#alarmingly quickly
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So like Cup’s Sep! Leo would totally be jealous of the other Leos right?
TMNT AU Competition Masterpost
Because don’t get me wrong a lot (if not all) of the other Rise Leos in the comp had it rough but DAMN many of them still joke around (even though a lot could be acting to cover trauma and shit) and smile a lot while he’s always being serious.
Now Cup recently just said her Sep Leo acted serious for a long time and didn’t start joking and being witty until he got super comfortable so he’s almost like the opposite, the antithesis (am I using that correctly?) of the Leos (at least the Rise ones). Instead of joking less as he gets more comfortable opening up to his brothers it’s the exact opposite.
Anyways, I feel like before understanding that a lot of the other Leos went through a lot of stuff, he’d be at least somewhat pissed off. Here he’s been Two, working for the Foot Clan under the influence of a memory-distorting drug and magic his entire life while some only recently got traumatized (B.E.A.S.T., DFTM, etc).
Of course I have no say on how he ACTUALLY would feel (bc I don’t control the AU duh) but least to say he’d be somewhat irritated by them, kinda a lot like the Future Leos.
I can almost imagine a scene where his older brother Raph or even heck a Future Leo like OMO talks to him about it. The large complex all the AUs are housing at are big. There’s a rooftop. Sep! Leo is sitting on the edge and looking out to the night sky like the main character Edgelord™️ he thinks he is. Earlier he had gotten an earful of the other Leos and snapped, maybe insulting one or heck even punching them. He ran away up to rooftop in defense before he could hear it from Raph. However said Raph (or maybe a Future Leo or screw it they both run into each other going up to talk to him and decide to talk to him together) comes up anyway. Eventually after some back-and-forth and arguing Sep! Leo snaps, saying that it isn’t fair. They get to be all carefree and joking and blah blah blah and he’s stuck here all fucked up by the Shredder and Kitsune.
More talking. Soon enough Sep! Leo gets it that the other versions of him didn’t have a such a great rock-and-roll life either. A lot of them are actually using said jokes to hide the self-esteem issues and the trauma. Of course it isn’t his fault that he didn’t know that, but he also shouldn’t have been so brash to assume that he was the only one who had a lot of trashy, dumpster-fire stuff happen to him. He couldn’t try to compare their trauma and say he had it better or worse. But they all definitely had it at some point.
And through that it’s what makes him realize that’s what makes them all Leos, whether they like it or not: they get shit thrown at them, and they take it. They take it, and that’s it.
In that way, the other Leos are actually the most likely to understand him, huh?
#anyways that was my take wow that was long#like I said obviously this isn’t canon to cup’s Sep au nor the competition I’m just saying character development emotional moments etc etc#man in the Masterpost I said this was going to be stuff like funny incorrect quotes and here I am IMMEDIATELY hitting y’all with Leo angst#Typical ROTTMNT fandom behavior#*creates AU for shenanigans* hey what if we also do this *traumatizes Leo*#let’s just say after Sep Leo has that talk he starts talking to the other Leos and WOW the multiverse likes to crap on them#I like to think that after he gets it in his head they all had it rough one way or another he actually starts getting along with them#like really quickly#alarmingly quickly#rottmnt#rise tmnt#tmnt crossover#au crossover#crossover au#rottmnt separated au#tmnt au competition#don’t worry guys I swear the next post will be goofy funny stuff
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you all ready for whump-december?
#It's coming up alarmingly quickly#Might be one drabble every couple days but I'm definitely gonna do it
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Fym you’re grappling with the horrors of becoming something inhuman? That’s cool as shit dude
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arthur lester is actually the funniest character ever bc he is the only one who is consistently going "there's a voice in my head telling me to STOP killing people." and then not listening to it.
#the nemesis speaks#arthur's semi-possessed by a god of madness and also escalates to murder ALARMINGLY quickly and not only are these two things not related#but the god of madness is the one trying to get him to chill. and it is failing.#one of these men tortured the other with repeated visions of a first-person murder while eating the dead guy's body#and it was NOT the one whose former entire shtick was tormenting people with madness visions#mv liveblog
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I have been trying one of those recipe box subscriptions even though I'm single and always figured it wouldn't be very efficient as one person
(I should probably have used a friend's code but i signed up pretty impulsively when a decent offer presented itself in the wild)
so far i really like it?! I feel way better about my diet when I do some actual cooking, and it turns out that, for me, not having to think too hard about what to make is a HUGE help in actually feeling up to cooking, especially on a given weeknight.
like i can browse the recipe options when I have spare time and it's...actually really fun! I love thinking about food in the abstract! and then i get stuff that i can just start cooking whenever without having to make a big plan about it. and it even makes it easier to do the rest of my grocery shopping!
also as one person so far the 2 servings have been pretty fair, so it works out to reliably have leftovers for lunch or the next night. Not enough to get sick of and not so little I feel cheated by it, basically. It seems like sometimes I might need an added veggie, but that's fine.
it's definitely not the most "cost effective" option, but i can afford it right now, so that's whatever. why else am i making money anyway? i do feel kind of bad about the extra packaging and shipping, but i can live with it
#i haven't paid full price for a box yet although they portion out the discounts oddly#my original plan was to decide if i want to bail when it hits full price but it's looking more and more likely i'll stick with it awhile#i'm also still hoping that getting back in the habit of cooking this way will make it easier to do regularly#like the dream was that i improve some cooking basics and get comfy with a better variety of recipes until i feel good quitting the box#but idk i didn't fully realize how much ''planning is hard'' was what was holding me back and not just general fatigue#i don't think i have adhd? idk. but some kinda executive dysfunction i think? but there's that post that's like pay the adhd tax up front?#it's 100% that. just pay and then enjoy#now on the other hand i am accumulating limes alarmingly quickly. can't keep up with the whole lime for quarter/half lime recipe thing
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" 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐄 "
𝐀 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐍𝐈𝐀𝐂 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 — you're his entire world, his only thought, the very illness that has corrupted his mind and body . . .
gender neutral reader / yandere oc x reader / mentions of sleep medication / pathetic yandere / suggestive content / a character slightly aimed towards people with a savior complex
masterlist | requesting rules | character info . . . a/n: edited, Lucas first fanfic is out !! . . click here to read it !! <3
He was someone with fleeting attraction—yet a hopeless romantic, who'd spend most of his class time doodling away in his notebook instead of taking actual notes, writing these scenarios that played out in his mind—tired hazy doodles of small characters, blurry lines of writing, scribbled out text, as he struggled to stay awake—
He had never had a proper sleeping schedule, and if he did he'd never stick to it, a night owl who often faced the consequences of his own actions, sleep medication was something he was all too familiar with, the feeling of being restless without sleep, his nerves always on edge, dark circles under his eyes made him feel insecure, and alarmingly out of character.
He felt something touch his back, he froze, nerves all over the place, a pit growing in his stomach as he turned almost instinctively to face whoever touched him, pushing their hand off harshly . . . "Hey Yoichi . . what's up with you man, why so aggressive?!" Lucas asked . . and then he froze, letting out a nervous and rather embarrassed chuckle, "Ah—um . . sorry Lucas . . just feeling a little tired that's all", he replied softly, voice barely coming out.
To be quite honest, when he first saw you, Yoichi thought nothing of it, he sat at the very back and you for some reason, sat in front of him, not that he minds, you're presence covered him from the teachers eyesight, which allowed him to do whatever he wanted, he was even able to drift off to sleep during that period.
However, it wasn't until he found himself, drawing tiny versions of you in his notebook, little doodles, pink ink staining the paper as he hearted your initials together—his name then your last name . . your name then his last name . . . names of future children—that he realized he was crushing on you . . . big time.
His emotions was fleeting, it had always been, he didn't think much of it . . it was just a simple crush, everyone has one of those, and they go away with time.
Yoichi was a punctual student—and a well organized one—he'd rarely forget his books, much less the notebook with his embarrassing doodles of him and you, it would ruin his image to be quite honest . . yet for some reason he had forgotten it in class today, it could've been his ever-growing restlessness due to a lack of sleep, or maybe the caffeine that's been fucking with his head since early in the morning—he sighed—knocking himself out of his own thoughts, as he twisted the doorknob, hopefully the teacher left the class unlocked.
The door was open, to his utter relieve . . . wait . . . "y/n?", he spoke, taken aback—you were soundly asleep on your desk—you looked so at . . peace . . . calm? . . . Nothing could describe the emotions he felt as he approached you, slowly reaching over to his desk and grabbing his notebook, quickly stuffing it in his backpack—he should go . . , that would be the best course of action . . .
Yet he couldn't . . . he knelt down on the floor, leaning his head on the desk, starring at your face, looking into every curve and line, in his eyes every imperfection just made you even more perfect, the pattern of your breath was soothing to his otherwise restless mind, a soothing scent radiated off of you, and for the first time in months, he felt sleepy . . . like he could sleep without a care . . . everything felt so right. . .—nothing felt displaced or disoriented.
That was the day that started it all, it seems, Yoichi had started forming something that was akin to obsession, he couldn't sleep at all without you—a piece of you—something that reminded him of that calming scent that he felt that day, you calmed his overdriven nerves, you halted his troubles for more than a fleeting moment.
Yoichi knew what he was doing was odd, especially when he found himself picking up the wrapper you threw out, and taking inhaling it, his eyes growing half lidded—he felt like a drug addict—drunk off of you . .
Fleeting touches would tick off his ever delusional mind, a small compliment could set him on overdrive and in the back of his head he knew he was growing addicted, a pit in his stomach grew as he felt slightly disgusted with himself, with the obscene and rather degrading things he'd do, just to get something touched by you.
Lucas stared at his friend, who seemed no better than dead, "Are ya' okay?" he asked, looking him up and down, "You look like a train-wreck", he stated half out of concern and half out of clear disdain and possibly curiosity, "Is it normal?", Yoichi spoke up, taking a gulp of air as he continued, "to want someone so badly that it's hard to explain—like—a part of me feels obsessed, like I feel like carving my own heart out and showing them just to prove my love wont be enough—they could claw out my fingernails—and from where I'm standing, I'd still look at them with only love . . . but at the same time I feel disgusted with the feelings I feel—", Yoichi kept blabbering on, until his friend shushed him, taking a sip of his drink as he jokingly replied, "I mean . . if you love them that much, then their clearly the one . . ."
Yoichi blanked out, as Lucas chuckled, he has no idea how much of his teasing words Yoichi would take to heart that day nor of it's lasting consequences . . .
want more, buy my limited time only advent calendar?
@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.
#yandere oc x reader#yandere x reader#yandere headcanons#yandere rambles#yandere oc#yandere x darling#yandere imagines#yandere drabble#yandere insert#yandere scenarios#yandere#yandere male#male yandere x reader#yandere boyfriend#male yandere#yandere x you#yandere x y/n#oc x reader#yan oc#yan x reader#yancore#soft yandere#x reader#oc#fanfic#fic#yandere fic#yandere male x reader#yandere fanfiction#gender neutral reader
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✮ tags ; gn! reader, established relationship, fluff, alcohol.
"Shouto,"
"Hm?"
"You're drunk,"
Your boyfriend leans his head on your shoulder and makes a noise in the back of his throat. "A bit."
More than a bit, you think. In actuality, you don't think you've ever seen him this drunk before. He's okay with alcohol, usually - but tends to stay away from drinking too much. You think the last time you saw him get actually drunk at all, you were both twenty and he was barely tipsy then.
He doesn't like getting drunk, he's told you before. A few times. The lack of control and hazy memories make him just slightly anxious, so he's careful around liquor.
You've been dating for years now, and unless he's living some double-life (a different one than being a hero) - you've never seen him get this wasted. Ever. To everyone else in your surroundings, it probably doesn't look that way.
But you've spent enough time to know him, and he's not like this usually. Nowhere near as absent minded he is now, at least. He hasn't been able to sit still since he downed that last bottle of shochu. He went to go play with Bakugou's cat, Momo and you couldn't find him afterwards. You lost sight of him for about half-an-hour until you finally found him in the living room while everyone else was outside, feeding Momo some treat that squeezes from a tube.
(You still don't know where or how he found where Bakugou kept the treats, but you decide it's better you don't ask. Plausible deniability, or something.)
You're both grown-ups, and you're not one to worry about his liquor intake. Still, though - you're worried. Even if it seems like he's not different to everyone else, you can tell. And it's bothering you.
"Shouto," You call out to him, your hands reaching to pet the back of his neck. He's a head taller than you, and a little heavy. Palms smooth against the prickly ends of his hair - tapered and neat. He presses his cheek to your shoulder. "Shouto, love."
"Oh," He says, suddenly remember where he is. He stands up but doesn't back away far enough to give you space. You're in a far off empty corner. Most people are in the backyard but Shouto wanted some air - so you're crowded against a wooden fence and wall with your boyfriend locking you in out by the entrance. He smells nice, you think - clean with a soft touch of aftershave. You look up at him. "Hi,"
"You're drunk," You repeat, watching him blink rapidly - bleary eyes and the faintest line of a smile whenever he glances at you. He's bent over, staring at you hard. "Is something wrong?"
His expression is the same as always. Unchangingly neutral with a strong and uncharacteristic rosiness to it. Your boyfriend is handsome, alarmingly so. You're aware of it constantly, but this new face knocks the air out of your lungs.
He's... pouting you think. But not fully. His lips aren't drawn together, it's subtle like most expressions on him.
But it's...there. You're not imagining it - the soft furrow of his brow, the press of his lips. His expression grows warmer and it only makes you more confused. He shakes it off, all of a sudden, a micro-expression that fades just as quickly as it appears.
"I'm okay."
"Are you?""
He blinks slowly at that. Concern aside, you can't help but think he's cute like this. His ears are pink enough to stick out against his skin, cold air making them flush even darker.
"I'm okay," He says, then looks at you. He sobers up if only for that moment. "Had something on my mind."
