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g1rld1ary · 9 months ago

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5 people james didn't mean to kiss (and one he did) ; james potter x fem!reader

➻ first james fic!! i love reviving old fanfic trends <33

➻ word count: 4494

➻ synopsis: says it on the tin baby!

➻ warnings: swearing, allusions to sex/dirty jokes, era typical homophobia (basically nonexistent)

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James Potter was a very affectionate person, everyone knew that. His love language was absolutely physical touch — everyone knew that too. It was also assumed, therefore, that James Potter had an extensive list of kisses. That assumption wasn’t necessarily wrong, but a good chunk of them weren’t exactly what you imagined when thinking of the great James Potter kissing someone. They were often impulsive when he didn’t know how else to express his feelings. His very first kiss, for example, wasn’t exactly the cheesy, romantic soap opera that he often advertised providing for girls.

Sirius Black

The Marauders sat in their dorm room, early on in second year. While first year was packed with ridiculous adventures and the forming of their friendship group, second year brought a new awareness of girls, romance and especially kissing. That was the topic of discussion as the boys all packed into one bed, hypothesising about what it might be like. James and Sirius led the discussion with much bravado and false confidence whilst Peter looked decidedly scared. Remus, to his credit, just looked rather amused at it all.

“But where do you touch her?” James asked, eyes still wide and innocent and twelve years old, “I can’t just stand there with my hands at my sides like a twat!”

“Don’t be stupid, you hold her like this.” Sirius bent his arms in a direction that looked borderline painful. Remus huffed and climbed off the bed, pulling both the boys with him.

“If you’re gonna kiss a girl,” Remus instructed, “You have to hold her gently. Don’t push her around like she’s dead weight. James, put your arms around Sirius’ waist like that, now Sirius, you put your arms around his neck.”

“Pete’s gonna think we’re bent,” Sirius grumbled, a red hue on his cheeks.

“You are bent, you poof,” Peter quipped from his spot on the bed. He was right, of course, but that wouldn’t come to light until fourth year. James thought this was hilarious though, and began miming exaggerated — rather sloppy — kisses. And since James never failed to cure Sirius of his moods, he did the same. Remus rolled his eyes as the two boys acted out a passionate scene, loose tongues and all, until they were no longer acting.

All four boys in the dorm were frozen as James and Sirius’ mouths had accidentally connected in their stupidity, none of them sure what to do. Seconds passed as the two stood, lips locked against each other, no one daring to move. At least, until Remus let out a long, uncharacteristic wheeze, which dissolved into a fit of giggles that he would usually be mortified by, but there was no way he was outdoing the kiss anytime soon. Peter followed along momentarily, laughing so hard barely any sound actually came out, silent heaves punctuated by gasping breaths.

Released from their stupor both boys leapt apart, wiping their mouths with their forearms. Both had comical expressions of disgust, still slightly too stunned to verbalise any of it.

“We,” James heaved, “Can never speak of this again. Ever.” Sirius agreed in a heartbeat, still unable to completely wipe the blush from his pale complexion. He probably would have dwelled on those feelings if James wasn’t James, beginning to see the humour in it soon enough. By the end of the night it was an inside joke that would proceed to be referenced countless times within the walls of Hogwarts.

So although James would tell the story of his first kiss quite differently — he alleged it was with a Ravenclaw named Keeley a few weeks later, his proper first kiss will always have been with one Sirius Black in the Gryffindor dormitories on an otherwise unassuming Tuesday evening. And that secret was held onto dearly by all four marauders until, of course, Sirius’ best man speech at James’ wedding, where the anecdote received uproarious applause, loudest of all by James himself.

2. Remus Lupin

The Marauders had all known about Remus’ ‘furry little problem’ since their second year — first for the most perceptive of the bunch. Nevertheless, the group were insistent in helping Remus in any way they could, though it was a difficult task when his alter ego had no resistance to killing them. Until Sirius had come to them with the idea of becoming animagi. It was difficult no doubt, advanced magic far beyond the teaching at Hogwarts, but the four of them were exceptional wizards each in their own way, and the project seemed somewhat manageable with four brains chipping away at it over the course of two years.

When they finally did get it, hardly any of them could believe it, least of all Remus. He had never imagined that the human side of him was worthy of this much love and devotion, let alone the monster within him. However, despite how they tried to play it off, the achievement didn’t come easily to any of them. Sirius was the first to get it, big black dog accompanying the group around the castle and becoming an unexpected staple of the Gryffindor common room. You in particular liked to cuddle up with him on the couch and spoil him with head scratches when you were stressed from school — at least until the secret was revealed and you hit him upside his human head for deceiving you.

James was second to get it, though much less gracefully than Sirius. The whole group of Gryffindors had been hanging out together down by the Black Lake, enjoying the slowly warming weather after class one day. James had the misfortune of being sat between you and Lily, which made things very confusing for his hormonal body and brain. His eyes were trained on his hands, too afraid to actually talk to either of you and embarrass himself which was what usually happened. You and Lily, however, were hell bent on making that occur. While James had had a well known crush on Lily for the last few years, ever since you’d come back to school that year post-puberty you could both tell that James was both emotionally and physically confused. You both delighted in this and used it to your advantage, Lily finding him the most annoying man on earth and you delighting in his flustered expressions (secretly finding him actually pretty cute).

After thirty minutes of torture, James couldn’t take it. You’d made one too many dirty jokes directed at him and he was a blushing mess, fidgeting awkwardly between you and Lily laughing gleefully. He excused himself quickly and uncharacteristically quietly, hurrying off to be out of sight of his friends. You all laughed as you watched him go, and Remus reluctantly stood, muttering something about making sure James didn’t drive himself crazy.

Remus headed straight to the Forbidden Forest, knowing the privacy would be what James desired in the moment. Sure enough there he was, taking a moment to breathe against a tree.

“Easy there, Potter, don’t cum in your pants,” He joked, obviously amused by the whole ordeal. James turned quickly, devastated at Remus seeing him so sexually frustrated.

“Sod off, Lupin. It’s not my fault! They both just sit there looking so fucking good, talking about all these unholy things and you expect me to just be fine with it? It’s so—” Instead of the exasperated groan Remus expected, he was met with a stag standing tall in front of him. He couldn’t help his mouth dropping open, the animal far more magnificent than he could have expected out of the fourteen year old boy.

In a weird shift of figure the deer was back to boy, and James only had a moment of shocked stillness before he was whooping and yelling in the grass. Remus joined him, the two of them yelling and dancing around like idiots in their joy. James pulled him in for a hug, appropriately masculine until he pressed a kiss onto Remus’ lips, still grinning ecstatically as they pulled away. Remus scowled in a way he hoped was convincing.

“I hate it when you do that, Potter,” He grumbled as the two of them returned to their friends.

“Yeah, right,” James laughed, pushing his glasses up his nose. “It’s a blessing to be kissed by my sexy arse.”

3. Peter Pettigrew

While all four of the Marauders were undoubtedly exceptional wizards, that didn’t always translate into their grades. For example, being so ahead in the curriculum made James Potter get lazy, often submitting subpar essays simply because he figured it was already common knowledge and he was more interested in higher level magic. He always ended up with top grades from outstanding extra credit projects, but the point still stood.

Peter was similarly a great wizard. Perhaps not so much a prodigy like James or Sirius, and didn’t dominate the class ranks like Remus, but he did well for himself and was pretty exceptional in Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures. However, he was failing History of Magic. All four of them had chosen the subject for their OWLs, assuming it would be an easy O because of the ghost professor. They couldn’t be more wrong. Binns was a useless teacher and Peter especially found it difficult to teach himself the material just from the textbook, and was falling dreadfully behind, each essay earning a worse grade than the last.

James had offered to help tutor him before their exams, and the two buckled down in the library almost every day in the weeks leading up to exam season. Peter made pretty good progress, eager to catch up with his friends and prove he was on their level. Still, everyone was nervous for the test and its outcome.

When results were released, you and the Gryffindors were all together. Whilst you and the girls all got the reveal over and done with, the boys all waited with bated breaths. Most of the grades weren’t shocking — three of them knew they could easily get top grades from the little effort they put in, but they were all waiting on Peter’s History of Magic grade. The blond boy opened his paper with shaky hands, eyes scanning frantically over the information contained. Slowly he raised his head, nervous smile apparent.

“I got an A,” He said, and within an instant the boys were on top of him, congratulating him with strong hugs or by clapping him on the back. James grabbed both of his cheeks, pressing them together and pushing a kiss onto Peter’s lips.

“Prongs!” Peter moaned, pushing his face away half-heartedly.

“I’m just proud of you, Wormtail,” He cooed, appearing much like his mother whom you all adored.

“Oi, Potter,” You interrupted, waving your sheet of results around. “I got an O in Potions — where’s my kiss?” James immediately broke your eye contact, and you pretended you weren’t charmed by his embarrassed little smile. He mumbled a response that had his friends ripping him to shreds, egging him on whilst simultaneously teasing him and his alleged manhood. He pressed a gentle peck to your forehead and you raised an eyebrow.

“Not what I meant, but ok.”

4. Regulus Black

Regulus Black had a difficult relationship with the Marauders, to say the very least. By his fifth year — the rest of the boys’ sixth — Sirius had been at the Potter’s for months and Regulus was still reeling from the impact. He was noticeably quieter and more sombre than in years previous, and a dangerous resentment for his brother and his friends bubbled under his skin.

James Potter connected these dots quickly. However, he didn’t really know what to do about it. He wasn’t sorry that Sirius was living with him, but he didn’t like that Regulus was left all alone with their wicked parents, regardless of their personal differences. That brought James to you.

You sat together on the couch, his head resting next to your thighs, curls just brushing against your skin in a way that you couldn’t stop thinking about. He was lamenting about his mental struggles as you worked on your crochet, thinking quietly as he rambled on.

“Why don’t you just talk to him?” You asked suddenly, and James tilted his head to look up at you, holding back his laughter at your upside down appearance.

“What?” He asked, “I can’t talk to him, he hates me!”

“When has that ever stopped you before? Lily hates you and yet you bother her all the time,” You said, smile playing on your lips.

“That’s not true!” James protested, “I don’t bother her that much anymore!” You rolled your eyes playfully and turned back to your craft as James continued to ponder the situation.

As usual, he decided you were right. And so he sent a short letter to Regulus, asking for a meeting on the Astronomy tower at midnight. Surprisingly he’d agreed, and the two boys were standing awkwardly across each other on the tower. Regulus refused to start the conversation and so stood in silence, staring down James in an effort to scare him off. James wouldn’t be deterred.

“I just wanted to talk about what happened last year,” He said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose nervously.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“C’mon. I know we’re not friends, but I also figured none of your friends are the talking type either. So, I thought you could talk to me — full confidentiality. I don’t know, blame me, yell at me, I just don’t want you to do this all by yourself.”

“How sweet, Potter,” He sneered, “But I don’t need to talk about any of my feelings.”

James Potter was nothing if not persistent.

“Ok, well if you don’t want to talk, how about you listen?” To his surprise, Regulus stayed. One perfect eyebrow raised, he slowly sat next to James, legs dangling over the edge of the tower. After a gesture for him to go on, James started. He began to talk about the process of having Sirius live with him, the feelings they both had about it, and the guilt they both felt about leaving Regulus alone. At that Regulus looked up, eyes pooling with hope.

Then without any warning, Regulus was talking more than James had ever heard before, spilling what he supposed must have been the younger boy’s darkest secrets and vulnerabilities. James was unprepared, not actually expecting him to engage. At one point James had put a comforting arm around Regulus’ shoulder, words failing to express any of the feelings he had inside. Regulus didn’t pull away as James expected, instead only starting to cry. James just watched in disbelief as Regulus cried into his chest. Awkwardly, James arranged himself to press a gentle kiss to Regulus’ forehead right as Regulus moved to look up and speak, resulting in a ridiculous kiss between the two of them.

They jumped apart in less than a second, both with horrified looks on their faces.

“Oh my God—”

“That was an accident I swear—”

“I’m really sorry—”

“I was just trying to comfort you—”

Both boys stumbled over their words as they clambered up to their feet, putting a strictly heterosexual amount of space between them.

“Um, I’m just gonna go,” Regulus settled on, backing up towards the door.

“I’m seriously sorry, Black. It’s just something I do — doesn’t usually backfire like that.” Regulus just nodded, leaving quickly.

“Potter?” He stopped halfway through the door and James looked up. “Thanks.” James didn’t get any time to reply as Regulus was long gone, leaving him to cringe on his own. Neither of them would be telling anybody about the incident. Ever.

5. Lily Evans

You and James had been doing your will-they-won’t-they thing for a long time. Not quite since you met, but once you’d both started to notice the opposite sex you’d been participating in a battle of who could resist the longest. Teasing and cajoling were staples of your relationship. Whilst it had started as a way to pass the time; James had been in love with Lily since second year and you just liked to tease, at some point the feelings crossed over into a real and dangerous territory. However, neither of you wanted to do anything in case the feelings weren’t reciprocated, and truthfully hadn’t realised the true depth of them.

You and James were the only ones not to see the obvious: the feelings were absolutely reciprocated. It was tearing your friends apart, trying to get one of you to finally confess before you finished school forever. There were bets in place, pep talks and everything else the Gryffindors could think of to finally cause the event they’d been hoping for. Eventually, Lily had had enough.

One day you were all hanging out in your dormitory, most of you doing your homework and Marlene fiddling with a record player, trying to get it to come back to life.

“So, what would you guys think if I gave James a chance?” Lily asked, too coy to be genuine, but you were caught off-guard enough that you didn’t notice. “I mean, I know I’ve said some terrible things over the years, but now that he’s backed off he’s actually a really nice guy.”

“But… James?” You asked incredulously, essay immediately forgotten.

“Yeah, why not? He’s the hottest guy in our year, and if all goes to shit it’s only a few months until we graduate and I’ll never have to see him again.”

“But it’s James!” The rest of the girls had caught on to what Lily was scheming and delighted in joining in.

“Why shouldn’t she? It’s not like you like him, right?” Mary asked, studying your expressions. You hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right words. And just when they thought Lily had finally succeeded in getting the ball rolling you answered: “No, of course not. You go ahead, Lils.”

What started as a ploy to get you to admit your feelings only snowballed from there when Lily realised she couldn’t just back out now. And so she hatched a plan. Everything was going perfectly; Sirius and Remus had made sure the common room was devoid of younger students so no unhelpful rumours could be spread, and Marlene had been hanging out with you all evening to make sure you stuck to the schedule she’d devised.

With perfect precision, you and Marlene entered through the portrait just as Lily came down from the dorms.

“Hey, Potter,” She called, and James looked up curiously from his game of wizard’s chess. The redhead marched over to him, cupping both of his cheeks and kissing him strongly. Your jaw dropped open. You couldn’t believe Lily was just going for it like that, but even more you couldn’t believe the sick feeling creeping up from your stomach. You looked at Marlene, who only looked marginally less shocked. A glance around the room proved similar. Although they all knew Lily’s plan, it was two entirely different things to hear about her scheme to get the two of you together and seeing Lily Evans kissing James Potter.

“I’ve, uh, gotta go,” You mumbled, somehow finding your footing to run from the room, desperate to get anywhere where you didn’t have to see that, and the subsequent (or so you believed) union of a happy couple.

Lily pulled away from the kiss, eyes immediately trying to find you and she was puzzled when she couldn’t. A look at Marlene told her all she needed to know and her heart sank; she’d failed. James was looking a little more dazed than the head girl, and suddenly looked terribly awkward in his seat.

“Look, Lils. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t feel that way about you anymore. There’s— there’s someone else, and I, I have to go.” With that James headed up to his dormitory, and the rest of your friends stood in a thick silence for several moments.

“I think I just made everything worse,” Lily said, and then the chaos started.

“What the fuck did you think was going to happen?” Sirius asked loudly, running a stressed hand through his hair.

“I don’t know! I just figured maybe they’d have an epiphany and both realise they’d rather be kissing each other!” Lily cried, throwing herself into an armchair.

You

Lily was right, she’d unintentionally made everything worse. You were upset at what you’d seen and the story you’d attributed to it, and even more so at your terribly timed realisation of your feelings. Because of this you’d started avoiding James in an effort to get over him, which only made you more miserable that you couldn’t talk to your favourite person. James, in turn, hadn’t seen you enter the common room on the night of the kiss and so believed —and dearly hoped — that you were blissfully ignorant, and so was equally perplexed and distraught at the space between you. He’d tried to approach you about it but you evaded him or turned him away every time.

“Hey, love, can we please—”

“It’s fine, James,” You interrupted him, “It was all just a bit of fun, right? All the flirting, the being touchy. But now you’re with Lily and I’ll back off, I get it, don’t worry. I wish you two every happiness.” You tried to sound as genuine as you could while sadness bit at your heart, and left James standing astounded in the corridor. Now he knew that you’d seen the kiss the issue was obvious, but the solution remained a mystery to him.

You’d taken to Marlene to get your feelings out, and she listened patiently as you rattled off a monologue about your childish jealousy and broken heart. Luckily, she’d discussed how to handle this with Lily — who knew you wouldn’t go to her because of her alleged involvement with James, and set off (hopefully) your friend’s last attempt to get you two together. She finally shook you out of it, frustrated with the lack of action.

“They’re not together,” She said, stopping you in your tracks.

“What?”

“They’re not together,” She repeated, making intense eye contact with you. “It was all this dumb plan Lily had to get the two of you together. She thought if you saw James getting with someone else you’d finally realise your feelings for him. And you did, but you were supposed to stick around to hear Potter reject her and say that he liked someone else, you.” You were shocked into silence, what could you say to that?

“So,” You started carefully, “What do I do now?”

James was in a similar situation with the boys.

