But suddenly, he gasped in realization, looking at each of your friends for confirmation of what he was thinking. When they all nodded, relieved that he was finally starting to understand, he grabbed your slushie from the floor, muttering something about being back in a minute. 
In the bathroom, you were trying not to have a total freak out. You wondered how you could play this off. Although Rodrick wasn’t the brightest, he could be observant and stubborn when he wanted to be. He’d probably ask what was wrong, and if you could convince him that everything was fine, he would probably start asking who you wrote that love song about.
After splashing some water on your face to calm yourself down, you opened the door, only to see Rodrick standing on the other side.
“Jesus!” You jumped in surprise.
“Sorry.” Rodrick laughed nervously. “You, um, you forgot your slushie.”
“Oh, thanks.”
You fell into an awkward silence, standing in the threshold of your friend’s bathroom and slurping down your drink so you wouldn’t have to speak. Eventually, both of you were out of slushies.
“Was that song about me?” Rodrick blurted out, tilting his head in curiosity. You blinked, not expecting that to be the question he would ask. It seemed like he already knew it was.
“That depends,” you said, toying with your straw as you looked down at the ground to avoid eye contact. “Would you still like it if it was?”
Your attention was pulled from your shoes by a hand lifting your head, forcing you to look up at Rodrick. He leaned in to kiss you, just for a quick second, as if he was scared of you freaking out. But you were left in a daze as he pulled back.
“I’d like it a lot more if it was.”
Overwhelmed by what had just happened, you flung your arms around Rodrick and kissed him again. He stumbled back a step but caught you by the waist, kissing back eagerly. The world around you seemed to disappear.
“Ahem.” Slowly and reluctantly, you and Rodrick pulled away from each other to see Steph looking at you amused, Hailey and Dylan standing behind her. “Mom made us all a snack, unless you guys are too busy sucking face.”
“Oh, shut up, Steph.” You said with an embarrassed laugh. Your friends headed to the kitchen, but you and Rodrick slowly trailed behind to sneak a few more kisses to each other.
***
Rodrick Heffley Taglist: @tweedledipshit
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