"Something you can't tell me?"
"It's supposed to be a secret," He mumbles. He's really drunk. You realize this late. "So I don't know if I can."
"Mm," You reply. You feel like doting on him suddenly, so you do, petting the back of his neck before hugging him a little. "That's okay."
He follows up with a light groan. You've never heard him complain like that, so you laugh. "But I want to tell you."
"I promise I'll keep your secret at least."
He smiles at you more fully that time.
He pauses for a minute, thinking it over. You don't do or say anything in return. A beat passes of you two standing and swaying with silence where Shout to grabs your hands from in front of you. You think he's being affectionate again, wanting to hold them.
He draws your hands to his pocket though. The angle is awkward, makes you bend your wrist on the inside of coat pocket until you feel something hard and square touch your fingers. It's velvet from the material. A box of some kind.
...A box?
Shouto guides your hand again, this time out. When you pull it out, his palm is over yours. It's a jewellery box. You blink a few times, confused. Shouto hasn't let go of your hand.
"I keep missing the timing," He says, hiccuping. The lack of sobriety more clear than ever from the slight slur in his words. "It's been in my pockets for a while."
Your eyes go wide open. You can feel your own confusion and excitement twist and tangle inside of you, frantic to get a better read on the situation. He smiles down at you, disarmingly and then closes his eyes. His forehead is warm as it touches yours.
"...I thought you didn't want to married. Not really, at least." You whisper.
"Me too," He says, a wetness to his laugh that tugs at your heart . "It was on a whim. I wanted to talk to you about it. But." He frowns a little "It's tough."
You chuckle, a sudden wetness to your voice too. "I bet it was,"
He smiles at you, big and stupid. "I love you," He closes is eyes and presses his forehead to yours more. "Thank you for everything."
"Shouto," You repeat, unsure of what else to say. "What brought this up?"
"Mm," He shrugs, getting sleepier by the minute. "I thought giving you my last name would make you suffer." He admits, soft and unsure. "But taking yours. That felt...okay. Felt nice."
"You're silly."
"Yes," He says, not denying it. "And I love you."
"And you love me." You repeat, a grin splitting your face. Big tears at the corner of your eyes, making your vision sting and your cheeks ache. You look up at him again. "Enough to marry me?"
He seems almost sheepish that time. "If you'll have me."
"Are you sober enough to even remember this?"
His embarrassment makes him blush and laugh again. "My heart is beating so loud I'm a little afraid of it. So yes. I'm sure I'll remember." He admits.
"Let's get married, then." You repeat to him, so achingly happy you think you could die. You wonder when to tell your friends. Bakugou will be pissed you did at his place. "If you'll have me."
He smiles. "I'd like too."
You lean up to press a kiss to his mouth, and Shouto holds you there to kiss you longer than you expect. When you're done kissing, he's smiling.
"Anymore secrets?"
He thinks on it, then hums.
"We should get a cat."
#aristotle.txt#writing tag#todoroki x reader#todoroki fluff#bnha x reader#bnha fluff#this is so corny my god#i want to kiss him#this is gender neutral and very tame#too lazy to add tags
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my class planning a congrats on ur daughter being born gift for my prof and i cant come 😭
#i mean i could but my body is starting to feel worse alarmingly quickly#but i wanna be there for that :(#vinnie talks
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no one's ever had me, not like you
timeskip!hinata shoyo x reader
“Are you really sure that you’re swearing off of dating?”
You wonder how many times you’ll be asked that before you finally get pressured into mingling just to get them off your back. But Akane, bless her heart, looks genuinely concerned, like choosing to stay single was a cruel fate she wouldn’t wish for anyone to bear.
“It’s not a big deal,” you tell her. “Dating’s just not for me.”
You think back to all your previous relationships, and find that you have never been more sure of your decision.
“It just means you haven’t found the right one!” To your left, Yuki, who is alarmingly a lot of shots in, exclaims. She becomes violent when drunk. You would know, your arm is starting to turn red from her smacking when laughing.
You shrug uncomfortably. “I’m not looking for any right one.”
Akane and Yuki share a glance.
“Well, if you say so,” Akane cedes.
Then Yuki slams her hands on the table as she bolts upright, expression grave and voice low as she says, “We’re doing it, though, right?”
You laugh under your breath. Yuki looks a little ridiculous, drunk, and swaying on her feet even when standing still. Her grip on her glass wavers, and you quickly pluck it from her grasp, ignoring her protesting wail.
Akane brightens. “Yes! Of course we’re doing it!”
You instead hand Yuki a glass of water. “Doing what? Are you two up to no good again?”
“Yes!” Yuki exclaims at the same time Akane calmly clarifies, “Noya’s inviting close friends out for dinner tomorrow.” Which makes sense, because they were pretty much the same thing.
“Oh! Nishinoya’s back?”
“Just arrived today! He said he’s visiting for a while.” Akane fishes out her phone from her hand, then pulls out the class’s group chat that you could never bring yourself to check ever since it hit 999+ notifications. It displays a picture of Nishinoya holding up a peace sign, face serious, and next to a large airport sign.
You hum thoughtfully. “I guess if you guys are coming…”
“Let’s go!” Yuki pumps her fists in the air. Akane smiles and tells her to settle down. Akane drank twice as many shots than her.
“Who else is coming?” You ask. “I might pass if it’s the entire school.”
“Noya’s not that wild. I heard it’s just his volleyball team, Ryuunosuke, and us,” Akane says. “I heard they’re also celebrating because Noya’s treating his kouhai’s return from Brazil.”
“Brazil?” The other side of the world! “Yuu and his friends sure are adventurous,” you remark in amusement, sipping idly on your own drink. It’s milder than either of theirs since you were assigned as the designated driver.
“You’ve heard of the guy. Hinata Shoyo, I think it was.”
You inhale your drink and start heaving. Akane’s hands flutter all over you in panic while Yuki descends in deep thought.
Yuki snapped her fingers. “Oh, right! Wasn’t that the first year who had a big crush on you when we were in second year? Noya’s favorite kouhai, Shoyo.”
Hinata Shoyo.
The first time you met Hinata Shoyo was when Nishinoya decided to invite close friends to watch them play. It was an ordinary day, and they had just come back from the Interhigh preliminaries. Their coach agreed to let them take it slow and relax, so Noya used it as an opportunity to invite his friends (it was just you who was free) to watch (read: to show off).
Having nothing better to do during club hours, you agreed.
You were late, stuck with cleaning duty, and forced to catch up to Noya, who had first wheeled into the volleyball gymnasium. The door was shut. You took deep, deep breaths before sliding it open and nearly having your face flattened by a volleyball speeding towards you.
Well, of course, it was a volleyball gymnasium.
Luckily, you managed to swerve out of the way and prevent long-lasting damage to your face. But the shock was more brutal than the would-be impact. You gaped at the ball that rolled onto the grass miles away. Just how fast was that thing?
“Y/N!” Nishinoya’s voice rang throughout the stunned silence of the gym.
Your head whipped around just in time to see a little guy with a mop of orange hair bound over to you.
“Sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry—-” He then looked up at you, now only inches away, and seemed to have run out of apologies. His face exploded in a bright shade of red, but his eyes looked like they were bluescreening.
“Oh, don’t worry. It’s fine!” You wave your hand to dismiss his guilt. “I didn’t actually get hit. Well—almost. But I didn’t! That was amazingly fast!” You hoped the praise would snap him out of it, but he was still gaping at you like you’d grown two heads. Or maybe you had something on your face?
Nishinoya comes barreling over soon enough, brows furrowed. “Y/N! Are you okay? You could’ve died!”
You frowned. “Idiot. I’m not going to die from that.”
Your statement seemed to shatter the tension that froze everyone in place. The captain murmured for them to continue practicing as Noya fluttered all over you like a mother hen, insisting on an ice pack.
Tanaka materialized out of nowhere. “Y/N! It’s you!”
“Ryuu!” You exclaim in delight, returning his hug. “Ryuu, it’s nice to see you again!”
Nishinoya turned to the tiny redhead with a raised eyebrow. “You good, Shoyo?”
Shoyo finally flinched out of his daze, narrowly avoiding your curious eyes. “Y-Yes! I’m just—I’ll go get the ball!” he squeaked out, nearly tripping over his own feet on a flat surface.
Nishinoya snorted, sharp eyes following Shoyo. “I think he has a crush on you.”
Tanaka cackled. “No way! Is that why Hinata looks so constipated?”
Hinata Shoyo. You glanced back just in time to catch him fumbling with the volleyball, trembling like a frightened mouse. It’s cute.
Now, you can confidently state that Hinata Shoyo is no longer just cute. Five years later, July, in an unsuspecting get-together party hosted by Nishinoya, and Hinata Shoyo definitely isn’t the same as before.
“Everyone!” Nishinoya’s voice bellows out throughout the venue. For such a small guy, he has the voice of a booming speaker. “Everyone, quiet! Shoyo’s here!”
Choruses of Hinata! echo through everyone as the crowd dispersed and bounded over to where Nishinoya was. You hear a faint laugh and a “Thank you!” From here, you could tell that his voice had gotten deeper. Still light and high, but it was different from the squeakiness you remembered.
Ever since finding out that Hinata had been back from Brazil, it turns out that his grand debut in the Nationals was aired all over. He’s famous now, not just some kid in Karasuno’s Volleyball Club.
“Ooh,” Yuki giggles maniacally. She hasn’t drunk anything yet. “He’s here. Do you think he still has a crush on you?”
“I doubt it. It was probably because I was his senpai back then. Remember how you reacted to Daichi-san visiting our hall? Everyone in our class was swooning, especially the boys!”
“Something about volleyball players, I tell you,” Yuki says, her gaze drifting over to where Akane was giggling as she talked with them. “Hmm. Speaking of them, I think one of them is on his way here.”
“What?”
Yuki takes one last sip of her tequila shot and leaves without another word. You didn’t have to turn—didn’t even have to move. You can feel his presence the moment he is right behind you, like a burst of warmth hovering, but it’s gold and bright, so you’re not terrified
Hinata Shoyo sits beside you, asking for a drink. You can’t help but stare.
He turned to you, then seemed to do a double take. Hinata Shoyo—now built twice as big as he once was; no longer the cute, lanky, and short kouhai from your past; with neatly trimmed hair and a much deeper voice—stares at you in astonishment. Hinata Shoyo emits a wordless exclamation.
“Senpai!” he exclaims in disbelief.
“Hinata,” you laugh softly, fondly. “We’re not in high school anymore. I’m pretty sure we’re the same age. You can just call me Y/N.”
“Y-You—” He splutters, face tinged pink despite the untouched shot in front of him. “Thanks!”
“You’re welcome.” You smile, tilting your head and grinning wider at the way his eye catches on the curve of your neck. “So, how have you been?”
He forgets about the drink he just ordered, seemingly getting redder in the face as you inch closer. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve assumed he was drunk. Hinata Shoyo grins sheepishly, blushing and looking beautiful under the dim lighting of the venue.
Swearing off of dating, hmm…
You consider him—his bright eyes, his wide and ever-genuine smile, and his undivided attention on you. Does he still have a crush on you? Or was it just the surprise that had him so flustered? You throw your head back and gulp down a shot, ignoring the burn that slid down your throat. You suppose there was no harm in finding out.
#haikyuu x reader#hinata shoyo x reader#hinata shoyo x you#hinata shouyou x reader#shoyo hinata x reader#haikyuu imagines
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Mom who grew up in the late 90s/early 2000s and still uses emoticons, ending her texts in O.o's and ಠ_ಠ's, showing you her sketchbooks filled with edgy pseudo-anime style doodles of angel girls and foxes and creepy teddy bears with too many stitches and sharp teeth with a fond, yet equally embarrassed smile on her face.
Mom who finds her old scene outfits while you're out and decides to try some on as a joke, she says they fit surprisingly well, if not a little more snug than she remembers. You come home to find your mom in torn black shorts, a faded Gir t-shirt, as well as fishnets on her arms and legs. Additionally, it's far tighter on her than she realizes herself.
You would never tell her, but your heart began beating like crazy when you saw her like that. She looked absolutely stunning, not to mention dreadfully— alarmingly sexy. In fact, you quickly found yourself very much in need of somewhere to sit down and hopefully hide the scandalous tent growing in your skirt. Still, she seems to have been drinking since before you got home so she's not very attentive anyhow.
Wow, she's hammered tonight. Must be some midlife crisis thing you don't get, not that you're complaining. You should be complaining, but you aren't. There are multiple moments you find yourself ogling your mom, staring at her ass when she bends over or being nearly hypnotized by her tits when she tries to do the caramelldansen. You think you're in for a long night.
After a while she settles down next to you on the couch, watching the show you put on with a loopy half-grin stuck on her face. You forgot how snuggly she gets when she's drunk, but as long as you have your blanket everything should be all right.
Of course, things started to get a lot more stressful when she suddenly placed her head on your lap, nearly pressing her nose right against your girlcock. Uh, did she pass out? That would be the best case scenario, but you can't really be sure from this angle. Plus there's no way you're moving, that could risk unwanted contact with your crotch. But, the thought of your girlcock rubbing up against your mother's face... no, no! You're trying to get out of your head until you hear a long, quiet inhale from your mom. Your heart felt like it stopped when an equally long but much louder moan escaped her lips on the exhale.
You've never heard her make that noise before. You could feel your heart melting into a puddle between your thighs from the sheer sudden eroticism on display, finding yourself less and less concerned about the consequences when her huffing turns into nuzzling. Jesus christ she's literally nuzzling your bulge. She can't still be asleep right?? Is she testing you? Teasing you? Your entire body feels electric, you know you can't stay still forever, especially if she keeps this up. You adjust to try and make yourself at least a little more comfortable, but hear your mom stir awake. Holy shit, was she actually sleeping?!
"Mmmgh, ah, sorry honey, I guess I-" She trails off, seeing how hard you are up close. "Oh."