“She saw Lily kiss me and now she thinks I like Lily when I like her! Plus, she won’t even be in my presence long enough for me to explain that it’s all just this huge misunderstanding and it’s her I want to be snogging!” James lay dramatically across his bed as the boys sighed.

“Prongs, isn’t it obvious?” Sirius asked and James cocked his head to the side, looking remarkably like a confused puppy. “Do something she can’t ignore. Make a grand gesture to prove your feelings for her.” James thought about it, it made sense. If you wouldn’t hear his explanation, he’d just have to make you.

“How?”

You and James went into the following Saturday with the same goal. It was Gryffindor’s quidditch semi-final, so there was a party being held whatever the outcome. It would be the first time you’d see each other since you’d realised your mistake since training was taking up all of James’ time.

Gryffindor had won, thankfully, which had both of you in higher spirits. The party was already in full swing by the time you got there, opting for a smoke first to calm your nerves. You’d spotted James almost as soon as you entered, always the heart and soul of a party. You marched towards him with a purpose, but as soon as he set eyes on you he jumped up to stand on a table. Someone had lowered the volume of the music — not silent, but low enough so you could hear him yelling over it. He said your full name, clearly and intentionally in a way that had surrounding people look at you curiously.

“I love you,” He said suddenly. “I am in love with you, not anyone else, and whatever made you think that’s not true was just a huge misunderstanding. Because I love you so much, and all I want to do is snog you until I’m the only name you remember, baby.” You let out a short laugh at his vulgarity and the cocky smirk that accompanied it, but a cheek-splitting smile won out when you thought about the preceding words and the sincerity he’d instilled in them. Before you even knew what you were doing you were racing towards him, gratefully taking Peter’s hand to join James on the table.

You honestly couldn’t tell who had initiated the kiss, but you were suddenly so intimately joined together it was like all the air had been sucked out of your lungs, compressing your body in an effort to fuse to his. His strong arms around you couldn’t shield you from the confetti being thrown around (for the match, of course, not just your kiss), nor the catcalls of your friends. You only pulled away when you felt James’ tongue start exploring a little too far, mindful that half the people you knew were watching. You wore matching grins as you parted, foreheads still pressed together and breathing heavy.

While it might have taken four years, innumerable (accidental) kisses and one failed set-up plan to get there, you were sure in your heart that James Potter was the only boy you ever wanted to kiss. And so you did, over and over for the years to come, and you cheered and applauded enthusiastically as the seemingly never ending list of friends and family told stories of receiving a coveted James Potter kiss throughout the years, knowing you were the only one who got to be his bride.

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celestie0 · 1 month ago

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guys its seriously not the end of the world that ihm gojo has an ex wife like fr 😭 he’s a 34 y/o financially stable & attractive grown ass man, i’d be more concerned if he DIDNT have past serious relationships up to this point

some asks i’ve received ab it have been borderline really rude to me about my creative decision to give him the plotline of a past wife who he, yes, was very in love with (or else why tf would he marry her lmfao)

i have received asks of people saying they find it gross, they think that it’s “bullfuckery”, that they actively ignore that aspect of the fic because they disagree/dislike it (like ffs how rude to admit that to me lol), that they don’t think it makes sense for him to be with someone that isn’t reader, that he “loses aura points” for having an ex wife…etc

please think about how that feels to me, as an author, to have my creative decision constantly belittled, questioned, and made irrelevant like that…there are ACTUAL toxic shit you could call a character out for n i wouldnt be mad ab it bc, yknow, that’s warranted. BUT A GROWN MAN HAVING AN EX WIFE? 😭😭

😅 i only really speak up about things when it gets to being too much, and i’m now doing so bc i’ve probably received 15+ asks with these sorts of rhetoric so far and i’m getting kind of sick of it

if you think a 34 y/o man having a prior relationship is “gross” just because it wasn’t with YOU (aka the reader), then i feel like there’s a difference in maturity between you & i and i’d rather not interact w you on that regard

and i’m sorry to say this, but there will be a LOT of ihm gojo’s ex wife in future chapters. there will be an extensive backstory chapter of their marriage too, where i will not shy away from themes of love and sex between them even if it’s not “with the reader”…if you’re gonna feel some type of way about that, then ihm is not the story for you

i don’t resonate with that level of jealousy or possessiveness over a character, hence why i’m comfortable writing about it. if you’re not comfortable reading it, then you’re not going to enjoy what i have planned for ihm

and if you think your passive aggressive words will get me to change my mind about what i choose to do with the story, then you’re wrong

of COURSE he is going to end up with reader in the end, but that doesn’t discount the person that he was before he met her. i want him to stand in ihm as one of the main characters in his own right, n not just as the “love interest”

like idk i just feel awful bc it’s like every month i have to come on here and make some type of boundaries over these sorts of asks that i get n idk if it’s a me problem at this point lmfao?? but i just don’t understand the entitled and rude language that is often thrown my way w regards to my works 😅 but i can’t sit by and pretend like i’m ok with it hence why i’m speaking up and will continue to speak up if it teaches some of you about fanfic author/reader etiquette

as always ily to all my other readers obv this just applies to the rude few n not to all my other beautiful angels 😃😃 much love 💕 and i’m gonna take a bit of a break from here so hope you all have a nice week ahead of you

#in holy matriphony #ellie speaks

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niki-phoria · 7 months ago

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EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU, I LIKE IT, I LOVE IT

pairing: fushiguro megumi x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff word count: 505

notes: sorry for the late post, i've been too busy reading zb1 fanfics to write anything lmao, possibly ooc megumi, not proofread, title from soulja boy - kiss me thru the phone

it wasn’t often that FUSHIGURO MEGUMI allowed himself to be vulnerable. even with the people he trusted the most, it always felt as if there was a wall separating him from others - a barrier preventing him from fully allowing himself to feel any love or comfort in fear of it being ripped away again.

it was hard - even if he pretended like it wasn’t.

you had come to see many different sides of megumi over your time at jujutsu high. you had watched his glares become softer and long silences shorten until he would freely share his ideas with you. somehow, when it came to you, all of his defenses had failed, one after another. he found himself looking out for you - watching over your training sessions; following after you during missions; waiting at your bedside when you got hurt.

something about megumi was different. something about you was different.

falling for you was fast. it happened before megumi had realized what was happening. brief glances had become nervous touches, and nervous touches had become long conversations that lasted far into the early hours of the morning until megumi found himself lying beside you in your bed, falling into a deep sleep almost as quickly as you did.

the morning had come quickly and quietly. sunlight seeps into your dorm room through your open blinds, casting your sleeping figure in golden light. megumi watches intently as your chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm; stray strands of hair frame your relaxed features.

despite himself, megumi smiles softly at the sight. he reaches up before gingerly resting his hand against your cheek, stroking his thumb against your skin. “y/n,” megumi whispers. you stir in response; your face twitches as you bury your face into the crook of his neck. the feeling causes heat to spread across his face and goosebumps to rise along his skin. “come on. we have a mission.”

you lazily wrap your arms around his waist, tugging your body closer until your head rests against his chest. megumi does his best to ignore the butterflies swarming throughout his stomach to little avail. “not yet,” you rasp out, nuzzling yourself even closer to him.

he purses his lips. your body is warm beneath the covers as you nuzzle yourself even closer to him. as much as he hates to admit it, megumi would much rather lay in bed with you then watch you risk your life to kill a curse yet again.

“gojo-sensei will be upset if we’re late,” he sighs. cool hands slip underneath the fabric of your shirt, tracing shapes into your bare skin. you startle momentarily at the feeling, but don’t move much otherwise. “y/n…”

you simply frown in response, tightening your grip around his waist. “five more minutes,” you murmur. megumi freezes when you blink up at him with flushed cheeks and tired eyes. “please?”

it wasn’t often that megumi allowed himself to be vulnerable. but with a request like that, how could he ever say no?

taglist (open! send an ask/dm to be added): @sunoooism @vamxpi @sad-darksoul @kamote-kuneho

if you liked this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, check out my jjk masterlist <33

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shenachigans · 2 years ago

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I OWE YOU | Wednesday Addams

PAIRING: Wednesday Addams x Gn!Reader

CW: fluff, Wednesday and Y/n are not dating yet, harmless threats, sudden outburst because of trauma, mentions of trauma, Wednesday and Y/n have a crush on each other

SUMMARY: Wednesday accidentally reawakens a trauma, so she makes it up to you by letting you hug her, which turns into her spooning you on Enid’s bed.

A/N: First time writing for Wednesday and writing fluff.

WORDS: 2,450

(FANFIC IS UNDER THE CUT!)

Ever since Wednesday first attended Nevermore, she would often see you in her and Enid’s dorm to fool around with your best friend. Bursts of laughter, blasting music, and gossip would resonate from the bright side of the dorm room to the plain yet elegant black and white side of the room.

At first, Wednesday thought of the liveliness of Enid’s side of the dorm as a nuisance—an obstacle that prevents her from focusing on writing her novel. However, as months passed during the semester, she didn’t mind your presence.

Wednesday would rather carve her eyes out than admit it to your face though. The tingling and unusual sensations she felt on her chest whenever you were around irked her. It was out of her character to feel attraction towards you, but love works in complicated ways. She grew fond of the thrill of breaking character—her way of saying how she loved the feeling of liking you.

When you first met Wednesday, you didn’t mind her too much, but you weren’t scared of her like the other students were when she first came to the school. She was just there, tagging along with you and Enid, but you never found her to be a problem despite her gruesome past and rumors. She was likable, but you put your feelings aside because you knew she wasn’t looking for a relationship, let alone romance.

You grew comfortable in her presence and treated her like any other while respecting her boundaries. Which boundaries? Physical contact boundaries. It was hard not to randomly tackle someone you knew into a hug as it was your love language, but you tried your best not to make Wednesday uncomfortable. You wish you could hug her at least once in your life. You always told her why you wouldn’t touch her so she wouldn’t misunderstand—if she cared anyway.

Wednesday never told you how bloody adorable you were when you apologized for accidentally sharing a skinship. However, she also wanted you to disrespect her boundaries. She also craved what others experienced—your stubble touches and death-gripping hugs.

She wanted to feel more of your warmth against her cold-stone skin—another thought she would only think of when it was about you. She curses herself when she feels an irking feeling in her guts when she sees your arm wrapped around Enid’s as you three walk. Thing would always tease her for being touch-starved for you, even if he received threats as his replies.

──────────

Today is the first time Enid left you alone with Wednesday after she ran off like a leopard when Ajax suddenly asked her out. You didn’t want to leave Wednesday on her own just because Enid left. Hence, you stayed and waited until your best friend came back.

It was much quieter than the usual energetic night, but you nor Wednesday found the silence awkward. You two silently did your things as she dedicated an hour to her novel while casually having—well, trying to have small talks in between. Wednesday was not one to be disturbed while she wrote.

Thing was there to keep you company until Enid returned. He was an interesting fellow because he was only a hand, but he’s a sweetheart. You took selfies and played games on your phone with him until you two parted ways, as you scrolled on your social media while he read magazines from Enid’s shelf. You eventually fell asleep on your best friend’s bed after getting tired of not doing anything.

Wednesday didn’t notice your sleeping form until she had finished her hour of writing her novel. Thing even told her multiple times, but she ignored the poor appendage. After neatly stacking her finished pages in a pile, she looked at your figure, peacefully sleeping on her roommate’s bed as your chest rose and dropped with each breath.

She rose from her seat and approached you, making your soft snores audible to her ears. The bed dipped as she climbed on the bed to grab your unlocked phone to put it aside. Before she pressed the off button, she saw a selfie of you, Enid, and her winning the Allen Poe cup as your wallpaper. The smile she adores that adorned your face was so contagious it made her lips twitch upwards. She then closed your phone and placed it on Enid’s side table.

Wednesday sat on the bedside and watched your sleeping figure—curled into fetus position—with soft eyes. She leaned in to kiss your forehead as if someone had controlled her body to do so. As soon as her lips touched your skin, you flinched awake as if you had a nightmare.

Your instincts made you grip Wednesday’s shoulders and slam her onto Enid’s bed as you straddled her. You and Wednesday were caught off guard—eyes wide and huffing from the sudden actions as you looked at each other. You looked at her as if she was an assassin sent to kill you during your slumber, not your friend.

“How dare you,” you gritted as you looked down at her with stern eyes—an expression she hadn’t seen on your face before, catching her off guard again. It must’ve been because of the murderous intent that shone in your eyes as you looked at her.

Wednesday thought you were always rainbows and butterflies, but she was mistaken. Everyone has a dark side buried within their hearts, and you only masked it with your joyful and innocent mask. She does want to see that side of you—how gruesome your other self was—but tonight was not the right time.

She tried to cup your cheek to get you out of your trance, but you gripped her wrists and pinned them above her head, burying them onto your best friend’s bed. Shen then huffed and called your name with tenderness without realizing it.

“Y/n L/n, calm down,” Wednesday muttered. Her voice snapped you out of your little world, and your eyes widened when you realized the position you forced upon you two. You quickly got off Wednesday and crossed your legs before her as she did the same.

“Sorry. Instincts,” you muttered as you looked down, embarrassed by your sudden outburst. “Normies would sneak up on me and do bullshit during my sleep before I went to Nevermore—became a habit, y’know?”

You thought you stopped attacking people who touched you as you slept, but it seemed that Wednesday proved you wrong. You knew you, Thing, and Wednesday were the only ones in the dorm, so you didn’t need to react like that.

Was it because her touch felt so foreign?—something you never thought she would do? Did you suddenly attack her because the chills you felt from the warm touch of her lips caught you off guard and made you think she was someone else?

“Trauma should be the right word,” Wednesday stated as she looked at you with her signature death stare before looking down to massage her wrists to release the tension from your death grip. “Do that again, and you will have to sleep with an eye open.”

“Very funny, Addams,” you chuckled before getting up from the bed to leave Enid and Wednesday’s dorm to head to your own since it was getting late. Enid must’ve lost track of time and forgotten how she left you in the dorm With Wednesday because of Ajax. “I’d like to see you try. It’d be a challenge for you since I barely sleep.”

“Where do you think you are going?” Wednesday asked as she raised a brow—eyes following your figure as you shuffled about to get out of bed. She can’t have you leave now that you two are alone for the first time without any prying eyes. She needed to do something before you retired to your dorm. “I don’t remember telling you to leave.”

You were taken aback by the tone of her voice, as it was something you’d never heard from her before. You two are constantly surprising each other, and you find that quite romantic. First, you catch her off guard with your outburst. Second, she surprises you with her unusual tone.

“I don’t remember needing your permission to leave, Wednesday Addams,” you jokingly shot back as you returned to your sitting position on Enid’s bed. You cross your arms and lift your chin to look down at her to return her unspoken staring challenge. “I’m going to my dorm since it’s late. Why are you asking me to stay, hm? Longing-for-my-presence much?”

“Embrace me,” she simply states, making you choke on air from the sudden command. She looked at you with furrowed eyebrows as you went on a coughing fit. “Don’t die a dull death, Y/n.”

“Y-You want ME to hug YOU?” you mumbled, flabbergasted, as you regained your composure—patting your chest as you did to help you breathe. “Never thought THE Wednesday Addams would request a hug from a plain, old me.”

“It was not a request. It was a command. I’m only doing this because it seems that I reawakened a trauma of yours. Consider it as returning what I owe you,” Wednesday glared as her arms slowly spread wide, expecting you to jump in her arms as you did with others. “Don’t sit there and wait until I change my mind.”

“Of course, of course, your highness,” you teased before approaching Wednesday. Your comment made her furrow her brows with discontent, and her arms fall to her sides. Your teasing went too far, it seems. “W-Wait! I was just joking!”

Wednesday had already gotten out of Enid’s bed as pleas spilled from your mouth. She looked down at you with a bitter expression—not that you could notice—before she spun on her heel to walk to her bed. Before she could take a step, you had stood on your knees on the bed and hugged her from behind, catching her off guard. She noticed it was different from your bone-crushing embraces as it was gentler, but she liked it.

“I got carried away,” you mumbled against Wednesday’s back as you wrapped your arms around her waist, securing her in place. Her hands gently held onto your hand, making you tighten your hold on her as you thought she was breaking free, but she didn’t. “You’re huggable material, Addams. It’s cute—you’re cute,” you chuckled, content with the embrace.

“Describe me with the word ‘cute’ again, and I will not hesitate to chop your tongue off with a butcher’s knife,” Wednesday muttered as she turned to face you, making your head press on her chest. She looked down at you and saw how you looked up at her with mischievous eyes as if you were content with irritating her. “You can let go now. It seems that your usual self is back.”

“Oh, no, no. I’m still traumatized, Wednesday,” you countered and buried your face further against her. She stiffly stood there as you hogged her body to yourself. She didn’t return the embrace, but you were grateful for the one-sided embrace as it was better than nothing.

You basked in her coldness, but you could feel a slight warmth near her heart. It was comfortable, and you were happy. You two stayed in that position until you opened your eyes when an idea crossed your mind. You let her go to proceed with your plan, but you missed the slight scowl that painted her face.

“This sudden adrenaline rush won’t make me calm down easily. I command you to give me cuddles,” you huffed and pointed at her, then at Enid’s bed before laying down in a fetal position. “You’re the big spoon. Now, come,” you smiled as you patted the spot behind you. “This is part of what you owe me.”

Wednesday stood there like she was rethinking her life decisions by letting you embrace her. You simply lay there and waited for her to comply with your command. She huffed when you had no plans of changing your mind and proceeded to tuck herself into bed, not spooning you—laying on someone else’s bed was embarrassing enough for her.

“Suit yourself,” you huffed at her stubbornness, which you found cute, before succumbing to darkness again as all the adrenaline seeped out of your body as quickly as it came.

After a few minutes, Wednesday laid on her other side to face your back, watching you sleep. You weren’t in a deep sleep Wednesday thinks because you were still aware of your surroundings. She eyed your sleeping figure before scooting closer and hesitantly draping an arm around your waist.

