#god i also want to write his thoughts for those early days | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

miupow · 3 months ago

Note

I need a fic where pregnant reader feels so gross and unattractive but she doesn’t realize Soobin is so down bad for pregnant her. Like he goes out of his way to show her just how turned on he is but nothing works, until one day he presses himself against her and it finally clicks for her and she gets the nastiest wetted sex of her life like he’s trying to get her pregnant again like ugh

⧼ 🍼 ⧽ ── GROWING PAINS 。

soobin needs you to know just how much he loves your new body。

╭♡ pairing 。〃choi soobin x fem!reader ! genre 。〃pure smut , fluff ! warning 。〃minors do not interact! pregnant!reader , husband!soobin , pregnancy kink , lactation kink , breeding kink , dirty talk , praise kink , sub top!soobin , handjob (m.rec) , oral (f. rec) , mentions of unprotected sex

a/n 。〃not proofread ! my first time writing pregnant!reader, so let me know if it sucks! also take a shot every time i use the word “nipple” lol

♡ ⸝⸝ ꒰ 1.7k ꒱ ‧ ꒰ m.list ꒱ ‧ ꒰ reblogs and feedback appreciated! ꒱

you had found a lot of solace in baking as of recent— it was one of the few things you could still do this far along in your pregnancy, big belly and aching joints always getting in the way of everything else. you just couldn’t stand the thought of laying around all day, wasting all of your maternity leave doing nothing except waiting for your husband to come home from work. you had to make yourself useful somehow.

you hear the front door open just as you slide your pie into the oven, the soft jingling of keys reaching your ears as your husband drops them in the trinket dish you keep in the hallway. before you can turn to greet him strong arms wrap themselves around your protruding belly, soobin’s tall frame hunched over to bury his face in your neck, plant sweet kisses to your skin.

“i’m home, bunny,” he mumbles against your collarbone, his trail of kisses slowly leading down your shoulder. “how are my perfect girls doing?”

“hi honey, you’re home early,” you giggle, turning your head to give him a kiss; he hums against your lips, big hands rubbing your belly through the loose dress you wore. he was always extra touchy after getting home from work, but this was odd even for him. he must have had a bad day, you thought. “‘m all sore ‘n tired; the twins woke me up from my nap and i couldn’t go back to sleep so i decided to make dessert early so it’ll be cooled down by tonight.”

“mm, you’re so good to me. i’m sorry the babies are bothering you, honey,” soobin replied, pressing his body flush against yours. “the boss let me go early; i finished up that project he wanted done before the deadline, he said i needed to go home and help out my wife. go rest and i’ll take care of you, i’ve been thinking about you all day, baby….”

“oh, sweetie… well, i wouldn’t mind a hand in cleaning up the kitchen—“ you start, but stop dead in your tracks— you can feel soobin’s cock against the swell of your ass, thick and heavy through his slacks. he rocks his hips up against you gently, an almost inaudible whimper falling from the bunny lips he buried in your hair.

“binnie,” you whimper, arousal pooling in your belly despite your shock, “you’re hard.”

“‘m sorry, bunny,” he groans into your ear, deep and dripping with desire. it knocks the wind out of your lungs, makes you gasp against his lips when he leans in for another, filthier kiss. “you’re just so sexy, i’ve been needing you so bad… thinking about your beautiful body all day while trying to get my work done..”

you frown at the words ‘beautiful body’, squirming in your husband’s grip. he notices in an instant, your sweet husband always so perceptive to how you were feeling; whining and pouting those plump bunny lips you adored. “i don’t understand why you’re so self conscious… god, you’re so perfect— this is the best you’ve ever looked, you look so beautiful carrying my children, baby. it makes me so fucking crazy, you have no idea…”

“really..?” you turn to look at him, and his eyes lock with yours— the raw hunger you find in his gaze is unlike anything you had ever seen before from your sweet, shy husband.

his hands caressed your tummy and hips, slid up your sides to cup your swollen, sensitive tits, bare underneath your dress. the gentlest squeeze was enough to get you to gasp and moan, your puffy nipples threatening to leak, soobin drinking up your reactions like he wishes to drink your milk. “let me show you how much i love your body, please…”

⸝⸝

“binnie, oh my god, slow down! you’re gonna make me cum again!” you wail, your hands shaking as they tug at the hem of your little dress. you couldn’t see your husband over the swell of your belly, but you could feel his lips and tongue hot and heavy against your pussy, sliding up between your pussy lips to swirl around your clit. you were still recovering from the last orgasm he slurped out of you, your pussy drunk husband refusing to let up his onslaught of pleasure even as you cried, begged, and tugged at his hair— far too soon was that dizzying pleasure building back up in your tummy, your thighs shaking in soobin’s grip as he pushed you further and further to the edge.

“fuck yes, do it, cum for me!” soobin moans with his mouth full, tongue dipping deep into your hole, big hands tightening their grip and tugging you impossibly closer. “cum on my face, baby, please! make a mess—!”

his desperation does you in; you cum again with a sharp cry, your overstimulated little pussy pulsating uncontrollably as soobin eagerly laps up every drop of your release. you soak your thighs, your dress, and the bed underneath you— and, as soobin presses a kiss to your clit and pulls away from your slippery pussy to shoot you a silly, satisfied smile, you can see that you’ve soaked the bottom half of his face as well. it drips from his chin as he crawls up over you, his eyes slowly trailing from your flushed face down to your quivering tits.

and just as he takes in the sight of your heaving chest, his eyes widen and his mouth drops agape. confused, you follow his gaze… and take in the sight of two identical wet patches seeping through your white dress, your puffy nipples visible and budding noticeably through the fabric.

you had leaked milk in the midst of your climax.

“oh god,” you whine shamefully, raising your hands to attempt to hide the mess. “i’m so sorry, don’t look—“

soobin grabs your wrists in a rush before you could cover yourself, big brown eyes still glued to your tits. “fuck, bunny..” he marvels, licking his lips, “did i make you do that? that’s so sexy, holy shit—“

“s-sexy?” you stammer, shocked at his reaction. soobin nods.

“can i touch?” he asks in almost a whisper, eyes finally leaving your chest to blink up at you wantonly “please let me touch you, please..”

a hesitant “okay…” was all that he needed, instantly letting go of your wrists to tug down the top of your dress and take large handfuls of your breasts. more milk leaks out onto his fingers from the rough handling, making him groan deep in his chest as he marvels at the sight of the pearly white droplets cascading down the swell of your tits. your spent, sensitive pussy throbs at the sound, your husband sounding so unbelievably ruined and needy.

“so pretty…” soobin mumbles, wet fingertips beginning to pinch and tweak at your embarrassingly hard nipples. “my wife’s so pretty with my babies in her belly. gonna be such a good mommy… god bunny, i want to keep you pregnant forever, all full of me, claimed by me, so everyone knows you’re mine—!”

his fingers tighten harshly around your nipples, the pressure causing your milk to squirt out obscenely; soobin watches in awe, his eyes hazy and unfocused as he pants like a dog, kneads your sensitive swollen tits rougher and rougher. you fist the bedsheets and writhe under his touch, your high-pitched, broken gasps and moans reverberating off the walls of your shared bedroom— briefly you have half the mind to pray that your neighbors aren’t home.

soobin dips his head to nose along the contours of your breast, his hot breath tickling your skin; those spit-slick bunny lips just barely ghost your bud, a jolt of electricity shooting down your spine as his tongue sneaks out to lap the lingering milk off of your skin.

he looks up at you with watery eyes, smirk plastered on his lips at your pathetic whimper. “can i.. can i have a taste?” he asks quietly, deep voice octaves lower than you’ve ever heard it. “let me taste you…please, baby, i can’t take it anymore…”

you nod desperately, throwing your head back against the pillows, and soobin shoots you a deadly smirk before sealing his lips around your nipple.

he lets out a deep moan as his mouth fills with milk, sucking with a voracious hunger; you cry out in pleasure, letting go of the sheets to grab desperately at his dark hair. you tug mindlessly at the strands as his suction deepens, soobin letting out the prettiest choked whimper that goes straight to your quickly wetting pussy.

he sucks until your tit runs dry, pulling off of your irritated bud with an obscene string of saliva— wordlessly he moves on to your other neglected nipple, his fingers coming back up to play with the one he released. the combined sensations are almost too much for you, your shaking legs wrapping tight around soobin’s trim waist; you can feel the curve of his rock hard cock grind against your dripping cunt, drenching the thin fabric of his boxers and aiding in the delicious slide of his hot fat shaft against your slit. your pussy suddenly feels so painfully empty, your hips bucking in desperation as soobin empties your other breast of milk. “you feel what you do to me?” he mumbles against your flesh, hips picking up speed, “feel how hard you make me?”

the hand you had in soobin’s hair trails down his chest to his straining cock, rubbing his twitching shaft through his boxers; soobin cries out around your nipple, his hips stuttering, and you can’t help but giggle as you dip your hand below his waistband.

the tip of his cock throbs an angry red, thick fat shaft slapping wetly against his taut belly. “all this for me?” you purr, gathering the precum dripping from his cockhead to slick up your hand; it only takes a few slow pumps of his cock to get soobin begging, your poor husband wound up and aching for release.

“please, please baby, let me fuck you— i gotta fuck you, i’m so hard it hurts,” he whimpers, releasing your tit with a wet pop, “gotta fill you up, put more babies in you… gonna be such a happy family..”

what kind of wife would you be to say no?

#txt x reader #soobin x reader #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt smut #txt fluff #soobin hard thoughts #soobin hard hours #soobin smut #soobin fluff

2K notes · View notes

jasmines-library · 8 months ago

Note

Hey, I love your Batfam work! Is there any chance you could do a whump/angst one of batsis being kidnapped by a villian(you can choose whoever you want) and she’s tortured for days with it being broadcasted to the Batfam while they try to track the footage. I feel kinda bad but can you do maybe some head trauma md severe burns? Maybe she has to be put in a medically included coma or smth because of the damage? Also is there any way you could include Barb and Duke along w/ the four robins? If not that’s totally cool! Sorry for the long request but I hope you have a great day!!

Anonymous Requested: batfam x batsib reader whos the youngest and newest robin and is just really goofy and doesn’t take anything seriously (ex: them blaring “who’s the (bat)man” on the comms during patrol [that songs stuck in my head i had to mention it]) and something happens, maybe their first close encounter to death or a run in with the joker and they just become a shell of who they were and stuff

Jokes On Me

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Note: My god im so sorry this literally took me forever to write, thank you so much for being patient. I've been trying to write this all week but just couldn't sit down for long enough to finish it.

Warnings: Torture, blood, burns.

Word Count: 2.5k

⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

“Y/N, turn that shit off.”

Jason grumbled at you over the coms. You had been blasting some wretched song that you’d found on the internet over and over again and it was beginning to drive him mad.

“Nope.” You said, popping the ‘p’ loudly.

“Seriously.” Dick deadpanned. He had found it amusing at first, but it was now beginning to test his patience.

Agitated, you sighed and turned off the music. “Fine.”

“Thank you.” Jason expressed gratefully, turning his eyes back to the road he was patrolling. The night was cool and quiet besides the odd dog walker or couple returning from an evening out. It was one of those nights where patrol would end early and he could return home to take a warm bath and read a book before turning in for the night. Or so he thought.

You were rounding the corner, humming that tune that was still stuck in your head when his laughter ricocheted across the walls. You stiffened, eyes widening and hands fumbling for your weapon as your breath hitched. No amount of turning and craning your head allowed you to catch a glimpse of the dreaded figure, and you thought for a moment that perhaps it had just been a trick of your mind, or one of your brothers playing a cruel joke on you as payback for winding them up earlier. But then you heard it again, only this time to your left. You clutched your weapon tighter, eyes scanning the area with a new found sense of urgency.

“Wing…” You whispered into the coms so quietly that you were surprised he heard it.

“What now?” He somewhat snapped.

“We have a problem.”

Dick’s heart sank through the floor, his ears pricking up and his demeanour changing completely. “Where are you? What’s the matter? He was trying to let his panic show, but you hadn’t been patrolling as a vigilante for very long, and while you were well trained, you lacked the experience to deal with something big on your own. And from your tone of voice, he could tell that you were in some deep shit.

Jason worked his legs harder to push himself to reach the direction he had seen you head off in. Albeit it seemed even his hardest wasn’t enough.

When he stepped out of the darkness, the first thing you noticed were his eyes. Wide and bright, easily mistakable for a cat’s as they flashed in the darkness; wild. Rabid. As he emerged fully with that infamous twisted grin splayed out on his face, you felt like a cornered animal; a deer in headlights. You froze, unable to move despite how your heart screamed at you to run as it pounded, trying to break free from your ribcage.

“He’s here…” A mere whisper sliding over your tongue, so fragile that you weren’t even sure if you had actually said it aloud. Jason had heard it.

“Who?”

The Joker was circling you now, dragging out his strides in lazy circles. You should have fought but in that moment all of your training had drained out of you, along with the colour in your face. He smirked, leering down upon you as you tried to keep your trembling hand still. He pouted in mockery and at your silence, Jason repeated his question to you, but you never got the chance to respond.

“Oh…Just an old friend, Jay-bird.”

“Joker.” Urging his body to move faster, Jason grit his teeth.

Dick paled. “You leave them alone.” Dick spat. It tried to be a command, but the effect was lost somewhere in transmission.

The joker pursed his lips, tilting his head as he analysed. One of his hands had found his way to your jawline and he trailed it with a cold, gloved hand. You wanted to lean away, to run and find your brother but you knew that now he had you in his grasp there was no point in even trying. “And why would I do that? They’re right in front of me. I could just…snatch them up.”

“Don’t you dare!” Dick was frightened now. “Y/N, you stay there as long as you can, okay? You fight. We’re coming, you hear?”

The Joker frowned at you. “D’you hear that? Big brother birdy coming to the rescue. How sweet.”

His grip on you tightened. “Too bad you’ll be long gone by the time they get here.”

With one swift motion, he had thrown you harshly to the side, your head colliding with the wall with a sickening crack.

The two boys skidded to a halt just a second too late. You were already gone.

Your head hurt when you woke up. Your eyes squinted against the sterile light. They did no favours to your pounding headache. With a groan, you tried to twist, to roll over and soothe the crook in your neck but instead all that happened was the jinging of a metal chain. You craned your head and spotted the thick chain that had been wrapped around your wrist, confining you to the chair. Struggling, you tugged on them, trying to free yourself only for them to rattle and scrape against your skin.

“Yeah, that’s not going anywhere, birdy.” The joker chided.

You glared at him through narrowed eyes, trying to mask the thumping of your heart. The joker grinned wildly at your frightened complexion.

“It was such a shame that Grayson and Todd didn’t get to you in time, but it was far too easy to catch you, little bird: you completely froze.” He snapped his fingers to emphasise his point. “Didn’t batsy teach you better?”

“Don’t talk about them.” You snapped.

The joker raised his hands, palms facing toward you in surrender: taunting you as if you were the one with the power in the situation. “Touchy subject I see. Too bad.”

He gestured above you to an incessantly blinking light. “Smile for the camera, you’re live.”

Babs had been monitoring the street cameras when the computer beside her flickered to life. She had been searching for any sign of you ever since Dick and Jason came flying through the grandfather clock. Everyone was on edge.

The moment the screen flashed on, her eyes perked up to watch it, alarmed. She hadn’t turned it on. And there were very few people who could bypass the caves system. So when she saw a small frame curled up in a chair she knew immediately what was up.

“Duke…” she called to the dark haired boy who was trying to help decipher your whereabouts. “Go and get B.”

It did not take long at all for everyone to gather around in the cave. Duke was fast, and everyone dropped what they were doing to race down: even Alfred had taken his leave from his duties to see.

It was almost like some sick irony because as soon as they were all there, you began to scream. A guttering, perfect scream that cut that through them like a knife: unclean and pinging into them messily again and again.

The joker had taken a knife to your left thigh, his smile dripping with malice as he watched the camera, somehow knowing that at least one of them would be watching.

Your face was contorted in pain, twisting in agony as tears rolled flatly down your cheeks from fearful eyes. Damian felt sick, his stomach churning. Jason wanted to leave. But all of them were stuck watching. Barbra was tapping away, trying to locate the signal from the video to no avail.

“I hope you’re watching this Batsy…” He moved round to trail your face with the edge of the knife. You whimpered. “I’ve got your little bird here and I must say, you need to work on their training. They were far too easy to catch.”

Bruce felt his jaw tightening and Tim had to place a hand on his arm to remind him of his place.

“Anyway I thought we would play a little game… how long can little y/n survive for. I wonder if it’ll be any longer than our very own Jason Todd.”

Jason twitched.

“I’m testing you here, Bat. Tick Tock.”

The transmission cut to black.

It seemed hopeless. Even though they had been searching for days, they were no closer to finding you. And to make matters worse, they could see you. Not long after the first transition ended did it start up again. It had been lifestreaming since then, and although they had tried to block it from their minds, it was hard to ignore. Especially when your agonised screams ricocheted throughout the halls.

You looked like hell. Dark bags occluded under your eyes and there wasn’t an inch of your skin that wasn’t marred or stained with drying blood. The burns were worse. Damian could still hear the scream you let out when the joker first brought the hot poker to your skin. It had bubbled and blistered as the skin peeled away; you had thrashed against your restraints violently. Tim was certain that they were going to get infected if they didn’t reach you soon.

It felt as if they had searched everywhere. Dick and Jason had even asked around to see if anyone had heard anything, going as far to talk to the Jokers closest associates in Arkham, but even if they did know, nobody said anything. Duke had even gone as far to go back to the area to use his powers to see if he could trace anything, but nothing seemed out of place; they had hit a brick wall. That was…until a small light appeared on the monitor. Babs had managed to trace the signal to a small building on the outskirts of the city.

They were suited up in minutes, making a beeline for the building. They stormed it, recklessly taking down the Joker's goons before Batman chased wildly after the Joker, his face stony and his fists burning with anger. The other four boys chased down the winding corridors, flinging open the doors until they found one that was locked. Tim wasted no time, picking the lock with ease he peeled it open. His breath hitched when he saw you.

Your face was gaunt, hanging low by your chest. Your suit was torn and there was less of it on your body than there was ripped away. You looked so fragile as your chest heaved sporadically.