You try to squirm away while apologizing profusely. How could you let her see that? You're an awful daughter, a perverted loser who can't even-
"No, no no, it's okay! It's okay, you're fine, j-just breathe, okay? Can you do that for me baby?" Your Mom says, desperate and drunk, holding your arms lightly. Her directions to calm you down actually help somewhat, and she lets you scoot away into the corner of the couch so you can cover yourself again.
You and your mom sit there for a while, neither of you sure what to say. Mom eventually clears her throat, looking everywhere but you.
"I think I need to confess a few things, haha." She chuckles jadedly, looking disheveled and red in the face as she reached out to put a hand on your thigh. It makes you jump a little, but the warmth is so comforting, it almost feels right that your mother's touching you this way. But that can't be possible, this has to be wrong, if not... then you could've been doing this for years now. Uh– what? N-no, that's not right...
"Ever since you started hrt, I could tell from your laundry that you began to smell different as a girl. I know I'm an awful mother, but your scent drives me up the fucking wall kiddo. I've tried... I masturbated to your bra a week ago, just to see if it would pass. It only made things worse, so- nggh, fuck, why did you turn out so good~ It's not fair that you're my daughter~"
This is a lot of information she's just dropping on you, the only thing you can do is stare wide eyed behind your pillow. Wait, uh, what does she mean by that last part?
"Ughh, I'm sorry, I shouldn't be saying this, but... you're kinda my type. I've seen the changes during your transition happening day by day and I could tell, even early on, that you'd be absolutely irresistible to any lucky kid who wanted you. It made me jealous. Things would be so much easier if you weren't my daughter." You could see the conflicted look on her face when she said that. You don't know why, but you think you share the exact same feelings. And so you ask:
What if we pretended?
Your mom looks surprised, like she wasn't expecting you to suggest something like that, it's obvious she was a moment away from saying the exact same thing. She scans your expression, the nervous, blushing, beautiful little girl in front of her, just to make sure this is something you want to do in the first place. She can sense the quiet, excited anticipation in your eyes. God, what did she do to have such a wonderful daught- ah, s-stranger! With no relation to her! Yup yup, totally fine, just two non-familial people... Hm...
"If you're okay with that, sure. This'll just be a one time thing, I promise." She says reassuringly. "Just lay back and let mo- let me take care of you. Um, may I?"
You nod, nestling back into the couch a little. Your mother— or, uh, this very nice woman— carefully removes your skirt, letting your gock spring from your panties. She tries not to swoon, but you can see her half-lidded eyes already memorizing every tiny detail.
"Absolutely beautiful." You hear her mutter, her lips just barely brushing against you, breath warm and agonizing until she wraps her mouth around the tip of your girlcock. The way she swirls and flicks her tongue across your glans makes you shudder, the yelp that escaped your throat is cut short by your hand clamping over your mouth.
It feels exquisite, the semi-fancy term fitting due to the obvious experience this woman has performing oral. You don't think you've reached this pitch of moan ever, with anybody. Best not to think about it!
Every noise you make only seems to entice her more, shoving you deeper down her throat with every bob of her head until her nose is touching your tummy, the only thing you're able to do is writhe in place and try not to pull her hair too hard. Doesn't seem like she minds all that much though <3
You let her know through quivering lips that you're about to cum and she relents, albeit begrudgingly. She can't help but smother your gock in sloppy kisses right after, the sensation keeping you frustratingly close to the edge. After a beat she stops suddenly, backing off a little and brushing a few strands of hair over her ear.
"Gosh, I uh, maybe got a little carried away at the end, haha! Sorry sweetpea, my little girl's just too delicious~"
Your face turns even redder, she hasn't used that nickname for years now, she probably thought you grew it of it. You instinctively push your thighs together, whining as you decide whether or not to tell her. Did she even notice she said it in the first place? Maybe you could excuse it if it was an honest mistake? She probably knows what she did anyways, no need to rub it in. It's fine. It's fine! Oh, is she saying something?
"Honey, can I get on top of you?" The woman said, panting and making an expression just short of puppy dog eyes. "I'm sorry. I need more. Just a little more, please?"
You barely have time to process what she just said before she's straddling your lap, only her rolled-up shirt and her fishnets remain on her body. Her boobs squish against yours, though she's a lot more developed than you are. The mere touch of her cunt to your gock makes you both jump, but she's not putting it in. She's waiting for you with that same look on her face.
You've found yourself going very far into a decision that could have dire consequences. Despite this, you can't help but lose yourself in her eyes, impatient and pleading, but forcing herself to stay still out of pure love for you. She must really want you, huh? No, she's probably just imagining someone else, it's just your scent she's attracted to right? Yeah, that's all this is. Nothing more. After this one hiccup, everything should go back to normal!
"Baby? Sweetie, a-are you okay?" Your mother's worried voice snaps you out of whatever thoughts you were having, and only then felt your own tears on your face. Why are you crying again? So stupid. You try to convey your thoughts to her, but you not knowing why this is happening yourself isn't helping, not to mention breaking down even further from the overwhelming amount of thoughts swirling about your head.
"God, I knew this was a bad idea," she mutters before returning her attention to you, "I'm sorry babygirl, we can stop, I shouldn't have-"
No, no no no. Finding the courage, you reach out and place a hand on your mother's waist, making her gasp as you lift your hips to meet hers and fully insert yourself into her completely soaked pussy. She latches onto you in surprise, wrapping her arms fully around your head as she pulls you close and practically howls with pleasure, her gorgeous tits smushing against your face. You've never heard your mom moan like that before. Or, no, your- ohh fuck your mom's cunt feels so good~ fuck it, it doesn't matter, you can't hold it back anymore. With your hands roaming every inch of her body, you unbury yourself from her tits and cry into her ear, "Mommyyyy~"
There is an immediate noticeable effect on your mom from the utterance of that word. You feel her tighten up hard, her cute little noises oozing with guilt. "Aah~! N-no sweetpea, we- ghh, have to pretend or, or- ngohh god." She almost sounds frustrated at how flustered it made her, losing her ability to think as you start moving inside her, like her brain cells are being killed with each thrust <3
As you start getting closer and thrusting harder into her, less and less words are spoken, gradually replaced with purely animalistic grunts and moans as you two feverishly rut each other. Of course, aside from the occasional groan of the other's name. Neither of you care about the bullshit façades you desperately tried to put up anymore, you need your mommy and she needs her daughter, more than anything in the entire universe.
Your orgasm quickly sneaks up on you, and it seems like hers is too. As you and your mom start arrhythmicly fucking each other to climax, she meets your gaze, mouth agape and eyes hungry. She kisses you, and you gladly returned the favor. You and your mother plead and whine into each other as you both cum, hard. You're pretty sure you blacked out for a second. It was everything you secretly dreamed of. Neither of you want to leave, so you stay inside her as you and your mom lazily make out on the couch for a while, cum slowly leaking onto your lap.
As you both break the kiss, she nestles into your shoulder, whispering "Thank you, thank you, thank you," over and over again. You can't help but say it back. So many aspects of her remind you of the nervous cringy teen she used to be, but you prefer her like this. Perfect, in every way.
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LOVERS ROCK — ༉‧₊˚.
ft. zoro roronoa !
꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : zoro has a new outfit for your excursion to egghead island and it fits him a little too well . . .
꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. f!reader. thigh riding, dry humping, multiple orgasms, praise, zoro calls you pretty, — WC : 1.9k
꒰ NOTES ꒱ : i figured posting this on hump day was fitting. enjoy ! dividers by @/cafekitsune ᰔ
reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.゚
zoro’s musk wraps around you as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck. steel, sweat, blood, and the salt of the sea all wrapped into one. the scent of something dangerous that should leave you repulsed only draws you in more.
because you know better, you know what every inch of his body tastes like, how addicting it is when it melts on the tip of your tongue. can he blame you when you press your lips against the skin of his neck, humming approvingly as you steal another taste?
he lets out a groan that reverberates against your lips, one that has your kiss turning into something more vicious as you suck against the spot, leaving your mark for all the world to see.
“easy.” zoro’s voice is low, his fingers tightening against your hips. the heated make out session was quickly becoming more as your lips latched near the column of his throat, feeling his pulse quicken under your tender care.
“can’t. it’s this suit.” you reluctantly ease up, warm breath fanning over the agitated spot you proudly left behind. “looks so good on you, zo.”
“yeah?” zoro couldn’t help but feel a little smug at your reaction to it. “why didn’t you just say so?”
“was me rubbing up against you not a big enough hint that i found it hot?” you pull back, giving him a pointed look.
“how should i know?” his face heats up, singeing pink as he makes eye contact with you. “you act like this no matter what i do!”
“shut up.” you huff, looking away as your own cheeks become warm. “i do not.”
“yeah you do.” zoro’s hand found your chin, bringing your attention back to him. the blush that softly blooms upon his face dances along his cheeks as it spreads to his ears. “its cute.”
you open your mouth to retaliate once again but he beats you to it, using the opportunity to slot his greedy lips against yours as he pulls you in for another heated kiss. one that stole the breath from your lungs and replaced it with desire, a deep longing for his touch even though he was sitting right beneath you. you needed more.
decidedly, you easily maneuver yourself from his lap to his thigh, the thick muscle sturdy as you straddle it. biting back a moan, you let out a soft strangled noise that slips into zoro’s awaiting mouth. electricity coursed through you both, a shift in the air that wraps around your shoulder, weighing you down to sink your core further against his toned thigh.
“couldn’t even wait for me to get out of the suit, huh?” zoro whispers against your kiss bitten lips, hands gripping your sides as he holds you in place. if he wasn’t so damned strong you’d have moved by now, given into your lecherous thoughts that heat up your core with unadulterated need.
zoro flexes his muscle, testing you and gauging your reaction. even though you were separated by the almost comically skin tight clothing, the pressure sent your eyes reeling to the back of your head. with a short chuckle, he unflexes and the intensity simmers, leaving you full of want.
“zoro,” you mewl out in frustration, the sound dangerously close to a whine. your fingers grip into the plushness of his coat, more than ready to use it as leverage as soon as you can move your hips. “what are you waiting for?”
slowly, zoro begins to rock your hips against him, a steady pace that feels different from normal — it was alarmingly easier. the fabric of the suit was so slick on its own that you could slide along it with no problem, no hiccups.
“just gonna ease you —“ zoro starts before you smack his hands away. enough was enough and he was going far too slow for your liking. he lets go, his smirk resting on his face as he holds his hands up in false surrender before moving them to rest on your thighs. “impatient, huh?”
ignoring his comment, you start moving your hips and just like you thought – you could gain a lot of speed. with a steady hold on his jacket, your hips behind to move on their own accord, not an ounce of hesitation as your clit deliciously runs along his flexed muscle.
“z-zoro,” you breathe out, head lolling back as you keep up the pace. zoro could feel how wet you were, your own suit didn’t leave much to the imagination either and the wet spot forming on his covered thigh was steadily growing.
“feel good?” he asked, beginning to continuously flex and unflex his thigh, the ridges catching along your clit and only making you spiral more.
“mhm.” you nod, already feeling the coil within you ready to snap. “so, so good zo.”
“filthy girl.” zoro kisses along your jaw, moving down your neck as your pace stutters. you could always tell your praise affected him, stirring something deep inside of him as the ghost of the smile seeping into your skin while he brushes his lips along your jugular. “if you keep this up, i’m gonna have to get a whole new suit.”
“can’t stop—“ you gasp out, breathy pants leaving your lips as you get closer to your high.
“then don’t.”
two words that had an unintentional ripple effect, your body moving without any forethought, driven by instinct and lust for the man smugly sitting under you, expertly watching you with lust-blown eyes as you take what you need.
each delicious drag along his thigh was sending electricity up your spine, the pleasure invading your brain and turning it into nothing more than a dull static, desperately chasing the high that you’re sure will bring you clarity once again.
distantly, you hear zoro muttering sinful praises, running his mouth in encouragement as you ascend to new heights. your center of gravity was dependent on him and the mind-numbingly corded muscles that make up his thigh. one wrong move and everything would tilt on its axis — you’re not sure if the thought excited you or not.
“shit, i’m gonna —!” you yelp out, your voice finally able to break through the steady moans and whimpers that were flowing out of your mouth like water.
“let go f’me, c’mon.” zoro gives your upper thigh a harsh squeeze and your body locks up under the searing touch. it was earth shattering, so much so that the lower half of your body stuttered against the slippery fabric, cries of his name tumbling from your lips. “atta girl.”
the praise messed with your mind even more, melting it into a puddle that zoro was destined to lap up like a dog on a rainy day. you squeeze your eyes shut as the after effects still course through your body, gripping onto his shoulders like the world depended on it.
after struggling to catch your breath for a moment, you slump against him a bit, your head resting comfortably on his shoulder. his palm soothingly runs along your back, easing you down and back to him, right where you belong.
“you good?” his low, gruff voice seeps into your skin and you only want to burrow deeper into the comfort of it. you make a small sound and reluctantly pull back, the look in his eye darkening. it was clear how much he wanted you.
“mhm.” you whisper, your palms running along the skin tight suit, agonizingly taking your time. your core still felt so gooey, like burning lava that was hot to the touch. each motion you take was lazy and uncoordinated until your fingers trailed along his covered abs that ripple in anticipation, making sure to outline each divot. “gonna take it off now?”
“takes too long to take the whole thing off. besides,” zoro’s breathing gets a bit heavier as your hand keeps moving lower to where he’s pulsing with need. there's a short pause before he roughly grabs you by your backside and lifts you up toward him, “can’t wait.”
moving over his covered length, the fabric was so thin you could feel him throb with need, each beat making your head spin more and more. zoro groans as you nestle in place, head tossing back at the sudden pressure. his hips jolt up to chase the thread of friction you tease him with, growing more impatient with every glide you take.