At first, the position was awkward since Wednesday hadn’t embraced someone in bed before, but she got more comfortable when she relaxed her tense body since she found your warm soothing. She buried her face in the crook of your neck, basking in your soothing scent and lulling her to sleep. She can’t believe she’s letting her pride fail her for something as trivial as this.

“I knew you would cuddle me eventually,” you muttered, half-awake, making her slightly jolt. “You make a great big spoon, Wednesday. We should cuddle more.”

“Don’t make me change my mind,” Wednesday seethed, but you just lazily snuggled closer to her hold as you found comfort in her arms. She expected a comment, but you went back to sleep, content with the warmth of her body. “How rude,” she mumbled, a slight smile washing over her features before she followed you into the pit of darkness.

The rest of the night was peaceful as you and Wednesday slept on Enid’s bed. Wednesday had never had such a nice rest—almost cursing herself for letting her guard down during her sleep, unlike how she usually does. The dorm was unbothered because Enid had retired to Yoko’s dorm since her shared dorm was at the top of the floor. She couldn’t risk Ms. Thornhill catching her walking about in the hallways.

Unbeknownst to you, Enid almost lost her fingers the next day when she woke Wednesday with a snap of her phone camera as she attempted to take a picture of you and her roommate sleeping in a picture-worthy position. Your best friend could’ve also lost her feet if she didn’t comply with Wednesday’s command to delete the pictures of her camera roll.

“Ajax declined her date offer,” Wednesday butted in when you asked Enid about her foul mood. However, the real reason why Enid was in a gloomy mood was that she couldn’t keep the cute pics of you and Wednesday peacefully sleeping in each other’s arms. Wednesday knew Enid would post it on her blog, so she had to threaten her to gatekeep your cuteness.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #gn reader #fem reader #wednesday #wednesday 2022 #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader

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f1daydreamers · 4 months ago

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𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬 [𝐓𝐀𝟔𝟔] 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏

gif credits: @trenty

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Fem!Reader

Summary: Arne, in hopes to focus on his team’s mental health as much as their physical, recruits a younger but just as educated psychologist to work one-to-one with the more reserved players. Trent is one of them.

A/N: This is me writing in hopes to distract myself from that abysmal final! Just to preface that Lee Richardson is the performance psychology consultant at LFC :) Also, I feel like Trent’s quite shy so I don’t think he’d be as rude as he is in this fanfic but for this to be a kinda enemies to lovers, I upped his rude boi energy by like 100% lol

There's no age gap btw! In the UK, it's doable to become a licensed sports psychologist in 6-10 years. If it took Reader 7/8, that would place her around 25 or 26 years of age. So, both Trent and Reader are of similar ages!

Warnings: psychology but nothing too in-depth, Trent’s rude in this :D, angst, very tense energy

Word Count: 1.9k words (6 mins reading time avg)

…

You checked your watch once, twice, then three times within a mere five minutes.

The sterile office, with its minimalist decor and muted lighting, seemed to magnify your impatience. Your eyes wandered to the vacant chair opposite you, and you sighed deeply.

Trent Alexander-Arnold was now fifteen minutes late for his first appointment.

“Not the best start,” you muttered under your breath.

Jotting a quick note on a pink Post-it to purchase a digital clock for your desk, you flipped the pen and clicked it shut, placing it down with a resigned finality. The email that landed in your inbox felt almost comically timed. It was from Lee, wishing you luck on your first official day.

You’d been in and out of the training center for the past week, organising your office, which had previously served as a spare room, often only used for the odd meetings.

Boxy and unfamiliar, it was a space you intended to transform into something warmer and more inviting with time. But any attempt to distract yourself proved futile; even the mental image of your office becoming a cozy haven couldn’t quell the unrest you felt inside.

Trent’s absence was more than a minor inconvenience; it felt like a deliberate message. After what Lee had disclosed about his rather aloof attitude, you couldn’t say you were entirely surprised.

Locking your office behind you, you ventured into the heart of the training facility. As you passed by groups of players and staff, your shoulders tensed imperceptibly. You adjusted your pace, trying to find a balance between caution and confidence.

Every corner turned, every nod exchanged with passing colleagues, felt like a small test of acceptance. Your mind raced with thoughts of proving yourself here. While a flicker of self-doubt danced across your features, you masked it beneath a veneer of professional composure.

You eventually found Trent tucked away in the far corner of a sparsely populated gym. A few exchanged ‘good mornings’ and ‘hellos’ momentarily eased your stress, but your tension returned as your gaze settled again on the man who had been purposefully late.

With a deep breath, you started heading towards him, weaving your way through the labyrinth of gym equipment.

You skirted around the treadmills, their rhythmic thudding echoing your own anxious heartbeat. Passing by the clanking weights, you dodged a few stray dumbbells left on the floor. The aroma of rubber mats and iron filled the air.

Finally, you rounded the weightlifting machines and found Trent on a mat, engrossed in his exercises. His headphones were still firmly in place, and his expression remained inscrutably focused, as though he was blocking out the world around him.

When you finally reached him, you hesitated, wanting to wait until he finished his set so as not to disturb his workout.

However, Trent spotted your reflection in the mirror in front of him as he came up. He stopped mid-crunch, the beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. He looked down, knowing exactly what this would be in regard of. He’d seen you around the training grounds enough to be familiar.

His elbows rested on his knees as his arms folded inward. He exhaled deeply, trying to regulate his breathing.

He wiped the tip of his nose with the pad of his thumb, then pulled his headphones off and let them rest around his neck.

“What?” He looked at you with mild irritation, craning his neck to see you standing just a few steps behind him.

Your lips pressed together in a courteous and tight-lipped smile.

“Hi, Trent. I’m Y/N, the new psychologist. We had an appointment scheduled for twenty minutes ago.”

Turning back to face the mirror, he stretched his arms out in front of him before reaching for a hand towel to wipe the sweat from his brow and neck.

Then he shrugged, his indifference palpable.

“Yeah, I know.” Your eyebrows furrowed at his response as you studied his expression in the mirror. His face shifted subtly, but the changes were too fleeting to decipher.

“Then why didn’t you show up?” you asked, your tone calm but firm.

"I don't see the point," he responded flatly.

In one fluid motion, he planted one palm firmly on the ground before twisting his torso and hoisting himself up with a push, turning to face you as he rose gracefully to his feet.

Your eyes locked inevitably, the proximity of his body left you no choice but to gaze up at his face, your chin tilting ever so slightly upward.

Beads of sweat glistened from his forehead, and his mouth was slightly parted as he scrutinised you from head to toe. A scoff escaped him before he turned away, sliding off some weight plates and placing them methodically beside his mat.

"I don’t need some shrink telling me how to play football," he asserted dismissively, the hints of his accent colouring his defiant tone.

You took a moment to consider your response, your gaze tracing the broad shape of his shoulders. Despite the urge to react defensively, you couldn’t shake the awareness that someone might be listening in from behind you.

You cautiously approached him, aware of the tension hanging in the air, his eyes flicking to your reflection in the mirror.

"I'm not here to tell you how to play football," you began calmly, letting the weight of your words settle between you. "I'm here to help you navigate everything off the pitch that might impact your performance on it."

"Well, thanks, but no thanks," Trent said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I've managed fine so far."

“Have you?” you questioned, quickly scanning the room for any prying ears, relieved to find everyone engrossed in their own routines.

Trent rose up, clutching a 15-pound weight plate between his hands.

"Because from where I stand, the club thinks you could use some support. And honestly, there's no shame in that." That was a saying your professors had instilled in you from day one.

Trent's jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might ignore you. Instead, he pivoted to face you once more, his presence suddenly palpable.

"Look, I get that you're just doing your job, yeah? But don't expect me to pour my heart out to some stranger. Especially on someone else's schedule." He emphasised.

You blinked, but maintained eye contact, refusing to back down. "Fair enough. But I'm not going anywhere, Trent. Whether you like it or not, I'll keep trying to reach you."

He studied you for a moment, then shook his head slightly, leaning in just a bit closer.

"Good luck with that, psychologist."

…

"I think that's our time wrapped up, thank you so much, Conor." You hoisted yourself up with the armrests of your chair and gave a warm smile to the man opposite you.

"Yeah, no worries. I'll see you around." Conor said as he turned, rounding the chair he was just sitting on, giving you a final nod and smile before leaving and closing the door behind him.

You waited until it clicked shut before you sinked into your chair again. Your work was deeply important to you, one of few things in life you were immensely passionate about, but man, it took its toll on longer days.

You rubbed your temples in a poor attempt to alleviate the dull ache that had formed from hours of conversation. As you tried to gather your thoughts, the interruption in the form of a new email snapped you back to reality.

It was from Lee, asking you to come and see him when you were free.

Your head rolled back for a brief moment of respite. Trent had been on your mind ever since your confrontation earlier, lingering in the back of your thoughts throughout the day, despite the overall improvement as the hours ticked by.

Resigning yourself to more work, you pushed yourself up with a temporary surge of motivation. Straightening your blouse and combing your hair with your fingers, you headed towards Lee's office across the hall.

The door stood ajar, a silver name plaque bearing his name neatly affixed. Lee's office exuded an air of scholarly authority, with shelves lined with books, framed certificates adorning the walls, and strategically placed pieces of Liverpool memorabilia.

He glanced up from his desk as you knocked on the doorframe.

"You asked to see me?" you inquired, your head tilting slightly as he closed the folder he was reading, sliding it into the filing cabinet behind him.

"Yes, come in," Lee replied, gesturing toward the chair positioned across from him.

You smoothed down your skirt as you settled into the chair, intertwining your hands on your lap.

His demeanor exuded encouragement, warmth evident in the gentle lines of his smile. As he gathered his thoughts, your eyes fell upon a framed picture on his desk. Lee stood on the far left, flanked by several players including Trent and Curtis, their bright smiles frozen in time.

Your own smile deepened at the sight, noting how much younger they all appeared in the photograph. But as today's events replayed in your mind, your gaze momentarily lowered before returning to meet Lee's.

"A few years ago, that one," he pointed briskly at the photo, though he didn't give you time to respond before changing the topic - a relief, in your opinion.

"So," Lee clasped his hands together, "first official day? How'd it go?"

Pushing back thoughts of Trent deliberately, today had gone rather well.

"Good, honestly. Wataru and Conor were a little shy at first, but I think I was able to break through by the end of our sessions. Curtis was quite bubbly and a joy to talk to. We had some positive discussions too." You truthfully answered, giving a polite smile to round off your answer.

He nodded, impressed. Without a word, he turned to squint at his computer screen, his glasses perched atop his head. "And Trent?"

You cleared your throat, your tongue swiping over your bottom lip nervously. After a moment's hesitation, you shook your head once before answering.

"Trent didn't show up." You admitted with a wry smile. "I found him in the gym and brought it up but I wouldn't say that was a positive discussion."

Lee chuckled softly, his voice carrying a gentleness that belied his words. "Trent’s a tough nut. He’s got a lot on his shoulders and doesn't easily trust new people. But that's why you're here."

You nodded resolutely. "Absolutely. I don't intend on letting up."

"If you want me to step in-" He began but you shook your head again, halting him in the middle of his sentence.

"I respectfully don't think that's going to help. He's not exactly trusting of me right now, and I'm worried about the impression you stepping in might leave. I'm fortunate he's at least talking to me and sharing his feelings." You said with a measured tone, your words careful and tinged with a hint of apprehension.

"Well, you're the pro," you smiled at his joke, exhaling a sigh.

"I'm relying on your guidance, Lee. I can only hope he'll start working with me."

Lee nodded thoughtfully. "Trent respects effort and authenticity. He's introverted, sure, but once he's comfortable, he's a lovely lad."

"I'm sure," you blinked, fiddling nervously with your fingers.

Once he's comfortable.

That shouldn't take too long, you lied to yourself.

...

Part 2

Masterlist

Comment below if you want to be part of the taglist! Once you are part of it, you'll be reminded for every part of the series until its completion!

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hornyjorny · 7 months ago

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following the river

summary: almost a frame-by-frame fanfic of river's scene in-game, but better :3 ish!! an- guys i am so fucking sorry i haven't posted in fucking AGES i've been absolutely dogged with work n shit and i'm depressed as fuck. anyway. here's to my loyal river fans (all twelve of us) hashtag justice for river ward ive literally spent months on this for no reason warnings- smut (18+ mdni), cowgirl, first time, you're both nervous as fuck, multiple positions, switch!v, switch!river, fucking the police, johnny ment, oral (f receiving and very brief lol), missionary, mild angst with cavity-inducing sweetness at the end, river and v are very much in love, cuddles

wc: 9.2k

If you had told yourself you’d be spending the night with an NCPD badge a month ago, you woulda’ laughed in your very own fuckin’ face. But between those heated kisses and those soft, hushed whispers, River Ward leads you by the hand into the silence of his bedroom— and it all feels far too unreal.

But the truth is, reality is a bitch. And now here you are, tangled in a contradiction of your own making. Guess you misunderstood the whole “FUCK THE POLICE” thing.

He oughtta be chasing you down, not holding you close. But fuck, this whole situation with River is just so thrilling, and it’s absolutely undeniable that he’s more than just some badge.

There’s kindness, there’s goodness in him that transcends that old, dumbass uniform he used to wear. Night City may be bleeding, and Johnny Silverhand may be a relentless presence in your head, but River offers something more—a promise of a future beyond the consistent chaos as he leads you into the quietness of the trailer.

To be honest, you’re not sure if you’re entirely in love with River— sure, you’re attracted, and sure, your heart beats a million times faster when he’s around, and sure, you think about him all the fucking time, but shit, you don’t know love. But fuck, whether you deserve it or not, there’s just something about him, you don’t know what feels… safe.

River represents something you’ve never really had: hope. The hope for a promise of an actual future— a real-ass life. Not just surviving but living— happily, at that.

And for tonight, that’s enough.

Never before have you encountered someone as gentle, as fucking sweet as River. His kindness, his sincerity, it's like a lifeline amid chaos. But with each tender moment, each stolen kiss, you can't shake the gnawing feeling of guilt eating away at you. Oh, how you don’t want to feel this way, but here you are regardless, falling and falling for River, and allowing yourself to embrace the sensation of being vulnerable in more ways than one. And oh— is it such a bad time to catch feelings; your time on this earth is limited.

You’re a merc, one with a ticking timebomb of a narcissistic rockerboy lodged into your head, just waiting to take over your body, waiting for you to finally kick the bucket so he can take control. You’re not exactly girlfriend material. You’re neither beautiful nor are you admirable. You are tired. You are bruised.

You're a mercenary, a killer by trade, and here you are, falling for a cop—a man dedicated to upholding the law you so often break.

You know you should push River away, distance yourself before it's too late. But goddamn it, you can't bring yourself to do it.

It’s almost funny, you think. Funny to have found a love oh-so-precious—oh-so beautiful, only to have it ripped away from you by a little piece of plastic nestled in your skull. River’s warmth, his unwavering support, it's all both a blessing and a curse. You desperately want to hold onto this love, to cherish every moment you have left, but the knowledge that your time is running out gnaws at your very soul.

You sigh. Fuck, you know you can’t think about this now— you know it’s best to enjoy the moment rather than to trouble yourself with the moral implications of it all right now. You’ll destroy yourself otherwise.

And little do you know, but River’s thoughts are mirroring your own. He's fucking scared, terrified of the way you've woven yourself into the fabric of his life. As a detective, he's seen the darkest corners of Night City, the horrors that lurk in the shadows. But when it comes to you, he's lost, unsure of how to navigate the maze of emotions that swirl within him.

You're the very embodiment of everything he's sworn to protect the city against. And yet, he can't help but fall for you. Behind the walls you've erected to shield yourself from the world, he sees the vulnerability, the genuine warmth that draws him to you like a moth to a flame. But there's a part of him that fears the truth, that fears what he might discover if he delves too deep into your world. And as you stand together in the silence of the night, wrapped in each other's arms, you can't help but wonder if this fragile bubble of happiness is destined to burst, leaving nothing but broken pieces in its wake.

The linoleum floor creaks beneath your steps as River leads you further, navigating the narrow hallway. Anxiety continues to brew within him—shit, he just hopes you like him back.

He hopes his choice is right. He hopes he made the right choice by bringing you around.

But all of the chaos, all the fear building within, completely evaporates away when his eyes finally meet yours, his anxiety dissipating into nothingness. Tonight, all he wants is for the two of you to be one, where nothing in the world matters. It makes everything else seem so distant and minuscule, and that, oh, it’s the closest thing to heaven that he’s ever known.

Nothin’ else matters—except for the moment.

River pauses at one of the entryways, silently gesturing to his niece and nephew, sleeping peacefully. You understand what he’s communicating to you immediately.

You two need to be quiet tonight.

Tonight is the perfect time to forget that you’re a mercenary and he’s a cop. No badges, no guns, no uniforms—and no parasitic rockstar in your head, either. Just you and him.

So you nod your head in acknowledgment as you ease past the kids and follow him into the silence of his bedroom. Your stomach flutters in your chest; oh, fuck, you feel like a couple of giddy-ass teenagers.

You’re relentless, in all the right ways. Your desperation to feel River, to kiss him— it’s intoxicating. Once the door clicks shut, you immediately rise up on your tippy-toes with zero hesitation to press your lips against his; you could do nothing else.

Fucking finally.

One kiss, and you know you’re addicted to the taste of his lips on your own. You know then, that nothing else could give you such a natural high. You must confess, that your thoughts are impure, and the fire is burning within your bones. Shit, it excites you so much, just the idea of riding him absolutely senseless— you’re gonna fuck away his entire moral compass by the end of the night.

