#and also like i said i love the desperation and franticness
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Wade was on the couch, shoveling frito pie into his facehole, when Spidey crawled through the window, paused, cocked his head, opened his mouth, and then closed it again.
Not Spidey’s usual M.O.
Then Spidey made a lip-zipping motion at him and dropped from the wall to the floor. His shoulders and calves had tightened, and his movements jerked instead of slinked, his body ready to spring into motion.
Hot. Mildly alarming, but hot. Spidey had sensed something.
Wade moved over to the front door to secure their exit. Katanas: check. Guns: check. Frito pie: check. He kept eating.
Spider-Man did a slow three-sixty, peering around the room, and froze with his eyes narrowed in the direction of Wade’s newest purchase: a Deadpool-themed boombox that Wade had found on Etsy. It had arrived just that morning.
Wade was going to leave such a negative review if it turned out that his boombox was actually a bomb. Not one star—it had a tape deck, a CD player, and an AUX hook-up, and Wade was all about that retro shit—but definitely negative. Maybe two stars; who couldn’t appreciate the pun of a boombox that went boom?
Spidey advanced on the boombox and ran his fingers over its surface like a snob testing the furniture for dust. Attached to his fingertip on the upswing lay a red square about the thinness of a gum wrapper and the breadth and height of a motherfucking electronic bug.
“Christ on a pogostick dildo,” Wade muttered, setting his frito pie on the Javelin anti-tank missile launcher that had been delivered along with the boombox.
He’d used his last bug detector as a bludgeon, and he kept going out to get a new one only to be distracted by one of the Big Apple’s tempting offerings: people to shoot, Spideys to please, tacos to eat, Spideys to please… Actually, maybe it was kind of appropriate that Spidey was the one helping him out here, given that he’d been so distracting.
And given that…
Heh.
His name was Spider-Man.
And he’d found a—
Found a b—
Wade made desperate crab pinching motions at Spidey.
Spidey interpreted his hand signals like a boss and crushed the bug into itsy bits between his freakishly strong spider-digits.
Wade squealed. “Holy exterminator, Spider-Man! You caught an actual-fact bug in your not-so-actual-fact web! Fly swatter, more like spy swatter!”
“See, this is why I don’t tell people.” Spidey scratched at the back of his neck.
Wade put his hand to his chest and batted his eyes even though only the bottom half of his face was visible. “Awww, and you told little old me?” It always made Wade’s heart grow three sizes when Spidey showed him one of his spidery secrets.
Spidey shrugged. “I figured you’d want your ‘Workin’ 9 to 5’ serenades to be private.”
Wade settled one hand on his cocked hip and put on a country accent. “I ain’t never got no shame over Ms. Parton, Websy.”
“I was also trying to avoid mentioning the Nickelback.” Spidey gestured at the CD organizer next to the boombox, which was open to Now That’s What I Call Music! Volume 10.
Now That’s What I Call Music! Volume 10 had Nickelback’s “How You Remind Me” on it, and after the Britney Spears and JLo songs, Wade had definitely planned on belting out the “I SAID I LOVE YOU AND I SWEAR I STILL DO” and “SCREAM ARE WE HAVING FUN YET?” lines extremely loudly and emotionally, possibly before shooting himself. Not his ideal recording to have in the hands of his enemies.
“Your sacrifice is appreciated, Spidey.”
Spidey gave a sloppy salute.
Wade narrowed his eyes. “Hang on. How do you know which songs are on that CD?”
“Oh wow, some frito pie! And what’s that? I think my spider senses are tingling…” As he darted towards the window, Spidey webbed Wade’s bowl from the missile launcher to his hand.
Wade wouldn’t be fast enough to catch him; instead, he lunged for the boombox and frantically inserted the CD. “Don’t think I don’t know what your 2002 jam is!” He mashed the skip button.
Spidey hovered near the window, about to be hoisted by his own curiosity. “No way,” he said. “There’s twenty songs on that CD. No way you guess right.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, listen TO THIS!” Wade stopped the disc on song 15.
A piano melody started to play.
“Oh my god,” Spidey said. He dropped the bowl onto the counter and his face into his hand.
“Makin’ my way downtown, walkin’ fast, faces pass, and I’m homebound!” Wade sang along with Vanessa Carlton. He pointed at Spidey and walked over. “Starin’ blankly ahead, blankly ahead, making my way through the crowd…Take it, Spidey! Dun-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh—”
“And I need you!” Spidey stifled a laugh.
“Dun-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh—” Wade shoved the frito pie spoon, microphone-like, into Spidey’s hand.
“And I miss you!” Spidey sang into the spoon.
“Dun-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh— chorus time, go!”
Spidey leaned into the spoon. “AND NOW I WONNNDER…IF I COULD FALL…INTO THE SKY…” He tilted the spoon at Wade.
“DO YOU THINK TIME…WOULD PASS ME BY…”
They sang the rest together: “CAUSE YOU KNOW I’D WALK A THOUSAND MILES IF I COULD JUST SEE YOU…TONIGHT.”
“Hey,” Wade said after their duet ended. The dulcet sounds of Celine Dion (song number 16) faded into the background, helped by his hand on the volume knob. “Could you check my bedroom for bugs, too?”
Spidey sighed. “For electronic surveillance, Pool. Don’t get any ideas.”
Wade crossed his heart (and his fingers behind his back).
“But,” Spidey said, “even if the rest of the place is clean, maybe we should check the Switch for bugs too. You know. With the very advanced spider technique of playing it.” Spidey fidgeted.
“Going once, going twice, SOLD, to the Deadpool with the color-coordinated boombox!” Wade mimed banging a gavel.
Pretty good for a day in which Wade had been considering shooting himself to a Nickelback soundtrack. And Spidey ate all his frito pie, so he didn’t even have to deal with any gross leftovers!
The next day, Wade did some investigating and posted his Etsy review: This seller attached an electronic monitoring device to the product, BUT someone threatened their family to get them to do it, so, what can you do, ammirite? Took out that trash for you btw, np. The CD player, tape deck, and AUX all work great, the speakers are nice and loud, and the design is chef-kiss. 5 stars for immaculate engineering, 0 stars for being unwilling to sacrifice the lives of your friends and loved ones for a faceless customer with a poop emoji in their username, 5 stars again for being bribed into letting me be a repeat client despite all the bloodstains. Looking forward to the Spider-Man-themed iPod with webby wired earbuds!
Author's note: for those who don't know what frito pie is, it's basically corn chips with ground beef and cheese (and assorted miscellaneous) on top, kind of like nachos. Regardless of its status as a family dish, it is an absolutely bachelor kind of meal.
#spideypool#deadpool#spider-man#spiderpool#castillon writes#(things I have been focusing on instead of Current Events)#warning for 2002 music references? sorry for any flashbacks fellow millennials
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I was describing DFF to a friend from CQL fandom and she said New with Non sounded kind of like Huaisang with Mingjue, and it def clarified a lot for me about how I feel about both avenging brothers.
The ends don't justify the means, the cats and children and working class servants murdered along the way aren't erasable casualties in the name of a true justice, and these avengers are fundamentally unhinged, twisted, broken people, not righteous seekers of fairness in the world. But I love that both of them are driven by real desperation and are frantic and messy in how much they need to make their revenge happen at any cost; someone trying to burn the world down in their grief, and actually taking the good parts of the world and themselves down along with their target(s), adds so much texture and dimension to the narrative for me.
I love a justice story and an ethical revenge, but for example w/ The Glory, even though that's for me the best it's ever been done, we still have things like a woman being victim-blamed for her rape and drug addiction as narratively acceptable modes of vengeance. I find something freeing in a story that isn't about punishment and who deserves what, but just about the emotional depths people are driven to by loss and rage and the unfairness of a world with no accountability.
#i hope that makes sense i should not be on the computer rn#like it's not just that it's a tragedy and no one wins or something#i'm deeply sympathetic to huaisang and new - honestly they rip my HEART out#but it doesn't mean i think they're making all or even mostly righteous choices#it's similar to how i feel about ter from 3 will be free when he goes around murdering all my favorite side characters#sometimes the wrongness and cruelty of who they hurt for their revenge makes it more honest for me#than if they actually managed to stay within lines of presumable fairness#and also like i said i love the desperation and franticness#huaisang was not murdering cats because he decided the cats had it coming#he was trying to stay one step ahead of a brilliant+ruthless master strategist and making absolutely bugfuck choices in the name of that#i wonder how new was supporting himself and his DRUG LABORATORY after he stopped getting that allowance#did he at some point leave school like tee did and just work during the day and do revenge chemistry at night#i'll never stop thinking about how alone he was this entire time too#men will literally spend years refining a murder hallucinogen instead of go to therapy#dead friend forever#dff#new prathipsit#mdzs#nie huaisang#dear diary
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Freak On The Cam! - C.K.
Synopsis. Choso always loved watching you - his pretty lil’ camgírl - from behind the screen. Who knew he’d love being on-screen with you even more?
Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, camgírl! reader, spítting, Choso has rings and piercings, first times + loss of vírginity (Choso’s), oral (fem receiving), exhíbitionism, DOWN BAD Choso, cúmplay, use of “ma’am”, Sukuna is a menace, víbrators, light jealousy (Choso’s), some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 6.5k
A/N. Meant to post this last week but hehe here we are. Also I’ve GOT to stop using Unc-kuna so much lmao.
“Wanna see a movie or do you wanna make one?”
Choso was screwed. Completely and utterly screwed. So badly, in fact, that he might as well just wipe off every trace of himself online and go into hiding - preferably forever.
All because he had been so stupidly careless as to leave his phone unattended for exactly 1 minute and 47 seconds around Sukuna.
In the time it took Choso to raid the kitchen for his favorite brand of cereal, his uncle had managed to open his Twitter (because “that’s where all the juicy stuff is”), stalk your pretty page at the very top of his last searched, and send a god-awful pick-up line that would probably get him blocked. Or worse.
Damnit, he knew he shouldn’t have made his password Yuji’s birthday.
“Ya should be thankful I didn’t DM her myself, brat.” Sukuna chuckles, not even a shred of regret in his tone, way too amused with how Choso was frantically trying to tackle the phone out of his hands. “What’s the harm in asking? Such a pretty camgirl, n’ you look like you need some good pu-”
“She’s also my classmate.”
“Kinky. Even better.”
No, not “even better”. God, this must be some kind of cosmic joke, and Choso just wished the Earth would swallow him up whole right now - and maybe his phone along with it too.
It had taken him almost a whole semester to work up the courage to just sit next to you during your shared lecture. All gorgeous with your bright smiles, and your smart mouth. And Choso was very much content to admire you from afar - and from behind his phone screen, of course.
Never following, never liking. Never tipping you off as one of your hundreds of thousands of fans.
And now, not only had Sukuna revealed that he’d found your secret Twitter account - the one with those sinful little clips of yourself that had Choso opening the app way too much - he’d also propositioned you. Like some creep.
“Ugh. This is why women hate you.” Still desperately grappling, he spits out more to himself than Sukuna at this point. “B-besides, she’s never even gonna respond any-”
Ping!
And the Itadori household had never been quieter. Never, on a random Saturday during spring break. Never, as the two men crowd the phone, jaws dropped and staring wordlessly at the singular message on screen. You.
“Let’s make one ;)”
---
“So s’not a stream this time, jus’ a video. Is that okay?” You hum from your desk, glancing at the man seated on your bed as he hastily nods along with whatever you said. Looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here.
Weird.
It had only been a few days of back and forth since you’d gotten that first text - the one that you’d honestly thought about blocking like the thousands of others. But there was just something about it that made you stop, something that had you clicking on the profile to delve a little deeper.
It hit you like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact - that this was someone in your class. Someone you knew. How the hell did he even find this account?
You knew Choso as that sweet - albeit slightly gloomy - kid that sat next to you, always quick with his answers and even quicker to look away from your gaze, no matter how hard you tried to spark a conversation. You’d just guessed he was afraid of you or something.
So nothing could’ve prepared you for how ridiculously attractive he looked in that profile picture, all smug grins and dark locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner. Shirtless, giving just a peak of- oh god, were those nipple piercings?
Could you really be blamed? You just had to have him.
But, here - it was like he was just itching to run away at the first chance he got.
“You’re not held at gunpoint, y’know.” you giggle at how he startles at the mere sound of your voice. The mattress dips as you stop fiddling with the camera to sit next to him, thighs flush against his muscled ones. “Are you sure you want-”
“Yes.”
It seems that both of you were surprised by the abrupt response. Too quick. Choso clears his throat, cheeks flaring as he tries to dredge up some semblance of dignity, he drawls lightly. “I mean- Yes.”
You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the way his chest rises and falls rapidly as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - nothing quite like the suave impression his pick-up line gave off.
But so irresistible just the same.
“Well…Cho.” you bat your lashes, voice dropping to a seductive whisper - not too heavy, for now at least. “Then why won’t you even look at me?”
Alas, Choso was not a strong man.
Maybe at your words, maybe at that playful little nickname you gave him, he’s finally raising those dark eyes to look at you. Twinkling with- fear? anticipation? A flicker of something so dangerous as his gaze sweeps greedily over that tight dress you put on just for this occasion.
Choso tries to ignore how sinfully it hugs all your curves. Or the way it would look a million times better on the floor.
This was absolute torture.
And God he thinks he could pass out right then and there as you lean in closer. Too close. The temperature in the room suddenly increasing by about 10 degrees as you purr, tone careful and balanced. “Much better. And now…”
His breathing becomes heavier, eyes flickering downwards. Once. Twice.
And you know you’ve got him in the palm of your hand.
“...all you gotta do is touch me.”
Yeah, if Choso thought he was going to pass out before then he definitely wasn’t ready for those dangerous little words. Ones that have him shaken right to the core - fighting that urge to just take you how he’s imagined all those lonely nights.
“You- huh?” he lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he crosses his legs with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, desperately trying to will away the blood rushing straight to his throbbing cock right now.
But how could he? Not when you only shift closer, barely even a hair’s breadth between you two - relishing in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm. Such an adorable pout playing on your lips as you mutter, “Do you not want to?”
And he did. Oh, how he did - has been imagining it for the past five months, in fact. And Choso lets you know, a little twenty times, actually, as the words spill panickedly from his lips.
“-idiot trying to set me up and I’ve been dreaming of fucking you for so long but I’m just-” Heat rushes to Choso’s cheeks, as he abruptly shuts the fuck up. But it’s too late - the damage has been done.
You give him a wry smile, lips mere inches from his ear. “Just what?”
His breath hitches, muscles rippling so deliciously as he shudders beneath your touch. “I’m a-” Choking out - as if it physically hurts to admit - “-virgin.”
Oh.
Now, you might’ve expected many things - but certainly not this. Though, looking at the cute flush on the tips of his ears, all the way down to those big, needy eyes, you don’t mind. Not one bit.
With one, quick glance at the rolling camera - your mouth is moving before your mind. “Do you want me to…do something about it?”
And then it’s like something snapped.
You don’t know who leans in first, just that Choso’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him - how could you not?
Because goddammit it was always those pretty lips that you were staring at whenever he was spouting off answers in class. You just never expected he’d be kissing you back with such an infectious desperation.
No sooner are you thinking about how sweet his lips are before he’s pulling away with a soft sigh, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses down your jaw. Your neck. Back to your lips like he wanted everything and anything.
You gasp licks a long, languid stripe up your neck - maybe at how utterly obscene it felt, maybe at that sharp cold feeling that makes you flinch. Fuck - a tongue piercing? The noise makes Choso’s mouth drop into a quick oh! surging forward to claim your lips again. Addicted.
Only to be stopped by your hands cupping his face, letting out a pained grunt at how he was so close. Just a hair’s breadth away from your lips.
“Cho~ Open your mouth, baby.” you whisper, hotly.
And he looked so pretty - dark hair askew, lower lip swollen and quivering with need, brows furrowing because he wanted more of your taste. But he obeys, of course he does, Choso thinks he’ll do anything you asked. And lo and behold, sitting right there in the middle of his tongue was a pretty silver piercing.
You just can’t help but thumb open his mouth further, looking him right in the eyes as you spit in his mouth. Once. Twice.
“Bet no one else has done this before, huh?” Grinning at how sinfully Choso’s eyes roll to the back of his head at your taste, “Kiss me proper now.”
God, you were so good at throwing away whatever was left of his poor sanity. And it’s all that’s said before his kiss-bitten lips are crashing into yours again.
“No. No one’s hah- done that before. Only you.” he’s panting into your open mouth, swirling his tongue with yours. “F-fuck only you. Only you only you-”
You barely even realize the way you’re on his lap now, sitting so prettily there that Choso half-deliriously wonders whether he should take a picture. Mind spinning too much with his throbbing erection under your drenched panties, a damp little patch at his fat tip. So hot and heavy already.
“Cho, do you want me to-”
“Yes, ma’am.”
You certainly don’t have to be told twice - especially with that little nickname. Fiddling with his belt, you’re so hazy with want - the need to taste Choso, to see if the rest of him was as sweet as his lips - that you almost miss the look of confusion that flashes across his face.
You bat your lashes at him almost-innocently, “You alright?” And Choso thinks he could cum right there and right now at the sight. If he wasn’t currently battling for his life, that is.
“Yeah, s’jus’- what I wanted hah- was to…” His hands sneak down, cupping your heated pussy through your drenched panties. “-taste her. ”
“Oh?”
“Are y’gonna teach me how?”
Oh. Fuck.
You know you’re fucked. Completely and utterly fucked.
Only moments later, Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress, face-to-face with your sloppy pussy. So mean with the way he was pinning your hips down with one hand, all but ripping your panties off with the other.
You feel his piercing before his tongue. Both the hot and cold so maddening on your cunt as Choso licks long, lazy stripes up your puffy folds - dragging his hot tongue all the way from your base. Just grazing your swollen clit.
“Teach me- fuck fuck-” words muffled and slurring together, vibrations going straight to your pussy. “Use me. Use me how you want.”
You’re threading your fingers through his dark locks before you even realize it, grinding your sloppy cunt all over his waiting mouth. “Quirk your tongue like- ngh-” Angling him close enough so he bullies his soft tongue into your tight pussy. Piercing massaging all the right places. “Fuck-”
“Like this?”
“Sh-shit,” you gasp, nodding deliriously. “S’too ngh- good.”
And by God, did you mean it.
“Yeah? Y’like this?” he’s groaning, wrapping his lips around your swollen clit. “Can feel you clenching around me. Shit shit shit, you love this, huh? So slutty on camera for it?”
Getting wetter and wetter by the second as his tongue roams for that one-
“Oh! F-fuck, Cho. Right hngh- there. Deeper-”
Ah, found it.
Choso grins as you tug on his soft strands, you can feel it on your throbbing pussy. Pushing your legs all the way till they’re at your tits to hit that little spot each and every time. Again and again. Eyes glassy, torn between devouring that slutty expression on your face and how fucking drenched you were.
“Shit, baby,” his words are so strained now, like his sanity was dancing away at each flick of his tongue. “You’re drooling everywhere. See? Show the camera now.”