Jason nearly had to take a step back. This place reminded himself too much of his own encounter with the Joker not too long ago. But he pressed forward, fighting his instincts. He had to be strong. Instead of turning back, he kneeled in front of you, whispering your name. His hand came up to cup your face. You flinched away.

“It’s okay kid. It’s us.” He tried to reassure you, but you shrank back into yourself.

“We’re so, so sorry kiddo.” Dick tried placing a gentle hand on your arm before moving to work on the cuffs around your wrists. “We’re going to get you out.”

You said nothing, just continued to stare at the black space before you, and Dami wasn’t sure if you even knew they were in front of you. But when Jason moved away from you to help remove your restraints, your fingers latched onto him and you squeaked in protest.

He sighed shakily. “Don’t worry kid. I’m not going anywhere.”

Damian twisted from where he was guarding the door. “We need to leave.”

Dick nodded bluntly, finishing with the last of the locks. “I’m going to have to pick you up, okay sweetheart?”

You barely registered what he had said. Everything had grown numb, you nodded anyhow. Moving his arms underneath your legs and slipping one arm behind your back, Jason began to lift you. He nearly recoiled when you cried and whimpered with the way your wounds jostled as he sprinted out of the building to get you back to safety.

You were yet to say anything since you came home. You had been back a few days and your wounds were healing up nicely thanks to Alfred’s handywork, but the air was eerily silent around you. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t been communicating with them; you spoke to them with gestures or writing but no one was used to not hearing your voice. The stark contrast between your loud and bustling personality and you now was unsettling. No one wanted to push you too far but the manor was beginning to grow lonely.

It was one particularly rainy night when you finally spoke. You were curled up in a large armchair by the window in the library, sinking back into the plush leather as you watched the raindrops race down the glass. Jason had been watching you from afar, contemplating whether to talk to you or not when he walked over.

“What are you up to?” He asked you, making sure you knew that he was there before he spoke.

You gestured toward the window,then to the half opened book at your feet and shrugged.

“I see.” He nodded, taking a seat on the armchair opposite you. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you. Jason wasn’t much of a talker. He knew more than anyone what you were going through, which was why it was nice just to know that he was willing to sit with you, just so you knew that he was there if you needed him. It made you feel safe. But you also couldn’t help but feel guilty, and frustrated with yourself for being in a place that made him feel as though he had to do that.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered.

Jason had to do a second take. His heart swelled. “What for?”

You sighed. “This. When I saw him…i-i froze. If I had run then this would never have happened.”

“Shh. This isn’t your fault.”

“But-”

“I promise, Kid. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

You nodded, looking away from him. But then you furrowed your brows and turned back to him. “How did you do it? How did you deal with this, Jay? Every time I close my eyes he’s there.”

“I guess I don’t, really. Or sometimes it feels like I don’t. I still get scared sometimes. I still see him in my dreams. But over time it gets easier. I had people around me to help me. And so do you, kid. We’re here. We’ll always be here.”

Jason shifted to brush away a rogue tear and you leaned into his touch and then wrapped your arms tightly around his middle.

“I’m here. Always. We’ll get through this together.”

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

BATFAM TAGS

@aestheticdaisies @hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @mamapucket @hell-o-kittys @harleycao @batfamsstuff @alicedawitchbish

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

2K notes · View notes

tojisun · 7 days ago

Text

the hand that feeds you

— “i take care of her, s’all.”

johnny mactavish x f!reader

cw: 18+ work - minors dni; age difference; daddy issues (kinda the central plot); cooking as a love language; slow burn but in high speed; a breath of angst; power imbalance; canon divergence - regular/non-military life au // amazing divider by @gildui! // 6.5k words

extra notes: this is a very self-indulgent work. there are holes in the plot, 100%, so ignore those holes pretty pls </3 also ik this is more of a captain johnny-verse but midway through, i started projecting so i might’ve written him incorrectly and im really sorry for that!!

being roommates with johnny is not as weird as it is; he’s amicable, at first, then full blown nice when days passed. he’s not loud, per se, but there’s always a constant chatter streaming from his space, like he physically can’t sit still through the silence which is great because you don’t fare any better with the stillness too, so reminiscent of how it was in the suburbs.

you moved to a neighbourhood just skirting past the inner city just because it’s a lot cheaper. but even then, rent was always high and your little box in a rundown complex wasn’t going to sustain you forever even if you wished it would. then, an opening in johnny’s townhouse was posted, almost half-price than whatever is up in the market, and it’s great despite your skepticism. hell, it’s more than great — it’s lifesaving.

your shitty job at the bookstore really can’t cover much of your expenses anymore, and sure student loans and the grant is great, but the growing debt makes you wince so it’s whatever at this point. you’re about to graduate soon anyway, pooling work experience from volunteering and club organizations, and it’s not like you can even go back to how it was.

(underway to law school, primed up before your father’s scrutiny but the burnout got to you before you could even write the LNAT. you realized that being a barrister wasn’t really what you wanted so you changed programs, midway, and switched to children’s education.

god, the disappointment in your pa’s eyes was so big, you knew to pack your shit before he could even kick you out.)

it’s… tough.

god, is it tough. none of your old friends and colleagues could stay in contact, which you don’t hold against them because most of them, by now, have graduated and entered law school. you’re straggling about two years back because of the switch in programs, and everything’s gone too tight. your budget. your social life.

your dating life.

johnny often distracts you from it all — he works in downtown, in one of those high-rise buildings often reserved for limiteds or holding companies, and has to travel off the city every three months. he makes good money, he said jovially, and you know it’s a nudge as to why your portion of the rent is cheap in the first place.

when you finally bit the bullet and asked why he put up one of the rooms in the market, johnny just shrugged and said he needed someone to house sit but sort off permanently. said something like last time he left, the pipes bursted and he couldn’t really fly back to help with the repairs.

it’s great being with him. he’s bright and bubbly, but also dependable in ways you never really thought about. like—

well, it’s all mundane things so listing them feels embarrassing, and it makes you feel as though you’re a touch-starved damsel and johnny just so happened to be the next older man to give you any attention and his time. but you can’t help it. god, you can’t help preen at the way he exists beside you.

he’s just so… beautiful, is what it is.

rugged and charming and loud and filling. the townhouse is too big for the two of you, but johnny makes it work. makes it feel like the two of you just fit into each other’s spaces.

early mornings are spent with him lilting between english and scottish, his exhaustion plastered onto him even after he’s downed two cups of coffee. he bumps his hip onto yours when he ambles out to prepare for his work, grumbling something like good morning and how’re you. afternoons are more lively and productive; it’s of you coming back from campus at six in the evening only to find him in the kitchen, fixing up dinner. it’s always something fancy and rich in flavour; something he always eats with wine on the side.

you, uh, you never thought he could actually cook, let alone feed himself well, but there he was, always a plate ready for you too like it’s expected that you’ll eat dinner with him. like spending time with him was just natural — the sky is blue, the ocean’s deep, and you and johnny fall into each other like there is an invisible string pulling you close to him.

it’s a beautiful change of pace, and there are more days now when you can breathe in a little easier, and you know it’s all because of johnny. it’s all him who pulled you out of your slump and out of that darkness and gave you the room, literally, to grow.

he’s beautiful, but you’ve said that already, haven’t you? he’s just… so good to be with.

then, johnny began picking up and bringing some home.

the first time it happened was shocking, really.

you had an early morning, something that’s so murky now in your memories so you’re unsure if it was anything uni related or work related, just that it was five in the morning and you were clambering downstairs as quietly as you could. you rounded the length of the hallway from the platform to the kitchen when you ran into someone.

“steady,” she’d said, voice hoarse and loud in her shock too.

you yelled, jumping, arms swinging because was there an intruder, and it took johnny physically subduing you for you to calm down. looking back now, you burn in embarrassment, but then you had been so worried, your body wound up so tightly in your fear.

“shh,” johnny had murmured with that wry grin. “s’just me, lass.”

your eyes danced between him and the brunette — pretty even in her rumpled shirt, with long legs and a small waist — trying to understand what was going on. you are sure johnny had told you before that he wasn’t seeing anyone so who—

“your girlfriend?” she asked johnny, turning to him with her lips pursed and her brow cocked up.

the question settled in your stomach, doing wonders to your already-fragile psyche. you’d just spent hours thinking about johnny and what he meant to you; what living with him meant. how it eased up something carved within the trenches of your being, like you’d always been waiting for someone like him.

the question was a reminder, like prickling you with icicles, leaving you to navigate the swoop. but johnny had laughed, nothing mean but so dismissive that you felt the curl of shame brandishing from the base of your spine like johnny was laughing at you.

“oh, nah,” he replied, arm still slung over your shoulders. “she’s sorta my ward, yes? i take care of her, s’all.”

that’s all. you’re nothing more to him but a ward. a tenant. not even a friend—

she hummed, then leaned over to kiss johnny, her eyes still drawn to you like she’s watching, waiting for a reaction, and when she got none, she trudged to the door. you and johnny watched as she bent down to slip in her shoes, some stilettos with red bottoms, before wordlessly disappearing into the darkened morning.

“pretty,” you chirped, trying to break the tension of whatever that was.

johnny laughed in that way that surely crinkled his eyes, only to steer the conversation away by asking why you were up early. you remembered what you had to do and you dived to the kitchen in a flurry, chatting about the deadlines and due dates — so it was a school thing — and johnny just watched, silent, humming, eyes still curved in his glee.

you left no sooner than his… paramour did and, for a while, that was that.

but your semester is coming to a close and your schedule is changing, but so is johnny’s. he’s coming home later and later, but always seemed to offer apologies in the form of easy-to-microwave meals for your dinner. they’re still homemade, probably cooked up in the morning before he left for work, and you’d messaged him to say that he didn’t need to worry about you. that, sure, you came to him amidst financial struggle, juggling work and school, and trying to decide if you would have to starve this month because of rent, but you can cook. for yourself and for him too.

johnny’s face did a terrible thing when you mentioned that in person, the first in a while after things got hectic.

“what,” you bit out, embarrassed.

“nothing,” he said, blinking like he was realizing things he shouldn’t. “s’fun doing things f’r you.”

then he clamped up, spooning soup into his mouth, some of it messily dribbling into his chin. it’s not like you were doing any better, with how your throat closed up at his words, eyes going wide.

it’s been a thing, is what it is, but neither of you two have ever acknowledged that it’s a thing. it’s been a wordless experience — of johnny taking over things when it comes to the house because of course he will, it’s his home, but he always covers things for you too. things you’re sure normal landlords don’t really worry about, but not johnny.

there’s always extra food in the kitchen, extra blankets when the weather dips. there’s even a new cooling machine for the summer even though you know johnny’s room already has an installed air conditioning. he’s even changed the seats in the dining room because he caught you once hitting your hip after an all-nighter on a project.

then, he refurbished the den to make it your office.

“you didn’t have to,” you told him, mind racing at your savings, wondering if he was going to increase your rent.

johnny just shook his head with an almost fond roll of his eyes and clapped your back, arm hovering there. “s’all yers, hen.”

everything he did always accounted for you. so why the women?

they’re all long limbed and trimmed waist, with eyes that sparkled even when all you’ve seen of them is always within the poorly-lit hallway. they have voices that curl teasingly, breathy like they’re enticing johnny for one more night. and they’ve always, always, treated you like a—

like a kid.

a burden, almost, of johnny’s.

and, hell, maybe you are. johnny’s almost twice your age; he’s also already well-established in his career, some senior position that you can’t really follow but one he talks about with fondness. he’s got land rover-money, the car in his garage big and black and almost military grade, and it looks so expensive especially beside the crappy civic you were able to snag for a cheap price because it’s got about three-hundred-thousand mileage already.

you’ve got nothing to give him, other than the lousy rent payment that he doesn’t even really need but is just asking for courtesy because it’d be so weird for him to offer a room, or two now given you have the den too, for free. you’ve got nothing on your name, and if it isn’t pity that makes johnny care for you, then you don’t know what.

maybe his string of one-night stands are right — you are just a kid.

that maybe you really are still too wet behind the ears for the real world that you go running to the next person that could protect you from it, stumbling into his life and licking up every drop of his attention, mistaking his kindness for devotion. his care for love.

you should have known, then, that the thoughts would ripple, leaving you to feel like the days are unnavigable. obsession quickly took root, growing fangs, and it ensnared you; a vice noose at what had been a pleasant coexistence.

hell, you can barely stand being with johnny because of the jealousy. it’s a shameful thing, but a part of you thinks you deserve johnny more than the others do.

you tell yourself that nobody knows about johnny’s nightmares and the horrors that spill from his lips when it’s twelve in the morning and the two of you have hit the bourbon. you tell yourself that nobody knows about johnny’s aversion to the windows in the living room; that the reason why the curtains are a deep green is not to match the new plants he’s allowed you to fill up his home but because they shroud the panels more than the cream ones had. you tell yourself that nobody knows that johnny can sing; that he can cook a mean tomahawk; that he likes reading; that his wrists were hurting so he’s currently scheduled for a surgery; that he’s soft to you.

the women don’t know this johnny, you tell yourself, nails clawing at the hems of your chest. they don’t know him the way i do.

it’s a pathetic whisper. it’s so laughable. so juvenile.

they’re right. they’re right.

(you’re just a—)

“i don’t see you anymore,” johnny murmured one morning, when things have gone quiet again, a cup of coffee sitting on the counter while he watches you throw orange peels into the garburator.

he just got back from a work trip in aberdeen, his exhaustion loud on his face. his hair is overgrown, the bottom ends of his mohawk curling along his nape. he was there for over three weeks, skirting almost close to a month — the longest he’s ever been away — and you had tried so hard not to message. not to drop casual check-ins because you’re sure no tenant ever does that to their landlord, but johnny had remained just as friendly; asking things like if you wanted another potted plant, a monstera or a dragon tree, or if you still had that swiss chocolate he brought home as a gift, or—

the list of his questions grew, but you’ve given him clipped replies, not knowing how to act right anymore since your quiet realization. even the “thing” that you thought you shared with him had fizzled at the drop of the women coming-and-leaving, and you are left to pick up the pieces.

it’s not like you’re broken or ruined or angry. god, no you aren’t.

but you feel unsteady, like now that you know that you liked him more than he liked you, you forgot how to breathe. how to live without that looming burden because your affection is nothing but a burden.

what will johnny do if he finds out? you can’t afford a new place to move into, not when you’re so close to graduating, the finish line just about to graze your very fingertips with how near it is. money is still tight, and johnny has already spoiled you rotten. has shown you how it is to live a comfortable life. and if he learns of your feelings, you would lose this. more than anything, you would lose him.

so you detached yourself from the noose, curling into yourself and using his work trip as a way to move on.

jesus — move on, huh? like there was a ‘you and johnny’ to even move on from. like there was anything there to read. like there was anything there to pull away from; twitching fingers drawing back into the spaces of your ribs, tucking yourself away from his warmth.

“i’ve been so busy, john,” you muttered, just as tired.

“yeah?” he said, still light. still jovial. “let me cook something nice for ye, huh? reward yer hard work and all.”

“i can’t.” you swallowed down the prickle lodged in your throat, eyes ducking away to avoid seeing his. “i’ve got a meeting with the club.”

(you missed the way johnny’s smile dipped.)

“oh,” he said.

you shrugged, internally wincing at your weak attempt at being normal, before gathering your thermos and your messily-wrapped sandwich. johnny was still standing by the counters when you turned around from the sink, his bulk so close to yours in ages. it had been so long since you could just reach over and feel his warmth; feel the soft pudge of what once were hardened muscles.

he’s looking at you with such sad eyes that it’s jarring to truly see because he’s looking at you like—

like he’s losing you.

“i’m gonna…” you trailed off, not really knowing how to end this truly awkward interaction.

“yeah, f’course,” he croaked out. “take care of yerself huh, lass?”

“thanks.” the smile on your face felt more like a grimace. “see you.”

he said nothing more after that, his eyes still searching; still furrowed like something’s changed and something’s happening, and it made your stomach drop because please. please don’t let him notice.

but johnny just watched as you went, his coffee all forgotten.

(something bloomed in the soft press of your heart, flickering like a young ember. you’ve never realized how longing could feel like your mouth is stuffed with cotton.)

johnny hasn't picked up since his return from aberdeen.

they’re getting a new firm so the shuffling has been brutal, leaving johnny to clamber out at five in the morning before coming back home when it’s pushing 11pm. the scruff on his face is becoming more unkempt, salt and pepper becoming more intense, but even then, he’s never looked more ruggedly beautiful as he is now.

it’s like he’s aged years and you shouldn’t be reacting so strongly to the change, but looking at johnny now makes you ache in a different way — core throbbing, throat parched and eyes stinging as you watch him. you’re so drawn to his gravitational pull, unable to detangle yourself now that it feels like he’s more back in your life than he ever was.

and you know it’ll end up hurting you. that you’ll go back to isolating yourself at the drop of a new girl in the house, the smell of her chanel or bvlgari perfume filling up the crevices that you’ve dutifully dusted every saturday morning while johnny’s out for a run. he’s made having casual lovers a cycle, one that you cannot blame him for because johnny doesn’t like you back.

but johnny’s been so attentive to you these days. he’s been a hovering presence even when he looks like he’s one blown wind away from passing out in his exhaustion, his warm hand always on the small of your back as he walks you to the door before chirping a hearty, “kick ass, bon!”

he’s back to fixing up food for you, like that blip in your schedule got him all creative because now, it’s not even just dinner. you’ve got breakfast waiting for you in the microwave, and packed lunch already in your bag, carefully tucked beside the manila folders and plastic envelopes for your capstone. it’s like he’s making up for something which is dumb and wrong because now, you’re all swooping stomach and prickling lungs.