It’s as your lips press together, with all the desire arousal, and heat you have to offer, a wave of cruel exhaustion washes over you as River embraces you, finally making its way to the forefront of your mind. His warmth almost feels like a blanket, of sorts, soft and comforting.

A soft pleased hum escapes River’s lips as he presses himself against you, moving his hands to grip the back of your head tightly, returning your kiss with the same raw passion. His arms are wrapped around your waist, his body pressing against yours— fuck, it feels so nice to be held by a body that feels like home.

And for once, it's not Johnny who takes over your thoughts, but River. You need him—now. The heat of his lips on yours is fucking intense. It's like everything else in the city fades away, and for once, even Johnny’s presence is just a distant buzz in your mind.

And all there is, that's all that matters—River, you, and the rest warmth of his lips pressed against yours.

Your fingers claw at the fabric of his tank top, holding onto him tightly as you kiss him with every ounce of passion that’s been building up within you for entirely too long. You’ve wanted this—you’ve fucking needed this, needed to feel the warmth of another in a world so dauntingly cold.

Every breath feels new, every sensation is amplified, and all you can focus on is River. River, River, River. He’s real, and you feel him like never before. He’s yours, and you’re his.

Your breath is getting shorter, and your thoughts are being consumed with just one word: more. More, more, more. You need to feel his love.

How good it feels to have something real. And fuck, is it nice to have something else on your mind except for your impending and unavoidable death. No Johnny, no Arasaka, no Relic. Just you. Just him. Just two desperate people wanting desperately to cling to the idea of feeling alive for just one night.

You practically moan into his mouth as you lean back, letting his strong, secure arms wrap around your body. You press your body up into his, craving his warmth, craving his presence, craving him. It’s like you’re slipping into a deep trance-like state, one where all that matters in this very instant is River, this one fucking detective, this one stupid badge.

“River,” you whine quietly. “I need you.”

The words slip out before you even have time to stop them, the sound of them leaving your ears ringing.

Fuck, does he feel like the luckiest person alive when you utter those little words, the sound of them barely audible against the city’s distant hum? For such a tough merc, you sound so cute—so needy, that it makes his heart jump in his chest. It’s such an unexpected, quick change for you, and you swear you catch his mechanical eye shining a little brighter as his rough hands graze against your hips. His body presses tightly against yours, lowering his voice to a whisper that makes your tummy flutter.

“Shhh… I know ya do, V…”

The words feel so foreign slipping from his lips, but god, he can’t help it. River leans even closer to you until you can feel the warm breath of his body tingling inside your ear—his lips press up against your neck softly, trailing little wet kisses up and down the sensitive skin there.

“Just let go…”

River whispers again, moving his hand down your back and caressing the skin that he can feel through the thin fabric of your shirt. His lips flutter up and down along your neck, nibbling gently on your skin. Rough, calloused hands trace down your body, before pulling your hips to his so there’s no space between you.

River’s voice turns deep; husky.

“Just let go of everything but me…”

After all, he’s done for the city, for the world, no one has ever wanted him in such a way that they wanted him, not just his title, his body, but the person behind the piercing glow of his mechanical eye.

River’s ganic hand trails gingerly up and down your torso, his fingers playing gently with the fabric of your shirt as his lips press against your neck. The delicate sensation sends ripples of pleasure through your core— fuck— you’re getting wet.

His words trigger an immediate response from you. Excitedly, you push back against him as you moan quietly in his ear, fingers digging into the fabric of his red tank top— breath halting in your chest, growing shorter and more agitated. You raise on your tippy toes, attempting to return the favor by kissing his neck.

As you push yourself forward, pressing yourself against him, pushing a hand behind his neck, your fingers grip tight along the back of his neck. Slowly, you brace one hand on his chest, your thumb rubbing along the hard muscle that hides below his shirt, your other hand falling to fidget with the neckline of his tank.

You can feel it— he’s muscular; he’s strong and hard. He’s aboutta be all yours, and the thought alone makes you feel weak, weak in the knees with how hot he is.

When you’re slipping your hands below his shirt to feel the skin beneath, River’s steadiness finally falters. Unknowingly, he backs up into his desk, causing an empty beer bottle to topple over— crashing to the floor in the silence of the trailer.

Fuck.

For a brief moment, panic seizes over your entire being. Shit. Your heart pounds in your chest, shit, shit, shit— what if you woke everyone up with the crash? What if he’s upset with you for pulling such a gonk move, fuckin’ shoving him into his desk? What about the mess?

You swear you’re doomed.

But to your surprise, River's expression softens, a hint of amusement dancing in his mechanical stare. Was his amn fault for being so clumsy, anyway.

When the warmth of his lips caress yours, you feel a deep wave of relief. Thank fuck— you think to yourself as you realize that your actions didn’t cause all hell to break loose.

Instead, he’s too amused by your excitement, and that only serves to turn you on all the more. Hell— River finds it adorable how badly you want him. He can deal with the mess later. He’s too lost in you, too lost in the tide of passion to give a shit. Instead, his focus is entirely on you, and all rational thought is overshadowed.

His hands find their way to either side of your face, his touch gentle yet possessive, as if he's determined to memorize every curve and contour of your face. River stops, an urgent whisper, his voice barely above a breathy murmur.

“You've got me. Don't let go. Don't let this moment, this feeling—this feeling of you and me, don't let it end.”

But before you can even process the full weight of River’s words, his lips crash into yours with a fervor that leaves you breathless. It’s like a tidal wave, consuming you with its intensity, and you find yourself melting into his embrace without hesitation. You’re safe.

In turn, you respond eagerly, matching his passion with your own, hands roaming freely across his back, pulling him closer with every passing moment. River hums to himself when your smooth lips part upon the brush of his tongue against you— feeling just right. You feel a surge of electricity coursing through your veins, fueling that consuming lust that just keeps on burning brighter and hotter in your lower tummy.

You guide his strong hands, urging him to explore every inch of your being, to revel in the depths of your desire as you surrender yourself completely to the intoxicating bliss of the moment. You need him. The feeling of his sends shivers down your spine, you realize that this—this connection, this unspoken bond—is what you've been searching for all along. In River's arms, you find solace. In his kiss, you find passion. And in that little bit of love between you, you find home.

Like you, River’s mind has started to go hazy, his body filled with heat as he pulls you in tighter, desperate to feel everything at once.

The embrace of your lips turns heated, desperate, his teeth brushing against your bottom lip. Shit, he can’t believe you’re allowing him to touch you like this— he feels like the luckiest fucker in the world. The heat rising in his body is nothing short of intense, it feels so right.

But he needs more.

River pulls away to break the kiss, his gaze slides across your body, admiring you silently, taking note of every little curve, burning through you, silently admitting how lucky he is. Oh, how he never realized desire could be so engulfing until this moment, with you staring right up into his eyes with a vulnerability he cannot ignore. It makes him feel fuckin’ stupid— like he could live in this moment forever.

His movements are slow and deliberate. It's enough to send your heart pumping, your chest heaving, your breath coming in short gasps. When you meet his steely gaze, it feels like his mechanical eye is bearing into your soul.

River moves a palm up to cup your cheek lovingly, before nodding his head in the direction of his bed— a silent command. You immediately know what he’s attempting to communicate. You know what comes next.

And you’re just dying to see it through.

A little rush of pure excitement overtakes you as you rush to the bed, while River turns around for a brief moment. Without a second thought, without any semblance of hesitation, you’re immediately beginning to fumble with the straps of your gear, allowing it to fall all to the ground. Every movement of yours feels like a wave of electric pulsing through your body, a rush of adrenaline that leaves you panting— leaving your mind blurry with need.

While he’s got his back turned, you rip off your sweats, letting them fall to the ground. Immediately after, you’re ripping off the thin tank you’re wearing, slipping your bra right off with it, fully exposing your bare chest to the coolness of the night air. A little excited shiver runs down your spine, your nipples perking up and stiffening as a result of the temperature drop.

And before you know it, you’re almost naked— wearing nothing but a soaked, think pair of panties, wanting him, needing to have him—not Johnny, but River, just River…

You catch the soft mechanical glow of his eye in the mirror on the closet door. For a brief moment, your breath catches in your throat.

The glow in the reflection dims as he stares. Your heart beats so fast you feel dizzy from the rush. You know he’s watching you just as you’re watching him. And without saying a word, you both know what you want— he finally turns around.

Fuck—you, the most dangerous mercenary in the whole fuckin’ city, is laying before this dumbass detective, wearing nothing but your panties. And oh, you’re so helplessly wet over some cop to the point where you can already feel the moisture soaking through them. You can’t control yourself, you can’t control the way your fingers keep on trailing lower, beginning to push away the dampened strip of fabric in between your legs.

A breath breaks from your mouth as you toss your panties aside. It’s sudden, a bit of a surprise even. But you’re done wasting time. The air feels cold on your exposed cunt, but fuck, you don’t care—besides, the heat he’s making you feel is enough to keep ya’ warm.

Gently, your lips tremble with each passing moment... your body is fuckin’ craving him more and more with every moment that passes with him staring directly at your messy pussy. You can’t take it. You allow yourself to be completely vulnerable, your arms trailing behind you as he draws near. Your eyes flutter as you anticipate him being near, letting him take you completely... letting him take you in.

River’s eyes are locked onto your body— he’s in shock. Fuck. Jesus Christ, every second you’re up looking at him with pathetic, needy eyes makes his cock tremble in his pants. Both of River’s eyes, amber and mechanical pierce through you, just craving you in ways he's never craved fuckin’ anyone. And oh, you love the euphoric burning feeling that rises in your tummy when you feel him stare. A little blush settles across your face, you feel some wetness slide down from your aching cunt. You arch your back a little as River approaches you.

Fuck. You can’t wait. You reach out, pulling your fingers tight around his hips as you pull him down to the bed with you. You can't wait another second to be with him and you pull him down with you on the bed. Before he can even process what’s happening, you’re beginning to lift his tanktop, and by Christ, you’re not disappointed when you finally reveal what’s underneath.

You’re not religious, but in the darkness of his bedroom, you’ve found something holy. Immediately, your eyes trail down, taking note of every little freckle and scar that litters his tan skin. Fuck— he’s perfect. You press your lips against his chest, trailing little wet kisses down his body... each kiss burning into both of you, each kiss driving you both that much closer to desperation. You’re unaware of the self-restraint he's exercising to keep himself from pushing you onto the bed and just fucking you right then and there. River’s working every ounce of self-control he has as you trail your lips down his chest, letting each kiss linger just enough to tease him.

In the dark room, you worship him with your touch, with a love that’s so undoubtedly wrong.

Your eyes drift up to his, and it’s over for you both. Gently, you slide your hands slooowly down River’s torso, making him squirm as your hand trails lower and lower, fingers beginning to move to slowly undo his pants. And fuck, It takes him every little bit of lasting resistance and strength he has to let you touch without intervening.

But shit— you aren’t gonna let River off that easy, no fucking way. You’re gonna fuckin’ savor this—every second of it all. Your lips trail down his clothed thigh with a subtle grin, wrapping your fingers around the waistband of his boxers, slowly pulling them down inch by inch. He wants you to pull them off immediately but you're going slow, savoring every little cute expression he’s pulling, savoring the way he bites into his lip, hard.

River’s getting more and more frustrated by the second but damn you're just enjoying the thrill of it all, watching your most favorite detective bend to your whims like an obedient, well-trained dog. You're teasing him and savoring each and every second of it, every little moment of him letting out pathetic heavy sighs, every moment of his cock straining against the fabric of his jeans.

But you’re growing impatient.

You begin to tug at his waistband, attempting to pull his jeans down his thighs with a not-so-secret smug-ass grin. You’ve got him wrapped around your fuckin’ finger, you feel confident—you’re gonna fuck the badge outta him— you’re gonna ride him till the goddamn sun rises.

But when his cock springs free from the confines of his pants, your ego is absolutely fucking wiped. He’s fucking huge.

Prominent veins run up the side of the thick shaft throbbing with pure anticipation. Your eyes trail up to the leaky, swollen tip where little beads of precum threaten to spill. Pure perfection. Everything about your actions up until now has been so confident and so sure, so controlled and so certain you could handle anything. But now that he's here— that he's out, free, and soooo clearly ready for you — you feel an intense wave of doubt.

You're the best, most badass fuckin’ merc in all of Night City—and yet here you are, with his dick in front of your face and you're speechless. River’s enjoying how you're staring at him, your eyes fixated on his shaft. Secretly, he loves the brief sense of control this is giving him, even with you on top. Fuck, it does good for his ego.

By Christ— he finds your reaction to his size nothing short of fucking adorable. River gives a sharp inhale through his teeth and his lips curve into a mischievous smile, his ego swelling with the realization that he's a lot more than you expected...and he loves it. He knows all the right words to say, all the right tones to take, and he knows exactly how to play with you, right down to the way you're staring at him.

Nonetheless, you set your thoughts aside as you mount the detective’s strong bronze thighs, his eyes locking onto yours.

You briefly question your safety as you tenderly wrap your fingers around the base of his thick shaft, feeling him jolt beneath you.

But it's okay. You've got this. You can do this. You take a deep breath and try to ignore the size, your hands still stroking him gently, your touch sending shivers of anticipation up and down his body…

His hand wraps around your thigh in silent reassurance, a giant grasp that feels like it was molded entirely for you to fit perfectly into it; and the other falls to your hip, slowly tracing a path across your bare skin. The little gesture sends you fucking wild. River needs you to be comfortable.

You press the tip of his cock against your dripping entrance, a little shiver runs through you when River stifles a groan underneath.

This all feels so right, this all feels so real, and River wants you to know that. He wants to take all of your fears and worries away, to show you that he's got you, and he's here for you. And when you take your first tentative slide onto him, the tip entering you, River’s jaw hangs agape, a little squeak leaving your lips as the thick head enters you.

You both recognize the need to be silent, and so for now the only sounds in the room are the soft moans and subtle whimpers coming from River's mouth as he's pressed against you...as you're pressed against him, two bodies entwined, one in the other. Nothing else exists at this very moment but this feeling... the intense, overwhelming feeling of his heavy cock throbbing inside of your tight walls. And oh, does the thought of making this dumbass detective whimper and struggle beneath you motivate you all the more.

When you finally sink down, filling yourself to the brim, a cute little gasp! is forced from your parted saliva-coated lips. River’s stretching you out so so nicely— it’s a sweet type of burn. You dig your teeth into your bottom lip hard, biting back a pathetic moan as your eyes scrunch shut.

A low growl escapes River’s lips as you suddenly take him whole in one go.

Your wet walls constrict and clench around him, your achy, needy clit pressing against his groin. Oh fuck, it’s hard for him not to start moving his hips, to just start thrusting into your pathetic mess of a pussy without mercy. But no, he’s waiting for you, waiting for you to guide the speed. This is your night, it’s River’s chance to show how much he fuckin’ adores you.

He's big— and you know you need to take it slow at first. But fuck, you’re not gonna stop, not now, not ever, not when he’s looking up at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes upon— it’s sending little waves of euphoric bliss throughout your entire body.

River watches you take another deep breath before you begin to raise your hips again, pumping yourself full despite the stretch.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. You continue this rhythm slowly, taking your own sweet time to thoroughly feel each inch of his sweet cock rubbing against your soaked walls.

In, out. In, out. You continue this rhythm.

You work through that burn— you work through the pain of the stretch. Take your own sweet time, inhaling, exhaling, breathing in between each movement, each wave of pleasure that ripples through your body with each bounce. Soon, you no longer feel the pain that comes with each slide down; you’ve melded to the shape of his cock.

Shit, he underestimated you.

River’s breathing heavily now, huffing and biting into his lip—as he takes his time, taking care of you. And the moment he finds your rhythm, he won't be letting up even for a second, he’s gonna make you suffer just the damn same.

But when you begin to speed up your pace, suddenly slamming your hips down into him, you’ve got him locked.

Then and there, River swears he’s in fucking heaven.

You’re so tight— so fucking soft… so fucking heavenly, that he can’t do anything except look up at you and purely just admire as you struggle to take him—as he himself struggles to keep up with the pace of your hips.

River’s pussywhipped already, turning his head to the side to hide the adorable little faces he’s pulling.

But fuck, you’re not gonna let that happen.

“Look at me,” you whisper into the silence of the night. You force his jaw upwards, wrapping your hands around his throat. “Only me, Riv.”

River’s caught off guard by your sudden display of dominance; but oh, how he loves it regardless. ‘Looks like his little mercenary finally gained the courage to take control,’ he thinks to himself.

You catch a little mischievous glimmer in his mechanical eye, shining into the darkness. He’s enjoying this, you can tell.

You stare into his gaze for just a brief moment; almost mesmerized, before suddenly pulling his face to yours and kissing him fiercely, your tongue slipping into his mouth.

River’s strong grip on your thigh releases as his body begins to tremble underneath you; it all just feels too fucking good. It’s all too too much, the intensity of your hips rocking back and forth, the way you’re squeezing him and bouncing on his dick like it’s nothing compared to before.

He knows you’re a merc, knows you’re a tough girl. You’re V— you don’t take shit from anyone, you take the reigns no matter what; he shoulda’ expected this from you. But oh, how he loves being bested by his lil’ merc.

River’s eyes roll back as he holds you tightly to him, his hands moving up to your lower back and supporting you, he’s lost all self-control, and can’t stop what's about to happen as his breath grows heavier, lips parting. You’re fucking wet, clenching so so tight around him—he can’t help the groan that juuusst barely escapes his lips…

But luckily for you, you cover his mouth just in time, your body still moving with such intensity. You're taking total control here, not letting him make a sound. You cover his mouth before he has the chance to protest, silencing him in an almost aggressive, dominating way, your breath hot against his lips.

At this moment, the detective is yours. Every muscle in his body belongs to you and every beat of his heart is for you. River is yours, he needs you, and when you cover his mouth, you can feel the rush going through his throat as it contracts with an effort to muffle any sound he might unintentionally let slip as your hips refuse to relent.