“cmon.” zoro grunts out, not wasting any more time as he takes control, moving your hips over him. you gasp as he thrusts against you, needily chasing his own high. “do what you did earlier.”
“now look at who the impatient one is. hmm?” you tease, grabbing onto his coat once again for leverage. but the need he felt transferred to you as soon as he let out another groan. mercifully, you give into his desire as you quickly match his pace, your arousal igniting throughout your body.
“shut up.” he barks with no bite. “you’re gonna make me cum in this thing.”
“isn’t that the point?” you tease, your tongue poking out along the shell of his ear, before your nose nudges along his earrings. “i want you to come for me, zoro.”
“fuck.” he gasps out, fingers harshly gripping your backside as he moves you quicker, the friction burning you both up, ready to consume you whole. with a curt slap to your ass, he gives his order. “keep going.”
and you do. moving along him as if you were really riding his cock just the way he likes, gliding over him as your clit throbs against his cock, the combined heat suffocating you both.
zoro tried to remain intact, but you could see him tearing at the seams, strings of his self control spiraling out of control as you do a number on him. pretty saliva covered lips parted with grunts steadily pouring out, face rosey and scrunched up in pleasure.
you move your hands to weave themselves in his hair, tugging harshly that forced a choked groan from him. through half lidded eyes, he looks back up at you with stars shining in his iris, twinkling with his love for you; a supernova waiting to explode.
“close for me?” you coo, watching as his mind goes blank, his grip tightening. “wanna watch you cum.”
“fuck—“ he head tosses back for a minute, steeling himself to outlast you as long as possible, but it was a lost cause. his next words grit through his teeth, his self restraint being heavily tested. “yeah, yeah i am. too fuckin’ pretty.”
“zo-.” you gasp, your second orgasm pooling in your core, ready to erupt as his compliment rushes down your body, tightening it up as it works its way down.
forever fated to be together, your pleasure merges into one — both of you hurdling over the edge. zoro cums with a grunt of your name before biting his lip so hard he almost draws blood.
there’s an inexplicable warmth that blooms between your thighs, a mix of your mess swirling with the warm cum that steadily flows out of his cock. the fabric that separates you is fully drenched with both of your arousal and the thought only drags out your pleasure.
“mmm.” you fully slump on him this time, curling into his body as yours turns boneless — nothing more than a heap of limbs with a heartbeat that beats to his name.
“happy now?” zoro breathes out, his chest still rising and falling as he tries to catch his breath.
“mhm, so happy.” you purr, shutting your eyes.
“good because my suit is ruined.” zoro grumbles. as if he really cares. you let out a chuckle, your hand wandering along his biceps.
“that’s too bad.” you grip his puffy coat once again, pressing your lips to his ear, his earrings clinking together as you brush past them. “guess you’ll just have to take it off.”
thank you so much for reading ! ᰔ
#◟˚. ☁️ ⋆ daydreams.#zoro x reader#zoro roronoa smut#zoro smut#one piece smut#one piece x reader#op x reader#op smut#x reader
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so obsessed with your ex | r.c.
summary: “Hey,” you smiled at her, alarmingly genuine. “Rebecca, right?”
“Yeah.”
You nodded, your eyes warm. “We haven’t met. I’m-”
“I know who you are,” Rebecca interrupted you, her cheeks warming when she realized what she was alluding to. You exchanged a discreet look with Sarah and Rebecca willed the ground to open up and swallow her with the way the conversation was going.
OR If Rebecca had known that her obsession with you would lead to you and Rafe getting back together, she would've done a whole lot different.
pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader / Rafe Cameron x OC
warnings: during most of this fic, Rafe is dating someone else. Sorry, it's part of the plot, but they don't do a lot of couple-y things, if that's any consolation! Rebecca is kind of delulu (actually, she is very delulu), but i'm hoping that most of you can relate to it, NO cheating!
word count: 4,1k
author's note: something very different, i'm aware, but i was like a woman cursed when i listened to olivia rodrigo's song sorry and this was what i envisioned. I HOPE YOU LOVE IT!!!! Also, I want to @ my loveys @rafesmuse and @rafetopia bc ily guys, thanks for the support and my wife @ghostofwriting mwah mwah mwah, happy reading!!!
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
Rebecca had always felt secure in her relationship with Rafe.
Until she found out about you.
It all started when she was looking for a hair tie, knowing she had left a couple of them in Rafe’s bedroom whenever she stayed over.
“Baby, have you seen my hair ties? I swear I could’ve sworn I put them in the bedside drawer…” Rebecca muttered to herself, pulling open the drawers, rummaging through them. She froze when she brushed a pack of condoms aside to reveal a picture she had never seen before. Rafe was talking to her from the bathroom, but Rebecca couldn’t hear a thing as she picked up the picture, looking at it with a funny feeling.
The picture looked like it was taken mid-conversation as you and Rafe were standing closely together, having eyes for no one but each other. Even though you were barely touching, it felt weirdly intimate. Too intimate to be friendly. And Rebecca recognized you, she had seen you around Kildare before, but you never had made an active move to talk to Rafe when they were at a party, so if you were friends, he definitely would’ve introduced you to her, right?
“Bex, hey. Did you find one?”
“What?”
Flustered, Rebecca looked up from the picture, her cheeks red and Rafe raised an eyebrow at her, a hair tie on his open palm.
“I asked if you found a hair tie. I put them in the bathroom,” he said, rounding the bed to hand it to her. “What d’ya got there?”
“Oh, just a picture I found,” Rebecca said quickly, taking the hair tie out of his hand, moving to put the picture back in the drawer, but Rafe was quicker, snatching it out of her grip with a laugh.
“Are we starting to lie each other now?”
Rebecca watched him closely as he took a look at the picture, pressing her lips together as he paused, taking it in.
“That’s-” she broke off, clearing her throat, before she said your name. “… Right?”
“Yeah, yeah…”
Rafe frowned, before he lifted his head to look at her. Rebecca couldn’t quite decipher the look on his face. She had never seen him like this before.
“I didn’t know you dated her,” she said, nonchalantly, hoping he would deny it. But Rafe only shrugged, glancing at the picture one more time before he put it back in the drawer, shutting it close.
“We broke up before you came on the island, how were you supposed to know?”
Rafe pressed a kiss to her temple, but Rebecca was still fixated on the picture, staring at where she knew it laid inside the drawer.
“Are you ready? Top’s gonna come pick us up in a few.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Rebecca replied, distracted. “Uh, you can go downstairs, I’ll be down asap.”
“A’ight.”
Rebecca smiled at him, waiting until he left the room, before she slid open the drawer again, reaching for the picture to stare at it, her thumb rubbing circles into the corner, wondering who was still printing pictures in this day and age. She wasn’t sure how long she was standing there, jumping when she heard Rafe yelling for her.
“Bex, Top is here!”
“Coming!” Rebecca called back and without thinking, she slipped the picture into her purse before heading downstairs.
To say that Rebecca grew infatuated with you after finding that picture was an understatement. She was obsessed.
Okay, maybe not obsessed, that had a weird tone to it. Fixated.
She was pretty fixated on you.
Rebecca immediately had followed you on instagram when she got home later that night. Scrolling through your profile, she noticed that while you weren’t following Rafe and vice versa, you still followed all of his friends and his family. Rafe’s younger sister Wheezie seemed to be a constant in your life still, judging by her comments under all of your pictures. Apparently you were still well-liked by his family friends, and Rebecca started to wonder why you and Rafe broke up. But it wasn’t like she could ask Rafe why you broke up, right?
“What?” Topper stared at her, as if Rebecca had just asked him to give her 1k. His look made her nervous though, and she glanced over her shoulder, making sure that Rafe was still out of earshot.
“You’re his best friend,” she stated, albeit unnecessarily. “You have to know.”
Topper rubbed his jaw, like he was conflicted, which Rebecca really didn’t understand. What was the big deal? She had intentionally waited until Topper was a little tipsy, and now she was wondering if that was a mistake, since he seemed strangely paranoid.
“You’re his girlfriend. Shouldn’t you be asking him that question?”
“I don’t want to stir up trouble! Why can’t you just tell me?” Rebecca raised her voice, her cheeks flushing when she realized that people were starting to stare, so she burrowed deeper into the couch, waiting until everyone went back to their business. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked this at a party.
“It was a mutual break up,” Topper then answered, speaking slowly as if every single word leaving his mouth was painful. “Rafe never really told me why, but they just disappeared out of each other’s lives from one day to the next, as if they haven’t been dating for the last four years. But she never badmouthed him in the aftermath… Neither did he.”
Topper’s explanation just created more questions than it answered, but before Rebecca could get her thoughts sorted to prod Topper again, Rafe returned, his shoulders lose.
“Your drink,” he said, handing Rebecca a cup, settling down on the couch next to her, throwing his arm over the back. He hadn’t even been sitting for a minute, when Topper got to his feet, muttering something about finding the pong table for a game.
“What’s with him?”
Rebecca only shrugged, choosing to sip on her drink instead of giving an answer, her mind still reeling from the information she got from Topper. The more she learned about you, the more she was intrigued and filled with questions, that she felt like would never be answered.
“You good?”
Rebecca barely lifted her head from the window she was leaning it, her reaction a little slow. She had been… Drinking a little more than she liked. Every time she wanted to ask Rafe about you, she stopped herself and went for another drink, and that process had repeated itself over and over again until Rafe cut her off, deciding to take her home. Rebecca was more than tipsy, her inhibitions slightly out of control.
“Fine,” she replied with a little sigh, rubbing her temple. She could feel Rafe’s eyes on her and she could feel her resolve crumbling. “Why did you guys break up?”
The car swerved off the road for a second, making Rebecca grab onto the arm rest to keep steady while Rafe cursed.
“The fuck?” he said, glancing over at her with a frown. “Where the hell did that come from?”
Rebecca exhaled deeply through her lips before she looked over to him, her brows furrowed, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Topper told me you were dating for four years, Rafe. Four years! But he couldn’t even tell me why. Isn’t he your best friend? He should know that, right?”
Rafe stared at her, as if trying to gauge her reaction. Rebecca hadn’t even noticed that he had pulled the car to the side, the motor long off.
“Is this like a test or somethin’?”
Rebecca rolled her eyes. “No. I’m just genuinely curious. She seems-”
Nice? Super pretty? Like his perfect match?
She didn’t finish her sentence.
“What?” Rafe muttered under his breath, and Rebecca only scoffed in annoyance.
“Whatever,” she huffed, leaning her head against the window again. “Just forget it.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Rafe just sitting there, turning the ring on his finger, letting out an exasperated sigh.
“We got into a lot of fights near the end,” he started, his tone defeated. “She’s pretty headstrong, likes being right. I like sticking to my opinion… It wasn’t healthy anymore, so we both knew that something had to change, even though I still…. There was still love.”
Rafe stopped, but Rebecca held herself back with saying anything, wanting to soak up every bit of information he was willing to give her.
“We figured a clean cut would be best for both of us, have no contact. Give us a chance to start fresh, see new people.”
Rebecca could tell that he was holding something back, probably something along the line of how he was struggling with the no contact rule, but didn’t want to seem like he was still holding onto you.
“She’s really pretty,” she only said.
“Yeah.”
Do you still love her?
Rebecca was glad that she was still able to hold herself back enough to not ask that. She had a feeling that she wouldn’t like the answer that much.
“Thanks for telling me.”
“Yeah. You done throwing tantrums?”
Rebecca rolled her eyes with a small smile and settled back into her seat while Rafe started the car to continue their way home. Most girlfriends would probably feel angry that their boyfriend seemed to be so sentimental still when it came to their ex, but all that Rebecca could think about was how you clearly were someone he held dear, and that she wished to become that person for him.
And when she was about fall asleep after they got home to his place, she wondered how often you had fallen asleep on her side of Rafe’s bed like this. Did Rafe curl around your back like he did hers? Did you have to fight Rafe for the blankets? She thought finding out more about your past relationship with Rafe, she would stop obsessing you.
But she didn’t.
She kept it to herself, however, not mentioning you again after that one talk in the car she had with Rafe.
Rafe, who had been lighter ever since he talked about you, ever since she pushed him to talk about, which showed her that it was the right thing to do. Her fixation on you helped her relationship with Rafe and to her, that justified the amount of times she was checking out your social media, but Rafe wouldn’t understand. She admired you. Honestly, Rebecca felt like she could become pretty good friends with you, but what excuse did she have to talk to you besides dating your ex boyfriend? Worst case, she’d curse you out, best case she’d give you a fake smile. No thank you. Rebecca would much rather stick to admiring you from afar.
… Which was the reason why she was so nervous, when she met you for the first time. In her defense, this was the last place she had expected to see you. The place being Kelce’s house.
It was his birthday, and to celebrate it, he decided to throw a huge rager at his house. While Rebecca did arrive with Rafe, they quickly separated, with Rafe trying to find Kelce - this was his birthday after all - and her going to see her friends. After about two hours, and Rafe not replying to her texts, Rebecca started to walk around to see if she could find him. Which was easier said than done, the house was packed. When it took her nearly half an hour to get through the kitchen, Rebecca almost gave up until she saw Sarah sitting in the corner of the couch talking to someone.
“Sarah!”
Although Rebecca wasn’t the closest with her, she was about the only person she knew right now, and she could use a familiar face. Slipping between a kissing couple, she made her way straight to the couch, touching Sarah’s shoulder gingerly.
“Hey, I’m so glad I saw you. Have you seen Rafe anywhere? He hasn’t been answering his texts and I-”
Rebecca trailed off when she noticed Sarah glancing to her friend, only to realize that it was you who Sarah had been sitting with, and her words get stuck in her throat.
Oh.
“Hey,” you smiled at her, alarmingly genuine. “Rebecca, right?”
“Yeah.”
You nodded, your eyes warm. “We haven’t met. I’m-”
“I know who you are,” Rebecca interrupted you, her cheeks warming when she realized what she was alluding to. You exchanged a discreet look with Sarah and Rebecca willed the ground to open up and swallow her with the way the conversation was going.