“yummy?” johnny asked, catching you wriggling in excitement at the flavour bursting into your tongue.

your cheeks tingled, feverish, before giving him a shy nod.

he huffed, something so achingly fond, and rested his chin atop his crossed arms. you didn’t know what to focus on — the scruff on his face or the hard lines of webbing veins spilling from beneath his folded sleeves. then, he crooned, “good. that’s good.”

you ran upstairs to your room, throwing an excuse about finishing up your paper, before locking the door, and feeding your cunt two fingers to satiate the burn. the stretch was delicious, raw and sweet, and you humped your wrist, trying to douse the flames burning you up.

you thought of johnny, of the way he looked and how much nicer he’s been; of johnny and the way he was so kind to you, so caring like you’re up in his priority list again, overtaking his busy schedule and the firm restructuring, and his needs.

your orgasm felt like a ripping of reality, your mind splintering at the edges as you’re stretched thin. it felt like you’ve been pulled taut, then released with a resounding snap. it felt euphoric, like the explosion of something intoxicating. something wickedly addicting.

you knew that this could never be unmade. your affections had grown their tendrils, curling past the quiet admiration and spiralling into something unforgiving. into something greater than yourself.

“fuck,” you had rasped out, eyes prickling with tears as shame rushed into your chest. “fuck.”

you didn’t need this. you didn’t need any of this.

but it becomes a cycle — wash, rinse, repeat.

johnny continues to go unshaven; continues to pour his attention to you. and you soak it up, needy and soft, unable to turn away with your tail tucked between your legs. you fall back to the ease of how it had been, hip bumping his, morning coffee shared in the silence, dinner a filling affair once more. all that’s changed are the lingering looks, the resonating touches.

how johnny’s wide hand falls to the small of your back more often; how his fingers just slots against yours every time he passes you your cup; how his eyes rove over your face, always searching for something you dare not hope for.

the last time he flicked his eyes down to watch the way your tongue lapped at your lips, swiping away at the extra cream, johnny’s pupils had constricted before a quiet groan rumbled from his throat. your thighs had quickly clenched close as heat exploded in the pit of your belly, spreading like wildfire through your veins. the pressure on your nub made you hiccup, like a whine dragging itself from your trachea, and johnny had snapped his eyes back to yours so quickly, it made you heady.

“bon–”

“i have to go,” you murmured, clamouring to shaky legs.

you fucked yourself to a deafening point once more, ears ringing as you squirted, the gush of your slick pushing past your fingers. you had to gnash your pillow cover to muffle the moan rumbling from the base of your throat, trying desperately to be good. to not be heard. to be better.

but johnny’s burning gaze on your lips was seared into your memory, blazing on top of everything, and you imagined—

god, you imagined.

the way he’ll take you — beard rough on your chin, thicker fingers spreading you wider, reaching deeper, before finally filling you up with all of him, bullying the whole length of his cock until he bottoms out.

you pressed on your stomach, dizzy, thinking about how johnny would hit that far. you know he would. the women he’s slept with have told you, anyway, in passing, describing how he was in bed with dreamy sighs like they weren’t still reeking of sex and johnny’s aftershave.

(you still wonder why so many of them were mean, their noses tipped up every time they saw you. they were the ones that johnny chose, the ones who were fortunate enough to have been his lover, so you wonder why they still sought you out like you were competition.)

“johnnyyyy!” you moaned, loud and long, your fingers prodding at your walls, and you knew that you’d regret the wrangled cry later, but you didn’t care then, too busy swimming in the aftermath of your orgasm.

but johnny heard it anyway.

he told you that he had heard you.

it happened so quickly — one moment you were bent over the espresso machine, fiddling with the levers with bleary-eyed attempts, then the next thing you knew was that johnny was crowding you, trapping you between the warm bulk of his body and the counter, his eyes furrowed so deeply which made the lines on his forehead run much deeper.

“whu’?” you asked, blinking tiredly at him.

johnny just did this shaky breath that rattled his whole body, like he was propped up by a couple of sticks instead of his whole mass. the mood shifted with that weak inhale though, and you turned to fully face him, ignoring the beeping machine because johnny was still looking at you with those eyes.

the ones that made you feel seen, read, and laid bare before him. like he could weave his eyes past the fabrics of your shirt to peek into the very jagged shards of your heart and see the cross that you’ve been carrying. like he knew things about you that he shouldn’t.

“johnny?” you prodded again, finding his silence alarming.

“yer too young for me, m’eudail,” johnny finally rumbled out, voice thick and deep.

and it’s—

what.

your mind was pressing into your skull, trying desperately to link your synapses together; for the fog to clear and for your coherence to rise above the pull of drowsiness, but johnny was faster. like now that he’s said the first words, the rest just follow, unstoppable in their force and in their meaning.

“i told myself i couldn’t,” he murmured, still breathing shakily; gaze still too fragile. “that yer lookin’ for nothin’ like me, and that yer just tryin’ to get out there with yer career.”

he lifted a hand, fingers twitching, before balling it back down to a fist.

“told myself i’ve gotta let go. found a way to cope and shit.”

johnny took another ragged breath in, and it startled you into gulping one of your own — you didn’t even realize that you’ve held your breath as he spoke to you, your chest clenching tightly as your mind began to link the passageways together, filling you in on what he wasn’t really saying.

“but carin’ f’you was so easy. christ, it was even delightful, hen.” he chuckled, something that was somewhat raw and pained.

you licked at your lips, blinking wide eyes open. johnny tracked the movement, his nose flaring like you’ve done something more than a subconscious thing, his shoulders going taut.

“i like doing all sorta things for you. liked seeing y’eat what i cooked; liked seeing y’use what i got f’you. liked watching y’come home to me. to me.”

a soft sound echoed between the two of you, and it took you an embarrassingly long time to realize that it was a breathless whimper that petered out from the base of your throat. you didn’t even realize that you’ve curled into yourself, almost like you’re trying your best to shrink before johnny, and johnny crooned.

callused palm cupped the round of your cheek, his thumb swiping just underneath your eye. “told myself yer too young; that surely yer looking for someone closer to yer age, but bon, i heard y’last night.”

you startled in his hold, a quiet gasp piercing through the heat. johnny’s lips danced with mirth.

“s’right. heard a loud thump against the wall and ran upstairs, all worried, but guess my surprise, yes? y’were moanin’ my name so loudly, it’s like y’left yer door open.”

“johnny, i–”

“tell me,” he said, moving closer, his chest pressing against yours. “tell me t’stop, bon, an’ i will. but y’ve got to tell me. y’ve got to push me away.”

you looked at him, your eyes trembling at what he was laying out thickly, and your throat going parched at the blanketing desire rippling from him. there were so many things you wanted to ask, but his breath was tickling the bridge of your nose, dancing so close to the bow of your lips, and your heart ached.

desire coursed through you in waves, dribbling from the cup, and you lurched forward, chasing after his lips.

johnny melted into you. his hesitant touch turned greedier, more possessive, mapping your body and pulling you closer into him. his mouth devoured your own, gulping down the pleased little sighs and keens spilling from your lips. he kissed like a man starved, but you weren’t any softer; all nippy and desperate, fingers digging into his hair and fisting at the thin strands.

it was feverish, almost to a boiling point, and you needed more.

god, you needed more.

“johnny,” you mewled when he pulled away just enough to slide his damp lips along the cut of your jaw. “johnny, need you.”

“christ,” johnny sounded so wrecked, his voice rumbling deeply from where his lips were suckling on the soft curve of your neck. “i’ve been dreaming of this, mo luaidh. i knew i shouldn’t but yer so sweet to me and i– i wanted.” he said that word like it was dirty; like he’d been fighting tooth-and-nail to suppress it.

it made you tremble to hear how johnny desired you just as much. he had always felt unobtainable; always danced too far from your grasp and was always bigger than what you knew you could handle — his lovers had always looked divinely; pretty, yes, but fierce in their own right like they knew how to live without johnny; and you know they could, because they didn’t need johnny the way you do. they didn’t look at johnny like you do, like he hung the stars with those thick and aged hands of his.

but as you stood there, feeling every word punctured onto your skin, you couldn’t help but begin to cry, the tears springing from your eyes to slip down your cheeks. johnny rubbed your back, soothing and gentle.

“i wanted t’take you – make y’all mine,” he whispered.

you hiccuped, shaky from the weight of your hunger, and nuzzled close. your hands fell from fisting his hair so you could claw at the sharp corners of his shoulder blades, feeling the muscles there rippling, all taut when he bent forward and kissed you.

“please,” you began, feeling your mind thinning because you wanted more. more. more. more. “i can be– johnny, s’always been you. nobody else but you.”

you tugged him away, cupping his jaw and forcing him to look at you. and god, johnny looked so devastatingly beautiful, his eyes all furrowed and his cheeks all flushed, and his lips spit-sheened.

“fuck me,” you whispered, tired of dancing around.

he groaned, something that sounded so pained, before he was tugging you with him, up the stairs and skirting past your room and into his.

you’ve never been in johnny’s room before, just as he had never been in yours since you moved in, and until now you still don’t know what you had been expecting upon walking in, but the smell of johnny wafting through was almost gut-punching. he smelled so close, like he was everywhere — surrounding you from the ground-up, dousing every pore with him until even your mouth felt full.

and johnny, he smelt like home.

there were no more words uttered as he stripped you off your pyjamas, sure fingers making their way down the buttons, unlatching them from the hemmed slits. you watched with heavy eyes, blinking slowly like everything had been wrung out of you, leaving you pliant and soft. johnny hummed, appreciative, and mapped kisses from your heaving chest, teeth nipping at the fat, before moving on, sprinkling every expanse of your skin with such reverence.

your hands were balled to your chest when he reached the jut of your belly, his chin hovering just above your crotch. johnny flicked up his darkened eyes at you, asking silently.

you gave him a nod, not trusting your own voice too.

johnny’s eyes had turned into slits, pleased, and hefted himself up just enough to be able to fit his hands on your hips and tugged your pants down. you shivered, the warmth in his room not enough to suppress the winter chill, and it made you buck into him. johnny comforted you with a quiet shh, rubbing his palm on the pudge of your thigh in soothing circles.

you don’t know why that touch was what did it for you, but soft sobs finally spilled from your mouth, scrunching up the desire into something undeniably frail. johnny didn’t startle though, like he knew that you had been wounding up to this tipping point, and instead continued to touch you tenderly, almost like if he could, he would cradle you close.

“i love you,” you said, sniffling, because that was the crux of your vulnerability, right?

you love him. god, you love him.

you’ve loved him since the day he sat you down for dinner and told you that you’ve got nothing to worry about, not anymore and not with him around. you’ve loved him since the day he flipped the den so you can have your own space for work; don’t mind the fact that he didn’t know if you were going to even stay, just that he insisted that you deserved that room either way. you’ve loved him since that swiss chocolate, since that cup of coffee, since he’s begun filling your painfully lonely days with his care.

you’ve loved him since and now—

“oh, mo graidh,” johnny breathed out. “i love you too.” he kissed your thigh, scruff ticklish. “gu siorraidh is gu brath.”

you wanted to ask what that meant but johnny was already moving, sitting back up to strip out of his own shirt. you trailed your eyes down his body, capturing your trembling lips between your teeth at how breathtaking he was — soft with fat but still heavy with muscles, fuzzy with hair with the smattering pooling just underneath his belly button before trailing down to where they were hidden underneath his pants.

you twitched before finally braving enough to reach out and brush your knuckle over the indents of his softened abs. johnny hummed, something that curled with appreciation, before covering your hand with his and holding it there.

“all of me s’yers, hen,” he said with such finality that you felt it settle deep within the marrows of your bones.

you nodded, emotionally spent and johnny lilted something else in scottish, so soft that it was almost a croon. you let him manhandle you — pushing your hips up so he could slot a pillow under for your back; you were so malleable to his touch as he took over, bending once again for a kiss while his fingers danced past the laces of your panties and into the damp heat of your pussy.

you moaned, eyelashes fluttering when he pressed one in, so careful and slow, but you were so wet that it slid in with no resistance, gobbling it up knuckle-deep. johnny had groaned like he could feel your rising euphoria, before nosing along your temple as he wiggled the finger around, stroking at your walls. you wondered if he was going to tease but then he was pulling it out, only to plunge two in the next thrust, curling and stretching, and oh—

oh, ssss’good.

you don’t even remember how long he’d been spearing you with his thicker fingers, rough and long and reaching far, far deeper than you could with your own, but you laid there, sobbing, feeling your slick slip out, pooling, making a mess of your thighs and his sheets. johnny had moved from suckling on your neck to taking a nipple in his mouth, teeth softly gnashing at the bud. you felt like you were on fire, burning from your core, aching for a release.

“cum f’me, m’eudail,” johnny groaned, breathless himself, his cock poking underneath his boxers, the fabric all wet from where his tip was, leaking pearled pre-. “let me see you.”

“johnny, i’m gonna– i’m–!” you squealed, legs jumping, squeezing johnny’s sides as you jolted, hips twitching at the bloating ecstasy. johnny just pushed down on your thigh, not letting up with the pace of his fingers. he was fucking you so hard that his hand’s slapping against your skin, his palm grinding down on your clit just right, and the pleasure sizzled into something biting. into something that was almost painful.

it was catastrophic, pulling you into two directions. johnny’s everywhere — his scent in your lungs, his fingers deep in your pussy, his mouth hot and wet on your tits, and like this, like this, you felt yourself breaking.

ripping—

then, your orgasm was punched out of you.

your senses had gone awry — throat throbbing as you cried out, your eyes going blind as they rolled into your skull at the final curl of johnny’s fingers. white noise filled your ears, and it was like you were submerged underneath water, wading through the crashing tides of your climax.

you came back to johnny peppering your face with soft kisses, whispering something you couldn’t decipher past the croon of your name and something like you did good and so beautiful. he’d already pulled his fingers out, and used both arms to cradle you close. you felt so empty — god, that wasn’t even his cock, yet — but your body thrummed pleasantly, almost like the itch was finally scratched.

“johnny?” you puffed out, voice all scratchy and weak.

“i’m here, bon. i’m here.”

you hummed, curling into his chest, head pillowed by his arm. you wanted to ask what about his own euphoria, but johnny seemed so content just laying there with you, not really desperate or needy, so you let it go, losing the battle against your drowsiness before finally slipping into a quiet sleep.

johnny’s there for your graduation, carrying a big bouquet of only eden roses. you didn’t even know that those particular ones were expensive until someone from the graduation party oohed and aahed to their friend.

your cheeks burned when their friend chirped, “well someone’s clearly loved.”

you know that what they said would have had johnny agreeing loudly if he was allowed in the lineup because he is never one to be shy about what he feels; or not anymore, anyway. he loves so fully and openly that you still wonder why it took the two of you so long to get together, but the days since then had just been kind and filling that you have long forgotten how it was to not be with him.

they’re going to call your name soon, and your stomach swoops, excitement and anxiety mixing in a dizzying tandem.

you’re graduating with a bachelor’s degree in psychology and a diploma in early childhood education, and this is not where you thought you would be when you first started university, but it’s the happiest you have ever been. and sure much of your poli-sci courses were scrapped when you changed majors, and that’s also a lot of money wasted, but you have three job opportunities lined up already and it’s like the seismic shift in your life had finally corrected itself.

(your mom said she’s sorry that she and your pa couldn’t come, but you’ve stopped longing for their acceptance and told her it was fine.

there’s a date saved in your calendar, though, for a brunch with her and that was enough.)

you ducked into johnny’s arms when the graduation ceremony ended, careful of the bouquet he’s holding.

“congratulations, bonnie,” he says, a hearty laugh rumbling from his chest. “christ, i’m so, so proud of you.”

you never pegged yourself for a crybaby, but tears begin to pool in the corners of your eyes at the weight of his words.

“thank you,” you reply, soft and raw, and honest.

johnny pulls you in, his lips warm as they’re pressed on your forehead.

and this, just like this, you know things will only get better from here on out.

#suns #johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish #soap x reader #cod x reader #f!reader #read tags!!

985 notes · View notes

marcsburnerphone · 10 months ago

Text

And they were roommates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: that captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: some awkward moments but nothing crazy.

part 1 - Part two!!! - part 3 - part 4

—————-

You indeed did not see John price the next morning but what you did see was a handwritten note stuck to the fridge beneath a magnet.

“Good morning, as I mentioned my job is demanding. I’m not sure how long I'll be gone for but I can estimate at least a month. If you need me, my phone number is below along with my check for this month's rent and the next. - John price”

You reach for the envelope that is attached behind the note and pull it open and what the fuck. You knew he had to have money but in what world would someone pay this much rent for a house with a roommate? You immediately grab your own checkbook and write him for the amount that’s overpaid, making a mental note to make sure you give it to him.

————

Weeks pass slowly and life goes on as it did before. The only difference is you're no longer struggling to make ends meet. So to celebrate your success you order that 6 foot canvas you’d been wanting for ages and a new oil paint.

When you got the notification that it had arrived, thank god for two day shipping, you squealed and ran to grab it before the mailman even walked away. He offered to help you as he watched you give it a bear hug and waddle it through your door yelling out a meek ‘no Thankyou’. You dragged it down the hallway and into the sunroom resting it up against the wall. Ripping the clear plastic film off of new canvases comes in third place to the best things in life.

Sitting in the sun that evening you stroke deep blue oil paints that try their best to replicate ocean waters, and white specks that wish they could induce the same feelings stars do.

You’ve been at this same painting for 3 weeks, coming home and straight to it. Now that it’s finally done it sits sunbathing till it dries. You still visit it and admire its larger than life beauty.

John’s been gone for 1 month and 3 weeks now and in that time some problems have arisen, 1. The faucet in the kitchen leaks and below it the pipe also leaks and the only plumber that’s willing to drive out to your house and inspect it says he won’t be available for another week which means the water bill will sky rocketing till then. And 2. you have no idea where the huge painting will go.

You walk around wondering where to place it. You thought maybe the living room, or even in your room but after testing both those places it still didn’t look right. You can only think of one other place which is the hallway to John’s room. Of course that spot is perfect, maybe he wouldn’t notice since he only spent one night here. You grabbed the drill and got to work mounting it immediately. Once all was said and done you gave it a once over, smiled, snapped a picture of it to send to your sister and walked away.

———

John arrived back exactly at the two month mark early in the AM. He opened the house door as quietly as possible and removed his boots by the door to avoid the creaking wood of the floor and continued sluggishly hauling his bag to his room. Being the man he is, he notices everything, those watchful eyes of his never miss a detail so he does indeed notice and take a second to admire the newly found painting hung in front of his bedroom door before unlocking it to set his stuff down.

After a much needed and appreciated shower he reads the clock at 7AM thinking he can sleep for a little, that is of course until he hears a knock at the door. Making his way down the hall he peeps through the window and sees a handyman?