The feeling of control that you've been so desperately seeking is finally yours, all yours, your hands are on the wheel— and you’re the one sending this poor fucker into a tailspin of pleasure and lust. River feels so much better than you possibly could’ve imagined, and shit, you’ve finally accomplished your goal to fuck him senseless, leaving him a complete and utter mess in your control — a mess that feels so good, as you keep pumping against him, feeling him inside you.

Every movement you make is met with his equally intense counter-response, his cock beginning to throb. Fuck. He’s close.

But River’s not going to let you get ahead of him— nuh-fucking-uh. He’s had enough of your teasing; he can’t take it anymore— he’s not about to let himself cum before you, not when there’s so much fun still left to be had. He’ll drive himself to the edge— and he’ll take you with him.

Strong hands take hold of your hips, hammering his hips into your sweet, messy cunt at the pace he desires. Just like that, all the control in your hands, all that dominance, and power beforehand, is gone in an instant.

He wants to let you ride him, he really does. Wants to let you take control— but fuck, it’s not enough. He needs more, not just to ride, but to have you in his arms, and in return, you let him take control and show you exactly how he feels for you.

And so you give up your control, giving up your dominance, allowing River to manhandle you into position, guiding you to the edge of the bed. Your breath catches in your chest as River trails his lips down to your collarbone and slowly reaches down to latch onto your nipple. You dig your teeth into your lip as he suckles at it tenderly, keeping your reaction a secret as you try to keep it together. Inside of you, you feel your tummy flutter with adrenaline as your heart rate picks up.

He knows you’re enjoying this, but oh, he’s got other plans for you.

With strong yet gentle hands, he’s hoisting you up into his arms. His amber eye meets yours, and he’s gazing at you like you’re the most precious thing in the whole world. He lifts you, and you let yourself go limp in his hold— you know you’re safe, after all.

You bury your head into his neck, pressing tight against him as you cling like your life depends on it. Everything feels so good when you’re in River’s arms when he loosens his grip to trail a path of wet kisses down the center of your chest. The way he feels so warm and safe makes you feel like the whole world isn’t crumbling down on you— instead, it feels like you can finally rest.

Honestly, it’s just entirely him that makes you feel this way. He’s a stark contrast to any of your past lovers; a genuine shining light in a world so filled to the brim with darkness, a genuine positive change compared to the ways apparent in all of your exes.

Shit, you know Johnny’s gonna hate you even more for this, but you know you love this— you love River.

Before you can think about it for any longer than you already have, he’s cutting your thoughts short to pull you to your feet, pinning you against the cool glass of his bedroom window.

Fuck, you’re adorable to him. River just can’t help but slide his palms up against your soft skin, all the way up to cup at your titties, cupping them softly in each hand.

You let out a sharp gasp as he slips in, a deep inhale following quickly after— his hips pressing into your ass. You feel the heat of his breath against your neck as you cling to the cool glass of the window. You want him close, you want to feel him all against you. Your thoughts fill with nothing but him, and his cock begins to roll into you again, forcing a pathetic little squeak out of you.

But there’s a sudden thought that pops into your head— shit, what if someone sees this, sees you, pressed against the window, getting your insides rearranged like there’s no tomorrow? Fuck.

Shit, you feel more vulnerable than ever with River pressing himself into you, hands locked around your waist, his breath hot and heavy in your ear as he drives himself deeper into your sopping cunt. Him, the detective, fucking the brains outta’ a dangerous lil’ merc like you. Shit, it’s so thrilling that the thoughts in your head disappear entirely, and you're completely overcome with the sensation of his thick member moving in and out of you.

God damn. Your breath becomes shallow and your chest is rising and falling with every hard press of his hips into your ass. You're literally pressed against the glass with your face to the window, your eyes beginning to close.

Even though your brain screams for common sense, your body craves otherwise.

Oh god, you love this. Fuck your common sense. Fuck whatever Johnny has to say about it— you’ll deal with him later.

You feel like you're falling into a trance, drowning in pleasure. Every thrust fills you with more and more heat and waves of pleasure, overwhelming your body and leaving you feeling like you're drifting away into nothingness.

Your vision blurs and the sounds slowly fade into the background. River is everything, your entire world, and right now the only thing you can concentrate on is his body and how good he makes you feel— he’s stretching out your cunt fucking delightfully. It feels like you're drowning in pleasure and you love it, absolutely love this feeling of complete submission to him. Normally, you’d fucking never let somebody, anybody, do this to you.

But River Ward is the exception.

You love the feeling of his breath on your neck, the soft, warm comfort it gives you, like a blanket wrapping itself against you. Your body relaxes as he gently moves his hands along your ribs, his gentle touch sending a shiver of excitement down your body. Then you hear his voice, a whisper that makes your toes curl with the touch.

River’s attention is set on suppressing his little groans of pleasure by lowering his head to your shoulder, biting down gently. Shit, you’re almost too much to handle, he notes your breathlessness and sense of being soo overwhelmed- he can tell you’re ready for anything and everything from this moment on. Your walls constrict tightly around him, arousal fluids spilling from your hole with each mean thrust.

Your breath is heavy and unfocused. River’s touch is perfectly balanced between soft and rough, squeezing your waist as his other hand digs into your breast, hips still deliciously rolling into you, still deliciously fucking you.

You can't even remember the last time you've felt this.. good.

Despite the burn of the stretch of his cock, you steady your legs back, rocking your ass back against him to match the pace of his thrusts.

River’s eyes shoot open when he feels your tight cunt starting to move up and down his length again, this time without his influence. Both his intimidating gaze and his large hands immediately fall to the fat of your ass as a groan rips out from his throat.

He’s just enjoying the show as his pretty needy little merc attempts to get herself off. It’s cute— pathetic, the way you take him whole, the way you’re desperate for more.

You feel the cool press of his metal hand against the back of your neck, using you as leverage to pump his hot cock in and out.

Your lips curl against the force of your teeth, the heat of your breath fogging against the glass, legs beginning to violently shake under the weight of his thrusts.

Both hands move to grab your plush thighs with a tight grip, your breathless sighs and tight cunt squeezing around him let him know just how much you really need him.

You wanna moan. You wanna whine out his name, you wanna beg for more— but you can't. Not this time. So, you bite into your lip hard, your open palms set on the glass of the window briefly curling into fists. Instead of submitting to yourself, you focus on the brightness of neon lights and towering buildings right before your eyes, you focus on the way his hands dig into the soft flesh of your hips, driving deep inside.

But it’s all too much for you.

"Fuck, V, you're good…” His voice is hot as it trails down your neck and along your jawline. Gentle hands begin to trail down your thighs, fingers tracing along your skin. Oh, it’s heavenly.

River’s eyes open when he doesn’t hear you respond past weak, breathy little sighs. A teasing remark sits on his tongue, his lips curling into a smirk, but his throat goes parched the moment his eyes trail all the way down to where his large, swollen cock disappeared in and out of you, just stretching you oh-so-well.

You look utterly and completely debauched in the reflection of the glass, eyes closed, cheek pressed up against the window, your mouth slightly agape, lips reddened and bruised from rough kisses. River finds the way your chest heaves and the way you let out broken whines oh-so-adorable, as his eyes trail down to the plethora of lovebites and hickies left strewn across your chest. At this point, you’re far too fucked-out to think.

Before you can even process what’s going on, River’s slipping himself out of you, making you let out a soft, yet audible little defeated whine. “Hey, hey…” Big arms lock around your waist, pulling you gently down onto the soft mattress below. “Stay with me, V…”

His voice is hot and hoarse right now— but fuck, you’d be damned if you didn’t find him to be so fuckin’ sweet— so fuckin’ adorable in the way he talks dirty to you— so damn possessive, yet so soft and tender at the same time. The sweet burn of lust ignites deeper within your stomach as you refuse to lose sight of his gaze. You nod your head; you follow his orders obediently. The feeling of being vulnerable like this for him feels so... right, so natural.

When your glassy eyes flicker up to meet his stare, his heart flutters a little in his chest. You look so so desperate, it’s beautiful.

River swears he’s truly gone feral. It’s all too much— your cute little face, your quiet whimpers, wet pathetic pussy so in need of being fucking destroyed… god. He can’t handle it anymore.

He drops to his knees on the bed— it feels natural, it feels right. Your breath halts a little in your chest, your pulse quickening when the detective begins to lower his head in between your thighs.

The world around you spins as your cunt squeezes around nothing. His rough fingertips grace over your clit, and you can’t hold back the little moan that escapes your lips. But he’s focused on something different— his cybernetic eyes are locked onto your cunt— your folds are soaked, your arousal coating your inner thighs in little tendrils.

“Wan’it?”

You nod again. Like an obedient dog.

River grins, mechanical eye gleaming in the darkness mischievously as his metal hand helps his cock press against your entrance. Something about his gravelly words made your cunt clench around nothing, making you drip onto his sheets below. His tip brushes against your sensitive sloppy folds, before he nudges your clit with his cockhead, drawing out the cutest little gasp from your lips. River chuckles at your reaction— fuck, you’re goddamn adorable. He uses his free ganic hand to caress your cheek, looking down at you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen.

The feeling of his palm pressed against you is soothing, comforting even. You nuzzle into his touch instinctively.

It’s all a sweet, tender moment before River begins folding your legs up to your shoulders. You don’t have a second to think back on it before his thighs spread wider beneath you, the girth of his large cock sliding in deep, pressing thickly against your fluttering walls.

Fuck. You almost lose yourself, then— lips falling agape, nails biting into the curvature of his bicep as his hips press flush with your own. You want to moan. You wanna cry out— so so fucking bad.

But you know you can’t.

Shit, River swears he could bust on the spot from the way you pathetically look at him, pupils blown and watery, eyes halfway shut. “Awh,” he whispers near silently before he braces himself and pulling your hips up to his waist, leaving your back arched gorgeously. You feel completely full again.

His hips are finally still, giving you both a moment to recuperate. This time around, your cunt clenches down extra tight, your body seeming extra sensitive. He can read your reactions like a book— and he’s enjoying every little cute reaction he’s pulling out of you.

River hums to himself, before straightening back again. He pulls out all the way— till just his aching tip is left throbbing inside of you.

And all you can do is watch when he rocks back in and out again and again as if testing how deep he’s claimed his pretty little killer.

But with a muddled mind and blurry eyes, you’re more focused on how he’s moving, the way his body moves back and forth inside you, claiming you. Your instincts kick in as this strong man overpowers you and takes control of you most dangerously, but you accept it all. Just the feeling of his hands on your hips, his touch all over you as you look at him...fuck, you feel complete. You’re a dangerous merc in her prime, and yet here you are, fucked absolutely dumb by River Ward. Fuck, old man’s got some goddamn stamina, it’s impressive.

But secretly, he’s not sure if he can take it anymore— the pace of his hips falter for a second. Fuckkkkk. He grasps onto the meat of your thighs, his hips beginning to falter, slow down; his thighs beginning to tremble.

The overstimulation that comes with dragging his cock in and out of your tight pussy might just be the catalyst for him. He uses his remaining strength to hold himself deep inside of his lil’ merc, relishing the way you dig your nails into the curve of his bicep as he fucks into you steadfastly.

Now, it's you who's not sure if you can take it anymore. You can feel his hips slowing down, his grip on you faltering as he struggles to pull himself together. Your nails dig into his arms, digging deeper each time you feel that familiar feeling building up within you. Your thighs start trembling as your entire body is quaking underneath his...it's about to be all over for you.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to control yourself like he had when you were trying to lure him deeper into you, but the build-up of pressure inside of you is too much to contain...it's beginning to spill over as the tension between you two builds up even higher. Your eyes continue to flutter with each slide in, and you’re panting at the burning euphoric release beginning to bubble in your chest. It’s all too much for you— far too much.

River’s dick knocks against your plushy walls over and over again, making your breaths ragged and short, making you spew out little high-pitched hoarse sighs as he claims you as his own after waiting for sooo long.

Every thrust inside of you has you trembling, panting, trembling again—your body can't take this anymore, the build-up is beginning to turn into a burst within you. You close your eyes, squeezing them shut tightly as this burning euphoric release inside of you is simply too much....too much for you to handle. Your entire body feels like it's boiling over, the pressure inside of you reaching an all-time high.

The pressure building up in your tummy is too much to handle. You’ve resisted your orgasm, you’ve fought it, but suddenly the need for release becomes too difficult to hold back. Your body jolts up and you press your chest against him as you release, panting and whimpering as the pressure inside you is finally releasing. Finally, you cum, coating River’s cock in a ring of opaque white liquid.

The feeling of relief spreads through your entire body as you release, feeling your body tense and shudder with your inner pleasure flowing out of you as you moan out his name and you feel his grip tightening the harder that you bite into his arm, holding back from saying anymore even though you know you can’t keep it in anymore. Your lips quiver with anticipation as you feel the build-up of pleasure rise inside of you, and it’s so hard not to just explode but you hold back as he thrusts faster inside you.

His hands are shaky under the weight of your trembling thighs, underneath the weight of your explosive climax. His thrusts slow down to a halt, both his mechanical and ganic hands gripping your waist tight.

Deliberately, he slides himself all the way out, making you feel every inch of his cock down to the last vein, before slamming himself back inside one last time.

No longer can he stand the feeling of holding back— he needs to cum.

Every pump of his hips is accompanied by a short shudder and an exhale of your name as he’s losing himself to you, to the grip and clutch of your nails digging deeper into his arms. You know he’s close. And oh, is every little sign of his oncoming orgasm so so heavenly— the way his cock noticeably throbs within your constricting, gummy, tight walls— the way he’s allowing the occasional whimper to slip from his parted lips.

Your entire body’s trembling and quaking as he pulls away from you, both in the act of withdrawal and the satisfaction of fulfilling what he’s sought after for so long now. You’re breathless from his touch, quivering in your body, your eyes unable to focus on anything but the sight of him biting his lip…he's so so close to cumming— it’s all so damn delicious.

His mechanical hand presses into your thigh, the heat of his grip burning deep against your skin as he strokes his length, his breath shallow as he looks down at you, his eyes focused. River’s metal hand grips meanly into your thigh as his ganic’ one strokes his length, biting down hard into his lip to suppress himself.

Instead of gazing back into his eyes, you’re gazing down at his glistening dick as he finally cums— the liquid is thick, warm, and milky, all splattering onto your lower stomach.

The feel of his release all over you leaves you gasping as reality sets in. Once the heat disappears and the sensation finally dies down, you’re left with a whole new wave of emotions that you haven’t ever experienced before. Your body is still shaking from the release, and his breath is heavy as he looks down at you. You two are a mess.

River lays down there next to you, panting heavily as he stares over at you. His breathing is quick and heavy, and he's completely out of breath from the entire night, but he's smiling slightly, a look in his eyes that seems almost...relieved and content. You can’t help but to just admire how fuckin’ adorable he is before he reaches over to brush your hair aside, wiping the sweat from your forehead.

River’s soft with you— in your line of work, there’s no room for this much tenderness. You melt underneath his touch, a satisfied little sigh escaping you as your eyes flutter shut. You’re finally feeling comfortable enough to relax with him, to let your guard down and allow yourself to be a little soft with him. You feel at ease with him— finally at peace with not having to constantly be on high alert. You can relax.

But River’s all too aware of the mess he’s left you with. Gently, he lowers himself to you, softly murmuring in your ear.

“Just one sec, V… gotta get you cleaned up.”

As he stands, you're left helpless and vulnerable. The warmth of his touch is gone, replaced by a chill that leaves you feeling a little empty. Rivers' footsteps echo in the silent space between you as you lie there, alone in your thoughts.

The intimacy between the two of you may have faded, but the lingering after-effects remain. Your body is still trembling from the release, and your mind is clouded with the remnants of ecstasy. You’re left feeling vulnerable and exposed. A mess.

As River's footsteps echo through the room, you feel helpless and weak. Your body has been taken by him, and you’re left behind. To be cleaned up. You're his.

When he returns, he has a soft, warm towel in one hand, and one of his tanktops in the other. He places the tank top down on the bed right next to you. River's hand reaches out and starts to gently wipe down your body with the cloth, working to clean up the mess left behind. His touch is gentle, tender, and caring. You appreciate his efforts to clean up the mess he's left you with.

You feel like a mess, his mess. His hands are gentle and meticulous as he cleans you up, his touch different from the rough grip you felt during the night. His soft touch is comforting, reassuring, and so at odds with the intensity of the night. Yet, at the same time, it shows the other side of the intense man you know so well. The delicate one, hidden from the world.

He’s not squeezing or gripping tightly— just gently wiping you down, making sure not to squeeze too hard as he does his best to get you clean. His touch is tender he begins wiping you down, making sure to avoid the more sensitive areas like your inner thighs, and before making his way up with the soft cloth.

You feel yourself close to slipping away into a deep sleep, only for his warm voice to pull you back into the present.

“Hey…V,” River murmurs softly. “Got a shirt for you…” He’s grinning as he holds up a crumpled-up tank top he had set aside earlier— a small grin forming around your lips as you see the words “FUCK THE POLICE” printed across the front.

”Figured you’d like it…” he chuckles faintly, holding it up for you to take.

Despite your exhaustion, a little giggle leaves your lips at the sight of the printing on the front. Fuck, he’s adorable. River’s smile is contagious, filling you with a type of fondness you haven’t experienced in a long goddamn time. You graciously accept the shirt, sliding it over your head, a soft sigh escaping you as it settles over your frame. The fabric is soft, and it keeps you covered from the coolness of the night air. It’s a little big on you, but you like it that way— it’s comfy, and you’re beyond grateful for the little gesture.

River slides into bed next to you, remaining silent as he watches settle. His eyes wander up and down your body, appreciating the way the fabric of his shirt hangs loosely around your frame. He likes the look, and it’s cute. It’s not something he’s used to, but the sight of you like this— it’s endearing to him.