You don’t have to look. Because you can feel it.
Can feel how wet his mouth is, just glistening with slick and saliva. Trailing all the way down his chin - to his wrist - only second to how sloppy your dripping cunt was. It was like he was getting messy on purpose, like a little reminder to himself that shit this was you and he was eating out your pretty cunt to insanity-
“Oh my god, think m’hooked.” Tongue dragging all over your swollen folds, catching on his piercing. “Think your pretty lil’ pussy’s hah- driving me crazy. Ruined me, Fuck-”
And it’s so embarrassing how he’s talking you through it, grinning at every lil’ whine and whimper that leaves your mouth. You were acting all shy right now in a way that makes Choso’s cock twitch so painfully. He barely even notices, though, with the way he was so drunk off your pussy.
So messy - unable to decide between rolling his tongue over your ravaged clit and dipping into your sloppy hole. Too much. In and out in and-
“Faster.”
He goes faster.
“H-harder.”
He goes harder.
Anything and everything for you - to keep those pretty moans falling from your lips, walls getting tighter and tighter around his tongue. And Choso might just consider himself a man addicted.
“Can you ngh- cum f’me, baby?” You flinch as he spits out the words into your cunt. Harsh. Fucked-out. Sounding just as delirious and breathless as you. “Cum f’me please. Wan’ to taste y’on my tongue. Please. Fuck- need it so bad. So bad.”
You’re so caught up in Choso’s pussydrunk little babbles that you barely even realize when you’re cumming. Just that you’re letting out a strangled scream of his name, dragging your sloppy pussy all over his mouth.
And he has never seemed more blissed out. Long gone is that nervous little expression usually on his face around you, Choso looked like he could be suffocated in-between your legs right now and love it. Hope for it, even.
He tells you that, of course. As soon as you’re blinking back your vision, blood still roaring in your ears. Delicate strings of slick snapping where he parts from your quivering cunt, lips swollen and glossed so prettily with your sweet sweet juices.
“Baby, y’think the video of lesson one came out good?”
Oh. Shit, what have you done?
---
That certainly wasn’t the last time you saw Choso - or the last time you had him in front of a camera, either.
A few weeks later, you found yourself with an entire album for the man - a hidden treasure trove under the simple name of “Cho <3”. Most of the videos favorited, all sorted so tediously in a way that showed you spent an obscene amount of time looking at all the ways he ruined you.
So filthy on camera that you always wondered whether it was the same person in the sheets and in class, texting Choso for later. Just to confirm.
But embarrassingly, only some of these videos made their way onto your Twitter account - with Choso’s pretty face largely out of the frame. The two of you hadn’t ventured into streams yet either, opting to hide him away. Because, okay, maybe you were slightly jealous of other people seeing him - but it was really hard not to be when he looked like that.
In spite of all that, you’d still gained a casual hundred thousand more followers since his appearance - ones who always commented on your solo streams asking where your “hot emo bf” was.
Comments you’d pointedly ignore, because, hell, you wished he was here on-stream helping you get off, too. Yet despite the endless flirting and videos, Choso actually hadn’t made it further than actually holding a full conversation with you. And you wanted more.
For all you know, you might just be one of his many trysts - and it was just for the videos, right? You get the content, he gets the experience? A win-win situation, so why have you never felt more like such a loser?
Such a loser the way you’ve already lost count of the “lessons” but still haven’t gotten to feel him - to fuck him the way you wanted just yet.
“S’alright if I take this, right, ma’am?” He smirks during one such session, knuckle-deep in your dripping cunt. Dangling your drenched panties like a badge of honor, flimsy and soaked with your sweet sweet juices. “S’alright if I-” And he can’t even finish the sentence. Your jaw drops as Choso raises the thin fabric to his face, breathing in your essence like a man possessed.
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-
“You’re so filthy, Cho-” you manage to choke out once you find your voice. Squirming on his bed like such a slut for him. “Was the innocent thing just an act?”
“Nope.” he pops the p, licking lewd little circles on your neck, thumbing open your puffy folds to watch in amazement at the way you glisten and clamp around his fingers. Eyes flickering briefly to the recording phone in his hand. “But we gotta give ‘em a good show, huh?”
Right, you’d forgotten about the camera. But none of that matters anyway because-
Intensity setting 2.
“You’re so mean, too.”
“Am I?” he grins, teeth grazing along your racing pulse. “I think you taught that to me, baby. Shit, lesson 8 it was?”
God, he was addictive.
Choso’s having way too much fun playing around with the intensity setting of the bullet vibrator shoved inside your ravaged cunt. Sending quick, methodical vibrations all along your pulsing clit. In time with the breathless moans leaving your kiss-bitten lips, and it’s all you can to call out for- more? Mercy? Both?
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-
“God, you’re so perfect. Shit, so messy f’me.” he groans, and you could tell that the video wasn’t going to be uploaded anyway. Too shaky, focusing in and out of Choso’s fingers. Knuckle-deep and pumping in and out of your filthy hole. Relentless. “Almost makes me wanna show off to an actual audience.”
“Maybe I want to, too.” you muse, shifting at his heated gaze. Dangerously pressing your thumb over those nipple piercings you’ve gotten to know so well lately - as if to support your point. God you wish he’d take off that snug shirt.
Intensity setting 3.
“That so?”
And no matter how many times Choso’s ruined you on camera - and watched the videos over and over afterwards - he always thought they weren’t enough to capture your perfection.
“Such a slut f’me, baby.” To capture the exact moment in which your wet lips fall into a soft little oh! when he massages your walls in time with the pulsing vibrator. To capture that absolutely sinfully excited little glint in your eyes as he ruts his clothed erection against your pussy. “Y’always this dirty?” Quickly turning into a look of slight panic at the sudden jingle of keys from the front door.
“Yo, brat. Where the fuck are ya?”
Ah, there he was, the reason that Choso usually locked his bedroom door whenever you were over, even if he was home alone.
Intensity setting 4.
As the silence continues, so does Choso’s abuse on your cunt. In fact, he only gets more erratic - like he wanted you to cum. Needed you to cum right now, right here in front of Sukuna, footsteps only growing louder. Nearer.
“Cho-” you fight to get out the words. “He’s hah-.”
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-
“Can’t speak? That’s cute.” he coos, voice way too relaxed for someone whose mind was reeling with the realization that he couldn’t remember if he locked the door this time, and how adorable you sounded. Enough so that it made some raw, primal part of him wanna pull down his pants and fuck you right here right now. Cockblocks and his own virginity be damned. “C’mon now, use your words like a good girl. Tell the camera.”
Cocky bastard.
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-
“Close!” you yelp, unsure of whether you were talking about yourself or the looming Sukuna. Jaw slack, tears springing into your ears as you look up at Choso. “So close.”
God, you were addictive. And this video was definitely going in both your favorites.
“Mhm,” he hums, movements getting hastier. More desperate. “I know, ma’am.”
Intensity setting 5.
That’s all that it takes for you to cum, letting out a loud strangled moan of Choso’s name. Or, you would’ve - if it hadn’t been for the way he’s shoving two, thick fingers into your mouth.
Silencing you - and in your hazy brain you think that if this was his way of shutting you up, then you really didn’t mind. Because all you could taste was you and the cold, cold metal of his rings. Somewhat intoxicating.
“Shhhhhh.” he’s breathing out, still mindlessly grinding his hips into yours. Though, you realize with a pang that today won’t be the day you get to feel that achingly hard erection straining his pants. “These pretty moans aren’t for him, hm?”
Pressing on the back of your tongue, smirking at the way you nod tearily up at him, moans still muffled. Hell, do you even know how sexy you’re being right now.
“Mhm, all f’me. All for fuckin’ me.”
Knock! Knock! Knock!
“Why the fuck are you locked up in here on a Saturday night?” Sukuna sounds impatient, but not surprised. Probably imagining all sorts of dorky things his nephew was doing to hole himself up in his room. “Come out n’ get this takeout- what’s left of it anyways.”
And with that, it’s like the magic is over.
Your high only just bating before Choso’s hurriedly ending the recording on a hazy still of your disappointed pout, cursing Sukuna for his impeccable timing.
Slightly concerned about the door being broken down and someone else seeing you in all your fucked-out glory, he hastily moves to grab the spare cloth by his bedside. Cleaning you up with hushed promises of “sending the recording later”, and “s’alright, he’ll be gone soon.”
Close. You were so close.
A win-win situation - but you’ve never felt like more of a loser.
---
“By God, I never thought he’d get the balls to do it.”
You yelp in surprise at the deep voice from behind you, whirling with a defiant brandish of Choso’s (your?) keys. He’d given them to you a few lessons ago, saying it would make it easier for you to come and go from his apartment as you pleased. Which - to you - felt dangerously like something a boyfriend would say-
But that wasn’t important right now.
What was important was the older man suddenly towering over you right outside Choso’s front door. Big arms crossed over his chest, that leering smirk clashing with his pink hair. “I knew it was odd that brat had a pair of heels by the door.”
Shit. Sukuna.
Ryomen awfully-wingman-his-nephew Sukuna.
“Spill.” At your confused head tilt, he plows on. “Spill the tea. I need new blackmail on my lil’ nephew. How badly did he have to beg you to go out with him?”
You don’t know what was more bizarre - what he was saying or the way he actually pulls out his Notes app as if hanging on to your every word.
“I-It’s because of you.” you manage to choke out, unsure of what Choso has told his family about you. Eyes flitting between him and the door right behind you, sounding your very best not to sound just as guilty as you felt. “You’re the reason we have this weird…thing.”
A beat of silence passes. One. Two.
And just as you’re beginning to wonder whether you’ve broken Choso’s infamous uncle, he throws his head back and laughs. Laughs, right in your face, sounding like he’d just heard the funniest punchline in the world.
“Oh that’s hilarious.” he exclaims, wiping a mock tear. Cackles dying down as if he was suddenly aware that maybe Choso would hear and walk in on this impromptu interrogation. “Damn, that awful pick-up line is why you started fuckin’? I thought it’d get that sap blocked so he’d stop stalking your account so much.”
“No, we…” you hesitate, mind reeling with what Sukuna just admitted, and how bad it would really be that you’re divulging your sex life to a relative of the guy you’re fucking. Before thinking fuck it, might as well confide in someone. “...we’re just doing stuff for-” putting up air quotes. “-content.”
“Just content?”
“Just content.”
“And you like that fool?”
Your face burns at how glaringly obvious it apparently was, “...Yes.”
This seemingly sets Sukuna off on another wave of uncontrollable laughter. “Ohh, thanks for the blackmail on that emotionally-constipated brat.” Typing away on what you assume to be his Notes, he promptly turns to walk away, “See ya around, doll.”
“Wait!” you call after in confusion, making him stop and raise a brow. “Aren’t you supposed to like- I don’t know, give me advice for your nephew or something - like a good uncle?”
Scoffing, “Who said I was a good uncle?” He leans in ever-so-slightly, “Jus’ rock his world on camera or somethin’ n’ ask him out right in the middle.” Satisfied with being enough of a decent samaritan for today, he walks back with a half-wave, “He’d listen to whatever you say anyway.”
Oh. Is that so?
And Sukuna probably meant it as some joke. Something to tease the both of you with - but it’s something that sets the gears going off inside your head. Something that had you ignoring Sukuna’s slightly panicked, “Jus’ not too soon, I needa bully him with this first.”
---
You didn’t listen to Sukuna’s little plea, of course. Because only a few days later you’d steeled yourself to finally send that one text you knew would change your relationship with Choso. For the good, hopefully.
You: 9pm my place. Get ready, cuz this time we’re gonna be live ;)
Cho <3: :0
And with that, you’d thrown your phone on the bed, jittery about later tonight. Browsing through your wardrobe for that one set of barely-there lingerie in his favorite shade of pink. Hey, you could never be too prepared, right?
Nothing could’ve prepared Choso for this moment - absolutely nothing at all.
He might’ve just died and gone to heaven the very moment he read that dangerous text - finally inviting him to join one of your streams. The ones that he’d always watch in the safety of his bedroom, lights dimmed, pants bunched around his ankles.
Cock just achingly hard in his fist while he wished he was with you behind the camera. Getting you off so much better than any sextoy would. Just forcing those pretty moans from your lips - and everyone else could see that. Wish it was them ruining you instead.
Alas, it was only a dirty little fantasy.
Until now, that is.
slvt4u: Holy shit boyfriend reveal, about time.
uniwhore: THIS is the hottie from Twitter?????
itsgenslut: idfc just fuck
“Nervous?” you smirk, looking down at the man sprawled so prettily on your bed. “You look just as close to an aneurysm as you were the first time. Though-” snaking your hand down, “-this is still the same as ever.”
You chuckle at the way Choso catches your lips with his, more to shut up those pathetic little moans threatening to escape him than anything. Because every glance at you in that sinful little pink bra gave Choso a mini heart attack.
“B-baby-” he gasps, grinding his clothed erection against your palms. “I wan- hah-”
“Mhm?”
And God how you’ve ruined Choso - run him so utterly dry of his sanity.
Because he’s angling your head down, piercing cold against your tongue. “Spit.”
It was like that first time had gotten him addicted. So you do - right into his waiting mouth. Jaw dropping at the way he tips his head back, back, back to let it slide so obscenely down his throat. Moaning at just a taste of you, “God, I need to f-fucking ruin you.”
And if there’s anything you’ve learned after all these months with Choso, it’s that anything he says - he does.
The words have barely left his mouth before he’s pulling your bra off, ripping your panties easily off your hips. Each and every little regret about what a shame it was thrown out the window at the first sight of your pretty pussy.
It never gets old - and Choso could never get enough of the sinful sight - your cunt so sloppy and ready for him already.
“Cho-” you whine as ringed fingertips coming up to circle your sloppy entrance. Cold. Stretching you to insanity. “S-stop teasing.”
“Yes, ma’am. But first-” shifting you around ever-so-slightly on top of him. “Gotta show off how wet y’are f’me.”
uniwhore: did he just call her “ma’am”?? Me when??
roses101: idk who i wanna be they’re both so fucking hot ugh
“Fuck, y’look so sexy from this angle. Wonder if the camera thinks so too?”
Your face slightly burns at how he was seemingly taking over your own stream. Smug bastard, you think, glancing down at Choso, red-faced, hair untied, wearing a sly grin as his eyes slide over the flurry of comments. But two can play that game.
“Cho~” fumbling with the hem of his underwear, “You’ve been holding out on me.”
A gasp leaves you involuntarily as you tug down Choso’s boxers just enough for his throbbing cock to spring free, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Blushed your favorite shade of pink - to match your bra - so so angry and soaked in precum.
He was so intimidatingly long - longer than any of those toys you usually brought on camera. Thick enough that it had you wondering, shit, would you even be able to take it?
“S’this a-alright?” and for all his previous confidence, Choso sounded self-conscious. Peeking at you through his long lashes.
You grin, pumping a hand up and down his swollen cock, letting his precum drip down your wrist. “S’perfect.”
“God- fuck, baby. Oh-” Choso lets out breathless little profanities as you straddle his waist, dragging his weeping tip down your swollen folds. So fucking filthy as you sink down in by fucking in. Slowly. “Too- much-”
Apparently too slow because no sooner have you just taken in his fat tip, squeezing and clenching around him, that Choso’s flipping the both of you over.
“M’sorry.” he breathes into your mouth as your back hits the mattress. “M’sorry m’sorry, fuck- just can’t-” fingers immediately drawing frenzied little circles on your pulsing clit to take your mind off the dizzying stretch as he bullies his massive cock into your snug cunt. “Can’t wait can’t wait- waited too fucking long. Want this so badly-”
You felt too good. Too perfect around him.
“Ah! Hngh- Cho, oh my god. Too- ngh-” you moan, as he starts grinding in shallow, mindless little movements just to fit himself inside. Pushing and pushing, you wondered if he even realized what he was doing.
Sounding like his sanity was dwindling away with each little thrust, “S’too big? You can take it. Fuck fuck fuck please. Need this.” Pressing all the way into your lungs. “How do you wan’ it- how do you wan’ me?”
Honestly, Choso didn’t even need to ask, because he just bottoms out - heavy balls smacking against your ass, cock swollen and throbbing inside you - that you think that you just wanted him to ruin you.
“R-ruin?” his voice breaks as he repeats - more to himself than you. Oh, shit had you said that out loud? You’re speechless as Choso throws your legs over his shoulder, dragging his swollen lips lazily across your ankle. “Yes ma’am.”
Oh. You might as well have just signed off your will.
Because then he’s fucking into your sloppy cunt. Unforgiving. A man starved because he was. Jagged, quick thrusts, splitting you apart deeper and deeper on his rock-hard cock.
“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck-” he pants into your open mouth, finding it so fucking difficult to find any rhythm when your tight cunt was milking him so good. “You feel so good. So messy. Ya love it like this, huh? Being hngh- watched?”
“Hngh-” you buck wildly into his body, reaching up to play coyly with his nipple piercings. Tugging and pulling lightly. “Feels too good- are- ah- are ya sure this is your first time?”
Honestly, it was a wonder Choso didn’t cum right then and there.
Tojisslvt: need someone to fuck me like this the first time
22sabi: Typing with one hand is so hard.
DaStrongest: i could fuck her so much better than than inexperienced loser
Choso throws his head back in a cruel little laugh at that last comment, something that makes you tingle all the way from your burning cheeks to your stuffed cunt. Clamping down deliciously on Choso’s unforgiving cock in a way that makes his hips and fingers stutter.
“Ya think you could fuck her better?” it takes you a second to realize he was talking to the camera and not you. Thrusts getting sloppier, getting familiar. “I’m the one that got her so messy like this.” Purposeful. Calculated. Like he was aiming for that one-
“Fuck!” you scream as he hits that magic spot. Once. And then over and over like a man possessed. Just so utterly ruining you the way you knew he could. “Cho oh my god- I can’t hah- ngh-”
The cold metal of Choso’s rings dig into your cheek softly as he turns you head to face him. God, this was the stuff of his wildest dreams.
You - teary eyed and looking up at him like such a slut. Pussy getting wetter - tighter - as he teases you in front of the camera. Torn between running away from his relentless cock and bucking up for more more more-
“Fuck no no no- Keep your legs open, baby. Don’t hah- run away from me.” his fingers dig into your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. “Don’t- need this. Need this so ba- shit.”
And he sounded so genuinely worried he’d lose the feeling of your heady cunt. Fingers bruising on your hips as he pulls you closer. Like he was trying to fuck out any and every shred of shyness out of your body.
slvt4u: Always the quiet ones.
DaStrongest: heh, fuck off. i’d make her cum so much harder.
Now, Choso was fucking you like he had a point to prove, and it was probably the only reason he hadn’t passed out from how good your pussy felt wrapped around him.
Both of you were barely-lucid at this point - and he was out of control now.
Pussy drunk thoughts unfiltered, “No one’s ever d-done this- got me hah- feeling like this.” And you had the distinct feeling he just beat you to your original goal, letting out sweet little babbles into your open mouth - though his hips were anything but.