“Good morning sir, how can I help you?” He says opening the door.

“Good morning, your wife called for a leaking pipe, told her I’d come by sometime today.” He looks down the hall towards your room and confirms the fact that you're definitely still very well asleep.

“My wife? Oh yes my wife, that lady I could’ve sworn I told her to cancel this appointment we actually got it all sorted out.” He lies like it's second nature.

“I actually charge a late cancellation fee that must be paid upfront.” He inquires slightly annoyed.

“How much?” John replies feeling sorry for this man that drove out here and is now being sent away.

“100$ flat.” John shuts the door and quickly fetches his wallet from the pocket of his cargo pants and returns with two bills one for the inconvenience and sends the man on his way.

Sleep can wait.

—————

You wake up to the sound of clanking in the kitchen and as a woman that technically lives alone in the middle of the forest you're terrified.

Grabbing the bat beside your bed still fully dressed in the least threatening attire, you tiptoe to the source of the noise and breathe out the strongest sigh of relief ever known to man.

“Jesus Christ John you scared me, what’re you doing?” You loudly admit startling him in return.

“Fixing this pipe that you called an overpriced handyman for.” You stare at him subconsciously admiring the way he looks, slightly disheveled, face screwed in concentration and strong hands twisting the wrench in his hand and let’s not mention the rise of his shirt.

“You okay?” He says removing himself from under the sink leaning back on his knees to stare up at you.

“Yeah, yes I’m so sorry, um so where did the handy man go?” He stands with a grunt and leans his back against the counter.

“On his merry way.” He replies, turning around to turn the faucet on checking if it leaks, then off to see if it still drips and as he expects, it does neither.

“How much do I owe you for the late cancellation fee?” That man has handled your plumbing issues before and you’ve definitely canceled late more than once.

“Technically you didn’t cancel on him, I did so don’t worry.” He says picking his tools up off the ground placing them messily into the tool box.

“Well Thank You.” You say awkwardly.

“Of course.” He smiles making the dimples beneath his beard awfully noticeable.

“Oh and by the way your rent is only two thousand five hundred a month.” You say walking to the kitchen drawer beside him and pulling out a check that’s already filled out and handing it to him.

“Utilities included?” He asks, grabbing the check written out for three thousand and also taking in notice that same scent that clung to those sheets you made his bed with weeks ago as you sweep by.

“Yeah I don’t mind paying more cause I mean look around, this place has my style written all over it which makes it feel more like mine than yours.” He looks baffled at your reasoning.

“I actually like the decorations, not sure I’d change a thing about it.” You laugh at what has to be a lie.

“I doubt it.” You chuckle and slightly blush at his kindness.

“No I'm serious, I especially love that painting in the hallway, where’d you get it?” You seem surprised at the mention of it and even more flattered at the compliment.

“I actually painted it.” He gives you a surprised look.

“See you’re even hand painting the art, please I can afford much more than twenty five hundred.” You act like you're considering it for a moment.

“As much as I’d appreciate it, I'm already grateful for what you pay.” You say truthfully.

“Also, welcome home.” You quip before turning around walking back towards your room to get ready for the day

—————

John’s been home for nearly two weeks now and he’s slightly growing on you and you on him. You co-exist in harmony most times. That doesn’t mean the two of you still don’t clash from time to time.

“Good morning.” He says scrambling eggs in a pan as you walk into the kitchen reaching in the cabinet for a coffee mug.

“Morning to you too.” You say groggily, setting your feet flat on the ground and placing the cup on the counter, reaching for the pot to pour some coffee.

“If I can just- oh I’m so sorry.” He says accidentally bumping into you making the coffee spill on the counter.

“Oh no don’t worry about it, I can just clean it.” You say turning around quickly to go grab paper towels and end up accidentally running into his chest.

He grabs your shoulders to hold you in place and let your brain catch up with the speed of events.

“We will learn to both be in the kitchen together someday.” You affirm with a laugh that makes you feel alive.

“Hey the first week this happened almost everyday. If anything this is a huge improvement.” He jokingly abides.

“True.” You say as he turns around handing you the kitchen towel to clean it up. He watches you with amused eyes and a smile that still hasn’t left either of your faces and for a second something alights in John something that scares him so bad he doesn’t hear a thing you’re saying.

“John, I said did you sleep well?” You speak a bit louder, snapping him out of it.

“Yeah darling sorry I’m just going to take this to my office. I've got some work to cover.” He says hurriedly plating his food and scurrying off.

“Okay well I’ll be heading to work soon.” He doesn’t even let you finish before closing the door leaving you to stand there a little stumped.

“So I’ll assume he didn’t sleep well.” You say to yourself before pouring another cup and heading to your room to get changed.

——————

Comments and reposts are appreciated <3

@beebeechaos

@ttsbaby01

@arminarlertssword

@quakeroaksguy

@waves-against-a-cliff

@depressed-but-make-it-cute

#captain price x female reader #john price #angst #barry sloane #captain john price #john price x reader #task force 141 #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #cod modern warfare #cod mwii #cod x reader

2K notes · View notes

adancingalien · 4 months ago

Text

𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

Benjicot/Davos Blackwood x bracken!reader

summary: after learning of your impending betrothal to another, you and Benji make a plan to stop it

warning: smut 18+ no use of y/n this fic revolves around pregnancy and has some light breeding kinks towards the end. the reader in this is able to get pregnant and is described as a woman.

word count: 3.9k

note: its finally here! i've really enjoyed writing this fic, its been a while since written one and i've never written smut so if its not the best sorry lol. thank you for everyone's support! i hope you guys like it <3 next time I post it will be on this account @dancingaliensfics so if you like this follow that account. also a couple people asked me to tag them so here you go x @alifeinspiredd @gotranting

It's Early in the morning when your father gives you the news. The sun had risen only an hour prior, the days growing short as winter approached, and your mother sat across from you.

Marriage.

You spend some time considering the thought whilst eating your porridge. In any other case, it would have been good news. The list your father had created so far was filled with well-suited men. You recognised some, two Bracken cousins you knew well, a Mallister boy you’d met at a tourney. They were all reasonable ages, only one was older than thirty and he seemed to be an afterthought. Your father assured you that he'd consider your opinion in his choice.

Truthly you were lucky, if it was a year earlier you'd be excited. But the one name you wanted, the only man you would ever consider marrying, wasn't on the list and never would be.

Benjicot Blackwood.

Heir to Raventree Hall, the seat of your enemy house, the man who'd captured your heart 10 moons ago.

And so you sit in silence, eyes distant, as your father speaks to you of balls and meetings and gifts. Your mother watches you quietly, although what goes through her mind you cannot say. Eventually, the conversation fades to noise as you watch the last streaks of pink fade from the sky.

You meet with Benjicot in the same spot you always do. A field of clover and wildflowers, sheltered from the gaze of Stone Hedge by a small patch of woodland. He brings you a bouquet of dandelions, dittander and hedge bindweed he picked himself along the path. Every time you meet he brings you one and each time he hands it to you with that grin before hiding his face in your neck. You love it, and after all this time you still feel your heart flutter at the sight, no matter how torn and pathetic the blooms themselves usually are.

Gods, you love him. And you're certain you'll never love anyone else the same. Still, you hope he hasn't found the bindweed from near your gardens, it's beautiful but so quickly consumes all other plants.

He flops onto the grass and then beckons for you to do the same. Benji wraps his arms around your side and you lean your head on his chest as he begins to tell you about some skirmish at the hedge stones.

“Those Brackens think they can do whatever they please whenever they choose. You’d think they'd have learnt their lesson after the beating we gave them last time.”

As he speaks you pluck at blades of grass beside you, tearing the seeds from the stem. He often forgets your heritage, as you do his, and the reminder makes you anxious.

“Still,” you mutter, “I wish you wouldn't rush so quickly into battle.”

Benji turns his head to look down at you and you feel his breath on your face. He pauses for a few moments, watching you closely before responding.

“You needn't worry, dove, I can hold my own, especially against some Bracken bastards.” His words are harsh and said with a grin but you can feel the sentiment behind them. Still, his answer doesn't satisfy you.

“You're not the only person I stand to lose in a battle.”

The two of you tend to speak little of the different sides you sit on, choosing instead to focus on your shared qualities. But since your father's announcement that morning, you find your heritage is all you can think of.

His hands tighten on your side and he begins to shift in the way he often does when unsettled. “Tell your bracken brethren to stay on their side of the lines then.”

“Yes because it is such a simple thing, to announce our ties to my whole family!” You turn from him with a huff pulling hard on the piece of grass in your grasp. You regret your words immediately but find yourself unwilling to apologise.

Benji pulls his brows tight, running his fingers over the hem of your skirt. He looks like a scolded dog, his face sullen and eyes moving quickly.

“I’m sorry.” He looks at you softly for a moment. “Will you tell me what's bothering you love? You've been down all day.”

You pause for a while, having pulled away all the grass in your little patch, leaving your fingernails stained green.

“My father gave me news.” You lift your head to look at Benji, his eyes watching you closely. “He's finding me a husband.”

“No.” The response comes quickly and with strong conviction.

Baffled by his response, your brows furrow. “What do you mean no?”

“I simply won't let it happen. You're mine and I'm yours and we were destined to be together, I know it. You will not be with anyone else.”

You pull a pained face, turning away from him. How can he say that with such certainty? That he simply won't let your father marry you off as though it's such a simple thing. It's both endearing and irritating.

“It's not so simple you know.” You look out at the setting sun as you speak, “I've been trying to think of ways to avoid it but truthfully, I have nothing to complain about. What can I say to stop it? I've spent so long thinking of options but nothing seems right.”

Benji takes hold of your hands, gazing at you with such intensity it catches you off guard.

“We'll run away together, you and me, right now.”

Your eyes widen and you stumble on your thoughts. What an idea. It's a pleasant thought really and part of you is compelled to accept, to leap up and run away with Benji in that moment. But it is not this part of you that speaks.

“What- Benji- I cannot, we cannot! Where would we even go.”

“Essos, the free cities, the North, gods I'd go to the Iron Islands if it meant I could marry you. Anywhere in the world where the names bracken and blackwood mean nothing.” your heart skips at the thought, that Benjicot Blackwood would abandon his title and land and family to be with you. Travel to an unknown land and begin again. It's a feeling that quickly spreads through your body leaving you warm and filled with a joy so strong it again compels you to accept and leave in that moment.

You run your fingers over his knuckles, feeling the healed cuts and scrapes that cover them. You consider your own family, of your mother, sat at her window, waiting for you to return home. Your father, sending out his men to fruitlessly search across all of Westeros for his beloved daughter.

“I can't Benji.”

“Then we'll go in a few days instead, you can pack your things, and I'll think of a plan of where to go-”

“No Benji.” you look into his eyes. You see in them a future and a path you cannot take at this moment. “I couldn't do that to my family, couldn't leave them forever and you couldn't either. It would break your mother's heart.”

Your words sour his mood and he visibly shrinks. You take his hands fully in your own and reach over to kiss him softly on the cheek. You can feel slight stubble and realise he must have rushed out after receiving your letter. How you love this man.

It isn’t long before you see a new thought arrive in his mind and it's clear he does no further thinking before sharing it.

“I'll just take you then!”

Truthly, your expectations were not high but you still find yourself floored by the stupidity of his ‘plan’.

“What.” You can simply find no other words.

Benji turns to face you fully, squeezing your hands tightly. He has a crazed look on his face and you wonder if this is what your Bracken brethren see on the battlefield.

“Listen, I’ll simply take you with me to Raventree Hall and we will wed there.” He must notice your unimpressed look as he quickly continues. “That way you don't have to go too far and your family will know you're safe. Sure it'll take some time for those Bracken curs to accept it but eventually they'll have to and then you can see them when you please.”

“Safe? Benji, you've come up with some terrible ideas but this is a new level. It would be war! You really believe that my father, that any bracken would simply accept a blackwood taking their daughter in the night?”

“Then war it would be. I'd kill a thousand men to keep you.”

“A thousand of my men, my blood! Yes, what a beautiful honeymoon it would be, setting the funeral piers of my family.”

He falls silent at this and looks down at his hands. You can see him thinking but he has the sense to keep his thoughts to himself. After a few minutes, you sigh and take his hands back in yours, having dropped them at some point during your rant. Leaning over, you capture his lips in your own for just a moment and when you pull away he follows after you.

“Just… leave it to me. I shall think of a plan for us. We can keep yours as a last resort, yes?”

He brightens at this, happy to trust in your judgement. He agrees quickly before closing the small space between you.

It's a week later when you send a raven summoning Benji. As a child, you had discovered passages within Stone Hedge which had long been forgotten and often used them to pass in and out of the castle. Now you and Benji used them to visit each other in secret. It's a few days before he is able to make his way to Stone Hedge, having been corralled by his father into some dull political nonsense you couldn't care less about. By the time he makes it to you, slipping into your chambers using the passage hidden behind large tapestries, you feel truly desperate for him.

It's overwhelming really, how much you love him. Your entire body aches for him, your mind thinks of him at all times. The thought of marrying another leaves you ill and to imagine laying with a man that isn't Benji is truly mad. He knows you in ways no other has, and, if you get your way, never will. So really it's not a surprise that upon seeing you waste no time in pressing yourself to him. As your lips meet you can feel all the stress of the past days leave your mind and you quickly forget what it was you summoned him for. It seems Benji has found himself in a similar position to you as his hands begin to explore your body through your evening gown. His soft touch turns rough as you run your fingers through the coarse strands of his hair.

You pull away, moving toward to settee. He trails after, lounging next to you with his around your shoulders, fingers toying with your hair.

“I’ve had much time to think,” you say hands resting on your lap. “And I believe I've thought of a solution. It’s mad truly, but it is the best chance we have. I am certain I want it but if you do not you must say and that will be final. It is not a decision to take lightly.”

At your serious tone, Benji straightens and looks at you fully. You are nervous, such a proposal is hardly made easily and yet you feel certain in your bones that he will accept. You know he loves you, there is no doubt about it. You only wonder if he is truly ready for a life together.

“I would do anything to be with you, dove. Tell me and it'll be done.”

You sigh at his words, both from frustration and adoration.

“Do not say such things before you hear the proposal.”

“Then tell me it so that I may say them with informed certainty.”

You look him in the eyes then, struggling to find a way to say what you mean.

“I would have your child.”

Benji pauses at this, and you can see confusion in his eyes before he speaks.

“Yes. when we wed we shall have many children, as many as you wish.”

“No Benji,” you squeeze his hands tightly and push yourself to speak. “My father will never choose you as my husband so we must give him no choice. If I was with child, with your child, he would have to accept a marriage or risk shame upon myself and our house. I know my father well and I am sure he would choose my happiness over tradition.”

At this, Benjicot stops and his face falls blank. It's as if his mind is —- and you wait patiently for his response.

“It is…” he stops and then restarts “I would love nothing more than to have a child with you. It is something I have dreamt of and I truly believe myself ready for such responsibility. I do not doubt the longevity of my love for you. So please do not think it is commitment with gives me pause. It is just…” he begins to play with your fingers, nervous energy flowing through him. He stands quickly, releasing your hands though you are used to his restlessness and simply wait for him to return. He paces in a small circle, running his hand through his hair and then returns to his seat.

“I would not do that to you,” he says finally. You look at him in surprise, his answer seeming nonsensical to you.

“You have done it to me many times.”

“No not that,” he says quickly, covering his face in his hands as he thinks again how to phrase what he means.

“I wouldn't put you through such treatment! As an unwed woman to father a child by you. No, I couldn't dishonour you like that.”

“Dishonour me? Benji, you have dishonoured me more times than I could count. By simply being here in this room you dishonour me. We have laid together, many times. If this was a concern of yours, you should have voiced it long ago.” your words are tinged with amusement.

Benjicot stands again, moving his arms wildly.

“And what of how you would be treated? Not just by your parents but every member of the court, the servants, anyone who knew of it. You would be shamed and shunned by others.”

“You think I care what others say of me?”

“I think you will care when it happens.”

“Do not make assumptions on my behalf. I am my own woman, I can make my own choices. And I do not need you, Benjicot Blackwood, to decide such things for me.”

You pause, breathing deeply in an attempt to remove the heat from your voice. It isn’t your intention to force Benji to do this with you and you fear if you continue to argue your meaning will be lost.

“If your reasons to not go forth are your own, because you do not feel ready or because you do not want to, then that is fine and I will accept it.”

Your attempt to calm the situation backfires miserably and your words light a fire inside of Benji.

“Of course not, didn’t say I would marry you in that field? That I would give up everything to be with you. Do not doubt my love.”

“I do not doubt it, Benji. But if you are willing to give up your titles and home, go through battle and fight hundreds to have me, why can't you trust that I would endure the shame of a pregnancy outside of wedlock for you?”

At last, Benji returns to his spot next to you. He looks into the fire but his gaze is distant.

“I can protect you from danger, from enemies. I can kill any man that threatens you. I can stand with you in fire and pain. But I can’t save you from cruel words and shame. This is… it's something you’ll have to bear alone. And I hate the thought of it.”

At last, you understand his meaning. Benjicot Blackwood is not a man who often loses control. He is fierce and strong and can slay any man who comes in his path.

“I am strong. And I can protect myself, just this once. And you will be stood with, at my side, to give me strength when I fail.”

“I know, I just fear you aren’t ready.”

“I am ready.”

A coy smile spreads across your face.

“Let me convince you.”

At that you kiss him, one hand placed on his cheek and the other on his chest. He quickly reciprocates and you move closer until you can throw one leg over his lap. His hands find your hair, attempting to undo your intricate braids before pulling away in frustration and glaring at the strands. You laugh lightly, moving to remove your pins as he reaches for your neck, leaving a firm bite before his tongue lathes over the area. His ministrations pull a soft moan from your mouth and as he lifts your skirts to run his hand up the soft skin of your thigh, your hair is released.

His other hand quickly finds its way into your hair, fingers weaving into the strands before your head is pulled back allowing better access to your neck. As Benji continues trailing kisses across your neck and chest, you begin to move yourself on his lap, grinding against him as you feel his cock harden beneath his breeches. How you long to feel him inside you, and the thought of him staying even as he reached his peak, seed spilling inside you, has you moving with increased vigour. Benji begins to let out his quiet groans and pants to match your soft moaning and it's not long before he has your behind held firmly in his grip.