You can feel the exhaustion creeping in, settling into your bones after the long day's events. As he watches you settle in, you can sense his silent appreciation and affection, his gaze tracing the lines of your body with a softness you haven't often encountered.

"Thanks for tonight," River murmurs, his voice filled with gratitude and a hint of weariness as a yawn interrupts his words. He briefly presses a little kiss to your forehead, before rolling over. "Goodnight, V."

His words linger in the air, carrying a sense of appreciation and tenderness that touches your heart. With a soft smile, you reply, "Goodnight, River…" before snuggling closer to him, seeking his warmth as the chill of the night settles in around you.

The two of you lay there, entangled in the silence of your first night together. All you can hear is the sound of his breath against your throat, the silent rustle of his sheets, and the faint thrum of his heart. You feel so safe, so warm, so loved in his arms. River radiates a sense of peace within you, one that you hadn't felt on your own. And with him comes a feeling of protection, a feeling of belonging.

#joce writes #river ward #river ward x reader #river ward x v #cyberpunk 2077 #fem v #cyberpunk smut #cyberpunk2077 #river ward romance #river ward x fem v #cyberpunk2077 fanfic #cyberpunk2077 writing

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meabh-mcinness · 4 months ago

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Nesting (Balam Shichirou x femhuman!reader)

Main Masterlist

Summary: When your demon lover, Shichirou, begins acting oddly—more protective, more possessive, and increasingly distant—you are left bewildered and heartbroken. Once inseparable, his constant rejection of your affection stings deeply, leading to emotional confrontations and a growing sense of insecurity.

As tensions rise, a startling revelation changes everything.

You blinked in surprise at the demon before you, confusion written obviously on your face from your scrunched together eyebrows and slightly opened mouth.

It was true that Shichirou had been acting odd lately, but this wasn’t why you had thought so. He was far more touchy than usual, which you hadn’t thought possible and were now being proven wrong. A hand almost always laid upon your shoulder or held around your waist — clawed fingers curled around your stomach — no matter that he had to practically bend in half to be able to do it. His body was guaranteed to be wrapped around you during down times and almost certainly snuggled around you when you went to bed. Large, feathered wings carefully covering your body and hiding you away from the world as you lay wrapped securely in his arms.

Your normally sweet teddy bear of a lover had also gained an attitude lately towards other demons lately. While he was still kind and touchy feely with the students and younger family members that occasionally visited their siblings, he had gotten territorial in regards to your co-workers and even downright hostile to other unknown demons that crossed your path when you went out shopping together with Iruma or to just explore other places in the Netherworld. Exploring that he recently has been denying you, stating that it was too dangerous which had culminated in a fair few fights at this point. You hadn’t appreciated being treated like a wayward child who couldn’t protect themselves and his sudden aggression and overprotection was getting on your nerves.

After an almost two full months of this treatment—you seriously praised your patience with him that was a testament to how much you loved the white gargoyle despite his current attitude. When the latest fight correlated to the words — “I can’t help how my biology reacts, I don’t understand how you can be so blasé about this!” — your brain suddenly caught on to what, it thought, was happening, and it left you feeling horrible.

The attitude, the territorial-ness, and overprotection combined with his increased skinship were all startingly similar to how he had been acting in his pre-rut a few months ago. A wince hit your face as you berated yourself, after all how could you have forgotten so soon? While you were certain that the book you had read said gargoyle demons hit their ruts once every few years, it made a certain amount of sense that a newly mated one would perhaps have it more often, in an attempt to get their new mate pregnant and carry on their lineage sooner.

You softened suddenly in front of him, all fight leaving you as you grabbed one of his large hands with your smaller ones and lifted it so that it would cradle the side of your face. Nuzzling into the scaled flesh you apologized for not understanding sooner. After all being a slave to one’s biology was nothing new to you, no matter how often humans often tried to fight it, and you could only imagine how much it would distress you if humans still had heats and ruts like their ancestors did. Briefly your minded drifted to the omegaverse that had been such a popular trope in the fanfics you had liked to read. The absolute chaos of it that usually happened in those stories would probably have driven you insane.

You couldn’t imagine how it must be to actually experience it rather than have it regulated to fictional characters that didn’t exist. It must have been awful dealing with all of those rampaging hormones and to lose control of your own body like that. With this thought in mind, you made a decision. If he wouldn’t initiate this rut for fear of hurting you, then you would.

The day after this decision you woke bright and early, a happy thrumming going through your veins and a shiver down your spine at what you imagined the next few days were going to bring you.

You bit your lip as the thoughts started to overwhelm you before shaking your head it clear it. You had a job to do and only the day to do it. You quickly wrote out a very long grocery list, including lots of fruits and high protein jerkies that could be eaten quickly in the low periods so that energies could be kept high. You thought about it for a minute before throwing a couple of different candies on the list that left you salivating, before giving it to Shichirou with a smile and a kiss before shooing him off. Your efforts received a raised eyebrow in response, but you simply claimed a craving before wandering away again.

Now came the hardest part of your plan.

You stood just inside the door of your shared bedroom, surveying where everything stood with a critical eye. Tilting you eye this way and that you vaguely tried to remember the way Shichirou had set it up. You wanted something similar since it had been so secured and comfortable, but you weren’t certain how to achieve it.

Shichirou’s normally made nest was an amalgamation of twigs, vines, branches, and even strands of both your hair woven into a giant circle, much like a bird’s nest would be. When you started sleeping over in your courtship phase, he added a custom-made circular mattress to fit inside along with several blankets, quilts, pillows – anything soft and comfortable that he thought could add to your pleasure.

When he was in a pre-rut, he truly decked it out with the softest furs, silk, and anything he could find that suggested both wealth and comfort to try and impress you. Since the end of the rut though you had insisted, they go in a closet, to preserve them for a later use, that had apparently come sooner than you thought it would.

With a reaffirming nod you stalked into the room and started pulling the nest apart. The structure itself was fine, but the placement of everything inside of it rankled you for some odd reason and you were determined to make it right. Once the mattress had been striped of every blanket and pillow on it, divided into piles of each type of item, you proceeded to take out the items that were truly luxurious and oh so perfect in your mind, before also separating them into the already made piles. You were determined to somehow incorporate every single piece, to make the perfect nest for you two to use later on that night.

Even without an image in mind you started you reconstruction carefully, laying each piece just so, moving them repeatedly until you found their perfect place. When Shichirou later returned, groceries bought and put away, it was to the sight of you muttering to yourself about why the nest didn’t feel perfect yet. You couldn’t figure out what was missing and by this point it was like you possessed by the need of a perfect nest.

When he entered the room further, initially intending to help you, he hadn’t made it one step before a low guttural growl left your throat unconsciously, followed by your head turning and jaws snapping at his presence neared your unfinished product. His eyes widened at the territorial display you were posing, taking a slight step back before kneeling before you. Instinct causing his back to bow and wings spread wide before you to show he wasn’t a threat.

Tilting your head as you observed the display, your eyes immediately caught the glinting of the light off the feathers running across his beautiful black wings in contrast to pale skin and the stark whiteness of his hair. Entranced you walked forward, hand lightly brushing through the feathers, feeling the softness before your eyes dropped to the boa wrapped around the collar of his neck.

This. This is what you had been missing from the nest. Pieces of him. A constant reminder of him surrounding you from both above and below. You kneeled before him, the back of your hands brushing against his cheek before going further back to seemingly wrap around his neck as you kissed his mask. The metal stark cold against your warm lips as your fingers worked a bit to unclip the fur before lifting above his head. With a giggle at the confusion on his face, you quickly stole the fur from around his hips as well before telling him to stay there, running the fur pieces back to the nest, laying and stretching them out on the side that you typically slept on before rushing back breathlessly and making your big ask.

He stared down into your eyes with knowing amusement at your actions, seeming to understand what exactly was happening without being told. In a rush of words, you requested some of his feathers, specifically the soft downy ones that grew closer to his back and lacked any rachis or barbules that made up the stiffer ones that covered the majority of his wings.

He didn’t even hesitate to move his wings to the ground before the vines growing up the wall shot out and wrapped around the base of the feathers. Your senses and mind came back to you at the sight, “Wait, what are you—”

You never got finish your sentence as a majority of the down feathers were ripped out without even a flinch, despite the beads of blood that were starting to well up in their place. Your hand flew to your mouth at the sight, tears welling up as the vines carefully deposited the feathers into his hands so that he could offer them up to you. You ignored them however as you quickly whipped off your top and moved to lean over him to put pressure on the spot.

“I meant the loose ones, not to mutilate yourself,” you hissed at him. He shoulders moved slightly at your words, accompanied by another hiss from you, “Do not shrug at me about this! You could have done serious damage to yourself, Balam Shichirou!”

“How could I not give to my beloved mate one of the few things she desires? A few feathers that grow back quickly are an easier sacrifice to make you happy than you think.” His voice rumbled out, not the least bit apologetic about his actions as he gently pushed you away while standing up, slowly directing you back to the nest. “Now,” he said as he once more offered up the soft feathers, “where do you want these?”

The notion would have been sweet if you weren’t going to strangle him with his own vines.

The urge to strangle him rose higher later that night.

After dinner you had grabbed some of the jerky and fruits ranging from bloodberries — aptly named strawberry looking fruit that were as red as fresh blood — to a bowl of what looked like a deep truly purple version of grapes. Grabbing a bag of what looked like skittles but tasted more like chocolate truffles on your way back out, arranging them nicely along the edges of the frame of the nest.

When Shichirou joined you after a few moments, you proudly displayed your finished nest before him, even managing to lure him in for a snuggle that slowly developed into kisses and light touches before he drew away as your hand brushed along his hardening crotch, citing that he didn’t want to go further tonight. You pouted but eased up, if he wasn’t ready to start his rut then he wasn’t ready, and you could respect that.

Your irritation and turmoil however had soon reached its peak. Every attempt at discussing Shichirou's behaviour or attempting to lure him into bed to relieve him sexually seemed to end in frustration and more confusion on your end. The nights he consistently rejected your advances, he still held you close, his breath hot against your neck, you felt his tension in every muscle he had. His body, once a source of warmth and comfort with his arms and wings wrapped securely around you, was now constricting and suffocating.

You had never felt the urge to cry so much in his presence before.

One evening, after another round of Shichirou’s insistence that he couldn’t dare lay with you in such a way now due to his fear of hurting you, you finally decided you had enough. You moved from your nest and planted yourself firmly in front of him, hands on your hips, refusing to budge until you had answers. "Shichirou," you began, voice steady despite the chaos of emotions and thoughts whirling inside you, "we really need to talk."

His eyes, a mesmerizing mix of greys and whites that surrounded a pitch-black pupil, that once had enchanted you, met yours with a look of apprehension, body curling in on itself as if to make him smaller. Lately those words were often followed by a fight, something you both tried to avoid by nature and yet seemed unable to in these past weeks. "What is it?" he asked, his voice a low rumble, anxiety making itself known, mentally preparing himself for another verbal sparring match.

"What's going on with you? You've been acting so strange, and it's driving me crazy," you said, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I thought that you were entering another rut, but this is the fifth time you rejected me when usually you can’t wait to get your hands on me since the first one. I can't keep living like this! I feel like I’m walking on eggshells, not knowing what's happening." You took a shuttering breath, tears gathering in your eyes that you violently wiped away, Shichirou’s chirps of alarm as your displeasure made itself known in the form of angry crying. “Am I not good enough for you now? Do you know how terrible it makes me feel every time you deny the touch of my body where before you couldn’t seem to get enough? Do...do you not want me anymore?”

Speaking those words seemed to break the dam as you fell to your knees and broke into guttural sobs of at the thought, that despite his seemingly over-territorial actions he had made every day, there was every possibility that he was starting to no longer have a romantic interest in you. Where there once was a loving relationship may have turned into him simply protecting one of the few humans in the Netherworld, a source of one of his obsessions that he couldn’t give up even if he was no longer truly interested in you personally.

A startled squawk left him, and you felt him kneel before you, thighs hitting the ground with a heavy thunk. Could feel the air move as his hands reached around you, wrapping around your back and pulling you into his lap. One hand gently wrapped itself in your hair, sharp claws being careful not to cut any strands as they forced your head onto his chest, the other one rubbed and down your back.

With your ear resting perfectly above his heart, a vibration started rumbling out of his chest that you could barely hear over your crying but could feel, as your whole body started to move in tune with it. His arms lifted you slightly as he readjusted himself so that he was sitting with criss-crossed legs before letting you down into his lap. A sudden whoosh sound was accompanied by a lack of light vaguely entered your senses, his wings had come out and encircled the both of you, hiding the view of your shuttering body from the rest of the world.

A clanking of metal hitting the ground was heard before his head lowered to bury his face in the hair on top of your head, a purring sound now accompanying the vibrations that came from his chest over the sounds of your sobbing.

Slowly, your crying stifled to sniffles and your breathing started to come under control to match his more relaxed one. As his nose continued nuzzling into your hair and large clawed hands went on with the calming ministrations, your hands came up to wipe the last of your tears away as your harsh breathing finally evened out again.

You felt exhausted with a headache forming and small shivers wracking your body on occasion as a result on your sob fest. It embarrassed you had lost your cool like that, but you were just so tired while at the same time being consumed by so many emotions that it only exhausted you further. It had only been a matter of time before you broke.

With a soft sigh you asked the last dreaded question you had, “At this point it feels like you don’t even want me, don’t love me, anymore. Like you just see me as some human to protect from the Netherworld rather than your lover. Did I do something wrong?”

His eyes widened, jaw slacking at your words before quickly scrambling to reassure you. "No, it's not that, it won’t ever be that. I could never not want you," he admitted, his voice insistent yet softer now, “You’re my mate. My heart and soul, the better half as you humans say. I love you with every fibre of my being and would gladly die before ever having to live in a world without you in it.” His head shook, silver hair flashing about with the movement, his body shivering at the very thought of it. "No, it wasn’t because of anything even close you doing something wrong. If anything, it's because I love you so much with the gifts you have given me. Most recently especially, as you're carrying my youngling."

Your eyebrows narrowed in confusion, as your brain tried to process the information he was passing on. You knew that younglings were, as implied, young demons, the oldest of which were in what was the Netherworld’s version of their first couple years of elementary school. The youngest of that group were infants and…embryos. The world seemed to tilt on its axis as his words sunk in. Pregnant? You?

The pieces of the puzzle fell into place—his protective behaviour, his constant need to touch you, his refusal to let you out of his sight. It all made sense now. "How... how do you know?" you asked, your hand unconsciously moving to your stomach, finally noticing the small bump protruding from it.

You hadn’t even truly noticed the swelling of your stomach, chalking up your pants slowly not fitting due to the almost sedentary lifestyle Shichirou had forced you into over the course of the past few months. You had never even noticed the swelling of your breasts accompanying it, or how you hadn’t experienced your monthly. Far too focused on Shichirou’s newly found actions.

"Your pheromones," he replied with a small chuckle, pulling you even closer to him. "I can smell the change in your scent. What is normally a woodsy musk became sweetened like milk and pastries a couple of weeks after the rut. I didn’t realize what it meant until I met with a student’s mother who was carrying their own youngling, though much further along, that had the same cloying scent stuck to them. I didn’t tell you because I assumed you knew. Demonesses and their partners can often tell a few weeks in – by the end of the first month at the latest. I’ve known for a while now and it never occurred to me that humans might not have the same skill."

Tears welled up in your eyes again as you processed the revelation. Shichirou pulled you further into his arms, holding you tightly. "I'm sorry for making you worry," he murmured against your hair. "I just wanted to protect you and our youngling."

You hugged him back, feeling a mix of relief and excitement wash over you, a disbelieving laugh that bordered hysterical left you. "I wish you had told me sooner," you said, your voice muffled against his chest. "But I understand your actions now, and I’m sorry I wasn’t more understanding earlier."

He shook his again, musing up your hair in the process, “No, I should have thought of the fact that humans faced gestation periods differently than demon-kind and approached you about it. You act so much like a demon sometimes that it’s easy to forget you weren’t born one of us.”

“Let’s just agree we were both wrong and move on,” you mumbled.

You settled back in against his chest, snuggling against the warm flesh under his shirt and enjoying the feeling of his arms circled around you before a sudden thought crossed your brain.

“Oh, by the way,” you called to him as you booped the tip of his nose for attention. A light hum and wrinkling of the appendage was your answer. “While I understand your fears, you’re going to have to get over it. Preferably soon.”

He blinked, eyebrows narrowing in confusion at your words before widening again, “I understand. I was a little zealous in protecting you and I’ll try to do better in letting you do your own thing. Though I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to ignore all of my instincts especially with how dangerous—”

“While I appreciate that,” you interrupted him, already knowing he was going to go on a long spiel about the dangers of the Netherworld again, which at this point you could mouth along to word for word. “I actually wasn’t referring to it.” His head tilted like a bird, eyebrows stitching together once more as he tried to think of what you had actually meant.

“Sex, darling.” You declared casually as could be while he visibly startled at your words, a fierce flush spreading across his cheeks to the tip of his ears. “It is a well-known fact among my kind that human females often get extremely horny throughout and especially towards the beginning of their pregnancy.” You shifted in his lap so that you were kneeling in-between his legs, arms looping around his neck to bring his blushing face closer to your own.

“And I propose that we start right now. After all you have a lot of making up to do on that front.” With the plush of his lips pressing against your own, you couldn’t help but sigh up into his mouth at the familiar feeling of his hands lightly gripping your hips, before digging in slightly as you nipped what remained of his bottom lip.

Yes, there was a lot of making up to do indeed. And you were going to enjoy every minute of it.