So hard that you were sure the creases of your sheets would leave marks for tomorrow - along with his balls on your ass, your ankles on his shoulders, lips searing against yours. It was like he wanted to prove something - to prove he was good enough to- the viewers? To you?
Knowing your body well enough to hit that one spot over and over until you were sobbing. Fingers erratic on your clit.
“Cho-” you squeal, tears springing to your eyes as he only gets sloppier. “I-I’m gonna-”
“Cum?” he breathes, as if he couldn’t believe it. And fuck if you weren’t the gates of heaven spread wide open for him then he didn’t know what was. “Fucking cum. Please please- hah- f’me. Cum on m’cock n’ make them jealous. F’me- Like you’re mine.”
You barely even realize when you are. Jaw slack, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you see stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. God, he was gonna have to go home and rewatch this stream all over again.
“Ngh- m’cumming m’cumming oh-”
Not even realizing the way you’re dragging your nails down Choso’s sculpted back. Marking up his milky skin - and he lets you.
Loved it in fact- the way he loved you.
Your eyes go wide, and Choso knows he’s fucked up. Realizing with a jolt that words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. But it’s the way you squeeze him tighter- giving him such a gorgeous little fucked-out smile that sends him over the edge.
Sharp canines digging into the crook of your neck like he wanted to break skin, holding himself back from breaking you while he cums and cums so hard it hurt. Over and over-
“Love you- love you love you love you-” he’s muttering into the skin, unbarred. “Since I first saw hah- you. Wanted this more than fuck fuck- air that I breathe.”
His seed was oozing out of you now, painting your ravaged pussy white, dribbling down your legs. So fucking full and debauched. Thick, hot globs that were sure to stain those overpriced new sheets. But did Choso care for the mess? Not at all.
Because you were holding him so impossibly tight, pushing away the strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Whispering little praises as he fucks you through his first time. Close. Warm. Everything he ever dreamed of.
“S’everything I ever dreamed of, too, Cho.”
And he knows he’s won.
urfavslvt: Proudest nut. Want more.
uniwhore: does this mean couples content??? Pls say yes plsplspls
DaStrongest: invite me next time <3
“Thought you were embarrassed.” he licks soothingly over the bite. Voice shot, piercing smooth against his tongue. Embarrassing little confessions leaving him with each spark of electricity running through his veins. “Thought you didn’t stream w’me cuz of that- but shit. Dreamed of this f’so long. So long-”
Oh?
“Hey, Cho.” your voice rings through his hazy mind. Just enough for Choso to raise his head and meet your intoxicating, sultry gaze. Giving a sly, sidelong glance at the still-blinking camera.
“Mhm?”
“Wanna film a week’s worth of ‘movies’ in advance?”
---
Sukuna (do not answer): Oi shitty nephew, where r u Jin made me come over with (half) leftovers.
You: Sorry, not home. At the movies rn.
Sukuna (do not answer): When tf do u go to movies??
You: Since now, on a date. You probably can’t relate.
Sukuna (do not answer): Stfu n’ stop lying, a date with who? Ur body pillow?? Not like u had the balls to ask out that pretty lil’ camgirl anyway.
Haha
Right?
You: *girlfriend
Sukuna (do not answer): Huh?
You: Girlfriend.
Sukuna (do not answer): THE FUCKIN’ PICK-UP LINE WORKED??
A/N. This came out a LOT longer than expected.
Plagiarism not authorized.
#choso x reader#choso smut#choso x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#choso kamo x reader#choso kamo smut#choso kamo x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#choso#tonywrites#choso kamo#gojo x reader
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Had to use my memory to make this but…
Sebek losing his composure and biting you all over with his sharp teeth excluding but very near your nape while he hammers into you in a frenzy. He’s whispering frantically about how much he wants to stuff you full of his eggs/kin.
Malleus begging you to let him pleasure you as he’s teary eyed and flustered from how amazing your scent is to him. It’s making him go crazy over how much he wants you.
Trey giving you licks of his homemade whip cream on a spoon every time you let him bite you. Bonus: When you don’t want to eat any more, he puts the rest on various parts of your body and bites <3
-🌊
Warnings: 18+, AFAB!Reader who uses she/her pronouns, very self-indulgent, I love 🌊 Anon and miss them dearly
Trey Clover
The whipped cream was cool against the skin of your tummy, making you shiver. However, it was quickly contrasted with the feeling of your boyfriend’s tongue swiping up the cream.
His warm smile and chuckle as he lowered himself between your legs made your heart flutter, and he gently held your thighs and placed them on his shoulders. His tongue made one flick against your cunt, and he was pussydrunk.
You were sweeter than any cream, and his hands went to your hips to hold you still as he continued slurping, licking… his tongue swirled around your clit, making you writhe in pleasure…
To the baker, he could die happily drowning in your pussy. Your juices were all over his face and mouth, and he was only going to make you messier.
He reached into his pants as he started stroking himself while continuing to eat your pussy, mumbling praises as your thighs wrapped around his head.
“You have such a pretty pussy, baby…” He whispered against your cunt. He soon parted to press kisses against your inner thighs, biting your right thigh slightly before returning to your warm, delicious pussy. “She’s just leakin’...”
Soon, you reach your climax and cum all over his face, and he smiled as he stood up. He didn’t cum yet, but he didn’t need to. Seeing you panting as you come down from your high was good enough for him.
Malleus Draconia
There were tears in his eyes as you straddled him, and his hips were grinding up into you, his cock rubbing against your panties. His deep voice let out groans as he begged you to let him inside you, to fuck his clutch into you. To make you his.
He quickly flipped you both over so he was on top, and he lowered his head into the crook of your neck and inhaled your scent. Great Sevens, you even smelled beautiful…
Malleus couldn’t take it anymore. He pressed kiss after kiss to your neck, trying to distract you from the inevitable pain as he slid your panties to the side and lined his cock up to your glistening entrance..
“Darling… you need to let me in…” He whispers desperately. He looks like a man on the brink of insanity. “Please…”
Once you give him a nod, he sinks into your warmth. He buries himself completely, pressing his lips to yours until he bottoms out inside of you. You just felt so full… his cock was so big and girthy… your nails dug into his back as you tried to adjust to his size.
“My love, relax…” You follow his instructions, and he soon starts thrusting. It had no pace… no pattern… but his dick was just so large that it hit everything it needed to in order to keep you squirming.
Sebek Zigvolt
His father is a dentist. His mother is his father’s assistant. All three of the Zigvolt children probably have wonderful pearly whites. His biting power is also unmatched, considering it is a trait that carries down from Mrs. Zigvolt.
That being said, you were the only one to experience it in this manner… His fangs sink down into the nape of your neck, drawing blood. His tongue quickly lapped it up, and the groan he let out almost made you cum for the third time.
Sebek’s cock was drilling into you faster than you could even process. What he was whispering to you was even more sexy than the aroma of sex that was in the air of the Ramshackle dormitory… in which Grim was not present.
“When I plant my eggs inside you, darling… our kin will sit in your womb until they are ready to come out. You want that, my love? You want to have my hatchlings?”
You couldn’t help it as you arched your back and came all over his cock once again, and when he felt your walls squeeze him, he gave a few more frantic thrusts before he came inside of you, panting.
The smell of his cologne, mixed with his natural musk, covered you entirely, and he found his heart swelling with pride. He had claimed his mate… the future mother of his children. He looked you over, and the bite marks all over your body further proved this point.
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland smut#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#twst x reader#twst smut#disney twisted wonderland#disney twst#twst wonderland#divider by cafekitsune#twst trey x reader#trey clover x reader#trey x reader#twst trey#trey clover#trey#twst trey clover#twst trey clover x reader#malleus#malleus x reader#malleus draconia#malleus draconia x reader#twst malleus draconia x reader#twst malleus draconia#twst malleus x reader#twst malleus#sebek#sebek zigvolt x reader#sebek smut#twst sebek
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hi!!!! im wondering if you could do a story about idol mingyu, idol reader, and a story about how mingyu couldnt control himself after seeing his girlfriend perform a hot performance on an end of the year award show because she looked stunning, and he also then accidentally reveals their relationship. TYSM!!💞
content: idol!mingyu x idol!reader, established relationship, secret relationship, mingyu is a simp, afab reader, public embarrassment (not really), part of my lil idol!mingyu universe (even though ive created three separate aus of it oops), dry humping, penetrative sex, mentions of fingering, etc.
wc: 1429
a/n: thank u for requesting i love writing idol aus hehe hope u enjoy <3
original fic
masterlist
as a seasoned idol, mingyu was expected by now to have a pristine ability hold restraint in any and every public situation that required it.
there were certain ways in which he was expected to act while in the public eye.
for instance, he could never outwardly express discomfort at the few awkward fancalls he had to participate in. nor could he show dislike towards the few members of the industry he didn't quite get along with.
but above all, he was absolutely never to wear the lust he felt for you on his face in such a public setting.
especially not during an awards show that was being streamed internationally.
even more so while the camera was focused on seventeen for their reactions of your performance.
but mingyu was just a man after all. a man who was thoroughly and proudly obsessed with you.
except this was meant to be a secret kept between the two of you (and maybe a few other people you had let in on the secret).
so mingyu immediately knew he was fucked the moment your set had begun and you came out wearing the tiniest little number he had ever seen. it hugged your body perfectly, highlighting his favorite parts in the most delicious ways.
it might've been fine if that had been it, but your pretty outfit was also accompanied by the most sinful of sets he had ever seen you do.
watching you grind and twist yourself in ways that reminded him of the many hours spent between the sheets with you was just not something mingyu knew how to witness without it eliciting a reaction out of him.
and sadly for mingyu, his face told every single one of his emotions.
his droopy and lustful eyes said everything they needed to say on their own, but they were also accompanied by the constant biting and licking of his lips as he watched you.
the one thing he didn't realize, however, was that the camera had been on him that whole time, airing his reactions to your performance for everyone out there to see. it had even managed to capture the gruttal groan he'd let out the moment you started grinding sensually on the floor (in a fashion similar to the way you did to him so many times before).
it wasn't until one boo seungkwan kicked him from under the table to get him to react like something other than an animal in heat and clap for you like a normal human being.
but the damage was done, and now so he felt extremely self conscious for the remainder of the show, not knowing what type of rumors to expect to see the following morning.
for now, though, his priority was to catch you during the intermediate time between your show and that of his own group. fortunately for him, there was one group going between your group and his, allowing him a believable excuse to head backstage with his members and go astray as he looked for you before your own group had to head back.
without so much as a single word, he grabbed you by the arm and dragged you to the nearest empty room he could find, immediately locking the two of you in there as his eyes got a fill on you in your current ensemble; the main instigator of this whole predicament.
"gyu, what the hell are you-"
"no talking. fuck. please, just-" there was genuine desperation in his words. his frantic eyes showed how badly he wanted you, but he didnt even know where to start. so he let his body take control of his actions.
it started with a rough yet sensual kiss against your lips as his hands got a feel of your body. he groped and caressed every inch of you, his lust growing more and more by the second.
"made me make a fool of myself out there, baby," he grunted, lips now trailing down your exposed shoulder, making their way up and down your neck with wet kisses, "couldnt keep my eyes off you the whole time."
"g-gyu," you were defeated against him, allowing your body to be handled however he wanted as long as he kept touching you. he relished on this.
"they saw everything. the way i couldnt keep my eyes off of you ... the way one single look at you can get me on my knees in one instant, fuck", he uncovered as much of your body as he could, raising your skirt while lowering your shirt, "they all know how much i want you."
but you didnt process nor care for his words as he ground his solid member against your now bare cunt (sans some very thin seamless panties that accompanied your skirt), completely lost to the delirious feeling his cock gave you even through his pants.
he kept whispering in your ear just how badly you'd affected him just now, how everyone now knew how pretty you must look when you ride him – all while he hastily lowered his pants and moved your own panties aside, plunging inside as soon as you gave him the okay.
"f-fuck ... feel so fucking good, baby," he breathed against your ear.
he lifted one of your legs up, wrapping it around his waist in order to get a better angle as he thrust desperately into you. the praises leaving his mouth never stopped, only getting less and less intelligible as his arousal grew.
"o-oh, gyu ... right there ..."
"there? fuck ... baby likes it when i fuck her right there?", his taunts were followed by harsher thrusts, causing your nails to dig into his bare arms, "a-ah, shit! 'm baby's gonna leave her mark on me, huh? yeah ... go ahead, pretty. let everyone know i'm yours .."
"m-mine!"
"mhm, gorgeous, just like you're all mine," he opted to carry you now, holding you up against the wall as he moved your body to his pleasing, "fuck, wish i could mark you. show everyone who you belong to," he buried his face in your neck, simply opting to breathe in your scent as he landed soft kisses on the length of your neck.
"do it!," you begged mindlessly, "please? wan' everyone t-to know 'm yours," you babbled.
"fuck," he groaned before following your direction and beginning to nip at the naked skin of your neck. quickly he left a few blossoms of red on your skin, knowing that the moment you went out there, people would be able to spot a few from afar.
with his face buried in your neck, he timed himself so he could orgasm with you, having mastered the art of playing with your clit just at the right time to synchronize your highs.
mingyu stayed glued to you for a while, unwilling to let go as he panted against your neck, attempting to even out his breathing.
"how are you gonna go and perform out there completely out of breath and with scratches on your shoulders?", you giggled.
"i ... oh, fuck."
it was too late for him to realize that although you wouldn't be too scrutinized for your disheveled appearance due to your performance being over with, he, on the other hand, would still have to go out there and dance in front of a huge audience. the error of his ways was lost on him the moment he hardened under his pants at the mere sight of you dancing.
but hell, it had been worth it.
"baby, just ask your stylist for a jacket, okay?", you disconnected from him, knowing it was almost time for him to perform.
you pulled your clothes back together, wincing at the feeling of his cum dripping out of you and grabbing some nearby napkins to clean yourself as much as possible, as well as him. once the two of you were presentable, you gave your boyfriend a kiss for goodluck and headed back to your seat while mingyu walked over to his members backstage.
though no dramatic dating scandal broke out that day, various rumors questioning mingyu's lustful eyes during your performance began sparking up, with some people making the connection in the timeline of his mishap and your sudden reappearance in the crowd, with a messy, post-sex look accompanying both you and mingyu.
despite hybe ignoring any and every article insinuating anything between the two of you, you had now created a subsection of fans who were dedicated to unveiling what they were sure (and correct) was a secret love affair between the two of you.
#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x reader#svt fanfic#svt x reader#seventeen#seventeen imagine#svt#seventeen oneshot#seventeen smut#svt smut#svt scenarios#seventeen scenarios#mingyu scenarios#mingyu fanfic#mingyu oneshot#mingyu scenario#mingyu imagines#mingyu smut#mingyu x reader
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•*⁀➷ interlinked
summary: lil blurb, cuddling w kate after practice
request: no / yes
warnings: none, absolute toothache fluff
a/n: tired as hell writing this so i hope it’s fire.. and tysm for the love on my other fics!!
——————————————————————————
you sat on the bed as kate finished up her night routine. she had finally come home from her practice, and you refused to fall asleep until she was here. kate came home looking typically exhausted; you urged her to take a calming shower and then the rest of the night could be spent intertwined. it was apparent that she was in a rush, the way she was frantically brushing her wet hair and drying it.
finally, she was done and walked toward you and the bed. kate was ready to just climb and collapse in your lap.
“wait, baby lemme lay down first,” you said softly, giggling at the desperation to be close to you. kate groaned tiredly as you scooted back to the headboard. you held your arms open as she crawled onto you. before settling onto you, she kissed you softly on your lips, then tried to get another on your chin. kate could never steal enough kisses.
it always felt so right cuddling with kate, the way she would naturally melt into your arms with her head on your chest. the warmth your bodies created made you want to stay that way forever, tangled up with her. it was addicting to hear her breathing slow down and watch her weary eyes flutter shut. the lazy kisses never failed to make your heart swell. your hand always found its way to her shiny hair, gently stroking small pieces. either that, or slowly running your hand up and down her back.
this time, the smell of kate’s body wash was floating in the air. you loved deeply breathing in her scent any time of day, but especially after she showered. you brought your face down to sniff her hair, which made her giggle and hide her face in your chest.
“you’re such a weirdo,” she teased.
“sorry kate,” you said, smiling dumbly.
before bringing her face back up, she peppered small kisses along your chest. it was several pecks later before her beautiful eyes met yours again. continuing to stroke her hair, you felt her gently gripping at the fabric of your shirt. she kept her big blue eyes on yours before looking away, but keeping her head angled up towards you. nothing needed to be said except for comfortable silence; solitude in hanging onto each other.
“practice was so annoying. i was just thinking about you the whole time,” kate admitted, breaking the silence. sometimes she wanted to talk about it, sometimes she didn’t. you could hear the tired rasp in her voice, and didn’t want to pry.
“mhm… well i’m always here waiting for you when you’re done.”
kate smiled and closed her eyes against your chest. she moved her leg so that it was draped over yours. her hand also came up to the ends of your hair, lazily twiddling it and murmuring about how soft it is.
“even if you had practice at like… really late… and came home at like 2 a.m i’d still be awake. i swear,” you said, giggling but telling the truth.
kate laughed at your ridiculous comment and brought her eyes back up to yours. they were half lidded and heavy, but open just enough to stay looking at you.
“you know you don’t have to do that.”
“but i want to do that.”
she hummed and pulled you closer, if that was even possible. taking one big sigh, you knew kate was ready to fall asleep.
“i’m soooo tired,” kate said in her raspy voice.
“just go to sleep,” you whispered.
kate almost instantly fell asleep at your words, still holding onto you tightly. you gave her one last kiss on the head before drifting off to sleep.
#kate martin#kate martin fic#kate martin edit#kate martin x reader#kate martin fanfic#kate martin fluff#wnba#las vegas aces#wbb#iowa wbb
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dingdong hear me out, cregan and reader going through the honeymoon stage of their marriage in winterfell where he just cant get off her and they get it on (she gets on should i say 😜) EVERYWHERE and ANYWHERE. im talking in the stables just out of earshot of the lords in the courtyard, in the wolfswood surrounded by the beautiful northern countryside, in the council chambers, on the table, EVERYWHERE. I KNOW this man gets hot knowing anyone could catch them and that they couldn’t do anything about it because he is their lord. PLEASE GIVE THE PEOPLE WHAT THEY WANT 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏
- fellow cregan worshipping anon xo
I HAVE THOUGHTS. THE GEARS ARE TURNING. I FEEL THEM TURNING. SEND HELP ANON.
Let's get something perfectly clear, my beloved, the honeymoon stage never ends with Cregan. Now, it might slow down after the birth of a few kiddos ten but in no way, shape, or form will your Lord Wolf ever be satisfied. That being said, you have my prayers, sorrows, and congratulations also my envy ofc if you both are ever caught getting your freak on. It's gonna go a little something like this...
ʜᴏɴᴇʏᴍᴏᴏɴ. (thoughts ver.)