His mouth reaches the neckline of your dresses and begins to suck marks onto your skin while you fumble with the fastening of your gown. Once the bodice is undone and the stays are loosened, he pulls them down, taking your breasts into his hands. His mouth quickly latches onto one of your peaks and his tongue swirls around them. He shows you no mercy in his actions, hands pressing so tight they are sure to leave bruises. Benji moves his hand to your core, fingers covering themselves in your wetness before pressing against your clit. They move quickly, circling your bud for some time before travelling towards your hole. His thumb moves to take its place, pressing firmly against you as it rubs. His fingers prod gently at your hole, before one slips inside. He stays like this, easing his finger inside of you until you're ready to take another. His fingers move inside of you for a few minutes, your walls clenching around them as they stroke, before they increase in speed, beginning to curl deep inside of you. Benji continues to assault your chest, relishing in the moans and whines he pulls from your lips.

It isn't long, however, before he pulls away from your chest to speak.

“I need you, my love.” he lifts your chin so that your eyes meet. You lean forward and kiss him, giving your answer through your actions. He removes his fingers from you, wiping them on your dress much to your disgust before standing, holding you with his hands beneath your ass and your legs around his waist.

He moves quickly towards the bed and, though he's strong, you can see him focusing on not dropping you. You take the chance to join your lips to his neck, leaving your marks there. Although you know him to be faithful to you, you can’t stand the thought of any Blackwood whore making a pass at him and the hickeys serve to claim him as yours. Gods, you think, you must stop thinking in such ways, you’ll be a Blackwood yourself soon. The thought leaves you giddy and you grin at his neck. Benji drops you rather unceremoniously onto the bed before staring at you with a bemused look on his face.

“What you grinning about him?”

“Just the thought that I will soon be your wife.”

His grin widens at that and he leans down to capture your lips once again.

“Yes, my wife and I'll be your husband.”

You kiss him again, biting his lip and tugging on it slightly.

“All mine.” your words pull a deep moan from him.

It isn’t long before both of you have stripped completely and you find yourself lying back on the sheets, Benji between your legs. He moves quickly above you, rubbing his cock against your folds, the head catching perfectly on your clit with every stroke. You moan wantonly, fingers reaching up to pull Benji towards your lips by the hair. Your firm grip causes him to groan deeply into your mouth and his movements increase in speed. It isn't long though before you pull away.

“Benji, darling, I need you inside of me please.”

You're expecting him to tease you, and make a joke about your begging and neediness but instead, he lets out a long breath, before reaching down and taking himself in hand. He runs the tip of his cock along your wetness once more before pressing inside of you. Your body accepts him eagerly and it isn't long before he fills you. How could you ever marry another when even your body is moulded perfectly to him? The sounds of your pleasure harmonise as Benji begins to move inside of you. His thrusts are fast and deep as always, his hips snapping against yours with every thrust. You feel your mind slipping as your sounds increase in volume. Your hands roam his whole body. Filthy words spill from your lips.

“Benji please my love- ah- I must have you. Please”

“You have me sweet one, you have me.”

You pull roughly on his hair at his words.

“No I must have all of you, please I need your seed. I want you to cum inside me.”

His hips stutter before his thrusts continue with increased fervour.

“Fill me please Benji, it will feel so good.”

Benji lays his head in the crook of your neck moaning without restraint. You feel yourself reaching your peak quickly and want him to cum with you. You lift your legs and wrap them tightly around his waist, moaning, turning to shrieks.

“I love you so much Benji,” you cry out, fingernails leaving scratches down his back. “I love you and I want your baby, please cum inside me.”

At your words, Benji lets out a choked sound, hips pressing firm against you, and feels the warmth of his release spill inside of you, pulling you to your peak alongside him. Your eyes squeeze shut, but if they hadn’t you would have seen the most delightful look on Benji’s face and he finished inside of you. It takes some time for his cock to stop twitching and even longer for the both of you to come back to the world of the living. Benji begins to lift himself off of you, but you tighten your legs.

“Stay.”

A simple command that he follows without question.

#benjicot blackwood #benjicot blackwood x reader #davos blackwood #benjicot x reader #davos blackwood x reader #hotd

645 notes · View notes

orphiclovers · 2 months ago

Text

Rereading early ORV and I have some THOUGHTS on Kim Dokja. In typical me fashion, they are unpopular. So if he's your absolute favourite character and seeing him be criticized will ruin your day, maybe skip this post, ok? Peace.

What is so novel and interesting about Kim Dokja is that he GENUINELY doesn't really have a knee jerk emotional reaction of outrage and empathy when seeing injustice happen. He sees something immoral and bad, but doesn't FEEL horrified and disgusted. Emotions don't drive him to attempt to fix the situation or save anyone.

Instead his moral compass is based on the simple logic that 'bad things happening should be prevented if there is an opportunity to prevent them.'

This philosophy is the most apparent in his actions in Chungmuro on the WHOLE, with the food and marginalized group and etc. But I will point out this moment in particular as an example of what I mean.

They see women be driven to prostitution to survive. Jung Heewon has an instinctive, human reaction of outrage and disgust, wants to rush in and save them and damn the consequences, while Kim Dokja is calm and rational, holding her back and saying those woman will starve if they try to help right now.

This lack of empathy (feeling strong emotions) is definitely due to childhood trauma stunting his emotional development but... that doesn't change the fact this is a legitimate part of his personality now.

Usually, when a character is 'cold and ruthless', it's because they are repressing their true feelings and forcing themselves to be unfeeling for some goal. Like Yoo Joonghyuk, for example.

But we are IN Kim Dokja's head and get to see the way he thinks, and being 'unfeelingly rational' IS what comes naturally to him.

Before you say anything, I know the Fourth Wall represses some of his emotions in certain situations and certainly helps him deal with pain and horror. But we are ALWAYS TOLD when it's active, and it isn't in these moments.

Blaming all of Kim Dokja's less than moral thoughts and behavior on the 4th wall even when there's no indication that it's influencing him at that particular moment, is not something I want to do as it feels like an attempt to scrub away his moral greyness. I choose to believe that his narration, in moments when he's not wrong or biased or 4th wall-ed, is a basically accurate representation of his character. I think the authors didn't make his narration totally 100% unreliable all the time, with no possible indication of where he's wrong or right. Because that would mean there is nothing a reader can latch onto and draw conclusions about KDJ from.

If they wanted to write about a faceless self insert with no concrete personality traits and flaws, a person you can headcanon to be anything, they wouldn't have written ORV.

I think it's okay to acknowledge Kim Dokja's first reaction to seeing a woman about to be raped is not 'oh my god...those bastards...! I have to stop this...!' but '...she might be dangerous or a hinderence in a future...'

We don't need to make excuses here and try to justify this. A moment later he catches himself thinking like this and 'shudders with disgust at himself.'

His first, instinctive thoughts that he can't control don't necessarily make him a bad person. What matters is his second thoughts and what he actually chooses to do, which he CAN control. I ALSO don't think he's wrong to feel disgusted at himself for having low empathy. His guilt is justified.

I genuinely like him even more for always picking the 'moral option' in every scenario now, than if he did it immediately with no hesitation. Because it makes empathy and compassion a constant choice he's making, and putting in the effort reflects well on what his values are.

Kim Dokja legitimately can't help but weigh everyone he meets on a scale of how 'useful they potenially are' first and foremost. He does this with strangers and also with all of kimcom too.

"Who should I save because they would be useful in the future? I wasn't Yoo Joonghyuk to be thinking about these things." At this point, chap 74, he thinks Yoo Joonghyuk is wrong and doesn't want to be like him at all and mostly calls him a psychopath. He thinks 'acting like him' is wrong and undesirable.

He has a mini arc about Yoo Joonghyuk later, goes from 'he's a bad person, I know it because I know everything about him' in chap 81 to 'maybe I don't know him at all' in chap 82 but this is before that.

Seeing people as tools and deciding who to save based on future knowledge is a thing BOTH of them do. Yet Kim Dokja critisizes Yoo Joonghyuk for it, it's his least favourite character trait that YJH of TWSA has.

And in typical Kim Dokja fashion, this similarity between them is exactly what he despises in Yoo Joonghyuk - but now we find out it's not because he finds it amoral ("I'm not a humanist" - he doesn't care about that part) but because he sees it as a mirror reflection of himself. He's projecting, as always!

In early ORV, he hates the part of Yoo Joonghyuk that is the most similar to himself. (even tho they're sort of the polar opposites too. Yoo Joonghyuk is a deeply emotionally driven person, he feels empathy and the desire to save everyone but chooses to repress and ignore this and act like a ruthless 'psychopath'. KDJ disagrees with this choice, as Kim Dokja IS an unfeeling psychopath (low empathy) but does his best to act like a decent person and not an edgelord.)

#dont ask how much of 'JUST LIKE MEEEEE!!!!' i had to cut from this you wont like the answer #but yes. kdj is giving aspd realness in every chapter and im tired of pretending otherwise #kim dokja #omniscient reader's viewpoint #orv #my posts #oh this post was supposed to be about hsy and kdj relationship but i ran out of space lol

194 notes · View notes

babybluebex · 1 year ago

Text

looking | joseph quinn x reader

summary: joe catches you looking and rewards (punishes?) you for your efforts pairing: joseph quinn x fem!reader (rpf - don't like, don't read) tags: smut (MINORS DNI), squirting, oral (m! and f!receiving), mostly dom!joe but surprise sub!joe at the end, praise kink, no condom, creampie, cockwarming author's note: yes i have a lecture this morning. yes i am writing this at work. no i will not apologize. enjoy <3 // follow @babybluebex-writes to be notified whenever i post a new story! (also big ole thanks to @freckledjoes for making this gif for me!! thanks a bunch!)

You heard his feet on the landing of the stairs, and then gentle padding as his bare feet sounded on the carpeted hallway as he made his way to the bedroom. These nights were your favorite— Joseph had made you dinner, cheesy pasta with garlic bread, then you had watched an episode of Succession before getting ready for bed. You could tell that Joe was in a sort of mood that night, the kind of mood where he lit a candle at dinner and kissed you and put on Al Green on his record player. He had asked if you wanted to join him in the shower, but you had declined; you had work in the morning, and a randy shower didn't exactly entail an early sleep.

But then, he rounded the corner and darkened the doorway, and you gulped. He looked good; wet curls on his forehead, singlet covering his beefy build, and those underwear, clinging to every curve just right. And he didn't even seem like he knew what he was doing. Joe rubbed his hair dry on his towel as he came into the bedroom, and he went to his dresser, rooting through the top drawer for some pajama bottoms. The silence was deafening, and damning, because Joe turned to you with an amused look on his face.

"What's wrong, love?" he asked. "Cat got your tongue?" He added a dramatic pout to his plush lips, and, fuck, you just had to kiss him.

"You just look really good," you said softly. "Can't I just look at you?"

"Oh, you want to look?" Joe asked teasingly. Oh. So he was in that sort of mood. "I thought it was rude to stare."

"I'm not staring," you told him. "I'm... Appreciating. Admiring."

"Admiring, eh?" Joe laughed. "What exactly are you admiring?"

"Well..." you started, holding out your hand and tracing the shape of his body in the air. He was certified grade A beef that day, finally having regained the weight he had lost to play Eddie, and you loved his plush hips and thick thighs. "And..." You made a cupping motion with your hand, and Joe let out a sputtered laugh.

"So you're staring at my dick," Joe said, shaking his head mirthfully. "I knew I was nothing but a piece of meat to you."

"No!" you exclaimed. Even though you knew he was joking, you didn't want him to think you were doing that for even a second. "I'm just... You just... Y'know? Just admiring every part of you."

"You're drooling," Joe cajoled. He hung his towel on the back of the door and made his way to the bed, and you watched as he grew closer, finally until he was lingering right next to you, his cloth-covered dick inches from your face. God, he smelled so good, you just wanted to take him then and there.

You leaned forward and placed a kiss on his bulge, looking up at him through your eyelashes to see his reaction, and you were overjoyed to see him slowly close his eyes and take a deep breath. "You gonna suck it or what?" he asked in a low voice, and the hot pressure of need slammed inside you belly. You loved when he got like this.

You readjusted yourself in bed, sitting on your knees to reach him properly, and you tugged him forward by his hips to get him closer. Carefully, you pulled down those black briefs, and his half-hard cock spilled forward. He was thick and heavy, beautiful, and you chuckled lightly at the sight before you. "You trimmed," you giggled, and Joe peeked his eyes open.

"Is that a crime?" he asked, and you slid your hands up his thighs, lightly dragging your nails up.

"No," you said. "I just like your bush."

Joe shrugged. "I'll grow it back out," he said. His hand smoothed your hair back, gathering it all up in a loose grip before he flattened his palm against the back of your head, pulling you towards him. You put an end to your games then, taking the head of his uncut cock into your mouth, lightly sucking, just enough to give him a little bit of pressure. Joe made a quiet noise, a sort of hum of appreciation, and you took him further into your mouth. He tasted good, musky but clean, and you moaned around him as your tongue lavished the thick vein that ran along the bottom of his cock.

"That's it," Joe whispered. "What a good girl... You love sucking my cock, don't you?"

You fluttered your eyelashes at him as an answer and took him deeper, then pulled back and suckled at his head for a moment, just to get a reaction out of him. His hand gripped your hair as he moaned, and he gritted his teeth. "Fuck," he whispered. "I knew you liked what you saw."

You pulled off of him with a gasping breath, letting your hand stroke him from balls to tip. "Did you do it on purpose?" you asked.

"Do what?"

"Dress like this," you asked. "Look so goddamn delicious. You know I can hardly resist you."

"That was the plan," Joe admitted. His stomach flexed when you reached up to cup his balls, and you leaned back in, sucking him down again. You didn't usually like giving blowjobs— you hardly ever went down on past boyfriends— but there was something special about Joe that made you want to swallow down his cock every single day, no matter what. "God, you look so hot like this, darling. Love watching you like this."

You moaned softly, then broke away from him, panting to try to regain the breath that sucking him off has made you lose. Joe didn't hesitate to lean down and kiss you, holding your face as his tongue swirled in your mouth, tasting himself off of you. You scrambled backwards to lay on your back, and you tugged Joe in by his shirt, urging him to lay on top of you. He did exactly as you expected, following you and nudging your legs open as he messily kissed you, and he broke the kiss to look down at you. Panties and a t-shirt (his t-shirt), nothing else.

"Fuck," Joe whispered, and he chuckled. His eyes were stuck on your covered pussy, and he wet his lips with the tip of his tongue when he spotted the damp patch on your panties. "Is this all for me?"

"Yeah," you told him. "F'course it is."

"Jesus, I'm a spoiled man," Joe whispered, kissing you deeply again. His hands scrambled to tug down your panties and expose you to him, and his greedy eyes watched as you opened your legs for him, showing him your wet pussy. Your blood was thrumming in every vein with desire, you needed him so badly, and he flicked his eyes up to yours, those lips of his falling open gently. He kissed you once more, then leaned down to kiss your neck, nibbling softly at your skin before trailing his kisses downwards. Ever downwards he ventured, until his warm breath was fanning across your cunt, and he did not waste any time before he licked at you.

The stubble on his chin and cheeks roughed up your thighs as he ate you out like he had never learned how to do anything else. He sucked at your quivering clit and made you cry out in pleasure, his tongue danced on your hole, he even added his fingers to help open you up. By the time the knot in your belly was straining, he was sucking lewdly and shaking his head, making sure that you felt every inch of his fingers and tongue on you. It was so good, it felt so fucking amazing, and you let the knot snap and come undone. You grabbed hard at Joe's hair and almost cried as you came on his fingers; it just felt so fucking good.

"Jesus!" Joe laughed, and you panted as you looked down at him. Something wet was in his beard, and you laughed when you realized that it wasn't just your regular juices. "Good fucking girl, do that again, baby."

"I-I didn't even know I could do that," you laughed breathlessly, letting your head fall back. Joe wasted no time in pushing his fingers back into you, thrusting hard into you and making your toes curl with the sensitivity, and you yelped when the sudden knot burst again, and you were able to watch this time as you squirted quickly on Joe's face. He seemed to love it, smiling up at you and panting, and he pulled out his soaked fingers. He looked at them in awe, wet and glistening, before he touched them to his lips, licking them clean.

You leaned up and stripped off your shirt, and you reached out for him, pulling his hips between your legs again as you shoved his singlet over his head. You discarded it across the room before you kissed him again, tasting yourself on his tongue, and he didn't wait a single second before he grasped his cock and pushed inside you. You were so fucking sensitive from cumming so hard, and you grabbed hard at his shoulders as he instantly started up a pace. He was quick, thrusting messily into you and holding down your hips to keep you where he wanted you, and you hid yourself in his neck. Jesus, he was insatiable tonight; he had made you fucking squirt, and now he was fucking you so hard that you were worried you two might break the bed.

"Baby," you whispered in his ear. "Easy, honey, we have all night."

"I almost came when you squirted," Joe told you. "Fuck me, I'm so close already. Let me cum, and then we can go slower and nicer, but, right now, I need to— Fuck!"

His cock throbbed inside you as he fucked you, and you knew that he was right. He was dangerously close to his release, and you to yours, and you could have sworn that you heard him whimper when you clenched down on him, tightening around his cock.

"Please, baby," Joe whispered. "Let me cum inside you, please, fuck, I need it."

"Fuck, yeah," you breathed. "Cum inside me, please."

Joe's nails dug into the flesh of your hip, and you gasped as Joe moaned deeply, and he filled you. You could feel it inside you, so much thick cum— your poor boy really needed to cum. He moaned in your ear and panted heavily as he tried to catch his breath, and you pulled yourself from his neck to smile hazily up at him. "Was it good?" Joe asked, and you chuckled, brushing back his curls.

"Yes, my love," you told him. "So good. I didn't know I could squirt, that was interesting."

"A surprise, for sure," Joe laughed. "But it was hot. Can you do it again?"

"I don't know how I did it the first time," you chuckled. "I don't know if I can do it again."