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vanteguccir · 7 months ago

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Hey guys! I actually spent long minutes staring at these reblogs and debating whether it was worth responding and talking about or not. But as I'm not the type to take hate and keep quiet, I decided to talk about it.

First of all, Reia, you really seem like a person who doesn't read many fanfics for the way you put it in your text, so I'll explain the meaning of the word. Fanfic, short for "fan fiction", is a story written by a fan based on characters, universes, or real people (like the triplets). Fans create their own narratives, expanding or reimagining everything, creating their own version, which in real life does not exist OR, as writers, we often draw inspiration from real-life events too.

And yes, you and Evangeline are trying to be "fanfic police" and even "sturniolo police", if you scroll through the thousands of Sturniolo Triplets fanfics, you will come across A LOT where Matt, Nick or Chris go through situations of anxiety attack, panic attack, OR where the "reader" herself goes through this, sometimes even involving situations way worse than that. Furthermore, there's thousands of fanfics describing explicit sex scenes with them, the famous smuts, does that bother you too? Because in the world of someone who writes a FANFIC in here, it doesn't.

And yes, I was indeed writing about the meet and greet situation, and this was nothing new to ANYONE in the fandom WHO READS THE FANFICS HERE. I even made a post the day before ASKING who would like to read the idea, and you want to know the news? All 200 people who voted wanted it.

I understand that you feel this story is disrespectful FOR YOU, especially because it touches on a real-life situation that may be sensitive or painful for some people. I want to assure you that it was never my intention to cause harm or disrespect anyone involved in that situation.

I myself am diagnosed with chronic anxiety, and even so, I didn't feel affected by the way I wrote. In fact, I described how I feel during MY anxiety attacks.

In no way did I make fun of the situation Matt went through, in fact, my intention in writing this story was to explore Matt's complexity and show how he deals with real problems, such as anxiety. It was a way to give more depth to his situation during the tour and highlight the importance of the emotional support he receives from "Y/N". It was not my intention to mock him, but rather to explore his humanity and the challenges he faced, and I know with all the certainty in the world that I did not mock him, much less affect the people who read the story.

Please, I ask you to reevaluate the need to throw hate at a person who has nothing to do with your outside the box opinions of what WRITERS ON THE STURNIOLO'S TUMBLR should or shouldn't write about.

There are thousands of posts on Instagram and TikTok from "fans" really mocking Matt and throwing hate at him about "their bad experiences" during one of the shows, these are the people you should be giving a piece of your mind to, not me. 🩷

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #vante thoughts

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hispg · 1 year ago

Text

Fantasize

Pairings: R2! Leon x Fem! Reader

Summary: Your new neighbor Leon knows that you're married, but he can't help it but fantasize about you.

Wc: 3.9k

Warnings: smut,unprotected sex,p in v, fingering, dirty thoughts, cheating ( don't be like them), soft dom! Leon, pet names.

An:Sorry for the delay in posting, university has been taking up all my time and I'm also having some personal problems. Anyway, thanks for the 200 followers! And for all the messages I've been receiving, sorry for not answering them all. But please know that I read each one and smile like a fool, thank you for your love <3. I'm preparing a fanfic with Fuckboy! Leon, maybe it'll take a while, but I promise it'll be worth it!

Leon knew you were a married woman, he always knew, ever since he saw the shiny ring on your ring finger. A more than clear sign of your marriage.

Not that it bothered him at first, after all, he had just moved into the same condominium as you. He thought he'd just be another neighbor, but then he was wrong.

But then he started to get close to you, doing simple things like helping you carry the groceries you bought. Even holding the elevator open so you could get in.

Small talk here and there, nothing too personal or anything. Just two people getting to know each other. And by some chance of fate, he ended up finding you an interesting person, the more he talked to you, the more mesmerized he became.

Was it wrong? Of course it was, but he couldn't help fantasizing about you, it was stronger than him.

And frankly nothing improved when he found out that your husband didn't spend much time at home, if you saw him more than twice a month it was pure luck.

You were such a sweet and gentle person, he couldn't understand how your husband didn't mind spending so much time at home. You were alone most of the time, and that legitimately bothered him.

At some point he asked for your number, so he could talk to you often. And indeed he did, he spoke to you almost every day, even if it was just a simple message, but he was interested to know how you were doing.

After a while he found himself thinking about you more than he should, whether at work or when he was alone at home. He didn't know why, but you gradually occupied all his thoughts. Seven days a week, all the time he imagined you, with him.

He knew it was morally wrong, since you were a married woman. Besides, he was only a cop, what could he offer you? Your husband could certainly give you anything you asked for. Just about everything.

Maybe one thing less.

The walls were thin, you could easily hear what was going on from the other side. The adjoining walls of his bedroom gave him the opportunity to hear what was going on on the other side. Which was exactly your bedroom.

It was impossible not to notice the little noises you made, the low squeaks and moans that you swore no one else could hear.

But Leon heard perfectly.

He had keen instincts, perhaps because he was a police officer and needed things to be like that. However, he didn't understand what caused these noises, the moans, the heavy breathing, the gasps that he heard so clearly.

Until one day he realized, it was you touching yourself.

Letting out soft cries, playing with your needy pussy. He could already imagine you arching your body on the bed, clutching the sheets and moaning with every touch.

Incredibly exciting, he thought. Yet he couldn't help imagining the fact that you had no one to do it for you. No one to fill your cunt, to not let you do this job on your own.

And then he realized, your husband could give you everything except one thing. Pleasure.

And that Leon could give you, without a shadow of a doubt.

Every time he heard you doing these things, his mind went wild. Fuck, he could feel his cock getting hard just from that, thinking it could be him.

Imagining you arching and bending your body towards him, while he was buried between your legs. Or rather, how well you could fit him, the gigantic desire he had to fuck you dumb, make you addicted to his cock.

He often tried not to think about it, it was morally wrong, of course. He tried to maintain good behavior, composure, but it was impossible to do that when you were so close to him.

It was even worse when you called him to your house, just to chat and eat the delicious cookies you baked. He didn't know if it was on purpose, but you always wore short clothes to these small gatherings, shorts so short and tight that he could clearly see the curve of your ass. Plus the graceful fact that you didn't wear a bra when you were at home, giving him the opportunity to see your breasts swaying slightly as you walked.

Maybe that's why he would ask for more coffee or cookies, just to see your figure walking around the kitchen, providing the perfect image for his unbridled imagination.

In his mind, his life would only be perfect if he had you by his side, in a routine where he could fuck you every day of the week. Every single day.

At this point, he's lost count of how many times he's jerked off to you, how many times he's dreamt that it was your hand doing the work, not his.

From time to time he even thought about how wrong it was, but by then it was too late, his cum was oozing out all over him, making him let out a slight grunt of pleasure. Spilling it all over his sheets, making a mess.

The next day he would greet you as if nothing had happened, with the biggest innocent smile on his face.

But all his self-control went down the drain once he saw you wearing a tight red nightgown, it was made of silk and fitted your body perfectly.

He couldn't stop staring for a second, and he could already feel something hardening in his body.

"Thank you, sweetheart." You say with a soft smile, looking at him.

The reason he was at your house right now was that he was helping you put a heavy package inside, and maybe he was going to put more than the package inside.

"Nothing at all. Want some help unpacking?" He replied, wiping his uniform a little.

And you didn't know why, but something sparked in you every time you saw him in his uniform. He looked so handsome like that.

"Yes, please." You nod. It was obvious that you didn't need his help for such a simple thing, but if it meant he'd stay longer, then you'd let it be.

All you got from him was a smile, and he started looking in the box for a place to open it, and you went to find a pair of scissors.

Once you returned he was kneeling on the floor, slowly opening the box with his hands. As soon as he looked up, he saw too much, his gaze went straight to your thighs, exactly to the middle of your legs.

At the same moment he blushed, trying to look away. But before either of you could say a word, the lights flickered and went out for good. A sudden blackout.

Leon was the first to react, he stood up abruptly and bumped into you, holding you by the waist to prevent you from falling.

On impulse, you grabbed his shoulders, just to keep your balance. It was only at that moment that you realized how close your face was to his, the way his eyes stared at you intensely, as if for the last time.

Not only that, but you felt a certain bulge in your stomach, and it didn't take more than two seconds for you to understand what it was all about.

Just a brief glimpse of your thighs was enough for him to get hard, and even more so holding you so close.

"I'm sorry..." He whispers awkwardly, still holding you in his arms.

You don't know if it was your instinct, or if it was your body aching for any kind of touch, but before you could imagine it you pushed your lips to his, kissing him with a force you didn't even know you had.

He obviously hesitated, the weight of the act bearing down on his back in an abrupt way. It was so wrong, a part of him just wanted to push you away and say no, but by then he wasn't thinking straight, his body went into overdrive.

It wasn't long before he was moving his lips against yours in pure synchronicity, his fingers curving around your waist, effectively sticking the two of you together. At that moment it was as if nothing else mattered, perhaps it was the lust affecting your thoughts, the bottled-up desire to touch each other.

Too much to describe, and it could only be demonstrated through this physical contact, the way his tongue slid into your mouth, exploring every inch. Taking the time to savor the moment, because he genuinely didn't know if this would be the first and last time.

His hands reached down to lift your nightgown, cupping your ass and pushing you against him even more. His thoughts were racing, but he couldn't stop. Just feeling sorry for your poor husband. Not that would stop him from doing anything.

You were almost in the same situation, except that your mind was foggy, you were already feeling hot and bothered by a simple kiss. A kiss like the one your husband had never been able to give you, and perhaps could never make you feel so aroused by a simple act.

God, if it was so wrong, why did it have to be so good?

Even though you tried to open your mouth to speak at some point, Leon wouldn't let you, he always pressed his lips against yours harder, forcing you to keep quiet. And before he did anything else, he lifted you up by your ass, carrying you across the couch. He was only guided by his senses, since he was more than used to being in your house.

"Shit, we shouldn't have-" you protest, and he shuts you up with another kiss, laying you down on the couch and getting on top of you, holding your wrists above your head, preventing you from moving or anything.

Soon you felt his full weight on top of you, as his warm breath hit your cheek, while he nibbled lightly, "It's too late to say no."

Yes, he was right.

Now was not the time for remorse or saying no, because let's face it, it's not like you were going to say no.

And hell, you knew so well that you should say no, but he wasn't helping either. Whispering sweet nothings in your ear, kissing and nibbling your neck, making you gasp and squirm under him.

You nestled your hands in his hair, pulling him in for another thirsty kiss. You simply acted like someone who hadn't been touched in months, every little brush against you was enough to send a shiver down your spine.

His hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch, remembering what it felt like to have your skin against his, a sensation he wouldn't forget even if he wanted to. All Leon could feel now was pity, pity for your poor husband.

Why was that? Because Leon was sure that he would make you feel like never before, a sensation that your husband could not possibly give you.

"You've been waiting for this, haven't you?" he whispers, looking at you with a little smile.

All you did was nod, your flushed and embarrassed face already saying a lot. At the same time as you felt a lust burning throughout your body, there was a guilt that consumed you in an overwhelming way.

If it was so wrong, why did this shit have to be so good?

Your mind was blurred and confused, as if all you could focus on were his touches, the way he was playing with the waistband of your panties, threatening to pull them down at any moment. The way his blue eyes penetrated you, as if he wanted to memorize every detail.

As soon as his lips touched your neck, you felt your body twitch, and a small moan escaped your lips. Each act made your body burn, it had been so long since you'd been touched like this, something about him excited you too much. More than it should.

He took his time, leaving a trail of wet kisses on your neck, shoulders, down to your breasts. Where he made a point of slowly taking off your nightgown, revealing what he wanted, you didn't wear a bra at home, so this was just another advantage for him. As soon as he flicked his tongue out to make contact with your skin, he stopped. Something was bothering him.

His gaze was on your hands, specifically on your ring finger, looking at your wedding ring. Then he took your hand, slowly removing the ring.

"Today you'll be mine, you don't have to wear this." His voice was low and husky, and he didn't care about your ring at all, he just took it off and threw it somewhere in the room.

It would take you some time to find it again.

"Leon I-" He shushed you, pressing two fingers to your lips, forcing you to open wide. Soon you had two fingers in your mouth, and he moved them back and forth, making sure you sucked it all in.

"No talking for today, baby." The velvety voice once again drew a sly whimper from you, making you hold him tight.

His deft fingers moved down to your wet slit, rubbing your entrance in circles, his fingertips doing a marvelous job on you.

"You're touch depraved, aren't you?" Leon asks, a mischievous smile appearing on his lips.

You were so wet, just from simple touches, it wasn't hard to guess that you were the type to get turned on by silly things.

Another whimper escapes your lips, your nails digging into his forearm, and from the smile he gave you, he was certainly enjoying the situation.

The way he knew exactly where to touch, how to touch. It was simply enough to drive you insane. You didn't even know how he did it, but he did.

His fingers found your clit, and as soon as they did, he started stroking it with his thumb, lightly, just to see every reaction you gave.

He would keep each one in his memory, it would be the most vivid memories he'd had in a while.

"So wet, just for me, isn't it?" A pure tease, just to drive you even crazier.

You nodded dumbly, he was all you needed at that moment. You'd never felt this way before, and you wondered how he could do it.

Without warning he slipped a finger into you, stretching your tight walls gently, curling his fingers and searching for your sensitive spots, and he wouldn't stop until he found them.

"You're so beautiful." He whispered huskily, removing his fingers from your mouth so that you could moan for him.

You couldn't do anything more than moan or mumble things here or there, so when he increased the speed and added another finger it was enough to make you see stars.

"There, there, it feels good when you touch there." In a whimper you say, as soon as you feel his fingers curving around your sweet spots.

All he did was bite his lip, seeing how pleased you were with him. He couldn't wait to fuck you, his mind was stuck on the idea.

He would be the man for you, and you would be his woman. He could easily fulfill the role your husband should be playing.

"Is that good?" He purrs in your ear, licking your earlobe.

You bite your lip and nod, another dirty moan coming from your lips. You could feel your orgasm approaching, the way he stroked your clit as he fucked you with his fingers was enough to make you go wild with him.

"Come for me." He purrs at you, and in one swift movement he finds your breast, wrapping his tongue around your sensitive nipple.

He sucked like crazy, making a point of doing so until he felt your nipple harden in his wet muscle.

Before you knew it, your hips were moving in sync with his movements, in perfect harmony.

God knows how he knew every sensitive spot of yours so well, maybe he'd been waiting for this more than you realized.

"Leon! Fuck-," you moan loudly, rolling your eyes and arching your body, feeling your orgasm wash over you intensely. In a way that has never happened before.

He gave you a lopsided grin and a contented murmur, extremely proud and smug at having made you cum like that.

"What a beautiful princess, you're perfect when you come." He whispered sensuously in your ear, kissing all over your face straight after.

You were speechless, your breathing heavy and fast, your mind even messier than before. At this point you didn't want to think about right or wrong, your mind was in a whirlwind of pleasure.

As soon as he saw you calm down from your high, he lifted you into his arms, carrying you like a princess. He couldn't stand it any longer, his cock hard and throbbing in his pants, he had to take you.

And of course he would do it in your bed, you would be his in your bed. As if you were husband and wife. He already knew the way to your bedroom, and gently laid you down on the bed, letting you sink into the soft mattress.

"My beautiful wife, you're going to welcome me like the perfect wife you are, aren't you?" A low purr in your ear, his fingers reaching down to undo his belt.

You nod, sitting down on the bed and helping him out of his uniform. As he took off his pants, you unbuttoned his shirt, kissing and licking all over his chest.

Low moans and gasps came from his lips, he reached for your hair and began to stroke you, encouraging you to continue. You were so perfect in his eyes, you needed to be his, if only for one night.

In the excitement of the moment, he pulled down his pants along with his boxers, letting his cock pop out, a mischievous smile on his lips, you would be his.

As he had so long hoped.

He holds you by the shoulders and pushes you onto the bed once more, letting you snuggle into the sheets.

As he watched you spread your legs, he mounted you, giving the perfect view of his shapely body. Every muscle twitching as he gripped the back of your thighs, spreading you even wider. He had the perfect view, you there all vulnerable for him, slit wet and clamoring for him.

And so he did, he pumped his cock and brushed your entrance, teasing you.

You whimpered, pushing your hips against the head of his cock, wanting him to do what he had to do right away.

A chuckle escapes his lips, and he pushes his cock all the way into you at once, making a quiet slapping sound.

"Fucking tight." He grunts in your ear, starting with calm, slow thrusts, giving you a slow, romantic kiss.

Savoring your taste as he passionately fucked you. Even if it wasn't true, for tonight you would be his woman. His alone, made for him, all his.

"Such a beautiful wife." He murmurs during the kiss, increasing the intensity of his thrusts, his skin colliding against yours.

"My beautiful husband." You say in a whimper, the words sliding out of your mouth as if it were the purest truth.

Perhaps you only spoke in the heat of the moment, or perhaps deep down you wanted it to be true.

He bites his lip, pushing your thighs further into the mattress, moving his hips at an incredibly fast speed, he couldn't hold back any longer, he needed it. Just like you.

"I'm going to come inside you, and you're going to let me, aren't you?" He growls at you, squeezing your thighs tightly.

"Y-yes, yes please." You plead, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you arch your body towards him, your nails digging into the sheets.

"Good, fucking good girl." He whispers, pulling his cock out of you, only to shove it in once more.

You both moan loudly at the sensation, your velvety, tight walls embracing him, pulling him in. His cock throbbing and twitching inside you, he was close, and he couldn't wait to fill you with his big, full load.

He was focused on giving you the most pleasure he could give, just to make sure you didn't forget him, and if he was lucky you could call him one more time.

And he didn't mind being your lover at all, there was no denying that he was very fond of the idea.

At that point, your moans filled the room, surely the neighbors next door could hear what was going on if they listened closely.

Not that you cared much about it, the swearing and sweet talk that escaped his lips, too lost in the moment to think about anything else.