NSFW stuff under the cut. 18+ only. I'm not responsible for the content you choose to consume. ty.
₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊
"We're going to—"
"I don't care." He grunts. Skirts lifted up the curve of her ass, his hips rutting into her at a pace desperate enough to bruise. They were both frantic, fucking like it was their last day alive. The council room was empty—which it usually was; only really filled when Cregan felt the need to call on his vassals. If it had been a regular day, Lord and Lady Stark wouldn't have had anything to worry about.
His wife presses her cheek down on the table, holding onto the oak edges for dear life, mewling of course, as he rocked into her like a man possessed. Controlled entirely by his need, by her whines for him, Cregan thought he could die a happy man right there in her snug cunt. He could. He wanted to, in a way, the last sensations in the living world being her velvety walls, clenching around him with every swift thrust.
They were loud as they always were—unintentionally. It was too good to remember any restraint. Not that it mattered to the Lord Wolf, he was the Lord paramount of the North. Who was going to tell him he couldn't make love with his wife? No one, but he could at least make an effort to lock the door first. Rabid grunts and the sound of his hefty balls slapping against her flooded the corridor as the entrance to the council room was opened. "Seven Hells—"
His bannermen. His vassals. The meeting. Gods. He forgot about the meeting. Torrhen Manderly turned right back around, narrowly avoiding whatever it was that Cregan flung towards the door—thankfully fast enough to stop the other men from following in after him. "Get out!" The door was promptly slammed shut, right as his wife lifted her head from the table, face flushed red in mortification. "Were we just cau—fuck!" Lord Stark still didn't care, reaching around to rub at her pretty clit as his cock resumed pistoning against her ass. And as she came for at least the third time that morning, the realization of getting caught was quickly erased from the front of her mind, Cregan's teeth latching on to the curve of her shoulder as he chased his release.
okay I can't help myself so here's a bonus bit:
Redressed and thoroughly embarrassed some twenty minutes later, Lady Stark emerges from the council room, expecting her handmaiden to be waiting—no. Gods. They'd waited. They'd actually waited. Seven bannermen, each one avoiding her eye more than the last, probably in an attempt to maintain whatever was left of her dignity. They made not a single sound as she walked sprinted by, nodding stiffly in respect to their Lady.
Cregan, however, did not share that same sentiment. Satisfied for the moment, smug, and seated lazily at the head of the table, legs spread comfortably as he sat back against his chair. He exhaled quietly through his nose once his vassals entered the room, the smallest of smirks written on his face that said more than his mouth ever could. "Where did we leave off last time?"
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#hotd#dingdonganswers#house of the dragon#cregan stark#cregan stark x reader#cregan stark imagine#cregan x reader#cregan stark x female reader#cregan stark fanfic#🙏 anon
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to be honest, idk how you did it but you truly got me stoked over heian era husband! sukuna. i hate the man with most passion (bcs of what he did in the manga), but i couldn't help but giggling, crying, kicking my feet with butterflies in my stomach every time i read your husband!sukuna stories. your writings are *chef's kiss*, i read all of those more than twice already.
idk if you're currently open for request or not, but i want to ask, are you comfortable writing angst/hurt no comfort stuffs? bcs my mind keeps imagining what and how the husbands (gojo, geto, sukuna, nanami) react to their wife (y/n) got klled right in front of their eyes? perhaps bcs of their enemies or something, the enemies know you are their weakness (imagining sukuna, the king of curses, who's feared by most, or satoru who's known as the strongest — turns out have a weakness that he himself perhaps is not aware of is so mindblowing(?)) anyway, you don't have to write it if you're unable to, no worries and no pressure!!
"YOU— WHO I HAVE LOVED TILL LOVE BURNED"
— when you die in front of gojo, geto, nanami, and sukuna
a/n: hehe i am so glad that you like my heinaera!sukuna MWUAH 💕 we gotta ignore what he is doing in the manga 🧍♀️ also sorry in advance y’all, but I lowkey had a blast writing this; hope you like this anon <333
GOJO SATORU:
satoru stood outside the operations room, anxiously tapping his feet on the floor.
he clutches his hands tightly, and his eyes are trained on the door, fixated on your cursed energy that he can feel through the door.
you were going into labor, after long 9 months of waiting.
the two of you were going to finally meet your baby girl. the same girl that the two of you would talk to at night, whispering and giggling amongst yourselves.
he knew that the pregnancy was hard on you, and that’s part of the reason why he is relieved that this day has come.
the moments are long agonizing, and what kills him on the inside are your screams of pain as you try to push out your daughter.
he wanted, so desperately, to be with you in the room, but the doctor decided against it; they thought that it would be better to free the room as they worried that there might be a risk in the labor.
that worried him, but he had no choice but to abide by what they said. finally, the sun smiles upon him, and he hears the cry of his daughter.
he stands up, grin overtaking his face, and eagerly awaiting being let in.
he waits.
and he waits, but nothing happens, and he stops the first nurse that goes out the room, “what is happening? is my wife okay?”
the nurse splutters and nods, before dashing to another room. he doesn’t believe her for one second, and so, he tries looking into the room through the windows on the door.
he can’t see anything, but he can still feel your cursed energy. that’s the only thing that calms him down.
but, he can’t find it in him to sit back on the chair. he leans on the wall beside the door, and his nails dig into his knuckles, almost making them bleed.
he doesn’t snap out of it, until the doctor walks out, lowering his mask, “mister gojo—”
he walks past the doctor and heads inside.
“y/n!” he calls out, but he is met with the sight of the nurses covering your figure with a white cloth. his eyes widen, and he grips the wrist of one of them, “what are you doing? she is not dead.”
the nurse’s brows furrow, and her expression turns into of one of pity. he snaps his head towards you then at her, “she is not dead. I can feel it.”
he can still feel your cursed energy, so they must be wrong.
he looks down at you and cups your face gently. he moves your face to his direction, and he whispers, “pretty girl, you did so well, but you gotta wake up now.”
your face is limp in his hand, and his eyes grow frantic, “y/n?” he urges, “please say anything, yell or scold me even.”
he rubs his thumb across your cheek as he chuckles nervously, “love, I can feel your cursed energy. the prank you’re playing is a bit too much, no?”
“mister gojo,” one of the nurses calls out, “I think it’s from her.”
he looks up, and he sees your daughter in the nurse’s arms. she is wailing loudly, and—the nurse is right—she is emitting your cursed energy or remnants of it, he realizes now.
“mister gojo, you need to have skin-to-skin contact with your daughter,” she speaks softly, gently handing the little girl to him.
he takes her, wordlessly, and he mindlessly opens his chest to hug his daughter to it.
the nurses exit the room, and satoru is left to stare at you.
he sits on the bed, one arm holding your daughter and the other hand holding your face. he speaks up lowly with a small and quivering smile, “wifey, come on, wake up. our daughter is here.”
said girl lets out a small huff, and satoru finds himself biting his lip as he lays his forehead on your own.
“come on, y/n,” he begs, “she even looks exactly like you,” he pulls you closer, “you cant do this to me—please, not you too.”
GETO SUGURU:
the businessman sighs, “I won’t pay more than what I offered. geto. my words are final.”
“and who are you to be making orders? geto asks, resting his elbows on the desk, “I could kill you with the flick of a finger, so either you give me the two million yen—I know you can provide—monthly, or you can say goodbye to this life and empire you built.”
the man taps his palm and sighs, “I assume that we won’t be reaching the outcome I want?”
geto tilts his head with a smile, “come on, you still have the power of choice.”
the man stares at geto for a second before speaking up, “your wife is a lovely woman,” he grins, “too bad she has to depart so early.”
at the moment, for the first time since that incident, geto feels his heart drop to his stomach.
he jolts up, grabbing the man by the collar and slamming him into the nearest wall, “what nonsense are you spouting?”
geto’s grip on the man’s throat quickly tightens.
the man is barely able to choke out his reply, “y—your dear sweetheart has been poisoned, since she went to your ‘usual’ café spot, and my men were there,” he grins manically, “better go and try to get your goodbyes, while you’re at it.”
your husband throws him on the floor and releases his most brutal curses to eat him. the man’s screams are ignored, as geto hurriedly runs to the café.
his heart beats violently against his chest. how did his curses not notice anything? how could he let you be in danger?
he slams the door open and yells out, “y/n?! y/n, do you hear me?!”
the café is empty, and the only person present there is you. the others having long fled.
you look so pained, letting out labored breaths and furrowing your eyebrows in discomfort. he kneels beside you and gathers you in his arms. he rises to his feet, but halts when you let out a pained shriek.
“I am sorry, honey, I know, just hold on,” he comforts. you shake your head and bury your face into his chest. he tightens his embrace on you and quickly starts running out.
“suguru, it hurts—moving hurts,” you cry, and it makes him kiss the top of your head firmly while nodding, trying to comfort both himself and you.
he thanks the heavens that he arrives at the estate, and he gently places you on the bed. he looks back at manami, “call all the healers and doctors, now!”
he looks down at you, and he grips your hand with it and presses it to his lips. he murmurs softly, “you will be okay; don’t worry,” he clutches your shirt.
he repeatedly apologizes and brings you fully into his arms. he watches your breathing slow down, and he feels your skin get colder. your expression starts to relax little by little.
it sends geto into a frenzy. he snaps, “where are the doctors?! why is no here yet?!”
manami runs inside and pants, “a-all the doctors have been k-killed.”
geto stops feeling the tips of his fingers, and he looks down at you. he starts breathing frantically, “then get anyone! anyone who knows about poison!” he cups your face and shakes you lightly, “y/n, please open your eyes.”
“suguru,” you say weakly, and he instantly lowers his head, so he can hear you better. you whisper softly, “I love you.”
he nods repeatedly, “and I love you too, so you have to stay awake, so we can say it again, yeah? come on, y/n.”
he moves your hair away from your face, his hands shaky as he falters, “can you say it again? one more time.”
your body stills in his arms, and he shudders, “just o-one more, y/n…” he closes his eyes, burying his face in your chest. your arms are limp, and he is left hugging your body.
everybody stays silent, and they watch geto not leave or loosen his hold on you.
he looks up slowly at manami and speaks lowly, “round up everyone that had an affiliation to that scum; those filthy monkeys will pay for what they have done.”
NANAMI KENTO:
nanami heaves a sigh of relief when he spots yuuji, “are you okay?”
the young boy nods frantically, and nanami looks around him then at yuuji again, “is y/n not with you? have you seen her? anywhere?”
yuuji shakes his head, regretfully, but nanami takes a deep breath, “it’s fine; let’s search for her together, okay?” he assures.
yuuji smiles and nods, determined, “yes!”
nanami barely manages a reassured nod of his own, his mind focused on finding you. in fact, he starts running, eyes quickly scanning each street and corner for any sight of you.
he clenches his jaw, remembering what you said before taking this mission.
“kento, I have a really bad feeling about this.”
he dismissed your worries and pulled you close, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. he hummed softly, “I know, but we have to do it. if things go bad, then we have gojo present anyway.”
gojo is not present. shibuya is slowly turning into a city full of blood and corpses, both non-sorcerers’ and sorcerers’. he regrets not listening to you, but what else could’ve been done?
all he can do right now is find you and make sure you’re okay. that is his first and most important priority.
“nanamin, I found her!” yuuji screams excitedly, pointing at you who was busy thwarting off the myriad of curses charging at you. at the sight of you, nanami’s body relaxes, and he lets out a small smile.
you punch a curse back to a building, so you can finally turn to your husband.
“kento!” you grin and start running towards him. you throw yourself into his arms, and he—as always—catches you. he pulls you close and takes in your presence, burying his face into your hair.
he lets out a small breath.
“I am so glad you’re okay,” he says, but then he feels a strange wetness on his hand. he pulls away slowly and looks down at it. his eyes widen in alarm.
it’s covered in blood.
he looks up at you and mutters, “y/n, are you hurt? where are you hurt?”
“I—I don’t know,” you look up at him, “I can’t feel anything, k—kento; I don’t want to die,” you plead, and he quickly tears off a part of his suit to cover your wound and trying to stop the bleeding.
yuuji quickly goes to try and find shoko.
he hugs you closer, applying pressure to the wound, while pressing gentle kisses to your hair, “you…you won’t; don’t worry.”
you grip his shirt weakly and look up at your husband. you manage a small smile, “have I told you how handsome you are?”
he chuckles weakly, trying to stabilize his voice, “mhm, but I would like to hear you say it again tomorrow; can you do that?”
you nod slowly, “yeah…”
he stays silent for a second and grips you a bit tighter, “do you promise?”
your breathing starts slowing, “promise,” your body relaxes against his, and you feel his hand go to hold your own. he massages your ring finger and raises your hand to his lips.
you close your eyes with a smile, “I love you, ken.”
“I love you more,” he replies instantly. you stay still, and nanami embraces you with the entirety of his body, burying your face into his chest.
he clenches his jaw and whispers, “so much more.”
RYOMEN SUKUNA:
the king of curses dodges another attack with a full-blown smirk on his face. he swiftly turns and slashes the person till they drop into pieces. his chest heaves with excitement.
that is until he catches the smell of your blood.
he turns behind him, and he is greeted by a sight that he would usually take the time to relish in: a myriad of dead bodies, some piled on top of each other, and blood splattered and spilled everywhere.
he ignores of all that as his feet take him to where he senses your cursed energy.
he sees you standing in the middle of the bodies, and your stance is weak. you’re clutching your side, trying to stop the bleeding. he slowly walks towards to you and teases, “what happened? the queen got hurt?”
you let out a small chuckle, “shut up; it’s a minor injury, nothing worth noting.”
that is until the skin over your chest starts bubbling, and your heart explodes. the blood splashes all over him, and your body drops lifelessly to the floor.
sukuna’s eyes lock with your own blank ones, and he can’t process all the feelings he has.
his chest starts heaving particularly quickly, and his jaw clenches. he bends to his knees—something he never thought he would do—and raises your head towards his, searching for a glimpse of your cursed energy.
his eyes bore into your own as he speaks your name roughly.
“stop playing games, y/n!” he barked, shaking your head in his hand, but you grace him with no response.
“haha! I took out your dear wife; what will you do about it now, you monster?!”
sukuna eyes’ snap to where the voice came from.
he then decides that he will put that man through torture that is not even close to the amount of fury in his chest. sukuna is silent, as he gently lays your head down and walks towards the man.
the sorcerer’s smile starts crumbling, and he quickly falls on his back while trying to move away from sukuna.
“s-stay back, or I will kill you!” he attempts to threaten, but sukuna’s expression is blank. blank being a permanent furrowing of his eyebrows and his lips are pressed into a thin line.
the moment the sorcerer turns his back, trying to flee, sukuna cuts his feet.
sukuna doesn’t give him the chance to scream and wordlessly stomps on his back. little by little, he presses harder on the man under him.
he continues until he hears the cracking of bones and coughs full of blood. sukuna watches as the man tries to claw at his feet, in attempt to escape.
“I will make you suffer ten times over for what you have done.”
and it goes down in history as the biggest carnage sukuna has ever committed.
it didn’t stop at that man.
it extended to all the villages surrounding the vicinity. every sorcerer met a crueller death than the one before him. the single women were eaten, and the married ones were slaughtered.
no man was to enjoy what he was stripped of, and he would let the world remember your name along his through the passage of time, and he would make the temple he erected in your name stand tall forever.
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tsukishima kinks?
or choso kinks?
or aizawa kinks?
(sending a few options cause i’m sure you’ve already gotten these suggestions <3)
i've already got a tsukishima one i need to write but .... choso !!! aizawa !!! oh my god!!!! i've never written anything about either of them and i am sooo ready for this♡
choso
mommy/mummy kink- choso is a switch but leans more over towards sub. choso is very whiney in bed and is someone who becomes pussydrunk very easily when he's sleeping with you. during one of these pussydrunk moments he calls you mummy. he always has had the urge but resisted, worried that you won't like it but when he said it and you held onto him even tighter, wrapping your legs around him, a strangled groan came out of his mouth and he speeds up. as he comes he calls you mummy again, "gonna cum, gonna cum! fffuck mummy."
mutual masturbation- loves watching you touch yourself and will commit every gasp, touch and movement you make to memory for if he's ever alone for the weekend without you and most importantly for future reference with you, 'so touching her there makes her moan even louder huh' 'oh that made her toes curl' 'her body's shaking so much'.
choso loves watching your body writhe and squirm as you make yourself come while he's stroking his cock with rapt attention. he's inexperienced but his confidence about how good he is in bed gets boosted while mutually masturbating when you beg for more. beg for him. "please choso, please baby, i need more. want your cock s'bad. need you to touch me."
overstimulation- you milking him multiple times in succession without stopping?? yeah he likes that. he likes when you have control over his orgasms. he simultaneously wants more and wants less. bucking his hips up to meet your touch one second and the next trying to shuffle away, overwhelmed in the best way. tears filling his waterline, fists grabbing onto the sheets tightly. "t-to much!"
"i think you can take it cho"
edging- i mentioned before that he likes you having control of his orgasms so that also involves controlling when he gets to come and how many times you will deny him. "i can't anymore baby, please let me come. i've been good!"
aizawa
bondage- uses his binding cloth during sex!! tying you up in the bedroom and then leaving you there for awhile to do something else just to keep you waiting in anticipation. aizawa ties up your whole body and will also tie up just your arms and wrists on occasions too. he loves restricting your movements and watching you struggle against the binds. "there's no use struggling, you're not getting out until i want you too and before that i'm going to make you come on my tongue again."
daddy/sir kink- aizawa has an authorisation kink in general. loves taking charge and having you call him sir and daddy (sometimes even master) he will also sometimes call you kitten in response to your names for him. "sir please let me touch you! i'll be good! just let out of these binds."
choking kink- whenever he sees your eyes roll back and your breathing becoming gasps it makes him harder than he already was. his large hands wrapped around your throat, keeping you on the edge of consciousness. "so beautiful like that kitten, keep clenching around me."
somno- it's not a surprise that this is one of his kinks is it? all consensual of course but being woken up by you during sex is the best way to wake up. he also enjoys waking you up too but prefers it when he wakes up to you, especially when you're sucking his dick. his tired gravelly voice startling you as well as he gentle but firm hand on your head guiding you up and down. "fuck sweetheart, keep going just like that." you hum around his cock, letting you know you heard him. becoming wetter at the sound of his voice.
dry humping & thigh grinding- loves you being half clothed, only having underwear on, as you desperately hump and grind on him. it's a real power trip to watch you try and orgasm without any help as you frantically and pathetically rub yourself against him while he's still fully clothed and has no intention of changing that
#these are their kinks they told me on our first dates <333#i hope you like this ♡#♡ choso#♡ aizawa#♡ mine / writing#♡ lana's letters#choso x reader#choso smut#jjk smut#aizawa x reader#shouta aizawa x reader#aizawa x reader smut#bnha smut
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Hiiii!!! i absolutely love your writing and i wonder if you wouldn’t mind writing a james potter x fem!reader thingy. Basically where she is out with some
friends that are absolute dicks and basically they ‘dare’ her to walk home in the dark alone whilst she is drunk and she agrees became se she just wants them to like her but she realises how much of an idiot she is and so she walks to James’ house where he comforts her and stuff.
if not don’t worry
love you!!!!
changed the prompt up a little hope it's okay lovie <3 i also made it a bit long for my definition of a drabble but thats ok hopefully u think the more words the merrier luv u
𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢
⟢ james potter x fem!reader ⊹ 2.3k ⟢ warnings/tags: hurt/comfort, intoxication, social anxiety briefly mentioned, implications of how dangerous the situation was, for some reason i used this as an opportunity to practice writing imagery so sorry if it's too much
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
The sharp, crisp wind nips at your skin as you walk down the shadowy, deserted London streets, the echo of your heels clicking against the pavement being the only sound that punctures the eerie silence.