Joe huffed out a laugh, and he leaned up on his elbows, rocking his hips into you again. Your nerves were so scorched and sensitive that you instantly let out a yelp, and Joe said, "Well, let's see."

#joseph quinn #joe quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #joe quinn smut

2K notes · View notes

rosenclaws · 2 months ago

Note

Hi love, I hope you’re doing well! I’ve been a fan of (stalking but let’s not talk about it) your blog for a little while, but this is the first time I’ve sent in a request for you! Your writing for Leopold is literally the sweetest ever and you’re the only writer I know of that actively writes for him, it’s so dry out here!! I was wondering if I could request something fluffy with Leopold x fem!reader where is like the most tooth-rotting fluff you can think of. I’m talking him trying to court the reader even though it’s the modern day and that’s not really a thing anymore and shes a bit confused but loves it, a super touchy reader that loves to shower Leo with her affection, literally anything. Those are just ideas, feel free to be as creative as you’d like (and don’t be shy if you wanna make it a longer fic, I’ll take what I can get). This fandom (if I can even call it that) is such a barren wasteland for fanfics and you are such an amazing writer for him and just in general!!

Much love 💕

Courting || Leopold Mountbatten x Reader

a/n: Hi!! Okay I kinda took this in a slightly different direction so if its not what you wanted then plz feel free to send in another request (ik they're closed but I will make an exception) ALSO FUCK HES SO HANDSOME IM GONNA SCREAM

wc: 1.2k

warning: reader wears lipstick

The last thing you expected was to find a neatly written letter waiting for you when you got home. Pinned neatly to the door with a small rose attached to it. You recognized Leopold's handwriting immediately, no one else you know has such beautiful penmanship.

There’s a flutter of butterflies in your stomach as you open the letter. You and Leopold have gotten very close to each other. He’s unbelievably charming and so sweet and he’s just everything. The way he looks at you, it makes you feel like the only one in the world.

Hello my love,

I am writing to ask if you would do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner and a show this Friday night. I have found myself completely captured by your beauty, you live in my every thought. Every breath I breathe for you and every beat of my heart calls your name. I wish to court you and have the honor of calling you mine.

Your dearest Leopold

You read the letter once, and then again and again. Your fingers trace each letter. Never have you had anyone say something so precious to you before. The rose smells fresh and sweet, he must have gotten it this morning. You hurry to write him a reply, accepting his offer with great enthusiasm.

Folding the letter you press your lips the corner of the paper leaving a lipstick mark. Leopold lives just down the hall so you walk over. Just as you’re about to slip the letter under the door it swings open.

“Leo!” You squeak out as stand back up, almost knocking your head into his chest.

"Hello darling." He's dressed in casual clothes and my god you need to thank whoever introduced him to sweatpants. Anyways.

"I see you received my letter." You bite your lip as you hand over your letter. His name written as fancy as you can.

"Yeah, it was really sweet Leo." He takes the letter and you swear he blushes a little when he sees the lipstick mark. He stares at you for a while, with that perfect smile and gorgeous eyes.

"I uh, I'll see you Friday." His eyes light up at your words.

"I'll see you Friday my love." He takes your hand and kisses your knuckles.

You manage to keep it together as he shuts the door but once you make it back to your apartment you're melting. A giddy feeling you haven't felt in years. You have to wonder how he will attempt to court you in modern day. People don't really court anymore but all you care about is that you have a date with Leopold. Friday couldn't come fast enough.

You had never felt this nervous before. Spending way too long getting ready just to be done an hour early. It's just Leopold, you know Leopold. There's no reason to be nervous but you can't stop the tornado of worry brewing inside of you.

What if something goes wrong? Or the date goes horrible? What if he decides he doesn't like you anymore? What if this ruins your friendship. You shake your head and try to dispel any bad thoughts.

Tonight was going to be great. It has to be. There's a knock at the door and you quickly double check everything before opening it. Any worry still residing in your mind disappears. A beautiful bouquet of flowers is handed to you as Leopold is dressed to the nines. A crisp white shirt and black pants.

"They're beautiful." You say admiring the flowers. Fresh and absolutely gorgeous.

"Not as beautiful as you." Leopold says, barely at a whisper. Like he can't believe that you've even agreed to a date with him. He can't help but admire everything about you. To your smile, your beauty, your laugh, your voice. You're perfect.

You place the flowers in a vase and then the two of you are off. He rests his hand on your back as you walk through the city. His thumb draws circles in your back as you approach the restaurant. He's planned everything himself and he can't help but hope it's enough for you.

Dinner is lovely and the conversation flows without any awkwardness. You're talking to your friend Leopold but you know there's something more as you slowly get closer to each other as the night goes on. Hidden away in the corner booth you are free to get lost in each others eyes. Though you wish you could stay here all night he promised a show. Leopold loved the theater and he promised one day to take you and tonight was the night.

"How did you get such good seats?" You ask as he waits for you to sit before he does.

"I have my ways darling." You're hyper aware of just how close the two of you had gotten at dinner and how close you are now.

The show is interesting yes but Leopold was a very distracting man. Your hands inch closer together. Glancing over at Leopold you find him already looking at you. He waits for your silent approval, not wanting to cross an boundaries. So you take the leap. Intertwining your hands together.

A faint blush on his face and a big smile on yours. His hands are so warm and they fit so perfectly with your hand. When the show ends you reluctantly head back home. You don't want this night to end. Your hands swing together as you gush about the play.

"I had a wonderful night Leopold," You're leaning against your door, wanting so badly to keep the night going. His hair swoops perfectly in front of his forehead and he's got this pretty smile that you can't stop staring at.

"So did I, Thank you for accompanying me tonight." His eyes drift to your lips.

It's adorable seeing just how old school he really is. You know he's from 1876 but still. Modern boys pale in comparison to Leopold.

"You know you don't have to be so nervous Leo, I want to kiss you too." You say boldly.

He chuckles, ducking his head as bites his lip softly. He cups your face gently and you close eyes as he gently captures your lips in a kiss. He's gentle and sweet and you crave more. Still he pulls away much too soon. You pout slightly and he laughs.

"I know I'm much more traditional than you're used to." He traces your lips with his thumb. Admiring every little detail of your face.

"But someone as wonderful as you deserves to be treated with the upmost respect." He kisses your forehead gently.

"You deserve to be loved," Another kiss.

"To be cherished," Another.

"And to be worshiped." Words fail you completely. Leopold has rendered you utterly speechless.

"Did I overstep?" He asks, worried about you silence.

You shake your head. practically jumping into him as you kiss him. Passionately running your hands through his hair. He groans slightly as you tug on his hair. He pushes you against the wall, bracing your head with his hand as he kisses back.

"I'm falling in love with you." He whispers. A hopeful glint in his eyes.

"I'm already in love with you." You admit.

You become lost in his lips as he kisses you again. He just can't get enough. You blindly reach for the door handle and without argument pull him inside of your apartment.

Soft kisses and laughter are shared quietly between the two of you. Time ticks by but you have lost all sense of care in the world. All that matters to you is this moment. Your fairytale come to life. And it was just perfect.

#hugh jackman x reader #kate and leopold #leopold mountbatten #leopold mountbatten x reader

182 notes · View notes

goquokka00 · 6 months ago

Text

The Little Things (Jisung Ver.)

The small things he does every day that make you feel oh, so special.

| Compares Hands |

Jisung is one of those people where I just get the vibe where he'd be one to regularly compare his hands to yours. Why? I don't know. But I just get the feeling that whenever the two of you are cuddling, Jisung's got your hand in his, and he's just...comparing them.

Your hands are so different compared to his. They're smaller, so much more feminine. They're so soft, probably because you use that one lotion you hidden from him every day on them. They're nothing like his, which we've seen pictures of them and dear GOD, his hands are absolutely fine. They're veiny and long, they're probably rough, but are just so gentle.

A lot of times, Jisung will take your hand and place it against his to directly compare them. And he'll comment on it, too. "Your hands are so cute, baby," or, "Our hands look so perfect together." They're never bad comments, he just likes to tell you how he feels.

| Shares Earbuds |

This is probably a given. Jisung loves music, and we all know this. And that means he's open to hearing a whole variety of music, mainly to help inspire him for songs for Stray Kids. Where else is better to get that than from the person he loves the most?

If you guys are ever out in public or walking around, Jisung will almost ask for an earbud so he can listen to whatever you're listening to. It doesn't matter what you're music tastes are, either. Kpop, rock and roll, pop, country, hip hop, rap, indie, latin, jazz, he'll listen to it all. And if he recognizes the song, he'll happily sing the lyrics.

There are other times where Jisung will want to share his earbud with you, too. I feel like he wouldn't play any spoilers for upcoming albums (Bangchan would murder him alive), but he'd play music that he listens to regularly, wanting to expand your own horizons. As a bonus, I also think that the two of you would make one big playlist of both of your favorites, and you'd listen to that together a lot.

| Holds Your Arm |

Jisung really likes to be close to you at all times. And that means that whenever you two are shopping, or going to different places outside of JYPE or your work area, or even the apartment, there are times where his arms are wrapped around whichever arm of yours is closest to him. Sometimes your arms are linked, but other times, he's clinging to your arm.

I do have a strong feeling that he'd mostly do this if his anxiety was acting up. If he was starting to spiral because of crowds, or his thoughts were overwhelming him because of work, he'd cling to you to try and ground himself. And of course, you'd be there to comfort him.

He'd probably apologize for it. He'd feel bad because you'd have to put up with him like that. But you really don't care. You'd gently rub his hand, keeping it there while guiding him to a less populated area so you two could chill and just breathe. And while he'd feel guilty, Jisung would be so grateful for it.

| Back Hugs in the Morning |

I've said this once in my first ever post, and I'll happily say it again. I am a firm believer of Jisung not being a morning person at all. The late nights down at the studio, writing songs for hours until the early hours of the morning just drain him, and getting up is quite literally a chore in Jisung's mind.

And so, while you're probably making breakfast, I think that Jisung would be the kind of person to come up behind you and pull you back against his chest, the man still half-asleep as he rests his head on your shoulder. He refuses to talk, as it takes too much energy. And so all you get are grunts, hums, and any other noises he decides to make.

Jisung will just cling to you for as long as he needs. If you need to walk to a different area of the kitchen while you're cooking, Jisung will just follow you, not giving you any space whatsoever. Even when he's finally awake and alert, he's not letting you go. At least, not until he gets his good morning kiss.

| Spoils You |

Guys, I kid you not, Jisung will buy you anything and everything you want. You want food from that one restaurant you went to a few weeks ago? Done. You spotted a sweater that you really like? It's yours. You need something for a hobby of yours? Say no more. As long as you're happy, Jisung's happy.

It doesn't even matter how expensive it is. Nothing is too expensive if it's for you. You can complain all you want, too. You don't want him to spend all of his money on you? Too bad. You're happy with just being his? Yeah, but Jisung wants to make you even happier.

I also have this irk that Jisung would buy you souvenirs from wherever he travels to. If it reminds him of you, he'll buy it for you and then give it to you once he gets back to South Korea. And I'm not kidding you, this man would be like so giddy as he watches you react to each and every single gift. He just loves to spoil you beyond belief, and he will NEVER stop.

Hey! Firstly, thank you so much for reading this post, and I really hope you enjoyed! If you did, please like, reblog, or comment so I can see how I'm doing with writing and getting feedback! I hope you have a lovely day! Sleep well, stay in good health, and eat something if you haven't! ❤️❤️❤️

273 notes · View notes

onepieceisreeeeaaalll · 2 months ago

Text

Don't Stop - Law x FemReader

Hey all! This is my first attempt at writing smut that I feel like is good enough to publish. Since it's kinktober, I wanted to contribute to the community in some way. I typed it up this morning and went over it a few times. Its fairly short, a little over 3k words and features mutual masturbation.

Edit: I keep going back and making changes when will the perfectionism leave me lol. I also changed the title bc I like it better.

This is for my Law girlie's. Hope you enjoy!

--------

Law had decided early on that day that he wouldn’t allow any distractions. He had let the paperwork build and build over the past couple of days, something that has greatly troubled him. It’s not like him to avoid work, but he couldn’t get that damn woman off his mind no matter how hard he tried. The feeling of her curves, the valley between her breasts, the sounds she’d make-

Today is different, though. Today will be productive and disciplined. He’s the damn Captain, a surgeon - he can handle a little discipline. But no matter how many times he reads through his paperwork, fills out variables and dots his signatures, he struggles with maintaining focus. He’s never felt so needy before, so goddamn horny. It’s annoying the way you completely flood his senses in every way. More than that, it’s irritating. After what feels like hours, but has likely only been maybe one hour of mindlessly dragging his eyes along the papers, he groans in frustration. Law leans back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose.

He can’t. The moment he closes his eyes, all he can see is your beautiful smile. The way the light shines through your hair, the sway of your hips and the shape of your ass. How your lips looked wrapped around him last night. His thoughts get more jumbled, more needlessly arousing that he feels his cock twitch in his jeans. Fuck. Goddammit. This is bullshit.

Get a grip, Trafalgar. Get a goddamn grip on yourself.

He can’t take it anymore. In one swift motion, he stands abruptly from his desk and exits his office. Law can be a patient man when he needs to be, but today is not one of those days. He can’t focus until he sees you, until he gets the opportunity to bring you both to a fucked-out state of bliss. He needs to feel his body against yours, to light the fire in his veins that pervades and itches beneath his skin. Law barely even registers the faces he passes, the familiar friends and colleagues of his crew with their faces twisted with either concern or a knowing expression. They aren’t even on his mind. His feet move fast, echoing through the metal halls of the Polar Tang. He needs you. He needs you like air.

Law makes it to his quarters where he had left you this morning. He’d exchanged a few sweet chaste kisses in the early morning hours to try to convince the both of you that he’d come back for more later. Later arrived far sooner than either of you might have anticipated, but his control had snapped and he's now a man on a mission. He takes a deep breath, his hand lingering on the doorknob. This is it, Trafalgar, your one last chance to walk away before you-

“Fuck.”

A breathy moan reverberates from inside of the room. Law feels his heart stop and his blood turn cold. He knows that voice, the quality of swears that leave you when you’re in the throws of passion. Are you…?

Another moan, this time longer but softer. His eyes widen and his heart suddenly quickens at the sound. He can’t believe it. You are.

An internal, agonizing debate begins in his head. Should he walk in, give you what you need? Should he walk away, try to take care of business himself? At this point he’s too far gone - he knows what you’re doing and god does he want to join. With the sound of another wanton moan, his primal urges win out and he gently pushes open the door. He's careful to move it in just the right way that it won’t creak, unsure if he wants to get caught and possibly interrupt it. He slips in, quickly closing the door behind him to observe the debauchery going on in his bed.

And fuck, is it debaucherous.

Law takes in the beautiful feast before him - you lying back on the mattress, only a thin sheet haphazardly resting against your lower waist, blocking the full view of your activities. Your back is arched, eyes closed as your hands move desperately in tandem beneath the sheets. He can hear the wet sounds of your slick being invaded by your digits and, judging by the trembling of your legs, you’ve been at this for a while. A small, shaky breath leaves him as he hears your noises - god, those noises that haunt him and invade his dreams. Those enchanting, goddamn helpless sighs, little gasps and hiccups that escape you when you’re really enjoying yourself. Law swears he could listen to them on repeat and never tire of hearing them. The flush of your cheeks is so mesmerizing that his eyes linger there in particular for a moment, a growing desire rising in him to make that blush deeper. His eyes trail back down, and this is the part that really makes him really feral; you’re wearing his shirt, and it’s hoisted just above your breasts to expose the beautiful peaks of your areolas. Everything about you is so intoxicating, and the fact that you’re completely surrounded by him, his scent, his private quarters - all of it just sets him off. He is immediately hard in his jeans, feeling the tightness constricting him like a vice.

“Fuck…” Law breathes, accidentally falling back against the door.

That’s when you hear him. With two fingers still curled inside you, your finger desperately rubbing your needy clit, you halt your movements dead in your tracks. Your eyes widen at the sight of your boyfriend leaning against the door, his own face slightly flushed despite his usual resting-grumpy face. Your heart is racing and you can’t even think for a moment from the combination of the lustful haze and embarrassment filling you. You’re both quietly observing each other, watching with acute awareness that this isn’t what either of you were expecting. Finally, you can’t stand the awkward silence anymore, and you decide to speak.

“I thought you were working.” You say breathlessly, your voice still shaky from the intensity of your actions only moments ago.

“Yeah, I can see that.” You respond quietly. You’re trying to get a handle on your breathing, but your hands are still posed to attack at your aching center again. You don’t know why you haven’t moved them away yet, but now it feels awkward to call attention to that area.

“I was.” Law answers simply, a little more quickly than even he meant. “I’m not now, though.”

It doesn’t matter if you do call attention to it or not, though. Law’s eyes are already trailing down your body with a silent reverence and a hidden, predatory intention. His throat bobs as he makes it to the sheet that’s covering you. It’s silent again but only for a few moments this time. It doesn’t take long before Law’s self control breaks.

“Don’t stop.”

Your breathing hitches at his words, the way they sound so firm yet strained making your walls clench around your fingers automatically. Don’t stop - don’t stop? Your brain doesn’t even fully comprehend the command before your hands are already working you over again. The middle and ring fingers of your right hand rub slow circles at your clit, the same fingers on your left hand beginning to pump back into you. It’s not as intense as it was when you were interrupted but it’s enough to elicit small, needy whines from you. Your eyes stay trained on Law’s and the way his pupils seem to have darkened over his expression. You trail over his body in a quiet admiration for your boyfriend. His muscles that are taut beneath his shirt, the way his belt buckle rests on his waist, and his cock that's so hard and dying to escape his pants. The sight makes you groan and you have to bite your lip to keep yourself from getting too loud.

A small smirk rises to Law’s lips. He sees exactly what you’re looking at and it drives him crazy with need. His arms are crossed over his chest as he watches the show, but he’s not sure how long he can last with the throbbing in his groin.

“Move the sheet.” He instructs, his voice smooth but commanding. It’s the same voice he uses when he’s giving out assignments or instructing a surgery. It’s also your favorite voice he uses in the bedroom.