“They’re probably in the basement,” you offered, maybe as some sort of olive branch. “Kelce likes to hide away down there to play pool during his parties.”
“Oh yeah yeah, Rafe probably doesn’t even have any bars down there,” Sarah chimed in.
“Right, okay, thanks,” Rebecca said, awkwardly. She stood behind the couch like a deer in headlights. You must have noticed, because you grabbed Sarah’s arm, scooting back on the couch to make more space.
“You can join us, if you want.”
“… Really?” Rebecca asked skeptically, not quite sure if the invitation was genuine or not.
“Yeah, ‘course.”
Hesitantly, she sat down next to Sarah, trying to get comfortable but she was far too aware of your presence, placing her purse in her lap.
“So have you already settled into Kildare?”
Your eyes were inquisitive and Rebecca was trying to see if there was any sign of malice or distrust in them, but all she could see was genuine interest.
“I mean, I guess so… Life down here is pretty chill. Like it’s its own world…?” Rebecca winces at her own words. “Sorry, that’s stupid.”
“No, no!” You insisted, waving your hands at her quickly. “I know exactly what you mean. We went to Charleston once to tour the college campus there and it was like we were on another planet, remember Sar?”
Sarah’s eyes widened and she nodded quickly, slapping your arm in excitement. It looked like it hurt, but by the way you were laughing, Rebecca assumed it was a regular thing. She wouldn’t know, she barely ever spent over twenty minutes with Rafe’s sister.
“Remember when we were auditing that one sociology class and Rafe fell asleep during the lecture?”
“Oh my god, yes. Because he and Top were playing that stupid video game that came out two days earlier all night long.”
You and Sarah giggled as you reminisced about the past, like two best friends and Rebecca grew envious of your friendship, wondering if she was ever going to have that kind of relationship with Sarah, though you did have running start with building a friendship with her outside of being Rafe’s girlfriend. Or ex, rather. Rebecca started rummaging in her bag, acting like she was looking for something, doing anything to seem less excluded, really.
Your laughter subsided and you smiled at Rebecca, stilling her hands in her purse when she realized the attention was back on her.
“How is Rafe?”
“Oh you know him,” Rebecca replied, a little less nervous now that she was talking about a topic where she wouldn’t feel left out, taking her purse off her lap, placing it on the couch between her and Sarah. “The usual. He’s more focused on keeping up the company than ever, been away a lot.”
You nodded, tucking your hair back, and for a second, you looked incredibly sad. Rebecca wasn’t sure if she was imagining it, because a second later, you were smiling again.
“I’m really glad he has you,” you then said, completely surprising Rebecca. “I think you’re really good for him. Rafe has been really hard on himself, taking everything a little too seriously, and I think you’re really balancing it all out.”
Rebecca’s eyebrows have almost disappeared into her hairline by now, she was so shell-shocked she didn’t even notice Sarah clinking herself out of the conversation, crossing her arms as she sat back.
“Isn’t it weird for you?”
“You mean because he’s my ex and you’re his new girlfriend?” You smiled wryly at her. “I guess it’s a little weird. But it’s not like there’s any bad blood between Rafe and I… In the end, I just want him to be happy, and it seems like you’re making him happy.”
Ducking her head, Rebecca hoped that it was dark enough to conceal her red cheeks. To her, this felt like an insanely gracious statement and suddenly, Rebecca felt validated for obsessing over you so much. You were great and she wasn’t being parasocial.
“I- Thank you. That really means a lot.”
“Of course, don’t worry about it,” you said with a smile, glancing at Sarah when she tugged on the ends of your hair gently. “What, do you want to leave?”
“I promised John B I’d meet him on the beach at sunrise.”
“Fine,” you sighed, you and Sarah standing up. Rebecca stayed seated, though she couldn’t help but feel disappointed that the conversation was cut short.
“It was really nice to talk to, Rebecca. Don’t be a stranger, alright?”
Rebecca waved good bye to you and Sarah, watching as you left with Sarah whispering into your ear insistently. She sat there by herself for a while, replaying the conversation in her head, before she realized she was being weird. Clearing her throat, Rebecca grabbed her purse, that still sat open next to her, her smile dropping when she saw that the picture she had snuck from Rafe’s drawer was peaking out of it.
“Shit,” she muttered to herself, pushing the picture deeper into her purse, before looking up into the crowd, wondering if you had seen it, and if you did, what you thought of her.
“Do you want to do something today?”
After discovering the picture had been sitting in the open like that, Rebecca started worrying if she just ruined her impression you had of her. But seriously, how stupid could she be? She completely forgot that the picture was in that purse. Rebecca had spent the remaining time at the party worrying what you thought of her.
“Like what?”
Rebecca rolled over in bed, looking up at Rafe as he got dressed. It was late in the morning, but still early enough for her to be tired after getting back from Kelce’s so late.
“I don’t know, something fun.”
He raised an eyebrow at her, his face disappearing momentarily while he put his shirt on.
“I have a meeting with Mr. Harris this afternoon and I’m meeting Dennis for an early lunch.”
“But it’s Sunday,” Rebecca pointed out, sitting up, a frown on her face.
“Work is work, no matter what kind of day it is.”
“Sorry, I just thought it’d be nice to do something fun for once,” she said, knowing she would spent the entire day worrying about what you thought of her if she wasn’t distracted, not noticing how Rafe was looking at her through the mirror.
“What’s going on with you?” he asked, his brows furrowed. “You never cared about that before.” Rafe paused, realization washing over his face. “You talked to-” His voice cracked, and Rebecca raised an eyebrow at him.
“… You talked to her, didn’t you?”
Rebecca could hear the accusatory tone in his voice and she leaned against the headboard, drawing her legs close.
“I did, at the party last night… She said she’s happy that you have me, that she was worried about how you work too much.”
Rafe was quiet for a while and Rebecca could feel a knot forming in her stomach. She couldn’t have two people be mad at her.
“That’s what she said?”
Nodding quickly, Rebecca smiled at him brightly. “Yeah. She was really nice. I like her.”
He let out a quiet huff, followed by a headshake, and she wasn’t quite sure what to do, nervously playing with the hem of her shirt.
“Alright. Maybe I can cut my lunch meeting short and we can do something after,” Rafe relented, and Rebecca looked up at him in surprise.
“Really?”
“Yeah, I’ll text you later, alright?”
With a wave, Rafe left the bedroom, and Rebecca laid back down, letting out a happy sigh. Everything was working out in her favor!
A couple of hours later, Rebecca was standing in front of her closet, scanning the different clothes that hung in there, trying to decide on what to wear. She wasn’t sure what Rafe had planned, so she didn’t want to be completely inappropriately dressed. Letting out a annoyed sigh, Rebecca picked up her phone to text her friend for some fashion advice, stilling when she saw the new notification.
“Oh my god.”
You followed her back on insta! You must have not seen the picture after all and think she was weird!!!
Rebecca’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, wondering if she should dm you, maybe ask if you wanted to hang out, before she decided against it, putting her phone back on the dresser, face down. She didn’t want to seem to eager, she could wait a week.
Okay, maybe not a week, Rebecca thought, picking out some shorts and a red top, but a few days at least.
When she was all done, Rebecca grabbed the keys to her car, making her way over to Rafe’s place after he said he was done. It was a beautiful day out and she was so excited to see what he had planned for their date. Parking her car behind Rafe’s truck, she got out, heading inside.
“Baby, it’s me!” she called, shutting the door behind her. She didn’t have to wait long, until she could Rafe coming down the stairs, a box in his hand.
“What’s that?”
Rafe looked at her, his face unreadable.
“… What’s wrong?”
He let out a sigh, before stopping in front of her, and as Rebecca looked into the box, she realized it was full of her stuff.
“We need to talk,” he said, and her jaw dropped.
“What?”
“I just don’t think I’m in this relationship as I thought I was, and I don’t want to string you along, Bex,” Rafe explained, pushing the box into her arms. She just accepted the box, too shocked to do anything else.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No. You did the opposite, actually. Helped me see what I was really feeling. And I thought I’d get this over with, before anyone else gets hurt,” Rafe told her. “You understand, right?”
She only blinked at him, nodding dumbly.
A grin grew on Rafe’s face, and he stuffed his hands in his pocket. “Great. I knew you would understand.”
With an arm on her back, he lead Rebecca outside, and she just let him, moving on autopilot.
“I’ll see you around Bex,” he said, standing in the doorway, his hand on the door. “Don’t be a stranger.”
With those words, Rafe shut the door in her face, and Rebecca just blinked, still not having processed the situation.
“And he said he doesn’t want to string you along?”
“Yes.”
The words were muffled.
Rebecca was facedown in her pillow, hoping to die of embarassment, even if Jane was her best friend in Kildare. It had taken her a week to recuperate before she could tell her friends what happened, mostly because she still wasn’t sure what had happened.
“Are you okay?”
She lifted her head, giving Jane a look.
“I just don’t understand why he broke up with me.”
Jane waved her off, picking up her phone. “Oh don’t worry about it, I’m sure he’ll come crawling back tom- Never mind.”
“What?”
Having stopped mid-sentence, Jane was staring at her phone, eyebrows raised so high and Rebecca groaned, taking the phone out of her hand.
“You can’t just stop talking in the middle of the-”
Her eyes widened when she saw what had rendered Jane speechless: Sarah had posted an instagram story, a picture of a couple walking hand in hand in front of her. It was dark and a little blurry, but Rebecca could tell exactly who it was: You and Rafe.
“He’s such an asshole!” Jane screeched, snatching her phone out of Rebecca’s hand. “Let’s egg his house!”
Rebecca only snorted, rubbing her hands over her face with a groan. “J, no. Believe it or not, but I feel like this one’s on me.”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
author's note: tell me what you think :)
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron#rafe x reader#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x you#drew starkey#obx#outer banks
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both of em' pt.2
(MDNI)
jihyuck x reader , just some light guy on guy kissing yk the usual , like a double blowjob situation , cum eating , bratty switch hyuck , soft? dom ji (soft to you not hyuck LMAO) , reader is just compliant with whatever they want , jerking dicks , tit sucking , pussy eating , kissing everywhere , a lot of spit , requested here !
had you really gone up to not one but two hot guys last night and ask for their numbers? maybe the drinks had fogged your memory, and you made it all up. not even your friend remembers them, i mean, even though she was way drunker than you.
but as you stare at your phone a new group chat containing two random numbers, you think maybe you weren't making things up after all.
993-787-**** : hi, y/n right? this is hyuck
993-787-**** : the cuter one...
767-332-**** : this is jisung... the taller one.
hyuck? : low blow ji, low blow.
jisung? : we're wondering if you're free tonight? unless you didn't actually mean what you said last night.... you did seem pretty drunk
you : yes i was pretty drunk.
you : but yes i'm free.
you : 7712 Neo Avenue. Just knock.
hyuck? : we'll be there baby, 8pm
.
you had watched enough true crime documentaries to know that the first thing they tell you not to do is give your address to strangers. clearly these people had never met hyuck and jisung, cause as they stood at your doorway, breaths heavy, dick prints clear through their sweats, maybe giving your address to these strangers wasn't such a bad idea.
.
they were quick to hound you, hands exploring under your shirt and into your shorts. you knees went weak as jisung kissed your neck softly, a chuckle leaving hyuck's lips as he watched you melt into their arms. he pushed you both onto the couch, your back against jisung's chest as you sat in his lap. jisung was soft, warm, but hyuck was impatient, motioning for jisung to leave your neck alone so he could drag your shirt off. you had no time to feel shy as hyuck positioned himself on jisung's lap, his chest pressed against yours.
"hyuck, what the hell you're heavy!"
jisung pushed the boy's shoulder, a grunt leaving his lips as hyuck shifted his weight,
"why do you even go to the gym, stop whining."
hyuck grabbed your hips pushing you down further into jisung's lap, a soft laugh leaving his lips as he watch jisung's head fall onto your shoulder, his quiet moans filling your ears,
"see? you should be grateful i'm here."
jisung couldn't care less about hyuck's teasing as you ass pressed into his lap, precum seeping through his boxers. hyuck leaned towards your ear, warm breath causing goosebumps to form on your skin,
"keep moving your hips baby, you can do that right? hm?"
you nodded slowly as he placed kisses along your cheek, his hands coming up to cup your breasts through your bra. as your lips parted a soft moan leaving them, hyuck used this opening to slot his lips against yours, his tongue slipping in to explore your mouth. the kiss was wet, maybe alarmingly wet, as spit pooled in your mouth as you both sucked at each others tongues. he let go of your mouth with a soft pop, turning your head to face the boy behind you.
jisung's eyes were glossy, an innocent look on his face as he licked his lips desperately,
"kiss me too."
you leaned into him with a smile, his kiss much softer than hyuck's. he was warm and gentle, tongue hesitantly running across you lips asking for permission. you're mouth opened naturally as hyuck attached his lips to your perked nipple, jisung swallowing your soft moans. his large hands moved down your body and past your shorts, fingers softly grazing your clit. you arched your body into his touch, hyuck's mouth following the curve of your body as he finally got off of jisung's lap to kneel between your legs. jisung's hand were gentle as he pushed your shorts down,
"let's take this off hm? hyuck's waiting so patiently for you baby."
hyuck followed jisung's hands quickly yanking your shorts the rest of the way down,
"patient wouldn't be the word i'd use."
you leaned you head back onto jisung's shoulder your bareness making you shy. your bra had been pulled down enough to expose your breasts, jisung's firm hands holding your legs open as hyuck sat in front of your exposed core.
you winced as you felt hyuck blow cold air onto your glistening folds,
"so wet baby-"
he used his fingers to part your lips, leaning forward to lick a fat stripe up your core,
"and so fucking sweet too."
you heard jisung groan from behind you, the grip on your thighs tightening,
"don't fucking tease hyuck, or i'll get her off myself."
hyuck mumbled a small sorry before diving in to lap at your heat. you gripped jisung's thighs, hyuck's tongue prodding at your dripping entrance. you watched as jisung let go of one of your legs, instead threading his fingers through hyuck's hair and pulling roughly,
"do it right."
hyuck moaned into your cunt as jisung gripped his hair, moving his head along your clit.