A misty breath passes your lips and you hug yourself a little tighter, your hands making futile attempts at smoothing the goosebumps that dot your arms. You mentally curse yourself for listening to your "friends" when they said a jacket would ruin your outfit, wondering if this was their plan all along.
More tears fall as your mind wanders back to the friends you thought you were making and the bitter wind swiftly dries them against your cheeks, leaving your skin tacky with the salty residue.
What was supposed to be an opportunity to forge new friendships with some girls from your class took a devastating turn when they all crammed into a taxi without you, leaving you tipsy and stranded with their parting taunts ringing in your ears.
"Wait, we won't all fit," you had jabbered facetiously, the gravity of the situation not yet apparent to your drunk mind as you clumsily stumbled towards the car, your heel catching on a crack in the pavement.
One of the girls snickered as she wrenched the door of the black cab open, "That's a shame, innit?"
"I suppose you'll have to find another way home," another girl remarked, the others laughing along, barely bothering to suppress their amusement.
The carefree smile you sported faded from your face, feelings of dread and alarm creeping up your chest as you murmured, "My phone is dead, I won't be able to call a car."
"Sounds like you'll be walking home tonight," one of them sneered with a cruel edge.
"W-what?" you stammered, your chest rising and falling with a frantic rhythm as the sobering situation sinks in, "Walking back to my flat would take close to an hour."
The last girl to pile into the car— the one who originally extended the invitation to their night out with warmth and enthusiasm— looked up at you from her seat in the taxi with a mix of feigned sympathy and cruel delight. Her eyes gleamed with sly satisfaction as she leaned out of the car and took the door handle into her grasp.
"Well, then you better start," she declared, her tone punctuated by a mocking laugh and the slam of the car door.
You wish you could say that there was a sudden flip in their behavior the moment the taxi pulled up, but the abrasive way they conducted themselves around you all night should have had you running ages ago. But your naivety and desperation to make friends clouded your judgement, you supposing that it might simply take more than one night for the girls to warm up to you.
The sound of the car screeching away still rings in your ears as you brave the streets alone, trudging in the opposite direction of your flat. The hour walk to your home— more if you walked along the safest path you could think of— was too daunting on your mind. Your desperation to get off the streets steered you to your boyfriend's instead, his flat being half as far as yours.
If it weren't for the overwhelming unease you felt, you might have been too embarrassed to face James tonight. But your nervous edge was enough to send you hastily fleeing to his flat, it being well into the A.M., and you being alone— dressed in an outfit you were only comfortable wearing around a swarm of girls you thought had your back— and barely able to hold your own after medicating your social anxiety with a few too many cocktails.
When you finally arrive at the familiar stoop to James' place, you feel a wave of relief wash over you as you stagger up the stairs, leaning heavily on the iron railing for support.
Your knocking is incessant as you mutter pleas under your breath, desperately hoping James is sleeping lightly tonight. It feels like more time has passed than it actually has by the time the door creaks open.
James appears in the doorway, clearly just out of bed. His hair is tousled more than usual, stray strands sticking out unevenly over his forehead, and his clothes are wrinkled from tossing around in his sleep. He straightens out his glasses that lay crooked over the bridge of his nose as he processes your presence, his face a blend of sleepiness and alarm.
You utter his name weakly, a fragile quiver that reveals your vulnerability and distress. James' heart breaks at the sound and he wordlessly pulls you inside and envelopes his arms around you. You let him pull you in and your hands find the plush cotton of his jumper, gripping onto it like a lifeline.
James' mind races with worry, trying to piece together what could have happened to put you on his doorstep, tearful and distraught, in the middle of the night. He knows that you had gone out for some drinks at some bar downtown. He also knows that you weren't supposed to be alone and that you were supposed to take a taxi home— these being the answers to questions he asked earlier to ensure your safety.
The possibilities of what could have went wrong fill him with a profound sense of dread, and he tries not to let himself get carried away with the nightmares that swirl around in his mind.
Wrapped in his arms, you kick your heels off to the side somewhere. The shoes were killing you, and one more second in them and you might have collapsed into a heap on the floor.
James can feel you tremble against him when you settle, a result of the cold and lingering fear from being outside, inebriated and alone.
"You're freezing," he whispers, his voice hoarse from his recent slumber and edged with worry as his large hands come to rub your arms. He frowns at the iciness of your skin.
It's James' first instinct to break the embrace and tug at his collar, pulling the jumper from his own back to drape its warmth over you instead, leaving him only in his joggers that hang lazily from his hips.
The cotton is still warm with his body heat when it cocoons you and the scent of him on the fabric brings you comfort. You sniffle pathetically when you meet James' large, sorrowful eyes that brim with concern as your head pops free from the jumper's collar. He smoothes the fabric over your body quickly before his hands climb up to your face.
The pads of his thumbs sweep away stray tears as he cups your face, his fingers brushing softly along your jawline as he tilts your head to meet his troubled eyes.
"What happened?" he asks, notes of concern in his voice as his thumbs trace soothing shapes into your cheekbones.
An anguished whimper sounds in your throat and more tears begin to spill. You shake your head, unable to find your voice to explain.
"That's okay," he murmurs, pulling you back into his chest as he cradles your head in his hands, "It's okay, my love, I'm here. You're safe."
He coos tender words of comfort and reassurance in your ear, his voice steady and soothing. One hand lowers to gently rub your back until the tremors in your body gradually subside and you begin to feel a sense of security build back up.
James only pulls away when the rise and fall of your chest slows to a steady rhythm. Brown eyes meet yours and he offers a reassuring smile. He murmurs words of beckoning and leads you deeper into his flat. He doesn't take you far, just to his sofa so he can get you off your feet. You're thankful, the blisters from your heels becoming almost unbearable to stand on.
Your boyfriend sits first, gingerly pulling you down onto his lap, both craving your closeness and understanding just how much you need him right now. You curl up with your legs folded in front of you and your knees drawn close to your chest, your side pressed snugly against his torso. One of his arms wraps around your back for support, while the other rests casually over your legs, his large hand comfortably settling on the back of your thigh.
His head lulls forward until he can nuzzle into your hair, his breath warm against your ear as he softly prompts, "Think you can tell me what happened now?"
You sniffle once, letting your lungs fill with air before you stammer into a hesitant explanation. Still embarrassed over the whole ordeal, everything comes out in a small, quivering voice, starting with the awkward tension at the bar and ending with the way they laughed as they cruelly left you on the curb.
A whirlpool of emotions rages in James' chest. He doesn't understand how anyone could be unkind to his lovely girl, and he certainly doesn't understand how anyone could be so heinous to leave a person alone on the street like that.
James swallows hard, his next question living on the tip of his tongue until he has the strength to ask it. His tone is unwaveringly serious, low and intense in its level of concern, when he finally does.
"Baby, please tell me you walked straight here. No one gave you any trouble?"
"No," you shake your head, "no trouble."
James feels his whole body relax at your words, and a noise hitches in the back of his throat as he releases a breath he didn't know he was holding. The overwhelming flood of relief and emotion threatens to bring him to tears, but he manages to hold them back. His eyes close briefly as he presses closer, his nose smooshing against the side of your head as he presses kisses behind your ear.
Your eyes flutter shut too as you allow James to cradle you in his arms. You think about how you almost tripped a few times, but you know that's not exactly what James is worrying about. Although, you can imagine he'd fuss over that too, checking your knees and palms for scuffs and kissing the skin there just because you could've hurt it.
As you feel the tension drain from his body beneath you, you think about how his fears mirrored your own.
"I was scared there would be," you admit in a small voice.
"I know my darling girl. I'm so sorry," he leans back, tilting his head to the side so he can meet your gaze. You don't miss how his eyes are glassy when they lock onto yours with calming intensity, "You're safe now, I've got you." He presses his lips to your forehead, lingering there as he mumbles, "I'm sorry this happened."
"I thought I was making friends," you choke out, the words cracking with the weight of the betrayal.
James feels his heart break all over again.
"Those girls don't deserve to have you as friend."
"But I want friends. It was so easy in secondary school. I've always had you, and Lily, Sirius, Remus. Everyone."
James listens intently, his sympathetic eyes gazing upon yours once again.
"I'm all alone at uni. And I don't why nobody likes me," you finish in anguish.
James promptly moves his hand from your thigh to cup your cheek, "Listen to me. You're lovely, so lovely. Anyone would be lucky to have you as a friend, alright? You're going to find people who think so too."
"And you have me," he corrects. "You still have all of us. I know things are different now, and I bet you're missing having friends in your classes, yeah? But uni's only just started. You're gonna find your people."
"You think so?"
"I know so, lovely girl," he says, his thumb flicking the tip of your nose endearingly, "I was already a goner the first time I spoke to you. And if I remember correctly, you and Lily were thick as thieves after one day of knowing each other. Right?"
You hum affirmatively, remembering the first days of friendship with the people you now call family.
"See? You're good at making friends. It's 'cause you're amazing, anyone with a brain can see that. Those girls are just bloody idiots." James' features take on a sour look when he thinks about them, but with you in his arms, he can't sustain his irritation for long— especially not with you smiling prettily at his words.
"There's that smile," he mumbles fondly, and your giggle is music to his ears. You stay like that for a moment, trading smiles and tender caresses.
Eventually, James' expression shifts, his brow furrowing as he becomes stern.
"Next time you go out, I'm gonna pick you up. I don't care how late, I don't care who you're with. And I'm buying you a portable charger for that phone."
"Okay, Jamie," you agree softly, recognizing the firmness in his voice that leaves no room for argument, and finding it a bit endearing how fiercely he cares for you.
He relaxes again with a sigh. His hand, which still remains cupping your cheek, pulls you a fraction closer.
"I'm happy you're safe, love. I'm happy you came here." Each of his words is wrapped with sincerity and affection. "I love you," he says earnestly.
"I love you too," you whisper, the same depth of emotion laced in your words.
He guides you even closer, meeting you halfway with a tender kiss to your lips. It's a beautiful blend of sweetness and innocence, a soft brush of lips that envelopes you in a blanket of sweet serenity, making you forget what it was ever like to be scared.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
#james potter x reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter#james potter hurt/comfort#james potter flangst#james potter fluff#james potter drabble#james potter oneshot#james potter fanfic#james potter fic#marauders#james fleamont potter#angst#hurt/comfort#james potter fanfiction#james potter imagine#fem!reader#marauders fic#marauders fanfic#marauders era fanfic#marauders era fanfiction#marauders era
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Dad's Best Friend!Miguel part 2
Summary: Your dad shows up unannounced, interrupting your romantic dinner with Miguel. He plants seeds of doubt in your pretty little head that Miguel is more than happy to snip off
Tags: DBF!Miguel x F!Reader, age gap, college age reader, P in V sex, size difference (smaller reader), brief under the table footjob, spanking, insecurities, vague mention of Miguel’s past relationships, uncomfortable relationship talk with your dad who means well but ends up making you feel like shit anyway
Word Count: 3.5k
A/N: Surprise! The second part actually exists. It’s been almost a year since part one and I kept teasing part 2 but I couldn’t think of a way to end it. I considered just abruptly cutting it off and post it but I just couldn’t do it. BUT HERE IT IS NOW. Hope you guys still enjoy it!
Part 1
It has been a week since Miguel has caught you masturbating to the thought of him. A week since you found out that he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. A week of absolute depravity that you thought only happened in porn. He fucked you all over the house; no room, furniture, or surface was left untouched during your vigorous lovemaking.
Unfortunately, his “sick leave” had to come to an end and so did your self-imposed break from uni. He’s going back to work the next day so you decided you were going to do something special and make the most of the last evening of his leave. Of course, there’ll be more times to fuck but you feel the need to give him something special before he goes back to his workaholic mode. Maybe it’ll encourage him to start coming home earlier.
You had everything planned. You and Miguel had a lovely early dinner that he helped you prepare. The way it was so easy to fall into a domestic routine made your heart flutter. You’d have to ask him if you can do this with him more often when he’s not so busy with work. You also had wine that Miguel picked out for both of you. You trusted his mature tastes even though you knew he preferred hard liquor. And for dessert, well…
“That’s it, gatita,” Miguel grunted in your ear, a deep growl rumbles from his chest as he rams his fat cock relentlessly into your greedy cunt. “Taking my cock so well. I’m gonna miss this when I’m at work tomorrow. Gonna think about your tight little pussy while I’m in a boring meeting.”
You can’t form any coherent words from how aggressive his thrusts were. Each thrust drove his cock deeper into you, his tip kissing your cervix, knocking the air out of your lungs and the words out of your little cock drunk brain. Your legs were wrapped around his waist and your arms holding his broad shoulders for support, hands desperately clawing at his back. You clung to him tightly as he fucked you standing up in the middle of the kitchen. He took full control of your body, his large hands on your waist, moving you up and down his cock as he pleased, like you’re his personal living cocksleeve.
“My little slut can’t even talk anymore,” he laughs at your pathetic whimpers and whines “Taking my cock like a good girl. Going to make sure you feel it until tomorrow.”
You bury your face in the crook of his neck panting, mumbling “please” over and over again against his skin. Your tits are pressed against him, sensitive nipples rubbing against the dusting of dark hair on his chest with every movement. The burning knot in your stomach is threatening to come undone.
“You’re gonna cum for me, princesa?” he said as his thrusts grow frantic. “Wanna feel your pussy milk my cock dry. She’s so greedy for my cum. Sucking me in so good I can’t even try to pull out.”
You arch your back as you feel your orgasm rip through you, making you see white for a second. Miguel catches you, an arm around your waist and the other around your shoulders to keep you from falling over as he keeps on rutting into you to chase after his own climax. He pulls you closer to him to capture your mouth into a kiss as you feel his hot cum coat your velvety walls. You moan against his lips, giving his tongue access to your mouth, making you melt in his arms.
You reluctantly pull away to catch your breath, resting your sweaty forehead against his. He coos at how absolutely wrecked you looked, the pretty makeup you did for him all smeared and messed up. The red of your lipstick is no longer on your lips but all over Miguel – on his lips, cheeks, neck, chest, trailing all the way down to the red ring near the base of his cock.
Miguel sets you down on the dining table, hands keeping your knees apart to watch his cum dripping out of your sloppy hole. Your hands grab your breasts, squeezing them together for his viewing pleasure. Miguel moans at the sight. You are so perfect to him.
“I’m going to see your dad again in the office tomorrow,” he says, kneeling in front of your spread legs, ready to eat his dessert. He licks his lips and rubs his large hands up and down your thighs “I’m sure he’s going to have questions. I’ll make sure to tell him how good you were, taking care of me and making me feel so much better.”
He was about to dive in when the doorbell rang. You hear him growl a string of Spanish curse words under his breath as he reluctantly stands up from where he was kneeling. He tries to calm down and you sit up to wipe the sweat and lipstick off his face. You help him put on his shirt, straightening it out as much as you can with your hands as he tucks away his half-hard cock in his sweatpants. You brush his messy hair back away from his forehead, trying to make him look presentable for when he answers the door.
“I’ll be quick,” he sighs, kissing you on your temple as he pulls away and walks out the room. You can’t help but be a little curious as to who is looking for Miguel this late in the evening. You try to stand up, snatching the silk robe you were wearing earlier to peek at the visitor when you hear an all too familiar voice echo in the halls.
“Miguel! You look like shit!” The loud booming voice of your father makes you stop dead in your tracks.
“Hey, I didn’t know you were coming over?” Miguel said, trying to act normal as you hear him letting your dad in. “You should’ve called.”
“Well I did try to but neither you nor my daughter were answering,” he said “Anyway where is she? I brought you guys your favorites for dinner. I’ll even set up the dinner table for you.”
That got you to snap back to reality. Shit, shit, shit!
You start running to your room, careful not to leave a trail of Miguel’s cum on the floor. You try to wash off any traces of sex with a quick shower and change into a simple shirt and unfortunately with a bra and shorts on this time. Can’t have your dad know you parade around the house half-naked for a man twice your age.
Downstairs, Miguel’s boner is fully killed. He didn’t even get to clean you up with his tongue. Shame. Your dad is talking about work stuff but he’s only half-listening. He helps him set the table for your second dinner of the evening, not able to turn down his best friend lest he gets suspicious. He eyes a few white drops on the table and reluctantly wipes it with the hem of his shirt. His eyes meet yours as you enter the room, drying your hair with a towel. You give him a tight-lipped smile before going in to greet your dad.
You have an okay dinner together: Your dad did most of the talking, which is usually what happens between him and Miguel anyway. He also is still under the impression that Miguel was actually sick so he got a pass. You however have to pretend you aren’t annoyed that the night you planned is ruined as you answer his questions about uni.
“No boys? Partners? I told Miguel not to let you bring any around,” he says smugly to which Miguel smirks, taking a sip of the whisky your dad brought over.
“Dad, please,” you groan, sliding down on your chair, which makes him laugh out loud. You steal a glance at Miguel, pouting, and he’s laughing along. Traitor.
“I just wanted to be sure my baby’s focusing on her studies,” he says, putting his hands up in surrender before adding “and that I don’t end up a grandpa too soon.”
They keep laughing but thankfully, Miguel changes the topic. You give him a look of relief and rub your foot on his leg as a silent thank you. He keeps talking to your dad, pretending not to feel your foot stray further up until it rests on his inner thigh, the tip of your toe toying with the outline of his cock. He grabs your ankle but doesn’t stop you. He instead moves to sit a little closer to the table so you can rub the sole of your foot against his clothed length.
You’re playing a dangerous game. Your dad is right there he could look under the table and find his precious daughter giving his best friend a footjob in front of the dinner and alcohol he so graciously brought over. But you were feeling petty about your ruined plans and Miguel doesn’t seem to mind the attention to his cock.
You bite your lip, feeling his cock harden under your touch. He must feel sticky and uncomfortable under his sweatpants after not being able to wipe his dick of your combined fluids when your dad barged in. You wish your dad decides to leave early so you could get on your knees for Miguel and lick him clean.
Miguel eventually excuses himself, coughing that he needs to go to the bathroom, probably to jerk off and shower. You start clearing up the table and your dad offers to help.
“So,” he starts wiping the table “I see the way you look at Miguel.”
You freeze, trying not to drop the stack of plates you’re holding.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You start loading the dishwasher, trying not to make it obvious that your hands are shaking.