You take your hand away from your clit, shakily moving it to remove the sheet that blocks his view. Once you’re fully exposed, your hand returns to your clit and a soft whimper escapes your throat. You’re pulsing around your fingers again when you see the way his eyes zero-in on your pussy and the good work you’re doing. Fuck, it’s such a turn-on to see the way his cock twitches in his jeans. Through breathless gasps, your hands increase their speed and your own gaze is fixated on Law.

“Touch yourself.” You instruct, using your own commanding voice despite how much you’re falling apart.

You don’t need to tell Law twice. His hands move to undo his belt with practiced ease, but his eyes never leave you. His smirk stays fixated on his lips even with how flustered he’s feeling. You’re so beautiful to him, you hung the goddamn moon and now you’re putting on the most perfect show for him. He can't get enough.

“You want me to get off to you touching yourself, (y/n)?” Law asks in almost a mocking, teasing tone.

You nod weakly, biting your lip when you see him toss the belt aside carelessly. His hands move to his buttons and zipper, and the sound of the zipper echoing in the room is enough to make a few needy sighs leave you. It’s only heightened when his cock springs out eagerly as though it was dying to greet you and make an appearance.

“Fuck, you’re so hard…” You groan, your eyes shutting briefly to try to get a grip on yourself.

That’s not good enough for Law, though.

“Hey, eyes up here. You’re the one who wanted me to touch myself.” Law says, his tone both firm and somehow still laced in mockery.

Your eyes snap open at his command and you can see he’s already making quick work of his shaft, his hand pumping in slow, measured movements. His tip is already red and inflamed, glistening beautifully with his precum in a way that makes you lick your lips. Without your permission, your hands have already started picking up the speed. Your two fingers are curling and moving in and out of you with a force that makes your body tense. Your fingers at your clit circle the bundle of nerves furiously, causing your body to shiver from the pleasurable sensations. You’re already so close from building yourself back up. This scenario, it’s the hottest thing that you and Law have ever done, which is saying something.

It’s so primal, so horny and hungry that both of you have to watch each other masturbate while longing to touch the other. The sounds in the room are absolutely sinful - moans, low curses, huffs, and the sound of skin being assaulted echo against the metal walls. Pure unadulterated lust fills the room and it's enough to make both you and Law feels completely enraptured by it. You’ve never seen Law so undone so quickly before and you’ve certainly never seen the way he touches himself. It’s almost hypnotizing to dart between the focused look on his face and the way his hand eagerly strokes his cock.

“Add a third finger.” Law commands, his voice breathless and strained.

You immediately do as he says, a third finger poking into your core with little regard. Another whine leaves you and the way your face contorts with pleasure causes Law’s hips to buck towards his hand involuntarily.

“Fuck, (y/n)...you’re so goddamn needy for me. You couldn’t wait a few hours?” He mocks breathlessly.

“No, I-...I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“Clearly. You’re so wet for me, I-” Law hisses, his hand clenching around his cock. “God, you’re so beautiful like this. Using your hands and pretending they’re mine.”

You groan, your body arching slightly at his praise. He always knows exactly what to say to get you there but you always give it right back to him. Dirty talk has almost become a game between the two of you. Ordinarily the surgeon is very introverted and stern, but in the bedroom he has a way of opening up far more than you’d ever expected.

“Yeah? You like that I couldn’t stop thinking about you, that I- ah-...that I needed to fuck myself?” You respond just as breathlessly before biting your lip to suppress another whiny moan.

Law doesn’t respond immediately, a strangled huff leaving his throat instead. He’s not one for making a lot of noises, but you have a way of bringing out the worst - and best - in him.

“What were you thinking about?” Law asks quickly, almost like he’s compelled to.

Your hands increase their speed, your fingers almost slamming into you and dragging along your walls. Every now and then you touch that beautiful, spongy g-spot that makes your pussy clench tighter.

“You bending me over your desk, slapping my ass and calling me a good girl.” The words fall out of your mouth, and you’d almost be embarrassed if you weren’t so worked up.

That doesn’t matter to Law, though. He groans, his head falling back against the door he’s still leaning against. He can feel his heartrate quickening and every word you say is pushing him closer. Your voice alone is like a goddamn aphrodisiac.

You’re not doing much better, either. Seeing him almost lose himself from your admission sends a shiver down your spine. You can’t take your eyes off of his cock - you’re completely fixated by the way his veins decorate his shaft and the tattoos on his hands moving fervently to bring him to a release. You can feel yourself reaching that peak, teetering on the edge towards absolute nirvana.

The noises coming out of you are not even controlled anymore - they’re animalistic, urgent, and your hands are moving with that same energy. It’s been quiet for a minute now since your admission, but Law speaks up quicker this time than the last.

“Look at you, taking your fingers so good. You're such a mess.” He breathes, his hand stroking his cock a little faster now. He can see the sickness of your fingers when they exit you and it's so delicious looking. “A goddamn mess. So fucking tight you can barely move your fingers.”

“Law.” You whine, your body tensing. He's absolutely right - with how much you're tightening and pulsing on your fingers, you can barely move all three of your fingers. Your walls have a firm grip on you as if trying to swallow you whole.

“Yeah, baby? You say my name so goddamn perfect. Say it again. Say it.” He commands, small huffs of air leaving him. If you could hear anything over the noise of your pussy and the sounds leaving you, Law can be heard groaning so softly.

“Law. Fuck, you feel so good.” You gasp, your mind completely hazy. It's not even him in you but you're so preoccupied by the movements of his hand that you can't help it. It's what comes out.

“Mm…do I? You wish it was my cock stuffing your pretty pussy instead?” Law groans, his head falling back again. He's so close that he can't even begin to hold himself together anymore.

“Yes. Please, I want…fuck, I-...oh my g-...” You choke out, your words barely even coherent anymore. You're so close, right on that precipice, and it makes Law let out a breathless chuckle.

“You gonna come already? Fine, do it, then. Be a good girl and look at me while you cream on your fingers.” Law commands breathlessly, his voice strained but stern.

That's all it takes for you. With a final curl of your digits, you're sent firmly over the edge and into complete unfettered ecstasy. The way you tremble and keen makes Law finish too, though his is more controlled and fairly silent save for one quiet groan.

Law can't peel his eyes away from you as you finish. It's mesmerizing watching you writhe and work yourself through your orgasm. It feels like he's watching some taboo art he's not supposed to. Your body is so gorgeous to him that it makes his heart pound. How in hell did he get so lucky?

After a few moments of panting and quietly recollecting yourselves, Law pads off across the room to grab a towel and clean his hand. He'd managed to catch most of his release, though he has to wipe some of it from his shirt. With a sigh, he removes the material, chiding himself silently for making such a mess. He finally glances back over at you, seeing the blissed-out limp expression on your face. Law smirks before making his way over to the bed, taking a seat next to you.

It's quiet for a moment and he can tell that you've fully come back to yourself. Your flushed cheeks indicate the embarrassment that seems to have finally settled in. He chuckles softly, taking a hand to brush some hair from your forehead.

“You have a good time?” He teases quietly.

You groan, annoyed, and avert your gaze from his. You've never been caught masturbating before, much less masturbated with someone else. It was as vulnerable and shameful as it was hot.

“Shut up.” You pout. “I didn't think you were coming back for a few hours.”

“I know.” Law says gently, moving his fingers delicately through your hair. “It's fine. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Yeah, well I disagree.”

“What? You didn't like it?” Law asks with a small smirk. Judging by how you two got off, he knows that you'd be full of shit to deny it.

“Tell you what. I still have some work that I need to get done. At lunch, though, I want you to stop by my office.” Law leans in close, his breath tickling your ear. “Maybe we can make that fantasy of yours a reality.”

You don't even bother answering. You know he knows the answer. After a few moments of silence, Law clicks his tongue his fingers moving to drag his knuckles across your cheek gently.

#one piece #law x reader #one piece smut #one piece x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #op smut #one piece law #kinktober

185 notes · View notes

colourstreakgryffin · 10 months ago

Note

I saw you're taking Hazbin hotel requests so I thought I'd shoot my shot! So reader is a young boy who also died around Alastor's time(Early 1930s) . He's so confused and overwhelmed by how fast everything is progressing. So when he hears Alastor humming/singing a song from the 1930s he feels a sense of comfort and familiarity. Bonus if it also happens to be their favorite song! Take your time and you're amazing!

Oooh! Fourth Alastor request and I am having such a great time with this! This man is so fun to write for! After I finish here, I am gonna go cook some Jambalaya then pop it into my pentagram and summon Al so he can cook me!

Alastor- Night & Day

Like the beat, beat, beat of the tom tom…

when the jungle shadows fall

like the tick, tick, tock of the stately clock

You don’t recognise anywhere you are… this place. It’s hot, dark, dangy and uncomfortable. There’s nothing here resembling Earth and it’s shaking you to your core. Not having the strength nor confidence to move anymore from the alleyway you were just dropped into upon arriving here from the pentagram in the dark sky. Everyone is too much for your young mind. Well. Other than that, those lyrics…

As it stands against the wall

Like the drip drip drip of the raindrops

When the summer shower is through

So a voice within me keeps repeating you, you, you

That song is a symbol of comfort for you. Night & Day by Cole Porter. Something your mother use to sing to you every night before bed, the sound of pretty rain hitting your open window as that beautiful sweet woman would sing over and over again, all without it growing repetitive, until you fell asleep. Having wonderful dreams all the time

Even though you’re scared out of your mind, you begin to walk out to the streets. Packed to the brim with all kinds of weird-shaped adults but you avoid most of the them, weaving through this thick crowd to find the source of the soothing lullaby of your whole life and the voice singing it. It sounds dapper, transatlantic, if not an old radio. Is it coming from a radio?

Night and day, you are the one

Only you beneath the moon or under the sun

Whether near to me, or far

It's no matter, darling, where you are

I think of you

It felt like a game of cat and mouse. Running around to find where that wonderful singing is coming from and it feels like the person is constantly teleporting, no adult should be this frustrating to find. Or, you’re just too overwhelmed from being dropped into literal Hell to even realise your coordination skills are as dropping as you did. Your mind is racing to come to terms with what’s going on

This isn’t New Orleans at all… and not a single trace of your parents around. Are you alone? No. No. You don’t want to be alone, you’re too young to be alone. Is everybody here too evil to care about a literal child Sinner being stuck on his own and having to fend for himself in ways he doesn’t know how to…

By all the unholy gods. Somebody help

Day and night, night and day, why is it so

That this longing for you follows wherever I go

In the roaring traffic's boom

In the silence of my lonely room

I think of you

The loud noises of talking, of the wall of built-in weird flat devices screeching and echoing, the patter of footsteps. It makes you want to hide away and sleep to try shake off all the distress and overwhelming feelings you are being tormented with but that song is way too recognisable and comforting for you to ignore so you just keep pursuing it

Maybe, it’ll be pointless and the singing source will be from a Radio of your year but it almost feels like the song is organic and from a person. That means there is an adult of your time here. A man from the 1930s, Hell, he may be somebody of your family! That’d be wonderful and your hopes are high that when you do find the source, it’s somebody you’ll get to embrace and talk to

Day and night, night and day

Under the hide of me

There's an oh such a hungry yearning burning inside of me

And this torment won't be through

Until you let me spend my life spreading love

A flash of bright red crossed your eyes when you finally had managed to shakily but stubbornly and determined, pasted through the big careless and if not almost hypnotised by the running TVs crowd, and continued down the road in half sprints. Following a array of melodically humming, recreating the beat and rhythm of the song as it seems the source is quite invested in such a song

It felt like forever following a mere sound across the city’s streets but there he is. The source of the singing, he’s so close that you can finally reach a arm out and take his hand to catch his attention

Day and night, night and day—

The man instantly mutes his singing. He is tall, in a nice fancy coat with long hems at the bottoms, with a pair of what seemed to be tall deer ears on the top of his head and his pale face branded with a permanent toothy grin, he looked both menacing but yet friendly. Turning around to face the nine-year-old Sinner running around the Pride Ring’s own Pentagram City’s streets to chase the source of a song of familiarity and now has chased and caught his hand, Alastor reacted rather friendly and understanding to be presented with a child of his own era

Leaning down to be kneel before this young confused on-the-verge-of-crying boy, the Radio Demon says smooth and curious with that same radio effect almost overlapping his charming transatlantic accent, placing his free hand on your little shoulder

Something about Alastor reminded you of a popular figure from New Orleans you’ve met before

“Greetings there, young man… tell me, where are your parents?”

586 notes · View notes

greg-montgomery · 10 months ago

Note

hi! i’m not sure if you’re still taking requests, but i love your writing and your page!

i have a nsfw request and you can totally say no or not do it, but i rly just wanna see someone write it!

so like y/n is super sweet and kind at work at the bau, and everyone expects her to be super innocent since she’s almost the youngest out of all of them, but one night she ends up at hitch’s hotel room during a case because she’s stressed and her and hotch kind of have something between them (like they both rly want each other but won’t say anything, the whole team knows)

anyways, they like get down to it (idfk 😭), and she’s the complete opposite of what he expects, and it kind of surprises him because she seems so innocent and it rly turns him on (that sounds weird idk but YOU GET IT 😭😭).

anyways, i rly hope u write it but don’t feel obligated to if you don’t want to, love! also i think it would be rly funny if she’s caught rly early in the morning sneaking out of his room and a few ppl from the team catch her sneaking out!

maybe like softdom!hotch? idk 😭 SORRY IVE NEVER MADE A REQUEST

ANYWAYS. i love your writing so much! hope you have an amazing day love!

- 🎃

hii!! i hope you have an amazing day too <3 i love you!

nsfw - 18+ minors dni!!!

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“And I was screaming at him. If I hadn’t woken up the next second, I would have probably attacked him physically.”

Hotch chuckled at your words as he took a seat right next to you on the edge of his bed.

“Don’t laugh! This is serious, am I going crazy?”

“No, you aren’t,” he said, and gently placed his hand on your thigh in an attempt to calm you down. “I’ve also had dreams about unsubs, it’s normal. You were probably affected because you had talked to the victim just a few hours before he killed her.”

He knew you were worried, but he couldn’t help but notice that you were biting your bottom lip that same way that always drove him crazy. It was so hard being around you; in his hotel room, all alone, with the scent of your perfume clouding his judgment.

“Okay. Maybe I’m overthinking it,” you said, and he caught you staring at his hand on you. If there was any indication of you being uncomfortable he would have never put it there in the first place. But he could see the look on your face; you liked it.

So he kept it there.

Your eyes travelled from his hand to his eyes. God, you were so beautiful, all he wanted to do was lay you down on that bed and take you until you were screaming his name.

The way you were staring at him made him wonder if you could read his thoughts. You were a profiler after all.

“Thanks for the advice,” you said. “You’re a wise old man.”

“That’s David.”

Nothing gave him the same level of satisfaction making you laugh did. During those moments you were almost his.

“Right, sorry,” you giggled.

There was that same look again. You were biting your lips, bit this time it wasn’t out of nervousness; you were trying to contain your laughter.

Hotch didn’t know where he found the courage, but he removed his hand from your thigh and brought it to your face, running his thumb over your mouth. “I love it when you play with your lips.”

You silently blinked at him for a moment, and for that moment Aaron forgot how to breathe. He only obtained the ability to breathe again for a second, before you took it away by opening your mouth and licking the pad of his finger.

The sight and the feeling of your tongue on him made his dick twitch.

You sucked on it slowly, your eyes never leaving his. It wasn’t hard for him to imagine your mouth was on a different part of his body, as you swirled your tongue around his fingertip.

Who would have thought?

He removed his finger from your mouth and while it was still wet from your saliva, he grabbed your face and dragged you close to him.

“What kind of behavior is this? And in front of your boss? I thought you were a good girl,” he said, his nose touching yours.

“I am.”

He could argue, but he’d rather kiss you instead. So he did.

Your little sighs in the middle of the kiss were already driving him insane - he couldn’t even imagine how you’d sound when his hand would find its way between your thighs.

Soon you were on his lap, straddling him, and he pulled away to take your top off. You were eager for another kiss, but he had to take a moment to admire the way your breasts looked covered in that beautiful black lace.

He pulled the left side of your bra down just enough to release your nipple. He played with it with his fingers, making it hard and once it was ready he replaced his hand with his mouth.

The pretty moans that were coming out of your mouth made him even more eager, so he grabbed you by the hips and pushed you down to grind on his cock even harder. You were the most angelic thing he had ever seen, but all he wanted to do was destroy you.

Before he had the chance to think of his next move, you got off his lap with a grin and took of your shoes and jeans.

“Lie down,” you said.

“Who am I to say no to you?”

You crawled on the bed, but didn’t come up to him like he expected. Instead you kneeled between his legs and started unbuckling his belt.

He was painfully hard already and he was counting down the minutes he would finally be in your hands.

Your smirk when you saw his released cock went straight to his ego. And he couldn’t wait to see you full of it.

The way you positioned yourself in all fours, and licked his length while making eye contact with him, looked like it came out of a porno movie.

Your ass looked delicious; the fabric of your panties almost non-existent making him wish he could reach it and give you a few spanks.

“Fuck…”

It was sloppy; one moment you were licking his dick from bottom to top, and the other your hand was wrapped around it while your tongue was swirling around the tip. And it was perfect.

“Fuck, it’s so good. You’re so good at it, baby, you’re so good,” he said, his hand pushing the back of your head so you could suck him deeper.

You cupped his balls and smirked at the way he moaned. You were enjoying it, maybe as much as he was.

“You like it, baby?”

You nodded, and closed your eyes moving your tongue in a torturous pace.

“You know what I like?”

At his question your eyes opened again, and you shook your head.

Aaron signaled you to go up to him for a moment, and grabbed your chin with two of his fingers to maintain the eye contact.

“I like that you’re all shy,” he said and paused to give you a kiss. “Quiet.” Another kiss. “Innocent, in front of others. But with me…you show me what a little slut you are. Just for me.”

Your smile would be the end of him.

“Just for you,” you repeated his words and kissed him before moving between his legs again.

“Spit on it,” he said. “Make it messy, baby, I wanna see you drool.”

You did as he said. He didn’t know where to focus, at your ass, the way your tits were hanging, or your mouth that was doing devilishly things to him.

Finally, he wasn’t looking at anything at all, with his eyes closed, cumming right into your mouth.

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #hotch #ask #hotch 🪐#🎃 anon #nsfw.