"stick your tongue out more- yeah just like that hyuck good boy."
all you could do was moan as jisung rubbed hyuck's tongue against your clit, praising him every time your moans grew louder.
"feels s' good, oh my- hyuck, right there baby."
his soft mhm vibrated along your clit, his slurping growing louder as your legs began to shake.
"keep them open sweet girl, don't want you to hurt hyuck right?"
you nodded not even registering his words as you felt your vision go blurry, the band in your stomach snapping so hard jisung had to wrap his arm around your waist to keep you from sliding down.
you were spent, melting into jisung's grasp not even caring as the two boys laughed at you. you jumped as hyuck slapped the inside of your thigh.
"you don't listen. almost crushed my hea- hello? baby are you listening?"
you nodded slowly head turning to the side to look at jisung. you shook slightly on his chest as he chuckled at your appearance, his lips peppering light kisses around your face,
"you okay pretty? wanna take a break?"
you shook your head. whatever it was you were more than ready to please them. you felt hyuck lift you off jisung's lap, placing you on your knees on the floor. he pinched your cheek, kissing your forehead softly,
"let us know if you wanna stop, because if you don't. i swear-"
you looked up at him with teary eyes,
"don't scare her hyuck. we'll be gentle baby- mostly."
you gulped nervously watching as they pulled down their sweats and boxers in one go, their hard lengths springing free. hyuck was quick to grab his length, stroking it languidly before coming to stand right in front of you. jisung pulled him back clicking his tongue at the shorter boy,
"you got your turn, now you wait."
hyuck's whining was just a distant sound as you watched jisung stand infront of you, his length hard and proud, pink tip flushed and leaking. he grabbed himself, pressing the tip lightly against you lips,
"kiss."
you kisses his tip, hands coming up quickly to hold him. your lips traced down his length, placing kisses on every inch before coming back to gently lick the tip. you grinned as he sucked in a breath, length twitching in your hands.
"so pretty baby, but you'd look prettier with your mouth full. what do we think?"
he looked back at hyuck, the older boy nodding quickly as he gently stroked his own cock.
you parted your lips, tongue cushioning the bottom of his length as he slowly slid into your mouth. you hollowed your cheeks pulling his length out of your mouth before taking him back him, building a slow rhythm.
jisung moaned above you, hands coming to collect your hair, moving it away from your face,
"so sweet angel, but hyuck likes it dirty, so we're gonna have to give him a show, hm?"
his words didn't even process in your head before he was roughly shoving you down his length, his tip hitting the back of your throat. you swallowed around him trying your best not to gag, making him groan loudly. he held your head steady as he began to fuck your face, the back of your throat starting to bruise from the force. you focused on breathing through your nose, ignoring the spit dripping from the corners of your mouth, tears staining your face.
"fuck, fuck you're so hot, jisung please let me get some of this, please."
you inhaled loudly as jisung released you from his length, a string of spit connecting you to his tip. the flow of oxygen was short lived as hyuck's cock prodded into your mouth, your mouth sore from the stretch. jisung guided you along hyuck's length, the sound of spit filling your living room.
hyuck pulled his shirt up, he was breathing heavy, sweat making his honey skin glow,
"fuck baby, so good, doing so good for- shit you asshole!"
jisung had pulled you off his length, chuckling lightly at hyuck's reaction. jisung positioned himself next to hyuck, his free hand coming down to hold both of their lengths together.
"come here baby, i know it's a lot but you can make it work right?"
you nodded, confidence temporary as you attempted to fit both of them in your mouth, it was an awkward smashing of tongue, teeth and tips being the only outcome. but it seemed to be enough for the boys as they both moaned loudly at the feeling.
hyuck turned his head to look at jisung, hand coming up to cup his face, pulling him in for a kiss. jisung didn't complain his tongue working agaisnt hyucks. you moaned at the sight, your hands wrapping around their lengths to jerk them off. all that was heard was spit sloshing and moans as the boys continues to kiss, your wrists starting to burn.
"oh my- i'm gonna cum. ji please tell me you're close, please."
jisung nodded into his neck as he nipped at hyuck's soft skin, light marks starting to bloom.
"just a little more baby, come on we're so close- oh my, yes, yes."
spurts of cum adorned for face and chest, loud groans leaving the mouths of the two boys standing in front of you. you licked at your lips the taste of jisung and hyuck mixing together on your tongue.
hyuck leaned down to rub his thumb against your cheek collecting some of the cum,
"dirty girl, look at what a mess you made."
he brought his thumb up to jisung's mouth, shooting him a quick wink. jisung's mouth twisted with disgust, turning his head away from hyuck.
"gross dude, we're not that close."
hyuck shrugged his shoulders popping his thumb into his own mouth before bending down to whisper in your ear,
"don't worry, we'll loosen him up after a couple rounds."
a couple what?
#jji lee#nct#nct dream#nct imagines#haechan#lee donghyuck#donghyuck#haechan fic#haechan smut#haechan imagines#nct haechan#nct donghyuck#donghyuck smut#jisung#park jisung smut#jisung imagines#nct jisung#jisung smut#park jisung#nct fanfic#nct smut#nct dream smut
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— taste of the divine : getō suguru x f!reader
content warnings! DARK CONTENT, forced marriage, kidnapping, mind break, heavy manipulation, dubcon, breeding/pregnancy talk, misogynistic topics, torture (isolation & darkness), conditioning, pet names (love, little dove, good girl), depression, stockholm syndrome
summary: Set out on the honourable task of finding the right wife for their leader, Getō's followers have abducted a special sorceress to bear him children that will carry on his will and legacy. Unfortunately, unlike your rather promising lineage, your temper and beliefs are anything but befitting for his wife. But not to worry, there are many ways to reshape a person. You will learn. Of that, Getō is sure.
❝ la sensualité de ton regard, la fragilité de ton corps. je brise ta pureté. deux âmes s'emmelent pour l'éternité. ��
wordcount: 3.5k | my kinktober masterlist
──── ✧*・゚*✭˚・゚✧ ────
by clicking read more you are agreeing to consume dark content. don't interact if you cannot differentiate fiction from reality.
Never have you felt as objectified as you do in this very moment: the lustful, piercing stares of Geto’s countless followers bore through your clothing as you are thrown before him—a man you know all too well from hushed whispers and dark stares within the Jujutsu Society. He is the enemy, a lost man.
The white robe they forced upon you, a mockery of a bridal attire, does you no favours. They made sure to leave nothing to Geto’s imagination: he should easily see how thoroughly they searched for a perfect fit when they took you.
And yet, somehow, he doesn’t even acknowledge your presence—not once does he seem to look at you, unlike everyone else in the room.
That is the first blow to your pride.
Then, there’s the way they speak about you as if you are not even there. Coming from a prestigious, ancient sorcerer family, your bloodline offers Geto everything he could possibly desire, all he could ever need from his perfect breeding vessel to bring forth some sort of prince to revolutionise the world. Indeed, they say, you are perfect.
“That monster will not lay a hand on me!” Your fighting spirit is adorable. But nothing could have prepared you for the sudden, heavy impact landing on your cheek. Geto can’t hide his chuckle at your shocked reaction. Did you truly expect to insult him in a room full of his most loyal men? They would never hesitate to put you in your place before continuing their praises of their great Geto-sama.
Strike number two followed so quickly, it made your mask crumble. The frustration becomes a thrilling decor on your face as you continue to hold your bruised cheek. There is so much hatred in your eyes—Geto looks forward to replacing it with fear. You will learn your new place, he is sure of that. You will love to obey him, to bear him children that will carry out his will and create a society of the promised.
Yet, Geto appears to hold not the slightest bit of interest for you, no desire found in those deep purple hues you nearly drown in.
He knows he needs to play this game wisely. He can’t have a woman at his side who despises him, can’t risk the danger of a mother who would rather kill her children than let the riders of his apocalypse trample the grounds of this world. You need to fall for him, have to desire him. For that, your strong-willed mind has to be broken, to turn you into the most ethereal sacrificial lamb the Jujutsu Society has ever known.
With a softly spoken command to "leave us," the room empties. His followers depart swiftly, their obedience causing you to frown. How can they submit to a demon like him?
A demon—that’s what he is to you. Dangerous, devious, twisted—yet alarmingly beautiful. As he approaches, the air seems to catch in your throat, and, of course, Geto notices the heavy swallow you're forced to take.
Is this the moment he’s going to claim you? Right here, in this dreadfully cold room, surrounded by an atmosphere of adoration for his sick schemes? Your body instinctively leans back, shrinking away beneath his stare. You already appear so submissive. He doesn’t trust it.
Standing tall with feet planted firmly on the ground, Geto looms above your kneeling figure. You didn’t expect the shiver that crawls over your skin as your eyes meet his. It’s as though he has flipped a coin and donned a different personality: one of intimidation and something darker, something sick. He might kill you on the spot if you speak now.
Hence why your lips part, yet no words escape before you shut them once more. The nervousness clouds your mind, paralysing your thoughts as you waver between holding his gaze or looking away. You're already caught in his web.
"Learn to love your new home," he says—the only words he speaks before leaving you alone.
The man you expected to force himself upon you, to bruise you, to scar your body and mind—he never touches you. He never seeks you out, never again meets your gaze. Your first night welcomed you to a life of isolation. You can only cling to the sticky feeling of fear that attaches itself to your new daily existence around Geto’s presence.
𓍯𓂃
Every day, you are expected to be part of his reception, dressed in fine clothing, your hair styled in ways befitting your title. Yet, despite this, you are forced to kneel, your forehead touching the ground, just like all his followers. You have reluctantly accepted this role after spending your first weeks locked away in a tiny room, with barely any light or kindness to sustain you.
During those weeks, you never once met your 'husband'. He refused to be bothered by your disobedience, unconcerned with the punishment his most trusted men inflicted upon you.
It all played perfectly into his hands, as you began to believe these men to be far worse monsters than Geto could ever be. After all, he never laid a hand on you, never tortured you, never dragged you into the dark dungeons until you began seeing things.
After months of this twisted game of escape within his temple, with only his henchmen for company, he finally deemed you broken in. No one had ever lasted this long under his torture before. He might have even said he was impressed by your willpower. But that strong-willed part of you was gone the moment Geto finally decided to free you from the darkness.
He may never forget the state he found you in: the hatred in your eyes shifting to relief upon seeing his face, your body worn down and weak from exhaustion, your fighting spirit crushed by the horrors your mind encountered in that cell.
You wanted to be saved by him.
Deprived of human contact, kindness, touch, affection, you crave to be cradled in his arms. You want nothing more than to feel a hand pat your back, to be held tightly while you finally allow yourself to cry until you pass out. But the torture continued. Geto assumed it wouldn’t take much more to get you to eat out of his hand. So, for now, he shall continue this farce. He shall refuse to touch you since you aren’t fully ready to accept his love just yet.
That much was clear since he could still catch you stealing glances towards the nearest escape route, no matter which room you were in. Until eventually, even with the doors unlocked, you no longer dared to look. You were too aware of what they would do to you if they caught you again. You couldn’t bear to be plunged back into the darkness, where the monsters you carried out of that room still haunted your sleep.
So, you learned to listen, to bend in an attempt not to break, while your mind slowly began to fade. Geto loves this version of you. How you bow to him each time he passes, how your body stiffens at the mere sound of his footsteps, how your eyes search for him. What are you looking for? Have your resources finally run dry? Do you need him now? Need him to fill you with his love, his affection, and his seed? Geto can only admit to himself the joy he feels upon comparing this new you to the feisty thing you once were. It makes his desire almost unbearable, his cock heavy with the urge to pump into you until you give out, until you bless him with the perfect children.
You should really stop clinging to your dignity and surrender yourself to him.
Instead, you isolate yourself further. You behave, yes. You don’t act out, you don’t try to escape. You are now a perfect rule follower, much like a robot, little like a wife. But what else could he do but leave you space. He swore to contain himself. He’s not some monster that would hurt another great jujutsu sorcerer. Plus, he adores you too much.
But he does start to worry. Worry for the plans that will fail if you succumb to your depression and fail to cling to him for support, for purpose.
𓍯𓂃
Imagine the surprise Suguru tries to hide upon learning about the person standing in front of his most private chambers, seeking an audience at such a late hour. A defiant shadow of the woman you once were enters his haven—your hair loose and unstyled, a soft and tired expression gracing your beautiful features, and that delicate robe you chose to wear for him. Your guard is finally gone.
After another slumber filled with dark monsters and fears, you find yourself desperately searching for comfort and found yourself in front of these doors.
Suguru moves closer, tearing through the final walls you've erected around yourself. He didn’t expect you to break down merely from his acknowledgement of your presence. Was he too hard on you? He wonders, as gentle hues of purple try to solve the riddle in front of his eyes. The kind words of “You are so beautiful,” make your shoulders sag, they add a tremble to your bottom lip—a reaction Suguru hadn’t anticipated. His sudden gentleness feeds your depraved ego. Careful not to turn into a glutton.
The smell of incense and sandalwood might just become your new favourite. The creamy sweetness blended with earthy undertones seems to be a comfort you didn’t expect once Suguru stands in front of you. The warmth of his palm, another trait you wouldn’t have granted him—you always expected him to be cold to the touch. Yet, as a hand lightly rests against your neck, you feel yourself melt.
To Suguru’s astonishment, you lean into his touch and let your eyes fall shut. This serene moment allows your mind to finally slow down thanks to the much needed human contact. For some reason, you feel safe, protected.
You are so docile now.