“Hey, no need to get defensive. I know what I saw,” he says “And I mean, you’re a young single lady and Miguel is this handsome, cool, older guy that’s a constant in your day-to-day. It’s not wild to have a crush on him. I’m just…”
Silence.
“Sweetie, I’m worried about you. I don’t want you to get hurt when he doesn’t return your feelings,” he sighs as he leans his hip on the counter next to you. He’s trying to look you in the eyes, trying to let you know that he’s being sincere. “Believe me that man has no time for romance. He’s all busy with his work. Plus I’ve seen the women he slept with before. All supermodel looking and yet… well they never last long.”
“Thanks for the confidence boost, dad,” you roll your eyes at him, trying hard to ignore the feeling of wanting to throw up. You don’t want to think about that. About the specifics of what you and Miguel have going on. You’re just trying to enjoy Miguel’s attention right now. For the longest time, you didn’t even think you had the chance. Is it really that bad to just accept what he’s willing to give right now?
“I’m not saying you’re not beautiful, honey! Of course, you’re beautiful! You’re my daughter,” he tries to lighten the mood but turns serious when you don’t laugh. “Just might not be his type. Besides, he’s twice your age. He's too close to your old man’s age. Are you sure that’s something you’d like? In a few years, he’d be just as uncool as me while you’re still young and should be enjoying your life.”
He puts a hand on your shoulder and pulls you into a side hug. You both stay silent for a few moments. You think about Miguel and try to look for signs. Signs that say he just wants sex or that he wants something more. All you can think about is how sweet he always was with you even before you had sex. Even more now. You blush remembering how Miguel peppered your face with kisses this morning to wake you up because he wanted to cook breakfast but didn’t want to leave you in bed.
“Okay, but what if he does?” you countered, suddenly gaining a bit of confidence. “Would you be okay with that? If we get into a relationship?”
A painful few seconds of silence that felt like forever.
“I know that look in your eyes,” he finally says, shaking his head, and sighing. “It’s your “I’m going to get what I want” look you got from your mom. You’re gonna get hurt.”
You cross your arms and pout, never one to back down.
“And if he does end up liking you,” he starts again and you side-eye him “well… good thing he doesn't.”
You groan as your dad messes up your hair, laughing as he sees Miguel come back, fresh from his shower. Your dad finally decides it’s time to head out and let the sick man rest. He gives you a tight hug and a kiss on your forehead before leaving.
You’re left alone with Miguel again in the kitchen. The earlier conversation with your dad soured your mood and left you zoning out. Miguel slips himself between your parted legs as you sit on the kitchen counter, large, warm hands kneading your thighs, fingers slipping under the hem of your shorts.
“What’s on your mind, princesa?” He leans in to press his forehead against yours. “Tell me.”
You try to turn away but he brings a curled finger under your chin to make you face him. His brows are furrowed, worried. You try to look at him and your heart stutters. You don’t want whatever you have with him to end. You’re not sure if you actually want something serious with Miguel but the thought of just being a bedwarmer to Miguel is upsetting.
“Just thinking,” you start, trying to get the words out without sounding jealous or spiteful “My dad said you used to date? Sleep around with? Whatever. The girls you were with before were all… supermodel looking. They’re probably tall and skinny and drop-dead gorgeous huh? Is that your type?”
“And where is this going, nena?” Miguel whispers, pulling away and giving you a stern look.
“Well, I’m just not like that?” you say sheepishly, pursing your lips and shying away from his gaze. “I don’t know why you gave me the chance. I’m just-”
Miguel’s gentle touch on your chin turns into him gripping your cheeks, making you shut up. You nervously look at him, a deep frown on his face.
“Don’t you ever put yourself down, cariño,” he says, his eyes sharp. He makes you keep your eyes on him while he uses his other hand to pull you closer, making you wrap your legs around his waist. “You know, at the start, I offered to let you stay here just because I wanted to mentor you when I had the time. I know you’re a brilliant girl, so intelligent, following in your dad’s footsteps. What I didn’t expect is for you to consume my thoughts day and night for the past few months. You’ve grown into such a beautiful lady, cariño. You are such a temptation, making me think about your pretty eyes looking up so innocently at me. Those lips tempt me every single time you pout at me to get your way.”
He growls, finally letting go of your face to move his hands to your ass. He suddenly bucks his hips against yours making you gasp out loud, your clothed cunt rubbing against his growing bulge. You try to move your hips to gain friction on your throbbing cunt but he keeps you still.
“Don’t even get me started on this body of yours,” he buries his face at the crook of your neck, kissing, licking, nipping at the sensitive flesh making your head roll to the side to give him more access “So perfect for me. Made for me to grab, to fuck, to worship. Dios mio, nena, I can’t get enough of you.”
He sounds drunk from your scent and taste, mouthing at your neck, hands kneading your flesh. He grabs handfuls of the soft fat of your thighs, your ass, your tummy rolls, your plump tits, and back down, committing each curve to memory. You wrap your arms around his neck, eyes rolling to the back of your head in pleasure when he laps at your pulse with his skillful tongue.
“So I don’t wanna hear any of that nonsense comparing yourself to women I didn’t care about then and I sure don’t care about now,” he growls as he picks you up and flips you around. He bends you over the counter, stomach against the cold marble top and the rounded edges digging at the tops of your thighs. Your feet can’t quite reach the floor so you settle for trying to wrap your legs around Miguel’s own. He yanks your shorts and panties down to your knees in one aggressive motion.
“My silly beautiful girl getting jealous over old flings and exes,” he hummed, his large hands massaging your ass, kneading the cheeks, spreading them with his thumbs. “They’re not here anymore, are they? Didn’t work out with them and they’re not in my life anymore. And I prefer it that way.”
You feel him spit on your hole, dripping down to mix with your own wetness. You drop your head onto the countertop, the heated skin on your face making the marble feel icy. He takes your wrists, securing your hands behind your back with his own large hand while his other still massages your ass. Your eyes flutter, enjoying the sensation when you hear a loud smack cut through the momentary silence.
“Mig-” you yelp as you feel a sharp sting on your right ass cheek. His hand goes back to massaging, trying to soothe your reddened skin. You whine as he gives your other cheek the same treatment. Two matching red handprints bloom on both your cheeks.
“You shouldn’t be listening to your dad about my type when I was much younger,” he says, his voice low and serious as he leans down to press his sculpted chest on your back “Because right now there’s nothing I want more than this pequeña prinscesa whose toes can't even reach the floor when I bend her over the kitchen counter. You love that too don't you? How I’m much bigger than you? How easily I can carry you around, bend you over, and fuck you whenever I want? Love folding you in half and using your pretty pussy- no, my pretty pussy. This is mine. Mine to fuck. Mine to breed. Isn’t that right?
You nod enthusiastically not trusting your voice to speak. the words he growls at your ear going straight to your cunt. You feel another hard smack go down your ass, the impact making you slide a bit on the counter. His hands pull you back by the waist to press his erection against your dripping cunt, your wetness soaking through his sweatpants.
“Use your words when you answer me, nena,” he growls, grinding himself against your folds. The friction from the fabric of his sweatpants feels heavenly against your puffy folds.
“Yessss,” you whine, pushing your ass back against him “all yours. Need you to fuck this pussy please, please, please!”
“How can I say no when my baby girl is begging so nicely?” he coos, pulling down his sweatpants to free his cock. He takes it in his hand and presses the tip in. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull as your velvety walls welcome him back, still stretched out from your earlier activities.
“Perfect,” Miguel groans as he wastes no time to fuck into your slutty little hole that’s sucking him in so lewdly. “Made for me. Mi princesa needs to learn that no one can compare to her. She’s so perfect. And she’s mine. Only mine. And I am hers.”
“Yo-urs– M-ah, Miguel,” you whimper as he keeps hitting all the right places, his tip hitting your sweet spot with each hard thrust until you’re once again pushed over the edge of sweet release. Your gummy walls contract, milking Miguel’s cock as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. He follows shortly after with a deep moan, his cock coating your insides with his warm seed.
Miguel makes no move to pull out. Instead he peppers your shoulders and neck with kisses, humming in contentment, whispering sweet endearments. Your heart fills with warmth and before you could even think about it, the words just leave your mouth.
“I love you, Miguel”
Silence. Anxiety starts to bubble in your chest as you start to think that you’ve read all the signs wrong. But before you could take it back, Miguel turns you to lie on your back, facing him. He leans down to capture your lips in his, his hands pulling you closer as if he was afraid you’d leave if he lets go. He mumbles “I love you” against your lips over and over again for the rest of the night making sure you never doubt his feelings for you ever again.
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o'hara#spiderman 2099 x reader#miguel x reader#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel ohara x reader#miguel o’hara x you#miguel ohara#potchy-writes#dbf!miguel#dad's best friend miguel ohara#dilf miguel ohara
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Crybaby
Old Man!Logan Howlett x Female!Reader Rating: M (Mature but as always-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT) Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, crying, not much else Word count: A little over 2k Synopsis: Taking care of an ailing Charles and pining after Logan is exhausting and crying about it seems to be the only solution.(Set before the events of Logan) Author’s note: This is just two thousand words of me expressing how much I love Logan.... please enjoy P.S. I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on! Comments and reblogs make my day! Main Masterlist
You were sick of being a crybaby, really - you were.
But you couldn’t help it as your throat closed up and your eyes filled with hot tears.
You couldn’t help it as the torrent of emotions within overwhelmed you.
Rushing into your room and shutting the door behind you- isolation your only solace but also the knife in your heart. But you couldn’t let Logan see or hear you cry.
It had been a rough day altogether.
Caring for an ailing Charles was challenging on his best days and miserable on his worst. And today was one of those worst days.
The disease in his brain turned the normally kind and gentle man into a confused, desperate person who could say the most vicious things to cope with the hell of it all.
At times, when the medicine wore thin and you frantically practiced barely there patience as you waited for Logan to bring a restock, Charles could read your mind. It wasn’t the way he used to, more like he got flickers of your internal monologue. And he used it against you.
“You ridiculous girl, he’s never going to love you, you might as well give up,” he said as he glared at you.
They shouldn’t have, but the words hit you like a dagger in the heart.
“Charles, please just let me help you get in the bed. Aren’t you tired?” you begged.
“He resents you, just like I do,” the elderly man said.
The dagger twisted.
You took deep breaths but couldn’t prevent the tears that filled your eyes.
“Charles, that’s okay, let’s just get you to bed. You’ll feel better in the morning,” you coaxed, certain that desperation and pain were evident in your gaze.
A flicker of the old Charles appeared as you saw regret flash in his eyes.
He let you assist him in settling into his bed.
“I hate it here,” he said, his voice petulant in a near childlike way.
“I know,” you said gently as you pressed a kiss to his forehead and pulled the blankets up to his chin.
The door behind you opened and you breathed a sigh of relief as you heard the sound of Logan’s shuffling gait.
“Hey,” you breathed out as you looked over at him.
Everytime you saw him it took your breath away, like a punch in the gut. He was beautiful in a way that hurt, the kind of beauty that felt too far from reach.
He walked up and without a word pulled Charles’ medicine out of a bag and handed it to you.
“Thank you,” you said quietly as you looked up at Logan. He just nodded, lips pursed and brow furrowed.
Charles looked at you in a knowing pointed way that you ignored.
“Take these first,” you murmured to Charles.
You handed Charles the pills and he began to protest but Logan snapped, “Listen to her. Take the damn pills Charles.”
Charles grumbled but then did as he was told.
You gently reached for his arm, turned it over, and inserted the needle.
Charles’s breaths soon became slower as his eyes fluttered closed.
You trailed behind Logan and stared at his broad shoulders as he walked out and made his way to the main living area.
With a grunt shucked off his coat and sat down at the kitchen table. He tossed the bag he held of additional supplies on the table as he did so.
“Logan, a-are you okay? Whose blood is that?” you gasped as you took in his blood soaked button-down.
“M-fine,” he grunted and shook his head.
You stepped closer and reached for his shirt but he batted your hand away.
“Logan,” you protested.
He held onto your hand and your breath caught at the scrape of his callouses as his much larger hand enveloped yours in warmth.
“I don’t need any help, sweet girl,” he said as his gorgeous hazel eyes met yours. You wanted to rub your thumbs across the wrinkles in his brow. You wanted to run your fingers through his salt and pepper hair. You wanted to trace the curve of his plush bottom lip.
You took a shuddered breath as you attempted to control the impulsive part of your brain and stop yourself from reaching out and touching his handsome face.
“Are you hurt?” you asked.
He sighed deeply. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not your problem.”
He let go of your hand and suddenly it felt so cold.
“I can help,” you said.
“Look, you’re here to take care of Charles. I don’t need you to fuckin’ baby me. I’m capable of caring for myself, okay?” he snapped.
You blinked rapidly and looked down to avoid him seeing your eyes fill up with tears. You really didn’t want to be called a crybaby for the second time in a week- Charles had thrown that insult at you only a couple of days ago.
“Okay sorry,” you muttered and swiftly made your way to your room.
You made sure to shut the door behind you. You plopped on your bed and covered your mouth to muffle your sobs. You didn’t want Logan to overhear you, it would be too embarrassing.
Your heart ached. Your love for Logan had turned into something rotten inside your chest.
What started as an innocent crush on the older man had transformed into an intense years long ache that sat deep within your soul. There was no resolution, no other man for you, nowhere else to direct your affection and yearning.
And Logan wouldn’t even let you give it to him. He held you at arms lengths, well- most of the time. Every once in a while, when you could only assume he was feeling particularly vulnerable - he gave you a drop of gentleness. It only fueled the torch you held for him as the ache only became stronger.
You didn’t understand why he wouldn’t or couldn’t just let you in. At times you felt you saw a glimmer of the real him beneath the gruff exterior, but he always covered it up with even more grumpiness.
To you, Logan hung the moon. You loved everything about him, even when he frustrated you to the point of wanting to scream, even when his harsh words made you cry, even as you watched him age from poisoning from the metal within his body, even as you watched him work himself to the bone and destroy himself with an extended lifetime of detrimental habits like over-drinking, smoking, and fighting.
You loved him unconditionally and you didn’t understand why he wouldn’t just let you.
He worked so hard to care for you and Charles. You just wanted to take care of him for once, to treat him with the gentleness he’d been so starved of for centuries, to drench him in your care.
But you couldn’t. So you ached, and ached, and ached.
Charles was right, you decided. Logan would never love you.
Tears streamed down your face as you choked on your sobs.
If Charles was right about that then maybe he was right that Logan resented you. Maybe he only kept you around because he couldn’t manage caring for Charles himself.
Maybe he wished you weren’t around.
You pressed your hand harder against your mouth as the despair wrapped itself around you like a dark cloak as you wept.
This unrequited love was becoming more than you could handle. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything different. There was no possible way you could walk away. You would take the scraps you received from Logan because it was better than nothing at all.
There was no happy ending in this for you, no resolution.
A knock at your door broke you from your spiraling thoughts.
You hiccuped and quickly wiped away your tears.
“Y-yeah?” you called out.
Logan opened your door and stepped into the room.
“Didn’t mean to make ya cry,” he grumbled.
“M’not crying,” you mumbled as you scrubbed away the last of the tears.
He gave you a deadpan look that made you huff a small laugh.
“It’s pretty easy to make me cry,” you muttered the joke at your own expense.
He cracked a small smile. He looked at you expectantly as he waited for you to explain.
“It was just a tough day,” you explained. “Charles was just… well you know how he gets sometimes. He was pretty mean. I know he didn’t mean it. And then you…”
You trailed off as you looked up at him.
He moved from leaning against the wall and sat at the end of your bed.
He reached over and placed his hand over yours where it sat in your lap.
You looked at him with wide eyes.
“I don’t want you to worry about me,” he said, his voice soft and low.
“I- I can't help it,” you said.
He sighed.
“Why does it upset you that I worry about you? That I want to help you? To take care of you?” you asked with more boldness than you’ve ever shown him.
He pressed his lips together and swallowed. His head ticked to the side as he glanced away from you, clearly uncomfortable with the vulnerability you were asking of him.
The silence stretched long.
“It makes me feel old- like less of a man. Makes me feel like you think I can’t take care of you the way a man should,” he finally admitted.
You were pretty certain your heart made an audible cracking sound.
You gripped his hand and moved closer to him on the bed, close enough that your knees knocked against his.
You placed a hand on the side of his face, your sensitive fingers brushed against his coarse beard and marveled at the fact that he let you.
“I would never think of you that way. You do take care of me. I just worry about the stress that Charles and I put on you. I just want to help. I care about you - so much.”
He nuzzled his face into your hand.
“You do help. More than you know,” he murmured.
Another tear slipped from your eye and he wiped it away.
“My sweet girl, my little crybaby,” he said with amused affection and you choked on a laugh.
“Lo-“
“You don’t want this- me. You deserve a better life than this old man can give you,” he said.
You shook your head.
“I don’t want any life that doesn’t have you in it,” you said fervently.
The hand he had on the side of your face slipped to the back of your head. He moved as he pulled you towards him and then his lips were on yours.
Your heart pounded and threatened to burst from your chest.
He kissed you- Logan was kissing you and it was better than you ever imagined.
The press of his lips against yours was firm and yet gentle, the plush of his lips gave way as you moved your lips against his, as you sunk into the kiss.
Your eyes filled with tears for what felt like the hundredth time of the day. This time the cause was joy. You felt like you were flying as you finally received the affection from him you’d been so desperate for after years of pining for him.
The kiss could’ve lasted seconds or it could’ve lasted a lifetime - it didn’t matter, no time with Logan was enough.
He poured his love into your lips, into the tangle of his tongue with yours as he explored your mouth. All the unspoken words no longer needed as you tasted one another, as your hands gripped each other tightly, as you felt at home in one another’s arms.
And when you finally broke apart, lips
curved into smiles, tears in both your eyes, it was as if the world had stopped just for the two of you.
In this little moment with his forehead pressed against yours as your breaths mingled, life was perfect.
The challenges of today and tomorrow were infinitesimal when you had one another. That kiss sealed your promise - that you would both take care of one another, forever.
#logan howlett#wolverine#old man logan#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#old man logan x reader#old man logan x you#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#logan x reader
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cancer's a bitch
masterlist
natasha romanoff x reader
2.3k words
warnings: reader has cancer and there's no happy ending. major character death
summary: at a time you need her the most, Natasha is nowhere to be found
“The results came back positive. I’m sorry. The next steps will be to start…” You couldn’t hear anything past that. It became white noise to the thrumming of your heartbeat in your ears, an instant emphasis of your ebbing mortality.
You knew about all the treatments your doctor was trying to explain to you, you had been on a deep dive down the web about them every night since you first went seeking help about your suspicions. Now that they were confirmed, you wondered who you should tell first. How could you even begin to find the words to tell anyone that you had cancer?
That was all you could think about on the journey home. Natasha would be there and you weren’t sure whether to tell her outright or wait for the right time. You wouldn’t know how much of that you had until you knew how your body took to the treatment. Best case scenario, the chemo would nip it in the bud and never return. It would be a thing of the past before you could fully process it as a terrifying present. Worst case scenario… Well, it didn’t do to think about it.