586 notes · View notes

writers-potion · 1 month ago

Note

Hi! This is super specific but how would I introduce my main character with amnesia? It's so hard to write bc I want my book to be from her pov, but she can only get her name from outside sources. And the book starts off kinda traumatic

Writing a POV Character with Memory Problems

If your character is experiencing amnesia due to a traumatic event/accident, you can allude to it as "that day", "accident" or "event" early on and let your readers pick up on the pieces of memory that may come back to her or derive what happened from snippets of information provided by other characters.

Her are some ways you could introduce the main character in the opening scene:

Show her frustration at not being able to remember: When I woke up from a hospital bed, I didn't remember. What I was supposed to remember, I couldn't remember.

Let someone else call her name: "Susan!" A shrill voice said. Susan? Who's that, I wondered.

It can be a little retrospective: According to the stout woman crying next to my hospital bed, my name was Susan and she was my mother of twenty-one years.

Or, she can be in denial and lash out to those around her: "Look, just leave me alone! I want to go home!" "You are home!" someone screamed in the background. I swerved around to him, but I didn't know who he was.

If your main character has somewhat accepted the situation and is trying to get better, you can show how she develops new habits due to her amnesia, like taking excessive notes or trying to get her loved ones to tell her what happened because they can't talk about it in front of her.

You can choose to start off with a traumatic snippet of memory and show her thoughts slowly slipping into confusion as she realizes that she cannot remember much about herself: The dark, black shadow towered over me, choking and screaming. I vaguely sensed he was calling a name, my name, but panic seized me in a tight fist that I couldn't recall my own name. God, what was it? Who was I? Just as the man drove a knife into my left breast, my eyes snapped open to a clean, white ceiling.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

💎If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! Also, join my Tumblr writing community for some more fun.

💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2

#writers and poets #writers on tumblr #writing #writeblr #creative writing #poets and writers #helping writers #let's write #creative writers #resources for writers #write #writers #writer stuff #writerscommunity #writing inspiration #writerblr #writing advice #writing about writing #writing blog

138 notes · View notes

strayy-starss · 5 months ago

Note

Hii! Could you do some Elliott Headcanons? If not, don't be to shy w the Alex smut🤭

✧A/N: Yes of course!! Elliot is definitely my second favorite bachelor, so this is absolutely perfect!! And don’t you worry, Alex smut will be coming in the future 😏. Also, I wasn’t sure if you wanted NSFW or SFW, so I just did them both! Hope you don’t mind :)

✧Warnings: eventual mentions of sex and kinks

☆SFW & NSFW Headcanons for Elliot☆

✧ SFW:

Elliot definitely reads a lot of books (like, a LOT). I feel like this is a given, seeing that he writes them and has a library when he moves in with the farmer. Let me tell you, though, if the farmer is also a reader, he will be ecstatic. And I mean, like, through the roof. He’d want to talk about them all the time and he’d likely recommend lots of books for you to read based on both your preference and his.

I think he’d also love to read books out loud to you, whether or not he wrote them or not. His voice is angelic though, so it’s not like the farmer is complaining.

Speaking of books, he’d definitely ask you for your opinion on plot lines or scenes for his stories, regardless of whether you’re a bookworm or not. Mostly I feel like he’d just seek validation that his writings are as good as the ones that he’s read, or just good in general.

I feel like sometimes, and I mean VERY rarely, Elliot will spiral into a place of despair when it comes to his writing. When that happens, he can go into writer’s block and will push you away to think of ideas. If this happens, depending on the severity, I think you may be able to pull him out of it with reassuring words and cuddles. If he’s in too deep, however, it’s best to give him space until he makes it to a better place, where he either figures something out, or decides it isn’t worth the trouble. He’d definitely apologize to you after the fact and make it up to them with lots of TLC.

Elliot doesn’t use the words “pretty” or “handsome”. No, he uses words like “gorgeous” “stunning” “glorious” and “ravishing”. I’m sorry, but this man is way too sophisticated to use simple words. Make that shit fancy and pair it with a silky voice and you get Elliot.

Elliot’s a wine kinda guy. He’d definitely have those nights where he feels compelled to make a charcuterie board with all those cheeses and grapes and have some red wine with you.

Now, I know you’re all thinking it, and I'm thinking it too: Elliot with a ponytail. I bet you he loves his hair, but it does get annoying sometimes when it falls in his face when he’s trying to write or help out around the farm, so he definitely keeps a hair tie on his wrist in case he needs it. He’ll always offer it to you, too, if he thinks you need it.

He’s an early riser, too. He’ll be up before you and he’ll be sitting and reading a book with a cup of coffee and he’ll greet you like, “Good morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?”

And like the gentleman he is, he probably does a lot of extra and unnecessary, but thoughtful, things for you. Like, if you’ve had a long day, he’d sit you down and take your shoes off for you, even though you insist that you can do that yourself. Then he’d take off your jacket if you were wearing one, and make you a nice cup of tea so that you can wind down with him.

✧NSFW BELOW THE CUT✧ ⬇

✧ NSFW:

I firmly believe that Elliot’s a switch. He’s always willing to take initiative, but we all know that Elliot is a pretty princess at heart and sometimes just wants all the attention.

God help me this man knows how to talk dirty. He’s read enough books that he knows exactly what to say to you in every circumstance, and exactly how to turn you on or get you in the mood. And then the next day he’ll act all innocent like he wasn’t just whispering how much he was gonna ruin you last night. He’s the type of guy to say, “I don’t want you to be pleasured. I want you to be trembling.” (Jesus FUCK I’m down bad for him.)

I feel like Elliot would set up a safe word with you, but he’d want it to be something symbolic or fancy or something. Like instead of “baseball” it would be “nightingale” and you'd have to spit that word out when you want him to stop. Speaking of, as soon as you do say the safe word, he’ll stop everything and just gently hold you, whispering that he’s sorry and that he hopes you can forgive him, even though you really aren’t that mad at him at all, just a little shaken.

As far as kinks go, I think Elliot is open to almost all kinks with a few restrictions on things that he just isn’t into. I feel like he’d especially be into bondage and blindfolding. It’s more of a spiritual thing for him, as it opens you up fully to him, like you can’t hide anything from him anymore and you completely trust him with your body. If you aren’t into that, then he’ll be a little disappointed, but would get over it quickly as long as you promise to let it happen on his birthday.

Elliot absolutely loves to be tied up, though, for the same symbolic reasons. He trusts you with his whole being, and knows that you only want to make him feel good.

He's a sucker for neck kisses, so give him a hickey or two. He wears that collared shirt for a reason, right?

He hates the idea of a gag. He loves to hear you crying out in pleasure. It fuels him and makes him feel happy that he could pleasure you so much. If you want it, though, he'd never deny his lover what they want, even if it means he can't hear you as well.

Elliot naturally isn’t rough when it comes to sex, but he most definitely can be. This man will be on his knees to do exactly what you want him to. He prefers it that way, actually. So long as you give him the guidelines of what you want him to do, he can take it from there. If you don’t, though, he’d probably be asking a lot of: “Is this okay?” Because like the gentleman he is, he would never want to overstep your boundaries, even though he probably knows everything that one can about sex.

He’d definitely use writing as an excuse to see you naked. It would be something about him needing to know the anatomy of a person, regardless of your gender identification or sex. It would be funny if you were a man, too, because then he’d get all flustered when you’d ask why, as he’s a man himself. He’d make up something like how your body is shaped differently than his, and he needs a reference that isn’t himself.

Same thing about writing goes for sex. He might ask you to touch yourself or even him for a scene, and he’d take notes as he’d try to hold himself back from touching you. He’d jot down every little sound you make and every single word you say to “make the scene more real,” though it may or may not be for him to read and masturbate to later.

You later figure this out and tell him that he doesn't need an excuse to have sex with you, but he gets embarrassed and insists that it truly is for his writing, though he will be a little more open-minded about it in the future.

✧ That’s all, thank you for reading!! I also need to make a longer list for Alex. I feel like I didn't do my baby justice, seeing as I wrote much more for Elliot.

#stardew valley #stardew valley smut #sdv elliot x reader #sdv elliott #sdv elliot x farmer #sdv x reader #stardew valley headcanons

261 notes · View notes

scudslut · 11 months ago

Text

A New Years Surprise 🎀

daryl x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, poorly written smut, oral (fem-receiving), unprotected p in v, porn with some plot lol

a/n: i know i’m a little late but happy new years everyone!:) thought i’d start off on the right foot this year with some Daryl lovin<3 also don’t mind my writing i’m just getting back into it so i’m a bit rusty:/

“God, you’re such a dumbass,” you muttered to yourself, cringing at the reflection staring back at you.

Currently, you were a mess.

Tonight was Alexandria’s supposed ‘New Years Eve’ celebration, like we actually had anything to celebrate or look forward to.

There were always those few people you’d come across over the years, that had somehow managed to keep track of the time passed and as it turns out, Alexandria’s people were very serious when it came to sticking to the old worlds holidays and traditions.

Hell, they’d host parties and backyard shindigs on a regular bases, no prompt needed.

It was bizarre, and even after a full year living here, you still weren’t used to it.

Deep down, a small sliver of you agreed that it was something special about this place. That it somehow kept the hopeful humanity glimmering inside the residents. But the larger, much more sceptical side of you, couldn’t help but notice the flaws of the idea and the dangers of false hope.

Or maybe it was just because you looked fucking ridiculous trying to play dress up.

Either way, you hated the celebrations.

This one in particular though, caught you off guard.

You hadn’t payed much attention to New Years before the world ended, and just assumed that would be the same now; but when you caught wind of the party, you felt your stomach bubble in excitement.

And for one reason only.

Daryl.

You knew Daryl was an absolute sucker for dainty dresses and lingerie and you hadn’t ever gotten the chance to wear something like that for him. But a few days prior, you had stumbled across a small shopping mall on run and found this adorable matching light pink set and had to stuff it away in case the opportunity to surprise him presented itself.

Well, here it was.

And man was that excitement rapidly turning into a full blown panic attack.

Running your fingers through your hair haphazardly, you studied your appearance in the mirror.

You’d only so far put on the lingerie and a small black skirt and you already felt confined and self conscious. The straps weren’t sitting right, the cups of your bra were too big, causing weird awkward gaps.

Sighing, you close your eyes in defeat, resting your head in your hands.

This was just awful.

You could already hear the beginnings of the party going, music and laughter flowing in through your slightly cracked window and it only caused you to sink further into yourself.

You felt your mind slip into your self deprecating thoughts as you began to tune out the world around you, missing the soft creaks of footsteps on the wooden floored hallway.

The door of your shared room was wide open, as it was only the two of you that occupied the small house.

Daryl took you in for a moment, leaning against the doorframe observing your defeated aura silently.

He immediately knew what was bothering you, he could read you like a book at this point. He crept up behind you, gently touching your shoulder as to not frighten you from your thoughts.

Jumping slightly, your eyes flew open and landed on those deep familiar blue ones you adored, staring back at you through the mirror.

His natural scent caught your nose and your body subconsciously began to ease, slumping back into his chest.

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting you home so early,” you whisper to him as you notice his eyes drift down your body.

You wrap your arms around yourself, not wanting him to see your failed attempt at a surprise and be disappointed.

You should have known he’d be quicker than you.

“Not so fast, baby,” he says, catching your arms before they can fully shield your torso from him and twisted you around to face him.

“It’s nothing, really Daryl, I-I don’t even know what I was thinking,” you mumble feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

That’s when you notice the dark, lustful glimmer in his eyes and awed expression clear as day on his features.

Oh. He likes it.

Heat pooled in your stomach.

Daryl bunches the fabric of your dainty skirt in his hand contemplatively, drawing it up ever so slowly and tucking it into the waist band to keep you exposed.

You could feel his eyes wander your skin, like soft breathy kisses, from finger tips to the dip of your collar bones.

Your breathe catches as you feel the faintest pressure on your dripping cunt.

“This all fer me?” He whispers, slowly sliding his middle finger from the wet patch on your panties to the tiny pink bow at the hem.

He finger dips into the waist when he doesn’t hear your response, and snaps it back against your skin.

“Y-yes Dar,” you gasp.

Of course it was for him, you were his and he damn well knew that, but he simply couldn’t help himself from asking time to time.

He continued to toy with the bow thoughtfully, letting his finger tips graze over the sensitive skin there. Over your hip bones, stomach, and down to your inner thighs, never allowing too much pressure so it felt like soft tickles.

He enjoyed to watch you pant and writhe. Liked the way your skin would erupt in goosebumps every place he touched.

He was a hunter after all.

He could spend hours playing with every detail of you, work you up until you have tears welling in your eyes and your cunt was practically pulsing.

Though you’d beg and plead for him to stop, to give you what you need, he knew you loved it.

And so did he.

Daryl Dixon was a tease.

“Wanted to surprise you after the party,” you manage to squeak out and his gaze finally meets yours.

“Did ya now?” he mocks, walking you backwards till the back of your knees hit the bed and you take a seat at the edge. He looms over you, thumb grazing your bottom lip and you simply nod back at him.

“Well, ya can be certain there ain’t gonna be no party anymore,” he growls, staring you down like you had offended him somehow.

He harshly grips your hips, pulling them till your ass was practically hanging off the edge and drops down to his knees before you, spreading your legs to make room for himself.

All you can do is watch him, mouth parted open as he manhandles you however he pleases.

“And where did ya find somethin’ so pretty, hm?” he questions gruffly, once again rubbing his thumb over the wet patch forming on your panties.

You lean back on your arms, dropping your chin to watch his movements.

“I-uh, on a run the other day,” you huff, your words stuttering in excitement and anticipation.

Daryl only hums in response, as he dips his fingers and pulls them to the side, exposing you fully to him.

He barely gives you a second to register his actions before he’s dropping his head between your thighs, licking a long strip across your soaked cunt.

Your body jolts in surprised pleasure, your right hand flying to grip his soft brown locks as he laps at your clit.

Moaning loudly, your hips rock into him as he continues to lick and suck, lost in the taste of you.

“Oh god,” you whimper. Your arms are shaking behind you, ready to give out any second as you watch Daryl devour you like you were his last meal on earth.

He always looked so damn pretty, eyes closed and entrapped between your thighs.

He lifts his head, groaning at the sight of you and begins trailing kisses over your hips and down your inner thighs.

“Sweet girl,” he mumbles between kisses, “always thinkin’ bout me, huh?”

Your eyes roll back as you sink to your elbows, overwhelmed by the pleasure.

“Asked you a question, baby,” he nips at your skin causing a soft sting.

“Always Dar,” you pant, rolling your hips into him again. Your body was pulsing with lust and Daryl could sense how needy you were for him, like it had been weeks without his touch and honestly, it felt like that for him too.

He was about ready to cum in his jeans at the sight of you alone. Legs spread for him, pupils blown wide while you panted and moaned noisily just for him to hear.

Trailing his lips back up, he grips your waist stilling your movements, “What do ya need from me, hm?”

Your mind blanks for a moment, surprised by his uncharacteristic generosity. He was never this quick to give you what you need, always wanting to drag your pleasure for miles and miles until each pretty sound you could possibly make filled his ears.

“Come on now, or do you want me to decide for ya?” he asks again and you quickly shake your head, grabbing him by the shoulders and scooting back until you both were at the top of the bed.

As he lands above you, arms on each side of your head, you finally feel him and how hard he already was.

Rocking into him suggestively, “You know what I need,” you whisper.

Daryl groans from the friction, dropping his head to your shoulder and rutting into you further, chasing your movements.

You hadn’t seen him this worked up and responsive in a long time, and god were you loving it.

You pull his head up to face you and crash your lips onto his, hands finding his belt trying to discard him of it as fast as you possibly can. Daryl’s a panting mess above you, “Baby are you tryna kill me?” he groans when he feels your hands brush against his cock as you attempt to rid him of his jeans.

All you can do is whimper into his mouth as you struggle, and he kicks them down and off the bed.

He grabs you hands and pulls them above you, pinning them down as he begins to attack your neck with bites and kisses.

“Please Dar,” you whine, “need you now.”

“I know baby, I know,” he coos, attempting to soothe you as he draws your skirt and panties down your legs.

You begin tearing at his vest, needing to feel him closer to you, as close as he could possibly get. You feel him chuckle against you, “So eager for me, are ya?” as he lines himself up with your aching core, teasing you even more.

Taking him by surprise, you crush his hips into yours, filling yourself to the hilt all at once. You gasp from from the mixture of pain and pleasure, as Daryl all but whines into your mouth.

“Oh shit, fuck me,” he groans as he begins to slam into you at a bruising pace. You claw at his shoulders, rocking your hips to match his fast movements.

“Just love this cock, don’t ya?” he grunts, lifting one of your legs around his waist to drive into you even deeper.

You felt your brain cloud over, unable to think about anything other than him, drunker on his cock than you’d been from any night of drinking you’d partaken to in the past.

“Don’t go dumb on me now, darling. What did I ask ya?” he repeats, slowing his hips to sensual rolls, so it only stroked that cord in your stomach but kept it from building any further.

“God yes,” you moan, matching his slow but absolutely delicious pace.

Daryl is a groaning mess in your ears as your bodies dance a synchronized rhythm together, moulding into each other like pieces of a puzzle.

His hand snakes between you two, finding your clit easily and he begins to stroke you gently, allowing the fire in your abdomen to build rapidly.

“Oh Dar,” you moan and Daryl only picks up the pace, chasing after his own high to experience with you. Your clutching to him for dear life as he pounds into you quickly, grunting and groaning quiet praises about how good you feel.

You can tell he’s close when his hips start to stutter and shake, losing his rhythm slightly and you finally feel the cord break.

Your body floods with ecstasy, cunt pulsing around him causing his high to come crashing over him with you. Waves of pleasure wash over you as you both come down, his hips slowing to a stop.

He rests his forehead down to yours while the both of you struggle to catch your breath. You feel Daryl start to chuckle against you and your eyes lazily drift open, “What?” you mumble, running your fingers slowly down his back.

“Never was a big fan of surprises before, but ya can bet your ass I am now.”

#daryl dixon #daryl imagines #norman reedus #norman reedus smut #the walking dead #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon smut #twd smut #twd drabbles #daryl x reader

578 notes · View notes