His cock slid in and out of you, making the impure sound of bodies colliding, and Leon was closer to the edge, he wasn't going to hold back any longer.

"Close, Ah-, close," you moaned loudly, writhing and arching your body impatiently. You felt your orgasm building, your body trembling with pleasure beneath him.

He kisses your cheeks softly, whispering to you, "Me too, princess. Let's cum together, yeah? Be good for me, together."

With a loud moan you confirm, he increases the pace and puts the weight of his body on you, moaning and grunting in your ear. The thrusts were strong and deep, he made a point of hitting all your spots and making you see stars every time.

"Fuck - I'm cumming," he growls, his nails digging into your thighs, leaving light marks.

That was the last straw for you to reach your limit, your walls spasming on his cock, his white cream spurting into you. He came so much, so much that he hadn't realized the last time he'd felt this good.

"Good, fucking good." He murmurs, capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss, still moving slowly inside you.

His hands leave your thighs and find your hands, wrapping his fingers around yours.

"I want you, only you." He whispers against your mouth, kissing all over your face.

You bite your lip and stare at him, tempted to repeat the same sentence he's just said. Maybe it's selfish of you to want him all to yourself, when you couldn't do the same.

You couldn't promise to be his alone, and quite possibly you'd have to be husband and wife in secret. Not that it was a bad idea, even if it meant breaking a few hearts.

It wasn't long before he started kissing your neck, sucking lightly. He wanted to claim you again and again, for tonight you would be his alone. And he would make sure to mark you properly.

His fingers still wrapped around yours, as he whispered sweet nothings to you. You certainly wouldn't get out of that bed tonight, he wouldn't let you.

You would be two lovers in love, parting the next day. And looking forward to the next time. Regardless, the night would be memorable.

It would be a hell of a night.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon x y/n #leon x you #leon resident evil #leon kennedy smut #resident evil 2 leon #leon scott kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon smut #resident evil #resident evil leon

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teojira · 5 months ago

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(Planet of the apes) Please can you give me anything about Caesar like head cannons a fanfic anything please I am just in the mood for Caesar :(

[Assortment of Caesar headcanons]

Summary: Just random headcanons for Caesar x reader <3

Warnings: Monster/Human romance, angst, can't think of anything else!

A/N: Caesar my BELOVED, I hope these are okay anon! You didn't specify if you wanted romantic or platonic so I'll do a mix of both that you can read as either or! I love my man sm

Caesar is an old man at this point, he's tired. This being said, he is not above pinning you down and resting his entire fucking body weight on you.

You can struggle all you want, you cannot lift him up and you just have to sit there and let him do what he wants. And what he wants is to have 5 minutes of quiet with his favorite human, okay? Let him have this.

Caesar also takes it upon himself to help groom you, parting your hair, scratching at your scalp and checking you for anything, taking your face in his hands and twisting and turning your head every which way.

Very very huge worrier, he worries for you so much and it comes out as anger. He's not mad at you for doing what he seems stupid shit, he's mad because he's scared of you getting hurt and he can't fix it.

He usually won't leave you alone without at least one ape he trusts in the beginning, he's worried about another ape like Koba emerging, so for his sake, please stick around with Maurice.

Maurice loves you by the way, and so does Nova. Since you're immune to the sickness, you're able to freely interact with her, so whenever you're not with Caesar or Cornelius, you're with them.

Caesar watches you alot when you're not looking, especially when you're laughing and smiling with the young girl. It fills his heart with warmth, even more so when you include other apes in on your jokes.

Give him hugs, he'll never admit just how touch starved he is, the only apes he has physical affection with often were Cornelia, Blue eyes and Koba. He won't admit it that he misses it, but he gets a little huffy if you go on to hug Rocket and not him.

You make him feel younger, almost like how he used to be when he was with Will. Yes, he's a leader and he will always predominantly be the collected and righteous leader, but he has his little shit tendencies that come out when he's around you.

I don't care what anyone says, Caesar is asshole at his core, he's just repressed it because he's a leader. He's the kind of person to have a bug in his hand, and gesture for you to open your palm.

"Open your hand."

"...I don't trust you."

"You do trust me, now open."

And then you have a centipede in your hand and you screech and he just smirks and huffs out a laugh.

I've said it before but he is so overprotective, you will not leave the confines of the colony if he can help it.

He knows you're a grown adult, and that you are capable of holding your own but he doesn't care. He much rather have you here when he can keep an eye out for you.

That being said, he will go with you if you're insistent, he has to teach Cornelius how to hunt and fish anyways, so you come with. It's a family day trip:)

Caesar doesn't like guns, but he gives you a pistol, it's a huge sign of trust due to losing his wife and son by them, by being shot by them, and you know he's trusting you with his life.

Speaking of trauma, he littered with it. Sleep doesn't come as easy to him anymore, he's too anxious, to the point you're scared he'll have a heart attack.

The only way you've found that he'll relax enough to sleep is when you and Cornelius are by his side, his arms wrapped around the both of you.

He finds it hard to tell you about Cornelia, especially since you're both teetering on the verge of something more, he feels like he's betraying her, but you reassure him you'll wait for him as long as he needs. Never overstepping any boundary he has.

He loves you, truly he does, he didn't think he could continue on, even with getting everyone to relative safety, but you've always been there, loving not only him, but everyone else around you. He doesn't know what he'd do without you.

#teddy asks ♧#i love and miss him so much it hurts yall #planet of the apes x reader #planet of the apes #pota #kotpota #caesar x reader #teddy loves apes ☆#planet of the apes caesar

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ghostflowerhotpotch · 6 months ago

Text

Spider-Woman, NOT Ghost-Spider

This is a tip for people who want to go as canon as possible WITH THE MOVIES, since I feel a lot of people do this mistake because they look into the comics and mix things up.

If you want to call Gwen, Ghost-Spider in your fanfic/fanart/etc because you think is cool, go ahead! Go nuts! I'm not the canon police.

BUT-

In the movies, Gwen still calls herself Spider-Woman.

An explanation as to why this is important in the read more.

(Spoilers about the Spider-Gwen comics, I guess because I am not spoiling anything that came after 2019.)

When I say "important," I mean it in the stick-it-to-the-details type of deal; if you care about technicalities you care about this, but I know that's not the majority.

However, I do want to bring it up because the reason why Gwen switched in the comics, or rather, why chose Ghost-Spider of all things- is really neat and interesting story line that I feel a lot of people skip over when they 'chose' to call her that without knowing why she chose that name.

If you think Gwen has it rough in the movies, don't read the comics because they put this girl through the wringer.

Let's go a little bit before she chose that name.

As you can see, Gwen feels that she has always been marked by death, some way or another.

First her mother, then Peter, and is now hitting pretty hard after losing Spider-UK (is not Hobie, or Malala, I don't think he has appeared in the movies,) Noir and Karn, though arguably Billy was the one who hit her the hardest.

She went to other dimensions to tell their love ones that Billy and Noir passed away; it is implied how this is her way to try to make amends to what happened, make peace with herself.

But is not really enough, the topic doesn't leave her mind,

Death and pain certainly follow her often; she almost lost her dad for good, and she was definitely shaken after Harry got gravely injured precisely because he was always there for her.

That last panel never stops hitting hard for me.

There is just some quietness to it, about how no matter what she does, how hard she tried, Death continues to follow, one way or another. Even when she tries to be a hero, to do the right thing, death follows her.

In the comics, Gwen switches her name because she is studying in Earth-616 rather than her own dimension, so she switches names in order to avoid stepping in any toes.

So, in the movies, is kind of hard to think the switch would happen. Sure, Gwen is interacting with Jessica and other spiders, but believe me, the multiple spider-man haven't changed their names, so having Jessica in the spider society doesn't change much.

However, I do bring all of this because I think implementing this story line in the movies not only is feasible, it would be *amazing.*

The phrase "Death loves Gwen Stacy," not only hits hard for the Spider-Gwen in the comics, but for the movie counterpart too.

Think about it for a second; in the movies, Gwen feels she can't have friends because otherwise, they may lose them like Peter, she has convinced herself it can't work. And then. she goes to the Spider-Society.

And now she feels Gwen Stacy and Death always go hand in hand.

She learns how in so many universes, Peter is the one bitten, he is the one who lives, while Gwen Stacy dies, over, and over again. It almost seems like she is the outlier out of spite, how because she gets to live, everyone else pays the price.

Because Death loves Gwen Stacy, powers or not, that's not changing.

But at the end of the day-

And that's why, no matter what, she will continue fighting to protect her people.

#atsv #across the spiderverse #gwen stacy #spider-gwen #ghost-spider #spider-gwen comics #itsv #into the spider-verse #random spiderverse fact #I really hope people explore more this idea in the comics #is so good

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k0yaz · 4 months ago

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hey can you do a clorinde fanfic, where there’s a party in Fontaine and she gets like jealous of the amount of attention we’re getting from other people. And she like takes the reader to a private place to blur out her protectiveness but we like tease her about being jealous so she ends up confessing😻 (sorry this was long af💀)

sweet nothings.

Pairings: clorinde x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, jealousy, alcohol mention, weird guy trying to hit on u idk, teeny tiny bit of clorinde getting violent woah, protective grape lady awawawawa, uh oh she gets mad at for a sec, confessions idk??? GIRLS KISSING WEEWOOOWEEWOOO, navia is so lucky fr ngl, not proofread

A/N: WAAA IM OUT OF TEA 🕯️ oooo I like this emoji also navia is so lucky to have this woman I’m crying

Indistinct chatter circled the room of the banquet hall upon entering, making your eyes glance from side to side to observe the lavish interior of the hall. Each corner of the luxurious enclosure was packed to the brim with crowds of well dressed men and women, all standing upright in a distinctive manner, almost seeming insincere in their sophisticated habits. You blinked as you felt a shoulder push up against yours, brushing your silk clothing from behind. Clorinde made her way beside you, gently pushing her way through the congested crevices of the crowd.

“Mm. It took you long enough.” You snickered, earning an unamused scoff from Clorinde as she folded her arms to observe the atmosphere of the space. Despite being the champion duelist of Fontaine, Clorinde was never a huge fan of posh celebrations with many people. It wasn’t that she reserved from crowds or sheepish when interacting with other people, as being the champion duelist often would include public display before many.

Rather, it was the nagging feeling she would experience whenever some rich snob would enthusiastically speak with you, brushing his or her hand along your shoulder with a noticable covetous look in their eyes. The disgusting intentions behind their friendly demeanor made her want to circle her arm around your waist and pull you flush against her, making it clear for said person to take their hands off of you. Plus, the crowds furnishing said area would bring a sort of unease to her in a way, discomforting her when seeing the off-putting facades of others to keep up their image.

You immediately grasped Clorinde’s gloved hand, squeezing her palm flush against yours as your fingers locked between hers. Feeling her tense hand relax, you flashed her a sweet smile, attempting to reassure her that she wouldn’t have to worry about anything. That this party was just going to be a quick come and go event the two of you were invited to. She reluctantly nodded, bringing her free hand up and pushing her hat back to crease her forehead slightly.

“Sorry. There’s nothing you need to worry about. You can just enjoy yourself, (Name).” She replied, trying to uphold her stoic front in an attempt to hide any strong emotions. You shrugged in response, letting go of her hand as you decided to not look too much into Clorinde’s words. After all, she hasn’t been the most expressive person around. Yet nevertheless, she was your friend whom you cared so deeply for—so it wouldn’t hurt to keep a quick eye on her every moment or so to make sure she was fine. After all, you didn’t want anyone trying to snatch up your charming lady.

“If you say so, Clorinde.”

You forced your way through the cramped groups of people in the hall, finding your way to the alcohol station on the other side of the room. Looking over your shoulder, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy wrenching your chest upon seeing Clorinde already partaking in a conversation with a stranger. You shook your head, pushing your way to the alcohol station in order to concern yourself with how you were going to spend your own time here.

A thin glass of champagne suddenly slid your way, slightly hitting your elbows situated on the table. You perked up, a little perplexed at the sudden glass filled with freshly filled champagne before you. Did this hall have some sort of strange automatic serving system?

“I’m up here.”

A low voice called out, placing a hand on the table before you as you heard the click of a tongue. Looking up, you were met with the sight of a seemingly wealthy man eyeing you as he poured himself another glass of champagne. You paused, raising an eyebrow before delivering him an awkward smile, shrinking back slightly as he gave you an uncomfortably friendly grin. “Ah. Thanks for the drink.” You hesitated, bringing the glass to your lips as you sipped the alcohol, averting your eyes from the strangely amiable man.

Before long swarms of people circled around you, showering you with attention and flattery as you let out a hearty laugh at their praises. Your face was flushed from the drinks that you had, your….sixth? Seventh..? You didn’t even know which one it was as you let out a laugh from everyone speaking to you with such a profound interest in you. All of a sudden, you noticed that same man who slid you that drink about an hour ago push his way through the array of people bundled up before you, shouldering past them until he stood directly in front of you with a rather odd expression you couldn’t put your finger on.

You raised an eyebrow as he took your hand abruptly, his own face flushed as well. The crowd seemed to part themselves from the two of you, with others on the side also noticing the exchange between you two. Raising an eyebrow, you squinted your eyes as you felt his other hand rest upon your shoulder, a sort of unsettlingly craving sense present in his expression. “What are you even doing…?” You drawled out, not thinking to push him off immediately due to your senses still being foggy. He just let out a hum as his fingers tightened into your shoulder, making you wince from the slight ache.

Your eyes flickered with a slight twinge of distasteful revulsion as he leaned in uncomfortably close to your face, trying to close the distance every time you repelled back from his face.

All of a sudden, he skidded backwards against the floor, being driven back away from you as a shocked expression adorned his face. Your eyebrows raised in slight surprise, not expecting to see Clorinde directly behind him, fingers firmly grasping the back of his collar. Her deadpan eyes pierced into him, leaving a hanging silence in the whole hall upon seeing the whole fiasco pan out before them.

After what seemed like centuries of silence among the party, Clorinde’s low voice broke through the silence as you could sense her annoyance from the way she glared down at the man—who was pathetically scrambling away from her to his own safety. “Get. Away from her.” She hissed, her tone laced with venom. You felt her hand grasp your arm and yank you away from the center of the crowd, hundreds of eyes still fixated on you and tracking your movement as Clorinde dragged you outside the banquet hall.

Once outside, Clorinde rested her arms along the stone lining of the balcony, the cool air grazing your skin as the continued chatter resumed behind you. The muffled noise resounding from the banquet hall was the least of your worries as you saw the duelist reclined against the balcony, eyes aimlessly focused on random sights below the elevated platform. Not understanding the sudden protective action she took, you staggered over to her, step still slightly wobbly from the alcohol in your system.

“Pfft..are you still gonna act like you didn’t just drag me out like a jealous girlfriend-?” You beamed, face tinted a muted red as you leaned against the railing on one arm to grin in Clorinde’s direction. She only huffed in response, lowering her hat bashfully and avoiding eye contact with you.

“He was forcing himself onto you.”

“Ha! No he just thought wrong. I would’ve pushed him away if I wasn’t screwed up right now.”

She grit her teeth in irritation, grasping the white-rocked stone railing. Taking notice of this, the corners of your mouth only raised into an amused smile as you decided to tease her further. “Jeez Clorinde, you’re acting like you’re in love with me or something from how jealous you are-!”

“Because I am!”

She suddenly snapped, looking over at you with a hardened scowl scrunching up her face. You flinched slightly, not expecting the upfront and straightforward expression. Clorinde took a moment to herself, hissing out a frustrated sigh to compose herself as she pinched her nose.

“Hold on. You love me..?” You began with a perplexed look written all over you, slowly pointing your finger toward yourself as if you were trying to affirm that it was in fact you. She let out a sigh of resignation, finally being able to meet your eyes as she took your hands in hers. The breeze swayed her deep purple hair along her face, making her look absolutely breathtaking as her violet eyes softened. Her hold on your palms grew firm, yet tender as she murmured out.

“I do. I don’t know how long I’ve felt like this toward you, (Name). But I do love you.”

The words fell from her lips in a velvety voice that echoed in your mind, making you take a moment to process the sweet statement Clorinde had just uttered. It took a moment to collect yourself. Your face was still bright red, but you weren’t sure it was still from the alcohol now.

“Ugh..why didn’t you just tell me?! I love you too, Clorinde..” you scoffed. Unbelievable. There’s no way she hid this from you for so long. “And I’m not just saying that. The guy was ugly anyway.”

A soft chuckle escaped Clorinde, making her finally smile as her face was dusted with a soft hue of red as well. Without hesitation, her breath fanned against your cheek as she leaned in, dangerously close to your face. Unlike with that odd man in the crowd, you didn’t back away from Clorinde’s touch. Instead, you only leaned in, eyes fluttering shut as you felt the warm embrace of her breath hitting your flushed skin.

Your eyes shot open as she pecked a quick kiss to the corner of your lip, a slightly skeptical look crossing your features as you expected more.

“In what way was that fair-?” You huffed, only causing Clorinde to stifle an amused laugh in reply. “Maybe when we get home, love.” She affirmed, making your mind race for a brief moment at her promise. You giggled and cupped her cheeks as her nose brushed against yours, closing your eyes in bliss as the wind delivered a relaxing cold breeze. You sighed softly, pulling away as you straightened your ruffled clothing and hair and took Clorinde’s hand in yours. Both of your gentle expressions harbored a palpable romantic atmosphere between the two of you, the looks on the two of you being equivalent to whispering sweet nothings.

You hummed to yourself as Clorinde brought your hand up, pressing a soft kiss upon your rigid knuckles.

“Let’s just go home, yeah?”

A/N: IM SORRY IT WASNT EXACTLU WHAT YOU REQUESTED I READ IT WRONG also my hair is so oily rn I need to wash it

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