You needed to talk to Natasha.
When you finally got home, your heart plummeted further at the sight of your girlfriend packing. You knew that the frantic nature she took to grabbing items meant that she had been called on a last minute mission and that it was probably urgent. You also knew that she could be gone for some time. It could be weeks - weeks you would spend relaying the difficult conversation in your head. Weeks you could spend without her there to comfort you in your crushing fear for your life.
“Hey, babe,” you greeted as you hung up your jacket. If her mind wasn’t so preoccupied with work she would have asked where you’d been.
“Hi. Sorry I know we had plans tomorrow but I’ve been called away,” Natasha told you without looking your way, too focused on filling her bag as quickly as possible. You sat down on the edge of your bed and watched the redhead for a moment, debating whether or not to ask her not to go. You had never done that before, nothing had been that important.
“You think you could skip? I need to talk to you,” you muttered, threading your fingers together to stop them trembling.
“I can’t skip a mission for a date, detka,” Natasha huffed. You swallowed.
“It’s not that,” you said with a forced chuckle. “I’ve just been to the-”
“Y/n, I need to go,” she told you pointedly.
“There are other agents.” You didn’t mean it to sound like a plea, to sound like a child trying to convince their parents not to leave them on the first day of school.
“It’s important,” Natasha said, zipping up her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. “There are things going on that you don’t understand.” That hurt.
“Natasha please,” you tried, not caring how desperate you sounded. Still, she continued for the door. Maybe if she had looked at you properly instead of kissing your cheek in passing, she would have seen the worry written over your features in bold. “Please don’t go.”
“I love you, I’ll see you soon,” she called over her shoulder.
“I love you too but I-” you were cut off by the apartment door closing in your face. “I’m not well,” you whispered. She was already gone.
*
There were numerous people you could have called to pick you up from your first round of treatment. It was also highly recommended. You were exhausted, but taking a taxi home was the easiest solution, because it meant you didn’t have to tell anyone where you were.
It had been a couple weeks since your diagnosis and Natasha still wasn’t home. You still weren’t sure how to approach the subject with anyone you knew, counting on your girlfriend to hold your hand through the process. But she wasn’t there by your side and she wasn’t there to take you home.
Wanda would have been a good person to tell. She was the kind of friend who would drop everything to be with you when you needed her. She would have picked you up. She would have pulled over to hug you when you began to cry silently in the back of the taxi. She would have figured out a way to call Natasha home but she couldn’t…because she was imprisoned.
The battle of Leipzig airport hit the news by storm, as did everything that followed. Half were imprisoned and the rest were either on the run or playing lap dogs to the government, leaving you alone. Upon hearing that your girlfriend was an outlaw, you were able to piece together that you wouldn’t be seeing her for a long time. Nor would you see your friends. You were deserted.
You collapsed over the toilet once you were home, bringing up the contents of your stomach as your weakened knees groaned in protest from the impact. They were already bad - your legs - having been the area the cancer was attacking, but every short track you made seemed to make the pain worse. So much so that you were tempted to let the exhaustion overtake you on that very bathroom floor. You just wanted to close your eyes in hopes of having a short break from your reality.
Instead, with a small whimper, you forced yourself up and towards the bedroom. The sheets didn’t smell like Natasha because you had had to wash them a few days prior. You had sprayed some of her perfume on her side of the bed but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t her. Still, you clung to her pillow as if it was, imagining her strong arms wrapping around your frame tenderly. She always protected you in your weakest moments, except that one. Except the worst.
Weeks turned into months and things became considerably harder. The pain was progressing with the cancer, working its way deep into your bones despite the aggressive treatment you had. At the start, a bad day was not being able to make it into work. After months, a bad day was not being able to get out of bed. The treatment wasn’t working.
“We need to operate,” your doctor told you. You peered at the frown lines along his forehead, wondering how many people he had given that news to before you. How many people had sat in the chair you were in, listening to the doctor tell them their body was failing to fight off a biological evil? Were their loved ones sitting in that office with them, occupying the empty seat next to you? Were they waiting outside? Were they a phone call away? You should call your parents. Nothing buried the hatchet like telling your parents you were dying, right?
You didn’t want them though, you wanted Natasha, wherever she may be. She could be dead. Perhaps if she was, you would be together sooner than it would take for her to come out of hiding to see you just once. You didn’t want that. You weren’t that selfish. You hoped she was okay, better than you at least. But you were selfish enough to wish she would come see you, just once. It would be dangerous, stupidly reckless. There were no doubt eyes on your home at all times, waiting for Natasha to come back for you. That was why she couldn’t come. Yet you still couldn’t help but think fuck the risk, please just come hold my hand.
That was all you could think as you were wheeled into surgery and when the mask was placed over your face. You didn’t wish for success or recovery. You wished for her. You were naive to even try. She wasn’t there when you woke up and even though you hadn’t expected her to be, it still hurt to see the visitor chair next to your bed empty. You weren’t desperate for company, if you were you would have called your parents. You had always prided yourself on handling things on your own, even the burdens you could share with others. So no, you didn’t want sympathy, cards, flowers or visitors. You didn’t even care that you still had to get a taxi home instead of having someone waiting for you in their car. You just wanted a text from your girlfriend, to know that she was still out there somewhere thinking of you - caring about you.
Even after a year, you refused to give up on the dream Natasha would some day come home. You still celebrated your anniversary. You celebrated her birthday. You placed a present under the small tree for her on Christmas, leaving it there even after you took the tree down. You left the first aid kit on the windowsill in the bathroom. You always made sure there was a fresh pb&j sandwich on the kitchen counter when you went to bed. Even when keeping the apartment clean and tidy became too difficult for you, you ensured that anything Natasha might need, should she come home, be out ready for her.
After two years, your doctor refused to continue your treatment. It was causing internal bleeds. It was stripping you of energy you didn’t have to start with. It made you sick. You were entering stage four, something that didn’t always mean you were approaching the end of the road. But in your case, you were.
Then, finally, you received a text.
Unknown number: new jersey, tmrw. I’ll send you an address once you land -n
You blinked at your phone. You weren’t going to make it downstairs, never mind to the airport. There was a high chance Natasha had destroyed the phone as soon as she sent the message, but you had to at least try and find a way to say what you needed to.
Me: goodnight, see you in the morning :)
It was code, something you had come up with years ago. It was a text you had always dreaded receiving but had never pictured yourself sending. Why would you? Your girlfriend was the spy who’s life was always in danger in some sense, yet it was you preparing for what would come next.
You closed your eyes, content in the fact you had managed to say goodbye in some sense. It wasn’t the way you wanted, but it was better than nothing.
You awoke, two days later, to the sound of your window being opened. You opened your eyes but couldn’t raise your eyelids more than half way, adding to the poor visibility the night time provided. You only saw the figure when it moved, but you weren’t alarmed by the presence of something unknown no matter what it could mean. You hoped it meant you weren’t going to be alone when you went, no one deserved that.
“Y/n,” Natasha’s name pierced through the room. Your breath hitched in your throat but you were unable to answer. Your throat was sore and you hadn't had a drink in a long time. You didn’t have the strength to grab the glass on your bedside table.
Natasha turned the lamp and you really wished she didn’t. You didn’t know what you looked like, but the last time you saw your reflection you were greeted with someone you didn’t know. Would Natasha see it that way? Wonder where her girlfriend had gone? She had always been an expert on concealing her emotions, but her shock then was clear. Not just that, she was scared. You knew that feeling all too well. It had taken her place as the one constant in your life.
“What…are…” She was at a loss for words, you noted. She took a tentative step that allowed her to be close enough to see the tears brimming in her eyes. God, you always loved those emerald eyes.
Natasha brought the glass up to your lips and you managed two sips before turning your head away. “What do I do?” She asked, voice shaking. Your hand managed to find hers, linking them together with the intention of never letting go until you had taken your last breath. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, squeezing your hand. You managed a smile. “I love you so much.”
“Love you.” There was so much more you wanted to say. How much you missed her, how you had waited for her to come home. You wanted to rush her out of the apartment under the fear she would be caught, but you also wanted to tell her that you had been hanging on for her, keeping the grim reaper outside your door until you were ready to take his hand.
“God I…” Natasha also had a lot she wanted to say. She wanted to tell you how not a single day went by where she didn’t want to come running home or at least send a text. How she regretted ever joining a battle that seemed so insignificant in comparison to you laying there. She wanted to tell you about her family and how much she had told them about you and that they had even promised to keep an eye on you as she continued on the run. She wanted to tell you that she was going to be at a loss without you, but seeing the exhaustion on your face, she didn’t want to keep you from your rest any longer. You had waited long enough for her.
“It’s okay. You can go now. I love you so much and I’ll never stop loving you. You’ve done so well and I’m so proud, you can go to sleep now.”
Natasha didn’t want you to see her cry. It took all of her will power to hold it back until the final rise and fall of your chest. She bit back a sob, watching the light in your eyes finally dim so that they could take their place among the stars.
#natasha romanoff#marvel#natasha romanoff x reader#black widow#gxg marvel#natasha x reader#natasha romanoff imagines#natasha romanoff angst
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Speeding Car - Matt Sturniolo Part 21
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29
Pairing : y/n x Matt Sturniolo
Summary : After six years with your boyfriend Alex, you start to mentally check out. At a UCLA party, Alex reconnects with his childhood friend Emily, who proposes a double date with her boyfriend Matt. Your attraction to Matt grows as he pays you the first real attention you've had in years, sparking a complicated emotional journey.
Warnings : THESE WARNINGS WILL GIVE SPOILERS!!!! MDNI, angst, tension, anxiety, mentions of car accident/reader in accident, aftermath of accident, trauma as a result of accident, memory loss, mentions of cheating
Finally get to tell you where the inspo for this fic came from now that it won’t give away any spoilers. (all my Irish girlies stand up 🫡) I’d fully forgotten about this song this song until July, and when I listened to it it sparked the little ideas for me, and that’s how I came up with the main plot <3 I've been going through a break up (which was nearly a 10 year relationship) during the time of writing this so ive poured my heart and souuuuul into this ( i also want to note no themes of the story relate to me maybe only mentally clocking out bc of a bare minimum bf, do not fucking cheat on anyone) . this fic has been my baby and im so thankful to anyone who has read so far <3 p.s if you ever go back and reread this you’ll notice the little pieces of lyrics here and there lol
The world came back to me in fragments - blurred lights, muffled sounds, and an overwhelming sense of disorientation. As I fluttered my eyes open, the harsh brightness of the room made me wince. My head pounded with a dull ache, and my body felt heavy, as if it wasn’t quite mine.
I slowly turned my head to the right, trying to take in my surroundings, and there he was. The man I loved, sitting by my bedside. His face was a mixture of relief and something else, fear, maybe? His eyes met mine, and I felt a flicker of familiarity in the chaos of my mind.
“Alex..” I whispered, my voice weak and strained.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Try not to move too much,” Alex said softly, his hand reaching up to gently stroke my face. His touch was warm, comforting, but something about the way he looked at me sent a ripple of unease through my chest.
“What happened?” I asked, my voice barely audible, as panic started to rise within me. My thoughts were jumbled, trying to piece together how I ended up here. The last thing I remembered was.. was.. I couldn’t even grasp it.
“You got into an accident” Alex explained, his voice steady, but I could see the worry etched into his features. “But you’re going to be okay. You just need to rest.”
An accident? My mind raced, and instinctively, I tried to move, only to be met with sharp pain that made me gasp. “What about my injuries? When can I skate again? I have qualifiers for the Olympics soon!” The words tumbled out of my mouth in a frantic rush, driven by a fear that I couldn’t quite place.
Alex’s face twisted in confusion, and he hesitated before answering. “Y/n.. you haven’t skated in years.”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I stared at him, my heart pounding in my chest, refusing to believe what he was saying. “What? No.. that’s not true. I.. I’ve been training. You know that.” My voice quivered with desperation.
Alex exchanged a worried glance with the nurse, then looked back at me, his expression pained. “Y/n, You stopped skating when I was a freshman.. I’m a junior now..”
His words echoed in my head, but they didn’t make any sense. UCLA? Sophomore year? It was as if he was speaking a different language. The last memory I had was waiting anxiously to see if he made the Bruins team, both of us so excited about the possibility of him making it big with football.
“No… no, that’s not right,” I muttered, shaking my head as if it would somehow clear the fog that clouded my thoughts. “Did you get onto the Bruins team?” I asked, clinging to the one thing that made sense to me.
“Y/n..” Alex’s voice was gentle, but it carried the weight of the truth I wasn’t ready to accept.
The room spun around me, and I felt like I was being thrown into a different universe. Everything was wrong, nothing made sense. My heart raced, my breathing quickened, and I felt like I was drowning in confusion.
The female nurse stepped forward, her expression calm and professional. “Alex, could I speak with you outside for a moment?” she asked, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Alex squeezed my hand one last time before letting go, his eyes lingering on mine with a look that made my chest tighten. He nodded and followed the nurse out of the room, leaving me alone with the student nurse who had been quietly observing from the side.
I turned my head slightly to look at him, trying to ground myself in something familiar, something stable. “Can someone tell me how long I’ll have to be in here for?” I asked, my voice trembling.
The boy hesitated, looking a bit uncertain. “I’m not too sure, Y/n. We’ll have to wait for one of the staff to give us results first” he said, trying to sound reassuring as he reached out and cupped my hand with his two.
His gesture was kind, but it only added to my confusion. Why was he holding my hand like that? Was he one of those compassionate doctors who went the extra mile for their patients? My mind struggled to make sense of his actions.
“Can’t you ask someone since you work here?” I asked, hoping for some clarity.
He blinked at me, clearly taken aback. “Work here?”
Before I could respond, the door creaked open, and the female nurse re-entered the room, followed by Alex. There was a heaviness in the air, a sense of something unspoken. The nurse’s eyes met mine, and I could see the concern etched into her features.
“Ms. Y/l/n” she began, her voice gentle yet serious, “I need to explain something to you. After the accident, you sustained a significant concussion, which has led to a form of memory loss known as post-traumatic amnesia..”
“Amnesia?” I whispered, the word foreign and terrifying on my tongue. My gaze darted between her and Alex, hoping for someone to tell me this was all a mistake.
“Yes” she confirmed softly. “From what we can gather, you seem to have lost your recent memories from about two years ago onward. It’s possible that these memories will return with time, but for now, you’re not going to remember much.”
My world shattered with those words. Two years? How could two whole years of my life just be gone? My breath quickened, and the room began to feel smaller, more suffocating. I glanced at Alex, hoping to find some reassurance, but his expression only mirrored my panic.
“Two years?” I asked again, trying to wrap my mind around it. “What happened in those two years? I don’t remember any of it..” My voice trembled as I spoke, my heart sinking deeper into despair.
“That’s okay, Y/n” Alex said, stepping closer to me. “We’ll figure this out together, okay? I’ll help you remember.”
But something about the way he said it felt off. There was a tension in his voice that made me uneasy. I looked back at the boy who had been holding my hand, trying to place his face in the context of my life, but nothing came to mind.
“Who.. who are you?” I asked hesitantly, turning my attention to him. His expression faltered, a mixture of pain and something else flashing across his features.
“Y/n, it’s me.. Matt” he said, his voice tinged with a sorrow that cut through me like a knife.
I stared at him “I- I don't know who you are..” I didn’t recognize him. I didn’t remember anything about him. It was as if the two years that had vanished had taken him with them.
Before I could say anything else, the tension in the room exploded.
“Okay man I think it’s time you leave” Alex snapped, his eyes narrowing at Matt, his voice dripping with venom. “You have no right to be here, especially after what you did.”
“What I did?” Matt shot back, his voice rising with anger. “You’re the one who’s been sat here lying to her! You cheated on her, Alex! Don’t you dare act like you care about her now.”
The words hung in the air like a death sentence. My head spun, the room tilting as I tried to process what was happening. Cheated? Alex cheated on me?
“You’re full of shit, Matt” Alex retorted, stepping closer to him, their faces inches apart. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’ve been lying to her this entire time!” Matt shouted, his voice cracking with emotion. “You think I don’t know what you’ve done? You think she won’t find out? I won’t let you keep doing this to her.”
“Stop it!” I screamed, my voice cutting through their argument like a knife. Tears streamed down my face as the overwhelming stress consumed me. “Just stop! Both of you, get out! Get out!”
The room fell into a stunned silence. Both Matt and Alex turned to look at me, their expressions a mixture of shock and regret. But I couldn’t take it anymore. The confusion, this talk of betrayal, the loss of my memory - it was too much. I felt like I was drowning, and I needed them to leave before I lost myself completely.
“Please.. just leave.” I begged, my voice barely above a whisper, but firm in its resolve.
Matt’s face crumpled with pain, but he nodded slowly, backing away toward the door. Alex hesitated, his eyes pleading with me to understand, but I couldn’t even look at him.
One by one, they both left the room, the door closing behind them with a finality that left me feeling utterly alone. The silence that followed was deafening, the emptiness in my heart growing with every passing second.
I collapsed back onto the bed, my body trembling as I sobbed, the weight of everything too much to bear. Two years of my life, gone. The man I thought I loved and a stranger. The man who claimed to love me and a liar. The situation infront of me confused me as to which one was which. The memories I needed to make sense of it all, vanished.
I was lost in a world that no longer felt like my own.
Matt’s POV
I walked out of Y/n’s hospital room, the door clicking shut behind me like a hammer driving the final nail into a coffin. My heart pounded in my chest, the adrenaline from my argument with Alex still coursing through my veins, but it was nothing compared to the fiery dread settling in my stomach. Every word I’d said to her, every desperate attempt to break through her confusion, seemed to hang in the air like a suffocating fog.
I made my way to the waiting area, my feet heavy, my mind numb. The bright, white lights overhead did nothing to chase away the darkness consuming my thoughts. We approached the row of cold plastic chairs and Alex sat down, his elbows resting on his knees, head buried in his hands. I could feel the tension radiating off him, but I was too consumed by my own torment to care.
I dropped into a chair two seats away from him, the hard plastic pressing against my back, and let my head fall into my hands. My thoughts spiraled, chaotic and disjointed, but always coming back to one image - the moment she was hit.
The screech of tires. The blinding headlights. The sickening thud as Y/n’s body crumpled under the car’s impact. I could still hear the scream that tore through me as I watched her fly through the air, time slowing to a crawl, helpless to stop it. It played over and over in my mind, each replay more gut wrenching than the last.
I should’ve been faster. I should’ve told her how I really felt. I should’ve… My fists clenched in my hair as I tried to choke down the guilt that threatened to swallow me whole.
What was I even doing on that balcony? Watching her run out of the house, pacing back and forth. I should’ve gone to her instead of just standing there like an idiot, too lost in my own confusion and pain to act. And then when I saw the car coming down the hill, everything in me froze.
"Y/n, get off the road!!" I had shouted, but my voice felt so small, so powerless against the force of what was about to happen. But it's too late.