Your eyes meet as Suguru tilts your chin upwards, leaning in until his forehead rests against yours, his fingertips tracing the contours of your neck and collarbones. “You’re empty,” he breaks the silence with a gentle voice. “Let me change that…” The tip of his nose nudges yours, soft lips graze your skin before trailing kisses along your jawline. “I can make you forget about your past struggle and give you a new purpose…” Your hand fists the fabric of his attire as an attempt to ground yourself, his affections have you hum in sugary content. “A purpose greater than you ever anticipated.” Suguru’s free arm finds rest around your waist, to stabilise your tired form against his chest while his mouth attaches to your neck, leaving kisses in its wake.
“Give yourself to me, be mine forever,” his husky voice reaches your core, hits exactly where he wants to influence your body most as he whispers the words into your ear. Then he pulls back, to cradle your cheek while commanding you. “Look into my eyes, little dove.” He tilts his head, challenging you to focus on him, to finally speak, surrender.
He needs to taint you, to finally shatter the perfect image you’ve been trying to uphold. “Let me save you.”
You can barely offer more than your pliant body, seemingly overwhelmed by his greed for you. “Save me, please,” the whispered words threaten to burn themselves into Suguru’s memory.
His fingers run over your shoulder, down to your chest and above your stomach. You feel hot beneath his touch, needy to be filled with life and love again.
The alluring touch reaches beneath your robe, between your soft thighs, allowing him to tease you through the fabric of your panties. The tip of his finger grazes the delicate area, soft moans escaping your lips as your hips push into his touch.
The moment lures you forward, to close the distance and have your shaky lips meet his in a searing first kiss. Who would have thought you were that starved? Naughty girl. But he happily leans into your guidance, kissing you without restraint, teeth tugging at your lower lip before his tongue pushes into your mouth, leaving you breathless and needy.
As you break away, your face finds refuge in the curve of his neck, sighing your pleas for “more…” against his warm skin. “Patience, love,” Suguru breathes, eliciting goosebumps to decorate your skin and a flood of pleas to cloud your mind. One of his fingers hooks under the silky fabric, tugging at it teasingly to let the cool air hit your pulsing heat before a single fingertip begins to tease your clit, then enters your clenching little hole.
Your moan is unholy, a sound so exquisite Suguru couldn't prepare himself for it. He won’t let you hide them. A finger redirects your face to force you to look at him and allow him to drown in your glazed eyes. The irregular huffs from your lungs warm his skin, as he loses himself in your irises. You’d kiss him again if not for the firm grip on your chin.
“I’ll make you feel good every night, as often as you need me,” the once-dangerous man promises, before showing you his mercy. His hands release you to finally tug at the overflowing fabric of your robe, exposing your heavenly form to his eyes. And yet, you don’t feel exposed, don’t feel shame anymore as you watch Suguru admire you. You’ve never felt so good.
“Undress me,” Suguru’s firm voice commands, though he seems so pliant, so soft. Let your rush of confidence guide you to close the distance again, let your fingers untie his robes and slip beneath the heavy layers. His eyes close upon your touch, almost as if he’s allowing you control. Leaning in, his temple rests against yours and strands of dark hair drape over your shoulder area while the fingertips that trace along your waistline already feel like home.
As you push the fabrics off his shoulders, you can’t help but explore Suguru’s built figure. The contrast between his skin and the richness of his hair, illuminated by the moonlight, makes him look almost innocent. You swear you feel him shiver as your fingertips thread through his hair, his shaky exhale dampening your skin. “So pretty,” you murmur subconsciously, upon which his eyes open, a newfound desire now pools in them.
You don’t mind the blunt nails that dig into the plush of your ass, don’t mind being pushed back until your calves bump against his bed frame. Yet, he keeps drawing in, to fully push your figure up against him while cupping your face to kiss you again. Suguru’s hardness meets your stomach, tainting your skin with his pre-cum while seeking such teasing pressure. The thought of being inside you any moment now has turned him needy. He kisses you more erratically, lips crashing against yours until they nearly turn numb.
He guides your body to find comfortable rest on his mattress as he leans above you. There is a moment of pure adoration as your hands cradle his cheeks gently, before curious fingertips explore the flexing of muscles beneath the required force to hold himself up. His hand roams over your heaving chest, appreciating the form of your tits before trailing along your waistline and hip to take a firm hold of your inner thigh—parting your legs with ease to prod the head of his cock against your achingly ready hole.
Your eyes shoot up to him as he guides his length to run along your puffy lips, coating himself in your arousal and relishing the way your hips push against him. It’s too tempting not to push into you, especially when you roll yourself against the head of his cock, stretching your entrance around him ever so slightly and forcing a moan from Suguru’s lips. Your hands rest in the long strands of his hair and at the soft skin of his nape. Every fibre of your being lures him forward, pleading for him to make you feel complete.
He succumbs, leaning down to swallow your moans as he whispers, “Forgive me for my sins,” just a second before he sheathes himself deep inside you. You never expected to experience pleasure this intense upon your surrender; the stretch of Suguru’s cock a wicked reward that steals the last drops of sanity from your mind. Your lustful moans echo in the shared space between your bodies, and the chilly temperatures of the season make your panted breaths seem feasible.
“Finally,” you think you hear his breathless murmurs before he leans in again, lips latching onto your perky nipple while Suguru palms your right breast, gently squeezing your soft mound and rolling the nipple between his fingers. His teeth spoil—or rather, overstimulate—your left side, nibbling on the sensitive area until you whine and writhe beneath him, your hips pressing against his cock perfectly. How could he resist putting a little torture on you?
“You feel so good,” his words drip like honey into your ear. The tips of his hair and the trained muscles of his upper body brush against your figure, tickling and teasing your awareness as he sinks deeper to finally bottom out.
The addictive moan that escapes you leaves him no choice but to refuse to kiss you further; he doesn’t want you to cover up the sounds of pleasure he’s bringing forth. Instead, he redirects his mouth to nibble along your exposed skin, planting one love bite after another along your neck until he reaches your collarbone.
His world stops spinning when you moan his name—so shamelessly, so heavenly—that he could ascend right in this moment. “S-Suguru!” you plea, so smoothly, he can’t help but thrust harder into you. Your fingers drag over the duvet while he pulls his heavy cock out of your fluttering walls only to push back in. You cry in pleasure, praises to his name spilling from your lips as his hips roll against you. His hands securely grip your shaking form, holding you perfectly in place for his own selfish desires.
Your soft moans mix with his rich ones, creating the most beautiful harmony as your bodies share the deepest connection possible. Warm palms glide over your figure to take a firm hold of the back of your thighs and press them flush into your chest. His entire weight squishes you further into the mattress and allows for a reach that appears incomprehensible. The sudden intensity seems too much to bear; it makes you painfully aware of just how deep he is inside you. His thighs slap against your hips at a rapid pace, each thrust jolting your body against the mattress as his cock repeatedly hits your cervix.
By surprise, you hear him suck in a sharp breath as he witnesses the state he’s left you in: fat tears staining your cheeks as the mix of pain and pleasure leaves you unable to form coherent thoughts. You’re so perfect, perfectly submissive and ruined for him to rebuild.
Now, you feel his love, the adoration pooling in his dark eyes as he can’t seem to look away. Eager to witness every second of your pleasure. “So perfect, such a good girl for me,” he praises, his lips caressing your forehead to calm you down, while he continues thrusting into you with the same strength, speed, and desire. “Let go for me, give into pleasure,” he encourages, the clamping of your walls a telltale of what impedes.
You barely manage to nod in agreement, moans and hiccups making it impossible to form coherent thoughts while Suguru knocks the air from your lungs. You whimper against his sweaty skin, your breath tickling his neck while your nails claw into his back. “‘S too much,” is your final warning before your walls tighten perfectly around him, and the coil in your stomach finally snaps.
With all this newfound love, he can’t resist breaking his little rule. Suguru seeks out your lips, hurriedly placing his own over yours—surely not to drown yours, most likely to cover his own—as he almost immediately follows your orgasm with his own. He thrusts all the way in, coming deep inside your fluttering walls, which practically milk him dry.
His hand slides from your thigh to gently press against your stomach, accentuating where exactly his length resides and his cum lands, praying that your womb savours every drop of his seed to hopefully turn fruitful.
Your bodies are close enough for your heartbeats to thump against each other’s skin, pants and whimpers stifled by the shared kiss as you both come down from your highs. “Don’t ever dare to leave me.” The words are nothing but a whisper as his lips return to spoil your body with kisses, but the intensity behind them makes your heart stumble. The loneliness he must have repressed since his days at Jujutsu Tech have ended something you never once considered before.
But now you are here. Here to stay with him, to be his family, his weakness and strength all at once and forever. He broke you just to hold you. Now let him make it up, forever.
dividers by @/cafekitsune
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#geto smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#geto x reader#geto x reader smut#jjk geto#geto suguru smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk dark content#kinktober#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jjk x you#about.suguru#─ .✦ winter's words#kinktober 2024#cw kidnapping#cw mind break#cw manipulation#cw torture#cw dubcon#cw breeding#cw misogyny#cw conditioning#cw coercion#cw depression#tw stockholm syndrome
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Mouse Trap
Pairing: Ghost X Reader
Summary: Ghost's little mouse finds herself stuck in a trap. Who better to save her?
Warnings: Violence, Language, Angst, Fluff, kinda unhinged Ghost?, Torture ig, murder, Injuries, self-hate kinda i guess
Word Count: 2.5k
A/n: I'm literally in love with this little series, i think it will forever have a special place in my heart
~*~
Days go by since Ghost last saw you, since he fucked you, and the skulls seem to disappear once again.
His little street mouse has disappeared without a trace.
Ghost is a man of logic. A man who can use the information at hand to come to the most realistic conclusion.
And, in this case, you've realized what a fucking nutcase he is and have decided you never want to see him again.
I mean, what else could it be?
His sour mood is taken out on anyone and everyone unfortunate enough to get in his way.
And today is no different.
His brows are permanently furrowed and his grip on his riffle is unwavering as he and Soap do their rounds.
The Scot is quiet for a long while before deciding to try and poke the bear.
"Still nothin from yer mouse?" He asks, knowing damn well the answer.
Ghost says nothing, doesn't even address the fact that the man has spoken.
"You ever think of... lookin for her? I mean, she doesn't exactly spend time in the safest areas," he presses.
If Soap hadn't spent as much time with the bigger man as he has, he wouldn't have noticed the slight falter in Ghost's steps.
Sure, he'd looked for you, but the idea of you being hurt or even killed wasn't one he entertained.
In his mind, no one would be stupid enough to touch what's his, but people have certainly tried before.
His world shifts slightly, the tension in his shoulders changing. He's no longer worried that you're hiding from him, no. Now he's wondering who would take you and where they'd hide you.
Those are the thoughts that occupy his every waking moment for days, until he finally gets his answer.
While combing the streets for any sign of you -or the hostiles he's supposed to be looking for- there's a gift from God.
On the ground, in what looks alarmingly close to blood, is a skull drawing. And a trail of the same blood-like substance leads him better than breadcrumbs.
"Soap, on my six," he murmurs into his radio, carefully following the blood trail as it leads deeper into the city, into enemy territory.
Soap is quick to meet up with the Lieutenant, eyes and ears peeled as Ghost comes to a halt outside of an old office building.
"Wha're we doin' here, Lt?" He asks quietly, watching his back as Ghost picks the lock.
"Savin' my mouse."
The lock opens with a soft 'click' and he shoulders the door open, staying low and scanning the first room quickly.
He motions for Soap to follow and the Scot does, sticking close as the slowly sweep room after room.
As they go up the stairs, Ghost slows, tilting his head to the side as he hears the sound of muffled voices not far away.
He follows the sound, being extra careful as the voice gets louder and louder, until he can make out the words.
His stomach drops the tiniest bit as they approach the third floor.
He's done this countless times, this should be no different.
But it is different.
You're in there. He has no room for error. Not when your life could be on the line.
A man is speaking, and Ghost takes that as his cue to creep into the hallway.
Soap grabs his shoulder, giving him a strong look.
"This could be a trap. We should call the rest of the team."
The skull-faced man only stares at him for a long while then tugs out of his grip.
"S'not a trap, Johnny. She's in there. You wanna leave, go. M'not leavin without her." With that, he turns back to the hallway and moves forward.
Though he has his doubts, Soap follows closely behind, staying silent as the voice gets louder.
Other sounds are able to be heard now, too. These ones confirming Ghost's suspicions.
Feminine grunts, groans, and cries of pain.
At the sound of your voice, a switch flips inside of the large man and he's quickly and silently moving forward, taking down any hostiles in his path. Anyone that stands between him and you is promptly killed, dropping to the ground with quiet 'thud's.
The man that's been torturing you drops his knife onto the table and yanks your head back by your hair, forcing you to look at him again.
"I'm gonna ask you one last time, doll face: who sent you?"
Your eyes roll in your head for a moment before finally focusing on him.
It's been several days of this, if not longer, and you're starting to worry that your Ghost, that Simon, isn't coming for you.
You still stay strong, saying nothing.
This only seems to aggravate him further. He drops your head and walks back over to his table of torture toys, looking for something suitable for what he has planned for you.
Your eyes flutter to a movement in the doorway of the room, and you feel your heart fill with hope as one of the guards gets yanked into the hallway.
Familiar eyes peer into the room, immediately locking on yours, and you feel safe.
He's here. He came for you.
You knew he would.
He presses a finger to his lips, urging you to stay silent, and you give him a soft nod of understanding. Your eyes flutter back to your kidnapper, and you watch as he picks up a pair of pliers.
He clicks them together a few times then turns to face you, a wicked grin on his face.
"If you're not going to use that tongue, there's no sense in having it, is there?" He asks rhetorically.
He steps forward, grabbing your jaw roughly, and then he's collapsing on top of you, his blood spilling across your face.