In a split second, the beam of headlights blinds her. The screeching of tires fills the air as the car tries to stop, but the impact is inevitable. I watch in horror as the car strikes Y/n. The sound of the collision is deafening, and time seems to slow down.
She’s thrown backward, landing hard on the pavement. I can’t breathe, my legs feel like jelly as I race down the stairs, stumbling and pushing through the crowd.
When I finally reach her, my heart is pounding in my chest, my breath coming in short, panicked bursts. I kneel beside her, tears streaming down my face as I try to make sense of the horrific scene before me.
Y/n lies on the ground, her face contorted in pain, her body unmoving. The car speeds away into the night, leaving behind a scene of devastation. The people around us have began to scatter, some calling for an ambulance, others standing in shocked silence.
I gently cradle Y/n's head in my lap, my hands shaking uncontrollably. "Y/n, stay with me," I pleaded, my voice choking with emotion. "Please, stay with me."
She blinks slowly, her eyes meeting mine with a look of pain and resignation. I can see the life fading from her, and it feels like my world is collapsing around me.
The sound of sirens grows louder, and I can hear the distant honking of emergency vehicles approaching. I try to stay strong for her, to keep her conscious until help arrives, but my heart is breaking.
"I’m so sorry," I whisper, tears falling freely. "I’m so sorry for everything."
As the ambulance pulls up, paramedics rush to our side, taking over the situation with practiced efficiency. I’m left standing on the sidelines, my heart shattered as I watch them work to save her. I know that nothing will ever be the same again, and the weight of what just happened is almost too much to bear.
Now she was in that hospital bed, her memories shattered along with my heart. She didn’t even recognize me. My face, my voice - nothing. I was just a stranger to her now, a distant memory from a life she couldn’t even recall.
And then there was Alex. The guy she “loved”, the guy who’d betrayed her. He sat there just a few feet away, but it felt like a canyon stretched between us. I knew he was going to see this as an opportunity to weasel his way back into her life. She didn't remember any of it, him cheating, the way he treated her like an option. And now this was his free pass, to get her back like nothing had ever happened. I wanted to punch him, to scream at him for all the lies he’d fed her, for making this even more unbearable than it already was. But what good would that do? None of it would bring her memories back. None of it would undo the damage that had been done.
I glanced sideways at Alex. He was still in the same position, as if he were trapped in his own private hell. Good. He deserved it. But the satisfaction was fleeting, replaced quickly by a wave of exhaustion and despair.
All I could do was sit there, replaying the accident in my head, the look of panic in Y/n’s eyes as she realized what was happening, the way everything went silent just before impact. It was a moment I knew would haunt me for the rest of my life, one that no amount of apologies or explanations could ever make right.
All I wanted was for her to be okay, to wake up and remember me, remember us. But even that hope felt distant now, buried under the weight of the reality we were in.
I let out a shuddering breath, forcing myself to look away from Alex and focus on the dull hum of the hospital around us. Waiting, that’s all we could do now. Wait and hope for a miracle that seemed less likely with each passing second.
The door in front of us opened, and in came Nick, Madi, Chris & Emily. I had gone to the hospital with Y/n in the ambulance, and the paramedics contacted Alex as he was still down as Y/n’s emergency contact. The news of what happened tore through the party fast, but getting out of the place was hard to do so with the amount of emergency services on scene.
“God Matt is she okay?” Nick asks frantically.
“She’s awake Nick.. she’ll be okay.. But she doesn’t remember anything.”
“Oh thank god she's okay, maybe it’s for the best that she doesn't remember the accident happening.” Nick says, trying to make me feel better.
“No, Nick. She doesn’t remember anything. She doesn’t remember me, she won't remember you, she doesn’t have any memory of the last 2 years at all.” I said, tears outlining my eyes.
Nick stood there with a horrified expression on his face. “You love her don’t you?” Nick whispers, so low that only us can hear.
“More than anything Nick, more than anything I know.”
“Do you think I could go in and see her?” Nick questions.
“If you want, but she’s stressed out at the minute.. Just try your best not to make anything worse.” I say, as Nick nods at me, getting up to gently knock on the door to Y/n’s room.
I take my eyes off Nick and lock eyes with Emily.
“Can we go outside for a minute for some air?” I asked her, knowing I'm about to have a conversation that I should’ve handled differently nights ago.
a/n: sorry.. again..
taglist : @muwapsturniolo @anitahunt @sturnfannn @jayde510 @chrissfavhoe @babyalliah-777 @v33angel @urmom69lol @willowrites @ribread03 @2muchofaslvt @sturnsaver @sleepysturniolo @jcsturniolo11 @jessie-essie @hoeforchrizz @mynbbys @sturniolopanini @mattsturnxoxo @delicatechrry @t77te @sturnsyaper69 @hotdismylife @maggot3647 @ivysturnss @noplaceissafeanymore @mattssgf @yourfavsturniologirl @maethem0nth @sillyponygrl @mattyblover07 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @dominicfikeenthusiast @mattsfavbigtitties @ncm9696 @chrisstvrns @schlutt4matty @chrissolos @ilusa @amelia-sturniolo3 @wonnieeluvvr @pussydestroyer100 @amexiass @mystinkylefttoe26 @lizzysmith110 @sturniololovebot @secret-sturniolo @freshythefishy @witchofthehour @stvrnlover @alizestvrnss @beachbabe000
#Spotify#snowy speaks#speeding car#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#nick sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo
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OMGGG what about the tall genshin men reacting when u suddenly distance urself from them, but they dont know its bc of something they said? feel free to edit n modify this as much as ud like :3
₊˚ෆ "𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓, 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄…" | diluc, childe, kaveh x gn!reader
art by @/kongqingkoqi on twitter! (not too sure on who you meant by tall characters, so i just chose a couple males with the tall model~ thank you for your request!)
— cw: angst + comfort ? injury (diluc), ngl reader is kinda a bitch in childe's but it was the only way i thought up of of making the situation work so. lmao. cries
[ Perhaps it was the winter cold that had bit him so, or perhaps it was merely a gloom that had briefly descended upon him. Either way, an unfortunate slip of the tongue has wounded you, yet they themselves remain unaware. ]
"Love?"
DILUC's eyes are round with worry, and his concerned gaze sweeps over you - from your crestfallen form, and then to your eyes that shy away from his. Ever since he had returned to the estate after being out of business since morning, you've been avoiding him, not wishing to speak a single word to his self and not even bothering to spare him a fleeting glance.
At first, it was bearable. Perhaps you just had had a long day and wanted some alone time, no? It was always a possibility, that is, until he saw your smiling self as you busied yourself in chatting away with the maids, and most importantly, that brother of his.
What had he done to warrant such treatment? You loved him, that he was sure of. Otherwise, you would've rejected him, wouldn't you? You wouldn't have let him take your hand and bring it to his lips ever so slowly, pressing a kiss into your knuckles?
"Love, I... I'm sorry. Please, tell me what I did wrong." His voice contains a shred of his desperation, and his crimson eyes only hold you in their gaze. You, who had broken past his carefully crafted walls and rekindled the flame that had long since been extinguished within his heart. "If it's something I did, if it's something I said-"
“Diluc, you…” Your quiet voice ebbs to silence as your eyes glance away, landing on everything except for the red-haired man before you, whose broad shoulders give the slightest tremor. The darkness in your expression, the displayed hurt… Ah.
Diluc’s weary mind raced, recollecting the hasty conversation from this morning, when dawn had yet to break and he had arrived home, coat blazing, skin littered in bruises and still-bleeding cuts. You had rushed out of your bedroom, still in your night garments, panicking over the wounds that covered his body and the red that blackened his already dark clothes. In a strained voice, eyes wide and frantic, you had called for the maids, only for Diluc to forcibly shush you, steadying himself on shaky legs.
“Love, what happened, what were you doing and how did-??”
“It doesn’t concern you.” His tone is low, tired. “Stay out of this, you won’t be able to offer any assistance anyhow.”
Begrudgingly, the man recalled his absolute exhaustion, having just returned after a bloody night of battling monsters, muscles sore and crying for relief. There was no need for your concern, his cuts would mend and his wounds would heal. Yet he hadn’t meant for his words to come out so harsh, for his tongue to pierce you in the way it had.
"I'm sorry, I wasn't in my right mind when I said that- I just... I just didn't want you to be hurt also... If I'm injured, those wounds will fade with time, but I.."
His words trail off, replaced with your silence - a voiceless agreement, one that Diluc takes as an answer. Holding both your hands in his gloved ones, it's somehow easy to feel his fiery warmth despite his cold demeanor. Cold... was it really so? The male's eyes shone, and then you were in his arms, tightly intertwined.
"..I don't know what I would do if harm were to befell you, love..."₊˚ෆ
"Love!"
CHILDE's playful smile fades at its corners as you walk past him, the way you're failing to even acknowledge his presence painfully apparent. "Hah... what's with you today?" Another absence of a response. You dash your way out of his sight, and he's left alone in the dark living room, a half-smile still on his features. The fuck?
Okay, maybe it was just one of those days. There had been several since the start of the relationship, and the harbinger offered his utmost understanding. Sometimes people just felt like shit, and didn't feel like doing shit, and he could understand that to some extent.
There, mystery solved, yeah? Ah, but just one problem, how come you had been completely fine just an hour before? He had the day off, and so did you, so there was a mutual agreement to just stay home and laze about in one another's presence - yet it was only nearing lunchtime and you had already given him the cold shoulder? For what..? You hadn't even gone outside or did anything today-
Oh. Then he had to have been the problem. He raps his knuckles on your bedroom door, but it's really his bedroom too, and is bold enough to poke his head through the frame without waiting for your confirmation, a hesitant grin decorating his lips. "Love, I'm sorry- for ah... whatever you disliked...?"
You're sat at your desk, weariness evident in your darkened eyes. "Childe, do you find me someone who needs to be protected?"
He blinks. "...What?"
"Childe, do you really just want to spend the entire day lying around?" Snapping your fingers, your eyes lit up with sparkles. "We should go to a cafe or something for lunch, maybe, and then-"
"Why through go all the effort? We're staying home because I thought you wanted to, aren't we?"
"Not to that extent Childe... if you were with friends, what would you be doing? Not sitting on the couch all day, I hope?" A sheepish smile crossed your face.
"Hmm.. friends... I suppose we'd duel...?"
"Then-"
"Nope, no way am I dueling with you, you're way too weak, love, that's why I gotta protect you, hm?"
He immediately shakes his head at your words, almost frantic. "W- No, I didn't mean it in that way, love. You're capable, it's just that... Well- you don't have a vision, or a weapon, or-"
"Childe." Not your usual 'love', a bright smile on your lips, and he flinches just the slightest at the sight. "We're in a relationship. I don't want to be in a give all take all relation, you know? I.. I want to be independent, I want you to rely on me sometimes too... I just feel like sometimes I'm just such a burden to you and-"
"A burden?" His eyes widen, features instantly shadowing with disbelief at your words.
You, a burden? Such a thing couldn't possibly be. The warmth that you had granted him, the delicate arms that had held him in its hold, the lips that had whispered such affections and pressed kisses on his skin-
"No, love. You are not a burden, not when you are someone who makes life worth living." ₊˚ෆ
"Love...?"
KAVEH's in instant full blown panic mode, the dark bags under his eyes especially evident with how wide they've grown. "H-Hey, are you okay?" Of course, something wasn't okay - otherwise, why would you be ignoring him like this? But his sleepless mind has grown frantic, and he's desperate for relief. His hand latches onto yours before you can disappear into another room, holding onto your wrist loosely enough to not seem forceful. "Ah..."
He'd moved without thinking, almost as if on instinct, and now that you had glanced back with something colder in your gaze, that same urge told him not to let go. "I, I'm sorry!" For what exactly, he wouldn't even be able to tell a soul, yet the words seemed to have done the trick, as your feet pause in the middle of a step away from him, hesitance clear in your expression.
"For what, Kaveh?"
Shit, he's fucked. This was it, all the all nighters and hours of laborious planning and calculations had led to this one moment... His mind was spurred into action as his mouth sputtered useless stutters and... oh, could it be?
"Kaveh, you should go to sleep, it's already so late, and you haven't gotten a good rest in days, love..." Your concerned tone rang clearly in his ears, but he shook the words away, his disheveled form only focusing on the work before him, the endless tasks he had yet to complete.
"No, I... I can't. Love, could you brew me a cup of coffee, the extra strong kind? Thank you..." He gave his sleepy eyes a rub, completely missing the look that had flitted across your face in that moment.
Your sigh invades his flashbacks, and you look completely done with him, brows furrowed a fraction and lips drawn into a thin line. "Kaveh, please, for the love of the archons, take some better care of yourself."
"...Ah?"
Suddenly, your tone had shifted in the span of a half second, and instead of the angry gaze he had expected, it was more so... scolding. Concern. "Close that jaw of yours, Kaveh, how come you look so surprised? I've told you this time and time again, you need rest!"
An accusing finger was pointed in his direction, the bearer someone he was certainly very familiar with. "Well, it's a big project, I have to finish it by next week and there's barely any time, so I need to-"
"-And how can you possibly plan on functioning if you haven't gotten any sleep?"
Curses, a valid argument. Kaveh slowly held up his empty hands in defeat, chuckling sheepishly. So this was about him, and not you? Thank the archons, for a second he had thought he had messed up big time-
"That look of yours, you better not be thinking what I think you're thinking! And, besides..." You glanced at the ground, as if suddenly reluctant to speak another word. "I was waiting for you so we could sleep together..."
...An angel? Was that who was before him?
"I-I'm sorry... I promise I'll take better care of myself and... you won't have to wait for me, tonight. I'll turn in early, love." ₊˚ෆ
(a/n) not all that proud of this one. but here. sigh
reblogs are veryyyy appreciated!! if you liked this fic, please consider following, as im super close to a follower goal id love to hit before new years! thank you.
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#★ ˎˊ˗ mondaymelon#favoniuslibrary#astronetwrk#x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact#genshin fanfic#genshin imagines#genshin x reader#genshin x you#childe x reader#tartaglia x reader#childe#genshin#diluc#diluc x reader#diluc x you#kaveh x reader#kaveh#kaveh x you#childe x you#genshinimpact#genshin angst#genshin impact imagines#genshin headcanons#genshin impact headcanons#genshin fluff#tartaglia#genshin childe#genshin diluc
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I like the general fandom trend to just take the plot of Hyrule Warriors as a loose guideline at best and just use the whole concept as a good excuse to get blorbos to interact across timelines, BUT I'm very disappointed that everyone is missing the comedic potential of a very specific squad of characters:
Young Link (aka Mask), who walks out of the nightmare of Majora's Mask and immediately gets portal kidnapped into a temporal war, takes one look at the whole mess and decides that you could not fucking pay him to admit to being the resident expert on Time Shenanigans. He introduces himself with the title of Hero of Termina, and definitely doesn't have any other ones, that would be crazy. Hero of Time? Never heard of him.
Tetra, who is a kickass pirate captain with zero patience for people trying to shove her into the Designated Princess role, and realizes immediately that Oh Fuck, this Hyrule has a lot of Ideas about how the Hero and the Princess are supposed to properly play their parts, the second they realize she's technically a Zelda they're gonna shove her in a goddamn dress and damsel her again, that's not happening. So she's definitely just a really cool pirate captain, nothing else going on here at all, definitely not the heir of the Hylian royal family in her time, that'd be crazy.
Ravio, who is literally just a palette swapped Link, meaning that the second his hood comes off, things are gonna get Awkward. There's no way in hell he's dealing with all that Hero baggage, that's Link work, so that giant bunny hood/mask is practically superglued to his head, and he's not taking it off for love or money.
Spirit Tracks Zelda, who is just in the Phantom Armour the whole time, and passing herself off as just a friendly ghost posessing a suit of armour to help the Hero of Spirits. Of course she isn't Princess Zelda, that's ridiculous, if she were a Zelda then people would start getting really weird about her technically being dead, and boy does that ever sound like a whole Thing she doesn't want to deal with, so she can't possibly be Zelda, she's just a nice ghost knight. Also, her teenage grandma is here, and that's kinda weird, so it's easier to just not admit to being royalty and avoid that awkward conversation.
Finally there's Sheik, who is not the Princess Zelda of the era straight up abandoning her war torn country for months at a time so she can risk her life in extreme cosplay for no clear reason, but is instead the actual Sheik from Ocarina of Time, who just beat Ganondorf like a month ago and is still trying to process what the fuck to do now. Also, he's been pretending to be a boy since he was ten, and is realizing there's a pretty good chance that he isn't pretending anymore, so that's a whole other can of worms. But for the last seven years of his life, being Princess Zelda meant certain death, so he's not really inclined to introduce himself like when in a new and stressful situation (not to mention he might actually just not be a girl named Zelda anymore), so he automatically introduces himself as just Sheik the spooky ninja man, and fuck he's in too deep to back out now, looks like he's committing to the bit. If you think you sense the Triforce of Wisdom on him, no you don't.
Cue shenanigans as the five of them attempt to hide that they're all actually kind of A Big Deal. The group motto is "Nobody says shit", which is usually delivered as a frantic hiss whenever someone slips up. Just the reunion between Sheik and Mask alone would be absolutely buckwild given how they parted, and how they're both frantically pretending to Not be involved with each other. For added hilarity and/or drama, Sheik gives his semi-bullshit cover story of having just been a friend of the Hero of Time, then runs into said Hero of Time and they both have to desperately pretend not to know each other, because if anyone picks up on the mountain of baggage between them then Mask is busted, and he won't hesitate to drag Sheik down with him out of sheer spite. Not to mention the weird balance of Sheik being used to this Link being a teenager that's actually a small child, and now has to adjust to Link who is a small child that's actually a teenager.
Also, i really feel like we're all missing out on the comedy potential of Ganondorf recognizing Young Link on sight and the two of them immediately launching into a grudge match with some extremely personal and specific insults on both sides. Meanwhile literally everybody else is just standing there watching, trying to process the fact that out of every single person that's been pulled out of time, Ganondorf only has personal beef with a literal nine year old.
I just feel like we're all really sleeping on the potential for Shenanigans here. The whole thing is an absurd mess, why not have some fun with it?
#legend of zelda#hyrule warriors#for the record im picturing the sheik-mask reunion as being the spiderman pointing meme for like five minutes#also my mental image of sheik is extremely Bad haircut (he does it himself with a knife and doesnt care about making it even)#and a ridiculous tanline across his face from wearing a mask all day#OOT magiaclly growing out zelda's hair and manifesting a Royal Gown was some top tier bullshit and i'm always angry about it#like dude. literally all of princess zelda's finery was made for a ten year old#she's like eighteen now. nobody's making royal finery for teenage zelda. where was she supposed to get that dress.#i am eternally on my agenda to let zelda wear some goddamn pants without an immediate magic makeover to *fix* it#anyways nintendo's sexism aside i like sheik being trans its very fun and sexy of him#tfw you go into hiding to escape political assassination and accidentally trans your gender in the process
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