You let out a startled scream, jerking your head back as he rolls onto the floor.
The room is suddenly filled with chaos.
A gun is pressed to your head, and Ghost has another man in a headlock, his eyes on yours.
"Keep those eyes on me, Mouse," he orders, making sure your gaze is locked on his as he snaps the mans neck.
"Don't come any closer!" The man holding the gun to your head warns, pressing it against you harder.
You wince but your eyes never leave Ghosts. Not even when he produces a small blade and whips it at the man beside you.
Ghost steps toward him as he writhes on the ground, yanking him up by the collar of his shirt and ripping the blade out of his eye socket.
"That's for lookin' at her. Imagine what m'gonna do to you for touchin' her," he snarls, big hand nearly crushing the man's windpipe.
You stare at them as Soap comes to your aid, freeing you from the rope binding you to the chair.
"Maybe, if you apologize nice and proper, I'll let you live," Ghost whispers, his eyes empty and hard as he looks at the man.
"Look at her with your good eye and tell her how sorry you are."
The man's head whips around to you and he stutters out an apology.
"Now, tell me how sorry you are."
He turns back to Ghost with his mouth open to apologize and you flinch as another gunshot rings out, and then he's crumpling to the floor in a heap, blood pouring from both eyes.
You stare at his corpse, at the dead man who threatened your life, then slowly bring your eyes up as the man who saved you approaches.
"How's she lookin', Johnny?" He asks, crouching down in front of you as Soap presses some gauze to your thigh tightly.
You whine at the pain, and Ghost gives one of your hands a squeeze.
"Not great. Bleedin' real heavy. We can drop her off at one of the med tents and-"
"Not happenin'," Ghost interupts.
He pulls you from the chair and carefully lays you on the floor, working with Soap to try and slow the bleeding as much as possible.
Your head spins as the adrenaline slowly leaves you, and you lift a hand in search of your big soldier.
"Simon," you whisper, vision going blurry.
Soap's eyes shoot up to you, shocked that you know the Lieutenant's real name. He can't help but wonder what exactly would happen when Ghost would go on patrol alone. How many nights were spent with you if he's trusted you with his name.
Ghost grabs your hand in an instant, his eyes over yours.
"M'here, Mouse."
Your bottom lip quivers and tears streak down your temples into your hair.
"Tired... so tired," you whisper.
He shoots Soap a worried look then gives your hand another squeeze.
"I know, but you can't sleep yet, Mouse. We'll stop for a coffee on our way back to base, how's that sound?"
You frown, edges of your vision slowly going dark.
"Simon," you whisper once more, pushing your hand up to dust over his masked face.
Soap watches, eyes full of wonder as Ghost, the man who just murdered over a dozen people, is soft and gentle with you.
Your fingers smooth over his masked lips, and then your hand is tumbling down beside your head and your eyes are falling closed.
"No, none of that. Eyes on me, Mouse. On me."
You try, you really do, but you just need a moment to rest. That's all. Just one moment.
~*~
You're in and out of consciousness from that moment forward, finally fully coming to in a dimly lit room.
You're groggy and confused, blinking several times to get the fog clouding your vision to go away.
When things finally clear up, your heart jumps in your chest and you look around frantically.
This isn't familiar.
None of this is.
"Easy, Mouse. You're safe. M'here."
Except that.
Your eyes dart over to the source of the sound, finding those familiar piercing eyes.
Instinctively, you relax and reach for him, stopping with a hiss when something tugs at your arm.
"Easy, love," Ghost murmurs, reaching out and taking your hand in both of his.
Tears well up in your eyes and you look away from him, shaking your head.
"'S'alright, little one. M'here. Not goin' anywhere anytime soon."
It's true. He has no intention of leaving your side until you allow it. Something he has made explicitly clear to the members of his team.
You look up at him with big teary eyes and his icy heart cracks in his chest.
"Don't make me go. Not back to city, please," you beg quietly.
His gaze softens and he shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut for a brief moment before tugging his mask up over his lips and leaning down to kiss your knuckles.
"You're not going back there. Not if I have any say in it."
Your breaths start coming in faster, more shallow, until you're hyperventalating, one hand grasping at the gown on your chest.
Everything is too much. Too constricting, too enclosed.
You can't breathe.
"Hey, hey! Eyes on me."
You obey, your eyes finding his once more, and he nods encouragingly.
He brings your hand to his chest, flattens it against the thin shirt, and you can feel his heart beating against your palm.
"I want you to breathe with me, Mouse. In... and out."
You slowly copy him, slowing your breathing to match his and keeping your hand against his warm chest the entire time.
Eventually, the feeling of his skin only one layer away is too distracting. You slide your fingers up to the small area of skin between his shirt and his balaclava, stroking it gently.
Your breath hitches at the feeling of his flesh against yours, and you lean toward him, desperate to feel more of him.
He leans forward and takes your other hand in his and you stare in awe, pressing your palm against his. His hands are rough, calloused and hardened, but they feel so good, so right against yours.
You slide your fingers up his forearm, tracing the scars, veins and tattoos while your other hand wraps around the back of his neck, slipping under the back of his balaclava and tangling into his hair.
"Simon," you whisper, tugging him closer by the nape of his neck.
He leans in, scarred lips tilting up in a soft smile at the sound of his name on your tongue.
He presses his forehead to yours, his eyes falling closed a moment after yours.
Carefully, he nudges his nose against yours, then tilts his head to slot his lips against yours.
You kiss him back softly, tugging away after a moment and drawing your brows together.
"What?" He asks softly, his free hand coming up to stroke your cheek.
"Where do I stay? Here?"
He shakes his head, pulling back a bit more after pressing one more kiss to your mouth.
"You'll stay with me. Unless you'd prefer your own room."
You're shaking your head before he's finished speaking, and he nods knowingly.
"Then you'll stay with me. We should only be here a few months longer. Then you can come home with me, if you'd like."
He'd be lying if he said he hasn't given much thought to the future. But after this? After nearly losing you before he truly got to have you? He's not willing to let you leave his side.
You only nod, eyes full of awe and adoration.
He gives you one more kiss, then gets up to get a med officer to check on you.
~*~
You spend a few days in the medical wing, and then, once you're given the go-ahead (under the ever-watchful eye of Ghost), you're changing into military-grade pants and a black t-shirt, and sitting patiently while Ghost laces up your boots.
"We match," you say proudly, beaming up at him when he rises to his full height.
He grins down at you through his mask, his eyes crinkling around the corners, and presses his forehead against yours sweetly.
"That we do, Mouse. Now, lets get you on your feet again."
He takes your hands and gently helps you to your feet, steadying you when you try to put weight onto your injured leg.
Your face screws up in pain, but you push through it, taking a few careful steps with his help.
"You sure you're ready?" He asks warily, watching you intently until you glare at him from the corner of your eye.
"Ready. Want to leave."
He nods, wrapping an arm around your waist and all but lifting you off the ground every time you try to step with your injured leg.
He leads you through the base, his glare sharp enough to have the onlookers scurrying out of sight.
Ever since he brought you back, bloody and wounded in his arms, you've been the talk of the base.
Who are you? Why does the Lieutenant like you so much? Can you be trusted?
That last question has plagued even some of his closest friends.
But as he helps you to the barracks, you lean further into him, you trust him at your most vulnerable, and he knows deep in his soul that you are someone he can trust.
Finally, after what feels like forever, he unlocks the door to his quarters and pushes it open.
The trek took far more energy than you'd like to admit, and you eagerly take a seat at the desk against the wall.
"You hungry?" He asks after a moment of silence, watching you as you look around curiously.
You nod, glancing up at him when he takes a step to the door.
"I'll be back in a minute. Try not to get into any trouble while I'm gone." He can't help but grin when you cross your arms over your chest.
Without another word, he exits the room, leaving you alone to explore.
You do exactly that, carefully taking in your surroundings.
There's a bed, a real bed, against the far wall. Across from that is a small wardrobe.
On the opposite side of the room is a door, and you find yourself limping over to it curiously.
You push it open and flick on the light, your eyes widening when you see the bathroom.
A proper bathroom, with running water that probably gets warm.
You turn the faucet on, watching in awe as it takes only a few moments for steam to start billowing. Your eyes follow the steam until they meet your own reflection in the mirror.
An audible gasp leaves your lips, and you lean forward, staring in a combination of disgust and horror.
You've seen your reflection since hiding out, but never quite so clearly.
The stitches at your hairline are crusted with blood, and you have bruises all over your face. Dark splotches that paint your skin in a way that makes your stomach churn.
How could Simon stand to look at you like this?
You splash some of the water on your face, hissing when it's a little bit too hot. Not a problem you thought you'd ever have.
Turning it down, you wait unti lit cools slightly to try and scrub your face clean, to make yourself more presentable for him, to look pretty.
No matter how hard you try, however, you can't clean the evidence of the torture from your face.
Hot tears streak down your cheeks and you turn your back on your reflection, angry that you ever dared to look at yourself.
At least before, you didn't know what you looked like. You didn't know what your Ghost had to look at, to touch, kiss.
"Mouse?"
You sniffle and wipe your cheeks quickly at the sound of his voice, opening the bathroom door a crack.
He takes one look at your face, at your red eyes and tear-stained cheeks, and he's pushing his way into the bathroom and inspecting you for injuries.
"What happened?"
You shake your head and tug on his balaclava gently.
"I want one."
His brows furrow and you can almost see the gears in his head trying to process what's going on.
"What?"
"Please. Want one... like Ghost."
He cups your cheek gently, big warm hand soothing your aching skin.
"Why? I like seeing your pretty face. Dont want you to cover it up if you don't need to."
This makes you tear up once more and you tug out of his grip, turning your back to him and hiding your face in your hands.
"Need to," you whisper thickly, "not pretty. Not now."
He's appalled by your words, stepping in front of you and gently pulling your hands away from your face.
"Where'd you get an idea like that?"
You sniffle and shake your head, avoiding his eyes.
"Broken... ugly..." Your eyes catch your reflection in the mirror and you glare at what you see, your bottom lip quivering as you try to hold back your tears.
A surprising rush of emotions floods him and he takes a few moments to breathe and steady himself.
He's not used to this whole softness thing. Not great at it, either.
"You think I'm ugly? I've got more bumps and bruises than you can count, little one. Scars, too. Does that make me ugly? Should I forever keep my face hidden from you?"
You frown up at him and shake your head quickly.
He could never be ugly, not to you.
"Then why are you any different? I see these," he strokes the mark on your cheek gently, "and it makes me want to protect you. It reminds me that you're fragile. Delicate. It makes me angry that someone would put their fucking hands on you, but thats it."
He pulls you into his arms and lays a few kisses on the top of your head.
"You're precious, Mouse. So very special, and so beautiful. M'more than happy to prove it to you if you don' believe me."
His voice drops a bit lower, as do his kisses, and you can't stop the smile that tugs at the corner of your mouth.
"There she is, there's my pretty girl," he whispers, kissing your lips briefly then pulling back once more.
"Now, you need to eat something and I need to debrief with Price. Rest while I'm gone, because you're not gonna be doing much sleeping when I get back."
#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon x reader#simon riley#simon ghost riley#ghost and mouse#ghost x reader#ghost x mouse#ghost/reader#tw angst#tw torture
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Miss Llama, you have yet to tell us what the Bad Sanses are like around MC during their heat..
Horror becomes the animal he spends every day trying to pretend he isn't. His patience and self control evaporate - it can get scary. Letting you go is not an option, he drags you back into his nest whether you want to be there or not, you're his mate and you're small and soft so you stay in the den. The other skeletons give him a very wide berth because Horror can do a lot of damage very quickly, and in heat he reaches for his axe like it's an extension of his arm. ... But he doesn't just get violent. He also gets so, so soft. Horror in heat is only angry when things aren't 'right'; when they are (you're fed and in the nest and there's no one else around) you've never seen him so calm or so unequivocally happy. There's a lightness to him, a joy that's usually buried deep down. You've never seen him smile so much.
You won't be able to tell Dust is in heat. He acts completely normal, his usual silent dark self, mooching around like nothing has changed - until you're alone together. Then you realise he's a lot closer than he normally stands. You realise he's holding onto your wrist so you can't escape if you startle away from him. You realise his other hand is slipping around your back; you realise he's so close you can see his eyelights, intently watching your expression. You can hear his heavy breathing. He smells dizzying in a good way, smoke and musk and something cold. He just wants to be near you. Why do you look so scared? Don't you trust him? You can run away, if you want to. But he's a persistence hunter. He'll always find you.
Killer gets even more lovey-dovey than usual. He almost starts to stray into yandere territory. When you're around his Soul is glaringly heart shaped; when you do something he really likes, like laughing or pulling a cute expression, a huge red blush lights up his whole face and his original eyelights are visible for a moment. He's sickly sweet with his affection, he always wants to cuddle, he always wants to hold hands, nuzzling and playing with your hair, he's all but glued to you. Does he get snappy with other people? Sure. He pulls his knives out alarmingly quickly. But he does that anyway - and it really seems like he's too busy thinking about you to think about murder. So long as you're in the room everyone is safe. ... So long as you're in the room.
Nightmare is excellent at controlling his heats and it'll be tough to even notice he's in one. But there's little signs. He speaks to you with a purr that's deeper and silkier than usual. His eye lingers on you just a little too long. Something about him is unsettling, setting off your there's a predator nearby instincts, you feel chills when he walks behind you. Yet at the same time... the darkness is inviting. Something about him makes you want to curl up in his palm and sleep forever. If you offer to stay with him, and allow him the indulgence of your company, you'll get a glimpse of something ancient. Something hungry. Something that wants you, just as much as you want to be wanted. Just remember... no matter what you see, he doesn't want to hurt you. He just doesn't want to be alone.
#llamagines#bad sanses#killer? kill people? noooooooooo#whaaaaat?#thats crazyyyyyyyy#anyway pls hold his hand
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